Author Interview – Lynda J. Cox

February 16, 2018

As seen in the February issue of Uncaged Book Reviews.

Uncaged: I really enjoyed West of Forgotten. Can you tell readers more about your books?

Thank you. I’m glad you enjoyed it. It was a difficult book to write because of the issues that I dealt with, so to have people say they enjoyed it made the journey to help Harrison and Rachel find their happily ever after worth it. All of my so far published books are western historical romance, and all are set in the fictional town of Federal, Wyoming Territory. (At one time, Federal did exist—but now it’s not even a wide spot on a spur of the Burlington/Northern Railroad line.) All of my books also deal with second chances and redemption.

Uncaged: You are part of Writers on the River, Penned Con and Wild Deadwood Reads. Have you participated in the past? What are you looking forward to most at the events?

I’ve participated in all three of these conferences previously. These are the three that I decided to attend this year for a few reasons—first and foremost are the charities that the author tables and reader tickets support and all are charities that are near and dear to my heart. Writers on the River supports Thistle Farms and Healing with Words—both charities that assist battered women to escape the cycle of violence and make a new start. Penned Con supports additional social services for children on the autism spectrum and their families. And, this year, Wild Deadwood Reads is adding support for wild horses, the very living symbol of the American West. What I look forward to the most at these conferences is the interaction between reader and authors. Selling books at these conferences is nice, but it’s not the main goal. I want to talk to the people who buy my books, find out what they like to read. I’m always amazed at the great books suggested to me by readers and I usually go home from a conference with more books bought than I ever sell.

Uncaged: You write historical western romances, how much research do you do for each book?

One of the blessings of setting all my books in the same local is I don’t have to do a lot of research for subsequent books. However, as with any book, there is research to be done. Most of the research for the first one was done over a period of twenty years…with every vacation hubby and I took to Wyoming. I usually try to figure out what I need to research before I start writing because if I don’t have a fact right, I will hear about it. And, if I need to research while writing, I’m terrified of that great rabbit hole called “internet research.” A body can get lost for days down there. That being said, I’m always looking for interesting facts and tidbits of information that help to bring authenticity to the novel.

Uncaged: Can you tell us what you have coming up next?

I’m actually working on a sequel to my second book. A reader pointed out as vile as the villain was in that book, just being in jail wouldn’t keep him down. And, that comment started the wheels turning.

Uncaged: What is one of the nicest things someone has said to you about your books?

As someone who was three credit hours short of a third undergrad major in American history, to be told how historically accurate my books are is one of the nicest things I’ve been told. But, the nicest thing I’ve been told is when a reader says she’s fallen in love with the hero in one of my books.

Uncaged: What is your favorite part about being an author? What have you found to be the least favorite?

My favorite part of being an author is I get to have imaginary friends and I can share my make-believe friends with the real world. The least favorite part is when my family forgets that this writing gig is a job.

Uncaged: What do you like to do when you aren’t writing?

When I’m not writing, I’m usually on my way to or home from a dog show. I’ve shown collies for more than thirty five years now. If you’ve ever seen the movie Best in Show, yes, I know people JUST like that. It’s a crazy hobby.

Uncaged: What is the hardest part of a book to write? What is the easiest? From start to finish, how long does it take to finish a complete book?

For me, the hardest part to write is “THAT” scene. That sex scene has to move the plot forward, I refuse to allow it to be gratuitous, and I often struggle to keep it from reading like I’m giving stage direction in a low budget porn film. I can hear the gasps now about referring to a sex scene as “porn” but I’m not really calling it that. It’s what I really want to avoid. The easiest part for me is writing the opening scene and the closing scene. I want to grab the reader by the collar and pull them immediately into the action. How long it takes to write a book depends on the book, but on average, it takes me almost six to eight months to write a complete novel. I sweat every word.

Uncaged: What would you like to say to fans, and where can they follow you?

I promise a happy ending, no matter how many twists and turns it takes to get there. It’s just not romance without a happy ever after—or at least a happy for now ending. If anyone wants to follow me, I’m on Twitter at @LyndaCox; on Facebook at https://www.facebook.com/lyndajcox; I’m on Amazon at https://www.amazon.com/Lynda-J.-Cox/e/B009LW3JZ6; and my web site is www.lyndajcox.com

[symple_box color=”black” fade_in=”false” float=”center” text_align=”left” width=””]I was born and raised on Chicago’s south side, into a family of staunch White Sox fans and Democratic Party bosses…and much to their consternation, I’m not a White Sox fan and I refuse to discuss politics. (Some things are much better left unsaid.) To think that I would finally see my beloved Cubbies win the World Series was too much to hope for, but they finally did it in my lifetime. If anyone asks, I bleed Cubbie blue. I also grew up with a steady diet of syndicated Western television shows, John Wayne movies, and the Sunday night staple of Lassie. I blame those television shows and movies for my lifelong love of the American West and Collies. Only after researching the breed did I learn two very important things about Collies. One is that Lassie is really not a beautiful collie (as far as confirmation goes) but he (yes, HE) has been the best PR my breed could ever ask for. And secondly, Lassie lied…Collies are not that smart. By the time I was legally an adult (I refuse to grow up), I couldn’t wait to get out of Dodge, so to speak. I moved first to the wilds of central Wisconsin and then to south central Indiana to the middle of a corn field, where I currently reside with my best friend, biggest supporter, and husband, Ken. We have a beautiful piece of property in the woods of central Tennessee I escape to every chance I get. Now, to just convince hubby it’s time to put away the veterinary practice and become a backwoodsman in Tennessee. Does he really think I was learning all those survival skills because I’m expecting an apocalypse of biblical proportions? (Don’t answer that, Dear Heart!) I wrote my first published novel while working on the critical introduction of my creative project for my master’s degree. It wasn’t the most perfect timing but my Muse isn’t the most cooperative, either. She dropped Colt and Amelia into my head and insisted I write their story. So, I tried to reason with Her. Yeah…that wasn’t going to work either. In between writing pages of that critical intro, I kept a second document open and wrote their story. I have to say that The Devil’s Own Desperado was inspired by my husband. He was complaining shortly before I started writing that novel about not being able to retire because his clients wouldn’t let him. If I remember rightly, he said, “They won’t let me hang up the hardware.” All of my published novels are western historical romance. I love this period of our nation’s history. The national psyche was recovering and healing in the aftermath of the American Civil War and the westward expansion helped to heal that psyche. The research I’ve had to do with each novel makes the history geek in my totally giddy. Those weren’t survival skills I was learning. I was researching how my characters would have lived. The Devil’s Own Desperado won The Laramie Award for best debut novel, and the next three novels (Smolder on a Slow Burn, Seize the Flame, and West of Forgotten) have all received 4 stars or better from InD’Tale Magazine, and two were RONE nominated. When I’m not writing, I show those Collies I first fell in love with as a child. I’ve bred more than thirty champions and am currently campaigning my smooth boy, Vander (known to his closest friends as “Lavender Larry Princess Paws”). For the past five years, he has been ranked in the top ten. The greatest thrill of my life showing this boy was to win Best of Opposite Sex to Best of Variety at the National specialty show in 2017. I also make beaded “bling” leads to sell to help support my dog show addiction/habit. Dog shows are the reason I don’t have too many vices–I can’t afford another habit.[/symple_box]

Uncaged Review – The Organ Donor, 15th Anniversary Edition by Matthew Warner

Cyrene Olson

February 15, 2018

The Organ Donor, 15th Anniversary Edition
Matthew Warner
Horror

They knew it was wrong to purchase a kidney off the Chinese black market. But what the Taylor brothers didn’t realize was that its unwilling donor was an executed prisoner—and an immortal being from Chinese mythology. Pursuing them to Washington, DC, this ancient king will stop at nothing to recover what was once his.

This special 15th anniversary edition of Matthew Warner’s acclaimed first horror novel includes nearly 7,000 words of new material, including the author’s riveting account of his true-life encounter with China’s illegal organ trade.

Uncaged Review: A tale of two brothers, one who needs a organ donor. After a trip to China finds the brothers getting the organs they need. They find themselves in the middle of a battle with someone very old and powerful. I found this story very interesting and would encourage others to give it a read. Reviewed by Jennifer

4 Stars

Uncaged Review – West of Forgotten by Lynda J. Cox with Excerpt

Cyrene Olson

February 14, 2018

West of Forgotten
Lynda J. Cox
Historical Western Romance

Banished from civilization to the Wyoming Territory, U.S. Marshal Harrison Taylor holds a deed to half the Lazy L. He isn’t sure why his beautiful new partner, Rachel Leonard, doesn’t trust him. He has to convince her he is nothing like the man who abused her and he must earn her trust before the escalating attacks at the Lazy L turn deadly.
For six years, Rachel has worked to repair a shattered life. Caring for her son and invalid father leaves little time to keep the Lazy L profitable. She doesn’t want a business partner simply because her father gambled away half of her beloved ranch, and most certainly doesn’t desire a husband. Unfortunately, she’s stuck with the former and can’t trust Harrison as the latter.
But unless she can learn to trust him, everything and everyone Rachel loves will be lost.

Excerpt

Chapter One

Between the towns of Forgotten and Federal, Wyoming Territory Late August, 1875

“Son of a—” Harrison Taylor bit off the curse as he struggled to bring his rearing horse under control. He pulled the black’s head down to his right and shifted his weight forward to avoid being pitched from the saddle. When the horse dropped to all four hooves, he reined the snorting, startled animal in a tight circle. “I realize you haven’t been shot at in ten years, Demon, but I’d think you’d remember not to throw me.”
He ran a calming hand down the horse’s sweat-soaked neck and used the moment to steal a glance in the direction that the shot had originated. It had been a shotgun, if the buzzing like so many angry hornets as the projectiles flew overhead was any indication. The question remained if the scatter-gun was a single shot. The figure in the shadows of the heavily shaded porch shifted and the late afternoon sunlight glinted on the muzzle.
“There’s nothing here for you, mister.”
Even though the voice in the shadows sounded young, there was no waver in the words. The levelness in the simple statement answered the question of whether the shotgun was a single shot. He nudged his hat back a little, unshrouding his face. “I just need water for my horse and me. I’m not looking for trouble.”
The muzzle of the long gun emerged from the depths of the porch, gesturing toward the water trough he’d glimpsed in his attempt to calm the horse.
“Get a drink then move along. If you reach into those saddle bags when you dismount, I’ll cut you in half.” To emphasize the point, the sharp click of a hammer cocked back traveled across the hot land.
Smart kid. Even though he wasn’t wearing his sidearm, the boy correctly guessed he had a weapon in the saddlebags. Harrison crossed his arm over his midsection and deliberately leaned his elbow onto the pommel. “I was told in town there might be work to be had here.”
“You were told wrong.” There was still a dead level cadence to the words. “You’ve got ten seconds to decide if you want a drink for you and your horse or if you’re just going to keep riding.”
He didn’t need the ten seconds. Harrison tugged one rein, directing the large black to the water trough. He dismounted and worked the pump. Fresh, cold water filled the nearly empty tank. While his horse drank, he picked up the cup tied to the pump and worked the handle again. When he and his mount had quenched their thirst, he backed the animal from the trough. As he grabbed a hank of mane and put his foot into the stirrup, the kid on the porch asked, “Who told you in town there was work here?”
It wasn’t so much curiosity he heard in the boy’s voice, but anger. Aware of the shotgun still aimed at his midsection, Harrison stepped down and kept a firm grip on Demon’s reins. “I stretched the truth just a bit.” He nodded toward the remains of a garden near the house. “I figured from the looks of things when I rode up there was work to be had. Kinda hard to keep a garden growing when the fence is down and it looks like cows have been trampling it.”
He took a step closer to the house and halted when the muzzle of the gun glinted again in the afternoon sunlight as it was pulled into a shooting position. He paused, weighing his options. “Look, kid—”
The kid stepped out of the shadows. Auburn hair was pulled up into a loose chignon, though several tendrils had escaped to frame a slender face. Harrison took in the faded chambray shirt, denim trousers patched repeatedly at the knees, and scuffed boots, all covering what was a decidedly feminine shape. Though the clothes were overly large and hung on her with as much form as a potato sack, there was no doubt it was a woman holding him at bay. He felt his jaw drop. “You’re not a boy.”
“I never said I was.” She gestured with the shotgun. “Mount up, mister, and leave.”
Harrison looked over his shoulder at the south-western horizon. Towering thunderheads rolled forward, churning over one another, growing darker with each passing minute. “Ma’am, if that sky is any indication, it’s going to be a long, wet night. I’ll admit I wasn’t honest with you about being told in town there was work here. If you’ll let me stay the night in your barn, at first light I’ll get that garden fence repaired.” He pulled his hat off, completely unshrouding his features. “I was honest when I said I’m not looking for trouble.”
“And what guarantee do I have that you’ll be here at first light? Or that you won’t try to rob us blind in the middle of the night?” She pointed the shotgun directly into his stomach, even as she descended the steps of the porch and closed the distance between them. “Or attempt to murder all of us in our sleep?”
Us? He would have bet she was the only one there. Her blunt questions raked over him even though he had given her cause to challenge his honesty. “Ma’am, if I give you my word, I aim to keep it.” He didn’t like being on the receiving end of any weapon but he pulled his gaze from the shotgun and scanned the ranch house, noting the faded whitewash, the boarded-up window on the second floor, the sagging step on the porch. He lowered his line of sight to her face and offered what he hoped was a friendly smile. “And, no offense meant, but it doesn’t look like you have anything worth stealing. As to the other…I’m no killer. I’m not about to start now.”
Her jaw clenched as she met his gaze. He’d never seen eyes quite like hers; almost a quicksilver grey with an undertone of deep blue. “Why should I believe you?”
“You’ve got every reason to keep that shotgun pointed at me and make me keep riding. All I can do is give you my word as a gentleman and hope you believe it.”
Her unnerving stare never left him but her features softened while she appeared to weigh his words. He could rationalize her misgivings. She was a woman, alone on this wide open plain. Even dressed as a boy, there was no doubting she was a woman—and a rather becoming one at that. There wasn’t a man on the place if the state of disrepair to the house was any indication. A lack of male protection made her vulnerable. He was a total stranger and she’d be a fool to so lightly offer trust…He knew the moment she reached her decision as the quicksilver of her eyes darkened into a deeper blue-grey.
She lowered the shotgun in degrees and eased the hammer home. Harrison allowed himself a slow exhalation and relaxed his hold on the horse’s reins.
“I’ve got three dairy cows. They go into the barn at night. You’re more than welcome to bed your horse down in one of the other stalls and you can throw your bedroll out in an open stall or the tack room.” Her gaze lifted to the horizon he had mentioned earlier. “I don’t have a lot of grain, but I can spare a scoop of oats for your horse.”
“Ma’am?” He wasn’t sure what he was hearing, other than he wasn’t going to be trying to find shelter in the middle of a thunderstorm.
“I was not raised to turn away those in need. You need a place out of the weather for the night.” Resignation clung to the words before her voice firmed. “You may as well put your horse in the small corral next to the barn until that storm gets here. I would appreciate it if you clean his stall before you leave in the morning.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Harrison plopped his hat onto his head. He tugged on Demon’s reins, then paused and asked, “What’s the name of this place?”
Demon nudged the middle of his back, staggering him a step forward and closer to the woman.
“The town or the ranch?”
“Both, actually.” He pushed the horse’s head away from his shoulder, circumventing another hard nudge from the black. “I’m not sure where I am.”
“It depends on which direction you rode in from. We’re west of Forgotten and almost to Federal.” The slightest hint of a smile tugged at a corner of her mouth and some of the tension faded from her features. He wondered if that was meant to be a joke. She paused, brushing a wayward tendril of hair from her face. “The name of the ranch is the Lazy L.”
The last time he’d been this surprised Harrison was playing poker and saw a fifth ace dealt. “If this is the Lazy L, I need to see Sam Leonard. My name’s Taylor. Harrison Taylor.”
Her expression shuttered more quickly than he could have believed. Her pinched features tightened again and she drew back, sucking in a quick breath. “Why do you need to see him?”
Harrison didn’t miss the small break in her voice, or the rapid manner the color leeched from her face. “I’m hoping that Sam can straighten something out for me. About six or seven years ago, I oversaw purchasing beef for the Army troops in the Western Theater and I met Sam at Fort Scott, Kansas.”
Her posture stiffened and her chin jutted out at him. Those disconcerting eyes narrowed. “The Lazy L sold a lot of cattle to the Army then, Mr. Taylor.”
He was startled by the vehemence with which she spat his name at him. “It’s not about the beef. Sam and I were in the same poker game and he lost to me. He lost a lot.”
She slowly shook her head. Harrison wondered what she was trying to negate.
“Sam couldn’t cover his bet. He said he had the deed to a ranch. I’ve got what he wrote out for me in my saddle bag.” Without waiting for her permission, he reached into the saddle bag. The muzzle of the shotgun lifting caught in the corner of his eye. He deliberately avoided the revolver resting in its holster in the depths of the leather pouch and pulled out a packet of often folded papers. He pulled one from the small group—the handwritten deed giving him one acre less than half of the total deeded ranch—and unfolded it. He glanced at the page. “I can read it for you if—”
“I can read.” The sharp words were accompanied by her small hand thrusting out to take the paper from him.
Realizing his mistake, he let her take the creased page from him. He hadn’t expected a woman on this frontier to be educated enough to read and certainly hadn’t expected one dressed in denims to have that ability.
Her head dipped as she scanned the handwriting. The page crumpled with the tightening of her fingers.
“How could he do this?” Anger edged her thin whisper. She looked again at the paper. Her voice thickened and increased in volume with her distress. “He can’t—This can’t possibly be legal.”
This young woman dressed in the most unladylike manner had to be Sam Leonard’s daughter, the paragon Sam’s bragging about had become almost tedious during their poker game. Harrison lifted his gaze to the house as he found he was unable to look at the woman in front of him, a woman who seemed to have the weight of the whole world on her slender shoulders. He couldn’t shake the sensation he had just added to that heavy burden. “Ma’am, he was almost five thousand dollars into me when he wrote that to cover his last bet.”
“I’m sure he was.” Her hand closed around the paper, nearly wadding it into a ball before she thrust it in his direction. “He never did know when to walk away. Sam’s in the house. I’ll take you in to him, though I’m not sure what it will accomplish.”
She rounded on her heel, leaving Harrison no choice but to follow. He couldn’t stop the admiration coursing through him when he saw the butt of what appeared to be a heavy caliber revolver tucked into the waistband of her denims in the small of her back. The lady was well armed. Even though she had agreed to shelter him for the night in her barn and had lowered the shotgun, she still had a way to defend herself.
He released Demon’s drop rein and jogged a few steps to catch up, shoving the paper into his trouser pocket. Just inside she paused only long enough to prop the shotgun near the door and settle the revolver on the counter. She then continued a determined march through the house.
Harrison raised a brow. He hadn’t seen a Colt Dragoon in better than ten years. He noted the covered Dutch oven on the massive Hoosier stove in a corner of the kitchen and the scent of baking bread mingled with the mouth-watering aroma of what he guessed to be chicken stew. His rumbling stomach reminded him it had been several days since he’d had a decent meal. He looked at the floor, hoping she hadn’t heard his growling stomach. The pine planking was scored in places. He guessed the gouging happened when any hands the ranch employed failed to remove their spurs before entering. His weren’t going to add any more damage to the flooring as there was no rowel on the short shank, blunted ends.
Her footfalls faded when she left the kitchen and stepped onto a thick carpet runner in an Oriental pattern. He lengthened his stride to catch up to her again. This house wasn’t the usual sod house he’d seen on the prairies. Unlike those soddies, this house hadn’t grown up overnight. Despite the fact it needed maintenance and upkeep, this was a building that had been constructed to silently but firmly convey a message of wealth and authority.
He didn’t know a lot about rugs or wall coverings or even construction. He’d never bothered to learn. Those aspects of a home had always been covered by his family’s money, but even he could tell this wasn’t the place of a dirt-poor homesteader. The ceiling in the kitchen was covered with patterned copper squares, though they needed burnishing as indicated by the green patina of the metal. The board running the length of the hallway above the dark wood wainscoting had been joined so it appeared seamless and had been carved with an intricate, twisting ivy pattern. Flocking embossed the wallpaper of the hallway. It was easy to see where someone—he guessed this young woman as her fingertips brushed along the wall while she led the way—had trailed a hand for years, leaving a shining path in the muted sunlight where the flocking had worn off the wallpaper.
The hallway ended in a large foyer. A set of double doors adorned with rippling leaded glass was to his right. To his left a flight of stairs made their way to a second floor. The young woman paused in front of a set of closed pocket doors. Next to those was an opened room—a less formal parlor, if the natural light and airiness of the room was any indication. A petticoat table with its mirror at floor level stood near the opened doors. Considering his guide’s proclivity for denim trousers, boots, and chambray shirts, he didn’t think that mirror was used often. He hadn’t seen a home with a ladies’ parlor since he left New Orleans more than two years earlier.
“You might not recognize my father. He was in an accident about six years ago and he’s never recovered.” She looked over her shoulder. An old pain defined the lines of her face, darkened her eyes, and layered her voice. “He hasn’t been the same since then. Apoplexy shortly afterward exacerbated the damage caused by the accident.”
His assumption that this was Sam’s daughter had been correct. “You must be Rachel.”
She nodded, once, and opened the doors to the closed parlor. Before he walked into the room, Rachel grabbed his shirt sleeve and stopped him. “Please don’t upset him. He’s very fragile.”
Fragile was not a word he would have ever thought to use in conjunction with the man he so vividly remembered after only a few bare hours engaged in what became a high-stakes poker game. His recollections of Sam Leonard were of a barrel-chested giant of a man, capable of putting away copious amounts of alcohol, who became louder and brasher as the evening wore on, and of a man overbearingly proud of his only child. The paragon of feminine virtues created through Sam’s bragging was far from the reality of the young woman impeding his entrance into the parlor.
Harrison made the offer after a single glance into the room. A wheeled chair bathed in the elongating rays of the late afternoon sun faced the southern exposed windows. What he could see of the individual slumped in the chair made him question if it was even the man he had known.
“It won’t be a long conversation, Mr. Taylor.” Rachel walked into the room and directly to the chair. “Daddy,” she said and knelt at her father’s side. “Someone is here to see you about the ranch.”
The gurgling sounds from the hunched figure somehow still managed to sound angry and one hand flailed the air near Rachel’s face. She stood and drew back.
Harrison crossed the room and stared down at the man imprisoned in the wicker wheelchair. The bull of a man he remembered was gone. Sam’s complexion was ashen, half his face drooping. Drool had trickled from a side of his mouth and dried to a thick, white line. His left arm hung uselessly in his lap. The other was still flailing. From mid-thigh down, Sam’s legs were missing. A heavy quilt covered his lap, while a wide swathe of what appeared to be linen wrapped around the man’s once barrel chest, under his arms, and was tied around the back of the chair, to keep him from tumbling onto the floor.
It was the pure, stark terror crossing the old man’s face though that tore through Harrison. The man thrashed his hand at Harrison, as if to push him away, and the incomprehensible sounds breaking from him were those of a frightened, wounded creature.
A long, low, distant rumble of thunder intruded into the room. Rachel stepped between Harrison and her father. “You might want to go put your horse up, Mr. Taylor. That storm is getting closer.”
“What happened to him?” He couldn’t take his gaze from the shell that stared up at him with undisguised fear.
“He was blasting a played-out silver mine shut and it collapsed on him. Please, go, now.” She gestured at the opened doors. “You’re upsetting him and Doc says anything that makes him upset could kill him.”
Harrison wasn’t sure if what was left of Sam was living and that death wouldn’t be kinder, and even as he thought that, he bit the words back. He stepped away, hesitating just long enough to see Rachel lift a white rag from a wash basin near her father and gently dab at his face. “It’s all right,” he heard her murmur. “I’m right here, Daddy.”

Uncaged Review

West of Forgotten is a nicely written western that tackles some very dark issues, including sexual abuse. The author blends these issues into the storyline with credibility and believability. Our heroine Rachel is strong and broken at the same time, and the reader believes it every step of the way. The hero in Harrison is exactly the type of man that every woman needs in her corner who needs to learn to trust both other people, and herself – and the author makes sure that it doesn’t overpower the story. It was satisfying to watch Rachel grow into the woman that she was meant to be, and love how she was meant to love.

My sole gripe is that I wished it were a bit longer, to see them realize their dreams for the ranch. Even though it ended well, and tied up its storyline, I am just a bit selfish and would have truly enjoyed an epilogue on this one.
Reviewed by Cyrene

5 Stars

Uncaged Review – New Release – The Wicked Ones by J.Z. Foster

Cyrene Olson

February 13, 2018

The Wicked Ones
J.Z. Foster
Horror/Paranormal
NEW RELEASE – Feb. 13, 2018

You know, the best thing about nightmares is that they’re not real. It’s all just in your head, and as soon as you wake up, pop!

It’s all gone. You’re safe.

It’s not like they could crawl out, creeping from your mind with long, slender fingers and milky yellow eyes sunken into heads with pointed horns bursting out.

That’d just be insane.

Daniel Tanner’s life is insane. A mysterious disease came to claim his son, seemingly pulling him into the grave with cold fingers named misery and hopelessness.
Now a stranger has come calling with an even stranger tale of monsters–horrible things that take children in the middle of the night and leave their own, things that crawled out of the fairy tales our barbarous ancestors used to tell, things that they tried to warn us about.

We didn’t listen.

Because monsters aren’t real, are they? There’s no reason to fear the dark, no reason at all to believe the old tales about creatures with a taste for human meat.

That would be insane… wouldn’t it?

Uncaged Review: A very creepy tale that speaks of a creature stealing your kids and replacing them with a monster to raise as your own. As a poor dad grieves his son, he learns that things aren’t what he thought. This takes him on a strange journey into darkness and evil. I really enjoyed this book and can see this author becoming one of my must reads. Please dive into the darkness with this book. Reviewed by Jennifer

5 Stars

Author Interview – Teresa Keefer

Cyrene Olson

February 13, 2018

As seen in the February issue of Uncaged Book Reviews.

Uncaged: I really enjoyed Blessed Be, can you tell readers more about The Summers Sisters series?

With there being three sisters, is this series a planned trilogy, or will it continue afterward?
The Summers Sisters series is a trilogy that will feature each of the three sisters. The characters were inspired by my own three daughters, who have very unique personalities. You will also find some components of spiritualism in the books, as I am presently a student of spiritualistic studies. The second book—Threefold—was released last fall and the last book of the series—Namaste—will be released in the upcoming weeks. I also am bouncing around the idea of Rowena’s Song which will be a story about their mother.

Uncaged: You live in a rural area with a small farm, much like I do. What is your normal daily routine with work, the farm and writing like? Do you set aside writing time or can you write wherever you are?

I am an HR professional by career, so I do work a full-time job to pay the bills. I also live in a rural area and only wish I had a small farm…but I do have a mini horse, a dog, three cats, and will likely purchase some chickens here shortly. I have a nice sized garden which I grow and can my own food and I have a summer place at the lake that I just bought last year. I don’t really plan out my writing time, I write when the mood hits me and have sometimes written for 20 hours straight with only food and bathroom breaks. I am going to try to do better this year at planning the time out but I can pretty much write wherever I am.

Uncaged: You are an attending author for Wild Deadwood Reads convention coming in June. Have you been to an event like this one in the past? What are you looking forward to the most?

I attended the event last year and had the time of my life! This is the only book signing that had so many other activities going on that a person could actually make a mini-vacation out of attending the event. Last year, I went horseback riding, ghost hunting, rode the train, visited wineries, and attended the rodeo. I am really looking forward to the rodeo again this year and can’t wait to pick up some more wine at Prairie Berry Winery! I met so many wonderful authors and readers last year and even some of the Deadwood residents and hope to do the same again this year.

Uncaged: Do you read your reviews? What do you take away from them?

I DO read my reviews! And what I take away from them is humble pride that someone would actually take the time to read and review my books.

Uncaged: Can you tell us what you have coming up next?

Sure! Where do I start? I will be introducing a new genre this year and it will be written under the pen name of Ann Nevada. The first book I am going to release under that name will be a political thriller that my best friend and companion gave me the idea for—he’s the person who encouraged me the most from the very beginning so I’m going to take the idea he posed to me and run with it. I am also going to be releasing the 4th book in the Possum Creek series and if anyone is familiar with that series, it will be based on the female veterinarian in town and a coon hunter. I will also be working on a couple of novellas that were previously released as part of two different anthologies. I have a busy year in the works!

Uncaged: What is one of the nicest things someone has said to you about your books?

That is a hard question to answer. I always love it when someone says ANYTHING about my books. It doesn’t even have to be nice because if they took the time to comment about them, they must have took the time to read them, right?

Uncaged: What is your favorite parts about being an author? What have you found to be the least favorite?

My favorite part is taking an idea and bringing it to life. I also love the traveling to book signings and meeting people. I hate marketing and social media work…which is why my daughter now does most of this for me.

Uncaged: What do you like to do when you aren’t writing?

Like I said earlier, I am in the process of studying spiritualism. I also enjoy gardening and cooking and when I need a break from writing, I will sit down and do a craft project. When I’m not enjoying being a homebody, I like going to movies or out to dinner or the occasional concert. I also will take a run to the casino a couple times a year. I volunteer for a local group that provides assistance to addicts and I have a lake place that I hope to get a lot more use out of this year.

Uncaged: What is the hardest part of a book to write? What is the easiest? From start to finish, how long does it take to finish a complete book?

I have no problem getting started but I do have trouble getting to THE END. If I can stay focused on the same book and not let my monkey brain run off and start on other book ideas, I can write a book in less than three months. However, I would say on the average it takes six months for me to complete a book. Again, because my monkey brain has other ideas!

Uncaged: What would you like to say to fans, and where can they follow you?

I would like to say thank you. My readers are the reason I write the books I write and I appreciate each and every one of them. You can follow me at www.facebook.com/TeresaAKeefer or email me at [email protected] to get added to my mailing list and you can find me on Instagram and Twitter as well.

[symple_box color=”black” fade_in=”false” float=”center” text_align=”left” width=””]Teresa Keefer is an indie romance author with an avid love of books since the tender age of 4. She started writing poetry in high school and after encouragement from her best friend, wrote her first full length romance novel in 2007. Coming Home was finally released as a self-published book in 2011 and was intended as a stand-alone until several readers contacted her to ask for more on the secondary characters which was the beginning of the Possum Creek series. In addition to writing under her own name, she also writes erotica under Autumn Drake and will be releasing her first political thriller in 2018 under the name of Ann Nevada. Teresa holds an MBA in Human Resources and attended law school for two years and has been in the human resource profession for over 25 years. She has also served on several boards of directors for human resource professionals and has taught human resource classes at the college level as an adjunct instructor. Her ultimate goal is to become a full-time author and have the time and resources to contribute to various community functions to raise awareness about domestic violence, human trafficking, and substance abuse/addiction issues. In addition to reading romantic fiction, she enjoys reading a variety of other material including horror, thrillers, mysteries, and non-fiction. As a woman with many interests, she balances out her life by doing crafts, gardening, cooking and studying spiritualism. A lifelong resident of Indiana, she presently lives in a rural area with a menagerie of animals close to her three adult daughters and seven grandchildren.[/symple_box]

teresakeeferauthor.weebly.com

Catch Up with Author Ginger Ring, Review & Excerpt – Escaping Ryan

Cyrene Olson

February 12, 2018

As seen in the February issue of Uncaged Book Reviews

Ginger Ring was a Featured Author in September of 2017. Since that time, she’s released Escaping Ryan, the next book in her Genoa Mafia Series.

Uncaged: You were a Featured Author in Uncaged Book Reviews in September 2017. How was your experience being in the magazine?

I love Uncaged so it was great fun. I’m a very shy in person and about sharing my work but it was easy to do and I loved how the article came out.

Uncaged: You are helping organize the Wild Deadwood Reads this year. Can you tell readers more about the convention?

Yes we are a multi genre book signing so we welcome authors and readers of all kinds of books. We have a lot of romance writers but you can also find mystery, history, self-help, children’s, and even a cookbook or two. The idea for the event came about while talking to other readers and authors. We discussed how we loved going to events but missed our families. That’s why we chose the Black Hills as the back drop of our book signing. I hear all the time how authors and readers are bringing their whole family to sightsee while they are there. In addition to the book signing, there is also a PBR rodeo in town, a bus trip where you can pan for gold, visit the Crazy Horse Memorial, and stop at a winery. We also have a book reading planned at a Victorian style theatre and a meet and greet the first night.

Uncaged: Your latest book in the Genoa Mafia series, Escaping Ryan, just released. What can you tell readers about this book and what do you have coming up after?

Escaping Ryan is Valentina’s story. She is the sister of Roman from the Crossing Roman book and she is also the daughter of a mafia don. Valentina is trying to find her way in life out from under the shadow of her infamous family and falling for a local cop is only going to make things more complicated. The small town of Genoa is also dealing with something that has everyone on edge and hiding behind locked doors – a serial killer. Like all my books, there is suspense, humor, and love. I hope readers will enjoy this book. I also just finished a short story called Taken to the Cleaner about the next couple in this series and that will be featured in the Loyalty anthology coming out in March. I am currently working on their full length story which is of now called Destroying Dominic.

Uncaged: Will you be attending other events besides Wild Deadwood Reads this year?

Yes, it will be a busy year. In April I will be at Clear Lake, Iowa for the North Iowa Book Bash, June is WDR in Deadwood, September I will be in Madison, WI for Mayhem in the Midwest, October will be the Fall into Books event in Sioux Falls, SD and finally Wisconsin Dells, WI in November for the Midwestern Book Lover’s Unite event. Come see me!!

[symple_box color=”black” fade_in=”false” float=”center” text_align=”left” width=””]Ginger Ring is an eclectic, hat-loving Midwestern girl with a weakness for cheese, dark chocolate, and the Green Bay Packers. She loves reading, playing with her cats, watching great movies, and has a quirky sense of humor. Publishing a book has been a lifelong dream of hers and she is excited to share her romantic stories with you. Her heroines are classy, sassy and in search of love and adventure. When Ginger isn’t tracking down old gangster haunts or stopping at historical landmarks, you can find her on the backwaters of the Mississippi River fishing with her husband.[/symple_box]

gingerring.com

Escaping Ryan
Ginger Ring
Contemporary Mafia Romance

Valentina Caponelli is more than a spoiled mafia princess…

She flees her father’s Chicago mansion to start a law office in a small-town in Wisconsin, determined to gain her independence.

Free of her father.

Free of her heritage.

Free of dangerous enemies of the family.

Then she falls in love with the one man who may cause her more harm than all the rest.

Officer Ryan Donavan is married to the force…

But the long-legged brunette he cared for after a car crash is all he can think about.

The problem is, Valentina is the sister of mob boss Roman Caponelli. The one man who definitely does not want his only sibling dating a lawman.

Ryan and Roman have made a tenuous peace, but if Ryan gives in to this passion, that peace will be shattered.

A killer is already roaming the streets, and all hell is about to break loose in Lake Genoa, Wisconsin. Can love really conquer all—or only make matters more deadly?

Excerpt

Valentina Caponelli cranked the radio up and sang a little louder. The headache she’d had earlier disappeared the minute she crossed the border into Wisconsin. Big city living had its advantages, but she’d missed the small town of Lake Genoa, or as the locals just called it, Genoa. She’d done what her father wished. Her law school diploma was proudly framed and sitting in a box in the backseat of the car.
When you were born into a mafia family, you did what they expected you to do, whether you wanted to or not. Valentina excelled in school and therefore she was the one chosen to attend law school. It never hurt to have someone in the family who knew the ins and outs of the legal system, as well as what a person could and couldn’t get away with. When you did something you shouldn’t, they knew how to keep you from going to jail.
The only problem was that her father didn’t want her to have other any other clients outside the family. That wouldn’t keep her very busy, and that was something she enjoyed doing—keeping busy. The more irons in the fire, the more Valentina excelled. The more she felt like her life had purpose and she wasn’t just the spoiled mafia princess everyone expected her to be. If law was her passion, that was yet to be discovered, but she was giving it a try.
Her father also had the nerve to point out that she was getting a little long in the tooth and needed to find a man soon. Make that a nice Italian boy approved by him to marry. Give me a break. When did being in your mid-twenties make you an old maid? Screw the old ways. If she could be a female lawyer, why did she have to marry? Who had time to date anyway when you were studying twenty-four seven?
She tapped her fingers on the steering wheel and hummed along with the latest Carrie Underwood song. No one would ever suspect her of being a country fan with her high heels, business suits, and her hair often in a chignon. People needed to see her as a professional, and wearing her thick dark hair long while sporting blue jeans and cowboy boots just didn’t cut it.
All the cramming in law school had taken its toll on her eyes. Now sporting reading glasses on occasion, her serious look had become more matronly librarian than anything else. That wasn’t going to turn the heads of too many men.
It was her father who had started her morning migraine and her sudden exodus from Chicago. If her older brother, Roman, could run parts of their father’s dealings from Genoa, so could she. Valentina had been away from her business, Firenza, for way too long and
Escaping Ryan
7
it was time to get back to doing something she enjoyed. Sure, law was easy and intriguing to her, but making that a success would be a huge undertaking.
Firenza was an old lakeside mansion Roman bought for her to run as a restaurant in the summertime and event center year-round. While in Chicago, they’d hired a manager to oversee the place and her sister-in-law, Madison, also helped in her absence. It didn’t take her long to realize that she wanted to put her lawyer shingle out in Genoa to be close to Firenza. Heck, it was almost time for Firenza to host the Snowflake Ball again.
Roman had met his wife at last year’s ball. Valentina sang along to the next tune thinking about her sibling and his lovely wife. It was hard to say which one she loved more. Madison may have been new to the family but she already felt like her sister. It had killed Valentina that she had to concentrate on the bar exam when she would’ve rather been more involved with the planning of their wedding.
Actually, there hadn’t been too much to plan, it happened so fast. Still, it had been far too long since she’d gotten to spend time with either of them. Then again, maybe she didn’t want to. They were so much in love the two could barely keep their hands off each other. All she needed was a constant reminder that there was no man in her life, no one man enough to be in her life. What self-respecting, law-abiding man would date the daughter of Chicago’s biggest crime boss anyway?

Uncaged Review: Ginger Ring is back with the next installment in this series, and this one lives up to its predecessor with ease. This can be read as a standalone, but reading Madison’s Mobster and Crossing Roman will give you a much better background, as the characters from the previous books are back in this one.

This time we are getting to know Valentina, daughter of a Mafia Kingpin and sister of Roman. Back in town after finishing her law degree, Valentina plans on opening shop in Genoa. When a car accident lands her back on the radar with Ryan, a longtime crush of Valentina’s, things get interesting. But with Valentina from a mobster family and Ryan a law officer, things get complicated quickly.

Plenty of suspense when people start ending up dead. Ryan will have his hands full trying to protect Valentina and deal with Roman. Plenty of suspense and romance – keeps the reader turning the pages. The author not only gives you strong men in her books, but the women are no pushovers either. Great mafia series. Reviewed by Cyrene

5 Stars

Uncaged Review – Blessed Be by Teresa Keefer with Excerpt

Cyrene Olson

February 11, 2018

Blessed Be
Teresa Keefer
Paranormal Suspense

Alana Summers was quite content with her life. A peaceful farm tucked in a wooded area by the lake with her pets for company. A shop in the small tourist town where she sells a potpourri of items that reflect everything about her. She’s at peace. She’s Wiccan.

Logan Farmer is the local sheriff. Small town boy who went to the big city and joined the police force. Then he came home where he belonged. He is deeply rooted in his Native American heritage.

Both had grown up knowing that there was more to the world that could be explained or seen. But neither of them knew that their peaceful lives could be disrupted in an instant by a legend long buried. A tale that had been told to them by Logan’s grandmother when they were young along with a warning that the ancient legend could replay during their lifetime.
But was it really an ancient paranormal evil come to roost or were the recent events merely the doings of a warped human mind? Or had the human’s events shaped the return of the evil?

Excerpt

Alana sat gazing into the fire she built earlier in the day to drive off the chill from the rain that fell steadily down and battered against the tin roof of her little cabin. Normally, she would have enjoyed the music created by the rain. It was normally a soothing sound to her. But tonight, something kept sending chills up her spine as if in warning of some impending crisis. She shivered then, as the chill became more pronounced when she thought about it. Pulling the heavy crocheted afghan around her more tightly, she scooted her chair closer to the fire and rested her feet on the thick, tri-colored fur of her mixed breed dog, Buddy. The big animal was laying on the rag rug by the hearth. He snorted in his sleep and rolled on his back to expose his belly. Part bloodhound, part St. Bernard, and part God only knew what, he still played like a puppy even though he was nearing six years old this winter.
“You’re such a silly dog, you even want your belly rubbed in your sleep.” She laughed and ran her stocking foot along his chest. The big dog was a comfort to her on nights like this. Alana wasn’t afraid to be out here, in the middle of nowhere, alone. It was just that tonight, something troubling was brewing and it was pricking at the edges of her peace.
The day had started out like most of her early autumn days. Getting up well before the sun came up, she had done some yoga, meditated and gave thanks for the many blessings life had given her. Breakfast had been a healthy combination of fruit, yogurt and granola with a cup of Irish breakfast tea sweetened with honey from the local beekeeper. After Buddy and Anastasia, her cross-eyed white Siamese cat had been fed, she spent some time cutting lavender and collecting ripe vegetables from her garden. Since the day had been sunny, she decided to leave the truck in the barn and ride her bicycle the three miles into town where she had her shop, Blessed Be.
Blessed Be was her pride and joy. A little bit of everything that Alana loved. She carried candles, potpourri and soaps made in her kitchen, herbs she grew in her own garden, used and new books, music CDs, and handmade crafts. Occasionally she would do the occasional spell or reading when it felt right to do so.
This morning the shop had been especially busy for a week day and she didn’t notice when the clouds started gathering off to the west, filtering out the sun. She did some accounting work while she ate her lunch, vegetable soup brought to her by her friend Bessie at the little diner opposite her shop, and caught up on her internet orders. When the delivery man pulled up out front to collect her shipments, he shook his head.
“Sure is a long winded storm brewing on the other side of the lake. I hope you drove to work this morning.” She looked up from her work, a calligraphy piece with an Irish blessing on recycled paper, she noticed through the front window the dark clouds that appeared to be boiling in the sky. By the time she closed the shop at five, the clouds were still hanging angrily in the sky but had not moved any closer to Lakeview, the small town that sat on the northern bank of Victory Lake.
The main street of town ended at the public access beach which boasted a smattering of guest cabins that were generally full the entire summer. As she rode her bicycle home, she kept a close watch over her left shoulder and noticed that the clouds were moving along the same path as her own. She got the first chill up her spine as she rode the bicycle down the lane to her little farm.
Sitting here now, she had a feeling something was about to usurp the peacefulness of their small town. She had circled her cabin and barn with salt, reciting the protection spell her mother taught her and her sisters many years ago while they were mere children. “It is the most important spell you must learn.” She could hear her as if she were right in front of her today, even though Rowena was tucked away in County Kildare in Ireland with Alana’s stepfather Niall Fitzgerald.
Rowena decided when the last of her daughters had turned twenty-one, it was time for her to go in search of her heritage which led her to Ireland. Alana, being the oldest of the three sisters probably remembered her father the most. Hobart Summers was a somber man, the exact opposite of their mother who was always filled with light, laughter and good spirit. He had been a good provider and when he passed from a sudden brain aneurism at thirty-five, he had left them with enough to live comfortably until they were all grown.
With her husband gone, Rowena was tired of living in the city and felt drawn to move all of them to Lakeview where she had worked as the manager to the lake cabins during the tourist season and part time at the small, local library during the off season.
Alana loved the peaceful solitude here in the country on her farm, and she relished the familiarity of small town life. Her sisters had chosen entirely different lives. Teagan was the materialistic one of the three and she had gone to college with the intent of learning something that would land her a wealthy husband and lifestyle. Not faring well on the first with a messy divorce behind her, she was a travel agent in Miami, Florida. Riana was the youngest of them, she was still finding her way in life, living like a modern-day gypsy moving every few months and doing whatever job appealed to her at the moment. The last Alana knew, she was working as a black jack dealer in Las Vegas.
Alana smiled to herself as she thought of her sisters. She missed them when they weren’t here and when they were both here for a visit, she spent most of her time and patience mediating between the younger two. Teagan always judging Riana for her lack of direction and Riana reminding Teagan that she was the one who had married a drunk playboy that had made sure she didn’t have ‘jackshit’ to show for it when they got divorced. And when Alana tried to intervene, they both inevitably turned on her and told her that she was going to live like an old maid the rest of her life if she stayed in this boring hole of a town. Rowena called weekly to check on all of them, but most of the time the only one that she could ever get hold of on a regular basis was Alana. “You are such a grounding force for our family, Alana.” That was always how Rowena ended their calls. Sometimes, Alana didn’t want to be the grounding force but it was what it was. Alana’s Wiccan element was Earth and that was what Earth did, it grounded. She reached for her tea and took a sip, enjoying the rich flavor of Earl Grey, her favorite. The fire crackled and Buddy groaned in his sleep, his back leg jumping as he dreamed of chasing some poor rabbit or squirrel in the woods. Anastasia was perched on the back of the sofa, her purring so loud that Alana could hear her from where she sat in her grandmother’s old wing chair on the opposite side of the room. The lights flickered a bit, but Alana was well prepared after spending the first winter without electric about half of the time. She had installed a propane powered generator the following spring which switched on automatically if the power went completely out.
Her cabin was cozy. She didn’t know exactly when it had been built, but she guessed probably in the early nineteen thirties when Lakeview first became a tourist spot. The property sat three miles from the town and about three and a half from the main shoreline but in this spot there was a small inlet the size of a large pond just a few hundred yards behind the barn. The main living area was open with the kitchen to the front on the right side of the entrance with a breakfast bar being the only thing that separated it from the small dining area that held a round table with two ladder back chairs.
The hand hewn, pine cabinets were plentiful and she had a laundry room off the kitchen which had yet more pantry storage. Beyond that area was her bathroom with its antique, claw foot tub and a more recently added modern shower. The sitting area of the living room was to the back of the cabin with a natural stone fireplace on one wall and bookcases tucked under the open staircase that led to the loft above. A door was in the middle of the bookcases and that door led to a small guest room where the previous owners had left twin beds.
A set of French doors faced the back, something that Alana had installed when she moved in so that she could have a good view of the woods from the covered back porch during the summer and from her living room in the winter. She used the space in the loft for her bedroom where she had put a king-sized bed in the middle of the room where the peak of the roof was. Her plan was to someday have a skylight installed in the roof above her bed so that she could see the moon and stars from her bed at night and so that the sun shone down on her every morning.
Generally, she watched television in the evening once the sun went down while she either read a book or did a needlecraft project. Her home was filled with things she had created herself and she loved books, which was evident by the full shelves under the staircase. Tonight, the satellite dish had gone on the fritz long before the rain started, so she turned on the CD player and listened to some relaxing instrumental music while she ate her dinner. Ham and cheese sandwich between two slices of homemade bread and a handful of sweet potato chips dipped in some caramel sauce.
She pondered how to fill the evening ahead. It had gotten dark early because of the approaching storm, a stark reminder that as the coming days passed by, winter would be nearer. When she consulted the earth spirits over the weekend during her Sunday afternoon ritual, they warned of an early winter and urged her to finish up the harvest as quickly as possible. However, the popcorn was not nearly mature enough to harvest and would need at least another month. The pumpkins and squash weren’t completely ripened either and her three apple trees had not fared well this year because of a late freeze that killed most of the early blooms. But she had heeded their warning and picked what she could, spending most of the afternoon on Sunday roasting sunflower seeds and stringing peppers to hang in the laundry room to dry.
The book on the table by her chair beckoned to her. It was a recent best seller by one of her favorite authors, a romance writer who threw in a little bit of paranormal for a twist. She picked up the book and tucked her legs up beneath her, the afghan wrapped around her lower body. Maybe reading something romantic would ease the uncomfortable feeling that still permeated her body.
The sound of the rain on the roof, the crackle of the fire, the softly playing music combined to relax Alana as she read and she felt her eyelids go heavy. Her breathing became shallow and the book slipped from her hands onto her lap as she dozed off.
She was running through the woods toward the small inlet behind the barn. The full moon overhead lit her way through the branches of the trees that had shed a portion of their leaves. Something, someone was compelling her to come.
Help. Help me. Please help me.
A cloud drifted across the moon and the woods was dark for a moment but it didn’t matter, she knew these woods like the back of her hand. One of the gifts of having Earth as her own element. Her bare feet touched the damp ground, the recent rain leaving puddles in some parts of the path that weren’t covered by the trees.
Why am I here? Oh, yes, the compelling subconscious knowledge that she was needed to help someone. Suddenly, the woods closed up and the path disappeared. How could this be? This was a familiar path. Where was Buddy? He had been ahead of me. She tried to call out to him but nothing came out of her mouth. Had she remembered to ground and protect herself before rushing out of the cabin in the middle of the night? She couldn’t remember. The moon disappeared completely, only it wasn’t the clouds that were covering the moon. What is it? It feels bad. Evil. Wicked. She tripped over a root that shouldn’t have been in her path and felt herself falling. Falling. Falling.
The wind picked up outside the cabin and a branch banged against the window, causing Anastasia to come off her perch on the back of the sofa and hiss. It was a chain reaction then, with Buddy stiffening up under her feet and sending out a warning growl. Anastasia growled low in her throat, a warning growl, then arched her back with the hair standing up. Buddy came to his feet and ran toward the door, barking vigorously, the sound echoing throughout the cabin.
Alana awoke with a start and took a relaxing breath when she realized she had fallen asleep and was dreaming. But something was wrong, she could sense it. Buddy was still barking furiously at the door and as she got up, his tail started wagging and he let out a whine about the same time a knock sounded at her door. Buddy whined again and pawed at the door.
She blinked the last remnants of sleep out of her eyes and got up from the chair, crossing the wood floor in her stocking feet. Reaching for the door knob she pushed gently at Buddy with her foot. “Move, you big lug. I can’t open the door with you in front of it.” The dog complied, his whole body wagging now and his tongue lolling out the side of his mouth, ready to give a serious tongue bath to whomever was on the other side of the door.
When she pulled the door open, a tall, familiar form was standing on her porch under the yellowish light. His back was to her, but she recognized the jeans clad figure with the holster at his side. Logan Farmer, the county sheriff, turned to face her and the look on his face was a grim one. “Alana. It’s not good.” He took a breath, his shoulders lifting and falling with the action. “Old Herman Monroe. I got the call about an hour ago.” He looked down at his feet for a moment and Alana followed his gaze.
The boots were covered with mud and something else. Blood. She put a hand out to touch his arm. She and Logan had been friends since they were kids and he had even dated her sister, Teagan, briefly. Very briefly. “What is it, Logan?”
When he looked up at her, his dark eyes were glistening with unshed tears. “He’s dead, Alana. His wife went to search for him when he didn’t come in for dinner and she found him in the barnyard. She thought maybe he slipped in the mud when he was feeding the livestock but when she looked closer, it looked…” His words trailed off and he appeared to be trying to compose himself before he continued.
This time, when Alana touched his arm she closed her eyes and the image came into her mind as clearly as if she had seen it herself. The old man lying in the muddy barnyard with his dead eyes staring up in fear and his throat ripped out. She pulled away, her stomach roiling and tears coming to her eyes. “An animal? How can that be, Logan?”
He lifted his eyes to meet hers. “You know how as well as I do. We all knew this was going to happen.”
She sighed and twisted her hands with worry. Yes, it had been predicted many years ago that something dark would emerge in this place and attempt to wreak havoc on the peaceful quiet of the lake town. It had perhaps been the reason that Rowena had felt drawn here and the reason her sisters had left as soon as they could. Things happened for a reason and the fates always brought what was needed to the point they needed to be.
She reached out and touched Logan’s arm again. “Come in for a few minutes and have something to drink to calm you. I need to gather myself before you take me there.”
Logan stepped inside and closed the door behind him, bending down to ruffle the dog’s coat. Buddy rolled over on his back, his way of directing the location of the ruffling to his belly. Logan smiled wearily. “You big rascal, you couldn’t harm a flea could you?” Glancing up he saw that Alana had returned with a short glass of amber liquid. “Please tell me that’s bourbon and not some sort of tea.”
“Of course, it’s bourbon.” She shoved the glass at him. “Some things just can’t be fixed with tea. Drink up.”
He sighed thankfully and took the glass before he gulped the strong liquor without taking a breath. She knew he never consumed alcohol on duty. Touching his arm. Carefully, this time, she frowned. “I thought you were off duty this weekend?”
He grimaced as he returned the glass to her. “This call came in after I got home to pack up my fishing poles for a weekend on the lake. Lance Myers, one of my college buddies and I were going up on the north shore of the lake to fish and drink beer.” He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and held up a finger. “I better call him and let him know with what had happened tonight, it looks like the trip is going to have be postponed.
The image of Herman Monroe’s mauled body kept returning to her and reminded her of the old prophecy. A prophecy that had been passed down from Logan’s great grandfather, a Sioux elder and shaman. The legend sent chills up her spine and dread filled her heart.
“Are you ready?” His voice interrupted her thoughts.
“Hold on, let me go get dressed.” She wandered in a daze to her bedroom and changed into jeans, a plaid flannel shirt in fall colors and her feet tucked into a pair of nondescript, black rubber boots that reached almost to her knees. She tossed on a bright orange rain slicker with a hood and returned to the dining room.
“There’s no reason to put this off, Logan. You know we have to get a step ahead of this.” He nodded and stood up from where he had been kneeling by the dog. Somehow, the big mutt seemed to have had a calming effect on him. Or maybe it was the bourbon.
“I know, let’s get going.”

Uncaged Review

This story is a light paranormal. Even though some of the main characters are Wiccan and are witches with mild magical powers and spells, it’s not a full on magical story. It weaves the magical parts into the story and is gentle enough not to let it overrun the story or the characters. When some strange deaths start happening, Alana and Logan begin to believe that the legend Logan’s grandmother told them when they were young could be coming true. Alana’s mother, Rowena calls and tells Alana she needs to get her two sisters home and she was catching a flight – they needed the strength of all them together if they were to fight the evil.

But is it the evil that is warping the human minds in town, or is it just a twisted killer?

This is part love story, part mild paranormal, and part thriller. It’s a good balance, and even though this wrapped up the arc running in this book, the series main arc still continues. Reviewed by Cyrene

5 Stars

Uncaged Review – Redemption Lake by Susan Clayton-Goldner

Cyrene Olson

February 10, 2018

Redemption Lake
Susan Clayton-Goldner
Mystery/Crime

Tucson, Arizona – Eighteen-year-old Matt Garrison is harboring two terrible secrets: his involvement in the drowning death of his 12-year-old cousin, and a night of drunken sex with his best friend’s mother, Crystal, whom he finds dead in a bathtub of blood. Guilt forces Matt to act on impulse and hide his involvement with Crystal.

Detective Winston Radhauser knows Matt is hiding something. But as the investigation progresses, Radhauser’s attention is focused on Matt’s father. Matt’s world closes in when his father is arrested for Crystal’s murder, and Travis breaks off their friendship.

Despite his father’s guilty plea, Matt knows his dad is innocent and only trying to protect his son. Devastated and bent on self-destruction, Matt heads for the lake where his cousin died—the only place he believes can truly free him. Are some secrets better left buried?

Uncaged Review: Don’t you hate it when you are halfway through a book and know who the killer is before it is revealed? This is not one of those books.

It kept me in suspense the whole way through. This book is well written and the imagery had me there and then.

I look forward to reading more from this author.

This is a must for any TBR list Reviewed by Skye

4 Stars

Catch Up with Linda Rae Sande and The Dream of a Duchess, Excerpt and Review

Cyrene Olson

February 9, 2018

As seen in the February issue of Uncaged Book Reviews.

Linda Rae Sande was a Feature Author in the October 2016 issue of Uncaged Book Reviews. We catch up with her this month to see what she’s been up to since we last chatted.

Uncaged: You were a Featured Author in Uncaged Book Reviews in October 2016. How was your experience being in the magazine?

We had a great experience! So many readers contacted us with comments about the article as well as the excellent reviews you posted on the three books that make up “The Sisters of the Aristocracy”. That series has since been released as a book bundle and has a completely new audience.

Uncaged: You’ve been very busy this past year! You’ve had five books release in 2017, is that correct?

Usually, we write three full-length novels and release a book bundle of one of the series. That’s our regular schedule with Twisted Teacup Publishing.

Scarsdale Publishing released THE ENIGMA OF A SPY in ebook on Amazon and TTP released THE ENIGMA OF A WIDOW in paperback as well as THE PRIDE OF A GENTLEMAN, THE SECRETS OF A VISCOUNT, THE CHRISTMAS OF A COUNTESS and THE SISTERS OF THE ARISTOCRACY: BOXED SET.

Uncaged: The Dream of a Duchess released on January 19, 2018, also in your Aristocracy family. What else is coming up in 2018?

We’re currently writing THE VISION OF A VISCOUNT for release in May (hopefully in time for RT Convention) and will follow it up with another in The Widowers of the Aristocracy series. We love writing the books that feature men as the main characters—they’re so interesting to research. And interviewing live men is always entertaining. We don’t mean to embarrass them—truly—so it helps to get a couple of drinks into them before asking for their takes on what happens between the sheets.

Speaking of books featuring men, the book bundle THE BROTHERS OF THE ARISTOCRACY is now available at most online retailers and will release on Amazon February 23. The first book in that series, THE LOVE OF A RAKE, is only 99¢ and is a favorite with my male readers.

Uncaged: You will be attending some in-person events this year including Wild Deadwood Reads – can you tell readers where they can meet you this year?

We’ll be at RT in Reno, Deadwood for Wild Deadwood Reads, and the Novelist, Inc. convention, NINC, in Florida and possibly InD’Scribe in Burbank.

[symple_box color=”black” fade_in=”false” float=”center” text_align=”left” width=””]A former technical writer, Linda Rae Sande’s interest in the Regency has resulted in nineteen books set during that era. When she’s not writing, she can frequently be found at the local cinema enjoying the latest action-adventure movie. During the winter, she follows the local junior hockey team and is a fan of the San Jose Sharks. She makes her home in Cody, Wyoming. Read more about her books on her website: https://www.lindaraesande.com.[/symple_box]

The Dream of a Duchess
Linda Rae Sande
Historical Regency

When Lady Isabella witnesses the murder of her mother—by her father, the Earl of Craythorne—she rides off to London in search of the man her mother, Arabella, instructed she contact lest anything befall her.

Directions send Isabella to the doors of The Elegant Courtesan, a high-end brothel owned by David Fitzwillim, Earl of Norwick, to whom she relates her gruesome tale. Stunned and heartbroken at hearing the fate of Arabella, David vows to ensure Isabella’s safety from Craythorne, and he enlists the aid of Octavius, Duke of Huntington, to provide protection and a home in the country, where she won’t be found. He would do it himself, but he’s due to marry the girl’s aunt, Lady Clarinda, and has some courting to do— his twin brother seems determined to make her his own wife.

Still suffering from the loss of his wife in childbirth, Octavius has long since given up the joy he took in his race horses—choosing to ignore his stables and country estate and live in London, immersed in reading and attending sessions of Parliament.

Not particularly pleased with having a ward, Octavius soon discovers Isabella’s passion for horses goes far beyond just riding them. With a new generation of racehorses in his stables, and his country estate suddenly in pristine condition, he may just experience some horse sense himself in “The Dream of a Duchess”.

Excerpt

Octavius continued to listen to the quiet in the front hall of Huntinghurst, wondering where the servants might be. He didn’t bother trying to soften the sound of his boot heels as he finally made his way down the hall that led to the courtyard. Perhaps everyone was outside, or in the village. He nearly stopped in his tracks when he remembered it was market day. Allowing a rather loud sigh of annoyance, he decided to make his way to the stables. He was already out the door and on the crushed granite path before he realized there was someone in the parterre garden.
And something with her.
Pausing, he angled his head to one side and watched as Isabella walked through the paths between the boxwood hedges. Wearing an apple green muslin gown and short gloves, her hair gathered into a bun atop her head, she looked as if she could be any one of a dozen chits he might pass in Jermyn Street whilst shopping, except instead of holding onto the handles of a hat box or shopping bag, she held onto a rope that encircled the neck of a colt.
Isabella had nearly reached the end of one row and was coaxing the colt to turn onto the next row in the pattern when she suddenly glanced in his direction.
Resuming his walk toward her, Octavius watched as Isabella had the colt turning onto a path that would allow her and the colt to exit the parterre and head in his direction. He met her just as the colt cleared the boxwood-lined path.
“Your Grace! What a pleasant surprise,” Isabella gushed as she pulled the colt to stand alongside her. She dipped a curtsy and, instead of offering her gloved hand, she stepped forward, wrapped her free hand around the back of his neck, and bestowed a kiss on his cheek. Next to her, the timid colt finally overcame its initial fear of the duke and showed a bit of curiosity by sniffing at his pockets.
A bit surprised by her greeting, Octavius managed to capture her free hand as she stepped back. He brushed his lips over the back of it. “For me, as well,” he replied, wondering at her affectionate greeting. Had she been taught a version of the French way to welcome an old friend? No one was about the grounds to see what she had done, though, so he decided not to admonish her. “Who do we have here?” he asked, rather stunned to see a colt so soon in the spring.
“This is Hermés. He’s proving to be as ornery a colt as his older namesake was.”
Octavius arched both eyebrows, rather surprised to hear the assessment given she had a lead around the colt’s neck. And the colt had seemed to follow her through the garden without trampling the plantings. “Yet he seems to be behaving right now.”
“It’s early,” she countered with a grin. “Pray tell, do you have something in your pocket?” she asked. “I’m afraid I’m all out of carrots, and he seems to think you have a treat,” she added as she noted how the colt was nosing his topcoat.
Remembering he carried the pasteboard box David had given him, he was about to pull it out of one pocket and hand it to her, but thought better of it. Instead, he reached into the other pocket and pulled out a small apple. He had intended it for his own mount, thinking he would go for a ride since he had spent the entire trip to Huntinghurst in the coach. He offered the apple to the overly curious colt.
Isabella rolled her eyes as the horse knickered and proudly downed the apple. Hermés was about to reach over and continue sniffing at the duke’s topcoat when Isabella said, “No, you’ve had quite enough,” as she pulled back on the lead.
Hermés’ stubbornness became apparent, though, and Isabella finally undid the lead from around his neck. “I’ve had enough of you today. Off to your mum,” she said as she placed a hand against the side of his head and gave a slight push. “It’s probably his dinner time anyway,” she added as she returned her attention to the duke.
Octavius watched as the colt, realizing it was free of the rope, hurried off to join Maia. The mare was tethered to a post just beyond the parterre garden.
“Other than the fact that she’s outside of the fence, why is Maia tied up?” Octavius wondered as he squinted in the direction of the brood mare. A descendent of several racing horses, she had the perfect lines and profile to be one herself, but he had never trained her for the track. He rather doubted she had ever had a saddle on her.
“She’s finally learning patience,” Isabella replied as she turned her attention back to the duke. “She manages to be the first at everything, you see.”
Octavius resumed his walk toward the stables, offering an arm to Isabella as he contemplated her mention of Maia being first at everything. Could she have been first at the finish line? he wondered. Well, it was too late given her age. She was well past six years, the top age for any of the races that took place in England. “For example?” he prompted, rather entertained by Isabella’s comment.
“She’s first at the hay, first out of the stables in the morning, first with the stud, first to foal…” She allowed the sentence to trail off as she placed her hand on his arm and walked alongside the duke.
“I must admit I didn’t expect to find any foals this early,” he said. “How many more will there be, do you suppose?” Ever since Jane’s death, he hadn’t given half a thought to the stables at Huntinghurst. Knowing Isabella took an interest and seemed amenable to spending time with the horses allowed him to continue his ambivalence.
“Just three,” Isabella replied with a sigh.

Uncaged Review: When Lady Isabella sees her father murder her mother, she runs away, jumping on her horse and going to the one place her mother told her to go if anything ever happened to her – the Earl of Norwick, David. David is determined to see to her safety, so he asks a Duke, to hide her away at his country estate.

Tucked away at the estate, Isabella finds a dream come true in Octavius’ stable of race horses. She’s given permission to work with his horses, and she spends most of her waking moments in the stables, as Octavius is in London most of the time with Parliament duties.

This is nice regency, with a bit of suspense and just the right touch of romance. I liked that this is an unconventional regency and that all the characters were flawed and had to grow beyond to reach their HEA. There is more than one story running in this book – and a couple of the supporting cast will be getting their own stories, which I am definitely looking forward to reading. And I definitely admit to reading the last chapter more than once. Reviewed by Cyrene

4 1/2 Stars

Author Interview with Maria Elena Alonso-Sierra

Cyrene Olson

February 8, 2018

As seen in the February issue of Uncaged Book Reviews.

Uncaged: Can you tell readers about your romantic suspense series, The Coin and The Book of Hours?

The Coin and The Book of Hours are romantic suspense thrillers that revolve around an artist, Gabriela Martinez and Richard Harrison, the man who falls in love with her.
In The Coin, readers see how Gabriela’s life is basically torn apart the moment she finds a coin in the middle of the mountain. That innocent incident thrusts her into a struggle between governments, terrorists, and madmen, all seeking knowledge she doesn’t know she has. Richard Harrison, the intelligence officer assigned to protect her, has all he can do to keep her safe. But when the psychological games to terrorize Gabriela escalate beyond his control, Richard must find a solution, especially since their bond grows, complicating things beyond the difficult. With the assistance of Maurice Nôret, Richard’s counterpart in French Intelligence, it’s a race to catch this killer before he can make his threat a reality—kill Gabriela.
Fast forward four years later. In The Book of Hours, Gabriela’s life is somewhat normal, although the events of four years earlier are still affecting her, propelling her to an important crossroad in life. But at the moment, she’s focused on the auction of her medieval manuscript recreation, one that, banking on her fame, will bring a lot of money for the children’s charity she sponsors. However, when art dealer, Arnold Wickham, catches a glimpse of Gabriela’s new work, he is like a man possessed. Now, he will do anything in order to claim it, and nothing, especially not Gabriela, will stand in his way.
Richard discovers that Gabriela’s life may be in danger from another psychopath, and he takes the opportunity to protect her again. It is a gift, a second chance that can bring them together once more. This time around, however, Richard is not going to be a self-sacrificing idiot, but will fight tooth and nail for her. But, in the shadow of this new threat, the stakes are now much higher, and there is much more to lose. So, if Richard doesn’t stay one step ahead of the danger, their lives, but especially their future, may be forever be lost.

The series is a wild ride, full of adventure, funny moments, and suspense. It also tackles important issues like love, loyalty, insanity, greed, family duty, hate, obsession, and deserved second-chances. It was a lot of fun writing it.

Uncaged: The Coin is one of those rare books that could easily translate to the big screen in my opinion. The right amount of danger, intrigue and romance would be a great story in a movie format. Who could you see playing the roles? Did you have any notable people imagined while writing?

Thanks. I think it can translate well to the big screen, too. I already have the screenplay written. Haven’t had time to pitch it, though.
And who I could see playing the roles? Ah, that is an easy one. When I started writing the novel, a visual of a young Harrison Ford was in my mind for Richard. Later it changed to a young Hugh Jackman. And the reason for those choices is the eyes, and their expression of a depth to the man that goes beyond the physical beauty.
For Gabriela, it was a bit difficult, since the visual in my mind didn’t match anyone. I finally chose Rachel Wiesz for my Gabriela. Again, it’s the eyes.

Uncaged: You are an attending author for Wild Deadwood Reads convention coming in June. Have you been to an event like this one in the past? What are you looking forward to the most?

I have been to many conventions such as Wild Deadwood Reads (but never in the same place twice). But what I’m looking forward to the most is meet new readers from a state I have not visited before. I love meeting people, sharing my experiences as author, and sharing my characters with them. I also love meeting new authors and network with them. It is very satisfying and a lot of fun.

Uncaged: Do you read your reviews? What do you take away from them?

Yes. I read every review. I love reading reviews—great, good, and somewhat good—even the negative ones (haven’t gotten too many of those, thank goodness). Anyway, you can’t please everyone, not all the time and with all things, but I appreciate their honesty. What I found most satisfying is that most reviews agree the characters are strong and that the story was good. Some other reviews make me scratch my head and think: “Say what? Did you really read the novel?” But, like I said, I appreciate everyone who writes one.

Uncaged: Can you tell us what you have coming up next?

I’m working on a detective novel, set in New York City (another place I’ve lived). He’s detective Nick Larson. The novel should be done by February, with a launch of late March/April. It is titled: Hanging Softly in the Night: A Detective Nick Larson Thriller.

Uncaged: What is one of the nicest things someone has said to you about your books?

That the characters and the story made them laugh and cry, and that they experienced everything about the action.

Uncaged: What is your favorite part about being an author? What have you found to be the least favorite?

Creating the story and the characters that live it. Putting down on paper what you have imagined and making it come to life is a real thrill. The least favorite is the time I have to devote to the marketing of the novel. It really takes its toll and takes a big chunk of time from my writing.

Uncaged: What do you like to do when you aren’t writing?

Traveling. Exploring new places for future novels. Meeting new people.

Uncaged: What is the hardest part of a book to write? What is the easiest? From start to finish, how long does it take to finish a complete book?

The hardest part is showing what is in my mind to readers without drowning them with pages and pages of unnecessary descriptions. I’ve learned to shorthand it. Sometimes you can’t help but want to share the minutia, and you have to cut to make it tighter and thrilling.
The easiest is creating the characters and the dialogue. Don’t know why that comes easier.
It takes me about a year from start to finish to complete a novel. For the short story collection – that took about 6 months. It’s a process, since you write, edit, send to editor, have your graphic designer create a cover, do the edits, send it to a proofreader, make those edits, check everything, format in various platforms, and then publish. Exhausting and time-consuming. But I take care that what comes out is the best I can give my readers.

Uncaged: What would you like to say to fans, and where can they follow you?

I’m so grateful to them. Without them, I wouldn’t be where I am, and I wouldn’t do what I do. I really appreciate the time they take to read my words and to comment on those words. And I love talking about my characters to them. It’s like sharing family with others who’ve adopted them.

[symple_box color=”black” fade_in=”false” float=”center” text_align=”left” width=””]Maria Elena Alonso-Sierra is a romantic suspense author with a unique point of view. Her adventure novels take place in locales across Europe and the United States, reflecting her international upbringing and extensive time as a global traveler. In her duology, The Coin and The Book of Hours, her characters, Gabriela and Richard, walk the same paths as their creator, though her life was never in so much danger. Her short story collection, The Fish Tank: And Other Short Stories, takes the reader on a ride across all genres; but the section, “Soul Songs,” delves into the gut-wrenching experience of exile through fictionalized Cuban Diaspora stories based on Ms. Alonso-Sierra’s own experience of exile. NY Literary Magazine describes The Fish Tank: And Other Short Stories as “a gracefully-written, varied collection of entertaining, touching, suspenseful and thought-provoking short stories. Her prose is vivid and distinct.” The author’s creepy short story, “Retribution Served”, is featured in the anthology Book Dreams: Volume 1, as well, available through all retailers. Ms. Alonso-Sierra’s writing career began circa age thirteen with a very juvenile science fiction short story, but the writing bug hit, and she has been writing, in one capacity or another, ever since. She has worked as a professional dancer, singer, journalist, and literature teacher in both the university and middle school levels (and not necessarily in that order) and holds a Masters in English literature. She loves to hear from readers and, when not writing, roams around to discover new places to set her novels.[/symple_box]

mariaelenawrites.com

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Uncaged Book ReviewsServing Indie and Small Published Authors since 2016

Uncaged Book ReviewsServing Indie and Small Published Authors since 2016

Author Interview – Lynda J. Cox

Uncaged Review – The Organ Donor, 15th Anniversary Edition by Matthew Warner

Uncaged Review – West of Forgotten by Lynda J. Cox with Excerpt

Uncaged Review – New Release – The Wicked Ones by J.Z. Foster

Author Interview – Teresa Keefer

Catch Up with Author Ginger Ring, Review & Excerpt – Escaping Ryan

Uncaged Review – Blessed Be by Teresa Keefer with Excerpt

Uncaged Review – Redemption Lake by Susan Clayton-Goldner

Catch Up with Linda Rae Sande and The Dream of a Duchess, Excerpt and Review

Author Interview with Maria Elena Alonso-Sierra