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Uncaged Review – Stealing the Show by Lilliana Rose

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Stealing the Show
Lilliana Rose
Contemporary Western

Kristie comes to the Royal Adelaide Show every year with the sheep. This year will she return with more than just prizes? Or will she steal the heart of a man as well, and snag the love of her life?

Kristie Johnson plans to run the family farm one day. As the only child, she lives with her parents and struggles to get them to see that she can make her own decisions and that she is a grown woman. Then, she meets Tully Row, a dancer performing at the show and she turns to him for a few days of fun. Instead she finds herself falling for him, especially when she finds out he’s a country boy himself.

Uncaged Review: Stealing the Show is the second book in Lilliana Rose’s Showtime Fever series. Tully is working as a dance to help pay for his law degree. There was no room on the dairy farm and he had to do something. At the annual Royal Adelaide Show and a miss understanding at the coffee shop brings Kristie and Tully together however briefly there was a spark. Kristie helps her family’s sheep. Can these two come back together?

I like the way the author tells her story. The reader feels like they are right there in the showroom with Tully and Kristie. Kristie keeps coming back to see Tully and you can’t help but see these two make some kind of relationship. Reviewed by Babs

5 Stars

Uncaged Review – Delusional Conduct by Ranalli and Clayton with Excerpt

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Delusional Conduct
Ranalli & Clayton
Psychological Thriller

When five lifelong friends with an incredible birthright, and their old town, already harboring secrets of its own, becomes overrun by new wealth after the ancient asylum closes for good, a chain of events are set in motion and no one is safe from what’s to come.

On the outside, Michelle and Jen appear to have everything going for them, including their three best friends; however, appearances aren’t everything.

When Brody and his spoiled friends play a cruel joke on one of the towns less fortunate the five friends devise a plan to get revenge. Once everything is almost set, a greater evil emerges, one that cannot be ignored.
Are Michelle and Jen manipulating the others, herding them like sheep to the slaughter? Or is this a twisted game where something much more sinister is taking place?
With tension rising and madness taking hold, can these friends keep it together, or will one crack under the pressure? After all blood, death and secrets always have repercussions.

Excerpt

Michelle led the way as Jen followed behind her silently. Their spot in the woods was ironically close to the back side of the asylum, whether consciously or unconsciously Michelle led them right down the fastest path which landed them right behind the burnt wing.
Michelle turned to look at Jen. They had always been so close that they never needed words to communicate before; so, Michelle didn’t think she needed to start changing things now. If something was off Michelle was sure Jen would tell her. She stepped aside and let Jen take the lead. Michelle followed her friend through the large, broken-down backside of the building and into an area that somehow survived the flames.
Michelle needed to break the silence that had now become awkward, half joking she said, “I’ve always wondered why they referred to this building for the criminally insane as a ward in the infamous “”Sawsville asylum for the severely mentally ill”.”
“Yeah, and then they went and changed it to “Sawsville Estates: A home with Extra Care”,” Jen said with a smile on her face.
Victory. At least she is speaking normally again.
Jen continued to walk, her head down and the smile gone.
I guess that victory celebration was a little too soon.
Jen navigated her way through the broken doors and windows that separated various sections of the building like she was on a mission to reach a particular place and fast. Michelle knew this building like she knew her own home, but a gut instinct told her Jen knew it better than she should. As usual, Michelle’s gut was right, Jen knew exactly where she was leading her best friend.
Jen pushed through a rusted door and sat on a melted metal bed. She looked over at Michelle and asked in a creepy whisper,
“Do you know where we are, Michelle?”
Michelle knew exactly where they were. Chills ran up her spine, she wanted to grab Jen’s hand and leave.
Forcing more confidence into her voice then she felt, Michelle said, “Yeah, Jen, I know where we are. We are in his cell. But what I don’t know, is why?”
Jen seemed to be annoyed by Michelle’s response. She let out a slight groan and stated in a very matter of fact way,
“This is where he comes. Every night he is here, sleeping! He thinks I don’t know, but I do. Look around.” Jen spread her arms wide.
“You can’t lie to me anymore, Michelle. You can’t try to make me think I’m going crazy. I know the truth,” Jen started to cry, “I’ve been right all along. Damn it. I’ve been right all this time. He had never died. He has been living here the whole time.”
Michelle stared at Jen, not saying a word.
As the silence stretched, Jen became more agitated.
“Michelle, why are you not saying anything? Don’t you get it? The man that murdered my sister isn’t dead. Or gone. He is still here and I know that you know it too.”
Michelle was in shock, she didn’t know what to say, or how to say it.
Does the truth always set you free, or is that just a saying? Michelle wondered before finally speaking. She chose her words carefully.
“Oh Jen, I know you’re not crazy. He was gone, I came here a lot. In fact, for years this is where I’d wake up, with no idea how I got here. I’ve never told anyone, but I’ve been sleepwalking a lot since….well, since I found Jess. It’s happening more recently. But Jen, you have to believe me when I say I didn’t know he was back until a few days ago. That’s all I know.”
Michelle, being superstitious, put her hands behind her back and crossed her fingers as she lied to her best friend.

Uncaged Review

A fast packed action filled story about five friends who believe themselves to be protecting their small town from some new kids who have harmed some of the other local kids. But one of the members of their group is hiding a dark family secret that if uncovered would cost alot of problems. I really enjoyed this book and I was pleasantly surprised that Michelle and her group of friends were kinda what you would call the good kids. This story is really dark and I loved reading every minute of it. Keeping my fingers crossed part two is out soon. As the story leaves you at a good place. Reviewed by Jennifer

5 Stars

Uncaged Review – Dangerous Destiny by V.A. Dold with Excerpt

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Dangerous Destiny
V.A. Dold
Paranormal

You can find the ebook version of this book in the Boxed set Sigils & Spells.

The Guild an order of witch hunters organized in the 1600s is alive and well. And they have Carolyn in their sights. Carolyn Soucek is a witch who can see the future, all except her own. Desperate for answers she consults a seer. Her destiny awaits her in Savannah, Georgia. At least that’s what the gifted psychic tells her. Darius Drummond is a vampire sworn to protect witches from the Guild. Hundreds of years, dealing with singular witches weren’t enough to prepare him for Carolyn. Now that he’s found his soulmate, can he save her from the pyre?

Excerpt

Carolyn Soucek’s eyes closed and she calmed her mind. The ticking of the Grandfather clock faded into the background as her thoughts silenced. Through her third eye, the warm, welcoming glow of her crown chakra bloomed like a flower under the sunshine of spring. A gentle brush of psychic talent caressed her mind in welcome as the connection to the ethereal world opened. Respected psychics told Carolyn that her talent was rare. Few witches could tap into the future of others. To Carolyn, it was like breathing, a part of everyday life. When she did readings, blurred images of that person’s life slowly came into focus and voices whispered secrets of the client’s future.
As a favored daughter of the universal source, she was highly gifted and sought by believers and skeptics alike. Those who loved Carolyn—clambered for a reading. Those who didn’t—gave Carolyn a wide berth.
Pushing her curtain of long blonde hair over her shoulder, she huffed out a frustrated breath. Why didn’t her foresight work for her as it did for everyone else? No matter how many hours she meditated, how calm she made her mind, she never received information in regards to her future.
“Nothing?” her friend Lynn asked.
Carolyn huffed out a breath. “Notta.”
Lynn grabbed her phone and scrolled through the contacts. “That’s it. We need to know what you’ve been sensing. We can’t avoid or fight whatever the danger is if we’re unprepared. I’m making an appointment with Maggie. She’ll be able to read you. Who knows, maybe you’ll get a twofer. Maggie may also get a bead on what you’ve sensed is missing in your life.”
Carolyn rubbed her arms, trying to wipe away an odd burning sensation. “Fine. I’ll give Maggie a shot. Margaret Stewart is very gifted. I’m sure she’ll have something to tell me. A witch that comes from such a long line of Scottish seers has to be able to tap into the danger I feel lurking in the shadows. Heck, if she can’t tell me what the threat is, no one can.”

Two days later

Carolyn pushed Maggie’s shop door open. Cool air-conditioned air washed over her face, and the tiny silver bells over the door tinkled softly, heralding a customer’s arrival. Margaret’s antiquated alarm system always brought a smile to her face. She and her friends often shopped for supplies at Maggie’s. And why not? It was the best new age shop in town.
She must have gotten a shipment in. The glass shelves that filled the small shop were bursting with artfully arranged crystals, amulets, and other assorted Wiccan items. Carolyn took a closer look at a collection of Amethyst. She could use a cluster next to her bed. She took first one then another and held it to sense the energy. The third one was perfect. Crystal in hand she turned to the display counter that ran along the right wall, but Maggie wasn’t there or anywhere else in the shop for that matter. She must be in the backroom.
Carolyn closed her eyes and breathed deeply, candles and herbs scented the air. Vanilla, lemongrass, and sandalwood seemed to be the fragrance of the day. Nice choices. The shop always smelled divine.
A familiar warm, husky voice pulled Carolyn from her reverie. “Carolyn darling, it’s lovely to see you.”
“Good afternoon, Maggie. How are you today?”
Carolyn smiled as she took in Margaret Stewart’s appearance. She looked like a gypsy of old. Colorfully dressed, with a scarf wrapped around fluffy, graying hair, bracelets jingled at her wrists, and large hoop earrings swayed with each step.
“I’m well. Are you ready for your reading or did you want to shop first?”
Carolyn held up the crystal. “I already did a little shopping. Would you like me to pay for it now?”
Maggie waved her to the back room, hidden behind a brocade curtain. “Not a chance. That amethyst was meant for you. If the fates want you to have it who am I to argue. Now, tell me what I can do for you.”
“I sense danger drawing near. The feeling of dread grows stronger every day. I have nightmares every night, but I never remember them when I wake. I’ve tried to look into my future, but my gift has never worked for me.”
Maggie took a seat at a small table covered with a beautiful family heirloom of embroidered cloth. “Ah, yes. The plague with which we all deal. Our gifts are meant to benefit others and never work when we attempt to use them on ourselves. Make yourself comfortable and give me your hands, I won’t need my cards or bones for this.”
Maggie studied the lines in Carolyn’s palms for a long minute, and then closed her eyes. Her head cocked to the right as if listening to unheard voices. “Interesting. Very interesting. There’s danger on the horizon. I can see it clearly. Your worries are justified. Before the danger is defeated, you will experience overwhelming pain. I want you to keep in mind as you travel this path that you’ll come out the other side a stronger person. But what is truly remarkable is the change I see coming of a romantic nature. Destiny is barreling hell bent for leather into your life. Your existence is about to be turned on its head by a tall, brunette, very handsome man. He’s not human. If I’m not mistaken, he’s a vampire.
“The combination of a vampire and a witch as soulmates packs a powerful punch. Don’t be surprised when you experience an instant, profound connection with this man. This relationship you’re about to enter won’t follow the normal rules society dictates we follow. When a vampire finds a soulmate the two people are drawn together like metal to a magnet and just as inseparable. It’s not uncommon for the couple to fall instantly in love. Do yourself a favor and don’t question your attraction when it happens. If you do, you may regret it. Grab your bags, young lady. You’re going to Savannah tonight. You must stay at the Hotel Indigo and attend the masquerade ball held there on All Hallows’ Eve.”
“Savannah? Tonight? I can’t just up and leave.”
Maggie patted Carolyn’s hand. “Of course you can. Destiny has cleared your path. You don’t screw with destiny or the gods. You know that as well as I. Now hurry home. You need to book your flight and hotel.”

Uncaged Review

A great start to a spin-off series from the author’s popular Le Beau Brothers series. Witch hunters in the Guild are out to kill witches, and our main heroine, Carolyn is targeted – she goes to see a Seer whom she trusts. Darius, is a vampire in the League of Guardians, who protect witches from the manhunt. Darius is assigned to protect Carolyn in Savannah.

I’m not giving anything more away, this book is a fast and furious read and even though I haven’t read any of this author’s other books, it’s definitely put them on my radar. Reviewed by Cyrene

4 1/2 Stars

Uncaged Review – Cursed by Skylar McKinzie with Excerpt

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Cursed
Skylar McKinzie
Horror

Skye, Stormy, and Savannah Davidson are no different from the other residents of Discovery, Massachusetts, or so they think. As their 25th birthday approaches, the town begins to treat them with wariness and suspicion. Skye begins to believe the triplets are special. Can they solve the puzzle of their past to save the town from the evil forces that affect their future?

Excerpt

Cursed Excerpt: Prologue:
1692: Discovery, Massachusetts

The growl from the other side of the door spurred Faith into action like nothing else could. It wouldn’t be long before they came for her, because of what they thought she was. Granny had warned her about going out during the hunt, but she simply wanted to, no, had to see him one more time. She knew it was a risk. She knew the magistrate watched her and her family, searching for any excuse to accuse them of witchcraft. She reached down to stroke the agitated wolf at her feet. Faith knew she should send him running into the darkness but was unable to bring herself to part with him before she had to. “Shh, Wolfe,” she rubbed his soft fur to quiet him.
Maybe Wolfe reacted to the growl from the dogs outside or, perhaps, he innately knew the mob was coming for her. Whatever the cause, his reaction galvanized her and she tore the house apart, looking for a place to hide the book that would condemn her and her sisters. Wolfe padded behind her, growling occasionally, as if to remind her the men grew closer. Faith turned to see her sisters, Chasity and Hope, standing in the doorway.
“Did I not tell you to run?” Faith quickly gathered some potions, vials and other essentials they would need, putting them hastily into a bag. With their flowing, black hair and blue eyes, they appeared identical to Faith, another mark against them as far as the town was concerned. Three babies, born at once, all resembling the same person, had to be witchcraft, didn’t it?
“Run!” Faith tossed the bags at the young women. She knew she caused the hunters to come for them. If only she hadn’t gone to see him, if she had simply listened to her granny. She darted after her sisters, out the back door of the huge house, understanding she would never darken its doors again.
Fleeing through the woods behind her former home, Faith heard the rapid breathing of her sisters, running beside her, and the padding footsteps of Wolfe as he led them to where their only salvation lie. Their lovers waited to spirit them away from this place, away from the ignorance consuming this town. The six of them would leave to a new land and begin again, somewhere they weren’t feared and wouldn’t be put to death for being different.
Faith sighed with relief when she saw horses ahead. “We’ve made it. It will all be okay now,” she whispered, turning to her sisters as she stopped to pat the top of Wolfe’s head. She looked up in shock as the magistrate came out of the darkness, his razor-sharp eyes full of hatred.
“Did you really think we would let three witches descend on the world outside of Salem? There’s no telling what kind of disaster that would cause.” Faith watched in dismay as her sisters were grabbed. She tried to go to them, but was stopped by hands gripping her arms from behind. To no avail, Faith struggled against the hands holding her.
“But, how…” she asked, tears filling her eyes when they stepped out of the shadows. “You! You betrayed us,” she murmured, tears falling as she was led to one of the three stakes erected; she had failed to see as they burst into the clearing.
The wide-eyed terror on the faces of the sisters she swore to protect prompted Faith to reveal their true nature. Flames licking towards their feet, the smell of burning material in her nose, she started to chant, her sisters’ voices soon adding to the incantation.
As the fire rose to meet their feet, their voices grew louder and Faith saw the townspeople fidget as their nerves got the better of them. She looked directly at the family who betrayed them, the family she, no they put their entire trust in. The birthmark on her shoulder stung, and the rain fell.

Chapter 1
2016: Discovery, Massachusetts:

Skye Davidson giggled as children plastered their little faces to the window to see the Halloween display she had hung the night before. Skye loved this time of year and wore a huge smile on her face as she went to start the pots of coffee her customers would inhale as soon as The Witches Brew’s door opened. Outside, the wind grabbed the hat of a young kid, blowing it down the street as the child gave chase.
The chatter outside, combined with Dr. John Andrews expected arrival for his morning coffee, was enough to get Skye singing as she worked. It was two weeks until Halloween in Discovery, and Skye wanted to seize the opportunity to cater to the tourists that would come through the area on their way to nearby Salem.
Halloween was heavily celebrated in these parts, and the Davidson sisters were more than a little involved in the festivities every year. Skye, Stormy, and Savannah Davidson grew up on the stories of the Salem witches, their granny hinting more than once that they were related to the infamous witches. Their mom pooh-poohed such notions every time their granny started her ‘nonsense’. Tabitha Davidson would shake her head, saying, “My three girls will keep their feet on the ground and their heads out of the clouds,” then shoot their granny a look they never understood before corralling the girls into the kitchen, leaving their granny teary-eyed behind them.
When alone, granny would tell them that being triplets was unique and that, when they were older, they would understand. Stormy, being the eldest of the three by ten minutes, scoffed after their granny went to bed, telling her siblings that, although she loved the stories their granny told, they were crazy rants and nothing else.
Skye couldn’t prevent the laugh escaping her as she recalled ten-year-old Stormy, hands on her hips, informing her ‘younger’ sisters that magic, ghosts, and witches were not real.
Skye sighed when arms wrapped around her from behind, dragging her back into the present. Granny had been gone for a few years now but the memories still stung. “What has you so tickled this morning, gorgeous?” John asked as he kissed the back of her neck, her bare skin tingling where his lips touched.
Skye turned in his arms, “Just happy this morning,” She pecked him lightly on the lips and pulled away as giggles from the other side of the counter registered.
Skye leaned over to view the two little girls who smiled up at her, “Are you trying to sneak up on us?” She teased, reaching behind her to grab two pumpkin spice cookies from the display case. “Here, run along now, and tell your mom her order will be ready at six.”
She looked back in time to see a strange look cross John’s face, “I guess we grossed them out.”
“What’s that look for?” She asked. Recently, some of the residents in town had been treating the Davidson sisters as if they had sprouted two heads.
“What look?” John responded, his gentle face pulled into an innocent expression.
Skye tugged on a lock of his curly, brown hair, “The look that says you’re going to take me out for a nice dinner tonight.”
“Is that the look you’re referring to?” He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close, his blue eyes twinkling, “You’re on then.”
******
After John left for work and things slowed in the shop, Skye mused over the strange glance. Her thoughts went back to the previous day, when she and Savi were in town. Talking to one of the shop owners, things were going fine until she mentioned their upcoming twenty-fifth birthday.
The girl’s mother, who had been knitting in the corner, let out a string of words that sounded foreign to Skye. The woman crossed herself before bolting into the back room.
Stuff like that seemed to happen everywhere they went and Skye swore she heard one woman mutter “Witches, they will destroy us yet,” when she passed her in the street this morning. She pushed the thought from her mind, customers flowing through the door for the lunch rush. She would think about it later.
Business was steady all day and Skye was exhausted, ready to close the Witches Brew as the clock struck six. Locking the door, she had barely finished sweeping the floor when the phone rang.
After assuring Stormy for five minutes that she would be home for dinner, she returned to the front of the cozy, little shop, broom in hand.
She stopped short at the sight in front of her, the broom dropping to the floor with a clatter. The door to the shop stood wide open. The Halloween decorations were not as she had left them: each of them—even the miniature, ceramic pumpkins—had their eyes trained on her as she stood frozen in the doorway. Scarecrows were turned upside down, straw trailing across the floor, a bat was stuffed into the mouth of one Jack-O-Lantern, its fangs bared.
She started towards the front door, the eyes of the Jack-O-Lanterns following her every step. Scanning the streets for an intruder, she slammed the door shut and leaned against it, her heart racing.
*****
The man watched from the shadows across the street, chuckling at the fear and puzzlement on the girl’s face as she shut the door. He bathed in the scent of her fear for a moment, then glanced around, shifting forms, before fading into the darkness from which he had come.

Uncaged Review

A town called Discovery near Salem where three triplets called the Davidsons learn that the reason why the town members have been looking at them funny is because there really witches. After learning this fact the three sisters do everything they can to learn their powers, quickly so they can banish the evil causing chaos in their town. This story is filled with magic and history and is very entertaining. Book 1 is really giving you some characters history and background and plotting up to tell us who is really the big bad is. I thought this book was a mixture of Charmed meets Vampire Diaries. Patiently awaiting book two. Reviewed by Jennifer

5 Stars

Uncaged Review – Highland Chance by S.R. Mitchell with Excerpt

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Highland Chance
Box Set – 3 Book Series
S.R. Mitchell
Historical/Time Travel

Second Chance with a Highlander (Book 1)

When Kate looks into his eyes she realizes she has
seen him before, in her dreams.
She has felt his kisses and touched his skin.
Now Kate finds herself in a different place and time. He is not a dream but very real and handsome, intoxicating.

Highland Tides by Chance (Book 2)

Nothing very exciting ever happened to Anna until she woke up wet, covered in sand, and with a man standing above her.
He is tall. He is strong. He is very handsome.
He makes her mouth water and her body quiver.

A Chance to Love a Highlander (Book 3)

When Elle finds herself in the ghostly way–dead– everything is put into perspective, but that will not change the feelings she has grown for one man even though she believes him forever lost to her.
Elle and Mikel have more in common than she realized.
They are both in for a surprise of epic proportions and only time will write their ending…

Finding His Heart ~ Maverick’s Story
Bonus Novelette
Maverick never thought he’d find love as he watched each of his closest friends find just that; earth shatterimg love. What he finds defies time…

Excerpt – Chapter 16

“Wake up!” Elle all but shouted in Anna’s ear. She was standing on the side of the bed, closest to the sliding doors to the small balcony. The sliding doors were open letting in the cool night breeze.
“Why are you yelling?” asked Anna as she sat up in the bed trying to gain her bearings. Anna looked to the open sliding door and shivered. “Well? Why are you yelling?” Elle just smiled at her.
“Get up out of that bed and come look.” Elle was very excited. “You will not believe where the next port of call is.”
Anna paled. Something was up for her sister to be so excited. “The next port?”
“Yeah,” answered Elle, waving her hands toward the balcony. “I think this is maybe the last one if I remember the itinerary right; then we are homeward bound.”
Anna slowly made her way to the balcony on shaky legs. High on the cliff was a small stone building looking out onto the water. Anna stood frozen in place and watched as the rocky cliff went by to reveal a town built up behind a small port. A few small fishing boats dotted the water.
“Oh, shit,” Anna finally said. “This is where I fell.” She turned to look at her sister before turning back. “The port is so different, but…” Anna couldn’t finish. What were the odds they would be at this particular port? The cruise ship would have a land excursion planned for this small town, and Anna planned to be on it.
“This is all meant to be.” Elle turned excitedly to her sister, but her excitement faded when she saw Anna’s expression. “What’s wrong?”
Anna was shaking. “When you woke me up,” Anna said quietly. “I was dreaming of Hamish.”
Elle walked over to her sister and grabbed her shoulders reassuringly. “That’s a good thing, right? What did you dream about?”
“He was building that little stone structure on the cliffs,” Anna smiled sadly. “Hamish was asking why I’d had to leave and that he loved me.” Her eyes connected with her sister. “It was so real. When I said I loved him too, I could have sworn he heard me.”
“Oh my,” breathed Elle, “like in that small stone building?”
Anna just shook her head.
“Hurry,” urged Elle. “Take a quick shower and get dressed. We need to get off this ship and on the boat headed for the port.”
Anna felt excited. All she could manage was a nod as she grabbed some clean clothes and headed toward the bathroom.
Halfway to the bathroom, Anna froze. “If this is a sign of something and I am not just getting my hopes up,” Anna paused. “I want to call and talk to Mom and Dad before we leave. I want them to know that everything is okay, that I am okay.”
Elle smiled. “I think that’s a great idea. Are they up now?”
“No,” Anna said, reaching for the phone beside her bed and waited for the communication service to answer. “They’re almost seven hours behind us, but…”
“You need to,” finished Elle.
Anna nodded her head in agreement. “After everything that’s happened, I’ve learned that nothing is what is seems to be, and anything is possible. I need to talk to them.”
Elle understood, and sadness pulled at her heart. “I wish I could talk to them, too.”

~*~
Two hours later, after Anna grabbed a small breakfast, they were in line to board the boats set for the port. Elle stood beside her looking just as eager as Anna felt. Now they both had a reason to get back, Anna thought.
People surrounding her were so excited and chatty; it was contagious. Anna felt the excitement growing inside as they finally began boarding the excursion boat.
The whole boat ride, Anna tried to keep down her excitement, wondering what this all meant. What if they reached the stone building and it meant nothing? She kept trying to tell herself it was a coincidence. Turning to smile at her sister, Anna stared into the face of a cheerful elderly woman.
Now was not the time for this, Anna thought. She looked around the entire boat for her sister, but she was nowhere to be found.
Anna sighed and sat down in one of the few empty chairs that dotted the deck space.
She watched all the excited faces around her and realized how crazy this whole thing was and how uncertain was the outcome.
Standing to disembark, Anna glanced around once more.
“I am so sorry,” Elle said. “I don’t know what happened. I was beside you one second and then the next I was floating like in a dream,” Elle whispered in her sister’s ear. “It was like having a crazy acid trip.”
“I wondered where you had gone to,” Anna responded as she continued walking on the path along the street. There were little shops all along the road facing the water. Each building was only one or two stories tall with the occasional three-story building in different colors. “Well isn’t this quaint.”
“He was there,” Elle breathed heavy.
“What?” Anna stopped still. “Who?”
“Mikel,” Elle smiled happily. “He was reaching his hand toward me. The look on his face was…was…” Elle paused, “want.”
“Oh, so you pop out to have a lust-filled floating acid dream?” Anna huffed.
“No,” Elle countered, perturbed. “Like love.”
“Elle,” Anna started.
Elle held up her hand, “I know,” she chuckled. “I am a dead girl, but something was different. I could almost feel him, and I could hear the waves behind us.”
They both turned toward the cliffs to the small stone structure, “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” asked Anna.
“Yes,” answered Elle, “let’s go.”
After hours hunting down a local willing to drive them up to the site on top of the cliff, they stood staring at the little stone structure. It was beautiful and familiar.
“This is how we can get back,” said Elle as she tentatively stepped toward the arched opening that was the doorway. “Anna, follow me.” Elle stopped to reach for her sister’s hand. “This is what you wanted.”
She stared at the structure. Anna placed her hands gently on her belly where life grew. “What if it hurts the baby?”
“I do not think we would have been led here if doing this would in any way harm the baby,” Elle reassured Anna. “I am walking through that opening with you,” Elle affirmed, “hand in hand.”
Anna hesitated a moment before she took a big deep breath and grabbed her sister’s hand. “What will happen?”
“I don’t know,” Elle smiled. “Maybe nothing, but it is worth a try.”
“But what if I lose you?” Anna countered.
“No matter what happens, you will eventually see me again,” she assured Anna. “You two belong together.”
The wind howled as dark clouds seemed to form overhead and the water below grew choppy.
Anna nodded. “This has been the craziest experience of my life. I love you, Elle.”
“I love you too, sis,” Elle smiled.
They held on to each other’s hand and walked through the stone opening.

Uncaged Review
Second Chance with a Highlander
Book One

I wasn’t sure how this story was going to go with the way we started – but Kate is dying of cancer and prays for a miracle. In the hospital, she loses consciousness, and she realizes it’s time – but right when the peace of the darkness begins to envelope her, she’s tossed back into life, into a body in medieval Scotland – in a body that has been tortured. When she is found by Connor and taken back to his castle, she realizes that she’s dreamed of Connor and her soul is at peace with him.

This is a second chance at life, and a second chance for two souls to find each other, over and over. Heartwarming, intriguing and engaging. The only part I wasn’t a big fan of was the epilogue. I personally would have liked it better if it was left off.
Reviewed by Cyrene

4 Stars

Uncaged Review – Shiva XIV by Lyra Shanti with Excerpt

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Shiva X1V
Lyra Shanti
SciFi/Space Opera

Prophecy rules, science rebels, and the fate of all depends on a boy named Ayn.

Predestined to become the great messiah of his people, Ayn must save his galaxy from disease and war. But when an unknown enemy threatens everyone he loves, the destiny he thought was his spins out of control.

A coming of age story amidst galactic turmoil, Shiva XIV has action, romance, mysticism, and magical creatures. Join Ayn and his friends as his journey to become a heroic legend unfolds!

*Adult themes, intended for mature teens and up.

Excerpt

“That’s The Chord!” Zin shouted as it went by.
“The Chord?“ Ayn yelled back. “What is it exactly?”
“It’s the main way everyone here commutes. We should take it into the heart of the city!” Zin happily exclaimed.
Following close behind his new friend and guide, Ayn clumsily carried his suitcase, trying his best to keep the pace. They soon went upstairs, which spiraled and seemed to go on for miles. Finally, when they reached the top, they had to wait a few minutes for the next train to slide through the opened silver dome that covered them from the smog-filled sky.
When the oval doors to the train opened automatically, Zin smiled at Ayn with a wink. It was as if this was the happiest day of Zin’s young life, and Ayn had absolutely no idea why. However, as they sat down upon the long horizontal benches, Ayn began feeling a sense of wonder and calm. It was the first time since the horror of his birthday that he didn’t feel a deep emptiness and sorrow. He even felt a small amount of Zin’s excitement as he peered through the window in order to watch the traffic of floating vehicles hovering below them.
“Look!” cried Zin. “It’s the Hithra Temple!” Ayn followed Zin’s pointed finger and looked to his right. Ayn could just make out a massive structure that had a marble surface with sharp triangular edges. He wondered what a temple was doing in a city that was known to be free of religion, but he didn’t ask his excitable friend. Zin was in such a happy state, and Ayn didn’t want to disturb him.
As the train raced through the city, it made several stops before Zin got up and motioned to Ayn that it was time to leave. The two halves of the oval door slid open and they exited the train quickly with luggage in tow.
“Where exactly are we going?” Ayn asked, already tuckered out.
“Well,” said Zin as he paused for a moment, scratching above his right eyebrow, “I think we should just head into the artist’s section of the city and see where fate takes us.”
“Fate?” scoffed Ayn. After everything that had happened, he seriously wondered if fate existed. “Aren’t your people scientists?” Ayn said with a hint of sarcasm. “Do you even believe in the concept of fate?”
“My people may not,” Zin casually replied, “but I do.”

Uncaged Review

The first book in this SciFi is a great beginning – and if you’ve never read Space Opera or you’ve wanted to and didn’t know where to start, this is a good place to begin. A very nicely thought out world, with quite a cast of characters. The main characters are Ayn and Zin, with Ayn the next savior of his people, like the next Buddah if you will. He’s also intersex, meaning he has both female and male genitalia, and I was wondering where this was going, but in this first book it is more of a coming of age story and coming to terms with his future and this aspect of his character may be left to later editions. The book was slow going the first third of the way through, but the world building and character development is superb.

The plot gets moving when Zin helps Ayn escape danger – and at this point, the reader has slogged through the slow part of the first book in a series often suffers from – the background building and getting the reader up to speed.

Just one negative is the overuse of exclamation points. I don’t feel they gave the emphasis that was intended, more of an irritant. Being the first novel from this author, I can easily shrug it off.
Reviewed by Cyrene

4 Stars

Uncaged Review – An Enlightening Quiche by Eva Pasco with Excerpt

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An Enlightening Quiche
Eva Pasco
Contemporary

An heirloom quiche recipe and baking rivalry turn up the heat in a Rhode Island mill town rife with secrets and scandals! Misconceptions, misdeeds, and maliciousness wreak havoc on those caught in the crossfire of a tragedy.

Excerpt

From An Enlightening Quiche: Chapter 10 in Entirety

Augusta: “I wish you’d find a good man to settle down with by the time your next one comes around!” The crux of Oncle Emil’s “flirty in your thirties; finished at forty” pronouncement at last year’s milestone birthday fête hit my psyche with the displacement of an earthquake’s aftershock when the forty-first made landfall. Settling down with any one of the misfits I found myself attracted to, while shunning decent enough men like Ray Provost, a ticking time bomb by profession, unsettled those who positioned themselves along the periphery of a gladiatorial arena, helpless to shield me from deep wounds self-inflicted by engaging in morally destructive behavior. Hooking up is one thing. Falling in love with any of the riffraff
I bedded, a dim prospect aligned with descending the rungs of a ladder into an abysmal abyss. Stuck in a holding pattern, I didn’t want to fall in love only to have my heart broken into irretrievable pieces.
Before the spectacle of the upcoming candle blowout took place, during one and the same period of grace leading up to Thanksgiving, a stranger’s downward climb precipitated even more disgraceful conduct which eventually put me in the bad graces of those detrimentally affected by my actions. On my own collision course with destiny, hitting Blackstone’s rock bottom seemed the only way I could ever gain enough insight to navigate through dire straits and orient my moral compass toward beau chemins.
***
According to the National Weather Service, November’s average temperature of 49.6 degrees in the Northeast tied us 2nd place with the topaz months of 1927 and 1948. A lucky break for Marc who got off to a late start lining up estimates for a roof replacement, then deciding to abandon his systematic search midway through the alphabetical list of prospects in favor of hiring the A team comprised of a scruffy, hungry-for-work, two-man band of brothers who billed themselves as “Above the Rest Roofies.” A price quote and handyman pitch in laymen terms convinced Marc a Tremont roof over our heads would keep us dry for many years to come.
Undistracted and undaunted by my serial yawns of boredom induced from having reached a saturation point on the subject of roofs, Marc continued his monologue despite my detachment. “Ignorance or lack of proper workmanship eventually causes the gravel to be moved or removed from the tarpaper, exposing the roof to the elements so that over time water gets in. I’ve been assured they’re going to use a tarpaper variant where gravel is applied to the hot tar during the manufacturing process, forming a permanent layer to give the roof ongoing protection. Not bad, eh?”
“Oui oui.” I muttered Beauchemins’ equivalent of “uh huh.” My lack of enthusiasm merited one of Marc’s noogies to my head before he left the office to oversee printing and binding operations.
Ouais! Yeah! Our banner November ranked second amongst the warmest in recorded history, going as far back to the late 1800s when the first roof insulated the newly constructed building known as American Voyager Luggage. Forwarding fast to Brulé Bookbinding, a few roofs later, I’ll relate straightaway how atmospheric conditions struck at the heart of matters due to a gift horse of 68-degree, sunny weather on a Thursday which reigned in holy terror.
***
Marc hadn’t bargained for the two-man band of brothers blaring hard rock from a boom box up on the roo-oo-oof, a trouble-proof paradise where their cares may have drifted into space, while the rumble of guitar riffs menaced those who occupied the world below— namely moi! Most days Marc took refuge inside the belly of the mill, preferring the steady onslaught of noise produced by cacophonous machinery for hours on end. Or, he’d barricade himself within the vault of the restoration room, a sanctified humidor for a cloistered bunch who restored and rebound rare books.
A glutton for auditory punishment, I managed to overcome my struggle against friction and opened the oversized office window halfway to take advantage of the afternoon’s unseasonal balminess. As a consequence of fulcrum’s folly, several attempts to schedule new work orders proved futile while mentally battling a barrage of riffs from “Smoke on the Water.” Daaah daaah daaah …!
Amazingly, a piercing cry of agony could be heard above Deep Purple’s smoke screen, alarming one of the bros to kill the deafening decibels. A salvo of expletives rife with obscenities ripped through the air, zooming in one ear and out the other, kicking off a visual with potential to set my loins on fire if executed in slow motion. Timing may be everything, but so is tempo when it comes to priming one’s libido for ribald, raunchy sex! Strange, what a woman’s desire can influence her to fantasize through envisioning a wicked game of trailing an ice cube from sternum to steel-panel abs on a select male!
Rhythmic fluctuations of high voltage ping-ponging throughout my brain created a rapid-fire pulsation whenever I mobilized the memory of a midday descent from a rooftop as a slow tango, in stark contrast to the slapstick antics of a beau jester frenetically fleeing his assailant and hell-bent on making a beeline for temporary asylum in my office. Forever committing his magnum force to memory, I’ll begin with the first tantalizing increment of a roofer’s rush to the ground along the rungs of a stabilizing, extension ladder.
His boots, worn and rugged as the man who slipped inside them. Those leather work boots portended a toughened and wizened individual who blazed the less-traveled roads in life, slogging through mud and trampling over brushwood, incurring abrasive scrapes and scratches, yet emerging a formidable survivor for having endured and overcome setbacks along a precarious journey.
Thighs tightly squeezed inside the loincloth of washed-out denim jeans emphasized lean musculature chiseled from daily exertion on limbs attached to a man who manually labored and belabored on a rooftop dawn to dusk. Licensed, reliable, and you betchya— affordable, after shooting himself in the foot by undercutting prices to get a leg up on competitors all vying for their place in the sun. Then, paying through the roof for general liability insurance in order to improve his rating in procuring work for a client base who wouldn’t consider job bids otherwise. Sky-high thighs couldn’t afford to be riddled with arthritis or sustain injury on the job if the man connected to them intended to support a family and supply its daily bread. What about health insurance? At skyscraping prices, not likely, unless covered under a spouse’s plan, depending on costs for deductibles or co-pays. Amen.
Furthering along the rungway, the full monty slide progressed to a fit n’ trim torso which no tool belt could disguise. Since roofing demands physical strength to lift and lug heavy materials, the muscles along his equatorial region were terra firma, imploring me to speculate if I could bounce a quarter off of his solar plexus as well as his gluteus maximus. Curiosity in conjunction with lacking the psychological acumen to delay gratification creates a lethal combination where I’m concerned.
Eye movement proceeded up, up, and away from the flyway to the byway of biceps on sinewy upper arms sun-bronzed and bulging from the tightness of his grip on the side rails of the ladder as he shimmied closer to ground level. This cat on a hot tin roof sheathed inside a frayed, faded T-shirt stained with perspiration harbored no fat! Lean and agile, though far from fragile, and nimble without a quibble, this roofer achieved peak performance with every mount. Double entendre, intended! Seducing and inducing me to believe the counterpoise necessary for navigating slope transferred an ability to shoulder responsibility in juggling the onslaught of lemons life hurled at him.
Having progressed this far along my voyeuristic excursion of roofer madness, the cumulative effect from each salacious revelation built a sexual tension which would either downgrade to a fizzle or escalate to a frenzy, hinging upon my reaction the first time ever I saw his face for determining whether the sun rose or froze in his eyes. Turn-on or turn-off? That is the salient, silent, theatrical question posed by two people who find themselves thrust together on a make-do stage paired inside a theater of the round, oblong, square, oval, or heart-shaped for that matter.
The locale of such meetings proves incidental and inconsequential as does an inspection of each facial feature, separate and apart from its composite effect, better discerned by a holistic approach when scaling the topographical canvas of configurative physiognomy. Circumstances behind the downslide decreed and decried the parameters of our face-off when the eagle landed on turf in front of my window, panting in sheer terror and barely managing to issue a disarming call to armament.
“Call 911! I’ve been stung by a yellow jacket! Could lose consciousness under ten minutes from … allergic reac …”
***
A surge of adrenalin ramped up my retreat from the window, inciting a mad dash to the fridge for Blanche’s EpiPen. Frantic pounding on the outside door initiated an abrupt turnaround where I practically fell flat on my face from the disorientation of spinning my heels to unlock and open it. A race against time staged a comedy of errors fueled by trauma on the other side of the heavy metal conduit to safety. Both of us dispensing with formal introductions, I grabbed him by the arm and led him to my desk chair where shoving him onto the seat nearly caused an overturn.
I rushed back to the fridge, and while rummaging its interior for the elusive pen, he rolled up to me, inches from my derriere, primed for a confrontation undoubtedly ripe with derisive accusations as to what I was doing on my hands and knees when I should be phoning in a medical emergency. Voila! Concealed behind Charlemagne’s yogurt army. Forearmed, I stood up and towered over a cornered rat. Before he could vent aggression, I took high aim and jabbed the EpiPen into his outer thigh with all my might to make sure I penetrated denim’s tough hide and made contact with flesh.
A split second of bewilderment gave me the chance to step back out of harm’s way, fearful he’d slug me in retaliation for the pain I’d inflicted, then top it off by adding insult to injury. Shock mutated into agony verbalized as a savage groan while he grasped the shiverme-timbers, wooden side arms to buck up.
Rooted in fear from a precarious predicament of raising the hackles on a surly beast, I braced myself for the seething rage about to spew. Cued by the grotesque transfiguration of lips contorted into a snarl, and teeth clenched for conveying vehemence, I fortified my psyche to withstand any unscripted insult he might add to my injurious jab. “You’re deranged and oughta be locked up in a psycho ward! I’ll be lucky if I can walk outta here!”
He couldn’t. He stood, but complained of feeling faint and collapsed onto the seat’s unforgiving surface I never had the prescience to soften with a chair pad.
Dizziness! Blanche’s one-time tutorial, more of a fire-and-brimstone homily before a congregation on coffee break, prophesied the deadly sins of bee stings. One of them, lightheadedness, or a sharp drop in blood pressure. Another, a red rash spreading beyond the sting site, his easily discernible as a tumescent lump on the side of his neck, and most definitely red-flagged. Two symptoms too many!
Severe allergic reactions aside, Blanche instilled the fear of God in her flock when she impressed upon us the thirty-second margin for removing the stinger to prevent any more bee venom from entering the bloodstream, and further cautioned first responders not to pull out that sucker. Scraping it with a stiff-edged object, or fingernail if need be, would inhibit releasing more toxins into the skin. Time and tide wait for no man. Seconds had trespassed into minutes since he sounded his own alarm. Coûte que coûte, as in hook or by crook, I had to make it snappy. Que ça saute!
Ransacking the top drawer of my desk and spilling much of its contents onto the floor during the search, I made a split-second judgment call for Bic to do the trick and pried the pen cap loose with my teeth. The element of surprise attack no longer a viable option, I banked on power of persuasion to convince the crumpled mass slumped forward in a heap of my target objective to approach his jugular with a cap clip. Offering no resistance, he wearily nodded his consent.
Frazzled but belatedly pressed to depress the 911 phone pistons as a last resort after an expenditure of energy void of coordination, I bit my lower lip in trepidation, pondering whether his family might initiate a civil action suit by filing a wrongful death claim stemming from my negligence to engage an emergency service tout de suite.
I never completed the push button triad, prevented from doing so when Tremont no. 2 burst into the office, facilitated by my overt neglect to lock the door behind me when I admitted Tremont no. 1. The stockier, more clean-shaven half of the brotherhood, who unceremoniously introduced himself as Ashe, suspiciously eyed the phone receiver in my hand, and voiced his irritability by insinuating I didn’t understand the gravity of the situation.
“Hang it up!” Startled, I dropped the receiver which dangled by its cord over the desk, emitting an off-hook quad frequency demanding an urgent smack down on the cradle. “My brother doesn’t know you saved my life by nearly stabbing me to death! I’m Gabe, by the way.”
Analogous to calling a truce on a bloody battlefield, he proffered a handshake. Brief as the interlude may have been for me to reciprocate an introduction, the warmth and might of his clutch felt like the laying on of hands to incite a primeval, Pentecostal uprising deep from within. Sing Gabe’s praises to the skies! Long, lean fingers coveted my hand in a grasp sending telepathic shock waves via my cutaneous receptors. Bare-handed bandying put a hold on flesh rough to the touch on its posterior surface and smoothly callused on the palm.
The second tier of ripples emanating from this out-of-body experience intensified from a bemused grin overlaid during the shake. In the aftermath, the eyes had it! Heavy-lidded browns exercised their optimal, optical power of illusion to undress their subject in effigy by leaving nothing unaddressed. The last vestiges of reserve and resolve dissolved under his scrutiny, affecting my voice to falter in a falsetto, audibly foreign to my own ears, dubbed as an unnaturally, high-pitched wail of a banshee. “Your hide was saved today on account of an employee prone to severe allergic reactions from bee stings keeps her spare EpiPen in the fridge.”
Ashe grabbed one of those paisley honker hankies the size of a bandanna from his back pocket and wiped sweat off his brow, conceding relief his kid brother wasn’t a gonner from fumbling with his own EpiPen and dropping it on the weed-infested ground, nowhere to be found. He helped his brother up on his feet, resolute in driving him posthaste to Landmark Emergency in Woonsocket for follow up medical care in case the dosage wasn’t enough to reverse his allergic reaction. “Second close call, hey, bro? Maybe now you’ll consider those
allergy shots.”
Woozy from a prolapsed adrenalin rush, I collapsed onto the swivel chair’s hard- knocked surface to recuperate and gather my wits before collecting desk debris scattered in every direction. A blade named Gabe tarried a fleeting moment by the open door, the gleam in his brooding browns once again ascertaining the pull of our animal magnetism. “Tell that lady I owe her one.”
Mon Dieu! Ephemeral traces of Gabe Tremont lingered after he disappeared from view. The seat radiated his body heat. The signature muskiness of his perspiration hovered as an aphrodisiacal cloud nine committed to my olfactory memory. Intoxicated by his pheromones, I closed my eyes to siphon his image in the residue of energy he’d left behind, envisioning his shaggy locks heavily dispersed with gray. His face shadowed in stubble, chiseled lean, browbeaten to a leathery tan by the relentless assault of the elements; lines permanently etched from having passed the focal point of fifty—my judgment call. His visage, a passageway to reach his soul, entreated me to stroke his cheek and trail my index finger along his lips to silence them in readiness for a kiss.
The sexual tension which certainly would have erupted in erotic spasms subsided out of sheer necessity for me to take leave of my senses and leap from my chair to find Blanche, hereby rendered defenseless against a venomous mortal enemy without her antidote.
By the time twilight’s dark shadows encroached, Jacasseuse pollinated the air with gossip about her heroic action as a silent benefactor. The prattle even permeated the sheltered restoration room by ricochet. Bridgie Doyenne, who ran into Blanche on her way back from squatting over the lone porcelain throne inside the tight quarters of our unisex lavatory, smoked Marc out of hiding in the restoration room. Eager for the scoop from a primary source, he hurried back to our office where he discovered me crawling on all fours gathering debris strewn helter-skelter.
Poor choice of words perhaps, but, stooping to my level, he crawled alongside me, shoulder to shoulder, helping to reclaim sundries while ingesting the perilous facts. Peering into his eyes, magnified by the lenses of tortoise shell rims, the placidity of those ocean blues induced me to buckle under and surrender tears which gave way to convulsive sobs. He put his arms around me, lending a shoulder to cushion my distress. When the tide ebbed, he dried my tears with his handkerchief, and led me to my chair where I collapsed like a ragdoll.
At Marc’s insistence, I sipped a glass of orange juice he’d poured. Too weak to refuse his
ultimatum, I let him drive me home.
Faster than a yellow jacket’s flight in search of another poor sap, news of the rescue had spread throughout Beauchemins by the time Marc deposited me curbside in front of the Marchands’ abode. Dragging my hindquarters up the porch stairs in an altered state, Yolande opened her door, stifling a gasp at my expense. She thwarted my hasty retreat to crash by redirecting me to have dinner with her and Norm, then admonishing me to get to bed soon afterward. “Sacre bleu de Tabarnak! Some reaction you had!”


Uncaged Review: This was a hard book for me to really get into and enjoy. Although the book is really well written with engaging characters and storyline, the word play, the puns, and the descriptions were very distracting for me and disrupted the flow of the story. The Canadian-French connection in the book is a bit lost on me – so that is a connection I never made. This is also written in the first person narrative and switches between the main characters – which worked fine, but within those narratives, it almost felt like it would switch to second person for a paragraph or so. Intelligent writing? Yes. But for me, it was like a roast that was left in the oven just a few minutes too long. But once you get used to the writing style, you’ll find an original and engaging story that leaps over its own hurdles.

With all that said, if you can get beyond those aspects, you’ll find a very original storyline with strong women and life in this small town. Between saving the local mill and the quiche bake-off, you will find friendship, betrayal and skeletons in closets with mysteries you are eager to solve. Reviewed by Cyrene

4 1/2 Stars

Uncaged Review – A Tale of a Rough Diamond by P.J. Mann with Excerpt

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A Tale of a Rough Diamond
P.J. Mann
Suspense

Not all that glitters is diamond; sometimes it is only glass. But even its sharp edges will never hurt you like family.
Stephan is living a life every teenager would envy. Son of a wealthy businessman, he lives carefree and carelessly. However, nothing is as it seems, and his perfect life is doomed; it has been since before he was even born. Days thrill-seeking, nights lock-picking; it’s all just about to fall apart.
His older brother has uncovered a secret. For all their years together, Roger has envied Stephan’s life, his success, the attention he has from their father, but now Roger can wait no longer; this is the moment, the moment he can hurt Stephan the most, when he can turn Stephan’s choices against him, tear apart everything he cherishes, and steal away his future.
With secrecy and the resources of the Russian Mafia on his side, the older Mills brother effortlessly brings Stephan’s world down around him, a single tip-off to the police burying him under the ruins of his former life.
After a year behind bars, Stephan seems to have no hope, no future. Cut off even from the rest of his family, can he reclaim his life and freedom, or will he sink still lower? Will his years of petty crime damn him, or will they be enough to help him fight back?
And will he have to do it alone?

Excerpt

1. STEPHAN MILLS

The hall was immersed in darkness, with only the buzzing sound of the air-conditioning system and his heartbeat breaking the silence. He sneaked from a secondary road to the basement where, according to the information he could gather about the security system of the building, no surveillance cameras were installed.
He studied the blueprints in detail. Every single corner, from the basement to the parking hall, and from the emergency stairs to the floor corridor, was taken into account. However, he felt uncomfortably nervous, as he was rightly aware that surprises were not to be underestimated; flats in residential areas were well-watched by surveillance cameras. And for a reason, he thought, smiling.
He took a deep breath and covered his face whilst walking along the shadow zones of the cameras in the parking hall, towards the emergency stairs. He opened the door to the stairwell and started to climb.
His target was the fifth floor. If the information he’d got from J. was right, at Flat number 306 he should find an empty apartment. Empty of the owner, and soon empty of all the things he would be stealing from there. He felt the adrenaline rush streaming inside his body.
Third floor. He stopped and took another deep breath, allowing his heart to regain the pace.
Fourth floor. He was almost there. He felt his mouth dry.
Fifth floor. He remained still for a moment to regain his breath. Then he opened the door leading out to the corridor. It would remain in darkness for a few minutes, just enough time for him to get inside the apartment.
He walked to his target, silent as the shadows, unseen and unheard by the other inhabitants of the floor, and finally to Flat 306. His daily El Dorado.
He carefully examined the lock of the door and shook his head. The further technology advances, the easier it gets, he thought happily, singing in his mind.
He was a burglar and a fairly skilled one, too. Well, surely skilled, but lucky… not quite. His misfortune put him in jail on a regular basis.
There were times, in the past, when he had never thought this would become his life; and, if he had to be honest, he didn’t much enjoy it. He wanted to have an honest and steady job, to make a life. He wanted to be like all the people he robbed… Normal.
Once, when he was still a kid, he used to introduce himself to other people’s apartments just for the sake of it. Then, later, it became a necessity, the only way to survive for various reasons; all aliens from his real will. But, perhaps it was what he truly deserved, and he should have stopped thinking of himself as a victim? He shook his head.
Everything started the day he was born, the day that he, sometimes, regretted the most. For, from that day on, he had to learn that the person he yearned to call Mom was not willing to be his mother at all, but rather his brother’s Mom.
He was born into a fairly rich family as Stephan Mills. His father, Jonathan Mills, was in the timber business and co-owned, with his brothers, a well-known family firm that exported raw material all over the States.
Jonathan was aware of the difficult relationship between his wife and their son, so he tried as much as possible to compensate, with his attentions, the lack of motherly love his son should have received from her. However, that was not enough for Stephan; he yearned desperately for his mother’s love, the same love that was reserved exclusively for his brother.
Her behavior didn’t fit with those of the other mothers of the kids at school, and Stephan felt jealous of them all. His older brother, Roger, didn’t seem to have a lot of sympathy towards him, but mostly he thought it was just because of the difference in age. Roger was five years older than Stephan, so they didn’t have many opportunities to share the same interests.
They were, moreover, decidedly different in character as in aspect. Stephan was shorter but strong-built, dark-haired and brown-eyed. His skin was a healthy tanned brown, all year round. Roger, on the other hand, was extremely thin and delicate. His pale skin gave him a sort of melancholic, peaky look that raised, more than once, the concern of his parents.
Even though he was surrounded by the love of both his mom and dad, Roger always felt jealous of Stephan. He felt that his younger brother’s presence took away from him part of his father’s affection that, otherwise, would have been destined for him.
For this reason, Roger devoted his life to a single purpose: to destroy the image of Stephan in front of his father’s eyes, and so reclaim what was originally meant to be intended only for him. He didn’t know how he would achieve his goal, but he was sure that, sooner or later, he would find the way.
Years passed by and, even from elementary school, one could have probably forecasted the kind of characters the two brothers would have developed when they reached adulthood. Roger was an obedient and calm boy; he would get only the best grades at school so as to make his parents proud of him. Stephan, on the other hand, was more interested in looking for trouble rather than studying; being averse to any kind of rule or regulation, he often ended up in detention.
“Look at yourself, Stephan,” his father said as he picked him up from the umpteenth detention. “What can I do to make you understand that rules are made to be followed? That they are not made only for people like your brother? Why can’t you be more like him?”
“I’m sorry, Dad. But this time it was not my fault, honest,” Stephan replied, trying to explain the reason why he always seemed to end up in trouble. He knew already that, this time, he wouldn’t be able to escape the punishment waiting for him.
“Oh, so you are going to tell me that it wasn’t you who was caught damaging the rector’s car?” his father asked impatiently, although curious to see what kind of excuse his son would come up with this time.
“Yes, but you see… they put me in…” Stephan tried to explain, being sure that his fate was already decided.
“I see,” his father said. “They must have forced you, so you couldn’t escape. Then, as soon as the guard saw you, your friends untied you, so that you could get all the blame. Isn’t that so?”
“No, but…” Stephan didn’t quite know how to explain to his dad that, if he had refused, he would have been considered a loser.
“Then everything is clear, and you are grounded… for a month,” his father replied seriously.
“A month? Oh man!” said Stephan, upset.
He felt terribly annoyed about the punishment. However, he knew that, somehow, he deserved it.
It was like in that book he was reading; he didn’t get the meaning before, but now it was clear. What was the title? He tried to remember. At, that was it! Crime and Punishment, or something like that.
He realized how stupid he had been, to follow what his friends told him to do; he must have looked like an idiot. And, at that moment, whatever looked cool before, became suddenly foolish. They just played him at their whim; they knew he didn’t like to be compared to his brother, that he would have done anything so as not to be considered a loser.
“I’m sorry, Dad,” he said, turning his head down. “You’re right, I should have thought of the consequences.”
“Apologizing is not actually fixing things up, you know,” said Roger smugly, overhearing the conversation. “You have to learn how to behave in a civilized society.”
“Oh, shut up, you!” Stephan replied. He already felt stupid enough, without him to rub it in.
“Stephan! You are not allowed to speak to your brother like that, especially when he is right. Apologize immediately to him,” his father said, raising the tone of his voice.
“I didn’t mean to be rude to you,” said Stephan. “I was just feeling upset.” He turned his face to his brother, who was sitting in the back seat of the car.
Roger smiled victoriously. “Apologies accepted. But you should learn to understand the difference between right and wrong, or soon you will find yourself in bigger trouble,” he replied.

That wouldn’t have been the first, nor the last, time that Stephan was caught doing something wrong. School was mostly too boring for his lively character, and he was sure that the teachers couldn’t understand him. So, the only way to escape the boredom was to hang around, during the recess and after school, with his friends, who shared the same problem; they wanted more than to sit on a chair for hours learning something about grammar, maths and uninteresting things like that.
The event, which started up the definitive rupture between him and his family, took place one summer’s night. Everyone was sleeping at home, when the telephone rang.
Jonathan Mills reached for the bedside table and finally got the phone.
“Hello…?” he answered, almost whispering, looking at his wife sleeping peacefully at his side.
“Mr. Jonathan Mills?” a voice asked.
“Yes, that’s me… Who’s there?” he asked, standing up from bed and walking out of the room.
“This is Officer O’Connell. We have arrested your son, Stephan Mills, as he broke into an apartment with the intention to rob it. He should have called you himself, but we can’t calm him down. I guess he is pretty scared. Anyway, he is in our custody and soon will be debriefed. You might want to come and take him home, but he will have to face trial.”
Jonathan simply stared into the phone. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing.
“In my opinion,” continued the police officer, “since this is the first time he has done anything like this, he won’t be judged severely… probably he will be set a house arrest, or be given over to the social services, particularly if you can afford a good lawyer. I think that you need to have a serious talk with him.”
Jonathan thought that perhaps he was just dreaming. “Sorry,” he said. “I didn’t understand. You are saying that my son is a burglar and he might go to jail?” He tried to stay calm and to comprehend what was happening.
“I do mean exactly that, Sir,” said O’Connell, lowering the tone of his voice. “I’m sorry; this must be a shock for you.”
“No, well… Yes, I mean… Sure, I will come as soon as I can. Thank you, Officer,” Jonathan replied, hanging up the phone.
He couldn’t believe his ears; why did that boy have to behave like that? What had he done wrong in educating him? His only thoughts as he got dressed were to collect him from the police station.
He was almost at the door when Roger switched on the light. Jonathan looked at him in surprise, like a child who was caught stealing from the candy jar.
“Where are you going, Dad? You look like a thief,” Roger asked, smiling.
“Shh,” whispered Jonathan. “I need to get your brother from the police station. It seems he was caught burglaring a private apartment.”
“He did what?” replied Roger loudly.
“Silence!” hissed Jonathan. “Don’t wake up your mother. Come on, come with me,” and he pushed him out of the door.
“Hey, let me get dressed first,” protested Roger. “I can’t go in pajamas.”
“Okay, but hurry up,” said his father, wiping his forehead with his hand.

“So, what are you going to do?” Roger asked as they were driving to the police station.
“I don’t know,” replied his father. “I honestly have no idea what is going on in your brother’s head, sometimes. He is a sweet and kind boy, but when he comes up against something exciting, his brain stops working. Plus, he is so easily influenced by those friends of his. They are just abusing his ingenuity, to make him do whatever they want.”
“I understand it is none of my business,” said Roger. “But, in my opinion, you should be firm with him, Dad, and perhaps take some drastic decisions. As long as he knows you will unfailingly be there, to cover for his mistakes, he will never learn to be a responsible man, and he will always be at the mercy of people who will use him. Today it’s a robbery, tomorrow you won’t know what it might be.”
“Hmm, I don’t know,” said Jonathan. “Maybe you’re right. But, in my heart, I can’t help but take care of him.”
“But don’t you understand?” replied Roger. “It is just by taking too much care of him, as you say, that you are letting him down. How can he learn if you don’t give him a lesson to remember? What will happen when you won’t be there to help him? You won’t be around forever; you can’t watch over him perpetually. He has to learn how to walk on his own two legs.”
His father remained silent, thinking about what Roger had said, and he had to admit that maybe that was his mistake. He had covered up for Stephan’s mistakes too often, and never let him grow up to face his responsibilities. Roger was right; he knew it. Even if it was difficult, he decided that Stephan would have to take it like a man.
They eventually arrived at the police station. Inside, it was quiet, and the neon lights made the place look more like an old dungeon.
Jonathan walked up to the information desk.
“Good evening,” he said. “Officer O’Connell called me. You have arrested my son, Stephan Mills. May I see him?”
The police officer looked at him and smiled. “Sure, come with me,” he replied. “We finally managed to calm the boy down.” He led them through a corridor and to the room where Stephan was being kept.
As they walked in, Stephan stood up and ran to hug his father. “Dad, please,” he whispered, sobbing desperately. “I’m so scared.”
Jonathan had never seen his son in such a state before, and felt dreadfully sorry for him. However, when he glanced at Roger, he remembered that this time he had to be firmer, for Stephan’s sake.
Jonathan parted from him and slapped him. “You should truly feel ashamed,” he shouted angrily, “just as I am right now. What was the big idea of robbing an apartment? As if you don’t have everything you desire. We can afford to grant you whatever wish you might have. What’s your excuse now? You are eighteen years old, Stephan. You should be able to recognize right from wrong.”
Stephan remained silent. He was dumbfounded by his father’s response, but he knew he was right. He had no reason to act the way he did, apart from the boredom and the need to feel the adrenaline rush.
“Dad…” he said, confused.
“No, this time you are going to listen to me,” his father interrupted. “I don’t want you to say a word. You have gone way too far this time, Stephan, and you are going to pay for it right now.”
Jonathan looked at his son for a moment before continuing. “I am not going to pay to have you released tonight. You will wait in jail for the trial,” he said severely. “Neither am I going to pay for a lawyer to get you out of this mess. You put yourself into this, and you are going to get yourself out and pay the consequences of your stupidity. Maybe then you will learn a valuable lesson.”
Stephan stared at his father in disbelief. “Dad… you can’t leave me here,” he said. “Please, I can explain…”
“What are you going to explain?” replied his father. “I don’t want to hear another word from you. I only hope that you will finally learn to respect the law and act like a civilized adult. I’ll see you when you get out of jail. I expect you to use this time to reflect on your actions and to think about your behavior in the future.” With that, Jonathan turned away to walk out of the room.
“Dad, please, I’d like to exchange some words with my brother,” said Roger. “Can I have some time alone with him?” He looked at his father and then at the police officer.
“I’ll be in the car waiting for you,” Jonathan said to Roger as he exited the room, without looking back.
“Not more than five minutes,” the officer said, closing the door behind him.
When they were finally left alone, Stephan turned his gaze away from the door, and the inquisitorial eyes of Roger, and focused his attention on a hole in the wall.
“So, Stephan, my dear brother…” began Roger sarcastically.
Stephan continued to stare at that hole in the wall. He wished he were small enough to be able to crawl in there and disappear from the world, to be far from his brother, from his mistakes, and from the unbearable feeling of shame.
“Now it is time for you to pay for having intruded in my life,” Roger continued. Stephan looked at him, not quite getting the meaning of what he was saying.
“What do you mean?” he asked, surprised.
“I’ve finally got you exactly where I wanted you,” replied Roger. “Ever since you were born, you have been stealing the attention of Dad away from me. You have constantly been the special one to him, the one to be protected from everything. Instead, I was always the last in line. Now things are going to change. It wasn’t easy to convince Dad to leave you here, for he was determined to bring you home, and have a serious talk with you.”
Roger paused and looked at his brother coldly.
“He would have paid for the best lawyer money could buy,” he went on. “It was by luck that I caught him as he was going out of the house. I convinced him that the only way to help you would be to leave you here. Now that you are going to be far away for quite some time, I will have time to convince him to cast you away from our family. You have brought shame on all of us. You have ruined the good name of the entire family! How could you?”
Stephan looked at his brother in shock. He didn’t know what to say.
“Well, brother,” said Roger, “I guess my time is ticking away. I will have to leave you soon.”
“Roger,” replied Stephan, “please, what is going on? Why are you doing this to me?” He was in tears.
“Because I hate you,” spat Roger. “You don’t deserve to be part of our family.”
“This cannot happen,” said Stephan, confused. “It must be a dream, but…” He was not quite sure what to say.
“But what?” replied Roger. “You still don’t get it. Are you seriously that stupid? Look at yourself; do you actually think that, after this scandal, Dad will welcome you back into our family as if nothing has happened? I will make sure there is no place left for you there.”
Stephan knew that his brother was somehow right; he took for granted too many things in his life, and now he had probably lost everything he’d had – his family, his home. Everything was gone, because of his stupidity. He then wondered what would happen if the police found out it was not the first robbery in which he’d participated.
He began to panic. He had no idea what was going to happen to him from that day on. However, there was one thing he did know for sure, and that was that he was alone.
Stephan wondered how much time he would have to spend in jail, and what would happen to him there. Could he still hope for house arrest instead?
“Please Roger, don’t destroy my life,” he begged. “What do you want from me? What should I do?”
“I want you out of my life,” replied Roger angrily, “and there’s nothing you can do about it. Now I’ll return home. Good night and sweet dreams, brother.” He laughed as he walked out from the room, leaving Stephan alone.
Stephan sat on the bench, without any strength left in his body. He wanted to rewind all his life and rewrite it from the beginning, deleting all the moments he had disappointed his father, all the times he’d let himself be misguided by his so-called friends just to be “cool”. Thinking about it, at that moment the only word that came into his mind was “loser”. He wanted so badly to be back in his own home, in his bed, where he could finally feel safe.


Uncaged Review

A nicely done suspense, that keeps you guessing. For me, this book started a tad too slow and didn’t really catch me very quickly, but don’t be put off by that – it does become much more intriguing and engaging. As a teenager, Stephan has a good life, but he’s always pushing the boundaries. Finally, he ends up in prison, and his father refuses to bail him out this time, mainly because his brother convinces his father that Stephan needs to learn his lessons. Heartbreaking for both Stephan and his father.

The very long first chapter deals mostly with Stephan in jail and how he comes to terms with his life. There is a nice twist to the story that I did guess in part, but the author did a good job getting me to feel empathy for Stephan, and although he was on the wrong path and did deserve some of his punishment, you’ll want to seek revenge of your own on his brother.

Some of the wording is a bit stiff, but all in all, it was an enjoyable read. Reviewed by Cyrene

4 Stars

Uncaged Review – I Am Terry Walker by Skye Andrews

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I Am Terry Walker
Skye Andrews
Horror/Fiction/Serial Killer

I Am Terry Walker is about a serial killer who uses torture methods to kill his victims. For two decades, he remained anonymous. This is his story.

Uncaged Review: This book reads as a journal with date by date accounts of his victims, and it jumps into the thoughts of a serial killer, his thoughts and his own warped reasoning on the different ways he kills his victims. This book does not hold back, and it’s not recommended for the squeamish. It’s one of those books you don’t really want to read, but you can’t put it down either. I don’t think I’ll even ask where the author got their information on some of the torture methods, as there were quite a few I never heard of before. This isn’t a long book – but it’s a sick look into the mind of a very sick man. Reviewed by Cyrene

5 Stars

Uncaged Review – The Reluctant Wife by Caroline Warfield

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The Reluctant Wife
Caroline Warfield
Historical Regency

Captain Fred Wheatly’s comfortable life on the fringes of Bengal comes crashing down around him when his mistress dies, leaving him with two children he never expected to have to raise. When he chooses justice over army regulations, he’s forced to resign his position, leaving him with no way to support his unexpected family. He’s already had enough failures in his life. The last thing he needs is an attractive, interfering woman bedeviling his steps, reminding him of his duties…

Uncaged Review: The first page starts with a lot of action we are introduced to Fred who learns he has two daughters to care for now. As their mother has suddenly died. A witness to this is Claire, who was hoping to speak to her brother Philip who is Fred’s Major in the army. Claire and Fred find themselves thrown into traveling together, which will hold many problems for them both. I really enjoyed this book it was filled with alot of action and suspense. Enough to keep the readers on their toes. I’m looking forward to reading the next book by this author. Reviewed by Jennifer

4 Stars