Sixth Cycle – #Birthday #Dreams #FreeBook

Image by Pexels from Pixabay

By Lisabet Sarai

Today, the 31^st of January, is my birthday – an occasion for joy and for reflection. I’m grateful to have made it through another year with health, relationships, finances and sanity intact. When you’re as old as I am, you become acutely aware of just how fragile and how precious life is. Every day is a gift – the maxim might be a cliché, but it’s still true.

Many people I’ve loved, people who were dear companions on my life’s journey, have passed on. I try not to mourn, reminding myself that change is the only constant in the universe and that holding on too tightly is a recipe for suffering. When we look back over our lives, we can choose to focus on what was lost or on the new challenges, adventures and joys that each successive season brings.

Aging is not easy. When your vision blurs, your joints ache or your memory goes blank, it’s tempting to complain or to sink into depression, contemplating the specter of diminishing capabilities. Sometimes I succumb to that temptation.

Then I remember all the wonders my life has provided over the years. I can truly say that most of my life dreams have come true. I’ve had a stimulating and varied career that allowed me contribute to society while earning enough to comfortably support myself. I’ve enjoyed amazing erotic adventures yet ended up married to a sensitive, compassionate, intelligent and funny man who makes every day a pleasure. As a child, I fantasized about traveling the world; as an adult, I’ve visited dozens of countries and now live in one of the most fascinating places on the planet. Aside from my “real world” job, I’ve had the opportunity to be Lisabet Sarai, writing stories to entertain and perhaps challenge my readers and belonging to a community of beloved colleagues who share their own creative visions.

Today’s a specially auspicious birthday, according to Asian tradition. It is my Sixth Cycle anniversary. In the west, we tend to segment our lives by decades: you’re in your twenties, your fifties, your seventies, and so on. In China and Southeast Asia, they count in twelves, according to the eastern Zodiac. So today, having reached the venerable age of seventy-two, I have complete six cycles of twelve years.

The people in my adopted country would celebrate a Sixth Cycle anniversary by visiting temples or giving to charity. If you’d like to help me mark this day of good fortune, I invite you to visit my Charity Sunday post from a few days ago and leave a comment. I will make a donation to my chosen cause for every comment I receive.

In addition, I have a birthday gift for you. For a limited time, you can get a copy of my paranormal romance The Eyes of Bast absolutely free. Just go to Smashwords (https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1390042) and use this coupon code: FV59Z

 

This offer expires on Valentine’s Day, so don’t wait to claim your free book.

I’m full of joy and gratitude on my birthday. I’d like you to be, too.

HARD AS A ROCK COWBOY by Lexi Post has released!

 

Hard as a Rock Cowboy 

(Rocky Road Ranch: Book 2) 

by Lexi Post

She’s the only thing standing in the way of the life he’s always wanted…

Brody Dunn is anxious to start his training as a wildlife manager and begin his new career away from Rocky Road Ranch. His father has agreed to release him from his promise to work on the ranch if he can convince the neighbors to sell their land.

When he discovers that the granddaughter of the elderly couple who owned the land has inherited it, and better yet, has lived in the city her entire life never knowing the land existed, he’s sure it will be easy getting her to sell.

Hannah Kingsley is shocked yet thrilled to discover she owns land in Four Peaks. Though it’s nothing but desert and an old casita, it’s all hers. Besides, it even comes with a knowledgeable and handsome neighbor! What could be better?

It doesn’t take long for her to realize Brody wants her to sell right away, yet the more she learns about her property, the town, and him, the more she knows this is the place for her. And just maybe, Brody’s the man for her as well. But can she get him to see what’s right in front of his nose, or will his one-track mind be his downfall?

Amazon | Amazon UK | Amazon AU | 

Amazon CA  and in KU

Excerpt:

Brody looked to where Hannah pointed briefly before grabbing his waist again. “Yes.” He adjusted their course a bit and brought them within fifty feet of the building before halting.

“Oh, I can’t wait to see this!”

At Hannah’s exclamation, alarm bells went off. He got off the ATV and before he could say anything, she’d jumped off, only to stumble a bit. He grabbed her arm to help her regain her balance.

“Thank you. I didn’t realize my equilibrium was so delicate.”

He let go when she lifted her hands up to take off the helmet. She set it on the machine before turning to look at the adobe building barely discernible from the cacti and Goat’s Beard vines growing over it and against it.

“If it wasn’t so flat out here, I would have never noticed this. I wonder if it was here even before my grandparents bought the land.”

“My guess is it’s been here at least sixty years.” He’d hoped that would make her shy away, but that wasn’t her reaction at all. In fact, her eyes widened with glee.

“Wow. That’s just amazing.” With that, she started forward.

Quickly, he grabbed her arm. “Whoa there, where you going?”

“I’m going inside, of course.”

He planted his feet, still not letting go. “I wouldn’t suggest it. That building has been abandoned to the desert. That means nature could have taken it over including animals, reptiles, and insects.”

She blinked as if considering that for the first time. “Would any of them be dangerous. I mean, beside tarantulas. I do know they live out here.”

He called on his patience, of which he wasn’t known for. She was simply ignorant of the dangers of the Sonoran Desert. He let go of her arm and stepped between her and the building to face her. He wanted her to know how serious he was. “Yes, there could be tarantulas, but also rattlesnakes, raccoons, or even javelinas, not to mention the walls could cave in.”

She eyed the building, hopefully seeing what he saw. “I didn’t realize. I guess we’ll have to investigate carefully.”

As she stepped around him, he stood in shock for a moment before his senses caught on that he needed to protect her. Spinning around, he strode up next to her. “I wouldn’t advise going inside.”

She glanced at him but kept her focus on the building. “Thank you. I still want to see it.”

Beyond picking her up and carrying her back to the ATV, there was nothing he could do. It was her land and her old casita. Still, he wouldn’t let her get hurt. Luckily, she started by walking around the structure. She stopped and pointed away from it to a pile of rotted wood on the ground. “Was that the shed?”

“Yes. There was more wood, but a lot has rotted back into the ground.”

She didn’t respond, instead continuing her walk around the building. Finally, she stopped at the front door, which was made of thick ironwood being held on by rusty hinges. “It’s beautiful.”

He frowned, not sure he heard her right. “Did you say it’s beautiful?”

She pulled out her phone and took a picture. “Yes, the way nature has wrapped its arms around this manmade structure as if to protect it. Don’t you think it’s poignant?”

Staring at the vine covered walls and a mesquite that towered over the roof, he tried to see what she saw. But he couldn’t. “It definitely makes a statement…to be careful.”

She shook her head at him before moving forward toward the door.

His hand shot out before he could take it back, and she halted. “Is something wrong.”

“Just go slow. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

Her warm brown gaze softened. “I promise, I’ll be careful.”

Nodding, he curled his fingers into fists as she pushed a few vines aside, ducked beneath them, and opened the door.

About Lexi:

Lexi Post is a New York Times and USA Today best-selling author of romance inspired by the classics. She spent years in higher education taking and teaching courses about the classical literature she loved. From Edgar Allan Poe's short story “The Masque of the Red Death” to Tolstoy’s War and Peace, she's read, studied, and taught wonderful classics.

But Lexi's first love is romance novels so she married her two first loves, romance and the classics. Whether it’s sizzling cowboys, dashing dukes, hot immortals, or hunks from out of this world, Lexi provides a sensuous experience with a “whole lotta story.”

Lexi is living her own happily ever after with her husband and her two cats in Florida. She makes her own ice cream every weekend, loves bright colors, and you’ll never see her without a hat.

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Free Regency Recipe: Making Lemonade

Ah, lemonade. The ultimate citrusy concoction that screams summer, refreshment, and – oddly enough – scurvy prevention. 

My own backyard tree recently decided to throw a citrus fiesta, leaving me with enough lemons to open a lemonade stand that could rival a Georgian naval fleet's supply. It’s a good reminder that while we now know lemons are vitamin C-packed powerhouses, people back in the day just thought, “Hey, this tastes nice in tea.”

But let’s rewind to the glory days of the British Empire – well before the Regency era, British sailors earned the nickname “limeys” as they were served a mandatory serve of citrus to stave off scurvy while at sea, though you could argue “lemon lads” would’ve been equally appropriate, because limes weren't always plentiful.

Keeping the navy healthy fell just as often to the humble lemon. After all, the empire wasn’t going to defend itself, and no one wanted to fight pirates with swollen gums and the energy of a soggy crumpet. Enter lemons, the unsung heroes of naval health.

Beyond their life-saving properties, lemons have always been culinary rockstars. From zesty liqueurs to tangy cakes, they’ve brought zing to everything from dessert tables to soap dishes. Yes, soap. Imagine scrubbing your Regency-era hands with a bar of lemon-scented soap after a long day of gossiping about Mr Darcy. Bliss.

As a drink, lemonade was a Regency-era showstopper, a homemade marvel crafted without modern luxuries like refrigeration or TikTok cocktail tutorials. Yet, it still managed to dazzle. Below is a recipe straight out of the 1800s, with a modern twist to make it sparkle like an Austen heroine at her first ball.

I grew up with a lemonade and rosewater recipe, but here’s one straight from the Regency era – remembering they had nothing to keep it cool but ice, snow, or freezing cold river water (there’s a reason so many drinks in the past were fermented).

Regency Lemonade:

Ingredients:

• 1 ounce (30g) lemon juice
• 2 ounces (60g) sparkling water
• 2 ounces (60g) orgeat
• Lemon wheel for garnish

Directions:

• Combine lemon juice and orgeat in a highball glass.
• Top with still water and stir. Use sparkling water to modernise this if you wish.
• Garnish with lemon wheel.

More ways to use up your lemons:

The magic of citrus extends to more than tea and scurvy. There’s also flavouring for the following:

• Liqueurs

• Ice creams

• Cordials

• Scones

• Cakes – especially lemon sponge

• Biscuits

• Sweets

• Cosmetics

• Soaps

…and of course, homemade lemonade.

Soaps and candles were more usually homemade, and scented with what grew locally, so the lavender wax candles in Always a Princess were made by the hero's mother (granted, she was a duchess). Later on, his Romany wife’s family create spruce-scented wax to celebrate a Christmas wedding in A Holiday Season at Clifton Hall.

Rock Your Hippie Soul —a Rocking Romance

I loved the new film A Complete Unknown.It begins when Dylan comes to New York to see Woody Guthrie, meets Pete Seager, and writes many of the songs he's most famous far, like Blowing In The Wind. The movie climaxes with the  moment at 1995 Newport Folk festival when Dylan goes electric. 

If you enjoyed the film as much as I did, (I saw it twice during the holidays) uou might be hungry for more 60s nostalgia. More about the background music to that era— folk, rock, blues rock. And more of the 60s youth culture—peace, love, unity, and the belief that the hippies and flower children of the 60s could change the world. 

So, if you are: 

Craving Epic Romance, 60s Folk Vibes, and Electric Highs—ROCK YOUR HIPPIE SOUL

My brand new release.

ROCK YOUR HIPPIE SOUL

Is a Duet of Adventure and love 

A ticket to Woodstock ’69, with a pair of cool couples who feel the music in their soul and discover their soul mates.

The Please Man and the Flowerchild

In 1969, Daisy, fresh out of foster care, crosses paths with Shiloh—a magnetic, sensual, free-wheeling, guitar-strumming, gorgeous man.

Together, they’ll discover if wild moments of joy… can lead to forever love?

Back To the One I Love

In beads and bell bottoms, Cash climbs onto Keith’s motorcycle and hangs on. Fifty-so years later, her free-spirited dreamer is a couch potato. Cash begins to wonder if she climbed onto the wrong bike.

Will a 1960 time-traveling van, on a trip to Woodstock '69, where they first met, lead them to the harmony they once shared? Or have they grown so out of tune…they have to go solo?

In ebook and print, check it out now.

Here is more 60s fun:

Woodstock Music & Art Festival,

Click to—1969, Bill Eppridge (From the LIFE Photo Collection)

Warning—one photo is a tasteful, (not frontal) shot of men bathing nude

I Found My Love at the Woodstock Festival!

Click to go to—the romance comic book —Falling in Love #118 (October 1970).

Fourteen months after the event, DC published this story (with art by Murphy Anderson) about two college students, Sally and Robin and their experiences at the festival.

Change is in the Air!

January is a time of renewal and new beginnings. Many people make resolutions that usually fall away within a few weeks. I know I’ve done it. The problem isn’t the resolutions but trying to make huge changes. Face it, we all love routines, me more than most. Change is not my friend. So, trying to make a big one right in the middle of the cold, dark winter is not going to work. To get past that, I started making small changes, nothing that would upset my routine too much but over the long year it makes a difference.

 

This year, I’m trying to simplify every area of my life. For someone who doesn’t do well with change, it’s a challenge. I’m taking one small task at a time. By the summer I hope to have gone through every closet, drawer, and cupboard. But it’s not only about getting rid of belongings I no longer use or need; it’s about simplifying my life as a whole. It’s a project, but I’m up for the task.

 

What are your resolutions this year?

 

If you’re looking for a book to read over the long, dark winter, be sure to check out my Lone Wolf Legacy series.

 

 

 

Tempting the Black Wolf

Lone Wolf Legacy, Book 3

 

The wrath of the black wolf is unleashed…in this scorching finale of New York Times bestselling author N.J. Walters’s enticingly sexy Lone Wolf Legacy series

I am an immortal predator, driven to hunt and protect the wolf packs from danger—especially rogue wolves. This destiny is my blood, my bone. My will.

There are two other lone wolves—one gray, one white—but I am the strongest. The most powerful. And we all share an enemy, who set a trap for each of us: a woman with our coloring who will draw us into danger and make our wolves howl with need.

But I won’t give in to lust or passion.

I already know the face of the woman who is my supposed bait: a stunning and powerful mage named Onyx. We’ve been circling each other, wary, fueled by deeply intense attraction and fierce distrust.

But the enemy of my enemy is my ally…for now. It’s a brief truce, laced with raw, primal hunger.

Because when this is over—if we survive—we’ll have to go head-to-head one last time.

And I never lose. 

 

 

Find Tempting the Black Wolf here:

 

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0DDJCJJG7/

Entangled Publishing: https://www.entangledpublishing.com/books/tempting-the-black-wolf

B&N: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/tempting-the-black-wolf-n-j-walters/1146192600

Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/tempting-the-black-wolf

iBooks: https://books.apple.com/us/book/tempting-the-black-wolf/id6642709646

 

 

 

 

N.J. Walters is a New York Times and USA Today bestselling author who has always been a voracious reader, and now she spends her days writing novels of her own. Vampires, werewolves, dragons, assassins, time-travelers, seductive handymen, and next-door neighbors with smoldering good looks—all vie for her attention. It’s a tough life, but someone’s got to live it.

                   

Visit me at:

Website: http://www.njwalters.com

Blog: http://www.njwalters.blogspot.com

Newsletter Sign Up: http://eepurl.com/gdblg5

Facebook Author Page: https://www.facebook.com/N.J.WaltersAuthor

X: https://x.com/njwaltersauthor

Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/NJWalters

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/author/njwalters

BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/n-j-walters

Reject Her At Your Own Risk #Steamyhistorical #whatdoesn'tkillyoumakesyour stronger

 My stories all relate to each other. The Seventh Son, book four in the Norman Conquest series has a character who was tossed out of the village as a child, to live in the caves because she had a "club" foot. That's Aednat. She's the heroine in Curse of the Healer.

 

Aednat lives by her own rules which is why she'll pay the price of abstinence to become a true Great Healer. So when her life is threatened and coming under Diarmuid's protection is her only choice, she struggles against their attraction. 

 

 

 The Warrior Kings have a similar cover but they're different than The Norman Conquest series. What do you think about authors updating their covers? Leave a comment below. Maybe I'll give a copy away :)

BUY IT HERE

The next book in The Price of Talent Series is coming...

Hey all, AK Nevermore back with you! This month I'm here to tell you that if you're a fan of spicy dystopian romance and haven't started reading the Price of Talent Series in Kindle Unlimited, now's a great time to start, because book 4, Overlord, is about to be released!

About the Series...

On an alternate earth, a cataclysm has altered a subset of the population. Talents are persecuted for their psychic and physical mutations, giving rise to two conflicting societies based upon maintaining genetic purity. And the Source, a shadowy corporate entity dependent upon the exploitation of captive Talents, is hunting them…

About the Book..

Chaos rules the city of Glynfyls.

And all Flynn Scot can do is watch. With the hill frozen in the shadow of the coming Incursion, and the commons giving into a bacchanal madness, the city’s chances of survival are dire. His hands tied by mandates, in order to do what he knows is right and give them a fighting chance, Flynn will have to risk everything by doing wrong.

Meanwhile, Kara can’t hide her declining health.

The Triam’s location remains elusive, and the window to get the treatment she needs is closing. Unwilling to give in, or idly await her fate, she hatches a daring plan to help save the city, even if it ends up destroying her politically.

Because Titus’s army is marching closer to Glynfyls, and they’re not alone.

With them comes a monster that threatens not only the city, but the entire Breaker hierarchy. As the world watches on tenterhooks, Flynn and Kara race against the clock to save their people, but there’s no guarantee they can save themselves.

Excerpt:

Mother’s consciousness slid from Victor’s, her jewel-encrusted fingers falling in a contemplative staccato against her abdomen. She lay on her chaise of tawny leather in the flickering torchlight, her sanctuary otherwise still. Beyond the arch opposite her dais, a gibbous moon filled a sky rife with stars. A distant surf crashed against the shores, and night creatures called to one another through balmy air perfumed with tropicals.

She pinched the stink of incendiaries from her nose.

Cal’s exodus of his Talents to the North was expected, though gating them directly there had been a surprise. Always such a showman. He must be quite pleased with himself. A smile ghosted across her lips, doubting he’d be as smug when he learned she’d laid plans to intercept the crafts transporting the rest of them North.

No, it was the arrival of that mercenary unit that concerned her. It was the tip of another hand at play. That would bear reflection, as would her plans for the remaining Sons. Victor and a handful of others had escaped, expending their gating stones in the process. Through the shard embedded in his brow, it had been but an afterthought to remove any suspicion they’d been borne of talent. She’d also ensured that the radiation they’d been exposed to wouldn’t kill them, though their continued existence would be less than comfortable. Deservedly so.

And once again, her time-table had been moved up.

Her hand raised to caress the amethyst shards at her brow as she sat, the small movements echoing through the vast stone chamber. Originally a temple to some long-forgotten deity, it was a fitting tableau. Shackled by the very power that would allow her to remake the world, this sprawling ramble of the sea’s washed-up bones was her wellspring. A smile curved her lips. Overlord in her own right.

Gravel crunched on the path outside, and two long shadows speared between the columns of polished coquina running the length of the room. The twins had been awaiting her summons.

They moved to the foot of the dais with a dancer’s grace, beautiful to watch, even their heart beats in sync. The charms in Elize’s braids chimed musically, Enoch’s heavier tread the beat. It had ever been so, save when Cal had come between them, and from those small cracks a fissure had grown.

Mother’s mind caressed their thoughts, amused at Enoch’s longing to wrap his fingers around her neck and squeeze. His startling blue eyes met hers, a montage of torments playing out for her behind them. He’d become inventive over the centuries. Pity he’d never get to put it into practice. Not on her, at least. She sent a jagged lance of her will through his skull.

He grimaced, hands clenching and sweat pebbling his brow. She lashed at his mind again, and his knees buckled. At his side, Elize licked her lips, murmuring something. His head whipped towards her, shoulders slumping. A trembling hand raised to caress the amethyst shard between his brows.

Mother’s smile became beatific. More than a direct link to their minds, the gemstone shards served as a clever refreshment device. Unsightly, perhaps, but effective. At his touch, pain was replaced by euphoria, any thoughts of rebellion erased.

“You will attend, Enoch,” Mother said. The satisfaction in her voice rasped against stone, sparking the dampened desire for vengeance at his core. Rogan had done her a favor in almost killing him. She never would’ve been able to slip her leash around Enoch’s neck otherwise. “Find the potentials for me.”

He tensed, and Elize put a hand on his arm, charms tinkling with the slight shake of her head. He blew out a breath and retrieved the dice from his pocket. Squatting, he cast them to the floor, his halos flaring amethyst. Once, and again. Three times.

He sat back on his heels, lips pursed. “Unchanged. If we stay the course…”

“But?”

“That tangent I warned you about.” His lush mouth was sour. “I can’t find the outcome, it ends in a void.” He spat the word like a curse.

“Is it of Cal’s making?”

“No.” He spat again. “It tastes like graveyard midden, other. I can’t explain it.”

Interesting. Mother sat back against her cushions. “Prepare to go north, it’s almost time to collect your charges.” She waved a hand, dismissing them, her consciousness riding with Enoch’s as they left…

“You need to give her less cause to watch us,” Elize said when they’d gotten outside.

Enoch snorted, pulling a crescent dagger from its sheath and flipping it around in his hand. His thoughts trembled in anticipation of visiting the stews in the lower city. Mother almost pitied the first young man he came across.

“Do you honestly think she’s not watching right now?” He glared at his sister, and Elize put her arms around his neck, kissing his lips chastely.

“It doesn’t matter. Our revenge draws nigh.”

“To what end?” He pulled from her embrace and jammed the knife back into his belt. “The potential for her to alter this reality has never wavered, but the fulfillment of our own desires is far less certain. I told you, there’s a point I see where probability stops, and that damned tangent—”

She drew him to her again. “What matter whose hand they die by, if we bring it about?”

“That’s all that matters!” He growled, ripping at the thick scar slicing across his throat.

Elize backhanded him, and he reeled from her. “Not anymore. Mother will reverse the Surge, and everything will be set right.”

“Mother.” He sneered, licking the blood from his lip. “Jane’s as batshit as her old man was, playing with things neither of them—” Elize swallowed a sob, and he narrowed his eyes. “You honestly think you’ll get Cal back. Why in God’s name—”

“I won’t need to get him back, because I hadn’t lost him yet!” She grabbed the blade from his belt and held beneath his jaw. “If you ruin this for me…”

His Adam’s apple bobbed, a hot, wet line running to drip from the ropey lesion below it. Elize held his gaze for a moment longer, then dropped the dagger and walked away.

Enoch didn’t move, watching her until she disappeared around the bend in the path, then bent to retrieve his dagger. He ran his thumb over the blade, his halos reflecting off its mirrored surface, finding the probability of Rogan’s death at his hand.

Mother felt the void as he ran up against it, and smiled.

Want more? Download the Breeder, the series prequel, for free here: https://dl.bookfunnel.com/91ffk852qo

and get your copy of Breaker here to start: https://books2read.com/BreakerOne

You can find out more about my books on my website, https://aknevermore.com/ or see what I'm up to on my sadly neglected socials:

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AK Nevermore enjoys operating heavy machinery, freebases coffee, and gives up sarcasm for Lent every year. A Jane-of-all-trades, she’s a certified chef, restores antiques, and dabbles in beekeeping when she’s not reading voraciously or running down the dream in her beat-up camo Chucks.

Unable to ignore the voices in her head, and unwilling to become medicated, she writes Science Fiction and Fantasy full time. 

AK pays the bills writing a copious amount of copy, along with a column on SFF. She belongs to numerous industry organizations, volunteers for far too many committees, teaches creative writing, and on the rare occasion, sleeps.