Holiday next week! Turkey Day. There was one year that I had to work on Thanksgiving because I was a waitress, so we had our big dinner on Friday. Just to make it special we got lobsters instead of turkey. Note to self: don't mess with tradition if you're not willing to change your tradition. Every year since we have both lobsters and turkey - yeesh!
Hey all, AK Nevermore back with you with another new release! Split, book 3 in The Price of Talent Series is live. If you're a fan of Spicy Dystopian Romance, then this is the series for you!
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…
The city of Glynfyls is burning.
And Flynn Scot is powerless to stop it. Now that his status is in question, the Assembly is calling for his head. The only thing keeping it on his shoulders is the commons rioting with the demand he be made Overlord.
Fluctuating between extremes, Kara’s talent deficiency is becoming critical.
With her body failing and Flynn at the Assembly’s mercy, Kara Scot has no choice but to take his seat and fight for her House. But clearing Flynn’s name and battering herself against the tide of public censure threatens to drag her under.
So does the wave of Humanity Purists marching toward Glynfyls.
No Talent is safe outside the city. Refugees flock to the north fleeing extermination only to find a metropolis torn by prejudice and fear. Unless Flynn and Kara can find a way to survive the machinations of the Assembly, there will be nothing standing between them and annihilation. Because even if they survive the extremists, Titus’s army is following in their wake ready to harvest whatever is left.
Excerpt:
Glynfyls was burning.
Flynn stared out the window of the Assembly Hall, overlooking the eastern spokes of the city. Beyond the wavy glass, the rising sun was a crimson smear across the smoke-streaked horizon. Below, the clamor of an angry mob rioted through the streets.
They were pissed.
How the hell a cluster fuck of this magnitude had gotten kicked off last night—he scrubbed at his face. Shit. He knew exactly how.
His hand rose and talent the color of old blood flickered between his fingers, sparking off and singeing the carpet. He scuffed it out with his boot, jaw clenching. After the past few weeks of trying to play the goddamned part, he’d fucking split when he put Riegel down and, caught in a catch twenty-fucking-two, the entire city had seen him do it.
But if he hadn’t, the boost the Breaker was rigged with would’ve blown Glynfyls to shit. Flynn sighed. Instead of the city, everything he’d worked for had gone with Riegel into the hereafter. Christ, Julia and Lord Morris must be having a fucking field day with this. Both of them would be in chambers now, smug as shit, lambasting the room with big fat I-told-you-so’s…
God, he was gonna puke. Dual-Talents couldn’t hold office, and he’d used both a Shade’s talent to phaze away the blast, and a shit ton of Breaker ability, publicly. He’d saved the city only to hand it over to Julia, and she’d pass it right on to Titus.
His eyes closed, seeing it all play out. Legally, he was screwed. The Shades were gonna abjure him from his seat on the Assembly. Lords Klein and Ketsing, the Fixer and Binder Firsts that’d pledged their line’s fealty to him, would pull their support. Then Crandall would bury him. He’s gleefully drive the last nail into Flynn’s coffin by tying him to the Sons that’d been slaughtered out on the plateau.
And as for Phyllis and Markham? Neither one of them was gonna do a fucking thing. No, check that. Markham would mop the sweat from his brow when they came at Flynn with a rope to hang him. Couple of minutes swinging, then done deal, Flynn’d be in a box and they’d be back to business as usual.
Until Titus sent in his troops and Peacekeepers harvested the lot of them.
“I wish I was a fucking twist, then I wouldn’t have to pretend…”
Of all the wishes he’d ever made, it figured that would be the one granted. God had to love fucking with him.
Kara pushed up under his arm. “We can tell them it was me—”
“No. I won’t lie about it.” They’d gone over this. If Merchant couldn’t get him off, he’d cloak them at Meddleton until the baby was born, then head west. Disappear. He’d done it before, he could do it again. He kissed the top of Kara’s head, wrapping his arms around her.
“You should try and sleep.”
She laughed, the strain of the past twenty-four hours etched across her brow. Once the adrenaline from the bout last night at the Pony had faded, Riegel’s death had triggered a cascade of memories. Each one left her more brittle than the last, and that damned talent debilitation plaguing her pregnancy was back. Add to it being locked up in this goddamned conference room without any idea of what was going on other than one hell of a shit show…
Christ. What a fucking mess.
The door opened and Merchant hustled in, looking grim. His suit was rumpled and his grey-streaked hair awry. A servant came in after him and set a coffee service and two plates of eggs on the conference table. Flynn’s stomach growled. Damn, he could go for—Kara turned to his chest, pale with nausea. Goddamn it, he needed to get her home.
“Take it away, please.”
The woman looked at him in surprise, then wet her lips, glancing at Merchant. She pulled a scrap of paper from the napkin, holding it out with trembling fingers, and flashed her colors. Thin rings of fuchsia pulsed around her irises. It was the signal Flynn and Dorian had agreed upon for when the Finder had turned something up on Crandall.
Flynn took it from her, and she bobbed a curtsy, fist to heart. Vassal to Overlord. He snorted, like that was gonna fucking happen—his temper spiked at the contents of the note, and it smoldered where he gripped it. Damn it—His anger was too close. Too easy to pull from. All this time, is that what that constant simmering rage had been? Talent just waiting to come out?
“I suggest you cloak this conversation.” Merchant frowned, tossing a newspaper onto the table. “They’re attempting to charge you with inciting the commons.”
Flynn’s jaw dropped, note forgotten. That’s not—His halos flared verdigris, cloaking them. “But they all saw—”
“A great deal of talent being used. As evidenced by that front page still and multiple reels. You haven’t developed concentric halos. By definition, a twist evidences a dual-halo, and without a second ring around your irises, you cannot be considered as such. Additionally, without confirmation from the Breaker line as to whom was doing what, any and all charges are unsubstantiated, and will be treated as libel and or slander. Now, I suggest we focus on the matter at hand.” He snapped open his briefcase.
“The matter at—are you serious?” He—there was no way—how was this not about him splitting? Was Merchant seriously getting him off on semantics? Shit, Cal had said he was good, but no one could be that good.
Get Split Here:
https://amazon.com/dp/B0D7MWDZ4H
Want more? Download the Breeder, the series prequel, for free here: https://dl.bookfunnel.com/91ffk852qo
And Destroyer, Flynn's origin story for free here:
https://dl.bookfunnel.com/982bgzz15j
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.
Have you ever noticed that what you write is not necessarily what readers read?
I find reviews very revealing. In For the Love of Jazmin, I thought I was writing about a strong man, a protector who would do anything for his wife, even if it meant going against his beliefs. Readers focused on the man's wife, telling me they were impressed by her strength, her perseverance, her search for a way to escape the evil drug lord and save her husband. Jazmin was seen as the strong character who didn't give up and kept her head up.
Throughout the story, I was told, she fought a silent but effective battle against her captor and won in the end.
Here's a look into the book...
A loving couple are kidnapped by a schizophrenic criminal who is out to play off one against the other. What must they give up to get free?
Nine years ago, Jazmin brought a Colombian drug lord to justice. His son, Raoul, finds out where she lives and kidnaps her husband, Ethan, knowing she won't refuse his invitation. As Jazmin enters Raoul's lair, she doesn't know if she can save her husband and herself, or if they will both die trying to escape the schizophrenic criminal who is determined to play one off against the other.
Excerpt
Raoul had refrained from showing Ethan around before, and the guests were eager to follow him down into the dungeon. Due to the mass of people standing around Raoul and talking to him, he couldn’t keep her from going to Ethan’s cell quick enough and she pretended to not have heard his command.
Jazmin held fast to the bars. “He’s much better prepared,” she told Ethan, who was already dressed to fight. The gloves hung outside the cell door. “He’ll go for you full blazes. A second knock out would ruin much of Joaquin’s reputation, so he didn’t come with second class this time.”
“You look beautiful.” He smiled at her lopsidedly while he bandaged his hands. “Hey, don’t worry too much about me. If he comes full force at me I’ll greet him the same way. I only have to think about this morning to be mad with rage.”
“I know. I’m sorry.”
“So tomorrow night then?”
“If I can get Raoul’s keys, yes. Please, Ethan, don’t bet your life on this. It’s just a chance, not a guarantee. If he stays away from me the whole day I can’t do anything.”
“But you’ve got a plan?”
“It’s a hazard game.” She lowered her gaze, weighed down by what he expected of her. “I’ll try everything, Ethan. But up to the moment when I open your cell it’s all... vague.”
“I’ll be here.”
Jazmin’s throat was too constricted to speak. His trust as well as his need to be finally freed broke her heart. She nodded and turned away when Pascual and Sosimo came to bring out the fighter.
Raoul suddenly grabbed her arm. “How dare you stand here? I ordered you at my side! Now come and pretend you like to be with me, or this’ll be a bad night for your pet!”
She saw Adrián standing near the row of chairs, looking at her intently, hands in his pants’ pockets. Raoul guided her through the aisle and smiled the whole time as if he already knew the outcome, not to mention that he was showing off his beautiful girlfriend all the time. Jazmin made an effort to lighten up her expression. She had gone a long way to alter Ethan’s fate.
She wouldn’t falter on the last hurdle.
****
The holidays, fur babies, and romance come together in this anthology to
I don't have a release in November, but I'm part of a charity anthology releasing December 15 - Pawliday Love. Proceeds are gong to animals and families impacted by the hurricanes in NC and FL. All the authors are contributing a short story. Mine will feature characters from Winter Falls, Asher and Tess, as well as reference to Northern Rescue for a new spin off series I'm planning.
Did you know Northern Rescue is available in Large Print?
And! Whew, three new preorders.
When scandal fades and passion ignites.
In a sun-soaked tropical paradise, Vance is ready to trade his Michelin-starred life for something more fulfilling. Opening Beach Bum—a vibrant seaside café on the sandy shore—he’s not just serving up delectable treats; he’s craving the taste of freedom. Tired of the corporate grind, he seeks a no-strings-attached connection, but what he finds is anything but ordinary.
Fresh from a broken engagement and the suffocating expectations of her old life, Lara takes a spontaneous flight south, landing in Vance's beachside haven. The warm sun and salty air beckon her to let go of her past. Drawn to Vance’s magnetic charm, she soon discovers their relationship ignites a passion she never knew existed.
As their fiery connection deepens, Lara grapples with the thrill of surrendering to Vance's dominance. But when Troy—a mysterious figure from Vance's past—enters their world, everything shifts. What begins as a steamy fling evolves into a tantalizing love triangle that tests boundaries and desires under the tropical sun.
https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0DKVBWT4F
It was meant to be a short and shallow steamy read.
That’s what perplexes me about this latest project: how it ballooned into a novella. The intention was a 1,200-word wham-bam-thankyou-sir flashfic, but while writing Sofia’s initial exchange with Alexei, little hints at her backstory kept popping up. I had to explore what got her on that interstellar cruise ship in the first place. Why was this dinner date so important?
I’m not too old-fashioned. I’m content with a one-night stand being what it is. But everything means something to someone. Everything we do is part of a bigger story. And we do things because they matter to us for one reason or another. It may be a small reason, like you’re antsy and need a fix. You can have your one-nighter and let it go, no problem.
But then how you go about it is unique to you; the way you flirt, make your intentions known, how you eventually pop the question. Those little decisions are a culmination of who you are, how people have treated you in the past, what you think about the person you’re with, and how you choose to express yourself.
It means something.
I guess, then, there’s so much you could say about a one-night stand if you wanted to. At the time, I didn’t think I wanted to. But the more I wrote, the more words kept pouring out.
Sofia isn’t me, but she shares elements of my stories, and of the stories I’d collected from people who at some point in their lives loved too much, loved for the wrong reasons, loved the wrong person, not loved themselves enough, or not let themselves be loved.
This novella, The Only Question That Matters, arrives in its re-edited incarnation on 9th December.
“Do I call this love already? I am almost disgusted with myself. How pathetic to fall so easily. Perhaps I was the cause of my past heartbreaks. Not stupid schoolboys or an arrogant rich man, but a gullible girl from a flower farm who opens her heart too readily and expects too much.”
Sofia is en route to Planet Paradiso, ready to start a new life after her divorce. But when she accepts Alexei’s dinner invitation on her final evening, she realises she’s in for more than she bargained for.
As the AMS Celestial Dream arrives at its destination, and their one-night stand draws to a close, Sofia must choose between a newfound possibility with Alexei and the freedom she so desperately craves.
✨ Get this sci-fi romance novella ✨
JL Peridot writes love letters to the future on devices from the past. Visit jlperidot.com for the full catalogue of her work.
When I made a pumpkin pie for our Canadian Thanksgiving this year, I had half a can of pure pumpkin left over. Rather than letting it go to waste (or sit forgotten in the freezer), I made gluten-free pumpkin muffins with it. A delicious snack to have on a break with a cup of cocoa and a great book!
Gluten-free Pumpkin Muffins
1/3 cup brown sugar
1/3 cup white sugar
2 eggs
½ cup canola oil
1 tsp vanilla
1 ½ cup E.D. Smith pure pumpkin (not pumpkin pie filing)
1 ½ cup gluten-free flour blend (I use Robin Hood)
1 tsp baking soda
1 tsp baking powder
1 tsp cinnamon
¼ tsp nutmeg
¼ tsp ground cloves
¼ tsp salt
Beat the sugars with the eggs until thick (2 minutes). Slowly pour in the oil with the mixer on low speed. Stir in the vanilla and pumpkin. In a separate bowl, mix together the flour, baking soda, baking powder, and spices. Add to the wet ingredients and mix only until combined. Scoop the batter into a paper-lined muffin tin (or use a silicone mold). Makes 30 small muffins or 12 regular muffins. Bake at 350 degrees for 15-18 minutes. Enjoy!
And if you need an idea for a great book…In Perfectly Christmas, the small town is worried that the new – but temporary - surgeon will fall in love with their beloved family doctor and lure him away when she leaves. They set up a plan to keep the two doctors apart! Perfectly Christmas is part of the Perfectly Series, but it can be read as a stand-alone. It’s a fun, sexy, holiday romance – perfect if you need an escape!
That’s the life of a surgeon, and Dr. Madison Hayes wouldn’t have it any other way.
Dr. Quinn Malone has another priority. In the countdown to Christmas, he needs to convince his old flame that there’s more to life – and love – than the job itself.
This time, his heart is in it for the long haul. Really.
Romantic and . . . complicated – it’s Perfectly Christmas!
Enjoy an excerpt from Perfectly Christmas ~
Edna Alexander and Bea Mitchell stood at the window of the seniors’ center and watched the new surgeon drive out of the parking lot.
“She’s very young, Bea.”
“And very pretty,” Bea agreed with a frown. She adjusted the tortoise shell glasses perched on her nose. “Didn’t we specify we wanted someone old, someone frumpy?”
“There wasn’t a tick-off box for that.”
“Hmph. There should’ve been.”
They watched the car pull out onto the street and hit the curb as it turned.
“She drives like us.”
“True. And look at the bright side, Edna. If we need surgery, it’d probably be better to have a young whipper-snapper doin’ it rather than some old fart like us.”
“I’m more worried about losing Dr. Quinn.”
Bea pursed her lips. “I know. But what are the chances of that happening?”
Edna gave her a grim sideways glance. “I’d have said slim to none three weeks ago. But when Dr. Hoity-Toity Hecktare decided she’d had enough of us, and Dr. Quinn looked like he was going to go with her, I almost had a stroke. I would never have believed he’d abandon our beloved Strathaven for a girl.”
“Woman,” Bea corrected absently. “Do you think he truly loved her?”
Edna shook her head and her gray curls bounced. “No.” She bit her lip. “Yes. That’s what I’m worried about. What if he up and falls in love with this new surgeon and leaves us?”
“We’d have a town of five thousand with no doctor.”
“Exactly. We’d be right back where we were five years ago before Quinn returned home.”
“And we’d have to go through another round of recruitments for a new doctor. I rue the day when someone from the Underserviced Area program figures out that we’re the Mitchell Alexander who’s been filling out all those forms.”
“A problem for another day.” Edna sighed. “Maybe she’ll stay. Dr. Madison Hayes. She seemed very friendly. Very small-townish.”
Bea grunted. “Not likely. You read her application. I’ll bet my boots she’ll do her two years and move on.”
“And take Quinn with her.” Edna twisted the strap of her oversized purse. “We can’t control his heart.”
“No. But we can’t risk him falling in love, either.”
“So we’ll keep them apart.”
Bea’s eyebrows shot up and she paused, considering. “That’s not a bad idea.”
“Of course, it’d be easier if he wasn’t also the only anesthetist for miles around. They’re going to have to work together.”
“Sure, but they’re professionals. I can’t see them getting into any hanky-panky at work. We’ll just make sure they’re never alone together outside of the clinic.”
Edna grinned widely. “Excellent plan. I’ll get on the blower, and before she unpacks, we’ll have a network of chaperones in place.”
“Email me the list.”
“Send me an email, and I’ll reply.”
Bea looked at her pointedly. “Edna, you gotta learn how to send an email.”
“I know how,” Edna said. “You hit reply, then type, then send.”
Bea laughed and threw her arm around Edna’s shoulders. “I think I’ll get you a computer lesson for Christmas.”
Edna’s eyes lit up. “A private one? With that hotty Albert Sparkle?”
Bea stepped back and started buttoning her coat. “Albert’s one hundred and two. And I think the name is Spartan. Does he even own a computer?”
“Yes, and he’s rigged himself up the perfect cup holder with this little drawer thingy that slides out at the top of the computer engine.” Edna pulled a crocheted cap over her curls.
Bea frowned. “You mean the CD tray on the tower?”
Edna smiled. “Maybe. Isn’t that brilliant?”
Bea laughed. “You two were made for each other. C’mon, let’s go and start Operation Put Out the Fire.”
Buy link (you can also enjoy it in Kindle Unlimited): https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01MYW5T7X
Award-winning author Linda O’Connor started writing romantic comedies when she needed a creative outlet other than subtly rearranging the displays at a local home décor store. Her books have enjoyed bestseller status. When not writing, she’s a physician at an Urgent Care Clinic. She shares her medical knowledge in fast-paced, well-written, sexy romances – with an unexpected twist. Her favourite prescription to write? Laugh every day. Love every minute.
Website https://www.lindaoconnor.net
Twitter https://twitter.com/LindaOConnor98
Facebook https://www.facebook.com/LindaOConnorAuthor
Goodreads https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/795688.Linda_O_Connor
Amazon Author Page https://www.amazon.com/Linda-OConnor/e/B00S7CNLEA
