Wednesday 30 December 2015

COVER REVEAL - GIFT OF THE BLOOD GOD: DARK DAY

COMING SOON


‘Faelings Doom – Book Two’


The erotic, paranormal, fantasy series continues...

?? January 2016

Saturday 19 December 2015

Gift of the Blood God: The Seduction of Rogan - Yours for FREE for Christmas!


























CHRISTMAS AND HOLIDAY SEASON – FREE READ


e Gift of the Blood God – The Seduction of Rogan f

A Faelings Doom Interlude

Genre:- Erotic, Fantasy Romance with a dash of Paranormal,
Sizzling sexiness, and lashings of magic (18+)


Available from the following vendors









“Enjoy”

Sydney Whyte

Friday 18 December 2015

Gift of the Blood God - Drawn - Available NOW from further Vendors


If you've been following my recently finished 'Blog Tour' you will have a greater understanding of the world I have created and the people that populate it.


Now the first installment in this amazing series is available from a further three outlets




The world of Abod le A’nor stood waiting…
From the near new city of the civilised Oremen, to the wild untamed clans of the warrior nations of the Ancients, to the primitive quiet villages of a long lived and isolated people; their Dreamers dreamed and sensed the streams of time eddying and calling.  The Gift was coming, and all eyes turned to the rugged climes of the southlands.
Two women struggled through the new day, through vast tracts of dark and ominous wilderness.  Shocked and confused in the aftermath of what should have been a near fatal accident, twins Lorrie and Melory found themselves stumbling into a fate nothing in their previously sheltered lives had prepared them for.  Nothing was familiar and even the comfort they found in each other’s company could not keep the fear or panic at bay.
Where were they?
In a world imbued with strange powers and lingering passions, the past machinations of the doomed Faeling will irrevocably change forever the Neilson sisters’ future.
Thus begins the journey of the sisters’ awakening.



Please note: - this series contains swearing, sexual content and adult themes – suitable for persons over the age of 18 years


Excerpt One

Déjà vu!
The eerie feeling of repetition, of having seen or experienced before the deep body of water that lay before them, its shores encased in clusters of tall, brown reeds, and sluggish, green algae, a strong current forcing its way through the lakes centre, flowing like the traffic down a frantic motor way dangled like memory and yet, as with all such recollections, Melory was hard pressed to recall when or where she had previously seen it.  She stopped, staring around the clearing, teeth erasing the remainder of her torn, previously lovely fingernails.  Melory dropped her hands angrily, hiding her anxiety by thrusting them into her jeans, but she continued to survey her surrounding, her mind a thudding, distracting scramble for the elusive memory, for the threat secreted within the calm scene.  Something…
The sound of her own swallowing echoed in her head, the wind of her breath swishing loud as a gale above the thunder of her heart.  She waited; her teeth denied nails chewing nervously on her lips.  It wasn’t that she had seen reed-infested riverbanks before; it was that she had seen this exact one.  Something…
The skin on her shoulders smouldered through her clothes as the sun burned down.  Steam rose up, smothering her breath, collecting in fat drops to drip like sea water from the end of her nose, her thirst a roiling nausea in her stomach.  Something, something…
“Lorrie!”
A dark, claustrophobic clutter of moss draped trees parted along the path Lorrie had continued to follow unaware of Melory’s unease.  She turned at the sound of her name, pale in the sunlight, a bright silhouette before the gloomy screen of beckoning forest, a questioning frown on her brow.  Yet the only thing Melory could think, like a flashing light, a neon scream, warning clarity, one word insinuating itself on her brain: “Ambush!”

Excerpt Two

Despite her thirst Lorrie found she was unable to finish the beverage.  She sat with the cup clasped in her tied hands and leaned warily back against the fallen trunk, her internal heat unrelieved.  She wanted water yet she was uncertain whether her stomach would be able to handle even that.  She felt strangely queasy.
The food, stew and a hunk of dry bread came steaming to her on a wooden trencher which she balanced on her lap. “Could you untie me, please?” She queried uncertain how they expected her to eat anything without spilling the entire dish on the ground.  The smell tugged at her nostrils with desire yet nauseated her at the same time.
“Nay, tis not permissible.  You do show yourself wilful and violent and the Eagle, he does not trust you of a moment.”  The long haired stranger shrugged at her with a faint smile creasing his face, two long dimples appearing in his cheeks.  Again he had backed away to let her struggle in peace.
Didn’t trust her! Who was this Eagle?  She knew instantly it was the green-eyed arsehole. Why, that conceited little bastard. “What the hell?” and the vessel almost dropped immediately with her growing anger.  She was the one captive here, why wouldn’t she run, why would he expect her submission? She wanted to be free, should be free… she was a decent person, capable of being reasoned with, this situation was abominable…and that was it, there was nothing reasonable about it, and he knew it.
“Eat.”  Long-hair encouraged and turned away.
“No, Please. Come back!“ she insisted to his retreating back and tried to get up, the trencher tipping sideways anyway and landing with a splat upside down at her feet.  “Damn!  Come back; explain what I’m doing…” Lorrie abruptly stopped; stumbled, her vision blurring with a sudden nauseating sway.  Pain sprang behind her eyes and she sat back hard.
Long-hair returned quickly kneeling beside her and holding her shoulder as she sagged with fatigue. “Are you well?”
She couldn’t raise her head; clear her thoughts. “Yes, no…I mean.” And then she sank back against the body of the log, head rolled back against its hard support and tried to focus on him.  “Who are you, where am I? You speak English.  How do you know it?”
“I am Simeon, called Souls-ease,” he replied quietly, hands coming to Lorrie’s cheeks, her forehead; his blue gaze full of concern “I did learn of Melan’s tongue at the feet of Seer Manuel Quester of the Haven, enough at least to speak with those of the Etherworld.
“Here you do burn up.  You are not well.”
“The Etherworld,” she ignored him.  Of course she wasn’t well!  She was having a fucking nightmare, one that never seemed to end and she needed to know what the hell was going on. “What’s that? Who are you? Who are they? What have you done with Melory?”
“Melory? I know not this word.” Simeon continued and she stared at him stupidly wondering why his visage slipped in and out of focus all the time.  “Look, you are sore ill.”
“No, I’m fine.” Lorrie insisted and grabbed his hand as if she feared he would leave her. She had to know.  “Melory is my sister, the little woman with the red hair…”
“Ah, yes,” he looked mildly uncomfortable, “She is captive of the Watcher; the Duballe of Mavishan, he did take her…”
The words held no meaning to Lorrie but very little of anything now did.  Lorrie blinked, tried to wipe sweat from her face, to push the humid air from about her nose.  She just needed to breathe something cold; she was overwhelmed by the heat that seemed to be radiating from her core, found herself panting like a dog but nothing worked and panic sped the pace of her heart.  Lorrie felt momentarily the cold clarity of the man’s hands on her as he gripped her in alarm trying to hold her up.  The world was turning grey, the sound of waves roaring inside her head and then darkness rolled before her eyes, taking the sight of the world from her.


Gift of the Blood God - Drawn is Book One of the 'Faelings Doom' series, and is recommended for readers who like their romances juxtaposed with a bit of paranormal mystery, fantasy, and tension.
...Before one is even a chapter into Gift of the Blood God, graphic sexual scenes and experiences are presented...
(The) audience will find the scenes of sex and swearing are not overdone, but add a compelling and realistic feel when presented in the wider context of very real characters facing the demands of the unknown...
But sex and swearing is by no means what Gift of the Blood God is all about; these are just devices within the greater saga of twins trapped in another world where romance and death, revenge and intimacy, and love and danger are too closely related for comfort.
Move a cast of well-drawn characters into this backdrop and the ultimate result is a story line that is satisfyingly unpredictable and set in a world that is well developed, with protagonists that include priestesses and gods struggling with the sexual ties that bind.
Midwest Reviews

...an enchanting story that pulled me in and has me searching for the next installment.  It instantly became a guilty pleasure.  It was surprisingly that good.  What I appreciated most was the time the author seemed to put in developing her world and story.
Review - Rainthursdays.wordpress.com

Well written and totally engrossing read.  Can't wait for the next installment.
Review - Amazon

At first it took a while to get into this book.  The writing was something (I) needed to get use to; the way the characters spoke and interacted with one another.  The jumps from past-future-etherworld-past, also took a fair bit of concentration...... BUT I stuck with it and by the end of the book was eager to read on and find (o)ut what happens to the HOT couples that appear to be melding!!!:D
Review - Goodreads

Gift of the Blood God: Drawn $USD0.99c


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Gift of the Blood God - The Seduction of Rogan

Available now…


e Gift of the Blood God – The Seduction of Rogan f

‘Faelings Doom – Interlude One’

There was one thing Rogan had desired for most of his life.  Not status or rank, or the esteem of his peers.  Not wealth or privilege, such things were afforded him as acolyte to The People’s priestess.  No, the thing he wanted above anything else was a woman - a special and intriguing creature.  His closest and dearest friend; she was beautiful, an enigma, power-filled – and his elder by at least a score of years.  Not that it mattered.  Age was relative when one was of The People, of the descendants of the Ancients.  Sometimes it felt their lives went on for ever; forlorn and desolate, without the possibility of fulfilment… He wanted Dana, the Weaver.  The wife of another.  And not only that, but the wife of his brother.

The infamous events of her youth had marked Dana - wounds that ran deep and painful.  She knew her error.  Foolishness dogged her every step and not least that she had bonded herself to the wrong brother.  But soon it would be over, the consequences of a lapse of judgement.  Five days, that was all and she would be free.  Hope soared.  No longer would she be shackled to the man who had left home and village the very day after their bonding ceremony, not to be seen again for nigh on seven years.  And once free, then what?  Could she do it?  Risk all again, risk her greatest friendship for something that promised everything and yet had the potential to leave her with nothing.
***
Set in the world of Abod le A’nor, this erotic fantasy interlude to the ‘Gift of the Blood God’ series explores the effects of a restrictive and oppressive culture on long-time friends who are trying to come to terms with the depth of love and the physical desire they have for each other.
Meet Rogan Farsight, a reluctant adherent to the teachings of the first disciple.  Forced to give up his beloved craft – an artisan of wood – to submit to the townships incumbent priestess and become her acolyte because more than any other his gift of the Mavishan farsight is already greater.

Revisit Dana, now known as the Weaver, an accomplished woman.  She is the barer of many gifts and talents revered by the Mavishan people – not least the ability to cast illusion by the mere facility of ‘weaving’ the vision together with her mind, and her perfect memory.  Her youthful indiscretion still haunts her, her foolish mistakes leading her astray and into continued infamy in her home village.

How will they fare when the annulment of her infamous marriage draws nigh – when she is free and the possibility for their friendship can blossom into something far deeper…?

[Warning:- This book contains swearing and sexual content and adult themes – suitable for persons over the age of 18yrs.]


“Rogan?”
His head snapped up, his hands stilled in the mixing of the liquid honey and tobacco with the soft call of his name.  Dana!  What did she here?  Few would dear to interrupt work they thought part of their Holy Rites.  Sans Thyne, Rogan’s body still hardened at the sight of her, yet he rose from his chair in greeting sure the leather apron across his lap offered sufficient decency.  Dana’s skin was soft beneath his lips as he kissed her cheek and surreptitiously inhaled her sweet lavender scent.
“Is aught wrong?”
“Nay,” she smiled, her grey eyes sparkling as she lifted a cloth covered basket.  “Naught but that your dam does think you eat improperly, or not at all, and I did volunteer to bring her offering to you.”
“And you came here?”
“Yes.  I was curious.  Never have I been past the sanctuary.  Tis little imposing.”  Glancing around the room critically, she sank to the chair opposite and pushed the basket toward him. “Though what I expected, I know not.  Tis just a kitchen.  Somehow I expected… well, more.”
“Such opulence is saved for the public areas,” Rogan snorted and pushing the preparation equipment aside flipped the cloth back on the basket to reveal a number of fresh golden buns.  The waft of just baked bread tantalised his taste buds making his mouth water and reminding him again of his failed intentions to eat.  Silently he thanked his mother.
Without asking permission Dana dived into the basket before he had chance and snagged one, “I do so love your dam’s cooking.  Ah, look, see always the surprise, has she not filled it with shred pork and apple.  Naught is better than the delicious savoury and the sweet.”
They ate for a moment in companionable silence, Rogan’s gaze never leaving her face, hers never leaving his.  Her eyes were the most beautiful, expressive, volatile grey he had ever seen, the colour was as storm clouds roiling and thunderous, changing hue with her mood, darkening and lightening.  Now they sparkled and glowed with contentment as he reached boldly out to flick a piece of meat and juice from the side of her lip into her mouth.  The tip of her tongue inadvertently touched him.  Shards of awareness coursed through his body.
“What do you here?” she asked offering him a cup of water to wash the sticky residue down when they had finished.  “Gods, is that what I think?”
“What do you think?”
“Be that Thyne?”  She picked up the bowl of crushed leaf and fine shavings and sniffed curiously.  “It has little scent.” She frowned.  “Did I think somehow it would be more potent.”
Rogan’s heart nearly stopped.  “Leave it be!” he scolded, fear, yearning nearly swamping him for the thought of what it would do should she inhale it as it burned.  Heat, anticipation flushed from his groin to his head.  “Tis but the basics of the preparation.  Once mixed with these others here, and breathed through water, fire and the pipe, will it do its work and not before.”
For a moment an awkward silence filled the room.  Dana sat across the table her eyes alight, intent; lips pursing as if she were undecided and on the verge of asking something.  Raising his brows in question, Rogan tilted his head.  She took that as permission to speak.  “Have you… ever partaken?”
“How can I?”
“Know I that it is forbidden to you as unclaimed, but…”  She reached out and gripped his wrist, “but you are there, at the Ritual.  You have seen its effect, smelt its allure… surely…”
“Dana…?”
For a moment confusion swirled as a grey whirlpool in her eyes, longing and sadness.  “I have seen…  I would…  Never…  Never once…”
His breath hitched.  Did she want this?  Did she long for unfettered coupling, to have passion run through her veins as fire?  This confession seemed on the verge of her tongue.  His tension mounted.  She would confess this to him!  On life she did not need Thyne, and he would tell her so.  She had fervent desire in abundance.  He had borne it witness.  Hers was pure, unadulterated need spinning from her heart, her head, her body…
Her eyes veiled suddenly beneath long dark-blond lashes as her gaze fell to her hand on his arm.  Awkwardly she lifted it, offering him a quick pat.  “Pay me no mind.  I do but ramble, and now beg forgiveness.  Tis not a subject appropriate…”
At a loss, Rogan could only stare but she did not immediately meet his gaze until he said, “naught is there to forgive, Dana.”
Her smile was watery.  His heart bled.
“You are the best of men, know you that, Rogan.”  Soft fingers caressed him and instinctively he turned palm upward, capturing her hand.
“I miss you.” She continued.  “That you come no more to the Collective.  I did love to smell the ghost of lacquer, the scent of fresh turned wood, and hint of ash upon your hands…”
He swallowed hard, his mouth dry.  “Tis still there.”
As if this were an invitation, she pressed the tips of his fingers to her face, and eyes closed, she breathed him in.  “Tis true.  Faint.  But there be a definite hint.”
“Dana…”  He felt the soft brush of her lips as a whisper across his pads, the flush and fullness of her cheek as she laid it momentarily in his palm.  The desire to lean across the table and kiss her was overwhelming.  To speak, to tell her his greatest secret fired in his blood but the words would not come for within seconds as if she remembered herself, her place, propriety, she released him with a faint embarrassed smile.
 “Buba came to me this day.”  She changed the subject, quietly.
His heart sank.
*****


Available ‘FREE’ from the following vendors


Kobo

Nook

24Symbols

“Enjoy”

Sydney Whyte


Wednesday 16 December 2015

Blog Tour - Stop Seven - And we say 'Farewell'... Thanks to Andrew Grey (Author) for hosting my final post December 16th




The Tour might be over... but that's not the end.

So


where to from here?

Follow the link for the lowdown on what's been and what's coming next...


here's a hint


See you soon

Sydney Whyte

Blog Tour - Blog Stop Six - Hah?



As you might have noticed 'Stop Six' is missing...

(Sad face)

But that's no reason to miss out on what I had to say so here it is... just for you

Build me a world and make me a people.


The Faelings Doom Series is set in the world of Abod le A’nor.  It’s a fantasy world, it isn’t a science fiction one.  No spaceship can take you from here to there.  Only ‘magic’ can.
When building this world, I took great inspiration from the cultural variety of our own and realised that all peoples are the sum total of all that has gone before.  We are shaped by our histories even though we really may not recognise it (and apparently learn nothing from them either – what’s that saying? History repeats itself!).  The things we do, say and think are all influenced by what has gone before.

Case in point – ‘Going off half cocked’ is a term still used in the English language.  Of course we all know what it means – acting before we should or without thinking, but in reality it is the influence of the use of a weapon that often went off half-cocked, literally.  The flintlock firearm was the source of further sayings that we use without thought to their origin.  ‘Lock, stock and barrel’ – meaning, including everything completely; and ‘flash in the pan’ – something that happens only once or is not repeatable.  While the sayings are still in use today, the gun that influenced them has been out of favour since the mid-19th century.

The development of language/dialect is just the same.  With the movement, integration and merging of peoples and cultures, new and interesting variations of language occur.  English, for example, seems to me to be like a sponge, soaking up words from various other languages and making them its own.  This is an inevitable evolution.  This has never stopped and in this day and age of technology is now far more open and influenced by every part of the globe.

So how then do I make my world follow this same pattern of progression from ancient to ‘modern’?
The story of ‘Gift of the Blood God’ starts in Ancient times with a priestess, her husband and the secretive manipulations of a magical creature – a Fae – that has his own agenda.  What evolves from his schemes will change the face of their world irrevocably, the echoes of which resonate through their history until we find ourselves in the present where my two unsuspecting sisters are inextricably caught by the web of his machinations.  These sisters are from our world, taken by magic to a place that resembles nothing like our ‘advanced’ civilisation.  No cars, phones, laptops, no electricity… none of the normal luxuries of our modern existence that we take for granted.  They can’t even speak the same language as the natives.  Everything they learn, at least at first, they learn visually.

To the reader, however, I have been kinder than I have to them.  The book is written from many points of view and the reader is let into the secrets of this world well ahead of our two poor heroines.
A device I have used to help my readers understand the differences between Melory and Lorraine’s modern thinking and those of Abod le’s was to alter the way the text was written.  The book, coming from many POV’s strives to let the reader discern that difference with the alteration of the language.  If the scene is set in the Etherworld (the name the inhabitants of Abod le have given to basically any place outside their own world) then the language is colloquial, contemporary, and even a little coarse.  This goes for the occasions when the POV is either of the two sisters’.  If we are visiting a character from Abod le, however, the language is more formal, perhaps even a little ‘flowery’ to allow the flavour of their ‘otherness’ to shine through.  The text is also spattered with examples of their own language, and if the meaning is not immediate there is a glossary at the end with the translations.

EXCERPT
(Please be aware, this excerpt contains a few swear words)
“Leave him be, woman,” Simeon pulled her hurriedly aside with a warning glare.  She noted his use of the Mavishan tongue.  Did he think such speech would make her heed him the more?  She was not full-blood, Mavishan principles were nothing to her…  “The lad is young and unused to such wiles.”
Renee laughed and yanked her arm from his forbidding hold.  What did he know of anything?   Arrogant man!  But then were not they all, those pure-blood Mavishan, good for little but fucking, their seed potent and powerful.  Oh, they all tried to pretend they did not, preaching their morality, their abstinence, but she knew better… Simeon may have been a good few years her elder, at least a score and ten, but that did not make him wise, only rigid and, as pure descendant, full of hypocritical dogmatism.
“Think you that I do mean to hurt him?”  Renee sneered.  She had never heard that fucking hurt any man should he want it enough, and she was confident of her appeal.  The Tishan youth would want it; she had seen it in his eyes.  And Tishan had no such scruples; rampant coupling was an acceptable trait of that particular community; did they not even have abodes exclusive for such purpose?  The Houses of… well some ancient ancestor of the Tishan, a priest reputedly, who had turned from the preaching of abstinence to the law of Tota whatever that entailed.  He had begun the tradition, an answer to the failing magic of Tishan blood, their lives edging shorter and shorter…
And Simeon was well aware of this, he after all lived in their midst.  The lad was no virgin; he had cast a look of speculation down the contour of her tunic-clad body, her curves easily made out in the cling of her take on the Mavishan attire.  Tishan dress for woman was utter foolishness for such a life as hers but the simple shapes of Mavishan garments had not been satisfactory either; the blending of the two had definitely given all who saw her pause, and she smiled for the effect.  “You are foolish if you think such behaviour will be of harm.  I am clean and he…” she cast a speculative eye, a healer’s eye though she was no adept, but she saw easily more than skin, intuited gratefully the vibration of health and vigour, “does look so too.  Mayhap if you did throw off the binds of Mavishan regulation and deign to give such a try yourself would you not then forward me such impudent advice.”
Simeon’s blue eyes flared as his lips pressed in disapproval.  “And what that he will expect to negotiate a price?”
Shock spread Renee’s face at the implication.  The urge to slap the Souls-ease surged through her veins, though she managed to control it.  “I am no whore, as you do well know…”
The glacial eyes flashed with justification, “You know not as much as you think, Renee, Voden’s child.  If you do initiate such pastime then payment is his.  That is the way of Tota.”
Well now that was a startling piece of information.  She cast the youth a further speculation.  To pay for what she wanted, how did that thought take her?  It was not the way of Mavin’s people; they did share freely and without restraint, but she was tired of those she knew, all familiar; fearful; her gift anathema… only the brave, the very brave would let her touch them.  Oh for the anonymity of a stranger.  Renee had some coin if such were needed; and if not then a talent enough to turn his head…  Yes, she decided, as a greed for the promise of strong arms and thighs turned her lower regions to wobbly jelly.  It took her well enough.

Tuesday 15 December 2015

Blog Tour - Stop Five - with Moon Beams over Atlanta


Weekends over - we're all rested, so here's the next stop



Fae, faeries, fairies…


So much to choose from, so much lore to explore.  From the Roman household deities – penates, lares and even genii, to the simple Norse and Teutonic traditions of Valkyries, elves and disir to the much more rounded and vaunted Arthurian tales and Celtic legends, fairies abound in every way, shape and form...

Fae encompasses so many different notions, beliefs and traditions, that for my world and my purpose I dared to strip them bare.

Follow the link below for my guest post and a sizzling (R18) excerpt

FAE


Sydney Whyte

Friday 11 December 2015

Blog Tour - Stop Four - Guest Author for Dirk Greyson with some thoughts on the Dreaded Cliffhanger (10 December 2015)

From the iconic

'Who shot JR?'

to the all consuming question

'Is Jon Snow really dead!?'

we meet


"The Dreaded Cliffhanger"

Join me on this number four Blog Stop Tour for my book 'Gift of the Blood God - Drawn' with Dirk Greyson (Author) and find out why 'the Cliffhangering' isn't such a bad thing after all.

(haha, yes this is the link) 

Cheers

Sydney Whyte

Thursday 10 December 2015

Blog Tour - Stop Three: J.P. Barnaby - Inspirations - (9 December 2015)


























"When I was eighteen my family decided that for Christmas that year we would walk the Milford Track in Fiordland, New Zealand.  It’s a beautiful, wild bit of the country..."


See how the thoughts and experiences of my trip influenced my world of Abod le A'nor in
The Gift of the Blood God - Drawn
And to what lengths I would (or would not) go to, to identify with my characters

(Follow the link below for the lowdown on this Guest Post, Book Description & Buy Links, and Author Bio...)

INSPIRATION


Cheers


Sydney Whyte

Wednesday 9 December 2015

Blog Tour - Stop Two: Z.A. Maxfield - The Body Beautiful - (8 December 2015)

BLOG STOP TWO


A big thank you to ZA Maxfield for featuring my book - Gift of the Blood God - Drawn - on her blog this 8th December 2015
For this guest spot I have delved into the 'Body Beautiful'.


"It is a common perception, whether accurate or in error, that women are not visually-based creatures sexually – that it is exclusively the realm of men.  For me and I imagine a lot of woman, sexual stimulation does originate on the imagination side of their eyeballs.  The preference is, and I can only go by my own experience, to read it rather than watch it.  But then on the other hand to see a beautiful man is very exciting to women too..."


See the rest of my Guest Post and an Excerpt from my book by following the link below:-


ZAM


Z.A.Maxfield is a well known author of M/M erotica - check out her website and Facebook page for updates of her own amazing series' 

Monday 7 December 2015

Blog Tour - Gift of the Blood God - Drawn 7th - 16th December 2015






Starting today, I'm taking my book 'Gift of the Blood God - Drawn' on a whirlwind tour as guest author on a number of Blog Stops.

Join me as I delve beneath the surface of the story of Melory and Lorraine Neilson and all those that populate the fantasy world that is Abod le A'nor in this fantasy, paranormal, erotic fusion that is the the Faelings Doom Series

STOP ONE
7 December 2015 

Dirty Discourse

Guest Post
"Simple ideas are where most things start... and then we complicate them"

Stayed tuned for STOP TWO...


Snowbound by Larissa Ione - Review



It was predictable fare.  Nothing offensive, but nothing out of the ordinary... a sweet read.  Of course you knew from the beginning who the arseholes (douches - if you're Amazon) were, that was a given, almost cliche-ick, and you knew both the protagonists were flawed, protecting themselves from hurt, from each other, but definitely likable.  It fulfilled its purpose.  When I bought it, it was sold to me as a holiday read, a lovely way to pass the time of day, and it was.

This is not a new offering, but has been out since I think 2007, and I must say previous covers have been much more appealing... see below and tell me what you think.



«««

Sydney Whyte

Rating Chart
«……………….A no goer
««……………Alright, but not a re-read
«««………..Liked it
««««…….Loved it
«««««Amaze-balls – ticks all the boxes!!!