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About the book:

An old warrior, too stubborn to die. A royal heir, hidden since birth.
Can they save a realm on the brink of war?
Tragedy tears Gerald’s world apart and only his unwavering loyalty saves him. After serving as a soldier for years, a single act of self-sacrifice thrusts his future into the world of politics.

Cut off from all he knows, he becomes no more than a pawn to those in command. Banished with little more than the clothes on his back, he seeks a new purpose, for what is a warrior who has nothing left to fight for?

A fateful meeting with another lost soul unmasks a shocking secret, compelling him to take up the mantle of guardian. Bandits, the Black Hand, and even the king, he battles them all for the future of the realm.

Memories of the past, secrets that shape the future; his adventure is only the beginning.

Servant of the Crown is the series starter in the epic Heir to the Crown medieval fantasy series. If you like realistic fight scenes, compelling characters, and a gripping story, then you will love Paul J Bennett’s tale of a warrior who refuses to retreat.

Pick up your copy of Servant of the Crown, and discover the realm of Merceria today!

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About the book:

William Shakespeare said, “All the world’s a stage, and all the men and women merely players; they have their exits and their entrances.” We spend our lives playing many roles; acting out comedies, dramas, and tragedies. We dress up in our perceptions of truth and illusion and despite a lifelong relationship with learning our lines, we struggle to play our most important role—being ourselves.
We refer to our life as a journey, quest, and adventure—on stage, it’s a portrayal, performance, and recital—I call it…our Blessing Path and over 16 Acts, I invite you back on stage to prepare for your biggest performance, with you as director and in the lead role.
Before the final curtain descends, you will have answered a mysterious question—is what we experience Good Luck? Bad Luck? Who Knows? and does it matter?

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Paper and Ink highlights the powerful bond presented in long-term friendships as six characters age into their thirties, their shared force a ritualistic book club, and a handful of libations. As the group subsequently becomes threatened by an unknown source, Ellie Monroe, a researcher at the Natural History Museum finds her office ransacked and the artifacts of her research missing. As a reward is posted for the missing pieces, the group searches for the priceless artifacts unveiling adultery, blackmail, and answers to why they are being threatened.

Targeted Age Group:: 15-45

What Inspired You to Write Your Book?
The bond presented in long-term relationships and how they have the power to withstand extreme stresses and still prevail.

How Did You Come up With Your Characters?
I formulated my characters around people I've met in my life, character traits taken from the different jobs I've worked at and people I've met on the road.

Book Sample
The six of us hovered around Amelia’s glass table that carefully perched our grouping of wine glasses on book club night. Every Wednesday, our getaway, our haven separating us from the responsibilities of our shared reality. There is a thrill of escape offered by the simplicity of thin sheets of paper, ink, and a sturdy spine. Our mark of time within its world set by placement of a baby sock, receipt, or invoice, our bookmarks lost to the folds of a couch or junk drawer tucked cozily in the corner of the kitchen. Oil and spaghetti sauce marked pages within, championing another story: one of life experienced, a duality of two stories colliding.

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All demons have magic. Except one. And that’s just the beginning of my troubles.

I’m Ezekial. The only demon in Hell without magic. Yeah, me!

Being an outcast should keep me away from the attention of Lucifer’s Council, but apparently, they see something in me to use.

That, or they need someone to back a chimera carriage over.

I’m leaving for Seattle to find a runaway demon, who also happens to be the first of the Zodiac. A powerful magic-user. Heading to the Overworld, the only place where demons can be killed. I’m so lucky.

Remind me to thank Hell’s rulers… if I make it back.

But since when did anyone care what I have to say?

Being a loser is so much fun.

Targeted Age Group:: 18+

What Inspired You to Write Your Book?
I wanted to do something fun after years of writing horror and thrillers. I was making career switch into fantasy, and felt like this series was speaking to me the loudest. So it received the attention before my more epic stories. Now, the Zodiac series even has its own spinoff series in the works.

How Did You Come up With Your Characters?
I've had this main character in my head for years. His friends, enemies, and everyone in between were developed during the outlining phase of writing.

Book Sample
Let's get a few things straight.
All demons have magical Abilities—except one, and we'll get to that. Also, we don't look like those ridiculous caricatures you humans paint us as, even in Hell—which most demons, not me, prefer to call the Underworld—or walking the Overworld. Red skin and horns? Silly artifacts of ancient mortal political plays. Everything you've heard is an ugly stereotype, and more than a little offensive, if I'm being honest.
Before I get too far, let's address the minotaur in the room that is everyone being able to cast spells except for me. Being the only demon in the history of our race who can't wield magic is not something to brag about.
How did it happen? No one knows. Mother and Father—yes, us demons are victims of procreation too—have been shamed and criticized by the community from the beginning, so they stopped talking about it well before I turned three thousand years old. I mean, who wouldn't? Never in the million year history of our kind was there a demon like me.
I guess that makes me special, though you wouldn't know it by talking to Father. But he's an ass. He was from my earliest memory and I don't see him changing soon. I'm the shame of the family. The Segregate, different from everyone in the Underworld. Lucifer's reject.
"You're pathetic, Zeke."
That's me. Pathetic. The oddball. Nearly friendless and constantly getting my ass kicked by my closest friend.
I dodged the giant boa's strike, tucking and rolling behind a log before leaping on the fallen trunk and racing its length, knowing the snake would not be able to climb on it. Having put distance between me and Bilba's hellacious beast, I pushed my hair out of my eyes to look for an escape route.
There were none.
"Yeah, I'm well aware," I reminded Bilba Ravenous. "And you've got a stupid name. What of it?"
The blood on my lips, the result of tripping over Bilba's conjured snakes and falling face-first to the ground, left the taste of iron on my tongue. I was swallowing blood. My stomach was not going to be happy with me later, and I wasn't happy with my friend using his go-to spell—though I was more upset at myself for not anticipating him using it. He always did. Sometimes, I wanted to punch him hard enough to knock his stupid buzz cut hair off his even stupider head. Bilba could cast a number of spells, but most of them were half-ass attempts to learn something new. Snakes were his thing. How did I not see it coming?
After he tripped me with those slithering nightmares, he was kind enough to let me get to my feet before sending them after me. A simple task for him.
I ran for the nearest obstacle, a large, round evergreen shrub, thinking it would impinge the boas' ability to crush me. It circumvented the bush by cutting through the middle of it and was at my feet before I'd rounded the stupid thing. I jumped for the branch above my head, thanking Lucifer that he'd put it within my reach. Fate and all that, you know? How else could someone under five foot seven reach the blessed thing?
And there I hung, giving my temporary enemy the cockiest smile I could form.
"That's cheating," Bilba crossed his arms, pulling his loose shirt tight across his flabby chest.
"And you promised to try new spells and stop using those dumb things." I jerked my head at the coiled boas beneath me.
"But I win when I use them."
"Oh wow," I grunted as I pulled myself up to sit on the branch. "You beat the only magicless demon in Hell. Good job, buddy. You must be so proud of yourself. Let's agree to fight without magic and see how it ends."
"Fat chance," Bilba smirked.
I was drenched in sweat and he was barely breathing heavy, and he was the one who was desperately out of shape.
Bilba threw his head back, releasing a guttural laugh from the deepest part of his extended belly. Thankfully, he spared me the sight of it bouncing up and down by placing both of his hands over top of it, his long, black nailed fingers crisscrossing.
"I could crush you," he said in between chortling like a sow stuffed on a trough full of garbage.
I flicked my hand at him, unimpressed. "You and everyone else on the Fifth Circle. Heavens, everyone in any Circle of the Underworld. Big deal."
The Underworld has nine Circles. The Fifth Circle was home. A boring, crowded realm about as stimulating as having 'that' talk with your parents. It isn't at all like what your mortal Dante says. It can be nice in places. We have spots of open land, gardens, and prairies, that are designated as public spaces. My parents live near a garden, which makes it nice at times like this when Bilba wants to spar to improve his casting. Eve's Sanctuary—look, don't get mad at me, someone named these places long before I got thrown into the Underworld like a pariah—was today's location of my ass-kicking. A small but lush garden, it had become a regular spot to hang out and spar. Few demons used it, allowing me to lose to Bilba without completely being humiliated in the face of witnesses. I've had enough humiliation so there was no reason to pile more on.
Reaching down, I brushed the clumps of wet soil from my pants. Those were temporary; the grass stains were not. The small clumps fell and hit one of the boas on its stupid, small head. It looked up at me with a vengeful glare.
Bilba chuckled. "Your mother is going to kill you."
"You know what would be cool?" I asked, now adjusting to brush off the seat of my pants. "If you stopped abusing our friendship and the fact I'm the Segregate."
He cocked his head.
"What?"
One corner of his lip pulled up, making his chubby cheek look like it was rolling into his eye, made funnier because his thick eyebrows scrunched down, cutting his face in half. "Why do you call yourself that? It's a bullshit name, but it's one you can reject, you know?"
"Don't know."
Bilba shook his head. "I think you do."
"Maybe I'm into masochism?"
Bilba snapped his fingers, cutting off his spell. The two terrorist snakes puffed out of existence. I watched the grass for a moment longer.
"I won't conjure them again, I promise."
He was telling the truth, suddenly turning serious. Jumping from the tree and landing softly, I approached him. "Good, because I would have stepped on that one's head. I don't think he likes me."
"They're spells, Zeke. Nothing more. I'm pretty sure they don't have feelings."
I shook my head. "You don't know that for sure. Watch how he looks at me sometimes. I don't trust that little bastard."
Bilba slapped me on the back, still serious. "Stop avoiding the question."
"I'm not."
I was the Segregate, Lucifer's Council—oh, we'll get to them, trust me—made an official declaration when it became clear that I lacked Abilities in my first year of school. During the basic Abilities curriculum, all the other imps got to explore their magical gifts, and when my teacher discovered I could not even boil water, she isolated me until the school figured out what to do—which was to assign special homework, which was nothing more than busy work to keep me out of the way. Plenty of parent-teacher conferences and medical appointments followed and, after it was confirmed that I could not cast the officials got involved. They confirmed the findings, made an announcement that ostracized my family and created the societal reject that was me. At least I still had access to social programs like medical care and the such, but I lost the ability to go to a good university after school, making finding a reliable job nearly impossible. After the initial media frenzy, life returned to normal for everyone except me. Even my parent's friends and coworkers accepted them back into their circles after a time. Few demons my age gave me that same allowance, and only Bilba publicly allied himself with me, though he also accused me of holding on to my resentment, telling me for the past few hundred years that I needed to let it go or it would make me angry and bitter.
I resented him for telling me that.

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Janie desperately needs a change, and she needs it yesterday.

Ever since her boyfriend died and her best friends moved to Canada, she’s been lost and unable to enjoy life.

So she gets a new wardrobe, job, car, and apartment. In another city.

The new job and apartment are great, but her colorful neighbors will be a challenge to get used to:

– Agoraphobic Michelle and her car-crash happy son Ian who is obsessed with curing his mom,
– Part-time model/fashion designer Ben who seems to be competing for the worst boyfriend award and his miserable girlfriend Linda who hates her job,
– Goth metal chick Ashley who loves drugs, guns, and weird parties,
– Lackluster cops Tom and Sam who want a more exciting life.

Luckily, Janie has met Greg, a handsome therapist who might be the best friend a person can have. And her downstairs neighbor Kevin, a pro surfer with the looks of a Norse god, seems fun and friendly enough.

With all the antics and the chaos going on, only one thing seems certain: Her neighbors provide her with more distraction and change than she was ever ready for, including an epic romance.

Targeted Age Group:: Adults

What Inspired You to Write Your Book?
When I was 15, I spent a month in Santa Barbara, California. I loved everything about it and had a blast. After I came back, I had this idea about a woman getting over the death of her boyfriend with the help of the quirky new people in her life, and the story was born.

How Did You Come up With Your Characters?
One day, I was sitting and thinking about story ideas. (A very natural and instinctive thing for me to do for as long as I can remember.) I thought about writing about a woman getting over the loss of her boyfriend. And how easy would it be if the new man in her life was understanding and sensitive. So instead, I made him the opposite of that. I watched the sparks fly and conflicts grow. I kept thinking about a beach town in California and what my characters might be up to. One by one, they came to me, though the details have always been fuzzy.

Book Sample
Chapter 1

Los Angeles

Janie sat in her therapist Dr. Lucia Lopez’s office for the twenty-seventh time. She had been seeing her for about seven months.

Eight months ago, her boyfriend Lenny had died. Seven months ago, to add insult to injury, her two best friends Sarah and Andy had moved to Canada. That was when Janie knew she wouldn’t survive this without professional help.

It was the right call. They had talked through her pain, as well as feelings of abandonment and betrayal. Who would move abroad when their best friend was mourning the loss of her boyfriend? He had died two days before her thirty-fifth birthday. And a few weeks after his.

But, of course, it wasn’t that simple. Sarah and Andy weren’t just Janie’s best friends. They were also Lenny’s. Not that grief was, or ever should be a competitive sport. If it were, they would all probably be sharing the medal for first place: Sarah and Lenny had met when they were in diapers. Literally. Their parents were neighbors and dear friends. Luckily for them, their kids — both only children — had taken to each other immediately. Sarah had been inconsolable when Lenny’s father took a job in New York; they were in ninth grade. That’s when she met Janie.

Andy was Lenny’s college roommate. The two bonded over their dream to become Formula 1 drivers and realized it together.

Lenny had introduced Sarah to Andy, and after their move back to LA the four of them had been inseparable. Lenny was a close friend for years before he and Janie started dating.

Yes, the three of them were in immense pain. The difference was Sarah and Andy had each other. And Vancouver had them.

To be fair, Janie did see the appeal of making a new start in a new environment. Yes, she still felt a bit let down. But she was no longer angry with her friends. Talking things through with her therapist had helped immensely.

Lopez observed her patient as Janie studied the beautiful scenic photos of San Diego sprucing up the walls. She was particularly drawn to the blue-dominant one, where high, wild waves crashed onto the golden beach sand.
“Ever been?” Her therapist asked.
“When I was a kid. We vacationed there a lot. It was lovely.”
“Still is.”
Janie could hardly look away from the pictures. She was thinking. Planning. “I never went there with Lenny.”
“Might be just what you need to start over,” her therapist prompted.
“I turned down a job there a couple of weeks ago. Loved the firm. Loved what they offered. But I wasn’t sure I could handle such a huge change.”
“And now?” Janie leaned back and smiled. Her therapist continued. “Being the new person in an environment can provide a lot of distraction. And I definitely encourage you to go out and meet as many new people as you can. Still, never hurts to have someone you can call.” Lopez picked at the neatly stacked Rolodex on her desk. She searched a bit before she found the name she wanted. She took the card out and handed it to Janie. “Greg’s a good friend of mine from school. He’s a therapist himself, but he works for a corporation.”
Janie threw her a curious look.
“I’m sure he can recommend a few decent local therapists should you need one, but I’m really just giving you the number of a friend. He can show you around. Introduce you to people,” the therapist explained.
“Won’t he be weirded out? Me being your patient?”
“Janie, you’re just going through a tough time. And honestly, I think you will hit it off.” Janie looked horrified. The therapist laughed a little. “Relax. I’m not matchmaking. I know you’re not ready to date again. And Greg is seeing someone. But he makes a damn good friend.”
“Thank you,” Janie said gratefully.

*

Janie wasted no time calling Greg when she went home. If she were going to change cities, she might as well start making friends. He sounded even more pleasant than described.

She made her second call to Ellen Parker, the head of the San Diego fashion design firm who had offered her the job.

*
Janie was in her bedroom, hastily packing the remainder of her wardrobe into the suitcase on her bed. She wanted to be out of there like yesterday. Her older brother Peter sat next to the suitcase, disapproving, which was his default mode. Janie kept ignoring him. That was her default in their relationship. He’d never change. And on the plus side, he couldn’t stand being ignored.
Janie looked at her almost full suitcase, and then at the other fully-packed carry-on on the floor. Her closet was far from empty. Peter read her mind.
“That’s what happens when you shop non-stop for three weeks.” Peter pointed out the obvious. Janie kept packing. “You don’t have to do this, you know,” he pressed.
She went into the bathroom. The moment she was out of sight, Peter unzipped the suitcase on the bed and threw the clothes back into the wardrobe.
Janie returned with her toiletries and saw Peter unpacking. “What the hell?” She darted to her bed, pushing him aside. She dumped the toiletries on the bed and quickly recovered the items from the wardrobe, throwing them back into the suitcase until it couldn’t take any more. Then she zipped it shut with one swift, angry pull.
“Hey, take it easy. You know I have nothing against you moving on. But transforming your whole life to do it?”
“Remind me, when did the love of your life die?” She lifted her suitcase from the bed and put it on the floor. She dragged the carry-ons as she exited the room.
Peter followed her outside. As soon as he saw the new red Chevrolet Camaro parked in the driveway, his eyes almost left their sockets – cartoon style. “What was wrong with your perfectly normal car?”
Janie just placed her suitcases in the trunk and shut it. The backseat was full of photo albums, DVDs and CDs.
“Do you have any savings left at all? And why are you still traveling like it’s the 90s?”
Janie smirked at the question. Peter looked like he might have a heart attack soon. She got in the car and closed the door. She took out what looked like a brand-new phone from her bag, gestured him to call her and drove away.
Peter frowned, then instinctively fished out his phone to test his theory. He dialed Janie’s number. No longer in use.

*

Janie sped away in her convertible. Her car’s speakers blasted AC/DC’s Highway to Hell for good measure. She smiled as she mouthed the lyrics, ironically feeling like she was escaping hell.

*

Janie looked out of the window of her new fourth-story apartment. She could see the beach down the road. On quieter days, she bet she could hear the waves splashing on the shore.
The neighborhood was stunning with just enough colorful buildings. Not too crowded. The tallest ones had five or six floors at the most, giving everyone space to breathe.
The inhabitants were intent on making the most of the beach. People who lived here weren’t exactly rich, but they didn’t have money problems either. Not that Janie cared about that. It would just be nice to hit Peter with the facts when he started nagging that she’d downgraded her life somehow.

*

A couple of hours later, Janie sat on her sofa and took in her spacious two-bedroom apartment. It was modern and vibrant without being too quirky. It was completely her. She had only a few boxes left to unpack. She smiled to herself, dialed her mom on her cell and left a message.
“Hi, mom. Just calling to say I’m almost settled. This place is amazing. Remember, you can’t give this number to Peter. Or my address. Not yet.”
She hung up and dialed Greg. Got his voicemail.
“Hey! You were right. This place is something else. Thanks for everything. Let me know when you want to meet up.”

*

Past midnight, Janie was sound asleep in her bed. Suddenly, loud hardcore metal music with brutal vocals blasted from downstairs and jolted her awake.
“What the hell?” she yelled and tried to go back to sleep. She buried
her head in her pillow. The music continued. Frustrated, she took her MP3 player from her top night table drawer. She put her earphones on. Before she could push play, she heard the loud crack of a gunshot. Then another.
Shaking off her initial panic, Janie dialed 911.

***
End of Chapter 1.

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Is it easy to be young? One smart man described youth as a disadvantage that usually goes away quickly.
It is only in our youth that we are so selflessly and completely indulging to fun and are so hopelessly feeling alone, fearfully thinking about our uncertain future.
The author of this story recalls her youth during the dramatic events in the history of Russia in the 90s.
The emotional aspect of relationships with the opposite sex representatives in an attempt to find inner comfort is described.
This is the second book of the cycle “The Unbearable Longing of the Flesh”.

Targeted Age Group:: 35+

What Inspired You to Write Your Book?
The idea of ​​writing the cycle "The Unbearable Longing of the Flesh" came to me while reading the famous saga of Marcel Proust "À la recherche du temps perdu ". I have to admit I am a devoted fan of this french author.
So, thinking about how Proust builds his story, I was surprised to find that in his text Proust gives very little plot development in terms of the amount of "action". But at the same time a certain impressionable young man with a fine mental organization was chosen as the main character of the novel, who perceives these ordinary and unremarkable things that happens to him, very in an sharp manner. Therefore, on the pages of the novel, we come across literally "kilograms" of the author's reasoning on general themes and an analysis of the elusive feelings of this young man. And all this is held together solely based on the unique recognizable author's style and on this very analysis of the smallest sensations, plus on not too banal – and sometimes, on the contrary, even on a little paradoxical – reasoning on general topics.
And at that very moment I suddenly thought: but I can also reason a lot, and maybe even no less original than Proust, in my very immodest opinion. And in my reasoning I stand on the position of a person familiar with the much later and more sophisticated fruits of intellectual achievements of human civilization than Marcel Proust could use in his reasoning.. And the events of my youth were certainly much more exciting than our respected Marcel had.)

Book Sample
However, there was one friend Lenka whom I hang out with.
I remember once she invited me to her place.

The September sun that did not warm… Precisely such kind of sun was shining as she brought me from her city apartment to the garden of her country house.
The garden was rich with sun and covered in fallen apples – signs of the inevitable wilting of nature.
We were picking apples. We satisfied our hunger with hastily cooked potatoes and canned fish.
The country house was completely at our disposal, we felt there as sovereign owners.
Her naive admiration for her "vast" possessions was transferred also me while she was galloping and frolicking, like a child, jumping on springy beds and climbing trees…
Having agreed to share this simple leisure with her, I found myself to have a strange feeling that both boredom and a desire to get away quickly were inevitably taking hold of me.
At that time, I had already tasted all the charm of merging and unity with a man, all the exciting and sweet abyss of this game, and therefore I could no longer seek sincerely to harmony in communication with my girl friends.

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Enlightenment!—You may spend your whole life seeking it, but never find it. You may never search for it or even know that it’s possible, but reach it by accident. And you may live out your life ignorant of its existence, and die having never discovered your highest potential for happiness, self-mastery, and creative brilliance.

The enlightened psychologist Abraham Maslow was the first to scientifically describe the fully enlightened person—which he called the “self-actualizing person.” Building on Maslow’s work through careful biographical study of the lives of self-actualizing people, humanistic psychologist and biographer Roman Gelperin found their enlightenment to stem from a nearly-identical handful of breakthrough experiences, which he will reveal to you in this book.

Partly a firsthand account of the author’s own accidental enlightenment, and partly a full biography of Abraham Maslow’s journey to self-actualization, this book will teach you how to identify, understand, and attain those key experiences of:

– Unlocking the perennial method of using your mind to its fullest potential

– Being fully at peace with yourself, by deconstructing your internal conflicts

– Deriving a near-constant joy, pleasure, and satisfaction from sheer existence

– Half-creating, half-discovering your driving passion and unique purpose in life

– Automatically evolving the self-actualizing qualities of total honesty, supreme self-confidence, natural creativity, effortless spontaneity, and independent thinking

By the end of this book, you will thoroughly understand what enlightenment is, how and why it occurs, and the ways to pursue it!

Targeted Age Group:: 18 and up

What Inspired You to Write Your Book?
Experiencing the state of enlightenment Abraham Maslow described personally. Then becoming able to recognize it in other people. Then realizing I can explain that state in other people through describing my own experiences in deep introspective detail.

Book Sample
In the late autumn of 2009, while slowly recovering from a harrowing spine injury, I was suddenly rocketed into a state of pure self-actualization. I was nineteen at the time, a sophomore psychology student at Stony Brook University; and for the next year and a half, until I dropped out of college at the end of my third year, I experienced a near-uninterrupted state of the most ecstatic enlightenment—the kind few philosophers, sages, and mystics across all history rarely attain.
From a highly neurotic, insecure, intellectually confused adolescent—rife with anxieties, self-reproaches, dishonesty, laziness, and incessant self-doubt—I was transformed into an utterly confident, profoundly driven, totally guilt-free human being—possessing radiant intellectual clarity, unblemished honesty, and a bulletproof self-esteem.
During this transformation, I could gaze back at my former psychological malaise with a god’s-eye view. The doors to my mind’s full potential were thrown asunder. I was supremely cognizant of the person I was before, of everything that had changed in me, and of why it had changed. I was able to glean the most dazzling truths about the human mind, to independently reach the most earth-shattering insights into human nature. And having solved all my own psychological problems, I felt I had the ability to solve anyone’s, that I had discovered the single root cause of the worst of humanity’s ills, and that I—and perhaps I, alone—held the cure.
That now became my mission in life: to help others reach the same enlightenment I did, to teach mankind the path to unlocking its full potential. I was supremely confident in myself and in my ability to change the whole world. I felt mentally, intellectually, emotionally, inferior to no man. I became happiness incarnate. I was going to tear through all obstacles. Nothing would stop me from reaching my goal: the one task fate had chosen me—and only me—for, and that nobody else could do.
And then, in the summer of 2011, my self-actualization vanished as quickly as it had come. I did make some definite gains, to be sure; and I still remembered everything that happened to me. But I suddenly felt, in the worst possible sense of the word, normal. I thought I’d emerged from my psychological malaise as a completely new type of human being; but now, I found many of my old qualities returning—my laziness, my inhibitions, a whole spectrum of negative emotions. I was no longer a being of sheer happiness. I felt tossed out of my private psychological paradise, the gates shutting behind me, leaving me clawing at its threshold, desperately trying to get back in.
Looking back at those blissful one-and-a-half years, I’m still amazed at the tremendous potential temporarily unlocked in me—the acuity of my mind, the power of my intuition, and the ability to act effortlessly, confidently, spontaneously, in the face of all circumstances—a state of being I never before thought possible, and which I can hardly believe happened to me even now.
Shortly after my fall, having been banished from paradise, I embarked on an intellectual quest to discover what made me so different during those one-and-a-half years, a quest to find out what I’d really been like, and a quest to find my way back to that lost paradise—when I soared to the highest reaches of human potential, when the brightest happiness flowed exuberantly from my being, when my mind danced through the eternal universe with exultant ease. This book, and especially this first chapter, is the successful product of that quest—and, maybe, the start of yours. Enjoy.

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Emily has a happy, if simple, life. But when her childhood crush shows up, her well-ordered world turns upside down. Daniel’s life looks enviable from the outside, yet his brother’s involvement in a religious cult has broken his family’s heart. As Emily and Daniel begin to realize they have a lot more in common than they did as kids playing on the beach, an accident tests both their faith journeys. Can lessons learned through Emily’s past rekindle Daniel’s convictions and draw the two of them to each other?

Targeted Age Group:: young adult and adult

What Inspired You to Write Your Book?
I love romance! The idea for Emily and Daniel’s story came from a wedding I attended in which the bride and groom had, indeed, been childhood acquaintances who reconnected as adults. It was the kernel of a story that begged to be told! This is the first of seven romances to be written about fictional characters in this group in the “Vacation Friends” series.

How Did You Come up With Your Characters?
The challenges that the two main characters face are ones I’ve faced in life as well, including having a family member in a "high-influence organization," or cult. So my goal was to help the two find each other, and love, as they wrestled with those issues both individually and together.

Book Sample
Emily let out a long breath and rolled her neck in a slow circle, listening to the crinkling sounds it made. In her pocket, her cell phone vibrated against her hip, reminding her it was midnight.
“I’ve got to get some sleep.” She smiled weakly at Brandon as she gathered up her purse and jacket from underneath the welcome desk of the inn. It had been a sunny end-of-the-summer day when she had left her apartment that morning, but it would be cool now. “I have to be back again tomorrow morning at 8!”
Brandon put his arm around her waist and leaned in to kiss her, but they both jumped when the automatic double doors swished open. Emily breathed a small sigh of relief. She and Brandon had been dating for about two months, and he always seemed to be pushing things to move a little faster than she’d like.
A tall, lean man in a dark-grey suit that was clearly custom made walked through the entranceway wheeling a small black suitcase behind him. He had a black laptop case slung over one shoulder and was texting as he moved. His head was down, which meant that his short, carefully combed, light-brown hair was all Emily could see. Curious, she stood off to the side as Brandon stepped forward to the edge of the front counter to greet their guest.
The man was still texting, so Brandon waited patiently. The guest grunted at his phone and then looked up.
“Sorry,” the man said. “Daniel Caine.”
Emily gasped, and Daniel looked to where she was standing. She dropped her purse, ran to him, and threw her arms around her old friend.
“Danny!” she exclaimed, pulling back from her hug. “What are you doing here?”
“Emmy Steverman?” Daniel’s eyebrows rose. “Hey, I can’t believe you’re still here at the inn! I’m really late.” He shoved his phone into his front pants pocket. “I called ahead to ask when you were working, and I was going to surprise you. But I thought your shift was over at 7, and I got super held up at work. I figured I’d missed you.”
“I stayed an extra few hours to fill in for a woman who called in sick,” Emily explained. “How did you even know I worked here?”
Daniel grinned. “C’mon. My folks get your folks’ Christmas cards. The last one said you were working at a Pocono inn. I have a conference in Mount Pocono this week, and I didn’t feel like staying in the conference hotel.” He shrugged. “I called your mom, and she gave me the name of this place. And here I am at good old Sweet Fern Inn.” His smile grew mischievous. “But really, is there actually such a thing as a sweet fern?”

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Not everything is as it seems.

Sarah thought she was just another orphan left on a doorstep. She had a quiet life working as a secretary at the local printing company. One night changed everything. Now she is journeying to Zlorta to learn about her powers in the company of a man named Micheal. Though she has never seen his face, she feels compelled to follow him and explore the passion that burns between them.

Antony will stop at nothing to possess her and her powers. He sends his henchmen to attack and kidnap her. Micheal swears he will protect her with his life. But as she loses her heart to him, she finds that she must protect him. Will Sarah prevent Micheal’s death or will Antony make her his weapon?

If you love fantasy, romance, and adventure you will adore The Elementalist. Dive headlong into this new paranormal fantasy adventure romance about vampires, magic, fantasy creatures and a woman finding love in the arms of the man sworn to protect her.

Targeted Age Group:: 18+

What Inspired You to Write Your Book?
I originally wrote this story when I was in my twenties. It was after a nasty divorce and I had just started dating my current husband. Then my computer crashed. So now in my late thirties, the story wouldn't leave me alone. Thus was born The Elementalist.

How Did You Come up With Your Characters?
My characters just wrote themselves. I started writing and they just came out. Some of the minor characters were based on people I know.

Book Sample
I should run! Just take off into these woods. But where to? Back to Jason’s body on her kitchen floor. They would probably blame her for his death.
She saw that Micheal was watching her. She squared her shoulders and laid her hand against the saddle. As soon as he turned his back, she took off running. She made it to the trees before he caught her.
Damn, the big bastard was fast!
He threw her up over his shoulder. She landed on her stomach with a groan. The force of it knocking the air from her lungs.
“We can do this two ways. You walk on your own through the gate. Or I tie you to Lucifer’s saddle. Your choice, princess.”
She cried out and started beating her hands against his back. He sighed and slapped her bottom hard. She instantly stopped and thought about her options.
He smacked the back of her thighs and said, “One….. Two…”
“Fine, fine! I will walk.”
She felt the sting of his swats and held back tears. She had never been spanked or slapped in her life. It hurt.
“If I set you down, no running. You run again and I will tie you to that saddle. Then I will make you regret running. Those two swats will be minor in comparison.”
She swallowed hard and shook her head yes. He shrugged and bounced her on his shoulder.
“Words, princess. Use your words.”
“I will walk. I promise not to run. I swear.”
He set her down and placed her hand on the saddle. She struggled to keep back her tears. She felt like a disobedient child that had been caught in the act.

Links to Purchase Print Books
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