Teaser Tuesday with Renee Sherkness

Today’s Teaser Tuesday is from Author Renee Sherkness!

Enjoy & Comment!

From Stories That Come Alive Through Yoga: Chapter 1:
We begin and end all of our yoga practices with the word Namaste. Broadly translated, it means: the heart in me honors the heart in you. What better way to begin this book!

If I had to convey the essence of this work in a few words, they would be: stories to nurture the mind, the body, and the spirit. It provides a way to express to children and their parents, grandparents, teachers, and fitness instructors (or anyone, for that matter, who interacts with children between the ages of four and eleven years old) how to nurture the mind, body, and spirit through yoga. As a tool, it can help adults connect to children with whom they interact. It can also serve as a great resource for kids and adults by assisting them with staying healthy while having FUN!

Through the practice of yoga, this book can help adults similar to myself—who often become bogged down with the mundane in their everyday existence—enter a child’s world for the purpose of adult and child experiencing a happier, healthier, and more balanced life. The “gift” shared is not only one that is fun and entertaining, but one that is certain to become a memory you and
your child will cherish for a long, long time. Namaste!
From The Day Mother Nature Decided To Paint Her House: Chapter 4
……Not wanting to waste any time, Father Time began opening the doors of the rooms to be painted. Over and over, they heard a loud CRASH!  Not realizing that Mother Nature had placed a paint can behind each door, Father Time had knocked over every can of paint in the house! Paint spilled out everywhere! Trickling down through the floorboards and over the sky, gobs of paint landed on every treetop on Earth.

Mother Nature and Father Time looked down at Earth, dumbfounded! What had they done!  They were afraid to keep looking. But their fear soon turned to excitement…Autumn was created.
From Winston The Whale And The Blanket Of Darkness: Chapter 1:
Winston the whale marveled at the beauty of the sinking sun as it blanketed his ocean home with its shimmering rays. No matter how many times he saw the sun set on his home he never tired of its sight. The day was ending and he popped his head above water one last time, completing an enjoyable round of spyhopping for his captive audience aboard the whale watching cruiser. He joined the other humpback whales that had gathered, and together they watched as the cruiser left their home, grower smaller and smaller as it headed back to port.
Social media & Web links
Website for complete “Nurturing Nature” Collection and programs to extend your reading experience: http://reneesherkness.web.com/
Visit Home Education Magazine(HEM) and everythingmom.com for information on Nurturing Nature Collection of books
                                                                      
See Stories That Come Alive Through Yoga reviews at:www.yogawithjohn.com and
David Romanelli on www.LivinTheMoment.com
Purchase books in print and e book on Amazon.com, Barnes and Noble, Borders.com, and apple I pad. Visit web site for more information: http://reneesherkness.webs.com/

Teaser Tuesday with Lynn Rush

Today’s Teaser Tuesday is from Lynn Rush’s Ruined from Crescent Moon Press!

Enjoy & Comment!


Book Blurb:

Bound by the blood contract his human mother signed four centuries ago, half-demon, David Sadler, must obey his demonic Master’s order to capture fifteen-year-old Jessica Hanks. But as he learns more about her, he realizes she may be the key to freedom from his demonic enslavement.
The only obstacle—Jessica’s distractedly beautiful Guardian, Rebeka Abbott. He must not give in to their steamy chemistry, or he will lose his humanity. But fresh off a quarter millennia of sensory deprivation as punishment for not retrieving his last target, he may not be able to resist temptation long enough to save what’s left of his human soul.



Excerpt
Copyright © 2011 Lynn Rush
All rights reserved — a Crescent Moon Press publication
“One more dance?” She focused on me, her lips puckered out. “That song was half-way through, so it doesn’t count.”
“I should g-“
“Just one.”
She gathered me to her, flattening her breasts against my chest. So close she had to put one of her feet between mine so we could move. Her warmth seeped through her thin shirt into mine. Hunger for her forced the air from my lungs. The demon demanded to be let out.
“So, do you have a name?” Her minty breath washed over me, and I put my hands on her hips.
“What is yours?” I asked.
“Rebeka, but everyone calls me Beka.”
“You frequent this establishment?”
Her inner thigh skimmed my leg as she leaned into me more. My hold on her hips tightened, keeping her core from mine. The prickle of my demon sliced at my heart, urging me to pull her close. My heart pounded and body tightened. I couldn’t handle much more touching before I lost control.
“Yes. I’m here often.” She held my gaze. “Tell me your name.”
“I am David.”
We swayed in silence, her body dangerously close to mine, yet I absorbed every touch. I played with fire remaining in her embrace, but for unknown reasons, I dove in further.
“Where are you from, Beka?”
“Here. I was raised here. You?”
“Nowhere special. Passing through town.”
Her gaze inched down. “Just passing through? How long will you be here?”
“Not sure yet.”
Her teeth sank into her lip again.
I stiffened. That gesture with her mouth was too much. “I should be going now.”
“Will you be back?” She loosened her grip.
Frigid air seeped between us, and I wanted to pull her close again. She felt like heaven against me. “I might be.”
“Hope so.” She winked.
My gaze swept over her body, taking in the soft, delicate skin held captive by her tank top. With each breath her chest swelled. We hadn’t danced quickly, but she was winded.
A thin, black line of ink peeked out from behind her earlobe. The beginnings of a tattoo. Possibly marking her identity. Guardians bore a tattoo distinguishing them from humans. I drew in a breath, strengthening my resolve to remain in control, and cupped her cheek. She gasped and leaned into my hand like I’d hoped.
The fury of blazing heat streaming from her face in my grasp threatened to distract me. My pulse hammered. But I had to see the mark. A thin line followed the curve of her lobe and disappeared into the shadow behind her ear.
Her teeth grated her lip. Must be a nervous habit. But the action chipped at my resolve each time.
One quick taste.
I brought my other hand to her face, the side with the mark, and curled my fingers around her neck, moving my thumb behind her ear. Her hands cuffed my wrists, but not to push me away. Instead her stare bore into mine like a freight train. The flashing lights of the club bounced a coral, teal, and violet rainbow over her shimmering skin.
The people surrounding us blurred into oblivion, and the music faded into a storm of muffled pitches and tones.
I concentrated on her shining lips and took in the warmth of her body so close to mine. I wanted only the sense of touch to be awake while I reveled in the silky texture of her skin. For so long I’d touched nothing. If I was going to break my rules, I would enjoy it.
Her hands glided from my wrists down my forearms and up my biceps, sending a ripple of desire through my soul. I could resist no longer. I brushed my lips against hers and tasted melon. She heaved a sharp breath and clamped her fingers around my shoulders, holding me in place.
Scents of lilac permeated me. My heart hammered, and my demon pounded, wanting out.
Wanting her.
I turned my head, severing our connection. Too intense. Must stay in control. She let out a whimper. I pressed my mouth to her cheek and tilted her head.
I almost wished I hadn’t.
She bore the mark of a Guardian, immortal protectors of the humans.
I drank Beka in for three long breaths, knowing it may be my last chance to hold her close. Because if Beka truly was guarding Jessica Hanks I would more than likely have to kill her to get my Mark.

Short Bio:
Lynn Rush began her writing career in 2008. She has both an undergraduate and graduate degree in the mental health field and has enjoyed applying that unique knowledge to develop unique characters.
A former inline speed skater and mountain biker, Lynn has been known to test the limits of her athletic endurance. So, when she’s not writing, she spends time enjoying the Arizona sunshine by road biking nearly 100 miles per week with her husband of fifteen years and going on jogs with her loveable Shetland Sheep dogs.

Catch the Rush: www.lynnrush.com
Goodreads: http://bit.ly/k6NAZa  
Barnes and Noble: http://bit.ly/pbigOg
All Romance Ebooks: http://bit.ly/nujjjp
You Tube Trailer:  http://youtu.be/k-KRE1yMiNk 
        

Teaser Tuesday! Featuring Betty Carlton

Today’s Teaser Tuesday is with Betty Carlton!

Enjoy!

Betty Carlton is a relatively new writer. Haling from the southern USA. Betty lives with her husband and their faithfully stubborn beagle. She has written three novels at Sizzler Editions, Mine Alone, The Kincaid Way and His Fifteenth Victim. Also on Amazon she has a couple of self-published works. She writes what she calls “a different type of romance story, which has been referred to as dark and irresistible, but always a Happy Ending.” To repay the all the help and advice she received from other writers along the way Betty has started a blog called http://bettyandfriends-wip.blogspot.com/ where she showcases other authors and the new pieces they are working on.
Blurb:
His Fifteenth Victim: a story about Understanding.
Brad eliminated evil people. His fifteenth victim lined up in his scope’s cross hairs. The pieces did not fit and he needed to understand why.
Sandra would become his living victim instead, until all questions were answered. To save her life she needed to learn to trust him a hundred and ten percent. The easy way or the hard way he would see that she understood.
His Fifteenth Victim: a story about Forgiveness.
An accident results in a serious change of directions for them both. With new eyes, Brad discovers things making him question his own decisions about Sandra and himself. Is the one executing just or more evil than his targets? Who does the forgiving?
His Fifteenth Victim: a story about Love.
The excerpt:
Brad has already been paid and maneuvered Sandra’s roommate to be out of town for a few days, so no one would be missing her right a way. He has picked the spot. Hiding in the weeds he waits:
For most people today was a perfect May day. Sunny and warm a get outside and enjoy the weather day. He picked the spot. It would happen at the intersection of Stillmore Road and Valley Lane.
She would need to stop at the stop sign there before turning onto Valley Lane. It was Tuesday and today was her night to get off early. He could expect her between five and five-thirty.
Just in case, she was early, he already was kneeling in the bushes and watching the road. When two vehicles came and neither not bothered to stop, he wished for a moment he was a police officer and could dispense tickets.
The quietness agreed with him. When no more vehicles came the birds began to chirp to each other again. Ten minutes later not having moved a muscle, he heard a car as it sped up the road toward the stop sign. It gave no indication it intended to stop either. The squealing brakes surprised him. He thought maybe the driver did not know the road and the stop sign surprised him.
The cry of pain from an animal made him stand up. The fool driver had hit a dog and sped away.
What kind of low-life hurts an animal and not stop to help it.
There in the middle of the road a golden-haired dog lay dying. The poor dog’s body jerked a few times and flipped over dead. Before he could do anything another car came up the road. He ducked. It was her’s.
He placed the rifle and aimed. The sound of brakes squealing again filled the air as she slammed her brakes on. He heard the thump as she rolled over the dog’s body.
Through the rifle’s scope he watched her stop the car and get out. She walked back to the dog in the middle of the road. She went over and touched him. Brad could hear her start to cry.
Oh, doggy I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to hit you.
She apparently thought she was the one that killed the dog. And she began sobbing. She picked the dog up and stroked its head. She begged the dog’s forgiveness. Struggling to stand with her burden she walked to her car’s passenger door. The burden of the dog dead weight caused her to struggle, but finally she opened it. She placed the dog on the seat. When she stood back up: she was his.
The cross line of the scope was dead center. He had his shot. She sniffled. She still was crying. His finger cautiously let go of the trigger and he lowered the weapon. Something did not feel right. Moments later he watched her blue car turned right and moved down Stillmore Road out of sight.
He needed a new plan.
****
She never saw him. He followed her all day from the moment she left the apartment. While she drove to work, through her break, through lunch at the small diner on the corner, and through the trip home with the stop at the grocery stop where she purchased a rotisserie chicken for dinner, milk, and two rolls of toilet paper.
No, no, no. Come on you stupid car. She slammed her fist against the steering wheel as the vehicle slowed to a stop. She closed her eyes to block out the sea of red anger she felt as she continued to beat at the wheel.
Finally reason and balance returned. She was laughing at herself. Every one does it and it usually doesn’t do a thing. But, she did it anyway. Getting out she moved to the front of the car and raised the hood.
Yep, the motor’s still there. That statement was the total of her mechanical expertise. She knew an engine when she saw one.
Can I…
She screamed and turned. Then she burst out laughing.
I’m sorry, you startled me. I didn’t hear you come up. With heart still racing she eyed him up and down hoping he was friendly.