The opening salvo in my novel, Caught in Cross Seas, is a current hit by Miranda Lambert and Carrie Underwood, “Somethin’ Bad.” If there isn’t something bad about to happen in a romance novel, there is no story.

Ask most authors and they will tell you music has an important place in their writing process. Stephen King famously mentions in On Writing: A Memoir of the Craft how AC/DC, Guns N’ Roses, and Metallica play a part in the creation of his novels. Music is also an important element in my writing but in a different way. There isn’t a stereo on while I work, but a book soundtrack runs through my head while I’m crafting scenes and it’s almost always country.

My love of country music blossomed in the 80s with the rise of George Strait. When I decided to write a romance novel, the idea of using country music as a backdrop grabbed me and wouldn’t let go. The way women respond to male stars added credence to my choice to fashion a country music superstar for my hero, and Clay Masterson—Montana cowboy, singer, songwriter, and guitar genius—was created to star in my contemporary romance/mystery Caught in Cross Seas.

In the process of writing the novel, I watched and listened to interviews with the stars on GAC and Kix Brooks’s American Country Countdown and discovered I could do just about anything to Clay and someone in the music industry could say, “Something like that happened to me.” It’s been said that writers must be mean to their characters—put them through horrible situations, threaten their lives, and play with their hearts—so we can offer our readers a satisfying read with a happily-ever-after ending. Country music offered me an abundance of ideas and validated my own.
I listened to song lyrics too. Country music is all about stories and nearly every facet of the human condition has been expressed in a country song. The lyrics make you laugh, cry, want to take a drink, throw a punch, or stand and salute the flag. They made me want to write.

The book soundtrack mostly runs through my head, but I do mention artists in the story on occasion, and I’ll admit to blatant use of Trace Adkins’s “Ladies Love Country Boys” in the background of the bakery fan-attack scene. I couldn’t resist.

What songs make up the Caught in Cross Seas soundtrack? Here are a few of the most influential. Some are hits; some are album cuts. I’ve avoided spoilers.
Alan Jackson’s “Country Boy” hits the mark with his offer to help a damsel in distress mixed with some fun double entendre. In my story, Harlie Cates needs help and Clay is just the guy to offer it, as well as his heart.

After some missteps, altercations, and insecurities exposed, love begins, and Lady Antebellum’s “Can’t Take My Eyes off You” is a perfect mood setter for romance.

And where love begins, a black moment must try to end it. Lady Antebellum again offers the ideal vehicle for heartbreak with “As you Turn Away.” If this heart-wrenching breakup song doesn’t inspire an author to quickly write a make-up scene to stop the suffering, nothing will.

When it’s over and the bodies are buried, the bad guys are caught, and the wounded hearts are healing, our tortured heroes are ready to start life together. How about a little Louie Armstrong to send them on their way? He isn’t country but a legend transcending time and genre. I think his “What a Wonderful World” is a perfect way to say, The End.

But let’s not stop there. I have a bonus track. The second book in the Caught series will be released in October. Caught in the Spin stars Clay’s best friend, former bull rider Tom Black, and single mom Tallie Peters. And what song opens this book’s soundtrack? Trace Adkins’s powerful performance of “I Can’t Outrun You,” because Tom doesn’t know if he’s being haunted by the memory of a former love or by her ghost. Stay tuned!

Thank you for allowing me to hang out here today. I’d love to know if/how music plays a part in your writing or reading. I’ll be watching for your comments.

Sharleen Scott
Out West Press

Short blurb:
When country music superstar Clay Masterson finds his supposedly dead father, he wants to do two things: Buy dear ol’ dad a beer to thank him for being a great father for the ten minutes he spent at it, and kick his dad’s sorry butt to Montana to face an eighteen-year-old murder charge. Harlie Cates will try to stop him.
Happily ever after could be a problem for them.

Excerpt from Caught in Cross Seas
The bakery was located in the heart of Angel Beach, nestled between The Talbot Gallery and Beach Bum T-Shirts. Its façade was typical beach-town wood siding, grayed by saltwater mist. A sign in the window read: “Old-fashioned coffee—NO ESPRESSO—don’t even ask.” Espresso? He wouldn’t bother. A jingling bell announced his arrival. Inside, a hodgepodge of secondhand tables and chairs, painted soft blues and greens. Large display cases presented cookies, cakes, and desserts. Shelves of baked goods lined the walls and the unmanned deli counter was loaded with meats and cheeses. On the radio, moderate volume: Trace Adkins’ “Ladies Love Country Boys.” Clay bent to get a better look at the muffins on the bottom shelf and heard a female voice.

“It’s him, isn’t it? Grandma said we’d catch up if we hurried.”

Another voice giggled. “Oh yeah. I’d know him anywhere.”

Considering she recognized his backside, he didn’t take it as a positive thing. “Oh crap,” he muttered when he saw the cluster of excited young women reflected in the glass case. Unfortunately, some women loved country guys too much. He aimed for nonchalance, hoping they’d go away and leave him alone. No such luck. A finger tapped his shoulder; he turned and a woman screamed, “It’s him, it’s him!” Chaos exploded and Clay was forced against the bakery case by a wild pack of autograph-seeking fans. Before he could react, quick hands stole his glasses and baseball cap; both would probably sell on eBay by evening.

“Ladies! I can’t breathe! I’ll sign some autographs if you’ll back up some!” He felt a tug and heard a rip. Shocked, he realized they had hold of his blue chambray shirt and were tearing it into souvenir-sized pieces.

“Hey! This is a new shirt!” He sidestepped left and right as eager hands assaulted him from all directions like Thanksgiving diners pulling apart the turkey. “Let go, ouch! Come on, don’t do that!” He hissed when he heard the tear of fabric again and was worried he’d be standing there naked if he didn’t get away soon.

Bio:
Sharleen Scott writes contemporary romance/mystery/suspense and women’s fiction. Her debut novel, Caught in Cross Seas, was published in May 2014. Caught in the Spin, the second book in the series, is scheduled for release in the fall. Sharleen is a member of Romance Writers of America. Her former career as a travel agent introduced her to fascinating and romantic locales she could draw on for her books. Her present position as a rural mail carrier keeps her firmly planted in reality, a situation her imagination does its best to thwart. Sharleen lives in the beautiful Pacific Northwest with her husband, Brett, and their two college kids.

links:
www.sharleenscott.com
www.facebook.com/pages/Sharleen-Scott-author/670018299725749

Tyler’s maniacal driving, got them to Sadist in record time. He pulled up to the entrance and got out, quickly jogging around to her side to open the door. He held out a hand and she clasped it, stepping out onto the pavement in stiletto heels she threatened in the car to hammer into his head for being late.
As usual, he ignored her audacity.

And the violent threats.

She stood, noticing he hadn’t yet released her hand.

“Such a gentleman, Ty.”

He glanced at her full, high breasts, straining against the clingy, tight red tank top she wore.

“I don’t have to be.”

Lena laughed aloud, discreetly patting his crotch.

“Down, boy. Save it for when Sara takes your ass back. Again.”

“If you mention her one more time-” Tyler warned, instantly getting hard and full under her hands.

“Fine. I’ll quit. As long as I don’t hear shit about Blake.” Lena glared at him.

“Agreed.” Tyler reluctantly lifted his gaze from her chest, finally looking at her face.

“Why are you bitching about him anyway? You know you want him. So why act like you don’t?”

“Because it’s not necessary for us to rehash it,” She said, thru gritted teeth. “Now is there anything else you need to know, Matlock? And by the way, don’t think for a minute I’ve forgotten that you never actually explained anything about Danny or his divorce. Just an fyi.”

Tyler raised his eyebrow and didn’t say another word. He handed his keys to the valet and guided Lena to the back entrance.

Unfortunately, a few fans saw them, and as expected, started screaming. “Tyler, Tyler, Tyler, Tyler,” became their mantra, chanting and moving closer and closer to where they stood.

“Why am I friends with you again?” Lena sighed in annoyance.

Tyler gave her a disgusted look.

“Maybe if I gave you a reason to shut up, you’ll actually do it.”

She snorted. “Maybe you could try.”

He moved so he was directly facing her.

“Maybe I would succeed.”

She involuntarily took a step back and he filled in the space.

She suddenly felt incredibly small.

“Get out of my face, Ty.”

“Why?”

“I don’t need a reason why. Just…move.”

“Am I making you nervous?” He looked down at her, zeroing in on her lower lip caught between her teeth. It was fleshy and pink, with strawberry scented lip gloss. He resisted the urge to take a bite.

She was driving him nuts.

He licked his own full lips, as Lena watched in fascination. Then she reminded herself who she was with, her brow furrowing in annoyance.

He was driving her nuts.

Ty grinned at her. Damn him.

“No…but…your breath stinks. Yes. Your breath…has offended me.” She took another step back, using any excuse to move away from the natural heat of his body, which, she was horrified to discover, was causing her own body to do strange things.

Cheeks flushed? Check.

Nipples tightened? Without a doubt.

Wetness between legs? Absolutely.

Sheer panic at the revelation of Ty leaning in? Commenced.

Every warning bell in her body sounded off.

He was much too close.

In front of all of these people, he was actually going to kiss her.

Which was ironic. Because in the grand scheme of things, the minute Ty moved into her vicinity, everything and everyone around them faded, until all they saw…was each other.

They stood at the back entrance of the club, unaware of anyone else, when a baritone voice penetrated her senses.

“Am I interrupting?”

Slowly, Lena turned around to stare at what were always the strangest, most haunted, silvery grey eyes she had ever seen.

Her heart, perfectly balanced and safe within her chest, fell to the pit of her stomach with a resounding thud.

Of course, he was there.

That was how it went.

“Danny.” she sighed. “Fancy meeting you here.”

Give and Receive Series

Blurb: Young, talented, ambitious. Wild.
Three friends, who struggled for fortune and fame, have finally found themselves thrust into mega-stardom.
What is right if there is no wrong…
For Ty, Lena and Danny, they’re about to find out as they cross the boundaries from all things safe to an arena testing love, friendship and loyalty. An arena that’s forbidden, taboo…and oh so tempting.
They’re riding hard and fast in a world where sex, money, love and rock & roll are all a game of give & receive, where any wish can be granted if you just ask…
Open, honest and raw, this is a rare glimpse of what happens behind the fortune and the fame, beyond the limelight, past the adulation and acclaim.
Welcome…to the real.

Authors’ Bio:

Alisa Anderson
well…alisa did stuff and is still doing stuff. only now she has two boys crazy enuff to want her as their mommy. hey, at least she tried to warn them, so her job is done. she doesn’t like to capitalize, partially because she likes how lower case letters look visually, but mostly out of laziness. please don’t judge. it could be you. and she would say, hey. you’re alright, buddy. you’re ok in my book. now c’mere for a hug. the hug might be pushing it. air kiss? you are strangers, after all, with only a mutual love of poor grammar.

she lives for a world full of controllable anatomically correct, android men programmed to meet her specific feminine needs (wink, wink, nudge, nudge with a big waggle of the eyebrows). who look like the rock. and ian somerhalder. and idris elba. and that’s it she promises. variety. gotta have variety, right?

but alas…apparently that exists only in johanna lindsey’s genius mind. so until then, she enjoys her incredibly warped sense of humor. she reads tons of erotica and romantic, drippy goo that makes her heart go pitter patter. then she thought, hey. what, she said to herself. (softly, of course, so no one finds out she is indeed, 2 nuts short of a fruitcake) maybe you should write this stuff too. maybe someone will like it and maybe buy it. so she said, huh, you think? then she said, well…yeah, i wouldn’t have suggested it…(inserts sarcastic tone) and then she was like lose the attitude, ok? then she was all, would you just shut up and write, already? sheesh! and she did. 🙂

Does your mother know what you’re reading?

Alisa’s Website: www.houseofalisa.com
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/AlisaAndersonBooks
Twitter: https://twitter.com/bitchesbewritin
Blog: http://alisaanderson.wordpress.com/

Buy Links:
http://www.amazon.com/Give-Receive-Adult-Romance-Book-ebook/dp/B009I3RB3O

http://www.amazon.com/Give-Take-Adult-Romance-Receive-ebook/dp/B00CX7NWTE/ref=la_B009IEA6A8_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1408060308&sr=1-1

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Blurbs for “Twisted Love” 12 cases of love gone bad

It’s a chilling reality that homicide investigators know all too well: the last face most murder victims see is not that of a stranger, but of someone familiar.

The End of Autumn-To keep from paying child support for his three children, Rodney Williams, plots with his parents to kidnap his estranged wife, 25-year old Autumn, in broad daylight. This 2011 crime shocked the small community of Logan, Ohio.

Wolf in Sheep’s Clothing-In 2011, 53 year old Russell Strothers, and his teenage accomplice find their victims through Craigslist and strike with calculating and deadly force.

A Senseless Killing-This 2010 case uncovers how a 40 year old likable barmaid was lured to her death after she rejects her young admirers sexual advances.

The Death of Innocence-This 2011 murder case involved 4 year old Marcie Willis, and her evil stepmother 25 year old Cheryl, from the small bedroom community of The Plains, Ohio.

The Girl Not Forgotten-This cold case took 26 years to solve, but brought justice for 13-year-old Holly Buford, and put serial rapist, 40-year-old Stanley Snead, behind bars.

The Possession-When 29-year-old Valerie Harris severs the penis of her sexually abusive father, it makes national news in 2007.

Home Town Hero-When deaf students are murdered in the prestigious Rose Brick College of the Deaf in 2008, everyone is shocked when discovering the killer is one of their own.

The Spell Caster Murders-When 42 year old Fortune Teller Sally Vu and her 21-year-old daughter Veronica are discovered murdered and physically desecrated, in 2001, evidence points to revenge and a spell gone wrong.

All For the Family-In 2003, as a way to erase her 22-year-old husbands criminal past, 19 year old Molly Abbott devises a ghoulish and desperate strategy.

Thicker Than Water?-When 52 year old Kim Michaels is found dismembered inside her burned out home in 1996, officers find the crime more confusing than a jig saw puzzle.

Mail Order Murder-The last thing the beautiful Russian mail order bride Anna dreamed of in 2001, was being murdered by her controlling and older American husband.

Where’s Christopher?-When four year old Christopher Ellis goes missing, numerous excuses and an odd odor emanating from the backyard in 1991, raises eyebrows.

Excerpt from MAIL-ORDER MURDER

Few women find themselves in such a bizarre relationship, as did eighteen-year-old Anna Tonkov, a Russian native. Speaking minimal and badly broken English, the family expressed high expectations for their tall, voluptuous raven-haired daughter. Anna was the only child of senior and ailing parents, and her mother said she and her husband only wanted the best for her.

In a country where the average yearly income was three hundred dollars per person, Mr. and Mrs. Tonkov, believed that Anna’s future happiness lay with the United States.

Mrs. Tonkov recalled how Anna did not want to leave. It was the parents’ idea for her to be a mail-order bride. According to Mrs. Tonkov, Anna said, “‘what if I don’t find a husband? What if you and papa waste your money?’”

Mr. Tonkov recalled telling her daughter, that she was never a waste of their money. She was everything to them, and they wanted her to have everything America offered.

Mr. and Mrs. Tonkov then took Anna‘s photograph in a dress she had made, not like many of the other women posing for the magazine-loose women, half naked. “No good man wants them,” they said.

Anna was a lady, explained Mr. Tonkov-a good Christian girl. Hardworking and responsible. She was raised the right way, they both said.

In the spring of 2007, Anna became number M245 in a Russian mail-order catalog with a circulation of over twenty million viewers. The magazine was bursting with dozens of glossy, full-color photographs of young hopeful women, all looking for husbands to rescue them from their poverty, stricken and unhappy lives.

It was not long before Anna had her first letter from a perspective admirer. She returned to her small four-room home from her part-time job at a nearby bakery, and her glowing parents greeted her just inside the front door.

Mrs. Tonkov recalled how surprised Anna was when she saw her and her husband smiling. She then handed her daughter the pink envelope with trembling hands.

At first, Anna was afraid to open the letter, said Mr. Tonkov, but he told her it was from an American man. He said he and his wife watched as Anna read each word silently; her large dark eyes wide with anticipation. They said she was hesitant to respond to the sender. Maybe friendship would bloom. “If not you brush up on language skills,” said Mrs. Tonkov.

That made Anna laugh, recalled Mr. Tonkov. He still remembers her pretty laugh, “as if (she were) a small child without cares.”

Author Bio:

I have been a long-time resident of southeastern Ohio, and worked in the blue-collar industry most of my life. Besides having several novels under my belt, I canvas paint.
When not busy with hobbies or working outside the home, I spend time with relatives, my dogs Jasmine and Scooter, and volunteer my time within the community. I am a member of the International Women’s Writing Guild, Savvy Authors, Coffee Time Romance, Paranormal Romance Guild, True Romance Studios, National Writers Association, the Hocking Hill’s Arts and Craftsmen Association, The Hocking County Historical Society and Museum, and the Hocking Hills Regional Welcome Center. I believe in family values and following your dreams. My original canvas paintings, can be found at: http://www.booksandpaintingsbyjoanne.com

Three fun facts about Jo Anne:

1. What book influenced your writing? Black Beauty and Charlotte’s Web

2. What would your muse say about you? That I am quiet and shy

3. Do you have any other hobbies besides writing? I canvas paint

Other Available Books:

Murder Most Foul-a detective/mystery
Wicked Intentions– a paranormal anthology
Loves, Myths, and Monsters– a fantasy anthology
The Crime of the Century– a biography true crime
Poems About Life, Love, and Everything in Between

Upcoming Books:

Flagitious-a detective/mystery anthology

Other places to find Jo Anne and her books:

Email: joannemyers@frontier.com
http://amazon.com/author/joannemyers

Buy Link: http://www.blackrosewriting.com/other/twisted-love

From The Wicked Bargain –
BLURB –

London 1816

Haunted by a past as a sex slave, nobleman Ethan Warth returns to England as a male courtesan for rich matrons and runs a brothel for wealthy lords. Arabella Covington appears on his door, trained in the medical arts but unable to practice because of her gender. He hires her to care for his ladies but her inquisitive nature and beauty make him desire to teach her the world of seduction.

Ethan, however, never counted on falling in love…

EXCERPT

“Am I interrupting something?” A sultry male voice asked from across the room.

Arabella’s heart jumped, thudding harder as she pulled her hand back up. Thankfully, her back faced the door. She heard his bare feet padding across the floor to her. Quickly she dropped the book on the table below her and picked up the translation of Galen’s book of medical thesis. She pasted a bland look on her face and tried to force her body to relax against the mayhem of passion, heat, and desire stirring within it.

Turning toward him she tried to present a bored soul. “No your lord, I was just looking for a book to read.”

He laughed as he stood before her in a black silk dressing robe. His chest was exposed at the neck and the garment wasn’t long enough to cover his bare wrists or his naked feet. His eyes viewed her with candor, sparkling, and a half-cocked smile on his face. “Can’t sleep?”

Her face flooded with heat. Turning away to take a seat in the arm-backed chair with the Galen text she replied, “No, I took a long nap this afternoon.”

He chuckled and walked to the table where the other volumes sat. On top was the book she had been engrossed in when he arrived. She tensed, focusing harder on the line in the book in front of her she still hadn’t read. Almost rejoicing when he moved past the table to the sideboard, she burrowed deeper in the chair.

“Here,” he prodded, handing her a glass of red wine.

She peered up at him.

He sat across from her. The robe gaped at his chest as he sat and she found herself staring at his defined muscles. She blinked to break her view and delved back into the book.

He sat there quietly, drinking the wine. She felt his eyes on her. Why was he down here? With a sinister thought, she couldn’t resist the urge to say, “You just left your company to come here for a glass of wine?”

He smiled that dazzling, devilish grin of his, his dimples on display and mischievous all at once. “No, she had to leave.”

“Really? Enough rutting for tonight?” The moment the words left her mouth, she almost choked. Her body was still too hungry, needy, and it wrapped her sensibilities up.

Ethan laughed. “Sweeting, I can never have enough. I love what I do.”

Her body wanted more than his eyes on her. That thought made electric sparks travel through her. Whatever was wrong with her?

“Have you no morals?” she blurted, wondering where hers might go if she stayed here, alone with him.

One eyebrow lifted. Silence filled the space.

Setting her wine glass down on the side table, she slammed the book shut and rose to replace it. The man aggravated her. Then she heard the silk robe swish as he stood. Refusing to turn, she scanned the book titles before her on the shelf but she knew he stood behind her. His body radiated heat that wrapped around her.

“Ari,” he said quietly, almost a whisper. “Don’t be mad at me. I do what I must to survive.” That seductive voice caressed her ears. Her heart skipped a beat. “Just like you do or you wouldn’t be here, with me.”

The air grew dense and she couldn’t breathe. Desperately, she struggled to calm her erratic nerves.

“Why did you leave your home?”

What was she to tell him? The truth? Or what he wanted to hear?

“I needed to.” Close enough. “I had nowhere else to go but here,” she stated flatly.

“What of your aunt?”

She swung around, her nerves fraying as he stood right before her. Way too close for comfort.

“My aunt was not in a position to help me outside giving me a letter for you and your address. My cousin, he—” her heart thudded. “I just needed to leave and I can never return there.” All her options of surviving at Ethan’s narrowed if he continued to be this close to her.

He stood silently, his gaze slowly rising to her night cap.

“Why do you wear that preposterous thing?” His hand reached up and pulled it off her head. Her mussed braid fell over her shoulder. Her breathing hitched and her body froze, unable to move from those mesmerizing eyes of his and the lilt of his smile as it spread across his face.

Author bio –

Born in St. Louis, Missouri, Gina Danna has spent the better part of her life reading. History has been her love and she spent numerous hours devouring historical romance stories, dreaming of writing one of her own. Years later, after receiving undergraduate and graduate degrees in History, writing academic research papers and writing for museum programs and events, she finally found the time to write her own stories of historical romantic fiction.

Now, under the supervision of her three dogs and three cats, she writes amid a library of research books, with her only true break away is to spend time with her other life long dream – her Arabian horse – with him, her muse can play.

Right now I’m working on finishing up the fourth in the Novels of Aleyne series, a book that as yet has no title. I’ve been calling it Rob’s Book, after the main character, Rob Walker. Now, since I’m nearing the time when I plan to submit it, I have to find a real title for it.

The title for the first novel, Relocated, came to me without too much difficulty. As to the next two, the working title for Geek Games was Martin’s Book and the working title for Broken Bonds was Brad’s Book. No trouble with the working titles – I simply name them after the main characters. Now, however, it’s time to brainstorm the real deal.

This book is the longest one so far, over 80,000 words, and centers around the conflict between the Aleynis and the Terran Federation. The treaty between the two is up for renewal. The Aleynis want to boot the Terrans off their planet and take back the control of the space station and the military base the Federation maintains on Aleyne. The Federation needs to keep control of the space station, as it’s the only transit point between Terra – Earth to those of us who have never been off the planet – and the Outer Planets.

Colonel Robert Walker is the man who arrested Brad Reynolds for treason in Broken Bonds. In the new novel, we meet him as he’s having Brad arrested and taken to New Oregon for trial. Rob is left to head the base on the planet. He learns he’s been made responsible for the successful conclusion of the treaty negotiations. Prospects for success appear dim, as neither side is willing to compromise. If he fails, the resulting conflict could well destroy both sides.

In addition to his political troubles, Rob is in a troubled marriage to two women. He’s in love with his best friend, Captain Reuben Tyler, a fellow Belan. Reuben loves Rob, and is frustrated by Rob’s failure to acknowledge his feelings – even to himself.

Rob has his hands full. And so do I. Time to pick a real title. Do I go with Rob’s Dilemma or will I pick something else? Stay tuned.

Bio:

Born and raised in New York City, Margaret Fieland has been around art and music all her life. Her poems and stories have appeared in journals such as Turbulence Magazine, Front Range Review, and All Rights Reserved. She is one of the Poetic Muselings. Their poetry anthology, Lifelines, was published by Inkspotter Publishing in November, 2011. She is the author of Relocated, Geek Games, and Broken Bonds, published by MuseItUp Publishing , and of Sand in the Desert, a collection of science fiction persona poems. A chapter book is due out later this year.

Here’s the blurb for Broken Bonds, the previous novel in the series:

Broken Bonds

Sex with aliens? How about romance with aliens? A treason accusation? Brad Reynolds has his hands full. When Major Brad Reynolds is assigned to head the Terran Federation base on planet Aleyne, the last thing he expects to find is love, and certainly not with one of the alien Aleyni. How can he keep his lover, in the face of political maneuvering and of Ardaval’s feelings for his former partners — and theirs for him?

Excerpt (PG):

Brad took a deep breath of cool night air, inhaling the nutmeg scent of the flowers planted around Ardaval’s front door. Before Brad could knock, the door opened and Ardaval stood in the doorway. Brad hesitated before putting out his hands palm up.

Ardaval placed his hands over Brad’s. “My heart, my home, my hearth.”

“My hearth, my home, my heart,” Brad murmured in response.

Smiling, Ardaval directed his gaze at Brad’s eyes; it evoked the same curious flutter in the pit of his stomach as the last time they’d met. Ardaval held open the door and gestured for Brad to enter. “You’ve come to discuss Gavin.”

“I have.” Brad followed Ardaval into the front hall where tiles of local stone sparkled on the floor and a padded bench stood under a window. Through a doorway on one side, a glance revealed a kitchen furnished with dark wood cabinets, clean and a bit bare.

“Come.” Ardaval gestured toward the back of the hallway where a doorway led into a center courtyard, open to the cool night air, and motioned to a small table. A red-leafed tree in the center spread its leaves overhead. Brad sat, and Ardaval sat beside him.

Brad needed to talk about Gavin Frey’s political views. Views that, as far as he could tell from the records, were the opposite of his own. A breath brought him the scent of Ardaval’s skin, musky, with a hint of clove. Was it duty or cowardice keeping him from reaching for Ardaval’s hand and kissing the palm?

Ardaval clasped Brad’s hand in his. “Tell me more about why you were posted to Aleyne.”

Should he remove his hand? No. He enjoyed Ardaval’s touch and what was the harm, really? When he glanced up, he found Ardaval regarding him with evident amusement.

“I recommended that a man who used psi to save his squad be given a dishonorable discharge.” Brad hesitated. “Although the soldier deserved a medal rather than a court martial, he was a fool to admit he caught a thought.”

Ardaval nodded.

“About Gavin Frey. Is he your shan?” The thoughts slipped out.

Ardaval stared into Brad’s eyes for a a second or two before he replied. “As you surmise, he is my son; my shan, because I didn’t raise him.”

Might as well ask this, too. “His mother never told you about him?”

Ardaval shook his head. “No, she didn’t. He spent six months here after she died. Then we disagreed over a matter of ethical principal and he left.”

Given what he understood about Frey, Brad would have been surprised if they hadn’t.

“He married, but his wife died. He has a son who is now fourteen by Terran Standard years.”

“His mother possessed a strong psi talent.”

“She contacted you?” Brad’s eyebrows rose to his hairline.

“She did. I suggest you keep an eye on the boy.”

“Do you believe he has gazal?” If the boy developed Aleyni mind speech abilities, he’d need careful watching. Brad’s own family had been fairly accepting but how would Frey react if he discovered his son possessed gazal? And what about the terrorists, who might try to exploit Keth’s talent?

Ardaval nodded. “I do, though of course we’ve never met. Gavin doesn’t, or at least if he does, he keeps his mind so locked down it’s the same thing.”

Brad sighed and rose. He’d completed what he’d said he’d come to do.

“It happens this way with us, at times.” Ardaval paused for a moment. “We’ll meet again.”

Brad turned to leave. He couldn’t ignore this connection, wish it away, any longer. Only Ardaval’s assurance kept him moving out the door.

Publisher’s website:
http://museituppublishing.com/bookstore/index.php/new-releases/broken-bonds-detail

Amazon:
http://www.amazon.com/Broken-Bonds-Novels-Aleyne-ebook/dp/B00E5SGVSS/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1374851946&sr=1-1

Barnes and Noble:
http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/broken-bonds-margaret-fieland/1116214695?ean=2940148784913
Bookstrand: http://www.bookstrand.com/broken-bonds

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