Monday, February 29, 2016

Janie Franz in the #EggcerptExchange of Refrain

Refrain (The Lost Song Trilogy, Book 2, and Book 5 in the Bowdancer series)


Janie Franz



As Jan-nell, her son Bearin, the sensuous hunter Bekar, and trackfinder Chandro continue their quest for the lost song, they make alliances with the virile dark-skinned sword dancers, who serve as bodyguards to a king, and the exotic, handsome beast trainers of the desert. Jan-nell is beset with jealousies, new sexual stirrings, deepening spiritual practices, and a growing bond with one of her companions.



While she sat musing, tents had begun reaching to the sky. The purple tent of the Goiya rose first in the center of the camp. Smaller white silk tents like the one she had slept in the night before and plain tan-colored ones sprouted up like toadstools after rain. The smell of wood smoke from cookfires filled her nose, and the whinnying of the horses picketed on the edge of camp drifted to her ears. The jingle of harness behind her was part of the weaving of the music of the camp. Jan-nell sat content for the first time since she had become a part of the caravan.


A stream of rapid words in the Goiya’s language came from the front end of the wagon. She looked to see the driver approaching her side. He stood and yelled up at her, the register of his words getting higher and louder. He gestured wildly with one arm toward the camp. His movements were so forceful the hood of his tunic fell back. He was perhaps fifty summers, with a fat black mustache flecked with gray like his short-cropped hair. His nose was big and hooked like those of the Goiya’s men sent to Hill City to prepare the way for trading.


Jan-nell grew concerned that the man might overexert himself and fall into a swoon if he continued to excite himself in the heat. But she had been told to stay where she was—or was that what the sword dancer meant? He said he would come when the caravan made camp. But did that mean she was to stay in the wagon?


The old man worked his way around to the open end of the cart and continued to yell and gesture. She was sure his loud voice would draw attention to her, so she rose and made her way to the small fold-down step at the back.

Before she had her foot securely on the step, the old man grabbed her arm and propelled her to the ground. She fell hard on her right shoulder and her hip. A sharp pain coursed through her, making her stomach turn over.


Though she was outside, the man continued to yell, his anger growing instead of lessening. She feared he would kick her and raised an arm to ward off any blows. Her own hood fell away as she looked up at him.


The old man choked on his words and made an intricate warding gesture. In any culture, it was unmistakable. Jan-nell had seen it often enough done by villagers and townsfolk when they heard her quick-witted daughter speak in full thoughts when she could barely walk. She wondered what he saw to cause him to need protection against evil. Then she remembered everyone here had dark eyes and hers were green.


Jan-nell pushed herself up into a sitting position to relieve the pressure on her hip. Pulling her hood back over her head, she had no desire to provoke the man further. She rubbed her shoulder, feeling with skilled fingers to see if there was more injury than just bruising. Rotating her shoulder, she was satisfied she would only bear an ugly bruise. Her hip, however, had taken more of the fall. She put her feet under her and was attempting to stand when she heard someone rushing toward them, calling out to the man, who answered with a stream of explanation. Wanting only to slink away from watching eyes, Jan-nell concentrated on getting to her feet.


Hissing through her teeth, Jan-nell stood and began to feel her hip. She lifted the foot of the affected limb and bent her knee. She moved everything around. It pained her as she moved and was worse when she put her weight on it, but it was not broken. She started limping away, wanting to get as far as she could from wagons and people, even from the horses. The exchange of foreign words continued as she made her way around the wagon, gripping it for support, and headed for the edge of the camp.


Stopping at the front of the wagon, she wondered how she would be able to walk away on her own. She wished for her staff, but it was somewhere packed away with her belongings, and she was not permitted to use it here. She took a deep breath and resigned herself to do what she had to do to escape. She took a few painful steps, unable to suppress her grunts of pain as someone came up behind her. She half spun on her good leg, and dropped into an awkward and painful combat stance, fully realizing that, without her staff, she had no skills to protect herself.


A familiar voice said, “Peace.”



Buy Links







Interview Questions—Bearin

1. Job: Bekar told me what a job was. You mean what am I suited for. I am in training. I think I have been in training all my life. Bekar has been teaching me how to be a master hunter and trackfinder, even though I am not a woman like her. I am now training with her as a sword dancer.

2. Birthplace: I was born in the village of the Warrior Women, though they hate being called that. Because I am male, I had to be raised away from them. My sister is a healer and midwife in the village. She has apprentices I’m told. I wish to meet her one day.

3. Currently residing: I live with my father Khrin who is a bard. He built us a fine home outside of his village, at the foot of the Warrior Women’s mountain. Mother did not wish to live inside their village. She wanted her house to be at the edge of the fields. I think she misses the plains where the horsemen lived where she had been the Bowdancer.

4. Significant other: You mean a wife? I am too young yet to marry, according to Mother and Beker, especially. Father, though, sees nothing unusual in Granddame, his mother, finding a wife for me. I do not wish to marry yet, and definitely none of the village girls. Their heads are full of fluff. I wish to find a strong, quick-witted woman like Mother or Bekar. For now though, I must train. There are also many new places to see in this world and new people and customs to experience.

5. Most important goal: We must find where the Warrior Women came from and answer many new questions.




About Janie Franz

Janie Franz comes from a long line of Southern liars and storytellers. She told  other people’s stories as a freelance journalist for many years. With Texas wedding DJ, Bill Cox, she co-wrote The Ultimate Wedding Ceremony Book and The Ultimate Wedding Reception Book, and then self-published a writing manual, Freelance Writing: It’s a Business, Stupid!  She also published an online music publication, was an agent/publicist for a groove/funk band, a radio announcer, and a yoga/relaxation instructor.


Currently, she is writing her tweveth novel and a self-help book, Starting Over: Becoming a Woman of Power.


Thanks for stopping by,




Saturday, February 27, 2016

#EggcerptExchange @PJMacLayne Wolves' Knight

Interview with Dot Lapahie of Wolves' Pawn and Wolves' Knight



1. What's your nickname?

            Dot is my nickname. Legally I am Maria Dorothy Winters, but I've also used McKenzie as my last name because that was my stepfather's name. I currently use the last name Lapahie to honor my ancestors. I've used a variety of combinations of all those names at various points in my life


2. What's your job?

            I've done a variety of jobs in my life—everything from being a dishwasher and waitress, to being a character actor at an amusement park. Now, I'm CEO pf Lapahie Enterprises, a software company, and the head of the Board of Directors of Lapahie training school for Free Wolves. The school is funded by the profits of the company. It provides training for mostly young shifters who've left their packs and need a safe place to get ready to be successful in the human world.


3. Tell the readers about your significant other.

            I'm mated to Gavin Fairwood, the alpha of the Fairwood pack. He's as handsome as they come, and I guess it was love at first sight, although it took me far too long to admit it. What I admire about him is his ability to take down an enemy in battle to protect the pack and in the next moment get all teddy-bear cuddly holding one of the babies of the pack. Maybe one of these days I'll be able to give him his own son or daughter. He'll be a great father.


4. What's your most important goal?

            I'd like to expand the school into new areas of study. Right now it's focused on basic education and computer-related skills. Everything from hardware support to networking to coding. I'd like to be able to give the students more options. Maybe start offering carpentry and other building skills. But that's a few years down the road.



5. Are you wealthy, poor, or somewhere in between?

            I guess technically I'm wealthy, although all of my profits from Lapahie Enterprises go to support the school. But Gavin has plenty of money, so I don't have to worry about it. It seems strange to be able to say that, because there were many times when I'd go without real meals for several days in a row. Other days when whatever I earned in tips was barely enough to put gas in my bike. I still haven't adjusted to being able to buy what I need without figuring out where the money is going to come from.


Wolves’ Knight Blurb:



Tasha Roeper knows what it means to protect your own. So when her friend, Dot Lapahie, CEO of Lapahie Enterprises, suspects that the Free Wolves are under attack, Tasha immediately signs on to lead the investigation and guard Dot.

But Tasha's not convinced it's the Free Wolves that are the target. She fears that her own pack—the Fairwood Pack—are the actual quarry and Dot is only a decoy.

The deeper Tasha digs, the more puzzles she uncovers.

Torn between tradition and a changing world, will Tasha risk everything to save a friend—including her own life—when old enemies arise?





Her tactical knife slid easily from its ankle sheath. With a curse, Tasha leaped out of the leather chair and slid across the wooden conference table, praying she'd make it in time. No matter how she played it, she couldn’t stop the masked, gun-wielding intruder from shooting. Shifting to wolf form would allow her to spring on her prey, but the time it took to make the change gave him the opportunity to fire. No, her human body would have to stop the bullet before it struck Dot.

A fraction of a heartbeat later, feet firmly planted on the floor, she sensed another body skid in next to her, creating a larger barrier. Some of the board members stood, one appeared frozen in place, and one started to shift to what appeared to be a badger. Tasha sniffed, trying to figure out who had joined her without taking her eyes off the intruder. A female. Hopefully, a fellow warrior.

She bent her knees, shifted her weight to the balls of her feet, and adjusted her grip. A flick of her wrist and the knife would sail down the length of the table. As she tightened her muscles to make the throw, the interloper laughed and tossed his revolver onto the table. The gun was followed by the mask.

“I wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t seen it,” said the young man who was revealed.  With a broad smile, he added “You called that one correctly, Miss Lapahie.”

As soon as Tasha realized he was no longer a threat, she relaxed and dismissed him from her mind. Granted, he was good-looking in a boyish sort of way, but shifter men tended to be attractive, and he didn't rank as anything special. She liked her men battle-tested and experience told her he didn't qualify.



Purchase links:


Author Bio: Born and raised among the rolling hills of western Pennsylvania, P.J. MacLayne still finds inspiration for her books in that landscape. She is a computer geek by day and a writer by night who currently lives in the shadow of the Rocky Mountains. When she's not in front of a computer screen, she might be found exploring the back roads of the nearby national forests and parks. In addition to the Free Wolves’ stories, she is also the author of the Oak Grove mystery series.  P.J. MacLayne can be reached on:





 Thanks for being a guest and sharing your book,



Friday, February 26, 2016

Suspicious Minds by Kim Cox #EggcerptExchange #romanticsuspense

Suspicious Minds

A Romantic Suspense Novel


Revenge, Betrayal, and Hidden Identity

In the city of Boston lies a story of revenge and hidden identity. Ryan Donatelli, posing as Thomas Randolph, sets out to avenge his sister's death, even if it means using Sam Southard's daughter to do it. After all, Ryan is sure Sam's responsible.

Natalie Southard is determined to keep her family business out of the hands of known crime boss, Nick DeMarco. After her father is killed, Natalie and Ryan are forced to run for their lives. But, will they live long enough for their hearts to heal once everything is revealed?

Genres: Romance / Romantic Suspense / Romantic Thriller 



"Is that her?" Detective Walsh asked, talking around the wad of gum in his mouth.

Ryan Donatelli tugged at the neck of his old football jersey while he looked everywhere but at the body on the steel examination table. The morgue walls were closing in on him. "I don't know." Even to him, his voice sounded tinny and far off. "Shelley's small, but this woman seems much smaller. It's hard to say." The obvious resemblance struck him, but he looked for any reason he could to deny it.

"Dehydration from the burns," the gray-haired coroner said. "It changes the facial appearance."

Ryan glanced up and noticed the older man's immense nose and his astonishing resemblance to the comedian and singer, Jimmy Durante.

The detective shrugged. "Well, if you can't be sure, I guess we'll just have to— Wait a minute! What about this?" Walsh removed a small envelope from his jacket pocket and extracted a plastic bag containing a necklace that had been tagged for evidence.

Ryan's stomach spasmed. Acid scorched his throat. Every conscious thought screamed denial, yet his trembling hand reached for the bag. Under the fluorescent lights, the ruby pendant glowed like a hot ember. He squeezed it in his palm, trying to feel its pulsing warmth—like the warmth of Shelley's smile.

Oh, God! It was as cold as the body on the table.

"You okay?" The detective's voice was muffled.

Ryan wanted to laugh at the stupidity of the question, but at this moment, mirth was a foreign emotion to him.

With his index finger, he traced the outline of the small stone before turning it over to read the inscription he knew he would find. Unshed tears blurred his vision, but there it was. Happy B-day, Love, R.

"It's Shelley," he said and turned away. He could no longer deny the evident truth, or hang onto the tiniest thread of hope that this was a terrible mistake.

Sweet, stubborn Shelley, his baby sister. She'd never argue politics, movies or anything mundane as the weather again. Shelley loved to challenge him. She'd made him think in new ways and consider new options. What would he do without her?

Teaser Scene

...He sipped his drink, noticing her eyes shifting from one object to the other. The love seat and chair with its own ottoman matched the ivory couch. A blue-and-crimson oriental rug dominated the living room floor. Sheer white curtains covered the double glass doors leading to the dining room with a black lacquered table and chairs.

"Do you like the house?"

"Yes, it's beautiful...lovely," she said, touching his arm.

"Thank you, but I can't take the credit. My mother redecorated it last year." Ryan looked around as if viewing it for the first time himself.

"I'd love to meet your mother. She has exquisite taste."

"I have to agree. Maybe one day you will. And, if you're good, I may take you on the grand tour of the place." Ryan's face drifted close to hers. He found himself not wanting to carry on the conversation any longer. His mind was far from words at the moment.

Her black hair, like her eyes, sparkled in the light. His skin beneath the sleeve of his shirt burned where the tips of her fingers touched. She smelled like freshly cut gardenias from his grandmother's greenhouse. Her voice sounded like an angel's song.

All he thought of was kissing her. He wanted to taste her sensuous pink lips and hold her in his arms until she begged for more.

As if his thoughts scared her, she turned away.

"I-I'd be privileged to see it."

Did she feel the electricity sparking between them, too? Did she hunger for him the way he hungered for her?

He felt her uncertainty as clearly he did his own. Finally, she looked at him, and he could see the passion burning in her green eyes, and knew it was mirrored by his own. The window behind Natalie flashed with light. Their gazes clashed as the weather outside changed to a darkened, cloud-studded night. Wind whipped the bay into a frenzy of waves that slammed onto the beach behind the house.

The rumbling of thunder startled Natalie and she jumped into his arms. Her breast pushed against his chest and his defenses crumbled. His mouth covered hers as a hungry moan escaped his lips. She wrapped her arms around him, returning his kiss. He'd imagined her kiss to be sweet and full of passion, and his imagination was right on target...

Scheduled for re-release March 15, 2016 – Amazon Author Page:

About Kim Cox

Kim Cox is an author of Paranormal, Mystery, Suspense and Romance. She lives in the Blue Ridge Mountains of North Carolina with her chain saw artist husband, their West Highland White Terriers--Scooter and Harley, and a Yorkie mix, Candi. Kim is published in novels, short stories and articles. 

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 Thanks Kim for stopping by,