Winners!

Thanks to everyone who entered my giveaway! I hope you’ve been enjoying reading Shifting Into Love First Gear throughout the giveaway. I know I’ve thrown some readers for a loop by switching to a fantasy type genre since my other stories are contemporary. If you’re unsure about Shifting Into Love still, send me an email to evelynaster@aol.com and I’ll send an Amazon Kindle copy to the first 5 people. No strings attached. No reviews expected. I just want you to give the story a try.

Also, for all of you new to my site, The Beautician and the Billionaire Episode 1: The Deal is ALWAYS free at all vendors. Today at All Romance, The Beautician and the Billionaire Episode 1-4 is still free until 11:59 CDT.

Be sure to follow me to keep up to date on new releases and giveaways! Not to mention coffee and nails 🙂

And now the winners of $10 Amazon Gift Cards are:

Juana E.

Michelle W.

Deborah C.

https://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/5cd1a1f17/?

I’ve already emailed the gift cards so please LMK when you get them!

xoxoxx,

Evelyn (evelynaster@aol.com)

The Real Neat Blogger Award

Happy Fourth! To celebrate, my latest release Shifting Into Love is only $0.50 at All Romance. I feel it’s this close to being a best seller there. Please go buy it! Remember, I’m NOT posting the whole story on my blog.

Also, be sure to follow me and enter my giveaway!

I received the Real Neat Blogger Award! It’s my first blog award ever, so I’m very happy.

The Rules:

    • Thank and link the blogger that nominated you.
    • Answer the 7 questions that the nomination has provided you.
    • Create 7 questions for your nominees.
    • Nominate 7 other bloggers.
    • Bend said rules

Thank you to Susan Voss at Dab of Darkness for nominating me! I’m a private person so answering these questions was hard. I hope you enjoy them.

If you could be an extra on a period piece (Outlander, Spartacus, etc.) what would it be and what would you be doing? I’d like to be on The Black Adder series as a maid who had some sort of running gag throughout all of the time periods the series covers. I’m not picky about the running gag…a one liner, tripping or some other physical comedy ant an important moment, and then I disappear 🙂

What makes you cringe? When I’m reading a book and the same word is typed wrong over and over. I’m currently reading a popular indie author and she refuses to capitalize Scotch when referring to Scotch whiskey.

What’s the most interesting gross fact you know? I try to avoid gross stuff so my fact is pretty boring: Flies frequently vomit when they land.

It’s time for you to host the book club. Who do you invite (living, dead, fictional, real)? And what 3 books will you be discussing? Living: My editor, my publicist and Holly Jennings. Dead: Dauphne du Maurier, Margaret Mitchell, Arthur C. Clarke. Three books: Arena by Holly Jennings, Twilight by Stephanie Meyers and Masked Hearts by me. I know Holly Jennings through the internet and think it would be really cool to discuss Arena with her. Having Arthur C. Clarke there would be interesting to hear his thoughts not only on her book, but also on where the genre of science fiction is going. Daphne du Maurier is one of my favorite authors. I would love to have a discussion with her about style. It would be really interesting to listen to du Maurier and Mitchell talk about Twilight —what’s derivative of their own works, what’s interesting, what do they like about, the plotting and what doesn’t work at all. And then how could I resist hearing opinions about my own book 🙂

If you had to choose someone to rescue you from the jaws of certain death would it be a superhero, supernatural creature, or a space alien? It would be a dragon who could shape shift into a person. I’m quite fond of dragons 🙂

If you could, what book/movie/TV series would you like to experience for the first time all over again and why? I wish I could read again without my writer filter being on. When I read now, I’m looking for style, plotting, character growth, etc. I get easily annoyed with authors I think aren’t working hard enough on their craft. I wish I could just sit back and let it go.

If everyone came with warning labels, what would yours say? I’m not upset; I’m just thinking about a story.” I must frown when I’m in deep thought because I often get asked “Are you okay?” when I’m trying to plot out a story. I also stare off into space which is not as socially acceptable as staring at a computer screen or piece of paper so I think it’s disconcerting.

My nominations: Holly Jennings, Stacey is Sassy, Romance Novels for the Beach, Inspector Gorgeous, All Romance Reads, Lynn Thayler, Love Serially.

My questions:

What coffee/espresso drink best describes you?

If you were getting ready for a hot date and ran out of time, would you focus more on hair or nails?

Who’s your favorite book boyfriend?

Who’s your favorite hero type: billionaire, cop, cowboy, dragon, elf…etc?

What book do you love that everyone hates or what book do you hate that everyone loves?

Are you excited about the Gilmore Girls reunion or are you more like “Gilmore who?”

Share your favorite recipe.

Thanks again Susan for the shout out!

 

 

Weekend Inspiration

Yay, it’s Saturday! This was a full week. I mentioned on Monday that I had interviewed for a choir director job. This is not me giving up on writing full time; this is me being practical about money realities. I’m happy because I spent the week leading music activities at the church as a volunteer, and I still got Shifting Into Love off to my editor. If I get the job, I’m confident I will still be able to get my writing done. Continue reading

Shifting into Love Part 2

Samantha pulled herself up to her full height, swung her head so her blonde hair fell behind her shoulder and ignored her phone. Her sister had been the one to leave, and if she were making a play for Harrigans now, Samantha would fight it. She shrugged out of the stranger’s grip and turned to greet him, ready to know what he needed—how the bar could serve him.

Her mouth fell open when her eyes met his—brown like rich soil and completely blocking his soul. She had no insight into his desires or needs like she did every other person in the bar. It made her stagger back and balance herself with the pool cue. He reached out and caught her by the elbow too. Her phone quit ringing.

“Hey, are you okay?” he asked. Bangs fell over one eyebrow in a boyish manner, but his voice resonated with deep tones.

Goose bumps flared where he touched her, and she yanked her arm away. “I’m fine,” she quipped. In a calmer tone she added, “Can I get you a drink?”

“Actually, I was wondering who was a good mechanic around here. My motorcycle slowed down on it’s own when we got near the bar and then it just died. I can’t restart it, but I see no obvious problems.” He gave a sideways smile as if he was trying to impress her and said, “I rebuilt it myself.”

The smile made her want to lead him upstairs and forget about the rest of her customers, but she had to figure out what was going on with the bar first. She’d send him on his way and go to the cellar to focus. He was just another man, nothing special—except she couldn’t read him.

She scanned the room, hoping to find a mechanic. She never knew where the bar materialized and always had to rely on Harrigans’ knowledge for any local questions. Sometimes the bar had a phone book, but she’d try the crowd first. Her eyes landed on whom she was looking for, and she frowned. The mechanic was a red headed woman tossing back a beer. She was cute and young and perfectly unacceptable to introduce this enigmatic stranger to. Samantha scanned the room some more, but knew the red head was the only mechanic there.

What did Samantha care? She needed to mend the bond with the bar and not worry about her sex life. “Go talk to her.” She nodded her head towards the mechanic and turned back to the pool game. Her opponent had just missed the nine ball and left her a great shot. She sunk it with ease, winning the game. As the group cheered and jeered, and her opponent racked the balls for another game, Samantha watched the stranger’s easy saunter over to the mechanic.

The mechanic looked him up and down and grinned as he talked. Samantha’s stomach twisted.

Shit. She didn’t have time for jealousy. She handed off her cue and strutted through the bar to the stairs in the back. She descended into the only room that never changed: the cellar. It had casks of liquids, some of which Samantha hadn’t even tried, and floor to ceiling wine racks. In the center were a large oak table and chairs.

She sat in one of the chairs and placed her palms on the table. The room pulsed, weaker than usual. “What’s wrong?” she whispered.

Sometimes they’d get a customer who needed special attention, and Harrigans would be miffed at Samantha until she tended to her, but Samantha had felt no such need in the crowd. The only odd person had been the man with the broken motorcycle, but Harrigan’s had given her no insight into him. She pressed her palms into the table, and the room pulsed again. The bar pushed love and sorrow through her veins. Her guess had been right: there was someone at the bar whose needs Samantha was ignoring.

“Who?” she whispered. “I felt nothing.”

The bar took over her vision and showed her the main room. The red headed mechanic scooted out of her booth and took the boyish stranger by the arm. Samantha’s heart pounded with envy and fear as he led the mechanic to the door. Wait, maybe they were the ones who needed special attention.

She shoved aside her own fear that he would step outside and she wouldn’t see him again to try to sense their need. The woman clearly desired the motorcyclist, but Samantha could still feel nothing from him. “I don’t get it,” she said out loud to the bar. “There’s nothing special about her, and he’s completely blocked to me.”

The couple had almost reached the door when the motorcyclist said something that made the red head laugh. She took her hand off his arm and ran her hand down his back and to his ass, squeezing it.

Inexplicable rage coursed through Samantha. She pulsed her own power through the bar and locked the door just as the motorcyclist tried to push it open. When his fingertips touched the door, Samantha finally felt a bit of his soul—broody and filled with wanderlust. Her own spirit responded by swelling with the urge to travel. She allowed the desire to expand for just one moment before she squelched it as she always did.

The bar needed her to help someone. Her destiny was not one filled with new places, at least places outside of the Harrigans.

Her energy drained out in her effort to keep the door locked. Her phone rang and echoed her sister’s ringtone all around the cellar. If she answered it, the door would unlock and the motorcyclist would be free to leave. She couldn’t figure out why the bar had shown her the couple, when they didn’t seem to be the ones who needed help.

Her phone rang again. Maybe it was her sister who needed help. Samantha asked Harrigans what to do, but the bar remained silent.

 

What do you think Samantha should do? Answer the phone to see if her sister needs help and allow the door to unlock? Or keep the door locked long enough to get back upstairs and put her sister off one more time?