Friday, October 28, 2016

On the Road Again with Michele Drier and SNAP

On the Road Again

It’s closing in on Halloween and time I put on my costume.
That’s right, I dress up like an author.

What does an author look like? A bit frazzled, somewhat frantic, putting on a happy face while begging “please buy my book.”

Maybe it’s because of the long summer when much of California takes a vacation away from the heat, but every year September, October and into November is the travel season. The one where you load up the trunk of your car with books and hit the appearance road.

This year it began in New Orleans with two panels at Bouchercon, the world’s oldest and largest mystery fan and author convention. As the co-chair for Bouchercon 2020, here in Sacramento, I spent six days taking notes, shadowing people, being on panels, talking, talking talking. I was reacquainted with old friends, met some new ones and came home exhausted.

The Great Valley Book Fest
with (left to right)
Catriona McPherson
Cindy Sample
Cherie O'Boyle
Michele Drier
moderator Danna Wilberg

Packed up the car and took off for a presentation in Fresno, 170 miles south. Home again, I reloaded the car and drove to Manteca (50 miles south) for the Great Valley Book Fest, a one-day fair of all thing bookish. Talked to a lot of people, met William Kent Kruger, award-winning author of Ordinary Grace.

Then closer to home, I drove to Face in a Book, an independent book store in El Dorado Hills to take part in a Sisters in Crime mystery panel. I’m the president of the local Sisters chapter, Capitol Crimes, and with four other members, regaled the audience with tales of being a writer. How do you come up with your plots? Do you have a regular writing schedule? Are you like your characters?

Odd, no one asked what we wear to write in. They probably knew that a writer’s uniform is jammies…or in my case either a t-shirt or sweatshirt, depending on the temperature. One author confessed to writing every morning in her recliner and another said she stands at her kitchen counter. Me? I sit in my office and stare, waiting for inspiration to leap out from the walls.

I‘m winding up this sprint on Nov. 5 when I teach a writing class at a local Adult Ed program.

At the bookstore, I fell into conversation with a young woman who’s just finished her first novel, a YA coming-of-age set in the supernatural. I gave her some resources, encouraged her to polish her book and to see it through to be published. Having the passion to write, to finish a novel, or short story or essay is a wonderful thing. And to sell it, to share your stories with others, to amuse, challenge, scare, teach others through the persuasion of your own words is heady stuff.

But being a writer is scary, also. Putting your thoughts, ideas and words out there for perfect strangers. Letting people you don’t know into your world. And then hoping they’ll pay to hear and read that story, those words.
And what’s even more scary? I still have a trunk full of books in my car.
I tell myself that John Grisham and Stephenie Meyer started out this way.

Book Blurb
In book nine of the Kandesdky Vampire Chronicles, Maxie Gwenoch, LA-based media star, VP for International Planning for the multi-national gossip conglomerate, SNAP, has finally agreed to marry Jean-Louis Kandesky, a 500-year-old Hungarian vampire a leader of the family that owns SNAP.

Is marriage a big change? Not as big as the fact that Maxie is now a vampire, as well. When munitions from the Kandesky Enterprises weapons plant in Slovakia turn up at the bombing of a Royal's house in England, Jean-Louis and his "brother," Nik, are hot on the trail of shadowy terrorist groups dealing in international weapons sales. Are the Kandesky arms being sold to terrorists groups? Should Maxie use her new-found vampire strengths to ferret out the scum?

More About the Author
Michele Drier was born in Santa Cruz and is a fifth generation Californian. She’s lived and worked all over the state, calling both Southern and Northern California home.  During her career in journalism—as a reporter and editor at daily newspapers—she won awards for producing investigative series.

She is the president of Capitol Crimes, the Sacramento chapter of Sisters in Crime, and the co-chair of Bouchercon 2020.
Her Amy Hobbes Newspaper Mysteries are Edited for Death, (called “Riveting and much recommended” by the Midwest Book Review), Labeled for Death and Delta for Death.

Her paranormal romance series, The Kandesky Vampire Chronicles, was the best paranormal vampire series of 2014 from the Paranormal Romance Guild. The series is SNAP: The World Unfolds, SNAP: New Talent, Plague: A Love Story, Danube: A Tale of Murder, SNAP: Love for Blood, SNAP: Happily Ever After?, SNAP: White Nights,  SNAP: All That Jazz, and SNAP: I, Vampire.

Friday, October 21, 2016

Nancy Lee Badger Presents Sorchia Dubois and Zoraida Grey and the Family Stones

I have welcomed Sorchia Dubois to my blog so she can share her book, to be released October 28, 2016. This is my way of paying-it-forward to other authors.

Take it away, Sorchia!

Zoraida Grey and the Family Stones is Book 1 in a 3-Book romantic suspense series. Book 2, Zoraida Grey and the Voodoo Queen, and Book 3, Zoraida Grey and the Pictish Runes, will be released in 2017. The three books follow Zoraida from what begins as a relatively simple quest to pinch a healing crystal to a journey of self-discovery and adventure. She vows to put her love life on hold until she achieves her goal, but the seductive spells of the beguiling Logan witches may be too powerful to resist.

Book Blurb
Granny’s dying, but Zoraida can save her with a magic crystal of smoky quartz. Too bad the crystal is in Scotland––in a haunted castle––guarded by mind-reading, psychopathic sorcerers.

Getting inside Castle Logan is easy. Getting out––not so much. Before she can snatch the stone, Zoraida stumbles into a family feud, uncovers a wicked ancient curse, and finds herself ensorcelled by not one but two handsome Scottish witches. Up to their necks in family intrigue and smack-dab in the middle of a simmering clan war, Zoraida and her best friend Zhu discover Granny hasn’t told them everything.

Not by a long shot.

Excerpt from Zoraida Grey and the Family Stones

    “Your Granny taught you a great deal, I’ll wager.” His brows knit together. The suspicion returns to his eyes.
    “She taught me enough.”
    “Are you sure?”
    “What do you mean by that?”
    “I mean Castle Logan is not what you expected, is it? You’re out of your depth here.”
    “I wouldn’t say that.” I resolve to stand firm, though he is so close I can feel his warmth and smell the musk of sweat and dirt on his clothes.
    “Don’t pretend to be something you are not. We scare you. Admit it.” He scowls down at me.
    “And I seem to scare you and maybe even Michael.” I scowl right back at him. “I don’t know why––since I am only here on vacation.”
    Shea’s lips curl in a sneer. “Michael and I disagree about many things, but we are in total agreement about you. You are hiding something. Rest assured we’ll discover what it is in short order.”
    “Everybody in this bloody castle is hiding something. Why should I be any different? It’s not like I killed somebody.”
    Too late, I remember Miss Watson’s certainty that Shea killed the old laird. It’s never clever to bait an accused murderer. I move away but he grasps my arm, his eyes black with anger.
    “You didn’t waste time learning all there is to learn from town gossip. Consider this. If I could kill my own uncle—toss him over the side of the tower and watch him break apart––what do you suppose I could do to you?” 

Buy links

Preorder the e-book here: Amazon
Preorder the paperback here: The Wild Rose Press 
More About the Author 
Sorchia Dubois lives in the piney forest of the Missouri Ozarks with eight cats. She edits technical writing and fiction part time, but she spends at least five hours per day tapping out paranormal romance, Gothic murder, and Scottish thrillers. A proud member of the Ross clan, Sorchia incorporates all things Celtic (especially Scottish) into her works. She can often be found swilling Scotch at Scottish festivals. Connect with her here:

Thursday, October 20, 2016

Free Excerpt from SMOKE by Nancy Lee Badger

I thought I would stop by my own blog and treat y'all to an excerpt from SMOKE, Clan of Dragons, Book #2:

    The odor of the dragon’s breath overpowered the scent of pine and fresh-fallen snow. Kera ran a hand down her leg, and didn’t feel any blood, but the limb throbbed. When heavy footsteps grew closer, a momentary wish to dip her body into the nearest fairy pool disappeared. How foolish. The urge to escape beneath its cool, clear water, or feel the massaging action of a cascading waterfall, was not strong enough to forget her current predicament, or the wintry weather.
    The dragon moved toward her as it circled the tree. Its long white fangs glistened, and its hot breath melted the snow at her feet. Kera searched the area for a weapon. Unfortunately, the snow around the tree was heavy, and had covered everything.
    Gazing upward, she thought to grab a limb and climb to safety, but she stopped when an odd voice said, “I apologize.” Who spoke to her in the presence of a dragon? Curiosity would be her downfall someday, but she peered from behind the tree and saw the green dragon, and only the dragon.
    “Did you…say something?”
    I be speaking to a dragon? Did I hit me head as well?
    “Aye, lass,” the dragon said. “I apologized. I did not mean to throw you so hard, but your wolf form surprised me. There be friends of mine nearby whom I wish to protect. I can…ahh…see you be not only a wolf.”
    With her secret out, a weight lifted from her shoulders. “I, also, apologize. I hope I did not hurt you by walking on your head. I heard something fall from the mountain, then I smelled you and…I was too curious for me own good.”
    “You have a lovely smile, but I see pain in your eyes. Be you injured?”
    She nodded, then immediately wondered if admitting her vulnerability made her a target. While contemplating her next move, the dragon leaned closer and sniffed her hip.
    “No blood. You should come with me.”
Before she could answer with a resounding nay, a roar shook the tree, and dumped snow from the branches above them, onto their heads. The cold blanket of white powder stole her breath, and the ground rumbled beneath her feet. She clasped the tree’s trunk to stay on her feet. Pain sliced along her leg, and brought tears to her eyes.
    Kera gained her balance, and peeked again. Another dragon had joined the first, and he looked angry. Smoke curled from his nostrils, and his red scales glistened like fresh-spilled blood. His black wings flapped, sending waves of cold wind directly at her, and the tree.
    “Calm yourself, brother. The lass be injured, and not a threat to anyone.” The green dragon moved closer, and shielded Kera with his white wings.
    “I smell wolf and human. You know how I feel about humans!”

Buy Links: 

Thursday, October 13, 2016

Fall into Romance Blog Hop & GIVEAWAY

Fall Into Romance Sign Up
The Fall into Romance Giveaway Hop has started 
and I want to share a few of the books that had me falling in love with Scottish-themed romance novels.
*Outlander by Diana Gabaldon (surprise?)
*My Fierce Highlander by Vonda Sinclair
*Heart of the Highland Wolf by Terry Spear
*Highland Blessings by Jennifer Hudson Taylor

I hope you will consider my new book...

SMOKE, Clan of Dragons, Book #2

How far will Wynn, a green and white dragon, go to save their species? An accidental meeting with a wolf-shifter leads him on a merry chase beneath the lure of the coming full moon. Will he follow her, or shift into a human to find a mate among the villagers? Dragons don’t wear plaide. Nancy Lee Badger brings you SMOKE, the 2nd book in her Clan of Dragon series. Join the hero, pirates, and Scottish villagers trying to survive in this historical paranormal with a humorous bent, set on the Isle of Skye in Scotland. 

Buy Links 
<Coming Soon> 
BAM     Book Depository

Nancy is giving away a Scottish-themed prize. 
DRAWING is Oct. 21st

*You may enter using one or all of these methods 
(You NEVER have to do them all!)

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Terms & Conditions
No purchase necessary. Open to USA and International residents.  Due to shipping costs & food gifts, International winners will receive a selection of Nancy's ebooks. All entrants agree to me adding their names & emails to my Newsletter list, and will be eligible for future GIVEAWAYS. Info will NOT be shared.


Monday, October 10, 2016

Jan Scarbrough: 2nd Chances & Tangled Memories

Given a second chance, 
I write about second chances

*My guest this week is author Jan Scarbrough. Take it away Jan!

When I was thirty-eight, I almost died. I was in the intensive care unit for four days. After I recovered, I decided it was time to make my dream of becoming a novelist come true.

Tangled Memories was one of the first two novels that I wrote after my recovery. It was a Romance Writers of America Golden Heart finalist. First published by ImaJinn Books, a publisher that embraced paranormal romance before vampires became popular, Tangled Memories has had an eventful history hopping from one small publisher to the next. I now have my rights back and have given my old book a “second chance” makeover.

After my life-threatening illness, I wondered “what if” we were all given second chances. What would we do? And especially, what would happen to a heroine if she were given another chance to find her true love? In Tangled Memories, there’s a supernatural suspense element, but there’s also a happy ending. I like to write about heroines who find true love, but grow in the process. My heroines learn from their mistakes and embrace the second chances they are given—as we all should do in real life. 

Blurb for Tangled Memories

After losing his wife, Dr. Alexander Dominican is determined his infant daughter will not grow up motherless as he did. Offering sensible, kind kindergarten teacher Mary Adams a marriage of convenience seems like the perfect solution. The widow’s husband left her with a mountain of debt. For Alex, paying it off is a small price to pay for his daughter’s happiness. Until his sensible new wife begins to lose her mind.

On the day of their marriage, Mary starts having frightening hallucinations of medieval England—visions that feel more like the memories of woman who lived centuries before. More terrifying, someone—or some thing—is stalking the new mistress of Marchbrook Manor. Could it be one of the sinister servants? Or Alex himself? Alex is reawakening hidden desires and longings in Mary, but until she can untangle the web of nightmares and secrets, she can trust no one. Not even Alex.

Alex has no idea he’s unleashing a destiny that’s taken him seven hundred years to fulfill.

If Alex and Mary are to salvage their future, they must first unravel centuries of…Tangled Memories.

Excerpt – Tangled Memories

Present Day

     His eyes were gray. I had never noticed before. They weren’t the color of slate but smoky and mysterious.
     Swallowing a hard knot of dread that surfaced in my throat, I walked down the silent aisle toward him. Chin held high, very lady-like in posture and demeanor, a trace of smile upon my lips—I was the picture of confidence.
     Inside, I trembled.
     I stopped in front of the altar. A cloying scent of gardenias assaulted my senses. How curious the delicate white flowers in my bouquet should be so overpowering. Just like the man beside me. Just like the deep, heady gray of his eyes.
     I extended my hand. He took it, and I drew a breath and held it. The firmness of his fingers surprised me.
     “Friends.” The minister glanced up at us and smiled. “We are gathered together in the sight of God to witness and bless the joining together of Mary and Alexander in Christian marriage.”
     Alex was tall, so tall I had to look up to connect with those mesmerizing eyes. I was aware of my breathing, erratic and shallow. I’d married for the second time in my life and, once again, my reasons were more practical than romantic.
     How even more ironic was the Methodist minister’s white stole, a symbol of purity and love. I felt neither pure nor in love. His black robes better matched my somber mood.
     “I ask you now,” Reverend Watts continued, “in the presence of God and these people, to declare your intention to enter into a union with one another.”
     To enter into a union.
     Heaven help me. Would it be a union? How could it be? Our union was a business arrangement, plain and simple. I understood that. For some reason though, sadness settled around my heart.
     Reverend Watts looked at me. “Mary, will you have Alexander to be your husband to live together in holy marriage? Will you love him, comfort him, honor and keep him, in sickness and in health, and forsaking all others, be faithful to him as long as you both shall live?”
     Alex’s penetrating gaze burned upon my upturned face. “I will,” I said at last.
     “Alexander, will you have Mary to be your wife?”
     From underneath my lashes, I watched him. He wore his black hair swept back and long, curling at his neck. A stray lock touched his forehead and set off his eyes. His high cheekbones and jawline gave him a classic look. His lips were full and inviting. Enigmatic in his formal black tuxedo, crisp white shirt, and bow tie, he seemed a brooding Byronic hero. Handsome, though austere, his masculine good looks belonged to another century or, at least, on the cover of a romantic novel.
     How different would my life have been if I hadn’t become pregnant my freshman year in college…if I hadn’t married Bill…if I hadn’t miscarried? What if I had met Alexander Dominican under different circumstances, before life touched me so cruelly?
     “I will.” His deep voice resonated throughout the empty chapel.
     Turning from the minister to me, Alex’s eyes brightened as his gaze captured mine. Out of habit, I licked my lips, but nothing eased my tension. The strain I felt surely communicated to the self-assured man who held my hand. Did he feel the hypocrisy of our oath? Or was he simply satisfied with a marriage of convenience?
     Daring him with my stare, I narrowed my own eyes in challenge to his casual acceptance of our deceit before God. His black brow lifted to meet my taunt. He cocked his head as if to tell me I could yet back out. I could walk away a single woman. Poor, but single.
     I shifted my gaze, unable to continue our silent joust. He knew full well I couldn’t back out. Bill’s death had made my current situation untenable.
     “Let us pray. Eternal God, creator and preserver of all life.”
     I bowed my head but couldn’t shut my eyes. My dilemma didn’t seem right. Nothing seemed right these last few weeks. Not since the dark-clad police officer had come to my door telling me my husband of eight years had been killed in a car accident.
     Bill and I hadn’t been lovers in the end. Or even in love. Oddly, ours had been a pragmatic marriage because of the baby…the baby who died. Yet, we had made a compact and married before God. I had honored our agreement, much as I planned to honor my new one with this man by my side.
     When the prayer ended, the minister motioned us to face each other and join both our hands. I gave my bouquet to Gail, my maid of honor. She hesitated as if to object, then took it. I was able to accept Alex’s free hand. The grip of his fingers transmitted tingling warmth through my arms. Trite as it sounds, I felt my heart skip a beat.
     What was this reaction? It had been a long time since I’d felt sexual attraction, and I certainly did not expect to feel ardor toward this man with whom I had signed a contract. What good would my feelings do? Although married, we had an arrangement. Ours would be a platonic relationship. Because his wife Allison had died so suddenly, I would be a mother to his infant daughter. He would pay my debts.
     Why had I agreed to such a stark and precise agreement? It left no room for this unexpected play of emotion.
     “I, Alexander, take you, Mary, to be my wife.”
     To be my wife.
     My throat constricted. I had met Dr. Alexander Dominican the night I lost my baby. The partner of my regular OB-GYN, Dr. Hilliard, Alex had been on call. Still regretting my teen years, I knew I had been such a fool to let myself get pregnant.
     Straightening my shoulders at the thought, I caught the slight narrowing of Alex’s eyes, and turned self-consciously from his scrutiny. What did he really think about me? Did he remember that scared eighteen-year-old-patient of eight years ago? I had changed. Did he know I’d changed? Did he care?
     The minister nodded. Summoning all my willpower, I repeated in a hushed voice the same vows. My hands were damp when Alex released them to turn to his best man, Dr. Hilliard. At the same time, Gail handed me a wide gold band. Unable to meet Alex’s gaze, I took his left hand and slid the band across his third finger.
     A strange feeling of familiarity enveloped me. In a different time, I believed he would have bowed and kissed the back of my hand. Today, he held onto it and gently slipped the new wedding band into place on my finger. I glanced up to find his eyes appraising me. As I tightened my lips, my returning gaze did not falter. The weight of the ornate, gold ring nudged into my flesh and created a symbolic link between us.
     “Bless, O Lord, the giving of these rings, that they who wear them may live in your peace and continue in your favor all the days of their lives.”
     Alex smiled a slow, half smile, as if he understood something I had failed to discern. The smile softened his stern features, bringing back my recollection of the gentle doctor who had once comforted and cared for me. I offered a smile in reply and was gratified to see his eyes lighten in response.
     The minister joined our hands together again and wrapped his white stole around them. He cleared his throat and raised his voice to include all the guests in his pronouncement.
     “Now that Alexander and Mary have given themselves to each other by solemn vows with the joining of hands and the giving and receiving of rings, I announce to you that they are husband and wife; in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Those whom God has joined together, let no one put asunder.”
     A surprising disquiet pricked my scalp and traced down the back of my neck. What was wrong? I swallowed once, to ease the dryness in my mouth and then looked up from our joined hands. We were husband and wife. It seemed so appropriate, so right. As if it was meant to be. But how could it under the strained circumstances?
     “Are you going to kiss the bride?” I heard amusement in the minister’s voice.
     Alex released my hands. I felt oddly bereft. He stared at me, his eyes shadowed by coal-colored lashes. I read the speculation in them. He lifted his hands, and I fixed my gaze upon them, charmed by the beauty of his tapered fingers. His hands lingered in the air briefly, and then Alex raised the thin veil from my face. My gaze now held spellbound by his, I watched as he gently elevated my chin with a fingertip and caressed my cheek with a thumb.
     For an instant, my heart hung suspended in my chest, then dropped into a relentless beat. Why did I welcome the touch of his hand upon my skin?
     He stood so very close. His warm breath touched my face. I saw the flecks of dark in the lighter gray of his eyes. My own eyes widened in dismay as Alex lowered his lips to mine, tenderly touching them with a kiss so poignant it pierced my soul.
     The kiss startled us both. I could tell by the way he hesitated, seeming to gasp for breath. With his left hand, he caressed my face, connecting us to each other in an untold way. I found it hard to breathe. I found it hard to move. In the recesses of my mind, warning bells clamored.
     I straightened my shoulders and shifted my chin away from his touch. We may be married, but his kiss was not appropriate for two people with a business arrangement. Awkwardly separating, we held each other’s gazes an instant. I felt dazed, swaying from side to side. Alex set his jaw and glanced away.
     “Congratulations.” Reverend Watts pumped Alex’s hand.
     Gail gave me my bouquet and offered me a swift hug. Her face was strained, her lips pursed. “I hope you’ll be happy, Mary.”
     “Thank you.”
     Holding on to Gail’s hug longer than necessary, I then stepped back, embarrassed. I knew she was upset with me for marrying Alex. My friend had tried to talk me out of it, especially so soon after Bill’s death. My reasons were wrong she told me. I was being purchased like a broodmare for the price of my late husband’s gambling debt. A significant gambling debt, I tried to remind her. Bill had owed more than three hundred thousand dollars that became my debt after his death. I had no other way out. Gail and I had argued. It was no surprise we now had so little to say to each other. We treated each other uneasily.
     Nearby, Dr. Hilliard congratulated Alex, slapping him on his back.
     “How do you capture the pretty ones, my man?” Dr. Hilliard asked. “How do you do it? You’ve got a beauty here for a wife. I ought to know….” He finished his sentence with a meaningful wink.
     I thought his remark crude. He was my gynecologist, after all, and, of course, knew me in a medical sense. But I overlooked it and allowed him to congratulate me with what I thought was to be the obligatory kiss for the bride.
     It was more like a lover’s kiss. His tongue invaded my mouth. He held me tightly with too much familiarity.
     Tasting bourbon, I abruptly ended the kiss, tossing my head as if to fling the flush of outrage from my heated face.
     “Why, Dr. Hilliard,” I snapped. “You certainly have a knack for exploratory surgery. Did they teach you that in medical school?”
     He laughed. “Yes, Alex, I love a woman with spunk.”
     “Or is it just my women you love, John?” My husband’s tone was slick ice.
     I tried to assess the undercurrents swirling around me, only to find Alex’s stony demeanor unreadable.
     Thankfully, Reverend Watts interrupted our conversation. “Please step into my office to sign the marriage certificate.” He stepped back to allow us to precede him out of the quiet sanctuary.
     Alex took me possessively by the hand and tucked it under his arm. He kept hold of my fingers, his own hand warm and sure. I had no trouble keeping up with his deliberate pace. There was something strangely comfortable about the way our strides matched.
     “He’s been my doctor for eight years,” I murmured, “but I never realized Dr. Hilliard could be so insufferable.”
     “You’ve only seen him on his best behavior at the office. My esteemed partner usually doesn’t come to work under the influence of Maker’s Mark.”
     “He’s not an alcoholic, is he?” I asked, thinking about my late husband.
     Alex paused and looked down at me. “Let’s just say he’s walking a fine line where I’m concerned. I’ve been monitoring his behavior. Oddly, it has worsened in the months since Allison’s death.”
     I gave Alex a slight smile, grateful for his explanation.
     “They are waiting,” he remarked. “Let’s go in.”
     The minister’s office was hot. Summer sunshine streamed through open drapes. We crowded inside while Reverend Watts went to a window air conditioner unit and turned it on. A blast of cool air erupted into the room. Returning to his desk, the minister shuffled papers for what seemed an eternity, finally producing a formal-looking document. When he nodded at us, Alex released me and stepped forward. Standing slightly away from him, I watched my new husband bend over the minister’s desk and put his signature on the paper.
     My situation seemed so unreal. Gail was angry with me. My trusted doctor had a drinking problem, and I was married…again…to a man who mystified but also intrigued me.
     Suddenly, a high-pitched, ringing sound shrilled loudly in my ears, growing in intensity until it blocked out other sounds. Was something wrong with the air-conditioning unit? Alex turned toward me, offering me the pen. His mouth moved, but I couldn’t hear him speak. The stuffy little office grew fuzzy. Sweat beaded on my upper lip. I felt weightless—as if I was floating.
     Like Fourth of July fireworks, pulsating lights of exploding colors shot before my eyes. I closed them. In the distance behind my eyes, I saw a young girl dressed in a strange yellow gown. The room vibrated….
Tangled Memories buy links
iBooks     Kobo     B&N 

Check out the US Sale Price!

More About Jan Scarbrough
A member of Novelist, Inc., Jan Scarbrough has published with Kensington, Five Star, ImaJinn Books, Resplendence Publishing and Turquoise Morning Press. She writes paranormal Gothic romances and heartwarming contemporary romances with a touch of spice. Her favorite topics are families and second chances and if the plot allows, she adds another passion—horses. Living in the horse country of Kentucky makes it easy for Jan to add small town, Southern charm to her books, and the excitement of a horse race or a big-time, competitive horse show. Connect with her here:

Friday, October 7, 2016

Release Day: SMOKE Bk#2 Clan of Dragons & GIVEAWAY

Please help me celebrate the release of my 2nd book in my Clan of Dragons series.

SMOKE is available in ebook and print.  

How far will Wynn, a green and white dragon, go to save their species? An accidental meeting with a wolf-shifter leads him on a merry chase beneath the lure of the coming full moon. Will he follow her, or shift into a human to find a mate among the villagers? Dragons don’t wear plaide. Nancy Lee Badger brings you SMOKE, the 2nd book in her Clan of Dragon series. Join the hero, pirates, and Scottish villagers trying to survive in this historical paranormal with a humorous bent, set on the Isle of Skye in Scotland. 

Buy Links 
Amazon    Amazon CAN    
B-A-M     Book Depository

Please enter my 
Scottish Dragon Giveaway
No purchase necessary
ENDS October 21st

You may enter using one or all of these methods
 (You NEVER have to do them all!)

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Terms & Conditions
No purchase necessary. Open to USA and International residents.  Due to shipping costs & food gifts, International winners will receive a selection of Nancy's ebooks. All entrants agree to me adding their names & emails to my Newsletter list, and will be eligible for future GIVEAWAYS. Info will NOT be shared.