Blast from the Past: BLINDSIGHT ( AKA The Never-ending Story ) by Sarah Raplee

{This Blast from the Past was first published in 2017.}

Hi, I’m Sarah Raplee and I’m a closet perfectionist.

That’s the main reason it took me seven years to finish my first book. I am a slow writer. And things like births, deaths, illnesses, surgeries, business slowdowns—the stuff of lives being lived—played a part. As did co-managing this blog, and writing half-a dozen short stories, three of which have been included in anthologies.

The publication of BLINDSIGHT, my debut paranormal romantic suspense novel, is a testament to stubborn perseverance, faith and the kindness (and patience) of my family and my “tribe” of fellow writers.

Sometimes I felt like this book would never end. I wrote. I re-wrote. I edited. I ‘fixed’ things. I delved deeper into characters and theme. I paid an editor to find more things for me to improve upon. Her advice was sound and made the book stronger (and taught me a lot). Then…I polished. And polished. And, as my husband likes to point out, I changed happy to glad and back again many, many times.

My husband also told me it was time to “shoot the engineer and build the device,” which translates into “shoot the writer and publish the book.” But something held me back. After much prayer and meditation and consultation with friends, I finally internalized the truth that no book is perfect—and that’s okay. It was the part about it being okay that I hadn’t really taken to heart.

No book is perfect because no writer is perfect, and that’s also okay. As poet Joyce Kilmer so eloquently put it, “Poems are made by fools like me, but only God can make a tree.”

SARAH RAPLEE

After this epiphany, I finished the book. BLINDSIGHT is not perfect, but my Beta readers loved it. And that is more than enough to make me happy.

BLINDSIGHT, Book 1 in the FBI Psychic Agents Series, will be published by Windtree Press and available at all major E-Bookstores on Valentine’s Day.

BLINDSIGHT BLURB:

A tenacious FBI Psychic Agent who can find anything…
A lonely blind woman with a dangerous kiss…
A brutal psychic criminal obsessed with killing one and controlling the other…

FBI Level-10 Dowser Hector Guerrero, undercover at a drug lord’s remote wilderness wedding, learns the man that murdered his family plans to kidnap the psychically Talented blind wedding singer. Unable to allow the Cartel to enslave another victim, he tries to protect her and ends up in a torture chamber.

Luckily, Melisenda Smith is as resourceful as she is beautiful—and she needs Hector’s help to escape with her elderly guide dog. Fighting a perilous attraction, Meli and Hector must rely on one another to survive a relentless wilderness pursuit. When they stumble onto the Cartel’s hidden prison camp Hector’s been seeking, will ghosts from his past destroy their chance for a future together?

EXCERPT:

Melisenda set her drink down and tipped her head to one side as if she could see straight through him from behind her dark lenses. “Are you a friend of the bride or the groom?”

Hector blinked. “Uh, I’m here for the groom. I’m one of his bodyguards, currently off-duty.”

He scanned the room for Killingsworth and spotted him moving toward the bar. Biding his time. Sweat beaded his upper lip. How long before Killingsworth ran out of patience?

“So you’re here out of loyalty, Hector?”

The question caught him off guard. A bitter laugh escaped him. “I’m here because I want to keep my job.” He shifted in his chair, angling his body toward her. “What about you?”

Color blossomed in her cheeks. She picked up her champagne and held the fluted glass between them. “I need to keep food on the table.”

He narrowed his eyes. Her body language told him there was more to it, but he didn’t want to spook her. He changed the subject to a humorous description of a mismatched couple dancing.

When the lively music ended, the trumpet player teased the first liquid notes of the old Beatles’ ballad, Yesterday, from his instrument. The rest of the musicians joined in the second refrain. More richly-dressed couples rose from their tables and headed for the dance floor.

Melisenda’s smile turned wistful. Was her resolve wavering? “I bet you dance like you sing—beautifully,” he said.

She moistened her lower lip with the tip of her tongue. “Dancing’s against the rules.”

He leaned closer and lowered his voice. “Whose rules?”

She tucked a stray curl behind her ear. The rhinestones rimming her glasses flickered. “My rules, from the Wedding Singer Rule Book.”

Hector smiled at her little white lie. “There’s no such thing.”

“There is a rule book. I wrote it myself.” She was even pretty when she frowned.

He shook the thought out of his head. He had to get her onto the dance floor so they could slip outside where he’d deliver his warning. He couldn’t let Killingsworth kidnap another woman on his watch. Doc would have to understand.

As he slid his chair back, the rubber-tipped legs stuttered across the polished floor. Melisenda flinched.

¡Mierda! The last thing he needed was to frighten her. “Please, I haven’t danced with anyone in a long time.”

She raised her chin and her rhinestones sparked. “Forgive me if I don’t believe you.”

A muscle twitched in his jaw. They were running out of time. Intending to overwhelm her resistance with action, he grabbed her lace-gloved hand. An electric buzz bolted through his hand and up his arm. He remained in his chair. Her fingers tightened. The overwhelming sense that she yearned to trust him dragged out a piece of the truth he’d never intended to share.

“I haven’t danced since my fiancée died. Maybe I can, with you.” Heat rose in the agent’s face. What the hell had come over him? Why would he reveal something related to his real past, not Hector’s imaginary one?

Melisenda’s face paled. She wrenched her hand away.

“You couldn’t have known,” he said in what he hoped was a soothing tone. He glanced around. No one seemed to have overheard him. But what had just happened? He’d once met a touch telepath who could transmit thoughts and sensory details through skin-to-skin contact. This was different, as if he’d been overwhelmed by her emotional energy.

“I know what it’s like to lose someone you love,” she said softly. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”

His throat tightened. It had been years since he’d last heard those words. He reminded himself he knew next to nothing about her. He’d be a fool to let her get under his skin just because she was Talented. His goal was to get her out of Mendoza’s compound to safety without blowing his cover. Doc employed expert squints to sort out the complexities of Talent.

Taking care not to let his fingertips brush her skin, he lifted a long curl off her shoulder and pretended he’d felt nothing. “Your hair is like burnished copper. So beautiful.”

The silky strands slid between his fingers. The way she trembled tugged at a place in his core he’d thought long dead. ¡No manches¡ This was not the time for his libido to resurrect itself. He had to focus on getting her out of here. Afterward, she’d be Doc’s problem.

Thank you for reading this excerpt from BLINDSIGHT. If you enjoyed it, remember the book will be available on Valentine's Day! ~Sarah Raplee

www.sarahraplee.com

Copyright 2017 Sarah Raplee All Rights Reserved

The Origin of Superheroes by Sarah Raplee

My husband, Chuck, is much better at finding things than most people. For example, a few years ago we were attending a religious study class in a friend’s home. One woman had to leave early. A few minutes after she left, she came back saying she’d misplaced her car keys.

Without looking up from his workbook, Chuck said, “They’re on the floor under the bed where we put our coats.”

Sure enough, when she got down on her hands and knees and peered under the bed, there was her key ring. When asked how he knew where the keys were, my husband shrugged. He just knew.

Dowsers are paid to locate underground water and mineral deposits. I know of a psychic who works with police who has located missing persons using map dowsing with a pendulum.

These were the inspirations for my hero’s psychic power in BLINDSIGHT, Book 1 of my Psychic Agents series. He is a Master Dowser. He uses his Talent (aka superpower) to find anyone or anything, anywhere. Except…when the villain has a minion with a Level 10 superpower that blocks other Talents hiding his objective.

A young man who has a legendary superpower and works for the FBI would be confident, right? Maybe even a little arrogant?

Who is the heroine that can take him down a notch?

A woman he sees as extremely vulnerable because she is blind, when in fact she is gutsy, resourceful and dangerous. Enter the heroine, a blind wedding singer with a Level 10 Talent she doesn’t understand and can’t control. Every man she’s ever kissed has passed out. When she decides to practice on the hero at the drug lord’s wedding, all hell breaks loose—after which she rescues the hero from a torture chamber.

See how things evolved?

I realized I needed to do a lot of world building, so I took a class and took the time to do so. This is vital to planning a superhero series. You can’t just pull characters and powers out of thin air. There has to be an underlying logic that supports the ‘laws of nature’ in your story world.

For example, in my story world super-characters are born with a latent Talent that begins to manifest in childhood. Talents can be anywhere on a continuum from very weak to very strong. Sometimes they seem to cluster in families, but they are not “passed down” according to the known laws of genetics. No lightning strikes or falling in a vat of chemicals here! In the beginning of the series, scientists have not yet discovered why more and more Talented people are being born—but I, as the author, must know from the get-go in order to make the series work.

I’m working on character development for SIGHT UNSEEN, Book 2 in the Psychic Agents series. I set up the potential romance at the end of Book 1. 

The heroine is a survivor with amnesia and no Talent, who gave birth to a Talented child. The baby's father is a mystery. 

The hero is the FBI Psychic Agent who delivered her baby during the final battle in BLINDSIGHT. He is known as the Forgettable Man. Unless he works hard to suppress his unique Talent and someone spends a lot of time with him, their memories of him quickly fade. After a sound sleep, they are gone. His Talent even clouds surveillance technology.

Hence the title, SIGHT UNSEEN.

Do you enjoy reading about people with superpowers?  ~Sarah Raplee

8 Crazy, Awesome Memories by Sarah Raplee

Memory #1:  Eight years ago, Judith Ashley and I metaphorically held hands with eighteen other dedicated writers and jumped into the virtual world of blogging. Some of us were published authors and some were not-yet-published.  We were various ages, nationalities, and ethnicities from around United States and the English-speaking world. Many of us (including me and Judith, the "Blog Queens") were new to blogging.

SARAH and JUDITH

We had one thing in common as writers:We all wrote romantic fiction of some kind, whether Young Adult, Science Fiction, Romantic Suspense, Paranormal, Women's Fiction or any other sub-genre or cross-genre combination.

We called our brand new group blog Romancing the Genres. Here we are, eight years later, publishing our 2,395th post! It's been a wild ride.

Memory #2:  After about a year, we decided to add a 'sister blog' where the Genre-istas, as we call ourselves, would offer free flash fiction stories to our readers. The writers would retain all rights to the stories. Later, we decided to recruit non-Genre-ista writers to offer stories as well. We called the free reads blog Free Reads from the Genre-istas and Friends. (Eventually, we retired the sister blog.)

Memory #3:  Eventually, we decided to close our sister-blog. We went on to open the RTG Facebook Page and to host a number of Facebook Parties and Events. Judith and I had to learn about Facebook, with much help from Marcia king-Gamble and other knowledgeable Genre-istas.

Memory #4:  About this time, I published the short stories "Enchanted Protector" and "Curse of the Neahkahnnie Treasure" in an anthology with Judith Ashley and Diana McCollum, LOVE AND MAGIC.

Memory #5:  I also published a flash fiction story, "The Telltale Heart", in the Windtree Press anthology GIFTS FROM THE HEART.

Memory #6:  Genre-ista Michelle Monkou was approved to do weekly re-caps/reviews of the hugely popular STARZ Outlander television series based on the Romantic Time Travel Books by Diana Gabaldon.

Memory #7:  I published my first novel, BLINDSIGHT, a romantic suspense with paranormal elements.

Last, but not least, Memory #8: In 2018, RTG teamed with the authors and organizers of the historical twelve-book/twelve-author project, 

DECADES: A JOURNEY OF AFRICAN-AMERICAN ROMANCE

12 awesome authors...books...12 decades...12 love stories...

I look forward to making many more crazy, awesome memories in the years to come! ~Sarah Raplee

. 

SOMETHING RICH AND STRANGE by Sarah Raplee

This post was first published at Romancing the Genres in 2015.

I love reading and writing stories set in worlds that are enough like our own to be recognizable, but have, to quote the Bard, undergone “a sea change into something rich and strange.” Think of fairytales, The Chronicles of Narnia by C.S. Lewis or Alice Hoffman’s Practical Magic, the Pirates of the Caribbean films or television shows like Grimm and or Marvel’s Agents of Shield.

One of my stories from the anthology Love and Magick is set on the Oregon Coast during Victorian times. I did a ton of research to make the setting for Curse of the Neahkahnnie Treasure realistic. But the plot is about the search for a cursed pirate treasure guarded by a cursed ghost. Something rich and strange 9both literally and figuratively speaking!)

My paranormal romantic suspense novel, BLINDSIGHT, is the first in the FBI Psychic Agent Series. The series is set in our contemporary world, with a twist. People with psychic abilities exist, unknown to the general public.

The other of my stories in Love and Magick, Enchanted Protector, is set in a medieval-like world, but one where evil needle-toothed gnomes, dark witches and other Fae creatures complicate life for humans (and each other.) Enchantments happen and a pretty little girl can read thoughts. This world is even richer and stranger than my Victorian world.

Enchanted Protector excerpt

Ruby pushed into the wind with her head down. She had seen no one in the alley, but a moment later her feet tangled with some small creature that screeched in outrage. She windmilled her arms and then fell on her bum. The unforgiving stones jolted her spine to the top of her head. For a moment, her eyes would not focus.

After a few seconds, a wizened little face with a white beard and bushy white brows floated into view. A frown of apparent concern scrunched the small man’s countenance. “So sorry, miss,” he said. “My fault entirely. Let me help you up.”

Hands the size of a small child’s tugged on her arm with surprising strength. Ruby wobbled to her feet and blinked down at the small Fae man. He straightened her apron and brushed dirt off her skirt. Her head began to throb and her heart began to pound.

He finished and peered up at her. “That’s better, wot? Right as rain you are, I trust.”

Ruby drew her brows together. The word trust did not belong in the mouth of a gnome. Or was he an elf? Both were small in stature, with pointy ears and an odd way of speaking. Ruby had trouble telling the two Fae races apart. It was said that elves were merely mischievous, whereas gnomes would steal the shirt off a man’s back while he drowned.

The little man smiled, and it became obvious what was what and who was who. Whilst an elf’s teeth were small to match the size of his mouth, in shape and number they appeared human. This gnome had what looked like a hundred narrow, pointed teeth.

Ruby lost her voice. The enduring memory of Mam sewing up her mangled left hand when she was small caused her to sway in the face of all those needle-like teeth.

The gnome lifted his face skyward as if he were a dog scenting the air. His smoke-colored eyes widened and then he twirled in place, scanning the square. He backed away from Ruby. “We must be off, with snow coming, wot? Carry on, miss. Carry on.”

He scurried down the alley, mumbling to himself as he disappeared into the shadows. Lightning cracked overhead and snowflakes poured like eerie white rain from the storm-tossed clouds.

#

Prince Rolf of Helmsgaard, heir to the Dragon Horn Throne, lowered his muzzle to gnome height and followed Thumble-no-skin’s sour scent into the village. The strong odors of unwashed humans, wood smoke and cooking meat layered with the Fae creature’s scent trail. Not to mention the smell of sewage, which he luckily minded less than he had when he had been fully human. Since the devious little gnome had cast the enchantment that had transformed him into a wolf, Rolf had learned to use his heightened senses to his advantage.

The gnome’s scent trail was fresh, the sour odor of his evil magic strong. Rolf’s heart lifted. Thumble-no-skin could only have arrived recently or Rolf would have caught his scent sooner. Perhaps he could finally catch the Fae man without a bolt-hole nearby.

He trotted down the cobblestone street the villagers had deserted in favor of the market. The bustle of the crowd reached his ears. He caught the sweet feminine perfume of a maiden, as if the girl had passed this way only minutes before him. One of his frequent waves of melancholy threatened. Lying with women was one more thing denied him since the treacherous gnome and his gang of thieves had played him for a fool.

He picked up a trace of tangy gold attached to the maiden’s scent and awakened from his reverie. The hackles on the back of the prince’s furred neck lifted. Few of the villagers possessed so much a farthing. The girl’s small treasure would be as irresistible to the gnome as a shiny buckle to a crow.

WHY PSYCHIC AGENTS? by Sarah Raplee

Hi, I’m Sarah Raplee, author of the Psychic Agents Series of Romantic Suspense novels. Why psychic agents?

Because they are so fun to write! 

I love “what ifs”. 

For example:

What if the FBI has a top-secret unit of agents with extraordinary psychic abilities who are a resource for both U.S. law enforcement agencies and those of our allies?

What if an agent who can find anything or anyone, anywhere, can’t find the man who murdered his family?

What if every time a blind wedding singer kisses a man, he passes out?

What if a drug cartel run by powerful psychic criminals kidnaps and enslaves other psychics in order to achieve world domination?

I also love world building, constructing a world in which such a story can take place. In order for the stories set in this world to make sense, I have to design a “cosmology” of rules that govern the way things work.

For example:

Is the general public aware that psychic Talents are real? Or is this knowledge limited to a select group?

How does the top-secret unit get assigned to cases?

Is psychic Talent inherited? Developed by exposure to a virus? Caused by an experiment gone awry?

If inherited, how is it passed down?

Do parents with the same Talents pass the same Talents to their children?

What happens when a regular human has a child with someone with Talent?

I had a wonderful time world building the Psychic Agents series. I hope I’ve piqued your interest so you'll read the blurb for BLINDSIGHT, Book 1 in the Psychic Agents series from Windtree Press.

 BLINDSIGHT BLURB:

A tenacious FBI Psychic Agent who can find anything…

A lonely blind woman with a dangerous kiss…

A brutal psychic criminal obsessed with killing one and controlling the other…

When FBI Psychic Agent Hector Guerrero’s family was kidnapped and murdered, he swore to stop the slave trade in psychics. Undercover for three years in the Mendoza Drug Cartel, he’s zeroing in on a hidden prison camp in Washington’s Cascade Mountains. Nothing will stop him from taking down the Cartel.

Blind wedding singer Melisenda Smith can’t keep from projecting her emotional energy onto others through touch. Meli’s nomadic life performing throughout the Pacific Northwest allows her to avoid physical and emotional intimacy. But now her only family, her elderly guide dog Freddy, must stop traveling. Desperate to pay for a career change so she can work from home and keep her beloved companion, Meli accepts a risky gig at a drug lord’s wilderness wedding.

When the Cartel targets Meli for kidnapping, Hector loses his focus. When Meli blows his cover, she loses Hector’s trust. When Meli rescues Hector from a torture chamber, Hector might well lose his battered heart.

I hope you enjoyed my post. Please visit my Amazon Author Page to learn more. ~Sarah

ROMANTIC THRILLERS WITH A PARANORMAL TWIST by Sarah Raplee

Hi, I’m Sarah Raplee, author of BLINDSIGHT (Psychic Agents Series Book 1).

Psychic Agents Series Blurb:

Over the last hundred years, the number of people with psychic gifts in the general populace, world-wide, continues to increase. The Special Psychic Agents of the FBI’s Global Resources Subdivision are a law enforcement resource hidden deep in the Bureau’s International Operations Division. These men and women are charged with using their powerful psychic Talents in support of FBI operations and foreign law enforcement organizations upon request. These unsung heroes routinely lay their lives—and their hearts—on the line in pursuit of justice for all.

As Matt Buchman said in his post last Saturday, writing a romantic thriller is a balancing act. The thriller storyline and the romance storyline must be so interwoven that one cannot stand without the other.

In the case of paranormal romantic thrillers like BLINDSIGHT, the paranormal elements must be integral to both storylines and to the main characters’ goals, motivations and conflicts. For me, writing one of these edge-of-your-seat stories was a whole lot of fun!

I took a world-building class, a class about weaving together the various elements of a story and a class on researching and writing diverse characters. The characters in this series reflect the richness of our diverse American culture.

Digging into subjects as wide-ranging as bear vaults, hypothermia, invisibility cloaks, and world history was fun. Brainstorming secondary characters, twists and turns in the plot and a doozie of a mid-point reversal was off-the-charts awesome. During revisions, discovering theme was a revelation. Somehow I’d written it in without knowing!

I'd have to say the most difficult thing for me to get right was pacing. Thillers are mostly fast-paced, but this romance needed quieter moments spaced in as well. 

BLINDSIGHT Blurb:

 When psychic FBI Agent Hector Guerrero’s family was kidnapped and murdered, he swore to stop the slave trade in psychics. Undercover for three years in the Mendoza Drug Cartel, he’s zeroing in on a hidden prison camp in Washington’s Cascade Mountains. Nothing will stop him from taking down the Cartel.

Blind wedding singer Melisenda Sepulveda can’t keep from projecting her emotional energy onto others through touch. Meli’s nomadic life performing throughout the Pacific Northwest allows her to avoid physical and emotional intimacy. But now the veterinarian insists her only family, her elderly Guide Dog Freddy, must stop traveling. Desperate to pay for a career change so she can work from home and keep her beloved companion, Meli accepts a risky gig at a drug lord’s wilderness wedding.

When the Cartel targets Meli for kidnapping, Hector loses his focus. When Meli blows his cover, she loses Hector’s trust. When Meli rescues Hector from a torture chamber, Hector might well lose his battered heart.

Excerpt:

Glancing around to make sure no one was watching, the agent poured his champagne into his neighbor’s empty glass. He couldn’t take a chance on dulling his thought processes.

Being Hector was like wearing an ill-fitting-but-familiar old suit that pinched in a couple of places, but not so badly he couldn’t ignore the discomfort most of the time. He had to be at the top of his game, one-hundred per cent in character to survive long enough to bring down the Mendoza Cartel.

The murmur of the crowd muted. Casting a glance over his shoulder, Hector spotted Killingsworth staring through the open French doors beside the musician’s dais like a lion spotting a threat—or prey. The back of the agent’s neck prickled.

Turning in his seat for a better look, he made out a shadowy female figure wearing a long gown. Why was Killingsworth so interested in her?

A swirl of iridescent fabric the color of sagebrush in springtime accompanied a dainty, green-slippered foot into the soft circle of light spilling from the ballroom. Conversation near the doorway hushed. Every male in the room homed in on the woman who left the shadows, a woman like no other the agent had encountered in the underworld of the Cartel.

Coppery curls spilled over the curve of one shoulder in a long, loose ponytail. In the warm glow of the chandeliers, rhinestones shimmered in her burnished hair and winked from the frames of her mysterious dark glasses. Her demure, floor-length gown failed to conceal her curves or the sweet, girl-next-door sexiness she exuded.

For the first time in nearly four years, desire unfolded in the agent’s belly.

In the world of the Cartel, women survived and sometimes thrived using a combination of cold cunning and artifice. They grew cynical and hard, or worn-down and resigned. Yet everything about this young woman sang the siren song of wholesome, soul-deep beauty. Even the crowded ballroom’s air smelled fresher with her in the room.

She hesitated, brushing back an errant curl with a small hand covered in sage-green lace. Beneath the twinkle of her dark glasses her wide mouth curved into a smile full of promise.

One of the blue-suited mariachis descended the dais steps and spoke softly to her. She nodded. Tucking one of her hands into the crook of his arm he led her to the little stage. He murmured something into her ear and she smiled. They ascended the three steps and crossed to the middle of the small, raised stage. The mariachi guided her gloved hand to a microphone stand.

Hector’s heart bucked like a wild burro. ¡Mierda! The woman was blind.

©Copyright 2017 Sarah Raplee

Thank you for reading my post. ~ Sarah Raplee

www.sarahraplee.com

Embracing My Inner Free-Range Chicken

Hi, I'm Sarah Raplee, author of the Pychic Agents Series
(romantic suspense). 

WHAT A LIFE!!!

Although I have yet to be eligible for Medicare or Social Security, I do qualify for the “Honored Citizens” menu at Shari’s Restaurants. Recently, I’ve come to terms with the fact that I’m no longer a “spring chicken”, as my grandmas used to say. 

I like to think I’m evolving to become more like the pet free-range hen that will never lay another egg, but who digs grubs like nobody’s business. Her antics keep her city-transplant family so entertained that they forgive her when she doesn’t always come when called.

Instead, they stumble around in the dark with flashlights, call fruitlessly and forge through the row of ancient arbor vitae standing tall above the fence line. There they find her roosting on a wooden fence rail. She greets them with a purring chuckle that elicits a fond shake of the head.  “Silly old chicken! What have you been up to?”

WHY DID THE CHICKEN CROSS THE ROAD?
TO GET OUT OF THE SNOW!

Delighted to have another country life story to tell their city friends, they carry her back to the safety of the hen house and give her a handful of meal worms (aka “chicken treats”) to boot.

That’s my rambling fantasy of me reinventing myself as an elderly person. I’m holding onto it, beak and claw! ~ Sarah Raplee

A tenacious FBI Psychic Agent who can find anything…

A lonely blind woman with a dangerous kiss…

A brutal psychic criminal obsessed with killing one and controlling the other…

EXCERPT:

Glancing around to make sure no one was watching, the undercover FBI agent poured his champagne into his neighbor’s empty glass. He couldn't take a chance on dulling his thought processes. Being Hector was like wearing an ill-fitting-but-familiar old suit that pinched in a couple of places, but not so badly he couldn’t ignore the discomfort most of the time. But he had to be at the top of his game, one-hundred per cent in character to survive long enough to bring down the Mendoza Cartel.

The murmur of the crowd muted. Casting a glance over his shoulder, Hector spotted Killingsworth staring through the open French doors beside the musician’s dais like a lion spotting a threat—or prey. The back of the agent’s neck prickled.

Turning his head for a better look, he made out a shadowy female figure wearing a long gown. Why was Killingsworth so interested in her?

A swirl of iridescent fabric the color of sagebrush in springtime accompanied a dainty, green-slippered foot into the soft circle of light spilling from the ballroom. Conversation near the doorway hushed. Every male in the room homed in on the woman who left the shadows, a woman like no other the agent had encountered in the underworld of the Cartel.

Coppery curls spilled over the curve of one shoulder in a long, loose ponytail. Rhinestones shimmered in her burnished hair and winked from the frames of her mysterious dark glasses. Her demure, floor-length gown failed to curb the sweet, girl-next-door sexiness she exuded.

For the first time in four years, desire unfolded in the agent’s belly.

In the world of the Cartel, women survived and sometimes thrived using a combination of cold cunning and artifice. They grew cynical and hard, or worn-down and resigned. Yet everything about this woman sang the siren song of wholesome, soul-deep beauty. Even the warm, humid air smelled fresher with her in the room.

She hesitated, brushing back an errant curl with a small hand covered in sage-green lace to match her gown. Her wide mouth curved in a tremulous smile.

One of the blue-suited mariachis descended the dais steps and spoke softly to her. She nodded. Tucking one of her hands into the crook of his arm he led her to the little stage. He murmured something into her ear and she smiled. They ascended the three steps and crossed to the middle of the raised stage. The mariachi guided her gloved hand to a microphone stand.

Hector’s heart bucked like a wild burro. ¡Carajo! The woman was blind.

Jennifer Ashley's Ian Mackenzie

Judith is the author of The Sacred Women’s Circle series, romantic fiction that honors spiritual practices that nourish the soul and celebrates the journey from relationship to romance.

The Genre-istas are writing about their favorite Other Abled Characters this month and our guests are authors who write authentic other abled characters.

When we say “other abled” many think of a physical disability or illness that impacts a person’s ability to function.

Having had a head injury, a non-visible condition that dramatically affected my ability to do even simple tasks, I want to introduce you to Jennifer Ashley, an incredibly gifted author’s exceptionally well written The Madness of Lord Ian Mackenzie. This book is the first in of her Mackenzie/McBride series. Take my advice and start with this, the first book in the series, and work your way through. You’ll be impressed and entertained!

Be aware when you check out Ms. Ashley's website, she also writes shapeshifter paranormal. She's a best selling, award winning author in this genre but I remain a fan of her historical novels.

What draws me to this novel?

Watching Ian Mackenzie, we cannot see his challenges. Just by looking at him, he appears as the rest of his brothers do.

Outside.

Until we attempt to engage with him, he looks and moves about just like anyone else. Only when we try to catch his eye, talk to him, do we see he isn't like everyone else.

Of course in Victorian times, when this series is set, mental institutions, the ability to commit someone to one, the care (or lack) of patient care was very different than it is today.

As long as his father, the Duke of Kilmorgan, is alive, Ian is at risk. Therefore as long as his father is alive, the mental institution is where Ian survived.

We learn when reading Ian's story, not only about the ordeals survived but how he finds his way to his own happily-ever-after.

I’d say a lot more but I don’t want to spoil a heart-breaking and yet uplifting story about what it takes to find some semblance of ‘normal’, find a toe-hold and then a foot-hold on the path that will bring happiness.

I strongly encourage you to read the entire Mackenzie series. If that doesn’t fit in with your plans do find time to read the series through The Duke’s Perfect Bride, to see another phase of Ian’s story.

And if you are looking for a Western, check out PatyJager’s Doctor in Petticoats in her Halsey Brothers series.

Contemporary, paranormal? Sarah Raplee’s new release Blindsight is also meticulously researched.

What is your favorite other-abled character? And if you don’t have one yet, I hope by the end of the month you’ll have a list to add to your To Be Read pile!

Learn more about The Sacred Women’s Circle series on her website.

Follow Judith on Twitter
@JudithAshley19

Check out Judith’s Windtree Press author page.

You can also find Judith on FB!

© 2017 Judith Ashley

My Most Romantic Character by Sarah Raplee

Hi, I'm Sarah Raplee, author of Paranormal and Steampunk Romance.

I’ve written two romance novels (one published) and a number of romantic short stories. Our suggested theme for Februaruy 2017 is “My most romantic…” We get to finish the sentence.

I decided to write about my most romantic character, out of the dozens of characters I’ve written in my stories. It was a hard decision to make. But after sorting through the crowd, I have to admit that one character is a hopeless romantic.

Her name is Melisenda Sepulveda. She’s the heroine of my debut book, BLINDSIGHT (Psychic Agents Book 1), available at all major e-book stores. The print book will be available the end of March.

In case you are wondering about her looks on the cover, Meli's father was a Chilean immigrant  with a red-haired Spanish grandmother. He married a red-headed Idaho cowgirl. The result was red-haired, green-eyed Meli.

Here is the setup for this excerpt, which shows what a romantic Meli is:

Melisenda, or Meli for short, is a spirited blind wedding singer who longs for a family. All she has left is her elderly Guide Dog, Freddy. Meli has a wild psychic Talent that prevents her from being able to touch people skin-to-skin and makes every man she kisses pass out…but she doesn’t give up. And when she kisses undercover psychic FBI agent Hector, he is stunned for a bit, but he doesn’t pass out. 

Courtesy of the FBI

Suffice it to say they end up on the run from the drug lord’s minions and begin to fall in love. But when they stumble onto a Cartel concentration camp for psychics hidden in the wilderness, Meli soon learns from one of the children that a Foreseer has seen her death coming the next day. Then they discover the family Hector believes died years ago is alive inside the camp.

The prisoners’ leader, Nate, broke the news to them in a private meeting in the building where they are hiding from the guards. He brought coffee. Hector and Meli are still processing the shocking revelation. 

Excerpt

Meli’s throat ached. She hadn’t known how Hector took his coffee. Lori must have told Nate. After all, the woman had lived with Hector, had been engaged to him, had given birth to his baby. Whereas Meli had only known him for two days.

She’s Thanksgiving Dinner and I’m trail mix.

Not that it mattered. Lori and R.D. were Hector’s family. No way was Meli a home-wrecker. She couldn’t stand between a child and his father. Not after losing her own parents.

A spoon clinked on stoneware. Nate stirring her coffee? “Hand this to Meli, please,” he said.

Hector guided her fingers to the handle of a mug as if he’d done it a thousand times before. She blinked back more tears. He watched out for her, stood by her, accepted and respected her. How could she give him up?

Heat seeped through the ceramic mug into her hands. I am strong. She took a sip of the hot, creamy liquid. If I have to, I can do anything.

She loved Hector, heart and soul. But she and Freddy were doing just fine before the drug lord’s wedding. Before Hector. Well, maybe not exactly fine, but they managed. She could give Hector up, if that’s what she had to do to make him happy.

Remembering the four achingly lonely years since her uncle’s death, she discovered a lump the size of Mount Saint Helens lodged in her throat. During the last couple of days, terrible as they’d been in so many ways, Hector had filled a gaping hole in her heart. They’d become friends. Partners. Lovers.

Nate’s gravelly rumble broke the silence. Meli forced herself to drink her coffee and focus on his words.

“First, you need to understand that one of us, Zinnia Washington, is a foreseer. She gets glimpses of the most likely future. Our lives are not entirely predestined, you understand. We have free will. Think of life as a river flowing within high banks. Diverting or even blocking the flow is possible, but those things take a lot of energy and effort to accomplish. A group of people working together over months or even years might change the river’s course.”

A floorboard creaked beside her. “What does this have to do with us?” Hector said.

“When Zinnia and her father arrived a few months after me, she foresaw our most likely future. There would be no escape for us. For nearly six years we’ve worked to alter that future. We’ve accomplished a hundred little changes in preparation for an escape attempt, altered our plans over and over in hopes our efforts would add up to a big change in our future. After a couple of years, Hector showed up in one of Zinnia’s visions, but still no one escaped. Other than Hector’s appearance, only the details of our future changed. Despite all our efforts, the end result was always the same. We failed. We died. Hector died.”

Meli turned cold. She couldn’t let Hector die. Somehow, she had to protect him.

Nate continued. “The night of Mendoza’s wedding, something finally shifted. That night, Zinnia got a flash, a brief glimpse, of Lori and R.D. and Hector somewhere in the future. From Zinnia’s description of the room and the older Hispanic woman who held R.D. on her lap, Lori recognized Hector’s mother. R.D. blew out four candles on a birthday cake. He turns four in a few months. The three of them will make it out alive.”

Meli’s heart lightened. At least Hector and his son would escape—and Lori.

Hector’s warm, familiar hand enfolded hers. “What about Meli? The rest?”

“I’m sorry. We don’t know. Zinnia believes the fact that the glimpse of the future she got was so brief indicates things are still in flux. She’s seen nothing specific to indicate the rest don’t make it. If we work together, I believe all of us will escape.”

Hector was no doubt sure he could dowse a way out for them. But Meli knew the truth. Nate didn’t believe the rest of them would survive. Little Jake had told her so right after they’d arrived at the camp.

An unexpected calm settled over her like a warm, heavy blanket. She and Freddy were the key, the new elements in the equation. She had to figure out what they must do to save Hector and his family. This was her destiny. Protecting them would give her life—and her death—meaning.

Nate cleared his throat. “Will and Zinnia monitored Mendoza’s wedding and reception as part of the security detail. Will is Zinnia’s father, and a farseer. Their job was to watch for an attack from outside the camp. When Zinnia secretly told her father the probable future had shifted, he immediately scanned Mendoza’s compound and the surrounding forest. He spotted you in the gazebo, kissing Meli. He’s followed you as much as possible ever since.”

Meli’s lips curved into a small smile. Their kiss had changed the probable future.

I hope you enjoyed meeting my hopelessly romantic, heroic wedding singer. Are hopeless romantics naïve? Crazy? Or are they onto something worth dying for? ~~Sarah Raplee