Has Marilyn Baron crossed over to the DARK side?

Halloween is creeping up on us. So beware. The Halloween holiday is a perfect time to celebrate my latest release, “Dead Mix.” My writing does not usually trend toward the dark side. In fact, I’ve had three short stories about angels (A Choir of Angels, Follow an Angel and The Stand-in Bridegroom) published by TWB Press http://www.twbpress.com/achoirofangels.html and my publisher calls me the Angel Whisperer. He even created a special Angel Whisperer video for me, which you can view on his site. So what’s happened? Am I disillusioned? Depressed? Focused on death? Not really. A little devilishness has surfaced from my subconscious. And I kind of like it. Spooky…

In my new e-short story, Dead Mix, http://www.amazon.com/Dead-Mix-ebook/dp/B008P4LFI4, the devil goes down to Georgia. Roswell, Georgia, and more specifically, The Lion’s Den music store. Enter at your own risk. The proprietor there, Devlin Burns, specializes in mixing music to die for...on CDs that are guaranteed to knock you dead by the final note. As the citizens of Roswell go missing, one man, Daniel Craig, ventures into town on the hunt for lost souls, a search that will change his life, forever.

In romance, a HEA ending is required and Dead Mix is no exception. The hero and heroine do get their happy ending. I wouldn’t have it any other way. But the road to (well you know) is not paved with good intentions and the devil you know is better than the devil you don’t know. By that I mean you don’t really know who you’re dealing with in Dead Mix, a higher power or a bottom feeder. But don’t worry. Dead Mix has my trademark humor, surprise ending, and yes, a happy ending, after all.  I hope you’ll give Dead Mix a spin.

On a recent trip to Colorado, I was definitely in devil-mode, staying up all night, dreaming up my next short story, “The Files That Death Forgot,” which has not yet been published. I already have an angel trilogy—and bad things come in threes—so I feel sure I will complete my Angels & Demons cycle with a third dark short story.

In “Under the Moon Gate,” my latest novel, a romantic thriller set in modern day and WW II Bermuda, which will be released from The Wild Rose Press in spring of 2013, one of my central characters wrestles with his very dark side and has to decide if he’ll give up his mission for love.

What about you? Does your dark side come out when you write?  Or only when the moon is full?

Georgia Author Marilyn Baron, a public relations consultant in Atlanta, writes humorous women’s fiction, humorous paranormal short stories and romantic suspense. Marilyn’s short stories “A Choir of Angels,” “Follow an Angel,” “The Stand-in Bridegroom,” and “Dead Mix,” can be found at TWB Press at http://www.twbpress.com/deadmix.html.

Her women’s fiction, The Edger, coauthored with her sister, Sharon Goldman, is available at http://www.amazon.com/The-Edger-ebook/dp/B006Y3P12Y. Barnes & Noble and Smashwords links at http://www.petitfoursandhottamales.com/marilyn-baron/. RT Book Reviews gave The Edger a 4/12-star rating in their September 2012 issue.  The Edger also received first place in the Suspense Romance category of the 2010 Ignite the Flame Contest, sponsored by the Central Ohio Fiction Writers chapter of Romance Writers of America. Her next book, “Under the Moon Gate,” a romantic thriller set in contemporary and WW II Bermuda, will be released from The Wild Rose Press in spring 2013.

Find her on Facebook at http://www.facebook.com/#!/pages/Marilyn-Baron/286807714666748 and follow her on Twitter at https://twitter.com/MarilynBaron.

She blogs at Petit Fours and Hot Tamales at www.petitfoursandhottamales.com.

Her novel Sixth Sense finaled in the Georgia Romance Writers 2012 Unpublished Maggie Award for Excellence in the Paranormal/Fantasy Romance category. Marilyn is a member of Georgia Romance Writers, Romance Writers of America and Marketing For Romance Writers.

Another peek for a Sunday treat!

Faolan scrubbed his hands against the evening stubble of his chin.  “This is insanity!” he groaned.   His self-control ebbed away like the tides from the pull of the moon.  This golden-eyed seductress that had landed in his midst had to be some sort of trap.  He reeled and shook his fist in Maxwell’s face, just inches from his friend’s nose.  “Bed her?  Do ye really think by lying with the woman I’ll be able to get her out of my mind?”

Maxwell followed close behind Faolan as soon as he jerked back around to renew his pacing.  “Think about it, Faolan.  Ye’ve been attracted to fair maids before and once ye tasted them, ye easily set them aside.  It’s the wolf in ye, man!  Your thrill is in the hunt.  Ye always want what ye have yet to catch.”

At Maxwell’s observation, Faolan pulled up short.  He whirled back around where he found himself once more nose to nose with his adamant friend.  “Ye actually think if I relent and lie with Ciara and assert my rights as her husband; ye actually think I’ll be able to put her aside and go on with my life as though I never met her?”

With a shrug of his shoulders, Maxwell tossed his hands in the air.  “It’s either lie with the woman or don’t lie with the woman.  Which is it going to be?  So far, ye havena bedded the lass and ye already know ye’re miserable.  In my mind, ‘tis time to test the other option to see if it brings ye any better results.”

“I will kill ye if this doesna work,” Faolan growled, yanking open the door leading down from the battlements.

The Highlander’s Fury – available now from these places:

AMAZON      THE WILD ROSE PRESS    BARNES & NOBLE ALL ROMANCE EBOOKS

The dark side of a child's prayer...

Monsters don’t just live in closets. Or in the movies. Or under the bed. Sometimes they look just like you and me. They even trick other unsuspecting adults into believing they’re wonderful people.

When these monsters prey on their children, they scar the child forever. They even distort something as simple as a child’s bedtime prayer into something dark and filled with desperation.

Now I lay me down to sleep:

If I stay real still with my eyes closed tight, maybe they’ll leave me alone for just a little longer. I wish my blanket hadn’t slipped away but I don’t dare pull it back over my shoulders. If they hear me move, they’ll know I’m awake.

I hear him. His steps sound heavy. He’s bringing the bucket of water and ice. It splashes on the floor as my bedroom door bangs open. I squeeze my eyes tighter shut. I can’t move. There’s no place to hide and it will only make him worse. The cold water makes me gasp. It hurts but not as bad as the sharp ice.

“Get out of bed,” he shouts. “We have to cut wood today. You’re going to help and you’re going to like it.” He whacks the bucket against the door facing as I slide across the wet floor. “Get this mess cleaned up before you come to the kitchen and don’t even think about telling your grandparents. They already know how lazy you are.”

I can’t wait for Monday. I get to go back to school.

I pray the Lord my soul to keep:

My parents said I was the worst thing that ever happened to them, the biggest disappointment of their lives. God won’t want my soul. I’m not good enough.

If I die before I wake:

Sometimes I think it would be better to die. At least that way, they can’t get me anymore. But the preacher said when we die; we all meet up in Heaven. They’re mean to me. I don’t want to see them when we’re all dead. The preacher’s eternity sounds like a long time for them to treat me bad.

I pray the Lord my soul to take:

No. I don’t want the Lord to take my soul. He can take them and just leave me someplace else. I’d rather be alone.

Energy rising...

As the veil thins and magic fills the air, my soul renews and my spirit soars. Welcome back, lovely Fall. I've missed your crisp cool days and the colors you bring to my world.

Two Become One

Bless this pair of hearts so true.

Make their troubles rare and few.

Keep love and laughter in their days.

Grant them joy in every way.

What once was two join as one.

Together eternal.

Never undone.

September 22, 2012, our family will gain a very wonderful young man. Soul mates and true love aren't just in romance novels. ;-)

The dialogue of planning a wedding…

Next month, my oldest daughter marries the man of her dreams. He proposed to her last December. Since then, some very interesting bits of conversation have surfaced while we’ve traveled (survived) the path of planning for the big day. By the way, this child of mine is by nature the very detail oriented, almost obsessive compulsive organizer of all things. Yes. Wedding planning has propelled her strategizing to frightening new heights.

Conversation between just engaged future son-in-law (FSIL) and his mother:

FSIL: *bragging voice* “I don’t have to worry about her turning into some sort of bridezilla, Mom. You know how level-headed she is. Everything will be fine.”

FSIL’s Mom: *knowing smile toward her poor deluded son* “Whatever you say, dear. I just don’t think you realize how important this day is in a girl’s life. It’s a day they all dream about.”

Three days later FSIL calls his mom, whispering into the phone while hiding in a safe place.

FSIL: *panicked whisper* “Mom. We have wedding books. Lots of them.”

FSIL’s Mom: *stifled giggle* “Really?”

FSIL: “And binders. And magazines. And a folder with dates. And an appointment with a wedding planner.”

FSIL’s Mom: “That’s nice, honey.” *knowing chortle*

Conversation between daughter (Bride-to-Be or B2B) and her younger sister (Matron of Honor or MoH) and me (Me) during the FIRST wedding party dress fittings. (Yes. There is never just one fitting.):

B2B: *determined, chiding tone* “If you don’t suck it in, I’ll never get it zipped.”

MoH: *teeth clenched about to kill her sister tone* “It’s my freakin’ rib case. If I suck in more air, it’ll just get bigger!”

B2B: *exasperated huff* “Then blow it out and don’t breathe any more ‘til I tell you.”

MoH: No reply. Just looks at me in the mirror with a “you better do something or I’m going to be an only child” glare.

Me: “Maybe we need to try a different style?”

They didn’t kill each other and here’s an iPhone shot of the lovely Matron of Honor.

Granddaughter is going to be a junior bride’s maid. As long as she got to twirl in front of all the “magic mirrors” as she called them, she was happy.

Conversation between daughter (B2B) and hubby (Father-of-the-bride or FOB):

B2B: *threatening I-have-been-pushed too far tone* “You are NOT wearing your kilt to my wedding!”

FOB: *amused that he’s miffed his daughter tone* “Why not?”

B2B: “It clashes with my colors.”

Me: I don’t say a word, just give Hubby the “look” signaling I have heard enough of him pestering B2B.

FOB: *resigned tone* “Fine. I’ll wear the damn tux.” *brighter tone* “But I’m wearing my kilt to the rehearsal dinner and the reception!”

B2B: *knows she doomed so dismisses him with a wave* “Fine.”

Conversation between B2B and myself.

B2B: *strained patient tone she always uses when she’s ready to launch into a lecture* “Mom. Have you found your dress yet?”

Me: *Living with hubby for thirty-three has ruined me. I can’t resist teasing her just a bit.* “I’ve decided I’m wearing nothing but my pearls.”

B2B: No reply just a stony stare.

Here’s the dress SHE picked out for me since I’m only an expert on jeans.

Conversation between B2B, MoH and myself in the shoe store.

B2B to me: “Here. These shoes will look great.”

Me: “I don’t want any heels. I’ll break my neck.”

B2B: “You can’t wear flats with that dress. Try these on.”

Me: “They hurt my feet.”

B2B: “Can you walk in them?”

Me: *sullen tone* “Yes.”

B2B: “Just wear them to the wedding and for a little while at the reception.”

MoH: “I like them.”

Me to MoH: “The wicked things are yours after September 22^nd.”

MoH: “Sweet!”

Here’s the wicked shoes AND the comfortable pair I’ll be changing into once I’m given permission.

Most recent conversation (text messages) between myself and bridezilla…er…B2B:

Me: “How many days?”

B2B: “35.”

Me: “Holy crap!”

B2B: “I know! I’m about to hit ultimate freakout.”

Me: “Yes. We know.”

**Disclaimer: Bride-to-be is normally a very patient, loving soul. We all look forward to a return to her usual fun-loving personality once “demon planning bridezilla” is successfully exorcised on September 22^nd. 

Marriage of convenience or recipe for love?

I’m so pleased to host the very talented Sandra Dailey at my cyber home today. And guess what? Sandra’s giving away a pdf copy of her new release, The Chief’s Proposal. So, don’t forget to leave a comment after you enjoy her post. I’ve decided Sandra is also a bit of a tease. She’s piqued my interest with a personal story that we’re going to have to wrangle out of her at some point in the future! Join me in welcoming Sandra and you’ll see what I mean. Welcome Sandra!

Thanks for hosting me on your blog today, Maeve. I can’t wait to meet your friends.

I’ll start by telling you all a little about myself.

I live in North Florida with my husband of thirty plus years. I’ve included a picture of a place just north of us called the Okeefenokee Swamp. It would be south of the area where The Chief’s Proposal takes place.

I’ve had a list of careers in the past, but none have been as much fun as writing. Unlike most of my peers, I wasn’t born with the burning desire to write. What I was born with was a huge imagination.

One day a few years ago, I was confined to my house after surgery. I had just moved and my supply of unpacked books was thin. I finally found one I hadn’t read. I opened that book and it inspired me. Yes, it was the worst book I’d ever tried to read. I thought to myself that I could do better. I opened my computer and went to work. That first manuscript is still sitting in a box. Since then, I’ve taken a few writing classes and here I am.

My new release, The Chief’s Proposal, is dear to my heart. Not only is it my debut, it’s also a marriage of convenience story. My own marriage began as ‘an agreement’. That’s a longer story then I have time to tell today. However, as I said above, we’ve now been married for over thirty years. I can’t imagine living with anyone else. I think my hero and heroine in The Chief’s Proposal feel the same now, but in the beginning they had a pretty rocky start.

Here’s an excerpt of my hero and heroines first morning after meeting:

Just as Ginny began to drift off, a loud clatter came from down the hall. It was followed by a stream of cusswords. Someone was breaking into the house. Could this night get any worse?

Ginny threw on the light robe she’d left on the end of the bed. She groped around in the dark for a weapon. She grabbed something solid from the dresser and slowly sneaked down the hall. The light was on in the kitchen. She flattened herself against the wall and peeked around the doorframe.

“You a coffee drinker?” Brett stood by the stove looking as gorgeous, and as formidable, as he had the night before.

“All the noise woke me up.”

Brett raised a brow. “Yeah, well, your hair dryer was a nice surprise at three o’clock this morning too.

Here’s another rule. No loud noises while I’m sleeping.”

“Sorry.”

“So, what’s with the duck?” he asked, nodding at her hand.

Ginny looked down to find she was holding a wooden decoy duck by the neck. So much for showing confidence and class.

The Chief’s Proposal has a few laughs and a little suspense and a lot of sexual tension.

You can find my book at:

The Wild Rose Press http://bit.ly/PSiSNR

Amazon for Kindle http://amzn.to/MCNbDU

Barnes & Noble http://bit.ly/RTDJ01

You can find me at:

www.sandradailey.com

www.sandradailey.blogspot.com

www.facebook.com/sandradailey.author