My first release! :)

Boomerang Love isn't a fantasy but it is my very own first release! I'm so thrilled!



Boomerang Love- a short story -is an contemporary romance with a Red Hot/erotic heat level set in Australia.

http://samhainpublishing.com/authors/melissa-lopez

Until later~
Mel

New Release: Beaudry's Ghost

My paranormal romance Beaudry's Ghost is now available FOR SALE! (Oh, sorry, did I just scream that out loud?)

You may ask, "Why is she so excited about this book?" I'll tell you. (Yes, I'm channeling Tevye.)

Beaudry is the book of my heart. "The One" for which I became a writer. It combines everything I love - romance, history, legends, ghost stories, North Carolina, and the sea. Did I mention romance? Writing it was like an out-of-body experience. I remember staying up until the wee hours writing, then re-reading my work the next day and wondering "My god, who wrote that?" (In a good way!)

Back in its original incarnation as a Dreams Unlimited then an LTDBooks release, the book won some pretty nice awards and garnered a 4-star review and Reviewers Choice nomination from Romantic Times. Still, when Samhain picked it up, I leaped at the chance to revisit the story, revise and expand it, make it an even better book based on the skills I've gained over the years.

For me, words are fluid things that can almost always be improved upon. I'm an editor in real life, but that doesn't mean I don't depend on my Samhain editor Lindsey McGurk when it comes to my stories! I freely acknowledge I'm my own worst editor. LOL

I'm normally pretty calm when a book comes out, but Lindsey can attest I was a near basket case at one point during the editing process. Like I said, this is the book of my heart, and I felt acutely that this is my last chance to get it right and do these amazing characters justice.

Their voices in my head aren't keeping me up at night any more, so I hope that means I accomplished my goal! :)

Beaudry's Ghost was born of my deep North Carolina heritage. I mean, who couldn't grow up hearing stories on your grandmother's darkened front porch, immersed in the history, legends and lore of of a place, and not have something come out of it later in life? It either messes with your head, or you become a writer. LOL

I'm off to get pre-surgery bloodwork. Nothing big, just fixing up my left foot a bit. Great timing, eh? Release a book, have surgery! But I figured if I didn't do it now, I won't be in any kind of shape for RT Pittsburgh in April. I saw my friend Rosemary Laurey once navigate an RT on crutches, and it wasn't fun! On the other hand, I could just set up camp in the bar and let everyone come to ME for a change!

Popping the champagne,
Carolan
www.carolanivey.com

Wildish Things

I had nearly finished my novella for the Love & Lore anthology before I came up with a title. I mean, it had one, but it didn't feel right. But titles have a way of plopping into your lap when you least expect it.

For this one, it was a rainy afternoon where I had carved out a bit of time to catch up on some non-fiction books I was partway through. In this case it was Patricia Monaghan's "Red Haired Girl from the Bog." I was reading along about her experiences as an American on an extended stay in Ireland, and I ran across a phrase where she was saying that in the past, a woman like her would have been referred to as a "wildish thing."

Plop.

I'll treat you with the prologue to Wildish Things, now available in eBook and in print from Samhain Publishing. Enjoy!

---

The Hag turned over onto her pendulous belly in order to warm her craggy back under the near-midsummer sun.

Earlier in the day a pesky bulldozer had approached one of her favorite wells, but she had taken care of that problem with no more effort than it took to sneeze. One well-aimed glob of snot had glommed up the machine’s engine and sent its muttering human driver in search of a tow truck. Her work was done for the day.

Yet she found she could not relax and soak up the Irish sun in peace. Her breasts were turgid with unspent sexual energy, her legs restless and rubbing against unsatisfying stone. It had been too long since she’d had a man. Centuries. Of old, few were strong enough to withstand her appetite for more than a few minutes. These days, even the few who remembered her name spoke it timidly.

Bollixless creatures, these new men were.

She heard a noise overhead. Head turned to the side, pillowed on a mountain, she opened an eye to peer at one of the silver-winged beasts and its snow-white vapor trail. These days, few people scratched her back with their traveling feet, muttering prayers for safe passage in hopes the Hag would let them pass unharmed. Oh no, it was all smooth wheels and shiny wings. People with things plugged into their ears so they couldn’t hear themselves think, much less hear the cry of a bird, the splash of a salmon in the river, or the very heartbeat of the land as the seasons turned.

Her sounds.

Something about the silver object flying overhead tickled the Hag’s attention. She rolled to her back, cracked open the other eye, watery gaze following its path. She expanded her nostrils and took a sniff. Overhead, the silver bird hit what the pilots thought was a random air pocket. Below, the Hag closed her eyes and sorted through the scents in her nose.

Ah. She smiled and stretched. A woman rode that bird, one who was ready. A wildish thing. She may not yet know it, but soon she would understand. Like the Hag, all she needed was a man. One strong enough to fulfill her every desire without cracking under the onslaught of a woman’s true power.

The Hag shook her mossy hair out of her rheumy eyes, opened her full lips, and called.

Satisfied that events would now unfold as they should, the Hag spread her bare arms and legs wide to the sun.

And awaited her pleasure.

Copyright 2007 Carolan Ivey, All Rights Reserved
www.carolanivey.com

Love & Lore Anthology has been released!

The Love & Lore Celtic anthology is now available for sale from SamhainPublishing.com!

Blurb:
Journey to the heart of Celtic legend.

Samhain is pleased to celebrate its second anniversary with three novellas that will lure you into the labyrinth of Celtic myth and legend.

In WILDISH THINGS, Carolan Ivey brings together an artist who is wounded in both body and spirit, and a sexy Irish bad boy on a Harley. Their whirlwind fling across Ireland takes a dangerous turn when their sexual chemistry awakens the deadly lust of an ancient goddess.

Gia Dawn’s offering of A FAIRY SPECIAL GIFT has it all: A woman who can see fairies and wishes she couldn’t, and a man who promises to help her with her “problem”-for the price of a kiss. Stir in the Celtic god Lugh who wants the woman for himself, rowdy flock of untamed pixies, and a pining Banshee in need of a makeover, and let’s just say there aren’t enough fairy traps in the world to control the chaos.

The HEART OF THE SEA beckons in Sela Carsen’s take on the Selkie legend. When a woman accidentally falls into the sea and turns into a seal, the man she loves believes her drowned. Seven years later, she rescues him from a shipwreck and for one blissful night, she returns to her human form. But only for a night. Can true love overcome the Selkie curse?

Warning: This book contains graphic language, explicit sex, mild bondage, wildly unpredictable gods and goddesses, unruly fairies, wet Selkies, and loads of fun.

Each novella is also available separately as an eBook.

www.carolanivey.com
www.giadawn.com
www.selacarsen.com

Dragons, Dragons, Everywhere!

I don't know if I posted this here yet... My editor went above and beyond the call of duty and created a GREAT video for the I Dream of Dragons anthology, of which my story, Wings of Change, is part.





The anthology will be in print next May, but all five stories are available right now as individual ebooks. Thanks to all of you who've helped put Wings of Change on the Best Seller List over at MyBookstoreAndMore.com! :)


In other news, I spent last weekend at Lora Leigh's Reader Appreciation Weekend (RAW) and had a blast! I met a lot of readers and some of my favorite authors, including Lora herself, Lorie O'Clare, Christine Feehan, and a whole bunch more! I'm still recovering from the sleep deprevation (LOL), but I had a really great time and enjoyed meeting everyone. Watch my official blog next week for a contest where I'll be giving away a T-shirt and some other goodies from the event. :)

Congrats to our Rebecca Goings!!

Available now from SamhainPublishing.com!

In The Gloaming - Pre-Order on Amazon

My trade paperback anthology, IN THE GLOAMING, is now available for pre-order on Amazon.com! This anthology contains the print version of my novella, ABHAINN'S KISS, along with two other stories by J.C Wilder and Isabo Kelly.

Blurb:

Her peaceful world shattered, she has only days to fulfill her destiny. She must defy a curse that dooms her to hide from the sun, and take her rightful place in the Great Circle on the Isle of Avalon. Only Abhainn can restore the balance of Dark and Light, and heal the rift between humans and Fae. That’s a tall order for a one fragile Faery.

Michael Craig is on a quest of his own, one grounded in cold, hard reality. Fairy tales? They’re for children and dreamers. But when he rescues Abhainn from certain death with an accidental kiss, he finds himself thrown into a very different reality. One he’s reluctant to accept, even as it unfolds before his eyes. Only one thing holds him there—Abhainn will die without him.

Abhainn’s life depends on Michael’s kiss, his sword arm…and his ability to believe.

Excerpt:

He grabbed his shirt and pulled it on without buttoning it. He was halfway to the caravan door before he realized the taste on his tongue wasn’t just part of the dream. She must have kissed him in his sleep before slipping out. Still, she had no business being out there alone, no matter how many friendly Fae surrounded them.

The familiar tinkle of her laughter drifted in through the caravan’s half open door. He stepped quietly outside and settled on the driver’s seat to watch the scene before him. The horse, unhitched, grazed nearby; Eoth lay draped across its back, sound asleep. Michael’s gaze swept the stone-littered meadow, and at last he found her.

She sat on a boulder, legs folded beneath her, arms thrown wide. Unabashedly naked as the day she’d been born. His groin tightened as, unobserved, he let his gaze pass over her body. Tiny as she was, there was no doubt that Abby was a full-grown woman, all slender curves and high, firm breasts. The morning light glowed on her pale skin, so fair as to be translucent, traced with river-maps of blue veins, flawless from the tips of her toes to the delicate points of her ears.

All around her flitted a cloud of tiny, winged Fae, who tended to her as if she were a queen in waiting. Which, he realized suddenly, she was. As the last of her kind, she by default was the Queen of the Asrai.

Humming like a swarm of honeybees, the Faeries combed and braided her white-gold hair, washed a smudge of dirt from her nose, handed her damp handfuls of moss with which she cleaned herself, rubbing it over her skin—all her skin—in slow, sensual delight.

More Faeries brought her sips of water and a sticky substance that looked like nectar, cupped in spring flowers. She tipped her head back and accepted their offerings on her tongue, smiling and licking her lips after each taste, catching stray droplets on her fingers and licking them, too.

The ache in his groin hardened into a painful knot. Blood pounded in his ears so hard that for a second he couldn’t trust himself to move. Despite the lust that roared through his veins, he remained conscious of the delicacy of her small, fragile body. She’s like porcelain. Like one wrong touch could break her.

Yet for that second, he understood what had driven Blaen of CraighMhor to risk everything for one night with a Fae.

And he lost it all, Michael reminded himself.

As if she sensed his eyes upon her, she turned her head and looked at him. She blinked once, slowly, and the smile on her face grew brighter. She held out her hand.

Abruptly, the attending Faeries screeched and scattered. Only one stayed, hovering above and just behind her golden head. Its buzzing grew into a snarl, and before Michael’s eyes it changed from a thimble-sized thing to a fox. It bared its fangs and bunched its muscles to spring at Abby’s unprotected back.

With a sickening lurch that took him back to his combat days in the Marines, time slowed to a crawl. Every detail of the scene sprang into sharp relief. Before Michael could do more than shout a warning, Abby’s face went blank.

Then, as the fox sprang, she changed into a statue of clear, hard ice.

The fox yowled in frustration as it clawed and bit at the back of her neck, but managing no more than a few superficial scratches.

Michael took advantage of the time she had given him by lunging into the caravan to retrieve the rusted sword. He lay hands on his rucksack and threw himself out of the caravan, pulling the sword out and dropping the bag on the ground as he ran, spilling the contents.

He sprinted the few yards that separated him from Abby, a hoarse cry in his throat and the sword raised to strike. The fox saw him coming, issued a series of short, harsh barks, then shapeshifted again.

Michael found himself looking up into the face of what could only be described as a vampire-like woman, complete with glistening fangs and black wings sprouting from her shoulders. With a hiss she flew at him, driving him back. He let her come, knowing it would draw the creature away from Abby.

“Come on, come on, bitch! What ya got? Come on!” he growled, goading her with the sword.

The vampiress closed in, and with moves too quick to see, she knocked the sword away then hit him square in the center of the chest with the leading edge of a black, leathery wing. Michael caught his heels on the rucksack and landed on his back, flinging his arms wide to break the fall.

His hand fell on his grandmother’s precious stone, which must have rolled out of the rucksack when he’d dropped it.

Wrapping his fingers around it, he waited, heart speeding to dangerous levels as the vampiress closed within striking distance. Waited, sweating, until her hot breath blistered his face, until he could count the veins in her bulging eyes. Then he swung at her head.

Instead of spurting blood, the broken skin on the side of the creature’s face erupted with huge horseflies the size of golf balls. In moments, the thing had completely dissolved into a cloud of the droning black bugs. Abby’s attending Faeries chased them all away, leaving the morning eerily quiet, as if nothing amiss had happened at all.

Panting, Michael hauled himself to his feet.

“Well done.”

He spun and found a tall, Tolkienesque elf lounging against the side of the caravan, idly examining his fingernails, longbow thrown casually over one shoulder.

Michael relaxed and straightened. “Thanks for the help,” he said dryly.

The elf raised an eyebrow, as if he were actually offended. “You did well enough on your own. Had you needed it, I would have intervened. The Lady chose well.” With that, the elf sauntered away into the trees.

“I will never get used to these people,” he muttered, turning toward Abby as thunder rolled overhead.

Abhainn still hadn’t changed back from the block of ice. It was a perfect replica, captured just as she had been sitting on the rock.

He crouched by the rock, afraid to touch her. “Abhainn. Abby, can you hear me?”
Huge, fat raindrops began to splat the ground.

Maybe she can’t change back.

His mind kicked into gear, looking for a way to keep her from melting and running in rivulets down the side of the rock. But as the first drops of rain struck her head, she shifted back into normal form and fell, shivering and blue with cold, into his arms.

“Jesus, you scared me, woman,” he said, gathering her closer, rubbing her arms. The bare skin under his hands felt like the ice from which she’d just shifted. He quickly lifted her hair to examine the back of her neck. Relief flooded through him. Her skin remained unbroken.

“I…I…knew not…I c-c-could do that,” she managed through clattering teeth. “I-I-I sensed the Mei was behind me and-d-d it j-just happened!” Then, incredibly, she began to laugh. “I wonder…w-w-what else I can do?”

Before he could stop it, anger flared white hot in his chest. How could she laugh? She had come within a hair’s breadth of death, and yet she laughed!

Shaking, not trusting himself to speak, he scooped her up in his arms and strode toward the caravan.

“Mícheál?” she gasped between giggles and shudders of cold. “W-what is it?”

“The fate of your people depends on you,” he gritted out. “And you sit there laughing when your quest almost came to nothing.”

She leaned back in his arms, her laughter fading to a gentle smile. “But it did not,” she said simply. “I have you to protect me. All is well. And I have found that I have powers I knew not I had. Why not enjoy the moment?”

He stopped dead in his tacks, light rain tapping on his head. He had no answer for her.

“Mícheál,” she said gently.

He shook his head, surprised at his inability to speak, jaw clenched tight. She could have died. She could have…

“Mícheál.” This time her lips touched his ear.

At the touch of her breath on his skin, he drew her to him tighter still, buried his face in her hair, inhaling the fresh-rain scent of her. He could find no words to say other than her name.

The skies let loose with a torrent of rain.

~~~
Pre-order on Amazon.com.

Ellora's Cavemen: Seasons of Seduction II (Viking's Pledge by Melany Logen)

I'm so excited!

Mista is terrified of her master, the warrior Raynor. Yet he has never touched her in any way, only offered her his protection. When he returns from a six-month voyage, however, his lust is uncontrollable—and Mista finds him irresistible. But a slave is not a suitable wife for a warrior, and her longing for her native Ireland is more than she can bear.

Raynor will give her anything, including her freedom. As the time approaches for her to return to her homeland, though, Mista realizes she might have given up the only home she knows—or wants.

Check it out!

Melissa