Thursday, July 27, 2017
Indian Summer is an historical romance set in St. Augustine, Florida in 1739, a year before a major siege by the British. Gabriella Deza, the daughter of the Spanish governor, is fast approaching womanhood. Her fifteenth birthday looms on the horizon. She is completely taken by surprise when her father's aide-de-camp, Manuel Enriques, declares his love and asks to accompany her to her birthday party.
Indian Summer isn't currently available, but will be re-released the summer of 2017 along with the sequel, Savage Heart!
Excerpt from Indian Summer
"This is my dance, I believe, Señorita Deza."
Manuel locked eyes with the next candidate for treading on my toes, who cowered under his look. Nodding rapidly, the little rabbit of a man retreated to the corner behind Clara and seemed to take her as his shield of defense.
I graced him with my sincere smile and said, "I promise the next dance is yours, señor."
He bobbed his head rapidly again, retreating even further.
Manuel spoke from the corner of his mouth as we walked to the dance floor. "I don't think you will have to honor that promise, my sweet."
Chortling, I replied with a coquettish toss of my hair. "Why, Señor Enriques, do you intend to intimidate every man here?"
He chuckled secretively as he turned me in a circle under his arm. "If need be, my dear. If need be. I shall have you to myself." He put special emphasis on “shall” as he spun me again and the music began.
Quiet at first, I listened with only half my attention. Suddenly, the orchestra erupted in a wave of the most exciting music I had ever heard! The guitars hammered loudly, the percussion began a beat I was familiar with. The music echoed the pounding of my heart. Manuel chuckled, seeing the surprised look upon my face.
"Do you like my choice? It's a special request I gave them. A dance just for us!" He spun me again, three times in succession.
"I don't know this dance!" I gasped. "I don't know the steps!"
"Listen to the music, Bella. You know this. You feel it in your blood! Would I ever embarrass you? Follow my lead and you will be free!"
The music continued slowly, just a hint of notes on a single guitar. Manuel led me in a few gentle steps, ending in a deep dip. The tempo changed, accelerating into a fast, syncopated rhythm. He swept me into the most amazing dance! The music crashed into me in wave after wave of excitement. The power of it washed over us, setting my heart pounding in my chest with a beat at the same time unnatural, but as much a part of me as breathing.
We spun, stepped, dipped, clapped, stomped and when we got to the end I realized I had just danced my first Flamenco. I had seen this dance many times. The country folk in Spain danced this at their celebrations. The music and tradition had followed us to this new land, where they danced it at festivals. Manuel led me off the dance floor, both of us a little breathless and perspiring. It was then I noticed no one else had joined us in the dance. I looked up at him with a question on my lips. He shrugged casually.
"I asked for a dance alone with you. The gentlemen politely complied."
I narrowed my eyes, feigning a glare. "How much did you threaten them?" I was teasing and he knew it.
He held his fingers about an inch apart. "Perhaps, this much?"
Our laughter filled the courtyard as the next dance began. The orchestra seemed rather let down after the Flamenco. I believe it had been the highlight of their evening as well as mine.
"I need something to drink." My throat was dry and scratchy and I felt hot all over.
Manuel bowed, kissing my fingers, making his way to the punch. As rapidly as they could without being unseemly, my sisters rushed to my side.
"Bella," Maria chirped. "Where did you ever learn to dance like that! My goodness, I've never seen anyone dance the way the two of you did!" Their eyes glowed with happy envy.
"I didn't really know the dance, but Manuel is a strong lead. Was it really so exciting?"
"Exciting?" Maria grabbed my hand to her heart. "My land, girl, I'm all of a flutter! If a man were to ask me into the bushes now, I think I'd go willingly." She giggled. "My insides are on fire."
Irena didn't speak, but she didn't need to. Her blush from her cleavage to her hairline told me she felt the same way. "That was the naughtiest dance I've ever seen! And magnificent!" Irena's eyes glittered. "I should feel as if I had lived a full life indeed, if only I could dance like that once! I don't think Jason knows Flamenco." She pouted, looking disappointed.
Maria nudged her. "Jason is a fine man, Rena, but he has no 'Fire' to him."
Irena bristled at this. "He has plenty of fire!"
"Yes, if you like a slow burn." Maria shrugged. "Now that Captain Du Pont, there is a man with fire blazing in his soul."
I thought my sisters were about to come to blows, when Manuel approached us. He smiled warmly, extending a tray with three cups of punch.
"Am I interrupting something, ladies? If so, I'll take my leave.” He made as if to walk off.
Maria grabbed his arm shaking her finger at him. "No you don't, you naughty man! What a spectacle you made out there!"
She was teasing, I hoped he would be able to tell. In reply, he caught her hand and spun her around under his arm. Then he lowered her into a dip that had her nearly horizontal to the floor! All this with one hand, for he still carried the tray and didn't spill a drop! Raising her slowly, hardly seeming to strain with her weight, he locked eyes with her and his gaze burned into her soul.
"No, not naughty, my dear Maria. I'm wicked."
© 2017 Dellani Oakes
Tuesday, July 25, 2017
Jamie doesn't know many details, but she's aware that Draven is involved in something that he can't talk about. All that he's said is he's doing a favor for a friend and it means getting involved with a skeevy biker gang run by a man named Moose. Needing help, Draven goes to the one person he knows implicitly that he can trust, Agent Charlene Fitzgerald.
The constant rumble of motorcycles was muted here, but still present. It didn't seem that any city in the proximity of Daytona escaped the noise of thousands of motors. The imposing shape of a dark-paned SUV sat on the side the road. Draven's phone buzzed, flashing a text that came from a number he didn't recognize. Since it was a coded message that only Charlene would send, he smiled.
Jamie glanced at it, puzzled. It was a strange image: CKN@@. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"It's Charlene. Our private code. It stands for Cock ‘n’ balls."
"Do I want to know why?"
"It loses some of the humor if I explain. All of it, in fact."
The lights on the SUV flashed once and it rolled over to them, headlights off. The back door opened, the dome light absent.
They had to take a chance that it was Charlene. They had no other choice.
Draven climbed in first, keeping Jamie back until he was sure. When he saw Charlene's smiling face, and the back of her partner's head, he held out his hand. Jamie jumped quickly in and shut the door. The SUV took off with silent power.
"I know you didn't kill him," Charlene said calmly, after introducing herself to Jamie. "So tell me what happened."
Draven gave her a detailed report. The driver, a huge black man named Bramlett, nodded.
"Now Erickson wants my hide on his wall," Draven said.
"Erickson's an idiot of the first order," Bramlett rumbled. "If we'd had our way, we'd have been handling this, but your friendship is well known."
"We were able to intercept the report," Charlene said. "It looks very bad, Draven."
"I'm aware of that. I screwed up. I'm sorry."
"You have nothing to be sorry for. Erickson failed to properly protect his asset. You could have been seriously hurt by Moose's men. Did you give the panic phrase?"
"I don't play nice with others," Draven replied. "Yes. Twice."
"Something isn't right. He should have come in with a full team at that point."
"If you ask my opinion," Jamie said, "it sounds like Erickson's an idiot, or seriously incompetent. I'm not ruling out the possibility that he's up to his dick in dirt."
© 2017 Dellani Oakes
When they decided to open a counseling office, Quaid Jennings and Boyd Stanton didn't expect one of their patients to be killed. Though an odious man, Mr. Overman is still dead under mysterious circumstances. The police detective in charge of the investigation isn't very happy to meet them when they go to identify the body.
When they got to the lobby, an athletic, tall, blonde woman was talking to Oracle. She rose when they came out. Her square jawed face was elegant, the color of her dark eyes hard to distinguish in the dull, fluorescent light.
“Do we have an identification?” she asked Jeremy.
“Yes, ma'am. Detective Chelle O'Brian, this is Dr. Jennings and this is Dr. Stanton. They were Mr. Overman's therapists.”
“Doing a bang-up job, gentlemen,” she said, snapping her lips shut.
Quaid, Boyd and Oracle stared at her, appalled. Even Jeremy had no idea what to say.
“Overman wasn't suicidal,” Oracle said. “I'd bet my license on it.”
“You might have to,” O'Brian said, her eyes flashing dangerously. “Three people in charge of his care, and he offs himself?”
“You can see any of our records,” Boyd said. “With the proper warrants. Overman was many things, but he wasn't a suicide risk. I'd more peg him for homicidal than suicidal.”
“And yet you let him go,” O'Brian said, her tone chilly.
Boyd, wisely, said nothing. Oracle started to open her mouth, but Quaid shook his head.
“Ms. O'Brian, are you a medical professional, mental health specialist? A psychiatrist or psychologist? Social worker?”
Quaid bulled over her words, holding up his hand like a stop sign. “So, it's your completely uneducated opinion that my colleagues and I weren't doing our jobs, and that's why he jumped off a bridge?”
“I didn't say that.”
“That's exactly what you said. You insinuated that we purposely put a patient at risk. We did all we could for him, but he was rude, disrespectful, abusive of our staff and, more than once, took a swing at Boyd and me. He should have been in a facility full time, but they didn't want him either. He was a low down, pain in the ass.”
“So, you cast him aside.”
“I gave him plenty of other resources to call upon. I released him to another facility, who were supposed to follow up and continue his care.”
“But you let him go!”
“You want to know what he said to Oracle? Or to Pearl? He called my friends horrible names, called me a faggot....”
“And you let a word bother you? You're a grown man.”
“No, ma'am. I didn't. But I won't hear my sweet, intelligent Asian receptionist be referred to as a retarded slope eye or my elegant, caring social worker be called a nappy headed bitch. Are you saying that their welfare is less important than his?”
He purposely kept several feet away, not advancing into her personal space. She advanced into his, poking her finger at his chest. Before she could touch him or speak, he took a step back.
“Before you commit assault in front of witnesses, maybe you'd better reflect on what you want to say to me. I did my job, as did Ms. Jones and Dr. Stanton. I'm very sorry that Mr. Overman is dead, but I find it very difficult to believe that he killed himself. I suggest you instruct Jeremy to run a complete tox screen—now, because certain drugs break down rather quickly.” He looked at his watch. “It's been what, nearly an hour?” He eyed her over his raised wrist. “Mr. Overman was officious, obnoxious, and had the most toxic personality of anyone I've ever met. What he wasn't—was suicidal. I think you're looking at a murder or a very sad accident, Ms. O'Brian. I suggest you get cracking. Now, if you'll excuse us, we're tired and would like to get home to bed. We'd be happy to talk to you tomorrow.”
“I want his records.”
“Which we'll be happy to release with the proper warrant,” Boyd said. “I already told you we're willing to cooperate. We won't, however, stand here and take anymore abuse from you. Goodnight, Detective. Jeremy, thank you for your consideration. If you need us to sign something, let's do that and get it over with so we can go home.”
“Sure, Dr. Stanton.” He pulled up the paperwork and printed it for them to sign.
© 2017 Dellani Oakes
Thursday, July 20, 2017
Have you ever read a book that just made an impact on you? Well, that is exactly what Ninja Tattoo did for me!! I was so intrigued by Teague that I just needed more. I had to contact the author and beg her to write another book with Teague. Conduct Unbecoming is just that. Dellani does not disappoint in this book at all. She remained true to her characters and even added me as a new character! The question now is, how do I Get Dellani to write book 3? ~ Aileen Aroma
Welcome to Florida where there are sandy beaches, balmy breezes—and dead bodies on the beach. Unfortunately, the police suspect Teague's friend, and former battle buddy, of the killing. Teague knows Nadeya is innocent, but proving it won't be easy. She's disappeared and the last anyone heard from her, she was looking for this man in connection with her fiancé's murder.
Teague needs to find Nadeya before the police do. He must discover who killed the man on the beach and protect his friends and loved ones. Fortunately, he's not alone. Joined once more by his cousin, Joel McMurtry, they are augmented by one more—Jasper Waters. He's another police officer and former Marine. Adding to their numbers are Vivica, Teague's fiancée, Nadeya and her best friend, Aileen. The bad guys really don't stand a chance.
Join Teague and friends when they dodge bullets, rescue kidnapped victims and take an the airboat ride of their lives. It's an adventure they won't ever forget—provided they live through it.
Excerpt from Conduct Unbecoming
Nadeya waited with her back to the brick wall of the Sheriff's Department. Her dark glasses concealed a good bit of her face, her hair obscured much of the rest. She wore it down and the black tendrils fluttered wildly in the breeze off the river. A tang of briny water reached Teague's nostrils. He smiled, telling Nadeya of the change of plans before placing the call to Isobel.
He told her how to find Old Fort Park and strolled north with Nadeya. They passed the small county courthouse on their left. Teague smiled at a couple of the officers out on break. They were having a smoke, but watching their environment.
Slowing down, Nadeya stiffened. "Are you sure this is a good idea?"
"No. But I don't see a choice here. We could use her help. Her husband has connections."
A silver Maserati circled the park, stopping at the sign on the corner. Teague waved.
"How did you know it was Isobel?"
"No one else around here drives a Maserati. She always had expensive tastes."
The window scrolled down. Teague told her where to go park. He and Nadeya followed on foot. He was pleased to see that there were no other people in the park. Scanning the landscape, he took in details. Two men to the northwest on bikes, near Isobel's car. They were vagrants, but mostly harmless. No doubt, they were making Isobel nervous. The Maserati would attract their attention, as would the woman driving it.
To the south, he spotted a car and that was basically it for at least two blocks all around. There was some activity at City Hall, but not enough to matter. The two of them walked over to Isobel's car. The men on bikes moved on, leering at Nadeya and giving Teague a thumb's up.
"Friends of yours?" she asked.
"No, but I know 'em."
"You know everyone."
She made a face. "Even—over there—you knew everyone. You can walk in a room full of people and know their life stories and be pals with them two hours later. I don't know how you do it. You never met a stranger."
Teague chuckled. "I'm shy as hell, just full of blarney. I learned from my dad."
Isobel got out of her car, clicking the remote. She wore black Louboutin's covered with spikes. Her black pencil skirt was slit on both sides. The ruffles on her black silk blouse fluttered in the wind. Her hair was up in a French twist and she wore a pair of pink Louis Vuitton sunglasses that cost roughly the same amount as Teague's monthly rent. The wind changed and her scent wafted toward him, making Teague's nostrils twitch. He'd always loved the way she smelled. There was something bold and commanding about it that made him feel weak. He stumbled.
Nadeya nudged him, giving him an odd look.
"Sorry," he whispered.
His companion ogled the front of his pants, making him blush. How could Isobel have that effect on him after all this time? He loved Vivica, but here he was sporting a boner for another woman.
"I will pound you, McTeague," Nadeya gritted her teeth as she muttered. "Put that away!"
Isobel stepped forward, arms open to Nadeya. The other woman stood well away, wary and cautious. The hairs on Teague's neck rose. Something wasn't right. Even as careful as they'd been, someone had followed them. Nadeya felt it too. Immediately, the two of them eyed their environment. Across the bridge on a small, innocuous island, sunlight hit metal where none should be.
Reacting instinctively, Teague grabbed Nadeya, pulling her down. His body slammed into the concrete, though she landed on the grass. The window of the Maserati exploded. Broken glass flew in every direction as the bullet buried itself in the headrest.
Isobel screamed hysterically, dropping awkwardly to the ground. Pieces of glass peppered her skin with blood, but she was otherwise unhurt.
"I didn't know. I swear I didn't know!" she screamed. "I didn't know he'd do this."
Teague rose to his knees. Another bullet ripped open the ground beside his right hand. Fucker can't shoot worth dick. Rolling to his left, he took cover behind a huge live oak. He tried to see the island from this position, but it was blocked by the corner of the marina and the angle of the bridge. Dialing the police, he reported the shooting, knowing the gunman would be long gone before they arrived.
© Dellani Oakes 2017
Tuesday, July 18, 2017
It's coincidence that Michael Reuben ended up in Cheyenne, Wyoming. He had car trouble on his way to Alaska, and decided to stay. It's not coincidence that he hit the road as soon as he could, in order to get away from his mother. What can you say about Ma? She's controlling, plays favorites with her kids and is the Queen of the Guilt Trip—and she's on her way from New York City to visit. She's bringing a man with her, and his daughter, Sarena. Knowing how difficult his mother is to travel with, Mike conspires with Sarena to make it an easier trip.
"Am I on speaker?"
"No." Sarena sounded kind of surprised.
I lowered my voice to nearly a whisper. "Is she making you completely insane yet?"
"You can talk a little louder. We've stopped again. She's in the bathroom."
"Yeah, somewhat. Poor Daddy. She doesn't like the interstate much."
"Tip for future reference, Ma doesn't like much about road trips. Whose idea was this fiasco?"
"That I don't know," she said evasively.
"I'm sure he's regretting it already."
Sarena giggled, dropping her voice. I heard the car door open and shut. "You can believe that! I think he regretted it before we even got out of the City. I thought her backseat driving was going to make the poor man blow a gasket."
"Get her talking about her soap operas. It will distract her for awhile. It might make you crazy, but it will keep her off your dad's case and give him a break. When you stop in town, and you will, pick up some gossip rags and celebrity magazines. You'll have a little peace. Also, slip her some Dramamine or Benadryl."
Sarena laughed loudly and I immediately liked this woman. If she could laugh at my devious plans to keep my mother subdued, she was my kind of woman.
"You're evil, Mike. I knew I'd like you. I wish we'd talked to you about this before."
"I can share these tidbits with you because you're not the man dating my mother. Could you imagine me telling him this?"
"Daddy would blow a gasket, for sure. Anymore tips?"
"Got any soft music? Play something quiet, she'll fall asleep. She likes Patsy Cline and stuff like that."
"I'll see what Dad's got in the way of CD's. He's only got a few. So, what kind of music to you like, Michael?"
"Depends on my mood. I'm more of a heavy metal guy, but I'll listen to just about anything if I'm in the mood."
"And if your mood is frisky?"
"Now you make me sound like a puppy. I promise, I'm all grown up and potty trained."
"You're evading my question."
"It's a fairly personal question. Maybe I'm shy."
"You? I venture to say there's not a shy bone in your body."
"Not so much. I'd invite you to find out, but that's maybe not the most polite thing to say to a woman I never met, huh?"
"One thing you'll learn about me, Mike. I'm not awfully shy either. I've seen your picture," she left that statement hanging.
"The one at your brother's wedding."
I was best man under protest. I looked pretty damn good in the tux though. She must have thought so too.
"I didn't even know you existed until my mother called me last week. I'm not up to speed on this whole thing."
"That's okay. You look like a man who can keep up."
"I try not to disappoint."
"Cheese it," she whispered huskily, sounding like Bugsy Malone. "Your Ma's coming."
"Then I'd better say goodbye. Remember what I told you."
"Thanks, Mike. I'm looking forward to meeting you in person."
"Me too. Call me if you need anymore tips."
"Will do. Probably at the next rest stop."
© 2017 Dellani Oakes
Thursday, July 13, 2017
Portia Bledsoe has just come into an inheritance from a great-uncle she barely knew. He left her his home in Florida, as well as enough money to fix it up. She meets Wood Cirroco when her neighbor, Carl (his uncle) introduces them. Wood is a contractor, which she badly needs. When his mother finds out they are dating, she insists upon meeting Portia. Wood's ex-wife caused a lot of trouble and Carlotta wants to make sure he's not repeating his mistake.
We had a wonderful lunch, laughing and enjoying one another's company. I think Carlotta and I were a little tipsy by the time we started home. She sat in the back seat with me, while Carl drove back to his house. I wondered how we'd get her home, because it was quite obvious she couldn't drive herself. I needn't have worried. We got to his house and Wood got the keys to Carl's truck. He and I followed Carl to his mother's house in Ormond Beach. Once she was safely tucked away, Carl rode back with us.
"I want ice cream," Wood said as we passed the Dairy Queen. He pulled over and parked in the lot. I waited for him to open my door and help me out. I was just tipsy enough not to trust my own legs. I clutched his arm as we walked up to the window to order.
Carl walked me to a nearby table and Wood waited for the treats. He seemed to know many of the people, and they all greeted him in a friendly fashion. All except for one man. He was slightly older than Wood, bulky, mean looking. His blond hair was cut in a faux hawk, with mutton chop sideburns. He wore a frown and sported a gold hoop earring on the right ear. He'd arrived shortly after we had and stayed on the edge of the parking lot, not approaching the building. Instead, he stood by his truck door, arms and legs crossed, glowering.
"Isn't that what's his face?" Carl asked when Wood arrived with our treats. He nodded at the blond man.
"Tall, blond and ugly?" Wood flashed a look in that direction. "Yeah."
"Who?" I asked, somewhat worried about the man's presence.
"Monique's retard brother," Wood replied, deliberately raising his voice so the other man could hear.
Unfortunately, the other patrons at the DQ heard as well. Wood didn't seem to care. The blond man shifted slightly, his frown deepening.
"He thinks he's subtle, following me around. What he doesn't realize is, I don't care!" Wood yelled in the other man's direction. "You're violating the restraining order," he hurled at the other man. "You're not supposed to be within five hundred yards. You're less than two hundred. Sorry," he said to all the other customers. "But some people can't seem to figure out when they aren't wanted." He stood, walking over to the truck.
Monique's brother walked on a parallel track, shadowing his movements. He was less than a hundred yards away, muttering and flexing. Wood ignored him and climbed in the truck. I started to follow, but Carl grabbed my arm, telling me to stay put. The brother stood across from the truck, hands in fists, shoulders rounded. He looked like an angry bull, ready to charge.
Wood's phone appeared out the window. I could see him getting a video of the man. He said something that made the other man rush the truck. Furious, he slammed his fist on the hood. Wood continued filming it.
Moments later, two police cars pulled up. I recognized one of them as Joel McMurtry who had arrived the day that we found Hezikiah's body. He and the other officer looked so much alike, I knew they had to be brothers. They approached the truck and the blond monster spun around. He rushed Joel, who zapped him with a taser. The big man fell, body jerking uncontrollably. They moved in and cuffed him. Joel and the other cop lifted the brother to his feet and shoved him in the back of Joel's cruiser. Once he was locked in there, Wood got out of the truck and walked over to greet them.
Everyone at the restaurant stared, wondering what they'd just witnessed. Wood excused himself from the police officers and went to the restaurant. He spoke to the manager and handed him something.
"Blizzards for everyone, courtesy of Mr. Cirocco!"
© 2017 Dellani Oakes
Tuesday, July 11, 2017
Brock Parnell has a serious problem. Tack Carmichael, the man he's hated for the last 30 years, has been killed. Unfortunately, he's become the prime suspect in the murder. He's being harassed by the law and the press. Luckily, he has a few good friends, including his ex-wife, Bonnie. And the assistant district attorney, Adrianna Hasselhoff.
My home phone started to ring. I looked at the caller ID, but didn't recognize the number. It was an out of state call, the area code wasn't one I recognized. It continued to ring a few more times, then the voice mail picked up.
"Brock, it's Bonnie. Pick up, dammit. I know you're home."
Instead, I copied the number down and called back on the cell phone that Sam had given me.
"Bonnie, it's Brock. What do you want?"
"I heard on the news about Tack. What happened? I know you didn't kill him!"
"Honestly, Bonnie, we're trying to piece that together. And thanks."
"Brock, you're many things, but a killer? Good God, no."
"Bon, Tom is here with me. Can I put you on speaker?"
"Sure. What's up?"
I clicked the phone to speaker, making a note to Adrianna not to speak. Bonnie and I are divorced, but she's always been a tad jealous and defensive. Knowing another woman was there might change how she spoke to me.
"Bonnie, did Amy ever say anything to you about Tack being impotent?"
"God, what didn't she say? She was always going off about how he couldn't get it up, not even with all the drugs in the world. He had some kind of emotional problem and was seeing a shrink in Cheyenne for it. He went out of state because he didn't want anyone to know. Of course, that meant that Amy talked that much louder about it. He hadn't touched her in years."
"Have you talked to her since you left?"
"Did she tell you anything? About who she was seeing?" I tried to hedge, but I knew Bonnie would catch on. You don't live with someone twenty years and not know what he's thinking.
"Brock Daniel Parnell, did you tap that sleazy piece of white trailer trash?"
"That's a yes. Oh, good God! I can't believe you humped that puffed up slab of silicone! She's dirtier than a three dollar whore! When did you do her?"
"Shortly after you left. I wasn't in a good place then."
"Drunk and horny, right?" She giggled. "Oh, honey, I told you that big bad boy would get you in trouble."
"All the time." I had to laugh. "They think I killed Tack to get Amy."
Her laughter nearly broke my eardrums. She screeched quite loudly and enthusiastically. "You're not serious?"
"As a heart attack."
"You have too much taste for that. Now for that pretty lady lawyer you've got working for you, I could see you committing all kinds of indecencies. But for Amy? Good God."
"Wait a second. When did you see Adrianna?"
"On the news. They were showing her going in the courthouse with Tommy. So she quit the prosecutor's office?"
"She couldn't continue to form a case against me. She believes me."
"That's so sweet!" The funny thing here is that Bonnie actually meant it.
© 2017 Dellani Oakes
Sunday, July 09, 2017
It's July and time to celebrate! To do that, we've invited two great authors to be on the show. Please join us in welcoming two newcomers to the broadcast.
Caleb Monroe is the author of Breaking Free, a teen reader book from Progressive Rising Phoenix Press. We're so happy to have him on the show. Welcome, Caleb!
Also with us is romance author, Danielle Zwissler, author of The Man I'll Marry, Mommy for Christmas, The Boy Next Door, Yuletide Bride and many more.
Thursday, July 06, 2017
Lone Wolf Tales: A Lone Wolf Series Companion, is a collection of 9 short stories related to the Lone Wolf Series by Dellani Oakes. These short stories explore aspects of the series that are only briefly mentioned in the novels themselves. Each story is set in a different place and time. Step into the world of the Lone Wolf and meet giant cat people, evil despots and a dangerously handsome Galactic Marine.
And Itza Danced: The character of Itza is introduced in The Kahlea – Book 4 of the Lone Wolf Series. Itza is of the Zarbanni people of Bankaywan. Constantly harassed by brigands and marauders, Itza must send a message to all comers to leave her people alone. Unfortunately, the message hasn't been clear enough and she must fight once more for her people.
Blackened: On a backwater planet in the middle of absolute nowhere, Wil Vanlipsig and his men have been sent on another horrendous mission. This time, the odds are decidedly stacked against them. Their objective is to secure and liberate a weapon of mass destruction. Unfortunately, it's more than any of them counted on.
Brothers at Arms: Wil and Marc grew up together, were fast friends and even joined the Galactic Marines at the same time. When tapped for a special unit, they meet Lill Simpson, a vivacious redhead. She sets her sights on Marc, but for some reason, Wil doesn't trust her. Is it paranoia or can she really not be trusted?
Call Me Penny: Caught off guard on the scummy, armpit of planet Wercha, Barbara Stennis – known as Penny, because of her copper red hair – is arrested and forced to join the Galactic Marines. Something fishy is going on and the new recruits grow alarmed as many of their number start to mysteriously disappear at night. Penny finds herself in over her head when her sergeant orders her to investigate.
Fractured: Wil's had a crazy life. Thrown into one hellhole after another, he's always managed to escape. After a mission goes horribly long, he's forced to take a vacation to a distant, isolated planet called New Aussie. While there, he's in an accident. Hovering between life and death, he's rescued by an exotically beautiful woman named Siegra. Strange things happen in the desert, deep in the Heriatis Hills—some of which should never be explained.
Gone But Not Forgotten: When they met, there was a spark of recognition, of longing, that neither Wil nor Matilda could explain. This tale explores not only Wil's past, but Matilda's, explaining why they fell instantly in love.
A Little White Lie: Wil's been on more than one mysterious mission, given ambiguous orders and dropped in a war zone. That doesn't bother him anymore. However, this time, there is more than one agenda in play and Wil must tread carefully if he wants to survive.
Pain Killer: “It's a cakewalk.” That's what Admiral Greyling tells Will when she sends him on a solo mission not unlike the one he'd recently been on. Yet another crazed despot needs to be assassinated so that his people can be—enslaved by some other crazed despot. Wil goes in with only his brains and instincts to keep him alive.
There Shall Be Great Rejoicing: This story, also set on Bankaywan, tells the tale of Sta Hyt Mai's rise to fame and glory as the Champion of Bankaywan. How did Mai rise from her humble beginnings to become the most respected and fame filled woman on her planet?
© 2017 Dellani Oakes
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