Showing posts with label @CherieNicholls. Show all posts
Showing posts with label @CherieNicholls. Show all posts

November 6, 2015

Guest Takeover - Earth Born by @CherieNicholls

Thank you for having me!

Demi isn’t a big talker, so having her tell me their tale was hard work. Well she’s not much of a talker unless you’re a tree. But then we all know that trees are terrible gossips!

I hope you enjoy Earth Born, and the tale of these two crazy people….shifters,…witches…ah man you know what I mean!



Blurb:
Nate Barend’s past has left deep scars. Growing up in foster homes, he never dreamed of his family coming to find him. Why would he, when he remembered so clearly the day they’d thrown him out with the trash.

As an earth elemental, Demi Hills has an affinity with nature—well, most nature anyway. But when her relationship with Nate goes from “friends with benefits” to “it’s complicated,” she can’t seem to shake him. The damn coyote/wolf is like a dog with a bone—or should that be a shifter with a bone?

Stupid mutt.

Excerpt:
With a cautious look around the room, Nate lifted the cup to his nose and sniffed at it. Because if he was sitting here, right now, with these people, someone had to have drugged him.
“I understand we’re probably the last people on earth you’d expect to see.”
That was an understatement of magnificent proportions.
“But once we realized that Alpha Dawson was trying to contact one Nathanial Dawson, we couldn’t stand by and do nothing.”
Trying to contact him? That was a joke. The old Alpha had written, emailed, and even telegrammed. How the hell he had even found a telegram machine and someone to actually deliver it was still a mystery. More importantly why couldn’t these people stand by? It wasn’t like they’d ever bothered before.
“We realize that the normal process would have been to petition the local Shifter Council, but we are racing against time. If we didn’t get to you first to warn you, well things might be very different right now.”
Warn him? That had probably been the third most interesting and shocking thing that had happened to him today.
Not only had he watched a pack of coyote shifters—or at least part of one—ride into town on motorbikes, but when they’d said they’d been looking for him, he started to look for hidden cameras.
But the one thing that amazed him the most, the one that made him question if he’d been drugged, had been when they announced they were family. Actual blood relations of his.
For an orphan and a child of the care system, it was the last thing he’d ever expected to hear.
Some kids in the homes he’d grown up in had dreamed of days like this.
But not him. Never him.
He knew his family, knew exactly where they were. He remembered them all very clearly. Especially the moment his grandfather had taken a scared little six-year-old boy, who’d just lost his parents in a car crash, had barely survived it himself, and handed him over to child services because he didn’t want him.
If he had been born a full wolf shifter, like his father and grandfather, he had no doubt his family would have kept him. But his father had made the mistake of falling in love and mating with a coyote shifter.
The ‘weakness’ of his mixed blood had been too much for the old man to handle.
Now here he was, sitting across the table from his mother’s family, almost thirty years later.
Too late.
He placed the cup down on the table and looked across at the man opposite him.
Apparently they were cousins, but he didn’t remember them, and he definitely didn’t see the family resemblance. They were pure coyotes, with reddish brown hair and cold eyes. Nate’s own leaned more toward natural gray, showing his gray wolf heritage.
The Alpha had introduced himself as Carlos and told him they were cousins. Apparently Nate’s mother and Carlos’ father were siblings. Nate couldn’t remember him, not that he tried very hard. He’d spent a lifetime forgetting about that family who’d clearly forgotten about him.
The second man was Franko, the beta and clearly the less chatty of the two. The man’s gaze made Nate want to reach across the table and punch him in the face, just for the sake of it.
He looked them both over. It was time to remind them this wasn’t their home.
“A few things spring to mind.” He leaned back in the chair as if he didn’t have a care in the world. “One, my name is Barend. Nate Barend. Nathanial Dawson died the day Alpha Dawson threw me out with the trash.”
He raised two fingers, counting off his points.
“Two, I ignored every communication I’ve had from Alpha Dawson. Since the man I called grandfather is dead to me. And three, and this is the most important one.” He leaned forward to emphasize his point. “I really don’t think my family likes having you in their home.”
Low growls, from different species, could be heard.
Carlos, who’d been looking far too self-assured for Nate’s liking, started to look around nervously.
“Little brother, everything okay?” Damian walked into the room from the back garden.
He didn’t need to look to know that Jake was at the other door; and out of sight, but not too far away, would be the foster children of this home, watching and waiting.
“Everything is just perfect.”
“Little brother? You let a cat call you brother?”
The look of disgust on Franko’s face was entertaining, another reason not to have these bigoted coyotes around longer than needed.
“No, of course I don’t allow a cat to call me brother. I allow three cats to call me brother. It’s a shame you won’t get to meet my alpha. I’m sure he’ll be disheartened.”
“Your alpha is your adopted brother?” Carlos asked.
“Yep, and a lion. But hey, we don’t judge here.”
“I’m sure, if I speak to his beta, we can make arrangements to stay.”
“You are.” That shocked him. “But why stay? I have no interest in Alpha Dawson, or you.”
“Alpha Dawson went to great lengths to keep you away from your rightful family. He told us you were dead. Don’t you care why he’s trying to get back in touch now?”
“Nope.” He really didn’t. Perhaps he might’ve once. But not anymore.
“But your life is in danger. Doesn’t that worry you?”
Nate laughed. He couldn’t help it. “Boys, you really have no idea where you’ve come to, do you? My life’s been in danger since the second I left my father’s pack. If you think for a second an old alpha and some long lost cousins are going to worry me, well, it just goes to show how much you really don’t know about me.”
He stood, the chair scraping on the floor as he did. When he was at his full height he looked down at the first blood relations he’d seen in years.
“You know what, there’s a bed and breakfast in town. If you feel you want to stay for a day or two, I won’t stand in your way. But this—” he waved a hand between himself and them, “—isn’t going to happen. I have no interest in you, or Dawson. As long as you remember that, you’re welcome to stay.”
Without a backward glance he headed out of the kitchen and the house and down the back steps. Damian caught up with him as he reached the ground.
“Your grandfather’s been in touch? Why didn’t you tell us?”
He’d thought about it, but what was he going to say? His grandfather, alpha and the man who’d abandoned him, was contacting him? Several of the letters had started off nice enough, but the ones of late had started to sound more like orders.
They’d all grown up as children of the state. He didn’t doubt that his brothers would love to hear from their own blood family. It would’ve been wrong of him to rub it in their faces. Besides, the letters had brought back memories he’d rather have left buried.
The nightmares had come back after the first letter. Dreams that put him back in that car, trapped in the wreck, screaming for his parents, crying for them to save him. But both were already dead.
In his mind’s eye he could still see the blood dripping down his father’s face, past lifeless eyes.
He’d tried to forget, had buried it deep. Until those letters.
So when he said he had no interest in any part of his family, he wasn’t joking.
“I need a drink.” He headed off to town, with the only family he cared about right by his side.

© Cherie Nicholls 2015

Author Info:
Cherie Nicholls is an author of Paranormal Romance. By day she is an IT Manager and by night she whips up worlds where alpha men find their mates and people are always more than human.
Cherie was born and lives in London, UK, and is a daughter, sister, sister-in-law, aunt, aunt-in-law, great-aunt, and godmother in an ever-growing family. She has a passion for shifter stories, most any sport and thimbles…don’t ask.


Find Me Links:

May 29, 2015

Do Authors Play Favorites?

Hmmm… I mused… do authors play favorites? Do they have favorites among their own characters and is this impacted by the number of books they have written and their personal hero type preference? To answer these questions, I enlisted the help of five, fabulous writer friends…

Cherie Nicholls, author of 11 books, recently released Windborn on May 7th, but she thinks Laney from her first book Leashed by a Wolf is still her favorite. Her favorite hero type is strong and protective, the kind of male who becomes unstoppable when they meet the right female. Sounds a lot like Heath, the hero in Leashed by a Wolf.

The author of around 80 books and short stories, Raven McAllan admits she always favors her current hero and heroine. She confesses a soft spot for Athol in the Dommissimma series just because he was so much fun to write and Molly Simpkins from A Most Unusual Mistress because it inspired the Miss Simpkins series. She writes hot characters – strong heroes and feisty heroines, her favorite type.

Alannah Harte modelled Rafe from The Best Part of Breaking Up, her first solo book, after a good friend she liked, but didn’t return her feelings. They remained friends and now Rafe has a special place in her heart.

The author of 54 books and counting, Doris O’Connor falls in love with each of her heroes as she writes them. If she had to pick an all-time favorite couple it would be Sven and Sylvia from her first book The Housewife and the Filmstar. She loves strong, possessive, dominant alphas and tortured bad boys… these types are often featured in her stories.

Jessica Stevens is the author of 2 books with her second book Behind the Makeup just released May 5th. She told me she always falls for her main characters although Alana and Nick are especially special since they were part of her first solo publication.

There’s something about a ‘first’ of anything… A first kiss, a first love, and, apparently, a first book. Many of the authors I interviewed noted characters from their first books were still their favorites. It also appears favorite character types influence the characters written.

I’m no different from the rest. Gabe from my first book Dream Hunter, a strong, protective man who confidently knows what he wants, is my favorite, hands down.

I’m sure you’d find many of your favorite authors have a special place in their heart for their first characters and incorporate their favorite character types in their books.
Readers, do you have favorites? Let me know in the comments. Thanks!

Bios

Cherie Nicholls is an author of Paranormal Romance. By day she is an IT Manager and by night she whips up worlds where alpha men find their mates and people are always more than human.

Cherie was born and lives in London, UK and is a daughter, sister, sister-in-law, aunt, aunt-in-law, great-aunt, and godmother in an ever growing family. She has a passion for shifter stories, most any sport and thimbles...don’t ask.  


Raven McAllan lives in Scotland, along with her husband and their two cats—their children having flown the nest—surrounded by beautiful scenery, which inspires a lot of the settings in her books.

She is used to sharing her life with the occasional deer, red squirrel, and lost tourist, to say nothing of the scourge of Scotland—the midge.

Her very understanding, and long-suffering DH, is used to his questions unanswered, the dust bunnies greeting him as he walks through the door, and rescuing burned offerings from the Aga. (And passing her a glass of wine as she types furiously.)

Alannah Harte grew up in the south of Ireland beside the sea. She still calls this beautiful part of the world home. Her background is in education. She loves drama and debating and has been successful in both. Her writing played second fiddle to these activities for a decade but in 2010 she took up the typewriter again.


Glutton for punishment would be a good description for Doris O’Connor... at least that's what she hears on an almost daily basis when people find out that she has a brood of nine children, ranging from adult to toddler and lives happily in a far too small house, cluttered with children, pets, dust bunnies, and one very understanding and supportive husband. Domestic goddess she is not.

There is always something better to do after all, like working on the latest manuscript and trying not to scare the locals even more than usual by talking out loud to the voices in her head. Her characters tend to be pretty insistent to get their stories told, and you will find Doris burning the midnight oil on a regular basis. Only time to get any peace and quiet and besides, sleep is for wimps.

She likes to spin sensual, sassy, and sexy tales involving alpha heroes to die for, and heroines who give as good as they get. From contemporary to paranormal, BDSM to F/F, and Ménage, haunting love stories are guaranteed.


Jessica Stevens was born in Northern Ireland and moved to London a few weeks after, where she grew up with her parents and siblings. As a child, she was always writing songs and poems, so it was only natural that Jessica should find her feet in writing Romance. Jessica now lives in Bedfordshire with her husband, their three children and their dog. Much of her working week is spent cooking and looking after their three small children and the family dog. At weekends, she tries to spend as much quality time with her family and can often be found roaming woods and other opened spaces, desperately trying to run off some of her boy's endless energy, much to the objection of her 'growing up way too fast' daughter.



April 17, 2015

Book Spotlight - Wind Born

Welcome, Cherie Nicholls, it's great to have you for a visit! Wind Born looks like an awesome story! As a paranormal fan, I love books about shifters... Good luck with your new book, out on May 7th!



Thank you for having me!

Ok this is my book, Wind Born and it’s been a little bit of a labor of love. Those who know me, know that I’m not always able to dedicate the time I’d like to writing. Wind Born has taken me over a year to write, seriously.

But this annoying Air Element just wouldn’t leave me alone, so I was forced to write her story. Man when you’re a High Priestess you sure do expect everyone to do as you say… rude!
Let me introduce you to Aura and her best friend, Luka.

Blurb:

Luka Barend is an alpha lion shifter, member of the Shifter Council, teacher, and big brother. He's also stuck firmly in the “friend zone.” In point of fact he is King of the Best Friend zone. Sometimes it really sucks to be him.

Aura Vietor is a High Priestess, an air elemental witch, and a woman who really, really wants Luka to realize that his best friend is actually a woman, with needs. Many, many dirty needs. Stupid blind lion shifter!

Excerpt:

Luka lay facedown on his bed and wondered, not for the first time, what he could’ve done in a previous life to be cursed with a family like this.

Granted, what with them all being orphaned at young ages and ending up in children’s homes, he’d not had much choice. But still he must’ve really pissed off a couple of gods in a previous life if this crazy menagerie was his punishment.

“So I said to her, ‛Baby, if you’re impressed now, you should see what I can do with it.’ And let me tell you, she was really impressed.”

He looked up at one of his younger brothers and glared. In nature, lions and wolves didn’t mix. Sadly, that wasn’t the case here. He was a lion shifter, and Nate—well, Nate was a pain-in-the-ass wolf-coyote shifter. Another perk of being in an adopted, mixed breed family.

“Is there a reason you’re in my house?”

“Sure.”

He waited, but Nate didn’t seem to want to offer more.

“Nate, it’s been a long day. I’ve been in a council meeting for the last five hours. Tell me why you’re here before I shift and bite your tiny little wolf head off.”

“Seriously, bro, since you made the council, your fun meter has dropped, like, twenty percent.”

“Nathaniel!”

“Geez, chill. I’m here because Aura was looking for you. Something about a ritual and the lake. If she needs a sex sacrifice, I’m totally up for that.”

Luka dropped his head back to the bed and groaned.

“Please tell me you didn’t offer her your services.”

“I thought about it, and then I remembered the last time I kindly offered my time and how it took a month for the green color to fade from my fur.”

“Smart move. I’ll give her a call. Now get out.”

“I’m crashing here tonight,” Nate threw over his shoulder as he headed for the door.

“You have your own place.”

“Yeah, but your place is closer. I mean I’m literally already standing in it. So, win.”

He didn’t argue as Nate closed the door. It was true he did have his own place, but more often than not, Luka would walk into the kitchen to find one or more of his siblings there.

He was sure some psychologists would say it had to do with their childhoods. How losing their parents at such young ages had affected them. Now they would cling together, needing each other’s presence to feel secure and connected.

Personally, he thought that was all crap and they just liked eating him out of house and home.
With a resigned sigh, he rolled onto his back and grabbed his phone off the bedside table.

He punched the quick-dial number and waited for the call to be answered. It didn’t matter that it was near midnight. There wasn’t a worry that he’d wake up the person at the other end. Aura was a night owl, something he’d learned as a kid.

“About goddamn time, freak,” was the greeting he received. As tired as he was, he couldn’t help smiling.

“Sorry if I wasn’t waiting by the phone for your call, hag.”

“What were you doing? Off licking your own ass?”

“No, I was with the council planning our witch hunt.”

“Yeah, like you’d have any chance against us.”

“Us? Who said anything about the others? Nope, we’re just planning on hunting whining air elemental witches.”

“Flea-ridden alley cat.”

“Reject from The Wizard of Oz.

There was silence on the other end for a second before he heard the snorted laugh.

The sound warmed his heart. Aura might be an air elemental witch, a rare breed of witch to say the least. She might even be one of the most powerful magical women in the world. But first and foremost, she was his best friend. And wasn’t that all sorts of fun. Somewhere in their teen years he’d landed not only in the friend zone, but he was in point of fact, king of the best-friend zone. Yay him.

“So what did that boring group of dried up has-beens have to say this time?”

“That group of has-beens is the authority around here, and I happen to be a member, in case you’ve forgotten.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. I told you when they asked you to join that you’d be at least nine hundred years too young. But no, you wouldn’t listen. So deal with it, kitten.”

“No, please, Aura. You’re drowning me with your admiration.”

“Bite me.”

“Only if you ask me nice.”

He heard her breathy laugh come down the line again and willed his body not to react. He’d have more chance swimming up a waterfall.

“So, I hear you were looking for me,” he said, and tried hard to distract his body and the part of him that was getting hard at the thought of her luscious mouth on it.

“Sure was. The full moon is coming.”

“And? Happens all the time.”

“Yes, I know that, o wise one. But this one is different. It’s a blood moon. Rare and very powerful. I need to have a ceremony down at the lake. It’s going to happen, but I figured I should get your approval first, what with you being all council-like now. That way the boring old farts can’t shut me down.”

“You ask so nicely too.”

“You want nice? Okay, fine.” He closed his eyes. He knew what was coming and so did his body. 

“Please, Luka. Oh, oh, oh, God, please, Luka,” she panted down the line. “I promise to be a good girl, really good…oh, mmm, so good.”

He swallowed hard and forced out a laugh. “You’re getting better at that.”

“I should be. Practice does make perfect.”

That dragged a silent snarl from him. The thought of another man’s hands on what he’d always considered his had his lion pawing to get out.

“Fine, have your little magic show at the lake. But don’t poison the lake, don’t burn anything down, and, Aura, if you really must be naked, at least put up a border spell so I don’t find a group of teenagers all standing there watching you and your coven.”

“Man, Nate was right—you really have lost your fun side. Okay, fine, Mr. Prude. I’ll make sure the poor innocent boys are shielded from our perfection. I guess I shouldn’t really ruin them for all the other women.”

“I appreciate it. Now go away. I have sleeping to do, and your cackle grates on my last nerve.”

“Yeah, love you too, twinkle.”

He hung up, dropped the phone back onto the table, and lay back down.

Luka stared up at the ceiling and wondered again if the gods were messing with him.

© Cherie Nicholls 2015




Author Info:

Cherie Nicholls is an author of Paranormal Romance. By day she is an IT Manager and by night she whips up worlds where alpha men find their mates and people are always more than human.

Cherie was born and lives in London, UK, and is a daughter, sister, sister-in-law, aunt, aunt-in-law, great-aunt, and godmother in an ever-growing family. She has a passion for shifter stories, most any sport and thimbles…don’t ask.




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