Tangled Web Super Book Blast

 

Tangled Web

by Angela Whisenhant

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GENRE: Romantic Suspense/Christian

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BLURB:

One bad decision can change your life forever. Alyson Carter has always put her family first, so the small town of Sage Grove is shocked to learn she’s abandoned them for a man she met online. Seeking a more exciting life, she moves to his horse ranch in Colorado.

Attempting to adjust to life without her, her husband, Kurt, accepts an opportunity to train with the FBI, reluctantly allowing their daughter, Lacy, to move in with a family friend. When the friend is kidnapped, it’s discovered Lacy was the intended target. Pursued by unknown assailants who will stop at nothing to catch her, Lacy finds herself scared and alone. She turns to her mother for protection, unaware that her mother’s secluded mountain sanctuary has become a prison. Alyson discovers she’s merely a pawn in the deadly game of a man she thought she knew. Secrets and lies draw her family onto a collision course with cold-blooded killers.

Her ill-fated decision has placed them all in danger, and she is forced to confront her enemy head-on to protect herself and her daughter. Now she must depend on a God she turned her back on and the husband she left behind to save them both.

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Excerpt

As she was thinking, she scanned the books titles on Mr. Stewart’s shelves. He had everything from classics to textbooks. She started randomly pulling books out. This wasn’t a movie, but there was always the chance that something was hidden among the books. It was about as likely as finding a hidden compartment in one of his drawers. A loud creak shattered the silence. Lacy had heard that same creak every time the back door was opened or closed. Finally, one of the Stewarts must be home. She started to walk to the door and stopped. Maybe it was intuition or maybe she was just paranoid after last night, but something wasn’t right. 

Lacy walked to the window and peered through the blind. She didn’t see any cars parked in the drive, and she hadn’t heard the garage door open. The house was as silent as it had been when she arrived—so quiet she could hear the large antique clock ticking on the credenza.  She listened at the office door and heard numerous footsteps throughout the house. There were no voices, which meant they didn’t want anyone to know they were there. She quietly closed and locked the door, hoping to buy herself some time while she figured out what to do. She could go out the window, and try to make a break for her car. She looked through the blind again and scanned the street in front of the house. On the opposite side of the road, she saw a black SUV that looked very familiar. The car from last night! Suddenly, her heart was pounding in her chest. This could not be happening again. 

 Pushing the shade to the side, she reached for the lock on the window. Nothing—the windows didn’t open! Then she walked to Mr. Stewart’s desk and reached for the clock on the credenza. If she had to protect herself, it was the only thing in the office that looked like it could do any damage. She wrapped her fingers around it, and started to lift it, but wouldn’t budge. It must be heavier than she thought, so she grabbed it with both hands. She still  couldn’t lift it. It was impossible for that clock to be too heavy to lift. 

She inspected the clock and discovered it was bolted to the desk. This was not merely a decorative antique clock. The time was wrong, and she noticed that although the clock was ticking, the second hand wasn’t moving. Expecting the door to fly open at any time, her hands trembled as she unlatched the round glass door covering the face of the clock. A bolted-down clock that ticked but never changed the time had to be significant. She took her finger and slowly moved the minute hand around the face of the clock. When the clock reached twelve o’clock, she heard a soft click. She ran both hands over the clock, trying to discover what secrets it was hiding. Through the wall she heard someone in the room next door. Her time was running out. She was trapped in the office with windows that didn’t open. It was over…

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AUTHOR Bio and Links:

Angela has been a passionate reader her whole life and that love of reading developed into a love of writing. She is excitedly awaiting the publication of her first novel, Tangled Web. She wants to tell the stories of real people who make real mistakes and, yet find real redemption. People who are leading normal lives and suddenly find themselves thrust into extraordinary circumstances. Sometimes they make good decisions and sometimes bad decisions. But either way they must live with the consequences.

Much of her inspiration comes from her life in a small town and her love of all things suspense. Her perfect storm is when the two collide. Crime in a small town impacts everyone because of the close ties.

Angela lives in Texas with the three loves of her life; her husband Leslie and sons, Kyle and Chase. Other than writing, she loves coffee, 80’s music, hiking in Colorado and HGTV. She aspires to live a joyful life, always chase her dreams and never settle for mediocrity.

Find her here:

Website | www.angelawhisenhant.wordpress.com/

Facebook |www.AngelaWhisenhantAuthor

Twitter | @angela_whiz

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GIVEAWAY

Angela will be awarding a $5 Amazon GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour.

 http://goddessfishpromotions.blogspot.com/2015/10/book-blast-tangled-web-by-angela.html


a Rafflecopter giveaway

 

Haunted Open House Blog Hop -The winner of my Gift Cert is....

KRYSYKAT!

Congratulations - your prize is on its way! 

Thank you to everyone who stopped by and commented on my blog - I hope you enjoyed your visit and had fun visiting the other blogs as well. 

Have a happy and safe Halloween!

by Moonlight - bargain boxed set

Colonel Brandon's Widow and Willoughby - Book Tour Spotlight

BOOK INFORMATION

TITLE – Colonel Brandon's Widow and Willoughby: a Jane Austen 'Sense and Sensibility' sequel AUTHOR – Marianna Green GENRE – Historical PUBLICATION DATE – August 2015 LENGTH (Pages/# Words) - 33,000 PUBLISHER – Self COVER ARTIST – Period Images/ Nancy Design

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BOOK SYNOPSIS

Mrs Brandon, the former Marianne Dashwood, is now a widow, and not yet twenty-five.

Her former admirer Willoughby is as unhappily married as ever, and the thought that she is free to marry again drives him to distraction. He has continued in his dissolute lifestyle, which Marianne abhors, while his wife Sophia's life has been poisoned by jealousy of Marianne.

Marianne urges him that the only possibility of happiness for Willoughby and his wife is for him to give up his empty pursuit of pleasure - but now the Colonel is gone, Marianne finds that she can no longer push aside thoughts of Willoughby easily herself; she must find some way of occupying her own empty hours.

Willoughby retains his rascally charm, which an older and wiser Marianne is determined to resist; Elinor and Edward are as astute as ever, while Sir John and Lady Middleton are as foolish. Mrs. Jennings remains determined to marry off all her associates as before, while Sophia Willoughby is even more sour as the wife of the man she wanted, and Willoughby's friends are suitably cynical rakes.

This sequel to Jane Austen's 'Sense and Sensibility' strives to emulate some of the light ironic touch of the inimitable style of Jane Austen; it is both funny and sad, and is told as dark comedy.

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BUY & TBR LINKS

AMAZON KINDLE US AMAZON KINDLE UK

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EXCERPT

'The union of the Willoughby’s only resembled that of the Brandon’s in being childless. Unlike the latter couple, they had no common interests to compensate, unless an unfortunate tendency to over indulge in wine and other stimulants could count as a mutual source of diversion.

It is true that they did share in common a manner of relating to each other that involved raised voices behind slammed doors, angry silences and periods of cold civility; but this shared inclination brought them no closer together.

It could be further urged on their behalf , that in this conduct, they provided society with the diversion of much talk, and their staff with constant entertainment; - for Willoughby’s confidential valet knew all about his improper pursuits, while his wife’s lady’s maid could recount how Mrs Willoughby had cursed him for a fortune hunting libertine in full hearing of the servants, and of how savagely he had kicked shut her sitting room door before retorting that, ‘Devil take it, in his whole worthless life, he had only cared for Mrs Brandon, and he’d be damned if he pretended anything else to please a scolding…’ But the reader does not wish to hear any more of this.

Seemingly their staff lacked any discretion, and soon enough, the content of the Willoughby’s exchanges leaked out into polite society, which showed still less decorum in repeating them assiduously. Many a man had dined out for a month on his knowledge of episodes that ought to have been cloaked in decent silence, and Miss Steele was one of many maiden ladies agog for the latest outrage.'

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AUTHOR BIO

'Marianna Green lives in Wales, UK. She has long been fascinated with the classics of English Literature, and particularly admires the trenchant wit of Jane Austen'

AUTHOR FOLLOW LINKS

GOODREADS

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This Event Has Been Organized & Hosted by

Mr Blackwell - Spotlight and Giveaway

Haunted Open House Giveaway Blog Hop

I'm so happy to be part of this Blog Hop.  Who doesn't enjoy being a little bit frightened by ghostly tales of ghosts, vampires and things of the night?  A huge thanks to Nancy Gideon for organising this blog tour.

Leave a comment and follow this blog (if you're already following that's fine, just leave a comment) and I will draw one winner at the end of the 'hop' to win a $6 Amazon Gift Card(Or £5 if in the UK)

I thought I'd share with you some of the myths and legends of home homeland, Wales. Wales is a land legends and folklore, and has its fair share of ghosts.  Here are just a few tales of hauntings from various pars of the Principality.

 THE GHOST OF LLANDEGLA

 A small river runs close to the secluded village of Llandegla, and in this mountain stream under a huge stone lies a wicked Ghost. This is how he came to be there:

It  not is not known why Ffrith farm was troubled by a ghost, but when the servants were busily engaged in cheese making the Spirit would suddenly throw earth or sand into the milk, and thus spoil the curds. The dairy was also visited by the ghost, and there he played havoc with the milk and dishes. He sent the pans, one after the other, around the room, and dashed them to pieces. The terrible doings of the ghost was a topic of general conversation in those parts.

The farmer offered a reward of five pounds to anyone who would lay the Spirit. One Sunday afternoon,  an aged priest visited the farm yard, and in the presence of a crowd of spectators
exorcised the ghost, but without effect.

The farmer then sent for Griffiths, an Independent minister at Llanarmon, who enticed the ghost to
the barn. The ghost then changed its appearance to the form of a lion, but  could not touch Griffiths, because he stood in the centre of a circle, over which the lion could not pass. Griffiths tricked the ghost  into appearing in a less formidable shape, and it changed into a mastiff, but Griffiths demanded that it change to something smaller. At last, the ghost appeared as a fly, which was captured by Griffiths and secured in his tobacco box,  This box he buried under a large stone in the river, just below the bridge, near the Llandegla Mills, and there the Spirit is forced to remain until a certain tree, which grows by the bridge, reaches the height of the parapet. When this takes place, the Spirit shall have power to regain his liberty.  To prevent this tree from growing, the school children, even to this day, nip the upper branches to limit its upward growth.

THE GHOSTLY GIANT OF PONT-Y-GLYN

There is a picturesque glen between Corwen and Cerrig-y-Drudion, down which rushes a mountain stream, and over this stream is a bridge, called Pont-y-Glyn.  On the left hand side, a few yards from the bridge, on the Corwen side, is a yawning chasm, through which the river bounds.  Here people who have travelled by night affirm that they have seen ghosts—the ghosts of those who have been murdered in this secluded glen. A man who was a servant at Garth Meilio, said that one night, when he was returning home late from Corwen, he saw before him, seated on a heap of stones, a female dressed in Welsh costume.  He wished her good night, but she returned him no answer.  She, got up and grew to gigantic proportions as she continued down the road which she filled, so great were her increased dimensions. Other Spirits are said to have made their homes in the hills not far from Pont-y-Glyn.

THE GHOST OF TY FELIN

An exciseman, overtaken by night, went to a house called Ty Felin, (Yellow House) in the parish of Llanynys, and asked for lodgings.  Unfortunately the house was a very small one, containing only two bedrooms, and one of these was haunted; consequently no one dared sleep in it.  After a while, however, the stranger induced the master to allow him to sleep in this haunted room. He had not been there long before a ghost entered the room in the shape of a travelling Jew and walked around the
room.  The exciseman tried to catch him and gave chase, but he lost sight of the Jew in the yard.  He had scarcely entered the room, a second time, when he again saw the ghost.  He chased him once more and lost sight of him in the same place.  The third time he followed the ghost, he made a mark on the yard where the ghost vanished and went to rest, and was not disturbed again.

The next day, the exciseman got up early and went away, but, before long, he returned to Ty Felin accompanied by a policeman, whom he requested to dig in the place where his mark was.  This was done and underneath a superficial covering, a deep well was discovered, and in it a corpse.

Under interrogation, the tenant of the house, confessed that a travelling Jew, selling jewelry and such items, once lodged with him, and that he had murdered him and cast his body in the well.

BLACK DOGS AND ARTHUR'S SEAT
In Welsh mythology and folklore, Cŵn Annwn" hounds of Annwn") were the spectral hounds of Annwn, the otherworld of Welsh myth. They were associated with a form of the Wild Hunt, presided over by Gwynn ap Nudd. Christians came to dub these mythical creatures as "The Hounds of Hell" or "Dogs of Hell" and theorised they were therefore owned by Satan. However, the Annwn of medieval Welsh tradition is an otherworldly paradise and not a hell, or abode of dead souls.

They were associated with migrating geese, supposedly because their honking in the night is reminiscent of barking dogs

The Cŵn Annwn also came to be regarded as the escorts of souls on their journey to the Otherworld.
The hounds are sometimes accompanied by a fearsome hag called Mallt-y-Nos, "Matilda of the Night". An alternative name in Welsh folklore is Cŵn Mamau ("Hounds of the Mothers").

Hunting grounds for the Cŵn Annwn are said to include the mountain of  Cadair Idris, where it is believed "the howling of these huge dogs foretold death to anyone who heard them.The locals claim  that the mountain is haunted, and that anyone who spends the night on top of Cadair Idris will wake up either a madman or a poet. Different legends surround the mountain and one of the earliest claims that the giant Idris lived there. Three large stones rest at the foot of the mountain, and legend says that Idris got angry once and kicked them, sending them rolling down the mountainside.

Other Welsh legends state, however, that King  Arthur made his kingdom there, hence the name Cadair Idris: or the Seat of Idris.(Arthur)

Pwll-y-Wrach, the Witches Pool.

There is a pool hidden from the road among a copse on the top of Flint Mountain, in Flint North Wales. The pool is so small that travellers from Flint to Northop would not give it a second glance. But this was not always so. In days gone by Flint Mountain was a bare and desolate place and the pool was known as Pwll-y-Wrach, the Hag's Pool or the Witches Pool, the place where the ellyllon (as the Welsh call goblins) would congregate, and thus a place where humans would stay well clear of, especially after dark.

In 1852 John Roberts a farm labourer paid an unexpected visit to Pwll-y-Wrach. It was a cold winter's  morning and John was setting out to work when he found a youth blocking his path. With a harmless gesture he made to pass the youth but all of a sudden a force propelled him through the air. He landed face down above Pwll-y-Wrach, and the force held him there despite John's best efforts to free himself. He struggled for what seemed a lifetime, but in fact was just a few short minutes, until at the sound of a cock crow he was released. The ellyll, still disguised as a youth, stood astride him and warned. " When the cuckoo sings its first note on Flint Mountain I shall come again to fetch you". John got to his feet and stumbled back home, shaken but otherwise unhurt.

The following May, John Roberts died. He had been repairing a wall at Pen-y-glyn on Flint Mountain when it collapsed and crushed him. A lady who witnessed the accident said a cuckoo had come to land on a nearby tree just as it happened. And as the body of John Roberts was being returned to his home the cuckoo  followed, singing from tree to tree all the way to the front door.

  And  since I am looking forward to the release of 'Beloved Enemy', the third in the Destiny Trilogy, I thought I'd be indulgent and share an excerpt from my the first book in the trilogy,  'Starquest', which I think has a really 'spooky' feel to it, although it's SF romance rather than witches or vampires! My heroine is stranded on an uninhabited planet with her companion who has been badly wounded. She keeps guard during the night, watching over him and trying to tend to his wounds, but has a feeling they are not alone. 

Then tiny, dancing pinpoints of light appear... 


EXCERPT FROM STARQUEST  

After a while I decided it was just marsh gas, but as I watched I became aware that the 'flames' were orderly. They moved in groups of threes and fours, gliding in straight lines and then circling to retrace their steps in what seemed to be a methodical fashion, as no Will o' the Wisp ever did. I began to feel I was in the presence of something malevolent...evil. Then I heard the voices. Strange, unearthly voices, which had nothing to do with flesh and blood. 

"Take the male," they hissed, "while he yet lives. Before the life-force within him dies and is of no use to us." 

"Wait. The female is stronger," came another voice. "Stay until she sleeps. Then will be our chance, and we can take them both." 

 I reached for my blaster, by now fully charged, and fired a steady beam in the direction of the 'flames.' When I laid down the gun there was nothing, only the darkness. Had the voices been in my imagination, or was it a dream? But I knew I had not slept. Trying to recall the experience, as I record this, I realise they did not speak in words at all. Yet I had understood... I've always loved the night, the beauty of the darkened, star-filled skies. Here, however, on this forsaken and perilous planet, it is menacing, with the sense of something lurking, lying in wait.

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