Julie is the author of 8 full length novels currently being re-released 2 novellas and a short M/M story. She has written in such genres as Fantasy Romance, Vampire Romance, Ghost Romance, with all books crossing many genres, such as Fantasy, Paranormal, witchcraft, time travel, historical, reincarnation, and mystery. All of her books are very much plot driven, with most reviews scoring no less than a 4-or 5 stars and several receiving BEST READS.
Thursday, 10 December 2015
Today I would like to welcome Paranormal author - Daisy Banks to my Blog.
Thank you for joining us Daisy
writes both sweet and spicy romance in the Historical, Paranormal and Fantasy
genres. Her focus is to offer the best tale she can to readers. Daisy is
married, with two grown up sons. Antiques and collecting entertain Daisy when
she isn’t writing. There are also some rare occasions she makes a meal that
doesn’t stick to the pan.
Serving the Serpent will be available from Liquid Silver Books on 23rd of November 2015
Wales, Ceridwyn takes up her inherited duty to care for the dragons in the
mountains. Awed by them and the huge book about them, she is determined to
prove her worth.
away in Norway, Leif has growing concerns for his sick dragon. He discovers
only one cure will stop his dragon’s suffering. The mighty Herensuge must
journey to find his bonded mate.
they meet, Ceri and Leif make combined efforts to aid the dragons and discover
an astonishing surprise. The great lore book each of them protects tells they
have a responsibility to the future. At this rare and magical time, not only
the dragon pairing must occur.
Join Ceri and Leif as they work to keep the
sworn silence and keep the dragons safe. Friendship is growing between them,
but will it be enough? Can love blossom between two chosen to serve the
Ceri said a swift, silent prayer and ducked into the cave mouth.
Here, she undid the belt at her hips so her robes hung smooth as they should,
and she slid off her Wellington boots. From this entrance, she’d tread barefoot
over the chilly surface of the compacted pale clay and raw quartz pebbles of
the path. Along and down, she searched with her fingers over the cold and damp
rock wall, feeling her way down. She descended deeper into the gloom and passed
the low-hanging lump of granite Mam always called Lizzie’s Pap. The darkness
now complete, her stomach rolling and her breathing rapid, she heard the echo
of Mam’s instructions in her mind as she stepped for the first time onto the
gravel-edged shore where the dark waters of the Jet Llyn joined her world to
that of her new charges. She counted four paces forward. Blind for now, she
stretched out her right arm and felt about in the darkness until she found the
thick branch of wood holding the torch she needed to light.
Tiny pebbles stuck under her toes. The nip in the air sent a shiver
over her as she set her willow wand down, and with her fingers a bit shaky, she
struck the match to light the moss wound around the top of the pole wedged into
the gravel. The torch flared. The dry stalks, which must be replaced each visit
here, took easily and burned up bright. She breathed out in a rush of relief.
So far, everything was as it should be. A fresh rash of trembles raised
gooseflesh all down her arms and not because of the chill in the cavern.
Ceri picked up her wand and lifted the lit torch. She carried the
light in front of her in her left hand until she reached the scrap of gritty
beach with its short rock causeway that projected forward like a finger
reaching out toward the middle of the deep water. Here, she held the torch
shoulder high so the light glittered and reflected as in a mirror off the
depths of the Jet Llyn. In her other hand, she held the quartz-crystal-tipped
rod, and pointing it, she positioned the clear stone on her wand so it hovered
over the still dark surface.
She swallowed, gave a little quiver, forced down her apprehension,
and sucked in a breath.
Beneath the quartz point of her rod, illuminated by the bright
torchlight, a single fat bubble rose. The water rippled. Stronger circular
movements followed until small waves lapped at the shore inches from where she
curled her toes so they gripped into the stones. An itch tickled in her palm,
but she kept the rod steady.