🎃 Happy Halloween! 🎃

Enjoy an excerpt from Lost Time, still one of my all time faves, even after all these years. This story was inspired by a friend of mine who went on a UK vacation and got lost in Wales. Two very sweet people came to her rescue. But that’s about where the similarities end, from there on, my filthy imagination took over and the delicious Lockhart Munro took shape. And Oh, what a shape he has…

supernatural, paranormal, time-travel, erotic, romance

(I’ve left another extract over on the original * Pick a Genre Already * if you’d like to read some more)

But first, here’s the blurb:

EXCERPT:

“How’s the headache?” Jake asked.

“Mmm, better, thanks. Just have a bit of a sore throat today.”

“Gran says you look a little flushed.”

Hannah chuckled nervously.

Jake’s gran set a bowl of porridge in front of her and sat down to join them.

Hannah took a spoonful of treacle from the fancy little pot and swirled it over the porridge, wondering how to bring up the subject of her missing man. She really should have got his name before she fell asleep. It would make this inquiry a lot easier.

“Um…” She tried the oatmeal. “Do you have…workers—you know, employees that work here—besides you?”

“Nope, there’s just me and Gran. When we need outside help, the neighbors usually pitch in.”

“Huh. Do you rent out rooms?” she fished.

“Nope, only to you.” He chuckled, scraping the last of his breakfast from the bottom of the bowl.

Hannah pinched her lip. “Um, okay, look… Last night, I, uh… My throat was sore, as I said, so I came down here to see if maybe you had some orange juice. I hope you don’t mind,” Hannah rushed. “Um, and I, uh, ran into a man…”

Jake’s Gran shot to her feet and she crossed herself just like she’d done last evening before she’d left Hannah’s room.

“You met a man…down here?” Jake said slowly.

Hannah swallowed and laughed again uneasily. “Yeah, he…um…he was here in the kitchen. He looks just like the guy in the painting in my room.”

Jake’s eyes rounded and his spoon fell noisily to the table as his gran spoke rapidly in Welsh and an overly excited voice. Uneasiness skittered across the back of Hannah’s neck.

“Did he give you a name?” Jake asked. “Gran wants to know.”

“No, I didn’t catch his name. I was hoping you could tell me.”

Jake shook his head. “Nope, I can’t help you.” He stood up from the table and took his bowl to the sink.“You let me know when you’re ready to go to the bus station, Hannah. I’ll gladly take you.”

“But…I was hoping…to stay and…”

Jake shook his head slowly with a skeptical look on his young face. “And hang out with a ghost some more? I doubt that’s what you had in mind for your holiday.”

“A ghost?” She gave a half-assed chuckle, watching Jake intently. “Right, a ghost. Funny. Canadian tourist, right here”—she pointed at her own face—“in haunted old Wales,” she tried to joke, but by the look on his face he didn’t find it funny.

“Look, Hannah, I don’t know what to say. Gran swears he’s here. I’ve never actually seen him, so I don’t really believe it, but I will admit some strange stuff goes on here that defies explanation. If you ran into him last night, I’m sorry that he scared you.”

“He didn’t…scare me… You’re scaring me, to tell the truth. You’re trying to make me believe that…that the guy I”—she almost said ‘fucked’ before she caught herself—“met was a ghost?”

“Well, I guess you should consider yourself lucky that he didn’t frighten you. I’ve gotta go get some work done before you need to leave.” He began to walk out of the room.

Hannah jumped up and gripped his arm, as near hysteria climbed up her sore throat. “The guy, in the portrait. He’s dead?”

“Well, I don’t know. I assume he is. That painting has been here as long as I can remember. It was here when Gran was a child, she told me before. Her family has lived here for generations.”

Hannah began to tremble uncontrollably.

Jake lowered her into a chair. “It’s okay, Hannah. You’ll be all right. I’ll get you out of here. I’ll take you to Swansea and you can just carry on with your trip. Just think of the story you’ll get to tell when you get back to Canada.”

The story she’d get to tell? Who the hell would believe her? Oh, by the way, Cassie, I shagged a ghost while I was in the UK. They’d lock her up and throw away the key for sure. “But…but who is the man in the painting?” She looked at him, needing answers.

“I don’t know. Like I said, it was here. For all we know it is just an artist’s vision and not a real person at all.” He looked over at his gran and shrugged.

Hannah didn’t believe that. He had been real. If he was a—she didn’t even want to think it—a ghost, then he had to have been alive at some point.

Near tears, she covered her mouth. What was going on? She felt that same awful ache of grief she’d experienced upstairs. She couldn’t be so sick and feverish, that she’d hallucinated this whole thing.

Jake bent down and patted her shoulder. “Why don’t you go throw some cool water on your face and pack up your things? I’ll take you to your hotel.”

Hannah swallowed hard and nodded, getting up and stumbling blindly towards the stairs.

She entered the room, keeping her back to the portrait, piling her things into her suitcase without folding them neatly. She went into the bathroom and turned on the faucet, throwing cold water on her face then drying it without even looking into the mirror, afraid that she might see him there.

Hannah had to know. She pulled the collar of her shirt wide and looked down at her breasts. The bruises were still there. What the fuck? Wow, I’ve been ‘used’ by a ghost. Leave it to her to have a relationship with the most unavailable guy around. Oh, wait—he wasn’t a guy at all. She felt light-headed. Jake was right, she needed to get the hell away from here.

Hannah took her toothbrush and hairbrush from the sink, tossed them carelessly into the case, and zipped it up. Hastily, she looked around the room for anything that she might have forgotten.

“Can I help…?”

Hannah jumped a mile at the sound of Jake’s voice.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized. “I just wanted to help with your bags.”

“Thank you,” she whispered. Allowing him to take the two bigger bags, she followed him out, slinging her carry-on over a shoulder. As Hannah passed the painting she had to expend an enormous amount of willpower not to look at it. It was as if it pulled at her, demanding her attention. She ignored it and hurried down the stairs after Jake.

As Hannah reached the bottom of the stairs the floor tilted. The room’s particles whizzed around and she knew he was near. Even though it felt like she was going to pass out or throw up, she bee-lined for the exit. Hannah pulled open the massive door and lunged outside, inhaling deep gulps of cool air into her lungs.

She sat down heavily on the front steps while Jake put her things in the car.

“You ready, Hannah?” he asked, looking down at her.

“Yes.” He reached a hand out to her and she took it gratefully, needing some support—not only physically but emotionally as well.

They drove down the lane. Hannah had already made the decision that she wouldn’t look back. But she did, and almost choked when she saw an old farmhouse. Last night when they’d driven up, it had been a castle. She’d seen it. The lightning had flashed and she’d seen a freakin’ castle. At least that was what she’d thought. Nothing was making sense. As she stared at the old house, she caught sight of movement at the very topmost, octagonal-shaped window in what must be an attic. The pane of glass took on the silvery hue she’d witnessed so many times during the night, as if the house or someone in it were trying to summon her.

Hannah closed her eyes and turned back around in the seat.

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Have a Safe and Happy Halloween!🎃

A Reverie Resort Vacation

Visit Reverie Resort, a luxury hotel on a tropical island where vacationers come to enjoy their wildest dreams but get more than they ever expected…

Genevieve, a Jinn, comes to Reverie Resort for one last vacation before she must go before the Afrit tribunal and formally declare that she has no powers. She hopes to enjoy one last taste of a luxury beyond even what she is used to before being cast out of her own dimension to live among humans.

But something goes wrong. Instead of the spa weekend she’s expecting, she finds herself on a remote, barren planet being auctioned off to the highest bidder and has no way to contact her hosts to correct the situation. Is there really a mix up? Or do her hosts have sinister intentions toward her? In the meantime, she finds her new owner, Colin, to be quite attractive for a human…

Audiobook Details:

Listening Time: 4 hours 51 minutes

Narrated by: Dene Woods

Listen to a sample:

Where to buy the audiobook:

Audible | iTunes | Amazon

Get the paperback version on Amazon

Want the ebook instead? Get it here:

Amazon | iTunes | Kobo | Nook

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Prefer to try for a FREE copy? Enter the Rafflecopter giveaway HERE

Jewel is giving away 10 paperback copies and 10 audiobook copies of Genie’s Awakening

The Rafflecopter runs from 5/28 through 6/10

Enjoy this excerpt:

Will turned to address the men again, but did not release her from his grip. “Have a good look at this beauty, gents.”

As they gawked at her, she stood straight and proud as though daring someone to try and claim her, returning their gazes with scathing, cold eyes, her fair lips pressed into a tight line. After one quick scan of crowd before her, she shot an icy glare at Will, who let go of her and backed off.

Colin chuckled. Could this petite thing be the reason for the bruise on Will’s cheek? She radiated anger, was so alive with it that it cast off her like the heat of a flame.

Will strolled to one corner of the platform as though nothing dramatic had just occurred. “Now, where shall we start the bidding?”

“What skills does she have?” asked one of the men.

“Yeah, can she work a terminal?” asked another.

“A bit scrawny for farm work. Looks like the most she’d be able to do is keep the house clean,” someone else commented. That was followed by snickering from the cluster of men around him.

The woman tossed her head and the dark strands of her hair gleamed onyx in the light of the double suns. “I do not do menial labor.”

She reminded Colin of warrior princesses in tales. And it was obvious to him that she was unused to being handled the way she was right now.

The trader wagged his eyebrows and strolled to the other side of the platform. “Who cares what skills she has? Come now. Let’s start the bidding. With a woman of this quality, why would you ever want her to leave the bedroom?”

The deep multi-toned chuckle of men followed his statement. But Colin wasn’t among them. Instead, he frowned, and started making his way forward to end the show.

“Who will give me twenty credits?” the trader shouted. “Twenty credits for the loveliest creature you’ve ever seen.”

The woman stood with her head held high, eyes distant, stance hard as the rock that formed the distant red mountains of Garrulus Four.

The men shuffled and murmured amongst themselves. Given the kind of lives they led, beauty was a luxury far outweighed by the many other qualities they needed in a wife. This lot of men were used to leading quiet lives, and they wanted women who did the same or went along with it at least. The woman on the platform would not fit in with this plan. Even if one of them could afford her, Colin doubted they’d be able to handle her.

Will’s eyebrows were high with shock. “Nobody?” He stopped his movement on the platform and pulled his head back in an exaggerated way, making his potbelly poke forward from the coat he wore. “No one will pay twenty credits for this gorgeous creature? That’s a bargain for someone like her.”

Colin saw one corner of the woman’s mouth quirk upward in satisfaction, and he grinned again. Obviously, she felt like she was winning so far, but what would be the consequences? She’d already stated she wouldn’t work, and she’d failed to declare any skills. If all she had to trade was beauty, she was on the wrong planet.

“Eighteen credits then. Who will pay eighteen?” Will called, an edge of desperation in his voice now. “You’ve all become shy suddenly. Suffering from performance anxiety, perhaps? Who wouldn’t be with her around, eh?” He chortled and leered at the woman.

Colin could see the men glancing at each other. Who would be crazy enough to take on the beautiful spitfire? That’s what it came down to, their masculinity. Clearly they found themselves lacking, because none of them were brave enough to bid.

As the silence stretched on, a warm wind whooshed through, audible in the vacuum of stillness. It was only then that the woman’s stance thawed. Her shoulders rounded, and worry transformed her eyes from their sparkling glare to the round-eyed, lost look of an innocent. The pink lips softened and parted revealing surprise at the group’s rejection, and Colin’s heart went out to her.

“Eighteen credits!” His hand shot up in the air before he even realized that the words had left his lips.

About the Author:

Jewel 4 Restless by nature, Jewel Quinlan is an avid traveler and has visited sixteen countries so far. Lover of ice cream, dark beer, and red wine she tries to stay fit when she’s not typing madly on her computer concocting another romance novel. In her spare time, she likes to do yoga, hike, learn German, and play with her spoiled Chihuahua, Penny.

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Throwback Thursday – The Halloween Edition