Jun 3 2023

Go Where? Weekend Snippet

I’ve switched to my newly released paranormal romance DANGER ON THE NILE!

The excerpt, continuing on, close to the beginning of the book. The high priestess Inu has been gravely wounded and stumbled into the inner sanctum where Mayet was cleaning. Mayet is speaking:

“But what am I to do? Who can I go to for help?”

“No one. They’re all dead or dying.” Inu roused herself although her eyes were glassy and her breathing labored. “You must get the goddess’s effigy to safety. The statue holds much power and I know Shabak wants to get his hands on it. The raiders will be here soon. Take it and go.”

Go where? Mayet didn’t give voice to her question for fear of the answer.

There was a pounding on the door and dust drifted from the beautifully painted ceiling above. Head swimming, Mayet turned to Inu for more instruction but the priestess was dead, having used the last of her strength to reach this sanctuary. Mayet was frozen in terrified indecision until the pounding at the door renewed, increasing in force. It sounded as if whoever wanted entry had a battering ram.

Rising to her feet, Mayet faced the statue of the goddess. Putting her hands together and bowing her head, she said, “Protect me, Great One. I beg for thy assistance in carrying out this fearsome task.”

There was no sign from the statue as the goddess continued to stare serenely into the distance.

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DANGER ON THE NILE (CHILDREN OF FATE) by Veronica Scott

1550 BCE. Mayet is a newly appointed priestess at the temple of Isis in a southern Egyptian border town. When enemies attack the city, she must flee alone with a sacred effigy to keep the invaders from claiming it and using it for their own magic rituals. Joining with other refugees from the stricken city, she has to hide the statue from curious eyes and comfort her companions as if she was a learned, senior priestess. They all look to her for leadership on their desperate trek north. With the enemy close on their heels, Mayet stumbles over an ancient, abandoned fort, where her party takes refuge. Surrounded and trapped by the invaders, she faces a bleak future.

Khay is a high-ranking Egyptian officer, sent by Pharaoh to negotiate treaties with various southern tribes. He and his soldiers narrowly escape an ambush at the city where Mayet’s temple was located and are on the run from the invaders when he sees the shelter of an abandoned fort. Now he and his men are also trapped inside the stout walls with no food and no hope of rescue. Yet he has no regrets for the priestess leading the refugees is the woman the goddess Isis has shown him in a vision, the one who could become his wife.

Together Mayet and Khay must find a way to bring their people to freedom. Will Isis listen to pleas from such a fledgling priestess? Khay comes from a famous family, smiled upon by other gods – will any of them come to his aid? As the pair struggle to stay alive and save the other Egyptians, attraction grows and unites their hearts. But is there to be a future in this world, or only in the Afterlife?

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May 27 2023

There Is No Help Weekend Snippet

(Pssst: I currently have a mega sale on my Badari Gladiators boxed set, books 1-3 – just $.99!!! This is the last weekend for the sale. Check it out below the post – scroll all the way down.)

I’ve switched to my newly released paranormal romance DANGER ON THE NILE!

The excerpt, from close to the beginning of the book. Mayet, a new priestess, is in the inner sanctum of the temple, cleaning the altar when the high priestess stumbles in, gravely wounded:

Terrified, Mayet rushed to obey the order, forcing the door to swing shut as fast as the mechanism would move. “What is it? What’s going on? Should I go for help?” she asked as she hurried to rejoin Inu, sandals slipping a bit in the trail of bright red blood on the black-and-white tiled floor. The high priestess was plainly not much longer for this world.

With a bitter laugh ending in a gurgling cough, Inu shook her head. “There is no help.” She grabbed Mayet’s wrist with surprising strength. “You must get the sacred statue of the goddess away from here. The effigy must not fall into their hands.”

“Whose hands?” Mayet rushed to select a goblet of the wine which had been offered to the goddess the night before and brought it to Inu, kneeling and tipping the alabaster cup to her lips. “Take a moment, my lady, gather your thoughts and explain matters to me.” She hoped to assist the priestess’s memory. “You and the others went to the formal greeting ceremony at the mayor’s palace, to take part in the welcome for the delegation of the southern tribes—”

“It was a trick, a trap, the fucking bastards slaughtered everyone and then their soldiers poured through the city gates. We’ve been betrayed by false promises of peace and trade and now it’s a war. I managed to flee through a side corridor—I had guards with me but they were cut down.” Belatedly recognition dawned in Inu’s face how severely she was injured, as she glanced at the slashes in her dress and touched the one on her belly with a fingertip. “I’ll be in the Afterlife by sunset. Promise to sing the proper chants that I may pass to my judgment.”

Author’s own collection

DANGER ON THE NILE (CHILDREN OF FATE) by Veronica Scott

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My other ancient Egyptian paranormal romances…

BADARI GLADIATORS BOOKS 1-3

I’ve bundled my three gladiator books into a box set and put it on sale for $.99 this month! Of course I’m hoping if readers like my gladiators they’ll want to read the ongoing, original Badari Warriors series too. And if you’re already a fan of one or both series, THANK YOU SO MUCH!!!

This Badari Gladiators box set gathers the first three science fiction romance novels from this series into one collection. Featuring genetically engineered soldiers of the far future, the Badari were created by alien enemies to fight humans. But then unscrupulous lab techs faked the deaths of a few men, smuggled them off the planet in cryo freeze and sold them to be gladiators. They meet their human fated mates in alien arenas and must fight to save themselves and their mates. Kyden is a Generation Five Badari whereas the main characters in the long running series are from a later time and are Generation Eight. This new series stands alone and you don’t have to have read any of the other books to enjoy this one. I couldn’t resist the temptation to tell a few other Badari stories, set in the galaxy’s Hinterlands, and who can resist gladiators? Please note each novel has been previously published on its own and all are standalone tales. No new material has been added, aside from a brief Author’s Note about why I wrote each novel.

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May 22 2023

Why I Wrote DANGER ON THE NILE

While science fiction romance is definitely my first love as an author/reader, I’ve been fascinated by ancient Egypt since childhood, when I read Mara, Daughter of the Nile by Eloise Jarvis McGraw. I try to write one new book in my connected Egyptian series each year and find it to be a useful creative pause from SFR. The muse likes to explore other topics every now and then!

I’ve had one scene from my new novel DANGER ON THE NILE in my head for years. Decades maybe even. It’s a dramatic chariot scene in front of the abandoned fort where the characters take refuge from invaders. But that was it, vivid as it was. No other plot, no backstory, nothing. Eventually I got another scene in my mind, which is the opening with the priestess Mayet and her desperate flight from the temple. Then I literally woke up one morning this year and had the entire plot in my head, ready to go.

Any time I get a gift from the muse that involves an entire book ready to be written, I sit down and I do that. So I set aside my next scifi romance and dove into ancient Egypt. I got to research all kinds of things from ancient forts to border disputes in the 1500 BCE era to dolls of the time and I wrote. Over the years I’ve researched many of the worldbuilding details of my books and can use what I learned previously in each book. I also based some of the descriptions of a certain old bed on my own up close inspection of King Tut’s bed when the traveling exhibit from his tomb came to LA.

It was so much fun and really refreshing to the writer in me to be back in ancient Egypt. Of course this is my paranormal version – since I wanted the gods to be involved in these novels I couldn’t exactly go the historical romance route and I like the freedom of introducing a few details that might or might not be accurate. And leaving out other things!

I’ve been wanting to write a five book series about the grown children of Nima and Kamin, from DANCER OF THE NILE and RETURN OF THE DANCER OF THE NILE, because they’re one of my favorite couples (but this book is a standalone) so the dashing charioteer/diplomat/military man hero of the book is their oldest son, Khay. Next up in this series I might write the book I’ve had percolating about his sister, who is a librarian at Pharaoh’s palace but we’ll see what the muse is in the mood for.

While I was writing the book at least two other solutions to the dire situation my main characters find themselves in occurred to me but since I wanted the goddess Isis to be heavily involved, I had to reject those helpful ideas from the subconscious.

Fiona Jayde, my cover artist, and I decided to go in a completely different direction for the covers on this five book series and follow the trend of using objects rather than people to catch the eye and draw the reader in.

And now I find my mind turning over sequel ideas for Sati, a charming young supporting character you’ll meet in the novel. Whether I’ll ever write her book, who knows but it’s fun to ponder.

Wishing you health, prosperity and long life, and happy reading if you decide to delve into DANGER ON THE NILE or any of my ten other books set in the time frame.

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DANGER ON THE NILE (CHILDREN OF FATE) by Veronica Scott

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The other books in my world of ancient Egypt:

May 20 2023

Close the Door Weekend Snippet from DANGER ON THE NILE

The excerpt, from close to the beginning of the book. Mayet, a new priestess, is in the inner sanctum of the temple, cleaning the altar:

The sound of the heavy door opening caused Mayet to spin with a gasp. She wasn’t finished yet—the high priestess was early. Punishment for disappointing the goddess would be swift and Mayet would walk in pain for several days after the whipping she knew would be meted out. Or perhaps the priestess would be more merciful and spare the rod but put her on bread and water for a few days.

But the door seemed to be stuck, opening only a small way and Mayet heard whoever was at the entrance breathing heavily, almost gasping. She rushed to the portal, finding the high priestess clinging to the locking mechanism, her dress stained with blood, her wig askew and her eyes wild. Her elaborate makeup was smeared and the kohl left tearlike marks on her cheeks.

“Help me, child,” Inu said in a weak voice.

“What happened, my lady?” Trembling, Mayet supported the other woman and half carried her to the closest surface where she could sit. She glanced at the door, worried about the sounds drifting in from the outer temple area. Shouts, screams and the clang of metal. Swords? Here?

“Close the door quickly,” Inu said, slumping against the wall, smearing blood across the vivid paintings of the goddess in her garden as she moved.

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DANGER ON THE NILE (CHILDREN OF FATE) by Veronica Scott

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My other ancient Egyptian paranormal romances…

Nov 18 2022

Favorite Scene Friday Summoning the Snake Goddess DANCER OF THE NILE

One in a continuing series of occasional posts talking about a personal favorite scene from each of my books. It may not be my most favorite scene, since that would probably involve spoilers, but I thought it might be fun.

DANCER OF THE NILE – this couple – Nima the dancer and Kamin the Egyptian soldier – are two of my all time favorite characters. I have any number of scenes I relished writing in this novel but for today I’ll share the one where they’re on the run from their enemies and have to ask for help from Renenutet, the Snake goddess.

New cover SEPT 2019

The scene:

“Renenutet is a goddess of grain and harvests. Bread is the closest to a proper offering we can get on this rock.” Holding the bead carefully, Kamin rose and walked to the edge of the rock shelf, checking on the hyenas. A chorus of shrieking sounds rose as he peered over the precipice. “Still prowling. I have no real hope of their giving up and slinking away.”

“Sounds like they’re laughing at us,” Nima said, rubbing her bare wrist. “Like demons, enjoying our predicament. What do we do now?”

Setting the bread in the sunniest spot on the rock, Kamin laid the bead in the center, pushing it into the soft bread and coiling the broken ends of the black thong in a circle. “I need one drop of your blood, sweetheart, so the Great One hears the call through your bond with her—”

“I keep telling you there’s no bond, no link, nothing.” Nima held out her hand, closing her eyes. She gritted her teeth. “Go ahead, prick my finger.”

Nothing happened. Puzzled, braced for the pinprick, she opened her eyes to find Kamin oddly hesitant. Bewildered, she studied his face for a moment. “What?”

Pointing the knife at her ankle, he explained his insight. “I’m thinking a drop of your blood from where the hyena bit you might be better. Then the goddess would be aware of the black magic as well.”

Nima picked at the edge of the bandages he’d just applied. “You have a certain grim logic to this insane idea, soldier. Should I be concerned how much you know about black magic?” Removing the makeshift bandage, she gazed at him with a furrowed brow and wrinkled nose.

Wincing in obvious sympathy, he studied her foot as the bandages fell away. ”I’ll try not to hurt you.”

“The whole foot hurts and throbs, so don’t worry about one more prick.” She shut her eyes tight as he gently touched the tip of the knife to one of the angry, long, red slashes left by the hyena’s fangs and got a few drops of her blood on the blade. The black lines had not progressed much further up her leg, for which she was grateful, but they were a jarring, disquieting occurrence nonetheless.

Sharp pain for a brief moment, then Kamin stood. “I’m done. Cover the wound up again.”

Hastily, she wrapped the cloth over the gashes and bruises, tying a neat little knot.

As Kamin moved the knife slowly over the bead, Nima watched first one then two drops of the ruby blood fall onto the raised snake on the bead’s surface. The red ran to cover the entire bead without dripping off the edges. Kamin laid the knife aside and spread his hands out, palms up. “Great One Renenutet, we pray most earnestly for you to send us thy servants, the black cobras of the rocks, to kill the hyenas waiting below. The beasts were released to hunt us by priests of Qemtusheb, ruler of demons and enemy of Egypt. We ask for the one intervention Nima’s mother begged for, when she left your service so many years ago. Our need is dire, and Egypt’s fate may rest on our shoulders.”

Eyebrows raised, hand extended toward her, he nodded expectantly.

Pure panic froze Nima’s vocal cords for a moment. I don’t know any chants! What does he want me to add? She swallowed past the lump in her throat, licked her lips. “Please, if my mother meant anything to you, as a dancer, as your priestess, help Kamin and me now,” Nima said.

Riding the thermals overhead, the falcon let out a fierce cry and flew into the glare of the sun as she raised her head to watch him.

A thin tendril of black smoke spiraled from the bead. Kamin half lifted Nima away from the spot as first the bead, then the bread burst into angry purple-black flames. Writhing in the fire’s grasp, the leather thongs grew, splitting in two then splitting again, lengthening, fattening and spreading beyond the circle of the offering, in a tangle of tails. Nima screamed as eight black cobras raised their heads from the center of the fire circle, sinuously weaving and entwining around each other, red eyes gleaming, black tongues flicking. Hood pulsating, a ninth cobra, black like the others but with a golden head, reared four feet off the surface of the rock. The snake extricated itself from the tangle of lesser reptiles, slithering toward Nima, head weaving from side to side.

She scooted over the rough stone, heart pounding against her ribs, mouth dry, dizziness assailing her. Grabbing her by the shoulders, Kamin held her tight. “It’s the goddess, come at our request. Don’t panic now. You’ve got to face her, tell her what we need. Renenutet won’t grant any appeal just from me.” He gave her a little shake. “Falcons and snakes are sworn enemies.”

Plainly listening to his words, the cobra swung its head, studying him for a moment with cold, red-faceted eyes, then hissed loudly and continued to advance on Nima.

She shook in his arms, digging her nails into him, but met the snake’s regard. “Please, Great One, we need your help to kill the hyenas waiting below, so we can escape before the enemy arrives. We must carry our news to the nomarch so he can defend Egypt.”

Advancing in tiny increments, the snake’s flickering ruby tongue touched Nima’s parted lips, the feathery touch leaving behind spreading coolness, a taste of vanilla and honey in her mouth. Then the goddess retreated, hissing and spitting, and slithered down the rocks toward the pack of hyenas, her minions going behind her like a rippling black brook. Nima collapsed against Kamin, trying to stop herself from trembling.

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DANCER OF THE NILE

2014 Golden Quill Award Finalist

The Story:

Nima’s beauty and skill as a dancer leads an infatuated enemy to kidnap her after destroying an Egyptian border town. However, she’s not the only hostage in the enemy camp: Kamin, an Egyptian soldier on a secret mission for Pharaoh, has been taken as well. Working together to escape, the two of them embark on a desperate quest across the desert to carry word of the enemy’s invasion plans to Pharaoh’s people.

As they flee for their lives, these two strangers thrown together by misfortune have to trust in each other to survive. Nima suspects Kamin is more than the simple soldier he seems, but she finds it hard to resist the effect he has on her heart. Kamin has a duty to his Pharaoh to see his mission completed, but this clever and courageous dancer is claiming more of his loyalty and love by the moment. Kamin starts to worry, if it comes to a choice between saving Egypt or saving Nima’s life…what will he do?

Aided by the Egyptian god Horus and the Snake Goddess Renenutet, beset by the enemy’s black magic, can Nima and Kamin evade the enemy and reach the safety of the Nile in time to foil the planned attack?

Can there ever be a happy future together for the humble dancer and the brave Egyptian soldier who is so much more than he seems?

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Oct 21 2022

Favorite Scene Friday The Crocodile God Requires from MAGIC OF THE NILE

Cover by Frauke of Croco Designs

The next book of mine, going in fairly chronological order, was MAGIC OF THE NILE. I put a lot of myself into Tyema, the heroine, in terms of the way she suffers from anxiety and what she does about it. They were aware of the problem in ancient Egypt, although they called it something else. She has PTSD (of which they were also aware, although by another name) as a result of events in PRIESTESS OF THE NILE, which was about her older sister. MAGIC can be read as a standalone.

I loved writing Sahure, the chariot-driving hero, I got to put Sobek the Crocodile God into the story, there’s a parade, black magic, a trip through parts of the Afterlife….BUT for today’s post, my favorite scene is going to be the one where Tyema is in Thebes, at a planning meeting for the aforementioned parade, which will end with a ceremony where she provides a giant crocodile to the Theban temple of Sobek. The other participants include the High Priest of Sobek in Thebes, who really doesn’t want to hear input from Tyema, be she a High Priestess herself or not.

(Over the many long years of my old day job, I sure attended enough similiar meetings…although not about crocodiles and parades!)

The scene:

The High Priest of Sobek was easy for Tyema to identify, dressed in layered raiment of white, gold and black, wearing a modified sun-disk headdress, all ten bony fingers adorned with golden rings set with chunky gemstones. He was flanked by five lower priests and a thin, nervous scribe sat close by to record orders. A much older man, the priest had a stern face, small eyes beneath bushy brows, flushed cheeks and thin lips. His wig was elaborately braided and he clutched a tall gilded staff topped with a representation of the god in his crocodile form. His pectoral was a depiction of Sobek as Crocodile, done in turquoise, coral and jet. It was eye catching, but nothing compared to the glory of her gold collar and emeralds.

“Lady Tyema, High Priestess of Sobek in the Ibis Nome,” Edekh intoned, thumping his staff on the floor as if she were royalty.

The under priests bowed but the Theban High Priest merely nodded, his eyes fastened on the Tears of Sobek around Tyema’s neck. She suppressed a grin at his avaricious stare. He’s jealous.

The door across the room, which only Pharaoh himself could use, opened and Nat-re-Akhte entered the chamber, saying as he crossed the gilded threshold, “No need to genuflect, this isn’t a formal audience.” Today he wore no crown but had the golden uraeus on his brow, held in place by a golden circlet. He carried the blue-and-gold crook and flail of his rank.

She stood aside as Nat-re-Akhte walked past her to his chair, which was a golden marvel, depicting intricate scenes of himself with various gods that were far too detailed for Tyema to fully absorb in one glance. The chair rested on intricately carved lion paws, and was set on a slightly raised dais at the head of the gleaming wooden table. The ever present fan bearers took up station behind Pharaoh and Edekh walked to a place at his right hand.

“You may be seated,” Pharaoh said, placing the crook and flail on the table in front of him. “Which day is going to be the most propitious for this ceremony?” He gave Tyema a conspiratorial smile. “My zoo keeper tells me the beast has already devoured all the fish in his pond and they’ve had to restock.”

“I’ve cast the omens, Great One, and the day after tomorrow is the ideal date for the new ruler of the bask to be presented to the people of Thebes and installed at our temple,” said the High Priest, displaying no hesitation.

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Pharaoh nodded and Edekh made a note. Tyema sat back in her chair as the men discussed the arrangements for the procession. The city officials were also silent for the most part, apparently in the meeting to receive instructions, not to make suggestions. She had no opinion about the parade, the local Sobek priests knew their own city and how to organize things here. Perhaps she would have put the second troupe of dancing girls before the sacred image of Sobek, not after as they were going to do, but Tyema had no feeling it mattered to the Crocodile God, so she only nodded when Pharaoh courteously asked her opinion.

The high priest continued his rundown of the sequence of events. “And when we arrive at the temple, I’ll greet you with the hymn of the seventh hour–”

“After I’ve sung the hymn of the Abundant Nile,” Tyema said. She felt a tightening in her gut, sure now they would be in opposition. He’d rather I played no part in the day’s ceremonies. He probably wishes I’d just sent the crocodile with only old Hotepre the keeper for escort. Well, for that matter, so do I, but the Great One wanted it otherwise.

The older priest cleared his throat for a moment, blinking. Clearly he wasn’t used to being interrupted. “No need for you to exert yourself, I’m sure. It’s one of the older, less well known hymns after all. You can sing a brief blessing on the bask at the end of the ceremonies, if you wish. Now then, as I was saying–”

“The Great One Sobek particularly enjoys the ‘Abundant Nile,’ since it praises his efforts to keep the life giving waters flowing freely,” Tyema said, cutting across his words, her voice clear. “As he is sending his crocodile to you, personally selected by him, we need to thank him appropriately.”

The men from the Theban temple gawked at her. Color becoming even hotter in his gaunt cheeks, the high priest blew out a breath. “My dear girl, we’re duly conscious of the honor the Great One does us here at Thebes. I merely see no need to slow the tempo of the ceremony with additional music. The crowd will naturally wish to see the crocodile installed in the pond as soon as possible.”

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“As High Priestess, it’s my responsibility to conduct the crocodile to your temple and to make the official transfer in proper order,” she said, not at all abashed by his dismissive manner. When it came to anything regarding her duty to Sobek, Tyema felt as if some measure of his strength ran in her veins, and no condescending old man from Thebes could silence her. “I’ll sing ‘Abundant Nile,’ after which you can sing whatever you feel is most appropriate to accept the gift of Sobek and then we’ll proceed to the pond. Whether our audience is one person or ten thousand people, we must honor the Great One Sobek properly.”

“Well,” Pharaoh said, his voice solemn but his eyes twinkling, “The list of songs is decided then.”

“Duly noted,” Edekh assured him as the palace scribe by his side made rapid inscriptions on his tablet. The temple scribe shot a wary look at his superiors, but then scratched some notes as well.

There was an awkward moment of silence. Pharaoh raised his hand and gestured in a lazy circular motion at the priest. “Continue.”

The man opened and closed his mouth several times before swallowing a sip of wine from the clay goblet his under priest handed him. “Um, yes, um, at the pond, we’ll open the crate–”

“The child of Sobek doesn’t travel through Thebes in a crate,” Tyema interrupted.

“You’re not seriously proposing to have a dangerous Nile crocodile carried loose in the procession, are you?” the old man spluttered.

“Sobek has given me the gift of controlling his children of the Nile when circumstances warrant. I’ll ensure the animal remains calm during the parade through the city, docile until he’s installed in the pond,” Tyema said.

“I’ve seen this gift or power in action, exactly as the Lady Tyema indicates,” Pharaoh agreed.

“It would be most exciting,” said one of the younger priests, enthusiasm causing him to speak boldly, earning himself a glare from the High Priest. “Imagine the effect on the crowds, the crocodile on full display, yet posing no danger.”

“Sobek has selected a magnificent animal to rule over your bask,” Tyema said. “The beast has the rare purple underbelly. It can only benefit your temple to have the people of Thebes behold this marvelous creature, not have him hidden away in a crate.”

“Consequences will be on your head if this goes awry, if the beast causes injury,” the old priest said, his eyes flashing in anger. He bit his lip and glanced at Pharaoh, seeming to regret his outburst.

Tyema laid a hand on the collar, touching the emeralds. “Where’s your faith in Sobek, the god we both serve?”

“Any other concerns?” Pharaoh asked the high priest, his tone mild.

“No, Great One. I’m satisfied with the arrangements,” he said, sounding as if he was forcing the words out one by one.

“I’ll need to inspect the pond,” Tyema said, tapping her fingers on the table as she mentally reviewed her list of requirements. “I’m sure all your arrangements are in order, but I can’t bring Sobek’s gift to you with all the pomp and ceremony, only to find some problem in front of Pharaoh and the crowds.”

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Now she thought the old priest was going to have a full-on fit, especially as Pharaoh was nodding agreement with her. “Excellent forethought, Lady Tyema,” the ruler said. “Captain Sahure can conduct you and your crocodile keeper to the temple tomorrow morning, leaving the afternoon for any repairs or alterations to be made. On the appointed day, the palace will provide the usual beer, bread and meat for the afternoon feasting after the procession in honor of Sobek. Edekh will see to the distribution.” He rose, signaling the end of the meeting, and swept out of the chamber.

Edekh remained, moving closer to Tyema as the high priest came around the table at her. Shaking a finger in her face, the man talked so fast he was spitting. “There’s nothing wrong with my temple’s pond, girl, and I don’t appreciate your trying to embarrass me in front of Pharaoh by suggesting there is.”

The priest who’d agreed with Tyema before put a restraining hand on his elder’s arm. “I don’t think anyone took her words as carrying intent to insult, sir. The lady is being prudent, cautious with the Great One’s living gift to us.”

“Sobek gave me the responsibility for his crocodile and I don’t take it lightly,” Tyema said. “I can’t.”

“Some little nobody from the country, trying to make a place for herself here, no doubt,” the High Priest blustered on.

“I’ve no desire to live here in Thebes. Running my own temple and managing my own concerns keeps me fully engaged,” Tyema answered, her voice sharp. She leaned toward him. “I speak directly to the god, to learn his will and desire. Surely you do the same?”

The priest blinked, opened and closed his mouth like a floundering Nile perch, and sat down in the nearest chair, guided by his underling.

MAGIC OF THE NILE: standalone sequel to PRIESTESS OF THE NILE.

Hearts Through History Romancing the Novel Winner

Gayle Wilson Award of Excellence Finalist

Carolyn Readers Choice Award Finalist

The Story:

She’s a priestess, he’s a proud warrior … is love enough to bridge their differences?
When the high priestess of an Egyptian temple falls in love with a captain of the royal guard, their bond is tested by the intrigue and peril of their duties to the gods and Pharaoh.

Tyema serves Sobek the Crocodile God as High Priestess of his Nile river temple. But despite her beauty, grace, and the power she wields, the shy priestess lives as a recluse in the remote temple grounds. For though Sobek rescued her from a childhood of abuse and neglect, and healed her crippled foot, her dark past haunts her still.
When Sahure, a dashing captain of Pharaoh’s guard, arrives to ask her help for Pharaoh, Tyema’s wounded heart blossoms. The captain is captivated as by her well … until Pharaoh orders him to the dangerous frontier, far from Tyema. He rides away, bound by duty and honor, leaving Tyema with even more secrets to bear.

Heart-broken, Tyema returns to her lonely life … until the Crocodile God reveals other plans for his priestess. For Pharaoh’s life is threatened with black magic, and only one who wields the power of a god can unmask the sorcerer. Tyema must brave court life, and somehow withstand the pressures of swirling gossip, intrigue and danger. And she must hurry, before ancient evils overcome all her efforts.

But when Sahure returns, is he there to help or to hinder? Will love lead them to common ground, and a future together … or will their differences tear them apart forever? Find out in this exciting sequel to PRIESTESS OF THE NILE!

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Sep 16 2022

Friday Favorite Scene PRIESTESS OF THE NILE Crocodile Attack

Cover by Fiona Jayde

Taking my books in order of release PRIESTESS OF THE NILE was my first ever published work in January 2012. Carina Press had issued a call for ancient world romance in 2011 and me being me, I had to put a paranormal spin on it. I’d always been fascinated with ancient Egypt and I had the realization that Sobek the Crocodile God was a shifter and therefore could appear as a human…and fall in love.

I was told later that at the time Carina only acquired about 3% of the unsolicited manuscripts they received so I was definitely lucky! and I took Sobek as my informal patron ever since.

Merys is the last priestess of an abandoned templed to Sobek on the Nile in 1550 BCE and she has a beautiful voice, which attracts him. In the beginning she doesn’t know who he is – he calls himself Bek – so one of my favorite scenes in the book is the one where she learns his identity in dramatic fashion.

The scene:

Merys stood carefully in one spot. She pushed her hair out of her eyes roughly and sighed in frustration, checking her neck one more time, not quite accepting the loss of her necklace. The slithering sensation against her skin as the old leather thong parted and the amulet fell had been so startling, she hadn’t grabbed for it in time. Peering uselessly into the murk of the Nile, Merys blinked back tears. The only possession of my great-grandmother’s I had left, the symbol of my being a priestess—gone. I’ll wait for the silt to settle and then hopefully I can find it. Taking a moment to enjoy the soaring flight of a flock of white ibis against the blue sky, she stood straighter, easing her muscles. I envy them their freedom.

The sky tilted and vertigo assailed her as her feet were violently yanked out from under her. A crocodile closed its mighty jaws around her ankle, ripping a desperate scream from her throat. The bone-crushing force sent a sheet of hot pain up her leg and through her body until adrenaline pulsed in her system.

The beast dragged her under the surface of the Nile, pulling her toward the center of the river. Cold water rushed over her face, into her open mouth. Merys gagged, tried to hold her breath, beating on the animal’s closed jaws with her fists, then trying to jab at the nearest eye. Her stomach heaved, nausea and weakness from the intensity of the pain in her leg spreading outward from her gut.

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The crocodile rolled her over and over, tossing her like Tyema’s puppy with a rag doll. Black spots danced before her eyes and she scrunched them tightly closed against the dizziness. What do I do to get away before I drown? I have to breathe. My chest is going to explode. I’ve got to have air. Just as her lungs were bursting, something huge flashed by her in the water and struck the crocodile with enough force to shove it sideways a few feet against the current. The predator opened its jaws to deal with the threat and Merys floated free.

A tiny hope of survival bloomed within her. A spurt of energy sizzled through her nerves, giving her new strength. Kicking as hard as she could with the injured leg, heart pounding, Merys clawed her way to the surface. The water in her vicinity churned bright red. Something solid rose from the murky depths. Merys screamed and flailed, too weak to swim. A hard surface lay under her, lifting her completely out of the water, supporting her as if she were stretched out on a board or a raft. Thank the gods for helping me. Nausea and dizziness overwhelmed her and the world faded from her view.

When Merys regained consciousness, she was held safe in Bek’s muscular arms, nestled against his broad chest. Too exhausted to question the miracle of his presence she curled closer to him in relief while he strode across the beach toward her favorite spot under the palm trees. Tenderly he laid her in the softest spot, then bent to examine her leg.

Blood gushed from a long series of deep, serrated slashes, staining her dress as well as his hands and kilt. The crocodile’s teeth had shredded her lower leg from ankle to knee. The bone showed through. The pain was excruciating.

Merys leaned to the side and vomited river water that burned her throat while Bek held her hair out of the way. As she wiped her mouth, exhausted, he pushed her gently to a reclining position. Chanting something, he proceeded to run his hands over her legs. The pain spiked, then receded.

What is he doing? Some kind of healing, but how? Green light shone from his hands, radiating from his palms in a cold, numbing rush. The light brought blessed relief, mending her skin and bones in front of her eyes. Thank the gods.

When he finished, Bek sat on his haunches, resting his hands on his thighs, and scrutinized her. His face was lined, his eyes shadowed. He was dripping wet.

Another time I would have appreciated this view. But right now I need to understand what happened. “You saved me? How? How could you defeat a crocodile? And what did you do to my leg?” Wriggling her toes, Merys touched her shin hesitantly with the tips of her fingers. I’m safe in his arms. Her pulse slowed. The weakness ebbed away as she relaxed.

Bek gathered her in for a hug and she breathed deeply of his clean masculine scent. Crooning her name over and over, he buried his face in her hair. Then he pulled back, framing her face with both of his broad hands, and met her eyes. “I thought I’d lost you.”

She put a trembling hand on his cheek. “Who are you, Bek?”

“Sobek.” He cleared his throat as he stroked her back with one hand. She realized her soaked dress must be clinging to her as tightly as his wet tunic was plastered to his body. She leaned into the shelter of his mighty arms. Bek rested his lips next to her ear and whispered, “I am Sobek.”

New strength pumped through her, making her heart pound and sending a hot pulse along her nerves. “The Crocodile God?” I’ve been sitting and talking to the Great One all this time, treating him like a human man? I fell in love with him. How could I have been so blind? So stupid? “The Crocodile God himself?”

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PRIESTESS OF THE NILE

RT Book Reviews 4 1/2 Stars

Night Owl Reviews Top Pick

The Story:

Drawn to his abandoned temple on the banks of the Nile by an enchanting song, Sobek the Crocodile god is even more captivated by the sight of the singer herself. Appearing to her as a man, he learns she is Merys, a descendant of his last priestess. Though filled with lust, Sobek believes Merys deserves to be more than just his mistress. But the rules that govern the Egyptian pantheon forbid anything beyond a physical joining of a Great One and a human.

Merys is attracted to the handsome stranger, who arouses passions in her that no man ever has. But with no dowry and no hope of ever leaving her village, she dares not dream of the future—or love.

Sobek takes every opportunity to visit Merys, taxing his resolve to leave her pure. And when he saves her life, their mutual desire must be sated. But can a love between a human and an immortal survive the ultimate test of the gods?

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HQN does retain the rights to the audiobook. This was also the original cover, which I absolutely fell in love with, by Frauke of Croco Designs but they also retained the rights to the art so I had to get a new cover from Fiona Jayde, who does all my scifi romance covers.

Audiobook: Amazon or iTunes

Oct 30 2020

Why I Wrote Ghost of the Nile With Excerpt

VS: From the archive…

In the mood to try a different kind of ghost story?

Ghost of the Nile is one of the standalone stories in my “Gods of Egypt” paranormal series set in ancient Egypt. For quite a while I’d been fascinated with the idea of writing a story set on an estate in the 1550 BCE era. One of the interesting things about Egypt was that for literally hundreds of years the climate and the daily life stayed pretty much the same. Pharaohs came and went but the more ordinary folk had quite an unchanging routine, linked to the Nile’s floods. I felt my hero could return from the Afterlife and fit right into his old home, although as a guest, not a resident. I thought the challenges for him could be intriguing.

One of my favorite series of novels is The Chronicles of Brother Cadfael by Ellis Peters. All the action is set in a small English town circa 1100 CE (Common Era). I love being able to revisit the town and the people over and over. I was hoping I could do that for my readers with stories set on one ancient Egyptian estate. Ironically, I didn’t write that entire series yet. But the ideas inspired my setting for Ghost. And if you like Regency house party stories, you may enjoy the portion of the book that occurs at an ancient Egyptian house party.

The Egyptians of 3000 years ago believed that unless you were buried in the soil of Egypt and had all the proper rituals recited for you, as well as your name preserved, you couldn’t enter the Afterlife. So my hero Periseneb, who was murdered and didn’t receive the rites at the time of his death, has been condemned to roam the fringes of the Afterlife and wage endless battles against demons and giant snakes.

I’m always fascinated with the goddess Ma’at, who represented truth, balance, justice…and who happened to be the goddess of second chances. I’m a Libra myself – scales, balance…. She was one of the Judges who weighed the heart of a dead person, to see if they deserved the Afterlife. So I decided she’d need a champion to accomplish some task in Egypt, and selects Periseneb, who she believes deserves a second chance at entry to paradise. A favorite old movie of mine is the 1963 version of “Jason and the Argonauts”. I love how the goddess Hera tells Jason she’ll help him three times along the way. I decided Ma’at would help Periseneb, and you’ll see in the book how he has to call for her assistance.

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The next intriguing concept this novel allowed me to play with was the ancient Egyptian idea of the terrifying nature of ghosts, or akhs. Periseneb himself is uncomfortable with being an akh returned to Egypt, and worries a lot about inadvertently loosing the evil powers he now possesses on the innocents around him.

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And last but not least, there’s the terrifying goddess or demon Ammit the Destroyer, who was part lion, part hippo and part crocodile, and known as Devourer of the Dead. I’ve wanted to find a way to incorporate her into a novel in a meaningful way because she’s so intriguing.

So there you have my influences which blended together with romance and adventure, to yield my latest novel!

This was my favorite review, from the ladies at Dear Author:

“There’s Egypt and gods and magic and strong men and stronger women and love even beyond death and into the Afterlife. The historic details add spice throughout the story and these definitely aren’t 21st C people in linen kilts.”

The story:

Betrayed, murdered, and buried without proper ceremony, Egyptian warrior Periseneb is doomed to roam the gray deserts of the dead as a ghost for all eternity.

But then the goddess of truth offers him a bargain: return to the world of the living as her champion for 30 days. If he completes his mission, he’ll be guaranteed entry into Paradise. Periseneb agrees to the bargain but, when he returns to the living world, two hundred years have passed and nothing is quite as he expected.

Neithamun is a woman fighting to hang onto her family’s estate against an unscrupulous nobleman who desires the land as well as the lady. All seems lost until a mysterious yet appealing ex-soldier, Periseneb, appears out of nowhere to help her fight off the noble’s repeated attacks.

Meanwhile, Periseneb’s thirty days are rushing by, and he’s powerless against the growing attraction between himself and Neithamun. But their love can never be. For his Fate is to return to the Afterlife, and Death cannot wed with Life…

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Excerpt – Periseneb has been summoned to meet the goddess:

He crossed the threshold into the chamber, his steps faltering at the sight of the deity waiting for him. But then, who had he expected? He was too lowly a shade for Isis or Osiris to bother with. Standing at attention, he saluted. “Lady Ma’at.”

Calm smile on her face, the Great One, goddess of truth, nodded to him. Taller than he, dressed in a finely pleated red sheath, the goddess was imposing. Her expertly painted face was accented by the towering red ostrich feather in her hair, and her expression could only be deemed welcoming. Eyebrows raised, eyes gleaming, she inspected him from head to toe as a commanding officer might.

He assessed the room with a glance, hope dying as quickly as it had sprung. Ma’at was alone. Neither of the other two judges, Anubis and Thoth, was present. Their chairs sat empty. The most dreaded occupant of the judging chamber was, thankfully, not paying any attention to him. As grotesque as the depictions of her hinted, the beast Ammit, Destroyer of Souls, slept snoring in a corner. Claws curled possessively, one hideous cheetah forepaw was draped over a gleaming human thigh bone. She snuffled, long pink tongue scraping the sharp crocodile teeth in her jaws, while her hippopotamus hind legs kicked in some dream. Repressing a shudder, Periseneb averted his eyes.

“I’m not here for my heart to be judged at long last, am I?” His voice sounded rusty to his ears.

“No indeed, Periseneb. The laws of the Afterlife haven’t changed—you can’t receive judgment, since none did you honor at the time of your death. No one performed even the tiniest ritual from the Book of the Dead on your behalf. You’ve no tomb, although your bones do lie in the soil of the Black Lands.” Ma’at’s voice was soft, her eyes misty with tears, apparently for him. “A paltry blessing, I know. I’m sorry.”

He knew she was sincere. Truth was the only utterance Ma’at could make. He rammed his sword into its sheath and rolled his shoulders. “Why then am I here? I didn’t seek this place out; I swear to you.” Pride stiffened his spine. He wouldn’t beg favors, not even when unexpectedly drawn into the presence of a gatekeeper, someone who could free his ka from ceaseless wandering…sentenced to defending the green serenity of the blessed duat, never to set foot there himself, banned for lack of proper ceremonies. The rule was harsh but just. No one deserved eternal life in the duat without proper judgment from the gods.

“Don’t concern yourself about misunderstanding, warrior. I summoned you.” The goddess walked to the ebony table where the scale for weighing the worthiness of human hearts stood ready. Idly, she tapped the balance beam and the arms swayed, cups twisting in the air on their thin gold chains.

Periseneb pushed away a rush of hot jealousy for the souls luckier than he, whose hearts had been weighed on the scales and obtained passage to the Afterlife for their owners. A tiny beacon of hope flickered in his mind. There had to be a reason Ma’at had picked him, of all the lost ones in the hinterlands, to meet with her.

“You recognize me as the embodiment of Truth?” She continued to toy with the scale, then picked up a slate and scanned the hieroglyphics before glancing at him, eyes gleaming under winged brows.

He nodded.

“Yet, I’m also a seeker of justice and balance, one who rights wrongs. I’m the goddess of second chances for the human race.” She raised her elegant eyebrows. “Although such chances are few and far between.”

Despite the warmth of the brightly lit room, a shiver worked its way down Periseneb’s spine. “You wish to right the wrong of my murder? Bring my murderer to account for the crime?”

She shook her head, the golden beads in her wig chiming like little bells. “Your death is done, past, woven into the fabric of life in the upper world these two-hundred years and more.”

He staggered, locking one hand on the edge of the table to steady himself. “So long?”

“Time here and time there run differently, warrior. Only the Nile remains unchanging.”

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Oct 27 2018

Ghost of the Nile Weekend Writing Warriors

In honor of Halloween coming this week, I’m going to my award winning Ghost of the Nile from 2015for today’s excerpt. It’s an unusual ghost story!

Here’s the link to the Weekend Writing Warriors central page, so you can visit all the participants sharing excerpts today…a fun way to sample new books and find new authors! (Also welcome to the Sunday Snippet visitors!)

I’ll switch to my newly released scifi romance Timtur: The Teacher’s Alien Healer (Badari Warriors) next week.

Punctuation may be wonky to comply with our guidelines here. May be edited a bit from published version.

The excerpt – my hero gets bad news in the afterlife from the goddess Ma’at, who is speaking as the excerpt starts:

“I’m also a seeker of justice and balance, one who rights wrongs. I’m the goddess of second chances for the human race,” She raised her elegant eyebrows, “Although such chances are few and far between.”

Despite the warmth of the brightly lit room, a shiver worked its way down Periseneb’s spine, “You wish to right the wrong of my murder? Bring my murderer to account for the crime?”

She shook her head, the golden beads in her wig chiming like little bells, “Your death is done, past, woven into the fabric of life in the upper world these two-hundred years and more.”

He staggered, locking one hand on the edge of the table to steady himself, “So long?”

“Time here and time there run differently, warrior. Only the Nile remains unchanging.” She moved to the black-and-gold chair, seating herself and leaning against the richly decorated back, “Yet, your death is connected in a way to events now.” Ma’at nodded her head as if some decision had been reached, “I need a champion.”

The story:

1550 BCE

Betrayed, murdered, and buried without proper ceremony, Egyptian warrior Periseneb is doomed to roam the gray deserts of the dead as a ghost for all eternity.

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canva all 7 books corrected

Nov 11 2017

Did Anyone Notice Weekend Writing Warriors

Continuing on with excerpts from my newly released paranormal romance set in ancient Egypt…Lady of the Nile. Next week I’ll switch to excerpts from The Fated Stars, my new scifi romance (which is already out there but formally releases on the 13th).

Going on with the vision Tuya has, where the goddess Mut reveals a truth to her about the life she’s chosen. Tuya speaks first. The excerpt (please excuse the edited punctuation to fit our rules here):

“I was needed!”

“The Royal Wife has fifty ladies-in-waiting, with dozens more who’d relish the chance for the appointment for a year or two.”

“I also serve the goddess at the temple.”

The woman laughed, “As one of a hundred – did anyone other than the goddess notice when you stopped singing today?”

Feeling a chill, and a bit frightened at her unknown companion’s knowledge, Tuya searched again for a path to the river. A low wall surrounded the spot where she stood, and she got goosebumps when she realized there was no break, no exit. She could step over the rows of nearly laid bricks but fear made her pause.

“Where are they all going?” she asked.

“They travel the road of life,” the woman said, “With all the experiences, good and bad, you’ve chosen to shield yourself from – the highs and the lows of a life lived. Not merely observed, not simply drifted through, like a ship caught in the backwaters of the Nile. You chart a safe course going nowhere except the tomb.”

Here’s the story:

Tuya, a high ranking lady-in-waiting at Pharaoh’s court, lives a life of luxury, pageantry and boredom. Khian, a brave and honorable officer from the provinces temporarily re-assigned to Thebes, catches her eye at a gold of valor ceremony. As the pair are thrown together by circumstances, she finds herself unaccountably attracted to this man so unlike the haughty nobles she’s used to. But a life with Khian would mean leaving the court and giving up all that she’s worked so hard to attain. As she goes about her duties, Tuya struggles with her heart’s desires.

When Tuya is lured into a dangerous part of Thebes by her disgraced half-brother and kidnapped by unknown enemies of Egypt, Khian becomes her only hope. Pharaoh assigns him to bring the lady home.

Aided by the gods, Khian races into the desert on the trail of the elusive kidnappers, hoping to find Tuya before it’s too late. Neither of them has any idea of the dark forces arrayed against them, nor the obstacles to be faced. An ancient evil from the long gone past wants to claim Tuya for its own purposes and won’t relinquish her easily.

Can Khian find her in time? Will he and his uncanny allies be able to prevent her death? And if the couple escapes and reaches safety, what of their fledgling romance?

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