If there was ever a book with a perfect title, then it is this one…
I had a certain inkling about the first ‘hero’ to show up in the story, then thought I had my light-bulb moment, only to be left…dangling. It happened again. And again. Amar. Akash. Adi. All names with A, all standing for something, all appearing when… Woops, I don’t want to give anything away, I’ll just be a clever tease like the author and leave you—yes, dangling.
 
I fell in love with “Dangle” by Sutapa Basu for two reasons. Reason 1 is the story itself. I loved reading about the heroine Ips (I love that name, I associate it with “if” in a way, which fits) finding her inner strength, fighting the demons of her past, embarking on a quest of she knows not what and ending up with one thing first and foremost: love. For herself, for the broken girl she was, for the determined woman she is, for those around her and those inside her. The setting added to the allure, and let’s not forget the thrill of action and suspense throughout. I swear my heart jumped right out of my chest several times. Oh, and let me mention that the first chapter was one of the best I have ever read. Looking back now, I’m even more impressed and taken in by it than I was when I started reading the book.
 
Reason 2 is the author’s style. At times lyrical, philosophical and poetical, at other times lucid and lush, modern and emotionally evocative, it fits the story’s themes to a T. Not a word seemed out of place or too much. Some lines stuck with me. I fell for the poetry included among the prose too, feeling faint echoes of old Hindi songs and great poets like Tagore well up to shimmer in the air and weave a net of an almost nostalgic magic around the protagonists despite the decidedly contemporary set-up. Here’s a short excerpt that captures what I’m struggling to put into words:
 
“The lilt of a flute fills the half shadows. Emerald green silk unfurls to lavender hills. Mist gives way to a golden spectacle. Thickly embroidered into flowing waters are hundreds of lotuses. Sunlight dazzles on ruby, sapphire, turquoise and amethyst that reluctantly open their layers to reveal honeyed hearts. The humming of multitudes of bees reverberates in the room. Intoxicated by the sun-drenched perfume of blossoms, they weave in and out of the pattern. Sheer colours daze the senses. Drumbeats intrude softly, only to rise to a crescendo.
Another shape enters the frame. Hazy at first, the outlines darken gradually. It is an empty square etched in bold strokes holding within it diagonally a metallic piece curved to the bent of an index finger. The picture zooms out. The shape takes definition. It is the trigger of a snub-nosed AK-47. The drums fall silent.”
 
I had already read some books edited and / or coauthored by Sutapa Basu (and from Readomania), but I have to say this gem of hers is my favourite. Do yourself a favour and read it, you won’t just dangle but fall for its charms hook, line and sinker.
 
Rating: 5/5
​

Genre: Magical Realism / Religion
Book 1 of the Alchemy series
Release Date:  27th January 2014
Publisher: Crooked Cat Publishers
​
A world without war? 

Professor Sawhele Fielding stumbles across an invention that would change the world; something so monumental, it could spell the end of environmental disaster and conflict. With the help of her father, a shadowy figure in the world of international banking, she begins to set into motion the biggest upheaval the planet has seen.  

But in a changed world, dark forces are threatening the fragile peace. Where modern technology is proving useless, old magic from a bygone era might just save the day. Adrian Oliver, expert in ancient religions is skeptical until faced with incontrovertible proof that ancient evil is abroad once again. 

How could a Utopian dream of free fuel and peaceful co-existence turn into a nightmare? 

Iamo, a priest of the Mother Goddess and Riga, a Black Shaman assassin captain, are thrown together – reluctantly at first – to face a threat that nobody could have imagined before “The Changes”. 

ALCHEMY is the prequel to Shaman's Drum which features the adventures of Iamo and Riga through their world in the near future, where the established religions of our own days had been banned.  
 
EXTRACT

Daniel stood beside me, pointing out the “Who’s Who” of this august gathering.
“The guys in leather are the Odinists, old Norse religion. Obviously, the chap with the sickle is
the Chief Druid, yes, that is a fox-head he’s wearing as a headdress. Now, that one there, the
shaven-headed one in a kilt-type thing. He’s the High Priest of the Egyptians. I think they have a few sub-divisions but… oh yes, here comes the High Priestess of Isis, she’s his female counterpart.”
By this time my jaw was dropping. The lady in the wig, smothered in jewellery was like
something straight out of a Cleopatra movie and eye-wateringly gorgeous. Daniel nudged me again and I thought for a moment that a Christian monk in traditional brown robes had sneaked in.
“That tall woman in white. That is Lady Solus, she will probably try to take over. She’s a bit of a tartar and that young man with her is her assistant. Bright chap by all accounts. Oops! Looks like
one of the Dianics is going to make a fuss.” I had no idea what one of those was but just made sure the camera was running, kept my mouth shut and watched. A woman with a shaven-head and a bow slung across her back stood up and pointed at the painfully thin monk-like youngster.
“Abomination!” she hissed. “He leaves!”
The priestess indicated to me as Lady Solus turned very slowly and gave her a glare that would
have frozen water in two seconds.
“He stays. I do not argue with stray cats.”
The young man in question had said nothing, remaining two paces behind his boss. I caught his eye and thought there was something vaguely familiar about him. Although his face remained impassive, a pair of bright blue eyes fixed me and very slowly one eyelid dropped in an almost imperceptible wink. I was too busy to think about it then but I would have to remember where I had seen him before.
 
BUY LINKS

Amazon International http://bit.ly/1Z4HCUb
Barnes and Noble:  http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/alchemy-ailsa-abraham/1118067058?ean=9781909841505
​
STOP PRESS!!!
GRAB YOUR COPY TODAY AT THE SPECIAL REDUCED PRICE. BUT BE QUICK! OFFER ENDS SOON!
​

​Ailsa Abraham writes under two names and is the author of six novels. Alchemy is the prequel to Shaman's Drum, published by Crooked Cat in January 2014. Both are best-sellers in their genres on Amazon.
She has lived in France since 1990, enjoys knitting and crochet and until recently was the oldest Hell's Angel in town. Her interests include campaigning for animal rights, experimenting with different genres of writing and trips back to the UK to visit friends and family. She runs an orphanage for homeless teddy bears and contributes a lot of work to Knit for Africa. She is also addicted to dressing up, saying that she is old enough to know better but too wise to care.
 
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/AilsaAbrahamTheAlchemyWriter/
Goodreads Author Page: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6880582.Ailsa_Abraham
Twitter: https://twitter.com/OtterAbraham?ref_src=twsrc%5Etfw 
Website: https://ailsaabraham.com 
Google+: https://plus.google.com/109695184517866287421/posts 
​

Meet Claire, Vic’s younger sister

​What has she done now?
Claire can be charming one moment and quite horrible the next,
so it’s a fair question to ask.
In the past she had her lawyer sue for the custody of baby Cannon, claiming Vic to be female and unfit to raise a child. Xavier declared Claire to be mentally unstable and Dr. Connor even legally certified Vic was a man. (She isn’t). So the matter was removed from the dockets.
Instead of cutting off Claire for good, Vic gave Claire a sweet baby girl that she rescued from a victim of pedophilia. [In 1895 there was no word for this particular deviance. It was called a ‘temporary aberration’ or, if the person was wealthy and of some importance, ‘an occasional luxurious specialty of a few over-refined persons’.]  And while the young mother had been permanently harmed by her wealthy, powerful uncle, Vic offered to find a home for the beautiful baby that ‘Justine’ intended to pay a baby farmer to kill.
So Claire gets a baby and should be happy now, right? Sadly not. She complains to authorities until they close Justine’s business. Needing a place to live and food to eat, Justine moves in with her pedophile uncle. When Justine discovers the woman who got her baby was the lady who got her business shut down, she stole the child back and kidnapped the nursemaid as well.
And did Claire hold herself responsible for this debacle? No, she did not. She insisted Vic’s activities must have caused some villain to steal her child, for everyone loves her. 
​

​Chaos abounds in Late Victorian England. Xavier goes off on a mission without Vic because her protector, Tubs, is not well enough to keep Vic from harm right now. In fact, Tubs is dying and the doctor doesn’t expect him to live for more than a week. Upon discovering Tubs’ dire situation, Vic sets about rescuing him instead.
Good thing too. To all appearances the two strongest crime lords of London have declared war on each other. Only the two attempts on Vic’s life tells her this is all a clever plot by a third party—worse yet, a female villainess.
To stop the crime lords from destroying one another, leaving their territories open to the Russian spy, she must bring Seth and Samson together, share what is really going on, and get them to agree to work against this third party. Not an easy task since Seth Sojourn thinks Vic is nothing but a foolish sop. Unfortunately, Xavier has gone missing, so it’s up to her to convince the angry crime lord that her plan is best. Otherwise, this villainess will kill everyone who gets in her way and bring England to its knees.
​

“Casey, Fagan, with me,” Vic whispered and left the room. In the lobby, Casey gripped her arm. “What’s happened?”
“My niece has been kidnapped along with the nurse maid,” Vic said, her pain making her voice louder than she wished. A man in the corner of the waiting room stared at her.
She turned and headed to the door.
“Victor, a moment please?” the man called out.
She turned to face him. “I really don’t have time right now.”
“I understand.” He handed her a card. “If you want my help, I will put my men on the matter. You need only ask.” He then squeezed her arm. “On your way, son.”
She didn’t look at the card until she got into the carriage.
Alistair Winthrop, Minister of Internal Affairs.
 She slipped the card into her vest pocket. If Stone wouldn’t help, she would use that card as leverage.

Book 7
The CrimeLords’ War
Free with Amazon Kindle Unlimited
 
Need to catch up?
Book 1
The Troublesome Apprentice
Book 2
The Missing Partner
Book 2.5
A Right to Love
Book 3
The Mesmerist
Book 4
Well Kept Secrets
Book 5
Pack of Trouble
Book 6
The Darkest Days
 
 
All Xavier & Vic books are Free with Amazon Unlimited
​

Liza O’Connor was raised badly by feral cats, left the South/Midwest and wandered off to find nicer people on the east coast. There she worked for the meanest man on Wall Street, while her psychotic husband tried to kill her three times. (So much for finding nicer people.) Then one day she declared enough, got a better job, divorced her husband, and fell in love with her new life where people behaved nicely. But all those bad behaviors has given her lots of fodder for her humorous books. Please buy these books, because otherwise, she’ll become grumpy and write troubled novels instead. They will likely traumatize you.

You have been warned.

Mostly humorous books by Liza:
Ghost Lover--Two British brothers fall in love with the same young woman. Ancestral ghost is called in to fix the situation. And there’s a ghost cat that roams about the book as well. (Humorous Contemporary Romance)
Saving Casey— Cass wakes up in the body of a troubled teen who has burned every bridge imaginable. Her only choice is to turn this life around, but that’s much harder than she ever imagined.
Untamed & Unabashed--The youngest of the Bennet sisters, Lydia, tells her story. A faithful spinoff from Pride & Prejudice.
​
A Long Road to Love Series: (Humorous Contemporary odd Romance)
Worst Week Ever — Laugh out loud week of disasters of Epic proportions.
Oh Stupid Heart — The heart wants what it wants, even if it’s impossible.
Coming to Reason — There is a breaking point when even a saint comes to reason.
Climbing out of Hell — The reconstruction of a terrible man into a great one.
The Hardest Love — Is to love oneself. Sam’s story.
​
The Adventures of Xavier & Vic Sleuth series: (Late Victorian/Mystery/Romance)
The Troublesome Apprentice — The greatest sleuth in Victorian England hires a young man who turns out to be a young woman.
The Missing Partner — Opps! The greatest sleuth in Victorian England goes missing, leaving Vic to rescue him, a suffragette, and about 100 servants. Not to mention an eviscerating cat. Yes, let’s not mention the cat.
A Right to Love — A romantic detour for Jacko. Want to see how amply rewarded Jacko was when he & Vic save an old woman from Bedlam?
The Mesmerist — The Mesmerist can control people from afar and make them murder for her. Worse yet, Xavier Thorn has fallen under her spell.
Well Kept Secrets — The problems with secrets is that they always come to light, no matter how you wish to silence them.
Pack of Trouble — Changes are a part of life, but these changes almost kill Vic.
The Darkest Days — Muddled cases make Vic very grumpy.
The CrimeLords’ War — Vic is almost killed twice as she tries to prevent a CrimeLords’ War and stop a female Russian spy from killing Xavier. 
​

FOR MORE INFORMATION ABOUT
LIZA O'CONNOR
Investigate these sites:
Liza's Blog and Website   Facebook   Twitter
​

My first royal romance novel The Prince's Special Bride was released on July 29th, and I couldn't be more excited. So, I want to share some 'behind the book' tidbits and my inspiration. You can find the blurb and buy links here.
​

​I've always been fascinated by royalty - must be my European side. I have fond memories from my years in Germany when I was glued to the television while royal after dashing royal got married. What I found especially intriguing even those days - long before I started writing romance novels - was a union between a prince or princess and a 'common' person just like you and me.

Ever since I became a romance novelist, this idea was lurking in the background that I need to make this modern-day magic come alive. It's such an interesting premise, of both parties coming from almost different world and having so much to learn, to meet in the middle and believe in their love.
 
Several months ago, a post on Facebook really caught my attention and gave me the final push to start on the Royal Romance series. It was about women of color who had married royals / aristocrats from around the world: http://www.blackenterprise.com/lifestyle/royal-report-6-regal-black-women-from-around-the-world/
​I found other posts on the internet too, such as this one: http://www.dailymail.co.uk/femail/article-2338458/Pictured-Bride-set-Britains-black-marchioness-marriage-aristocratic-father-law-snubbed-row-erotic-paintings.html
​
As I love writing multicultural romance novels, the idea sparked something inside me. Marie, the heroine of The Prince’s Special Bride might not be “black” in the literal sense, but her background and skin color are among the many issues that make her love story more interesting and complicated.
​
​Here are two short excerpts from the book where the topic crops up:
 
Marie used the maid’s absence to get dressed, picking the only other dress she owned. It was a white summer dress reaching her knees, decorated with huge blue and yellow flowers, the skirt flowing loosely while the waist was accentuated by a narrow white belt. As it was a sleeveless dress, she combined it with a white bolero and prayed it would be acceptable. Somehow, being the only woman in trousers was too awkward. She didn’t care that the whiteness of the dress brought out her light brown skin, though. Taming her curls in a ponytail with a white ribbon, she slipped into matching white sandals, aware that her outfit would still be one of the most colorful in the palace as everyone else seemed to favor pastels, unicolor or well-matched ensembles without bright patterns.
She spent the next hour happily touring the palace in Susan’s wake, making quite a few heads turn despite the politeness everyone seemed to breathe like oxygen. A few women tittered and whispered in a pretty unladylike manner, several men stopped to stare at her from the corner of their eyes. Holding her head up high, Marie pretended not to notice, although it nettled her that most probably none of the fair-skinned guests were attracting so much attention.
 
* * *
 
She stood her ground, liking it how his tall, finely muscled frame blocked out the sun.
He was looking intently at her, as if expecting an answer. Well, why not be honest?
“The palace is truly magnificent, and I’m honored to be its guest, but I have to say I feel more at home in the garden.”
“I can see that.” His gaze roved over her, taking in her discarded sandals and the curls she knew must have escaped her ponytail.
“It’s an exceptionally fine garden,” she added, feeling the odd need to justify her being here.
Christian nodded once. “So it is. And you are free to come and go in it as you wish, even if you should disrupt the work by doing so.”
Was there any reproach in his tone? Marie squinted, but his next remark sent her defenses up.
“But perhaps you should wear a hat the next time?”
She raised her chin defiantly. “Why, so I don’t get even blacker and ‘disrupt’ the goings on of the palace?”
He looked taken aback. “I didn’t mean it like that, Ma…Miss Kemei. There is nothing wrong with your skin color at all.”
The intensity of his gaze and the rough edge to his voice slid through her like a knife through melted butter. She shouldn’t like it so much that he approved of her complexion…if it was even the truth and not mere flattering or trying not to lose his face. Had he almost called her by her first name, out in the open? The incident from last night made her skin flush more than the warmth around her had.
Stepping back a little so that she was bathed in sunlight again, he added in a mild, careful voice, “The Taragonian sun can be quite harsh. Most women here wear a hat if they’re out and about.”
Marie resisted the urge to shield her eyes from the glare and prove him right. “I am not most women,” she said evenly.