Rosie’s #BookReview Team #RBRT @SassyKebkerr reviews @MonstersnAngels #ParanormalRomance

The First Review!

Rosie Amber

Today’s team review is from Karen B, she blogs here http://sassyredheadbookreviews.wordpress.com

#RBRT Review Team

Karen has been reading Monsters and Angels by Anne Marie Andrus

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My Review of “Monsters and Angels” by Anne Marie Andrus

I really enjoyed this book and would recommend it to anyone who likes paranormal romance stories. Sorcha is a young woman who loses her mother unexpectedly and decides after her funeral to leave NY for something new. She boards a train to New Orleans to answer an advertisement for nurses to work in a hospital run by nuns and a Dr. Banitierre, who only works nights. Her desire to make her mother proud of her, even though she is gone, drives her to be a hard worker who puts a lot of care and love into her job as a nurse.

An unfortunate incident changes her life forever while she is on a sojourn with the nurses…

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Monsters & Angels Cover Reveal!!

Finally! Time to show off the spectacular Monsters & Angels cover!

Special thanks to Magali Frechette at Storm Owl Art . She didn’t just design a cover, she wrangled my scattered visions and hit it out of the park!

 

 

Fledgling nurse Sorcha Alden knew she had the skills to save lives, but she never dreamed her own life would be the one in danger.

Driven by tragedy to honor her family name, Sorcha embarks on a journey that takes her from the bleak but familiar streets of New York, through the sultry and seductive city of New Orleans, and into the brutal jungles of Nepal. Forging friendships and carrying on her mother’s mission of healing was her dream. Plunging into a love affair with the mysterious Dr. Ashayle, could have been a fairytale.

Being murdered and waking up as a blood-thirsty monster—became her living nightmare.

Torn away from a life that had just begun, Sorcha returns to New Orleans as a newborn vampire, forced to start over in a cutthroat underworld of devilry and decadence. Complicated politics, bitter rivals and jealous ancestors stand between her and the promises she’s still determined to keep.

In a realm where the boundary between good and evil is as murky as the Mississippi River and immortal does not mean invincible, will Sorcha ever risk her shattered heart and love again? Can the magical harmony of the Crescent City give her enough courage to fulfill her eternal destiny?

 

Anne Marie has been an equestrienne, chorale singer, candy-striper, EMT, and baseball fan. Roaming the back roads of New Jersey with her family, she found great respect for antiques, historical locations and the stories they hold. Her current list of favorite pastimes include coffee, bourbon, and Les Misérables–which requires more bourbon. She has been known to attend sporting events just for the flyover. The boat she and her husband christened Glory Days, is her escape from the chaos of everyday life.

The inspiration for Anne Marie’s debut novel, Monsters & Angels, is her fascination with vampires and her passion for everything New Orleans. When she isn’t writing, she can be found working nights with the critical care team in a busy trauma center.

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Monster Ramble…

 

It’s almost May and my blog feels neglected. No more!

These past months have been a blur of work, school and snow, but we kicked stress to the curb with a wild, Billy Joel drink n’ dance party at Madison Square Garden. Special thanks to Brian!

The upcoming months will be busy…super busy. Fun busy! I’m putting the final touches on Monsters & Angels, approving the interior, setting up blogs tours and reviews, scheduling social media stuff…  All this craziness is aimed at my release date of October 11, 2017.  Sign up for the newsletter here !

There will be the saga of my Vampire Ball dress. This gown demands a blog series of its own. Its a monster.

The party will only grow wilder, all the way through Halloween and the Endless Night Vampire Ball in New Orleans. Because the truth is, all the roads I travel lead to New Orleans.

But before all that—the Monsters & Angels cover reveal! I can’t wait to show off the dazzling cover art designed by Storm Owl Art !

A fellow author Ramon Ballard recently published the heartfelt, historical tale , The Last Chance.  Ramon asked himself this question > “Why did you write your book?”  I’m going to answer that, with a new twist.

Author Dan Alatorre just released the hilarious Italian misadventure,  Poggibonsi . On Dan’s blog, he interviews one of his characters,  Sam , to showcase her incredible voice. I’m going to try that also, with one of my characters who hasn’t received enough spotlight yet.

Even though I was exhausted yesterday after Scott and I spring cleaned Glory Days, the spirit of our boat always gifts me a jolt of creativity. It felt like summer and reminded me of “Jazz Fest Syndrome”… where I leave 40 degrees and rain in New Jersey and nearly pass out at Jazz Fest in 85 degrees plus humidity<<not even that hot, but any event that coins a syndrome or a gets its own name like “The Gumbo Incident” is unforgettable.

I’m a little bummed about missing Jazz Fest this year, but the winding road to New Orleans glows brighter every night…

In Three-Quarter Time

Our first day of spring.

By this date next year, Sorcha Alden’s story will out there.

That’s a scary thought—relaxing my control-freak grip enough to set this story free.

I know the time has come, to let go, to look forward, to share the magic of the Equinox Gala…

When the doors swung open, hundreds of candles adorned the walls like burning gemstones. Raimond grasped Sorcha’s hand and raised it to eye level. Stretching out at full arm’s length he presented her in the center of the dazzling ballroom. They turned in a circle, acknowledging the guests around the dance floor and many more ringing the upstairs gallery.

“May I have the honor of your first dance, Lady Sorcha?”

“Yes Duke, but the honor is all mine.”  

“And the music?”

“The waltz, please.”

“The waltz it is.” Raimond turned toward the orchestra director. “S’il vous plait…”

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The First Move…

“Quit stalling in there!” Steven pounded on the bathroom door while Rayna, Julia, and Penny paced the floor. When Sorcha emerged in her slip, she was pushed into a chair in front of her dressing mirror. More maids scampered through the door and went to work painting her nails and setting her hair in curlers.

Lily babbled as she applied false eyelashes, strand by strand. “I recommend the dark lip stain—less smudging.”

Penny spritzed sample perfume on linen strips.

Steven grabbed his nose and sneezed three times. “You know not to spray that near me.”

“The spicy jasmine, please.” Sorcha patted Steven’s back.

“It’s just allergies. That slip is beautiful enough to be the dress itself.”

“Your allergies are in your tiny mind.” Julia snorted.

“Oh, shut up.”  Steven held a handkerchief over his face and collapsed in a coughing fit.

“Ok, stop,” Sorcha said, “I want a short break and Steven could use some air. You all need to get dressed, too.”

Julia stormed out.

The rest of Sorcha’s attendants hesitated until she gave each a sincere hug. “You’ve made me feel like a movie star. Steven, how in the world do you have allergies?”

“Never mind.” He dabbed the corners of his eyes with a sleeve. “I’ll see you downstairs.”

“Can someone send for Raimond? I need to have a word with him.” Digging in her nightstand, she found a smashed pack of cloves. Glad I don’t have allergies. Sorcha straightened the least damaged cigarette and lit it in the doorway of the balcony.

“I’ve been summoned?” The duke appeared out of the shadows, dressed in tuxedo pants and unbuttoned shirt, missing his tie and shoes.

“That’s a dashing look—you should attend the party as you are,” Sorcha said, “I especially like the slicked-back hair.” Sultry and dangerous.

“Touché.” Raimond scanned her outfit. “Is that underwear or your gown?”

“Ha-ha. There’s an important question I need answered. I want to know the procedure to change a human into a vampire.”

He shook his head and his finger in unison. “Way too soon.”

“I’m serious—I need to know.”

“Do you require my assistance?” The prince appeared on the balcony, like a phantom in a silk robe…

 

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Where The Power Hides

In the muggy air of a cavern under the Old U.S. Mint, Sorcha’s long curls puffed with freedom as if held up by a devilish breeze.

“Let’s get started.” Ivori rubbed her palms together. Her eyes flashed orange as she mumbled peculiar lyrics in a foreign tongue. Smokeless fire erupted in a circle of rocks.

“What, exactly, are we summoning here?” Lock asked.

“Not what. Who,” Ivori answered, “All of us are searching for someone. Picture that person in your mind.”

Draven groaned and let blond wisps cover his face. “My Gwyenvere.”

Sorcha slipped back to a night in Nepal, the eve of a tragedy.

Lock flashed his brilliant violet eyes, but remained silent.

“I know it’s painful.” Ivori played an invisible piano with one hand while pouring the contents of a sachet in a perfect circle with the other. “No need to speak names aloud.”

“Is that—” Draven choked and held his nose. “Bone?”

“Teeth, actually.” Ivori emptied a vial of black syrup in the center of the circle. “From a shark who is still very much alive.”

“What a comfort.” Lock followed Ivori’s pointing finger to a metal box. “May I help?”

“Just with the latch.” She watched him spin the mechanism until the lid sprung open. A twisted, rusty arrow lay next to a perfectly polished dagger and a sapphire candle.

Sorcha rolled her eyes.

“Oh, it gets weirder even before I cut you…and myself.” Ivori deflected angry stares. “First, everyone needs to clear their minds and envision the moment when you were strongest.”

“My apologies—no.” Draven bolted up. “This sounds preposterous.”

“I want to hear her plan.” Sorcha yanked him back down. “We’ve had no luck doing this on our own.”

Ivori dipped the blue candle’s wick in the fire and set it on the altar. “If you can evoke your soul at its most powerful—the instant when you embodied the best of all your dreams—that force can summon anyone across all realms of the universe. I think.”

“You think?” Sorcha threw her hands in the air.

“So,” Lock said, “I just picture that occasion in my head?”

“Project the vision in front of you, like a personal widescreen. Once you’ve got it, raise your hand.” Ivori looked from face to face and waved the candle over the puddle of syrup, directing the liquid outward into the circle of bone. The mixture ignited flames that crawled until the ring was complete. Ivori looked up to see three raised hands.

“All ready.” Draven faked a smile.

“Perfect.” Ivori grabbed the dagger and raced around the fire pit. “This next part goes pretty quick. Don’t do anything until I tell you to, but keep concentrating.”

Draven and Lock each hissed when she sliced their palms. Sorcha didn’t flinch when Ivori cut both her hands at once.

“Now.” Ivori ran back behind the fire. “Men, squeeze a few drops into this circle.”

The moment Draven and Lock’s blood mingled, they were knocked back onto the benches.

 Ivori sliced her own flesh over the flames and snapped her eyes to Sorcha. “Your turn.”

When Sorcha’s blood touched the ring, the ground began to quake.

“Men, be ready to join hands with her when this metal pierces wood.” Ivori raised the twisted arrow over her head and drove it toward the altar. “Now!”

The three slammed their hands together and the jolt started with the men. The blood of two ancient dynasties filled the air with black and gold sparks.

Sorcha looked to the weapon in Ivori’s hand and then into the girl’s inky black eyes. A low growl escaped her lips. Force leapt from her chest, rippled the air and plunged into the earth under their feet.

Each vampire’s perfect vision swirled overhead until their solid bodies flickered and finally distorted.

Draven’s shift solidified first. His modern suit became a classic, midnight tuxedo. His fingers gripped an open box. A ruby ring glittered in the velvet center.

Lock’s appearance dissolved next. Instead of the black t-shirt and jeans he arrived in, he now wore his full military uniform. Royal insignia lined his shoulders and medals covered his chest.

Sorcha dropped her gaze and changed last. Her eyes blazed with blue fire and her long hair became a chin-length, bob. Her porcelain skin melted away, replaced by the snarling face of a tiger.

Ivori flung her arms out and threw back her head to a cacophony of drunken notes. “By the power of a lone trumpeter’s call, the roar of a warrior’s charge, and the murmurs of saints and phantoms that bow to our sovereign—I summon all the lost souls home!”

 

 

 Read Part 1..

Snapshots Of A Stray Parade

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 The painting in the photo is by artist, Dorothy Collier. You can find her work at http://www.dorothycollier.com

This was my favorite find on a recent New Orleans adventure…now beautifully framed and hanging on my wall.

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