Wednesday, July 19, 2017

Running Target by Kari Lamor: excerpt and more!



 An innocent in the crossfire . . .

FBI agent Jack Holland broke every rule in the book falling for the girlfriend of Angelo Cabrini, son of a New Jersey mob boss. But even if Callie Lansing's relationship to Angelo was actually a cover and her heart was free, her relationship with Jack put both of their lives at risk. Nothing, though, could make Jack regret the liaison that led to the birth of their son, Jonathan.

After Angelo discovers Callie's pregnancy, he went after Jack and wound up dead. Now Jack is on the run with a large on his back. The only thing keeping Callie and Jonathan safe is the mob boss's believe that the baby is his grandchild. But if Victor Cabrini discovers the truth before Jack can put him behind bars, it could mean death for his sweet covert family . . . 










Excerpt:

An infant’s cry broke the stillness of the maternity ward as Jack crept through the hallway. He looked toward the nursery. Should he go there first or to where Callie was? The room was less risky and he needed to see her. Assure himself she was okay.
The door was ajar so he slipped through, closing it enough to allow a sliver of light to filter in. He made out the petite shape of the sleeping woman then saw the bassinet next to her. His breath left his body. The baby was here with her.
Stepping closer, he looked down on the clear container, the blue tag proclaiming this child to be a boy. Squinting in the dim light, he read the words. Mother’s name: Callina Lansing. Baby: Jonathan.
Jonathan. She’d named the baby after him. A lump clogged his throat. A son. Damn. He had a son and wouldn’t be able to get to know him, see him grow, share in his life. This fucking world was too cruel at times.
He shouldn’t take the chance but he needed to hold him. It was vital that he touch the life he and Callie had created. He wanted—no needed—to let his child know how much he loved him. The powerful emotion emanated from his heart even as he gazed down at the tiny figure. How could love grow this fast? His first glimpse was only a second ago. Now the feeling consumed him.
Reaching down, he stroked the side of his son’s face. The baby turned his head, his bow-shaped lips opening slightly. Jack’s heart beat faster. The protective instincts that had always come into play when he was around Callie, throbbed to life and expanded as he gazed at the sweet face of his son. Heat like an electric storm surged through his blood. How could he protect this child in his current situation? He’d bring more danger upon him if he hung around. Eight months of running, trying to escape the long arm of Victor Cabrini, had shown him what hell was. Now he glimpsed a small piece of heaven.
He slid his hands under the infant, lifting him from the bed to hold him close. Jonathan barely weighed anything. His heart constricted yet again. The innocent baby scent wafted into his nostrils and he blinked back the moisture filling his eyes. The reaction was primitive and territorial. This was his son.
Their child’s eyes opened but no cry erupted so Jack relaxed. It shook him to the core knowing Callie had named the baby after him. After deserting her she had every right to hate him. As much as he hated himself. Leaving her hadn’t been in his plans but the choice had been ripped away from him. It had taken a while to recover from the stabbing. Then the fuck-up by the Bureau had happened.
He stared again at the unfocused eyes of his son, his forehead touching that of the infant’s. Kissing his face, he absorbed every little facet he could. Who knew if he’d ever see him again.
Gazing at the sleeping woman, her innocent face relaxed in slumber, caused more pain to rip through his heart. Her dark hair, streaked with natural reds and golds, was a riot of curls that framed her peaceful face. Long lashes fanned over high cheekbones, highlighting the lovely structure of her eyes. His beautiful Calico Cat.
Had the pregnancy and labor been hard? She must have looked amazing, all round and filled with his child. Regret tore through him, anger warring with that emotion. Anger that his life had been stolen from him. He’d been fighting to get it back, but didn’t seem any closer now than he’d been eight months ago.
Jonathan let out a small mewing sound and Jack snuggled him close. “I’m right here, pal. I might not be around much but I wanted to let you know…I love you very much.” His voice cracked with emotion. “I’m your Dad.”
He had a son. Was now a father. But he couldn’t be a father—not in the way that it mattered. He’d swore he’d be better than his dad. But this—he’d be worse. As it began to sink in, his hands shook with the enormity of the situation.
A noise from Callie drew his eyes to the bed. She shouldn’t see him. It was too dangerous. Still he wasn’t ready to give up holding his son quite yet. You might as well rip his heart from his chest and throw it on the floor.



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Bio:
Kari Lemor was one of those children who read with a flashlight under the covers. Once she discovered her mom’s stash of romance novels, there was no other genre to even consider. For years, she had stories stewing in her mind, stories of love and happily ever after. But writing wasn’t something she ever liked in school. Of course, no one ever asked her to write a story about a couple falling in love. Now that her children are grown, she can concentrate on penning tales of dashing heroes who ride to the rescue and feisty heroines who have already saved themselves. 


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Wednesday, July 12, 2017

Trailer for Black as a Dark Moon, Scarlet as Sumac



Newly released trailer for my short story: Black as a Dark Moon, Scarlet as Sumac. It's going to be in the Fragments of Darkness anthology, coming September 13th.  You can add it on Goodreads now.




Monday, July 10, 2017



I'm on Alli Sinclair's blog talking about the story behind REACH FOR YOU. Fairy tale concepts & separated lovers.





Wednesday, July 5, 2017

A Bit about Me: Heirlooms, Mementoes, and Psychic Energy



I’ve been an antique dealer and collector for most of my life, in fact I started actively buying from estates as a teenager. Since the beginning, I’ve been fascinated by which objects people are eager to sell versus what they feel compelled to keep.  Even people who don’t like antiques will often hold onto a piece of heirloom jewelry or china. Rocking chairs and kitchen implements are also favorite keepsakes. One time I bought an entire estate, except for a broken wooden milking stool that the owner couldn’t bare to part with. I asked the owner if it reminded him of a family member and was surprised to learn he hadn’t ever noticed it before that day. But he stood there clutching the stool like it was the most important thing in the world.

Incidences like the man and his milking stool have I’m convinced it isn’t always sentimental, aesthetic, or financial reasons that draw a person to keep a certain objects. Sometimes the attraction happens at a deeper level.  When a person uses an object for years, it’s bound to absorb their vibes and develop psychic energy--like a paintbrush used by an artist or a cook’s favorite mixing spoon.  This energy may not resonate with everyone, but certain people will be attracted and experience a feeling of wellbeing or garner strength from the object’s energy.  

I’m not talking about a spirit literarily being housed in an object or about psychometry. I’m referring to a subtle energy that radiates comfort.  Of course, this can be experienced in the opposite way as well. Some objects can repulse a person, like a razor strap that was used for punishment or perhaps a wedding band from an unhappy marriage.


How about you? Have you felt drawn to keep certain heirlooms or mementoes? Are there things you’ve gotten rid of because they gave off negative vibes?




A HOLD ON ME

BLURB:

She never wanted to return.
He wants nothing more than for her to leave.
But the fire between them is as strong as the past that haunts them.

Annie Freemont grew up on the road, immersed in the romance of rare things, cultivating an eye for artifacts and a spirit for bargaining. It’s a freewheeling life she loves and plans to continue—until her dad is diagnosed with dementia. His illness forces them to return to Moonhill, their ancestral home on the coast of Maine—and to the family they left behind fifteen years ago, after Annie’s mother died in a suspicious accident.

Once at Moonhill, Annie is shocked when her aunt separates her from her father. The next time Annie sees him, he’s a bizarre, violent shadow of his former self. Confused, she turns to an unlikely ally for support—Chase, the dangerously seductive young groundskeeper. With his dark good looks and powerful presence, Chase has an air of mystery that Annie is irresistibly drawn to. But she also senses that behind his penetrating eyes are secrets she can’t even begin to imagine. Secrets that hold the key to the past, to Annie’s own longings—and to all of their futures. Now, to unlock them, she’ll have to face her greatest fears and embrace her legacy…

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