Posts Tagged ‘GoodReads’

Until August 20th, you can enter to win a print copy of Linda Nightingale’s paranormal romance, Sinners’ Opera.  The book is getting super reviews.  Here’s the link:


sinners20 (2)Excerpt:

Chapter 1 – Sangreal

Charleston, South Carolina, May 29th


“Dear Lord,” a woman called to heaven, “such a young man.  So near death.  What could have happened to you?”

My body was one long, cold ache, but a hot center throbbed in my chest.  Wet and shivering, I craved only sleep and the blackness that held me.

Sirens wailed to a crash of thunder.  Somewhere, someone was in trouble.

I drifted on the ebb and flow of pain until the woman gave me a gentle shake.  Forcing my eyes open, I blinked to focus on the indistinct shapes materializing from fog.  Rainbow angels battled demons in a stained glass window.  Marble statues leered at me from the shadows.  An ornate crucifix cast its silhouette on the ebony saint bent over me.  Her countenance was round and full, her nose broad.  Pity glistened in her dark eyes.

“You’re awake.”  A smile trembled on her lips.  “Thank you, Jesus.”

She seemed to be in close communication with the man on the cross.  My upper body rested on her lap, my legs stretched on a shiny wooden floor.  Lush breasts cradled my head.  Her red blouse smelled of fresh baked bread, the tiny pearl buttons mesmerizing.

“I do declare you had me worried; you been so still-like.”

Her thick dialect called to me from the past, but I didn’t know if it was yesterday or years ago.  I don’t know who I am.  I frowned, trying to remember.  A trill of music scrolled through my mind.  The woman gave a tentative smile.  I started to smile back, but the scent of fear distracted me.  My clothes reeked of fear.

Another fragrance—dusky red and delicious—sent a shiver through me.  The rich aroma of her blood appealed to me on levels I didn’t understand.  The sensation was raw hunger mingled with passion.  Beyond the blood-scent, the musk of old wood and incense, the perfume of religion, summoned a vision of a blond boy in blue velvet and white lace kneeling at an altar.  As I grasped at the memory, like a wave retreating from the shore, something important slipped away from me.

The woman’s admiring gaze drifted over my face.  I wanted to touch her, tell her how much…how very much…I ached to kiss her black satin throat, but when I tried to lift my hand nothing happened.  Terrified, I glanced at my hands.  The bleached fingers were curled into dead claws.  The hands once considered magic and beautiful were horrible.

Panic drew my knees toward my chest.  “Oh, God, my hands can’t be paralyzed.”

The blow was physical, knocking the breath from me.  If I’d been struck blind, even deaf, I could still play, but if my hands were paralyzed—I was lost.  Music was my beloved mistress.  My piano alone stood between madness and me.

My companion shook her head, refusing to meet my wild-eyed gaze.  “Shush now, you going to be all right.  Mother Superior’s gone to call for help.”

“Mother Superior?”  Was I lying in a nun’s lap?  I was in a church, and that seemed totally absurd for some reason, but I was too terrified to laugh.  Crisp dark curls peeked from beneath a blue bandana, not a wimple.  “You’re not a nun.”

She stiffened as if I’d offended her.  “I come help the sisters out.  I might be a nun some day.”

The woman’s expression softened.  Lips pursed, she shook her head, dark eyes sad.  Her pity mortified me.  No one, since I’d been that boy in velvets and lace, had seen me cry.  Swallowing tears, I squeezed my eyes closed.  The other feelings she excited, I couldn’t deal with now.  She stroked my cheek, and I remembered to breathe but refused to open my eyes.  I couldn’t bear the sight or the scent of her.

An internal map—an anatomical image of flesh, muscles and veins—spread across my eyelids.  Hours, days, years might have passed, but it was probably only a moment or two.  Tingling needled my numb arms, swept into my fingertips, relaxing the ugly claws.  Holding my breath, afraid to hope, I willed my right hand to lift, felt the sensation of movement and opened my eyes.  The hand rose, hovered, flopped on my abdomen.  Dried blood crusted a jagged hole in my black velvet coat.  Fresh blood warmed the center of the wound.

Ah, another shade of the dusky red fragrance.  My blood possessed a wild bouquet, almost feral, and completely different from the woman’s blood.


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Today, I’m interviewing Toni Sweeney, a multi-published author in many different genres.  Welcome, kick off your shoes and stay awhile!

What is your greatest temptation:

Wow, we’re starting off with the nitty and the gritty, aren’t we?  O-k-a-a-y.

In men:  Some big, handsome Viking type, but with better manners and definitely no swordplay in the house!

In food:  Oh, this li’l Southerner has to have her boiled peanuts, as well as her barbecued ribs! Don’t let me get within a mile of a good plate of spare ribs and French fries.

In clothes:  I like wearing dresses and anything silky and flowing.

What is your greatest weakness (example: buying shoes)?

Books…BOOKS…BOOKS!!! I must have over 500.  I’m the Imelda Marcos of the Reader World. Nowadays I have e-books, of course, but I can remember a time when I’d scrape together my change to buy a book.sinbadlastvoyage (2)

If you could have any kind of car, what would it be?

I’d like a metallic flake crimson Jaguar convertible with the Leaper on the hood. Second choice would be an MG “Baby” if there were one around.

Your dream home – mountains or ocean?

Mountains…with a river running through it.

What inspired you to become a writer?

Nothing inspired me. I was born this way and I admitted it at the age of 6 when I penned my first “novel,” an epic graphic novel about a safari to Africa.

Do you have a daily writing routine?  If so, please share.

Wake up…attack the keyboard…type until brain exhausted…go to sleep.

What is your favorite book?

SInbadsWife (2)I’ve read so many…Dracula always stands out, as does Gone with the Wind…and if those aren’t two diametrically opposed ones, I don’t know what are!

What is your favorite movie?

There again, there are so many.  I can narrow it down to some I’ve watched over and over. Does that count?  Those would be The Rocky Horror Picture Show, Phantom of the Opera, Phantom of the Paradise, Babe and any of the old “Road” movies with Bing Crosby and Bob Hope.  (Yes, I know, another motley crew.)

In your books, who is your favorite hero and please introduce him?

Ahem…Ladies, Gentlemen, and Readers everywhere, may I present to you His Lordship, the Kh’ta and Prime Pride-chief of Khurda Province, Felida planet…Andrew Malcolm McAllister. Some of you in Federation law enforcement may know him also as Sinbad sh’en Singh, #12 on the Federation’s Most Waned List, but, as he’ll be quick to remind you, you can’t touch him now because your own government, in its all-mighty omniscient wisdom has made his smuggling operation a legitimate business enterprise. Sinbad himself is still shaking his head over that one, but…since it keeps him from being a criminal and makes his wife happy andpays for the kids’ educations, he doesn’t complain too loudly.

Who is your favorite heroine and please introduce her?

Also…I’d like you to meet Andrea Talltrees McAllister sh’en Singh, wife to Sinbad. Andi’s a Terran, an adopted Navajo, and it’s a wonder she and Sin ever got together since he hates Terrans with a passion almost matching that with which he loves her. She’s feisty, outspoken, and takes no guff from a man who’s not only a foot and a half taller than she is but also outweighs her by more than 200 pounds….and he enjoys every minute of their “disagreements.” Andi’s only complaintSinbadTriumph (2) about her hubby?  Probably the fact that he’s just hit his “Prime” so though they’re both past middle age now, she seems to behaving a lot of babies.

Do you write better in your hero’s or your heroine’s POV?

I dunno.  I feel I do pretty good in both.

What do you have out now?  Excerpt, blurb, book trailers

My latest novel is Sinbad’s War, Book 5 in The Adventures of Sinbad. It was released last week.


Sinbad sh’en Singh, smuggler-turned-shipping magnate, has become quite the family man, knee-deep in sons, grandchildren, nieces and nephews, complacent in his quiet but profitable life—and then a Federation emissary arrives, announcing the Fed is once more at war, and he’s been sent to obtain sh’en Singh Shipping’s Darters for its nearly destroyed fleet.

Not surprisingly, he’s refused, until Felida itself is attacked and there are casualties in Sin’s own family, among them his beloved Andi and new daughter Milagra.  Enlisting in the Air Guard, Sinbad and his sons find themselves in the war, scattered throughout the galaxy, and facing challenges some of them never expected.

The whole universe is about to discover there is nothing quite so dangerous as a Felidan who’s lost his mate.


“I don’t want to seem rude but I’ve a business to run, and I’d appreciate it if you’d state your purpose in being here so I can get back to it.”  Sin stared at Nils expectantly.

Nils stared back.

“Well?”  There was a hint of impatience in the deep voice.

“I-I’m sorry, but I was told you were paraplegic,” the young officer began and he nearly shook his head as he realized the statement came out sounding like an accusation.  His assignment had seemed so easy.  Just go to Felida, talk to the invalid owner of sh’en Singh Shipping, an old man partially paralyzed, dazzle him with Federation authority.  Already it was getting complicated.  “Y-you are Andrew Malcom McAllister…Sinbad sh’en Singh?”

“I am,” Sin answered just a little brusquely.  “And all that moving around you just saw is merely the work of a very finely-tuned micro-computer implant.”
For another minute, Nils stood staring before abruptly bursting into explanation.  “I-I’m going to get right to the point, Mr. McAllis…uh…sh’en Singh…sir.”

“I’m waiting.” Sin didn’t hide his sarcasm.

“Terra’s at war.”

“Am I supposed to be surprised?  What else is new?”  Sin shrugged.  “And who’s the unlucky aggressor this time?”

“A planet called Severan.”  Nils ignored his sarcasm.

“Never heard of it.”

SInbadsWar-001 (2)“Not many people have.  It’s a small world in the Drexus Cluster.  A petty bunch of blackbirders barely surviving in the slave trade until about fifty years ago, when a dissident faction overthrew the emperor and set about establishing a military-controlled planet.”  Without permission,  Nils sat down, sounding more certain of himself.   Then, he realized now he had to look up at Sin even more and regretted his decision.  “They’ve been slowly overrunning and subduing the weaker planets in the Cluster, attacking, pillaging, carrying off the inhabitants into slavery, stuff like that.”  He said it offhandedly, making it sound like every-day acts.

“And they’ve been stupid enough to attack Terra?  I doubt Earth attacked them,” Sin went on before Nils could answer. “Tell me, has there ever been a conflict in which the Earth was the agressor?  Still, fifty years isn’t long enough to get the military power to attack a planet that size.”

“That’s what the Federation thought when it was told a fleet of Severani warships were headed toward Terra, but it seems they were wrong.”  Nils shook his head.  He got to his feet again.  “

“Damn.”  Sin breathed the word. “I never thought I’d hear anyone say that.  But they retaliated?”

“Of course, what else could they do?”

“Of course.”  Once more that ironic tone.

“This is all very interesting, Captain Van Lewen.”  Sin went around the desk, dropping into the chair behind it. His hair fell over his shoulder again and he pushed it back, frowning at the look of wonder still lingering in the young man’s eyes.  “But what exactly does it have to do with me and mine?”

“The Fed’s sending officers like myself to all members of the Federation, setting up enlistment stations.”

“I see.”  The two words weren’t encouraging.

“We’re going to need all the man-power we can get for this one.  If we don’t get volunteers, we’ll have to start inductions, a-and they don’t want to do that.  We haven’t had a Draft in three hundred years, and quite frankly, with so many worlds involved, I doubt it could be effectively enforced.”

“Why come to me?”  Sin spread his hands questioningly.  “I’m just a humble merchant.  You should be talking to the Emperor.”

“I have, sir, or at least his representative.  Before I landed.  His Excellency has given his permission but told me since Khurda, as the largest Pride on Felida, was chosen as the site, I had to get the Prime Pride Chief’s permission also.  You’re anything but a humble merchant, sir.” And you damn well know it, too. Nils thought.  That slight smile said so. “So, here I am.”

He stopped, waiting.

“Hmmm.”  Sin didn’t answer, studying the young Terran intently over the tent of his fingers, while Nils attempted to stand still and not fidget under that cold green stare which made him feel like a schoolboy called to the headmaster’s office.  He couldn’t know Sin was thinking:  Now that’s true irony.  The Fed which caused my parents’ deaths, forced me to become a criminal, and declared my entire planet a world filled with non-humans, is now coming to me for help.

 Where can we find you?  (Social media, web site, etc.)

Goodreads: http://http://www.goodreads.com/search?utf8=%E2%9C%93&query=Toni+V+Sweeney
MySpace: http://http://www.myspace.com/tvsweeneyhttp://http://www.myspace.com/tvsweeney
Facebook: http://https://www.facebook.com/tvsweeneyhttp://https://www.facebook.com/tvsweeney
Amazon: http://http://www.amazon.com/Toni-V.-Sweeney/e/B002BLQBB8/ref=sr_tc_2_0?qid=1365694962&sr=1-2-enthttp://http://www.amazon.com/Toni-V.-Sweeney/e/B002BLQBB8/ref=sr_tc_2_0?qid=1365694962&sr=1-2-ent
Twitter: @tonivsweeney
Author Database: http://http://authorsdb.com/authors-directory/2030-toni-v-sweeneyhttp://http://authorsdb.com/authors-directory/2030-toni-v-sweeney
Ask David: http://http://askdavid.com/search/Toni-V.-Sweeneyhttp://http://askdavid.com/search/Toni-V.-Sweeney
Youtube: http://http://www.youtube.com/user/tvsweeney?feature=mhee

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