Please join me in welcoming today's guest author Sheila English!
Meet Author Sheila English
I’ve always been a writer. I finished my first full-length novel
at age 10. I still have that book. I would never show it to a soul.
LOL
I’m an avid reader and I read all genres. I am a Doctor
Who fan and have a life-size TARDIS in my home that I use as my office. I
collect and restore antique typewriters and cameras. I have worked in dog
rescue for years and all 5 of my dogs are rescues. I live in the beautiful
Redwoods of Northern California 1 ½ miles from the ocean. I write comic books,
attend comic cons and embrace my inner nerd.
Books are my escape and I want to write the kind of books that
transport people away from their daily burdens and into the fantastical,
emotional adventures of stories.
~ ~ ~
C.H.: What is your favorite romance read?
Sheila: I have so many! Jane Eyre comes to mind. Dark Prince by
Christine Feehan or Dragon Bound by Thea Harrison.
C.H.: Would you rather watch a Romantic Comedy or a Romantic
Drama?
Sheila: Romantic comedy!
C.H.: Do you have a favorite reading spot?
Sheila: Yeah, my bed! LOL
C.H.: Do you curl up with book and a cup of tea or coffee?
Sheila: I enjoy both very much! But if I have to choose I’d go with
coffee.
C.H.: Do you prefer reading an e-book or holding a book in your
hands?
Sheila: I have been switching over to e-book more and more. Saves space
and as long as I have my phone, I have a book. And I always have me phone!
C.H.: What is the title of the first book you published?
Sheila: Shadows Across the Moon
C.H.: Do you have a favorite series that you have written?
Sheila: Adam Frankenstein series.
C.H. Any favorite character or characters that still wake you up
at night?
Sheila: I love Pia and Dragos and always wonder what they’re up to.
Of my own? Adam and Rebecca.
C.H.: Do you prefer
to plot out your stories, or do you just wing it?
Sheila: I totally wing
it. I tried to plot a few times but I never take my own suggestions and my
characters just do what they want anyway. It was a bust. But I do
get surprised a lot while I’m writing and that’s part of the adventure!
~ ~ ~
Blurbs:
Adam Frankenstein:
Search for a Soul
Adam Frankenstein: Search for a
Soul - If you were created and not born, had no family, no friends, how would
your personality develop? What life experiences would shape your soul?
What
would you become? Each story opens the door for Adam’s humanity.
Adam Frankenstein: Fear Fest is a
comic book thriller/mystery set in New Orleans where a missing woman could be
the beginning of the apocalypse.
The Faith Healer's Daughter Trilogy
The Faith Healer’s Daughters
trilogy box set includes -
The Keeper of the Light
The Keeper of the Dead
The Keeper of Souls
A modern-day young adult coming of
age paranormal romance follows three sisters as they try to escape the fate of
forced marriage in their evil father’s cult. (PG rating, no sex).
Each one comes into their own power; the power to heal, power over the dead and
the
power to manipulate souls.
Where to find author Sheila English:
Social media links:
Twitter - @SheilaEnglish67
~ ~ ~
Adam Frankenstein: Search
for a Soul
Excerpt from Marked
The
girl showed no fear of him as he suspected she would. Most children feared him.
He was unusually large and his face a hideous mess. Instead, she thought to
bargain with him for his dog’s attention. He wondered if the magic of the mask
somehow extended to the child?
Her
hair was nearly white and her eyes so blue he couldn’t stop looking into them.
There was kindness and innocence and peace there. He felt that he would protect
her with everything he was. He would give her anything.
He
frowned. “Are you using magic on me to get your way?” he asked.
Immediately
the feeling went away, evaporating like water on a hot stove. She looked away,
her chin hitting her chest.
Sabine
rubbed her arm. “You know it is not right to use your gifts for sin. You must
not covet Adam’s dog. You must not beguile him to get your way. The Virgin sees
your deeds.”
Celeste
blinked away threatening tears. “I apologize, Lord Frankenstein. I just really
would like to hold your dog.”
Adam
thought the magic she’d used was lingering as the vicinity of his chest which
burned with longing to make the child smile. She was so frail. So small. Her
bones were no more solid than that of a bird.
“Bella
chooses her own friends,” Adam said. “I leave it up to her.”
The
girl’s smile was so beautiful and sweet he knew that if kindness had a face,
this was it.
“Oh
Bella!” Celeste said, hugging the dog to her heart. “We will be best friends
and love each other. We will play together and sleep together. I will feed you
from my plate and we will play games.” She nearly glowed with happiness. “Lord
Frankenstein, God will surely bless you for bringing Bella here.”
“Call
me Adam,” he told her. He’d never wanted the name, Frankenstein. His creator
was mad and cruel, and his creator’s lover a witch who used black magic to
bring him to life. But, it was his legacy and he had overcome it. His friend,
Mary Shelley, used the name when she wrote about him. It was she who convinced
him to keep the cursed name.
“Sabine?”
the girl questioned.
“It is
alright, Celeste,” Sabine assured her. “Adam is unlike anyone you’ll ever meet.
He is special. We can break a few rules to accommodate his requests. You may
call him Adam.”
She
smiled, then laughed when Bella began to lick her face. “Adam, I am so happy
you are here.”
Adam
tried to push away the disconcerting feelings that began to overwhelm him. He’d
accuse her of using magic, but she was no longer looking at him. She was so
wrapped up in playing with Bella, who had stolen a sock from Sabine and now
refused to release it into Celeste’s care, he doubted she thought of him at
all. Tug of war would be the game for the night until both child and dog fell
asleep some hours later.
~ ~ ~
The Faith Healer's Daughters Trilogy
Keeper of the Dead
Excerpt from Chapter 1
Amber Jones had a date with death and no intention of being stood up.
She’d waited for this night three long months. Her blood ran cold at the
thought of failure and burned with the need for success, the rush of the two
at-odds feelings flowed through her veins until it raised gooseflesh on her
arms. A shiver ran down her spine causing her to shake unexpectedly and
she wrapped her arms around herself for comfort.
“Where are you, Ryan?” she whispered into the empty room. “Let’s get this
over with.” She looked out the window of the small two-story cottage into
the vast city of dead.
The cemetery in Brooklyn, New York was the second largest in the world.
It was a city within the city. A city of ghosts. With everything
that had happened, that was happening, being surrounded by a thousand ghosts
who could see and hear her was the least of her concerns. Living as a
caretaker-in-training wasn’t a problem. Pretending to be married to Ryan
Spencer and lying to the soon-to-retire caretakers, Nancy and Fred, was more
troubling.
The dead were more than a comfort to her. Her power saw them as a source
of energy. She belonged, not exactly with them, but
somehow to them. And they, to her. Tonight, she
would go out and meet the man who truly ran the city of dead; Cole Sullivan,
the Keeper of the Dead. A sort of sheriff or governor over the souls who,
for various reasons, had not moved on. A powerful man who appeared not
much older than her. She guessed his age at perhaps nineteen or twenty,
the same as Ryan.
Releasing her arms she moved from the window. Plopping down on the unmade
bed she drew her legs beneath her. Glancing at the door she wondered if
Ryan was still upset with her. And then wondered why it bothered her so
much. It was two hours ago they’d had the worst fight since their arrival
at the cottage. Undercover as fake newlyweds, they’d lied to Fred and
Nancy, the kind people training them as caretakers, manipulated ghosts to gain
the attention of the Keeper and still hadn’t gained the information they needed
to stop her father and save the women and children still imprisoned in the
cultish community she and Ryan had escaped a few months ago. Her heart
clenched in a hiccup of discouragement. Nothing was going the way she
thought. She’d save no one. She’d abused her power. She lied
to people she respected and cared about. And now, she’d fought with Ryan
and somehow his anger felt like the worst of all that had happened so
far. She was losing control, failing the mission and having feelings
for someone she swore she’d never fall for. Thoughts of delaying the
mission until she felt more in control flirted with potential excuses she knew
were cowardly.
Amber glanced at the clock for the third time in thirty minutes.
She was to meet Cole at midnight. Midnight. That was Cole's style;
theatrical. For a dead guy he was full of a lot of energy, and
mischief. She smiled as she thought about how he’d warmed up to her when
he realized he could actually feel her touching him. He’d become all
charm and humor then and she had to admit that she was a little taken with
him. But, for all of his good looks and smooth-talking there was never
any question that he was out for something. He’d been around a long time
and had seen a lot of girls and women come and go, both dead and alive, so she
didn’t pretend he thought she was something extraordinary outside of that one
little ability; touch.
And, therein lied the trouble with Ryan. Amber closed her eyes, recalling
their argument with vivid dejection.
“No touching!” she’d told him, keeping her back to him so she didn’t have to
look into those dark blue eyes and convince him that she meant it. The
longer they pretended to be husband and wife in order to stay at the cemetery
caretaker home, the more difficult things got between them. The no
touching rule was for the self-preservation of her virtue. The fact that
she knew it was as frustrating for him as it was for her to fight the
attraction that had grown between them was a bonus she considered a gift from
fate. If she had to suffer through it, she was glad to know he did too.
“Lover boy doing a little hands-on research there, sis?” Ivy Jones, Amber’s
sister, recalled her to their phone conversation. “How are things going
on that front?”
“Same as always,” Amber replied. Did Ivy think she’d be able to talk
about it with Ryan lying next to her? Part of her wanted to share with
her sister the growing attraction she felt for the nineteen-year-old Romeo, and
part of her was worried that if she admitted it out loud it would make it more
real somehow and she’d have to face it even to herself. She’d worked for
months to keep all of that behind a wall she’d built high enough to protect her
heart and keep her focused on the mission at hand. Letting it all fall
away for a little warmth, comfort and snuggling wasn’t going to happen this
late in the game. They were so close to completing the task that would allow
them to go back to Montana where her father, Zachariah, kept his community a
prison to so many women and children. Amber’s struggle with her newfound
power and the struggle with her hormones were wearing on her and she longed to
have Ivy to confide in. Soon they would all be back together. She
just needed to hold out a little longer.
There was a long pause on the other end of the phone. People say that
twins can often feel what the other is going through and she and Ivy were a
part of triplets, but she couldn’t feel what her sisters felt, or just know what
they were going through because of some genetic bond. Sometimes she
wished she could because she’d love for Ivy to know that she was struggling and
needed support. And of course, she’d also love to know what her sister
Elizabeth was up to, plotting with their murderous father. Elizabeth had
been taken by their father when she was a baby and raised in the
community. But, Ivy, they were two peas in a pod. They grew up
together, trained together, fought together, saved each other and were best
friends. So, when the long pause ended in a sigh, Amber wasn’t surprised.
“That bad huh?” Ivy whispered like she was afraid Ryan might be able to hear
their conversation.
“You have no idea.” Amber smiled then because it felt good to have that
connection even hundreds of miles away. It was that connection that kept
her on this mission. Family. She wanted to help Ivy who, for
whatever reason of her own, wanted to save Elizabeth. Amber was fine with
letting Elizabeth reap what she’d sewn.
“Please,” Ivy sighed in mock exasperation, “I had to literally give a piece of
my soul to save Gabe. I know feelings make you do crazy things.”
“Touché.” Amber smiled recalling the sacrifice her sister made for the man she
loves.
Amber felt the mattress dip and bounce as Ryan got out of
bed. She thought to ask him to bring her another bottle of water, but
didn’t want to turn around and look at him with his shirt off. That was
just asking far too much of her hormones this morning. He was supposed to
wear a shirt with this pajama bottoms, but last night he’d been pushing her,
tempting her, and so he claimed to be too hot for the shirt.
“It’s winter in Brooklyn,” she’d argued. He just smiled and took
off the shirt happy to show her his well-defined six-pack and broad shoulders.
Bastard.
“Any progress last night?” Ivy moved the conversation back to the mission and
Amber was grateful.
“Well, we finally got the Keeper of the Dead here to admit there is a way to
remove Zachariah’s power from the river of death and he agreed to give us the
spell tonight.” Amber stopped. There was a lot more to it than just that,
but Ivy had her own problems and there was nothing her sister could do to help
her.
“What are you not telling me?” Ivy guessed.
Amber wondered if she annoyed Ivy when she did that crap to her. She
figured she did and shrugged away the annoyance that always accompanied being
found out when you really wanted something kept secret. She glanced
around the room then to make sure Ryan wasn’t there. The light under the
bathroom door was on and the water turned on to the shower so she was safe from
his constant curiosity. Guilt trickled like the water, showering her with
anxiety. Ryan would never be okay with what she’d promised the Keeper, so
she decided it would be best not to say anything.
“It’s nothing really.” Amber tried to think of a way to tell Ivy what she’d
agreed to in order to get the spell, but no matter how she put it, it just
sounded gross and a little scary. “The Keeper has been a little…” Amber knew it
was better to just get it all out of the way, like pulling a band-aid fast so
it’s all over with at once. “…lonely. He’s not allowed to, well,
fraternize with the other spirits and he’s been around for a very long time,
which is, of course, why we came to him.”
“Amber?”
“He just wants me to kiss him.” Amber let out a sigh. There, it was said and
over.
“What?!” Ivy managed to squeal and sound flabbergasted all at the same
time. All with one word. “Why would a ghost need a mortal girl to
kiss him? Is this some kind of trick? Have you talked to Patricia about
this?” Patricia was also a ghost, but she was family.
“You know Patricia isn’t comfortable coming to a cemetery where the ghosts
treat her like a sideshow freak. Most ghosts can’t travel like Patricia
does and some ghosts find that interesting, but some are angry-jealous.”
“Patricia is tough and you know it. And Cole made it clear she’s to be
welcome there. You said so yourself. She’d want to know what’s
going on and determine for herself if Cole is up to some trick.” Ivy said.
“I don’t see how it can be a trick. It’s just a kiss. He’s flirty
and likes to get under people’s skin is all. It’s a game. Don’t
worry though. I’ll get the spell before I pay up. He’s already been told that.”
Amber glanced again at the bathroom door making sure Ryan was still
occupied. “I didn’t tell Patricia. She hates coming here. The other
ghosts are very curious about her ability to move from graveyard to graveyard
and she hates having to try and explain it to them. There are a lot of spirits
here, Ivy. It’s very frustrating for her to have so many of them follow
her around with questions. I try not to call her to me.”
Patricia had given her life, her energy, to help Ivy save her. Now
Patricia was a ghost. And she was just as protective in death as she ever
was in life. Amber owed her life to Patricia, her mother’s cousin who had
watched them be born, watched their father murder their mother and whisked them
away to safety. Together with John and Helena, her adoptive parents, she
and Ivy had a pretty good life. Not a normal one, but one filled with
love and family.
There was something about how Patricia died giving her life force to her that
allowed Patricia’s spirit to follow her. Protect her in ways others could
not. Sometimes, if Patricia had a lot of energy, she could come to Amber
anywhere for very brief amounts of time. Usually though, they had to be
in a graveyard in order to sustain any long conversations. The dead fed
Amber’s power and being with them fueled her energy, made her strong.
“I think Patricia would be okay with you calling her there for this one
thing. Before I’d go kissing some dead guy I’d make sure there were no
hidden consequences to it first.” Ivy told her. “Besides, it’s just
gross.” Then she paused for just a moment and added, “Unless he’s a really hot
dead guy. Is he cute?”
“He’s Irish, has an accent and fought for a living. They murdered him
when he wouldn’t take a bribe.” Amber shared the story that Cole Trask had
given her. “He’s maybe twenty-one, but he says that’s considered a man back in
those days. People didn’t live very long back then I guess.”
“But is he cute?” Ivy asked again.
Thinking about Cole she glanced back at the bathroom door. The shower had
shut off, but she could hear Ryan moving around, getting ready for the
day. She turned back around and whispered into the phone.
“It’s safe to say he’s really cute, emphasis on the really,” she laughed
softly.
“So what you’re saying is that you don’t really mind taking one for the team,
right?” Ivy’s humor traveled down the phone line and Amber smiled. She could
imagine her sister wriggling her eyebrows at her. “Still, Amber,”
Ivy’s tone changed to something more serious, “A ghost has valuable information
and all it costs you is a kiss? No offence, but a kiss seems a pretty small
price to pay.”
“Uh, yeah, no offense taken,” Amber smiled, but then grew serious as
well. “The thing is, this guy has been around a very long time.
Practically since the graveyard was put there. And, well, ghosts, as a
rule, can’t feel physical pain. Or, pleasure. But it seems that I’m an
exception to that rule for some reason. Probably has something to do with
my ability.
“He’s young, cute and hasn’t touched a woman since the 1800’s?” Ivy’s humor was
back, “Okay, I can see the value of the kiss now. I’m amazed you got away
with just a kiss.” She actually giggled at that and Amber missed her at that
moment so much she felt tears threaten.
“I promise you that my negotiating skills were thoroughly tested,” Amber told
her.
Ivy laughed out loud then. “Yeah, sound like some other skills are about to be
tested too.”
“I have a feeling he’s been thinking about this a very long time. I’m sure
he’ll want me to remember that kiss.” Amber laughed.
“Talking about me again?” the masculine voice sent a jolt down Amber’s back and
she turned to see Ryan standing there in nothing but a towel, wrapped securely
around his waist, but it was askew and one side dipped down farther than the
other, threatening to change the parameters of their relationship via gravity.
Warmth spread from bottom to top and Amber was certain her cheeks were beet red
what really irritated her. The day was not starting off well for her and
it wasn’t ending any time soon. She frowned at Ryan.
“No. Not you. Someone I’d actually like to kiss.” She hadn’t meant it to sound
so harsh and knew it was overkill when his expression didn’t change to anger or
humor, but to hurt.
It was on his face and then gone in a heartbeat. She might have missed it
altogether if she hadn’t grown so attune to him, his expressions, his
moods. Sometimes they didn’t even have to talk, they just knew what came
next whether it was to go for a walk, call home, go to bed. He had become
her friend and though he irritated her with all the silly flirting she valued
him. She didn’t want to hurt him. She just wanted him to give it a
rest. She was nervous already with everything that was going on tonight.
“Listen,” Ivy said bringing her attention back to the call. “Why don’t I
let you go deal with whatever you need to deal with. But, call me if
things go sideways. Promise?”
“I promise.” Amber answered. She longed for Ivy to talk a little longer, at
least until the awkward tension died down in the room.
“Oh and Amber?” Ivy added.
“Yeah?”
“Call me if it’s super fantastic too, okay?” Ivy’s tone was full of humor and
then just hung up leaving Amber to whatever drama might ensue.
Despite the fact that she had set the phone down and now had to face Ryan,
talking to her sister had cheered her up. She turned around to apologize
again for her tone but Ryan was gone. The bathroom door was closed and
she figured he was changing in there. That stung. For nearly a
month now he had been changing in their room, threatening her with his nudity
until she’s just walk out. It was endearing in a way that was hard for
her describe. She glanced at the closed door again, sad that things had
changed and hoping it was something she could fix with an apology and a little
flirting.
Her phone buzzed, vibrating again, but this time it wasn’t a ringtone, it was
the alarm. There were duties to perform in the cemetery that had nothing
to do with her ability and everything to do with earning a living. She
hit the button to turn it off and fell back on the bed, borrowing time.
The door opened and Ryan walked out dressed in black jeans and a white polo
that had the cemetery name on it and identified him as a groundskeeper.
He sat on the bottom edge of the bed furthest from her to put on his
socks. The silence was just too much for her.
“I didn’t mean to sound so cranky,” she said hoping he would at least say
something.
“You’re cranky every morning, Amber,” he said, but she couldn’t get a read on
his mood with his back to her. “It’s usually cute.”
“But, not this morning?” she asked cautiously.
He stood up, paused a moment as though he wasn’t sure he wanted to look at her,
or perhaps he was just gathering his thoughts, she wasn’t sure. Then he
turned toward her. The expression wasn’t anger or even hurt. She
wasn’t exactly sure what it was, but it made butterflies take flight in the pit
of her stomach. He stared at her in a way that she thought he was either
trying telepathy, which was silly of course, or he was debating his words,
which was likely.
“Who are you kissing, Amber?” he asked with as little emotion as she’d ever
heard him express. “We go everywhere together. I know everyone you know
here. Everyone thinks we’re married. If some guy hit on you when he
thinks we’re married he’s a jerk. And, on principle, I should knock his teeth
out.”
There it was; anger. She was so glad he’d stopped looking at her like he
could see into her soul and went for something she knew how to deal with.
He was just mad that someone he thought was a friend might betray him.
This was going to be easy to fix. Relief washed over her and she smiled
at him, turning onto her side and patting the bed next to her. He walked
over and sat beside her, brooding, which told her he’d given up anger and now
just needed his ego salved.
“It’s no one you’ve met. Not in person anyway. It’s Cole.” She smiled,
happy to explain away the reason for his unhappiness.
“Cole?” his voice cracked under the strain of the shock. “Cole the ghost?”
“Cole, the Keeper of the Dead who has been helping us.” She corrected.
“Helping us?” Ryan faked a laugh. “He’s been leading us on for nearly six
months, Amber. He gives us just enough information to keep you interested, but
nothing that helps in any real way. Now he wants you to kiss him? What
the hell for?!” The laugh was definitely fake Amber realized. We were
back to anger.
“He’s given his word that tonight he will give us the information
about how to stop Zachariah from tapping into the river of death and harming
anyone with his power. We’ll get what we’ve come for.” Amber sat up and
leaned toward Ryan, placing her hand on top of his to reassure him. He
looked down at their hands for a moment and it caused her to look, too.
Her hands were rougher now with all the physical labor she was doing outside,
but it was still softer than his, and not as dark, and nowhere near as
big. It was warm and strong and there was something about touching his
skin that made her thumb caress run up and down his hand and wrist without her
even thinking about it.
“I
don’t like it, Amber.” He said and her head snapped up at the barely checked
rage in his voice. Surprise filled her as she looked into his eyes that
matched the sound of his voice. “I don’t like him.”
“Why?” It was all she could think. Seeing him like this was new and she
wasn’t exactly sure how to deal with it. She realized she didn’t feel
threatened physically. She wasn’t afraid of him.
“Because he’s a ghost and I can’t knock his teeth out when he kisses you.”
Buy Links for Adam Frankenstein: Search for a Soul:
(Currently part of Kindle
Unlimited)
Buy Links for The Faith Healer’s Daughters
Trilogy:
Sheila English MEGA Blog Prize
The prize includes:
Signed print copy of Adam Frankenstein: A Collection of Short Stories
Signed print copy of Adam Frankenstein: Search for a Soul
Signed print copy of Adam Frankenstein: Dog Fight comic
Ebook copy of The Faith Healer's Daughters Trilogy Box Set
Gothic pin
Skull bracelet
Steampunk necklace
a Rafflecopter giveaway
So why do we open our home and hearts? Well...it turns out that's a pretty short story after all. Back in my early twenties I was a single mom on a very limited budget. The year I turned 24, I held 11 different jobs trying to make ends meet (some at the same time). My car was side-swiped and totaled. Several times I took my two children to the night job I had cleaning offices. There was a short time-when the car wouldn't start and I pulled them in a wagon from my apartment to the job (more than three miles each way and yeah, it was dark). Several times my pantry was empty except for the food my children needed to eat.
