Carolyn Wren’s Empathy

Carolyn Wren – Empathy (Emotional Chains Book 1)

Release Date – March 23rd 2015

Bio

carolyn1Carolyn Wren is the award winning author of the romantic suspense series, The Protectors.

Having spent her working life as a book-keeper and finance officer for international companies, she discovered a passion for fiction writing in 2009. Assuming it was some sort of mid-life crisis, she kept it a secret for six months. In an impulsive move, she entered The Emerald, a prestigious writing contest for unpublished authors run by the Romance Writers of Australia. Much to her utter shock, she won it. This was followed shortly after by a finalist placing in the unpublished division of the International Daphne Du Maurier Awards for Excellence in Mystery/Suspense.

After braving a submission letter to Secret Cravings Publishing, her debut published work Diplomat’s Daughter (Protectors Book 1) won the RWA ‘Ella’ award for novella of the year.

To date, The Protectors series has received four award nominations, resulting in two trophies.

Carolyn’s other works include a very naughty ghost erotic novella Ghosts of Grace Cottage that she wrote during a stormy winter day. Her new series, the murder mystery urban fantasy Emotional Chains is her latest writing obsession.

When not in front of the computer, you’ll find Carolyn glued to the TV. She loves classic 1960s spy dramas, and is a self-confessed sci-fi geek who owns every single Star Trek, Dr Who, and Buffy dvd ever made.

She lives in the hills of Western Australia with a husband she adores, and a varied assortment of native wildlife.

www.carolynwren.com

www. carolynwrenauthor.wordpress.com

www.facebook.com/carolynwrenauthor

https://twitter.com/carolyn_wren

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What if you could sense the emotions of everyone around you?

What if you fell in love with someone you’d never even met?

Blurb

Oliver Lord belongs to one of three special families, empaths who feel emotions as a physical sense. Quiet and reserved, and accustomed to keeping his abilities hidden, Oliver is drawn inexorably to a woman he’s never met. The woman who made his brother’s last year of life so happy.

When Zoe Daniels, talented sculptor, loses her fiancé before their wedding, she can’t imagine finding love again, until she meets Jasper’s unknown brother, a man so different, yet so achingly familiar to the man she adored. What is Oliver’s secret, and why is he so determined to keep her at arm’s length?

A violent kidnapping and murder forces the empaths from the shadows to seek justice for one of their own. Oliver turns to Zoe, needing her comfort and love. Can she accept him for who he is?

Oliver and two powerful empathic friends need to track down the kidnappers before they strike again, but how do you solve a murder, when your only clue is emotion?

Excerpts

Zoe sat with her back to the tree as she always did, knees drawn up. Thin cords dangled from her ears, attached to the smart phone at her hip. Her feet tapped out a rhythm to a tune Oliver couldn’t hear. She put down the book in her hands and tilted her head to the dappled sunlight peeking through the branches. A smile lit her face as the beams played like mischievous children on her closed eyelids. The old forest was lush and vibrant, a calm oasis of another age. Jasper had always loved spending time here, lost in the peace and quiet. No doubt he’d brought Zoe here. That she’d feel close to him in this isolated place they’d shared was understandable.

Oliver shut his eyes and reached out to read her. If he looked deep inside, he could find the essence of the brother he missed so much. He tried not to. The first time it had seemed an intrusion, but sometimes he couldn’t help himself. She was warmth and goodness. Her calm was a soothing balm to his nerves and a link to a beloved lost sibling. He indulged himself and took a tiny moment. She’ll never know.

“Why don’t you come out from behind that tree?”

Oliver’s eyes flew open at the sound of her voice. He’d not planned on being seen, and normally when he chose that option, he wasn’t. It was a simple, foolproof empathic trick, one he’d been able to do since childhood. Remaining silent and unmoving, he projected a low level of emotion in her direction. Disinterest. Indifference. Boredom. Every gentle empathic nudge was designed to increase her need to walk away and not look back.

She continued to talk as she stood. Brushing leaves from her trousers, she walked toward him with determination in her blue eyes. “If you keep lurking, it just looks suspicious.”

The moment their gazes met, he caught a flare of something. Surprise? Confusion? Oliver regained his composure. “I’m sorry if I scared you. I was enjoying the sunshine. You looked as if you were deep in thought. I didn’t want to disturb your privacy.”

“What about all the other times? Were you concerned about my privacy then, too?”

She’d noticed him before? Oliver’s much vaulted confidence of his own abilities took a distinct dive. “I’m sorry. It’s a pleasant spot, somewhere I enjoy and find calming.” Only because you’re here. “I won’t intrude on your peace any longer.”

“Do I know you?” She tilted her head to one side. The filtered sun caught the blonde strands of her short feathered haircut, making them shine.

“No.”

“Do you know who I am?”

“No.”

“May I ask you another question?”

Oliver frowned. “Of course?”

“Why are you lying to me? And who were you to Jasper?”

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Excerpt 2

She sighed and leaned forward. “I’m about to tell you something. I would appreciate it if you’d listen with an open mind, because it’s going to shock you.”

Mike mirrored her position, leaning his elbows on the table. “Very little shocks me these days, Miss Baron.”

“I prefer Meredith, or Merri.”

He inclined his head in acknowledgement. “If you have information on this case, I need to hear it.”

She fiddled with the spoon from her chocolate. The first non-confident move he’d seen her make. “I think Freddy may have been killed because of abilities he had.”

“Abilities?”

“Freddy was empathic. He could feel emotions as a physical sense.”

Mike sagged, fighting a keen sense of disappointment and a growing anger. He thought they were on to something, but no. She was one of those loopy new-age nut jobs—a very beautiful new-age nut job.

“You don’t believe me.”

Mike shoved his coffee cup aside. “No, I don’t believe you, and if you’ve finished wasting my time, I have real work to do.”

“Wait,” she said as he stood.

“I’m a busy man, Miss Baron.”

“What happened in the alley?”

Mike hesitated with his palms flat on the table. “Nothing.”

“Liar. You had a panic attack.”

“Fine. I had a panic attack. I work ninety hours a week on a good week. I don’t eat or sleep properly, and I see a lot of terrible things. Sometimes the stress gets to me, okay?”

“I did it.”

“Bull dust.”

“This would be so much easier if you just believed me, but I see I’m going to have to prove it.”

“Prove what?” A rush of pure erotic heat raced through Mike’s body and headed straight between his legs. He sat down with a thud as those same limbs turned into wet noodles.

She leaned further across the table. “It’s funny, isn’t it, how we accept some emotions as a normal part of our daily life? Fear, pain, worry, anger, anxiety, guilt? We put them down as a standard occurrence caused by traffic jams, a suspicious person in our peripheral vision, a horrendous story on the evening news. You know what I mean, all sorts of things. But, sexual excitement? Desire? Lust? Arousal? Those we can’t explain away quite so easily, can we, detective?”

Her voice was a husky edged blade running over his skin. Heat. His whole body was a mass of pulsing aroused heat. Mike fought the almost uncontrollable urge to jerk his hips forward and sink into soft firm flesh. I’m having sex. Jesus, I feel like I’m having sex. All of the sensations were there. A series of highly carnal scenarios ran though his mind like a movie. Supple limbs wrapping around his, warm silky skin rubbing against him, moist lips panting with hot breath, fanning his face. His erection pressed against his zipper, and even that was unreasonably erotic. Mike was lost in a sensual storm, held captive by luminous blue eyes. The pressure built in his lower back, culminating in a blast of sensation, a tightening of his groin. Christ, I’m going to come.

Meredith broke eye contact, relaxed back in her chair, and picked up her hot chocolate.

Mikes impending orgasm, and all the associated sensations, vanished. He slumped against the table, heaving in great lungful’s of air. “Jesus Christ!”

“Nope. Just me.”

He gaped at her, his fingers curled into claws against the solid wood, and heart beating in double time. “What are you?”

The look she gave him was a mixture of exasperation and annoyance. “I’m not a what. I’m an empath. What do you say? Are you willing to listen to me now?”

“Yes,” he said, through a clenched jaw.

“Good.” She slid a gilt edged business card toward him, before standing and hitching a leather bag on her shoulder. “My place at eight tonight, address is on the card. Be prepared to listen. Oh, and Stone, drink your coffee. You look like you need it.”

 

Buy Links

Amazon – http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00U827MJW

ARE – https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-empathy-1756694-149.html

Barnes and Noble – http://m.barnesandnoble.com/w/empathy-carolyn-wren/1121325018?ean=2940151227117

SCP – http://store.secretcravingspublishing.com/index.php?main_page=book_info&cPath=4&products_id=1052

 

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Review: Misplaced by Lee Murray

MisplacedTourBanner

My Review:

This story is about a woman who disappears on her trip to the store to buy milk. It was sad seeing what the boy went through but also angering to know the husband had a mistress and their relationship only grew stronger with his wife’s disappearance. I ignored them and followed the boy’s story. The emotions were real and so was his disillusionment. His relationship with his true frineds was a crutch for him especially Skye who he found a safe haven in a way with her. This story was engaging and it felt genuine.

stars

mxBlurb:

Dream cars have no registration plate.

One evening, just before tea, Adam’s mum pops out for the milk and doesn’t come back, launching a frantic nationwide search. After weeks with no leads, the television crews drift away, the police start asking hairy questions, and Adam’s dad starts seeing someone else. Adam’s life is falling apart. But perhaps it was already unravelling and Adam just hadn’t seen the signs? He’s spending so much time in the counsellor’s office, he’s beginning to think he’s a head-case. Then he meets Skye, who it seems has misplaced a parent too, and things start to look up. That is, until a body is found…

Purchase from Amazon

The Seacrest by Aaron Paul Lazar

200About the Author

Aaron Paul Lazar writes to soothe his soul. An award-winning, bestselling Kindle author of three addictive mystery series, writing books, and a new love story, Aaron enjoys the Genesee Valley countryside in upstate New York, where his characters embrace life, play with their dogs and grandkids, grow sumptuous gardens, and chase bad guys. Visit his website at http://www.lazarbooks.com and watch for his upcoming releases THE SEACREST (2013), SANCTUARY (2014), and VIRTUOSO (2014).

CONNECT/ONLINE LINKS:

Website http://www.lazarbooks.com
Blog1 http://www.aaronlazar.blogspot.com
Blog2 http://www.murderby4.blogspot.com
Facebook1 https://www.facebook.com/AaronPaulLazarTwitter (personal page)
Facebook2 https://www.facebook.com/aplazar2 (author page)
Goodreads http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/629566.Aaron_Paul_Lazar
Google Plus: https://plus.google.com/106903480874581085678/posts
Author’s Den: http://www.authorsden.com/aaronplazar1

[hr]

200About the Book

They say it’s better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.

Finn McGraw disagrees.

He was just seventeen when he had a torrid summer affair with the girl who stole his heart—and then inexplicably turned on him. Finn may have moved on with his life, but he’s never forgotten
her.

Now, ten years later, he’s got more than his lost love to worry about. A horrific accident turns his life upside down, resurrecting the ghosts of his long-dead family and taking the lives of the few people he has left.

Finn always believed his estranged brother was responsible for the fire that killed their family—but an unexpected inheritance with a mystery attached throws everything he knows into doubt.

And on top of that, the beguiling daughter of his wealthy employer has secrets of her own. But the
closer he gets, the harder she pushes him away.

The Seacrest is a story of intrigue and betrayal, of secrets and second chances—and above all, of a love that never dies.

Buy Links:

Amazon ASIN: B00G1TDBRI
Smashwords ISBN: 9781301029730
Amazon Print: ISBN-13: 978-1493548675 ; ISBN-10: 1493548670 (coming soon)
Amazon Link: http://amzn.to/16pjh4i
Smashwords Link: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/369357
Goodreads: http://bit.ly/17dYYY8

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Image 1

I think I deserved this room, back in 2011. Now it’s been a few years, and my room has just been changed over to a “romantic” baby room for daughter number three, who’s coming home soon to raise her almost-born baby as a single mom. But here’s a fun story about how this came to be. Hope you enjoy it!

***

After a year of giving up my newly renovated antique house to my dear daughter, beloved-but-unemployed son-in-law, grandkids, pregnant mother cat, one hormonally challenged male dog, and a still-chewing everything puppy…  (while being unemployed myself during much of that time..)

After looking the other way when antiques were scratched, lamp cords were chewed off, couch skirts were peed on, satin fabric was clawed apart, our new Oriental rug was destroyed…

After having to search for a single fork in a sink full of dishes almost every day (“We’ll do them in the morning, Dad!”), dealing with a sore back from bending over a thousand times a day to pick up casually tossed cheese stick wrappers and toys, and wondering if I’d ever get into the laundry room to do laundry for my wife and me…

After all that – I think I deserve this new room of mine.

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Okay, those of you who know me realize I’m exaggerating, because I adore my daughter, grandchildren, and animals. Since they moved out to their own place just a few miles down the road a month ago, I’ve been filled with conflicting with feelings of terrible longings for their company… mixed with blessed relief. I call them constantly, with any little excuse. And I ache to see the kids every second of every day.

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But there is a bright side to all this, and it’s the reclaiming of our home. It’s clean. Oh, is it clean. Organized. Tidy. Polished. Shiny. Dust-free.

This is the 200th anniversary of our 1811 house, and in the spirit of giving ourselves a little reward, I decided to redo the boys’ bedroom. We gave the kids all the furniture, anyway, so it made sense to change things around a bit.

I’ve never had a writing room. I’ve never had a home office. I never even had a corner of a room that could be mine, where I could write in quiet and focus on getting my characters into trouble, and finagle the plot so they could be saved again. I always had to clamp headphones over my ears to drown out the television, or get up at 4 AM to find some quiet time to write.

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My usual typical writing spot is my comfy leather chair in our bedroom. It’s too close to the TV, though, and my wife enjoys have it on all the time. But I like to be with her, so I hang out in the bedroom in the evenings. But that means I’m always tuning out whatever sit-com blasts from the darn thing. 

Sometimes, for an hour or so in the freezing cold dark winter mornings, I sit in the living room downstairs while the fire takes hold in the woodstove. But I’m often distracted by the need to let the dogs in and out, clean the cat pan, put a load in the washer or dryer, make my lunch for work, take out something to defrost for dinner, load up the wood rack by the woodstove, etc. You get my drift, all the usual pre-work morning stuff. So unless I got up, again, at 4 or 5 AM, I don’t get much time to focus on writing.

Okay, so all this is leading up to me trying not to feel guilty for spending too much money on what I’m calling my “zen* room”. It’s a romantic writing, reading, thinking, quiet room. I thought of my wife when I designed it, and have also referred to it as her “sitting room”, because I made it kinda girly-pretty and put her Keurig coffee maker in there.

I know, I know. You’d expect a guy to want a MAN cave, right? Something with lots of leather, dark wood, heavy curtains, beer posters, big screen TV, sports trophies, and the like. Well, I have something sort of like that in our living room already, with dark antiques and brown leather couch and club chair. Ahem. Minus the beer posters and sports trophies.

But this time I departed from that model. I guess I figured I wouldn’t feel so guilty for spending the money if I designed it with my wife in mind.

So in spite of the fact that it’s kind of a feminine room, I must state that I consider myself a regular guy in some aspects. I love to do handyman projects around the house, can’t wait to play with the snowblower and lawn tractor, adore chopping down acres of brush and clearing land, and have a list a mile long of outdoor brick-laying type projects I can’t wait to start.

But I’m also a guy who loves some not-so-typical things. I’m a great deal like my character, Gus LeGarde, who is frequently referred to as a Renaissance man. Gus and I love antiques. We love Chopin. We love to cook. We love French Impressionist art. We love nature. We love to hike. And, we love to cross-country ski.

So, that was my lame attempt to prove to you that I really am a semi-regular guy in spite of how pretty this room is. Ha.

What inspired this? My hairdresser.

Yeah, really. The lady who cuts my hair was running late last month. She offered to let me sit in her new little new-age-comfy room with the water fountain and a footbath. It was so darned comfortable I almost fell asleep several times, and I realized that I wanted one, too!

So, let me show you what I did.

I asked my wife what color walls she wanted, and she chose a pale orange sherbet color. On an impulse, I checked out a Ruby Gordon’s annual half off sale, and found a cream-colored leather loveseat and comfy chair/ottoman in the clearance section. This sort of set the tone for the rest of the room, which really is quite romantic. (And DANG, is it relaxing and comfortable…)

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I ordered this trickling wall mounted water fountain. Still waiting for a pump to be sent that isn’t LOUDER than the trickling water sound, but it’s enroute, so they say. 

I found turquoise pillows and a throw at Pier One, a vase thingie that holds apple blossoms, or whatever fake things my wife my wants to stick in them during the winter, and then I went nuts and ordered a glass lamp to match the turquoise color that had ended up being so prevalent in the room. 

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I haunted my favorite antique stores to find a perfect – I mean made for this room – antique lamp with the exact same colors that we’d already chosen.

Next, I ordered a cherry wall cabinet to store some of my Young Living Essential Oils, an Aria oil diffuser to set the scene, a foot bath and all the good smelling stuff that goes with it, and some gorgeous photos from a wonderful photographer friend. 

Here are a few images that will eventually be hanging over the loveseat and chair, in large format.

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See how they miraculously match the room colors? It’s like it was meant to be.

It’s almost all put together. I’m waiting for the ottoman, so I can put up my feet while I write. The essential oil diffuser arrived yesterday, and I set it up this morning. My wife wanted curtains, so I got those last weekend – sheer, romantic type curtains. (I won’t dwell on the fact that my cat, one of the seven kittens my daughter’s cat had last year, keeps climbing up them and messing them up.) I’m waiting for the prints to frame and hang. And then, I’ll be ready to write in style. Wonder if my characters will have any more romance in the next few books? I do feel some love scenes coming on…

Here are a few shots of my writing room – a work in process

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The “Aria” my new Young Living oil diffuser that also has soothing natural sounds and beautiful colors within its clear glass globe. Highly recommended! (and you’ll know why when you read Essentially Yours, my fifteenth book scheduled for release early in 2012.)

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One corner of the room that’s pretty much “done.” This is where my wife sits when she joins me and reads on her Kindle.

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And here’s where I sit, minus the wall art that’s coming. Like I said, pretty darned comfy.

And so, as the project comes to a close, it’s just in time for the next adventure of either Gus LeGarde, Sam Moore, or Marcella Hollister. Haven’t decided what’s next yet, but I’m itching to start something new.

And by the way – Happy Valentines Day! 

Guys: Do something extra special for your sweetheart today. Maybe buy her a copy of my new love story, The Seacrest. You’ll brighten up her day, and you’ll feel all mushy inside. Who knows? It might inspire you. Maybe you’ll end up with a girl-cave all your own.

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Aaron Paul Lazar

http://www.lazarbooks.com

*Zen – a teaching that contemplation of one’s essential nature to the exclusion of all else is the only way of achieving pure enlightenment.