SOUL MATE TREE SERIES
Heaven is hell without her.
An ancient legend spanning eras, continents, and worlds.
To some, it’s nothing more than a dream.
To others, a pretty fairy tale handed down through the generations.
For those in critical need of their own happy ending, a gift.
THE LEGEND OF THE SOUL MATE TREE
I am old, I am ancient, my purpose is clear
To give those who are needy a treasure so dear.
They who come to my roots, touch my bark, stroke my leaves
Find the soul of their lives if they but believe.
When I call and you listen, your prize will be great
If your heart remains open and you don’t hesitate.
Do you yearn? Be you lonely? Is your time yet at hand?
Reach for me and I’ll give to you. I’m yours to command.
For your trust, for your faith, keep my secrets untold
And I’ll gift you forever, to have and to hold.
10 Reasons Why I Love The Paranormal by L.D. Rose
Hi there! I’m Linda (writing as L.D. Rose), doctor by day and author of dark PNR/UF by night. Since I’m a big fan of everything dark, sexy, and creepy, I figured I’d share my top 10 reasons why I love the paranormal.
- I was accused of being a vampire in the first grade.
I went to an all-girls Catholic school for kindergarten and first grade (my mother yanked me out before second grade for acting out—oops!). My classmates already thought I was weird since I spoke broken English (my first language was Portuguese and I didn’t go to preschool; I learned English from Sesame Street!). All of us kids were playing a game of tag at recess and I tripped on a rock and sliced my finger open. I immediately put my hand in my mouth to suck the blood away (c’mon, didn’t you do that when you were a kid?!). The girls freaked out and ran away from me, screaming “vampire.” I guess it didn’t help that I had a widow’s peak, dark hair and pale skin. I had no idea what a vampire was, but my feelings were hurt and I cried.
This was obviously quite traumatic since the concept of a vampire invaded my brain and I became obsessed with learning (and writing) about them!
- I grew up in a haunted house.
My family was poor growing up and we bounced from apartment to apartment when I was a toddler. My parents bought a house when I was about five, both of them incredibly excited to have a home.
Too bad it was haunted, haha!
My parents’ little Cape was over a hundred years old and two ghosts apparently haunted the premises (an eight year old boy and an elderly woman who died in the upstairs bathroom; later, my deceased German Shepard made a few ghostly appearances too). I never actually saw them, but their roaming footsteps, cold patches, whispers, and little games such as dropping the blinds, turning off the radio, and the occasional “push” made their presences unmistakably clear. I have no doubt there’s a ghostly world among us, no matter how much my logical doctor brain wants to argue it.
- My first memorable books were horror stories.
Thanks to my vampire accusation, I began to read horror stories—a lot of them! My favorite books as a kid were the SCARY STORIES TO TELL IN THE DARK series by Alvin Schwartz. I couldn’t stop staring at the creepy images and rereading the melodious yet disturbing passages. I used to sing THE HEARSE SONG constantly while jumping rope outside like a freaky little kid (THE HEARSE SONG also makes an appearance in BLACK BULLET). As I grew older, I transitioned to R.L. Stine, Clive Barker, and Stephen King, then it was all downhill from there.
See, kids? Be careful what you call your classmates!
- Naturally, my favorite movies were horror movies.
Gremlins. Ghostbusters. Poltergeist. The Exorcist. Friday the 13th. Nightmare on Elm Street. Halloween. Jaws. The Shining. Silence of the Lambs. CLASSICS! Although the horror movie industry has sorely disappointed me as an adult (although THE CONJURING movies were actually pretty good), these were my most memorable films. My parents would let me watch a few of the more “benign” ones, but I usually snuck out of my room in the middle of the night (or hit the theaters) to watch the more graphic movies.
- My first writing ventures were horror stories.
Surprise, surprise! I’ve been writing for as long as I remember. The first actual “story” I wrote was on a typewriter at ten years old. It was called “The Secret Door”, about 15-20 pages long, and starred a haunted house that held a portal to another dimension. My first ever publication is a short story in an anthology called “Horrors of History” and it’s about two depression-era gangsters who get more than they bargained for during a bank heist (two words: zombie cops). I plan to do a lot more with these two fellas in the future, since I loved writing them so much. Every story I’ve written has a preternatural edge to it—I just can’t help it, it’s part of who I am.
- I wanted to be a paranormal investigator.
As a teenager, I used to raid abandoned houses (particularly those rumored to be haunted), trek into the woods after dark in hopes of running into a cult (or at least see a hanging body), and I played Ouija WAY too much (I’ve had some interesting experiences with that demonic game, let me tell you!). I know it sounds crazy but I loved to be scared; it was a rush, an addiction even, and my morbid curiosity never ceased to be satisfied. I never got into the real complex “ghost hunting” with detectors and such, but I still visit the occasional haunted spot (although my sixth sense has petered out, unfortunately). My hubby is quite averse to the supernatural world, so now I tend to explore it through writing and art. That and an occasional episode of Ghost Hunters. 😉
- The type of music that draws me in most is rock, metal, and rap of a darker flavor.
The darker the lyrics, the better. I love Trent Reznor (he’s my musical god) and some of my favorites are Marilyn Manson, Deftones, Godsmack, In This Moment, Disturbed, Staind and Stonesour. DMX is my favorite rapper of all time because he’s brutal and doesn’t hold anything back in his music. There’s something exhilarating about expressing one’s fears and discussing subjects most people are uncomfortable with through music (or any art in general). I try to do the same with my work and give it the realism it deserves.
- Jogging in cemeteries gives me peace.
So, do you think I’m a total weirdo yet? Although my running tends to be on the street and residential neighborhoods as of late, I used to run through cemeteries all the time in college. I loved the silence and isolation—no people, no cars, just me, the trees, and the graves. Many cemeteries are hilly too, which makes for a great workout.
- My acceptance of death and all things disturbing eased my transition into doctorhood.
Amongst other things, of course, but having a thick skin and a gut of steel helps. Being a doctor is terrifying. You end up in situations so crazy you can’t even imagine and you must act quickly. There’s no staring or jaw dropping or sudden paralysis. A career that starts out by asking you to take apart a human body requires some serious nerve…and that’s only the beginning! Not to mention you need to soothe the fears of others and understand them. Needles, scalpels, blood, and gore is no biggie to me. Being able to resist passing out is a major plus.
- My passion for the dark and sexy (like vampires!) led to the publication of my first full-length novel.
Yes, I love writing horror, but I also love writing about love. The books I’m most invested in involve a romantic relationship with a ton of conflict (usually of the frightening variety) and after much chaos and destruction, the hero and heroine have their well-deserved HEA. Dark paranormal romance and urban fantasy became my favorite genres to read…and write! I strive to put my readers through the same rollercoaster of emotions the characters experience—terror, lust, anger, sadness, relief, and of course, happiness. I think both fear and love bring out the best and worst in us, and I try to depict those ups and downs in my work. Now that my novels are out in the world, I hope they’ll be something memorable, whether you love the paranormal, horror, or a romance that keeps you teetering on the edge of your seat.
Former Navy SEAL Sebastian “Bash” Lockard died in Afghanistan after leaping on a grenade to save his comrades. Little did he know his act of heroism would grant him a ticket into Heaven’s elite army as one of the few and powerful Archangels. Struggling with his new existence, Bash still retains his human memories, leaving behind a wife he loves with all of his heart. Although he’s forbidden to see her, he can’t resist her lure, or the mortal desires he harbors for her.
As a young widow and nurse, Irene Lockard still mourns her husband two years after his untimely death. His absence is everywhere, and when her best friend weds, she hits an emotional rock bottom. As if summoned from the skies above, Sebastian appears before her, and they share an unforgettable night. But when he once again vanishes, she wonders if she’s truly gone mad with grief.
The only way Sebastian can remain with Irene is if he makes the ultimate sacrifice. But will she overcome her fear of losing him again to another war?
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Bash’s gaze caught on a couple on the dance floor, the sight of her sinking into him like hooks and bringing him to a standstill.
With her dark curls springing over her shoulders, she spun across the hardwood, her pale gray dress flowing around her. Much like in his recent vision of her, she tipped her head back and laughed, beautiful, stunning, her smile as bright as the yellow calla lilies tucked in her hair. She swayed with a man in dress whites, a Marine, another fucking soldier she didn’t belong with. And as the rain of realization became a downpour of comprehension, he remembered the engagement, where Claude proposed to Lucille—at their wedding—right before Bash left for another tour of Afghanistan.
“Bash?” Gabriel stepped in front of him, blocking his view, pale eyes narrowed.
Bash’s hand slammed into Gabriel’s chest, pushing him away as he lurched forward. Gabriel reacted faster, though, snatching his arm and wrenching him back at least four feet. Bash lunged again and the Arc’s hand fisted in his white button-down shirt.
“Don’t,” Gabriel growled, all humor draining from his angular face and setting his expression in stone. “Do not.”
Bash’s heart punched at the angel’s fist, every fiber of his being burning with the urge to run to her, to wrap his arms around her and feel her body against his one more time. Envy, rage, longing, and sadness blasted through him in a toxic tornado of emotion ready to whip this place into oblivion.
He nearly ground his molars into pulp. “Let. Me. Go.”
“You are dead, Sebastian. You’re no longer part of this world. All you’ll do is bring her pain, bring yourself pain. Don’t do this.” Twin streams of air whistled from the Arc’s nostrils as he shook his head. “I should’ve never brought you here.”
Bring him pain? More pain than he’d already endured? No.
Author Bio and Links:
L.D. Rose is a neurotic physician by day, crazed writer by night, and all around wannabe superhero. She writes award-winning dark paranormal fiction and she’s a PAN member of the RWA and FF&P. She currently lives in Rhode Island with her studly hubby, her hyperactive Boxer, and her two devious cats.
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