Friday, December 7, 2018

Shopping for Christmas? Check out Ann Swann Books

Just a bold self-promo in case you are shopping for Christmas (or any other reason).
The STUTTER CREEK series is suspense mixed with a little romance.
THE REMAINS IN THE POND is a stand alone suspense.
ALL FOR LOVE is a family drama a/k/a a tear-jerker.
TAKERS is a coming-of-age horror novel. 
THE PHANTOM TRILOGY is a series of ghost story mysteries. They are also on Audible as are almost all of my books! 

SEASONAL, SWEET, AND SUSPENSEFUL is a multi-author anthology 
COOL WEATHER, WARM HEARTS is a clean romance multi-author anthology

ALL FOR LOVE is on sale for 99¢ (digital)
THE REMAINS IN THE POND is on sale for 99¢ (digital)
TAKERS is also on sale for 99¢ (digital)

Buy links: 


Tuesday, November 27, 2018

Romance Reviews Year End Splash Party in November!

Sitting Bull #2

Blog post #2 about Sitting with Bull a/k/a Helping a Parent No Longer Able to Care for Himself or in my case, a step-parent, no difference to me, just wanted you to know why I call him Bull, or Pop. I never called him Dad. Just didn't seem the thing to do.

Anyhow . . . getting him out of bed today, I almost hurt myself laughing. As I was tugging his non-slip socks on over his poor ate-up-with-fungus toes (yeah, we're working on treatments) he made a sound I'd never heard before. I would've sworn Chewbacca was in that bed. It was a perfect Wookie exclamation. Of course the joke was only mine because Pop wouldn't know a Wookie from a hole in the ground.

It's late this morning. He wanted to finish watching Two Mules for Sister Sarah again. Again. Every week that thing comes on. Sometimes even more than once a day. I can't figure out the attraction on this one. Rooster Cogburn, yes. I can watch Rooster over and over again. Sister Sarah, not so much. Oh, well. Gave me a couple hours writing time this morning since he was up so late last night. Silver lining. Thanks, Clint Eastwood. Thanks, Shirley McClain. Seriously, at this point, I'm not sure which one he likes the best.

Follow up to last blog ...

The new electric wheelchair. He likes it! We went all the way down the long driveway to the gate. I took the trash bag to the dumpster and he drove all the way out in the street and made a U turn to go back. I'm encouraged. When we get the longer ramp for inside the house, I think he might be able to drive himself from room to room.

I think.

I hope.

Rats! When we came back in the house after our trip to the dumpster, he drove right in, crashed into the couch, shoved it a few inches, kept going, ran over his walker, tangled it in the wheels of his new chair, and wound up with the whole shebang smashed up against the physical therapy bike pedal that lives in the corner.

I laughed so hard I could hardly untangle the paraphernalia. Once I did, he put it in reverse and headed for the big screen TV. I lunged toward him and pressed my finger on the stop button. He insisted he could park it beside the desk in the opposite corner, but I was laughing too hard to discuss the matter.

I wound up backing the chair up manually (risking a butt-chewing in the process). Ahhh, the fun never ends at Casa Bull.

Saturday, November 24, 2018

FREE this Weekend Only - Multi-Author Romance Anthology

FREE this weekend only! Short and sweet romantic fiction by a variety of authors both near and far . . .  my story is THE SWEET SCENT OF HOME. Try this anthology. Your new favorite author may be within these pages. (psst . . . if you like ghosts, read my story) 

Tuesday, November 6, 2018

Kicker - The Forgotten Front

The Forgotten Front 

Free - along with two other books about war

World War II is raging. A young father must choose between his family and duty to his country- a decision that could cost him everything.
Based on actual experiences of United States veterans and official military aviation history records from World War II, this is the thrilling story of a family’s journey into war. While his loved ones struggle with shortages and rationing at home, Sam endures relentless Japanese attacks against his unarmed aircraft over the treacherous mountains and torrid jungles of Asia. His job is to drop supplies to Merrill’s Marauders and over 750,000 allied soldiers fighting in the perilous jungles of Burma. If the enemy is not stopped, the American way of life will end.
If you like non-stop action with a touch of humor and romance and the chance to learn about the “forgotten front” of WWII, then this is the book for you.


April 4, 1944 - Dinjan Airbase, India

       Sam and Bobby Joe were totally exhausted when they crawled into their charpoys. The harrowing events of the day had taken its toll on them physically and mentally. In spite of the heat and noise of the jungle, Sam felt the blessed relief of sleep approaching soon after his head hit the pillow. However, as he drifted off, a feeling of unease came over him. It was a feeling that something was wrong, not here in India, but at home. He didn’t know if he felt uneasy because he still hadn’t received mail from home or because of some unknown reason, but the feeling stayed with him until he finally succumbed to his exhaustion and slipped into a deep sleep.

Thankfully, his slumber was not disturbed by his recurring nightmare, and he slept soundly until the wee hours of the morning when he suddenly awoke not knowing what had disturbed him. A light rain was falling outside, and except for an occasional flash of distant lightning, the basha was in total darkness. He lay very still, listening to the sounds around him. He strained his hearing, but no sound came except for the steady breathing of the sleeping men around him. After several minutes, he relaxed, thinking his imagination was playing tricks on him. He was almost asleep again when he thought he detected a faint unfamiliar sound coming from somewhere in the basha. Once again, he listened intently, not sure he had heard anything; but then he heard the sound again—only this time it seemed closer, and he was sure it came from within the basha. He couldn’t quite place the sound, but it seemed like something soft brushing against an object. He listened closely, but all was silent. None of the other men in the basha stirred, and after an extended period of silence, he relaxed once again in anticipation of sleep.

       He was in that dreamy state just before slumber when he felt the presence of something or someone nearby. Once again, his senses came to full alert, and he made a conscious effort not to move. He listened carefully, bringing all his senses to bear. He could see or hear nothing, and yet he was sure something was there. He was startled when someone at the other end of the room moved, but then all was silent once again. He was lying on his back, so he slowly moved his head to the right and scanned the darkness.

       At first he saw nothing, but then attention was drawn to a slight movement at the foot of his bed. He couldn’t make out what it was. It appeared to be an undistinguishable shadow against the darker background of the room. As he watched, the shadow moved, and he held his breath as it silently glided along the side of his bed. There was no sound as it moved, and it slowly drew nearer and stopped near the head of his bed. He could tell that it was something large, but due to the extreme darkness, he was unable to see what it was. His instincts told him this was something dangerous and evil, and the hairs on the nape of his neck stood erect. At that moment, a distant flash of lightning faintly illuminated the scene, and in that instant of light, Sam could see the large form of a tiger standing beside him.

The animal’s head was enormous. Its eyes, momentarily reflecting light from the faraway lightning, gave the beast an evil, devil-like appearance. This was death incarnate staring directly at him.

       Sam was frozen with fear, and his heart seemed to stop. His .45-caliber pistol hung on the wall not three feet away, and he cursed himself for not keeping it inside the mosquito netting with him. He knew the tiger could see that he was awake, and he feared any movement would cause it to attack. The animal stepped closer, and Sam could see its dim outline and smell its damp fur and the fetid odor of its breath. The tiger appeared to know its victim was helpless. The great beast took its time as it sniffed the mosquito netting as if testing its strength. Slowly it raised a huge paw and placed it against the puny impediment. The tiger’s claws caught in the netting, and with a mighty swipe, it ripped the flimsy material away from the bed.

R Grey Hoover is an Air Force veteran with a family tradition of military service that dates back to the American revolution. He wrote his book “Kicker the forgotten front” to honor his father and the other veterans of World War II who fought in the China-Burma-India (CBI) theatre.  During the war, the European and Pacific theatres got most of the supplies and media attention leaving the CBI theatre with the leftovers. Even in today’s media coverage of World War II the CBI theatre is never mentioned. The author’s book is an attempt to correct this gross oversight.

R Grey Hoover’s social media links:

Thursday, October 25, 2018

Cool Weather, Warm Hearts RELEASE DAY!

Cool Weather, Warm Hearts

Now Available!

All proceeds to Wounded Warriors and The Magical Moon Foundation

Scroll down for an excerpt from my story, The Sweet Scent of Home. It's romance. Yes, really! Nary a serial killer in sight. A ghost? Well ... maybe.

The Sweet Scent of Home

            The autumn leaves crunched underfoot as my Irish setter, Bordeaux, dashed down the crooked path ahead of me. The cool, sweet-scented air caressed my face and the back of my neck. I flipped my blonde ponytail up with one hand and reveled in the feel of my favorite season.
            I’d arrived home from Ithaca—where I’d been working and attending college with my now-ex fiancé—just in time to help my parents decorate their bookshop, Through the Pages, for Halloween. I’d been gone four years and had only a few classes under my belt to show for it. This was not how I’d imagined my return, single and without even a degree for my efforts.
            Bordie and I continued slowly down the path.
            At the bookshop last night, my parents and I had decorated the large bay window with colorful fall leaves, rubber bats, and tissue ghosts. I also floated bits of cotton webbing in the corners for the plastic spiders. Dad contributed a large jack o’ lantern lit by a small battery operated light.
            We’d completed the scene with some of our favorite scary books like The Complete Works of Edgar Allan Poe, Stephen King’s The Shining, and Ray Bradbury’s Something Wicked this Way Comes. When it was done, I’d pulled the dark curtains closed behind the display. That really made the spooky elements pop.
              To their credit, my parents hadn’t quizzed me too closely on what had gone wrong at school, or with Mitch. When I’d told them the wedding was off, Mom had simply hugged me and Dad had patted my back. 


Friday, October 12, 2018

Sitting Bull #1

May 2018

I don't want to mislead anyone with the title of this blogpost series. This is not a blog about the famous Lakota Sioux chief (although both he and my stepfather were named after bulls).

No. This blog series is going to be a little from-time-to-time observation about one of my part time jobs . . . taking care of--sitting with--my partially disabled stepfather, Bull.

In Sitting Bull's case, he was named Tatanka-Iyotanka, a Lakota name that describes a buffalo bull sitting on its haunches. At least that's what I read on

In my stepdad's case, he was called Bull by the doctor who delivered him at home way back in the early 1930s. After many hours, and much whiskey on the part of the doc and the patient, my stepdad was finally delivered. When the doctor pulled him out, he said, "Well, no wonder we've had such a time, Miz P. That ain't no baby, it's a hookin' bull!"

So Bull he became. It fit perfectly. He weighed over 13 pounds and like most of the boys in his family, who also had Native American blood in their veins, he had a head full of curly black hair. Sort of like a buffalo bull.

Being baby number twelve out of thirteen, no one thought to get a birth certificate signed much less filed. When Bull started first grade, the teacher asked him his name. When he told her his name was Bull, she said, "I don't want your nickname. I want your Christian name."

He said, "Just Bull."

She got mad. "Tell me your Christian name right now, young man!" I picture her standing over him, slapping a ruler into her palm, eyes about to pop out of her head.

Even at six years of age my step daddy was nobody's fool. "JB," he blurted. "My name's JB."

Apparently that satisfied her. He said she wrote it in her book and from then on, that was his Christian name. JB.

"What do the letters stand for?" I asked him once.

"Nothing," he said. "Just the letters."

I didn't press him. You don't press him on things. Ever. But later on I realized what he'd done. Just Bull. JB. This would all come out in the wash, so to speak, forty years later when he was hired to go overseas and train men in Pakistan to move oil rigs. You see, he couldn't get a passport. No birth certificate, no passport. Eventually, his older sisters were able to convince the government that he really was born at home on that fateful date way back in the early part of the 1930s and he was finally granted the precious documents--birth certificate and passport all in one fell swoop.

So that's my stepdad. Bull Price. If you live in or near the oilfields of West Texas, you may know him or know of him. He's been a rig mover in this area for over fifty years. It's only been about four years ago that he was laid low by stroke. He's still Bull, though. He just needs a little help now and then. That's where I come in. My husband, Dude, our family friend, Janice, and me. We're the cavalry. It's challenging and rewarding and I wouldn't have it any other way. I just hope no one takes offense at some of the things I find funny. Bull and I have always had a contentious relationship. But wow, the shoe is really on the other foot now. Mom is gone. My sister is gone, my stepbrother is not in the picture. What else can I do but laugh and go on? He doesn't have much choice, either.

Sign up on the newsletter form if you'd like to know when another entry in the saga is posted. I'll try to get on a regular posting schedule, but with my three part time jobs, things can get a little crazy. 

The little video is Bull in his new electric wheelchair. I think I have a whole blogpost about this contraption. Later.

Afterthought: Sorry the video doesn't play. Someone more techie than I could probably say why . . . 

Sunday, September 30, 2018

NEW RELEASE - The Search for Starlight

With the release of Book #5 in her Kelsey Porter thriller series, my friend and talented author, Elyse Salpeter, culminates the journey of  a young woman who has come full circle in her quest to find the murderers of her parents.

“When Kelsey was just ten years old, she witnessed her parents’ murders, and since then, she’s dedicated her life to finding the killers and bringing them to justice. Her journey took her on a spiritual quest around the globe that thrust her deep into Buddhist spiritual mysteries. She discovered things about herself, her parents and her very place in the universe.”

She just needed to complete a simple errand... how hard could that be?

As soon as Kelsey embarks on the Emperor and Empress's request to locate a mysterious object and return it to them, her entire world is plunged into chaos.

Someone is following her, someone else has broken into her home, and now she believes the people she trusted most have all been lying to her. 

As Kelsey unravels the truth, she learns that her journey to this moment has never been entirely her own. Until now.

Readers will love this novel, which holds the answers to all your questions that have arisen throughout the series.  

Amazon Author Page:
Facebook Author Page:
Instagram: @elysesalpeter


 A girl, the Buddhist devil and a mystical world, tying them all together in ways unimaginable...

Book #1, The Hunt for Xanadu, is 99 cents for the rest of October
Twenty-two year old Kelsey Porter has dedicated her life to avenging the death of her parents, murdered in their quest to find the mystical land of Xanadu. Before she can locate the murderers, she has to discover their motives for the brutal crime and finds herself at the epicenter of a Buddhist mystery as old as time. With the help of her companion, Detective Desmond Gisborne, she hunts the killers across the globe and discovers a darkness in her spiritual past that tests the very limits of her soul. Soon she realizes that it is not she who is doing the hunting, but the one being hunted. Kelsey must find a way to survive, while ancient demons attempt to destroy her.

REVIEW FROM AUTHOR DOUGLAS PRESTON (if using this, please use his entire bio line below referencing Lincoln Child as well, per his request)
The Hunt for Xanadu by Elyse Salpeter is a remarkable novel, a fascinating and fantastical journey in time and space, and one of the most gripping novels I've read in a long time. It flies along at the pace of a thriller, with plenty of murder and mayhem along the way. But behind the thrill-ride is a spiritual story, an archetypal tale of mystery and darkness,riddled with fascinating and esoteric concepts in Tibetan Buddhism. Vivid characters, a truly appealing protagonist, unexpected twists, and crisp writing complete this unforgettable book. I can't wait to read the next one in the series!

--Douglas Preston, #1 bestselling author and co-creator, with Lincoln Child, of the Pendergast series

The Hunt for Xanadu appeared on Jeopardy!’s October 25, 2016 issue as a $200 question.

Author Bio:
Elyse Salpeter is an author who loves mixing "the real with the fantastic" in her books. She likes nothing better than taking different scenarios and creating worlds where things just aren't what they appear to be.

Her 5 book thriller series, THE HUNT FOR XANADU, THE QUEST OF THE EMPTY TOMB, THE CALL OF MOUNT SUMERU, THE HAUNTING OF CRAGG HILL HOUSE, and THE SEARCH FOR STARLIGHT are about a brilliant and fearless young woman named Kelsey Porter, whose life is steeped in Buddhist spiritual mysteries and she is constantly discovering the world around her is not what she believed it to be. 

Her Dark Fantasy Series, THE WORLD OF KAROV and THE RUBY AMULET take us to other realms filled with magic and evil as a dark presence is seeping through the dimensions.

Her YA novels, FLYING TO THE LIGHT and FLYING TO THE FIRE are about a young deaf boy who knows what happens to you when you die and now people are after him for the answers. 

Lastly, her horror novel, THE MANNEQUINS, is about a film crew that enters an abandoned mansion and disappears, while her horror anthology, RICKET ROW is filled with creepy tales, guaranteed to keep you up at night. 

When she's not writing, she's cooking, gardening, running around with her twins and eating shock food in her Gastronaut Club.

Amazon Author Page:
Instagram: @elysesalpeter