Believe
it or not, for a brief moment in time, I was able to see the future. No, surely
not, you say, but it’s true, my friends. Let me share with you my experience.


I have
always been fascinated by the mystic and magical. Can the power of the Earth really
be harnessed into predicting the future or changing your fate? How powerful is
the mind and positive thinking? Several years ago I began to look into reading
tarot cards. One of the beginning exercises is to look at one card each day.
Study the card well and see what transpires.

The
first day was like a lucky reading of your horoscope. Slightly vague but
accurate enough to think, cool, it worked. The second day was the same, by the
third I was giddy that I might possibly have a link to the cosmic universe. By
the end of week two, I was a nervous wreck because every single day the card’s
prediction came true. It was fun when the card said good times and fortune ahead,
but when a card came up that said, according to one manual, if you are a
writer, you will receive a rejection letter, and my very first rejection letter
arrived in the mail that day, (totally not kidding) that power wasn’t so fun.

On the
days when a card came up with a negative connotation, I didn’t want to leave
the house. If I couldn’t change the outcome, I wanted to stay in bed and wait
for the next day and another card. Then came the realization that if I avoided
the potential badness, something even worse might occur as a result.
Needless
to say, I stopped looking at the cards every  day. The stress was too great. Life is meant
to be a series of action and reaction, not constant preparation and
preventative measures. Surprise is what makes life interesting, does it not?
And I realized sometimes it’s best not to know.

However
I perform a reading every now and again. Like before, the cards are unerringly
accurate. One time I read for my brother and the cards said he would become
ill. Two days later he was in the emergency room. And another time I had
suffered a unexpected personal trauma. All ten cards in the spread were exact
in the retelling and of what transpired afterward.
Yes,
sometimes it’s best not to know.


Anna Alexander
GSRWA Membership Chair & Asst. Workshop Chair-Emerald City Writers Conference
Hero Revealed from Ellora’s Cave out now!
AnnaAlexander.net Facebook-Anna Alexander  Twitter @AnnaWriter
Book one in the Heroes of Saturn series.

As a female sheriff in a small town, Brett Briggs faces enough obstacles turning complacent good ol’ boys into a top-notch police force without the added insult of a vigilante apprehending her criminals. Her prime suspect? Kristos Kilsgarrd, the sexy river guide who has been open in his desire to move her away from her badge and into his bed.

In his former position as royal guard, Kristos once failed a woman he cared for and as punishment was banned from his home on one of Saturn’s moons. He vows not to make the same mistake with Brett and uses his superpowers to protect her, no matter the foe. Or the cost.
But Brett didn’t become sheriff by letting a man take care of her, and although the hot-as-hell Kristos is persuasive, she’s not going to start now—even after burning it up between the sheets with him. When her town is threatened, they cry out for a hero and she sets out to prove to everyone, Kristos included, that she’s the woman for the job.

Excerpt
of Hero Revealed by Anna Alexander-
Out now from Ellora’s Cave
“Good morning, Brett.”
Damn it, how did he do that? She
sucked in a breath for strength and stepped around the corner, and promptly
swallowed her tongue when he came into view.
The morning sun highlighted the blue
in his thick, black hair, making it look as soft as a panther’s pelt. He was
the definition of tall, dark and dangerous with his muscular build, confident
stance and the double ring tattoo circling his bulging biceps. Adding to the
air of danger was the wide scar bisecting the two bands. It looked as if a pipe
had been heated and pressed to his skin, which had to have hurt. The mark
matched the set of scars crisscrossing his back, which she only noticed because
he often went shirtless, and not because the play of muscles made her lips burn
with the need to soften the marks with wet kisses.
His thumbs pulled at the loops of
his jeans, drawing her gaze to his flat stomach and well-worn fly. Her throat
grew tight as she imagined cuffing him to her bed and licking every deliciously
carved bronze inch. He sucked in a sharp breath and those pale-green eyes
Conkle called weird seemed to see right into the heart of her, daring her to
live out her most secret desires.
With all the grace of a newborn colt
she stumbled forward and blurted, “What do you think you’re doing?”
He gestured to the kayaks waiting on
the river bank. His lips curled in that smug, obnoxious grin she itched to
slap—or kiss—away. “My job?”
“I’m talking about last night and
the week before. You’re apprehending my suspects before I can and it has to
stop.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking
about.” He cocked a dark eyebrow and replied with an accent as rich as hot
fudge sliding warm and sweet down her spine.
“Don’t mistake me for an idiot. I
know who you are.”
“I should hope so. I ask you out at
least twice a week. I’m starting to think you don’t like me.” He chuckled and
tilted his head with a frown. “You appear tired. Are you sleeping well? Come
share a meal with me. How about we take the day off and go out to the lake for
a picnic?”
“What? No—” She scowled and
regrouped. “Whatever game you’re playing stops now. I will not allow a civilian
to interfere in police business.”
“Ahhh.” He brushed his finger
alongside his nose. “You must be speaking of the vigilante I’ve been hearing
whispers about. If you see him again, give him my thanks. You need someone to
look out for your welfare.”
“It’s my job to take that risk. I
will not allow such disrespect to continue.”
“I mean no disrespect with my words,
Brett. I’m quite aware of your strengths, however it pains me to think your
light might be extinguished from this world before you’ve experienced all of
the treasures she can provide, and I want to share them with you.” His voice
dropped an octave and her body trembled under his hypnotic spell.
Was his ability to make her melt and
want to commit murder at the same time a gift or a curse?
He drifted closer, swaying in that
way rock stars use to seduce their fans. Heat shimmered between them in waves,
like sunlight hitting molten pavement. Her eyelids grew heavy as her limbs
melted, softening in preparation of molding to his muscled contours. Under her
thick down jacket, her nipples tightened, ready for his touch, and her hips
shifted as wetness and heat pooled between her thighs. She was lost, drowning
in the sea of lust radiating from his eyes and the promising pout of his lips.
“Why? Why are you doing this?” she
whispered. “What do you want from me?”
A dimple appeared near the corner of
his mouth. “I thought you knew. Apparently I’ve been too subtle.” He leaned
close, his chest brushing her coat. “I want you, Brett. All of you. I want your
passion, your regard. I want you to loosen your tightly bound control and come
apart in my arms with my name falling from your lips like a prayer.” He ran the
tip of his finger over her cheek. “I do love the way you say my name.”
Cold air hit the back of her throat
as she sucked in a huge breath, breaking the spell he wove with the sensuous
grace that was pure Kristos. She shook her head and stepped back. “Wow. Such
poetic words from a river rat. No wonder you have so many women lining up for
what you dish out.”
Crap. She mentally grimaced at the
ugly snap in her tone. Why couldn’t she wrestle her jealous shrew into
submission? Kristos was a sexy man. His raw sexuality wasn’t something he could
turn off and on like a light. It wasn’t entirely his fault that women responded
to him with such shameless abandon, and she had made it perfectly clear she
didn’t want him. Lie that it was.
She wanted him so bad she sometimes
trembled with the need and found herself, on occasion, with her keys in hand,
ready to seek out his touch.
Kristos was like a well-aged bottle
of bourbon. Hot and fiery as he slid over her tongue and down her throat, his
heat permeating every fiber in her body with a sensuousness that stole all
rational thought until she craved nothing but pure pleasure. Then the next
morning would come the killer hangover and the painful pounding headache to
remind her why she didn’t drink in the first place.
He scowled as she retreated farther
away. “That’s not fair and you know it. Those women don’t appeal to me, and do
you know why?” He stalked toward her with purpose. Those big shoulders rolled
with each step until he backed her against the side of the building, his heat
and power invading her personal space. Crowding her further, he leaned closer
so they were nose to nose. The warmth of his breath brushed her lips in a
promise. “They’re not you. You, Brett, are truly special.”
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