Contact: S. K. Yule ratedhotwriting@gmail.com

Collinsville library hosts Metro East Authors for book signings

COLLINSVILLE, Ill. – Want a unique gift for the holidays? How about an autographed book?

The Collinsville Public Library will host an authors’ corner Dec. 4-5 from noon to 8 p.m. each day of the Holiday Arts Festival. Twelve authors from the Metro East St. Louis area will participate at various times during the event, although books may be offered at other times. You may purchase books and the authors will sign them.

The following authors will be present at the times listed.

Dec. 4-5, noon-8 p.m.
P. A. Hendrickson, Dreamstone (science fiction)
Elizabeth Donald, The Dreadmire Chronicles: Knight of the Demon Tree; Abaddon; Nocturne; Setting Suns; The Cold Ones (horror/fantasy)

Friday, Dec. 4, noon-4 p.m.
Tim Fleming, Murder of an American Nazi (historical fiction)
Dan Hechenberger, The Early History of the Illinois Indians (DVD) (non-fiction history)
Cheryl Eichar Jett, Alton; Edwardsville (local history)

Friday, Dec. 4, 4-8 p.m.
Harold Lynn Beck, Henry and Anthony (fiction)
Van Allen Plexico, Sentinels (superhero action prose series); Sherlock Holmes: Consulting Detective, Vol. 1; Lucian: Dark God’s Homecoming (fantasy novel); Lance Star: Sky Ranger, Vol. 2 (air ace pulp fiction); Assembled! and Assembled! 2 (comics commentary; editor)

Saturday, Dec. 5, noon-2 p.m.
S. K. Yule, Darkest Hours; Lycan Lover; Jericho’s Revenge (paranormal/shapeshifter romance)

Saturday, Dec. 5, noon-4 p.m.
Diana Lesire Brandmeyer, Hearts on the Road; A Time to Dance (Christian romance)
AJ Brower, A Family to Die For (romantic suspense)
Tim Fleming, Murder of an American Nazi (historical fiction)
Sloan McBride, Highland Stone (time-travel romance); The Fury (paranormal romance)

Saturday, Dec. 5, 2-8 p.m.
Vince Churchill, The Butcher Bride; The Dead Shall Inherit the Earth; The Blackest Heart (horror/science fiction)

The authors’ corner will be at the Collinsville Public Library, Community Room, 408 W. Main St., in Collinsville, on the lower level of the Collinsville Library. Public may park in either the east or west parking lot and enter the lower level directly from either parking lot. For additional information, call 618-344-1112, or visit the library website at www.collinsvillelibrary.org.

Darkest Hours is now available in print.

Get your copy today at: http://www.amazon.com/Darkest-Hours-S-K-Yule/dp/1935348779/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1258741792&sr=1-2

Lycan Lover
S. K. Yule
Shapeshifter Paranormal Romance Novella
ISBN: 978-1-935348-72-6
Heat Level: HOT
Release Date: November 6, 2009
Available at: www.amirapress.com

Blurb:

After her last boyfriend hid the fact he was married, Karen Samson decides to take a break from dating. Lately she’s burnt out and bored with the daily humdrum routine of life. The only thing breathing spice into her ordinary existence is erotic dreams of a sexy green-eyed man.

After suffering years of loneliness, Anthony Wolfson finds his mate, Karen Samson. The problem; he’s werewolf, she’s human. His instincts scream to claim her, his need to protect urges him to woo her. Unbeknownst to him, fate has another plan for them involving a young, cocky werewolf and a dark alley.

Excerpt:

Karen slid off the bar stool, trying not to let the short, black leather skirt ride too far up her legs. She precariously balanced on stiletto heels and prayed she’d make it out of the bar without falling flat on her face. She reached carefully for her coat, not wanting to bend too far over in fear she might spill out of the tight black bustier. Before she could grasp the fabric, a deep voice stilled her hand.

“Excuse me.”

The man’s voice washed over her like a lover’s caress. She squeezed her eyes shut and wondered how such a simple thing could turn her blood hot. She turned and stared into the eyes of her dream man. She barely caught a gasp from escaping and her overheated mind nearly forgot to remind her to shut her gaping mouth before she made a complete fool of herself. This could not be happening. He was not real, yet there he stood not a foot from her. Her heart hammered in her chest and she swallowed and closed her mouth after uttering, “Yes?”

“I was wondering if you’d dance with me?”

He was drop-dead gorgeous. She glanced at Jenny and Sal. Both were sitting at the table, mouths hanging open. She looked back at the man standing in front of her. He was well over six feet tall, and his dark T-shirt clung to every muscle of his broad chest and shoulders, defining each flawless line perfectly. She wished the lights were brighter so she could see the details of his face. Even though it was too dim to see exactly what shade his hair was, she knew it was inky black. “Um, well, I was getting ready to leave.”

“Just one dance?” One thick, dark brow lifted in question, and he flashed a smile that sent butterflies dancing in her tummy.

As if on cue, the music changed to a thumping, sensual beat. “Okay.” Before she could say another word, he took her by the hand and pulled her through the crowded room to an open corner of the dance floor. He wrapped his arms around her and began moving his hips. She had never known a man could move with such graceful, sexy fluidity.

All her thoughts quieted, and every cell in her body responded to the sensual music, as she swayed in time to his every step. Her skin tingled everywhere he touched and she ached for more contact. Her body was in tune to his every move, every breath, every heartbeat, leaving no room for the confusion that would no doubt surface later. The confusion as to why she would react so strongly to a complete stranger.

She’d never been this turned on by a man, much less by a man whose name she didn’t even know, yet at this particular moment in time, she didn’t care. The only thing she cared about was getting as close to him as possible. “Um, where’s your costume?”

He let out a low laugh that sent fire burning deep in her belly. “I don’t really need one.”

Her brow raised in question. “Why’s that?”

“Let’s just say that I have my own built-in costume I can use whenever I want.”

Her brows drew together as she tried to figure out exactly what that meant, but she promptly forgot all about the remark when his hard body rocked against hers. She bit her bottom lip to keep a groan from escaping.

* * * *

He’d waited so long to touch her. Her skin was as soft as satin, and he’d dreamed about holding her in his arms so many nights that he’d finally begun believing it might never become reality. He breathed her scent deep and swore he could feel it interweaving around every molecule in his body, branding him. He’d watched her for the past year, barely able to stay away. Now that he’d actually touched her, he knew he’d never stay away again.

He dipped his face near her hair and let the lustrous strands tickle his skin. She was soft everywhere. He nearly drooled at the thought of tasting her. His heart thundered in his ears, and his breathing quickened. The beast in him awakened, lurked right beneath the surface, waiting for a chance to show itself. It didn’t understand the rules of humanness. All it understood was the need to hunt, the need to protect, the need to take, and it wanted to take Karen at this very moment.

When he’d caught a glimpse of her in her tiny leather skirt, tight black bustier, fishnet stockings, and stiletto heels earlier, he thought he’d shoot a load right there on the stool he’d been lounging on. There wasn’t a curve on her feminine figure that wasn’t hugged by the tiny outfit. His cock had grown so hard he hurt. But, chasing the heels of desire was white-hot jealousy nearly driving him insane at the mere thought of other men seeing his mate dressed like that. Yes, she was beautiful, but she was for his eyes only.

His muscles quivered in anticipation, and sweat covered his skin from the effort to control his urges. He wanted her under him. He wanted inside her. He wanted to taste her, hold her, caress every inch of her delectable skin. The beast demanded possession while the man fought to maintain the boundaries of humanity. His palms itched, and he ran his fingertips down her back. She swayed in perfect sync with his, as if they had danced a million times before.

His heart thundered harder, and he gritted his teeth. His control slipped another notch in the beast’s favor. He had to get away or he’d do something they’d both regret. He took another deep breath, imprinting her on his very soul. As long as the sun lit the sky and the stars twinkled at night, he’d never forget her tantalizing scent.

He leaned in close to her ear. “Thank you for the dance.” As he walked away, he knew the only thing that gave him the strength to leave her was the knowledge that she would soon be his. He couldn’t wait any longer. This very night he’d claim his mate.

Our Getaway Weekend at

The Irish Inn, Ozark, IL

     Being a paranormal romance writer, a woman deprived of a vacation for over ten years and a yearning for proof of the afterlife, I can’t tell you how excited I was when one afternoon I came across The Irish Inn on the internet. Yes, the internet reaps enough benefits to counteract the many pains in the butt it can cause, but back to my story.

     I can’t tell you how ecstatic I get each year when the month of October approaches. I haven’t met a horror or ghost movie I hate yet, and this year I decided ten years without some rest and relaxation is enough. I set out on my search in August, hoping I’m not already too late. My ideal getaway has to have some paranormal aspect, and has to be in October. Since I know most places are usually booked far in advance, my hopes are very low.

     So, imagine my surprise when I come across this quaint little bed and breakfast a mere three and a half hours from my home. Imagine my even bigger surprise when I learn they have an opening in October. I eagerly set things in motion and am nearly giddy with excitement, wondering how I’m going to wait a month and a half.

     As time seems to fly when you get older, our booked weekend arrives in a blink of the eye, and my husband and I are off. The drive down was relaxing and scenic with rolling hills and clear, blue skies. There is a tiny bite in the air, just enough to remind you that fall is here, but still warm enough to indicate summer is not ready to fully relinquish its hold. Three and a half hours later we arrive at our destination, The Irish Inn.

     The gorgeous log cabin called The Irish Inn sits in the middle of the countryside, tucked into a hillside surrounded by peace, tranquility, wineries and the beautiful Shawnee National Forest. We arrive on Friday afternoon and are promptly greeted by the innkeeper, Lynn. Lynn is a delightful woman who was warm and inviting to us, treating us like extended family. After a brief chat we got settled into our scenic room with its own deck that overlooked a well-maintained pond and manicured lawn, its border lined with thick, rich forest. We had our own television with dvd player and a huge library of movies and books to choose from, even though we really had no plans to watch too much TV.

     After settling in and relaxing a bit, we decide to go out for a few hours of exploration before dinner is ready—A wonderful, homemade spaghetti dinner with fresh vegetables, salad and garlic bread prepared by Lynn. I cannot even begin to tell you how wonderful the sauce smelled simmering on the stove.

     That afternoon we visited Bell Smith Springs. On the way, we passed a cemetery with a peculiar sight. A mailbox perched in the middle of the headstones, flag up—not a house around—that said “information” on it. We drove by even, though my husband insisted he wanted to open the mailbox, and reached our destination about twenty minutes later. We walked the trail and saw some beautiful sights including an impressive stairway made of rock. I, myself, found the stairway a little difficult as I have asthma, but I did conquer it, and it was well worth it. Pictures of Bell Smith Springs

     We then headed back to the Inn. After we returned we relaxed for a little while before settling in for spaghetti. By the way—remember the mailbox in the cemetery?—turns out anyone who opens the mailbox is cursed with terrible luck. There is even a tale that some of those that have opened it have found letters addressed to themselves. I’m very glad we decided not to open the mailbox because I already have enough bad luck. So now back to the spaghetti dinner. This is when we met Brian, Lynn’s husband and co-Innkeeper. Brian is a former resident of Ireland, and his rich Irish brogue, Irish tales and witty humor provided fascinating dinner conversation. After our bellies were full, Lynn drove us to meet some real Cherokee Indians.

     I met and talked to some wonderful people, and learned a lot about a cultural that sometimes feels to be such a part of the past it is slipping away. However, that narrow-minded thinking is far from the truth. Indians are still very much part of this world—an important part—and I kept finding myself wishing that more people would open their eyes and minds and realize how important these people are to our society.

     Every one of them was kind, completely open and ready to share their stories with me. Honestly, I could have stayed and talked to them all night. I thank them from the bottom of my heart for an experience that most will never have.

     After returning we had Irish tea—which was yummy—and then turned in for the night.

     Day two begins. We are excited and rested and ready to go. We wake up to a huge breakfast that Brian has prepared for us. Eggs, bacon, sausage, ham, toast, fresh tomatoes, fresh orange juice, coffee—I mean who could ask for a better start to another gorgeous day in the making?

     Our plan is to visit Garden of the Gods, The Chocolate Factory, a couple wineries and to eat lunch before coming back to relax for awhile before setting out on our paranormal evening. We actually planned to visit many more places, but the above is what we ended up doing as we went along at a turtle’s pace absorbing the gorgeous scenery.

     Garden of the Gods, first stop. Absolutely breathtaking is all I can say. The beauty of the place will steal the air from your lungs. I can honestly say standing on the tip of a huge rock formation, peering miles and miles, over rolling forest brought me as close to being one with nature as I have felt for a long time, or ever. Pictures of Garden of the Gods

     The Chocolate Factory, second stop. Yum, yum and yum. We picked up several handmade treats for ourselves as well as for family members.  Don’t miss this place.

     Hogg Hollow, third stop. We were greeted by a small winery set off a winding back road. I can’t pretend to be close to being a wine connoisseur, but I will tell you Hogg Hollow had some of the best wine I’ve ever tasted. I bought a bottle of Sangria for myself and a bottle of blackberry/grape for my mother—who by the way, is more of a wine connoisseur than I, and said it was some of the best she’s ever had with no aftertaste.

     Next we stopped and ate at what most people would call a little hole-in-the-wall. I will tell you, we were surprised. The food was excellent. Stomachs satiated and bones tired, we decide to head back to rest for awhile before dinner and our big ghost hunt.

     After a dinner of pizza and more great conversation with Lynn and Brian, Lynn takes us on our paranormal adventure. Now, first off let me tell you: 1. Yes! I love anything paranormal, but I am not one of those who think every bump, every weird shadow, and every strange light is a ghost. I want proof! I am very open to the possibility of spirits, but that doesn’t mean I am gullible either; and 2. My husband is somewhat open to the possibility, but is a bigger skeptic and has never had a paranormal experience himself.

     Our first stop is what is called the Beast House. If you would like to read the stories behind any of these places, please visit:  http://irishinn.tripod.com/id12.html. While at this time, the house is no longer standing—other than a huge brick fireplace—you can feel the thickness in the air as soon as you step foot out of the car. I got some amazing pictures of orbs before being scared off by a deer.  Yeah, I’ve seen when animals attack, and I wasn’t in the mood to be a mate to a buck that night.

     Keep in mind please, that when I take pictures, I always try to click at least two pictures in succession quickly. So, if there are orbs in one and none in the next, it is harder to argue that it was just dust. Now, if the orbs were still there, but in different places, okay, maybe you could argue dust. But, there and then gone, no. I will post links so you can view the pictures and come to your own conclusions. Pictures of Beast House

     Second stop is Tunnel Hill. We began our quarter mile trek on the bike trail at night to the tunnel. An eerie feeling of being watched plagues my husband and I the whole way to the tunnel. Lynn leaves us at the tunnel opening as she is feeling uneasy and says she will meet us back at the car. My husband and I begin walking toward the end of the pitch black, fairly long tunnel armed with a flashlight and camera. I snap off several pictures, and we are stopped every few steps by the sound of footsteps up ahead. Each time my husband says he’s not convinced, and we continue only to stop again as the footsteps sound closer and I snap more pictures. To make a long story short, we only make it about three quarters of the way to the end before—get this—my husband says, “okay, I’m convinced. Let’s go back.”

     On the way back, there is almost an urgency in the air. It makes us want to run back to the car, but we manage to stay in control of our emotions. The feeling of someone watching us is stronger on the way back, and about half way to the car, the clip is slipping out of my hair and I stop to pull it out and put the clip back in tighter. We begin walking again and within seconds, something pulls my hair hard enough to make me stumble. My husband and I look at each other and can do nothing else but giggle in excitement. Now, others may find this horrifying, but while we were a little intimidated, our curiosity was stronger. Pictures of Tunnel Hill

     Third stop is the cemetery. This was our last stop, and while it had the least occurrences of anything that could be considered paranormal, it was not a bust by far. I again, got pictures of many orbs and my husband and I both smelled a sweet, floral scent off and on the whole time we were in the cemetery. Let me also clarify, that we did not know about the tales of others smelling the woman’s perfume beforehand. We didn’t encounter any of the previously sighted ghost soldiers, but the perfume and orbs were enough to excite us to no end knowing we were lucky enough to have experiences in all three places we visited. Pictures of the Cemetery

     We went back to the Inn for some more Irish tea and to show off our pictures before turning in.

     Sunday morning. I can’t tell you how depressing Sunday morning was when it rolled around, since we knew we were going to have to get on the road fairly early as my husband had to return to work late Sunday night. We again, were treated to a scrumptious breakfast with all the same trimmings as Saturday morning plus fried potatoes with onions and peppers.

     The time came where we had to say farewell to the quaint Bed and Breakfast we enjoyed so much and hit the road.

     My opinion:  If you need a relaxing weekend with leisurely things to do, and have a curiosity for the paranormal, this place is for you. If you don’t have a curiosity for the paranormal, and just want a place to wind-down, meet great people and visit wonderful, down-to-earth places, this place is for you also. Looking for a romantic getaway? Covered. I can’t imagine anyone not liking a visit to The Irish Inn.  Thank you so much Lynn and Brian!

Pictures of The Irish Inn

Lycan Lover
Paranormal Shape-shifter novella
Coming November 6th to www.amirapress.com

Blurb:

After her last boyfriend hid the fact he was married, Karen Samson decides to take a break from dating. Lately she’s burnt out and bored with the daily humdrum routine of life. The only thing breathing spice into her ordinary existence is erotic dreams of a sexy green-eyed man.

After suffering years of loneliness, Anthony Wolfson finds his mate, Karen Samson. The problem; he’s werewolf, she’s human. His instincts scream to claim her, his need to protect urges him to woo her. Unbeknownst to him, fate has another plan for them involving a young, cocky werewolf and a dark alley.

Rated R Excerpt:

Why hadn’t he killed the little bitch yet? He clenched his fists trying hard to resist the rising urge to punch something. She’d been chained in his basement for a week. He’d yearned so long for the sweet taste of revenge yet now he sat here like some pansy ass wondering why he hadn’t exacted it. Hell with it! He’d go do it right now. He’d drain the last drop of blood from her scrawny neck and watch until the last flicker of light vanished from her lifeless eyes.

He lunged out of the high backed leather chair he was sitting in with such force it fell backwards. But, before it crashed to the floor, he spun with lightening speed and yanked it back up by the arms then flung it across the room. It hit the wall and shattered into several pieces, splintering wood speared the air. The loud crack upon impact reverberated through the room. He’d be pissed about his broken favorite chair and the hole in the wall later. Right now he was too occupied with his current problem. He dug his fingers through thick jet-black hair, pulling at it as if he could yank the warring thoughts from his brain. He closed his eyes, nostrils flaring in anger, and sucked in several frustrated breaths.

For the past week something had halted his every attempt to kill Sabrina. Some nagging feeling in the pit of his stomach, some emotion he was not familiar with. He’d never been a man ruled by emotions and the new feelings sparked by the current situation angered and frustrated him. He wasn’t one to tolerate such weakness. He had not lived over four hundred years by allowing sappy feelings to rule his life. He considered himself fierce, loyal and a damn good fighter. There was no room in his life for crappy road trips down emotional lane.

“Fuck!” he pounded his fist so hard on the desk it shook and threatened to break in half. The one moment he’d yearned for, lived for, hungered for, the day of vengeance was now a reality waiting for him in his cellar, and yet Sabrina continued to breathe, continued to live. Her every breath called to him, mocked him for the coward he was.

Sabrina Johnson became his enemy the night she’d killed the one woman he had ever come to feel anything for in his long existence. Jade was beautiful, strong and his match in every way. He planned to spend his life with her until Sabrina turned that dream into a nightmare by murdering Jade in cold blood. The images of that ill fated night were forever imprinted on his brain, each crystal clear detail as vivid as if it happened only yesterday.

100 years earlier . . .
Jericho opened the front door of his home, returning after feeding, to a sight he never imagined to witness. The body of the woman he loved, the woman he made love to night after night lay on the floor limp and lifeless. Her soft blonde hair fanned out under her as if the wind gently blew it, mixed with sticky, half-dried blood. The rich red liquid matted the silky waves and the macabre contrast of colors only emphasized her beauty. His heart leapt, skipped then settled into a sporadic rhythm that ached with each beat. His woman was dead. Bled dry from the jagged slice across her pale throat. Jericho was so stunned by the vision in front of him it took his brain a moment to process the slight movement in the shadows.

The red-headed bitch, Sabrina Johnson stood near Jade’s lifeless body. He didn’t know Sabrina well only having run across her on a few occasions, but he would’ve never pegged her as a murderer. By the time the shock wore off his body, allowing his shock frozen, cramped muscles movement once again, Sabrina had pulled a disappearing act.
He sat on the wood floor that was nearly as cold as the lifeless body he now cradled in his lap and vowed to hunt Sabrina down and kill her for taking his woman from him. There was nowhere she could hide from him. He would turn over every rock, every stone, every pebble, every damn grain of sand. Look in every nook and cranny. Scour the earth until he found her. Then, he’d bring his full wrath down upon her.

The present. . . .

Images of Jade’s life force flowing across the floor had haunted his every waking hour, his every dreaming moment for so long he couldn’t remember what life had been like before the memories had been forever stamped on his brain. After almost one hundred years of hunting her, he’d finally caught up with Sabrina a few nights ago. She’d evaded him at every turn for so long, he’d never believed his luck when he got a tip she was at a restaurant only a couple hours from his home. She should have known better than to have the audacity to set foot so close to his neck of the woods.

Yet, now instead of wallowing in the belly of revenge he was full of anger, confusion and questions. Why did he let her live? Why had he brought her to his house? He’d planned on taking her out onto a deserted road somewhere in the swamps and bleed her just dry enough where there was no chance for her to survive then throw her to the gators. But, instead he’d continued driving and driving until he was back at his own house in Baton Rouge.

He pulled his six foot five frame straight, every muscle tense, ready for battle and sucked in a deep breath. “No more excuses,” he muttered. Jericho Tavi was not a man to go back on a vow. He would finish this tonight. And, still a small voice buried deep in a corner of his conscious whispered doubt and wondered if it would be heard.

Well, I have badly neglected my blog site. I’ve been soooo busy. Jericho’s Revenge has been accepted for publishing and I’ve been editing like crazy.

Lycan Lover is submitted for consideration and I’ve gotten the draft done of Demon Scorned a Demon/Romance Novella and I still need to finish editing Darkest Dreams, the second installment of the Darkest Series.

My first deadline for Jericho’s Revenge is Friday. I’m over halfway through with it and hope to finish up tonight or in the morning. Then hopefully (fingers crossed) I’ll have time for another quick edit before sending off to the publisher.

I’m hoping to have all mentioned above accepted for publishing and finished by the end of the year so I can get back to Possess Me Please.

Still haven’t heard back about Alexander: Dream Warrior and it’s been over 5 months now.

The waiting game is not fun. I guess it’s all part of the writing game. I hope to be able to keep up better on my blog in the future. Stop by and see me at www.facebook.com/skyule and www.myspace.com/skyule.

Coffee Time Romance Review for Darkest Hours: 5 cups out of 5

Read the review here: http://www.coffeetimeromance.com/BookReviews/darkesthours.html

Paranormal Romance Review:

http://www.paranormalromance.org/reviews/review.php?id=31461

Buy your copy today at: http://www.amirapress.com/shop/index.php?main_page=product_info&products_id=223&zenid=bc73a192b58488ff049bdc2af2bfc3bb