Erica Lawson is a "dinky di"
Aussie, born and raised in Sydney, Australia, 52 years ago. She has been
married for 32 years and has two grown-up daughters. She has no fancy degrees
or diplomas, content to finish schooling at secondary grade at age 17 and
join the workforce. She has worked as a secretary for most of her working
life, taking time off to raise said kids, in a variety of interesting fields
from a government scientific organization, the fire brigade, the film industry
and finally, for the last 15 years, with a psychiatrist. Many of her friends
will attest to the fact that she finally found her niche in the last job,
gaining many helpful hints for her own state of mind.
a "late bloomer" in starting her writing career. For many years,
she never felt the need to express herself on paper. Her artistic needs
didn't emerge until her mothering needs had abated, whereupon she discovered
that there was a world outside the family home. Some encouragement finally
pushed her out of the writing nest and she spread her wings to fly as
high as she could.
New York City, in the height of summer. Crime seems to have taken a holiday, and Detective Morgan O'Callaghan is bored, bored, bored. Paperwork is mating and multiplying on her desk, and even a jaywalker is starting to look good. Anything to get her out from behind her desk!
Enter Andrea Worthington, Charleston socialite and all-around rich girl, right down to the wealthy fiancé. She's also the new Assistant District Attorney assigned to Morgan's precinct.
Their first meeting is like two freight
trains crashing head on. Then a high profile, career make-or-break murder
case throws them together again. The investigation has barely begun when
Andrea becomes the target of a nearly fatal hit-and-run. But was it really
aimed at her? Can she and Morgan find the common ground they need to solve
the case and stop the attacks, or are the gaps just too wide to bridge?
|The Chronicles of Ratha: Children of the Noorthi|
Her chances of survival aren't looking good. She has no food, water, or weapons, and the nearest bar is a million miles away. Just when she's ready to write her last will and testament, Jordana is rescued by a group of barely-clad women. Has she found nirvana?
Her own personal harem seems like a possibility, until the intercession of their enemy, the Velkren. Their leader, Vel, remembers Jordana well, and not fondly. But why is Vel on this planet, surrounded by murderers, thieves, and bad-tempered bitches? Jordana knows Vel isn't a prisoner, so why is her nemesis on Rigeus mining mud, of all things?
Jordana knows only one thing. She has to get off the planet before Vel kills her. Unfortunately, the women who saved her reveal themselves to be holy. They are the mysterious Noorthi, and Jordana's dream of endless debauchery becomes a nightmare of eternal servitude. The Noorthi make her one of them, marking her with a wrist tattoo, and leaving her no choice but to protect them with her life.
The last thing Jordana wants is to become involved in galactic politics or heroic actions. But the tattoo ochre in her body is suddenly giving her morals and scruples, not to mention a better vocabulary! And she really can't pass up a chance to outwit Vel, whose megalomaniac plans are endangering not only the Noorthi, but the civilized galaxy itself.
is torn. Does she stop Vel at all costs, of does she get out from under
the thumb of the Noorthi while she can? Some things were never meant to
A loner. An outcast. A killer.
A hundred years into the future, in a near-totalitarian state, there exists a group of feared Government assassins called The Black Shadow Corps. They are albinos, able to send their inner shadow to kill in the name of the law.
is leader of The Black Shadow Corps. But she is different from them, visibly
marked by her pale blue eyes. Her teammates consider her a half-breed,
to be feared and despised.