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Tuesday, July 10, 2012

Guest author Danica Winters

Today I have Danica Winters stopping by on her tour for
Curse of the Wolf.

Danica will be giving away an ecopy to one lucky person today
that leaves a comment.


The Writer’s Golden Rule

A friend of mine, who is a fresh writer, asked me a question the other day.  She wrote, “I want to write a [review] on a published book…The thing is, it is kind of negative.  Can I do this?”

I am of the solid belief that if you are a writer, you shouldn't put down other writers.  We know more than anyone how hard it is to create.  I've had a negative review by another writer and, with the publishing world being as small as it is, I had the unique chance to meet him.  It was very uncomfortable, but after some small talk, he apologized saying he was sorry he had written the review—he was having a bad day.  Since then he has tried to take down the review, but once something is in place it is almost impossible to make it disappear.  Unless you are sure you will feel the same way in five years, you should hold back. 

That being said, you should give an honest review—it will help the author to see the weak and strong points in their writing.  However, it is a thin line between helpful criticism and negativity.

Writers are prolific readers.  We will read books we will not like, we will read books that we love, but we must remember to treat all other writers with the same level of respect in which we wish to be treated. 

Too often I see writers, so absorbed in their own grandeur, that they begin knocking other writers down.  Writing is a person struggle, a battle against life, a battle against self-doubt, and an occupation that requires a tremendously thick-skin, but one does not need to have other’s egos to become major antagonists in the war that rages within. 

If you feel that you must say something negative, send the author a personal message—your opinion does matter and it may help strengthen the writer.  It is easy in the Facebook age to be discreet and respectful.  Most importantly, please listen to our Mother’s advice, “If you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all.”  

Curse of the Wolf
By Danica Winters


For cursed, shape-shifting Veela, Gloriana, following her heart and giving her body to sexy, tortured werewolf Alexander means one thing-he will die and it will again be her fault.

Once only a man, Alexander finds himself scarred by the memories of his former life and the deceptions and lies that surround him. When a glimmer of light breaks the madness, he must let go of his misguided preconceptions and the hatred that consumes him.

On a mission for blood, they find unity in their desire for revenge, but are driven apart by their pasts. Traveling the darkest paths and fighting the very people they think they can trust, they draw closer to one another's hearts and further into danger.

Will the curse prove to be unstoppable... or is there hope in forbidden love?

          CHAPTER ONE
In her human-like Veela form, Gloriana Canis was at a distinct disadvantage. Her feet pounded against the ground as she ran, she crashed through the underbrush, and tripped upon the branches that reached up to snatch her legs. With a muffled growl, she paused as she forced her body to shift into her more powerful wolfen shape.
Dashing after the intruders, she silently passed beneath the low lying branches and bounded over the roots. Her paws silently ab­sorbed the sounds as the ground blurred beneath her. She saw none of the pack that had invaded her territory, so she lifted her snout and sniffed.
The scent of the gray Werewolf was a mix of triumph, malice, and anger, but there were no traces of fear.
He’s a fool. The thieving Were should feel fear above anything else—because I soon will be upon him.
When she found the beast, she would tear at his soft flesh…the least vital parts first. Before she finished, he would undoubtedly cry for mercy, but no matter how hard he cried, or how desperately he pleaded, he would find none. The man had tried to steal Bal­dur’s Vitam Aeternam, the ring of eternal life, from her. The ring was the final memento of Baldur’s existence, of their fight for love against all odds and the curse that had taken his life. The Were who attempted to take it from her would have no easy death.
Deeper into the woods, the scent of the gray alpha Were less­ened and was replaced by the musky scent of the brown beta she had seen circling the alpha.
Her strides grew more rapid. She was close.
Weaving around a boulder, her body collapsed as the ground gave way. Her paws clawed at the soft earth, desperate to stop the fall, but the dirt crumbled beneath her touch. She yelped in fear as she clawed, but it was too late. Her body flipped into the earth’s open maw.
The stakes ripped into her soft flesh. Hot, searing pain invaded her body.
Howling, she tried to leap, struggle—anything to free her
body—but the motions only drove the stakes deeper, worsening her agony.
A fire burned deep in her flank and she caught the scent of blood on the stakes that now were wedged in her flesh. Hydra blood.
The venom pumped through her veins, she could taste the acrid poison in her mouth. Slowly her vision began to fade. She was forced to find refuge from the pain inside of her mind.
My dearest Goddess, Epione, do not let the curse of the loving Veela take me. I promise that if you let me live, I will find Baldur’s killer and make him pay. Please, please do not deliver my soul to the underworld. I must complete my task.
She could feel the sun rising in the distance. Would this morn­ing be her last?
A light illuminated the grave-like pit.
Expecting a torch-bearing lampade to lead her to the under­world, she was surprised when a tall man appeared with a flash­light in his hand. He stood at the edge of the pit, his other hand on his hip and a scowl on his face.
She growled, but as the rumble escaped her, it was replaced with a yelp.
The thief had returned to finish her.
He reached down to her and said something, but it sounded as if he was talking through water. When he spoke again, she heard him say, “Shifter, I’m Alex…” but the rest of his words were lost in the muffling pain circulating through her body.
She tried to pull away from his touch, but her paws felt like lead weights and she struggled to move.
The pain radiated from the stakes in her flesh. Unable to fight the poison any longer, her eyes closed. Her mind went black.


          (and will soon be available in over 10 other locations)

Author Bio:
Danica Winters is an Amazon best-selling romance author based in Montana. She is known for writing award-winning books that grip readers with their ability to drive emotion through suspense and often a touch of magic. She is a member of Romance Writers of America, Montana Romance Writers, and Greater Seattle Romance Writers. She is a contributor to magazines, websites, and news organizations. She enjoys spending time with friends and family, the outdoors, and the bliss brought by the printed word.

Social Media Links:
Amazon Author Page:

Thanks for stopping today, Danica!


  1. Jacqueline,
    Thank you so much for hosting me on your blog today.
    Danica Winters

  2. It's my pleasure.
    The book sounds like it would fit in on my faves shelf. It's definitely on my TBR list.