I’ve been missing in action from my list groups and from being really active online for quite a while now. But I’m happy to say that I’m back. In the past year and a half I’ve written two non-fiction books for Llewellyn Worldwide, the first of which, titled 365 Ways to Raise Your Frequency releases on January 8 but you can buy now at Amazon at a discounted price and guess what – they’re shipping right now – before the official release date! The second book will be released this time next year. To celebrate the release of my first book with Llewellyn, 365 Ways to Raise Your Frequency (which makes a great gift by the way), I’ve issued a coupon for my Christmas novella, Paradise Designs by Ariana Dupre (my pen name), so you can get it for FREE for the next FIVE days by visiting https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/52926 and entering the coupon code HY38M at checkout . I hope you enjoy the free read and if you order 365 Ways To Raise Your Frequency –Thank you for your support!!
365 Ways to Raise Your Frequency – The soul’s vibrational rate, our spiritual frequency, has a huge impact on our lives. As it increases, so does our capacity to calm the mind, connect with angels and spirit guides, find joy and enlightenment, and achieve what we want in life. This simple and inspiring guide makes it easy to elevate your spiritual frequency every day. Choose from a variety of ordinary activities, such as singing and cooking. Practice visualization exercises and techniques for reducing negativity, manifesting abundance, tapping into Universal Energy, and connecting with your higher self. Discover how generous actions and a positive attitude can make a difference. You’ll also find long-term projects and guidance for boosting your spiritual energy to new heights over a lifetime. For excerpts of this book click here or Buy Here
Paradise Designs by Ariana Dupre
Tara Simms is determined to create a new beginning for herself this holiday season. She’s purchased a new condo on Miami Beach in the ultra chic Paradise Designs Resort and Spa where there is no chance of paranormal activity. She’s left the paranormal at her last apartment but still fights the whispers that have always been part of her life. She refuses to accept the psychic abilities that run in her family and blocks the whispers. She’s looking for a new man and thinks that David Blake, the lead realtor at the high-rise, is a good prospect.
David quickly sends her best laid plans on a roller coaster ride when he tells Tara that Paradise Designs is haunted. An unsolved murder, construction workers who swear they’ve seen a ghost and a newscast featuring the Haunted Hi-Rise confirm her worst fears. When Tara sees the spirit of a woman enter her condo she freaks out. David offers his protection and his apartment. Together Tara and David must solve the murder and help the spirit into the light. By facing the paranormal and her psychic abilities, will Tara find a new beginning filled with love?
EXCERPT (to read reviews click here)
Tara Simms stepped out of the elevator and looked up then down the hallway for the woman who’d shouted. Behind her, the sound of heavy doors sliding together echoed in the corridor. Tara repositioned the takeout container of lasagna and a bag of groceries before grabbing at the purse strap slipping from her shoulder. “Hello. Where are you?”
Maybe it was an echo from another level that had somehow resonated into the elevator shaft. Then again, as the only resident of the fourteenth floor, she couldn’t help but wonder if someone new had moved in.
Help me, Tara.
She almost dropped her dinner.
The voice that had shouted moments ago was now an urgent whisper echoing through her mind.
“No! Get out of my head!” Tara grumbled, gripping the Styrofoam container and plastic bag. The strap fell from her shoulder to wrist and the purse banged against her legs with every step. She let it hang there and hurried to her condo, counting the square patterns woven into the dark green carpet as she walked.
This couldn’t be happening. Not again. Her pulse raced with fear.
Paradise Designs Resort and Spa, a newly constructed high-rise on Miami Beach, had everything a person could ever want in condo living. Located directly on the Atlantic Ocean it boasted an Olympic sized outdoor pool and smaller indoor pool. The bottom floor housed a mini-mall that included a grocery store, several restaurants, a day spa, a gym and retail outlets.
Close to the Miami nightlife, you could walk to the mall, theater and an array of restaurants and nightclubs. She had been one of the first homeowners, since she knew the developer, and chose an ocean and pool view condo on the actual thirteenth floor, even though builders skipped the number thirteen, unit number fourteen-thirteen specifically to face her fears about the paranormal. She’d thought that choosing a number associated with the woo-woo stuff would keep spirits away and the voices out of her mind since avoiding them had never seemed to work. She even decided to make the number thirteen her lucky number. What a stupid idea that had been.
Sixty-eight, sixty-nine, seventy.
It took exactly ninety steps from the elevator to her front door. She knew it by heart, had counted them every day since she moved in a month ago. But today was the first time she’d heard the whispers over the automatic counting.
At the age of five she had realized that counting things kept the voices quiet. For the past twenty years she’d counted to keep her mind busy and ignore the whispers. It was second nature now, an unconscious habit that was constant and consistent in her daily life. She’d tried to stop once before but hadn’t made it more than a few minutes. Every time she let her mind rest, the whispers got louder and she had no intention of letting that happen. She kept her guard up against the spirit world and that’s the way it would stay.
Tara slowed as she neared her condo. The door to the neighboring unit was propped open with a wooden footlocker. Inside, the room was filled with boxes piled in the middle of the beige carpeted floor.
She couldn’t believe that out of all the empty condos on her floor, someone had chosen the one right next door to her. Maybe it was a woman her age. It was nice to know that there was someone right next door if she needed anything. The realtors could have told the new neighbor her name since they were the only people on the floor. Relief washed over her. Maybe she hadn’t heard a voice in her mind after all.
While she was very independent she found a little comfort in knowing that she was no longer alone on the floor. It would be great to make a new friend at Christmastime.
“Hello? Is anyone home?” She peeked in but didn’t see any large pieces of furniture.
An eerie silence was again the only answer.
I must have heard the new neighbors. They might have taken the stairs down for another box, she thought, trying to convince herself that the voice hadn’t been in her head.
Deep inside she knew it wasn’t true.
Who in their right mind would take thirteen flights of steps down to carry boxes back up? Besides, the woman had called her by name. In all likelihood the realtors wouldn’t have shared her name with someone she didn’t know without introducing them first. She pushed the thoughts aside before she worked herself into a panic. She’d come back after dinner and welcome the neighbors to the building.
Tara passed the open door and unlocked her condo. Tossing her purse on the dining room table, she hit the light switch with her elbow and put everything else on the kitchen counter. She crossed the living room to raise the windows facing the ocean. In the graying dusk she watched a speedboat pass by, its engine humming as the front end thumped against the blue waters of the Atlantic. She worked her way across the ocean view windows and then down the side overlooking the pool area. She really couldn’t have picked a better place. The views were amazing and it was only ten minutes from work.
A man was swimming laps. His tanned body sliced through the water with quick even strokes. As he reached the shallow end he stood, revealing an athletic, muscular upper torso. Pushing his wet hair back he looked up at her.
Tara stepped away from the window. No way could he have seen her, yet she felt as if she’d been caught staring just the same. She didn’t recognize him but then again, she didn’t know everyone who’d purchased here either.
Walking to the corner she pressed the floor control of the six foot Christmas tree with her toe. The white lights sprang to life, shimmering off the silver balls and tinsel. Christmas had always been her favorite time of year despite the fiasco last Christmas Eve when her boyfriend had broken their engagement and had given the ring she’d picked out to another girl. This holiday season was a new beginning. She turned on the stereo and soft instrumental carols filled the air.
In the kitchen she put away the groceries, dumped the lasagna onto a plate, grabbed a fork and canned soda and then took her dinner into the living room. Kicking off her shoes, Tara curled up in the corner of the overstuffed leather couch. She rested the plate on her legs and turned the television to the local news with the volume down.
The lasagna smelled delicious. The flavors seemed to drift with the aromatic scent. She cut a corner off with her fork and slipped it into her mouth, savoring the rich tomato sauce and creamy cheeses. She closed her eyes, letting the texture of the flattened noodles tantalize her taste buds.
Ummm, better than sex.
She opened her eyes and looked at the television. A couple kissed in a vacation commercial. She couldn’t even remember what good sex was like. A year of celibacy would do that to you. She watched the man slide his hand down the woman’s back. Tara sighed. If nothing else, she was determined to step out of her self-imposed hibernation and involve herself with a man. What better time to start dating again than on the year anniversary of her failed engagement? With Christmas only a few days away she knew that finding someone she’d like to go out with would be hard but she was determined to keep looking.
The lasagna probably tastes so good because I missed lunch, she reasoned.
Goldstein and Powers International Bank was the most prestigious financial institution on Brickell Avenue. Every day was filled with interesting people. She loved the hustle and bustle of customers coming and going. But today had been torture. Four tellers called in sick with the flu which left the branch severely shorthanded.
I hope I don’t catch it. The last thing she needed was the flu during her vacation next week.
She placed another bite of lasagna in her mouth and glanced at the television. A live shot of her building was on the screen with the caption “Haunted High-Rise”.
What the hell?