The Summoning


ISBN #: 978-1-59578-804-7
Length: Novella
Genre: Paranormal Romance
Heat Level: Hot
Publisher: Liquid Silver Books
Cover Art: April Martinez
Format(s): eBook only
On Sale: Feb. 28, 2011

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The Romance Review


Everything comes with a price …

Gailyn Bridges is a psychic who is ready to end her troublesome career as a private investigator. For the last time, she summons a powerful spirit to help her close a final case.

However, the mysterious entity who answers, Malak, is no ordinary spirit. He’s more than willing to help Gailyn save the would-be victim of a violent crime.

But who’s going to save Gailyn when Malak returns to collect payment for lending her his power?

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“A nice twist on the ghost concept and Malak comes across as way too sexy for someone we can’t even see! This quick read moves along fast and makes for an entertaining evening read.” — VickySizzling Hot Books (4 Hearts)

The Romance Review “I truly enjoyed this story. Gailyn and Malak have an explosive chemistry together […]. Ultimately, this story had it all—a fantastically matched pair of characters,some fascinating paranormal elements, suspense, danger, and plenty of humor!” — Bridget, The Romance Reviews (5 Stars)

“The romance that builds between [Malak] and Gailyn is believable and satisfying. The supernatural details are interesting and well developed and makes the set up quite believable. It’s a brisk read that leaves the reader satisfied and wanting more.” — Liz M., The Romance Studio (4 Hearts)

EXCERPT from THE SUMMONING by Tatiana Caldwell:

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I sighed and lowered myself into the water. There was something alienating about being able to communicate with beings no one could see. It was hard to relate to people while being linked to those that the majority of the world couldn’t hear, feel, or even really believe in. Not even my kind, patient grandparents, who’d raised me after I’d been orphaned, didn’t fully comprehend – or even want to, really – my reality, and what it was like for me to live in it.

The awareness of being silently watched distracted me from my thoughts. I sat up and called out again, with less patience this time. “Who’s there? Is there something you want to tell me?”

Still no response.

I shook my head at my own silliness and concentrating on stopping my limbs from trembling. A spirit couldn’t hurt me. Each one I encountered was generally harmless. But something about this encounter was different than the others. Something more menacing but yet oddly familiar. Intimate. As if this encounter was personal. For weeks I’d felt as if I were being stalked. Not just curiously observed as was usual with those on The Other Side, but genuinely stalked –

perhaps even preyed upon. Like I was desperately sought after to fulfill some critical need. But for something like what?

I tried to tell myself that maybe it just wanted some company. A friend. Certainly, I could understand that. Releasing some of the tension in my shoulders I lathered myself up, drawing slow, soapy circles all over my neck and shoulders. For a few moments I imagined there was a sexy guy in the tub with me, massaging my breasts as he washed them. My nipples grew erect under the bubbles.

Too bad that me and dating just didn’t work out and I was doomed to die as a spinster. So many things in guys’ homes triggered unwanted “sightings”. The last guy, Dennis, mistook my refusal to visit his place as a sign that I was a commitment-phobe. But in reality, I was uncomfortable at his place because the impression left on the cream-colored sheets of his bed by the blonde who spent many nights under and on top of them was strong. And quite fresh. So fresh in fact as to have been left as recent as the very day that I first – and last – visited his place.

The guy before that, Mike, had an entire apartment contaminated by his hordes of sexual

“So, you’ve had quite a number of lovers, hunh?” It was more of rhetorical comment that I meant to mumble to myself, but he heard me. conquests, both male and female. Which might not have been too big of an issue if he had been honest with me about it.

Mike gave me a wide-eyed, innocent look. “Who, me? Nah, I don’t really get down like that. I’ve only had three or four girlfriends in my whole life.”

“Only three or four?” I laughed. “Come on, you don’t have to fudge your numbers for me. I’m not judging you.”

“I’m not fudging, I really haven’t slept with more than a handful of women.”

“And what about men?”

Mike scoffed. “Never! I don’t go that way, I’m strictly into chicks!”

Again, I laughed. Bisexual men, I didn’t particularly have anything against. But I definitely did not like liars. So I had nothing to lose when I replied with, “Did I forget to mention that I’m psychic?”

Apparently what he meant to say was that he was strictly into chicks who were no

t psychic.

The guy before that had a deceased grandmother who’s spirit came along on all of our dates. She told me about how her grandson was not a good catch – James was spoiled, selfish and she wished she’d never left a dime of her money to him.

A guy must be a creep if his own grandma will adamantly badmouth him. After she’s dead!

Thus I was convinced that I wasn’t going to ever find a guy I could both tolerate and be tolerated by. But I was lonely. My only source of affectionate contact was in my dreams. Abnormally intense, vivid, erotic dreams that I always remembered clearly the next day – including every real, full orgasm I experienced in my sleep. But as wild and erotic and hot as they were, dreams were no replacement for the real deal of intimacy. My re

lationships with the dead did not count, either. No offense to any spirits, but I needed someone alive and present to share my life with. I could so use the touch of another’s hands right now,I thought to myself with a sigh as I swished in the tub.

Just then, a breeze made me shiver. But there was no window open and it was early on a hot and humid day in July in Chicago. Again, I listened. And then my bath water suddenly dropped a few degrees, and I had the distinctive sensation that I wasn’t alone in the tub. The coolness wrapped around me, brushing my skin, caressing my body, giving me goose bumps and making the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. Both from arousal and alarm.

“I don’t know who you are, but I know you’re here,” I called out. “Either tell me what you want, or leave me alone.”


As I sat there trembling, a cool touch came to my lips. Lightly at first, then the pressure increased, lingering. Unmistakably a kiss.

This was strange. And it completely freaked me out.

The water in the tub sloshed around violently as I jerked backwards then leapt to my feet. I grabbed my towel and hurried out of the bathroom.

No spirit had ever touched me like that before. Not ever.

Say My Name






ISBN #: 978-1-59578-749-1
Length: Novella
Genre: Fantasy Romance
Heat Level: Hot
Publisher: Liquid Silver Books
Cover Art: Christine Griffin
Format(s): eBook only
On Sale: Aug. 9, 2010

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You’ve never heard the fable Rumpelstiltskin told like this …

Due to her father’s constant bragging, word of Anna Miller’s beauty and virtue piques the interest of King Thomas. Upon taking the boasting of her father too literally, the king of Grimbros imprisons Anna and threatens to kill her and her father if she fails to spin straw into gold.

A mysterious and sensual magical being finds himself drawn to the castle – and the beautiful Anna. He offers his help in exchange for the most intimate, precious gifts she could possibly give. Soon Anna finds herself wanting far more than just his help. But he threatens to consume her and all she holds dear.

Unless she says his name.

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“I adored Say My Name.  It has that inexplicable element of enchantment that can only be captured in an excellent fairytale combined with the divine sensuality of an adult romance.  Say My Name is a delight through and through and I can’t wait to read more of Ms. Caldwell’s work!”
Shayna, Joyfully Reviewed

“This is an enjoyable short story and I look forward to reading more of this author’s work.”
— Maria, Night Owl Reviews

Say My Name is a unique spin on Rumpelstiltskin that is both entertaining and undeniably romantic, and I found it to be a most enjoyable read. ”
— Bobby D Whitney, BookWenches

“Tatiana Caldwell’s writing is superb. The prose flows, and even for a tale that we’ve all heard before, she manages to put a unique spin on it.”
— The Musings of Violette D

“Excellent Read! HOT! The author did a great job taking a fairy tale and adding an erotica twist to it … I  absolutely love it. The story was so good I couldn’t put the book down …”
Ronda Tutt, Bitten by Paranormal Romance

EXCERPT from SAY MY NAME by Tatiana Caldwell:

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Anna frowned as she walked into the room. The guard had spoken the truth; it was not the same testingroom as the evening before.

This one was bigger. And yet it too was filled with straw.

“Don’t tell me I’m supposed to spin all of this straw into gold.”

“Yes, madam, the king expects the room to be full of gold by morning.”

She laughed uncomfortably. What was with this man’s fascination with straw and gold? “More straw, and yet the same number of hours?”

“You should be up to the task. The king has spoiled you on this day.”

Anna scoffed. He hadn’t been spoiling her, he was preparing her for another night of work. Her despise of the king increased twofold as the door was shut and locked, trapping her in a new prison of straw.

She paced the room, wringing her hands together. Instantly, her thoughts went to the magical man who helped her before. “Oh, Goblin, where are you?” she pondered aloud.

“Right beside you,” the deep voice replied.

Anna spun around to face her green-colored savior. “How do you know ahead of time what room he will bring me to?”

“I don’t know ahead of time. I’ve been with you for half the day.”

She narrowed her eyes. “You’ve been spying on me?”

“I prefer to call it watching over you.”

“For what?”

“To ensure no harm comes to you. I do not trust that king.”

She sighed. “Unfortunately, I don’t either.”

“Let me know if you change your mind,” the goblin said, his expression grim, “and wish for me to kill him.”

Anna put her fists on her hips and glared at him. “I said no, Goblin. I don’t want anyone to die. Killing is never right.”

“I suppose not,” he shrugged and sighed. “And getting rid of the king without any in line to take the throne would throw the entire country into chaos.”

Surprised by his response, Anna looked up at him. “Why do you care about the politics of this country?”

“They affect you, do they not? Therefore, my concern about your well-being extends to your country.”

Anna turned her head so that he could not see her cheeks flush. “You act as if you know me well enough to care that much.”

“I feel as if I do. And what I don’t know about you I desire to learn, if you will allow me.”

“I don’t think I would mind that,” she replied, unable to completely keep a soft smile off her face. “But first I need for my father and me to be freed. And to do that I believe I should give this lunatic what he wants, regardless of how much I despise it.”

“And how may I help you with that? Tell me what you want me to do, and I will do it.”

“At the moment I need help again spinning gold. Will you do that for me?”

He nodded. “And in return?”

Anna sighed, blowing a few strands of her hair away from her face in the process. Everything in this world seemed to come with a price. But what else did she have that would be of value to this being? She looked down at her right hand. “I have this ring.”

He glanced at it. “It doesn’t appear very valuable. What’s so special about it?”

“It was my ma-ma’s.” She paused to finger it with nostalgia and sadness. “She gave it to me on my sixteenth birthday, moments before she passed away.”

Goblin hesitated, and she could see a sympathetic shadow cross his face, as if he too were saddened by her loss. Pain gripped her heart as she felt the unspoken sentiments of this mystical non-human through his expression and body language. She did not flinch away as he approached her, his eyes locked on the ring, as he took her hand in his and lifted it to his face.

“Then with my sincerest appreciation I will accept this ring as payment,” he said. He pulled the ring off and then placed a kiss upon the finger from whence it came.

Anna did not know what gave this being the right to put his hands and mouth on her whenever the urge struck him. But more importantly, she did not know why she was tolerant of it.

And aroused by it, even. So very, thoroughly aroused.

When he took her finger between his thick, moist lips and suckled it, she gasped as the sensation jolted her. Her hand trembled but he steadied it, drew it deeper into his mouth and sucked it harder, all the while backing her into a corner. She clutched at his shoulders to hold herself up on her wobbling legs, and he slid a knee between her thighs to anchor her against the wall. Warmth and moisture flooded there, and an aching in her gut soon followed. A soft groan escaped from her lips.

He removed his lips from her finger so that he could clasp them upon her mouth.

Both her body and mind whirled. She only just met this wild man a day ago, yet felt trusting of his words, comfortable pressed against him, and open for his kiss. And with crazy, blind abandon she passionately kissed him back, grabbing hold of the back of his spiky hair.

“I don’t even have a name to call you by,” she rasped.

“Then give me one,” he breathed into her mouth.