Hey! My name is Sable Hunter. I write erotic romances. Most of my books are cowboy themed, but I also write paranormals. I’m originally from New Orleans, Louisiana where I grew up among people that believed in ghosts and practiced hoodoo. Later, I moved to Texas. Now, I am married to a wonderful guy named Jason and we live on a ranch near Austin.

He is a perfect husband for a romance author – because he takes a personal interest in what I do – ESPECIALLY RESEARCHING SCENES – Ha! But, he has always been supportive. When I decided I wanted to write, he made it personal. HE said, “Write me a book, baby. Make it something I’d like to read.” So I wrote about a cowboy that lived in our part of the world. I put him on a ranch similar to ours and patterend his brothers after some of my husband’s friends. Now, they all like to pick at me and ask what their characters are doing. That series is Hell Yeah! and it’s about the McCoy brothers on Tebow Ranch.

Another way that my husband has been supportive is kinda funny. He knows I love ghosty stuff. That’s not exactly his cup of tea – he loves to hunt four legged beasties while I want my prey to go bump in the night. Anyway, I told him that I wanted to go ghosthunting. He looked at me kinda funny and then started asking me some questions. He had never really thought about ghosts, and frankly he was very skeptical. But, he loves me – and that makes all the difference. I told him what I wanted to do – visit some cemeteries, take some pictures, go to some battlefields, etc. He asked me about the equipment that I’d need and then our attention got turned to other stuff.

One day he came home with a big box. He set the box on the bed and kissed me tenderly. I couldn’t believe it! He had bought me a digital camera with infrared settings, a pair of NIGHT VISION GOGGLES, a camcorder with night vision, a digital recorder, an EMF reader and all kinds of cool stuff. Then he told me to be ready because at twelve o’clock midnight – HE WAS TAKING ME GHOSTHUNTING! I hugged him until the stuffing almost came out. I have the sweetest husband in the world!

That night . . . we drove to the nighborhood cemetery. I didn’t really know what to expect, but it was a wild time. We each picked a piece of equipment and then we set off. I had a plan in mind . . . my mom had told me about a group of graves that belonged to a family that was long gone. They had a history of insanity and murder in the family – in fact one of the brothers had killed another one with an axe and another one had committed suicide by jumping in a well! This was the Engle’s family – and that’s right where I went to take pictures. Now, imagine this – we’re creeping through the cemetery – the only light is the light of the moon. Jason is more concerned about me tripping than he is watching for paranormal happenings – but I’m excited.

We get to the Engles graves and everything is very quiet. I’m taking pictures and he’s recording and I’m politely trying to speak to the dearly departed (I read that you get better results this way, if you explain that you’re not there disrespectively, but you just want to record their existence – blah, blah) WHEN OUT OF NOWHERE we hear loud, terrible cracking sound! Now, my hero – Jason, of course – does not panic. But, I do. I set off running toward the truck – dangerously hopping over headstones and around jasmine bushes. Jason was yelling at me to be careful – when he wasn’t snorting his amusement. I got out of the cemetery in record time! I beat Jason out and when he caught up with me – he held me and hugged me and laughed and laughed.

That was the first of our ghost hunting adventures. Since then, we have photographed full body apparitions – (he has one that he took in Vicksburg, Mississippi proudly hanging on his office wall) – at battlefields, private homes, plantations – you name it. We have gotten more proficient and I have gotten braver. But, it has showed me that my Texas cowboy hero is willing to go the extra mile to make me happy.

I use our adventures and stories that we have collected in my books. Let me share an excerpt from Sweet Evangeline with you. Sweet Evangeline is about a family of powerful New Orleans women who practice hoodoo. The youngest, Evangeline, is attending the University of Texas in Austin. She has an assignment in sculpture class to create a statue of the perfect man – and with all that power at her fingertips – she decides to sculpt HER perfect man.

Anyway the recipe is: ONE HUNKY AUSTIN FIREMAN + ONE SEXY WITCH = MAGICK.

Scene One – The class assignment had been to create the perfect man.

As a witch, she should have known better. But it had been so much fun.

No, this wasn’t Hogwarts. The project was for a final grade in the Advanced Sculpting Class at the University of Texas in Austin. And since Evangeline had all of these powers just lying around, she decided to cheat. If she were going to sculpt the perfect man, she wanted it to be her perfect man. After all, it was somewhat a tradition for the women in the Beaureguarde clan to seek out the face of their beloved. Her grandmother, Nanette had seen her grandfather’s face in the waters from an old well that had been dug by slaves down in New Iberia Parish, near Bayou Teche. Why shouldn’t she? All she wanted to do was look. There couldn’t possibly be any harm in that. Could there?

The more she thought about it, the more excited she became. Up to this point in her life, men had just not been a factor. Despite what some would call her wild pagan ways, Evangeline was an old-fashioned girl. She was a romantic. As pathetic as it might sound, she was saving herself for the man of her dreams. And so far, he had kept himself very well hidden. Now, that she had decided to tempt herself with his face, she couldn’t think of anything else. The Summer Solstice was at hand and according to her Book of Shadows, there was no better time.

God, she was hot! She stood in the dark and listened to the creaking of the old house as it settled on its piers. Living off campus hadn’t been a mistake, she needed the room for her sculpting. But still, the nights were almost unbearable. It was the incessant heat! Austin was under a heat wave advisory and the air conditioning did little to cool the poorly insulated house. But that wasn’t the heat that kept Evangeline Martel awake, it was the heat of desire that flowed through her body.

Evangeline cast a circle and then sat down in the middle of it. Despite her initial enthusiasm, this had not been an easy decision. Evangeline knew that love spells were not to be taken lightly. Through the years, she had seen lonely women come to her grandmother, seeking assistance in finding true love or holding on to a man who was ready to pull up stakes and move on. Love spells could back-fire on you. So, Evangeline had to be very careful.

He was out there. She could feel him. Their paths had not crossed; she would have known, she would have recognized him. And she longed to see his face. Tonight, she would.

Sipping a tea made from orange peel and meadowsweet, she closed her eyes and willed herself into a trance like state. Holding her palms upward, she hummed – just a couple of notes – a melodic, poignant repetition that settled her mind and opened her spirit to the powers that surrounded her. When she felt that she had made a connection to the Goddess, she lit a red candle and uncovered the black scrying mirror that lay before her.

Placing her hands over the mirror, but not touching the surface she began to speak.

“Mirror of power, show me his face

Show me my true love, through time and space

Bring me his image, revealed in your light

Share with me, your vision, bring him to my sight.

Slowly, she moved her hands away. At first the surface of the mirror was smooth, but then – it was as if it became fluid and a mist seemed to rise from the depths of the blackness. A light began to glow from deep within the reflection. Evangeline’s heart began to race and her blood was rushing so fast that it roared in her ears. She leaned over the mirror, her long dark hair creating an ebony curtain on either side of her face. “Come on sweetheart, let me see you,” she spoke to him as if he could hear her.

A form began to appear. It moved closer, slowly, as if coming from a long distance. Evangeline closed her eyes, willing him to come to her. “Come on, baby, I’ve waited for you so long.” She opened her eyes. And gasped.

An image was in the mirror. It was a man, and he . . .was . . .beautiful. No human being should be so perfect. “Please, let him be real.” she prayed. He didn’t look real. He looked like an angel. Angel. Until she had a name, that was what she would call him. Hair of gold, eyes of green, a body that Adonis would die for, and he would be hers? “Come to me, love. I can’t wait to hold you.” Her grandmother would faint at the sacrilege, but Evangeline couldn’t help herself, she bent down and kissed the surface of the scrying mirror. Because right now, it was as close as she could get.

Evangeline Martel could never leave well enough alone. Now, that she had seen Angel, she wanted him. As her hands fashioned the clay, they itched to touch his skin. As her fingers molded his muscles, they longed to knead into his flesh. She had it bad. If she were a regular girl, she would have sighed with longing and endured. But she wasn’t. What was the use of possessing ancient tomes of wisdom if they just lay on the shelf to catch dust?

On the second floor of the small house that she rented, Evangeline had made a ‘craft room’. The thought had made her laugh. So many Martha Stewart wannabe’s had craft rooms filled with hot glue guns, paper cutters, beads and such. However, her craft room was different. It was full of herbs, oils, gemstones and candles. A rug lay on the floor that was inscribed with a circle. Next to the window, a small altar sat that held her bell, her Book of Shadows and a beautiful pentagram carved from a sacred oak. Bookshelves lined the walls, each level laden down with books concerning the craft. The types of magick represented were myriad – there was Celtic, Hoodoo, Voodoo, and Santeria – even Egyptian. There were books on the magical uses of herbs and the proper way to use crystals. Far Eastern knowledge was also represented with books on Reiki and chakras. If a spell was needed, Evangeline had no excuse.

Sitting on the floor, she thumbed through a likely volume. Yes, here it was. ’How To Call Your Dream Lover To You’. Perfect.

Evangeline lay alone in her bed and longed for a man.

Not just any man would do, it had to be him. She closed her eyes and willed him to come to her. She wasn’t dreaming, she wasn’t even asleep. Evangeline was wide-awake and desperately hungry for his touch. Her eyes went to the closed door of her bedroom. She imagined that it opened slowly.

Someone was standing there, in the shadows.

‘Oh Goddess, please let it be him,’ she breathed. Then, the figure stepped forward and her body began to tingle. It was Angel! He had heard her heart’s cry. He had come.

Thanks so much for reading.

Come visit me at sablehunter.com

My email address is sablehunter@rocketmail.com

Sable Hunter