Thursday, April 13, 2017

Cloak and Mirrors by P.M. Terrell Guest Post, Excerpt & Giveaway

Cloak and Mirrors
by P.M. Terrell


GENRE:   Suspense



CIA operatives Vicki Boyd and Dylan Maguire are back in the 6th book of the award-winning Black Swamp Mysteries Series. Vicki and Dylan journey to Ireland for their honeymoon and while they are there, they agree to pick up a package from a Russian spy containing plans for Russia's latest stealth technology. But when the Russian decides to defect, they find themselves trying to get him safely out of the country. They also discover the Kremlin has uncovered their identities and now Vicki and Dylan flee across the island. With breathtaking descriptions of Ireland's rugged coast and the Northern Lights, romance and suspense come together again.


Excerpt One:

Dylan set the kettle on to boil and made his way to the kitchen door. He opened it quietly, lest he awaken Vicki, and stepped outside onto the small stoop. It was half past seven but the skies were still dark; it would be another hour before the sun had fully risen. It had rained during the night, leaving behind a heady perfume of wet sod and sweet winter jasmine.

His eyes traveled the length of the tree-lined winding drive, watching the branches dip as though bowing to an invisible monarch. He wasn’t able to see beyond the far lawn; a person could be standing just on the edge of the grass and the mists would obscure him completely. But that’s the way it was here in Ireland, he thought. The mists and the fogs could morph in front of one’s eyes and if he allowed himself to go there, they would take his mind into places better left alone.

A sudden gust rounded the corner of the house and struck him fully and for the briefest moment, his weight was shifted to his toes as he fought to keep his balance. Ah, the wind, he thought as he settled again. She was as much a part of Ireland as the rain. Never referred to as it, it was always she: She’s a blustery one today or She must be sleepin’, she’s so slow. She because the winds were just like a mistress: they could wrap their cool arms around you and calm your nerves; they could give you that extra push up the hill or propel you down one; or they could change in an instant from cajoling to wicked, catching you when you were least prepared. And then there were the lazy winds; the winds that rolled in from the Atlantic or the North Sea on a bitter winter day; lazy because they wouldn’t take the time to go around you, they’d go straight through you instead.

He looked up, registering the gray clouds against the dark skies. She’s comin’ in from the Atlantic, he thought as he watched them roil and tumble toward the east. But there was no more rain in her, at least not now; perhaps later in the day, there would be a mist or two. Now, she was simply playing; skittering across the fields, rippling the grasses, awakening the sheep and the cows as they were set out to pasture half-groggy with sleep.

The teakettle began to whistle and reluctantly, he moved back inside and removed the kettle from the massive stove. He would keep the stove on for awhile, at least; it helped to chase away the chill that inevitably found its way into every nook and cranny. Besides, there was breakfast to be made.

While his tea steeped in a china cup, he placed another peat brick in the fire. The fireplace was along the wall between the kitchen and the living area and visible from both rooms. His eyes dropped to the bearskin rug that lay rumpled in the living area.

He could still see Vicki lying there as she had last night, the fur soft against her skin, the glow from the fire illuminating her curves, her long hair tumbling over her breasts. He had kissed and licked her nipples until she was writhing under him; he had followed those curves with kisses, spreading her legs to find her filled with desire. She had pulled him down to her, her moans filling the air, her fingers threading through his hair, kneading his back, feeling his want. The world around them ceased to exist, his vision filled only with her: amber eyes radiant, silky skin glistening, legs that wrapped him in a cocoon of love.


AUTHOR Bio and Links:

p.m.terrell is the pen name for Patricia McClelland Terrell, the award-winning, internationally acclaimed author of more than 20 books in several genres, including suspense, historical and non-fiction. Prior to becoming a writer, she owned two computer companies in the Washington, DC with a specialty in combatting computer crime. Her clients included the CIA, Secret Service and Department of Defense. Technology is often woven through her suspense thrillers. Terrell is of Irish descent, and Ireland often figures prominently in her books as well. She has been a full-time author since 2002 and currently travels between her home in North Carolina and Northern Ireland, the home of her ancestors. She is also the founder of Book ‘Em North Carolina’s Writers Conference and Book Fair ( and The Novel Business (

Buy links – will be provided prior to March 17.

Guest Post:

Thank you for having me here today. A little bit about myself: I was born in Washington, DC and lived most of my life in the north, but in the 1960’s my father, an FBI Agent, was transferred to the Mississippi Delta. It was a violent time of synagogue bombings, lynchings and intimidation and my father was sent to Greenville to be in charge of the office protecting civil rights. I was ostracized at school because Mississippians wanted the Yankees to go home, and when the principal at my school saw how lonely I was, she suggested that I write. That one piece of advice changed my life.

It wasn’t until 1984 when my first book was published that I considered myself to be an author. I always wanted to write fiction, a combination of suspense and romance, but my earliest books were nonfiction. By 2002, my first suspense was published and I began writing full-time. Prior to that, I had founded and operated two computer companies in the Washington, DC area; my specialty was computer crime. My clients included the CIA, Secret Service and Department of Defense, though my favorite assignment was writing programs to detect Medicare fraud, which saved the government millions of dollars. Technology has been a theme throughout my contemporary suspense.

My father always talked about my Neely ancestry and in 2007, I wrote the first book about my ancestor, Mary Neely, who had been captured by Shawnee warriors in 1780 near Fort Nashborough (now Nashville, TN). That book was Songbirds are Free, and it caused me to become much more interested in my family’s history. Eventually that quest would take me to Ireland, where my sister and I discovered our ancestral home in Ballygawley, County Tyrone, Northern Ireland. As a result of my visits to Ireland, that country has become much more prominent in my writing—including my latest book, Cloak and Mirrors, in which Irishman Dylan Maguire, a CIA operative, marries Vicki Boyd, a psychic spy, in his boyhood village. They embark on a honeymoon in Donegal, which is where my ancestors lived in 1608. I am writing a new series now about my ancestors; it turns out that they were present during some extraordinary history in Ireland, a time of palace intrigue, crosses and double-crosses, war and romance. The first book in that series is due out later this year.

Thank you for having me here today!



P.M. Terrell will be awarding Celtic necklace containing the Tree of Life. USA only to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour.

a Rafflecopter giveaway


  1. Your books are always exciting, P.M. Thanks for putting so much time and effort into creating them for us.

    1. Thank you so much for following the tour, Fran! I am a big fan of your books. It seems we're both pulled to the same region - Ireland and Scotland are not that far apart.

  2. Thank you for hosting me here today. I'll be checking in later and answering any questions anyone might have for me.