Thom Collins's Blog, page 5

Blitz: Taken by A.L Long

Last Chance Series, Book 3Erotic Romantic SuspenseDate Published: August 2019


“If we could never be together, I would forever remember his touch.”


Alannah’s life was right on track. She knew what it meant to love and be loved. All of that changes when Winston Nelson steps back into her life and takes away everything she longed for. Hidden away where no one can to find her, Alannah once again has to submit to the man she swore would never control her again. Day by day, the hopes of a normal life begin to disappear along with her desire to live




Other Books in The Last Chance Series:



SlavedLast Chance Series, Book 2Published: June 2019

“I could feel her heart beateven though we were miles away”
Rescued from the only life she had ever known, Alannah Jackson learns what it means to be loved and not controlled. Finally able to let go of her past she begins a new life with the man who has shown her what love is. Faced with the truth, Alannah finds she can never escape her past or who she is. She will never love, only serve.
Roman’s love for Alannah is tested when he finds that she has been slaved by a man just as ruthless as Winston Nelson. Against his better judgement, he accepts Martin Holland’s offer to help retrain Alannah and he begins to question the love they shared. After Martin Holland makes it clear of his intentions, Roman stops at nothing to get her back. There is no room for another man in her life.
Contains adult content 18+


Amazon





BoughtLast Chance Series, Book OnePublished: April 2019The last memory that Alannah ‘Lanie’ Jackson has of her father is the day he went away. Hidden away in an attic from the rest of the world, the only thing that Alannah ‘Lanie’ Jackson can hold on to is the memory of her father and the hope that one day he will come for her. Every day that passes, the memory of her childhood disappears and she learns that her only purpose now is to please. Trained to act a certain way, the day comes when she can finally be free. She only hopes that the man who purchases her will be kinder than her current master.
Amazon



About the author:


Award-winning Author of the Independent Press Award and NYC Big Book Award. A.L. Long is also the recipient of the National Indie Excellence Award.
My love for writing began several years ago after an early retirement from a demanding job that I loved, but also hated because it consumed so much of my time. Now, I am able to focus my time on what I love. Writing romance has been a life long dream and to actually say that I am a published author is beyond what I would have ever expected.
Even though some may say I have a little naughtiness in my books, I look at it as an added bonus for my readers. After all what is a romance book without a little spice.
When I am not writing, I enjoy spending time with friends either at home or out on the town. Mostly, I enjoy a relaxing night at home where I can enjoy a glass of wine in the company of a good book.



Contact Links
Website   Twitter   Facebook    Promo Link   


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Free Book Blitz: Ruckus by Zoe Dawson

SEAL Team Alpha, Book 1Romantic Suspense

Promo Special – Currently Free in ebook format at all online retailers.



For U.S. Navy SEAL, Bowie “Ruckus” Cooper, going on a mission into the most dangerous place on earth wasn’t new, neither were the orders to tag and bag an international criminal, but when Bowie finds a captive American reporter, that wasn’t exactly run of the mill. Neither was getting separated from his team, teaming up with her or protecting her against all odds, while working to keep his hands from around her neck and off her delectable body.


Other Books in the SEAL Team Alpha Series:



Kid Chaos
SEAL Team Alpha Book 2


Cowboy
SEAL Team Alpha Book 3


Tank
SEAL Team Alpha Book 4


Blue
SEAL Team Alpha Book 5


Scarecrow
SEAL Team Alpha Book 6


Wicked
SEAL Team Alpha Book 7


Hollywood
SEAL Team Alpha Book 8


Dragon
SEAL Team Alpha Book 9





Excerpt
Turbo, Columbia, South America

Heading into the world’s most dangerous jungle hadn’t  been on Dana Sorensen’s radar until months ago when she’d gotten an email from her dying mother asking Dana to do something for her. Tell these peoples’ stories. Let the public know what was happening. It had been the last correspondence Dana had received before her mom, her brave, beautiful, accomplished mom had lost her fight with cancer.
As a surgeon involved with Doctors Without Borders, her mom had met and married Dana’s dad, who was a nurse also serving with them. She often wondered if she could even live up to her mom’s ability to be so selfless. Even as the tears moistened her eyes, Dana tried to tell herself that she had no way of knowing her mom was going to go so fast, before Dana could get home. And, with guilt pressing in from all sides, eating at her, the grief still fresh, Dana was going to fulfill her mom’s dying wish. Come hell or high water.
She’d pitched her mom’s story to the editor for Trek Magazine about migrants traveling through the Darién Gap to make it from Colombia to Panama, then up through the Central American peninsula with the final destination the US. It had all stemmed out of her mom’s last trip to Asia where she’d found out that a lot of migrants were heading through South America to bypass the routes that had dried up due to stronger restrictions. And it wasn’t just Asia, but a slew of foreigners looking for a better life free from war and persecution.
But here she was standing on a dock in Turbo, Colombia, a disreputable port town rife with violence on the coast of Colombia and in the horseshoe of the Gulf of Urabá to fulfill her mom’s wish. It was just before dawn, the sun nothing but a glimmer on the horizon. She waited for a boat that would take her and her crew into the Darién Gap, a place that was teeming with dense jungle, dangerous wildlife, impenetrable swamps, wary guerrillas, intense paramilitary, deadly drug traffickers, disreputable guides and no marked trails.
The Darién might be a ten-thousand-mile swath of inhospitable land, but Dana was a correspondent who, due to her mom and dad’s noble example, had given up reporting about the war in exchange for pieces on the human condition. She was now a writer, photographer, filmmaker and contributing editor to International Humanitarian Journal. From her war correspondent experience, she could handle stressful encounters and dangerous people as situations that were all in a day’s work. She’d had some harrowing experiences in her life, but had gotten the story every time. This piece was timely, a hot button and would allow her to showcase what people would do for freedom and a better life along with keeping her promise to her mom. But going into the Gap was risky. She was well aware of the dangers, but had never let that stop her before. These stories needed to be told.
She needed to tell them.
There were several people with her from her film company, along with porters heading to Domingodo to meet up with a representative from the Revolutionary Armed Forces of Colombia or FARC, Cuba-backed guerrillas who had been at war with Colombia since 1964. They controlled the most direct route through the Gap, and it would be her best chance of meeting and talking to migrants attempting the crossing. Permission had been obtained from an official in Havana to pave the way for her and her crew to do this timely story.
The soft drone of an outboard motor broke the predawn quiet. James Quinn, a freelance videographer she’d hired to document the trip leaned over and said, “Are you ready for this?”
She smiled. “I was born ready.” He and her South African producer and naturalized American, Liam Nelson were the two crew members accompanying her on the trip. Her cell chimed and she pulled it out of her cargo pants and read the screen. Jeffrey. He had been calling ever since she’d left San Diego and her office to make this trip.
She hit the accept button and said, “Hi, there.”
“Dana, geez woman, you’ve been a hard one to get a hold of. I really needed to talk to you before you left. It was important.”
“I know, but the okays came through for this trip and I had to go. You understand.”
He sighed heavily. “I do. I know how much your mom meant to you.” At his words, her eyes filled, and she worked at not losing it. “Look I’d be the first one to say what you do is great. You have more courage than some men I know. I would never stand in the way of that, but—”
“I know, and I promise to make time when I get home.”
She wiped her slick palm on her pants. Why was this simple conversation with Jeff making her palms sweat? She swallowed and kept her voice nonchalant. Because she had been sure that he was going to pop the question. That’s what he wanted to talk to her about—getting married. She wasn’t sure she was ready for that. If she would ever be ready for that.
She squeezed her eyes closed on that thought, the unnamed emotion clogging her chest. Every time she thought about marriage it would crop up like some kind of plague. She’d been in some pretty scary situations, so why did marriage make her want to run for the hills like a scared little girl?
“Promise?” he said.
“Promise,” she replied. The motor boat pulled up beside the dock along with another boat whose engine had been drowned out by their transportation. It was a ferry to Sapzurro and Capurganá where migrants could then traverse overland to La Miel, Panama. These migrants weren’t forced to go through the Gap as they had documentation that would allow them to pass without a problem. That wasn’t the route of her story.
People without documentation were forced to hire coyotes, part of the Clan Los Piratas who would charge between five hundred to seven hundred dollars, and transport them in poorly maintained boats, often leaking. But were also notorious for conscripting migrants as mules, then disposing of them.
That was her story.
The most dangerous clan in the area, Clan Los Piratas was a neo-paramilitary group with upwards of twenty thousand members. Dana had read that they had murdered several Americans, many DEA agents in the area and were on the US government’s list. They had a stronghold in the Darién Gap, but she was confident they wouldn’t bother them with their FARC approval and their sanctioned story about the migrants.
Even as the sun rose and the misty jungle lay like a dense, dark giant across the river, she shivered in the steamy air.
As her crew loaded up their gear into the motor boat, Dana disconnected the call. She’d worry about Jeff when she got home. She didn’t need distractions on this trip. After meeting their contact, Captain Enrique Escobar, a middle-aged, dark-haired man with gray at the temples and in his close-cropped beard, his sharp eyes and features telling Dana he had seen plenty in the Gap. During the dire week, with the constant threat of robbery, kidnapping, and death, he and his men hiked the route, while she and her crew recorded one of the world’s most dangerous journeys. She and her crew had hacked through spiderinfested mangrove swamps, walking for days in muggy, ninety degree temperatures, the migrants surviving on crackers and gulping river water. Each of these people—a man from Jafar,  Bangladesh trying to escape its cutthroat political gangs and miserable working conditions; another Bangladesh woman, not much more than a girl—a rural laborer who’d gone to the jam-packed cities for work and found herself locked in the bowels of unlicensed garment factories working for twenty cents an hour; and countless others, Syrians, West Africans, and Cubans. She’d interviewed many of them who told their heartbreaking stories. She and her crew documented everything on memory cards and they were carefully kept in a waterproof bag in her pack. By accident, she found some old footage of her and her mom when she’d met up with her overseas and interviewed her for a piece that had never been aired. Stupidly, she’d forgotten about it and realized this was her only copy. She’d edit this and get it aired when she got home. She’d contact someone she knew at 60 Minutes or National Geographic who would jump at the chance. Once they reached their destination, they were stopped by Senafront, Panamanian soldiers who guarded the border, the travelers’ hopes of freedom and respite were dashed. The migrants were denied entry into Panama, everything they had suffered and endured had been in vain. Fighting her sense of justice, she tried to tell the Panamanian patrol what kind of journey they had made, how courageous they had been. The officer was sympathetic, but he had no choice, he had to follow orders. There was nothing she could do. All that was left for her was to tell their story, document their journey so that their efforts meant something. A painful discomfort under her sternum along with a healthy dose of guilt suffused her as she boarded a piragua to take them to Panama City and the airport for their trip out of the Gap. Home to San Diego to civilization, concrete and glass, teeming with urbanites. But her uneasiness wouldn’t go away. She tried to think about processing this film and documenting the trip. Her heart was heavy, real sorrow for the plight of the people she’d gotten to know so well in the week of traveling with them through the dangerous and deadly Gap, an emptiness deep inside she couldn’t name for fear of… what?
As a storm came up quickly and violently out of the south, they were forced to pull to the bank to wait it out. Dana pitched her waterproof tent and settled inside, lying down on her side. As the leaded sky darkened, she fell into a fitful sleep.
She woke to the crack of gunfire, screaming and running feet. Before she could move, a gun was shoved into her back. She looked over her shoulder at the merciless dark eyes of the man holding the weapon.
“Hello, Dana Sorenson. I’ve got a job for you.”
Before she could gasp a response, he had her out of the tent.
“Who are you?” she demanded. “What do you want?”
“Oh, before too long you will know who I am and what I want.”
A black hood descended cutting off light and hope.

When she fought, someone clipped her on the back of the head and she fell to the ground.
She’d been taken.
Kidnapped.


About the Author

Zoe Dawson, the author of 40+ books had always dreamed of becoming a full-time romance writer. Her other passions include traveling the world, owning a beach house (she believes she was a mermaid in another life), and seeing her books in movies. When she’s not writing, she’s painting or killing virtual MMORPG monsters in World of Warcraft. She lives in North Carolina with her two grown children and one small, furry gray cat.


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Book Blitz: and Give Away Let Me by K.V. Rose

New Adult Dark RomanceDate Published: 9/3/2019

“Let me,” he says, voice low, his hand running up my thigh.“You hate me,” I whisper, knees trembling.He smiles against my throat. “I don’t need to love you for this, Riley. Let me.”
Love and hate are merely two sides of the same coin. And I hate Riley Larson. She's responsible for my little brother's death. She played us both, all those years ago. And she drove him to the edge.I've spent all this time avoiding her, loathing her, wishing to get her back for what she did.
And now, she's back in my city. And finally, I can get vengeance for my brother.
She did always like to be scared.
No cliffhanger, can be read as a stand-alone. Dark romance, only suitable for those 18+.


Excerpt
I touched her.
I can still feel her throat under my hand, even though she’s long gone. With any luck, she’ll be on a plane back to the States. Maybe already there by now, because it’s nearly midnight. The bass downstairs from Dad’s annual summer party is pumping, and people are drunk as hell, acting sloppy, and I’m in my old bedroom, and I know Mom is in hers, too.
I don’t know why Dad throws this party.
Actually, I do know. It comes with owning half of the real estate market in Toronto and wanting to show off what that means. I’ll be leaving in the morning, of course. I only came for Mom. I don’t give a fuck about Dad, just as he never gave a fuck about Jack.
She thinks I don’t know.
She thinks I don’t know the scheme she cooked up with my dad. She thinks I don’t know he pushed her to me, but I do. What I don’t understand is what he gave her as an incentive. She seemed to really love Jack. They seemed happy together. And yeah, sure, I thought she was beautiful—she still is, if I’m trying to be honest with myself—but I was happy for Jack.
My throat feels tight.
I shake out my hands, trying to get the feel of her off of my skin. It sickens me that when my hand was on her throat, when that fear slid into her eyes, I felt good. Not just because her life was, quite literally, in my hands, but because…
I shake my head and lay back in bed, tapping my fist to my mouth and closing my eyes. I can’t think about her. In the three years since Jack died, I’ve tried so hard not to think about her. When I do, it eats me alive. Knowing that, even though I blame her, and even though, eventually, I’m going to hurt her as bad as she’s hurt me, it was my fault too.
I fell for her. 


About the Author
K is an author of dark romance living in Toronto. She enjoys iced coffee, hot men, and everything in black. To follow K and her adventures in dark delights, head to AuthorKVRose.com, or find her on Facebook at facebook.com/authorkvrose.

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Millin MIles Away by Alice Bane

Sci-fi/Romance/New AdultDate Published: Oct 5th 2019Publisher: VisualBee Publishing


I won’t bore you with details about the mysterious medical issues I’ve had over the last year;
the sudden severe allergies to food and medication, the sleep paralysis. All I’ll tell you is that they turned my life upside down.
But I’m a rational person.
Naturally, I assumed that my mind was playing tricks on me when I saw the strange figures standing over me.
But it felt so freakishly real;
especially one face in particular that always stayed with me long after I woke up.
Something about him always drew me in and I knew he was different. He made me feel different.
All my life, romance has felt like something that was reserved for everyone but me. I’d accepted that the only love in my life would be experienced through my artwork.
Now I’m questioning everything I know about myself, about reality, and especially about love.








EXCERPT from Chapter 1
…
The girls would always tease me about how put together my life was. Sure, it looked good on paper; top-rated artist in my department, an amazing house which I always kept immaculate, and when I wasn’t working, I was at the gym. They seemed to think that I had a perfect life. They had no idea how much I envied them. They both had incredible relationships with gorgeous men who doted on them endlessly. They were always commenting on how jealous they were of my body, but they also never missed a chance to eat delicious foods that I couldn’t so much as smell without getting sick. They didn’t realize that my house was always clean because it was empty and sterile; just like the rest of my life.
I didn’t even have a pet. Ever since little Ivan died, I accepted that I wasn’t pet owner material. If I couldn’t keep a goldfish alive, what chance did I have with a more complex and emotionally dependent animal? Besides, with my work schedule, it would be cruel to even try.
“Before we get started with what we’ve got on today, I need to ask you guys a really important favor,” Abiola said, circling the desk to take both mine and Laura’s hands in hers. “The two of you have been such a huge part of my life. You’ve been there for me through all my family drama and I couldn’t love you more if you were my flesh and blood sisters.”
“Abi,” Laura pushed out her bottom lip. “That’s the sweetest thing you could possibly say.”
“Well, I would be so honored if the two of you would be my bridesmaids this spring. Please say yes!”
The three of us all wrapped our arms around each other in a sickeningly sweet display of female solidarity. I forced a smile and swallowed the lump in my throat as I imagined walking down the aisle on the arm of some random groomsman who had a wife or girlfriend somewhere in the church. This would be the second time I was a bridesmaid at someone’s wedding. The old saying ‘three times a bridesmaid, never a bride’ rang out in my mind.
“I would love to be a bridesmaid at your wedding,” Laura crooned.
I mustered the minimal amount of excitement I could get away with for the situation and said, “Me too. I love you, woman,” then patted Abiola on the back.
Abiola nodded and wiped at eyeliner from beneath her watering eyes. She was an old soul with a soft heart. She spent her weekends volunteering at a children’s group home. That was where she met her fiancé Trevor, and they bonded over their dysfunctional family situations. They would probably adopt a bunch of foster kids right after their wedding and live happily ever after. She deserved that; it was all she ever wanted.
“Okay ladies,” Abiola clapped her hands. “Today we’re looking for something we can use for the promotion of the OSA campus, which will be opening next year in Portland, Oregon. Boss says our primary focus is to attract engineering and architectural students for the Lunar-retreat that’s in the works.”
“So, where do we start?” Laura said, looking right at me.
“I am going to need to work up some concept drawings for the Lunar Resort. Also, if you could give me the clearest photos of the most beautiful views the Lunar Surface has to offer, that would be cool to show exactly what the students should be aspiring to be a part of. I want to see some dramatic landscapes with visible craters, maybe some rock formations. Anything to pull people in.”
“I’m on it,” Laura nodded and sat down at her touch responsive computer.
“I’ll go to engineering to get permission to use blueprints of the resort that you can use to make the concept drawings,” Abiola said, then turned and headed towards the elevator.
It was an exciting project. I used to fantasize that by the time I was ready to retire, I would be able to cash in on all the vacation time I had accrued and maybe even spend a few of my golden years at that resort. The thought of waking up in the morning and looking out the window to see the Earth just as we see the moon from down here always gave me a sense of calm.
Four hours later, all final decisions had been made on what I wanted to use on the project. Right on cue, my trusty assistants started complaining that they were starving to death.
“If I don’t get some corned beef nachos in me in the next ten minutes, I might actually die,” Laura said and stood up dramatically from her desk.
“I want waffles and bacon,” Abiola rubbed her belly.
I sighed at the memory of bacon; I would probably just have some raw vegetables and berries. I was still looking at my screen and inspecting one of the photos, trying to decide on how I would alter the image to bring it to life. My eyes burned. I clenched them shut and rubbed them, forcing them to rest. Eye strain was the enemy and this day was proving to be particularly difficult since I had hardly slept the night before. I couldn’t shake my anxiety about today’s social gathering after work. Stress and lack of sleep usually meant a big fat migraine, which was the last thing I needed at Laura’s party.
“I’m going to head to the chill room. I need a nap more than anything.”
“You better be rested for tonight’s festivities,” Laura wagged her finger at me.
“I’ll bring my party face, I promise,” I said. I stood up but couldn’t stop the oncoming yawn. “The fatigue is killing me.”
“Yeah, no coffee or sugar in your morning will do that to you,” Abiola said with a shake of her head. “I don’t know how you do it.”
“Well, it’s easy since a cup of coffee could put me in the hospital again, I guess.”
“Jesus,” Abiola pressed her fist to her mouth. “I didn’t mean to…”
“It’s fine, Abi,” I assured her. “I just need to get a little rest.”
The two girls headed down to the food court while I made my way to the sleeping pods. White, plush, and stacked like a honeycomb, they were an inviting image that screamed comfort. I smiled and breathed a sigh of relief to find my favorite lower level pod was unoccupied. Turning on the sound system, I selected a playlist I knew I could sleep through. Sometimes I would choose guided meditation tracks or audiobooks. Today’s selection was soft cello. Something about the deep tones helped me unwind no matter what was on my mind. I settled in, turning on the heated cushions and closing my eyes.
I practiced the deep breathing exercises the doctor had taught me as I pictured myself floating through a dark endless sky toward the moon’s surface. The pictures I had looked at for over four hours served to be the subject of my meditation. I inhaled deeply, focusing on relaxing my arms and legs. Exhaling, I imagined moving further out into space. In… and out…
As soon as sleep found me, I was swept up in a flurry of blinding light. My stomach turned as the light began strobing violently, causing me to feel disoriented. My body tensed as I realized it had been several weeks since I’d had an episode. Right on schedule, it hit me like a ton of bricks.
Oh no, no, no, no… I can’t deal with this right now, not at work!
I struggled to wake myself, I couldn’t move. The cold sensation of a smooth metallic surface beneath me was confusing. I felt my fingertips twitch as I tried desperately to flail any and all limbs that might respond to my will, but my body remained where it was. I strained to sit up or scream, but I couldn’t even open my mouth. I was trapped, overwhelmed by the weight of my chest collapsing in on itself. If I didn’t put every ounce of will I possessed into sucking air through my nostrils, I had a very real fear that my body would simply shut down, leaving my body as a cold stiff corpse which might be found hours later in my cozy little pod. Filling my lungs with intention, I gasped for air, breath after panicked breath, hoping someone would notice and wake me.
The strobing intensified for what felt like several minutes and when it finally stopped, there remained a constant blinding light that made my eyes water. Tears streamed from the outer corners of my eyes into my ears.
“Help… me…” I managed to whisper to no one in particular.
From the edge of my vision, a blurry figure leaned over me.
“Please,” I sobbed, trying to turn my head to get a better look at who it was, but I couldn’t.
My chest burned as my heart pounded out of control. I tried to calm myself by reciting the scientific facts about what I knew was happening.
During REM sleep, your muscles are essentially turned off to keep you from sleepwalking. When a person wakes up during REM, they are fully conscious but completely paralyzed. Usually, physical stimulation from someone rubbing or shaking them will pull the victim out of the purgatorial state. Unfortunately, living alone means I have no one to rescue me during these episodes, which can sometimes last for hours.
 “Just close your eyes. Everything will be okay,” a distorted voice spoke through the fog of my half-conscious state.
Maybe my brain is morphing the cello music into a voice. Sleep paralysis is often accompanied by waking dreams or hallucinations, after all.
I thought I could force myself to come out of it but, instead, I moved even deeper into unconsciousness. It wasn’t like falling, but more like being underwater and sinking slowly. I struggled against what felt like a chemically induced calm. I tried again to force myself awake but couldn’t. The darkness swallowed me up and I finally surrendered to it.
To my surprise, I suddenly found myself vividly aware of two things; one, the fact that I was breathing without much effort, and two, I was no longer in my cushioned sleeping pod, but rather stretched out flat on my back on a cold metal surface. All efforts to move just made me realize that what I was experiencing was very different from the sleep paralysis I was familiar with. I could move my fingers and flex my wrists and feet. There were actual physical restraints fastened around my wrists, neck, forehead, and ankles that were preventing me from moving.
Blinking hard, I strained to look around at my surroundings. The entire room was reflective as if every surface and object was made from surgical steel. It was shockingly cold, almost like the inside of a walk-in refrigerator. I grunted, twisting my wrists in hopes that I could slip out the straps.
There was a continuous hum that was so low I didn’t hear it so much as felt it vibrating through my entire body. There was a spherical light that seemed to be floating in the air a few feet over me. The ceiling was high above that and almost too dark for me to make out anything but the vague shape of what might have been a reflection of myself and the rest of the room around me. I strained to see past the light so I could study what else I could make out in the reflective ceiling. My heart pounded in my ears as my attention was drawn to a distorted human shape in the darkness at my side.
A chill spread through my body as I realized that someone, or something, was quietly watching me struggle but I couldn’t for the life of me work out who, as the silhouette disappeared from my view the moment I noticed it. Even when I turned my eyes as far as I could, the dark corners of the room remained completely obscured. Regardless of the deafening silence and the fact that I couldn’t see anyone, I knew someone was there.





About the Author


Alice Bane holds a BSc and a voracious interest in all things extra-terrestrial. Self-identifying as a citizen of the universe, she has opted to travel the cosmos through her words. Million Miles Away is her debut Sci-Fi Romance novel.


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The Danger Dance by Caro Soles

The Merculians, Book 1Space Opera, LGBT Science FictionPublished: March 2019Publisher: Crossroad Press


Life and death action and intrigue aboard a military space vessel!
A startling command from the dreaded Praetan brings chaos into the tranquil lives of hermaphrodites Eulio and his lover Orosin. Using the tour of the Merculian National Dance Company where Eulio is a star as cover, they board the Wellington, a militaristic starship that values nothing they believe in. Someone is passing secrets about fleet movements and weaponry to the enemies in the Troia, but the efforts of the two Merculians to unmask the spy only stir up a toxic mix of hatred and violence. Who will have to die before the Praetan is satisfied? The Danger Dance is a futuristic space adventure with enough swashbuckling action and intrigue to keep even the most jaded science fiction addict enthralled.


Praise for The Danger Dance
“A crackerjack SF novel—moving, eloquent, and richly textured. I recommend it highly.” —Robert J. Sawyer, award-winning science fiction writer

"A tingling subversity of gender, sexuality and goosebumping excitement. Even better, Soles can rally write, with wit, sensuosity and depth.” —Perry Brass, author of The Harvest, Angel Lust, etc.

“A well written novel, full of sexual and political intrigue, it grips from the very first page and is difficult to put down.” —Annette Gisby, author of Silent Screams.


Other Books in The Merculians Series:



The Abulon DanceThe Merculians, Book 2Publisher: Crossroad PressPublished: July 2019
While on tour to the mysterious planet Abulon, the pleasure-loving hermaphrodites of The Merculian National Dance company are intrigued by the virile patriarchal society they discover there. The natives seemed friendly enough at first but when the star’s young lover is kidnapped, the Merculians find themselves plunged into a brutal alien Civil War they are ill-equipped to survive.
Amazon


About the Author

Caro Soles' many novels include mysteries, erotica, gay lit & science fiction. She lives in Toronto, loves dachshunds, books, opera and ballet, not necessarily in that order. THE DANGER DANCE is the first of five novels set in the world of the pleasure-loving hermaphrodites of Merculian. The second, THE ABULON DANCE is the second, and just oit now is THE MEMORY DANCE.


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Book Blitz: Assention Trials by Melaina Rayne

A Wilder NovellaParanormal RomanceDate Published: August 6, 2019

I am Shala Wilder. It is time for my coming-of-age celebration. Eligible males from every wolf pack have come to compete in the brutal trials of the Assertion.
When all is over, the victor will claim me as his companion. The problem? My heart isn’t set on a competitor, but on an off-limits guard who has no interest in me.
What fate awaits me at the end of the trials? Will I fulfill my duty as obedient pack member, or will I forge my own path?



Excerpt
“Shala Wilder, get your skinny ass down here right now!”

My heart sank at the sound of Nettie’s frustrated tone. I knew she’d come looking for me when she realized I wasn’t in bed, but I didn’t think it would be so soon. I barely had time to get comfortable on my little perch, no chance to calm my frazzled nerves. My anxiety over the coming events was still too raw. I needed more time alone, but I wouldn’t get it.
“I mean it, girl. I know you’re up there. Don’t make me come get you.”
We both knew she couldn’t climb the thirty feet up to my little ledge. Still, I was in big trouble if I didn’t at least answer her.
Shifting onto my belly, I peered nervously over the edge to find her standing with her hands on her hips, her foot tapping out an impatient rhythm. That was just like her, always looking so stern and serious. She didn’t have a fun bone in her body. At least, not since I’d known her. She was a no-nonsense kind of woman. She didn’t have time for games, but no matter how harsh she could be, the woman loved us all fiercely.
“I’m just staring at the stars, Nettie,” I called down to her. “Don’t have a pup.”Her wrinkled face pulled into a tight scowl. “I am well beyond my birthing years, girl. There’ll be no more heathen pups for me.”I rolled my eyes. She’d missed the point. Again. Sometimes, I couldn’t help thinking she did it on purpose.From behind Nettie, Rendall stepped into the open, her short cap of pale hair gleaming silver in the moonlight. “You should be sleeping, Shala. You’ll need the rest for your big day tomorrow.”I flopped onto my back again, letting out a short puff of air. “I can’t sleep. I’m too nervous.”My twentieth birthday—the beginning of my adult life—was only a few hours away and sleep refused to come to me. Anxiety and worry made it impossible. Not only had ten years passed since I last saw my parents, but the next few days held unknown things for me.Over the course of my stay in the mountain stronghold, I endured the emergence of my wolf, struggled to get control of her, and mastered the art of shifting with ease and deftness. Still, I had my misgivings about the changes I faced in the coming days.“Come down and I’ll make you some tea,” Rendall offered.“I don’t want tea,” I grumbled. “I want to stare at the stars until my eyes cross and I fall asleep from sheer exhaustion.”A small silence followed my confession before Rendall pressed. “Come now, Shala. Nettie may not come get you, but I will.”The stiff tone in Rendall’s voice told me all I needed to know. She was usually one of the gentler elderwomen, but she was a good climber. If she came after me, I’d likely be thrown from the low cliff.With great reluctance, I joined the two women and walked silently between them all the way back to the village. Nettie said goodnight once we reached the main hall, leaving me to follow Rendall to the kitchen.


About the Author

Melaina Rayne is author of The Jagara Series, Warriors of Lykarthia series, and Assertion Trials: a Wilder novella. She's a sucker for a down-and-dirty romance whether it's paranormal, fantasy, or contemporary. She wholeheartedly believes a great love story transcends the boundaries of genre. But, as much as she loves reading, she especially loves to write stories of beastly men, headstrong women, and the untamable passion that always draws them together.

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Book Blitz: The False Series by Meli Raine

The False Series by Meli Raine is Now Available at All Retailers!






(Please note this series was originally released exclusively on Apple Books. See below for wide distribution release dates.)

Genre:  Romantic Suspense

Audiobook Narration:  Andi Arndt and Sebastian York



Series Description:



She's faking her amnesia to fool a very real killer.



FALSE MEMORY (Book 1)

Release Date:  August 15, 2019

Ebook and Audio Available



It all started with the bereavement flowers with my name on them.



Not the best way to wake up, right? I work in a flower shop. I know a funeral arrangement when I see one.



I know a killer when I see one, too. And one is standing in my hospital room right now, straight behind the man who saved my life.



I can’t tell anyone the truth, because that’s the fastest way to really die. So I do the next best thing. I “lose” my memory.



I fake my amnesia.



Pretending not to remember a brutal attempted murder has its perks. The killer is backing down, spending less time around me, loosening the noose.



The less I claim to recall, the more my rescuer, Duff, works to help me “remember.” I hate lying to him.



But he doesn’t understand that my memory is dangerous. To me. And to him.



Fooling everyone isn’t easy. It’s the hardest thing I’ve ever done.



Except it’s starting to look like I’ve been fooling myself.



In more ways than one.



Buy Links:



Amazon US    https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B07V9Y48KQ

Amazon UK    https://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/B07V9Y48KQ

Amazon AU    https://www.amazon.com.au/False-Memory-1-Meli-Raine-ebook/dp/B07V9Y48KQ/

Amazon CA    https://www.amazon.ca/False-Memory-1-Meli-Raine-ebook/dp/B07V9Y48KQ/

BN       https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/false-memory-meli-raine/1132505173?ean=2940161244715

iBooks https://books.apple.com/us/book/false-memory/id1387687477&at=token1l3vsyP

Kobo   https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/false-memory-false-1

Google Play       https://play.google.com/store/books/details/Meli_Raine_False_Memory_False_1?id=MnuiDwAAQBAJ

Audible           https://www.audible.com/pd/False-Memory-Audiobook/B07VVM731N

iTunes https://books.apple.com/us/audiobook/false-memory-false-book-1-unabridged/id1475182605

Amazon Audiobook    https://www.amazon.com/False-Memory-Book-1/dp/B07VXRJLP8/

Goodreads       https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/40405827-false-memory

BookBub         https://www.bookbub.com/books/false-memory-by-meli-raine





FALSE HOPE (Book 2)

Release Date:  August 31, 2019



She thinks she’s fooled me. But I’ve known all along.



Almost.



Lily is hiding something, a secret so big, she came out of a year-long coma and her first instinct was to lie.



Who does that? Someone who is afraid. No—not afraid.



Terrified. And it’s my job to take that fear away.



My partner and I have spent countless man-hours hunting down the cold-blooded killer who did this to her. Meanwhile, Lily’s spent her waking hours recovering. Getting stronger. Getting smarter.



Staying beautiful.



Never get involved emotionally. That’s my dictate. Never get attached.



When you realize you’re caught in a triangle, it turns out there is no exit.



Crossing a line is easy. Holding a line takes strength.



Lily’s shooter knows that she’s my weakness.



And he’s about to exploit that by breaking a line and escaping, claiming a hostage in the process.



One I have to get back.



No matter what it takes.



False Hope is book 2 in the False trilogy by USA Today bestselling author Meli Raine.



Buy Links:



Amazon US    https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B07VGNK13R

Amazon UK    https://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/B07VGNK13R

Amazon AU    https://www.amazon.com.au/False-Hope-2-Meli-Raine-ebook/dp/B07VGNK13R/

Amazon CA    https://www.amazon.ca/False-Hope-2-Meli-Raine-ebook/dp/B07VGNK13R/

BN       https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/false-hope-meli-raine/1132539875?ean=2940161301395

iBooks https://books.apple.com/us/book/false-hope/id1421994196&at=token1l3vsyP

Kobo   https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/false-hope-false-2

Google Play            https://play.google.com/store/books/details/Meli_Raine_False_Hope_False_2?id=AQWjDwAAQBAJ

Audible           https://www.audible.com/pd/False-Hope-Audiobook/B07VWS3VPX

iTunes https://books.apple.com/us/author/meli-raine/id1001590492#see-all/audio-books

Amazon Audiobook    https://www.amazon.com/False-Hope-Book-2/dp/B07VVM6NBR/

Goodreads       https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/42088265-false-hope

BookBub         https://www.bookbub.com/books/false-hope-by-meli-raine





FALSE START (Book 3)

Release Date:  September 17, 2019



This isn't how my life is supposed to end.



Then again, a case of mistaken identity got me here. No one is ever who we think they are. Especially my kidnapper, a man whose entire life is designed to deceive.



Powerful people want my rescuer to die. I'm just a lure. A pawn. An object.



But objects hold meaning. Emotions attach themselves without logic.



Like love.



I now know that Duff will do everything to protect me.



If he gets here in time. And if I can hold on long enough.



Because my body can only handle so much. Pushed to the limits, it's finally giving out. Giving way.



Giving up.



I know Duff, though.



He never will.



Blink.



Read the stunning conclusion to USA Today bestselling author Meli Raine’s False series, told from both Lily and Duff’s points of view.



Buy Links:



Amazon US    https://www.amazon.com/Meli-Raine/e/B00U6UQYB8/

Amazon UK    https://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/B07VH6GR38/

Amazon AU    https://www.amazon.com.au/False-Start-3-Meli-Raine-ebook/dp/B07VH6GR38/

Amazon CA    https://www.amazon.ca/False-Start-3-Meli-Raine-ebook/dp/B07VH6GR38/

BN       https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/false-start-meli-raine/1132595069?ean=2940163093397

iBooks https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/a-shameless-little-bet/id1335823176?mt=11&at=token1l3vsyP

Kobo   https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/false-start-false-3

Google Play            https://play.google.com/store/books/details/Meli_Raine_False_Start_False_3?id=sf6jDwAAQBAJ

Audible           https://www.audible.com/pd/False-Start-Audiobook/B07VYTYM32

iTunes https://books.apple.com/us/author/meli-raine/id1001590492#see-all/audio-books

Amazon Audiobook    https://www.amazon.com/False-Start-Book-3/dp/B07VYVDB55/

Goodreads       https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/42088271-false-start

BookBub         https://www.bookbub.com/books/false-start-by-meli-raine





Author Bio:



Meli Raine writes romantic suspense with hot bikers, intense undercover DEA agents, bad boys turned good, and Special Ops heroes — and the women who love them. Meli rode her first motorcycle when she was five years old, but she played in the ocean long before that. She lives in New England with her family.



Social Media Links:



Website:  http://meliraine.com/

Facebook:  https://www.facebook.com/meliraine

Twitter:  https://twitter.com/meliraineauthor

Bookbub:  https://www.bookbub.com/authors/meli-raine

Goodreads:  https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/13536295.Meli_Raine

Newsletter:  http://eepurl.com/beV0gf

Extract:


He leans in, the sound of his breath like the ocean. The flowers in the shop obscure his scent, the too-clean air making me lightheaded, but not in a dizzy way. It’s too much oxygen, too much freshness for a place that holds so many good memories and one really, really horrible one.

But those eyes.

Those eyes make that worst memory feel like it’s part of me. Like it’s okay to be part of me. Like being shot can be two different truths, the horribleness of it acknowledged in the open, the hard fight back to normal a spoken truth as well.

We can hate our horror and at the same time, we can love who we become as a result of it.

I’m breathing slowly, watching him, wondering if I’m making up all these feelings in my mind. In my heart. In the narrowing space between us, where a kiss is what I want and a kiss is also a terrible idea.

What we want and what’s good for us don’t always overlap





Series blitz organized by Writer Marketing Services.

Book Blitz: Death by C**k by Susan MacNicol

Fetish Alley, Book 2M/M Romantic SuspenseDate Published: June 2019Publisher: Boroughs Publishing Group

CRIMES OF PASSION
Somehow, after solving one particularly squirrelly case, Clay Mortimer and Tate Williams of M&W Investigations have been deemed experts in all things Fetish Alley. Tate’s taken an undercover assignment for the London police, and solves it with his usual flair. When a brutal and particularly sensitive murder send the shop owners and patrons of Fetish Alley up in arms, once again the police department calls upon Tate and Clay to take the lead in solving the grisly crime. Meanwhile their lives are being redefined in ways neither of them expected, and even though change can be scary, these brave men make certain that love guides them on every road they travel.

Other Books in the Fetish Alley Series:

For Fox SakeFetish Alley, Book 1Publisher: Boroughs Publishing GroupPublished: February 2019

The Places You’ll Go And The Things That You’ll See
Former SAS soldier, Clay Mortimer, the M in M&W Investigations, had thought he’d seen it all. But when his ex calls and asks for a favour Clay is intrigued, and then a bit surprised. He and his partner, Tate Williams, have a robust and imaginative sex life, but the things they see and learn in Fetish Alley take their understanding of human behaviour to the next level. Tate’s take is part kid in a candy store fascination, part shocked. At the end of the day, all good detective work requires an open mind and the skill to ferret out the truth. Still, the layers of deceit and avarice they encounter are more than par for the course, particularly from people who are not keen about outsiders to the world of Fetish Alley.
Amazon


About the Author 

The ‘Official’ stuff

Susan writes steamy, sexy, and fun contemporary romance stories, some suspenseful, some gritty and dark, and she hopes, always entertaining. She’s also Editor-in-Chief at Divine Magazine, an online LGBTQ e-zine, and a member of The Society of Authors, the Writers Guild of Great Britain, and the Authors Guild in the U.S.
Susan is also an award-winning screenplay writer, with scripts based on two of her own published works. Sight Unseen has garnered no less than five awards to date, and her TV pilot, Reel Life, based on her debut novel, Cassandra by Starlight, was also a winner at the Oaxaca Film Fest.
The ‘Unofficial’ stuff
Susan loves going to the theatre, live music concerts (especially if it’s her man-crush Adam Lambert), walks in the countryside, a good G and T, lazing away afternoons reading a good book, and watching re-runs of Silent Witness.
Her chequered past includes stories like being mistaken for a prostitute in the city of Johannesburg, being chased by a rhino on a dusty Kenyan road, getting kicked out of a youth club for being a bad influence (she encouraged free thinking), and having an aunt who was engaged to Cliff Richard.

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Book Blitz: Jake by Carla Swafford

Romantic SuspenseDate Published: May 2019

Forget the Hatfields and McCoys, in a small Southern town, the Whitfields and Tallys are the real family feud. So for some unholy reason, Jake Whitfield’s old man and Angel Tally’s grandfather wrote codicils to their wills the night before they died in a suspicious fire. The codicils require Jake and Angel to marry or lose their inheritances.
Jake feels like a man with two faces. One he presents to his brothers and the public: the criminal willing to step on anyone for a buck while mercilessly protecting the business. The other: the lonely man wanting a better life for himself and his family and working with an FBI agent to make it happen.
To Jake, marrying Angel makes sense. With her family’s help, he can fight the new criminal organization that’s moving into his town. Immersed in the criminal world, there is no hope for Angel, but her brother is still young. She will do anything to protect him from that way of life and whoever killed their grandfather, even marry a despised Whitfield. And Angel never forgot about the sexy incident with Jake in high school ten years earlier.And if she has to go along with a Whitfield-Tally marriage, she wants a replay.




Excerpt
CHAPTER ONE

“I hope you rot in hell, old man.”
Jake Whitfield leaned over the grave and spit as his father’s casket slowly disappeared into the blackness. When a violent shudder brought the crank to an abrupt stop, he shot a sideways glare at the cemetery worker.
The man wiped a sweaty forehead on the upper sleeve of his faded gray uniform and kicked the contraption. “Stupid old thing,” he muttered as he avoided Jake’s gaze.
With a painful screech, the device started up again, rattling and jumping, and finally a solid thud came from the hole as it reached the bottom. If he believed in ghosts, he’d swear the hateful bastard wanted out to kill him.
Jake’s attention fell on the mourners surrounding the gravesite.
Their jackets flapped in the hot wind like vultures settling around a carcass as most of the men stared at the ground beneath their feet. No one looked into his face. Though the minister shook his head at Jake’s disrespect, he and the others didn’t say a word. They understood his hatred. Everyone who attended would love to do the same, if they had the backbone. All were business associates and most came not so much to grieve for the man’s death, but to receive assurance that his dad had died.
Many of the people in Sand County owed Dick Whitfield their livelihood and endured his heavy-handed manipulations, but none suffered as much as the Whitfield brothers. The old man had reveled in tormenting his bastard sons more than he did his associates. Besides their last name, the old man refused to give the boys anything without a deal or concession involved. Then again, maybe an agreement had been made when they were born, a bargain with the devil for their souls.
Releasing a snarl, Jake turned and nodded at his brothers. Townsend—or Sen, as he was known—and Ethan fell in step beside him as they headed toward the old man’s white limo idling next to the curb. No one said a word.
Another gust of wind tugged at their jackets. A bouquet of dead flowers blew across their path to become stuck between an urn and headstone.
Behind dark sunglasses, Jake scanned the area. Tension from the funeral and a gut feeling warned that danger lurked. Nothing appeared strange or out of place. But life with the old man had taught him to be extremely cautious whenever emotions ran high. With new leadership at Whitfield Industries taking over, many of the smaller players wanted a part of the business and conspired to oust the brothers. He knew without a doubt, no one would take one brick or dollar without a fight. After years of being under the old man’s rule, they deserved every piece of his ill-gotten money and property. They each had worked hard and often for pennies compared to others who worked for the old man and did far less.
He glanced around again without being obvious. The old cemetery covered acres of well-tended plots that held numerous large memorials and oak trees. Several people headed toward their cars while others remained near the burial site, talking and gesturing toward the grave being filled. In the distance, he heard traffic swooshing by, but strangely, the birds stopped chirping in the swaying limbs.
Steps away from the limo with the chauffeur waiting inside, Jake passed a life-size marble statue. The head exploded, spraying chunks of the white stuff. The confirming snap of gunfire sent everyone running for cover. Screams and shouts of concern punctuated by more shots echoed around him as he scrambled for the other side of the limo, its bulletproof body offering better protection than a tree or headstone. He motioned for his brothers to follow. In no time they hunkered down with guns in hands.
“Damn! Who do you think it is? Some asshole out to get Jake for sleeping with his girlfriend?” Ethan sat on the ground with his back near the car’s engine, watching for anyone coming from behind.
In his usual calm manner, Sen checked his Beretta and then edged closer to the taillights. “Probably the girlfriend.”
His brothers loved to rag him about how his last girlfriend had another guy on the side. When he kicked her out of his home, she must have told the other boyfriend a tall tale as the dumbass came at him with a gun. It almost became messy. When the boyfriend realized whose door he had knocked on, the poor dude drove out of town so fast he left rubber on the road for a half mile.
Jake shook his head and white dust fell around him. His forehead stung. A light touch came back with blood. He’d been nicked. “Most likely someone who’s wanting to take over the old man’s businesses,” he said as he ignored his brothers’ comments. “Or possibly the person who set the fire.” Leaning over, he ruffled his hair, showering the ground with powder and bits of stone.
He sneered. They’d already received warnings that someone outside the county planned to make a move soon. He hadn’t expected it to be at the cemetery. The old man was barely cold in the ground.
Several more shots zipped by and dug into the asphalt a few feet away. Followed shortly by a couple more over their heads.
Damn! They needed to concentrate on stopping the sniper. Normal people ran and kept moving when fired upon, but no, not the Whitfield boys. Maybe he and his brothers were as insane as the bastard they buried.
Sen nodded to where the road looped into the cemetery near the interstate fence. “I think the shots are coming from that direction. See the old rusted-out black van?”
“Yeah.” Ethan peeked over the limo’s hood.
“The sliding door is cracked opened. You think he’s still in there? The smart thing for a shooter to do is leave with the crowd.” Jake referred to the mourners cranking automobiles and screeching tires on their way out.
“I’ll go around and come up on the opposite side.” Without wasting time, Sen stooped low and ran alongside the cars parked by the curb.
Jake shook his head. He always wondered if his middle brother had a death wish. “Tick!”
The rotund driver inside the limo rolled down the window, showing only the top of his pale bald head and large blood-shot eyes. “Yeah, boss?”
“Scoot over. I’m coming in.”
“Sure, boss.”
“You get in the back.” Jake nodded at Ethan. With a jab, he returned his gun to its holster beneath his jacket.
“Sure, boss,” his brother said, mimicking Tick.
In seconds, they eased the limo down the lane toward the van. Jake caught a glimpse of Sen dashing behind a tree a few yards away. Then the side door on the van slammed shut, and a figure dressed in black jumped into the driver’s seat. No way would he let the asshole escape. He flatfooted the gas pedal and the old limo T-boned the van.
The crunch of metal and broken glass rang in Jake’s ears as he pushed hard on the door and sprinted to the other side. Two fellows ran for the trees. He tackled the nearest one as Sen sprinted after the faster, smaller one.
“You son of a bitch!” Jake flipped him over. Fist pulled back to slug the sniper, he stopped. “Sally? Sally Tally?”
Light green eyes in the middle of dark liner and eye shadow glared up at him. Chin length ebony hair tipped blood red stuck to a sweaty pale face. A grimace stretched her crimson lips lined in black as she waited for the downward swing.
He lowered his arm and examined her clothes. No wonder he’d mistaken her for a guy from the back. She wore an ankle-length leather coat with thick-soled biker boots buckled to her knees, the tight black pants tucked in. The only feminine clothing was the stiff red corset holding up plump, creamy white breasts, heaving with each intake of breath.
“No one calls me Sally anymore. Call me Angel.”
The last time he’d heard that husky voice, they had been teenagers, and she’d stolen his wallet. He’d retaliated by turning her over his knee, lifting her short skirt, and giving her nearly bare bottom a good sound spanking. During the chastisement, an unexpected dilemma had emerged. He remembered how much he enjoyed it. Way too much.

About the Author
Carla Swafford loves romance novels, action/adventure movies, and men, and her books reflect that. And that’s not all, she’s crazy about hockey, and thankfully, no one has made her turn in her Southern Belle card. She’s married to her high school sweetheart and lives in Alabama.

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Cover Reveal: Teresa Mathews - 13 Steps to the Cellar

MysteryDate Published: September 4, 2019Publisher: Tirgearr Publishing

Thirteen Steps to the Cellar. They were steep; they were narrow—but was a fall down them enough to have caused the twenty-seven deep lacerations to her aunt’s head? 
Callie Harris travels from her home in Alabama to her aunt’s former mansion in Maine to unravel the haunting forty-year-old mystery of Dr. Laverne Harris Doss’ brutal death.
Why wasn’t a murder weapon found? Was her uncle justly convicted of the killing? Was his mistress involved? Or was the murderer the bearded stranger rumored to have arrived by train that night?
In the charming town of Richmond, located on the banks of Maine’s historic Kennebec River, Callie uncovers the community’s darkest secrets—a botched police investigation, a betrayed widow’s lie, a dead woman’s blackmail, and a wealthy philanthropist’s shame. The web of intrigue extends far beyond her suspicions and its connection to her personal story pierces Callie to her core.

About the Author
TERESA MATHEWS is a graduate of The University of South Alabama.  She’s a member of the Mobile Writers Guild and serves on the Board of Directors for the Alabama Nursery and Landscape Association.
An avid gardener and artist, she has multiple book covers to her credit. Several years ago after visiting the site of her real-life aunt’s murder, Teresa discovered a third passion–storytelling. Although inspired by an actual tragedy, Thirteen Steps to the Cellar is fiction.
Raised on the Gulf Coast, Teresa, her husband, and son now live on a farm with a second home on the sparkling white sands of Fort Morgan, Alabama. This is her first novel.
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