Roxanne Rhoads's Blog, page 253

Hellfire Women with Brantwijn Serrah

If there's one constant throughout my books, it's women with the devil in their blood.
What can I say? I'm a fan of the fiendish. A devotee of the diabolical. Most of all, though, I think the interplay of good and evil inside a woman's soul makes for the very best kind of story.
When we talk about our favorite fictional ladies, folks bandy about the phrase "strong, independent woman" a lot. But what does it mean? Is it a gal in a tight catsuit who kicks ass and takes names? A Lara Croft-type adrenaline junkie? A self-assured, self-made business executive in power heels who doesn't need a man to validate her worth?
A woman's strength doesn't come from her profession, her wardrobe, her weapons, or her daring-do. It doesn't come from the presence or lack of a romantic partner. It's deeper in the soul of the woman herself. For me, the struggle of good vs. evil, in the microcosm of one woman's existence, creates a compelling study for where her true strength lies.
On January 8th, Into Nostra, the second book in my supernatural adventure series of The Pact, was released by Champagne Books. Set against the backdrop of the weird west and a paranormal otherworld, it's a story of journeys. The leading ladies on these paths have each struck deals with the devil, thinking the power of the arcane is what they need to make themselves stronger. They sacrifice a piece of themselves for a promise of something greater, a way to protect themselves against the dangers of a hostile world. The problem, as they come to realize, is that they've made themselves part of the dangers—and maybe they've lost too much of themselves to the will of another.
I think, as a woman, it's an important struggle to consider. Women's role in society so often becomes one of self-sacrifice, for the sake of the others and a perceived promise of security. We've been 'domesticated' for centuries. Our unique power, spiritual and magical, is damped down and subjugated by hungry devils every day.
That's what the women of The Pact and Into Nostra represent to me. I didn't exactly mean for that to happen... All I wanted was to write a story about a witch and a bounty hunter, sharing their minds and bodies with demons they may not be wholly in control of. When I look deeper, though, I see why Serenity Walker's battle is so compelling for me to write about. She faces down villains and monsters in the world around her, but her most important struggle comes from within. It's a fight to first realize how she's been misled, lured into giving up part of herself, and a journey to then reclaim that power. Her counterpart Eliza Rose has fought that battle for centuries; hers is a story about walking the line, finding yourself somewhere between right and wrong, temperance and temptation, patience and desire. When she's pitted against an entity who would rob her of her agency and choice, who will she choose to be? The sacrifice? Or will she be the bad bitch in charge?  
This is what I've learned from writing about Serenity, Eliza, and the women still to come in future books of The Pact. No woman can find her true strength anywhere but in herself. Her power doesn't lie the expectations of the outside world, but in her inner hellfire, her streak of wild magic, wicked tenacity, and defiant darkness. She's a little bit unholy and a whole lot of hero. She must be the kind of woman who will punch the devil in the face and then ask him for a dance. She'll catch bullets in her teeth and spit out nails. What's most important, though, is that she will do what it takes to seize the thing that matters most: her own bold, strongminded, audacious, and sovereign self.
And sometimes it takes a little bit of devil in your own soul, to be a hellfire woman

Into NostraThe PactBook 2Brantwijn Serrah
Genre: Supernatural Adventure
Publisher: Champagne Books
Date of Publication: January 8th, 2018
ISBN: 978-1-947128-24-8ASIN: B078W2QLKY
Number of pages: 225Word Count: 84,000
Cover Artist: Brantwijn Serrah
Tagline: They have opened the door to the apex predator, and now it is hunting them down.
Book Description:
Deals with the devil always have their price. Problem is, the devil collects with interest.
Serenity Walker thought she had the upper hand when it came to her partnership with a demon. D’aej is dangerous, but he was always on her side. Then an old friend lifts the scales from her eyes, and Serenity sees her contract for what it truly is: imprisonment, bloodshed, evil. All done by her own hands.
Now Serenity must pay for her ignorance and work harder than ever to fight a demon who can use her body, fool her senses, even twist every thought in her head. Only one sorceress has the power to teach Serenity what she really needs to know…a sorceress possessed by a fiend even bigger and badder than any Serenity has seen before.
Champagne Books     Amazon               Kobo     
The Pact Series On Amazon
Excerpt:
A woman flickered into existence. As if stepping out of some eternal veil, she appeared without warning and made straight for Serenity in quick, purposeful strides. The wide, swooping brim of a black cowboy hat hid her eyes; long silver hair streamed out behind her like a pale, gossamer banner. The lithe curves of a predator couldn’t be hidden underneath her black corset and boiled leather leggings—sleek animal fur lined the tops of her boots, tribal moccasins dyed with deep ink and painted with runic markings along the seams.
Serenity managed to identify the symbols as the marks of a killer, but she had no time to move. All along this fighter’s arms danced a swirling dark energy, a kind of magic Serenity had never seen before: the shadowy swarm of a hundred darkling faces, crackling and howling like flames. Her mind flashed in panic back to the fehu tapestry in Eclipse, guarding the weaver’s blackest arts, and just as the woman raised both fists over her head to bring them crashing down on Serenity, D’aej seized control and ducked the body out of the way.

Don’t stare at her like a cow on the train tracks, he shouted across their bond, his anger echoing off the walls of her skull. Get moving!
About the Author:
When she isn't visiting the worlds of immortals, demons, dragons and goblins, Brantwijn fills her time with artistic endeavors: sketching, painting, customizing My Little Ponies and playing with graphic design. She can't handle coffee unless there's enough cream and sugar to make it a milkshake, but try and sweeten her tea and she will never forgive you. She moonlights as a futon for four lazy cats, loves tabletop role-play games, and can spend hours on end sketching characters and scenes in her secret notebooks.

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Author Webpage   www.brantwijn.com  
Twitter @Brantwijn
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Guest Blog - La Contessa by S. Nano

La Contessa’s Card Game
The setting for La Contessa is 18thcentury Venice. Indeed, the city is almost like an extra character in the story, providing the perfect back drop for the debauched games and political plotting of its main character.
It was important for me to capture the spirit of Venice or La Serenissima as it was called. The book contains detail about fashions, masks, art, food and drink to try and evoke 18thcentury Venice for the reader. Many social customs are referred to including the famous Regattas and Carnevale. But one of my favourite scenes in the book is La Contessa’s version of the card game Faro.
Il Ridotto was Venice’s state gaming house, established in 1638 in a wing of Palazzo Dandalo. It was an attempt to control the games of cards and dice that were appearing in the lanes of Venice. The gaming house was notorious and attracted huge numbers of gamblers, usually from the wealthy classes playing high stakes games. Gamblers were required to wear tri-cornered hats and masks. One of the card games played at Il Ridotto was Faro.
Faro was hugely popular in 18thcentury Venice. It was a relatively simple and fast moving game, hence it was possible to lose large amounts of money quickly. Without getting into the details of the rules, basically gamers played against the dealer by placing stakes on cards that were turned over. ‘Losing’ cards meant the stake went back to the dealer, ‘winning’ cards meant the player gathered the stakes on that card.
La Contessa invites some of her aristocratic friends to join her in a game; there is Lady Rudston from England, Archduchess Hofburg from Salzburg, Anastasia Petrova, a Russian Princess and Mademoiselle Marie La Tour from Paris. However, this being a book of BDSM erotica, La Contessa has an imaginative twist to her version of Faro. The stakes are converted into punishments. These are administered by palm of the hand, whip, flogger and cane to the respective servants of the women. Roberto, La Contessa’s servant and the narrator of the story, ends up receiving the lion’s share of the beatings.
Il Ridotto was eventually closed in 1774. But the game of Faro went on to become popular in the casinos of the wild west.
Story extract
I hear a commotion of chatting and giggling from the other side of the door before it’s flung open by Lucio dressed in formal attire for the occasion. Lucio sees me standing by the card table and shoots me a disdainful stare across the room. La Contessa enters with her four guests.
They are a bizarre sight dressed with the formal extravagance of Venetian court life. Julia has done a remarkable job in transforming her mistress into the epitome of current Venetian fashion. The wigs are enormous, even by the standards of the day. It’s as if they’ve entered a competition for the tallest wig, which, inevitably, La Contessa has won, as hers is several inches higher than the others. They are embellished with jewels and enormous feathers so that, even in the high ceiling of the salon, they nearly touch the roof. In fact, I believe the size of La Contessa’s wig is so preposterous a parody of the fashion of the day, or even a mockery of her guests, is suggested. She has the statuesque figure and poise to pull it off but, though I’d dare not hint it to her, as a group they appear rather ridiculous.
It’s not only the enormous wigs. Their faces are powdered white, their lips rouged and their faces adorned with false moles in the shape of hearts or spades. Their gowns are sumptuous; the quality of the material, their cut, and vibrant colours are stunning. They walk stiffly, encumbered as they are by their wigs, bustles, and layers of undergarments.
As they enter one of La Contessa’s guests is nattering away to the others in good Italian with a strange accent, which I take to be English, “I’m enjoying Venice exceedingly. I must say, much to my surprise, so is Lord Rudston. I was most worried he’d be bored away from his estate and his hunting, but he seems to have taken such an interest in the architecture here. You know, he has taken to regular constitutional walks where he simply insists on going out on his own to explore Venice. I’m most delighted he’s shown an interest in things other than his hunting, it’s most refreshing.”
I have to restrain myself from laughing. I catch La Contessa’s gaze and we exchange discreet smiles. We both know where Lord Rudston’s been! He’s taken himself off to the brothels of the Cannaregio. He’s probably fucked every prostitute in Venice by now without Lady Rudston suspecting a thing. 
Well, I say every prostitute; that would be some achievement given there are several thousand of them!
From the introductions made by Lucio I can identify La Contessa’s guests. There’s Lady Rudston, with a short round body and spherical face looking absurd in her massive wig.
 Apparently, Lord Rudston owns huge estates in a part of England I’ve never heard of called ‘Yorkshire’. There’s Archduchess Hofburg from Salzburg, who is tall, angular and pointed, Anastasia Petrova, allegedly a Russian Princess and finally, and most interestingly, Mademoiselle Marie La Tour, the wealthy heiress to the Gobelins tapestry factory in Paris, who is young and pretty. They make for a strange party.
Now, from the point of view of La Contessa’s plans for her soiree, they have each come with a male servant, dressed like me in combinations of leather straps and thongs. I expect La Contessa has loaned this attire as I can’t imagine this being normal dress in these aristocratic houses. They are directed to stand next alongside me at one end of the card table.
The ladies take their seats at the table and Lucio pours out a glass of malvasiefor each of them. They unfold their enormous fans, decorated with hand-painted Japanese geishas, which must be the latest fashion. I appreciate it must be hot under the thick velvet and damask dresses but the salon is not so warm. I can only think the fans are an affectation or, it occurs to me, they might be used for coded messages if the players had conspired to cheat La Contessa, as I know fans are used in this way. But I consider this highly unlikely. Indeed, it’s hard to imagine Lady Rudston having the wits to cheat anybody.
La Contessa explains the rules of her game, “I know you are familiar with the rules of faro. I shall play the role of dealer. You can bet up to five stakes for each turn. There is a delightful little twist to my version of the game though. After each turn your winning stakes are converted into punishments for our respective servants. So, if the dealer, that’s me, wins, then I get to punish your servant. If a player wins, then you get the chance to punish my slave. So, there you are ladies, it’s really win-win for you, either you administer corporal punishment or you watch it being delivered to another servant.”
As La Contessa explains her rules I stand there mentally calculating the likely odds. Surely that means with four against the dealer I have four times more chance of being punished than the other servants? Oh well, I was expecting there to be a twist, and it doesn’t surprise me La Contessa would load the odds against me.
“This is good. I am looking forward to game. Salons of St Petersburg do not permit such goings-on. We are not so, how do you say, opening of minds as in Venice,” explains the Princess Anastasia in broken Italian.
“Oh my goodness! If only Lord Rudston knew what I’m getting up to whilst he’s wandering around Venice looking at churches. He’s such a stick-in-the mud,” laughs Lady Rudston. “He’d never imagine I’d be doing anything as naughty as this whilst his back’s turned!”
“I was once invited by the Comte du Conde to a masked spanking ball at the palace of Vaux le Vicomte,” added Mademoiselle La Tour, “it was great fun. Thank you for inviting me Contessa, I’m looking forward to this.”
The thin Austrian archduchess looks across at her haughtily, “I’m surprised Le Comte would invite a tradesman and commoner to his palace.”
Mademoiselle stares daggers at her, “Money opens doors, as you’ll no doubt discover soon Herr Hofburg. Nobody will talk to an impoverished aristocrat as I expect you’ll soon find out after your husband has settled his debts at Il Ridotto.”
This afternoon could be fun! But La Contessa has no time for this squabbling amongst her guests and rapidly pulls them back to the game at hand.
 “Lucio, lay-out the instruments of punishment for me,” she orders.
He fetches an armful of implements and arraigns them on the green baize of an adjoining card table. There is a collection of whips, riding crops, tawses, straps, slippers, and canes of varying sizes, materials, and flexibility all capable of delivering severe corporal punishment. The servants of the other aristocratic guests stare nervously at the tools arraigned before them.

“I will add a little more interest to the game by giving a value to the implements. I believe the canes are the harshest so they need two winning stakes before you can use them. For the overall winner, the player with the most winning stakes, I have a special treat. So, shall we begin ladies?”
La ContessaS. Nano
Genre: BDSM, Historical Erotica
Publisher: eXcessica
Date of Publication: 26 January 2018
Number of pages: 271Word Count: 90.500
Cover Artist: Kevin Blisse
Book Description:
The most decadent city…
The most perverted mistress…
Renowned for her beauty and cruelty, La Contessa’s reputation as a dominatrix is well established. And eighteenth century Venice has degenerated into a decadent and lascivious city, the perfect backdrop for her to play-out her debauched games and political ambitions.
She sends her maid, Julia, into the alleyways to search for a young man to act as her slave. Julia finds Roberto prostituting himself in the least salubrious district of Venice. He enters into La Contessa’s service to perform her bizarre and sadistic scenes.
From their first meeting there is a mutual attraction between maid and servant. The young couple engineer a series of sexual encounters, knowing the risks should their mistress discover them. Their situation is complicated when La Contessa rescues Becky and brings her to the palazzo as her submissive girl-slave. The interloper exposes Julia’s jealousies… and the feelings for her mistress.
How long can Roberto and Julia keep their love secret? Will Becky’s presence thwart their relationship? Will La Contessa’s scheming bring her the richest prize in all Venice?
All is resolved before the grand ball and masked, BDSM orgy held by La Contessa in her palazzo as the climax to Venice’s Carnivale.


Amazon
Extract: heat level 1 
La Contessa gestures for me to take up a position at the opposite side of her from Becky.
She’s dressed formally, in her wig, a rich embroidered gown, and as much make-up as I’ve seen her wear. She’s dressed to impress, and when I see her guest, I understand why. His gown is grand, its hood lined with ermine. But it’s the cane, capped with a silver winged lion, which provides the vital clue for me. Nobody would openly carry such an iconic symbol if they were not part of Venice’s ruling elite. The ensuing conversation confirms my suspicions.
“May I speak frankly to you, Contessa?”
“Yes, these are my servants. I trust them not to allow any report of our conversation to go beyond this room. They know the severity of the punishment if they do.”
“This is a delicate matter, Contessa. As you know the trade through Venice of late has declined, and the Doge and Council of Ten are, let me be frank, in straightened circumstances.”
“Allessandro Fernasse, I’m perfectly aware the interest on my loans to the Doge is due for payment in a matter of days. No doubt you’ve been sent here to crawl on behalf of the Council of Ten to renegotiate the interest payments. And, knowing the perverse lecher you are, I don’t doubt you’d also like to avail yourself of the entertainments I offer. You will see I have acquired a new slave and slave girl since you were last here. The girl is especially delicious don’t you think… and very willing.”
The corpulent representative of the Council of Ten squirms uncomfortably in his seat, sweat dripping from his forehead. I’m intrigued by this exchange. It explains a lot. Venice is a place where money rules. This must be the hold La Contessa has over the ruling elite of the city, making her untouchable in whatever she does.
“Yes, Contessa, on behalf of the Council I’m here to ask for a rescheduling of our debts.”
La Contessa raises an eyebrow, “Ask? You mean beg, surely.”
“Well, to discuss what mutually beneficial arrangements we might come to,” splutters Fernasse.
“Ha! You mean beg. And yes, I will make you beg! Get out of the chair onto your knees and crawl towards me.”
“But, Contessa, is it your intention to humiliate me?”
“Yes, indeed it is. Do as I say and get on your knees or there will be no negotiation. I will simply insist on the repayment of my loan. You know the consequences.”
Offered no alternative, Fernasse heaves his body out of the chair and gets down on his knees. He crawls the short distance to where La Contessa sits, her hand outstretched ready for him. He takes it in his hand and kisses it. There is a pause.
“Yes?” prompts La Contessa.
“Contessa, I beg you on behalf of the Doge and the Council of Ten to extend the period of your loan to the city for six months. We are expecting a fleet of merchant ships to arrive from the Far East by then with goods we can trade. I beg you to grant us this favour.”
“That’s better. And tell the Doge, next time he wants to reschedule his debts, he must come himself, and I will make him get down on his knees and crawl. I am minded to agree to an extension but I do have further conditions; a few trifles to satisfy my whims.”
“Yes, Contessa; let me know what they are. I’m confident we will be able to accommodate them,” said Fernasse, still on his knees.
“The first stipulation is that, on the final day of Carnevale, I will expect my barge to lead the procession along the Grand Canal, and for the ball to be held in my palazzo.”
“Why yes, Contessa, we would be honoured for you to host the Carnevale’s masked ball,” he says, relieved at the relative modesty of the request.


About the Author:
S. Nano is a writer of erotic stories with dark and exotic content in fantasy or historical settings drawing on the themes of female domination, BDSM and fetish but often with a seam of quirky humour running through them.
‘La Contessa’ is his third full length novel. ‘Adventures in Fetishland’, a BDSM/fetish re-invention of the classic Alice stories was published by Xcite Books and ‘Mistress of the Air’, a comic, Steampunk, erotic adventure was published by eXcessica. His novellas and short stories have been published by Xcite Books, House of Erotica, Forbidden Fiction, Coming Together and Greenwoman Publishing.
He is a regular participant in reading slams at ‘Smut by the Sea’ and similar events in the UK, contributing a workshop ‘Kinking Up the Past’, on getting inspiration for erotic stories in historical settings, in 2015.
Web site: http://www.slavenano.co.uk/writing

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/nano.vaslen

Savage Winds by Michelle C Reilly

Savage WindsSavage WindsBook OneMichelle C Reilly
Genre: Time Travel Romance
Publisher: Wild Rose Press
Date of Publication: February 28, 2018
ISBN: 978-1-5092-1938-4ISBN: 978-1-5092-1937-7ASIN: B079HLPV9F
Number of pages: 426Word Count: 109,365
Cover Artist: Kristian Norris
Tagline: War, Pirates, Nor The Savage Winds of Time Will Keep Them Apart
Book Description:
Ana Salvatore, a marine biologist, wants nothing more than to have an independent life free of her mobster family. While on an excursion in the Bermuda Triangle with her uncle, his boat explodes, and she wakes to find herself in the arms of gorgeous Captain Jacen Stirling on an ancient ship. It's like a fairytale, until he tells her the year is 1814.
Jacen is on a secret mission for General Andrew Jackson to infiltrate the infamous privateer Jean Lafitte’s encampment to determine his loyalties. When he discovers Ana while on his way to meet Lafitte, he can’t decide if she’s the worst thing that’s ever happened to him, or the best.
As the Battle of New Orleans draws nearer, can Jacen and Ana work together to help their country beat the invaders? Or will the British, the war, or the savage winds of time keep them apart?
Amazon      Wild Rose Press eBook     Wild Rose Press Paperback

Excerpt:
The latch lifted and Captain Jacen Stirling entered. When he turned to shut the door, she noticed the captain’s own pants had the same double rows of buttons hers had. She made eye contact and found him staring at her with a stone face. Her mouth dropped open, and she stuttered as she realized he’d noticed where her gaze had been.“I was… It’s your pants… And mine, too. They’re, like, really old-fashioned.”He glanced down at his black britches. “My trousers aren’t, I admit, at the height of the Parisianfashion standards, but since we are currently at war, I believe priorities are in order.”She blinked. “I know I’ve been busy finishing up my doctorate, but I hadn’t realized things had becomeso much worse in the Middle East that they’ve affected fashion trends.”“The Middle East?”“Uh huh.”“Do you speak of war? In the Middle East?”“Uh, yeah… The last time I checked. Why? What war are you referring to?”He stood taller. “I speak of war with Great Britain and their continued efforts to prove our young country isn’t valiant enough to stand on its own.”“Uh huh,” she muttered. Is he off his meds? “Great Britain, huh?”He gave a curt nod.“So, you’re, like, talking Revolutionary War?”“That war ended some time ago. I speak of our current situation that began in 1812.”“1812?” She suddenly felt like she was watching the final round of Wimbledon and each opponent keptgaining the edge to win, only to lose it again. “As in one-eight-one-two?”“No,” he scoffed. “As in one-nine-one-two. What bloody year did you think I was referring to?”“Oh, you know, nothing like referring to a war that took place over two hundred years ago,” she said dryly.He froze, and the edges of his lips rose in a grin. “Two hundred years ago? What year do you think this is?”“I don’t know… Maybe 2017?”

About the Author:
Michelle C. Reilly is a single mom of two wonderful boys. She spent ten years in the U.S. Navy as a Hospital Corpsman Preventive Medicine Technician, which meant she was actually attached to or stationed with the U.S. Marine Corps. She has a Masters in Science in Public Health, but she is generally an IT geek and a nerd of many other things as well. She currently resides in Las Vegas, NV, with her two cats, Meowdy and Moose, and her labradoodle, Sophie.
She’s self-published the Anathergians Saga, science-fiction/paranormal romance and suspense stories that revolve around a powerful alien species who landed on Earth over five thousand years ago. SAVAGE WINDS, her venture into time romance, was picked up by The Wild Rose Press.

Website: www.michellecreilly.com
Facebook: www.facebook.com/michellecorareilly
Twitter: www.twitter.com/MichelleCReilly
Instagram: www.instagram.com/michellecreilly/
Pinterest: www.pinterest.com/michellecreilly/
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/8343890.Michelle_C_Reilly
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Witch Creek by Laura Bickle

Witch CreekThe Wildlands SeriesBook TwoLaura Bickle
Genre: Dark Fantasy 
Publisher: Harper Voyager
Date of Publication: Feb. 27, 2018
ISBN: 978-0062567314ASIN: B071VBHPW7
Number of pages: 384Word Count: 88,160
Book Description:
In the backcountry of Yellowstone, evil moves below the surface . . .
Following Nine of Stars comes the next chapter in Laura Bickle's critically acclaimed Wildlands series.
As the daughter of an alchemist, Petra Dee has battled supernatural horrors and experienced astonishing wonders. But there’s no magic on earth that can defeat her recent cancer diagnosis, or help find her missing husband, Gabriel. Still, she would bet all her remaining days that the answer to his disappearance lies in the dark subterranean world beneath the Rutherford Ranch on the outskirts of Temperance, Wyoming.
Gabe is being held prisoner by the sheriff and heir to the ranch, Owen Rutherford. Owen is determined to harness the power of the Tree of Life—and he needs Gabe to reveal its magic. Secretly, the sheriff has also made a pact to free a creature of the underground, a flesh-devouring mermaid. Muirenn has vowed to exact vengeance on Gabe, who helped imprison her, but first . . . she's hungry. Once freed, she will swim into Yellowstone—to feed.
With her coyote sidekick Sig, Petra must descend into the underworld to rescue Gabe before it's too late . . . for both of them.
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Excerpt:
Peering through the cattails, she saw a man with a fishing pole, standing on an outcropping. He seemed alone, caught in a bit of reverie, gazing at his line skipping along the surface of the water.She dipped below the surface of the water, toward the shiver of the fishing line. With green-spotted fingers, she lifted the struggling fish from the hook. The line jerked away.The man swore.Muirenn lifted her head above the water.“Holy shit.” The man stumbled backward. “I didn’t realize you were swimming there . . . I . . .”His expression changed from embarrassment to curiosity as he looked at her. The pupils of his eyes dilated. “Who . . . are you?”Muirenn gripped the fish close to her chest, giving a small smile.The fisherman crouched on the rock, setting his pole beside him. “Wow. You’re uh . . . green? Is that real?”Muirenn cocked her head and slipped forward a bit in the water. The edge of her tail skimmed above the surface.“Is that like . . . one of those tails that the girls have at that park in Florida? For a movie or something?” His suntanned brow wrinkled. “No. That’s real,” he decided. “You, um . . . want the fish? You can have it.”She was within arm’s length of him. She released the squirming fish into the water.“You wanted to let it go? Look, I . . .”The man talked too much. She swam closer, tentatively.The fisherman looked at her, at her dappled skin and the dark rust hair spreading into the water. She wouldn’t ordinarily have been so bold. The weight off her tail was going to her head. She let him take in the black of her eyes, the gills on her throat. He gazed in wonder, and his fingers twitched to a small square piece of plastic on top of his tackle box.“Can I take your picture? What . . . are you?”A smile played across her lips, and she spoke to him in a silvery voice. “I’m the Mermaid.”“Wow. I . . . wow. I’m, uh, Norm. Do I, like, make a wish or something?”“You can, if you want. I’ll listen.”She reached up with delicate fingers to touch him. Her fingers brushed the pockets of his fishing vest, playing with wonder over the bits and baubles there meant to lure the attention of fish. The man forgot about his camera and stared, transfixed.Muirenn reached up for his collar . . .. . . and dragged him down into the water.He splashed and flailed. She brought him down—down to the bottom of the creek. It wasn’t so far, but it was far enough for a land dweller. He couldn’t fight her for long. He thrashed until his lungs grew heavy with creek water. He convulsed as the lack of oxygen reached his heart and filtered up to his brain. And then he stopped.Muirenn grinned, showing row upon row of shark-like teeth. She ripped off his arm and began to chew. It had been so long since she’d had anything but the errant fish that wandered into her realm . . . this was a meal worth waiting for.The creek ran red.
Red as the idle red-and-white bobber drifting on the surface of the water.
About the Author:
Laura Bickle grew up in rural Ohio, reading entirely too many comic books out loud to her favorite Wonder Woman doll. After graduating with an MA in Sociology – Criminology from Ohio State University and an MLIS in Library Science from the University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee, she patrolled the stacks at the public library and worked with data systems in criminal justice. She now dreams up stories about the monsters under the stairs, also writing contemporary fantasy novels under the name Alayna Williams.
Her work has been included in the ALA’s Amelia Bloomer Project 2013 reading list and the State Library of Ohio’s Choose to Read Ohio reading list for 2015-2016.
Website: http://www.laurabickle.com/
Newsletter sign up: http://eepurl.com/cOxHJr
Twitter: http://twitter.com/Laura_Bickle
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Instagram: http://instagram.com/laura.bickle/

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Vampires: More Human than Humans by S.M. Perlow

In my dark fantasy series, Vampires and the Life of Erin Rose, some characters question the nature of vampires. The potentially immortal creatures rise from their coffins only at night. They have superhuman strength and speed, and they’ll heal from almost any physical injury. They’re also beautiful and had once been human, before being turned—before craving, and needing to drink blood to live. 

So what are they? 

Villains? Those who oppress humanity, perhaps. 

Heroes? The ones who oppose the villains, sword in hand (because the surest way to kill a vampire is to take their head off with a blade), maybe.

Or are they all demons, inhuman things best cast back into whatever pit their kind emerged from in the first place?

The answer, of course, is up to the reader. And whatever position one takes on those points of view, I’ll argue for a fourth: in many ways, vampires are even more human than everyday people.

A person might live eighty years or a hundred. Choices and their consequences will brighten or weigh on their lifetime. But that lifetime ends in relatively short order. And while that limited lifetime heightens the importance of a human’s decisions, a vampire’s unlimited lifetime raises the importance of their decisions in a different way. A vampire might live hundreds of years, thousands, or forever. Their choices and whatever outcomes, good or bad, stay with them the entire time. Vampires generally face the same dilemmas as humans, but with forever before them, can have more at stake in their choices.

Most people seek companionship—a husband, wife, partner, or close friends. Human connection in some form is important to them. For vampires who feed off mortals’ blood, human connection is vital. Put another way, people might yearn for connection, while vampires would die without it.

My vampires do have superhuman strength and speed. Yet those are human abilities, simply taken to an extreme. Likewise, that my vampires will heal from almost any injury is an extreme. People heal, just not like vampires. A dying person finds finality to whatever joy greeted them each waking morning, along with an end to their sorrows. But vampires? Whatever the world throws at them, as long as vampires find blood to drink, they’ll bounce back, ready to take on the world anew, whatever happiness or sadness their nights are full of.

So vampires are not exactly the same as humans, but in some of the most fundamental ways, they’re even more human than humans.

Vampires live longer, they need human connection, and their yearning for it can far outlast a single human lifetime. Whatever choices vampires make, for better or worse, can echo for an eternity, with the vampire around to hear it. 

Those deeply human vampires are the ones I write about, because those are the vampires I love reading, watching on screen, and imagining. My new novel, Choosing a Master, is set in a world with those vampires. I hope you enjoy reading it.




Choosing a Master Vampires and the Life of Erin Rose Book 1S.M. Perlow 
“Like the blood of God…” 
In New Orleans, a passage from a Renaissance-era book is Ethan’s only hope to save the woman he loves. He’s a vampire, so he can live forever. Ellie, however, is mortal, ill, and running out of time.
“If Sanguan vampires drank synthetic blood, like Spectavi vampires, the world would be so much safer for humans.”
In the Spectavi laboratory where synthetic blood was created, Vera is making no progress with her current projects. But for her devotion to the Spectavi cause—and their leader—she will go to any lengths.
“She would hold me when she bites, and at least while she sips my blood, I wouldn’t be alone.”
In a nightclub in France, John has an unusual encounter with a gorgeous vampire, but his love for a mortal woman forces him into a devastating choice.
Reason or passion, good or evil, duty, love, or pure pleasure—in a world with two vampire factions at war, choosing the right master is everything.
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Interview - Release Day Blitz The Unlikeable Demon Hunter: Crave by Deborah Wilde

What inspired your story?

When I started writing The Unlikeable Demon Hunter, I was really frustrated with the double standard that I saw applied to even fictional females around sexuality and “likeability” and I wanted to explore that. 

There is also a lot of Jewish history and mythology that comes into play (Brotherhood of David, go figure) and Nava was my way of dealing with misogyny I’d faced in my religion. 
Basically, it’s sexytimes and kickass through a lens of gender politics wrapped in a lot of snark.

Is the setting to your story important?

Hugely. This series is predominantly set in my hometown of Vancouver, BC, though it does go to some other cities. 

I always joke that if aliens invade, New York, London, and Hong Kong are screwed, but Canada is fine. 

I wanted to juxtapose how demons and this secret demon hunting society could fit in against the back drop of a pretty Canadian city.

Did you always want to be a writer? If not what did you want to be?

It never occurred to me growing up that writer was a job that regular people could have. I’m not sure if I thought they were magical beings or what, but even though I can’t remember a time when I wasn’t writing, it seriously never crossed my mind that I could do this as an actual career.

 I wanted to be an architect for a long time or work with a woman’s organization through the UN.  

When did you first consider yourself a “writer”?

My first writing gig was as a screenwriter, so probably when I signed that first contract for actual paid episodes.

What were your goals as an author and have any of them come true?

I guess making a living as an author, which I do. Not so much a goal, but I’ll tell you a cool author moment I had. 

I went to my first RWA last year and participated in the author signing. I was praying I’d sell one book because there were hundreds of authors in this ballroom with dozens of super impressive names. 

I’d brought these mini Coffee Crisp chocolate bars and was offering people “an exotic Canadian delicacy” which I swear was helping me move books. 

This woman comes by and slaps down a laminated cover of The Unlikeable Demon Hunter. I thought this was some official RWA thing, but no. She and a friend come to these signings and choose one author to support and I was it. 

Then on top of that these three young women came by to show me how they had a list of ten authors they’d come here to buy from and meet and that I was on the list. 

I’m usually just sitting in my office in Canada, bathed in the glow of my screen, hoping I’m not just entertaining myself, and here were actual humans excited to meet me. 

It was crazy and humbling and fantastic. 

What genres do you normally write in?

When I look back over my entire writing career, including my screenwriting, and YA work (written under the name Tellulah Darling), I’ve always written urban fantasy and I’ve always written romantic comedy. They’re just getting more and more closely intertwined.

What was the first book you ever published?

It was actually one of my YA titles called Sam Cruz’s Infallible Guide to Getting Girls. It seemed to really polarize people – some thought the sex and the language were realistic to teens and others called me and my characters “morally depraved.” :P

Thanks so much for having me!

The Unlikeable Demon Hunter: CraveNava KatzBook FourDeborah Wilde
Genre: urban fantasy / romance
Publisher: Te Da Media
Date of Publication: February 20, 2018
ISBN: 978-1-988681-10-8ASIN:  B0784674R3
Number of pages: 438Word Count: 92,500
Cover Artist: Damonza
Tagline: Meet Nava Katz. Punches like a girl. Kicks demon butt.

Book Description:
What doesn’t kill you... seriously messes with your love life.
Nava is happily settling into her new relationship and life is all giddy joy and stolen kisses.
Except when it’s assassins. Talk about a mood killer.
She and Rohan are tracking the unlikely partnership between the Brotherhood and a witch who can bind demons, but every new piece of the puzzle is leaving them with more questions than answers.
And someone doesn’t appreciate them getting close to the truth.
Go figure.
On top of that, a demon known only as Candyman has unleashed a drug that’s harming users in extremely disturbing ways.
After a friend of Nava’s is hurt, she vows to take this demon down. But will life as she knows it survive this mission, or will this be the one time she should have looked before she leapt?
Happily-ever-after: barring death, she’s got a real shot at it.
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On Sale up to 60% Until Midnight Feb 26 Entire Series On Sale to Celebrate the Release of Book 4.
Excerpt: “I love home delivery.” Malik lounged in his doorway, eyeing me the way the wolf must have with the three little pigs. His British accent was pure sin.“I love your arrogance that you didn’t bother moving after I almost killed you.” He laughed, flashing straight white teeth against his bronze skin. He was still the only being I’d ever met who could pull off a Caesar cut, and was still the stuff of billionaire romance cover fantasies in his soft gray trousers that were artfully tailored to the hard lines of his body and navy shirt, carelessly folded back at the cuffs. “Oh, petal. I’d say I missed you, but I didn’t. Now, unless you brought the more interesting twin?” He peered into the hallway. “No?” He shut the door, but I stuffed my foot in to block it. Not like he politely stopped trying to close it. “Ow.” I pushed my shoulder into the door to keep my poor bones from breaking. “If you weren’t wondering why I was here, you wouldn’t have let security buzz me up or let my toes cross the wards I’m sure you’ve got strung across this door.”“Ten seconds.”“That’s not–”“Five, four…”“Demons are being bound.” I rushed my words as he made a buzzing noise.Malik yanked me inside by my collar and slammed the door.I wrenched free.His penthouse apartment hadn’t changed. Still to-die-for sweeping views of the city, a massive glass wine storage unit in the open concept space, and a loft bedroom. He pointed at one of the leather sofas, custom made to hug the curved walls. “Sit and talk.”


About the Author:
A global wanderer, hopeless romantic, and total cynic with a broken edit button, Deborah writes urban fantasy to satisfy her love of smexy romances and tales of chicks who kick ass. This award-winning author is all about the happily-ever-after, with a huge dose of hilarity along the way.
Web: www.deborahwilde.com
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