Roxanne Rhoads's Blog, page 295
June 7, 2017
Mistress Of The Air by S. Nano


Genre: Comic, Steampunk, Erotica
Publisher: eXcessica
Date of Publication: 21st April 2017
ISBN: 978-1545250242ASIN: B06Y6GVGYF
Number of pages: 270Word Count: 79,000
Cover Artist: Kevin Blisse
Book Description:
Mistress Of The Air is a Comic, Steampunk, Erotic Adventure.
Lady Sally Rudston-Chichester owns a brass mine in Zanzibar, a Lapsang Souchong tea plantation in China, a rubber farm in Malaysia, trunk loads of corsetry, and the country’s largest collection of antique whips.
Larger than life, and itching to find new and inventive ways to punish her submissive gentlemen, the Edwardian dominatrix has a vision. Embracing the spirit of the age of aviation, she embarks on a series of adventures on her airship, ‘The Corseted Domme’, with her transvestite maid, Victoria, her airship pilot, Captain Wyndham, and her automaton sex-doll, Borghild.
A select group of submissive gentlemen, consisting of a duke, bishop, lawyer and banker, is invited to join Lady Sally so she can try out her dastardly, electric and steam-powered devices on them. She spanks, whips, and punishes her way across the Empires of Europe, dropping off to visit her aristocratic relatives and friends for afternoon tea.
But Lady Sally’s journey is not uneventful. War is threatening to break out and the Ministry of Aviation want to commandeer her airship for the war effort. And when ‘The Corseted Domme’ has a crash landing, Lady Sally realises there is a stowaway on board intent on sabotaging her airship.
‘Mistress of the Air’ is a genre-crossing comic, Steampunk, erotic adventure as Lady Sally delivers a BDSM kick up the back-side to the Edwardian country house novel.
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Extract 3 “Jolly bad luck on the final race, Wyndham. It was a daring move and deserving of greater reward.”The captain’s face lit up at the compliment. He looked up but couldn’t help but be distracted by the sight of Lady’s Sally’s breasts. Her dress was cut daringly low, and the magnificent orbs of white flesh were pushed up enticingly by her corset and the cut of her gown. And then she started talking. If Wyndham was embarrassed about what to say to her, he didn’t need to worry. She commanded the conversation and Wyndham listened, bewitched and mesmerised at the vision she laid before him. There was no escape for him. He was pinned into the corner by Lady Sally’s heaving breasts with no escape. He tried to concentrate on what she was saying, conscious of the treatment meted out on Monsieur Le Blon, all the time urging himself to focus on her face not her chest, but it was an enormous effort of will when they were practically thrust under his nose. She spoke of her airship. She described how vast it was going to be, how fast, how powerful, and how high it would fly. She described how sumptuously it would be fitted out. She extolled the virtues of her ocean liner of the air. Wyndham nodded enthusiastically as her breasts swelled and subsided with every excited explication of her venture. She enthused about her designers and engineers who were working on it, of the technical challenges they faced and how they had overcome them. Wyndham stood trapped in the corner of the ballroom like a frightened rabbit in headlights all the time trying to distract himself from the sight of Lady Sally’s enormous décolletage as it heaved up and down in front of his eyes.Then she proceeded to explain how, as he must certainly know, she was the foremost dominatrix of her age and described with great enthusiasm the dungeon that would be fitted out on the airship, and how excited she was about the adventures she would have, and the whippings, spankings and punishments she would administer to the carefully selected group of submissive gentlemen who would be accompanying her on the airship’s maiden voyage.“It’s my ambition, Captain Wyndham, to be the Mistress of the Air, yes…a veritable Mistress of the Air, and I envisage you playing a vital role in fulfilling my vision.”Wyndham’s ears pricked up at those words but he only had the slightest moment to interject with a nervous, “oh really,” before the enormous breasts backed him even further into the corner. Lady Sally continued by praising his aviation skills and the daring manoeuvres she’d witnessed at the flying meeting. Wyndham flushed with pride. She went on, much to the captain’s delight, to say how those French aviators were all show and no guts, and she needed somebody who would take risks for her, to serve her loyally and selflessly. Finally, she wound up her diatribe and came directly to the point. “Now Captain. I pride myself on my instincts and judgement of character. You see, the matter is I need an airship pilot. I need someone who can share my enthusiasm for air flight and is a skilled aviator. I believe you are my man Wyndham.”Lady Sally continued extolling the excitement of the new age, how she was going to take her airship on a grand tour across Europe and how he, Wyndham, would be her pilot. Finally, she concluded, “So that’s all settled then, Captain Wyndham. I can assure you the financial rewards will be considerable. It’s good to have you on board. I’m sure we will share many adventures together. You can report to my airship station at Howden in Yorkshire. My maid, Victoria, will give you all the details.”With one dismissive wave of a lace-gloved hand she breezed off, leaving the hapless Wyndham gaping in astonishment. He had been swept away by her charisma. He had barely uttered a word. At no point had he agreed to the venture yet he knew in his gut he would accept the challenge. He felt strangely compelled to help Lady Sally fulfil her vision of travel in the largest and fastest dirigible ever to be built.

S. Nano is an author of erotic stories with dark and exotic content in fantasy, paranormal or historical settings, often drawing on the themes of female supremacy, BDSM and fetish but with a seam of quirky humour running through them as well.
His first full-length erotic novel, ‘Adventures in Fetishland’, a BDSM/fetish re-invention of Alice in Wonderland, was published by Xcite Books. His short stories and novellas have been published by Xcite Books, House of Erotica, Forbidden Fiction, Coming Together and Greenwoman Publishing.
His second novel, ‘Mistress Of The Air’, a comic, Steampunk, erotic adventure will be published by eXcessica on 21st April 2017.
Web site: www.slavenano.co.uk/writing
Blog: www.slavenano.co.uk/blog
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/nano.vaslen
Mistress Of The Air Facebook:https://www.facebook.com/Mistress-Of-The-Air-1671491076492099/
Pinterest: http://uk.pinterest.com/nanovaslen/
Amazon UK: http://www.amazon.co.uk/-/e/B005EBU1QI
Amazon US: https://www.amazon.com/Slave-Nano/e/B005EBU1QI/
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/user/show/6828376-slave-nano

Published on June 07, 2017 00:00
June 6, 2017
NOT YOUR AVERAGE HEROINE: A PROFILE IN PICTURES- Guest Blog A Vision in Crimson by Kathryn Troy







FrostbiteBook One
Kathryn Troy
Genre: dark romantic fantasy
Date of Publication: June 1, 2017
ISBN: 9781539800897
Number of pages: 323
Word Count: 80k
Cover Artist: TS95 Studios
Book Description:
Katelyn knows her magic is risky, but Icaryan light is fading fast and she is desperate. Returning to Earth, she crosses paths with Luca, a vampire hybrid living on the outskirts of humanity.
Passion sparks their weary hearts. The rogue hunter follows Katelyn into a world teeming with wonder and danger, forsaking his own quest to root out his father.
But his father has not forgotten him.
A Vision in Crimson is the first installment of a new epic fantasy blistering with romance and Gothicism.
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Excerpt 2: The clearing appeared empty. He did notice, however, that the space seemed more alive than any other part of the forest. The forest floor was a vibrant shade of green, shimmering with dew that adorned the underbrush and the rich bark of the trees. Even a boulder looked animated as a light wind blew through the shaggy brown moss that covered it. “There’s no one here,” said Luca, looking suspiciously at Kate. He became wary as he sensed motion on all sides of him, and began to think better of his last statement. “Isn’t there?” Kate smiled at him curiously. Luca kept his eyes trained on the forest, his vision darting back and forth, trying to detect an anomaly in the environment. Just then, a cluster of small leaves fell from the canopy. They floated slowly to the ground in a peculiar pattern, swirling around themselves and forming what Luca thought looked like the shape of a woman. The woman made of leaves, who appeared to be suspended in air, was in fact a tree nymph. She greeted her companion. “Welcome back, Kate,” the nymph said, her voice the sound of rustling foliage. “Thank you, Varya,” Kate replied. What the— Luca tilted his head in wonder. He saw the dew drops on a nearby tree run together into a single puddle that clung to the tree trunk before it and the trunk peeled away from the tree. The dew and bark split apart in midair, forming two more female shapes, one made of water, the other tree bark. The dew on the ground collected itself, forming a second water nymph. The nymphs slowly took on more tangible, humanoid shapes, their skin shining in the greens, browns, and blues of the forest. The water nymphs looked slick, and the tree nymph’s skin retained a rough, crackly texture. Several mossy rocks that were clumped together shifted, and Luca realized that they weren’t rocks at all. The largest boulder uncurled itself and stood up, revealing a bipedal, hooved creature with the head of a bull, covered in shaggy brown fur that Luca had mistaken for moss. A man with the horns and legs of a goat, and a giant of a man, whose trunk terminated in the body and legs of a workhorse, followed suit. Luca had killed countless monsters in his time as a hunter, usually serving as the mindless minions of vampires. But the creatures he looked upon now were entirely new to him. “You sure keep interesting company,” Luca said, no longer able to hide his amazement. “That I do,” Kate replied. “But someone is missing. Someone who’s in an awful lot of trouble.” Louder, she called out: “Corbin! Report!” From the tree cover above, an oversized rat dropped onto Kate’s shoulder. A large scar ran the length of his left shoulder, and his left ear was half chewed off. Despite that, the rat tried very hard to keep his dark coat well groomed, and it showed. “Hi Kate, how’s it going? Who’s your friend?” the rat Corbin asked, trying to avoid the issue for which he knew he had been called upon. Luca was going to introduce himself, but Kate cut him off. “Never mind that,” Kate answered sternly. “Did you forget something?” she asked Corbin. “Forget something?” Corbin asked, his poor attempt at sounding oblivious. “Oh, of course, you mean our equipment! Not to worry, it’s all safely tucked away.” Kate was losing patience quickly. “The camp, Corbin. Where's the camp?” “The camp. Right. Well...” Corbin answered, using his well-articulated fingers to scratch awkwardly behind his ear. He could stall no longer. “After you left, Cato said he was really tired of sleeping on the ground, and suggested that maybe we could find a place to stay here. There was no motivating them after that.” Corbin turned to Luca and introduced himself, since Kate was preoccupied. “Hello. I’m Corbin, Kate’s second in command. And you are?” A giant, talking rat is second in command. Of course, Luca thought sarcastically, feeling overwhelmed. “Luca. It’s nice to meet you,” he managed to say. Kate shifted on her feet. “I said we would find a place to stay at our next stop,” Kate said to Corbin. “I told them that. They’d rather not wait.” “Did you explain to them that this world is not going to welcome them with open arms?” she protested. “Of course, Kate,” the rat answered. He was more worldly than Kate’s other companions, and understood full well that not every place in the universe would be friendly to their group. “But they won’t listen. They were hoping you could arrange something, seeing as it’s your home planet and all.” Home planet? Are they aliens? Luca wondered. “What do you mean ‘this world’?” he asked Kate. “Is there more than one world?” “More than you can imagine. What I was saying before,” Kate explained, referring to their conversation on the hill, “was that a long time ago, I was fortunate enough to stumble into a world that suited me better than this one. Theirs.”

Kathryn Troy is an historian turned novelist and baker. Her nonfiction book, The Specter of the Indian: Race, Gender and Ghosts in American Séances, 1848-1890, is forthcoming from SUNY Press. Her historical expertise in the supernatural and the Gothic informs her fiction at every turn. Her genres of choice include dark fantasy, romance, horror, and historical fiction. She lives in New York with her husband and two darling children.
Bathory’s Closet: http://ladybathoryscloset.blogspot.com
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/kathryn.troy
Instagram: http://www.imgrum.org/user/bathoryscloset/3942479568
Goodreads Profile: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/16571460.Kathryn_Troy
Amazon Author Page: https://www.amazon.com/author/bathoryscloset

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Published on June 06, 2017 02:30
Interview and Giveaway- Ahe’ey by Jamie Le Fay

What are your guilty pleasures in life?
Salted caramel ice cream. Whoever came up with the idea should be burned at the stake for witchcraft and crimes against my waist.
Do you write in different genres?
Yes, I do—speculative fiction, romance, women’s fiction and political thriller.
Do you find it difficult to write in multiple genres?
No, not at all. I dedicate my life to challenging limiting stereotypes, and I tend to find genres, genders, races, genes, and gods way too limiting. I refuse to color inside the line or to stay within a box. I am a feminist AND I am a romantic; I am a Marvel nerd AND I love Jane Austen; I am an engineer AND I am a fiction writer. Viva la revolution!
Please tell us about your latest release.
Morgan is a dreamer, change maker and art lover. She is a feisty, slightly preachy, romantic feminist full of contradictions and insecurities. Morgan uncovers a world where women have the power, and where magic is no longer just a figment of her wild imagination. Sounds like a dream, but it may, in fact, turn into a nightmare.
The world of the Ahe'ey challenges and subverts her views about gender, genes, and nature versus nurture.
The strong and uninvited chemistry between her and the dashing Gabriel makes matters even more complicated. His stunning looks keep short-circuiting her rational mind.
Was one of your characters more challenging to write than another?
Morgan was incredibly challenging to write because, deep inside, she’s the closest to who I am as a person. She is not me, but she shares many of my quirks and features. The first draft of the book, released in 2012, was mostly centered around the relationship between Gabriel and Sky. Both characters represented different aspirations of whom I wanted to become. I was struggling to showcase Morgan on the page. Over the years, I found ways to accept myself and to cherish and champion Morgan. I’m still surprised that she’s getting so much love from readers. The love Morgan receives encourages me to be true to myself.
Is there a character that you enjoyed writing more than any of the others?
I love spending time with Gabriel; he represents my hope in good men and my belief in reluctant leaders that reject power and prefer to support and nurture those around them.But, where there is light there is also shadow . . . I had a lot of fun writing young Sathian. You will get to know him better in the next book and, as we all know, the devil always plays the best tunes. There will be chaos, division and death.
Do you have a formula for developing characters? Like do you create a character sketch or list of attributes before you start writing or do you just let the character develop as you write?
I’ve known these characters for all my life. For as long as I can remember I have soothed myself to sleep by imagining their adventures. Before I started writing, I mapped out each character’s arc; I did this for each book and for the series as a whole. I also knew in advance how each character related to the various themes of the book—perfection, beauty, privilege, leadership, biases, and power.
What is your favorite scene from the book? Could you share a little bit of it, without spoilers of course?
I have two favorite scenes. I love the moment during the trial, where Sky learns the truth about her past. Her mighty storm is as big as her heart. She may be a rage-ridden tsunami capable of destroying entire realms, but she is also fair and loyal.
I also love the moment when Morgan makes a plea to Gabriel. That represents my plea to all good men out there at this important inflexion point in human history. As we approach the collapse of the planet, silence is not an option; good men and women must rise and lead by example. Will he?
Did you find anything really interesting while researching this or another book?
The Florence syndrome aka the Stendhal syndrome. The overwhelming impact that art can have on one person seeing it for the first time.
The illness is named after the 19th-century French author Stendhal. He described his experience during his 1817 visit to Florence artworks: “I was in a sort of ecstasy, from the idea of being in Florence, close to the great men whose tombs I had seen. Absorbed in the contemplation of sublime beauty . . . I reached the point where one encounters celestial sensations . . . Everything spoke so vividly to my soul. Ah, if I could only forget. I had palpitations of the heart, what in Berlin they call 'nerves.' Life was drained from me. I walked with the fear of falling.”
What is the most interesting thing you have physically done for book related research purposes?
Wandering around the Bethesda Fountain and the Met museum day dreaming. I might also have snuck into restricted parts of the Pierre Hotel. Magic happens when one raises one’s nose and struts around a fancy hotel like she’s the Queen of Babylon.
Do any of your characters have similar characteristics of yourself in them and what are they?
Gabriel, Morgan, and Sky are all different sides of who I am.
Do you ever suffer from writer’s block? How do you deal with it?
I have discovered that my brain works in two different modes—the creative mode and the logic mode. When the creative spark is gone, I use my highly-structured mode to edit and to market the book. I never attempt to switch modes; I just go with the flow. It works quite well. I am very productive.
Do you have any weird writing quirks or rituals?
Long walks and hot showers unleash my creative spark.
When did you consider yourself a writer?
I don’t. I’m still working hard to accept that label. I suffer from severe impostor syndrome. I tend to celebrate the accolades for exactly three and half seconds, and then I go back to dwelling in the dark corners of self-doubt. Maybe one day? The good news is that the crooked impostor also makes me work very hard to learn and get better at everything that I do. I wonder why perfectionism is one of the themes in my books? I wonder why it paralyses Gabriel? Hmm . . . Those statues, they are so beautiful, perfect and yet static. Can you connect the dots?
Other than writing, what are some of your interests, hobbies or passions in life?Technology, innovation, hiking, social justice, behavioral economics, design thinking, and moving beyond the GDP toward true human progress and wellbeing.
What was the last amazing book you read?
The non-fiction books Sapiens and Homo Deus by Yuval Noah Harari.
Where is your favorite place to read? Do you have a cozy corner or special reading spot?
By the sea, under the shade of a wise and old tree.
What can readers expect next from you?
I am working on the second book of this series. The Ahe’ey are facing some dark and challenging times— the four royal cousins are divided and so are the tribes. The outside world is accelerating toward collapse.
Where can readers find you on the web?
Links to all Book Sellers: https://www.books2read.com/aheey/
Website: http://www.angeelseries.com
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/3...
Twitter: https://twitter.com/angeelseries
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/JamieLeFay/
Would you like to leave readers with a little teaser or excerpt from the book?
“Why don’t you fight? I’ve seen you—you are the bravest of them all. When you rescued me, you were . . . amazing. You could beat any of those Yi’ingo freaks with a hand tied behind your back. Why don’t you take part in the Games? Why don’t you show what you are really capable of? Why do you let us down? Do you want us to be ashamed of you?”

Genre: Epic Fantasy Romance
Date of Publication: Book Release Date: 8th March 2017
ISBN-10: 0646969188ISBN-13: 978-0646969183ASIN: B06XF7T8P1
Number of pages: 625 paperbackWord Count: 155190
Cover Artist: Milan Jovanovic
Tagline: Morgan’s feminist books didn’t prepare her to deal with the dashing Gabriel and the land of Ahe’ey
Book Description:
"A thoughtful look at empowerment for women."
"A rollicking trip into a fantasy world complete with dragons, love and strength, and ideas that really get you thinking."
"Highly recommended for all ages."
Morgan is a dreamer, change maker and art lover. She is a feisty, slightly preachy, romantic feminist full of contradictions and insecurities. Morgan uncovers a world where women have the power, and where magic is no longer just a figment of her wild imagination. Sounds like a dream, but it may, in fact, turn into a nightmare.
The world of the Ahe'ey challenges and subverts her views about gender, genes, and nature versus nurture.
The strong and uninvited chemistry between her and the dashing Gabriel makes matters even more complicated. His stunning looks keep short-circuiting her rational mind.
Books2Read Amazon BN iTunes Kobo
Excerpt:
"She believed in magic—the magic of places, the magic of people, the magic of coincidences, serendipity, and fortune. She enjoyed wandering through the world with the open mind and curiosity of a four-year-old child. In her world the mystical, mythical, and magical inhabited the same space and time as the ordinary and the practical. At Bethesda Terrace, she always felt close to a source of magic and creativity. It was as if she were tapping into the place where dragons, angels, gods, sorceresses, and demons came to life.""She killed him instantly. The young woman plunged her hand into his wound and licked the blood. Once again, she dipped her hand into the blood and used four fingers to paint stripes on her face. Sky’s defiant eyes locked on Iblis.""Debilitating guilt crushed Gabriel every time he interacted with Morgan. The Ange’el’s affection for the human was weakening his mandate to control her movements and influence her decisions. His task was, once again, to deceive and manipulate. He seemed destined to betray the confidence of those he held most dear."“You know, it would be much less trouble if you were willing to bat your magic eyelashes.”
"Young Sathian was flirtatious, titillating, quick-witted, and brilliant. He left a trail of broken hearts across the land as he teased and taunted his victims with his beauty and charm. Both women and men succumbed to his joie de vivre and panache as he was an untypical Ange’el that carried the sunshine in his smile and in his eyes."
EDITORIAL REVIEWS
"A bracing mix of emotionally and intellectually honest fantasy." - Kirkus Reviews
"This book is a thoughtful look at empowerment for women. At the same time, it’s a rollicking trip into a fantasy world complete with dragons, love and strength, and ideas that really get you thinking. This book is highly recommended for all ages." - HUGEOrange
"They're flawed, real, and honest characters that can be easily related to. Ahe'ey is the kind of novel society needs to read, to create inspiration and to make people think. Ahe'ey is daring, complex, and honest. A must-read novel that tackles heavy and real topics with a mix of serious and humorous, charm and tragedy." - Reader's Favorite - 5 Star Review
"Ahe’ey contains a richly imagined world that raises complicated and timely questions about our own.
Jamie Le Fay’s Ahe’ey is an action-packed love story that puts forth a nuanced vision of gender stereotypes, body politics, and the dark side of seeking perfection." - Foreword Clarion - 4 Star Review

Jamie is an accomplished writer and speaker that focuses mainly on topics related to girlhood, feminism, gender equality, and the misrepresentation of minorities in media and marketing.
Website: http://www.angeelseries.com
Twitter: https://twitter.com/angeelseries
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/JamieLeFay/
Goodreads:
https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/34459933-ahe-ey
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Published on June 06, 2017 00:00
June 5, 2017
Release Day Blitz Evil's Unlikely Assassin by Jenn Windrow


Release: June 6, 2017
Genre : Urban Fantasy
Publisher: Muse It Up Publishing
ISBN: 1771279222ASIN: B06XH9ZFD4
Number of pages: 290Word Count: 80K
Cover Artist: Erica Petlit Designs
Tagline: Sometimes it takes evil to kill evil
Description:
Vampire Alexis Black is on a mission - to rejoin the human race.
Coerced into signing an ironclad contract by an Angel-with-attitude, Alexis must hunt down and assassinate at least one vampire, werewolf, or creepy crawly every night for fifty years to become human again. Too bad the contract didn’t mention the badass vampire who now rides shotgun in her brain, insatiable bloodlust, or her new I-hate-everything-with-fangs sidekick. If she can fulfill her end of the bargain, her humanity is restored, if not she will be destroyed.
But when a revenge-seeking bloodsucker threatens her city, Alexis must risk everything to ensure there’s a humanity to return to. Since her vampire nature is her greatest weapon to defeat the monsters that threaten her friends and future, Alexis must choose to accept her inner beast or watch those she loves die.
Amazon BN iBooks Kobo MuseIt Up Goodreads
Excerpt:
Tonight’s job had me sitting in a shadowy corner of a dead-end dive watching the unfortunate, the hopeless, and the degenerate. Had I known this is how I’d be spending my one hundred and seventy-third birthday, I would have called in sick.An aging cocktail waitress hustled to over-serve society’s misfits. An ex-con, a dealer, and an addict pissed their lives away at the far end of the bar. A trio of prostitutes circled the room, their knock-off stiletto’s clicking on the wooden floor. And a single cockroach scurried for cover before being squashed.How would the humans feel about me, the vampire, hiding in their shadows?One of the battered bar stools toppled, throwing its occupant to the filthy concrete. The man, in a faded red and black flannel shirt, picked himself up off the floor. Dingy jeans slid down his hips, revealing a pair of boxers far past the expiration date for a wash. He bumped and weaved his way through the crowd, ignoring the spilled drinks and curses he left in his wake, and cut a crooked but determined path right to my table.He collapsed into the booth next to me, blocking my only chance at escape. “How’s ’bout a drink?”I wrinkled my nose at what had to be three days’ worth of sweat and grime, raised my bottle and sloshed the liquid from side to side. “Still nursing this one.” I focused on a faded picture of the Blues Brothers nailed to the wall and hoped he’d take the hint. A sharp tap on my shoulder told me this guy was either clueless or didn’t give a shit. My money was on clueless.“What’s your name, sexy?”Oh how I wanted to ignore his question, but the last thing I needed was Mr. Drunk and Stupid to cause a scene and blow my cover. “Alexis.”His grease-coated fingers played “Get the Buggy” up my arm. I slapped them away before they got past my elbow. “How’s ’bout we get to know each other better?” He gave me a lopsided wink and ogled my breasts.When he looked at me, he saw what every other human did, a twenty-three year old, petite brunette with large, light blue eyes. But if he leaned in close, he would see what lurked below the exterior, something sinister and scary, with sharp fangs and a deadly personality.

Jenn Windrow loves characters that have a pinch of spunk, a dash of attitude, and a large dollop of sex appeal. Top it all off with a huge heaping helping of snark, and you've got the ingredients for the kind of fast paced stories she loves to read and write. Home is a suburb of it's-so-hot-my-shoes-have-melted-to-the-pavement Phoenix. Where she lives with her husband, two daughters, and a slew of animals that seem to keep following her home, at least that's what she claims.
Jenn's Urban Fantasy, EVIL’S UNLIKELY ASSASSIN won the RWA Fantasy, Futuristic and Paranormal (FF&P), “On The Far Side” writing contest in July 2014, top 5 in the RWA Desert Rose, “Realizing the Dream” writing contest, and finaled in the Houston Writers Guild annual writing contest in April 2014. It was also selected as first runner up in Writers Type’s First Chapter Contest in April 2013.
Her Paranormal Romance, STRUCK BY EROS placed first in the RWA’s Golden Pen Contest, third in the Ruby Slippered Sisterhoods Make it Golden contest, and fourth in the West Coast Romance Writers Beacon contest.
http://www.jennwindrow.com/
https://twitter.com/JenMWindrow
https://www.facebook.com/jennwindrow/
https://www.pinterest.com/jennwindrow/
https://www.amazon.com/Jenn-Windrow/e/B011J5MVLU/
https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/14160136.Jenn_Windrow

Published on June 05, 2017 23:30
Enter to win $25 Amazon Gift Card - A Knight Without His Lovers by Jamel Gross


Genre: Poetry
Publisher: BookVenture Publishing LLC
Date of Publication: January 2017
ISBN: 978-1-946250-95-7
Number of pages: 150Word Count: 13,844
Book Description:
In this classic love story told in poetry, author Jamel Gross takes readers to the Dark Ages with his verses.
From a man who enjoys life, a good book, and everything positive in this world, comes a compelling anthology of poems that speak of the classic tale of love. In “A Knight Without His Lovers”, author Jamel Gross compels readers to open their hearts and feel the expressions of love – and love lost – through the verses of his poems.
In this compilation of poetries, readers will experience falling in love all over again. The author hopes to evoke that feeling by talking about the Dark Ages, in that time to love and not to love and to love again. And that classic love story is overflowing in this poetry collection.
Amazon Barnes and Noble BookVenture
Summer Sun
When I saw summer in your smile.What I witnessed the end of love, in your eyes!When I saw a rose die!I cried myself to sleep!When I awakened, I realized.You said goodbye, I sing this melody,because I had fell head over heels in love!When I play this song, I see love reborn in your eyes.When the laughter begins, you said, goodbye!From the beginning, you met me I saw summer love;In your art and the music, you played!I won’t find another one of your tears until my eyes won’tawaken.Until love arrive and waken me from sunset to sunrise.I’ll always think of you, my sun and nite.We made love underneath the stars!When I rehearse this track play me a love song,straight from your heart.When tears were written we made love,underneath the cherry moon!
Mona’s Heart and Tragedies
Treachery poisoned her life.A trail of broken tears and broken promises.False lies and deceiving eyes.The queen of infinite, attic of the universe,And a spell less triangle!The aviator Allan Poe of mysteries.She’s the house of many tales wave goodbye,Immortal tears and drama.The final flight and passageway.

On a relaxing day, I enjoy a good book to start the day. I hope everyone has an opportunity to purse their dreams in life... Also I like to take time and enjoy life. Sometimes things aren’t as promised, never take loved ones for granted, spending time with family and friends. The Drive is the most intoxicating force. Sometimes I feel as if I’m on a mission. Pray for World Peace and the lives that were lost???
As a writer, I find people fascinating. It is only the beginning until the clock is up. Precious time, precious few. Make time and savor the moment let no obstacles come between you and the gift... A little robust, a good jolt to start the day.
http://www.jamelgross.com/
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Published on June 05, 2017 02:30
June 4, 2017
Her Wounded Dragon


Genre: Fantasy/Paranormal/Shifter Romance
Date of Publication: June 1’st, 2017
Number of pages: 140Word Count: 32,000
Cover Artist: Tara West
Book Description:
Curiosity is a dangerous thing and temptation a death wish. Especially for someone like Vivienne with her complicated past and closely guarded secrets. Yet when she has a chance to get near the enemy because of a sexy dragon shifter haunting her dreams, she doesn’t think twice. Even if it means seeking out a paranormal dating agency and tagging along incognito to scope him out as her best friend goes on a date with him.
Kage knows within minutes of meeting Vivienne that she isn’t who she pretends to be. As the right hand man of the enemy, it’s his job to figure out if she’s a threat. More so, if she’s a risk to his hidden agenda and well laid plans. Soon enough, he realizes the only danger she poses is to his hardened heart. After all, there’s no defense against the scorching desire dragons feel when they find their long lost mate.
Excerpt 2 (less spicy)
Julie, the one who had contacted Gerri about finding a date, was an attractive redhead. Beautiful most might say if they were of a mind to better appreciate her. And he would. After a few more cupcakes. Right now he was still recovering. The other, Julie’s assistant, Vivienne, was a mousy blond with thick tinted glasses and a bad slump. Yet there was something about her that seemed…off. He inhaled and detected no scent outside the usual female interest. He saw red and looked through his dragon eyes. Nothing there either. All he could detect was synthetic hair. So she wore a wig. Many women did on occasion. At least in his clandestine circles. But this wasn’t one of his clandestine circles.“Julie, meet Kage,” Gerri cut into his thoughts. “He’s currently a Navy pilot.”Yeah, only because he couldn’t spread his own wings and fly.Until then, an F/A-18 Super Hornet would have to do.“Kage, meet Julie,” Gerri continued, that same glint of amusement still in her eyes. “She runs her own P.I. business.” He did his best not to choke on his cupcake. Julie, with her thundering heart and flushed skin, was no private investigator. Not based on her noticeable reaction to him. But Vivienne? His eyes slid her way. Now there was a steady, practiced heart rate. There was someone barely breaking a sweat despite that uncomfortable wig and bulky wool suit.When the oven buzzer went off in the kitchen, Gerri smiled. “Ah, the vanilla cupcakes are done.” She stood and looked at Julie. “Mind helping me get them out of the oven? It’ll only take a moment.” Shouldn’t she be asking Vivienne? The one he wasn’t here to meet? “Of course, vanilla’s my favorite,” Julie chirped and leapt up so quickly Kage knew she wanted to be here about as much as he did. So what was the deal? Was she swindled into this too?Or did this go deeper?He had spent half his life looking over his shoulder, so he had a pretty good eye for deception. A masterful eye, some might say. His gaze slid back to Vivienne. She hadn’t spoken once. Maybe it was time she did.“So what made you decide to come along with your boss to a dating agency, Vivienne?”He liked the feel of her name on his tongue.Vivienne. He focused on her lips as she licked them quickly and murmured, “Moral support.”“Ah,” he whispered, his gaze still lingering on those full, lipstick-free pouty lips. They were about the only thing she hadn’t been able to hide. Because she was trying to hide, wasn’t she?Let’s see if he could rattle her.“So I assume Julie knows I’m a shifter or she wouldn’t have reached out to Gerri for a date.” He perked a brow. “It’s not every day a girl’s interested in meeting a dragon.” He lowered his voice in light-hearted warning. “After all, we run a little aggressive in the bedroom.”Vivienne swallowed, her voice suddenly husky. “I’m sure Julie knows what she’s doing.” “But do you?” he nearly said as a slow grin crept onto his face. She liked what she heard. Yet there was still no scent of arousal. Strange. And telling.
This woman definitely wasn’t who she pretended to be.

Sky Purington is the bestselling author of over twenty-five novels and several novellas. A New Englander born and bred, Sky was raised hearing stories of folklore, myth and legend. When combined with a love for nature, romance and time-travel, elements from the stories of her youth found release in her books.
Purington loves to hear from readers and can be contacted at Sky@SkyPurington.com. Interested in keeping up with Sky’s latest news and releases? Visit Sky's website, http://www.skypurington.com to download her free App on iTunes and Android or sign up for her quarterly newsletter. Love social networking? Find Sky on Facebook and Twitter.
Website: www.skypurington.com
Blog: www.skypurington.blogspot.com
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Published on June 04, 2017 23:30
Gallowglass by Jennifer Allis Provost


Genre: urban fantasy, paranormal romance
Publisher: Bellatrix Press
Date of Publication: June 6, 2017
ISBN: 978-1622510320ASIN: B06XXQCPFB
Number of pages: 272Word Count: 75k
Cover Artist: Deranged Doctor Design
Tagline: Karina didn’t set out to free the Seelie Queen’s gallowglass. Now she’ll do anything to keep him.
Book Description:
After Karina and her brother, Chris’s, lives fall apart in separate yet equally spectacular ways, they leave New York behind and head to the UK. Karina buries herself in research for her doctoral thesis, all the while studiously not thinking about the man who broke her heart, while Chris—who’d been a best-selling author before his ex-fiancée sued him for plagiarism—drinks his way across the British Isles.
In Scotland, they visit the grave of Robert Kirk, a seventeenth- century minister who was kidnapped by fairies. No one is more shocked than Karina when a handsome man with a Scottish brogue appears, claiming to be the Robert Kirk of legend. What’s more, he says he spent the last few hundred years as the Gallowglass, the Seelie Queen’s personal assassin. When they’re attacked by demons, Karina understands how dearly the queen wants him back.
As Karina and Robert grow closer, Chris’s attempts to drown his sorrows lead him to a pub, and a woman called Sorcha. Chris is instantly smitten with her, so much so he spends days with Sorcha and lies to his sister about his whereabouts. When Chris comes home covered in fey kisses, Karina realizes that the Seelie Queen isn’t just after Robert.
Can Karina outsmart the Seelie Queen, or is Robert doomed to forever be the Gallowglass?
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Excerpt:
I sped back to the ruined kirk, my knuckles white as I gripped the wheel. The real reason I didn’t get on Chris about his constant mooning over Olivia was that at least he and Olivia had had something. I’d had nothing with Jared. No it hadn’t quite been nothing, but it may as well have been. One thing that Chris and I had both learned on this trip is that an ocean is not nearly enough distance to outrun your past.I parked in the kirk’s tourist lot, leapt out of the rental and ran across the bridge and up the fairy hill, startling some of the local wildlife along the way. When I reached the Minister’s Pine I was panting, my heart pounding as sweat poured down my back.I had to find that quartz. I just had to.I dropped to my knees and felt around near the base of the tree. I found my brush rather quickly, along with my hairclip and the stupidly expensive Mont Blanc pen that my advisor had given me when I earned my masters degree. But the quartz, the quartz wasn’t anywhere. The bits of lunch I’d had turned to lead in my stomach; if the quartz was gone, then it was really, truly over.“Lookin’ for this, are ye now?”I turned toward the voice, blinked, and pushed my glasses up to my forehead. Yeah, he was really there. Standing in front of me was a tall man in what I assumed was period dress. Instead of a kilt—we American girls tend to think that all Scotsmen run around in kilts, no matter the occasion; sadly, this is not the case—he was wearing a padded brown leather coat topped with chain mail, along with matching brown pants and well-worn leather boots. A helmet was tucked under his arm, and I could see the hilt of a claymore, one of those medieval broadswords that were so heavy you had to swing it with two hands, poking up over his shoulder. A shield rested next to the sword’s hilt, its curved edge just visible above the man’s shoulder. I hadn’t realized they did reenactments at Doon Hill, and I made a mental note to check the brochure for show times. I also noticed that the actor had his hand extended, with my lump of rose quartz sitting on his open palm.“Yes!” I got to my feet, and grabbed the stone. “Thank you,” I said once I remembered my manners, stroking the stone with my thumb. The man looked at me intently, his expression wavering somewhere between confusion and curiosity. “What made you think it was mine?”“Saw ye drop it, I did,” he replied.“And you’ve been waiting here since then?”“I knew ye would be back for me.”I blinked, since I must have misunderstood his accent. What I’d heard as ‘me’ must have really been ‘it’. Accents do tend to garble words. “I really appreciate you waiting for me. Thank you,” I said, extending my hand.He eyed my hand, dark brows low over his blue eyes. Then he grasped my fingers and brought them toward his mouth.“What are you doing?” I snapped, snatching my hand away.“I thought ye wanted me to kiss your hand,” he explained.“I wanted to shake your hand!” He looked befuddled rather than offended, so I attributed this to yet another cultural misunderstanding. It was becoming quite the list. “Well, regardless, thank you. I’m Rina.”“Rina,” he repeated, that Scottish brogue of his making my nickname sound positively decadent. “’Tis quite an unusual name.”“It’s short for Karina,” I explained. “Karina Siobhan Stewart,” I added, wondering why I’d felt compelled to give him my full name. Historically I’d only been called Karina Siobhan when I was in trouble.“And I am Robert Kirk,” he said, extending his hand. This guy was way deep in character, like method actor deep. I shook his hand, and we both smiled.“Good to meet you, Mr. Kirk.”“Reverend Kirk,” he corrected.“My apologies, Reverend Kirk.” These reenactors sure liked to stick to their roles, though I’d never expected to see a reverend wearing chain mail. We stood there for a moment, holding hands and grinning like a couple of fools, and I took the time to really look at him. He was older than me, probably a bit older than Chris too, with dark, tousled hair, chiseled features, and a roguish glint in his blue eyes. They had obviously picked reenactors that would appeal to the ladies. “Do no’ fash, Karina lass, no offense was taken,” he murmured, and my cheeks were suddenly hot. I took back my hand, barely resisting the urge to fan myself. “I should be going,” I said. “My brother’s waiting for me.” I scanned the area around the Minister’s Pine, ascertained that I’d left nothing else of import behind, and turned toward the path. A hand on my arm stopped me.“Ye canna leave me here,” the reenactor said. “Ye must take me with ye.”“What? No!” I faced him, planting my feet before him and whipping out my cell phone. “I don’t know what goes on here in Scotland, but I’m an American citizen. Stay back, or I’ll call 911.” I didn’t even know if they had 911 in Scotland. Would I have to call Scotland Yard instead? I hoped my phone had some kind of app for international emergencies. I waved my phone in what I hoped was a menacing manner, and Robert—or whatever his name was—eyed it as if it would bite him.“Put away your tricks, lass,” he said. “It was ye what called me here in the first place.”I shook my head. “This is an act, right? Reverend Kirk, freed at long last from the Minister’s Pine?”“’Tis no act, lass. Would that it were.” He stepped closer, and took my hands in both of his. Robert’s hands were warm and callused, and, despite all this nonsense, comforting. “I am Robert Kirk himself, and ye have freed me no from just a tree, but from Elphame, and the Seelie Queen herself.”“Elphame?” I asked.“Aye,” he replied. “Some refer to it as the Fairy Realm.”I leaned against the Minister’s Pine. He claimed he was from Elphame. Of course he was. How did I always attract the weirdos? It was generally agreed that when magic left the world, it was because the fairy realm had closed its doors to humans. Some claimed that human industrialization, and its rampant use of iron, had caused the fae to retreat, while others claimed the global shift from pagan to monotheistic faiths was the culprit. No matter which theory you favored, the end result was the same; there was no new magic. For hundreds of years humans had made do with a few crumbling artifacts and enchanted items, but those items were wearing out too. It was as if magic had a half-life, and we’d long since passed the middle point.“You can’t be from Elphame,” I said. “It’s closed. It’s been closed for centuries.”“Has it, now? I will say this, when I was a boy the land was thick with magic. Ye could hardly walk the roads without encountering one o’ the Good People.”“When you were a boy,” I repeated, then I remembered that Robert Kirk had lived in the seventeenth century. Magic hadn’t started disappearing until a century later. “Still, it’s closed now.”“Just because a door has been closed, does no’ mean it canna be reopened.”I slid down to the ground and Robert sat beside me, both of us leaning against the tree he’d recently emerged from. Wait, when did I start believing him?“So, um, you think all of this is real?” I ventured, gesturing around the clearing. “The legend and all?”Robert smiled wanly. “Ye have heard o’ me, then?”“They say you told the world of the fairies’ secrets, so they imprisoned you in a tree.”“That is no the whole of the tale.” Robert closed his eyes as he leaned his head back against the trunk. “I did have dealings with the Good People, but it was no them who abducted me.”“Then who did?”“’Twas Nicnevin, the Seelie Queen herself.”My jaw dropped, and if I hadn’t already been on the ground I would have fallen. As it was, my arm went out from under me, and my shoulder bumped into Robert. “Are ye all right, lass?” Robert asked.“Yes,” I lied. There was nothing all right about this. “Why did the queen take you?”“She fancied me,” he replied. “Offered me an apple, ye ken. I said no, it angered her, she cursed me. And here we are today.”I looked up at him. He still had his head tipped back against the tree, his eyes closed. “That sounds like the ridiculously oversimplified version.”At that, he opened his eyes and speared me with his gaze. “Would ye be likin’ all the details, then, lass?”I swallowed. “Um, maybe not just yet.” My gaze moved from Robert’s face to the quartz in my hand. “What makes you think I freed you?”“Ye made contact wi’ the tree, wishin’ to rescue me. Wishes are powerful things, ye ken.” Robert leaned over and touched the quartz. “Then ye dropped your stone, and a door opened for me. I ha’ been waitin’ for ye ever since.”“Wishes are powerful things,” I repeated. “Why do you want to leave with me? You don’t even know me.” “I know ye freed me, and that is no small thing,” Robert replied. “I also know that as soon as Nicneven kens I’ve left me post, she will send her creatures to retrieve me.”“Creatures?”“Aye. And I do no’ want to be here when they arrive.”I took a deep breath and got to my feet, Robert following suit. Once we were standing I looked into his clear blue eyes, his guileless face, and sighed. He was either telling the truth, or he was the greatest actor in the world. Or I was the world’s biggest idiot; the jury was still out on that. “Well, let’s go.”“Go?” he repeated hopefully.“If you’re telling the truth—and I’m not saying that you are—I can’t just leave you here. And, if you’re not telling the truth, I’ll drop you at the nearest police station,” I added, trying to act tough in front of the armored man with the sword.Robert inclined his head, and took both of my hands in his. “Lass, soon enough ye will ken that I only speak what’s true.” He once again brought my knuckles to his lips; this time, I let him kiss me. It was nice, having one’s hand kissed by a dark, handsome man. “Karina Siobhan Stewart, I am now your charge, and I shall follow your every command.”“Okay. Um.” I looked him over and issued my first command. “First of all, you can’t tromp around Aberfoyle wearing chain mail. You’re going to have to take off your armor.”

Jennifer Allis Provost writes books about faeries, orcs and elves. Zombies too. She grew up in the wilds of Western Massachusetts and had read every book in the local library by age twelve. (It was a small library). An early love of mythology and folklore led to her epic fantasy series, The Chronicles of Parthalan, and her day job as a cubicle monkey helped shape her urban fantasy, Copper Girl. When she’s not writing about things that go bump in the night (and sometimes during the day) she’s working on her MFA in Creative Nonfiction.
Web and blog: https://authorjenniferallisprovost.com/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/copperraven
Twitter: https://twitter.com/parthalan
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/2975887.Jennifer_Allis_Provost
Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Jennifer-Allis-Provost/e/B003LXSUFU/
Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/jennallis/
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Published on June 04, 2017 23:00
June 3, 2017
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Published on June 03, 2017 16:37
June 1, 2017
Writing the Wolf by Steffanie Holmes


Genre: paranormal romance, shifters
Publisher: Bacchanalia House
Date of Publication: May 18, 2017
ASIN: B06W58YNT6
Word Count: 70k
Cover Artist: Aria at Resplendant Covers
Tagline: Rosa just wants to be left alone to write her book, but when werewolves attempt to kidnap her, she realizes her neighbor Caleb is the only one who can protect her. But Caleb is hiding a secret of his own … fur and sparks fly in this hot paranormal romance from USA Today bestselling author Steffanie Holmes.
Book Description:
Sink your teeth into the hot new werewolf paranormal romance from USA Today bestselling author, Steffanie Holmes!
Rosa
I need to escape.
After those racist bastards destroyed my home, I can’t face the world again.I’ve rented a cabin in the heart of the Crookshollow forest. I’m going to lock myself away and work on my book. I’m going to write my story.
And I absolutely, positively WILL NOT think about Caleb, the hunky labourer who’s fixing up my cabin.
No way.
I won’t think about the way his eyes melt my heart, and his smile melts my panties.I’m too emotionally raw right now. I can’t handle a fling, especially not with a white guy.
Especially not a guy like him. A guy who shags and leaves. I can’t handle any more heartache.
Caleb
Rosa Parker – clever writer, black woman, total hottie.
The connection between us sizzles – there’s no denying it: this woman is my mate.
When I’m near her, all I want to do is claim her.
If only I wasn’t the biggest threat to her life right now.
With a rogue wolf pack after my hide, I can’t afford a distraction. Even a distraction as alluring as her.
I need to keep my wolfish instincts in check.
But I can’t help myself.
Rosa Parker has got under my skin.
And I won’t stop until I’ve made her mine.
Writing the Wolf is a standalone novel with an HEA. It’s the second book in the hot new paranormal romance series by USA Today bestselling author Steffanie Holmes. Read on if you love spunky heroines, pack politics, and a hero so hot he’ll have you howling for more.
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Excerpt 1
The toilet didn’t flush.
You can’t be serious. I am not doing this. I’m not living in a cabin with a toilet that doesn’t work.
I yanked the cord again, harder this time.
The loo made a gurgling sound, but nothing else happened.
“You’ve got to be kidding.” I said aloud, my voice sounding hollow in the darkness. Great. This is just perfect. I should have listened more carefully to Rita’s warnings about the plumbing. What had she said, while I was busy thinking about the fire again?
Even when I was hundreds of miles away, Old Garsmouth still managed to fuck up my life.
Well fine, I wasn’t going to deal with this problem in the dark. I’d call a plumber in the morning. I slammed down the lid, and turned on the tap to wash my hand. A tiny trickle came out, followed by nothing except a loud, thumping noise from the pipes.
“Aargh!” I pounded my fist against the wall. Something scuttled across my knuckles.
“Aargh!” I yanked my hand away and stumbled out the door, straight into a tall stranger who was standing on the path.
“Do you need some help?” A deep voice boomed in my ear, with the familiar heavy vowels of a Scottish accent. Huge arms wrapped around my body.
“Aargh!” I flailed my arms about, tearing myself away from his grip. Who the hell was that? Why was some guy walking around my cabin at night?
And why did my body suddenly feel so strange? It was as though I’d stuck my finger in a light socket. All the hair on my body stood to attention. I could only imagine what the frizz on top of my head must look like. My heart thundered in my chest, but this wasn’t fear – it was something else. It almost felt like … excitement.
I fought against the overwhelming urge to throw myself back into the arms of the stranger. What is that about?
I backed against the side of the loo, and studied the stranger. Even in the moonlight, it was obvious he was the world’s most attractive man. Well maybe not the most … Idris Elba was still alive, of course, and Sam Heughan. But this guy would certainly make top five. And he had the significant advantage in that he was in my immediate vicinity, although I still had yet to ascertain if that was a good thing or not.
He had long, floppy red hair that tumbled around his face in tousled waves. A line of dark stubble crossed his strong, square jaw, and the corners of his mouth lifted up into a cheeky half-grin. Eyes of blue ice looked me up and down with predator-like focus. Even though his thick leather jacket, I could see the dark shapes of a tattoo poking out from the side of his collar. He carried a metal box in his hand. A gold ring dangled from the top of his right ear. God, I’d love to grab that with my tongue and—
What are you even thinking? This is nuts. That’s a white guy, standing in the dark. Hot or not, he can’t be there for any good reason.
I backed away further, trying to ignore the desire surging through my body. Stay alert, Rosa. Ignore your body for the moment. It’s probably having some kind of seizure. If he makes a move, turn and run for the path at the other side of the cabin—
“Are you having some plumbing issues?” The stranger asked, taking a step forward.
I held up a hand. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” I demanded, in a voice that oozed the confidence I did not feel. “You’re sneaking around my cabin in the middle of the night wearing all black, you scare me half to death, and the first thing you have to say to me is about the plumbing?”
He shrugged, a full-on wicked grin spreading across his face, the kind of grin that might move him from top five hottest guys on earth into the top three. “Why not? I help lots of women with their plumbing.”
“Don’t be disgusting. Are you here to attack me? I warn you, I’m dangerous when provoked.” I tried to make my feet move back, but they were frozen in place.
“Oh, I bet you are.” There was that grin again. Cocky, self-assured. Sexy as hell. Damn this guy. “In all seriousness, though. I just came to see if you were all right. I’ve brought my tools.”
He jiggled the box in his hand, which upon closer inspection did indeed look like a toolbox. Certainly not big enough to carry a body around in. That was some positive news.
I still wasn’t buying it. “Do you just randomly walk around the forest in the dark, looking for plumbing disasters? You still haven’t told me your name.”
The guy set down the box, and held up both hands in a gesture of supplication. “My name’s Caleb. Rita hired me to do some carpentry work around the place. I’m staying in the cabin just over there.” He jerked his thumb at the trees behind us. “She asked me to come out and check on you, offer my services for whatever you need.” Caleb grinned again. “Looks like I got here just in time.”

Steffanie Holmes is a USA Today bestselling author of dark and steamy paranormal romance. Her books feature clever, witty heroines, wild shifters, cunning witches and alpha males who get what they want.
Before becoming a writer, Steffanie worked as an archaeologist and museum curator. She loves to explore historical settings and ancient conceptions of love and possession. From Dark Age Europe to crumbling gothic estates, Steffanie is fascinated with how love can blossom between the most unlikely characters.
Steffanie lives in New Zealand with her husband and a horde of cantankerous cats. Learn more about Steffanie at her website: www.steffanieholmes.com. She also writes dark science fiction under the name S C Green.
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Published on June 01, 2017 03:00
May 31, 2017
What you read as a teenager is probably not what you read...

What you read as a teenager is probably not what you read as an adult. When did this change and what have you noticed in your reading list that is different?
Although I was mostly into horror books as a teenager, I rarely read that genre anymore. Don’t get me wrong I still like a good scare, it’s just that no one has elevated past the initial bumps in the night which enamored me as a teen. The Shining, Carrie, Ghost Story, Watchers, Phantoms—these books were eye opening thrills for someone on the cusp of adulthood. Romance wasn’t really my thing; a few Danielle Steel books here and there mixed in with some Catherine Coulter were tossed into my TBR list. However, my problem with the genre at the time was mostly the women were damsels in distress. Since my mind doesn’t work that way, I stuck with the creatures under the bed.
Around college a shift happened where suspense became my main focus—dominant women who had to hunt down the killer before the maniac turned the tables and hunted them. These books were fun to read, and my feminism card was never called into question. Unfortunately, the backdrop was always dim. Wallowing around in the darkness of suspense took a toll on my imagination, which forced me to find lighter fare. I stumbled upon Nora Roberts, Jennifer Cruise, and Susan Elizabeth Phillips. These masters of romance don’t do victims. Instead, they do fierce women in screwed up situations. I can deal with that more so than the chick who needs to be saved. A lot of historicals use this device, since real history wasn’t so hip to women’s lib it was just easier to put the heroine in the hands of a strong buck of a man.
As of late my reading list has taken another shift—kick ass witches, werewolf shifters, and a Marilyn Monroe look-a-like who doubles as a detective. I must need a good laugh because all these books are light and fun and not one damsel in distress. Don’t get me wrong, if any of my horror peeps put out a new book I’ll be the first in line. If Beverly Jenkins decides to give me a feisty heroine in an era that didn’t have working plumbing I’m there. My reading list is ever-changing and I am open to almost anything.
The one thing I know for sure is I will never give up on a quick thinking women.

Genre: Interracial Romance/ Action
Publisher: Resplendence
ISBN: 978-1-607350974-6
Pages: 130
Count: 40,000
Book Description:
One psychotic soldier was to blame.
Years ago, Skye Everwood survived a vicious assault, and now, she’s losing her eyesight as she faces her worst nightmare… Her attacker is back to finish what he started.
When the love of her life unexpectedly shows up at her restaurant, she knows it’s not a coincidence. Skye never understood why Bodhi King disappeared after that fateful day. Their plans to get married went up in smoke, just like her dreams to stay in the JAG Core. Unsure if she can trust him with her heart—let alone her life—she searches to find answers to why he left in the first place.
Amazon
About the Author:
Amber Malloy dreamed of being a double agent but couldn’t pass the psyche evaluation. Crushed by despair that she couldn’t legally shoot things, Amber pursued her second career choice as pastry chef. When she’s not writing or whipping up a mean Snickers Cheesecake, she occasionally spies on her sommelier. Amber is convinced he’s faking his French accent.
Amber loves to talk to her readers and can be found at www.ambermalloy.com
Twitter: https://twitter.com/authambermalloy
Website: http://ambermalloy.blogspot.com/

Published on May 31, 2017 00:00