Roxanne Rhoads's Blog, page 321

Character Interview with Molly Ivers from Chicks Dig the Accent by Roxanne D. Howard

Hello, my name is Roxanne D. Howard, and I write contemporary erotic romance. 
Please enjoy this interview with Molly Ivers, the main character in my newest book, Chicks Dig the Accent, an erotic modern-day fairy tale, loosely based on Cinderella. 
Art of Molly and Evan below by Bianca Duarte.

1. Tell us about yourself.
My name is Molly Ivers. I’m twenty-four, and living in Detroit, Michigan with my best friend Nell. We share an apartment together. I’m finishing up grad school and about to move to Paris.
2. Do you have any nicknames? 
Yep, Nell calls me Molls, and Evan Castle, my friend and downstairs neighbor, calls me Ivers.
3. If you were a Star Wars® character, which one would it be?
I think I’d probably be Luke Skywalker, from A New Hope. I am at that point in my life where I want to get off of Tattooine and stretch my Force muscles, so to speak. I am looking forward to my internship in Paris and in starting a new chapter in my life!
4. When is your birthday? 
February 16th. I’m a Pisces. Be gentle. ;)
5. Current relationship status?
It’s complicated. There was this… thing with someone I know a while back, but it didn’t work out. I just barely broke up with my boyfriend Sean, so I’m kind of at a crossroads right now with everything. Nell thinks that’s my cue to party like it’s 1999. Ha ha, we’ll see.
6. Do you like to sing in the shower?
Occasionally, but I suck at it. Evan, on the other hand, is a lead singer in a rock band, and once in a while I can hear him through the vents while I’m getting ready or in the shower, which is nice! He can seriously sing, and he’s good.
7. What's the funniest movie you've ever seen?
Coming to America is pretty damn funny. I miss late eighties Eddie Murphy. I also really loved The Wedding Singer.
8. What mythical creature would you want to be?
Oh, I am a huge history buff and love mythology! I would want to be a Valkyrie. I love how strong the Valkyrie women were depicted. Sort of like if She-Ra and Lady Godiva had a kick-ass child. I’d love to be that strong.
9. Can you fake any accents?
I can do a fake southern accent, but beyond that I stink at it. Nell is really good at imitating her grandmother, who is originally from Jamaica. But I love accents, all kinds. British, Hispanic, French, Australian, you name it.
10. If you could meet anyone from history, who would you meet and why?
Claude Monet. I love art, and his paintings are so beautiful. I’d ask him what it was like growing up in Giverny and what inspired him to become an artist in the first place.
Let us know if you have any questions for Molly in the comments below!
Chicks Dig the AccentRoxanne D. Howard
Genre: Contemporary erotic romance, modern-day fairy tale, Fairy Tales Revisited
Publisher: Loose Id, LLC.
Date of Publication:  August 23, 2016
ISBN: 978-1-68252-207-3
Number of pages: 105Word Count: 33,170        

Cover artist: Natasha Snow     
Book Description: 
Molly Ivers has always known she’d marry a foreign man with a delicious accent. Six months ago, in a night of unbridled passion, she gave her virginity to her friend and sexy-as-can-be neighbor, rocker Evan Castle. Unfortunately, thanks to his swarm of constant groupies, things didn’t work out, but they remained friends. Now, after having just broken up with her boring, run-of-the-mill right-wing boyfriend, she’s on the verge of finishing her graduate degree and moving to Paris. She's desperate to shake things up--and find that sexy foreign man.

She’s had a crush on Nicholas Sullivan, her British professor, for as long as she can remember. So when opportunity comes knocking to spice up her appearance, in the form of a French life coach, she hires Jean Luc Dubois to help her lbecome more Parisian and hip, to reflect the person she is within. Thanks to Jean Luc’s magic, she starts to catch her hunky English prof’s eye, but the more time she spends with Evan, the more she begins to realize that her Prince Charming might just be the one she’s known all along.

Loose ID     Amazon
Excerpt #1“So, you’re going through with it?”“Going through with what?” They both looked into the living room, where a bemused Evan stood half-naked and barefoot in a pair of black pajama bottoms. Molly licked nectar off the peach on the end of her fork to save it from dropping to the floor. Evan’s jaw tightened, and his eyes gleamed as he zeroed in on her. He cleared his throat and lifted an empty half gallon of milk. “Sorry, you left the door cracked open. I came to borrow milk.”“Jesus, Evan! Knock next time, or at least text. I’m in my panties!” Nell smacked him on the arm and tugged down her nightshirt as she ran past him into her bedroom.“Sorry,” he said, but he seemed distracted as he strode toward Molly, eyes glued to her lips. She sucked the rest of her peach slice into her mouth and wiped at a little of the nectar at the corner of her lips. Her cheeks blazed at the hungry longing in his eyes. She turned away to open the fridge to get the milk. It wasn’t uncommon for them to borrow food from one another, and he always watched out for them. He had a comforting, protective nature she’d gotten used to.She grew painfully aware of her night shorts, which had a tendency to ride up her butt and cut off at midthigh, and her thin white tank top. Could he see her nipples? And jeez, Louise, why did they have to harden every time he came near her?She pushed hair out of her face and began to pour the milk into his empty half gallon. “Help yourself to the fruit in the bowl there. Nell had leftovers. How much milk do you want?”“Enough for a bowl of cereal, please. I’ll get some at the store later.” She’d only heard his voice drop as low and husky during sex. She stopped after she poured enough milk, then gave him extra.Evan reached over her to open a nearby drawer. He took out a fork. He inserted it into the flesh of a peach slice and brought it to his lips.“Forbidden fruit, hmm?”He teased the fruit around his lips with a wicked smirk. He winked at her and sank his teeth into half the peach as he watched her, licking it. Her mouth went dry. Oh, he knew what he was doing. He chewed, licked his bottom lip, and held out the fork.“Want some?”Before she could gain common sense and say no, she closed her eyes and parted her lips. He slid the remaining slice in. Molly closed her mouth around it. He withdrew the fork tines slowly from her closed lips, and his finger grazed her lower lip.“You’ve got a bit on your…”
She opened her eyes and sharply inhaled. He’d moved closer, right there, and was about to kiss her. She turned away, burning.
About the Author:
Roxanne D. Howard is an author with Loose Id. Her first novel, At the Heart of the Stone, was released in February 2016. She is an Army veteran, has a bachelor's degree in Psychology and English, and enjoys reading classical literature and Stephen King. She is also an avid musical theater nut and loves everything related to marine biology. She is the proud mother of two beautiful girls, several pets, and loves to spend time with her husband and children when she's not writing. Roxanne and her family currently reside in the Midwest United States. Roxanne loves to hear from her readers, and she can be contacted at author@roxannedhoward.com.
To find out more, please visit her website at www.roxannedhoward.com  
Twitter: https://twitter.com/RoxanneDHoward
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100010437978489
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/15019190.Roxanne_D_Howard

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Spotlight and Giveaway Her Black Heart by A.J. Norris

Her Black HeartDark Amulet SeriesBook TwoA.J. Norris
Genre: paranormal romance
Publisher: Limitless Publishing, LLCDate of Publication: August 23, 2016
Number of pages: 345
Cover Artist: Deranged Doctor Designs
Book Description:
Julia Dunham is a monster. Her heart has been consumed by an amulet meant to create terror…
As a young girl, Julia received an amulet tainted by Abaddon, the Supreme Demon of the Netherworld, and the sigil slowly corrupts her heart. The power of the deceptive pendant gains the attention of her former employer, Maurice. He sends thugs to murder Julia and steal the amulet.
Immediately upon her death, Abaddon traps her on Earth, leaving her obsessed with retrieving the amulet. Julia must find a way to overcome her deadly obsession or be responsible for unleashing thousands of demons on humanity.
Ra’zael the Guardian fell for the wrong girl and lost his wings. He isn’t about to let it happen again…
Ra’zael is tasked with the mission of helping Julia overcome her compulsion to locate the amulet, though he’s reluctant to get involved. But as a fallen angel, he doesn’t have much choice—it’s the only way to earn back his wings. His fall from grace is still fresh in his mind, but despite his best effort, his passion for Julia can’t be ignored. He has to save her from herself.
Julia must make her own choices. Redeem herself or condemn Earth and her soul forever…
Despite Ra’zael’s warnings, Julia tracks Maurice and the amulet to Chicago. She has every reason to kill Maurice. He murdered her. He stole from her. Spending eternity in the Netherworld might be worth watching him die.
Ra’zael knows she still has goodness left inside her…he’s seen it. Julia just has to find it and fight the evil of…  Her Black Heart.
Amazon
Excerpt: “What am I going to do with you?” he’d said. Julia could think of a lot of things Raz could do to her. “You can do anything you want to me.” Ra’zael smiled and looked heavenward. A heady chuckle left his throat. “Anything? You may want to reconsider that statement.” All sorts of scenarios danced around inside her mind, things involving rope and leather. Fantasies, yes, but fun to think about. “Uhhh…” “Yeah, that’s what I thought.” The angel laughed quietly. She eased back into the seat and decided to change the subject; after all, he’d just taken her virginity. No sense in being greedy. “Why are your wings gray?” she asked. “Do you have Abaddon’s poison in you?” “Taint. I never allowed him to kiss me, and as far as I know he didn’t.” He shrugged. “Wings get dingy for lots of reasons. Probably because I was in Netherworld so long. I did bad shit.” “Yeah, but to bad people, right?” “Mostly.” “Like what?” Raz made an aggravated sounding growl. “Arghh…Julia. What’s this obsession you have with wanting to know the specifics? I thought I was a demon and acted accordingly.” “Just curious.” She shoved her hands inside the front pouch pocket of her sweatshirt. The wad of cash from the Demon Ruler burned her palms. Julia took deep breaths as guilt panged her black heart. She focused on Raz’s chest and tried to match his breathing pattern—steady and rhythmic. Only his inhales and exhales were too long and the train car started spinning. “You all right?” Her head bobbled. “Hm…wha…” “I asked if you were all right.” “F-Fine…don’t I l-look all righ…” Julia’s words slurred and trailed off. She woke up cradled in his arms. For someone who didn’t like to be touched, he certainly did a lot of touching. Not being able to resist, she reached up with her hand to cup his cheek. He veered his head away. “Don’t,” he snapped. Her bottom lip quivered. Why did she care? She was a monster. He looked over his shoulder at the chair next to him. “Sorry,” he mumbled. “What was that…that sounded like an apology,” Julia said softly. He guided her head to his chest and she sighed. “What’s going to happen after we find the amulet?” My amulet. “What do you mean?” he asked and relaxed his head back on the seat. “Let’s worry about getting the necklace back first then we’ll talk afterward.”
I can’t talk later; I have to kill you.
About the Author:                                                                                               A.J. Norris is a romantic suspense and paranormal romance novelist.  She began writing as a way to dim down the voices inside her head. She enjoys being able to get inside someone else's head, even a fictional one, and see what they see. Watching how her characters deal with difficult situations or squirm with the uncomfortable ones make the hard work of writing all worth it. She is a movie buff, especially book adaptations, loves watching her son play baseball and communing with other writers.  She lives with her family who are extremely tolerant (at least most of the time) of all her late nights behind the computer.
www.ajnorrisauthor.com
www.twitter.com/AJNorris_Author
www.facebook.com/alisajnorris/
https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/14888581.A_J_Norris
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A Review of Effortless Healing by Dr Joseph Mercola

This book is chock full of all the information someone needs to heal themself.

Unfortunately unless you are wealthy, some of the advice is impratical because of the expense and effort it takes. Which is exactly why so many face health issues in the first place- being healthy is a luxury. Good, healthy organic food is expensive and time consuming to store and make. Clean water can be an issue, too. 

However implementing any of the healty alternatives in this book is better than none and there are creative ways around everything.

Take what advice you can and make it work for you. I plan to because I am at a point in my life where change needs to happen. 

Interview - All the Wounds in Shadow by Anise Eden

Welcome, Anise. Please tell us about your latest release.

ALL THE WOUNDS IN SHADOW is the second book in The Healing Edge Series, paranormal romantic suspense novels that blend the supernatural and the psychological. The first book, ALL THE BROKEN PLACES, introduces Cate Duncan, a therapist who is struggling to cope after her mother’s death. Cate’s world is forever transformed when she learns that she is an empath and is recruited to work for the MacGregor Group, a clinic staffed by a unique group of alternative healers. 

In this sequel, ALL THE WOUNDS IN SHADOW, Cate has just begun her paranormal training—and a romance with her magnetic new boss, Ben—when the MacGregor Group is called into action to help solve an attempted murder. An acclaimed neuroscientist has been poisoned. Cate and her colleagues must use their unique talents to unlock the victim’s mind, discovering who attacked him and why. But for Cate, the case reopens painful wounds and threatens to unravel her budding relationship with Ben. When an unexpected crisis hits, Cate must find the courage to trust completely in Ben’s heart and her friends’ gifts, or her own life will be in jeopardy. 

Do you have a special formula for creating characters' names? Do you try to match a name with a certain meaning to attributes of the character or do you search for names popular in certain time periods or regions?

I don’t have a particular formula, but I do put a lot of thought into names. I spend an excessive amount of time on Wikipedia and baby name websites researching their meanings and histories, trying to find just the right fit. The process varies from character to character, however. For example, I could have given my two main characters any number of names that matched their personal qualities, but the deciding factor was that I liked the sounds that the names “Cate” and “Ben” made, both individually and together. 

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?

The central characters of The Healing Edge Series landed in my head more or less fully formed. I could see and hear them as whole, real people from the start. With secondary characters, I have a general idea of who they are, but they develop as I write, and they are more malleable; I feel more comfortable making changes to fit the demands of the plot as it develops.

What is your favorite scene from the book? Could you share a little bit of it, without spoilers of course?

Truth be told, I have a lot of favorite scenes! But if I had to pick one, it would be the scene in which all of the members of the MacGregor Group are working together to try to help Cate through a crisis. Here is a little taste:

***
“But we can’t do this!” I cried out. “It’s going to be like the geese all over again!”

Ben stopped in mid-sock removal. “The what?”

“My mother told me in a dream that we were geese in a past life, and I got you shot!”

Ben shook his head and continued to remove his sock. “I don’t believe in past lives.”

Kai looked toward the ceiling. “Oh, please, Benjamin, don’t be an ignoramus.”

Ben put his bare foot on the floor and looked into my eyes, his focus intense. “Cate, look around you. Don’t you think you have enough things to worry about in this life without being concerned with what happened in other ones?”

I barely had the courage to whisper, “But if anything happens to you—”

“Listen to me.” Ben rested his hand on my knee. “Nothing is going to happen to me. We are going to get this done, and it’s happening right now. So come on. Nursery rhymes. Let’s go.” Ben started removing his other sock.

“Oh for the love of all that’s holy!” I tried and failed to close my eyes, unable to tear them away from Ben. Something tickled my chin. “Please don’t let that be drool,” I whispered before out of sheer mortification, I forced my mind back to nursery rhymes.

***


Can you tell readers a little bit about the world building in the book/series? How does this world differ from our normal world?

Some people don’t believe in paranormal abilities such as telepathy, aura reading, and mediumship, but for people who do, those aspects of the world in The Healing Edge Series are already part of our normal world. And although many medical institutions now incorporate complementary techniques such as acupuncture and Reiki, I had to imagine what it would look like if an alternative healing clinic also used paranormally gifted individuals, and worked in cooperation with Western medical providers. I also invented a piece of mythology for the series—a sort of origins theory for paranormal gifts dating back to the Bronze Age—but I’ll let readers discover more about that themselves.

With the book being part of a series, are there any character or story arcs, that readers jumping in somewhere other than the first book, need to be aware of? Can these books be read as stand alones?

My goal has been to write each book so that it can be read and enjoyed either as a stand-alone or as part of the series. I’ve tried to include enough backstory so that a new reader jumping into the middle of the series won’t feel lost in any way. However, readers who prefer to follow stories from the beginning should know that the books cover three chronological weeks and build on one another.

Do any of your characters have similar characteristics of yourself in them and what are they?

I’ve heard people who interpret dreams say that every person who appears in your dream represents a part of yourself. I have found that to be true of the central characters in this series, as well. It’s as though I’m standing in a room full of mirrors, and in each mirror I see one of the characters, reflecting some aspect of my personality. Each character also has many aspects that are completely unlike me, of course, but they are all kindred souls.  

What can readers expect next from you?

ALL THE LIGHT THERE IS, the third book in The Healing Edge series, is coming out in Spring/Summer 2017. Thrown into a completely different setting full of mystery and intrigue, the MacGregor Group faces down an ominous new threat. Meanwhile, Cate and Ben struggle to protect one another as their relationship deepens. I’m excited about all of the ways in which the various threads from the first two books are weaving together, and I look forward to sharing this final installment with readers!

Where can readers find you on the web?

I am most active on Facebook and Twitter. You can find all of my information and latest updates, as well as sign up for my newsletter, on AniseEden.com. 

Would you like to leave readers with a little teaser or excerpt from the book?

Sure! Here are a couple of teasers





All the Wounds in ShadowThe Healing EdgeBook TwoAnise Eden
Genre: Paranormal Romance/Romantic Suspense
Publisher: Diversion Publishing
Date of Publication: August 23, 2016
ISBN:  978-1682302873ASIN: B01G5Y6GO8
Number of pages: 240Word Count: 81,645
Book Description:
For fans of Karen Robards and Shiloh Walker, Anise Eden brings us the mesmerizing sequel to her paranormal romantic suspense novel All the Broken Places.
Cate's enemies aren't just surrounding her―they're inside her head.
Therapist Cate Duncan has just accepted a job with the MacGregor Group, a unique collective of alternative healers. She’s excited by the prospect of honing her empathic healing techniques among others like herself―aura readers, telepaths, crystal healers, and more. The fact that Cate just started dating Ben, her magnetic new boss, is an added bonus.
Before Cate can settle into her new routine, the poisoning of a prominent neuroscientist draws the entire MacGregor Group into both a federal investigation and an even more insidious threat. Protected by Ben’s former Marine Corps unit, Cate and her colleagues must use their alternative healing methods to solve the crime as their patient clings to life. The responsibility of discovering crucial information falls to Cate and her parapsychological powers.
But for Cate, unraveling the mystery means reopening wounds that had just begun to heal―and in the environment of the Marine Corps unit, differences between Cate and Ben become clearer, straining their budding romance. When a new crisis looms, Cate must trust in her colleagues’ gifts and the strength of Ben’s love, finding the courage to confront her deepest and most terrifying demons―or her own life will be at risk.


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ALL THE WOUNDS IN SHADOW – Excerpt #1by Anise Eden
In my dream, only the crabs’ lives were in jeopardy. Mom and I chose a spot on the pier that was shaded by a nearby oak, hoping for some relief from the humid heat. The buzzing and clicking of crickets and cicadas swelled as the summer afternoon ripened.“Hold it perfectly still, Catie,” Mom whispered. “We want them to think it’s just a strange-looking plant.”“I’m trying.” But after an hour, my arm ached from holding the crab net steady. “Maybe the bait isn’t rotten enough to attract them.”Mom jiggled the string with the chicken neck tied to the end, making it dance just beneath the water’s surface. “Should I pull it out so you can check it?”“Ew, gross!” I grimaced. “No thanks. I believe you.”Suddenly, her whole body tensed. “Look, there’s one!”The water was green and nearly opaque with algae. Staring down, I could just make out the ghostly limbs of a blue crab swimming up toward the bait.“Wait until he’s really absorbed in what he’s doing and then scoop him up,” she murmured. “Not too quickly, though. You don’t want to scare him.”“Right.” Once the crab started attacking the chicken neck, I slid the net beneath him and slowly lifted it to the surface.“You got him!” Mom jumped to her feet. “Pull him out, and let’s have a look!”“He feels really heavy!” We exchanged smiles of victory as I raised the dripping net up to eye level. “Oh, no,” Mom said. “It’s beautiful, a great catch. But we have to throw it back.”“Don’t say that!” I moaned. “Why?”“It’s a female. It’s poisonous.”I examined the crab. She was right: it had a full, rounded apron. With a sigh, I tossed the crab back into the water. “Females aren’t poisonous, Mom, just illegal to catch. You know that.”“Whatever you say.” Mom walked over to the edge of the pier and turned around to face me. “I have to go now. Don’t follow me.” Before I could even grasp what she was doing, she had folded her arms across her chest, closed her eyes, and tilted her stiffened body backwards into the water.“Mom!” I leapt forward, reaching the edge of the pier just as she hit the surface with a sharp splash. Remembering my lifeguard training, I got down on my belly, lay on the wooden planks, and thrust my arm into the water. But she was already out of reach. I grabbed the crab net and plunged the handle down towards her, but she kept her arms folded, eyes closed. “Mom, grab the handle!” I cried out, but she kept sinking. Within seconds she was nothing more than a whitish blur. “Don’t worry! I’m coming!” Screw lifeguard training, I thought as I kicked off my shoes and prepared to go in after her. But just as I was about to dive, something dragged me backwards by the waist. I looked down to find a man’s arm wrapped around me—a man’s arm in a blue suit jacket. A familiar voice said, “Oh no you don’t.”“Ben, let go of me!” I struggled to free myself from his hold. Then I realized that I was yelling out loud, awake and in bed, thrashing about and wrestling with the python of sheets tangled around me. My cell phone beeped and vibrated along the surface of the bedside table as the alarm went off. Meanwhile, my heart pounded in my throat. In my mind’s eye, all I could see was my mother sinking further and further into the river. Goddammit, I thought, vigorously rubbing the tears from my eyes. Would my dreams ever stop transforming into nightmares—reminders that I had failed to see that my mother was in crisis, that I had failed to save her ? I strained to hear Ben bounding up the stairs to see what the yelling was about, but there was only silence. Had I only cried out in my dream? “Ben?” I called, loudly enough for him to hear me if he was awake. Still no response. So he was still asleep. That was odd. Ben told me he’d never lost the early-riser habit he had developed in the Marine Corps. I turned off my cell phone alarm, put on my robe and slippers, and padded down the stairs. But he wasn’t on the sofa, where I’d left him the night before. In fact, he was nowhere.I scanned the first floor of my tiny row house and found a note he’d left on the coffee table. “Had to go in early. See you at work. Bring a bag packed for a few days.”Well, that’s cryptic, I thought as a bud of irritation formed. I flopped down on the couch and breathed slowly, trying to bring my heart rate back down to normal after the dream I’d had. “Bring a bag packed for a few days.” But packed for what? Given how focused he was on my training, I somehow doubted that Ben was planning a romantic getaway. I tried Ben’s cell. No answer. I tried Pete’s cell. Again, no answer. Whatever was happening at the office, it must have been keeping them both occupied.At least I had another way to find out what was going on with Ben. I sat cross-legged on the couch. With my hands resting on my knees, I closed my eyes and took a few slow, deep breaths. Then I pictured the filament of light that connected my heart to Ben’s, and focused my mind.In an instant, the psychic portal between us opened. As my consciousness reached out and touched his, I fell back against the couch, struck by the intensity of his emotions. He was worried about something or someone, and there was a definite sense of urgency. Still, there was no actual fear. That told me that while some kind of crisis was going on, at least Ben was safe. Then his feelings for me crashed through the portal, flooding me. Whatever else he was dealing with, I was on his mind. Once again I was overwhelmed by the strength of his feelings. Although I knew the portal only flowed one way, I tried to send my own feelings back in his direction. I pulled my consciousness back into my body and opened my eyes. My gaze immediately settled upon my right hand, and the exquisite ring Ben had given me the day before. The gold band was carved to look like two birds in flight, holding a luminous round piece of Scottish agate with their beaks and the tips of their wings. He’d wanted to give me something concrete to remind me of how he felt about me when he wasn’t there, to reassure me when I had worries or doubts. A soft warmth bloomed in my chest as I twirled the ring slowly around my finger, admiring its craftsmanship. We’d agreed that I would decide when to tell people that the ring was from him—and that we were dating. In the meantime, we were keeping both things a secret. I wasn’t quite ready to go public with our new relationship, and Ben didn’t want me to feel any pressure. As I went upstairs and laid my suitcase open on the bed, I thought about my disturbing dream. My mother’s fall into the water was obviously a reference to her suicide three months before. But the poisonous female crab? And Ben stopping me from saving someone’s life? I knew he didn’t like it when I put myself in danger, but he’d never just let someone drown. Then again, maybe there’s nothing to decipher, I told myself. Sometimes a dream is just a dream. I tried to content myself with that thought as I showered, dressed, and packed in a hurry. I was anxious to get to the office and find out where we were going—and what crisis had made Ben leave that morning without so much as giving me a kiss good-bye.




About the Author:
Author Anise Eden writes The Healing Edge paranormal romantic suspense series for Diversion Books. She spends most of her time tucked away in her writing nook imagining things that aren’t there. On those rare occasions when she emerges from seclusion, Anise may be spotted in coffee shops, staring at her laptop screen and silently moving her lips as she reviews bits of dialogue. Although Anise claims that she’s the one in charge, the characters in her head do sometimes make her laugh out loud at inappropriate moments.
Visit her online at http://aniseeden.com
http://twitter.com/aniseeden
http://facebook.com/authoraniseeden
http://goodreads.com/aniseeden

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Music Playlist - Beautifully Burned by C.J. Burright

Music has always played a huge part in my life, and if I had the skills, notes and instruments would’ve been my path. Alas, my singing range is barely an octave, I held first chair flute in middle school and promptly lost it to an overachieving, competitive, music teacher suck-up (no I’m not bitter), my guitar playing frightens animals and children, and while I can play the piano well if I practice my patooty off, mediocre is the best I’ll ever be. Yes, you may take a moment of silence to sniffle for me.


While writing fulfills my need for creativity, music will always be the secret love of my heart, and it’s no surprise that certain songs inspire scenes in my books and help me breathe them to life. Here are a few that helped me color Beautifully Burned.

Broken – SeetherBreathe No More – EvanescenceWorld So Cold – Three Days GraceFire and Fury - SkilletBreaking Inside - ShinedownWhat Have You Done – Within TemptationSo Cold – Breaking BenjaminBurning Bridges – OneRepublicAnimal I Have Become – Three Days GraceMonster – SkilletFootsteps – Pop EvilFully Alive – FlyleafCut the Cord – ShinedownRise Above This – SeetherFix Me – Feeding the WolvesGet Out Alive – Three Days GraceGood Enough – Evanescence Animal I Have Become – Three Days Grace
Want my playlist? Here’s the link to my Spotify Beautifully Burned playlist. Happy listening!


Beautifully BurnedThe Dreamcaster SeriesBook TwoC.J. Burright
Genre:  Paranormal Romance
Publisher:  Ravenrock Publishing, LLC
Date of Publication:  8/23/2016
ISBN:  9780996147ASIN: B01IX4GYAY
Number of pages:  274Word Count:  74,700
Cover Artist:  Fiona Jayde
Book Description:
Grandma warned me to resist him.
I know what he is. Even if he doesn't sparkle in the sun, hiss at holy water, or go by the traditional name of vampire, I know.
He doesn't want or need my blood. He wants my dreams...more specifically, my nightmares. And I've got oodles of those, so many they leak.
He's emotionally scarred, growly, dangerous, and kindles all my senses. Love isn't on his agenda. Having him for a guardian isn't on my list of fun, either. My touch sends him into darkness.
I shouldn't want him.
I can't want him.
But I do.
If I surrender instead of escape, I'll lose everything--my sister, my will, my life. Gran forgot to tell me the most important detail of all: how am I supposed to resist him when he's everything I've ever dreamed of?
Beautifully Burned is told in a dual, third person POV, and may be read as a standalone.
Amazon


EXCERPT 1
Five steps from her truck, Ella skidded to a stop. The sexy, sober book lover leaned against the fence a few yards away, as if he’d been there the whole time.Her heart somersaulted twice. She might be tired, her thoughts preoccupied, but no way had he been there a second ago. Frick. He didn’t look like the type who scared easily and her nearest neighbor was two blocks away, so screaming would be pointless. With those long legs, he’d probably won some track medals, which nixed running for it. Her best bet was to get into her truck, lock the doors, and take off. Chin lifted high, she finished the short trek to her getaway wagon.“I must speak with you.” Whether ordering a Shirley Temple or making soft, unexpected demands in a midnight parking lot, his gravelly voice was seductive as sin.Her nerves tightened and she steadied her hands enough to jam the key in the lock. “Look, it’s late, I’m tired, and you decimated my maraschino cherry supply. Time to go home.”He pushed off the fence and ambled toward her.Ella struggled to turn the ancient lock. Stupid rust. “Bartender counselor sessions are closed until tomorrow. Sorry.”“I have questions for you.” He leaned his hip near the tailgate, too close. “They won’t take long.”“Oh, you’re a collection agent.” Thank God her voice remained cool and steady enough for the pretense. The truck lock finally gave with a loud snap. “Check’s in the mail.”“I’m interested in your dreams, not your finances.”A tremor coasted her spine and she paused, fingers wrapped around the door handle. No way was his dream comment random, but the press to escape dimmed beneath the desire to hear him out, to see if someone in the wide weird world had helpful information about her curse. A little chitchat never hurt anyone, and if he tried anything shady, she knew how to handle him. Her special self-defense was always ready. She sucked in a breath. Without knowing when or how, he had moved closer, so close she had to crane her neck to look into his face. He smelled faintly of campfire smoke, a fond reminder of the frequent overnight hiking trips she used to take with Gran and Ginny. Back then, fire had made her feel warm and safe.“A moment. Please.” He planted a hand on the door, keeping it shut and boxing her halfway with his arm. His ‘please’ sounded more like an attempt at manners than a request.Curiosity warred with concern. If he wanted to attack her, he could’ve already sliced her, diced her, and left her for the stray dogs to gnaw on. What did he want to talk about? What words had the man who lured her mother away used? She wasn’t a mindless sheep, no matter how beautiful the wolf may be, but there was no denying this man did something witchy to her blood. She wanted to know why. Maybe that would set her questions to rest, ease her guilt, cure her curse.But Ginny depended on her. She had to play it safe and get rid of him.Ella shifted and rested her back against the truck door. He didn’t move, and a secret thrill coiled in her stomach. Ignoring it, she netted all her emotions and observations, pushed them to the back of her mind, and focused on his blue sea eyes.“Go home,” she said in the hushed, haunting persuasion voice she used on drunks and perverts. “Forget me. Forget Dany’s exists. Never come here again.”He went utterly still.A bewildering stab of loss staked her chest. She’d never see him again. He’d go back to his life and she’d return to hers, no harm done, no questions answered. For some insane reason, she wanted to curl up on the asphalt and have a long, hard sob-fest.A tiny crease formed between his black eyebrows, and instead of obeying, he studied her with a scientist’s concentration. “Are you trying to compel me?” His voice was gently accusing. He leaned nearer. “I’m V’alkara. I can’t be compelled.”Ella leaned hard on the cool frame of her truck. Compel was a good explanation for her uncanny persuasion powers, and if he recognized it, getting rid of him would be harder than she thought. “Who are you?”“Daxen v’al Solanis.” He watched her, unblinking.“And V’alkara?” She swallowed the sawdust in her throat. Was that another word for vampire? “What’s that?”“Me.” His small smile made a snarling wolf look friendly. “Ready to talk now?”“You had all night to talk to me.”“I wanted you alone.”A fire bell warning clanged in her head, a command to escape, yet she couldn’t peel her attention from his jaw. Stubble shadowed the hard angles, a darkness contrary to his pale neck. She had a sharp, nearly overwhelming urge to touch him there, to experience the disparity of prickly and smooth, to slide her fingers down his throat to the ridge of his collarbone.Ella blinked rapidly and gripped the keys tight, breaking the spell. “Are you trying some hypnotic woo-woo on me? Not cool. Kindly remove your hand from my truck.”He cocked his head and his eyes flashed. “Don’t you want help with your nightmares, Ella?”


About the Author:
C.J. Burright was born and raised in Oregon and loved it so much she never left. While she has worked for years in a law office, she chooses to avoid writing legal thrillers and instead leans toward urban fantasy, paranormal romance, or—since all things medieval and magical fascinate her—fantasy romance. A member of Romance Writers of America and the Fantasy, Futuristic & Paranormal chapter, C.J. also has her 4th Dan Black Belt in Tae Kwon Do and believes stories should always include a fight scene, gratuitous or not. In what spare time she has, she enjoys working out, gardening, all things musical, Assassin’s Creed, and rooting on the Seattle Mariners (preferably with wine to curb her outrage when they lose). She shares a house with her husband, daughter, and a devoted cat herd.  
Website:  http://www.cjburright.com
Blog:  http://cjburright.com/?page_id=323
Twitter:  @CJBurright
Facebook:  https://www.facebook.com/CJ-Burright-362988090450604/
Pinterest:  https://www.pinterest.com/cburright/
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N.D.’s Top Ten Black Panther (King T’Challa) Pics

N.D.’s Top Ten Black Panther (King T’Challa) Pics


In May 2016, Captain America: Civil War was released in theatres.  
The character of T’Challa, popularly known as Black Panther, made his live action debut in this film, with actor Chadwick Boseman playing the iconic African hero. Now, for those who don’t know, I love comics. I especially love comics with great characters of color. There simply aren’t enough well-developed characters of color in mainstream and independent comics. Black Panther, created by Stan Lee and Jack Kirby in 1966, is considered the first black superhero in mainstream comics and arguably the most popular. And while there is a valid discourse on “how” characters of color are represented in comics and media, a worthy blog for another day, this blog will keep it light and focused on simply appreciating the character. Because I’m such a fan of Black Panther and Storm (Ororo Munroe, Marvel) and an unrepentant fangirl, I had a little fun when I wrote “Of Beasts and Bonds,” inserting them into the novel. I’ve included a portion of the scene where I mentioned the once iconic couple.
Cynthia stood next to her husband and Sanura to Assefa’s right, while Rachel hopped onto the desk nearest the set of windows. Kneeling, she pressed her hands to the window pane and peered down onto the quad.“You would think they’d have better things to do on a Tuesday evening than drag themselves here for a simple blessing ceremony.” Rachel glanced over her shoulder at Sanura and Assefa then down to their linked hands, Sanura having taken hold of his hand when she joined him at the window. “You guys are like King T’Challa and Queen Ororo before Marvel broke them up.”“Who?” For a woman whose first language was English, sometimes Rachel Foster made no sense at all to Assefa.“She means Black Panther and Storm. They’re comic book characters,” Cynthia explained, but it wasn’t much of a clarification since Assefa had never read a comic book….

If you saw Captain America: Civil War, and stayed for the now famous post Marvel movie sneak peek, you know that Black Panther will have his own Avenger movie in 2018. You can’t hear me squealing, but I am. Anyway, awesome sneak peek to what I believe will be an amazing movie. In that vein, I decided to share with you ten of my favorite images of King T’Challa, the Black Panther.
Here we go.











Of Beasts and BondsDeath and Destiny TrilogyBook 2N.D. Jones
Genre: paranormal romance
Publisher: Kuumba Publishing
Date of Publication: August 18, 2016
ISBN: 9780997529333ASIN: B01FWLXNJG
Number of pages: 403
Cover Artist: Maduranga Nuwan
Book Description:
In a world of mystery and magic, sometimes old bonds must be broken before new ones can be formed. Who knew that finding one’s soul mate would test bonds and unleash beasts?
Mami Wata and Oya are now free from their watery prison and ready to wage a battle five hundred years in the making. Special Agent Assefa Berber and Dr. Sanura Williams are the prophesized Cat and Fire Witch of Legend. To save the world from Mami Wata, a water goddess with a bloody thirst for power and an insatiable appetite for death and destruction, they must defeat her beasts and the Water Witch of Legend.
Assefa and Sanura are fully in love but possess only a partial mate bond. While Sanura has merged their auras, bonding Assefa’s cat spirit to her, she has yet to accept his claiming bite. Their incomplete mate bond and their new relationship are tested when Mami Wata sets her malevolent eyes on them, manipulating beasts, sacrificing humans, and creating heartache. Can their bond survive, or will they drown under the vicious tide of godly might?
Amazon     BN      Kobo
Excerpt:
With focused golden eyes, alert gray ears, and keen black snout, the Mngwa took in his surroundings.The prickly grass under his large, wide paws.The heat of the midday sun beating down on his thick black-and-gray fur.The scent of mullah bamyah—garlic, tomato juice, minced beef, okra, salt, and pepper.The four snarling big cats stalking him.Scanning each strong, lithe, and ferocious cat, the Mngwa cataloged their stance, their position, and the distance between each other and from the Mngwa. They flanked him, a large cat to his front, rear, and sides. If the Mngwa could smile, he would have. Foolishly, they thought their numbers a strategic advantage that would fell the undefeated Mngwa of myth and legend. Instead of a smile, he snarled, a baring of elongated teeth.A challenge.The four cats attacked, their bestial response to his bait.Four sets of paws struck the ground, claws digging into grass and dirt, brawny legs propelling them forward. Razor-sharp teeth bared, husky growls cut through the muggy June air, and feline eyes glowed with a premature win.The leopard reached the Mngwa first, snapping and going for the bigger cat’s neck. Not wasting time with the youngest of the four attackers, the Mngwa sidestepped the snarling, snapping leopard. To only pivot, turn, and ram the side of the too-slow feline with the Mngwa’s massive head. Away from the Mngwa the leopard flew, sailing through the air and crashing to the ground several feet away.The three other cats spared no pitying glance to the downed leopard, who lay on his side, breathing labored and ragged. A sure sign of broken ribs.More growls and snapping, each cat trying for a different part of the Mngwa’s massive body. The Mngwa was having none of it, so he went on the offensive. Leaping over the biggest threat, the Bengal tiger, the Mngwa landed nimbly, then ran straight at the cheetah. Taking the speckled feline by surprise, the Mngwa powered over the cat, knocking him down before hauling him up by his scrawny neck and shaking. The cheetah’s fragile neck was held firm between the Mngwa’s curved saber-shaped teeth.When the Mngwa no longer felt resistance, he opened his deadly jaws and allowed the cheetah to fall from his brutal clutch and slip, nearly unconscious, to the waiting grass.Smack. Bite.The lion and tiger claimed simultaneous strikes on the Mngwa. A swipe across his hindquarters and a bite to his side. The lion latched onto the Mngwa, his lethal teeth working to find purchase in the cat of legend’s winter dense fur and even thicker hide.Like the predator he was, the Bengal tiger charged while the Mngwa grappled with the formidable lion. A mix of yellow-and-orange with wide dark-brown stripes, the 510-pound tiger landed on top of the Mngwa. His weight hefty, his claws long, sharp, and dangerous. The maw that threatened his nape even deadlier.The lion kept up his offensive, kept clawing, kept sinking his teeth in deeper and deeper.The Mngwa roared, reared back on his hind legs, forcing the tiger off him and to the hard ground. With a side dive, the Mngwa dropped the entirety of his 695 pounds onto the 380-pound lion. His long, dark mane shot up and out with the force of the attack.The downed lion snapped and snarled but didn’t get up. No, with the Mngwa looming over him, golden eyes marble hard, paw raised, claws out and within striking range of the lion’s throat, the feline had only two choices.One would see him dead, while the other …The lion lowered his eyes, and then his head.Submission.Pleased, the Mngwa shifted his gaze to the tiger, his other senses having tracked the big cat the entire time.He knew it would come down to this—the Mngwa versus the Bengal tiger. It always did.The big cats circled, taking each other’s measure. They searched for an opening, an opportunity to attack with the least probability of an effective and bruising counterattack. The combatants knew each other well—style of combat, defensive and offensive tactics.Speed, size, and agility were on the Mngwa’s side. Yet, the toxin from an animal no longer than an inch, the golden poison frog could kill a dozen men. Its tiny size and bright colors deceiving. Not, at a length of 120 inches and 43 inches of shoulder height, with a tail just as long, there was anything small about the Bengal tiger baring his gleaming white teeth at the Mngwa.The Mngwa underestimated no one—no matter the outward appearance of the enemy. Even the cat of legend, if incautious, could taste the bitter tang of defeat. So he watched and waited and plotted the tiger’s downfall.The tiger charged, all muscle and menace. His long, powerful legs ate up the distance between them, determined copper eyes all for the Mngwa.The cat of legend braced himself, choosing to face the big cat head-on. He wanted this fight, the primal challenge that only a great beast like the Bengal tiger could give him. A glorious battle of fangs, fur, and claws that would push, force, and compel the Mngwa to prove his worth, his manhood, his undisputed dominance as the predator of predators.Crash.The ground shook - the Mngwa and tiger locked in a feral clench.Biting.Clawing.Pulling.Strong. The tiger was so strong. But not strong enough.The Mngwa opened his mouth wide and clamped down on fur and flesh. The neck of his opponent was thick with rigid muscles and delicate veins. The pulse of the tiger’s life a strong, fast throbbing beat in the Mngwa’s deadly mouth. The tiger whimpered his pain. Neither loud nor long. But enough, enough for the Mngwa’s ears to detect the effect of his attack. Yet the tiger fought on, as the Mngwa knew he would. As the Mngwa wanted him to, the tiger too stubborn, courageous, and fierce to submit so easily.No, there was much fight left in the Bengal tiger.He swiped at the Mngwa, vicious claws finding vulnerable underbelly and drawing blood. It hurt, but not enough for the bigger cat to release his vice grip. The Mngwa sank his teeth deeper into the side of the tiger’s neck, tasting blood and prideful were-cat magic.Her gardenia scent slammed into his senses seconds before the Mngwa and the tiger were surrounded by a ring of raging fire. Breaking his hold on the smaller cat, the Mngwa turned to see an angry fire witch barreling toward them—green eyes cold, red-gold hair and long striped sundress blowing in a wind that came out of nowhere. Her deadly focus was all for the Bengal tiger who, unlike when he fought the Mngwa, trembled with fear.Lightning hissed.Thunder growled.And fire witch magic crackled in the blistering summer air.Dammit, he had to do something and fast. Retreating as far as he could go within the cage of fire, the Mngwa propelled himself forward, accelerating when he approached the heated barrier and jumped. With ease, he cleared the four-foot high ring of fire and landed, with an oompf, on top of a glaring Sanura.“I can’t believe you just—”He licked her. From the front ring bodice of her green-and-orange striped dress, up her toned shoulders and around the tie neck, and into thick hair covering an ear, the Mngwa tasted his witch.“Get off me, you big furball. I can’t breathe.”Satisfied and comfortable, the Mngwa nuzzled his witch’s face, neck, and her heaving breasts, unfazed by Sanura’s angry protestations. The only part of him that pinned the witch down was his massive head and part of his chest. But, the Mngwa supposed, even that much weight could be heavy on a woman who, while five-feet-ten-inches tall, weighed no more than 140 pounds. With a teasing snort that had a lock of her wavy hair flying upward and out of her eye, the Mngwa decided it best to give the fire breathing witch some relief.With a single thought from Assefa—I’ll take care of our witch, my friend, go to sleep—the cat gave way to the man. A transformative effect where fur and hide succumbed to hair and skin, paws and claws shrank to hands and legs, and golden eyes, muzzle, and fangs retreated, waning under Assefa’s command.“Is that better?” Assefa smiled down at his hot-tempered girlfriend, right before settling the whole of him on top of the whole of her.Very nice. Sanura made for the best mattress—plush, lush and with the right amount of firmness.“You’re naked.” A huffed complaint that did nothing to encourage Assefa to move off her.“Of course. My Mngwa doesn’t like clothing.” He shifted on top of her, letting Sanura feel just how naked he was. “He thinks pants are too binding. What do you think?”She closed her eyes and shook her head. “I think you need to worry more about that big damn tiger you were fighting rather than your Mngwa in boxers.”



About the Author:
N. D. Jones lives in Maryland with her husband and two children. She is the founder of Kuumba Publishing, an art, audiobook, eBook, and paperback company. Kuumba Publishing is a forum for creativity, with a special commitment to promoting and encouraging creative works of authors and artists of African descent.
A desire to see more novels with positive, sexy, and three-dimensional African American characters as soul mates, friends, and lovers, inspired the author to take on the challenge of penning such romantic reads. She is the author of two paranormal romance series: Winged Warriors and Death and Destiny. N.D. likes to read historical and paranormal romance novels, as well as comics and manga.
Website: http://www.ndjonesparanormalpleasure.com
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/ndjonesparanormalromanceauthor/Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/NDJones
Twitter: https://twitter.com/NDJonesauthor
Pinterest: http://pinterest.com/ndjones001


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$50 Amazon Kindle gift card, Signed copy of "Of Fear and Faith" and "Of Beasts and Bonds," art print by Najja Creations
$30 Amazon Kindle gift card + eBook copy of "Of Fear and Faith" and "Of Beasts and Bonds"
$20 Amazon Kindle gift card + eBook copy of "Of Beasts and Bonds"

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Cover Reveal Malaise Falchion by Paul Barrett

Malaise FalchionPaul Barrett
Science FictionNovember 15, 2016
Disgraced during the Demon War, Dwarf investigator Snazdaggin Kundarik (Spade to his friends) wants nothing more than a desk to sleep on, a bottle of grog to drink, and the occasional easy case for quick pay.
Then a mysterious female Elf from the posh side of town shows up and offers him exoneration for his past sins and lots of gold. All he has to do is follow her brother and report his activities. Simple, right?
He should have known better. The simple job soon spirals out of control. Spade finds himself sucked into intrigue, powerful magic, and the hunt for a weapon powerful enough to end the world. Ill-prepared, Spade forges on with the aid of his hapless sidekick and a reluctant female warrior.
Will he survive long enough to save the world and get his grog?
About the Author:
Paul has lived a varied life full of excitement and adventure. Not really, but it sounds good as an opening line.
Paul’s multiple careers have included: rock and roll roadie, children’s theater stage manager, television camera operator, mortgage banker, and support specialist for Microsoft Excel.
This eclectic mix prepared him to go into his true love: motion picture production. He has produced two motion pictures and two documentaries: His film Night Feeders released on DVD in 2007, and Cold Storage was released by Lionsgate in 2010
Amidst all this, Paul has worked on his writing, starting with his first short story, about Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars, at age 8. Paul has written and produced numerous commercial and industrial video scripts in his tenure with his forcreative agency, Indievision. He has two published short stories (As You Sow and Double Cross) and one self-published novel (Godchild). He lives with his filmmaker/graphic artist partner and their three cats.
https://twitter.com/producerpaul
https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/14343920.Paul_Barrett

Witches Protection Program by Michael Phillip Cash

Witches Protection ProgramMichael Phillip Cash
Genre:  Witches, Action, Adventure
Publisher:  Chelshire, INC.
Date of Publication:  May 14, 2015
ISBN:  1511411341ASIN:  B00YANTA4K
Number of pages:  239Word Count:  45,518
Book Description: 
Wes Rockville, a disgraced law enforcement agent, is given one last chance to prove himself and save his career when he's reassigned to a 232 year old secret government organization. The Witches Protection Program.
His first assignment: uncover a billion-dollar Cosmetics company’s diabolical plan of using witchcraft for global domination, while protecting its heiress Morgan Pendragon from her aunt’s evil deeds. Reluctantly paired with veteran witch protector, Alastair Verne, Wes must learn to believe in both witches and himself.
Filled with adventure, suspense and a rousing good time, Michael Phillip Cash creates a tongue-in-cheek alternate reality where witches cast spells and wreak havoc in modern day New York City.
Book Trailer: https://youtu.be/fMn2EgYQr8s
Amazon    BN
Excerpt:
“Follow me, kid.” She led him down a gray hallway with mulberry-colored carpet, more plush than anything he’d ever seen in a governmental office. The place had to be a city block wide, with corridors branching off to other conduits. Here and there, a doorway opened. Wes saw that many were filled with groups of people sitting at polished conference tables. Some rooms were dark, with shades drawn, the light of a presentation on screens peeking through the slats of the blinds. Staff walked through the hallways, nodding to each other. Some were in pairs. All had a badge hanging on a chain or attached to a pocket. He squinted, but he couldn’t make out the impression on the shield. Forget about attempting to read it. He shrugged; while it looked official, it was unfamiliar. For a person who grew up with an entire family in law enforcement, he found it odd that he’d never seen it before.
“What is this place?” he asked.
“This is where the magic happens,” she told him cryptically.
She opened the door, whispering, “Prepare to be amazed.” Then, with a giant pop of her gum, she disappeared.
“Where…” Wes turned, looking for the woman, but couldn’t see her anywhere. “Where is…”
“Oh, she’s gone. Come in already,” a male voice ordered impatiently.
Wes spun to the speaker, his eyes settling on a small man seated at a glass desk. He was in a neat gray suit but wore a black turtleneck, which made him look like some odd, eccentric leftover from the beatnik generation. He was older than Wes’s father, Wes guessed somewhere north of sixty, with the thickening middle of a sedentary life, a tanned complexion, and silver hair. His chubby face sported a neatly trimmed goatee. Wes wondered where his beret might be. The man studied Wes with interested black eyes that glowed with merriment.
“What kind of department is this?”
“Mr. Wesley Paul Rockville. Son of Harris and Melinda, brother to Lauren and Andrew. Tough act to follow. Runt of the litter?”
Wes bristled, wondering where this pint-size dude got off calling him a runt. At six foot three, he was hardly considered small. “I fail to see what this has got to do with my reassignment,” he said icily.
The older man ignored him. “The young gun who had his free will sucked right out of him.”
“No one took my free will!” Wes shouted, his face hot.
“I think Miss Genevieve Fox did a pretty nice number on you.”
“What are you talking about?”
Alastair cocked his head, a smile playing on his lips.
“I don’t think this is funny, um…Alastair. I’m getting out of here.”  Wes had had enough. He was pissed and hungry.

“Sit down, Agent Rockville. It’s time you learned about your new assignment.”

About the Author:
Michael Phillip Cash is an award-winning and best-selling novelist of horror, paranormal, and science fiction novels.  He's written ten books including the best-selling “Brood X”, “Stillwell”, “The Flip”, “The After House”, “The Hanging Tree”, “Witches Protection Program”, “Pokergeist”, "Monsterland", "The History Major", and “Battle for Darracia” series. Michael’s books are on the Amazon best-seller list and have also won numerous awards. Additionally, he is a screenwriter with 14 specs under his belt. Michael resides on the North Shore of Long Island.
Website:  http://www.michaelphillipcash.com/
Twitter:  https://twitter.com/michaelpcash                                                                                               Facebook:  
https://www.facebook.com/MichaelPhillipCash
Blog:  http://www.michaelphillipcash-officialblog.com/
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Interview and Giveaway Dead Girls Don’t Cry by Casey Wyatt

First things first. Thank you so much for hosting me today.
Thank you for being here, Casey. We excited to hear about Dead Girls Don't Cry.What inspired your story?
Like most of my books, Dead Girls Don’t Cry started with the heroine, Cherry Cordial. Cherry is a vampire who works in a Burlesque club. She appeared in my head while I was driving to the store one day. I seem to recall: Cherry Cordial, vampire stripper, who goes to Mars. Shortly after, the idea bloomed into a full blown story. I love it when that happens!
Is the setting to your story important?
In Dead Girls Don’t Cry, the setting is Mars which could be a character of its own. Even though we’ve had rovers there for about ten years now (can you believe it?) there’s still so much we don’t know about our nearest neighbor. Vampires may be undead but Cherry has to survive the adjustment from living on lush, green Earth to dry, dusty Mars.
Did you always want to be a writer? If not what did you want to be?
I’ve written stories on and off most of my life. And I’ve always loved writing and reading. I didn’t seriously consider being a writer until after my two sons were born in the mid-1990s. Then it took another ten years before I got serious about finishing a book. I went to college and earned Bachelor’s Degrees in Anthropology and Psychology. Due to economic realities (like I needed to pay my student loans), I ended up with a job for a large corporation. Twenty-seven years later, I still work the necessary day job. But that also means I don’t have to worry about my writing paying the bills. That, by itself, mentally frees me to write whatever I want when I want.
When did you first consider yourself a “writer”?
When I was able to enter a room and state, “Hello, my name is Casey Wyatt and I’m a writer” to people other than two of my closest friends. Even after I’d finished my first novel back in 2009, and even after I sold my first book – Mystic Ink - in 2011, I still hesitated to tell people I was a writer. Now, I have no problem, whatsoever. I’m pretty sure some of my friends wished I would shut-up about it!
How long did it take to get your first book published?
About a year. I finished Mystic Ink in 2010 and by 2011, I had sold it to a small press, Soul mate Publishing. Since then, I ‘ve sold 4 other books to Soul Mate. Dead Girls Don’t Cry was originally published by Jupiter Gardens Press as The Undead Space Initiative. The publisher decided to close down so the when the rights reverted to me, I decided to publish it on my own.
What were your goals as an author and have any of them come true?
The big goal, the one I think most of us writers want, to hold their book in their hands – that happened fairly early on. Since then, I’ve evolved my goals to something simpler – to reach more readers and write the best stories I can. Learning is an on-going process and I find it challenges me to do better too.
What have you learned about the publishing industry since you’ve signed that first contract?
That it’s tough to build a readership. Even my friends who are published with the “traditional” big publishers have to work hard to find readers. Dead Girls Don’t Cry will be my first time publishing on my own. I learned fairly early that I can’t “make” anyone buy my books. So my goal is to write a damn good story so when I do attract readers, they will want to read more.
Now that you have a feel for the publishing world, would you do anything different if you had to do it all over again?
I’m not sure I would have done anything differently in terms of publishing. I think I came along at the right time –when e-readers took off. The advent of small press publishers allowed me to “learn the ropes” as far as cover design, editing, and marketing. Now, I have the confidence and knowledge to tackle self-publishing. I’m always looking for a challenge and to learn new things and this fits the bill to be sure. In the end, my number one focus is the story because that is the one thing I can really control.
What genres do you normally write in?
Paranormal romance and urban fantasy. I also spent the whole of 2015 writing (and re-writing and re-writing) a contemporary romance called Over Easy. It’s chilling on the back burner after receiving feedback from editors and agents. I’m not sure when I will circle back to it, but I hope to sometime in 2017.
Is there a genre you haven’t written in that one day you’d like to tackle?
All of them :o, but if I have to choose, I’ve always wanted to write a straight up fantasy, a cozy mystery, something science fictiony and possibly a romantic suspense.
What was the first book you ever published?
My first published novel was the aforementioned, Mystic Ink.  Since then, two other books in the series: Mystic Storm and Mystic Hero were published by Soul Mate.  Misfortune Cookie and Lachlan’s Curse are also out there as well (my website has all the details). This year it’s Dead Girls Don’t Cry. I’m near completion on Dead Girls Don’t Sing which I hope to have out in early 2017.
What was the craziest thing you’ve ever done when it came to a storyline in your book?
Gosh, I wish I had a great tale to tell but I can’t think of anything too wild. Most of my books have been set in places I’ve been to, with the exception of Mars. I have dragged my poor husband into some hilarious situations in relation to my RWA chapter involvement. He’s been in a book trailer with Kristan Higgins dressed as a biker and proclaiming that he loved romance novels. He’d kill me if I shared the link, but I could be arm-twisted is there’s any interest in the comments. I could also be persuaded to show his winning entry in our chapter’s ugly sweater contest too. Hubby endures my crazy research binges like the other day when my rock collection arrived. It’s for another project where my hero is a geologist. He’s learned to not ask too many questions and just go along for the ride.
Thanks so much for having me today! If anyone has questions, fire away.

Dead Girls Don’t CryThe Undead Space InitiativeBook 1Casey Wyatt
Genre: Urban Fantasy/Paranormal Romance
Date of Publication: August 18, 2016
ISBN-13: 978-1534902718ISBN-10: 1534902716  ISBN13: 2940153402147ASIN: B01HUFDDT2
Number of pages: 410Word Count: 83,000
Cover Artist: Kim Killion, Inc.
Book Description:
Cherry Cordial, vampire stripper extraordinaire, spectacularly messes up her life with a single act of kindness. How could she have known when she rescued gorgeous rogue Ian McDevitt that she would be implicated in the vampire queen’s murder?
Soon, she faces the wrath of the entire vampire community. To escape retribution, she joins a settlement program to colonize Mars. Her choices are grim: hurtle through space to the red planet to face the unknown and possible death, or stay on Earth and face certain annihilation.
To make things even more complicated, a certain gorgeous rogue seems to be shadowing her every move...
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Excerpt:
Suddenly, I wasn’t the biggest, baddest thing on the block.Revenants. They always traveled in packs. Enough of them could take me down. Revenants were cousins to vampires, undead beings with too much spirit. Essentially ghosts with physical reality.I picked up the pace, steering toward the middle of the street and well away from dark corners. If I had a heart rate, it would have been pounding. My blood was rare and prized. One sip and the revenants would keep me alive to serve as a drink dispenser.I fished through my bag. Where was my cell? Jonathan would come. Provided I could find the damn phone.Meaty thwacks rang out in the alley as I passed by. Do not look. A soft oomph, followed by a clipped English accent, “Try that again, bastards.”I looked.Shit. A lone and gorgeous male vampire had been captured. Three revenants had him pinned against the wall. Two held his arms and one pinned his legs. Three more surrounded him like a pack of knife-wielding hyenas. The vampire snarled. Long fangs bared, presumably pissed off at his capture. With his sculptured physique, he could handle the situation. Right?None of the baddies had noticed me yet. I could leave. Another punch landed, connecting with the vamp’s mouth. The crack echoed in the alley. Liquid splattered, followed by cruel laughter. The vampire hottie spat, his lip broken. Blood trickled down his jaw, seeping into the stark white collar of his button down shirt. “Think twice before you cut me, mate. I’ll smash all of your fucking heads in.”“Shut up, meat.” One added, “I’m so scared,” before swinging his knife and tearing a gash in the vampire’s chest. The pack laughed. A revenant approached the vampire with IV bags. Crap-a-roni, now I had to get involved. They planned to bleed him out. That’s what revenants did. They took a vampire’s blood and drained him or her dry. The blood was then sold to the highest revenant bidder. They believed our blood could remove the excess spirit from their bodies, returning them to their true vampire form.Problem is—it’s a myth. There’s no way for a revenant to become a vampire, any more than I could become a zebra if I wanted to. These guys were zealots. Deranged lunatics. “This is your last warning, blokes,” Mr. Sexy English accent said. I tried not to shiver at the sound of his rich voice. Heady whiffs of his sweet scented blood drifted my way. Like a fine wine, the smell promised a delicious and satisfying taste. Saliva pooled in my mouth. My fangs dug into my bottom lip.“Well lookee here!” Damn. I should have run when I had the chance. The pack turned in my direction, their faces eager for more blood. I cringed under the gaze of the hollow-eyed, pale-skinned nightmares who all wanted a piece of me.The nearest one licked his gray, rubbery lips. “Yum. Dessert.”I was too stupid to live. Why didn’t I run? My feet were frozen to the spot. I did the lamest, girliest thing possible. I swung my purse. And connected. A solid hit to the nuts. The revenant shrieked, clutching his junk. “Bitch!”The male vampire bucked, tossing the revenant off his left arm. Partially free, he ripped the arm off the other revenant before the thing could even react. With balled fists, Mr. Hottie crushed the skull of the captor holding his feet. “Don’t stand there like a daft pony!” the vampire scolded. He snapped the neck of the nearest revenant, then motioned. “Get out of my way!” “What? Without my help, you’d still be trapped against a wall!” I ducked and stepped aside, narrowly avoiding the gray-lipped revenant who had thought I was dessert. “The rubbish bin would be more help than you!” Mr. English silenced two more revenants with brutal, neck-twisting efficiency.“Oh really?” What a prick. The revenant recovered from the nut bash and charged me again. His fingertips knocked off my ball cap. I kicked him in the stomach, grabbed the garbage barrel and slammed it over the revenant’s head as he honed in on me. The plastic bin wouldn’t kill the thing, but he couldn’t see either.“Pathetic,” the vampire said. Mr. English and I watched as the last revenant bounced against a brick wall before falling over, his legs scissoring. “Time for this one to bugger off as well.” Mr. English yanked off the barrel and snuffed out the revenant with a bone-shattering blow to its head.One by one the corpses disintegrated into dusty husks. A breeze blew through the alley and scattered the remains. Gray vaporous clouds floated around before dissipating into the air. To a passerby, the revenants’ final passage would look like dirty car exhaust. “Well, I’m off then. Have good evening.” He brushed dirt off his tailored trousers. “Sod it, they scuffed my shoes. And this shirt is ruined.”“Yeah. What a tragedy. You’re lucky. You could have been a revenant Slurpee.” He sniffed at the suggestion. “I was never in any real danger.”“You could have fooled me,” I retrieved my ball cap from the grimy sidewalk. A late afternoon sunbeam penetrated the alley, illuminating the vampire’s blue-green eyes and highlighting the fine bone structure of his face. I tried not to gawk. I gathered my tangled hair and mashed it under the hat. “Looks to me like they had you pinned against the ropes.” Did I mention he was gorgeous? Like a cover model. An underwear cover model. I cleared my throat. He was a total stranger, and while I bet he looked divine in only underwear, I needed to stop ogling him.When he stared at me and didn’t reply, I lamely added, “You know? Down for the count.”“I understood the reference, luv,” he said in his damn fine accent.
A man-shaped shadow shifted from across the street, forming a dark blot in the alley’s entrance. We weren’t alone.

About the Author:
Casey Wyatt grew up in a mid-size Connecticut town where nothing exciting ever happened. To stem the boredom, she spent plenty of time reading fantasy and sci-fi novels and imagining her own adventures in her head. Not much has changed since she’s grown up, only now she shares those made up stories with her readers and earns a coin or two.  

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