Roxanne Rhoads's Blog, page 398

Victim Souls by Andrew Terech

Benefits and Drawbacks: People reading your novel before it is complete
If you’re a writer then you know the feeling of wanting others to read your work. Nothing is more satisfying than getting positive feedback on something that you’ve poured your heart and soul into. So why would you ever want to keep all that brilliance to yourself? Undoubtedly, there are many benefits to getting feedback on your writing, but be careful how you solicit this feedback and who you’re getting it from. Sometimes unfinished work needs to be kept close to the vest or else you may risk losing the fuel that ignited the project to begin with.
I’m currently a moderator at the Central Phoenix Writing Workshop. It’s a free social group organized through Meetup.com that brings authors together to share their work to get feedback. It’s an amazing concept and I’ve been a part of the workshop since 2012. If you don’t know of anything like this in your area I’d suggest looking it up and/or starting one yourself. There are a lot of us writers out there and we can only benefit by coming together.
Let’s say you’re going to have someone read your latest chapter:
Most people rely on friends and family as beta readers. For instance, I frequently had my wife read my writing before I found the writing workshop. And guess who thought he was the most amazing writer ever? Now, that’s not to say my wife couldn’t be critical of my writing (I have the emotional scars to prove it) but she, by her very nature and relationship to me, is not objective enough to be my onlysource of feedback. The point being, either don’t ask your friends and family for feedback at all or make sure you’re getting feedback from other, more objective sources as well. Otherwise, you’ll never get all that smoke out of your ass long enough to actually improve your writing.
In my case, I also have the writing workshop where I can get much more objective feedback from other writers. In the beginning, I brought in chapters from a novel I was working on, and although I got positive feedback on the content my grammar, sentence structure, voice, etc. got torn to pieces by a group of experienced writers. This continued until I decided that it wasn’t even worth fixing the novel I had been working on, and I started another one from scratch. I’ve since gone back to read that original novel and it WAS as bad as I remembered.One of the biggest benefits of getting feedback on my work in progress was that it made me a much better writer. I learned basic things such as passive voice, maintaining a consistent tense, proper use of dialogue tags, and scenery description. If the extent of your experience in writing is reading plus high school English plus maybe a creative writing class in college then these are likely going to be issues in your writing.
What are the drawbacks?
First off, you need to be open to feedback. If you’re handing over something you wrote in anticipation of praise, then don’t bother. By all means, work your butt off to perfect it before sharing, but perfect to you doesn’t mean perfect. The best part about receiving feedback is growing your knowledge and improving. If you’re not interested in being criticized then feedback will only hinder you.
Stephen King suggests in his book phenomenal book On Writing that one should never let anyone read their book until it is complete. He argues that outside opinions can distort the story and hurt your original vision. Far be it from me to disagree with one of the most prolific writers in American history, but here I go…
If you’re as good of a writer as Stephen King then yes, you probably don’t want unneeded opinions muddying up your vision before it’s complete. However, if you’re like the person I mentioned earlier there’s probably some strong fundamentals that you need to learn and it’s going to be a lot better learning them up front then during the editing process.
Where I will agree with Stephen King is that too many opinions on your story can royally screw you up. I can’t tell you how many times people told me what they think my character “should have” done or that they think it would be “cool” if thishappens. As a new writer I took a little too much of this advice and found myself writing 5 different stories, none of which were the one I started with. I started trying to please my audience, punctuating each chapter with a climactic moment not realizing how ridiculous that was when I put them all together in novel form.
Touché Mr. King. However, I still think there’s a lot of value in this type of critique if you know what to listen to.
After my confidence grew in my writing, I learned what feedback I should learn from:
Grammar errors
Continuity issues
A section that people were unanimously confused on
Redundant or confusing word choices
Factual mistakes (i.e. having a police officer critique your depiction of police procedures)
And I learned what to politely accept, while secretly tuning out:
Suggestions about how a character should: speak, act, or think
Plot suggestions
               Opinionated statements that start something like this: “I don’t like it when…”A lot of this is unique to my situation, but there are some key concepts here that are useful for any writer because the process of writing a novel can be a long and grueling one (especially when you get to the editing stage).
You can only benefit from getting solid objective feedback from multiple sources, assuming they are: knowledgeable and not only family and close friends.
Only seek criticism if you’re willing to admit that your writing can improve.
Learn to graciously accept all feedback, but don’t internalize every idea or let other people’s ideas de-rail the story you already have in mind.
Victim SoulsAndrew Terech
Genre: Supernatural Horror
ISBN-13: 978-0692330234ISBN-10: 0692330232ASIN: B00PEASG6Q
Number of pages: 386Word Count: 91,000
Cover Artist: Brianna Strawn
Book Description:
Sometimes, only bad guys can beat the Devil…
The plan is simple: get the money and deliver the car. What could possibly go wrong?
What can’t?
Things start to go south when Sam Drake realizes that his brother Johnny is hiding something, a secret about Sam’s troubled childhood that goes beyond his most feverish nightmares…
Then Johnny’s girlfriend, Ash, starts sending Sam the kind of mixed signals that can only lead to big trouble…
As the trio of small time crooks falls deeper into an abyss of betrayal and violence, they will discover that the greatest danger they face is not of this world.
With everything he believes about himself and the world around him shattered, Sam will become the unlikely champion in a battle with true evil, a fight to save a soul that has already been forfeited to darkness.
His own.

Available at Amazon


Excerpt:
The silver barrel of the Colt .45 glimmered in Johnny’s hand. The obese clerk behind the counter held his arms up, eyes darting to each of our faces. His brown-stained, white t-shirt clung to his sweaty man tits. Moisture dripped off his scraggly goatee onto his protruding gut. The ceiling fan above him worked hard, trying to cool down the un-air-conditioned, Arizona shit-hole that smelled like armpits and rotting cheese. A large bullet hole from Johnny’s warning shot sat two feet from the clerk’s head, along with the standard wall of cigarettes and liquor bottles acting as a reminder of the poor bastard’s purpose in life.Johnny’s smirking mouth twitched with excitement. He had a scary look in his eyes—a man possessed with rage. Ash clung to him, her blond hair draped over his shoulder. Her hand gently palmed his shaved head as she leaned toward the side of his face.             She whispered something in his ear.            Butterflies sliced the inside of my stomach with razor wings. This wasn’t the way we did things. We were escalating. Normally, I kept everyone cool, levelheaded. All control had gone out the window.            Simple Bob behind the counter sobbed, looking terrified. Part of me felt pity for the guy, but it was too late to turn back. “I don’t wanna be a part of no trouble, now,” he said. “Why don’t y’all take what ya need and go? Please, I got a family.” He glared at Ash.  Four kids.”            Johnny cackled. “Family? You hear this guy, Sammy? He’s got a fuckin’ family.” Johnny gestured toward me. “That’s my family over there. My little brother. I practically raised the pecker. Parents were killed… come to think of it—by a fat, drunk piece of shit like you. So don’t talk to me about family.”             I glanced at the clock above the entrance—eight minutes had passed. “Johnny, come on man.”            Ash sneered at me. “Not now. This is grown up time. Go grab us some food or something.” Her dismissive tone dug into my nerves.            “Go fuck yourself!” I spat. The last thing I needed was that crazy bitch feeding Johnny’s frenzy.             “Quit it, bro. I got this,” Johnny said.As usual he sided with the short jean shorts and tight, red tank top—a little cleavage and ass were all it took for him to forget about his own brother. “Get the cash and let’s go,” I said. “Stop messing around.”Johnny glanced at me. “You think you could do better?”I froze, unable to come up with a response, probably because I knew I couldn’t. Johnny took care of the hold-up. I collected the goods and kept us on point. That was our system, and it worked. Ash, on the other hand, was new to the mix. All she managed to do was waste time and get Johnny more amped than a rabid pit bull on cocaine. How he decided that was helpful, I have no idea. Things ran smooth before she stuck her pretty ass in the mix. Now instead of in-and-out with hands full of cash, we were wasting time scaring some poor, fat slob half to death. And for what, I wondered, shits and giggles? I glanced back at the clock. Ten minutes in, and we were still dicking around. I started to tell Johnny our time was running out. From the corner of my eye, the clerk reached beneath the counter.“Hey!” Ash shouted before I could react.Johnny swung his arm, smacking the butt of the gun across the fat bastard’s face. “What did I tell you? Huh!”The clerk stumbled back. The weight of his body slammed into the wall of cigarettes and cigars. He slid to the floor as dozens of boxes rained down around him.My heart pounded. I took several deep breaths. We’d never had a close call like that before.Ash pulled out her butterfly knife and flipped it open. “We need to deal with him.”Johnny clenched his jaw as he leaned over the counter, pointing the gun. “Get up! Now!”The blubbering man slowly rose up, his hands in the air, snot dripping from the pubes on his chin.“What’s your name, buddy?” Johnny asked, switching to a calmer tone.“T-T-Tony.”            With a big smile on his face, Johnny slammed his fist on the counter. “Tony! That’s a strong name. Like Tony fucking Soprano.”             Tony jumped and backed into the wall behind him again. His flabby arm knocked down a couple liquor bottles. He flinched as the glass shattered on the tile floor. I reminded myself to at least swipe some good booze when we were done.            Johnny grabbed the knife from Ash’s hand and gave her the gun. “Hold this for me, baby.”            I glanced at the clock—twelve minutes. “Bro, we’re coming up on fifteen. Forget him. You don’t have to do this.”             “We’re in the middle of nowhere. We’re fine! And for the record,” he twirled the blade in his hand, “I’ll do whatever the fuck I want!”I’d had it with Johnny’s unchecked arrogance. He always screwed with people, but he didn’t hurt anyone unless he had to. Tony may have been a liability, but if we’d stuck to the plan it wouldn’t have come to this.            Thirteen minutes.            Ash put her arm around Johnny, resting the gun on his shoulder, conveniently pointing it at my face.            I took a step toward the counter, out of the line of fire. No way I trusted that bitch with a gun in her hand. She flashed a smile in my direction.            “Put your hand out on the table.” Johnny said.            Tony extended his shaking arm. Johnny grabbed his wrist, pulled him forward, and slammed his hand onto the counter. Tony yelped. “Please.”My heart raced as my brother hovered the knife over Tony’s hand. “Come on bro…”
            Johnny’s finger shot up, motioning me to be quiet. “Tony. I’m going to teach you a little lesson in trust.”  About the Author:
Andrew’s a horror fiction writer who is also a massive fan of the genre. He’s been writing short stories and working on his novel for over 5 years. He has several short stories published, as well as some editing credits. He moderates a writing workshop in Phoenix, AZ where he’s been exposed to many different forms of fiction, which have broadened his influences. He aims to write stories that creep out his readers, while offering well-developed, rich characters they can sink their teeth into. He’s also a fan of experimenting with form and structure to create something uniquely my own.
Andrew grew up on Long Island in New York, and has lived in Arizona for the past 7 years. His professional background is in psychology where he’s carved out a nice career for himself. However, writing has always been his passion.
Currently, he’s hard at work, developing additional content to publish. He hopes to find an audience that loves the genre, and is up for a good scare.
http://www.andrewterechwriting.com
Twitter @AndrewTerech
https://www.facebook.com/andrew.terech

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January 5 Guest BlogFreshly Baked Bookshttp://freshlybakedbooks.blogspot.com/
January 6 InterviewDeal Sharing Auntwww.dealsharingaunt.blogspot.com
January 7 Guest blogMythical Bookshttp://www.mythicalbooks.blogspot.ro/
January 8 InterviewRoxanne’s Realmwww.roxannerhoads.com
January 9 InterviewAuthor Karen Swartwww.authorkarenswart.blogspot.com
January 12 Character InterviewEclipse Reviewswww.totaleclipsereviews.blogspot.com
January 13 SpotlightLisa’s World of Bookswww.lisasworldofbooks.net
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January 15 InterviewBewitching Book Tours Magazinewww.issuu.com/bewitchingbooktours
January 16 SpotlightThe Creatively Green Write at Home Momwww.creativelygreen.blogspot.com
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January 20 SpotlightBooklover Sue http://bookloversue.blogspot.com
January 22 SpotlightShare My Destinyhttp://sharemydestiny.blogspot.com
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January 26 Spotlight3 Partners in Shopping, Nana, Mommy, & Sissy, too!  http://3partnersinshopping.blogspot.com
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Spotlight and Giveaway Toxic Love by Jax Garren

Toxic LoveJax Garren
Genre: Science Fiction Romance
Publisher: SilkWords
Date of Publication:  July 12, 2014
ISBN: 9781941847015ASIN: B00LRZLOHA
Number of pages: 187Word Count:  47,670Cover Artist: Indie Designz
Book Description: 
Future Las Vegas is as crazy as ever — even after toxic gas bombs have poisoned the air and moved the party  inside.
Hired as an entertainer, Chloe moves from the heartland with big dreams of fame and fortune...until an accident exposes her to the gas, and it's discovered she's genetically immune to the poison.
Now Vegas wants her enrolled in a dating program created to encourage immune breeding.
Will she opt out and return to the rich ex she left behind? Stay and play for the chance at fame on the stage? Or can a gorgeous scientist who's also immune tempt her heart?
Excerpt: Toxic Freefall
Chloe Parikh had never been to Las Vegas. She’d never been skydiving. Hell, she’d never been outdoors, surrounded by the Tox75 poison with only a thin layer of plastic between her and near-instant death. Today was a lot of firsts.Her heart rate picked up as the clock counted down to the moment the door would open and she’d launch into the sky. Adrenaline made her blood pump and her head rush with a thrill like she’d never experienced in staid Oklahoma City. She was going to like living in Vegas.No. She was going to love it.Her tandem master slapped her on the butt as he headed for the closed door of the airplane. “You’ll be fine, sweet-cheeks.”She stiffened, ready to snap at him. He’d never lay a hand on one of the eight rich kids paying top dollar for this jump. Yeah, she was an entertainer and this trip was paid for by her new employer, but she wasn’t that kind of entertainer.One look at his amused grin and she bit back the words. Jeremiah, her favorite “brother” and fellow military orphan at the city home she’d grown up in had always said, “Better than fear, anger is.” He might’ve missed Yoda’s point, but pissing her off had been his remedy whenever she got scared, and damn if it hadn’t worked every time. The memory softened her ire. Maybe Butt Slap the Tandem Man was trying to calm her nerves. Since she was about to have a near-death experience with his genitals strapped to her ass, she decided to go with that theory. No snappy retort then, just an exaggerated eye roll and the pointy finger of warning. He laughed, friendly-like, before securing his face shield. “Suit up. Time to fly.” Fear made her palms sweat as she secured her helmet to her vac suit. Once again, she checked the seals running down her front and at her collar. Less than a second of exposure and the only one who could save her was Jesus. With her history she wasn't too sure he'd bother.She checked the seals a third time.The crew chief unlocked the cabin door, and her tension ratcheted up, fear competing with exhilaration. Here was another almost-first, one that felt more fundamental than the others, more primal and significant, even if few Americans ever did experience it. She hadn’t been outside in twenty years, since she was three and the air was clean—or at least clean-ish. She barely remembered the feeling. “Everyone secure?” the crew chief called. Tandem Man rechecked her helmet and suit, gave a thumbs up, and hooked the first line of his harness to hers. The crew chief released the pressure gauge, counted to three, and opened the door to the blazing sunrise over Las Vegas. The engine’s hum became a storm of noise. Although the wind didn't whip into the cabin like Chloe had expected, the toxic air was still present, mingling with theirs, testing each vac suit for entry. But nobody keeled over, and her shoulders relaxed. A whistling whine put her back on alert. It was probably normal, nothing to worry about. But Tandem Man motioned forward—hastily? Was he nervous, too? He shouldn't be nervous—and Chloe ambled towards the hatch, each step a clumsy misfire with the man at her back. The whistling got louder. The closest jumper to the door yanked the straps of his partner's harness, tightening them in careless hurry then flung himself out backward in a fashion not approved by the morning's flying class. A lone jumper launched next, head first.There was something to worry about.“Move!” TandemMan yelled as he practically scooped Chloe up.The whistling stopped.Light burst outside the door. The cabin shook, and a deafening boom reverberated. She and TandemMan pitched forward, slamming headfirst into the hull and bouncing to the deck. The impact knocked the wind out of her, and she gasped for air, thanking the heavens the helmet had saved her brains. She tried to stand, but TandemMan wasn't making it easy. “Are you all right?” She shouted over the chaos. “What should I do?” He scrambled drunkenly—he must've rammed his head a good one—and together they lurched to standing. “Count to twenty and pull.” He grabbed her hand and clasped it at his back. “Here.” “Why are you telling me this?” she yelled, praying it was highly unnecessary information but keeping a death grip on the parachute's ripcord anyway. He stumbled them toward the hatch, and she craned her neck around to see him.The blood drained from her face and her skin went cold. “Oh my God. Your mask...” is cracked. If poisoned air wasn't seeping in now, it would be any moment. He needed a seal immediately, or he was a dead man. If he wasn’t already.He pitched them out the door.Another missile exploded behind the plane, and she screamed in fear and frustration. A shower of sparks sizzled around them as they dove head first away from the dying aircraft.She started counting.Wind attacked her with more freezing force than she'd expected as they plummeted toward the bonanza of color and texture that was her new home. “Eighteen, seventeen…”The flopping weight of her tandem master drifted them horizontally. He wasn’t moving, at least not under his own control. “Thirteen, twelve…”The plane, away to her left now, barreled toward the mountains as more jumpers flung themselves out in a colorful trail of human confetti. Panic dug at her insides as she fell with a possibly dead man on her back and explosives in the air. “Seven, six…”War was all she had ever known—her parents had died in it and Jeremiah had enlisted to join it—but there had to be a better way to live than lethal air and sporadic bombings. Maybe she'd ditch performing and marry Eli, her rich ex, if he promised to take her to the Montana Rockies where there were still clean, cold villages high in the mountains. No, Eli was a non-negotiable. She could steal a boat and smuggle herself to South America, land of clear skies and infinite beauty. Land of plenty and promise. Her grandparents were from India; she could pass for Latino. Or she could in the movies, anyway.“One.” She pulled the ripcord and the parachute blasted open, yanking their free-fall to a lazy ride. But now she had to do something more complicated than count. They were supposed to end up on The Strip where suited camera crews were waiting to film her arrival. That sort of precision landing might be fine for an expert, but Chloe had a bad feeling her parachute was about to impale itself on the Vegas version of the Eiffel Tower. Sure, she’d paid attention in class but had assumed TandemMan would be doing the tricky parts. She sucked in a cold breath, steeling herself for the next few minutes. She'd assumed wrong. Alive or dead—God, somehow may he be alive—TandemMan was out for the landing. Whatever happened next was up to her.A jerk on the toggles turned them away from Paris and toward the Bellagio. A minute later her feet barely crested a railing. TandemMan’s hooked then released. They skimmed the water in front of the erupting fountain to the bombastic notes of Wagner’s “Flight of the Valkyries.” She yanked again on the toggles, trying to do the flaring thing the instructors had talked about. They slowed, and for a moment Chloe walked on water as the fountain cascaded and sang. The parachute deflated, and they sank. Hoping she correctly remembered which side had the release and which had the spare chute, she pulled on the right of TandemMan's harness. To her relief, the parachute floated away. Stretching down, the balls of her feet touched the sloped fountain floor. Half sliding, half-dog-paddling, she strained to keep her partner's head above water—not that it would do any good, but she wasn't ready to accept that yet—as she made a grueling path toward the bridge and the horde of cameras and HazMat suits swarming the street.Welcome to Las Vegas.




About the Author:
Jax Garren, author of hot, urban paranormal romance series Austin Immortals and The Tales of the Underlight, is descended from Valkyries and Vikings (she’s part Swedish) but was raised a small town girl in the Texas Hill Country. She graduated from The University of Texas with a degree in English and a minor in Latin and stayed in Austin to teach high school. During her eight years in public education she was in a riot, broke up fights, had cops storm her class with guns drawn… and met the most amazing young people who taught her more about life and hope than she taught them about any school subject.
Jax believes in heroes and happily-ever-afters. She’s been married thirteen years to a handsome engineer who is saving the world through clean energy technology. They recently became foster parents, leading to more adventures than she can legally discuss. Jax’s fictional heroine is the tough but feminine Marion Ravenwood from Raiders of the Lost Ark, and Jax blames that movie for her lifelong dream of traveling to Nepal. Though Jax has yet to experience Himalayan monasteries and drink yak butter tea—important components of a Nepalese excursion—she loves to travel. Her favorite adventure so far found her in Arctic Norway where she saw the Northern Lights and ate the world’s most delicious slice of apple cake.
Jax can be found at jaxgarren.com, at facebook.com/JaxGarren or on Twitter as @JCGarren. She loves meeting new people, so online or in person, feel free to give her a Viking “Hail!”
www.jaxgarren.com
www.facebook.com/JaxGarren
@JCGarren
www.goodreads.com/author/show/6552875.Jax_Garren





SilkWords is the go-to source for interactive romance and erotic fiction.
With gorgeous custom covers and a clean, sophisticated design, the SilkWords site offers a secure, upscale reading environment. In addition to content on their web site, they offer stories for purchase in the standard e-book formats.
SilkWords is owned and operated by a full-time mom with a background in genetics and an RWA RITA-nominated, multi-published sci-fi romance author.
Their technology guy and site designer was the founder of Microsoft Xbox Live.
SilkWords features two formats that allow readers to choose how the stories will proceed.
Pick Your Path:
Will she or won't she? With which man (or woman) in which location? With Pick Your Path romance, you decide. Romance and branched fiction are made for each other, like picking your favorite flavor of ice cream...positions, partners, and paraphernalia, oh my!
Reader Vote:
Readers vote at choice points and decide how the story will continue. These stories are a great way for readers and authors to connect. It’s exciting to be part of a developing story!
https://www.silkwords.com/
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A Review of Casually Cursed by Kimberly Frost

Casually Cursed by Kimberly Frost
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

Another excellent book in the Southern Witch series. I just hope it's not the last. With that ending it could go either way...spoiler alert...at least it's a very happy ending.

But I get ahead of myself.

I have loved this series from the beginning, poor Tammy Jo gets into so much trouble even though she never goes looking for it. She sure knows how to deal with it. But after all the practice at it, it's no wonder she's gotten really good.

In Casually Cursed she's dealing with a twin sister who suddenly appeared at the end of Slightly Spellbound. Tammy never knew Kismet existed. This family has kept so many secrets...but in this book they are coming out. We finally get to meet more of Tammy's family and learn about their history. It's great- and Frost seamlessley weaves the history and family stories into the book without it seeming like an info dump.

And Zach... I know many readers might be on his side but I have always been team Bryn. Bryn has always loved Tammy for exactly who she is. Zach only loves part of her...and we really see his true colors in this book. I wasn't surprised- but Tammy Jo is way more forgiving than I would be.

It just seals the bond between Tammy and Bryn. They belong together.

The story is smooth, fast paced, and as always- leaves you wanting more.

I hope this is not the last we see of Bryn and Tammy Jo.

View all my reviews

A Review of Sketch! The Non-Artist's Guide to Inspiration, Technique, and Drawing Daily Life

My Review:

An excellent inspirational book for artists and aspriring artists.

There is no excuse not to create- use any time you have and whatever medium you have- whether it's a sketch pad, your smart phone or computer- just create.

This book has encouraged me to create more and I passed it along to my teenage daughter who is an aspiring artist. I hope it encourages her to create extraordinary things.

Artists and aspiring artist both will love this book.






Sketch!: The Non-Artist's Guide to Inspiration, Technique, and Drawing Daily Life

France Belleville-Van Stone 

Paperback: 144 pages
Publisher: Watson-Guptill 
November 4, 2014
Language: English
ISBN-10: 0385346093

ISBN-13: 978-0385346092

An inspirational manual for integrating sketching into daily life for artists and non-artists alike. 

Urban sketching--the process of sketching on the go as a regular practice--is a hot trend in the drawing world. In this aspirational guide, French artist France Belleville-Van Stone offers motivation to move beyond the comfort zone, as well as instruction on turning rough sketches into finished work. By sharing her own creative process, which includes sketching by hand and digitally, Belleville-Van Stone emboldens readers to craft a method of their own and devote more time to art, even if it's just 10 minutes a day. Sketch will inspire artists both established and aspiring to rethink their daily practice, sketch for the pure joy of it, and document their lives and the world around them.

Available at Amazon


About the Author
FRANCE BELLEVILLE-VAN STONE is a self-taught French artist who loved cars and drawing as a child. As an adult, she studied English instead of going to art school, and became a public school teacher. She has been living and teaching full-time in the U.S. since late 2004.


 "I received this book from Blogging for Books for this review."

Interview with Inka Loreen Minden

How did you start writing erotica?
Originally I wanted to write young adult literature. But whenever my protagonists clicked I realized the tension between them was getting too strong to just stick to kissing. I enjoyed building up these stories and that is how I started writing erotica.
What’s your favourite published work of yours and why?
”Hearts of Stone” is one of the books that is most special to me. It has been published in German and will be available in English in 2015. I was the first German author to write a fantasy romance novel with gargoyles and the success it had made me very proud.
What erotic authors do you enjoy reading?
From the international erotica authors I like Megan Hart’s writing very much. The German author Katelyn Faith is very talented.
Where do you draw your inspiration from?
People often ask questions about my inspiration and I don’t have a proper answer to it. It seems like my muse has a sadistic tendency because it keeps revealing new ideas which I then have to put to paper immediately – otherwise I would forget most of them. In my early years I used to write several books simultaneously which was kind of confusing at some point. But I learned to write my new ideas down but focus on one project at a time, before I start working on the next.
Do you have any unusual writing rituals?
When I’m writing everything that surrounds me needs to be completely quiet . And because I mostly write all day long, chocolate and chewing gum speed up my brain again when I get tired.
Where’s your favorite place to write?
My favorite place to write is with my laptop on the couch. I have a nice view out of the window into the green to relax my eyes from time to time.
Who is your favorite character from one of your stories and why?
This would probably be Ash from Hearts of Stone. He’s a fallen angel who turned into a demon. He touches my heart because he experienced such a heavy burden of destiny which made him turn into the typical bad boy. But inside he has a good heart which he’s able to show throughout the plot.
Do your nearest and dearest know what you do, and if so, what was their reaction when they found out?
Of course my family and friends know what kind of stories I write. My husband supported me from day one and has been a big support ever since. The only one who doesn’t is my son. He’s 11 and thinks I’m writing cheesy love stories.
What was your ideal career when you were a child?
Becoming a writer was my childhood dream. I’m very happy about the fact that I can make a living of it today.
How do you get yourself in the mood to write?
I’ve been in the writing business for quite a while and I have developed a kind of routine. When I get up the first thing I do is turn on the computer. After breakfast it’s usually 7:30 AM when I start writing. This is what I do 7 days a week, 365 days a year. The only exception is when we go on vacation and my family makes me leave my computer at home. Once I’m back in front of the desk after these little time outs it is a bit harder to get back into the routine. You need to be very disciplined to sit down anyway and get back to work but as soon as I get started the writing mood comes back, too.
What’s the best writing tip you’ve ever been given?
The best writing tip I’ve ever been given was about the first paragraph of a book: You have to write the entrance to a book as exciting as possible to get the reader hooked and wanting to read on.
If you get writer’s block when you’re writing, how do you get around it?
Luckily I’ve never had writer’s block, but rather the problem of having more ideas on my mind than time to write them down!
If you could bring one of your characters to life, which one would it be and why?
This would probably be Nick – he’s a genie in a bottle in one of my young adult’s books and he could fulfil my every wish if he was real.
Which author, erotic or otherwise would you love to meet and why?
Stephen King was the grand idol of my childhood and if I could pick an author I would choose to meet him! I read all of his books when I was young.
What’s your favorite genre within erotica and why?
Definitely gay romance – one man is hot, two men are hotter! Love stories between men are very intense as you can evoke strong emotions and conflicts. Writing but also reading gay romance stories is very exiting.
What are you working on at the moment?
I have a lot of new books coming out in Germany in the beginning of next year. In the English speaking market my two next big projects are a young adult title called: Daniel Taylor and the Dark Legacy and a gargoyle romance called Hearts of Stone. I’m getting new requests by my readers every day, and I’m hoping to catch up with those in the near future and also to be able to fulfil my own ideas!
What’s the biggest writing challenge you’ve ever taken on? Did you succeed?I’ve never taken part in a challenge yet. It’s not very common in Germany. I have my own speed in writing and I don’t like to write under pressure. I’m sure it’s a good thing for others though as it might be easier to get motivated in a group.
What’s your biggest writing achievement? Why?
Hearts of Stone has more than 650 pages and is my thickest book so far. It was a big challenge to write because at the beginning there are two parallel plots. At some point those storylines interweave and the main characters suddenly interact. It was hard to pay attention to all kinds of different elements. I’m very proud that it was so successful here in Germany.


HEARTS OF STONE: GUARDIAN WINGS by INKA LOREEN MINDEN
PUBLISHER: Bastei Entertainment
PUBLICATION DATE: Feb. 16, 2015
PRICE: $4.99
PAGES: 387
ISBN: 9783732507917
ASIN: B00MZV92Q0

Two forlorn souls, not allowed to love... a heart-melting love story about a witch and a gargoyle.
His clan took everything from him and forced Vincent to live in the shadows. Shunned by his own kind, his only light in this darkness is a witch, Noir LeMar. Vincent is her secret guardian. He wants to touch her just once, but he has been cursed by his clan – anything that he touches will die. Demons have wiped out Noir LeMar’s family. Since then, she’s been fighting a lonely battle. She does not know that she has a protector, who watches her day and night, while she tries to find her parents’ killers. To save Noir’s life, Vincent has to give up his cover. Although they are attracted to each other, both know they can never fall in love and feel passion. The consequences would be devastating. Can their passion survive the threat of death?
For fans of erotic romance novels set in a mysterious environment.
Available at Amazon

ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Inka Loreen Minden is a German author of erotic and paranormal romances and young adult books. She has so many pseudonyms that people call her “the multi-named woman.” Inka lives in Munich and shares her home with her husband and son. She has written more than 26 books—historical, contemporary, and paranormal—and her titles appear regularly on the German online bestseller charts.
Author Website: http://www.inka-loreen-minden.de/
Author Twitter: https://twitter.com/inkaloreen
Publisher Website: http://www.bastei-entertainment.com/

How I fell in love with PNR: Guest Blog and Giveaway with Dina M. Given

How I fell in love with PNR by Dina M. Given
When I was a kid, I don’t remember whether there were all of the sub-categories of Fantasy that we have today – Paranormal, Urban, Dark, Epic, etc. I just remember there being Fantasy, and I discovered it when I was about 10 years old. My mother went to the library and brought home for me A Spell for Chameleon by Piers Anthony. I was immediately hooked and never looked back.
I voraciously devoured everything by authors such as Piers Anthony, Terry Brooks and Raymond E. Feist. I would draw massive maps of these fantastical worlds and hang them on my bedroom walls, alongside my sketches of mythical creatures. When I was in college, I even wrote my honors thesis on Tolkien’s The Lord of the Rings.
Then I entered corporate America, got married and had two kids, and my reading fell off significantly. A few years ago my sisters discovered the world of self-publishing and started a blog supporting independent romance authors. Romance wasn’t really my thing, but I wanted to be involved in the blog, so I gravitated toward PNR. I fell in love with Amy Bartol, Denise Grover Swank, Amelia Hutchins, Rebecca Ethington, Karina Halle, and others, and it re-sparked my love for the genre.
It also renewed my life-long desire to try writing a novel myself. Thinking about the old adage of “write what you would want to read,” I developed an idea for a high-action urban fantasy novel influenced by Jim Butcher’s The Dresden Files and Larry Correia’s Monster Hunters International. I wanted to write a book that played like a fast-paced movie with supernatural battles, car chases, monsters and magic, not to mention a dollop of steamy romance.
Release Date: December 29, 2014
Book Genre: Adult Urban Fantasy / Paranormal Romance
Book Description:
It’s not always easy to differentiate between the good guys and the bad guys, especially when a trained killer may be falling in love with her evil hunter…
Emma Hayes, a former military Special Forces Operative turned mercenary-for-hire, finds her tightly controlled world turned upside down when she becomes the target of attacks by powerful supernatural creatures.
Emma must use every skill in her arsenal to stay alive as she tries to solve the mystery of why she has been targeted. Her list of enemies keeps growing - from Zane Shayde, an evil Mage, to a secret branch of the US government - and she doesn't know if there is anyone left she can trust. 
To complicate matters further, Emma is inexplicably drawn to Zane in a way she does not quite understand, even knowing her life is forfeit if captured. Who is he and why does he have this affect on her? How can she fight someone who calls to her, body and soul?
Emma is left haunted by questions, doubts and fears as to why she has been targeted, when they will come for her next, and how she will possibly survive against an enemy she doesn't understand.

Goodreads:https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/22753787-unhidden


Excerpt
Claws, teeth, and a slavering black tongue rose over me as I lay prone on the floor. It could have easily ripped my throat out or killed me in a dozen hideous ways. It seemed to realize this, too. Its jaw cracked and popped, unhinging so wide it could make a meal of my head in one bite. Hot, putrid saliva dripped onto my face, leaking into my open wound and searing it like acid. I hissed at the sensation and turned away; however, I couldn’t escape its fetid breath. It leaned in, eager and hungry, while I was frozen. I would meet death in the jaws of an inhuman beast. It would drink my blood, feast on my organs, and gnaw on my bones for dessert. Darko’s hoarse voice called from down the hall. “Don’t kill her! We need her.” The thing paused and let out a high-pitched wail of anger at being deprived of its dinner. The sound shattered my fear.I threw up a knee, violently slamming it in the creature’s crotch. Thankfully, it was humanoid enough, that it had the same effect as any other male. He howled and rolled off me into the fetal position. I immediately scrambled backward, sliding along the marble floor. My left arm, screaming in pain, remained limp at my side. With my right arm, I reached over my head to grab the gun. As my fingers wrapped around the grip, the familiar feeling was like coming home again.I pointed the Glock down the length of my body, and without a moment’s hesitation, I pulled the trigger in three quick, precise squeezes. The head of the creature I had nut-cracked exploded in a spray of blood and gore. Shifting the gun’s sight, I found the second creature barreling down the hall toward me. The first three shots hit him square in the chest, yet he hardly slowed. I lifted the gun slightly, took a deep breath and held it, then squeezed the trigger, putting a round straight through its eye and into its brain. That time, it stumbled yet still kept coming. I put four more rounds into its head, not missing a shot, before it finally crashed to the floor only inches shy of my feet. Darko merely stood there, a sly, half-smile tugging at the corner of his mouth while I unsteadily got to my feet, pushing myself up with my gun hand. Despite the fact that Darko carried no weapon I could see, for a moment, I considered shooting him. He had set me up, kidnapped an innocent girl, and commanded those creatures. Even though he had stopped them from killing me, I was sure he wouldn’t hesitate if he got what he wanted from me. With him only a few yards away, I had a clear shot. I pointed my weapon at him, and for the first time today, he reacted. The blood drained from his face, his eyes darting around, seeking escape. He quickly came to the same conclusion I had—there was no escape for him. My finger tightened on the trigger, but before I could get off the shot, a monstrous animal bounded from the shadows behind him. It leapt past Darko, springing at me on all fours. It was the size of a bear with dry, scaly skin, and a mouth full of sharp teeth. Two tusks extended from the roof of its mouth, past its jaw. It bellowed like a foghorn as it charged me.



About the Author
Dina Given lives in rural New Jersey – home of farms, horses and the largest hot air balloon festival in North America – with her husband, two crazy kids, and one rescue dog. She is an exercise enthusiast and avid lover of food and wine (hence the need to exercise). Dina also works full time for one of the largest healthcare companies in the world. She attributes her ability to juggle family, work and writing to her obsessive, hyper-focused, Type A personality.
Author Links
http://www.dinagiven.comhttps://www.Facebook.com/DinaGivenAuthorhttps://www.goodreads.com/author/show/8394925.Dina_Given

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Guest Blog: Dark Prophecy by Ann Gimpel

Thanks very much for inviting me back to guest blog. Hugs and appreciation! Since I muffed your last suggested topics, I’ll try to keep this one on track.
How does my psychology background bear on my writing career?
Interesting question. The easiest answer would relate to how I build characters and write dialogue, because God knows I’ve heard damn near everything in my practice over many years. But when I turned the question over a few times, what I came up with was quite different from writing craftsmanship.
The short answer is that my psychology background has been critical to many aspects of my writing career. I suppose it would also generalize to whatever I decided to do if I quit writing. What do I mean by that? Well, part of therapy training is learning to read people. 
Who they are. What drives them, and most importantly how to get along with them.
I’ve met many different personalities in the few short years I’ve been writing. Between authors, publishers, cover artists, and editors, there’s quite a spectrum of people. One thing they all have in common, though, is varying levels of an artistic personality. So they can be hard to get along with. I suppose I can be too—if you catch me on a bad day.
To be candid, I’ve probably used more of my psychology background defusing interpersonal challenges than I have developing memorable characters. The characters are easy—at least most of the time. Avoiding a minefield of potential hurt feelings isn’t. Let me toss a few questions out there:
How do you tell a cover artist you don’t like their cover?
How do you give another author feedback that their masterpiece has plot holes big enough to pilot a 747 through? Or their dialogue is wooden?
How do you tell an editor that her suggestion doesn’t meet CMoS?
And the list could get a whole lot longer.
Something that should be simple—we’re all adults here, right—often turns into a trauma laden drama. I developed a thick skin about my writing a long time ago. When I switched careers, my first take was I was a rank neophyte and wanted all the feedback I could gather. Listening carefully has made me a much better writer. It took me a while to figure out that many authors may say they want feedback, but they don’t. Not really. What they want is for me to tell them what they wrote is the next Outlander. I’ve gotten very careful about who I’m willing to offer editorial suggestions to.
And so it goes.
One thing I will say is I’ve never been sorry I picked psychology as a major. It’s a great help when I need perspective. The other plus is people feel safe talking with me. It’s a good call since we psychological types could double as human vaults.
Thanks again for hosting me. I’d love to answer any questions about psychology as a career that show up in comments.




Dark ProphecySoul StormBook 1Ann Gimpel
Publisher: Dream Shadow Press
Release Date: 12/11/14Available for pre-order early December
Genre: Urban Fantasy
When the dream world spills its murky contents, everyone’s worst nightmares run free.
Book Description:
Dr. Lara McInnis reads auras and flirts with an elusive ability to foretell the future. Ambivalent about the magic within her, she’s done a fine job ignoring other aspects of her power—until now. After several patients—and a student or two—describe the same cataclysmic dream, she uncovers ancient evil intent on draining her power. Lara knows next to nothing about her psychic side, but it will destroy her if she can’t come to terms with it.
Trevor Denoble has secrets, but he shields them well with a stunning body and a boatload of British charm. The airline he works for folds because there’s no fuel for the planes, and Lara’s changing into someone he barely recognizes. Though he doesn’t know it yet, the rest of his carefully crafted life is about to come crashing down too. 
Living in a world teetering on the edge of anarchy, Trevor and Lara are faced with a series of painful decisions. Is the love between them enough for Trevor to swallow his distrust of Lara’s burgeoning paranormal ability? Will their personal demons tear them apart in a world gone mad, as shortages of everything from electricity to food escalate?

Book Trailer http://youtu.be/H2mtTvxkrT4


Excerpt:
…Hours later, Lara let herself out of her office, reached back in to activate the alarm, and then locked the door behind her. Arabel had gone home at six. Normally her receptionist left a note if there was something she needed to communicate. Tonight there hadn’t been any notes because there weren’t any patients she needed to call. But there had been a few zucchinis from Arabel’s lovingly-tended garden. Lara was grateful, both for the organic produce and for the lack of patient-related affairs to attend to. She was tired and hoped nobody had a crisis that evening.She double-checked the pager that lived clipped to her belt. As she moved away from the front door of her building, she stumbled. The outside light was out—when had that happened?—and it was very dark in the shadows of the cavernous front porch. She made a grab for the railing to steady herself and took a tentative step toward the street.“Stop right there,” a familiar harsh voice boomed from behind her.“Mr. Beauchamp. That is you, isn’t it?” Alarm ricocheted through her, but she knew intuitively it was important to hide her fear. “What do you want?” Though she aimed for nonchalance, her voice sounded thin and shaky. Is it Ken? Aw, Jesus, who else could it be? She closed her eyes, gathering data from an unseen realm she knew well. Once her energies were focused, she discerned his twisted energy field throbbing against the darkness. Better the devil you know flashed through her mind. Not necessarily came close on its heels, as she realized, with a sinking feeling, that Ken Beauchamp really was dangerous. She’d known it the first time he walked into her office, but drawn in by his wife’s soft helplessness, she’d ignored her concerns, compassion overriding common sense.“I want to talk. No, don’t turn around.” The man’s voice held menace as it sliced into her tumbling thoughts.“What do you want to talk about, Mr. Beauchamp?” With effort, she kept her voice steady. “Surely whatever it is can wait until tomorrow. You really do need to call my office and make an appointment.” There, that seems like about the right amount of bravado.“What did you tell my wife today? When you were in the bathroom. You’d better tell me the truth.”“Are you threatening me? Because if you are, I’ll call the cops and have you thrown off my property.” Anger was rapidly displacing her fear—or at least coexisting with it. She reached a hand into her bag in search of her phone.“That wouldn’t be smart, Doc, not very smart at all. Take your hand out of that purse.”Ken Beauchamp’s voice was mild, but an ominous undertone chilled her. Sweat gathered in her armpits and dripped down her sides. Think! she commanded herself. There’s got to be a way out of this.“Well, Doctor?” Ken’s voice oozed sarcasm, with undercurrents of something darker and far more primal. “I asked you a simple question. Answer it and we can both go home.”What was he doing? Lara dug deeper with her hyper-honed senses. His breathing seemed…uneven. Was he getting off by intimidating her?Something clicked ominously. The snick of a gun’s safety mechanism? What else could that cold metallic snapping sound possibly be? Fighting fear that threatened to paralyze her, Lara asked, “How’s Bethany, Mr. Beauchamp? She’s all right isn’t she?” Despite her concerns for herself, Lara was suddenly frantic about Bethany.“That’s none of your business anymore. We won’t be back. I just want to know what you told her today.”“Why is that important to you?”“I ask the questions around here.” Yes, Lara thought as she listened intently, he was practically panting. Oh shit, this guy’s a pervert on top of all his other less-than-stellar attributes. She flirted with flying down the porch steps and trying to outrun him, except she had dress shoes on and her heavy shoulder bag. What if he really did have a gun? She hadn’t heard the metal click again.A car pulled to the curb in front of her building and she started, heart beating like a mad thing. Christ, is it one of his henchmen come to help out? Practically moaning aloud, she wondered what Ken Beauchamp had in mind for her…



About the Author:
Ann Gimpel is a national bestselling author. She’s also a clinical psychologist, with a Jungian bent.  Avocations include mountaineering, skiing, wilderness photography and, of course, writing.  A lifelong aficionado of the unusual, she began writing speculative fiction a few years ago. Since then her short fiction has appeared in a number of webzines and anthologies. Her longer books run the gamut from urban fantasy to paranormal romance. She’s published over 20 books to date, with several more contracted for 2014 and beyond.
A husband, grown children, grandchildren and three wolf hybrids round out her family.
www.anngimpel.com
http://anngimpel.blogspot.com
http://www.amazon.com/author/anngimpel
http://www.facebook.com/anngimpel.author
@AnnGimpel


December 4 Review
Dark Side of Romance

http://www.darksideofromance.com

December 8 SpotlightRoxanne's Realmwww.roxannerhoads.com
December 10 reviewfeedmeinbookswww.feedmeinbooks.wordpress.com
December 11 SpotlightBeverly @ The Wormholehttp://wormyhole.blogspot.com
December 15 SpotlightShare My Destinyhttp://sharemydestiny.blogspot.com
December 16 Spotlight and reviewBooks That Hookhttp://booksthathook.com
December 17 Spotlight and reviewMore Books Than Livroshttp://mbtlbooktours.blogspot.com.br/
December 18 ReviewBeverly @ The Wormholehttp://wormyhole.blogspot.com
December 19 SpotlightGeeks In High Schoolhttp://www.geeksinhighschool.com
December 23 Guest blogAngel’s Guilty Pleasureshttp://angelsguiltypleasures.com

December 23 Review
Fang Freakin Tastic Reviews  
www.fangfreakintasticreviews.com

December 26 SpotlightMusings In Fiction Alleyhttp://musingsinficitonalley.blogspot.com/
December 26 SpotlightIlluminite Caliginosushttp://darkwriter67.wordpress.com
December 29 Character InterviewDiane’s Book Blog http://dianes-book.blogspot.com
December 30 Spotlight/ExcerptBooks Directhttp://booksdirectonline.blogspot.com.au/
January 6 Interview
Urban Fantasy Investigations

http://urbanfantasyinvestigations.blogspot.com/

January 6 SpotlightEmma Weylinhttp://emmaweylin.com/
January 7 ReviewPenny Writeswww.pennybrojacquie.blogspot.com

January 9 Spotlight
Booklover Sue 
http://bookloversue.blogspot.com

January 12 Guest blogSapphyria's Book Reviewshttp://saphsbookblog.blogspot.com/
January 20 Guest blogParaYourNormal http://parayournormal.wordpress.com

January 29 Review
happy tails and tales 
http://happytailsandtales.blogspot.com

January 30 Guest BlogFang-tastic Bookswww.fang-tasticbooks.blogspot.com

Spotlight and Giveaway Cat by Julie Dewey

CatLivin’ Large SeriesBook 1Julie Dewey
Genre: Romantic comedy BBW
Publisher: JWD Press
Date of Publication: 12/09/14
ISBN: 1505455626ASIN:  B00QT8Q1JQ
Number of pages:  110Word Count: 51,022
Cover Artist: Anne Sabach
Book Description:
My name is Cat and I am one sexy, stylin’ lady who just so happens to be a phone sex operator, or as I like to say, conversation specialist. LOL! Now don’t go dissing me until you hear my story, because it’s a good one. I have been an operator for years, and feel it’s my job to make my clients comfortable when talking to me about their fetishes; and trust me, they can get weird. Most clients have your typical fascination with role-play and bondage, but some are really out there. Regardless of the scenario I have to maintain my professionalism. Don’t worry, I won’t get into all the nitty gritty, but I gotta do my job to make ends meet.
Especially after my sister Landa, the ho, disappears and dumps her four multicolored kids on me, indefinitely. Ronny is the oldest and he is afraid of his own shadow half the time. Michelle, or as I like to call her, Miss Thang, is a sassy, chubby, pre-teen who is always in the pantry. Zoe, falls somewhere in between and half the time you wouldn’t know she was there. Then there is the baby, Jesse, who is sort of caramel colored. He is a cutie pie but he has a dairy problem and it is rank. I didn’t sign up for this, but I admit the kids are growing on me.
In the meantime, I admit, I get lonely without a man. One of my clients, Dale, has been with me for four years. He is your basic nerdy type who has probably never been laid, but there is something about him I like. Most of the time we just talk during our conversations, but he is ready to meet in person and take things to the next level. I am confident in who I am, given my larger than average size, but I am still not sure I am up for a face-to-face with Dale. Then there is Ed, now he is HOT. Alright so he is married and has kids, big whoop, he stirs something in me and we have crossed the line from associates to lovers.
Suddenly I have gone from being a lonely operator to a woman with two men knocking at my door, literally.
Available at Amazon    iTunes   BN   Kobo   Inktera   Scribd
Excerpt: 
My name is Cat. No, it isn’t short for Catherine or Catrina. It’s just plain old Cat, as in meow. Don’t ask me what my mother was thinking when she named me. Apparently during her labor she lost her mind. What I can tell you is that I took some serious hazing for my name growing up; you can only imagine the pussy references I endured. Good Lord. The other thing I will share is that I am a natural red head. Not that bright Ronald McDonald fresh-from-the-box shade of red, but a nice deep red bordering on auburn. Also, my hair is nice and thick, just like the rest of me. I am a plus size, juicy, stylin’ woman with a deep, sexy voice and get this folks; I get paid to have phone sex with your man. You heard me right, but in case it went in one ear and out the other the first time, I will repeat it. I am a phone sex operator, or as I like to think, a conversation specialist. Men, and occasionally women, from all over the world pay the big bucks to listen to me purr and moan. It’s a tough life, but somebody’s got to do it. I’m not being coy when I say that. Well, maybe I am a teeny bit.I refer to the individuals who pay to listen to my sexy voice as my ‘clients’, although sometimes I think of them as my secret lovers. To call them my clients sounds more sophisticated and reminds me that what we have is a business relationship. It’s a given that the majority of my clients have crazy sexual fetishes, however, with me they have the opportunity to live out their fantasies in a judgment-free zone. I ain’t gonna lie, it can get weird, I mean you can only imagine my clientele, right? I roll with it though, and think of it like being an actress. I got a role to play and hell, I don’t actually meet the men in real life. Don’t get me wrong, we have a personal relationship. We get to know each other as we chat, but we do it all on the phone or online. The World Wide Web has changed my life. It has allowed me to create a business plan that I can execute right from the comfort of my kitchen. This byatch right here is on fire, so look out.Let me explain the details of my job. I have a website called “Listen to the Kitty Purr”. I am an excellent graphic designer and I am all over social media. I have a Facebook page, Twitter account, Instagram, and even an old MySpace account that I keep active. I am up to fourteen thousand likes on my website for crying out loud. You’d be surprised how many followers I have on my blog and how many questions I get from other women who want to go into business for themselves and make money doing what I do. I have an image of a kitten on my home page, but when you scroll over her with your cursor, my image shows up in its place. I don’t show too much, just my cleavage and the tattoo of a red rose on my right shoulder. I leave the rest up to the client’s imagination, I am not a prostitute for Christ sakes. And for crying out loud I am NOT a lesbian. (Not that there’s anything wrong with that.) But geeze Louise, let it go already.I have paid advertisements in all the usual places. My phone number and website information can be found on porn site ads as well as the back of magazines. I pay hefty advertising fees for these, but it’s always worth it. So is having a land line so I don’t drop calls or get interrupted.On my website I have an outline explaining how my program works. If a person reads, and then agrees to both my terms and prices, they can contact me. I work by appointment only and get paid up front (I learned that the hard way), and find PayPal is the best and easiest service out there. My clients range from the anxious nerdy types to the overachievers. I have had government officials, schoolteachers, counselors, firemen, and even stay-at-home moms contact me.Once I have been contacted, I do a quick background check on my client. Safety first. If they don’t have any arrests, I get started. You are probably wondering what sets me apart from other phone sex operators. In other words, why would your average Joe call me and bother with terms, when he can pick up the phone and dial Dolly from Lusty Lines without any bologna? The bottom line is that what I offer is more than just a one time rodeo. I am always available to my caller, so as we get to know one another, over time, our conversations become even more satisfactory.Most of my competitors work for companies that employ dozens of people who answer phones and entertain their clients. If a client has a really good time with a particular operator and wants to get them again for a future call, chances are slim to none. Operators with made up names like Candy and Mindy are incentivized with bonuses to engage up to twenty clients per hour. I know, it’s crazy, right? I guess they work under the premise that the caller is already worked up and rarin’ to go when they phone in; so the average call is only three to six minutes long. I, however, stretch out my calls and enthrall the client to ensure he calls back, and he always does. I charge twenty dollars for the first two minutes and two dollars a minute after that. If I do things right, I can earn up to seventy-six dollars per half hour. That’s on the high end, but still it’s not too shabby especially when you compare it to the minimum wage my competitors are collecting.I don’t negotiate my price. I do, however, negotiate what topics we can discuss and what type of play is allowed. I have to be very firm about this at the beginning of our call so that future calls go well. I am a businesswoman first and foremost. The raunchier and more outlandish the client’s tastes, the higher the rate. For instance, if a client is into listening to me tinkle, then I maintain my sense of humor and professional status while I engage their fantasy and charge them double. If I can’t laugh at this then I am in the wrong business. I draw the line at bestiality, satanism, or anything involving kids or incest. I am not into that stuff and don’t want to pretend to be. Most clients have the basic foot fetish, bondage fetish, or shower fetish that are pretty run of the mill. I have studied up on all the possible topics by reading erotica and doing web searches so I am pretty well versed in all areas. I even have a client that prefers I speak in an English accent. I am happy to oblige him as it’s a fairly easy accent to mimic. Once a client asked me to speak Chinese, well let’s just say that was a debacle because I laughed the whole time.I divide my callers into three categories, four if you count the newbies or one timers. First, I have “clean” callers that prefer I don’t use foul language or talk dirty. They like a sweeter more wholesome experience and I give it to them. Second, I have “dirty” callers that like profanity and hot sex, usually involving toys or bondage. Third are the “dangerous” callers. These are the clients that want to know all about me. They want to know everything from my favorite foods, to how I dress, where I live, and what my family is like. Sometimes they ask if I have kids or pets, which are indicators of a clientele I probably don’t want to be talking to. If I ever have to cut anyone off, it’s usually from this list.My busiest days of the year are Christmas and Valentine’s day when guys are feeling lonely and vulnerable and in need of company. My slowest day is Super-bowl Sunday. Otherwise I maintain a fairly steady stream of callers from ten a.m. to midnight. Anyone that calls after hours without an appointment and wakes me up gets charged double.I keep a thesaurus on my counter at all times in case I run out of words for “baby” or to describe certain parts of the anatomy, believe me there are only so many times you can use the same word over and over again in a fifteen minute appointment. I usually dress up for my appointments as well. It’s true I could talk to my clients while wearing sweat pants and they would never know the difference, but I feel sexier if I am dressed to the nines and that comes across in the call.I also keep lozenges on hand at all times, that and water bottles or hot tea with honey. I do A LOT of talking and my throat gets dry fast.Another way to make bank is through merchandising. I have an extensive list of items that are for sale, including stockings, garter belts, perfumes, and undergarments among other things. You would not believe how many people ask for these items. I should buy stock at Victoria’s Secret! I stock up on the sales, which are usually five pairs of undies for twenty dollars, and then I double the cost for a client, plus shipping.I earn every penny the hard way, get it? The “hard” way, God, I crack myself up. I build relationships with my clients and strive to keep it real. Not all our conversations are about sex, sometimes the men are lonely or just need to vent about their wives. That’s where the professional conversationalist part comes in handy. Sometimes I am more therapist than phone operator, and I take this role very seriously. I always want to help my clients if they are struggling. I also want to provide a safe haven for them, a place that they can share secret thoughts without feeling ashamed.The work is interesting and I learn as I go. I don’t Skype with clients, but I do instant message in real time. I used to record myself moaning and groaning and just press play when a client needed a quick release, but one time a client shared the feed and I had to threaten the bastard with breach of contract and a court date. I like real time interactions better anyway because we can hear each other and really connect. I know when someone is engaged or distracted based on his or her voice. This makes it better for business.fe
Some of the men get excited before I even start talking dirty. I talk to them about everyday things while we chat and ‘get to know each other’. I tell them I am making waffles with whipped cream and strawberries to give them a visual, and let them picture me however they want. They might ask what I look like, and my classic response is, “what do you want me to look like?” I take his or her response and build it up. I start out pretty perky and ask all kinds of questions. I praise a man at every turn and build his ego, priming him for future phone calls. At this point of the phone call, or online chat, he thinks he is the one in control. I let him go on thinking that, it’s all part of my plan.
About the Author:
Julie Dewey is the author of four novels, including Forgetting Tabitha: The Story of an Orphan Train Rider, One Thousand Porches and The Back Building. Two books ranked #1 on Amazon’s Best Seller List. She resides in Central New York with her husband and two children.
Her husband is a sexy trucker, her daughter’s a Nashville crooner, and her son, well he hasn’t figured out what he is yet but he’s got time. Livin’ Large is Julie’s first book series and she applies the motto to her own life. Live large, love life, and be happy, dammit!
To learn more about Julie, visit her online:
http://juliedewey.com/
https://www.facebook.com/authorjuliedewey
http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7179658.Julie_Dewey

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Release Day Blitz Speak of the Devil by J.M. Gregoire

Nearly half a year has passed since Asmodeus opened the gateway allowing an unknown number of demons to spill onto our plane of existence. 


A fatal standoff has left Dez on her own to hunt the stray demons down and send them back to Hell where they belong. Her life has become a never-ending cycle of violence and bloodshed, further tainted by a deepening depression and a longing for the person she had to leave behind. 

When Dez receives an unexpected phone call, she makes her way to the northern Arizona desert to see an old friend. Upon arrival, there is a message waiting for her from beyond the grave, and she realizes before she can go any further, she must face the one thing she’s been dreading for months. 

To make matters worse, the message is meant to help her mission, but it forces Dez into an impossible choice. Only Dez can decide which road to take, but will she be able to handle the consequences of her decision?    




RELEASED TODAY!
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Prologue
Michael
Michael reached over to the cool leather of the passenger seat and grabbed his phone without taking his eyes off the vagabond shuffling his way across the darkened parking lot.  He watched the homeless man for a few more minutes, thumbing the power button on the side of the phone.  Once the man was out of sight, he pressed the button, and, just as it had a thousand times before, the prospect of hearing from Dez lit a spark of hope deep in his core.  The screen beamed to life.No text messages.                                  No emails.  No missed calls.  Another press of the power button left the broad interior of the 1971 Chevy Nova SS once again draped in shadows.  Disappointment and worry replaced any good feelings he may have had when he picked up the phone.  It had been almost five months since she had literally vanished into thin air right in front of him, leaving him stunned and a little confused.  Then the covens had slipped into a state of utter chaos.They were pissed. They wanted retribution.  They demanded her head.After many hours of talking himself blue in the face, he finally made a good number of them understand that Dez was not the bad guy in the situation, but it did not sate them all.  The majority of the covens wanted Dez to come back and stand before them to give her account of what had transpired, to explain what led her to choose ending Cassandra’s life. But most likely to explain her newfound abilities.  Of course, justice was what they were all yelling about, and that’s the story they stuck to.  Representatives for some of the covens couldn’t believe that Cassandra, their leader and trusted advisor for centuries, had been behind the events of previous weeks.  In a desperate attempt to get ahead of the apocalyptic curve, she had taken it upon herself to align the coven with a demon.  Not just any demon, but a prince in the hierarchy of Hell, one of the original fallen angels.  After going on a blind hunt for the demon to stop him from opening the gateway to Hell, they killed him, but not before an unknown number of lesser demons escaped, and several lives were lost on the side of the white hats, his brother Lucas included. Shortly after the gateway was closed, Dez made the connection between the demon and Cassandra.  They had dropped everything and flown back to Italy, and Dez faced off with Cassandra in front of the entire Council.  The whole scene ended with Cassandra reduced to a pile of ash, and Dez…she just vanished.  Michael knew why, of course.  Dez had used her newfound ability to manipulate Hellfire to execute Cassandra for her crimes.  He felt, deep down, Cassandra got exactly what was coming to her, but in the eyes of the Council, the death sentence was not Dez’s to hand down.   They were wrong.Dez was the only one who could have stopped her.  Cassandra was much too old, much too powerful, for anyone else to handle.  An extraordinarily powerful witch and vampire with more than a few centuries under her belt, she would have wiped the floor with any Council member who decided to step to her.  There really was no other way.  He wished Dez had stuck around to stand behind her actions; it didn’t do her case any favors when she fled.  All it accomplished was making her look guilty of some wrongdoing.  He could easily track her down, but she had left for a reason.  Whatever the reason, she would come back to him when she was ready.  He was giving her the time she needed.Sighing with frustration and no small amount of defeat, Michael pulled the black leather briefcase up from the passenger floor and opened it on the crimson red seat.   He removed the Desert Eagle and its suppressor from the case, careful to keep both low and out of sight.  As he screwed the silencer into the barrel of the gun, he took one last look around the parking lot of the vacant warehouse.  Tucking the gun inside his leather jacket, Michael climbed out of the car, closing the door quietly.  He made his way across the parking lot and slipped between the two decrepit concrete buildings.  Of the benefits which came with being a vampire, flawless eyesight in complete darkness was Michael’s favorite.  It gave him a distinct advantage when he needed to fulfill a contract at night.  His mission this night had nothing to do with a contract.  Since the night at the gateway off the coast of South America, all of Michael’s time was taken up with worrying about Dez and tracking down the demons who had escaped.  If he was right, tonight would be his forty-ninth and fiftieth kill.  Michael crept around the building, careful to stay quiet and out of sight.  As he rounded the back corner of the decaying buildings, he stopped to make sure there were no vagrants hanging around.  Sure the coast was clear, he continued on to the crumbling loading dock on the backside of the building on the right.  The metal stairs leading up to the dilapidated concrete pad were falling apart, the railing long since having fallen off.  Shards of broken glass littered the ground, making every step Michael took far louder than he would have preferred.  When he reached the top of the stairs, he pulled his gun out and checked the chamber one last time, careful to make sure the cool slide didn’t click too loudly when he gingerly moved it back into place.  He was pretty sure there were only two of them in the building, but in the event there were more, the key to getting the jump on them was to be as stealthy as possible.    Michael entered the building, mindful of where he was stepping, never stilling his eyes from scanning his surroundings.  He listened intently for any betrayal of the demons’ presence, but heard nothing.  The wide open room was void of any furniture or machinery.  Nothing remained on the expansive floor but pieces of the falling walls and more shards of dust-covered glass.  Satisfied there was no one near the loading dock, Michael made his way to the large metal staircase leading to the upper levels of the building.  He moved silently and swiftly, confident he wasn’t alone in the structure.  He just needed to find where the demons were squatting.  The two he was after had taken possession of some of the local homeless, but he had seen and killed enough of their kind to know them on sight.  He worked his way up the rusted stairs, always listening.  He reached the second floor of the building, and stepped onto yet another empty floor, dirt and refuse the only occupants.  He turned back and continued up the stairs.  The third level was also silent.  He reached the fourth and final floor, and his ears were greeted with silence.  Rather than an open floor like the previous three, there was a maze of hallways and rooms.  He stepped off the stairs and started down the center hallway.  As he passed each room along the hallway, he strained, listening for the tiniest noise.  Nothing.He knew they were here, and given the absolute quiet he was greeted with, they knew he was here as well.  He glided down the hallway, stepping lightly.  He was about to give up, nearly convinced he had been wrong, when the terrified scream of a woman ripped through the air from somewhere on the same level, closer to the interior stairwell.  He turned and ran, following the pained sounds of the woman’s terror.  Down the main corridor.Turn left.Turn right.Another right, and the screaming stopped.  Michael moved quickly, searching each room in the area.  Suddenly, there was a crashing sound from somewhere at the end of the hallway.  Michael ran down the hallway, slowing right before he reached the door.  He took one quick clearing breath, and turned the corner, gun raised.The two men stood over the body of a girl in a torn grey sweater, her faded blue jeans and ripped red panties scrunched down around her ankles.  They looked up at Michael, their black eyes gleaming in the minimal light, and released a loud combination of a sick, feral growl and blood-curdling scream, a horrific ear-piercing noise, like giant fingernails scraping down the world’s biggest chalkboard.  Without hesitation, Michael fired one shot in the dead center of the demon’s forehead, and immediately did the same to the second.  Both demons dropped to the floor with no sign of life.  Just to be sure, Michael walked over and shot each one in the head a few more times.  Michael’s attention turned to the girl.  He listened but heard no pulse.  Kneeling down, he checked her neck to be sure, and still found no heartbeat. Given the odd angle of her head, it appeared one of the demons had snapped her neck.  Probably to stop the screaming.  He shook his head and walked away.  There was nothing else he could do here.  He didn’t bother burning the bodies to dispose of the evidence.  Chances were pretty good no one was going to find them until much later anyway, and by that time, he’d be long gone.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Bestselling author J.M. Gregoire was born and raised in New Hampshire, USA and despite her abhorrence for any season that dares to drop to a temperature below seventy degrees, she still currently resides there with her two children and her two cats. Always a passionate reader, her love of urban fantasy books eventually morphed into a love of writing them. She is currently working on the Demon Legacy series and has a Demon Legacy spinoff series, the Killer Instinct series, coming soon.


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Cover Reveal Winter's Wolf by Tara Lain

Winter's Wolf Tales of the Harker Pack Book 3By Tara Lain

Book Description:
Winter Thane was raised on the two cardinal rules of werewolf existence: don’t reveal yourself to humans under penalty of death, and there’s no such thing as a gay werewolf. It’s no surprise when his father drags him from his wild life in remote Canada back to Connecticut to meet his old pack in hopes it will persuade Winter to abandon his love of sex with human males. Of course Dad’s hopes are dashed when they come face-to-face with the gay werewolves in the Harker pack.
Winter takes one look at FBI agent, Matt Partridge, and decides bird is his favorite food. Partridge is embroiled in an investigation into drug dealing and the death of a fellow agent. He can’t let himself get distracted by the young, platinum-haired beast, but then Winter proves invaluable in the search for clues, a move that winds them both up in chains and facing imminent death. Winter quickly learns his father’s motives are questionable, the pack alphas are a bunch of pussies, humans aren’t quite what they seem, and nothing in the forests of Connecticut is pure except love. 



Release Date: 
February 27, 2015

You can pre-order your copy at

Also available for pre-order in paperback from Dreamspinner Press



Excerpt

Matt’s heart stopped beating. Cliché, Partridge. Watch the clichés. Still, that’s what it  felt  like. Walking  straight toward  him,  like  he  was  being  pulled  on  a  rubber  string, strode that huge hunk of gorgeous he’d seen two nights before. The one related to Cole Harker’s husband. The man moved like an animal, gliding and rippling, and the big bulge in the front of his jeans advertised another kind of animal. Big Bird! Shit, the thing had to  be  at least  at  half-mast,  and it looked  huge. Matt  wanted to  fall  down  and  worship. 
Control. Deep breath. He’ll probably walk right by.
Sweet Jesus, he stopped right in front of the table.
“Hi.  I’m  Winter  Thane.  I  saw  you  here  the  other  night  with  my,  uh,  cousin  by marriage, Cole Harker.”
Matt swallowed. Try to be cool. “Yes, I remember he went to speak with you. I’m Matt Partridge.”
“Yes.”
Matt’s eyes widened. Had Winter asked about  him? “Would  you,  uh, care to join me?”
“Thanks.”
Trying  not to  stare at the  play  of muscle in those  hard thighs and the large  bulge between proved more than he was up to. When he glanced up from his inspection, Winter Thane gazed at him with a small smile. It said Caught ya. Matt cleared his throat. “Uh, I was just about to order a beer. Would you like another?”
“No,  I’m  good,  thanks.”  Winter  wrapped  his  beautifully  shaped  lips  around  the head  of the  bottle,  seemed to lovingly  caress it  for  a  second,  and then  sucked  down  a drink.
Holy crap.
Matt waved at the waitress, who hurried over, gazing at Winter most of the time. He ordered a beer, and she rushed off, actually bumping into a patron because she couldn’t stop staring over her shoulder. Who could blame her? Matt chuckled. “You must get that a lot.”
The  guy  shook  that  snowflake  hair.  “No.  Where  I’m  from  there  aren’t  a  lot  of females.”
“You must enjoy being here.” Matt swallowed.
Winter  shrugged.  “City  guy  like  you’d  be  used  to  it.  For  me  it’s  new  and  pretty weird.”
Matt laughed. “Who’d look at me?”
Winter’s blue eyes flashed up. “Who wouldn’t?”
Matt’s  mouth  opened  but  nothing  came  out.  Finally  he  got  his  brain  and  tongue connected. “So, uh, you’re visiting the area?”
Winter’s pale brows pulled together. “My father’s theory is we’re here to stay. I’d say the jury’s out.”
“Not a good experience so far?”
“An  old Chinese  curse  said,  ‘May  you live in interesting times.’  So  far the trip’s been interesting.” Those melted ice eyes raised slowly to Matt. “But it could get better.”
Every  resolve  Matt  had  ever  made  tried  to  dissolve  in  that  field  of  blue.  Come on, Partridge. You’re investigating these people. The  arrival  of the  waitress  felt like  a lifeline, and  he  grabbed the  bottle, threw way too much money  on the table, and  drank down half the contents in one pull.
“Thank you, sir.” She batted her eyes at Winter and left.
Winter pointed at the bottle. “Thirsty?”
“Uh, yes, I guess so.”
“So you’re the law?”
“How’d you know that?”
Winter grinned. “Aside from the haircut that speaks of gray suits and gray cars?”
Matt ducked his head and ran a hand over his carefully barbered light brown hair. 
“Bad, huh?”
“Nah. It’s cute. Besides, I asked Ben Freedman about you.”
Matt’s heart leaped and stomach sank—the war of suspicion and desire. “Why?”
Again, the long, slow gaze. “I think you’re gorgeous.”
Matt frowned. Suspicion won. “Come on. Don’t give me that shit.”
Winter cocked his head. “You don’t believe me?”
“Of course  not. Why would a  guy like  you think  I’m  gorgeous?” He  drawled the word and narrowed his eyes. “Did you hear somewhere that I’m gay? What the fuck are you playing at?”
Winter smiled slowly. “I hoped you liked men. Or maybe I should say, I hoped you liked me.”
“Who the fuck wouldn’t like you?” He pushed his bottle away. “I should go.”
Winter’s  hand  clamped  on  his  forearm.  Long,  slender  fingers  carved  with  sinew. 
“Please don’t. I’m not a very civilized creature, so maybe I don’t know how to say what I feel.”
Matt tried to catch his breath. “And what’s that?”
“That I want to take you out into the trees and fuck you until you scream.”
Every cell in his body  froze—except his cock, which expanded like someone was blowing it up through a hose. “Who told you I’m gay?”
“No one. I don’t know if you’re gay. I don’t know if I’m gay. I don’t give a damn. I just know I want to suck you and fuck you until daylight.”
Matt  stared  into  those  mesmerizing  eyes,  and  his  hands  shook.  He  couldn’t  look away. “People don’t say shit like that.”
“People don’t. I do.”


About the Author


Tara Lain writes the Beautiful Boys of Romance in LGBT erotic romance novels that star her unique, charismatic heroes. Her first novel was published in January of 2011 and she’s now somewhere around book 23. Her best­selling novels have garnered awards for Best Series, Best Contemporary Romance, Best Ménage, Best LGBT Romance, Best Gay Characters, and Tara has been named Best Writer of the Year in the LRC Awards. In her other job, Tara owns an advertising and public relations firm. She often does workshops on both author promotion and writing craft. She lives with her soul­mate husband and her soul­mate dog in Laguna Beach, California, a pretty seaside town where she sets a lot of her books. Passionate about diversity, justice, and new experiences, Tara says on her tombstone it will say “Yes”!

You can find Tara at
                   





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