Roxanne Rhoads's Blog, page 417

Guest Blog- Hers to Claim by Patricia A Knight

The Lost Art of the Insult—or—How to Write a Bad Review
I despair at today’s critiques. If authors are supposed to write to the average level of our reader – 4th grade – how are we ever going to get truly well-written bad reviews? It has become a dying art. It was not always this way. There have been deadly clever and deeply scathing comments on books, plays, opera and on and on.
George S. Kaufman, one of American’s foremost comedic playwrights and literary critics, summed up a review of a fellow playwright’s work with the following acerbic comment:

“I understand your play is full of single entendres.”
Wow. Kneecapped. Of course, you do have to know what an ‘entendre’ is and how it is commonly used. I don’t think they covered a French colloquialism in 4th grade English. 
Kaufman was on the receiving end of some zingers, too. Dorothy Parker, noted American wit and author once commented on a play Kaufman directed:

“This play is so poorly directed it wouldn’tfill the house if it was the Last Supper staring the original cast.”
This of course, presupposes that you know what the Last Supper is, and who sat at the table. If, according to “Jay-Walking”, young people have problems identifying the Eiffel Tower or The White House, I doubt that a reference to the classical painting of Jesus and his disciples by Leonardo da Vinci is going to compute.



Here is Parker, again about one of Kaufman’s leading ladies (Katherine Hepburn):
“She runs the gamut of emotions from A to B.”
Ouch. But one has to admit, that’s a clever insult. And I could go on and on with “Parkerisms”:“The affair between Margot Asquith and Margot Asquith willlive as one of the prettiest love stories in all literature.”
An oblique way of saying the author was in love with herself if ever I heard one.  Of course, you could have written the book that Ambrose Bierce said this about:
“The covers of this book are too far apart.”
And even famous classics have come in for their share of scathing put-downs (pun intended).
“Paradise Lost is a book, that once put down, is very hard to pick up again.”
Samuel Johnson said that about John Milton’s epic poem! (I agree with Samuel Johnson.)
But! Hope is on the horizon. I have discovered that Goodreads has a “favorite review” contest every year and started to peruse the various reviews. 
I came to a startling conclusion. “Gifs” (you know those files that show moving clips of movies or characters doing funny things) are being used to illustrate reviews. 
Some of them are extraordinarily creative—and howlingly funny. 
For example check this out: https://www.goodreads.com/review/show/340987215 
So, perhaps originality and wit has not been lost after all. It has simply taken another form. Like the written book, reviews have simply gone digital. In the final analysis, if you care about the written word, if books have entertained you or made you throw them across the room in disgust, please leave a review. Your fellow readers will thank you, and so will the author.

Patricia 



Hers to ClaimBook Four in the Verdantian SeriesPatricia A Knight
Genre: Adult, Sci/Fi, Fantasy Romance 18+
Publisher: Troll River Publications                                                  ASIN: B00MQGNQD4
Number of pages: 360Word Count:  90,637
Cover Artist: Skylar Faith
Book Description:
A prince from the Nyth Uchel mountains … a healer from the Oshtech desert …
Scornfully rejected by her desert lover and uncertain of her place in the world, Adonia traveled a perilous road to the fabled mountain-city of Nyth Uchel. She came to heal the sick and dying, but in the arms of highborn prince, Hel, Adonia found the answer to saving herself.
Descended from nobility, once great kings of Verdantia, Hel willingly bore the burden of his dying city and its people on his shoulders. Watching helplessly as a malingering evil attacked the very soil under his feet, he crushed his pride to summon help. He’d been staggered to discover the answer to saving his city and perhaps all Verdantia might lie behind a heavy fall of chocolate hair and shy brown eyes.
As their entire planet faces an encroaching black death, two seemingly disparate individuals forge a partnership of love and sacrifice that will alter their future forever. All of Verdantia will be tested.
Stand alone. Not a cliff-hanger. HEA 360 pages. M/F, Mild D/s themes, light spanking, and an over-sexed but sensitive prince with a hero complex.

Buy it at Amazon  Kobo Smashwords



Book Trailers:
http://youtu.be/n0FbdEYahV0 http://youtu.be/0qn1OdDSL4U http://youtu.be/mji6SCxiskQ
Quotes from the book:
“Yes. I know all about soul-wraiths.” Ramsey frowned. “How did you avoid them in the past?”

“Set a perimeter of energized diaman crystal. That will keep them at bay.” Hel smiled without humor. “I have the diaman crystal in my saddle pack. I lack a sexual partner to energize them. I had intended to return with a magistra but a magister will work as well. Care to volunteer?”

“Only if I top,” Ramsey snapped.

“You’d have to kill me first,” returned Hel.

“With pleasure.”

Steffania took a breath. Ram cut her off. “No. I don’t share you, Vixen.”

Fear of the unknown almost froze Adonia’s tongue, but she was the obvious answer. She could do this. The opportunity would never present itself again. “I’ll be your partner.”
He would have seduced her into the erotic world his particular carnality demanded and reveled in the passionate response he knew he could draw from her. She would submit to him gladly. The Goddess had created her for it. The woman gloried in serving.

Sadly, his world was not that world any longer. Brutal practicality stripped his relationships of any niceties and turned sex into another duty performed for those who looked to him for protection.

Steffania shook her head in mock sorrow. “I’ve heard it said people never grow up. They merely learn how to behave in front of others.” She leaned over and whispered loudly, “Ramsey has done neither.”

"It’s a delicious contradiction. He is never more wholly mine than when I am under his total control, in complete service to him.”
Excerpt One:
A third male crossed his arms over his chest and with a low rumble of laughter, relaxed his stance. “DeHelios. Ha! The last time I saw you, you sprawled unconscious in a shrub leaving a lovely piece of horseflesh in need of an owner.”
Hel studied the speaker. He knew that laconic drawl—but its owner was a criminal with no love for Verdantian nobility. What was this man doing here? “Ramsey DeKieran, you nefarious thief! You owe me the price of that fine horse. You fell on me from a tree, you coward. I never had a chance.”
Ramsey snorted. “Still an egotistical ass. You should be grateful I took only the horse. Your head is still nicely attached.” He caught the eyes of the other two men. “Gentlemen, that tower of smelly fur is ‘Hel’. You may know him by a different name. The Haarb called him bás dtost—the silent death.” Ramsey rolled his eyes.
Hel raised his lip in a snarl at Ramsey’s mockery. “Such illustrious company, DeKieran. Your status in the world seems to have risen—but then it could hardly have fallen lower.”
Ramsey grunted. “Unlikely, eh? You may address me as Lord DeKieran, Fifteenth Earl of House DeKieran, and the striking redhead preparing to unman you from ten feet away is my wife, Lieutenant Colonel Steffania Rickard of the Queen’s Blue Daggers. Be careful with your words, Hel. My vixen is wicked with a throwing knife and takes insults to me personally.”

Hel arched an eyebrow in surprise and nodded at the glorious redhead measuring him with amused golden eyes. “Ma’am, my condolences on your marriage. I assume you had no choice.”
About the Author
Patricia A. Knight is the pen name for an eternal romantic who lives in Dallas, Texas with her horses, Italian Greyhounds, "Gidget the Rescue Chihuahua"—and the best man on the face of the earth—oh yeah, and the most enormous bullfrogs you will ever see.
Word to the wise: don’t swim in the pool after dark.
She loves to hear from readers and can be reached online
http://www.trollriverpub.com/
http://www.patriciaaknight.com
https://www.facebook.com/patricia.knight.71619
https://twitter.com/patriciaaknight
http://www.pinterest.com/patriciak4394/
https://www.amazon.com/author/patriciaknight
https://www.rebelmouse.com/patriciaknight/#  
https://plus.google.com/u/0/+PatriciaKnightauthor/about

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10 Things to Know About the Strigoi Guest Blog and Giveaway with Ron D Voigts

While coming up with the lore of Strigoi, I borrowed from actual stories and folklore and added some stuff from my own imagination.  Here are top ten things to know.
1. The Strigoi is a shapeshifter. As a shapeshifter, he or she can take on any human form, including the garments worn. Most Strigoi will remain in their own image.  In human form, the Strigoi is commonly called a vampire.
2. Some Strigoi prefer to take on the form of an animal. The favorite is the wolf. This by the way unifies the connection between the vampire and werewolf, making them one and the same creature.
3. Strigoi need blood to survive.  It is the infusion of iron that they crave and need to survive. Too much iron though can be dangerous them.
4. A mirror will reflect the true nature of the Strigoi.  Whether in the form of an animal, the image of another man, or themselves appearing youthful, they will look as they should in their refection. In cases where the Strigoi is many centuries old, their appearance can be hideous, decaying and rotting.
5. An iron stake driven into the chest and through the heart will pin the Strigoi, immobilizing them but not kill.  As mentioned in #4 above, it’s the iron that does the trick.
6. They can plant false memories or erase real ones. Making someone do something against their will is another possibility. 
7. Sunlight robs the Strigoi of its powers.  At this time, they can be killed like a mortal, though they will return after nightfall unless killed as described in #10 below.8. Becoming a Strigoi occurs when bitten and is transferred by infection, much like rabies or malaria is passed on.
9. An infected person becomes the living Strigoi. The living Strigoi does not age and is immune to disease, cancers, and infections. In death, he or she will return.
10. The only way to kill a Strigoi is by decapitation or fire. In the latter case, the creature must be totally consumed.



Strigoi: The Blood BondTales of the StrigoiBook 1Ron D. Voigts
Genre: Paranormal, Horror
Publisher: Night Wings Publishing
ASIN: B00LQRJBZ6
Number of pages: 231Word Count:  72,000
Cover Artist: Rachel R. Colon
Book Description:
On the verge of suicide after his wife leaves him, Alex Regal learns he has inherited property located in a small town deep within the mountains. Putting things on hold, he heads to Glade, hoping for something positive in his life. Getting there is easy but leaving proves to be impossible. A spell exists, keeping everyone captive in this hidden place.
The town of Glade is run by a Shapeshifter called the Strigoi. The creature needs to drink human blood to survive. In folklore, taking the form of a man or an animal, the Strigoi became the basis of stories about vampires or werewolves. Now Alex must discover a dark secret before he becomes the vampire's next meal.
Book Trailer:  http://youtu.be/8wo4l7U-Xm4
Available at AmazonExcerpt 1:Maggie awoke in darkness. She blinked. Inky black filled her vision. She recalled the stag standing in the road, losing control of the car, and the accident.She tasted salt and metal. Her lower lip felt fat. A dull pain throbbed at the side of her head. She slid her fingers across her scalp and felt a bump.Her hand shook as she reached out and touched the steering wheel. She ran her fingers along the column and felt the keys dangling in the ignition. The engine no longer ran. Moving farther, she touched the headlight switch and turned it.The world lit up in front of her. The car had nosed into a tree. The headlight beams didn’t travel too far, absorbed by the brush, nearby trees, and the night. The dash clock read 2:13. By best estimate, Maggie had been knocked out for about ten hours. Hopefully only that. She didn’t feel too bad except for the pain radiating from the bump on her head.Now came a decision. Leave the car and head down the road, or stay?A black shadow passed in front of the car lights. If she’d blinked and she might have missed it. Possibly the night playing a trick on her eyes.Something hit the car hard. The vehicle rocked for a second and then grew quiet. Maggie held her breath and listened. All was silent like before.Above her, something moved on the car’s roof. First, the sound came as gentle thumps, like someone walking above her. The noise grew louder. Pounding and scratching. Maggie realized whatever had leaped atop the car meant to claw its way in.“Stop,” she screamed.The sound became intense, the action more violent.She cupped her hands over her ears and screamed, “Please, stop.”Another boom came from overhead. A silhouette passed in front of the car lights again and vanished into the darkness. Maggie wondered if it had left.Then the shadow appeared again, she heard a crash, and the left headlight went dark. Maggie thought this could not be happening. Things didn’t happen like this in the real world. Another crash and the right light went out.The only light in the car came from the dashboard. Whatever was outside could see her by the glow. Her fingers fumbled for the switch, twisted it, and darkness once more wrapped around her.Her breaths came in short pants. Her heart pounded in her ears. Her eyes opened, her eyes closed—the darkness remained the same. Minutes passed without a sound. The quiet grew unnerving.What had it been? She’d heard of bears attacking vehicles. Certainly that would explain the agility and size of whatever it had been. But did bears come out at night? A sickening feeling overwhelmed her—she was not alone. Something still remained outside, perhaps only feet from the car. She had not heard anything for a while now. Reason said it had left, but she knew it hadn’t. Whatever was outside waited for her.She raised her hand and touched the underside of the car’s roof. Her fingers dragged across the surface of the liner, sweeping in gentle arcs until she found the dome light. Her fingertip slipped over the rocker switch.A cold feeling washed over her. Her imagination played with her. If she pressed the switch and lit the interior, would something be outside, waiting? Would that be the trigger to provoke it?When she could no longer stand it, she pushed. Light flooded the inside of the car. Nothing happened. She was alone. The light soothed her and kept the darkness away. The night had no power over her.Then it hit the windshield. Fur pressed against the glass. A patch of fog wafted from the nostrils of a black nose. Fangs glistened in the light. Two red eyes stared at her.
Maggie pushed on the steering wheel, and the sound of the horn blared.
About the Author:
Originally from the Midwest, Ron D. Voigts now call North Carolina home where he and his wife have a small house off the Neuse River. Ron’s writing credits include the Penelope Mystery Series for middle-grade readers and the dark mystery thriller, Claws of the Griffin.  His reading taste is eclectic and depends if the first sentence captures his interest. When not writing and reading, he enjoys watching gritty movies, cooking gourmet food, and playing games on his PC.
http://rondvoigts.blogspot.com/
Twitter: @RonDVoigts
https://www.facebook.com/AuthorRonDVoigts
https://www.goodreads.com/RonDVoigts

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Kindle Freebie Claiming Their Royal Mate by Andie Devaux

Claiming Their Royal Mate:Part OneOf A Four-Part SerialAndie Devaux
Genre: Paranormal Erotic Romance /Menage
ASIN: B00NF11TB0
Number of pages: 63Word Count: 18,000
Cover Artist: Cormar Covers
Book Description:
Daniella Clark has never fit in—a fact she’s always blamed on being adopted. But when her body is overtaken by a need so fierce it defies human explanation, she turns to the one man she instinctively knows must have the answers she seeks—her sexy-as-sin neighbor. But his explanation isn’t one she can easily accept, and it means her sexual heat won’t go away without his help.
But it turns out her neighbor isn’t the only male she has to worry about. The prime of his people has laid claim to her. And though he radiates sexuality in a way that makes her mouth water, he’s more beast than man. With one weretiger charged to protect her, and the prime's plan to claim her for his own, Daniella must fight to maintain her sense of self, even while they fight for her.
Claiming Their Royal Mate: Part One is an 18,000-word novella, and it is the first entry in a four-part sexy, m/f/m serial. The story contains erotic situations and is intended for mature readers.
Available at Amazon Free October 15-19
CHAPTER ONE
Holy crap. How had she accumulated so many clothes that no longer fit?Barely keeping hold of the bags full of old clothes, Daniella Clark bumped her butt into the door to push it open. Stepping into the hallway, she hit something nearly as hard as the door—something that grunted at the contact. The bags slipped from her fingers to land on the threshold. The hard body she’d run into was attached to a large man blocking her doorway, and her glare didn’t seem to ruffle him at all. The jerk was always in her way lately.“Jeez. Way to skulk around my door. What do you want, Owen?” Daniella asked, hating the breathiness in her voice.Her neighbor stared at her for a moment, and his nostrils flared. Something passed behind his gaze. Something that made her breath catch and tension build between her legs. But just as quickly as it appeared, it was gone. And he shrugged, arrogant mask engaged.“I was just passing by. Not my fault you didn’t look where you were going.”The man was seriously aggravating. She could hardly believe they’d been good friends the last year, ever since she’d accidentally locked herself out of her apartment. He’d been kind enough to give her a place to hang out while she’d waited for the building’s superintendent to show up with the key. From then on, they’d hung out at least once a week, sometimes more, depending on her schedule. That is, up until a month ago.“I’m getting sick of you always being in my way, Owen.” She picked up the bags, needing something to look at that wasn’t her ridiculously hot neighbor. Her attraction to him itself was irritating because he wasn’t her type, even if he did make her weak in the knees. His face was hard, chiseled and memorable, but his features were too strong to be considered traditionally handsome—his nose too Roman and his jaw a little too wide. Not to mention he rarely smiled at her anymore, and she liked men who weren’t afraid to enjoy life.Heck, that was why she’d liked his company for so long—his easy laughter and quick wit. Over the last month, it was as if he’d turned into a different man. One who didn’t smile much and who was quick to anger. She tried not to take it personally, but the fact he’d just cut off their friendship, cold as ice, made being the bigger person difficult.His full head of light brown hair was nice, if always a little too long—as if he were constantly two weeks late to the barber. But he was far bigger than guys she liked to date. Broad and muscled like a man who never left the gym. Although she’d never actually seen him at the gym near their Denver apartment complex, he had to work out somewhere. Men just didn’t achieve that level of muscle naturally. But despite the fact he didn’t fit her usual mold, she found herself more than just a little attracted to him.Of course, that was a hopeless cause if ever there was one. She’d seen his dates—all two of them—since he’d moved into the building. They were both model thin, and while she was usually pretty proud of her voluptuous form, no one would ever accuse her of being waif-like. Her attraction had started with a tremor. Just the slightest quavering of her voice when she spoke to him. Then, just when she’d started looking at him differently, he’d shut down. Stopped talking to her, started making excuses for why he couldn’t hang out with her anymore. But he always seemed to be around. At her door when she walked out. Looking irritated to run into her in the parking lot.“I was walking through a shared hallway. Would you prefer I jump out the window to get to my truck?” A hint of a smile touched his lips, and her breath caught.Freaking-A. No way was a simple smile turning her on. She was really starting to dislike her neighbor. “I’d love for you to jump out a window or two. Heck, I’ll even help with a little push.”And she wasn’t lying. Sure, she wouldn’t really push a man out a window, but something inside of her—the part that was continuously horny, lately—was also feeling pretty violent. It came out at the weirdest times, and it took every ounce of her self-control not to lash out. Probably she needed to go see her doctor about a new birth control or something. Out of whack hormones were likely the cause of her wild emotions.Not that Owen was helping. He’d chased off two of her dates in the last month. Not by doing anything she could call him out for. No, he was too subtle for that. He’d just drop in to borrow sugar—when she’d never once seen the man bake. Or he’d say he thought he’d smelled gas coming from her apartment, and wanted to check. Then he’d glower in a way that made her dates run for the hills. And then he started showing up at her apartment when she was feeling particularly…needy. “Surely you wouldn’t want to see me injured.” His nose flared again, as if he couldn’t get enough of her smell. It was seriously disturbing. Even more disturbing was the sudden wetness between her legs and the tension coiling in her belly. She really needed to get some if a man she didn’t even like could get her engine revving by smelling her. “I wouldn’t bet on that.”“You’ll be happy I’m around, Daniella. Very soon.”She tried to shove past him, but he moved out of her way before they touched, quick for such a large man. Part of her regretted the lack of contact, but the rest of her thought that part was batshit crazy.

 About the Author:
Andie writes sexy erotic romance and erotica stories that push boundaries. When she's not writing (or reading!), she can usually be found daydreaming or attempting a new recipe. She thinks that life should require happily ever afters. And since she doesn't make the rules of life, she instead applies this philosophy to the worlds she can control-the ones in her books.
Website: http://andiedevaux.com/
Newsletter: http://eepurl.com/MkT1X
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/authorandiedevaux
Twitter: https://twitter.com/AndieDevaux

Guest Blog: The Asylum Tales by Jocelynn Drake

 


To help introduce you to Gage Powell, warlock and tattoo artist, I thought I would bring him into our world and we’d make some comparisons between our world and Low Town.

Talking with Warlock and Tattoo Artist Gage Powellby Jocelynn Drake
 Gage flopped down on the little sofa and looked around the brightly lit coffee shop buzzing with customers on the cool, fall Saturday.  It was nearly eleven so the morning rush was over but the lunch rush had yet to kick in.  The tattoo artist across from me looked a little bleary eyed but was starting to come around as he sipped his steaming mug of coffee.
“Don’t!” I sharply snapped as he lifted his foot and extended it as if he was going to place it on the coffee table before him.  The scuffed and dirty boot hung in the air, waiting.  “Don’t put that on the table or you’ll be wearing my coffee.”
A smirk grew on his face as he slowly placed his foot on the opposite knee.  I relaxed, putting my own mug back on the coffee table between us.  If anything, working with Gage was always entertaining and forced me to stay on my toes.  It wasn’t as dangerous as working with a fiery vampire, but I had a feeling it would soon reach that point.
“Have you been staying out of trouble?” I asked, sliding the digital recorder closer to him on the table.  The noise was low enough that I didn’t expect to have trouble recording him.
“If you’re worried about material for a third book, I wouldn’t.  I’ve got something new for you,” he said with an evil grin.
“No doubt.  I was just worried the Towers were still trying to remove your head.”
Gage shrugged, pretending nonchalance toward the ruling powers of his world, but I knew better.  Every one cowered at the thought of the witches and warlocks – me included.
“I’m sure there’s plenty that want me dead, but they haven’t gotten to me yet.”
I shook my head.  Yet was the key word.  The Towers would prefer to have him dead following his escape, and I was worried they’d find a loophole in their agreement, even if things had changed recently to make him a little safer.
“Why did you want to meet here today?  Tired of Low Town already?”
I had made a few visits to Low Town and it had been quite interesting as well as educational.  “No, I wanted to talk about your world in general today, and I thought it might be easiest when you can easily compare it to my world.”
Gage sat forward a little and looked around the coffee shop and bakery with fresh eyes.  I watched him stare at the people as they walked in alone or in groups trailed by kids on electronic devices.  A frown grew on his face.
“Thoughts?” I prompted.
“It’s … boring,” he said as he sat back.
“It’s a coffee shop, not a night club,” I said.
“I didn’t say it to be mean.”  He shrugged as if struggling for the words.  “It’s all the same here.  It’s like going to an all-you-can-eat buffet, but everything is chicken.  There’s a lot of ways to cook chicken, but in the end, it’s still just chicken.”
“Because everyone is human here?”
“Yes.”  He dropped his foot on the floor and slid to the edge of his seat.  “You know the next person to walk through the door will be human.  So will the one after that.  In Low Town, we’ve got coffee shops exactly like this, but it’s filled with other creatures.  At any second, a goblin couple could walk through the door followed by a siren and a succubus.  There would be flyers listing ingredients for everything because of all the insane food allergies of the different peoples, and warnings posted if a fey works in the kitchen.  There seems to be less of a chance for something interesting to happen here.”
“Low Town has a lot of potential craziness,” I conceded.  On my first visit to the city, I nearly ran into an ogre; met a troll, elf, and incubus; and was threatened by a warlock.  There’s no telling what might have happened if I stayed another hour.  “So I’m guessing you wouldn’t want to live here.”
Gage laughed.  “Live here?  No.  But I think it would be a nice place to vacation.  No vampires hunting you.  No worrying about packs of shifters because it’s a full moon.  No worrying about fey dusting your food and turning you into their slave.”
“Yeah, I can see your point.  This world may not be as exciting but at least I don’t have to worry about some pissed off witch taking out half the city because her cat died.”  I chuckled.  I could understand Gage’s comments because I felt the same way about Low Town.  It was an interesting place to visit, but it wasn’t somewhere I wanted to live.
“True,” Gage said on a sigh.
“I guess magic is what makes a world more interesting.”
The tattoo artist sat forward and reached for his mug of coffee.  “It’s not the magic, but the people that make it interesting.  Bronx is a troll and can’t do any magic, but I’ve seen him take out two vampires with a handful of buttons.  That isn’t about magic.  It’s about knowing interesting people.”
Watching Gage sink back into the sofa and contentedly drink his coffee, I found myself smiling.  My writing had allowed me to cross into two worlds.  In the end, it wasn’t what they could do that made the adventure, but it was who they were that drew me back again and again.
Want to learn more about Gage and his city of Low Town?  Check out his urban fantasy series, The Asylum Tales.  The Final Asylum Tales book is releasing this month!

Demon's FuryThe Asylum TalesBook 3.1Jocelynn Drake
Publisher: Harper Voyager ImpulseRelease Date: October 14, 2014ASIN: B00HYMDS8S
Book Description:
Jocelynn Drake continues her successful urban fantasy series, Asylum Tales, with Demon’s Fury, set in a world where elves, faeries, trolls, werewolves, and vampires walk free among humanity.
Powerful warlock and tattoo artist Gage has managed to escape the magical Ivory Towers who terrorize the rest of humans and monsters – but at a price.
Now he must join forces with his nemesis Gideon to stop an unknown entity who is using old magic to commit gruesome murders. And if that’s not keeping him busy enough, an investigator recruits Gage to help her track a killer … who might be targeting tattoo artists.
Available at Amazon

Demon's VowThe Asylum TalesBook 3.2Jocelynn Drake
Publisher: Harper Voyager ImpulseRelease Date: October 21, 2014ISBN 006235941XISBN13: 9780062359414
Bestselling author Jocelynn Drake continues her urban fantasy series with the second installment of the Final Asylum Tales, Demon’s Vow.
Book Description:
Tattoo artist and warlock Gage is having a rough week. He’s trying to track down a mysterious murderer in Low Town while also chasing a powerful entity using forbidden Death Magic across the nation.
When Gage discovers the two forces may be trying to unite, the stakes get even higher. With Gideon’s help, Gage is determined to stop the murderers before anyone else gets hurt – including his girlfriend, Trixie.
Available at Amazon

Inner DemonThe Asylum Tales3.3Jocelynn Drake  
Publisher: Harper Voyager ImpulseRelease Date: October 28, 2014ISBN 0062359428ISBN13: 9780062359421
Gage is a powerful warlock in Low Town, where elves, faeries, trolls, goblins, and vampires walk free among humanity. But there are two dangerous entities murdering families and children, and Gage needs to stop them before anybody else gets hurt.
When Gage discovers a demon locked away it offers him access to dark magic in exchange for its freedom – a dangerous opportunity, but one that could save his loved ones. Gage must choose between what is right and what is easy … except he’s running out of time.
Available at Amazon

About the Author:
By day, Jocelynn Drake is a clean-cut financial editor, picking apart stories about Wall Street and the global markets. But in her free time, she writes about a dark underworld where vampires and warlocks rule.
The author of Dark Days and Asylum Tales series, she lives in Florida with her husband, dog, and cat. When she's not working on her next book, she's usually hiding from the sun by playing video games.
http://www.jocelynndrake.com/
http://jocelynndrake.blogspot.com/
https://www.facebook.com/jocelynn.drake
https://twitter.com/JocelynnDrake

October 13 Guest blogFang-tastic Bookswww.fang-tasticbooks.blogspot.com
October 13 reviewtrips down imagination road http://a-reader-lives-a-thousand-lives.blogspot.co.uk
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October 15 Spotlight and reviews
Lissette E. Manning 
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October 22 InterviewDiane's Book Blog http://diane-book-blogspot.com
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October 27 reviewParanormal Romance and Authors That Rockwww.pratr.wordpress.com
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Cemetery Highway by Hamish Robert Johnson

Cemetery HighwayHamish Robert Johnson
Genre: YA Paranormal Romance
ISBN:1499520247ASIN: B00K7JUAA4
Number of pages: 187
Cover Artist: D. Thomas Magee
Book Description:
Cemetery Highway is a rollicking tale of fame, friendship and falls from grace, set in a world where zombies are the elite and humans are the underclass.
Best friends Dexter, Michelle, Penny and Cakes have started a group called the Anti Zombie Alliance and plan on sticking it to the zombies once and for all. But when zombie big-wig Max convinces the suave Dexter to trade his standards for stardom, things get ugly.
Available at Smashwords    Amazon    Kobo
Excerpt Michelle It is said that becoming a zombie is inevitable. Either we get attacked, or we sell out and take the Package, but sooner or later we all becomezombies. I, for one have never seen the advantageof aligning myself with a largegroup of any kind, certainlynot onehell bent on human cranialcarnage. Sure, they have all the power and wealth,but take a look at their lifestyle. Zombies work 100 hours a week, and yes they do make a lot of money, but what do they spend it on? A nice car that they only use to drive to work, and expensiveclothes to wear there. They have no time to enjoy themselves, or their all-important wealth. And they don’t even have love, becausea zombie can only have whom he loved in life. To find love after the change had always been considered impossible. Oh, and they eat peoples brains.I tell you, it can reallytest my faith in the world.Because of the current economy, more and more humans are taking the Package. This means they sell their humanityto the Zombie Corporation in exchangefor zombie wealth and servitude. As a human I’ve always found this to be terribly disappointing, but it is not without its advantages. Current ZombieCorporate standards have put a stopto anyunauthorized kills, which meansthat all kills must be ordered by the King. With the reducednumber of savage zombie predators out and about, the streetsare safer to walk than ever before, and I have long been an advocatefor human safety and self- defense.Which brings me to the start of the story.This is the night when everything changed.My friends and I had formed a group called the Anti-Zombie Alliance, and we were holding our first fundraising event at a cruddy bar in downtownIndustry. And I mean maximumcruddiness. There were tacky neon beer advertisements, sticky carpet and a musty smell that clings to you like a stray cat. And I’m told the men’s bathroom was just a trough of ice. Self-flushing maybe? Who knows, some questions a lady knows better thanto ask.I was sitting behind a desk with my best friend and Alliance co-founder, Penny Farthing, handing out brochuresand stickersthatproudly bore slogan, “Life, it’s always worth the wait.” We really believed in the cause we were fighting for, because the zombies have had it too good for too long. I didn’t realizeit as a kid, or maybe I did and just didn’t see the significance or implications, but they reallydo own and run EVERYTHING. And they don’t care about us humans at all, so we decided to stand up for ourselves. By we, I mean Penny, herex-boyfriend Dexter, Cakes, and me,my nameis MichelleFernside.Dexter was performing on stage as the evening’s musical entertainment. He did kind of a one-man show where he used programmed electronic music on his laptop and played electricguitar and sung over it. He was good, too, we alwayssaid that he would make it big if he could just get that all- importantbreak.Anyway, the guy has charisma, and bags of it. Every time he would spin or shake his hips, which was pretty frequently, all the girls in the crowd would swoon. Myself included. And he kept making eyes at me and smiling while singing his beautifullyrics. I made eyes right back at him, which made me feel excited and nervous. I was trying to be subtle because I didn’twant to upset Penny, but seriously, Dexter has always been my cup of tea. He had a perfectlytapered short Afro that he combed meticulously, and really took pride in his appearance. I alwaysadmired that. Even when he had no money at all, he would buy silk ties from the SalvationArmy for next to nothing and wear them in such a way that he would look like he had just taken the Package.But on this night he had no tie to speakof. Actually he was covered with no shirtat all, just sweat drippingover the tattooson his smooth brown chest. I felt guilty just for looking,but it was a good kind of guilt. Exciting, you know? LikeI was getting away with somethingnaughty.Speaking of naughty, I was surprisedto notice that Penny was drinking somethingother than a soda. “PennyFarthing, what are you drinking?”
“Wine,” she said matter-of-factly. She took another sip then smiled at me. “This is abar, Mishy.” Of course she was right. I had never been a drinker,but why should I look at my friend differently for doing whatone does in such an establishment?“Want a sip?” she asked me. “It is your 18th birthday,” she said teasingly. I smiled and nodded. She poured me a healthy glass of burgundyliquid and I took my first sip. It was not as acrid as I expected.Quite pleasant, actually. Fruity, in fact.“How manyof these have you had?”“What? Tonight?”Her giddylaugh indicated that she’s hada few. Itook a big swig and Penny topped off my glass. She splashed a bit on the white tablecloth, but it was still the cleanest thing in here.Penny turned to me and smiled. “I think he likes you.” I was a bit taken aback. “Really?” I said. “Dexter?” I immediately regretted saying his name, because I was well aware of their romantic history, andthe fact thatI knew she wasnot yetover him.“No, Cakes,” she said without missing a beat.It had been quite obvious to me for a while that Cakes was into me but I just didn’t feel that way about him. The funny thing is, if he had not been so obviously interested I’m sure I would have liked him more, but the fact that he made it so clear left no mystery for me. No place for my mind to wander, and this girl’s mind loves to wander.And also, I had never really been like that with guys before. I mean, I’d kissed a boy here and there, but it was all very innocent.In those situationsI always felt like a kid trying on adulthood and walkingaround the store to see how it felt, before returning to my natural state. The idea of officially being in a relationship with someone, of having an actual boyfriendmade me feel very self-conscious. I guess I was nervous about letting go of the final strands of my childhood.“Oh, really?Cakes? Does he now?” I said,averting my eyes from Dexter.“Because if you’re not into him,” Penny continued, “I could totally see he and I…” Cakes bumbled over andinterrupted.“I don’t know why he left our band for this,” he said. “This has no chance of going anywhere at all. Right?” He foldedhis arms, screwed up his nose and watchedDexter’s performance with scrutiny. “Not a chance.”“I don’t know, Cakes. The girls seem to like it,” Penny said.“Whatever. Who wantsto playfor a room full of girls anyway?”Cakes snorted. “Not you, apparently,” I quipped.Cakes’s real name is Patrick Baker. Dexter used to think it was hilarious to call him Patty Cakes Baker,and over time I guess the name Cakes just stuck. It could have been worse though, he could have been calledPatty. Anyway, Cakes was quite good looking, actually. Not handsome per se, but definitelygood looking enough to be one of the “other guys” in a boy band. I always joked that he looked like he’d just fallen out of a cheap fashion catalogue, wet brown floppy hair and all. Why some guys have perpetually wet hair, I’ll never know.“Wait.” Penny turned to me. “Why did you think I meant Dexter?” I froze, clamped myhands together and looked downat myblack kitten heels. “Oh, no reason.”
About the Author:
I grew up in Melbourne Australia and was fortunate enough to have a relatively unexciting childhood. After high school I attended film school at Deakin University, and while making the requisite pretentious art projects I discovered I had a knack for writing dialogue. In short, I wanted to be the next Quentin Tarantino.
After film school I put my passion asside and began an hilarious and relatively short lived culinary career. Quickly rising up the ranks, I found myself cooking in some of Australia’s finest restaurants and finishing a 3 year apprenticeship in 18 months. It was in these hellish kitchens that I rediscovered my love for quirky, dirty, flirty characters, which again stoked my desire for writing and the arts.
Upon hearing The Strokes for the first time, and with absolutely no preparation whatsoever I moved to New York City in 2003. I was once more surrounded by a bevy of interesting folks, inundating me with stories of hardship, romance and hope. How one cannot find inspiration in this city was beyond me. What was also beyond me was the ability to generate an income, so I hopped on the Greyhound with the little money I had left and got as far away as I could.
Austin Texas was my next port of call. Upon arriving I had a mere $40 to my name, but coupled with the attitude of a fearless traveler I was invincible. I quickly finagled a job, a room in a Revenge of the Nerds style college housing situation and the prominent position as lead guitarist in The Handsome Charlies.
I wouldn’t say I was a great guitarist, but I certainly knew how to act like one, and as we were sharing bills with The Black Angels and Ghostland Observatory I could be excused for thinking that I too would make it. But after a particularly ghastly SXSW performance I found myself standing in the parking lot listening to The Strokes perform “Is this it?” across the road. “No it is not”, I answered, and declared that I would return to writing and not continue to get distracted by flashier pursuits.
I commenced writing screenplays, pilots and web series like a madman and have not slowed down since. I now have multiple screenplays in various stages of development, and have completed my first novel. And I am here to stay!

Connect with the Author at Smashwords   Wattpad  Twitter


September 29 InterviewThe Creatively Green Write at Home Momwww.creativelygreen.blogspot.com
September 29 SpotlightBooks Directhttp://booksdirectonline.blogspot.com.au/
September 30 InterviewPembroke Sinclair.  www.pembrokesinclair.blogspot.com
October 1 SpotlightBook Purses & Reviewswww.bookpurses.blogspot.com
October 2 SpotlightSizzling Book Blog   http://chelssizzle.blogspot.com/
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Interview and Giveaway: Words That Bind by Ash Krafton

Can you tell readers a little bit about yourself and what inspired you to write in this particular genre? 
My name is Ash Krafton, and I’m proud to call myself a speculative fiction writer. Speculative fiction covers a whole range of wonderful ideas—fantasy, science fiction, horror, and every single shade in between. Speculative fiction begins with a question: What if…? I have loads of fun finding new ways to answer that question. I’ve wanted to write romance for a very long time. This is my first romance novel—paranormal, of course. Wouldn’t do having everyone in the book being human.
What is it about the paranormal, in particular vampires, that fascinates you so much? 
I love the endless possibilities that the paranormal realm offers us as readers and writers. It’s true my first and best love will always be vampires (and my own demivamps) but, with so many amazing stories out there, I can’t help but developed an appreciation for the other intriguing species of beasties out there.
What inspired you to write this book? 
The inspiration came while I was writing another book. My best cure for writer’s block is to flip to a fresh page and write something else. My sister-in-law is one of my most cherished beta readers; she’s also a licensed clinical social worker. I wrote the scene in which a genie walks into a therapists’s office as a sort of present for her.
Although it started as a way to “blow out the carbon” and clean my brain’s carburetor, my sister-in-law had other plans.
Please tell us about your latest release. 
In my paranormal romance WORDS THAT BIND, a social worker breaks the cardinal rule: never fall for your client. Especially when your client is an immortal djinn and you are the talisman to which he is bound.
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 put a lot of stock in character’s names—a name is another layer to tailor when creating our characters. In WORDS THAT BIND, Tam Kerish’s name was selected for the rhythm and feel more than a particular meaning. Her full name, Tamarinda, however, has a different feel to it—even a taste, as the hero might say. Tamarind fruit is both sweet and sour—complexity in its simplicity—and the tree flowers “inconspicuously”. I think it rather suited Tam, who begins the story as a closed and reserved woman.
The hero, Burns, is a fire elemental (a djinn, actually) who has chosen his own name. It describes him from head to toe, inside and out, from the flame that sometimes erupts along his skin to the force of his firestorm emotional outbursts. He’s cheeky, that one. 
Was one of your characters more challenging to write than another? 
By far, Tam was the toughest character I’ve ever written, because of her spell-bound condition that prevents her from experiencing true emotion. Considering my last project was a trilogy featuring an empathy, and this book is a romance novel, trying to write a possibly non-emotional heroine was a challenge, indeed. Thank goodness that Burns has a thawing effect on her.
What is your favorite scene from the book? Could you share a little bit of it, without spoilers of course? 
My favorite scene is one in which Burns apologizes to Tam—it took so much for him to humble himself to do so, and it revealed his tender, vulnerable side.
Did you find anything really interesting while researching this or another book? 
Absolutely. As the heroine is a social worker, it was very important to research her role, as well as the code of ethics to which she is bound. In fact, in studying the ethical code and all its provisions, I had to rewrite the plot because I didn’t want to dishonor the profession. Tension  and conflict are good things for a book, though, and I think the story is much better for the research and the hard work it brought.
Do you ever suffer from writer’s block? How do you deal with it? 
I do get writer’s block—and I just write on through it. As I mentioned earlier, writing something completely different. Sometimes, those exercises take on life of their own.
Do you write in different genres? 
While WORDS THAT BIND is a paranormal romance, I’ve also published an urban fantasy trilogy as well as several speculative fiction short stories. I’m no stranger to poetry, either, and usually prefer dark fantasy and other speculative kinds of verses.
Would you like to leave readers with a little teaser or excerpt from the book? 
Sure!
“So. You’ve destroyed a stereotype for me. A genie who lives in a library. Different.”
“When in Rome, no?” He stirred his cup before setting down the spoon with a light clink against the saucer. “Or, I suppose it is more accurate to say when in human form. When I am Burns, I prefer here.”
“Human form.” It didn’t sound right. Who said things like that, and meant it? “Can you change into anything you want? Any shape at all?”
He stretched out his legs and cocked his head, sliding his gaze up and away. “I suppose I could. I’m getting old and set in my ways. There’s this…” He swept his hands down the line of his body.
Her eyes were unable to keep from following, not even when he lingered over his midsection. Even lounging, his shirt was tightly tucked into his beltline. No belly fat there.
He tilted his head and gave her an upper-teeth smile, nibbling gently at his lower lip. “And apparently this form is pleasing to the eye, so I wear it often. But there are others. Tiger, a favorite. Savage and regal and the colors of flames in the night. Fearsome to behold, but very useful when dealing with physical conditions in which a human form may be outmatched. Plus, I can lash my tail.”
His voice took a teasing, conspirator’s tone. “I love my tail. You’d love it too, if you saw it.”
She trained her eyes firmly upon his. No way would she give him the pleasure of checking out his tail.



Words That BindAsh Krafton
Genre: paranormal romance
Publisher: The Wild Rose Press
Date of Publication: Oct. 10, 2014
ISBN: 978-1-62830-560-9ISBN: 978-1-62830-561-6
Number of pages: 314Word Count: 75000

Cover Artist: Debbie Taylor
Book Description:
Social worker Tam Kerish can’t keep her cool professionalism when steamy client Mr. Burns kindles a desire for more than a client-therapist relationship—so she drops him. However, they discover she’s the talisman to which Burns, an immortal djinn, has been bound since the days of King Solomon…and that makes it difficult.
Ethical guidelines are unequivocal when it comes to personal relationships with clients. However, the djinn has a thawing effect on the usually non-emotive Tam, who begins to feel true emotion whenever he is near. Tam has to make a difficult choice: to stay on the outside, forever looking in…or to turn her back on her entire world, just for the chance to finally experience what it means to fall in love.


Available at Amazon and Wild Rose Publishing
Excerpt Chapter One
Damn, but this was a miserable city.A miserable city, in a miserable season, with a miserable chilly dampness oppressive enough to put out the hottest of fires. If he didn’t have to be here, he’d be reclining on a low couch surrounded by silken-clad women and the open sands of the high desert. If he didn’t have to be here, he wouldn’t be standing in a cramped parking lot in an East Coast city (really. East Coast. The very thought made him curl his lips in disdain) staring up at a balcony three floors up.If he didn’t have to be here, he wouldn’t. But it was here, and it was close, and he wouldn’t have to put up with this permeating on-again off-again rain much longer.The thought of it being so close made him dizzy enough to sway on his feet. Ah, well. Wearing a human form had so many limitations. Take skin, for instance. And this ridiculous human obsession with trousers.A loud argument erupted on the balcony above, catching his attention.Women. Of course. Emotional, volatile, dangerous, loud…sometimes, good qualities. Especially where low couches could be found.On balconies, peppered with vulgar language…just annoying.Still. It was here, its presence burning like a dull itch in the back of his brain. That particular sensation, too, was annoying, but after so many decades of not feeling it all, it was a good kind of annoying. One that soon would be quenched. Forever.Suddenly, the sensation brightened, became sharper, clearer, like the full moon sliding free of the clouds. The argument stopped. Ah. Finally. He turned up the collar of his overcoat against the nip of a sudden breeze and tilted his head, scanning the balcony, watching. Waiting.A young female with tousled purple hair hunched over the railing, resting on her elbows, trying to light a cigarette. Repulsive things, cigarettes. Lacked elegance. Why not a hookah, or even a slender golden pipe? This modern age was all substance. No style. He unfocused his gaze and looked through the girl. Nothing remarkable about that female whatsoever. She had nothing to do with the object of his desire and so was of no consequence to him. He disregarded her completely.Another figure appeared at the rail. Another female. This one seized his notice, snapping his spine ram-rod straight.Long chestnut hair swept in waves over her shoulder, hiding her face. He zoomed in on her and almost fell flat backwards, buckling under the smacking impact upon his heart.Her. She had it. Suddenly, the low gray clouds burned off in a blaze of summer brilliance, so great was the feeling in his chest. Hope. Hope eclipsed centuries of despair in that single moment.She had it!He side-stepped the BMW behind him, wanting a better angle, wishing to see her face. So intent was he upon the other woman that he nearly missed the cigarette that sailed past his cheek to land on the car. He curled his fists, an oath on his lips. He should be used to the crude behaviors of mortals, but still, how it bristled against his insides. Obviously, they’d been raised by very different mothers.But then woman turned, and his scowl melted from his face. Her dark eyes met his, a split-second connection that felt like the bite of an electric current. His heart tripped on a beat and he gaped. Remarkable. This noisy, chaotic city where all was a tangle of technology and confusion and those odd diagonal streets—she stood out: a straight line, a calm constancy, the eye within the storm. He was confounded by the impression of her psyche. Unique was too commonplace a word.A place to sit. He rubbed his mouth, staring up at her. To sit would be good right now. He didn’t want to end up on his knees, not here amidst the puddles and wet leaves. The young girl twisted around and hopped up on the rail. Odd. The railing didn’t look wide enough to make a comfortable seat. Well. Considering her choice of hair color, he wasn’t surprised by her action. Obviously, she was a little off. He thumbed the edge of the business card in his hand, one that bore the address and the name of the counselling center to which the balcony belonged. Of course, she was. Why else would she be visiting a therapist?Apparently, the bird reconsidered her perch, because she disappeared in the next moment. A piercing shriek sounded, loud enough that he had to cover his ears. It only lasted a few seconds, however, followed by a few more desperate shouts.And then there came no sound at all, except for the traffic and the sparrows making a racket in the hedges bordering the parking lot. The women and the mental itch had retreated back into the building.He stood a few moments longer, watching the balcony, hoping for another glimpse of her. But the remarkable woman and that wonderful sensation did not return.He brushed his fingers together and tugged his suit jacket straight. No matter. She may have that which he sought, but she did not need to come back out.Because he was going in after it.And this time, he was going to get it.

About the Author:
Ash Krafton is a speculative fiction author from northeastern Pennsylvania. Krafton’s first novel, Bleeding Hearts was published in 2012 as part of a three-book urban fantasy series The Books of the Demimonde (Pink Narcissus Press).
An urban fantasy novella, Strangers at the Hell Gate, was published by Wild Rose Press in 2013. Her latest project, Words That Bind, won first place in the HeRA RWA “Show Me the Spark” 2013 competition; it is also available through Wild Rose Press as an October 2014 release.
Krafton also writes New Adult speculative fiction novels under the pen name AJ Krafton. Upcoming titles include The Heartbeat Thief, Face of the Enemy, and the award-winning Takin’ It Back. She is part of a YA/NA collective known as the Infinite Ink Authors.
In addition to novel-length fiction, Krafton enjoys writing poetry and short prose, some of which earned distinctions in various writing competitions. One of her poems was also nominated for the Pushcart Prize. She’s a proud member of Pennwriters, Romance Writers of America, and Pikes Peak Writers. Krafton is also a staff blogger for the Query Tracker Blog.
Website Blog Twitter Facebook Goodreads Authorgraph Pinterest



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Guest blog and Giveaway-Nico: The Rogue Warrior by Michelle C. Reilly

I’ve been asked to write this blog by the woman who created me, Michelle C. Reilly.
I suppose I have to start with introducing myself. My name is Nico Finnegan. Actually, my real first name is Nicobar, but you won’t like my reaction if you call me that. I was born in Ireland nearly two hundred years ago. I’m an Anathergian warrior and I’m immortal. You can get to know me a lot better in the novella about me, Nico: The Rogue Warrior. I am a warrior, as I said. And, I suppose, I’m a bit of a rogue as well.
As far as the subject matter for this blog post… Well, I chose cake. Why cake, you ask? Well, read on, and you’ll find out.
I like cake just about as much as I like females. Cake comes in all sizes, colors, and flavors. The more choices, the better.
As for the ingredients, the first thing I look for is sugar. My cake has to be nice and sweet. The type of sugar I want all depends on my mood. I may like it a bit raw if I’m feeling a little rough. Maybe I’ll take a bit of brown sugar if I want it extra sweet. The better to lick off my fingers. Or I may just take it plain old vanilla and sprinkle it all over the place. Once in a while, I may even throw in some honey to make it extra sticky.
To make things lushly smooth and greasy, I give you butter. There are many kinds of butter I use with my cake, but there are a few I like more than others. Take, for instance, European butter. It has a lot of extra fat. No so good for you, but don’t worry, a bit of exercise will work it off, and I can provide that for you. In spades. This butter makes things extra tender and fluffy. It also adds a bit of tang. I lap it up anywhere I can find it.
Next come the eggs. What’s this? Eggs? Well, I can think of a few useful things for eggs, but when I’m enjoying these particular cakes, I tend to look for a few other more… erm… sweet replacements. For example, applesauce. It’s the ultimate sweetness with a bit of a tangy bite to it. Exactly what the doctor ordered.
Sometimes I’ll use yogurt instead of eggs. If I’m really ambitious, I’ll use a yogurt with some fruit thrown in. Something tart and juicy.
Ah, then there’s the vanilla extract. I’m licking my lips as I think about it.
To keep things interesting, there’s a bit of flour. The fun part about flour? The cleanup. Same goes for baking powder.
Then some cool milk. We’ll need a little extra to quench our thirst from all the hard work we’ve been doing.
It’s now time to mix it all together and add some heat. Any ideas on how we can go about this?
After we’ve baked our cake into our most tantalizing mold, we want to add the frosting. Using our favorite tool, we’re going to spread it about the skin, adding colorful additions to our most desired areas. If you add too much, just use a finger (or your tongue) to remove it and smooth it down. Heaven!
Once you have the finished product, it’s time to eat! Utensils are optional.
Bon appétit!

Nico: The Rogue WarriorThe AnathergiansMichelle C. Reilly
Genre: SciFi/Paranormal Mystery
Date of Publication: October 7, 2014
ISBN: ASIN: B00NUR3Y9Y
Number of pages:  60Word Count: 24k
Cover Artist: Michelle C. Reilly
Book Description:
She’s exactly what he needs at exactly the right time.
Juliana has worked hard to get where she’s at. Even though she’s the daughter of the top casino tycoon in Vegas, the road hasn’t been easy. She’s finally getting where she wants to be with her career, when she’s abducted.
Nico, a powerful and immortal Anathergian warrior, likes to have fun. Especially with weapons and women. Preferably not at the same time. Life for him, and the rest of the Anathergians, has taken a recent turn for the worse. So, Nico is relieved when he gets assigned the case to find Juliana.
All Anathergians have sworn to protect humans, and he’ll do just about anything to save this one. But, he’s in for a bit of a surprise when he finally gets close to this particular human.
Available at AmazonExcerpt:
“Someone’s in the drive,” Gunner’s low voice filtered to him from downstairs.“Shit,” Nico whispered under his breath as he closed the closet door.He double timed it down the stairs and peeked out the front window. Larissa closed the passenger door to a sedan.“What are we gonna do?” Gunner asked.Nico thought fast. He pulled the beanie from his head and shook his long hair free.“Whiskey Tango Foxtrot, dude?” Gunner said.“Take these,” he tossed the beanie and then the diary to Gunner.Gunner peered down at the items with a blank look on his face. “What the hell am I supposed to do with these?”“Hide.”One of Gunner’s dark eyebrows raised.“Just go along with me, okay?”The man shook his head and headed to the back of the house.Nico straightened his shirt and dashed to the cushioned seat facing the front door. As he sat down, Larissa opened the front door and switched on the light to see Nico sitting there with an alluring look on his face. She jumped and screamed, bringing her hands to her face.“It’s about time you got here,” Nico said, as if he knew she had been on her way.“What in God’s name are you doing in my home?” she screeched, her face turning red.“I was waiting for you,” he said as he stood and strolled over to her. “Just kind of hoping we could finish what we started earlier today.”The woman’s blue gaze became dreamy.“Is everything all right here?” the man from the car stood on the porch.“Hey, you must be Officer…” Nico said, extending his hand.“Forge,” he answered, surveying both of them.“That’s right, Officer Forge,” Nico laughed. “I’m Nico, the consultant in charge of this case. I can get her back to Mr. and Mrs. Bertram’s when she’s done here.”The man regarded Larissa. “I’m fine,” she said.The officer nodded and returned to his car. Nico watched the vehicle back out of the driveway and make its way down the street, and then shut the door.He swiveled back to Larissa, reaching for her waist. “Now, where were we before we were so rudely interrupted?”Larissa’s red polished fingers rose to his wide shoulders. “I think we were right here.” Her lips came up hard against his. Past her shoulder, he saw Gunner peek around the corner. Nico raised his eyebrows and Gunner rolled his eyes and disappeared again.Nico broke free and, with a sly smile, took her hand and led her upstairs.They made it to the landing, and she spun him around and started unbuttoning his shirt.  He walked backward to the double doors leading to the master bedroom.“I have wanted to taste you—all of you—from the first moment I laid eyes on you,” she said, her voice breathless.“Do I taste as good as you imagined?” They made their way through the doorway. He spotted Gunner spying around the top of the stairs.“I don’t know yet. I think I need to take more samples.”“Have at it,” he said with a laugh.She pushed him backward onto the bed.“Whoa,” he said. “Hold on, wildcat.”Larissa straddled him and growled like a cat and then hissed. Nico kept his smile pasted on his face.Okaaayy.On the other side of the open doorway, Gunner’s shoulders shook and he doubled over with laughter.Asshole.Nico moved his hands to her waist and started undoing her belt.Larissa bent over and ravished his mouth, invading him.  She moved to his ear where her tongue slathered him. He stopped a repulsive shudder from racking his body.When his palms found her ass to bring her jeans down, he nearly sagged in relief, finally finding what he’d been searching for. He slipped her cell phone free from her back pocket. Then she sat back onto his thighs and pulled her t-shirt over her head, undid her bra clasp, and threw them both to the floor. Her breasts bounced free, and she put her hands on them and lifted them up.“Do you like?” she asked with a coy smile.Nico pushed the cell under his thigh. “Beautiful, darling.”She leaned over him so her breast hung above his face. He wrapped his left arm around her waist, yanked her closer, and took a pink nipple in his mouth. She moaned and breathed out dirty words.Nico used his right hand to pull the phone free and waved it in the air at Gunner. He searched for the man from beneath Larissa’s armpit. Gunner finally appeared in his line of vision. He bent sideways with his hand on his chin. The man nodded, his eyebrows raised, as if what he viewed wasn’t a half-bad performance.Nico, with the cell still in his outstretched hand, lifted his middle finger at him. Gunner opened his mouth in mock shock, placed a hand on his waist, and wagged his index finger at him with the other hand.I’m going to fucking kill him.Nico flicked the phone at him and Gunner caught it. With a two finger salute, he about-faced and left the room.

About the Author:
Michelle C. Reilly is a single mom of two wonderful boys. She spent ten years in the U.S. Navy as a Hospital Corpsman Preventive Medicine Technician, which meant she was actually attached to or stationed with the U.S. Marine Corps. She has a Masters in Science in Public Health, but she is generally an IT geek and a geek of many other things as well. She currently resides in Las Vegas, NV, with her two cats, Meowdy and Moose, and her dog, Katie aka “The Old Lady.”
Make sure to visit her website www.michellecreilly.com  for more information about her and her upcoming books.
Feel free to visit, ask her questions, and hang out with her on Facebook at www.facebook.com/michellecorareilly
And if you’re a tweet-a-holic (or even if you’re not), follow her on Twitter at www.twitter.com/MichelleCReilly
Goodreads: www.goodreads.com/michellecreilly
Pinterest: www.pinterest.com/michellecreilly
YouTube: www.youtube.com/michellecreilly
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Release Day Blitz Remembered By Moonlight By Nancy Gideon

Welcome Home! By Nancy Gideon
Publishing a book is like sending your child off to college. You visit with them, but it never truly feels like they’re a part of your daily life again. They’re no longer in your control, under your wing. They’re out there making new friends, new contacts, and you’re still sitting at your desk, staring at the same keyboard, missing them. Unless your book is part of a series.
Writing a series, especially when it takes place within the same world, with continuing characters, is like never having to say good-bye. Every time you begin the next installment, it’s like moving back home.  Everything’s right where you left it. All the faces are familiar.  There’s some catching up to do, but for the most part, it’s like you were never gone. Group hug!
When you create a world for a series, it has to be someplace a reader can become familiar with, comfortable in, and be able to settle into the minute they open that next book. It has to be someplace they want to return to with anticipation, to greet old friends and meet new ones. They want to find out what everyone’s been doing, the latest gossip, and then they want to know what’s new.  What’s new—and familiar—is REMEMBERED BY MOONLIGHT.  
Though all books in the “By Moonlight” series exist in the same ever-evolving world with a continuing main story arc, there are two different neighborhoods. The first four “Moonlight” books follow the complicated courtship of Max Savoie, former mob enforcer and enigmatic leader of a shape-shifter clan, and Charlotte Caissie, a tough-as-nails NOPD detective torn between his world and her own.  The next four “Shadows” books embrace different heroes and heroines, but they all visit each other’s books frequently. Still, though they enjoyed visiting the “Shadows”, readers have wanted me to take them back to the “Moonlight” neighborhood to give Max and Cee Cee the happy ending they deserved.  REMEMBERED BY MOONLIGHT is that book.  Welcome home!

New readers to the “By Moonlight” series, this book is for you, as well. As Max fights to recover his lost memories, the reader will be right beside him, learning about his forgotten world and those in it.  But be warned:  You won’t want to stay away. 
Remembered By MoonlightBy MoonlightBook 9By Nancy Gideon
Release Date: October 13, 2014
Genre: PNR
Book Description:
Because the road to . . .
Clever, cool and preternaturally lethal, Max Savoie is leader of a secretive shape-shifter clan, heir to a mobster’s legacy, and the love of New Orleans’  top cop . . . but he can’t remember any of them.  The only way to recover his past, and his rightful place in the arms of the woman who risked all to save him, is to surrender to a mysterious visitor who could use him as a weapon against all he’d loved.
Happily-Ever-After . . .
After rescuing her mate from his ruthless captors in the North, hard-hitting Detective Charlotte Caissie is now painfully vulnerable—a stranger in his eyes . . . and in his bed.  The key to his memories is locked in a tortuous past.  To reclaim the strength of their passionate bond, Max must learn to trust her enough to face that darkness at her side before the threat it hides exposes the secret Cee Cee carries.
Is never smooth.
When an investigation into grisly deaths in an underground Shifter fight club points to more than just dangerous clan rivalries, Cee Cee enlists Max’s help to find a traitor in their midst while there’s still time to turn a deadly invading tide. But the cost of saving their treasured future may mean sacrificing his past. Especially when the enemy they pursue  . . . might be Max, himself.

Available at AmazonExcerpt:
All the fear and tension of the past hours rattled through her. Cee Cee hugged her arms about herself to still the shivering. The events emphasized her fragile hold on those she cared about. For all her best and bravest intentions, she couldn’t protect them, especially within the often-lethal uncertainty of their preternatural sphere. One she was now a part of by choice and by recently-discovered heredity.Still, she wasn’t doing Max any favors by keeping him isolated in emotional bubble wrap. If he was going to recover any sense of normalcy, he needed to get out into the world and out of her panicked grip. Almost losing her partner made that all the more painful to accept. To be alone again.  To not share her life, her thoughts, her heart with another . . . What did she have to lose? She had none of that now in her despondent dream that all could go back as it was.Her system gave a jolt when she realized Max had come up behind her to make amends.“You weren’t being foolish.”The rumble of his deep voice caressed over her nerve endings, quieting them like a balm. “Yes, I was. If you and Giles hadn’t been so close by, MacCreedy would be dead, and I wouldn’t have been able to live with that. I should be thanking you, not treating you like a runaway child who broke curfew. I’m sorry.”His hand settled on her shoulder, and the weight and warmth of it had her dying inside. “Don’t apologize. I know how hard this is for you. I appreciate all you’ve done for me.”Past tense. A bittersweet twist shaped her mouth. “All I’ve done has been for me, not you. I haven’t given you much consideration at all. I’m selfish that way.”His palm rubbed over the cap of her shoulder, fingers gently kneading. Leaving her needing as he objected quietly, “There’s not a selfish bone in your body, cher.”A laugh. “How would you know? You’re hardly an expert on what I am or I’m not.”“I’m a fast learner.”She wasn’t sure if he stepped forward or she leaned back.  Their bodies bumped, and the shock of it undid her. Cee Cee turned right into his arms. Hers circled him in a frantic clutch. Cheek pressed to the hard wall of his chest with only a thin weave of white linen between them, she squeezed her eyes shut and simply breathed him in. Love, longing, desire all quivered through her, a bouquet so potent he couldn’t be unaware of it. This was where she belonged, where everything made sense.And then she realized he no longer held her, that his arms had dropped to his sides, as his breath suspended. She knew if she looked up, she’d see that horribly familiar blankness in his eyes, that stiff distance in his expression, and suddenly that hurt worse than the thought of his absence.She pushed away with a crisp, “I’m sorry. I’m breaking the rules. I forgot we were strangers.” She turned to her dresser to snatch up those things that defined her: shield, cell, holster and gun. “Consider yourself off the leash, Savoie. You’re capable of handling your own affairs. I’ll stick to mine. If you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a report to file.”
He didn’t move to stop her.
About the Author:
Nancy Gideon is the award winning author of over 55 romances ranging from historical, regency and series contemporary suspense to paranormal, with a couple of horror screenplays tossed into the mix. 
She works full time as a legal assistant in Southwestern Michigan, and when not at the keyboard, feeds a Netflix addiction along with all things fur, fin and fowl.
She’s also written under the pen names Dana Ransom, Rosalyn West and Lauren Giddings.
Website              Blog                Facebook
Twitter               Pinterest           Goodreads
Goodreads “Nancy Gideon by Moonlight” group        
Amazon

Release Day Blitz Remembered By Moonlight By Nancy Gideon

Remembered By MoonlightBy MoonlightBook 9By Nancy Gideon
Release Date: October 13, 2014
Genre: PNR
Book Description:
Because the road to . . .
Clever, cool and preternaturally lethal, Max Savoie is leader of a secretive shape-shifter clan, heir to a mobster’s legacy, and the love of New Orleans’  top cop . . . but he can’t remember any of them.  The only way to recover his past, and his rightful place in the arms of the woman who risked all to save him, is to surrender to a mysterious visitor who could use him as a weapon against all he’d loved.
Happily-Ever-After . . .
After rescuing her mate from his ruthless captors in the North, hard-hitting Detective Charlotte Caissie is now painfully vulnerable—a stranger in his eyes . . . and in his bed.  The key to his memories is locked in a tortuous past.  To reclaim the strength of their passionate bond, Max must learn to trust her enough to face that darkness at her side before the threat it hides exposes the secret Cee Cee carries.
Is never smooth.
When an investigation into grisly deaths in an underground Shifter fight club points to more than just dangerous clan rivalries, Cee Cee enlists Max’s help to find a traitor in their midst while there’s still time to turn a deadly invading tide. But the cost of saving their treasured future may mean sacrificing his past. Especially when the enemy they pursue  . . . might be Max, himself.

Excerpt:
All the fear and tension of the past hours rattled through her. Cee Cee hugged her arms about herself to still the shivering. The events emphasized her fragile hold on those she cared about. For all her best and bravest intentions, she couldn’t protect them, especially within the often-lethal uncertainty of their preternatural sphere. One she was now a part of by choice and by recently-discovered heredity.Still, she wasn’t doing Max any favors by keeping him isolated in emotional bubble wrap. If he was going to recover any sense of normalcy, he needed to get out into the world and out of her panicked grip. Almost losing her partner made that all the more painful to accept. To be alone again.  To not share her life, her thoughts, her heart with another . . .What did she have to lose? She had none of that now in her despondent dream that all could go back as it was.Her system gave a jolt when she realized Max had come up behind her to make amends.“You weren’t being foolish.”The rumble of his deep voice caressed over her nerve endings, quieting them like a balm. “Yes, I was. If you and Giles hadn’t been so close by, MacCreedy would be dead, and I wouldn’t have been able to live with that. I should be thanking you, not treating you like a runaway child who broke curfew. I’m sorry.”His hand settled on her shoulder, and the weight and warmth of it had her dying inside. “Don’t apologize. I know how hard this is for you. I appreciate all you’ve done for me.”Past tense. A bittersweet twist shaped her mouth. “All I’ve done has been for me, not you. I haven’t given you much consideration at all. I’m selfish that way.”His palm rubbed over the cap of her shoulder, fingers gently kneading. Leaving her needing as he objected quietly, “There’s not a selfish bone in your body, cher.”A laugh. “How would you know? You’re hardly an expert on what I am or I’m not.”“I’m a fast learner.”She wasn’t sure if he stepped forward or she leaned back.  Their bodies bumped, and the shock of it undid her.Cee Cee turned right into his arms. Hers circled him in a frantic clutch. Cheek pressed to the hard wall of his chest with only a thin weave of white linen between them, she squeezed her eyes shut and simply breathed him in. Love, longing, desire all quivered through her, a bouquet so potent he couldn’t be unaware of it. This was where she belonged, where everything made sense.And then she realized he no longer held her, that his arms had dropped to his sides, as his breath suspended. She knew if she looked up, she’d see that horribly familiar blankness in his eyes, that stiff distance in his expression, and suddenly that hurt worse than the thought of his absence.She pushed away with a crisp, “I’m sorry. I’m breaking the rules. I forgot we were strangers.” She turned to her dresser to snatch up those things that defined her: shield, cell, holster and gun. “Consider yourself off the leash, Savoie. You’re capable of handling your own affairs. I’ll stick to mine. If you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a report to file.”He didn’t move to stop her.




About the Author:
Nancy Gideon is the award winning author of over 55 romances ranging from historical, regency and series contemporary suspense to paranormal, with a couple of horror screenplays tossed into the mix. 
She works full time as a legal assistant in Southwestern Michigan, and when not at the keyboard, feeds a Netflix addiction along with all things fur, fin and fowl.
She’s also written under the pen names Dana Ransom, Rosalyn West and Lauren Giddings.
Website              Blog                Facebook
Twitter               Pinterest           Goodreads
Goodreads “Nancy Gideon by Moonlight” group        
Amazon

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Spotlight on The Hot Lunch Series Omnibus by ER Pierce

The Hot Lunch Series OmnibusER Pierce
Genre: Erotic Romance
Publisher: Fused PublishingASIN:  
Word Count: 36KCover Artist: ER Pierce
The Hot Lunch Series
Eating Out
Samantha Baker isn't interested in being another notch on Ryan Fellows bedpost, but she can't deny he's got style, charisma, and prowess. When he invites her to have lunch out of the blue, she finds she can't ignore the way his eyes caress her, nor the way he seems to know exactly what she needs...
Contains references to light BDSM in the form of a spanking, and Samantha must call Ryan "Sir."
Hot or Cold
Ryan and Samantha are back, and steamier than ever...
Samantha Baker spies a present waiting on her desk when she arrives at work one morning, and her heart skips a beat as she realizes it's from Ryan. What sexual escapes does he have in store for her this time?
Can Ryan give up his rigid restraint and schedules in favor of impulse and passion?
Will Samantha be the one to make him lose control?

Table for Two
The third installment of the Hot Lunch Saga is here! Will Ryan and Samantha work out their differences, come together and find love? Or will their pasts tear them apart? The erotic romance continues...
Ryan and Samantha met at work and started a lunch time affair in Eating Out that quickly morphed into a sexy relationship in Hot or Cold. Now in Table for Two, they must decide if their past baggage is worth the risk, or whether they should go their separate ways.
After the events in Hot or Cold, Samantha finds herself alone, confused, and pissed off. Ryan is nowhere to be found, and she goes to great lengths in Table for Two to track him down and make him see reason.
Room 306
Philip Tanner has one rule: Don't mix work with pleasure.
His strict no dating at the workplace policy has always served him well, that is, until recently when a sultry brunette started haunting his every fantasy in the form of family attorney: Katie Riley.
Katie Riley has a secret crush.
Her best friend Samantha knows she's infatuated with a certain prosecutor, but she's held back her passion out of respect for her friends new relationship. However, she can't help craving the one thing she told herself not to want: Philip Tanner.
Now she's tired of ignoring her carnal desires and she's about to present him with a case he won't be able to refute.
Room 69
Philip Tanner broke his only rule and mixed business with pleasure, in the delectable form of Katie Riley, and now he has a choice to make. Should he date and woo her, or try to flush her from his system for good?
Katie Riley isn't sure she wants more than a one night stand with the sexy prosecuting District Attorney, Philip Tanner. She's afraid he may be the one man with the power to break her heart.
Will she put her case on the line in order to stake her claim?
About the Author:
I live in New England with my husband, four children, one cat, and a billion chickens. I'm addicted to dark chocolate and smoothies – even in the winter. I’ve recently turned away from coffee in favor of tea. You can find me at my website, on Facebook, and tweeting randomness on Twitter.
If you'd like to keep up to date on my releases, news, giveaways, and ARC opportunities, sign up for my newsletter by clicking this link.
Or, locate me on the web:
http://www.erpierce.com
http://www.facebook.com/authorerpierce
http://www.twitter.com/E_R_Pierce

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