Roxanne Rhoads's Blog, page 438

May Issue of Bewitching Book Tours Magazine

Read or download the latest issue free at http://issuu.com/bewitchingbooktours/docs/magazine__23
The May Issue of Bewitching Book Tours Magazine is 
filled with new books you are sure to love.
Get a sneak peak at Paranormal Pleasures II: Ten More Tales of Supernatural Seduction by Roxanne Rhoads which will be released later this month. The feature includes an excerpt from  Immortal Flame- story two in Paranormal Pleasures II, an early review by Kay Dee Royal, and an interview with cover model Victoria NightShade.
Read author interviews with: Chris M. Arnone and an excerpt from his book, The Lost and Broken Realm;  Luke Ahearn and an excerpt from his book Euphoria Z; and Terri Bruce Fan Page with an excerpt from her latest, Thereafter.
Be sure to read this month’s Stitch Witch Creations by Sophie Avett Guest Starring Suzanne Johnson’s Drusilla “DJ” Jaco from the Sentinels of New Orleans Series
Check out the exclusive excerpt of Gemini Rising Ethereal Fury by Jessica OGorek. Other excerpts include Angel Kin by Tricia Skinner; Witch’s Bounty by Ann Gimpel, Author; White Heart of Justice by Jill Archer; The Boss by Abigail Barnette; and Breaking the Bond by  Patricia A. Proctor, Author
Articles this month include: Things Beginning Writers Should Know with Adrienne Woods and Exploring Pin Up Contests with Ginger Kewl .
Make sure you flip through to the very end so you don’t miss Steven Jon Horner Photography’s gorgeous photo spread.

Also available on ScribdMay 2014 Bewitching Book Tours Magazine by Roxanne Rhoads

Guest Blog: To Touch the Sun by Laura L. Enright

It’s the funniest thing. I’ve fallen in love with the novels of my Sentient/Feral Vampire Series.
And yet I started out with no real desire to write a vampire novel.
I enjoyed reading vampire novels. I cut my teeth (so to speak) on Anne Rice books and Richard Matheson’s fantastic I Am Legend. Lately I’ve been hoping to get to the third book of The Strain Series by Chuck and Guillermo Del Torro because the first two were so incredible. 
But I never had a vampire tale to tell until I found myself trying to impress an agent. Noting that the agency represented a vampire series, I decided to try my hand at the genre. And unlike other books I’ve written in which I had a clear plot in mind before setting pen to paper, for my vampire novel I had only a two word idea rolling around my head: “Vampire Chef.”
Sometimes I laugh when I tell people that was the working title. But from that little seed germinated a pretty intricate story. The agent I’d tried to impress wound up mysteriously leaving the business before I could get the proposal package to him. But, by the time I finished the first novel, I realized there were more tales to tell. While hunting for representation for the first novel, I wrote three more novels in the series plus a spin off novel featuring two paranormal investigators that appear in the third vampire novel.The novel started out as a means to an end. The more I saw it take shape though, the more its publication became the end result. Now I can’t stop telling the stories.
I wanted to give the main character, Narian a sort of every man feel. As a vampire he is special but mentally and emotionally he remains the unassuming man he was before succumbing to vampirism. Narain’s biggest challenge has been not to lose that sense of self despite the strengths and weaknesses of his condition. That’s what intrigued me about the concept of vampirism. What would a person do if they contracted a strange (sometimes deadly) condition that so altered his life?
Narain meeting his beloved Sophie offered a reprieve from some of his concerns. While Narain didn’t need to kill to feed he found so intimate a violation repulsive. And he feared passing on the power that came with vampirims to someone of a dangerous mind. Sophie agreeing to be his food source after they discovered she wasn’t susceptible to the condition helped free him from that concern. Indeed while she appears in the novel only in reminiscences, she’s very important to the plot. Her money and sacrifice allowed Narain as normal a life as possible. It even allowed him to achieve his goal of becoming a chef and owning a restaurant.
But he’s cognizant of the dangers of his condition. When the novel opens, Sophie’s death is a blow to him emotionally but that sense of normalcy is also at risk. He’s grown complacent over the years and now he must figure out how to return to hunting for his food for if he doesn’t he may end up losing control.
I hope people find as much enjoyment in reading Narain’s tale as I had in writing it. 

To Touch the Sun, the new novel by Laura L. Enright, was released Feb. 25 through Dagda Publishing. The novel, set in Chicago, is the first in Enright’s Sentient/Feral Vampire Series set in Chicago and is available on Amazon in paperback and Kindle format.
Narain Khan was 25 when he left his native India to fight in the trenches of the West­ern Front dur­ing WWI. It was his hope that he could stay on after the war to pur­sue his dream of study­ing the culi­nary arts and becom­ing a world class chef. Instead, he fell to shrap­nel amidst the car­nage of No Man’s Land which, when dark­ness fell, attracted a roam­ing pack of feral vampires–mindless feeders–who fell upon the sol­diers left wounded and dying. Attacked by the fer­als, Narain was trans­formed into the other type of vam­pire: A sen­tient capa­ble of mov­ing about in soci­ety with only a few restric­tions and able to feed with­out killing the host.
Present Day: Chicago, U.S.
Narain has reached a cross­roads. Help­ing him adjust to his con­di­tion through the decades was his beloved Sophie who was not only his wife, but his food source once they real­ized she wasn’t sus­cep­ti­ble to the con­di­tion. Her sac­ri­fice enabled him to lead as nor­mal a life as pos­si­ble, mak­ing hunt­ing for food unnec­es­sary. Can­cer had taken Sophie the pre­vi­ous year and after the stock of blood she had saved up has been depleted, Narain is faced with again hav­ing to hunt for his food, some­thing he is both morally opposed to, but also causes him to fear pass­ing on the con­di­tion to unwit­ting, per­haps dan­ger­ous hosts. If left too long, how­ever, hunger can bring out the deadly feral nature even in a sen­tient vam­pire. As a well-​​respected chef and owner of a suc­cess­ful Chicago restau­rant, Narain has worked hard to pro­mote a veneer of nor­mal­ity. The last thing he and his busi­ness part­ner and friend Dom Amato needs is for Narain’s hunger to get the bet­ter of him.
Events con­spire, how­ever, to drag Narain away from the safe life he has cul­ti­vated back into one of mad­ness and dan­ger: The attrac­tion he feels for micro­bi­ol­o­gist Cassie Lam­bert, who has a link to his past Narain is unaware of, and the re-​​emergence of a ghost from the Great War. Cap­tain Regi­nald Jame­son was a sadis­tic preda­tor when Narain had chal­lenged him dur­ing their ser­vice in the trenches of France. The vam­pire Jame­son of 90 years later is infi­nitely more dan­ger­ous, his sadism backed by the bizarre abil­i­ties of their con­di­tion. The dis­cov­ery that Cassie Lam­bert has made about the cause of vam­pirism is one that Jame­son is will­ing to kill to obtain.
Jame­son has brought back another ghost from their shared his­tory in his search to find immu­nity to sun­light. The exper­i­ments of his researchers, how­ever, have resulted in the cre­ation of a third, more ter­ri­fy­ing breed of vam­pire: Boris, a psy­cho­pathic mon­ster who will stop at noth­ing to destroy all in his path.
In try­ing to pro­tect Cassie from Jame­son and Boris, Narain will have to rely on skills that he’s allowed to atro­phy over the decades. In a cli­matic strug­gle, Narain will have to learn that to defeat the real mon­sters, he has to embrace what he is and awaken the beast within. 
About The Author: A resident of Chicago, Laura is the author of Chicago's Most Wanted™ The Top 10 Book of Murderous Mobsters, Midway Monsters, and Windy City Oddities, Vampires' Most Wanted: The Top 10 Book of Bloodthirsty Biters, Stake-wielding Slayers, and Other Undead Oddities.To Touch The Sun is her first full-length horror novel. For news and information, visit http://laura-enright.com/. To purchase the book visithttp://www.amazon.com/Touch-The-Sun-Laura-Enright/dp/149474080X For more information on the series visit http://enrightvampires.blogspot.com/

Guest blog and Giveaway Love in the Boonies By Holley Trent

Before I started writing romance, I tried my hand at urban fantasy…except, it wasn’t quite urban fantasy, because my characters never stepped foot into a city (or even the suburbs). I tried marketing it to agents as “rural fantasy” but that didn’t fly.
Now, I write paranormal romances instead of urban fantasy-style romance, but my penchant for rural settings hasn’t changed. My Sons of Gulielmus series is set predominantly in southeastern North Carolina, somewhere between Wilmington and New Bern. It’s the “sticks.” (That means “boondocks,” or a rural area with lots of trees for all of you non-Southerners.) I chose that area because although there are a lot of large towns/small cities within it that have higher population density, the area is still predominantly two-lane road rural. Most small errands are inconvenient there, and the people are…well. Quirky.
It’s the kind of place where going to the grocery store can be a half-day errand because the goodstore that carries more national brands is in the next town over. Looking for a fancy brand of coffee or teabag? You’re probably not going to find it. You’ll drink the cheap stuff or else wait on an Amazon delivery. And then you’ll cry because the mail guy left it on your back porch and someone’s hunting dog came along and tore up the box. And then the mail guy will get surly when you tell him about it because he was only trying to do you a favor when he put it back there.
It’s the kind of place where it wouldn’t be unusual for the pharmacist to call you up and whisperthat your birth control prescription is ready. It doesn’t matter that you’re only taking it because you have bad cramps. You’re obviously doing the devil’s work if you need them.
It’s the kind of place where people run businesses out of their homes and don’t pay a cent of extra tax for it because who’s going to enforce it? Really, who’s going to harass an old lady about that thousand dollars she earned selling collard greens from her garden and eggs from her chicken coop? No one. Know why? Because everyone knows that old lady makes a damned good lemon cake, and she’ll know who’ll ratted her out. Snitches don’t get stitches—they just get no lemon cake.
It’s the kind of place where no one’s going to ask too many questions. If your lie is convincing enough, folks’ll go along with it if it suits them. They may talk about you behind your back, but if the sheriff visits and asks if there’s been any funny happenings going on down at the Morton place, they’ll say “No.” Why? Because even though the Mortons are weirdos who always seem to have a lot of large, unbelievably attractive men coming and going, that lady Clarissa makes a damned good lemon cake and she undercharges for her eggs.

Who wouldn’t want to set a paranormal romance in a place like that? The setting becomes a character of its own! You can learn more about the area in A Demon in Love, and be sure to go back and read the first book in the series, A Demon in Waiting, too. The third book in the Sons of Gulielmus arc—A Demon Bewitched—will be published this fall.



A Demon in LoveSons of GulielmusBook 2Holley Trent
Genre:  Paranormal Romance
Publisher:  Crimson RomanceDate of Publication:   5/5/14
ISBN:   978-1-4405-8150-2ASIN:  
Number of pages:  163 (PDF)Word Count:    79,000
Book Description:  
Charles Edison has spent most of his 123 years courting women for Hell. As a faithful son of the demon Gulielmus, he’s never known true affection for women. Which is funny, seeing as how he’s descended from a love god on his mother’s side. Now that he sees his brother falling head over heels, Charles wants the same for himself. He wants to belong to someone.
The Fates conspire to right old wrongs, and Charles learns the woman destined for him is one he shouldn’t want. Marion Wilder’s family has been on the supernatural Most Wanted List for twenty-five years because they were responsible for the demise of a demon. Gulielmus would kill her if he had the chance.

But Marion’s the only human woman Charles can touch without harming. She’s his one chance at having a normal life and a real family, and he would give up anything to keep her. Even his father’s favor.
About the Author:  
Holley Trent is a Carolina girl gone west. Raised in rural coastal North Carolina, she currently resides on the Colorado Front Range with her family. She writes sassy contemporary and quirky paranormal romances set in her home state.
She’s hard at work writing other stories set in the Sons of Gulielmus world, including one for the mysterious Creole cambion Claude.
See Holley’s complete backlist of paranormal and contemporary romances at her website, http://www.holleytrent.com. When she’s not on deadline, she boldly tweets under the handle @holleytrent.

Website: http://www.holleytrent.com
Blog: http://www.holleytrent.com/blog
Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/holleytrent
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/writerholleytrent

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Burning Bright Cover Reveal

Burning Bright 
Ivy Granger #3 
by E.J. Stevens

Burning down the house...

Things are not going well at the offices of Private Eye. Jinx is having demon problems, the city is overrun with pyromaniacal imps, and Ivy's wisp powers are burning out of control, attracting the attention of both the Seelie and Unseelie courts.

Along came a faerie queen... It's the worst possible time for the Green Lady to call in a favor, but Ivy's bound by her deal with the glaistig. Too bad there's no wiggle room in faerie bargains.

Ivy must rid the city of imps, keep Jinx from murdering her one solid link to Hell, and fulfill her bargain with the Green Lady--with sidhe assassins hot on her tail.

Just another day's work for Ivy Granger, psychic detective.

Release Date: June 17, 2014

Genre: Paranormal, Urban Fantasy

Add to Goodreads.

Previous books in this series: Shadow Sight (Ivy Granger #1), Blood and Mistletoe (Ivy Granger #1.5), Ghost Light (Ivy Granger #2) Club Nexus(Ivy Granger #2.5).
Author Info

About the Author: E.J. Stevens is the author of the Spirit Guide young adult series and the bestselling Ivy Granger urban fantasy series. When E.J. isn't at her writing desk she enjoys dancing along seaside cliffs, singing in graveyards, and sleeping in faerie circles. E.J. currently resides in a magical forest on the coast of Maine where she finds daily inspiration for her writing.

Connect with E.J. on Twitter, Goodreads, Amazon, Pinterest, and on her Blog.
Giveaway Info


Cover Reveal Giveaway:   

$25 Amazon Gift Card to one lucky winner.  Giveaway begins Friday May 16th and ends Friday May 30th.  This giveaway is open to anyone who may receive an electronic Amazon Gift Card.  Giveaway winner will be chosen by Rafflecopter.a Rafflecopter giveaway

Release Day Blitz Inquisitor by RJ Blain

InquisitorWitch and WolfBook OneRJ Blain
Genre: Urban / Paranormal Fantasy
Publisher: Pen & Page PublishingDate of Publication:  May 16, 2014
ISBN:ASIN:
Cover Artist: Chris Howard
Book Description:
When Allison is asked to play Cinderella-turned-Fiancée at a Halloween ball, the last thing she expected was to be accused of murder on the same night. She has to find the killer and quick, or she'll be put to death for the crimes she didn't commit. To make matters worse, the victims are all werewolves.
On the short list of potential victims, Allison has to act fast, or the killer will have one more body to add to his little black book of corpses.
There's only one problem: One of the deaths has struck too close to home, and Allison's desire for self-preservation may very well transform into a quest for vengeance...
This book can be read as a standalone, it is part of a linked series


Available at Amazon



Excerpt #2
It was well enough our ‘relationship’ was nothing more than make-believe. Our friendship wasn’t much better off, either. Unfortunately, Mark didn’t know that. I shook my head to clear it, staring down at my watch.3:59 pm.I glanced eastward, at the glass-lined wall of the jewelry store I was in. Shoppers hurried about their business in the broad mall hallways, chatting to each other or talking on their too-expensive cell phones. Beyond the walls of the building, I could already feel the moon calling to me, birthing shivers under my skin. In a little over an hour, it would start to rise. I made a thoughtful sound, turning my attention back to the glass case in front of me.It was a full moon on Halloween. Some people would don masks, confident in their superiority as a human, never realizing how close they’d tread to a very violent and bloody end. Others would remove the masks they normally hid behind, rejoicing in their one night of freedom.A sad few would have no idea what horrors they had sowed come morning.I was in a lot of trouble. My fellow boogeymen didn’t frighten me all that much. It was Mark who worried me. Mark, as well as the other humans he’d subject me to before the night was done. I hadn’t lost control in years — I doubted Mark’s mother had been born since the last time it’d happened.But that didn’t change the fact that it could happen.Old or not, I was still a bitch. Without pack or mate, it was only a matter of time before I lost control.Mark wouldn’t stand a chance, and when I finally lost my grip on sanity, I wouldn’t even remember killing him. Why hadn’t I said no? Why had I agreed to travel to New York on Halloween? What had I been thinking?I hadn’t been, and that was a big problem.“Is there something I can help you with, miss?” A woman asked from beside me. I about jumped out of my skin.Shit. I swallowed back my heart and improvised. Without really seeing the jewelry beneath the glass, I pointed at something shiny, and hoped it was a necklace. “May I see that please?”“That’s a very expensive piece, ma’am.”I glanced at the woman out of the corner of my eye. A pastel pink blazer was matched with a pencil skirt that showed off thin legs and knee-high black boots. Glittering bracelets clung to her wrists. “Is that so,” I murmured, focusing my attention on the piece I pointed at.Rubies and diamonds winked at me, woven together in a Celtic knot trapped in the center of a web of delicate diamond-encrusted chains. My cheek twitched.No wonder the woman was skeptical and eying me suspiciously. Here I was, in some luxury jewelry store poking around to waste time, dressed in a beat-up leather coat, a baggy sweater, and worn jeans, complete with mud splatter from my walk in Central park. As my luck had it, I pointed out a necklace worth more than any car or house I’d ever seen in person, let alone owned.I felt the eyes of every customer in the store settle on me. Great. Just what I needed. An audience.Maybe I should’ve acted more indignant. Maybe I should’ve walked away. Instead, I took out my wallet, pulled out my black platinum Amex card, and tossed it on the counter. “May I see that please?”The sales woman stared at the card and then at me, her eyes narrowing. “Do you really think I’m going to believe this is your card?”Half of the customers in the store cleared out in the time it took the sales woman to pick up my card.“Is there a problem?” A man dressed in a business suit stepped forward. His blue eyes took in my clothes before settling on the black credit card in his coworker’s hand. The woman glared down her nose at me, her gaze settling on my beat-up jacket. “I do believe we have a stolen credit card here, sir.”The manager snatched my credit card. “Is this true, miss?”Oh hell no. I felt my cheek twitch again. “It’s not. I’ll just take my card to a different store, then.”“I think this can be resolved quickly and easily, miss,” the man replied. He frowned at me. “Can I see your ID please?”I showed him my license. The manager winced. “I’m sorry, there have been a lot of theft of valuable jewelry lately by those with fraudulent credit cards and out of state driver’s licenses. This will only take a few minutes as I verify this is a real card.”Well, at least he wasn’t going to call the police on me right away. I sighed. “Since when hasn’t my driver’s license been sufficient proof? What is this? LA?”
About the Author:
RJ Blain suffers from a Moleskine journal obsession, a pen fixation, and a terrible tendency to pun without warning.
When she isn’t playing pretend, she likes to think she’s a cartographer and a sumi-e painter. In reality, she herds cats and a husband, and obeys the commands of Tsu Dhi, the great warrior fish.
In her spare time, she daydreams about being a spy. Should that fail, her contingency plan involves tying her best of enemies to spinning wheels and quoting James Bond villains until she’s satisfied.

Blog: http://rjblain.com
Twitter: http://twitter.com/rj_blain
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7190903.R_J_Blain
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/pages/RJ-Blain/121746651191778


RJ Blain’s Favorite Books & Series 
In no particular order:
Anne McCaffrey’s Pern
Mercedes Lackey’s Valdemar & Gryphon Series
Jim Butcher’s Codex Alera
Brandon Sanderson’s Elantris
Patricia Briggs’ Alpha and Omega & Dragon Bones
Madeline L’Engle’s A Wrinkle in Time

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The Boss Series by Abigail Barnette

A common question writers get asked is, “Do you listen to music while you write?” And the answer is, yes, quite a lot of us do. Some writers can’t listen to music with lyrics. Other writers have to listen to lyrics that remind them of their books. Some, myself included, like to put together playlists that serve as a kind of movie soundtrack to the scenes I’m writing. These are the top 5 songs I chose for the Boss series, and why:
The Boss:
1.     “Will Do,” TV On The Radio. This song is specifically mentioned in a steamy scene at the W hotel. The first line of this song, “It might be impractical to seek out a new romance” caught my ear and I thought, “Well, that sums up this relationship perfectly, doesn’t it?”
2.     “Leisure Suite” Feist. Sophie set the chorus of this song as Neil’s ringtone, due to the sexy, campy feel.
3.     “Sail Away (Rae and Christian Remix),” David Gray. Some songs I put on the list just because they sounded so hot. This was one of those songs.
4.     “Riversong,” A Fine Frenzy. I listened to this one over and over while writing a pivotal moment in Neil and Sophie’s relationship. The lyrics weren’t what touched me about this song so much as the tempo.
5.     “I Feel Better,” Gotye. This could be Neil Elwood’s theme song with regards to Sophie. While the book is written in Sophie’s first-person point of view, it was important for me to remember what was going through Neil’s head, too, and this song helped remind me
The Girlfriend
1.     “Fljótavík,” Sigur Ros. This song comforts Sophie in a rough time. The lyrics are so sad and hopeful at the same time. I used to cry listening to this and writing!
2.     “Slow and Steady,” Of Monsters and Men. I tried to incorporate more Icelandic stuff into this book, since Neil spent his late childhood and teen years there. I like to imagine he would keep up on the music scene there. This song called such a strong image to my mind of both Sophie and Neil trying to hold things together for themselves externally while being unsure and overwhelmed inside.
3.     “Overjoyed,” Bastille. A lot of th music I picked for this book had a little bit of melancholy to them. Love through fear and sadness is the theme of this book, and this song got that vibe across perfectly.
4.     “Only You” Ellie Goulding. The Girlfriend isn’t all doom and gloom. It’s hard to shift from complex emotional content to scorching hot sex scenes and make it fit well. Since this song has both bases covered, I used it for a lot of inspiration.
5.     “Learnalilgivinanlovin,” Gotye. When I think of this song, I think of Sophie and Emma trying to forge a kind of friendly relationship in an extremely weird situation. While the lyrics don’t necessarily fit perfectly, the theme sure does!
The Bride
1.     “Let Her Go,” Passenger. This is so, so Sophie and Holli’s song. Sometimes, we take the people we love most for granted. I hated writing about forty percent of this book because of that, but I love the way it ended. I’m the biggest fan of Sophie and Holli’s friendship.
2.     “Elephant,” Tame Impala. The only reason this makes the list is because my husband and I were listening to it in the car and he said, “This seems like a song Neil would have on his iPod.” Damned if he wasn’t right!
3.     “The Story,” Brandi Carlile. Family is the theme of The Bride. This song perfectly paints the emotions I was trying to get across. Shared history, if the good outweighs the bad, is what builds a family. I’m really proud of the little family growing together in this series. With a ton of kink at the core of the storyline, who would have thought?
4.     “Birthday,” Katy Perry. I have a suspicion that Sophie danced around to this song many times in anticipation of Neil’s surprise birthday party.
5.     “S-S-S-Single Bed,” F.O.X. It’s so fun to write about a couple who can be sexy, yet irreverent about sex at the same time. Playful music helps keep that attitude in perspective.

Working to music really helps the writing pass faster, but full disclosure? I sometimes spent more time finding songs than writing the book! 

The Boss    Book 1Abigail Barnette
Genre: Erotic romance/BDSM
Date of Publication: August 2013
ISBN:  978-1493625482ASIN: B00ENTIAJM
Number of pages: 353Word Count: 120,000Cover Artist: Jenny Trout
Book Description:
Sophie Scaife almost ran away once, trading her ticket to college for a ticket to Tokyo. But a delayed flight and a hot one-night stand with a stranger changed her mind, putting her firmly on track to a coveted position at a New York fashion magazine.
When the irresistible stranger from that one incredible night turns out to be her new boss - billionaire and publishing magnate Neil Elwood - Sophie can't resist the chance to rekindle the spark between them... and the opportunity to explore her submissive side with the most Dominant man she's ever known.
Neil is the only man who has ever understood Sophie's need to submit in the bedroom, and the only man who has ever satisfied those desires. When their scorching, no-strings-attached sexual relationship becomes something more, Sophie must choose between her career and heart... or risk losing them both.
Amazon    Smashwords    Barnes and Noble

Excerpt from The Boss
I couldn’t believe I was doing this. I couldn’t believe it was actually happening, after six years. After I had given up hope of ever having a sexual experience as satisfying as my night with Leif. Every muscle in my body tensed with anticipation. My breath caught in my chest as my fingers ventured down, under the black lace of my panties. I thought back to my white cotton underpants that night at the Crowne Plaza, and I giggled to myself. If anyone had told me back then that I’d be sex ambushing the man six years later, I wouldn’t have believed I would have the nerve.I closed my eyes and stroked two fingers down my slit. My hips lifted. I’d been so eager for this moment, now it seemed like my skin was too sensitive to touch. I thought of what Neil would see when he walked in, and remembered the undisguised appreciation in his eyes while he’d watched our hands on my body.My stomach fluttered with nervous butterflies. What if he was expecting the girl from six years ago, who’d only had sex with fumbling teenage boys? What if he got here and was turned off by my initiative? After all, he’d found my naiveté so endearing the last time we were together. Oh shut up, I scolded myself. Would you really want to fuck a guy who only wanted you for your sexual inexperience? No, because that would be weird.I’d made a salient point, I had to concede.My fingertips circled my clit, and a shaky breath stuttered across my lips. My flesh felt hot and heavy under my hand, and I cupped myself, letting my fingers slip between the folds of my sex.The door clicked open, and the weight of my desire became like an electric current. My lungs seized, my limbs quivered. I opened my eyes, a soft groan escaping me when I saw Neil there. He closed the door and dropped his messenger bag. His gaze met mine and held it as he walked toward me in his long black coat and leather gloves. I don’t know how I managed to maintain eye contact, but I did, and I had never felt so sexy in my entire life. Why had I ever doubted that this would please him?His maddeningly neutral expression gave nothing away, but he couldn’t disguise the hunger in his eyes. Oh, he wanted me. He stood over me, looking down as I continued to move my hand beneath my panties.“Take those off.” His voice was soft and deep, the tone firm. I was being commanded, not asked. A perverse thrill shot through me, and I shivered.His eyes followed my hands as I slowly peeled the scrap of black lace down my thighs. He stepped closer and ran one gloved hand up my calf, raising goose bumps on my skin. I moaned at the cool touch of the leather, and he grasped my panties, jerking them down the rest of the way. I slipped my feet from them and watched him lift the lace to his nose.“Oh god.” My exclamation tore out on a ragged breath, and I pressed my thighs together against the pounding ache in my cunt. I wanted him so badly I trembled, but I was afraid of what would happen when we actually touched. The longing, the desperate, clawing sexual need that had been missing from every encounter I’d had in the intervening six years crashed over me, turned my blood into liquid desire coursing to every throbbing cell in my body.“Don’t stop,” he said, removing his gloves slowly, tugging one fingertip at a time. I spread my legs a little, and he ordered, “Wider.”I heard my pulse in my ears as I parted my thighs further. Neil took off his coat and tossed it across the ottoman, on top of the gloves he’d already discarded. He moved to stand between my spread legs, looking down at me with his hands in his pockets. He was hard, his cock a visible ridge against his fly beneath his unbuttoned jacket.I stroked myself, letting my fingers wander further, to dip inside before tracing upward again, coated in the evidence of my overwhelming desire. I smoothed the silky wetness over my clitoris, into the short, neatly trimmed strip of hair on my mound.Wordlessly, Neil watched me rub my clit in slow circles. Being like this for him, my legs open, my pussy exposed and gleaming wet while he stood there fully dressed, turned the naughty factor up to eleven and then some. Just thinking about what I was doing spiked my arousal higher. I had done things with him that I’d never done with anyone else, and that knowledge made me feel oddly safe.My thighs tensed, and I planted my black pumps firmly against the rug. My orgasm wound tight inside me, ready to spring and uncoil me from the inside out. A yelped, “Ah!” of frustration escaped me, and I lifted my hips from the sofa. I was going to come, I was so close, I was going to come while he watched me, without him ever touching me, and I was so goddamn close—
“Stop.”
The GirlfriendThe BossBook 2Abigail Barnette
Genre: erotic romance/BDSM
Date of Publication: August 2013
ISBN: 978-1492744115ASIN: B00EN0NAB4
Number of pages: 391Word Count: 132,000
Cover Artist: Jenny Trout
Book Description:
Unemployed, blacklisted, and pregnant, Sophie Scaife’s life is totally upside down. Her relationship with publishing magnate Neil Elwood is on the rocks. Her best friend’s career is igniting. And Sophie is afraid she’ll make one of the toughest decisions of her life alone…
When a devastating diagnosis forces Neil to return to London, Sophie throws caution to the wind to follow her heart across the Atlantic. Keeping a scorching D/s affair as red-hot in sickness as it was in health is a challenge, even for two lovers as inventive as Sophie and Neil. But Sophie is more than willing to try anything her Sir commands, and their fantasies of control become a welcome refuge from the daily stress of illness.
While Neil’s wealth and privilege make adjusting to her new situation easier, Sophie finds herself rebuilding her life around an uncertain future. And while both of them face the changes between them head-on, they’re all too aware that their happiness may be fleeting—and Sophie could lose Neil forever.
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Excerpt from The Girlfriend
How do you tell the guy who just tried to break up with you that you’re pregnant with his baby?When the doors opened on his floor and I stepped into the softly lit vestibule, Neil was there already, waiting for me.When I saw him, my stomach dropped like I was in the backseat of a minivan going over a bad hill. He was pale, he looked tired, and the smile he gave me was worried and forced.But he was still Neil, so handsome and tall, with his in-between-blonde-and-brown hair and his gorgeous green eyes. My heart flip-flopped, like it always did, since that first moment we’d met at LAX over six years ago.“Hello, Sophie.”“Hey,” I responded in a short, friendly monotone as we moved into the inner foyer. His apartment, which I had just begun to feel comfortable in before our near-breakup or breakup-in-progress, whatever was happening between us, suddenly seemed like a stranger’s home. I’d had a difficult enough time getting used to the fact that my boyfriend lived in a Fifth Avenue palace with checkered marble floors and a freaking home movie theatre. Now I felt like I had to be on my very best behavior.Neil helped me with my coat. “You look very pretty,” he said softly.I hadn’t changed out of the crème-colored cowl-necked sweater and soft old jeans I’d worn to the doctor’s office. I didn’t feel particularly pretty, but I murmured a thank you all the same. I noted his salmon button down. “It’s not pink, it’s salmon,” he had argued with me a few weeks ago, before we’d tumbled playfully into his bed. I blinked back my tears at the memory. “You’re not so bad yourself. Did you go to work today?”“No, I was just so tired of hospital gowns. I needed to get dressed or end up deeply depressed.” His laugh was short.I wanted to touch him. I wanted him to touch me. I just wanted everything to be okay between us.He led me to the kitchen, where Sue had laid out our neatly plated dinners. “Halibut, I hope you don’t mind.”“It smells amazing.” It actually smelled awful, but I didn’t hold that against his housekeeper. It was the uninvited guest in my uterus. It made everything smell ten times stronger than usual. I looked around the kitchen. The counters were scrubbed clean, the light was off over the stove. I slid into one side of the breakfast nook. “Sue’s gone for the night?”“I didn’t ask her to stay on past seven.” He went around the wide, marble-topped island and reached into the cooler beneath, coming up with a bottle of white wine.“None for me, thanks,” I said, too quick. He gave me a strange look, and put the bottle away.That was weird. He usually liked wine with dinner.Oh god, he was probably staying sober to let me down gently when he broke things off for good. The wine was for me, to drown my sorrows, if necessary.I completely lost my appetite.“So...” He sat down across from me and unfolded his napkin. “It’s been a while since we’ve talked. Any developments in the job hunt?”I knew what he was asking me. “I didn’t take the job with Gabriella.”He nodded, and poured ice water into my glass from the carafe on the table. “Were her terms—” “You know why I turned it down.” My hands clenched in my lap. I was more angry than I thought I would be. I’d been preparing for this moment, steeling myself against hurt and disappointment so that I could walk away with dignity. Instead, my emotional control snapped like a rubber band and I accused, “How dare you.”“Sorry?” He looked like a man staring through the windshield of a car that was nanoseconds from hitting him.“You did it again. You pushed me into making this huge decision, but you acted like you were somehow protecting me. You did it when you stole my plane tickets six years ago. Now you tell me that I have to take this job because it’s a wonderful opportunity, and you magnanimously declare that you’ll let me go if you have to. “You didn’t even ask me what I wanted. You didn’t tell me what you wanted. It’s like you don’t care about the outcome, you just don’t want to feel responsible for it.”“Magnanimous?” he repeated, outraged.My hands were clenched to fists beneath the table. If we were going to break up, then we might as well raze this fucker, salt the earth, and poison the ground water. “If you didn’t want to be with me... then just break up with me. Don’t force me to make the choice for you.”He was struggling to control his temper as he said, measured and controlled, “I wanted you to slow down and think about what you were doing, and where we were headed. You keep pushing me away—”“I keep pushing you away?” I snorted derisively. “When I got to the hospital the other night, I was so worried about you. Then, you basically break up with me and try to make it seem like it was for my own good. For four days, I felt like I couldn’t call you or see how you were doing, while you were in the fucking hospital. I had to get updates from Deja, and all of those were total bullshit. Exhaustion? You don’t get exhausted.”“On the contrary, I was quite exhausted,” he said quietly.I looked up, and I knew he could see how furious I was from the way he slightly flinched when our eyes met. Good.I reached into my pocket and fished out the ultrasound image. I placed it face down on the table and slid it toward him. “I needed you. I called you eleven times because I was freaked out and scared about this. And I came down to the hospital afraid something really horrible had happened to you, and I was thinking about all the stuff I would miss about you if you died. And what the hell was I going to do about this?”He lifted the photo and turned it over. It took a moment for him to register what it was. I saw a surprising mixture of emotions in his expression, things I didn’t expect. I’d been prepared for angry, or scared. Maybe cold, or strained and polite. Instead, his eyebrows lifted and he blinked in momentary shock. The slightest smile twitched at the corner of his lips. He looked pleased, maybe even a little proud.I clasped my hands together under the table to stop myself from trembling. The longer he looked at the photo, the more the color drained from his face. There it was. That was more like what I had expected.He looked up, throat moving as he swallowed. His eyes met mine, and a sick feeling of dread curdled my stomach. Whatever he was going to say, I knew it was going to be bad. But it was so much worse than I had expected.“I have cancer.”


The Bride  The BossBook 3Abigail Barnette
Genre: erotic romance/BDSM
Date of Publication: March 2014
ISBN: 1497486173ASIN: B00J8QG7BI
Number of pages: 415Word Count: 140,000
Cover Artist: Jenny Trout
Book Description:
After a tumultuous year, Sophie Scaife’s relationship with her boyfriend and Dom, billionaire media mogul Neil Elwood, is hotter and happier than ever. His sizzling Dominant side pushes Sophie to new and challenging heights of submission and erotic exploration as she follows her Sir’s every whim. But with his daughter’s impending wedding and a milestone birthday turning Neil’s thoughts toward settling down, Sophie faces a much different future than she’d planned.
Caught in a conflict between her new wealth and her desire for independence, Sophie fears she’s becoming just another Fifth Avenue trophy wife. With her fashion journalism career over and her new effort as a writer uninspiring, Sophie has to work harder than ever to prove her intentions to Neil’s family and friends.
Sophie isn’t the only one struggling to adapt to her new lifestyle. When private jets and designer labels threaten her bond with Holli, Sophie finds herself walking a fine line between the world she now inhabits and the past—and people—she fears she’s left behind. After a shocking revelation divides her loyalties, Sophie is in danger of losing her best friend or fracturing the trust of the man she loves. 

Excerpt from The Bride
“I have a game in mind,” he continued, sliding the pocket door closed. There was a little latch on it, and he flicked it down. “Are you interested?”“Always.”“Then get naked and get your ass on that table.”“Yes, Sir!” As I readily complied with his order, he took something out of a seat pocket. A deck of cards. So, it really was a game.“Is something funny?” he asked, a delicious hint of warning in his tone as he slid smoothly into his role as my Dom.I shook my head. “No, Sir. Just anticipation.”“If you enjoy anticipation, then you’ll very much enjoy this game.” He slid the cards from their box and shuffled them between his big hands. He waited until I was completely naked and sitting primly on the edge of the table, then he said, “Slide back, bring your knees up, and spread them. If you’d put your heels on the corners of the table, that would be ideal.”“But then I’ll be wide open, Sir,” I teased, slowly pushing back and lifting my feet up to rest where he’d indicated. There was such a naughty thrill at being completely naked in a situation where people normally weren’t naked. I mean, I’d never seen anyone so exposed on an intercontinental flight before. Maybe I’d been on the wrong planes.“While I explain the rules, I’d like you to stroke your clitoris. One finger only, no penetration,” he added sternly.I slipped my middle finger into my mouth and held his gaze as I sucked it down to the knuckle. When I pulled it out, it shined with my saliva, and I reached between my legs to do as he’d instructed.He pulled a card from the deck and held it up. It was a seven of clubs. “Clubs, denial.”I took a shaky breath. We’d played games with my orgasms before. It was the best—and worst—activity.He plucked another card from the center of the deck, glanced at it, put it back, and pulled another. Ace of spades. “Spades, ruined.”Ruined orgasms were the worst. But they made every one that came after them so much more intense, because it took longer to get there.“Sir?” I asked. “Do the number values on the cards have any bearing, or are we just going by the suits?”He considered a moment. “Which would you prefer?”I thought about how frustrating a ten of spades would be, and decided, “Let’s just go with the suits.”“Numbers for another time, perhaps?” he suggested with a lascivious smirk. He pulled another card. “Diamonds—”“Mean I can come?” The hot flush of arousal that pulsed between my legs intensified at the word.“Mean I get to decide the action.” He stepped between my legs and traced the edge of the card from my ankle to my knee. “I’ll give you a command, and you’ll obey.”“That sounds like just another day at the office,” I challenged him.He moved the edge of the card down the slope of my thigh, over my hip and stomach, between my breasts, up to my throat. He dropped the card and gripped my jaw, the rough touch sending darts of desire through me. “Do you want a spanking?”I lifted my leg and rubbed my toes across the front of his jeans. “Always.”He grinned down at me and leaned in for a languid kiss. I savored his mouth on mine, darted my tongue along his lower lip. His beard pricked my chin, and I rubbed my cheek against his. He released my face and sank his fingers into the hair at my nape. I rolled my clit in slow circles while he kissed me, the shocks of desire there echoed by the delicious tingling in my lips and tongue. My leg caught between us as he pressed me down. When he pulled back, I flexed my foot, feeling the thickness of his erection through his jeans.With a maddening half-smile, he picked the cards up again and shuffled them, then withdrew one. “Hearts mean you’re allowed to orgasm. Do you understand the rules of the game?”I nodded, my breathing increasing in tempo to match my rising desire. “I understand, Sir.”He put the cards down on the table between my legs and drew one from the top. A heart.I thought he would be disappointed that his game had so quickly rewarded me. If he was, I saw no sign of it as he brushed my hand away from my mound and spread my labia to expose my engorged, throbbing clit. He pinched it between his thumb and forefinger, and dropped to his knees to give me a slow lick.I groaned and leaned on my elbows, letting my head fall back. My hair hung loose, brushing my shoulders, and I sighed happily as Neil’s lips closed over me. He alternated rolling my clit between his fingers and lapping and sucking at it with his tongue. I squirmed against his mouth. After a year together, he knew everywhere I needed to be touched. He could get me off almost as fast as I could get myself off, which made sense, since he’d studied me doing it enough. I whimpered at the intensity that built without faltering, and, mindful that we weren’t alone on the plane, I breathed deeply through my nose to keep from moaning. His facial hair chafed my thighs and labia in the best possible way. He slipped a finger into me, and I clutched on him, rocking my hips against his face. He found my g-spot like he’d grown up in the neighborhood, and my hands curled on the polished wood tabletop. My calves cramped and my knees hugged his head. I managed to subdue myself to a low groan as I climaxed.He withdrew his finger, but kept the other hand busy on my over stimulated clit as I panted and tried to wriggle away. He took another card and held it up, and my brain registered that it was a spade even as I climbed toward a second orgasm, one I would be cruelly denied at the last possible second. Neil had ruining an orgasm down to a science. My pussy clenched, the sharp edge of pleasure twisting tighter and tighter, and just when I thought I would come, just when I desperately wanted it, he pulled his hand away.“No, don’t!” I begged, but I didn’t say “red,” the word I used when I really wanted to stop, so he didn’t give in.
He laughed low and said, “Oh, Sophie. Begging for mercy? Have we met?”
About the Author:
Abigail Barnette is the erotic romance pseudonym of Jenny Trout, YAauthor, blogger, and funny person. Writing as Jennifer Armintrout, she made the USA Today bestseller list with Blood Ties Book One: The Turning. Her novel American Vampire was named one of the top ten horror novels of 2011 by Booklist Magazine Online. She is a proud Michigander, mother of two, and wife to the only person alive capable of spending extended periods of time with her without wanting to kill her.
www.jennytrout.com
@jenny_trout
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Spotlight and Giveaway The Only Sorceress by Anya Breton

The Only SorceressSorceressBook OneAnya Breton
Genre: Urban Fantasy
Publisher: Evernight PublishingDate of Publication: June 20, 2013
ISBN: 978-1-77130-458-0ASIN: B00DIMY6HU
Number of pages: 275Word Count: 88,000
Cover Artist: Sour Cherry Designs
Book Description:
Self-proclaimed sorceress Kora Walsh knows exactly how to use her shiny new MBA. She’ll open a new age shop in a colony of the country’s most powerful witches. But the town rife with bigots doesn’t want her or her sleek shop tainting their perfect community.
Kora would leave if she had any choice in the matter. She’s trained from childhood for her true task—infiltrating coven leadership as her mother’s mole. Failure to do her familial duty is not an option, not when her childhood nemesis is assured her failed soul for an eternity of torture.
And thanks to the colony’s loudest supporter, the beautiful Desmond Marino, failure is a very real danger.
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Excerpt: I might have considered the hotness factor of the guy in the tailored suit standing on my porch if I hadn’t been operating on three hours of sleep. Instead, I repeatedly rubbed the crust out of my eyes and contemplated what kind of insurance he could possibly be selling.Was there a company that insured members of the Underground against accidents? Whatever it was, it would cost me an arm and a leg because the outfit covering his sinewy body couldn’t have had a price tag for less than a thousand dollars.“Yeah?” I asked over a particularly aggressive yawn. It came out as “Eeeaaa?” I took the opportunity to pull my polyester robe around myself while he peered over my shoulder into my empty living room.“I’m Desmond Marino,” the guy on my front stoop said.The matter-of-fact tone of his smooth, masculine voice suggested he expected I’d heard of him. Likewise he didn’t extend the arm hanging beside his black silk-blend jacket to offer me a shake—the implication being he didn’t feel I deserved the courtesy. Nor did he lift his eyes from their hooded position. That gaze combined with his flat, dark eyebrows and the full lips of a Michelangelo statue gave off the impression of sensual menace. Then again, maybe it was that he was hot in an international male model sort of way with his short blue-black hair, chiseled nose, and posh wardrobe.He scrutinized me up and down. This guy could give my nemesis a run for his money in the menace department.What in the world had made me think of Trip now?The smoky tang of incense floated on the air. I hadn’t burnt any, and the breeze was too brisk for it to have come from a neighbor. But no, that wasn’t incense. It was the marker of a witch.I took a stealthy sniff while blinking slowly. The crisp note of a fresh mountain stream overtook the smoky tang. Water witch. My stomach twisted into a tight knot. Water witches’ empathic ability often caused the most trouble of the magical community.“You are not welcome here,” he said in a voice loud enough to wake the neighbors.Despite the volume I wasn’t sure I’d heard him correctly during my twentieth yawn of the morning. “Pardon?”His eyes—a disturbing aqua blue not far off from my cerulean hair—somehow managed to hood more without completely closing. He was familiar. Strange, considering I’d never officially met a Water witch.“This is a colony for witches,” he said haughtily. “You aren’t a witch. How did you get in here?”“I signed a year lease just like everyone else,” I said, deliberately misunderstanding him.“This is Wipuk,” he said as if he thought I’d gotten lost on my way to Phoenix. “If you aren’t a witch then you aren’t welcome. You shouldn’t have even been able to crosswithout magical ability.”I made damn sure he saw my eyebrows shoot up to the middle of my forehead. Desmond Marino was a dick. But if he felt like he could knock on my door at whatever time it was and tell me I wasn’t welcome, then I figured he fancied himself important. I couldn’t simply tell him to stick his head in Cerberus’s maw if I had any chance of completing the task my mother had set forth for me. Infiltrating the magical community’s leadership would be a difficult task without ticking off anyone who might have their ear.So I emulated an airhead. Guys were always nicer to stupid girls.“Really?” I blinked vacuously blank eyes twice. “I have a shapeshifter neighbor. And over there in apartment one twenty-six are a werefox dad and son.” I pointed past Desmond the dick’s shoulder toward the building across the courtyard. I let my head tilt to the right so my hair would fall away from my cheek in a girlish way. “I didn’t know witches could be infected by Were-viruses.”They couldn’t. Nor could a shapeshifter be born a witch. The analogy would be like a dog being born a cat.Desmond the dick’s full lips puckered, giving him a Muppet-like appearance. “They have been given dispensation to live in Wipuk and keys to cross. You haven’t.”“Oh gosh,” I said ruefully with noticeably slow blinks I’d always imagined equated to idiocy. “I have this letter from the Centralized Coven Coalition that says… Hang on.” I held up my index finger in the “one moment” sign. “Let me go get it. I don’t want to misquote anyone.”I scampered to the breakfast bar where I’d dropped my laptop bag. In the stack of papers that included my business plan for my intended shop, my bank statements, and market research into the Sedona economy, was a letter from the coalition. I returned to the door as I flipped through the pages.“Here it is,” I said in an appropriately vacant tone. “It’s addressed to Rebecca Kora Walsh.” I glanced at him. “That’s me.” At his darkened look, I continued. “It says, I quote, ‘Thank you for your recent interest in relocating to the Wipuk colony. Any faction capable of finding Wipuk is welcome to join us.’” I gave Desmond the dick my beatific smile along with a playful little bounce that sent my cerulean hair sliding away from my face. “I found it!”His chin was flush with his collar now. The whites of his eyes were no longer visible. Clearly he didn’t enjoy my airhead act.“Someone helped you,” he said with careful enunciation. “You didn’t simply walkinto Wipuk on our own.”I shook my head slowly, allowing my eyes to widen in my Golly-Gee-Mr. Wilson expression. “I don’t know anyone here except for the shapeshifter I met last night and the teenage werefox who stole my boxes but brought them back. No one helped me find Wipuk. I just found it.” I gestured to the paper in my hand. “Like I said in my original letter to the coalition, I’m a sorceress. I think that’s why I was able to find the colony.”Desmond the dick stared at my eyes furiously for three seconds as if he’d expected me to change my tune merely to please him. His next words came out in the same careful tone as his previous statement. “There is no such thing as a sorceress. You had to have help.”
There wasn’t. But he didn’t need to know that. He did need to know I could wield magic. I’d have to give him a show of it.
About the Author:
Anya Breton is a web monkey with an obsession for nail polish and rubber chickens. Her fears include Peeps and people who hate clowns. She lives in the Midwest with her significant other.
Website: http://www.anyabreton.com
Twitter: http://twitter.com/AnyaBreton
Facebook: http://facebook.com/anyabreton
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/anyabreton



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Blitz The Luthier’s Apprentice by Mayra Calvani

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The Luthier’s ApprenticeMayra Calvani
Genre: YA Fantasy/ParanormalPublisher: Twilight Times Books
Date of Publication: May 15th, 2014
ISBN: 978-1-60619-028-9ASIN: not available yet
Number of pages: 184Word Count: 50,000
Cover Artist: Renu Sharma
Book Description:
Niccolò Paganini (1782-1840), one of the greatest violinists who ever lived and rumored to have made a pact with the devil, has somehow transferred unique powers to another… 
When violinists around the world mysteriously vanish, 16-year-old Emma Braun takes notice.  But when her beloved violin teacher disappears… Emma takes charge. With Sherlock Holmes fanatic, not to mention gorgeous Corey Fletcher, Emma discovers a parallel world ruled by an ex-violinist turned evil sorceress who wants to rule the music world on her own terms.
But why are only men violinists captured and not women? What is the connection between Emma's family, the sorceress, and the infamous Niccolò Paganini? 
Emma must unravel the mystery in order to save her teacher from the fatal destiny that awaits him.  And undo the curse that torments her family—before evil wins and she becomes the next luthier's apprentice…
Available at Amazon and BN
About the Author:
Award-winning author Mayra Calvani has penned over ten books for children and adults in genres ranging from picture books to nonfiction to paranormal fantasy novels. She’s had over 300 articles, short stories, interviews and reviews published in magazines such as The Writer, Writer’s Journal and Bloomsbury Review, among others. A native of San Juan, Puerto Rico, she now resides in Brussels, Belgium.
http://www.MayraCalvani.com  
Twitter: https://twitter.com/mcalvani
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/272703.Mayra_Calvani
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Guest blog and Giveaway: State Of Infection by Michael J. Frey

MUSIC IN THE BACKGROUNDHow in the world do people write with rock n’ roll blasting in the background? I think to be able to multitask like that automatically qualifies you as a genius. I know Stephen King does it. He said that while he writes he listens to, “…Metallica, Anthrax. I still listen to those guys ... There's a band called the Living Things that I like a lot. Very loud group. I never cared for Ozzy very much (The Atlantic, April 12, 2011).”
I don’t write with music on. I’m too easily distracted. I wrote my latest book, State of Infection, in my basement, mostly in the silence of the house after the rest of the family went to bed. If I could type in a sensory deprivation floatation tank, I would, except I can’t find one for sale on Amazon or Brookstone. Music is for the backyard, the swimming pool and the car (at least when I’m not listening to audiobooks). It all keeps me a little sharper than I otherwise would be.
The three places I can find total peace and quiet to write are the following: my comfy chair in the basement of my home, In my office during a lunch break (I close my door and ask the secretaries not to disturb me for an hour unless it’s an emergency) and finally in my on-call room, late at night in the hospital (usually with a patient in early labor). It is these rare quiet moments that I write.

That’s why I need to be ready to write when the free time comes. I don’t have time for writer’s block. Whenever an idea hits me during the day, I just write it down for later on. Sometimes I write it on a scrap of paper, the back of a CVS receipt or I simply email myself the idea. When I can, I gather up these ideas and write them in a notebook. When I get the time, a quick review of my notes is all I need to get trucking. That’s how I wrote State of Infection. I hope you get a chance to read it and I hope you like it. 
State Of Infection         Michael J. Frey
Genre: Science Fiction/ Horror
Publisher: Black Rose Writing
Date of Publication: March 6, 2014
ISBN: 9781612963211ASIN: B00J4WWY3Q
Number of pages:266Word Count: 84K
Cover Artist: Tommy Dalston
Book Description:
Just months before the Battle of Central Park and the onset of the Second Civil War, President Obama declares martial law in New York, New Jersey and Connecticut as Montoya’s encephalopathy spreads.
Despite the military’s best efforts, the government falls and Manhattan is reborn as a city-state under a military dictatorship. Survivors Mike Calaf, and Avalon Calendar struggle to survive, caught between the zombies and the new ruler of New York.
But long before the zombie infection, during the First Civil War, Doctor William Jackson (of the Confederate States of America) is trying to unravel the mystery behind this strange new sickness. He knows that if Complex P fails to work, there could be devastating consequences which might influence the future of mankind.
Book Trailer: http://www.stateofinfection.com/pics---video.html
Purchase it at Amazon   BN    iTunes  Goodreads


Excerpt:
1- DOCTOR MIKE CALAF

It’s been nearly a year since the outbreak. Most people call it the ZA infection, though it’s not really an infection. The proper medical term is Montoya’s encephalopathy (named after Claude Montoya, the French researcher who spearheaded the early studies). I was in my office seeing patients when it began. Back then I had a medical practice on the Upper East Side of Manhattan, about a block away from my one bedroom apartment. I could get from my office to my home before you could say Jack Robinson. It was convenient as heck (and in the end, probably saved my life). In those days my biggest concern was keeping the practice growing. Medicine is, among many things, a business, and like most businesses, mine had overhead. Lots of overhead. In my case overhead meant two receptionists and two nurses. I also had the malpractice insurance to cover, which seemed to go up almost every year. Next came the office supplies (both secretarial and medical). Then throw in the computers, maintenance, and a small reserve for holiday parties. Private practice in New York City was a costly beast to say the least. Fortunately, I did pretty well and was able to celebrate my black Friday earlier and earlier each year. I wish I could attribute my good fortune to my skills as a doctor, but as Avalon might say, that dog won’t hunt. There were plenty of good docs in New York City before the ZA infection, so I had to find a way to stand out. The real secret to my success was keeping the waiting down to a bare minimum. I prided myself on it. Everyone hates waiting for the doctor, I get that, I hate it too. And no group of people does hurried and rushed like Manhattanites. So if Mrs. Kessler had an appointment at noon, she was seen by noon, or sooner. That, and a pair of the friendliest secretaries known to mankind, is what kept my people coming back. Of course, it didn’t always work out that way. All it took was one complicated condition to throw off the schedule. For example, during what I thought was a routine physical exam, I felt an enlarged liver in a fifteen-year-old boy. That’s how a visit booked for twenty minutes became forty-five minutes. After explaining the findings to a terrified patient and his mother, I then had to order liver function tests, screening tests for hepatitis and a CT scan of the abdomen. It takes time, but it has to get done. You do what you can while keeping the bottom line in mind. And, if Mrs. Kessler wants to tell you about her son’s academic success at Brandeis University, or Mr. Barkman wants to show you pics of his new Shetland Sheepdog? Well, you smile and look at the pics, or at least that’s what I did. Good word of mouth followed, and my practice grew; satisfying both my needs as a physician, and as a businessman.I wish I could say my office was filled with marble and gold leaf, and that I had one of those big fancy wooden desks. It wasn’t like that. But it wasn’t one of those tired, worn out old offices with dirty carpets and framed posters of Matisse and Van Gogh everywhere you turned. It was pretty standard I guess. On my desk, I had two photographs. One was a recent pic of Kimberly and me in the North Fork of Long Island (the wine country). The other was of my sister and my parents, which was taken at a wedding, or bar mitzvah, or something; everyone dressed up and smiling in the type of picture that seemed dated the second it went into the frame; the type of picture destined for a desktop. Overall, I’d say it was a nice setup. Then the ZA infection came and everything changed. And if a little zombie apocalypse wasn’t bad enough, the Southern Federation showed up next to conduct what they called the Second Civil War. Talk about bad karma.  Manhattan is now what one might call a city-state, a tiny little country onto itself. And who gets to be king of New York? A man named Castor Dean does. Castor Dean is the class president...of a pretty big class. Not that he was elected by his classmates (or anyone else for that matter). His authority was given to him by what remained of the military after the government collapsed. His official political title is the Gallum Major; which means king or ruler. Personally, I would have chosen “El Hefe” if I ruled New York, but they never offered me the position. This is not to say that Castor Dean is a bad leader, it’s just that the vox populi never meant much to him. Most survivors welcomed Castor and his absolute rule. After all, because of him, the city still has electricity and clean water. That fact alone makes Castor worth his weight in gold. Castor changed things up when he came into power. For starters, he renamed the city. Manhattan, he felt, had been erased by the ZA infection. The survivors of the zombie apocalypse needed a fresh start, a new beginning. So Manhattan was reborn as Gallum City, and Roosevelt Island (a small island adjacent to Manhattan) became its capital. Because of Roosevelt's small size, Castor’s army was able to clear out the zaps in a matter of days. This zombie-free sanctuary (just a few minutes boat ride from Manhattan) was the ideal location for the new ruling class. Roosevelt Island was divided into three sections. The southern section became a military town named New Sparta (where most the soldiers were barracked). The middle of the island was for government leaders and their families. The northern section was given to the surviving civilian population, the natives, who lived on Roosevelt before the infection. They were allowed to stay, provided they agreed to relocation.


About the Author:
Michael Frey is a physician and assistant professor in New York City. He lives in Westchester, New York with his wife Jessica, two children and two dogs.
www.stateofinfection.com
www.facebook.com/stateofinfection
https://twitter.com/Zom_Novel_Frey
http://stateofinfection.wordpress.com


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Spotlight on Danger by Dalliance by Tina Christopher

Danger by DallianceTina Christopher
Genre: historic erotic romance with steampunk elements
Publisher: Ellora’s Cave
Date of Publication: 16th April 2014
ISBN: 9781419991783ASIN:
Word Count: 70,000
Book Description:
Sequel to Rescue by Ruin.
Sarah Rigdon is desperate. Penniless with taxes due, she can either beg mercy from the ruthless tax collector or turn to the last man she wants to ask for help. Archer Latimer stirs desires no proper lady would ever admit to. Though their meetings always end in quarrels, she can’t deny the heat between them. When he agrees to help, Sarah thinks her luck has turned. But she should have known nothing with Archer is ever easy.
Archer and his lover Warren Dorvee have spent years searching for the right woman to complete their family. Both believe luscious Sarah is the one and now have a chance to pursue her. After all, the price of Archer’s help is for Sarah to pose for Warren’s latest painting. Nude.
But trust has to be earned and a crisis in London threatens their love. The three must navigate through lust, lies and secrets or risk being torn apart forever.
Inside Scoop: Contains m/m, GLBT and ménage.
A Romantica® historical erotic romance from Ellora’s Cave


By reading any further, you are stating that you are at least 18 years of age. If you are under the age of 18, please exit this site.
An Excerpt From: DANGER BY DALLIANCECopyright © TINA CHRISTOPHER, 2014All Rights Reserved, Ellora's Cave Publishing, Inc.
Archer raised his brow. He had no idea what he’d expected from Miss Sarah Rigdon, but a demand for an early royalty payment wasn’t it. Her father had improved on Archer’s own patent for a multilevel cog, facilitating the cogs ability to rotate in all directions. This enabled the cogs in the MENV, a Multiple Environment Navigation Vehicle, to run more smoothly. It was an easy modification, but Archer would never take another inventor’s idea without making due payment.For the last two years, while he’d developed the MENV, he’d paid Rigdon royalties for the use of his cog. And now his daughter, the woman who for two years had teased his senses and driven him a little crazy, wanted him to pay early.And examine her father’s latest invention.He bounced his knee, energy sparked by her presence flowing through him.The invention was intriguing. The Bank of England had been struggling with an increased influx of false notes in the London area for months. It perturbed him that Miss Rigdon knew about this situation. The parties involved had worked very hard to ensure the general public didn’t find out and panic. Paper money would grow worthless and the run on gold could topple their economy.Mr. Rigdon’s machine was timely indeed. Unfortunately his inventions tended to be big on ideas and rather limited in the execution. Going by Sarah’s expression she didn’t believe in it either.He would add it to his to-do list, but there were a number of projects more important than trying to fix the unfixable.Archer leaned back and crossed his legs, tapping his fingers against his knee. “Why would I pay your father’s annual royalties early?”A flush darkened her cheeks. For a second, desperation flickered in her eyes, but it was gone too quickly for him to be sure.“Because I asked you to.”“What do you need the money for?”“That would be none of your business.”“On the contrary, Miss Rigdon, it is very much my business.” She tilted her chin in that challenging manner of hers.His temper flamed. It was bad enough that the little virgin and her voluptuous curves made him hard as a rock as soon as she walked into a room. She might look demure and meek, but deep inside her he sensed a passion that would set the world on fire if she ever released it.Only he was sure she’d never done so.Not that he ever got the opportunity to find out. She always looked at him as if he wasn’t worth her time, as if speaking to him was a strenuous task, and when he tried to engage her she excused herself within minutes.And now she was asking him for a favor and still wouldn’t give an inch. Not this time. “Miss Rigdon?” She huffed. “All right, I require a new wardrobe.” He tilted his head. “A new wardrobe?”She studied the wall over his shoulders and nodded.Archer didn’t believe her. Sarah Rigdon was not the type of woman who would come to him asking for money for something as frivolous as new clothes. Hell, most of the time she was buried under so many layers she probably had enough clothes to last a lifetime. “Do you seriously expect me to believe you need more clothes?” He gestured at the three layers that covered her. “You appear to be wearing enough clothes to cover yourself and three more people.”She narrowed her gaze. Her nostrils flared. “Will you do it or not?”He shrugged. “I don’t know. What are you willing to do in exchange?”She leaned forward and rested her palms on his desk. A couple of her fingertips appeared slightly stained. He narrowed his gaze. Stained by ink. The smears did not match the ones he had on his fingers from writing and working on his drawings.Printer’s ink, not writing ink.“What in God’s name do you expect me to do?”Her tone of voice grated on his nerves. “If you were anyone else I would say pose for my friend, but I cannot see you being a model.”She came half out of her chair. “And why on earth not? It is not exactly challenging to stand or sit while someone paints you.”“Really?” He mirrored her pose and leaned forward until they were only a few inches apart. “Well then, if it is so easy let’s make this the condition for the early payment.”“All right.”Her easy acceptance drove him crazy. He still didn’t know why she needed the money. “And you will pose nude.”She jerked back and straightened. “What?”Here we are. Now she would have to tell him why she really needed the money and he could assist her with whatever her problem was.She turned sheet white. Panic glimmered in her eyes before she looked down and tugged on her cuffs.Archer felt a little nauseated. It had not been his intention to scare her. He sat back down and waited for her surrender.
“All right.”

About the Author:
Tina Christopher spent her early years flitting across the Channel between Germany and England. After touring the world extensively, she finally laid down roots in Toronto. And while Canada’s winters may be frigid, Tina’s characters are anything but!
Like most writers, Tina often hears voices in her head, but it took the encouragement of an editor friend before she actually put fingers to keyboard.
While those first stories will never see the light of day, she’s subsequently honed her craft and learned to build not just worlds, but entire galaxies. Her first book from Ellora’s Cave features a galaxy filled with Vampires, Humans and angel-like aliens called Naema.
When not imagining far away worlds and scorching hot encounters, Tina can be found on her sofa working through her never-ending TBR pile or venturing into the real world—whether to a nearby café or a passport-required destination. She’s a member of the RWA’s Toronto chapter. Her two degrees in environmental conservation, majoring in large animal studies, come in handy when wrestling with supernatural beasties.
Website http://tinachristopherauthor.com/
Twitter https://twitter.com/TinaChristopher
Facebook https://www.facebook.com/pages/Tina-Christopher/265041286866833
Goodreads https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5394980.Tina_Christopher
Pinterest http://www.pinterest.com/tinachristopher/
Instagram http://instagram.com/tinachristopher7






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