Vanessa Booke's Blog, page 4

Drawn to You: Volume 1 (The Prequel) is LIVE on AMAZON.

Hi lovelies,

I’m EXCITED to announce that Drawn to You: Volume 1 (The Prequel) is LIVE on AMAZON. I will post the links for B&N as soon as I have them up. :)

You can 1-click it here:

US AMAZON —-> http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00S48ZRXK

UK AMAZON —-> http://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/B00S48ZRXK

CA AMAZON —-> http://www.amazon.ca/gp/product/B00S48ZRXK

Drawn to You: Volume 1 – Prologue

Coming January 10, 2015

PROLOGUE

- Three years ago -

It’s a needy moan that startles me awake. The soft sound of her voice vibrates through the air ventilation and into my room. My eyes flicker open and I stare into the darkness of my bedroom. It’s happening again. He’s down there with another one. I hold my breath as I strain to hear their voices. My heart races as their passionate cries fill me with a lustful warmth, and I flush at the wicked thoughts that flood my mind. Thoughts of him touching me. Thoughts of him spreading me open and taking me from behind. Thoughts of me being the naked woman entangled in his sheets.

A gasping voice calls out his name. Tristan! I hear his deep, throaty roar and the sound of her moan desperate for release. This isn’t the first time I’ve heard him take a woman down to his room. There have been many nights that I’ve lain here, wondering what it must be like to be on the other side of that vent. I shouldn’t be having sexual fantasies about Tristan. He’s not my older brother by blood, but he was adopted into our family two years ago.

I turn over, trying my best to go back to sleep, but their voices draw me in, and before I realize it, I’m panting with them. I grow wet at the touch of my nail gliding across my clit. If he only knew how many times I’ve climaxed to the sound of him fucking. I close my eyes and imagine his hands inside me, pressing up against me and rubbing me at a slow, torturous pace. I arch at the warm sensation that starts at my center and builds its way up. My nipples harden as I roll one of them through my fingers.

I’m so close. After several minutes pass, my hand grows tired. Frustration consumes me as the image of Tristan touching me dissipates. I lie there annoyed at the lack of release in my life. Most of my high school friends lost their virginity long ago, but I’m still stuck with mine. My best friend has reassured me that there’s no need to rush into anything, but when everyone around you is doing it, it makes me wonder if she’s just saying it because she feels bad.

After several minutes of tossing and turning, and doing my best to drown out the sound with my pillow, I muster the courage to get out of bed and walk down the long set of stairs to Tristan’s bedroom. I’ve always wondered why he chose to take one of the bedrooms downstairs. They’re usually reserved for guests. From the bottom step, I spot a cascade of light seeping in from his bedroom door.

The scene before me sends a rush of heat straight to my center. I clench in arousal at the sight of Tristan’s long, muscular frame kneeling between two lovely legs adorned around his shoulders. I’ve never seen anything like it. I can’t see her face but I hear the way her voice grows tight with each lick. Her body trembles as he kneels back and inserts two long fingers inside of her. I can feel myself dripping at the sound of his digits sliding in and out of her quickly.

I’m so lost in the haze of it all that I don’t realize I’ve moaned out loud. Tristan stops and turns on his knee. His hazel eyes grow wide at the sight of me standing there watching the intimate session between two lovers. His lips part as if he’s about to speak, but he says nothing. Embarrassed at being caught, I turn and flee from his watchful eyes. They burn into my mind, threatening to unravel me.

I’m halfway up the stairs when I feel someone grab at my heel. I turn and nearly tumble down, but warm hands are there to catch me. Despite the overwhelming darkness of the house, I know it’s Tristan. His fingers are slightly calloused from the constant pressure of the drawing pencil in his hand. I’d recognize those hands anywhere. His body hovers slightly over mine as he stares down at me. I can feel the cold steps of the stairs digging into my back.

For a moment, the only sound I hear is the ragged breath that flows in and out of his shallow gulps. My breath hitches as I watch the reflection of the moonlight catch his face. His hair is ruffled into a mess and there’s a strong shadow of facial hair spread across his jaw and cheekbones and around his lips. I subconsciously reach out and touch his face. His skin burns beneath my fingers. If it wasn’t for what I just saw, I would be worried that he’s getting sick.

Although the darkness of the house cloaks his frame, I know he’s fully nude. In his haste to catch me, he must’ve forgot to cover up. It isn’t until I feel his erection pressing against my stomach that I catch a strange shift in the air between us. Without a word, Tristan positions himself between my legs. The world slows to a halt as his hand glides up my nightie. His warm fingers slide across me, leaving a trail of heat behind them. I tremble at the sensation. It’s like nothing I’ve ever imagined. It’s better. I feel him watching me as he pushes up the soft fabric of my nightgown and positions himself at the opening of my center. I writhe against him as he rubs his cock at my opening.

I moan, and in one quick movement his fingers wrap around the front of my mouth. He stops for a moment, listening for the slightest movement upstairs. My frantic thoughts return to the memory of the woman whose legs were wrapped around his shoulders only moments earlier. Where is she?

Tristan loosens his hold on my mouth and leans in, letting out a harsh whisper against my ear. “You’re so fucking wet.”

It’s the first and only words out of his mouth before I feel him thrust inside me. A sharp pressure hits me and I immediately push back against him. This is what my friend Ceci had warned me about. Tristan slows to a stop as he sees discomfort etched across my face. I flush as concern and then disbelief fills his.

“Fuck,” he says, gritting his teeth. Without another word, Tristan pulls out, leaving me shivering against the stairs. The sudden shift in temperature from his warm body leaves me aching for him to envelop me once again.

“Em, I didn’t know…”

His words crash over me and I’m left with a devastating feeling of regret. In one thoughtless decision, we’ve changed everything between us.

You.

Dear fans,

This Thanksgiving wouldn’t be as wonderful as it is without you. You are a tremendous blessing and no author ever says that enough. Without you, my dreams would still be scribbles in a notebook, Nicholas & Rebecca would still be just a fantasy running through my head and the doubt of how much I might possibly suck at writing, would still be left hanging over me.

Thank you for supporting me and for a taking a chance on a new author.

Today, I am most grateful for you.

Love,

Vanessa

Coming soon!

Hi lovely readers,

Volume 1 of Drawn to You will be coming January 10th. This new story will be about Tristan Knight and Emily StoneHaven. For those of you who don’t remember, Tristan is Nicholas StoneHaven’s best friend from Bound to You. ;)

I hope you are all ready to see a different side of our lovely, yet mysterious Tristan Knight.

I also wanted to mention that all of you Nicholas fans are going to be in for a lovely surprise. Our lovely blond god will make some appearances throughout this serial and you may even see Rebecca. ;)

P.S. I am having a release day celebration if you’d like to go —-> Join Me!

Synopsis: Your whole world can change in a single moment.

A reckless moment where you let go of your inhibitions and you lose control. I pride myself on never losing control, but somehow, I did with her. I let my desire overtake me, and I took a bite of that forbidden fruit that stood in front of me in nothing but a nightie. I fucked my best friend’s little sister, and I regretted it the moment I felt her wrapped around me. Not because it felt bad. No, because, since that moment, nothing has ever felt so right…

My name is Tristan Knight and I’m not your average New York millionaire. In fact, there’s nothing average about me. I was born in the projects, and I lived there up until the day I was adopted. My past is a distant memory of fuck-ups and bad luck.

The only thing that kept me from ending up like everyone else on the street was the StoneHaven family. When I met them, I was determined to hate them all. They represented everything I didn’t have. Power. Wealth. Control.

At least, that’s what I used to think.

Now, as time goes on, I find myself falling in love with their shattered lives… falling in love with the one thing I can’t have. Her. Emily StoneHaven.

I can never be the knight in shining armor I know she wants, but I’ve already tasted her—and now, I can’t stop this insatiable desire to be everything she needs.

Drawn to You: Volume 1 is coming December 15th!

Hi lovely readers,

Volume 1 of Drawn to You will be coming December 15th. This new story will be about Tristan Knight and Emily StoneHaven. For those of you who don’t remember, Tristan is Nicholas StoneHaven’s best friend from Bound to You. ;)

I hope you are all ready to see a different side of our lovely, yet mysterious Tristan Knight.

I also wanted to mention that all of you Nicholas fans are going to be in for a lovely surprise. Our lovely blond god will make some appearances throughout this serial and you may even see Rebecca. ;)

P.S. I am having a release day celebration if you’d like to go —-> Join Me!

Synopsis: Your whole world can change in a single moment.

A reckless moment where you let go of your inhibitions and you lose control. I pride myself on never losing control, but somehow, I did with her. I let my desire overtake me, and I took a bite of that forbidden fruit that stood in front of me in nothing but a nightie. I fucked my best friend’s little sister, and I regretted it the moment I felt her wrapped around me. Not because it felt bad. No, because, since that moment, nothing has ever felt so right…

My name is Tristan Knight and I’m not your average New York millionaire. In fact, there’s nothing average about me. I was born in the projects, and I lived there up until the day I was adopted. My past is a distant memory of fuck-ups and bad luck.

The only thing that kept me from ending up like everyone else on the street was the StoneHaven family. When I met them, I was determined to hate them all. They represented everything I didn’t have. Power. Wealth. Control.

At least, that’s what I used to think.

Now, as time goes on, I find myself falling in love with their shattered lives… falling in love with the one thing I can’t have. Her. Emily StoneHaven.

I can never be the knight in shining armor I know she wants, but I’ve already tasted her—and now, I can’t stop this insatiable desire to be everything she needs.

Cover reveal: Bound to You: Volume 4

Hey lovely fans,

I just wanted to update you guys with the cover for Volume 4 of Bound to You! If you haven’t heard, I will be releasing a fourth volume sometime in early 2015. Right now, I’m working on Drawn to You: Volume 1 & 2 and I hope to release the first volume sometime in November or December. :)

I hope you guys love the cover for Bound to You: Volume 4.

Add it to your TBR list —-> Goodreads.

Gretel: A retelling of Hansel & Gretel.

With Halloween quickly approaching, I thought it would be fun to share a short story I wrote several years ago. It’s not a sexy one, but I think you’ll still enjoy it.

It is forbidden to enter the forest outside our village; few have gone and none have returned. The woods beyond our house are deep and encrusted with thorns the size of daggers. Rumors have spread of something beyond the grove, of life beyond, but village leaders are quick to quash them, passing them off as lies. As the days grow old, our village grows weaker, hungrier. Each morning our stepmother sends us to pick flowers in the fields, while she and our father gorge themselves on the little food that remains. I have grown tired and weak.

I stare into the dark woodlands, searching for some sort of hope.

“Let’s go home, Gretel, it will be night soon.”

Hansel’s voice breaks my concentration.

“They wouldn’t miss us.” The statement rolls off my tongue with ease. I turn to Hansel, who stares back at me, his features in obvious confusion.

“Don’t start again, Gretel. Father loves us!” he exclaims.

“Loves us? What kind of father lets his woman fill herself while his children starve?”

“Come, Gretel,” he says as he extends his hand.

The day’s light is fleeting; soon the forest will be alive with the sounds of wolves howling and owls hooting into the night. My eyes trace up toward my brother’s face. The sun cascades a shadow against his hollow cheekbones giving him a ghostly appearance. Despite his stoic expression, I know Hansel is disappointed in father too.

I wrap my hand in his, the basket of flowers in the other.

“We could run away.”

I say nothing else hoping my words will sink in.

We walk down the grassy slope of the hill that leads towards home. From a distance, our father’s cottage looks ideal with its walls enveloped in green cinnamon vines and bright neon shades of morning glory. Smoke streams out from the chimney, and the smell of pork lingers in the air. I turn towards Hansel. I am shocked; pork is rarity within our village, which only the rich can afford such luxury. Hansel squeezes my hand in reassurance, but something inside me screams out something’s wrong.

Leona greets us at the door in a surprisingly well mood. It is strange compared to the dismal atmosphere she has accustomed us to. Our father sits at the supper table, his head in his hands; an untouched bowl of steaming soup sits in front of him.

The cottage looks different from when we left this morning. The windows are draped in shades of crimson satin, and a large Persian rug lies in front of the fireplace across the floor. On the fire spit sits a large hog roasting in the flames. I lick my lips at the site of fat dripping off of the pork. I can almost taste the warm, smoky flavor of it in my mouth.

Hansel is the first to speak.

“Father, what’s going on? Why is there a pig on the fire and new shades on the windows?”

The sound of Hansel’s voice stirs my father, but his eyes stay down at his hands. Leona’s voice fills the room.

“Your father and I have wonderful news for both of you,” she says, smiling.

The sight of her grin causes me uneasiness I feel my body pulling me towards the door. The need to escape surges through me, but Leona quickly blocks my way.

Hansel stares at her curiously.

“What is it stepmother?” He asks.

“Your father has found you work in the mines, and your sister a suitable husband.”

My mouth drops. Mines? Husband? The news hits me hard, nearly knocking me off balance. Our father is abandoning us, trading us for goods like some back alley deal.

In a hushed voice I ask, “Is it true, father?”

I watch his cheeks color in embarrassment, but still he says nothing. Hansel puts one arm around my shoulder.

“As you wish father,” he whispers, lowering his head.

Hansel’s words slice through me, but before the tears can flow, he grabs my hand and we head toward our room.

Several hours pass and the house sits eerily silent.

Hansel sits quietly on his bed as he carves a sparrow out of wood with his knife. He hasn’t said one word since earlier, but I think deep down inside he is also hoping to hear the knock of our father’s hand on our door.

Part of me wants to scream at Hansel for giving in so easily to Father and Leona’s wishes. The life of a miner is no life at all. It’s backbreaking work until the day you die. What kind of life could there be for me? I will be forced to marry a man I don’t know and worst yet, a man I don’t love. I can feel the panic rise in my chest. Tomorrow, I will lose my father and my brother. Tomorrow, I will be sent to a town I don’t know, with people I don’t love. Outside, the sound of wolves howling echoes in the wind.

Like them, I only wish to be free.

***

I am awoken from my dreamless sleep by cold hands shaking me.

“Gretel, get up!” Hansel says.

My eyes flap open my vision is still blurry from sleep.

“Hansel? What is it?”

“We’re leaving, pack your things.”

Suddenly I am wide-awake and sitting up in my bed.

“Where are we going?”

“Into the woodlands.”

I stare at Hansel in shock.

“Really?”

Hansel turns towards me as he ties his bootstraps.

“I’ve thought about what you said the other day near the entrance of the woods, and I’ve decided that I’d rather risk the unknown than work in the mines the rest of my life and never see my twin sister ever again.”

My delight at his words consumes me and I can’t help but smile. It sounds silly, but I often forget that Hansel and I are twins. We look and act nothing alike, where I lack patience, skills and definition he makes for threefold. His eyes are green and mine blue. His hair is blonde where mine is black. We are as night and day.

I nod in agreement. I watch as Hansel packs a loaf of bread in his satchel. The sight of it makes my stomach ache. Our refusal to eat the pork last night was a statement to our father that had gone unnoticed. It’s been two days since we’ve last eaten.

My stomach rumbles.

“As soon as we’ve made some distance we’ll stop and eat,” Hansel says.

He smiles as me weakly, I know he is hungry as well, but his statement fills me with relief, for now.

Outside, the air has chilled, and light rain has begun to fall. I shiver, partly cold and partly from anticipation. Hansel hands me one of Leona’s coats. I grimace at the smell of her perfume on me.

“It will keep you warm, Gretel,” he says as if reading my thoughts.

We walk up the grassy hills away from our home one last time. At the top, I turn to catch a glimpse of it once more. Against the backdrop of the rising sun, our home looks like a quaint cottage engulfed in vibrant hues of fuchsia and green.

Soon our father will wake to our empty beds.

Warm tears flow down my cheek, and I wipe them away with my sleeve. Deep down I know I shouldn’t cry, I should be strong like Hansel, but the tears come anyway. Hansel rests his hand on my shoulder.

“We need to go before they wake,” he says softly.

“I know,” I say, wiping again at my cheeks.

I force myself to turn away and we set off towards the woods.

As we stand at the threshold of the woods, I can’t help but notice how dark and ominous they seem despite the rising sun.

“Are you ready?” I ask, unsure of myself.

Hansel doesn’t answer. He simply pulls his knife from his waist belt, and together we enter the woods.

We walk for what seems like miles upon miles. Every tree, every stone, and every trail looks the same. My lips are chapped from the cold breeze, and my legs are weary from walking. Hansel tosses me a piece of bread, and I devour it in one gulp. It settles in my stomach like a brick.

Hansel stops abruptly, causing me to walk right into him.

Startled and confused I ask, “What’s wrong?”

“We’re walking in circles.”

“What do you mean?”

Hansel turns toward me and points up to a bird in the tree. “See that owl?”

I look more closely at it, waiting for it to give me some kind of clue.

“Yes…”

“It’s the same owl, on the same tree, and we’ve passed it now about six times.”

“What? Hansel, I’m sure there’s lots of owls in these woods.”

“Yes, but this owl is the same one I’ve seen over and over,” he says.

“You’re being silly, brother,” I laugh.

Suddenly, the owl lets out a hoot and shoots through the top of the trees, flying away to somewhere unknown. A rush of wind follows the bird’s direction, flowing through the trees, causing them to sway violently. Hard rainfall pours down from the grey clouds that loom above.

“We have to find shelter.” I scream, reaching out and grabbing Hansel’s hand as we run. Every inch of the forest around us looks the same.

We stop below a large oak tree just for a moment to catch our breath. Hansel tries to say something, but his voice is drowned out by the sound of the rainfall. Leona’s coat is soaked and heavy with water, making it harder to run. I slip it off, letting it fall to the ground. As I turn my attention back to Hansel, something catches my eye.

It’s a cottage. Off in the distance I can see the smoke coming from its chimney. I smile, overjoyed by the thought of shelter. I point towards it, and Hansel smiles in surprise. We spare no time and race off towards it. My lungs ache, but I don’t stop until it’s only a few feet away.

Hansel trails behind me and nearly knocks me over as he catches up.

The house is old and frail looking, but the scent of cinnamon and sugar seeping out is inviting. Is it possible that someone could live here? Life outside the village? In the woods?

Hansel steps closer and peers in through the fogged windows. Inside sits a feast of cookies, muffins, brownies, and sweet bread. It is sugar heaven. We lean our faces against the glass window, devouring the sweets with our eyes.

“Who do you think lives here?” I ask Hansel.

I watch as he stares into the darkness around us, searching for clues. I point to a hatchet that sits gleaming in the moonlight, embedded into an old tree trunk. The trunk sits rotting in the rain.

“A woodcutter?” Hansel suggests.

“Like Father, Perhaps?”

Our limbs quake, numb from the cold night. The sudden sound of the cottage door opening and the shrill of an old women’s voice startles us as it pierces the air.

“Who’s there?” She cries as she waves her lantern in front of her.

Hansel steps forward into her view.

“My sister and I have been traveling for miles. We need food and shelter, but only for the night.”

The old woman’s eyes scan from Hansel to me, and then into the darkness.

“Are you traveling alone?” She inquiries.

“Yes,” I reply.

Her question makes me uneasy.

She smiles, “Well, come in. You two must be freezing! Hurry along now. Come in, come in.”

She ushers us into her house. Adorned in old furniture and porcelain plates with drawings of cats.

The old woman is frail looking, with grey, wiry hair that sits beneath her bonnet, and withered hands that are thin to the bone.

“You both must be starving! Please, come sit and eat.” She sets plates on the kitchen table.

Hansel and I turn towards one another, shocked by her offer. The old woman continues to set utensils on the table with two glasses. She looks up for a moment and then smiles. I cringe slightly at the sight of her sharp, misshapen teeth.

“Don’t be shy, eat up.”

I stare down at the pile of sweets before me. Their aroma is intoxicating. Hansel picks up a piece of sweet bread and shoves it in his mouth. I watch as his face glows in pleasure at the taste of butter and sugar. I reach out for a muffin and peel away the wax paper surrounding it. As I bite in, my tongue tingles at the taste of small blueberries dancing in my mouth. The old woman comes over and pours a red liquid into our cups. Hansel picks up another piece of sweet bread and plunges it into his mouth. We repeat our cycle until our bellies are full and we can no longer take it. A wave of sleepiness washes over me as the old woman shows us to our rooms. Hansel is to sleep downstairs while I sleep upstairs in the guest room. In bed, I breathe easily at the thought of a brighter tomorrow, and soon my thoughts dissipate as I drift into sleep.

***

I wake to the sound of pans clanking against one another. My vision blurs into focus as I stare at the room around me. Light streams in from the window, and I am relieved to see that the weather is fair. I run downstairs to find the old woman standing over a boiling pot in the fire. Hansel is nowhere to be found. The old woman turns and beckons me to sit at the table.

“Where is my brother? I ask.

“Hansel? Oh he’s out cutting wood for the fire,” she explains.

After several hours and no sign of Hansel, I decide to look for him, but before I can go the old woman stops me.

“Gretel, would you mind grabbing that bag of flour for me.” She says as she points over to the walk-in pantry.

“Of course not.”

As I grab the bag of flour from the top shelf, the old woman closes the door. The lock clicks closing me inside. I am caught off guard by her movement and am left bewildered. Panic fills me as I pound on the door for her to let me out.

Outside I can hear her laughing as she sings, “tonight I will feast on your bones.”

Suddenly Hansel’s voice echoes through the cottage. I peek through the cracks of the pantry door. He stands at the doorway, his arms filled with wood. The old woman points toward the fireplace, and Hansel kneels down to place the wood in the fire. As he kneels, the old woman grabs a pan and approaches Hansel’s back.

“Hansel, watch out! I scream as I pound on the door.

Hansel turns his head slightly towards the pantry, and then the sound of the pan hitting his skull fills my ears. The old woman stands over Hansel as blood seeps out from the back of his head.

Hot tears slide down my face as I whimper at the sight of my brother’s crumpled body. The old woman turns and heads upstairs. Her footsteps creaked across the flood boards. I stare at the pantry around me looking for something to help me get out. My only option is the window. I grab a can from the shelves and propel it towards the window. The glass breaks instantly. I hear a shrill cry from the old woman as she makes her way through the house. She knows what I’m doing. I climb the shelves of the pantry and crawl through the window. The fall is short, but the force of my body hitting the ground is hard on my legs. I stagger toward the front of the cottage, peeking to make sure the old woman doesn’t see me. She wobbles down the stairs and toward the pantry. At the corner of my eye, I see the red hatchet still embedded in the rotting tree trunk. I run toward it and pull it from the trunk.

As I run back toward the cottage, I can see as the old woman opens the pantry door. She stares at the broken glass from the window. As she turns, I meet her gaze at the doorway. Her eerie smile is haunting as she advances toward me. I let the hatchet slide towards my fingers and lift it ready to strike her. Hansel’s body still lays crumpled on the floor, a pool of blood beneath him. The old women glances down toward Hansel and then back at me.

“He’ll make a wonderful beef stew,” She says as she licks her lips.

Rage fills me and as the old woman flings herself at me. I swing the hatchet. Warm blood sprays out as I make contact with her throat. Her screams are muffled by the gaping hole that’s replaced her vocal cords. Her death is quick, but not painless. I drive the hatchet into her head over and over until blood covers me like war paint.

I drop my weapon and reach out for Hansel. As I turn him over I realize he isn’t breathing. His cheeks have lost their warmth. I shake him, but it’s no use. The blow to the head was enough.

Today, I lost my brother.

I rise from the floor, hatchet in hand my cheeks stained with tears. I tell myself I will continue our journey for the two of us.

***

I buried him beneath a tree in the woods last night, and as I looked up into the night sky, I saw the same owl from two days ago staring down at me.

I smiled it was then that I knew that my brother is smiling down at me too.

My journey to the other side is still long, but I know I can make it.

I am the woodcutter’s daughter.

Announcement – Dead Run

Dear lovelies,

This is probably one of the hardest decisions I’ve had to make in a long time and even as I write this I’m dreading what I’m about to say…

Despite my previous intentions to publish Dead Run on the 31st, I will be postponing its publication indefinitely. I know that some of you will be very upset by this and I am sorry to disappoint those of you who are, but this decision was not made lightly.

For the past year, I’ve been struggling to fix this manuscript. I’ve been cutting and re-writing it only to realize that perhaps I’m trying to revive something that shouldn’t be revived. When I started writing Dead Run years ago, I was in a very dark place in my life and it was the perfect outlet for my feelings. I had a deep passion for this story because it was dark, dreary, and filled with drama and suspense. Sadly, now the more I combed through it, the more distance I feel from it. I’ve realized that the person who wrote this story several years ago, isn’t the same person who published Bound to You. While I still love dark & dreary things, my writing has really changed from what it used to be and more importantly, so has my life.

I hope those of you who’ve been waiting for this story will not be too disappointed. I announced a release date for Dead Run because I wanted to save this story for the fans who’ve read pieces of it, but I can’t publish it knowing that I’ll be leaving fans on a cliffhanger for a second or third book that won’t be written. I hope that those of you who were waiting will forgive me for jumping the gun and getting your hopes up. To be honest, I was fully committed to publishing Dead Run. In fact, I even booked a blog tour that I recently cancelled.

Could things change in the future? I honestly don’t think so. At this point, I plan on focusing my writing on the Millionaire’s Row series and several other erotica stories. Again, I know this may be frustrating to some of you but I hope that you will be supportive. It definitely wasn’t easy letting go of this story.

Thank you for being amazing fans.

Vanessa Booke

The Bound to You cover reveal!

Here is the lovely cover for the combined & paperback version of Bound to You. If you haven’t read Bound to You, you can now read all three volumes in one combined ebook. Paperbacks will be available soon. :)

B&N: http://goo.gl/gP6Pud
Amazon: http://goo.gl/xbJXFT
iBooks: Coming soon.
Kobo: Coming soon.



Now for my special announcement…

I have had so many readers reach out to me asking for a fourth volume of Bound to You and I know it’s because I left many of you with some unanswered questions, but I want you to know that I always planned on answering them. I just had a different idea of how I was going to go about it.

There is a story to be told and there are definitely questions to be answered. I could write Nicholas & Rebecca’s happily ever after into Drawn to You, but I feel that it would be unfair to Tristan & Emily. They have an amazing story and I don’t want to take away from that.

So, after almost a month of thinking about what I wanted to do and what readers would enjoy the most, I decided that I need to write a fourth volume. For you, for me, for Rebecca and Nicholas. You will be seeing more of them and I hope that’s good news for you all.

So I can guess that your next questions is when? When will you see Rebecca & Nicholas again?

The short answer is hopefully soon. The long answer is…

I’m thinking of releasing Volume 4 after Drawn to You. The timeline for Tristan & Emily’s story almost runs parallel to Nicholas & Rebecca’s. If I release Volume 4 before Drawn to You, I think it would spoil some interesting scenes for readers.

With that said, nothing is set in stone so things can change. But don’t worry, you will be reading more from me this year. ;)

Lastly, I want to thank you guys for being so supportive. It’s an indescribable feeling to know that there are so many readers out there that enjoy my writing. It has really helped me through moments where I’ve doubted myself. I can’t thank you enough for helping make my dreams come true. I’ve always wanted to be a published writer and you guys helped me make that happen. Thank you again!

Xx,

Vanessa Booke

The Bound to You cover reveal & a special announcement!

Here is the lovely cover for the combined & paperback version of Bound to You. If you haven’t read Bound to You, you can now read all three volumes in one combined ebook. Paperbacks will be available soon. :)

B&N: http://goo.gl/gP6Pud
Amazon: http://goo.gl/xbJXFT
iBooks: Coming soon.
Kobo: Coming soon.



Now for my special announcement…

I have had so many readers reach out to me asking for a fourth volume of Bound to You and I know it’s because I left many of you with some unanswered questions, but I want you to know that I always planned on answering them. I just had a different idea of how I was going to go about it.

There is a story to be told and there are definitely questions to be answered. I could write Nicholas & Rebecca’s happily ever after into Drawn to You, but I feel that it would be unfair to Tristan & Emily. They have an amazing story and I don’t want to take away from that.

So, after almost a month of thinking about what I wanted to do and what readers would enjoy the most, I decided that I need to write a fourth volume. For you, for me, for Rebecca and Nicholas. You will be seeing more of them and I hope that’s good news for you all.

So I can guess that your next questions is when? When will you see Rebecca & Nicholas again?

The short answer is hopefully soon. The long answer is…

I’m thinking of releasing Volume 4 after Drawn to You. The timeline for Tristan & Emily’s story almost runs parallel to Nicholas & Rebecca’s. If I release Volume 4 before Drawn to You, I think it would spoil some interesting scenes for readers.

With that said, nothing is set in stone so things can change. But don’t worry, you will be reading more from me this year. ;)

Lastly, I want to thank you guys for being so supportive. It’s an indescribable feeling to know that there are so many readers out there that enjoy my writing. It has really helped me through moments where I’ve doubted myself. I can’t thank you enough for helping make my dreams come true. I’ve always wanted to be a published writer and you guys helped me make that happen. Thank you again!

Xx,

Vanessa Booke