A.C. James's Blog, page 15
September 10, 2013
50 Authors (including yours truly) All in One Barnes and Noble 9/25
Two weeks from today I’ll be at the B & N in Easton, PA on September 25 at 7 pm. The address—Southmont Center, 4445 Southmont Way, Easton, PA 18045, 610-515-0376.
It’ll be huge! I’ll be there selling and signing copies of Cursed Ever After along with various local authors from multiple genres.
They’ll be authors of erotic romance, woman’s literary fiction, thrillers, mysteries, children’s, YA, memoirs, and so many books it’ll make your head spin.
Here are a few authors that I know will be in attendance:
Cris Anson writes wicked hot erotic romance for Ellora’s Cave and is best known for her popular Dance series and Mercy series. She writes contemporary and historical erotic romance. If you like the steamy stuff, you’ll love her books. Dance of the Seven Veils and Punishment and Mercy are a must for any romance reader.
Kathleen Coddington—author of steamy erotic romance for Ellora’s Cave. Paranormal and historical are the subgenres of her books. Her historical romances are well researched with accurate details and her entertaining stories will pull at your heart strings. Palace of Dreams and Witch Ball are among fan favorites but any of her books would make a wonderful addition to your bookshelf or e-reader.
Autumn Jordon is an award-winning author, who writes contemporary, romantic comedy, and romantic suspense. Whether sweet or steamy, all her books come highly recommended. His Witness to Evil and In the Presence of Evil should be on your to be read list.
Stephanie Julian writes for Ellora’s Cave and Berkley. Her popular Salon Games series has a new release coming out in September just in time for the book signing. Check out No Reservations. Her paranormal erotic romance books Edge of Moonlight and Kiss of Moonlight with Ellora’s Cave are super-hot and will make your heart race.
Kathy Kulig—author of BDSM and Paranormal Erotic Romance—will be joining these ladies with Desert of the Damned (Book 1 in the Demons in Exile series) and Damned and Desired (Book 2) in print and also Something Wicked This Way Comes, Vol I Anthology which was an Amazon best seller. She’ll also have postcards and bookmarks for Damned and Defiant (Book 3) that you can have signed and bring to the cash register for an e-book download. If you’re looking for a read Beyond Your Darkest Desires, then try out any of her books.
A.C. James(Yup, that’s me) is an indie author of erotic paranormal romance and erotica featuring BDSM. I’ll be there with print copies of my erotica anthology Cursed Ever After that you can buy and have signed. And I’ll also have bookmarks for Cursed Ever After and Eternal Ever After, its full length erotic paranormal romance sequel which will be available in December—just in time for the holidays.
So stop in and say hello!
September 9, 2013
Guest Blog: My Idea of The Difference Between Erotica and Erotic Romance
By Laurel Cremant
How hot do you like your romance? I admit to leaning more on the spicy side, myself. However, heat comes in different intensities, so how as a reader do you differentiate between a smokey but mild chipotle and a red hot chilli pepper? The easy answer used to be a simple choice between Erotic Romance and Erotica, but over the last few years a strange blurring of lines has occured. Elements that used to be found only in Erotica have danced their way into Erotic Romance. So what’s a heat loving reader to do? What is the difference between Erotica and Erotic Romance?
In the past, I could peruse bookshelves or click around online bookstores, and based on a book cover and certain tags I could determine whether I was getting Erotica or Erotic Romance. Anal sex, bondage, threesomes, moresomes? All Erotica. Because that was just plain kinky right? Dirty words, explicit language, oral sex? Obviously Erotic Romance…not anymore. The difference between these two genres no longer relies on “naughty elements”. It relies on one simple word…romance.
Erotic romance stories, no matter what elements an author chooses to include, hinge completely on romance. Romance is so much the center of the book, that when it is removed from the story, the entire plot falls apart. Erotica on the other hand doesn’t depend on romance at all. Erotica stories hinge on the characters sexual exploration. With erotica, a happily ever after (HEA) is not a requirement, not even a happy for now (HFN).
Over the years online and brick and mortar bookstores have gotten better at categorizing books. However, with the recent popularity of books like the Fifty Shades trilogy (an erotic romance, not erotica series) and the annoying (and highly inaccurate) term “mommy porn”, I’ve been blind sided a few times, after downloading an Erotic Romance book, only to realize after a few chapters that it is an Erotica book. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy a good Erotica novel. I actually find it one of the most difficult and skill intensive genres to work in. However, there is nothing I enjoy better than a good romance. I want a guaranteed happy ending, preferably with a little spanking, bondage and alpha strutting sprinkled throughout. So Erotic Romance is usually my genre of choice.
I understand that the difference between these two genres is constantly under debate, so what’s your opinion? What differentiates the two for you?
Persuasion Skills
Boardroom Acts
Book One
Laurel Cremant
Genre: Contemporary Erotic Romance
Publisher: Evernight Publishing
ISBN: 978-1-77130-473-3
Number of pages: 107
Word Count: 31, 000
Cover Artist: Sour Cherry Designs
Book Description:
In the aftermath of a major health scare, Pepper Holts makes the relief-inspired decision to seize the day. Unfortunately, most of her “seizing” involves a bit of merlot and her best friend’s pants! After a shared night of passion she realizes that her feelings for Jax are a lot more complicated than she ever thought.
Jax has finally realized that his allergy to marriage has nothing to do with the institution itself, and everything to do with the women in his bed—or more specifically, the one woman not in his bed. Her reaction to their one night together has him scrambling to regroup. So he does what he knows best—he disappears, and he thinks. The plan?—convince Pepper into staying with him at a secluded cabin for one week. One week of pretending to be a happily married couple to show her how great they could be together.
EXCERPT. . .
“Hell, Pep, I missed you,” he said before dragging her from her chair into his waiting lap.
He dipped his head to the crook of her neck and engulfed her into a tight hug.
There was nothing quite like a Jaxon Grey hug. He hugged with his whole body. His tall frame and broad shoulders always curved just right around her, immersing her in a mantle of warmth and shelter.
She dipped her head and rubbed her chin onto the top his head and closed her eyes.
“I missed you, too, jackass.”
His resulting rumble of laughter caused his chest to shift against hers, and just like that, her back stiffened in addition to a few other things along her body.
She bit back a groan as her nipples tightened against the lace of her bra.
The warm gust of his breath against her neck wasn’t helping matters either.
“You’re such a sweet talker,” he said. “And since I like you so much, I promise not to spank you for your bad behavior.”
He pulled her in tighter and began to rub the base of her back. His stroking hand was far from soothing as it settled low, and his fingers grazed the swell of her ass. All it did was remind her of how good his big hands had felt stroking her naked flesh.
She shifted uncomfortably on his knee, trying to scoot away from the heat of him.
“I’m sorry, but I left my Emily Post handbook at home.”
He lifted his face from the crook of her neck and drifted his hands lower. Holding on to her hips, he dragged her forward and caught her gaze with his.
“Really? That’s too bad. Chapter six is dedicated to the perfect way to drape yourself across a man’s lap. Feel like practicing?”
Both his suggestion and hooded gaze held her captive for a few silent seconds. The idea of his strong hands spanking her ass flushed her body with heat.
The thought of him holding her down at his leisure and pleasure was surprisingly arousing. She knew that Jax liked to control things in bed, but how far did his need for dominance go?
“I’ve been doing a lot of thinking.”
He continued speaking as if he hadn’t just casually filled her mind with raunchy goodness. She tried not to pout before responding.
“It is what you’re known for,” she said, trying hard not to stare at his mouth. Her clit was already warming at the recollection of what that mouth could do.
She yelped at the pinch he gave her hip.
“Brat. I’m serious. After Mom died, I really started thinking about what I wanted in my life. I started thinking about all of the things missing.”
“Jax, you can’t expect to fill the void your mom left with things. It’s just gonna take a little time to heal.”
“I’m not talking about things, Pep.”
He smoothed a hand up and began to rub the nape of her neck.
“Mom was always pestering me about settling down and starting a family, but I always thought there was plenty of time. You know me. I’ve never been one to believe in love and marriage.”
Pepper tried not to flinch at his words. Jax had always considered love to be an illogical emotion. He always joked that it was just nature’s chemical drug designed to propagate the species. His outlook on love was one of the reasons why she had always been able to avoid acting on her attraction to him. There was no use ruining a perfectly good friendship for Jax’s idea of a romantic relationship.
His words only served to remind her that falling in love with him was a lost cause.
“But, ever since the funeral, I’ve realized she was right.”
It took a few seconds for his words to sink in.
“Uh, what exactly was she right about?” she asked, confused at his line of thought.
“She was right. I should be thinking about getting married and starting a family,”
“What? Okay, who are you, and where have you hidden the real Jaxon Grey?” she said, laughing desperately, and hoping this was his version of a horrible joke.
The look on his face sobered her up quickly.
“You’re not joking, are you?”
“No. I’ve analyzed the situation and determined that my mother was right. So I’ve decided to get married,” he said.
“Married?”
The words came out of her mouth in a whisper of disbelief. Married? Married?
“Yeah, married. And I’ve concluded that you would make me the perfect wife,” he said before pulling her head down and covering her shock-slackened mouth in a hot kiss.
About the Author:
Laurel is a romance author, who like most writers loves to read. Her first love (pun intended) has always been romance. From the sappy YA romance novel to the more risqué erotica novels, Laurel is a sucker for a good love story.
Laurel writes paranormal and contemporary romance and is a self proclaimed, out of the closet nerd. She admits that she can’t seem to avoid adding a bit of “nerdology” or “geek-dom” to all of her books. Living in Miami, she also admits that she can’t seem to avoid giving her heroines gorgeous shoes, “In Miami, we worship everything strappy, open toed and just plain hot!”
Website: www.LaurelCremant.com
Blog: www.laurelcremant.blogspot.com
Twitter: www.twitter.com/LaurelCremant
Facebook: www.facebook.com/LaurelCremantAuthor
Pinterest: www.pinterest.com/LaurelCremant
September 8, 2013
Luck of the Dragon
Luck of the Dragon
Susannah Scott
Genre: Paranormal Romance
Release Date: June 2013
Publisher: Entangled Covet
Book Description:
Luciana de Luca has a PhD in sass and gemology—and a problem. Her twin brother’s gambling debts have gotten out of hand, and a mob enforcer is blackmailing her to rob the latest, greatest mega-casino on the Strip. Although Lucy has worked her whole life to get away from her family’s grifter past, to save her brother, she dons three-inch heels and a sluts-r-us dress and struts into Alec’s Gerald’s casino, determined to put her long-forgotten thieving ways to the test again.
Alec Gerald, a shape-shifting dragon, has built the Crown Jewel casino to provide sanctuary for his people amongst the flash and awe of Las Vegas. Unfortunately, the sexy little thief trying to rob his gem exhibit turns out to be his mate, and he must woo her before he loses his dragon form forever. With enemies in every corner, and the all-important mating ceremony looming, Alec and Lucy must learn to trust each other, before time runs out for Alec and the rest of the dragons.
Amazon Kobo Barnes and Noble
Luck of the Dragon–Chapter 1–sample
SUSANNAH SCOTT lives in the Missouri Ozarks and is the lone female in a very loud household of males ranging in age from 4 to 40. While she jokes that the extreme levels of testosterone inspired her to write romance, it is really the love of creating an excellent story, and the occasional dreams of twenty-foot dragons, that wake her and send her to the laptop before the chaos of daily life ensues. Susannah loves to hear from her readers at the following social media locations:
Susannah Scott Author website
Susannah Scott Facebook Author page
Susannah Scott Goodreads
Susananh Scott Twitter
Guest Blog: Normal Heroes in Paranormal Romance
By Natalie J. Damschroder
Thanks to A.C. for having me here today!
Many of the memorable heroes in paranormal romance are powerful shapeshifters, demons, vampires, or superheroes. Sometimes the heroines are just as powerful or otherworldly, and sometimes they’re normal humans. But how does the dynamic change—if at all—when the heroines have all the power and the heroes are just guys?
It takes someone special to step up and go toe to toe against people with extraordinary abilities. To fight to protect those they care about, or even strangers, without worrying about their own safety. He has to be confident, sure of himself, and either short or long on ego. He also has to trust in his goddess’s ability to take care of herself, however intense his need to protect her.
Sam Remington is one such hero. In Heavy Metal, the second book in my Goddesses Rising trilogy, Sam is faced not only with helping to right wrongs, but with uncovering an enemy far stronger and more insidious than he’s ever imagined.
Even though he doesn’t know what agreeing to help will do to him, he doesn’t hesitate. He’ll contribute all his talents and resources to uncovering the truth and keeping people safe.
The one thing he won’t do, however, is expose his broken heart. Especially not to another goddess in need.
Heavy Metal
Goddesses Rising
Book Two
Natalie J. Damschroder
Genre: Paranormal Romance
Publisher: Entangled Publishing
ISBN: 978-1622668908
ASIN: B00BFQANU0
Number of pages: 341
Word Count: 98,000
Cover Artist: Liz Pelletier
Amazon BN Powell’s Books iTunes
Book Description:
The world is not what Riley Kordek imagined. On the run from those who’ve targeted her, all Riley wants is a chance to figure out her new ability to bend metal’s energy. When a hot guy who knows more than he should helps her escape her attackers, she thinks she might’ve found someone who can lead her to the answers she needs.
Three years ago, Sam Remington walked away from his employer and the woman he loved, and now, all he’s looking to do is fill the gaping hole left behind. Except, when Sam takes Riley to the Society for Goddess Education and Defense, the stakes rise beyond what either of them could have imagined.
After being alone for so long, falling for Sam would be far too easy—and far too painful, once his old flame calls needing his help. Worse, Riley uncovers a plot with disastrous ramifications not only for herself, but for Sam and the people he loves—and potentially every goddess in the country.
About the Author:
Natalie J. Damschroder is an award-winning author of contemporary and paranormal romance—Love with a Shot of Adrenaline. She sold her first book in 1999, and 2013 will see the publication of her 14th novel. She grew up in Massachusetts and loves the New England Patriots more than anything. (Except her family. And writing and reading. And popcorn.)
When she’s not writing, revising, proofreading, or promoting her work, she does freelance editing and works part time as a chiropractic assistant. She and her husband have two daughters she’s dubbed “the anti-teenagers,” one of whom is also a novelist. (The other one prefers math. Smart kid. Practical.)
You can learn more about her and her books at:
http://www.goodreads.com/NatalieJDamschroder
https://twitter.com/NJDamschroder
https://www.facebook.com/NJDamschroder
http://nataliedamschroder.blogspot.com/
Everybody Needs a Little Romance
www.everybodyneedsalittleromance.com
Masquerade Crew Hosting Me (Among others)…
In an awesome giveaway! Tons of prizes including five copies of Cursed Ever After. Whoot, whoot! Enjoy the rest of your weekend and be sure to get in on the action for your chance to win 
September 5, 2013
What makes a good paranormal?
I love questions like these.
There’s really no right or wrong answer. It’s all opinion based. I also get to take off my writer’s hat for a moment and don my reader one. However this question can be answered from my writer’s perspective as well since I write paranormal stories I like to read.
The simplest thing can make the difference between a good paranormal and a bad paranormal. Some readers stick to a certain type of paranormal story and refuse to veer away from that subgenre. The genre becomes divided between vampires lovers, shifter lovers, and demon lovers and so on. Then there is the whole paranormal is not paranormal unless it’s dark argument. So another divide happens between dark paranormal verses light paranormal.
I’m not as picky, lol. I’m more than willing to read anything.
So what IMHO makes a good paranormal?
Honestly, for me it’s not just one or two things that make a good paranormal good. It’s everything combined—the whole entire package: killer plot, memorable characters, vivid writing, and an awesome world.
How many of us have been completely absorbed in a book to only have the ending completely ruin it? I have. I HATE when this happens. So I need an ending that really leaves an impact on me. If I’ve been completely mesmerized by a book and I get the last page and think, “That’s it?!?!” that’s not good. I want endings that leave me with a small smile and a feeling of contentment.
How about this one…the book doesn’t have enough detail or there is so much detail you feel like you’ve been reading every ornate groove of the door the character is about to walk through for ten pages. I prefer a book that has perfect medium. That gives just enough detail to put an image in my head, but doesn’t get overly specific in every detail. Once I start skimming pages because of excessive detail, the story is starting to lose me.
With paranormal the world and whatever supernatural element there is to the story have to be believable and seamless. Paranormal characters have to be well thought out and whatever supernatural species they are has to be incorporated into every aspect of that character. The supernatural part makes them who they are. I love reading paranormals where I really connect with the supernatural chemistry the author has given her characters, that unique twist that makes a vampire or shifter that authors.
As for the actual world, I need to be able forget about the reality I live in and enter the one the author has written without issue. Now that doesn’t mean I have to want to be a part of this world, or wish that it is was real. I know this isn’t paranormal, but Suzanne Collins captivated me with The Hunger Games, but I have no desire to ever visit District 12 or Panem or participate in The Hunger Games. But she wrote this world so well, I had a very hard time coming back to myworld after I finished it. That is some fantastic writing.
So I have to ask you guys, what are some things that make a good paranormal to you?
The Awakening: Liam
The Awakening Book Two
Abby Niles
Genre: Paranormal Romance
Publisher: Covet, Entangled Publishing
Date of Publication: 8/26/13
ISBN: 9781622662821
Number of pages: 206
Book Description:
Shifter, Liam Doyle knows Hell. At least he believed he did. The night he feels his mate die, he learns how very wrong he was. Nothing he’d struggled with since Ava’s rejection compares to the emptiness that fills his soul by her death. Lost in his grief, he’s taken by surprise and drugged. When he wakes, everything changes. Nothing is what it seems, and someone is dead set on making him pay.
When Ava Michaels is taken captive, she’s thrust into a dark and terrifying world along with the man she was forced to leave behind. While being near Liam again is heartbreaking, the motive behind her kidnapping is gradually revealed. The more she learns, the more she worries Liam isn’t the man she believed him to be. He has enemies willing to do anything to extract their revenge. Can their love survive a crazy man’s vengeance?
Excerpt:
“Doesn’t concern me? I guess that’s what you’d have to believe when you mark a woman and bring her into a supernatural world without telling her, huh?” she scoffed harshly. “Fact check: It does concern me and you don’t get to tell me it doesn’t. If you won’t give me answers, I’ll find someone who will.”
When she went to hobble past him, he shot his hand out and latched onto her wrist. “Stay out of it, Ava.”
She tugged her arm but stopped when his grip tightened. Lifting her gaze, she was stunned by the fear she saw in his eyes. “Liam,” she breathed. “What won’t you tell me?”
His eyes flashed caramel before returning to normal. “You want truth? Here’s some truth. If you don’t want to completely ruin me, you have to live. Now get in the damn house,” he roared.
“What is that supposed to mean?”
Groaning, he hoisted her over his shoulder. The crutches fell from her grip to the ground. He squatted and snatched them up, then stalked across the yard.
“It means: You. Have. To. Live. That’s pretty fucking clear.”
He yanked open the screen door. As he lowered her, her body slid down the length of his, her nipples puckering as hard muscles scrapped against her nipples. Arm holding her tight to him, Liam stared down at her, his breathing ragged. Caramel lightened the dark brown irises causing her heart to stutter.
Before she could even blink, he grabbed the sides of her face between both of his hands and his lips were on hers. Angry. Possessive. Punishing…desperate.
As quickly as he started the kiss, he ended it, ripping his mouth from hers. Anger still tightened the contours of his face. He leaned down until he was eyes to eye with her. “All you have to concentrate on is breathing. So do it.”
About the Author:
Ever since Abby Niles picked up her first Sweet Valley High book in sixth grade and fell in love with Elizabeth and Todd, she’s been hooked on romance. By the time she reached high school, she was devouring meatier romances with pirates, cowboys and knights. She never imagined that those years of reading would one day lead to her becoming a published author.
In her late twenties, after having twins and becoming a stay-at-home mom, she started doodling stories to keep her sanity. Next thing she knew, she was actually submitting to publishing houses. And was immediately rejected. That didn’t stop her though. She found herself some kickass critique partners, honed her craft, and continued submitting.
And eventually sold a short story, then a novella, then a novel, and now a series.
Today, she juggles work, home life, and writing. It’s not always easy, but hey, who said life was easy?
In her downtime, which isn’t often, you can find her playing ‘Just Dance’ with her kids or trying to catch up on her never-ending to-be-read list. She also loves Zumba, and refuses to admit she looks more like Animal doing his Muppet flail than a sensual Latin dancer.
Website: http://www.abbynilesauthor.com/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/abbyniles
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/abbynilesauthor
Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/AbbyNiles
Newsletter: http://goo.gl/jkbrWl
September 4, 2013
The Big Book of Orgasms—69 Sexy Stories
My freckles expanded from my recent beach vacation which is nothing new. It goes with the territory when you’re Scotch-Irish. I also had rosy pink cheeks… oh, but not from the sun
No, it was from reading The Big Book of Orgasms—69 Sexy Stories .
Erotica, good erotica, is so much more than a story about sex. That is the core of course but well written erotica makes us feel (pun intended) like any inspiring musical composition. If you look at the root word eros it means life force and without eroticism you have no sexuality and no continuation of our species. Making love, sex, fucking, is a basic drive, a need that sustains us, creates art, and is sacred in all its many forms.
It would be impossible for me to pick a favorite story from this collection because so many of them resonated with orgasms past or piqued my curiosity to explore ones I’ve yet to discover.
All You Do Is Play by Annabeth Leong had me wondering at the possibility and remembering so many concerts swaying to the vibrations rocking through my body. By the Beat by T.Fox Dunham built a slow crescendo with its metronome. Meanwhile, Piano Man by A.M. Hartnett took me back to my college days playing open mic nights and to lovers who could play me like a harp.
The Gallery Exhibit by Chris Komodo took exhibitionism and made orgasm into art. Matinee by Suleikha Snyder reminded me that eroticism doesn’t mean sex. It doesn’t mean sex at all. A look, a touch, a brushing of arms can be just as hot or hotter than the most passionate kiss or embrace. At the same time Meeting Myself by Anya Levin reminds us that sex is timeless, ageless, and does not end.
The stories that made my husband hand me more sunblock because he was sure I was getting too much sun on my face was Forced Orgasms by Shoshanna Eversand The Flogger by Jade A. Waters. Kay Jaybee shared her spread-eagled tale, Tied by Red that sounded like my kind of kink and had just enough thorns to be fun
While The Morning After by David Salcido had me going, “Damn, I don’t remember getting that kind of service on my honeymoon!”My last kudos goes to Michael A.Gonzales for writing a story near and dear to my heart with The Velocity of Roaches. I love that the stereotypical leering side character that’s an unfortunate annoyance is incorporated.
As the lazy, hazy days of summer come to a close (yes, I know I’m terribly punny) I’m sure I’ll curl up by the fire to re-read a few of my favorites this fall.
September 3, 2013
Covet Thy Neighbor Erotic MM #Paranormal Romantic Suspense #BDSM
Covet Thy Neighbor
Sexy Men of Mystery
Book Two
Jessica Frost
Genre: Erotic M/M Paranormal Romantic Suspense, vampires, light consensual BDSM, whipping, paddling
Publisher: Siren Publishing
Date of Publication: April 15th, 2013
ISBN: 1627401180
E-book ISBN: 978-1-62242-889-2
ASIN: B00CT35ZKG
Number of pages: 103
Word Count: 31 700
Cover Artist: Harris Channing
e-book: Bookstrand Amazon Amazon.uk Amazon.ca
Book Description:
Detective Nicola Dupré is back at work after a six-month sick leave, but he’s still haunted by his sister’s tragic death. When Captain Moore gives him an unofficial undercover assignment to befriend the sexy, charming Nero Thorn, the erotic writer Nicola idolizes, he quickly accepts. He thinks it’s an easy job until he gets to know the mysterious BDSM author. Overwhelming emotions he can’t explain draw him ever closer to Nero.
Nero Thorn’s a recluse and he likes it that way. When he literally bumps into his shy, handsome new neighbor, Nicola Dupré, sparks fly. He’s drawn to Nicola like a moth to a fire and he quickly falls in love. But he has a dark, dangerous secret he’s kept hidden from the world for years. If Nicola ever finds out who he really is, he’ll run away in fear.
There’s a serial killer out there, and the murder of his sixth victim was written in Nero’s last novel before it ever happened. There’s a connection between Nero, the sixth victim, and the killer, and Nicola has to figure it out before the killer strikes again.
Excerpt
Covet Thy Neighbor:
Nicola gazed at the book, then up at Adam, who peered at him with a curious look as if he waited for some type of reaction. “A book? You give me a book.” The poor lighting had Nicola turning and twisting the book so that the streetlight’s illumination a few feet away could beam on it.
“Look at the name.” Adam gestured with his extended finger.
Nicola’s brow lifted when he read the name Nero Thorn. “Look at that. One of my favorite erotic suspense authors has a new book out.” He flipped the trade paperback over to check out the back cover blurb, but the unreadable black print made him squint. “You shouldn’t have,” he joked.
Adam’s eyes rolled. “It’s not a present.”
Nicola nodded. “I figured that. But how is this book The Messenger’s Gift going to prepare me for my meeting with Captain Moore tomorrow?”
“Read the back cover and see if it reminds you of anything.”
Nicola groaned. “Sorry, I can’t see it. It’s too dark.”
“Wait a second…”Adam took out his cell phone and slid his thumb on the screen until he found whatever he looked for. “I have the perfect app for just this situation.” All of a sudden a bright light beamed from the phone’s screen.
“A cell phone and a flashlight, too. Will wonders never cease.” Nicola marveled at it.
Adam half laughed. “I got a ton of apps just as cool as this that I can show you.”
Nicola put up his hand. “Nope. Not interested. A cell phone was made to make calls, not be a multipurpose gadget.”
Adam grumbled, turning off the light feature, and began to place the phone back in his pants pocket. “Fine, then forget the whole thing.”
Feeling like a horse’s ass, Nicola halted his movement. “Sorry. Bad joke. But you know I’m not a tech geek.” He pointed a wagging index finger at the phone. “Go on, give it to me.”
Once Adam did as he asked, Nicola began to read the blurb, which described one hell of premise. “Damn, that’s good,” he said once he finished.
Adam gave him a big-eyed, sideways glance. “And?”
“And what?”
Adam rolled his eyes. “Doesn’t it remind you of a murder that happened here just two months ago?”
Nicola shook his head. “Sorry. I hadn’t been keeping up with the news in Chicago. So, a dismembered body was found in this park?”
Adam nodded. “Exactly how it’s described there in that book.”
Nicola frowned. “Well, it’s probably some whacko who wanted to make Nero’s fiction story reality.”
Adam shook his head. “No, can’t be.”
“Why?”
“Because the murder happened before this book was ever released.” Adam crossed his arms.
“So then Nero based his story on the murder.” Nicola shrugged.
Adam chuckled. “How could he base his story on a murder that still hadn’t happened?”
He shook his head. “What? You’re not making any sense, dude.”
Adam exhaled deeply and then answered, “Nero wrote the story a year ago, before the murder ever happened. But the story was only released a month after the murder happened.”
“Well, maybe the murderer got an advanced copy of the book and was inspired by it.”
Adam shook his head again. “Not possible as no advanced copy was available yet. The book was supposed to be released this week, but the publisher decided to publish it little more than a month after the murder happened. They thought it would boost sales. And they were right. Sales soared and it’s a best seller.”
Nicola stared at the copy. “Okay, that’s creepy and one hell of a coincidence. But I don’t get what it has to do with us and why we’re here talking about it.”
“Because, partner, that is what Captain Moore is going to talk to you about tomorrow.”
“What? About the murder?”
Adam added, “Yeah, we’ve been assigned to the case. You and I. I’ve been working closely with the captain for the past month and he’s been prepping me.”
It dawned on Nicola. “Oh, so that’s why you know so much about this book and the murder.” He flipped the book in his hand as he stared at it. “So Nero is a suspect?”
“Sort of. But he has one hell of an alibi for the night of the murder. And reliable witnesses to back up his alibi, too.”
“Then he’s not the murderer.”
Adam tipped his head from right to left. “Maybe. Maybe not.”
Nicola stood and stretched his legs. A cramp had begun to form, tightening his neck and shoulder muscles. “Did Captain Moore tell you what I’ll be doing?”
“Oh, yeah. Since Nero isn’t considered an official suspect, it won’t be your everyday detective’s work. So you don’t have to take it if you don’t want to.”
Nicola knew that look Adam gave him. “Oh, no. It’s that bad?”
“Well, it depends on how you look at it. If moving into the condo next door to the sexy author who you once told me you’d do anything to have one night with, just to see if he’s as good in bed as the heroes in his stories, doesn’t appeal to you, then yes, it’s that bad.”
Nicola’s jaw dropped and his eyes almost popped out of their sockets. “Excuse me! Did I hear correctly? The captain wants me to move into the condo next to Nero’s?”
Adam’s lips tightened and he nodded.
“What, as in an undercover operation?”
“Exactly! An unofficial undercover operation.” Adam pointed at him as if he had just deciphered a phrase in the game of charades.
“Why me? I’ve never done undercover work. What if I goof up and blow the whole operation?”
“You’re the best man for the job. You’re one of Nero’s biggest fans, and since you don’t yet feel up to working full-time in homicide at the precinct, it’s a good assignment to start getting your feet wet.”
Nicola sat down again and shook his head.
Adam frowned. “Why are you doing that?”
“I’m still in shock. It’s like I’ve just been cast in the lead role for a story in The Twilight Zone.”
To Serve and Protect
Sexy Men of Mystery
Book One
Jessica Frost
Genre: Erotic MM Paranormal Romantic Suspense, vampires, light consensual BDSM, whipping
Publisher: Siren Publishing
Date of Publication: January 4th, 2013
ISBN: 1627401180
E-book ISBN: 978-1-62242-355-2
ASIN: B00B88R9DO
Number of pages: 84
Word Count: 25 727
Cover Artist: Harris Channing
E-book: Bookstrand Amazon Amazon. uk Amazon.ca
Book Description:
When Detective Jacob Brown arrives at the scene of a massacre, he sees a mysterious man escaping. One victim’s still alive. It’s Vincent Brewster, Jacob’s ex-lover who dumped him months ago, breaking his heart and then disappearing.
Later at the hospital, when Vincent sees the handsome detective, he thinks it’s love at first sight. Although Vincent can’t remember who he is, he’s sexually attracted to Jacob.
While Vincent wants to get closer to him, Jacob wants to run away.
But the killer’s still loose. Jacob must protect Vincent and help him get his memory back. This means he has to remind him of their past, including the bondage sex they enjoyed. He vows to do whatever it takes to get Vincent to remember. When his and Vincent’s feelings of love resurface, it’s hard to resist Vincent’s seduction.
What they don’t know is Vincent and the serial killer now have a connection—a supernatural one. And the killer’s coming for him. Can Jacob protect Vincent and help him get his memory back before the killer finds him?
Excerpt To Serve and Protect :
“Man, sometimes I hate my job,” Troy Adams, Jacob’s partner of three years, said as he walked ahead through the debris and darkness in the narrow alley.
“That’s exactly what I was thinking.” Jacob looked at him, noting his friend pinched his nose in disgust when he turned to face him.
“But like it or not, we have to scout it out. Captain’s orders.” Troy shrugged.
Jacob huffed, nodding. Troy was right. They had no choice.
The anonymous call the station received an hour ago led them to this search. The robotic voice claimed a third body in The Cleansing Killings would be found here. It was only the twelfth call of this sort they had received this week. All the others had led Jacob and Troy, the detectives assigned to the killings, on a wild-goose chase. Odds were this one would turn out the same.
Yet he couldn’t quite shrug off the funny feeling crawling up his spine that danger lurked not that far off. The peculiar sensation that someone was watching from the shadows in the corner behind them kept haunting him. He twitched as a cold and then hot bolt of panic possessed his body.
Damn it, relax, Jacob! Pull yourself together.
He needed to calm down. Big time! Five years on the police force and three years as homicide detective had conditioned him to always be prepared, never lose his cool. He knew if he did, he could put his life, or worse the life of his partner or an innocent civilian’s, in jeopardy. But knowing this didn’t help him at all. His fears and untamable imagination had thrown him a curveball he couldn’t control.
He tried to direct his mind off his paranoia by taking several deep breaths.
Speeding in his gait, he opened his mouth to say he should lead and Troy could follow him, when his partner stopped in his tracks. Unprepared, Jacob almost plowed into him. Jumping to the side to avoid the collision, he cursed. “Watch where you’re going.”
His friend and partner didn’t hear him. He was too busy taking out his gun from his hidden holster and shouting, “You over there, freeze!”
Jacob gazed in the direction Troy aimed his gun while reaching for his own. About ten yards ahead of them two lifeless bodies lay on the ground and someone was crouched over one of them. The giant male held what looked like a machete over the torso.
When the mysterious person heard Troy’s warning, he stood up and darted over the body, heading in the opposite direction.
Troy sprinted after him, shouting back to Jacob, “We got him. It’s a dead end up ahead. He’s got nowhere to run.”
“You go after him and I’ll check on them.” Jacob motioned as he ran to the two men lying on the ground.
The second he reached them, he knew it was too late. At least for one of them. One of the men, who appeared older and shorter, lay on his back, his chest split open and his heart cut out. This was The Cleansing Killings killer’s signature MO, no doubt. The two other recovered bodies had had their hearts cut out of their chest cavities in the same barbaric way. And later, after the coroner did an autopsy, they were found to have had their blood drained from their bodies, as well. What a sick bastard they had on their hands with this case.
In his line of work, Jacob should be used to seeing this type of mutilation on dead bodies, but he still cringed and shuddered every time he first laid eyes on the dead victims, the exposed flesh, and the gore. Jacob’s stomach lurched and he tried to hold back the bile and the tacos he ate for dinner that kept threatening to regurgitate back into his esophagus.
It was too late for this man, but what about the other? The other victim lay on his right side, his back facing Jacob. Jacob quickly knelt and felt the man’s pulse. It was weak but steady. He sighed in relief. As he let go of his wrist, the man moaned and turned onto his back. The streetlight above them beamed on him then.
In utter shock, Jacob stared at the familiar face. He felt the blood drain from his head, and his limbs went weak. Dizziness overcame him and the taco dinner finally won the battle with his stomach, rising up and escaping his mouth. Vomit spewed to the ground in front of him, splashing his black leather shoes.
Once the flood ended, he wiped his lips with the back of his hand. His throat and tongue felt like they were on fire.
From his peripheral vision, he saw Troy quickly making his way back to him alone, no apprehended suspect in tow. He said, cringing as he stared at the mess at Jacob’s feet, “Oh, that is nasty.”
Quickly recovering, Jacob whisked his cell phone out and made an emergency call to 911 on the police department’s direct line. “We need an ambulance at Park and Beacon Street ASAP. A man is wounded and another dead.”
He stared at the unconscious man while worry ran through his mind. Please, let him be all right.
Troy glanced at the dead body and said, “The killer got away. I thought I had him. There was no way he could have escaped, but somehow he did. One second he was there running, and the next it’s like he disappeared into thin air.”
Jacob didn’t speak, didn’t move.
Troy asked, “Did you hear me?”
He only nodded, unable to break his gaze from the unconscious, injured victim.
Troy snapped his fingers in front of Jacob’s face. “Earth calling Jacob Brown.
You in there?”
Jacob blinked several times before looking up at Troy. Yet, he didn’t reply.
Worry overtook Troy’s features. “What the hell is going on with you, Jacob? You all right? Are you dizzy or sick? Do I need to call an ambulance for you, too?”
Jacob shook his head. “I’m all right.”
“Then why do you look like you just saw a ghost?”
His gaze returned to the injured man, and he said in a low voice, barely a whisper, “I know the victim. We were lovers.”
About the Author:
Jessica Frost has always had a passion for fiction and the written word. Add to that her wild, vivid imagination and her pure romantic tendencies and she soon realized she had the traits needed to become a romance author. She decided to take the very big first step not that long ago and wrote her first erotic romance story. And she has not looked back since.
Being a romance writer is a dream come true for her. Having the opportunity to create fantasy worlds where anything and everything can happen is an amazing feeling. She hopes these worlds and the delightful characters she creates will bring hours of enjoyment to her readers as they have done for her.
Website: http://www.authorjessicafrost.com/
Blog: http://authorjessicafrost.blogspot.ca/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/Author_JesFrost
Facebook: www.facebook.com/Author.Jessica.Frost
September 2, 2013
Hope ya’ll had a nice long holiday weekend!
This handsome young man is Caelan Rune, my youngest.
Next to Caelan is his sister Autumn Rain, my little princess.
My husband Jamey getting down and dirty with the wee ones. I call this photo childcare at the beach—bury ‘em so they don’t get away 
Argh matey, where be the ale house? The whole clan including my in-laws pillaging and plundering our way through Ocean City, MD.
Now… Back to your regularly scheduled posts on romance, erotica, and paranormal passion
September 1, 2013
Spotlight: Seeing Red GLBTQ M/M #Erotic #Romance
By E. L. Esch
Book Description:
What would you do if you lost five years of freedom? If everything you’d ever known was torn away from you, all because the one person you counted on to save you didn’t come through?
This is the cruel reality for Gabriel “Red” Thatcher, convicted at age nineteen for the murder of his father. Now twenty-five and eight months out of prison, Red has nothing to his name and no one to help him. He is carrying close to him a rage hotter than white flames. Had his sister just testified on his behalf in court, he could have been spared the horrible things that happened to him in the doghouse. Things that’ll make him never look at intimacy the same way again.
Red can’t take swallowing his bitter rage alone anymore. Unable to kill the growing loneliness and ire with time, he heads into the Flower District in search of a gay bar to drown his sorrows. There he meets the bubbly, easy-on-the-eyes Silo Winters.
When Red learns that Silo did three years in prison for an accidental oil fire, he brings Silo home, not so much for a wild romp as to relieve his aching loneliness. Besides if anyone will understand Red’s pain it’ll be Silo, who’s gone through some of the same horrors he has. However, he definitely doesn’t count on Silo becoming so much more than a sexy shoulder to lean on. Now, if only Red can learn to let him in.
Amazon Loose-Id
Excerpt:
The Flower District was named for what many men lost there—that moment when the lily white of a pure man’s soul turned red with his first taste of carnal lust. This was not my case, however. I’d lost the purity of having an untouched body years ago, and to a man I didn’t even love…or want.
I sat in the district’s most renowned bar, Divano Messia. I could practically feel eyes cruising over me, but I paid them no mind. I felt bad for the first guy who’d offer to buy me a drink, because I was that one-in-a-million man who wasn’t looking to get laid in a place meant for people looking to get laid. I just wanted to be left alone and drink.
Despite this, I let my gaze wander. I hadn’t gotten any in more than eight months, so I let myself have some eye candy at least. Those times in prison didn’t count. I didn’t exactly find the idea of being forced against some concrete wall by a man I hardly knew a good time. If I wanted, I could have one of these men on my arm in an hour’s time, but because of the past, because of prison, I didn’t. I would never take a one-night stand—that was the promise I’d made to myself eight months ago on my first day outside my prison cell, my first day of freedom.
Besides, I didn’t have much money to buy a guy a drink. All I had in my wallet today was a twenty, enough for two drinks at most and, if I was lucky, a taxi ride home.
I looked down at my reflection in the bar top and sneered. The twenty wasn’t even mine. I hadn’t been able to find work since I’d gotten out of the doghouse, and it stung worse than a rough first time that the money I did have I was leeching off of my sister. I had been for eight months for rent, food, and now alcohol. But as much as I hated being out on the town using my sister’s money, I desperately needed the booze, because if I penned through another to-be-ignored job application sober, I knew I’d blow a gasket.
Thus I ordered the driest cocktail Messia served—a Stinger. It hurt my throat to swallow it, but I sucked up the burn and smacked my lips. It wouldn’t get me drunk, but twenty bucks wouldn’t anyway, so at least I could take my mind off all the shit going on in my life by scalding my tongue.
When I grimaced at my second sip of the cocktail, a man a few seats away from me laughed. I looked up at him, but he wasn’t looking back. I wondered if he’d even been laughing at me as I profiled his average build and cleanly shaven skull. What attracted my attention the most about him were his ice-blue eyes. I only caught a glimpse when he turned to look behind him, but they were astounding. A pale winter blue, almost stark white, just like icicles reflecting the color of the sky. I could almost smell the clean air and feel the frigid chill of winter when I saw them.
Realizing I was staring, I lowered my eyes. Then I caught sight of an array of black bars on the underside of the man’s wrist. A barcode… I gazed back up at his shaven skull and understood, and that’s when he looked at me.
He smiled. His teeth were straight and perfect, though strangely not quite as white as his eyes.
I turned my gaze away, finding his tattoo again and staring. He must’ve noticed, because he folded his arms to conceal it when I brought my gaze up to his face.
Now it could have just been a meaningless tattoo. I’d heard of teens getting barcode tats just so they could scan themselves at stores. He could’ve been inked just for shits and giggles, but I didn’t think so. The way he hid his tattoo from me when he caught me staring…the seemingly pained look in his eyes when he’d folded his arms…his ink was personal. Too personal to have been done for kicks. After all, lots of guys who’d been in prison got tats of their prisoner ID. I knew—I was one of them. Only I didn’t do it to make myself look like some badass, or to brand myself as a rebellious stray lamb. I did it to remind myself that no matter how rough life got, I’d been through worse. Much, much worse…
“Silo Winters.” The tattooed man called across the bar. “That’s my name. Yours?”
“Red…” A large part of me didn’t want to talk to him, because I knew what he was after. A larger part of me realized from the ink on his wrist that he might have been through the same type of hell I had in prison, and that he, like me, could possibly want a shoulder to lean on to get away from it all. But I wasn’t about to kid myself. This was the Flower District’s most popular gay bar, after all.
“Red, like the crayon color?” He rose from his seat and took the one next to me instead.
“I guess.” I sipped my drink again and cringed.
“Why drink it if you don’t like it?” Silo set his elbow on the bar and his chin atop his palm.
“Because I want to.” I drank again, noticing the way he kept eying my cocktail.
“Care to offer me one?” He grinned at me stupidly, with his lips crooked and his eyes squeezed shut.
And though I kind of found it cute, I shook my head and said, “No.”
That quieted him for a minute.
“Well, I won’t make you woo me, if that’s not your thing. How about you just take me home and we skip the formalities?”
Talk about coming on too strong. Part of me was a bit disappointed this man had ended up just like the rest, mostly because I yearned to hear the story behind the tattoo on his wrist. I looked for it again. Realizing it was hidden, I scratched my own instead.
“Sorry, I’m not looking for anything like that.” I promptly asked the bartender for my bill, and then again for my change when he gave it to me.
“I won’t rob you or anything.” Silo stared at me as I rose from my seat, an odd pleading look in his bluish-white eyes.
“Sorry.” I set a dollar on the bar and left, feeling those icicle eyes burning into my back as I stood up to head out the door.
“Hey wait, sugar.”
Against my better judgment, I turned back to face Silo. “What?”
“I’m not offended by a rejection.” He laughed. “Stay. Drink. That’s why you came, isn’t it?”
I narrowed my eyes. He was right. Besides, I’d only finished half my cocktail. “Fine…” I slowly took my seat again.
“So what’s got ya sucking down a throat-stinging drink like that, sweetheart?” Silo asked.
I hadn’t thought he’d continue talking to me, but as long as he didn’t make any more passes at me, I didn’t mind.
“Life,” I grumbled.
“Hah! That’s what’s got me here too, sweetheart.” I hadn’t intended to sit with him and talk. After all, I couldn’t give him the night of fun that he wanted. But the moment I saw him, his beautiful icicle-blue eyes captured me. They demanded my attention every time I looked at him. And when I’d felt them on my back as I’d turned to leave the bar, I’d sensed them looking beyond the surface of my skin and down into my core. That was one of the reasons I’d sat back down at the bar. That and my insatiable curiosity about the barcode tattoo on the underside of his wrist. Mostly, though, it was the look of quiet understanding in Silo’s eyes when I caught him staring at my similarly tattooed wrist.
Before I knew it, we’d been talking for hours, mostly about things that had no meaning, like our favorite bars in the Flower District. Silo was a huge flirt and hit on me more often than not, but nothing serious. He always laughed when he dropped some cheesy line or batted his eyelashes, almost as if he were emphasizing that it was all a joke. At intervals he still seriously asked me to take him home, and—because of my personal principles—I declined.
“Crayon…” Silo said suddenly. He tapped the side of my martini glass with a terribly chewed nail. The ping echoed around the bar, lost in the conversations of other men. “Do you come here every night? I’ve never really seen you around here.” He smiled.
I shook my head. “No.”
Silo grinned and settled his cheek against the palm of his hand. “I see.”
I could see the barcode tattooed on the underside of his wrist again with the way he was sitting, and my curiosity flared up once more.
Now normally I would in no way bring up prison, because if I did, the conversation was bound to route back to me and what’d I’d done to get locked up. Normally I avoided the topic like the plague, but here I was with a man who may have gone through that very same hell and all I wanted to talk about was prison since I’d met him, because for the first time in eight months, I’d found someone whose gaze didn’t develop that repelling glare when it passed over the barcode inked into my wrist. And just knowing someone like that existed made my soul cry out to him as a fellow comrade-in-arms. If I was wrong about it all—about him and his past being just like me and mine—then oh well. I would take that chance, because eight months of having no one to talk to were driving me crazy. If I did turn out to be wrong about him, then he’d simply become just another stranger judging me silently with his pale, wintery eyes.
So as casually as I could, trying to show Silo I wouldn’t care no matter how he answered, I asked, “So I’ve noticed you’ve got a barcode tat. Shits and giggles, or have ya done time?” while tapping my ink.
“You finally asked, huh? I wondered who would be the first.” Silo chuckled, almost spat as he raised his head and looked at my face. He shucked off his leather jacket and pointed to a fleshy red burn on the right side of his neck.
“Three years.” Silo craned his neck as if to give me a better view. “Trespassing. Apparently I’m dumb enough to cause an oil fire right in front of my own face.”
I scratched my wrist. “You didn’t?”
“Fucking tank fell off the truck. Driver started the vehicle and then…” Silo clenched his fist before my face and then stretched his fingers wide. “Boom. Luckily it was a small tank, but there I was, a twenty-three-year-old nitwit proving the size of my balls to a couple of drunk college buddies. A convenient excuse. They convicted me on the cigarette I’d thrown to the ground minutes before the tank just rolled off the truck and started a fire. I’d tossed the stupid thing right next to the truck’s tire too, and of course there were no witnesses of it being an accident. My college friends had bailed on me, afraid of getting caught. Bullshit. I just got out a month ago.” Silo held up his hand and ordered a Balalaika when the bartender was within earshot.
The bar master exchanged a nod with Silo, turning to find his mixer. When Silo received his drink, he sipped it daintily, his anger seeming to have already cooled. “Ah, that’s good. I missed this damn place.”
“Amen to that.” I held up my drink in a hypothetical toast.
Silo sipped his cocktail with a finesse that matched the catlike grace with which he handled the glass. As he brought the glass away from his lips, he smiled sadly at the barcode tattooed on the underside of his wrist. “You have one too, huh?” He gestured at my similarly placed ink. “What do you think possesses us to remind ourselves of the shit we went through in there?”
I laughed, merely because I was happy to understand what he meant. “That it only gets better?” I snorted. “Or worse.” I examined my ink and shook my head. After what had been done to me in that hellhole, I could only pray that things couldn’t possibly get worse. “So were you one of those dudes who couldn’t stand the blood, Silo?”
“Pft, no. Tattoos don’t hurt that much. I actually thought about getting another.” He stopped to take a drink of his cocktail. “Funny.” He grinned. “You didn’t say anything about my name being weird. Most people would’ve brought it up by now.”
I shrugged. “What would I say? My name’s a crayon color.” I paused, thinking long and hard about saying what I wanted to say next. I passed my eyes over Silo’s figure openly. “I’d rather mention something about that fine body.”
Silo sputtered into his drink and ended up swallowing more laughter than cocktail. “Oh, you’re finally coming around, huh?”
No, he was wrong. I wasn’t looking for any more empty sex in my life. I glanced at Silo and silently apologized for hitting on him, because I hardly had any intention of having yet another forced, emotionless romp. But that nagging fellowship I felt between Silo and me was just too strong to ignore. Maybe his relentless flirting had simply taken its toll on me, because I actually wanted to take him home now just to be close to him, the man who neither judged nor feared me.
So when I simply shrugged, I hoped Silo knew how I felt.
“Don’t come on to me half-assed.” Silo smiled despite his words. He took a swig of his cocktail, twiddling his thumbs around the stem of his glass when he set it back down on the bar. “If you don’t find me attractive, I can go back to the end of the bar.”
“N-no!” I stuttered. “I meant what I said—you do have a nice body. I just—”
“You ever been fucked in prison, Crayon?” He looked me up and down and shook his head. “You look too built to have been bullied like I was.” He snickered, almost like his words didn’t carry the horrors of his past.
The question hit me so suddenly that my mouth went dry. I almost felt like he knew what was going through my head, as if his ice-blue eyes were reading me. So it was true, then—he’d gone through the same shit as me and more in prison, and that was when I knew for sure that I wanted to take him home with me. Because, like I’d hoped, he wasn’t judging me. He understood.
I regarded Silo’s quiet trepidation with care, knowing I was treading on eggshells now. Little did he know, he was doing the same.
“No,” I lied.
About the Author:
I can mostly be found staring into the screen of my PC or laptop into all hours of the night, hyped on caffeinated soda and likely procrastinating something important by losing at Internet Checkers or browsing the web (The day I win a game of Internet Checkers is the day I can write more than a few pages at once without procrastinating). When I’m not doing that, I’m either out being my nerdy self or, of course, writing. I’ve been writing since the fourth grade, and have no plans to stop. To me, one of the greatest pleasures in life is being able to create worlds and characters whose lives I can share with others.
Social Links:
Author Website: http://www.e-l-esch.com
Blog: http://www.e-l-esch.blogspot.com
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/authorE.L.Esch
