Mandy M. Roth's Blog, page 77

Excerpt: Dance of Souls by Mandy M Roth

Dance of Souls

Best Intentions 2: A Ghost Cats Story

Paranormal Shifter Romance by Mandy M Roth

ABOUT:

Some dances are downright deadly.

Mason Blackwolf doesn’t want much out of life. He’s easy going. He’s alpha of his pack of werewolves, best friends with a shape shifting cougar and the great-grandson of a powerful Native American Shaman. A normal day for him consists of dealing with inter-pack politics, seducing beautiful women and then, if he’s lucky, relaxing and not thinking about much beyond that. When it becomes clear his grandfather has sent him on a wild goose chase, Mason stops at a roadside bar for a beer. He gets more than he’s bargained for when a tall, sexy blonde enters the establishment. She catches not only his eye but the wolf’s attention as well. She’s also off limits. In a big way. To Mason, it’s simply another layer that adds to her appeal. She’s a temptation he doesn’t want to resist and if he has his way, she’ll be thoroughly claimed before the night is out.

Rating: Contains graphic sexual content, adult language, and violence.

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EXCERPT

Chapter One

Mason Blackwolf sat in the back booth of the bar he’d stopped at on his way home and watched the patrons closely. His ever vigilant eye had picked up on a number of oddities in the bar. Nothing that would send him packing but enough that Mason knew to be on his guard. He sat there, peeling the label off his beer, wadding the moistened paper into tiny balls and depositing them into the ashtray. He took another swig of the dark amber substance, savoring its rich brew but wishing it was stronger than it was.



Why his best friend, Brayen, and his grandfather, Running Elk, had sent him on a wild goose chase was a mystery to him. They had to have known that the rogue werewolf pack in Virginia had been captured and brought to justice. Everyone else seemed to know. The Virginia pack, who had contacted Brayen for help with the rouges, had come just shy of laughing in Mason’s face when he arrived. Why the hell did Brayen and Running Elk still send him? Sure, a vacation was nice but even he had to admit that he missed being home.

He hated to fly and had opted to drive instead. If the gods had intended him to fly, they’d have made him a werebird of some sort, not a werewolf. With a ridiculous amount of highway miles under his belt, Mason was ready to climb in his own bed and not look back. Unfortunately, he had a distance to travel yet before that could happen. The need to stretch his legs and relax had been great. The pull to this particular place had been all consuming—bordering on obsessive. He’d given into it and stopped. Now, he just had to figure out why.

Mason looked around, doing his best to put his finger on the problem. The smell of whiskey filled the air, coating it like a thin blanket of gasoline, no doubt as ignitable as the tempers of the occupants of the establishment.

Nothing in the bar seemed out of the ordinary. It was the same run of the mill, clean place with a gritty clientele he was used to. Though, his normal hang-out didn’t have humans roaming about it, mingled with supernaturals. This one did. That didn’t surprise him. Ninety-nine point nine percent of the places Mason went when he wasn’t home had them in it.

A row of pool tables flanked one side of the bar while a long bar ran the length of the other side. Tables filled the area in between and in the darkened back corner, sat several booths. The place wasn’t bad. It wasn’t extraordinary either. Mason couldn’t understand why he’d had the urge to stop here.

“Come on, baby. Give daddy some of that sweet ass,” a drunk called out from a table full of men.

Mason watched the brunette waitress who had caught his eye earlier as she did her best to ignore the heckling that had been going on since he’d first arrived. The bartender seemed to be leery about the group of men that had pushed several tables together and were now taking up a large portion of the center of the bar. If he had any clue what the hell the guys truly were, he’d have kicked their asses out long ago.

With a rifle loaded with silver bullets in his hands no less.

The music, pumping out of a jukebox up near the stage, varied from country to classic rock. It served to drown out some of the ruckus. Unfortunately, not enough to give Mason the peace he so desperately sought. Was it too much to ask for a break? Apparently so.

“Jeanie, you okay?” the bartender asked as he served an older man at the bar a beer.

Of course she’s not all right. The woman is being harassed by shifters, jackass!

The woman nodded as she went to collect dirty glasses and empty bottles from the table full of rowdy men. “I’m fine.”

“Yes, you certainly are fine,” a man with short, sandy brown hair said as he reached out and grabbed her ass. “Mmm, come on, sugar.”

She pushed away from him and scurried towards the bar. Mason groaned as he set his beer down. As much as he wanted to enjoy his time off, he wasn’t about to let a woman be manhandled by a group of drunken assholes. Shifters or not. The fact they were supernaturals only meant he could fight them head on and not have to hold as much back.

It’d be a real shame to kill one of these assholes. He snorted. A real shame.

The bartender put his palms down on the bar top and glared at the group of men. It was clear to see the man would attempt to protect his waitress. He was just playing it smart—avoiding a conflict if at all possible. It’s what Mason had been trying to do but suspected his attempts were in vain. He smiled.

Oh, well, kicking the shit out of someone will help me sleep better.

The door to the bar opened and Mason’s heart stopped for a fraction of a second as his gaze ran over the most beautiful creature he’d ever seen. The woman had to be at least five-eight and at six foot two he liked to avoid having to bend nonstop to kiss them if at all possible. She’d work just fine.

The low-rise, boot-cut jeans she had on caught his attention immediately. Her toned abdomen showed, revealing a silver bellybutton ring. It was perfect. She was perfect. Gathering her up in his arms and spending the remainder of the night and most of the next day fucking her senseless chased his homesick blues away, replacing them with a rather optimistic outlook.

Long, shiny blonde hair stopped just before the small of her back. It was hair that a man would pay money just to be allowed the opportunity to run his fingers through and see it fanned out on the bed while sliding in and out of her. The very thought made Mason’s dick hard.

She smiled, making her classically beautiful face even more appealing. Her high cheekbones, narrow, slightly upturned nose and full rose-colored lips made his body throb with need. As his cock began to dig painfully into his black jeans, he instantly regretted not shacking up with the last hottie he’d crossed paths with. She’d been easy on the eyes and more than willing to have some fun but he felt compelled to get on the road and head home. Easy fucks weren’t something he normally passed on.

The bizarre urge to get on the road and head home had stayed with him and gotten stronger and stronger until he’d neared here. He’d given in to the compulsion to pull off, find a bite to eat and grab a beer. Somehow, he’d ended up here. It wasn’t as though the bar was close to the highway. No. Mason had driven a good distance off course before stopping. It wasn’t like he even had a choice. Something here had called to him. If he was right, it was the blonde.

“Hot damn,” a man at the table full of assholes said. “Take a look at the legs on that one. The rack isn’t bad either. How you doin’, sugar?”

Instantly, Mason found himself fighting the beast within, doing his best to keep the wolf caged. The urge to kill every one of the men for daring to look in the woman’s direction was so strong it shocked him. He clenched his fist, digging tiny crescent-shaped wounds into the palm of his hand and not caring in the least.

Jeanie went to the blonde quickly and Mason made sure he utilized every ounce of his supernatural gifts. First up, his ultrasensitive hearing. “Chan, you’re here. Ohmygod, I can’t believe it. When did you get in? Hey, I thought you weren’t coming until ten.”

The blonde smiled and his stomach did a flip-flop. If her flashing her pearly whites had that effect on him, he was screwed. Hopefully, in the literal sense if he played his cards right.

The blonde winked at her friend. “Hon, its eleven now. Don’t worry. I thought I’d head down and see if you needed a lift home or a little help?”

Her voice was every bit as smooth and sexy as she was. The need to hear her whispering sweet nothings in his ear while he fucked her left Mason fighting the urge to run to her and toss her over his shoulder. Fucking her was definitely something he would be doing before he left for home.

“Chandra Holbeck, are you telling me that you actually drove here for once?” Jeanie asked, sounding shocked.

Chandra. Chan. Mason let the name roll around in his head, taking more pleasure from it than he should.

Fuck, even her name makes me horny.

She laughed. He cupped his erection, praying for relief. When she spoke, she offered no such thing. “Uhh, please, Jeanie. You know me better than that. I didn’t drive. I walked. It’s gorgeous out. I can’t get enough of the fresh mountain air.”

Mason wanted to jump up and shout at her for being stupid enough to walk around at night, alone with shifters frequenting the area—drunk ones at that. Somehow, he managed to hold back. It wasn’t easy. Maybe the beast within him wanted to be fucking her tonight as bad as the man so it didn’t want to risk the opportunity by opening his mouth and inserting his foot.

Oh, we are so getting a piece of that tonight, my friend.

The woman slipped off the jean jacket she had on, leaving her in a tiny red fitted t-shirt. The cream-colored swells of her breasts showed due to the deep V-cut of it. Never before had Mason wanted to cover a sexy woman’s body from view but now he did. Wrapping her in a blanket and taking her home to peel back the layers and unwrap the prize inside in privacy was all he wanted to do. None of these men deserved to look upon her. She was special.

Special? What the hell am I thinking? She’s just another piece of ass.

Even as the words entered his mind, Mason knew they were a lie. She was more than just a piece of ass—way more and that scared him. Thankfully, the very idea of having his dick sinking into her lush body more than turned him on. It managed to set him on the verge of a full-shift and with his position as alpha male and right hand to Brayen—the guardian of the wolves—losing control wasn’t a problem. He was stronger than that. Or so he’d thought. The blonde before him challenged the theory at an alarming rate.

Chandra glanced around the bar, seeming to soak it all in with a childlike wonderment that made Mason smile. “Man, I missed this place. It’s packed.” Her brow creased. “Bertin, where’s Diane?”

The bartender shifted awkwardly. “She never showed and I haven’t been able to get her by phone,” Bertin said, sounding anything but pleased. “It’s good to have you home, Chan. The place wasn’t the same without you.”

Something passed over Chandra’s face. She walked quickly to the bartender, slid her arm around his waist and sent spikes of jealousy ramming through Mason’s body. “If you’re worried about Diane, which I can tell you are, go look for her. I’ll take care of things here while you’re gone. And it’s good to see you too, Bertin.”

He wouldn’t dare leave two women alone to run this bar with those assholes here.

Bertin nodded. “Okay, I’ll be back as soon as I can. You sure you’ll be okay?”

What? Mason had to fight not to fall out of the booth from sheer shock. There was no way in hell any man in his right mind would leave two women with the likes of the characters in the bar. The man was clearly insane.

Chandra did a rather long, sensual blink that had Mason’s entire body reacting to it as if it were hard-core porn. If she could do that to him with no more than a look, imagine what she could do with a touch. The very idea left his cock throbbing.

“Go on, we’ll be fine. I promise,” she said softly.

Bertin smiled and Mason considered ripping his head off and pinning it to a dartboard. He’s noticed several of them on the wall nearest the pool tables on his way in. They’d work nicely.

“Thanks, Chan. Keep an eye on the big group. They’re a bit rambunctious tonight. Jeanie is nervous dealing with them and I think they know it.”

A bit rambunctious? They’re psychotic.

Chandra nodded and patted Bertin’s shoulder as she walked behind the bar to pick up where he’d left off. Bertin hesitated just a moment before turning and glancing directly at Mason. Their gazes locked. The slight nod the bartender gave him had Mason wondering what the hell was going on. Had the man sensed Mason wasn’t human? Did he know Mason could and would protect the women at all costs? How could that be? Mason wasn’t even positive about what was going on—why the need to protect the blonde especially was so great. How the hell could some stranger hold the key?

All he knew for sure was if one of those assholes so much as sneezed in the blonde’s direction, it would be the last thing they ever did. Mason raked his gaze over them, coming close to daring them to try something.

He felt like fucking the blonde until one of them passed out. Considering his legendary stamina, Mason had little fear he’d be the first one to fall asleep.

“Jeanie, how about something a little more upbeat? I really don’t want to hear some guy singing about losing his wife, job, dog and pickup truck tonight. It’s depressing,” Chandra said, as she leaned forward and put her hand over the older man’s at the bar. “Hey, Grandpa. How are you doing tonight? You’re not getting yourself into any trouble, are you? I’ve been worried sick that you’d go causing an uproar while I was gone.”

Grandpa?

Jeanie headed towards the jukebox quickly and selected a new sequence of songs. The first one that came on was about a young girl having issues fighting the moonlight. Mason couldn’t help but smile. Being a werewolf left him having roughly the same problem, though he’d never once thought to write a song about it.

“Yeah, Grandpa,” the man who had been hassling Jeanie mocked as he lifted his beer in the air. “Have you been a good boy tonight?”

The old man glanced over his shoulder but said nothing to the group. He simply stared at them with a look that would have been intimidating if it wasn’t coming from a man who appeared to be pushing ninety.

I’m not exactly a spring chicken. Thank the gods I don’t look my age.

“Damn, Fred, that looked like a challenge to me,” a buzz-cut blond said. He sat next to the one called Fred and grinned from ear to ear.

Mason could no longer hold back. He eased forward in his seat, ready and willing to kill something. If he was lucky it would be a table full of assholes. After he was done with them, he’d take Chandra, get a room, and spend the night fucking her brains out.

His brashness made him cringe. Somehow, even thinking about her in terms like that, sickened him. You don’t make love to women, idiot. You fuck them. Get over the self-imposed guilt trip.

He locked gazes with the old man at the bar and an unseen force slammed into him. It stole his breath. Mason tried to stand, only to find himself pinned to his seat.

What the hell?

© copyright August 2011, Mandy M Roth

This is a work of fiction. All characters, events, and places are of the author’s imagination and not to be confused with fact. Any resemblance to living persons or events is merely coincidence.

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CONTEST: Why Connie Can’t Come to the Phone

Since I’m getting endless calls today for someone named Connie who apparently typed in her phone number wrong when applying for health insurance quotes online, I think I’ll have a contest. How to enter? Simply comment here or on my FB page where this was first posted, telling me what I should say to each Health Ins company calling here today (interrupting my work which in turn takes income from my family). What will you be entered for a chance to w*n? An ebook copy of THE BET and THE COWBOY by (my pen name) Kennedy Kovit. Contest will run through Jan 5th, 2013.

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Excerpt: Crazy for You by Kennedy Kovit

M/F Contemporary Romance

Meredith is home again, ready to settle down in her small town and open the antique shop she’s always dreamed of owning. She’s had enough of powerful men trying to use her and wants to simply fade away from the dating scene and enjoy life. When she runs into the diner’s new owner, she quickly realizes her master plan might have been premature.

Landry left life in the fast lane for life on Main Street. He’s sworn off women for a while. They’re nothing but trouble. Meredith is no exception. In fact, he’s pretty sure she’s not quite right in the head, but for some reason he gets her offbeat, whimsical behavior and craves being around it, not to mention she’s smokin’ hot and oozes sex appeal. It’s hard to fight nature’s pull even while chanting, “I’ve sworn off women.”

Rating: This full-length contemporary novel contains explicit sex scenes told with frank, graphic language. The book has a quirky heroine who is not above bedazzling her way through life, even though she can’t seem to pretty-up her past and an ex-uptight hero who learns to laugh all while breaking his number one rule—no more women.

EXCERPT

Must be 18 years and older to read. If not, please leave the site.

Chapter One

“Hey, Meredith.”

I glanced to the side to find my brother, Samson, grinning like a fool as he waited outside the door of the new town diner. He was entirely too chipper for my liking.

“Miss me that much?” I asked, pulling my sunglasses down to the end of my nose. I tapped the edge of them.

He took one look at my attire and grunted. “Those heels are too high for you and your skirt is too short.” He held the door to the diner open for me. “And your blouse is cut too low. It’s really thin.” He made a motion to take his outer shirt off and I groaned.

He’d get naked just to keep anyone from daring to see I had any shape to me.

“Samson, enough.” I rolled my eyes, laughing at him. “My heels are the same as I wear almost daily. The skirt goes past my knees and the blouse isn’t showing anything it shouldn’t. Stop overreacting.”

He didn’t look pleased with me as he ushered me past the diner patrons to a cozy corner near the counter. He practically pushed me into the seat in the back, going again for his shirt. I wouldn’t be the least bit shocked if he demanded I put a potato sack on.

I stood and put my hands on my hips, unconcerned if I made a scene. I’d known most of the people in the diner all my life. They were used to my theatrics by now. It was doubtful anything I said or did would sway their opinion of me much. “Samson, do not make me drag you by your ear out to the street before I kick you plum in your backside. I’ll do it.”

“You’ve done it before,” someone said, making me smile.

Samson reached for me. “Mer, you should cover up. I can see your…umm…” He glanced at my chest and paled. It was comical seeing how unable he was to say the word breasts when referring to mine. Apparently, in his world, anyone related to him did not possess them. “Please.”

“I’m a woman.” I shook my chest slightly and he grew green around the edges. “They come with the territory.”

“Don’t remind me,” he said, putting his head down.

I glanced past him at a table full of women I didn’t know. They were watching my brother as if he were fresh meat. Annoyed, I shot them a diva stare and cleared my throat, catching their attention. “He’s about to eat lunch with me. I’d appreciate it if you weren’t mentally undressing him the entire time. I won’t be able to digest my food.”

Samson’s eyes widened a second before he tipped his head, laughing hard. “Oh, Mer. I missed you.” The women glanced away and I was thankful. The last thing I wanted to think of my brother as was a sex symbol. In my mind, Samson was anything but one.

Peggy and Marsha, two town locals and mother hens, grinned as they spotted Samson and me. He groaned. “Sorry ahead of time,” he said. “I thought we could enjoy a meal out together without anyone pouncing on you.”

I snorted. With a town the size of Paxton Falls, everyone knew your business and made it theirs in no time flat. “Fat chance of that.”

They approached. Peggy winked. “Samson never mentioned you were coming in for a visit.” Her swagger was almost as legendary as her deep, southern drawl.

My brother stiffened.

Taking a deep breath, I prepared to face the firing squad. “I’m not visiting. I’m moving back to the area.”

Peggy touched her chest lightly, and Marsha gasped loud enough to draw everyone’s attention. “You’re moving home?”

Hushed murmurs filled the diner. I waited for them to die down before staring around at everyone. “Yes,” I said. “I’m moving home.”

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Peggy asked, swatting Samson in the back of the head. “We could have had a welcome home party for her. We could have had cake.”

“And cookies,” Marsha added, giving Samson the evil eye.

I snorted and decided to come to his rescue. “Actually, he only found out this morning when I called him on my way in from the city.”

Peggy and Marsha circled us like sharks. “What brought this on?” Marsha asked.

Samson straightened in the chair. “I’d like an answer to that myself.”

More than one reason had caused me to pack several bags, load up my car and drive straight through the night to come home. None of which I wanted to get into with the town gossip gals, even if I did love them like family.

“It was just time for me to make a change,” I offered, hoping it would be enough.

Marsha seemed to catch on to the fact that I didn’t want to get into it all now. She pointed at the specials on the board above the counter. “Looks like he has quite the selection.”

“He who?” I asked. As smiles formed on both women’s faces, I knew I’d just been baited.

“Landry,” Peggy said, smiling innocently. “He owns the diner now. Bought it after Old Man Henry passed.”

Marsha gestured to the specials again. “He’s handsome too. Wonder if he’s married.”

I was quite sure she already knew the answer to that question. From the look on her face, she was up to something and so was her buddy.

Samson chuckled. “No. Landry isn’t married.”

Peggy and Marsha perked, appearing way too interested in the diner owner. Knowing they’d be badgering Samson for juicy details, I excused myself and went in search of a restroom, or anything that would prevent them from turning their attention back to me.

I was headed to what I assumed was the way to the restrooms when my childhood friend Jeremiah entered the diner. He spotted me and smiled wide. “Mer, what are you doing home?”

“She’s moving back,” Peggy supplied.

Jeremiah’s jaw dropped. “No way.”

“Way,” I said. “And I have got to pee.”

He grunted. “Still as sweet as ever. I need to talk to Samson a sec. You staying so I can catch up with you?”

“Yep.”

He headed past me and I turned, walking right into a muscular man in a red t-shirt. His chocolate brown gaze fell on me just as the plate he had in his hand wobbled. I reached up fast, steadying it, unable to look away. He was simply breathtaking.

Tall, dark and bearing food. What more could a girl want?

I took a step to the side and he moved the same way. Clearing my throat, I attempted to move again and found him mirroring me. He let out a nervous chuckle and I smiled.

“Sorry,” he said, his voice deep, making my insides tingle.

We attempted to go around one another again only to once more walk into each other. Unable to help myself, I burst into laughter. I took hold of his steely waist and gasped at the feel of him.

His dark gaze heated as he stared down at me from his six-four perch. I wasn’t exactly short at five-nine and enjoyed being next to men who were taller than me.

I licked my lower lip, suddenly thirsty for more than water. “Uh, you stay. I’ll go.”

“Meredith?” Marsha asked, her voice piercing the diner. “My, my, what have you bumped into?”

Peggy clapped her hands. “A hunk!”

I wasn’t known for being shy. I did what felt natural. I touched the man’s hips and began to move toward him and then away again, all the while singing a song from a group I loved. It was about mating and the games played to achieve it. It had a very James Bond style to it, a vibe I loved. I assumed he’d be like anyone else meeting me for the first time, confused. When he held the plate up and moved his hips, I lost it, laughing and clinging to him.

He followed, doing the same, holding me with one arm and balancing a plate in the other. “Mmm, is that a devil in my pocket?”

I tipped my head, staring up at him, shocked he’d clearly heard of the song. It wasn’t exactly well-known. “Willing to be a contestant? If so, I’ll arm wrestle Peggy for you.”

“Sit,” Samson said, his voice low and warning.

“Can’t,” I answered.

“And why is that?”

Shaking my head in a dramatic fashion, I glanced over my shoulder at Samson. “Hello, did you miss that I’m in the middle of an impromptu game of chance? You cannot just walk away from that. It would be—”

“Sacrilegious,” the man supplied.

I laughed.

Samson grunted. “Do not encourage her. She’s crazy enough on her own.”

I winked. “No doubt exists that all women are crazy; it’s only a question of degree.”

The hunk near me chuckled. “W.C. Fields. Nice.”

Impressed, I faced him, my hands returning to his hips. “Alas, my love, our time has to come to an end.” I licked my lower lip. “Nature calls.”

“Pity. I was enjoying our time together, my love.” He moved at the same time, brushing the entire length of his body against me as he moved past. From the look in his eyes, he knew exactly what he was doing—making my body teeter on the edge of igniting. Though he seemed to be equally affected. At least I assumed he was, since he walked right into an empty chair while he was still watching me.

Samson was up in a heartbeat, coming for me, giving the man a hard look. “Meredith, did you decide what you wanted?”

“Oh, pick him!” Peggy said, pointing to the stud in the red t-shirt.

Grinning, I glanced around for a restroom, wanting to not only hide, but splash water on my face as well.

My cell phone rang and I sighed, reaching into the pocket of my skirt to retrieve it. I made a move to take it outside and backed right into the hunk in the red t-shirt. He wagged his brows. “How about I stand still?”

I blushed and knew my entire face was now red, something that didn’t happen often. “Sounds like a plan.”

I opened my phone and did the strangest thing. I put my palm on the man’s chest as I greeted the caller. As soon as I heard the voice on the other end, I cringed, annoyed that I’d bothered to answer it at all. “Brice, what do you want? I quit, remember. I used small words in my resignation letter to keep it simple for you. Should I have pasted pictures instead? Ooo, maybe I should have penned it across my chest. You know, where you always seemed to be looking.”

“I want you back, Meredith,” he said, sounding desperate. “I can’t do this without you.”

“Oh, I know you can’t. I tried to tell you as much, but you were too busy talking down to me like I was one of your little followers. You know, the ones who can’t wait to snag a rich husband.”

“I said I was sorry. Please, don’t—”

I rolled my eyes. “I wasn’t aware apologies came in the form of you showing up for work drunk off your ass, all the while trying to grab mine. Just because your daddy owns the company doesn’t mean you’re fit to take over running it. Grow up, Brice.”

“Meredith, I know. More than you. I need you. You keep me on track. You’re my right hand. I don’t know how I did it without you.”

I snorted. “Oh, I know exactly how you did it before me. You walked out to that secretary pool and picked the doe-eyed ones, the ones you knew would spend more time under your desk than at their own.”

He exhaled loudly. “See. This is a prime example of why I need you back. You don’t shy away from keeping me in my place.”

“You don’t need me,” I said. “You need the number to a high-priced whorehouse. Wait, isn’t that on your speed dial?”

“Cut me some slack, Meredith. I’m eating crow here.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “Cut you some slack? Uh, no. I walked in, almost straight out of college, and you saw a young girl from a small town, one you thought you could bully and order around because in your mind, small town equals simple. Little brains and lots of legs and tits. Isn’t that what I heard you telling Materson?”

“Well, no, I didn’t…umm…”

“Don’t bother denying it, Brice. Did you ever read my resume or did you hire me based on looks? You know what, don’t bother answering that either. I think we both know which you did.”

He whimpered. “I’m begging here, Meredith. I need you back. I can prove how much I’m committed to making this right with you.”

“How can you prove it? Did you take vows to be a monk? Start going to sex addicts meetings? Pull your head out of your ass? I’m all ears, Mr. Jonston. How can you prove that you’re committed to making anything work?”

“First, tell me where you are.” He swallowed hard. “Are you at your father’s house?”

I wrinkled my brow. “Why do you want to know if I’m at my dad’s place?”

“Just do me this favor,” he pleaded. “Where are you?”

“I’m at the diner in the center of town, why?”

“I’ll call you right back.” He hung up, leaving me standing there, staring at my phone.

It took me a moment to realize I was still caressing the hunk’s chest. I jerked my hand away and blushed. Damn, the man certainly had an effect on me. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he countered. “I found that conversation highly entertaining.”

“I didn’t,” Samson said, appearing behind the hunk with his arms crossed over his chest. “That jerkwad grabbed your ass?”

The hunk motioned to Samson. “Looks like your boyfriend isn’t too happy.”

My jaw dropped. “Oh, eww. Yuck.”

Samson rubbed his brow. “I’m not her boyfriend. I’m her brother, Landry. You knew that already.”

I grinned. “You’re Landry?”

“Guilty,” he said, his brown gaze locked on me.

 

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More Pen Name Goodness! The Cowboy by Kennedy Kovit

Yep, here is another excerpt from one of my pen name books. This one is The Cowboy by Kennedy Kovit

Excerpt from THE COWBOY–Blazing Hearts Series, Book 2

Jake spends his days training horses and his nights training women in the bedroom. The women are simply a means to an end—a way to find release. The woman he wants took off like a thief in the night years ago, leaving him wondering each and every day where she is and if she’s all right. It’s her he wants in his bed. It’s her he wants to do kinky things with. When Teresa arrives back in town without warning everything changes. She wants a relationship with him. He wants far more than that. He wants total surrender, but is she really willing to give it?

Rating: This novella contains steamy sex scenes, light BDSM, a hero who is all about getting the heroine into bed and teaching her things good girls just shouldn’t know, and a couple who has had feelings for one another a whole hell of a lot longer than they’re willing to admit. This novella isn’t for everyone, and if you don’t like your sex dirty, your men alpha and your women willing to learn, then this isn’t the book for you.

 

Disclaimer: This book is a work of fiction and is not meant to be a how-to book or a manual to the BDSM/fetish lifestyle. It is merely meant to be read and provide a mental escape for your enjoyment. Always practice safe sex and never enter into BDSM play without proper knowledge and understanding of the lifestyle and a trained, trusted practitioner to guide you through it all. Serious injury or death could result from improper BDSM/fetish play. Safe, sane and consensual (SSC) is a must. The Raven Books and its authors, owners and operators are not responsible for any injuries or death that may occur from improper use of techniques or information found within this document.

 

Chapter One

Jake Earhart held the horse’s hoof steady as he picked out debris from the metal shoe. The horse, Churchill, a relatively young gelding yet, was good about the process. He trusted Jake, and Jake in turn trusted him. Since he was little, Jake had a way about him with horses. He understood them and they seemed to get him more than most people. The locals tended to band about the term horse whisperer. He didn’t much care for it. There wasn’t any magic involved. Just patience and a firm, guiding hand. Something he’d learned to have a lot of. He was a trainer. Plain and simple. He wasn’t some horse magic man.

He finished up and then patted the horse on the backside. “Good boy.”

The horse snorted and glanced back at him as if he understood the compliment. He checked Churchill’s water bucket, lifted it and took it from the stall and to the hose. He filled the bucket with cool, fresh water and returned it to the horse’s stall. He winked. “There you go, boy.”

Churchill had a look of gratitude in his eyes.

Jake carefully assured the stall door was latched before heading out of the barn. The rest of the horses had already been tended to and were set for the night. He loved his job. He didn’t mind that it kept him up late at night and started early in the morning. The horses were pretty much his life and he liked it that way. Before he’d come to Garnes Ranch he’d been lost. Training horses gave him purpose. They needed him and he needed them.

The night sky, filled with stars, was as clear as could be. Pausing, Jake stared up at them, taking solace in the fact that somewhere out there they were shining down on her—the one who’d got away.

Teresa Lopez.

Lowering his gaze, his eyes grew moist. He wasn’t an emotional guy, at least not that he ever let others see. He wasn’t prone to breakdowns and wasn’t much for wearing his feelings on his sleeves, but when it came to Teresa, a whole lot didn’t make sense. Never had. She’d found a way under his shell when they were teenagers and managed to secure herself a permanent place in his heart.

He snorted, remembering the looks they’d drawn when they’d walked around town hand in hand. She stood nearly a foot shorter than him. She’d always seemed so tiny, so delicate next to him—this mass of dark brown hair with a set of huge blue eyes that, when they looked at him, he could swear saw right through him. And he’d always wanted to protect her. When she’d disappeared without a trace from Middlefield years ago, Jake’s entire life had changed.

He glanced to the side, in the direction her childhood home stood. No one lived there anymore. Her father had passed when she was little, and her mother had taken up with whatever transient she could. Her grandfather had been the glue that held the family together. The same year he passed was the year Teresa had vanished. She’d never said goodbye. Nothing. No hint she was leaving. It hurt as much today as it had the day she vanished.

Jake looked up at the stars once more. “Night, sweetie.”

Others told him he was a fool for continuing to hold out any hope she was still alive. He couldn’t give up on her. He’d been given up on in his life and he knew what that felt like. It wasn’t in him to do it to her. He had a trip set next month for New Mexico. He’d gather his folder of old photos and possible leads and work the streets again while he was there in his downtime. He’d find her or die trying.

Jake shut the barn door and glanced up at the main house, noting the lights were all off. His place was on the grounds but smaller and farther back on the property. He liked it that way. It was actually more space than he needed. He was one man. He didn’t need a three-bedroom ranch house. Unlike Tyson, his close friend and foreman of the ranch, Jake didn’t enjoy being around a lot of people. He preferred the company of horses. They never betrayed your trust or vanished without a trace.

As Jake walked towards his home, he passed Tyson’s place. The bedroom window was open, and he paused as he heard the telltale signs of a woman being pleased.

“Oh, Ty, yes, there. Yes,” Lexie cried out loud enough for anyone in the area to hear.

Jake grinned. Sounded as if Tyson and Lexie were doing well together. Their wedding date was fast approaching. Tyson had been in love with Lexie for years. It was about time the two of them got on the same page and got the ball rolling on the rest of their lives.

“Mmm, baby,” Tyson said. “I’m gonna spank that sexy lil’ ass of yours again.”

“Yes,. please,” Lexie returned. “There. Again.”

Her pleas for rougher bedroom play left Jake’s body responding. He moved off just a bit and stood behind a tree near Tyson’s place. He knew how perverted it was for him to be listening in on his friend having sex with the woman he was going to marry, but Jake couldn’t help himself. He stood there a while longer, listening as Tyson brought Lexie to culmination.

Jake snorted as he continued on towards his place. His cock stirred slightly at the idea of sex. It had been two weeks since he’d last scratched his manly itch two towns over. There was an underground club there that allowed him to find the type of sex he needed—hardcore, kinky with no apologies. The place was a safe haven for deviant types like himself. The people were all likeminded and willing. Just what he required.

He flexed his hand, remembering the sound it had made when spanking the sexy ass of a blonde number with bit tits and long legs. She’d liked it rough and had begged him to flog her. He’d, of course, given in to her needs, paying special attention to her tits. They’d pinked up real pretty with each swat and she’d moaned, wanting more. She was good enough to get him off, but nothing he wanted to wake up next to the rest of his life. Though he might seek her out again soon. She didn’t seem to mind him being rough in bed with her. And damn, he liked his sex rough. Plus, she was good at sucking his dick, which always helped.

He shook the thoughts from his head. There wasn’t much he could do about it all now. It was too late to try driving to the club, and there was a chance the blonde wouldn’t be there. He wasn’t in the mood for wannabes. He didn’t want some newcomer more in need of theory than anything else trying to get him to be her Dom. That wasn’t how it worked, but he’d turn blue trying to explain so he didn’t bother. He’d be jacking off again tonight for sure now. It was just easier that way.

He walked, enjoying the silence that enveloped him. He kept going until he finally reached his ranch-style home. The porch light kicked on and he was happy he’d replaced it. Prior to getting a light with a sensor, he’d taken a few rather nasty spills up the stairs to the porch. It was normally too dark to see at night.

The minute his boots touched the wooden steps, his dog, Charger, was at the other side of the door barking, sounding happy Jake was home. More often than not, Charge roamed the ranch with Jake, but they’d had some coyote problems as of late, and he didn’t want his dog getting tangled up in all that. Charger wasn’t a fan of being cooped up all day in the house. Jake understood that. He knew what it was like to be locked away.

He shuddered at the remembered pain of his past. His childhood wasn’t something he was proud of. In fact, he went out of his way to never discuss it. Luther Garnes, the ranch owner, was fully aware of it and so was Ms. Simmons, the counselor Garnes had employed to visit the ranch as often as possible when all the boys were younger. She still came around, and Jake had a sneaky suspicion it had more to do with visiting Garnes than checking up on their well-being. Other than that, his story was his and his alone. Each boy that had passed through the ranch had one. None were pretty, and plenty of boys had called Garnes Ranch their home.

It had been hard coming to Middlefield when he was just in his early teens. He’d been from the neighboring town and everyone there seemed to know the truth of his childhood. So many knew but none bothered to help. No one cared that the little boy born to the town whore had no one to live with or nowhere to go when she died. No one gave a shit when he was only eleven years old and wandering the streets, looking for shelter on cold or stormy nights. And no one cared when his stomach was so empty that the sounds it made kept him awake. For years he’d lived like that. He’d made his way around the county, learning to live on his own and to steal what he needed. It wasn’t until an older couple from Middlefield spotted him looking for food outside a local truck stop that anyone intervened.

He smiled at the thought of the Kingstons. They were still in Middlefield. He’d see them in passing and occasionally he’d stop by their farm to see if they needed anything. They’d been instrumental in getting him hooked up with Garnes and living in Middlefield. The town was perfect size wise. It had decent amenities without the bullshit that came with living in a larger town. Mostly, no one looked at him as the whore’s boy. They just knew he was one of the men who had grown up on the Garnes’s Ranch, and in Middlefield that meant you worked hard and were a stand-up person, regardless of your past.

Jake opened the door and Charger pushed out past him, darting off the porch and into the night. The dog stopped near the tree line long enough to lift his leg and do his business before he twisted and ran like hell past the side of the house and into a wooded area.

“Stay close,” he said as he headed into the house. A shower and relieving the ache of his cock was in order.

 

*

Teresa Lopez revved the engine in her tiny car. It was hardly roadworthy anymore, but it was all she had and it would get her where she needed to be.

Home.

Already the sun had set and night had come upon her. She wasn’t a fan of driving in the dark and for good reason. The country roads that littered the area were notorious for sharp turns with little warning prior to the bend. Sure she’d grown up around the area, but that didn’t mean she’d memorized every road in the county. Far from it.

Her stomach tightened as she spotted the signs for the turnoff to Middlefield. It had been years since she’d set foot on her hometown soil. Years since she’d seen her friends and loved ones.

Specifically Jake.

Just thinking of him made emotions well in her. She could only hope he hadn’t settled down and married. If so, she was heading home and tearing the scab off old wounds for no reason.

Not true, she reminded herself.

She glanced to her purse, feeling better knowing it had pepper spray in it. When she’d cut and run she’d grabbed just what she needed and no more. Hale, the sick bastard she’d shacked up with, didn’t know about her past. Didn’t know she was from Middlefield. He only knew what she shared, and long ago she’d taken to sharing next to nothing about herself. It was better that way with as much as she moved around.

But it was time to stop running and put roots down. She just prayed the man she wanted to start those roots with was still available and willing to at least let her explain herself. It was time she came clean with him. Time he knew all the reasons she’d left. It hadn’t just been his desires or her fear that she’d been pregnant that had driven her away. Her mother’s boyfriend had had a hand in it all, and Jake needed to at least hear that, regardless the outcome.

She drove faster than she should on the old road. She couldn’t seem to help herself. She was in a hurry to get home yet terrified all the same of rejection. Jake had earned the right to reject her, and it would serve her right with the way she’d run out on him without saying goodbye.

Her heart ached as she remembered her behavior. She wasn’t proud of herself. Far from it. He’d loved her with all his being, and her response had been to panic and bolt when he’d finally opened up fully to her.

Tears clouded her vision and she continued to go faster than the speed limit. She glanced to her purse, thinking of fishing out the old photo she had of her and Jake and then looked up just in time to see the old bridge far too late to adjust her course or speed. As she struck the old wooden guard rails, she closed her eyes, preparing for the worst, believing she deserved it.

 

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Pen Name Book: Trading Teon by Reagan Hawk

Have you read my pen name book, Trading Teon? Here is an excerpt from it!

 

 

The Beast Masters Series, Book 1

Garon and Lorne, shapeshifting males of the Ralenium race, are fierce guns for hire in the universe. When a cargo ship transporting women charged with crimes by the Galactic Star Union arrives on their planet, the men make the traders an offer they can’t refuse. Planet Ralen is sorely lacking in women, and the males have an inborn desire to dominate, to tame females and to reproduce. When their inner beasts’ clocks start ticking and the burning need to spread their seed consumes them, they go on the hunt for the perfect female. Too bad both men want the same woman.

Teon, a lady with a place in high society, thought life as she knew it was over when she was wrongfully charged with a crime by her stepmother. A prisoner en route to a barren planet to serve her sentence, she’s presented with an opportunity to start over again on the planet Ralen. The catch is she has to be willing to be claimed by two males. Not just any males mind you, two burning hunks who are ready to fight to the death if need be to share her bed.

 

 

 

Novella contains graphic language, light BDSM play/themes, extreme alpha male shifters who cannot wait to get a collar on their female to brand her as theirs for life, women willing to submit and scorching hot sex scenes. If you don’t like strong men who take control in the bedroom and sometimes out, or if you’re in the market for long, drawn-out plots, this isn’t the series for you. This novella is hot and dirty and won’t apologize for that fact.

Disclaimer

This book is a work of fiction and is not meant to be a how-to book or a manual to the BDSM/fetish lifestyle. It is merely meant to be read and provide a mental escape for your enjoyment. Always practice safe sex and never enter into BDSM play without proper knowledge and understanding of the lifestyle and a trained, trusted practitioner to guide you through it all. Serious injury or death could result from improper BDSM/fetish play. Safe, sane and consensual (SSC) is a must. The Raven Books and its authors, owners and operators are not responsible for any injuries or death that may occur from improper use of techniques or information found within this document.

Chapter One

Garon of Ralen neared the outer quadrant’s guard tower. The path to it was well-worn, unlike some of the other paths on Ralen. Regardless of how used the path was, the forests of Ralen were known to be fast-growing. The huge, deep blue of the leaves of the talium tree were starting to turn yellow on the ends, a sign of the season change coming upon them. Soon the area would see temperature drops. And soon enough the primal heat would be upon many of the men.

Garon reached the tower and ascended the staircase. He entered to check in on the guards stationed there. They’d reported a craft on radar, and since no crafts were scheduled for arrival it had raised a red flag. Ralen wasn’t a planet offworlders dared to arrive at without proper protocol. The Ralen warriors were known to blow things out of the sky first and ask questions later. They were a proud, fierce race. A race known throughout the galaxy.

He leaned over one of the males to survey the screen and grunted as he spotted the shape of the vessel nearing their orbit. Cursed stars. This was the last thing he wanted to deal with today.

Lorne, a seasoned warrior and trusted friend, entered the guard tower. “I heard we have visitors. Any news on who or what they are?”

Garon tapped the screen. “Looks to be a salvage ship.”

“Or traders,” said Lorne, disgust evident.

None of the men were too keen on the salvagers but traders weren’t much higher on the like scale. Both were basically pirates of the skies and tended to deal in goods that were too hot to touch. Since Ralen boasted a planet of fierce warriors, they were often left untouched by the Galactic Guards—free to do as they pleased.

“Sir,” one of the men seated at his station said. “Should I alert the planet-to-air defense team?”

It was on the tip of Garon’s tongue to say yes, but he held back. He glanced to Lorne. “It’s been too many moon cycles since we last had a shipment of women. Think it could be some?”

Lorne worried his jaw and then tipped his head, his long, blond hair falling over one shoulder. “Perhaps. We could allow the vessel to land and see.”

Garon nodded in agreement. He touched the man’s shoulder at the station. “Open the landing platform two.” He looked to Lorne. “It would be wise if an armed team greeted the vessel.”

“Of course,” replied Lorne. “Jaston and his men are on duty now. I’ll send them.”

“Perfect. Tell them we’ll meet them there.”

Garon, Lorne said, using the mind path common to their kind. If women are aboard…

I know. I will see to it any price is paid.

With that Lorne pivoted and left the tower. Garon remained long enough to watch the slow descent of the vessel upon the screen before him. From its sluggish movements and shape he was fast beginning to suspect it was Voxenites, a race of opportunistic bottom feeders who did whatever they had to in order to turn a profit. They’d taken to human trafficking hundreds of years ago and little had been done to stop them. Truth was, planets such as Ralen depended upon them.

Ralenium males far outnumbered females, and nothing the men did lured women willingly to their planet. They were simply too far out on the edges of the quadrants to offer any appeal. They weren’t proud of the fact. It was what it was.

“Sir?” the man at the station asked. “Is it traders? With women?”

There was no mistaking the note of hope in his voice. Galen patted the younger warrior’s shoulder. “Let us hope. Stay and man the station. Should it be traders with women, a summons shall be sent forth.”

The other guards shared a look with the young one. Garon knew hopes would be high and he hated to dash them. The men needed something to look forward to.

He left the tower and made his way down the path in the direction of the landing bays. The outer force field was in the process of retracting. Its opening would be timed perfectly with the vessel’s landing.

While they had technologies, some of the finest in the galaxy, they preferred to do many things the way their ancestors of old did. They did not use any type of craft for surface travel on their planet. They preferred to use their shifted beast forms or that of domesticated animals. It was kinder to their planet.

They’d seen too many planets fall victim to their own advancements to want to see the beauty of Ralen snuffed out.

He spotted Lorne with Jaston and the team of Ralenium men all armed and surrounding the landing pad. They stayed back a safe distance, already knowing what would come next.

There was a flash of red light, and then a popping noise signaling the main control tower was now in control of the vessel’s power and its system. There was no chance the vessel could fire upon them this way and zero chance it could leave without permission.

Lorne motioned to Garon and then pointed to the vessel’s side symbol.

As Garon suspected—Voxenites.

If they came bearing anything other than women, they would find the men ready to hang them by their scaly, webbed feet. None of the Ralenium men thought much of the Voxenites. They were a means to an end. Nothing more.

The ship sputtered to a stop, its engines cutting out with a loud groan. Garon sighed. If the ship refused to start back up, there was no way the traders would be welcome to stay until it was fixed.

 

Garon moved with a quickened pace in the direction of Jaston and the other on-duty guard team. Jaston nodded and then hurried into the main control center.

If their suspicions proved true and the ship carried women, then it was a joyous day. If not, then the security team needed to be prepared. One never knew what one might encounter this far on the edges of the galaxy. Often the area was looked upon as lawless. Often it was.

Garon left the landing bays and entered the main control center and found Jaston near the monitor booth. The relays from the outer towers were no doubt reaching the main control center. Jaston glanced up and made eye contact with Lorne.

“Does Garon have orders?”

Lorne took a deep breath. “He does. Be prepared with your men and ready to greet our visitors.”

“Of course,” answered Jaston, his expression knowing. He relayed the message to one of the men closest to him and then covered the distance between him and Lorne. Jaston lowered his voice. “Traders with females?”

“Garon thinks perhaps it might be.”

Jaston’s jaw set. He nodded and stepped away.

Lorne knew the warrior would show no signs of hope. He knew Jaston was too seasoned to ever let on to his true feelings. All the men were desperate for more women to arrive. This wasn’t news. It was fact. None would risk getting their hopes up. Not yet.

 

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Immortal Ops Interview in Raven Mag Dec Issue!

Curious about my Immortal Ops Series? Want more info? Check out the FREE online publication–The Raven Magazine!

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Raven Books Over Half-Million Self-Published Titles sold!

Michelle Pillow and I have decided to do an end of the year sum up each year. We think its important to keep our readers in the loop. After all, you’re the reason we do what we do. You’re who have made The Raven Books a success. Thank you so much!

The following center bit is taken from last year’s sum up. It tells the story of how Raven came to be so perfectly that I couldn’t possibly do it justice again… so of course, I just used it as is.

“It was difficult to decide to launch a self-publishing/small press endeavor. Even with the support of my friend and fellow author, Michelle M. Pillow, it was still a hard decision to make. So, let me put you in my mindset for mid 2009-2010. I’d had some issues with one of my publishers. I won’t go in to who or what but it’s safe to say that I did not elect to renew my time released contracts with them. Already many of my titles with them had reverted back to me. I’d down some outsourcing, re-releasing several with Samhain Publishing and Ellora’s Cave Publishing but I simply had too many coming out of contract at one time for either publishing house to get out in a timely manner. Plus, I would hear from my editors, this is great but I want some new (non-previously pubbed) work from you. I understood where they were coming from but my readers had other demands. My inbox was exploding with requests/demands for the next books in existing series. Many of the series at that point were out of contract and without a home.

The pressure began to mount as did the emails from readers. After talking with Michelle and realizing she was in the exact situation as I was, we thought, well, we could try publishing them ourselves. Keep in mind, this was still very “new” to authors. We’d already spent years being pointed at and singled out because we were at e-first publishing housing. (We’ve been published since 2004 and it was with an e-first/ebook publisher.)

I know I was actually told I wasn’t a “real” author because of the publishing houses I was with and that I needed to post my sales number to prove I was actually making any money. Insulted, and frankly ready to kick a few select persons straight in the teeth, I elected not to post my sales numbers. It was none of their damn business. I didn’t ask to see their income, asking to see mine was rude.

It was pointed out more than once that I might as well be vanity published instead of bothering with Samhain and Ellora’s Cave and other e-first pubs. I am NOT the only author who went through this. I believe the majority of us with these companies from nearly the start dealt with this. It was just the way it was. So, when it came to 2009-2010 time frame I’ll admit to being gun shy about wanting to publish my own books—re-release or not.

Michelle and I talked and talked and talked and decided nothing ventured, nothing gained. We’d stood up against the naysayers with small press and came out the other side smiling, we’d do the same with self-publishing. We’d already been heavily involved in The Raven Happy Hour. It actually comes from a nightclub in my Daughter of Darkness books that was hugely popular with my readers, so much so that it spawned into an online free ongoing story and an online hangout for our readers and fellow author friends. It was wildly popular and very time consuming. It already had a following, a name and we were known for Raven-ish promos so it was a no brainer to call our self-publishing endeavor The Raven Books.

It also was a no brainer to tackle new territory with Michelle. I am a cover artist as well as an author. I’ve done covers for many, many houses (over 500 covers to date) under the brush name Natalie Winters so we already had a professional cover artist at our disposal and I was already doing websites for so many people I lost count, why not do The Raven Books as well? Michelle worked hard teaching herself to format ebooks for us as well as countless other administrative tasks that would bore a normal person to tears. We put out a call and interviewed possible editors and final line editors. We found several we were comfortable with and hired them out on a per book basis.

We started small, hosting a shopping cart site, uploading our formats, having people buy directly from us. Then, one day we read a news release about Amazon opening its doors to indie/self-pubbed titles. We decided, why not? Barnes and noble did the same and then ARE and others did as well. By July of 2010 we were listed our self-pubbed titles on Amazon, BN, ARE and smashwords (who in turn sends to Sony and Diesel and others).

Putting the titles back in front of the masses was hugely successful. That was when we knew we had a “home” for our out of contract books. Self-pubbing!

More titles came out of contract and we went through the process of hiring editors to go through them again, doing edits, new cover art, new ads, the works. As we were able to get a fair number of them back in front of readers again we realized we could actually write something totally new and self-publish it. Immortal Ops 4 was the very first book I wrote totally with the idea I would publish it. Strategic Vulnerability didn’t just do as well as the other books in the series which I’d gotten rights back to and re-released, it did better!

From there other stories were born with the idea I’d be the one publishing them. It was amazing how creatively energized I felt. I knew I didn’t need to worry about certain things my other publishers would and wouldn’t allow in books. I had the freedom to write what I wanted and how I wanted it. Such an awesome and muse librating thing.

I also realized I could do a side project I’d always wanted to do but couldn’t without hurting my author name branding. I wanted to write contemporary westerns that were erotic. Now, the erotic part isn’t really a stretch for me. It’s the contemporary western part that was vastly different from everything written under the Mandy M. Roth name. Thus, my pen name, Rory Michaels was born. It was a great way to keep the branding I’d established and focus on a new one just related to contemp westerns. All the Rory books are new and never before released. And to date I’ve published several new (never before released) Mandy M. Roth titles as well (Strategic Vulnerability, Master of the Hunt, Winter Solstice and Adam’s Angel). *UPDATE… We’ve pubbed a hell of a lot more than these that are original now [image error] ) Also, I write under the names Reagan Hawk and Kennedy Kovit–both bestselling on Amazon.

Yesterday, I was finally able to sit down and go through my sales reports. I mean, really go through them. I decided to do every report from my top three sales vendors. The goal was to see what books/series were selling well and which had something left to be desires. I have many books and many series. I need to know when to pull focus. I figured this would be a help. Boy did it ever!

As I compiled the data from July 2010- Dec 2011 (from Amazon, BN and ARE) I was stunned at the unit sale numbers coming in. I already knew how much money had been made. I track that very carefully. But this was actual numbers of unit sales clear as day before me. In my mind I’d somehow thought I’d sold maybe 20,000 ebooks. (No, that number doesn’t jive with my income earned but I didn’t really think hard on it. I knew I was earning more per title than I had when they were with other small presses so I naturally assumed it meant a lower unit sales number than what it was.)

Much to my shock and delight, I saw that I was OVER 60,000 self-pubbed ebooks sold from Jul 2010-Dec 2011 *THIS NUMBER HAS CHANGED AND IS UPDATED BELOW* just at the top three. Note: not all my books have been out this entire time. They have been released over the time. I was over the moon with excitement. The number does NOT include any FREE ebooks giving away through KDP select (that total is around 10kish). The total is ONLY units sold and ONLY my selp-pubbed units sold. Not Michelle’s. I would never release her or any author’s sales numbers. None of my titles still with Spice, Samahin or Ellora’s Cave were factored into this. The over 60,000 does NOT include sales figures from the titles when they were with other publishers, these are ONLY the numbers from them being published by me. So be mindful, these numbers are on most titles that are re-releases and just a very few new works. These had already sold first and second editions at other pubs so I was stunned to see them perform this well for me.

To me this was a huge milestone. It added validity to all the hours, all the hard work, all the sleepless nights of getting the Raven going. We honestly have put in many 18 hour days. It also proved to me that we truly have the best community of readers, friends and fellow authors out there.

I’m sure someone will try very hard to dismiss this accomplishment or belittle it. Sadly, there are many who can only find the negative in things. That’s fine. I’ve been dealing with those people since I started writing just over 8years ago and since I was first published. I’ll be dealing with them until I drop, I’m sure. What matters is that I’m ecstatic over the numbers. They’re not what New York could move but they are what “I” could move and that makes each and every single one so VERY important to me. Thank you for helping me reach this personal milestone and for sharing this journey with me to date. Can’t wait to see what tomorrow will bring.

Are Michelle and I moving totally to self-publishing (Raven) only? No. We still have offers from large houses and still have titles with Harlequin Spice Briefs, Samhain Publishing, Virgin Black Lace, Pocket, Ellora’s Cave, Random House, Running Press, Adam’s Media and more. We love the Raven and the freedom it provides. But we also love what other houses provide us as well. Every experience we’ve had to date has helped to mold us into the authors we are today. These sales numbers for my self-pubbed titles are being shared because I’m proud of them and simply wanted to share with “friends, readers and fellow authors”.

I’ve always been extremely supportive of fellow authors and have always appreciated my readers beyond words. I hope these numbers inspire others and that we as authors/readers move forth together as a united front in the publishing community and continue to move the industry forward.”

 

Updated Numbers: Raven Jul2010-Dec2012 sold over a half million self-published ebook titles!

 

Michelle and I want to extend a giant thank you to all our readers. Without your support, your hard work and dedication with helping to spread the word about us and Raven none of this would have been possible. Thank you and Happy Holidays!!!!

Mandy Roth & Michelle Pillow

 

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CONTEST: King of Prey Series-contest now closed winners listed in comment section

To help bring more attention to my King of Prey Series I’m having a contest. How can you be entered to win? Simple, comment here (comments MUST be on http://mandyroth.com/blog/ on this post) on my blog. I’ll use Random.org to select winners. What does the winner win? EBOOK copy of King of Prey (Book I in the King of Prey Series. Contest goes through Dec 18th. I’ll pick two winners and announce both in the comment section of this blog post.

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CONTEST: King of Prey Series

To help bring more attention to my King of Prey Series I’m having a contest. How can you be entered to win? Simple, comment here on my blog. I’ll use Random.org to select winners. What does the winner win? EBOOK copy of King of Prey (Book I in the King of Prey Series. Contest goes through Dec 18th. I’ll pick two winners and announce both in the comment section of this blog post.

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Research that makes me sad

I love to research for books. In fact, if I’m not careful I’ll get lost in the research side of things. Its my nature. I’ve always been this way and always will be this way. Every so often a research topic comes my way for a book or series that I don’t love researching–that the more I dig into it, the more my stomach turns. Still, I research the topic in depth to be able to take snippets and weave those throughout my stories. This is one of those days… a day when, while I LOVE to research, I HATE the topic I’m researching. Its a necessary evil… part of the backbone of a series and how the men came to be. And while its not a pretty part of the world’s history, its a true and accurate part of history–a part that helped spawn the series I’m working on (yes, an existing series). I’ll be here, sickened and pissed for all the innocent lives lost and the victims of this horrendous dark part of our history.

Mandy

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