WeWriWa: He was no man . . . BOUND BY MOONLIGHT

FINALLY! I was finally able to get the rights to all but the first three books in my By Moonlight shape-shifter series. That’s five books to get repackaged with new covers, PR packets, and back out into circulation in both e-format and trade-size. Unfortunately, due to an error on the part of my then agent, the initial trio of novels that set up the series will remain forever in the hands of the publisher in poorly executed contract hell and probably will not be reissued except perhaps in e-format. Sigh . . . Too bad all the public info on contract negotiation that we have now through writers' groups or simply on line wasn’t available back then.
Nevertheless, I’m still over the moon at the chance to get books 4-8 reintroduced (perhaps scanned if I can’t find the original manuscripts) to readers as they lead into my self-pubbed portion of the series. Here’s a peek at BOUND BY MOONLIGHT and hero, deliciously dark, Max Savoie.

Max moved through the room not bothering to disguise his preternatural power, that quicksilver speed and sleekness of his species, letting Babineau see him as those of his kind did—as a cruel force of nature, destructive, deadly, unstoppable. He growled low in his chest as he stalked up behind Cee Cee to slip his arm about her middle. As he rubbed his cheek against hers, his eyes glittered with hot gold and ruby flashes. And as her hand lifted to cradle the side of his face, he smiled at Alain Babineau with teeth as sharp as the point he was making.
“I’d be very, very careful if I were you, Detective. You have no idea what you’re dealing with. I control more than Jimmy Legere’s interests in this city. If any hint of what you saw leaks out, I’d hate to think what that would unleash upon you and your friends.”
He stepped away from an unusually quiet Cee Cee to select a crisp white shirt from his closet—Louis Vuitton, for the up-yours attitude spoiling through him. He stripped off his sweatshirt, letting Babineau see the hard strength of his body and the scars on it: Deep tears in his upper arm, the pucker of bullet wounds, two to the chest with one exiting the back, and one to the stomach . . . fatal shots no man could have survived.
But then, he was no man.

I’ve already gotten in touch with my cover artist extraordinaire and we’ll be back to the search for perfect cover graphics for these five books while my VA reformats the manuscripts I can’t locate. So much work . . . but I am SO excited to revisit . . . and hopefully expand! . . . this award-winning paranormal series.
How’s Spring treating everyone? Looking forward to seeing what’s been growing in your word garden!

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