Friday, 29 April 2016

Everlasting by Annette Blair

A Humorous Contemporary Romantic Fantasy

Some people call it Heaven. The residents know it as Everlasting. When you arrive, adjustments have to be made, especially if you were meant to live and the person you saved... slated to die.

What kind of guardian angel gets knocked back to earth?
The kind who falls in love with one of his wards.

Chance Godricson is heaven-sent. He's Kenya Kilmartin’s guardian, and when, on arrival, he's hired to get her through a difficult time in her life, he just might fall prey to earthly temptation.


Chance Godricson did not understand why he survived. If he survived. The next tremor or aftershock might give him his answer.
After walking the mall, searching the rubble, and shouting for anyone to answer, he faced facts. Some kind of structural collapse above the exclusive underground shopping center blocked all exits, paralyzed elevators, and cut the lights.
While lingering in the Yellow Brick Mall shortly after the stores closed, to await his appointment in the office building above, he had, for all intents and purposes, been buried alive. But not for long. He would find a way out or die trying.
A gold and yellow scarf floated across the mall floor like tumbleweed to land at his feet. He grabbed it to bandage the gash in his right hand while seeking the airflow that propelled it.
Ah. A hole in the ceiling near a wall. A structurally sound place to end up.
He began gathering and rolling heavy chunks of broken concrete to build a makeshift stairway. Good enough, he hoped, for one risky climb. Hours later, he thought—examining his work and flexing his aching hand—the unwieldy monster just might get him out.
Yes, those steps could collapse... hopefully behind him... if he moved fast enough.
“Are you lost, too?” The voice shocked him. Chance shouted as he faced it.
Not a ghost. An angel. Small, breakable looking, but evidently not.
He had not heard her approach. The young woman appeared to have been dipped in honey, and rolled in a thick layer of concrete dust. He probably looked the same. Tear trails marked her cheeks that bore a few small cuts, and still she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.
“What have you been doing all this time?” he asked.
“Hiding. Expecting another explosion? Waiting to die?” She shrugged. “Except, I didn’t.”
“Why didn’t you answer when I called?” he asked.
“Hands over my ears.” She shuddered and eyed his creation. “Is that supposed to be a stairway?”
“Yes.” It gave him hope, her recognizing it.
She tilted her head. “Why?”
“For our escape.”
She moved the dirt on her face as she swiped at her eyes with the backs of her hands. “From now on, I’m only shopping online.”
“Well, let’s get you home so you can,” he said. “The ‘stairs’ can only take one of us at a time. No hesitating, no looking down or back. Once you take that first step, it’s a sprint. Pretend you have wings and can’t stop. Promise.”
She threw her arms around his neck, her legs around his waist. “I’m not good at leading the way. Not at all good. You go first.”
“I can’t. I’m heavier. I might wreck it. You’re light as a cloud. You go.” With difficulty, he pried her off him. “Go. Now.”
She hesitated, shuddered, and swallowed hard three times. “Once I get there, you’ll follow?”
“What’s your name?” he asked.
“Kenya,” she said.
“So are you ready to live, Kenya?”
“Now, there’s a question.” She kissed his filthy cheek.
He didn’t remember ever feeling both honored and unworthy.
“Who are you?” she asked.
“Nobody,” he said. “Just an unremarkable lawyer.”
“See you at the top, Mr. Nobody.”
She whined as she started but followed his instructions to the letter, a sprint like no other... and still, she proved the weakness in his creation. Her inner strength put him to shame as he held the beam nearest the wall, below the highest point of the makeshift stairs. He couldn’t let go until she made it.
“Please let her make it,” he whispered.
He borrowed some of her strength when the beam beneath his hands began to shudder.
As Kenya left the stairs behind her, the last one seeming to disappear from beneath her shoe, she crouched, cradled by crossed steel beams in the darkness between floors, her heart racing as another tremor seemed to wreak havoc in the mall below.
Panic filled her with worry for the man who shared his stairs, until a hand wrapped in a yellow and gold scarf reached for her.
“Hey?” she called, taking that hand with both of hers. “How did you get here before me?”
He pulled her through the darkness to the safety of the outdoors and the dim light of dusk, somehow telling her to live for both of them.
When she thanked him, he was gone.
People surrounded her and wrapped her in blankets, gave her a bottle of water, brought her to the medics.
She never spotted her rescuer among them.
Some people called it Heaven.
The residents knew it as Everlasting.
When you arrived, adjustments needed to be made; it’s not always an easy task, especially when you were meant to live and the person you saved... slated to die.
Chance became Kenya’s guardian angel.
A reward?
Or a punishment?

The Author

An adventurer and storyteller at heart, Annette Blair has explored nineteenth-century Amish America and Regency England. She's fallen for madcap, modern Salem Mass, where bold women follow the Celtic faith with heart. There, she fought dragons, and fell in love with an angel. More recently, she’s taken to solving mysteries beside Connecticut’s Mystic River. And with her newest series, she's be revisiting her "roots" in Salem in a small town north of the Witch City that you won't find on any map. Welcome to Wishing Well, where there's something Magic in the water...

She topped the NY Times and USA Today Bestseller Lists concurrently last month (ranking at #4 & #12 respectively) with Scandalous Brides, a joint venture box set of four full-length Regency Historicals by Annette, Lucinda Brant, Brenda Hiatt & Cheryl Bolen. Annette is honored to have shared the career-changing event with such amazing and multi-talented writers. The four are all members of the Jewels of Historical Romance, a group of 12 top flight authors who have banded together to better serve their careers, their readers, and each other through this new publishing paradigm.

Earlier in her career, Annette's work garnered multiple Romantic Times TOP PICKS, Reviewers’ Choice Awards, and HOLT Medallion nominations. A triple Golden Heart Finalist, she's also finaled in the Golden Leaf, the Lauries, the Golden Quill, and National Readers' Choice Awards. She’s won multiple Booksellers Best Awards, LORIES Awards, Laurel Wreath, Blue Boa, Aspen Gold, RIO, Southern Magic, More than Magic, Orange Rose, Winter Rose, PRISM, Beacon, Colorado Awards of Excellence, Write Touch Readers' Choice Awards and an Orange County Book Buyer's Best Award. With Sex and the Psychic Witch, Annette took home three Anne-Bonney Readers’ Choice Awards out of four. Cloaked in Malice her 5th Vintage Magic Mystery, became her first NY Times Bestseller. Jacob's Return, a rule-breaking Amish Historical became her first USA Today Bestseller.

Her E-books include The Rogues Club & Scoundrels Series, four full Regency Historicals each. Her Sexy Amish Historical E-books are Jacob's Return, Butterfly Garden, and A Winter Heart. Anthologies include Sisters of Spirit, the Jewels of Historical Romance, Fabulous Firsts, and Scandalous Brides NY Times #4 & USA Today #12.

Thursday, 28 April 2016

The Guicai Talisman by A.M. Griffin

Title: The Underground Chronicles of Babylonia Jones, PI: The Guicai Talisman
Author: A.M. Griffin
Genre: Urban Fantasy

What does a woman have to do to prove she belongs in the Undercity? Sure, I’m unclassed and only half paranormal, but that doesn’t mean I can’t solve cases. Since the established PI’s won’t acknowledge my right to a territory, I’m taking jobs from whoever will hire me, doing what I do best…proving myself to be a bad-ass problem solver. Which is how I find myself breaking into Zaid’s house, looking for a talisman my witch client says the very powerful vampire stole.

Now, I can make flowers grow, hear the wind’s whispers and talk to animals, but I don’t have the gift of seeing the future. If I did, I’d have known not to take this case. Because no matter the outcome, nothing good can come from messing with the Guicai Talisman, or it’s far too gorgeous guardian.

Cover art provided by Erik Reeves

Win a $20 Amazon gift card during the release!


You shouldn't judge a book by its cover, but most of us do, and I did with this book.
The cover of The Guicai Talisman reminds me of a comic book, which it certainly isn't and I'm glad I read it!

I enjoyed visiting the world created within its pages. A vividly described world inhabited by many paranormal creatures including witches, vampires and demons.

Babylonia (Baby) Delilah Jones works as a private investigator in the Undercity. She is determined to prove herself despite (or maybe because of) her half-human, half-paranormal status.
Baby is well developed, as is the cast of supporting characters.

I received an eCopy of The Guicai Talisman from Enchanted Book Promotions in exchange for an honest and unbiased review.

The next book in the series…

The Lycan Job

Being hired by the Alpha of the Lycan pack to solve the mystery of his son’s death could make my name as a PI in the Undercity—if it doesn’t get me killed first. Not only am I looking for a perp who obviously won’t hesitate to commit murder, but even before I get working on the problem I’m being threatened. That’s not going to stop me though. Neither is interference from Zaid, the hot Vampire who keeps popping up at the most inopportune times.

Yet this turns out to be anything but a straightforward case. I’m learning more about the workings of the Undercity than ever before, and what I’m finding out is pretty ugly. It’s making me question everything I thought I knew about the Houses, and what I’m missing by not being claimed by my father. But that may well be a question I won’t get a chance to ponder, because even tapping into every ability I possess might not be enough to help me survive the Lycan Job.

The Author

A. M. Griffin is a wife who rarely cooks, mother of three, dog owner (and sometimes dog owned), a daughter, sister, aunt and friend. She’s a hard worker whose two favorite outlets are reading and writing. She enjoys reading everything from mystery novels to historical romances and of course fantasy romance. She is a believer in the unbelievable, open to all possibilities from mermaids in our oceans and seas, angels in the skies and intelligent life forms in distant galaxies.

Wednesday, 27 April 2016

My Perfect Mirror by Rosalyn U. Ikpatt

My Perfect Mirror is every person's reality check. 

Armed with the power and truth of God's word, it seeks to light up your life and bring clarity to your mind: so much that you would question everything else. You will be pleased to discover that all things have always been available to you in Christ Jesus.


"We must completely understand that we were once only an idea in God's mind, and He created each one of us carefully and specifically for a purpose. Your earthly presence started in the mind of God before you were born, so your destiny depends not on where you were born, on whom you were born to, or any other such circumstances. Your life story- with all the things you've never told anyone, all the shame and so called successes - can find its true manifestation only in Christ, your perfect mirror. You don't need to carry your burdens anymore; your worth is determined not by favorable or unfavorable statistics but by whose you are."

The Author:

Rosalyn discovered her love for writing as she wrote her final papers in college many years ago. A mother of four amazing young men and women, she is also a daughter, a cousin, a sister, an aunty, a wife and a friend, among many other diverse multicultural connections and experiences.

 Every aspect of her life has given her various unique perspectives of the power of God.  She identifies herself primarily by her intimacy with God through Christ Jesus and by His Spirit, something she is very grateful for.  She enjoys writing and speaking about God, and about the beauty of the human life and human connections.  She is a vegan and enjoys trying out new and strange recipes. Loves to watch nature documentaries, game shows and PBS Independent Lens.

To view our blog schedule and follow along with this tour visit our 

Tuesday, 26 April 2016

The Bad Boy’s Guarantee by Sara Daniel

If she trusts him, she could have it all…or lose everything.
Out April 26th – The Bad Boy’s Guarantee (The Bad Boys of Regret Hollow #3) by Sara Daniel

Title: The Bad Boy’s Guarantee
Author: Sara Daniel
Series: The Bad Boys of Regret Hollow #3
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: April 26, 2016

Between working her day job in the city and tending her father’s small-town bar every weekend, Haley Miller can’t remember the last time she had a date. When she trips over a stack of her dad’s unpaid bills and into the man of her dreams, she knows the night is guaranteed to be the best of her life…or the worst.

Seth Gardner returns to Regret Hollow to save his family’s business from their landlord’s financial mismanagement. The chance to finally act on his crush on Haley is a bonus he’s not about to turn down. But if he waits too long to confess his secrets, he’ll lose her trust and his chance.

Just when Haley thinks she can have the love and the life she always dreamed of, she discovers everything was built on a lie. Seth will lose her unless he can guarantee a lasting love built from nothing more than their fantasies.

For more information on The Bad Boys of Regret Hollow – visit Sara Daniel’s webpage.


“I have the missing ingredient. Chocolate martini lovers, gather round,” Haley called out from across the room.

Seth clicked off the phone and switched it to silent. He’d never be the life of the party like Haley, but he wasn’t anyone’s burden anymore. Time to crawl out from under the counter and stand so he could confront her like he’d planned.

“I’m gathering! Don’t even think about putting that half-and-half in the mini-fridge,” another female proclaimed.

Haley’s shapely legs sauntered around the corner straight for him, while his own legs refused to budge. She stopped in front of him, and he braced for the inevitable question of what the hell he was doing sitting on the floor under there. But she didn’t look down, simply concentrated on organizing something on top of the counter.

Her absolute immersion in the bartending duties hurt. As fast as they’d come together in the kitchen, she’d moved on just as quickly. Other women recognized Seth had something to offer, but the one woman who revved his libido into overdrive never gave him a chance. Maybe she deliberately didn’t check under the counter because she expected her fantasy lover to be there, and on the site, he’d stupidly requested not to be identified.

Tomorrow, he had to work with Aunt Cheryl and Uncle Mike to find every bit of legal ground they could stand on to keep the pizzeria open. Monday, he’d file motions and countermotions and fight with every avenue available to save their livelihood.

After all these years of ignoring him, Haley wasn’t going to suddenly look at him like he was relationship material or even hookup material. But he had an opportunity right now to drop his boring good-guy image and do something shockingly wicked. If her biggest fantasy was to come while she poured a bunch of drinks for people, then he’d give her an orgasm she’d never forget, even if his balls turned blue and she never believed he had enough bad boy inside him to be worthy of her notice.

The Author:

Sara Daniel writes what she loves to read—irresistible romance, from sweet to steamy and everything in between. She grew up in a small town and was once a landlord of two uninvited squirrels. She has no regrets about turning her back on her accounting degree to write romance, but she deeply regrets her inability to keep track of her car keys.

More from The Bad Boys of Regret Hollow:

The Bad Boy’s Gift
Available from:  

The Bad Boy’s Guilt
Available from:

The Bad Boy’s Goodness – Releasing May 10, 2016
Available for pre-order from:

Monday, 25 April 2016

Hellborne (The ARC Chronicles Book 2) by Matthew W. Harrill

As Madden and Eva marry and prepare for impending parenthood, all hell breaks loose...
this time, the demons are after the baby, and they're not the only ones!

It's hard to review Hellborne without revealing anything of the story, there is so much packed into the book. The characters are well fleshed out, and the vivid descriptions, once again, drew me in and kept a tight hold of me, right up to the end, and what an ending!

I need to read Hellbeast, NOW!


Heavily pregnant, Eva Scott finds herself challenged from all sides. Her husband Madden is not the man he was. Her mind is overburdened with the dreadful visions witnessed mere months before. Her new-found allies the ARC Council are prepared to turn against her unless she meets their demands. Above all, Eva feels she is being led on a path by a powerful, faceless forces, almost within touching distance, always in the shadows.

Join Eva as she battles against time to uncover the answers and seeks to find a safe haven to deliver her baby.


The Author:

Born and raised in Bristol, England, Matthew W Harrill is an international award-winning horror author. His series, 'The ARC Chronicles' consists of Hellbounce (which has received acclaim at the Halloween Book Festival, the London Book Festival and most recently the 2015 International Book Awards), Hellborne and the final book of the series, Hellbeast.

In addition to his mentor David Farland (The Runelords, The Courtship of Princess Leia [as Dave Wolverton]), Matt is always thankful to know the British author Juliet E McKenna, who has helped him countless times. He is a fan of fantasy, loving Robert Jordan's 'Wheel of Time' series. He also has a lot of time for the truly bizarre horror of H P Lovecraft, citing this as an influence on his work. He also cites the fictional author 'Hank Moody' as an influence.

Matthew has worked as a labourer, a barman, a cleaner, a joiners mate. In addition, he has dabbled in commercial insurance and has for the past 12 years implemented share plans for Xerox.

When not working, Matthew enjoys tennis with his son, watching movies, and television series such as Supernatural and Grimm, blogging and cookery.

Summer Soirée by S.L. Stacker

Junior year has come to a close, and Taylor Brighton is excited about being a Senior. She decides to keep a diary in order to document the events of her upcoming Senior year.
On the first day of summer break, when she writes her first entry, she has no way of knowing the events that would unfold…events that she may not want to remember.
An annual end-of-the-year party, true friends, and a blast from her past will leave this soon-to-be-senior with a summer to remember.

The Author

S.L. Stacker is an author with Booktrope publishing. She has written and published three Romantic Suspense books in the Macyn McIntyre series. Her current projects include several fiction novels, but her focus is the Sisters of Summit Bay series—to be published in 2016/2017.
When she isn’t throwing her readers for a loop and leaving them wanting more, she can be found relaxing and hanging with her husband, children, and dogs. 

You can visit her at

Tidbits from S.L.
  • When I began writing Summer Soiree, I knew I wanted a masquerade type mask on the cover in some fashion. I searched stock photos for hours and found several pics, however, none of them were quite what I was looking for. I was tired of looking at the same photos over and over, and I finally decided to use a different stock site, and I found the pic I wanted. Within a matter of minutes, I had purchased the photo, and within an hour, I had a new cover!
  • Ideas for stories usually hit me at the strangest of times. I'll start the story, but I won't be able to finish until the idea for a cover forms and I actually have it in front of me. To me, if I have the cover first, it feels real. I know, at that point, I have something to work toward, and it gives me the motivation I need to finish whatever I'm working on at the moment.

Nothing is Lost in Loving by Brenda Moguez

Title: Nothing is Lost in Loving
Author: Brenda Moguez
Genre: Women’s Fiction

When Stella Delray unexpectedly loses her job a week before Christmas, which is also the anniversary of her husband’s death, she is forced to stop talking to his ashes, come to terms with her loss, and get her life back on track for her young son’s sake as well as her own. She never expected that posting an ad on Craigslist would send her into the arms of not one but two men, one of whom is her former boss. Now she’s working as an admin for a retired Broadway star, bookkeeping for an erotic video production company, and writing love letters for the mysterious "Oaklander." Adding to the craziness of her new life, her monster-in-law resurfaces and the father-in-law she never met shows up on her doorstep. With the guidance of her best friend, Bono, Stella will learn to redefine the rules she’s always lived by.

The Author:

Brenda Moguez writes the kind of stories she loves to read--women’s fiction, starring quirky, passionate women who are challenged by the fickleness and complexities of life.
She’s particularly drawn to exploring the effects of love on the heart of a woman. She has aspirations for a fully staffed villa in Barcelona and funding aplenty for a room of her own. When she’s not working on a story, she writes love letters to the universe, dead poets, and Mae West. Her second novel, Nothing is Lost in Loving, is set to release April 2016. You can find her at  where she explores passionate pursuits in all its forms.

Enter to win one of three $25 Amazon gift cards.

Sunday, 24 April 2016

The Jacq of Spades by Patricia Loofbourrow

What is The Jacq of Spades?

The Jacq of Spades is steampunk neo-noir. Book one of a series. The start of a story which you know isn’t going to end well.

The once-beautiful domed neo-Victorian city of Bridges is now split between four crime families in an uneasy cease-fire. Social disparity increasing and its steam-driven infrastructure failing, a new faction, the Red Dogs, is on the rise.

Jacqueline Spadros has a dream life: a wealthy husband, a powerful family. But her life is not what it seems. Kidnapped from her mother’s brothel and forced to marry, the murder of her best friend Air ten years before haunts her nightmares. She finds moments of freedom in a small-time private eye business, which she hides in fear of her sadistic father-in-law.

Air’s little brother disappears off his back porch and the Red Dogs are framed for it. With the help of a mysterious gentleman investigator hired by the Red Dogs to learn the truth, Jacqui pushes her abilities to their limits in hope of rescuing the child before the scoundrel disposes of him.

Published by Red Dog Press
Book cover by Race-Point
Proofreading by The Well-Chosen Word

Read The Jacq of Spades before The Queen of Diamonds is released!

Friday, 22 April 2016

Blood Secrets by Elizabeth Morgan

Scottish Werewolves: freaky Vampires and a Slayer with a bad addiction and an insane legacy. 
Add a big dose of sarcasm, sizzling chemistry; a lot of silver and a ton of blood and . . . 

Welcome to the Blood Series.
Length: 127,000 words
Content: Urban Fantasy
Publisher: Elizabeth Morgan

When your life is messed up to begin with, how much worse can it really get?

Heather Ryan's life has never been simple. The latest in a long line of descendants who have made it their mission to hunt down and slay the Ancient Vampire, Marko Pavel, she is also the first born Infected. Up until recently, the biggest downside to living with the Vampyrric Virus was simply that she craved blood, but after receiving a DVD from her deceased Grandmother Sofia and being kidnapped with friend and so called guardian Werewolf, Brendan Daniels, she quickly discovers that she is also the inspiration behind the Vampires’ attempt to create a whole new breed of super monsters—Hybrids.

The truth comes at a cost, but how much does one have to sacrifice to gain success?

Following the breadcrumbs left by her psychic Grandmother, Heather and Brendan find themselves in new territory. Venice is where Heather hopes to find Marie, the second Bloodling of Marko, along with Brendan's three taken Pack members. But an old Peace Pact between the Italian Pack and the Colony means they are left hunting blind, and due to the Italian Alpha's reluctance to believe their story of kidnap and experimentation on Loup-Garous, time is running out. So when help comes from an unlikely source, they have no choice but to accept.

All families have secrets, but blood can't lie.

Caught up in an intricate and complicated scheme spun by the one she trusts the most and the friend of her enemy, Heather soon discovers that she is the pawn in a plan she would never have been able to conceive. But how many of her new allies were in on the game, to begin with?

This title contains explicit language, violence, and some scenes of a sexual nature.

Download your copy of Blood Secrets (Blood Series: Book Two)
at the celebratory release price $3.49.
Thereafter it will revert to the price of $4.49.

Blood Secrets will also be available in print from Amazon and Barnes&Noble in the next few weeks.


The walkway appeared desolate... Darkness almost shrouded the passage, but the streetlights of Venice, which stretched across the seemingly black water of the Grand Canal, cast slithers of light through the tall stone arches. A gust of wind ran past me and I shivered, the small tremble causing drops of water to fly from my soaked clothing and stain the grey slabs beneath me.
A howl pierced the night sky, then another and another; a unison of agonizing cries echoing around the maze of buildings that made Central Venice so unique.
To say that Ken doll was going to be pissed that I had took off was an understatement, but I couldn’t lose this chance. I wasn’t going to lose Marie.
Pulling my sword from its sheath, I made my way towards the intricate iron gates which were open, held in place by chains that locked into two hoops that protruded from the grey bricks.
Moving past the rough metal, I peered into the square, outer foyer to find the main double doors to the nest stood wide open in invitation, giving me the perfect view of the long, quiet hallway. I inhaled deeply. The stench of ancient earth polluted the air.
With a steadying breath, I stepped through the doorway and past the two round pillars. Three large iron lanterns hung from the ceiling. A mosaic of stained glass caging the bulbs inside, casting fragments of multi-coloured light across the cream walls. The glow from them curled around the sculptures lining the walls, the shadows of their perfect forms stretched across the blank canvas, disfiguring as I moved past them.
My heart thundered in my chest, so loud that I was pretty damn sure it was drowning out the squelch of water in my boots as I tread lightly and swiftly across the coral and ivory diamond tiles. Droplets of water continued to travel down my skin and beneath my clothes, which already clung to me like a second skin. My curls were a drenched mess. Stray strands had escaped the bun I had shoved my hair in earlier, the wet chunks sticking to my face and neck.
I walked past the two sets of closed double doors which sat across from each other. My focus strayed to the enclosed, dimly lit stairwell on my right.... It was now blocked off by an iron gate similar to the one protecting the front entrance. Another set of doors sat closed to my left, but it was the archway at the end of the hallway that I was drawn to—the only other doors that lay wide open in invitation, and despite the light in the chamber being dim, I knew she was in there, waiting for me.
Oxygen burned my lungs. A stitch had claimed my right side, and the scent of blood from my weeping wounds had my senses peaking. Only this task remains.
Tightening my grip on the hilt of my sword, I moved into the large chamber. No furniture filled the space. All the curtains were drawn. The dark, thick material ran the length of the wall, indicating that the windows stood from ceiling to floor. The walls were painted in panels of patterns so fine, but I couldn’t make out the details. Not that the particulars of the interior of a nest ever really mattered. Although, this was by far the fanciest I had been in. My feet faltered as my gaze landed on him.
He stood like a statue in the centre of the room, his unseeing eyes, like white, misted glass, vacant and icy, focused on me. He could see me. He could see right through me....
The air caught in my lungs as pain seared through my lower back. I lurched, a scream lodged in my throat.
“You should have run while you had the chance.”
His voice sent a chill sweeping across my already frozen flesh.
I spun, sword loose in my grip, swiping at air. A delayed reaction, which only caused pain to ripple up my spine. Heat pulsed at the base of my back, a seeping warmth drawing the material of my damp T-shirt. The scent of my blood hit me once more. Shit.
“Brave of you to come back,” a female chortled.
Wiping the back of my hand across my eyes, I looked round the room. There was nowhere for her to hide but the shadows which claimed the corners. But why was she even hiding?
“What’s the matter, Marie? Are you afraid to face me one-on-one?”I straightened, gritting my teeth at the splintering pain stretching from my head to my toes. “I expected more from a first generation Leech, more from Marko’s Bloodling than peak-a-boo-attack.”
“You flatter yourself,” he said calmly.
I did. There was no reason for her to hide from me. Perhaps she wasn’t. Perhaps, this was just a game of cat and mouse to her, and she wanted to draw it out for as long as possible. Despite the fact she should be running for her wretched immortal life, despite the fact that she was no longer safe in her own territory, she hadn’t run. She was either egotistical or foolish, or maybe just clueless. One way or another, she was going to die before the sun rose.
“Face me, Marie,” I growled, tightening the grip on my sword. “Your son at least had the balls to—”
The air left my lungs as a weight barrelled into me.
In the back of my mind, I registered my sword slipping from my hand. A fact that was confirmed as the sound of metal clattering against marble echoed throughout the room. My head made impact with the wall. Pain exploded at the back of my skull. Stars burst behind my eyelids in a rush of glittering colours. I crumpled to the floor.
“Never speak of my son, puttana disgustosa.”
The words were snarled, but seemed distant due to the pounding in my ears. My eyes snapped open as blood coated my tongue. I rolled onto my side, gagging, wanting so badly to throw up, and yet, I had the urge to gulp, to swallow; to drink, and it was so damn strong.
The word hammered at my temples, causing the pain that already cradled my head to stab sharper.
Pathetic. Perhaps I was pathetic. Perhaps I had been fooling myself all these years for clinging on to humanity when every primal instinct inside me hungered for blood, even my own. I was sick. I was no better than the monsters I killed, but I knew that already... Didn’t I?
“ are not human, Heather. You have been lying to yourself. Thinking you can survive this way, lead a ‘normal life’ when you were born to be so much more...”
His words echoed in my mind, taunting me even though he stood quietly at the centre of the room.
“It is almost laughable, the idea that you thought you could stop us, destroy Marko after all those before you have failed.”
Breathing fast and hard, I twisted onto my knees. My arms trembled as I tried to push myself up.
“Where is he?” I bit the words out.
Marie’s foot connected with my abdomen. A crunch met my ears. Another scream lodged in my throat. Fists clenched, I curled myself into a ball, sucking in sharp breaths through my teeth as I tried to fight past the pain pulsing inside me.
“Where. Is. Marko?” The words were broken and strained as I tried to lift my head to look at her.
Marie grabbed me by my hair. A strangled cry burst from my lips as she dragged me up, sliding me against the wall. Nausea exploded in my stomach. Numbness claimed my cheeks and neck. I kicked helplessly. My legs were deadweight, but pins and needles shot through my calves each time my boots scuffed against the brick. I couldn’t feel my fingertips as I wrapped my hands round her wrist, feebly trying to break her iron grip.
She grabbed me by the throat with her free hand and pinned me high above her head. My hands dropped to the arm now holding me against the cold wall. My eyes widened as she stepped closer, into the soft stream of light coming through the doorway. If I could have breathed, I would have stopped at the sight of her angular, almost amphibian features.
Sweet Jesus, so this is what a first generation Vampire in full form looks like?
Like all transformed Vampires, her head was void of hair, but the bones beneath her face were moving. Her skin looked pasty and brittle as it stretched across the sharp and unnatural angles of her jaw and cheek bones. Her nose had caved into her skull, but her nostrils were large and wide, bat-like. And her eyes—deep crimson, so fucking inhuman, so lifeless I might have shivered if I had the strength to. The skin wriggled across her face... She was still shifting?
How much uglier can she get?
I jolted as something razor-sharp punched into my gut. Blood flooded my mouth, leaking from the corners as I fought to breathe. Tears filled my eyes as I glanced down, noting her free hand had pushed against my abdomen, her fingers embedded deep inside me.
“In the last place you, or any of your pathetic family, would ever think to look for him.”
Reality slowed down, or perhaps it was my heartbeat. Perhaps I was blacking out, but despite the pins and needles that tingled from my fingers straight down to my toes, the numbness that claimed every part of my body, despite the only feelings I had left being pain as she squeezed every breath of air from me, despite that, at this very moment, the only thing I should have been thinking about was that I was about to die, that I had failed my family, my grandmother... Brendan... a bulb pinged in my mind, and I had never seen the light so fucking clearly.
Her tongue slithered towards me, flicking across the blood staining my lips. She shuddered. “You should not have murdered my son.”
A howl echoed throughout the building. Hope fluttered in my struggling heart.
“It is time to leave.”
His voice jolted me, so innocent and calm, completely un-fazed by the scene playing out before him.
I lurched as she pulled her hand from inside me. Through my blurred gaze, I caught sight of the length of her now blood-stained talons as she brought her fingers to my face.
“Die knowing that you have failed, like the rest of your feeble family.”
Bones cracked and her jaw dislocated, her mouth widened, as her fangs extended—
A mountain of black fur barrelled into her.
I landed on the floor. My body screamed in protest, but no sound left me. I couldn’t feel my fingers or toes. Hell, I couldn’t feel my body. Just the pain that resided in every point she had struck.
Dark shadows moved around the room, accompanied by growls and ear-splintering wails.
Another thundering howl rang through the building. I moved my focus to the doorway and found a copper-blond Werewolf standing in the frame. His golden gaze landed on me, widening.
My eyes fluttered, and the next thing I knew, he was beside me.
“I know where he is,” I rasped as Brendan’s flushed, sweat-slicked face filled my vision.
“Shit. Heather?” Brendan’s hands fell to my stomach.
Searing pain exploded outward, stretching to my head and toes. An inhuman cry gurgled in my throat, the action causing more blood to ooze from my mouth.
“Christ.” Tears threatened to emerge in his emerald gaze. His hands moved to my face. “Why—What?” His jaw was tense. A growl vibrated in his throat. “God damn it, Heather. Why couldn’t you have fucking waited?”
A smile touched my lips. “Because, silly Wolf—” I closed my eyes. My brain felt as though it were churning in my skull, “—I now know where Marko is.”
Darkness took me.

Elizabeth is giving three lucky winners an ecopy of Cranberry Blood
(Blood Series: Book One) AND an ecopy of Blood Secrets (Blood Series: Book Two).
So, if you are interested in winning yourself this set then make sure to leave an entry on the rafflecopter, and don’t forget to go download your FREE copy of She-Wolf
(Blood Series: Prequel) which you can read while you wait. ;)

Good Luck!

The Author:

Elizabeth Morgan is a multi-published author of urban fantasy, paranormal, erotic horror, f/f, and contemporary; all with a degree of romance, a dose of action and a hit of sarcasm, sizzle or blood, but you can be sure that no matter what the genre, Elizabeth always manages to give a unique and often humorous spin to her stories.

Like her tagline says; A pick ‘n’ mix genre author. “I’m not greedy. I just like variety.”
And that she does, so look out for more information on her upcoming releases at her website:

Away from the computer, Elizabeth can be found in the garden trying hard not to kill her plants, dancing around her little cottage with the radio on while she cleans, watching movies or good television programmes – Dr Who? Atlantis? The Musketeers? Poldark? American Horror Story? Heck, yes! – Or curled up with her two cats reading a book.

Start the Blood Series for FREE!

If you’re new to the Blood Series, but think you might enjoy the books then download your copy of She-Wolf (Blood Series: Prequel) for FREE today.
And in preparation for the long awaited sequel, Cranberry Blood (Blood Series: Book One) is available for the bargain celebratory price of $2.99 until April 30th. Thereafter it will go back to its former price of $3.99.

Blood Series Prequel

Length: 78,000 words
Content: Paranormal Erotic Romance
Publisher: Elizabeth Morgan

Dealing with the Rogue Werewolves terrorizing his Pack? Simple.
Trying to convince his mate he does want to be with her? Bloody impossible.

Owen MacLaren is the Alpha's son and the Pack's second, and he has never been one to let anything get to him. So when a bunch of Rogues begin purposely dumping mutilated bodies around the Pack Keep, he is more than ready to deal with the Werewolves responsible.

But one night off and a trip to a local strip joint for a colleague's stag night changes things, and Owen soon discovers he isn't immune to everything . . . .

Being an independent Loup and travelling the world? Easy.
Having to come home and face the Werewolf who broke her young heart? Challenging.

After five years away, Clare Walker finds herself back home in Scotland, working in a strip club. The tips are decent, and she gets to dance, but it isn't a place she thought she would ever be, let alone Owen, her Pack second and the mate she has always desired.

Although Owen is determined to prove he wants to be with Clare, things can't go smoothly between them, not when they have past issues to sort out and a bunch of unusual 'Rogues' to deal with.

This title contains explicit language, violence, and graphic sex.

She-Wolf is also available in print from Amazon and Barnes&Noble!

Cranberry Blood
Blood Series: Book One

Length: 96,000 words
Content: Urban Fantasy
Publisher: Elizabeth Morgan

Killing Vampires? Easy.
Tracking someone? Simple.
Helping, and protecting a Vampire slayer . . . . Bloody hard work!

Thirteen years ago, Brendan Daniels made a deal with a psychic. In exchange for information on the whereabouts of a Rogue Werewolf, he promised to help and protect Sofia's granddaughter. Unfortunately, he had no idea what he was letting himself, or his Pack, in for.

Nothing about Heather is simple, from her weird dietary needs to her life’s mission. The girl can handle herself, but the promise to protect her soon becomes a need, and one he can't fully understand.

Vampire Slayer.
Born Infected.
Addicted to blood . . . but not by choice.

Heather Ryan is the current Slayer in a long family line. Like all before her, she has spent her life searching for her ancestor, Marko Pavel, the Vampire her family has sworn to kill. If that isn't complicated enough, she is also a born "Infected", and to keep her from becoming insane or giving in to her darker side, she is on a very strict diet.

Now that her Grandmother Sofia has passed, it is up to Heather to take the family legacy into her own hands. Or at least, it would have been...if her Grandmother hadn't sent a Werewolf to help her.

What is the irritating Brendan supposed to help her with? Sofia never told either of them. Luckily, it doesn't take long for Heather and Brendan to find out that the Vampires have big plans, and that the Leeches have waited a long time for them both.

This title contains explicit language, violence, and some scenes of a sexual nature.

Cranberry Blood is also available in print from Amazon and Barnes&Noble!

Prologue from Blood Secrets

October 15th, 2015
Sestiere San Polo, Venice, Italy
0.54 a.m.

Colours dispersed and the world turned to black once more.
“What did you see, Galen?” Her voice held an edge of expectation.
Lifting my head, I reached out with my mind, collecting the threads of consciousness floating about me, pulling them into myself, and reconnected with my four Bloodlings—Sorina, Leonardo, Kiya, and Carlos—who still stood in the corners of the formal first floor sitting room. Their sight became mine and their focus had remained on Marie still seated on the purple chaise longue opposite me. The crystal wine glass cradled in her hand was half drained, the blood trailing down the transparent surface indicating she had just taken a mouthful a moment prior, but now, her attention fixated on me.
“She is here.” I relaxed into the matching arm chair. “The Ancestor is in Italy.”
One finely plucked eyebrow arched. The muscles in her neck flexed. “When did she arrive?”
The vision had been strong, so much stronger than the last time I had perceived the events to come, but this time, it had been different. This time, I had seen the upcoming events through the Infected Slayer’s eyes and not my own, which meant only one thing—Marko’s Ancestor was close.
The eyelids of my Bloodlings flickered. Scenery flashed through my mind, changing within the blinking darkness. I reached out through them, to the others I had planted around the borders, until I found someone close... “Her feet hit Italian soil almost fifteen minutes ago. She is alone, and she is in Venice.”
I pulled back until my focus returned to the room once more. A smile tugged at the corner of my lips at the sight of Marie sending her wine glass towards the wall on her right. Crystal broke into a thousand small shards. The blood splashed against the gold, paisley-patterned wallpaper before sliding all the way down to pool on the mahogany panelled floor.
Pushing herself from the chaise longue, she twisted in the direction of the closed double doors.
“Emilio!” Her voice bellowed throughout the tall front room.
No doubt the rest of the Colony had heard her throughout the building. Easy to imagine the rage thundering in her voice had sent ripples down the Grand Canal. The idea amused me.
“You are too late.” I laced my palms and laid them in my lap. “She has been picked up already. The Alpha sent someone for her. A human, naturally. The car is already en route, and I would say she has less than ten minutes before she crosses into Werewolf territory...” and out of your reach.
My unspoken words weighed heavy in the air, and I delighted in the fury that sent her perfect posture rigid.
The thick mahogany doors to the left of the room flew open. One panel banged into the corner of the nearby dresser, sending the set of unlit candles and their polished gold holders tumbling onto their sides. The other door had almost blocked out the view I had of the room, but my mind filled with the sight of Leonardo’s hand as he curled his fingers around the edge, stopping the heavy wood before it hit him in the face.
Emilio strolled in. The burly male tipped his head to his Mistress. His dark eyes penetrated her on a level that screamed carnal desire. “You called—”
Marie held up her hand to cut off her Bloodling.
“Why am I only just hearing of this, Galen?” Her head flicked back to me. The loose dark curls that had been purposely left out of her pinned-up hair bounced around her slender face. She moved towards me, one long leg before the other, her black leather pencil skirt rippling like a second skin and the strike of her heels replicating the cool and steady beat of the pulse she didn’t possess. “Why did you not tell me sooner? Marko will—”
“Do not pretend to know what the Master will do.” I unlaced my hands and rested them on the arms of my chair. “The Ancestor’s arrival is as...surprising to myself as it is to you, but then after the recent change in our plans, my instructions were to keep watch over the projects and keep tune to the path that will lead us all to success.”
I moved my focus swiftly and watched through the eyes of Sorina, who stood behind me on the right, as Marie circled round me.
“But do you not think the Slayer is able to ruin our plans? Do you not think it would have been wise for your focus to partly be on her also?”
“I am following the instructions of our Master, but yes, I suppose you are right. Then again, if she had died when she was supposed to—”
“But she did not die, did she?”
“Her survival is not my fault.”
“No, but you never mentioned that her survival was a possibility. Strange in itself, and I am sure Marko will think the same.” She stopped in front of me, a smile creeping along her full lips. “Whatever will he think when he hears that you have neglected to inform him of the girl’s actions for a second time? Anyone would think you wanted her to survive. That you wanted her to—”
“Her survival was always a possibility. Something I have pointed out before, but it seems no one is ever interested in listening to the details. Although, I have to say that our Master seemed rather pleased to hear of her survival.”
A smile graced my lips at the sight of the frown forming on Marie’s face. “So, sadly, Marko will not share your views on finding such matters strange. Then again, he does grasp the details of my gift far better than you ever have.”
Her frown morphed into a scowl.
“It is an extraordinary gift, Marie, but alas, I am not God. If I were, then, and as I assured Marko, everything would have gone to plan, but since I have to rely on others of our kind and their abilities to follow instructions, well, I am surprised we have gotten to this stage of the plan.
“The possibility of the Slayer’s survival had been minimal, which means her death was a very strong possibility, but then due to the spontaneous decision Luca made at the last second, her chance of survival expanded. Luca’s foolish choice to indulge himself cost us time. He did not inform Constance that the Ancestor had followed him to the allocated blood house, meaning Michael was not informed, and therefore, she had a chance to slay all our kind who were present, and her Wolf wrecked the place. Their abduction was supposed to be swift, easy. If it were not for the one surviving Vampire who had the sense to flee and inform Constance, the Slayer would have skipped out of the blood house and we would have lost our window of opportunity to take her and the dog.
“As for Lance, as idiotic as he was in his theories of what she is, he did manage to get the results needed, but the fool clearly did not make the right calculations for sedation when it came to the Werewolf. Ridiculous, since he had been studying their kind long enough, but the proximity of the facilities’ location to the Pack and the full moon played key parts in his failure. It is not my fault that the lower generation are completely incapable of doing as they are told. Trust was instilled to them. They were informed of our goal, and the severity and importance of what we wish to achieve. They were all given a time frame to work in, but Lance took his time and decided to divert from his purpose and that of the Farr facility.”
Lance had been put in charge of finding out if it were possible to reverse the effects of our mutation in Infecteds. There were far too many due to the carelessness of the lower generation not feeding properly, and too many idiots had been given the gift of immortality. The Farr facility had been a holding pen, if anything, for all the Infecteds we had managed to round up in the last ten years. Population control, as it were; not that they wouldn’t serve some use in our cause.
Lance had been instructed to take some DNA samples and run tests, to check the Slayer’s vitals and then dispose of her once we had everything we needed. The secret of her DNA was all we needed. He had been told to get as much Were-gene as possible from the male as we were running low on it, and to send any Loup-Garous they caught to us. He was not told to figure out how the girl had survived for twenty-one years, or to test if she had any of our abilities. Such information could be discovered by testing our theories on any of the Infecteds or whoever was needed, but Lance had always been a curious, sadistic creature who wanted so much to excel at everything. He had taken his role far too seriously and got it into his head that he was solely responsible for our endeavours, that the advancement of our species had been his idea and his alone. His curiosity mixed with his need to prove our theories had been wrong. By conducting his own experiments, he had almost ruined everything. Thankfully, he never had the eye for details. Unfortunately, he had been the only suitable Vampire to put in charge of the Scottish facility, but fortunately, such egotism and reluctance to do as he was told had inevitably cost him his life, and regrettably meant that the Ancestor and her pet had escaped.
“Am I supposed to watch everyone?” I lifted my head, and through Sorina’s eyes, I could see my face was at the right angle to be on level with Marie’s. “Do you suppose Marko blamed my slips in focus when he heard how I had to figure out an alternative path for us, which would not have occurred in the first place if your foolish son could follow the simplest instruction—?”
Her hand was wrapped round my throat within an instant, grip tight considering her slender fingers. Her lips hovered near my ear as she leaned over me. “Do not speak ill of my son, Galen, or—”
What, Marie?”
I remained still. My connection fixed onto Kiya as Emilio’s men crowded in the doorway. Shifting focus, I looked through the eyes of Carlos who stood to my left; a clear view of the side of Marie’s face came into focus and I noticed her skin ripple across her bones.
Luca was still a sore point. Perhaps he always would be. The idiot had been her only son, and her first Bloodling, and she had suffered greatly at his demise a few weeks earlier; was still suffering from the severed link.
He had deserved to die, though. It only served him right for choosing to indulge in carnal pleasure instead of calling for the United Colony leader, Michael, the instant he knew the Slayer had followed him.
Although Marko hadn’t been pleased to learn that Michael—despite being aware of our plans and knowing full well that Luca was only making an appearance in London as a form of bait to ensnare the Infected Ancestor—had sent some lower generation Vampires out the night before, to kill her. Laughable in itself since the fresher batch of our species were clumsy and driven only by their cravings, but even more so was the thought that the United Colony leader thought he would get away with blaming the oafs for not knowing any better. Luckily, and despite my current argument, I always kept watch. My own Bloodlings were planted in every country throughout the world and therefore at my use to run interference when and if needed. I learned a long time ago that one could never fully trust or even depend on their own species. Unlucky for Michael, neither Marko nor I cared enough for him to divulge that his pitiful existence was going to be cut short, and very soon.
Marie still didn’t understand how events were linked, but that was simply because she forgot the fundamental rule—though Fate was prewritten; we all had our own will, and our choices affected everything and everyone around us. One decision could break an easily made chain of circumstances and a person could veer from the path completely. Fusing those events back into the original plan was never easy, but often possible, especially if the weaver was determined to achieve a particular goal.
We had lost a couple of hours due to Luca’s idiocy, and if Lance had killed the Infected Slayer when he had been told to instead of toying with her at every opportunity, then she wouldn’t be in Italy at this very moment. She wouldn’t be able to ruin our plans.
Sitting straight, I turned my face so my own lips were resting against Marie’s ear. “What do you think you can do? Kill me? Do you know what Marko will do to you, if you were to end me?”
Her grip tightened.
My voice dropped to a rough whisper.
“Kill me, and you will kill all hope of success for our race, for the plan Marko has had for a decade, the plan he clings to as though it were a lifeline.” Pain pinched my fingertips as my nails lengthened. “I was his first Bloodling, or have you forgotten that fact? I am his first, Marie. I am his main lifeline.”
I punched my hand through her stomach, my talons slicing easily through her flesh and muscle. She lurched. Her blood coated my skin as I rummaged round her innards, curling my fingers around her spine. Her body grew rigid. Her hand left my throat, falling to my arm. Nails dug into my flesh as she tried so hard to break my grip.
“Galen.” My name left her lips on a broken whimper. “Ti prego...”
I rubbed my cheek next to hers, the tiniest spark of heat generated at the friction, and I watched through the eyes of my tense Bloodlings as her rich-toned skin paled, as her own pathetic Bloodlings shrank back in the doorway, unsure of what to do.
I kept my voice low, calm.
“No matter how you may see me, Marie, let this be the last time you forget who I am.” I tightened my grip on her spine. A crunch broke through the silence and she trembled. A raw cry scratched her throat. “My body might be small, my persona innocent, but never forget the fact that I am older and stronger than you, and if you ever disrespect me before this Colony, or any other, again, not only will I pull your fangs from their roots, I will also rip your tongue from your throat. Do I make myself clear?”
She nodded, her cold skin brushing against mine once more, the tiny spark of heat so sweet, and yet so unbearable.
Letting go of her spine, I withdrew my hand and beckoned Carlos forth. He removed his white shirt and offered it to me.
Marie stumbled back until her legs hit the chaise longue. The front of her ivory silk blouse was in tatters. Blood, thick and black, oozed from the wound in her midriff, coating her fingers, soaking the expensive, glossy material. She collapsed. Her face was a gratifying picture of shock and mortification—mouth slack, skin paler, eyes wide and glazed.
Emilio rushed towards her, grabbing the glass bottle of blood from the side table. Guiding her head back, he pressed the rim to her trembling lips and poured the crimson liquid down her throat.
Hand and arm clean, I handed back Carlos’ now blood-stained shirt.
“The Ancestor has come to Italy to find you, and you can thank your son for that.” I rested my hands on the arms of my chair and relaxed into the cushions. “Luca gave up your whereabouts in a plea to save his life. Much good it did him.”
Emilio moved back as Marie sat up, the wound in her stomach closing.
“If she is here...” she swiped the blood from her mouth with the back of her hand and looked towards me. “Then she will die?”
A question, as though she doubted her own ability to kill the Slayer. Perhaps she was humouring me, or being coy. Maybe her question was genuine, but no, like her Maker, she gambled too much on the knowledge she was given of the future. Like her Maker, she had never fully understood that Fate didn’t lay out one single, straight path, but a map with many routes. Certain choices could change one’s direction, but then there was always more than one outcome to any situation. Still, some moments were just fixed in time, some events had to happen, some were written in stone, and no matter what choices were brought into play, the outcome would remain the same. Or at least it would if it was a wanted outcome and one had a little insight to give guidance to the necessary individuals. Success was always possible when one had the power to keep an eye on matters.
“Heather Ryan’s life will end here.”

Thursday, 21 April 2016

Exquisite Karma by Ann Mayburn

Grab a glass of wine and heat up the chilly spring evening with EXQUISITE KARMA by Ann Mayburn, part 2 of Sarah & Beach’s story!


~ Author's Note-Exquisite Karma is part 2 of Beach and Sarah's story. ~
~ Part 1, Exquisite Redemption, should be read first for the most enjoyment. ~


Life as the old lady of Carlos 'Beach' Rodriguez, National President of the Iron Horse MC, was everything I never knew I wanted. Not only did I have a good man who treated me like a queen and loved me like crazy, I also had a vast-extended family of rough and tumble bikers who accepted and welcomed me into their world without judgement. Unfortunately, good things don't last for a girl like me and just when I finally felt like I'd found my happily ever after my psychopath of a mother had to show up and destroy it. She betrayed me, betrayed the club, and put everyone I've ever loved in mortal danger. Our only chance of surviving this is for me to find her and recover the weapons that Iron Horse was moving for the Russian and Israeli mafia that she helped steal. I can only hope that Beach can forgive me for her sins.


I should have known Sarah would never betray me, would never work with her junkie mom to steal from the club, but I let my temper run my mouth and now my woman's gone. Normally I'd go after her, but the Russian and Israeli mafias want their merchandise back and if we don't find it they'll wipe us off the face of the earth. To make matters worse, there are traitors in the Iron Horse MC that are feeding our every move to our enemies, kidnapping our women and children, and killing our men. I have to stay here in Austin and try to save our people while Sarah is out there, somewhere, alone, hunting down some of the most dangerous men in the world. I can only pray that God takes mercy on my wicked soul and protects my baby girl from those seeking to cash in on the massive bounty on her head before I can find her. 'Cause if they find her first death would be a mercy compared to the nightmare her life will become.


The Author:

With over forty published books, Ann is Queen of the Castle to her husband and three sons in the mountains of West Virginia. In her past lives she's been an Import Broker, a Communications Specialist, a US Navy Civilian Contractor, a Bartender/Waitress, and an actor at the Michigan Renaissance Festival. She also spent a summer touring with the Grateful Dead-though she will deny to her children that it ever happened.

From a young Ann has had a love affair with books would read everything she could get her hands on. As Ann grew older, and her hormones kicked in, she discovered bodice ripping Fabio-esque romance novels. They were great at first, but she soon grew tired of the endless stories with a big wonderful emotional buildup to really short and crappy sex. Never a big fan of purple prose, throbbing spears of fleshy pleasure and wet honey pots make her giggle, she sought out books that gave the sex scenes in the story just as much detail and plot as everything else-without using cringe worthy euphemisms. This led her to the wonderful world of Erotic Romance, and she's never looked back.

Now Ann spends her days trying to tune out cartoons playing in the background to get into her 'sexy space' and has accepted that her Muse has a severe case of ADD.

Ann loves to talk with her fans, as long as they realize she's weird, and that sarcasm doesn't translate well via text.