July 2014 Issue Bewitching Book Tours Magazine

Bewitching Book Tours Magazine Issue 25 July 2014

Bewitching Book Tours Magazine is a publication of Bewitching Book Tours and Bewitching Books.

Editor: Roxanne Rhoads Design Editor and Layout: Lisa McGeen Contributors include Bewitching Book Tours Authors and Tour Hosts learn more at www.bewitchingbooktours.blogspot.com Ad space rates are: $40 full page ad $20 half page ad $10 quarter page ad You can subscribe to this magazine at http://issuu.com/bewitchingbooktours Š Copyright 2014 Stock images from www.123rf.com

Contents Gemini Rising Feature The Lost and Broken Realm Feature A Warlock’s Dance Witches Bounty Feature Witches Bounty Review Angel Kin Feature ClaraBelle’s Custom Creations White Heart of Justice Feature Stich Witch Creations Sentinels of New Orleans Feature Advice for Authors Euphoria-Z Feature Thereafter Feature Breaking the Bond Feature Naughty Nook The Boss Feature Paranormal Pleasures II Feature Interview with Victoria Nightshade Excerpt from Immortal Flame Review of Paranormal Pleasures II Pin Up Files Exploring Pin Up Contests Photography

4 8 12 16 21 22 26 28 32 39 44 48 52 58 61 62 70 73 76 78 81 82 84

Temptation Road that very night. She introduced herself to the location The New and Last Mary Chapter 1 scout and asked about the house and the town with the The house on the bend of Temptation Road came to be frightful name.

Reagan’s quite by chance, or by destiny, perhaps. If she hadn’t overheard a location scout telling her soon to be ex-husband about the Victorian confection he just

“Oh, not frightful at all!” he gushed, “entrancing, captivating!”

couldn’t get out of his head, she might not ever have

That was all she needed to hear, she set out to find that

known about Seven Devils, North Carolina. But the

ruin of a house as she left her ruin of a marriage with-

young man was captivated by the rambling, crumbling, out shedding a single tear. She boarded a flight at LAX curly-cued good witch’s house, and he felt that it had to and flew across the country, toward anything auspibe immortalized on film. She was at a wrap party for

cious.

Carlo, the brilliant director’s latest movie, another

When she landed in Knoxville it seemed she’d only

block-buster without a doubt. Carlo was her husband,

just boarded the plane. Had she slept or even blinked in

and he wasn’t listening at all, he simply peered over the so short a time? Maybe she’d entered a time warp or young man’s head. His gaze lingered on his soon-to-be traveled through a wormhole, it seemed she’d dreamed -next-wife lounging poolside, wearing nothing more

she was flying and suddenly she had arrived. Such hap-

than a body-paint bikini and a desperate look. But

penings would become commonplace once she inhabit-

Reagan stepped up and listened to the story of the

ed the Mary’s house, things that were beguiling and

Mary’s house and packed her Louis Vuitton luggage

whispered of love and magic and enchantment. But all

of that was yet to come.

She wound up and around and into banks of fog that

She called her mother and then her best friend, Alana,

threatened to engulf the SUV and her along with it, she

from the Crowne Plaza, it wasn’t the type of hotel she

was, it seemed, vanishing into oblivion. The road was

preferred, but it was the best the city had to offer. She

so narrow in some places and the visibility so poor,

told them she was flushing her cell phone down the

that she wondered what on earth had possessed her to

toilet along with the last ten years of her life and she’d run away. Why had she wandered into this remote part let them know her new number as soon as she had one. of the world, what had drawn her so urgently? Several She said she could no longer stand the sight of Carlo,

times she nearly slipped off the edge of the road, the

or to be loved by Sean, and that she didn’t want to be

car’s tires spinning and sending small rocks tumbling

admired by the world. She was disappearing into the

down the mountainside.

mountains, to a different life, to something that was

When she came to a scenic overlook and pulled over,

still hidden from her but she was certain it would make she stared ahead at the most beautiful cloud-shrouded itself known. She didn’t flush the phone, she just let it

mountain vista she could ever have hoped for. She

swim for a while in the pristine white potty, then fished started to get out then noticed a large black bear rusit out and crushed it beneath the heel of her Hermes

tling through a trash bin, it looked her way and made a

boot.

mewling cry. She locked the doors as if the creature

Both her mother and Alana were concerned over her

might dare to climb in with her, she began to shake

abrupt flight from Los Angeles, but they were glad

violently with fear of wild things and her future, as she

she’d left Carlo. Reagan assured them she could feel

inched along the perilous road. She pulled into the first

happiness and meaning beginning to grow and take

motel whose sign caught her headlights and rested her

shape in her soul by the minute, so they were glad for

cheek against the steering wheel before going into the

her, in spite of their concern.

office. At the front desk she asked how far she was

She bought a pearl white Yukon SUV the next morning and paid for it with her titanium American Express card, then she drove into the Blue Ridge Mountains.

from Seven Devils and if there had been any incidence of bears wandering the motel property.

Housekeeping woke her early in the morning, banging

on the cheap metal door. She peeked out and told the maid to give her half an hour. When she stepped into the

world outside, it was dazzling sunlight with an electric blue sky and a hundred shades of green and pine trees that pierced the roving clouds then reached to heaven and beyond. The mountain world was sharply green, not only as a color but as an all-encompassing smell. It inundated the senses, a saturated aroma of pine bark and sap and needles and fallen cones, sprightly and scintillating. It spoke to something locked inside her, something as old as the beginning of the very particles she was made of. Whispering its secrets softly, beckoning and calling wordlessly, “rest in me, here is where we all began, come into me and exist.�

Temptation Road Book 1 Kimball Lee Genre: Paranormal Romance Publisher: Green Pastures Ink ISBN: 9781301172214 ASIN: B00F70LNO0 Number of pages: 50 Word Count: 18,500 Book Description:

What if you had to choose between a life of fame and luxury or finding your truest love while restoring a house overflowing with magic and enchantment in the Blue Ridge Mountains?

Reagan Hart is the DeLuca Girl, hers is the world famous face of a generation. Her husband has directed five of the highest grossing movies of all time, and her ex is a hunky detective who can't get her out of his heart. She has all that glitters, but it isn't at all what she bargained for. Beguiled by the story of a mystical old house in the Blue Ridge Mountains, she walks out on her past and into her future.

In the village of Seven Devils, North Carolina she is drawn to and enchanted by The Mary's House and comes face to face and heart to heart with breathtakingly handsome and reclusive Fletcher Green. Fletcher steals Reagan's heart in an instant but there are secrets to be told and he hasn't uttered a single word in twenty years. Only his brother Teddy has discovered the mysterious truth that sets Fletcher apart from all others.

The two brothers will rebuild The Mary's House for Reagan and along with a town full of eccentric's she just might find her place among the charms and bits of magic, both good and evil. Fate, destiny, passion and a touch of the divine will change her forever as she becomes a part of all that exists on Temptation Road.

Get Your Free Copy - Amazon BN iTunes Kobo About the Author: Kimball Lee had break out success with Surrendering Charlotte Chronicles in the 2013 and hasn’t looked back. The topics of her novels and novella-series will vary, but her style of writing remains the same. Kimball doesn’t write 700 page books padded with useless words that take three pages to describe a doorknob. She does write funny, interesting, happy, sad, romantic, often titillating, and always thought provoking books that pack a lot good reading into just the right number of pages. Lee’s first novella, Legal Action, changed her life over night with more than 200,000 downloads in the first 90 days of publication. Kimball writes twelve to fifteen hours a day and she loves ALMOST every minute of it! Kimball Lee is represented by Joyce Holland at D4EO Literary Agency. Connect with Kimball via her social media networks, she actively engages her readers and shares some really great content! www.KimballLee.com www.kimballbooks.blogspot.com www.facebook.com/KimballLeeAuthor www.twitter.com/KimballLee1 Amazon Author Page: http://www.amazon.com/KimballLee/e/B00ECONMB4/

The snapping and crunching of branches told me something was moving through the trees. Turning the flash light off, I hunched down to be as small and invisible as possible. I listened in the darkness for anything that would let me know where the noise had come from and what had made it. Voices were carried to me in the dark, a man and a woman. I moved slowly back towards my things and sat with my back against the tree straining to see in the dark.

Time stopped as I waited to see if the voices kept moving or came closer. I wasn’t sure what I’d do if they did come closer. I touched the handle of the knife inside my coat, hoping this wasn’t when I find out if I could use it. Leaves rustled from behind me. I held my breath and pushed back against the tree, waiting. When I heard a low growl coming from around the tree I think even my heart even paused.

I had strangers coming closer on one side of me and an animal voicing a warning behind me. Tremor shook his head and pranced a few times and the growling got louder. I sat there trying to gauge what was the most important and decided there was no way I was going to let something happen to my horse. Sliding up the tree as quietly as I could, while focusing on the voices, I tried to recall every skill instilled in me, drawing more blanks than anything useful.

Pulling the knife from the pocket, I prayed it was sharp enough to cut the rope I’d tied Tremor to. I guessed I had about fifteen seconds to cut it and get to the horse before whatever was growling took a bite off one of my legs or other body parts. Chewing my lip, I hoped I could still get on his back without the saddle. The plan was to ride like hell and come back later for my stuff—if we could find it again.

After the Silence – Bree Part 1 Jacqueline Paige Genre: Paranormal Urban Fantasy / Survivalist Tagline: One woman’s journey through the chaotic new world.

Those left standing make the paths for the future generations.

Book Description: When the Mother Nature decides she’s had enough and begins to fight back, survival takes on a whole new meaning. If the earth is the enemy – there are no rules and all you can do is try to survive the odds.

Those the planet allowed to live still have to survive the trials of the virus. If you manage to come out of it alive you are left with some form of mutation that could give you an ability that could be harmless or lethal.

Bree Taylor is the last survivor of her family. With no other choice she sets off on her own to escape the clutches of the new government’s army—that does not place safety and security in their code of behavior only the highest bidder get their protection and loyalty.

Living in a world of unstable climate changes becomes a journey she won’t soon forget. She has to be prepared for anything at all times out in the new country and has to be wary of every person she meets. All while staying out of the path of the new army.

This is a 4 part serial story releasing from June - September.

Release Date for part 1 is June 18, part 2 releases July 18th The entire volume will be released in January 2015 as one book. http://www.firstrealmpublishing.com/

Claws dug into me as it climbed to my neck at the same moment ice cold water swallowed me.

My breath left my body so quickly it felt like my lungs were going to burst. The intense pain from the incisions the animal was making across my chest brought me the strength to kick as hard as I could towards the surface. I wasn’t the strongest swimmer by far, but I had more than enough will to live to try for both of us.

In the brief glimpses I managed to keep my head above the water, I didn’t spot the shore once.

We were being sucked into the middle. Through the white choppy water that blurred my vision I was only able to catch a quick look each time before we were dragged under again. I could feel the rocks rake over my back and hoped there would be enough flesh left to survive it.

The cat was practically wrapped around my neck and holding several layers of skin and flesh captive in its young claws as we swirled around again in a deep pit of rushing water. Each time we surfaced, I gulped as much air into my lungs as I could before water filled my mouth again.

The undercurrent calmed just long enough for me to find the direction of shore and with every ounce of strength I could find I kicked and paddled with my arms trying to shove us in that direction. I could make out a tree that was floating near the bank just seconds before I was inhaling water again.

Hitting the bottom I shoved as hard as I could and tried to aim to the calmer water near the

shore, not even knowing if I was going in the right direction until air hit my face once more.

The tree was still in sight and I somehow knew if we didn’t reach it we wouldn’t be on land after that. Releasing my hold on the animal that was anchored to me so deeply that no way was it going to jump off and float away I swam towards the tree and prayed I’d reach the limbs lying in the water before we were dragged beyond them.

After the Silence – Bree Part 2 Jacqueline Paige Genre: Paranormal Urban Fantasy / Survivalist One woman’s journey through the chaotic new world.

Bree Taylor is the last survivor of her family. With no other choice she sets off on her own to escape the clutches of the new government’s army—that does not place safety and security in their code of behavior only the highest bidder get their protection and loyalty.

Living in a world of unstable climate changes becomes a journey she won’t soon forget. She has to be prepared for anything at all times out in the new country and has to be wary of every person she meets. All while staying out of the path of the new army. bout the Author: Jacqueline Paige lives in Ontario in a small town that’s part of the popular Georgian Triangle area. No one has ever heard of Stayner, so she usually tells people she lives “near Collingwood” and no, she doesn’t ski at Blue Mountain or at all, in fact she’s not even fond of snow.

She began her writing career in 2006 and since her first published works in 2009 she hasn’t stopped. Jacqueline describes her writing as “all things paranormal”, which she has proven is her niche with stories of witches, ghosts, physics and shifters now on the shelves.

When Jacqueline isn’t working at her ‘reality job’ or lost in her writing she spends time with her five children, most of whom are finally able to look after her instead of the other way around. Together they do random road trips, that usually end up with them lost, shopping trips where they push every button in the toy aisle, hiking when there’s enough time to escape and bizarre things like creating new daring recipes in the kitchen. She’s a grandmother to four (so far) and looks forward to corrupting many more in the years to come.

Jacqueline loves to hear from her readers, you can find her at www.jacqpaige.webs.com , www.jacqpaige.blogspot.ca or http://magicseasonsbooks.blogspot.ca

Black Moon The Black Moon Saga Book 1 Becca C. Smith & F.M. Sherrill Genre: Paranormal Romance Publisher: Red Frog Publishing Date of Publication: 07/07/14

ISBN: 9780985027698 ASIN: Number of pages: 283 Word Count: 68,000 Cover Artist: Becca C. Smith & F.M. Sherrill Book Description: Shea Harper is forced to stay in boring, hot and dry Phoenix, Arizona for college. But once she meets the enigmatic yet positively egocentric Lucian, Shea’s life changes forever.

She finds out that she comes from a long line of descendants called Vessels. In her soul is the key to destroying an ancient prison protecting the world from darkness itself: Lucian’s father.

Up until now, Lucian has captured every descendant except Shea. With her powers awakening, all vampires want to drag her down to the pit. But Lucian is territorial. She’s the first female Vessel… and he’s convinced she belongs to him.

Saucy and tauntingly surprising, Black Moon captures the struggle between burning alive with desire and castrating the heart. This is a love story that will drain you dry.

About the Authors: Becca C. Smith: Becca C. Smith received her Film degree from Full Sail University and has worked in the Film and Television industry for most of her adult life. In 2010 Becca published her first novel, Riser followed by the sequel, Reaper, in 2011, and the finale, Ripper in 2013. In 2012 Becca wrote the children’s novel Alexis Tappendorf and the Search for Beale’s Treasure. She is also the coauthor of the teen graphic novel Ghost Whisperer: The Haunted.

Most recently Becca released Atlas, the first book in a new urban fantasy series. She currently lives in Los Angeles, CA with her husband, Stephan and their two cats Jack and Duke.

F.M. Sherrill:

Aren't author's bios boring? I always wanted to read one that went something like this: F.M. Sherrill: recent citizen of earth. Plans on ruling the planet once she gets over the common cold. Or, F.M. Sherrill: time traveler. Decided to alter the space-time continuum by writing a novel, thus changing history slightly, which will eventually lead to the rise of a new human species.

But here it is. F.M. Sherrill is a novelist, A.K.A. an avid bullshitter; that's why she lives in L.A.. She's been writing for as long as her ancient mind can remember, devouring tales like an anemic vampire roaming the streets in hot pink heels, always thirsty for more. When she's not writing, she's making steampunk weapons, sewing giant plant-eater Mario plushes, making costumes for some film bloke or cosplayer, and sculpting/casting movie prop replicas while gardening in her urban apartment. Her favorite tools? A soldering iron, a blowtorch, a band saw, a sonic screwdriver, a replicator and an active imagination.

Blog: http://girlswritingcoffee.blogspot.com Twitter: @therisersaga and @fmsherrill

Simply Green: Easy Things You Can Do to Be Green and Save Money

By Wenona Napolitano Are you green? Are you thinking about going green? It’s easier than you think.

You’ve probably wondered what you can do to live a greener life that doesn’t cost a fortune or have you munching on granola.

Trying to wade through all the green information floating around out there can be difficult. Everyone’s popping up with green tag lines and green products, but is throwing out all your old stuff and buying new eco-friendly products going to solve anything? No, it just leads more stuff in the landfill which defeats the purpose of going green.

Here are simple ways you can go green without going broke or changing your lifestyle very much.

These simple things can even save you money.

Fix all leaky faucets and pipes. This will save water and save energy therefore reducing your water and energy bills.

Install low flow showerheads, faucet aerators, and toilets that use less water. The initial investment is minimal and in less than a year you’ll recoup that money through savings on your water and energy bills.

Unplug any appliances and other electronics when not in use. Even though something may be off, as long as it is plugged in it is still drawing power.

Invest in rechargeable batteries. They do not cost a great deal more than regular batteries but they last over ten times longer.

Change out regular incandescent bulbs for compact fluorescent lights (CFL’s). These bulbs last 6-10 times longer than a regular bulb and use much less energy. CFL’s come in dimmable versions now, too. So if you have a light with a dimmer switch there are CFL’s available for that.

Use solar powered lights for outdoor lighting.

Reduce the length of your shower and shower with warm not hot water. You can start out hot then gradually ease the temperature down as you go too.

Wash clothing in cold water instead of hot.

Wear clothing more than once before washing it. No, I’m not talking about underwear and socksouterwear like jeans, sweaters, sweatshirts, etc. do not have to go into the hamper right after wearing them unless they are heavily soiled, wear them a couple more times before washing them.

Put lids on pots and pans when you are cooking. I know, sounds so simple and it is. The food will heat up faster, more evenly and on lower heat, plus it will stay warmer longer. You’ll save energy all around.

Take reusable bags to the grocery store and on other shopping trips. This is another very simple thing. Keep all those plastic bags out of landfills by using durable canvas totes or other reusable bags.

Keep an extra stash in your car so you always have some with you.

Reduce the number of miles you drive. Think about walking or riding a bike more, carpooling, or even talk to your boss about telecommuting. This will reduce the need for expensive gasoline and reduce the amount of transportation pollution being released into the air. Plus if you walk or ride your bike more, you’ll get in shape and be a healthier person.

When buying products look for items that are recycled, recyclable, sustainable and organic. Also look for durable products made from recycled or reclaimed materials. Organic isn’t just for food either.

Organic fabrics, body products and more are now available.

Purchase recycled or tree-free paper.

Refill and recycle your ink cartridges to save money and keep them out of landfills.

Recycle whenever possible. Some products you can even get money for recycling, like certain metals.

Download songs, movies, television shows and more instead of buying CDs and DVDs. If you really want to be green you could try your hand at making your own recycled paper, it could be a lot of fun.

Shop locally. Buy locally grown fresh fruits and veggies. If they are organic, even better.

Have a green thumb? Grow your own organic goodies. Many veggies can be grown in containers if you don’t have a lot of space.

Going green doesn’t have to mean big changes in your lifestyle but even the simplest things can have a big impact on the world we live in. So do your part and be simply green. Who knows you may enjoy it and want to do more.

Nerd Culture At no point did either of us imagine that this book would speak to all people who identify as nerds or geeks. It was never intended that way, as that’s just as simplistic as labeling someone those things in derision. However, we did want to embrace the things we love – and we know many others do.

Pete: I don’t label myself as a nerd or geek. I just like the things I like and many of those things are considered nerdy or geeky. As a general rule, labeling is pretty stupid. Isn’t it ironic that I just labeled the label?

Anyway. I’ve gotten a great deal of feedback for this book. A lot of people have said they love the references and that we are connected to nerd culture, which is great. Some people say the characters are fake, posers, stereotypes, etc. Also that there is no mention of Doctor W ho. By default, these comments reflect on us as the authors. So I would say it’s difficult for me to be a poser when I don’t know what I am supposed to be posing as. What I wanted to do was write a fun and entertaining book that included the things I love and a number of “Easter eggs” for fans of similar things, because I love finding those myself when I’m reading. I love feeling like, “Ah ha – I get that and I bet other people won’t.” As far as the lack of Doctor W ho, I just started watching it six months ago, so I would have actually been a poser had I included it in the book. Since I was not yet watching it. However, having now watched the first six seasons, I’m quite a fan and will be cramming Doctor Who into something with much glee.

Sarah: Personally, that’s what annoys me most when someone says that it’s indicative of all geeks or fake geeks. In my experience, being a nerd was never cool. It was not something you could embrace when I was a kid and in school. I used to have to turn over my papers and tests and pretend I failed if I didn’t want to be harassed by other kids. I was embarrassed that my parents were at every event and that my teachers all liked me. I had no friends. But I had games and books and movies. I never knew how to be normal or to fit in because I wasn’t welcome and that led me to being a lot like Katie. I couldn’t identify with others, so I was able to embrace what I loved honestly. Now, being nerdy is cool. That’s both good and bad, I guess. It’s nice being able to find more people who love what you do, but it’s also resulted in this kind of hipster, “I was a nerd first” philosophy. That’s dumb. Having been the loser, I don’t know why I would ostracize anyone who likes what I like. Yay. That’s just someone else I can talk to about Firefly.

Pete: I think it’s strange this “I’m cooler than you because I’m nerdier than you” idea that crops up, as it is contrast to, well, history. It also reminds me of a similar situation to my college experience. You were only cool if you could name thirty bands no one else had ever heard of and that’s kind of like the fandom fights. If I can’t speak Dothraki, I’m a loser. This never made sense to me. If you know of something that’s really awe-

some, and I haven’t heard of it, instead of looking down on me for not knowing about it, how about you tell me about it – and we can enjoy it together?

Sarah: Exactly. Nothing makes me happier than finding out someone has read a book I love that is maybe not popular or has seen a movie or something I watch on repeat. I’m one of those people who feels like I want to spread the love of something, not limit it to only select people. There are so many great lessons in Harry Potter and Doctor Who and Star Wars and Final Fantasy and all these things – why would I feel entitled to keep them locked away from people?

Excerpt: “These graphics suck,” George says and I look back at the screen. We’re standing in the middle of the Estate, colorful orbs quivering ahead of us. We each have to choose our starting advantage. Waterfalls shimmer in the distance and the sunlight streams over multicolored stones in the courtyard.

“Amateurs,” Lanyon concurs. “I mean, they couldn’t have five waterfalls?”

“Your ironic wit is mind blowing, but choose your damn orbs,” I tell them. I consider. Magic, defense, offense, stealth, and charisma. I always go for magic as a black mage, but I wonder if a druid needs something else. Screw it. I need charisma in real life, too.

“Charisma?” Lanyon asks. “No one ever picks charisma.”

“We’re a party of a thief, druid, and a bard. We’re screwed regardless.”

“You two underestimate the mighty power of my lute,” George argues.

“Did you start with charisma?” Lanyon asks.

“Hell, no. I have charisma in spades. I started with stealth.”

“Great. A stealthy bard,” I sigh.

“She’s right,” Lanyon concedes. “We’re screwed.”

However, it actually isn’t bad at all at first. We power through the Estate and make it to the Yobanaria Dale with no resurrections and all at level ten. I’m impressed. George hasn’t actually fought anything, but he has some pretty awe-inspiring charm mastery already. I think I might have a serious crush. He seals the deal when he buffs my hailstorm spell without even being asked.

“Can you guys watch El Thiefelo? My mom wants me to eat supper,” Lanyon says.

“Yeah, we’ve got it,” I tell him. “The first boss is in the elven ruins anyway, so we should grind a bit.

I think he’s a twelve.”

George and I explore the Dale, taking out bats and Joba spores. It’s fairly quiet, except for when we combo with his charms and my spells and he yells out, “Eat lute, bitch,” but it’s nice. We work well, almost inherently understanding each other. I’ve never been able to play this effectively with anyone. I try not to think about his eyes. Stupid boys, being cute and stuff.

By the time Lanyon comes back, we’re all at level 12, although Lanyon leveled up just by standing by a door while we played. Still, we are ready to take on Balsa the Proud. As a black mage, it took me about nine seconds. Trees don’t like fire. However, druids don’t have the same level of black magic and all elemental magic is weakened by the need to draw from the elements nearby. Sadly, trees seem to avoid storing fire runes in their villages. I expect this to be a little more challenging. It might even take fifteen seconds.

“First boss. Also known as the freebie bitch to sucker the young folks into a false sense of security,” Lanyon announces as he runs into the center of Balsa’s lair. The cinema plays and then, in a moment of pure absurdity, El Thiefelo is squished as Balsa steps on him.

“Can someone revive me?” Lanyon whines.

Backward Compatible Sarah Daltry and Pete Clark Genre: Geek Romance Book Description: Not too long ago, in a town that, depending on your current location, is either not super far or actually quite close…

It is a time of chaotic hormones.

Two nerdy gents home for winter break have discovered a female gamer at a midnight release.

During the break, the gamer trio manages to reveal the game’s secret boss, a hidden enemy with enough power to destroy anything in its path.

Pursued by other gamers who want to be the first to beat this boss, George and Katie race to level up, and, in so doing, restore decency and sexual activity to their personal galaxy…

Available at Amazon Amazon UK Apple BN Kobo Smashwords ARe

About the Authors: Sarah Daltry: Sarah Daltry writes about the regular people who populate our lives. She's written works in various genres - romance, erotica, fantasy, horror. Genre isn't as important as telling a story about people and how their lives unfold. Sarah tends to focus on YA/NA characters but she's been known to shake it up. Most of her stories are about relationships - romantic, familial, friendly - because love and empathy are the foundation of life. It doesn't matter if the story is set in contemporary NY, historical Britain, or a fantasy world in the future - human beings are most interesting in the ways they interact with others. This is the principle behind all of Sa-

rah's stories.

Sarah has spent most of her life in school, from her BA and MA in English and writing to teaching both at the high school and college level. She also loves studying art history and really anything because learning is fun.

When Sarah isn't writing, she tends to waste a lot of time checking Facebook for pictures of cats, shooting virtual zombies, and simply staring out the window.

She has written several books, most notably Bitter Fruits, an urban fantasy in the Eden’s Fall series, and the six-part New Adult contemporary Flowering series. Her most recent release is Primordial Dust, a YA fantasy.

Pete Clark: Pete Clark likes writing, animals, potato chips, and cheese. Midnight Riders was his first published novel, although he can also proudly say he finally finished Helix Crashing, the fantasy novel he has been working on for over a decade. In addition, he has written Across the Barren Landscape, a collection of linked Western short stories, and Tales from Midnight’s Graveyard, a collection of non-linked horror, science fiction, and fantasy stories. He also writes plays, both dramatic and comedic.

When he is not writing, Pete tends to ignore everyone around him and obsess over sports.

Sarah’s Website: http://sarahdaltry.com Pete’s Website: http://punchmyselfintheface.wordpress.com Sarah’s Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/AuthorSarahDaltry Pete’s Facebook: http:// www.facebook.com/ PeteClarkAuthor Sarah’s Twitter: http:// twitter.com/SarahDaltry Pete’s Twitter: http:// twitter.com/PeteClarkBooks

Bewitching Book Tours is now offering custom book swag creations that can be added on to tour packages or ordered separately.

We are offering high quality, hand crafted, one of a kind items made to match your book. Currently we are offering beaded bookmarks, beaded keychains, purse charms, belt loop charms, wine glass charms, and earrings.

These items can be created with colored beads to match the colors in your book cover.

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Contact Roxanne at RoxanneRhoads@bewitchingbooktours.com for custom price quotes

Propping her bare feet on the edge of the ancient desk, Molly Ryan took a well-deserved pull of her beer. Before dropping her head back to ease the tension in her shoulders she closed her aching eyes and sighed heavily.

It was nearly two in the afternoon, which meant she’d been locked in the pub’s office for roughly six hours, getting caught up on the weekly invoicing, payroll and upcoming supply orders.

The office had no window to enjoy the lake view, but she knew it was a glorious, sunny summer day. It was well worth the sacrifice of her Sunday off to know that she’d put a major dent in her work week, though. With Noah and Tennyson off on their honeymoon for the next two weeks, they’d left Molly in charge of more than just her normal duties.

Managing a busy pub like the Drunken Duck was enough work, but taking on Noah’s responsibilities as owner added a little more tension to her shoulders. To be fair, it was a challenge she was more than up for. Noah had left his brother, Chris, as her second in command for the duration, giving plenty of help.

She heard the service door open down the hall. Undoubtedly it was Chris to check in with her. He had a normal work week as an architect and helped out in the evenings and weekends as needed. He was likely stopping after seeing her sporty red coupe in the empty parking lot.

“Hey, Mr. Sexy Pants, I’m in the office. Bring me another beer on your way!” She couldn’t help teasing him.

He’d spent the previous night fighting off advances from Lexie, his latest crazy chick, as Tenn would call her.

At one point Lexie had cornered Chris next to the bar, put a slim hand down the front of his tuxedo pants, and called him Mr. Sexy Pants loud enough for half the bar to hear. Watching Chris turn ten shades of red while attempting to pull the tenacious girl’s hand from his pants had caused Molly to fall off her bar stool in hysterical laughter. Even after landing squarely on her ass and spilling her scotch down the front of her bridesmaid dress, effectively ruining it, she still couldn’t stop laughing.

As the office door opened behind her, she pushed off from the desk. The movement sent the chair whirling around, making the tiny room spin in a quick half turn.

“Hey… Oh.” Well, that wasn’t Chris standing in her doorway. Where Chris was leanly muscled, this guy looked like a hulking linebacker, with heavily muscled arms and a chest broad enough to block the sun. He had a black duffel bag slung over one shoulder, exposing the underside of a thick biceps and a heavy tribal tattoo ending at the elbow.

Intensity pulsed off of him. Light mocha skin, a smoothly shaved head, and steely gray eyes, he exuded a quiet watchfulness that was at odds with his stern demeanor. He had an obvious perpetual scowl set on his face. A face, upon closer inspection, that had a full mouth and broad features and a light scar running across his left

cheek, just under the eye.

He watched her watching him, and no one spoke for a moment. Molly belatedly realized she was sitting in front of a ridiculously hot stranger in her pajamas. Not even her cute pajamas. When she’d rolled out of bed after a night of just a little too much scotch and not enough sleep, she hadn’t even considered running into anyone. Her apartment was three blocks away, the pub was closed every Sunday, and most of the town was also recovering from Noah and Tenn’s wedding reception.

Who was this guy, and where had he come from? And could she keep him?

If the vixen in black pajama bottoms with pink skulls was Noah’s new bride, then Cal was in a lot of trouble. It went against his code to covet a fellow soldier’s woman. But he was hard-pressed to take his eyes off the petite beauty with a shock of unruly auburn hair and a full, pouty mouth. She darted her tongue across a lush bottom lip, causing his libido to stand at attention.

It was well past time to stop cataloging every attribute of the woman before him, especially if she was Noah’s. “I’m looking for Noah Harper. Is he around?”

“Noah?” She shook her head, as if clearing it, before going on. “He’s not in, but I’m the manager of the Drunken Duck. Can I help you?”

It was relief, first and foremost, that washed over him. Cal was grateful he’d had a chance to speak with Noah earlier in the week. Molly wasn’t Noah’s wife, but the woman he was here to look after.

Two in the Afternoon A Day of Pleasure Book 2 Cora Cade Genre: Contemporary Romance Publisher: Samhain Date of Publication: July 29, 2014 ISBN: 978-1-61922-298-4 ASIN: Word Count: 26,000 Cover Artist: Lyn Taylor Book Description: When it comes to hand-to-heart combat, no hold is barred.

Molly Ryan survived one attack, and she’s not about to be a sitting duck for another. With her attacker harassing her from his jail cell, she packs up her life in Chicago, follows her Delta Force brother to North Carolina and gets work in a pub.

Men in uniform are definitely off her menu, but her boss’s friend, Army Ranger Callum Eversman, is one hot hunk she’d like to sample.

Home on a two-week furlough, Cal has agreed to watch over Molly as a favor to fellow Ranger Noah Harper. Accomplishing his mission without her noticing? That’s going to be tough, as any idiot can see their sparks of attraction from a mile away.

Despite her hands-off-military-men policy, Molly is tempted to indulge, just this once, in a nostrings-attached fling. No dating, no kissy face, no hearts involved. But when her past threatens her future, there’s only one man to turn to. The one who’ll risk everything—body, heart, and soul—to protect her.

Available at the Samhain Store About the Author: Nestled away in a small town in Ohio, I spend my days adding delicious books to my library, snuggling with my four rotten dogs, and debating the finer points of life with the dear husband.

When I'm not tucked away with a book you can be find me tapping away at my laptop. With coffee. And my iPod. FB: www.facebook.com/CoraCade Website: www.coracade.com GR: www.goodreads.com/coracade

Sophie Avett’s Witches Who Stitch Interview Rebekah Ganiere’s Adrian from Red the Were Hunter There is a boutique hiding out between the fractured, narrow storefronts lining New Gotham’s foggy docks. The shingles are ribbed and black. Washed, peeling paint and displays offering views into wicked leather and lace studded glam. The mannequins are ghoulish beauties stitched together from whatever was left from the last fool to cross one of the sinister witches.

Welcome to Sinister Stitches “…apparel for a wicked fairy tale.”

A spicy trinity of black magic sisters breathe star-dusted dreams to life with their gothic apparel boutique. They are schooled in the old ways of “fabric-bending” by the Needlewitches of old. With this knowledge, they’ve created an entire line of clothing that all share the same basic design element: one-size fits all. Each garment will magically tailor itself to its wearer once worn. Last time the Witches-Who-Stitch, hosted a literary catwalk, heroines were called from all walks of life and genres to challenge their seamstress skills. This time, their men have joined the fun—apparently, they’ve been sent to the boutique. (Whether they like it, or not.)

The witches were NOT expecting men. Their expertise is usually limited to DEMANDING their husbands NOT wear that in public, and, of course, the fashioning of fantastic clothing for all of literature’s heroines. (New Gotham’s men usually get their goods from Rumpel’s Twisted Threads, BUT that’s beyond the point, the girls put a quill to their interview, changed some bits, and rose to the occasion.)

To enjoy the hilarity, please check out some of the questionnaire Rebekah Ganiere’s Adrian from Red the Were Hunter (Fairelle Series) lifted from Brenda’s hand after he stalked into Sinister Stitches.

THE WITCHES WHO STITCH QUESTIONNAIRE

Please provide the witches with your name: Adrian Please provide the witches with the following: Hair Color: Brown Hair Length: [ ] Short and Sharp, [X] Shaggy and Sexy, [ ] Lush and Long Eye Color: Brown, turn golden when I shift though Skin Tone: [ ] Ghoulish, [ ] Snow White, [X] Cina-baby, [ ] Mochalicious, [ ] Dark Chocolate, [ ] Other:__________ Please provide the witches with your measurements and body-type.

a.) Height: 6 foot 2 b.) Body Type: [ ] Skeletal, [ ] Lean and Tender, [X] Lean and Tough, [ ] Ripe and Edible Do you have any extra extremities? Place an “X” to all that apply. [ ] Horns or [ ] Halo [ ] 20 ft. of Hair or More [ ] Gills and Fins or [ ] Hooves [ ] Wings (Span: ) [ ] Tail (How many: )

How many heads do you have? (Your boy bit doesn’t count!)

1 Do you have arms and legs? If so, how many?

2 arms 2 legs How dead are you? [X] Living, [ ] Undead, [ ] Astral Form What are you? (Species/Breed) King of the Wolves. A Werewolf.

What is the occasion? (Ideas include: Wedding, Funeral, Sabbath, etc. Oh, and seduction is a valid occasion. The more details, the better.)

A royal wedding. A dear friend of mine recently got engaged and is to be wed. He is also royalty, but his parents are much more conventional than we are. It will be a grand affair to be remembered. I'm not really looking forward to going, but my mate Redlynn says we must.

What’s the occasion setting? (Beach, haunted castle, grand ball, etc.)

It will be far south in the Dragonlands. The kingdom is a trek, but I hear the lands are quite beautiful.

Will you be fighting for your life at some point in the evening?

I surely hope not, but with the kinds of friends I keep, and the upheaval in our world right now, it is entirely possible.

Will you be set on fire? Better yet, will you be setting other people on fire?

I sure hope not.

Will you be grave-robbing? (Dirt is a tailor’s tedium.)

No. What are you wearing right now? Who picked that outfit out? (Basically, who let you leave the crypt in those?)

Right now, I am in a pair of breeches, a deep blue tunic and a pair of leather boots.

Do you hope to be naked at some point in the evening? (All right, dirty birds.

Such questions are actually intended toward the weres and shifters in regards to their transformations.)

Yes, I suppose if I have to fight, I will be. I lose more good pieces of clothing due to shifting than anything else.

Describe your last brush with Death in two sentences. (Helps us plan for the unexpected.)

Vampires attacked. We fought.

Do you need a secret compartment for gigantic swords? Guns and condoms?

Eyeliner, maybe?

Not really. I am my own weapon, and I doubt Redlynn's sword and bow would fit anywhere comfortably on me for me to conceal and carry it for her.

What are your three favorite colors?

Golden, the color of Redlynn's eyes. Red, the color of Redlynn's hair. Blue, the color of the first dress I saw her wear.

What two colors ninja your brain, sweetie?

None really. Color is color.

Please pick a style that you feel embodies you the best. If none apply, feel free to surprise us by providing your own brilliant description in the “other” slot. [ ] Dark Angel: This is for the spoonfuls of charming. The good-natured and naughty boys next door types. Thoughtful and sensual. Loyal and intelligent. More often than not, his head is in the clouds, but those dreams and that smile holds hope for all of us. Our philosophers.

[X] Beast King: This is for the warlords and alphas. The type of men who walk into a room and their presence hushes out the sun. They live in their bodies, but their minds are searching for the next challenge. Hands for fighting and these boots for asskickings. Our protectors. [ ] Smooth Criminal: This is for the bad boys. You know, the types---mother’s worse nightmares. The kind of man that makes your skin itch every time he devours you with that hundred yard stare. Chances are his senses of humor is as wicked as his tongue. To hold him, isn’t to catch him. Our scheming rogues. [ ] Black Knight: This for the mysteries. The ones no one can quite make heads or tails out off. He’s a mixture, a melting pot of strong, sinister, and sweet. He might be Dark Angel one day, and a Smooth Criminal other days. Our brothers. [ ] Other: _____________________ Who is your favorite comic/storybook villain?

I have no favorite storybook Villains. All the villains I have met are very real to me.

If you could be any comic/storybook book hero, who would it be?

Like I said, I do not read stories.

Now, tell us who you love the most.

My beautiful, strong mate Redlynn. After her my daughters and sons.

Anything else you’d like to add…

After many barrels of chocolate, a dash of magic, and furious sewing…

Sinister Stitches’ Leather Queen Brenda Dweyer presents Adrian’s Completed Threads “ The Ripper”

Next to a gleaming, gold antique resister, Brenda the She-Wolf is posted on the counter in a snake-skin cat-suit and a pair of vicious fuck-me red pumps. Eyes shielded behind a pair of Black Pearl Aviator shades, and waves of curls pulled up and tight on top of her head in a slick and shiny ponytail. Shiny, wet and skin-tight. To look at her hurts. To touch her hurts even more. When the gentleman standing in the middle of her mother’s gothic boutique brushes his eyes up and down Wonder Woman’s body, she answers with a sharp crescent of teeth bowing in sultry smile: Not a reader, huh? Well, I guess handing you a brochure is out of the question. Frankly, babycakes, you are a lost little babe in the woods. This is Sinister Stitches, son. Yeah, use your nose, sweetie. This is where all the pretty pink and lace is at. They make suits for

gentlemen such as yourself that way. Twisted Threads. You can have a business card on your way out. However, since you seem to be new in town, I’ll take time out my very busy hunting schedule and skin you something to wear.

Now, the girls and I have no idea how people are prone to dress where you come from, so we did away with the tux and whatever. Frankly, we kept things as simple as possible in order to give you maximum versatility. That is why we completely ignored your color request. No color is more versatility than green. None. It says “beggar” and “prince” in the same breath. And frankly, nothing is better for camouflage, and I gather your wife is a hunter. Camouflage is her best friend.

And if you’re gonna tag along, get with the program, sweetie.

First, we’re going to start simple and keep you in white double-collared shirt. No tie.

The bulk of your outfit is the special coat my sisters designed especially for you. This is a Sinister Stitches’ original. We’ve blended several different design elements to fashion you something Sherlock would be proud of. Frankly, that’s where we started. The Norfolk jacket is a Victorian classic. We did away with the tweed pattern, and instead substituted it for a blend of Neverwinter wool imported straight from the Veil. The blend is sturdy, and bulletproof.

Likewise, we did away with the fitted, tailored cut. You don’t need them. You’re physique speaks on its own. You were born blessed like that, so we adapted the material into a Helsing cut. The full “skirt” is free and flowing, and offers plenty of space for several Void compartments. Void material is imported from the Oblivion (incubus) realm.

There is one pocket in particular that is cut wide enough to allow a moderately sized bow to fit with ease. Arrows can be holstered in the pocket below it. Anything placed into the Void pocket will bend and fold with the material.

Now, that’s only if you hunt together. My husband and I prefer to do such things to to-

gether. If the color doesn’t suit, you are free to change it with by calling your coats name “Ripper” and issuing a simple color command. It should respond and adapt within in seconds. Don’t get flashy with the commands. Keep it basic. The wool used to fashion this outfit is a blend of several types of spider linens. It will revolt and constrict around you if you upset it. However, it is inflammable, and incredibly light and durable. The perfect hunter’s jacket.

I know, I’m the shit. Now, here, take this business card, and get out—you’re shedding all over my floor.

IMPORTANT BULLETINS from THE PIXIES: For more information about Rebekah Ganiere and Adrian’s adventures in Redlynn the Were Hunter series please check out her author website.

Care to check out the last round of Sinister Stitches interviews? Check out Sophie Avett and Jennifer Blackstream’s paranormal den, the Brimstone Pub. All SS interviews are retired there after their tour until the release of the SS e-book.

Fancy a tour of New Gotham? Check out New Gotham’s Survival Guide! It might save your life!

For more information about Sophie Avett’s New Gotham Fairy Tales, the Sinister Stitches series, and recent releases, please check out her website.

Image Credit(s): captblack76 Image Editing Credit(s): Elaina, For the Muse Design

Cry Wolf A New Gotham Fairy Tale Sophie Avett

Genre: Dark Fantasy Romance (MM/New Adult) Publisher: Skeleton Key Publishing Date of Publication: May 1, 2014 Number of pages: est. 22 pages Word Count: est. 10, 000 Cover Artist: Elaina, For the Muse Design Amazon BN ARe Kobo Smashwords Book Description: There’s a wild animal on the loose in the black forests surrounding New Gotham...

Not that anyone cares.

Well, Peter doesn't care.

Peter Ume is more interested in finding a way to alleviate the skull-numbing boredom of a city wide shut down. So far his ideas for excitement hover between stealing an unwary idiot’s underwear (soul works, too), setting someone’s eyebrows on fire, or stabbing the next person he meets in the eye with a hot French fry.

It turns out, he’ll be able to save assault and theft for a rainy day. As luck would have it, this naughty kitsune is about to meet the big bad wolf.

And man, is the wolf in for a surprise...

Warning: This story can be read as a standalone, but you will want to smack Sophie for it. (Or so the ravens have said.) So, do keep in mind that there is a part two. (And it will be a freebie. Sophie’s Pixies will carrier pigeon everyone more information soon.)

About the Author: Sophie Avett is kind of a nerd. Like not even one of the cute, hip ones everyone brags about nowadays. More like the socially awkward hippie who eats way too much bread and dreams about being a dragon from behind towers of mythology books. Um...yeah.

Picture old, tattered paperbacks and comic books--mostly Batman and Wonder Woman --dwarfing a tiny desk, with just barely enough room for the troll who writes there and the 70 pound hell-hound that insists on laying it's wet nose on top of her bare foot.

Granted not the most exciting existence, but she tries to make up for it by writing ro-

mances populated with her own peculiar ilk of paranormal beasties. Trolls, wyverns, the obscure Nordic brownie--she likes to keep things interesting. And bloody. (And mostly naked--but, we'll keep that bit between us.)

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/SophieAvett Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7779293.Sophie_Avett Sinister Stitches Boutique Blog: http://sophieavettsinisterstitches.blogspot.com/ Newsletter Post-Its, the Blog: http://sophieavett.weebly.com/post-its-the-blog.html Brimstone Pub, the Blog: http://thebrimstonepub.com/

Only five steps into the courtyard and already one clansman was circling her, a flirtatious grin on his handsome face. Somehow it was all infectious and as determined as she was to stay by McKayla’s side, she soon found herself in the arms of first one then another Scotsman. Some were her height, many taller, but none as tall as the man who she eventually ended up dancing with.

“I hear I had you worried.”

It took everything she had to look into Bradon’s deep, green eyes. She hated how aware of him she’d become. How her heart seemed to clench a little too tightly. “Don’t overthink it.”

“Ah, so I did have you worried. ‘Tis good,” he said softly. “Every lad should have a wee bonnie lass or two to welcome him home after a good battle.”

She arched a brow and found it easier and easier by the moment to look at him. “Or two?”

“Or three even,” he replied easily, an irritating grin on his face.

“What happened when you left us?” she asked, determined to steer the conversation away from him thinking her an easy target.

“They followed,” he said as if she should have that figured out. “And I evaded.” He shrugged. “Then I killed a few.”

“Why are you not covered in blood then?”

“Because I’m not brutal.” His eyes dropped to her lips before returning to her eyes. “‘Tis not a difficult thing to find water and bathe, lass.”

He did seem rather fresh…in more ways than one. “So will the MacLeod’s be showing up at the MacLomain’s doorstep once more?”

His hand slid lower down her back and he pulled her closer. “Nay, lassie. ‘Tis time to relax.”

She pushed him back a fraction and frowned. “I can relax just fine without being up against you.”

“Can you then?” But he didn’t let her go too far. His hand cupped the side of her neck. “The muscles here.” His thumb ran around the back, giving her shivers. “As well as the muscles here.” He pressed slightly.

“They are like stone.”

Her eyes dropped to his strong neck then the wide chest covered by his tunic. Being close to this man was a very bad idea. But for the life of her she couldn’t pull away.

Vow of the Highlander The MacLomain Series Next Generation: Book 2 Sky Purington Genre: Time Travel Fantasy Romance

Date of Publication: June 3, 2014 ASIN: B00KR0VEMG Number of pages: 246 Word Count: 76,000 Formats available: PDF Cover Artist: Tamra Westberry Book Description: A successful literary agent, Leslie has no desire to be part of the infamous connection between her Broun heritage and the MacLomain clan. But Fate is finicky and determined to thrust her through time into the path of the laird’s brother.

Bradon MacLomain made a vow to save his sister. Unwavering, relentless, he will travel the whole of Scotland to bring her home safely. When sharp-tongued, strong willed, Leslie ends up on his venture, he’s soon torn between his commitments and her distracting presence. Passion flares.

Sparks fly. Truths are revealed. Only a sweeping journey into the rugged highlands will reveal if a modern day woman and a medieval Scotsman can see through promises made in, Vow of the Highlander.

Also Available - Mark of the Highlander (Book 1) and Vow of the Highlander (Book 2). Coming Soon- Wrath of the Highlander (Book 3), Faith of the Highlander (Book 4) and the final in the series, Plight of the Highlander (Book 5).

About the Author: Sky Purington is the best-selling author of nine novels and several novellas. A New Englander born and bred, Sky was raised hearing stories of folklore, myth and legend. When combined with a love for nature, romance and time-travel, elements from the stories of her youth found release in her books.

Purington loves to hear from readers and can be contacted at Sky@SkyPurington.com. Interested in keeping up with Sky's latest news and releases? Visit Sky's website, http://www.skypurington.com to download her free App on iTunes and Android or sign up for her quarterly newsletter.

Love social networking? Find Sky on Facebook and Twitter.

Website: www.skypurington.com Blog: www.skypurington.blogspot.com Twitter: www.twitter.com/skypurington Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Sky-Purington/260484263999780 Pinterest: www.pinterest.com/skypurington

What inspired you to become an author?

I started writing my first book in January 2009, after Joyce Durham lost her battle to colon cancer. I am good friends with her daughter, Erika, who was then faced with the very difficult task of learning how to deal with the loss of her mother. Witnessing her struggle and that of the Durham family, I wished there was someone who could visit with those who had passed over to the other side and bring back messages to the living, reassuring them that all was fine with their loved one. And from it, Magdalene Tanner was born. I went on to write FALLEN in just under two months, releasing it in March 2009.

Of all the characters you’ve ever written, who is your favorite and why?

Honestly, all of my heroines tie for first place. I know some of my fans will want to throw tomatoes at me for saying it, because the heroes are pretty wonderful too. Nonetheless, each of the heroines altruistically asserts themselves into dangerous situations to save others (numerous nameless, faceless others), while each brings to the fight a different set of abilities. Maggie (in Fallen) can contact her friends in the afterlife, Jocelyn (in Residue) can tap all sorts of kinetic powers, and Kennedy (in Haven) has been trained to be a covert Navy SEAL since birth. They're all fantastic, in my opinion.

Do you write in different genres?

I write for young adults, but fans who have written to me have been mothers raising their children, grandmothers, and even men in their 50s. While I'd like to claim it has to do with my writing, I think the reasoning is it doesn't matter who a book is targeted or written for. If the plot is gripping, the characters are intriguing, and the pace is stimulating, readers will generally like the book, regardless of the genre.

If this book is part of a series‌what is the next book? Any details you can share?

Actually, the next two books in the series (Eternity and Reckoning) have been released. In Eternity, Maggie believes that she is safe, and that her old enemies have disappeared. When one of them arrives in New Orleans with a dire threat, a battle is headed her way. She and her eternal guardian, Eran, have only a few days to prepare to fight the world's most evil creatures. As they do, she uncovers the truth behind her identity and why her enemies will never give up. Reckoning picks up where Eternity leaves off. Maggie is alone and on the run, unknown forces are conspiring against her, and she is in more danger than she has ever been before.

As Eran struggles to protect her, Maggie unwittingly sparks an epic battle that could separate her and Eran forever.

Is there anything you find particularly challenging in your writing?

Deadlines! I try to turn around a book every few months and that is most definitely a grueling schedule!

Do you have any advice for other writers?

If you have a story that you think others might enjoy reading, sit down and write. Revise it and write some more. 95% of what I write is deleted and rewritten. It's not about inspiration (other than that fleeting aha moment when the plot/characters lands in your mind), it's about persistence. Just keep writing, revising, and rewriting until you like what you have created.

When you’re not writing what do you do? Do you have any hobbies or guilty pleasures?

After each book, I take a month-long hiatus from writing to clear my mind and marinate over my next novel's details. During that time, and after 12-hour days in a dark room has taken its toll (yes, as admittedly odd as it is I shut all the blinds, doors, and write entirely by the light of my computer screen), I have a deep longing to see the sun and head for the harbor. There are two times in my life that I have felt totally and completely at peace… sitting on the edge of the Grand Canyon on a detour back from college and when I took the helm of a small sailboat (okay, it was more like a dinghy, but who's measuring?). For me, there's nothing better to recharge than getting outside, soaking up the sun, and breathing in non-air-conditioned air.

What is next for you? Do you have any scheduled upcoming releases or works in progress?

I am working on the prequels to the Guardian Trilogy (in which this novel, Fallen, is the first in the series). The first three books in the Guardian Trilogy tell how Maggie and Eran must unify others in defeating Abaddon, their archenemy. The next four books in the series (dubbed the Guardian Saga), in which I'm writing now, takes readers into the past to detail how the war began and how Maggie and Eran became infamous in their love for one another.

“I apologize for the delay, Abaddon.”

I turned my head to find Eran standing beside me, no more than a few inches away.

Excitement swelled inside me, so powerful I couldn’t have contained it if I’d wanted to. The nervousness now displayed on Abaddon’s face gave me even stronger encouragement.

I wanted so desperately to reach out and wrap my arms around Eran, wanted it more than anything in the world. My desperate yearning was only being held back because I still couldn’t move.

I’m not sure Eran would have allowed it anyways. He was a warrior, and he was now engaged in battle.

Besides, I was nothing more to him than someone to save.

Eran didn’t look my way but kept his focus on Abaddon, who stepped back a few paces, his confidence faltering.

It was Sarai who strolled forward, self-assured, placing herself in the middle.

As she strolled by Abaddon, she mused, “Don’t worry, I believe I can handle this one.” Her face curled up into a hideous grin as she continued her approach.

I knew then what she planned…but it was too late.

“Eran, so good to see you again…” she whispered in a low drawl.

“No!” I screamed enraged, waiting for Eran to fall to the ground, whimpering with desperation as Rufus had done.

Eran remained standing.

A moment passed and Sarai’s face contorted, confusion setting in. Her state of shock became more defined, deepening further when he finally replied.

“You don’t work on me, Sarai…” I watched in disbelief as his gorgeous smirk, the one I missed so deeply, rose up. Eran turned and his stunning eyes settled on me, concentrating so intently I could not have mistaken

his message. “I’m already in love.”

The world changed for me at that moment. As Eran’s confession hung in the air, I felt the passion and the power in me swell. Nothing was impossible now.

Sarai’s mouth fell open, a shaken sigh escaping. She then looked at me, her eyes narrowing in fury as Eran’s words sunk in.

Eran flippantly disregarded her, turning to address Abaddon. “You are outnumbered. You are overpowered. You have allowed yourself to be cornered. Shoddy work, Abaddon.”

As I watched their interaction, it dawned on me that Eran was enjoying this moment and that it appeared to have been long overdue. I felt a smile on my lips, nearly causing me to giggle.

It was then Abaddon released me. I fell to the ground, hitting it hard but overwhelmed with relief. I glanced up, wondering what power Eran had over Abaddon to give up his hold on me.

In an instant, I realized what had happened.

Abaddon had let me go willingly. He needed his energy – all of it – for another reason…

Leaning forward, Abaddon’s arms extended, his feet sweeping up from the ground, as he lunged for Eran.

Fallen Guardian Trilogy Book 1 Laury Falter Genre: Young Adult Fantasy Romance Publisher: Audeamus LLC Date of Publication: April 1, 2009

ISBN: 978-0-9855110-3-6 ASIN: B00280MFEY Number of pages: 274 pages Amazon Book Description: Fallen - the first book in the Guardian Trilogy...

Maggie is unaware of the terrifying fate that awaits her. It isn’t until she lands in New Orleans for a full year at a private high school and her unknown enemies find her does she realize that her life is in danger.

As a mystifying stranger repeatedly intervenes and blocks the attempts on her life, she begins to learn that there is more to him than his need to protect her and that he may be the key to understanding why her enemies have just now arrived.

About the Author:

Laury Falter is a bestselling author of young adult romantic suspense and urban fantasy. She has three series out: the Guardian Trilogy, the Residue Series, and the Apocalypse Chronicles.

Website: http://www.lauryfalter.com Twitter page: http://www.twitter.com/LauryFalter Facebook page: http://www.facebook.com/pages/Laury-Falter/196033543803745 Goodreads page: http://www.goodreads.com/lauryfalter

Rogue’s Paradise Covenant of Thorns Series Book Three Jeffe Kennedy Pregnant, possessed, and in love with a man I don’t dare to trust-those are the consequences of the risks I took to save my life. But Faerie, the land of blood and magic, is filled with bitter ironies, and the bargains I made now threaten me and my unborn child.

The darkly sensual fae noble Rogue still tempts me to danger and desire. As we await the birth of our child, I’ve been forced to question whether our offspring is part of a bargain Rogue once made to save himself. He can’t tell me the truth due to a spell the vicious Queen Titania has him under. Would he betray our family against his will? Could I ever forgive him if he does?

Rogue insists on an eternal commitment from me, even as Titania’s forces close in on us. I don’t know if Rogue and I can withstand her onslaught, or that of the beast within me. But I will not stop looking for answers-even if it brings the walls of Faerie crashing down.

About the Author: Jeffe Kennedy is an award-winning author with a writing career that spans decades. Her works include nonfiction, poetry, short fiction, and novels. She has been a Ucross Foundation Fellow, received the Wyoming Arts Council Fellowship for Poetry, and was awarded a Frank Nelson Doubleday Memorial Award. Her essays have appeared in many publications, including Redbook.

Her most recent works include a number of fiction series: the fantasy romance novels of A Covenant of Thorns; the contemporary BDSM novellas of the Facets of Passion, and an erotic contemporary serial novel, Master of the Opera, which released beginning January 2, 2014. A fourth series, the fantasy trilogy The Twelve Kingdoms, hit the shelves starting in May 2014 and a fifth, the highly anticipated erotic romance trilogy, Falling Under, will release starting in July.

She lives in Santa Fe, New Mexico, with two Maine coon cats, plentiful free-range lizards and a very handsome Doctor of Oriental Medicine.

Jeffe can be found online at her website: JeffeKennedy.com, every Sunday at the popular Word Whores blog, on Facebook, and pretty much constantly on Twitter @jeffekennedy. She is represented by Foreword Literary. http://www.jeffekennedy.com/ https://www.facebook.com/jeffe.kennedy

http://www.jeffekennedy.com/category/blog/ https://twitter.com/jeffekennedy

Excerpt: Lars Kinsvogel sucked in an annoyed breath. Anxiety and greed thickened the air in Monte Carlo’s Place de Casino, and he stifled a choking sound. Damn his hypersensitive shifter senses. If it weren’t for them, the desperation hovering around him wouldn’t be quite so palpable. Casinos were always like this, though, a haven for the rash and reckless. What had likely begun as a harmless pastime turned into hardcore addiction for an unfortunate few, forcing them to return again and again despite diminishing returns.

Hope springs eternal. All the poor sods need is one more spin of the wheel, another hand of cards… Lars looked up, right into the croupier’s beady gaze.

“Would monsieur like to place a bet?” The croupier grinned with all the warmth of a hammerhead shark, displaying a mouthful of bad teeth. What was it with the French and their aversion to dentistry? Lars shook his head and made shooing motions with one hand. He’d have to either join the baccarat game soon, or move on, but he could get away with loitering for a few more minutes without drawing undue attention to himself.

His target, a powerfully built man with Asian features revealing his half-Chinese ancestry, had an arm slung around a striking brunette. Maybe she was one of the hookers who worked the casino circuit, maybe she was a steady thing for the man. Lars considered it and decided she could be both. Around five feet eight, she had a lush, curvy body, hair cut into a stylish bob that fell a few inches past her shoulders, and memorable eyes the color of a restless ocean. A short, black sheath hugged her like a second skin. Open nearly to her waist, it displayed half her full breasts. Even though Lars’ appraisal was surreptitious, he forced his gaze elsewhere. The woman was sex incarnate, and he didn’t need anything diverting him from his objective.

Jaret Chen pressed chips into his companion’s hand and urged her to pick a number. He gave one of her breasts a familiar squeeze, which earned him a smile, perfectly rouged lips stretching over impossibly straight teeth—and a slight shake of her head. Color stained her tanned skin. Lars realized he was looking at the woman again, wondering how her breasts would feel beneath his fingers. She seemed uncomfortable with Jaret’s frank exploration of her body, so she probably wasn’t a pro. For some unexplained reason, Lars felt relieved. The woman was too elegant to earn her living lying on her back.

He snorted to himself and studied the flashing display above the baccarat table. Maybe the woman wasn’t French. That might explain her perfect teeth—and her discomfort with having her body mauled in public. At least she held Jaret’s attention. So far the drug dealer hadn’t spared him so much as a sidelong glance. Lars had never met the man, but knew a great deal about him from an extensive dossier provided by The Company, Lars’ international security employer. Deeply involved in the heroin trade from the Middle East, across the Mediterranean, and into Europe, Jaret was one of the principals in a large operation—and Lars’ current project.

He sized the man up. Maybe six feet, he had a barrel chest. Strongly muscled arms strained against the fabric of his cream-colored silk dress shirt. His art deco tie had been loosened. Dark eyes, pronounced cheek-

bones, and straight dark hair cut short blended with his business attire. For all intents and purposes, he was indistinguishable from the phalanx of wealthy—and wannabe wealthy—men circulating through the casino.

Lars glanced at his own cream-colored silk shirt and black linen pants. With the exception that his tie was still firmly knotted, he and Jaret were dressed as twins.

Guess neither of us wanted to stick out in anyone’s memory.

Lars glanced at his Rolex. Close to midnight and time to move on. He’d seen enough. Now it was a matter of figuring out where and when to strike. These things always went more smoothly when they were nearly invisible. He melted into the crowd and made his way outside. The casino fronted the French Riviera; Lars stood looking out at the Mediterranean for long moments. The water was quiet tonight, waves barely slapping the white sand beach. His cell phone, set on silent, vibrated against his hip, and he tugged it from a pocket to look at the display.

Private. Damn! Could be anyone.

Lars punched the answer icon, held the phone to his ear, and waited. No need to say anything until he knew who was on the other end.

“Are you somewhere you can talk?” Lars inhaled sharply as Garen LeRochefort’s voice came through the phone’s speaker. Another shifter, Garen had founded The Company hundreds of years ago. The mechanics of the spy game had changed drastically between the late seventeen hundreds and modern times, but the basics—kill or be killed—hadn’t altered much. Everyone who worked for The Company was some type of shifter. Lars’ animal form was a mountain lion, Garen’s a wolf.

Lars loped farther down the beach until he cleared several couples engaged in deep, hungry kisses.

“What has happened?” Something must have, or Garen wouldn’t have risked contact.

“You need to leave.”

“But I have not—” “Doesn’t matter,” Garen cut in. “I’ll explain when you’re back in the office on a fully scrambled line.”

Lars thought about his twin engine Piper Seneca waiting at the Nice airport, fifteen miles from Monte Carlo. It gave him freedom to come and go, and was much cheaper to operate than the business class jets he also owned. “Maybe I could still—”

“No!” The one word thundered so loud, Lars moved the phone away from his ear. “Don’t even go back to your room.” Garen hesitated. “Old friend. Trust me on this.” The line went dead.

Lars stared at the iPhone’s display and dropped the cellular device back into his pocket. He’d been compromised. He wasn’t certain quite how, and a part of him was curious as hell. He kept walking, swinging in a wide circle to head back toward the Hotel de Paris. Garen had said not to return to his room, but if he were careful, maybe he could learn something critical that would help their side.

“Ja, forewarned is forearmed,” he muttered. Keycard in hand, he let himself into a side door of the rambling old structure, got his bearings, and started cautiously up a stairwell. His suite was on the second floor, at the very end of the wing facing the Mediterranean. He’d always loved the old hotel with its thick, patterned carpets and antique lighting and furnishings. Staying next to the walls, he used a bit of shifter magic to cast a don’t look here spell. It wouldn’t keep someone determined from seeing him, but it didn’t require

much magic, either.

He entered the second floor a few doors from his own and scanned the empty hallway, his senses on high alert. Midnight was early in Monte Carlo, a city where people frequently stayed up through dawn and slept the day away, so he fully expected to see other guests, but the hall was mercifully empty. He padded silently toward his door and examined it, wishing he’d set a trap. He inhaled, trying to sort scents, but there were too many to make sense of. He could leave, just walk away like Garen had almost ordered him to, but Lars had never been a coward, and he was more intrigued than frightened. He’d spent years worming his way out of dicey situations.

This was just one more, and he was damned if he’d walk away from his things. Not unless he had to.

He took a deep breath, tugged his guaranteed-not-to-set-off-metal-detectors .32 caliber revolver from its ankle holster, and shoved the key card into the slot in the door. A tiny electric motor hummed and the deadbolt snicked out of the way. He turned the latch, kicked the door open, and turned from side to side scanning the sitting room of his suite, gun at the ready. Lars waited in the doorway, barely breathing, and then he heard a muted click, followed by an unmistakable whirr, and knew.

A bomb.

He cursed in German, not knowing if he was more annoyed with the turn of events or with himself for not taking Garen’s advice and getting the hell out of there.

Forever and a Day The Company Store Book 2 Ann Gimpel Publisher: Taliesin ISBN: 978-1-62916-065-8 Release Date: 7/3/14 Genre: Paranormal Romantic Suspense Word Count: 50,000 words

Espionage operations and runaway love travel halfway around the globe as Tamara and Lars stay one step ahead of death. Tension heats to boiling, but it’s not half as hot as the attraction licking at their heels.

Book Description: Tamara MacBride has a much bigger problem than hiding her shifter side from the world. By the skin of her teeth, and with a smattering of Irish luck, she manages to kill her sister’s murderer. Escaping from the scene of the crime is proving much harder than she anticipated. Just when she thinks she might be safe, her cab driver shrieks and slumps over the wheel. She cowers in the back seat, too scared to run, expecting the next bullet will be for her.

An unknown assailant terminates Lars Kinsvogel’s target. Pleased by the outcome, after all dead

is dead, Lars exchanges the glitz of Monto Carlo for a nearby airport intent on collecting the private plane he left there. He’s no sooner arrived when a cab jumps the curb. His instincts blare a warning, but Lars ignores them and trots over to investigate. There’s not much he can do for the cabbie, but his passenger is still very much alive—and absolutely stunning. It takes some tall talking, but she agrees to come with him.

Espionage operations and runaway love travel halfway around the globe as Tamara learns to accept her shifter side, and Lars embraces what’s been missing from his long life. Initially reticent to trust one another, it takes a series of crises and a near-fatal accident for them to take a chance on love—and each other.

Book Trailer: http://youtu.be/pYbEHtRor20 About the Author: Ann Gimpel is a clinical psychologist, with a Jungian bent. Avocations include mountaineering, skiing, wilderness photography and, of course, writing. A lifelong aficionado of the unusual, she began writing speculative fiction a few years ago. Since then her short fiction has appeared in a number of webzines and anthologies. Her longer books run the gamut from urban fantasy to paranormal romance. She’s published over 20 books to date, with several more contracted for 2014.

A husband, grown children, grandchildren and three wolf hybrids round out her family. www.anngimpel.com http://anngimpel.blogspot.com http://www.amazon.com/author/anngimpel

http://www.facebook.com/anngimpel.author

@AnnGimpel

Unleashed Excerpt from Falling Angels by Ami Blackwelder

Finally, it was Saturday morning. I had only managed four hours of sleep before I heard a knock on the front door, but since I had been eagerly waiting all summer to visit the Angelfire house again, I didn’t mind. Kian promised and I held him to his word. I practiced my gifts for three months and while most of the time, I crashed and burned, I really felt toward the end that I had grown into my own.

It was just two days before school would begin, and since I finished my summer training, Kian owed me a trip into the angel’s world. I’d wanted to get my hands on the books kept in the secret room; I’d been curious about those for a while and wondered whose pictures I would find. Who else in Manhattan would I discover as angel...or demon?

“Ali!” Mom shouted as she stomped up the stairs, “Kian is at the door.”

I rushed down to greet him before Mom made it to the top step. When I passed her mid-stairs, she gave me a disapproving look, a sharp glare propelling her pupils into the corners of her eyes.

“Got it, Mom.” I swung the door open and a smile beamed across my face from ear to ear. I couldn’t help it. No matter how often I saw him, seeing him again always felt like a rush, a rush of emotion I had been growing addicted to like a gambler in a casino.

“Are you heading out this morning?” Mom stepped onto the first floor and headed towards me.

“Yes, we have plans to meet up with Jennifer and Molly.”

“Where?”

“Just at the ice cream parlor down the block.”

“When will you be back?”

“Geez, Mom, twenty questions much?”

Mom wrapped her palm over my shoulder as Kian leaned forward with a confident disposition.

“Well, with everything we are hearing on the news, we can’t be too careful.” Worry lines creased her forehead. Kian and I glanced at each other.

The news reported people being mauled to death or simply missing. Numbers piled up and no one had solid answers. Pressure mounted on the local police, but Samuel and I knew better. Answers would not be easy. The news could label these incidents as the results of a serial killer or a local gang, but we knew demons had been at work. Fanged and Were demons led by Dameon and Azrael.

“I know. I’m sorry for snapping. Probably late afternoon. I’ll call you.”

“Okay, just don’t forget to call in the afternoon or I’ll have to send your brother to fetch you.”

Mom kissed my cheek and I gritted my teeth. Her doting affections reminded me of when I entered elementary school and she would wait at the bus stop for me to make sure I had safely gotten on the bus. Of course, before stepping onto my yellow educational chariot, she’d peck my cheek with a kiss.

“I will.” Kian gripped my hand with his palm. Our fingers interlaced and I waved bye to Mom with my other hand as we stepped onto the sidewalk.

“And don’t do anything more to your hair. Getting used to you as a blonde is hard enough.”

“I won’t.” Now, it was my turn to glare.

“Still don’t understand why you had to change your beautiful chocolate hair color.” She shook her head as she closed the door.

“She’s just worried about you.” Kian drew his face so close to me that I could feel stubble on his chin.

“I know, and I love her for that, but at the same time, I want my freedom, and I forget she is in the dark about a lot. If Mom only knew the half of it, she’d keep me locked up in my room for good.”

Plus, I hated lying to Mom. I hated lying period, but I couldn’t very well tell her what I was really going to be doing.

Kian grew serious, “And Samuel? Have you talked to him about staying inconspicuous?”

“Yes, I told him several times about not drawing attention to himself, because we don’t want to attract Dameon to him...or me, but...”

“But what?” Kian stopped mid-step.

“He’s a cop, and with people going missing and others found dead, he doesn’t have the patience to just sit back and wait for Angelfire to clean up the mess. He’s leading two teams to solve those crimes.”

“But will he stay out of the crux of the mess?” Kian’s brows slanted inward. “Stay indoors, just keep to the paperwork?”

“I doubt it.” I watched Kian’s worry lines furrow as the morning glow of the early sun hung behind us and glistened over his soft skin.

“But you told him how dangerous Dameon can be? How he would kill Samuel at any given chance?” Kian sounded as if he had years of street smarts.

“Yes, of course I did, but Samuel is stubborn.” The cell in my back pocket vibrated and I pulled out the phone.

“Who is it?” Kian inched closer.

“Mom. She texted, Love you and hear from you soon.”

We continued walking until we reached the ice cream parlor. Music set to the fifties permeated the space. “Just make sure you let me know every move Samuel makes. We need to be there in case Dameon shows up,” Kian insisted.

“I will.” I lifted the phone in the air and snuggled close to Kian, “Ready?”

“Sure.”

I snapped a photo of us in front of the ice cream sign and then another one of us sitting in the booth.

“Do you think two will be enough to fool Mom?”

“You know her better than I do. What do you think?” he responded.

“I think she will wonder why Jennifer and Molly aren’t in these pictures.”

“Because we arrived before them and once they got here, we started talking and eating and you forgot.” Kian sounded like a guy who had gotten himself out of plenty of shady situations.

“I guess we’re ready then?” I gleamed in delight at the thought of seeing the Angelfire house again.

We slipped behind the ice cream parlor and into the empty alley. Our angelic wings sprawled across the air, flapped a few times and then we took off into the sky. I could get used to this.

Like two Sandhill Cranes with sizable wings and perhaps some angelic DNA linked to some ancient existence, we flew from my neighborhood to Eagle Lake where the Angelfire mansion was situated. As much as I had flown the past three months, I still got a bit queasy when I looked down and saw the city from a sky view. Something about minuscule cars and houses felt unnatural and made me feel like a giant and so I kept my eyes on Kian.

We landed behind the mansion where we always entered to avoid being seen out front. As Kian pulled open the iron door, I took in a deep breath, because my feet found land and soon I would be seeing my old home again.

As Kian pushed the large frame, the thick door squeaked. The smell of rusty iron rushed past me as we walked up the spiral staircase. I noticed we never used the first floor and I figured it had something

to do with keeping a low profile and staying unseen. The first floor had many more windows.

As we walked up the staircase, I peeked over the railing and the light of the day crept over the bare first floor. Empty of furnishings except for a few boxes, the space seemed much more like a storage unit.

“Why don’t you ever show me down there?” I pointed downward.

“Nothing to show. Sammael doesn’t like anyone sleeping on the first floor…or dining there much. But sometimes we eat in the kitchen downstairs.”

“Why doesn’t he like anyone staying there?” I stopped on the stairs and stared at Kian’s back as he took steps forward.

“Because he feels too vulnerable on the first floor…because,” he hesitated, finding words, “in his mansion in Washington, his wife Ariel died on the first floor after an attack from demons. Azrael was there, briefly. Sammael only saw his back. After Azrael threw a stake into her chest, he vanished into the sky. Sammael couldn’t chase him and be with Ariel at the same time. So, he chose Ariel. She died in his arms. He couldn’t save her.”

“Oh, my God.” I didn’t know what else to say.

“Since then, we all sleep on the second floor and he never eats on the first floor.”

The first room looked much as I remembered with only a few paintings from Van Gogh and Gustav Glimt hanging on the walls. Statues were in each corner and a piano in the center. Yep, still the same.

I slid to the door, which led me to the crimson room, the library. I saw the mahogany door where we once trained, the last room I entered my junior year at Millennium High. Kian called it the Angelfire training room. Now, as a senior and as an angel, I expected I would be allowed to see a bit more.

Maybe behind the doors next to the training room or the door on the left wall or right wall?

I scurried to the bookcase on the right wall and pulled out the black bound book which once before had revealed so many strange images. My fingers fiddled with the pages of Azrael and Dameon.

Their pictures seemed so different to me now. I saw them more clearly than I ever had as a human. In angel form, I became aware and in tune to the power shifts, tugs and pushes of this underworld.

Their evil energy pulsated through my fingers as I felt their image.

I noticed a black door on the right wall near the bookcase and heard loud thumps like bodies being thrown around.

“What is going on in there?”

“Just our angel fledgling room.” The confused motion of my brows asked Kian to explain.

“Where we keep rooms for the new angel arrivals to sleep and train.”

“Different from the Angelfire training room?”

“Yeah, the Angelfire room is for the experienced angels. The fledgling room is just for the newbies.”

“Will they fight with us, against Dameon I mean?”

“No, they are strictly housebound angels. Don’t know if you’ll even see their faces. Until they get strong enough in their powers, Sammael doesn’t want them out on the streets.”

“But I’m out on the streets with you.”

“That’s because you’re a human turned angel by Nathaniel’s death, and because you’re too involved in the situation with Dameon and saving your brother to be locked away somewhere for safe keeping.

The angel fledglings were born angels. They just didn’t know it until recently. Like me, they didn’t find their gift till sixteen. More importantly,” his face grew serious, “we need to get to them and keep them on our side, because fledglings have a danger of turning into Dark Angels.”

Then the white door on the left wall thrust open and a head of waist-length blonde curls bounced up to the center of the empty room.

“Ali!” Krysta shouted with enthusiasm as Kian watched the spectacle from the far wall.

“Krysta?” I hadn’t expected to see her anytime soon. I prepared myself mentally for seeing her at school, but it hadn’t occurred to me that I would see her here, now. But of course I would, I mean she is an angel too. I braced myself. “How are you doing?”

“Good, considering.” She half grinned and the spring in her step turned into a stomp. I felt her twist of emotions toward me. My angel form amplified everything.

On the one hand, she had a kinship with me, an old familiar face. On the other hand, I had been an unwelcome human in her fold, and a presence which had resulted in Nathaniel’s death. In a way, I guess she still blamed me.

The room felt emptier without him here.

“Busy over the summer?” Small talk rambled from my mouth, and curiosity tugged on me. I mean, what had she been doing the last three months? She certainly hadn’t hung out with me. Maybe by now, her fumes had cooled over my presence with Angelfire?

“Busy, sure. If you call keeping your eyes on Azrael’s army busy...then yes. I’d call it a few near death experiences, but to each his own.”

I guess not. Her anger reminded me of a fire embers, the kind that grows with every violent breath.

“Are you alright?” I dropped the black book to the shelf and ambled toward Krysta whose wings looked as magnificent as ever. She had a way of always appearing clean and crisp.

However, after she pulled up her long sleeved shirt and rolled up her jeans, scars on her skin became hauntingly visible. Kian darted to her side and scrutinized the abrasions with careful amber eyes.

“What happened?” His voice grew scratchy.

“You don’t want to know, Kian.”

“Did Dameon do this?” Kian sounded furious. I’d never seen him this way. His usual bronze complexion flushed hot red and his hands trembled in fury.

“No,” Krysta lowered her head, unable to look Kian in the eyes. Instead, she glanced up at me and I felt odd.

“Then who? Azrael’s newborn army?”

“No,” Krysta took a step away from Kian, her body language very defensive.

Kian’s brows made a hard slant inward and then his lips puffed. “Who, Krysta? I’ll kill ‘em.”

Her lips sealed shut. I could feel the grind on her lips. She closed them so tightly, as if any air from them might let a secret slip. Kian placed his palm on her shoulder from behind and whispered, “Who?”

“I can’t tell you.” Krysta’s pleading eyes met mine and I reached out for her as my own curiosity spun. My hands touched hers and then I pulled her into my chest. I’m not sure exactly how she ended up being comforted by me of all people...but I consoled her. I held her for about a minute before she pulled away and regained her composure.

“I need to know.” Kian’s breath traveled from the center of the room to the bookcase where we stood.

Krysta shook her head and then said the name like something shameful she didn’t want to say too loud, “Dumah.”

Kian froze in his step which had been gradually making its way to Krysta. His complexion went from fiery red to pale white as if he had just seen a ghost. His eyes glossed over as if memories had taken hold of him and dragged him to a distant place.

“Kian?” I called to him, but he didn’t respond. “Kian?”

Krysta marched up and shook him until his eyes finally met with hers again. “Are you okay?”

“She’s still alive...after a year of not hearing from her,” Kian said to no one in particular.

“Yes, she’s alive.”

“Who is Dumah?” I almost didn’t want to say the name aloud, the eerie feeling from its first mention still hung in the air like a bad odor.

Krysta turned to me, and her glare felt like a sunburn, but Kian brushed past her mumbling, “It’s okay. She has a right to know too.”

I couldn’t help letting my mind wander, jumping into possibilities of an old girlfriend, an old rival, and even, however unlikely, a human like Lucianda who happened to know of the angel world too.

However, nothing could have prepared me for the truth.

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Krysta biting her lip as Kian clutched my shoulders with his palms and then met my curious eyes. “As you know, when I was younger, I lived in the orphanage. The caregivers took care of me, often beating me with a rod. I guess I got into more trouble than they wanted. What I didn’t tell you, I kept from you to protect you.”

My ears honed in on his voice, “What didn’t you tell me?”

“They moved me around a lot. A foster home here and a foster home there. They tried to keep families together,” he stared at me with intensity, “Foster homes took in both me and Dumah, but we didn’t last long anywhere.

Dumah had a restless spirit and the minute we settled, she’d find her way into her new parent’s wallet or catch fire to the kitchen towels. I have to admit, I often joined in on the antics. But we eventually found ourselves runaways at twelve.”

I nearly fainted as I took in all this information. “Dumah is your sister?”

“My twin sister,” Kian clarified. “We didn’t much like the rules our foster families gave us, so we fended for ourselves on the streets of Manhattan. For four years, we rummaged through garbage, begged, stole, anything to survive. We had a few close calls with some shady characters.”

Then Kian looked off to the lone window behind me. His eyes searched the clouds in the sky. “What happened?”

“At sixteen, everything changed. My hands began to get ice cold. Dumah began to move objects with her mind.”

“Objects?” I needed an explanation. I knew angels had natural gifts, but telekinesis seemed like an unfair power given to any one person.

“Not all objects, but anything made of wood. She developed some sort of ability over the natural environment. She started moving tree branches while we hung out in the park as I sprouted ice from my palms. We didn’t know what was happening to us.” Kian looked at the floor, his eyes reddened and his throat grew too painful to swallow.

“So, the two of you developed your angel gifts?”

“Yes, but then...” a lump sank in his throat and a tear slid down his cheek.

I took his hand and caressed his soft fingers before Kian finished his story.

“One weekend, while we waited for Jimmy the dishwasher to give us a bag of the unused breads in the back alley of the restaurant, a local gang called Loco staggered half-drunk up to us.

One of the guys tried to put his hands on Dumah and she slapped him. I threw my palms up to shoot ice at all of them, but I had little control over my powers at sixteen and didn’t even understand them. Then someone from behind gripped my wrists, tied a thick rope around them and then knocked me to my knees. Within seconds, my feet were bound and I had a black eye.

Out of my other eye, I saw the man with his hands on Dumah and he pushed her up against the wall. A few of the fellows cheered him on as I struggled to get back up, but each time I managed to get an elbow to the floor, someone from behind would hammer me back down.

After a few minutes, the man dragged Dumah further into the alley until I could no longer see her.

I could only hear her, screaming.”

My eyes must have looked of dread as I listened to the story. Kian’s face flushed deathly white with a few tears streaming over his cheeks.

“I screamed for her and fought the man on top of me, but he was too heavy. I couldn’t get out from under him. Then silence. I didn’t hear Dumah screaming anymore and then the gang disappeared. When I could, I ran to her. I found her curled in a ball on the ground. We didn’t move until dusk, but even then, Dumah didn’t speak to me.

That morning, we bumped into a young man about our age wearing a black leather jacket with just one red stripe.”

“Dameon?”

“Yes. He whispered something to her and she followed him. I warned her not to go, but she wouldn’t listen. She yelled something about me not being there to protect her and so she didn’t want to see me anymore. She disappeared with him and I haven’t seen her since.

Later, Sammael found me and I lived with him. When Dameon appeared at Millennium High and Sammael revealed Dameon’s true identity to me, I figured Dumah had become one more on a long list of his victims, which made me even more determined to save you from him.”

“But she’s not dead?” I posed the question with a stare at Krysta, who now stood several feet to the side of Kian.

“No, she’s not and worse, she is a Dark Angel.”

The Stairs to your Room Claire Fullerton

On the stairs to your room I knew I'd dreamed this before: white candles in wrought iron told of a bedside manner, a trip back in time then foreshadow, a return to grace, and ah

the austerity, the subtlety of your face

This is but a reckoning telling me I'm alive and this is the wellspring of hope lurid in the virtues of your eyes.

This time I'll beg you an outlet; for I am haunted by your half-light and

I'll study this til the sun sets and dream of the stairs to your room tread upon by countless shadows and all entrances that lead to you

v dreams I give you no obstruction, for I know there's simplicity in this, by day I struggle the translation

but I'm trying to see to it

Because there's something about you all-knowing, know then this to be true: I've suffered a lifetime of groundwork that has led to the stairs to your room.

Keeping the Faith

By Claire Fullerton Years ago, I wrote a novel set on the west coast of Ireland about a twenty-five year old American female who moved from Los Angeles into a rural, Irish village. It was a fish-out-of water story filled with insightful narrative concerning Irish cultural nuances that also contained a budding love story. I adored the story I created, lived with the characters and the sense of place in my head for close to two years then decided to look for an agent.

No avail. Forever.

Then it hit me: I’m an unknown author and I need to find my proverbial open door that will grant me permission to keep writing! I decided to park what I called “my Irish book” and sat down to write the kind of novel I would really love to read: one that would be unusual, a suspenseful page turner that would be unpredictable and keep the reader guessing.

I wanted to write the novel that defied genre and give readers something to really think about when they finished the book. I wanted to write more than a good story, I wanted to hand readers a question with which they could consider their own life without the book being pushy or overt. I put every ounce of my creative imagination into the novel, and titled it, “A Portal in Time.”

Next, I looked for a publisher who would understand the vision, and found it in Vinspire Publishing. Behold my open door! Everything I could hope for, I found in Vinspire, and joining its ranks is like joining a team that does things for all the right reasons. The learning curve I have enjoyed: the support, editing phase, the promotional education, has been invaluable, and I was so pleased, I decided to rewrite my Irish book ONE MORE TIME and humbly submit it to my new publishing home.

Then I waited patiently. Three months later, I was offered a contract by Vinspire, and my Irish book, now entitled, “Dancing to an Irish Reel” will be out in early 2015.

All of this goes to show that each writer has their own unique path to their open door, and the task is to never give up hope and keep writing.

A Portal in Time Claire Fullerton Genre: Paranormal/Historical Romance

Publisher: Vinspire Publishing Date of Publication: November 30, 2013 ISBN:0989063224 ASIN: Number of pages: 192 Word Count: 50,000 Cover Artist: Elaina Lee/For the Muse Designs Book Description: When we are inexplicably drawn to love and a particular place, is it coincidence, or have we loved before?

Enigmatic and spirited Anna Lucera is gifted with an uncanny sixth-sense and is intrigued by all things mystical. When her green, cat-eyes and long, black hair capture the attention of a young lawyer named Kevin Townsend, a romance ensues which leads them to the hauntingly beautiful region of California's Carmel-ByThe-Sea where Anna is intuitively drawn to the Madiera Hotel. Everything about the hotel and Carmel-By-The-Sea heightens her senses and speaks to Anna as if she had been there before.

As Anna's memory unravels the puzzle, she is drawn into a past that's eerily familiar and a life she just may have lived before.

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Excerpt: Chapter Ten March 18, 1999, West Hollywood, California “What’s this all about?” Lucia pulled out a chair across from her sister. They sat outside on the sidewalk in front of The King’s Head Café in West Hollywood amidst the hum of traffic and the flow of patrons looking for available seating on Beverly Boulevard. “You sounded funny on the phone.”

“I sounded funny?”

“You sounded mysterious,” Lucia clarified.

“I didn’t want to get into it on the phone. I thought I’d wait to talk to you in person.”

“All right, I’m listening,” Lucia settled back into her chair and looked at Anna expectantly.

“You’re not going to believe this, but Kevin brought up the subject of marriage the other day.”

“Why wouldn’t I believe that? It’s perfectly understandable to me, isn’t it to you?” Lucia laughed.

“What did you say when he brought up the subject?”

“I skirted the issue, of course,” Anna’s tone suggested Lucia should know that.

“Wait a minute, did he just bring up the subject or did he ask you to marry him?”

“Well, it seemed to me he was testing the waters, but what he said was, ‘God help me, I’m married to a witch.’ I’m not sure I was supposed to hear it, but that’s exactly what he said,” Anna told her.

“Wait a minute, back up, I’m getting lost. Were you doing something that made him call you a witch or was he just making a general observation because he’s had enough time to realize that you are a little touched in that way?”

“In what way?” Anna sounded defensive.

“Come on, Anna, anyone who knows you knows you’re bent towards the uncanny, and I mean that with nothing but love,” Lucia tried to suppress a smile. “You’re the same way that Mom was—obviously these things run in families.”

Anna felt the immediate tug of her heartstrings at the mention of their mother, who had died of Leukemia two and a half years earlier. Her illness had been a harrowing experience to both her and Lucia, absolutely draining them emotionally for the two years prior to her death. Her slow decline compounded the loss of their father when they were only teenagers and now that both parents were gone, Anna and Lucia only had each other. Anna conjured the memory of their mother’s face, her tall elegance and demure ways and recalled that she, too, had an intuitive ability that everyone who knew her remarked upon.

“I don’t know that I’m anywhere near the way Mom was,” Anna leaned back. “Do you remember how she always knew what we were up to when we were little? There was no point in ever trying to fool her about anything because she always knew the truth.”

“Of course, you’ve always been a terrible liar. Everything you’re thinking is always written on your face. You were the one who always gave us away to Mom, not me,” Lucia reminded.

“That’s not entirely true,” Anna volleyed, “I remember the time you tried to sneak out the upstairs window at night and found Mom sitting on the garden bench under the tree you used because she’d picked up on what you were thinking practically before you even decided to do it. She could just tell by looking at you!”

“You’re right about that,” Lucia nodded. “Mom was something else altogether, wasn’t she? I’m convinced she was clairvoyant. I think she knew how to read us both. I really do miss her every day. I think of her every time I see a sunset, every time I feel the change of seasons in the air, every time I see the full moon. She made such an event out of the little things in life, didn’t she?”

“She definitely did. She placed great importance on ceremonies and symbolism and things like that,” Anna said. “I see so many things the same way she did because she taught us how.”

“I do, too. What she did to the exact spot where Dad got in his car wreck is a perfect example.”

“Well, a lot of people do a similar thing. I see markers on the side of the road all the time. Standing crosses with bouquets of flowers under them at the scene of a fatal accident. It’s a commemoration of a particular place where something significant happened.”

“Yes, but it was so much more to Mom than that,” Lucia reminded Anna. “That’s why she buried the key where Dad got in the accident. Do you recall that night? It was only two days after Dad died, but somehow Mom managed to set aside her grief in order to take care of business. She woke us up after midnight and told us to get in the car because we were going to conduct a ceremony. “

About the Author:

Claire Fullerton is the author of Paranormal/Historical Romance, “A Portal in Time.” Her second novel, “Dancing to an Irish Reel,” set in Connemara, Ireland, will be published in March, 2015. Claire is a contributor to numerous magazines as well as a multiple contributor to the “Chicken Soup for the Soul” book series. She is a multiple award winning essayist, a former major-market radio disc jockey, and an avid ballet dancer. Claire hails from Memphis, Tennessee, and currently divides her time between Malibu and Carmel, California with her husband and two German shepherds!

http://www.clairefullerton.com https://www.facebook.com/pages/A-Portal-in-Time/652046314828696 https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7388895.Claire_Fullerton @cfullerton3 https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7388895.Claire_Fullerton/blog https://plus.google.com/101078322415974380691/posts https://plus.google.com/b/115854375907460158477/115854375907460158477/posts

My heart slams against my breastbone, and the cup and saucer I’m carrying begin to rattle. I don’t wait for Francine to shoo me away before I make my exit. It seems a lot longer than last night since I’ve seen him. All of him. And my mouth goes dry with the memories.

Adam smiles at me, and the room shrinks to just me and him. His hair is lightly tousled from the cold winter wind, and I want to use to my fingers to smooth it into place. Then I want to use them for so much more.

My knees shake, and Francine gives me a little shove. I don’t even realize she’s exited the kitchen. “Well, stop standing there like you ain’t got no sense, and go say hello to him. I’ll take care of your other customers.”

“Sure you will. Just like you’re taking care of your own,” Art mutters.

My feet refuse to cooperate, and I remain rooted to the spot. Adam’s legs work just fine so he comes to me.

Morning.” His voice is low, meant for my ears only. He makes a good morning greeting sound sexy as hell.

It sounds more like an “I want to see you naked again”.

“Good morning.” I set the cup and saucer down then immediately regret it because I can’t find anything to do with my hands. Can he see how nervous I am? It’s ridiculous considering how intimately we know one another now.

While he stands there still smiling at me, I finally find my voice, though what comes out isn’t what I’d planned. “You want some coffee?”

His gaze drops to my lips. “That’ll do for now.”

Oh, hell. I wish I hadn’t made the offer because my legs still aren’t responding to my brain’s commands. I take a deep breath which is a mistake because I draw the scent of his aftershave in. The spicy aroma wraps itself around me like a warm blanket, and before I can stop myself, I’m leaning toward him. Heat radiates off of him, and I’m seconds away from flinging myself into his arms when Francine comes to my rescue again.

“Emily, why don’t you show Adam that new fryer Art just got? I’m sure he’ll be real interested in it.” She jostles me with her elbow, forcing my feet to move.

Grateful for the interruption, I take a step backwards, silently congratulating myself on moving. “It’s back here,” I whisper then blush. Like he doesn’t know where a fryer would be located.

Still grinning, Adam allows me to lead the way. Art looks our way when we invade his kitchen, but we don’t hang around long. Seconds out the back door, I’m in Adam’s arms, and he’s kissing me like he hasn’t seen me in a week.

Connecting Strangers Discovering Emily Series Book 1 Rachel Carrington Genre: Romantic Suspense Date of Publication: July 21, 2014 ISBN: ASIN: Word Count: ~67,000 Cover Artist: Elaina Lee of For the Muse Designs Book Description: Getting close is dangerous…

He’s too close, and I start to fidget, needing to keep my hands busy so they won’t grab hold of his shirt. Because that’s what they want to do. Draw him closer. So I can Inhale his scent. Taste his skin.

I didn’t run because I was in an abusive relationship; I ran because my soul was being crushed. I’d forgotten how to live, how to be happy. Running out of gas in a small town, I catch the eye of the local sheriff when the very last thing I want is to come under the scrutiny of the police. I left my boyfriend with blood on my hands, and I know as soon as the wound heals he’ll come looking for me.

Adam Madison draws me to him so easily I can’t even pretend to fight. And the closer we get, the more combustible we become. I’ve never experienced such passion or power. My need is as great as his, but I’m sure he’ll walk away from me once he knows my secret. No other man would stay.

I’ve had enough complications in my life. I’m not looking for more, and that’s exactly what Adam is—a sexy, magnetic complication with secrets of his own. And with my ex on the hunt, I can’t risk bringing him down with me. But he won’t leave…even when vengeance could kill us both.

My website: http://www.rachelcarrington.com Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/rcarrington2004 Facebook: www.facebook.com/authorrachelcarrington Pinterest: www.pinterest.com/rcarrington2004 Goodreads: www.goodreads.com/rcarrington2004 Wattpad: http://wattpad.com/RachelCarrington

“See, that’s the difference between demons and vamps. No honor, here.”

I stuttered a laugh. “Demons do not have honor.” I paused. “You have honor. You just don’t want to admit it.”

“Does an honorable vampire lust after the woman his friend desires, but can’t have?”

I laughed, taking his words as typical alpha supe flirtation, but when I looked at his face, my laughter stilled. He wasn’t joking. I dropped my gaze to the deck, and he returned to messing with the sails.

His admission had tainted our breezy conversation, and a salty awkwardness layered the air between us for the rest of the cruise. When Ewan had stumbled upon Lysander comforting me after my encounter with Dominic, I had to lie to him. Of course, that led him to imagine a much worse scenario than the actual truth, which I couldn’t reveal. Now a new, more insurmountable obstacle divided Ewan and me, but the episode with Lysander was almost more unacceptable to Ewan because I’d caused it. And now, Ewan had written our relationship off, and I was sailing in the moonlight on a boat captained by a hot vampire, who used to be a pirate, and who had given me the occasional glimpse into a passion and vulnerability that would be increasingly hard to resist. I was screwed.

We cruised into the Oakland Inner Harbor, heading for the Alameda Marina. He pulled up next to a catamaran and docked the boat. We disembarked and traversed the wooden dock, heading for one of the new oyster bars that signaled the revitalization of the once-industrial area. I clutched my scarf against the chilly air creeping along the waterfront. The nearly-full moon projected an incandescent glow onto the water, providing the only light to dispel the thickening darkness. We left the dock and took a dirt path intersecting a concrete sea wall on our left and a string of warehouses on our right. The only sound came from the water slapping against the sea wall. I darted my eyes around us and sidled closer to Lysander. The shadows lengthened, seeming to nip at my heels as we walked. Shadows didn’t have malevolent intent, did they? These seemed to crouch, ready to pounce; Seemed to whisper, “Come . . .”

Lysander gave me a reassuring look, obviously perceiving my nervousness. The lights of the bar about fifty feet ahead became visible, and I shook off my anxiousness. I was with a fricking vampire who used to be a pirate.

Lysander stumbled.

“Not very smooth for a vampire,” I said with a laugh.

He didn’t laugh back. His only response was to stop suddenly and groan. I moved to face him and recoiled at the sight of his face illuminated by the moonlight. “What the hell? You’re turning all Nosferatu on me. I liked the movie and all, but it’s not a look that works for you.”

When he met my eyes, and I saw his confusion and desperation, I realized this wasn’t some normal vampire transformation. His skin was shriveling in sick slow motion before me, prune-like, turning to the color of ash and flaking away as if burning from the inside out. “Oh, Christ. Lysander, what’s happening?”

“I don’t know,” he managed to croak from a throat that was shrinking upon itself.

Whispers, real now, louder, drifted toward us from the shadows clinging to the spaces between the warehouses. No. I’m not going crazy. Someone is out there. “Who’s there? Son of a bitch. Show yourself!”

A soft laugh answered me.

Fuck this. I turned toward the warehouses, but a tug on my pants stopped me. “ Blood,” Lysander rasped.

“Where . . . oh.” He meant my blood. “We can’t.”

“I’m dying.” His voice sounded as shriveled as he looked. His skin was no more than a thin layer of plastic shrink-wrapped around protruding bones.

I slapped my head with my palm. Oh God. Oh God. I can’t do this. I wasn’t worried about transforming into a bloodsucker. I knew it took much more than a few blood exchanges to turn someone. My fear came from my own power. Like with Dominic’s lieutenant, the necromancy could taint the blood connection and turn Ly into a zombie. I took another look at him and dispelled my fear. He was dying. Maybe he was stronger than Dominic’s lieutenant. Maybe his blood would resist my power. Please.

I squatted next to him, held out my wrist, and squeezed my eyes, not sure what to expect. Getting sucked on by a vampire was supposed to feel better than ecstasy—that’s why so many people frequented the vampire club—but when the lieutenant had sucked my blood, his fangs had felt like hot pokers ramming into my neck.

Lysander jerked his fangs into my wrist, and I cried out. Okay. No pleasure here. His fangs shook, like he needed his fix bad. He tore at my skin with sloppy slurps. I gritted my teeth at the pain that scorched my wrist.

My arm shook, but he held tight and sucked. I didn’t even know if this would work. I didn’t want him to die, but what would I do if he transformed into a zombie? I felt my power murmur inside me, unhappy at the intrusion, but I stamped it down, hopefully before it could taint the blood.

Lysander pulled off my wrist. The force of the movement caused me to fall back on my ass. The air and ground spun around me, and I fought off the nausea with deep breaths. The moonlight slashed across Lysander’s profile, and I sighed, relieved at the pale, vampire tone of his wonderfully tight and unshriveled skin. I reached out my hand, trembling violently, and touched his shoulder. He twisted his head, and I recoiled, seeing the same emptiness in his eyes that the lieutenant had reflected when he’d drunk my blood.

No. No. No. The Necromancer’s Betrayal The Necromancer Series Book 2 Mimi Sebastian Genre: Urban Fantasy/Paranormal Romance Publisher: ImaJinn/Belle Books ISBN: 978-1611945119 ASIN: Number of pages: 226 Cover Artist: Debra Dixon Book Description: Her powers have been hobbled. Her enemies are growing stronger.

Old loves challenge her. And her worst betrayer may be herself.

Necromancer Ruby Montagne is battling for her life in the realm of demons. Unfairly branded for the death of a fellow necromancer, she’s got to prove her innocence without the full use of her magic. And the real culprit is still on

the loose.

While someone is stalking her friends among the witches, Ruby searches for answers inside the dark intrigues of both the demon and necromancer worlds. Ruby must confront this new, sinister threat while reconciling her feelings for her former lover, a demon warrior. Only it’s difficult . . . because a sexy vampire is making it clear that he’d like to be a lot more than just friends.

The competition for Ruby’s trust heats up as the enemy pushes her toward a dark side that could threaten the entire realm. Yet what can Ruby do when she’s not even sure what she is? With the fabric separating the realms at stake, she must decide whom to trust. But will the ultimate betrayal be her own?

Available at Amazon About the Author:

Mimi Sebastian raised herself on books and the strange and unusual, and an unhealthy dose of comics and movies. When a career as a punk guitarist failed to materialize, she completed her degree in urban planning, spent two years in the Ivory Coast with the Peace Corps, and another three years in Brazil. By day, she debates the merits of transport oriented development, by night she writes about necromancers and pirates. She’s convinced she could live off coffee, ice cream, and comic books, but is sure only one of those is good for her health.

She's a member of Romance Writers of America and the Fantasy, Futuristic and Paranormal chapter of RWA. A transplant from the beaches of Florida, Mimi now wanders the desert in Phoenix, AZ, and attempts to balance writing with a day career, fantastic family, and household diva: her Amazon parrot. www.mimisebastian.com https://www.facebook.com/NecromancerSeriesMimiSebastianAuthor https://twitter.com/SebastianMimi http://www.goodreads.com/user/show/13508578-mimi-sebastian

Interview with Normandie Alleman What inspired you to become an author?

I became an author almost by accident. I was a non-fiction blogger, and I wrote a steamy scene for my husband who was in Iraq at the time. He told me he liked it better than my other writing, and not just because it was about sex. After I got over being slightly offended, I wrote more and my first submissions got published.

Do you have a specific writing style?

I’m not sure, but I love dialogue and quirky characters.

Do you write in different genres?

I only write erotic romance, but I write both contemporary and historical.

If yes which is your favorite genre to write?

I like historical better, but I think the rest of the world prefers contemporary.

How did you come up with the title for your latest book?

My husband actually came up with the title for “Daddy’s Game”, which I think is brilliant considering the subject matter.

Do you title the book first or wait until after it’s complete?

The title is usually conceived at the same time I am coming up with the plots and characters for my book, though occasionally a title eludes me.

Is there a message in your novel that you want readers to grasp?

That BDSM can have a softer side and it doesn’t always need to take place in a dungeon.

Is the book, characters, or any scenes based on a true life experience, someone you know, or events in your own life?

Yes, Natron’s injury is similar to the career-ending one my husband sustained while playing football. But my husband was forty when his occurred, and Natron is almost twenty years younger which makes his ability to heal superior.

Is there a genre(s) that you’d like to write that you haven’t tackled yet?

Yes, I love tragedies. One day I’ll write some love stories that have a lot more sadness in them, but for now I’m happy with my kinky romance stories with the HEA. Of all the characters you’ve ever written, who is your favorite and why?

I do love Natron in Daddy’s Game. He was super fun to write, and Charmaine (from the Daddy’s Girl series and the main character in the upcoming third book) is my favorite female. But my heart belongs to Gaston, the pirate from Rescued by the Buccaneer and the upcoming Bound by the Buccaneer. He’s a charming risk-taker who has the world by the tail until his love for Frederica brings him to his knees. What can I say? I love that sexy swashbuckler!

If this book is part of a series…what is the next book? Any details you can share?

Yes, Daddy’s Game is book two in the Daddy’s Girl Series, and I’m currently working on the third book which will be released this Fall. The third book (Title is a secret for now) is Charmaine’s story. I will give you a hint – the firefighter Charmaine meets in Daddy’s Game will play a big role in the next book.

What book are you reading now?

I’m listening to The House at Riverton by Kate Morton on Audiobook, and reading Always Cambridge by HK Carlton on my Kindle.

What books are in your to read pile?

It’s a massive pile but probably topping the list is the next Lisa Gardner thriller and Lisabet Sarai’s latest BDSM collection.

What books/authors have influenced your life?

See Lisabet Sarai and Lisa Gardner above. Lol. If you had to choose, which writer would you consider a mentor?

Perhaps Lisabet, she’s helped me in numerous ways. She’s such a generous person.

Is there anything you find particularly challenging in your writing?

Yes, I’m prone to procrastination so that’s a constant struggle to just do it!

Who designed the cover of your latest book?

My publisher Korey Mae Johnson.

Do you have any advice for other writers?

Keep at it. Publishing is a marathon, not a sprint, and don’t compare yourself to other authors. There will always be someone who is thinner, wealthier, or who sells more books than you so don’t do it because it wastes valuable energy.

What would your readers be surprised to learn about you?

Before I became an author I was a livestock breeder, and I have six kids (including two sets of twins), three boys and three girls like the Brady Bunch.

When you’re not writing what do you do? Do you have any hobbies or guilty pleasures?

I love to needlepoint and do fiber arts. I’m also a huge sports fan and my guilty secret is that I have (crazy, impossible) hoop dreams for my son to one day play in the NBA. Hey a momma can dream, right? Also, my husband and I love to go to Las Vegas. We try to go every year.

What is next for you? Do you have any scheduled upcoming releases or works in progress?

Bound by the Buccaneer should be released within the next month. It is the second after Rescued by the Buccaneer in the Pirates of the Jolie trilogy. And the third book in the Daddy’s Girl Series will be released this Fall.

She sensed his presence behind her before she felt his hands on her waist.

“I’ve been trying to be good, but you’re so sexy. I can’t resist you, babygirl.”

A wave of desire thrilled through her as his hands skimmed over her belly and he started unbuttoning her jean shorts. Her knees almost buckled and she held onto his forearms for support.

“But…” was the only protest she could muster.

“But I think you have on too many clothes,” he said slipping her shorts down to her ankles.

Feeling dizzy she turned to steady herself and found herself in his arms. When she lifted her face to his, he claimed her mouth, hungrily sliding his tongue between her lips. The electricity between them ramped up a notch, and for a moment she allowed herself the pleasure of letting go and relishing what it felt like to be in his arms.

He stepped back and lifted her t-shirt over her head.

It made her uncomfortable to be half-naked in front of him and she instinctively covered her breasts with her hands. Carmen believed most men preferred a thinner woman, and she was self-conscious about her voluptuous figure. She weighed at least thirty pounds more than the models on the magazine covers she saw every week at the grocery store check-out line.

“What are you doing? Stop. I want to see you.” He pulled her hands away, firmly placing them at her sides.

She felt the warmth rising in her cheeks. “I’m embarrassed.”

He smiled and shook his head. “Girl, you don’t know how good you look, do you?”

“Well, I…I just need to lose a few pounds,” she stammered.

“Lose a few pounds my ass! You’re beautiful. I love your curves. I don’t need an anorexic woman. I want a girl who knows how to live, how to eat,” he said, wrapping his arms around her again. “How to love.”

He scooped her up like a bride about to cross the threshold and started climbing the stairs.

Panic rose in her throat. “Natron, you can’t. Please! You’ll drop me.”

He merely chuckled. “You don’t know how strong I am. I’m not gonna drop you.”

“But Natron, what are you doing?”

“What do you think I’m doing? Takin’ you to bed.”

“But, but…it’s so fast.” The alarm bells that had been going off in her head waned. His persuasive charms were quickly overriding her concerns, and she longed to give in to him.

“When I see what I want I have to have it. And right now what I want is you.” He nuzzled her neck, nibbling his way around her earlobe.

The words “right now” stuck in her head. Okay, so he wanted her now, but what about afterwards?

Would he want her later or would she be just another conquest for the big football star?

When he reached the top of the stairs he tossed her on the bed and proceeded to take off the rest of his clothes. As he stood there in all his naked glory, Carmen drew a ragged breath. He was gorgeous.

Good Lord he must have to work out constantly to look like that and still eat pizza. His body was rock hard, every muscle well-defined. He even had that sexy Apollo’s belt that made that deep “v” leading directly to his enormous cock. As impressive as the rest of him was, it was impossible for her not to stare at his erection jutting out proudly before him. She’d heard black men were bigger, and in his case the rumor proved to be true.

“Now it’s your turn,” he tugged at her panties.

“Natron, I don’t know. Maybe this isn’t such a good idea…”

He pursed his lips. “Alright then, let’s play a game instead.”

She closed her legs, eyeing him skeptically. “What kind of game?”

“I call it ‘Everything But’,” he said.

“What do you do?” The game sounded rather self-explanatory, but she was stalling for time.

“You get naked and we can do everything but have sex. No penetration. Just foolin’ around.” He sat on the bed next to her and reached behind her to unfasten her bra. “No harm in that, is there?”

Daddy’s Game Daddy’s Girl Series Book Two Normandie Alleman Genre: Contemporary BDSM Erotic Romance Publisher: Stormy Night Publication Word Count: 62,000

Book Description: Football and kink collide when the game’s biggest star convinces a beautiful artist to play Daddy’s Game.

Sparks fly when up-and-coming artist Carmen Harris meets football star Natron Dakers at her first gallery opening. Carmen soon discovers that Natron is the type of man who sees what he wants and goes after it… and apparently what he wants is her. Almost before she knows it Carmen finds herself taking everything Natron gives her and begging for more, and when he reveals that he wants to be her dominant daddy and her to be his submissive little girl, she doesn’t hesitate to agree.

At the top of his profession, Natron has money, fame, and all the perks that go with them, and now at last in Carmen he has found a woman he wants to share it with. His life feels complete… until in a split second everything comes crashing down when a devastating injury threatens to end his season—and maybe his career. Natron fears he will lose it all, but will he

self-destruct or can he dig deep and fight hard for himself, his teammates, and his little girl?

Publisher’s Note: Daddy’s Game is the second book in the Daddy’s Girl series. It incorporates characters from the first book in the series, Daddy Morebucks, but it is a stand-alone novel. The content of Daddy’s Game includes spankings, graphic sexual scenes, elements of age play and BDSM, and more. If such material offends you, please don’t buy this book.

Available at Amazon Amazon UK

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About the Author: A former psychologist, Normandie has always been fascinated by human behavior. She loves writing quirky characters that are all too human. Fiber arts, baking, and Pinterest are a few of her favorite pastimes. She lives on a farm with a passel of children, hunky husband, and a pet pig who’s crazy for Red Bull.

Twitter at https://twitter.com/NormandieA Pinterest at http://pinterest.com/NormandieA Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/NormandieAlleman Website: www.normandiealleman.com Amazon Author Page: http://www.amazon.com/Normandie-Alleman/e/B00BNUDVFW Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6893037.Normandie_Alleman

Erotic Haiku by Roxanne Rhoads smooth satiny skin soft silken shimmering sheets sexy seduction

ecstatic pleasure spiritual sensation nourishing the soul

web of seduction energy beyond control goddess of pleasure

20 Ways to Find Your Inner Sex-Goddess

By Roxanne Rhoads Being a sex goddess isn't about how you look, it is about how you think and how you feel. You don't have to look like a Victoria Secret model or a porn star to be a sex goddess. You just have to learn to think sexy and feel sexy, it's all about attitude.

Here are some simple things you can do to alter your way of thinking, define what you think is sexy, and help you find your inner sex goddess. You might want to grab a notebook and a pen because some it requires you to write things down.

These are simple things that can help you see yourself and your sexuality more clearly. They can boost your confidence and help you live life fully and sexually.

1) Evaluate yourself in the mirror, what are your best features? Decide what you would like to change about your physical appearance, if it can be changed- start doing something about it, if it can't -learn to accept it and love it. Learn how to accentuate your strengths and your best assets. Learn to love yourself and see your inner beauty.

2) Start exercising; get your body in shape for sex. A healthy body is a sexy body. Plus exercise combats depression and releases natural endorphins that make you feel better which will help you feel sexier.

3) Write down a list of your strengths and weaknesses both physical and mental/emotional. Work on enhancing your strengths.

4) Make a list of the women you think are sexy and why. This could be a fictional character in a movie or on TV or it could be your next door neighbor or someone you work with.

5) Describe what you think is sexy, define sex appeal to you.

6) Make a list of things you would like to do (ex: take a Pilates class, an art class or learn to tango) pick one item from your list and go do it 7) Make a list of places you would like to travel to (they can be 30 or 3000 miles away or anywhere in between). Now make arrangements to go to one of

these places.

8) Read an erotic romance novel or some great erotic short stories that you can find online.

9) Watch porn. You may cringe but there are movies made specifically to cater to women, movies by Playgirl or made for Playgirl Television and anything by Candida Royalle. There are also many websites that cater to women. You need to broaden your horizons and let go of your inhibitions.

A sex goddess is uninhibited. There are also many websites that cater to women.

10) Write down a sexual fantasy of yours in explicit detail.

11) Order some lingerie catalogs or shop online, buy some new and sexy lingerie. Get something you would have never considered buying before, be bold and daring.

12) Get a makeover, color your hair, get a new hairstyle, do something that changes how you look and makes you feel good, makes you feel like a new woman.

13) Give your bedroom a makeover; turn it into a love nest with exotic bold colors, sensual fabrics, soft lighting, lots of fluffy pillows, and candles. Get rid of the pink frilly ruffles and lace, think sexy, silk, satin, velvet, damask, brocade, rich sumptuous fabrics that will tease and tantalize your skin.

14) Touch yourself, learn how your skin feels, how it responds to your touch, discover how you like to be touched, what feels good to you. Use different items like silk scarves, feathers, leather straps, delight in the different textures and how they feel. Wear a blindfold to increase the sensations 15) Masturbate, often. A woman that can control her own pleasure is a woman in control. This will help you be able to give and receive pleasure which is a major turn on. Invest in some sex toys.

16) Accept your sexual identity; do not be afraid of your sexuality or your desires. We are sexual creatures and we should not be ashamed of that.

17) Put together a sexual treasure chest, in it you should have things like a blindfold, fuzzy handcuffs, a selection of vibrators and dildos, scented massage oils, lickable/edible body oils and lotions, tickling feather, candles, cock rings, condoms (depending on your situation), etc... You could also store your copy of the Kama Sutra and your selection of porn magazines and DVD's in your little treasure trove of sexual goodies.

18) Pamper yourself, give yourself a wonderful treat, take some time to yourself, do something that feels good that you find relaxing.

19) Have sex as often as possible, be an active participant. Enjoy the sensations. Be open to giving and receiving pleasure.

20) Make a list of sexual things you would like to do, pick one and start experimenting or remember that fantasy you wrote down in explicit detail, go act it out.

= Something More Than Friends

By Roxanne Rhoads Story One A Hot and Sinful Summer: 5 Tantalizing Tales of Sizzling Summer Seduction I slid my mouth over Dave’s, tasting cigarettes, Jack Daniels, and that flavor uniquely his, part of that certain something special that drew me to him and always brought me back, making me want more.

Maybe it was because he was forbidden. How we always love things that are forbidden, especially when young and consequences aren’t as real as they became when one is older…and wiser.

Dave was my best friend’s ex-boyfriend. His ex, Jannie, and I had been BFFs forever, so the rules clearly stated that exes were off limits, even if she was now thousands of miles away, pregnant (not by him) and married.

And it didn’t matter how close he and I had become since she moved away. She and I were still BFFs and he was her one that got away.

So Dave and I shouldn’t have been doing…whatever the hell it was we were doing. You couldn’t call it dating; I wasn’t sure what to call it.

Something had drawn Dave and I together, maybe we were bonded in our loneliness. Neither one of us could have the person we really wanted. His love was on again off again and mine…was so…complicated. Complicated as in married. Dave’s girl was just psycho if you ask me. Who knows? Young love is always so dramatic.

So Dave and I commiserated with each other, bonded in our sorrow, found comfort in each other. We had always been rather close, even playful and flirty, but the last couple months we had progressed from friends…to more, to friends with benefits.

But no one could know except us.

I broke off the kiss and threw my head back as his hands slid under my shirt pushing my bra aside.

“God, Nicki, you feel so good.” He moaned against my neck sending shivers down my spine. His nuzzling kisses trailed up my neck then he moved back to my lips, this time really kissing me.

I think I stopped breathing.

When he put everything into his kisses…oh my god, they were exquisite. My heart stilled as my chest grew tight. The ache made me want to cry. I returned his kiss shoving away the flood of emotion that threatened to drown me in tears if I didn’t distract myself with the pleasure of his body.

He grabbed my hips with his large hands and thrust himself against me. Desire thrilled my nerve endings as his bulging need pushed against my own heated, aching core. I rocked back and forth, teasing. His erection threatened to burst the zipper of his jeans.

His breathing became ragged and his kisses more urgent. “Nic, I need you,” he pleaded.

I loved it when he pleaded. It wasn’t pathetic, more like sexy and needy. A man unafraid to let you know he needed you, wanted you. A girl could get used to being wanted like that.

It had all started with a tease. See I loved to tease and hadn’t expected it go further, ever. One night it did. We were always so flirtatious with each other. Then one night we were both sad, alone, broken and the not-soinnocent-flirting became deeper, more involved, as in all the way involved.

And tonight it looked like he wanted a replay.

“Here? In the cramped space of the car?” I glanced around the front of my Regal where I sat on Dave’s lap in the passenger seat. We parked in a secluded area on a hot summer night. Not like anyone would notice.

I caved. I knew all along this was what we’d come here for. At least I had secretly hoped it was why he asked me to take him home and not Eric, even though Eric taking him home made more sense since they lived near each other. As soon as he had asked me, my heart raced and my body tingled at the prospect of a secret tryst in my car, thrilling.

It wasn’t like we could hook up at my place where our friends were currently drinking and watching movies.

And his place was totally out of the question since he still lived at home with his parents, one of the downfalls of being a young twenty something going to college close to home.

To our friends this secretive rendezvous was just supposed to be me giving Dave a ride home since his truck was broke down. Instead, the little detour was me giving Dave a very different kind of ride. A very enjoyable ride.

I reached for his zipper as I wiggled back against the dashboard putting some space between us so we could more easily bare body parts.

The heat we were putting off already had the windows of the car fogging up, no worries about anyone seeing us. It was going to get hot. I cracked the window just a bit so we could breathe.

I tugged on Dave’s jeans as he lifted his hips. His large cock sprang free and automatically I licked my lips in desire. He was impressively endowed with length and girth…and the ability to put them to very good use. I could understand why Jannie had been so hung up on him. Dave was sexy, funny, and great in bed…or wherever else we decided to have sex.

As he situated himself I struggled out of my shoes, jean shorts, and panties. Finally naked from the waist down, I positioned myself on Dave’s lap, settling over the hard length of him.

I moved in for another mind blowing kiss as I slid my wetness over his length, teasing, taunting, sliding… We were too far gone to stop now, but the tease was always sooo good. I wondered how much of it he could take.

Obviously not a lot because within moments he grabbed my hips pulling them forward, lifted me slightly just enough to expertly angle his cock, and plunged it deep into my hot, wet, aching pussy.

I moaned loudly with the initial penetration, he drove inside me so fast and deep that I saw stars. Heated sensations crept over and through me as his hips kept pushing upward, thrusting his shaft deep within me, so very deep inside me. I held on and just took him in, not being able to move, all I could do was allow the sensations for a few moments.

When I finally recovered, I rocked my body to meet him thrust for thrust, riding his body, drawing him into me and loving every second of it. Loving every inch of him inside me.

Even though I knew I shouldn’t.

We were friends with benefits. Best friends. We told each other everything. Every sordid detail. We knew each other well enough to know we didn’t need condoms as long as I was on the pill, well enough to know when we were tested for things and what the results were. Well enough to know we were safe in each other.

I couldn’t let myself acknowledge the feelings creeping through me, crawling into my heart, pushing into my head making me think such crazy thoughts. Thoughts that would change things. Complicate things.

Love would complicate everything. Ruin it all.

It always did.

I mentally shook myself. This wasn’t love. Couldn’t be. Dave and I used each other to push away the loneliness, to distract from the sadness, to drown the pain. We were each other’s drug, each other’s security blanket, something to reach out to in the darkness so we didn’t have to be alone.

But as I rode him, his body filling me with such intense pleasure, as he held me, I felt so safe in his arms. I kissed him like I couldn’t get enough…I knew… knew I felt so much more for him than just friendship.

But I also knew it would never ever work between us.

So I enjoyed every moment, savoring every thrust as our bodies joined, pelvis to pelvis, in an intimate primal dance. We kissed, we thrust, we moved inside our secret little world in the front of a window fogged car on a hot summer night. At that moment there was nowhere else I’d rather be, and I prayed he felt the same as our bodies joined as one and there was no more loneliness in our world.

I held on tight and let the rest of the world along with all other thoughts and feelings melt away.

The car turned into a sauna but it just increased the need as our sweat slicked bodies slid together, merging as one, together in our desire to be, to feel something more.

Stars twinkled behind my eyes as my body tightened and trembled. My pussy tingled and throbbed, gripping and clutching his rock hard cock until the orgasm rocketed through my body and almost bounced me off of him and into the roof of the car.

He held me tight as his rhythm grew wild and frenzied, primal male grunts and growls matched his thrusts until his cock grew rigid inside me and every other body part stilled except for that huge cock gushing liquid heat into me.

Then we just held each other, breath ragged, bodies joined in a wet, sweaty union on the front seat of my car.

I pulled away first, untangling our legs and scrambling for my clothes. I cleaned us off with my panties. Then I struggled into my jean shorts, sans underwear, while he pulled up his boxers and jeans.

After stuffing my panties into my purse, I crawled back into the driver’s seat without a word.

I didn’t want to take him home. Not to his home. I wanted to take him back to my place and curl up with him all night in my bed.

To hell with our friends and what they thought. Sorry Jannie, you lost him, now he’s mine, all’s fair in love and war. Right? Wrong.

And honestly it wasn’t about them. It was about us, Dave and me. We were good friends but so not compatible as boyfriend and girlfriend. We knew each other well, enough to know that. I knew that. I was too practical to have a committed relationship with a man like Dave. He was a fun friend but not the type of guy I’d settle down with. I knew him well enough to know that wasn’t going to change…ever. Plus, if you went into a relationship thinking you could change that person, well, then you were definitely with the wrong person.

So I took him home, whether I really wanted to or not. Sometimes life was about doing the right thing, not the thing you really wanted to do. Damn, I was growing up. I struggled against it, not wanting to grow up, wanting, needing so bad to just give into my childish desires.

Within minutes we pulled into his driveway.

He turned to me, leaned in and gave me a gentle kiss. “Thanks, Nic. I’ll give you a call tomorrow.”

I closed my eyes as my heart did that little stop and leap thing it tended to do when his lips touched mine. As I sat there almost drunk off him I opened my eyes and realized he was staring at me. What was he thinking? Did he feel what I felt? Could this be more? Did he want it to be more?

I stared and silently questioned wanting to drown in the beauty of his blue eyes. But I didn’t ask any of my questions, I didn’t say the things running through my head and my heart. Instead I said, “Sure, I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

He looked at me like he wanted me to say something else. His eyes searched mine, but after a few moments he finally turned and hopped out of the car.

I watched him until he was inside the house then I backed out of the driveway and headed home. I drove in silence, acutely aware of the emptiness in the car and the awful ache deep within myself.

A Hot and Sinful Summer 5 Tantalizing Tales of Sizzling Summer Seduction

By Roxanne Rhoads Genre: sizzling erotica Five sinfully seductive tales of scorching summer trysts grace the pages of this short story collection.

Something More Than Friends- a clandestine hookup in the front seat of a car is anything but casual as two friends simmer with emotion while hiding their secret affair from the rest of the world.

Sun Worship- The heat brings out carnal urges in Gina, urges she can't control as the hot summer sun beats down upon her bare skin. You won’t believe the naughty things she does to appease her needs...while her neighbor, Joe, secretly watches.

Lawn Service- Serena's loneliness and the relentless summer heat have her aching for something sinful.

Her wishes are granted when Rob, a sexy lawn service technician, shows up to get her yard in shape for the annual 4th of July party.

A Hot and Sticky Summer Night- It’s a hot summer night and a young couple are plagued by boredom. They drive around looking for something fun to do. They end up making love in the woods... and it's anything but boring.

Not Another One Night Stand- Rebecca has been watching Damon at the nightclub for weeks. One night she finally works up the courage to approach him...and he goes home with her. Will it be just a one night stand or could it be something more?

Warning: heat level is hot and explicit About the Author: Story strumpet, tome loving tart, eccentric night owl...these words describe book publicist and erotic romance author Roxanne Rhoads.

When not fulfilling one the many roles being a wife and mother of three require, Roxanne's world revolves around words...reading them, writing them, editing them, and talking about them. In addition to writing her own stories she loves to read, promote and review what others write.

Roxanne is the owner of Bewitching Book Tours and operates Fang-tastic Books, a book blog dedicated to paranormal and urban fantasy books.

When not reading, writing, or promoting Roxanne loves to hang out with her family, craft, garden and search for unique vintage finds.

Visit her online Author blog www.roxannesrealm.blogspot.com Book Blog www.fang-tasticbooks.blogspot.com Bewitching Book Tours www.bewitchingbooktours.blogspot.com Facebook www.facebook.com/RoxanneRhoads http://www.facebook.com/BewitchingBooktours http://www.facebook.com/RoxanneRhoadsAuthor http://www.facebook.com/FangtasticBooks Twitter @RoxanneRhoads Roxanne can also be found on Linked In, Goodreads and Google+

What better way to spend a beautiful day in July than with the lovely Ginger Kewl and some classic Cars!

This shoot was actually setup by Ginger Kewl and she invited me out to shoot with her, and I can’t thank her enough.

We got so many great shots, and had so much fun; I thought I would share a few of the images with you.

Hope everyone had a wonderful and safe 4th of July, and I look forward to sharing more images with you next month!

Hair/Makeup: Ginger Kewl Car: 55 Chevy