June 2015 Bewitching Book Tours Magazine

Bewitching Book Tours Magazine Issue 36 June 2015

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 2015 Stock images from www.123rf.com

Did you read last month’s issue?

What inspired you to become an author?

I’ve always been a storyteller in one form or another. I read so much as I was growing up, science fiction, fantasy, mysteries that I guess it was just natural to want to write my own story. It took me a long time to want to be myself as a writer and not mimic the people I read and admired.

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

The title, A mber Prelude sort of presented itself to me as I was writing the story. This is the story of what happened to Mitchell just prior to the first story, A mber Gifts, hence a prelude. I also wanted something that would tie the stories together, make them easier to recognize, hence the amber. John D. MacDonald did something similar with his Travis McGee mysteries. All those stories had a color in the title, Deep Blue, Scarlet, Lonely Silver.

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

This book is the second story in the series and the prequel to A mber Gifts. The third story, A mber Legacy will be published by Champagne in November as long as I finish the edits on time like a good writer-person. A mber Legacy continues the story from the end of A mber Gifts and involves some even more sinister and deadly people.

What book are you reading now?

Can you share a little of your current work with us?

By current, I’ll assume you mean this release, A mber Prelude. It takes place before my first story, A mber Gifts. I was thinking, what would I do, where would I go if this offer was presented to me.

I’d probably make the same kind of decision that Mitchell does. Then I say a television segment that demonstrated that a particular artist might not have committed suicide. Once I put those two items together I was off and running with the story. \

Is there anything you find particularly challenging in your writing?

Continuity and accuracy are my two biggest challenges.

My stories are out of sequence, so I have to be careful that I include all the right parts, even if they aren’t in the right order. I’m also writing about real history so it’s important to get the facts right, what side did the iceberg hit the Titanic or which ear was missing from Van Gosh, what year did Ty Cobb win the batting title?

Who designed the cover of your latest book?

My publisher, Champagne Books has some wonderful artists in their employ. Ms. Ellie Smith has done my last two covers. I think they are very eye catching.

Do you have any advice for other writers?

Write for yourself. For years I wanted to be the next Heinlein, Clarke, MacDonald. That wasn’t who I was.

It wasn’t until I wrote for me that I was able to write a complete story. Just be yourself.

you think represents this book?

Do you have a song or playlist (book soundtrack) that

SPOILERS!! I do and in fact I listened to the same song over and over while I was writing the middle third of the story. I’m not going to tell you the song but I’d like to thank Don Mclean very much.

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

Amber Prelude is the current release and Amber Legacy will be released in November. I’m currently working on the fourth story, which has no Amber title as yet. This story will take a lot of the rules I’ve set up for this time traveling universe and turn them completely around. I can’t say too much because honestly, I’m not sure what’s going to happen but I have a good ten thousand words done already.

I just need some time to see what happens.

Amber Prelude Amber Gifts Prequel Kevin B. Henry Genre: Fantasy, Time Travel, Science Fiction, and History

Publisher: Burst/ Champagne Books Date of Publication: June 01, 2015 Word Count: 20,000 Formats available: eBook, PDF Cover Artist: Ellie Smith Book Description: Mitchell didn't really believe the story the Man told him, Just take a sip and speak a year. He whimsically chose a historic event to witness. Little did he know he would become part of that history. Faster than you can say Teithwyr Amser our man Mitchell is chasing a bona fide assassin not only across America but across time.

Amber Prelude will require Mitchell to travel from the America he knows to France and Africa. He will travel to decades and centuries he is unfamiliar with. Mitchell will chase authentic villains and make historic friends, all in an attempt to set history back the way he remembers.

Excerpt Chapter One 1963: New Mexico It had started simply. I uncapped the vial, drank the liquid, and spoke the year I had chosen aloud. The room spun. I dissolved.

I anticipated nothing happening. I began by sitting at the old wooden table feeling numb. My expectations extended to looking for shelter the following morning. Maybe I would move under a bridge for a short time; maybe I would do something much worse to myself.

I’d experienced severely morbid thoughts for months. Moving often transformed me. A nightmarish combination of a manic and depressed person was all I had been until the vial. It continued for months, and I expected it to continue forever. What I didn’t expect was a twisting feeling in my chest and lower abdomen. It wasn’t painful, just an unusual feeling. I didn’t expect the room to blur. I blinked several times, but it wasn’t my eyes; the room was blurry. Soon the room ceased to exist.

I had not spent long hours considering the year I would move to. I flippantly selected 1963. It would give me almost ten years before my birth moment and I vanished from the universe forever. The Man was specific about not existing past my birth moment. It would give me a chance to see some of the most tumultuous years in America, civil rights marches, hippies, the moon landing. My choice of year would give me a chance to stand at Dealey Plaza and personally see if there was a second shooter.

It was a shallow choice, but it was the best I could come up with.

My first thought as the world congealed around me was that I had said something wrong. Had I said 1863? It was night. The stars above me were crisp and clear. Sagebrush surrounded me in all directions. Gone were the smells of the city. My senses absorbed a clean, fresh smell. This was how I remembered the world use to be. A scrub oak blended with the evening shadows just a few feet to my right. To my left was a light in the distance, a campfire. The flames created dancing shadows on the two trees surrounding the fire. Someone sat next to the fire, stirring the flames, sparks rising into the starry sky.

I walked toward the fire. I didn’t see that I had any choice; every other direction was pitch-black.

Halfway there he rose from his place at the fire and raised his left hand above his head.

He sparkled. It wasn’t anything residual from the fire. His whole body twinkled and sparkled. It was disturbing.

“About time, Mitchell,” he yelled. “I’ve been waiting here for damn near three days.” “Come on in. I’m sure you have questions, son.”

I got over my initial anxiety of the twinkle man and sat on the far side of the fire. We had been sitting before the fire for fewer than five minutes. I was dazed, confused, and overwhelmed. Less than an hour ago, I was sitting in a dingy, two-bit hotel room.

Now, here I was, in some large expanse of desert in the company of someone who looked like Ray Teal, that quintessential sheriff on so many TV westerns and movies. He wore standard blue jeans, a simple button-front dress shirt, and a light-gray jacket. This twinkle man had a slouch hat, not exactly cowboy, but not a fedora either. He was half a foot shorter than me, stockier, and a minimum of twentyfive-years older, if I had to guess his age. There was salt and pepper stubble covering his face. His voice was deeper than mine, but not so deep that I envied it.

“Okay,” I began. “Where am I?” “New Mexico,” he answered without hesitation. “You’re about three miles east of Tucumcari.”

I considered that answer. “When am I?” “It’s November, 1963.”

“What’s the date, the day?” It concerned me I might miss my reason for picking this year.

“It’s the sixth.” A wave of relief swept over me. I wasn’t too late.

His answers were rapid-fire, no pauses or measurable moments that I would have considered creative thinking. He was either telling the truth or extremely well prepared for my random questions. I tried to think of the relevant questions I should ask. The standard ones, who, what, when, where, seemed a good place to start.

“How did I get here?”

“Well now, that’s an obvious answer to a poorly considered, ill-thought out question.” He shook his head. “You took a drink from that vial you have tucked away in your jacket pocket.”

A sudden gust of wind caused me to wrap my windbreaker tighter around my body. Maybe it wasn’t the night air. I was a little hurt. It wasn’t an attempt at sounding stupid; just understand what had happened to me.

“How did you know I was coming?” Maybe that question would seem less inept.

“Now that’s complicated.” He answered this question more slowly. He was thinking more and not just responding. “My name is Gil, Gil Seward. I got a letter just a few days ago. It asked me to come here and see if you’d appear. The letter said to just wait here a while and see if you drank from the vial or not. If you did, I’m supposed to help you out a little. Get you started and send you on your way.”

“Asked by whom? That guy who gave me the vial?”

“Yeah” was his only response. I hate one-word answers.

“Who was he? Why did he give me this vial?”

“He was someone I owed a favor. I haven’t seen him for a long time. He isn’t someone you need to know. Forget him. I don’t know why he decided to give you his vial. He just did.”

He paused for a while, stirring the fire with his stick, a small branch from one of the nearby trees.

“One last question for now,” he said. “Make it a good one.”

“Okay, Gil,” I said, using his name for the first time. “Why the hell do you sparkle? You look like some creation by Industrial Light, a special effect in a vampire or science fiction movie.”

“Forgot all about that,” he laughed. “You sparkle too. You just can’t see it. You started as soon as you drank from the vial. All Amser will sparkle.”

“What’s an Amser?”

“Sorry, Mitchell, You’ve reached your limit on questions for now. It’s my turn to ask some.”

I started to say something, but the look on his face made me stop. I hoped that ‘for now’ meant there would be more answers in the future.

“What made you pick this year?”

“It wasn’t a rational decision. Who would believe this would really work? I figured I’d see something special, something historic. Dallas and the Kennedy assassination was a significant event in my life. All the other conspiracy theories I remember while growing up could never surpass this one event.

Standing on the grassy knoll and knowing beyond a doubt if there was or wasn’t a second shooter seemed as good an idea as any.”

“With all of history to choose from, you wanted to watch somebody die?”

“That wasn’t my motivation.” I said “I thought of it more as watching a documentary on TV.” “We’ll see what you think of your documentary as you watch it live. Did you have plans afterward?”

“I don’t have many concrete plans. Just live out the next decade before I die.”

“Why would you want to die?”

“The Man said I couldn’t live past my birth moment. That was another reason I came here. That gives me several years to live before that time.”

“He didn’t tell you?”

“Tell me what?”

“You have it all wrong, Mitchell. You can use that vial repeatedly. Just refill it. You can travel to any year, any time, as often as you want, as many times as you want. You’re not stuck in this year or decade forever.”

I’m not sure my mouth actually fell open, but that is how I remember it.

About the Author: From an early age, Kevin B. Henry was a voracious reader. His collection of science fiction, fantasy and mystery books bring tears of envy to the eyes of many small community libraries.

Kevin has worked as an educator, technology specialist and day laborer most of his adult life. During all that time he lived the life of a frustrated author. That it took 30 years for him to piece together the series, Amber Gifts is a testament that the best meals need slow cooking to bring out the flavor.

The Amber Gifts Series begins with Amber Gifts. The second story, which is really the first, is Amber Prelude, and is available now. The third story, Amber Legacy continues where Amber Gifts left off. It will be available in November 2015. All are published by the wonderful folks at the Champagne Book Group. A fourth story is in the process of being written.

Kevin is a natural story teller, so it’s logical that he lectures occasionally. Topics range from the implementation of cutting edge technology hardware to the creation, modification and use of e-books within education. He constantly pursues research to expand his range of possible topics. His most recent research revolved around the aerodynamic properties of reindeer. He’s also been known to include little known facts and trivia within his presentations. Did you know just 146 years ago today the Union Army marched into Atlanta. It took longer than anticipated. They were delayed by a traffic jam on I-75 and the toll booth on Ga. 400 He continues to live in the Mid-West without human or domesticated mammal companionship.

Blog/Wesbite: www.ambergifts.blogspot.com Twitter: @Kevin_Henry Facebook: www.facebook.com/AmberGifts

The Inspiration For the Artwork in Summer Moon For those of you who aren’t familiar with the Celtic Wolves Series you need only imagine a world where the legends of Celtic lore still walk among us in secret. It’s a place where warriors are also wolves and reality isn’t always what it seems. Set in modern day, the stories are a mixture of both urban fantasy and romance. Written for adults, each installment has strong fantasy elements built around Celtic folklore, with a secondary romance between two new characters.

Luc Black, also known at the Beast of Merin, is a secondary character in Celtic Moon, the first book in the series, and the hero in Summer Moon, the second installment. Luc has remained loyal to his deceased wife, Koko, for over sixty years after her passing. That is until Rosa comes along and makes him an offer he can’t refuse. Koko is the antagonist of Luc and Rosa’s love story, and I knew early on I needed to give her a voice. This was a challenge, because, well… she dead, and she remains deceased.

Koko’s character was also an artist, so the idea to write journal entries that included artwork seemed a natural way to bring her presence to the page. By giving her a voice I didn’t have to explain Luc’s actions, or his loyalty. Rest assured, Rosa poses a temptation for Luc—and he does fall.

From Summer Moon: Rising to a standing position, Luc kept his head bent in shame. “I want her,” he whispered to the woman who’d taught him how to love. “I’m sorry, Koko . . .

I’ll never forget you. Never. But I ache for another and I don’t know how much longer I’ll last.”

The anguished plea eased his beast, knowing its master’s resolve was weakening to an instinct more powerful than honor.

There are only seven short journal entries in Summer Moon, and they are so minor compared to the rest of the story, but the reaction I’ve received from readers has been interesting. Perhaps because artwork isn’t often seen in paperback novels, I’m not sure. Some readers loved Koko and wanted more of her and Luc’s story, and some hated her. I love that a secondary character, and a deceased one at that, who hardly had any page space, created such passionate opinions.

As you may have already guessed, the artwork included with the journal entries was drawn by me, using an assortment of mixed media, mostly colored pencils and watercolors. I was thrilled when I learned my publishing house wanted to include them in the book. You are welcome to browse Koko’s Journal on my website and read the full excerpts.

All my best, Jan

Celtic Moon The Celtic Wolves Series Book 1 Sophie and Dylan’s Story Jan DeLima Genre: Urban Fantasy/Paranormal Romance Publisher: ACE Date of Publication: September 24, 2013 ISBN: 978-0425266205 ASIN: B00BF08AOM Number of pages: 304 Word Count: 84,000 approx Book Description: Like father, like son...

Sophie Thibodeau has been on the run from the father of her son for more than fifteen years. Now her son, Joshua, is changing, and her greatest fears are about to be realized. He's going to end up being just like his father----a man who can change into a wolf.

Dylan Black has been hunting for Sophie since the night she ran from him----an obsession he cannot afford in the midst of an impending war. Dylan controls Rhuddin Village, an isolated town in Maine where he lives with an ancient Celtic tribe. One of the few of his clan who can still shift into a wolf, he must protect his people from the Guardians, vicious warriors who seek to destroy them.

When Sophie and Dylan come together for the sake of their son, their reunion reignites the fierce passion they once shared. For the first time in years, Dylan's lost family is within his grasp. But will he lose them all over again? Are Joshua and Sophie strong enough to fight alongside Dylan in battle?

Nothing less than the fate of his tribe depends on it...

Available at Amazon and BN Teaser Excerpt from Celtic Moon: “I’m going for a run,” Dylan said dryly, taking off toward the woods. His people had wronged Sophie.

He was convinced of that now. And still she had come home to him, of her own free will—for their son.

His wolf clawed at his spine for release. Its fury, its need—its desire for the woman who’d had the courage to return for their child was no longer controllable.

The wolf wanted out.

Having her near and within reach was akin to pain.

Perhaps it was a good thing Sophie hadn’t invited him to stay, Dylan thought as he entered the forest, ripping off clothes as he walked. For if she had, he wasn’t sure if he could have controlled his hunger.

It had been too long.

Celtic Moon’s first chapter: http://jandelima.com/CelticMoon_Chapter1.html Summer Moon The Celtic Wolves Series Book 2 Rosa and Luc’s story Jan DeLima Genre: Urban Fantasy/Paranormal Romance Publisher: ACE Date of Publication: September 30, 2014 ISBN: 978-0425266212 ASIN: B00ISEOKPG

Number of pages: 305 Word Count: 84,000 Book Description: She won't be ruled again...

Rosa Alban has been obedient her entire life. But when her alpha husband dies, she seizes the opportunity to flee the oppressive Guardians—the rulers of the secret shapeshifter world. Her flight instantly brands her as a pack traitor, and she has no choice but to seek protection from a neighboring tribe by marrying one of their sons.

Known as the Beast of Merin, Luc Black loyally plays the part of unwanted son and devoted brother.

He realizes marrying Rosa will strengthen his tribe’s territory, but he has no intention of loving ever again. Still, he’s unprepared for the intense physical need the wild she-wolf awakens in him.

When the Guardians hone in on Rosa, Luc must fight to protect his new bride. And as war descends, the unlikely allies discover their destinies are irrevocably entwined…

Available at Amazon and BN

Excerpt from Summer Moon:

Luc wrapped the knitted blanket around Rosa and draped it like a shawl. Fisting his hands around the corners, he pulled her forward, like a fish caught in a weir. Before she could guess his intent, she found herself on his lap, cocooned in heat and hot male skin, with her legs dangled over his knees.

“Now, is this so bad?” he taunted while tucking her head under his chin.

“I suppose not.” Pondering where to place her hands, she ended up curling them in her lap, while her shoulder rested in the crook between his arm and chest.

In truth, it was hypnotic setting on him like this—dangerously so, like the hush before a storm. The rise and fall of his torso as he breathed lulled like a male siren, along with the weight of his arms and the lure of his skin against her cheek. The most exquisite scent of forest and man wove around her senses. More tempting, underneath it all lay the hint of musk, of potent wolf waiting in the shadows to protect her if the human failed.

All her tension ebbed like a babe in caring arms. Away from Guardians and wrapped in strength; she’d not felt this safe since childhood. How sad that she’d found peace with a virtual stranger. And how easily she could become addicted.

Oh, yes . . . this was dangerous. “How long do we have to stay like this?”

“Shhhh . . .” His throat moved as he swallowed while his hands trailed up her thighs and under her sweater, but only to knead the muscles of her lower back.

As if she weren’t becoming a puddle of goo already.

Before long, her eyes grew heavy, drifted closed. Had he been waiting for this moment of surrender, she wondered drowsily, when her guard had dissolved enough to welcome his gentle game? And did she care? For this was far more pleasant than any others she’d been forced to play.

He shifted to the side and moved his shoulder, leaned a bit, and her head rolled back, only to be caught by the soft pressure of his mouth on hers. So tender she didn’t even open her eyes. Were a man’s lips supposed to be this soft? Like with other carnal acts, she had little experience with kissing, sadly enough.

Having known only violence or indifference, her perceptions reeled. Indeed, if this was passion, then she didn’t know how to respond. But she was curious enough to try. She would admit that to herself, and even to him if he asked . . . She was so hungry to know what others whispered about in giggly tones. How many stories had she heard, from Tesni and others, of their forbidden trysts and naughty secrets, only to feel like a bystander to their private joy?

“Open your mouth, Rosa.” The order came on a husky whisper against her lips.

Summer Moon’s first chapter: http://jandelima.com/SummerMoon_Chapter1.html

Autumn Moon The Celtic Wolves Series Book 3 Elen and Cormack’s story Jan DeLima Genre: Urban Fantasy/Paranormal Romance Publisher: ACE Date of Publication: September 29, 2015 ISBN: 978-0425266229 ASIN: B00SI0B9DQ Number of pages: Word Count: Book Description: The heart of a warrior, the soul of a wolf, and the desires of a man…

For centuries, Cormack has lived between worlds—a man trapped in the body of a wolf, shunned by humans and shifters alike. Only one person has ever welcomed his company: Elen, a kindred outcast who is feared by others of her ancient Celtic race for her strange healing abilities.

Cormack has always valued Elen’s kindness and understanding, but after a desperate act of friendship causes Elen to free him from his curse, he realizes he wants more. He wants all of her—completely and forever.Except before Cormack can win Elen’s heart, Pendaran, the evil leader of the Guardians, captures her, determined to manipulate her incredible power to aid him in his twisted war against the shapeshifting tribes.

Now Cormack must use all of his skills as a warrior and a wolf to save the woman he loves—before Pendaran’s vile schemes destroy them all…

Available at Amazon and BN

Excerpt from Autumn Moon Too wired to sleep, Elen opened the wine and poured a glass, sipping quietly as she walked over to the bed. Cormack slept above the coverlet and on his back, with one arm raised over his head, while the other rested by his side. His hair was still damp from his shower, and he wore jeans but no shirt, as if he’d just rested his head and sleep claimed him first.

His chest rose and fell with even breaths. She was not one to marvel over physical attributes, but this was Cormack, and his body was meant for pleasure, like a goddess had molded him for her personal divine gratification. His frame was large, and toned, with wide shoulders and a firm chest that tapered

down to his hips. His hardened stomach would provide the perfect friction were she to ride him just like this.

And as that image flooded her mind, another, more wicked one, followed. It was greedy, and selfish, but all her niceness had been used up for the day. He looked peaceful, and innocent, but the man was practically immortal after all. Their kind did not die from lack of sleep. They might go mad, of course, but that took a few weeks. And had he not said, do with me as you will?

She needed to touch him. That was all. Well, no, she wanted more, but for now that would do. Taking a sip of her wine, she gently set the glass on an end table by the bed, and gave into temptation.

Starting by his heart, she brushed lightly across his chest, tracing down the indent between, and lingering on the valleys and curves of his muscles. Flattening her hand over his stomach, she felt the soft hair that began just above the waistband of his jeans and disappeared below. She had never seen him in this restful state, at least not in his human form, and took in her ravenous fill.

Her hand lingered over the button of his jeans. She swallowed, wanting… Oh, how she wanted. It burned like molten earth, fed by a need that had been denied for too long. Even now she felt her body moisten and swell just from imagining what waited beyond that closure, and how it would feel inside her.

Or how it would taste.

She thumbed the button. A quick flick was all it would take.

A sound made her jolt, an intake of breath perhaps, followed by a sudden rise under her hands. She snapped her eyes to his face.

Cormack was awake.

And watching her.

A fire raged within his cerulean gaze. “Kill me now if you stop, Elen, because then I’ll know I’m well and truly cursed and I cannot be tortured anymore.”

Prequel for Autumn Moon: http://jandelima.com/mshafwen_excerpt.html About the Author:

Jan DeLima is the author of the Celtic Wolves novels, including Summer Moon and Celtic Moon. She lives in Maine with her husband and their two sons. Unlike many authors, Jan didn’t pen stories at an early age, but she has always been a dedicated reader.

She loves stories and storytelling. It wasn’t until after her children entered school that she began writing. Raised in a military family, she lived in different countries such as Thailand and Germany, but home base has always been Maine.

Website: http://www.jandelima.com/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/delimajan Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/delimajan Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6928196.Jan_DeLima

Bewitching Book Swag Bewitching Book Tours offers custom book swag creations that can be added on to tour packages or ordered separately.

We offer 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.

We can also add small charms to coordinate with book content- we have a wide variety of charms to choose from and if we don't have something that matches your book we can get it.

Some of the silver charms available are: vampire fangs, wolves, witch hats, keys and locks, books, hearts, haunted houses, bats, foxes, hamsas, dragons, sugar skulls, rhinestone skull and crossbones, high heeled shoes, Fleur de lis, masquerade masks, owls and many more.

You can also opt to have the items completely customized by adding your book cover to a metal charm. The book covers are encased in small metal photo frame charms and sealed in resin for a high quality charm that looks fabulous and is very durable.

Our goal is to create custom book swag that represents your book.

What inspired you to become an author?

Reading, of course! From the first day of first grade, I loved reading. Then, when I was eight years old, I started writing a story at school about apple tree gnomes. The teacher loved what I’d written so far. I was very shy, and her comment freaked me out so much that I wrote a bad ending so she wouldn’t compliment me again—that was safer than doing my best and coming up with something mediocre. But that was when I knew I wanted to write.

Do you have a specific writing style?

You’ll have to ask my readers. I write in deep 3rd person point of view most of the time (with the occasional foray into 1st person), but apart from that I can’t describe my style except in very general terms. There’s lots of dialogue and action and not much description. I don’t know how to write comedy, but if humor just happens to nose its way in, I’m delighted and keep it there.

Do you write in different genres?

Yes, unfortunately, because this makes it difficult for me to establish an author ‘brand’, which they say matters a lot. I write two kinds of Regencies – with and without magic – and also wrote the Bayou Gavotte series, which are paranormal romance/mystery. And then there’s that first person mystery I’m working on. I don’t seem to be able to stick to one thing at a time.

If yes, which is your favorite genre to write?

How can I possibly choose? I love them all.

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

With a great deal of pain and much help from others. I’m terrible at titles.

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

See the above answer. My placeholder titles are usually pretty blah, such as the hero or heroine’s name (which sometimes changes in the course of the book, but the placeholder may stay the same. No point exchanging one dumb title for another).

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

I don’t plan around a message, but so far they all say something like “Love conquers all” or “Love is the greatest magic” or “Be yourself and love will follow.” Sappy stuff, but that’s romance for you.

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

Read, cook, eat, sleep… I used to do a lot of knitting and crocheting, but since I started writing seriously, I never seem to have the time. Succeeding at making socks is on my bucket list, but at this rate I’ll never manage it.

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

Coming up next is a Regency (without magic) called To Kiss a Rake, which will be out on July 29th.

It’s a marriage of extreme inconvenience for both hero and heroine. Here’s the blurb: WHEN A LADY IS ABDUCTED BY MISTAKE… Melinda Starling doesn’t let ladylike behavior get in the way of true love. She’s secretly helping with an elopement, when she’s tossed into the waiting coach and driven away by a notorious rake.

REVENGE REALLY DOESN’T PAY. Miles Warren, Lord Garrison, comes from a family of libertines, and he’s the worst of them all—or so society believes. When Miles helps a friend to run away with an heiress, it’s an entertaining way to revenge himself on one of the gossips who slandered him.

Except that he drives off with the wrong woman…and as if that wasn’t scandalous enough, he can’t resist stealing a kiss.

Lady of the Flames A Most Peculiar Season Multi Author Series Book Three Barbara Monajem Genre: Regency Paranormal Date of Publication: March 23, 2015 ISBN: 978-1508426240 ASIN: B00T0JAWLO Word Count: 61,800 Cover Artist: Jane Dixon-Smith Book Description: Magic is fraught with peril—but so is love.

Lord Fenimore Trent’s uncanny affinity for knives and other sharp blades led to duels and murderous brawls until he found a safe, peaceful outlet by opening a furniture shop—an unacceptable occupation for a man of noble birth. Now Fen’s business partner has been accused of treason. In order to root out the real traitor, he may have to resort to the violent use of his blades once again.

Once upon a time, Andromeda Gibbons believed in magic. That belief faded after her mother’s death and vanished completely when Lord Fenimore, the man she loved, spurned her. Five years later, Andromeda has molded herself into a perfect—and perfectly unhappy—lady.

When she overhears her haughty betrothed plotting treason, she flees into the London night—to Fen, the one man she knows she can trust. But taking refuge with him leads to far more than preventing treason.

Can she learn to believe in love, magic, and the real Andromeda once again?

Available at Amazon

Amazon UK Kobo

Amazon Canada

BN iTunes

Excerpt:

Setup: After learning of a treasonous plot, Andromeda fled into the London night to get help from Lord Fen, the man she once loved. They’re now having breakfast the next morning.

Years ago, Andromeda had felt no need to talk when with Fen, but now it was uncomfortable, like conversing with a stranger. Then, they’d had more in common; now they lived in different worlds. She took a sip of coffee and ate a sausage roll. She sipped some more coffee. She gazed around the room and finally found something to say.

“Did you carve the figures on your looking-glass frame?” she said. As a boy, he had whittled constantly. “They seem so…familiar somehow.”

“They should,” he said with a sudden smile. “I carved it from my memories of the fairies and hobgoblins back home.”

“Fairies and hobgoblins?”

“At your father’s estate,” he said. “Surely you remember Cuff the bedchamber hob, and Heck the buttery spirit, and all the rest.”

“My mother told stories about them,” Andromeda said, nostalgia filling her again. “I must say, I like the way you’ve imagined them.”

Fen frowned at her, his smile fading, his eyes perplexed. “I didn’t imagine them,” he said. “I saw them.”

Andromeda rolled her eyes. “That sounds like something my mother would have said.”

“Because she saw them, too.”

Andromeda began to be annoyed. “Don’t be ridiculous, Fen. She made up stories based on tales she’d been told as a child.”

Fen shook his head. “You saw them when you were small. You saw Cuff and Heck and the others.

We both did.”

“No,” Andromeda said. “We saw movement out of the corners of our eyes and said they were fairies, but we were just playing games.”

Fen’s expression was pained. “You really don’t remember, do you?”

“There’s nothing to remember,” she insisted, wolfing down another cream puff. “As a matter of fact, that happened to me this morning. I had the impression that one of the creatures on the lookingglass winked at me, but of course it didn’t really do so.”

“What a pity,” Fen said.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“That you’ve forgotten. That wink was Cuff’s way of saying good-day to you. He’s somewhere hereabouts. He’s the only one I didn’t have to carve from memory, because he came with me when I left home.” He glanced toward the tin cup and plate by the wall. “He ate the bread and milk I put out, and I gave him the rest of your brandy, too.”

She couldn’t stand any more of this. “Fen, stop this nonsense! We’re in danger from traitors and spies who murder people, and all you can talk about is hobgoblins.”

He went on as if she hadn’t spoken. “I wondered why he came with me when I left, but it’s because he enjoys human company.” He grimaced. “Your father and aunt aren’t his sort of humans. I thought you were, and so did your mother, but evidently you’re not.”

That struck her like a blow. “What do you mean, my mother thought I was. Was what?”

“She had a sizeable amount of fairy blood, so she thought you must have some, too—but perhaps she was wrong.” He paused. “I know I have some. It’s not uncommon for children to see fairies, but I didn’t lose that when I grew up. Not only that, it’s their magic that guides my knives and tools, and inspires me when it comes to furniture design.”

She couldn’t bear it. “Stop it! You’re as—as mad as my mother was.”

“She wasn’t mad, Andromeda.” He sighed. “And whether or not you see the fairies, they’re still here.”

She put her hands to her ears and shut her eyes. After all the chaos of yesterday, this was too much. When he said and did nothing, she opened her eyes again. “Why did she discuss me with you?”

“Who else was there to speak to? Your father and aunt, although worthy people, wouldn’t have understood. They already found her far too strange.”

This was true—but it was because Mama’s mind was unbalanced.

“She knew I cared for you,” Fen said.

His eyes were kind but dispassionate; his use of the past tense meant that he didn’t care anymore, except perhaps as an old friend. Why couldn’t she become accustomed? Every single reminder hurt.

“You believed in them at the time your mother died,” he said. “She gave you that heart-shaped locket, didn’t she?” It still hung at her breast, but she resisted the urge to clasp it in her hand.

“I was nine years old. I believed in many foolish things then,” she retorted. Such as magic, but a household run by her aunt was no longer vibrant with promise or belief in anything much at all. And then, when she was seventeen, Fen had destroyed what little belief remained. She didn’t try to keep the bitterness from her voice. “I learned soon enough what utter nonsense it all was.”

He watched her, head cocked to one side, as if she were some strange, incomprehensible creature.

“As a matter of interest, when did you stop believing?”

How dare he ask such a personal question? “What business is that of yours?”

“None, I suppose.” He shrugged and stood. “Stay away from the windows. I’ll see if my valet has found you something to wear.” He took the last of the beignets, set it on a saucer, and left it on the floor by the wall.

As if prying into her business wasn’t enough, now he was mocking her. Did he seriously expect her to believe that a hobgoblin would eat the beignet? Anger stirred and grew within her. “If you must know, it was at the same time I gave up other foolishness, such as believing in love!”

Fen stared at her, his expression incredulous. He left the room, slamming the door behind him.

By what right was he upset? Not content with playing stupid games with her, did he really not remember what he’d done to her five years ago?

About the Author: Award-winning author Barbara Monajem wrote her first story at eight years old about apple tree gnomes. She published a middle-grade fantasy when her children were young, then moved on to paranormal mysteries and Regency romances with intrepid heroines and long-suffering heroes.

Barbara loves to cook, especially soups, and is an avid reader. There are only two items on her bucket list: to make asparagus pudding and succeed at knitting socks. She knows she can manage the first but doubts she’ll ever accomplish the second.

This is not a bid for immortality but merely the dismal truth. She lives near Atlanta, Georgia.

Website: http://www.BarbaraMonajem.com Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/barbara.monajem Twitter: https://twitter.com/BarbaraMonajem

Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/barbaramonajem/

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/ show/3270624.Barbara_Monajem

Fire’s Field The Elementals Series Book 2 Jillian Jacobs Book Description: Bound by a dark enchantment, only an elemental flame can light the way.

Vengeance Forged in rage and sorrow, a dark witch’s spell travels down her ancestral line to Violet Levina. Enchanted with the power of the entire Electromagnetic spectrum—microwaves, gamma rays, radio waves, Violet is cursed with limitless energy and the obligation to destroy an insidious creature composed of dark matter.

Justice For over five hundred years, Flint has served as Fire, aiding Earth’s environment and its people as one of four Elementals. Yet only once in his long existence has he been burned. A flaming redhead ignites the embers of his heart, but he finds her resistant to the heat building between them.

Illumination Knowing she must fulfill her destiny, Violet travels to her ancestral home in Ireland, accompanied by the fiery Elemental. Not fooled by his charms and brazen demeanor, Violet

wishes only to shield him from the coming battle, but can’t deny the flames of desire flickering when she is at his side.

Love While standing together against unrelenting adversaries, false friends, family betrayals, and an underlying seed of darkness, they must burn bright or the ruthless power behind the ancient spell will turn everything to ash.

With Flint as her beacon in a field of darkness, Violet will discover that love holds the most powerful magic of all.

Fire’s Field Prologue Excerpt: They were coming for her.

On the eve of her mother’s 25th birthday, a young witch fought back chills as the sounds of braying bloodhounds echoed through the forest. A single red stroke, mixed with the faintest purple, lit the darkening sky, as night, along with death, crept closer.

At the banks of River Nore, Sorcha rocked back and forth, tears of innocence-lost escaping down her cheeks. Heart splintering, she searched her memory for a spell to ease her mother’s torment. With her hands locked in the fabric of her mother’s woolen dress, she chanted pleas to the Goddess Isis to hear her cries and heal her mother.

To no avail.

The only answer came in the form of the demon’s sickness dripping from her mother’s mouth in a sludge of grimy gray mud.

Fear unlike anything she’d ever felt iced her heart, as once more she begged, swore her very life in exchange for the continued beat of her mother’s heart.

A piercing pain shot through her overburdened mind as the beast fought to break through her mental shields. Weakened by her angst and un-tested youth, she left a crack exposed, and the beast slipped in. Squinting her eyes closed, her entire body shaking with the will to deny the sick beast entrance, she couldn’t prevent his foul words from seeping through.

“Your mother paid for her defiance, for her inability to accept this gift only I could give her. Look at you simpering and shaking, if you weren’t so weak I’d use you, but no matter, I’ll be back.”

Drained from holding back the tempest, Sorcha let loose true sobs for the loss of the deepest love of her life, her solid fortress during every storm, the lyrical voice singing away her nightmares. Ignoring her drenched skirts, she released all her torment against her mother’s breast, barely catching the beat of her mother’s weakening heart between each aching moan torn from the depths of her soul.

No one came to her aid. No one soothed her broken spirit.

The sounds of the hounds drew closer, their howls a mad cacophony in her surreal world.

The yellow-glow from fire-tipped sticks, created a mystical glow in the woods before her.

Snaps and cracks of branches reverberated across the forest as the frenzied townspeople advanced to accuse and convict one of their own—a witch.

About the Author:

In the spring of 2013, Jillian Jacobs changed her career path and became a romance writer. After reading for years, she figured writing a romance would be quick and easy. Nope!

With the guidance of the Indiana Romance Writers of America chapter, she’s learned there are many "rules" to writing a proper romance. Being re-schooled has been an interesting journey, and she hopes the best trails are yet to be traveled.

Water’s Threshold, the first in Jillian’s Elementals series, was a finalist in Chicago-North’s 2014 Fire and Ice contest in the Women’s Fiction category.

Jillian is a: Tea Guzzler, Polish Pottery Hoarder, and lover of all things Moose.

The genres she writes under are: Paranormal and Contemporary with suspenseful elements.

Website: www.jillianjacobs.com Twitter: https://twitter.com/GreenMooseProd

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Jillian-Jacobs/737689872920933

Why Dragons?

So why are dragons so freaking HOT? Funny question coming from a writer of an entire world based on a dragon hybrid race. At the RT Convention in May, I spoke with a bookseller who happened to pick up my postcard on WAKING THE DRAGON, and she thanked me profusely because her customers just couldn’t get enough of dragons. I asked some of my besties in the book world this question and here’s what they said.

Sarah Hegger said, “Power and magic.” A.S. Fenichel—“Muscular and fierce.” Gemma Brocato—“Even when they’re being soft as sin, they are all hard-edged and fierce. Kristi Rose hit the nail on the head (which was EXACTLY what I was thinking) in her reply that dragons “are the ultimate alpha.”

I completely agree, ladies. He will burn an enemy alive for taking his most precious treasure. In dragon romance, that means his woman. And if you thought lions were king of the jungle…puh-lease. Move over, kitty cats. The dragon is the true king of all beasts. As my friend Kristi also said, “their strength is intoxicating.” As swoony romance readers (and writers) we want that man who can smite our enemies, who will protect us to the death, and who will love us with a fierceness that is unparalleled. I do believe my Morgon men (half-dragons) fit this bill. But perhaps you can be the better judge.

So, why do you think dragons are so hot? I’d love to hear what you think.

Waking the Dragon Vale of Stars Book One Juliette Cross Genre: Urban Fantasy Romance Publisher: Kensington Publishing Date of Publication: June 9, 2015 ISBN: 978-161650723-7 ASIN: B00ONTR98A Number of pages: 288 Cover Artist: Valerie Tibbs Book Description: The Gladium Province is on the verge of civil unrest as humans and Morgons, the dragon-hybrid race, clash once more. But amid disorder can also arise passion…

When the bodies of three human women are discovered in Morgon territory—with the DNA of several Morgon men on the victims—it’s just a matter of time before civil unrest hits the Province. But for ambitious reporter Moira Cade, it’s more than just a story, and it may mean risking her own life.

Descending into the dark underworld of Morgon society, Moira is paired with Kol Moonring, Captain of the Morgon Guard, for her protection. Fiercely independent, Moira bristles at his dominance, and defies his will at every turn. Yet resistance proves futile when passion flares between them, awakening powerful emotions within both, body and soul. But as the killings continue, can their fiery newfound bond survive an even greater evil—one that threatens all of humanity, Morgonkind, and Moira’s very soul?...

Available at Amazon BN Kobo Kensington

Excerpt: Prologue Tick.

Tick.

Tick.

The beautiful blonde froze.

Silence.

She peered down the darkened corridor of the cellar beneath the Vaengar Stadium. No one.

The Morgon with black hair and black eyes at the bar had told her the restroom was this way. The only sound was the wafting crackle of the torches. The only sight was long shadows cast by flickering flame. An eerie tendril of fear snaked up her spine. Even half-drunk, something primitive warned her of danger, like the innate foreboding a deer senses when the tiger stalks unseen from the trees.

She shook it off, flipped her long hair over one shoulder, and walked on, knowing the restroom must be just around the bend up ahead.

Tick.

Tick.

Tick.

She stopped again and spun around, unable to tell from which direction the sound came.

“Bennett? Is that you?” A hollow echo of her voice reverberated down the empty corridor. “Stop it!

You’re scaring me.” The last came out a faint whisper. A presence—corporeal, malevolent, and drawing closer—plunged her into icy fear. Her pulse quickened. A hiss of wind pressed the thin fabric of her mini-dress to her thighs. The flame on the wall guttered to nothing, then relit anew.

Tick.

Tick.

Directly behind her. She whirled and stared up at a massive Morgon man who stood only feet away. A behemoth silhouetted by the flambeau. His pointed wings, half-open and huge, kept the rest of him in shadow, as if the light itself repelled him. She could see nothing but his eyes—amber orbs with serpentine slits, bright as the torch-flame. Her breath hitched in her throat. She fell back against cold stone, scraping her bare shoulders against the rough cavern wall.

He passed near a sconce, the light illuminating hard, angular planes, the ancestral lines of the dragon sculpting his face in stark relief—more beast than man. Her heart thrashed against her ribcage.

“I—I lost my way, I think. I should go.” She gestured in the direction she had come, inching along the wall.

He moved with lethal grace, angling closer in slow, even steps.

Tick.

Her gaze dropped to his large hand. Claw-tipped fingers spread wide, the sharp nail of the index tapping the stone. She bolted left, only to find a wall of six Morgon men blocking her exit. They’d materialized out of

the shadows in silent stealth. Unmoving, watching. Backing against the wall, she swiveled her head from those blocking her path to their master stalking closer.

“What—what do you want from me?” Her voice cracked, primal fear ripping through her gut.

By now, she’d reached the pinnacle of terror, petrified in place. Tangible evil seeped into her skin as the sinister creature loomed, enveloping her in his shadow. Something screamed for her to run, while a compelling power rolling from the beast kept her pinned in place. It was as if his very presence demanded obedience, subservience.

The beast braced one arm next to her head, her panic filling up the confines of their space. He inhaled a deep breath, drinking her fear in like the sweetest nectar.

“Will she serve, my lord?” A voice of authority from one of the Morgons in shadow—sultry but edged like a razor.

Her chest rose and fell, drawing the beast’s gaze. He leaned closer, trailing one claw lightly over her swelling breasts. Viper-swift, he clamped her mouth with his other hand, stifling her screams, and continued his exploration of her naked skin with the blade-like nail. Her rapid pulse beat frantically at the base of her neck.

“Perhaps.” One word, grating and broken. The voice of a monster.

He snaked his claw across the bottom of her throat, then down the line of her cleavage, pressing just enough to scrape the skin, a thin line of red rushing to the surface. Keeping her immobile with his crushing weight, he scraped a drop of blood from her breasts. He opened his mouth, revealing a row of sharpened teeth, the canines most prominent. Reeking of menace and power, he licked the tip of his claw.

“Perhaps.”

His voice fell to a raspy whisper. A rumbling growl rattled her bones. A flash of flame and shadow and all was black.

About the Author: Juliette calls lush, moss-laden Louisiana home where the landscape curls into her imagination, creating mystical settings for her stories. She has a B.A. in creative writing from Louisiana State University, a M.Ed. in gifted education, and was privileged to study under the award-winning author Ernest J. Gaines in grad school. Her love of mythology, legends, and art serve as constant inspiration for her works. From the moment she read JANE EYRE as a teenager, she fell in love with the Gothic romance--brooding characters, mysterious settings, persevering heroines, and dark, sexy heroes. Even then, she not only longed to read more novels set in Gothic worlds, she wanted to create her own.

Juliette is a multi-published author, including her Nightwing series with Kensington Publishing and The Vessel Trilogy with Samhain Publishing.

Website: https://www.juliettecross.com/ Amazon Author Page: http://www.amazon.com/Juliette-Cross/e/ B00MQ18Z1W/ Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/juliettecrossauthor Twitter: https://twitter.com/Juliette__Cross Pinterest: http://www.pinterest.com/crossjuliette/ Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7795664.Juliette_Cross Newsletter: http://eepurl.com/XeKIn

What inspired you to become an author?

I’ve been writing stories since I was a child. I’ve been published since I was nineteen, although I wrote exclusively for newspapers and magazines until twelve years ago, when I made the transition to fiction and completed my first novel. I published erotic romance under another pen name for several years with publishers whose names you’d recognize, before making the switch to mainstream stories as Adele Downs.

Do you have a specific writing style?

Like most authors, my writing style has changed over the years and is, I hope, evolving. American English, slang, and idioms are constantly changing, and writers need to stay in tune with those changes, especially when writing dialogue.

Do you write in different genres?

Definitely. Writing styles change, tastes change, and my books include more suspense than ever before. I love the combined tension of romance and suspense. Paranormal elements too. LIP SERVICE has all of those things.

If yes, which is your favorite genre to write?

Contemporary romance is still my favorite, but I sometimes sprinkle my books with paranormal elements. LIP SERVICE and HER IMMORTAL VIKING are good examples.

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

I wrote LIP SERVICE after months of intense stress. A family member had a life-threatening illness that required several surgeries and frequent hospitalizations, including trips to the emergency room after surgical complications. The experience tested us in ways I never would have imagined. When it seemed that a miracle had occurred and my loved one survived, I wrote LIP SERVICE. Writing the book was a release valve. The story is about love and loss, life and

death, holding on and letting go, yet doesn’t lose its sense of humor or the ability to recognize our deep need to love and be loved.

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

Oh yes. I’d love to write thrillers. I read a lot of them. I’ll tell you a secret—I have a completed thriller in my files, but haven’t submitted the novel anywhere yet.

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

The characters in my latest release are always my favorites. They are the hero and heroine commanding my full attention, though I love all the characters in my books.

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

I do have more books in the pipeline with my current publisher, Boroughs Publishing, and am working on other books that are in various stages of completion. For a complete list of my published titles, please visit my Amazon Author Central page.

Lip Service Adele Downs Print Length: 116 pages Publisher: Boroughs Publishing Group Release Date: April 27, 2015 ASIN: B00WT1EA2W

Genre: Hot contemporary romance Book Description: Getting Between Jack…

Orphaned at a young age, Legs Anderson owes her Aunt Ada everything. The stoic old lady raised her, and Ada’s warnings about men— and the Harris boys in particular—have stuck, even after her death. Of course, that could be because Ada stuck around, too. …And His Legs Patience is not one of Jack Harris’ virtues, and he’s waited too long to start a life with the woman he’s loved since childhood instead of them just knocking boots. Now Ada is interfering from

beyond the grave, haunting the old Victorian house she bequeathed to her niece and reinforcing Legs’s fears of commitment.

But Jack won’t give up. No matter what trouble may follow, the house will be renovated, Ada will learn to let go, Legs will put her money where her mouth is… then Jack’ll put his lips everywhere else.

Available at Boroughs Publishing Amazon

BN Kobo

ARe

Smashwords

Teaser Excerpt: "Move in with me, dammit. You’re the most stubborn woman I ever knew.”

Legs topped his coffee cup with fresh brew, easy as you please. “No more stubborn than you, since you keep askin’ the same old question. I have my own place.”

Jack frowned and stabbed his egg yolks, making them run. “Then let me live with you.”

“In my aunt’s house?” Legs asked like he was crazy.

“It’s your house now.”

“I’m trying to fix it up. I have to patch and paint. There’s no room for your things.”

“I’ll help you and then you’ll have plenty of space for me. And my stuff.”

Her ponytail shook with her reply. “Ada won’t like it. She’ll think it’s immoral.”

Jack leaned forward. “You talk about her like she’s still with us. She’s been gone over a year, sweetheart.” His voice dropped an octave and his brow creased. “Don’t you think she’d give in after all this time?”

Legs wrinkled her nose. “No. She thinks you’re a wanderer.”

Jack tossed down his fork. “I own a sporting goods store! I go fishing!”

He touched her hand when she got close enough and drew little circles around her wrist bone with a fingertip. The preschool teachers from Let’s Explore stifled sighs at the next table. “It’s time to let go, darlin’.”

His expression turned earnest. “She raised you, I know. But I want to be with you now. It’s time to let me in.”

“Not if it means letting her go. I’m sorry, Jack. I just can’t do that to her.”

Jack sighed and returned to his breakfast. “We’ll talk about this again tomorrow.”

About the Author: Adele Downs writes Contemporary Romance inside the office of her rural Pennsylvania home. She is a former journalist, published in newspapers and magazines in the USA, UK and Caribbean.

Adele is an active member of Romance Writers of America and her local RWA chapter where she serves as pastpresident. She has written several articles for RWR magazine (Romance Writers Report), and she has presented workshops for writers.

When Adele isn’t working on her current project, she can be found riding in her convertible or reading a book on the nearest beach.

Website: www.adeledowns.wordpress.com Facebook: www.facebook.com/authoradeledowns Twitter: www.twitter.com/Adele_Downs

Tsu: www.tsu.co/Adele_Downs

Naughty In Nature A Collection of Outdoor Erotica

By Roxanne Rhoads

Available at Amazon Book Description: Eight erotic tales of love in the great outdoors Naughty Little Forest Nymph Logger Sam encounters more than he bargains for when he finds himself up against a group of tree hugging environmentalists, intent on saving the trees he’s due to cut down. Cassie, the free-spirited wild child who has chained herself in protest, finds herself unexplainably drawn to him, despite her initial disgust of his work, and the two discover they have more in common than they first realized – leading to an erotic and heated attraction neither of them expected Restless in the Storm Angie feels the heat in a very unique way and when it storms her ache for release is even worse. Now a thunderstorm is coming and Angie’s husband isn’t home to help her through it. She’s going wild trying to wait for him – he almost doesn’t make it in time. Thankfully he arrives home just before the rain starts pouring from the sky and that’s when the sparks really start to fly...

Welcome Spring Tom is scouting a forest area for his land-developer boss when he encounters a beautiful woman naked in the forest performing some kind of ritual. He is intrigued and highly aroused so he hides in the shadows watching her with complete fascination. Ardwinna, the Earth witch and protector of the land,

knows Tom is watching and takes extra delight in his arousal as she performs her spring fertility ritual that includes bringing herself to climax, while he watches. When she invites him to join her, he gladly accepts her offer...

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 is 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?

Against the Wall: His & Hers Flash Fiction by Anna Durand Hers Adam captured her wrists and pinned them above her head. Pressed to the cold wall, Mel stared into his molten caramel eyes, entranced by her best friend, the only man she'd ever loved.

"I can't wait anymore," he rasped.

"Then don't." Her body thrummed with need. When he slid his hot tongue around the shell of her ear, she shuddered.

He yanked up her skirt and plunged inside, thrusting with a relentless rhythm, his hands on her exposed bottom, arching her into his thrusts. His climax pulsed inside her, and she shattered around him.

"You're mine," he murmured.

Oh yes.

His Adam pinned Mel's wrists above her head. He should've confessed how much he loved her, needed her. He shouldn't be taking her against his living room wall, but this aching hunger for her drove out reason.

"I can't wait anymore," he rasped.

"Then don't."

He slid his tongue around the shell of her ear, devouring her sweetness. Her shudder broke his willpower. He yanked up her skirt, clutched her bare ass in both hands, and pumped his cock into her soft, slick heat again and again. His climax ripped through him, as hers pulsated around him.

"You're mine," he murmured.

c

Dewdrops and Decadence A Collection of Erotic Poetry Roxanne Rhoads Publisher: Bewitching Books Release date: March 3, 2015 ASIN: B00SQ87E9S Book Description: Sexy, sultry, seductive...this arousing collection of erotic poetry will delight your senses and stimulate your mind.

Ranging from soft and sensual to explicitly erotic, lovers of erotica are sure to find something to tempt and titillate.

Flip through the pages with a lover or enjoy them alone as naughty bedtime reading.

The Garden of Sensual Delight The warm summer breeze whispered sensual secrets to the leaves on the trees Pleasure grew like wild vines climbing, twisting and entwining in a lover’s embrace Fresh blossoms heady fragrances filled the air Inhibitions peeled away layer by layer in the secluded playground Naked I lay before you Heat from the sun aroused my senses causing my soft dewy leaves to unfold in the morning light revealing a hard pink bud ready to bloom Parting my petals you tasted my nectar before burying your stem planting your seeds of passion deep inside me opening me to full bloom in the secret garden of living fantasies

cSex, Love and Aliens Volume 2 Imogene Nix, Ashlynn Monroe, Jaye Shields, and Beth D. Carter

Genre: Science Fiction/Futuristic Romance Publisher: Beachwalk Press, Inc. Date of Publication: June 15, 2015 ISBN: 9781940744803

Number of pages: 185 Word Count: 63,000 Cover Artist: Fantasia Frog Designs COVERT WEBS

by Imogene Nix Power, deceit, and passion. Old enemies, new love, and the future of the entire universe hanging in the balance.

Dria is more than the Ba'Tuan Princess, she's also a highly trained warrior who's been sent to Earth to covertly uncover a plot to destroy the accord between the two species.

Military commander Marcus Vane is scarred and weary. His experience with women has left him afraid of commitment…that is until Dria turns up. Not only is she everything a warrior should be—strong, focused, and honorable—she's also an incredibly beautiful woman.

They must work together to find the Incubi and stop their plans, but one split-second decision changes everything, and now the danger is even more extreme.

Content Warning: contains sizzling sex scenes with a gorgeous human male warrior and a beautiful female Ba'Tuan warrior THE SPACESHIP CAPTAIN'S DAUGHTER

by Ashlynn Monroe Briz will face death to save a race of strangers, but will her pirate's love be enough to save her?

Briz Julius isn't afraid to break the law to save the lives of strangers. Briz insists she can get an important shipment of medicine between worlds without incident. Her family reluctantly agrees to allow her to make the trip in their oldest, smallest vessel. The decrepit ship doesn't look like much, but that's exactly what she needs to get to her designation without attracting attention.

Matek's family was massacred by the captain of the pirate ship, the Heartless. Becoming one of the crew was easy, but remaining silent while the ruthless villain takes an innocent girl captive isn't. Matek has spent years plotting his revenge. Is he willing to throw away his only chance to avenge everyone he loved in order to save the bold and beautiful stranger?

Content Warning: contains sensual love scenes HER CLONE

by Jaye Shields When love sparks between enemies, can it survive?

Angela Raden's last mission to planet US-2 nearly got her killed. The savage beating she'd been subjected to made her wish she had died. And now the military wants to send her back. But Angela will be doing things differently this time around. She'll die before she allows the enemy to touch her again.

Damon is a human clone raised for the purpose of killing, but he's seen enough death to last him a lifetime. With revolution taking over his planet, he remains in solitude, seeking peace amidst chaos. When he meets a tiny slip of a human determined to take on an entire clone army, he can't help but follow her.

Since he'd been in hiding the woman believes he's human, and upon seeing her hatred of his cloned peers, he keeps the secret in order to remain in her company. But when he follows her into danger, will the truth be revealed?

Content Warning: contains strong language, violence, and some very hot sex BOND

by Beth D. Carter A woman who has nothing to lose, and a man with everything to gain.

They had known each other a lifetime ago, but love while serving as slaves to the TEV, the aliens who rule Earth, wasn't something that could ever last. When Freya's family escaped, leaving the only home she'd ever known, she left Kory behind, but she can't forget him.

When she meets him again, Kory isn't the human boy she remembered. He has survived a horrific scientific experiment that has changed him into a hybrid—half human, half TEV. Can she trust this man who has now, essentially, become a member of the enemy?

Content Warning: contains sexual content and some violence Available at Beachwalk Press Amazon ARe Kobo

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A sharp beep drew Dria's attention. The communication console glowed and she reached out, touching the button. "Yes?" "Turana, we've received an encoded transmission for you. The gentleman is most insistent and is using the Omega code." The captain's face betrayed no concern, but in his eyes, she read a hint of panic.

"Connect me."

His face faded away, replaced by another, harsher visage.

"Forgive me, Turana Dria. My name is Commander Marcus Vane, and I am to be your contact on Earth. I've received some intelligence that the Incubi plan to strike when you arrive."

She leaned forward. "I see, and you know this how?"

No matter how hard she tried, the pounding of her blood pulsed faster as interest flared deep in her belly. Her fingers flexed, and she wished for some physical outlet for the strong emotion that filled her. A hiss escaped between her tight lips, and even that angered her. After so many years of training herself to be calm and controlled in all things, how could she allow even that small sign of impatience and anger to escape?

"We intercepted a transmission showing they are aware of the suggested landing sites and times."

Dria frowned at his words. "And so‌" "I have a suggestion that may allow us to circumvent their plans."

Even as she weighed his words, she scanned his face, noting the full lips and cobalt blue eyes.

She told her body not to respond to the unfamiliar pull of fascination, but her physical reaction only grew.

"Tell me." She spoke harshly, and watched the way his mouth thinned at her command. The small bow of his head was the only acknowledgement of subservience.

"Of course, Turana. I propose that we bring you planet-side early. Before they have an opportunity to complete their plans. The airfield is under constant surveillance, which leads me to believe they have inside knowledge of our plans."

"I see." Her short answers and demands sounded almost childish, and she winced inwardly.

"You have read the briefing paper?" His voice cut through her thoughts.

"I‌ Yes." The tactical briefing she'd received left more questions than it answered and anger flared, white-hot. "Contact the captain with your plan, then have him apprise me of the changes." She kept her response brief while her fingers curled with the urge to reach out and trace the planes of his face. Stupid reaction, Dria. Control yourself!

"Of course, Turana. Do you have any queries?" His voice now was melodious, and a flare of heat warmed her belly.

"No. Send the details. We'll make it work."

"Then I shall leave you‌" "Yes. Good day." The screen darkened, and she rubbed her hands over tired eyes. "Aargh!"

Tugging her hands through her long curls didn't help. Instead, yards of material pooled at her elbows, reminding her of the part she was supposed to play. Squeezing her eyes shut didn't help either.

Too many relied on her to save them to get lost in her fears.

Dria squared her shoulders and inhaled a shuddering breath. "I will not fail."

THE SPACESHIP CAPTAIN'S DAUGHTER Excerpt: "As much as I'd like to pass her about, I do know her father. He's a good man. Give her a choice," Blood, the captain of the Heartless, said. "She can be yours, or we can turn her in."

"I want to deliver the medicine. It's worthless, except to the people who are sick. Why are you doing this?" she asked in a groggy tone.

"Brizette Julius," Blood said.

The girl flinched. Her eyes widened a bit. "How do you know my name?" She pulled the blanket securely around her. Matek found himself moving closer to her, as if he could somehow shield her with his body.

"Your father saved me once. I owe him, but this is business. There are people who would pay a lot of money to see that this medicine doesn't arrive. I have several willing buyers waiting. The Talorians should have just given up and moved on. They made their choice to stay."

"They're all that's left of their race!"

"Then, sweet Brizette, they should have been cautious about where they chose to settle," Blood said without any hint of remorse.

"Briz, my name is just Briz. I know you think the money is what you want, but can you honestly look me in the eyes and tell me the deaths of little children won't haunt your nightmares? You have the chance to save an entire race."

Blood threw his head back and laughed hysterically. His wide smile made him appear ten years younger. When he abruptly stopped laughing and sneered at Briz, she took a step back, bumping into Matek. He put a single hand on her bare shoulder. She didn't shrug his touch away.

"Money is the only thing that matters to me, little girl. Grow up. Men like me and my crew would burn the world for a handful of coins. I'll give you a choice—Matek's claim or I'll turn you over to Indra.

Your father's company would never be free to transport here again, but you'll be spared a pirate's touch.

When he tires of you he'll cast you off to be our plaything. What fate do you choose, Briz Julius? We all make choices for our beliefs. What do you value more, your honor or your father's company?"

The girl bit her lip. To her credit she didn't flinch or look away from Blood's hateful stare. She didn't beg or cry.

"I choose to protect my father. Who in the name of the gods is Matek?"

"He's the man with his hand on your shoulder."

Briz jerked out of his touch and spun around. Her lips compressed and her brow wrinkled. The others laughed, but he kept his expression neutral, and he didn't look away until she did.

"Take her and tame her. I like mine docile," Blood said before he began a renewed session of laughter.

Matek scooped Briz up in a smooth motion. Her initial stillness spoke of her surprise, but then she began kicking and screaming. He turned and carried her down the corridor. Tanna and Okthu stomped past him and gave the girl dark looks. They'd hurt her as payback if he wasn't cautious.

Matek's throat tightened. When his people claimed a mate it was for life. There was no changing your mind once you made a public declaration of intent. The pirate code was much different, but a claim had still been made. She was his.

HER CLONE Excerpt: "I always thought that, as clones, they would have been programmed what to think," Angela said.

"Until I landed, I never realized they'd be capable of such emotion, like the hate they carried for us. Fury‌" "Lust." Damon's deep voice clipped, the husky quality sounding bitter rather than playful. Perhaps he was angered over her story she'd revealed to him. Although Damon was still a stranger, Angela realized something deeper ran between them.

She glanced over at him as they hiked on. His eyes were set on the landscape before them as if on high alert so they wouldn't encounter unexpected company once more. The intensity of his gaze and his lethal stride left Angela breathless. She shook it off. "I suppose I thought the clones would be more robotic in nature, stoic, like our own armies at home. They're programmed to do as they're told from the very first boot camp."

Angela screamed as Damon snatched her into his arms and dipped her backward. His face hovered a feather's width away from her own. "Never question this—there is no being on any planet that could not be stirred by your presence."

By the time he finished speaking, her lips were all but begging for his kiss. The heat in his gaze promised she wouldn't be disappointed. He kissed her long and slow, her body melting into his arms.

His hands kneaded her curves gently, making her moan with desire as he stroked the inside of her mouth with his tongue.

The kiss broke, but instead of releasing her, Damon scooped her up and began carrying her.

Her brows furrowed automatically. "We're on a mission, not a honeymoon, Damon."

"My mission is to keep you out of harm's way. We were nearly spotted earlier, we need to lay low." He carried her toward a steep hill. "We'll hide in plain sight atop that plateau. It's small enough we won't be caught unaware, and we can watch for anyone on the ground."

"We don't have time for a field trip."

"You're wrong." Damon never faltered as he began climbing up the hill with her in his arms.

"We have all the time we need, for you won't find what you're looking for. The damage was done long ago."

Angela sucked in a breath, the hurt still burning within her chest. "Aren't you a ray of sunshine?"

She watched the hill slowly pass beneath Damon's feet. "I can walk, you know."

"I know." He cast her a sly grin. "I've never had something I've cherished to hold in my arms.

Now I'm reluctant to let it go."

Angela raised a brow. "Jungle fever, eh?"

Damon took several long strides and soon they arrived on top of the small plateau. He laid her on the ground, a primal glint in his eyes and a smile on his lips that sent a jolt of electricity through her body. "A fever indeed."

BOND Excerpt: He completely surprised Freya when he bent his head and kissed her. His firm lips covered hers, teased them apart until his tongue swept in to dance with hers. This wasn't the kiss of a young boy fumbling where to put his hands or how to hold his head. This was the kiss of a man claiming what was his.

He took, overwhelming her, laying siege to everything she was. One of his hands cupped her breast, squeezing it through the cotton shirt to flick across the nipple.

She moaned. The sensations were so new, so raw, that he took her breath away. Freya didn't know what to do, so she went with what her body demanded and surged up, undulating her hips and thrusting her pelvis against his. The friction was so heady that she did it again, dry humping against him as a coil tightened deep inside.

He suddenly rolled away, settling next to her.

Freya was thrust into shock, her body still craved his weight, his heat.

"We need to leave," he said, panting slightly.

"What?" Her thoughts were completely discombobulated.

He sat up and wouldn't look at her. "It's a long trek back to the mountain."

"Wait! You just kissed me."

"And you just let me."

They stared at one another and all sorts of recriminations swarmed through her body. How could she kiss an alien? Betray her species? And how could she still crave his touch?

"Why did you stop?" she asked, biting her lip. She hated the fact she was so weak.

"Because you deserve something better than a bed of dirt." He sighed and ran a hand through his mop of dark hair. "Besides, we just found each other again. It's been thirteen years, Freya. We need to learn about each other again, not to mention the fact I want you to believe that I am Kory."

About the Authors IMOGENE NIX Imogene Nix is an author, a wife, and a mother as well as running a bookshop. When she isn’t busy fulfilling those roles, you might find her cooking, juicing fruit, or talking to the chickens in the backyard.

She is supremely interested in all things science fiction, has a secret crush on a space captain, and loves to snuggle up with her dog, Super Pup, when she’s enjoying downtime with a book.

Website: http://www.imogenenix.com/ Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/ImogeneNix Twitter: https://twitter.com/ImogeneNix ASHLYNN MONROE

Ashlynn Monroe is a busy working mom. She loves her kids and family. Her greatest joy is creating stories to entertain others, and she hopes they bring a little more romance into the world. She’s been writing since

her teens, for her own enjoyment, but decided in her thirties to share her imagination with readers. Ashlynn enjoys biking, camping, reading, video games, and filling her home and life with love. If she’s not working or chasing children, you can find her daydreaming up her next tale of romance.

Website: http://www.ashlynnmonroe.com/ Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/ Twitter: https://twitter.com/ashlynn_monroe JAYE SHIELDS Jaye Shields is a flight attendant by day and romance author by night. Her addictions include reading, travel, and other activities not even a romance writer will confess to. She’s in a committed love affair with her readers so don’t be shy!

Website: http://www.jayeshields.com/ Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/JayeShieldsAuthor Twitter: https://twitter.com/JayeShields

BETH D. CARTER

Beth D. Carter likes writing about the very ordinary girl thrust into extraordinary circumstances, so her heroines will probably never be lawyers, doctors, or corporate highrollers. She tries to write characters who aren't cookie cutters and push herself to write complicated situations that she has no idea how to resolve, forcing her to think outside the box. She loves writing characters who are real, complex, and full of flaws, heroes and heroines who find redemption through love.

Website: http://bethdcarter.com/ Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/bethdcarterauthor Twitter: https://twitter.com/BethDCarter

Do you write in different genres?

No, I just write sexy romance. The hotter the better :) How did you come up with the title for your latest book?

The title came to me before I even wrote the book as I was imagining a woman 747 commercial pilot and all the fun she could have mixing business and pleasure. I think it works don’t you?

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

Good question! It seems a mix of both for me. Sometimes in the case of Cockpit, Bottoms Up, A Vixen in Venice, Academy of Love and the Butler Did It, the title is first. Other times it takes me a while once I’ve written part of the book to get ideas for a title.

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

Live life to the fullest, don’t be afraid to take chances, and never say no to a hunky hero when he shows up on your doorstep wearing nothing but a mischievous grin.

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

I think every writer has a bit of themselves, their experiences and the types of people they may have met along the way in any book they write. How’s that for ‘yes’?

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

Cockpit is part of the Throttle Up Series and yes, there will be more for Bobbi and Mack in the future….Next one in the series is Mile High Club.

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

I love to play tennis, entertain and experiment with recipes. Not to mention I travel anytime I get a chance. Guilty pleasures…yes, plenty. Where to start? Chocolate anything, Lillet on the rocks, cake for breakfast (it’s the icing I love J) with a nice strong cup of tea, binging on HGTV and Coronation Street. The list goes on and one. I’m a very indulgent person!

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

A Vixen in Venice, published by Totally Bound is due out June 9th in print and eBook. It’s a sizzling art caper with one hell of a twist. I hope you’ll enjoy it. Then Bimini Bound, Bottoms Up and Hot as Hades are next.

Cockpit Throttle Up Book One Kate Deveaux Genre: Erotic Romance Publisher: Ellora’s Cave Date of Publication: June 3, 2015

ISBN: 9781419991868 ASIN: Number of pages: 65 Word Count: 30,000 Book Description: It seems turbulence isn’t always caused by weather.

Throttle up as past loves collide…

High school sweethearts re unite forty years later at 37,000 feet.

Fifty eight year old commercial airline pilot, Bobbi Cooper, gets a blast from the past when her high school sweetheart, Mack McConnell, appears as one her first class passengers on her 747 transatlantic flight to London.

Used to being in control at all times, Bobbi is reeling from a crummy marriage and she must learn at Mack’s capable hands that losing control can be oh so sexy.

Available at Amazon BN Ellora’s Cave

Excerpt: There was silence. Then the familiar sensation of her stomach being dragged down, right down to her standard issue black shoes. G force. It was the same every time.

Flicking off the autopilot and taking control of the 747, Bobbi gripped the throttle in her right hand, fearlessly pushing it forward. Slow and even. The plane bounced and shook in the wake turbulence of a passing 767. The muffled sounds of passengers’ outbursts at the sudden drop mingled with the clatter and clang of the galley carts that Bobbi damn well hoped were secured as she’d ordered.

They had to head to higher airspace. Now. Bobbi knew better than to heed the shrill rapid warnings echoing throughout the cockpit to urgently trim to turbulence penetration airspeed.

Scott, her first officer, nodded as they increased power and held the jet seemingly against its will.

Dozens of lights flashed. Air traffic control rattled off a series of confirmations when she pressed the plane higher, the metal creaking as she forced nearly a million pounds of steel and its occupants upward.

Pushing the throttle hard, Bobbi knew smooth air was only a few moments away. Under her guidance, the plane jostled and battled its way through the rough air. A sudden bump, followed by another, then the resulting loud gasp from the passengers.

Holding firm at her command, they broke through the rough air into an eerie smoothness as they glided seemingly effortlessly into calmer airspace.

Bobbi exhaled, only now aware she’d been holding her breath. Turbulence was an everyday occurrence for a seasoned pilot like herself, but this had caught her off guard. A heady mix of bad weather and the wake turbulence of the other aircraft had left her reeling when she tried to steady the 747 inbound for Heathrow.

Scott turned away to double-check some details with the flight engineer seated behind him. Bobbi wiped a trickle of sweat from her brow when he wasn’t looking. As captain of the immense beast, Bobbi couldn’t let her fellow officers—or any crew for that matter—see her sweat under pressure. And that was becoming more of an issue, since hot flashes were now often brought on not by an adrenaline rush from flying but by Mother Nature.

Bobbi Cooper couldn’t believe she would be fifty-eight next year. W here had the time gone?

She knew damn well where it had gone. First a stepping-stone career in the Air Force and then thirty years flying commercial. Enough to establish her as one of the highest-ranking woman pilots in the country as a 747 captain for Atlantica airlines.

Cockpit is part of the Throttle Up Series and yes, there will be more for Bobbi and Mack in the future….Next one in the series is Mile High Club.

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

I love to play tennis, entertain and experiment with recipes. Not to mention I travel anytime I get a chance. Guilty pleasures…yes, plenty. Where to start? Chocolate anything, Lillet on the rocks, cake for breakfast (it’s the icing I love J) with a nice strong cup of tea, binging on HGTV and Coronation Street. The list goes on and one. I’m a very indulgent person!

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

A Vixen in Venice, published by Totally Bound is due out June 9th in print and eBook. It’s a sizzling art caper with one hell of a twist. I hope you’ll enjoy it. Then Bimini Bound, Bottoms Up and Hot as Hades are next.

Cockpit Throttle Up Book One Kate Deveaux Genre: Erotic Romance Publisher: Ellora’s Cave Date of Publication: June 3, 2015

ISBN: 9781419991868 ASIN: Number of pages: 65 Word Count: 30,000 Book Description: It seems turbulence isn’t always caused by weather.

Throttle up as past loves collide…

High school sweethearts re unite forty years later at 37,000 feet.

Fifty eight year old commercial airline pilot, Bobbi Cooper, gets a blast from the past when her high school sweetheart, Mack McConnell, appears as one her first class passengers on her 747 transatlantic flight to London.

Used to being in control at all times, Bobbi is reeling from a crummy marriage and she must learn at Mack’s capable hands that losing control can be oh so sexy.

Available at Amazon BN Ellora’s Cave

Excerpt: There was silence. Then the familiar sensation of her stomach being dragged down, right down to her standard issue black shoes. G force. It was the same every time.

Flicking off the autopilot and taking control of the 747, Bobbi gripped the throttle in her right hand, fearlessly pushing it forward. Slow and even. The plane bounced and shook in the wake turbulence of a passing 767. The muffled sounds of passengers’ outbursts at the sudden drop mingled with the clatter and clang of the galley carts that Bobbi damn well hoped were secured as she’d ordered.

They had to head to higher airspace. Now. Bobbi knew better than to heed the shrill rapid warnings echoing throughout the cockpit to urgently trim to turbulence penetration airspeed.

Scott, her first officer, nodded as they increased power and held the jet seemingly against its will.

Dozens of lights flashed. Air traffic control rattled off a series of confirmations when she pressed the plane higher, the metal creaking as she forced nearly a million pounds of steel and its occupants upward.

Pushing the throttle hard, Bobbi knew smooth air was only a few moments away. Under her guidance, the plane jostled and battled its way through the rough air. A sudden bump, followed by another, then the resulting loud gasp from the passengers.

Holding firm at her command, they broke through the rough air into an eerie smoothness as they glided seemingly effortlessly into calmer airspace.

Bobbi exhaled, only now aware she’d been holding her breath. Turbulence was an everyday occurrence for a seasoned pilot like herself, but this had caught her off guard. A heady mix of bad weather and the wake turbulence of the other aircraft had left her reeling when she tried to steady the 747 inbound for Heathrow.

Scott turned away to double-check some details with the flight engineer seated behind him. Bobbi wiped a trickle of sweat from her brow when he wasn’t looking. As captain of the immense beast, Bobbi couldn’t let her fellow officers—or any crew for that matter—see her sweat under pressure. And that was becoming more of an issue, since hot flashes were now often brought on not by an adrenaline rush from flying but by Mother Nature.

Bobbi Cooper couldn’t believe she would be fifty-eight next year. W here had the time gone?

She knew damn well where it had gone. First a stepping-stone career in the Air Force and then thirty years flying commercial. Enough to establish her as one of the highest-ranking woman pilots in the country as a 747 captain for Atlantica airlines.

“Perfect,” Bobbi said, switching back to autopilot and settling the aircraft into the calmer and higher altitude.

Scott did as she ordered and tinkered with the gauges, she watched. Once she was sure all was under control, Bobbi unbuckled her shoulder harness and rose from her seat, reassured all was secure.

“Keep her on route—I’m stepping back for a moment. You two got it?” she asked, standing behind her first officer Scott and her flight engineer Neville, the new recruit fresh from a small regional airline.

“Sure, Bob, we got it,” Scott said casually, calling her by the familiar cockpit nickname. “Have them send up some coffee while you’re back there.”

Bobbi buzzed for the flight attendant to open the cockpit door. Standard procedure after 9/11. Bobbi peered out through the peephole. It was Sandy, the flight attendant with a penchant for displaying her ample cleavage by wearing her uniform extra tight, so it hugged all her curves. But it wasn’t only her inappropriate dress that annoyed Bobbi. It was the fact she’d also had fucked Bobbi’s husband.

But then again, who hasn’t?

After divorce and company paid-for counseling, Bobbi had come to the realization, and then acceptance, that Sandy was just one on a long list of Greg’s conquests. She did her best not to hold a grudge, but that was a constant challenge, as she ran into Sandy more than she would have liked. Once a century was about what Bobbi could tolerate, although it had been cleared by corporate that they were fine to work together. And they were. Bobbi was a professional. Through and through. She’d fought tooth and nail for her job, and with three and a half years until retirement, with the promise of a cushy pension waiting for her, which she’d only have to marginally share with Greg according to the settlement, there was no way she was going to let Sandy or any of the others put her off her game.

“How’d everyone do?” Bobbi asked Sandy with her cool, composed captain’s demeanor. It was the one piece of her dignity she’d salvaged among the women flight attendants, a good majority of whom had been treated to Greg’s lustful attentions.

Sandy motioned with her head back toward the passenger area. “Fine,” she reported. “Chucker in aisle sixteen and a few more farther back, but they should be fine now.”

Chuckers. That was what they called the passengers who couldn’t hang on to lunch during a bumpy flight. Today had been a doozy, and it wasn’t over yet.

Bobbi noticed with subtle irritation that Sandy’s blouse strained against her perky breasts as she efficiently flicked the switch on the coffee machine. Her bosom jiggled while she scooped ice into a plastic cup and pulled a can of tomato juice out of the galley cart. Shit. Greg really hadn’t had a chance. Big brown doe eyes and a body that wouldn’t quit. The sexy flight attendant was everything Bobbi wasn’t. Not that it mattered now. Greg was on to new, greener pastures. Her ex was consistent she scoffed —his conquests all had one, no make that two things in common— big knockers and tiny, round asses. Men were shit, really.

Why she had let herself be demeaned and embarrassed by his bad behavior for as long as she had, she’d never know.

C’est le vie, Bobbi coached herself as she smiled her most innocuous smile at Sandy.

“Plan for a bumpy ride in to Heathrow—there’ll be some more weather ahead,” Bobbi warned her.

“Might need more bags.”

“Sure thing, Captain,” Sandy said as she snapped open the lid on the can, poured the tomato juice over ice and handed it to Bobbi.

Bobbi nodded her appreciation and gulped down her customary in-flight refreshment. “I’m going back for a few minutes,” she said, handing the empty cup back to Sandy before pulling back the curtain to first class. “And send some coffee in for Scott and Neville before we head down, please.”

Entering the first-class cabin on her way to the pilot’s rest area located between first class and business, Bobbi scanned the spacious cabin. Most of her passengers were now contentedly dozing, oblivious to the formidable battle she’d been waging in the cockpit to keep them in precariously calm airspace. But that was her job—to deliver five hundred souls safely to London.

Sunlight illuminated the plush first-class cabin through a few half-drawn window shades, but not quite to enough to keep the blinding sun from searing into her eyes. Squinting, she walked down the aisle, passing by the first row.

A collective gasp came from the passengers when the plane hit another deep air pocket. Bobbi reached out to steady herself, placing her hand on the headrest of the second row seat for a brief second, smiling reassuringly at the surrounding passengers. She was their pilot, after all.

The passenger in the nearest seat looked up at her.

Bobbi smiled down, then did a double take.

“Bobbi?” the male passenger asked, looking up at her. “Bobbi…Bobbi Cooper?”

“Yes,” Bobbi said, instantly recognizing his features. Her mind was spinning. Those dark-blue eyes. And that unmistakable voice. Velvety and thick. The way scotch felt when it slid down her throat.

She’d know that voice and that face anywhere. Even if it had been forever.

It was Mack.

About the Author: Kate Deveaux is a contemporary, erotic romance writer and die-hard romantic. It was after reading Jane Eyre in high school, that she became hooked on the idea of writing about romance, excitement and drama. Kate has been penning stories, from the sensual to the sinfully sexy, ever since.

A former wedding planner, Kate has always been "in love" with love! She was inspired to transition from writing racy short stories to full length manuscripts after meeting other authors

in the romance world at industry workshops, conferences and events. Originally from England, now resides in the U.S. with her husband. When she’s not writing or reading, Kate can be found on the tennis court—yes, there’s even "love" in that game too!

Author website: http://www.katedeveaux.com Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Kate-Deveaux/349294291841235 Twitter: https://twitter.com/KateDeveaux

Pinterest: http://pinterest.com/katedeveaux Google Plus: https://plus.google.com/104114173171800541171/posts

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/list/7126956.Kate_Deveaux Street Team Kate’s Kittens: https://www.facebook.com/groups/1561963064047158/

Deacon Starkis Family Book 1 Cheryl Douglas Genre: Contemporary Romance Date of Publication: June 15th, 2015 Number of pages: 158 Word Count: 74k Cover Artist: Fantasia Frog Designs Book Description: When Deacon Sarkis sets his sights on the gorgeous young model gracing the pages of his glossy catalogue, he knows he has to have her. One problem. She’s not available. But that won’t stop Deacon. He’s a man used to getting what he wants and he wants Mia. Mia is stunned when she receives an email from the elusive billionaire who owns the lingerie company she models for. He tells her he’s intrigued. He’s not the only one. But she knows she’d be a fool to throw away an eight year relationship for a brief affair with the head honcho. He doesn’t do relationships and she doesn’t do casual sex. It seems they’re at an impasse.

Who will come out on top in this battle of wills? The dominant one or the woman intent on teaching him the meaning of submission?

Book Trailer: http://youtu.be/QxVASAZvtqQ

About Author:

the

When one door closes, another one opens. I closed the door to my business for the last time in 2011, which left me with a decision. What now? Find another location and move my nutrition business, go to work for someone else, or take a chance on my dream? I chose the latter and I’ve never looked back!

I’ve always loved reading and writing, but it wasn’t until I jumped in with both feet and decided writing would be my career, instead of just a hobby, that my muse woke up from her deep slumber.

It was like someone flipped a switch inside my head and stories just came pouring out. At the end of the day, I would often look at the keyboard and wonder, ‘Who the heck wrote that? ‘Cause I’m pretty sure it wasn’t me!’

I don’t write books. I tell stories, or rather, I allow my characters to tell their stories through me. I’m not a plotter, never have been, never will be. Why? Because I have no idea how the story will evolve and it’s not my place to manipulate it. My job is to get to know these characters, figure out what makes them tick, then follow their journey wherever it takes me.

When I’m not writing, I’m daydreaming. Thankfully, I have an understanding husband and son who know I’ll re-join the land of the living just as soon as my muse decides it’s quitting time. I don’t work for myself. I work for her. She’s the boss. And I’m okay with that.

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Taking on Trolls

When I first started writing "In the Halls of the Mountain Troll", I was hit with an array of information. Trolls have been represented in so many books and films that it was simply impossible to know what information I could rely on, and how far. Small and cute? Huge and rocklike? Living under bridges and eating goats? We're discussing creatures from legend here - I didn't want them to be completely unfamiliar, yet at the same time I didn't want to be too tied down with details from all over the place which might even contradict each other. And I certainly wasn't re-writing "The Three Billy Goats Gruff".

I'm fascinated by cryptozoology. The concept of trolls living out in the Norwegian mountains has always interested me, not that I actually believed in it. I have enough difficulty believing in the Loch Ness Monster or Bigfoot. Still, I've read enough copies of the Fortean Times to know that wherever there is a legend, there will be somebody to believe in it. And why not?

I decided, in the end, to make up my own mythology. In my story, there are two main breeds of trolls, both of which live outside the Norwegian areas of population - a necessity, since by government edict their existence is hidden. Some live in forests and are therefore smaller, others live in the mountains and can grow to larger sizes. Some are rocklike, some are hairy. All are terrifying.

And that's where my team come in.

My heroine, Astri, is a member of a crack team of trollhunters, expert in weapons use and all forms of climbing. Having been hunting a mountain troll for months, she is relieved when researcher Kai joins their crew - maybe now they'll finally catch this thing. But her mutual attraction to Kai draws the attention of jealous and brutish teammate Micke, who will stop at nothing to get Kai out of the way, resulting in Astri finding herself alone in the mountains with minimal provisions and only an inexperienced researcher between her and the troll...

In the Halls of the Mountain Troll Tanith Davenport Genre: Erotic romance Publisher: Totally Bound Date of Publication: 29 May 2015 ISBN: 9781784305741 Number of pages: 62 Word Count: 15188 Cover Artist: Posh Gosh Book Description: Astri Ingebrigtsen has no time for romance. A member of an elite team of trollhunters, tasked with controlling and concealing the troll population, her days are too full to focus on anything else, so filled with nightmarish brutality that her nights have become dreamless. So when hot researcher Kai joins the crew to help them in their latest job, hunting a mountain troll, Astri ignores the chemistry between them—something her jealous teammate Micke fails to do.

Astri knew Micke was a jerk, but even she never expected him to send Kai up into the mountains alone to face the troll, unaware that she was asleep in the trailer. Now, trapped in the mountains with a destroyed car, she and Kai need to work together to confront the creature, and their bond grows—but even if they get out alive, can Astri trust Kai with her heart?

Excerpt: Rain spattered the windows of the café, mist making the sunlight bleak. At a table by the wall a man was sitting with a breakfast tray, a small stack of paper on the seat beside him, oblivious to the sideways glances given by the other customers. His messy beard, tousled brown hair and heavy duffel coat gave him the appearance of a slightly cleaned-up vagrant.

“This place is too expensive.” Astri Ingebrigtsen dropped her food on the table and sat down across from him, throwing her dark hair back out of her face. “At this price these eggs should be goldplated.”

“Get Micke to pay.” Otto grunted, looking down as he dug through his paperwork. “He wanted to stop here.”

“I did. He moaned.”

Otto rolled his eyes just as Micke appeared beside him, breakfast in hand. Without a word Micke picked up the papers then dumped them unceremoniously on Otto’s tray before sitting down with his own.

“Paying for Lise’s too?” Astri asked casually.

“Get lost,” Micke snapped.

As Lise joined them with her own food, Astri turned her attention to her breakfast, smiling to herself. Micke was so easy to wind up.

required travel, but try as they might, it was impossible to keep them properly warm inside, even with the help of space heaters and extra blankets.

And this had been a long job. Traveling every day, out hunting every damned night. She was beginning to think it would never be over.

Otto was spreading a map out on the windowsill, eating his svele one-handed as he ran a finger along the road markings. The shrill ring of a mobile phone cut through the air and he cursed, dropping his fork and burrowing his hand into his coat pocket.

“Otto here.” He paused. “Not yet. We left Trondheim this morning.”

Astri exchanged glances with Lise. This sounded important.

“We should get there around two. We’ve booked ahead. Tell him to wait in our cabin.” Otto hung up the phone and eyed Astri and Lise, who looked back at him innocently.

“That was Gunther. Our new addition will be meeting us in Orkanger.”

“What did you say his name was?” Lise asked through a mouthful of bread.

“Kai. Kai Amundsen.” Otto glared at Micke, who had let out a dismissive snort. “Enough, Micke.”

“We don’t need more people.” Micke twisted in his seat to face Otto, his mouth twisted in disgust. “Too many of us attracts attention. And we don’t need a greenhorn holding us back.”

“We’ve been over this. We need his research to capture it.” Otto held up a hand to forestall any further response. “This is not negotiable. Eat.” “He’s right, Micke,” Lise cut in. “We’ve been chasing it for weeks. This could mean we finally catch it.”

Micke slammed his fist on the table, making the cutlery jump. “I do not need some college student to tell me how to do my job. When he’s never in his life caught a tr—” “Micke!”

About to snap back at Astri, Micke caught her eye and shut his mouth. Astri hastily scanned the room to see if anyone had overheard.

It didn’t seem like it. A few heads had turned at his outburst, but apparently nobody had picked up on that last dangerous word.

About the Author: Tanith Davenport began writing erotica at the age of 27 by way of the Romantic Novelists' Association New Writers' Scheme. Her debut novel "The Hand He Dealt" was released by Total-e-Bound in June 2011 and was shortlisted for the Joan Hessayon Award for 2012.

Tanith has had short stories published by Naughty Nights Press and House of Erotica. She loves to travel and dreams of one day taking a driving tour of the United States, preferably in a classic 1950s pink Cadillac Eldorado.

Tanith's idea of heaven is an Indian head massage with a Mojito at her side. www.facebook.com/TanithDavenport www.twitter.com/TanithDavenport www.tanithdavenport.com/blog