Tuesday, August 27, 2013

Guest Blogger: Leaping Lanny Poffo


Available in Ebook


Wrestling with Rhyme.
Have a glimpse into the poetic soul of "The Genius" of the World Wrestling Federation.

Excerpt:
HULKAMANIA

When the Hulkster hits the ring
That’s when it hits the fan
A nuclear explosion
From a modern Superman

There never is an empty seat
They line up in the rain
Not even Halley’s Comet
Could make the fans refrain

In the magic of the moment
When the action gets intense
Kids from 6 to 86
Are raptured with suspense

There has never been a hero
Of such magnitude before
He’s been the champ for three years now
And here’s to many more!


The Living Legend
Once upon a wrestling ring
But not so long ago
Mr. Bruno Sammartino
Was the only name to know

He stood up to Buddy Rogers
And then “nature boy” went down
Less than 60 seconds later
Sammartino wore the crown

He’s the real “Italian Stallion”
That’s a fact you can’t ignore
His career had more success
Than Rocky I, II, III, and IV

The Living Legend lives again
For every single fan
He’s on the microphone each week
Right next to Vince McMahon


Brutus the Barber

Just look at “Luscious Johnny V”
You know why he’s a flop?
His “Dream Team” has to pay their dues
At “Beefcake’s Barber Shop”

Sunday, August 25, 2013

Guest Blogger: Katalina Leon










Lord Griffin’s Prize

Katalina Leon

Part of the Emerald Isles Fantasies series

An Irish warlord under a witch’s enchantment…

Tullamore Castle Ireland is an enchanted place where

the unexpected happens. Phantom lovers materialize in

haunted beds and a lonely griffin patrols the ramparts

waiting to reclaim its mate. And that’s just the

beginning.

For the adventure of a lifetime Maeve de’Burgo visits

Tullamore to study genealogy. Through a magical act

and time travel she becomes embroiled in a dangerous

medieval romance and the unfinished life of her

ancestor. Maeve gets thrown back in time to be

captured, ravished and cherished as a war chief’s prize.

Ronan O’Griofa is a griffin-shifter, the most loyal of

creatures. He’s been trapped in limbo as the avenging

guardian of Tullamore since 1332 AD and longs to be

free. When the soul of his wife returns to the castle he’s granted the privilege of becoming a

man for one day to be her lover, win her heart and remind Maeve of a bond strong enough to

EXCERPT

Please choose only one excerpt.

Excerpt One:  Chapter one

Maeve placed a gloved hand on the golden door handle of the Tullamore Castle Hotel and pushed. The

glass door resisted against the vacuum of a blustery gust. The short but stormy walk from the cab to the

curb had left rain sheeting from her umbrella and tall black boots.

She bore down, gave the door a firm shove and watched in awe as it swung open onto a timeless realm

entrenched in equal parts modern luxury and dour medieval grit. Above the entrance a time-ravaged,

iron-studded medieval shield bearing the image of a griffin held a place of honor between two Victorianera crystal sconces, punctuating the contrast of a far-reaching past.

Maeve was too tired to care that she was tracking water across the patterned carpet as she ambled into

the elegant front lobby dragging a lopsided piece of rolling luggage. For the past twenty-four hours she’d

roamed airports, engaged in endless desperate bargaining with airline personnel to exchange tickets,

hunted down cabs and texted anyone she could reach to tell them that her international flights and all

her arrangements on the ground had been disrupted by turbulent weather.

The challenging journey from the US to Ireland had left her weary to the bone. Everything that could go

wrong had. As she approached the front desk there was little wonder in her mind why the word “travel”

had its roots in the original travail, which literally meant torture.

An attentive middle-aged woman, with red hair swept away from her stark face, stepped from behind

the carved baroque counter to greet her. “You must be Maeve Clark. We received your message. I’m so

sorry you’ve had such a difficult time getting here.” The woman reached for Maeve’s luggage. “Let’s get

you signed in so you can rest.”

The woman glanced out the front entrance as the cab that had brought Maeve turned and drove away

in the pouring rain. “I don’t see anyone else out there. Is Mr. Clark with you?”

“What time is it?” Maeve fought the impulse to rub her eyes with the heels of her hands and grind what

little mascara still clung to her lashes onto her cheeks.

The woman smoothed the lapels of her prim navy suit. “It’s 1:11 a.m.”

“Oh god. I’m so disoriented I thought it was earlier. By the way, I’m no longer Maeve Clark. I made the

reservations last year before I divorced. Didn’t I update you on the name change?”

The woman’s gaze lingered on the prominent wedding ring on Maeve’s left hand. “No name change was

mentioned, but we have a beautiful room waiting and we’re pleased to have you visit with us, Miss...?”

The woman looked elated. “You’re a dé Burgo? Of course, now it all makes sense! Oh this is wonderful,

and so appropriate. I’m certain you are aware that the ancestral founder of Tullamore Castle was Lord

dé Burgo?” The woman clasped Maeve’s hand. “My name is Áine Byrne. I’m the current owner of

Tullamore Castle and if I’m not mistaken, you and I are distant relations.”

“You’re the castle owner? I’m so happy to meet you, Miss Byrne.”

“Call me Áine. I’m simply thrilled to have a dé Burgo under our eaves again!”

Maeve was dumbfounded by the woman’s intense enthusiasm for her maiden name. “I’m surprised to

see you working the front desk at this hour.”

“I’m a hands-on owner and a notorious insomniac. Night is when interesting things happen at

Tullamore. I like seeing everything and everyone who comes through the front entrance. Hospitality is

my business and I enjoy being hospitable.”

“Thank you, Áine.” Maeve was barely able to manage a smile in her exhausted state. “From the outside,

the castle is so dramatic, very picturesque. I’m certainly looking forward to seeing my room.”

“Of course you are.” Áine took Maeve’s hint and hurried behind the counter to retrieve a massive

leather-bound ledger with vellum pages. “Because you are a dé Burgo would you please sign the historic

guest ledger?” She handed Maeve an old- fashioned feather quill and a bottle of ink.

Maeve sighed as she accepted the quill and ink. Despite her interest in all things historical, she had no

experience writing with a quill and hoped she wouldn’t make a mess of Áine’s lovely old ledger with an

inevitable clumsy ink splosh on the creamy page.

Áine seemed to read Maeve’s mind. “It’s not difficult. Simply dip, swipe the quill on the rim of the bottle

and write far more slowly than you think you should.”

Maeve dipped the quill and sketched her name across the velum with shaky, scratchy strokes that

required several dunks into the ink.

“Lovely.” Áine gazed at Maeve’s signature and set the ledger aside to dry. “By the way, the room you

requested is not available. We had a slight accident with some workmen the other day and the room

you reserved will require refurbishment.”

Maeve groaned in disappointment. “The cheerful little yellow room overlooking the rose garden isn’t

“No.” Áine glanced at Maeve sideways. “We’re putting you in the O’Griofa suite tonight. It’s our finest

Maeve gasped. She’d visited Castle Tullamore’s website many times and knew the O’Griofa suite was a

sprawling set of adjoining rooms stuffed with priceless antiques and no doubt far beyond her budget.

“It’s all right.” Áine raised a preemptive palm into the air. “You will not be charged suite rates. The

mistake was on our side and you shall be the one to benefit.”

Maeve exhaled. “Thank you.” A nearly forgotten thought surfaced. “Some months ago I contacted a

Professor Burke to meet me here at the castle and help me to gather information about my family’s

genealogy. I forgot to email him and tell him my flight was delayed. Has the professor contacted you?”

“Yes, I spoke with Professor Burke at some length and now that I know you’re a dé Burgo your research

project makes perfect sense. The dé Burgos have shared a stunning history with Castle Tullamore. Your

family has been here since the beginning.”

“I’ve been told I was named for a great ancestor of mine, Lady Maeve dé Burgo. I’m looking forward to

learning more about her.”

Áine did not appear to be the least bit surprised by this bit of information. “There’s been a mild setback.

I am sorry to say Professor Burke isn’t coming. He called yesterday to cancel your appointment. He must

attend to emergency business in France and will not return for a fortnight. He apologized profusely for

the sudden change of plans.”

“The professor’s not coming?” The energy drained from her. “I’m so disappointed. That was the core

purpose of my trip to Tullamore.”

“Don’t despair.” Áine lifted her chin. “Another professor has volunteered to take his place.”

“Ironically it’s a Professor O’Griofa. He too claims a strong ancestral connection to Tullamore and has

enjoyed a long association with the castle. Isn’t that an interesting coincidence?” Áine’s gaze sharpened.

“Professor O’Griofa is considered the premier expert on Castle Tullamore, so it goes to show that

tiny setbacks and substitutions can often be wonderful boons. I’m sure the change was for the best.

Tullamore’s just that kind of place. One must expect the unexpected.” She reached for a brass skeleton

key dangling from a hook. “We use an old-fashioned key for the O’Griofa suite. Come with me and I’ll

show you to your room.”

Maeve followed Áine down a long corridor lined with gilt-framed oil portraits of the castle’s many

occupants. They passed a staircase and approached an antiquated- looking iron-cage elevator.

“We’re going to take the lift.” Áine took hold of the iron filigree door and struggled to wrench it open.

“This door can be so stubborn.” She gave the base of the door a brisk kick with the heel of her shoe until

it opened. “Ah, there we go. You’re not claustrophobic or easily startled by screeching metallic sounds,

“No.” Maeve gazed longingly toward the staircase.“Don’t worry, the lift is in excellent working condition.

Maeve lingered at the threshold. “How is it odd?”“It’s haunted and there are a few other peculiarities.”

“Like what? I would think haunted is peculiar enough.”

“Oh there’s much more.” Áine stepped into the lift, pulling the rolling luggage with her, and motioned

for Maeve to follow. “Get in and I’ll tell you about its many eccentricities.”

Maeve felt her face blanch as she stepped inside the unsound-looking lift.

Áine slid the rattling door shut and pressed a button. The lift lurched with a grating noise and rose to the

thumping whir of unseen gears and pulleys.

Maeve gulped a nervous breath. “I’ve never been in a lift like this.”

“You certainly haven’t!” Áine grinned with pride. “It’s one of a kind. I’ve had guests swear the lift

delivered them into another time and place. Can you imagine that? A few bold souls have even claimed

to encounter entities haunting the lift that encouraged them to engage in...” She hesitated. “How should

I say this? Amorous behavior. Their actions were quite spontaneous and uninhibited, but I strongly

suspect they didn’t do anything they didn’t already want to do.”

“Oh my.” Maeve laughed. “And they blamed the lift?”

The lift screeched to a jolting halt. Áine drew the door open. “We’re here.” She motioned for Maeve to

exit. “The O’Griofa suite is at the end of the corridor.”

(Just wait until Maeve sees the handsome portrait of Lord O’Griofa. She’s in for trouble…)

Lord Griffin’s Prize is part of the Emerald Isle Fantasies book series and is available now from Ellora’s

Cave. Be sure to check out the entire Emerald Isle Fantasies books series. It includes lots of talented

Ellora’s Cave authors and loads of steamy, Irish enchantment. You can’t go wrong!

Jennifer LaRose “Phantom Mischief”

Rebecca Royce “Crimson Lust”

Dena Garson “Ghostly Persuasion”

And much more to come…

http://www.ellorascave.com/series/emerald-isle-fantasies.html

(In this scene Maeve has been in the O’Griofa suite for less than an hour, but she’s already

become infatuated with Lord O’Griofa’s portrait, traveled back in time to a castle under siege,

released the pain of a failed marriage and hallucinated that a griffin is walking the castle

grounds. It’s been a very eventful night. She’s exhausted and jetlagged. When she climbs into

the notorious O’Griofa “griffin bed” things really heat up.)

…She walked around the room, making sure the door was locked and switching off the few

lights still lit. The fading red embers of the fire glowed. The fire’s soft illumination was lovely

and provided just enough light to see. An errant sliver of moonlight cut across the room and lit

Lord O’Griofa’s portrait.

Maeve pulled the covers back and climbed into the massive bed, which could have comfortably

slept several adults. She gazed up at the silk canopy. The viridian curtains surrounding the bed

were woven with a subtle pattern that suggested to her tired eyes the faintest hint of feathery

She noticed that the bed curtains could be drawn around the bed to either block light or create

an oasis of privacy. She drew the curtains in hopes of preventing the first rays of dawn from

waking her too early. She allowed her head to sink deep into the lush pile of pillows and sighed

with pleasure that the bed felt as good as it looked.

She stretched across the crisp sheets with her eyes squeezed shut, wishing she had the energy

or will to take off the bulky bathrobe, but before she could rouse herself to act she became

aware of the warm weight of a solidly built man pressing down on her.

As if by magic a naked man materialized beneath the bedcovers. His warm skin radiated the

faint but unmistakable scent of musk. He unknotted the robe and pushed the fabric aside,

baring her breasts. A soft sigh crossed his lips.

She made a halfhearted attempt to stop him.

With gentle but decisive action, he took hold of her wrists and slowly slid her arms above her

head, pinning her beneath him.

She gulped a startled breath as he parted her legs with his knee. The sensations were real. The

wet tip of his heavy erection brushed between her thighs. She started to cry out in surprise.

“Hush,” the man whispered. He grazed his lips against the side of her cheek. “Don’t wake,

my love—this is only a dream.” The man’s comforting voice was pure reassurance. “I’ve been

waiting so long for you.”

“Ronan?” She relaxed.

“Who else comes to your bed?” A quiet laugh crossed his lips as if it were a casual joke that

often passed between them. He released his hold on her wrists. “Wrap your arms around me

and make me feel loved.” He leaned close and his warm breath flooded the side of her throat.

“I need you, Maeve.”

A shudder of desire seized her, impossible to deny. The man’s voice was drenched with longing

and coaxed myriad buried feelings to surface. She realized that every lover should plead for

touch with this much conviction, yet so few did.

Dream or not, it had been ages since she’d felt sensations so fiery and she couldn’t resist giving

in. The dream man—Ronan or whoever he was—felt so good that she found herself wrapping

her arms around his broad shoulders and drawing him close. The silky hair on his chest glided

against her breasts. In a moment of uncharacteristic boldness, she reached down, took hold of

his shaft and guided him between her legs. She rubbed the head of his cock against her with

slow strokes, until he was slick and her clit peaked. Without further prompting she allowed him

“Oh Maeve.” A husky groan escaped his lips as he sank deep.

She arched beneath him and twined a smooth leg around his hip, wishing he’d start moving and

pay out on the building excitement he’d caused. She skimmed the length of his muscular back

with open palms before gripping his solid butt and pressing down with a demanding little push

that said “get going”.

He moved with caution.

She tried to glimpse his face in the shadows but saw nothing beyond a vague silhouette. It

excited her to be with a complete stranger. She’d never done such a thing and it really didn’t

matter because this was just a dream. It was so freeing to give in to raw lust. “Fuck me,” she

“What a salty tongue you have.” He sounded amused as he nipped her throat. His lips lingered

on her skin. “You’re sweet as heaven but you talk like a devil.” He took several long strokes,

pumping his hips faster. The muscles of his back coiled and his breath sped. He was big and

solid and the animal strength of his graceful body took her breath away. Each movement was

controlled and decisive and every inch of his body tensed. “I can’t hold back.” A moment later

he bolted into action like a racehorse sprinting. “Sorry, love. This is going to be sweet and

swift.” He gripped her shoulders as his body covered hers and moved with fierce strokes.

The thick shaft of his cock glided against her wet clit at the perfect angle. She lifted her hips

off the bed to intensify the sensation. “That’s good.” She encouraged him to move with her.

She grabbed on to the hard muscles of his butt and pushed down with force. The brisk stroke

of his cock brought her moaning to the edge. “I’m right there.” A beautiful rush of sensations

heated her blood as the easiest, quickest climax of her life carried her away and left her limp

with pleasure. “Ah...”

He lifted Maeve’s thigh higher and sank deep. A quiet growl vibrated low in his throat. He

tipped his head back and arched as he came hard. The man trembled and nearly collapsed

against her, with a dewy sheen of sweat on his skin. He brushed his face against her cheek and

she felt a gritty hint of stubble.

Alarm shot through her. Those details felt all too real. She feared this couldn’t possibly be a

dream. No dream was this vivid. She pushed against his shoulders and tried to get a better look

“Am I crushing you?” He rose on his elbows so she could move and brushed his fingertips

against her cheek. “That was wonderful. I wish I could stay inside you all night, but I can’t.”

A chill shivered across her skin. “Why can’t you?”

“Because it’s not night anymore, it’s morning.” The man evaporated in front of her eyes and the

warm bed covers slumped on top of her with a swoosh as he exited.

Maeve bolted upright and smacked the empty covers with her palm. The man had vanished.

The bed curtains remained drawn and still. Her bathrobe was open and the bedding was

rumpled but beyond that only the faintest scent of salty sweat betrayed that he had ever been

She reached between her drenched thighs with caution and touched. Without doubt a man had

been with her. What the hell was going on?

The quiet scratch of what sounded like claws against the wooden floor made her freeze. She

drew a tense breath, listened with laser focus and heard a soft snort and what sounded like the

padding of heavy paws crossing the room. A noise like an animal snuffling the fire grate made

her blood run cold.

Now she was fully awake and certain this was no dream. Her heart hammered against her ribs.

Beyond the bed curtains, someone or something was moving around the suite.

She drew the bed curtain aside a crack and peered out. The room was illuminated by the faint

rays of an overcast dawn.

Near the fireplace beside the mantel, she saw a large animal the size of a male lion with black

sweeping wings folded behind its back. The creature turned to the side, revealing the lethally

curved beak of an eagle and keen, dark eyes. She gasped in awe and immediately covered her

mouth with her hand.

The creature glanced over its shoulder stealthily, as if it were aware of her presence, and

reached toward the wedding ring she had left as an offering. It picked up the ring with its

hooked beak. The griffin tossed the ring into the air and swallowed it with a quick gulp.

She bit her lip to keep from gasping aloud.

The griffin turned and walked through the heavy wooden door, which posed no physical

barrier. It passed through the locked door with the same ease as if it were walking through fog,

“Oh my God!” Maeve trembled with shock. “What just happened?”

She threw the bed curtains back, leaped off the mattress and ran toward the door while tying

the bathrobe around her waist. She grabbed the doorknob and rattled it. The knob did not

budge and she saw that the door was latched from the inside.

She turned and ran toward the mantel. Her gaze went straight to the clawed feet of the stone

griffin. The wedding ring was gone. She reached out and felt the empty spot with her fingertips

to reassure herself that this moment of utter madness was real. “I’m losing my mind. This isn’t

She focused her gaze with suspicion on the disheveled bed before ricocheting like a bullet

toward Lord O’Griofa’s portrait. Had all that been real too? Had she made love to a phantom?

“Nope. That’s too much crazy,” she said it aloud in a calm voice. There was no way a man from

the distant past had materialized in bed and fucked her breathless with tender gusto. It was a

thrilling but improbable fantasy.

It was more likely she’d been ignoring her true feelings and physical needs for so many

months that she’d gone temporarily nuts. “Strange fantasy men in the bed” crazy was a bad

development. That level of cuckoo should never happen again. It was obvious to her that dire

needs must be addressed. She realized she should buy a vibrator on this vacation and start

Fucking hunky medieval phantoms was without doubt a sign she needed to get off more often

than she had been lately—which was not at all. She was pent-up. This situation simply wasn’t

acceptable. She was a loaded gun ready to explode, for God’s sake. What was next? Would she

throw herself at the first interesting man who crossed her path? In her current wounded-prey

state of mind she knew that would definitely be a mistake. To make sure this type of weirdness

didn’t happen again, a vibrator was a must, and she promised herself she’d get one soon.

Beyond the tall, narrow windowpane, the sun broke through a thick layer of cloud, lighting the

morning sky in brilliant shades of blue and gold.

Maeve smoothed the bed covers. There would be no pretense of going back to sleep. Besides,

she didn’t dare to climb back into that bed until she’d had a sobering cup of coffee and a long

talk with her love-starved libido…

(Maeve dresses and heads downstairs and guess who she runs into walking the castle grounds

dressed in contemporary clothing? Oh yes, it’s very awkward. How can she tell a stranger

that she just finished having sex in her dreams with someone who looks and sounds just like

him…Poor Maeve.)

Lord Griffin’s Prize is part of the Emerald Isle Fantasies book series and is available now from

Ellora’s Cave. Be sure to check out the entire Emerald Isle Fantasies books series. It includes lots

of talented Ellora’s Cave authors and loads of steamy, Irish enchantment. You can’t go wrong!

Jennifer LaRose “Phantom Mischief”

Rebecca Royce “Crimson Lust”

Dena Garson “Ghostly Persuasion”

And much more to come…

http://www.ellorascave.com/series/emerald-isle-fantasies.html

Buy links:

To Be Sent Later

Giveaway

Katalina is giving away two Amazon gift cards valued at $15 each and a pdf ebook.

Code:  a Rafflecopter giveaway

Link:  http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/share-code/

ZTU2MWEzNzQwNjU2YTNmNzMwOGE3ZjViYWI4OTFlOjEx/

Author’s Bio:

 I’m an artist, an author, mother and wife. I write for Ellora’s

Cave, Loose Id Publishing and a couple new publishers to be

announced soon. I try to bring a touch of the mystical and a big

sense of adventure to everything I write because I believe

there’s a bold, kick-ass heroine inside all of us who wants to

take a wild ride with a strong worthy hero.

Website Ellora’s Cave  Loose Id  Amazon  All Romance eBooks

Night Owl Reviews Author Page  Pinterest Facebook


Thursday, August 22, 2013

A Family Curse by K.C. Sprayberry






A curse uttered in 1422 sets two families against each other – each side determined to destroy the other. Now, Zan Courtland, unprepared for the task, must face off against her foe – who also happens to be her boyfriend.

Wednesday, August 21, 2013

Guest Blogger: Deborah Melanie

Childhood Memories

For me, the City of York is a mystical place, where as a child I would enjoy special days out with my mum. We would set off on the coach from Lancashire and travel northwards towards the yellow, light-filled tunnel in Leeds and onwards to the land of adventure.

The Yorkshire Museum Gardens were my favourite haunt; a place to enjoy our picnic and then a chance to play amongst the ruins of St. Mary’s Abbey. I’m sure that by now, it would seem to be a small enclosure, but as a child, I found the space enormous and loved the chance to spread my wings and run across the lush, green slopes of grass.

The Castle Museum houses rich collections. But for me, the Victorian street of Kirkgate was always my favourite spot. The chance to “watch” the candle maker at work, or pas by the coach and horses was always a delight, but most of all I loved the sight and smell of the sweet shop; the most enchanting exhibit of them all.

With city walls to walk over and museums aplenty, I find it difficult to imagine that anyone would be bored by all that York has to offer. For children, who love to explore and adults, who enjoy a rich tapestry of history, I think York is one of the most marvellous places to spend one’s time.

So tell me readers; where is the setting for your happy childhood memories?


Winter’s Spirit.
Available on Amazon
http://www.amazon.com/Winters-Spirit-ebook/dp/B004M18NW0/ref=sr_1_fkmr0_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1377092531&sr=8-1-fkmr0&keywords=winter%27s+spirit+by+deborah+meloni






Blurb:
Winter McAndrew is on the brink of divorcing her philandering husband, Philip, when he dies in a car crash. One year later and with unfinished business; Philip is still earth bound and interfering in his wife’s love life. Trying to make amends isn't always easy when you're dead. Not only has Winter fallen for her old crush, Jack Tobin, but he also happens to be Philip’s cousin. With more complications than a woman needs at Christmas, Winter tries to find peace at her holiday home in The Lake District. However, when she finds herself snowed in with Jack; ghosts, old and new cause quite a stir. Will Winter get her man, or will ghostly Philip put an end to all her festive fantasies?

Sunday, August 18, 2013

Guest Blogger: Denali





Title: Jasmine’s New Love

Author: Denali

Genre: Erotic novella

Publisher: Sunshine Press

Blurb:

The monotony of her life has Jasmine questioning

her every move. It’s not that she doesn’t love her

husband and her kids, she does. It’s just that she

aches for something more. Her every day routine

has grown a tad boring, and she yearns for some

excitement. There must be something out there

that will make her life worthwhile.

The arrival of an unexpected postcard soon piques

her interest. The thought of letting loose, and

having fun draws her in. Her husband won’t be

around, and she’ll be able to explore something

new. What could go wrong, right?

Thrown into a world where inhibitions fly out the door, and things can happen within the blink of an

eye, Jasmine’s life soon takes a different turn. Her new endeavor is the perfect excuse to let her hair

down, and enjoy what she’s been offered. When anything is possible, the opportunity must be taken.

She now has a chance to explore another side of herself, one she never knew existed.

Facebook Website

Monday, August 12, 2013

Guest Blogger: Jerrie Alexander

Blurb:
Sometimes, hiding from danger draws a crowd. Sometimes, hiding can get you killed. 
Stacey McKinney returned to her home town to escape a stalker. When people around her turn up dead, she fears he's found her. Is the maniac keeping his threat by killing off anyone who gets close to her?
A different kind of risk is also in town. The man who broke her heart has also come home. Their attraction is stronger and hotter than ever, but he walked away once. Will he do it again? 
A bullet ended Cash Butler's career as an Army Ranger. His life on his horse ranch is without complications until he hears Stacey is back in town. He was a kid when her dad used his wealth and power to drive him away. He's not that kid any longer.
When Stacey goes missing, a search proves her stalker had followed her to Oak Hill. But he's dead. Who killed him? And who has Stacey?     Buy link

Excerpt:

Focused, Stacey headed across the building on a mission. She skirted the two pool tables, moving faster the closer she got to ladies' room door handle. A chilled raced down her arms. She sensed someone moving in step directly behind her.
A scent stirred something in her memory. Awareness churned through her, warming her skin. Heat rushed to her lower belly. How did her body know to react? She turned to find Cash Butler smiling down at her from under the brim of his black hat.
"Would you look at who I found," his whiskey-toned voice flowed over her skin like caramel over ice cream.
An old familiar zing of desire ricocheted through her nervous system. Twenty-eight was a good year for him. His black hair and stormy gray eyes still framed a chiseled jaw, sharp nose and a mouth made to kiss. Ten years had added a maturity, a road warrior expression to his face.
First loves should never look this good. Never smell this good. And never stand this close.
He leaned down and buzzed his lips across her cheek, liquefying her knees. Blood coursed through her veins, revving her heart rate to race track speeds.
"Hey." Her attempt at casual caught in the back of her throat. "Why aren't you off saving the world or fighting in the war or something?"
"Turns out I'm not bulletproof." His gaze raked over her, settling on her face. "You're looking well."
"So are you." She hated how her body reacted to his nearness. "I need to get back to work. So if you'll excuse me."
"Wait." He stepped between her and the door. "You're the reason I'm here tonight."
She pretended his strong hands sliding up and down her arms had no effect. Truth be told, seismic waves scorched their way to the ends of her fingertips.
"Unless you want your boots wet, you'll leave me alone."
"Then meet me at the Cactus Club tomorrow at two." One corner of his mouth lifted. "You remember how to get there?”
"Sunday is my day for scullery maid duties." Her brain issued a stern warning. His tone of voice said he was glad to see her, but his eyes gave nothing away. Meeting him wasn't a good idea. Unfortunately, her heart wasn't in the mood to listen.
"Since when do you do housework?"
"A lot's changed since..." She bit off the sentence. Confiding in Cash served no purpose.
Letting him touch her had been a mistake. Did she pull away? Nooo. She stood there while his hands traveled down until his fingers twined through hers.
"I'll be there tomorrow at two. I hope you'll come."







Authors Bio:

A student of  creative writing in her youth, Jerrie set aside her passion when life presented her with a John Wayne husband, and two wonderful children. A career in logistics offered her the opportunity to travel to many beautiful locations in America, and she revisits them in her romantic suspense novels. 

But the characters went with her, talked to her, and insisted she share their dark, sexy stories with others. She writes alpha males and kick-ass women who weave their way through death and fear to emerge stronger because of, and on occasion in spite of, their love for each other. She likes to torture people, make them suffer, and if they’re strong enough, they live happily ever after.

The author of HELL OR HIGH WATER, THE LAST EXECUTION, THE GREEN-EYED DOLL, Jerrie and her husband live in Texas. She loves sunshine, children’s laughter, sugar (human and granulated), and researching for her heroes and heroines.

Dark, Gritty and Emotionally Packed Romantic Suspense







The Wild Rose Press has made Someone To Watch Over Me free August 13 to 17th. Jerrie's back list (The Green-Eyed Doll and The Last Execution) are available for .99 from August 9th to 24th

Thursday, August 8, 2013

Guest Blogger: KateMarie Collins

Welcome KateMarie Collins to my blog.

She is giving us a teaser of her new book "Son Of Course"



“Yes, Lu’Thare. We have much planning to do, you and I.” Mialee came around a corner. Disappointment flared in Senyan. Corse continued to mask his true form, using this one to tempt him. After everything Senyan had done for him, allowing Y’Dürkie’s blade to cut him down, Corse still didn’t trust him.
Senyan spoke as the door closed silently behind him. “That’s not my name any more.” The timbre of his voice fell just short of open rebellion. He watched as she walked over to a small table and poured two glasses of wine. Sensuously, she closed the space between them and offered him one of the glasses.


Coming soon!

Find KateMarie's books here:
http://www.amazon.com/KateMarie-Collins/e/B008I67BBE/ref=ntt_athr_dp_pel_1

Tuesday, August 6, 2013

Welcome Chandra Ryan

Welcome Chandra Ryan to my blog today!





Prequel to Bond Betrayed

Izzy has lived between two worlds her entire life—one filled with magic and darkness, the other populated by mundane humans. She was born into the magical world of the Community. But sexy, forbidden DEA agent Jacob belongs to the other. He has no idea her world even exists.

But that doesn’t mean he hasn’t noticed her. They’ve worked together for the past six months, attempting to bring down her drug-dealing half-brother while driving each other crazy with pent-up desire. But now that it’s time to say goodbye, they both find it impossible to let go.

After one passionate night together Izzy realizes her mistake. She can’t bring him into her world. She has to end things before she gets too attached. When he refuses to leave, she must find a way to guide him through the darkness.

Inside Scoop: In this scorching urban fantasy, ink is thicker than blood.

A Romantica® paranormal erotic romance from Ellora’s Cave

Publisher’s Note: This book was previously published elsewhere under this title in 2010, but has been  Prequel to Bond Betrayed






Izzy has lived between two worlds her entire life—one filled

with magic and darkness, the other populated by mundane

humans. She was born into the magical world of the

Community. But sexy, forbidden DEA agent Jacob belongs to

the other. He has no idea her world even exists.

But that doesn’t mean he hasn’t noticed her. They’ve worked

together for the past six months, attempting to bring down her

drug-dealing half-brother while driving each other crazy with

pent-up desire. But now that it’s time to say goodbye, they

both find it impossible to let go.

After one passionate night together Izzy realizes her mistake.

She can’t bring him into her world. She has to end things

before she gets too attached. When he refuses to leave, she

must find a way to guide him through the darkness.

Inside Scoop: In this scorching urban fantasy, ink is thicker

than blood.

A Romantica® paranormal erotic romance from Ellora’s Cave

Publisher’s Note: This book was previously published elsewhere under this title in 2010, but has been

EXCERPT

She’d almost made it to the next section when a familiar face grabbed her attention. He was wearing

tight jeans and a black t-shirt instead of the suit that she’d grown accustomed to seeing him in, but

there was no mistaking his smile. Or his lean, muscular physique.

As if hearing her thoughts, he looked up. His gaze caught hers for a second before he began making his

“A—” Realizing she was about to call him Agent Phinney, she stopped and shook her head to clear it.

“Um, Jacob. This is a surprise.” She couldn’t help but wonder how he’d gotten past the guards.

He smiled rakishly as he ran his fingers through his short black hair. It was a gesture she’d become

endeared to over the past six months. “I know, small world.”

“What are you doing here?” She’d expected to see him, but not until the bust had gone down. And, try

as she might, she couldn’t think of a single good reason for him to be at the bazaar. Admittedly it was

difficult for her to think of anything at all given his proximity. He was so close she could smell the spicy

mint of his shampoo and her arm would brush against his chest if she swayed ever so slightly.

The words snapped her out of her haze. He didn’t seem to notice, though. He was too busy staring

at the voluptuous redhead several people ahead of them whose singed fingertips hinted at fire

That explained security. With someone like her as a date, they’d have let him through, no questions

“Funny, she isn’t what I’d imagined as your type.” Izzy realized that he could never be hers, not really,

but she didn’t like the idea of him being with someone else. Especially when that someone could

manipulate fire. In her experience, pyros were one of the more dangerous types. They tended to run hot

in all things—including their emotions. “She looks kind of dangerous.”

“Although I do go for the dangerous type,” he whispered with a playful wink, “you’re right. She just

happened to be in the right place at the right time—here.”

Hearing his words, a possible reason for his presence became painfully clear. “Wait. Are you checking up

He looked genuinely hurt. “I thought you knew me better than that. I’m here as backup, nothing more,”

He’s human, he’s human, he’s human…The warning echoed softly in the recesses of her mind. But as his

fingers tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear, it faded into silence.

“I couldn’t live with myself if anything happened to you on my watch,” he said.

Buy links:

Ink in the Blood

Authors Bio:

Being from a rather nomadic family, Chandra Ryan loves to travel

and meet people. But she’s found that sometimes, like when you’re

stuck inside because of a good old-fashioned Southwestern heat

wave, you have to make do. Fortunately for her and her loving

family, who don’t like seeing her suffer from cabin fever, she’s found

creating new people and places equally as fascinating. Also, you’re a

EXCERPT
Please disregard any formatting issues that this blog post has caused to the excerpt below.

She’d almost made it to the next section when a familiar face grabbed her attention. He was wearing

tight jeans and a black t-shirt instead of the suit that she’d grown accustomed to seeing him in, but

there was no mistaking his smile. Or his lean, muscular physique.

As if hearing her thoughts, he looked up. His gaze caught hers for a second before he began making his

“A—” Realizing she was about to call him Agent Phinney, she stopped and shook her head to clear it.

“Um, Jacob. This is a surprise.” She couldn’t help but wonder how he’d gotten past the guards.

He smiled rakishly as he ran his fingers through his short black hair. It was a gesture she’d become

endeared to over the past six months. “I know, small world.”

“What are you doing here?” She’d expected to see him, but not until the bust had gone down. And, try

as she might, she couldn’t think of a single good reason for him to be at the bazaar. Admittedly it was

difficult for her to think of anything at all given his proximity. He was so close she could smell the spicy

mint of his shampoo and her arm would brush against his chest if she swayed ever so slightly.

The words snapped her out of her haze. He didn’t seem to notice, though. He was too busy staring

at the voluptuous redhead several people ahead of them whose singed fingertips hinted at fire

That explained security. With someone like her as a date, they’d have let him through, no questions

“Funny, she isn’t what I’d imagined as your type.” Izzy realized that he could never be hers, not really,

but she didn’t like the idea of him being with someone else. Especially when that someone could

manipulate fire. In her experience, pyros were one of the more dangerous types. They tended to run hot

in all things—including their emotions. “She looks kind of dangerous.”

“Although I do go for the dangerous type,” he whispered with a playful wink, “you’re right. She just

happened to be in the right place at the right time—here.”

Hearing his words, a possible reason for his presence became painfully clear. “Wait. Are you checking up

He looked genuinely hurt. “I thought you knew me better than that. I’m here as backup, nothing more,”

He’s human, he’s human, he’s human…The warning echoed softly in the recesses of her mind. But as his

fingers tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear, it faded into silence.

“I couldn’t live with myself if anything happened to you on my watch,” he said.


Buy links:
http://www.amazon.com/Ink-in-the-Blood-ebook/dp/B00EAV3RIC/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1375798743&sr=8-1&keywords=in+the+blood+by+chandra+ryan


Authors Bio:

Being from a rather nomadic family, Chandra Ryan loves to travel and meet people. But she’s found that sometimes, like when you’re stuck inside because of a good old-fashioned Southwestern heat wave, you have to make do. Fortunately for her and her loving family, who don’t like seeing her suffer from cabin fever, she’s found creating new people and places equally as fascinating. Also, you’re a lot less likely to spill your ice tea.


Monday, August 5, 2013

Midnight Falls: The Beginning ~ FREE EXCERPT






Available on Amazon

Chapter One


            The thunder roared like cannons going off on a battlefield. Her vision obstructed by the driving rain, Angel Michael’s couldn't even see the road she had been driving aimlessly for a week. Angel had to get away from him. What was she going to do now? For days that’s all she’d been thinking about. Paranoia kept her looking in the rear view mirror as she drove. He couldn’t be behind her, but something made her look anyway.
            Nightfall was setting in and she had to find a motel. A motel and a new life. Where would she go? What would she do? She pulled into a small truck stop/motel in the middle of nowhere. They had a diner, and she was starving.
            Angel checked into her room and then went over to the diner. She needed a good meal and an even better night’s sleep. She had a long drive ahead of her. She had no idea where she was going, but it had to be far enough away from him that he couldn't find her.
            After eating, she went back over to the motel gift shop to find some clothes. She had left without packing a thing. Angel was a beautiful woman with light brown hair that went halfway down her back. She wasn't too short, but not too tall either. She always seemed to fit in the just right category. She was a nice size 8. She wasn't fat, but she wasn't sickly thin like some of those super models that she saw on the t.v. She enjoyed a double cheeseburger and fries from time to time.
            How she ever got mixed up with the son of a warlock was beyond her.  When she first met Eric Anderson, she had no idea who he was. He was extremely kind to her. She had car trouble one night and Eric stopped to help her. They were inseparable from that moment on. How was she supposed to know what kind of man he was or what his family was like. The secrets, lies, abuse, and crimes were finally too much for her, but once you are in the Anderson family, there is no getting out.
            Angel didn't mean to shoot Eric with the fire ball. She just wanted to get away from him. It was self-defense.  He was going to kill her. In hind sight, she wished she’d killed him.  Once the healer was through with him, he’d hunt her down.
            Angel jumped, pulled from her thoughts by the sales woman at the motel gift shop.
            “Can I help you miss? You seem to be studying that shirt very hard. Can I answer any questions about it for you?”
            Angel looked up in shock. “Oh, I'm sorry. I guess I was in my own little world for a minute. I'm fine. I just need to pick up a few outfits and personal items. I think I can find everything on my own.”
            She continued to shop for a few minutes and then took her purchases back to her room. She didn't have a lot of money, but she had taken a few thousand out of Eric's safe, which made this whole ordeal that much worse. He would want revenge for his wounds and stealing his money. What was she going to do? Angel knew she needed to find a home somewhere Eric wouldn't think to look and she would need a job. But where does a witch who doesn’t want to be noticed find a job?
            Angel took a long hot shower and went to bed. She tossed and turned the entire night and woke up the next morning drained. She drug herself out of bed, got dressed and headed to the diner for breakfast before heading out on the road again.
            Angel sat down at the table and glanced at the menu for a few minutes.
            “Can I take your order?”
            Angel looked up at the waitress staring at her. “I guess just give me two scrambled eggs with a little cheese melted on them, some bacon, and toast with jelly. Thanks.”
            “Would you like anything to drink with that?”
            Angel looked down at the menu again to see what they offered. “I know it's probably strange to hear this early in the morning, but I would really like a Dr. Pepper with my breakfast.”
            “No problem.” The waitress said as she walked off.
            Angel got out her atlas as she waited for her food to cook. She needed a plan. She had left New Jersey over a week ago. She couldn't keep driving forever. She would need to decide on a place and get there fast. She deeply needed to get settled. Her mother told her if she ever got into trouble to find Hunter McDaniels. He was an old friend, and powerful warlock. He would protect her.
            Angel paid her bill and then walked to her car.  Maybe she wouldn’t need to go to Hunter. Maybe she could just hide and be a normal woman instead of a witch. She got in and looked at the map one more time. It was now or never. It was time to pick a destination and a new life. She studied it hard. Where would I like to live? She had decided that she wasn't leaving that spot until she had made a decision. Okay, it's decided. I'm going to Montana.
            She drove for what seemed like forever by the time she crossed the state line into Montana. Now what?  She pulled into the Welcome Center to read about her new state. Angel walked into the office and started picking up every brochure she could get her hands on. Something in that office had to grab her attention.
            “Excuse me. Is there anything I can help you with?”
            Angel looked up to see an elderly man sitting behind the desk. “Not really.” She said. “This is my first time to Montana and I don't really know what I want to do.”
            “Well you’ve come to the right state.” The man told her. “My name is Wes. I've lived here my whole life. It's a great place. What you want to do is go over to the Jenson's Bed and Breakfast. It is the most beautiful ranch house you will ever see. It is worth the two hour drive out there. I will promise you that.”
            “That sounds wonderful. Can you give me directions to it? I would love to go out there.”
            The man jotted down some directions on a piece of notebook paper and handed it to her. “You can't miss it if you follow these directions.”
            Angel headed out of the building with a load taken off her shoulders. At least she had a place to go now. The rest she would figure out in time.
                                        ***
            Angel followed the directions precisely. It was actually quite easy to find. She stayed on the main highway for most of the drive and then turned onto a dirt road, dust clouds billowing out behind her now filthy car. After forty five minutes she reached the driveway.
            At the end was the most beautiful house Angel had ever seen. She couldn't believe it. It was a two story log cabin with a wraparound porch, and, of all things, a lunch bell. I wonder if they actually ring that when it's lunch and dinner time. The place looked like it was straight out of a western movie. It was going to be a nice change from the city life. She stared out across the endless fields. This would be a great getaway for the night, but she still needed to find a job and a house.
            Angel parked the car and walked to the front door. There was a welcome sign hanging on the door that read “Always open. Come in” So she opened the door and walked in. An old woman looked up from sweeping the shiny hardwood floor.
            “Hello, my name's Angel. I was told that this is a great place to stay. Do you have a room for the night or maybe two?”
            “Hello dear. I'm Tanya Jenson. It's nice to meet you. Of course we have room. We always have room.”
            “Great. I'll take a room for a while.”
            Tanya looked at the sadness in that complete stranger’s eyes and felt sorry for her. “Awhile? You’re not sure how long you’ll be staying?
            Angel wasn't quite sure how to answer. “Well, I need to find a job and a place to live. Moving here wasn't completely thought out and planned very well.”
            Tanya had a soft spot for troubled people. “Well, Angel, You’re in luck. I’m currently looking for a cook for the bed and breakfast. The pay isn't great, but it includes free room and board so that makes up the difference if you're interested.”
            Angel couldn't believe what she was hearing. This was like an answer to her prayers. It would be perfect. “I would love that, but you don't even know me. Why are you doing this for me?”
            Tanya looked over at her with a smile. “I'm a good judge of character. I know who I can trust and who I can't. Let me show you your room so you can get settled.”
            As the two of them walked down the hallway together, Angel couldn't help but feel a little sad. She really liked the idea of staying there and cooking. It was perfect, but it was just a fairytale. She couldn't stay there forever and put these wonderful people in danger. If she stayed in one place too long, Eric would find her. She knew that she had to eventually get to Hunter if she wanted to be truly safe. But for now, the ranch house was in the middle of nowhere miles from New Jersey, a good temporary solution.