.@bookpubservices #Guest: Dark Sun, Bright Moon by Oliver Sparrow

Please welcome new guest post from Oliver Sparrow to Moonbeams over Atlanta!

Dark Sun, Bright Moon.

How do you place a reader in a completely new world? Historical fiction tends to work out from a familiar situation – a love story, a war – and bring in the oddities a step at a time. Science fiction generally talks to an audience which is steeped in the tropes of the genre, and builds out from those: the star ship, the post-apocalyptic society. What do you do, though, when virtually nothing is familiar to the reader?

Dark Sun, Bright Moon is set in a time and place about which even anthropologists know very little: a thousand years ago, in the utterly isolated Andes. The first popular landmark, the Incas, is five hundred years in the future. The people who live there have been isolated for ten thousand years, having – so far as we can see from their remains – neither cultural nor commercial contact with anyone beyond their eyrie amongst the crag and deserts of the region.

Isolated societies develop their own views of the universe, of human origins and meaning. Even filtered through five hundred years of slow massacre, religious indoctrination and forcible relocation,  the Andean perspective remains a strange one to the rest of us. Individual humans are pinched off from a community pool of existence. They matter little, and return to that pool on death. All that matters – practically, ethically – is the maintenance of harmony within the community. Why this is so is down to the Andean metaphysic.

Our little world is a membrane, a space that is continually re-created, instant by instant, by vastly greater and more potent neighbouring universes. All of this is driven by a titanic unwinding of a domain of utter crystalline perfection into a shapeless zone of utter chaos. One of our neighbouring universes harbours the creative principle, a teeming myriad of potential, inhabited by odd sentiences that have nothing to do with conventional deities. The other is a repository of information, the consequences of all that has been. Is this domain which tasks the creative universe endlessly to remake us. This slow process is what creates time, and prevents the realm of perfection from annihilating itself into the zone of formless chaos. Information streams which lack harmony – coherence – lead to poor reconstruction of the society from which they came. Ill health and worsening social relations follow. Individual disharmony has the potential to destroy any community from which it stems.

Human societies are, then, a potent source of information, and they create streams of it on which sentiences can grow. These are the apus, which – now crowned as Christian saints – still inhabit the peaks and lakes of the Andes. Apus actively manage  their communities for harmony. However, they may become greedy and so roboticise their villages, ultimately destroying them. Apus are connected by what the West would call ley lines, and so such parasitism can spread. As the book opens, just such an infestation is spreading.

Well, so much for the plot engine. How does one convey this in approachable text? As is said of the mating of hedgehogs, slowly and with care. As ever, the writer has three things to establish: the mise en scène, the plot engine and a narrative with which to grip the reader. All of that has to be done quickly, then enriched by iteration. We open, therefore, with a sacrifice on a pyramid, located in a desert complex that comprises a modest mountain range of these. A group of elderly people make an arduous pilgrimage in order to have their throats cut at dawn, and are happy for the privilege. The pyramid complex is, however, the home to a major apu  which survives through such deaths. It manages a complex priesthood which ensures this flow. In the next chapter, we learn that this ancient apu  is also under threat from the parasite. It may be subsumed, or its flow of pilgrim-fodder may be choked off.

The book is in three sections. The first of these tracks the catastrophic consequences of this confrontation, and in parallel brings a broad familiarity with the cosmology. The second introduces the main plot and characters. It follows the ascent of a naïve girl to her pivotal role in the resolution of the parasite’s threat. Those who recruit and use her are, however, overcome the third section, which follows the chaotic events leading to the settlement of Cuzco. The first section is a series of squibs, therefore, but the second and third sections rest on a coherent narrative drive.

The Dark Sun, Bright Moon web site is at http://www.DarkSunBrightMoon.com

 

Title: Dark Sun, Bright Moon

Author: Oliver Sparrow

Series: n/a

Published:

Genre:

Publisher:

 

 

Book Links:
Amazon eBook | Amazon PaperbackGoodreads

 

Excerpt:

Chapter 1: A Small Sacrifice at Pachacamac

A priest knelt before her, a feather from his head-dress tickling her face. His musky odour of old incense and stale blood was rank, even here on the windy summit of the pyramid. Four other priests held her body tipped slightly forwards, and the pressure that this put on her tired old joints hurt far more than the fine, cold bite of the knife at her neck. Quick blood ran thick down her chin and splashed into the waiting bowl. Then the flow weakened, the strength went out of her and she died, content.

Seven elderly pilgrims had set out for Pachacamac, following their familiar river down to the coast and then trudging North through the desert sands. Two of the very oldest of them needed to be carried in litters, but most were able to walk with no more than a stick to help them in the sand. Lesser members of the community had been delegated to carry what was necessary. These would return home. The elderly would not.

The better-regarded families of the town were expected to die as was proper, sacrificed at the Pachacamac shrine for the betterment of the community. Such was to be their last contribution of ayni, of the reciprocity that assured communal harmony and health. It was also their guarantee of a smooth return to the community’s soul, to the deep, impersonal structure from which they had sprung at birth.

The Pachacamac complex appeared to them quite suddenly from amongst the coastal dunes. They paused to marvel at its mountain range of pyramids, its teeming myriad of ancient and holy shrines.

Over the millennia, one particular pyramid had come to process all of the pilgrims who came from their valley. They were duly welcomed, and guards resplendent in bronze and shining leather took them safely to its precinct.

They had been expected. The priests were kind, welcoming them with food and drink, helping the infirm, leading them all by easy stages up to the second-but-last tier in their great, ancient pyramid. The full extent of the meandering ancient shrine unveiled itself like a revelation as they climbed. Then, as whatever had been mixed with their meal took its effect, they were wrapped up snug in blankets and set to doze in the late evening sun, propped together against the warm, rough walls of the mud-brick pyramid. Their dreams were vivid, extraordinary, full of weight and meaning.

 

The group was woken before dawn, all of them muzzily happy, shriven of all their past cares, benignly numb. Reassuring priests helped them gently up the stairs to the very top tier. In the predawn light, the stepped pyramids of Pachacamac stood sacred and aloof in an ocean of mist.

Each pilgrim approached their death with confidence. A quick little discomfort would take them back to the very heart of the community from which they had been born. They had been separated from it by the act of birth, each sudden individual scattered about like little seed potatoes. Now, ripe and fruitful, they were about to return home, safely gathered back into the community store. It was to be a completion, a circle fully joined. Hundreds of conch horns brayed out across Pachacamac as the dawn sun glittered over the distant mountains. Seven elderly lives drained silently away as the mist below turned pink.

 

Blurb:

Dark Sun, Bright Moon, by Oliver Sparrow, was published in July 2014 and is available for sale on Amazon in both paperback and ebook.

“Dark Sun, Bright Moon describes people isolated in the Andes, without the least notion of outsiders. They evolve an understanding of the universe that is complementary to our own but a great deal wider. The book explores events of a thousand years ago, events which fit with what we know of the region’s history,” says Sparrow.

In the Andes of a thousand years ago, the Huari empire is sick. Its communities are being eaten from within by a plague, a contagion that is not of the body but of something far deeper, a plague that has taken their collective spirit. Rooting out this parasite is a task that is laid upon Q’ilyasisa, a young woman from an obscure little village on the forgotten borders of the Huari empire.

This impossible mission is imposed on her by a vast mind, a sentience that has ambitions to shape all human life. Her response to this entails confrontations on sacrificial pyramids, long journeys through the Amazonian jungle and the establishment of not just one but two new empires. Her legacy shapes future Andean civilization for the next four hundred years, until the arrival of the Spanish.

Dark Sun, Bright Moon takes the reader on a fascinating adventure that includes human sacrifice, communities eaten from within, a vast mind blazing under the mud of Lake Titicaca, and the rise and fall of empires cruel and kind.

 

About the Author:

Oliver Sparrow was born in the Bahamas, raised in Africa and educated at Oxford to post-doctorate level, as a biologist with a strong line in computer science. He spent the majority of his working life with Shell, the oil company, which took him into the Peruvian jungle for the first time. He was a director at the Royal Institute for International Affairs, Chatham House for five years. He has started numerous companies, one of them in Peru, which mines for gold. This organisation funded a program of photographing the more accessible parts of Peru, and the results can be seen at http://www.all-peru.info. Oliver knows modern Peru very well, and has visited all of the physical sites that are described in his book Dark Sun, Bright Moon.

To learn more, go to http://www.darksunbrightmoon.com/

 

BOOK PUBLICITY SERVICES

http://bookpublicityservices.com/

Advertisements

.@GoIndiMarketing #BlogTour: Gift of the Blood God:Drawn by Sydney Whyte #Romance #GuestPost

Please welcome Sydney Whyte to Moonbeams over Atlanta with a guest post and an excerpt that you must be over 18 to read.

The Anatomy of Fae

Fae, faeries, fairies…

So much to choose from, so much lore to explore.  From the Roman household deities – penates, lares and even genii, to the simple Norse and Teutonic traditions of Valkyries, elves and disir to the much more rounded and vaunted Arthurian tales and Celtic legends, fairies abound in every way, shape and form.  Minor deities, long-lived, immortal, human-like but powerful, light elves, dark elves, dwarves, all rendered ‘Fairies’ to some culture or civilisation…  Malignant, benign, monstrous or fair, they populate writings from ancient to modern in abundance, and never, it would appear, do we grow tired of them.

Fae encompasses so many different notions, beliefs and traditions, that for my world and my purpose I dared to strip them bare.

A fantasy, paranormal, erotic fusion encompassing an unknown world, unknown peoples, religion, beliefs, required a mesh of myth and influence that was fresh.  I wanted a paranormal being that was sexy, powerful and lethal.

Book one of the Gift of the Blood God – Drawn, but touches upon these creatures that inhabited the world of Abod le A’nor before the advent of humankind.  They are lost, they are cursed, they are trapped.  But one of them has a plan…

 

Excerpt

(Please be aware, the contents of this excerpt is considered R18)

 

“Open your eyes!” The words slithered beneath her distraction, a breath of wind whispered in her ear, hoarse, harsh with need. “Come back to me!”

“Nay, nay… Ahhh!” The heat pressed closer, hotter, her clit aflame with a surging passion, digging, growing in her lower belly, “Don’t… Ahhh, I… I can’t… Ahhh, ahhh, ahhh!”  She felt herself explode, ripple and she screamed as if in pain, the most tumultuously exquisite pain.

Her eyes opened, finally obedient.  The shroud of darkness and light encapsulated Melan. The roof of the cave so high above her was lost from sight, the earth a forbidding mantle that threatened incarceration, and yet this was what all called the Shining Lair, the temple of the Blue Heartstone, and the dwelling place of Wyrm power; the clash of pure earth essence and air.  A pale patina of blue light filtered into the shadows given off by the large gem that sat proud upon its sconce – the Faeling’s beautiful prison.  It was familiar, as was the brilliant bright white light of a ‘Pillar of Power’ searing the ground stone and burgeoning straight into the void above, blinding and intense to look upon.  It filled the cavern’s centre, and yet even its potency could not force all shadows back.

Melan knew she had been here all along filled with lust and fantasies. Quickly she looked down her body as she lay naked upon the bundle of furs, cushions and silken throws.  Her legs lay open to the mouth that sucked one last jolt of passion from the quiver of her singing clit and she gasped again, her hips uncontrollably undulating to press closer.  The black eyes looked up at her from the shadow of his face, a smile of satisfaction spreading the fullness of his lips, lips so blue she could barely believe the heat they caused as they played with her intimate flesh.

How had it come to this?  How had she even considered it?  The being between her legs was no man.  It was a Shade; the shadow of a Faeling and yet his attention elicited nothing but lust.  His was smoke and illusion but he felt of heat and weight and power as he teased at her sex.  She had not known the danger, had been unable to deny him.

“I would to dip into your honeyed well, my Priestess,” the Shade whispered though his lips did not move, the sound of his voice no more than an insistent caress to her mind.

Melan eased further back into her bedding and opened her legs the wider, quivering at the last touch of his hot tongue to the folds of her pussy as he pushed his now solid length up the contours of her body, brushing what should have been untouchable along the sensitivity of her pale skin.  The undeniable weight of his broad chest pressed to the fall of her swollen breasts and she sighed and waited with impatience as the threat of his shaft pressed to the wet welcome of her opening.  She moved against the tempting heat, her loins afire with anticipation.  “Do it. Do it.”

She could not believe how different it was from the first flush of disgust she had felt at his touch; confused, revolted.  She had come back from her reunion with Falric, her husband, her first love, her heart’s desire – denied her by the Guardian of ‘The People’, by the stipulations of her position – but the forbidden assignation had been at the wondrous Shade’s behest. She could not refuse, did not want to.  Melan had caressed the much-loved, gleaming gem, ready to thank it for its bounteous instruction.  Never had she enjoyed so much a command from the Heartstone.

It was not the first time that she had laid eyes on the shadow creature that could rise from the heart of the blue jewel but it had been the first time Melan realised that it was not as ephemeral as first believed.  At her touch the Shade slid forth and she gasped at its beauty; broad, naked, perfectly formed.  The hair on its head brushed the length of its bulging back to the slim tightness of its waist, but it was male, definitely male and she could not help but stare at the bulk of its loins cushioned beneath the blue-black curls of pubic hair.  Her face had burned hot and she had tried to step back as it came closer.

“Did you as bid, my Priestess? Has my plan gained momentum?” The voice had filled her mind.

Melan had stared into its black eyes as it ventured nearer, so close it – he – would have been able to feel her trembling, suddenly disquieted by his proximity.  She had nodded mutely and gasped as the large hand reached forth to stroke her cheek with a touch of heat, so solid and real she hardly credited her own senses.  The kiss to her lips was as hot and heavy as any she had shared with Falric though the touch was a mere caress, and she pulled instantly back, suddenly wary for her own safety.

“We shall see. We shall see…”

 

Author: Sydney Whyte

Title:  Gift of the Blood God: Drawn

Series Title and Number: Faelings Doom – Book 1

Publisher:  B King

Release Date:  March 2015

Genre:  Erotic Fantasy

Tags:  Mystical world, magic, world building, romance

Heat Level: 5

Pairing: Male/Female

Length: 73,000 words

Purchase Links:

iBooks  | B&N | Kobo | Amazon |  Goodreads

 

Book Blurb:

The world of Abod le A’nor stood waiting…

From the near new city of the civilised Oremen, to the wild untamed clans of the warrior nations of the Ancients, to the primitive quiet villages of a long lived and isolated people; their Dreamers dreamed and sensed the streams of time eddying and calling.  The Gift was coming, and all eyes turned to the rugged climes of the southlands.

Two women struggled through the new day, through vast tracts of dark and ominous wilderness.  Shocked and confused in the aftermath of what should have been a near fatal accident, twins Lorrie and Melory found themselves stumbling into a fate nothing in their previously sheltered lives had prepared them for.  Nothing was familiar and even the comfort they found in each other’s company could not keep the fear or panic at bay.

Where were they?

In a world imbued with strange powers and lingering passions, the past machinations of the doomed Faeling will irrevocably change forever the Neilson sisters’ future.

Thus begins the journey of the sisters’ awakening.

Please note: – this series contains swearing, sexual content and adult themes – suitable for persons over the age of 18 years

 

Author Bio

 

Sydney Whyte is a ground breaking new talent to arise in New Zealand erotic literature.  A vivacious reader and passionate creative writer since early childhood, she began writing paranormal and fantasy stories as early as ten years old. As a shy and reserved child, she immersed herself in writing complex, fantastical worlds full of magic, mystery and intrigue as a means of escapism. When she reached her teenage years, thoughts of love and romance entered her life with an obsession known only to the hormonal and young, her writing took a significantly saucier (although highly naive) turn. Her increasingly shy demeanour and strict upbringing allowed her few opportunities to openly explore her youthful sexuality; writing became an important means for shaping her philosophies on love, men and romance. As she set out on her own into the world she never ceased to write, but her life, prose and perspective changed drastically. Widowed at twenty-three, re married by twenty-seven, and a single mother of two before thirty five, her untainted youthful outlook on love, life and sex gave way to the exploration of the interconnectedness between beauty and pain, sensuality and shame, and love and despair, that shapes the unique human experience.

Author Links

Facebook | Sydney Whyte Blog

 

 

 

Official Tour Host

Does Your Written Gem Need An Editor? How about Two? #WDWS #editors #Discount

Moonbeams over Atlanta welcomes a guest post a little different from the usual blog tours, spotlights, and book promotions. Authors: Take note. There are resources for editing in the world. Please welcome the Wicked Dragon Writer Solutions team: Amber Kallyn and Jami Gray!

You’ve finally typed the two most important words: “THE END”, but your precious treasure of words needs one final polish before you usher it out on to the cruel world. Welcome to Wicked Dragon Writer Solutions, where you can get two editing beasts for one smoking price!

WD JPEG

 

Between Amber and I, we have 13 hard-won years of word crafting experience, not just in published work, but in editing for other authors. While we’ve been doing this without gathering our fees, we decided it was time to put our pens to work for us. We know how vital editors are to Creators of the Written Word, and what’s better than one editor? How about two editors putting their eyes to the jewelers loop to examine your precious treasure, and you’ll only be out the gold for the price of one. Think of it as an Editorial BOGO (buy-one-get-one-free).

Feel free to come on over and check us over at Wicked Dragon Writer Solutions (www.wickeddragonsolutions.com)!

In celebration of our grand opening, if you book your adventured during the month of April, we are offering 10% off your hoard of gold, just note code: WDWSOPEN when booking your spot!

 

If you’re anxious to start your epic journey, feel free to reach out to wickeddragonsolutions@gmail.com and we’ll get you set for your editing adventure.

-Jami Gray and Amber Kallyn

@BitnBookPromote #GuestPost: “Alpha Rockstar” by @EmmaRoseRomance #BlogTour #Romance

Alpha Rockstar

Welcome to Day Eleven of the Alpha Rockstar Blog Tour.

Thank you BitNTour for having Moonbeams over Atlanta as a stop.

Welcome Emma Rose!

Why I decided To Write Alpha Rockstar

I decided to write Alpha Rockstar when I was going through a rough patch in my life. Within a two month timespan, I suffered the loss of a very close family member, experienced a house fire, moved to a new house across my state, my car broke down, I was extra tight on money because of all the unexpected expenses, and I wasn’t able to work the amount of hours that I needed in order to make some deadlines for my books. It was definitely one of the lower points in my life and I was left questioning whether or not I had made the right decision going into writing full-time. I just sort of felt…numb…after wave after wave of bad news hit me. I needed to do something to get out of that place in my life.

It was hard to pull myself out of that numbness and once the dust settled a little bit, I realized that I needed to explore some of these feelings through the characters of Penelope and Marcus. Writing has been my outlet from the very beginning, so it’s sort of my go-to for getting my chaotic thoughts out into something coherent. At the core of Alpha Rockstar is a story about a woman who is struggling to act on her passion. She’s a photographer for a small-time newspaper with aspirations to follow a rock band from relative obscurity to stardom. This sort of mirrors my doubts at the time about my own career as a writer. Though the self-publishing movement has definitely opened things up for new writers, there’s definitely still a very established system that works in favor of those working within the traditional model. The situation is very similar for Penelope. She’s pursued her passion in life, but up until the events of Alpha Rockstar, she has gained very little traction for major exposure.

Added to that are her personal chains that hold her in place. She may be pursuing her passion, but she discovers that she hasn’t been fully committed to it out of fear of treading new water. What if she isn’t good enough? What if it all fails and she’s left without any money or a place to live? These are very real possibilities that she faces when making her decision to follow Marcus’ band. These possibilities are also exactly the sorts of doubts that had been hitting me pretty heavily during my low point. My book sales had been on a downward trend because of several factors, some in my control and some not, and that led me to question whether pushing forward was something that would lead to continued success or would it put me out on the street.

The real push to write Alpha Rockstar, is to describe the chemistry of the relationship between Penelope and Marcus, the band’s leader. He’s experienced a traumatic past which has made him very closed off to meaningful relationships. When he meets Penelope, her passion makes him excited about life for the first time in years and he slowly begins to discover the missing element from his own life. If you’re familiar with my work, I love showing how relationships have the power to bring our secret flaws to the surface and to heal them. It’s a very cathartic process for me as a writer and a reader and I hope it speaks to other readers as well.

With that said, feel free to check out Alpha Rockstar! It’s a novella trilogy that tells the full love story of two passionate people as they journey through themes of love, loss, hope, and redemption.

Don’t forget, there’s a Rafflecopter giveaway at the end of this post.

Cover LARGE

 

ALPHA ROCKSTAR by Emma Rose

Genre: Adult Romance

Pages: 47 (part of a trilogy)

 

Synopsis:

 

She’s reaching for a lifelong dream.

Penelope has made a living taking concert photos for the newspaper entertainment section, but her dreams are much bigger. She dreams of getting close with a rock and roll band and taking pictures of everything, immersing herself in the rock and roll lifestyle.

He’s searching for a life beyond the stage.

She gets her chance when a band on tour invites her to join them for a few weeks, but Penelope has reservations…is she being invited along because they want a photographer, or because Marcus, the quiet but attractive lead singer, wants to sleep with her? And what would she say if he tried?

add to goodreads black

Purchase Links:

(This is a Kindle Unlimited title)

 

Amazon US | Amazon CA | Amazon UK

 


 

OTHER BOOKS IN THE SERIES:

 

Alpha Rockstar 2

 

Alpha Rockstar Book Two

 

She’s taking a chance.

Penelope is on tour with the metal band, Attack Ships on Fire, as the band’s photographer. For the first time in her life, she’s living her dream…But she never expected to fall for Marcus, the band’s lead singer. She doesn’t want to be seen as a groupie there for the band’s pleasure, but maintaining a professional distance with Marcus is nearly impossible with his magnetic personality and killer looks. But is she just a sexual object to him? Or does he want more?

He’s looking for an escape.

As the lead singer and manager for his band, Marcus is constantly inundated with the difficulties of the rock lifestyle, living on the road, and projecting a mask of pure energy representative of his persona within the band. That all changed when he met Penelope, the first genuine person he’s come across in a long time. And though he wishes for her to be treated professionally as the band’s photographer, he can’t resist her curvy figure and witty personality. Can he afford to take off his mask and let her see the person he really is?

 

add to goodreads black

 

Purchase Links

 

Amazon US | Amazon UK

 


 

alpha rockstar 3

 

Alpha Rockstar Book Three

 

Penelope can sense genuine love developing between her and Marcus, but even as things heat up, there is a coldness on his part, a distance. He won’t speak of his past, and he won’t make plans for the future—unless it’s for his band.

What is going to happen when the tour ends? He lives in L.A. and she lives in Seattle. Will she convince him to plan a future together, or will she be just another casualty of the rock and roll lifestyle?

As strong as her feelings might be, there is only so far that a girl can be pushed…

 

add to goodreads black

 

Purchase Links

 

Amazon US | Amazon UK

 


 

About the Author

 

Author Logo

 

Emma Rose is quickly rising as a new author with a lot to offer. She specializes in the steamy romance genre with popular series THE BILLIONAIRE’S PROPOSAL, TAKING STAGE, THREE, and STRIPPED. She self-published her first book in 2011 and has since risen to a Top 100 author in Amazon’s Erotica category, among others. Part of her quick rise can be attributed to her small, but growing, group of fans who promote her work and offer her feedback as Beta Readers, an offer she extends to potential fans at the end of each of her works. Interested fans can apply to her beta reader program and receive one of her works for free through her website: http://emmaroseromance.com/beta/

 

Rose says she is from ‘lots of places,’ having lived in various parts of the United States, New Zealand, Italy, and the United Kingdom. Below, Rose details how she became a writer (from her website):

One question that I’m frequently asked is how did I get into writing?

 

Looking back, it’s hard to believe just how much has changed in the past few years. I never gave serious thought to being a full-time writer and chalked it up as just another unattainable ‘dream job’ right along with being an astronaut or a professional underwater basket weaver.

I started writing creatively at a very young age…somewhere around age eleven or twelve. These early writings were nothing I’d ever share publicly (because, frankly, they are quite horrible!). However, it was the beginning of what I like to refer to as the “itch.”

Just what is the itch? It starts out as a very dull, barely noticeable tickling in the back my head and is usually sparked when I ask myself “What if…” It is here that the itch grows a little stronger and is harder to resist. My fingers begin to twitch in anticipation at the prospect of taking the idea that’s been bouncing around in my head and putting it into something coherent…making it able to be experienced by others.

While I never pursued writing in a serious manner, the ‘itch’ remained with me through to adulthood. In college, I had just enough space to squeeze in a creative writing class even though there was no benefit to my degree to do so (I blame it on the ‘itch!’).

And wow…For the first time in my life I had an excuse to use creative writing as an outlet again. Somewhere along the way I had fallen into the rut of settling for the practical and this one decision had me excited about life again.

Sadly, the creative writing class ended and I went back to completing my degree. After college, finding a steady job, even one that paid peanuts, was a difficult prospect. My diet consisted of peanut butter sandwiches and ramen noodles.

On a late-night whim, I decided to join Amazon’s self-publishing platform and submitted some of my creative writing pieces from college. These went on to be available for purchase in Amazon’s Kindle store. I promptly forgot completely about it until one day, about three months later, I received a check in the mail from Amazon.

Now it wasn’t that much, mind you, but when I realized that the money Amazon had sent me came from people who had purchased my work, I was ecstatic! In the little time I had off between my three part-time jobs, I wrote. And wrote. And wrote some more.

Over the course of about six months, my self-published works went from earning me a meal out every month to making more than all of my other jobs combined. It was then that I decided to make the leap to writing full-time.

This was a very big deal for me, because as I mentioned at the beginning of this post, being a writer just didn’t seem like a reachable thing…It seemed so absurd (and still does) that I have moments where I sit back and think about just how amazing this journey has been.

Sure, there have been ups and downs, but I am forever grateful to my fans who continue to support my writing. It’s because of them (and you, too, since you’re reading this post) that I can continue to scratch my ‘itch’ and create new stories for you to explore.

 

Author Links:

Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads | Website

 


 

Giveaway

 

a Rafflecopter giveaway

 

1organized by

@pumpupyourbook Tour: “Order of the Seers Trilogy” by @CereceRMurphy #PUYB #VBT

Please welcome to Moonbeams over Atlanta Order of the Seers Trilogy by Cerece Rennie Murphy.

About The Books

Order of the Seers Trilogy

TitleOrder Of The Seers Trilogy

Author: Cerece Rennie Murphy

Publisher: LionSky Publishing

Publication Date: September 30, 2014

Pages: 164

ISBN: 978-0985621049

Genre: Science Fiction

Format: Paperback, eBook, PDF

What would you do if you held infinite power in the palm of your hand?

The Order of the Seers trilogy poses this question within a story that fuses action, mystery, and romance within a science fiction adventure that keeps you at the edge of your seat.

Captured and enslaved for their extraordinary gift, a group of individuals, known as Seers, are forced to serve a ruthless world organization that uses the power of the Seers to exploit the ultimate advantage: knowing the future. While a brother and his Seer sister fight to evade the group that hunts them, an unlikely captured Seer plots his escape from within the organization and sets off a chain of events that will change the world.

The journey begins with Order of the Seers (Book I) and continues with The Red Order (Book II).  The final chapter in the Order of the Seers trilogy, titled The Last Seer (Book III), will be released on September 30, 2014.

Purchase The Book- AmazonB&NGoodreads

 

 

 

Link to trailer for Book I: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8dJHEfETnAE

The Order of the Seers - The Red Order (Book 2)

 

 

Link to trailer for Book II: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QL20RBdgji4

Order of the Seers - The Last Seer (Book 3)

 

Link to trailer for Book III: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SvduqiK_x8o

 

 

 

Book Excerpt: 

Chapter 1: The End

Sunday, June 22, 2008

Liam was losing his patience. “Aw, come on! Are you serious? You can’t want to ride this thing again!”

Instead of answering her older brother, Lilli remained in her seat as the Ferris wheel conductor looked on expectantly, hand outstretched and waiting for another two tokens.

The way Lilli’s skinny arms hugged her book bag while she stared blankly at the pressed metal floor of their “Fairy Land Caboose” made it hard for Liam to stay angry. The sight of her looking so dejected softened him enough to give the conductor his fifth set of tokens in less than 45 minutes. Liam settled back into his seat just as the lap bar clamped down uncomfortably against his thighs.

“Lilli,say something. Why’d you drag me out here if you were just gonna sulk? I hate the carnival, you know that.”

“I know something… okay? Just… trust me. We have to stay here.” Her voice was so low he could barely hear her over the wind-up music that was blaring from the overhead speakers.

“Did Mom say something to you?”

Lilli responded to his question with silence and a barely discernable shake of her head back and forth. He tried again.

“Lilli! Did Mom…?”

“Yes,” she snapped.

They both fell silent again as Liam took in the latest weird thing day. Lilith Knight, or Lilli as she preferred to be called, had always been of the strange. Even when she was five,she could beat Liam at chess lazily, without even thinking about it. She would find things and give them to you before you asked for them. Before you, or even she, knew why. Up until recently, he thought she was just a freak. No biggie. All little sisters are like that, he told himself.

It was only in the past few months that his perception of her began to shift, after her prediction that he would catch his new girlfriend, Krista, kissing his teammate Lance in the locker room after their championship game. At the time, he’d brushed off her premonition as meddling. Krista wasn’t even his girlfriend and his team was 1-1 with the whole basketball season ahead of them.

He’d forgotten her warning completely until two months later when he ran back into the locker room after winning the championship to get the jacket he’d left behind and immediately smelled Krista’s perfume. When he found them, two thoughts overshadowed the scene unfolding in front of him. The first was that what they were doing wasn’t really “kissing,” though he could see how a sheltered thirteen-year-old would describe it that way. His second thought was that Lilli was right; she was exactly right. He was so stunned by Lilli’s accuracy that he didn’t even bother to disturb them, leaving his new ex-girlfriend and her new boyfriend to their business. From that moment, Liam understood that Lilli wasn’t just a freak, or more accurately, that she wasn’t a freak at all. She was special…gifted.

The sound of Lilli’s sniffling followed by the trembling of her body as she began to cry uncontrollably broke the long silence that had fallen between them. What the…, Liam half-mumbled as his mind swung from irritation to absolute bewilderment. Slowly and deliberately, Liam moved his palms down the front of his face as he fought the urge to shake the truth right out of her and end whatever this was. But he couldn’t. She’s so brittle already, he thought, without any idea as to why. So instead, he reached out to envelop his sister in his arms, trying to soothe her and comfort her from some unknown force.

“Lilli, it’s all right. I’m sorry, okay? Don’t cry. Just… tell me what’s going on. Why are we here?”

He tried to wait patiently, to rein in the confusion and frustration that had been piercing through the calm day he had planned for himself when he woke up that morning, as cool and carefree as any sixteen-year-old boy. It was Lilli who had dragged him out of the house before he could even wolf down his second bowl of Honeycombs. “Mom said you have to take me to the carnival. NOW!” She had demanded.

He had started to head upstairs to launch his appeal when his eye caught his mother’s note on the refrigerator door. “Take Lilli to the fair. NOW.—Love, Mom,” it read.He knew that meant his mother had left the house early; there was no appeal to be made. Begrudgingly, he slipped on his sneakers and grabbed the car keys, all the while wondering if Lilli was still too young to be left at the fair by herself.

His earlier thoughts of abandonment brought him back to his sister’s form beside him. Not knowing what else to do, Liam simply held her tight as her convulsing turned to trembling, and finally, back to stillness. At the top of the Ferris wheel,she finally spoke.

“It’s over now, we can go home,” she whispered. But as impatient for answers and a reprieve from big brother duties as he was, Liam knew that it was not over. The emotionless tone in her voice scared him. It made him want to stay on the Ferris wheel he’d been begging to get off of a few short minutes ago. As the music died down and their feet got closer to the ground, he suddenly felt conflicting urges to stay where he was and to rush home to his mother. As the ride came to a stop, he suddenly realized with profound certainty that this was much more than one of Lilli’s “episodes.” Something was very, very wrong

When Liam pulled his father’s green 2002 Saab in front of their small brick house, everything seemed as it always did—quiet and predictable in their modest yet comfortable home. They had lived in a much bigger house before his father died, but Liam never minded sharing a bathroom with his mother and sister. All the toys and trinkets that had mattered to him when he was a child were rendered insignificant the moment his mother told him that his father would never come home again. As he got out of the car and began to take the front steps two at a time, he noticed that Lilli had stopped at the tree stump his mother had cut down the week before. Sitting down, her eyes remained on the ground. Just as his mouth formed the shape of a question,she spoke.

“No, you go. I can’t see it again.”

Liam didn’t stop to ask what she meant. Whatever she meant, he was sure it was worse than he thought. He tried to hold back the swell of fear in his chest as he ran to the front door, but his emotions spun out of control the moment he tested the front door knob and found it opened—easily. They never left the front door unlocked.

When he stepped into the house, he actually felt the life, the person he had been, rush past him and out the door as his eyes took in the overturned, splintered remains of their living room. It was a feeling he’d felt only once before, when his father died. But what made it worse, what made it permanent, was lying in the middle of the floor, with its contents thrown everywhere. It was his mother’s purse, which had not been there when he left that morning.

“Mom!” he shouted as he raced up the stairs to her room. “Mom. Please!” he shouted again, but no one answered. In every room he looked, it was the same – scattered clothes, broken mirrors, and silence—a deafening silence that rang louder than the sound of his own shallow breathing.

If he took the stairs at lightning speed to make it to the second floor, an age could have passed during his descent. The entire house consisted of three bedrooms, one and a half bathrooms, a kitchen, a living room, and a small open dining area that you could see clearly from the front door. As he walked down the steps, he knew there was only one room left to check. His mind was frozen on what to hope for as his hand reached the end of the banister. If she wasn’t in the kitchen, she might have been taken, but at least there was a chance she was still alive. If she was in the kitchen, it was unthinkable.

Lilli’s words came to him just as he rounded the doorway to the kitchen.

“No, you go. I can’t see it again.”He found his mother sitting with her feet planted on the floor, shoulder width apart, bright eyes open and cast to the ceiling, with a hole blown through the middle of her chest.

 

 

 

Cerece Rennie Murphy fell in love with science fiction at the age of seven, watching “Empire Strikes Back” at the Uptown Theater in Washington, D.C., with her sister and mom. It’s a love affair that has grown ever since. As an ardent fan of John Donne, Alice Walker, Kurt Vonnegut and Alexander Pope from an early age, Cerece began exploring her own creative writing through poetry. She earned her master’s degrees in social work and international relations at Boston College and Johns Hopkins School for Advance International Studies, respectively, and built a rewarding 15-year career in program development, management and fundraising in the community and international development arenas – all while appreciating the stories of human connection told in science fiction through works like Octavia Butler’s “Wild Seed,” Frank Herbert’s “Dune” and “The X-Files.” In 2011, Cerece experienced her own supernatural event – a vision of her first science fiction story. Shortly after, she began developing and writing what would become the “Order of the Seers” trilogy. Cerece lives just outside of her hometown of Washington, D.C., with her husband, two children and the family dog, Yoda.

For more information, follow Cerece at http://www.cerecerenniemurphy.com

Connect with Cerece Rennie Murphy – WebsiteBlogFacebook | TwitterGoodreads

 

 

Discuss this book in our PUYB Virtual Book Club at Goodreads by clicking HERE

 

http://www.pumpupyourbook.com/2014/09/21/pump-up-your-book-tours-presents-order-of-the-seers-trilogy-virtual-book-tour/



puyblogo

@JessieClever Guest Post: New Release: To Save a Viscount: Book Four of the Spy Series

Please welcome Jessie Clever to Moonbeams over Atlanta! She is today’s guest post.  Regency Romance.  One of my favorite genres. 🙂
To Save a Viscount Cover Photo

 

Blurb:

When an assassin threatens England’s spy network, Lady Margaret Folton must find the killer before it’s too late.  But when Commodore John Lynwood is accidentally granted a title meant to be used as bait to lure the assassin into the War Office’s trap, Margaret must face the tragedy of her past and decide which is more important: the assignment or love?

 

Excerpt:

 

London

August 1815

 

He had grown so accustomed to the sound of gunfire that he did not hear the shot that was meant to kill him.

 

This would have worried Richard Black, the Duke of Lofton, if he had had time to think on it. But as the situation inherently required immediate action, prolonged and abstract thinking on the subject was neither prudent nor wise. So he refrained. Instead, he wondered who it was that smashed into him at incredible speed, sending him tumbling backwards off the walk along the Thames and into the bitter, black water below.

 

He had been meeting his contact there along the water at an unholy hour, and darkness had lain all about him. The exchange had gone as planned, and he now held the knowledge that he knew would prove key to his current assignment with the War Office. But as the inky water of the Thames closed over his head, he wondered if he would ever get that information to the necessary people.

 

And then as the last of the light disappeared, he thought of Jane, his wife. His Jane. He did not think of her in specific instances or certain memories that lay in his mind. He thought of her in pieces. Her smell. Her laugh. The sound her hair made as she brushed it at night. The way she always laid her hand on top of his whenever they should find themselves sitting next to one another. Her amazing talents with chestnut roasters.

 

He would have laughed if such an action would not speed up the inevitable drowning that suddenly became all too real, flushing thoughts of Jane from his mind. His arms began to push against the water as his feet began to pulse, driving him toward the surface. Only he did not move. Whoever it was that had slammed into him still held him about the waist, dragging him deeper into the water. He began to struggle, the need for air and life and Jane surging through his veins in a way he had never felt before.

 

And then a hand brushed against his cheek, and slender fingers came to rest across his mouth. He wanted to open his eyes, but he knew it would do no good in the black water. But he let the feeling of his attacker’s hand brush against his skin, the shape of it press into his face, the narrowness of limb and the delicate arch of bone.

 

It was a woman who held him beneath the water.

 

And he stopped struggling.

Copyright © Jessie Clever

Buy Links:

AmazonKoboNookAll Romance eBooksiBooks

 

Bio:

In the second grade, Jessie began a story about a duck and a lost ring.  Two harrowing pages of wide ruled notebook paper later, the ring was found.  And Jessie has been writing ever since.

Armed with the firm belief that women in the Regency era could be truly awesome heroines, Jessie began telling their stories in her Spy Series, a thrilling ride in historical espionage that showcases human faults and triumphs and most importantly, love.

Jessie makes her home in the great state of New Hampshire where she lives with her husband and two very opinionated Basset Hounds.  For more, visit her website at jessieclever.com.

 

Social Media Links:

 

Facebook | TwitterGoogle+Pinterest

 

 

@BitnBookPromote Book Tour: The Revenant by @eliseabram #Contest #GuestPost

 
 
 
 
cover
 
 

THE REVENANT 

Elise Abram 

 

YA Paranormal

 
(click cover for purchase link)
 
 

He wears neither cape nor cowl, but Zulu is a superhero, nevertheless.

Raised from the dead as a revenant more than a hundred years ago, Zulu possesses Spiderman’s stealth, Superman’s speed, and Batman’s keen intellect. His only companion is Morgan the Seer, an old man cursed with longevity and the ability to see the future in his dreams. Zulu has spent the last century training with Morgan in order to save the people in his nightmares from certain and violent death. Branded a vigilante by the Media, Zulu must live his life in the shadows, travelling by night or in the city’s underground unless his quest demands otherwise.

Kat is an empath, someone who sees emotions as colourful auras. Relentlessly bullied by her peers, and believing her life amounts to nothing but a huge cosmic mistake, she finds purpose in her abilities when she is recruited to help Zulu and Morgan complete their missions.

Malchus is Morgan’s long dead twin brother. A powerful necromancer, Malchus manages to find a way to return to the living, and he has a score to settle with Morgan. Believing Morgan responsible for his death and out to seek revenge, Malchus begins to raise an army of undead.

  ~*~ 

GUEST POST 

Please welcome Elise Abram to Moonbeams over Atlanta.  What was your inspiration for creating a Young Adult Paranormal book?

My interest in popular culture has always leaned toward the paranormal. I love shows like “Ghost Whisperer”, “Supernatural”, “Almost Human”, “The Returned”, “The Walking Dead”, and “Vampire Diaries” to name a few. I count “Ghost Adventures”, “Long Island Medium”, “Ghost Hunters”, “Destination Truth” and “The Dead Files” among my current guilty pleasures. So it was no surprise when my mind kept on insisting I write some sort of paranormal novel. My first impulse was to write about vampires, but the market was saturated with vampire stories and I couldn’t think of a new approach to make my story stand out above the others.

 

I teach high school English. The culminating activity in the grade 10 academic English course is a novel study including a presentation of literary devices used in the novel. I’d taught the course more than a dozen times over the course of about five years. That meant I’d had to listen to at least 300 presentations. I’d listen to the themes in the novels and think, YA reading has changed so much since I was in school and the frankness of Are You There God, It’s Me, Margaret was revolutionary reading.

 

It was around the same time I decided to self-publish my first novels. These novels, Phase Shift, The Mummy Wore Combat Boots and Throwaway Child, were about a team of archaeologists who find weird things on digs in Ontario (think “Indiana Jones”, “Tomb Raider”, and “Relic Hunter” all rolled into one). The librarians at my school were very supportive of my writing and they were the first ones to encourage me to write a YA novel. I pooh-poohed it at first, but the more I listened to student presentations on YA novels, the more I became convinced I could write one. In fact, I should write one.

 

My brain needs facts to consume before ideas begin to percolate, so I began to do research. I read Twilight, Miss Perigrine’s Home for Peculiar Children, and Beautiful Creatures among others (but these are the ones that stuck out). Although I wasn’t a Twilight fan, Stephanie Meyer taught me how to put a new spin on an old idea with her vampires that shimmer in the sun. In Miss Perigrine, Ransom Riggs taught me I could give my characters practically any ability, but they should take pains to ensure the abilities are kept secret. Kami Garcia and Margaret Stohl’s Beautiful Creatures taught me how to pen a sweet, chaste romance.

 

I also became an avid reader of Chuck Sambuchino’s “Guide to Literary Agents Blog”, paying special interest in what the agents said in their interviews with respect to what they were looking for in the stories they were being sent and tried to incorporate that as well. In fact, my next novel is in response to one of the agents saying she would love to read a YA Time Traveler’s Wife. I’ve sort of taken that on as a personal challenge.

 

My students were always in the forefront as I wrote. I was always thinking about what they might write about, should they choose The Revenant as their culminating activity novel. To that end, I made sure there were themes embedded in the story, but that the story wasn’t primarily thematic in nature. I also tried to elevate the writing a bit in order to challenge them. Lastly, I tried to write a story that would appeal, not only to YA audiences, but New Adult and Adult ones as well.

 

The Revenant is a paranormal story that I’m hoping will introduce new characters and be of interest to everyone, ages fourteen and up.  If all goes well, there may be a sequel available to further the adventures of the revenant, the empath and the seer, soon.

Thank you Elise for being here with us today. 🙂
 
Eloreen
 
  ~*~ 

ABOUT THE AUTHOR 

Elise Abram

 
 
 
Teacher of English and Computer Studies by day, wife and mother by night
and author whenever she can steal some time, Elise Abram is the proud
author of Phase Shift, The Mummy Wore Combat Boots, and Throwaway Child,
available on Amazon and KoboBooks. She pens a blog about literature,
popular culture and the human condition whenever the muse moves her.Elise’s fourth book, a young adult paranormal thriller entitled The Revenant was released in July 2014.
 

a Rafflecopter giveaway

 

 

Day One (Sept 1st, 2014): Review w/ Interview Questions

– Tome Tender –

tometender.blogspot.com
Day Two (Sept 2nd, 2014): Author Interview & Guest Post

– Vampires, Crime and Angels…Eclectic Me –

ellelainey.wordpress.com
Day Three (Sept 3rd, 2014): Excerpt #1 & Graphic #1

– Fundamental –

www.fundinmental.com
Day Three (Sept 3rd, 2014): Promo

– Monique @Mo_Books –

moniquesmobooks.blogspot.ca
Day Four (Sept 4th, 2014): Author Interview & Character Bios

– Fire & Ice Book Reviews –

fireandicebookreviews.blogspot.co.uk
Day Five (Sept 5th, 2014): Review

– Book List Of Books –

booklistofbooks.blogspot.com
Day Six (Sept 6th, 2014): Author Interview & Graphic #2

– Sunshine Book Promotions –

sunshinebookpromos.blogspot.com

Day Six (Sept 6th, 2014): Promo

– Marisa Oldham Author of Love Stories –

thefallingseries.blogspot.com
Day Seven (Sept 7th, 2014): Review w/ Interview Questions

– The Hellvis Compendium –

thehellviscompendium.com
Day Eight (Sept 8th, 2014): Guest Post & Excerpt #2

– The Consulting Writer –

www.elizabethlos.com
Day Nine (Sept 9th, 2014): Review w/ Interview Questions

– The La La Land Of Books –

http://saaratis.wordpress.com/

Day Ten (Sept 10th, 2014): Guest Post

– Moonbeams Over Atlanta –

blog.eloreenmoon.com
Day Ten (Sept 10th, 2014): Author Interview & Graphic #3

– Bit’N –

bitnbookpromoters.blogspot.com 

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

@pumpupyourbook Tour: “Slow Satisfaction” by @ceciliatan #PUYB #VBT

Slow Satisfaction Banner
Please welcome to Moonbeams over Atlanta, Cecilia Tan, author of Slow Satisfaction on tour here today.  I present a topic that is always interesting to learn about an author… “Five Things You Wouldn’t Know About Cecilia Tan”
I’ve been ask to tell you five things you don’t already know about me. Since I’ve been publishing since 1992, speaking at conventions and bookstores just as long, and blogging since 1996, it was tricky to try to come up with thing I haven’t written about in public before! But I think I came up with a few good ones.
1. You already know I’m into BDSM since if I wasn’t, I wouldn’t have written a book like Slow Satisfaction. (My first book was calledTelepaths Don’t Need Safewords, after all!) But what you don’t know is that the first lover to spank me was a cute guy from Connecticut who was in a theater troupe with me. I had recently graduated college; he still had one more year. Neither of us had ever done anything like it before and we knew nothing about it other than I had read in a magazine once that if you started out spanking lightly you could work up to spanking harder. He spanked me during sex and afterward asked me how it made me feel. I think he thought I was going to say “naughty” or “slutty.” What I said was, “Alive!”
2. You already know I’m into writing rock stars in my books. Both Slow Satisfaction and Daron’s Guitar Chronicles have rock star heroes. What you probably don’t know is that when I was in high school I worked at WPLJ Radio in New York City, and after I graduated college and moved to Boston, I managed a rock band called Sexploitation. I also play several musical instruments myself, or used to, including the tuba, the clarinet, the guitar, the Irish flute, and the mandolin.
3. If you follow my Instagram you know I love cats. What you don’t know is that when I was a child I tried so hard to be creative with the name for my first cat. I was five or six and he was the runt of the litter. I tried calling him “Dynamite.” I tried “Jason.” I tried a new name every few hours for several days but none of them fit! It was my first case of writer’s block! My mother insisted I pick something. The only thing that really fit was “Kitty,” as in “Here Kitty, Kitty.” So Kitty it was.
4. You probably know that I’ve been writing erotica and BDSM for over 20 years. What you don’t know is that early in my career I wrote a Penthouse Letter. Penthouse Letters were dirty “true story” letters that were actually written by professional erotica writers but made to seem like they really happened. Mine involved dominating a hot punk boy in my Chevy Camaro and it was published in the Penthouse Variations magazine. What no one knew–including the editor at Penthouse–is that it was actually a true story.
5. Here’s one more that ties back to Slow Satisfaction, the new book that just came out. It’s not a secret that I put a lot of my life experiences into my books. But sometimes things I invent as fiction later come true in my real life. What no one knows is which of Karina’s experiences do I hope will come true…? I hope on my next trip to Las Vegas I’ll travel with someone brave enough to recreate the “Bellagio fountain” scene with me. If you haven’t read the book yet, I won’t tell you what happens, but let’s just say what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas.
And now… more information about Slow Satisfaction

TitleSlow Satisfaction

Author: Cecilia Tan

Publisher: Grand Central Publishing / Forever / Hachette

Publication Date: August 26, 2014

Pages: 336

ISBN: 978-1455529285

Genre: Erotic Romance / BDSM Billionaire

Format: Paperback and eBook

The sizzling conclusion of the Struck by Lightning trilogy! The story that began with the RT Award-winning Slow Surrender finally brings us all satisfaction. James has finally pushed Karina beyond her limit–not her limit for kinky sex play, but for his extreme secrecy. She has had enough and breaks things off.

But James won’t give up on Karina and he will do whatever it takes to get her back. He’s ready to share his deepest, darkest secrets, but is Karina ready to hear them? When James is blackmailed by an unscrupulous music industry executive, he must give in to unreasonable demands or risk exposure of his and Karina’s secret sex life… a sex life that keeps getting hotter! Will Karina and James’s love be strong enough to withstand the many obstacles being thrown their way?

Purchase The Book – Amazon B&NAppleKoboIndieboundGoodreads 

Book Excerpt: 

James’s eyes were serious, even as his face and body were relaxed and languid post-orgasm. “Did I convince you to give me another chance?”

 

I considered. “You at least earned the chance to tell me what I don’t know.”

 

He took my hand in his, like he had so many times before. This time he kissed my fingertips, his eyes closing as he did. “I have a lot to tell you. More than any single interrogation might reveal.”

 

I squeezed his hand. “I shouldn’t have to interrogate you for the answers.”

 

He sucked in a breath. “No. Of course you shouldn’t. There’s so much I need to tell you if you’re really going to get to know me.” He reached up and traced the curve of my cheek with his fingertip. “Yet I feel like you know me better than anyone.”

 

“I do know you,” I said. “I just don’t know the facts about you.”

 

His gaze shied away from mine. “Many of the facts are sordid.”

 

“Says the man who put a six-inch dildo into me and walked me around the Metropolitan Museum of Art.”

 

“I mean much more sordid than that.” Now his face had completely clouded over.

 

“I want to know, James. I need to know. I have a right to, if we’re going to be together.”

 

He nodded, though his eyes were closed. “I know. I agree. That still doesn’t make it easy for me to open up.”

 

I raised an eyebrow. “Except during sex.”

 

“As you well know. Were you serious about what you said before? I would sincerely give you a piece of my past for every time you give me…” He kissed my fingertips again. “Anything. Sex. Your body. Your submission.”

 

Even though we’d just had sex, I felt a thrill go through my loins. “I wasn’t suggesting it lightly.”

 

“I want to be sure. Sometimes we say things in the heat of passion that seem less than wise afterward.”

 

“But sometimes we get inspired.” This could be the perfect solution, I realized. “I know the time you’re the most open is when we have sex. That’s the time your answers will be the best. Of course, if we do this, I could still revoke my forgiveness at any time.”

 

“Of course. Just as you can revoke your consent at any time. I understand, Karina. It’s the Thousand and One Nights, only this time I’m Scheherazade, telling the stories.”

 

I touched his face with my fingers, feeling like a weight was slowly lifting from my back. Maybe we were going to make this work after all. The fact that he was willing to try so hard made a huge difference in how I felt. And I wanted him. The part of me that had been needing him and pining for him all summer was quelled by the knowledge we could do this.

 

I sat up and discovered I’d been lying on something. In the dim light I could still recognize what it was. “These look a lot like a pair of panties I used to have.”

 

“That’s because they are.”

 

“You’ve been carrying around my underwear?” I turned to look at him.

 

Lying beside me on the pillow, he wore a familiar expression: serene and a bit bemused. “You left them in the limo once. Did you think I’d throw them away?”

 

“I never really thought about it before.”

 

“If I left a pair of my underwear behind with you, what would you do?”

 

“Yeah, I see your point. I’ve got a handkerchief of yours I keep in the—”

 

His expression changed suddenly, his eyes widening and his lips parting in slight surprise. “That’s it, isn’t it?”

 

I felt myself blush even though I wasn’t keeping anything a secret. “Um, partly anyway. My roommate—”

 

“I know. I met her at the spa that day. Becky. She knew the Lord’s Ladies.”

 

“Yeah. And she got one of the handkerchiefs you threw from the stage at Madison Square Garden. It matched one I got from you.”

 

To my surprise, James smiled. He sat up and kissed me softly. “If I believed in fate, I’d say that was a sign. What are the odds?”

 

“And are they better or worse than the odds of being struck by lightning?”

 

His smile turned into a laugh. “Was that a pun?” In a flash he pulled my legs onto his lap, spanking me playfully several times. I couldn’t help it, it was like being ambushed by tickling. I kicked and giggled and shrieked.

 

I wriggled free, hug-tackled him, and ended up on top of him in the center of the bed, kissing him all over his face. “I’m still mad at you, you know.”

 

“If you say so,” he said. “By the way, I agree with your mother. This is a nice dress.”

 

“She bought it for me today. She wants to meet you.”

 

“What have you told her about me?”

 

“That you’re rich and good-looking which is what she cares about most. My sister wants to meet you, too. They know you’re an art world type but that’s all.” I was coming to my senses a little, now that the intense pleasure of the orgasm was receding and the play-spanking had woken me up. “And if you’d really put the rock star stuff behind you, that’d be all they need to know. But that sounds like a big if.”

 

“A very big if.” He nodded slowly, his face sobering again into his usual mask.

 

That would not do. The biggest question he still hadn’t answered for me was the story of Ferrara Huntington. It was the biggest thing that I thought could still be a deal-breaker and send me out of here a single woman. I leaned down and nuzzled his neck, as if the subject were closed for now. He smelled delicious, igniting all my cravings again. I nibbled behind his ear. He arched under me, his cock not yet ready to harden again, but the rest of him responding just fine. He pulled me down beside him, kissing me back and exploring my neck with his mouth.

 

Hadn’t we just finished having sex? I felt my insides melting again though, my desire rising like a tide. Maybe my body felt we should make up for lost time.

 

Making out was nice and I enjoyed the feeling that we were in no hurry. When had we ever done this, kissed for the sake of kissing? I lost track of time. Minutes ticked by in my haze of affection, pleasure, and relief. Yes. We needed this kind of connection, too. Affection, exploring each other, letting chemistry take over.

 

My hands roamed his back, his sides, his hips, until one of them strayed between his legs and I sucked in a breath as I met the scorching hot stiffness there.

 

There was no reason to wait. There was so much we had to talk about. “You’re ready for more?” I teased.

 

“With you, Karina, I always am.”

 

 

Cecilia Tan is “simply one of the most important writers, editors, and innovators in contemporary American erotic literature,” according to Susie Bright. Her BDSM romance novel Slow Surrender(Hachette/Forever, 2013) won the RT Reviewers Choice Award in Erotic Romance. Tan is the author of many books, including the ground-breaking erotic short story collections Black Feathers(HarperCollins), White Flames (Running Press), and Edge Plays (Circlet Press), and the erotic romances Slow Surrender, Slow Seduction, and Slow Satisfaction (Hachette/Forever), The Prince’s Boy (Circlet Press), The Hot Streak (Riverdale Avenue Books), and the Magic University series (Riverdale Avenue Books). Her short stories have appeared in Ms. Magazine, Nerve, Best American Erotica, Asimov’s Science Fiction, and tons of other places. She was inducted into the Saints & Sinners Hall of Fame for GLBT writers in 2010, was a recipient of the Lifetime Achievement Award from the National Leather Association in 2004, and won the inaugural Rose & Bay Awards for Best Fiction in 2010 for her crowdfunded web fiction serial Daron’s Guitar Chronicles. She lives in the Boston area with her lifelong partner corwin and three cats. Find out more at www.ceciliatan.com.

Connect with Cecilia Tan – Website BlogFacebook | TwitterGoodreads

 

 

 

http://www.pumpupyourbook.com/2014/06/17/pump-up-your-book-tours-presents-slow-satisfaction-virtual-book-tour/



puyblogo

Guest Post: Please Welcome Rhys Ford to Moonbeams over Atlanta

We welcome Rhys Ford to Moonbeams over Atlanta with a guest post!  The review of Tequila Mockingbird is here.

And now for Rhys…

Smooches and thank you for having me! I appreciate it muchly. In doing these umpteen blog posts, I’ve realized I’ve only shared an excerpt only in one place. And I usually find them kind of fun. Or at least it helps me kind of get a taste of what the book’s voice is. A very important thing when tasting a book.

 

Or at least I think so.

 

So if you will oblige me, I’d like to share a bit of Tequila Mockingbird with you in the hopes it will tickle your fancy. But let me tell you, so many fantastic authors out there. God, I could fill pages with names. I encourage to taste each and every one of their voices and find the ones that satisfy you. Always explore. I wholeheartedly endorse that.

 

And now an excerpt from Tequila Mockingbird

 

The blond fought to stay awake when Connor came home, but healing took a lot of out him, and he often nodded off before Connor could shower off the day’s dirt from his body. What little time they’d had was spent together, Forest leaning against him, often falling asleep on Con as he caught up on games he’d missed while working.

 

The man’s hands were never still, always tapping out a rhythm, sometimes even as he slept, slack-jawed, loose-limbed, and sprawled over Connor’s lap. It was like owning a cat in some ways, Connor thought once as he petted Forest’s soft blond hair. Someone to come home to who was happy to see him but then immediately curled up into a ball and snored whenever Connor offered his lap.

 

Except for this time—this now—because Forest sat up and pushed the hair from his eyes, smiling sweetly as he rubbed the sleep from his face.

 

“Hey.” He yawned, catching himself with a hand over his mouth. “Sorry. Shit, it’s late.”

 

“How’s the head?” Con asked, feeling the top of Forest’s skull.

 

The man laughed, pushing Con’s fingers away. “That’s not even where it was cracked.”

 

“Yeah?” he retorted, twisting over Forest’s long body and sliding his still chilled hands up under the man’s borrowed shirt.

 

Forest yelped and laughed, a hearty, sweet near-giggle. Then he pulled away, burrowing deeper into the couch cushions.

 

“I brought Vietnamese. Sandwiches, you said you like those.”

 

“Yeah, I do.” Forest stared up at him—those damnable all-seeing eyes drinking in Connor’s every expression. He bit his lip and then reached for Con’s hand. He pulled it against his stomach, cradling its warmth. “We okay? I mean, you and I? We haven’t talked about anything since—haven’t had time, and I’ve just been fucking sleeping my life away.”

 

“We’re more than okay,” Connor promised, leaning in to give Forest a gentle, brief kiss. Those were the only kind of caresses he was allowing himself, and he lived for each one, keeping them tallied up in his mind so he could remember them when his day lagged.

 

“Kiki have any leads? On anything?” Forest rubbed at his nose, scratching an itch.

 

“No, not yet,” Connor admitted. “No one’s seen anything. Biggest problem is that your places there have so many different people coming in an out of them, people don’t know who belongs there or no. And we can’t find a nosy old lady who watches the street with binoculars. Those are mighty handy a lot of times, I tell you. They’re a dying breed. Now they’re all out doing spin classes and the such.”

 

“Then we’re shit out of luck?”

 

“No, they’re going through the footage from the bank, and they’ve tapped another feed from down the street. The Canadian couple didn’t see who ripped off their van, but we’re hoping someone else did. Kiki’s arranging for interviews around the motel they were staying at. A lot of it is leg work.”

 

“I feel like a sitting duck or something.” He was bitter, and Connor didn’t blame him. “Fucking hell.”

 

“Hey, we’ll find him.” He kissed Forest, gently but insistent. “The bastard’s leaving a trail of dead bodies, and I’m not scared to admit it, but I’d rather you not be one of them. We’re all after this guy. Boys in blue are going to nail his ass. Pissed us off something fierce.”

 

Forest stared into his eyes, searching for something. Connor was content to let him, enjoying the feel of the man’s hard body against his. His own cock was debating going to a full-blown salute, and from the press of heat he felt on his thigh, it appeared Forest’s dick was of the same opinion.

 

They kissed again. Deeper, longer, and their bodies rubbed together, creating a lingering friction between them. Connor sighed after a few minutes, wondering if he had the strength to get up off the couch and take a cold shower.

Copyright © Rhys Ford

Tequila Mockingbird
Sequel to Whiskey and Wry (and The Devil’s Brew)

Sinners Series: Book Three


Lieutenant Connor Morgan of SFPD’s SWAT division wasn’t looking for love. Especially not in a man. His life plan didn’t include one Forest Ackerman, a brown-eyed, blond drummer who’s as sexy as he is trouble. His family depends on him to be like his father, a solid pillar of strength who’ll one day lead the Morgan clan.

No, Connor has everything worked out—a career in law enforcement, a nice house, and a family. Instead, he finds a murdered man while on a drug raid and loses his heart comforting the man’s adopted son. It wasn’t like he’d never thought about men — it’s just loving one doesn’t fit into his plans.

Forest Ackerman certainly doesn’t need to be lusting after a straight cop, even if Connor Morgan is everywhere he looks, especially after Frank’s death. He’s just talked himself out of lusting for the brawny cop when his coffee shop becomes a war zone and Connor Morgan steps in to save him.

Whoever killed his father seems intent on Forest joining him in the afterlife. As the killer moves closer to achieving his goal, Forest tangles with Connor Morgan and is left wondering what he’ll lose first—his life or his heart.

 

Purchase Tequila Mockingbird at: Dreamspinner | Amazon | ARe (links will be added when live)

Also available on Amazon, Are and other online book stores.

Tequila MockingbirdLG

 

 

!rhys_ford_headshotRhys Ford was born and raised in Hawai’i then wandered off to see the world. After chewing through a pile of books, a lot of odd food, and a stray boyfriend or two, Rhys eventually landed in San Diego, which is a very nice place but seriously needs more rain.

Rhys admits to sharing the house with three cats of varying degrees of black fur and a ginger cairn terrorist. Rhys is also enslaved to the upkeep a 1979 Pontiac Firebird, a Toshiba laptop, and an overworked red coffee maker.

Blog Guest: Dark Duke by Sabrina York

Please welcome to Moonbeams over Atlanta, Sabrina York!

The Third Book in the Scorching Noble Passions Series by Sabrina York Releases!

Fans of Sabrina York’s steamy Regency series have been eagerly awaiting the release of Dark Duke, the third book (following award winning Folly and Dark Fancy) in which Edward Wyeth, the Dark Duke of Moncrieff, finally meets his match in the form of a flame-haired Scottish spitfire.

Noble Passions: Follow the decadent exploits of friends and enemies as they find love and passion in the glittering world of the Regency—and its dark underbelly. Each book is a stand-alone read.

If you’re new to the series, download Sabrina’s free teaser book at http://sabrinayork.com/home-2/sabrina-yorks-teaser-book/ to read blurbs and excerpts for this popular series. Each book in the series is a stand-alone story.

Enter to win a signed print copy of Dark Fancy (Helena and James’ story—Book 2 in the Noble Passions Series) on Goodreads!  https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/17409083-dark-fancy

darkduke_msr

Dark Duke

Sabrina York

Noble Passions, Book Three

Edward Wyeth, the Dark Duke of Moncrieff’s life has been turned on its end. His well-ordered home has been invaded. By destitute relatives. From Scotland. How on earth can he write Lord Hedon’s salacious novels with hellions battling in the garden and starting fires in the library? But with the onslaught has come a delicious diversion. His cousin’s companion, the surprisingly intriguing Kaitlin MacAllister. He is determined to seduce her. Using her desperate need for funds and her talents as an artist, he convinces her to draw naughty pictures for his naughtier books…and he draws her into his decadent web.

But Kaitlin has a secret. She’s fled Scotland—and a very determined betrothed. When Edward’s cousin is kidnapped and held in her stead, Kaitlin is honor bound to return to her homeland and rescue her—much to Edward’s chagrin.

Because suddenly he can’t bear the thought of Kaitlin marrying another man. He can’t bear the thought of losing her at all.

A Romantica® Regency historical erotic romance from Ellora’s Cave

 

By reading any further, you are stating that you are at least 18 years of age. If you are under the age of 18, please exit this site.

An Excerpt From: DARK DUKE

Copyright © SABRINA YORK, 2014

All Rights Reserved, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.

Edward skirted the mêlée in the garden and made his way to the far end of the estate, where there was nothing but flowers and trees and a placid little pond. Nothing to attract diminutive fiends bent on mischief. He would sit in the folly until his temperature returned to normal.

Perhaps until spring.

Dear God. He’d had no idea having the Wyeths of Perth take over his house would be such a nightmare. If he had suspected as much, he would have turned them away at the start. They would probably have crawled in under the door. Through the cracks in the flue. Vermin had a way of finding entrance.

But now. Now they were here.

Entrenched.

He had to get rid of them.

Perhaps he could send them back to Scotland.

Scotland would revile him for it, but he had little use for rocky tors, lochs and sheep.

Then he thought of Violet and his heart lurched. It would crush her to be trundled back to what she referred to as “the bleak wilderness.” She was looking forward to a glittering season in London. She was seventeen. She needed a husband. A husband of quality. That might be difficult to find in the wilds of Scotland.

And Ned. Ned was twenty. He was just starting to find his way with the ton. He’d made some friends—decent fellows. He’d even been receiving invitations to game at White’s.

The two of them—the normal two—deserved better than being lumped in with the rest.

He whacked at a rosebud as he passed. It exploded into a flutter of petals. He refused to feel any sympathy.

He couldn’t send them packing.

Then what?

Hell. He was a duke of the realm. He had six houses spread throughout the empire. Why hadn’t he thought to purchase a spare in London?

Aha!

That was brilliant.

He would. He’d buy them their own house. Move them all, lock stock and—well, maybe not the barrels, as the older boys did like to drink. He’d move them all into their own domicile.

With Aunt Hortense. Let her manage them.

His life would once again be orderly. He would be the master of his own abode. Free to pursue the life of a wealthy dilettante.

Perfect.

He rounded the bend with a satisfied smile on his face. The trickle of the fountain in the pond was a balm to his tormented soul. Birds sang in the trees. The sun—well, it almost shone. It was a beautiful day.

Soon, the world would be right again.

Soon, they would all be gone.

He skipped up the steps of the folly with a lightness of heart he hadn’t felt in ages. A book on the bench snagged his attention and his mood dipped, but only a bit. Someone had been here. But they were gone.

He picked it up and flipped through it and stilled.

Good God.

It was a sketch book.

The first page was an attempt at this scene. The flowers and trees, the pond and the little fountain. Not very good. But the second arrested his attention. It was a simple line drawing of Violet. And it was stunning. The artist had managed to depict her beauty, but also captured that glint in her eye, the particular quirk of her lips. Her soul.

The next sketch was one of Ned, showing a brash young man, standing insouciantly with his hands shoved into his pockets, whistling a silent tune. The next was of the twins—whatever their names were—dark heads together plotting some manner of mayhem.

It was so realistic Edward expected them to leap from the page and whack him with a cricket bat.

But it was the last sketch in the book that stole his breath. It was a portrait, in profile. His own face. But not an Edward he would ever recognize. This man was heroic, tragic, a solitary soldier. It was only a few lines drawn in charcoal, but it revealed so much about him. Things he didn’t want anyone to ever know.

It was horrifying. And remarkable.

“Your Grace.”

He snapped the book shut and spun around.

Of course. What’s her name. The girl. The owl. From last night.

“Oh, you found it.” She stepped into the folly and took the book from his hands. He did not know why he let it go.

“You left it here.” An accusation. Really? He hadn’t intended for it to come out like that.

She chuckled. “I had to go rescue Hamish. I was coming back.”

“What…why did you have to rescue Hamish?” This was her work? She saw him like that? And hell, she was a damn fine hand. How he would love to turn such talent to…darker purposes. What a pity she was such a prude. The kind of work he could offer her would make her rich—rich enough to quit serving as Violet’s companion.

But she would never do it. No decent woman would.

He must be crazed, truly crazed, to even think on it.

The gripping sketch of his wounded countenance lingered in his brain. If she could do that, if she could see through to his soul and bring it to life on paper—

“And then he got stuck. In the tree. So I had to rescue him.”

Lord. She’d been talking. He’d missed the entire explanation. No matter. The question had been purely rhetorical.

“How long have you been drawing?”

She winced, clutched the book to her breast. He recalled what fine breasts they were. “I… What?”

“How long have you been drawing? You’re quite good.”

“You looked at my book?” She squawked as though he’d just admitted to peering up her skirts. The lemony face returned. A beetled brow and pursed lips. It was, upon reflection, rather adorable.

“It was lying here.”

“You shouldn’t look at someone’s sketchbook.”

“You shouldn’t leave it where it can be found.” He crossed his arms over his chest and grinned at her. Damn, he loved her accent.

She sputtered. “I told you. Hamish and Tay—”

“Tay?”

“Taylor. Hamish and Taylor were building a fort in a tree—”

“Yes. Yes. I know. You had to rescue him. Tell me, have they always been this much trouble?”

She blew out a breath. “You have no idea.”

They both laughed. It was a nice moment, because it seemed, for that brief flash of time, they were friends, bound in mutual misery.

And then he went and ruined it by letting his lust intrude. “So tell me, what did you think of that book?”

She tipped her head. “What book?”

“The one I gave you last night.”

She blinked several times, as though she had to try very hard to remember. “Oh. That book. I didn’t read it.”

He stepped closer. “Ah. You like to look at the pictures, then?” He knew the sort.

“Look at the… What? No, your Grace—”

“Edward.” He infused his voice with a low thrum.

Your Grace. I didn’t have a chance to open it.”

Why petulance curled within him, he had no clue. “What do you mean you didn’t have a chance to open it?” She was supposed to have read it. Or at least looked at the pictures. She was supposed to be gazing at him, right now, with a dewy look.

She brushed an invisible speck from her skirt. “There was…a distraction.”

Well hell. “What kind of distraction?”

Her lips pursed. The look she shot him was not dewy in the slightest.

Still, he wanted to kiss her.

He wasn’t sure why. She was certainly not the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. But her face had character and charm—especially when she smiled. Her figure was full—the way he liked them—but she didn’t show it off to its best effect. In fact, if he hadn’t known what lay beneath the thick layers of crinoline and bombazine, he would have been fooled. She was prickly as a hedgehog and smacked him down at every turn.

So why did he want to pull her into his arms and smother her mouth with his?

Perhaps because of all those things.

Then again, perhaps just because.

So he did.

He took the girl—whose name he could not remember, whose face he could not forget—into his arms and kissed her. It was a gentle buss, as kisses went, but extremely sublime. Because he’d surprised her.

Her lips were open, as though poised to speak. He took full advantage, sweeping in his tongue to dab at hers, nibbling and licking and tasting her sweet breath.

The prick at his side was not a surprise. He’d expected it.

He lifted his head and stared down into her eyes. Her expression was dazed and determined and perhaps a little dewy. “Not this time, darling,” he murmured. He took the knife from her hand and tossed it aside and then pulled her more fully against him.

And ah. She was soft. Sweet. Her breasts pressed against his chest. Her hips molded the cradle of his groin. Of course, he was the one doing the molding, but she didn’t fight him.

No. She sighed and tipped her head to the side so he could deepen the kiss. She tasted like ambrosia. A tantalizing flavor of cinnamon and woman and surrender. His ardor rose, and with it, his cock. He rubbed it against her belly.

She stiffened and tried to push away, muttering something into his mouth that sounded like “No.”

He changed his tack, running his lips down her cheek and along the line of her jaw to nestle in the crook of her neck. She shuddered. Some groan-like sound emanated from her throat. She clutched at his hair.

Thusly encouraged, he sucked at the tender skin of her neck. Nipped.

“Oh! Saints preserve us,” she whispered.

“The saints don’t care,” he responded, switching to the other side of her neck. He found a spot that delighted her even more and feasted there. In her distraction, she didn’t stop the palm skimming over her ribs to cup a breast.

He encased her. Ah. Exquisite. Full and round and pliable. He thumbed a nipple, testing its rigidity. She dipped as her knees gave way. He caught her. Swung her up in his arms and carried her to the bench.

From long experience, he knew better than to give a woman a moment to think. So as soon as he had her settled across his lap and firmly braced against the wall of the folly, he kissed her again. With one hand, he stroked her nipples while with the other, he slowly drew up her skirts.

 

About Sabrina York

Her Royal Hotness, Sabrina York is the award winning author of over 20 hot, humorous stories for smart and sexy readers. Her titles range from sweet & sexy erotic romance to scorching BDSM. Connect with her on twitter @sabrina_york, on Facebook or on Pintrest. Check out Sabrina’s books and read an excerpt on Amazon or wherever e-books are sold. Visit her webpage at www.sabrinayork.com to check out her books, excerpts and contests. Free Teaser Book: http://sabrinayork.com/home-2/sabrina-yorks-teaser-book/ And don’t forget to enter to win the royal tiara!

CURRENT PROMOS

Free Teaser Book: http://sabrinayork.com/home-2/sabrina-yorks-teaser-book/

Newsletter & contest: http://sabrinayork.com/sabrinas-contest-and-newsletter/

Enter to win a signed print copy of scorching Regency romance, Dark Fancy on Goodreads! https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/17409083-dark-fancy

FOLLOW SABRINA

Like my Facebook Author Page https://www.facebook.com/SabrinaYorkBooks

Follow me on Twitter @sabrina_york

Follow me on Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5817917.Sabrina_York

Check out my Pintrest boards: http://www.pinterest.com/sabrinayork/boards/

Like my Amazon Author Page: http://www.amazon.com/Sabrina-York/e/B00856PDEO/ref=sr_tc_2_0?qid=1382929432&sr=8-2-ent

Check out my Barnes & Noble Author page: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/c/sabrina-york

Follow me on Ellora’s Cave: https://www.ellorascave.com/index.php/authors/index/author/slug/sabrina-york/

Books by Sabrina York

Adam’s Obsession (Erotic Contemporary, Ellora’s Cave)

Dark Duke (Erotic Regency, Ellora’s Cave) —Coming soon

Brigand (Erotic Regency, Ellora’s Cave) —Coming soon

Dark Fancy (Erotic Regency, Ellora’s Cave)

Devlin’s Dare: A Tryst island Erotic Romance (Erotic Contemporary)

Dragonfly Kisses: A Tryst Island Erotic Romance (Erotic Contemporary)

Extreme Couponing (Erotic Contemporary, Ellora’s Cave)

Fierce (One Night Stand, Decadence Press)

Five Alarm Fire (Erotic Contemporary for the High Octane Heroes Anthology, Cleis Press)

Folly (Erotic Regency, Ellora’s Cave)

Heart of Ash: A Tryst Island Erotic Romance (Erotic Contemporary)

Lust Eternal (Erotic Fantasy, Ellora’s Cave)

Pushing Her Buttons (Erotic Contemporary, Ellora’s Cave)

Making Over Maris (Erotic Contemporary, Ellora’s Cave) —Coming November 6th

Man Hungry (Erotic Contemporary, Ellora’s Cave)

Rebound: A Tryst Island Erotic Romance (Erotic Contemporary, Available on Amazon)

Rebound is now available on Smashwords

Rising Green (Erotic Horror, Ellora’s Cave)

Saving Charlotte (Erotic Contemporary for the Smokin’ Hot Firemen Anthology, Cleis Press)

Smoking Holt: A Tryst Island Erotic Romance (Erotic Contemporary)

Training Tess (Erotic Contemporary, Ellora’s Cave)

Trickery (Erotic Contemporary with Magical Elements, Ellora’s Cave Hex Line)

Tristan’s Temptation (Erotic Contemporary, Ellora’s Cave)