Friday, October 30, 2015

Book Blast: Halloween: Henry, Saddara and the Neighborhood by Juli Draney

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book blast


clip_image002Halloween: Henry, Saddara and the Neighborhood

Juli Draney

Genre: Fiction, Fantasy, Paranormal, Halloween

Date of Publication: October 2012

Word Count: 9,868

Cover Artist: Mark Garcia

Book Description:

Looking for another fun Halloween story to add to your repertoire? "Halloween: Henry, Saddara and the Neighborhood" is a fictional chapter book for children of all ages! The story depicts the colorful scenes of a legendary Halloween night through the eyes of Henry, a rugged, but sophisticated black cat. The story takes the reader to the quaint town of Greenwood. Henry enjoys his human family and the sights in the town on Halloween, but ventures out into the foothills to his favorite place, the haunted Hostetler mansion.

Henry experiences many supernatural events on his adventure to the old mansion near the woods, including interactions with and sightings of witches, werewolves, musical vampires, ghosts, goblins, and zombies. Henry has a dear friend who inhabits the Hostetler mansion, the ghost of a little girl named Saddara. Saddara's touching story is told in this tale and receives a powerful resolution. Henry somehow escapes this incredible adventure with his life, a scarred ear and wise lessons to impart.

“Halloween: Henry, Saddara and the Neighborhood” is Halloween fun with beauty and wisdom brewed in!

This book is also a Rock Opera Dance Musical!

Available at Amazon

Excerpt from “Meet Henry”

“Do you take one lump of sugar or two? Or seven?” asked little Saddara. Then she erupted into a high pitched giggle.

“I’ll take seven sugars and I would like a mouse on the side,” I answered as we both laughed and sighed. Our pretend tea parties in the rose garden of the old mansion were delightful!

“Well, I guess it’s time for me to go now,” said Saddara. “I don’t know when mother and father and the boys will be here, but I will wait. I am sure they are coming!” With a pet on my head, she would fade away back into her bedroom. I would then make my way home through the lovely, wooded foothills. Those were fun times I had with Saddara. I’ll tell you all about her later on.

I’m Henry, the beloved cat of the Rodriguez-Haskell family. I’m a black cat and a Tom. That and my scruffy, torn ear add to my irresistible charm. I live in the quaint town of Greenwood, named for its beautiful, green foothills. I’m a mix of ruffian and spoiled house cat (though I hate to admit the latter). I’ve garnered quite a bit of street smarts from my nightly cat adventures. I know every back alley and criminal joint in Greenwood, as well as the swanky, uptown parts. My family allows me to roam at night wherever I please, thanks to the cat door they installed. It’s nice to have my true nature recognized. We cats are complex characters, just like humans. I can enjoy a Shakespearean sonnet as well as dumpster diving for a delicious, discarded meal. By the way, you humans should try scavenging more. You’re missing out on all the fun!

I certainly didn’t receive my scruffy, torn ear from a human. I got it from a zombie in an epic battle on a legendary Halloween night. Halloween is my very favorite night of the year as it’s a night when my irresistible charms seem to frighten people out of their mind. If you have more time, I’ll share with you the story of one of the most incredible nights of my life - a night when my fierce scrappiness and sharp intellect were fully used. I must say, I’ve had many such nights. After all, I’m a cat.

Excerpt from “Vampires”

I saw something black lift up from the ground in the cemetery, like a hinged door. Then another one just like it opened a small distance away, still in the cemetery, then several more. They all seemed to open and close in unison. Open-slam-open-slam-open-slam-open-slam! They looked like coffins! I saw a cloaked, human-looking figure emerge from one, then another. These figures all seemed to be men in black cloaks, rising and moving rather calmly and gracefully in the moonlit fog of the night. Vampires.

The total count was eight. They were quietly walking and walking, slowly, without expression around the beautiful garden veranda near the cemetery and the front lawn of the mansion. They had shiny, groomed black hair that glistened in the moonlight, and a pale hue to their skin in cool tones. Some had white streaks blazing through their black hair. Their garments were impeccably beautiful. They wore woolen, pin-striped suits, with the finest tailoring I had ever seen. Long black capes draped from their necks around suit vests and slacks. They wore red roses on their lapels. Their shoes shone in the night like their hair.

After a bit of their calm pacing, I saw one go back to his coffin and produce a chair, then of all things, a beautiful cello and bow.

Excerpt from “The Return”

Exhausted, I walked over right in front of the guitar god zombie, still playing his guitar ferociously. I could still hear the howls of the werewolves and the cackle of the witches in the forest. Catrina and the vampires had fused their music with the zombies forming a type of Halloween heavy metal, funk tango dirge which was truly exhilarating. This was musical fusion as I had never heard before! It was like a rock concert in heaven and hell at the same time. The haunting yet extremely alive music, the cackling, the howling…it all climaxed into a great musical sound that seemed to summon the very sky and enter beyond time. It was totally overwhelming and reached an almost unbearable level of exhilaration. Then, suddenly it all stopped - dead silent. The vampires ceased their playing and dancing. Catrina and her partner stopped mid-turn.

About the author

Juli is a freelance musician, piano teacher and author living in Boise, Idaho. She has accompanied professional dance for many years. She was inspired to write her book in order to compose a Halloween ballet, which turned into a “Rock Opera Dance Musical”. She enjoys teaching, performing, writing, composing, and hanging with her daughter and two dachshunds.

Book blast, Giveaway & Interview: Idol of Glass by Jane Kindred @JaneKindred

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clip_image002Idol of Glass

Looking Glass Gods

Book 3

Jane Kindred

Genre: Dark fantasy with erotic

and romantic elements/LGBTQ

Publisher: Samhain Publishing

Date of Publication: October 27, 2015

ISBN: 978-161922-373-8


Number of pages: 268

Word Count: 91,000

Cover Artist: Kanaxa

Book Description:

Madness didn't destroy her; atoning for it might.

Ra has ruined everything. Returning to life through “renaissance” was her first mistake. Magical excess was her second. Now she must face the consequences of her reckless conjuring. Her beloved Ahr is dead by her hand, and the comfort she’d found in gender-rebel Jak seems lost to her forever.

Ra takes solace in punishment—and in communion with her punisher, the mysterious and merciless MeerShiva. But Shiva has spun a skein of secrecy over centuries—secrets about Ra’s origins and the origins of the Meer themselves. And as the secrets begin to unravel, someone else’s magic is at work from the hidden realm. Someone with the ability to redraw the fabric of the world itself.

As the picture becomes clearer, Ra must face some harsh realities: not everything is about her, and punishment isn’t enough. She must stand before Jak and try to atone for what she’s done. But seeing Jak will reveal one more secret Ra never saw coming—and one that may mean her own undoing.

Product Warnings: Contains scenes of intense BDSM, non-binary genders, and a preponderance of kick-ass women.

Amazon ARe BN BooksaMillion iTunes Kobo Samhain


Even spattered in dried blood and pieces of the dead man’s flesh, they cut a striking pair of figures on the dunes of the falend. Jet and dark poppy, their hair hung down their backs in the colors of atrocity. Light caressed them, knowing they were more than human, rippling iridescent over their tresses like quicksilver in the presence of the divine.

As in the youth of her former life, Ra was attired in the manner of a Meeric prince, the plain kaftan of black silk muting much of the violence that covered her.

MeerShiva was less subtle, the pearl-embroidered train of her sheer citrine gown, from the same ancient era, dragging behind her, caked in mud from the heath they’d left behind. They were two livid strokes of pigment on the canvas of sun-blanched sand.

Satisfied with the decimation of the remains they’d dumped in the marsh outside the small trading post beyond Mole Downs, they had simply walked away, and continued walking until they’d left the high country altogether. Coming down out of the mound-riddled moors and across the lowland heath, they followed the Filial River toward the east, past the falls that plunged beneath the bluff at the wasteland’s edge, and into the high desert north of the Anamnesis delta, until at last even Meeric sensibility demanded rest.

The palette of the sky behind the scattered stars held the deep lack of pigment that came with the hours after midnight, and they were in the center of nothing, a vast stretch of arid land that separated mound country from the Deltan lowlands. With a few murmured words, Shiva raised a single tower around them, round and made of stone, with windowless walls that stretched up over them into immeasurable heights. Meeric conjuring was often merely out of whim, influenced by the current state of mind and body. They lay on a floor of heather, an anomalous afterthought, with barely a pause between waking and sleep.


Jak lay at Geffn’s side, staring at the ceiling. They shared a bed for comfort, though nothing more. The question of their long estrangement had been settled once and for all in the formal dissolution of their bond after Ahr’s body had been consigned to the elements in the Bone Fire. During all that ceremony—the harvest rites marking the turn of the year, the final parting with Ahr, the unbinding rite in which Jak and Geffn had cut the red braided strings they’d worn around their wrists to symbolize their union and set each other free—Jak had been in a state of stasis. Unable to feel anything, unable to fully comprehend the loss of Ahr, despite the grand Deltan memorial.

In mound culture, funeral rites were less dramatic. Haethfalters didn’t believe in the necessity of the destruction of the body by fire to free the spirit for its next life. Hadn’t, at least, until Ra had come, having effected her own cremation from the grave in order to hasten her return, “renaissanced” as a fully formed adult in an instant on a cold winter night. But that was an exception to the rule. Ra’s renaissance was devilry and madness, and Jak should have recognized it from the start.

Haethfalters practiced a form of sky burial, building a platform for the deceased and laying the body out in the elements to be excarnated by carrion birds. Burying bodies below ground was impractical in a place where the ground was frozen half the year and where underground real estate was at a premium for their souterrain dwellings. When the bones were picked clean, they were taken and placed in the family’s burial cairn—a place that didn’t require such deep digging, and which they had to dig only once, during the warmer months.

They’d used the sky burial platform as Ahr’s crematory, and Jak had watched his elements spiral up into the warm autumn wind. Smoke and embers and ash. It hadn’t seemed real. It hadn’t seemed like Ahr’s body wrapped in fragrant oils and spices and covered in flower garlands. It hadn’t seemed like anyone’s body at all as the platform was consumed in bright flames against the dusk sky. It had all been too surreal.

But there’d been no denying the reality once the urn was placed in Jak’s hands. Within the unassuming clay vessel was all that was left of Jak’s dearest friend.

Jak had led that final ceremony, the procession to the family cairn, the slow march alone down the dank steps beneath the circle of stones, accompanied by Oldman Rem’s mournful highland fiddle from above, to place Ahr’s vessel in the narrow vault that normally held the bones of the dead. By custom, and not belief, Jak murmured prayers to the ancestors—Jak’s mother, Fyn, and Fyn’s parents, whom Jak had never known—and then tried to say good-bye to Ahr somehow. The finality made it impossible, and Jak dropped onto wobbly knees before the vault and wept.

Ahr was family to Jak, and no one had questioned his interment under the cairn. Family, after all, was a broad term in mound society, having little to do with blood. In the niche beside Ahr’s were the bones of Fyn, the last person Jak had said good-bye to here. And on Fyn’s other side lay the remains of Geffn’s brother, Pim, who’d died before Geffn was born. They were all connected to Jak in one way or another. But kneeling there among the sputter of tallow candles as the sobs receded into sighs, Jak had felt the wrongness of it. Ahr was a Deltan. His ashes didn’t belong below the highland moor.

Jak sighed, still staring up at the stone ceiling. There was still so much damage in Haethfalt from the rains. It was a terrible time to leave. But Jak couldn’t let this wait until spring.

“I have to take him home.” Jak spoke in the darkness beside Geffn. “I know I’m needed here to help rebuild, but Merit deserves to know. They were lovers. He should have the ashes.”

“You do what you need to.” Geffn squeezed Jak’s hand atop the blanket. “The moundhold will be here for you. Whatever you decide to do will be all right.”

But it wasn’t true. It would not be all right. Nothing could ever be all right with so much gone wrong.


Character Name: MeerShiva

Character Bio: 6’1” ageless goddess with long, blood-red hair, porcelain skin, and nails as sharp as shards of glass. Not to be trifled with.


Describe yourself what is your worst and best quality?

I have no worst quality, unless you count my tendency to rip the entrails out of evil men. Personally, I consider that quality one of my best.

What is the one thing you wish other people knew about you?

That the divine blood everyone is so fond of leaching out of me for their precious blessings has to come from somewhere, and I do not, as legend would have it, have ice water in my veins. Prick me and I bleed. (And then you bleed, because seriously, did you actually just touch me?)

What is your biggest secret, something no one knows about?

Pardon me, but I can’t breathe at the moment because I’m laughing so hard I may actually faint for the first time in my eternal existence. As if I would share that with mortals.

What are you most afraid of?


What do you want more than anything?

To be delightfully surprised.

What is your relationship status?

Ha! It’s complicated. The poor dear was so traumatized he’s forgotten the one night we spent together 400 years ago, and yet he seeks me out continually without knowing it. Then there’s his daughter, who, technically, is my daughter, but I gave birth to a son, and he’s dead, so it doesn’t count. Stop judging me. Nothing happened. It’s just that she’s rather extraordinary. You try living for over a thousand years in a world where no one is your equal.

How would you describe your sense of fashion?

Exquisite. I fashion the elements around me according to my mood. Designers base their gowns on me.

How much of a rebel are you?

What an odd question. There is no higher authority than myself. What on earth would I have to rebel against?

What do you consider to be your greatest achievement?

Not killing everyone on sight.

What is your idea of happiness?

An uninhabited planet.

What is your current state of mind?

Madness. Care to make something of it?

What is your most treasured possession?

Do people count? No? Then I’ll just say my hair. People would kill for it. And a few have.

What is your most marked characteristic?

Well it certainly isn’t mercy. Let’s say intolerance for stupidity and leave it at that.

What is it that you most dislike?

Abusive men. Followed by stupidity. Abusive stupid men are the absolute worst.

Which living person do you most despise?

Living? Those I despise don’t tend to live very long. So I suppose I would have to say myself.

What is your greatest regret?

One night 400 years ago.

What is the quality you most like in a man?


What is the quality you most like in a woman?


Who is your favorite hero in fiction?

Lady Macbeth.

Which living person do you most admire?

Oddly enough, a mortal named Jak. I know. I’m surprised at myself.

If you could change one thing about yourself what would it be?

Since I have no flaws, this question is preposterous. ~sharpens nails~

What is your motto?

If I be waspish, best beware my sting.



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About the author



Jane Kindred is the author of epic fantasy series The House of Arkhangel’sk, Demons of Elysium, and Looking Glass Gods. She spent her formative years ruining her eyes reading romance novels in the Tucson sun and watching Star Trek marathons in the dark. She now writes to the sound of San Francisco foghorns while two cats slowly but surely edge her off the side of the bed.

Cover Reveal: Mortality by Ava O’Shay @AvaOShay

mortality banner (1)

Title: Mortality, Book Three of the Serenity Series
Series: The Serenity Series    mortality gif
Vol or Book #: 3
Author: Ava O’Shay
Audience: New Adult/ Adult +18
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Format: ebook and paperback
Publisher: Raven Books and Design
Cover by: Raven Books and Design, photograph
Editor: Eden Plantz
Pages: 250
Date to be Published: January 2016

blurb (5)
Leaving his rocky past behind Quill heads out with the band Pick-Six. Quickly thrust into the lime light of a rock and roll super star he finds his past isn’t so easy to leave behind. Alcohol, drugs, and an endless stream of available and willing woman push Quill to his limits of restraint. But he has more at stake than his sobriety, Quill will do almost anything to win Assad back even if it means baring his soul on stage. Just when things seem to be going his way Quill’s mother comes back into his life. A force he has never been able to overcome. Soon Quill’s feeling of responsibility for his family threatens to take him and the band down. Struggling against his demons Quill must learn to take what he wants before it’s too late.
excerpt (2)
Sweat trailed down Quill’s back, his hair matted to his forehead, the rays of the overhead lights were hotter than the face of the sun but the screams from the row of girls, five deep in front of the stage were making it all worth it.
He pulled the microphone out of its stand. His band, Pick-Six was on the last songs of the set. The rush adrenaline laced with anxiety was the high Quill used to get him through the nerves threatening to destroy each performance.
“It will get easier,” Simon, their manager said before each gig.
It hadn’t.
Each night Quill tried to figure out how he’d ended up the lead singer of a band he’d watched at the local rave bar. Each night he fought his inner demons so he could get through another performance without allowing himself a hit, a drink, or a hard screw. He’d sworn off any type of crutch to get him through. However he’d done it before the band hit it big and he was thrust in front of an overflowing bar full of people every night. He was going to face his fears and God only knew—his feelings—head on even if it killed him.
No more burying.
No more hiding.
And if people didn’t like it they could go fuck themselves.
author (1)
After many years trudging through the social awkwardness of high school and the whirl wind of college romances I finally landed in the Seattle area writing about the hell, horror, and don't forget the hot romance of youth. I love all things outdoors and can be found hiking, kayaking, mountain biking or doing anything active. I am a former Mrs. Washington United States but hung up my crown to focus on family and career. I love to learn and possess many degrees. I am a Christy McCullough Excellence in Education Award winner and I am Nationally Board Certified. I love to interact with my readers and meet them at signings so never be shy to come up and give me a hug and ask me anything.
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Thursday, October 29, 2015

Book Blast, Giveaway & Interview: The Talented 2: Past Lives Revealed by Desy Smith

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clip_image002_thumb[1]The Talented 2:

Past Lives Revealed

The Talented

Book Two

Desy Smith

Genre: YA Romance Fantasy Fiction

Publisher: Floebe Publishing

Date of Publication: September 20, 2015

ISBN: 978-1512216714

ASIN: 1512216712

Number of pages: 223

Word Count: 55,377

Cover Artist: Rose Smith

Book Description:

Carmel’s time at the H.O.T hasn’t been all that pleasant. She’s gotten drugged, captured, and had to endure her painful change. When Carmel finally starts to enjoy her life at the H.O.T with her friends and her boyfriend Devon; Queen Ice, her annoying past life, contacts her. Queen Ice not only tells her about the impending battle between the good angels and the evil angels, she also continues to pop up in Carmel’s mind, showing her images from her life in the past. Now, Carmel, her friends along with her boyfriend, race to find a sword that they believe will give them leverage in the battle to come.

Unfortunately it isn’t as easy as it seems. There are others who are aware of the sword, and they’ll do anything to retrieve it before Carmel does. In addition, Carmel can’t use her Water or Ice Talent to help in the battle and she doesn’t know why! On top of that, there’s one or more people in Carmel's group who aren’t whom they say they are. Can Carmel find the sword? Will she be able to figure out why her Talents aren’t working? Can she discover who in the group is lying to her and the others about who they really are?

Be sure to read the second series of The Talented by Author Desy Smith to see how the story unfolds!

Available at Amazon and


We’re a couple of streets down from the museum, waiting on Devon to issue instructions. Earlier, as we laid in bed, I brought up Ms. Platinum Blonde from the airport. Her name is Tray and as I thought, it wasn’t anything serious. He did sleep with her before he met me and that was it. It was just about sex, and honestly, that didn’t bother me. I knew Devon had a life before he met me. I would be dumb to think otherwise.

“Okay, so here’s the plan, we go in teams of two.” Devon says inside the car outside the museum. I know I should have been overjoyed because this is my first mission with them. But I’m not. My lower back was bothering me. But I endure the pain, because I knew if Devon found out, I would be left behind, again. “Mel and Ricky are one team, and Flora.” He says her name with disgust. “And I are another team.”

“Oh, no sir.” Flora says. “I would rather go by myself.”

“Flora, go with Devon. This will give you two time to bond with each other.” I add. I look at Ricky who is nodding his head in agreement.

“I don’t want to bond with him!” Flora yells. Ricky gently grabs her and they both get out the car and start talking, well, arguing.

“I told you she wouldn’t want to do it.” Devon says. I roll my eyes.

“You weren’t very nice about it.”

“Really? I thought I was.” Liar. Flora and Ricky open the car door.

“Okay, we’re ready, and Flora said she would be honored to be in your company.” Ricky says.

“You’re pushing it.” Flora replies with her arms cross, glaring at Devon.

We make our way toward the back entrance of the museum, where two dead police officers are holding the door open.

“Someone’s already here.” Devon says and Flora gives him a ‘duh’ look. He and Ricky move them both inside the door and close it. I notice the alarm on the right side of the door, smoking.

“The alarm system has been fried, which prevents the alarm from being triggered.” He tells us. “Okay, let’s go ahead and split up. Flora and I will take downstairs, Mel and Ricky will take the second floor and we will meet on the third floor, and divide that equally.” He turns his attention to Ricky. “If anything happens to Carmel, do know I will take your life.” Ricky sighs while I roll my eyes. There he goes again, threatening to kill people.

The museum is really creepy at night without any lighting and people. I and Ricky’s first stop is the Egyptian room.

“Did the Egyptians exist when the angels were here?” I question. Even though my back is killing me, and I want to soak in a bathtub, eating eggs with syrup, I am joyous because I have alone time with Ricky, which means I can grill him.

“Yes, remember the angels came down when Adam and Eve were placed on earth.” Oh yeah. I start to recall the story Flora told me.

“Your great times 10 grandfather knows a lot about the Angels.” I say as I pick up another vase and look inside before tossing it in the ‘don’t need’ pile. “I think it’s amazing how the stories of Queen Ice were passed down from child to child, but maybe they’re a little less than factual.”

“I don’t believe I understand what you’re implying.” I turn to look at him, and try to make out his facial expression but couldn’t because of the moonlight being the only lighting in the museum.

“I’m just saying people tell stories to each other and sometimes they add a little extra in. Who’s to say that didn’t happen?” I’m purposely trying to anger him, hoping his rage will make him spill his secret accidently.

“It didn’t.”

“How would you know? You weren’t there?” I stand up. “Or were you?”

“You’re acting like Devon now. Do you have something to say, or will you speak in riddles for the rest of the night?” Ricky states calmly, showing no signs of anger.

“Were you there, Ricky?” I ask, getting to the point, enough of the bull crap.

“There, as in I was an Angel in the Angel era?”

“Yes.” He laughs.

“That’s unlikely, I would be very old and senile.” Anything is possible, I say to myself, repeating what Ice told me weeks ago.

“Well, I don’t believe we age like humans. Actually, I think we can be century’s old and still look young.” Like Ricky, I thought. “Time doesn’t matter to us.” Suddenly, a light bulb goes off in my mind. I make my way to the wall where a directory is hung. I notice a room on the third floor dedicated to artifacts with no accurate time. Otherwise known as the Timeless room. The vase has to be in there.

“I think I figured it out, Ricky.”

“What, how angels age?” I shake my head.

“Nope, I think I know where the vase is at.” I run out the door, ignoring Ricky as he calls my name, and up the stairs. I walk down the hall until I come upon a cracked door with the words Timeless printed in white calligraphy on the door. I found it.

I’m sitting on the floor, looking through another row of blue vases. I was starting to understand how Devon felt, this whole thing is repetitive and annoying. I want to find the vase and be done with this part of the mission. I keep asking Ice if she sees the vase, but of course, when I need her the most, she ignores me.

I get ready to give up, until a particular vase catches my attention in the moonlight, almost like God was putting a spotlight on it. The vase is round, and blue with snow white flames from the bottom to top. It’s really beautiful. I go to grab it and turn it upside down. On the bottom there is an engraving.

“Engraved it shall say To Queen, From Flame.” Ice says. Look who finally decides to make an appearance. I look at the inscription and it says just that.

Author Interview

Did you always wanted to be a writer? If not what did you want to be?

No, during middle and high school, I wanted to be a fashion designer.

When did you first consider yourself a “writer”?

After completing my first novel in middle school.

How long did it take to get your first book published?

5 years

Do you do another job except for writing and can you tell us more about it?

Yes, I am a Resident Advisor. Which means I handle the residents on my floor staying in the dormitory at the college. They come to me if they have problems with their roommates, or if they have questions about the college or university.

What is the name of your latest book, and if you had to summarize it in less than 20 words what would you say?

Supernatural Resident Advisor. The book is about Starlette, a witch being a resident advisor to witches, vampires, fairies and wolves.

Who is your publisher? Or do you self-publish?

I self-publish under my publishing company, Floebe Publishing.

How long does it usually take you to write a book, from the original idea to finishing writing it?

3 to 6 months depending on how busy I am with work/school.

What can we expect from you in the future? ie More books of the same genre? Books of a different genre?

More books in the same genre and continuation of other books.

What genre would you place your books into?

Fantasy Fiction, Romance

What made you decide to write that genre of book?

Because of my love for this genre, I am a huge fantasy fiction fan. I love watching movies the supernatural, and the different interruptions for them.

Do you have a favorite character from your books? And why are they your favorite?

Yes, Devon because he’s such a complexed character. When you think you have him figured out, you continue reading and discover you don’t.

How long have you been writing? and who or what inspired you to write?

I’ve been writing since I was 10, and I wrote because I didn’t have any new books to read, and I was bored. Now I write because I have stories that I want to share with the world.

Do you have a certain routine you have for writing? Ie You listen to music, sit in a certain chair?

I watch a lot of TV when I write, like reality tv or project runway. I cannot write in silence, that drives me crazy.

Do you read all the reviews of your book/books?

Yes, even the bad ones. I want to know what the readers think, and what they like or do not like. I use their feedback when writing my other novels.

Do you choose a title first, or write the book then choose the title?

I choose the title first. I’m one of those people who does things in orders.

How do you come up with characters names and place names in your books?

I don’t know, sometimes I see or hear a name and want to use it in my book. If I don’t find a name I like, I make one up, this applies to the places in my book as well.

Are character names and place names decided after their creation? Or do you pick a character/place name and then invent them?

Well, when I start writing the book, I have one character name and one place name in mind, but as I finish up the book, I sometimes find myself changing the name, not all the time, though.

Do you decide on character traits (ie shy, quiet, tomboy girl) before writing the whole book or as you go along?

I do for my main character, but the minor character traits changes depending on the type of traits the main character has.

Are there any hidden messages or morals contained in your books? (Morals as in like Aesops Fables type of "The moral of this story is..")

Yes, the most important moral of this book is not to judge a person until you discover how life or decisions they’ve made shaped them into that person.

Which format of book do you prefer, eBook, hardback, or paperback? heavy sometimes.

Ebook, those paperbacks, and hardbacks get pretty heavy.

What is your favorite book and Why? Have you read it more than once?

King Hall by Scarlette Dawn. The characters aren't whiny, and the main character is a woman who’s discovering herself and doesn’t think she better than anyone else. I’ve read it numerous times over.

Do you think books transfer to movies well? Which is you favorite/worst book to movie transfer?

Sometimes, depending on the author and who decides to direct it. My favorite book that was transferred to a movie is Harry Potter. The worst book to transfer to a movie is Twilight; I seriously hate it.

Your favorite food is?


Your favorite singer/group is?


Your favorite color is?


Your favorite Author is?

Scarlette Dawn



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Desiree “Desy” Smith was born and raised in Dallas, Texas. As an avid reader, Desy read several books until she ran out of things to read. Having nothing else to read, at the age of thirteen, she decided to write her own book. Her love for reading soon turned into a passion for writing. She self-published her first book, The Talented, under Floebe Publishing, which she started to give a voice to new and aspiring authors. Desy writes to inspire and to provide an escape for anyone who wants to live in a fantasy world without worrying about the challenges of everyday life. The Talented is part one of a five part series, with the second installment arriving finally here. Currently, Desy is hard at work on her third novel, Supernatural Resident Advisor with an expected release date of October 2015. Desy’s genre of choice is fantasy romance fiction. Aside from reading and writing Desy enjoys various types of food, especially dessert. When she’s not reading she can probably be found eating a cupcake or two.




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Book Blast & Interview: Season Of The Witch by L.J.K. Oliva @writermama

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clip_image002Season Of The Witch

Shades Below

Book 1.5

L.J.K. Oliva

Genre: urban fantasy/paranormal romance

Date of Publication: Oct. 1, 2015

Word Count: 99,733

Cover Artist: Amy Mateyka

Book Description:

Something wicked this way comes...well, more wicked than usual.

Georgia Clare needs help, and fast. As the lone survivor of—and witness to—her coven's brutal massacre, she's felt the killer hunting her. There's just one problem: the rest of San Francisco's witching community wants nothing to do with her, and the one man she can turn to doesn't do witches.

Darius deCompostela has done his best to steer clear of subversive affairs. A private investigator and reluctant medium, the last thing he wants is to advertise his existence to the things that go bump in the night. But then Georgia knocks on his door, and try as he might, he can't turn her away.

It's just one case, after all. It's not like it's going to change his life…

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It was her third night in a row of frozen pasta for dinner. Not that she was counting.

Georgia popped the top off yet another bottle of Corona and took a long draw. She leaned back against the counter. The microwave hummed behind her. She glanced over her shoulder at the digital clock on the unused stove. Sighed.

Nearly six o'clock, and still no sign of deCompostela. The pang of disappointment in her chest chafed at her pride. She should have known better than to believe he would stop by. He'd already made it abundantly clear he thought she was out of her mind.

Truth be told, the possibility had occurred to her. It had been a week since the new moon, and she hadn't seen hide nor hair Whatever it was. If not for the lingering scent of blood in her nostrils, she could almost believe she'd hallucinated the whole thing.

The microwave beeped. Georgia took one last drag of beer, then set her bottle down next to the two that had preceded it and opened the door. Fragrant steam rushed out; a heady blend of tomato, basil, and MSG.

Georgia reached in and grabbed the microwaveable plastic bowl, hissed and yanked her hand back again. She scanned the kitchen for something she could use as a potholder. Finally, she settled on a bunched-up paper towel.

The hairs on the back of her neck prickled as she pulled out the pasta bowl. Georgia tensed, turned...

...Just in time to see her living room window explode inward in a hail of glass. She let out a startled shriek. A massive, dark creature suddenly occupied the space where her coffee table used to sit.

Everything else seemed to happen in slow-motion. The creature straightened, shaking shards of glass off its dull black fur. Its ears twitched towards her. Its lips peeled back from its razor-sharp teeth.

Georgia's chest seized. Recognition slammed through her. The creature snarled. Any lingering doubts she'd been harboring instantly evaporated.

It was here.

Georgia blindly hurled her steaming pasta bowl in the direction of the living room and bolted from the kitchen. She looked over in time to see it connect with a loud splat squarely between the intruder's eyes. The creature howled and clawed desperately at its face.

Georgia didn't wait for it to recover. Her altar. If she could just get to her altar, she could banish the ugly fucker and buy herself some time.

The creature was planted in the dead center of the straightest path across the living room. Georgia veered wide. She had almost cleared the front door when it flew open in a barrage of splinters. Someone barreled into her. They both sprawled to the ground.

The new intruder landed on top. Georgia hissed, bucked, clawed at anything she could reach. Her mystery assailant scrambled off her.

"Jesus Christ, would you calm down, you crazy—what the f*ck?"

deCompostela. Georgia didn't let herself pause to feel relief. She rolled to her feet, grabbed his hand and dragged him after her. They dove behind her sagging couch just as the creature regained its bearings. It threw back its head and let out a roar that shook her remaining windows.

Darius sniffed. "Is that tomato sauce?"

Georgia didn't answer. Her focus was squarely on her altar again. It was still too far away. "Wait here."


She leaped to her feet. The creature's eyes locked on her. Georgia swallowed the terror that welled in her chest and sprinted for the altar. She skidded to the floor in front of it like a baseball player sliding into home, yanked open one of the drawers and fumbled for the first items that came to mind.

The creature roared again. A blast of superheated air hit the back of her neck. Georgia braced for the feel of teeth around her throat.

"Right here, ugly!"

She turned in time to see Darius' massive fist catch the creature square in the nose. The creature yelped, then retaliated with a swipe of an even-more-massive paw. The blow swept Darius clear off his feet. He flew backwards and hit the wall with a dull crunch, then sagged to the ground with a wheeze. Flecks of paint and drywall fluttered to the floor around him.

But he'd bought her the time she needed. Georgia held up her black candle and flicked her Bic lighter to life. She touched the flame to the wick. The creature's eyes widened.

"Black, the color of protection. Black, the color of night."

The creature snarled. Darius heaved himself to his feet and surged forward. He wrapped his arms around the creature's hind legs and held tight.

"Black, the color of silence. Black, the color of stillness."

The creature swiped at Darius again. Its paw caught empty air where his head had been just seconds earlier. It tried to move. Darius' arms visibly tightened. Muscles bunched under his suit jacket.

"With black I banish thee. With will I banish thee." Georgia poured intent into her words. Her voice grew heavier, fuller. "Return to the night. Return to the silence. Return to the stillness. Be gone from this place."

The creature let out a strange yelp-hiss as invisible forces compelled it to obey. Darius released it and scrambled backwards.

Georgia lifted her chin. Magic crackled through her veins, tinged her vision black. "Be gone from this place," she repeated. "With black and with will, by my power and by the power of the Lady, I banish thee. So mote it be." She blew out the candle.

The creature vanished in a swirl of acrid black smoke. Its final, infuriated roar echoed through the small apartment.

Georgia finally allowed herself to breathe again. For the first time, she realized she was coated in a fine film of glass and wood slivers. She reached up to dust herself off, at the last minute thought better of it.

Instead, she turned to Darius. He had hauled himself onto her sad excuse of a sofa. His hands were planted on his knees. He stared at the spot where the creature had last stood.

Georgia crossed her arms and cleared her throat. She waited until he looked up at her, then arched an eyebrow. "So. Do you believe me now?"


Character Name: Georgia Clare

Character Bio: Lena Alan’s best friend. Bookkeeper at Cross Your Teas. Badass Biker Witch and overall occult superhero.

Normally for character interviews, I like to sit my characters down at their favorite restaurant and have a nice, long chat. Sadly, neither my nor Georgia's schedules could accommodate a meeting like that right now. I did the next best thing, sent her the questions, and let her fill them out at her leisure.

Without further ado, meet Georgia Clare.


Describe yourself what is your worst and best quality?

Well, I'm a witch. I think that's pretty f*cking cool. Best quality: I'm persistent (some people would say stubborn, but they're just haters). Worst quality: I used to have a bit of a death magic addiction.

What is the one thing you wish other people knew about you?

I'm really not so bad, once you get past the whole death magic thing. I'm fun at a party, I have an awesome motorcycle, and I'm as loyal as they come.

What is your biggest secret something no one knows about?

I put on a tough face, but it stings like hell when people ice me out because of my past.

What are you most afraid of?


What do you want more than anything?


What is your relationship status?

Dating. Want more? Read the book. ;-)

How would you describe your sense of fashion?

Badass. I like leather and metal and denim and more leather. Oh, and did I mention leather?

How much of a rebel are you?

How much of a rebel is it possible to be?

What do you considered to be your greatest achievement?

I banished a goddess once (long story; again, read the book).

What is your idea of happiness?

Darius deCompostela.

What is your current state of mind?

Groovy, man.

What is your most treasured possession?

My 2001 Honda Valkyrie. I call her Dolores. She's a total bitch.

What is your most marked characteristic?

Physically? I have these violet (not purple, VIOLET) lowlights that are pretty awesome. Non-physically? Hell if I know. My sparkling personality, I guess.

What is it that you most dislike?

Judgmental bitches - er, witches.

Which living person do you most despise?

Supreme Overlord Oliva threatened me with a Jersey Shore marathon if I gave away any spoilers. the book!

What is your greatest regret?

I did a lot of things when I was young and stupid that I'm not proud of.

What is the quality you most like in a man?


What is the quality you most like in a woman?


Who is your favorite hero in fiction?

That guy who played Thor. What's his name? The blond one with the muscles. Delicious.

Which living person do you most admire?

Pope Francis. For a Catholic, he's all right.

If you could change one thing about yourself what would it be?

I wouldn't mind being taller.

What is your motto?

Ride on.



About the author



L.J.K. Oliva is the devil-may-care alter-ego of noir romance novelist Laura Oliva. She likes her whiskey strong, her chocolate dark, and her steak bloody. L.J.K. likes monsters… and knows the darkest ones don’t live in closets.








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Book blast, Giveaway & Interview: Bash, Volume I by Candace Blevins @CandaceBlevins

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clip_image002Bash, Volume I

Rolling Thunder Motorcycle Club

Book Three

Candace Blevins

Genre: Motorcycle Club,

Paranormal Romance, BDSM

Publisher: Excessica

Date of Publication: October 16, 2015

Number of pages: 425

Word Count: 63,000

Cover Artist: Syneca Featherstone

Book Description:

What do you get when you mix a bad-ass werewolf biker with a beautiful she-wolf who grew up as the MC President’s daughter?


Book one of the Bash trilogy…

Angelica was raised not only as a biker’s daughter, but as Bud’s daughter — the president of the Atlanta RTMC, which meant she also had dozens of ‘uncles’ who made sure she was safe, happy, loved, secure.

Needless to say, her virginity was still solidly intact when she left for college.

She goes to school up north, where no one knows she’s a biker’s daughter at heart, and thoroughly enjoys her time as a civilian. She gets rid of her pesky virginity right away, but is mostly a good girl while she buckles down to get her degree, staying at school even during the summers to take as many classes as she can fit in.

She’s a different person when she comes home with her Master’s degree, and in spite of her intention to remain a civilian, some of the bikers don’t seem so much like uncles, anymore.

Warning: Lots of hot sex, a touch of BDSM, and an abundance of bad-ass werewolf bikers who are used to getting their way.

This is book one of a three book story. There’s a tiny cliffhanger at the end, but only three weeks until book two releases.



Chapter Two

Eight years ago


Kayla met me in the bathroom after last period, and watched as I changed out of my super tiny mini-skirt into jeans. God, if my dad saw me in this skirt he’d have an aneurism.

“I can’t believe you lost Brain. God, Ang, he’s the best biker-bitch you’ve had yet.”

Speaking of aneurisms, my dad nearly had one when he found out Kayla called me Ang. He calls me Angel, but says no one else is allowed to shorten my name. One of the reasons I love Kayla is she isn’t afraid of my dad, or any of the other bikers, and she just kept calling me what she wanted.

I shrugged as I buttoned my jeans and stowed the skirt in my backpack. “I got one of the new guys, I’ve only met him a couple of times. He looks like he’s pissed at the world, and I seriously doubt he’s going to be any fucking help at all with my calculus or chemistry homework.”

“He have a cool name?” she asked as we left the bathroom.

“Bash, and best I can tell, it isn’t ‘cause he’s bashful. And damn, the boy is beautiful.” And he’d be so fucking pissed if he knew I’d called him a boy.

“How you gonna break him in?”

I shook my head. “Haven’t decided. He’s actually kinda scary, even for one of my dad’s men. Also, I don’t think he’s that much older than us. I know when he first came, he couldn’t have even the prospect patch yet, ’cause he wasn’t old enough. They treated him like one, which had to suck, but he didn’t get his first patch until a few weeks ago, so I think he just turned eighteen.”

“You know his story?”

I shook my head. “He has a fucked up accent though. He isn’t from around here.”

Kayla showed the assistant principal the note from her mom saying she could ride home with me, and he waved us to the RTMC vehicle waiting in the car line.

I got into the front passenger seat and settled my backpack at my feet as I put my seatbelt on and told him, “Bash, meet Kayla. She’s my BFF and you’re her ride now, too. Not just mine.”

He breathed deep, and I assumed he’d just realized she’s human and not wolf, and I added, “We have a problem, you take care of her first, then me. I can handle myself a few minutes, but she isn’t a fighter. Get me?”

He pulled forward and glanced in his rear view mirror at Kayla before looking forward again. “My orders are to keep you safe, Princess.”

I sighed and leaned my head back, looking at the road instead of him. “Those are your orders from my dad. Thing is, I can make your life a living hell if I want, or I can help make this a cushy assignment until you get your patch. I’ve grown up in the club, I know the drill. When Kayla and I became best friends in the fourth grade, our dads had a talk. Their agreement was she’d come to the house, but never to the club, and there’d be no parties at our house when she’s over. She hasn’t been around ya’ll much at all. Her parents have met my prospect chauffeurs over the years, and they’re mostly chilled about it now, but they’ll need to meet you sometime this week.”

“Basically,” Kayla said from the backseat, “you’re our bitch now. You’re our ride when we need one, and you go get stuff we need, even if it’s tampons at two in the morning. You’ll carry our packages for us when we go shopping at the mall, and if we ask if our ass looks fat when we try on clothes, you’ll be honest and tell it to us straight from a guy’s perspective.”

“And not,” I added, my voice low and deep, “from my father’s viewpoint.” I held my wolf in, so I didn’t growl at him in front of Kayla. “I know you’re supposed to cock-block us, but I also know you can’t actually hurt any of the guys.” He held his hand up, thinking he could silence me, and I said, “Fuck you, asshole. I’ll talk when I fuckin’ want to.”

He pulled into a church parking lot, put the SUV into park, tossed his cellphone into the little compartment in the dash, and got out.

Bash might only be eighteen, but he wasn’t a boy. He paced like a caged animal and I realized he was on the edge. This wasn’t a wolf thing, though — it was something else. He moved with a lethal, fluid grace that set something inside me on fire, and I didn’t get out of the vehicle, knowing he’d smell it on me.

I’d had a crush on my prospect when I was twelve, and my dad had given me someone else and then hadn’t assigned anyone else who was my type, since. Brain had truly been like a big brother to me. I mean, I knew he was dangerous, all the men of the RTMC are, but to me, they mean safety. I’m their little sister, the president’s daughter, and they’ll all protect me with their life.

I instinctively knew Bash didn’t necessarily represent safety for me, though.

With his back to me, he said, “Out of the car, Princess. You and I need to have a talk without your friend hearing.”

My insides shook from the threat of violence in his voice, and I didn’t want to get out of the car. I reminded myself he couldn’t hurt me without risking my dad’s wrath, and felt my body chilling out. I couldn’t go outside smelling of fear — he’d eat me alive.

I heard him with my wolf hearing, but Kayla wouldn’t have a clue he’d spoken. I sighed and told her, “Stay here a sec. Maybe we pushed him too hard? I’m gonna go talk to him.”

“He’s kind of scary, Ang.”

“My dad wouldn’t have assigned someone who’d hurt us, Kayla. I’ll just go talk to him a second. It’ll be okay.”

As I got out of the car, I suddenly wasn’t so sure my dad wouldn’t have upped his game with my prospects. He and my mom had a huge argument last week, but she convinced him it was time he let me start double-dating with an early curfew. She’d successfully argued they had to let me take baby-steps and learn responsibility slowly, or I’d go wild when I went off to college without him around to supervise my every move. He’d finally agreed to it, but only if my prospect tagged along. It was more than I’d hoped for, but at the time I’d thought it’d be Brain.

As I got out, Bash said, “Leave your cellphone — and anything else with a battery — in the car.”

This was standard RTMC procedure when we wanted to make sure we weren’t recorded. Apparently, he was gonna say stuff my dad wouldn’t approve of. I tossed my phone onto the dashboard, turned the radio up a little, and told Kayla, “I’ll be back in a minute.”

I followed him off the parking lot pavement into grass, assuring myself all the while that my dad wouldn’t have sent someone likely to hurt me. Still, Bash was harsher than the other guys my dad had assigned me, and I needed to be careful with my strategy. As soon as I caught up to him, he said, “Here’s the way it’s gonna be, Princess. I may not be able to bash any of your boy-toys’ heads in with witnesses around, but that don’t mean I can’t do it later. You want ‘em to live? You make sure they stay on my good side. Nobody disrespects someone in the RTMC, not even a prospect.” His voice deepened, and I heard his wolf. “Second thing, is you may be under RTMC protection, but you’re a split tail, and that means you do what you’re told. You want me to show you respect? You show it to me. I’ll throw your words right back at ya — we can either get along, or not. I don’t give a flying fuck which you choose, Princess. You think you can make my life hell? You have no idea what I can do to yours.”

Yeah, this I could work with. I gave him a half smile and shrugged one shoulder. “Take a deep breath, Bash. You smell any fear comin’ off me?”

He took a whiff, shook his head, his eyes suddenly a touch uncertain.

“My dad stopped assigning me guys I could walk all over when I was about eight. He’s miscalculated a few times, though he quickly gave me someone new once he figured it out. So, I can’t boss you around — okay, I get it.” I offered my hand. “Truce?”

He shook his head. “No, Princess. No truce just yet. Let’s give it a couple of days, see where we stand then.”


Character Name: Angelica

Character Bio: Grew up the daughter of the Atlanta RTMC. Is now an adult with a Master’s in Engineering, and just moved to Chattanooga to work for TVA.

Angelica, we’re so happy to have you as our newest engineer in our TVA family. Can you tell us a little about yourself? Where did you grow up?

I’m a southerner at heart, and I’m so happy to have found my dream job in the south. I grew up in Atlanta, and while I enjoyed my time away at college, it’s nice to be back.

What made you decide to become a mechanical engineer?

When I was eight, I snuck downstairs to the garage in the middle of the night to tear my motorcycle apart, because one of the boys kept beating me around the track and I wanted to be faster. My dad helped me put it back together, and I finally came in first place. I guess I gained my love of engineering then — of figuring out how things work, and how to make them work better.

Was your dad an engineer?

No, but he can tear a bike engine down and rebuild it, and he gave me my love of engineering.

What do you enjoy doing when you aren’t working? Do you have any interesting hobbies?

I drive an antique MGB, and I enjoy doing the maintenance and upkeep on it. I run in the mornings, and I’ve fallen in love with the city. I ran over the Tennessee River this morning, on the pedestrian bridge, and was floored by the view.

I know our people heavily recruited you out of MIT, what made you choose TVA?

Are you kidding? This is my dream job. I want to make a difference, and renewable energy is kind of the holy grail these days. I mean, sure, I was offered more money by a few auto manufacturers, but I wasn’t excited about the idea of going to work for them every day. I’m excited about the things I can do here, and the opportunities I’ll have.

And finally, our male engineers will never forgive me if I don’t ask your relationship status. Are you seeing anyone?

I just moved to town! Right now, the focus needs to be on my new job. Fortunately, I have a few friends who live here, who used to live in Atlanta. A few of them are going to show me around town on the weekends, but I’m not interested in dating anyone until I get settled in better.

Thanks so much for answering my questions, and helping us get to know our newest engineer a little better! Welcome to our TVA family!


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About the author

Candace Blevins is a southern girl who loves to travel the world. She lives with her husband of 17 years and their two daughters. When not working or driving kids all over the place she can be found reading, writing, meditating, or swimming.

Candace writes BDSM Romance, Urban Fantasy, Paranormal Romance, and is currently writing a kick-ass Motorcycle Club series.

Her Safeword Series gives us characters who happen to have some extreme kinks. Relationships can be difficult enough without throwing power exchange into the mix, and her books show characters who care enough about each other to fight to make the relationship work. Each book in the Safeword series highlights a couple with a different BDSM issue to resolve.

Her urban fantasy series, Only Human, gives us a world where weredragons, werewolves, werelions, three different species of vampires, as well as a variety of other mythological beings exist.

Candace's two paranormal romance series, The Chattanooga Supernaturals and The Rolling Thunder Motorcycle Club, are both sister series to the Only Human series, and give some secondary characters their happily ever after.

You can visit Candace on the web at and feel free to friend her on Facebook at and Goodreads at

You can also join to get sneak peeks into what she's writing now, images that inspire her, and the occasional juicy blurb.

Stay up to date on Candace’s newest releases, and get exclusive excerpts by joining her mailing list!

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Book Blast: With Every Breath by Niecey Roy

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Title: With Every Breath        with every gif
Series: River Bend
Vol or Book #:  1
Author: Niecey Roy                              
Audience: Adult 18+
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Format:  e-Book
Publisher:  River Mist Media
Cover by:  RBA Designs
Pages:  Appox. 200 pgs
Date Published:  October 28, 2015


Jaden Miller had one plan when she left her hometown, and it was simple—never return. She has her dream job, her freedom, and miles separating her from a past she needed to outrun. Only one thing could make her return to River Bend, and that’s her best friend on the verge of a breakdown.
From the moment Cole Brooks realized he married the wrong woman, he’d done his best to not let fantasies of the one who got away haunt him. Now that his marriage is over, and Jaden’s back in town, is the universe giving him a second chance?
Jaden isn’t about to let her guard down around the man who broke her heart, but Cole won’t give up until she admits how perfect they would be together.
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about the author
Once upon a time, there was a young girl who wrote sappy poetry about every relationship gone wrong. She had her heart broken many times before the man of her dreams stepped off a big Navy ship and swept her off her feet, promising to never hold her shoe obsession against her.
From that day forward, she swore she’d never again write sappy poetry of unrequited love. Instead, a sucker for smooches and happily-ever-afters, Niecey Roy now writes contemporary romance inspired by her sailor’s sexy brown eyes and charming sense of humor.
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