About Lola White

Delve into the emotions, dive into the erotic. An extensive traveler who loves to incorporate various legends from around the world into her tales, best-selling author Lola White likes to twist reality at its edges in her stories. She likes delving into the emotions of her characters, finding their strengths and weaknesses, and seeing (and showing) how they get themselves out of whatever trouble has found them—if they can.

Women

I’m going to keep going for another week on the female angle. Mostly because the pond is still rippling with more and more allegations, more women speaking up, more women supporting other women and more men coming to a realization of what women might be putting up with on a daily basis.

First, let me just say that a line has been drawn. It’s about damned time, too. Women are tired and have been tired and sometime in the past year or so, we’ve had all our powerlessness thrown back into our faces, salt rubbed into the wound a few times too many… And we’re beginning to remember that the world turns on us. We are the glue, we are the backbone and we are the future of every generation that’s ever lived.

Sorry if that hurt your feelings, guys, but it’s the way nature intended the world to work, and ancient men decided they weren’t confident enough in the roles they’d been assigned to allow others to lead. (Take a look around and tell me how the last few millennia have worked out for everyone.)

Men are starting to realize that all women have faced harassment solely because they are women many, many times in their lives. You’ve done it too—and the things you’ve said to a woman will have been said to your mother, aunts, wife, and will be said to your daughters and granddaughters. And they were all told to shut up and take it. Don’t make waves, men will be men, boys will just run their mouths…Women have to be strong, you know.

Strong without taking credit. Strong enough to lend face to their menfolk so their delicate feelings don’t get hurt.

Really?

I’m writing an angry rant today because I’ve seen so many bullshit comments over the past few weeks, primarily written by men but also some of the hordes of brainwashed women, too. I’ve seen things about feminazis, liars who waited to come forward…and I’ve read comments about bringing up all the stuff the Clintons and the Kennedys had been accused of.

Well they’re dead, so let’s take them out of the political equation, ‘mm-kay? Also, blah, blah, Bill Clinton. Yup, he should be held to the same standards too. But why not back then? Because American women hadn’t had to wake up to the blatantly offensive things we wake up to today, and a different generation had still believed that keeping quiet was the best tactic for survival.

And maybe it was, but it’s not working anymore. Honestly, it never has worked, it was only a temporary fix, because we might be surviving today, but we’re not letting our daughters or our sons live in their future. We’re evolving, right now, very visibly. The upcoming generations will be so much different than anything we’ve seen in current history, and maybe that’s not a bad thing.

Sleazebags come in all shapes, sizes, colors and political affiliations. Some of these accusations hurt—I get it. It’s disappointing that human beings are not all good or all evil, that they don’t make it so convenient for the rest of us to judge. Pain is on both sides of the aisle now. But we’ve got to face it, we’ve got to uncover the festering wound because that’s the only way we can clean and heal it.

This is an issue of respect. Ask a man how he’d feel if another man went down the street catcalling him, groping him, pressuring him for sexual favors, threatening his career just because he didn’t give out blowjobs any time he was ordered to. How would he feel knowing that there might possibly be someone waiting for him in the dark, near his parked car or somewhere in his house, in any shadowed place, really, and that he wouldn’t just get beaten and robbed by someone stronger, but held down and raped, possibly by multiple men, just because they could do so.

Oh, and when they got raped, maybe they got pregnant too. No matter what health issues are at stake, no matter how old they might be…No matter that they may or may not even have access to adequate medical care for themselves, let alone a baby.

And men are surprised by our reactions. They’ve made jokes forever about how women on blind dates are scared they’ve been matched up with some serial killer. Well, yeah, because the guy in question might be a serial killer! Bad things happen to females who are alone. It’s partly why we pee together.

But we’re at a turning point. Turning points hurt, I know. But every day is a chance to start fresh, atone for the sins of the past, deal with the repercussions that you know you’ve probably earned and move forward with a new perspective and a new dedication to respecting others.

Respect. Seriously.

To finish this angry little rant about the rights of women and the responsibilities of men as human beings who occupy space alongside women, I’d like to share some observations I made while I lived in Africa. (Because women in America are standing up demanding respect, and because many places in Africa are undergoing its own changes concerning respect, too.)

The women (I knew) there are truly amazing.

Pare down all the first and second world bullshit, and you’ll see what women had always been meant to be and do. They lead, they laugh and they love. Unfortunately, most are still under the very oppressive thumb of patriarchy in some manner or another, but these women are the epitome of strength, grace and generosity. Without them, I wouldn’t have done half as well over there as I did.

They break their backs every day. They care for their families and take care of their families, and still have time to care for you, too. They point out what’s wrong with their corner of society, they hold their neighbors to standards of decency that anyone would agree with while simultaneously encouraging a bit of freedom in thought, word and deed. They love their children and their husbands fiercely, they forgive easily, but they also stand as guardians of progress and what’s right versus what’s wrong.

They’re not perfect, their cultures can be very different from anything you’ve ever known, but their humanity is rock-solid, and the same as nearly all other woman worldwide, regardless of ethnicity, nationality or education level. There are simply some morals that are universal.

Women are the keepers of those morals and societal standards, but we forgot that and once we forgot, we had a hard time passing it on to our children. Now we’re living in a time when respect is a rare commodity, internet trolls draw blood on the daily and leading political figures figuratively spit on common folk for no good reason other than greed and egotism.

That’s our line in the sand. There’s a lot of you on the opposite side of that line too, so y’all better hold on to your hats because the erosion of the shit that’s piled up over previous, silent generations has already started.

Sierra Cartwright – Double Trouble

One love. One obsession. Double the trouble.

This time, he won’t take no for an answer.

For three years, Daniel Armstrong has wanted the beautiful, fiery Bridget Kelly. But when he sees her at Houston’s premier BDSM club and realizes she has an interest in submission, his determination reignites. A charity auction provides a means for him to possess her and do good at the same time. Who could resist? Focused solely on Bridget and the decadent delights he intends for her, he outbids everyone to claim her.

Helpless, trapped by the glare of a spotlight at an auction she never agreed to participate in, Bridget is stunned when bidding for a weekend with her goes higher and higher.

She’s frantic when she realizes the gorgeous, successful Daniel Armstrong has won her. For years, she’s been attracted to the renowned heartbreaker, but she’s kept him at a distance to protect herself.

Then one night, she sees him at a BDSM club, and there’s no doubt he recognizes her submissive tendencies. Now that the devastating Dom knows her naughty desires, she’s doubly determined to avoid him.

When he claims her, she believes things can’t get worse. Then he introduces her to his identical twin, Jacob. Suddenly, she’s faced with not one, but two men determined to make her every fantasy come true and take her to the heights of submission.

Series Note: Although linked by a common theme, the stories in this series may be read in any order Revenge can be sexy and sweet. Dom Daniel Armstrong has waited twenty years for the chance to possess the beautiful and fiery I Heart TC waitress Bridget Kelley. She broke his heart and crushed his ego, twice, and he’s never gotten over her. This time, he won’t take no for an answer. Seeing her in an oh-so short skirt at a BDSM club has reignited his determination, and a charity auction provides a means for him to possess her and do good at the same time. Who could resist? When she realizes the always-persistent Daniel has won her, Bridget is frantic. She desperately tries to back out of the deal to spend an entire weekend at his family’s secluded James River plantation. This is a man she’s scorned, and worse, a Dom who knows her naughty desires. She’s seen him control a woman before, and the idea of submitting to him both thrills and frightens her. And just when she thinks things can’t get worse, he introduces her to his twin, David. Suddenly, she’s faced with not one, but two, determined Doms…

Publisher’s Note: This book contains explicit sexual content, graphic language, and situations that some readers may find objectionable: anal play/intercourse, BDSM theme and content, menage (m/f/m), spanking.

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USA Today Best-Selling Author, Winner of the 2015 Best BDSM Book of the year (Bind), 2015 Reader’s Choice Best Erotic Romance (Bind), 2015 Golden Flogger (Crave), 2014 LASR Book of the Year award (In The Den), 2013 Best BDSM Book of the Year award (Over The Line), Golden Flogger Award 2015 nominee for her books Command, Bind, and Brand, Sierra was born in Manchester, England where she spent her early years traipsing through castles. After living in Denver for a number of years, the internationally acclaimed author now resides in Galveston, Texas. She loves the way history blends with Southern manners (being called “sugar” is an experience unto itself).

She invites you to join her on a sensual journey where the limits are explored and expanded.

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Do you believe in magic?

Today, I’m getting my kitchen witch on.

Okay, over the past week, I’ve been getting my kitchen witch on. I believe in magic, but, as much as I’d love to believe in magic wands, flying broomsticks and that scene in Practical Magic where Sandra Bullock blows on the candle to light it, that’s not what I think it’s all about.

Ironically, I believe in practical magic, just not the movie. Like a few weeks ago when I was searching for a non-specific ring, and something told me to look in my grandmother’s junk drawer…keep digging…farther. I had no idea what was in there or what I was even looking for, but not only did I pull out a fox pin (see my post on how I keep finding foxes everywhere) but also exactly what I needed for the project I was working on.

Practical, right? (BTW, now I can’t stop finding rings. They’re everywhere—in my sink (!!) on the street, on the floor, in boxes…And I’ve never seen any of them before.)

So I’m currently quite taken with the idea of a kitchen witch. My (Welsh-descendant side) family has a long and vivid oral history of who saw ghosts, who knew what in an uncanny manner, who had dreams… We were once witches most likely, and to this day carry a heavy emphasis on the female, the matriarch. Things happen with my family members, strange occurrences are the norm for us and certain concepts don’t really faze me.

This past year, as many of you know, I got really sick. It required me to change my entire diet in order to have a functioning system again. So I’ve gotten into nutrition. Also, years ago, I lived in Africa and I was very into nutrition then (forced to be, really) and started learning a lot about natural medicines (again, forced to by circumstances) and was privileged enough to have seen some extremely intelligent, compassionate and even magical women working in their roles as traditional healers.

 

In case you doubt my emphasis on the strength of women, and the ancient roles of women that I believe should be and are being reinstated in the present era, see my post about the feminine divine.

 

 

Anyway, this past year, I’ve gotten back into nutrition in a big way. My grandmother was always the one with the green thumb, but I’m about to try my hand with some kitchen herbs, and considering the fact that I don’t particularly care about growing things, this is especially surprising. But the need is there. To have some greenery around me, to have the aromatic scent of fresh herbs, to know that I’m growing something that is beneficial to the things I’m cooking and therefore my family’s health, is really making me happy.

Also, my cat’s been poisoning himself with a new houseplant, so I’ve got to replace it with a better, healthier distraction for him.

I’ve been cooking alot. For months now, I’ve cooked nearly every day. I’ve focused on fresh vegetables, and have nearly done away with meat. Not because I’m a vegetarian and not because I have some moral objection to it, but my body doesn’t do well with meat anymore. It makes me literally sick, to the point where my system starts shutting down again until it’s fully digested, which takes weeks, with the way my system is sluggish, especially after consuming meat. A cycle of horrors (and pain, illness, etc.)

Because of my health, I’m getting organized. I’ve rearranged rooms, furniture, logistical systems. I’m moving things around in my kitchen to institute some sort of organization and I’ve created a pantry out of things I already had in my house. I both hate it, and love it. Maybe one day I can do a real renovation, but that would require a lot more people buying my books!

Speaking of… I’ve been meaning to get a recipe book, then I realized I have an old day planner that I fell in love with years ago. It’s a binder, so the pages are easily removed or added, yet it’s leather-bound with a closure and plenty of slots for (business cards) little things I want to keep. Since I’m not using it as a planner anymore, I thought about doing a recipe book in this, scrapbook style, with cutesy things, pictures, quotes…

So of course I looked that up. And saw the kitchen witch thing. And it feels right. It fits.

It seems that’s what I am becoming, or maybe that’s what I always was. I’m a caretaker, always have been. Maybe the magic that runs through my family finally found its natural place inside me. Not that I didn’t have any (I could tell some stories!) but maybe it’s more fully realized in this endeavor than it has been in any other. I’m continually drawn toward caring for people (addicts, the sick, the elderly and children to date) and healing in some way (in Africa I served a role in community health and have worked in hospital settings and clinics in the US). I love the idea that nature has provided us a foundation, even though I fully believe there are things science does much better.

But taking care of my family, infusing health and love into all the things I’m doing around my home and growing ever more excited by the way one project leads toward another is surprising, and inspiring. It’s so much work, but I’m excited to do it.

I’m not Wiccan. I always say ‘Wiccan-ish’ knowing that I believed in and felt something, but also knowing it wasn’t what other people believed and knew. I was raised in the Lutheran church, anyway, and yet feel there is truth in every religion. That makes me an Omnist, I think.

So I’m embracing this kitchen witch concept whole-heartedly, because it’s not about religion. It’s not about what you believe or the dogma you adhere to. Anyone can do this, all that’s required is faith. Faith in yourself and your ability to provide a good meal and a happy home for your family, the love you have for them, the need to take care of others that you pour into every dish and enforce every time you mop.

This is magic at its most practical, and at its most profound. It’s the magic of love.

Shayla Black – A Very Wicked Christmas

‘Tis the season… Sometimes the holidays are so busy—work, kids, shopping, baking, partying, wrapping, decorating, planning, and Christmas music!—that you don’t have time for the one you love most. Can the spirit of the season bring the first two Wicked Lovers closer forever?

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Shayla Black is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of more than fifty novels. For nearly twenty years, she’s written contemporary, erotic, paranormal, and historical romances via traditional, independent, foreign, and audio publishers. Her books have sold millions of copies and been published in a dozen languages.

Raised an only child, Shayla occupied herself with lots of daydreaming, much to the chagrin of her teachers. In college, she found her love for reading and realized that she could have a career publishing the stories spinning in her imagination. Though she graduated with a degree in Marketing/Advertising and embarked on a stint in corporate America to pay the bills, her heart has always been with her characters. She’s thrilled that she’s been living her dream as a full-time author for the past eight years.

Shayla currently lives in North Texas with her wonderfully supportive husband, her teenage daughter, and two spoiled tabbies. In her “free” time, she enjoys reality TV, reading, and listening to an eclectic blend of music.

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Ignoring My Inner Perfectionist

So, yes, I’m participating (unofficially) in NaNoWriMo. I can’t say it’s fun, but it’s getting words on the page. Every morning, I wake up (early) and spend my first hour of the day writing. It’s still dark and I’m tired. I’ve also been ignoring the fact that what I’m writing might be crap. It might be repetitive and it hasn’t begun to touch on the depths I want my character to discover.

But, on this 6th day of NaNoWriMo, I have nearly 12,000 words written. And that is better than none, which is what I had on October 31.

I’ve been thinking about this story for a while. As most stories do, it has undergone massive transformations in what I want, what I would say and what I would tell. I decided to go back to my original concept, only because that’s the one that had gotten me excited. I did change some things, finding inspiration in Dante’s Purgatorio and waffling on genders until I settled on the M/M concept I’d started with, but lacking any erotic content. I can change everything again later, if need be.

I decided to incorporate a vague concept(s) brought to us by Dante Alighieri in his famously enduring trilogy the Divine Comedy—Inferno, Purgatorio and Paradiso. Dante was an Italian poet who lived in the Middle Ages. He wrote the Divine Comedy seemingly as a socio-political commentary, much like I do occasionally with My Bone To Pick. He pointed out the bad things going on, some of the good things, and expressed both guilt and regret over the things he’d done, too. His friends and his enemies were both called to the carpet, and his home city of Florence went so far as to exile him. They regretted that later, and even created a false tomb for him after death though his body was interred in Ravenna.

His Comedia is still regarded as one the greatest pieces of literature.

I’d only read Inferno, so I find myself searching the internet nearly every day for Purgatorio references. In Purgatory the sins his MC encounters on his travels has a difference in the severity of the same deadly sins in hell. Hell is primarily reserved for sins that were intentionally harmful, while purgatory seems more neglectful. I’m trying to incorporate that distinction in a general sense.

My MC, Christian, killed himself, which should put him straight to hell according to Dante and his medieval beliefs (some of which persist today). Suicide is a mortal sin, no coming back… Except Christian learns from his guide, Cato (yes! The same name as the guide in Purgatorio, but a totally different take) that spirits called Siphons had attacked him until he couldn’t fight back emotionally. They drained him of all energy and positivity and left nothing but negativity until there was literally no light left in his world. True energy vampires (having just set one of the human variety free from my life, this concept is highly motivating to me).

Christian is getting a second chance after death to prove that, given a different set of circumstances, he would choose a different way. Hopefully.

This is non-erotic, but there is a romance. In just a few more days, I’ll bring Christian to meet Beattie, a poor, beleaguered young man just over the age of majority, so it’s not too weird. Christian is twenty-two.

Beattie’s father is the CEO of a private hospital specifically dealing with mental health issues. Beattie is gay, which his father isn’t too happy about, and also sees spirits, which is the ultimate reason he’s locked up. His brother and sister are fighting their father in court to get their brother reinstated as a fully competent adult, but, in the meantime, he’s in the hospital getting attacked by the same type of spirits Christian was attacked by.

Now, Cato the guide has been having a hard time getting Christian to feel any emotion after being so damaged by the energy vampires, let alone getting him to feel empathy for others. But something about Beattie captures Christian’s attention, and he discovers they have so much in common. He starts to care, then he falls in love…

And Beattie with him.

Of course, they’re doomed for what might amount to be a tragic ending in the world of Romance, but they will each get a different type of happy ending. This story is about learning to love others just as much as you learn to love yourself. It’s acknowledging that not every love you receive in your lifetime is meant to carry on until the end of days, but that doesn’t make it any less important.

I’m excited, no matter that I sometimes want to take a day off (God, and that’s only a week in) or that I want to go back over and pick this story apart with a fine-toothed comb. I want to edit my mistakes, but I’m resisting. I’m letting this thing go, letting it grow wild like a vine, I haven’t even plotted the damned thing except a synopsis so I know what should be happening, but not when. When I’m finished, on December 1, I’ll start looking it over and see what I’ve got.

Until then, I’m going to bury my control-freak perfectionist in a closet somewhere and write for the love of writing.

You can find daily excerpt s of this story on my Facebook page.

Magic of Books Birthday Bash!

Magic of Books Promotions hosted its first tour during the month of November three years ago.

The company was created from the passion and desire of its owner, Tami Adams, because of her experiences as an author. From her struggles to have her books viewed and appreciated she knew there had to be another way.

Three years later Tami no longer writes but is determined to show the world the magic that lies within the pages of all books.

The following authors are helping Magic of Books to celebrate its birthday. Enjoy.

Message from Tami:

The last three years have been an incredible journey. I’ve made so many friends who began as bloggers, readers, and authors. I have been privileged to present and showcase new and old books from seasoned and new authors. I’ve learned so much I didn’t even realize I should know prior to getting into this business. And after three years I can honestly say I’m still learning, I’m still growing, and I’m still making friends. I love and appreciate all of you who have supported my little slice of heaven. From the bottom of my heart, thank you.

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HISTORICAL

Historical in traditional literary terms is when the plot takes place in a setting located in the past. Historical fiction can be an umbrella term; though commonly used as a synonym for describing the historical novel; the term can be applied to works in other narrative formats, such as those in the performing and visual arts like theatre, opera, cinema and television, as well as video games and graphic novels.

Please enjoy these books that focus on historical and all the sub-genres. The list is available in alphabetically order by title.Don’t forget to enter the Rafflecopter.

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15 W. Gibson by Aubree Lane

Historical Romance

1954 – Stockton, California

Knowing Uncle Sam is about to come knocking, twenty-one year old Jimmy Franks saves the government the cost of a stamp and preemptively enlists in the Navy. He loads up on stationery and pens, and with a heavy heart, kisses his lovely bride goodbye. Leaving his precious Suzy is the hardest thing he’s ever had to do.

Pregnant and left alone to deal with their feuding families, Suzy Franks is heartbroken when Jimmy ships out for the Mariana Islands. Knowing Guam is considered safe and that she will eventually be able to join him offers her little solace. Suzy’s mettle is put to the test. Her husband’s letters of love brings comfort, but 15 W. Gibson is a lonely place without him.

Magic in Her Eyes by Donna Dalton

Historical Romance

Meredith Talbot has a secret. In fact, she has nine secrets – her own and those of the eight orphans at Seaton House, a home for children. Each of them has a special talent that if exposed would get them labeled as witches. It is her responsibility to protect the children and their secrets and keep them safe from persecution. Marauding Indians force them into a nearby fort where their safety is threatened by fanatical townspeople and a captivating army officer who try to unmask the children’s extraordinary abilities.

Lieutenant Preston Booth has one goal – to serve and protect his country. The military is the only life he has ever known. It’s the only life he wants. When a child is abducted and Preston goes after the culprit, Meredith has a vision of what will happen to him.

Does she risk everything by exposing her gift? Or keep her secret and risk losing him forever?

An Heiress by Midnight by Clair Brett

Regency Historical

Lady Louissa Adair was raised by her uncle to be anything but a lady, spending hours scrubbing the decks of his ill begotten ships. Now, he has tasked her with a more deadly task. If she refuses, any hope of finding her long-lost and possibly dead brother will be lost while her uncle moves up his timeline to marry her off to a most dastardly man. While doing her uncle’s bidding, a blasted Englishman running around Scotland sets upon being her champion – not that Louissa has ever needed one. If he doesn’t get them both killed, and she might just kill the fool herself, she faces an even bigger danger – losing her heart.

Lord Clive Colcord, Earl of Breakerton, had escaped to Scotland in an attempt to avoid scrutiny by his late father’s solicitors. It had been a quiet, if not boring rustication until he finds himself tasked by the local magistrate with apprehending the highwayman menacing the North Road. He doesn’t expect to discover a beguiling dark-haired beauty with more dangerous men in her life than Clive has sisters. Yet he finds himself offering aid in an attempt to protect this damsel in distress. He must help Louissa find the proof of her uncle’s crimes and find her brother before she is forced into marriage all the while not losing his own heart in the process.

Dealing with the Viscount by Clair Brett

Regency Historical

After making a wager of marriage to settle her father’s gambling debts, Ella Bowen-Thorn Renwick escaped the husband she foolishly began to fall for and disappeared into the Scottish countryside carrying a secret. Four years later, and the owner of her own bakery, she is still not free of the demands of men when a violent and anonymous blackmailer threatens her, her livelihood…and her daughter. And then, there is him…

Viscount Renwick still mourns the wife he began to love before her untimely death–that is until he discovers her alive and well living in Scotland. Now, Devon’s face to face with the wife he thought he’d buried and the daughter he never knew existed. He’d like nothing more than to welcome Ella back into his arms, but mysterious and troubling incidents and a history with an unloving father have Ella trusting no one.

But, if Renwick convinces his wife he’s the husband she always dreamed of and the father their daughter deserves, will the scandalous secret the blackmailer is holding threaten their future together once more?

On Wings of Time by Linda Boulanger

Historical Romance with Time Travel elements

Just because they weren’t looking for love doesn’t mean it won’t find them, even if time itself has to bend to bring them together.

One man with a dragon’s soul.

A self-proclaimed bachelor for life, modern-day Luke Tavish has no idea he’s more than a mere man. One thing’s for certain, though… he’s not looking for love. He doesn’t want a relationship, but he needs the fair maiden from the past… in more ways than he knows.

One woman with the key to unlock his powers.

Amileigh McCollum isn’t your typical Medieval Lady. She’s always known there’s something special about her. She just isn’t sure what. The day she rides beyond her father’s gates alongside a man who isn’t her husband, she’ll learn that destiny is about to find her.

Six hundred years separating them.

Forward to go back, time spirals out of control in an attempt to bring together a couple that is six hundred years apart. When Luke finds himself back in Ami’s world, he has to come to terms with his newfound identity and prepare for a battle he didn’t know he would have to fight, all while falling head-over-heels in love.

When the future calls him back, will he ask her to go? Would she say yes if he did?

Watch out, because Fate’s carefully woven web is about to be tested by human will, a kiss, and the flip of a coin.

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Adriana Kraft – April Swings

April Swings, Erotic Menage Romance by Adriana Kraft

Meghan’s Playhouse, Book 3

April Day deeply loves her husband, Derek, but something’s missing. To heat things up, she books them on a Caribbean cruise for their seventh anniversary. She’s not sure what she’s looking for, but she knows she’s found it as soon as she spots the delectable sprite of an actress who stars in the ship’s daily shows.

Meghan Keenan’s having a blast with her latest squeeze, Clark Hendricks, who writes and directs the shipboard main shows. Should she turn down April’s request to heat up her marriage? And if she accepts, where will Clark fit in?

Derek is stunned by his wife’s brash pursuit of the hot young actress. Must he match her boldness to keep her from leaving him?

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~~Excerpt~~

“Crap, you haven’t pounded me like this for years,” April panted.

Derek felt her fingers clawing at his back. She hadn’t been a wildcat like this for years, either. He lifted her butt off the bed and continued plowing in and out of her. Her heels pounded his backside.

“I’m coming!” she keened. “Come with me. Do it.”

Her verbal barrage rattled his brain, and then his cock exploded. He worked his wife’s hips back and forth along his length, spurting and filling her like she’d demanded. Breathing heavily, he flexed his arms and settled April on the bed, then leaned over and kissed her forehead. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?” Her giggles confused his muddled thoughts.

“Good grief.” Grinning broadly, she lolled her head from side to side. “Does this look like a woman in pain?”

He shook his head. “Not really. But let’s roll over so I don’t have to worry about crushing you.” He rolled them easily until April beamed down at him.

She licked perspiration from his chin. “So watching me ride Meg’s fingers must’ve been a turn-on after all.”

He gave her a crooked smile. “That, and imagining her howling into the night.” He ran a finger along her nose. “You didn’t do badly in that department, yourself.”

“I hadn’t realized how silent I’d become over the years until Meg quizzed you about me. I could hardly keep my mouth closed in the lounge.”

“I noticed.”

“So are you ready for Meg to get more involved with us?”

He scowled. “Do we have to? Wasn’t this good enough?”

April shook her head. “Who knows what good enough is? Do you really want to turn your back on Meg? Do you really want me to turn my back on her? We may never have this kind of opportunity again. We’re free to try whatever we want here.” She kissed his mouth and dragged her tongue across his lips. “Don’t you at least want to try? For us. Or at least, for me.”

 

Behind the Scenes at Meghan’s Playhouse

 

What’s your favorite erotic fantasy? Does it include ménage – maybe a man sandwich, or making love with a woman and a man at the same time? Have you ever kissed a girl?

We started writing our Meghan’s Playhouse series to deliver some of our favorite fantasies for our readers. When we began book 1, we simply planned to write an erotic romp. We knew we wanted a young “sprite,” a bisexual woman full of energy and inventiveness, as the star in our story. We thought of her as a modern-day Aphrodite, bringing other couples together through sharing sex with both partners.

In the beginning, we didn’t give too much thought to her motivation, or to that of the other major players. Characters have a way of taking over, though, and Meg wasn’t satisfied with just being a piece of fluff having hot sex scenes. Each book in the series is its own love story, stirring up emotions even Meg wasn’t prepared for.

The original five-book series was first released in 2009 by a different e-publisher. It’s been unavailable for over four years, and we’re thrilled Extasy Books has contracted to re-release it, completely revised and re-edited. In the meantime, Meg insisted we write one more adventure. The six books are releasing approximately every ten weeks.

Seducing Cat, May, 2017

A Woman for Zachary, August, 2017

April Swings, October, 2017

A Ring for Christmas, December 7, 2017

Vegas Gambler, February 23, 2018

Meg’s Folly, May 4, 2018

About the Author

Winner of the 2014 Bisexual Book Award for erotic fiction, author Adriana Kraft is a husband wife team writing Sizzling Romantic Suspense and Erotic Romance for Two, Three, or More.

Readers can count on our Romantic Suspense line for gutsy characters, hot sex, and breathtaking intimacy as our hero and heroine battle outer threats and inner demons to stay alive and fall in love.

We write our Erotic Romance stories to entertain, of course, but most of all we write them because we believe in happy endings for all who fall in love, whatever their gender, sexual orientation or numerical combination. Here you’ll find multiple partners, three-way, four-way and more, swing lifestyle, lesbian, bisexual, ménage and polyamory, in both contemporary and paranormal settings.

Together we have published more than forty romance novels and novellas to outstanding reviews. We love hearing from readers at adrianakraft99@yahoo.com.

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Giveaway

Two winners will win their choice of Book 1 or Book 2 in the Meghan’s Playhouse Series:

Book 1 Seducing Cat

What could college English Professor Caitlin Shanahan ever have in common with the brash carpenter Kurt Davis?  The sexy sprite Meghan Keenan, that’s what. 

Book 2 A Woman for Zachary

It’s New York! Broadway beckons, but Meg has more fun keeping an erotic triangle going with her current flame, Zach Cullen, and her drama coach, Josie Patrice.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Release blitz organized by Writer Marketing Services

NaNoWriMo for the first time

Every year I see a thousand posts about NaNoWriMo. National Novel Writing Month. Established authors and aspiring writers both seem excited about it and flood social media with word counts and updates.

I always thought, why bother? That’s how long it takes me to write a rough draft anyway. Why should I get involved in this activity and put added pressure on myself to hit a goal, especially when I’ve usually just finished writing a novel. November is for editing—with good reason considering that’s when my holiday rush starts. Time seems to move faster and there’s never enough of it.

I’ve only written new material once in November. (Once, ever.) Book 2 of my Magic Matched series, and then, before the month was out, I’d also written two-thirds of Book 3. The muse was upon me.

I’m calling her back this month. I’m begging my muse for a moment of her time. Or, barring that, I’m begging my motivation to come off its hiatus.

I’ve had a hard year—really starting last fall, so not just this calendar year. Everything has slowed down, everything has been stressful. Personal issues have overtaken my schedule, there’s no time to write and, when there is, I have little motivation to do so. I’ve been exhausted, running from one catastrophe to the next.

I’ve been working on the same rough draft for four months now. I’ve put aside one book completely and haven’t released anything new since the last of The Double O Saga, which I wrote last year (a struggle, as my year of hardship had just begun). I don’t feel like releasing new stories, I don’t feel like marketing, I don’t feel like participating.

I am working on a book though (see above) but I’m only halfway through. I need roughly 40,000 words to make it a full-length novel. But finishing a work in progress is not the point of NaNoWriMo, is it? You’ve got to start fresh, with a new story and not a single word written before November 1, correct? This counts out a lot of projects I’ve started where I’ve got a few chapters, or whatever.

I have to finish the one book. But I’ve got to shake things up too, maybe remember why I started writing in the first place. So I’ll be starting a second book. That one needs 50,000 to complete NaNoWriMo. That brings me up to 90,000 words? Different stories, different techniques, different motivations…same goal: Finish.

Holy Hell.

My plan is to buckle down and finish the first, but also taking my time with that story the way I usually do with all my stories. Some days, I really can’t write. Life happens. Plus, I’m a writer who needs a little bit of self-editing along the way. I can’t progress if something feels out of place or fits poorly.

So I’m also going to wake up earlier every single morning, write a chapter of my new one without stopping, without looking back and without caring what I just wrote. No matter what, every single day. I’ll outline every chapter, decide what needs to be done in each beforehand, then simply write it. No looking back. I’ll fix it later.

And that’s the point, right? Just write. Nora Roberts said

‘I can fix a bad page. I can’t fix a blank page.’

Something has to shake loose around here. I started writing because I love it, because there were stories in my head clawing to get out, but somewhere along the way it got so commercial. I chose to write erotica because it was the most challenging genre I tried (seriously, you write about sex without sounding ridiculous then get back to me with your condemnation, mmkay?) But this NaNoWriMo, I’ll be writing something totally different. Might end up being YA but probably NA.

It’s something I’ve been tossing around for a very long time, a romance where the two lovers truly can’t be together. They can’t be together physically, they can’t even touch physically, but the emotions are there…and maybe that’s the thing that saves them both.

It’ll be challenging. I’m used to creating physical interludes between my characters to express a range of emotions, but what if it all just boils down to tension? I have to find a new way to show the emotional connection, longing and understanding. What if it’s learning how to love another that teaches you how to love yourself? And that opens the future’s possibilities…for them both. I mean, just because you love someone, doesn’t mean that’s who you belong with forever, right? This ain’t your typical romance.

For the first time all year, I’m really excited. Even if I fail, I can’t wait until November 1, when I’ll wake up too early to be rational, only half-functional, and write just for me. Even if no one ever sees it, even it’s awful, I’ll be putting words on the page, creating something. Something new, something I haven’t done before.

That’s the point. Just write. Create.

Happy NaNoWriMo, everyone. Good luck to the participants, and you’ll find my word counts and maybe some excerpts on my Facebook page and my website if you feel like stopping by to check it out. Leave your own word counts and excerpts in the comments, if you want. We’ll help each other through it!

I want to sparkle, dammit.

Once upon a time, I knew who I was, but then, seemingly suddenly though I know it was a gradual slide, I lost myself.

Most of us spend our teenage years and well into our twenties (or thirties) trying to figure out who we are. Some of us need more time, some of us need less time, but what I think none of us realize is…we need all the time. We need our whole lives.

By the time I’d reached my twenty-fifth year, I had a decent handle on my likes and dislikes, what I was courageous enough to attempt, how to trust my intuition and just how firm my moral foundation was. I knew the type of person I wanted to be and actively worked to become that person, with a few hiccups here and there because I’m human.

But things changed. Once I learned who I was, life conspired to test me or maybe evolve me, whichever. Without realizing, I slipped into roles defined by other people’s expectations. Maybe you can relate. Parent, child, sibling, spouse, teacher, counselor, healer, lover, protector…or take your pick from a thousand others. We are all something to someone else, but that singular title doesn’t begin to cover what we really are.

I started letting what they thought define me which, in turn, started wearing down my own sense of self. The more bits I lost of myself, the more depressed I got. I didn’t even know it, either, until one day I started crying and couldn’t stop. I only faced the sunlight when I had no choice. I was physically ill, tired… I don’t know if I had or have clinical depression because I refuse to see someone about it, in spite of my doctor’s referral and recommendation. (I’m stubborn and delusional and don’t want to hear their definition of me when I’m already fighting against so many others. If you think it would help you, however, I actively encourage you to seek help.)

I started writing, in fact, because I was pigeonholed into a box that didn’t fit, complete with expectations I didn’t want to live up to by people I didn’t want to let down.

I let others tell me who I was supposed to be and what I was supposed to do. And, because I didn’t want to seem too ‘special’ I stopped dreaming, or at least I stopped working toward my dreams, and then I got depressed because I wasn’t any closer to achieving my dreams. A terrible cycle.

Writing helped me combat the pull of others’ expectations. When I first started sliding, publishing a story was my act of courage, putting sentences together into a working plot was my rebellious act of giving voice to my inner self—not my fantasies, memories or wishes and not my feelings on people I know or even myself, really, but a certain piece of my soul that would not be silenced. Every time a publisher said ‘yes’ was both validation and liberation.

I haven’t always written well, but until two or three years ago, I wrote fearlessly. I’ll always have my inner editor yammering in my brain when I think about what has come before, but hidden inside those stories is my courage, my pain, my knowledge and my fear. But, here I am, a decade after I began sliding into other people’s boxes, and I’m still writing, still clinging to the art that lent me sanity.

I can see the difference. I can see how I’ve gone from writing ‘true’ to writing ‘soft.’ Not in all things, but enough. Whatever will people think if I… But, wait, that already happens. I wrote Levi fearlessly, and there is still criticism. I wrote My Voyeur, then changed it to be easier but that gets criticism too.

I’ve had a terrible few years. It could have been worse, yes, but there has been upheaval and change in ways that were brutal to live through.

—I say that because, looking back, I think it wasn’t too bad and though I remember my tears vividly, I remember my fear and anxiety, my physical unhealthiness, my fight through depression, I also hear someone who was close to me tell me I had nothing to be sad about. Looking back, however, thinking it wasn’t too bad, is me letting her put me into a box that doesn’t fit. It’s me slipping back into a role defined for me rather than by me. A clear and important distinction. I hit a breaking point, a true moment where I knew things had to change and so I did. I lost friendships, hell, I lost my mind—

But I found me again.

Guess what? I’m not the same as I was when I was twenty five. I’m someone else now, still with my spirit and, surprisingly, still certain of what sort of person I want to be. I’d lost some of my courage, changed parts of my public self to accommodate what others wanted me to be, and I’d forgotten the sound of my intuition’s voice…but I’m human, and I’ll consider that a hiccup that taught me a great deal about a whole lot.

I’m tired of holding back to accommodate others. I’m tired of not living true to myself or my courage, of pushing back on my dreams in fear of leaving others behind. I’m tired of dimming my light so that others don’t feel like I’m pretending to be special.

I want to sparkle, dammit.

Also, I want to write what feels right, not because I think the majority will handle a story better if I change this or that. Sorry, but oh well, if I make you uncomfortable…maybe that’s your problem to evolve through.

I’m writing this on the off-chance that someone else might need to read it. I’m writing this to prove to myself that I’m still courageous enough to face the truth, even when it hurts. And, the truth is, you need to find yourself every day. You need to define yourself every day. Even if you’re different every day, it’s up to you to tell the world who you are and who you want to be, because, otherwise, the world will tell you—and that’s soul-sucking.

Every day, embrace who you are and recognize that that can change repeatedly. Be courageous, be true. You are special, don’t let the haters tell you you’re not. You should spend your whole life defining you to yourself, don’t let others do it for you.

Anna Edwards – Fight the Lies

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The cage door closes on Emma Bryant’s freedom after she is arrested for a brutal murder that she did not commit. The tough-talking lioness knows the penalty she faces is death. Can she repel all of the lies in order to survive?

Scott Frazier is always the joker. Beneath the golden lion’s mane is hidden a secret that just might save the woman he’s known to be his future mate since the first time he saw her. The blood of kings runs through him. Will he make the ultimate sacrifice to save the one he loves?

Fighting the Lies is the sequel to The Touch of Snow; the paranormal romance that had non-readers converting to the genre. It continues the story of the Glacial Blood pack as they strive to save a member from the horrific position she finds herself in. But the story isn’t that simple, not when Nuka Lincoln is around, and an impending storm threatens the world as they know it. The Glacial Blood world is full of intrigue, suspense and kick arse fights. It also features a secret that should remain untold.

A family isn’t always blood; it’s the people in your life that accept you for what you are.

Anna Edwards is a British Author that has a love of travelling and developing plot lines for stories. She has spent that last two years learning the skills of writing after being an accountant since the age of 21. As well as Roleplaying on twitter, she can also be found writing poetry on Twitter

Her debut novel, Surrendered Control was released in November 2016 and has received fantastic feedback on the drama of story. Since then she has released four other books in ‘The Control Series’. The Touch of Snow is the first book in a seven (at the moment) paranormal romance series. Anna only recently discovered paranormal romance but instantly fell in love with it. Brayden and Selene’s story came to her in a dream.

In her writing she loves to combine her love for romantic and erotic novels with her passion for travel to give an international feel to her novels.

Death Valley is somewhere she visited in 2008 after a tragic personal event. It was part of a tour of the west coast of America that she loved a great deal. The highlight of the trip was a helicopter ride over the Grand Canyon .

Anna Edwards likes her hero’s hot and hunky with a dirty mouth. Her heroines demur but spunky and her books in a kick arse series.

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A Divine Female

I want to share a story I recently came across concerning Inanna, the ancient Sumerian goddess of both love and war, connected to Venus, known as the Queen of Heaven, celebrated and honored as a powerful deity.

Inanna went to visit her sister, who ruled the underworld. Before she went, she instructed her servant to contact the gods if she hadn’t returned by the third day because anyone who entered the underworld wouldn’t be allowed to leave. Wearing an elaborate outfit, Inanna descended.

She passed through seven gates in the underworld, all of which had been ordered closed and locked by her sister. At each gate, Inanna was forced to give up a part of her outfit until she finally stood before her sister naked and powerless. She still made her sister get off the throne so she could sit, but judgment was passed against her. Inanna was sentenced to death and hung on a hook.

Three days passed and her servant appealed to the gods. At first, they refused to help, knowing Inanna had brought about her own punishment but the god of creation and magic was troubled by the occurrence and agreed to help. He created two figures to collect Inanna’s body. Her sister was in agony, willing to trade anything to gain respite. The two take Inanna’s corpse and sprinkle the food of life onto it, resurrecting her.

Creatures are sent by the queen of the underworld to take someone in Inanna’s place. Inanna will not let them take her loyal servant and friends, because they had mourned her. However, her husband had not, entertaining other women while she was believed to be dead, and so she let them take him in her place.

Inanna’s sister-in-law pleads on behalf of her brother and is able to take his place for half the year in the underworld, thereby giving rise to the seasons.

~

This is one of the oldest recorded myths. You will notice the themes of descent into the underworld, death and resurrection. In three days, no less. Food of life…Seasons changing. I’m sure you’ll also notice how these particulars themes carry on throughout other cultures’ mythologies, first among female deities (Persephone, for example) and then to males (like Jesus.)

I don’t particularly care what you believe, I just think it’s interesting that a common myth begins with a goddess, and yet, so many have never even heard of her. A woman who lost her power, was trapped in a world with no light or life, but brought back and resurrected to retake her throne.

Would that womankind did the same.

In recent days, we have, again, been bombarded by the fact that many men still hold no respect for women. We have seen rapists and molesters in powerful positions come to light and we have seen rapists and molesters put into powerful positions against all commonsense. We are losing girls to the sex trade, taken as they walk home from school, snatched off the street and seduced on the internet. The stories go on and on, memes, hashtags and movements abound, but still it seems like so many are swimming against the current, and so many are deliberately pretending to an obtuseness that can’t possibly be genuine.

It wasn’t always like this. A long, long time ago, women were venerated, respected, loved and cared for. They were the leaders of their families and of society. Lineage and authority were traced through the mother’s line because she knew who her children were, while men had to take her word for it. She wasn’t called vile names for knowing the worth of her own body, nor was she vilified for celebrating all the things her body could do.

She held power over her own self, her own actions and her own future.

I’m a traditionalist in the sense that I think society as a whole should revert back to ancient traditions concerning power roles. Essentially, to my view, women were meant to lead because we are the caretakers and men were meant to protect, following their leaders’ directives, because they are physically stronger. Somewhere in humankind’s past, men took over the power—and don’t argue because this is well-accepted history. For the past several thousand years, men have controlled ‘civilization’ and they’ve been running it into the ground.

Because they aren’t natural caretakers. They are natural protectors, but what they’ve been protecting are resources, money, institutions that guarantee them more power. Women tend to care more about people, the elderly, the downtrodden, the children. Society.

Yes, I know that’s overly simplistic and there will always be exceptions to the rule, but it seems to me that the way people are viewing the world these days, it’s best not to complicate the message.

I think it’s time the women got another shot at leadership. I think it’s time we started looking into our own history and mythology, so much of which has never been written down because history has been preserved by men. So many truly important deities were depicted as women, in both love and war, hearth and home, travels, life and death. And justice, most especially justice. Interesting, right?

I think women should step up and show their strength, and I think that’s happening right now.

Lisabet Sarai – Singapore Fling

Singapore Fling: Asian Adventures Book 1

New Release by Lisabet Sarai

In the cleanest city in Asia, things can still get messy.

Thai entrepreneur Ploy Kaewkornwattanasakul needs to convince Singaporean tech whiz Jason Chow to license his ground-breaking innovation to her company. When she meets Jason, she realizes she wants not just the invention, but the inventor, too. The attraction is mutual. However, Jason has a shameful secret. He risks exposure if he succumbs to his desire.

  

 

 

~Excerpt~

Up close, he smelled even more delicious, clean and masculine. His mouth was firm, muscular, molding to hers as she deepened the kiss. It opened to her probing tongue; she tasted coffee and breath mints. He let her take the lead, sitting passive while she devoured him. That was okay. Ploy wasn’t the shy type.

His muscles shifted under his shirt as he turned to face her, their lips still locked. She mashed her breasts against his chest, stimulating her swollen nipples. Shameless, she climbed onto his lap, straddling his lean legs. Her straight skirt rode up, baring her thighs. The hardness prodding her sodden undergarments told her that he was aware of her after all.

“Oh, Jason!” she moaned, finally breaking the kiss. Releasing her grip on his neck, she brought her hand down to cup the promising bulk of his erection. “Looks like you’re hungry, too,” she murmured. “But I can help you with that…” She fumbled with his zipper, stretched tight by his bulging cock.

“No!” The Chinese entrepreneur jerked, as if she’d given him an electric shock. “Don’t!” The chair rolled backward, slamming into the wall as he pushed Ploy off his lap. She barely escaped tumbling to the floor.

“What?” She clutched the table to steady herself and tried to slow her breathing. “What’s wrong?”

“We can’t. Someone might come in and find us.”

“Everyone’s gone.” Indeed the outer offices were empty and dim.

“Sometimes the engineers come back to work after dinner,” he protested. His sudden panic puzzled her. His eyes were wild with something that looked like fear, but the tenting in his trousers remained prominent.

“Let’s go to your place, then,” she urged.  “Or my hotel. It’s an easy walk.”

“No, no—I’m sorry—I should never have allowed…”  He wrung his hands, looking worried and lost. What had happened to the calm, self-confident genius she’d admired all afternoon? Jason suddenly seemed a decade younger than his thirty years.

About Lisabet

Lisabet Sarai has been addicted to words all her life. She began reading when she was four. She wrote her first story at five years old and her first poem at seven. Since then, she has written plays, tutorials, scholarly articles, marketing brochures, software specifications, self-help books, press releases, a five-hundred page dissertation, and lots of erotica and erotic romance – nearly one hundred titles, and counting, in nearly every sub-genre—paranormal, scifi, ménage, BDSM, GLBT, and more. Regardless of the genre, every one of her stories illustrates her motto: Imagination is the ultimate aphrodisiac.

You’ll find information and excerpts from all Lisabet’s books on her website (http://www.lisabetsarai.com/books.html), along with more than fifty free stories and lots more. At her blog Beyond Romance (http://lisabetsarai.blogspot.com), she shares her philosophy and her news and hosts lots of other great authors. She’s also on Goodreads and finally, on Twitter.  Sign up for her VIP email list here:  https://btn.ymlp.com/xgjjhmhugmgh

A Must Read Trilogy

So, I saw a book and the description looked more interesting than anything I’ve seen in a long time in the world of paranormal romance, and coming from a new-to-me author. I’ve been more inclined to reread old favorites in my favorite genre than I have been to seek out new stories. I’m just as weary of trying to read stories I don’t like as every other reader out there…

But I saw this one and I decided to sign up for a review copy. I guess I’m a sadist in a way, and once I did sign up there was no going back. Then I realized it was a trilogy, and I’d just signed up for the third.

Praying hard, I found the first two books. Their descriptions looked interesting, too.  Then I saw the author was from Baltimore, Maryland, my hometown. Gotta support my fellow Maryland writers, especially when they’re writing my favorite genre, the genre I write.

N.D. Jones must be my storytelling soul mate. What I love, she wrote about. Concepts I use, she used too. And, praise all that’s holy, her books were amazing. I loved them all and once I started reading, I didn’t stop until they were finished. The Death and Destiny Trilogy is a must read for anyone who loves paranormal romance.

Of Fear and Faith

It’s been a while since I read a paranormal romance by a new-to-me author that I enjoyed this much. N.D. Jones wrote a fantastic story that sweeps you up and bowls you along. Her characters have depth, they’re relatable. You root for them, cheer their triumphs and wince when they show you just how ‘human’ they can be. She also shows you just how enduring and entertaining classic concepts can be in the right hands.

My only ‘criticism’ of this story was that she’d written a clear resolution, the conflict had been resolved…but the story kept going on, down a different path that later proves valuable to the series, but not that particular book. It felt unconnected from what had come before. I wondered if it had been meant to be a short story between Book 1 and Book 2, and so that’s how I viewed it. Bonus story! So, not really a criticism at all, in that light.

I sat down to read this entire series because, for the first time in a while, my interest was caught by a paranormal romance’s book description. I’m so glad I did. I devoured this series, barely coming up for air, doing little else until I’d read them all. This trilogy is going on my To-Be-Read-Again pile, and I’ll be watching for other books by N.D. Jones.

Of Beasts and Bonds

The whole story is well done—the whole trilogy for that matter. I love that the two main characters are revealing themselves to each other bit by bit, and that both their magic are developing in tandem. I love the intricate and rich relationships both main characters enjoy, giving a sense of the deep roots they have and what they have to lose. Technically, when the time comes, they will fight for the world, for a goddess, but you know they’re really fighting for their circle of friends and family and I think it’s fantastic that the extended characters are also developed enough to make us feel their connections.

I was fully immersed in the world of witches and were-cats when I began this story. N.D. Jones has crafted a trilogy that swept me up and carried me on. I went from finishing Book 1 to beginning Book 2 in the space of minutes, so I will say that the devil’s in the details, and there are many details in the second book, not all of them necessary and not all of them felt consistent. Nothing major, however, and it was easy to lose myself in the pages.

I am so glad I found this trilogy. It’s been too long since I enjoyed a paranormal romance from a new-to-me author, and I’d forgotten how exciting it is to find a gifted storyteller who writes stories you want to read again and again.

 Of Deception and Divinity

This book is nearly non-stop action. From paranormal battles to emotional upheavals, I couldn’t put this one down until I was finished—and that’s saying something considering how avidly I devoured the previous two books in the trilogy.

As the title implies, this book is the one where lies are revealed. N.D. Jones does a fantastic job of balancing the past influences on our main characters with their present day fears, failures, achievements and love. In fact, she makes the reader feel the love between Assefa and Sanura in a way that’s real, lasting…and threatened, so that you end up holding your breath in the hopes that they will find victory, which isn’t guaranteed.

All bonds are tested—friends, families, mates and familiars. Sanura’s character is a better woman than I am, because she proves herself much more forgiving than me, and more quickly forgiving at that. Assefa’s personal demons must be faced, and while I think the premise for his long absence from his witch a bit thin, it still holds merit considering his character’s fears, and I appreciate that he was the one that set about his own healing once he realized what he had to lose. Oddly enough I’m much more forgiving of the water witch of legend than the cat of legend, primarily because her inner conflict is completely understandable to me, but my disappointment in the one only emphasizes how ‘real’ these characters have been crafted to be.

One extremely minor ‘criticism’ for the formatting of this story. Near the end, the author inserts images in order to illustrate her vision. I’d have preferred the images to be in an appendix of some sort, and for her to have trusted her readers to create their own image, and to trust her own words, which were fluid and descriptive and more than good enough to convey the vision she wanted.

Romances have a happy ending. I wasn’t certain if this one would—there were several ways this story could have ended, including the continuation of the series into ‘the next generation’. It’s a testament to Ms. Jones’ skill that I was so worried for the outcome of her characters and, until it happened, I couldn’t be sure just what would happen.

Ms. Jones is taking the secondary characters of this book and creating stories for them, too. I will be the first in line to buy those books. If you enjoy paranormal romance as much as I do, you will not want to miss the Death and Destiny trilogy.

You can find the promotional post for N.D. Jones here.

Shayla Black – Devoted Lovers

The first in an all-new sexy contemporary romance series from New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Shayla Black.

Bodyguard and former military man Cutter Bryant has always done his duty—no matter what the personal cost. Now he’s taking one last high-octane, high-dollar assignment before settling down in a new role that means sacrificing his chance at love. But he never expects to share an irresistible chemistry with his beautiful new client.

Fame claimed Shealyn West suddenly and with a vengeance after starring in a steamy television drama, but it has come at the expense of her heart. Though she’s pretending to date a co-star for her image, a past mistake has come back to haunt her. With a blackmailer watching her every move and the threat of career-ending exposure looming, Shealyn hires Cutter to shore up her security, never imagining their attraction will be too powerful to contain.

As Shealyn and Cutter navigate the scintillating line between business and pleasure, they unravel a web of secrets that threaten their relationship and their lives. When danger strikes, Cutter must decide whether to follow his heart for the first time, or risk losing Shealyn forever.

COMING JULY 3, 2018!

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Devoted to Wicked

DEVOTED TO WICKED

A Wicked Lovers/Devoted Lovers Crossover Short

Sexy, suspenseful short!
Karis and Cage’s story.

Lovers reuniting in paradise?
Yes, please!

COMING DECEMBER 26, 2017!!

Links coming soon!

ShaylaBlack highres

Shayla Black is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of more than fifty novels. For nearly twenty years, she’s written contemporary, erotic, paranormal, and historical romances via traditional, independent, foreign, and audio publishers. Her books have sold millions of copies and been published in a dozen languages.

Raised an only child, Shayla occupied herself with lots of daydreaming, much to the chagrin of her teachers. In college, she found her love for reading and realized that she could have a career publishing the stories spinning in her imagination. Though she graduated with a degree in Marketing/Advertising and embarked on a stint in corporate America to pay the bills, her heart has always been with her characters. She’s thrilled that she’s been living her dream as a full-time author for the past eight years.

Shayla currently lives in North Texas with her wonderfully supportive husband, her teenage daughter, and two spoiled tabbies. In her “free” time, she enjoys reality TV, reading, and listening to an eclectic blend of music.

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What’s a Writer to Write About?

I’ve been wracking my brains for blog post topics. It’s harder than you might think and I’m really trying to be consistent with this idea now. Over the past few years, I’ve discovered I’m not very good at sharing my thoughts, not very good at conveying advice in a timeframe that might encourage people to look forward to a certain day. I’m not a blogger.

What can an author write about? Writing, which seems boring. Maybe some paranormal creatures, which is an interesting approach, I suppose. I do that sometimes. We’re not going to write about the plots spinning in our minds because we tend to be a paranoid breed and we don’t want others to write our story before we can.

With everything that’s been going on, I’ve been trying to figure out what to write that wasn’t political nature. That’s turning out to be harder than ever. There’s so much happening, so much destruction from nature and human nature both, so many bad decisions being made, so many people moving away from compassion and empathy, so many damned trolls on a variety of comment boards. In fact, some of these trolls—I can’t help but think—don’t even believe the bullshit they write, but I also think they’re tempting fate by writing it anyway.

What comes around goes around, and that’s a karmic law we’ve all seemed to have forgotten. It’s part of the golden rule of every religion—do unto others… That’s the gist, anyway.

I wonder if people stop to ask ‘why’ anymore. Why do you believe what you believe, why do you feel the way you do, why do you think whatever you think. How many of the thoughts and comments you repeat are really yours? And why can’t you see from the other’s point of view? Is it really so threatening to take pause and examine more closely? Just thinking about something doesn’t imply agreement of, or support for, that idea…

Maybe it just affords us a moment to remember that the other person is human too.

This came through my Tumblr the other day. Maybe there is something to this. Maybe, through all these natural disasters, all the strikes against humanity via terrorism, lone wolf gunmen or everyday assaults against compassion and understanding, we’re building a common, hidden thread of weariness that suggests enough is enough, and it’s time to be people again. It’s time to remember that everyone else is people, too.