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Archive for December, 2021

New Year’s Prep and an Early Happy New Year!!
Friday, December 31st, 2021

I wanted to get the picture and my wish for you to have a Happy New Year in early, because I won’t be online later tonight! I have things to do…

I’m in love with calendars-planners, with noting, if not chronicling, the passage of time. I’m a planner by nature. I create plans for my life and work which include things like deadlines to turn in books and all the incremental steps to get there. I write down holidays and birthdays. I also place little stickers on my monthly calendar to note full moons, new moons, etc. I have certain rituals to celebrate the change of seasons.

I also have certain rituals to celebrate and prepare for the new year.

Beginning in mid-December, I update all my plans for the next year’s work. I start with a mind map to create a loose visual of my goals. Then I go into my year’s goals and come up with the next quarter’s goals, and further refine the plan down to what I want to complete next week. Not that I follow it religiously. I adjust constantly as life and inspiration change.

I have some superstitious rituals I perform on New Year’s Eve. I’ll share them.

  • I place a penny on the ledge above my outside door on New Year’s Eve. Then on New Year’s Day, I’ll take it down and tuck it into my wallet. The penny is for money luck in the new year.
  • Nearing midnight, I open the door to the outside then waft burning sage through the rooms to chase any malignant spirit or feelings out of the house.
  • Lastly, and this can be the most fun, I prepare a hand spell. It’s a way of “speaking” my dreams into reality.

A hand spell works like this…

Trace your hand on a plain piece of paper then cut it out. Inside that hand, write down your wishes for the new year. At midnight, go outside with a lighter and set the paper on fire while you recite this:

“Inside this hand,
Inside this spell,
Dwell my hopes for the new year…”

Then say your hopes out loud. I think of the spell as a way of putting my wishes out into the world. By saying them aloud, my mind hears them and “sets” the expectations because there is power in the words you hear, even if you are the one doing the speaking. (And there’s an actual, physiological reason this works involving your RAS—but that’s something to talk about another day. 🙂 )

So, that’s how I prepare for entering a new year. Just thought I’d share some of my weirdness with you.

Do you have any rituals? Any foods, any activities that are part of your “rituals”?

Meet Izzy Archer! (FREE BOOK)
Thursday, December 30th, 2021

This post is a duplicate of the one I put up on the Collections website today. I didn’t have a guest here and was feeling a little lazy—plus, I love to introduce new authors to you all. Be sure to welcome Izzy and take advantage of her special offer!

Good things come to those who wait?

I’ve been writing for years—familiar story—without thinking about a next step! They say, write what you want to read. I write stories about love, lust, romance, relationships, and am now just realizing, hey, someone else might enjoy these suckers. Being a fan of Delilah’s racy romances, I’m over-joyed for Izzy’s debut in the Cowboys Behaving Badly Anthology. I hope you love Deacon in “Something to Talk About” as much as I do, and please reach out if you’d like more of my strong, silent, hunky cowboy! My brand-spanking-new website went live today. Come find me!

About Izzy

  • Izzy Archer is my pen name… shhhh. She’s badass.
  • I discovered my love for erotic romance in a writing course: How to Write SEX. I’m currently working on a collection of erotic short stories revised from my old homework assignments.
  • Paris is my favorite city and will definitely factor into future stories!
  • I recently moved into an old Victorian in the Boston area, so it’s a good thing I’m handy, own power tools, and can fix things. Although, this place is over my skill level. But what’s more inspiring to a romance writer than crews of interesting workers coming and going? Everyone has a backstory!
  • I turned into a wine snob from living in California. Reds from boutique vineyards. My favorite kind of day is wine tasting while taking in a view of the mountains.
  • I believe in true love, soul mates, and the destiny we make. I create strong female characters. Don’t get me wrong, I love an alpha male. But, if there’s rescuing to be done, she’s fully capable.
  • My stories will always have a happy ending. Otherwise, what’s the point?

I believe good things can come at any time! And if you’re willing to wait until late winter/early spring, I’d love to send you a freebie of my story collection when it’s out! Sign up on my new—as in HITTING-THE-LIVE-BUTTON on 12.30.21 (TODAY!)—website newsletter list. The Mailing List link is on my Contact page. Mention Delilah or Cowboys, and I will send you a book in 2022! Find the link here:

Cafe Paris is for Lovers

SNEAK PEEK from short story, Prêt-à-porter (Ready to Wear) inside Cafe Paris is for Lovers

Caroline, in Paris for Fashion Week, meets her longtime lover at a café in Le Marais, where he has arranged a special lunch for her…

Caroline wove her way through the outdoor seating of tiny marble-topped tables and caned-back chairs to the inside warmth of the cafe. She inhaled the smell of fresh bread and dark roasted coffee.

“Jean Claude, you waited for me.”

“Caroline, pas du problem. I’d wait a thousand years for you.” Jean Claude stood immediately and discarded the paper on the chair. He kissed her on each cheek, Parisian-style, right-left-right, and then they embraced. Tight at first, like old friends. When his hand lingered around her waist, his lips grazing her neck, Caroline smiled to herself. Only a tourist would think we were just friends.

About the Author

Izzy Archer writes erotic romance with a pen in one hand and a glass of Casamigos Reposado in the other. On the rocks, with a twist of lime. She has a fondness for both cowboys and cowboy boots. Not always in that order. Find out more about Izzy at!

Her story inside Cowboys: A Boys Behaving Badly Anthology was “Something to Talk About

When a grad student takes a job as a nanny to two motherless children on a cutting horse ranch, she catches the eye of her sexy boss

Flashback: Hard SEAL to Love (Contest–2 Winners!)
Wednesday, December 29th, 2021

UPDATE: The winners are…Daun Ann Corty and Laura!

I loved writing my Uncharted SEALs series. All those rugged, alpha heroes and strong heroines. Humor. Action. All the ingredients that make stories fun for me to write, and hopefully, fun for you to read.

With Uncharted SEALs, I experimented a bit. For the first time, I did sequels with the same characters—for the simple reason I couldn’t say goodbye to them. I wanted to see inside their Happy Ever Afters. Through Her Eyes and Between a SEAL and a Hard Place share the same main characters, as do Dream of Me and Heart of a SEAL. Big Sky SEAL gave birth to my Montana Bounty Hunters, introducing Jamie and Reaper, who as a result of their work in Big Sky earned their own satellite office of MBH.

A fun theme I used in two of the stories was a cruise ship. Both Before We Kiss and Hard SEAL to Love are set on the same ship and have the same supporting characters. Plus, Hard SEAL to Love features a disabled female vet! Enjoy the excerpt below!

Watch Over Me   
Baby, It's You Before We Kiss Special Forces: Operation Alpha: Between a SEAL and a Hard Place 
  Head Over SEAL

Click on the covers to learn more!


Win your choice of one of my Uncharted SEALs stories! There will be 3 winners! All you have to do to enter is answer me this…

(IGNORE COVID) If you got two free tickets for a cruise, who would you take with you and where would you go?

Hard SEAL to Love

Hard SEAL to Love

Former SEAL, “Big Mac” McLane, is sure he earned all kinds of bad karma somewhere when his first mission with Charter Group is guarding the “Love Boat” and its activity director. Okay, so the cruise line is sponsoring a special cruise for wounded soldiers and their families — a great cause — but Big Mac doesn’t do well around families and children, and Kylie Hammond is cute, but he feels like he has two left feet whenever she’s around. But he’s going to do his job, keep it strictly business, fade into the background whenever she’s around, but it seems Kylie has other ideas…

Kylie knows the big SEAL isn’t exactly gung-ho for his new assignment, but she can’t be more pleased. The big man’s the yummiest thing she’s ever seen, and coaxing blushes and glares from him becomes her favorite sport. But then things begin to go wrong aboard ship, people disappear, and then someone’s killed. The thing her charity most feared — a terrorist attack at sea — appears to be underway. Now, she has to trust Big Mac and his team to keep her wounded soldiers safe.

Excerpt from Hard SEAL to Love

“Big Mac” McLane stood on the well-lit dock beside his team leader, Deke Warrick, and his teammate, Jackson Keller, as crewmembers and dockworkers rolled storage containers from the belly of the huge cruise ship. Soon, the refuse from a four-day cruise would be disposed of, and new provisions, along with a new group of passengers, loaded.

Waves lapped against the piers, the wheels of the rolling containers whirred and grated, and forklifts beeped. All familiar sounds but made surreal because he wasn’t waiting to board some Navy battleship, and the size of the cruise ship was astounding.

Mac admired the lock-step precision of the entire operation as the unloading continued. Despite the added pressure of law enforcement personnel crawling all over the ship, the Delphin’s crew didn’t miss a beat. Nothing would delay the ship from leaving the dock just after fourteen hundred hours that day. The cruise ship had a schedule to keep.

Stretching his arms, Mac stifled a yawn. The trio had taken a red-eye flight from Dallas to meet the ship in Miami. Due to the recent troubles, Charter Group wanted feet on the ground to make sure the Countess cruise line and law enforcement were taking seriously the string of events aboard their ships that had unfolded over the past weeks since the abduction of Poppy Shackleford. Although Charter Group’s people had successfully recovered the general’s daughter, everyone involved with the upcoming Soldiers’ Sanctuary cruise feared the problems would only escalate. Mac had been tapped to provide the program director protection during the special cruise which was scheduled to leave the Port of Miami the following day.

Although the time was just past O-five-hundred, the air this morning was warm and balmy. Temperatures would rise to a boil by mid-morning, so Mac didn’t mind waiting on the dock to speak to the Delphin’s captain while passengers set to disembark midmorning still slept. A Miami-Dade County medical examiner’s van stood by to remove the body of one unlucky soul whose cruise hadn’t ended well.

“And the ship’s doctor is sure the cause wasn’t a heart attack?” Jax murmured.

Deke’s lips tightened. “He smelled almonds, and the woman’s cheeks were cherry red. Her traveling companion described her as having a seizure and not being able to breathe. M.E. looking at the body now thinks it was cyanide, but we won’t know for sure until an autopsy’s performed.”

Jax scraped his palm across his stubbled jaw. “No one else was affected?”

Deke shook his head. “It happened while they were eating in the dining room. No one else’s plate was tampered with.”

“The traveling companion?”

Deke shrugged. “Her girlfriend of thirty years. The ship’s doctor had to administer a strong sedative because she freaked. He doesn’t think she did it.”

“So, another incident.” Mac took a deep breath. “How many does this make?”

“Three.” Deke lifted his hand and began counting off the list with his fingers. “First, a water system was tampered with on the Tethys. Someone flushed red dye through the ship’s fresh water. Passengers thought it was blood.”

“So they may have been testing methods of dispersal,” Jax muttered.

“Looks like. Or they could be assessing which method of attack will cause the most panic. Next, was the small explosion in the engine room aboard the Nereus. The ship had backup generators, so services weren’t stopped, and the crew effected repairs to continue to their next port. Other than a loud boom, the incident caused no injuries, and the passengers were no wiser. The cruise line can’t be a hundred percent sure whether it was sabotage or a malfunction. So their resistant to cancelling any voyages. But their security’s stretched. And now, we have last night’s poisoning…”

“Gonna be bad PR for the line,” Jax said, shaking his head.

“The company’s keeping the incidents under wraps,” Deke said. “And Homeland’s locking down this investigation here. Miami-Dade will help with interviewing passengers and crew, but they’re informing everyone for now that it was a routine death at sea.

“Just got off the phone with Jake Patton at Homeland. He says they want to catch whoever did this. They don’t want the culprits spooked and scattered to the winds. If their ultimate target is the soldiers’ cruise, we’ll be waiting. In the meantime, they do their due diligence, talk to every person on that ship who had access to the victim’s meal, and search every corner of the ship to see if any clues were left behind. He’ll have men with the ship when it sails today to continue the investigation.”

“Had to have been wait staff,” Mac said, frowning while he thought about the thousands of support personnel that worked on the ship. Homeland and the police had a small army ready to question all cooks and waiters and still wouldn’t be done before the boat sailed.

“Probably was some waiter,” Jax said, “maybe someone embedded, or someone bribed or threatened to get them to add the poison to her plate. And the next question is whether the victim was a random target—as in, just another test.”

“Or they’re taunting us.” Mac’s hands slowly curled into fists. He hated goddamn cowards who picked a fight but didn’t bother showing their faces. “Maybe they’re letting us know they can get to our guys, no matter how well prepared we are.”

Deke’s cheeks billowed as he blew out a long breath. His gaze darted to Mac. “You’re set to meet with Kylie Hammond at the Hampton Inn this morning. Have to warn you, she’s no happier at the thought of having a babysitter than Poppy was to discover we’d put Wiley on her detail.”

Mac grimaced. “Doesn’t matter if she’s not happy. I’m her date for the next four days. She won’t move without me one step behind her.”

As he leaned forward to look sideways, Jax’s mouth twitched. “Didn’t turn out so bad for Wiley and Poppy.”

Yeah, right. Mac gave him a blistering glare. A wedding at sea wasn’t in his plans. Nope. Didn’t matter if Kylie Hammond was a knock-out or not, he was immune to commitment. After transferring teams, all he wanted was to settle into this gig and prove his worth to Deke. “So, you two wanna tell me who I pissed off to get this assignment?”

Jax chuckled.

Deke’s grin was wry. “Thought you were ready for a vacation.”

Mac shook his head. Maybe he’d been too quick to accept Charter’s offer for an “easy assignment” after the last one where he’d spent weeks guarding freighters dodging Somali pirates. He’d been ready for some down time. Had even considered doing some house hunting or heading to his buddy Carter’s ranch in Texas. Although the last time he’d been there, he’d grown restless after witnessing just how happy Carter was with his new wife and little niece he’d adopted to raise as his own.

All that domesticity had made him itch. As a guy who’d spent his teenage years bounced around in foster homes, he couldn’t imagine any man willingly being leg-shackled to one woman or even planting roots to live in one place. Not that he couldn’t see the attraction. Carter had carved out a nice life for himself. Now that his father was on the mend, Carter wasn’t tied to the ranch, although he was always eager to return there after an assignment. He had a pretty wife, a great kid, and nice-sized piece of heaven in the ranch he’d someday inherit.

Family, a home passed down through generations of Texans—all that was as foreign to Mac as the thought of sitting on the “Love Boat” for a fancy cruise with a privileged society girl building her social media cred through charity work. “Hell,” he muttered. “Job’s just four damn days.”

“Five. The assignment starts today.”

Mac lifted his shoulder. “Whatever. She’s locked down in the hotel until the buses come tomorrow morning to take the soldiers to the ship.”

Jax slapped his shoulder. “You do know ships’ captains can perform marriages in international waters…”

“Hey, I’m happy for Wiley.” Mac shuddered. “But he has General Shackleford for a father-in-law. Wonder if he has to snap a salute before they sit around the table to eat turkey and cranberries at Thanksgiving.”

Deke coughed into his fist. “Having a powerful father-in-law isn’t always a pain in the ass.”

Mac winced, having forgotten that Deke’s father-in-law was a former Navy commander-turned-congressman, and was now in charge of special operations for Charter Group. “How’s old Commander Martir doing, anyway?”

“Still a badass,” Deke said, giving him a glare.

“Once a SEAL…” Shrugging, Mac didn’t complete the phrase.

“Stop bellyaching about the assignment, McLane.” Deke braced his feet apart. “You might be bunking in a stateroom but don’t treat this assignment differently from any other you’ve had. Kylie Hammond’s safety is your mission.”


Five hours later, Mac stepped through the entrance of the Hampton Inn. The lobby was a study in orderly chaos. Suitcases were lined up and stacked against one wall. Men and women, some in wheelchairs or walking with crutches and walkers, and missing limbs—some multiples—filled the space.

Mac tamped down a feeling of guilt for being able-bodied and whole as he walked through the throng, nodding now and then as he passed the veterans. He headed to the concierge and asked where he could find Kylie Hammond. After being informed which conference room Soldiers’ Sanctuary had commandeered to hand out welcome packets to arrivals, he headed down a hallway, relieved he didn’t have to push through a sea of bodies. He was ready to start this op. Sooner the better. Five days would fly by, and then he’d have the down time he needed to get his head on straight before the next assignment.

Stepping inside the room, he noted two long conference tables filled with plastic buckets of folders. Three elderly men manned the table.

One of them who sported a gray buzz cut and a surprisingly muscular build glanced his way. He lifted his chin in greeting.

Mac decided he was as good a place to start as any and strode toward him.

The old man held out his hand. “Joe Olinksy,” he said, in deep, loud voice. Then he leaned against the table edge and whispered, “You with Charter?”

Mac eyed him then glanced at his two buddies who were moving closer. His presence as part of the security team was supposed to be on a “need-to-know” basis.

Grinning, Joe waved a hand. “We’re part of your support. Eyes and ears only. We’re a little too long in the tooth to be the muscle, but we’re here to help. We’ll be staying in the stateroom next to yours.”

Skeptical that this band of elderly brothers could be of any service at all, Mac drew a deep breath and gave Joe’s two companions another look.

“This is Morty,” Joe said, pointing toward a thin man with a round, pot belly. “And that’s Sly.”

Sly smiled, and his teeth were blindingly white and little too large in his mouth.

“Ex-marines, 3rd Division during Viet Nam,” Joe said. “You a SEAL like Wiley?”

“Semper Fi,” Morty said, grinning.

Mac grunted, revising his original assessment. These guys had seen real action. “I’m looking for Kylie Hammond.”

“She’s out in the atrium,” Joe pointed toward the windows behind him, “getting a cup of coffee. She’s been manning the tables since dawn. And don’t worry about us. We can handle ourselves. After all our help on the last cruise, Poppy made sure to add us to the team. We’ll have your six.”

The three elderly men hadn’t been mentioned in any of the briefings he’d attended back at HQ. Wiley for damn sure hadn’t said a thing, but then again, Wiley had looked a little smug when he’d heard Mac was being assigned to protect his wife’s best friend. He cleared his throat. “Mac McLane by the way,” he said, giving a nod to all three men.

“We’ll see you aboard the Oceanus,” Joe said.

Mac left them and thought about calling Wiley to find out why the hell he hadn’t mentioned his geriatric buddies. Just to bitch because he was already dreading the coming minutes. He didn’t have a lot of experience with Ms. Hammond’s brand of womanhood. He’d served with women in the field, and slept with the women who swarmed bars outside Navy bases, hoping for a hookup with a SEAL.

Women outside those two categories tended to make him nervous. In his experience, women had served only two purposes, as support and/or stress-relief for a SEAL. Not that he looked down on them. He liked the women he’d known. But he hadn’t had to think much about what kind of impression he made or how to talk to them. He could be gruff and blunt. What the hell would he talk about for the days and nights he and the princess would be glued to each other’s sides?

Entering the atrium, he glanced around for someone who fit the picture he’d made up in his mind. She’d be pretty, no doubt. He couldn’t imagine anyone who was friends with Poppy Shackleford and attending her social functions looking any different.
Most of the small round, brightly tiled tables were filled with men and a few women. Probably wives of the wounded soldiers, who’d be accompanying their husbands on the cruise.

One woman sat alone, her head bent over her cell phone which lay flat on the tabletop, a tall Styrofoam cup beside it. Her hair was a mass of dark brown curls. Her body, what he could see of it hunched over the table, was slender. Her bare arms and the tops of her shoulders, revealed by an olive tank, showed well-developed muscles. She wore no jewelry, save for a watch on an olive-colored web strap. Faux military-issue? And now he wondered whether she was one of those who was so enamored of military men she wore cammo pajamas. He’d met a few like that. As he moved nearer, she must have sensed someone watched her.

The woman’s gaze lifted from her phone and locked with his.

As he took in her features, he slowed his steps. Wide-set green eyes whose gaze never wavered, tan skin, rose-colored lips, cheeks that were prominent and high. She was lovely, but didn’t wear a hint of makeup. She didn’t need it. Unbidden, interest flared inside him, heating his blood.

“Are you Mac?” she asked, her voice even and little husky.

His tongue felt thick as he gave a crisp nod and replied. “You Kylie?”

Her smile was a little tight, but she pushed up from the table to greet him, her arm reaching forward.

When he looked down at her hand, with its long fingers and short bare nails, his gaze dropped to her legs. Another shock stole his breath. She wore shorts which ended at mid-thigh, revealing one long, nicely turned limb paired with a shapely thigh that disappeared into the black cup of a prosthetic limb.

‘Twas Days After Christmas… (Contest)
Tuesday, December 28th, 2021

UPDATE: The winner is…Carol Cox!

Okay, so I wanted to do a “‘Twas the Night After Christmas” post and write a short poem about shredded wrapping paper and round bellies, but I’m too lazy for that.

I haven’t just been in a food coma; I’ve been in sensory overload. Too many lovely gifts, too many wonderful, eatable treats—the biggest box of Russell Stover’s chocolate I’ve ever seen (and which is now nearly empty). I’m not stepping on the scale until January 1st when I begin my 50th New Year’s Resolution diet.

The chocolates were pretty awesome, as were the rest of the gifts, but, for me, the best part of Christmas was watching the kids unwrap their presents, one at a time, waiting to see what the other kids got, and being supportive and excited for each other, saying how cool everything was. I’m used to them tearing into the wrappings like the Tasmanian devil, but this time, they were there for each other. And yeah, it took forever to unwrap gifts, but it was worth it. Even at O-dark-thirty in the morning when I could’ve been sleeping in. 🙂

So, I’d love to hear something about your favorite Christmas memories—from this Christman/winter holiday or one in the past. Share for a chance to win a $5 Amazon gift card!

D’Arcy Arden: The Fourth State of Matter
Monday, December 27th, 2021

When I started writing The Fourth State of Matter, I intended for it to be a poly relationship between a human and two alien characters. However, as I was coming up with the characters I ran into a problem. I couldn’t decide how to design the aliens.

My writing process is usually to start by drawing the characters first. If I can draw them that means I can envision them clearly enough to write about them. I went through several different designs for the aliens, and eventually whittled it down to three different ones.

Then, as I was debating which of the three designs to discard, a thought occurred to me. Why do I have to choose at all?

And so, my ménage à trois became a ménage à quatre.

The Fourth State of Matter is a story that explores the intricacies of an atypical relationship. These characters proudly rebel against the norm, but that doesn’t mean they are free from conflict. There is plenty of drama to be found, both internally and externally. From personal conflicts of self-worth to government agents trying to split our main characters apart, this story features a little of everything.

Between these pages you’ll also find a great sci-fi story, steamy foursome sex scenes between a human and his three alien lovers, and a psychological exploration of what it means to be human. If any of this sounds like your cup of tea, then check out The Fourth State of Matter.

The Fourth State of Matter

Earth is dead. Humanity survives by selling the only resource available—themselves. 2689 has signed away his rights as a living being and become décor, living artwork that rich aliens use to decorate their homes. It’s a stable existence but a boring one. Until one day his owner plays host to three unexpected guests. Large, loud, and more potent than anything 2689 has ever experienced, this trio of ship-dwellers from the wrong side of the universe awakens a desire he can’t ignore.

However, blissful days of sex and companionship with Brog, Desmodian, and Xavis come to an end when 2689 discovers a plot that could land the trio in jail…or worse. 2689 will have to make a choice—stay silent and allow three innocent lives to be ruined or give up his stable life to protect the ones he loves.

Check out the trailer!

The Use of Heavy Water

And for further adventures, be on the lookout for the upcoming sequel The Use of Heavy Water. Find out more here:

~D’Arcy Arden

Merry Christmas & Happy Holiday! Plus, a Puzzle Break!
Saturday, December 25th, 2021

I’m up at O-dark-thirty because the 8-year-old will wake soon. I have to enjoy these times while I can because, one day, she won’t still believe in Santa. Her mom wasn’t as smart as me. I “preserved” the magic of Christmas by telling my kids Santa doesn’t leave gifts for kids who don’t believe. I’ve never heard them deny Santa’s existence! 🙂

Here’s hoping you have a lovely day. While you sip your hot cocoa in a lull during your holiday activities, enjoy a puzzle. My Christmas gift to you.

Gabbi Grey: What’s with instalove? (Contest)
Friday, December 24th, 2021

UPDATE: The winner is…Adisen!

I have an admission to make—I was never a fan of instalove.  I mean, how do two people meet and just, like, know?  To me, love takes time.  Time to get to know the other person.  Time to figure out if you’re compatible with them.  Time to sort through all the baggage you both are carrying.  (Because you don’t get to my age without some serious baggage…)

Maybe I’m showing my age.

When I sit down and put pen to paper, though, logic and common-sense fly right out the window.  Of course, my couples are going to meet and know.  Of course, everything is going to go right.  Of course, there’s going to be a dark moment of the soul when all looks lost.  Of course, they’re going to wind up together.

Now, in my mind, these progressions happen gradually.  There might be attraction, but the characters have to work through their deep emotional wounds before they can find their happily ever after.  And I do love to make my characters suffer.  What’s the worst thing that can happen?  Make that happen.  Think things can’t get worse?  They can.  But I’m always working toward the happily ever after.

Up until this latest release, all my stories were novellas.  Longer than a short story.  Shorter than a novel.  A nice in-between place.  The problem?  Between the emotional wounds and the action of the tale, that’s a lot of story to fit into a tight package.  Readers have assured me I’ve done it well.  Reviewers have decried “instalove”.

Ginger Snapping All the Way was supposed to be different.  It’s my first full-length gay romance.  The plan was for it to be a novella, but the story quickly got away from me, and writing long was my only option.  I don’t regret it.  I love this book.  I believed since the book was longer, I could avoid some of the instalove criticism.  Except, it’s not the length of the story, but the length of the time the characters are together that determines instalove.  Yes, Maddox and Ravi are only together three days before they figure it out.  They know.  And yeah, that makes it instalove.

So, heap on the criticism.  Decry that it’s not realistic.  I’ll stand by my story.  These guys fought hard to be in a place to accept love. Love that is freely given.  Love with no expectations.  A true happily ever after.

And, of course, a cute dog.

I would love to know what you think about instalove.  Drop me a comment for a chance to win a $5 Amazon GC.

Ginger Snapping All the Way


I’m not a fan of Christmas. I’m happy to stay up in my mountain cabin and let the silly season pass me by.  But when a friend asks for a favor, I can’t say no.  Now I’m stuck in my cabin during a snowstorm, trapped with the most beautiful man I’ve ever met—who can’t wait to get away. He just might break my heart when he goes.


I’m racing to get home for the birth of my goddaughter when mechanical troubles force my plane’s emergency landing. There are no beds at the inn due to a horrendous storm, but a friend says she knows a guy who won’t mind putting me up until the bad weather passes.  Now I’m trapped with that man, and I must decide if I stay, hiding from the rest of the world, or go and face my past to earn a shot at my happily ever after.

This is a 72k word, hurt/comfort, lumberjack/nurse, grumpy/sunshine, forced proximity MM romance novel with a moderate amount of angst.

Pre-Christmas Release price: 99 cents!!

eBook Links:
Amazon US:
Amazon CA:
Barnes & Noble:
Universal Book Link:

Audio Links:
Audible US:
Audible UK:

Excerpt from Ginger Snapping All the Way…

“Give me ten.”

He grinned. “Take fifteen.” He headed to the bathroom while I detoured to the walk-in closet to snag my terry towel bathrobe, and then I shoved my feet into my faux sheepskin lined leather slippers—a gift from Hillary. I’d be chilly by the time Princess did her job, but Ravi’d warm me up right quick. I opened the door to find my pooch planted at the door, tapping her metaphorical paw.

She’d obviously heard voices and decided she’d been patient long enough.

I ruffled the fur on the top of her heard and she gave me the stink eye. Ah, so all was not forgiven. Hard to say whether the bribery bone was going to get me back into her good books.

She followed me as I headed down the stairs, flipping on lights as I went.

Her nails clacked on the hardwood floor.

Time to trim them again.

One of the few things I didn’t enjoy as her owner. The thought of cutting her to the quick terrified me, but the alternative was going into town to the groomer’s and that was too much peopling for me.

Man, I really had to re-examine my life. If taking care of Sofia meant going into town, I should make the effort. She was probably due for some shots as well. I’d call Dr. Zephyra’s vet clinic and make an appointment for her. I opened the back door and was hit with a blast of frigid air.

Sofia balked.

I nudged her gently with my toe.

She glared.

I pointed.

She shrugged. And finally stepped out.

The nice square I’d cleared yesterday had almost another foot. All while we’d slept. Uh, thank you, universe. This meant I’d get my delicious gorgeous man for another day. Yum. I had plans. So many plans.

My stomach rumbled. I considered. Okay, yeah, dinner’d been about eleven hours ago. But I didn’t want to stop for food. I didn’t want to stop for anything. Princess Sofia finally squatted, and I did an inner cheer. My legs were turning into ice as she deigned to do her business. And with all the snow that’d accumulated against her belly, I now needed to grab a towel. More time. It would take more time to dry her off, and I needed more time with Ravi. Was I allowed to hope the snow never stopped?

Sofia tried to dodge around my legs, but I was quicker. I halted her progress and kept one hand clutching her collar while the other closed and locked the door. I snagged her towel, and she gave me a baleful look. Seriously? If someone offered to rub me down and I was wet, I certainly wouldn’t complain. Especially if that someone had tan skin, deep dark-brown eyes, and a killer smile.

My cock sat up and took notice at that thought. Sighing, I wrapped Sofia in the towel and rubbed vigorously, all the while thinking of other things I’d love to rub. When she was drier, I put her down.

She bolted for her bowl and nosed her very expensive kibble. And gave me that look.

I swear to God, the dog was psychic. Or I’d given in to her demands once too often—I wasn’t sure which. I moved to the cupboard and pulled down the very expensive wet food. And cursed. I hadn’t brushed her teeth the last two nights. After a very expensive dental bill, I’d decided I’d rather brush her teeth every night than lose another thousand bucks. It’d also cost her three teeth. That was really the determining factor.

And she didn’t really fight anymore. She just liked to put on a good show.

Sighing, I dumped the food into a bowl and separated it into Sofia-appropriate sized bites. I barely put the bowl on the floor before she’d scarfed most of it down. No delicacy here—she ate like a starving wolf after a long winter. Or like she hadn’t been fed for a month. Sheesh.

Hot chocolate. And ginger snap cookies.

I pulled the milk from the fridge, then grabbed two mugs. It took entirely too long to prepare two mugs, but in the meantime, I grabbed a sandwich bag and added four cookies. I’d prefer presenting the cookies on a nice plate Hillary had insisted on giving me—because she insisted I would eventually have company—but two mugs and a plate was just too much to carry. I doubted Ravi’d care how I presented the cookies.

I snagged Sofia’s wet-food bowl off the floor and put it into the dishwasher. Then I selected a small frozen soup bone for her.

Her eyes lit with glee—a double treat.

Enjoy it, pooch.

Not going to happen again any time soon.

Unless Ravi stays…

Nope, not going there.

I held out the bone, and she angled her head to grab it with her little teeth.

She made a beeline to her bed in front of the fireplace. She dropped the bone and sniffed it, clearly trying to decide the best way to approach this.

About the Author

Gabbi lives in beautiful British Columbia where her fur baby chin-poo keeps her safe from the nasty neighborhood squirrels. Working for the government by day, she spends her early mornings writing contemporary, gay, sweet, and dark erotic BDSM romances. While she firmly believes in happy endings, she also believes in making her characters suffer before finding their true love. She also writes m/f romances as Gabbi Black.

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