If you’re a recent convert to my books, you might not know I write genres other than romantic suspense. One of my favorites to write is paranormal.

Today, I have a re-release of a book I wrote for Ellora’s Cave back in the day. I’ve done some revising, naturally. It’s a f/f romance, so it might not be your cup of tea. However, it is magickal, creepy, sexy—and set in New Orleans and in a voodoo purgatory. If you’re still not convinced you want to give it a try, it’s FREE for KU subscribers!

Plus, I have a new pre-order up! It’s the next story in the Beaux Rêve Coven series, which features my five witches living on a Louisiana bayou with so many demon beaus they’re tripping over them! Check it out below!

Enjoy the long weekend! ~DD

Mambo’s Door

A f/f paranormal novelette…

Ingrid Kassel is a fledgling witch, uncertain and not in complete control of her powers, especially after drinking a double-shot of vampire blood. Charged with retrieving an object buried with a daughter of the Voodoo Queen–she angers the spirit guarding the tomb and finds herself entering a shadowy limbo, where she meets beautiful Marie, living in fear of a demon who also desires the black magic candle infused with the powerful mambo’s blood.

In desperation, Marie tricks Ingrid, capturing her and seducing her to charge the candle for her own bid for freedom.

Get your copy here!

Excerpt from Mambo’s Door…

A drunk on the sidewalk bumped past Ingrid Kassel.

Instinctively, she turned her head and issued a hiss, baring teeth. Not that she had fangs to back up the warning, but her temper simmered at a slow, angry boil, and her reactions weren’t entirely her own. A single taste of blood had ignited a hunger for more, it seemed, and the loss of control pissed her off.

If this was what it felt like to be a vampire, it was a damn good thing she was a witch.

Ever since Magda, the coven’s priestess, had given her Elena Csintalan’s blood to drink to lend her strength for her quest, Ingrid had fought to retain a sense of self.

The moment the viscous fluid had slid down her throat the ground had swayed, shifting under her feet. Magda had urged her to drink more, her vivid eyes glinting with excitement.

With a dizzy shake of her head, Ingrid’s sight had changed—shadowy corners resolving into stark relief. Her sense of smell had refined so that, now, she could still detect the sour odor of cheap whiskey emanating from the skin of the drunk even though he’d shuffled around the corner. A feeling of invulnerability, of superhero strength, burned through her blood, hardening her muscles. She felt ready to test her newfound but temporary powers on the first person who looked at her crosswise.

And that just wasn’t her. Or if it was, she’d been really good at being a quiet, dutiful girl for so long that she’d convinced herself she wasn’t a grumpy badass.
Ingrid checked her watch and cursed. She was late. She’d stopped by her one-room apartment to dress in a long-sleeved black tee, dark jeans, and running shoes. She’d clipped her golden-brown hair into a messy bun and stuck a black ball cap on her head to cover it.

All so she could blend into the darkness. As if she were dressing up for a second-story job. Like Tom Cruise ready to zip down a wire.

Then she’d decided to pick up some supplies. The trip to the convenience store had taken longer than it should have because every drunk in the city had been in line to buy hooch for the night.

A nervous energy pushed her faster. She had to retrieve the relic, charge it, and then return to her coven before the magickal energy from the relic dissipated, because, then, the spell wouldn’t work. Why she in particular had been chosen for this task was a mystery, but there was a lot she didn’t understand about the murky underworld she’d entered a year ago.

Most of the time, she simply banked her irritation with things she didn’t comprehend and saved her questions, reminding herself that she was still a fledgling witch and the others expected her to learn the craft in measured layers.

However, even without the vampire booster shot she’d drunk, she wasn’t a patient person. Even though Magda and the other women who mentored her constantly hovered when she played with magick, she’d practiced in secret, honing her skills. They didn’t have a clue what she could do.

Which made the fact Magda had assigned her this mission even more mystifying.

“Bring me the mambo’s candle,” Magda had said, hands cupping Ingrid’s face so that their gazes locked for a long, terrifying moment.

Staring into Magda’s dark eyes, Ingrid had relived the moment when the Blood Countess had swept into The Absinthe House and whisked away four women—three vampires and Cassia, her coven sister.

Then more pictures clicked through her mind like an old-fashioned movie reel, of more of her sisters chained inside a dark, dungeon-like room with their eyes glowing, faces lax, while the Hell Bitch, Elizabeth Bathory, painted her skin with the blood of another victim. Of Bourbon Street in chaos while Bathory’s army of vampires tore through the district on a bloody rampage.

Why Magda had decided to show her those visions was another mystery she might never fathom. However, it had impressed upon her the importance of her task. The fate of the city rested on her shoulders.

Ingrid shook off the chill that crept down her spine. St. Louis Cemetery Number One loomed just ahead. Time to get serious.

She slung the plastic grocery bag over one shoulder and ran along the whitewashed, brick wall to the iron gate, which she scurried up hand-over-hand before swinging over the top of the iron rail at the entrance to the graveyard.

Power still surging through her veins, she nearly laughed when she landed. She crouched and gave a quick glance behind her to see if anyone had noticed, but those walking along Basin Street this late at night hadn’t seen the blur of her figure running beside the wall, much less her creepy, spider-like feat.

Her heart thrummed strong inside her chest. Her body felt powerful, her breaths came steadily, even though she’d had to rush. For the first time, she envied vampires.

Until she smacked her lips and once again tasted the metallic flavor of the blood she’d choked down.

Dumping out the contents of the bag, she raked through it until she found the box of colored chalk. She opened the package, discarding all but the purple piece, then knelt on the sidewalk and drew a crude purple heart with curlicues extending from the bottom point, a triangle beneath it, and bars across the top, middle and bottom that ended in crosses. Then she tossed away the chalk, closed her eyes, envisioning her goal, and prayed to the loa of the cemetery.

“Ma’man Brigit, goddess of this cemetery, please guide me to Marie Laveau’s crypt.”

She opened her eyes, stuffed the things she still needed into the bag, and lunged to her feet, running straight ahead, not waiting for an answer because she was well acquainted with this particular divinity. Ma’man Brigit admired confidence in a woman. Even more, her pride would be stroked that she’d been asked, rather than her husband, Baron Samedi, loa of the dead. And Ma’man didn’t like humans fumbling around her realm. Something Ingrid had learned in her secret studies of Voodoo, or Vodou, as practitioners called it.

Moonlight filtered down, striking the long rows of pale, above-ground crypts, illuminating their whitewashed and marble exteriors, some more than others.

“Thank you, Goddess,” Ingrid whispered as she dashed toward the brightest row. She turned, and one mottled, stucco crypt sat awash in moonlight, tall candles huddled against its base, coins sparkling on the ground, glittery Mardi Gras beads draped on sharp edges—all left by worshipers seeking advice or a special wish.

X marks marred the three-panel marble front of the crypt, a groundskeeper’s bane for sure, but she was about to add more. She knelt and dumped her sack atop the Glapion family marker—the supposed resting place of Marie Laveau and her daughters—picked up a candle scented with dragon’s blood, lit it and placed it in front of the door. Then she selected a red marker and drew three X’s on the crypt.

“Beautiful Madame Laveau, please open your door. I seek a talisman, one you entrusted to your daughter, Marie. Please grant my wish.”

She waited. Nothing happened. Sighing, she tried to think of something more “witchy”—and didn’t everything sound more magickal in Latin?

“Lanua aperta!”

Again, she paused. Then, irritated because nothing was happening, she leaned over the jumbled mess of coins, beads and candles and shoved at one of the stone panels. “Dammit, I asked nicely.”

A throaty chuckle sounded behind her. Ingrid scrambled around, still on her knees, to behold the full-bodied figure of a woman dressed in long robes, her shape nearly transparent but glowing, shimmering at the edges like the aurora borealis.

“Your curse ensures the mambo’s privacy, gal.”

Ingrid felt the voice rather than heard it, as though it emanated from inside her head instead of from the wispy lips of the apparition.

“Ma’man Brigit?” Ingrid asked. Although the loa had answered prayers before, this was the first time she’d seen her.

The woman nodded then drew closer, bending so her face was inches from Ingrid’s. “Hmmm… The night creature’s blood is mo’ hindrance here than help, I think, li’l witch. It makes you proud.”

Ingrid swallowed an instinctive bitchy vampire retort, then offered, “I need your help, Ma’man.”

“So direct. So rude.” The loa tsked. “This be my realm you entered, my help you be seekin’. What you bring fo’ me?”

New on Pre-order!

Harvest Moon
Beaux Rêve Coven, Book 4
Coming October 22nd!

In Jefferson Parish, deep in the bayou, is a place called Bonne Nuit. Off the beaten path, isolated by swamp and connected to the sea, there the Beaux Rêve Coven thrives.

Five witches… Too many demons to count…

Radha’s sister witches become concerned when her health begins to fail. Her sleep is never restful, but they are unable to pinpoint what is wrong. Khan, a jinn who’s been tasked to serve as her guardian, has watched her restless sleep and believes he knows the answer. Her dreams are haunted by a Mare set on draining life from the witch who imbues the fabrics she weaves with magick.

As much as ancient jinn Khan loathes the idea, he seeks an old enemy, a Vanir, whose magic allows him to enter Radha’s nightmares to slay the Mare, an enemy bent on taking advantage Radha’s vulnerability to make her his own.

Pre-order your copy here!

First, I’d like to congratulate Delilah and the authors contributing to her anthology Stranded, which releases on April 30. It looks like another great collection. I can’t wait to read it.

It is my pleasure to reveal the cover for our upcoming anthology!!!

A Darker Shade of Evil is a compilation of urban fantasy and paranormal romances which include demons or the devil. The heat level is steamy to erotic. Ten USA Today, International Best Sellers and award-winning authors offer you wild and wicked tales to fire your imagination. These stories will lure you into danger and darkness, where sometimes the hunter may become the hunted, but Happily Ever After can also be found.

Thank you so much for including this short post today. I hope to return soon with more information about A Darker Shade of Evil and my story, Siren Descending.

Katherine
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Maybe you only know me as a writer of action-adventure/military heroes/cowboys — Uncharted SEALs, Montana Bounty Hunters, Texas Cowboys, etc. — but I also write paranormal romances. They are, in fact, what I love writing most. I began with my Night Fall vamps and weres, moved on the write more vamps, weres, and ancient demigods in the Dark Realm series, and have written witches coupled with various forms of shapeshifters for my Beaux Rêve Coven series, but the two stories I feel are my best in the genre are my Caitlyn O’Connell stories, Shattered Souls and Lost Souls.

Today, I’m introducing you to Lost Souls. Here’s what it’s about…

Private Investigator Caitlyn O’Connell is tapped by Memphis PD to discover who has been using a Memphis hotel as his killing ground. Women are going missing, and their bodies are found inside the walls of the hotel. But the bodies themselves? They appear to have been murdered in the distant past. With ghosthunters and cops crawling all over the crime scene, Cait and her detective ex-husband Sam Pierce race to find the demon responsible before he kills again.

Now, that doesn’t even begin to describe a book that delivers one of the biggest shocks I’ve ever written. Enjoy the excerpt below!

Comment for a chance to win a download of one of my
Caitlyn O’Connell stories!

Darkness sank as murky as the sultry summer air, as heavy as a blanket pulled over a child’s head to hide the monsters lurking in a shadowy closet. Street lamps popped and sizzled, darkening then lightening, but failing to flare bright enough or long enough to chase away deep pockets of inky black. Cait was creeped out, since all she had were glimpses of silvery light from a full moon rimming buildings and casting deeper shadows to cloak alleyways and doorway stoops.

Another full moon. An event she was acutely aware encouraged monsters, both human and supernatural, to come out and play. Edgy and beyond bored, she almost wished for something out of the ordinary to happen, but then quickly changed her mind. The last time her job had given her a real challenge she’d battled a demon in an attic while a wraith latched its freezing fingertips around the man sitting beside her, slapping him around like a rag doll.

For just a second, she relished that last memory. At least Jason had been awake.

For the umpteen thousandth time that night, Caitlyn O’Connell sighed. This time exaggerating the sound. Loudly. Actually, more of a groan than a sigh. A sound that invited Jason Crawford, lying back in the seat beside hers, to wake up and keep her company. She was bored as freaking shit. Surveillance was the one part of her job she truly hated. In fact, she thought she might like having her ingrown toenails cut better than sitting in a dark alley waiting for something to happen.

The weather irritated her even more. Although she’d stripped down to a tank top and jeans, the insides of her boots were damp from the oppressive summer heat. Not a trace of a breeze stirred, and they’d shut off the sedan’s engine to be able to hear vehicles approaching, so the AC sat silent.

What good was having magic if she couldn’t even muster up a spell to start a breeze? She’d tried waving, punching, wiggling her nose, but nada. Worse, she’d tried to come up with a poem to appease The Powers That Be, but hadn’t found a line that sounded even remotely elegant with “wheeze” tacked on the end.

She supposed she’d used up her last favor asking for intervention with Worthen’s monstrosity, the Civil War–era demon resurrected in his tomb, for which she’d had to beg The Powers and a certain sorcerer for help defeating. Or perhaps they didn’t like how she’d ignored Morin since she’d fought the demon and won. Whatever. She was a PI, not a witch. And right now, she had a job to do.

So why couldn’t she and Jason be watching the Peabody Hotel? Or any of the nicer hotels in the downtown area? The Deluxe Hotel was anything but deluxe. The marquee above the entrance was missing a few letters and read, DELUXE HO, which on second thought appeared apropos for the sleazy dive.

The whole area had an aura of neglect. Trash overfilled bins and cluttered the gutters. Worse, a small tattered sign was taped to the hotel’s glass door: AA MEETING, 9 PM SATURDAY.

Mocking her. The very thing her ex-husband, and now sometimes boyfriend, had been nagging her to locate.

And worse yet, the car she sat in reeked of stale onion-and-anchovy pizza. If she didn’t know him better, she might have thought her partner had ordered it on purpose. But he’d munched away happily, while she’d chosen to drag in the scents from the overfilled bin they’d parked beside. Better unknown trash than fishy-smelling onion breath.

Her cheeks billowed around another harsh exhalation. How the hell could Jason sleep through all the noise she’d been making? She aimed a scowl his way, caught the quick lowering of his eyelids and a twitch at the side of his lips.

She gave a grunt and turned back to watch the entrance of the seedy old hotel where Mrs. Oscar Reyes was scheduled to meet up with her boy-toy. Or so Mr. Reyes had informed them this morning after hacking into his wife’s Facebook account.

“Get me pictures of the bitch,” he’d said, clearing his throat when Cait had given him a narrow-eyed glare. “I won’ believe it ’til I see.”

She’d eyed his oily hair, brushy mustache, and stocky frame and wondered why he was so surprised his wife had sought the attention of a lover who called her his “mariposa rubia.”

“Blonde butterfly,” Jason had translated under his breath since Cait’s Spanish was limited to curses.

Oscar Reyes was the typical slimy client they attracted—spouses seeking ammunition for divorce court, employers wanting an employee followed for proof they hadn’t been injured badly enough to warrant workmen’s comp.

Since Oscar had already done the legwork and found cyberproof of his wife’s infidelity, Cait wondered why the hell he’d hired them to snap the shots. A $500 retainer plus their hourly fee would rack up quite a bill in no time. But she’d refrained from asking him.

The nice fat check they’d gotten from the Memphis PD for helping find her first partner’s killer and three young women who’d been kidnapped by a demon hadn’t lasted long. So she and Jason were back hustling for smaller fish.

Which reminded her again of the half-eaten pizza in the backseat.

Ready to pitch the box into the trash bin, she paused when headlights flared as a car turned onto South Front Street. A low-slung sedan stopped in front of the hotel.

Cait waited for the beams to extinguish, and then raised her camera with its night-vision lens and took a look. Just as Oscar had predicted, Sylvia Reyes stepped out of the car, her bleached-blonde hair neon bright in the viewfinder. She wore an ass-hugging mini-skirt, four-inch heels, and a top that rode the curves of her full breasts.

Cait clicked off a couple of shots of the woman entering the hotel, then reached out and backhanded Jason’s belly. “Time to move.”

“Mmm, wha’?” he said, pretending to waken from a deep sleep.

She rolled her eyes. “Like you’ve been sleeping? It’s Reyes’s wife. Let’s follow and see if we can catch her with her boyfriend.”

“Sound grumpy.” Jason flashed her a smile. “The anchovies gettin’ to you?”

She shrugged, pretending the stench hadn’t made her slightly nauseous. “It’s your car. The smell’ll be here for a week.”

With quiet moves, they opened their doors. Cait quickly replaced the special lens and hung the camera on her shoulder before jogging to the entrance. She pushed through the grimy glass, lifted her head in a vague nod to the clerk at the reception desk, and walked to the elevators, eying the red digital numbers above the doors. There were two elevators. Only one was moving, and it stopped and held at floor three.

She elbowed past two men and a woman laden with cameras and equipment bags. One held out a device Cait thought might be a light meter, but she changed her mind when a red light beeped on the top and it clicked like a Geiger counter.

“Do you see that?” the chubby man with a Fu Manchu said, elbowing the skinny dude beside him. “We’ve got something here.”

“Told you there’s lots of activity in this old place.”

Activity? She eyed them again, read the logo on their bags, and rolled her eyes. REEL PIS: PARANORMAL INVESTIGATORS. As if. She stuck her finger in the elevator button, doing her best to ignore the morons. She hadn’t heard so much as a whisper or a wail since she’d entered the hotel.

“Faster goin’ up the stairs,” Jason said, pulling her arm with one hand and pointing toward the stairway door. He flipped the door handle and pushed through. “After you,” he said with a flourish of his hand. His grin said he knew how much she disliked racing up three flights.

She gave him the stink-eye and started the climb. When she reached the third-floor landing, she glanced through the door’s rectangular window, saw no one in the hallway, and opened the door.

The corridor smelled as bad as it looked—urine to complement the yellowed beige walls, mildew to enhance the brown-and-green plaid carpet.

Gasping to catch her breath, she looked left, then right, and caught a flash of impossibly blonde hair a moment before Sylvia Reyes turned the corner farther down the hallway. Cait hurried after her, on the scent of a woman about to cheat on her husband. She turned the corner, entering a hallway marked by a door frame for a double door that no longer existed. The corridor was empty. No room doors along the short hall closed to indicate where their target had gone.

Jason drew up beside her, his eyebrows rising. “What now? Listen for moaning?”

Giving him a shove, she took a step past the hallway door frame, and then halted, some instinct keeping her from pushing forward. Or maybe what stopped her was the yellow police tape covering one of the doors. Not something she had time to ponder right that moment because a strange hum sounded. A bulb popped, plunging the hallway into darkness. The hairs on her arms lifted a second before electricity arced from a light switch, sending out a bolt like lightning that shot toward the ceiling, then turned, traveling toward her, hitting doorways as though searching for ground. The jagged dagger of electricity darted, then blinked out, but not before she saw a figure, one in four-inch hot pink heels, her eyes rounding in terror—a figure she could see straight through to the piss-yellow wall behind her.

Darkness took the figure. Then another hissing arc flared from the light switch, brightening the hallway again. Sylvia Reyes was gone.

Jason grabbed her arm, pulled her back around the corner, and flattened her against the wall with an elbow digging into her belly.

The white bolt flickered past the corner, then dove to the floor, sparking out with a fizzle.

“Bad wiring?” he whispered.

She shook her head, shoved away his elbow, and stepped into the hall again. The faint smell of something burning lingered in the air. The hall was once again empty. And dark.

Cait held still, listening, and then she heard the sound. A soft wail. Like a distant echo. “Hear that?” she whispered.

“No. What do you hear?”

She swallowed. “Not anyone living.”

Then the faint sound of whispers rose, maybe half a dozen voices joining in chorus. Her hand dropped to the camera at her side. She flipped off the lens cap, raised the camera, and looked through the viewfinder. Nothing out of the ordinary, other than a really sleazy flophouse. Still, she clicked off a couple of shots. “Let’s go.”

“Don’t want to wait around until she leaves? A shot of the lady kissing her boyfriend good-bye would close this case.”

Cait shook her head, not wanting to voice what she suspected. Not before she was sure of exactly what she’d seen. “No. Let’s get back to the office. I have to look at something.”

Jason knew her well enough not to ask any more questions. The fact she was cutting the surveillance short told him they had a problem.

This time they took the elevator. The sooner she got out of here the better. Well, she’d gotten what she’d wished for. Something out of the ordinary had definitely happened.

Back at the Delta Detective Agency, Cait slipped the memory card from her camera into the slot in her computer. With a couple of clicks, she found the file of pictures and opened it.

There was Sylvia Reyes outside the Deluxe, her small cat-like features coated in too much makeup, her coarse blonde hair flattened to rest limply on her shoulders. Her expression was furtive, but excitement sparkled in her dark eyes. Another shot caught her too-tight skirt hugging her J-Lo butt. Then Cait clicked on the last two shots, unsure what she might see inside the third-floor hallway. Maybe nothing. Maybe something she didn’t want to see.

The shot showed an empty hallway. The photo was blurred, but the differences between the hall’s actual appearance and what was on the computer screen was startling. Gone were the yellowed walls and crappy brown and green carpet. In its place was wallpaper—a foiled gold-and-wine-colored paisley. The carpet was a solid blood red. The fixtures—lights, switches, brass plates on the door—were shiny and new.

“Where’d you take that?” Jason asked, hovering at her shoulder.

“At the Deluxe,” she said, closing out the file. She suppressed a shiver of dread.

“No kiddin’? How come I didn’t see that?”

She didn’t dare look his way. He’d see her shock and ask more questions. Questions she didn’t have any quick answers for.

“Tacky as hell, but—”

She gave a sharp shake of her head. “That’s not the way it is.” At last, she shot an upward glance.

Jason pushed out his lips. His gaze settled on her, waiting.

She knew he wouldn’t let her up from the chair until she gave him at least a clue of what was going on in her head. “It’s the way the hotel was.”

His gaze narrowed. “What do you mean?”

She rubbed a hand over her face. “I don’t know what I mean.”

A frown dug a line between his blond-brown brows. “I don’t think Reyes is going to pay us for those shots or our time since we didn’t get what he wanted.”

“Reyes is the least of our problems,” she muttered.

Jason groaned. “It was the anchovies, right? This is your revenge?”

Her mouth tipped up into a smirk. “You think this is all about you? Poor little rich boy.”

He shook his head, grinning, but the fine lines beside his hazel eyes deepened with worry. “Since this case looks like major woo-woo is involved, you have the lead. Where to first?”

Cait grimaced. Once again, she had no doubt they were headed straight down the rabbit’s hole. “I need to talk to Sam about that taped-off room.”

It took me a day or two longer, wrestling with Amazon, to get Lockdown released! But it’s here! If you love a naughty paranormal with a touch of horror (promise it’s not too much!) and a dose of ménage (verra, verra sexy!), this one’s for you! If you’d like to read an excerpt, check out this previous post! And yes, the contest is still open, so be sure to enter! Pre-order Woes… (Contest)

Lockdown

After surviving an attack by a prisoner, corrections officer Gillian Priest arrives at her new unit, determined not to ever let her guard down again. Things get complicated when a handsome new prisoner enters her dreams and seduces her. When fellow officer Billy Hedron makes a pass, she’s already primed, ready to ease the arousal her sexy dreams have left with a more appropriate mate.

Billy Hedron knows his old Marine buddy Gabriel Vlahos is posing as a prisoner to find a demon within the prison walls, and who better to hunt one than an incubus? When his buddy seduces Gillian in her dreams, Billy stands ready to serve the needs his friend stirs up in the attractive woman. But things take a deadly turn when the demon they seek decides it’s time to take them all to hell.

FREE to KU Subscribers!
Get your copy here!

If you missed the first story…

When police officer Sinead O’Rourke returns to duty months after being shot in an incident that claimed her partner, she knows it’s not going to be easy. Despite being cleared of any negligence, her fellow officers still wonder whether she’s responsible for his death. One more problem is that everyone knows she claims to have seen his ghost. After months of rehabilitation and lying like hell about the fact she’s not seeing spooks anymore, Sin’s determined to get back into the saddle.

Jake Chappa doesn’t want to partner with Sin. Been there, done that–couldn’t keep his hands off her the first time around. She’s too much of a distraction, and her penchant for rushing into trouble scares the heck out of him. Despite wishing she’d quit her job, he’s still deeply attracted. When an armed robbery goes down and something happens that rattles Sin to the core, he’s right there–ready to cover her back and her sweet body.

FREE to KU Subscribers!
Get your copy here!

Contest

Win a $5 Amazon gift card! All you have to do is tell me whether you’re reading this blog on your phone, desktop, or laptop!

*~*~*

Okay, so the cover is interesting. Not great, but you’d never guess how hard it is to find sexy “prison” photos. Lockdown is the second in the Veiled Alliance series, and is a re-release, but I’m betting hardly anyone has read it, am I right?

I’ll be uploading it into Amazon tomorrow, because I want to make sure it’s available on Tuesday, its official release date. I would have set it up for you to pre-order a long time ago, but alas, I’ve lost my pre-order rights until September of next year. Yeah, makes me cry. Things like having your dad fall and break his hip and have to have surgery in a far-flung place, and then going to rehab, all of which puts a huge dent in a writer’s writing schedule, aren’t good enough excuses. Especially after I had to slide a release date earlier this year due to my grandmother’s death. I’m thinking Amazon considers that a “the dog ate my homework” kind of excuse. So, I lost my privilege.

Which causes all kinds of difficulties for an author when she’s trying to get the word out. Everything waits until release date. Still, I figure you might want to know whether this is something you should mark on your calendar to get. So, do you like paranormal stories? Like a bit of horror thrown in? Love uber-sexy scenes, some threesomes, with human and otherkin partners? Well, maybe, just maybe, you’ll want to mark down this one. TUESDAY, folks! If not sooner. 🙂

Here’s a snippet…

After surviving an attack by a prisoner, corrections officer Gillian Priest arrives at her new unit, determined not to ever let her guard down again. Things get complicated when a handsome new prisoner enters her dreams and seduces her. When fellow officer Billy Hedron makes a pass, she’s already primed, ready to ease the arousal her sexy dreams have left with a more appropriate mate.

Billy Hedron knows his old Marine buddy Gabriel Vlahos is posing as a prisoner to find a demon within the prison walls, and who better to hunt one than an incubus? When his buddy seduces Gillian in her dreams, Billy stands ready to serve the needs his friend stirs up in the attractive woman. But things take a deadly turn when the demon they seek decides it’s time to take them all to hell.

Gillian blinked when he first appeared. She’d been sitting on the porch of her family’s cabin at Canyon Lake, Texas on a hot summer’s day. Nothing to think about except how much she missed this place.

Only she’d been alone. Her sister didn’t play on the edge of the water. Her brother wasn’t casting a line into the water, hoping to catch supper. Her mother and father weren’t in the hammocks strung beneath the live oaks, laughing softly to themselves.

And yet, she’d felt peaceful.

What the hell was Vlahos doing in her dream? He stood at the bottom of the steps. His smile was slow.

“It’s not fair you look so damn good,” she groused. God, had she just said that out loud?

“It’s a dream,” he said, climbing the porch steps. “No place for secrets here.” He turned toward the lake, his gaze scanning his surroundings.

“It’s nice.”

He didn’t belong here. Not in her special place. “I don’t want you here. You’re strictly off limits.”

He unbuttoned his coverall and pushed it down his legs. The boxers beneath quickly followed.

Gillian’s chest lifted around a swift gasp. His body was perfectly formed—broad shoulders, lean abdomen, chiseled cuts bisecting the muscle layered down his belly in perfect rows. His cock was gorgeous as well. Long and straight with a pretty tapered crown. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“Getting comfortable. Preparing to give you what we both need.”

“I don’t need to see you naked,” she said huffily.

“Then close your eyes.”

“As if. You’re a murderer.”

His lips curled in that feline smile of his. “Things aren’t always what they seem. And this is only a dream.”

“I suppose you’re innocent,” she said, her voice catching.

His head canted, and he sat on the wooden step beside her. “That didn’t sound like sarcasm. That was pain.”

She shook her head. “It’s none of your goddamn business.”

“And I don’t really have the time. But hold that thought. Pain works for me, too.”

“What are you talking about?” she said, growing alarmed at his mention of pain.

He turned suddenly, his hands coming down on either side of her, his body rising over hers and pressing her to the porch floor.
Her hands came up between them. “Get off me.”

“Do you really want me to? Don’t you want to see whether you can orgasm inside a dream? Have you done it before?”

“I usually wake up,” she said, then groaned at admitting something so personal.

“What if I promise it won’t happen this time.”

“You’re still a goddamn convict. I shouldn’t be with you, even if this is just a dream. I don’t want you in my head.”

“Then find someone else to fuck when you’re awake. Right now, I need you every bit as much as you need this. So, just shut up.”

His lips slammed into hers, grinding the soft tissue inside against her teeth. She tasted blood.

Some dream.

But that was all it was. A dream. She could do this. Follow it wherever it led, and no one would ever know.

“That’s right,” he said, lifting his mouth from hers. “Just you and me.”

Gillian looked up at him, at the need stretching his skin tautly across his sharp cheekbones and lending a harsh edge to his solid jaw. At the tension in his shoulders and arms as he held himself. Waiting.

For her to accept this? For her to give him permission to proceed. “I don’t like that you can see inside my mind.”

“I won’t do anything you don’t want,” he said softly. “From here on out.”

“Why do you need this so badly?”

“I feel your hunger, your loneliness—your pain. I don’t know where it comes from, but I need it to fill me.”

“Why?”

“Because I need emotion to sustain me. Bad times are coming. I have to be strong.”

“What about me, and what I need?” she whispered harshly. “This is my dream, my body, you’re getting ready to take.”

“You’ve already thought ahead to what will happen?”

“I know I want to you to fuck me. See if it’s possible to do what you said.”

“Come inside your dream?”

She almost smiled as his lips curled, lending his hard features a surprisingly whimsical expression.

“Tomorrow,” he said, leaning down to press a quick kiss to her forehead, “you’ll watch me and feel a little nostalgic, a little sad that this didn’t really happen.”

“Tomorrow, when I watch you shower,” she bit out, “I’ll probably be disappointed that I didn’t get the details right.”

His eyebrows lifted. “And maybe you won’t.”

Needing to erect an emotional barrier between them, she lifted her chin. “I have my eye on another man. Someone more suitable.”

“Hedron?”

She wasn’t surprised this time that he’d guessed so accurately. He was just an extension of her subconscious after all. “Yes. And he’s built like a goddamn bull.”

One side of his mouth quirked upward. “Trying to make me jealous?”

“Is it working?”

“Yes. Now, shut up.” His hands gripped the edges of her sleeveless cotton blouse and ripped it open.

She jerked against him but stopped trying to fight him. When his hands tugged her shorts down her hips, and the lacy scrap that passed for underwear with it, she mewled.

Then he was on her, inside her, shoving his perfect cock deep. She was already hurtling high and hoping like hell the phone wouldn’t ring and pull her away, because she thought that just maybe he’d do it. Bring her body to orgasm.

But suddenly, something else started to happen inside her. Something that sucked away her breath, her will, left her quivering and shaken because she couldn’t break free of the grip of whatever it was thrusting straight inside her chest and mind. But the pressure in her chest couldn’t compete with his luscious assault further down her body.

*~*~*

And if you haven’t read the first story, check it out!

When police officer Sinead O’Rourke returns to duty months after being shot in an incident that claimed her partner, she knows it’s not going to be easy. Despite being cleared of any negligence, her fellow officers still wonder whether she’s responsible for his death. One more problem is that everyone knows she claims to have seen his ghost. After months of rehabilitation and lying like hell about the fact she’s not seeing spooks anymore, Sin’s determined to get back into the saddle.

Jake Chappa doesn’t want to partner with Sin. Been there, done that–couldn’t keep his hands off her the first time around. She’s too much of a distraction, and her penchant for rushing into trouble scares the heck out of him. Despite wishing she’d quit her job, he’s still deeply attracted. When an armed robbery goes down and something happens that rattles Sin to the core, he’s right there–ready to cover her back and her sweet body.

Get your copy here!

Bryn and Ethan’s story is here! I hope you’ll snap it up and sink deep into the sexy goin’s on inside the sleepy little bayou town of Bonne Nuit! The series has everything I love—witches, hawt as hell demons, one of my favorite American places (the Louisiana bayous), and, of course, hot sexy times. And there’s magic in every scene.

Once in a Blue Moon is the first of five stories. The first two are written. Under a Blood Moon is coming next month and features creatures of the sea. After that, well, you’ll have to wait and see, but the next story will include wolves… 🙂 Each of the five witches in this small coven represents a different Element: Earth, Water, Fire, Air, Spirit. And they have a host of demons wooing and stalking them, because in my world, witches are precious, the keys to power.

In Jefferson Parish, deep in the bayou, is a place called Bonne Nuit. Off the beaten path, isolated by swamp and connected to the sea, there the Beaux Rêve Coven thrives. Five witches… Too many demons to count…

Bryn Cavanaugh and her coven like that the community they live in is isolated thanks to a storm that destroyed the bridge between them and the outside world. Now the state wants the bridge rebuilt. When the construction crew checks into the inn, Bryn begins to suspect something about the crew’s boss isn’t quite…human.

Bridges are Ethan Thorne’s thing—after all, he’s a troll—so building a simple span over a remote canal in backwater Louisiana shouldn’t be this much of a problem. When he follows the pretty little innkeeper to a midnight rendezvous, he discovers why his crew keeps running in to trouble. Bryn and her coven are casting spells in the moonlight.

As a troll, Ethan feels the sting of his low place in demon hierarchy. But finding an unprotected coven of witches in the middle of the bayou could lead to all sorts of adventure. And it’s better to keep your enemies close…

Get your copy here!

And coming soon!

 

One demon lights her fire. It’ll take three to cool her down.

Now that the battle dust has settled and the witches have won their freedom, Miren Lynch is going stir crazy. Sure, her three demon bodyguards are hot—especially Renner Neilsen—but having them constantly underfoot and ordering her around is about to drive her insane.

One kiss proves the attraction between her and Renner is mutual, but when the sea draugr slips into her dreams, he ignites a fire only three demons can quench.

To Renner, it makes perfect sense for Miren to choose him for her mate. They share the same element—water. They’re both wildly attracted. But once he sneaks into her dream to seduce her, she doesn’t trust his promise he won’t abuse the power a witch brings to a mate.

His solution? Show her he will provide everything she needs for her wellbeing—from mind-blowing pleasure to her treasured freedom—even if it means sharing her with a pair of handsome and lusty mermen twins.

Pre-order your copy here!

Romance authors love to write about falling in love. The rush of newness, the promise of passion and happily ever after, and the exhilarating but sometimes frustrating “getting to know each other” phase are aspects most romance readers love to hear about. Today, I don’t want to talk about any of those. I want to talk about how people in love…stay in love.

It’s hard to keep the romance alive in our busy worlds. We have obligations to work, kids, friends, and our community. What we often forget is we also have a responsibility to the person we love. This is especially important when the world seems out to get us. No matter how good our life is, bad stuff happens. We can’t stop it all. We deal with it, right? It’s how we face our challenges that sometimes gets us in trouble with our partners, but those with a solid base built on love have the best chance of surviving. Yeah, basic. Sometimes that’s easier said than done.

Arawn and Minerva, the characters in Hunter Sacrificed, face those same struggles, only on a more divine and far-reaching level. Their love is challenged, and the Wild Hunt series is their story. It begins and ends with their epic tale of love, betrayal, forgiveness and hope. (And you get to step into their journey for free! Read on for the links.)

For the rest of us, our relationship hardships can be lessened if we take the time to keep love alive. It doesn’t need to be a huge undertaking every day. Little things matter. Here’s my list of the top three ways my husband and I remind each other that we’re in life together:

1. Taking a few minutes every day to talk about something outside of the three big ones: work, family and money. For the hubby and I, this can be anything from science (yes, we’re both geeks) to the newest action movie.
2. Silly, random texts. We might not be able to respond, but it’s nice to pick up our phones and see each other’s profile pic.
3. Holding each other. Hugs are good for the soul.

So what do you do to express your love? I’d love to hear about your special ways!

Hunter Sacrificed, Wild Hunt book 0.5 Blurb

His vow to save mankind turns him into the father of the damned.

Arawn, Lord of the Underworld, is faced with the hardest decision of his long life. Because of his neglect, humans are suffering…but his vow to make things right could cost him everything he holds dear.

Minerva, the Goddess of Love, holds his heart and soul, but the act he must now commit might very well destroy their love.

His sacrifice doesn’t go far enough to end the humans’ agony. It compounds it—and turns him into a pawn. He cannot renege on his deal with the Triad, but he can avenge those he’s wronged.

To do that, he’ll need every one of his Huntsmen to win the greatest game of all time—the Wild Hunt.

Warning: Goodness and light vs. sacrifice and darkness. Seriously, what could possibly go wrong?

Excerpt #1

Hands clenched at his sides to stop himself from pulling her into his embrace, he motioned toward her with a jerk of his chin. “Turn. I want to see all of you.”

The order he’d given to her all those years ago brought back the memory of their first time together. He embraced the recollection, allowing it to guide him into what might be their final night together.

She raised a brow.

He growled. “If you have not realized where you are, this is Hell. I rule here, and my commands are to be obeyed immediately. Now, turn.”

With her lower lip caught between her teeth, she dropped her gaze and complied with his demand, slowly spinning on her heel. The ends of her silver hair swayed. A tinkling sound accompanied the move, and the flickering lights from the candles illuminating the room reflected on the strands, making her appear as if she carried her own inner light. The sight entranced him. He allowed the spell she wove to mesmerize him for another moment before shifting his focused stare to her rounded bottom. The ends of her hair caressed her ass cheeks. Soft yet firm, she was made for loving.

Made for me.

She wasn’t. He knew that. It didn’t stop the wonder he experienced in her presence from seizing him.

He closed the distance between them but didn’t touch her. He curled his hands until his nails dug into his palm. Head bent, he buried his nose in the fall of her hair. A deep inhale satisfied his craving for her scent. She smelled of life and goodness.

Everything I am not.

Mouth at her ear, he whispered, “You tempt me, goddess.”

“How? I have not spoken.” She repeated the response she’d given him all those years ago.

Pleased she picked up on his prompting, he captured her earlobe between his teeth and nibbled on her tender flesh until her air escaped on a slow exhale, and her body relaxed against his.

He released her lobe, then pressed his lips to her neck. “You stand before me naked and aroused.”

“You too are naked and aroused, my dark lord. The fact that I am should please you.”

“It does not.”

She turned her head, and her glowing gray eyes filled his vision. “And why not?”

He ran his hand over her hair. His fingers itched with the desire to wrap her shimmering locks around his palm. He dropped his arm.

“You make me want things I shouldn’t.”

Excerpt #2

“Arawn, Lord of the Underworld, it is about time you came.”

The Triad’s voice surrounded Arawn. He cracked his eyelids, but only the endless expanse of white clouds greeted him. “You’ve been expecting me?”

Why he asked, he didn’t know. The answer seemed important, however. Doubt had hovered in his mind ever since Minerva had first appeared to him. Learning about her deal with Lucifer had compounded it. Arawn couldn’t help but feel…played.

“Not played. Led.” The Triad responded to his unspoken thought, proving it could easily read Arawn’s mind.

The deity’s intrusion didn’t anger him. Its words did. Arawn remembered the games among the other gods in the early days of the world. He’d hated it. The isolation of the Underworld had been part of the reason he’d accepted the role he’d been offered. The segregation from the heavens hadn’t offered him peace, however.

He’d entered his eternal hell.

And Minerva saved me from it.

Arawn ground his jaw. “Manipulated, you mean.”

“No. You cannot be controlled. Even the gods have free will.”

“But you can take all my choices away save one, can’t you?”

Silence answered him.

“Well?” He knew better than to argue with the Triad. The tortured look in Minerva’s eyes pushed him to demand the truth.

“You always have two choices, Arawn god of Hell.”

Of course I do. He worked his jaw back and forth. “The right one and the wrong one.”

“Exactly. Which have you chosen?”

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A little about Nancy…

A true romantic at heart, Nancy Corrigan is convinced there’s a knight in shining armor for every woman (or man), but you won’t find damsels in distress in her stories. She adores pairing alpha heroes with women strong enough to match them and bring them to their knees. She also enjoys flipping the traditional roles in romances because her motto is—love and people should never be forced to conform to anyone’s norm.

She holds a degree in chemistry and has worked in research but now focuses on ensuring quality. She considers it the perfect outlet for her as she’s the first to admit she has some OCD tendencies. It carries over into her writing life too. While engrossed in a novel, she has a habit of forgetting to eat and sleep. Fortunately, she’s married to her own knight in shining armor who understands her oddities and loves her anyway. They reside in Pennsylvania with their three children, dog, snake and guinea pigs. Her other interests include tattoos, animals, classic cars and all things spooky and sexy.