Hi, I’m Melanie Jayne, romance writer, punctuation rules hater, and human servant to two mastiffs. When I’m not filling food bowls or throwing the Kong, I’m usually thinking about writing: story ideas, things to do, and awesome phrases seem to pop into my head all of the time.

When I was washing the dog bowls earlier today, I started to think about secondary characters in some of my favorite books. You know the best friend, the smart butler, and the ever put upon secretary. Then I took that a step farther and thought about which of my friends would make good secondary characters and how they would influence my heroine?

There is Anna who sounds like she smokes six packs of cigarettes a day and raised six kids. She has seen it all and nothing surprises her. Definitely a possibility because she would be unflappable and a mature voice of reason.

Melanie is the all-around most intelligent person that I have ever met. She knows a little bit about everything. The perfect go to partner when my heroine wants to do something sneaky or for business advice.

Jeff is one of the best dressed men in my city and can tell a fantastic story. He is the perfect person to invite out when you need to have fun or when you need an opinion about what to wear. What woman doesn’t need this kind of friend?

Lastly, but definitely not least, there is David. Complicated, intelligent, and loyal. He would be the heroine’s choice for when she needed a shoulder to cry on or someone to bail her out of a jam. He is a definite possibility to get his own book.

So as I finished drying the food bowl, I realized how lucky I am to be surrounded by such great people. I can depend on them and they add to the richness of my life, plus as a writer they give me great ideas.

Please check out my writing, which features older characters “Because Love Doesn’t Stop at 35.”

www.ReadMelanieJayne.com
https://www.facebook.com/ReadMelanieJayne
https://www.facebook.com/MelanieJayneauthor/?fref=ts
Twitter– @MJSmut

To Purchase You Only- http://amzn.to/2j0LghI

My name is Stefan Wyemore and I’m the High Alpha of the Northwest Territories. If I could snort here, I would. That sounds so high-and-mighty. What it really means is that I get to listen to every complaint and gripe everyone in the northwestern area has and figure out how to make shifters of all sorts, covens and hybrids live together in peace. It’s a nasty job, but my folks thought I was up to the job. They’re technically the leaders, but they live in Florida with the packs and prides there and ceded this place to me. Gee, thanks, folks.

Don’t get me wrong. I love it here. The mountains are incredible. We don’t have anything like that in Florida, that’s for sure. And if I hadn’t had this job, I wouldn’t have met Mali, my mate and the woman I can’t imagine life without. Though it wasn’t easy convincing her.

Mali is an amazing woman. She’s a hybrid, like me, someone who can both shift and do magic. Fortunately, we’re both feline shifters, which makes our bond even stronger. I knew as soon as I met her that we were mates, but it took a little longer for her to accept it. She’s been through a lot in her life. I can’t imagine never belonging somewhere. My folks and where I grew up were so accepting of everyone. But here, it’s not quite as open. In fact, I had to take out four betas who were lording it over their packs like they were gods or something. They quickly learned I don’t go for that. Yes, I’m an alpha and my word is law, but laws have to be tempered with compassion and acceptance. And theirs weren’t. I will not allow bigotry to spread in my packs and prides. We are all shifters. It doesn’t matter if we’re feline, canine, bovine, or something else. Shifters are shifters. And mage-shifters are even better.

That’s what Mali and I are—mage-shifters. Not only do we shift, but we can do magic. My affinity is with the elements while hers is with healing. Because of what we are, maybe others will learn what acceptance is.

Anyway, Lion’s Choice is our story. Or rather, a part of our story. It’s about how Malena and I met and how we became mates. It’s got shifters and witches, yes, but don’t be surprised if a ghost or two shows up too. My grandmother likes to interfere in my life, even if she’s not still around. Sigh. Like I said, the life of the High Alpha is not an easy one, but with Mali at my side, I can tackle anything.

Lion’s Choice

Stefan the Black, alpha of the northwestern territories, needs a strong mate. It’s the only way the prides and packs will continue to follow him, but he hasn’t found the right one yet. Then Dr. Malena Troutman literally runs into him and he and his beast know that she is the one.

The problem is convincing her.

Malena wants nothing to do with prides or packs. As a half-breed—part witch, part shifter—she’s been shunned by both shifters and witches alike. But her beast wants Stefan, and so does the human part of her. Still, can she trust him not to turn her away, especially once he learns her secret?

But Stefan has more than a few secrets of his own, not the least of which is… he’s also got magic running through his blood. It’s up to him to convince the packs and prides that their prejudices are hurting the prides. Ruling a large area of multiple packs and prides takes a lot of balancing—funds, people, emergencies, and more. But with Malena by his side, Stefan turns things around and both beasts find contentment.

EXCERPT:
“Is there a problem?”

Malena looked up—something that didn’t happen too often—to find a man with raven hair and eyes the color of deep sapphires looking down at her. She immediately recognized him. She could never forget that face or his scent. Her lion grew restless, and Mali fought to stay in control. He wore cut-off jean shorts and a deep blue tee, exposing impressive muscles, but not body-builder bulk. These were the lean, long ones of a lethal animal.

“Oh! Alpha Stefan, it’s nothing. Just a computer mix-up with Miss Troutman’s reservation. I’m sure we can find someone who will take her in.”

Alpha Stefan? Damn. Of course he would be the alpha. “That’s Doctor Troutman, and I’d rather not be crammed into someone’s family room with screaming kids running all around.” Mali let a little of her irritation show in her voice.

“What about a separate bedroom with a private bath and no screaming kids?”

She hesitated the briefest of seconds before nodding. She wondered if he had orchestrated this glitch, along with the invitation. “That’s what I was hoping for.”

Not only did her lioness approve, but so did the witch side of her. That in itself was odd enough for her to pay attention.

“Where are your bags, Doctor Troutman?” He smiled at her, a grin of both invitation and consideration.

“Just this.” She indicated a regulation-sized pull-along. “The rest are still in my truck, though I have no idea where that is at the moment.”

“In the parking area. I can have one of the valets retrieve your things for you if you wish.”

“Thank you. They’re rather important, and some need to be handled with care. I’m teaching a class here tomorrow. If you could show me my room, and where my truck might be, I’ll get them myself.” She hesitated. Damn. She’d given orders to the alpha. Could she stuff her foot any further into her mouth? Her face grew warm. “My apologies, Alpha Stefan. If I’d known—”

“If you’d known, I think you would still need to handle your bags with care. Shall we?” He offered his arm and took her bag in one hand.

“I can carry that myself,” she said, not wanting to put the alpha out any more than she already had.

“I’m sure you can. I was merely being polite.”

She blew out a sigh and took his arm. “Thank you, Alpha Stefan. I appreciate the help. So where is this room I can have?”

He stepped into the elevator and punched the button for the fifth floor. “My apartment.”

***

Stefan enjoyed the look of pure shock on the woman’s face. As soon as he’d told her where they were going, she’d dropped her hand and stepped away from him. This was not a woman who used feminine wiles to capture a man. She wanted nothing to do with him. It showed in her stiff shoulders, crossed arms, tight mouth, and narrowed eyes. He kept a neutral look on his face but smiled inwardly. She intrigued him on many levels. He discovered he was actually looking forward to the challenge she offered.

Malena Troutman. The lion within him was practically purring, and so was the man.

Available from Liquid Silver Publishing, Amazon, B&N, and other fine sellers
Where to find me: http://burkholv.wordpress.com
http://thewholeshebangsite.wordpress.com

Enjoy an excerpt from Lindsay McKenna’s latest release, Snowflake’s Gift!

A Delos Series novella

SOMETIMES A CHRISTMAS GIFT DOESN’T COME IN A PACKAGE….IT COMES ON FOUR LEGS….

Snow was coming down hard in town as Nick drove the van toward the shut-in area at four p.m. The smell of spaghetti and buttered, garlic toast filled the vehicle. Myra had made sweet potato cupcakes for dessert, and he stole one before they left the charity facility. It was nearly Thanksgiving and he was looking forward to taking Holly to his folks place for the afternoon and evening. The wipers were rhythmically swinging back and forth, throwing off the heavy, wet flakes. The roads were salted, but still Nick was wary of invisible black ice. In the late afternoon the heat of the day was gone and things got slick real fast.

“Oh dear,” Holly called, sitting up, pointing out her passenger-side window. “Look, Nick!”

Snowflake, who stood between them, heard the pitch of her voice change, and whined.

Nick slowed and pulled over to the curb, then looked to where she was pointing. There was a yellow Labrador moving awkwardly through the belly deep snow between two brick buildings. Her ribs were prominent even though she had a short, thick winter coat on. “She’s starving,” he muttered, scowling. “It looks like a female Lab. She’s too dainty looking to be a male.”

“She’s terribly thin,” Holly said, worried. “I wonder if someone dumped her—they do that all the time around here. I hate it.”

“No collar on her, either,” Nick agreed. The Lab was about a hundred-feet down the alley between the two buildings, slugging it out with the snow. Nick heard Holly make a little sound of urgency. She had such a big heart, and she hated to see animals or humans suffer.

Nick knew she wanted to get out and try to call the dog over to her. From the looks of the animal, her light-brown eyes wild looking, tongue lolling out of her mouth, her fur matted, he intuitively knew this was a dog that had been left behind a long time ago to fend for herself.

“She’s feral,” he warned Holly. She turned, her huge, blue eyes filled with tears. “She won’t let us near her. I’m sorry.” And he was. It wouldn’t be the first dog dumped here that Nick had found, or that Holly had come upon around the building of one of her shut-ins. They had a no-kill shelter here, and this Lab would have had a warm place to stay, food, and care if they could befriend her.

“Can’t we do something for her, Nick?”

LINKS
BN.com
http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/snowflakes-gift-lindsay-mckenna/1125267515?ean=2940156794072
Amazon.com
https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01N994DJF?ref_=pe_2427780_160035660
Kobo.com
https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/snowflake-s-gift

iBooks/Apple
https://linkmaker.itunes.apple.com/en-us/details/1179641291?country=us&mediaType=books&term=Snowflake%27s+Gift+by+Lindsay+McKenna

Tantor Media Audio:
https://tantor.com/author/lindsay-mckenna.html

Coming to the end of a series is both exciting and sad.  It’s a lot like graduating from school.  I’m excited to move on to new adventures but sad to be leaving old friends behind

The Rose series started when I heard the song KISSED BY A ROSE, sung by Seal.  The words from the chores inspired me.  “I might compare you to a kiss from a rose on the grave.”  I heard those words and had a flash of a grave in winter with its headstone half buried and a blood red rose resting on the snow.  This vision and my background in politics combined to form the foundation for the series.

I have been a staffer for two different congressmen, a campaign consultant for numerous campaigns, and I have substituted for my Representative in the Idaho legislature.  I pulled a lot from my experience to write the political parts of the three books.  The three political issues my characters have to deal with are real and have either been reviewed by interim committees or actually debated in the legislature. The supernatural parts of the story were the most fun to write.  How would a legislator explain that he was being haunted?  It’s not something you want to advertise to your constituents or let your opponents catch wind of.

The hardest part of finishing this series is saying goodbye to characters who have been in my head for years.  I had the idea for these stories for quite some time before I ever sat down to type the first line.  Like many writers I know a lot more about my characters than the parts that made it onto the page.  Not all of a character’s back story fits into the series but it is still information that I as an author need to know in order to create a well-rounded and believable character.  They are like real people to me.  Many Sundays when I sang hymns in church I would check the date of the song, and if it was before 1882, I often wondered if Rose would have sung this one.  At least I have the satisfaction of tying up the loose ends and giving my characters the happy ever after that they all deserved.

Do you every miss characters when you finish reading a book and know there will be no new adventures?

Augustina Van Hoven
Proving Love is Strange

THE KISS OF A ROSE
THE THORN OF A ROSE
THE BLOOM OF A ROSE – Available March 14th

www.augustinavanhoven.com

Facebook:  https://www.facebook.com/pages/Augustina-Van-Hoven-Author/336028986575129
Twitter:  @augustinavhoven
Pinterest: Augustina Van Hoven, Author

The Bloom of a Rose

Rachel Bartlett doesn’t expect to meet the man of her dreams at a funeral.  But a chance conversation with Paul Miller inserts her in a political game between good and evil.  Unfortunately, her political strategist mother has other plans for her, and they don’t include romance.  Paul is the exact wrong guy for her, but sometimes it takes someone from the opposition to show you the way out of the maze.

Paul Miller is fighting battles on multiple fronts, and he doesn’t have time for an infatuation with a liberal graphic artist, no matter how blue her eyes or how sharp her wit.  If his trust is misplaced, then a wrong move loses the game.

What the couple doesn’t know is that they are not alone.  Supernatural beings battle behind the scenes—and humans are all pawns on a chessboard.  The outcome of the game will determine not only what the future might be…but whether or not there even is one.

Available March 14th

“It is only through labor and painful effort, by grim energy and resolute courage, that we move on to better things.”
― Theodore Roosevelt

So I am beginning to ask myself if Indie publishing is a better thing. I am not sure.

I have been writing for a long time. I do have a distinctive voice, and I read across many genres. Fortunately, both of my parents were avid readers and I could read long before I went to school. This kind of thing can really turn you off to education, but I was fortunate, that is not what happened to me.

My Dad used to let me read the newspapers with him, every day. Moreover, I still have an order for reading the newspaper: Horoscope first, comics second, and then the news. My Dad used to tell me, it is a good thing to have a positive outlook, (horoscope first) try to never lose your sense of humor, (comics second) and finally yet importantly, be informed (news).

This might not seem like great advice to give a four year old who is not yet in school, but it was not only great advice, but it served me well most of my adult life. I still read every day, and still read the newspaper in that order.

People often ask me what influences my stories. Those folks who know me well understand I grew up in a large family, in an old Victorian house with an odd reputation. People in my hometown believed it was haunted.

Truth be told, it was.

When my family acquired the house, I was given the back bedroom on the second floor. The house still had gaslights in each room although these lights had not been in use for many years. You see, the house sat vacant for a number of years, and that is probably why people believed it to be haunted.

I did not think much about it at the time, until one night I woke up to the sound of someone opening the door to my room. There was a full moon, and the light streaming in my window allowed the average person to read a newspaper. I knew this because I read every night. Moreover, earlier I used the moonlight to exceed my reading time.

So the knob rattled and turned and a man, youngish—about in his early thirties, stuck his head in the door and surveyed the room. He moved into the room from the hall, and took off his jacket, which he hung in the closet. He closed the closet door, walked past my bed to the window opposite me, and opened it wide. He then climbed out the window and was gone.

The first night I screamed bloody murder, but my mother did not believe me. She said I was dreaming. This happened often over the next few months and finally, I started to pay more attention to the ghostly images.

You see, the room would change with the nightly apparition. Once the visitor finished his trip across my room, things returned to normal. One night my best friend spent the night, and she witnessed what I’d been seeing for several months. Only this time, when the room returned to “normal” the window remained open. I also had a witness.

Keep in mind, as a young girl, I was not likely to share a story my parents told me would make me seem crazy to my friends. But, now . . . my best friend knew exactly what was happening.

Those early encounters, better explained by my Irish grandfather, became more of an adventure than frightening encounters. They happened on and off through the years of adolescence. None was truly frightening or hostile, but when people do not believe you or make you think you are crazy. Well, that is just wrong.

Highly likely you will encounter ghosts in many of my stories. I know how ghosts can catch you off guard, and sometimes frighten you when they only mean to help. Look for ghosts in my next book, The Covenant, about a white witch fresh from college with a brand-new MBA who returns home to revive the family business and learns secrets that may destroy her future.

Better yet, read the two free short stories on my website, http://www.aneryanwalker.com

Sign up for my newsletter for notices of new releases and free short stories.

Waving hello from Florida to Delilah and all who stop by. Glad to be here today.

In the top five questions authors are asked is: “Where do you get your stories?”

For a while when asked this, I quickly said, “the Amazon story store.” I mean, Amazon sells live lady bugs and rents goats, why not sell stories? But alas, I had to stop because too many asked me for the link.

Here’s the real skinny.

Writers are blessed/cursed with wild, vivid imaginations capable of great things. I firmly believe imagination is everything to a writer. Imagining is our super power. It’s a way to preview life’s coming attractions. It’s the ability to change the past in our mind’s eye.

Albert Einstein said, “Imagination is more important than knowledge. Knowledge is limited. Imagination encircles the world.” I’m not going to argue with Al.

Back to the, where do you get stories question. The correct answer is: writers get stories everyplace. Through our senses, into our minds, we ingest the world around us then reshape it all into new images in our imagination.

Recently my imagination was triggered by The Bureau of Land Management seeking volunteers to spend the summer in the middle of nowhere Montana in an abandoned haunted town. Not happening for me, but my mind took me to an abundance of romance possibilities and spooky stuff.

Then there’s the abandoned and boarded up Baker Hotel in Mineral Springs, TX. A big ole empty hotel just sitting there. I imagined a story about a group of mystery writers spending the weekend there and the last sentence of the book, “How would you rate your stay at the Baker Hotel?”

And songs. For me, songs are writing prompts. Take Ray Stevens’ DEAD SKUNK IN THE MIDDLE OF THE ROAD. I immediately thought of a squished ex sprawled across the double yellow line. A hot detective convinced the ex-wife killed the skunk.

Who but an author can admire an ancient oak and imagine couples from every time period falling in love under the spreading branches? Then wonder how many bodies the roots are embracing.

I believe authors are a special breed. Every day we fade into the alternate world of books. Those written by others and the ones we’re writing. We extend our arms, put our fingers to the keyboard and imagination flows, letter by letter, across the screen. We can imagine anything and happily share what we conjure up with the world.

I use my imagination to write the Under Fire series about extraordinary women and the men they love. Military heroines. A Coast Guard helicopter pilot. A Coast Guard admiral. A Marine Corps Intelligence officer. A Federal agent who works closely with Special Ops men. Women at the top of their field in a man’s world. They don’t want a man to take care of them. They want a man who will accept them for who they are and stand shoulder to shoulder with them in their adventures.

Last year my imagination got the best of me and I published Let Me Tell You a Story, a collection of eight twisted and tattered tales from the odd side that will give you giggles and shivers, tears and sighs. It felt amazing to finally free these characters from my mind and put them on the page.

Let Me Tell You a Story

Table of Contents

TEA AND SHISH KABOB
A man recounts a mysterious story of growing up on the Florida coast after WW II.

ARTIFICIAL INTELISEX
A couple embark on a different life style journey.

BEFORE
An ultimate Deja vu tale.

THE TRUNK
A dying woman’s legacy of love and loyalty.

FOG
Three children alone on an island enveloped in fog.

LITTLE BOBBY WILLIS
A billionaire cuts his spoiled son off from technology.

DADDY DEAREST
A woman finds her father after 20 years of searching.

MAYHEM AND HANKY-PANKY AT DEBBIE’S
A totally tongue in cheek behind the scenes look at a salon.

Purchase at Amazon

BTW, I now answer the question, “Where do ideas come from?,” with a huge smile and say, “I imagine every single one of them.”

Where has your imagination taken you today? Or, where has an author’s imagination taken you today?

Rita
Web page http://www.ritahenuber.com/
twitter https://twitter.com/ritahenuber
FB   https://www.facebook.com/RitaHenuberAuthor/

When I wrote At the Mercy of Her Pleasure, I started it with a Fagin-style master thief in mind. His name was Luc Saint-Cyr and he would be the kingpin that everyone feared. Stories would revolve around his students, with him being the glue that held the stories together. In the first book, the two main characters would be brothers, Senth and Khyff Antonello.

After I started writing it, I hit upon the idea of making it a romance. The first would feature the younger brother, Senth, and the sequel would be about Khyff. Each brother would find the heroine he needed.

The Fagin character faded into the background. However, each time I wrote Luc into a scene, my critique group would ask when Luc would get his story. I had no story planned for him at all, so put it out of my mind. Luc had other plans. The more I wrote about him, the more I liked him. He surprised me at every turn, acting like the bad guy in one scene, but the good guy in another. An enigma. I could not figure him out.

I wrote him as I saw him, however, and by the end of the story, I was beginning to think there might be more to him than I thought. As I got to the very end of the story, literally the last page, I saw a huge twist I could throw into the plot that would not only bring Luc into the next book, but also set him up to have his own story.

I wrote it. Luc has since been in every story set in the Tarthian Empire. He changed completely from the way I originally saw him and became a complex creature with his own unique backstory and life. So much more than I conceived him to be. It paid to listen to my critique partners, but even more to listen to my characters.

The book has been a critical success. One reviewer wrote, “I wish I could recommend reading this book, but I must instead recommend reading it twice. The ending is a serious twist that throws everything into a different light.” Another said, “Think you know what’ll happen next? No way. It’s by Kayelle.”

I’ve tried to live up to those reviews and my own promise to readers in every book since. I promise a great roller coaster ride of a story that brings excitement, fun, and takes readers in directions they didn’t expect.

After I finished the two books in the Antonello Brothers series, I saw an opportunity to bring in a third brother older than both Senth and Khyff. Guess what? He has a strong pre-existing relationship with Luc Saint-Cyr. Who knew? It will be a surprise to everyone when it’s revealed. I’m plotting that one now.

At the Mercy of Her Pleasure
Antonello Brothers 1: a Scifi Romance

Hired to steal back a prototype taken by the imperial armada, Senth Antonello retrieves it, but his brother is kidnapped to force Senth to surrender the device.

Now he has to rescue his brother, outsmart the armada, and keep the item out of imperial hands. All doable, except for one small problem. He must do it in the company of NarrAy Jorlan, a genetically altered woman whose pheromones could enhance the mission or crumble it into dust with a single siren kiss.

He’s a thief. She’s a soldier. Do opposites attract? Oh, mercy!

Genre: Military science fiction romance set in a dystopian world.
Heat level: PG13 – sweet romance with a kick
Book length: 59,650 words (full novel)
Publisher: Romance Lives Forever Books
Series: Antonello Brothers (standalone books)
The sequel for this book is For Women Only.
The prequel to the series is Bro (and it’s free on my website).

Excerpt from At the Mercy of Her Pleasure

In this scene, Senth and NarrAy have just met. She’s considering whether to hire him to help her steal back the designs for a prototype her murdered parents designed. Because she’s a Better, an enhanced human with addictive pheromones, she’s not permitted to touch anyone skin-to-skin. Senth puts on gloves and prepares to shake her hand. All her life, she has been isolated from touch, so this moment is important to her.

NarrAy offered her hand. She’d practiced this with her father as a girl. “A gentleman doesn’t try to overpower a lady’s hand, NarrAy. But he isn’t afraid to be firm either.”

She held his gloved hand between both of hers. “I can see you’re a gentleman, Mr. Antonello.”

His cheeks reddened. “Just Senth, ma’am.”

She squeezed Senth’s hand. “And I’m NarrAy. Never Ms. Jorlan, nor ma’am. Not on this job. Understood?”

He met her gaze. “Does that mean you want me?” He blushed again and glanced down at their still-joined hands. “For the job, I mean.”

She bit back a laugh. What an innocent. “So long as we’re clear on who’s in charge.”

“When it comes to theft, NarrAy, I am. For everything else, you are, in every way.”

You have no idea. He had never once tried to look at her body. Maybe this dress will be okay after all.

“Come sit.” She gestured toward an adjacent room. “Let’s talk business.”

—

This book is free on Kindle Unlimited
Amazon http://amzn.to/1f7FQ2h
Amazon print http://amzn.to/2e4hpbX
CreateSpace (Print) http://bit.ly/bro-mercy-csp

About Kayelle Allen

Kayelle is a best-selling American author. Her unstoppable heroes and heroines include contemporary every day folk, role-playing immortal gamers, futuristic covert agents, and warriors who purr.

Homeworld/Blog https://kayelleallen.com
Twitter https://twitter.com/kayelleallen
Facebook https://facebook.com/kayelleallen.author

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