It’s launch day for Zoraida Grey and the Voodoo Queen—Book 2 in my Gothic/Fantasy trilogy about how a small town fortuneteller wreaks havoc in a haunted Scottish castle—and beyond. Voodoo Queen takes Zoraida into the Yucatan jungle in search of a long-lost relative who is supposed to be the only person the witches of Castle Logan fear.

Since Zoraida is a fortuneteller, she consults her tarot cards from time to time and knows quite a bit about astrology—among many other things. To celebrate the launch of Zoraida Grey and the Voodoo Queen, I’m pulling cards and talking about characters in the series.

Justice

The Justice Card shows a stern individual holding a two-edged sword and a set of scales. The card is associated with the Zodiac sign of Libra. In Zoraida Grey and the Family Stones, the first book in the series, we meet Granny and come to know her as a crazy herbalist—some say witch—who lives in the wilds of Arkansas and dispenses herbal remedies among other things. She’s raised Zoraida since Zoraida’s parents died in a tragic boating accident when Zoraida was three years old. While we know Granny has some ulterior motive for sending Zoraida to Scotland, it isn’t until Zoraida Grey and the Voodoo Queen that we get a glimpse of her real intention: To get revenge—or in Granny’s opinion, Justice—from the Logan witches for an ancient curse. She’s been working on her plan for a long, long time.

It just so happens that I’m a Libra, so I know that we Librans are a mellow bunch. We do, however, have a few ne’er-do-wells in our midst—Ma Barker, Lee Harvey Oswald (maybe just a patsy, which would be a very dark area of the sign), Bonnie Parker, Heinrich Himmler, Vladimir Putin, and Andrei Chikatilo, a prolific Russian serial killer who confessed to 56 murders. We also count Bruce Springsteen, John Lennon, Michael Douglas, Julie Andrews, Carrie Fisher, Sigourney Weaver, Mahatma Ghandi, Jimmy Carter, Dwight D. Eisenhower, Oscar Wilde, Tom Petty, and Daniel Boone among our merry band. We seek balance and may do anything it takes to get it—up to and including rubbing out the individual causing the problem.

Birthstones for those born Libra can be peridot, lapis lazuli, opal, or agate. To celebrate the launch of Zoraida Grey and the Voodoo Queen, I’m giving away a hand-crafted birthstone pendant.

Drop by my Witchmageddon Page to enter the giveaway and to find more Pre-, During, and Post- Book Launch Festivities—Including a 99¢ SALE on Zoraida Grey and the Family Stones Book 1 in the series.

Zoraida Grey and the Voodoo Queen

Magic may save Zoraida’s skin, but what about her heart?

Zoraida Grey needs help. With the witchy Logan clan holding her best friend hostage in a haunted Scottish castle, she can’t trust anyone—certainly not beguiling but dangerous Shea Logan. And Al, her overprotective boyfriend, doesn’t believe in magic.

Only one creature strikes fear in the blackened hearts of the Logan witches. Trouble is Jock disappeared five centuries ago leaving a trail of destruction across the Gulf of Mexico. Now he’s stepped into a steaming pile of Voodoo.

Can Zoraida drag wayward Jock back to Scotland? And what’s she supposed to do with two men who promise completely different futures?

A Scottish wizard, stripped naked and painted blue—a Voodoo priestess bent on immortality—a yacht-load of Caribbean pirates. What can possibly go wrong?

Excerpt

“Tell them the story of our escape, Vera. They need to know what happened before they can decide what to do next. Even I don’t know the entire tale.”

“I’ve been wondering about that,” says Shea. “Very lucky the curse didn’t affect Zoraida.”

“Yes, it is.” Magic snaps and crackles in Granny’s eyes. She focuses on Shea, a satisfied little smile on her wrinkled lips. “The night I hid the Stone of Adamantine, Ursula and that boy of hers was looking for me high and low. They thought I meant to take over the clan—and I could have, too. But I was weary of the castle and the endless feuding. It never entered their heads I didn’t want nothing to do with that thing. They biled up a spell and sent it after me. I heered ’em.”

Granny shudders despite the bright Arkansas sun beaming through the window. “Exiled from Castle Logan for eternity on pain of death. Death to all my kin. They meant to make me watch all my children die, knowing none would live to get revenge. Then the curse would have meant a slow end for me. We managed to turn it just enough—my sister and me.”

Buy Links
https://books2read.com/ZoraidaGrey2

About Sorchia DuBois

I always intended to be a writer but life, family, and bills got in the way—oh, I took some bad advice, too. I taught English for many years but in 2014, I returned to my original plan and published Just Like Gravity, my first full-length novel. Since then, I’ve been working on a Gothic trilogy which will be finished and published in 2018. Now, I live in deepest, darkest Missouri where I plan to write until they haul me away. I like a wee nip of Scotch and will drop everything to attend any Scottish festival I can get to.

Social Media Links
Website:  www.SorchiaDubois.com
Blog: https://www.sorchiadubois.com/sorchias-universe-the-bloga/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/SorchiaDubois
Pinterest: www.pinterest.com/SorchiaDubois/
Facebook:  www.facebook.com/SorchiaD
Amazon author page: http://www.amazon.com/SorchiaDuBois/e/B00B60NOUQ/
Goodreads  author page: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6879978.Sorchia_DuBois
Google +: https://plus.google.com/u/0/+SorchiaDuBois
BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/sorchia-dubois
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/sorchiad/

UPDATE: The winner is…Tracy Howard!
*~*~*

Hello, all! Thank you first of all to Delilah for being such a gracious hostess. Visiting here with you all is always a lot of fun.

So…birthday gifts. My birthday is this weekend. I joke about not counting the numbers anymore, but still wanting the cake and presents, but really, I do still count the numbers, even if they’re daunting. This birthday will be the first without my dad, which is not so much fun. But I have a birthday dinner date with my husband this weekend, so that will help, and my boys will come bearing gifts, but I’ll have to get my own cake, I think. Something decadent and pretty, maybe.

But I’ve been thinking about birthday gifts lately, not just because my birthday is so close, but birthday gifts in general, and from previous birthdays. To be honest, I don’t always keep track of whether a gift was for a birthday, or an anniversary, or a holiday. I only know if it’s something extra-special to me. Sitting here at my desk, I can see several gifts from previous occasions, and I know a few were birthday gifts–a little stuffed dog covered in pink hearts, a small orange traffic cone that says “Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy” (my husband has a sense of humor about my writing and my love of western movies), and a candle that makes my office smell like pineapples when I light it. None of these are big gifts, but because of the thought behind them and the gift givers, they are special to me and make me smile when I look at them.

As a kid, my favorite gifts were books, no matter what the occasion. Yes, I loved if I got a new doll or something pretty, but the books were the best for me. They’re still one of my favorite things in the world.

My birthday gift to myself this weekend (besides a cake), will be a visit to the eye doctor, which is several years overdue, and an hour on the massage table. And probably some reading time, which is an all-year-round gift to myself, if I’m being honest.

In a manuscript I’m working on, the heroine has never really had anyone make a big deal over her birthday, but the hero’s family always celebrated birthdays in a huge way, so when he surprises her with a party on her birthday, she doesn’t quite know what to make of it, but it does make her see him in a very different light. How can she not fall a little more in love with him after that, even if he is totally unsuitable?

I’d love to know about some of your favorite birthday gifts from birthdays past (or present). Something you always wanted? An unexpected party? Just some alone time, maybe? I have a signed trade paperback copy of Hunting Medusa to give away–everyone who comments with their favorite birthday gift by midnight on Saturday, July 28 will be entered into a drawing for the book.

And if you’re celebrating a birthday soon, or just celebrated recently, happy birthday to you, too!

About the Author

Elizabeth Andrews has been a book lover since she was old enough to read. She read her copies of Little Women and the Little House series so many times, the books fell apart. As an adult, her book habit continues. She has a room overflowing with her literary collection right now, and still more spreading into other rooms. Almost as long as she’s been reading great stories, she’s been attempting to write her own. Thanks to a fifth grade teacher who started the class on creative writing, Elizabeth went from writing creative sentences to short stories and eventually full-length novels. Her father saved her poor, callused fingers from permanent damage when he brought home a used typewriter for her.
Elizabeth found her mother’s stash of romance novels as a teenager, and-though she loves horror- romance became her very favorite genre, making writing romances a natural progression. There are more than just a few manuscripts, however, tucked away in a filing cabinet that will never see the light of day.

Along with her enormous book collection, Elizabeth lives with her husband of more than twenty years, though no one else in the family reads nearly as much as she does. When she’s not at work or buried in books or writing, there is a garden outside full of herbs, flowers and vegetables that requires occasional attention.

Hunting Medusa
The Medusa Trilogy, Book 1

Ever since the original Medusa ticked off Athena, her cursed daughters have been paying for that mistake. To this day, successive Medusas play cat and mouse with the Harvesters.

When Kallan Tassos tracks down the current Medusa, he expects to find a monster. Instead he finds a wary, beautiful woman, shielded by a complicated web of spells that foils his plans for a quick kill and retrieval of her protective amulet.

Andrea Rosakis expects the handsome Harvester to go for the kill. Instead, his attempt to take the amulet imprinted on her skin without harming her takes her completely by surprise. And ends with the two of them in a magical bind—together.

Though there attraction is combustible, her impending PMS (Pre Magical-Curse Syndrome) puts a real damper on any chance of a relationship. But Kallan isn’t the only Harvester tracking Andi, and they must cooperate to stay one step ahead of a ruthless killer before they can have any future, together or apart.

Hello Delilah and friends, and thanks for letting me take over your blog.

Sometimes, when I try to explain to friends and co-workers (or my boss!) where my ideas come from, I get anything from a raised eyebrow to a polite “that’s interesting” or “I never would have thought of that.” Whether that’s a good or bad thing is unclear. Many of my original ideas come from the murky depths of my sleeping mind.

My latest Soul Mate release, Shifting Auras, started life in 2011 that way—as a half-remembered snippet of a dream. I wrote down what I could remember, and the germ of an idea started there. I wrote out some ideas and put the story aside. When I went back to it, a new idea started coming to me. Perhaps it was all the Marvel movies out there but I began thinking of a group of powered humans, ala the X-Men, and the government agencies they might be working through. The idea of having supernormal powers has always fascinated me. What would it mean to be telekinetic or psychic? Would it be good or bad? What would it mean for us and the world? I didn’t want to go down the road of “mutants are evil” as some current shows and movies have done, so I centered it around a shadow government agency. It’s been so much fun to write the series, and there are more books to come. Part of the challenge is finding powers for my characters. Outside of the popular ones, there are many others to play with, and I’m trying them all out.

I grew up reading anything that my parents had in the house. As it happened, much of what they had was science fiction and fantasy, so I skewed toward that from an early age. When I was younger it wasn’t an accepted thing to do, but I found my tribe, and we wrought havoc together. I could identify with Maya Wingfield, the heroine in Shifting Auras, who always felt like a bit of an outcast. I think that’s what makes these sorts of stories interesting. It’s the idea of not quite fitting in, of not belonging, whether you are a newcomer to school, entering an unfamiliar work place for the first time, or visiting a city where you are unsure of your welcome…or you have the ability to know what a person is thinking. I see it as a burden as much as it is a boon. The need to belong, to find people who accept you, is such a part of the human condition that it cuts across all social strata, whoever you are.

I will pick two people who answer this question to get a free ARC of Shifting Auras. If you could have a superpower, what would it be and why? Post your answer at https://www.facebook.com/ClaireDavonindieauthor/

Again, thank you to Delilah for the opportunity to interact with all you fine folks. If you’re curious about me, I can be reached at the following places in addition to my Facebook page noted above.

Website: www.clairedavon.com
Twitter: https://twitter.com/ClaireDavon
Newsletter/mailing list: http://clairedavon.com/mailing-list/

Here is a snippet of Shifting Auras, available exclusively on Amazon…

Maya backed away from him and toward the door, her hands going up in front of her body. Could she get out if she needed to and start screaming for help? Or could he use his power, whether telekinesis or something else, before she got a word out?

“Relax,” Ian said, his voice rising in jagged syllables. “Crikey, your emotions are written all over your face. The sensitive in Hammersmith can probably hear you. Take it down a level.”

He filled the room. She had no doubt he was faster than her and could get to her before she could yank open the door. He probably didn’t even need to move to shut it.

“I’m not here to hurt you, Maya. Bollocks, can’t you feel that? Reach in and find out if I’m telling the truth. I’ll let you.”

Bobbie made a noise and began to retch on the comforter. The air conditioner filtered the sour smell into the room.

“I . . .” she said and stopped. Touching his mind, she felt his shield again, a malleable surface she wanted—needed—to see beyond. A beat of anger at her friend pulsed under the shield before he lowered it just a little. He burned with determination and a sense of mission, but there was also sensual awareness pulsing under the skin. It was something she’d never touched before in a man. It glowed hot with primal need, searing through her and manifesting as red in his aura.

Maya concentrated on her breathing until she was lightheaded from hyperventilating. Putting a hand on her wrist Maya was relieved to feel her heartbeat slowing. Ian’s hands were overlapping on his belt buckle, a posture of waiting but not of ease. She noted with little surprise that his palms had a faint red glow in the center. Telekinetic, then. No surprise. He could, in fact, shut the door even if she got it open. She was trapped inside with someone of unknown motives, who may not have her best interests in mind. Universe rarely did, from what her parents had said.

“Um,” she said and stopped. After several moments of silence Maya relaxed and inclined her head. “You’re a big man and the whole thing is a bit sketchy, don’t you think?”

“It’s dodgy, luv, I get that. Do you think I’m dangerous?”

Maya swallowed, wishing she had a glass of water. Silence filled the room, punctuated only by Bobbie’s piteous noises. She noticed that he hadn’t made any move to go from the room. His aura was barely visible in the dim light. Pink and blue banded together, not mixing but staying distinct. Compassion, then, and dedication. No darker emotions, although something lay deep inside, but it was in a place she couldn’t get to.

“Not dangerous per se,” she said. “Not safe either. Thank you for helping Bobbie.”

Ian made an impatient gesture with his hands, waving them first toward Bobbie and then Maya.

“There is a lot we need to discuss.”

“Please,” she said, putting a hand to her head, feeling an incipient headache begin. “Just go.”

He opened his mouth but then shut it. Still he waited, his heavy scrutiny pleading with her to change her mind. She pointed to the door, aware she was being rude, but in that moment not caring. Too much had happened, and she needed him gone.

He retrieved a business card from his wallet and handed it to her. Their hands clasped momentarily, and electricity danced down her forearm. Without looking, Maya curled her fingers around it, but still gestured toward the door. Finally, Ian nodded.

“Call if you need me. We need to talk.”

“No, we don’t,” she replied. “Thank you but I have no interest in any of your groups.”

“You will.” With that, he made a short bow, spun on his heel, and left.

Maya leaned against the door after he had gone. He felt so familiar, but he was Universe. Never trust the government, that’s what her parents had said. Even if she felt like she should.

I have something I need to admit. *looks around then leans in* I’m a people watcher. There, I said it again. I’m talking about this because I had a conversation the other day that somehow lead to my being a people watcher. Yep I’m a people watcher. In my conversation I explained what I meant and why. Simply, it’s this—sitting back and observing others as they interact, or anyway I can get it, makes my mind race with ideas. I like to observe them and build stories about them. Imagining all sorts of scenarios about what story will fit them. I get a lot of my ideas from my people watching. There is something that can spark an idea which will expand into so much more. 🙂

Recently, this happened to me as I was out doing errands. I was walking and, in front of me, I saw this couple. As I shopped, they were just ahead of me so I was in a great place to people watch. The more I saw them the more my ideas flowed. It ranged from a newly dating couple to a established one. Then something happened to fuel my thoughts. Suddenly, they stopped and their body language went from close to distant then angry. That’s another great tool of the imagination—reading body language. But that’s another conversation for another day. Curious about what was happening before me, I stopped. The couple was too far away for me to hear but seeing the way they were I was able to figure out they were having a fight. The man stormed off leaving the lady, and she looked sad. It was an intense moment. I felt bad for her and the man she had been with. No, I didn’t know what they had fought about, but the emotions from their interaction were there to see.

As I walked away, I was wondering and my mind was filling in what could have happened. I’m a people watcher.

Veils Rising

Veils Rising – Man with secrets.
A Zuri Maji on hunt for answers. Will they survive?
Universal Link for Amazon, Nook, iBooks and Kobo, etc: http://bit.ly/veilsrising

About the Author

Taige Crenshaw has been enthralled with the written word from time she picked up her first book. It wasn’t long before she started to make up her own tales of romance.

With interracial and multicultural novels set in today, in alternate dimensions, or in the future, she writes with adventure, fun sassy heroine’s, and sexy hero’s.

Always hard at work creating new and exciting places, Taige can be found curled up with a hot novel with exciting characters when she is not creating her own. Join her in the fun, frolic, interesting people and far reaches of the world in her novels.

You can find out more about Taige…
website: http://www.taigecrenshaw.com
blog: http://www.taigecrenshaw.com/blog
facebook: https://www.facebook.com/TaigeCrenshawAuthor
facebook group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/WordSlingerCafe
Or twitter: @ https://twitter.com/TaigeCrenshaw

NEWSLETTER! Want to get the latest information and from Taige’s writing projects, giveaways, contests, reveals and more? Click on http://bit.ly/taigenews and signup today.

You’ll just have to pick up a copy of Gargoyle’s Embrace to see! Do you love mythology as much as I do? Greek, Norse, Egyptian… I could get lost for hours in books about mythical heroes! So, I wrote one. It’s very naughty! Consider yourself warned!

Gargoyle’s Embrace

Lust trapped them in darkness…only love can free them…

Petra Pedersen has lived as a recluse all her life thanks to a shameful power inherited from the father she will never know—the power to incite lust in men and women with just a touch. Exploring the garden of the mansion she’s just inherited, she comes across a fascinating stone gargoyle whose raw, passionate expression draws her to caress its powerful body. Her imagination follows her fluttering fingers. As she closes her eyes and gives herself up to the arousal, something shifts beneath her touch.

Long ago, failure to stop a demon battle trapped Octavius in a prison of stone. Freed by the woman’s incendiary touch, he doesn’t hesitate to unleash his pent-up rage and desire in a blistering fury. Yet once the haze of lust clears, he discovers he isn’t really free after all. They are both trapped in another realm where he must choose between his last chance for redemption or returning Petra home…

Warning: Sex with inanimate objects, lusty m/m/f ménages with gods… It’s all good when the reward is freedom.

Get your copy here!

And…what readers are saying about Cochise?

“This series of books [Montana Bounty Hunters] is one of the author’s finest.”

“Cochise (Book 4) was exciting, fast paced, scary, filled with plot twists…”

“Heart pounding action and a VERY satisfying read!”

A hunt deep in a national forest forges bonds between a bounty hunter and a woman desperate to find her sister…

Get your copy here!

Meet Titus – the Soon to be Alpha of the Rock Prowler Pack when interviewed by one of his pack’s cubs.

“You want something, Sammy? An interview for your school magazine? Well… I suppose it couldn’t hurt.”

Sammy giggled and opened up his writing book. “So, T. what’s your nickname.”

Titus: “Never had one. Not unless T. counts. You started something the first time you called me that. Now the whole pack uses it.”

Sammy blushed. “It suits you. But I said Big T first, what with you being so big and all. Anyway. Where did you go to school?”

Titus:“I planned to head to earth and do some serious study”—he shook his head—“but things went so far south it never happened. Some witch kidnapped my true-mate and I spent almost a century trying to free her.” The wolf’s shoulders slumped as he stared into the distance. After a deep breath, he added. “Not that she wants anything to do with me or the pack. I guess you can say I graduated from the school of Hard Knocks.”

Too young to understand Titus’s pain, Sammy shook his head. “Girls suck.”

Titus:“Only when you’re a cub. Give it a few years and you might say different. My best dream was to bond with my true-mate but she wouldn’t even look at me. Now I don’t have any dreams left.”

Sammy carefully wrote Titus’s every word in his notebook. “What would you do if you became rich overnight.

Titus:(growls softly). “I can’t see my luck changing now. No, don’t write that bit down. Let’s just say I’m not hurting financially and I don’t need more money.”

Sammy broke off to sharpen his pencil. “And what’s your favorite food?”

Titus:Nothing tastes good anymore except whisky. No, don’t write that down either. Just put that I don’t have much appetite. I hunt and I eat whatever I can find. That’s it, Sammy. Interview over.”

Titus stood and beckoned a group of cubs over.“Time for your tracking lesson. Give me a two-minute head start, and if you find me, I’ll shout the lot of you an ice-cream.”

To Seduce an Omega

The Rock Prowler alpha condemns Viola for her inability to shift. Forced into poverty and isolation, she ekes out a meager existence as a healer. As the pack omega with a crippled knee, she’s forbidden to mate. Her first heat beckons, but no wolf will dare to bed her.

Titus, a wolf rejected by his true mate, overflows with violence and anger. The Lykae King sends him to take over the Rock Prowler pack. He condemns Viola for wanting payment before she treats her patients and threatens to bring in a new pack healer. With her crippled knee and no other income, she’d starve.

She-wolves from families who disagree with the alpha have vanished. When Titus investigates, the alpha’s allies imprison both him and Viola. To escape, he must seduce Viola—the she-wolf he insulted and reviled. If that’s not bad enough, she despises him for his seeming allegiance to the alpha. As he gets to know her, she steals his heart, but after all that’s happened, how can she accept him when even his fated mate refused him?

Buy links
Amazon USA            https://amzn.to/2MFqbcR
Amazon UK               https://amzn.to/2K0Z3TS
Amazon Canada      https://amzn.to/2M89aXA
Amazon Australia    https://amzn.to/2ytGFBS

 Excerpt

“Heal her.” The stranger scowled and thrust the injured woman at Viola.

She blinked and stepped back so quickly she almost overbalanced. After taking a moment to stand up as straight as her crippled leg allowed, she donned her professional healer persona. “For a price. Cash. Up front.”

Viola lied, of course. Leaving anyone in pain was beyond her, but the man with the broad chest and gold-flecked eyes didn’t need to know that. Besides, unless she got hold of some cash soon, she might never eat meat again.

The low growl that rumbled from his throat and the way his eyes narrowed made her wish she’d stayed silent. He bared his fangs, and although she wanted to retreat, she stubbornly held her ground.

His lip curled. “Do it. I’m good for your fees. Just get a move on.”

His deep, angry rumble made her think of a volcano ready to erupt. And damn, when she stared up him, he looked as tall as the mountains that trapped her in Rock Prowler territory. Out here in the midst of the forest, miles from the nearest settlement, she should be wary. This stranger emanated strength, protection, and…flat-out fury. At her.

His jaw clamped as he shoved past her into the hut. She followed, mentally triaging her patient. Tansy’s clothes hung off her in tatters, and an arrow stuck out of her leg. Deep scratches, the sort only a murder thorn could inflict, covered her torso. The woman’s breathing came in fast, shallow pants. Her skin looked as though it had been touched with frost, and rivers of dried blood stained her leg.

Absently, Viola wondered what the other woman been up to that involved tangling with a bush renowned for shredding skin. Not running from Mr. Fix-It here, I hope. Ignoring her concerns and her attraction to a newcomer with the short hair and bad attitude, she reached out to stroke Tansy’s hair. Rather than gather her supplies, Viola hardened her heart and met the stranger’s gaze.

With his torn ear and bent nose, Mr. Fix-It looked ready to tear out her throat. Her stomach clenched as though he’d punched her, and his disgusted look promised a reckoning once she’d tended Tansy’s wounds. Viola’s tender heart went out to the woman in his arms. Despite her bold words, she’d never let Tansy suffer, but she needed to bargain to survive.

As the pack’s omega wolf, she expected nothing from anyone—except insults, of course. Chin high, spine stiff, she kept her hands at her side. “Perhaps you shouldn’t have chased her into a murder thorn in the first place. Of course, I’ll help her once we’ve agreed on a price.”

The stranger’s furious growl cut to her heart, but unless she demanded her cash in advance, she’d starve.

About Kryssie Fortune

Kryssie’s imagination runs wild. She loves dragons, sensual Fae, and sensual vampires. Show her a dominant Lykae male and her toes curl. Feel free to visit her website or check out her blog. She can also be found on Facebook or Twitter.

Author links
Website: http://kryssiefortune.wixsite.com/kryssiefortune-books
Blog: http://kryssiefortune.blogspot.co.uk
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/Kryssie-Fortune-Author-Page-267100286738528/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/KryssieFortune

I’ve been writing for a while. I have numerous series, standalone titles, and short stories. If you’ve never read or barely read me, I can keep you busy for a while! 🙂

One of my first series, that’s still ongoing, is my Night Fall series. It’s near and dear to my heart. And there are 14 stories in the series, so far. The last title I released was Big Bad Wolf, which I adored. What wasn’t to love? A rugged, backwoods wolf with no love for vampires. A vampire with every reason to hate wolves… Of course, they had to fall in love. And there will be more stories. So, dive in. None of them are terribly long. You can consume them like candy. I dare you to give them a try…

Comment for a chance to win your choice of download from among the stories shown below! I’ll pick three winners!

Click on the covers to learn more about the stories!

           

Big Bad Wolf

Ginnie Martin is a badass. She was born that way one horror-filled night. Forged in blood—her own and her family’s. All were ravaged by savage beasts. Her vampire savior recruited her to fight with his small army against the creatures responsible for her devastating loss. But now, he’s asking too damn much. He wants her to open her home to new allies who, until only recently, were their fiercest foes. Wolves.

Calum Fletcher already bristles against providing muscle to a vampire force. Content living in his remote mountain cabin, he’s never been much for mixing with other wolves, much less making nice with vampires. He was already having a hard time dealing, but the woman letting him bunk in her home wears an even larger chip on her shoulder. Quickly, his new favorite sport is goading her into losing her temper—because everyone knows a vampire’s bloodlust leads to very sexy places…

Read an excerpt…

The moment Calum Fletcher stepped into The Cavern, his body quickened. The heavy thud of his heart pounded at his temples. His skin prickled. Above the scent of booze and sex, he noted the musty, metallic odor of blood, and his stomach churned. Every instinct shouted danger.

Striding past the brawny, dull bouncer at the door, he kept moving, needing to draw calm around him before his nature was revealed. Although the vampires had been warned of his pack’s arrival in Seattle, he preferred to cloak himself in humanskin, free of wolf scent. The better to study the enemies he’d now be aligning with in war.

Dance music beat against his body. Bright, strobing lights pierced his eyes. Turning from the dance floor, he moved toward the bar, ignoring the activities of the patrons—the feasting, the fucking. Everywhere, except at the bar, an orgy of bloodlust and sexual excess was in progress.

The blonde behind the bar gave him quick, assessing glance. Her green eyes narrowed. “Can I get you a drink?” she asked, all the while continuing to watch him as though she expected trouble.

“A beer.”

“No preference?”

He shook his head, wanting to look away, but he was studying her as well. The blonde, uneven cut that barely reached to her chin looked wind-tousled. Her pale unpainted cheeks were as smooth as porcelain. Her mouth was bowed but held in a tight, firm line. Below, her figure was lean and muscled with only a slight flare of hips and a meager bosom.

And then he viewed her clothing—a black, form-fitting tank and faded blue jeans with ragged holes over both knees, stuffed into square-toed black boots. Harsh, dark. Echoing the look in the eyes.

Vampire, he concluded. Had she already guessed his true nature?

She placed the beer on a cardboard coaster in front of him. “Haven’t seen you here before,” she said, her voice soft, but with a hint of an edge.

“I’m from out of town.” Out of state, actually, but he didn’t elaborate.

“How did you find this place?”

He gave a shrug then met her gaze, locking with it. “I was walking along the docks. Heard the music.”

She frowned. “And once you came inside…?”

Her tone clued him she was angling to hear what he thought of what was going on. A human who ventured inside by accident should be shocked. So, she hadn’t made him.

He held still. Barely breathed. If she knew he wasn’t a willing “host,” someone who understood the rules of the blood exchange, what would she do? His curiosity was piqued by her deepening frown and downturned mouth. Was she considering giving him a “friendly” warning?

Calum broke with her gaze and glanced at the dance floor. Most pairs danced, bodies moving in a wild fervor. A few barely swayed while hosts’ necks bent and vamps’ mouths worked, teeth and tongues biting and licking. He barely repressed a shudder. Worse, his gums tingled. When he turned back, he didn’t bother hiding a frown.

She reached out a hand and cupped the back of his wrapped around the beer. “Are you curious?” she asked, her voice thicker than before and lisping.

Curious about her, yes. Which should have alarmed him. But she wasn’t flirting and wasn’t attempting to use her vampire’s tricks to seduce him. Her gaze was direct. A straightforward challenge.

And although he wasn’t there to play, he did have time to satisfy his curiosity. The rest of his pack would be arriving soon enough. He’d pushed ahead of the convoy while they’d stopped for a meal. He gave a slight nod.

Her chest rose, and she lifted a hand to signal to a waitress, who made her way behind the far end of the long wooden bar. Then the blonde lifted the hinged, vertical opening in the bar and stepped through to join him.

Standing next to him, she had to raise her head to meet his gaze, something that appeared to irritate her, because a frown dug a line between her brows. “Bring your beer.” She stepped past him, skirting the dance floor and moving toward a row of leather-upholstered booths at the opposite side of the room, lit only by candles set in decorative glass bowls.

He followed, beer in hand, then slid into the booth she indicated.

Rather than taking a seat opposite him, she slid in beside him and turned, raising one knee to the seat. Her gaze went to his beard then trailed over his chest and below, before slowly rising again to his face. “I’m Ginnie,” she said, her voice huskier than before.

He noted the sharpened tips of her corner canines, peeking from beneath her upper lip. “Calum,” he said, his own voice deepening. His breathing was coming faster, sitting this close to her, drinking in her sweet-almond scent, which should have acted like repellent. But almond blended with a slight hint of vanilla and her feminine musk, and now moisture gathered in his mouth. He wanted a taste.

His mouth twitched and, inside, he laughed at himself for his attraction. How long had passed since he’d fucked a woman? Now, he wished he’d come better prepared. Vampires were naturally sensual creatures. That was all this lust was. He was growing aroused because she was what she was, and he’d been without for far too long.