Wow! Can you believe September’s gone? I’m pretty happy today. My dd is coming back from two weeks in Virginia, which means tonight I get to sleep in my own bed! Whee! And I get to go back to job #1. WRITING!

Do I sound too gleeful? 🙂

Oh well, sorry, dd. Your kids are great, but 7 dogs, 4 cats, and 2 guinea pigs were also pretty demanding!

Anyways—just to remind you that I have been busy this month, and you do have plenty to keep you busy in your downtime—here’s what released in September!

September’s Releases

While hiding her true identity, Maddie must seduce the mysterious Lord Garon to cement their marriage contract and ensure she won’t be returned into her lecherous stepfather’s care.

Fresh from Crusade in Palestine, Lord Garon has a secret he must hide, a hunger that must be fed, and a dark and uncertain future. Having shed himself of a fiancée he’d never met, he’s home to lick his wounds. The only thing he wants is a warm-blooded meal–but the new housekeeper is strangely insistent on giving him so much more.

Maddie’s seduction doesn’t progress without complications, but one secret from her own past might put an end to the love she nurtures for her dark, tempestuous lover.

Get your copy here!

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!

When former SEAL, now Charter Group operator, “Snake” McPherson, is assigned to guard a social media star, he’s not pleased. Edgy from back-to-back tours in the sandbox, the last thing he wants it to tail some “selfie-princess.” Worse, the spoiled little rich girl doesn’t want anyone to know that’s his purpose. No, Cat Mikkelson insists he pretend to be her boyfriend for the weekend, a paid escort for a party at some billionaire’s private island. Worse, the woman dresses him like a Ken doll and insists they share the same room at the billionaire’s mansion.

Cat Mikkelson has a secret. Despite her carefree, online persona, she’s frightened. She’s been a prisoner inside her Manhattan apartment since she broke it off with her prizefighter boyfriend. She knows all too well what he’s capable of, so when she’s invited for a weekend getaway, she’s relieved for a chance to escape her prison while her lawyers gear up to serve him a restraining order. Her handsome bodyguard turns out to be a blessing in more ways than one. With him, she feels safe, and for the first time in a long time, she’s ready to play. The more she pushes his boundaries, the hotter their exchanges get.

As things heat up between Snake and Cat, her past pays a visit…

Get your copy here!

After bucking her trainer’s orders during a take-down, a female bounty hunter proves she’s more than ready for the job…

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!

I’ve always loved reading books with magical worlds, especially when those worlds exist inside our own. So, when I sat down to create my Beaux Rêve Coven series, I combined all the things I love…magic, the Louisiana bayou, alpha heroes, clever witches, and great sex. 🙂

Once in a Blue Moon comes out this Thursday from Amazon, so be sure to get a copy. The story will be available in Kindle Unlimited for only three months, then it will be available at all the usual places.  Read the sexy excerpt below…

Once in a Blue Moon 

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…

Pre-order your copy here!

Read an excerpt…

(Here, the heroine still thinks the hero is human. This is not the hottest scene…)

The kitchen door whooshed inward, and she glanced back. “I can handle the dishes on my o—”

Ethan stood behind her. “Let me dry.”

She didn’t want him to dry. She wanted him to make her very, very wet. She swallowed hard and faced forward. “Towels are in the drawer beside the stove.”

He walked closer and bent to reach beyond her into the drawer. His proximity wasn’t necessary, but her body wasn’t complaining. Her breasts felt suddenly fuller, her hips looser. Fingers touched the small of her back, and then he moved beside her and began to empty the rack.

“Dinner was terrific.”

She’d made shepherd’s pie with a fluffy crust, fresh bread rolls, and grilled string beans topped with sprinkles of crisp bacon.

“You don’t have to go to so much effort.”

“Cooking’s not a chore.”

“You love it,” he said, smiling.

“I do.”

“Well, I appreciate the results.”

“You’re welcome.”

She rolled her eyes at her stilted responses. Still, he loved her cooking. Warmth filled her chest. “You don’t have to help me with the dishes. You put in a full day’s work.”

“I prefer the company in here.”

She glanced to her side, gave him a small smile, and then finished the last of the cutlery. “These can air-dry.”

He set aside his towel and moved behind her, bringing his hands down on the edge of the counter, trapping her between his thick, muscled arms. His warm breath stirred the hair beside her ear. “Town’s small. Where does a guy take a girl if he wants a little privacy?”

To her bedroom, but she guessed that would seem a little too forward. “He might ask her to walk in the garden,” she said softly. “There’s a gazebo in the back…”

He nuzzled his nose through her hair, skimmed his lips over her neck, and she couldn’t resist tilting her head to allow him a little more access to her bare skin.

“Come with me.”

Not a request. Not that she minded at all. She was eager to be alone with him. She let him take her hand and pull her toward the kitchen door. They slipped out onto the porch, and he let her lead him with their fingers intertwined past the raised-bed herb garden, past tall beanstalks and sweet corn. She led him to the trellised gate, overhung with hyacinth. “It’s not much farther,” she said, glancing back.

His expression was closed, his dark eyes shadowed. But she wasn’t afraid. He tightened his hand around her fingers. He was growing tense. Just like she was—from anticipation.

Excitement quivered through her. Every sense was alert. Just the air brushing her bare arms and legs felt erotic. The scent of honeysuckle and roses teased her nose. The sound of his heavy tread thudded like her heartbeat. Just ahead, the latticed sides of the gazebo were like silver interwoven bones in the moonlight.

Beautiful. Frightening as well, because there in the darkness they cloaked awaited the possibility of intimacies shared—with this man who had managed to consume her thoughts from the first moment his glance had landed on her. Just yesterday. How could that be?

Already, when they weren’t together, she was obsessed with thoughts of him. When he was near, her body awoke. Her breasts ached for his touch. Her sex throbbed with building heat. She was constantly wet. Constantly ready. If he wanted her this night, she wasn’t going to refuse. Her body was too painfully aroused to ignore.

They entered the structure, and he tugged her to a halt. She stood facing away, trying to catch her breath. But her breathing was so shallow she was nearly panting.

He let go of her hand and settled both of his at her waist. His grip was light but insistent, and he pressed against her back. His chest was a brick wall. And below, she felt the nudge of a long, hard column against her buttocks.

Silently, he was warning her. This was what he wanted. She could refuse, ease away from the pressure, and he would accede, perhaps giving her kisses and caresses through her clothing. Nothing more than she was willing to accept at this moment.

But she was greedy. She wanted everything he had to give, and she wanted it now. Lifting her hand, she shifted her hair from her neck. “The zipper’s right there,” she whispered.

She heard a loud swallow and was glad he showed a little surprise. Was he as nervous as she was? It had been so long since she’d been intimate with a man. Nearly five years. And then she’d been in Merrick’s thrall. His to switch on and off like a light bulb when he needed release or a spell.

Ethan’s hands left her waist. Tucking his fingers under the neckline of her dress, he slowly lowered her zipper, and then pushed her dress downward until it puddled at her feet.

She stepped out of it and moved it away with a toe. Now she stood, still facing away, in just her lacy panties and bra.

Within seconds, he unhooked her bra and dragged it off her arms. Her nipples puckered instantly in the night air. He smoothed her panties down, kneeling behind her, his cheek against her ass as he waited for her to step out of her underwear. There was no way he could miss the scent of her arousal.

He slid upward, gliding his body against hers and holding still for a moment before stepping away. The shuffling sounds of clothing being dragged off made her smile, because he was hurrying. His belt clanging on the wood floor was the final sound before he reached around her to cup her breasts. His bare cock pushed impudently against her backside.

“I apologize for the rush,” he said, a lovely growling texture to his deep voice.

“Apologize only if you make me wait.”

His laugh was short, pained. “Then I’m sorry. I don’t want to take you on the hard floor.”

She pointed to the seats tucked against the latticed walls. “The cushions,” she said, her own voice lowering, sounding foreign it was so husky.

He stepped around her, his head bent downward, concealing his expression as he grabbed cushions and arranged them on the floor. When he’d made a bed for them, he stood behind her again. “Let me do this my way.”

His way meant she would be on hands and knees. His callused palms urged her downward, arranging her knees, sinking the center of her back to tilt her bottom upward.

She didn’t mind that he treated her like a doll, that he took charge, his body blanketing hers as he set the width of her hands just so. He was warm and hard and surrounding her. His cock glided on the backs of her thighs, nudged her buttocks, and slid along her wet folds.

And his cock was huge. A blunt instrument. Rock solid as the rest of him.

When he was satisfied, he moved away. Her head bowed toward the floor. She hoped he’d take her. Sink his many inches inside her. However, the first flick of his tongue against her folds sent an electrical charge through her.

She must have been wound too tight. Nearly on the verge of orgasm for it to affect her so. She steeled herself against the pleasure, not wanting to disappoint him by leaving him in the dust.

He teased her with more flicks to her outer folds. Then he suckled there, drawing her inside his mouth for gentle nibbles. His whiskers raked her sex and inner thighs.

Not that she minded the abrasion. He could scour her skin off so long as he found her center. Which he did, dipping his tongue inside her and swirling. A deep groan vibrated against her sex.

When he pulled away again, she whimpered. She didn’t need foreplay, she needed the main event. But the nips he gave her fleshy ass made her jerk, escalating her sensitivity to his every touch.

Fingers parted her then swirled around her entrance. They eased her open, stretched her, one finger added at a time until she was beyond full. He spent so much time preparing her for his girth, she began to wonder if she’d underestimated just as how large he was.

The moment he prodded her with the blunt knob of his cock, she knew. He spread her folds and pressed against her, apparently gripping himself to circle her entrance and ease himself inside with precision and insistent pressure.

She’d dreamed about the way it would feel. Now, pleasure was edged with worry that he wouldn’t fit. But she was wet, and more liquid seeped from inside her to coat his heavy cock. At last, he breached her entrance.

She sagged, her arms already shaking. Her body was too tight, too excited for her to slow her heart or reactions. “Ethan,” she whimpered.

The pressure relented. He held still. “Am I hurting you?” His voice sounded as though he were grinding rocks between his teeth.

“Yes,” she hissed, but she didn’t want him to stop. She wanted the pressure and the pain. “More, please.”

His laugh was choked. He gripped the notches of her hips to hold her immobile and worked himself inside in shallow, pulsing waves, in and out, deeper and deeper—until Goddess, he was touching her womb.

She felt a pinch deep inside her. A quiver of core-deep delight. This could be the moment. If only he didn’t realize he’d taken her unprotected and pulled free at the last.

Bryn sank her chest against the cushions and reached far beneath her, past his cock, to his balls. She gripped them, massaging them, sending out a flash of witch’s heat.

“Fuck, Bryn. Don’t…” He dug his fingers hard into her fleshy hips, pulled back, and then slammed forward.

She released his balls, certain he wouldn’t stop until she’d achieved her goal. She’d unleashed his passion.

His hips moved faster, his cock cramming deeply, whipping back and shoving forward again. The sheer fullness made her want to shout. Her back arched, and she pushed backward, trying to break his hold, but he began to move her, bringing her back as he thrust, pushing her away as he withdrew. He hammered her. Jostled her. Roughly, so deliciously, she was on the verge of exploding.

And then he began to move his hands on her skin. He reached up one hand to grab her hair and force her back to arch more, gliding another on her skin, raising gooseflesh. Her hair was lifting and prickling on the back of her neck. Static charged the air, and her eyes widened.

She knew at last why he’d been so attractive, why she’d been inexorably drawn to him. Why she’d craved this union.

Demon! she screamed inside. But it was already too late. Heat swept through her, electricity crackled. Her core convulsed, her orgasm exploding outward, weakening her limbs, stealing her mind.

She slumped against the floor as he thrust twice more, and then his seed jetted inside her. His shout as he came was filled with triumph.

When at last he grew still, he released her.

She crawled forward on her hands and knees and rolled to stare up in horror as he braced his hands on his thighs and met her stare. Her heart thudded dully against her chest.

His eyes glowed green in the darkness.

Not just demon. Troll!

I’m ready to write some more witches. Are you ready to read ’em? I had this little series started for Samhain before they closed their doors, and I never got a chance to finish it. I have the first two of five books written. So, if you haven’t already read them, you can start here—well, on September 14th, anyway! Read the opening of this story to get a flavor of my witches.

Once in a Blue Moon

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 into trouble. Bryn’s a witch, and her coven is 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 is better to keep your enemies close…

Pre-order your copy here!

Read an excerpt from Once in a Blue Moon…

Bryn Cavanaugh stirred the contents of a large black pot, breathing in the rich aromas scenting the air.

“With your blessings, come weal and bounty,

With our efforts, come fortunes plenty.”

The spell was short and to the point. She doubted the Powers That Be felt slighted. The Beaux Rêve women worked damn hard and never took their blessings for granted.

She dipped a spoon into the broth and tasted it, closing her eyes as she sampled the spicy mix. “Delicious.”

She turned off the flame beneath the large pot of shrimp gumbo she’d begun the night before. For now, it could steep in its fragrant roux. When she returned, she’d light the burner again to let it simmer slowly until it was ready for tonight when her sisters gathered for the evening meal. Satisfied, Bryn left her large, airy kitchen and headed toward the front door of the inn.

Cooking the large stew had been time-consuming. A task that had taken her mind off the trouble that was brewing. Today, the sisters faced enemies, and she was determined to remain calm, study their adversaries and determine their weaknesses while smothering the interlopers with kindness. Her totem was the rabbit, a symbol of abundance and comfort, and her element was the Earth. She would need to channel both to remain steadfast and calm.

She paused to rifle through the stones in the bowl beside the door. Some were polished and some raw crystals. She found her two favorites—a polished amethyst carved into a worry stone with a soft indentation for her finger to rub against when she grew agitated and a piece of raw witch’s amber. One for cleansing her spirit of stress and the other for deflecting negativity. These she’d also need this morning.

She put both in the pocket of her long flowing skirt and stepped off the porch, barefoot today, because she wanted nothing between herself and the Earth. Freshly cut grass tickled her insoles. She smiled, her first in days since news had arrived that outsiders were descending on them.

“Mornin’, Bryn.”

Looking to her right, she caught sight of Father Guidry watering his small garden beside his tiny clapboard church. She gave him a wave, her silver and beaded bracelets jangling on her arms, but didn’t stop to discuss his plantings. No doubt he’d say this year’s success was due to prayer. Oh, and he’d be right.

She didn’t have the heart to tell him she’d snuck into his garden every night for weeks to pray to the Goddess for her favor. The elderly priest was a kind man, and he tolerated the sisters of the Beaux Rêve coven while continuing to hold out hope they’d see the error of their strange ways.

Tolerance was a blessing, and something the folks of Bonne Nuit, Louisiana, gave in abundance. Sure, they’d been suspicious of the women when they’d first arrived in their tiny hamlet. But the prosperity the women had brought—the jobs and self-sufficiency—had earned them, if not acceptance then at least a place in this isolated community. However, the isolation, something the coven considered their greatest blessing, was now threatened. Progress had arrived.

She stayed in the grass beside the sidewalk, skirting Main Street and walking toward the river where her sisters were gathered. But as she neared the canal, she found they’d been joined by gawkers. Nearly all of Bonne Nuit was there.

Radha and Darcy stood glaring at the gathering on the opposite bank while Aoife and Miren stared at the clouds above them.

“You’re blind,” Miren said. “It’s a scimitar. A reminder we aren’t without weapons for this battle.”

Aoife shook her head, a frown bisecting her pale brows. “It’s the Reaper’s scythe. We’re doomed.”

Bryn rolled her eyes. She didn’t need to read portents in clouds. All she had to do was look straight across the divide at the big machinery and the crew of strangers there to operate the earthmovers, crane and dump trucks to know they were in real trouble.

“I take it the injunction was lifted?” she asked the group.

Radha nodded. “Last night. I’m sure they paid a judge to do it in the dark of night. Demons do their best work in the dark.”

Bryn took her gloomy response with a grain of salt. The witches were ever vigilant of demons, but the more likely culprit was simply the state’s schedule for recovery from the last hurricane. The bridge that had connected Bonne Nuit to the rest of the world had been swept away three years ago. Something the town had taken in stride since it was a cyclical occurrence. This part of Jefferson Parish was prone to flooding. And Gus Hearn, a local with a Duck Dynasty beard and an old ferry boat, provided transport across the water when needed.

Gus’s boat was already docked on the opposite bank, and he was loading two vehicles, a green construction-company pickup and a delivery truck bringing supplies to Darcy’s crafters’ cottage.

“We can’t take this lying down,” Darcy said, shaking back her long red hair. “Tonight’s a blue moon.”

Bryn stiffened. “The last time we asked for intervention didn’t turn out so well. Remember, we asked for rain for our summer planting? We got a deluge that nearly wiped out the entire crop. Perhaps we should let things be. They’ll build their bridge, and the Goddess will send another storm.”

Darcy’s frown was fierce. “But strangers will walk amongst us. What if we’re found?”

“So far we’ve been lucky. Blessed,” she said, her tone even and filled with conviction. “But we knew this day would come. We’re stronger now. If demons find us, we’ll simply show them we’ve grown a backbone, and that we don’t need their counsel or their manly protection.”

Darcy shrugged, but her green eyes still flashed with fire. “I don’t think we’ll bring bad luck if we ask for intervention and cast a banishing spell. I vote we meet tonight.”

The others glanced around their circle and slowly raised their hands. Four to one.

Bryn sighed. They had no leader, no high priestess, so majority ruled—a policy they’d adopted the moment they’d fled upper Michigan.

Tonight, they’d meet under the blue moon.

And while she’d scoffed at Miren’s and Aoife’s attempts at aeromancy, she felt a little guilty withholding her own confusing portent that had invaded her dreams the night before. The cloud above them wasn’t shaped like a scimitar or a scythe. If her dream was right, it was a penis. The dream filtered through her mind again…

Moonlight gleamed through curtains. Large, callused hands stroked over her back and buttocks as the man in her bed waited while she sank slowly on his cock.

She’d felt the pressure inside her, smelled his earthy musk. But while moonlight illuminated his brawny frame, his face had remained in shadow.

She’d interpreted the sex as meaning that her privacy was about to be invaded. That she’d be tempted to set aside her vow to remain celibate and autonomous while she constructed a self-sufficient life.

But the intimacy of the dream could also mean she’d been alone long enough. The company of her sisters couldn’t fulfill her innate need as one connected to the circle of life, to Gaia the mother—the need to bear children. Children would ensure their future as a coven.

Perhaps the fact she’d been unable to see his face meant that any man might serve her need. When they’d fled their previous life, they’d foresworn true love because a witch could only know love once in her lifetime. A human male could provide his seed, but only a demon could hold her heart. The danger of mating with a demon, of becoming enslaved to his desires, was too dangerous to her freedom.

Reaching into her pocket to rub the amethyst, she concentrated on her blessings—on her sisters and this quiet place, on all the bounty they had brought to the community with their works. Her finger warmed the stone, and it began to vibrate, sending warmth up her arm and through her shoulder before spreading down into chest.

Calm again, she squared her shoulders and stared across the water at the ferry bringing the first wave of strangers. Perhaps she’d been too quick to paint their arrival as something black and ominous. She’d wait and see. And tonight, when her small coven drew down the moon, she’d offer a small prayer to the Goddess for a sign.

Lavender

When distilled, a few drops of lavender oil on a pillow aid sleep. Her lavender oil scented candles also sell well. Sometimes Viola uses it to make flavoring sachets, but it also sells well when distilled and marketed as an insect repellant.

Even the fiercest warriors love a rub down with lavender oil. It eases the pain from their aching muscles. Afterwards though, they’re not very keen on the girly smell.

Mint

Mint tea is almost everyone’s favorite. Just steep a few mint leaves in boiling water and strain. Not only is the infusion a natural decongestant, but it’s good for the digestion. Best of all, it tastes good.

Rosemary

An infusion of rosemary gives dark hair a wonderful shine. It improves the memory and helps combat muscle pain.

Saffron

Saffron helps asthma sufferers and loosens phlegm. It also boosts the body’s immune system.

Even Tempest, heroine of Claimed by the Vampire, Seduced by the Werewolf, grows these. Sadly, her magic isn’t the greatest and something always goes wrong. Like the time she summoned an ancient Spartan Vampire, or the time her demon death spell tickled her attackers. If her vampire and her werewolf hadn’t joined forces to defeat them, she’d have been real trouble. Such a shame they hate each other.

*~*~*

Claimed by the Vampire, Seduced by the Werewolf

After seven centuries, Elias, a former Spartan turned vampire, finds his eternal bride.

Seth, Elias’s werewolf half-brother, scents his mate.

Vampire and werewolf loathe each other. The only thing they agree on is that Tempest is their mate–and they’re not sharing.

A prophecy will force Tempest, a twenty-first-century witch, to choose between them. As the half-brothers vie to win her heart, they teach her about spanking, the way pain heightens pleasure, and the joy of multiple orgasms.

A vampire can’t survive without his fated bride. A werewolf dies if he loses his mate. Their future rests in Tempest’s hands. Which one will she choose?

• Note: While loosely linked to the Scattered Siblingsseries, this book may be read as a standalone story

Buy links
Loose id: https://app.bitly.com/BebnjNZnvC8/bitlinks/2pFyQ5Z
Amazon USA: http://amzn.to/2pLmmK4
Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/2pd1Hvt
Kobo: http://bit.ly/2qBMdl5
Barnes and Noble: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/claimed-by-the-vampire-seduced-by-the-werewolf-kryssie-fortune/1126320331?ean=9781682523636

*~*~*

About Kryssie

Kryssie Fortune writes the sort of hot sexy books she loves to read. If she can sneak a dragon into her paranormal books she will. Her paranormal heroes are muscular werewolves, arrogant Fae, or BDSM loving dragons.

Kryssie likes her contemporary heroes ex-military and dominant. Her heroines are kick ass females who can hold their own against whatever life – or Kryssie – throws at them.

Kryssie’s pet hates are unhappy endings, and a series that end on a cliff hanger.
Her books are all stand-alone even when part of series. Plot always comes before sex, but when her heroines and heroes get together, the sex is explosive and explicit. One review called it downright sensual.

Media Links
Website: http://kryssiefortune.wixsite.com/kryssie
Blog: http://kryssiefortune.blogspot.co.uk/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/KryssieFortune
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/KryssiesFortune
Pinterest:  http://bit.ly/1OGFnjc
Goodreads: http://bit.ly/2kxqabJ
Amazon Author Page: http://amzn.to/2hA0ZVO

*~*~*

Excerpt from Claimed by the Vampire, Seduced by the Werewolf

Accepting his offer of coffee had been stupid. She knew that now. Eyes closed, she tried to picture Elias. Major fail. Her confused emotions showed Seth cradling her in his arms. She shouldn’t lust after him, not with Elias waiting for her at home.

Seth’s delicious scent—all fast-flowing rivers overlaid with the scent of ripening corn—pulled her in like a lure. His solid muscles made her want to run her hand down his torso. She loved his dimpled smile and kept stealing glances at his tempting lips. Part of her wanted to taste him right back. Damn it, I’m not a sleep-around kind of girl. With Seth, her wicked intentions punched a hole in her good-girl persona.

Determined to resist him, she shoved at his shoulder. Undeterred, he lowered his head toward hers. She ran her tongue over her lips and puckered up for him. Surely one kiss—one tiny taste—won’t hurt. Leaning toward him, she buried her hands in his curls and tugged him closer. He smiled as he moved in for his kiss, a butterfly caress that whetted her appetite and made her greedy for more. Kissing Seth seemed sensual and abandoned, a taste of forbidden fruit she couldn’t resist. Didn’t want to, really. One gentle sweep of his tongue over the seam of her lips, and she opened for him, inviting him into the damp heat of her mouth. Another moan escaped her, soft, low, and desperate. She needed him inside her, screwing her hard.

Pulling back, he cupped her cheek and gazed down at her face. His intensity, his need, and his determination to claim her showed in his eyes. She’d never felt so alive—and excluding last night—so desperate for sex.

As if in slow motion, he lowered his lips back to hers, plundering her mouth for kisses the way a pirate did treasure, and slid one arm beneath her thighs. He rose to his feet and sat her, legs open, on the table. She supported herself by putting her hands behind her as her legs dangled over the edge.

Seth shoved her skirt up her thighs, stood between her legs, and untied the bow on her blouse. The unadulterated joy in his gaze made her think of a little boy unwrapping a long-awaited Christmas present.

Thank the Goddess I’m wearing my raciest bra and panties. Her pulse rate rocketed as Seth kissed his way down her neck and ran his tongue over her breasts. It felt raspy and rough over her skin.

A needy shiver ran down her spine as he slid her blouse from her shoulders and unfastened her bra. She sat with her skirt pulled over her thighs and her torso bared for Seth’s delight. Forgetting everything except the deliciously sinful man who held her with reverent intent, she curled her arms around his neck. He’d protected her in the parking garage, comforted her, and now his lips dominated her into sweet submission. Head spinning, she clutched at his shoulders. Her pussy filled with her intimate juices, and her nipples stood like scarlet beads atop her generous breasts.

“More,” she gasped. “I need more. Make it hurt.”

I’ve got a new series starting with The Dark War and it’s about witches!

I’ve always been fascinated by the idea of mythical witches. Like the ones who have magic abilities, can sometimes fly, and are powerful supernaturals in their own right. In fact, if I had to choose what type of supernatural creature I’d like to be, it would be a witch. And I’d use my powers for mostly good…probably…I mean, come one…magic powers…

In honor of my newest release I thought I’d list some of my favorite witchy things, in no particular order.

• Practical Magic is one of the best witch movies EVER! I have probably watched it a million times. Give me a quote, any quote from the movie and I can tell you when it happened and who said it. What I love about this movie is not only the idea of a witch family that sticks together but also that it confronts issues of discrimination and originality. Great messages, great cast, powerful women. Love it. In fact, I think I should go watch it right now…
• Witch tattoos…I have a few, but my favorite one is my Wicked Witch of the West because I got it for my son. He loves the Wicked Witch of the West and he has watched The Wizard of Oz so many times that he can recite all of her lines as well as reenact her parts. He’s five now but he’s been doing this for years. I just had to get a tattoo for him.
• The Witching Hour by Anne Rice is one of the first witch books I read (not counting the childhood books I adored like The Good Little Witch). Rice creates a family of witches with a rich history in a house that I hope one day I’ll get to see, one that she used to own in the Garden District. It’s a hefty book but so worth the read.
• Salem, Massachusetts is an awesome place to travel to. I went there when I was pregnant with my daughter and fell in love with the atmosphere. Everything caters to the witch history and Halloween and there’s a ghostly charm that you just won’t find anywhere else. Even the police badges have a witch flying on a broomstick!
• American Horror Story -Coven is another great viewing experience. It’s dark, disturbing and the storytelling is awesome. Anything that depicts women in powerful roles intrigues me and this is a series that I’ve watched a few times already.

Of course there are many more examples I could list but then things would get a bit crazy here. If you’re like me and you find the supernatural witch intriguing and you’re interested in seeing a powerful woman kick some serious ass then you’ll like The Dark War.

I’m giving away a $20 Amazon GC – enter the rafflecopter for your chance to win! 

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The Dark War

As the darkness rises, magic is their only defense—if it doesn’t end the world.

The Dark War, Book 1

Witch. Hunter. Traitor. Kali Richards’s solitary life’s work is to hunt the evildoers of her own kind and bring them to justice. She’s poised to catch her latest bounty when she realizes her quarry is a witch-vampire hybrid with a taste for blood—Kali’s blood.

She’s lost quite a lot of it when Wyatt, the ex who still owns the pieces of her shattered heart, comes to her rescue. Eight years apart hasn’t cooled her anger over their breakup. Neither has it cooled the desire still steaming between them.

As Wyatt heals her wounds, he brings disturbing news: Kali’s mother has awakened from a years-long coma with a prophecy on her lips. A Dark War is coming that will pit supernatural against human. Kali is the key to stopping it.

Except Kali isn’t what you’d call adept at spellcasting. Like it or not, she needs a lot of help. From Wyatt, and from the organization that she turned her back on once before—the Witch Hunter’s Union. Even with an army at her back, she’s in for one hell of a ride…

Warning: May contain a stubborn little kick-ass witch, a wickedly sexy ex-boyfriend and a whole lot of hybrid trouble

About the Author

Every day is Halloween for author Angela Addams. Enthralled by the paranormal at an early age, Angela spends most of her time thinking up new story ideas that involve supernatural creatures in everyday situations. She has also been known to dabble in dark thrillers. She believes that the written word is an amazing tool for crafting the most erotic of scenarios.

She is an avid tattoo collector, a total book hoarder and loves anything covered in chocolate…except for bugs.

She lives in Ontario, Canada in an old, creaky house, with her husband and children.

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