Tuesday, October 31, 2017

Halloween Party

It's finally here! One of my favorite times of the year has finally arrived, and I'm super excited!

I know I shared this song last year, but it's still the first Halloween song that comes to mind for me. Though if we're looking for the spookiest song and video, there's no competition for me.

I still get the heebie jeebies just listening to this song. Add the video and...yikes! 

And now that we've had some tricks...it's time for the treats! I recently went through and cleared out my book collection (big move coming up soon, so trying to downsize to make things easier). From spooky happenings to sexy paranormals, these books have a little something for everyone. Good luck and have a Happy Halloween!

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Monday, October 30, 2017

Son of the Moon Book Blast

In Nysa, Alexander the Great and time traveling journalist Ashley find their abducted son Paul being worshiped as ""the son of the moon"". Knowing she can’t change history and that Alexander’s kingdom will be torn apart when he dies, Ashley must make the terrible decision to leave her firstborn son in the sacred valley.

Alexander presses on to India, where he and Ashley are welcomed with feasts - and treachery.  They struggle through monsoons, face the might of Porus’s army, and outwit deadly Brahmin rebels. Facing the reality of Alexander’s looming death, Ashley considers the unthinkable - How to save him, and the consequences of cheating the Fates. Book III in the Time for Alexander series"

Alexander opened his eyes very wide. “Me? Me? I did that? You weren’t even there. Do you want to know what you can do with me?” He leered. “Tell me some more stories about sex-mad queens and priestesses. They sound quite entertaining, but wait until we’re alone. I don’t want to miss a word you say.”

I narrowed my eyes. “If I find out that that you...”

“If I what?” he asked cheerfully.

I didn’t answer. I was looking over his shoulder at a figure in the distance. He must have seen the look on my face because he whirled around. For a moment he didn’t move. Then he dug his heels into Bucephalus’s sides, and, with a wild whoop, galloped madly down the dusty road leaving me staring after him with a bemused expression.

Chiron wriggled on my back and started to whine. I dropped my reins and unhooked the backpack, pulling him around to my chest. Holding the baby in front of me, I said to him, “There goes my husband, rushing to greet his best friend whom he hasn’t seen in over three months - his best friend who just happens to be your daddy.”

I spoke in English. I didn’t think anyone else would quite understand the complexities of the situation, which I’d already edited for Chiron’s ears. The soldiers around me thought I said blessings. Chiron waved and gurgled happily at my breast. All he was interested in was milk. I could never understand why Chiron seemed to be the only human being who didn’t mind Alexander’s singing. It made most babies turn purple and scream. At first I was worried that he was deaf, but then I realized Chiron was just a little oddball. He would probably turn into one of those weird kids who love broccoli and algebra.

The sun shined, the flags flapped merrily, the soldiers sang, and the Indus River, huge, brown, and deceptively sluggish, flowed like caramel by our sides.

We were in India!

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Don’t forget to visit the other stops on the tour.

Author Bio and Links:
Jennifer Macaire lives in France with her husband, three children, & various dogs & horses. She loves cooking, eating French chocolate, growing herbs and flowering plants on her balcony, and playing golf. She grew up in upstate New York, Samoa, and the Virgin Islands. She graduated from St. Peter and Paul high school in St. Thomas and moved to NYC where she modeled for five years for Elite. She went to France and met her husband at the polo club. All that is true. But she mostly likes to make up stories.

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Sunday, October 29, 2017

Update and a Surprise

Hi y'all!

I know it's been a while, but I promise I'm still around. I've been sticking to blog tours in the past few months due to all the craziness going on in my life. I've been going through and preparing for some major life changes, one of which is I'm finally graduating this December! So between working, finishing school, looking for a job, and everything else going on, I've been stretched a little thin, hence why I didn't do a month-long celebration for Halloween this year. However, that doesn't mean I don't have a few tricks and treats up my sleeve. So tune back in this Tuesday for a Halloween treat!

Thursday, October 26, 2017

All Inclusive VBT

A story about an all-inclusive resort, the ghost of an unknown father, and the tragedies we can’t forget.

What’s it like when everyone’s dream vacation is your job? Ameera works at a Mexican all-inclusive resort, where every day is paradise — if “paradise” means endless paperwork, quotas to meet, and entitled tourists. But it’s not all bad: Ameera’s pastime of choice is the swingers scene, and the resort is the perfect place to hook up with like-minded couples without all the hassle of having to see them again.

Despite Ameera’s best efforts to keep her sideline a secret, someone is spreading scandalous rumours about her around the resort, and her job might be at stake. Meanwhile, she’s being plagued by her other secret, the big unknown of her existence: the identity of her father and why he disappeared. Unbeknownst to Ameera, her father, Azeez, is looking for her, and they both must come to terms with the reason why he abandoned her.

A moving new work from award-winning author Farzana Doctor, All Inclusive blurs the lines between the real world and paradise, and life and death, and reminds us that love is neither easily lost nor found.

March 27, 2015, Huatulco, Mexico

A DC8 droned above.

“Here they come,” I announced. Friday was our departure-arrival day. One sunburned and grouchy group left for their northern homes, and another cohort, ecstatic and pale, touched down and took their place.

Roberto grabbed a plastic file-box and gestured for me to sit beside him. I lowered myself onto the makeshift seat and wiped away a slick of perspiration from the creases behind my knees.

“Ameera, you hear about that tour rep getting fired over at Waves?” Roberto stroked his thin moustache.

“Nancy? Yeah, I’m still in shock.” I hadn’t known her well, but I’d gone clubbing with her and the other tour reps from our sister resorts a few times. She’d seemed all right to me. The airplane circled closer, and, in unison, we clapped our hands over our ears and tilted our chins to the sky. After it had rolled across the tarmac and quieted its engines, we resumed our gossip.

“What I don’t get is why someone in their late twenties would want to have sex with a fifteen-year-old.” Roberto shook his head, as though trying to dislodge the idea.

“But didn’t the kid lie about his age? He told her he was eighteen, right?” While I’d never in a million years sleep with a teenager, I could imagine how booze and loneliness could have led Nancy to her mistake.

Do You Believe in Ghosts?

It’s almost Hallowe’en! This is one of my favourite holidays, not just because I’m sugar-addicted, but because I love to dress up. I have a tickle trunk full of scary masks and silly wigs.

But I also love the holiday because it’s a time of year when the veil between the mundane and the spirit worlds thins. I like to imagine this veil as always being somewhat porous. It’s probably why I often include splashes of magical realism in my work.

My latest novel, All Inclusive has a ghost character, Azeez, who helped me write the book. Yes, you read that right.

At a time when I didn’t know how to complete the book, I heard a voice in my head telling me that he was my missing character. He told me his story, and the following weeks, I wrote down his narration, effortlessly. I can tell you that a spirit was feeding me his story because normally writing doesn’t come this easy.

Other writers will tell you similar stories about hearing entire stories and poems, and feeling as though there are just a typist, recording words. I’ve often felt that pieces of all of my books have arrived this way. I wish it was more than just pieces!

Might it be possible that this is where all stories are born, whether the author knows or acknowledges it? And would it help writers listen better if they did believe in ghosts?

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Don’t forget to visit the other stops on the tour.

Author Bio and Links:
Farzana Doctor is the author of three novels: Stealing Nasreen, Six Metres of Pavement (which was a 2012 Lambda Literary Award and the 2017 One Book One Brampton winner) and the recently released All Inclusive which was a Kobo and National Post Best Book of the Year. Farzana was named one of CBC Books’ “Ten Canadian Women Writers You Need to Read Now”. She is also a Registered Social Worker with a part-time psychotherapy practice. She curates the Brockton Writers Series.

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Buy links:
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Wednesday, October 25, 2017

Sweet Dreams Baby Review Tour

Who killed Judge Shaw Buchanan aka “the hanging judge,” on the day of his wife’s funeral? When Harper Buchanan, the judge’s estranged daughter, witnesses her father’s murder in the small town of Barley, New Hampshire, she promises to find his escaped killer. She hires local private investigator, Finn O’Rourke to track down the shooter. Soon, they are working together, and Harper finds herself drawn to Finn’s looks, smarts, and self-reliance. But she’s fallen for the wrong type of man before. She vows not to repeat her mistake and to keep their relationship professional.

Finn does his best to deal with their growing chemistry by focusing on the job. But when someone attempts to kill Harper to prevent her from uncovering the identity of her father’s murderer, his goal changes. Harper’s protection becomes Finn’s full-time priority, even though it means risking his life for a woman who may never love him.

“Leave or I’ll shoot you. You’ll be the next customer earmarked for eternal rest.”

Harper Buchanan shut her mouth in the middle of accepting condolences as her father’s steel-toned voice traveled from the hall into the crowded reception room of Smitty’s Funeral Parlor.

At five-ten, she was easily able to scan the faces of shocked grievers and assess the situation. She’d spent the last two days trying to be a good daughter by making sure her mother received a “heavenly” goodbye. Now, the morning teetered on the verge of going to hell.

She inhaled a sharp breath that filled her lungs with the scent of the flowers decorating the shelves behind her mother’s closed coffin. Nausea rumbled in her stomach. But she didn’t have time to be sick. Her father, Judge Shaw Buchanan, was close to out of control.

Staying away from Judge Buchanan on his “dark days” was one of the first things new interns at the courthouse learned to do, usually the hard way. His work friends and acquaintances knew better than to approach him in his present mood. They’d come here out of their respect and admiration for a man who upheld the law and handed out stiff punishments.

So that left her to handle him. Once her dad flew into a rage, nothing but time and distance cooled his anger. She had to stop him before he reached that point.

My Review:
4 stars

To start, I greatly enj0yed the characters. However, I wasn’t a fan of Harper’s dad, so I wasn’t really upset at his death, even though I felt (and character’s acted) like I should have been. That was a letdown, but the other characters helped make up for this, as I felt they were well developed and enjoyable, especially Finn and Harper. I loved their chemistry, which made me want to smack them upside the head and yell, “THIS IS LOVE!” Or at least potentially is. But really. I hope this turns into a series as I would like to see more stories featuring these two.

The other aspect I enjoyed was the overall mystery, as it kept me constantly guessing. I would be able to predict something and think I had it all figured out, only for a twist to pop up and surprise me. And yet the twists never felt gratuitous or over-the-top, which I enjoyed. However, the suspense to me wasn’t as entertaining as the whodunit, as I felt the story could drag a little at times when the suspense let down. But overall, both the characters and plot were engaging and made this a read I couldn’t put down.

*I received a copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.*

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Don’t forget to visit the other stops on the tour.

Author Bio and Links:
Nora grew up in rural New Hampshire, picking blueberries in her backyard and wandering the woods with her brothers. Now that she’s older, she still lives in rural New Hampshire and enjoys writing stories. She was first published in 2000 and has written historical romances, contemporary romance, romantic suspense and mystery. She is a co-founder of the New Hampshire Romance Writers chapter, which meets monthly at the Bow Library. Here she enjoys great speakers and the company of fabulous authors.

When not writing, Nora spends time with her family, sews quilts, gardens and takes road trips to anywhere fun.

Website     |     Facebook     |     Goodreads     |     Amazon Author Page

Monday, October 23, 2017

Set You Free Review Tour

Deena is running from a dangerous past.  When she finds herself in a small fishing village tucked away on the banks of the Chesapeake Bay, she thinks she is finally safe. While there, she discovers a journal that weaves a story of secrets, passion, and unrequited love.  In its pages, she discovers the answers to her struggle with the shadows of her own past.  In the end, those shadows close in on her and threaten all that she holds dear.

NOTE:  The book is on sale for $0.99

I am one of the walking dead. Not as lucky as those flesh-eating monsters that roam the earth eternally. No, my flesh-eating monster lives within. It roams at will, minute by minute. Consuming me from the inside. Stealing what little life is left. My monster? The Big C. Advanced stages. No treatment. What do you do when you’re a nobody from a little nowhere town who’s accomplished nothing and has no family? What do you do when you’re told to “put your affairs in order” and you have no affairs? What do you do when the sum and total of your legacy is secrets and lies?

I can still see it as if it were yesterday. Pastor Tompkins at the pulpit. A warm summer Sunday. A packed house of mostly drowsy parishioners. His fist hammered the pulpit. “And Jesus declared, ‘The truth will set you free.’” People amening and nodding in agreement. My father nodding, mostly from exhaustion. Church was his nap time. Pastor Tompkins wasn’t known for his stirring sermons, but all the thumping on the pulpit that day caught my dad and a few others between peace in God and peaceful sleep.

As a teenage boy, I didn’t spend much time listening in church. If Pastor Tompkins was right and God’s elect were “long-suffering,” I figured I had a special place in heaven just from sitting through his sermons. Usually I entertained myself by watching other people. There was Miss Jessup, an old spinster, who snuck romance novels into the service and read with the book hidden in the hymnal. Or Mr. Wilmar, a failed artist who now stocked shelves in the grocery store. He pretended to take notes during the services, his head nodding in agreement and his pencil moving quickly in his notebook. He sat in the pew in front of me and I would catch glimpses of his notes. He would sketch unflattering caricatures of the good pastor. Once in a while, they’d make brief appearances on the church bulletin board until they were discovered and removed. But during my senior year of high school, I mostly spent my time studying the profile of a sixteen-year-old girl who sat with her father two rows up and across the aisle. She had soft flowing curls that cascaded over her shoulders and glowed in the sunlight that streamed through the stained-glass windows. Sometimes she’d glance back and catch me watching. When she did, I’d snap my attention to the pulpit and pretend to be listening. I hoped she didn’t notice the color rising in my face. Her first day in church, her father caught her glancing toward me. There in church, I saw her wilt in the heat of his glare.

That’s why I remember that particular sermon. It was the irony of it all. Truth, lies, and secrets. In a small town, there are only two types of secrets: the ones everybody knows and the ones everybody will soon know. The not-too-well-kept secret was that her daddy was a mean drunk. The adults all knew it, and it wasn’t long before I knew it too. I still cringe at what that glare would mean for her.

My Review:
4 stars

I greatly enjoyed this story, though I will admit it was a bit odd and quirky at times. However, I found that for the most part, this just made me enjoy it more.

To start, I enjoyed the plot and the suspense in the story. The suspense was consistent and kept me turning pages through the entire book, and while I was able to predict some of what happened, I still found a few surprises along the way. In addition, the story is very detailed as the author spends time building up his world and characters, something which can sometimes be lacking in suspenses. At times, this caused the story to drag a bit, but overall I much preferred having more details rather than fewer.

My favorite part was the characters though. This is where the story became quirky, and while this can take away at times, here it worked. No, it excelled. I could envision all the characters as real people, with varying and interesting personalities, even the background characters. I truly was engaged in learning about these characters and in what happened to them next.

However, be aware there are some touchy topics dealt with (such as religion). I personally did not consider it a big problem, but if that bothers you, you may not want to read this. Overall though, I thought this was an engaging story that any suspense fan would enjoy.

*I received a copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.*

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Author Bio and Links:
Elmer Seward was born and raised along the Chesapeake Bay in southeast Virginia.  Growing up, the cemetery behind his house was his playground.  The metaphorical theme of death and rebirth that figures prominently in his novels is probably influenced in some way by the time that his mother heard, through the screened window, a small voice crying for help.  Rushing from the house and through the yard, she discovered her all-too-curious six-year-old son at the bottom of a freshly dug grave.  In that moment, he discovered that trouble is much easier to get into than it is to get out of.  Sometimes we need help getting out of the hole that we jump into willingly.

He is blessed to have a large blended family and is the reluctant servant of three crazy dogs, a Maltese, a Japanese Chin, and a BruMaltChiYorkie.  All of these strongly influence the characters and events in his novels; however, his beautiful wife, Mitzi, is the true inspiration for the tender hearted but determined women in his stories.

Set You Free is Elmer’s third novel. His previous novels are Hearts in the Storm and Dreams of the Sleepless.

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Buy Links:
Amazon Author Page     |     Set You Free

Thursday, October 19, 2017

The Chaos Stories NBtM

Here you'll find nine new short-stories, some which have been from my life, or things that could have happened. One is inspired from the many games of Dungeons and Dragons I've played over twenty years while another is from the Call of Cthulhu role-playing game. Some are even some from other authors, who kindly contributed to my collection.

As a treat for fans of my series, I have included six deleted chapters, two from each of the three Newfoundland Vampire novels, which have been all cleaned up and have been made better than ever for your reading pleasure.

I have also included not one, but two chapters from the upcoming fourth book in the Newfoundland Vampire series, War of the Fangs. I've filled this collection with tales that will make you laugh, or will scare you, and will hopefully make you think a little about the world around us and the people in it.

"I'm not leaving you behind, no man gets left behind, GET MOVING!" Marlon screamed the last part at the top of his lungs and they bolted forward. It wasn't easy with all the roots and holes in the ground. Larry fell once as did Marlon, painfully twisting his ankle so that now Larry had to help him but they moved on, spotting one mark on a tree and chalk on another. The mist had started to rise, it was at their ankles now.

"Mar I can't feel my feet, it feels as if I'm running on blocks of ice.  We need to get out!" Marlon looked about frantically, the trees were still thick, he couldn't see the tall grass from where they had started this morning. Everything felt tight, his chest felt like it was going to explode, his heart felt like it would leap out through his throat at any second. The trees seems to be closing in on them, he felt like he was back in France, just waiting for the first bullet to split the air.

Marlon looked down for a second, legs are numb up to my knees but somehow I'm moving, I don't feel the pain in my ankle. "We'll get out, you are the best woodsman I've ever seen. I know you can do it." Larry nodded and Marlon was glad to see a small smile creep onto one side of his face, he pointed with his right arm to a mark, an arrow pointing to the east, the way they were going. You better be, he thought, I'll be damned if I die in a forest by some mist, I made it out of the war, I'll make it out of here!

The Value of an Outline

It is one of those simple things you learn in school early on (at least I did), the importance of an outline for a story. The funny part is that for all my time in high school and university (I have a Bachelor in English and a Masters in Education) I never bothered to do an outline. It was only the past six years when I started novels that I finally saw the benefit of it. When you have an idea for a novel/short story/blog post/whatever you just want to go with it, get it down as fast as possible. What I have discovered though is that once you get the first few chapters done you need to come up with a plan, you need to know where you’re going and as the writing continues, where you’ve been.

At first I was content just have an outline which contained four things, chapter titles, dates when the story happened, a brief description of the chapter and of course the chapter order. I found that by always at least having ideas for two or three chapters ahead I had an idea where the story was going and it always gave me something to think about in terms of scenes, characters and the storyline in general. What I’ve discovered though, with the help of my most excellent editor Heather at Reilly Books, is that it helps a great deal also to have a detailed outline. A detailed outline contains all of the above but also describes briefly every event, small or big, that happens in each chapter. Why go to this level of detail you ask? Consistency, logical flow and evenness of the storyline and characters in your story is something that may be hard to keep straight otherwise.

Two examples from my own experiences: when I wrote my first novel “The Newfoundland Vampire” I just had a basic outline. It gave me an idea of what happened in each chapter but with editing and changes I lost track of a couple of things. The sequence of days, while it may not sound important, if you’re going to have your characters follow the regular week that it has to be correct, otherwise readers will become frustrated and taken out the story. Another thing I missed was the time of day that the sun would set, for a vampire novel that’s important. Without a detailed outline I had the sun setting at the wrong time for September and it needed to be changed to October. When I wrote my second novel “Killer on the Road” I spent a few hours and did an outline for the entire novel. I had an idea now of where the story will go and a plan. As I completed each chapter I added to the more detailed outline discussed above. As a result when it came to edit book 2 I ended up doing just 7 drafts instead of 16 and almost all the details flowed smoothly. In later books (book 3 "The Gathering Dark" and my latest "The Chaos Stories") doing an outline was just second nature.  Of course for my latest book the outline was much different (and smaller) as the chapters from my vampire series had already been done. Mainly for my first short-story collection the outline was a way to organize it, see where the stories should be, the deleted chapters and the works from other authors.

While writing is a creative process, I have found it invaluable to be organized when it comes to writing anything you want to collect and make available to the public. For my latest collection I grouped together stories based on whether they were connected (four of them are) and if they had similar themes (some are sci-fi, others just fiction). If you are going to create your own world it needs to make sense and outlines (at least one) make sense to me.

Don’t forget to visit the other stops on the tour.

Author Bio and Links:
Charles O’Keefe lives in the beautiful province of Newfoundland, Canada, with his wife and two feline ‘children,’ Jude and Eleanor. He is a part-owner of a beauty wholesale business. He enjoys many hobbies and activities that include reading, gaming, poker, Pilates, Dungeons and Dragons, and of course, fantasizing about vampires. Charles is the author of three books in the Newfoundland Vampire series, but this is his first collection of short-stories. Look for the fourth Newfoundland Vampire book sometime in the near future.

To find out more about Charles or his other books, go to Twitter and Facebook or visit his website.

Buy Links:
Amazon     |     Smashwords     |     Barnes and Noble

Wednesday, October 18, 2017

Light of the Spirit Tour


The gods never sleep…

As the mortal vessel for the Muse of Comedy, Lia Youlos lights up every room with laughter and smiles. But there are darker forces at work, and they want to snuff out her light forever.

Cooper Hanover is a hardworking paramedic who healed Lia after a fire, but something happened that day, something medical science couldn’t explain. And if he doesn’t figure out how it works soon, the next healing could kill him.

Lia’s smile and sharp wit tempt him to love again, and he’s not going to let anyone, not even the gods, take her from him.

The Prophecy“Every generation the nine daughters of Zeus are reborn, and with their rebirth are also nine Guardians. They will be marked by the gods, and given gifts to protect his treasure. Their abilities will only be unlocked when they find their muse.”

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When the first song came on, he took her hand, walking her over toward the
small arcade. He stopped in front of a Dark Knight pinball game.

She raised a brow. “I didn’t take you for a Batman fan.”

“I’m full of surprises.”

She wet her lips. “I like surprises.”

He dropped in quarters and stepped behind her, his lips brushing her neck just below her ear as he whispered, “Lucky me.” Cooper straightened up with a spark in his blue eyes. “Let’s do this.”

Lia’s heart was pounding with a heady mixture of arousal, adrenaline, and a hunger for victory. She’d never had this much fun on a date, and they just got here.

She pulled back the plunger and launched the silver, metal ball. Her eyes tracked its course under the glass as it bounced around, lighting up bonuses. She hit the ball with the flipper, squealing as it sailed back up into play.

The rest of the pizza parlor faded away as her focus narrowed to the game. She nailed the ball again, but out of the corner of her eye, Cooper lifted his shirt to wipe his forehead, exposing abs that would make even Batman jealous.

“What are you—” Before she could finish her sentence, the ball slipped past the flippers and into the hole at the bottom. Her jaw dropped. “You cheated.”

He shook his head, looking far from innocent as he pulled his shirt back down. “I was just wiping the sweat off my forehead. You’re really good at pinball.”

The twinkle in his eyes gave him away. Two could play that game.

She stepped aside, giving Cooper the player-two spot. He tugged the plunger back, and let silver ball go sailing. The digital score soared higher and higher. When he was within ten thousand points, she picked up her mug and fished out an ice cube, tracing her lips with it while she watched the ball under the glass.

Suddenly it zipped right between the flippers. She lifted her gaze to find Cooper gaping. “Okay, that was playing dirty.”

She grinned, popping the cube into her mouth. “Oh please, have you not seen yourself shirtless?”

He chuckled, shaking his head and stepping aside to make room, his voice a rough growl. “I’ve never been jealous of an ice cube before.”

“All’s fair in love and pinball, right?” She yanked the plunger back and sent the ball sailing back into play. She racked up the points, making contact with the ball three times before Cooper moved behind her, his big hands sliding possessively up her back to knead her shoulders.

The damned ball vanished into the hole between the flippers, and she didn’t give a rat’s ass. Lia’s eyes drifted closed, and she relaxed into him. “So unfair.”

He leaned down close to her ear. “Want me to stop?”

“Oh gods, no.”

His chest vibrated as he chuckled. “My turn, right?”

“Yes.” She sighed and stepped aside.

Cooper took over, hitting the buttons on the sides of the machine. His forearms were tight, strong. She’d never been turned on by games before, but damn. She was going to have to grab the pizza to go.

When his score neared hers, she slid her hand under the back of his shirt, tracing her fingernails up his back. A muscle in his cheek clenched as he struggled to keep his eye on the ball.

She pressed against his back and whispered, “I need you.”

He turned around and wrapped her in his arms. “’Bout damned time.” He fused his lips to hers, his tongue sliding into her mouth, teasing her senses.


He broke the kiss with a breathless chuckle. “I’m getting really sick of being interrupted.”



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Amazon    |    Paperback    |    B&N    |    Kobo    |    iTunes


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Lisa Kessler is a Best Selling author of dark paranormal fiction. She’s a two-time San Diego Book Award winner for Best Published Fantasy-Sci-fi-Horror and Best Published Romance. Her books have also won the PRISM award, the Award of Excellence, the National Excellence in Romantic Fiction Award, the Award of Merit from the Holt Medallion, and an International Digital Award for Best Paranormal.Her short stories have been published in print anthologies and magazines, and her vampire story, Immortal Beloved, was a finalist for a Bram Stoker award.

When she’s not writing, Lisa is a professional vocalist, and has performed with San Diego Opera as well as other musical theater companies in San Diego.

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