Thursday, October 28, 2010

Dragon's Grace 3rd Review!!

4.5 Tombstones from Bitten by Books

"For a sixty-page story Dragon’s Grace has a lot packed in. The world-crafting is very well-done, and I did not feel that I was missing background at all. " Emma D

Monday, October 25, 2010

The Problem with Muses

Why is it that as soon as your head hits the delicious fluffy pillow you waited all day for, your eyes drift close to enter a restful sleep, the brat with wings we writers call our muses perks up like a child on a sugar-high? Oh man, was mine ever on a sugar-adrenaline-caffeine high last night! The vicious little winged brat danced, jumped, cartwheeled all around my dreams and head for a solid hour. Wheedeled, cajoled, and crowed about how she knew way to get more punch in the current WiP I've been working on called Fire Moon Dance.

Exhausted, not to mention I would be facing a Monday morning, I pleaded with her to hold the news and ideas until later, and tried to push her away and burrow into sleep. Nope, there was no holding this adrenaline riddled winged brat. She tugged and pulled at me. Beautiful gorgeous sleep remained ever elusive. Tossing the sheet back, I rolled out of bed, yawned, tried not to stumble over a cat while I pulled the memory stick from my purse since that held all my precious writing files. Shuffling into the libary/office, I sat down hard and booted up the lap-top.

When the images and ideas began to flood my tired brain, I realized this wasn't going to be a simple note taking experience. While I waited for the screens to come up, I grabbed some iced-tea for a minor hit of caffeine to wake up my brain to and catch up to adrenaline-paced muse - though she was at tornado speed by this point. Sitting down again, I plugged in the memory stick, opened the WiP and went to the point she wanted.

She began to point out what was wrong. While I agreed with what she talked about - a huge majority of the book took place on one day and night - I wasn't sure about how she went about changing things. I blinked at her option. Break it up? How? Force another day in there?

::Why not? You have the space now? It's not a simple novella?:: she said, tapping little feet, fluttering wings. ::Break it up. Spread it out. Don't rush it.::

But won't I lose the momentum? The drama that was created? All those words and editing I slaved over.

::Do it!::

Slugging down another swallow of tea, I moved my finger on the pad to the chapter break and hit it. Then I started the new chapter, amazing the words flow more readily then I expected. It continued to flow until I finished the chapter and hit another chapter break.

By now the clock read after 11 pm. By this time, exhaustion dragged. I couldn't hold back sleep. Not even for my crazy muse. I begged for sleep. I saved and shut down. Dropped the stick back in the purse and curled into bed.

Yet, as I went to sleep. Pain in the ass muse gave me one more direction to change.

::Your Latino hero doesn't speak a lick of Spanish to the heroine in the book. You need to change that too. It'll make him different from the other hero.::

I'm seriously considering feeding her to the cats.

Friday, October 22, 2010

Demon Heart is Released!

Welcome to the little town of Maple, Maine where all paranormals are welcomed! Halloween is upon us!

Released October 22, 2010 for your pleasure and enjoyment from Breathless Press!


Can a fire demon bound to a ruby necklace find a way to love?  

Running errands before Halloween, a dazzling ruby necklace in a window display draws Constance Morelli into a store where she hears the tale of a demon bound as a sex slave by an evil sorceress. If she stands naked under the moonlight and repeats a spell, the demon will appear to grant every sexual desire she ever dreamt about. Not quite believing the story, but seeing a flame in the fire, she takes the jewel home and finds herself in possession of a naked demon hunk named Aramir.

After 4,000 years of dealing with various mistresses in one sexual way or another, Aramir knows what to expect when he appears in the moonlight. Only this mistress is different and he finds himself fed, clothed, and treated like a real man not a slave. What is a bound demon to do with such a lady?


"Holy cannoli, I can’t believe I’m doing this." Connie ran a hand over hair that ran in wild waves to her shoulders. Her dark forest gaze looked around the quiet, empty backyard somewhat secluded by the fence and huge old oak trees, climbing roses, and lilac bushes. Still, in a neighborhood as small as hers, she never knew when some old coot or horny teen stared out a window, binoculars pressed to their eyes to catch the latest gossip.

A cold nose pressed against her bare skin giving her a bit of a shock. Then a soft whine.

She looked down at the small chocolate lab and terrier mix she recently rescued from the local shelter and brought into her small home. Dropping a hand from where it had a chokehold on the white satin robe, she gave one silky brown ear a scratch.

"Do you think I’m nuts, Cocoa?"

As a baker, what else could she name the little brown and white dog except her favorite baking ingredient? Chocolate. Luckily, it fit the little mutt to perfection.

The dog tilted her head and barked once.

Constance sighed. "Thanks. I’ll take that under consideration."

The skinny tail swished and thumped against her leg.

 Warmth flooded her chest from the ruby flame. It gave her strength to open the robe, lay it over the wooden railing, and walk down to the grass. She looked up as the moon came out from behind the clouds to flood her lawn with the pure natural light.

 "This will either work or put me in the mental ward, Cocoa," Constance said.

 After a soft whine, the dog laid down, head on paws.

 "Thanks for the support, girl."

 A little woof left the dog as an ear flicked in her direction.

 Connie grinned. She cupped her hands around the necklace and lifted it from her skin. After another long inspection of the jewel, she watched the inner flame flicker under the natural light.

 Would this actually work?

 Standing nude in the moonlight, the necklace her only adornment, she clasped a hand around the flame, closed her eyes, and recited the words.

 There was no flash of light. No rumble of sound. The ground didn’t shake. No warm hands on her body.

 Her eyes opened. She looked around.

 Cocoa whined in question.

 "Well, Cocoa, that was a whole lotta nothing. I feel like a complete idiot." Constance moved toward the patio and snagged the robe. "At least I got a beautiful necklace out of the deal. It’ll go great with my outfit for the dance."

 She lifted it again, only this time, something was different.

 The jewel was darker. It felt empty.

 Cocoa growled, low and nasty.

 "You called me to your bed, milady?"

 Spinning, pressing the robe to her front, Constance’s jaw dropped at the sight of the six-foot-three-inch naked male standing at the base of the porch. Not just any male, but a true blue hunk of walking sex.

 "Oh my…" she squeaked.

Monday, October 4, 2010

Dragon's Sanity is Released!

Dragon’s Sanity  Book 2 McDrakken Warriors

Lyrical Press, Inc. (

Can an amnesiac warrior recover his memories in time to find his missing love and help his entire race?

      The red dragon warrior appeared out of a storm, a traumatic injury, leaving him only with the memory of the name of Jackson. Suffering from agonizing seizures, he dreams and draws intricate portraits of the same ethereal woman.

       After a making his way across the snowy lands to the remote cabin he’s seen in his dreams, Jackson tries to unlock the door of memories to discover who he--and the woman haunting his vision--are.

       Will the angelic face of his dreams be the one to open the door or will the darkness of his missing past overwhelm any chance of love and recovery?

 Content Warning: A sexy dragon warrior chivalrous to the core. He can just as easily handle a sword, a drawing pencil, or skim a finger over a woman’s body. An evil Councilor’s defiance against destiny and a beloved leader.


       Jackson hissed when her fingers drifted away from his thigh. Unable to let go of the tentative provocative connection, he took hold of her hand. Lifting it, his thumb brushed against her fingertips. Staring at the various palm lines, he traced a forefinger down the creases. Though her hand was soft and feminine, he found evidence of the hard work it took to upkeep the cabin and land at the base of her fingers.

       A shiver raced up the arm he held. Lifting her hand, he pressed his lips lightly to the tips. His tongue slipped out to touch her skin. When a gasp left her, he looked up and met Marissa’s eyes.

        “Mari, I… It’s been a while,” he whispered.

        “Ssh,” she said, pressing her other fingers to his mouth to shush him. “I understand. I’ve wanted you since you walked inside my home.”

       His eyes widened at her answer, and he looked at the area around them. He brushed back the papers and gently drew her down to the lush, thick rug warmed by the fire. He heard a growl from Snow. Snarling back, Jackson grinned when the dog trotted off.

 Available from Lyrical Press, Inc.