Apr 29, 2013

In the Spotlight - Cindy Jacks




Prior to becoming a writer of romantic and erotic fiction, Cindy went to college at the University of Hawaii at Manoa and graduated with a BFA in Art. After a brief attempt at an art career, she decided the ‘starving artist’ life wasn’t for her. She worked for ten years in the corporate arena, but now spends her days as a full time author.

Her first published work--The Point of Distraction Series--was inspired by a collection of short stories she wrote to entertain her best friend. Since then she's explored her inner bad girl, producing books full of humor and packed with real emotion.

When not chained to her laptop, she enjoys belly dancing, international cooking, and making jewelry. She and her family make their home in the Washington, DC area.


IMHO, there is no other step that will make or break a novel like character development. Skimp on it and the book doesn't hold together. Become inconsistent with it and the plot falls apart as well. I write character driven as opposed to plot driven books so this step to me is crucial.

Who are these people you're going to spend several weeks to several months writing about? How do you get to know them better? What do you do when one just won't cooperate? Oh, trust me it happens. It ALWAYS happens. But it's one of the joys of writing. In a small way, watching a character blossom is similar to watching a child take its first steps. But how to get to that point?

The first thing I do is try to envision my characters--what do they look like? How do they dress? Why do they dress that way? Granted, you shouldn't judge a book by its cover, but whether we want to admit it or not, the public face one chooses to present to the world sends the world a message. So what message is my character trying to send?

Now when it comes to the hero, I'm a little limited by my genre. Apparently, no one wants to read about hot monkey love with a short balding, paunchy hero. So in general I know my hero has to be tall, in good shape, a pleasant to look at. However, I can play with how he chooses to display his obvious good looks Does he try to downplay them? Is he a peacock? Is he rugged and outdoorsy? Does he prefer a slicker, more metrosexual look?

Once I've nailed down what the hero and heroine look like, I develop their backstory. That's all the stuff that I know have happened to these folks that you may or may not ever read about in the actual novel. Also, it's usually things that have gone on in the character's past.

After the emotional baggage has been doled out, it's time to get down to the particulars: What is this characters favorite food? Drink? Movie? Music? What kind of car does he/she drive? Does he/she like their car? What kind of home does he/she have? The more details you can pin down, the more realistic this person will seem. Characters preferences and why they prefer these things go a long way to telling the reader who they are.

In my new release, SAILOR’S KNOT, I had four major characters so this part of the writing process was quite the chore, but little by little Marcus, Nathaniel, Amelie and Ruby revealed themselves to me and I’m so pleased with the final product. I hope you are too ;)


The year is 2037 and the next generation of Logan family pirates have taken over the helm of The Yellow Rose. Running bootleg booze and smuggling runners from the Reformed States of America into the Republic of Texas, business couldn’t be better…that is, if brothers Marcus and Nathaniel don’t kill each other in the process.

Captain Marcus Logan is serious, brooding and haunted, carrying a torch for his first mate, Amelie. Nathaniel—the resident party boy—is none of those things, but somehow they’d made their differences work for them until recently. When tall, leggy blonde Captain Ruby Delaney is a guest aboard The Rose, she turns Nathaniel’s head and stirs up all sorts of trouble, not the least of which is winding up in Marcus’ bed one drunken night. This ill-advised one-night stand ignites a love quadrangle so intertwined that the phrase “it’s complicated” doesn’t begin to define this sailor’s knot.


Humiliation and admiration flooded Marcus with equal measure. Ruby was far craftier than he’d given her credit for. His earlier words to Nate echoed in his mind. He’d accused his brother of ineptitude when Marcus himself couldn’t tie a restraint that could hold her.

Shaking his head, he passed her the bottle. “Glad I could entertain you.”

“Aw, don’t be like that. I’m still trapped here.” She ran a hand over his sheets, leaning forward and spreading her legs a bit. “In your cabin.”

Bad girl. He arched an eyebrow. Usually he’d be immune to such an obvious overture, but in his current state, she was hard to ignore.

His cock stirred at the thought of her in his bed. Maybe it was the whiskey or maybe it was the fact that he hadn’t had a woman in… How long had it been? Several months at least. A smile crossed his lips. That barmaid in Belize. He usually steered clear of one-night stands, but she’d been so insistent, hadn’t she?

And his last relationship before that, over a year prior. It had lasted a couple of weeks at best. Sticking around wasn’t his forte. Not since— No, he wouldn’t think about Amelie anymore. Not with a beautiful blonde next to him. For once, couldn’t he do what any man would do in this situation? For once, couldn’t he give in to his base desires instead of suppressing them, struggling to keep them under control?

“You’re gorgeous when you smile.” Ruby intruded on his thoughts.

Marcus stared at her, weighing his options. Her full breasts rose and fell with every breath, her voluptuous thighs grazing past his leg as she shifted to make herself more comfortable. She smelled like his soap but there was an undercurrent of her own scent. Rich and sweet. He wanted to taste her.

“Are you flirting with me?” he asked, leaning closer.

“Obviously.” She licked her lips, meeting his hungry stare.

Scooting closer, she pressed her breasts to his arm. He dipped his head a little to the right. Her quick exhalations skimmed his cheek. She wouldn’t run away, disappear at the crucial moment. Quite the opposite. With one finger trailing beneath his chin, she drew him nearer, daring him to kiss her.

She was offering herself up to be had, for him to take her. And why not? There was no one waiting at home for him. He was a free man with a cock so hard it hurt. And this woman—a dangerous and wild woman—wanted him. At least for the night. And he wanted her. Hell, who wouldn’t?

He cradled the back of her neck, kissing her hard. “If you steal from me again, I’ll kill you.”

“I wouldn’t cross you again. I know when I’m licked.”

Pushing her back onto the mattress, he nipped at her ear. “I haven’t even started licking you yet.”

She laughed, wrapping a leg around him.

Haven't read books one and two? Find LANDLOCKED and SMUGGLER'S BLUES,  as well as other books by Cindy Jacks, at ELLORA’S CAVE.

Apr 22, 2013

In the Spotlight - Peyton Elizabeth!




CONTEST: Comment below to win a copy of The First Order! Contest ends April 27th at Midnight. Don't forget to include your email!


To me, reading is an escape from reality.  We all have those times when reality becomes too much and we need something to lighten our hearts.  Reading has always given me that, but recently, I was lucky enough to meet a man who was able to do that for me in a different way.  He's shown me that reality can be just as much fun as fiction.  As a mother, it's important to me to show my son that life is full of surprises and that we must cherish every day we are given.  Here's to lightening our hearts!


Becca Schuler has always fantasized about bondage, but
does that really make her depraved?  According to an ex-boyfriend, it does. 

After losing her job, and with no way to pay her rent, Becca hits a local bar to drown her sorrows. The last thing she expects is to meet a mysterious woman who assures that she can make Becca’s dream a reality. Is there really a company called Safeword LLC that places submissive women with dominant men per their preferences on a simple application?

Knowing she has nothing to lose, Becca fills out the form on www.safewordllc.com. Her placement lands her in the sensual and strict hands of Lane and Ross Ellison, who train her to be their ideal submissive. But when Becca’s fear of not being perfect weaves its way into their lives, she sets out to be just that and unknowingly risks losing it all.


“Rebecca, where are your eyes?”

The surprise of her given name made Becca realize she’d been staring at her dress on the ground. She’d been so caught up in answering him appropriately that she’d forgotten her first instruction—keeping her eyes on her hands. Becca immediately brought her gaze up to where they were clasped together, only to find them clutched underneath her belly button.

“Th–they were on my dress, Sir.”

“And what did I tell you to keep your eyes focused on, Rebecca?”

“My hands, Sir.” Becca couldn’t stop the tremor in her voice. Would he punish her? A stab of fear shot through her. She knew she couldn’t handle pain, but yet she didn’t want to disappoint him. The warring emotions were almost too much to handle and she watched as her knuckles whitened against each other. Becca swore to herself that she’d do better in following his instructions. She didn’t want him to stop and take away these feelings that he’d stirred within her. “I’ll do better, Sir.”

“You’ll be chastised a little later for your infraction, Rebecca. Right now, I’d like you to lower your hands to your sides.”

Becca felt the stiffness in her knuckles as she loosened her grip. She brought her hands down to her sides, not taking her eyes off of them. Becca’s focus made her conscious of the fact she would have kept them tightly closed. She forced her hands to remain relaxed, feeling the pads of her fingertips brush against her thighs.

“Now, I want you to look at your right shoulder.” Ross closed the distance between them, walking around so that he was standing directly behind her. She blinked rapidly, trying to resist the urge to look up at his face. “Tell me what you see.”

“I–I’m not sure I understand, Sir.” Ross’s finger trailed from the curve of her neck, over her shoulder, and down her arm. “It’s my shoulder, Sir.”

“Your shoulders are sensual cambers scattered with enticing freckles begging to be caressed.” Ross brought his hands underneath her mounds and cupped her breasts, lifting them up until she was spilling over his fingers. “Now tell me what you see.”

Becca knew she could do better than just saying the word breasts. He wanted something more descriptive. Unfortunately, his touch was distracting her mind from searching for the correct adjectives. “My breasts in your hands are s–sensitive to your touch, Sir.”

“I like knowing they are sensitive, Becca,” Ross said in a low voice that dripped like rich caramel over her senses. “I see beautifully formed swollen tits bound in creamy flesh. Your taut areolas are soft with miniscule bumps that tighten under the warmth of my touch. Your burgeoning nipples appear magnificent in their eagerness to feel the moisture of my tongue.”

Becca gave a ragged sigh and struggled to inhale whatever oxygen might be left in the room. Ross seemed to have left none for her. Light perspiration now coated her skin. She’d never been so aware of her breasts before and was astonished to find that he’d instigated a deep ache within them. Ross hadn’t touched her nipples, but his words seemed to have triggered a pinch within them that wouldn’t dissipate.

Ross gently released her breasts and brought his warm hands down to her cool stomach. It wasn’t as flat as Becca would have wanted it, and she mentally cringed at what she would say if he asked her to describe her abdomen. She wasn’t good at this game and wanted it over with, yet she’d never felt so aroused. It was if her body had awakened from a long winter’s sleep. How had Ms. Van Camp known this was what Becca had needed?

“Please describe where my hands are, Rebecca.”

“Oh, my stomach, Sir.”

“That’s all you have to say?”

“I–I’m not happy with that part of me, Sir.”

“Then let’s change your view, shall we? I see porcelain skin that is soft to the touch while the slight swell speaks of your fertile health.” Ross stroked his thumb across her lower abdomen, which caused her muscles to contract as well as her pussy. “Your voluptuous curves lead into what an artist would see as perfection, lightly etching your lines to catch the blossoming of your hips. The only thing their artwork lacks is the ability to capture the grace with which you tilt them as you walk, framing your flower between them.”

Becca watched as his hands dipped farther down, suspended right above her bare pussy. Her clit was enflamed, glowing a bright pink, and had been overly sensitive since she’d left the spa. The dampness growing inside her thighs was becoming alarming. If air could cause such a fiery reaction, Becca wasn’t sure she’d be able to cope with Ross’s touch. She was finding it hard not to lean back against his broad chest for support. Ross pulled his hands away and stepped back. She nearly collapsed in frustration.

“Place your fingers inside your folds, Rebecca. Pull them apart and show me your pussy.”


Q: If you could spend a day with one of your characters, who would it be and why?  
I would love to spend the day with James Calihan, the Chief Security Officer at Safeword LLC!  I love his physique, his five o’clock shadow, and his ability to get things done.  He intrigues me and his past is a mystery just waiting to be solved.  Imagine all of the questions I could ask him! 

Q: What is one thing about the publishing world that surprised you the most?  
I wouldn’t say that anything surprises me about the publishing world so much as it fascinates me.  There is so much goes into the success of a book.  From the contracts to the editing to the cover art – every step creates a story that came from me into something that I can share with the world.

Q: What do you feel is the hardest part of the writing process?  
The most difficult part of the writing process for me is the edits.  It can be very emotional to change something that I poured my heart into, but yet I know that my editor has the story’s best interest at heart. 

Q: When is your favorite time of day to write?  
I do my best writing in the late morning or early afternoon.  I’m definitely not a morning person (unless I’m supplied with endless amounts of coffee) and I’m exhausted by the time evening rolls around.

Q: What is the one thing you must have to be able to write?  Winter.  I know that sounds odd, but during the winter months, I can write like there’s no tomorrow.  I love to watch the snow fall outside my bay window, the fire blazing in the fireplace, coffee in hand, and snuggled on the couch with my laptop.

CONTEST: Comment below to win a copy of The First Order! Contest ends April 27th at Midnight. Don't forget to include your email!

Apr 15, 2013

In the Spotlight - Evelise Archer



CONTEST: Comment below and include your email address for a chance to win a copy of NO OTHERS NEED APPLY and a $10 GC (Amazon/Barnes & Noble) Contest ends April 20th at Midnight.


Born in Philadelphia, PA, Evelise now resides in Southcentral PA with her loving husband, two dogs and a rabbit. Fueled by desire for coffee and a passion for literature, Evelise began writing to fill the time left empty by her three now grown children.


Jonathon Valient, M/M author, is the owner of www.noothersneedapply.com blog and review site.  He is in desperate need of an assistant/reviewer to help him maintain his blog as well as review books. He places an advertisement on his blog in the hopes of attracting someone with an ounce of intelligence to aide him in his dilemma. 

Shelton Richards is an English professor at the bottom of the faculty list and is relegated to teaching college freshmen who think they know everything. Shelton is also a big fan of the M/M author sees the Help Wanted and applies. Hired, the two men embark on a wonderful journey professionally and personally as Jonathon begins to write his new novel with Shelton as his inspiration.


Jonathon decided to cook a nice meal for their date instead of going out. Roasted chicken, garlic red potatoes and fresh green beans made up the meal for the night with strawberry shortcake for dessert. The men ate in companionable silence until Shelton finally broke the ice with a safe subject.

Have you given any more thought to the title of the new book?”

Jonathon put down his tall glass of tea to reply, “Still thinking. Nothing grabs my attention, but it will come to me.” He picked up his glass again, eyeing the young man over it Shelton nodded and spoke softly. “Maybe you can find inspiration while you fuck me into the mattress.”

Jonathon sputtered and tea flew from his mouth. Subtle.

Jonathon smirked and proceeded to carry plates and silverware to the kitchen then returned to wipe the table down. Washing the dishes would have to wait. He grabbed Shelton’s hand and tugged. As they climbed the stairs he knew life would never be the same.

“I have wanted you from the moment you walked through the bistro door,” Jonathon said as they entered the bedroom.

He pulled Shelton into an embrace, nibbling along his jaw line. He felt his soft blond facial hair catch along his own stubble. He could feel Shelton’s body vibrating with anticipation and need as he tilted his head for better access. Jonathon swooped down on his lips and began to devour them, eliciting moans from Shelton. Jonathon continued the onslaught maintaining the pace of the kiss. He thrust his tongue into Shelton’s mouth, running it over his teeth, gums, and Shelton’s own tongue. Both tongues dueling, but Jonathon never gave up control. Jonathon decided enough was enough and tonight he would make Shelton Richards his. Jonathon walked Shelton backwards, never relinquishing his lips until he had to release the man to remove the button down shirt. Damn those buttons, he thought as he attempted to work his fingers down the front of the shirt. Jonathon gave up and yanked, buttons flew and the shirt was off. Shelton rippled with muscles. His abs were tight, the product of daily crunches and five mile runs. The man could be a poster child for a runner’s magazine. Completely lickable and most definitely fuckable.

Shelton grabbed onto Jonathon’s arms as Jonathon reached for the belt on his jeans. Unbuckling and slipping it from the loops, he removed the belt and tossed it towards the chair. It missed the chair and clunked to the hardwood floor with a bang. Jonathon worked his way down Shelton’s neck bringing up love bites from the onslaught of suckling. Jonathon was in heaven. He had never felt such a deep rooted connection with another human being as he felt with Shelton. Dare he believe it could be love?


Q: What is one thing about the publishing world that surprised you the most?
Is it crazy to say that I was surprised how nice everyone was? I had no idea what to expect and what pleasantly surprised that even as the editor was her “thing” she was nice and maybe she even had a *smile*.

Q: How do you keep your characters and stories organized? 
I am a Post-it Note girl. That is probably not the most efficient way to keep organized, but it helps me. I keep a post it note for each character as I write and group them together for the book. So, when you look at my desk or dining room table it is post-it note central.

Q: Are you plot or character driven? Please elaborate.
Definitely character driven.  Sometimes I write scenes for the characters first and then let that speak to me. Once I have collected enough scenes for the various characters I start putting the story together.

Q: What is the one thing you must have to be able to write?
Thanks to my daughter, I have all my favorite songs on my lap top so I can plug myself in as I write.  And coffee…my life’s blood. Can’t live without it. Black, no sugar please and strong.

Q: When is your favorite time of day to write?
Since I work full time, I usually write at night and I take advantage of the weekends. I am a teacher, so I am looking forward to having a few weeks off in the summer so I can do some heavy duty writing.

Q: What is one of your biggest pet peeves?
I am a grammar nazi, so that actually makes it difficult for me to write sometimes. I want every sentence to be perfect, even when the characters speak. I have to remember that it is okay to use contractions and have fragmented sentences. I am working on that.

CONTEST: Comment below and include your email address for a chance to win a copy of NO OTHERS NEED APPLY and a $10 GC (Amazon/Barnes & Noble) Contest ends April 20th at Midnight.

Apr 8, 2013

In the Spotlight - Shannon Reckler



CONTEST: Comment below and include your email address for a chance to win OUT OF DARKNESS: SLAYER 2. Contest ends April 13th at midnight


Shannon Reckler is a southern girl at heart, who grew up in a small town in North Carolina. She currently is finishing college, and living in the mountains. Her feline, ember, keeps her company while she is up late trying to finish whatever story is locked in her mind. She is passionate about writing as well as cooking. Nothing means more to her than her family and friends, and she can’t wait to return to her hometown someday.

        Shannon is a true hopeless romantic and believes in a soul mate for everyone, and that you should love as much as you possibly can. She knows life is short, and feels that there is no point in wasting it on a life you don’t want to live, so she has fun and enjoys every moment.



Phoebe has been captured by Cordin, the leader of the vampires, and is fighting for her life—as well as the way of life she has come to know for the last two hundred years. As the youngest sister, Phoebe is still learning everything about the world of the Slayers. But more importantly, she is still learning things about herself. Currently she is learning that her resistance is just as strong as she thought it was.

Cordin has put his right-hand man, Xander, in charge of watching her. Unfortunately, she spends a lot of time watching him, too.

Phoebe won’t stop trying to escape and return home, but this mysterious man keeps distracting her from her goals. Xander has not only captured her physically, but is capturing her heart without even trying. Phoebe must choose between returning home to her sisters and remaining Xander’s prisoner forever.


Phoebe heard the boots touch softly on the ground. She knew that without her specialized hearing, she never would have been able to hear the feet land only inches away from hers. She didn’t move, because she knew she would only have one burst of adrenaline powerful enough for her to possibly fight against her attacker. She needed to make sure she had a chance at life. She couldn’t let her sisters down.
      The man who was in front of her, didn’t make a move to grab her or threaten her. He simply stood there watching her, she could feel his gaze on the top of her head where she was curled around her knees. She couldn’t see him with the angle her head was at, and she couldn’t move to look at him. However, she could feel the energy he was letting off.
      Because of her heightened panther senses, she could feel various energy from different types of beings. Her non-animal sisters had a different energy than the ones who could shift. And then the vampires had a horrid energy surrounding them, it was almost a suffocating sense.
      However this energy, was not familiar to her. She knew he was not a vampire, he had a strong energy but it wasn’t inherently evil.
      She sat patiently waiting for him to move, but he just stood there for a few more moments. She couldn’t hear him breathe, which was strange. She also had impeccable hearing. How was it possible that he made no sound?
      She was startled by a rough, warm hand on her arm. How long had he been so close to her? She thought he might be there to help her, since there was no evil energy, but then he jerked her roughly to her feet.
      Because it had been so long since she had had blood, her body was weak and she wasn’t prepared to have to catch her weight on her feet. She fell forward into the man, and found her self mashed up against a solid, hard body. He tensed as her body melted in to him, and then his arms came up to her shoulders pausing for a minute before he jerked her away from him.
      She caught a whiff of his scent and was mesmerized for a moment, before the scent of blood caught her nostrils and her stomach cramped. She couldn’t stop the whimper from escaping her chapped lips. She could feel her fangs distend from her gums, just at the thought of sinking her teeth into flesh.
      The stranger growled low in his throat, as if he could read her thoughts. Her panther answered with a growl of her own. She knew she was weak, but she wasn’t dead and she didn’t take kindly to being threatened.
      “Slayer don’t you even think of biting me. I will kill you if I have to.” Phoebe shivered at the first sound of his voice. It was deep and husky, as if he didn’t speak very often, but she felt the vibrato of it all the way to her bones. But then she remembered where she was and who this man was probably associated with.
      “I wouldn’t bite a vampire to save my life, no matter if it meant death. I would rather die than have that kind of filth in my body.” She tried to jerk her arms free, as a serge of adrenaline hit her system. But it wasn’t enough strength to combat the power of this man. Or vampire? She was trying to think in her head, when he had the audacity to laugh at her struggles.
      “We agree then.” She didn’t know what he meant at first, because her temper was flaring at his laughter. But then she figured out he was talking about the vampire blood.
      “You’re not vampire?”
      He let out a not-so-quiet snort. “Hell no.”
      “Then you’re here to help me?” Phoebe thought she had a glimmer of hope until his fingers tightened on her arms.
      “No.” She felt his hand move from her arm, but she couldn’t see in this hellhole. She was trying to use her energy to figure out what he was doing, but it was hard enough to figure out how big he was, and how hard it was going to be to fight him off.
      She could tell her was taller than her, from where her head had been at high on his chest. Which put him at around 6’5”, since she was almost 5’11” herself. He had a muscular chest and thighs that she could tell from their brief contact, which meant the rest of him was probably impressive in strength as well.
      She honestly didn’t think she could fight him off, but she tried to prepare herself for the fight anyway. She couldn’t fathom dying without at least fighting for her life. She tensed her weak muscles and tried to shift her weight into a fighting stance, trying to figure out where his hand was and if he was going to strike.
      And then she heard him chuckle. That was twice he had laughed at her. The bastard was laughing at her weakness. Phoebe tensed and tried to jerk her arm free, but the large, hot palm on her arm didn’t budge in the slightest.
      “You can’t hurt me, Slayer.” Phoebe tensed as she felt his words whisper in her ear. He had leaned down so close she could feel his hot breaths against her skin. She shivered as he brought his hand up near her face, and then ran one callused finger down the side of her cheek. She should jerk away. She had no idea whether this man was a friend or foe. He hadn’t threatened her yet, but he hadn’t offered her an escape either.
        She thought he was going to say something else, but he made no sound. His hand dropped to her neck, and she was distracted by his touch so much that she wasn’t prepared for the thumb that was pressing down. Once she figure out his attention it was too late, she was slipping in to unconsciousness and slumping forward into the hard masculine body standing before.


Q: Thinking back on your first book, is there anything you would have done differently?
I was hesitant in the beginning about the sex scenes. Originally, I was writing for mainstream romance and I decided to make the change to erotic romance. I was worried about what my family would think, but after book one I decided that I wanted to write what made my happy. I wish my first book had had hotter sex and possibly another round of edits.

Q: If you could spend a day with one of your characters, who would it be and why?
I love Daphne Brooks from Velvet and Lace. I think she has the best attitude on life and I think that it would be an incredibly entertaining day.

Q: How do you keep your characters and stories organized?
I have to keep spreadsheets on all of my characters so that I can remember the simple details, such as eye color, hair color, height that sort of thing. I never forget their personalities or anything, but sometimes it is hard to remember the little details.

Q: When is your favorite time of day to write?
I write best at night. I have always been a night owl and it seems that my best ideas always come to me when it's dark outside.

Q: When and where can readers look forward to seeing you this year?
I have a lot to look forward this year, I'm hoping. I will be graduating from college this year and after that I will have a lot more time to write so I hope in the second half of the year I will have a lot more books released. 

CONTEST: Comment below and include your email address for a chance to win OUT OF DARKNESS: SLAYER 2. Contest ends April 13th at midnight

Apr 1, 2013

In the Spotlight - Jess Buffett


Welcome This Week's Featured Author!



CONTEST: Comment Below For a Chance to Win a copy of The Kayan's Mage. Contest Ends at Midnight on Saturday, April 6th.


Jess Buffett was born and raised in New South Wales, Australia. She is married to a wonderful and supportive husband and they live on the Central Coast with their two children. Jess is a hopeless romantic who loves stories about true love that sizzle with a happy ending. She is a huge fan of M/M and M/F romance—anything with hunky men in all their glory, whether they be Shifters, Vampires, Cowboys, or the boy next door. Jess believes in soul mates, happily ever afters, and in love at first sight, but that sometimes people need a second or a third for the brain to catch up.



Sawyer McLeod lost his family and his entire Guild, except his twin, seven years ago. Now almost twenty-one, he is coming to the age to receive his abilities as a Mage. Unfortunately there are others who will stop at nothing to see the brothers don’t survive that long.

When Jake Hunter, Kayan for a Clan of Wolf Shifters living in Australia, finally finds his true-mate, he doesn’t expect it to be in the midst of a brutal attack. Through omissions of truth, misunderstandings, and fear, Jake struggles to prove to Sawyer that he can trust him.
When Sawyer is finally willing to give Jake a chance, a ghost from the past returns to destroy everything they have built together. Will they be able to overcome the foe long thought gone, or will it be the end for the Kayan’s Mage?


“Com’ere, blondie,” the middle man slurred, his body swaying as he spoke. Sawyer could smell the pungent scent of stale alcohol from where he stood and shivered in revulsion when the man’s eyes raked over him. Worse still was when the man cupped his crotch and licked his lips like they were some sort of delicious meal he couldn’t wait to dig into. God, he was going to be sick.
Riley reached over and gripped Sawyer’s hand tight. He could feel the tremors running through his brother’s body, but he was hiding it well. While they may have had a slight advantage since neither he nor his brother was human, these men were big and outnumbered them. And if Elijah knew what Sawyer and Riley were, he also knew how old they were and that they wouldn’t have their abilities yet. Prime pickings.
“Seems they think they’re too good for us, Bear,” the one to Bear’s left chuckled. He took a step forward, and Sawyer couldn’t contain the whimper of fear that passed his lips even as he stepped sideways to place himself in front of his twin.
“Well now, Tiger, we’ll just have to change their minds. Won’t we, blondie?” sneered Bear.
Really, Tiger and Bear! Who were these guys, the rejects from an L. Frank Baum novel? Sawyer was just waiting for the guy on the right to pipe up and announce to the class that his name was Lion. If they were shifters, maybe he’d get it.
Wait, scrap that. Not even shifters would be that corny.
From behind him, he heard Riley mutter, “Lions, tigers, and bears, oh my.”
A snigger slipped past Sawyer’s lips, clearly indicating that his self-preservation wasn’t kicking in. Both of them had always found the most inappropriate things amusing when they were scared, and unfortunately for them, Bear didn’t seem to appreciate their particular brand of humour. No one ever did.
A fist collided with the side of his head, blindsiding him and knocking him to the ground. From where he fell, Sawyer shoved at Riley, moaning for him to run. Somewhere to his left he heard Riley scream his name, but there was nothing he could do but draw their attention, giving his brother a chance to escape as another hard kick landed in his stomach. That was going to leave a mark. Managing to regain his footing, Sawyer blocked the next hit, following it up with a right hook of his own. His fist collided with the man’s temple and the guy went down with a grunt. All those years they had spent on the street were paying off, and by the look on Elijah’s face, he hadn’t been prepared for that. A small sliver of satisfaction ran through Sawyer. The arsehole hadn’t expected on him fighting back, which meant he didn’t know Sawyer as well as he thought he did.
“That’s right, bitch. This twink fights back,” he spat out.
Focusing on the next guy, Sawyer was able to take down two more before becoming overwhelmed. He just couldn’t keep up, taking more hits than he could dish out. Blow after blow struck him until he was unable to fight back, dropping to the ground. He could feel the blood from one of the wounds on his heads dripping down, and he knew there were more where that came from. It was hard to kill one of his kind, but blood loss was a definite possibility at this point, and all he could do was lay there and take whatever they threw at him. His body was like one big lightning bolt of pain, but he refused to beg them to stop. Just when he thought he couldn’t take any more, the blows ceased. But before Sawyer had a chance to feel relief, the hands returned, this time touching and blindly groping, trying to tear at his clothes.
Oh, God. No.
Bile rose into his throat as he felt his shirt rip and another set of hands go for the zipper of his jeans, tearing at the button. He tried to buck the hands off, but with as battered as he was, all it did was excite them more. Elijah’s hand came down and clamped Sawyer’s jaw tightly with a strength that surprised him, keeping his head locked in one place. Staring into the eyes of a man he once called friend, for a moment Sawyer could have sworn he saw a flicker of pain and sadness cross the man’s face, but it was gone just as quickly to be replaced with the emotionless expression he had worn all night. Tears mixed with the blood running down Sawyer’s cheeks as he acknowledged what was coming and that there was no way he could stop it. He sent up a silent prayer that Riley had gotten away, and that he would never see this.
Suddenly a feral growl ripped through the lot from behind the men that held him down, taking them all by surprise. Then everything stopped.


If you could spend a day with one of your characters, who would it be and why?

If I had to choose one, it would have to be Riley. He’s sassy, sarcastic, fun and full of useless information that could keep me entertained for hours. He wants to have fun and be ‘out-there’ and isn’t afraid of that. He’d be someone I could see myself having a hell of a time with. Riley is one character that I really enjoy writing for and including in scenes.

Are you plot or character driven? Please elaborate.
Character, but not for the lack of trying. I try to follow a plot…I really do, but it never works out that way. When I start I always write a plot outline, so I know which direction I’m going in and where I want to end up. Never sticks. My boys end up going off on their own little tangent and making their own stuff up as they go along. I usually stop to look back at the plot outline and think “How the hell did they end up in that situation?”
What is the one thing you must have to be able to write?
As cliché as it sounds…coffee. I’m addicted anyway, but when I’m writing it’s like a necessity and my hubby knows to just keep it coming. He doesn’t even have to ask. Half the time I glance down and find I have one waiting for me.
Have you ever gotten writer’s block? How do you get past it?
I read, and if that doesn’t help then I write out a new story plot. The amount of WIP that I have just sitting on my laptop is ridiculous, and half of them may never get written, but it works.
Can you offer advice on how to move on from the dreaded rejection letter?
With any rejection letter there is usually a list of reasons why. The biggest issue I had was trying not to take it personally. While the story is personal for you the other person is usually just trying to help and point out what doesn’t or won’t work. I take what they say and I work with it on my own terms.
When is your favorite time of day to write?
Night. When the kids are in bed and everything is done. I work best when there are no distractions. If something is happening or someone is talking, then I’m done for. I do try during the day, but my best stuff is usually at night when I can just let it flow.


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