Tuesday, October 21, 2014

Book Blast, Giveaway & Interview: Seraphina: Initiation by @Sheena_Hutch

Seraphina Initiation Banner TOUR 851 x 315



clip_image002Seraphina: Initiation

Seraphina Series

Book Two

Sheena Hutchinson

Genre: Paranormal Romance, Urban Fantasy

Publisher: Hutchinson Publishing

Date of Publication: 10/20/2014

ISBN: 1502319608


Number of pages: 200

Word Count: 60,000

Cover Artist: Andrea Garcia

Book Description:

Seraphina Cross is unexpectedly thrown into this crazy, spiritual world of Angels versus Demons. Never did she expect to meet Nate who was just a figment of her imagination until last week. Now she finds herself moving in with him because of her innate responsibility to protect her loved ones from harm.

Finally beginning to feel at home in her new house and with her new relationship. Nate begins training Sera in all that she can do, surprising even himself at times.

Just when she is starting to feel safe and powerful, the Devil finds a new way to attack her at her most vulnerable.

When her dreams are no longer a gift, can Sera control the powers needed to defeat what's coming before Lucifer fulfills his promise to her?

Book Trailer: http://youtu.be/GFFT-_DAuZk

Available at Amazon Amazon UK


Climbing the three steps, I turn to Nate and state, “I want to cook!” as I push him into his seat in the breakfast nook.

“Are you sure?” he asks me knowing full well I have no culinary skills and we could conjure a meal in seconds. I could attempt to conjure a meal, but to be honest I crave some normalcy.

“How bad can I screw up eggs?” I joke over my shoulder as I’m checking the cabinets for a frying pan. When I find it I open the refrigerator for some eggs. As I open the door, I feel the cold hit my bare legs and I’m suddenly fully aware I’m wearing nothing but a short, sheer, silk nightgown. I’m beginning to feel Nate’s eyes all over me. I take a calming breath, grab a few eggs, and turn to the stove pretending not to notice. I turn the flame on when he finally speaks.

“I feel useless! Can’t I do something?” he asks with a smirk I know implies more than he says.

“Uh, you can make the toast!” I turn around and joke, but he rises. Passing me so close he just barely makes contact, but I can sense his body heat radiating towards me. He pops a few slices of toast into the toaster before I feel his body heat behind me again. My body stiffens when my senses begin to go haywire. Then I feel his fingers touch my waist through my nightgown sliding themselves lightly up and down the side of my body. With his other hand I feel him move my hair to one side, over my shoulder as he gently places a kiss on the back of my neck. His body heat is rising behind me as he kisses down my neck to the tip of my shoulder. I close my eyes relishing in his touch and let my senses feel him. I let myself feel him, his touch, his emotions, his heat. I can sense him, and… smell him? I smell something else, something burning. I look over to see the toast hasn’t popped back up. Regrettably and slowly pulling away, I walk across to the toaster and pull out the black bread.

“I give you one job!” I joke waiving the burnt toast in his direction.

“Sorry, I was distracted!” he defends mockingly looking down like a puppy in trouble.

“Well, don’t let it happen again.” I parentally joke back as I throw the blackened bread at him playfully. He flashes me a heart-stopping smirk before sitting back in his place while I serve him his eggs. We eat breakfast in silence. It’s hard to put into human words, but it’s as if there’s some unspoken connection in the room. One that we are both aware we want, but we don’t want to act on it. So instead, we sit staring at each other, basking in the emotion the other is giving off for what seems like forever until Nate breaks the silence.

“Okay,” he leans back throwing his arms up in defeat, “I think it’s time you put some real clothes on so we can get some actual work done today!”

I giggle looking down at the nightgown that’s hugging my body before getting up to change. I’m almost down the stairs when I hear,

“Aren’t you going to clean up your mess?” Nate asks in his stern training mode voice.

“What?” I flash back around to ask in surprise.

“I think it’s time you try using your mind powers, clean this up,” he replies trying not to move his eyes lower than my hazel ones.

I sigh before closing my eyes, trying to remember how Nate explained using them. I focus my mind on all the dishes being clean and tucked back into their little places in the

cabinets before snapping my fingers. I open one eye first to check the table, when I see all the plates are missing from the table I open the other. I smile proudly, shrug my shoulders before turning around and dashing upstairs to put on something more, appropriate.

A few minutes later, I’m running down the stairs in my training clothes and my hand excitedly reaches for the front door when I hear Nate cough behind me. I turn to see him standing in the dining room. Confused, I walk towards him.

“Aren’t we going for a run?” I ask him pointing over my shoulder to the door behind


“I’m sorry Sera, but we can’t go outside anymore. If you need to release some

energy I made a treadmill in the basement.”

I freeze staring past him and out the glass wall of the dining room at all the trees and the gorgeous cliff and my heart sinks. I can’t go outside anymore? I can’t feel the sun on my face? The wind in my hair? The heartbeat of the earth? I’m a prisoner in my own house. I know this is because of the bear yesterday and that this is for my own safety, but I can’t help feeling my heart drop and I know Nate can see it sprawled all over my face.

“I’m sorry Sera, but until you are trained you shouldn’t be in harm’s way… consciously, not if I can help it.”

I can’t be mad at Nate he’s only trying to protect me, but I can’t help the resentment I feel. I turn around without a word, open the basement door against the side of the staircase, and slam it behind me as I descend the stairs. When I reach the last step, I eye the plain cement basement with the treadmill in the middle of the room. He has set up a flat screen television with a picture of the forest, but it doesn’t help. Looking around, in this dreary training facility I notice there are no windows or air. I can’t help the anger I feel, but instead of thinking about it, I try and focus it. I turn the treadmill up and run. I run as fast as the stupid machine will go. I run, trying to escape all the anger, all the sadness, all the confusion and all the other weird feelings I can’t put into words. I run until all my overwhelming emotions produce a tear. I feel it begin to trace its way down my cheek. As if in slow motion, I see the singular tear drop all the way down to the belt before my foot extends and I step on it. I slam my foot down as if I’m repressing all the depressing feelings, all the anger I harbor. Somehow in all that is going on I realize the old, depressed, weak Sera is gone. She died that night in the middle of the street. The only thing that remains is Seraphina. She is strong, confident, and she is who I need to become. I slam my hand down on the ‘Stop’ button and jump off the treadmill wiping my cheek before heading upstairs, ready to learn how to become who I need to be.

character interview

Character Name: Jack

Character Bio: 

Stud-ly blonde haired coffee shop owner in the town of Angelica, NY. Sera soon found out that Jack had a secret of his own—he can talk to spirits. They became close friends, although that was never the direction he wanted the relationship to go. They tried their hand at dating, if one date constitutes ‘dating.’ Needless to say, it didn’t work out. Jack has pledged his life to getting Sera back by any means possible.


Describe yourself what is your worst and best quality?

Worst: When I fall in love, I fall hard

Best: Undying Loyalty

What is the one thing you wish other people knew about you?

I’m extremely hardworking and determined.

What is your biggest secret something no one knows about?

Well, besides Sera—no one knows that when I was 16 I started hearing voices, dead voices to be exact. Some people call me a medium, others say I have ‘the sight’ but nothing can describe how powerful I am getting now.

What are you most afraid of?


What do you want more than anything?

Seraphina Cross, the beautiful, red haired siren that haunts my dreams and continually breaks my heart.

What is your relationship status?

I’m working on it.

How would you describe your sense of fashion?

Business casual, emphasis on casual and sprinkled with coffee stains.

How much of a rebel are you?

You’d be surprised.

What do you considered to be your greatest achievement?

My first kiss with Sera. It took all my courage for that one moment.

What is your idea of happiness?

Watching Sera deep in thought as she curls up in the green chair in the corner of my shop sipping my coffee.

What is your current state of mind?


What is your most treasured possession?

Sera’s phone number written on an old receipt, okay, am I coming off pathetic now?

What is it that you, most dislike?

Men that fall from the sky and steal my girl... yea that’s gotta be at the top of my list!

Which living person do you, most despise?

Ugh, that Abercrombie & Fitch Angel wanna-be, Nate.

What is your greatest regret?

Letting Sera slip through my fingers.

What is the quality you most like in a man?

Who cares, I don’t trust men.

What is the quality you most like in a woman?

Angel blood, mixed with intelligence, beauty, inner strength and passion.

Who is your favorite hero in fiction?

Who wants to be a hero? That’s no fun, my favorite villain would be Lord Voldemort, because you just can’t kill him. He may be quiet for a few years, but he’s coming back stronger than ever before.

Which living person do you most admire?

Okay, this is definitely going to sound super sappy—but I have to say I admire Sera, the way she’s dealt with all that’s happened and she has never faltered. I just hope that I can be that strong for her one day.

If you could change one thing about yourself what would it be?

Well, maybe if I owned wings and not a coffeehouse I’d get Sera’s attention.

What is your motto?

Never give up!



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Sheena is a born and raised New Yorker, even her writing can't seem to hide her hard sarcasm. She claims destiny has lead her back to her true passion for writing.

She constantly strives to be a positive role model and writes stories that empower and inspire. Sheena always roots for the underdog, believes in love at first sight, and that everyone should have their happily ever after.

While God is currently still writing her love story, she continues to put all her effort into her writing as she is constantly getting new inspiration.

For more info, updates, and fun facts visit her website at www.SheenaHutchinson.com





Book Blast& Top Ten: Beacon of Sound by @authorrmgarry

Beacon of Sound Banner 851 x 315_thumb[1]



clip_image002_thumb[1]Beacon of Sound

The Noir Dera

Book 1

R.M. Garry

Genre: Paranormal Romance

ISBN: 9781310047725


Number of pages: 247

Word Count: 86,260

Cover Artist: Brandi Doane McCann

Book Description:

There is no way to fight desire and destiny. Marie is going to learn that the only way to win is to give in.

Marie DeLou has everything a successful counselor could ever want. Her mental health practice is thriving and she can help most clients without trying. In addition to a great career, she’s married to a sexy, doting neurologist. Marie has convinced herself that her perfect life is quiet and nothing will change it. Little does she know that a freight train of a man named Patrick Alvang is about to tear right through her quiet existence and turn the world as she knows it upside down.

Prince Patrick Alvang of the Noir Dera has one job to do. His mission is to reveal the truth to Marie and save her from the danger lurking within her walls. The plan is simple that is, until he gets to know the damsel in distress and decides he wants to devour her instead. Saying that Marie is stubborn would be an understatement, so he’ll have to play dirty if he wants to save the damsel and claim Marie as his Na-Ou. Saving a reluctant woman is hard work, but Patrick is sure to enjoy every last erotic second of his undertaking.

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Ahmose Sept Anno held her daughter’s hand close. They were completing a nightly ritual. Her young daughter Marie loved to take long walks and they always walked in the park or open field behind the aquatic complex. The scent of freshly cut grass and nature always left them feeling peaceful, and her young daughter needed to walk in order to remain calm. At the age of 12 the child had already shown amazing power through music.

Marie could recreate any sound she had ever heard on any instrument. While she clung to the cello as if it was her very breath, she took every opportunity to touch all instruments. Ahmose took her to Naples once a week to play the piano at a studio. From the small, migrant community of Immokalee in which they called home, the journey usually took about an hour. It was worth the long drive because the joy and light in Marie's eyes filled Ahmose with love.

She had been raising Marie alone since she fled her homeland with her mother and house sisters. They had all since split in hopes of hiding from the darkness that was out for their blood and power. Ahmose’s mother spent hours weaving spells from the wind in order to preempt any strikes against them. They had both decided that Marie would be encouraged to pursue her passion for music but would never be allowed to learn about the significance of her power. As long as Marie did not open herself to the Ether, no one would know of her existence. Every time Marie asked about her abilities, they just told her she was special and loved by all Gods.

No matter how much she masked her powers, Ahmose knew danger was only a heartbeat away. She and her mother both felt it, and every day they felt the dark powers in Immokalee growing. Something had finally caught up with them. They worked even harder to protect Marie. Ahmose was not afraid of dying; she was afraid that both her and Gran would be killed leaving Marie at the mercy of the Dera, and she could never allow that to happen. Once this walk was over, she would double her efforts and pull more power from the new God they now served.

After hiding in Haiti, their powers had been recognized by the Haitian Vodou Loa Loko. He was the only God that could make an individual a Hougan or Mambo. He had borne witness to their past and had blessed them with power, protection, and safe passage to the United States. They could never reveal their power to others or attempt to reconnect with their former God the Ether. If they chose to break that vow, they would be left open to danger and never allowed back into the fold of power.

For many reasons, Marie's powers had to be suppressed. They would have to willingly sacrifice themselves in order to help Marie gain her full powers. They would have to return to the Ether and leave Marie behind, and they were not willing to do that. As long as they both lived, the young, powerful musician that she had given birth to would be safe and remain alive.

"Mommy, did you hear me?” Marie's soft voice floated to her ears.

"Yes, dearest, I heard you. What instrument do you want to play now?” Ahmose replied.

"I had a dream about an Erhu. The music was so beautiful and sad, and the woman playing it had glowing eyes. She looked as though she wanted to cry but had to hold it in. The Erhu was crying for her and telling the world of her sadness.”

Ahmose drew in a sharp breath. The instruments were starting to call Marie, she thought. They were showing her the future. The Erhu is a Chinese violin. It had been used for centuries by different ethnic groups in China and throughout the world to convey emotions through music. Their neighbor Lan Yi had only played the instrument once in Marie’s presence but Marie was able to recognize it in a dream.

Before she could speak, she heard the sound of walking thunder.

The thunder was not coming from the sky; it was more of a thundering vibration that was coming towards them. Her heart began to race. They were here, and they were going to take Marie away. She had to protect Marie.

"Run daughter! Do not question me, just run!” Ahmose cried out.

They began to run and Ahmose called to the Vodou Loa Loko and began to draw on her powers as a mambo. She called for a spell of protection which descended upon her as she began to run faster.

Ahmose had a moment of relief that was immediately shattered as she realized that Marie was not covered by her protection. Loko would only protect the Hougans and Mambos, and Marie had not yet been inducted into that life. She would be protected while the life of her daughter was drained.

"Manman, what is that?” asked Marie. “I hear dark music. It is so scary.”

"Hush my daughter. I will protect you.”

Without warning, Ahmose and Marie were frozen still. Dark hands wrapped around Ahmose’s throat and she began to wheeze. The hands squeezed tighter and tighter. Marie saw the hands and began to cry.

"Rete w ap toufe l'! Stop, you’re choking her! Mommy, mommy!” screamed Marie as Ahmose called more power.

The hands around her throat began to ease. A second pair of hands began to close around Marie's throat. Ahmose did not think or hesitate.

"Do not cry daughter. Let the Erhu cry for you!”

Ahmose called forward her power of Earth. “I call on the power of Earth. Bind and protect my daughter, Marie Sept Anno. I open myself to the Ether. May its blessing be upon my daughter, the Beacon.”

There was a sound of fibers ripping as dark brown waves poured from the Sky and into Ahmose. She immediately shot her hands forward and ripped through the dark body strangling Marie. Marie started to wheeze, then caught her breath. The dark powers began to disappear except for one. She heard a familiar voice say, "What shall be our payment, Loko? Your mambo has broken her vow. You must pay the cost of her treason.” The figure then began to laugh.

Ahmose was prepared and knew what was coming. In an instant, her protective shields vanished and the dark hands returned to her throat. "I shall finally have your power, Beacon of Earth.” Ahmose would never let her powers be drained; she made her final sacrifice for her daughter. "Thank you, Loko, for your protection. My family will never be able to repay you. I take my punishment freely for breaking my vow.”

She looked at Marie and whispered, "I love you, Marie, daughter of my land.”

"Mommy, what are you saying? Let her go, please let her go!”

Ahmose looked to the sky as her throat began to close. "I call to the Ether, return me to your peace. Take Marie, the beacon of my womb, as my gift and sacrifice. Send my power to your first daughter, my mother. May it be there when she’s ready to receive your blessings? Oh great Ether, return me home.”

A flash of light hit the sky and blue power poured into Marie. Ahmose took one last breath and died. The dark power left her body in a heap on the ground as the figure of a woman shrouded by darkness moved towards Marie with malevolent intent. As she got close, a strong wind blew her away. The wind wrapped itself around Marie who was lying on top of her mother's body. "Manman, please wake up! It’s okay, you can breathe now. The mean lady is gone.” The wind blew in Marie's ears and whispered "Don't cry daughter; let the Erhu cry for you.”

Marie began to shiver as waves of blue light began to flow from her body. A sad melody filled the air, it was the music of an Erhu. Jia Peng Fang's “Cherry Blossoms” could be heard throughout the field and down the block. Marie shook and shivered but she never cried. She felt the wind return and her body was lifted off of her mother. Ahmose’s body rose up into the air and began to turn into brown waves and wind. The waves mixed with the wind and started floating away as the music grew louder. The brown waves wound themselves around Marie and lifted her up. After a few minutes, she was place on the ground and the waves disappeared into the sky. Marie laid down and did not get up. She waited in that very spot, hoping to wake up from this nightmare.

Femi Sept Anno felt the moment her daughter left the mortal plain. She felt her heart breaking. She put her fist to her mouth and held back her tears. She called out to the winds, "Find my granddaughter!” The winds obeyed and took her to Marie. She found Marie lying on the ground. Ahmose was gone. "Marie! Come to me! Let me take you home.” It was then that Marie opened her eyes as Femi saw something that she had prayed to never see in her granddaughter's eyes. The innocent girl she loved was gone. Sadness, fear, and hopelessness were the only things left in her brown, almost mortal eyes. She lifted her granddaughter into her arms and went home. This was only the beginning. One day she would have to give up the mortal world in order to protect Marie. Until that time, they would go home.


Top Ten Sexy Songs from Beacon of Sound

Beacon of Sound had a huge playlist. As an author, I believe that all stories should have their own soundtrack. Music intensifies every emotion a character experiences. The right song also has the potential to melt panties. This is my list of top ten sexy songs from the Beacon of Sound playlist.

1. Wicked Games- The Weeknd

This song is very explicit. If you can get past the naughty words, well you are in for a true erotic treat. The Weeknd’s voice is addictive. He could read the ingredients on a shampoo bottle and still make me melt. Ok, I need to move on before I get too distracted.


This song may seem off the wall but just listen to the lead singer’s voice. It is gritty and passionate. He makes no apologies for his behavior or approach to love. He just wants to you to give in and sail away with him. He is the reason Marie had a very hard time resisting…read the story, I won’t spoil it for you.

3. Feenin-Jodeci

If you grew up in the 90s, there is no reason for me to explain this song. It gets me into trouble every time I play it around my husband. Yes, I play it often.

4. An Tout Franchiz- K-Dans (Haitian Kompa Music)

Haitian men are extremely passionate. This song is all about lust and passion. The lead singer is clear about his intentions not being romantic. He wants to do naughty things to his lover. His voice combined with the music makes me fan my face. You don’t need to understand the words to know that this man is very bad.

5. Moments in Love- Art of Noise

Art of Noise perfected the art of erotic music. This song screams four play.

6. The Language Of Sound (Slow Edit)-Enigma

Both versions of this song are very erotic. The slow edit is the one that puts the image of slow, delicious torture in your mind. Think of a long deep sensual oil massage followed by… I need to move on. I still have four more songs.

7. Will you be ready- Deep Forest

The lyrics of this song are not exactly about tearing your clothes off but it is still a sexy song. Use your imagination. Her sultry voice makes you release control and allow your lover to take you higher than you have ever been.

8. La Traviata: Preludio to Act 3-Nuremberg Symphonic Orchestra

Think of a sweet and gentle love scene and this song would definitely be playing in the background

9. Softest Place on Earth-Xscape

This is another song that makes you slow down and enjoy every second of the experience.

10. My Songs Know What You Did In The Dark – Fall Out Boy

I know you are doing a double take right now but let me explain. I love rock and I am a sucker for a song full of power and angry guitars. You can’t tell me that this song doesn’t make you want to do it pinned to wall while holding onto your lover for dear life. I didn’t use the song for a love scene, but man it is hot!!!

Thank you for allowing me to corrupt you with my sexy top ten list. I hope you do very naughty things while listening to this playlist.

R.M. Garry






R.M. Garry lives with her three male children a.k.a the wolf pack and her husband of 12 years.

Writing allows her to maintain her sanity while juggling her world.

Her goal is to give readers a brief escape from the realities of their world.

When she isn’t writing, R.M. is reading and keeping up with her favorite authors.

For updates and book information readers can visit


Twitter: @authorrmgarry

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/rmgarry

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/RMGarry

Word Press Blog: http://authorrmgarry.wordpress.com/

Book Blast & Interview : Warrior by @CaraBristol

Warrior Banner 851 x 315_thumb[1]




Breeder Series

Book 3

Cara Bristol

Genre: Sci-fi/fantasy romance

Date of Publication: Oct. 21, 2014

ISBN: 978-0-9908052-0-5


Number of pages:

Word Count: 65K

Cover Artist: Mina Carter

Book Description:

A female yearning for freedom. A male armed with determination. Can they save their people?

As a despotic Qalin marches through Parseon intent on conquering every province, Commander Marlix pledges his sister to another Alpha to protect her. Desperate to decide her own fate, Anika flees and finds refuge with the guerilla resistance movement against Qalin. Marlix’s beta Urazi, a male of lesser status, tracks her intending to bring her home to fulfill her duty.

But when love blossoms between them, and provinces fall to Qalin, Anika and Urazi realize home has ceased to exist and they alone are all that stand between the people of Parseon and the end of the world.

Amazon US - http://www.amazon.com/Warrior-Breeder-Book-Cara-Bristol-ebook/dp/B00OP3PRG0/

Amazon UK - Warrior (Breeder Book 3) eBook: Cara Bristol: Amazon.co.uk: Kindle Store

Amazon AU - Warrior (Breeder Book 3) eBook: Cara Bristol: Amazon.com.au: Kindle Store

Barnes & Noble - http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/warrior-cara-bristol/1120581501?ean=2940150749979

All Romance eBooks- https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-warrior-1652179-340.html




She stared at the bloodied body. “Is Grogan dead?”

Urazi knelt and checked for a pulse against the alpha’s neck. “Yes.” He peered up at her. “Who is he to you? Has he used you?”

“Monto, no!” she gasped, not considering the alpha’s intentions pertinent. “Grogan is the leader of the Guerilla Resistance against Qalin and Artom, which I have joined,” she explained. Urazi’s eyes narrowed, and she added, “Grogan was training me and other breeders to fight.” Breeders could approach a sentry without arousing his suspicion then immobilize him, allowing male guerillas to storm the post and secure it. She thrust back her shoulders with defiant pride. She, a female, was capable of supporting the war effort in a productive way.

Urazi rose to his feet to examine the paper target. “You are an excellent sharpshooter, but winning a battle requires more than skill with a crossbow. You would not fare well in hand-to-hand combat.”

Anika shrugged. “If I have a crossbow, I will not need to engage in hand-to-hand combat.”

“Did it help you today?” Urazi strode to Grogan’s body, and yanked up his bloodied uniform shirt. Attached to the alpha’s nipple was an insignia ring. Urazi unclipped it and carried it over to her.

Anika stared. A single star. Province one. Qalin.

“You have joined with the enemy to strike against your own people? You would betray your Alpha? Your sibling?”

Qalin’s insignia lay in Urazi’s palm, damning, but untrue. So untrue. “No! How could you say that? The Resistance plans to strike against Qalin. Against Artom.”

Urazi tucked the star into his uniform pouch.

“But maybe Grogan is an infiltrator acting alone,” she argued, fighting against the insidious memories; the ease with which she’d been accepted into the camp when her comrades learned of her familiarity with both Marlix’s and Dak’s provinces; Grogan’s constant but subtle questions about locations. He’d asked if she’d ever encountered Marlix himself. At the time, she’d feigned ignorance of the latter, fearing they would send her back to him.

Anika clutched her throat. What if Urazi’s accusation was correct?

“If he were an ordinary alpha or beta, I might concede it possible. But he is—by your account—the leader. I do not believe in coincidence. I have been observing the camp. Neither Marlix nor Dak would have sent females into combat.

“The Resistance you are so proud to be a part of is using you as expendable cannon fodder.”

character interview

Character Name: Anika, heroine of Warrior

Character Bio: I am a Parseon female. As with all females, when I reached maturity, my sire sent me to a Breeder Containment Facility in hopes that an alpha would purchase me and I could provide him with sons. But instead, a beta male bought me and we moved to the Enclave, where I got used to freedoms I’d never had before. But then Jergan was killed, and my brother Marlix arranged for me to become the breeder of an Alpha Commander. But that is not what I want anymore.

Describe yourself what is your worst and best quality?

My worst quality is that I am selfish. Instead of performing my duty to Parseon by producing sons for Commander Ilian, I ran away. My best quality? I’m a good shot with a crossbow.

What is the one thing you wish other people knew about you?

It is best that they don’t know anything, otherwise I’ll never be able to kill Qalin.

What is your biggest secret something no one knows about?

I have many secrets. I have joined the Guerilla Resistance Movement against Alpha Qalin, who is trying to become sole Commander of Parseon. And I have great regard for Urazi, my brother’s former aide and partner, but I know he does not share my feelings. His loyalty lies with my brother. Also, people think I am an alpha (a male of status), and not a female.

What are you most afraid of?

On a personal level, being sent to Commander Ilian to become his breeder. For my people, I fear that Commander Qalin will conquer all of Parseon, and then the former will not matter.

What do you want more than anything?


What is your relationship status?

Status? I have no status. I am female.

How would you describe your sense of fashion?

I dress in accordance with Protocol. I wear a beige shift, like all breeders--except when I am disguised as an alpha male. Then I wear the regulation gray alpha uniform.

How much of a rebel are you?

I have violated Protocol repeatedly, and there is a bounty of $150 gilia on my head. I have also killed a man who threatened me. Does that make me a rebel?

What is your idea of happiness?

To be free and to have the regard of a male.

What is your current state of mind?

Determined. Scared.

What is your most treasured possession?

By Protocol, I am not permitted to own anything. I have my uniform, and a pair of Terran boots I borrowed from a friend.

What is it that you, most dislike?

Veronians. They’re aliens from another planet. They’re scaly, dangerous, and they smell.

Which living person do you most despise?

Qalin. He is the most monstrous Alpha Commander ever born.

What is your greatest regret?

That Urazi will never regard me in the way I regard him.

What is the quality you most like in a man?


What is the quality you most like in a woman?

Their giving nature and attention to duty.

Who is your favorite hero in fiction?

– Under Protocol, females are not permitted to read. I would be flogged if I was caught with a book.

Which living person do you most admire?

My friend Tara the Terran. She has more liberties than any other female I know. She surprised me, though, when she surrendered some of her freedoms to become my brother’s breeder. She could choose to do anything she wanted, but she chose that.

If you could change one thing about yourself what would it be?

I would want more courage to face the things I needed to face.

What is your motto?

In Parseon we have only one motto: “Sacrifice of the one for the many.”




Cara Bristol continues to evolve, adding new subgenres of erotic romance to her repertoire. She has written spanking romance, contemporary romance, paranormal, and science fiction romance. No matter what the genre, one thing remains constant: her emphasis on character-driven seriously hot erotic stories with sizzling chemistry between the hero and heroine. Cara has lived many places in the United States, but currently calls Missouri home. She has a husband and two grown stepkids. When she’s not writing, she enjoys reading and traveling the world.

Website blog: http://www.carabristol.com

Amazon author page: http://www.amazon.com/Cara-Bristol/e/B004D8KZTQ/

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/cara.bristol.3

Twitter: @CaraBristol

Monday, October 20, 2014

Book Blast, Giveaway & Hot Interview: Words That Bind by @ashkrafton

Words that Bind Banner TOUR 851 x 315




clip_image002Words That Bind

Ash Krafton

Genre: paranormal romance

Publisher: The Wild Rose Press

Date of Publication: Oct. 10, 2014

ISBN: 978-1-62830-560-9

ISBN: 978-1-62830-561-6

Number of pages: 314

Word Count: 75000

Cover Artist: Debbie Taylor

Book Description:

Social worker Tam Kerish can’t keep her cool professionalism when steamy client Mr. Burns kindles a desire for more than a client-therapist relationship—so she drops him. However, they discover she’s the talisman to which Burns, an immortal djinn, has been bound since the days of King Solomon…and that makes it difficult.

Ethical guidelines are unequivocal when it comes to personal relationships with clients. However, the djinn has a thawing effect on the usually non-emotive Tam, who begins to feel true emotion whenever he is near. Tam has to make a difficult choice: to stay on the outside, forever looking in…or to turn her back on her entire world, just for the chance to finally experience what it means to fall in love.

Available at Amazon and Wild Rose Publishing


“So. You’ve destroyed a stereotype for me. A genie who lives in a library. Different.”

“When in Rome, no?” He stirred his cup before setting down the spoon with a light clink against the saucer. “Or, I suppose it is more accurate to say when in human form. When I am Burns, I prefer here.”

“Human form.” It didn’t sound right. Who said things like that, and meant it? “Can you change into anything you want? Any shape at all?”

He stretched out his legs and cocked his head, sliding his gaze up and away. “I suppose I could. I’m getting old and set in my ways. There’s this…” He swept his hands down the line of his body.

Her eyes were unable to keep from following, not even when he lingered over his midsection. Even lounging, his shirt was tightly tucked into his beltline. No belly fat there.

He tilted his head and gave her an upper-teeth smile, nibbling gently at his lower lip. “And apparently this form is pleasing to the eye, so I wear it often. But there are others. Tiger, a favorite. Savage and regal and the colors of flames in the night. Fearsome to behold, but very useful when dealing with physical conditions in which a human form may be outmatched. Plus, I can lash my tail.”

His voice took a teasing, conspirator’s tone. “I love my tail. You’d love it too, if you saw it.”

She trained her eyes firmly upon his. No way would she give him the pleasure of checking out his tail.

Long Excerpt Chapter One

Damn, but this was a miserable city.

A miserable city, in a miserable season, with a miserable chilly dampness oppressive enough to put out the hottest of fires. If he didn’t have to be here, he’d be reclining on a low couch surrounded by silken-clad women and the open sands of the high desert.

If he didn’t have to be here, he wouldn’t be standing in a cramped parking lot in an East Coast city (really. East Coast. The very thought made him curl his lips in disdain) staring up at a balcony three floors up.

If he didn’t have to be here, he wouldn’t. But it was here, and it was close, and he wouldn’t have to put up with this permeating on-again off-again rain much longer.

The thought of it being so close made him dizzy enough to sway on his feet. Ah, well. Wearing a human form had so many limitations. Take skin, for instance. And this ridiculous human obsession with trousers.

A loud argument erupted on the balcony above, catching his attention.

Women. Of course. Emotional, volatile, dangerous, loud…sometimes, good qualities. Especially where low couches could be found.

On balconies, peppered with vulgar language…just annoying.

Still. It was here, its presence burning like a dull itch in the back of his brain. That particular sensation, too, was annoying, but after so many decades of not feeling it all, it was a good kind of annoying. One that soon would be quenched.


Suddenly, the sensation brightened, became sharper, clearer, like the full moon sliding free of the clouds. The argument stopped.

Ah. Finally. He turned up the collar of his overcoat against the nip of a sudden breeze and tilted his head, scanning the balcony, watching. Waiting.

A young female with tousled purple hair hunched over the railing, resting on her elbows, trying to light a cigarette. Repulsive things, cigarettes. Lacked elegance. Why not a hookah, or even a slender golden pipe? This modern age was all substance. No style.

He unfocused his gaze and looked through the girl. Nothing remarkable about that female whatsoever. She had nothing to do with the object of his desire and so was of no consequence to him. He disregarded her completely.

Another figure appeared at the rail. Another female. This one seized his notice, snapping his spine ram-rod straight.

Long chestnut hair swept in waves over her shoulder, hiding her face. He zoomed in on her and almost fell flat backwards, buckling under the smacking impact upon his heart.

Her. She had it.

Suddenly, the low gray clouds burned off in a blaze of summer brilliance, so great was the feeling in his chest. Hope. Hope eclipsed centuries of despair in that single moment.

She had it!

He side-stepped the BMW behind him, wanting a better angle, wishing to see her face. So intent was he upon the other woman that he nearly missed the cigarette that sailed past his cheek to land on the car. He curled his fists, an oath on his lips. He should be used to the crude behaviors of mortals, but still, how it bristled against his insides. Obviously, they’d been raised by very different mothers.

But then woman turned, and his scowl melted from his face. Her dark eyes met his, a split-second connection that felt like the bite of an electric current. His heart tripped on a beat and he gaped.

Remarkable. This noisy, chaotic city where all was a tangle of technology and confusion and those odd diagonal streets—she stood out: a straight line, a calm constancy, the eye within the storm. He was confounded by the impression of her psyche. Unique was too commonplace a word.

A place to sit. He rubbed his mouth, staring up at her. To sit would be good right now. He didn’t want to end up on his knees, not here amidst the puddles and wet leaves.

The young girl twisted around and hopped up on the rail. Odd. The railing didn’t look wide enough to make a comfortable seat. Well. Considering her choice of hair color, he wasn’t surprised by her action. Obviously, she was a little off.

He thumbed the edge of the business card in his hand, one that bore the address and the name of the counselling center to which the balcony belonged. Of course, she was. Why else would she be visiting a therapist?

Apparently, the bird reconsidered her perch, because she disappeared in the next moment. A piercing shriek sounded, loud enough that he had to cover his ears. It only lasted a few seconds, however, followed by a few more desperate shouts.

And then there came no sound at all, except for the traffic and the sparrows making a racket in the hedges bordering the parking lot. The women and the mental itch had retreated back into the building.

He stood a few moments longer, watching the balcony, hoping for another glimpse of her. But the remarkable woman and that wonderful sensation did not return.

He brushed his fingers together and tugged his suit jacket straight. No matter. She may have that which he sought, but she did not need to come back out.

Because he was going in after it.

And this time, he was going to get it.


Welcome to Darkest Cravings, tell us a little bit about yourself?

I’m a speculative fiction writer from Pennsylvania who has a serious obsession with Darjeeling tea, Bollywood, and shiny things. I practice Tai Chi and am seriously concerned that my sensei is going to have me go through Adrenaline Training. I don’t want to fight the Bulletman!

Writing adult fiction isn’t for everyone, how did you end up writing for the toughest audience?

I never thought of it that way—I think writing for younger audiences is infinitely harder because, as my teen daughter says, I need to learn my boundaries. And, as my husband says, I need filters between brain and mouth/keyboard.

I enjoy writing for adults because I think so much of what we do and think as adults comes from experience of living. I’m not sure I can strip all that away and write without all that experience coloring every word I set down. It’s just who I am.

Most of the intimidating parts of being an adult fiction writer is the steamy scenes, how did you overcome the “stage fright”?

I’m not sure I ever will! But that’s the thrill of it. It never gets old, does it?

Which fictional character would you like to go on a date with? Why?

John Thornton from Elizabeth Gaskill’s “North and South”, but only if Richard Armitage played him again. I’m totally down for and afternoon tea and a lovely ball afterwards. Quiet, reserved, an absolute force of strength and will. I find the nineteenth century romantic in its modesty and decorum and propriety, just as I love historical romance in Bollywood films. I am a very cerebral romantic, so the verbal and visual courting is truly important to me if physical romance is to follow.

Do you think adult fiction have reached its full potential yet, or are we still in for a huge surprise?

There is always room for a surprise. Adult fiction is continually evolving, because people continually grow and change and react in new ways to the world around us. Books will always do their best to keep up with us, and we’re nowhere close to our peaks.

We all have a treasured possession, what is yours?

My grandfather’s big roll top desk.

I grew up sitting at this desk, peeking in all the slots and drawers, trying unsuccessfully to open the cash drawer (which had a finger-operated combination lock.) It was only last year that I was finally able to move it into my home from where it’d sat in Pop’s cellar since the 1940’s. I hugged it and cried when the movers brought it in…it still looked the same, felt the same, even smelled the same.

I don’t get a lot of writing done at that desk, because I’m so distracted. It makes me feel like a kid again, and all I want to do is play!

Are your characters based on real people or did you create them from scratch?

Some characters have been inspired by real people, although I would never tell them so. The ones I create from scratch evolve all on their own, and eventually real people begin to exhibit the characters’ traits.

That always earns me an odd look—when I say things like, “You remind me of this guy I once wrote.”

Do you think adult fiction helps improves relationships?

It believe it has the potential to do it. Since romance literature describes the issues that separate a couple as well as bring them together, a reader has an opportunity to identify with the couple and the issues at hand. The best part about romance literature is that it is so diverse—every kind of couple in every kind of situation. The opportunities are boundless.

If you have to pitch adult fiction to someone that’s too shy to read it, what would you pitch?

Are they too shy to read it, or too sky to own up to it? *grin* Remember the days before ebooks when sky readers would disguise books with other covers so they can read without getting those looks? (You know the looks that I mean…the ones that precede the clucking of a disapproving tongue.) Ebooks mean that readers can enjoy anything they want, without nosy judgement from others.

But if someone was hesitant to read my books out of shyness, I’d be sure to tell them that, while there is a steamy scene or two, I don’t write explicitly. More importantly, though, one or two steamy scenes are just a tiny aspect of the story—WORDS THAT BIND is full of magic and fantasy, of human relationships, of trials and sacrifice…the story has so much more to offer than just “naughty bits”. The focus is on the personal growth of the characters and the emotional depth of their relationship, with a plot of mystery, magic, and suspense.

What’s to be shy about?

What is your motto?

Persevere. All good things are worth the fight to claim and keep.

Why did you choose to write Paranormal/Fantasy?

I was a paranormal kind of girl all my life. Writing in the wonderful spectrum of speculative fiction satisfies all my cravings—fantasy, horror, even science fiction. I also have written short stories and pages upon pages of poetry of every kind of speculative fiction, so I don’t feel limited by and rules or conventions when I daydream or when I write.

What creature/species do you think makes the ultimate lover?

You know, up until this point, I was strictly Team Vampire Boyfriend. However, writing WORDS THAT BIND have led me to a deeper appreciation of the benefits a genie has to offer. *big smile* Broad shoulders, trim waists, and lots of hot-weather outfits, coupled with searing intensity and smoldering glances. I’m sure a genie could make any woman happy.

What creature/species is your favorite?

Vamp, all the way, with a special affection for demivamps.



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Ash Krafton is a speculative fiction author from northeastern Pennsylvania. Krafton’s first novel, Bleeding Hearts was published in 2012 as part of a three-book urban fantasy series The Books of the Demimonde (Pink Narcissus Press).

An urban fantasy novella, Strangers at the Hell Gate, was published by Wild Rose Press in 2013. Her latest project, Words That Bind, won first place in the HeRA RWA “Show Me the Spark” 2013 competition; it is also available through Wild Rose Press as an October 2014 release.

Krafton also writes New Adult speculative fiction novels under the pen name AJ Krafton. Upcoming titles include The Heartbeat Thief, Face of the Enemy, and the award-winning Takin’ It Back. She is part of a YA/NA collective known as the Infinite Ink Authors.

In addition to novel-length fiction, Krafton enjoys writing poetry and short prose, some of which earned distinctions in various writing competitions. One of her poems was also nominated for the Pushcart Prize. She’s a proud member of Pennwriters, Romance Writers of America, and Pikes Peak Writers. Krafton is also a staff blogger for the Query Tracker Blog.

Website Blog Twitter Facebook Goodreads Authorgraph Pinterest

Sunday, October 19, 2014

book Blast: Claiming Their Royal Mate by @AndieDevaux

Claiming their Royal Mate Banner 851 x 315_thumb[1]



clip_image002_thumb[1]Claiming Their Royal Mate:

Part One

Of A Four-Part Serial

Andie Devaux

Genre: Paranormal Erotic Romance /



Number of pages: 63

Word Count: 18,000

Cover Artist: Cormar Covers

Book Description:

Daniella Clark has never fit in—a fact she’s always blamed on being adopted. But when her body is overtaken by a need so fierce it defies human explanation, she turns to the one man she instinctively knows must have the answers she seeks—her sexy-as-sin neighbor. But his explanation isn’t one she can easily accept, and it means her sexual heat won’t go away without his help.

But it turns out her neighbor isn’t the only male she has to worry about. The prime of his people has laid claim to her. And though he radiates sexuality in a way that makes her mouth water, he’s more beast than man. With one weretiger charged to protect her, and the prime's plan to claim her for his own, Daniella must fight to maintain her sense of self, even while they fight for her.

Claiming Their Royal Mate: Part One is an 18,000-word novella, and it is the first entry in a four-part sexy, m/f/m serial. The story contains erotic situations and is intended for mature readers.

Available at Amazon Free October 15-19



Holy crap. How had she accumulated so many clothes that no longer fit?

Barely keeping hold of the bags full of old clothes, Daniella Clark bumped her butt into the door to push it open. Stepping into the hallway, she hit something nearly as hard as the door—something that grunted at the contact. The bags slipped from her fingers to land on the threshold. The hard body she’d run into was attached to a large man blocking her doorway, and her glare didn’t seem to ruffle him at all.

The jerk was always in her way lately.

“Jeez. Way to skulk around my door. What do you want, Owen?” Daniella asked, hating the breathiness in her voice.

Her neighbor stared at her for a moment, and his nostrils flared. Something passed behind his gaze. Something that made her breath catch and tension build between her legs. But just as quickly as it appeared, it was gone. And he shrugged, arrogant mask engaged.

“I was just passing by. Not my fault you didn’t look where you were going.”

The man was seriously aggravating. She could hardly believe they’d been good friends the last year, ever since she’d accidentally locked herself out of her apartment. He’d been kind enough to give her a place to hang out while she’d waited for the building’s superintendent to show up with the key. From then on, they’d hung out at least once a week, sometimes more, depending on her schedule. That is, up until a month ago.

“I’m getting sick of you always being in my way, Owen.” She picked up the bags, needing something to look at that wasn’t her ridiculously hot neighbor. Her attraction to him itself was irritating because he wasn’t her type, even if he did make her weak in the knees. His face was hard, chiseled and memorable, but his features were too strong to be considered traditionally handsome—his nose too Roman and his jaw a little too wide. Not to mention he rarely smiled at her anymore, and she liked men who weren’t afraid to enjoy life.

Heck, that was why she’d liked his company for so long—his easy laughter and quick wit. Over the last month, it was as if he’d turned into a different man. One who didn’t smile much and who was quick to anger.

She tried not to take it personally, but the fact he’d just cut off their friendship, cold as ice, made being the bigger person difficult.

His full head of light brown hair was nice, if always a little too long—as if he were constantly two weeks late to the barber. But he was far bigger than guys she liked to date. Broad and muscled like a man who never left the gym. Although she’d never actually seen him at the gym near their Denver apartment complex, he had to work out somewhere. Men just didn’t achieve that level of muscle naturally.

But despite the fact he didn’t fit her usual mold, she found herself more than just a little attracted to him.

Of course, that was a hopeless cause if ever there was one. She’d seen his dates—all two of them—since he’d moved into the building. They were both model thin, and while she was usually pretty proud of her voluptuous form, no one would ever accuse her of being waif-like.

Her attraction had started with a tremor. Just the slightest quavering of her voice when she spoke to him. Then, just when she’d started looking at him differently, he’d shut down. Stopped talking to her, started making excuses for why he couldn’t hang out with her anymore. But he always seemed to be around. At her door when she walked out. Looking irritated to run into her in the parking lot.

“I was walking through a shared hallway. Would you prefer I jump out the window to get to my truck?” A hint of a smile touched his lips, and her breath caught.

Freaking-A. No way was a simple smile turning her on. She was really starting to dislike her neighbor. “I’d love for you to jump out a window or two. Heck, I’ll even help with a little push.”

And she wasn’t lying. Sure, she wouldn’t really push a man out a window, but something inside of her—the part that was continuously horny, lately—was also feeling pretty violent. It came out at the weirdest times, and it took every ounce of her self-control not to lash out. Probably she needed to go see her doctor about a new birth control or something. Out of whack hormones were likely the cause of her wild emotions.

Not that Owen was helping. He’d chased off two of her dates in the last month. Not by doing anything she could call him out for. No, he was too subtle for that. He’d just drop in to borrow sugar—when she’d never once seen the man bake. Or he’d say he thought he’d smelled gas coming from her apartment, and wanted to check. Then he’d glower in a way that made her dates run for the hills.

And then he started showing up at her apartment when she was feeling particularly…needy.

“Surely you wouldn’t want to see me injured.” His nose flared again, as if he couldn’t get enough of her smell. It was seriously disturbing.

Even more disturbing was the sudden wetness between her legs and the tension coiling in her belly. She really needed to get some if a man she didn’t even like could get her engine revving by smelling her. “I wouldn’t bet on that.”

“You’ll be happy I’m around, Daniella. Very soon.”

She tried to shove past him, but he moved out of her way before they touched, quick for such a large man. Part of her regretted the lack of contact, but the rest of her thought that part was batshit crazy.


Andie writes sexy erotic romance and erotica stories that push boundaries. When she's not writing (or reading!), she can usually be found daydreaming or attempting a new recipe. She thinks that life should require happily ever afters. And since she doesn't make the rules of life, she instead applies this philosophy to the worlds she can control-the ones in her books.

Website: http://andiedevaux.com/

Newsletter: http://eepurl.com/MkT1X

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/authorandiedevaux

Twitter: https://twitter.com/AndieDevaux

Friday, October 17, 2014

Book Blast, Giveaway &Top Ten: Feast of Fates by @AuthorChrisAB

Feast of Fates Banner 851 x315_thumb[1]





clip_image002_thumb[1]Feast of Fates

Four Feasts Till Darkness

Book One

Christian A. Brown

Genre: Fantasy Romance

Date of Publication: September 9, 2014

ISBN: 978-1495907586

Number of pages: 540

Word Count: 212K

Cover Artist: Brian Garabrant

Book Description:

"Love is what binds us in brotherhood, blinds us from hate, and makes us soar with desire.”

Morigan lives a quiet life as the handmaiden to a fatherly old sorcerer named Thackery. But when she crosses paths with Caenith, a not wholly mortal man, her world changes forever. Their meeting sparks long buried magical powers deep within Morigan. As she attempts to understand her newfound abilities, unbidden visions begin to plague her--visions that show a devastating madness descending on one of the Immortal Kings who rules the land.

With Morigan growing more powerful each day, the leaders of the realm soon realize that this young woman could hold the key to their destruction. Suddenly, Morigan finds herself beset by enemies, and she must master her mysterious gifts if she is to survive.

Available at Amazon and Createspace

Book Trailer: http://youtu.be/8E_RVXgpqB8



Menos was darker than usual: its clouds as black as the shadow of fear that haunted Mouse. The city felt more menacing to her. She saw shadows in every corner, noticed the glint of every ruffian’s blade or slave’s chain as though they were all intended for her. The warning of Alastair played inside her skull on a loop of nightmare theater.

A hand over her mouth startles her awake, and she twists for the dagger in her pillowcase until she recognizes the shadowy apparition atop her, who hisses at her to calm.

            “Alastair?” she gasps.

            The hand unclenches and the willowy shadow retreats to more of its own; she can only see the scruff of his red beard in the dark.

            “Get up, Mouse. Get dressed.”

            Her mentor sounds annoyed or confused; she is each, but finds her garments quickly enough anyway.

            “I don’t like good-byes, so let’s not call this that,” Alastair says with a sigh. “But it will be a parting, nonetheless. You need to go low. Lower than you’ve ever been before. A new name won’t be enough. You’ll need a new face. I don’t know how or who, but the sacred contract of our order has been broken. Your safety has been bought.”

            Mouse knows the who and how, and as she glances up from her boot-lacing to explain to her mentor her predicament, she sees that he is gone. Just empty shadows, echoing words, and the sound of her heartbeat drowning out all the rest.

            She expected the dead man and his icy master to emerge from the dim nooks and doorways of the buildings she passed at any instant. With a hand on her knives and a fury to her step, she swept down the sidewalk; no carriages for her today, as they were essentially cages on wheels—too easy to trap oneself in. With its sooty storefronts and their wrought-iron windows, its black streetlamps that rose about her like the bars of a prison, Menos was constricting itself around her, and she had to get out.

You’ve survived worse than the nekromancer, she coached herself, though she wasn’t certain that was true. She hurried through the grimness of Menos, dodging pale faces and quickening her step with every sand. By the time she arrived at the fleshcrafter’s studio, she was sweating and stuck to her cloak. She looked down the desolate sidewalk and up the long sad face of the tall tower with its many broken or boarded-over windows. When she was sure she wasn’t being pursued by the phantoms that her paranoia had conjured, she pulled back a rusted door that did not cry out as it should have, given its appearance, but slid along well-formed grooves through the dust. She raced through the door and hauled it closed.

            It was dark and flickering with half-dead lights in the garbage-strewn hallway in which she stood. Mouse picked through the trash with her feet, tensing as she passed every dark alcove in the abandoned complex. Hives, these places were called, and used to house enormous numbers of lowborn folk under a single roof. In Menos, even the shabbiest roof was a desirable commodity, so the building’s ghostly vacancy meant that it likely was condemned by disease at one point. Soon the stairwell she sought appeared, and she tiptoed down it, careful not to slip on the stairs, which were slick with organic grunge.

Couldn’t have picked a nicer studio, she cursed. I’ll be lucky if this fleshcrafter leaves me with half a lip to drink with. Lamentably, speed and discretion were her two goals in choosing where to have her face remodeled. Such stipulations cut the more promising fleshcrafters off the list and left her with the dregs. She hadn’t put much thought into what she would have done, or even if she would end up hideously disfigured. Monstrous disfigurement could even work in her favor, as she bore an uncanny resemblance to that crow-eviscerated woman whom she suspected was the object of the nekromancer’s dark desire. I’ll take ugly over dead. Over whatever he has in mind for me.


Top Ten List of World Class Heroines (In Literature/ Entertainment)

Those of you who don’t know me—which is probably a rather large amount of folks at the moment—don’t know that I have an aversion to weak female leads. I like women who stand up to adversity, who are quick on their feet, and who are positive role models. I could go on forever about all the Mary Sues in our media, but I believe in putting positive energy out into the world, so here’s a list of some of my favorite female role models in popular culture. (Note: no offence to any actual persons named Mary, or Sue, we’re talking about the meme J)

10. Lady Gaga. Let’s just get all the pop stars out of the way in one lump sum. With the current trends in music, such as J Lo and Nicki’s travesty of a video that set women’s rights back about a decade, the pickings are slim. What was that horrid thing--that can never be unseen—even called? Jiggelz? Arse-pudding? I struggle to recall anything beyond undulating flesh. Anyhoo, I’ll put Lady Gaga on the list since she’s brave enough to wear suits of pastrami and challenges social issues—even if she’s bat-you-know-what bonkers. Honorable mentions for this position go to Tegan and Sara, and Brandi Carlile, for keeping it both soulful AND classy.

9. Sailor Uranus: Gender-bending, sporty and tough! In the Japanese version, she’s written as a lesbian. Which is potentially misogynistic for the presumption that she must be a lesbian to like “manly” pursuits like driving and sports, as well as embracing of diversity for being an openly gay character.

8. Elsa, princess of Arendelle. She chooses family over love and learns how to harness a devastating power within herself. Not too shabby for a Disney Princess.

7. Regina, Evil Queen/ reformed villain. I have a soft spot for characters that evolve into their heroism. In Regina’s case, the love of her child—not even one of her own blood—transformed her into a person that does the right thing. Most of the time. She WAS an Evil Queen, after all. I doubt her edge will ever be dulled.

6. Daenerys Targaryen. She grows from a sold-off-woman into a powerful queen. Her ruthlessness, come certain points, isn’t admirable, so she only lands at #6.

5. Pam, vampire sass-queen of True Blood. I definitely admire the life that Kristen Bauer gave the character in the transition from book to screen. At times her acerbity can wear one’s patience a little thin, but in the last few seasons of the show (as the quality of the script nosedived, in my opinion) her characterization flourished. We saw that Pam had a human heart under all that cynicism. And damn, did she ever have all the good lines!

4. Lady Mary. I think most of Lady Mary’s appeal can be attributed to the actress that plays her, Michelle Dockery. Otherwise an opinionated, scandalous aristocrat could come off as entirely alien and cold. But there’s a warmth to Lady Mary, and a great deal of growth, too, that she experiences after the birth of her child and the loss of her husband. I think that growth is essential to heroism. The capacity for change. Lady Mary demonstrates that in spades with her impressive character arc.

3. Hermione Granger. Smart, humble, pretty—but not vain. Also worth noting is that Emma began the #HeForShe campaign, which is brilliant. Men need to engage themselves in fighting sexism.

2. Xena Warrior Princess. She’s kicked every arse that needs kicking and then some. She’s plain awesome.

1. Morigan Lostarot. Omg—he didn’t! I did. I plugged my own novel. But hear me out as to why she’s so great. Like many heroines, she has a rather unsavory fate thrust upon her, and while she has moments of weakness, she never truly pines or whines. She keeps moving ahead; challenging fate, challenging a demented and dark King. She even finds epic love. Not that she needs a man’s devotion to fulfill herself, only to compliment her. She is independent, resourceful, and has a blend of courage and cautious wisdom. I’m interested to hear what you think about Morigan and the other heroines in Feast of Fates. There are several heroines, and some rather menacing women, too. I promise to surprise and delight you with each.

Thank you for taking the time to read my thoughts today!

All the best,




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clip_image004_thumbChristian A. Brown has written creatively since the age of six. After spending most of his career in the health and fitness industry, Brown quit his job to care for his mother when she was diagnosed with non-Hodgkins lymphoma in 2010.

Having dabbled with the novel that would eventually become Feast of Fates for over a decade, Brown was finally able to finish the project. His mother, who was able to read a beginning version of the novel before she passed away, has since imbued the story with deeper sentiments of loss, love, and meaning. He is proud to now share the finished product with the world.