Marvelous Monday Reads: Love Reawakened
Welcome to another edition of Marvelous Monday Reads, darlings! Today I’m featuring L.M. Spangler and her delicious new Romance On The Go™ Love Reawakened, now available from Evernight Publishing and other purveyors of fine online romance. Take it away, L.M.!
Drea Tate had loved and lost … and gained.
Having been told her lover died and her life was in danger, Drea left her home in the Appalachian Mountains of Pennsylvania to start anew in Cicada Lake.
Micah Bridges had been lured to Cicada Lake by the hefty bounty for catching a wealthy bail jumper.
Imagine their surprise when they meet in the small town’s only bar. And imagine Micah’s surprise when Drea drops a photo of a young boy who looks just like him.
Lies had torn them apart. Can they reawaken the love they once shared? And is there enough love to go around?
Story Excerpt
He stood and pulled her flush against his body. His mouth captured her in a brutal, soul-searing kiss before he lifted his head. “I love you.”
She rubbed the fingertips of her index and middle finger over her lower lip. “I love you, too.”
He grinned as the voices neared. “Good.”
The air around him began to swirl, becoming tornadic. The fire blew out and hot ashes rose, circling around him. Through the glowing haze, he saw her body blur then disappear into the whirlwind. She had become one with the gale.
Her alluring vanilla aroma—so enrapturing—blew away, making it impossible to follow her trail.
Knowing she was safe, he turned toward the brush as his uncle and cousin stepped into the small clearing.
His uncle lifted his nose and inhaled deeply. “So, your bitch eludes us again. No matter.”
His cousin threw his head back and laughed. “You won’t be alive long enough to worry about her anymore.”
“What do you mean?” the alpha-elect asked. Sounds of rustling underbrush signaled the approach of more people. His head turned from side to side. “What’s going on?”
His uncle smirked. “I should inform you that your father has met…” He paused for a moment. “An untimely demise.”
Anger rushed through the alpha-elect like a fireball. “He what?”
The rustling grew louder until four wolves stepped into the clearing.
“What the fuck is going on?”
The wolves surrounded the alpha-elect, circling menacingly.
“He’s dead. And soon you will be, too,” his cousin answered.
His uncle pointed and then all hell broke loose.
The wolves lunged. Claws slashed. Teeth bit. The alpha-elect was attacked on all sides. Pain tore through him as blood had begun to flow from multiple wounds.
Defenseless. It had happed so fast. He couldn’t fight back. He had his strength, but he was no match for four fully matured wolves. He fell to the ground and covered his head as the sound of growls and chomping jaws rent the air.
His life force started to waver. He’d lost too much blood.
He was going to die.
But his last thoughts weren’t of the unbearable, burning pain or betrayal.
They were of her.
Where to Buy
About the Author
L.M. Spangler lives close to the Maryland border in South Central Pennsylvania. Her husband is wonderfully supportive of her in all aspects of her life. She has a son who is currently serving our country in the U.S. Navy. Her daughter is still in school. She’s blessed to have the three of them in her life.
From a young age, she remembers burying her nose in a book. A love that her mother and father passed onto her brother and herself. From her passion for reading sprang her love of writing Her mind is so often full of story ideas from the wildly paranormal to contemporary. She has notebooks lying about with story outlines and character descriptions. A song or TV show can spark an idea ,which circles her mind until she puts the idea on paper.
When she’s not writing, she enjoys spending time with her family, burying her nose in a book, and watching a vast variety of television shows from crime dramas to 1970’s game shows. She even dabbles in crafting. Her favorite craft would be jewelry making. Nothing like creating wearable art.
Fabulous Friday Reads: Gabe’s Revenge
TGIF! Let’s kick off the weekend with Doris O’Connor’s hot new romance Impossible, now available from Evernight Publishing and other purveyors of fine online romance. Take it away, Doris!
Thanks so much for having me on your blog with my new release Gabe’s Revenge. This is book two in my series McLeod Security and a lot darker and longer than the first book. You’ll meet some familiar characters from book one in the series, but don’t worry. There are no spoilers, so the series can be read out of order. 🙂
Gabe and Lissa took me on quite the journey when I was writing their story, so hold on tight, as they find their way to their Happy Ever After.
Revenge is best served cold…
Gabriel Henshaw is nothing but a monster—a ruthless killer—that’s what Lissa Andrini has always been told. Sold to the man by her own father, she fears for her life, yet she can’t help the insane pull she feels to him. It has to be some form of Stockholm syndrome, surely? It couldn’t possibly be the effect of his Dominant nature effortlessly pulling her under his spell and awakening her latent submissive side.
Beating Andrini to a bloody pulp soothes Gabe’s rage temporarily, but that leaves his daughter. Were it not for a promise to her mother, he’d refuse this payment, not least because Lissa Andrini awakens all of his protective and carnal instincts. The perfect counterfoil for his darker needs and desires, she has the power to bring him to his knees.
Can love flourish when you’re a pawn in a dangerous game?
Story Excerpt
“Fuck you, Sir.”
The snarky intonation she put on that title, while she yanked her chin up and did her best to stare him down, should have made him do good on his promise to put her over his knee. However, the slight wobble in her bottom lip, coupled with the way every delectable curve of her body was pressed into his frame, meant any such action would be a very bad idea indeed. He wouldn’t be able to keep his hands off of her, and he didn’t want her first time to be angry sex. She deserved better than that.
“Oh, fuck, we will, my dear, but not now and not here.”
Her eyes grew wide, her already fast breaths sped up even more, and Gabe swallowed a groan. He let go of her and stepped back for some much-needed breathing space. As it was his cock was trying his hardest to break out the confines of the denim surrounding it. Gabe couldn’t even remember the last time he wanted a woman this damn much.
“So, you’re going to add rape to your rap sheet. Murdering innocent women wasn’t enough for you?”
A gasp from behind them alerted Gabe to Mavis’s presence, and sure enough when he turned his head it was to see her standing there. Hands pushed into the pockets of her ever-present apron her lips were pressed into a fine line, signaling her disapproval.
“Parkinson is here, Gabe,” she said.
“Thank you, Mavis, I’ll be there in a minute.”
She nodded, glanced at Lissandra and shook her head.
“Tell her the truth, Gabe, all of it. Or this will never work.”
With that, she turned and left them alone on the terrace.
“Oh my God, she knows, doesn’t she? I thought she was nice and I could trust her. Oh, I’m such a fool.”
Lissandra tried to get past him, but he stepped in her way.
“Lissa, don’t.” She pushed against his chest in a vain effort to make him move and then glared up at him.
“Don’t you dare call me that. Only Mama ever called me that. Don’t you fucking dare…” She slammed her hand over her mouth and shook her head. Misery and despair rolled off of her in waves, and Gabe had to fight the urge to take her in his arms. She wouldn’t welcome that move right now, if ever, and now was not the time.
Instead he crossed his arms over his chest, widened his stance, and simply looked at her.
“I’ll call you anything I damn well, please, little girl, and you will lose the attitude. I told you last night, you’re mine now, so you better get used to it. As for Mavis, she is the most loyal person I ever met. Without her, I doubt I would have survived my childhood, so you be nice to her, do you hear me?”
“Or what? You’ll kill me, too?” The mumbled reply grated, and he took several deep breaths to calm himself.
“If I wanted you dead, you’d be six feet under already, girl. After the hit on your father went wrong, I’ve never trusted anyone else to do the killing for me ever again.” He waited for that to sink in, and sure enough her head came up, and she stared wide-eyed, confusion evident on her face.
“I thought… it wasn’t…”
“No, little girl. I’m not such a bastard that I would rob a child of its mother, especially when that mother’s only crime was falling in love and staying with that fucker, Andrini. Besides, I prefer to kill with my hands. Much more satisfying.” He uncrossed his arms and wrapped his hands around her slender throat. Her heartbeat jumped under his palms, and he squeezed just once before he released her. “To feel the life draining out a piece of scum that crossed me … that’s sweet.”
“You’re a monster.” Her whispered reply made him grin.
“Yes, I suppose I am. You better get used to it, little girl, and don’t get any silly ideas of crossing me. You behave and do as you’re told, and we’ll get along just fine.”
She swallowed hard, but gave the tiniest nod, and that would have to do for now.
“Good girl, that wasn’t so hard now, was it?”
“So, you’ll kill me if I don’t behave?” She mimed quotation marks around that one word and nudged her chin up in a move of defiance that simply served to make him harder. It would be fun to tame all that passion, indeed, and knowing that he would be the first man ever to touch her, to teach her … fuck, what a turn-on that was. Gabe had never cared much about being the first. He wasn’t possessive over the women he fucked. That would mean he cared about them to be anything more than a convenient set of holes to sink his dick into, but this was Lissandra Andrini. His revenge and he was fast beginning to realize his destiny, too. Whether she’d also prove to be his downfall remained to be seen.
“Killing is too easy an out. That’s the only reason Andrini still lives. I want him to suffer, to wallow in his own filth. Death is too good for the likes of him. As for you…” He paused and smiled. “I’ve already told you what I’ll do to you. And once that ass of yours is red raw I will fuck it, so, maybe I’ll kill you after all with the petit mort, at least.”
Her sharp intake of breath almost sounded like a moan, and acting on instinct, he stepped closer, and shoved his hand under her robe to cup her mound. Wet heat greeted his palm, and he smirked, while a blush suffused her pale skin.
“What are you? You can’t … oh…” She tried to clamp her legs together, but one shake of his head stopped her. He forced himself to remove his hand, looked at the glistening evidence of her arousal on his palm and held it up for her to see.
“Protest all you want, Lissa. Hate me if you must, but your body doesn’t lie.” He licked the wetness off his hands and immediately regretted that, as her feminine musk hit his nostrils. Damn, she smelled good.
“I do, I hate you.” Her denial was too breathy to be truly effective, and Gabe laughed.
“No problem, my sweet. You don’t have to like me to enjoy fucking me. Now, go and get dressed, and meet me in the living room in ten minutes. Don’t make me wait, or so help me I drag you out there like this or maybe naked.” He grinned at her simmering outrage. “I’m sure my men would enjoy the view.”
“You wouldn’t dare?”
Gabe threw his head back and laughed.
“Oh, my sweet, never dare the monster.”
Where to Buy
Evernight Publishing | Amazon US | Amazon UK | Barnes & Noble | Kobo | iTunes | Smashwords
About the Author
Doris is a writer of sensual, sassy, and sexy tales involving alpha heroes to die for, and heroines who give as good as they get. From contemporary to paranormal, Sci-fi, BDSM, M/M, and Ménage, haunting love stories are guaranteed.
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Wicked Wednesday Reads: Wrapped Up In Stripes
Happy Independence Day, Americans! And for the rest of our neighbors on Spaceship Earth, Happy Wednesday! Today I’m here with Sarah Marsh and her hot new paranormal romance Wrapped Up In Stripes, now available from Evernight Publishing and other online sellers. Take it away, Sarah!
As the daughter of the Alpha of the Blue Valley lion pride, Heidi should have the pick of the litter when it comes to dating, but her brothers think differently. Surprised with a trip on a very exclusive cruise, she’s excited to explore her fantasies. Bondage? Submission? Ménage? …yes, please! If this is her chance to experience everything she’s ever fantasized about, then Heidi is going to go for broke.
Who has time for pleasure? There’s far too much work to do. Wild Desires cruise line is having issues, and Mason and Wade plan to get to the bottom of it. They didn’t anticipate finding a lioness that has his tiger utterly fascinated. Neither of them seems to be able to resist the temptation sweet little Heidi presents.
Why fight fate when it presents them with such a tasty treat? Good thing they’ve always preferred to share.
Story Excerpt
“Wade!” she laughed as he bumped into the couch because he was too busy nibbling at her neck, “you’d better not drop me.”
“Ah, baby,” he gently placed her down on her feet once again, this time in front of a very large bed, “you know I’d gladly kiss any bumps or bruises better.”
“In fact,” Mason’s low, sexy baritone sent shivers down her spine. He had turned on a few small lamps, giving the room a low glow before he approached her. “Maybe we’d better check you over anyway, just to make certain you’re all right?”
Heidi’s heart was pounding now, her entire body aching for their touch. She stepped out of her shoes, kicking them to the side. The thin panties she’d worn tonight were already soaked through with desire, and glancing down at the dress pants both men wore didn’t help that situation at all. She could see the impressive outline of their hard flesh along their legs, and she longed to feel that firmness inside her.
“Hmm, yes, maybe you should check for yourself, then?” She smiled and turned around slowly, presenting them with her back and the strings that would untie her dress. Heidi had been fantasizing all through dinner whenever their fingers had played with that bow.
Wade groaned as he stepped closer and traced the criss-cross pattern of the strings along her back until he finally rested his hand at the top of her ass, the heat of it making her bite her lip to stifle her own reaction to his touch.
“Baby, since I first saw the back of this dress all I could think about was pulling on this little red bow,” he whispered, placing soft kisses on her bare shoulders.
“Every time one of you touched my back tonight, I imagined what it would be like if you had pulled on those strings right there at the table.” She closed her eyes and shared the forbidden place her fantasy had taken her.
“Oh? And then what would have happened?” Mason urged her on as his fingers ran a light path along her collarbone and then followed the edge of the neckline down, taking her breath away.
Just then, she felt the small tug at her dress that could only mean that Wade’s fingers were pulling on that bow, and when the pressure finally gave way, she could feel the strings along her neck move just a fraction.
“The dress would have slowly lowered,” she kept her eyes closed, imagining they were still in a restaurant full of people, “until it had pooled at my waist, revealing my bare breasts for you.”
Heidi felt the silky material of the dress move along her skin until it stopped at her waist, the cool air in the room causing her nipples to pebble. She still didn’t open her eyes as she heard the low purrs coming from her mates as she was bared to them.
“And then?” Wade’s voice was barely recognizable, thick with desire.
Heidi was almost panting at this point. She had never been this excited or turned on before, it was almost painful how much she wanted them, how her body longed to be joined to theirs. She supposed Mother Nature really didn’t pull any punches when it came to mating—it was glorious in its ferocity.
“Then you would put your mouth on me,” she whispered back, only seconds before she felt the tip of a warm tongue run a circle around her turgid nipple.
She slowly opened her eyes to see the inky darkness of Mason’s black hair in front of her as he finally closed his lips fully over her breast, his tongue playing with the sensitive flesh, making her moan out his name.
“We like that little fantasy of yours a great deal, baby, but I think we’re at our limit for restraint tonight,” Wade growled out the words and then released the strings holding up the rest of her dress, letting the silky red material float to the floor, leaving her in only her panties.
Mason drew hard on her breast before he let it go and moved his hands up to trace over the wet skin his mouth had left behind. “And we will be revisiting that fantasy, make no mistake, love. But look at you—I think you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”
Both men took a small step back, simply admiring her in a way no one ever had before. The heat in their eyes made her feel more beautiful than she had ever felt under a man’s gaze. It felt so natural to be with them like this, and her own beast preened inside of her. Heidi slowly brought her hands to the waist of her panties and ran a teasing finger along the inside of the lace.
“I think you both have way too many clothes on,” her eyes moved to where Wade was absently stroking his fingers along his covered cock as he watched her, “so I’m just going to take a time-out while you remedy that.”
Heidi first peeled down her panties, letting them drop to the floor beside her dress, and the tortured groans from both men as she slowly crawled onto the bed and up toward the headboard was exactly the reward she’d been hoping for.
Then she settled herself with her back resting against the headboard, looking forward to seeing her mates for the first time in all their naked glory. They certainly didn’t disappoint—both had intense expressions on their faces as they rid themselves of their ties and button-down shirts. Both strong bodies were darkly tanned and thickly muscled, although Wade’s physique was slightly bulkier than Mason’s refined lines. Their shoes and socks went second as their hands moved to their belts and Heidi suddenly had the urge to giggle as she felt like a kid on Christmas morning about to receive the best presents ever. When their zippers went down and revealed that both men were bare under those expensive slacks, it was her turn to groan, the lioness inside her wanting to taste her mates. She could see the thick roots of their cocks, and when they finally dropped those pants to the floor, her instincts found her crawling back towards them.
“That look on your face, love,” Mason’s voice was low and intense. “If you keep looking at us like you want to eat us up, I may end up embarrassing myself here.”
She watched his hand move down to stroke his thick cock, which was standing at attention. A small bead of moisture collected at the swollen head, and he groaned when she licked her lips, wondering what his flavor would be like. The drive to attack them both until they’d spent themselves inside her was overwhelming in its intensity. She needed them now, and there was simply no time for slow loving—her beast would not be swayed.
“I need to taste you both.”
Where to Buy
Evernight | Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Kobo | Bookstrand
About the Author
Sarah Marsh was born in British Columbia, she has only recently began her writing career finding it the perfect outlet for taking the edge off a nine to five office job. She’s been a science fiction and romance junkie for years and when her imagination started to take the characters she’d read about even further in their adventures she decided to try writing something of her own.
Sarah’s also a former pastry chef and spends a lot of time cooking and baking for friends and family as well as painting and knitting. Her biggest weaknesses are animals of any kind…she even loves the ones that wake you up at four in the morning because they can almost see the bottom of their food dish.
When it comes to life in general she’s a big believer that laughter is the best medicine and that there’s no such thing as too much love, which is why she’s such a sucker for a happy ending.
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Mid Week Tease: Shifter Woods: Snarl #MidWeekTease #MWTease
Hello, lovelies! I’m back, and this week I’m teasing you with some more from the third installment in my Esposito County Shifters series, Shifter Woods: Snarl. Some background: Jack Hawthorne is a ex-SEAL and wolf shifter who shows up in Esposito County looking for work at his former commanding officer’s ski lodge. He never expects to find his mate there as well — except that Kate Chandler is a cougar shifter, can’t smell due to a childhood accident (and thus can’t recognize Jack as her mate), and is the daughter of Jack’s former commander. As I like to say, hijinks ensue!
Many thanks to Angelica Dawson for hosting us, and make sure to hit the list after the teaser to see other great Mid Week Teases!
“I like you, Jack. And I’d like to go to bed with you. I hope that doesn’t shock you.”
He choked back a laugh. If his dick got any harder it was going to break the zipper on his jeans. “It doesn’t.”
She leaned forward, celadon eyes glowing in the soft light from the fireplace. “And I get the impression you want the same thing.”
Oh, Christ yes. His wolf raised its muzzle and howled. It took every ounce of self-control he had to stay on his side of the couch. “Yeah, I do,” he said roughly.
Her eyes narrowed. “Then why do you keep holding me off? Did my dad say something to you?”
And there it was. He let out a long breath through his nose, struggling to keep his desire on a tight leash. “Pretty much. You know what he’s like. You’re a no-fly zone as far as he’s concerned.”
Her lips pursed, making them even more plump and kissable. An insanely hot image of them wrapped around his cock as her tongue massaged the underside of his shaft surged through his mind, making him want to howl along with his wolf. “I’m thirty years old, Jack. I can assure you, I haven’t been a virgin for well over a decade. And while I love my dad, he doesn’t get to decide who I sleep with.” She pushed the popcorn bowl towards him and stood up.
Before he could ask what she was doing, she took her sweater’s hem and pulled it up in a slow, teasing motion. It revealed smooth, creamy skin over sleek muscles and a set of small, round breasts cupped in a scrap of blue lace that was more confection than bra. His mouth went dry at the sight, hands burning to rip off that lace, free those perfect tits, kiss and suck them until all he could taste was her.
Smiling, she shook her hair free of the neckline and let the sweater drop onto the great room’s rug. “I’m going to my room. You can join me, if you want, or you can watch the rest of the movie. It’s your choice.”
Turning, she sauntered off, hips swinging hypnotically. It took him two tries to find the remote control and turn off the TV before he followed.
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I’m Still Here (oh, and please buy my books — I have an A/C repair to pay off)
Sorry about the radio silence — between trying to get various books formatted and out (my very first romance novel Storm Season has been re-released with a new cover and re-edited content, AND it’s on sale for 99¢ — go take a look!), the increasingly scary situation going on with our current administration, the #GetLoud crusade against bookstuffers and assorted scammers, me taking a jewelry fabrication course, and assorted other things I’ve been a little busy.
The latest event was our downstairs A/C unit going out over the weekend — as it’s been flirting with triple digits here in the clavicle of Texas, this was not a laughing matter. The repairman came today and we now have cool air again for just a shade under a grand. *sigh* So if you need something entertaining to take your mind off things, I currently have five titles on sale for 99¢:
- Storm Season (Olympic Cove 1)
- To My Muse
- Red Robin and the Huntsman (A Two Thrones Novella)
- Empress of Storms (Two Thrones 1)
- Shifter Woods: Howl (Esposito County Shifters 1)
To My Muse will be coming off sale on 7/1 and Degree of Resistance will be taking its place, so if you haven’t read my hilarious romcom yet go get a copy while it’s still ridiculously cheap.
But not all is doom and gloom around the Cameron manse. The #GetLoud campaign, spearheaded by the brilliant Suzan Tisdale, Heather C. Leigh, Bianca Sommerfield, and David Gaughran, has finally generated enough complaints and bad press that the Big River are now taking down bookstuffers. Not all of them are gone, mind you — I still counted at least three in the top 20 of Romantic Comedy a few minutes ago — but the ranks are definitely looking different now. And if Amazon sticks to their guns and doesn’t let these people create new accounts (which according to their TOS is what’s supposed to happen), we may actually have a respite where KU has real, legitimate novels in it again.
At least, until the stuffers figure out a new scam. Which they will, because they’re unethical hacks who simply want to make money. In the meantime, however, I’m going to experiment and put Red Robin and the Huntsman back into KU for three months because it’s not really selling wide, and if it attracts readers in KU that might persuade them to check out the rest of the Two Thrones series (the next book, King of Blades, should be out in November, BTW).
Also, I’m finishing up Shifter Woods: Snarl (see cover at left) and that will be out on 7/10, so mark your calendars! The final novella in the current series, Shifter Woods: Scream (which is Deputy Jane’s story — the eagle shifter finds herself mated to a hot tiger shifter AND a half-elf zoologist in a crossover with Siobhan Muir’s Cloudburst, Colorado series), will be out sometime in September, and then I have to think about a plot for a full-length Esposito County Shifters novel. One possibility is Caleb and Laurie finally getting married — that is, if she can take time out from her new big story and he can deal with a group of religious preppers who are trying to set up a compound in the county. All of the characters from the novellas will be in that one, and I can build from there.
Bookstuffers, #IndieResistance, and #GETLOUD
Well! Looks like there’s been a lot of positive reaction to #GETLOUD. Everyone who is supporting Suzan Tisdale, Heather C. Leigh, David Gaughran, Ivy Quinn, and the other authors on the front lines of this fight, you rock SO hard.
I’m a latecomer to this fight, BTW. Those people I mentioned above are the true leaders in this struggle. I’m just an indie author who’s trying to make an honest living slinging words. But when I see bookstuffers using loopholes to drain money out of KU, yeah, I’m pissed. And to the sock puppet accounts who are trying to debate real indie authors with some laughable tactics (logical rigor is not their strong suit) and generally stir up trouble — ain’t gonna work, pumpkins. We’re on to your tactics. So are readers. So is the media.
Although if I’m honest, I have to laugh — one sock puppet account called a debut author out for her comments on bookstuffers, saying that she knew nothing about the business. I replied that I’ve been in it for twenty-three years and the debut author was right. I got a snide response of, “Well, a lot of things have changed since 1995.” Actually, yes, they have, which is how we wound up in this current situation. But you know one thing that hasn’t changed since 1995? The drive to tell a good story. That’s what separates the writers from the packagers (if they’re so pissed off about being called bookstuffers). A writer is in this field because they want to tell stories. They want to entertain, enlighten, make people think. Whereas a bookstuffer wants to load as much ghostwritten material into a book as possible and siphon off as much money from readers as possible, often guilting them into being human click farms in the process. See the difference? Anyone who says, “Getting into the Amazon top 100 is expensive, but you can make money if you can do it” — folks, that’s not a writer. That’s an opportunist. It’s all about the money with them. They don’t care about entertaining you. They just want you to make it rain $ on them.
As I’ve said elsewhere, writers know that writing isn’t a way to get rich. It’s a way to do the thing you love, and hopefully make enough money to pay your bills. Sometimes, you get lucky and you make a bundle off your work. But believe me, that’s not common (Lord, I wish it was). Would I love to get rich off my work? Oh, hell yes. But if that ever happens (hey, Hollywood, I have a romcom that would make a GREAT movie), I can take pride in knowing that it happened because *I put in the work.* I busted my ass to become a good writer.
And that’s what every other legitimate indie author is doing right now. Suzan Tisdale is putting in the work. Heather C. Leigh is putting in the work. Ivy Quinn? Working. David Gaughran? Working. Bianca Sommerland, oh, hell yes, she’s working. Indie authors are sweating bullets to tell you a damn good story, all putting in the work. Not one of these folks are packaging up unedited ghostwritten material, slapping a sexy cover on it, and convincing/tricking/begging people to click to the end so that they get unearned page reads. A real indie author knows what it means to be a writer, a teller of tales.
So, to bring this around, bookstuffers know that their cash cow is drying up, and they’re running scared and trying to stir up trouble to hide their tracks. That’s not going to work. Too many people know about their tactics, now. The balance is shifting. But as Bianca said, it’s going to take time to put things back on a level playing field. Hang in there. Tell Amazon to do the right thing. Keep supporting legitimate indie authors. Be excellent to each other. And stay awesome.
Another open letter to Jeff Bezos
I’m sure that many of you in Romancelandia have been hearing about the michigas surrounding bookstuffers and how they’re leaching money out of Kindle Unlimited at an astounding rate. This is something that will affect readers as well as writers, because if enough authors can’t make a living with their books and have to take other jobs to pay the bills, it means less books to read apart from yet another variant on The Dirty Billionaires Next Door And Their Secret Baby (A Compilation).
Christ, I hope that’s not a real book.
Anyway, it turns out that anyone can write an email to Jeff Bezos, the head honcho at Amazon, and so I have just sent off the following letter. If you’re an author tired of seeing your KU income dwindle in favor of some faceless businessman using underhanded tactics to pimp their “compilation” on KU, or you’re a reader tired of wading through acres of prettily covered crap in hopes of finding a decent book, you might want to write him, as well. There’s strength in numbers, and if Amazon realizes that this could hit their bottom line they will take action.
Dear Mr. Bezos:
My name is Melanie Fletcher. I write SF under my own name and romance under the name Nicola Cameron, and since November 2015 I’ve also been able to self-publish my work using the Kindle Direct Publishing system. At first, I was absolutely delighted with KDP; it gave me an opportunity to publish novels that weren’t easily marketable by the Big Five publishers in NYC, and I was able to build on my readership with my first self-pubbed novel, Empress of Storms. Empress wound up earning a little over $16,000, mainly via Amazon, and that gave me hope for a viable career as an independent author.
Except that Empress’s sequel, Palace of Scoundrels, didn’t do nearly as well as the first book. Sequels rarely match the success of the first book in a series, but Palace’s sales were unusually lackluster considering that there had been numerous requests for a sequel and I performed all the same promotion activities that I used for Empress. The reviews for Palace were uniformly good, from Amazon reviewers as well as from professional review sites, so its drop in sales puzzled me.
But I shrugged it off as a learning experience and wrote a SF romance, thinking that putting out a separate title might help. It didn’t sell well. I went back and wrote another sequel for Empress. It didn’t sell well. I then wrote a contemporary romantic comedy, one of the most popular subgenres of romance there is. You can guess how the sales went for that. I’ve done due diligence on all my books with regards to promotion — purchasing advertising for them, sending out review copies, haunting social media to talk them up, appearing at romance conventions to advertise them, everything that a legitimate indie author needs to do in order to get the word out about their book.
But despite uniformly good reviews, both on and off Amazon, my sales were getting increasingly worse despite a growing backlist. I spoke with other indie authors and they all complained about the same thing—their sales at Amazon were plummeting. When an indie author such as Sam Crescent, who has a huge, loyal fanbase and can produce titles monthly, was seeing her sales dwindling, I didn’t have a shot in hell of saving my career.
And then I learned about bookstuffers who were gaming the KU system. I’m sure you’ve well aware of the situation by now and how they use scam tactics such as adding extra books to a title and instructing their readers to flip to the end in order to have all the pages register as having been read. Not only are they driving out legitimate authors from KU, but their tactics then gamed Amazon’s ranking algorithms and pushed them into bestseller slots that, frankly, they didn’t deserve. This hijacking of Amazon’s ranking system has had a number of unfortunate knock-on effects — it’s rendered Amazon’s ranking system is no longer a reliable tool for readers searching for new titles and authors, and it’s pushed legitimate indie authors like me completely out of the spotlight. As for KU, I can’t afford to put my books in it anymore. I would have to have tens of thousands of page reads of my titles just to match a bookstuffer’s “compilation.”
Mr. Bezos, I don’t want the KU system to shut down. Not only does it makes you money, but it allows a LOT of readers who don’t have extra cash for books to read as much as they like, and maybe even find a new favorite author. I’ve included my titles in KU for that very purpose before I realized it was losing me income and had to stop. I would love to be able to put my books in KU again, but for that to happen it needs to be made equitable. Changing your terms of service to forbid more than 10% of “extra” material in a book will not stop bookstuffers—they’ll just find another way to game the system, as they already have by labeling their stuffed books “compilations.” I am begging you to have your programming team take a good, hard look at KU and come up with a robust method of monitoring it and preventing such abuses. Pattern analysis that recognizes extra material already in KU as a standalone title, or repetitive use of extra material in multiple titles (where a bookstuffer publishes Book A with BCDEF extra material, Book B with CDEFA extra material, Book C with DEFAB extra material, etc.) and flags a title for removal is one way of doing this. I know this would be a serious undertaking, but sir, I’ve heard from numerous readers who are now saying that they’ve been burned too many times by KU scammers and are cancelling KU or will only read Big Five books or titles from trusted authors. This is what the bookstuffers have done with their rampant abuse of KU; while they’re only hurting my bottom line at the moment, if they keep driving people away from KU they’ll eventually start hurting yours as well.
Thank you for your attention to this matter.
Best,
Melanie Fletcher/Nicola Cameron
The one where I’m on USA Today’s HEA blog
Or as I like to put it, SQUEE!
USA Today’s Happy Ever After blog has me on today with an interview talking about To My Muse, where I get my ideas from (everywhere), what distracts me (five cats), and what I looked like back in the 1980s (there’s a picture. I warn you). So if you want to know what makes me, me, go on over and check it out!
In other writing news, the rights to Storm Season have reverted to me and I’m bringing out a re-edited edition of it next Tuesday, including a spandy new cover! I’m also distributing ARCs for reviews tomorrow, so if you’re a blogger/reviewer and you’re interested, DM me with your preferred ebook format/email or fill out the form here.
And finally, I’m putting the finishing touches on Shifter Woods: Snarl. The plan was to have it out by 6/12 but it got bumped by Storm Season, so you can expect to see it on 7/4. I’m experimenting with the common wisdom that Amazon promotes you more widely if you bring out a title every 30 days, so that’s what I’m going to do for the rest of the year. Right now, the schedule is:
- June: Storm Season (Olympic Cove 1)
- July: Shifter Woods: Snarl (Esposito County Shifters 3)
- August: Behind the Iron Cross (historical MMF)
- September: Uncertainty Principle (Pacifica Rising 2)
- October: Shifter Woods: Scream (Esposito County Shifters 4)
- November: King of Blades (Two Thrones 4)
- December: Two Thrones holiday novella
It’s not as insane as it sounds — Storm Season is already done, SW:S is a novella and almost done, Behind the Iron Cross is 80% done, and I have the plots for all the other books and novellas already worked out. Let’s see if I can pull this off!
Wicked Wednesday Reads: Bull
Whee, it’s Wednesday! Never fear, for today I’m here with Harley Wilde and her hot new MC romance Bull (Dixie Reapers MC #4), now available from Changeling Press and other online sellers. Take it away, Harley!
Have you always wanted to write?
I’m not sure that “want” is the correct word to use. It’s more like I “have” to write. If I go too long without putting words on the page, I get a little squirrely. Creative writing assignments were my favorites, even as far back as grade school, so getting to write full-time is a dream come true for me. I never set out to be a published author, but I’m glad I took a chance and submitted that first manuscript.
You write Contemporary Erotic Romance. Is that what you read, too?
Sometimes. I read a little bit of everything, as long as romance is the central theme. Contemporary, Western, Science Fiction, Paranormal…even Young Adult. When I go to the bookstore, the YA section is actually my first stop. For some reason, I prefer my YA books in paperback and my adult romances in ebook.
Do you write long-hand or only on the computer?
I actually have Lupus and osteoarthritis, so writing by hand isn’t really an option for me. Most days, I can barely hold a pen. My handwriting, which was once quite pretty, is now the absolute worst chicken scratch. Typing is easier on my hands, and I type a lot faster than I write.
About how many words a month do you average when you’re writing?
Around 50,000 to 65,000 on average. I’ve written as much as 90,000 in a month before though. It doesn’t happen often, but sometimes inspiration strikes and just won’t let go. I really enjoy those months!
Dixie Reapers MC is your current series. Can readers expect more from you in 2018?
I’ll have more Dixie Reapers books out, but I’m also starting a spinoff series called Devil’s Boneyard. I’m hoping book 1 in the new series will be available in July of this year. If all goes according to plan, I’ll alternate between the two series through the end of the year.
Tell us about your current book.
Bull is book 4 in the Dixie Reapers series, but readers met him in book 1 (Venom). I had quite a few people express an interest in Bull getting his own story, and I hated that he’d never found love. Despite the fact he has a grown daughter, he’s never had a meaningful relationship, and I wanted to fix that. I hope readers will enjoy Bull and Darian’s story as much as I loved writing it.
Darian:
When the guy I’d been seeing turned out to be a rapist sleezeball, I ran…and it let me straight to him. They call him Bull, and I can see why. The guy is massive, and I do mean everywhere. He’s so much older than me, but I can’t seem to care. The way he holds me, murmurs softly to me, I feel safe. No one’s ever cared what happened to me, but he does. I can tell he wants me, even though he’s fighting himself. But he doesn’t have to…because I’m his. I’ve held onto my virginity all these years, but I want him more than I ever thought I’d want someone. I want his hands on me, his body over mine. And for once, I’m going to get what I want. And I want Bull.
Bull:
Darian’s younger than my damn daughter, but there’s something about the sweet girl that draws me closer. When I look in her eyes, I see that she’s a fighter, but I can also see that she’s been badly broken, and I want to be the one to put the pieces back together. I have nothing to offer her. There’s more than twenty years between us, and I know I need to walk away. I’m just a dirty old man who wants her under me. I’m hard as a damn post anytime she’s nearby, and I have to fight the urge to spread those creamy thighs of hers and drive into her, claiming her body and making her mine…until I have no fight left in me. I wanted to be a better man, to walk away, but I can’t. She begs me so sweetly, and soon I can’t resist anymore. She’s mine. And any fucker who tries to take her from me is going to die a slow and painful death.
Story Excerpt
Bull didn’t hesitate when he entered the house, but strode into the living room and eased me down onto the couch. He flicked on a lamp and as the room flooded with light, I was surprised to see that he seemed much older than my twenty-one years. There were lines at the corners of his eyes, but he was a very handsome man. As I took in the details of his face, I felt this intense pull toward him. I’d seen attractive men before. Well, mostly boys. But there was something about him, something different. The look in his eyes said he’d seen shit I couldn’t even fathom, and yet the way he watched me… it made me feel all warm and gooey inside.
He pulled off his leather jacket and tossed it onto a chair, and I felt my eyes widen as I took in his broad chest and large biceps. There was some sort of leather vest over his T-shirt, but I couldn’t read the writing. Even if the lines on his face hadn’t belied his age, there was no mistaking his body for that of a boy. He was definitely all man. The T-shirt he wore was stretched tight across him, and my fingers itched to see if his chest was as hard as it looked. I could understand now why they called him Bull. The man was huge. My gaze dipped down below his belt and my cheeks flushed when I saw his cock straining against his zipper. Yeah, he was big. Everywhere.
“What’s your name?” he asked, drawing my attention away from what was hidden in his jeans.
“Darian. Darian Crosse.”
“You don’t sound like you’re from around here.”
I shook my head. “I’m from Georgia. The guy I was seeing told me about this awesome party and brought me here.”
Bull’s eyebrows rose. “And where is he now?”
“Probably still looking for me.”
Bull rocked back on his heels, shoving his hands into his pockets. I was too busy admiring him again to say anything more. I couldn’t say he was beautiful, but I’d never met anyone like Bull before. I felt like I could look at him all day.
“Is he the one you’re running from?” Bull asked.
“Him and the others,” I murmured, still admiring him.
His eyes narrowed. “What others?”
I tipped my head back and closed my eyes a moment. Their faces flashed in my mind, with their leering smiles. Bile rose in my throat as I thought about the words I’d heard, their intentions toward me, and their complete lack of humanity. Fear and revulsion rolled through me, and I knew I was damn lucky to have gotten away.
I focused on him again, trying to shake free from the horror of what had nearly happened to me. “The party Leo took me to expected me to be the entertainment, even though I hadn’t known that at the time. I’d confessed to Leo a few days ago that I was a virgin and was waiting for the right guy and the right time. I thought he was understanding and might be the one. I didn’t realize he was excited about my virginity for another reason.”
“That doesn’t explain the others you mentioned. Who were they?”
“Leo tried to drug me earlier, but I didn’t take the pills. When we got into town, we drove to some rundown place. I think it’s a few miles from here, but I honestly don’t know how far I ran. It was a house full of guys. Some looked younger than me and some looked older. Maybe late twenties or early thirties. When we stepped into the house, I realized quickly I was the only girl there. The guys weren’t quiet about their plans. They were going to take turns with me. All twelve of them and one said he was willing to pay Leo to be the one to take my virginity. Thankfully, it looked like they’d already been partying pretty hard, and they were either drunk, stoned, or both.”
A chill entered his eyes and his hands clenched at his sides. Suddenly the protective man who had been so tender with me looked more like a Viking warrior about to go off to battle. With his long blond hair and beard, I could easily see him with a sword, or whatever Vikings had used in times of war.
“They were going to gang rape you?” His voice sounded calmer than he looked. Anger poured off him in waves.
My throat tightened and I swallowed as tears filled my eyes. I hadn’t admitted to myself yet that that’s what they’d planned. Oh, I’d run the moment I’d realized what they were going to do, but I’d pushed it to the back of my mind and not used that word, breaking it down into pieces I could stomach instead of looking at the whole picture.
Bull noticed my distress and sank down onto his haunches in front of me. Some of the anger had faded from his eyes, and the tender guy who had picked me up off the pavement was back. He reached for me slowly, brushing tears off my cheeks that I hadn’t even realized I’d shed. That was enough to make the dam break and I started crying in earnest. Bull gathered me in his arms and sat on the couch, settling me in his lap. Cradled against his broad chest, I felt like nothing could harm me. I clung to him, my hands twisted in the fabric of his shirt, as I soaked him with my tears. He didn’t seem to mind though, murmuring words of comfort to me.
Despite my distress over what had nearly happened to me, I felt completely safe in his arms. Being held by him was almost like coming home. That sense of rightness, of belonging. I’d never had that before, and it startled me that I would feel it now, with a complete stranger. I’d tried to always trust that inner voice though, and mine was saying that Bull was different, special.
“If they come here, will that guy at the gate tell them I’m here?” I asked as I got myself under control again.
“No. Johnny won’t say a word to anyone about you being here. Except maybe to Torch.”
I sniffled. “You all have weird names.”
Bull chuckled. “They’re road names. I’m part of the Dixie Reapers MC. Bull is what they call me.”
“MC. Like in Sons of Anarchy?”
He snorted. “Not exactly. Oh, our hands aren’t clean, but most of that show was strictly drama meant to entertain people.”
“So, if Bull is your road name, what’s your real name?” I asked.
I could see the hesitation in his eyes, and I wondered if it was taboo to ask him that. I didn’t know anything about the way of life in an MC. I hadn’t even been around bikers up close before, except watching them pass by on the freeway. He was the first I’d ever spoken to.
“Michael. My name is Michael, but outside of this house, I’m Bull and only Bull.”
I nodded. “I understand.”
He softly caressed my cheek. “But you can call me Michael if you want. When we’re here, by ourselves. No one’s used that name in a really long time.”
I felt the bulge in his pants pressing against my ass, and I didn’t think it was possible, but it felt like it was growing even larger. Holy hell! My breath caught in my throat at the unmistakable desire in his eyes. No one had ever looked at me like that. Oh, boys had told me I was pretty and said they wanted to fuck me. But the way Bull — Michael? — looked at me… it was like he wanted to devour me. My nipples pebbled and as his hands shifted, I felt a sudden jolt in my core.
This is wrong, Darian. What the hell is the matter with you? You were almost raped and now some stranger is turning you on? Are you just going to give it up to some random guy?
Despite my inner pep talk, my body didn’t seem to be listening. Desire curled through me, heating the blood in my veins. Even if his arms hadn’t been around me, I wouldn’t have gotten up and walked away. I’d waited so long to feel like this. Was the timing all wrong? Oh yeah. But I couldn’t ignore the way I felt, didn’t want to ignore it.
If you missed the first three books in the Dixie Reapers series, you can check them out here.
Where to Buy
Changeling Press | Amazon | iTunes | Barnes & Noble | Kobo
About the Author
Short. Erotic. Sweet. Harley’s other half would probably say those words describe her, but they also describe her books. When Harley is writing, her motto is the hotter the better. Off the charts sex, commanding men, and the women who can’t deny them. If you want men who talk dirty, are sexy as hell, and take what they want, then you’ve come to the right place.
Harley Wylde is the “wilder” side of award-winning author Jessica Coulter Smith. Visit Jessica’s website at jessicacoultersmith.com or Harley’s website at harleywylde.com. Want to be notified of new releases or special discounts? Sign up for her newsletter!
For fans of Gay Romance, Harley/Jessica also writes as Dulce Dennison.
Marvelous Monday Reads: Return to Me
Welcome to another edition of Marvelous Monday Reads, angels! Today I’m featuring L.M. Spangler and her marvelous new Romance On the Go™ Return to Me. Take it away, L.M.!
Her secret tore them apart.
Naida Bouche foolishly thought she could live as if she was only human. Her true nature hung over her like a thunderhead, driving a wedge between her and her husband.
Cooper Martin had no idea why his ex-wife divorced him. He’d treated her like a goddess. And they had no problems in the intimacy department.
Fate brings them together again. Old emotions flare to life. Can Naida see beyond her self-perceived faults and allow the flames to reignite the love she and Coop feel for one another?
Story Excerpt
Water cascaded off her nude body. Small rivulets ran over her breasts and down her slightly rounded stomach, disappearing into the surface of the lake.
She was one with the water.
She could, literally, become one with it.
Moonlight reflected off the mirror-smooth surface, adding a soft glow to the night.
Crickets serenaded her with their chirping song. The cicadas added their buzzing to the symphony. There were a lot of cicadas, hence the name of the lake. A wolf howled in the distance. Nature cocooned her.
She grinned and dove under. Liquid embraced her, still heated by the sun’s rays from earlier in the day. Her body became insubstantial, fragmenting into molecules of H2O. Disorientation left her bewildered, but the feeling came and went. Weightless warmth enveloped her, and the ebb and flow of the tide lulled her into blissful relaxation.
The moon slid across the sky. Hours had passed. Her body became corporeal with a single thought. After regaining her human form, she cut through the water with powerful strokes and rose to the surface in a rush of bubbles.
The night air chilled her damp skin, raising goose pimples along her flesh. She pushed the long fall of hair from her face and glanced into the deep, lush woods that ringed the lake. Soon the leaves would change to shades of gold, orange, red, and brown. In would come the autumnal chill. Her time in the waters would decrease, and then winter would set in and freeze her out.
When that happened, she’d resort to the swimming pool located on the basement level of her large home. Even with the greenery she had sprinkled about, it never fully replaced the exhilaration of the lake, the feel of fresh air against her skin, and the scent of the wilderness.
She repeated the cycle, year after year. The monotony had long since worn short on her nerves.
She had someone in her life, someone to break the monotony.
More accurately, she would only have him until the end of the day.
Tonight would be the last night they would be together. She’d tell him that they were over and done with. The sad part of the whole shitty deal was she couldn’t really give him a reason why.
How could he understand? Hell, she’d have trouble believing the truth, if it wasn’t her life.
The root of their problems were otherworldly, as her father was human and her mother was a water nymph.
The nymph side of her heritage presented two problems. First, she needed daily contact with water. The more the better. Like her pool in the basement. Second, she also needed sex … a lot. Preferably once or twice a day. After all, the term “nymphomaniac” had been born of a nymph’s sex drive.
They had a lot of sex, but there were times when their hectic lives interfered with his libido. He was human and his sex drive was human.
She couldn’t guess how he’d react if she said, “I’m a nympho which means we have to have sex all the time. Day and night. Over and over and over.”
He wouldn’t understand it and she’d allowed it to build a wall between them.
No, he had never known the truth of her desires.
She had pushed him away, afraid of exposing her real self.
And that fear, that uncertainty, would leave her alone … and needy.
Where to Buy
About the Author
LM Spangler lives in South Central Pennsylvania with her husband, daughter, three dogs, a cat, a rabbit, and some fish. Her son serves his country in the US Navy.
She is a fan of college football and any kind of baseball and likes to watch the Discovery, Velocity, HGTV, DIY, Science, and any channel showing a college football game. She also watches old game shows like $25,000 Pyramid and Match Game.
Nicola Cameron Writes 