Monday, June 18, 2018

NetGalley * Goodreads * Pre-Order

Are you on Goodreads or able to request from NetGalley? If you are and would like to request a copy of WHAT HAPPENS IN VEGAS, it is available right now. I'm not sure for how much longer, but I'm letting reviewers know as I would love some reviews!

You can download HERE

I'm also on Goodreads if you'd like to follow me there - Shana At Goodreads.

Book 2 in the series is finished and I'm working on book 3. The next two locations for the books are San Fransisco/Napa and Nashville. Such fun places for a girls weekend away, don't you think?

WHAT HAPPENS IN VEGAS is now available for preorders - UK/Europe and Australia, at the below links. It will also be available through Entangled and pre-orders will be coming soon! So keep an eye on my FB page.

Amazon UK: https://amzn.to/2L2Gv6G
Amazon AU: https://amzn.to/2L2Gv6G
iBooks: https://apple.co/2rMCNp0
Kobo: http://bit.ly/2L4cp2M
North America coming soon!
In the first warm, funny and romantic novel in the Girls Weekend Away series, four best friends embark on the ultimate girls' getaway filled with hijinks and a sprinkling of romance. For any fan of Bridesmaids and Sex and the City and readers of Jo Watson, Lauren Layne, Joanna Bolouri and Cate Woods.
When the cop...
Tough-as-nails detective Bonni Connolly is on a girls' getaway in Vegas with her friends, when Lady Luck shines on her. Seizing the chance to treat them all, Bonni splurges on a little luxury including a VIP booth in an exclusive club. That's when she sees him.
Meets the gambler...
Professional poker player Quinn Bryant is in town for one of the largest tournaments of the year. Fortune smiles on him when he spots Bonni across the dance floor. But what starts as a holiday fling soon turns into something more, as Bonni learns to see the man behind the poker face.
The stakes have never been higher.
Even though Bonni's trip has an end date and there is another tournament calling Quinn's name, their strong connection surprises them both. And by the end of the weekend they start to wonder if what happens in Vegas doesn't have to stay there...
Look for the next escapist Girls Weekend Away novel, coming soon!

Did you know I'm also on:
I hope you come on over and follow me!

Sunday, June 17, 2018

BLAZE, my new #PNR, was named a Top Pick!

Happy June!

I was excited to share my new release with you--but now have more exciting news--BLAZE, my new gargoyle shifter rockstar romance, was just named a Top Pick by Night Owl Reviews!

A computer geek turned rock star

Mike is good at playing with two things--numbers and his guitar. People, not so much. So when he stumbles upon two women having fun in the shadows at an underground club, and a bouncer urges him to get one to safety, he's not sure how to respond. But, when he discovers she's been bitten and her neck is bleeding, something wakes inside of him. He's compelled to protect her.

One night with a crush she'd never forget

When Allana runs into Mike, the humiliation burns. It might have only been a fling last summer, but she didn't expect him not to recognize her. Well, she had enough going on in with her yoga studio to deal with guy drama. But, he insists she leaves Vamps with him.

She wants to refuse, but he warns she's in danger...

Blaze is a novel in the Underground Encounters series, set in a club that attracts supernatural creatures. Each book features a different couple--and perhaps different species!--and can be read on its own.

Step into Vamps, a thrilling new world of steamy paranormal romance featuring sexy shifters, thirsty vampires, wicked witches, and gorgeous gargoyles.

Learn more!

Saturday, June 16, 2018

Confession: I'm an older woman and my superpower is invisibility!

Yes, I've discovered that with age, comes the superpower of being invisible. I still remember walking down streets and getting cat calls from strange men. I was scared when I was a young teenager, then angry, when I got older. "No, I'm not your baby! And I don't have to look at you or even acknowledge you exist, just because you think I'm cute. Piss off!" If that didn't shut them up, I'd follow up by swearing like a Marine. When I got married, I was irritated that the public abuse continued. Imagine my surprise that it stopped whenever I was pregnant. I thought that was odd, because being pregnant was proof that I wasn't a virgin anymore, and should be an invitation to more male abuse regarding my sexuality. But it silenced them. Very interesting. But once the babies were born, I could be walking with all four of them, pushing  a stroller, and still get beeped at, or be yelled at by random men I didn't know. Probably part of why my boys, who are now men, aren't like that, is because they remember how irritated I used to get when it happened.

Now flash forward to today. I have stopped coloring my hair, so it's silver. Nothing like a dye job to keep your age a secret from anyone not close enough to see facial wrinkles; grey or silver hair signals your age from any distance. And somehow I've acquired the superpower of being invisible. I hear loud cars racing up behind me, and I no longer have to fear being accosted with rude remarks about what the male(s) in the car would like to do to me, or have me do to them. No longer do men try to meet my eye, using that as a conversation starter, as if just by looking at them, I'm inviting them to make crude suggestions about how our body parts might fit well together. Ew!

On the one hand, it's a refreshing superpower, because it frees me to not have to worry about unwanted attention anymore. On the other hand, it amuses me greatly, because I still dress the same. I despise wearing bras, so even though I'm a generous D cup, for the summer I have lots of tops that either have bralets sewn into them, or have multiple layers of elastic sewn into them, to provide some measure of support. So I often don't wear bras in hot weather. And I have a dozen tattoos, which used to garner me extra attention just because it was presumed that I was a rebel (read: uninhibited) because of them. But best of all, I still feel the same, on the inside. My head is still filled with erotic stories and situations. Whenever I write books, I'm incapable of closing the door on the sex scenes, because those are some of my favorite scenes to write (and reread!)

So even though I continue to have erotic romance stories in my head, and to imagine sex with any attractive man I see in any public place, I'm invisible to them. No worries that they'll ever suspect what I'm thinking about, when I glance at their hands...heh, heh. They see me as a neuter; I'm still female, but not an attractive, sexual female anymore. Little do they know! As I said, superpower!

I've written many romances with older characters. In my Reyes Family Romances, you still get to see the romantic lust between the aging parents of the heroes and heroines whose romances are the focus of each book. And in my third Minnesota Romance, Her Last Resort, the heroine and hero are both retired spies, so they are both in their fifties.

What's that old saying? Just because there's snow on the roof, it doesn't mean there isn't any fire in the fireplace? Yeah, baby!

Find out more about my books at: http://www.fionamcgier.com

Friday, June 15, 2018

Love On the Beach

On June 19, the perfect summer beach read releases.  The Best Worst Honeymoon Ever will take you from despair to Bonaire.  I had a ball writing this story!  It was fun and it allowed me to relive some of Domini  and my Caribbean fun.  I hope you enjoy!!!

How can heartbreak turn into happily ever after?
Tommy Gordon is all set for happily ever after—until heartbreak strikes when his husband-to-be leaves him at the altar. In a bid for distraction, his best friend, Grayson Phillips, suggests he takes advantage of the luxury honeymoon anyway! But the last thing Tommy wants is to go alone, so he invites Grayson and his son, Petey, along.
Beautiful Bonaire lends itself to romance, and along with close quarters, relaxing on the water, and a matchmaking kid, Tommy and Grayson soon find themselves closer than ever… and considering more, much to Grayson’s delight. But before they can plan the best best honeymoon ever, dark clouds descend in the form of Tommy’s ex and a sting from paradise that could ruin everything.

Grab an advance copy:   https://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/books/the-best-worst-honeymoon-ever-by-andrew-grey-9640-b

Thursday, June 14, 2018

Western Serial Killer Series Volume 1 & 2

Volume One: Better Off Without Her

Panhandle of Texas
Palo Duro Canyon

He took the fingers out of his pocket and twirled them against his own. Some were lean and tapered others were short and stubby. Problem was…they didn't feel real anymore. They were no longer warm, and agile. He wanted them to feel real, to be warm. They were cold, lifeless, and quickly turning colors. Blood oozed from one, the last victim. He culled the rotten ones from the new, throwing them in the dirt as he rode, leaving an eerie trail of souvenirs. His shoulders hunched as he protected his treasure from prying eyes.
He couldn't identify his own feelings for the children he had protected—perhaps the only good he'd done in the world. The word "proud" came to mind, but he wasn't sure what it meant. Many words eluded him. He'd heard the words spoken by his father and Uncle and wondered at their meaning. His eyes narrowed as he glanced about him, thrusting the good fingers back into his pocket. He patted his pocket and nodded. It was enough.
He rode most of the night, weary and sleepy, but more than that, hungry. He'd known hunger before too. His stomach twisted. He relished familiar feelings–they fed his soul. Pain was normal. As long as there was pain, he knew he was alive, and he knew it as surely as blood drips from a knife.
This cold here wasn't much different from the cold he'd suffered in the Kansas prison, only a month ago. The wind howled the same tune, only it wasn't coming in through a crack in the floor, where someone had tried to escape only a few days earlier. He remembered killing the guard, a non-essential man, and shooting another one in the leg. He'd taken the gun from the first guard as he strangled him against the prison bars. He remembered how the second guard had followed him, relentlessly.
Why would he follow, knowing it meant certain death for him.
None of that mattered now that he was free…
The word froze on his tongue. Free—what did that mean exactly? He wasn't sure. It was times like these, when he tried to think, that he wished sorely he had been able to go to school. It hurt to think, and it never made sense to him.
He knew nothing of the world.
He wished fervently someone could explain all the words to him he'd heard over the years. He heard people talk in towns and understood the meanings very little. It was almost as though he were not of this world. He certainly didn't fit in anywhere he'd been. It seemed important to fit somewhere.
The sound of his horse clopping against the dry floor of the desert made a lonely echo through the desolate canyons as he struggled against the north winds of winter. 
How could a place like this be so hot in the summer and so cold in the winter.
Hunger, loneliness, pain, he knew and understood. And another kind of need…revenge. He heard his father and Uncle speak of it many times, asking him if he wanted revenge? Revenge was what he sought, he thought. To kill his Uncle was his only mssion.
The silence broke when a war hoop sounded from the ridge and a scream for help came out of nowhere. He looked around and spotted a boy running as though the devil himself were after him. It only took seconds to realize a lone Comanche chased the kid. He let out his own war whoop and aimed his horse straight at the attacking Indian. His own mortality was unimportant. He must save the child. The one thing Victor was sure of, was that children mattered.
The boy must have seen him as he ran toward him. He drew his knife, put it in his mouth, and then he held his arm out for the kid and as he rode by the boy mounted behind him. Victor yelped like the wild Indian, as soon as the boy let loose of his arm, he threw the knife, hitting the Indian square in the chest. The Indian slumped against his horse and slowly slid to the ground, blood dripping from his wound.
"You got him senor," the boy hollered as he jumped down and ran to the Indian, grabbing the knife and pulling it out, he wiped it on the dead Indian's clothes, and then handed it to Victor with a smile. "Thank you, Señor, you saved my life."
"What you doin' out here, by yourself kid?" Victor asked taking the knife and putting it in his scabbard. 
"I live on a ranch not far from here, with my mother and father. I was out looking for my mule— she wandered away. Will you take me to them?" The boy eyed him, his mouth falling open.
"I reckon…What are you starin' at kid?"
 "I've never seen anyone like you before."
 "Like me? What's so different about me…?"
 "It's your face…so scarred. You were beaten?" the boy asked.
Victor merely shrugged.
"And…your voice…it is like a girl, it is so high. Who did this to you?" The boy seemed almost angry, and yet concerned.
Victor nodded not surprised at the boy's observation, "Ain't no nevermind boy, it was done many years ago. Now, get his horse, and let's go."
"Am I stealing the horse?" the boy asked.
"Nope…just takin' the leavin's of the dead, boy."
The boy frowned but obeyed. He mounted the Indian's pony and hung on as Victor rode in the direction the boy pointed.
As they rode into the ranch yard, a Mexican woman came out and started talking to the boy in Spanish. Then he looked at Victor.
"You are most welcome to stay with us, as you saved me from certain death. My mother insists."
"Thanks, I'd appreciate a meal and some sleep then be on my way."
The boy nodded, "And anything else you wish for is yours, my mother says."
"Your mother is glad you are home?" Victor's raised a brow in confusion.
He glanced at the woman who was rushing around to prepare a meal for them. An unusual woman.
"That's good, yes, that is very good." He almost smiled. "What's your name boy?"
"Antonio Del Lavaga Enriques."
"That's a big name for a little fella."
"Yes sir."
A new sensation swamped Victor. He didn't know what he felt, but he knew it was some sort reaction to this boy. He watched the boy lead him through the adobe house and into the kitchen where his mother fixed a fine meal. Victor watched the woman saying nothing. He ate in silence and took a long nap afterward. When he woke he said his goodbyes and thank-yous and mounted. He glanced at Antonio for a moment and almost smiled again. Some emotion he couldn't express filled him. However, the pain that a smile would inflict kept it from forming. It was the closest he had come since he was younger than the Antonio. He found it hard to smile and the feeling was strange to him, but his face felt the pain, and his frown eased into place once more. A small shadow of warmth entered his heart as he nodded to the family that was so grateful—no yelling and screaming and manner of meanness here. Victor wished he belonged here, but knew he had no place. Antonio was very lucky, he wished to tell him someday.
He found a moment of peace and as he laid his head down that night, he slept well. It was the last time he would do so.
Victor was twenty-one.

Volume Two: The Ghost of Victor Frank

1885 Texas
Del Rio

Chapter One

     "Okay Harry," Benny grimaced when the contents spilled on his hand. Grinding his teeth until it hurt, Benny shot a scowl toward the doorway where Harry had disappeared. Dirty spittoons, dirty lanterns. That's all he did was clean. What did they think he was, a woman?
     The sun beat down on him like an iron skillet, sizzling the earth, only one bird sang his lovely tune, a mocking bird, Benny noticed silently. The streets of Del Rio, Texas were quiet. Unusually so for this time of day.
     Benny Gates was unaware of the beautiful day as he sat on the boardwalk right outside the Silver Spur Saloon. He was brooding again, his shoulders slumped making him appear shorter than he really was. With a mop of dirty blonde hair, and clear blue eyes, he might have been handsome if he carried himself better. But he continued to carry the nastiness of the world on his shoulders.
     They'd called him a dim-wit this morning, mocking him. Yesterday Johnny Hatfield and Clay Roberts had teased him as he tried to keep the bar and spittoons clean for Harry the bartender. Johnny and Clay were Privates for the army, and they often frequented the bar. And every time they came to town they gave Benny a hard time. For one thing Benny's clothes were all tattered and torn, and his shoes were worn out and flapped when he walked. He couldn't hide the fact, they made such a noise as he walked.
     "One of these days though…. I'll make them all sit up and take notice of Benny Gates." Benny mumbled out of the side of his mouth.
     Benny went inside. Not that he wanted to, but he had work to do. A half-drunk Indian played a wicked piano filling Benny with disgust, he'd heard every tune. Music didn't interest him, neither did drinking. He'd had a lifetime of both. The saloon had been his home all his life, a disgusting home, Benny determined. He hated it. He hated everything now. He hated Johnny and Clay, he hated the army, but most of all…he hated his mother.
     He hated saloons too. He hated the people inside them. Saloons were nasty, stinky, and filled with the rotten apples of Del Rio. He wished they were dead. He wished half the town were dead. So many had called him ugly names and poked fun at him for years on end. He'd been known as the bastard child of the town. Every day was the same, it never got better like some told him it would.
He breathed deep and the stench of rot-gut whiskey and long ago chewed tobacco permeated the air.
     He put his hand on the bar he'd cleaned only an hour ago and already, slopped whiskey, dirty hands, dust from cowhand's clothes, and spilled tobacco formed a paste on top of it.
     Two saloon girls got up and moved around a poker table. Their hands were everywhere, touching, feeling, making themselves known to the men. Benny grimaced. This was his private hell. He was born to it, and it looked as though he'd die here, unless he done something about it.
     The mirror that hung behind the bar was smeared with dust and smoke until no one could truly see much out of it.
     "I'll show them. I'll fix them good." Benny mumbled.
     He sat contemplating how he would even all the scores.
     For years, he'd taken ridicule, snide remarks, people laughing at him. And why?
     His mother, that was why. His mother had been a saloon girl all her life, and as of late she hobbled about the bar with her thick mask of make-up and drooping white shoulders. The times she'd went up those stairs with ugly, dirty cowboys were too numerous to count. Benny didn't want to think about that. He didn't want to think about her. They made fun of her too. No one knew who Benny's father was, even his mother. Perhaps that was the biggest problem, he was the bastard of some unknown cowboy drifter, and the laughing stock of the town. He couldn't change that here in Del Rio, but someday he was going to leave and never come back. He'd made himself that promise.
     With no education, he'd still managed to learn to count with the cards of a gambler. Decent young girls didn't look at him, but they giggled at him behind his back. He didn't understand what was so different about him?
Disgust and anger roiled inside his body, festering like a sore. But this sore never healed. It wouldn't heal until he did something about it, and he had plans to do just that. He'd thought it up some time ago, but soon they would all be sorry how they treated him. Very soon.
     Two strangers rode up and hobbled their horses in front of the saloon. Benny stared at them as they came through the swinging doors. They didn't look much different than the cowboys who hung out in the saloon, except they were cleaner, and they were strangers. When Benny was younger, he might have given these two the benefit of the doubt, but not anymore. Anyone who sought out a saloon was the same to Benny.
     The one thing Benny did was observe people, filing away the information on each new person he met, to refer to at another time, and maybe another place.
He studied these two. One was a Mexican and the other was white. They both wore guns though and looked as though they knew how to use them. Benny squirmed a little. He had them pegged as gunfighters, just the way they walked and carried themselves told him they could handle their firearms.
     He eyed them for a long minute, but they paid little attention to him.
He listened as they were greeted by an old friend, Chocko.
     "Antonio, I have not seen you for years. Where have you been, my friend?" Chocko asked his friend. Chocko was a tall Mexican, with a big sombrero and a perfectly manicured mustache. He had slicked back black hair and eyes that could pierce any target. But his smile was genuine and aimed at this Antonio and his companion with interest.
     "Lots of places my friend. Let me introduce you to John T. he used to be a Texas Ranger."
     "Used to?" Chocko questioned quickly.
     "Yeah, he's just a Sheriff now, and I'm worse, I'm his deputy." Antonio smiled.
Chocko snickered. "I didn't know you could quit the Rangers?"
     "Sort of retired…" John T. smiled.
     "Say, aren't you two the ones that got that crazy fella, Victor Frank?" Chocko asked buying a round of beers for his friends.
     Antonio bowed his head, and John T. looked away, "Yeah, we're the ones." Antonio's voice lowered.
     It wasn't so much what he said as how he said it that had Chocko speechless for a moment. Benny paid close attention. The tension in the room mounted for a moment. He'd figured them wrong, they were lawmen. He hadn't often made that mistake. But their conversation was one of interest.
     "Everybody is talkin' about that.  He was one mean hombre. Even the Rangers wouldn’t mess with him, I'm told. Said you got him in an Indian camp and nearly wiped out the whole bunch…"
     "Yes, my friend, but we don't talk about it much…" Antonio said lowly. "It is not a good thing to remember."
     Chocko's smile disappeared. "Why not. He was one bad hombre, eh? I would think you would brag of such of feat. He was a killer of women, no doubt he deserved to die…"
     John T. turned his drink up and swallowed it down, slamming the glass on the bar. Antonio leaned on the bar and looked out the door.
     Chocko saw their gazes disappear out the swinging doors.
     "I do not understand, he was a bad hombre, wasn't he? Set me straight, please." Chocko twisted his head and stared at the two of them.
     John T. nodded, "Yeah, he was."
     "Then why so sad…?" Chocko hit Antonio on the back and laughed.
     Antonio gripped his beer tightly. "It was like killing a mad dog, Chocko. There is no honor in killing a mad dog, you are simply putting him out of his misery." Antonio explained. "That's what we did, put him out of his misery."
"Si…. I understand that." Chocko nodded to the bartender for a refill. "So, what are you doin' here?" Chocko quickly changed the subject when he saw they were both withdrawn from this conversation.
     John T. stood up straight now, "We're here to pick up a prisoner."
     "Sorrels?" Chocko cocked his head at him.
     "That's the one." Antonio nodded.
     "He has a big mouth, and a fast gun, but he is trash." Chocko said with disgust. "He says he accidentally killed the woman who ran out of the bank, while he was robbing it."
     "Was it an accident?" Antonio questioned.
     "There were no eye witnesses. She was the only one in the bank accept the teller at the time. No one knows, but…he shot her in the back…"
Antonio pushed his hat back from his head. "Didn't the teller see it?"
     "Nope, they killed him too."
     "Why do we always end up with the no-accounts?" Antonio sighed.
     John T. snickered. "Just lucky I guess…"
     "Too bad they can't hang him here?" Antonio said.
     "And, why can't we?" Chocko laughed.
     "He's wanted on a previous charge over in Austin, seems he killed a politician up there during another robbery." John T. informed him.
     "So, you are from Austin?"
     Antonio shook his head, "No Chocko, but since we are so famous for killing Victor Frank, they sent us to pick up this Sorrels. It seems they consider him a very dangerous hombre."
     "See, you are heroes. You will ruin their plans then…" Chocko pointed to a table of men who seemed bent on getting drunk.
     "Who are they?" Antonio looked toward the table with interest.
     "Friends and family of the lady he killed. They will not be so happy about you are taking him."
     John T. and Antonio glanced at each other. "That's too bad." John T. shot the men at the table a quick glance.
     Antonio glanced around the bar. "So, what do you do now, Chocko?"
     "I work for Don Pedro, on his ranch. I am foreman there."
     "Foreman, well, you are moving up in the world."
     Chocko smiled a brilliant smile, "Si…"
     "What are you doin' in town then?"
     "Don Pedro is making arrangements with the buyers, we will soon move the herd north to the railroad." Chocko said.
     "I guess he's got a pretty big spread now." Antonio thought about it.
     "Si, very big. Thanks to God we do not have to take them to Kansas any longer." Chocko said.
     "Yeah, I guess the days of the big cattle drives are over now." John T. added.
     "Yeah," Chocko nodded. "You know, I kind of miss it. Sleeping out under the stars, listening to the cattle low at night. It was peaceful."
     "Yeah but how about the storms, the rain, the up all night with a stampede? Bet you don't miss that do ya?" John T. smiled.
     "No Señor, I do not miss that…" Chocko laughed.
     Benny came strolling around them, he shot Chocko a quick glance then went to tie his apron on and sweep the floor. He kept his head down and seemed bent on not looking at anyone.
     All the time they talked, he swept, but John T. noticed how Benny kept getting closer and seemed to be listening to every word.
     When John T. caught Benny staring, Benny moved away quickly.
     "Who's that?" John T. asked.
     Chocko shot Benny a quick glance, "Aw…that is Benny, he's a little short on brains, but he's harmless. He keeps this place clean. He's sort of belligerent, as they say."
     John T. glanced again at the young man.
     "He doesn't look like he likes you Chocko." Antonio observed.
     Benny edged up to them. "What does belligerent mean?"
     Chocko laughed and shook his head. "Never mind Benny."
     "No…you called me belligerent…what does that mean?"
     "Means you got a bad attitude." Chocko narrowed his focus on the young man. "Now go back to your work, Benny. This doesn't concern you."
     "I don't like bein' called names. Every day I take it, from the men from Camp Hudson, and Ft. Clark. Well, I'm tired of taking it. Take it back, Chocko." Benny yelled.
     "Settle down pardner, he meant no harm." Antonio got between them.
     Benny bristled. "Stay out of this mister…"
     "You're taking offense awfully easy kid." John T. studied him carefully.
     "I'm gonna get a gun and shoot you Chocko. I'm gonna shoot you dead. You hear me?" Benny hollered and ran out the door.
     Chocko turned back to the bar, swallowed another whiskey and eyeballed his friends. "That is one strange kid. He's never happy. Never knows a joke when he hears one.  He's gonna get himself killed one of these days. He's got so much hate stored up, Lord help us if it ever comes out."
     "Does he always threaten to shoot people?" John T. asked, still watching the swinging door.
     "No, but he's all talk." Chocko laughed. "Benny doesn't like anyone."
     "I can believe that?" John T. said, his eyes darting around the room. "It's kind of sad from someone so young."
     Chocko shrugged seeming uncomfortable talking about the kid. "Perhaps we should talk of him another time…"
     John T. nodded, "Well, we've had our drink, we better get on over to the jail. We got a long ride ahead of us."
     Antonio paid for the last drink and nodded. "Good seein' you again, Chocko, take care."
     "Adios my friends." Chocko tipped his hat to them.
     But just as they would have walked outside, Benny came charging in with a six-shooter in his hand and aimed it at Chocko.
     John T. reacted as he always did.
     "I'm gonna kill you dead, Chocko…" Benny raised his gun.
     John T. shot the gun out his hand and walked toward the kid who was    stumbling to the floor and blabbering about his bleeding hand.
     "You shot me! You shot me!" Benny cried in stunned confusion.
     "Better be glad he didn't kill you." Antonio glanced down at the flustered kid.
     "He shot my gun hand…." Benny shouted. "Aren't you gonna do something about it?"
     "Nope!" Chocko bent over him.
     John T. stared down at the kid and shook his head. "I shot your gun hand on purpose kid. It will be awhile before that heals up, and you probably won't be handling a gun with it again. Maybe that will keep you out of trouble. At least I hope it will."
     "I'll come after you! I swear it! I'll kill you, mister."
John T. turned to look over his shoulder as he headed out the door. "You can try, kid, but I wouldn't advice it."
     Chocko nodded to his friends.
     As John T. and Antonio walked out of the saloon, John T. glanced back at Chocko and waved. But John T. got another glance at Benny too and something unnerved him about the kid. Just like it had Chocko.
     "Something wrong my friend?" Antonio asked as they strode toward the jail.
     "That Benny…does he remind you of anyone?"
     Antonio glanced back over his shoulder and saw Benny staring out the swinging doors at them. "He's just a kid."
     "A kid with a real chip on his shoulder. You wouldn't think a kid would be like that, would you? I'm thinking that Benny and Victor Frank might have had a few things in common…"
     Antonio looked again, but Benny had disappeared.
     "He probably went to see a doctor," John T. surmised quickly.
     Antonio studied his friend. "There will never be another Victor Frank!"
     The way he said that had John T. staring at him.
     "Don't be so sure, Antonio. The kid hasn't been physically abused, but he sure is nursing a grudge or two. I wouldn't be surprised to find him on our trail. Like Chocko said, he's a little short of brains."
     "With a bad gun hand?" Antonio frowned.
     "He's got a different kind of problem Antonio, he's been emotionally battered, just as bad as someone whipping you all the time. After a while it festers like a sore and he's picking at the sore right now. We haven't seen the last of that kid…mark my words."
     Antonio made the sign of the cross, "Madre mia, not another…."
     John T. shrugged. "I could be wrong, but I got a gut feeling…"

Tuesday, June 12, 2018

Handcuffs and Trouble - hot times in South Florida - WICKED DESIGN - erotic romance #TinaDonahueBooks #WickedBrandSeries #EroticRomance

Wicked Design, book four in my Wicked Brand series, will release June 16.

This is Clover and Van Gogh's story and - wow - do they have a hot tale to tell.

Series Blurb:

South Florida just got a helluva lot steamier… During the day, the staff at Wicked Brand makes ink dreams a reality for their appreciative clients. After hours, this naughty crew engages in sensual delights as wild as the designs they’re selling. Their motto? Nothing forbidden. Nothing held back.

Wicked Design Blurb:

Handcuffs and trouble…

Clover wants Van Gogh. Bad. He's the hottest ink artist at Wicked Brand and makes her blood race. Trouble is, he hasn't noticed her. She's determined to change that. Starting with letting him get under her skin—literally. But then the tattoo consultation goes a little deeper than expected.
In a night of wicked hot fun, she brings out his sexy beast. Talk about a major transformation. Soon they're sneaking into the shop after hours to play with his chair and breaking in his new handcuffs. But when their differences start to arise, she's not sure where all this hot sex will lead...


He had an artist’s hands, his touch precise, firm, assured, miraculous. With more skill than she’d ever owned, he teased her nub, alternating between feathery whisks and unyielding strokes.
Her poor pussy didn’t know what to make of it, her climax rushing close then scurrying away.
She twisted the bedspread. It was either that or bitch at him for not delivering immediate relief, playing with her when she wanted to come. Except she didn’t. She enjoyed how he revved her like an engine then let her idle, encouraging her mounting passion. Already he knew her better than she did herself. She braced for the ride.
He brushed her clit and traced her puffy folds.
Perspiration ran down her throat. Her fists and jaw ached from clenching them so tightly. She hauled in a much-needed breath.
A car horn blared.
She flinched, taut with expectation.
“Still okay?”
“Yeah, don’t stop.” She would have added “ever” but didn’t want to spook him with her overwhelming desire for them to be together. A couple everyone would envy and no one could come between.
He rubbed her where it mattered most, quick, hard, tirelessly.
Her orgasm steamrolled over Clover and hit with hurricane force. She trembled and thrashed, her clit too sensitive to endure his relentless stimulation.
He doubled down, going at her like tomorrow might not come.
She gasped but pressed into him, wanting more even when she didn’t, totally messed up.
The room spun faster than a carnival ride. Giddy, she yielded to his intimate strokes, her legs bowed outward, defenseless against him.

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Monday, June 11, 2018

The Miss Havana Paranormal Comedy Series

Miss Havana waited patiently as the crowd gathered, uncertain of where she was or why no one wore clothes. Despite the men leering at her, she didn’t feel self-conscious—her beautiful face and flawless body had drawn ogles from rich and powerful men her entire life. They clustered around facing her--all sweating, all wanting. Despite the oppressive heat, she felt smug. She had controlled these men in the past and could control them now.

After what seemed an eternity, the odd-looking form upon the throne before them cleared his throat with sufficient force to garner everyone’s attention. “Now that you’re all are here, let’s get down to business.”

Miss Havana boldly stepped before the throne and cleared her throat in mocking tone. She did not cower. She did not stoop. She began by insulting her host, and then ridiculed the judgements she had witnessed while her group waited to be judged.  The devil was intrigued by her insolence and invited her to judge the others in her group—all were, after all, responsible for her death and disfigurement when she lived. Despite common assumption, Miss Havana found revenge is best served hot.

The devil enjoyed the ironic depravity of her eternal sentencing so much he humiliated her multiple times, much to the delight of the gallery of creatures and demons above, all of whom showed appreciation by raining down feces, urine, and slime of all manner. Before the meeting concluded, Miss Havana was invited back to the devil’s lair—he was drawn to her like a fly to poop.

Thus was Miss Havana’s introduction to hell and the beginning or four outrageous paranormal comedy novels covering her exploits through many lives and deaths. Tag lines and blurbs for each of the four novels are provided below.

1. The Substitute -- A hilarious romp through the final days of Miss Havana’s life, her trials in purgatory, and her tormented afterlife with Lucifer. Witty and spicy, it leaves readers in tears of laughter. 

Blurb:  Miss Havana’s public persona was far from the truth. In her capacity as substitute teacher, the small community where she lived knew her as the breathtakingly beautiful young woman who demanded every student learn. However, in her private life, she raced through the lives of powerful men, leaving a wake of destruction and a deep desire for revenge. Little did she realize her conflicted life would end in a chaotic death at an early age, and to eternal conflict with the devil. Their child is evil personified, and the backstabbing and deceit between the King and Queen of Darkness drips with hilarity as Lucifer struggles to become the antichrist and Miss Havana works to subvert him. A surprise encounter with God at the end leaves the reader stunned and gasping for more.

2. Oh, Heavens, Miss Havana! Advice columnist by day and assassin by night, Miss Havana’s spirit considers herself the Angel of Death. She administers painful and fatal judgment until being brought to task by God.

Blurb: Having performed a single selfless act, Miss Havana finds herself on probation in heaven. After many missteps, she discovers she still retains the powers she had as The Queen of Darkness and realizes she’s on probation to keep her from joining forces with her daughter, The Princess of Darkness. The Brazilian, a large black man with a dreadlocks beard who waxes regularly, is her “guide,” but she ignores his advice until he’s taken off her case. Guideless and in a foreign environment, she consorts with evil spirits from her former realm, especially Waldo, a shadow creature so named because he’s so hard to find. She acquires a copy of “The Angels Guide to Earth,” comes to believe she is the Angel of Death, and returns to the surface as an advice columnist by day and assassin by night. She wreaks havoc before God intervenes for a final showdown, which might not be as final as most surface dwellers would hope.

3. The Training Bra Miss Havana is reincarnated into the body of an 11-year-old girl. Her daughter, Lilith, and hubby, Lucifer, attempt to steer the little girl onto hell’s wide and wicked path while plotting against and usurping each other.

Blurb: An outrageous comedy that will leave the reader with aching sides. Starting as an innocent young girl, Miss Havana slowly creeps toward the evil side of life before being murdered at age eighteen. In death, she reconnects with her daughter, Lilith, the supreme ruler of hell. She is tested severely and then given an assignment that will lead to the enslavement of mankind. Driven by ambition, Miss Havana plots the overthrow of Lilith while expanding her knowledge of her former kingdom, especially relative to her interactions with three of the four horsemen of the apocalypse. She conspires with her ex-mate, Lucifer, to overthrow Lilith while appearing to following orders. Miss Havana regains her throne, only to be double-crossed by the conniving Lucifer, who introduces her to spiritual death the hard way. Instead of unending death; however, God intervenes for most unusual reasons.

 4. The Trophy Wife Miss Havana struggles to become the person God wants her to be while Lucifer subjects her to pain and misery at every turn.

Blurb: Lucifer’s rage simmers until he kills Miss Havana out of revenge, but God intervenes to save her. God places her spirit in a dying six-year-old child, who becomes a flawed but beautiful high school teacher. In attempt to destroy his ex-mate, Lucifer sends the Princess of Darkness, Lilith, to haunt Lily, one of Miss Havana’s students. Through the body of Lily, Lilith rains comical torment on Miss Havana. Natural enemies, Lilith and Miss Havana ratchet up the level of destructiveness as they discover more of their underworld power … until murder becomes the preferred option. Despite dips into horror and tragedy, the novel is a hilarious romp through heaven and hell. God continues to help Miss Havana, frustrating Lucifer and Lilith enough to char the pages. Miss Havana’s journey toward happiness is fraught with peril, but she finds inner faith and strength along the way.

Will there be a fifth Miss Havana novel? For that, you must wait and see.

Thanks for reading,

James L. Hatch

Sunday, June 10, 2018

At the Close of the Con with @MeganSlayer #RAGT18 #convention #meganslayer #whatilearned

As I look back on this convention, #RAGT18, I have to pause to think about the people who weren't there. I have to give pause for missing them. When I go to the Reader and Author Get Together, my main goal is to see my friends. It's like a family reunion. Some of the faces change, but most don't.

It's comforting.

I have to pause to think about the friends who were there. The laughs, the fun and the good times. Like I said, I go for the friends.

Books have been sold, parties had and prizes won. The money for the raffles went to a pet shelter, so I went a little overboard. I'm a pet person.

I would like to say I've got more to mention but I don't. Why? It's the end and doggoneit, I'm tired.
While I get back up to speed, here's a little bit about my latest release, Embracing His Roar:

Embracing His Roar by Megan Slayer 
Sanctuary, Book 11
Gay Paranormal Erotic Romance
From SuperNova Indie Publishing

A bobcat who doesn’t think he belongs and a lion who believes he is unlovable…can they make a relationship work?

Avan has made his share of mistakes, but those are in the past. Moving forward means forgiving himself and having a life at the Sanctuary. He wants just one shifter—Oscar. The bobcat shifter soothes his soul and seems to see the best in Avan. But will he want to be with Avan, even after everything Avan’s done?

Oscar’s lusted after Avan since he first saw him. He doesn’t care what Avan’s done because he believes everyone deserves a second chance. But Oscar’s got a past, too. He’d never felt like he belongs, even at the Sanctuary. The one place he feels safe is with Avan.

The odds a bobcat and lion should be together are low, but the passion between them sizzles. Can they find common ground and embrace their roar or will their differences destroy the blossoming relationship?

Available at
Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07CZ3Z2MQ/
Barnes and Noble: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/embracing-his-roar-megan-slayer/1128628195?ean=2940162013747
Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/embracing-his-roar
Google Play: https://play.google.com/store/books/details/Megan_Slayer_Embracing_His_Roar?id=CCpaDwAAQBAJ
In Print: https://www.amazon.com/dp/1623441269/

Saturday, June 9, 2018

                                                           "Cameron's Thorn"
                                                   Cirque De Carnaval Book 1

Cameron Jensen and his brother Jordy grew up in a very sheltered life out on the farm with a very unloving father. One night when both Jordy and Cameron are outed to their father by the local priest, they run for their lives, knowing the man’s disgust for homosexual’s.
With nothing but the clothes on their backs and a few dollars in their pockets, the brothers set out to find the mother who deserted them when they were baby’s. The world is a very scary and strange place to them, but not as strange as the things they see when they arrive at the Swan Family Carnival where their mother is. 
When Thorn Swan, nephew to Ivan, finds two cuties sneaking around the carnival he knows he has to stop them, but the realization that Cameron is his mate shocks Thorn, but also makes him happy that his mate is finally here.
But will he be able to convince the skittish man that they were meant for one another and belong together, or will he lose Cameron when he and Jordy run again, after finding out the truth of who they really are? 

The Adonis walked out, slamming the door behind him, and Cam could actually feel his pain. Jordy was pretty good at rambling on, twisting things, and confusing the hell out of you when he got started. Cam had stormed away many times from Jordy’s antics, needing to take a breather before he punched his brother in the face.
“Well, that was fun. Now what?”
Cam shook his head and a small laugh escaped. “You’re one of a kind, Jordy.”
“What does that mean?”
“Nothing. Just...just be you, okay?”
“Oooookay. So, do you think we can sneak out of here before the very large, gorgeous guy comes back? Although, I wouldn’t mind if he did come back, preferably without a shirt this time.”
“Jordy!” Cam growled. Not that he didn’t agree with his brother about the man being gorgeous, or even wanting to see him without a shirt, but something inside him wanted to rip Jordy’s head from his shoulders for even looking at the man. A red haze covered his vision as jealousy filled him. The thought of any man looking at, or god forbid, touching the Adonis made Cam want to scream and grab the man, claiming him for his own.
Cam turned away from his brother and went to the table and bench seats against the wall and sat. He needed to calm down as well as hide the evidence of his sudden erection from his brother. All these new feelings and rage within him were very confusing and were scaring him. Not to mention the reaction his body was having to the Adonis. Shit, he had never gotten this hard, this fast before. What the hell was wrong with him?
Jordy came and joined him and the two sat silently for about fifteen minutes, until the latch on the door rattled. They each turned to see if the gorgeous man had come back, when the door swung open and an older man stepped through. He wasn’t as muscular or as tall as Adonis, but he was pretty good looking for his age. Which Cam guessed was somewhere around fifty. He looked about six-two, maybe two-hundred and thirty pounds, with long black hair to his ass, that had a few grays. His skin was golden tan and his eyes were a deep green. Cam wondered if those eyes were even more mesmerizing when the man smiled. Right now, there was no hint of merriment within those orbs. Cam swallowed hard from the cold look the man was giving him and Jordy.
Adonis stepped in behind the guy and closed the door, then the two stood there staring at them. “So, these are the two you caught sneaking around? Why have you not called the sheriff, Thorn?”
“As I said Papa, they saw Mercy shift, and I believe they are shifters themselves,” Thorn answered as he kept his gaze on Cam. “This is Cam and the other one is Jordy. Boys, this is my uncle, Ivan Swan, but everyone around here calls him Papa. He and his wife own the carnival.”
Thorn? What a great name. Cam thought.
The man called Papa walked closer and sniffed around them, then straightened. “They smell like feline.”
“That’s what I thought, too.”
“So, what do you want around my carnival? What business do you have here? Are you looking for work? Maybe a good time?” Papa asked the last part giving them a pointed look.
Cam was a little confused by what he meant at first, but suddenly understanding came to him and he flinched back as his eyes widened. “What? No! We came here to find someone.”
“And who would that be?”
“Our mother,” Jordy replied.
Both Thorn and Papa’s brows rose high as they stared at them in disbelief. “Your Mama? There is no way your Mama is here in my family.”
“But we saw her on the website and that’s why we came here. Then we saw her in the big tent,” Jordy said.
“Impossible,” Papa said and threw his hand in the air as he turned away.
“Mona. Mona Daly is our mother,” Cam said softly.
Thorn and Papa stared at them, the shock and horror apparent on their faces. Then Papa’s face darkened, and his eyes filled with suspicion. “Who are you?”
“As he said, I’m Cam. Um...Cameron Jensen, and this is my brother, Jordan.”
Papa just stared at them as if he were trying to figure out if they were telling the truth or not, and if they should be trusted. After a minute of silence, he spoke to Thorn, but kept his gaze on them. “Go get Iubirea mea.”
“Yes, Papa,” Thorn replied and left the trailer.
A few minutes later the door opened again, and Thorn entered. Once at the top, he stepped aside and allowed the person behind him to step up. Cam’s gaze landed on his mother’s beautiful face and he couldn’t stop the tears that built in his eyes.
She took in a gasp of air as her gaze landed on him, then shifted to Jordy as her eyes filled with moisture, too. “My boys. I would know you anywhere. You look so much like your father. But how...how are you here?”
“We ran from Pop and had nowhere to go. We were hoping maybe…” Jordy started, but cut himself off.
Their mother looked at them in confusion. “You ran from your Pop? I don’t understand. Where have you been all this time?”
Now it was Cam’s turn to be confused. “We were with Pop, where you left us, Mom. I know I was pretty young back then, only four, but I remember you left us with him, and we never saw you again,” Cam replied.
“Pop told us you didn’t want us anymore. I know this is a surprise to you and we didn’t mean to interrupt your life, but we just need a little help and then we’ll move on. Cam and I are both hard workers and can pull our own. We promise once we make a few bucks we’ll get out of your life,” Jordy said in a cold voice.
Cam really couldn’t blame his brother. As much as they both wanted to find their mother and had hoped she would be happy to see them and maybe they could have a family with her, there was still hurt there from being abandoned.
“But I…” Mona stammered and turned to the older man. She reached her hand out to him and he immediately grasped it. “Ivan. Please. I don’t understand,” she said in a small, fragile voice that shook with emotion.
“We’ll figure this out, my beloved. Don’t you worry,” Ivan said tenderly.
“But these are my boys, Ivan. I know it. I feel it. How are they here? Where did they come from?”
“Let’s go, Cam,” Jordy hissed through clenched teeth as he stood.
Cam was torn. He wanted to run and escape this place from the rush of feelings that were flowing through him, too, but they had come to find their Mom, and now they had. But her reaction was causing his heart to clench and he could feel the rejection on her tongue. He needed to get away from here, too. He knew it was coming, but he just couldn’t sit here and listen to it. He couldn’t hear it with his own ears.
Cam stood as he clenched his jaw, blinking, trying to keep the tears and pain inside. He took a step toward Jordy and grabbed his brother’s hand, then pulled him along as they approached Thorn. “Excuse me,” he said quietly.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Thorn asked. Cam could see panic in the man's eyes.
“Away from here. You said it yourself, we’re shifters too, so your secret is safe with us. Now, excuse me,” Cam said again, a little more forcefully and pushed past Thorn, dragging Jordy behind him. Cam opened the trailer door and bolted out into the night, Jordy running right with him.
The two continued running, never looking back, until they reached the entrance to the carnival. That’s when Cam suddenly realized that the carnival was closed. There was no music playing, or bells and whistles blaring. No noise was coming from the rides or the throng of people. The lights stayed still and dark, right along with the rides that now sat motionless, looming in the darkness.
Cam reached for the gate, but it was locked with a large padlock. He shook the mesh as he started to lose his fight with his tears and one slipped out, rolling down his cheek. He turned and looked around frantically for a way out.
“Let’s climb, Cam. I don’t see another opening.”
Cam met Jordy’s pain-filled eyes and nodded, then turned back toward the fence, grabbed onto the chain link, and started to climb. Jordy grabbed onto the fence beside him and began climbing too.
“Jordan! Cameron! Stop! Wait!” They heard their mother calling from behind them, but they each ignored her and kept going.
Cam hit the top and threw one leg over, slipping the toe of his sneaker in one of the holes on the outside. Just as he lifted his other leg, a strong hand grabbed his ankle and pulled him back. His grip slipped, and Cam fell. His heart raced, thinking the fall wouldn’t kill him or break anything, but it sure as hell would hurt. But then he was caught by strong arms that engulfed him and pulled him against a wide, solid chest. A sense of peace washed over him and Cam was shocked to find himself suddenly wanting to sigh with happiness and cuddle further into the embrace. He felt so safe for the first time in his life, and he just wanted to stay wrapped in those strong arms.
But it was not to be. The arms tightened for a moment, before they loosened, then released him. Cam stumbled a little before he caught his footing and righted himself. Looking up, his gaze met intense deep blue eyes staring back at him.
“Cameron, Jordan, please, don’t go,” Mona pleaded, breaking their moment.
Cam blinked and turned away, looking to his mother who was now standing before him, with Ivan close at her back. Out of the corner of his eyes he saw Jordy move closer to him, and they both just stood there silently as they looked at their mother.
“My boys, there is so much you don’t understand. I wasn’t rejecting you or turning you away. I was just so shocked to see you both. I thought…” ―she swallowed hard― “I thought you were dead.”

PLEASE NOTE: This book was originally part of an anthology. 6,000 words have been added and it has been re-edited.
Also, 50% of the proceeds from the sale of this book in the first 3 months will go to "The Trevor Foundation" which is a charity to help LGBTQ teens in crisis.

To find out more about Maggie or any of her books, please visit her website at: www.maggiewalshauthor.weebly.com