Finding Destiny by Katrina Hart


Author Bio..

My name is Katrina Hart but I was always called Katie. I live in the East of England

with my family and Holly, Smokey my two cats as well as Jessie our dog, they are a

nutty bunch but I love them all the same. I have always had a passion for reading. I

could easily spend a whole lifetime engrossed in a good book. In my twenties I

joined an online writing class, where I fell in love with writing my own stories. Since I

started writing I have discovered a new love for quotes, a quote that really inspired

was from Toni Morrison. Toni said  “If there’s a book you really want to read but it

hasn’t been written yet, then you must write it.” I came across this quote whilst I was

studying, this is one of the many things that inspired me to begin my first novel. I

always welcome anyone to visit my blog at

Genre: Fantasy Fiction

Book only out in EBook..


When eighteen year old Alex’s little sister’s pony goes missing, he sets out to look

for her and finds himself in a strange gypsy camp in the middle of a forest. The pony

is being cared for by a young girl called Faith. When Alex accepts a drink from

Faith’s grandmother, he wakes up later to find himself transported into 2038 to a

technologically-advanced, very colourful world inhabited by humans and robots. Alex

soon discovers that he is now twenty, married and has a magical little baby girl. A

magic he only seems to notice. He soon finds out that he will have to defend his little

girl from the half-breeds with everything he has. He travels back through the magic

pages of books to try and save her before it is too late and she is lost from him


Sales links…

Publisher site…




Finding Destiny is now available on ITunes


Blogs and Social media links.


Twitter; @KatrinaHart2015




Book Excerpts.. Chapter one..


Finding Destiny

“Destiny! Destiny!” I yelled, walking the dark forest alone.

Broken branches crunched beneath my feet. Black, shadowing trees loomed over

me, following my every move. Owls hooted and flapped in every direction. I

proceeded, calling the girlie-named pony.

I walked till my feet burned. It had been hours with no sign of Destiny, when the

forest seemed to come alive before my eyes! Classical music hummed around a

circle of purple gypsy tents, which surrounded a huge pink camp fire. I rubbed my

tired eyes in disbelief. I opened them again and saw Destiny being cuddled lovingly

by a pale girl with black hair flowing like a never-ending river. I walked over to the girl

and Destiny.

“Hey miss, you found my sister’s pony.” I looked down at them both.

“Mister, she is my pony!” She held Destiny closer in a protective grip.

I was about to argue my point, but a cold hand pushed on my shoulder, stopping


“Grandma! He wants my pony.” The girl pointed in my direction.

“Faith, don’t point it’s rude!” The old woman scolded her like she was a child.

“Where the hell did you come from!” I shouted and jumped to look her in the face.

“My tent, just this way,” the grandma said as she walked inside her purple tent.

I followed, outraged. I just wanted my sister’s pony back.

“Enter,” the old woman croaked, coughing.

“Are you okay!” I whispered.

“Yes! Yes! Don’t worry yourself, now what can I do for you, sir?” She coughed


“I need my sister’s pony back. It’s her everything,” I pleaded.

“My Faith loves her too,” the old lady coughed again.

“I will do anything, I need that pony!” I tried again, staring into the old lady’s

purple eyes.

Her wrinkled, transparent face and white long hair, tied in a bun tight above her

head, made her look frail. She sat down behind a crystal ball. “Anything?”

I nodded.

“Let me see your future,” she coughed, rubbing her crystal ball and looking inside

its clear dome.

The silence dragged on like an unspoken question in a crowded room. Sadness

crossed her face.

“It’s done!” she shouted; her eyes seemed to turn black.

“Thank you.” I smiled, a little confused.

“My pleasure.” She coughed, handing me a blue drink in a clear glass. “Please

drink, it will bring you good luck on your way home. It’s a tradition, you know,” she


I didn’t want to seem rude, so I drained the glass. My head spun and everything

became unfocused.

I fought to see through the darkness. Crying, and the smell of hay surrounded me.

“Hello! Who’s there? Where am I?” I whispered, following the cries of what

sounded like a girl being murdered.

“Hello!” I yelled over her cries. I feared for us both. A light danced on of its own

accord. Straw was everywhere. Pink, blue and red horses wandered about, leaving

their stalls empty. The barn looked steel, unlike anything I had seen before. A

computer was flat-attached to the wall, but there was no keyboard to type on. Had I

been drinking? Or dreaming? I wasn’t sure, but this barn looked far too advanced for

my time.

The girl’s cries turned to screams. The sound was deafening; my heart thumped. I

stood beside the screaming stable door, sliding it open with a loud squeak. Peering

inside, her gaze met mine; her black flowing hair lay upon the straw, sticking to her

sweat-covered forehead.

“Faith? Is that you? What are we doing here?” I rushed to her side.

“I’m screaming and you are late!” she said blowing out a breath.

“I don’t even know where we are, do you?” I retorted.

Faith screamed, grabbing my hand like a vice then relaxing once more. She

placed an old folded piece of paper into my hand.

“Read it!” Her breath came out raggedly.

The note read …

Dear Alex, and Faith.

Destiny had many lovely years with your little sister, as promised Alex.

I saved your lives. You are in 2038 on the morning that bound your futures

together. I saw it!

Don’t hate an old Gypsy for sending you on your way.

Good luck both of you!

The note fell from my hands, “We are in 2038, hell!”

“Isn’t it?” Faith screamed.

I tried to get Faith to let go of my hand. Then her body went stiff and I began to

panic; she needed a doctor or midwife right now. But a cry split the air and a robot

computer handed her a screaming baby.

On the computer screen, fireworks announced Faith had a baby girl

“We,” she whispered, as the robot computer walked away. I kissed Faith softly on

the lips, and a weird deja vu came over me. Love flooded my heart, sending warm

shivers coursing through my body.

“Shall we call her Destiny?” Faith asked, gazing into my eyes.

“That’s perfect,” I smiled.

This was the first moment of my new life.


The Joy of Character Names..

When I started writing Finding Destiny I really enjoyed researching names for my

characters. I started off finding names that had meanings such as Estelle means star

and many other characters have interesting meanings to their names. I also love

putting words together to create names like Madam Moonfighter and Dragonstar and

see if they suit them.

Other times characters have told me their names on first seeing them in my mind.

Even if it’s not a name I would pick I never have the heart to change their names,

because I think if a character reveals a name right away its likely important to them.

I do think names are important not only does each character have to live with at

name for the rest of their story/life, but  a name can also bring out their personality

and even in some cases  make them sound more important than a fellow character.

A name gives a character an identity, so I do think long and hard on names and how

many a character should have. Mainly from personal experience of having two

names myself and growing up often being called both at different times can be

interesting. And often made me think of my star sign Pisces two fish pulling in

different directions. So when choosing my character names I try to choose them as if

that name will seal part of their fate for the rest of their lives and help lead them

down their path to their future.

I think creating names for characters can be fun and I’ve tried a few ways like putting

the name in a different language or mixing two names together. Or thinking of names

that have the cute factor like Woofkin or Fumble.  I also like creating names that suit

a characters personality such as: Missy Talk Alot when she came into my novel she

was bossy and talked a lot about her wants and dreams, therefore she got blessed

with a name that suited how she was as a person. Dragonstar’s name was created

much the same way although I went with dragon because he’s relentless on what he

wants and star because he lurks in trees at night.

One of the things I learnt while naming my characters was some can end up with the

same name spelled two different ways. Through editing and really looking at whether

this would be confusing or not? I decided that in fact it likely would, so now I try really

hard not to have two characters with the same names when I’m choosing or creating


My advice on picking names is to pick them wisely and have fun looking into the

ones that suit your characters best.


Cover Reveal of A Christmas Spark by Ciara Knight




Title: A Christmas Spark

Author: Ciara Knight

Genre: Contemporary Romance

Hosted by: Lady Amber’s Tours


Sara Foster blames herself for her failed marriage. On Christmas Eve, she hides away

in the family cabin, the same place her father abandoned her twenty years ago. Dalton

Scot is unable to face the family holiday after his divorce and discovering he can never

have children of his own, so he chooses Christmas Eve to fix his buddy’s cabin. Both

search for a secluded spot to mourn their Christmas pasts, but instead are snowed in at

the cabin for the holiday where they discover the power of the Christmas spark.

Author Bio:

Ciara Knight writes with a ‘Little Edge and a Lot of Heart’ with her contemporary and

paranormal romance books. Her most recent #1 Amazon bestselling series, Sweetwater

County, has topped the charts and received acclaimed reviews. Her international best-

seller, Pendulum scored 4 stars from RT Book Reviews, accolades from InD’Tale

Magazine and Night Owl Top Pick. Her young adult paranormal series, Battle for Souls,

received 5 stars from Paranormal Romance Guild and Night Owl’s Top Pick, among

other praises.

Author Links:







Cover Reveal of Patronus Series by Sarah M. Ross


Title: Patronus Series


Author: Sarah M. Ross

Genre: YA Paranormal Romance

Hosted by: Lady

Amber’s Tours




Lucy Donovan was supposed to have a

weekend of fun in the sun, celebrating her upcoming graduation from college. In a split second,

everything changed. A drunk driver ended Lucy’s mortal life.

Lucy opens her eyes to a world she never

imagined possible and a new destiny: as a Patronus, a guardian of spirits. Adjusting to her new role and

abilities while negotiating this confusing realm will test her limits and push her further than she ever

dreamed she would go. From wayward spirits who don’t want her help to soul stealing vampires, and

even a stuck-up British royal, Lucy must brave them all to save one spirit she can’t bear to



Further complicating her confusing life is an inexplicable yet growing connection she feels to a member

of her team, Max, whose mysterious behavior leaves her both confused and



Waking up dead was just the beginning of her problems. Lucy’s death is about to become the greatest

adventure of her life.





Sarah started her obsession with reading at an early age, often

sneaking BabySitter Club and Nancy Drew books into math class. She would read any book she could get

her hands on. Her love of reading quickly evolved into a love of writing and stories began to pour out of



She grew up in Pittsburgh, graduated from The University of Pittsburgh with a degree in English, and

taught eighth graders to love reading as much as she does for several years. Sarah will always be a proud

member of the Steelers’ Nation, but couldn’t take the cold and moved her frozen tush to Florida where

she now lives with her husband, daughter, and two cats. You will find her now with her trusty Kindle in

hand and toes in the sand!

Sarah’s debut novel, AWAKEN, released in January, 2012. Other novels include AVENGE, ATONE, ECHO



Author Links:




***All books can be borrowed for FREE

with KU!!***


Tease to Please Event and Giveaway


50 Bestselling, Award-winning Authors, 50 Extraordinary Excerpts, 1 Fabulously Entertaining Book! Plus, a rousing party
and a

Lotus Petals by Brantwijn Serrah



Short Blurb:

Aijyn, human slave to a ruthless vampire Lord, would never dare do anything to incur his wrath.

Then, she fell in love… with his bride.

Longer Blurb:

Rhiannon Donovan, daughter to the vampire Queen, would rather die than be made a bride to a

demon Lord. Aijyn, courtesan to the undead Daimyo of Kansai, can think of nothing more

horrifying than his promise of eternal life.  In the halls of the Blood Lotus Temple, the two

women struggle against the chains of their fate, and find a solace in each other that could mean

freedom for them both… or might cost each of them their lives.

Social and buy links

Brantwijn’s Facebook Page:

Foreplay and Fangs blog:

Foreplay and Fangs on Facebook:

Find Brantwijn on Google+

And on Goodreads

Say hi to her on Twitter

Lotus Petals at Champagne Books

Lotus Petals on Amazon

Lotus Petals on Barnes and Noble


“Rhiannon-sama,” she began again, well aware she might be broaching a subject

Rhiannon would easily wish to avoid, even to the point of sending her attendant violently away.

“Hm?” the vampire murmured.

“Your bodyguard…she likes to see you in pain.”

Rhiannon waited a long time before she answered.

“Perhaps I like pain, mortal.”

Aijyn did not argue…but she had seen the expression on Rhiannon’s face when Sölva had

tormented her.

“You must hide the scars from the daimyo,” she chided gently. “And you cannot allow

her to leave any more marks on you, if you do not wish to anger him.”

“And if I do wish to anger him?”

“Do not be petulant,” Aijyn scolded.

“Does he believe his bride will be untouched? That his kin-born bastard bride will not

have experienced acts of the flesh? I am over half a century a living birth-child. Does he realize

how most kin-born are meant to earn their keep in demon houses?”

“He expects you will be untouched for him,” Aijyn said. “Whatever has gone before, now

you are his. And Gohachiro is not a man to share his treasures.”

“Doesn’t he like to use pain?” Rhiannon asked. She rolled over under Aijyn’s hands,

lying on her side and reaching out to touch the scar she herself had left on the courtesan’s wrist.

At the light caress of her finger, a delicious tingle of pleasure ignited under the skin, making

Aijyn shiver as the vampire had a moment ago.

Rhiannon pulled Aijyn closer, and lowered herself over the wound to kiss it a second

time. The warm arousal intensified, and Aijyn caught her breath as her body awoke to the

sensation, nipples stiffening under the soft silk of her kimono.

“Here,” Rhiannon whispered, reaching up to brush the dark strands of hair from Aijyn’s

shoulder, revealing the tiny, neat scars of bites past. Scars that would never heal the way the

vampire’s did, white little lines and half-moons, memories of Gohachiro’s affections.

“Doesn’t he give you pain…” Rhiannon said, following their contours with light but

deliberate pressure.

“…so he may turn it into pleasure?”

“Rhiannon-sama…” Aijyn murmured vaguely. One hand had dropped into her lap; the

other rested on the vampire’s warm, lean arm. Strange awareness filled her: the touch stirred up

the first bloom of eagerness in her loins and the pit of her belly.

“Pain is what we are, courtesan. Pain, hunger, pleasure, death. We are the undead. I am

just over half a century old, more than twice your age, and I have been Sölva’s for longer than

you have been alive. There are scars you will never see, all over my body: the marks of her

fangs, of her whip, the cut of her blade, the pierce of steel needles. And every one of them sings

when she touches me, screams when she hurts me…and it is ecstasy.”


Aijyn realized with some dread she had made a mistake. The vampire’s touch brushed

against her, terribly light, terribly fleeting, but her voice…soft, beautiful, rich, like strong liquor.

Rhiannon’s hand came to rest on the back of Aijyn’s neck. She gently pulled the

courtesan closer, resting forehead-to-forehead and searching deep into Aijyn’s wide, dark eyes.

“You do this for him, too?” she whispered. “You…perform anma for him? You touch his

body with such delicate affection?”

“Yes,” Aijyn whispered.

“And does it make him want to fuck?”

Before she could think better of it, Aijyn lifted up a hand and slapped her.

The strike was not a hard one. At least, to Rhiannon it would not have been hard. Aijyn’s

palm stung as though she had struck it against solid rock, and she quickly pressed it in her other

hand, hissing with pain.

Rhiannon did not strike back. She remained perfectly still, her expression unchanging.

After a moment, once Aijyn had collected herself, the vampire leaned closer and pressed her

mouth against Aijyn’s own.

“It makes me want to fuck,” she said. Then she stood, one smooth, languid motion, and

retreated to her coffin to at last submit to her daytime sleep.



When she isn’t visiting the worlds of immortals, demons, dragons and goblins, Brantwijn

fills her time with artistic endeavors: sketching, painting, customizing My Little Ponies and

sewing plushies for friends. She can’t handle coffee unless there’s enough cream and sugar to

make it a milkshake, but try and sweeten her tea and she will never forgive you. She moonlights

as a futon for four lazy cats, loves tabletop role-play games, and can spend hours watching

Futurama, Claymore or Buffy the Vampire Slayer while she writes or draws.

Brantwijn has published three full-length erotic novels: Lotus Petals, Goblin Fires, and

His Cemetery Doll. In addition to these, Brantwijn has had several other stories published by

Breathless Press, including contributions to the 2013 Crimson Anthology and 2014 Ravaged

Anthology.  She’s also had a short story published in the Cleiss Press Big Book of Orgasm and the

anthology Coming Together Through The Storm. She has author pages on GoodReads and

Amazon, and loves to see reader comments on her work. Her short stories and audio readings

occasionally pop up at Foreplay and Fangs, her blog at

When I first set out to write Lotus Petals—an erotic historic romance starring a

vampire—I was hesitant to believe it would ever really be marketable. It’s the vampire that

did it: I love the bloodsucking bastards but there sure are a lot of them in the mainstream right

now. One thing you hear often when you’re preparing to submit something for publication is,

you won’t get far writing what other people have already written. Vampires as a topic were

pretty overplayed by the time I got my hands on them.

But alas, the vampire had her fangs in me, and I wanted to tell her story. I wrote the

book without really expecting it to end up on the shelves at any bookstore, but just because I

wanted it for myself, and for the few friends who might be interested in reading about a

lesbian relationship in supernatural Edo Japan.

The fact is, I’ve loved vampires all my life. I can’t even remember when the first

vampire story made its way to me, but I’ve been a Dracula girl since childhood. Buffy the

Vampire Slayer is one of my favorite shows, and RL Stine’s Goodnight Kiss kept tucked

under my pillow for pre-bedtime reading for years. And when it came to writing my first full-

length hot romance, I knew the woman at the helm would have fangs.

There’s something so sexy and sensual about vampires. Even more, I think, if they are

wicked vampires. I don’t like to pussyfoot around with the ‘vegetarian’ ‘good guy’ vamps of

Twilight fame or even the angsty, blood-bank-raiding vampires like Angel. They have their

place, I suppose, but for me, a true, haunting, tempting vampire is one whose inhuman

hungers are more challenging to sate. A creature who is truly dangerous, and if they’re going

to walk the line between hero and villain, I want them to really walk that line. I want to see

them stumble and see their darkest, most terrifying sides. When it comes to romance, it takes

the biggest, baddest, and hungriest creature to grab my interest.

In Lotus Petals, the vampire Rhiannon can’t get by on anything but live human blood.

She can’t pretend she isn’t what she is: the living dead, an apex predator with a hunger unlike

any earthly creature. She is deadly, and vicious, and voracious. And I think this makes her

love affair with the soft courtesan, Aijyn, really hot. Her very nature keeps Aijyn on her toes

in suspense. The attraction is volatile and high-risk: and the reward is ecstasy. In stories like

Twilight and Buffy, there’s always some ‘way out’ to allow the vampire and human to cheat

their way into a happily ever after. The Twilight vampires don’t really gamble much with

their darker sides… heck, they barely even have dark sides! Where’s the great risk, the

sacrifice, the gamble in that?

There are just so many vampire love stories where the challenge of loving vampires is

neutralized. Not so in Lotus Petals. Everything about the love connection comes with real test

of the characters. That’s what I think vampire romance should be.

Release of Love Type Situation by Ray Sostre

Love Type Situation Release Day Banner

Love Type Situation

Author: Ray Sostre

Editor: Elicia S. Stoll

Published by: Bitten Press, LLC

Genre: Contemporary Erotic, Erotic Romance, May/December

Love Type Situation Cover


Sadie’s love life was doomed. She has had her share of bad men in her life, until she met a friend from a long time ago – Andrew. She was intrigued. He has many good qualities of a man she wanted, except one thing – his age. Andrew is younger than her, but better than the man Sadie’s been seeing for the last few months – Dustin Ellerton. When she makes her decision to get rid of the zero and get with the real hero, things get pretty complicated.


credited by Cindy Callender

Buy Links:

Amazon US

Amazon UK





Love Type Situation Teaser 2

Love Type Situation Teaser 3

Love Type Situation Teaser

Love Type Situation Teaser 4

Soundtrack (story inspired by)

Higher Self feat Lauren Mason – Ghosts (2014)

Jessica Folker – To Be Able To Love (Johnathan Peters Remix) (2001)

Shai – If I Ever Fall In Love (1992)

Nelly Furtado – Say It Right (2006)

Kid Ink feat Usher & Tinashae – Body Language

Pussy 2000 – It’s Gonna Be Alright (2001)

Fugees – Killing Me Softly (1996)

Cookie – R. Kelly (2013)

Tamia – So Into You (1998)

Karamel Kel – All Is Well (2012)

N’Sync feat Nelly – Girlfriend (2002)

Clyde Carson feat The Team – Slow Down (2012)

LuvBug – Revive (2014)

You can view the entire soundtrack right here: YouTube – Love Type Situation Soundtrack

Trivial Facts on Love Type Situation

The character, Andrew Bishop, is a reflection of Author Ray Sostre when he worked as a DJ in the gay clubs from 2001 – 2002. He was the only straight male working the circuit at that time.

The Stinson Beach scene was inspired by Ray Sostre’s trip to Marin County, California in May 2014.

Love Type Situation was inspired by Lisette Melendez’s 1994 song Love Type Situation.

You can view more of the trivial facts about Love Type Situation here

About Ray Sostre

Picture Of Ray S 2014

New York born, East Coast raised, and West Coast bound.

Writing erotica happened by accident in the summer of 2010. That same year, he established a story submission site – AfterDark Online, a place for erotic authors.

He lives in Nevada with his long-time girlfriend, is an avid listener of electronica, and enjoys writing and publishing articles. He jokes: “I’m always looking for writing material.”



Her Vigilant Seal by Caitlyn O’Leary with giveaway

Vigilant Seal 4


Her Vigilant Seal: Midnight Delta Book 1

A Heart of Gold

Sophia Anderson takes care of everyone but herself. She will stop at nothing to keep her family safe.

When she goes searching for her runaway little brother in a bad part of town, she becomes the one in

need of rescue.

A White Knight

Navy SEAL, Mason Gault, faced many dangers while in the line of duty. No matter how bad a mission has

gone, he finds solace in three things: His family, friends and the waves of the Pacific. When he hears a

woman’s screams for help, he charges in to save her without a second thought.

A Dangerous Love

Sophia is burdened with scars from her past. Mason understands that empowering her spirit is just as

important as protecting her well-being. As their love and passion soars, so do threats against her. Can

Mason continue to be the compassionate white knight that she needs, while ensuring her safety?


Links to Buy:








“Ah hell, it’s Sophia,” the cop said as he crouched next to the woman in Mason’s arms.

“How do you know her?” Mason’s head jerked up and he eyed the cop.

“She’s been looking for her brother again. He keeps running away from his foster home. She’s been

searching for him the last four nights. I told her it wasn’t safe.” Mason looked down at the unconscious

woman and agreed with the patrolman’s assessment.

“How much longer before the ambulance arrives?” Mason clipped out the question.

“How bad is she? What happened?” The cop nodded to where Mason’s jacket was covering Sophia’s


“They just got her top off, but they cut her pretty badly on the arm. I’ve got her bandaged and most of

the bleeding stopped. She’s going to need a shit-load of stitches. What’s the ETA on the ambulance?”

Mason shifted her gently as he again gave the cop a penetrating stare.

“It’s about fifteen more minutes. There was a bad pile-up on the Five Freeway with fatalities. You did

good work tonight. You military?” the cop asked as he assessed Mason.


“I was Navy too,” the cop said. “You okay with her while I work on getting these two assholes taken

care of?” The cop nodded towards the two thugs who were sitting handcuffed in the alley and being

looked after by his partner.

“I’ve got her.” Mason looked down at Sophia again ensuring she was okay. “What about the girl who

made the call?”

“What girl?” the cop asked.

Mason looked around and realized the girl and his phone were long gone.

“There was another girl who looked like she’d been beaten too. She got me to come over here to help.”

Mason gave the information like he was reporting to his commander.

“She must have taken off after she called for help,” the officer said.

“Oh no,” came the soft words. Mason looked down and saw green eyes clouded with worry looking up

at him.

“What? Did you say something Sophia?” he asked.

“The girl is gone? She’s hurt.” It was hard to understand her through her bruised mouth.

“Settle honey, you’re hurt. You need to stay calm and rest until the ambulance comes.” Mason

watched as she struggled to get up, and then cried out in pain. She collapsed against him. Fuck, it had

to be her shoulder. He’d already taken off his shirt and used it as a bandage and a tourniquet earlier.

He eased back the leather jacket that he had placed over her to see if it had come loose.

“Don’t move again, okay Sophia.” God, when would the ambulance get here?

“You’ve got to find the girl I think they cut her too. I’ve got to get up, I need to look for Billy. Please

don’t hold me down. I need to get up, let me up,” she damn near screamed the last few words. Mason

realized she was delirious. The cop looked over at him and he shook his head.

“Sophia, my name is Mason. We’re going to get you to the hospital. Do you understand me, honey?”

He waited to see if she was tracking. She finally nodded. “Good, after they’re done taking care of you,

you can come look for Billy again.” She relaxed a little, and he relaxed a little as well.

“And the girl? Can I look for the girl too?” she begged him with big eyes.

“Yes, you can look for the girl too.” He stroked the hair from her forehead.

“Do you promise Mason?” She tried to lift her arm to grab the front of his jacket and let out a small

shriek of pain. “Why does it hurt?” He saw her start to tremble and wrapped his jacket closer around

her ensuring it was snug so she couldn’t move her arms any longer.

“Are you warm now?”

“Yes. Will I be able to go to work and then look for Billy tomorrow?” It took a moment for him to

understand her, and when he did it took him a few seconds to formulate a response other than ‘Hell


“I think you’re going to be in the hospital for at least a couple of days.”

“No, I hate hospitals, don’t make me go to the hospital.” He watched as tears dripped down her

temples into her silky blonde hair.

“Honey, you have to go you’ve been injured. A doctor has to help you.” She was trembling so bad he

was worried she was going into shock.

“I can’t afford a hospital. Can you take me home?” God, she was breaking his heart.

“Let’s see what the doctor says first.”

Mason heard the siren and Sophia must have heard it too. Somehow she pushed off the heavy leather

coat. “No, no ambulance, no hospital. I have to find Billy.” She tried getting up one last time and

groaned as she put pressure on her cut shoulder.

“You’ve got to stay still.” He couldn’t believe the compassion this woman had, here she was bleeding

and bruised, almost raped, and her entire concern was for her brother and the other girl. She was

beautiful inside and out.

Just then she gripped her head where he saw a large bruise and lump forming. He saw her green eyes

begin to glaze over. “Honey, stay with me.” He brushed his fingers tenderly along her cheek willing her

to stay awake.

“Mason’s a nice name,” her words were slurred.

Just as the EMT’s arrived she passed out.



caitlyn oleary Author Bio

Caitlyn O’Leary was raised in a small town in the Pacific Northwest. She has been an avid reader. Her

earliest creative writing endeavors consisted of “ghost writing” exercises in which she pretended to be

her younger brothers and sisters when she did their homework assignments before they turned them in

as their own.

Years in corporate America honed her ability to manipulate words by day, and at night she read

everything she could get her hands on, including many, romances!

Happily married to her long, tall Texan and living in Southern California, Caitlyn has finally found the

time to write very steamy happily-every-afters for Siren/Bookstrand.

She has just started writing the Found series. It’s a bit Paranormal, a bit Sci-Fi and 100%

Action/Adventure. The characters have special abilities, that make them targets.

She loves to hear from her readers.

Keep Up With Caitlyn O’Leary








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Impure Bargains by Decadent Kane


Impure Bargains
Buy Link


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Blurb for Impure Bargains by Decadent Kane

Desiderus has served Ba’al faithfully for nearly one hundred years. When Haven Rowe put a gun to

his head and pulled the trigger, her fierce nature stirred emotions he hadn’t felt since before Ba’al

claimed him. With his sight set on consuming her body and soul, he’ll use every deceptive idea at his

disposal to make sure she belongs to him.

When Haven walked in on a demon stealing her brother, Jeremy, her entire world unraveled. Born

to a family of magic users, yet unable to use magic of her own, Haven will do anything to get her

brother back from the depths of hell, even if it means she has to bargain her soul.

With the help of a witch, Haven seeks out loopholes to the soul bargains that have been made. She

either finds a way out for her and Jeremy, or they both might be lost forever. What she doesn’t

count on is the betrayal of her own body and the insurmountable attraction she has for the demon

she’s trying to escape.


Surprised by the female’s actions, Desiderus watched her run for a moment before his mind registered

her actions. Her obsidian hair flew behind her with a strange bag slung over her small shoulders. In a way, he

should have known Haven would bolt. Experience all but told him that. Many had run and failed. Desiderus

shook his head and a grin spread across his lips. She wouldn’t get far and not just because she was naked. He

had a pretty good idea that Haven didn’t worry about her loss of clothes as much as she worried about what he

might do to her. He would have loved nothing more than to chase after her…but she needed to be taught a

lesson, to understand what it meant for him to have her name, for him to be in control.

After quickly making Ba’al’s sign in the air in front of him, a toad with a circle, magic flickered into the

sigil like sparking a match. The sign brightened to an orange color. Desiderus had been a demon so long it took

seconds to create. Under his breath, he let her name roll off his tongue in one easy motion, “Haven Rowe.”

The color of the sigil sprinkled away on a breeze and black smoke swirled. Haven’s image slowly

began to appear, little by little, tantalizing, as if she somehow knew he wanted her body, far more than he had

any other mortal female. Her legs came first, the lazy curve of her hips, he groaned with the swell of her heaving

breasts, and finally her face construed in a perfect scowl piercing him with those damn blue eyes.

“Running will do you no good, Haven.” Inside lust coiled around his core, urging him to do anything

but stand there looking staring. Her skin shimmering with sweat, making his tongue slip out to lick his lips. He

swallowed a groan at the thought of tasting her tanned flesh. Lost in his erotic notions he didn’t see her foot until

it was too late and a sharp jolt of lightning like pain raced up from between his legs, shooting over his spine and

slamming into the base of his brain. Colors formed in his eyes and he blinked it away as his stomach churned.

His knees weakened, but he kept himself standing somehow, adrenalin replacing the pain as anger mounted

inside him like a lion.

“But that does demon.” Haven turned to run for the second time and despite the throbbing radiating

from his balls, Desiderus reached out for her, latching fingers around an ankle that had come up from the ground

and Haven fell front first into the dirt with Desiderus falling on top of her.

# 1 book for self-publishing authors

There is a ton of information out in the world, much of it comes from other authors, teachers, and

even people who just repeat what others say. But I’m going to boil it down to the one book I think

every self-published author should invest in not only buying but rereading over and over again.

I have an entire shelf dedicated to books helping me improve myself as an author. Yes even the giant

Chicago manual of Style! There are books out there for grammar, for scenes, and even for writing

prompts to push you through writers block.

But I want to focus on improving you as a writer. There are tons of useful books to do this and I’m

sure you will ask why would this one I’m about to give you be the best resource for you? Well let me

reveal and explain…

The book:  Manuscript Makeover: revision techniques no fiction writer can afford to ignore by

Elizabeth Lyon


Professional editor and author Elizabeth Lyon offers aspiring novelists the guidance and

instruction they need to write and edit well-crafted and compelling stories that will stand out from

the competition and attract the attention of agents and publishers, including:

– Stand-out style techniques, from accessing an authentic voice to applying techniques of

“wordsmithing” that transform prose

– How to rewrite characterization for dimensionality, a universal need, and theme

– Adjustment suggestions to match the prose style and structure of specific genres

– Correct grammar, punctuation, spelling, and style

– Strategies to strengthen story beginnings and endings

– Methods for increasing plot stakes, creating movement, and adjusting pace for maximum


Why should you have it?

If the blurb alone isn’t compelling for you- well let me go even further. As a fellow author, writer,

and reader, this book has amazing information inside. It is extensively detailed and good for both

seasoned authors as well as aspiring authors.

I have marks all over in this book and repeat referencing it all the time when I start revising. I learn

new stuff to apply to future projects as well.

Want to more sentence variety? Flip over to page 24 where the five types of sentences are explained

with examples. The section even includes ways to revise for better impact.

Want to know more about viewpoints? Check out part three “Characterization Endures” where all

types are explained.

Perhaps pacing is an issue? Well she has an entire section dedicated to it, as well as the advantages

and disadvantages of using different types.

What about exploring themes? There is an entire list of things to explore from basic to common

conflicts and themes.

This one book explores nearly any aspect of writing including voice, elements, plots, and more. It has

such a vast amount of information that reading it just one time will not be enough. It will be a book

you refer back to often and is well worth your time to do so.

If your serious about your skill- if you want to continue to learn and improve which every self-

published author should want to- then pick it up- you won’t regret it.


Decadent Kane


Decadent Kane, author of the trouble with elves series, writes paranormal romance with heat. She lives in

Wyoming with a full house: 3 dogs, 1 cat, 1 guinea pig, 1 rat, 2 kids, and 1 fiance.

An elfess in human form, Decadent enjoys dipping her fingers into the human realm where she took pen to

paper and began the tales of the trouble with elves. Her obsessions include reading, Dean Winchester, and


She will devour your soul with glimpses of the feral ridden drow elves, with their dark skin and soul

consuming. She’ll sneak morsels of naughty thoughts to you via goblins, and seduce you into stepping

inside the elven realm where females disappear when lust takes over among other elfish troubles.

Beware the sprites.

Follow the wisps.

But never look a drow elf king in the eyes…

Promo /Review tour for J.C.Clarke


Carnal Theory by Henry Corrigan


Carnal Theory

by Henry Corrigan


Dr. Elizabeth Spencer has a theory about sex.

As Northeastern State University’s leading behavioral researcher, the beautiful yet guarded

doctor believes that lifelong satisfaction is no longer a couple’s only game.

After being left to her own devices thanks to years of disappointment, Spencer sets out to put

her theory to the test. But when she meets her subject, the handsome, stubborn and

unpredictable Dr. Michael Aaronson, more than just the science begins to go awry.

As their sessions together heat up, and the two find themselves more and more on common

ground, a sudden betrayal puts the entire project and their careers in jeopardy. Thrust into the

national spotlight with questions flying on all sides, Spencer and Aaronson must face not only

an uncertain future, but their own pasts as well.

Will Spencer lose everything she set out to prove? Or will she finally find the satisfaction she’s

been looking for all her life?

People come to erotica for the heat, but they stay for the heart.

Buy Link:




Author Bio:

Henry started writing erotica for the same reason that gets most people into trouble; Because of

girl. He writes contemporary erotic fiction, romance and speculative erotica as well. His stories

focus on the bonds of love, friendship and marriage and he believes it is the heart, the love that

grows between characters, which brings readers back for more. Henry was born and raised in

Long Island, New York. His story Absence on Film, was published by Coming Together in 2015.

For more from Henry, you can check out his blog, or find him on Facebook and Twitter.

Twitter: @HenryCorrigan



In the Language Arts building of Northeastern State University, Professor George

Conklin sat behind his desk and stared at what he’d come to think of as the greatest enigma of

his career.

The enigma stared back at him quietly, eyes steady and calculating. Her face was

perfectly neutral, body formed into the chair with a relaxed poise. She made no move to avoid

his scrutiny, but the longer he looked the more he felt stonewalled by a sharp, coiled

intelligence. He had known the enigma for six months but was still no closer to understanding


He’d also been sleeping with her for equally as long, which did nothing to help his case.

Dr. Elizabeth Spencer, was five foot six, one hundred and thirty pounds, with cropped

blonde hair and hazel eyes. She moved with sharp, viciously economical movements, like the

wheels of a rushing train. Even when still, a quick glance at her eyes confirmed the mind behind

them all was always clicking away.

Spencer was the university’s foremost researcher into human biorhythms and behavioral

psychology. Hired shortly after receiving her doctorate, her articles had appeared in numerous

journals and she was widely respected in her field. Which in itself was an accomplishment

because she wasn’t yet thirty-five years old.

But for as often as her brilliant intellect occupied Conklin’s thoughts, her mind wasn’t

what currently slicked his palms.

One night six months ago Conklin, a professor of English Literature who often stayed

late to grade papers, opened his office door to find Spencer standing calmly in the hallway. In all

his years at the university, the two of them had spoken less than half a dozen times. Every

conversation had been awkward and strained. At least for Conklin.

The standard convention for polite conversation called for taking an interest in the well-

being of the other person. Usually characterized by questions such as, “How are you?” “How

have you been?” or the more colloquial “Sup’?”

Spencer never so much as acknowledged such a convention existed. She always struck

right to the point whenever she spoke and eschewed any and all forms of polite chitchat. As

they sat together that night, Conklin had all but convinced himself she was there to discuss

something academic, or philosophical. Though what the topic might’ve been, he couldn’t have

begun to fathom.

Which was the reason for his near attack of apoplexy when Spencer told him exactly

what she came to talk about.

“I propose the two of us should become sexual partners.”

Before Conklin could even react, Spencer launched into her justification.

“I’ve been studying your finer points for some time now, Professor Conklin. We are both

hard working, highly intelligent, dedicated individuals, which already suggests we would be

compatible. Our lifestyles are too equally hectic to support any sort of emotional attachment. So

in my assessment, a purely sexual relationship, kept to a strict schedule, would be beneficial to

both our well beings.”

Conklin was flabbergasted. His mouth opened and shut a dozen times as thoughts about

her proposal rattled through his head. In the back of his mind he knew he should have balked at

the idea. He had no illusions the awkwardness of speaking to her would ever fade, and he was

man enough to admit she intimidated the Hell out of him.

But on the other hand, Jesus, it had been months since anyone made him an offer like…

Well frankly, no one had ever made him an offer like this.


Everything about Spencer was a little left of normal. Her hazel eyes were more gold than

brown. Her lips were pale pink, the color of roses in early spring. The clean, striking planes of

her face weren’t traditionally beautiful, but they caught the eye anyway. Gave her a sensual

quality, which was hard to pin down. Then there was her scent. Even from across the room he

caught the edges of it. Something both sweet but spicy, like cinnamon or cardamom.

He spared himself a few more seconds to consider her offer, then threw aside his

reservations and simply nodded. He was keenly aware of the pounding of his heart.

Seconds after giving his assent, Spencer stood up and, without preamble, stripped down

to reveal lingerie so red it gave her pale skin a kind of glow. For a woman who talked robotically

and had the most meticulously clinical mind of any on campus, she possessed the widest and

most intense sexual imagination of any lover Conklin ever had.

Every weekday night since, at exactly five forty five, Spencer would enter his office, strip

off her lab coat and begin a ninety minute session of explosive carnality almost unheard of in

polite society. Afterwards, Conklin would stumble from his office exhausted and deliriously


Now however, it was five fifty one and she sat in complete silence. Her attention on an

imaginary point beyond Conklin’s left shoulder. Unable to ignore his own biology any longer, he

uncrossed his legs to relieve the painful pressure in his groin. Mentally he shook his head.

By rights, his office couch should have been creaking like a stagecoach over rough

terrain. He needed to see what she had on under her lab coat. Spencer never wore the same

outfit twice. In the past, he’d born witness to everything from functional bras and panties to full

corsets with garters.

When she at long last, stood up and approached his desk, Conklin broke into a broad

grin and began to strip off his tie. But instead of quickly disrobing, Spencer stopped an arm’s

length away, produced a slim file from a coat pocket and plunked it down onto his desk. In the

second it took him to register it, she turned and sat down without ever once changing


Conklin was dumbfounded. His eyes yearned for her to come back. But if Spencer

understood the look, she ignored it. She sat with a determined calm and pointed one callused

finger at the file.

Conklin snatched it up in a fury, unable to believe anything could be more important than

the incessant twitching between his legs. As the pages passed, his foggy, hyper—aroused brain

tried to make sense of what he was looking at. He read line after line until his brow crinkled.

What on Earth?

He read further, took in a whole page. Then the next. And the next. By page sixteen

Conklin’s eyes were wide and he was laughing so hard tears rolled down his cheeks.

“Are you serious about this?”

Spencer looked shocked at the question. “Of course I’m serious. I would have thought

that was obvious.”

Conklin, still laughing, flipped back to the cover page.

Sexual Mechanics and the Unilateral Ownership of Orgasm.

Underneath it read, “Is a sexual partner necessary to achieve frequent and lasting

sexual satisfaction?”

Conklin slapped his palm against the cover and tried to catch his breath. “What on Earth

made you come up with this?”

Spencer sat forward, instantly ready to discuss the genesis of what was, in essence, a

proposal for a research experiment. “I want to settle the debate about the necessity of sexual


Conklin smirked. “My dear. I think that debate was settled ages ago.”

The gold in Spencer’s eyes flickered, like the edge of a blade pressed to a whetstone. “I

think not. In fact, I strongly believe the debate was never settled and needs to have a definitive,

conclusive answer.”

“Why for Heaven’s sake?”

“Because the concept of coupling as the key component for sexual satisfaction may be

based on a fallacy.”

Conklin opened his mouth to rebuff such a ridiculous statement, but then stopped.

Something he’d read stuck in his brain. He flipped back over charts, graphs and footnotes until

he found it. Filed under Project Specifications.

He read it again and the grin, which broke across his face was so joyful, it bordered on

hysteria. He looked at Spencer and let the file slip from his fingers. He growled as he spoke.

“Your project. It will require multiple…what did you call them? Sessions for sexual


“That’s correct. Each session is designed to be more involved and complicated than the

last, so as to test the subject’s sexual abilities at multiple levels.”

“You intend to use yourself as part of this experiment?”

“Yes. I believe I am the ideal candidate, considering my own past sexual history.”

“And your partner?”

“Also ideal, in my opinion.”

“I should say,” said Conklin, his eyes feverishly amorous.

“And the University has approved this?”

“Absolutely,” said Spencer. “Sexual mechanics is a burgeoning field of study. And my

experiment has the potential to reveal new insights into the nature of human orgasm.”

Conklin snickered. “That is indeed exciting. I especially like Stage 4. The idea of


“Toys,” finished Spencer.

“Yessss. If I may ask, what made you want to make this a part of your experiment?”

“This was honestly a personal decision. If all the previous Sessions failed, then I wanted

to test my partner’s abilities with certain key sexual devices. For instance, the seven inch purple

vibrator detailed in diagram 4.2, has brought me to orgasm every single time you failed to satisfy

me. Why are you unbuttoning your shirt?”

Conklin’s fingers froze. “What?”

“Your shirt. I don’t understand why you’re undressing.”

Like film stock being rewound, Conklin’s brain rolled back till it remembered what she’d

said. Then all the blood drained from his face.

“Wait. Um, I. Every time I failed to…What?!”

Spencer’s eyes narrowed. “The purple and red vibrator. It has satisfied me every time…”

“I heard you the first time! What the Hell does that mean?”

Spencer quieted. She tapped a finger against the arm of her chair, then slowly nodded.

“I suspected as much. You never noticed. Well, Professor Conklin, this may come as

quite a shock to you. But in the six months of our relationship, you failed to satisfy me more than

ninety percent of the time.”


“Did you need me to repeat something?”

“No! I don’t need you to repeat anything!”

Conklin was red faced and gripped the edges of his desk for dear life. “But…but you

can’t be serious?”

“I don’t see how my seriousness plays a factor in this. I’m merely stating a fact. You are

not at all proficient in bed.”

“You…you…I’m not…You.”

“I spent considerable time puzzling over this by the way. It was difficult for me to

determine the source of your sexual ineptitude.”

Conklin growled but Spencer continued unabated. “After all, you are physically fit,

possess a higher than average intelligence and your penis is of sufficient length and girth. After

eliminating all of these possible impediments, there was only one answer. Your technique is sub


Conklin came around his desk and stood in the middle of the room. Feet firmly planted,

arms out as if he were a defensive lineman trying to stop the onrushing truth of Spencer’s


“Dr. Spencer. This is—an unfortunate circumstance. One I am prepared…More than

prepared to rectify. When do you want to start your experiment? I am ready to go right now!”

“Begin?” Spencer’s eyebrows came together in puzzlement.

“Professor Conklin, I’m afraid you misunderstand my intentions. I didn’t come here to

recruit you for the project. I came to tell you that since you will not be participating, I see no

reason for our sexual arrangement to continue.”

Conklin’s breathing was erratic. “Who. Is. The. Subject?”

“Well, there are three potential candidates,” she said.

“It’s Robertson, isn’t it? That bastard has had it in for me for years!”

“Professor Robertson is seventy two years old. He had his hip replaced last fall. I hardly

think he would be capable of participating in even Stage One. In fact, I’m positive Stage Three

would kill him.”

“Enough! Fuck Robertson! No! I mean. I mean no one else is participating in this

experiment except me. Strip off the lab coat and break out the tape recorder Dr. Spencer. We

are starting this right now!”

With gusto, Conklin tried to both rip his shirt off and unbuckle his pants at the same time.

But his movements were wild and spastic and he ended up stuck, shirt half off, both eyes

covered. Spencer stood up to try and help but before she could reach him, Conklin lurched hard

to the right and tripped over the leg of his desk. He tumbled ass over teakettle to the floor and

landed in one big, half-dressed heap.

Contorting himself like a circus performer, he stared at her through his sleeve while one

hand flailed desperately at the fly of his pants.

“I’m fine! Ready to go. No problem.”

“Professor Conklin, I feel this situation has gotten out of hand.”

“I won’t be a minute! Get ready for the balling of your life!”

Spencer made a hasty dash for the door. “I think I should leave. Give you time to, um,

collect your thoughts.”

“Don’t fuck Robertson!”

She slipped out into the hall. Through the door came, “Don’t. Fuck. Robertson!”


Dealing with Professional Criticism

One of the first pieces of advice I received upon joining a writing group was that I had to

develop “a thick skin.” Criticism is as much a part of writing as the editing process is and once a

story is published, authors have no control over how their work will be received or interpreted.

This reception can come in the form of a poor review on Amazon, a sharply worded rejection

letter, or stony silence from a publisher you submitted to months ago.

Writer’s groups are full of stories about reviewers who spewed vitriol in a personal attack on an

author rather than a cogent and reasonable explanation of why that particular book wasn’t

their cup of tea. While Internet trolls are difficult to deal with in any situation, you can

eventually off their rage inducing words as their attempt to make themselves feel better by

making you feel like crap.

However, the much more difficult criticism to deal with is the one that is both harsh and right

on the money. Last year, I submitted a story for consideration in a “Best of…” anthology. I had

high hopes for the story as I thought it was an interesting take on a man learning to deal with a

disability. Weeks went by but eventually I received an email from one of the lead editors. In it

he said he liked the story and would consider it for the anthology if…and from here I lost the

ability to think properly because I was tripping over words such as “grossly overwritten” and

“amateurish.” The editor, whether he knew it or not, came off as smug, elitist and curt

bordering on caustic. I hated him within three sentences.

Rather than fire off an expletive filled reply, I took the night to calm down and forced myself to

think about it objectively. I took a look at the annotated manuscript he’d sent back and as the

minutes went by, I realized I could cut out over four hundred words and not lose one ounce of

the story.

This sudden epiphany hurt like Hell.

I wanted to tell the editor off, but instead I wrote him back the next day, thanked him for his

critique and said yes, I was willing to make the necessary changes to the story.

It took time, a trained eye and a new appreciation for Ginsberg’s “Kill Your Darlings” but I did it.

I pared down all of the extraneous words and found the story all the better for it. I’d learned

how to trust the reader’s imagination and to recognize when I was over-explaining. Could it

have been delivered in a more polite manner? Absolutely, but I was able to put my personal

feelings aside and see the well thought out critique beneath. It may not have one him any

brownie points with me personally, but it helped make me a better writer.


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