Nothing More by Dillion Kane




Catch up on Nothing More by #DillionKane before Nothing’s Free comes out! It is only $.99.Grab your copy today!

Buy links

US Link:

UK Link:






Satin and Steel by Brantwijn Serrah


The Book Mistress Tours


Satin and Steel

Blood & Fire, Book 2


Brantwijn Serrah

Genre: Paranormal Erotic Romance (NC17)

Buy Link

Satin and Steel at Champagne Books

Satin and Steel on Amazon

Satin and Steel on Barnes and Noble

Book blurb

They say love ruined her. It’s time to prove them wrong.

Half a century ago, Rhiannon lost the woman she loved. Since then, unlife has held little

meaning for her, and she’s fallen from grace among the vampire nation. She once swore to

throw herself into the sun the day Aijyn died…but it turns out she’s no good at keeping


Sometimes the best cure for heartache is surrender. There’s a demon in London with new

promises: darkness to run in, pleasures to hunt, rules to break. Sent to track down a dangerous

traitor, Rhiannon is caught up in a game of murder and treachery between three warring

races…and the sinful, seductive shadow-walker who could be her redemption, or her ultimate


Author bio

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, American Horror Story or Buffy the Vampire Slayer while she

writes or draws.

In addition to her novels, Brantwijn has self-published erotic short stories available on

Smashwords or Amazon.  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 hopes to have

several more tales to tell as time goes on.  She has author pages on GoodReads and Amazon,

and loves to see reader comments on her work. Her short stories occasionally pop up at

Foreplay and Fangs, her blog at

Social 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

Book excerpt

In a blink, the demon disappeared into the silhouette of the smoke stack. Then, Rhiannon felt

slender fingers brushing along her shoulder, slow and coy. She spun to find Vivienne

lounging happily on her stomach atop another chimney, slipped there through the shadows

without a sound.

“What we have heard about you,” she said, “is far from rumor.”

Rhiannon jerked away. “Don’t touch me.”

The corner of Vivienne’s smile twitched, for a moment becoming hard, an irritated scowl.

“Your kind is only the Fourth Blood of the Drogh Lord’s kingdom,” she hissed. “The

werewolves and shadiil came long before vampires. We are older than even the oldest of your

race, gravespawn, something you and your mother would do well to keep in mind.”

Rhiannon bristled at the insult. “Older than vampires, but still the spawn of beasts,” she spat.

“Rife with a touch of madness because of it, I’d say.”

Vivienne fell silent, searching Rhiannon carefully. “They say you have been mad once.”

Rhiannon’s spine straightened. A wary prickle traveled through her shoulders and a low

growl started deep in her throat.

“Drank the blood of another vampire, didn’t you?” the shadiil purred. “Drained a rival

warrior to death, just as a rabid thrall does, and lost your pretty little mind.”

Rhiannon’s hand returned to the hilt of her blade.

“You haven’t exactly been the same since then, have you, Rhiannon Donovan?”

“It’s a lie,” she muttered. “I am not a thrall. I know my own mind and I am not rabid!”

Vivienne’s smirk returned, as if renewed by the anger she’d provoked. She slid her knees out

from under her and dropped to the rooftop, backing Rhiannon down.

“You were expected to become the first Archon in the history of the Blood Circle Council to

bear four fangs,” she said. “A vampire colder and crueler than any ever squirted out from

between her dam’s thighs. Colder and crueler than most who were sired with a bite, perhaps.

What happened to you, Rhiannon Donovan? Where did your strict, disciplined focus and

cold-blooded dedication go? Where is the tigre méchant et sanguinaire, the malicious and

bloodthirsty tiger?”

“Back away, shadiil,” the vampire spat. “I am still a Weapons master.”

Vivienne stopped, tilting her head, scanning Rhiannon up and down with giddy cruelty.

“They were wrong about you,” she said. “You are no Archon.”

“It no longer matters to me if I am.”

Green eyes glittered. “My race knows better, little Rhiannon. My queen knows better. You

will throw off every expectation the bloodsuckers have of you. You will throw off every

expectation everyone has of you. You are no Archon at heart.”

She stood close enough that her pretty, elfin nose almost touched Rhiannon’s. The vampire

realized she’d stopped growling, caught off guard by those glowing, hypnotic eyes.

“Non, non, Rhiannon. At heart, you are nothing less than a Councilwoman herself.”

Rhiannon snorted.

“You are the one who is mad, shadiil,” she muttered, turning to slip down the way she had

come. “Run off. Let me hunt in peace.”

“I am not teasing you, ma chérie,” Vivienne said with a smile. “This is what the seers have

told us: you will become the greatest vampire among all vampires.”

“Your seers are blind.”

With a cold rush of shadows, the other demon appeared out of the darkness before her,

materialized in the silhouette of the window casement.

“Enough of grand talk then, since it bothers you so,” she murmured. “Reconsider hunting

with me. We will find this beast and put it in the ground. You can go back to your race a hero

and get back on the path you pursued so hungrily before you lost your mind.”

“I didn’t lose my mind!” Rhiannon insisted, pushing past her.

“The shadiil prides of London and our werewolf allies will be far more helpful to you than

your own kind. We are not so busy prattling about the blame and covering up our blunders.

You will find us to be far more pleasant company.”

“I don’t want company.”

“Arrêtez, ma cher…wait.”

Rhiannon paused, another growl escaping her.

Vivienne strolled up to her side. “May I see your teeth, ma beau chérie?”

Rhiannon sneered. “What?”

Vivienne lunged, putting her soft hands to Rhiannon’s face and nudging her lips away from

her teeth. As the curious beast inspected the bracketed fangs in eyeteeth and canines, her

smile quirked up at the corners even more. She started to purr, her tongue peeking out to run

over her dark lips.

“Oh…they are most lovely, bastard child,” she murmured, stroking one hand along

Rhiannon’s cheek. “So lovely, I could almost bite you myself, and send you home to your

mother with my naughty teeth marks all over your tight little body.”


I recently read a book in which the author used no dialogue tags.

Do NOT do this.

Since becoming more active in the Indie Author Community, I hear lots of editing tips

thrown around. Some of these I’ve adopted (such as cutting waaaaaay down on my use of the

word “was”), while some I refuse to accept. One piece of advice which surely began with

sage intentions, but which I utterly loathe in its full-fledged format, is the advice to cut out

dialogue tags.

What are dialogue tags, you ask? Well, they are words to say that you said a thing, and

perhaps how you said it. Said is probably the most common dialogue tag, followed by ask.

There are hundreds more including mumbled, grumbled, shot, snapped, demanded, growled,

shouted, interjected, ejaculated (oh yeah, that’s really one of them), griped, groused, and


Now just what’s wrong with using dialogue tags, you wonder? They seem like perfectly

normal, acceptable words, don’t they?

Well, I’m not sure when dialogue tags started getting such a bad rap, but in my personal

belief, it was the adverbs who started it all. Phrases like “he said smugly”, “she cried

happily”, “they shouted uproariously”. Adverbs are the enablers of lazy writing. The

elimination of adverbs is sensible because it encourages showing rather than telling. Instead

of relying on an adverb to describe how a person said something—for example,

angrily—creative writers ought to communicate a character’s anger through his choice of

words, body language, and/or action. The writer can “angry up” his characters’ choice of

words, adding in curses; short snappy phrasing; a harsh gesture or two. Or, he can use a

dialogue tag:

“You’re wrong,” he grated.

Now, personally, I enjoy expressive dialogue descriptions and find them perfectly legit,

assuming they are used in a reasonable and thoughtful manner. Like all language, dialogue

and its context have a rhythm and a balance, and you don’t want to overload that balance with

what we believe to be creative and original ways to describe speaking. That’s not to say you

must weed them all out, though. Long stretches of dialogue without dialogue tags becomes

choppy, strange, and rife with that cringy feel you get when it comes to comma splices. Don’t

avoid dialogue tags; use them wisely.

Strange Dialogue Tags

I absolutely believe people can say things in a purr. I can put together what it means when

someone hisses their statement, even if there’s not a lot of “s” sounds in it. I can figure out

what it means when someone sighs or breathes or even smiles their words. Howled, growled,

rumbled, thundered, keened, fumed, blustered, barked, crowed, and screeched…here are

some wonderfully evocative ways to describe how someone can say a thing. Unfortunately, it

seems like editors and academics dock even more points for tags like these. The problem

evidently comes down to a complaint that you can’t growl/grin/frown words.

Well, maybe not literally. But readers are smart cookies. I trust mine will know what is meant

when I say a woman purred something to her lover or a tired old man wheezed through his

final will and testament as his lawyer transcribed. I’m not entirely sure why metaphors are

okay elsewhere in narrative, but when it comes to dialogue we must be so very, very literal.

So I’ll just be going ahead with my metaphorical dialogue tags, personally, and I’m behind

anyone else who does. Just don’t go too wildly, melodramatically overboard.

Ultimately I say, don’t be afraid to use said. Don’t shy away from shouted or shot. Don’t

abolish bellowing, bristling, or braying. There’s nothing wrong with well-placed and

colourful dialogue tags any more than there is with well-placed and colourful similes,

epithets, and sensory words. Use the same discretion you’d use anywhere else in your

work…and just watch out for those tempting adverbs.


Just the Tip: The Erotic Poetry of C.C. Genovese with my review




Just the Tip: The Erotic Poetry of C.C. Genovese










What an awesome book of poetry. If you are a lover of erotic poetry then this is one for you. These poems are HOT! They have humor and lot’s of sexiness. Each one a winner in their own right. I never really was a fan of poetry until I started reading this author’s. So far there isn’t anything he has written that I haven’t liked.

The Jock and the Fat Chick by Nicole Winters


The Jock and the Fat Chick


Nicole Winters

Debut Romance Novel  *  250 pages  *  HarperCollins


YA / NA. Mild swearing. No explicit sex.

Buy Links:






Barnes and Nobel



No one ever said high school was easy. In this hilarious and heartwarming debut, one high school

senior has to ask himself how much he’s willing to give up in order to fit in.

Kevin seems to have it all: he’s popular, good looking, and on his way to scoring a college hockey

scholarship. However, he’s keeping two big secrets. The first is that he failed an assignment and is

now forced to take the most embarrassing course ever–domestic tech. The second is that he is

falling for his domestic tech classmate, Claire.

As far as Kevin is concerned, Claire does have it all: she’s funny, smart, beautiful, and confident. But

she’s off-limits. Because Kevin knows what happens when someone in his group dares to date a girl

who isn’t a cheerleader, and there’s no way he is going to put himself—or Claire—through that.

But steering clear of the girl of his dreams is a lot harder than Kevin thought…especially when a

cooking project they are paired together for provides the perfect opportunity for things to heat up

between them outside the classroom….


I raise an eyebrow, letting her know I’m listening, but I’m not sure where she’s going with


“I tell you what to do and say around Mrs. A, and that way I keep my A and you can pass this


I consider Claire’s offer. On the one hand, I don’t like her calling me a dumb jock. On the

other, she’s amazingly good at cooking and needs to keep her grades high, which means if I do what

she says, I’ll pass too. I’ve got nothing to lose, so I nod.

“Okay,” I say.

She gives me this big warm smile, like I’ve made her day.

“Good.” She motions to the fish. “Keep flaking.”

I respond with a “Yes, Coach,” as a lighthearted way of sealing our deal.

When I’m done flaking, Claire adds the fish to the thick rice mixture and then stirs, making

my mouth water. It looks and smells incredible. There must be a million grams of carbs in there. If I

ate all that, I’d slip into a carb coma.

Claire pulls a large wooden spoon from the drawer and then offers it to me. “Want to


She’s surprised when I shake my head, like I have no clue what I’ve turned down.

“Ugh,” she says. “Don’t tell me you’re one of those carb-counting gym rats.”

I make a face. “I hate the term ‘gym rat’; it makes me sound greasy.”

“True.” Claire sizes me up and then adds, “And you’re definitely not greasy.”

Hey, did she just check me out?

“Okay, how’s ‘don’t tell me you’re one of those carb-counting fitness bunnies’?”

I grunt, amused.

“I bet you work out twice a day,” she goes on, stirring the risotto, “and you eat nothing but

skinless chicken and steamed broccoli.”

I shrug.

She bobs her head, like she’s confirming something. “Yeah, you look like a guy who denies

himself pleasure….”

An unexpected rush of heat spreads across my face. “Well, if you want six-pack abs, there’s

got to be sacrifices.”

Claire glances at my stomach, and even though she can’t see anything under my shirt and

apron, she turns her gaze away and smiles, big.

That was definitely a check-me-out move.


Author Bio:

Nicole Winters:

Born into a literary family.

Could write before speaking.

Spent childhood in sunshiny green meadows devouring highbrow literary works.


More like she was told that C-average, learning disabled students couldn’t possibly grow up to be


Nicole proved them wrong.







English B.A. from the University of Toronto. Loves cats, books, horror films, globe hopping and

home-baked cookies. Had once been spotted wearing a sundress.

Cool dudes and motorcycles: TT Full Throttle

Hot guys and romance: The Jock And The Fat Chick

Nicole is currently at work on her third book involving magic called, The Conjurer.

Social Media Links:


Twitter: @nicolewintersya

Facebook: The Jock and the Fat Chick

Facebook: Nicole Author Page

1. No fancy-pants education required.

I was self-taught. I might have a B.A. in English, but they certainly didn’t teach me the mechanics of

storytelling. That was my own doing and here’s how I did it: I read how-to books (like Syd Field’s


WRITER’S JOURNEY), analyzed stories and movies and wrote a short film which was produced by

Hart House’s New Filmmaker’s Club. From there, I wrote a feature film with my friend, Stephen

Geigen-Miller, just to see if we could do it. We decided to use pre-existing characters so that we could

concentrate on story structure. Our movie was called MUPPETS: MISSION IMPROBABLE. (And yes,

we still think it’s the greatest Muppet movie never made.)

My point is, if you want to write stories, don’t let a certificate, diploma or a degree stop you. All it takes

is passion, research and effort.

2. Don’t give the first draft power over you.

I call my first draft a “dawg’s breakfast” because that way, it doesn’t get the best of me. I’ve known

some writers who want to perfect everything on their first try. Any obstacle that gets in their way halts

their progress until they’re so overwhelmed and exhausted, they give up. (As an aside, I’ve heard

stories of people workshopping their first chapter, rewriting it and then signing up for another class to

workshop the same chapter and rewriting it (and rinse and repeat) only to never get it finished.

If I don’t know the technical word for something in my story, I put ‘TK’ and move on. ‘TK’ is my

shorthand for ‘technical and I’ll get back to it later’. If I come up with an idea for a scene but I don’t

know all the details except for where I want my character to be when it’s over, I’ll jot down a rough

sketch and move on. The idea is to keep the flow going, to mess around on the page, try things, take

chances, make mistakes. It’s all good. This is the time for pure creative thought, no editors or critics

allowed. Don’t turn it into work until it has to be; that’s what the other four to five drafts are for.

You’ve heard the phrase ‘Birds of a feather will flock together’? It’s true. Make sure you leave the

house once in a while and seek out the company of other writers. It’s a great way to share ideas and

exchange knowledge about the craft and the business. Try starting your own writers group. Ours is

called Nachos and Narratives, because who doesn’t like nachos? (If you do call your group by the

same name, please let me know so we can raise a nacho chip in your honor.)

Writers are just good people. They’re some of the nicest, funniest, most generous folks I know.


Calm Assurance by Dariel Raye


“Calm Assurance”


Barnes and Noble:

Two hearts, two different worlds, uncompromising love.

A straight-laced Nephilim-descendant and a human trouble-magnet?

When Asriel – Orlosian Warrior, descendant of Nephilim, law enforcer – is sent to guard Malina, a human with a penchant for drawing trouble like a tornado, she becomes his obsession.

With no hope of finding love in his dimension, he breaks the cardinal rule, leaving his home to protect her, but she has also drawn the attention of his enemies, and he is forced to face demons from his past. If Asriel chooses to stay with Malina, not only does he risk forfeiting his right to ever return to his dimension, but he will need her blood to survive.




The Lie by Bethany Mills and Carmen Love




Catch up on The Lie before the release of

The Betrayal book 2

#BethanyMills #CarmenLove

Amazon US

Amazon UK






Summary for The Betrayal

Paul Matthew’s life is good or so he believes. His business is flourishing, including his books, and he has the woman of his dreams on his arm. He trusts Jeanette completely and falls more in love with her each passing day. He’s given up all other women and is completely devoted to Jeanette.

Jeanette Jenkins didn’t expect to fall in love, but she did. When she found out Paul was living a lie, her first thought was to leave, but curiosity along with revenge fueled her to stay. Now after placing herself in his secret world she feels conflicted on her feelings for him or could she like the secret life of him more. Will their love stand or does the betrayal go too deep?


Number 69 by Casey Sheridan with giveaway



Casey Sheridan

Buy links

Amazon US:

Amazon UK:


Barnes & Noble:




A matchmaking party was not Melodie’s idea of fun, and wearing vibrating panties was just plain weird. Or was it? Should she go to the party? After all, she just might meet Mr. Right. And if he doesn’t show, she has the vibrating panties to keep things interesting.


Chapter One

“I wonder what this is,” Melodie said as she bent and picked up a cream-colored vellum
envelope with her name and address written across the front in elegant calligraphy.
She followed her cat, Cecil, as he silently padded across the ceramic tile floor into the
sun-filled kitchen. The orange tabby jumped onto one of the cushioned stools where he made
himself comfortable, then peered with bright green eyes over the edge of the tabletop. Melodie
set yesterday’s mail on the tall bistro-style table except for the mysterious envelope.
It looked like an invitation. She raised a brow and turned the envelope over. No return
address anywhere. Before she could open the envelope, a loud and persistent knock sounded at
her back door. It had to be Trudy. No one else would knock so vehemently at this early hour on a
Saturday morning. Melodie rolled her eyes and opened door.
Trudy whirled into the room like a pint-sized tornado, causing Cecil to jump from the
stool and run down the hall.
“What’s up with him?” Trudy asked as the cat disappeared around a corner.
Melodie smiled at her friend’s lack of self-awareness. “He’s running for cover.” Trudy
gave her a puzzled look, shrugged, and took the seat vacated by Cecil. She placed her elbows on
the table and rested her chin in her hands, eyeing the envelope Melodie held. “So, get anything
interesting in the mail?” Melodie’s stomach knotted. She had been friends with Trudy for a long, long time. Long
enough to recognize the knot of dread in her stomach meant that Trudy was up to something.
She narrowed her eyes. “Why yes, as a matter of fact, I did.” She dangled the envelope
before her friend’s face. “Would you care to explain what this is before I open it?”
Trudy sat ramrod straight trying to act indignant. “No. I have no idea what you’re talking
about.” “Uh-huh. That’s a crock of shit. I can’t even imagine what you’re getting me into.”
Melodie tore the envelope open and pulled out the card. Her eyes widened as she read the
elegant script lettering. “It’s an invitation to a party being held in the Diamond Room at the
Crystal Hotel.” Trudy squealed and clasped her hands together. “How exciting! The Crystal Hotel? How
fancy. You’ll need to buy a new dress. You can’t go to a party at an upscale hotel in one of those
house mouse dresses you wear that hangs down to your ankles.”
Melodie set the invitation on the table and drummed her fingers on the crisp paper, her
back straight and rigid as she glared at her friend. “What is that remark supposed to mean?”
Trudy shrugged nonchalantly. “You know what it means. You wear long, billowy skirts
or polyester pants and shirts buttoned up to your chin. Just because you work in a library doesn’t
mean you have to look like my great-aunt Gertrude.”
Melodie gasped. “What? I do not look like your great-aunt!”
Trudy laughed and reclined in her chair. “Oh please! You’re getting there, Melodie. Right
down to the cotton granny panties, antique-looking support bra, and orthopedic shoes. You even
wear your hair in a bun!”
Melodie squared her shoulders and lifted her chin. “I don’t wear orthopedic shoes. I dress
practical, that’s all. I need to because I deal with the public and sometimes with children. I’m a
librarian, and I’m expected to look like one.”
“I’m sorry, Melodie. I don’t mean to hurt your feelings, but a person can be sexy and
sensible. You’re just sensible. You have the potential to be sexy, but you squash it. I don’t
understand why. Besides, you’re going to want to be sexy for this party. Trust me.”
Melodie picked up the invitation and read it again before turning to her friend. “So you’re
saying I’m going to want to dress sexy for this party, huh? Tell me the truth, Trudy. What do you
know about this invitation?”
Trudy folded her hands on the table in front of her, looking down at them to avoid
Melodie’s gaze. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. What makes you think I know
anything about it?”
Melodie perched on the edge of a stool, slid the card across the table closer to Trudy, and
tapped the invitation. “You gave yourself away not two seconds ago. I’m supposed to trust you,
remember? I can’t trust you if you’re going to lie.” She pointed at the last line of script. “It says
here to RSVP by the ninth, so I can be sure to receive my ‘vibrating panties’ in time for the
At least Trudy had the decency to look guilty.

“Vibrating panties? What have you done? You had better tell me the truth this time,
Trudy.” Her friend slumped and sighed in resignation. “Well, you know Stephanie? About a year
ago, she met this super great guy. He’s some kind of engineer or something. Anyway, she met
him at one of these parties. They hit it off right away and have been seeing one another pretty
seriously ever since.”
“Okay. So? What am I doing with an invitation? What do Stephanie and her man have to
do with me?” “The party is only held once a year. It’s very exclusive and for singles only. You get a
referral from someone who has been to one of the parties. Soon after, you get an application. If
you pass their qualifications and check out okay, then you get an invitation. If you don’t pass,
you don’t get invited.”
Melodie narrowed her eyes and again drummed her fingers on the table. “I’ve never
heard of this party, and I know I didn’t fill out any application.”
Trudy started to fidget in her seat and wring her hands. “You got a referral from
Stephanie, and I filled out the application for you.”
“I knew it!” Melodie shot off her chair. “I knew you had something to do with this. Why?
Why did you do this? Why are you always doing this to me? What have I ever done to you?
Vibrating panties, of all things. What kind of party is this?”
Trudy cringed. “Well…”
“That bad? Is it that bad? What have you gotten me into?”
“Melodie, please! It’s not bad. I promise. I did this with the best of intentions.”
Melodie shook her head and rolled her eyes as she folded her arms across her chest. “I’m
not going to any party with vibrating panties. That’s just plain weird.”
“I’m sorry I did this without asking you first or telling you about it, but I knew you would
act this way.” “Humph! How else would I act? Vibrating panties! I don’t understand why you did this.”
Trudy took a deep breath then let it out in a rush. “I worry about you. You haven’t been
out with a man since-since Paul! I know he hurt you, but you’ve had so much time to get over
him. All you do is work and read those damn romance novels.” Trudy’s gaze raked over
Melodie, and her lip curled. “Besides, right now you’re dressed exactly like my grandmother. No
man is going to find that attractive unless he’s eighty. You need help, a little boost in your self-
confidence, and this party will do just that. It’ll be fun.”
Melodie’s arms fell to her sides, her jaw dropping open. “What do you mean I’m dressed
like your grandmother? I am not!”
“Oh really?” Trudy hopped off her stool, strode around the table, and grabbed Melodie
gruffly by the hand. She pulled her through the house like a mother with a naughty child.
They entered the brightly lit master bath. Trudy placed her before the full-length mirror
and stood behind her. “Meet Grandma.”
Melodie’s green eyes stared at her reflection. Slouching white socks and purple fuzzy
slippers covered her feet. She wore dark-green flannel pants that fell to mid calf, no makeup, her
dark auburn hair in rollers, and a floral housecoat.
She brought her fingers to her lips. “Oh, dear God. You’re right. I’m my grandmother.”
“First things first. This is your Saturday off, right?” At Melodie’s nod, Trudy continued.
“We’ll go shopping. Buy some new sexy things.”
“I can’t dress like that for work. What will Mr. Grimes say?”
Trudy stepped closer and captured Melodie’s gaze in the mirror. “You don’t have to dress
like a grandmother for work either. Besides, Tad Grimes is a nice-looking, single man. What can
he say? It wouldn’t hurt to attract his attention.”
Melodie took a deep breath, her eyebrows arching up. “I’m not so sure I want to attract
any more of his attention.”
“Why not? He’s a hottie and charming. He has a cute ass too.”
She gave her friend a skeptical look. “I guess.”
She had to admit Trudy was right about Mr. Grimes. He was a nice-looking man, but he
gave her the creeps, but then again, maybe she was just being oversensitive.
“Look, Melodie. We’ll start by buying you new underwear. If you wear sexy things,
you’ll feel like a sexy thing.” Trudy pressed herself against Melodie’s back, reached around and
cupped Melodie’s large, unbound breasts. “If I had tits this gorgeous, I’d walk around topless.
Now get dressed so we can get started. I’m buying breakfast.”

All Funds to Charity in October
The 16th of October is National Feral Cat Day. It was started by Alley Cat Allies (
fifteen years ago. As someone who helps care for feral/community cats, I’ve always wanted to do more for them,
so this year I’m celebrating #NationalFeralCatDay all month long.
How am I going to help all those four-legged, furry kitty-cats? All royalties from the sale of any
of my books during the month (Oct 1-31, 2015) will be donated to Alley Cat Allies to help with
their Trap-Neuter-Release program, a program that helps feral cats lead healthier lives and it’s a
humane way of controlling population. You can learn more about feral cats and Trap-Neuter-Release on Alley Cat Allies website at And, please, don’t forget, the cats (and dogs) at your local animal shelter would love

to have you volunteer.

Donate here:



Like most authors, Casey Sheridan began writing when she was very young. It was later in life

when she read her first piece of erotica and it was on a dare that she wrote her first erotic story.

Casey enjoys writing steamy fiction that is sensual, erotic, and fun with unique storylines.

An introvert and lover of chocolate, Casey is happiest when writing. She enjoys spending time

with close friends, listening to music, watching movies, and reading. She loves animals and

volunteers to care for a local feral/community kitty pals.

Add your name to Casey’s mailing list to be kept up to date on her latest news and releases:

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Reading and Writing

“If you want to be a writer, you must do two things above all others: read a lot and write a lot.
There’s no way around these two things that I’m aware of, no shortcut.”
― Stephen King, On Writing: A Memoir of the Craft
I once read an article (don’t remember where or who wrote it) by an author that stated she
liked writing, but she hated to read. I thought maybe she hated to read her own writing, but
no, that wasn’t it. She hated to read anything. Period.
As a reader, I don’t understand the concept of not liking to read. I’ve loved reading for as long
as I can remember. As a kid, I’d sit and read the cereal box instead of watching Saturday
morning cartoons unless Scooby Doo was on because, after all, it was Scooby Doo. You can’t
not watch Scooby. What’s wrong with you? lol
As a writer, the concept of not liking to read is alien to me. Most authors I know are
voracious readers. I learn so much about writing, about my own writing, from reading others
work. I can give you an example: In her Lords of the Underworld series, Gena Showalter can
switch from one character’s point of view to another character’s point of view in mid-scene.
She does it so seamlessly and so perfectly. I’m never confused as to whose point of view I’m
in. Many other authors (not all) try to do this and they fumble. I’m immediately lost. I went
back and studied how Mrs. Showalter did it. It’s so simple, but you need to do it right. I’ve
done it and so far I haven’t had any complaints, so I must have done it right.
In order to do something well, you need to practice. Writing is no different. If you want to
write well, you can take courses to help you, you can learn your craft, but if you don’t
practice, if you don’t actually sit down and write, how good will you be?
The same goes for reading. You may not have to practice reading, but reading enhances your
writing, it gets your imagination flowing, it gives you a lesson on how to do something, or
not do something. It enriches your life and opens you up to new worlds and ideas.
Pick up a book and start reading. Do it slowly. Read just a few pages to start off. You don’t
need to tear through a book in one sitting. No one says you have to read fast. I’m not a fast
reader or writer and that’s fine with me. Go at your own pace and enjoy the experience.
Thank you for stopping by to read my post. I hope you enjoyed it.
For those of you that don’t know, when you purchase any of my books during the month of
October, you’ll be helping kitties. As someone who cares for feral/outdoor kitties, I’ve
decided to donate all my book royalties for the month to Alley Cat Allies
( in a month long celebration of National Feral Cat Day which is on
October 16th. So, buy a book and let’s help kitties live healthier lives!



The Chemist’s Shop by Richard Brumet

The Book Mistress Tours Presents


The Chemist’s Shop
Richard Brumer
Stand Alone or Series: ​Stand Alone
Length of Book: ​Approx 68,000 words/ 300 pages
Genre: ​​​Suspense thriller wrapped around a tender love story.
Buy Links: ​​
Limitless Publishing:

Barnes and Noble: Pic - Richard BrumerAuthor Bio:

  1. Richard Brumer grew up in the Bronx and now lives in Florida with his wife Carol. For many years his passions were skiing, sports car racing, and sailing, including sailing solo in the South Pacific. As a retired pharmacist, he turned his hand to writing and has written several novels and short stories.
    Information about his work can be seen on his website:
    Social Media Links: ​Facebook:​
    Website: ​
    Twitter: ​@rxrich

First they came for the Socialists, and I did not speak out…
Because I was not a Socialist.
Then they came for the Trade Unionists, and I did not speak out…
Because I was not a Trade Unionist.
Then they came for the Jews, and I did not speak out…
Because I was not a Jew.
Then they came for me…and there was no one left to speak for me.
—Martin Niemoller, Protestant pastor
The Chemist’s Shop, a novel by RICHARD BRUMER. It is a gripping psychological suspense thriller wrapped around a tender love story.
Pharmacology professor Michael Ross retires from the world of academia in 1970 and opens a community pharmacy in a peaceful upstate New York town. He puts the horrific tragedies of his past behind him and finds serenity in his new life. That is, until he recognizes a customer as former Nazi SS officer, Hans Stern.
Michael looks into Stern’s cold steel-blue eyes, clenches his fists and boils inside, remembering how his three young daughters were taken from him and gassed, and his wife, Ilona, was tortured, raped and stripped of all dignity by Stern, twenty-five years earlier in Auschwitz.
Face to face with this evil being, Michael forces himself to stay calm. In that moment, he experiences two opposing but related feelings. One is anger, the other exhilaration.
Michael could not protect his family then, but he can avenge their deaths now. It isn’t just about killing Stern. That would be too easy. His death has to be slow, painful, and diabolical, and it begins with a game of chess.
Available online from Barnes and Noble, Amazon, Goodreads, and in Palm Beach County, FL public libraries
I’m sorry I wasn’t able to be with you for the past few days. The court case consumes me but being in jail doesn’t take me away from you, When I lost you and later learned you were in Paradise, I felt cursed by the distance between us. But now I feel blessed that I can enjoy the finer parts of our love that others with the privilege of nearness fail to notice.
Our minds and hearts are joined for all eternity, a gift perhaps few can share. Thank you so much for loving me and being my wife.

Miklos and Ilona protected their daughters from worry and harm so they could live in their sweet world of innocence. He was delighted to see his girls play dress-up as they danced around the house, like little ballerinas, to the music of Swan Lake. Little Eva was the best dancer of them all.
“Go, go, Eva,” he shouted and clapped with his hands over his head.
She turned and spun, like a prima ballerina, the star of the show. She had her own graceful style and expressed her emotions with her small, delicate hands, dancing and turning, with her arms arched above her. In his mind’s eye, Miklos saw her grown-up, in her ballet costume, on point and on stage.
The twins skipped and danced until they were breathless. They were all dressed up and fancy, painted with their mother’s makeup and wearing colorful outfits sewn together by Ilona from scraps of material. Roza and Magda had their own sense of grace. They lived in the moment, their moment, as they twirled their young bodies, attempted pirouettes, and leaped into the air.

Ilona turned toward Miklos and whispered in his ear, “When the girls are finished dancing, remind me to tell you something.”
“Tell me now.”
“No, it’s a surprise for the whole family.”
Magda’s excited cries interrupted them. “Look at me, look at me!” She skipped barefoot along the hardwood floor, spinning, turning and bowing to her audience.
“Wonderful!” Miklos shouted as he clapped in rhythm to the music.
“Look at me, too,” Roza yelled as she jumped up and down on the sofa.
Then little Eva caught her breath and performed her solo. “Look at me, Papa. I’m the swan queen.”
She twirled her young body around until she was dizzy, but continued to dazzle her audience. At the end of her dance, her black curls were wet with perspiration and she bowed to everyone as they applauded. Her eyes widened and sparkled when Miklos presented her with a red rose he had taken from Ilona’s birthday bouquet.
“Oh, Papa, thank you!” she said, taking in the delicate scent of the rose.
“You’re welcome, Eva. Every ballerina should have flowers when she takes her bows at the end of her performance.”
Miklos squeezed his wife’s hand. “Did you ever think that when our girls were born, they would provide us with so much entertainment?”
“Never,” Ilona said with tears of delight. “We were given a gift, a wonderful present,” she said, her dark-brown eyes glistening.
“We’re blessed,” he said with a deep sigh, but his thoughts were troubled.
“Will we be all right, Miklos?” Ilona asked. “I’m worried about the girls. They’re so young, just babies.”
“Everything will go well. I was a professor. The Nazis will show respect and find some use for me. We will be safe, Ilona. I promise you.”
Little Eva was out of breath. She sat on the couch, her chest heaving in and out, but Roza and Magda continued to dance with the little energy they had left. They loved each other in a special way, as twins do, but had distinctive personalities. Magda was a bit of a complainer, but good-natured. At the dinner table, she would scrutinize the food carefully and either eat it or give it a “yuck.” Her dream was to be a singer, and she constantly hummed and whistled her tunes. Roza was the resident introvert. She read books and loved to write poetry. She was sensitive, like her mother. Miklos thought that when his girls grew up, they would be a gift to the artistic world. They had so much ahead of them and were lucky to be at the beginning of their lives. The dancing and music continued. Everything will work out all right. He and Ilona continued to be an enthusiastic audience. They clapped and sang through their daughters performances.
The sound of marching boots and loud banging on the door brought the festivities to a halt.

I’m Richard Brumer, an 85 year old author. Most young people today know nothing about the Holocaust. Some say it never happened. It is inconceivable to imagine that in a civilized society humans could kill so many millions of innocent people for one reason only–because they were Jews Even animals kill only for food–not out of hatred. As a boy I was jealous of my friends who felt the care and love of their grandparents. Mine were murdered in Auschwitz. I was only a young boy during the war and lived in the United States but I thought about those times and wanted to write a novel that dealt with the Holocaust but also wanted it to include a love story. It’s called The Chemist’s Shop

I began my writing career three years ago. My first novel, Meeting Max was a learning experience like no other. I made a good choice when I joined a writer’s group. They tore my novel apart (gently) but I learned the basics of writing. Then I wrote another book called The Last Sunrise. It’s about a man who searches for one last adventure before he reaches the end of his days I like fiction because it gives me more freedom. I still have to do research but with fiction I can use my imagination and lie a lot (smile)

Let my main character in the Chemist’s Shop tell you what it’s about:

My name is Miklos Rosen and I was born in Hungary in 1910. I met the love of my life, Ilona, a country girl when we were both twelve. We married in 1930 during the time Hitler came to power. We had three daughters, twins, Magda, Rosa, both eight and little Eva, age five all with the promise of having successful dreams for their future in the world of music, dance and literature. The sound of marching boots and loud banging on the door put an end to their young lives in concentration camp. Later, Ilona found her freedom in Auschwitz by leaping into an electrified fence. I survived the camp, immigrated to America where I anglicized my name to Michael, met the SS officer, Hans Stern who was responsible for the deaths of my family and sought revenge.

I could not protect my family in concentration camp but could avenge their deaths now. It wasn’t about killing Stern. That would be too easy. His death has to be slow, painful, and diabolical. and it began with a game of chess.

My advice to new writers would be to start writing a story from your imagination but know how it’s going to end. Always try to include a love story. Then join a writer’s group. Oh, one other thing—write every day and keep writing—don’t edit your work until your story is written. Trust me, if you keep writing good things will happen. Never give up!

Link to book:

Twitter: @rxrich



Touch The Dark Blog Tour with giveaway



TOUCH Final Med

Take the tour and meet some of today’s bestselling authors who write provocative, sensual romances with heroes and

heroines who aren’t afraid to “touch the dark”.

“Touch The Dark”

An Anthology of Interracial Fantasy, Sci-Fi, & Paranormal Romances



Angel Rising_th

LaVerne Thompson – “Angel Rising – Redemption”

To walk the earth she must feed her hollow soul.


Some of the most beautiful people in the world are not human. They have no soul, feel no emotion and are pure evil. You can

tell by the color of their dark, dead eyes. Samuel Glaus knows this. He is the son of a human mother and soulless father. He is

after all half human and a hunter of the soulless. He is also in love with one who cannot love him back.

Thalya is a soulless creature, but unlike others of her kind, she does not kill to feed her hollow soul. She hungers only for

emotion and above all, she hungers for Samuel’s love. Her enemy. Her redemption. And she’s willing to kill for it.

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Ursula Sinclair – “Shadow Wars Homebound”

We don’t belong here.


Did you ever feel as though you don’t belong?

Veil had been a step out of place all his life. Until one day he found a phone that took him on a path far beyond the world he

knew. But to get all the answers he had to save the princess he fell in love with – only to lose her once he made her a queen.

Nikki never felt she quite belonged. Until she met a man who saved her life and placed her on a throne she never knew was

hers. But in order to be queen and save a world at war, she had to give up Veil.

Would you walk away from the love of a lifetime if you could prevent the destruction of a planet?

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L. Penelope – “Angelborn”

He gave up eternity for love… and lost



It’s hard to be normal when you see the dead everywhere. So I gave up. I just focus on staying out of their way. But the guy

haunting my roommate is different. He’s impossible to ignore, and now other people can see him too.He says my roommate is

the only one who can save him from an eternity of torment. But one night he follows me into my nightmare and rescues me

from my demons. Now he’s all I think about. This must be what it’s like to fall… for someone who can never be mine.


A lifetime ago, I found my soulmate in the human world. But being angelborn means I don’t have a soul. When I lost my one true

love, I lost my future and my freedom. Now, I have a second chance – she’s been reborn and I must gain her love again or serve

out the rest of my eternal sentence alone.But this time I am a fugitive with powerful angels hunting me, and I’m running out of

time. You only get one soulmate, and mine isn’t the broken, scarred girl, who sees what no one else can. She’s a distraction I can

scarcely afford – but I’m unable to stay away from her.

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Spirited Away_th

Ines Johnson – “Spirited Away”

Shanti never expected the trip to find herself would lead her out of this world.


While on a mission to ‘find herself’ at an Indian ashram, Shanti Rodriguez is abducted by a pair of alien brothers who sweep her

off her feet, and then the planet.

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Lolah Lace – “Hunters Hit List”

Hunt or be hunted.


Someone has a vendetta against vampire hunters. Famed vampire hunter Scar Buckley finds herself entangled in the center of a

battle between vampires and hunters. She is determined to fight for her life. She needs help from the infamous Fox brothers to

ensure she lives to see another day. Scar finds herself in a steamy romance she never saw coming while her ex-boyfriend stalks

her. Will she live to see another day or die in the hands of her vampire enemy?

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A Kiss os Ashen Twilight_th

Rae Lori – “A Kiss of Ashen Twilight (Book 1 in the Ashen Twilight Series)”

Worlds collide when a Nightwalker Prince and a Aziza Fae fall in love.


Ariya, an Aziza Faerie, crosses into the mortal realm to escape a vicious and deadly elemental creature. She discovers an

underground world of Nightwalkers, Lycans and Shifter Elves hiding beneath human’s eyes. When she falls for the Nightwalker

Regent Prince Jace Archane, love and loyalties are tested as an age-old rivalry unmasks a new enemy.

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With Friends Like These_th

Stephanie Williams – “With Friends Like These”

With friends like these…who needs sex toys!


A reluctant Heir Apparent, a reluctant soul-mate and an all too eager BFF, bring lightheartedness and HOT LOVIN’ to this story of

love, and finding oneself. Drake and Seth are not your normal neighbors. In fact, they’re not normal period! But neither is

Roxanne Watson, their neighbor and soul mate.

The problem is convincing her to be their one and only, and oh yeah, come into their world of vampires and

werewolves.Roxanne is special, but Drake and Seth are having a hard time to get her to see things their way. Even with the help

of her crazy psychic friend, things are not staying on track.Roxanne wants to commit all her friends to the asylum. They’re all

crazy! But as time goes on, she begins to doubt her own sanity.

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Birth_A First Blood Novel_th

Krystell Lake – “Birth (A First Blood Novel)”

Everlasting life comes with a price…her freedom.


Before the unrest of the Civil War, a young slave girl falls in love with her Master’s son. Emerald is enamored with the liberal

young John Adams. After the war Emerald and John create a warm life for themselves. A life that is free from segregation and

discrimination. Their serene life is turned upside down when John is nearly killed on a hunting trip with his older brother

William. John and William learn that they were infected with vam pox. They are now immortal vampires with an undying thirst

for blood.With this curse, John vows to preserve his human bloodline, therefore preserving his humanity. With this gift, William

embraces vampirism and the power it commands. Being a vampire doesn’t change the brother’s emotions. It magnifies them. As

a vampire William is still envious of his younger brother John. John has everything William craves, his human family and his

beloved Emerald. William will do anything and stop at nothing to get what he wants. Vampire William always gets what he


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Silent Screams_th

Yvonne Nicolas – “Silent Screams ~ Book 1 of the Dragon Queen Series”

Torn between darkness and light, can Rayne save mankind from evil?


R&B sensation, Sharayna “Rayne” Piers, lives her life dedicated to her music. On stage and in the studio, she pours her

heart and soul into the lyrics of her songs, hoping to deliver a piece of herself to the listeners. But ever since her twentieth

birthday, her seemingly normal life has taken a turn to the dark side.

Piercing screams and horrendous acts of murder seizes her mind, haunting her night and day. Women similar to her in age are

vanishing all over the world without a trace. It leaves Rayne wondering if the rash of disappearances is connected to her visions.

Soon, she will discover the world she was raised in is just a cover for what really hides in the shadows, and that her life as a

human is a deception to mankind, a guise to conceal her true nature. Will she shun the darkness that has befallen her or step up

to the throne and become what she was created to be?

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Passion Unleashed

Serenity King – “Passion Unleashed: Nylora’s Fate”

Unleashed passion has led Nylora to a fate unknown.


Caught between Fate and Passion, Nylora finds herself trapped in a world of the unknown. Her best friend, Uta Thurmaine,

warned her to stay away from Max’s bar, but she doesn’t heed her words. Will Nylora’s encounters change the course of her life

forever? Or will Passion and fate collide, thrusting her into the point of no return? In the wake of a blood feud within the family,

Costin Riszen has watched over the human – Nylora – for some time now. When Nylora disappears into the night, it will take all

Costin possesses to find her and keep her safe – even if it means binding her to him forever to do so.

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Bria Knight – “The Alphas & Olivia”

Two males one female, what’s a werewolf to do?


It happened, just as she was leaving work…Olivia Todd wanted nothing more than to drive home to her cabin in the woods after

a hard day’s work. But after she encountered a brawny “creature” that had other plans for her, the curvaceous nurse’s

uneventful life would never be the same.

He sank his teeth into her flesh…At first Olivia thought it was a dog bite. But that night, when her body became a boiling pot of

lust and her thirst for release could not be quenched on her own, she began to wonder. Just what happened to her? Where did

these animalistic urges and heated craving for sex—hard, fast, and rocking—come from?

A visit from detective Callan Goldstein gave her some answers, but left her body craving more than he could give her.

Encountering Alaric Bridgewater changed all that…When Olivia came face to face with that thing…that being who’d claimed

her…transformed her…she knew she must have Alaric in her bed. But she wanted his good friend Callan too.

With two tempting males there for the taking, what’s a newly formed werewolf to do?

This ménage romance is part one of a series. It contains STRONG, SEXUAL CONTENT and is intended for ADULT

READERS ONLY (18 years and over).

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Dark Sentinel_Sable_th

Dariel Raye – “Dark Sentinels Book One: Sable”

Sexy wolf-shifter, passionate veterinarian, deadly enemy.


Dark Sentinels – Book One: Sable Sable, a sentinel wolf shifter, is captured and locked in his wolf form until Akila, a veterinarian,

tries to tame him and unleashes a 6’5″ baby blue-eyed surprise.

Dr. Akila Marshall is a veterinarian with a calling – save as many stray animals as possible. The only child of wealthy, yet distant

parents, she’s convinced that love is not for her. Until…

Sable’s search for his twin sister leads him to Akila. Born into a rare species of wolf shifters whose main purpose is protecting

others, he has always been forced to fend for himself, but Akila’s loving, protective nature draws him – and not a moment too

soon. Together, they must learn to trust each other enough to overcome a new, deadly enemy.

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