Posted in #Book, #Giveaway, Adult, Author, blog, Book, Fiction, Giveaway, Mystery, Paranormal Suspense, Silver Dagger Scriptorium Tours, Story, Tour, Writer

A Stone’s Throw by Debbie De Louise – Book Tour + #Giveaway


A Stone’s Throw
Cobble Cove Mysteries Book 1
by Debbie De Louise
Genre: Cozy Mystery, Romantic Suspense
Widowed librarian Alicia Fairmont needs answers…
After her husband is killed in a hit and run accident, Alicia travels
upstate to his hometown of Cobble Cove, New York, hoping to locate
his estranged family and shed light on his mysterious past.
Anticipating staying only a weekend, her visit is extended when she
accepts a job at the town’s library.
Secrets stretch decades into the past… Assisted by handsome newspaper
publisher and aspiring novelist, John McKinney, Alicia discovers a
connection between her absent in-laws and a secret John’s father
has kept for over sixty years. But her investigation is interrupted
when she receives word her house has burned and arson is suspected,
sending her rushing back to Long Island, accompanied by John.
Back in Cobble Cove, cryptic clues are uncovered…
When Alicia returns, she finds a strange diary, confiscated letters, and a
digital audio device containing a recording made the day her husband
was killed. Anonymous notes warn Alicia to leave town, but she can’t
turn her back on the mystery—or her attraction to John. As the
pieces begin to fall into place, evidence points to John’s
involvement in her husband’s accident.
The past and present threaten to collide, and Alicia confronts her fears…
Has she fallen in love with her husband’s killer?
Between A Rock and a Hard Place
Cobble Cove Mysteries Book 2
Librarian Alicia McKinney has put the past behind her…
Two years ago, Alicia discovered both a terrible truth and lasting love
with John McKinney in the small town of Cobble Cove, New York. Now a
busy mother of twin babies and co-author of a mystery series, Alicia
couldn’t be happier.
Alicia’s contentment and safety are challenged…
Walking home alone from the library, Alicia senses someone following her, and
on more than one occasion, she believes she is being watched. Does
she have a stalker? When the local gift shop is burglarized, the
troubling event causes unrest among Alicia and the residents of the
quiet town.

John and Alicia receive an offer they can’t refuse…
When John’s sister offers to babysit while she and John take a
much-needed vacation in New York City, Alicia is reluctant to leave
her children because of the disturbances in Cobble Cove. John assures
her the town is safe in the hands of Sheriff-elect Ramsay. Although
Alicia’s experience with and dislike of the former Long Island
detective don’t alleviate her concern, she and John take their
Alicia faces her worst nightmare…
The McKinneys’ vacation is cut short when they learn their babies have
been kidnapped and John’s sister shot. Alicia and John’s
situation puts them between a rock and a hard place when the main
suspect is found dead before the ransom is paid. In order to save
their children, the McKinneys race against the clock to solve a
mystery more puzzling than those found in their own books. Can they
do it before time runs out?
Coming Soon!
Written In Stone
Cobble Cove Mysteries Book 3
Alicia McKinney is confused . . . .

Was the strange email her husband received from the fictional
detective in their mystery series a threat? Did the killer mistake
the woman shot in the library for Alicia or the victim’s twin

Cat vs. Dog . . .

After Sneaky goes missing from the library, will he turn up before a
young girl becomes ill with worry over his disappearance? And will
he return in time to outsmart Fido by being first to find the
perpetrator’s smoking gun?

Alicia is worried . . .

While waiting for the killer’s next move, Alicia has other concerns.
An old flame of John’s is in town and her friend, Gilly, has adopted
the role of Miss Marple to aid her sheriff boyfriend in his

When all clues point to one of her co-workers, Alicia joins Gilly in
searching for the answers to the mystery.

Will they survive . . .

or is their ending written in stone?
Debbie De Louise is an award-winning author and a reference librarian at a
public library on Long Island. She is a member of Sisters-in-Crime,
International Thriller Writers, and the Cat Writer’s Association.
She has a BA in English and an MLS in Library Science from Long
Island University. Her three published novels include Cloudy Rainbow,
A Stone’s Throw, and Between a Rock and a Hard Place (Solstice
Publishing, 2016) that has been on the Amazon bestseller list for
cozy mysteries. Debbie has also written articles and short stories
for several anthologies of various genres. Her third Cobble Cove
mystery, Written in Stone, will be published Spring, 2017. She lives
on Long Island with her husband, daughter, and two cats.
 stones throw banner
Posted in #Book, Adult, Author, blog, Book, Fiction, Paranormal Romance, Silver Dagger Scriptorium Tours, Story, Tour, Writer

The Ragnarok Prophecies By A.K. Morgen – Book T+ #Giveaway


The Ragnarok Prophecies Book 1
By A.K. Morgen
Genre: New Adult Paranormal Romance
What do you do when you realize nothing in your life is what you’ve
believed it to be?

When Arionna Jacobs loses her mother in a tragic accident, her world is
turned upside down. She’s forced to leave her old life behind and
move in with her father. Dace Matthews, a teaching assistant at her
new college, is torn in two, unable to communicate with the feral
wolf caged inside him.
When they meet, everything they thought
they knew about life unravels. Dace has intimate access to Arionna’s
mind, and something deep within her fights to rise to the surface.
They don’t understand what’s happening to them or why, and they’re
running out of time to sort out the strange occurrences around them.
Their meeting sets an ancient Norse prophesy of destruction
in motion, and what destiny has in store for them is bigger than
either could have ever imagined. Unless they learn to trust
themselves and one another, they may never resolve the mystery
surrounding who they are to one another, and what that means for the



I jumped as his voice sounded clear as bells in my head.


What are you doing? His mental voice was too calm. He’d heard my thoughts.


My face burned. I was trying to talk to you. I don’t exactly know how to do it, I answered, defensive and mortified. I didn’t mean to share those last thoughts with him, and like so much else, he received them anyway.


Again, it just wasn’t fair.


I guess it worked. He sounded amused, though his tone seemed darker than usual, like when he kissed me. I stored that knowledge away for future use.


I don’t know where Chelle lives.


You could have called.


Why? You never call me.


Would you like me to call you?


No. I had his attention now. Why bother with the phone? It didn’t make sense. Still, would it kill him to pick up the phone once in a while, like normal people did, instead of always leaving me to do the calling?


I’m not normal people, Arionna.


How could one boy be so clueless?


Oh, forget it. Where does Chelle live?


FADE is available from Curiosity Quills Press at Amazon
Add to your TBR list on Goodreads.
Ragnarok Prophecies Book 2
How do you save someone who doesn’t want to be saved?
Those called to stand guard against the end are broken, and Sköll and Hati
run free. Now Arionna Jacobs and Dace Matthews face a threat unlike
any before. Ragnarök is coming and they aren’t strong enough to stop
Arionna thought she understood sacrifice, but she never counted on her
destiny tearing Dace apart. Ever since she nearly died, he has been
consumed with guilt. Now it threatens to turn him into the monster he
always feared.
It’s up to Arionna to stop him before it’s too late, but the path to hell
is paved with good intentions, and Dace is hurtling toward
self-destruction. This time, Arionna isn’t sure she can save him from
himself. Can she convince him to let the past go, or is her true
destiny to sacrifice her heart in exchange for the lives of the
people she loves?

I stood alone in a shadowy cavern, my legs trembling.


Ancient torches flickered around me, so brittle they looked as if a single touch would destroy them. Massive boulders shot upward in the eerie, inky light, standing like endless mountains barring my way. My gaze bounced across round and jagged alike, trying to pick out where one ended and the others began. I couldn’t tell the difference, though.


My attention drifted and skittered around the cavern, focusing everywhere except on what waited for me beyond the thick fingers of solid earth standing like the bars of a prison ahead. Soft, ominous rumbles sounded from that direction, so deep the cavern floor vibrated beneath my feet.


Run, Arionna. Run.


I fought to listen to the voice of reason urging me to flee for my life, but I couldn’t seem to keep my legs locked in place. The compulsion to move, to look, to see, was too strong.


I took a step forward, then another, slipping through narrow cracks between one rock and the next.

The rough surface scraped against my arms and tugged at my hair, pulling small strands away from my scalp. I kept moving though, squeezing between narrow openings until the craggy ground gave way, ending suddenly at a frothy river.


I glanced across the foamy water.


My lungs stopped functioning.


The endless spread of boulders scattered all around were tiny pebbles compared to the solitary mass of earth on the far side of the underground channel. A chain wound around and through the mountainous rock, so thin it was almost invisible to the eye.


I ran my gaze across the shimmering links, checking to ensure the magic bond still held firm.


It did.


Air shuddered into my lungs.


Don’t be afraid. Don’t be afraid, I chanted to myself, but when I turned my head, my heart pounded uncomfortably anyway.


I bit my lip to keep from crying out when my gaze landed on the monstrous black wolf lunging against the tiny chain. Foam ran in buckets down his chest and into the river around him, as if his hatred cut a canyon of desiccation through the rock like a knife through butter. He towered over me, taller and wider than any wolf I’d ever seen. He was a giant. A Titan.




I shivered at the sound of his name echoing in my head.


He gnashed his razor-sharp teeth and roared, struggling against the chain binding him to earth. The sound echoed throughout the massive cavern, bouncing from rock to rock in the same deep, ominous rumble I heard earlier.


Pebbles showered down from overhead, falling to the dirt floor all around.


Fenrir shook them off, then tried to leap.


The chain stretched taut, groaning in protest, but it held firm.


Fenrir hit the ground―hard―and was up again in an instant.


He coiled, crouching as if preparing to spring again, then twitched.


He stilled, not even his chest moving when he drew breath. Sanity flickered in his gaze for a brief moment, burning away the obsessive rage pouring from him. What swept through those yellow eyes in its place was far worse: intelligence.


Fenrir knew his prison would not hold him forever. Eventually, he would break free.


Not today. Please, not today, I pleaded, hoping someone in charge heard me.


Fenrir sniffed the air.


I stopped breathing, praying he didn’t see me standing amongst the rocks.


He turned his head slowly in my direction, one ear twitching.


His rage-filled gaze met mine and held. Recognition flared in his baleful eyes.


I trembled, trapped in his sights like a prisoner, unable to move. The wolf sharing my soul snarled, trying to shake herself free of the thrall freezing me in place. She was too weak to do more than flutter and twist inside me though.


Fenrir’s lip curled in a menacing snarl as he looked into me, looked through me, and saw everything I was and everything connecting me to him. For a moment, no more than a split second really, he looked pleased. As if he knew his wait was almost over.


And then rage blazed to life in his eyes again, wiping away recognition and replacing it with burning, poisonous hate.


He growled low in his throat, the sound that of a gathering storm.


The cavern floor vibrated beneath my feet again.


Pebbles showered down, striking my arms, my legs… my face. Each hit stung and burned.


The river of foam at my feet churned across the rocks like mini-tidal waves.

Dust filled the air in thick puffs, choking me.


Fenrir dove toward me, howling.


FALL The Ragnarök Prophesies: Book Two
is available at
and Noble
You can add it to your TBR list on Goodreads here.
The Ragnarok Prophecies Book 3
Who do you trust when betrayal threatens to destroy everything you hold

When Arionna Jacobs fled town in a desperate bid to save Dace Matthews,
she never expected the chaos she would leave in her wake. Now her
closest friend is dead, and another is missing, forcing Ari to return
to face the devastating consequences of her actions and the broken
boy she left behind.
Her problems are only just beginning.


Even as her bond with Dace grows stronger,
Arionna finds herself weakening when Freki’s cage shatters. Fighting
the wolf for control is tearing her apart piece by piece. And at
every turn, she finds that those she’s put her faith in aren’t who
they seem, bringing her face to face with Sköll and Hati. As the
depth of their betrayal is revealed, Freki spirals out of control,
and Arionna must face her greatest fear: losing herself to the fierce
wolf within.


The world balances on the edge of a blade, and one wrong move will destroy it all.


With few allies she can trust and little choice left, Arionna must decide between the
lives of her friends and her own future with the alpha she loves.
Will she be able to stand firm for the sake of the world, or will she
falter in the face of defeat?

“Arionna, dammit, wake up.”


Unseen hands gripped my upper arms, shaking me. A familiar voice called my name over and over. Furious howls ripped through the air.


None of those sounds made sense to me.


I felt different, like I’d been taken apart and put back together in the wrong order. Everything hurt. My body ached, muscles locked tight in protest. My head throbbed. Each painful pulse rattled against my skull, sending ripples down my neck and into my back.


I groaned and rolled onto my side.


The hands shaking me relaxed.


I fought to open my eyes, then blinked, confused. Worn brown carpet scratched against the side of my face. The bottom edge of a pale blue bed-sham fluttered inches from me. Dust bunnies and small pieces of plastic were strewn beneath the sagging bed. A table and two chairs were grouped on the other side. A crack ran up the leg of one chair, splitting the wood.


None of the room looked familiar.


Where am I?


The voice calling my name stopped mid-shout and sighed.


Oh, thank god, he said.


For what? I wondered, marveling that the words came from inside my mind, but didn’t belong to me. How was that possible?


I couldn’t place the soft, silky tones either, but they made my stomach flip and my heart flutter. I knew the speaker. At least I thought I did. Before I could ask him who he was or how he spoke in my head, someone blew out a sharp breath. This time, the sound didn’t come from inside.


“Finally,” that second voice said.


Nope. Definitely not coming from my mind.


I rolled my eyes toward the relieved sound, and then frowned at the guy leaning over me. Long, dark hair hung in his face. His eyes were black, and full of concern. His features were sharp, severe, but handsome.


This time I was certain; I knew this guy.


“Ronan,” I said. His name was Ronan LaCrosse, and mine was… Arionna. Yes, Arionna Jacobs. Memory began to slowly trickle back in. We were at a motel in Illinois, looking for someone. And the howls were coming from Fuki, the little wolf we’d brought with us, though I couldn’t see him.


Where was he?


I tried to figure out why I was on the floor, but came up with a big blank.


“What happened?” I asked, looking up at Ronan.


He held out a hand for me, then pulled me into a sitting position.


The room tilted before straightening again. I clutched my head in my hands, groaning. When the initial wave of nausea passed, I tilted my head up slowly so I could see Ronan. “Did I hit my head?” I asked, trying to blink away the dark spots floating in my peripheral.


“You don’t remember?” He narrowed his eyes, tilting his head to the side like a raven assessing me.


I scooted back against the edge of the bed, frowning.


What was I supposed to remember?


FLAME The Ragnarök Prophesies: Book Three
is available at

You can add it to your TBR list on Goodreads
A.K. Morgen is the Amazon Bestselling author of the Ragnarök Prophesies
series. She lives in the heart of Arkansas with her childhood
sweetheart/husband of thirteen years, and their six furry minions.
When not writing, she spends her time hiking, reading, volunteering,
causing mischief, and building a Spork army. Ayden graduated
cum laude
with her Bachelor of Science degree in Criminal Justice and Forensic
Psychology in 2009 before going on to complete her graduate degree in
CJ and Law. She currently puts her education to use in the social
services and CJ field.
Ayden also writes New Adult and contemporary romance under the penname
Ayden K. Morgen.
You can find her on Twitter, Facebook, or via her website at
You can also enter the Goodreads Giveaway at:
Posted in #Book, Adult, Author, Bewitching Book Tours, blog, Book, Fiction, Sex, Tour, Violence, Writer

Barry by L.M. Pruitt – Book Tour





Book 14

L.M. Pruitt

Print Length: 186 pages
Publisher: SP Press
Publication Date: January 14, 2017
A standalone novel in the world of the international bestselling WINGED series… a glimpse in to one man’s past….
It was supposed to be a simple dinner. The repayment of a debt.
I should have known Lilith would find a way to make things difficult.
Three favors. Three stories of lovers past. As Lilith said, an easy task.
I remember them all.


I leaned back,
unfolding my napkin and draping it over my lap. “So, what sort of delicacy is
on the menu this evening?”
“Oh, who knows.
I leave those sort of things to the kitchen.” Lilith waved a hand absently,
brushing the question aside as if it was no more than a fly. “It’s time for you
to pay your debt.”
“And I’m here.”
“Baraquel.” Her
smile was the sort usually reserved for cute animals and slow adults. “Did you
really think a simple dinner would be all the repayment I required?”
“Not really but
I was foolish enough to hope.” Sighing, I pulled a cigar from my coat pocket
and examined the tip. “How, then, am I supposed to repay you?”
“Three favors,
correct?” Her smile grew when I nodded. “Wonderful. Three stories, then.”
“I beg your
pardon?” I winced, shaking my head as she laughed. “Remind me to limit my time
around Joanne. I’m picking up too many of her verbal ticks for my liking.”
“If it helps,
think of this as more of a series of lectures on the right and wrong way to
conduct relationships.” She propped her elbows on the table, steepling her
fingers as she stared at me with the sort of fascination I’d seen on cats in
the instant before they pounced. “After all, you have so much advice to offer.
It would be a shame to let it go to waste.”
“My personal
life is my own.” I set the cigar down, hating the stiffness in my voice and yet
unable to do anything to correct it. “You’ve known me long enough to know
“And I’m not
asking for a rundown of every person you’ve fucked in the last few millennia.”
Her smile widened, the edges turning cruel. “Besides, even if I did, I doubt
you could provide one.”
“I remember.”
“Do you?”
“Yes.” I
clenched my fist in my lap. “I remember them all.”
“Good.” She
tapped her fingers on her lower lip. “Then tell me a story.”


About the Author:

L.M. Pruitt has been reading and writing for as long as she can remember. A native of Florida with a love of New Orleans, she has the uncanny ability to find humor in most things and would probably kill a plastic plant. She knows this because she’s killed bamboo. Twice.  She is the author of the Winged series, the Plaisir Coupable series, Jude Magdalyn series, the Moon Rising series, and Taken: A Frankie Post Novel.

Guest Post

A Typical Week

A lot of people like to think a writer’s life is, for lack of a better word, awesome. I mean, you get to spend the day playing with your imaginary friends, researching cool and interesting things, and telling fantastic stories.

However, there is a reason a famous writer compared the act of writing to opening your veins and letting the blood spill out.

Four days a week, I wake up at around six thirty in the morning. After stumbling around for a bit, I manage to make myself presentable enough to go out in public and not scare small children. I settle in for my morning commute, which takes all of three minutes—five when there’s traffic. And then I’m at my office, i.e., a local coffee shop.

Coffee shops are interesting first thing in the morning. They’re just quiet enough to allow for concentration but they also have enough background noise to keep your mind from wandering completely. There’s a great mix of people who are stumbling in, desperate for coffee, and those who have clearly already had more than their fair share and are now ready to conquer the world. I have a great deal of sympathy for those in the first group because despite the fact I can wake up early and at almost any time, I am by no means happy about it.

After a quick infusion of caffeine and a bagel—one of my few weaknesses—I settle in for a few hours of writing. This generally involves periods of typing, periods of staring out the window at the lake, and periods of reading news and taking quizzes on my phone. Sometimes if I’m in the zone I can write for two or three hours straight but I usually only have the concentration for about sixty minutes at a time. Breaking between major scenes or chapters allows time for things to process and for the characters to let me know which way things need to go.

With the largest portion of my daily writing out of the day, I head back to my house, i.e., my other office, where I spend a few hours writings posts such as this one, looking for stock photos for covers, brainstorming, and doing a few dozen of the hundreds of little things which keep me occupied. Then it’s time for lunch and a quick nap.

And then, at least two days of the week, it’s time for the day job.

The two days I don’t get sell my soul to the service industry I continue writing off and on throughout the evening. I may work on some crochet projects, usually blankets or scarves, and watch some Netflix but nothing too exciting.

The other three days operate are essentially flipped—I work at the day job in the actual day and try and find the energy to crank out words at night. The only day I don’t write is Sunday, mostly because by that point I’m exhausted and, well, it would interfere with my drinking.

And then come Monday it starts all over again—but I wouldn’t change a thing.

Well, as far as the writing goes.

Posted in #Giveaway, Action, Adult, Author, blog, Book, Erotic, Silver Dagger Scriptorium Tours, Tour, Writer

Marie Curie Saves the Titanic by Lady Ristretto – Book Tour + #Giveaway


Marie Curie Saves the Titanic
with a Flying Alien and a Mechanical Bat (and then They Bang):
An Action Figure Erotic Novel
By Lady Ristretto
Marie Curie is travelling aboard the Titanic on its maiden voyage with many historical figures, such as the Einsteins and Rudolph Valentino. Marie finds herself attracted to two mysterious American men, the ethereally handsome Kent Calhoun and the brooding billionaire Brewster Wainright.
Marie’s extended exposure to radiation through scientific research has given her telekinetic powers. But Marie isn’t the only one with superhuman powers.
Suffering in an unhappy marriage with an emotionally abusive husband, Marie
indulges sexually in the fascinating people around her.
Despite it being a buffet of anachronistic historical figures which borders on the absurd, Marie goes through a very profound and painful journey as she finally determines that she wants her life to change.
This is an Action Figure Erotica novel. The main characters have to have been made into action figures. Time, place, and history doesn’t matter. It’s like playing with toys as an adult. It’s fantasy and myth and history all wrapped up in a sexy package.



Day Two, April 11


Marie slept through breakfast and then had room service bring up coffee and croissants.  It was cold and foggy outside, but Marie didn’t mind.  She ate her croissant staring out her porthole and felt like she was on a magical adventure.  Cal and Mileva were electrifying, magical people.


Mileva wasn’t merely Einstein’s wife.  She had been his student and was an independent physicist.  Without hesitation, Mileva shared that Albert preferred that she stay home with their steadily growing brood of children.


“I love my children,” she said sadly, in French.  Mileva spoke to her in French out of respect and intimacy.  In French, they could have a private conversation.  “I do.  I simply grow incredibly frustrated and bored and restless and the children can be so needy.”  As if remembering herself and realizing the intimate details she was revealing, Mileva shook her head and smiled.  “Physics is demanding, but it doesn’t dump peanut butter and jelly in the toilet or shave the cat.”


“Peanut butter and jelly?”


“Because the fish were hungry.  My children are crazy.”  She said it in quite a serious tone.  “Do you have children?  Oh, I’m sorry, that was indelicate of me.”  Mileva took her hand and squeezed it with passion.


Marie laughed.  “Radiation is my child and I’m happy it is.”


Mileva kept Marie’s hand and put it in her lap.  “Is it really killing you?”


Marie’s face fell.


“That was extremely indelicate.  But it’s quite all right–my children are killing me,” Mileva said, forcing her face into a pleasant expression.  Marie could tell Mileva was drunk, and she was only hinting at the deeper misery she had.  Mileva had wanted to be a physicist as a little girl.  Einstein wanted her to be a wife and mother.  Mileva could give him valuable feedback and yet couldn’t actively participate in the scientific world.  Mileva looked at Marie’s hand in her lap, letting her fingers trace Marie’s knuckles.  She looked like she was about to kiss them.  “Albert is quite taken with you.  He says your glowing green skin is captivating.”


Marie suddenly smiled and looked away.  A subtle blush of green flames licked across her cheeks.  “You’re too kind and generous.”


“And out of champagne!” Mileva emptied her glass and waved for a waiter.  One immediately showed to refill her glass, but she told him to leave the bottle.  He did so obediently.  Mileva filled both their glasses.  Marie giggled and they both drank.


“Albert wanted me to approach you about a threesome,” Mileva said, her eyes flashing as her fingers played with the gleaming white pearls around her neck.  She still retained Marie’s hand.  “So I have and my job is done.”


Marie blinked several times.  “I’m…very flattered of course.”


“But not interested,” Mileva said.


“I’m not opposed to the concept of sexual liberation.  God knows my own husband is leading the campaigner for gay men in Paris.  But Albert is…”


“Not your type?”


“Not at all.  No offense, I assure you.”


Mileva fixed her eyes on Marie:  “And me, Professor Curie?  Am I your type?”


Marie knew exactly what she wanted to say.  But all she could do drink all the champagne in her glass in one gulp.


Mileva laughed and she sounded young and excited.  She jumped up.  “Come dance with me!”


Marie allowed Mileva to pull her to the dance floor.  It was late into the evening and most people had left to walk the deck or continue drinking harder liquor at one of the bars.  Cal and Wayne were still in the dining room, deep in conversations with older gray haired men in expensive suits who seemed quite charmed.


Mileva put her arm around Marie’s waist, and Marie’s hand on Mileva’s shoulder.  “I don’t normally lead, but you don’t look like you’ve done this before.”


“I have!” Marie responded.


Mileva threw her head back and laughed.


There was a full band still playing, and Ella Fitzgerald was singing “Embraceable You.”  Mileva guided Marie slowly to the music, pressing her close.  Marie was slightly taller and looked down into Mileva’s dress, seeing her breasts free and moving against the beaded fabric of her dress.  Occasionally, she had a glimpse of a hard, pink nipple and Marie felt her body warm dramatically.


Suddenly Mileva let go of Marie and jumped back.  The chandelier drops of Marie’s dress reflected her green glow, which was intensifying dramatically.  Marie shuddered from the energy pumping through her body, and there was a burst.  The glass drops shot out intense beams, scorching the dance floor all around her.  It came out like a shotgun blast and then it was over.


Marie was mortified, pressing her hand over her mouth.  Mileva, however, was delighted.  She threw her arms around Marie and said she’d never been so flattered.


Cal and Wayne stared at Marie, their mouths hanging open.


The next morning, Marie hardly believed that the conversation took place.  Her face became hot from the memory and the heat was so intense it made her sweat all over.


Marie opened her porthole and let in the cold sea air.  She breathed in deeply and slowly and felt the heat begin to subside.  She had a fleeting thought of being twisted in her bed with Mileva, and it started wet heat trickling between her legs.  It almost set her nightgown on fire.  She smelled the material smoking and just managed to pull it off over her head and pushed it out the porthole.


Marie needed distraction.  She took a very cold shower and dressed in a thick, lead lined dress.  It was quite heavy, but necessary.  Especially if she was going to be so physically excitable today.  She was not usually so excitable.  She almost never caused fires or burned holes in dancefloors.  It was annoying, but it was also intriguing.  It offered up the possibility that things could be different on the Titanic.  That she could relax and do things Pierre wouldn’t allow.

Usually Marie wore her hair up in a practical bun.  Normally, her work could not accommodate her attention straying to her hair.  It must be completely out of her way.  She couldn’t sacrifice even a moment to push an unruly lock behind her ear.


But today she wanted to wear her hair down, pinned back at her neck to keep it mildly under control.  It was comfortable and, she knew, much more attractive.  As she brushed it, smiling and enjoying this small act of rebellion, there was a knock at the door.  It was a porter bearing an envelope sealed with wax.  He explained he was instructed to wait for an answer.


It was an invitation from Cal, requesting her presence at tea and a walk around the deck.  Marie wrote on the card, I would love to, and the heat from her hand left a burnt imprint on the paper.  Her first reaction was to keep it and simply give the porter a verbal confirmation.


But, no: let Cal see her fire.

I worked for almost ten years in coffee (Starbucks, Barnes & Noble cafes) when I quit and turned to writing erotica full time.

That’s a little misleading. Let me back up about twenty years. I decided I wanted to write professionally when I was in high school (not erotica, but my work definitely skirted the issue in an obvious way, but it eventually manifested itself in plays. They were the only thing I could finish. I did write poetry, but it was riddled with teen angst and pocked with imagery involving bleeding walls of flesh and a knight chess piece. And I kept a diary which, at the time, I wrote at an astonishing rate of half to one blank book a day.

While at UCLA, I wrote plays on the side. Sometimes during class. Sometimes inspired by my classes. While I took archaeology, queer literature and vampire fiction I wrote a radio play about a cross dressing archaeologist in Mexico who unknowingly unearthed a vampire.

After UCLA I had no idea what to do with myself and missed college a week after I graduated. I had my first full length play produced by a small theater in Illinois, and the director told me I’d learn much if I got my MFA in playwriting. So I went to Southern Illinois University, Carbondale and got my MFA.

I wasn’t the best graduate student. I was willful, stubborn, contrary, fiesty, combative. My work started to enter the realm of erotica and, being life stage plays, this became problematic. Especially in a university theater. I had written a one act play about pony play, which the department found too objectionable and unstagable to produce. Another one act was about a lesbian astronomer who falls in love with a star, and has a kind of “sex” scene with the star involving a nude scene.

My thesis play was about a woman who pretends to be a man online, and has cybersex with another woman. I didn’t want this to be my thesis. For my thesis, I wrote a full length version of Dying in Pleasure. But that was immediately found to be objectionable: too violent and misogynistic for undergraduates actors.

But I got out of there, and spent a couple years working on a novel version of Dying in Pleasure. I couldn’t let it go. During this time I went to Pompeii and it was harrowing. The condition of the town and seeing the bodies on display was extremely disturbing. No matter what professors had said about my play, I wasn’t going to abandon the story.

I eventually landed in Texas to work on my Phd. While there I began my own theater company to produce my works almost exclusively. This is when erotica and playwriting truly merged, and I became quite the controversy.

The theater lived almost two years before bankrupting, and I suppose I slid underground. I wrote very little and focused on coffee. Many personal issues and complications and life changes later, I find myself in Southampton, England and writing erotica full time. I work on novels and write short stories on commission. I’ve been building a significant online presence and have worked hard to be successful.

Publishing Dying in Pleasure has been more than a professional hurdle and accomplishment. It’s the culmination of years of work, my development as a writer, my obsession with Pompeii and my stubbornness.

Presently, I’m working on a mermaid erotica novel which I hope to be the first book in a series.

PS. A question suddenly occurred to me–why erotica? I’ve been fascinated with sex and sexuality for years. At this point, nothing really shocks me (although every once in a while, something new pops up that does), and it all fascinates me. I don’t judge anyone. I don’t write about everything (such as child molestation), but I don’t look down on furries and golden showers and any form of BDSM.

I think what intrigues me the most is the power sex has over us. How sex can turn an intelligent, well balanced, logical and emotionally stable person into a panting beast. I’ve experienced it myself. One of my best friends said of me, “How could someone so intelligent do something so stupid?” What I had done was stupid, but how it happened in simple: sex. I didn’t know how to wield the power of sex. It was a sword I was too weak to carry and it cut me in a thousand places. It had nothing to do with intelligence. Sex never does.

Intelligence is realizing that sex is powerful. And sometimes it’s okay to give in to it, and other times it’s not.

Posted in #Giveaway, Adult, Author, blog, Book, Fantasy, Paranormal, Romance, Silver Dagger Scriptorium Tours, Tour, Writer

Spellbound Hearts by Mistral Dawn – Book Tour + #Giveaway



Taken By The Huntsman
Spellbound Hearts Book 1
by Mistral Dawn

Genre: Paranormal Romance, Adult Fantasy


Discarded and ignored by those around her for most of her life, Cassie is a lonely human woman struggling to find her place in the world and meaning in her life. Cadeyrn is the Erlking, the leader of the Wild Hunt, a hundreds of thousands of years old Fae who has always known his purpose. He has spent his entire long existence tracking the criminals of Fairie and punishing them for their crimes.
While hunting for the murderer of a child who has escaped to Earth Cadeyrn comes across Cassie and realizes that she is the one that the great mother goddess has designated as his soul mate. He kidnaps her and takes her to his fortress in Fairie to protect her from his many enemies. He knows she will be angry and that he’ll have to work to earn her trust, but he finds his task to be even more challenging than he had thought it would be due to Cassie’s difficulty in opening her heart.
Will Cadeyrn be able to convince Cassie that the bond between them is real and earn her love?


“Have you ever been dominated in bed?”

She gasped in pleasure as his thigh found just the right spot. “Oh my god! I can’t think! What do you mean?”

“Have you ever allowed a lover to dictate to you in bed?”

“You mean obey orders?”

“Yes, or at least cooperate with direction.”

“No, I haven’t done that.”

“Will you allow me to do that tonight?” He traced his free hand over the front of her body, making leisurely circles around her breasts with his fingers.

She arched into his hand. “That’s not fair!” she gasped. “I don’t know what you mean. Oh my god, stop tormenting me and tell me what you want!”

Cadeyrn dipped down to taste her lips. “This is what I want. I want to hold you down and have my way with you. I want you to struggle if you wish, but I want you allow me to have this control. If you truly want me to stop for any reason, if something frightens you or it becomes too much or you are in pain, say the word ‘stad,’ and I will immediately stop. Otherwise, you may struggle and beg as you choose, but I will do as I please. Will you allow this? Do you agree?”

Cassie looked up at the male above her. She was so turned on she could barely breathe. Her thoughts were slow, but she knew he wanted her to give up all control to him. Looking at him, she knew absolutely that she could trust him. If she wanted him to stop, he would stop. If she really wanted him to let her go, he would. She knew that was true without question.

But she didn’t want him to stop. And she didn’t want him to let her go.


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Bound By The Summer Prince
Spellbound Hearts Book 2


The Summer Court is in an uproar. The king has just been executed for unpardonable crimes, and the queen is prostrate with grief over his loss. This leaves the Summer kingdom bereft of true leadership; a problem which is compounded by the fact that the laws of Fairie require balance to be maintained by having a male and a female ruler for both Season Courts at all times. Uaine, the Summer prince, is the only one who can put things right, but he is without a mate. Knowing that he must take a bride quickly, for the sake of his people, even though he is struggling with his own feelings of pain and anger over his father’s treachery, he goes for a walk in a forest near the palace to try to clear his head and determine how best to choose a female to rule beside him.
While walking Uaine discovers a human female running loose in Fairie, which is against the most basic tenets of Fae law. Furious at one more problem he must deal with, he takes her prisoner and locks her in the dungeon; only to discover later that she is his soul-mate. The magical bond between them means they are meant to be together forever, but humans can’t feel the magic of Fairie. Will Uaine be able to win her heart and convince her that she can trust him to keep her safe from all the dangers of Fairie…including himself?
Roni is a human con woman and petty thief. Having run afoul of the local crime syndicate in the city where she is staying, she finds herself running for her life. Trouble is no stranger to her, but when she falls through a hole in a wall and finds herself in a world with carnivorous trees and rocks that eat people she realizes she may have found more of it than she can deal with. Rescued/arrested by the prince of the Summer Court, it doesn’t take long for her to formulate a plan to use him to get herself home. Unfortunately for her, she soon finds that her heart, which she had thought long ago turned to stone, has begun to feel the love she has been playing at. Will she be able to overcome a lifetime of caution and allow herself to follow her heart? Can a criminal love a cop?

Please be aware that this book contains explicit sexual scenes, depictions of BDSM, and anal play. If these things disturb you, then this may not be the book for you.


Noticing that the temperature had increased quite a bit as they walked, Uaine asked; “Are you too warm?”

“Hmmm…?” Distracted by the passing crowd, Roni replied, “Oh no, I love the heat. I’ve never been a fan of winter.”

Marveling again at how perfect this female was for him, the Prince just smiled and nodded.

“Are you feeling better?”

“A bit. The town feels like a happy place for some reason.”

“Trade is good today, my mother has managed to get a few goods from other kingdoms here, and the people are enjoying their bargain hunting. Their happiness is reflected in the energy of the town.”

“How can I possibly be affected by the local Faes’ happiness?”

“Magic is everywhere in Fairie, it saturates the air and the ground. Some magics, especially wild magics, are heavily influenced by mood. If the local populace were angry, the feel of the town would be very different. It’s even possible that a storm would form.”

“The weather is affected by peoples’ moods?”

“It can be.”

“So it’s sunny today because people are happy?”

“Maybe, but not necessarily. Wild magics are unpredictable. I don’t know how a different mood would manifest, I only know it would be different than it is now.

Sighing, she shook her head and pulled her hand from the prince’s. “The more I learn about this place, the weirder it seems.”

Uaine walked up behind her and put his hands on her shoulders. “But strange doesn’t necessarily mean bad.” He slid one hand down her right arm and reclaimed her hand. “Come with me, I’d like to show you something.”


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Intrigue In The Summer Court
Spellbound Hearts #2.5


Jillian knows something bad is going to happen! She has been a loyal adviser to the throne and friend of the queen, Briallen, for thousands of years, and now Roni and Uaine’s wedding and coronation are to take place in just a couple days. The Summer Court will have a new king and queen, who, it is hoped, can repair the damage and heal the schism the late king created.
But Jillian can’t shake the feeling that trouble is brewing. Many of the Summer nobles aren’t happy about the changes that are taking place in the Summer Court, and many of the other Fae just aren’t too sure about having a human on the throne…even if she has been blessed by the goddess. When Angelica, the leader of the Pixies, comes to her with news of a plot to murder the prince and princess, Jillian’s suspicions are confirmed. Will the two of them be able to unravel this conspiracy in time to save the royal couple? Or will prejudice prevail, and the hope for peace in Fairie be lost forever?
*This is a novella and is number 2.5 in the series.

**This story contains adult material, BDSM play, and explicit sexual scenes. If that is not your thing, this may not be the story for you. 🙂

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Captivated By The Winter King
Spellbound Hearts Book 3


Kate is a woman on the run. After years of being physically and emotionally abused by her fiance, she’s finally had enough. But leaving might be even more dangerous than staying, so she needs to get as far away as she can as fast as possible. A late night, desperate drive through the pouring rain ends suddenly when a cat appears in the middle of the road. While trying to avoid the half-drowned creature, Kate loses control of her car and crashes through a portal to Fairie.
Ankou is a fallen God of Death and the king of the Winter Court of Fairie, and he’s facing pressure from every direction. The magic of the Court is out of balance due to the centuries-long lack of a queen. He is harried constantly by the Court nobles who want him to either step down or take a mate. All the duties of a ruling pair rest squarely on his shoulders. And added to all this is a soul-crushing loneliness. His existence stretches back hundreds of millennia, and in all that time he has never found the one person who could warm his lonely heart. He is exhausted and discouraged, and the last thing he needs is to go tearing off into the night on a fool’s errand. But one of his lingering god powers is the ability to sense the right course of action to follow, and his instincts are screaming at him to go to a particular place in the forest of the Winter kingdom and wait. Imagine his surprise when he finds the one he has been waiting for his whole life!
Using a careful blend of patience, seduction, and domination, the Winter king tries to win his soulmate’s love. Feeling safe and valued for the first time in her memory, Kate explores her new freedom by agreeing to try the BDSM games her lover suggests. As she experiments with both domination and submission, she learns just how liberating surrender can be. Will Ankou be able to convince Kate that she can trust him with her feelings as well as her body? Will Kate find a way to overcome the trauma of her past and open up her heart to accept the love that is offered to her? Can these two broken people find a way to fit all their disparate pieces together into a stronger, united whole? You’ll have to read to find out!

**Trigger Warning: please note that this story contains depictions of domestic violence and other forms of familial abuse. If these types of situations cause you distress, this may not be the story for you.
**Please note that this story contains scenes of violence and explicit sexual scenes including BDSM. If this type of material offends you, this is probably not the story for you.


Kate opened her eyes, confused about where she was. Looking around, she saw the remnants of a fire glowing in the fireplace and a large expanse of well-muscled chest. Raising her eyes, she saw Ankou’s face still relaxed in sleep and the memories of the night before came back to her.

They had started her recitation of her history on opposite ends of the sofa, but when she told him about the first time Erik beat her she hadn’t been able to control her tears. Ankou had moved closer to comfort her, and it had felt so good she hadn’t moved away. Somehow, the horror of the past few years seemed more distant when she was in his arms. She didn’t remember falling asleep, but it seemed they both had.

Thinking about that, Kate realized she wasn’t upset about it. It was nice to wake up next to someone and not be afraid. And she wasn’t. It took her a moment’s reflection, but she determined that she felt relaxed and content. The absence of fear in another person’s presence was a heady sensation, and it made her feel bold.

For a long time, she had craved a connection with another person. She had always wanted to be close to someone who would stand by her and love her for who she was. Such a relationship had eluded her for her entire life, but she still yearned for it with a desperation that often left her breathless. Her doubts lingered, but she hoped that Ankou might be that person for her. He claimed they were soulmates. Did a deeper understanding of another person exist? Maybe, finally, she had found someone she could trust.

Ankou’s full lips were just out of her reach, but by stretching just a little bit she could meet them with her own. Did she want to? Did she have the courage? Her desire for touch and affection burned within her, and she decided the answer to both questions was yes. Reaching up, she grazed his mouth with her lips and inhaled his scent. He smelled sweet and spicy at the same time.

Feeling warm and relaxed, Ankou came awake to find his Anamchara’s mouth hovering over his own. He waited to see what she would do, not wanting to rush her to do more than she was ready for. When her eyes met his, he saw the question in them and silently gave her consent to proceed if she wished; leaving the decision in her hands. The moment she made up her mind, her lips met his in a gentle caress and he groaned his approval.

The teasing brushes of her mouth against his caused his body to react, and he was aware of every point of contact between them with painful acuity. The feel of her lying against him, her body melting into his, made him want to tear the clothes from her and explore every inch of her delectable form with his tongue. But he knew he couldn’t do that. If anything had been made clear during Kate’s description of her relationship with the odious human male who had tried to claim her, it was that this woman needed to know her needs would be considered and her limits respected. A precipitous coupling would not give her that reassurance. So he would be patient and proceed at her pace.

The gentle butterfly kisses she gave him progressed to soft nips and firmer contact between their mouths. After some hesitation, she eased her tongue between his lips and he met it with his own. As their kissing deepened, she began to run her hands experimentally over his body. He mirrored her actions; careful only to follow where she led. In time, his patience was rewarded as she moaned in satisfaction and shifted so that the contact between their bodies increased.

Changing the angle at which his thigh lay, he pressed it between her legs and was delighted when she rubbed herself against it. She slid her hands under his tunic, and he shivered as her slender fingers teased his nipples. Moving so as to be able to raise his shirt higher, she was thwarted when it caught under his body. Ankou moaned in ecstasy and shifted in an effort to make it easier for her to remove his clothing.

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Mistral Dawn is a thirty-something gal who has lived on both coasts of the US, but somehow never in the middle. She currently resides in the Southeast US with her kitty cats (please spay or neuter! :-)). She has written three full-length novels in the Spellbound Hearts series, Taken By The Huntsman, Bound By The Summer Prince, and Captivated By the Winter King.

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