Wednesday, November 30, 2011

Talking with SJD Peterson/Contest Announcement

I was lucky to sit down with SJD Peterson in between her moving, edits, NaNoMo project and other items going. She was even grascious to let me grill...err ask..some questions while she was so busy. Now take it away SJD Peterson....

Q: I hear you have a big blog event going on. Want to tell us about the authors and what all of it entails?

SJD:  During December 1 through the 25th a different author will feature his or her Christmas story and answer a few questions! You won't want to miss what some of these authors did to get on Santa's naughty list!! Keep track of all the authors in the order they appear and email it to to be entered into a drawing for an 25$ Amazon gift card check out the details at sjdpeterson.blogspot

Q:  Your latest is Quinn's Need, sequel to Lorcan's Desire. What made you decide to give Quinn a book of his own?

SJD:  Quinn' Book is actually a continuation of Lorcan's adventure! When I got to 150k and the story still wasn't told I decided to make it a trilogy! Ty's Obsession will be out February 6th at Dreamspinner!

Q:  What is your favorite Christmas song?

 SJD: Oh by far my fav Christmas song is Santa Baby!!! I like her wish list ~wink~

Q:  Do you go all out for the holidays (decorate the entire house? Bake? etc)?

SJD:  Me bake????? LMAO I can't even boil water! I do decorate the entire house even have a tree in the hockey room!

Q:  What is your favorite Christmas cookie to enjoy each year?

 SJD: My favorite cookie is the kind anyone will bake for me!! Not a fan of store bought! Will you bake me cookies Dawn??? Please!!!

Q:  Tell us about any upcoming releases you may have.

 SJD: Leon my short story is part of DSP Cristmas Anthology and comes out tomorrow!! Masters & Boyd comes out January 23 and Ty's Obsession 2 weeks later on February 6th both from DSP. I also have Battle Buddy coming to Silver Publishing but not sure of the date yet.

About SJD Peterson:

SJD Peterson Day~Sneak peek into Quinn's Need, Whispering Pines Ranch #2

Quinn's Need by SJD Peterson
Dreamspinner Press
Available in Print & E-book
Western/Cowboy,BDSM/Kink, M/M

Sequel to Lorcan’s Desire - A Whispering Pines Ranch Novel

It’s been a year since Lorcan James left Whispering Pines Ranch, and Quinn Taylor has barely recovered.  Only two things keep him from falling into the abyss of despair: his work at the ranch and his escape into the world of BDSM at a club called The Push. At The Push, the sound of men begging him helps drown out the bitter memory of his own voice begging Lorcan to stay.

When Lorcan comes back to Pegasus, the same blistering heat simmers between them, but almost nothing has changed.  Lorcan is still with Jess, the man he left the ranch with, and Quinn has captured the attention of Ty Callahan, a man who will beg Quinn for anything, anytime, and any way Quinn wants it. Despite how much he wants Lorcan, Quinn swears he’ll never beg a man again. If there’s one thing Quinn has learned the hard way, it’s that not even begging can fill love’s aching need.

Sneak peek Excerpt:

THE feel of the thick crop in his hand was like an aphrodisiac to his senses. Combined with the scents of leather, sweat, and arousal, it made Quinn feel like a god. Only two things eased his mind these days. First was working his ranch until every muscle in his body screamed for rest, only to push it further until exhaustion set in so deep that he didn't even dream when he finally laid his head down on his pillow. The second was the activity he was currently partaking in, one that didn't allow old memories to haunt him, his entire focus on the power that eclipsed his mind.

Quinn let his fingers ghost across the slick skin of a broad back. Felt the heat rise from the dozen raised welts.

His marks.

He pressed his bare chest against the man bound to the wall, eliciting a hiss of pain from him at the contact of sweat-damp skin. One hand coiled tightly around the thick crop; the other he let soothe up the man's arm until his fingertips met the cool metal of a shackle. Another hiss filled the air as callused fingers made contact with abraded skin.

“What are your safe words, boy?”

“Apollo and Zeus, Sir,” was the soft reply.

“Will you bleed for me, boy?” Quinn stepped back to groans of protest from his bound boy. “Will you?” he demanded.

“Ye… yes, Sir… anything.”

He tested the weight of the crop against his thigh again, though he knew its weight as if it were an extension of his own hand. “Why will you bleed for me?”

“Because you demand it, Sir.”

The whooshing sound of the crop as it sailed through the air sent a thrill through Quinn that exploded into a hot, burning fire as the crop cracked against exposed skin and elicited a cry of pain. Quinn watched with satisfaction as his mark split open ever so slightly. A small trickle of blood began to ooze from the wound. Stepping closer, he let the leather tip of the crop caress the taut ass, producing a shiver from the man's body before it tightened in anticipation of the next explosion of pain.

Quinn leaned in closer, his mouth hovering next to his boy's ear, letting him feel the heat of his body but denying him the contact of both his body and the crop. He could practically feel the tension in the muscles. The man fighting against the need to push back but unable to stop the tremble the desire produced. He turned his head, looked right into Quinn’s forceful gaze, and pleaded with his wide blue eyes.

“Eyes front, boy, or I'll blindfold you.”

The man's head snapped back, facing the wall. “Sorry, Sir… it's just….”

Quinn let the sting of the crop emphasize his words as he laid a stripe across his boy's ass. “You are not to look at me, not to speak to me unless it's to use your safe word or answer a direct question. Do you understand?”

His boy took a couple of panting breaths, trying to relax the tension in his body, before replying with a nod.

Quinn let the crop fly again, leaving a matching stripe on the other side of his ass, causing a groan to escape from the man’s chest. “That was a direct question, boy.”

“Yes… yes, Sir… I understand, Sir.”

“Good boy.”

Quinn took up his earlier position, once again letting his boy feel his heat but not his body. He knew denying his body would break the sub. What he wanted—no, what he needed—was to hear him beg. To cry out, beg for Quinn and only Quinn. He needed to dismantle, to destroy the man until only Quinn existed. Needed to know no one thing or being meant more to the man than Quinn did in this moment.

Quinn leaned in again and whispered, “Who owns you?”

“You, Sir. You can do what you want with my body. Beat me, fuck me, or walk away and leave me here aching. I am powerless against you, Sir. I cannot walk away from you until you desire it, Sir.”

The crop dropped to the floor with a thud as Quinn grabbed a handful of dark blond hair in his fist, yanking back hard. A grunt of pain was the only response, but it turned into a moan of desire when Quinn rubbed his leather-encased erection against his boy’s reddened ass.

Quinn pressed his lips against the tender flesh beneath his ear. “Beg me to stay with you. Beg me to fuck you.”

“Oh God, Sir… please, Sir… I ache.”

Quinn pushed his erection harder into his boy’s ass, at the same time reaching into his back pocket for the lube and condom he had tucked in there. “You ache because I demand it of you. But I’m not sure if you want it enough. Convince me, boy.” Pulling back slightly, he unbuttoned his leathers, releasing his near-to-bursting shaft.

Clutching his restraints in a white-knuckled hold, body trembling, he said, “I need you, Sir, only you… please, Sir….” The last words were a sob that wracked his boy’s chest, tears streaming down his face before he continued. “Only you, Sir… please, I only need you. I ache… nothing without you, Sir.”

Quinn froze, the condom he had been rolling onto his shaft forgotten. “What did you say?”

“Need you, Sir, only you.”

Pain exploded in Quinn’s chest, radiating out through his body in waves, his breath dying in his lungs. His blood froze in his veins as a haunting memory flooded his mind.

“I ache all the time, I’m nothing without you.”

He pushed away the painful memory with every bit of will he could muster. He forced himself to finish rolling on the condom, slicking his fingers and waning shaft with lube. Those memories had no place here. He wasn't the one begging, the one desperate. He was in control, and his boy would not leave him, not unless he allowed it.

Under his terms.

His rules.

Sneak Peek into the Whispering Pines Ranch Series, Lorcan's Desire,by SJD Peterson

When i first picked up Lorcan's Desire, I was intrigued by the cover first then by the book blurb. But it didn't get me ready for the most amazing story I ever read. it was hot, sexy and emotional. It had an ending I didn't see coming and a few twists to keep me on the edge of your seat. Today is SJD Peterson Day and up first is sneak peek into Lorcan's Desire...Book 1 int he Whispering Pines Ranch Series. Settle in and meet Lorcan and Quinn, two sexy cowboys who will make your blood run hot and wish you were there with them.

Lorcan's Desire by SJD Peterson
Dreamspinner Press
Contemporary/Western/Cowboys M/M
Print & E-book

Despite the loving support of his family, Lorcan James wants to try life on his own, so at twenty-one, he finds himself walking halfway across the country in search of adventure. What he finds is desperation, desperation that leads him straight to Whispering Pines Ranch and right into the path of its strong, arrogant, gorgeous owner, who awakens something in Lorcan he didn’t even know existed.

Quinn Taylor is up to his neck in grief and frustration dealing with a neighboring rancher who wants nothing more than to see him go belly-up. He doesn’t need more complications, but from the moment he lays eyes on Lorcan, his world turns upside down. Despite finding in Quinn what his heart craves, Lorcan refuses to be Quinn’s dirty little secret—and Quinn isn’t the only one vying for Lorcan’s attention. Ranch hand Jess will happily declare his love for Lorcan to the world, something Quinn won’t offer—something Lorcan needs above all else.

Sneak peek Excerpt:

“GODDAMN sons of bitches! If one more of you nasty beasts breaks through this fence, I swear I will be holding a beef sale like this county has never seen.”

Quinn angrily tossed his tools back in his saddlebag and mounted Jeb. He was getting too old and too damn tired to be having to tend to an entire ranch practically single-handedly. Two months ago, that bastard Henderson had started rumors about Quinn’s sexuality and offered his hands nearly twice what Quinn could afford to pay them. Since then, he’d lost everyone who’d worked for him except Ole John and his partner Conner. They’d been with the ranch when his daddy had owned it, and since they had never hidden their preferences, he was sure Henderson had used them as his next attempt to shut him down.

The bitch of the thing was that no one had ever suspected him before. He’d always been very discreet the few times he’d gone over to Jackson to scratch his itch. Hell, he’d only gone three times in the five years since his daddy had passed and left him the ranch. The only damn grudge Mr. Henderson could have against him was the fact that he’d refused to sell him his daddy’s land. The old fart had spent the last five years trying to run him into the ground and make him go belly-up. It was now like an ugly obsession for them both, Henderson doing everything in his power to ensure Quinn lost the ranch and Quinn, in turn, doing everything in his power to prove the evil fuck wrong.

He couldn’t begrudge his hands for going where the money was. Before they left, most of them made sure to let him know that they either didn’t believe the rumors or didn’t care, that it was purely for financial reasons. He couldn’t blame them for wanting the extra cash flow. Still, no matter the reason, he was stuck trying to do the work of ten men and wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep it up. Sighing, he reined Jeb around back toward the barn. No sense worrying on things he couldn’t control. He had stalls to muck and critters to feed, and hopefully, when he was done, Conner would have him a nice spread on his dinner table.

When he reached the corral, Quinn swung down from Jeb, grabbed the reins, and led the horse to the barn for a much-needed grooming and some sweet feed. Jeb was a damn fine horse and hadn’t let him down, no matter how much he’d been demanding from the stallion lately. He’d just cleared the side of the barn when the sight before him stopped him dead in his tracks.

Leaning back against the fence by the old water pump was either the most beautiful man he’d ever seen or one hell of a big woman. The vision before him had fine, delicate features, a thin nose, and high cheekbones. Dark brows and thick lashes lay against golden, sun-kissed skin. Though the eyes were closed, Quinn was sure they’d be as dark and stunning as the long chestnut hair that hung, braided, down the entire length of back to a firm, denim-clad ass. Quinn’s dick twitched as a pink tongue darted out to lick full, lush lips. Jesus, he needed to get laid if just the quick flick of a tongue was enough to make his dick stand up and say hello. Maybe a little trip down to Jackson was in his near future.

Quinn took a step forward and cleared his throat before yelling out, “Something I can help you with?”

The man jerked his head up and straightened himself to his full height, nearly stumbling. He was definitely male. The sun glinted off slight stubble on a narrow chin as he turned his head towards Quinn. If that wasn’t enough to convince him, then the fact that Quinn instantly knew the man dressed to the right was a dead giveaway.

“Jesus, sir, you just took a year off my life.”

Quinn’s blood rushed south at the sound of the deep, velvet-smooth voice. Oh, yeah, definitely time to head to Jackson.

He held his hand out. “Sorry about that. Didn’t mean to startle you. Thought you’d have heard me and Jeb coming up.”

The stranger wiped his hand on his thigh before taking the one offered in a nice, firm grip. “Sorry, sir. Guess I zoned out for a moment there.”

A jolt of electricity raced up Quinn’s arm from the contact, and he was sure by the widening of black pupils and the slight flare of nostrils that he wasn’t the only one who had felt it. Quinn reluctantly released the man’s hand, petting Jeb’s nose when he leaned in with a curious sniff. “Was there something I could help you with?”

The man, obviously just realizing his manners, snatched the hat off his head, kneading the brim nervously. “Yes, sir. I, well… I was hoping… I mean….” He huffed out a frustrated breath and tried again. “I heard you may be looking for some help.”

Quinn stiffened slightly, suspicion creeping into him. With all the shit that he’d been through lately with Henderson, he couldn’t help but be a little leery. What were the chances that someone would come looking for work just when he was starting to consider giving up and handing Henderson what he wanted? Not to mention he wouldn’t put it past the prick to hire someone that looked like the kid in front of him just to tempt him. Still, he wasn’t convinced that the old man would be lucky enough to hire a guy that tripped every attraction switch Quinn had. Plus, the kid did look to be pretty desperate and didn’t sound too sure of himself. He was either one hell of an actor or, in fact, just someone looking for work. His instinct told him it was the latter, but he’d still best take this offer with care.

Quinn pulled at Jeb’s reins and started leading him into the barn. “I gotta brush this boy down. Why don’t you help me get him settled, and we can talk.” He didn’t look back as he walked into the barn. Instead, he concentrated on trying to get his growing arousal under control, threatening his dick with a nice hard thump if it didn’t behave.

“Yes, sir.”

Once he had Jeb tied to the stall, he grabbed a couple of brushes, throwing one at the kid. “Got a name, kid?”

“Lorcan, sir. Lorcan James.” He began to groom Jeb like he knew what he was doing but mumbled under his breath what sounded like “Not a kid.”

“Well, Lorcan, I’m Quinn Taylor, and I guess if there’s anyone here at the ranch you should be inquiring about a job with, it’d be me. You got any experience with cattle?”

Lorcan continued to groom the horse, long, slim fingers following the path of the brush. Quinn couldn’t help but think that such delicate hands would look more at home on a piano’s keyboard than roping and ranching. Then, of course, there was that image that popped into his head for a fleeting second. The one that had his heart speeding up when he imagined how those fine, delicate hands would look even better wrapped around something a little hard and getting harder by the minute. He shook his head and walked over to the supply stall to get the sweet feed for Jeb, trying like hell not to be too obvious that he was having more than a little trouble walking right. Lucky enough for him, Lorcan was too busy concentrating on Jeb and what he was going to say next to notice him.

“Yes, sir. My family runs a dairy farm back home in Indiana.”

“Not too different from beef cattle, but no morning milking and a lot more bulls.”

He stared—okay, it was more like gawking—as Lorcan gave Jeb his cool-down. Quinn’s long experience in schooling his emotions and controlling the look on his face hid his arousal. An arousal that had his dick nearly punching through the denim of his jeans, his breath catching when the kid bent to clean Jeb’s hoofs. The man was a little too skinny, but the tight ass and long legs had Quinn struggling to control the tremors surging through his body. Quinn wasn’t sure if it was the fact that it had been so long since he’d had anything other than his hand for company at night or the fact that Lorcan was just that damn gorgeous. The way he moved as he encouraged Jeb to pick up each hoof, pushing into the animal with ease, he had the grace of a large cat.

He waited until all four hoofs were properly cleaned and inspected. He told himself he was watching the man so intently not because he was enjoying the way his dick pulsed or the way jolts of electricity raced through his veins but to make sure the guy knew what he was doing and didn’t cause Jeb any undue stress. Lorcan held out the grooming tools and looked at him expectantly, a question of “What next?” in those big, dark eyes.

Quinn looked down at the brush in his hand and embarrassingly realized he hadn’t helped with Jeb’s cool-down. He’d been too busy watching. He took the tools from Lorcan and returned them to the tack room, mentally chastising his lack of control, and grabbed Jeb’s reins. “Let me just turn Jeb out, and we’ll discuss this job you’re looking for over a bit of lunch.”

The kid looked like he was about to keel over from starvation and exhaustion, and wouldn’t that just be a last drop in the bucket? Henderson would have it turned around ’til he was accused of kidnapping and killing a beautiful, innocent boy. He turned the horse out, motioning for Lorcan to follow; he could use a bit of lunch himself, and hopefully he’d find a distraction from the wanderings of his naughty mind.

Tuesday, November 29, 2011

My Personal Review for Against the Storm by Kat Martin

Kat Martin released her latest romantic suspense book and part of her Raines of Wind Canyon series. Kat Martin delivers a sizzling tale of secrets, mystery and a romance so hot it will set your pages on fire. Get ready for AGAINST THE STORM.

Maggie O’Connell has a problem and she is scared to the bone. Someone is stalking her, sending menacing letters and phone calls. Maggie doesn’t know what to do but she has no idea what. Until she meets Trace Rawlins and finds this cowboy is much more than a pretty face. He is also in the security business and doesn’t take Maggie’s situation as a joke. But Trace is digging deep to figure out who is harassing Maggie and what he finds may end the fragile relationship that is building between them. Can Maggie let Trace in on the secrets of her past before Trace finds out? Can Trace, who has major trust issues, find a way to keep Maggie safe even as he stumbles head over heels in love with her?

Against The Storm is a fast paced, suspense story that will keep you on the edge of your seat till the very end.  This is a masterful author who knows how to tell a story and deliver just enough intrigue, romance and suspense to draw her readers in and leave them aching for more. The characters are intriguing and very well defined. The story is an edge of the seat roller coaster ride from start to finish. You really get a sense of who the characters are and that is the best part of this series. The author lets them shine in the story and the reader sees the person, vulnerabilities and all, within the pages. The story flowed nicely, writing was tight and the passion fairly leapt off the pages whenever Trace and Maggie were on the same page. 

 Trace is an ex-ranger, alpha male who has a weakness for red heads. Falling for Maggie was a no-no in his book but he couldn’t resist the temptation as he fell under her spell. I loved Trace. He was the sort of hero I fall in love with and I can honestly say, I wouldn’t mind him sweeping me off my feet any day. Maggie has secrets and trouble seems to find her, no matter where she is. Maggie is a woman who I really wanted to slap silly sometimes. She refused to tell Trace her secrets even as they caused her such grief when Trace found them out-not necessarily by her either. She made me so mad at times but then again, I understood her reasoning as well. She didn’t want to make it seem she was a drama queen or worse, a liar. But that is what Trace saw, especially as he demands honesty in every aspect of his life. Can Trace overcome his trust issues to have Maggie by his side? Can Maggie trust Trace to keep her safe? 

Against The Storm is one wonderful read from start to finish. I fell in love with the characters and felt the author did a great job in keeping them very life-like. There was a sweet sub-plot involving Maggie's sister, Ashley and I loved the way she lightened the book at times. I hope Ms. Martin continues with Ashley's story in future books. I would love to see how her romance with secondary character, Jason, is going. 
I can't wait to see what happens in the  next book, Against the Night. Ms. Martin has another winner here and it will keep you highly entertained till the very end. If you are looking for one of those stories that showcase mulch-dimensional characters, real life moments and a passion so hot it sizzles, then grab Against The Storm. Just make sure you don't have to make dinner or sleep as this will suck you in and not let you go until the very end.

My Rating for Against the Storm: 4 Stars

Find Against the Storm at Amazon, Barnes & Nobles and other stores around you.

Raines of Wind Canyon include:

1) Against the Wind
2) Against the Fire
3) Against the Law

*Please note all can be read as stand alone titles*

Monday, November 28, 2011

Guest Author Day with Gwen Campbell

The Look

A couple mornings ago, the alarm didn’t go off. Well, it did go off but the volume had drifted to nil (one of the hazards of hanging onto a clock radio for more than five years). Fortunately, my bladder is a fairly reliable clock.
Not the best sensation in the world…waking up with a full bladder then realizing you’re forty-five minutes late.
I immediately switched to high-prioritization mode, which shocked and impressed me to no end. My husband’s the one with the day job and I’m his chauffeur, so while he jumped in the shower, I threw on yesterday’s clothes and took the dog out for the shortest walk ever.
A bit of background here. Four years ago, we adopted a rescued dog. He’s terrific, but he has some quirks. One being urination and defecation are community bulletin board events. Meaning he’ll hold everything in until his eyes turn purple before he’ll do his business in our nice, private, fenced backyard, where nobody else can scent his manly presence. (And this from a neutered, senior dog.)
Okay, back to my story. The Big Black Dog (BBD) as we affectionately refer to him, thinks me tearing down the stairs, grabbing whichever coat has poop-bags in the pocket, and hooking up his collar and leash is an okay variation in the routine. Usually, my husband has the luxury of time (meaning yeah I know I take the longest showers humanly possible and the local water department sends me a fruit basket every Christmas) to spend with the BBD. During this early a.m. quality time, they chat about guy stuff, the BBD gets some treats, they take a leisurely walk, yadda, yadda.
This morning, I’m staggering out in the cold, bed head hair flopping in the wind. (Good thing the BBD has never minded morning breath.) So we get to the corner, he’s blissfully peed on one or two select trees, and I stop to tell him we’re going back.
Uh, no.
He holds his ground, legs braced, and doesn’t move. And at eighty-eight pounds, that’s a lot of doesn’t.
That’s when I get…the look.
The first one is him glancing over his shoulder at me, telegraphing the message “Surely you’re mistaken.” This is the morning walk, you see. Twenty minutes, minimum, of him sniffing, peeing, listening and looking around in the darkness. Twenty minutes of hedonistic dog time. So, of course, I’m mistaken about going back at this point.
I’m not. I repeat the command, trying for a firmer voice this time, which isn’t easy because morning breath has stuck parts of my tongue to the roof of my mouth.
That’s when I get…THE look.
Oh boy. This one says “No thank you very much we’re continuing on. To turn back now would be a complete rip-off, and against all known rules of man, nature and decency.”
If I had testicles, they would have shriveled.

But I don’t. I’m the boss. He’s the dog. Despite his indignation, it’s his nature to be obedient. He trusts me. I trust him. So, after a second or two of head and tail held at angles that clearly communicate his annoyance, he follows me back home.
Per usual, the BBD rides in the car with us when I take my husband to work. There’s some nice lawns and landscaping there and the BBD has never met an evergreen he didn’t love to pee on. It’s a special treat for him to be let out of the car and walked around there, and the BBD deserves a special treat today. Besides, I’d rather him pee on the company’s azaleas than my back seat.
Once we’re back home, the sky’s just starting to brighten and the BBD and I head out for a REAL walk. We cruise the sidewalks, he sniffs whatever he wants to, and we head for the small forest nearby. Because of the hour, there are actually other dog walkers out and about by then. We come across Little Max and his mum. (Max’s name is actually just Max, but there is more than one Max in the neighbourhood, so we need to differentiate. This Max is small, fluffy, white, and has the heart of a lion, so we don’t call him Little Max to his face.)
I wind up telling Little Max’s mum about our morning, and about The Look. She gets what I’m saying immediately, and tells me she’s been the recipient of a few herself. It makes me feel a whole lot less guilty when I realize every dog loves their routines, hates to be ripped off, and if you’ve invested enough time, patience and love in your dog, they’ll forgive and forget even the grossest breaches in the rules of man, nature, and decency.
I’m Gwen Campbell and I’d be tickled to have you drop me a line at If you visit my website, you’ll find a few pictures of the BBD (aka Lad) at

Sunday, November 27, 2011

Welcome Lisa Worrall Today

Welcome to Dawn’s Reading Nook, Lisa Worrall, Please let my cabana boys/girls get you a drink and make yourself at home. Comfortable? Great…now let’s get down to business.

Q: For the readers out there who might not know about you or your work, can you please tell them a little about yourself.

LW: I’m a single mother of two, a six and an eight year old who drive me to distraction, in an English seaside town that boasts the longest pleasure pier in the world ;)  I have an addiction to Pepsi Max and Supernatural and can be found most days with the latest season rolling behind my word documents at the bottom of the screen, so I can type and watch at the same time.  (I know, incredibly sad, but that’s how it is)

Q: How long have you been writing? What got you in to writing?
LW: I’ve been penning stories on and off ever since I could write, but have been doing it seriously for almost two years.  I got into it because RJ Scott had read some of my fanfiction and said that I should submit something, so I did and away we go!

Q: Where do you get your ideas for your stories, characters?
LW: I tend to start out with the names to be honest.  Then the story builds around the names and the characters develop from there.

Q: Are you a by-the-seat-of-your-pants kind of writer, or do you have to use an outline to put your collective thoughts into some semblance of common sense?
LW: I can never be arsed to write an outline – so definitely seat of the pants, music on, earphones plugged in and they take me where they want to go.

Q: Tell us all about your latest or upcoming release. What inspired it?
LW: My upcoming release is Unshakeable Faith with Dreamspinner Press.  The premise of the story itself, i.e. the whole having amnesia, building a life and then regaining your original memory and forgetting the life you’d made, was inspired by my favorite film of all time… a movie made in 1940 (I think) called Random Harvest, starring Greer Garson and Ronald Coleman.  The rest of the story is mine.
In Unshakeable Faith we have Brody Tyler taking a chance on a man with no name and no memory, giving him a home and a job, and quickly falling in love.  Then their world is ripped apart by a hit and run and Nash’s memory is reset, giving him back the life he lost and erasing his time with Brody.

The fly in the ointment is the fact that Nash is a high powered businessman and it quickly becomes evident that neither of the attacks on him, were accidental.  Entering Brody Tyler, accidental bodyguard, looking for any excuse to be near his lover, who is sure will remember him any minute.  But the longer it takes for Nash to regain his memory… the more attempts on his life that are made… and Brody runs the risk of losing him forever.

Q: If you had super powers, what would they be? Why?
LW:  X-Ray vision and the ability to turn myself into Jensen Ackles’ loofah 

Q: What genre haven’t you tried yet but want to in the future?
LW:  I’m really happy in the M/M genre, I love it.  Although I have a couple of girlfriends bugging me to write some het, so we’ll see.

Q: What is one thing readers might be surprised to know about you?

LW: I could pick out the tennis player, Stefan Edberg’s bottom out of a line up.

Q: If we asked your muse to describe you in three words, what do you think they might say?

LW: Sexy, sassy, bitch.

Q: What authors can be found in your library of books (print, audio or e-books)?

LW:  Ooooh, Stephen King ( I adore Mr King), Sue Brown, Patricia Logan, Andrew Grey, TJ Klune ( who is phenomenal), Lee Brazil and lots of others.

Q: Have any guilty pleasures you want to share with us?

Come Dine With Me…an English show where five strangers each have to cook a meal over five nights and score each other so one of them wins £1000 J

Q: Is there anything you’re currently working on that you can give us a taste of?

My current WIP is sent in the fictitious town of Freedom, Iowa.  Ash Watts is a reporter in LA and his world comes crashing down when his sister, Annie, is killed in a car accident.  He finds himself traveling to Freedom, where he encounters Kaleb Gibson, an honest to God cowboy with the prettiest blue eyes and an attitude, three elderly women known as The Coven, and a small town that opens his eyes and takes him to their hearts.  Not to mention a secret his sister had been keeping from him that will turn his ordered life upside down.

A little teaser…..

“You won’t be hungry for long, there’re some little old ladies inside just waiting to fatten you up.” 
Ash found himself standing on his own and brushed aside the sudden feeling of loss when Kaleb removed his arms and strode back to the truck to grab Ash’s suitcase out of the back.  Following Kaleb up the stone steps to the porch, he raised an eyebrow.  “When you say little old ladies, you mean nice grandmotherly types who want to pinch my cheek and call me dear, right?  Not fatten you up and make a pie out of you little old ladies,” his tone was hopeful and his gaze narrowed at the all too gleeful look that Kaleb threw at him before he opened the front door.
“Now that would spoil the surprise.”

Q: When creating your characters, do you have models in mind or are they totally fictional?

LW: I would like to say that my main characters don’t look like my two favorite actors, but I can’t.  They are starting to look a lot different and not everyone has green eyes, much to my CP’s relief J

Q: Are you in control of your characters or do they control you?

LW:  OMG, totally control me.  They stamp their feet, cross their arms and scream until they’re sick, if I attempt to take them somewhere they don’t want to go.

Q: If you came with a warning label, what would it say?

LW: If you light the touch paper – stand well back.

Q: Please tell us where we can find you on the web.

Twitter: Lisa_Worrall
Facebook: Lisa Worrall Author

Thanks for popping by and I wish you continued success in your writing career.

LW:  Thank you for having me J

Unshakeable Faith by Lisa Worrall

Of all the bars in all the towns in all the world, the stranger walks into Brody Tyler’s. With no memory and a name he chose from a newspaper, Nash is a gamble—one Brody is willing to take. It isn’t long before Brody and Nash fall in love, but then a tragic accident shatters their cozy world, resetting Nash’s memory once again.

The “new” Nash Walker is a businessman with a bottom line, and he doesn’t care what or who gets stomped on. Waking up in a hospital bed after a hit-and-run with no idea where he’s been for the past six months is bad enough, but someone trying to kill him is even worse. Enter Brody Tyler, accidental bodyguard.

Brody’s determined to help Nash remember and bring back the man he loves. Nash thinks Brody’s a drop-dead gorgeous pain in the ass. If only he could remember….

“You thought what?” Nash drawled, lowering his voice to a silky-smooth drawl, curling his fingertips over the edge of Brody’s waistband, brushing against the bare skin there. “You wanna pick up where we left off, Mr. Bodyguard?” Ignoring the scream of What the fuck are you doing? in his ear, Nash leaned closer so that his breath fanned out across Brody’s lips. “Well, you did save my life, after all; maybe you should get a reward. Oh, wait a minute.” His tone was cruel, maybe crueler than he had intended by the way the other man visibly flinched, as if Nash’s words were pointed barbs. “It’s what I pay you for. Sorry, Brody, but I guess we both dodged a bullet tonight.” He stepped back and let his gaze travel insolently over Brody’s body. “I make it a rule not to fuck the help.” He walked casually up the stairs with the heat of Brody’s stunned gaze on him the whole way.
Inside his room, Nash undressed to his boxers and slid between the sheets. He closed his eyes as he settled against his pillows, and started when Brody’s door slammed across the hall. He sighed heavily and tried not to analyze why he felt so empty, or the pang of remorse he’d felt at the bewildered hurt he’d seen in Brody’s eyes. He was Nash Walker, he didn’t feel remorse. He couldn’t afford to, and no stupid, big Brody Tyler was going to make him feel otherwise.

Saturday, November 26, 2011

My Personal Review for Love Means...Healing by Andrew Grey

Whenever I pick up one of Andrew Grey's books, I find myself falling more in love with his wonderful stories. There is a feeling you are coming home after being away for awhile.

Love Means...Healing is the sixth book in the Farm Series and one I was absolutely unprepared for. You will laugh, mourn, smile and sigh as you read this  novella about Len Parker as he tries to get back on with his life after losing his partner of twenty years, Cliff.

Welcome back to the Farm and get ready for a heartbreaking story of loss, grief and finally, love.

I have got to admit, whenever I pick up one of Andrew Grey’s books, I always get that feeling of coming home, no matter what. The stories he creates are full of emotion that pull the reader in from the beginning. This is an author who is a masterful storyteller and knows how to draw his readers in from the moment they open one of his books. 
Mr. Grey does a wonderful job in conveying Len’s emotions as he grieves and slowly begins to heal even as his heart tries to tell him that there is another person out there who needs his love as well. The characters are like old friends to me now and I was thrilled to see them all again. Mr. Grey has a knack in creating memorable characters that steal your heart within a matter of minutes with a wink and a smile. 

This is a series that will leave you breathless at the end and eager for more. Love Means...Healing will deliver a roller coaster of a ride for the reader. One minute you are mourning the loss of Cliff and the next smiling as Len finds he can love again as his heart heals. I was dismayed when it ended and had to run off to the author's website to see when the next farm story is coming out. Now that I got my fix again, I am finding I need more of this wonderful series. :-)

Love Means...Healing is a story of loss and love. Of finding that the heart can love again. Mr. Grey is a fantastic storyteller who knows how to weave a spell around his readers and lets his character rich stories shine. I am eager to see what happens next on the farm and hope December gets here very soon. :-)

My Rating for Love Means...Healing: 4 Stars

Find Andrew's Love Means...Healing at Dreamspinner Press

Welcome Lila Munro Today

Building Block or Stumbling Block?

I’d like to thank Dawn for having me over today. She’s a real trooper in inviting people into her space for everything from guest posts to blatant promotion. I’ve been over a few times in recent months either alone or with a group that I was involved in anthology writing with, and I thought today I’d stir things up and do an actual informative piece, well, I guess it borders on opinion. But nonetheless. J
Seems like one of the most frequently asked questions when a writer is interviewed is what our writing advice is to others or newer writers. One of the most shocking forms of this question came to me once in the form of how important is grammar and spelling…ummm. This question seemed odd to me at first, then slapped me in the face and demanded an answer. How could it not be the most important thing? Grammar and spelling are the building blocks of writing. They are the very foundation in fact. We are supposed to learn this from an early age. Let's just put aside the fact that I write romance novels for a living for a bit. Grammar and spelling are not just important in the world of books and publication. They are important in writing of all types. Letters, professional correspondence, research papers, letters to the editor, even filling out an application for employment, and the list goes on. These all demand appropriate grammar and spelling.

Now, as I have had to frequently do lately, here is my "disclaimer" of sorts. Before I go any further, let it be known that I am my own worst enemy when it comes to writing. I am far, far from perfect or from being an expert. I am not claiming to be perfect or an expert, I am merely expounding on some simple observations. Believe me, I am the first one to sweep my own door step. Furthermore, this is not targeted at anyone personally, therefore do not self-patronize or brood because you become paranoid. If you find yourself questioning your own writing ability follow the old adage "if the shoe fits, wear it."

While it may be true writers have editors to watch their backs, these ladies and gentlemen are not miracle workers, nor are they magicians. Line reading and marking mistakes takes time. I would much rather save my editors time on these mistakes that I can easily fix for myself and allow him or her their precious time to work on the meat of my story. I want to know if my story holds water, if my plot makes sense, and if my characters are fully developed. What editor has time for that against a deadline when they have to worry if I used my commas properly and if I know the difference between they're, their, and there? And just a bit of clarification…commas are my worst enemy and my editor and I at Rebel are still trying to figure out how an English major can’t figure out where to put one of those wiley buggers. Back to the question…what editor has that kind of time? They don't. That's why so many mistakes are left behind flying just under the radar screen ripe and ready for a reader to pick out and get annoyed with. Or a reviewer to find and tell the entire world about.

If you're a writer and you constantly get edits back for poor grammar and spelling, take it upon yourself to fix your inadequacy. It's very simple really. The internet is full of resources for learning the basics of the proper use of grammar. If you're really industrious, go sign up for a basic English class at your local community college. If you are indeed listing writing as your profession on your taxes, I'm sure it can probably be used as a business expense, although the tax code changes so frequently one never knows, so don't quote me on that. I don't claim to be a tax expert. There's another organization that could use some lessons in conveying thought to paper, the IRS. If all else fails, and spelling is your issue, for God sake buy a dictionary. If you cannot afford one, well, Google one, I know everyone knows how to do that.

So, building block or stumbling block? Which is it for you? If you find yourself stumbling, figure out why. Nothing says I'm a professional like a solid foundation. If you're lacking, shore yours up.
Now, I’m sure I left a comma error in there somewhere. And it’s okay to point it out to me, as I said I’m certainly not perfect.  With Dawn’s permission, I’d like to share a bit about my latest release now...Three for Keeps…

Zoey Matthews is in love. She’s been in love since the day she was dropped off by a social worker at yet another foster home on a back country road miles from nowhere, Missouri. At age ten, she met the men of her dreams. Over the course of sixteen years, Dane Cardwell, Jack Devereux and Ryan Wilkins fell in love with her, too. They’ve each told her they love her, they’ve shown her and each man has gone so far as to ask her to marry him. But what they don’t know is Zoey loves them all.

Her game of kiss and not tell all comes crashing down around her the night of her graduation from veterinary school and Zoey runs for the mountains. Of Colorado. Hoping to outrun her obsession with three men and forget them all together, she stays gone for ten years. But the wound has never healed. In fact, it's done nothing but fester. Needing to clear the air, Zoey agrees to spend a few days back home with the boys never imagining it would turn into a week filled with comparison sex as Dane, Jack and Ryan each try to get Zoey to choose between them and their varied tastes.

When she finally tells the truth, a truth only one of them has known all along, Zoey fears the foursome will never be able to make a sharing relationship work. After all, aren't there just too many personalities and desires to sort through? Add in the kink factor and things get really complicated. Zoey’s not convinced the truth has any merit, but there's one thing she knows for sure…this time she's playing for keeps.

Please enjoy a short excerpt:

“How long has this been going on?” Zoey asked hanging her bag over the door.
“How long has what been going on?” Jack looked everywhere but at her.
“This vigil.” She waved a hand around the room. “This shrine.”
“It’s been here since you left. We did all this as a graduation gift. We thought you might come home, you’d need a place until…” Jack stopped and took a breath. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“For driving you away.”
Jack turned and left her standing there with her mouth hanging open.
How on earth could that man ever think for a minute he’d driven her away? He’d never once hinted that he held any guilt over what happened. Zoey didn’t blame him, not in the least. It was a moment of weakness on both their parts and in that moment was when she figured out she couldn’t live with one of them and couldn’t live without them all. So she’d put on her coward’s cape and fled, but not before confessing everything to Jack between crying spells.
Zoey pulled her cap off and tossed it on the sink then tugged her tank top up and over her head letting it fall to the floor. She glanced in the mirror at the artwork that Ryan hadn’t seen as she unsnapped her bra and tossed it on top of her shirt. After toeing off her ropers she shed her jeans and stood there in nothing more than a pink G-string brushing her hair out.
“Zoey Matthews,” Ryan growled and sent her a few inches off the floor squealing. “Oh my God. That fuckin’ hummin’bird wasn’t all of it? What the fuck? Jesus Christ!”
Before Zoey could cover herself, Ryan was in the bathroom with her spinning her in a circle looking her over from head to toe. His eyes lingered a while on the wild stallions galloping across her lower back.
“Who the hell did you let do that?” he demanded, pointing at her nipple.
“None of your business,” she said. “I told you earlier, I’m grown.”
That piercing had come on the heels of a stint with a bull rider who liked to play rough. Zoey found she liked a little rough too and after a few too many Patrons one night had had one of the vendors administer a little gold ring in her right breast. Of course what her next lover never knew was that the whole time he was flicking that little gold ring with his tongue she was imagining someone else’s tongue rattling her cage.
“And I told you I could see that.”
Zoey opened her mouth to give him an earful but before one word escaped her Ryan had run his hands up her nape and grabbed two handfuls of her hair, wrapping it around his fists, then literally devoured her mouth. She couldn’t breathe, she couldn’t move, hell she couldn’t even think. Desperate was the only way to describe what Ryan was doing. He bit, sucked, licked and inhaled her over and over again until they were both breathless, forehead to forehead heaving for air.
“Ryan?” she gasped.
“Shut up, Zoey.”
That was all he had to say before feasting on her mouth again then moving down and grabbing her little gold ring with his teeth and tugging until a zip of pain ran out and across her breast sending her heart into an irregular rhythm and her clit into a spasm.
“Oh, shit,” she squeaked.
“I’d have never guessed, Zoey. Why didn’t you ever tell me?” he breathed across her throat before taking her earlobe and grating it between his teeth.
“There’s a lot of things you don’t know, Ryan,” she groaned.
“I want to know, baby. All of it.”
“No you don’t.” Zoey squirmed and pulled away. “Stop, Ryan. I can’t…”
“Goddamn it, Zoey. Shit!” Ryan backed up and ran his hands over his head. “I’m sorry. I…that’s not what I came up here for. I was supposed to ask if you were hungry.”
Thanks to you and Jack I’m starved.
“No, thanks anyway.” Zoey yanked her G-string down, threw it at him and got in the shower.
If you’d like to keep up with me I can be found at
Thanks, Dawn for allowing me to take over your blog today!

Welcome Amylea Lyn

Edits: The good, the bad, and the… did I actually write that?

As an author, there is nothing I love more then sitting down at my computer and recording the words racing through my mind, breathing life to my characters, and finally, finishing a manuscript. Writing feeds my soul, my heart, and lets my inner demons rest after hounding me for months at a time while I toiled away at my story, forsaking both necessary sleep and family dinners to produce a work I would be proud to claim. And once the story is finished, comes the heart wrenching task of finding the manuscript a proper home with a publisher; then there are the days (and sometimes weeks) of waiting to hear back from said publisher and worrying about rejections. Finally, the news comes; you’re books been accepted and you’re being published!
So that’s the end of it, right?
Weeks later, I get an email from someone claming to be my “editor” and then it dawns on me… the real work is about to begin.
LOL. Truthfully, I have had no problem with any of the editors I’ve been assigned. They are miracle workers, and I would never be able to put out the quality work I do without them.
Nope, the only complaints I have about the editing process is with myself.
I look at the words I’ve written, and sometimes I just have to cock my head and wonder: Did I actually write that? I mean, how in the hell did I turn what was supposed to be a beautiful and touching love scene into something dirty and confusing?
Don’t understand what I mean? Let me give you an example from one of my earlier works, Dream a Little Dream.

“He sat up, pulling Jake away from devouring Cael’s mouth and into a bruising kiss, sharing the flavor of their lover. Jake moaned, hot tongue invading Aiden’s mouth to lap at any remaining cream. Cael moaned, arching up between them, his small hands slowly moving over the muscles of each man’s chest and belly.”

Sounds pretty good, doesn’t it? Well, here’s how it started out before the edits happened:

“He sat up, pulling him away from devouring Cael’s mouth and into a bruising kiss, sharing the flavor of their lover. Jake moaned, hot tongue invading his mouth to lap at any remaining cream and Cael moaned, arching up between them, small hands slowly moving over the muscles of the men’s chest and belly.”

A bit confusing, right? Thankfully, I’m able to catch most of the edits on my own when I real through them, but things like perspective changes, and keeping it clear exactly which “him” I’m referring to when writing at story with two or more male characters can be difficult on the first draft. That’s where the editors become invaluable. But sometimes when I go back and read over the original copy of my manuscript I just have to shake my head.

Did I really write “he reached a peek of pleasure” instead of “he reached a peak of pleasure” and used the word “gently” something like forty-three times throughout the story?
Yep, I certainly did, and without edits, you would all be reading my shame. LOL.
I feel much more comfortable now as I begin edits on my sixth book, I’m much more realistic about the edits needed, and I find simple mistakes happen less and less. But as much as I’d like to claim my edits are a breeze and I barely need them anymore, it’s not the truth. I try work on edits with the passion and determination I had while writing the book, especially now that I realize how valuable they are.
So I have to say, as much as I loath them, as much as it’s a completely soul sucking experience, and I want to cry and bang my head against the desk by the time I’m done… edits serve a very important purpose in writing.
I mean really, who wants to read a book where every other page the reader has to stop themselves and ask, um what do you think the author meant in this scene?
Thanks to edits, my books wont have to be one of those that the reader thinks, did she really write just that?
Edits and I are not friends, but were no longer enemies either.

-Amylea Lyn


Amylea’s website:

Blurb from my recent release, Nature of the Beast:

The City is a cold, sterile place. What lies Outside it?

Raine O'Kelly has a gift. The very power of nature is his to command. When his gift lands him in trouble with the government, Raine find himself thrown into The Prison; one of the most feared punishment for those citizens who wont conform to The City's ideals.

Abused, scared, and slowly dying of deprivation from the one thing his body truly needs, an accident lands him in the infirmary, which leads him to be given to The Prison’s most feared inmate… The Beast.

When The Beast defends him from the guards, Raine finds himself inexplicably drawn to the misunderstood man. A man with unique abilities of his own, the Beast’s animalistic desires forms a connection between them that cannot be denied. When he learns The Beast comes from Outside the City, is Raine willing to take the chance on escape with the mysterious man?

Escape wont be easy, and there are dangers waiting for them on The Outside, ready to strike at the fragile relationship between the two men. When The Beast’s past come’s to light, will Raine be able to put aside his own fears in order to fight for the life the two of them could have together? Or will he fold under the pressure?

Will he get his happily ever after?

Or will he become just another victim of the Nature of the Beast.

Excerpt from Nature of the Beast:

The others were near. He could smell them, mortal men, hunting him. The stench of their hunger clung to their skins. At one time, he would have called them friend, perhaps even lover, but now they were the enemy, chasing him through the trees, waiting for the perfect opportunity to pounce.

How had his life come to this? A leader among his people, a prophet, guardian and protector; how had he become the prey? He couldn't remember anymore. He knew only fire and pain, the Betrayer's scent clinging to the inside of his nostrils, burning into his soul so he would never forget.

Never ever forget his life was over, thanks to one traitor; someone who he never expected to betray him.

One of his own.

The humans gained ground, and he began to tire. He could practically feel the heat of their torches against his back. The scent of their sweat, stale and bitter, overlapping the once joyous and soothing aroma of the lush forest around them. Gleeful shouts echoed in the wood and all others dwellers were silent; each small animal hiding deep in their burrows, laying silent witness to his last desperate flight.

He knew the woods, deep in his soul he recognized his little earth sister, but his mind went blank. Everything he rushed past, each tree and shrub, every flora and fauna, had at one time been familiar to him. Now everything he saw swirled together in a mash of greens and browns, nothing distinct or unique. He didn't even know his name anymore, only the fact he had once been a man of great importance, and that he had been betrayed by someone he should have been able to trust.

Everything else had vanished.

He'd woken in an unknown clearing, his mind a daze as pain and confusion racked his body. How had he gotten to the middle of the forest? What had happened?

He lifted a hand to his aching head, only to find his hair matted with blood; little drops dripping down the back of his neck. His tongue felt thick and uncoordinated in his mouth, making swallowing seem impossible. The cool night air drifted across his naked skin, leaving him shivering without his clothes and boots. A scent covered him, one he instinctively knew belonged to the person responsible for his unfortunate circumstances, and he growled in fear and anger.

Shouts suddenly filled the air and a half-dozen men raced into the clearing, torches lighting the glade and glinting off dangerous weapons. He could smell the aggression, hate, and fear clinging to their unwashed bodies, and shuddered visibly at the sight of the vermin wriggling in their ratted and matted beards.

He didn't stick around to find out why they were after him. Instead, he ran.

Over rocks and roots. Through bushes and over small streams. A desperate flight to a safer place, one just out of reach of his conscious mind. If he could get a little further, evade his hunters a bit longer, he would be free.

It wasn't meant to be.

He tripped over an unseen root, landing with a pained grunt on the forest floor, leaves and twigs poking the sensitive skin along his front. He tried to get up, to run again, but something large and heavy landed on his back. The stench of his pursuers overwhelmed him; he couldn't get up, trapped and caught.

But he wouldn't go without a fight.

He bucked up, managing to unsettle the man on his back, and then turned over to slash at him with his claws. Fear and desperation fueled him and he racked across the man's face, something primal and angry rejoicing in the bleeding man's screams. He stood, slashing at another, then another, growling and snarling at them, jerking back from the torches thrust in his direction.

Kill, kill, kill. His mind became a haze of aggression, an inner animal bursting forth. Kill, kill, kill!

"He's shifting!" A flurry of movement followed the hollered warning.

Something thick and wooden slammed into his back, possibly a tree branch, stunning him for a moment, only for a short while but enough for the others to act. Something cracked, sudden and loud, leaving a burning trail of fire blossoming on his side. Another loud sound split the air, this one right on center, causing him to double over with a howl as fire seemed to bloom and spread from his midsection upward to his chest and down toward his feet, leaving him numb.

He fell, body twitching, as another object slammed into him, pain blossoming in his shoulder. His body felt heavy, the world becoming disorientated and blurry around him. He fell like a tree to the forest floor, not even able to cry out in agony as the numbness robbed him of speech.

Dark shapes moving around him, circling like a pack of wolves. He tried to get up and defend himself, but his strength continued to wane and he couldn't raise his head off the ground, let alone fight off his attackers. As his world started to go dark, he heard one of the hunters speak, and sent a silent prayer to whatever unknown god may be listening.

"The boss wants him gone. Let's get him tied up and back to the city…"


Get Ready for Chloe Neil's Newest Book, Wild HUnger & a Giveaway

Get ready to return to Chicagoland vampires as Chloe Neil returns to her beloved paranormal series with a spin-off featuring Elisa Sull...