Monday, November 30, 2015


It's that time again...

I hope everyone had a fantastic and restful Thanksgiving weekend. Maybe you braved the crowds on Black Friday or hit up the internet for great deals. I'm hoping you too a little time to read something just for fun but if not, I have the perfect thing for you...Chapter 5 of Down The Dirt Road... Jennie is learning that even the best laid plans often go astray...

The sun hung low in the sky by the time Jennie made her way back to the house from the barn. Momma sat on the wide front porch bathed in cool, welcoming shade. A pitcher of ice cold, fresh lemonade on the round glass topped table, condensation running down the sides and pooling on the glass. Chunks of lemon and a half dozen or so raspberries floated in the pale yellow liquid. Jennie’s mouth watered at the thought of the sweet tartness passing over her tongue and cooling her overheated body from the inside out. Momma sure always knew the right thing to do.

     “You look beat, Jennie girl. This heat’s too strong to stay out in it for so long.”

    Momma looked plenty exhausted herself; eyes red rimmed, black smudges that ran deep beneath them. Momma still hadn’t been sleeping. Jennie sighed as she dropped into the other chair.

    “Don’t worry Momma. I spent most of the day in the barn, away from the sun. Had a lot of cleaning to do in there.”

     “You know, sweet pea, I can hire someone to keep things running for a while. Your Daddy left us enough life insurance to get us through the rough patch.”

     “I’m fine, Momma. Keep the money in the bank. I can handle it.”

    The work kept her busy. Focusing on the animals and the chores occupied her mind and discouraged heavy thinking.

     She poured a glass of the lemonade. Condensation ran down her arm leaving streaks in the dust and dirt that had accumulated on her skin during the day. The ice cold liquid chilled her throat and worked its magic on her insides. She drank the whole glass down in one long swallow.  Momma watched with disapproval but she didn’t say anything about manners or lady like behavior. Propriety seemed to have gone with Daddy to the netherworld.

     “What about when you go off to school next week?’

      “I’ve been thinkin’ ‘bout that all day. I’m pretty sure I’ve got enough credits to graduate now.  I’m gonna go in and see my guidance counselor tomorrow.  See ‘bout early graduation and skippin’ my senior year.”

   Sadness filled Momma’s eyes again.  “But what about college? Your future?  Your dreams?”

  Jennie’s skin prickled with angst as Momma asked the questions she knew she would but hoped she wouldn’t.

     Her voice was firm when she spoke again.  “This is my future now, Momma.  The farm—you—need me here.”

    “Your whole life, all you ever talked about was getting out of here.”

    “My whole life I expected Daddy to live forever.”   

    Jennie’s words hung in the air between them, suspended by the sadness that enveloped them constantly the past few days since John Marshall had passed. There was no disputing that his death had changed their lives and the sadness had become as much for themselves as for him.

Neither one of them spoke for a long time. The sun continued to set beyond the horizon and dusk began to settle in around them. From down by the pond, a bull frog croaked, initiating a cacophony of crickets, cicadas and beetles that serenaded them as they sat. 

    “There has to be another way, Jennie girl. I mean, I never wanted you to leave but now I don’t see how you could stay. Your Daddy’s death shouldn’t change your whole life.”

    “But it did, Momma.  Don’t you see that it already has? I’m sorry Momma. But things have changed now. All we got is each other and Daddy’s dreams. This farm was his life, his dream. It’s all we have left of him.”

   “But what about your dreams, sweet pea?”

   “I’ll make new dreams. You had dreams when you were my age but you spent a lifetime here with Daddy. Farm life was good enough for you. It will be good enough for me too.”

    “I fell in love with your father. Love makes people do things they wouldn’t have imagined doing on their own. I willingly gave up my plans because I wanted to be with John.  He was a farmer, it was in his blood. He hated going to the factory every morning, he couldn’t wait to get home and get outside with the animals and the hay fields. I wanted to be with him and he needed to be here. But you aren’t making your decisions willingly. You are trying to live your father’s life for him and he wouldn’t want that for you.”

    “If he cared so much about what I wanted he wouldn’t have left us.”

    The words left her mouth before she had the chance to even think about biting them back. She felt horrible instantly and the look of raw pain on her Momma’s face caused a surge of guilt to well up from deep within her gut.

    “I’m sorry, Momma. I shouldn’t have said that. I don’t seem to have much control over my tongue these days.”

    Momma reached across the small table and placed a hand on her only daughter’s arm.  “Your father was so proud of you. From the day you were born, pride oozed from his pores whenever he held you. You were the first thing he thought of when he woke and the last thing we talked about before he fell asleep. He had high hopes for his baby girl and it would sadden him greatly to know that you are going to give up everything to stay here. Selfishly, I want you with me. I don’t want to be alone. I can’t do the things your Daddy did or that you can do. So, I say, do what you think is right.”

      The hand on Jennie’s arm began to shake in slight tremors. Momma yanked her arm back and dropped it into her lap, fear in the green eyes so much like her daughter’s for the briefest of moments. An odd sensation washed over Jennie. Something wasn’t quite right, she could feel it but Momma’s expression had become shuttered. Jennie recognized the look- she wouldn’t be getting any answers to any questions that night. Their conversation was over.

     She stood and stretched. Her back ached and her muscles were sore. After Michael had left, she threw herself into mucking out the stalls, replacing the hay bales and doing some general organizing in the messy barn space. Daddy was a good man but neat and organized he wasn’t.

    “I’m gonna take a hot shower, Momma.” Her stomach rumbled loudly as she picked up her empty lemonade glass and made her way toward the door to the house.

    “Maybe you should eat something first, sweet pea. You haven’t eaten much more than a finch does since… since… in a few days.” Elise’s voice broke as she tried not to have the say the words. Jennie knew exactly how she felt. The word dead was so final and if she refrained from voicing it then maybe John Marshall wasn’t actually gone for good. Her ears automatically strained to listen for his old Ford coming up the rutted lane.

    The truck.

     She had been ignoring Daddy’s truck for almost a week. It still sat in the drive in front of the house exactly where he had last parked it on the day he gave her a ride home. She resisted the urge to throw rocks at it and curse. Its very presence reminded her that she had been so wrapped up in her own problems that she hadn’t even noticed that Daddy was dying. It couldn’t stay there. She couldn’t walk by it each day, a constant reminder of his absence. Maybe tomorrow she would drive it out behind the house; park it by the old tool shed in the corner of the hay field. Yes, that’s what she would do.  It would become a memorial out there, a memorial to the man that had so lovingly cared for it for so many years, believing in its solidarity and refusing to tarnish its reputation by replacing it with a shiny new one.

     “I’m still not OK with you not going to college.” Momma called to her softly from the shadows.

    “I’ll take some courses at the community college, OK?” She called back just as softly.

    “OK. It’s a start. We will talk about the rest another time.” Momma’s voice had become barely more than a whisper. There was so much sadness in her words, it just about broke Jennie’s heart.

    “OK, Momma.” Nothing her mother could say would change her mind. She knew what she had to do and going off to college wasn’t part of that plan any more. “I’m gonna go wash up and grab something to eat.”

     “I’ll be there in a bit, dear. I want to sit out here with your father for a little while.”

     In the days since John Marshall’s death, Elise had taken to sitting on the front porch in the evening hours. She claimed she felt closer to him. John loved the outdoors, maybe it did bring them closer, her sitting out there like that. aWho was she to judge- didn’t she spend her days in the barn with the animals?
    The only thing she planned on judging now was how hot the water was in the shower and how comfortable her bed was. 




Thursday, November 26, 2015

Big Time Win

I'm taking a step away today from the usual theme of this blog. It's obvious I love books and I am forever grateful for all the goodness that has come my way this past year in regards to reading, writing and everything in between. Today, though, I'd like to talk about something different.

When I started this journey years ago, I was scribbling pages on a legal pad while I sat in an empty lab watching a reactor spin. In those days I worked in chemical engineering research and although I am still proud of the projects I worked on, the truth is the days had potential to be very long and very uneventful. Often when I was running a "batch" of whatever my boss wanted to see, I would have to sit there and literally watch it for hours. Sometimes things could go bad and it was imperative that an eye be kept on the equipment at all times. And so my first story, a full length serial killer murder mystery was born. I'd scribble it on the notebook and type it up at home that night. That, my friends was fifteen years ago.

Over the years since I'd dabble in writing on occasion but it wasn't until about five years ago that the bug really hit. I couldn't get the words down fast enough. When I finally decided to think about getting published it was a frightening endeavor. A lot of work, a lot of rejection. And, the best part? A lot of support. Friends, family, you know who you are.

I could never have done it without the support.

For my husband and my kids, I know it hasn't always been easy. I spend a lot of time on the computer, trying to meet deadlines while cooking dinner or helping with homework. I've still got that pesky day job, so often I am having to choose between writing and whatever else needs doing. The men in my house, they take it all in stride and I love them for it.

In the last year and a half I have been blessed to meet many, many talented authors and bloggers and artists. It is a world like I'd never imagined. My two favorite books are written by two authors that are relatively unknown in the literary world but believe me, it won't stay that way. My eyes have opened to whole new subset of writers, the indie and small press writers that would absolutely blow you away if you knew what they were able to create with the written word. This is why I have begun my #FeatureFriday and Tuesday release posts. You NEED to know what is out there!

Then there is the undying support and love writers have for each other. There are people literally all over this world that I have not met that make an effort to share and promote not only my books but any book by any writer looking for their place on the shelves. It is an amazing, selfless business.

I have new friends and old friends to be thankful for this year. A supportive and loving family, a roof over my head, food to eat, clothes to wear and a working laptop. Even if I never make it to the big time, I have already won. Big Time.

Happy Thanksgiving to you and yours. May the next year be full of blessings.

Wednesday, November 25, 2015

An Amazing New Cover Reveal

= = ‪#‎CoverReveal‬ = =
FROG HOLLOW by Savannah Blevins
Series: Witches of Sanctuary #1
Publisher: Limitless Publishing
Release Date: January 5, 2016
COVER DESIGNER: Deranged Doctor
= = SYNOPSIS = =
It’s a sign. No one is safe.

At just twenty-two years old, Wilhelmina Daniels inherits a house, a family of eclectic witches, and a death sentence on the same day. As revealed by Reid Thomas, her shy but smoldering neighbor, Wilhelmina is a descendent of the Innocent—a line of gifted women who are to be admired, feared, and above all else, protected.

Death, mayhem, and The Haunted...

The murder of Wilhelmina’s mother—the family matriarch—sends the small town’s rumor-mill into a frenzy. Suspicions fall on The Haunted, a rival force with dual personalities, one of them beingJulien Cote.

It's difficult to believe the charming boy has a sexual deviant with a hankering for violence lurking inside. 

Rumor has it Julien can seduce an angel out of her wings. Wilhelmina doesn't have wings, but if he calls her cheri d'amour one more time, she's liable to lose something of equal importance—her heart. But with Reid hailing from her clan, will she stay close to her own, or venture into the unknown?

Even a powerful spell can’t seal Julien’s fate…

Julien knows an incantation that just might help Wilhelmina to solve her mother's death, but when an unidentified stalker is spotted spying in her house, her family is certain it's Julien’s dangerous alter ego come out to play.

Wilhelmina must decide—is risking her life worth the possible heartbreak of discovering the truth about Julien’s fate and her mother’s death? Or will she cast aside her desire for Julien and vow her love to Reid.

Leaving her past forever buried in the murky depth of…Frog Hollow
Savannah was born in Hyden, Kentucky. She received her M.S in Speech Language Pathology from The University of Mississippi in 2009. She’s been writing since the early age of nine when she begged her parents for a type writer for Christmas.
She now lives in Corbin, Ky with her husband of eight years, John, and their two wonderful daughters, Delilah and Gracie.
When she isn’t working, or running after her kids, she spends her free time traveling the country with her husband. There is nothing better than a day of football in the grove, a late night of basketball at Rupp Arena or slapping the glass to celebrate another Washington Capitals goal.
She is a strong believer that with enough hard work and determination you can accomplish anything.

Monday, November 23, 2015

#FreeReadMonday Chapter 4 and a Surprise For My Readers!

Welcome back for the next installment of Down The Dirt Road. If you are joining us for the first time this week, you can catch up with the first three chapters here:

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

At the end of this post, I have a little surprise for all of you. Let me know what you think of it!

                                                           Chapter 4
   It was another sweltering day. Less than twenty-four hours after Daddy’s funeral it was like the rain had never happened. Jennie mopped at the sweat on her brow with one of Daddy’s red kerchiefs he always kept on the work bench in the barn. There was no time to lock herself in her room and cry like Momma did. The animals needed feeding and the chores needed doing.  Daddy always said the cure for a sad soul was hard work. Well her soul was as sad as could be and there was plenty of work to be done.
   One of the horses whinnied softly in his stall. The other neighed in response. As old as the farm itself, neither animal had put in a days’ hard work in a dozen years at least.

     From somewhere beyond the walls of the barn a rooster crowed. Even the animals were miserable. Jennie cursed softly under her breath.  This had to be the worst summer ever. 

   The cow needed milking. She grabbed the old metal milking bucket and headed out to the corral where the cow grazed. There was nothing so sweet as fresh cow’s milk, chilled almost to freezing, still frothy with cream. From the time she was a toddler, Daddy had always let her help him milk the cow. Old Bessie was her first friend. Her big brown eyes even now looked sad, as though she knew John Marshall wouldn’t be coming out to see her anymore. Jennie rubbed the side of Bessie’s head and patted her on the flank. “I miss him too, girl.”

    An hour later, sweat running down her back, Jennie carried the jug of fresh milk up to the house and stashed it in the old style ice chest on the side of the house.  She was up to her ankles in chickens as she gathered the morning’s eggs into a large wicker basket slung over her left arm when she heard a familiar voice behind her.

    “Hey there, Jennie.”


     She turned around slowly, using the extra time to compose herself and paste on her indifferent expression. “What is it with you two? Did Trisha send you?”

     Michael smiled that irresistible smile of his, the one that always made her weak in the knees and melted her heart. His voice was as smooth as honey. “Come on, Jennie. Don’t be like that.”

    “Like what, Michael? Like mad that you slept with my best friend? Like hurt because you told me that you loved me and it was OK to wait but the second I leave town you are all hot and heavy with Trisha? What should I be like then? Happy that you decided to show up at my father’s funeral? Secretly pleased that you are standing here on my farm smiling at me like nothing ever happened?”

     He raised his hands up in surrender. “I just came by to see how ya’ were. See if y’all needed any help around here what with your Daddy gone….”

     “He’s dead, Michael. It’s OK, you can say it out loud. Saying it won’t make it worse.  Damn it, Michael! It can’t get any worse, you know?”

    Michael closed the distance between them in two easy steps, his long legs covering twice as much ground as hers ever could. For a brief second she hoped he would take her in his arms, hold her close like he used to and tell her everything was going to be all right. And then a picture of Michael holding Trisha close, covered in straw and sweat filled her mind and she took a step back, praying he wouldn’t touch her. If he did, there was no was no telling what she might do to him.

    “I’m sorry ‘bout yor’ Daddy, Jennie. I know how close y’all were.”

    “You don’t know anything.” She turned her back on him so he wouldn’t see the tears. She shrugged off the large hand he placed on her shoulder. “Go away, Michael.  We are through, there’s no reason for you to be here anymore.”

     She whirled around to face him, a sudden burst of courage amping up her confidence.  It lasted for all of ten seconds when Michael reached out and traced the outline of her jaw with his thumb.  His touch was gentle, familiar. She had thought he loved her when he touched her so sweetly. But that wasn’t love. Just the hope that one day she would let him touch more of her.  All of her. She stepped back, gathered her courage back up and scowled at him. “You have to leave now. I don’t want you here.”

     Oh, how she did want him to stay. Her heart ached as he stood there and looked down at her. How she needed comfort—someone to pull her close and tell her that everything was going to be all right. But he couldn’t be that person. He was with Trisha now and besides, she was angry at him. So. Very. Angry.

     “OK, Jennie. I’ll go. But if y’all need anything- anything at all- ya’ call me now, ya hear? I’ll be here in a jiffy to give y’all a hand with whatever you need. Your daddy was a good man. He will be missed by a lot of folks.”

    “Don’t you talk about my Daddy. The last thing he heard before he died was how you broke his little girl’s heart. He wouldn’t want anything from you.”

     He dropped his head and turned around to walk away. After a few steps he stopped and looked back at Jennie.

    “I don’t love her, you know. It’s you I love—I’ll always love.”

     “Right, well, you sure got a funny of showin’ it.” Jennie snapped, her tone as sharp as a razors’s edge. Michael winced and shrugged his shoulders in defeat.

     “I’m sorry I hurt you. If I could take it back I would. Trisha was just so—so hard to resist in that miniskirt and she smelt so damned good and I was missin’ ya so much. But I should of turned and just walked away and never done what I did. You won’t ever know how sorry I am.”

    “I was gone for four hours. You couldn’t have missed me that much. You were horny and Trisha was willing. I’ve come to terms with it and you should too. Now, just go on home and do whatever it is you gotta do and leave me alone. I’ve got work to do.”

     She had no patience for his heart on his sleeve act. All she wanted was for the boy she once thought she loved to get the hell out of her barn and leave her alone. He finally took the hint and walked away without another word. As soon as he was out of sight, Jennie leaned up against the side of the chicken coop and let out a long breath. The flood gates opened and she cried until her tear ducts ran dry. She cried for her broken heart and the newfound loneliness that had settled over her since Daddy had died. The tears ran for all the long nights sharing secrets with Trisha and all the sweet love that she would never know with Michael.  She mourned the certain loss of a future of love, life and happiness.

   The chickens circled around her ankles clucking and pecking as though to comfort her.  White feathers swirled in the dust filled air, clinging to her hair and tickling her bare skin.  Enough with the pathetic tears. Jennie grabbed the egg basket and headed back to the barn.  There was too much work to be done before school started up again in a week or so. She wouldn’t waste any more time mourning Michael or Trisha. What was done, was done.  Best to just move on and focus on the future.

    The future.

     What future did she even have anymore? Momma needed her, the farm needed her.  She was never going to get out of here now. No college. No big city. Just a lifetime of chicken feathers, cow manure and a rotten dirt road no one ever saw fit to pave. 

     Bessie brayed as she walked by and nudged Jennie’s arm with her head. Jennie stopped to pat her old friend on more time and run her fingers through her bristly coat.

     “It’s just you and me from now on, old girl.  Just you and me.”

    Her words were sad, resigned.  The day her father died, her dreams died right along with him. She, too would one day die right here on this farm, alone, at the end of a dirt road only she doubted anyone would really miss her at all.

And now...the surprise I've promised!

For those of you that have read Undercover in Six Inch Stilettos and those of you that want it is...the official cover reveal of book two in the Secret Lives series...In the Shadow of the Shield

= = #CoverReveal = =
Publisher: Limitless Publishing
Release Date:  December 15, 2015
COVER DESIGNER: Wicked by Design:

= = SYNOPSIS = =
When a police officer falls, justice must be served.
Donnie Massey was an honest, skilled police officer. That’s probably what got him killed. When his wife Diana watches him die in front of her, the worst part is going to be telling their son, Jackson.
After a year of mourning, Diana decides it’s time to move on with their lives. The first step to getting closure is to visit Donnie’s grave. But when she gets there, she’s not alone...
Good cops are rare. Carter Ryan is one of them.
Mentored by Donnie, Carter is at the grave when his widow shows up. It may not be the best timing, but he needs her help. Carter admits the fallen shield may not have died in the line of duty, but was likely murdered while involved in a secret investigation with deep criminal ties. Diana agrees to aid in unveiling the truth. Donnie deserves that much.
The definition of insanity...
As the two work side by side, a new and delicate romance begins to bloom. But would falling for another cop be the worst mistake of Diana’s life, or the best decision she’s ever made? When the investigation leads them to an underground meth ring, their mission goes from risky to down right perilous.
After a brush with death hits too close to home, will Diana risk loving another cop? Or will their chance at happiness be forever buried in the shadow of the shield?
Carolyn LaRoche grew up in snow country but fled the cold and ice several years ago. She now lives near the beach with her husband, their two boys, two finicky cats and one old dog. When she is not at the baseball field cheering on big hits and home runs, she is busy teaching science to unwilling teenagers.

Friday, November 20, 2015

Feature Friday- Somewhere in Between by Samantha Harris

by Samatha Harris 
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: November 10, 2015
Publisher: Limitless Publishing
Alexandra McCabe is disconnected from the world, grieving the loss of her parents...

Content with studying and keeping to herself, Alex has no interest in the campus playboy, Drew Collins, trying to get close to her. But even dousing him with beer doesn't deter the easy-going charmer, and against her better judgment, the pair fall into a reluctant friendship.

Drew is bored with college life, and Alex's romantic rejection intrigues him...

Their friendship is good for both of them, but Drew is used to getting what he wants, and he's tired of shallow sorority girls. He's much more interested in the feisty redhead, but despite his growing feeling, Alex keeps him firmly in the friend zone.

Old heartaches and new tragedies deepen a complicated relationship...

Whatever life throws their way, Alex and Drew remain best friends with their own traditions. Drew is Alex's family, her rock, and Alex keeps Drew grounded, always challenging him to better himself.

When years of buried feelings rush to the surface, they threaten to change everything...

Drew promised his mother he'd tell Alex how he feels, when the time is right-but how will he know when that is? Alex is terrified to reveal those 'three little words' certain Drew doesn't feel the same, and she'll lose the only family she has.

Should Alex and Drew open their hearts, and risk being crushed? Should they be satisfied with a deep, lifelong friendship? Or does the only chance for happiness lie...
Somewhere In Between?


When we reached the bar, Drew ordered me a glass of champagne and I turned to scan the crowd. I saw Madeline working her way toward us, her long plum colored gown flaring out behind her. She threw her arms open, a smile spreading wide across her lips. Was she drunk? I smiled back at her as she finally reached me, grasping both my arms tightly before pulling me into an awkward hug. My boss is a very proper and elegant woman. She’s always strictly business, so I was completely floored when she embraced me.

“Alexandra, you look stunning,” she gushed leaning in to kiss my cheeks.

“Uh,” I stammered, completely caught off guard. “As do you, Ms. Grant.”

“Please, we are not in the office. Call me Madeline.” She waved a hand, dismissing the formality. Her eyes widened as Drew stepped beside me and handed me my glass. Madeline glanced between us, pursing her lips and nodding her approval.

“Madeline, this is Andrew Collins,” I said.

“Drew,” he clarified, shaking her extended hand.

“Well, it is a pleasure to meet you, Drew,” Madeline said, her eyes roaming over him from top to bottom like he was a life-size chocolate sculpture. Yep she’s drunk. I took a sip of champagne to hide my giggle, eyeing the actual life-size chocolate sculpture that stood across the room. I would have to get a closer look at that later on. Damn, I should have brought a bigger purse.

“Alexandra has told me so much about you.” Madeline placed a hand to her chest, toying with the insane diamond pendant nestled there. I was impressed she wasn’t hunched over from the sheer size of the thing. Madeline was hammered and flirting with Drew. It was quite the show.

Drew retreated closer to my side, placing his hand on the small of my back. “Well, I’m sure only half of it is true.” An awkward smile spread across his face. His eyes shifted to mine, begging me to save him from my inebriated boss. I bit my lip to suppress a giggle.

Madeline giggled “Oh nonsense.” She placed a hand on his arm. Totally sauced.

“Can I get you a drink, Madeline?” Drew offered, clearly looking for an escape.

“Champagne, please,” she said, with a brilliant smile. As he turned back to the bar to get her drink, she leaned in to me. “He is delicious, darling. Well done. Best to hide him from Gwen.” She winked. Drunk Madeline was my new favorite person! I immediately started devising a plan to start slipping Kahlua into her morning coffee.

I heard the telltale stomp before I saw her. The sound stopped just behind me and a chill ran up my spine.

“Alex,” Gwen said. I could hear the irritation in her voice, and I could feel her cold glare on the back of my neck. I took a deep breath, slowly turning to face her. I was met with an eyeful of exposed breast. Holy shit! There was more boob out of her dress than there was in it. I swear it looked like the fabric was doing everything it could not to just rip open. I couldn’t look at her face if I wanted to. My eyes were locked with her boobs. She might as well have come topless.

Gwen shifted, pushing her breast even further up, causing me to take an involuntary step back. For a moment I thought they were going to attack. She must have noticed Drew and aimed her torpedoes in his direction.

Gwen flipped her extensions over her shoulder as Drew approached. With a smile, he handed Madeline her glass and turned to address our new arrival. Poor bastard never had a chance. All he saw were breasts. It was a direct hit, with no chance of survival. I couldn’t blame him. Hell, I couldn’t look her in the face either.

To his credit, he eventually snapped back to himself and looked up at her face. “Hi, I’m Drew,” he stammered, extending his hand to Gwen. She took it and stepped closer, almost pressing herself against him. She practically shoved me out of the way, pretending not to notice that I was standing right fucking there!

Gwen’s eyes ran up and down Drew like a predator inspecting her prey. “A pleasure, I’m sure,” she said, in her best breathy Marilyn Monroe voice. Oh come on, was she for real? Without breaking eye contact or even releasing Drew’s hand, she said, “Nice dress, Alex.”

“You too, Gwen. Too bad there isn’t more of it.”

Drew coughed, almost choking on his drink. Calling that a dress would be a serious exaggeration. It was more like strips of black fabric glued randomly to her body. Gwen glared at me and I met her evil eye head on, neither of us wanting to be the first to flinch.


Samatha “Sam” Harris lives near Baltimore, Maryland with her husband and daughter Ava. Born in Florida, she migrated north which most people agree was a little backwards. She has been an artist all of her life, a Tattoo Artist for more than ten years, and a storyteller since she was a kid.

Sam has a slightly unhealthy love for Frank Sinatra, classic movies, and Jazz and Blues music, but her first love will always be reading. From Romance, to Thrillers, to Historical Fiction and everything in between, she loves to become a part of the story. As a writer she tells the stories that she would want to read.

Thursday, November 19, 2015

Cover Reveal! EXIT WOUND by Alexandra Moore

Check out the gorgeous cover of EXIT WOUND by Alexandra Moore!!

EXIT WOUND by Alexandra Moore
Genre: New Adult Thriller
Release Date: December 8, 2015
Publisher: Limitless Publishing
Being crowned as royalty in Rosewood Academy’s secret society wasn’t in Bea Morrison’s plans…

A senior in high school, Bea’s life changed forever when a tragic car crash claimed her best friend’s life, leaving her devastated and alone. Now at Rosewood Academy of Arts, Bea owes a debt. With her best friend no longer queen, it’s up to Bea to be fulfill the role until graduation.

There is nothing money can’t buy, including Crosley’s king status…

When Bea accepts her place as queen, the arrogant Crosley is quick to remind her of her royal duties. Obsessed with the era of the Tudors, Crosley insists they must consummate their relationship—but spousal duties aren’t what Bea signed up for. When she rejects Crosley’s proposal, his expectations twist into absolute obsession.

A sadistic mind makes for an expert stalker…

After graduation, Bea thinks the nightmare of Rosewood Academy is over. She’s pleasantly surprised to reconnect with the gorgeous Everett Thompson, a drummer for her brother’s band. As feelings from their past fling resurface, Bea hopes for a fresh start with the guy who got away. 

Bea’s hopes are shattered when she receives threatening texts from Crosley, who is still determined to collect his debt. And as Crosley continues to pursue her, a terrible tragedy proves he is even more dangerous than she feared.

If Bea has learned one thing, it’s that life is too fragile, and it’s anybody’s guess who will make it out of this nightmare alive.

TOJ Publishing Services


My name is Alexandra Moore. I’ve been creating stories since I could talk. I’ve been putting them onto paper since I could write. Writing books is my dream and my passion, along side with rescuing African Pygmy Hedgehogs, retired race Greyhounds, French Bulldogs, and other various animals I’m probably allergic too.

I’m convinced I’m the blood of the dragon, and the Mother of Dragons.

When I’m not watching GoT, I’m watching Grey’s Anatomy (again) on Netflix, and crying over all the MerDer feels. I also spend time with my Boston Terrier Tank and my boyfriend. Both are my cuddle buddies, and I’m afraid the dog is around more often. I don’t bite (unless provoked) so feel free to tweet at me, or leave a comment on one of my InstaPics. I can’t wait until my book is in print, and to share my thoughts with the rest of the world.

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Wednesday, November 18, 2015


This week's excerpt is from In the Shadow of the Shield, book 2 in the Secret Lives series. It is the sequel to Undercover in Six Inch Stilettos and will be available on December 15th. Enjoy!

“Carter,” she whispered into the mic, but got no response. Gooseflesh broke out on her arms as the tiny hairs at the base of her neck bristled. Something wasn’t right.
A quiet rustle in the branches caught her attention. “Carter!” she whispered. “Is that you?”

“Nope,” a voice answered as a hand clasped over her mouth, and an iron grip wrapped around her.
How had she let this happen twice? That Louie was going to get it when she got free this time.

“Listen closely.” Hot, nasty breath on her ear made her cringe. “Your little boyfriend won’t hear you, so don’t bother trying to scream. If you call attention to the neighbors, I will shoot you where you stand, and your son becomes an orphan. Do you understand?”

She nodded as the hand was replaced by a piece of duct tape. Her captor pinned her arms behind her, and secured them with a pair of handcuffs. Diana tried to turn around, but he shoved her forward. “Don’t look at me, just walk!”

With no other choice but to do as she was told, Diana started walking, hoping against hope Carter would appear and rescue her. The man she suspected was Wilkins pushed her through the hedges and into the garage, where the drugs had been.

“Where did you find her?” Captain Roman demanded.

“In the bushes outside. You know who this is?”

“Nope. But whoever it is, they’d better be someone worth adding kidnapping to our list.”

“This is Donnie Massey’s wife.”

“No shit.” The captain looked at her in disbelief.

“Yup. She was spyin’ on us. I found her on the way back from takin’ my piss.”

“What are we supposed to do with her?” Schmidt demanded, coming out of the back of the truck. “I sure ain’t no kidnapper.”

“I guess take her with us, and figure it out later. I couldn’t leave her out there. She seen and heard everything.”

“Put her in the truck,” the captain commanded.

Wilkins gabbed her wrists, and shoved her toward the truck. When they reached the deck, he said, “Get in.”

He wanted her to get into the box of the truck. Diana was terrified of small spaces. There was no way she was going to get in there. Shaking her head almost violently, Diana backed away from the truck.

“You get in there, or I will pick you up and throw you in.” Wilkins’ eyes were wild as he stepped toward her.

“No!” She tried to scream through the duct tape. “No!”

Wilkins lunged toward her, but Diana sidestepped him, and he ran into the side of the truck. The sound of his head smacking the steel frame echoed through the garage. Captain Roman ran at her, but she stuck a foot out and tripped him. Then she ran for all she was worth. There was no way she was getting in that truck. Not without a fight.
“Grab her!”
Grab your copy of Undercover in Six Inch Stilettos before In the Shadow of the Shield releases December 15th Here