Thursday, May 11, 2017

Huge Giveaway

I am part of a Huge Giveaway. So, make sure you click the link to find out how to enter. You can also find this information on my author page on Facebook. It is pinned to the top of my page.

Enter to win the book and almost 50 fantastic paranormal, sci-fi, and fantasy romances from an amazing collection of authors, alongside bookstore gift cards, PLUS a Kindle Fire or Nook Tablet!
Enter the contest by clicking here:

Sunday, May 7, 2017

Sunday Freebie

Right now Seeking Havok is FREE!! That's right FREE. So, make sure you grab your copy NOW! The final day for this #freebie is May 8th.


Her life is just as messed up as her name.

All she wanted was a friend---one that knew her and not her circumstances. She needed somewhere to call home. Hers was an open door for countless men looking for the services her mother offered them. She camouflaged herself against lockers and blackboards to avoid the stares and whispers at school.

And then she found Cal...and Fade.

Cal lives like Frankenstein, rising at night to work and just trying to make it until dawn. He avoids most relationships, afraid of the things he will be asked to do. He moonlights as Fade, a radio station DJ who spends hours counseling his peers on their troubles. It was all mundane until Jocelyn called the station.

Cal and Havok pursue a friendship.

Jocelyn and Fade pursue a relationship beyond the confines of the radio waves.

But when Havok disappears, Cal will find that Havok has been guarding a lifetime worth of secrets. And when Fade and Jocelyn’s all night phone conversations cease, he finds a link between them he never saw coming.

Sunday, April 30, 2017

April Book Fair

I am excited to be part of the April Book Fair. Today is the last day so check it out. There are so amazing books that are feature.

Friday, April 14, 2017

New Giveaways!

Because my PA Jaime is so kick butt, she's made a ton of swag for me. 

And I want to give it away!!

Next week, I will be giving away swag packs on Twitter.

If you don't follow me on Twitter, wait,,,you don't follow me on Twitter?

Here's the link to follow me there.

Here's to swag packs galore!!! I hope you win!! 

Thursday, April 13, 2017

Throwback Thursday: Lightning Sealed

Today's Throwback is Lightning Sealed. It is book 2 in the Lucent Series. You can find your copy HERE

Chapter 1

There was not very much fight in me anymore. I’d given up wrestling with the voices. Lately, it was better to come out to the gardens near Rebekah’s grave, lie down on the grass, and just let myself drown in them. Allow the gates to open. Feel myself tumble in the undercurrent, happy to drown. Happy to let go. There was a time when I could control them—allow Colby’s touch to make them still. That was until Torrent returned. Sanctum’s presence amplified it all. They weren’t just voices, as I’d convinced everyone around me. They were disembodied souls seeking the same thing I was—peace. These unrelenting souls wouldn’t let me sleep, wouldn’t let me eat. Even a glass of water seemed to contain the lives of thousands and I was swallowing them whole. I knew exactly what needed to be done. It was so simple and so damned difficult. The Fray was not their destiny. The Almighty never intended His children to float around aimlessly for eternity. But even the Almighty required help sometimes. And there I was, His hand, refusing to help. I knew the toll it was taking on me and Colby. I could see it in her eyes, the way they’d lost some of their sparkle, their luster for life. She watched me—a mild panic in her gasp when I disappeared from her line of sight. She’d taken to eating only when I ate, which was next to never. She hadn’t slept more than a few hours in weeks. Her cries when she did sleep were for me, for us. That was when I couldn’t stand to be near her—the time when she needed me most. She wrestled with the sheets as though they were me, or who I used to be. She should’ve given up on me a long time ago. And I should’ve let her. I was hurting her, but I didn’t know how to stop it. There was nothing more I wanted in life than for it all to stop. “If this is your idea of a battle plan, then we are verifiably screwed.” I shielded my eyes from the blaring sun and looked at the man, once the boy, who was once my brother. I guessed, technically, he was still my brother. He looked the same for the most part. His grooming habits had changed, which might have been the only improvement. He was the dingy one of the family. My mom always had to beg him to take a shower. My parents had called here and there to check on me, but I’d left out Torrent’s presence. They had enough to worry about without adding him to the mix. I was weaker with him around—more fragile. It pissed me off to no end. I would have to tell them eventually. I didn’t want to see any more of their pain. “I thought you were the almighty Sanctum, Warlord Supreme. You said I was just the weapon.” He canted his head at me and then plopped down beside me on the grass. I hated him. I needed him. We needed him. “Please. We are all the weapons. Plus, a few guns never hurt anyone.” His voice was shrouded in filth, like he talked to me through a sheet of mud. “If you’re looking to get guns from me, you’re not looking in the right place.” There were still some things I knew about my brother. A title doesn’t change the root of who someone is. When he turned his face away from me, he was rolling his eyes.“Don’t roll your eyes at me.” I joked, but didn’t recognize my own voice. “The great and powerful Eidolon wishes me to mind my manners. Sorry, brother. It’s in my veins not to mind my manners. It’s so easy to be—nasty.” My mind drifted to Collin. I knew he worried about us—about me. He was our column in a crumbling mansion. It was hard enough for Collin to handle Colby, now he had to handle Sanctum as well. “Do you have a plan or did you come out here to annoy me to death? Wait, is that your plan—annoy the Synod to death? That sounds like a decent plan, but in reality, Colby has already tried it. It just makes them extra pissy.” His silence buzzed in my ears. The voices quelled a bit in his presence, not silent like when Colby was around, but muted, like he’d thrown a wet blanket over them. I’d never tell him that. He might stay longer—or leave earlier. We were stuck between the devil and the witches in a battle that I thought no one would actually win. I’d known for a while. I’d strategized the efforts. No matter which path we took, someone was going to get hurt. And the guilt anchoring my soul pulled me further into the depths by the second. By not travelling to Paraiso, I was denying my privilege and duty. Denying a calling directly from the source. Those souls were stuck in the Fray. It was an ungraspable area between time and space, where hours didn’t tick by and the sun neither rose nor set. Everything was gray—floating and out of reach. They were imprisoned and I was the key. “I hear them too, you know. Of course, I want to drag them down to hell. It’s like an itch I can’t scratch—like having to wear one of those sweaters Gran used to make us for Christmas. But their cries—at least they would have some resolution, even if I dragged them to the pit. They’d surely shut the hell up.” I kicked his leg. I meant it to hurt him, but a good breeze could’ve done more damage. “Sounds like empathy—maybe pity?” He snorted. “Don’t forget, brother. I am not like you. I am evil to the core. You can twist my motives all you want, but there is no real good left in me.” The clouds concurred, rolling in with their grief and grayness. It was my turn to roll my eyes. “There was once some good in you.” “Once—maybe. Not anymore. It was eaten away. You were enlightened by your gifts. I was plagued by mine. It’s a give and take world, Theo. When something is given to you— sometimes it’s taken from someone else.”There were questions burning in me, and I thought there was no better time to ask. “When did you know? Why did you know so soon and it took me forever?” For a long time, he looked to the sky and ground his jaw back and forth. It made me think he was making up a lie or figuring out a way to smooth over the truth. “Because I sought it. I peeled away the layers and allowed the darkness to filter through. It was there all along. I just had to let it loose. Plus, I wasn’t clouded by love and Colby.” I corrected him. “Love and Colby aren’t separate. They are the same.” Torrent crinkled up his nose in what looked like disgust. He got up to leave, but I stopped him. If I could restore the Resin, there was a possibility I could revive goodness into the shell of a man standing next to me. “I don’t even know how to get them from the Fray—even if I wanted to.” “How do you flash?” His back was still turned to me. “Same as the rest of them. I picture the place I want to go and then go. But this is different—I think.” “The Fray is just another place, except it’s not tangible. And time doesn’t move there like it does here.” He chortled. “You’ve never been there, brother. How would you know?” “The stories.” He flicked a piece of grass at me. “Come on. You and I both know that stories are nothing more than gossip. Some of it is sanded and some of it is bloated. Either way, none of it is even close to the truth.” Torrent knew how to dismantle my bones from the inside out. All I had relied on were stories. But his words weren’t bloated at all. They needled my chest. I had no idea what the Fray was about because I’d never surrendered to the pull. I was still fighting an unwinnable battle. The tug to do what I was born to do wasn’t just a little pull anymore—it reached down into my chest and dragged me with it, demanding I heed the call. I had to know a little about what I was doing before I was lost myself—except there would be no hope of ever returning for me. “Have you told her yet?” As though her name, even the thought of her name, wasn’t enough to tether me here, I felt the Earth buckle beneath me, settling me in place. I never should’ve told her. Minute by minute I regretted going after her, seeking her out in Brazil, though she’d told me to stay far away. It was me this time that should’ve stayed away from her. She wasn’t like me. She could live without me. I couldn’t live without her safe. “I’ll take your silence as a no.” “You can take it as none of your business.” He chuckled. It wasn’t the laugh I remembered. This laugh was laced with venom. “Ahh, Theo, but you see, it is my business. Who do you think is going to watch over her in your absence? The Viking?” Under Colby’s influence, everyone involved gradually started calling Collin ‘The Viking.’ I thought he liked it more than he let on. The way I thought he liked Colby more than he let on. In fact, I was betting everything on it. “Collin can handle it. He was a Guardian once.” “Yeah, because guarding books is the same as guarding Colby. He’d lose her before he even knew he was supposed to watch over her.” “I guess you think I’m supposed to trust you with her?” He snorted. “The last thing I think you should do is trust anyone. Besides, she’s not a puppy you leave for boarding.” Trust—it was a word I couldn’t count on anymore. The only people I trusted were me and Colby. Scratch that, just Colby. There were blips of time where my thoughts were so tightly fused with those in the Fray that I was already lost. “Do us all a favor and don’t just disappear on her. No one wants to deal with that drama. I came for the fight, not for the antics or the drama,” he offered. “I’ve never needed you before and I don’t need you now.” He patted my shoulder before flashing away and said, “Yeah. Sure you don’t.

Wednesday, April 12, 2017

What's up Wednesday

I just made that up.

What's up Wednesday. 

It totally dates me as does using the word totally.


I digress.

Here's what's up...

Mate Craze (Dragon Shifters) is going into edits this week!


Hip Whip is next on deck and I'm aiming to have it done by next month with an early June release. It will be first released via PayHip, so if you don't have an account with them, you may want to get one if you'd like it a week earlier than Amazon.


AnguiSH and HeartBreaker are due to the editors at Clean Teen Publishing for June 1 and I'm expecnting them to be re-released in January and February of next year. I'm so excited about this. 

What other releases are you waiting for from me?


Tuesday, April 11, 2017

Teaser Tuesday

This is another teaser from Mate Craze!!!

I hated texting and now that I’d heard back from her, in plain typed letters across a screen, I really hated it.
It wasn’t enough-not by a long shot. For the second time that morning, I took a shot and called her.
She shot me down.
Then called me back.
Just the sound of her voice made me want to go up all the three flights of stairs in one leap.
Her eyebrows jumped a little when I hit the top of the stairs. I thought maybe I’d scared her a little-and maybe a little more.
“Did you run?” She smart-mouthed me. I wasn’t sure which one I liked most, the sweet blushing Kallie or the smartass one. I liked the mouth on both of them.
“I like to be prompt when a lady calls. Sue me.”
Her hand moved up and she whispered her pointer finger around the rim of her adorably curved ear. “Suing you for being prompt would be the very definition of frivolous lawsuit. Trust me. You, um, you didn’t wear glasses yesterday.”
A clue-and one hell of a clue at that. These glasses, the ones I wore only when I had to, did something to her. As she spoke, the most controlled of shivers passed through her, causing a husky quality in her voice and a hoarseness in her throat.
Made me wonder if other things caused that same rasp.
“I only wear them when I’m working outside. Contacts get all kinds of crap in them.” It was a lie and I was grateful she wasn’t yet my mate-or didn’t know she was. I wore glasses because I read so much that even my dragon irises couldn’t help me.
“Oh, that makes sense. I like them.”
She didn’t like the glasses. She liked me in the glasses. My dragon did a victory roll inside. He’d been downright unruly since the day before, wanting to rip me open and drag Kallie to the nearest cave and hide here away from the rest of the world-the animal. 

Monday, April 10, 2017


Source of Picture:


I'm gonna talk a little today about fear. The other day we were visiting some friends and I said, 'I wonder how many decisions we make a day that are based on fear?' One of our friends turned to us and said, 'It would be easier to name the decisions we make that aren't based on fear.'

Contrary to the subject, this wasn't an in depth conversation. We were actually laughing about it. Yet, as we drove home, the topic stuck with me and I wondered if I could name even one decision that I'd made of late that wasn't based on fear of something.

I remember early in this career I spoke with one of those career coach people who asked me what was keeping me from publishing a certain book.

I was afraid people wouldn't like it.
I was afraid it was a genre my readers wouldn't read.
I was afraid of the backlash, the blowback of a decision to switch genres. 

That book was Burden.

And there is a great possibility that all of this is just me-that I am the only one who bases some or a great deal of her life on being scared.
But, I highly doubt it.

I'm not sure there's a way to get over the fear except to continually face it over and over again until facing the things that terrify you is as second nature as running from fear used to be. 

I'm still practicing. 

In fact, I had to face being scared of this post. 

Lila: 1, Fear: 43 million.

At least it's not zero. 

Are you?

Sunday, April 9, 2017

Swoon Sunday

Today's Swoon Sunday post is from Hearten (Bayou Bear Chronicles Book 2) This is the story of Martha and Rev. Here is a swoon moment from the book. Just a reminder that today is the Last day to get His Haunted Heart FREE. So grab your copy while you can.

I wanted to kiss her until she said my name.
“Come here.”
There was no time for please. She would be saying please soon enough. She stepped closer and I cursed that sweater for everything it wouldn’t let me touch, but praised it for the same reasons. I didn’t need any coercion.

“Can I kiss you, love?”

Her eyes widened as she nodded.

Creator, let me make this perfect for her—perfect for us.

Lowering my face at the same time I tipped her chin upward, I commanded her with a whisper. “Say you’re mine.”

Her throat worked like it was manufacturing the words. “Rev, I’m yours.”

That’s all I needed.

I took her lips one by one, moving as slowly as I could, making this first joining one for the books.

But it wasn’t quite fast enough for her.

Martha laced her hands behind my head and deepened our connection. A whimper of a sound coupled our collision and I knew without a doubt that what had been building in me was so very strong because it wasn’t just me at all. It had been building in both of us. My hands roamed from her waist down to those dangerous hips.
She tasted as sweet as she looked, but instead of tasting like rain like she smelled, her lips were tinged with the taste of sugar, like sugar cookies. It was like our Creator had molded her lips of cookie dough.
There was nothing sweeter in this world.
I didn’t let it go any further than a simple kiss, for now, my inner beast was pleased and contented with just this—and so was I.

You can read it FREE on Kindle Unlimited.

Saturday, April 8, 2017

Freebie Alert

Right now you can grab His Haunted Heart FREE!!  It will be free on Amazon until 4/9/2017 so get your copy NOW!!!


Six years ago, deep in the swamps of Louisiana, Delilah’s face was marred forever at the hands of her sisters by the point of her mother’s kitchen knife. Despite her protest, her parents insist she make haste in finding a husband. But finding a husband isn’t an easy feat with a scar running the length of your face.
Porter Jeansonne keeps to himself. He lives in his mansion, set apart from the town he’s grown to detest. One night, walking through the town, seeking to collect a debt, he hears a man selling off his daughter in the most deplorable part of the darkened streets. He chooses to take pity on her and set her free from her despicable family. Until he sees her face. He then knows that maybe she is the mend for his haunted heart.

Wednesday, April 5, 2017

Teaser...Wednesday. Oops.

Y'all, I am SO excited about this release that I have been working on with my dear friend Dara Frasier. It's my first plunge into the Dragon Shifter world and I couldn't be more thrilled.

You're going to love Knox. 

This should be released in late May, so keep your eyes peeled. You won't want to miss it.

*Unedited Version*

The mornings since the craze had set in were the worst, especially since most of the time I hadn’t actually fallen asleep during the darkness.
My cell phone rang somewhere on the other side of the room, wherever I had plugged it for the night. The clan’s healer, Lindsey, told me to keep it away from the side of my bed. She thought I must’ve been waking several times during the night to check games or whatever people did on their phones.
Well, maybe I had checked Sims once or twice during the night but that wasn’t what was keeping me up-not by a long shot.
Hurling myself out of bed, I groaned and zeroed in on the damned thing ringing like someone was paying it a salary.
“What? I mean, hello.” I gruffed into the phone.
“Knox, Sir, you asked me last summer, about the girl who asked, you told me to…” Gretchen oversaw the diner for the clan. Everything in this town technically belonged to me as the Alpha, but the money was shared-all of us worked for it.
She wasn’t a big talker, but she was loyal as they came.
“Yes, Gretch, I asked you to let me know if you saw her again.”
I heard the sounds of her stomping rather than walking in a hurry to the other room. The swish of the revolving door between the counter and the kitchen barely cut off the sound of her breathing. She was obviously moving to a place where no one could hear her or someone in particular couldn’t hear her. By the second, I got more and more anxious. If she was there-if the female that I’d seen last summer was back in town-well-I hoped she’d never leave again.
Then again, she was human.
“Sir, she’s here with that other girl, the one from before. They just came in, sat at your booth, unknowingly, of course. Paul said they checked into their rooms at the B&B and now that we have that software, he had to check their IDs. We’ve got her, Sir.”
She called me Sir all the time even though I insisted she didn’t.
“I’ll be there shortly.”
I dropped the phone onto the bed and grabbed hold of the four bed posts. This wasn’t just some girl. I knew it and if anyone in the clan had really been paying attention, like Samson, they knew it too. She was human. She was not from here and certainly not one of our kind.
And she was mine.
She just didn’t know it yet. 

Tuesday, April 4, 2017

A little info please

Hey everyone! 

I'm revamping some things this year and I need your feedback! 

I'm so grateful for my readers and now I need your opinion-that's right, you!

If you could, please take some time and fill out this short survery. I promise it's only five questions and multiple choice answers for the most part. 

Thanks for sticking with me!

Click the link below to give me YOUR opinion.

Create your own user feedback survey

Thursday, March 30, 2017

Throwback Thursday: Forced Autonomy Phase 2

Today's Throwback is Forced Autonomy Phase 2. You can grab your copy HERE.

Chapter 1


                I’d been away for a week, concreting myself in Colorado, the furthest I’d allow myself to travel from camp. The heart of the city of Pueblo was silent and unbeating. For seven days straight, I’d perched atop the Wells Fargo Bank building, shielding myself from the blaring sun with the ugliest fishing hat I’d ever seen—but I’d found it near a creek once and it fit the bill. It even smelled like fish.

                Scanning the crowd, I saw none of the anomalies I was looking for, and decided, by the glare of the two o’clock showing sun, that I wanted to go back home. I wanted to go back to Petra. And if Odin even quivered a sinister muscle in her direction, I’d take him out. I swore it to myself. He was a leader only in name and he’d royally pissed me off.

 I’d convinced myself she was just another girl, just another grainer I’d picked up on the way. She was nothing special. She was nothing to put my head through the guillotine over. And then thirty seconds later, all of those thoughts were retracted. I’d told her goodbye in my own way. While she soundly slept, I kissed her forehead and spoke to her so many things I wanted her to know.

What kind of asshole threatens a girl he supposedly values?

Because that’s how he spoke of her—like she was a prized 4-H heifer, not someone he cared about.

                Odin had pulled me aside after I’d returned from hunting. He’d told me I was no good for her and that the only reason he’d taken me into the group was to pick up those who fit in with us, not to find a girlfriend or compromise his plans. He’d alluded to telling her about my criminal past which I didn’t even know he knew about. At first I’d fronted him, butted him, chest to chest, and demanded to know what business of his it was. I’d demanded to know what the hell his problem was. He never did answer my inquiry. Instead, he’d gotten in my face and with spittle stringing out in webs from his mouth, and threatened to hurt her if I didn’t begin to spend more time travelling than I did hanging around.

                What would happen if I’d just beaten him to the punch and told her myself.

                I could’ve done that. I should’ve done that.

                We all had a past, right?



                Letting out a tempered sigh, I stood up from my haunches and lifted my bag, preparing to leave the city and return to camp and to Petra. I hadn’t spotted any anomalies in the crowds—only zombies. Even before Petra, the numbers of real people had dwindled. I’d only picked up maybe three in the past six months. I really didn’t think there were any more out there.

                I looked out one more time into the ants just to make sure I hadn’t missed anyone. It was feeding time. The almost brain dead citizens lined up for their bowls of gruel. I couldn’t help but mentally compare it to those old starving children commercials. They used to line those children up in droves and feed them milky grains and call it proper nutrition for our monthly contribution of only thirty dollars. Now Africans and Haitians ate like the once rich and famous.

                “Hands in the air, subject.”

                Double Shit.

                I raised my hands in the air slowly, closing my eyes and counting to ten. If I was going to get out of this, I had to think slowly, move fast and then run like hell.

                “Follow me, or I will shoot,” his almost computer generated voice commanded.

                I was off my game. I usually could predict where and when the Pinocchios would show up. I needed rest. I needed more than stale bread and smoked venison.

                I took three side steps in his direction and it threw him off. Most people simply froze in the presence of a firearm. But I wasn’t going down like this.

                Hell no—not me.

                “Halt, subject.”


                Crouching on the hot roof, my palms flattened on the ground, I swiped one foot into his legs at the point where his calves met his ankles and he toppled over; no instinct to defensively respond. The only thing they had were their guns. I heard the crack of his helmet as it hit the hardened asphalt. That was my cue to run. Strapping my pack on to my back tighter, I ran for the nearest exit, grabbed the sides of the long ladder hanging from the edge of the building once used as a fire escape, and slid down, no time or patience for the rungs. Ignoring the sting of burning rash left by the heated railings, I dashed towards the mountainous area outside of the city. I needed to get home. I’d considered it the day before, but the tanks entering the city had piqued my interest and I’d had to investigate the source of their invitation. However, they’d vanished into an underground parking garage which was secured after they passed through.

                Finally reaching the truck on the other side of the hill, I tossed my bag in the back and gunned it headed south.

                Screw Odin, I needed to get home.

You can find all of my books on Amazon Kindle Unlimited.

Sunday, March 26, 2017

Swoon Sunday

Today's Swoon Sunday comes from Caught In A Jam. This story follows Nixon and Journey. It is book 4 in A Love and Skate Series.

 I turned to walk out and before I reached the door he laced his warm, calloused fingers in mine and I turned around, startled by the feel of him, even though I’d just been holding his hands seconds before. 
 “If you never come back—if you decide I’m not worth it—I have to kiss you just once.  I’ve needed your mouth on mine for almost my whole life.  Please…”
 My body swayed towards his at once, there was no way I could resist this, even if I didn’t come back.  He grabbed my face in his hands and ran his thumbs over my cheeks, memorizing the feel of me.  He smiled the slightest bit before closing his eyes and touching his lips to mine, softly, gently at first.  The heat from his kiss seared my lips and then branched out through the veins in my face and down in my neck.  Nixon walked us back until I felt my back against the wall behind me.  His hips rocked against mine as his tongue nudged my lips open.  My mouth opened to accept it.  Our chests rose and fell as one.  I could feel the pounding of his heart against me.
 He pulled back once and moaned, “I knew you’d taste like heaven.”
   He sucked and nipped at my lips until I broke away hastily, ducked under his arms and left.  If I stayed any longer, there would be nothing to think about. I would give in without any sound thought or judgment. And it was obvious I’d done enough damage to him for a lifetime.

You can find all of my books on Amazon Kindle Unlimited.

Thursday, March 23, 2017

Throwback Thursday: Burden

Today's throwback you meet the amazing Alpha Hawke and his mate Echo. Burden is the start of my bear shifter books. Each book is a has its own happily ever after. You can find a copy HERE



“I need a minute, file out please,” I commanded, sitting back in my tattered leather desk chair, scratching my almost full beard. Rubbing my belly, I tried to scour away the itch of frustration, to no avail. Frustration was my leech and its teeth penetrated deep.  I really should take better care of myself.  But my appearance reflected my attitude of late, ragged, teetering on the edge of mania. I’d gone too long without a haircut, opting instead for buzzing the sides myself and letting the top grow longer than I’d ever let it before.  “Yes, Alpha,” they all replied, swiftly moving from the cedar paneled office—except River. As more than my beta, my best friend, he always thought himself exempt from most orders, and he was. I frequently needed an ear that felt like it was on my side, and not just because the rules told him he had to be.  My father had been Alpha before me, and his father Alpha before that. Every day I uncovered another piece of the effed up puzzle—the real story of the turmoil my clan was in—the legacy they’d left me. And it seemed while they were excellent Alphas in terms of protecting the lands and growing the clan—they weren’t proficient at financing or piddling things like paying property taxes. They allowed their females no say over anything, which went against everything we were taught as young males. They failed to practice what they preached. Their mates had to grin and bear it. A female probably would’ve pointed out the details that my father and his father ignored. And now, one year after my father died of cancer and my mother followed soon after, I stood in a falling apart house, up to my eyeballs in debt with every male and some female clan members working two and three jobs to help out. My clan was crumbling through my claws. Something has to give. River was the same age as me, though our appearances aged us considerably. He growled out a sigh and plopped down in one of the huge chairs, built specifically for us, thick and sturdy. He beat his hands on the top of his head to some rhythm. He was deciding how to tell me something. “Hawke, we can barely handle what we’ve got. Let’s face it, we are up to our muzzles here. Clan members are paying for bills usually taken care of by clan funds. We are working ourselves to the bone. We do what we can, but it’s just not enough. And now the LaFourche Clan Alpha wants to merge? I don’t know, boss.” I hate when he calls me boss. “I can’t help it. I have no money left after paying over two hundred thousand dollars in property taxes, insurance, flood insurance and everything else we were up to our asses on. The effing government was about to auction off our land. I have little to nothing left.” I stood and took the two steps to the window to face the swamp. I could almost hear the fluttering of the catfish’s fins in the murky bayou, the teeth of the nutra rat chattering, and the bowing branches of the Cypress tree in the beginning winds of a Louisiana thunderstorm. The swamp called to me, begging me to allow it to soothe the beast and the stress. I wished it could. But I didn’t even have time to run anymore—I hadn’t shifted in weeks. The neglect of my inner animal made my skin crawl and itch.  Let me out, he pleaded. He didn’t answer my rhetorical plea for him to further his rebuttal, so I continued my side of the debate, “What else can I do? Have you seen the other clan members? They’re as mature as a newborn cub. If I don’t take over as their Alpha, they’ll scatter to the winds. And with the other clans vying for our
land already—they would take over the LaFourche land and be a heartbeat away from our boundaries. I won’t have it.” He grabbed the arms of the chair and leaned forward, and I could see his reflection in the window. “Then something has to give. Things are getting out of hand. We respect you, Alpha and will obey anything you ask of us. But the Betas and clan are restless, the males and the females. You know our ways dictate that our inner animal obey an Alpha pair, not just a male. We need the strength of a pair. If you intend to do this, we should be stronger, at least.” Didn’t I know it? If they were restless for a pair to oversee them—if restless was the word they were using, then I was downright violent with my need for a mate.  The craving almost consumed me. My bear needed a mate, and I as an Alpha, needed the balance of a female—plus, even with my warmer body temperature; my bed, of late, seemed to grow colder and colder. But who had time to seek out a mate when the clan was in a spiral of disorganization and failure? It wasn’t like there was a dating and mating website for bear shifters. If there had been, its mascot would have been that yellow Care Bear with the heart on its stomach. The commercial would have him doing the Care Bear stare or some shit. I hated Care Bears.  Why am I thinking about Care Bears? I knew he could feel my malcontent over bringing up the issue of a mate, so he relented and moved on. “There’s another issue, Alpha.” I turned to my friend with a fake smile, “Oh great, what more?” “There’s been a report of a black bear, a rogue, in South Dakota. She seems to be part of a grizzly clan, but is not mated. They have seen her working on clan lands and running perimeters on their boundaries at all times of the night.” I shrugged, “It’s the female’s choice if she wants to keep clan with grizzlies.” “The thing is—she’s thin—worn. The wolf pack Alpha who reported her says she’s unhealthy. He says he can see her ribs when she shifts and she’s maybe eighteen or nineteen but none of the kids in his pack have ever seen her in school. And they all attend school together up there, shifter and human. He assumes—he assumes she’s being held captive. He sent a formal request that you visit and see for yourself as the Alpha over all bear Alphas.” I snorted in his direction, “I’m sure the grizzlies would be much obliging.” “They don’t have a choice. We outrank them. Black bears outrank Grizzlies, you know that. They have no choice but to grant you entrance.” Of course I knew that. I was just grasping at straws, trying to talk my way out of going to South Dakota for any reason. “How can I leave now, with the clan in turmoil?” “It will take us three days. It’s not gonna fall apart in three days. If she is what the wolf says she is, then we have to save her. We protect our own.” I slammed my fist down on the table, more in frustration with the entire situation than towards my Beta. He jumped anyway, “I know we protect our own. Make the arrangements with the rest of the clan. I want you and Flint on my flank. Three days, no more.” He didn’t answer with words, simply bowed his head in acknowledgement. I couldn’t believe this. I was in the middle of a turf struggle, on the verge of taking on a new clan, and trying to calm the mate-craving animal inside me—and there was a lone female in cold South Dakota who’d gotten herself kidnapped and enslaved. Perfect.

All of my books are a part of Amazon Kindle Unlimited.

Sunday, March 19, 2017

Sunday News

I will be at Booking In Biloxi on March 25th from 12am until 3pm. So if you are in the area come see me as well as the NOLA Writer Gals. You can follow the NOLA Writer Gals on our Facebook group. Come and see us and get some great swag and awesome books.

Thursday, March 16, 2017

Throwback Thursday: Doves For Sale

Today's Throwback is Doves For Sale. You met Ezra and Aysa in Sparrow for Free. This is the continuation of their story. You can find your copy HERE.

Chapter 1


My psychologist is the devil. She wears red all the time, straight skirts, stripper heels, and lipstick—sometimes all together and sometimes separately. My brother, the priest, is scared of her too. Not scared enough. My brother and I came to an impasse in my counseling exactly three days after we started. For the future, I will keep in mind that my brother and I cannot talk without shouting, even in the rectory. I had a session the day before Halloween and she was dressed up as a devil girl, red glittery horns and all. She opened the windows halfway through the session to get some air in the place—or to let her demon minions in. Or to let the smell of brimstone and sulphur out. That’s right, I pick the only therapist in the nation who smells like rotten boiled eggs. Because that is my luck. And here I am, entertaining one of the things on her list. Dating more. I hate every second of it. “So, Ezra is an interesting name.” What the shit is this woman talking about? She can’t just let the jazz quartet play and the Bourbon get into my system before she starts the trip down ‘awkward first date conversation’ road, could she? This is why I don’t date, devil woman. I tip my chin at the waiter and after a double glance at my date, he complies. From the way his eyes bulged out, I think he’s gonna bring me the bottle this time. Her name is Andy or Jesse, some boy turned girl name—if only it fit her personality. I’m supposed to be observing her apart and separate from any—comparisons. Which is the closest thing to impossible I’ve ever attempted. Comparing her to anyone in particular was out of the question according to the bride of Satan. “It’s Biblical.” I reply, aloof yet polite. I don’t want her to get attached to me in any way, not that I was a catch, but it is therapy in itself, all this dating. I don’t even want this one as a friend or a sour look in passing on the street. I’d prefer she just get up and leave while I’m still sober. She looks to the side, ignoring my reply, as a cart with the dessert offerings pass us by, more interested in that than anything I have to say. Which is fine with me. I give the place a once over while she pretends not to be with me. My suit is itchy and I’d much rather be home in a pair of basketball shorts, playing Xbox and pining over—you know. But I suppose the devil knows what she’s talking about. At least, that’s what the degree on the wall says about her. In my opinion, she’s full of shit all the way up to her
eyeballs. Hearing a noise akin to a squirrel opening an acorn, I zero in on the woman in front of me and try to focus on the task at hand. The noise, now a fuse, lit and gaining ground at a rapid pace toward a bomb of a headache, was her—clacking her teeth on her black, chipped, and artificial looking fingernail. When she pulls her finger away from her mouth, a sliver of the black is caught on her eye tooth, but I don’t have the heart to tell her. Besides, it serves as a form of entertainment. It mesmerizes me. I’ve never tasted nail polish per se, but I can’t imagine how she isn’t hacking and gagging on that taste in her mouth. Sitting back in my chair, I inhale, trying to take in all the senses of this girl who I’d asked out in the Starbucks line. She doesn’t smell like—wait—I’m not supposed to compare—she smells like fermented rain. Like someone left a piece of bread in the rain to get soggy and then it molded and got rained on again. Speaking of bread, she’s eaten all the bread. Who does that? It’s a whole basket of bread. Would it kill her to share? She—she—she. I really should know her name at least. “So where do you work?” I always squirm at this question. Girls like this with perfected bodies and less than perfected manners don’t get what I do. I work for a paycheck. I’m not, nor have I ever been, interested in status, socially or financially. The factory pays me for eight hours and I leave my work at the time clock. I don’t have to pull long hours and come home with a briefcase and there’s no client dinners to take me away from anything or anyone. “At a motorcycle parts factory.” I shrug, pre-excusing myself from whatever criticism she’s sure to offer. “Oh. That sounds interesting.” The waitress appears and though I’m not supposed to, I mentally compare her to the one on the pedestal. The devil woman said I couldn’t compare my date, not the waitress, or the lady sitting at the table next to me, or the hostess or anyone else within a breath. “Hi Patty!” The waitress apparently recognizes the woman across from me and now I know her name—Patty. Patty is not really a boy turned girl name, but it’s close to Pat, so I let myself slide. When Patty answers the waitress’ question about what she’s been up to, she rolls her eyes toward me while she responds. She must be having as much fun as I am. A girl with strawberry blonde hair passes outside. Her hair is straighter than—and her hips aren’t quite as rounded as—and she’s not hiding like… I push back a thought, vowing not to allow her name to fill my throat and try to escape. It escapes too often—it doesn’t escape often enough. I hate not talking about
her. It feels like she died instead of killing me. Like she drowned instead of filling me with emptiness. Like she tipped over the edge of a cliff and took me with her. “Evan, what will you be getting?” Patty is poking the hell out of the laminated menu in front of me as her recently reacquainted friend tapped her pen on her notebook, needing to move on to her next table. “It’s Ezra. And the chicken marsala.” This was an Italian place. I hoped they had chicken marsala. Then again, nothing about the whole scenario was right. Nothing in my life is quite right anymore.

You can find all of my books on Amazon Kindle Unlimited.

Sunday, March 12, 2017

Swoon Sunday

This weeks Swoon Sunday comes from Burden.

Finally on the road, I took the time to replay the moment I first saw her laying in the grass, her jet black hair seemed like it went on for miles and miles, breaking free of its hairband as soon as she woke. She pounced like a feral cat when she heard us, and that’s when I knew that my mate was probably the bravest, fiercest bear I’d ever laid eyes on.   Then her eyes, the color of a turquoise stone, connected with mine and my world shattered. Everything in my body seized, including my heart, and with an exhale of bated breath, it began again, beating with hers, in time with the female I was created to love. And now here I held her. Her breathing was steady but I longed to see her spring to life. It twisted my chest to see her passed out in reaction to pain. She stirred in her sleep and shivered a bit. Pulling the blanket so that it no longer separated us, I lifted my shirt and hugged her closer, sharing every bit of warmth I had with her.   This was it.   She was here with me, the promise of our Creator, a mate to call my own, to share my life and my troubles with. To tell my secrets and listen to hers, to stand with me, equal in rank—a female to love and bear my cubs—to build a family and a legacy with. In my arms was my lifelong wish, my dream come to fruition. Echo was my mate, my heart, my love and hope for our clan. 


In the depths of the Louisiana swamps, clans of bear shifters roam freely. Hawke Turnclaw, the Alpha over all of his kind, is drowning in the legacy left to him by the Alpha before him, his own father. When he goes on a rescue mission to save a rogue Black bear from the clutches of a Grizzly clan, he finds more than just a Black bear, he finds his mate.

Echo has always been told she's an anomaly, a fluke. She's the only bear of her kind and that makes her a hindrance to her clan. She's tried to run away, but they keep her tethered through guilt and a shock collar around her neck.

And then someone shows up claiming he's her mate.
Now belonging to a new clan, will she ever be able to understand that she's so much more than just a burden?

You can find all of my books on Amazon Kindle Unlimited.

Thursday, March 9, 2017

Throwback Thursday: Beholden

Chapter 1


“Aspen. What kind of name is that? It’s like his butt owns a writing utensil. Or is a writing utensil.”

Aspen's name is now synonymous with vomit.

I swear to all that's holy if Dahlia says Aspen one more time I'm going to projectile blow chunks all over her. It can't be helped. The physical reaction to--him--is involuntary and violent. She's across the room trying to console me and it's not working. Nothing works. Her precious shifting and running, swimming--none of it do a damn thing to get him out of my head. Eating certainly doesn't help--my stomach rejects it all.

"Cia, you have to get out of here. Tarrow says that As.."

I jump to my feet and point in her direction. "Dahlia, I can make it the five feet over to you and my aim has become extremely precise over the last few days. I could puke into a straw from a mile away. Go ahead. Say the name. But you've been warned."

She rolls her eyes. They are going to get stuck like that sooner than later the way she’s been pulling that move on me lately. She knows nothing about what I’m going through. None of them do.

She has this beautiful mate who is loving and caring and takes care of his shit.

I have Ass-Pen.

That’s the only way I will say his name.

Like he corrals donkeys for a living.

Like himself.

Because he’s the biggest jackass of them all.

“He wants to come see you.”

Well, guess what? I want a lot of things-like a punching bag with Aspen’s face on it. Do I get it? No…

This is the hard part. The part where my bear and I are having a Mexican stand-off. Because she’s fighting herself too. It’s like having a dream about a dream—except it’s a nightmare.

She wants at him—to rake his eyeballs with her claws but also to have him near her and tell her it’s going to be okay.

That one day she and I will be able to forgive him.

Mostly me—the human part of me holds grudges as long as the Mississippi river—maybe longer.

I, on the other hand, wasn’t even sure if I wanted it to be okay.

I wondered if this feeling would ever go away. Would I be sitting next to him while we were surrounded by grandchildren and still not be able to see anything except him with that tramp at the very moment when he was supposed to be only mine?

Because right now that was all I could see.

“I’m not surprised. He likes to see a lot of girls.” I turned to the window before wiping away the ever-present wetness from my cheeks.

“Don’t do that.” Her voice carried concern. All of their voices were laden with worry.

“What? Lia? Don’t tell the truth? Don’t say that he is a two-timing, three-timing, maybe even a twenty-five-timing man—slut?

In the reflection of the window I saw her pull the collar of her shirt over her mouth to stop me from seeing her smile even though my back was turned,

My sister clears her throat and shakes her head. “A man slut. That’s a new one. I almost want to write that one down and tell Tarrow.”

“You should. It’s a new one.” One side of my mouth pulls up into an almost grin. Almost is the closest it gets lately.

The silence that followed choked me.  I couldn’t help it. There I was on the verge of something great-something that I’d wanted my entire life and he ruins it.

He ruins the Precious.

Oh, Creator, I was starting to sound like Gollum. If my hair falls out and I start that hacking and gagging thing, Aspen’s ass is mine to beat.

It was time to move on. I’d known it for a while, but, to be honest, I’d run out of foul names for my beastly mate. That meant the holding out was over.

“I’ve decided some things, Dahlia.”

She got up and I could hear the squeak of clothes hangers as she filed through my outfits in the closet. Aspen had even ruined shopping for me. I went out a week ago and tried to buy a dress to console myself, but it didn’t work. “Oh yeah? Tell me.”

“Tomorrow I’m going to register for the Fall semester and get a job on campus—and if it’s not too late, try to get a dorm room.”

The last hanger stopped dead.

“Come on, Cia, you’re taking this too far. At least speak to him before you decide to run out like this.”

The vomit bubbled up in my throat again. “No, taking it too far would be moving to Chile and becoming a professional cliff diver. This is preserving my sanity—whatever is left of it. I know I’m going to catch hell from everyone else. Can’t you be the one that doesn’t give it to me? Please?”

She sighed, heavy and long. “So that’s it? You’re ending the mating?”

“There never was a mating.”

Thank the Creator my sister couldn’t sniff out a lie.

 You can find your copy of Beholden HERE.