Saturday, May 19, 2007

Another Recommended Read. I highly suggest trying this one out.

Book 2 in the Hot in the Saddle series.

Clay Russell had plans. Win the Nationals in bull-riding, then start his own spread breeding horses. Instead his family roped him into leaving Arizona to get a struggling ranch in North Carolina back on its feet.

He didn’t expect it to be something beyond his ability. He didn’t expect Rusty Blackhawk to be a woman. Or a witch. But the little bundle of dynamite lit his fuse in more ways than one. Keeping his mind on the job and his hands off the saucy little Rusty was taking all his control, and then some.

Rusty had no choice but to take the Russells’ offer and partner up with them. She wasn’t expecting to like Clay Russell. But it was mighty hard to ignore the tall, handsome cowboy when her body—and her soul—was saying “yes! yes! yes!”

Neither of them expected the fireball of passion that exploded between them, or the danger that would threaten their lives. But it was nothing a little bit of magic—and a whole lot of love—couldn’t fix.

Monday, May 14, 2007

Its just not my day.... Or my dogs

My poor little Pomeranian Cato. I love him. He's beautiful, and friendly and playful and always wants to be a good puppy.

Unless being a good puppy means letting you groom him, then he turns into the demon dog. Wiggling, growling, threatening to snap at me. I mean, he gets GROUCHY.
So, okay, I'm thinking, the grouchy dog can go to the groomer.

So, I take my long silky haired Cato to the groomer. I say, Do Not Shave My Puppy. Groom him out and trim him up, especially around the hindquarters where he can be prone to get messy sometimes because the hair was so damned long.

So, I leave my puppy in what I was assured was capable hands and returned a few hours later.

God, if this is an indication of what of the week is going to be like, I think I'm gonna find a hole to hide in.

I pick up my puppy, and he was SHAVED. All but his neck and head.
Their excuse? His undercoat was matted.
EXCUSE ME. DUH!! Didn't I say he won't let me comb him or brush him? Did I not SAY do not SHAVE MY PUPPY!!!
I need to find a cave to hide in. My puppy is hiding from me. He glares at me now. I really don't think he's happy with me....

Thursday, May 10, 2007

A definite RECOMMENDED READ. You have to check this one out

Hanging By A Moment by Susie Charles. A unique and erotic paranormal tale.

COMING 11 MAY! Book 2 in the Were Watching series: Hanging By A Moment by Susie Charles
ISBN: 9781419911354


Ziggy Trudeau, Were Watching’s Mr. Responsible, neither wants nor needs a mate.

Blocked to the whole thought of taking a mate due to a horrific incident that still haunts him, Ziggy is totally unprepared when he meets Summer Grayson, and his mating instinct goes off the radar. She’s about as far from his “typical” woman as it’s possible to get.

Summer, still tentatively feeling her way among people again after an attack by an ex-lover that almost killed her, is knocked six ways to Sunday when the hunky werewolf makes a move on her. But her ex-lover is still searching for her, bent on hurting her again. Ziggy, so protective of Summer that no other man can even breathe near her without having a death wish, appoints himself as Summer’s personal “bodyguard”, his sole focus being to “protect” her.

The only person who believes that’s the reason is Ziggy, so deep in denial he can’t see the forest for the trees.

But if Ziggy wants more from Summer, he needs to come to terms with his past and make up his mind—fast! He’s going to have to fight for his mate…to the death.

EXCERPT Hanging By A Moment

Ziggy’s whole body tightened as he finally caught sight of the “who” Rico’s eyes were latched onto. A lady in a deep ruby-red cheongsam with side slits from ankle to just short of indecent, showing a flash of thighs in black silk stockings and four-inch heels as she walked. Long, dead-straight, blue-black hair fell in a glossy rope from the ponytail she wore high on her head, a dainty mask covering her eyes providing a hint of mystery.

Yeah baby, he thought as the vision headed their way. A steady throb set up in his groin, and it was no wonder. The dress she wore was neither flashy nor as overtly sexual as the clothing most of the females in the club wore. In fact it was simple and understated by comparison—a touch of feminine sophistication in a world dominated by leather and chains—and amplified her considerable charms to the extreme. But the effect was so overwhelmingly sexy, so…classy. Definitely very classy. “Who is she?”

Unbidden, a vision of her naked sprang to mind, her riding him, all that long hair falling around them in a shiny curtain as he gripped her waist and thrust up inside her. The image was so real his cock surged inside his pants, pinching against the studs on his fly. The throb became an uncomfortable pounding and he was glad for the industrial strength studs—making an introduction by having his cock bust out of his pants was not the way he preferred to impress ladies.

Ignoring the aching discomfort, Ziggy sniffed the air discreetly, trying to pinpoint her particular scent. And when he caught it—a soft orange blossom fragrance—every nerve ending in his body rioted, his cock going from hard to rock-solid stiff so fast he jolted, slipping a little off the barstool. Taking the hint, he stood, giving the steel-hard pike in his pants a bit more room.

Rico cast a curious eye over his shoulder at Ziggy and grinned. “Oh, you’ve finally seen something you like?”

“Give me a break, Rico. A man would have to be dead not to like that.”

“Even so,” chuckled Rico.

“Funny. Who’s the comedian now?” Ziggy rolled his eyes. “So?”

“She’s my hostess.”

“You have a hostess? Since when?”

“Only on the weekends.” Rico cast Ziggy a sideways glance. “It certainly has been a while, hasn’t it…”

Well that would explain why he hadn’t seen her—he’d made a few forays to Dark Side over the past months, but they’d been mostly midweek when things were a little quieter. “And she does what, exactly?”

“Keeps the customers happy.”


“Not what you’re thinking, my friend. Summer is off limits.”

Summer…summer… “This wouldn’t be the ‘summer’ of the ‘summer bet’, would it?” The name certainly fit. Sultry, even the scent of her reminded him of warm nights, sea breezes…naked bodies sliding over silky sheets… In particular his and hers.

“You got it. We had a small wager on a new lady member I’ve had my eye on. I lost…” Rico watched Summer, his eyebrow lifting as he scanned her from head to toe. “Or so I thought.”

“But has she…does she ever…” Ziggy coughed to cover the husky croak in his voice.

The deception didn’t fool Rico and he let out a short bark of a laugh before turning serious. “No. Not that most of the Doms in here wouldn’t grab her in a second if she gave them half a chance.”

As they watched, Summer stopped at a table. Ziggy knew the three men she spoke to—by sight, at least. Although two of the men had their subs with them, he watched in growing aggravation as she was pulled, laughing, onto the lap of Miles Romansky, the owner of the largest trucking firm in the state. The man was well-known as being partial to the more hardcore fetishes, and Ziggy’s whole body stiffened and went on alert as the man pulled her closer, looking up at her with a determined expression on his face.

The feel of Rico’s fingers gripping his arm made him aware that he’d actually taken a step toward them. “It will be fine. Just watch.”

With some reluctance he took his seat again. Unable to relinquish the tension zinging through his body, Ziggy watched in amazement as Summer smiled at the overbearing Dom and whispered something in his ear. The hardened expression erased so that the man smiled and laughed, caressing her generous ass in an almost affectionate way before he kissed her palm briefly and released her so that she could stand.

“Damn!” Ziggy let out the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

“She does have a way about her, doesn’t she?” said Rico, fondness, almost pride in his tone.

She had a way that Ziggy was dying to get to know all right. Preferably with his cock first and her mouth later. Except it seemed to be taking forever for her to reach them. Dammit!

He was distracted momentarily as his view of Summer was blocked by the lady in red. Since her subtle “messages” had failed to do the job, she was trying the more direct approach, and stood in front of him, not saying a word, her “message”, though, quite blatant.

It was patently obvious now to Ziggy why she hadn’t managed to snag his attention on any of her previous forays past him. Compared to the understated elegance of Summer, the “Lady in Red” barely rated a first glance, let alone a second. Brash, a surly curl to her highly glossed lips, even the outfit she wore was like a billboard advertising what she had to offer, rather than one to entice and seductively lure a discerning male. Irritated at having his observation of Summer interrupted, he faced the woman, his expression impassive.

“Your name?”

“Mindy, sir.”

It was the slight slur on the title that made him stiffen.

“Well, Mindy, I’m not sure if you’re new or not, but if you want to get a Dom’s attention, this is not the way to do it. Now move away.”


He glowered at her. “Move. Away.”

When she pouted and walked off in a huff, a breath of relief whistled through his lips, earning him a soft laugh from Rico.

He was annoyed, though, that during that small distraction, another male, one he wasn’t familiar with, had swung Summer out onto the dance floor.

Every possessive, dominant bone in his body hardened as he watched the man hold Summer close, one hand sliding down her back to hold her at waist level while the other one caressed down over the womanly swell of her hip, then buttock, holding her firm against him as they did a slow bump and grind to the heavy sensual beat.

The thought of anyone else touching her like that made him choke on the irritation that surged through him, and when the man’s head dipped down to whisper something in her ear, Ziggy rose from his barstool, hands clenching and unclenching, unable to sit still with the restless energy infecting him. A surge of biting hunger, so strong he could almost taste it, filled him. And he wasn’t the only one—a continuous rumble vibrated through him from the wolf inside.

Ziggy turned to see Rico looking at him, rather than Summer, sappy smile gone. “So, what’s the deal, Rico?” he said, trying to flush the tension from his body and force a casualness to his words in spite of the unreasonable, unfamiliar emotions afflicting him. “Is she yours? Is she taken?”

Rico wasn’t fooled for a second and cast a knowing eye over him. “My, my. I do believe I detect a spark of interest. Will wonders never cease…”

“Smart-ass. Just answer the questions.”

“I don’t know…maybe I should make you sweat a bit…”

“You know, I’m sure that DJ must have a copy of YMCA there somewhere…”

“Oooh, nasty!” Rico’s eyes flared and a mock-snarl tilted his upper lip. “Fine, she’s a very, very dear friend…no, she’s not mine, no, she’s not taken, and…” he locked eyes with Ziggy, “she’s under my personal protection. All my other regulars know it, and now you do too.”


Rico’s eyes turned frosty, the ever-present humor absent for once, his expression deadly serious. “Anyone who hurts her dies. Simple.”

Ziggy was taken aback by the chilling menace in Rico’s tone. But he’d spent too many years reading the men he worked with, fought with through three tours of duty in the Special Forces, tuning in to undercurrents that often told more than words. So his ire of moments before abated slightly as incredulity swept through him at the change that had come over his friend—he’d bet his last dime that Rico was in love with the woman. It was the only explanation he could think of.

Rico looked away as their gazes settled once more on Summer.

“Hang on.” Ziggy swung narrowed eyes at Rico. “Protected, how?”

“We are…linked.”

“Sonofabitch! You’ve fucking bitten her?” He forced the words out through clenched teeth. “Why? And you’d better have a damn good reason.”

Rico sat back, leaning his elbows on the padded armrest of the bar, and raised an eyebrow at Ziggy’s outburst. “My, my. Aren’t we the possessive one.”

Ziggy turned back to Summer, who had left her dance partner—about fucking time!—feeling a crushing need to get closer, touch her, hold her, beat at him as she finally neared them. “She’s mine,” he whispered under his breath, and then wondered what the hell he was saying.

“Oh, really?” Rico flashed him a quick grin then stood as Summer approached.

Damned vamps and their super-sharp hearing!

“Yes, well, you might want to run that by Summer first,” Rico continued. “In here, what Summer wants, Summer gets.” Rico turned to the lady in question, a big smile on his face. “Well, well, if it isn’t little Suzie Wong…”

Suzie Wong? What the hell happened to “Summer”?

“Howdy, cowboy,” a sultry voice purred. “In that getup, a gal…or a guy will be thinkin’ you’re lookin’ for a ride tonight…”

“Wench!” laughed Rico, wrapping his arm around her waist. “I thought I lost the bet. So what’s with your outfit?”

“I decided to take pity on you, old man. Now we can both look ridiculous. By the way, who’s Suzie Wong?”

Ridiculous? thought Ziggy in disbelief. Rico, maybe—no, definitely—but Summer? Hell no! But yeah, the Suzie Wong bit had him beat, too.

“Old movie with William Holden and Nancy Kwan…The World of Suzie Wong…” Rico stopped when two blank faces greeted his words. “Never mind. I’m obviously showing my age…”

“And then some,” mumbled Ziggy. Rico responded with a dour look in reply.

But Ziggy’s attention was pulled back to Summer as she tugged at the dress, the movement of trying to smooth it down over her generous hips just drawing his eyes to the seductive curves his hands were itching to mold and caress. “These dresses are designed for tiny little Asian ladies who have two percent body fat, and the curves of a pre-pubescent teenager—do you have any idea how hard it was to pour my body into this thing? You need to stop Michel feeding me all that Gateau de Sirop. I feel like I’ll bust a seam if I breathe out. God help me if I sneeze.” She fingered the fringe on Rico’s vest and chuckled.

Sexual hunger like he hadn’t felt in years flooded through Ziggy as his eyes followed the full curve of her ass. When she lifted a leg to rest a foot delicately clad in a strappy stiletto on the rung of Rico’s stool, the split in her skirt widened, and Ziggy’s mouth dried out at the generous expanse of thigh she revealed in sheer black stockings.

Rico pulled her close. “Well, it was worth every calorie. You look beautiful. Now come here and give me a kiss.”

Ziggy had to grit his teeth as Summer, laughing, wound her arms around Rico’s neck, the vamp wrapping her in a full body hug that set Ziggy’s teeth on edge. It was hard to say what she really looked like, even close up, since the little mask covered the top half of her face. But that mouth alone was the stuff of fantasies. Small, tipping up at the corners, with a slightly fuller lower lip that just begged to be bitten and tugged on.

His groin clenched when she kissed Rico—and it was no “hello” peck like the other men received. If there was any tongue in there, he might just turn rabid. In fact, he wanted nothing more than to rip her out of the vamp’s arms and drag her away. Run her to ground… Oh yeah, chase her until she submitted, on her hands and knees, offering her swollen, dripping cunt up to him and then cover her body with his, burying himself inside her over and over until… Until what?

A low, warning growl rumbled out of Ziggy’s chest like a long roll of thunder, and he stopped. Shook himself. Sweat had broken out all over his body and he was so close to the change it shocked him. Just to be sure, he held up a trembling hand, relieved to see it looked normal. God, what the hell was wrong with him? The wolf never came out unless he set it free. And here he was about to go all furry and he hadn’t even realized, hadn’t even felt it coming. He’d never been like this with a woman before. Never. He came to the club, purged some demons with a willing sub, got some relief, and slipped back into his life again. No ties, no commitment, and definitely no mating. Just how he liked it.

But this… He had no fucking idea what was wrong with him, but he was sure as hell going to find out.

Wednesday, May 09, 2007

Forbidden Pleasures
Bound Hearts
Copyright 2007 Lora Leigh
St. Martins Griffin Release
June 6, 2007
ISBN: 0312368712
ISBN-13: 9780312368715

Sinclair’s Gentleman’s Club
Alexandria, Virginia

“I resigned” John “Mac” McCoy picked up his drink, sipped, and let the calming heat of the whiskey seep into his system.
“So I heard.” His best friend and now former partner, Jethro Riggs, took the seat across from him, set the whiskey bottle and glass carefully on the table, and leaned back to stare at his friend as he poured his own drink. “Honeymoon isn’t even over yet and your resignation landed on the desk. Wish you had told me. I could have won the office bet on how long you’d make it.”
Jethro’s rakish smile went well with his overly long black hair and wicked blue eyes. The short, scruffy black beard and mustache drew feminine eyes, but the cold, bleak shadows in his gaze held them back.
Mac worried about Jethro. When he left, he knew the other man would go from case to case without stopping to enjoy life. And life was there to be enjoyed.
“I could have used the cash, man.” Jethro’s smile was laced with regret.
Mac snorted at the thought. “Cheaters never win, Jethro.”
“Yeah, yeah. So I hear. So, what are you going to do? Security?”
Mac grinned. There weren’t a lot of jobs out there that appealed to an former undercover F.B.I. agent, but Mac had always made certain he had a fallback position.
“Farming?” Jethro’s eyes narrowed. “Hell, no.”
“I still have that farm in North Carolina. I’ve saved enough to try to make a go at it. With Keiley’s computer work and a little side work myself working internet investigations, we should do well. It beats getting shot at on a regular basis.”
Jethro only shook his head, a knowing light filling his shadowed blue eyes.
“And your membership here?”
That part sucked. Mac stared around the dark wood walls, the open space, the bar at one end of what had once been a grand ballroom, the fireplace crackling at the other end.
In between were two pool tables,and several seating arrangements with large comfortable chairs, televisions, newspapers, and tables a man could put his feet on. But it wasn’t the ambience that drew the members to the club. It was the chance to socialize with men who understood their ways, accepted them, understood them.
“I gave Ian notice earlier,” he said quietly.
He was aware of the bomb he had just dropped, aware that Jethro had been waiting, even more than the others in the club, for the day Mac would choose a third.
The club catered to men with a particular sexual taste. Men who had seen the darkness in the world for whatever reason, and searched for peace in the extremity of sharing their lovers with other men.
Men who worshipped the female body. Who believed sex was an adventure and adventures were always more exciting when shared with someone who understood the particular pleasures to be found in pushing a woman to her sexual limits. In giving her more pleasure than she could have conceived possible.
Mac loved it. He thrived on it. He came here to unwind, to drink, to discuss world affairs, and to either choose a third for his latest lover or to become a third to another man’s lover.
At least, he used to come here for that.
Six months of marriage, and the pressure was beginning to tell on him. The knowledge that the club members were just waiting to see who he would choose to break his wife into the ménage lifestyle he practiced was beginning to fray at his control. Knowing Jethro was growing more distant, more certain that the woman he had given to Mac would never know his touch, was starting to eat at him.
He knew Jethro’s feelings for Keiley. Just as he knew that the other man would have never given into them.
“You haven’t told her yet, have you?” Jethro said then. “I thought you were going to.”
He had met Jethro during his first year in Quantico where they had been paired together for a training exercise. Mac’s easier, more relaxed demeanor had slowly rubbed off on the too rigid, too somber Jethro Riggs. And once they learned that ménage were the other’s preferred sexual activity, they had become fast friends.
Not that the friendship hadn’t been without its problems. They were both dominant men, both tended to want to control the sexual situations that involved their women. Until they learned they each had their own distinctive areas that interlaced perfectly in those relationships.
Mac tended to indulged them his lovers emotionally, while Jethro indulged them in more physical areas.
For years he and Jethro had trained together, worked together, and shared their women together.
Until Mac met Keiley.
“She’s heard the rumors.” Mac sipped at his drink, wishing he could just toss it back and let the fiery burn blaze through the regret in his gut.
“And I told her it was in the past.” He looked around the room again before meeting Jethro’s gaze. “It’s going to stay in the past. For now”
Keiley had come to his bed a virgin. Trusting. Innocent. She would never understand her husband’s need to see another man cover her, pumping inside her, nor, he believed, would she be able to handle a ménage that would include a man she didn’t love.
Keiley would have to love any man she took into her bed, even as a third. But he knew the curiosity was there. He had seen it in the flash of heat in her eyes as she questioned him. But Mac knew that right now, introducing her into the idea of a ménage relationship he envisioned wasn’t something Keiley could accept.
Perhaps later. He was counting on later. His new wife was adventurous, fiery, and curious as hell. But her youth held her back whereas with other women, it lent freedom. Keiley’s past experience with gossip and the destruction that came with it, would never allow for the sexual games and the eventual bond Mac intended to see her forge with himself and Jethro.
Until his wife was more settled, until maturity lent her the edge she would need to overcome her fears, that wasn’t going to happen. It didn’t mean Mac was going to forget about it. It just meant that for the time being, his plans would have to wait.
Moving her back to his hometown, would help. Small towns and gossip and the ways of navigating was something Keiley needed to understand. A ménage wasn’t tantamount to the hell she had endured as a child. And maturity would give her the insight she needed on how to handle it. Until she gained that, his own sexual hungers, and Jethro’s would have to wait.
“Doesn’t work that way, Mac,” Jethro sighed then.
“I can make it work.” He was confident of that. “I made this damned job work, I can make anything work.”
Jethro’s jaw clenched, and for a moment, bleak, furious pain and impatience sparkled in the blue depths before it was gone, iced over and the agent he had become returned.
“Speaking of the job, were you any closer to tracking down that internet stalker’s whereabouts? The director was going nuts over that when I left the office.”
Mac shook his head allowing the change of subjet. “I turned the case over to Dell Robert’s he knows the computers better than I do, and he’s just finished up a major case. He has the time to deal with it. I’ll help him online if he needs it.”
The case was drawing a lot of fire. The stalker found his victims online, researched them, acquired their personal information and spent months terrorizing them. In the latest case, he had finally attacked and nearly killed his victim. He was escalating dangerously.
“I’m going to miss you, my friend.” Jethro lifted his drink in a toast. “To the good ol’ days.”
“To the future,” Mac amended, tipping his glass to Jethro’s, then bringing it to his lips before staring around the room once again.
He had drunk here, laughed here, found friends here. Hell, he had even fucked on most of the tables in the room here. Occasionally a married member had petitioned to allow his wife in long enough to get to know the members he had shortlisted to act as a third. Many of those instances had ended up with the ménage playing out before the couple left the club.
There had been two female members at one time. One had married and dropped out of membership, though her husband still occasionally brought home a friend.
That relationship was working out much better than Mac had ever thought it would. Most of the married men in the club had found a way to balance those dark hungers with the women they loved.
Just as most of them had learned their hungers through the darkness of pasts they rarely spoke of, or lives lived within the shadowed corners of deceit and lies.
They all had their reasons for the hungers that tormented the just as Mac did. But for him, the thought of his wife’s happiness meant more to him than satisfying the shadowed specter that lurked beneath his surface.
“Keep in touch, buddy,” Jethro said as he rose to his feet. “It won’t be the same around here without you.”
“I’m just a phone call away.” Mac grinned. “Call anytime.”
But don’t visit. Not for a while. Not until his wife could handle thought of another man in her life as well as Mac.

Jethro nodded, but his gaze was knowing, haunted. He knew what Mac meant.
As his friend walked away Mac sat back in his chair, gazed around again, and tried to let the atmosphere seep inside him.
A frown tugged at his brow, though. He’d have to remember to remind Dell to requestion the latest victim and her husband. There was something that kept nagging at him about her statement. Something she had left out. Something he knew he should have asked her, but he couldn’t think of what.
He would call Dell from the house tonight, and then put it behind him.
Within the next four weeks he would be out of Virginia and backing Scotland Neck. North Carolina was far enough away from his old friends and his hungers to allow him to contain them for a while.
Keiley was worth the sacrifice. There had never been another woman who could make him feel as she did. But from the moment he met her, he had realized there was something about her that warmed the cold reaches of his soul and eased the dark loneliness that had always been so much a part of him.
A man didn’t walk away from that. No matter the obstacles. Once he saw his future in a feminine gaze, he found a way to make all parts of that relationship work. And that what he was doing. Finding a way to make it work for all of them.
Especially Keiley. Her natural desires and adventurous personality had been restrained. The gossip concerning he father’s embezzling from the company he worked had destroyed her. At seventeen she had lost her home,, her father had been imprisoned and her mother had omitted suicide.
There had been no one left for their community to punish except Keiley. They had watched her, gossiped about her, predicted her downfall and her lack of morals. If he dared let her know how desperately he needed to see her beneath Jethro now, it would terrify her. The rejection of it would be instant, and it would never falter.
He would have to steer her gently toward it. And once she grew to accept a need for those darker hungers that he saw in her eyes, then he would have steer the relationship gently as well.
Jethro craved Keiley. He had seen her first and pushed her at Mac, despite his hunger for her. Mac knew the way to a woman’s heart, but he also knew his friend. Keiley had
already stolen Jethro’s heart.
Not that Jethro would ever admit it or do anything about it. Mac knew that. A committed relationship was something that Jethro shied from as fiercely as Keiley from gossip.
His lips quirked at the thought. The woman he loved and the friend that was more than a brother to him. The three of them together would make a hell of a relationship. Once Mac managed to get the three of them together.
Getting there would be the hard part. Waiting would strain his patience to its limits he feared. And if it never happened?
He would live with it. Ultimately it came down to Keiley. If she could accept it. If she could love Jethro with the same intensity that she loved Mac, then it would work.
If it didn’t? If he lost them both, it would destroy him. Obstacles stood in his path. It wouldn’t be easy. But if his hunch was right, then the future that could stretch out before all three of them was one worth fighting for. It was worth risking for.
Sharing his wife was considered a forbidden pleasure. It wasn’t called that without reason. It was breaking rules, stepping past boundaries, and facing his own fears. His fear of losing. His fear of becoming to controlling.
In the end, either they would all win, or they would all lose. Mac was betting, he was praying, on the win.

Tuesday, May 01, 2007

It's been a while. I had several emails reminding me that my blog was suffering, and they were so right. Thank you to those readers who reminded me to post. I get overwhelmed with deadlines and sometimes, I forget to keep you updated as I should, and that's very bad of me. But there are more upcoming books for your reading pleasure. At least, I do hope you find pleasure in reading them.

Lets start first with this weekends booksigning.
I'll be in Kingsport Tennessee this weekend, signing all my available print books. So, if you're close enough to come out visit, we would love to see you. Also signing with me is Trista Michaels you can visit her website at She'll be signing for her novella in White Hot Holidays from Ellora's Cave.
Also there will be the owner of Samhain Publishing, Christina Brashear with many Samhain Prints for your pleasure. You'll want to check out these books and if you have any questions for Samhain she will be there to answer them.

That books signing will be held at Book Rack, 2400 Ft. Henry Drive, Kingsport, TN 37664
Phone # 423-245-1234

We look forward to seeing you there.

And what's upcoming?
Be watching in the next few days for excerpts from Forbidden Pleasures and Hidden Agenda's releasing June 2007. I promise, just another day or two and I'll have those here.

Thanks for checking and I hope to see you at the booksigning this weekend.