I’ve lived with vampires in my life for a long, long time. I know how strange that sounds, but let me explain.

All my life, I’ve felt as though I live in alternate worlds. The waking one and the one I slip into eagerly as often as I can get away with it—when I’m bored, in class or work, when I walk or swim, when I crawl into bed. My daydreams are vivid, and they often run with a “story track” of several weeks before I finish one and move to the next.

And I thought everyone dreamed as vividly as I do until I asked my then-husband, “What do you daydream about?” and discovered some people don’t—at all—unless it was to run through a scenario for work or practice a speech in their head.

I can’t imagine not having those other places to go to when I’m still or can act on “auto-pilot”. What about you? Are your daydreams like other lives? Or do you daydream rarely or not at all?

I hope you’ll catch up on the Night Fall stories! If you happen to read one, think about leaving a review. Other readers do pay attention to what you say.

Comment for a chance to win one of the prequel books:  Sm{B}itten, Truly, Madly…Deadly, Knight in Transition, Wolf in Plain Sight, or Silent is the Knight. Plus, I’ll give away a $5 Amazon gift card to another lucky winner! 

Sidney Coffey, Seattle’s “News at Nine” girl, uncovers the scoop of a lifetime and her ticket into serious journalism. The only problem is—without proof—no one’s going to believe the victims of recent gang killings are in fact “undead” and vampires!

With her gut telling her there’s an even bigger story lurking beneath the surface, she decides to beard a reclusive vampire master in his den for an interview. But meeting the master only complicates things. For a woman with a voracious sexual appetite, the tall, dark and gloomy vamp proves an irresistible challenge.

When a reporter trespasses on his estate, Navarro is at first amused then annoyed that the little baggage is close to putting together the pieces of a dangerous plot involving an old enemy and a group of murdered geneticists. To keep her safe, Navarro issues an invitation he won’t let her refuse.

“Miss, are you all right?”

Sidney had already decided the evening couldn’t get any worse. Now Lurch was leering at her tits.

Unfortunately, she’d fallen in the only patch of light cast by the streetlamp on the other side of the wall. She sat up and crossed her arms over her chest. “I think I’m all right—the grass is soft,” she said, fighting to keep irritation out of her voice. She’d hoped to reach the front door before being escorted off the property.

“I brought you a blanket.”

Sidney stared at the folded bundle he held out then glanced up at his face. It was really a rather kind face—if a little cadaverous. White, bristly hair stuck up around his head, and bushy eyebrows, looking like fluffy white beetles, shadowed his deep-set eyes. And he was alarmingly tall.

Sidney grabbed the blanket and wrapped it around her shoulders. Then she struggled to her feet, assisted by his dry, bony hand. “Just point me to the gate,” she muttered, hoping he’d let her walk out with what was left of her dented pride. If a squad car showed up to take her to the station, she’d never hear the end of it.

“If you don’t mind my saying so, climbing over the fence was a very foolish thing to do.”

“It seemed like a plan at the time,” she said under her breath. “Of course, my Plan Bs always suck.”

His lips twitched. “Well, I’m glad you weren’t seriously injured.”

“Nope, I’m right as rain. I fell on my head—the hardest part of my body.” A chill wind picked up, and she gathered the blanket closer around her. “I’ll be on my way.” With a grimace of a smile, she turned toward the gate. Best to make a quick getaway.

“Ah…miss!”

Sidney grimaced. Shouldn’t she have known her escape wouldn’t be that easy? Murphy was running the show.

“You’re shivering. How about I make you a hot cup of tea before you leave.”

Sidney shot him a glance. What was he up to? She’d recognized his voice. He was the one who had turned her away at the gate. Was he planning to keep her here until the cops showed up? Or was he really offering her a kindness?

Her mama had never accused her of exercising an ounce of common sense. “I am cold. Tea would be lovely.”

The old man led her around the side of the house, through a darkened fragrant garden, and into the kitchen. Warmth embraced her, and Sidney was sure steam rose from her damp hair and skin.

He pointed to an inviting alcove in the corner of the kitchen. “Have a seat at the table while I rummage for the pot.”

As she sat at the cozy wooden table, Sidney couldn’t help thinking how ironic it was—this domestic little scene playing out in a vampire’s den.

“While the pot is boiling, I’ll search for something you can wear,” the elderly man said, then left through another door.

She counted to twenty before following.

The door led down a hallway, which opened into a large room with cream-colored walls and heavy, dark oak furnishings. She’d bet her paycheck the paintings gracing the pale walls were original, Old World art. Despite numerous overhead electrical fixtures, candles were lit in wall sconces and on the mantle above a massive fireplace.

“A little old fashioned, aren’t you, Mr. Navarro?” Sidney muttered. Where was he? And did she really have the courage to seek a lion in his den? She hated to admit it, even to herself, but she was nervous.

Moses had said the master was a civilized vamp, but in the end, weren’t they all ghouls?

She hitched the sagging blanket higher and chose another door, which led into a dark, paneled study. A fire crackled in a hearth, but the room appeared empty. Perhaps the master wasn’t at home after all.

But his desk might reveal answers to some of her questions.

With a quick glance back at the living room, she quietly closed the door behind her.

“Miss Coffey, I think you’ve taken a wrong turn,” a deep, lightly accented voice said.

Sidney whirled toward a leather armchair hidden in the shadows. Firelight flickered to reveal the outline of a man seated there. She didn’t need two guesses to figure out who he was.

She drew a deep breath, racking her brain for a good excuse for her presence. “Um…Mr. Navarro. I was looking for you.” She stepped deeper into the room—but the blanket didn’t come with her.

She grasped frantically for the edges as it parted over her shoulders, but in her nervousness she stumbled forward. The blanket pulled away as she righted herself.

Her hands flew to her breasts. Good lord, can this evening get any worse? “M-mister Navarro,” she stammered, hoping the dim lighting hid her burning cheeks and everything else. “Um…I seem to have caught my blanket in the door.”

“Lovely though your breasts are, I think they should leave,” he said, his tone lacking inflection.

The flatness of his voice, and the fact she couldn’t read his expression in the shadows, left her unnerved. She hadn’t thought through her plan past getting onto the property. Confronting the vamp himself, she realized just how precarious her situation was. He was a bloodsucker after all. Still, he’d asked her to leave—not become a dinner entrée.

Humiliated and more than a little scared, Sidney decided a hasty retreat was her best option. She turned back to the door and tugged at the knob, but the door didn’t budge. She cursed under her breath and tugged again. Then her shoulders slumped in defeat. “I, uh…I’ve wedged the door closed. Could you help me?”

He sighed behind her, and leather creaked as he rose.

Sidney covered her breasts again and stepped aside.

As he approached, his features were revealed in candlelight.

Her breath left her lungs in a whoosh. She’d heard the master vampire was handsome—but not one of her sources had mentioned he was downright beautiful—or that his dark gaze could pierce like a skewer.

She fought the urge to step farther away, but then her fear aroused anger within herself. Sidney Coffey was no mouse. She lifted her chin.

One black, perfectly arched brow rose, mocking her show of courage. He reached past her and easily pulled open the door. “I trust you can find your way out.”

The silky tone of his voice sent a shiver up her back, and her nipples drew tight and pointed beneath her palms.

From terror, she told herself. Certainly not from any sensual awareness. Never mind that this close his height and lean, muscled frame made her feel very small and vulnerable. A sensation that never failed to stir her libido.

And the goose bumps lifting on her skin couldn’t be caused by the midnight-colored hair that brushed the tops of his broad shoulders, or the olive complexion that contrasted darkly with his snowy cotton shirt.

Her gaze lifted. Black, fathomless eyes glittered back in a slightly narrow face, saved from appearing effeminate by his square jaw and the masculine shape of his mouth.

She lingered over that mouth. Perfectly symmetrical, not too wide, or too narrow—and firm.

Sidney swallowed and slowly returned to his unblinking stare. With her own mouth dry as a desert, she swallowed. It was now or never. She wouldn’t get a second chance. She lowered her hands from her breasts and extended one sweaty palm. “Mr. Navarro, I’m Sidney Coffey, and I’d like to ask you a few questions.”

Just a quick FYI!

Knight Edition, Night Fall Book 5, just went live!

“…an action packed, fast paced, scorching, erotic thriller. With delicious love scenes, wry humor and non-stop thrills, [Knight Edition] is a guaranteed page turner that’ll delight the reader.”

*~*~*~*

I swear half of the time I spend as a working writer is devoted to promotion. It’s sad, really. I’d love to write morning to mid-afternoon, and then have a “normal” life, but the nature of the publishing biz these days requires so much more of authors. We have to be multi-faceted, and some people do it really well. They make it look effortless. One of these days I’m going to kidnap one of those authors, chain her to my desk, and have her show me how she does it.

In the meantime, I limp through promotional activities. I have this blog and website (which is in serious need of updating!), and I spend time on Facebook, a little on Twitter, and too much on Pinterest doing un-authory things.

What I’ve really wanted to learn to do is make spiffy memes–you know those eye-catching advertisements authors produce. It gets very pricey having others do them, and while I bought a copy of Photoshop and uploaded it two years ago, I’m intimidated by it and haven’t used it even once.

A friend of mine, M.J. Fredrick, mentioned Canva. It’s free (gotta love that), and while it doesn’t do all the whizbang stuff Photoshop does, even a techno-moron like me can make some attractive ads.

Here’s what I’ve been playing with of late. What do you think?

For the Uncharted SEALs series:

Not ugly, right?

For the Night Fall series:

I missed doing one for Knight in Transition, but oh well. If you want to learn more about the stories, just click on my pretty memes. 🙂

Have you ever wished on a chip?

After a recent trip with my boys to the orthodontist, we stopped at Subway for lunch (an ortho appointment ritual) and each got a meal deal that included potato chips (one of my greatest weaknesses). The first chip I pulled out was a wish chip and I asked my boys if they knew what a wish chip was. Neither of them did. Since we don’t keep potato chips in the house (I mentioned that whole weakness thing, right?), this was not a parental fail … and nothing that I couldn’t correct.

Do you all know what a wish chip is?

It’s a chip that’s folded over. You put it on your tongue, careful it doesn’t touch the side of your mouth or teeth, make a wish, then crush it between your tongue and the roof of your mouth (that’s my favorite part).

Silly, right? But it’s so fun. A boyfriend taught me about wish chips over 25 years ago and even though he wasn’t worth keeping, the wish chip knowledge sustained. After all, if you’re going to eat something that has the potential to kill you (sodium, fat, pure bliss), you may as well enjoy it thoroughly!!

The heroine in my January release, Marrying For Love, loves potato chips as much as I do (except she gives in to the weakness constantly). Jill has a 14-year-old son and she taught him early on about the magic of a wish chip.

In my December release, The Sound of Circumstance, Stacie’s weakness is Chai Frappuccinos from Starbucks – and yes, that’s another little piece of my reality that has made it into the stories I write. I believe there’s no bad mood a Chai can’t fix. By the way, my boys insist on hitting Starbucks after the orthodontist and we always pray for a streetside parking space because that’s the only way I’ll stop. So far, we haven’t had an ortho trip that hasn’t included a stop for Chai.

What quirky things do you do with food or weaknesses do you have? I’m giving away a $5.00 Amazon gift card, drawn randomly from everyone who responds before October 11, 2015.

About the Author

Big dreamer and certifiable overachiever Susan Ann Wall embraces life at full speed and volume. She’s a beer and tea snob, can be bribed with dark chocolate, and the #1 thing on her bucket list is to be the center of a Bon Jovi flash mob.

A national bestselling author, Susan’s newest novel, The Sound of Circumstance, is available for pre-order at the links included below!

Amazon: https://amzn.to/1jA1sXU
Barnes and Noble: https://bit.ly/1j5yGPa
iTunes: https://apple.co/1jA1pvo
Kobo: https://bit.ly/1O4RZ6k

Learn about all of Susan’s books at www.susanannwall.com and connect with her at the links below:

Facebook:  www.facebook.com/susanannwall.author
Twitter: https://twitter.com/@susanannwall
Pinterest:  www.pinterest.com/susanannwall
Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Susan-Ann-Wall/e/B007NZU7X0
Goodreads:  www.goodreads.com/susanannwall
Newsletter: https://eepurl.com/nQ7wH

Well, it is October so discussing paranormal romance seems appropriate :-} Besides, it ties in so nicely with the lovely Venetian mask I’m giving away 😉

I write erotic romance inspired by the classics. That focus allows me to follow wherever the original story leads me. So far it has led me to contemporary cowboy romance, sci-fi romance and paranormal romance. Erotic paranormal romance is what I call my sweet spot. I don’t know about you, but I really enjoy reading paranormal because I’m never sure what kind of world I’ll discover.

Like most, I’m a fan of a good shifter or vampire romance as much as the next person. But I also like angels, ghosts, curses, special powers and anything else that might make the ordinary, extraordinary. In my own stories, I have all different types of paranormal:

In Masque, there are 73 ghosts and a hero who has been alive for over 150 years.

In Passion’s Poison, the heroine is cursed with genetic poisonous orgasms.

In Passion of Sleepy Hollow, the Sleepy Hollow village of 1790 appears in present day only one weekend a year.

And in my soon to be released Pleasures of Christmas Past, the Spirit of Christmas Past falls in love.

What type of paranormal romance is your favorite? Has there been one that was truly unique that you enjoyed? It seems a good time of year to take stock. After all, Halloween is at the end of this month 😉

That’s why I’ve made October my annual Mask Giveaway Month. I can’t leave Delilah’s blog without giving readers a chance to win one of the 7 hand decorated Venetian masks I’m giving away this month! And to celebrate this year, I have re-released Masque with a hot new cover. Here’s a short excerpt for your reading enjoyment, and don’t forget to enter the Rafflecopter for a chance to win. Good luck!

Always, Lexi
www.lexipostbooks.com

Rena Mills plans to turn an abandoned abbey into a haunted bed-and-breakfast to prove she can be successful without her ex-fiancé. What she finds inside is Synn MacAllistair, the distinguished, self-proclaimed Ghost Keeper. Her dreams soon fill with sexual cravings for him. But are they dreams?

Synn, born in 1828, is determined to free the souls of the resident spirits, blaming himself for bringing the Red Death that killed them. When Rena steps into the old Pleasure Palace, he’s sure he can take her through the after-midnight Pleasure Rooms and stoke her passion to complete the Masque so the souls can cross over. Her innocent fire makes him crave more, but it’s far too late for him.

As Rena begins her erotic journey, her heart becomes more involved with every sensual caress until she discovers by completing the Masque she would lose her ghosts. Synn’s betrayal wars with her compassion for her ghostly friends. Torn, she must make a choice between her financial security and freeing seventy-three trapped souls. Either way, she could lose her Synn.

Masque Excerpt:

Rena spun at the deep voice that caressed her senses. Before her stood a woman’s wet dream come to life, though as a respectable woman, she shouldn’t be having wet dreams, or so she’d been informed.

The man looked as if he’d stepped out of a nineteenth-century drawing room, except his coffee-brown hair hung loose about his shoulders. She was pretty sure it should have been tied in a queue to be proper. His entire demeanor projected upper class from his sharp nose, to his angular chin outlined by a neatly trimmed beard, to his broad-shouldered stance. A rather tall stance it was too, with one snugly encased leg crossed over the other. But his eyes stupefied her. They appeared gray, ancient, yet flickered with bright shards of blue.

Valerie recovered first, brandishing her tightly held candelabra as she stepped forward. “Who are you and what are you doing in here?”

He straightened and gave them a formal bow. “My name is Synn MacAllistair. That is Synn as in S Y N N. I’m the caretaker of the ghosts.”

Rena took a deep breath. She could feel her cheeks heating as his voice reverberated through her body. Sin fit him. When he moved his gaze from Valerie to herself, his intense scrutiny warmed her. She swallowed. “Uh, I didn’t think anyone lived here.”

His stare held hers captive. “I do.”

Valerie retreated to stand next to her. “Oh really. With a padlock on the outside of the gate?”

He raised his right brow, the look of arrogance worthy of Mr. Darcy. “There is a postern gate.”

Rena racked her brain. She’d heard that word before. Oh yes. “I thought only the owners of a castle knew the secret to that rear exit.”

He raised his brows together. “That is true but I desi—discovered it while following a small boy around the Abbey.”

Valerie crossed her arms. “A small boy?”

“Yes. The children in the neighborhood dare each other to get close to the Abbey. They want to see the ghosts, who are quite harmless to humans.” He gestured to the housekeeper. “Mrs. McMurray here will become more solid as the full moon approaches and will be pleased to help you in any way she can.”

They turned and stared at their ghost, having forgotten her. The older woman nodded vigorously, her white cap covering her gray hair falling to the side. Mrs. McMurray’s plump frame included pudgy arms sprouting from a short-sleeved blouse and a white apron that protected her skirt, but from the knees down, she didn’t exist at all.

Rena’s heart pounded. A real ghost. If what Synn said was true, that the ghosts would become solid, the possibilities for her new venture were endless. Could the ghosts serve breakfast to the guests? How would she pay them? She couldn’t resist asking. “Are you the one who keeps it so clean in here?”

Mrs. McMurray blushed and nodded again. She actually blushed.

Synn clarified. “She and a dozen maids have kept this place clean for centuries in the hopes that someone would come here to live. Do you plan to stay?”

She turned to answer him, but Valerie gave him a disapproving look. “The real estate agent didn’t say anything about anyone living here.”

He sighed, clearly bored. “No, I imagine he didn’t. He is what we refer to as a lickfinger.”

Rena chuckled at the strange word. She couldn’t help it. It sounded backward.

Valerie didn’t find the expression funny. “Well, you need to know, Rena owns this castle now, abbey, whatever you want to call it, and she has the right to throw you out.”

Rena grabbed her arm. “Valerie.” She changed her warning tone to a more pleasant octave as she addressed the sexy man in front of her. “You are of course welcome to stay, Synn. Perhaps you can help us understand the ghosts, the history of the Abbey and anything else that might be helpful.” She smiled encouragingly. She didn’t want him to leave.

He gave her an arrogant nod. “I would be happy to be of service. Perhaps I should start by helping you to bring your personal items upstairs as the footmen will not be solid enough to lift anything for another week.”

Another week? How strange. She didn’t remember seeing anything on television regarding ghosts changing with the moon. “Thank you. That would be perfect.” She could tell Valerie didn’t trust him. She, on the other hand, was thrilled to have him in the Abbey. Anyone who could help her succeed was welcome. The fact that the man was incredibly hot didn’t hurt either.

He nodded once and held his arm out to her. She looked at her friend and shrugged, then looped her arm with his. The second they made contact, a sizzling sensation raced across her skin.

He didn’t move. Did he feel it too? He gazed down at her, his face serious. “Shall we?”

She nodded, her throat having closed at his look. There was something sensual about his lips. They were strong, full and serious and made her want to taste him. Sheesh, hadn’t she learned anything from her failed engagement? She needed to keep her libido under control. Men like Synn wouldn’t appreciate her scandalous thoughts. Besides, who used phrases like “shall we”?

a Rafflecopter giveaway

We writers get asked all the time: “Where do your ideas come from?”

The answer to that is easy or hard, depending on your POV, the time of month, whether you’ve had your daily infusion of coffee… Okay, so they come from everywhere, and sometimes, from mysterious dream demons.

Can you tell it’s 2:42 in the morning after I dosed myself with Tramadol for a killer backache? So, I’m suffering from insomnia and a hazy fugue. I was lying there in bed, thinking about inspiration, and wishing my mind would just stop working because I really need to sleep, but this idea I had today wouldn’t leave me alone. Why today, you ask? Because I was invited to be part of a box collection with a very short deadline, and adrenaline works wonders for stimulating the muse!

I’m rambling. I know it, but right now I don’t care, because the idea I had wasn’t a new one. It was an old one I stalled on and killed over a year ago, but which now feels alive and well. Ready for another SEAL story? How about a SEAL helping a woman with PTSD? Not a soldier, a cop.

She dreams about her dead ex-partner every night, and wakes up after having experienced a change to the memory of that horrible day she lost her love. She can’t move past it, because it feels fresh every time she closes her eyes.

So, what’s a girl to do? Screw a SEAL. Well, of course, it’s not quite that easy—well, she is, because she just doesn’t give a damn and wants to feel something again. Plus, maybe if he exhausts her she’ll get some sleep. Okay, so maybe my needs and my PTSD-suffering cop are getting confused here. I really should try to go back to bed.

The only thing I know for certain is that I want to use this photo as a backdrop for the cover. Because hey, a girl can only move on if she goes island-hopping, right? Again, maybe I’m confusing my needs with hers.

So, want to help me with a title?

I thought “In Dreams” would be nice and very relevant to the story, but that’s been used quite a few times.

Then I thought, “In Her Dreams”, but again, it’s been used a time or two and very recently. So, no.

I started thinking about songs with “dreams” somewhere in the title, and came up with “Dream a Little Dream”—but it’s too sweet, too used, and now I have that Mama and the Papas song playing in my head.

This story is the next in the Uncharted SEALs series, following Watch Over Me, Her Next Breath, and Through Her Eyes. I did think about “SEAL in Her Dreams”, but I didn’t use SEAL in any of the previous titles, and hell, SEAL this and that has been used-used-used! And I guess for very good reasons!

What do you think? Should I chunk “dreams”? Do you have an idea for a title? Don’t be afraid to just put something out there. You may have the perfect title, or your title might spark an idea!

I’ve written two superhero adventure novels so far starring Chloe, a young woman who discovers she has previously unsuspected superpowers. Readers are fine with that part. What they don’t like is my heroine’s taste in men.

She broke up with a perfectly nice boyfriend, a computer nerd, comics geek, and good partner in goofy adventures. She threw herself into a fling with a ruthless executive type who never tells her the same thing twice, tends to go behind her back and not inform her what he’s up to, and who also is great in bed.

I’m not writing romance as such, but my readers still get all upset over Eric. The beta readers who see the stories before they’re published actually write notes to Chloe saying things like “Don’t do it! Don’t believe his lies!”

I made this guy up. He’s not real. He’s not even a superhero. But he’s hot in that Mad Men or bad billionaire way: He has power, he likes power, and he uses it for his own ends. Maybe sometimes he’s on the same side as the heroine. Maybe sometimes he’s not. Men like this DO get women to fall for them. Maybe they don’t keep them. Maybe they don’t even want to keep them. Or maybe they do, but the men themselves always come first in their calculations, not the women they’re sleeping with.

I’m tickled that I have created a man who is this true to life, but I’m a little sorry readers don’t seem to appreciate the fantasy thrill of a fictional relationship with Mr. Wrong. No harm comes to the heroine in my stories. She does get upset over Eric, but she’s a superheroine. She figures it out. Maybe that’s the underlying issue. Do readers worry that my heroine—or they themselves?—won’t be strong enough to resist the charms of a Mr. Wrong?

Temporary Superheroine is on sale at Amazon. Special discounted price October 8 through October 17. https://amzn.to/1L25FOw

Crisis at Comicon  (Temporary Superheroine Book 2) is available at a discounted pre-order price at Amazon: https://amzn.to/1FCz0id

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EXCERPT FROM TEMPORARY SUPERHEROINE:

“Chloe.” Eric determinedly came close to me so our breaths began to mingle. He eyed me with warmth and put a large hand on my shoulder, leaning in as if to kiss my cheek in greeting. I shrugged off both. I hadn’t forgotten he had snubbed me this morning. A lifetime ago.

“Chloe,” he repeated insistently, and leaned down and kissed my lips lightly, before I could fend him off again.

At the touch of his lips, secret parts of me started to melt. I feared they weren’t secret from him. I steeled myself and stated my mission. “I came for my amulet, which you stole.”

“I knew you would.” Eric smiled his predatory smile.

Ignoring his effect on me wasn’t working. I melted even more.

“I even told Bodacious Barb to make sure to tell you I had it,” he said.

“Why?” I was mystified. Eric was always a step or two ahead of me. In addition to all his worldly advantages, he simply was an ace manipulator.

“To bring you back to me,” he said. “I wanted to apologize for my cold shoulder this morning.”

“When you dropped me like a used tissue.” Since he’d given me the opening to talk about his behavior, I didn’t see any reason to sugarcoat it.

He had the grace to wince. “Is that how I came off? Sorry. I recognized the amulet last night while we were—ah…” He paused, obviously seeking a polite way of saying we were having sex.

“While our clothes were off,” I said flatly. “Continue.”

His expression was charmingly rueful. “I wanted to. So I didn’t question you about the amulet then. You wore me out, girl, then disappeared too fast.” He gave me a frank look. “I always thought women liked to cuddle afterwards, but when I woke, you were gone.”

My face had turned hot as he reminded me of the details of our time in his bedroom. Which had been too wonderful and had scared the hell out of me. Could my vanishing act have bothered him? My experience with men told me he was giving me a line of bull. When they’re done, they want you gone. At least the guys like Eric who can have any woman, because they are physically attractive and have money and power. He radiated virility. He could regularly sample a variety of women. I didn’t flatter myself that he cared about me.

“So?” I asked, refusing to soften at his confession. I wanted to hold onto my anger at him. Then he wouldn’t be able to play me. Again.

“This morning, I didn’t know what to think, and I backed off.”

“Oh, cut the crap, Eric.” I glared at him.

BIO:

Award-winning author Irene Vartanoff has combined her love of romances and comic books by working for Marvel Comics and DC Comics as well as Harlequin, Bantam, Berkley, and My RomanceStory.com. Her first superhero adventure novel, Temporary Superheroine, was quickly followed by her first sweet contemporary romance novel, Captive of the Cattle Baron. Irene is also the author of several romance graphic romance novellas including Breaking All the Rules and The Egyptian’s Texas Spitfire. Under her comic book nom de plume, Poison Ivy, she contributes to the MyRomanceStory.com blog.

Thanks!
Irene Vartanoff
Writer & Editor
irene@irenevartanoff.com

Romance authors love to write about falling in love. The rush of newness, the promise of passion and happily ever after, and the exhilarating but sometimes frustrating “getting to know each other” phase are aspects most romance readers love to hear about. Today, I don’t want to talk about any of those. I want to talk about how people in love…stay in love.

It’s hard to keep the romance alive in our busy worlds. We have obligations to work, kids, friends, and our community. What we often forget is we also have a responsibility to the person we love. This is especially important when the world seems out to get us. No matter how good our life is, bad stuff happens. We can’t stop it all. We deal with it, right? It’s how we face our challenges that sometimes gets us in trouble with our partners, but those with a solid base built on love have the best chance of surviving. Yeah, basic. Sometimes that’s easier said than done.

Arawn and Minerva, the characters in Hunter Sacrificed, face those same struggles, only on a more divine and far-reaching level. Their love is challenged, and the Wild Hunt series is their story. It begins and ends with their epic tale of love, betrayal, forgiveness and hope. (And you get to step into their journey for free! Read on for the links.)

For the rest of us, our relationship hardships can be lessened if we take the time to keep love alive. It doesn’t need to be a huge undertaking every day. Little things matter. Here’s my list of the top three ways my husband and I remind each other that we’re in life together:

1. Taking a few minutes every day to talk about something outside of the three big ones: work, family and money. For the hubby and I, this can be anything from science (yes, we’re both geeks) to the newest action movie.
2. Silly, random texts. We might not be able to respond, but it’s nice to pick up our phones and see each other’s profile pic.
3. Holding each other. Hugs are good for the soul.

So what do you do to express your love? I’d love to hear about your special ways!

Hunter Sacrificed, Wild Hunt book 0.5 Blurb

His vow to save mankind turns him into the father of the damned.

Arawn, Lord of the Underworld, is faced with the hardest decision of his long life. Because of his neglect, humans are suffering…but his vow to make things right could cost him everything he holds dear.

Minerva, the Goddess of Love, holds his heart and soul, but the act he must now commit might very well destroy their love.

His sacrifice doesn’t go far enough to end the humans’ agony. It compounds it—and turns him into a pawn. He cannot renege on his deal with the Triad, but he can avenge those he’s wronged.

To do that, he’ll need every one of his Huntsmen to win the greatest game of all time—the Wild Hunt.

Warning: Goodness and light vs. sacrifice and darkness. Seriously, what could possibly go wrong?

Excerpt #1

Hands clenched at his sides to stop himself from pulling her into his embrace, he motioned toward her with a jerk of his chin. “Turn. I want to see all of you.”

The order he’d given to her all those years ago brought back the memory of their first time together. He embraced the recollection, allowing it to guide him into what might be their final night together.

She raised a brow.

He growled. “If you have not realized where you are, this is Hell. I rule here, and my commands are to be obeyed immediately. Now, turn.”

With her lower lip caught between her teeth, she dropped her gaze and complied with his demand, slowly spinning on her heel. The ends of her silver hair swayed. A tinkling sound accompanied the move, and the flickering lights from the candles illuminating the room reflected on the strands, making her appear as if she carried her own inner light. The sight entranced him. He allowed the spell she wove to mesmerize him for another moment before shifting his focused stare to her rounded bottom. The ends of her hair caressed her ass cheeks. Soft yet firm, she was made for loving.

Made for me.

She wasn’t. He knew that. It didn’t stop the wonder he experienced in her presence from seizing him.

He closed the distance between them but didn’t touch her. He curled his hands until his nails dug into his palm. Head bent, he buried his nose in the fall of her hair. A deep inhale satisfied his craving for her scent. She smelled of life and goodness.

Everything I am not.

Mouth at her ear, he whispered, “You tempt me, goddess.”

“How? I have not spoken.” She repeated the response she’d given him all those years ago.

Pleased she picked up on his prompting, he captured her earlobe between his teeth and nibbled on her tender flesh until her air escaped on a slow exhale, and her body relaxed against his.

He released her lobe, then pressed his lips to her neck. “You stand before me naked and aroused.”

“You too are naked and aroused, my dark lord. The fact that I am should please you.”

“It does not.”

She turned her head, and her glowing gray eyes filled his vision. “And why not?”

He ran his hand over her hair. His fingers itched with the desire to wrap her shimmering locks around his palm. He dropped his arm.

“You make me want things I shouldn’t.”

Excerpt #2

“Arawn, Lord of the Underworld, it is about time you came.”

The Triad’s voice surrounded Arawn. He cracked his eyelids, but only the endless expanse of white clouds greeted him. “You’ve been expecting me?”

Why he asked, he didn’t know. The answer seemed important, however. Doubt had hovered in his mind ever since Minerva had first appeared to him. Learning about her deal with Lucifer had compounded it. Arawn couldn’t help but feel…played.

“Not played. Led.” The Triad responded to his unspoken thought, proving it could easily read Arawn’s mind.

The deity’s intrusion didn’t anger him. Its words did. Arawn remembered the games among the other gods in the early days of the world. He’d hated it. The isolation of the Underworld had been part of the reason he’d accepted the role he’d been offered. The segregation from the heavens hadn’t offered him peace, however.

He’d entered his eternal hell.

And Minerva saved me from it.

Arawn ground his jaw. “Manipulated, you mean.”

“No. You cannot be controlled. Even the gods have free will.”

“But you can take all my choices away save one, can’t you?”

Silence answered him.

“Well?” He knew better than to argue with the Triad. The tortured look in Minerva’s eyes pushed him to demand the truth.

“You always have two choices, Arawn god of Hell.”

Of course I do. He worked his jaw back and forth. “The right one and the wrong one.”

“Exactly. Which have you chosen?”

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A little about Nancy…

A true romantic at heart, Nancy Corrigan is convinced there’s a knight in shining armor for every woman (or man), but you won’t find damsels in distress in her stories. She adores pairing alpha heroes with women strong enough to match them and bring them to their knees. She also enjoys flipping the traditional roles in romances because her motto is—love and people should never be forced to conform to anyone’s norm.

She holds a degree in chemistry and has worked in research but now focuses on ensuring quality. She considers it the perfect outlet for her as she’s the first to admit she has some OCD tendencies. It carries over into her writing life too. While engrossed in a novel, she has a habit of forgetting to eat and sleep. Fortunately, she’s married to her own knight in shining armor who understands her oddities and loves her anyway. They reside in Pennsylvania with their three children, dog, snake and guinea pigs. Her other interests include tattoos, animals, classic cars and all things spooky and sexy.