Yes, it’s Tuesday. And like I said before…er, sometime or other…it’s hard to remember what day of the week it is when you’re on lockdown. So, it’s my pleasure to remind you and to offer you some light entertainment while you’re slowly going out of your mind…
Okay, none of that is happening here. It’s been a bit of an adjustment, and we’re having to cook way too many meals. What is it with kids? They think every meal should be an event! Any other time, they’d be happy with PBJ or ramen. Ha! Okay, again, none of that crazy sh*t is goin’ on here. 🙂
(Do you sense that I’m ready for a spa day?)
Ah well, next best thing to a day of self-care is a FREE story, right? Something short to tide you over. You can tell the kids or your SO you won’t be long. Just a few pages more… And you’d be telling them the truth! In addition to the free story, I have an inspirational puzzle. Something of a morning pick-me-up. *wink-wink*
Enjoy both! And you’re welcome! ~DD
P.S. Tell me how you’re coping! No crazy sh*t going on there, right?
FREE Read — Lily’s Last Stand
A wife gives her husband a sexy surprise…and then he ups the ante… Get your copy here! *~*~*~*
My name is Stacy McKitrick. I write paranormal romances, normally with locales I have visited. I love Pittsburgh, so I set My Sunny Vampire there. I live in Dayton, so it only seemed natural to set Bite Me, I’m Yours here. I’ve been to Atlanta many times for Dragon Con (a sci-fi/fantasy convention held during Labor Day weekend every year), but it wasn’t until I actually visited the Atlanta Underground that I realized that’s where my vampire headquarters is located, and I show that in Blind Temptation. And while Biting the Curse is set between Cleveland and Detroit, two cities I have visited also, I ran into problems with my newest book: Finding the Perfect Mate.
I was all set to have my vampire couple go to Russia, do their job, then return. Problem was, that would have been a super short story. And I just couldn’t have that! But I’ve never been to Russia. Had no idea what it’s like there. Luckily, I have a friend who did know something about the country and told me enough where I could conduct my own research.
Like dashcams. Almost every car in Russia has one. I thought it was because they were required. Nope. It’s more like for insurance. Without a dashcam, some person ready to scam you can walk into your car and claim you hit them. And apparently, that happens a lot! When I was doing my research, I found that I could view a lot of these dashcam videos online. I thought, Great! Now I can see what the landscape looks like. And I was able to do that after I got over the horror of actually watching these videos.
Warning: if you’re the squeamish type, I suggest you do not view them. I swear, you’re looking at someone’s death during some of these car crashes. Very horrific!
So my book, which was supposed to just have a little bit of Russia in it, ended up being 90% in the country. Did I get it all right? Maybe not, but I concentrated on the Russian Vampires. Since they don’t exist, I pretty much could make up their world there. If you’re interested in how well I portrayed Russia, why don’t you read Finding the Perfect Mate? It’s currently on pre-order at a reduced price of $2.99. Release day is April 1 and the price will increase to $4.99 shortly after that.
So … Have you ever been to Russia? Do you like to travel? I love traveling and one day I do hope to visit Russia. Maybe on a cruise. I do love cruising!
Finding the Perfect Mate
Finding the Perfect Mate just got way more complicated.
When Perry pledges abstinence until he meets a Perfect Mate—a rare mortal perfect for a vampire—he doesn’t expect to be tested. Especially by another vampire. But Mandy smells like heaven. Has a sexy British accent. And is the smartest person he’s met. She’s just so … perfect. If he holds on to his fantasy, will he lose his chance at love?
Finding the perfect vampire was never on her radar.
Mandy hasn’t seen her father in 500 years but when he goes missing she drops everything and heads for the States, only to discover the Russian vampires kidnapped him. She insists on being involved in his rescue and suggests she and Perry—who’s sexy as sin and makes her laugh—infiltrate as lovers. As they pretend, she realizes he’s just so … perfect. But she’s got a secret that will mean her death. Can she trust him not to turn her over to the authorities or does she keep mum and let him go?
If you sign up for my newsletter (https://eepurl.com/bCN0Oz), I’ll send you a free copy of “Savannah’s Destiny,” a short story I wrote that combines my Ghostly Encounters and Bitten by Love series. I’m doing it all manually (meaning I send out the link once I get the notification I have a new subscriber), so if you don’t hear from me after signing up, you can contact me directly at stacy @ stacymckitrick . com (without the spaces, of course). You can unsubscribe at any time—no hard feelings.
Ready to go off the grid? I’m not sure why I’ve been so fascinated with it, but after a fan asked for a sequel to Follow Me, I couldn’t resist roughing it once again.
At the moment, it also happens to be a hot topic. With schools, restaurants, and bars closing from the pandemic, we are being forced to live a simpler life — at least for a while. It makes us appreciate what we usually take for granted, and some of us may end up realizing the simpler life can be better.
While Follow Me hung out in the West Virginia mountains and rivers, Find Me’s setting is a Louisiana swamp. Hot, sticky, and oh so sexy… Sheltering-in can be a thrill instead of a prison sentence if you’re locked away with the hero of your dreams. Away from outside distractions and conveniences, you can immerse yourself completely in the other person’s body, heart, and soul.
Can a civil rights attorney and a southern rocker find love at a Confederate statue rally?
Weary of climbing the corporate ladder to care for her aging hippie parents, Dee Dobson marches in a rally. When violence erupts, Rodney Walker, lead singer of Breeze, comes to her rescue. Their dramatic picture hits the papers, but an interracial relationship is out of the question for both their careers.
Between a long-distance concert tour, her endless overtime, and his racist brother, Jack, they struggle to build a future from their powerful connection. When a senator pursues Dee and helps her run for political office, things get even more complicated.
But their biggest obstacle is Jack. As a southern gentleman, Rodney values family above all else. Due to a long-buried secret, he always gives his brother the benefit of the doubt, a decision that could cost him and Dee everything.
He grabbed an enormous green towel and washcloth from the metal rack and set them on the vanity. “Here you go. Soap and shampoo are inside the stall. Do you need anything else?”
Their gazes caught and held…too long.
When he grabbed the belt buckle of his jeans, her gaze dropped to his hand and didn’t let go.
“I need a shower, too,” he said hoarsely. “And, well, there’s no flag in here.”
“I expected you to have one as a shower curtain,” she joked.
But she caught his drift. Running water would mask any sounds they made in case the evil brother woke up. Without taking her eyes off Rodney’s waist, she stooped to remove her sneakers. She straightened and padded toward him in slow motion. The thick rug massaged her feet, which only fed the desire rising inside her like a high tide.
Her hands got a mind of their own as they fastened around the big, round buckle and tugged it open. He jerked his zipper down and pulled off his tank top. Her nipples tightened so hard they ached. Ever since he’d rescued her at the rally, she’d wanted him. No, before that. She’d wanted him the first time she’d heard him sing.
She ran her palms over the warm, solid planes of his chest, but he grabbed one of her hands and pulled it down. Lord, the man had a thick package. The bulge she’d always seen in his pants didn’t disappoint.
His eager erection was the best thing she’d ever felt, too. When she rubbed the length of him, a moan escaped him and he slumped against the vanity. Before she could do it a second time, he growled and peeled off her clothes.
“Don’t move,” he said as he reclined against the vanity, watching her.
His gaze felt as heavy as a caress. In response, goosebumps popped up all over her flesh. Without another word, he walked her toward the shower and turned on the water. In moments, the glass-doored stall filled with steam.
Hot water pulsed over their bodies. Rodney’s hair looked even sexier wet. Long sheets of it framed his muscled flesh, which turned rosy in the hot water. His jutting organ reddened, too.
He sat on one of the built-in seats and pulled her back-first onto his lap as he had in the boat. His cock, slick and hard, rubbed against her buttocks. When would she feel it inside her? To fill her aching need? If he decided to act like a southern gentleman now, she’d scream.
With his arms around her, he leaned toward the nearby soap dispenser, built into the shower wall, and squirted a dollop of pearly fluid into his palm. It reminded her of cum, which made her cleft burn even more. With exquisite gentleness, he rubbed it over her arms, releasing its herbal scent. Going back for more and more to cleanse her legs, back, and belly.
When he lavished extra care on the scar from her stab wound, it made her recall the rally. She’d been terrified of dying until he’d carried her to safety. I must be dreaming! Never let this shower end, even if my skin turns into a wrinkled prune.
When would he wash the parts she needed most? As if reading her mind, he palmed her breasts. Through the soapy bubbles, the warm friction of his hands against her swollen nipples sent her into the stratosphere.
Then he shut off the faucet, dropped to her feet, and nudged open her thighs.
Oh, no he isn’t…
Coming Soon
Look Into My Eyes – in case you missed the Crossroads boxed set
Good morning! I have a cup of coffee, and the morning’s quiet—so far. So, here I am talking to you! I had to check my calendar to know what day of the week it is! With everyone home, every day, it’s hard to keep track here in the loony bin!
While mom and dad are coping, the littlest kids are having an absolute blast! The temperature rose to the low 70’s a couple of days ago, and they secretly put their swimsuits on underneath their clothes, went outside, stripped, and turned on the hose to have a big water fight. We knew when we heard the screeching. Outside was warm, but the water coming out of the hose was not. They had a blast then came running inside, dripping everywhere, and said, “Guess what we did?!” (Like we didn’t know? 🙂 )
The older ones are going stir crazy and spending way too much time making TikTok videos and FaceTiming friends. The 15-year-old girl keeps singing, “It’s the end of the world as we know it…” Don’t remember that one? Play it while you play here!
The creatures I feel sorriest for inside this house are our five cats. They’re solitary creatures by nature, and now, they never get a break! The little ones want to play with them and carry them around. The little Jack Russells also run and hide when they’re outside because they’re always in a wagon being dragged around the yard. Ah well. LOL
Do you know who’s happiest though? Me. All this enforced isolation works for me with my writing, and I get to spend extra time with the fam. So, there are silver linings, folks. Look for them!
Enjoy the puzzle! Leave a comment below telling me about your “silver lining”, and you’ll be entered to win a $5 Amazon gift card!
You’d think, being a minister, I’d wake on Sunday morning wondering what miracle lay in store for me that day. Unfortunately, more often than not I’d have the Saturday night why-did-I say-I’d-preach-on-Sunday blues. My colleagues and I lead our parishioners in choruses like “Victory is Mine” or classic hymns like “A Mighty Fortress Is Our God”, but many of us leave the ministry suffering from compassion fatigue or badly burned by well-intentioned dragons. I could have been one of those casualties but for a faith-reviving miracle.
From 2013-2015, I served as interim pastor to the United Presbyterian Church in Paterson, NJ, where I met an enthusiastic member named Diane Anderson. She wanted to hold an evangelistic service outdoors so members of the community could hear the message. For the benediction, we’d write prayers on index cards, tie them to helium balloons then release them. The Sunday of the service was warm and wonderful. We worshipped in the church parking lot and, at the end of the service, released our balloons as planned. They dotted a blue and cloudless sky.
The following Tuesday on our answering machine was a message from a woman who lived in Massachusetts just outside of Boston. She shared how one of our balloon blessings reached her backyard and was an answer to a prayer.
I called her back and had a wonderful conversation. It seems her father had recently died after a long bout with cancer. She’d gone that Sunday to his graveside and just talked to him, letting him know how much she missed him and didn’t know how she was going to go on without him. On Monday, as she was washing her dishes she glanced out her kitchen window and saw something stuck to a shed in her backyard. She went to retrieve it. It was a balloon with the following message attached: “Jesus, I am asking and believing in your name to continue to bless all those free of cancer and to those suffering that you will comfort them during this time.” She told me she wasn’t a religious person, but she felt sure our balloon was a sign from her dad that all was well with him and all would be well with her. Because our address was on the card she was able to track us down and thank us. She mailed the card back so I could share her thank you with the congregation the following Sunday.
I told Diane first. She had always wanted to do a service like this and thanked me for encouraging her to do it, despite the grumbling from the we’ve-never-done-it-that-way-before naysayers of the congregation. Diane now leads a ministry called Faithworks that feeds 500 people a month.
That balloon traveled 220 miles from our parking lot in Paterson to this woman’s Boston neighborhood. Ever since that call, I greet each morning with this prayer: “Thank you, God, for another day to be used by you for good.”
Coincidence or miracle? I believe the latter. What do you say?
One Breath Away
Sentenced to hang for a crime she didn’t commit, former slave Mary Hamilton was exonerated at literally the last gasp. She returns to Safe Haven, broken and resigned to live alone. She’s never been courted, cuddled or spooned, and now no man could want her, not when sexual satisfaction comes only with the thought of asphyxiation. But then the handsome stranger who saved her shows up, stealing her breath from across the room and promising so much more.
Wealthy, freeborn-Black, Eban Thurman followed Mary to Safe Haven, believing the mysteriously exotic woman was foretold by the stars. He must marry her to reclaim his family farm. But first he must help her heal, and to do that means revealing his own predilection for edgier sex. Hope ignites along with lust until the past threatens to keep them one breath away from love…
Excerpt from One Breath Away
She circled around him as if he were an open bear trap. “What if touching you in those ways doesn’t give me pleasure?”
Her words sliced across his throat. He pressed a fist against his heart then sucked air through his mouth to recapture his breath. “Then I’m wrong…but I honestly don’t believe I am.”
She frowned. “I told you I’ve no experience when it comes to relations between men and women.”
“You’re a fast learner, remember?”
She looked down. Interest burned in the gaze that traveled to his crotch. His cock twitched under her scrutiny. She returned her attention to his face, stared into his eyes, searched a minute.
Eban held his breath.
Come on stars. Be right.
She tilted her head. “You’ll show me what you want? Guide me? Instruct me?”
“If you’re willing.”
She pursed her lips thoughtfully. “Fine. Show me.”
He unbuttoned his fly, let his pants slip slowly down his legs, and blew out a breath as her gaze followed his movements. He discarded his underwear, swallowed hard as he exposed his member to her. Her eyes widened.
“Your first impression?”
Still clutching her shoe, she approached him, reached for his cock, let her hand hover indecisively.
“Touch it anyway you like.”
She knelt on the mattress, laid her shoe aside and took his genitalia in her hands. He closed his eyes, melted in the immediate warmth of her fingers cupping his balls. A drop of semen pearled from the head’s slit.
“What is this?”
He opened his eyes, observed then relaxed at the curiosity in her gaze.
“Sperm.”
She thumbed the substance onto her fingers, examined it, sniffed it.
“Planted in your womb it becomes a baby.”
She spread the precious seed along his cock slit. He stifled a moan as a delicious thrill tripped up his shaft. She stopped. He looked down into eyes filled with concern.
“Have I done something wrong?”
He shuddered, shook his head. “No. You’ve done something very right. Please, continue.”
Since I’m here on the first day of Spring, I thought I should write about it. But not your usual stuff. You know cute fuzzy bunnies named fluff butt. Or how many bags of jelly beans that are needed to make infused vodka. Or the recipe for whip cream vodka cupcakes.
I wanted something different…something romantic. After all, spring is the season of romance and this is a romance blog. So, I went to the internet (what did we do before the internet? My 8-year-old wants to know something the 1st thing he does is say – google it – sorry, I got distracted) and looked up “Spring” things. Most involved cute bunnies and how to dye eggs (kool-aide works the best!)….And if you do romantic spring things make sure small kids aren’t in the room with you. Those were all a bit more steamy than I wanted to discuss on a guest blog 😉
Then I stumbled on an article about the Roman’s celebration of the spring equinox. They used the day to celebrate Cybele (Great Mother) and mourn Attis (her lover). It has everything needed for a great romance. A kick-butt heroine – a goddess named Cybele. Now Cybele wasn’t your average run of the mill goddess, oh no, she was definitely a step above. Sure, she rode in a chariot but no horses for her, nope, she had three lions pulling it. Let’s be real for a minute, now while lions might not be able to pull you as fast, it’s definitely would be way cooler!
When she wasn’t being pulled around in her lion drawn chariot, she was hanging out with her lover Attis. Did you pick up on the fact the day was spent celebrating AND mourning?
What’s a romance story without a little anguish between the hero and heroine??? You know where the hero wonders if the heroine really loves him… or is she having sex with the God three stars over?
Well, it turns out that there was more than a little anguish between Cybele and Attis. It seems that Cybele provoked such an amount of jealously in Attis that he castrated himself – and died!
And that is the story of Cybele and Attis. Sorry, no happy ever after.
My latest release doesn’t have lions in it, nor does the hero die (or castrate himself). It doesn’t have fluffy bunnies or cupcakes. But it does have a kick-butt heroine (even though she isn’t pulled around by lions) and hero. And a happy ever after.
Taking a Risk
If Leigh Ronaldson is one thing, it’s predictable. What’s wrong with having a routine? Apparently, it makes her boring or so her ex-boyfriend claimed as he dumped her. And her best friend agrees.
She decides to prove them wrong and books an extreme adventure in Ecuador. The hiking, kayaking, and camping she signed up for. She didn’t plan on the hot guide who by just looking at her made her squirm with desire and definitely not the drug cartel who wants them dead.
Nick Greco golden rule is never to touch a client. NEVER. But rules can’t be broken.
Once the local drug cartel starts hunting them, he knows it will take all his skill to get out of the Amazon jungle alive. And if your life is hanging in the balance even golden rules can be broken…
Thanks for having me! And if you would like to come and hang out with me…we will talk doughnuts, vodka (I’ll share how many jelly beans it takes to infuse the vodka), and planners…
Last summer, the owner of the first publishing house I joined, Liquid Silver Publishing, died. I hated hearing the news because she was a wonderful person to work with. With Liquid Silver, I’d sold, gosh, maybe twelve books and several novellas/short stories in anthologies. It was a good company to work for because they were fair, honest, and they paid on time. With her death came the problem of what to do with the books they still had on the docket. I recently received rights back for all of them. I also received rights back for the one non-erotic book I’ve written, Burning Bridges, written as Anne Krist. What to do, what to do…
I’ve only recently explored the adventure of self-publishing. It’s exciting and scary all at once. Exciting, because I am more in control of my own fate—responsible for quality and timeliness and marketing. Scary, because I am more in control of my own fate—responsible for quality and timeliness and marketing. It seems everything is a double-edged sword. What if I take charge of my own destiny (fun) and screw everything up (scary)?
With Burning Bridges, the book of my heart, I was happy to take the risk because I love the book so much. Reading through to edit and make necessary changes was actually a pleasure. Hubby designed a new cover that I (surprisingly, because I loved the first cover) like better than the first. Uploading the book went off without a hitch. So far, so good.
But when it came to marketing, I was kind of stuck. Do I market the book as new or revised? Should I even mention that it was out before? Anyone looking at the website—or even Amazon, since they can’t/won’t tell their marketplace vendors to remove images and offerings of older versions—will recognize the difference in cover art. And the book already has reviews. Do I use the old reviews in marketing the updated book? None of these questions had I considered before jumping into republishing. (To answer, I decided to use the old reviews in marketing, I noted that the book is republished on the copyright page of the book but don’t make a big deal of it in ads, and I use only the new graphic in messages and marketing.)
Since Burning Bridges, I’ve republished two other books, both written as Dee, and both paranormal: PassionateDestiny and Your Desire. They also have new covers (I think hubby outdid himself!) and have been updated slightly with re-reading/editing. I have about seven or eight more to go if I am to match the books I had on Liquid Silver’s site. It’s a daunting task! As I am repubbing, I’m putting books on Kindle Unlimited. If you are member of KU, I hope you will check them out.
So, is republishing books a PITA or fun? It’s a mix. If I had gone to one of my other publishers—assuming one of them would have accepted the books—it would have been so much easier. They would have taken care of cover art and editing, and I would have had help in marketing. But so far, I kind of like the idea of taking the reins of control for my work. I have found formatting for paperback is a bit of a pain but nothing that can’t be dealt with. The fun comes from reading my own work again. I don’t usually read a book of mine once it’s published. After reading Burning Bridges, Passionate Destiny and Your Desire, I kinda sit and say, “Did I really write that? It’s pretty darn good.” That’s the most fun part! I hope folks will take notice of my marketing and agree!
Burning Bridges: mybook.to/BurningBridges
Letters delivered decades late send shock waves through Sara Richards’s world. Nothing is the same, especially her memories of Paul, a man to whom she’d given her heart years before. Now, sharing her secrets and mending her mistakes of the past means putting her life back together while crossing burning bridges. It will be the hardest thing Sara’s ever done.
Passionate Destiny: https://tinyurl.com/sxy5sfh
When Margaret Amis-Hollings inherits an old house in Virginia, she never suspects she’d be sharing it with a very loving ghost. Or that her interest would be divided between her spirit lover and the very live man who’s renovating the place. Suddenly her life is intertwined with a soldier from a previous century and with his descendant, Aaron, who has a secret concerning her home. Is it coincidence or the power of a past love that makes Aaron want to share her life, as well as her destiny?
Your Desire: https://tinyurl.com/whkqtjf
Your Desire. A mysterious shop appears in town for one reason: to bring the spice of passion and the thrill of love to one special person. Magic is in more than the item purchased—it’s in the heart of the buyer, often hidden, usually surprising. And after enchantment takes hold? The store fades from sight and memory, only to reappear somewhere else. Maybe in your town….
About Dee S. Knight
A few years ago, Dee S. Knight began writing, making getting up in the morning fun. During the day, her characters killed people, fell in love, became drunk with power, or sober with responsibility. And they had sex, lots of sex.
After a while, Dee split her personality into thirds. She writes as Anne Krist for sweeter romances, and Jenna Stewart for ménage and shifter stories. All three of her personas are found on the Nomad Authors website (www.nomadauthors.com). Fortunately, Dee’s high school sweetheart is the love of her life and husband to all three ladies! Once a month, look for Dee’s Charity Sunday blog posts, where your comment can support a selected charity.
Burning Bridges: 
Passionate Destiny: 
Your Desire: 
