UPDATE: The winner is Debra Guyette!
*~*~*

A corn maze on one of the spookiest nights of the year sounds like fun, right?

But once you get inside those tall stalks there’s no breeze. The air gets thick and heavy, despite the fall weather. And be sure to watch your footing. Those big fat rain drops might turn that path your on into a slick mud slide. But that’s all okay, too, right? One hour to get out of this maze, and the last one out buys the beer for the rest of the night. All you have to do is NOT be the last one out.

But what if you don’t come out at all?

Hidden deep within this corn maze is a magical portal, and on the other side…? A realm full of creatures of myth and legend and campfire stories. If you’re lucky, you’ll make it through the forest and into the city.

Let me be the first to welcome you to Clayridge, with this informative, albeit, unnerving guide.

A mortal’s guide to surviving in Clayridge:

Clayridge: Generally a safe place, protected by a large stone wall, enchantments, and the Guard. Wander outside of this city and you could find yourself in peril quite quickly.

Witches: Generally helpful, good for purchasing spells and enchantments to keep you safe. They can also read your fortune via cards, runes, tea leaves or a palm reading, though they tend to think that sort of thing is for the tourists.

Werewolves: Don’t be in the forest after nightfall or these beasts will surly find you. They walk on two legs, transform at will (so long as the moon is in the sky), and enjoy hunting.

Vampires: Beware of these seductive creatures, they can lure you in with a Blood Lust spell and spend days, months, or even years keeping you as their pet and pleasure snack. Dangerous creatures. Be wary.

Sirens: Okay, so you may want to keep a safe distance from the fountain in the center of town. Those half-fish, half-woman creatures that live inside it will lull you in with their song. They’ve been known to break up marriages, ruin relationships, and cause all kinds of trouble. If you value your relationships heed the warning signs and avoid these hormone driven creatures. You’ll likely just become addicted.

Dwarfs: Small in stature, great skill at building weapons, toys, and pretty much anything. They make great drinking buddies too.

Harpies: If you see one of these half-bird, half-woman creatures, well, you’re likely already dead.

Demons: Their appearance depends on their sub-species. Winged, horned, black mist. Does it look dark, dangerous and deadly? Then it probably is. Also, they generally work for vamps, and are often up to no good.

Gargoyles: These guys are cool AF. Stone through the day, flesh and blood after dusk. Generally work as nighttime labourers around the town, particularly at the theater, but don’t be fooled, they possess wicked warrior skills.

Fairies: Cute. Helpful. Playful. Strong work ethic.

Pixies: About as fun as a nest full of hornets. You don’t want these pests in your home. They’re difficult to get rid of without the aid of Pixie Repellant. You can pick up a bottle at The Broomstick.

The Divide: A nasty town full of undesirable creatures. Vamps, demons and werewolves are commonly found here. For a steep price you can purchase your very own mortal, for whatever wicked purposes you might devise.

The Guard: Hellhounds make up the guard, serving as peacekeepers and law enforcers. They’ll protect the people of Clayridge with any means necessary. Huge hounds with matted black fur, ghostly tails and glowing eyes, they look scary AF, but that’s only because they are. Dangerous? Only if you’ve don’t something wrong.

Love Spells, Full Moons, and Silver Bullets

Love Spells, Full Moons, and Silver Bullets is available for pre-order. I hope you enjoy the following excerpt. I’ve also included a link to my newsletter. Subscribe now and you’ll be gifted a FREE short story, Arrested Valentine, which has an exclusive sneak peek for Love Spells, Full Moons, and Silver Bullets, that’s currently only available at the end of Arrested Valentine.

What the story is about…

What do you do when your ex’s werewolf boss wants to feast on the mortal you’ve sworn to protect?

Quinn was unaware of the love potion her meddling cat dumped into her tea, so when Ian Hannigan ends up injured on her property, she thinks she’s dealing with another mortal, not the man who can help mend her heart. Her life becomes a balancing act as she attempts to keep him safe, while hiding secrets better left buried with the dead.

In a realm filled with things that go bump in the night, Ian didn’t expect to find security and happiness in the arms of a green skinned witch, yet for the first time since his parents tragic car crash, he’s found some measure of peace. The rumors he hears in Clayridge aren’t pleasant, but Ian knows there’s more to Quinn than what people would have him believe. If he’s placed his trust in the wrong hands he’ll be paying with more than just his heart. He’ll pay with his life.

Contest: comment on this post for your chance to win a super cute tea cup bookmark!

Read an excerpt…

“You didn’t have to send your….” Alec paused, a grin in place as he seem to search for the right word, “…pet away. Is that what the mortal is, Quinn? A pet?” Before Quinn could jump to Ian’s defense, Alec kept going, every word stoking a fire in her. “You’ve never kept a mortal before. That’s not like you. Getting a little bored and lonely way out here by yourself?” He used his hands to brace himself on one of her Adirondack chairs, leaned closer, and whispered suggestively, “I could have helped you with that.”

Quinn blinked, then narrowed her eyes. He was baiting her. “Cut the bullshit. What do you want Alec?”

His shoulders slumped and he released an exaggerated sigh. “You Quinn. I’m here for you.”

“Aww,” she said with as much mockery as she could muster. “Let me just kick Ian out and you can come on in.”

“Your sarcasm is noted. Give me a chance Quinn. We could be great.”

“Could have been great. Past tense, Alec.” Turning to her fire, she dismissed his offer. “You’re the one who walked away.”

He was stealthy when he moved. His hands came to rest on her shoulders as his lips caressed her ear. “I still remember the way you feel, the look on your face when you come.”

The creaking of her front door told her that Alec’s overfamiliarity hadn’t gone unnoticed by their audience. Quinn spun away from him. “Well, you should forget it. What happened between us is over and there’s no going back.”

He was silent for a long moment. Behind him the door to the cabin closed again. Inside the curtain fluttered. She hoped they couldn’t hear the conversation. Maybe Lucifer had directed Ian to a different activity to keep him occupied.

Finally, Alec met her gaze. “I never stopped loving you.”

Seventy-five years ago a confession like that would have made her weak in the knees. Even in the height of their passion he’d never told her he loved her. She’d been the only one to utter those words, and then he’d crushed her silly infatuation. Grandma had warned her. The pack always came first.

With her grandmother’s voice in her ear, she straightened her spine and took a deep breath. “What do you want, Alec?”

She saw his jaw clench, in that same way it had whenever he had to do something he didn’t want to. But like a good little beta he followed orders. “Draven wants the mortal.”

Hands on her hips, she stood immobile. “No.”

“He’s willing to trade.”

Quinn huffed. “Oh, this ought to be good.”

“You give up your pet and I promise you’ll never be alone again.”

“Because you’ll stay with me?” She laughed. “Is that it? That’s Draven’s big trade? You for the mortal?”

That jaw, the one she’d once kissed and fawned over, clenched even harder. “Come on, Quinn! Think this through. You get what? One year with your mortal. Then he’s going back through that portal. Okay, maybe he stays. Best case scenario you get what? Sixty years before he’s worm food.”

Quinn swallowed. She didn’t want to think about that. Of course she’d out live him, but what about all the time they’d have together. They could both enjoy that.

“How long afterwards would you renege on your bargain? How long before Draven calls you back to the fold?” She crossed her arms over her chest, and stepped closer to the fire. “I’d rather die alone in this cabin than spend eternity with you.”

His jaw tightened so much that Quinn worried he’d break his teeth. Baring those pearly whites, he snarled, “Careful, Quinn, or you’ll end up a bitter old hag just like your grandma.”

“Get off my property!” She waved her hands, shooing him off the platform. “Get lost or the next time you transform you might just find yourself turning into a toad. A great big fat one with warts.”

Alec snickered, and stopped his backward momentum. “You always were a spitfire, Quinn.”

She was unprepared for his next move. With wolf-like reflexes he grabbed her arms and pulled her to him. Her chest hit his with such force her breath flew from her. His lips crashed against hers. In an instant she pushed him, shoving him with all her strength.

If not for his animal agility, he would have fallen on his ass, but instead he landed stealthy on his feet. “Think it over, Quinn. We were amazing once. We could be again.”

“I’m not turning him over to be slaughtered like some lamb.”

All traces of humor and anger fled his features. With severe sobriety, Alec’s gaze drilled into hers. “Seriously, Quinn, watch out. Draven is relentless in this. He will get your mortal. I don’t want to see you get hurt in the process.”

His concern was worrying, and as Quinn watched his retreating back she had to wonder just how far Draven would go in his attempts to get Ian. Her land was protected, and when he was with her she’d keep him safe. The town was secure enough, but still Alec’s visit was alarming.

Quinn doused the fire with a few shovelfuls of snow, before marching to her cabin.

Once inside she ripped off her boots and tossed her cloak on a peg. She stalked across the floor, tossed the rug aside and using a chant, unlocked the safe hidden in a compartment beneath the floorboards. She lifted out an old six shot, double barrel revolver, two pistols with double-stack magazines, and a sack filled with gold coins, setting it all on the floor before closing and securing the safe. Next she went to the cabinet near the door that housed her rifles. Unlocking it she pulled out a long barreled rifle. She set each one down on the counter top next to the mug of coffee that Ian had been sipping from when she’d walked in the door.

“You know how to shoot?”

Ian frowned. “You’re scaring me, Quinn.”

Lucifer leapt onto the counter. “Me too. What’s going on? I didn’t think that kiss was shotgun worthy.”

Straightening, Ian glared. “He kissed you?”

Quinn checked the chamber of the revolver, stalling as she thought through her answer. “He’s my ex, and he’s not the one I’m worried about. The kiss was not welcomed.” Her gaze was hard when she repeated. “Do you know how to shoot?”

“No.” He looked down at the guns. “Who are you worried about?”

She snorted. “Draven.”

Ian’s face paled. “The one who slashed me?”

Nodding, Quinn looked away. “He’s going to come after you, and we need to be ready.” She glanced at Luce. “Can you apologize to any customers that might come by today? Ian and I need to make a shopping trip.”

“We went to town last week,” Ian objected, with visible confusion.

“We’re not going to town.” She pocketed the sack of gold. “We’re going to see a dwarf about some silver bullets.”

Pre-order Love Spells, Full Moons, and Silver Bullets by clicking here

Sign up for my newsletter and receive a FREE short story. Get Arrested Valentine now.

About the Author

Romance author Cameron Allie grew up in a small town north of Toronto. As a child she loved stories, and after reading her first romance novel at age fifteen, her dreams of writing became singularly focused on the love story. She is currently living in Ontario with her husband, their young daughters and with their cat, who is constantly trying to interrupt the writing process.

Connect with Cameron:
Follow Cameron on Facebook
Cameron’s Covey (FB Reader Group)
Instagram
Twitter
Goodreads
Amazon
BookBub

Sundays are my most unfavorite day—in the morning, anyway. I have to rise, get my usual chores done (feed cats, make a pot of coffee, post my blog), then I have to spend some time updating my weekly work plan because, invariably, I have leftover items from last week to squeeze into this week’s plan.

When I have them all squeezed together, I take another look and decide what has to go! Do I really have to write that short story? scratch What stories HAVE to be HOW far along this week? Okay, I can give myself a little breathing room here, squish a little harder there. It’s always a big juggle. I have two pending deadlines this coming week, and I’ll be writing them down to the wire to finish. But what’s new?

Some writers, like me, need adrenaline to produce. Or at least that’s what I tell myself. The fear of failure, the fear of missing an Amazon upload deadline—those things motivate me big time.

Is there anything in your life that lights a fire under your ass like my Amazon deadlines?

Open Contests

1. Hello, Autumn! (Puzzle-Contest) — This ends soon! Win a FREE book!
2. Flashback: A Boys Behaving Badly Anthology (Contest–3 Winners!) — This ends soon! Win an anthology!
3. Grace Adams: Elemental Dragons (Contest) — Win a set of dragon magnets!
4. Your weekend book boyfriend… (Contest + Excerpt) — Win an Amazon gift card!
5. Ava Cuvay: How Do I Love Anthologies? Let me Count the Ways (Contest–5 Winners!) — Win an anthology!
6. Day trip, anyone? (Puzzle-Contest) — Win an Amazon gift card!

UPDATE: The winner is…Mary McCoy!
*~*~*

Did you watch the movie Timeline? Remember it? It starred Gerard Butler, Paul Walker, and a host of other notable actors. I loved it. I would build fantasies in my head around the adventures I could have if it were possible to move back and forth through time. What wonders would I see? Today’s puzzle will start you on your journey. Imagine if you could spend one day in your fantasy destination. Enjoy!

Puzzle Contest

For a chance to win a $5 Amazon gift card, solve the puzzle then tell me if this is somewhere you would take your fantasy time-travel day trip! If not, where and when would you go?

UPDATE: The winners are…Colleen C, Pamela Reveal, Debbie Caswell, Bn100, and Cheryl!
*~*~*

I won’t actually do any counting here, because that’s too much like math and, well… ew. But over the past few years, I’ve come to love the concept of anthologies.

Firstly, I get a try out new-to-me authors. Yes, this can also be accomplished by buying random books from random authors, but this tactic is a tad inefficient. And if I’ve spent hard-earned money on a whole book that turns out to be poorly written, poorly edited, or just plain unsatisfying, it’s like biting into a chocolate chip cookie only to realize it’s oatmeal raisin.

But a whole selection of authors and voices in one purchase? That’s a buffet! A smorgasbord! A feast, and I’m sure to find at least one (usually several) author whose voice I now love and can’t wait to read more of!

Secondly, short stories rock. I still love thick books with massive world-building that transports me across the universe or deep into a secret world within the world I already know and takes my mind and heart on an operatic-level journey toward an epic conclusion. A full 7-course meal with all the pomp and circumstance in presentation, complete with three different forks, two spoons, and weird clamp-type utensils for the escargot.

But there’s something to be said for peeling back everything but the most essential, impactful details and getting right to the heart of the story. Skipping all the minutia and going straight for dessert. Getting my money shot and my Happily-Ever-After and my hand-to-my-heart-deep-sigh-of-satisfaction… while waiting to pick a kiddo up from whatever practice they have today.

Lastly, there’s the price. I could achieve all of the above without buying an anthology… and spend a fortune doing it. Ooooor, I can dip my toe in the waters of an anthology for a lot less financial outlay. The greater the price of a book (or ebook), the greater my expectations. And therefore, the greater my disappointment if it’s not awesome.

Buuuuut, a quality book from a sure source that only costs 99-cents? OMG take my money and keep the change!!

And funny that I should be extolling the benefits of anthologies… because Delilah’s latest Boys Behaving Badly Anthology is going live October 12^th. The Cowboys edition has everything you’d want in an anthology: great authors, rocking short stories, a can’t-pass-up-price, smokin’ hot cowboy heroes that will set your naughty bits aflame, and heroines you’ll feel in your heart because you’ve been them at some point in your life. I’m thrilled to be part of this year’s anthology, and (squee!!) have read most of the other stories… trust me, they are ah-mazing!!

GIVEAWAY

Please comment with something anthology-related (your favorite, a fun experience, why you like them, etc.), and I’ll randomly pick five winners to receive an Amazon pre-order of the upcoming Cowboys anthology.

An excerpt from “Solar Flare” in Cowboys by Ava Cuvay

Planet Crysceous, Iona Quadrant

“Dad, the Coronal Mass Ejection will reach us tomorrow. Have you hired the replacements to herd—” Solarne Vacca jerked to a halt halfway into her father’s office, her attention snagged by the three strangers standing there. Specifically, the tall drink of aqua at the front, one hip cocked and his arms crossed at his chest, far enough from the blaster strapped to his thigh to appear non-threatening.

One glance at his sharpshooter’s face was enough to know his relaxed manner was an act.

Her heart hammered in her throat. She’d seen this man on the “Wanted” holo-vids posted around this system, sporting a list of violent offenses. He was even more striking in person, lounging with all the self-assurance of a king. Nearly two meters tall, with a head of bedroom-mussed hair as dark as a starless night, eyes the color of a cloudy day, and a body built for sin. She wouldn’t be a woman if the view didn’t steal her breath and shoot heat straight to her core with laser-point accuracy. But she was also CEO in charge of her family’s sprawling crehdisth worm ranch. This was her kingdom. And this man’s visit was a threat.

He was not here for a casual social call. He was a hired gun.

UPDATE: The winner is…Jolene Durante!
*~*~*

For a chance to win a $5 Amazon gift card, let me know who this weekend’s book boyfriend will be! 

If you haven’t already chosen your boyfriend, here’s a suggestion. He’s the ultimate bad boy… 🙂

If you’re looking for something to read this weekend, I have a suggestion. Pick up a Night Fall story! There are 13 books in the series! Each story is unique. Each hero and heroine is unique. I worked hard to give each character their own story with their own issues and adventures.

If you’d like a taste of one of the stories, here’s Bad to the Bone, which features Viper, who more than lives up to the title of the book!

Get your copy today!

Excerpt from Bad to the Bone

One week ago…

Slim hips swished beneath a short, flirty skirt, drawing his gaze like iron filings to a magnet. The splash of large pink flowers on white stood out like a beacon in the darkness. Beneath the hem stretched a pair of nude legs, toned, and nicely curved at the ankles. Perfectly made to lightly clasp a man’s waist as he slid into moist heat…

He suppressed a low, rumbling growl from the beast rising inside. Something he rarely bothered to do in the squalid dens he roamed most nights. The creature lurking deep within was a sexual animal, a lustful, ravenous host who found partners only too willing to let him feast. But this woman was different. Her soul was pure. Her mind unawakened to the darkness.

He followed her as she left her apartment, sticking to the shadows, ducking into stairwells when she looked behind her as though checking whether someone followed. A frown marred her smooth brow, and her lips tightened. The clip of her heels on the pavement quickened.

Shoulder-length, flyaway brown hair bobbed across the tops of slender shoulders. The creamy skin of her exposed arms and legs swung in a rhythm that his heart picked up and matched, beat for stride.

Feeling more than ever like the true predator he was, he tamped down the shame that burned like battery acid in his stomach and continued stalking the woman who walked more briskly now along the darkened sidewalk.

When she turned onto a crowded walkway, her shoulders sank and her footsteps slowed as she relaxed.

Now, as she mingled with others strolling along the promenade, she believed herself safe. Little did she know, but her “spontaneous” decision to leave her apartment had been at his suggestion—a message telegraphed with tantalizing snippets of the smell of fresh salt air, the caress of a soft breeze, and a glimpse of sensual pleasure.

She hadn’t heeded her own natural inhibition. Hadn’t paused to check the clock and note the waning evening hours. Instead, she’d made her decision, wriggled into a sexy little skirt and snug pink tee, slid her feet into strapless sandals and bounded down the stairs, ready to kick off winter’s gloom in an unseasonably warm spring night.

He’d made sure she didn’t glance even once at the calendar resting on the bureau in her foyer. Nothing would trigger a fleeting memory. And while he’d provided himself the opportunity to see her, he’d decided days ago he wouldn’t use his persuasive gifts to bring her straight into his arms.

Tonight, he wanted to savor a natural seduction.

She paused along the gangway that followed the curving street through a long, outdoor strip mall. At the bottom of one set of stairs leading into a seafood restaurant, she lifted one foot, planting it on the first paved step.

As he drew back the suggestion that had led her here, her brow furrowed, and she shook her head. Her foot slipped off the step and slowly settled beside the other.

In a blur of movement no human would detect, he slid in behind her. “Did you forget something?” he murmured, careful to keep his tone innocently inquiring.

A gasp escaped, and her head jerked to the side then tilted up to meet his gaze. Her eyes widened, and then slid over his shoulders before rising again. “You frightened me.”

The deepening frown that bisected her brow amused him. She was annoyed and not bothering to hide it. Her eyes narrowed. “I know who you are.”

Viper jerked imperceptibly. His heart tripped, and then thudded dully again. She couldn’t mean what he thought. “I doubt that. If we’d met, I would have remembered,” he lied, giving her a rueful twist of his lips. More of a smile than most ever saw.

Her head shook, sending her fine, dark hair shivering silkily across her cheeks.

The urge to tuck her hair behind her ears was almost irresistible. He curled his fingers and stuffed both hands into the pockets of his faded jeans. “Who do you think I am?”

Gaze narrowing, she hesitated. “I’ve seen you before. At a club near the water. You’re the manager.”

Viper suppressed a grin, relieved her clouded mind hadn’t jumped to the right conclusion. She was talking about Dylan’s club. “I’m just filling in for a friend at The Cavern until he returns home. I have no ambition to run his place permanently.”

“The Cavern.” She nodded. “That’s the one. It’s a strange place. I did a piece there about the rise of Sanguinarian blood rituals. A whole subculture devoted to the practice exists, and most of them in this area hang out at your friend’s place.”

“You’re a writer then? Or are you a television reporter?” he asked, knowing full well she wrote a column for the social section of the Seattle Times.

Her casual shrug belied the fact she was serious about her work. Ambitious even. Or at least she had been. The social section wouldn’t encompass her ambition for much longer. A worrisome thought. However, he’d always loved that about her. She kept her eyes on the prize and rushed headlong wherever her curiosity and drive led. An excellent quality for a reporter, but one that had spelled disaster for him.

But then, she didn’t remember any of it. She hadn’t retained that lesson, because he’d needed her to remain safe.

“You know, they have a dress code here,” she murmured, eyeing his black leather jacket and T-shirt, and then sliding her glance quickly down his legs before rising again. A faint blush tinged her pale cheeks.

Viper’s eyelids dipped. “I’m not planning on going inside. I was waiting for someone.”

“Lucky girl,” she said softly, then shook her head again. “I don’t really have a reservation or anything, and I’m not dressed for it either. I’m not really sure why I stopped…”

His glance panned the line of people waiting patiently for their names to be called by the restaurant hostess who roamed outside, jotting on a clipboard. “Doesn’t look like my friend is planning to show. Would you like to go somewhere else?” he said quickly, not wanting her to decide to return home before he had a chance to chat her up and build a little trust and interest.

Time stretched between them. Her gaze flitted down the row of well-lit shops, still open with people walking leisurely along the covered walkway. A soft evening mist muted the glare of the streetlamps, as well as the sounds of the people passing them by as they stood at the bottom of the steps leading into the trendy restaurant.

“I promise I don’t bite,” he added, fighting the urgency building in his body to keep his words light and casual. “We can just take a walk. Find a cup of coffee, if you like.” He wanted her to say yes without any of his extra “persuasion.” Wanted her to choose him of her own free will.

A long indrawn breath lifted her chest, and she gave him a small, tentative smile. “A Starbucks is at the end of the strip.”

Warmth seeped into his chest. And although he knew tomorrow he’d pay a heavy price, he needed this night with her, whether it ended in her bed, as he hoped, or not. Simply standing this close, feeling the warmth of her body and breathing in her fresh, sweet scent flooded him with joy.

Hello again! Grace Adams here, Nearly Published Author of Elemental Dragons book one Fire’s Rising. I’m thrilled to be back as a guest blogger of the gracious Delilah Devlin.

Last time in my first ever guest blog post I offered a chance to win a copy of my debut paranormal romance to anyone who commented, so let me first offer congratulations to Debra Guyette. I’ll reach out and make sure I’ve got your details and you’ve got mine, and before Fall turns to Winter you’ll be my first ever honest-to-goodness reader-who’s-not-related-to-me. In the meantime, read on while I reveal Clan Drakon’s sigil as well as all four of the Elemental Dragon titles. And tell you how to enter to win a set of these dragon magnets (see below!).

I read contemporary romance, historical romance, and romantic suspense, but my favorite genre is paranormal romance. I think it’s because my first book love was science fiction/fantasy. When paranormal romance burst onto the scene, I had the best of both worlds. So the choice of what genre to write, when I finally decided to write, was a simple one. And so was the choice of what kind of paranormal creatures I’d write about. Because it was always going to be dragons.

Ah, dragons. I’ve wanted a dragon of my own ever since I picked up my first Anne McCaffrey Dragonriders of Pern book. How I devoured book after book about Pern and its dragons.

So all these years later I asked myself, what if dragons were real? All capable of flight and breathing fire, but each with a magical bond to one of the four elements: Fire, Air, Water, and Earth.

And what if human beings could be dual-souled, sharing their minds and bodies with dragons who emerge from within their human half? Of course, the dragons would share their magic. These dragon shifters would be powerful beings when in dragon form and equally so when in human form, with their dragon’s shared magic affording the shifter an affinity over some aspect of their dragon’s element.

I imagined the dragon shifters of Clan Drakon have always walked among humanity, hidden for the Clan’s entire two-thousand-year history, yet emerging often enough to spawn fantastical myths and mysteries. Awakening awe. Fear. Even loathing. For perhaps the medieval Order of the Dragon — yes, there actually was a real medieval Order of the Dragon — was in fact formed by knights fanatically devoted to destroying all dragon shifters and obliterating their abomination from God’s sight…

Fire. Air. Water. Earth. Elemental. But with dragons!

Book one will be Fire’s Rising, about fire dragons Lili and Cole, meeting in the summer at the start of a year-long battle between Clan Drakon and the Order of the Dragon. The story continues into the fall with air dragon Nina and virologist Reuel in Wind’s Fury, shivers through winter with water dragon Sonnan and CDC doctor Adrian in Storm’s Warning, and races to its conclusion in the spring with earth dragon James and FBI agent Isabella in Earth’s Awakening.

In my slow-but-steady crawl toward publication, I come to you now with the reveal of the sigil for my clan of dragon shifters, Clan Drakon.

Contest

Thanks for reading! For a chance to win the set of magnets, tell me your favorite mythological creature in the comments. Have you always wanted to meet a mermaid at the shore? Fly with a griffon? Race through the woods with a fairy? What magical being has filled your dreams and flights of fantasy?

About the Author

Grace Adams is a 2017 Golden Heart® finalist and award-winning author of paranormal romance who loves nothing more than a happy ending. Whatever the genre, regardless of the medium, as long as justice prevails, the good guys win, and people are falling in love, she’s in.

A lifelong reader of science fiction, fantasy, and of course romance, Grace also enjoys painting and drawing and is an avid skier. One of those rare Geeks who loves both Star Wars AND Star Trek, she’s got a closet full of costumes she created and firmly believes that she who dies with the most fabric (and books) (and shoes) wins.

Grace has a B.S. in Mathematics from Ursinus College and an M.A. in English from Wright State University.  She is a veteran of the USAF as a communications officer and currently works as an IT Controls Analyst. She shares her home with the best super cats ever, Thor and Loki.

UPDATE: The winners are…Terra Oenning, Alison Rush, and Tabitha Parrish!
*~*~*

I love writing short stories. I used to submit short stories to publishers all the time because writing short, getting to The End quickly, gave me a rush. Writing short also gives me a chance to try new things out without a lot of risks. I “graduated” to editing and publishing my own collections of short stories because I love the process of seeking stories from talented officers, making choices regarding which stories work together, editing every precious word, and then sending the book out into the world for readers to enjoy. I’m working on volume #6 of my Boys Behaving Badly Anthologies right now—Cowboys—that I think you’ll like. It releases on October 12th! The book is a big thick volume of shorties, and it’s dirt cheap—just $0.99. No excuses at all for anyone not to pick up a copy! Click on the cover of Cowboys to pre-order your copy now!

You can check out the first five by clicking on the covers. And yes, they are all just $0.99—not because they’re not worth full price, but because the authors of these stories want as many people as possible to devour their stories! They’re a great deal and great way to find new-to-you authors!

Contest

Comment for a chance to win the download of your choice of
one these anthologies!  There will be three winners!

Excerpt From “Bountiful Lust” inside Blue Collar…

Bulldog gave me the evil eye as we walked toward the small, clapboard house on the bad side of town. “Shit goes sideways,” he said, “you stand back and let me handle it.”

I offered him a non-committal nod. “Think Mrs. Holcomb will give you that much trouble?”

He snorted and skewered me with a narrow-eyed glare.

“Ooh,” I said in my best little-girl voice and gave an exaggerated shiver, hoping he’d trip over his big feet. Not that I had to pretend my reaction too much. Something about the big burly guy did it for me. His face was too manly to be handsome—square jaw, crooked nose, laser-sharp blue eyes. Thick, gold-brown hair dusted the collar of his jacket. His six-foot-four, heavily-muscled frame made me feel feminine and soft and all those other useless qualities I despised in “helpless” females. Go figure—the thought of those big, hard hands rasping over my skin made me tremble.

At Mrs. Holcomb’s door, I knocked.

No response.

I knocked again. Still nothing.

Bulldog stepped to the left and peered into the window. “Don’t think anyone’s home. And since this is his address of record…” He backed up and raised a booted foot.

“Really want to knock down her door?” I pulled my lock-pick kit from my back pocket and knelt in front of the knob. A couple of twists of my tools, and the lock snicked. I turned the knob and quickly moved away from the door, giving way to Bulldog as he grumbled something under his breath about smartass women and strode inside.

Bulldog’s big frame filled my view, so I was taken by surprise when he cussed and rushed toward a hallway.

A crash sounded in a distant room. Light from an open doorway in the back glared as he ran through it. I followed, watching as our target ran for the chain link fence and vaulted it.

Bulldog cussed again, placed a hand on the top of the fence, but when he swung over his big body, the thin metal running through the top caved, and he fell to the dirt.

I picked another spot farther down the fence, grabbed a post and swung over, landing on my booted feet and shooting down the alleyway.

Behind me, I heard grunts and more curses, and finally, “Dammit, Buttercup, wait for me!”

I wasn’t waiting for shit. Lenny moved fast for a big boy. He was almost at the end of the alley. If I didn’t catch him quickly, I’d lose sight of him, and we’d lose our paycheck. With my breaths coming fast and sweat trickling into my eyes, I sped up, reaching out with my fingertips to snatch a handful of his shirt. With the fabric in my fist, I drew back and swung him.

He went sideways, but he didn’t go down. He twisted out of my grasp and raised his fists, his eyes widening as he looked me up and down, an ugly sneer stretching across his equally ugly face.

He swung.

But I was ready, ducking beneath and coming up to drive my fists into his fat gut, then bouncing back to avoid the next wide swing.

When he didn’t connect, his swing carried him forward, and he turned.

I rocketed to his back and wrapped my arm around his throat, grasping my fist to keep my arm in place, as he staggered then went to his knees, his fingers scratching my arms before reaching backward to pull my hair.

But he didn’t get a hank. His body crashed forward, bringing me with him, because my arm was trapped beneath his thick neck.

Boots pounded the pavement then slowed.

“Buttercup, need a hand?”

I wheezed, trying to drag in a breath as his weight crushed me against the pavement. “Roll him so I can get back my arm.”

Lenny’s body rolled to his side.

Bulldog lowered his boot then bent to offer me a hand up. His gaze went to the thick scratches on my arms.

Blood ran in rivulets from the deep gouges.

“Goddammit.” Bulldog’s scowl was scary as he blew out a deep breath, and then reached behind his neck to pull his T-shirt over his head.

He tossed it at me.

All I could do was stare at the grayscale tattoos covering his shoulders and chest, disappearing into his jeans.

“Wrap this around your arm. You’re gonna bleed all over my truck.” Then he went down on one knee and locked cuffs around Lenny’s fat wrists. When he stood, he kicked the low-life in the ass.

After we’d dropped Lenny at the jail, Bulldog remained silent as we drove.

My arm stung like hell, so I was fine with the quiet for the first while.

His expression was so dark, I didn’t dare try to make small talk. When he missed the turnoff to the agency, I straightened and darted a glance his way. His narrowed gaze swung toward me, daring me to say a word. I sat back, my heart thudding hard inside my chest. Just how pissed was he?