When I moved to Chicago, I never expected to write a shifter series set here. But now, it’s hard to imagine the place without them. Edgewater is tiger territory. Lakeview has wolves. The jaguars are in several predominantly Mexican-American neighborhoods. The bears are in former Russian mob territory in Rogers Park. There isn’t any Russian mob territory in Rogers Park? Sure there is. We put it there.

That’s the fun part of writing – we get to create worlds within worlds, sometimes overlaid on the real one we all live in. But this isn’t that much different than reality, after all: the city of Chicago is made up of lots of neighborhoods: Little Italy, Chinatown, Greektown, the west side, Hyde Park, Rogers Park – the list could fill an entire page. And the distinctions aren’t just ethnic, either – Boystown is famous, and Andersonville is filled with the girls. Then there’s Restaurant Row, famous for fooderies; the near west side and its artists’ lofts, and the technology corridor along Elston and incorporating Goose Island. There are even neighborhood maps of Chicago, in case it’s confusing.

When Rachel and I wrote Cat’s Cradle, we knew we’d be telling a story of two cities: the one that we all know and love, and the one that she and I created that sits on top of reality. We studied the neighborhoods, so we’d know where the ocelots have their home base, adjacent to the jaguars’ territory but still separate. We even have a map of these areas so we don’t confuse ourselves.

So, here’s a question for you, Dear Reader:

If you were to put an extra layer of reality on your home town,
what would you put there? Shifters? Cowboys? The fae?

Cat’s Cradle

When you’re an ex-Marine tiger shifter, love comes with a high cost – is it too much to pay?

Mitchell Brayden is an ex-Marine tiger shifter looking for love in all the wrong places. When he decides to rescue a young ocelot shifter from a rich, spoiled playboy, he embroils himself in a conflict that goes back generations.

Guadalupe Salazar grew up as a pampered pet of a benevolent patron. After his patron’s untimely death, he stays on with the patron’s son – a self-centered, weak man who got ensnared by the drugs and fast living in the States. One night, it goes too far and Lupe is beaten nearly to death. He is taken to a secret shifter clinic where he meets an unlikely knight in tarnished armor.

Together, Mitch and Lupe confront the playboy and his friends – but will their actions draw the rest of the jaguar familias, not to mention the ocelot clans, into a battle over Lupe’s future? Will the delicate balance of power destroy everything that Mitch’s small band of tiger shifters has built in Chicago?

Buy link: https://www.amazon.com/Cats-Cradle-Chicagoland-Shifters-Book-ebook/dp/B011UT6EN6

As a writer sometimes I get so caught up in the business side of writing. Edits, covers, promotion, deadlines, and book signings can all take their toll. And sometimes causes me to lose my inspiration to write.

I just recently got back from a vacation in Charleston, South Carolina and I did something I have never done. I gave myself permission to take the week off from writing and to actually be in the moment and enjoy myself. There were long days at the beach, tours to gorgeous plantation homes and slow walks around the charming city.  I made a conscious effort to enjoy myself and be in the moment.

Once I got back home I was refreshed and inspired and excited to get back to writing.

Every day since then, I take mini vacations. I’ll take a walk around the neighborhood, or go to a coffee shop and enjoy a cup of Chia Latte, or go sit by my little pond in the back yard with a glass of wine.

Writing is the best job in the world and I’m grateful I get to do what I love every single day. But I know in order to write my best I have to be my best.

So the next time you’re feeling stressed give yourself permission to take a thirty minute break and just breathe. You’ll be amazed at how much it will inspire you.

Hell on Wheels…
Werewolf Guardian, Damon Trahan lives by a Code: Protect the Pack with his life. Damon has experienced death and betrayal, now all he wants is the freedom of his Harley and the loyalty of the men he rides with, the only family he has left. Those are the things he knows and believes in. Love and the hurt that comes with it has no place in his world…Until he receives new orders: Rescue female werewolf, Ava Renfroe from a Pack of rogue wolves.

Hell on Heels…
Bartender Ava Renfroe is tired of Alpha males running her life. Being raised as the daughter of a Military General made her want independence more than air—and she has it! Until she’s kidnapped. Damon Trahan, her alpha male rescuer and bossy pain-in-the-ass, is exactly the kind of man she doesn’t want, but try telling that to her libido. His brooding good looks are panty-dropping hot. Too bad he’s bat-shit crazy and thinks he’s a werewolf. Worse, he claims she’s a werewolf too. But when Damon shifts in front of her, she begins to doubt everything she’s known to be true.

Hell to pay…
On the run from the rogues, Ava and Damon can’t ignore the red hot passion between them. But Damon knows it can’t last. Will he sacrifice everything he’s ever known to have the one thing he’s never meant to have? Or will the war between the Packs destroy them before love is given a chance?

About the Author

Jodi is the author of the RISE OF THE ARKANSAS WEREWOLVES series and writes paranormal romance as well as contemporary romance. Born and raised in Mississippi, her deep Southern roots and love of the paranormal led her to write Southern Paranormal novels. When she is not conversing with characters in her head, she can be found at her home in Northeast Arkansas with her handsome husband, brilliant son, a temperamental swan, and yellow lab that is fond of retrieving turtles when duck season is over.

Find her on Facebook, Jodi Vaughn, author.
Follow her on Twitter @JodiVaughn1
Sign up for her newsletter and check out her website https://jodivaughn.com
Find her on Instagram at VaughnJodi

UPDATE: The winner of the free story is…Donna!

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Thought I’d lead with the spectacular lineup of hawt-as-hell books! And see mine way down there at the bottom? Yup, I’m playing in Cat Johnson’s sandbox! These are all “crossover” novellas, meaning our SEAL worlds are intersecting with Cat’s Hot SEALs world. Getting to know the other authors has been a blast. I hope you will check out each story. They will all be live (fingers crossed) on August 4th!

And if you’d like to spend some time in my Uncharted SEALs world before my story comes out, these are the two previous titles. Just click on the covers to read the blurb and an excerpt, and to find those purchase links!

Just remember, my seals are ATHLETIC. 🙂 Expect these stories to have an element of danger and to be wildly sexy!

  

For a chance to win either Watch Over Me or Her Next Breath,
be sure to leave a comment!

Coming August 4th! — Through Her Eyes

Ex-SEAL and expert sniper, Wolf Kinkaid, is taking a little downtime while he considers his options. Being wooed by two elite black ops groups, he’s enjoying Charter Group’s beach house while he considers his options. A loner by nature and occupation, he wonders if he’ll ever really be able to connect to people around him. Afraid his loner nature will sentence him to spending his life alone, he’s not even sure he wants to continue looking down a scope, even if the pay’s good.

Bounty hunter Piper Ames loves the adrenaline rush she gets from her high-stakes hunts, but now, she has time on her hands as she waits for her collar to pop up his head so she can take him down. While she’s waiting, it doesn’t hurt that a big, buff, ex-military type is staying right next door. Not the least shy about going after what she wants, she’s surprised when he’s equally as aggressive. Their chemistry is off the charts, and the sex is the hottest she’s ever had.

While Wolf and Piper connect in the only ways their independent natures allow, danger lurks. When, at last, her target arrives, guns blazing, Wolf and Piper have to pull together to make it out alive.

Happy July 31^st! I’d like to start by thanking Delilah for allowing me to guest today. She and the entire writing community have been extremely warm and welcoming to this newbie. I am in awe of their generosity and kindness!

Three Confessions of a Newbie

• I am smart enough to know that I am ignorant. It’s true; no matter how much you know, there is always more to learn, a lot more. Being a writer can be a lesson in humility or an educational adventure, depending upon how you look at it. Readers are smart and savvy so authors have to know their stuff. I can’t mistake Athena for the Goddess of the Hunt, call a famous Samurai a ninja or mix up Princess Joanna of Castile for her sister, Mary, Queen of Hungry. With writing, there is no fake it ‘till you make it so I find myself researching subjects far and wide from ancient mythology, the Bible, military hierarchy, state laws, Asian history, the Vatican and everything in between. I won’t even get into all I don’t know about the publishing industry, but I’m learning more every day.
• I’m terrified! I haven’t been writing as long as a lot of other authors my age. I’ve had stories bubbling and brewing in my head all my life, but I never wrote any of them down until sometime in 2013. At first, I was just amusing myself, but I developed a love for writing. Suddenly I dreamed of becoming a professional author. When my first book, Do Geek Girl’s Dream of Electric Sweeties? was published June 5, 2015, I was thrilled, but now I’m scared of turning my dream into a nightmare. Sometimes fear and self-doubt weigh heavily on me, but I think maybe those negative feelings are important to the process. What else could motivate me to re-read and edit a manuscript 100+ times just to make sure it was everything I wanted it to be? Besides, over the years many amazing authors and artists have confessed to the same thing so at least I’m in good company.
• My process owns me, not the other way around. Those stories rolling around in my brain make me run for my laptop, and the chapters pour forth, but when it’s over, it’s over. My muse might give me everything but chapter six out of sixteen, but I won’t get chapter six until she is ready to give it up. Meanwhile, that muse has started cooking a few more dishes. I just have to move on and write what she tells me until ding, ding, ding—Oh, so that’s how chapter six is supposed to read! Currently, I have two stories submitted to publishers, four partials at varying degrees of completion and a couple of rough outlines I’m not sure when I will get around to writing. Which story gets finished next is up to that persnickety muse, but either way, I still love the process.

 Do Geek Girl’s Dream of Electric Sweeties?

Graphic novel artist and author Mary Allison is a lot like the famous candy that melts in your mouth—a sexy, sassy outer shell hides her sweet and creamy, geek girl center. Holden, her strict, uptight editor, would personify nails across a chalkboard if he weren’t so good looking. She finds herself attracted to him but is certain they could never mesh romantically.

Unbeknownst to Mary Allison, Holden has been enthralled by her from the start, even going so far as to stall his career to continue working with her. On the verge of becoming lovers, they’re impeded by interruptions and misunderstandings. The geek girl and the stuffy editor must learn to communicate and connect before fear and confusion keep them apart forever.

Reader Advisory: This story has graphic sexual language and scenes—no closed bedroom doors (or other rooms) here!

Short Excerpt: Mary Allison decided to give Holden a little push and see if he was really interested in her or if he actually came all the way over to her place just to watch TV. Without a word, she leaned into him, resting her body against his side and tucking herself underneath his strong, muscular arm. Now the ball was in his court and Mary Allison hoped he would take it and run.

Holden didn’t miss a beat, quickly moving his arm to hold her securely in place. He even turned his head and nuzzled into her hair. “Well what do you know?” he said cryptically before adding, “It was you all along. Every damn time I came here that scent drew me in, and it was you. You smell delicious.”

Available for purchase at the following:

https://www.amazon.com/Geek-Girls-Dream-Electric-Sweeties-ebook/dp/B00YQ4S5C6

https://www.ellorascave.com/product/do-geek-girls-dream-of-electric-sweeties/

Author Bio: Sierra Brave is a southern girl with a love of fantasy fiction and well-written yarns spun from everyday situations. She thoroughly believes the characters should carry the story. If the hero, heroine and supporting characters are interesting, it doesn’t really matter where the action takes place.

Her love for erotic literature started when, as a senior in high school, she managed to snag a copy of the old classic, Fanny Hill. Sierra still remembers how deliciously naughty she felt carrying her copy in her book bag and hopes all her readers will feel just as daring and liberated while reading her books.

Ms. Brave lives in the deep, down, dirty south with her husband, three children, two little black dogs and one feisty orange cat.

Connect with Sierra on Facebook https://www.facebook.com/pages/Sierra-Brave/1422713414692067

And Twitter @BraveSierra

Enjoy the excerpt below! I’m so excited! Something to read while I wait for Outlander to return in the fall! Don’t forget to enter the Rafflecopter contest at the bottom of the page! ~DD

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Laird of her Heart: Book One in the Dundragon Trilogy by Sabrina York

When Maggie Spencer is mysteriously transported to the Scotland of her ancestors, she is stunned to come face to face with him. Dominic Dundragon, the man she’s been half in love with her whole life. A man who’s been dead for 700 years.

They both have enemies aplenty. Will she have a chance to win his love, or will this adventure end in disaster?

Read an excerpt

Maggie yelped as, without warning, the burly warrior named Declan whipped her up into his arms and tossed her over his shoulder. To her horror, she lost the hold on her locket.

“Wait,” she cried. She wriggled to get free, but his grip was too hard. When she pummeled his back with her fists as he strode from the circle of stones, he chuckled. The beast. But to be fair, he was so large, it would have felt like a kitten batting him. “Put me down.”

“I willna,” he said. “The Mackintosh will decide how you die.”

All right. That shut her up. For a minute. “Die? Why do I need to die?” What the hell had she done to him?

The man following, an enormous blond with a scar tracking his cheek bent down to peer at her. “The Mackintosh’s doona tolerate spies.”

“I’m not a spy.” Seriously. She wriggled more and Declan smacked her ass.

Smacked her ass.

She’d kill him when she got free. Just kill him.

“Yer wearing the Cameron colors,” the blond said. “And the Mackintosh’s doona—”

“Right. I know. The Mackintosh’s doona tolerate spies.” Her head was starting to spin from being upside down and jounced around with each step. Her temper was on a short leash. “But honestly, if I were a spy, would I wear the Cameron colors? It seems a little counterproductive in my opinion. I mean, if I’m spying and all. I might as wear a sign that says, oh, I dunno, honk if you love spies.”

His brow rumpled but he didn’t respond. At least, not to her. “She speaks strangely,” he complained to Declan.

Her captor snorted a laugh. “She dresses strangely too.”

“Aye. She does at that. I’ve heard the Cameron lasses are a wild lot, but I had no idea—”

“I’m. Not. A. Cameron.” She reached out and smacked the blond, but only because he came close enough. He reared back and gaped at her—as though he’d never been smacked before—and then he quickly moved out of range.

It hardly mattered, because, apparently, they had reached their destination, a camp on the edge of the woods. The sounds of nickering horses and clanks of pots gave her her first clue—she was facing the other way, after all.

Her second clue was that Declan dropped her on the ground. She landed with an oof. She glared at him. He didn’t seem to mind in the slightest. “Go get my brother, Ewan,” he barked, and the blond trotted off to one of the larger tents.

When she stood and brushed off her jeans, Declan bristled and she shot him a sardonic glare. Did he think she was stupid enough to run away? For one thing, these enormous men had her surrounded. For another, she never ran. Not if she could help it.

Instead, she made a quick survey of her surroundings. The camp was little more than a huddle of tents with the forest on one side and a sweeping plain on the other. A small herd of horses were hobbled to one side and a deer roasted over a pit fire. An entire deer. Before she could silence the thought—she often had that problem—she said, “You killed Bambi.”

Declan’s brow rumpled. “I dinna kill anyone.” And then he asked, “Who is Bambi?”

“Never mind.” She crossed her arms and turned away pretending to ignore them. But she wasn’t. She was aware they were all staring at her like she was a curiosity in a zoo, but she was taking in tiny details as well. Like the fact that their clothes were all handmade and simple. Their hair appeared to have been cut with a chainsaw and their beards were scraggly and long. Their weapons were what made her mind really start to spin though.

One held a crossbow that dated from the thirteenth century. Another had a Mackintosh dirk that resembled one she’d seen in a museum once. Declan had a simple calfskin sporran tied to his belt.

Odd. Could she have wandered into some renaissance faire? But no. It had been evening when she stepped into the woods and now it was daytime. Early afternoon. And the acres of woods around the house belonged to the family. It couldn’t be—

“So.” She flinched as a deep, melodious voice wafted to her on a hint of humor. Shivers danced through her, along with a prickling sense of premonition. “You’ve captured a Cameron spy?”

She turned slowly and froze as her gaze landed on him. On that so-familiar face. Broad, handsome, savage. Much more captivating than the sketch had been. Much more captivating by far.

She must be hallucinating. She had to be.

He was the hero of her dreams come to life.

Dominic Dundragon, Laird of the Mackintosh clan.

Large, looming and in the flesh.

Her head went woozy. Her vision blurred. And then, for the first time in her life, she fainted.

GET IT NOW!

https://www.amazon.com/Laird-Heart-Dundragon-Travel-Trilogy-ebook/dp/B012EP0NT6/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1437759426&sr=1-1&keywords=laird+of+her+heart

 

ABOUT SABRINA YORK

Her Royal Hotness, Sabrina York, is the New York Times and USA Today Bestselling author of hot, humorous stories for smart and sexy readers. Her titles range from sweet & sexy to scorching romance. Visit her webpage at www.sabrinayork.com to check out her books, excerpts and contests.

For more information, or to connect with Sabrina, visit SabrinaYork.Com

Never Miss a New Book! Sign up for Sabrina’s Book Alerts Today!

Get exclusive reads, enter subscriber only contests and be the first to know about coming books!

CONNECT

Website: SabrinaYork.Com
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If you love hot highlanders, be sure to read Sabrina York’s Untamed Highlanders from St. Martin’s Press!

 Hannah and the Highlander

Susana and the Scot

Lana and the Laird—Coming in 2016

a Rafflecopter giveaway

UPDATE: The winner of the free download of this story is…Liberty Ann Ireland!

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This week, I’m busy writing the next Uncharted SEALs story—this one’s about an ex-sniper on vacation in Cancun trying to figure out what’s next for him. He meets a very sexy woman and things get hot and heavy fast, but she has some secrets… I’m nearing the end, and a good thing—Through Her Eyes comes out August 4th!

So, in the meantime, enjoy an excerpt from the first Uncharted SEALs story, Watch Over Me. 🙂

Leave a comment and you’ll be entered to win a free copy of WATCH OVER ME!

Watch Over Me

When Deke Warrick accepts an unsanctioned detail to keep tabs on a congressman’s niece while she vacations in the Caribbean, he expects the only dangers he’ll face are sunburn and a rum hangover. Determined to keep his distance, his resolve is challenged by a chance encounter with the beautiful Nicky Martir—and then shattered when she’s snatched from their hotel room.

She arrived at her door breathless and slipped him her key card. Once he’d opened the door and done his little safety check, he directed his attention back to her, laser focus sliding over her body, head to toe, leaving her feeling singed everywhere his gaze touched.

He turned on the lamp beside the bed then strode to the overhead light switch, turning it off. Then he went to work on his buttons, jerking his chin in her direction. “Get those off.”

Although she’d never been spoken to like that before by a man, she didn’t need to be told twice. His delivery was harsh and graveled, his words straight to the point—and she found she liked it. But she didn’t dare betray her inward grin. She couldn’t have him feeling too confident. Already once tonight, he’d taken her to the edge of her endurance. Her pride wouldn’t allow her to reveal the extent of her desire. She narrowed her gaze and took her sweet time stepping out of her shoes, removing the few pieces of jewelry she’s worn—earrings, a thin bracelet—and setting them on the bedside table. By the time she reached for her zipper, she saw he was already nude and he’d folded his arms over her broad chest.

Her fingers went still as she stared at him. Her mouth dried. In the golden glow of a single lamp, his body was a beautiful, burnished brown, except for the pale stripe of skin across his hips. Her gaze went straight to his sex, already fully awakened, and jutting from his groin. Perfectly proportioned with his large, muscular body. Oh my. Her thighs pressed together at the renewed urgency cramping her core.

He strode toward her, more intimidating naked than he’d been clothed, and she fought to breathe, lifting her hair clear of her zipper as he circled behind her and slid down her zipper. She trembled as he quickly pushed her dress to the floor and hooked his thumbs in the sides of her panties to drag those off, too.

Standing naked, she shivered in the cool conditioned air as he circled her again, his head bent as he studied her body. Not politely, either. His hands touched everywhere his gaze went, smoothing over her bottom, her hip, lifting her breasts one at a time. Slipping between her legs to cup her mound. Feeling as though she’d been thoroughly inspected, she didn’t know whether she should feel flattered or outraged.

When he stopped right in front of her, he lifted her chin with a curved finger. “I can’t be…polite.” Read the rest of this entry »

Just woke up and it’s hard to be creative when all I want to do is crawl back under the covers. I was having this wonderful dream. A much younger William Shatner and Leonard Nimoy were at a convention, and I was one of the lucky fans selected to have dinner with them. I brought my camera with me to get photographic proof James T. Kirk was at my table, but every time I clicked a shot the picture was overexposed. What a nightmare! 🙂

So, that got me thinking. Frustrated fantasies have to be pretty common in Dream World. So do dreams about famous celebrities.

Can you remember one of yours?