Hi! I’m new here, so don’t mind me as I get comfortable. I have recently hired an assistant, and what a God send. However, I’m still doing things last minute as I do my day job (editing) while trying to meet writing deadlines…and that doesn’t count family time!

I recently had a close brush with death (mid October). I have asthma. I had an attack. I was alone and losing consciousness. My daughter messaged me until I answered. Then, when I started losing consciousness again, a friend called and kept me awake until I made it to the hospital. I was disoriented. Had no idea where I was… Still not sure how I made it to the hospital.

Life is precious. Don’t forget that in the midst of daily life.

I’m a writer, painter, editor, et al. I write everything from urban fantasy zombies to romance with happily ever after. My latest few stories have had magic in them. And Scotland. And Highlands. I am sensing a theme here. But what does it have to do with the aforementioned asthma attack?

I realized how badly I wanted to make it as a writer. I mean, I sort of knew that already, but it remained after the life changing moment. That writing really is important to me. More time hugging my kids. Check. More time talking to friends. Check. And more writing… Not so check. It is November. To me, it starts the magical holiday season. (Honestly, I am not sure why I don’t have more Christmas stories out!) So, I need to remember the simple magic of being alive and following my dreams.

My recent brush has helped me keep on track for my dreams, even as my personal life is falling apart and this will be one of the worst Christmases I have ever lived through. I have hope and belief that this trial will leave me out on the other end better and more powerful as a creator.

So, in writing a story, I’m terribly mean to my characters. It’s a great way to work through a little angst in your life. I put them through things to make them stronger. To give them character and dimension, and plus, it has the added benefit of making things more fun to read. Hmmm…. Maybe I should be a little nicer to them?

Nah. *grin*

Even in the “light hearted” tale I recently released (Enduring Legacy series, each book can be read alone), erm… I may have killed off a few people. *shifty eyes*

Christmas makes me smile. I want to bake and cook and craft to my heart’s content. I like to curl up with a good book, drink coffee or hot chocolate, and gaze out on the snow. I don’t get as much time to do that as I like. It may be time to make it a priority again.

What are your favorite books to read during the holidays? Your favorite place?

What is your priority during the festive season?

I will give a free book to one lucky commenter. 😊Your choice of A Hunter, a Witch, and a Shrew, or Zombie Infestation.

About the Author

USA Today bestselling author Leona Bushman is a crazy writer taught by dragons and known as Dragon Queen of the North. She loves to write and paint, even when her muse tries to muck things up. She chases after the three out of the five children still at home, and sometimes after the other two and the grandbaby around her freelance editing jobs. She has many hobbies like SCA, painting, quilting, sewing, and gardening. Or, as one blogger succinctly put it, Leona Bushman is a whirlwind made of sheer will with a dash of clumsy to keep her grounded.

She can be found solving mysteries, exploring space, making art, and loving dragons and other creatures of the supernatural at these places:

Twitter: @L_Bushman
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/AuthorLeonaBushman
Facebook artist page: https://www.facebook.com/LeonaBushmanArtisteExtraordinaire/
Website: www.leonajbushman.com
Blog: www.lbushman.blogspot.com and www.lbushman.wordpress.com
Newsletter: https://madmimi.com/signups/374285/join

I frequently post under the hashtags #thenextleonardodavinci and #thenextleonardodavinciandson

Also available by Leona Bushman (romance):
The Ulfric’s Mate, book 1 (War of the Weres series)
The Midwife’s Moon, book 2 (War of the Weres series)
Bearly There, book 1 (War of the Weres Chronicles)
Fox in the Wolf Den, book 2 (War of the Weres Chronicles)
Pirating Christmas
The Shot, book 2(Traincoach of Death series)
Luck of the Draw
Winds of Fire (Eagle Claw series)
Murder by Succubus
Magic and Weres (anthology)
Masked Pain
Over a Dead Body
Slow Fever
Darkest Death, book 1 (Darkest Series)
In for a Penny, book 1(Traincoach of Death series)
Highland Magic, book 1 (Highland Magic series)
A Hunter, a Witch, and a Shrew

Also available by Leona Bushman
writing as LJ Bushman (non romance):
Demons and Wraiths
Death’s Car
The Fight of the Sorceress
Zombie Infestation
Cerisa’s Quest, book 1 Quest of Riverhand

Coming Soon:
Darkest Death, book 2 (Darkest Series)
The Panther’s Hunter, book 3 (War of the Weres series)
Evil in the Highlands, book 2 (Highland Magic)

I’m a Texan. And proud of it. You know the old saying “Everything’s bigger in Texas”? Folks here don’t just say what it is, we illustrate it. We don’t get thirsty, we get “so dry we’re spitting cotton”. We’re not busy, we’re “busy as a one-armed paper hanger. Weather is “hotter than a summer revival” or colder than a well-digger’s knee (or other parts of the anatomy). If we feel like someone is dishonest, we “wouldn’t trust him any farther than we could throw him,” because none of us “fell off the turnip truck yesterday.”

If my grandmother shivered involuntarily, she “bucked a rigor”. Instead of swearing out loud and getting switched with a peach tree limb, my uncle muttered “GARDEN SEED” whenever he got angry. At the end of a lecture, my mother always told me to “put that in your pipe and smoke it.” If someone came to visit, my grandfather sometimes said, “Well, look what the cat dragged in.”

I never questioned this colorful slang until I started writing. Some people love it. Some people don’t like it at all. They consider it cliché. Or they don’t know what it means.

My next book will be about girl who lives in present day deep east Texas, and I hope to use some of the colorful sayings I love the most. Either people won’t “cotton to it” or it will work “slick as a whistle”.

Susan A. Royal
Xander’s Tangled Web (fantasy, mystery)
https://tinyurl.com/yconklde
In My Own Shadow (fantasy, adventure, romance)
https://tinyurl.com/bqbxm41
Book trailer
https://youtu.be/Wbg8Z-12ojY
Not Long Ago (time travel, adventure, romance)
https://tinyurl.com/85vgye3
Book trailer
https://youtu.be/vOIQVdWUigU/
https://susanaroyal.wordpress.com
https://susanaroyal.com
All books available at MuseItUp, Amazon, B&N, Goodreads

About the Author

Born in west Texas and raised in south Texas, Susan shared a 100-year-old farmhouse in a small east Texas town with a singing ghost for years. Now she lives in the country.

Mother of three and grandmother of six, she comes from a family rich with characters, both past and present. Susan’s grandmother shared stories of living on a farm in Oklahoma Territory and working as a telephone operator in the early 20th century. She learned all about growing up in the depression from her father and experienced being a teenager during WWII through her mother’s eyes.

Susan loves taking her readers through all kinds of adventures. So far, she’s written two books in her It’s About Time series, Not Long Ago and From Now On, and is working on book three. They are time travel adventures about two people who fall in love despite the fact they come from very different worlds. In My Own Shadow is a Fantasy adventure/romance. Xander’s Tangled Web is a YA fantasy with romance. Look for her books at MuseItUp/Amazon/B&N.

Want to know more? Visit susanaroyal.wordpress.com for a peek inside this writer’s mind and see what she’s up to. You never know what new world she’s going to visit next.

When ideas are flowing fast, it’s all I can do to write fast enough to get it all down. I need a clone. LOL. I love when I’m deep into a story, and the story is going well. When I write, I connect with each moment in the story. Connect with the characters and walk with them as they go through whatever happens in the story. The book drives me to keep writing. I’m eager to see what happens next right along with my characters. The adventure of it all is such fun, and I love it.

Each book has its own personality and quirks that are unveiled as you write. It’s like getting to know someone you just met. Of course, you have impressions from what you view of them, and you are either proven right or wrong once you get to know them. Then as you get more familiar with that person, you get more in-depth with them and learn so much about them.

That is how I view a book—a new person I want to know so much more about. So when I write, that is my goal—to take a reader from that initial first impression they get when they read the blurb to making them become a part of the story. To make the reader become part of the fabric of the story. I love getting to do that when I write. Taking a journey of a story then bringing a reader along with me.

Seducing a God

When a God meets a woman who is a decadent distraction, he finds himself being seduced.

Universal Link for Amazon, Nook, iBooks and Kobo, etc: https://bit.ly/seducingagod

Taige Crenshaw has been enthralled with the written word from time she picked up her first book. It wasn’t long before she started to make up her own tales of romance.

With interracial and multicultural novels set in today, in alternate dimensions, or in the future, she writes with adventure, fun sassy heroines, and sexy heroes.

Always hard at work creating new and exciting places, Taige can be found curled up with a hot novel with exciting characters when she is not creating her own. Join her in the fun, frolic, interesting people and far reaches of the world in her novels.

You can find out more about Taige at her website: https://www.taigecrenshaw.com
or blog: https://www.taigecrenshaw.com/blog.
Also find her on Facebook at her page
https://www.facebook.com/TaigeCrenshawAuthor
and Facebook group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/WordSlingerCafe.
Or on twitter: https://twitter.com/TaigeCrenshaw.

NEWSLETTER! Want to get the latest information and from Taige’s writing projects, giveaways, contests, reveals and more. Click on https://bit.ly/taigenews and signup today.

I have something I need to admit. *looks around then leans in* I’m a people watcher. There, I said it again. I’m talking about this because I had a conversation the other day that somehow lead to my being a people watcher. Yep I’m a people watcher. In my conversation I explained what I meant and why. Simply, it’s this—sitting back and observing others as they interact, or anyway I can get it, makes my mind race with ideas. I like to observe them and build stories about them. Imagining all sorts of scenarios about what story will fit them. I get a lot of my ideas from my people watching. There is something that can spark an idea which will expand into so much more. 🙂

Recently, this happened to me as I was out doing errands. I was walking and, in front of me, I saw this couple. As I shopped, they were just ahead of me so I was in a great place to people watch. The more I saw them the more my ideas flowed. It ranged from a newly dating couple to a established one. Then something happened to fuel my thoughts. Suddenly, they stopped and their body language went from close to distant then angry. That’s another great tool of the imagination—reading body language. But that’s another conversation for another day. Curious about what was happening before me, I stopped. The couple was too far away for me to hear but seeing the way they were I was able to figure out they were having a fight. The man stormed off leaving the lady, and she looked sad. It was an intense moment. I felt bad for her and the man she had been with. No, I didn’t know what they had fought about, but the emotions from their interaction were there to see.

As I walked away, I was wondering and my mind was filling in what could have happened. I’m a people watcher.

Veils Rising

Veils Rising – Man with secrets.
A Zuri Maji on hunt for answers. Will they survive?
Universal Link for Amazon, Nook, iBooks and Kobo, etc: https://bit.ly/veilsrising

About the Author

Taige Crenshaw has been enthralled with the written word from time she picked up her first book. It wasn’t long before she started to make up her own tales of romance.

With interracial and multicultural novels set in today, in alternate dimensions, or in the future, she writes with adventure, fun sassy heroine’s, and sexy hero’s.

Always hard at work creating new and exciting places, Taige can be found curled up with a hot novel with exciting characters when she is not creating her own. Join her in the fun, frolic, interesting people and far reaches of the world in her novels.

You can find out more about Taige…
website: https://www.taigecrenshaw.com
blog: https://www.taigecrenshaw.com/blog
facebook: https://www.facebook.com/TaigeCrenshawAuthor
facebook group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/WordSlingerCafe
Or twitter: @ https://twitter.com/TaigeCrenshaw

NEWSLETTER! Want to get the latest information and from Taige’s writing projects, giveaways, contests, reveals and more? Click on https://bit.ly/taigenews and signup today.

UPDATE: The winner is…Nancy Gilliland!
*~*~*

I’m releasing a story I wrote a while ago that was part of a series, but I’ve revised it to stand on its own. It’s one I loved writing, because I let my imagination run wild inside the stories I read when I was a child and completely in love with mythology. This is mostly based on Greek mythology and, of course, the reader gets to meet the dark and dangerous God of the Underworld, Hades. Well, you get to see quite a bit of him, actually. 🙂

Be sure to enter to win the contest, and read the very naughty excerpt I’ve included below…

Contest

Comment for a chance to win a $5 Amazon gift card! 

Is there a particular country’s/region’s mythology you love best?

Gargoyle’s Embrace

Lust trapped them in darkness…only love can free them…

Petra Pedersen has lived as a recluse all her life thanks to a shameful power inherited from the father she will never know. The power to incite lust in men and women with just a touch.

Exploring the garden of the mansion she’s just inherited, she comes across a fascinating stone gargoyle whose raw, passionate expression draws her to caress its powerful body. Her imagination follows her fluttering fingers. As she closes her eyes and gives herself up to the arousal, something shifts beneath her touch.

Long ago, failure to stop a demon battle trapped Octavius in a prison of stone. Freed by the woman’s incendiary touch, he doesn’t hesitate to unleash his pent-up rage and desire in a blistering fury. Yet once the haze of lust clears, he discovers he isn’t really free after all.

They are both trapped in another realm where he must choose between his last chance for redemption or returning Petra home…

Warning: Sex with inanimate objects, lusty m/m/f ménages with gods… It’s all good when the reward is freedom.

Pre-order your copy here!

It will be free to KU subscribers for a limited time!

Read an excerpt…

At the end of the path, she exited the dense, tall foliage into a clearing. A gazebo, its lattices intact but in need of paint, stood against the darkening forest. To her left a stone bench sat next to a large statue. The fading sunlight limned the statue and lent its surface a pearlescent sheen. The figure of a winged gargoyle, its massive body upright, its arms and wings outstretched as though ready to take flight was so exact, so detailed, she couldn’t help but stare. “Oh, my.”

She crept closer. Oddly, the large statue wasn’t supported by a sturdy base. Instead, the feet of the mythical creature were mired in dirt and grass. Vines crept up the thickly hewn calves and thighs, curling around and around. Leaves like ivy and blooms of honeysuckle entangled to clothe his naked body, even twining around the masculine appendage rising between his thighs.

She wondered how such a large statue remained supported by only the two feet planted in the dirt and thought the artist must have been truly gifted to achieve the balance. Entranced, she could only stare in awe at the massive object.

Shadows accentuated the outline of the long muscles cloaking his legs; light sparkled on the bulging, straining curves; veins tracked along arms and thick, leathery-looking wings.

While she stared, she realized there was nothing stopping her from touching it with the bare pads of her fingertips. She’d touched intimately only one masculine body in her life and had learned to her dismay the dangers. But this figure carved in stone couldn’t respond to her curse, and she could indulge her curiosity about his masculine form.

Timidly, she touched his knee, opening her palm over the cap. Surprised, she pulled back her hand. The stone wasn’t cool to the touch. Perhaps it had soaked up the warmth from the sunlight. The surface was so smooth it had felt real, almost pulsating.

The allure of the forbidden was too great to resist, and she pressed her hand against his thigh, trailing it upwards, admiring the sleek, hard muscle. But vines impeded her exploration.

She reached up and took the uppermost strands and peeled them away, one by one, exposing his body to the fading light, unwinding them as she moved around him. “Almost like undressing a man,” she mused whimsically.

When the vines lay in long tendrils on the ground, she stepped between his bent thighs and stared into his face. Here wasn’t the bug-eyed gargoyle she’d expected, but rather he wore a warrior’s fierce grimace, frightening in its intensity.

She smoothed her fingertips over his heavy brow, caressed the sharp blades of his cheekbones and blunt nose, and traced the curve of his thinned upper lip and the surprising fullness of the lower.

“How would such a man’s lips feel beneath mine?” she whispered.

She glanced over her shoulder at the house that seemed farther away than it had when she’d first entered the garden but found no curious glance trained her way through the windows.

She shook her head, her mouth curving slightly. “If Mr. Spalding sees anything, I will tell them it must have been someone else.”

Turning back, she gripped the tops of the figure’s broad shoulders, stood on her toes, and grazed his mouth with hers. The texture of the warm stone was soft, deceptively malleable, but perhaps it was only the give of her own lips as she brushed over his again.

She dropped down, her glance following the flow of her hands as she cupped and molded the densely muscled chest, swept over the hard whorls of hair, marveling over the detail. The abdomen, a study of tautly ribbed slabs, caused her breaths to deepen and her imagination to imbue them with life that rippled gently beneath her caress.

Downward she trailed her hand, halting just above the whorls framing the phallus, and again, she noted the veins tracing along the long shaft, the finely carved cap, so smoothly sanded there wasn’t a single rough edge or bump to mar the surface. Her hand smoothed up, then down, then dropped away. She’d gone too far.

The engorged state of the statue tempted her beyond common sense. Beyond her own natural modesty. Moisture dampened her sex. Her heart fluttered. Her breaths betrayed a ragged texture.

Waning sunlight glimmered through the trees, flashing bright orange, then faded. Darkness settled around the garden, and still there were no lights beaming from the house.

No one could see her in this dark, lonely garden. No one would be disgusted or repulsed by the impulse that burned inside her.

She’d lived alone so long, repressed desires that were natural for a woman, due to the curse that kept her separate from others.

Her touch couldn’t arouse this beast-man, couldn’t incite him to rape. For once, she could pretend she was any other girl, learning the wonder of completion with something other than her own fingers. She could pretend she held a lover inside her embrace, one who wouldn’t be so consumed with lust that her pleasure was forgotten. She could take what she desired to serve her own needs.

Petra stepped backwards and dropped her gaze from his stony, unseeing glance, nevertheless embarrassed by what she contemplated. Just once, she’d heed the urge. Just once, she’d dare something indescribably erotic. Tomorrow, she’d be surrounded by the workers the executor had hired to complete refurbishing the house, and again, she’d hide her true nature within gloves.

She opened her blouse, her fingers gliding down the row of buttons. Her bra opened with a deft twist, and she dropped both items onto the ground beside her. She stepped from her slide-on mules, unbuttoned her jeans and pushed them down her hips.

When she was naked, she succumbed to the urge to cover her breasts as she approached the statue. At the last moment, she reached behind her head and removed the clasp, letting her hair fall like warm silk between her shoulder blades.

The bend of his upper thighs made a convenient perch, and she stepped onto one thigh then slid her left leg around his waist. Holding his shoulders again, she squatted over his cock, finding the nudge of the warmed marble, and circled her pussy over the blunt tip.

The feeling was indescribable. And almost enough to send her over the edge. She did it again, moaning when liquid seeped from inside her to anoint the rigid tip. Growing more breathless, she knew she must slow down, must breathe, must savor this moment because she didn’t know if she’d ever find the courage to try this again.

Wrapping her hands around his thick neck, she leaned toward him, kissing his open lips, sucking on the lower, pretending he was alive and responsive to her overtures. And she sank, slowly, her slick folds consuming his cock, inch by inch, her moisture and warmth heating up the thick phallic stone she rode as she began to move on him.

Her heartbeats quickened, growing louder. “Can you hear them?” she whispered. “Can you hear my heartbeats? How they tremble for you, my gargoyle?”

Petra rose and fell, her body melting inside and out, growing slick with desire and sweat. Her breasts rubbed against his stone chest, chafing softly, her nipples blooming. Her belly undulated, rocking slightly forward and back as she thrust downward, her inner walls stretching to surround him.

He filled her, the notches of his hips and the strength of his shaft supported her as her limbs weakened the closer to release she climbed.

Her eyelids fluttered downward, and her mouth gaped open as fine ripples began to climb along her inner walls, vibrating around his solid cock. And then her mind flew, imagining a pulsing tension emanating from the cock lodged so deeply inside her, imagining that the stone gave slightly as she sank then rocked, shallowly stroking inside her.

It wasn’t until something soft caressed her shoulders and back that she opened her eyes.

The expression of her stone gargoyle was no longer gray and frozen, but dark and taut; his dark eyes stared back at her. The wings were no longer spread, but folded forward, surrounding her in heat and trapping her against his body as he brought her to the ground.

But it was too late to scream because her orgasm erupted, bowing her back, shoving her pelvis hard against her demon lover’s as the rhythmic pulsing swept over her body, causing her to tremble and moan.

With the corners of his lips curving upward, Petra’s heart thudded against her chest. Indeed, her curse was so vile she’d incited lust and awoken a stone god.

UPDATE: The first 7 commenters are all winners!

*~*~*

Sometimes, an erotic romance author has to write a story with a six-person ménage. It’s a rule. I swear. Sometimes, the author doesn’t even know it’s going to happen, and then…boom! It’s there on the page, and there’s just no way she can cut those very naughty words.

Well, love it or not, this is my six-person ménage. And I love Tetrick and Mora, They’re both strong personalities, although she doesn’t realize it until she meets him. And oddly, it’s a sweet story. Go figure.

If you comment below, you might be one of three people who will win a free download of this story. I know you want it, if for no other reason than to see how it works. Keeping track of all those limbs and, um, appendages takes some skillz, y’all. 🙂

Warlord’s Destiny

Mora has no illusions she’s anything other than the sacrificial lamb to ensure peace between her peace-loving planet and the warlike world that demands a royal union with one of their own. However, when she meets the rugged warlord who will be her husband, Mora decides in that moment to win his heart—she’ll settle for nothing less.

When Lord Tetrik suspects his wife harbors tender feelings, he wonders if he can be the husband she desires. After all, love for a woman is a frivolous thing—and not a warlord’s destiny.

Warning: Readers should beware. Wedding customs on other planets do not resemble tender newlywed customs on Earth! Expect a smidge of voyeurism and a 6-person ménage. And yes, Kronaki warlord’s bed is built large enough for just such an event!

From the opening…

So, that’s what Kronaki warriors look like!

Every story ever whispered about the fearsome warriors came rushing back to set Mora’s body trembling. How they fought like ravaging beasts, cutting bloody swaths through Graktilian mercenaries during the war. How they lived in rough, stone fortresses made of blocks carved from their frozen mountains. How they fostered their children to rival clans so they would be raised without gentleness.

How they fucked with such fury their women’s screams echoed throughout their valleys.

Mora felt a tremor rumble beneath the polished, marble floor of the great hall, so explosive was the swell of conversation that arose at the warriors’ arrival.

They were seven, dressed in furs and leather, armed with bows slung across their shoulders and scabbards at their sides.

She couldn’t drag her gaze from the man at the head of their formation, striding toward her—her husband in name, if not yet by deed. Although she had never seen him before this day, she knew it must be him, for he looked the fiercest, the strongest—only one such as he would be chosen to rule from amongst their ranks.

He was from a race of barbarians, seemingly as proud of their reputation for brutal warfare as their orgiastic sexuality. The latter, Mora could well believe for the man stalking her now looked every inch a sensual marauder. Read the rest of this entry »

According to the calendar it is officially spring. The bitter winds have subsided and the snow has begun to melt. Even if  winter is still lingering in my neck of the woods, the hope for warmer days, for daffodils and crocuses is there.

I’m like a bear—once winter comes I want to hibernate. And like the bear, I wake in the spring, look outside my home, and wonder what’s happening in the world. The longer days make me want to go outside and do more instead of scurrying from place to place as fast as I can. Being able to leave the boots, scarf, heavy coat, ear muffs, and gloves behind is a sign that the worst of the winter is behind me. I doubt I’ll get quite to that stage for another month or more, but I’ll be able to start shedding some layers as the days progress.

Opening the window on a warm day and allowing the breeze to freshen the air, not having to turn the lights on until much later in the day, watching the birds come back. These are the things I love most about spring.

It won’t be long until the lawn chairs come out and I can sit out on the patio at night and watch the world go by. I live in an apartment, so I miss that during the winter months.

First we have to get through the dirty stage of spring, where the snow melts to reveal all that’s been buried over the past few months. But clean up will begin, the sun will shine, and the warm days will be welcome.

In the meantime, when the days are still chilly, I’ll curl up with a good book. If you’re looking for something to read, you might check out my Blood of the Drakon series.

Drakon’s Past

Blood of the Drakon, Book 4

Constance Owens has a gift for finding unique items in the most unlikely places, which comes in handy since she buys and sells artifacts and antiques for a living. When she purchases a set of four dragon statues, she has no idea just how unique they are, or that finding them will thrust her into a world of secret societies, men who think nothing of kidnapping and murder to get what they want, and dragon shifters.

Nic hasn’t survived for four thousand years by letting his guard down, and he doesn’t trust anyone except his drakon brothers. The loneliness haunting him has been getting worse since all his brothers have found their mates. And when he finds the woman his drakon recognizes instantly as his fated mate, he doubts he’ll ever have what his brothers have, because it seems she’s involved with the secret society of hunters who have been hunting and capturing his kind for hundreds of years.

Buy Links:
Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0786R7LSM/
Entangled: https://entangledpublishing.com/drakon-s-past.html
B&N: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/drakons-past-nj-walters/1127620047?ean=9781640634695
iBooks: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/drakons-past/id1324091386
Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/drakon-s-past

About the Author

N.J. Walters is a New York Times and USA Today bestselling author who has always been a voracious reader, and now she spends her days writing novels of her own. Vampires, werewolves, dragons, time-travelers, seductive handymen, and next-door neighbors with smoldering good looks—all vie for her attention. It’s a tough life, but someone’s got to live it.

Visit me at:
Website: https://www.njwalters.com
Blog: https://www.njwalters.blogspot.com
Newsletter Group: https://groups.yahoo.com/neo/groups/awakeningdesires/info
Facebook Author Page: https://www.facebook.com/N.J.WaltersAuthor
Twitter: https://twitter.com/njwaltersauthor
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/NJWalters
Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/author/njwalters
BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/n-j-walters