First, I’m going to spill the tea on myself. I published On a Red Horse, the first book in my Paranormal Romance Series titled Revelations, back in 2015. On a Pale Horse, the fourth and final book in the series, just released here in 2021. For a traditional publication this schedule wouldn’t be so uncommon…but for the indie market where readers value quicker turn out from their favorite authors, it’s ages.

I’d like to say I don’t know what happened to make me stall out so hard on OAPH, but I found the last book in the series to hold so much pressure. It started by re-reading the other books and marking them up by category (plot loops I needed to close, random character descriptions I’d forgotten) and by the time I sat down to work on OAPH I sort of froze up. Information overload. Sadly, a common occurrence with ADHD suffering folks like myself.

I’d put so much pressure on finishing the book, on getting it done, that I tricked my brain into thinking it was a much more momentous task than it really turned out to be. Will my readers love the end? Dang I hope so. Will this happen to me again? Probably. Can I overcome it? Absolutely.

We live in unprecedented times right now. No matter where you stand in the world things are not running at your usual normal. So I wanted to take a tiny moment to give you permission to extend yourself some grace. Give yourself a hug, make yourself some tea, and know that when accomplishing something is difficult, take a minute and you’ll figure it out.

And cue segue into talking about OAPH. In this book, Hades (yes that one you are thinking of) wants to move his relationship to the next level with his long-time partner, Death (the horseman of the apocalypse – but she’s a lady). So, against a backdrop of lots of end of the world shenanigans, Hades enlists the help of Death’s (Cloris’s) ex-girlfriend, Persephone. And obviously, sparks fly all around.

See what I did there…I needed to finish my book…Hades needed to finish er…well…anyway.

Here’s a bit of an excerpt for you to try out…

Hades made coffee with shaking hands. They quaked so hard; he had to press them into the cold granite countertop to steady himself. He would have finished it with Cloris last night. He wanted to. He needed her in a way he couldn’t express. And yet, she still held back, still feared hurting him, or that he might equate her with Hel. He swallowed the flash of images that rose to his mind at the thought of Hel’s name and focused intently on making his espresso.

He hadn’t been able to stop the flashbacks, but he was learning to deal with them. A couple years ago, he even started therapy, but not a soul knew that other than his therapist. They’d been working through his imprisonment. Obviously, he’d changed the story for a human audience, and it had been helping. Now he couldn’t figure out how to convince Cloris he was ready for her. And he feared making her wait a thousand years for him had threatened whatever future they might have together.

Moments like this made him want to be human.

People’s reactions to him unsettled him, and Cloris had stopped reacting to him within weeks of them being locked together as horseman and seal. So, he could barely get a read on her in any situation. Hell, she could have stopped wanting him ages ago and simply maintained a façade to avoid conflict. Cloris would fight when it came down to it, but she did not enjoy conflict. If Cloris got involved, it would be to put a stop to whatever was going on.

Charon, the middle-aged, hulking former boatman, shuffled into the kitchen in his bunny slippers, and Hades handed him a mug. “I already made it,” he said, pointing to the pot.

Charon narrowed his eyes at him

“What? I can make coffee,” Hades said in a huff.

The man stood and waited, and when Hades poured the coffee, Char gave a satisfied nod before wandering away. Charon had nowhere to go once the Underworld changed into Hel’s realm. He considered himself a servant of Cloris and Hades, but they never saw him that way. Occasionally, he’d play security at the club since his shoulders were the width of most doorframes and his height unsettled most. Other than that, they left him to his devices, which included Netflix binges of Gilmore Girls and reading Manga.

It was a simple arrangement. Cloris entered the kitchen past Charon and squeezed his arm on the way. She stopped dead in front of Hades and eyed his hand holding the coffeepot.

“Did you make that or did Charon?”

Hades suspected they didn’t like his coffee. “Charon did.”

She raised one perfect eyebrow, calling him out on the lie without a word.

“Fine. I did. What’s wrong with my coffee?”

“Nothing at all, My Love.” She grabbed his mug off the counter and took a sip. “One just needs to brace for impact when drinking it.”

*~*~*

The Revelations Series is now complete and Books One through Three are all on sale until the end of the week. The first book is FREE!

✨ Book One ✨ On a Red Horse ✨
https://amzn.to/2MTzGcZ
Free this week only!

✨Book Two ✨ On a White Horse ✨
https://amzn.to/2MOBP9M
$0.99 this week only!

✨Book Three ✨ On a Black Horse ✨
https://amzn.to/3oCpXG9
$0.99 this week only!

✨Book Four ✨ On a Pale Horse ✨
https://amzn.to/3qcHXqP
BRAND NEW RELEASE!

If you want to keep on top of sales and information you can follow me on Facecbook at https://www.facebook.com/monicacorwin , Instagram at https://www.instagram.com/rosetyper9 , or Twitter at https://www.twitter.com/monica_corwin

Thank you and don’t forget to take a moment to breathe!

Rawhide: Cut the Cards

It’s a card game like you’ve never played before!
Rawhide is back!

Have you been missing the trips to Rawhide, the ultra-exclusive BDSM club on the northwest side of San Antonio, Texas? Well, it’s time for another trip, and this one has a few twists. First of all, the club has a new Dungeon Master. His name is Reulas, and he runs a strict establishment. Nothing is barred as long as you follow the rules. Secondly, he has sanctioned the introduction of a new card game called “Cut the Cards.” Each card pictures some form of BDSM activity. The sub cuts the cards then draws a certain number. Any cards that picture acceptable activities are set to the side; those that are not are replaced in the deck. After the sub has made her/his choices, then the Mistress or Master makes their choices and…the game is on!

Rawhide: Ace in the Hole

Cut the Cards
Kelly LeBlanc was hot and aroused at being selected as part of a demonstration for Rawhide’s members and guests. A card game for sex? What fun! But then she meets the Dom, Tanner Sloat, and finds all her wildest fantasies are about to come true.

Blackjack
He was everything Nia March ever dreamed about in a Master. As he takes her to levels higher than she’s even been, touching something deep inside her, she wonders if she can protect her heart.

Texas Hold ‘Em
Sage Drummond thought she’d never recover from the effects of a relationship filled with cruelty, but she craved the role of sub. When she tentatively dips her toe in the waters at Rawhide, the last thing she expects to find is a Master who will satisfy her needs as well as heal her heart. Can it last?

Dealer’s Choice
Cade Sullivan was one of the most in-demand Doms until a tragedy sent him hiding from the world and out of the D/s life. Working at Rawhide gives Fiona Wilder the urge to try the D/s life. Can she be the key to help Cade forget the past and build a life with a sub that is all his?

Two of a Kind
They each bring their baggage to a night at Rawhide that is supposed to be nothing but fun—a night of intense D/s play. Neither is prepared for the intense connection they make or how it will change their lives.

Get your copy of Rawhide: Ace in the Hole here!

And a snippet from Cut the Cards…

Tanner Sloat was everything subs imagined Doms to be, power flowing from his body. It was hard to ignore the bulge at his crotch, and it had cream flooding the tiny crotch of her thong at the sight of it. Her nipples hardened, poking into the soft material of her halter. At once, she imagined herself on her knees in front of him, his cock on her tongue, her hands squeezing his balls. Would he spank her if he thought her performance lacking?

Oh, yes! Please!

She was instantly even more wet and needy, and he hadn’t even said hello to her yet.

When she looked up at Tanner, a tiny knowing smile flirted with the corners of his mouth and sexual hunger flared in his eyes. He raked his gaze over her slowly, taking in every inch of her. Now she knew what the phrase “undressing someone with his eyes” meant, because that was exactly how she felt. At that moment, if he’d told her to strip naked, get down on her hands and knees, and let him fuck her ass, she’d have done it without a moment’s hesitation.

Holy shit!

She swallowed and curved her mouth in a smile. “Welcome to Rawhide.”

He dipped his head once. “I can see you’re everything Reulas said you were.”

And exactly what was that?

“Tanner is just back from a tour of duty as a member of a Delta Force team,” Reulas explained.

Ooo-kay. So that explained the ripped body. She wondered if he had any interesting scars. Without realizing it, Kelly licked her lips.

“I picked up a little game while I was in…a different country,” Tanner said. “When I mentioned it to Reulas, it interested him. He suggested giving a little presentation to the members.” His eyes looked her over again. “From everything he told me, I thought you would be an excellent choice for a game partner. You enjoy exhibitionism, right?”

Did a bank have money? Heat sizzled through her at the idea of performing before this crowd with this highly sexual man.

“I do,” she answered. “Can you tell me what the game is about?”

He held out a deck of cards. “Take a look at these. The idea is each partner goes through the deck and removes any position or activity that they absolutely will not do. Then they go through them one at a time.”

“Of course, no one expects to complete the entire selection in one session,” Reulas added. “So each partner picks his or her top three and then they begin.”

Kelly cocked an eyebrow at him. “Your email sounded intriguing, and everyone is always looking for something new. I’m sure that’s why there’s such a big crowd tonight.”

Reulas nodded. “If I’d told them you were going to be part of the performance, we’d have been so crowded the fire marshal might have shut us down.”

“Reulas tells me you are a particular favorite.” Tanner’s voice rolled over her nerves like the electric wand she loved so much, sending sparks along the surface of her skin.

“He’s very kind. But I do my best to please.”

“As a good sub should.” He gave her a penetrating look that pierced all the way to her pussy. Her inner walls clenched, and she had to resist the urge to squeeze her thighs together.

“Why don’t the two of you step into the little alcove over there?” Reulas pointed. “You can select your cards. When you’re ready, I’ll get everyone’s attention and announce the beginning of the performance.”

*~*~*

Where else can you find me:
www.facebook.com/desireeholtauthor
www.facebook.com/desiree01holt
Twitter @desireeholt
Follow me on
BookBub https://www.bookbub.com/search?search=Desiree+Holt
Amazon https://www.amazon.com/Desiree- Holt/e/B003LD2Q3M/ref=sr_tc_2_0?qid=1505488204&sr=1-2-ent

Signup for my newsletter and receive a free book:
https://desireeholt.com/newsletter/

I’ll be the first to admit that 2020 was not my best year. Like most of you, I’m sure, I had high expectations at the outset. After all, I’d successfully retired early, successfully downsized in a remarkably efficient fashion to a large truck and suitable 5^th wheel camper with my DH (Darling Husband).

Our anticipation of the next stage of our adventure was full of promise. We had lived and traveled for five years, marking off all the sites and escapades of the journey on our combined bucket list. We enjoyed volunteering, being outside, open campfire cooking, the life of carefree non-attachment, living as close to “off the grid” as we were comfortable with at the time.

But of course, all good things come to an end. I felt the need to settle down and take writing seriously once again. Around about Labor Day of 2019, my DH and I decided to settle down and purchase and brick and stick house. He chose Alabama. Specifically, northern Alabama, the foothills of the Appalachian Mountains.

I found the area to be not only beautiful but the scenic hiking trails spectacular. The residents here are warm, friendly, and welcoming. Our search for a house went well, even if we were outbid on several fronts as the home sellers’ market was hot when we arrived. It has long been my belief that these things work themselves out exactly as they should.

After three months, we purchased a few acres including the original farm homestead. The home had been lovingly refurbished, restored, and offered everything we were looking for. Plenty of space for our families to visit, an open layout for entertaining, and in a small town with a terrific community.

I made myself at home, made a few friends, joined a club or two, and began to settle in at the homestead.

Interesting that several of my new acquaintances, one of them my close neighbor, one of them the relative of the original homestead family, told me a story about a man who had drowned in the nearby lake.

The lake is man-made, extremely deep, and very cold. A beautiful spot for kayaking—one of my favorite pastimes. In fact, I became involved with a group of women who routinely went kayaking and then socialized over a shared lunch. This activity became a godsend as the pandemic forced many into isolation.

While learning about one another I shared with the group my story of growing up in a haunted house. And that sharing brought out stories of locals who had died by drowning in the lake.

Now if you’re wondering if the haunted house found me, well…it did.

My first night in the house, which was built more than 100 years ago, the lights in the kitchen came on by themselves. I saw the lights power on through our open bedroom door and ran to see if someone was in the kitchen.

No.

My DH had been sound asleep beside me, and no, I did not get him up as I thought it was merely bad wiring in an old house. Yes, we’d had an inspection, but it is possible to miss some things.

I turned off the lights and went back to bed.

Several nights later, the lights again awoke me after midnight. The following weeks I lived with dresser and cabinet drawers opening without reason. Returning to the house after a few hours away, the house often greeted us with misplaced items: keys, groceries, and personal items.

But none of this bothered me. I’d grown up in a haunted house, remember?

Then one day my neighbor stopped to chat, and as we sat visiting, simply passing the time of day, he shared the story of his uncle who had lived in the house when the lake was first made.

He told me his mother never believed the uncle, who had been visiting with his estranged wife attempting a reconciliation, would’ve left without telling her. He said how his mother refused to empty his closet or store his personal things since she knew in her heart he would return.

Well, he did return. To the original homestead house, sold twice over, where I now live.

My ghost is like an old family friend. He’s a quiet spirit, mostly well behaved, and genuinely polite. A spirit with a sense of humor.

When my DH acquired two feist puppies from a local friend, my ghost determined to help me train them.

I have to tell you it creeps me out to see the puppies run across the field and suddenly stop, sit and hold their paws up for obvious shaking. Then they lay on their backs to get tummy rubs before they bounce back and resume the run across the field. Weird.

About the Author

Born and raised in southeastern Pennsylvania and seasoned in west Texas, Ane traveled with her husband and enjoyed writing from wherever they roamed. Currently writing from Arely, Alabama, she is working on a Regency series Talk of the Ton, including three stories. There’s a New Earl in Town, a secret baby story, The Trouble with Harry, a woman disguised as a man to support her family whose employer falls in love with her, and Mismanaging the Marquess, about a widow who falls in love with the man who killed her husband.

UDPATE: The winner is…Linda Richter!
*~*~*

©Diana Cosby 2021

Happy New Year!  I hope you had a wonderful holiday season.  I love writing, and continually find inspiration from nature.

I’m amazed at the huge variety of wildlife where I live, and I look forward to seeing what nature photos I can take on my walks.

Every so often, I’m able to get close-up photos of hawks, birds, and other animals.  Being only a few feet away from wildlife is an amazing feeling.

Seeing and photographing wildlife is a relaxing pastime, one that refills my muse.

With the celebration of the new year, I look forward to what wildlife I’ll come across next.  What wildlife do you like to see?

Contest

***ONE winner will be drawn from everyone who posts on my guest blog post about, ‘Inspiration From Nature – Wildlife,’ on Delilah’s blog between 3 January 2021– 10 January 2021.  The winner will receive a signed copy of His Destiny, book #4 in the bestselling The MacGruder Brothers Series.

About the Author

A retired Navy Chief, Diana Cosby is an international bestselling author of Scottish medieval romantic suspense. Books in her award-winning MacGruder Brothers series have been translated into five languages. Diana has spoken at the Library of Congress, Lady Jane’s Salon in NYC, and appeared in Woman’s Day, on USA Today’s romance blog, “Happy Ever After,” MSN.com, Atlantic County Women Magazine, and Texoma Living Magazine.

After her career in the Navy, Diana dove into her passion – writing romance novels. With 34 moves behind her, she was anxious to create characters who reflected the amazing cultures and people she’s met throughout the world. After the release of the bestselling MacGruder Brothers series and The Oath Trilogy, she released the bestselling The Forbidden Series.

Diana looks forward to the years of writing ahead and meeting the amazing people who will share this journey.

Diana Cosby, International Best-Selling Author
www.dianacosby.com
The Oath Trilogy
MacGruder Brother Series
The Forbidden Series

UPDATE: The winner is…Colleen C!
*~*~*

Nearly twenty years ago, a white doe roamed the forests south of Raleigh, NC.  A true albino, the deer was a ghost bounding through the trees. She walked the miles around the protected lake, the pride and joy of the town in which she wandered.

But life is never safe. Humans paved roads, mowed down trees for houses, and children filled the air with their screams and squeals. One night the white deer tried to cross the road but never made it with her two babies.

This doe had been named the town mascot. As such it was a beloved member of the community. The town raised funds to stuff and eventually house the deer. Before a permanent home could be built, it was located in the local high school and the North Carolina Museum of Natural Sciences.

In time, the deer returned to her natural habitat. But she still wasn’t safe. Vandals burned the structure and the deer’s body. Once again the town raised funds to repair the stuffed animal and eventually it found a home at the Nature Center in White Deer Park.

When my family bought our current house, we were told the tale of the White Deer. She became the inspiration for my Capricorn character in my final Zodiac Shifters story. There aren’t many myths surrounding red-tailed deer, but the White Stag is one of the most well-known.

Whether he is a part of the Fae’s Wild Hunt, the Guardian Protector of the forest, or a messenger of the Gods, the White Stag is very powerful. But what happens when humans cheat and use magic to hunt? Will the stag be able to outrun them, even injured? Find out in Sundered, the third and final story in my Willows Haven series.

Sundered

For years, reluctant earth witch Daphne Lowe has feared the strength of her powers. When she loses control, people are harmed. She already ruined Deputy Sheriff Stanford Morgan’s life once, when their relationship ignited his dormant magical powers and turned him into the legendary white stag. Getting involved with him again would just hurt him more. She has to ignore her feelings for him, and hope that someday he’ll stop loving her too.

Except the paranormal sanctuary of Willows Haven needs Daphne and Stanford together—she must anchor the town’s mythical willow trees, and he serves as guardian. Only then will the town’s supernatural residents be safe from the outside world. Trapped together by a snowstorm, Daphne and Stanford have a second chance at happiness if they can resolve their past issues.

When a dark witch invades the town, a final test of their commitment emerges. To succeed, they’ll have to truly trust in each other and embrace the power of their love.

Can a second chance at love survive vengeance from the past?

Book Landing Page: https://bethcaudill.net/books/zodiac-shifters-willows-haven/sundered/
Amazon US – https://www.amazon.com/dp/B08Q4GW2ZT
iBooks – https://books.apple.com/us/book/sundered/id1544021765
Barnes and Noble – https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/sundered-beth-caudill/1138441189?ean=2940162910534
Kobo – https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/sundered-7
Google – https://play.google.com/store/books/details/Beth_Caudill_Sundered?id=f3ANEAAAQBAJ

A print version will be available in the new year.

Giveaway

For a chance to win a $5 Amazon gift card, leave a comment telling me your favorite character from Disney’s Bambi.

About the Author

Although Beth grew up in West Virginia, she currently resides in North Carolina with her husband, two sons and a Cavalier King Charles Spaniel who makes an excellent lap warmer. Blending the analytical and creative sides of her brain, she delights in creating fantasy worlds for others. She loves fairy tales, fantastical creatures, and stuffed animals.

Author Website: https://BethCaudill.net/
Author Newsletter: https://eepurl.com/cEp6b1
Author Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/AuthorBethCaudill
Author Pinterest: https://pinterest.com/bethcaudill13/
Author Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/bethcaudill13/
Author Twitter: https://www.twitter.com/beth_caudill/
Author Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/bethcaudill
Amazon Author Page: https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B00538IWEU
Bookbub Author Page: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/beth-caudill

Hi Delilah Fans!

The holiday season is always a time for raw nerves and overwrought emotions. I for one am susceptible to depression, that kind of misery that makes you want to never leave your bedroom. Maybe it’s natural that when the days are their shortest, our energy levels will sink as well. The weather is cold (for most of us), the nights last forever, and our culture’s coping skills involve spending money we can’t afford.

Over the years, I’ve found relatively inexpensive ways to celebrate the season without going to great expense. One year I solicited donations from a few friends to purchase and have delivered a new range for a neighbor with six kids and no functional oven. Other years I baked cookies and candies to share with neighbors and friends. I always try to send out Christmas cards with a short note updating friends about my past year.

This year, besides a joyful week with all three adult kids at home, cookies for neighbors, Zooming with siblings and their kids, and a nice meal for my 97-year old mom, what I’m giving you are some free stories to snuggle up with. Some are naughtier than others, but among them, I hope you find something that makes your day a little brighter. Here’s the line-up:

 

Holiday Journey: Follow the chance encounter of two travelers stranded in an airport just before Christmas. The attraction is instantaneous but even though he’s willing, she’s wary. Novelette Make it yours at https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/675289, set your own price.

Christmas Hideaway:  Caryn hadn’t expected a snowstorm when she hid away in a remote cabin to lick her wounds. She also hadn’t expected an overbearing park ranger to confront her. But the snow kept falling and the temperature kept dropping, trapping her at his cabin. What could possibly go wrong? Novella Make it yours at https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/685194, set your own price.

A Taste of Love: Senna and Teutonius, both enslaved Celts serving their Roman masters at a remote encampment in occupied Britain, manage to exchange warm greetings amid holiday duties. Short Story Make it yours at https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/759904.

His Only Love: An enslaved Greek, hopelessly in love with the Roman commander, finds a moment of pleasure with a slave of his own before facing the wrath of his beloved. [Explicit gay sex, BDSM.] Novelette Make it yours at https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/759899.

A Gift for Jarrod: A young man enters a training academy for submissives, anxious to understand his unusual desires. His Christmas couldn’t be more wonderfully unexpected. [Explicit BDSM] Novella  Make it yours at https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/383857.

AND A HAPPY NEW YEAR!

Lizzie Ashworth

With all that has been happening this year, I think everyone can use a little holiday cheer. If you’re interested in what it’s like to experience Christmas in the bayou (a.k.a., Louisiana) or missed my last week’s post, check out Papa Noël: Who Dat? Find out if you’re on the naughty or nice list and meet the gators.

Over my many years and dozens of Christmas parties, I’ve seen (and participated in) countless traditions. However, the one that I’ve heard and read about the most is one that I have never seen in practice—that is, kissing under the mistletoe. A couple of years ago was the first time I saw mistletoe in person. Well, kinda. See, I’d seen it before, but I didn’t know what it was. Turns out, there was plenty that I did not know about mistletoe. This was brought to the forefront when I began writing my short story “Valentine Mistletoe“ (published In Holiday Heartbreaker’s Cupid’s Bow Anthology), which is a holiday story with a twist. Since this is the season, I thought it would be fun to post some mistletoe trivia facts, and there’s no better place to start than the beginning…

• The name “mistletoe” originates from the combination of two Anglo Saxon words—mistle and tan. The word mistle means a stick or a twig, while the word tan means—hold onto your socks—dung. That’s correct. Dung, as in poop, manure, excrement, caca. So, literally, mistletoe means poop on a stick. Now, that image doesn’t make me feel all warm and romantic, much less like kissing. Let’s move on, although, what I have to say next isn’t that much better.
• Mistletoe is a flowering (or angiosperm) and parasitic plant. It is unable to live on its own and requires attaching itself, via a haustorium, to a host tree or shrub to feed off (extract carbon, nutrients, and water) in order for survival. For this reason, it does not grow on the ground and cannot be grown in a planter. Technically speaking, mistletoe can attach itself to any tree, however, it most commonly grows on apple, oak, and willow trees. I guess, one could say mistletoe has a preference.
• Being parasitic makes mistletoe highly resilient because it does not have to compete with other rooted plants in soil for water or other necessary nutrients. This is also an adaptive quality, as mistletoe originated in the tropics, a place where, in general, the soil is filled with microorganisms but is poor in nutrition. Additionally, few birds eat mistletoe due to the color of the berries. Actually, most animals shy away from eating the berries as they can be poisonous in large amounts.
• More than 1,500 species of mistletoe exist. However, what most people are likely familiar with is the European mistletoe known as Viscum album.
• Another fact about mistletoe is that it has a gender. Yes, there are male and female mistletoes. Female mistletoe is what most people hang in their homes, as this is the one that has berries. Now, if I was less of a person and really tacky, I would point out the irony that the female mistletoe has balls and the male mistletoe does not. 🙂
• Finally, mistletoe won’t kickstart the allergies since it has no discernible scent. I know, someone is going to tell me they know someone who is allergic to it—you know, because there always is that one person. Actually, that probably would make for a comedic scene breaking into a fit of sneezing beneath the mistletoe instead of becoming all starry-eyed or transforming into a blithering ball of awkwardness…

So, why would anyone from a kissing tradition under parasitic, poisonous poop on a stick? Read the rest of this entry »