Cover Reveal: Go Ahead, Make My Bouquet by Misty Simon


GoAheadMakeMyBouquet_w9818_medMy new cover! This series – that started with What’s Life Without the Sprinkles? now has a series title! Woot! Look for Kissinger Kisses on the cover from now on. This is the third book in the series and I adore this cover and especially that baby! She’s about to bring some trouble down on Dexter Zegray and Zoe Bradley. Release day is May 22, 2015 and can’t come soon enough!


Blurb: Dexter Zegray is up to his eyeballs in diapers and formula. That’s what happens when a baby that isn’t even his gets dropped off on his doorstep and his teenage brother – the father – decides to run off to “figure stuff out.” Dex wishes he could run away, too, but that’s not an option.

Zoe Bradley has for months successfully avoided getting caught in the Casanova trap that is Dex Zegray. But when he comes into Decadence with baby in tow, asking for help, she can’t resist the little girl or the man who might just be more than the philanderer name tag she’s assigned him.

Dex needs a nanny, and Zoe’s the only one with the time to do it. But will forced togetherness open Zoe’s eyes to his true charms? And why does it have to be precisely when he’s unavailable?

Super Release Day! Something Old Something Dead


SomethingOldSomethingDead_w9326_medHey there! Today is super release day (super re-release day technically) for the third Ivy Morris Mystery! At it’s half off! Enjoy :)

Ivy Morris never thought she’d be walking her new stepmother down the aisle to her father. Not a flawless event, because, really, when is anything in Ivy’s life flawless? At least she avoids tripping. It’s the reception that has the flaw.  The wedding singer nearly chokes to death on a glass of water, and then Ivy’s sister finds something unexpected in the parking lot.

And that’s not all. Something odd is going on in the sleepy little town of Martha’s Point — for some reason, no female under the age of fifty can keep her hands off Ivy’s boyfriend. Ivy’s little shop enjoys a tremendous increase in business as those women keep running in to buy more new sexy lingerie, but her heart is anything but happy.

What will it take to solve these mysteries? Is Ivy up to it? Well, she’s about to find out.

Alien Transformations Over Breakfast by Anson Barber


1If you’ve ever had the opportunity to dine with a writer, you might understand what an interesting, strange and sometimes gruesome experience it can be.
For a normal person (aka; a non-writer) a conversation regarding children, medical ailments or even a smidge of gossip is taken for just that; conversation. But to a writer those words start twisting and turning, and sometimes weave their way to become a story.
For example a very rational discussion regarding a woman’s difficulty in getting pregnant, turned into the possibility of an ancient curse of fertility against the family when I was done with it. My dining companion had no choice but to be pulled into the craziness as I perpetuated the theory into a full-fledged outline.
Once the trickle of thought turns into a raging river of story-telling there is no way to stop it. You just have to eat your salad and wait it out.
I tend to wake up with new stories in my head, which was the case for my newest book, Outer Banks. It happened on a weekend which meant my husband was there to listen to the facts of the alien attack, and how some humans were transformed. I spared no detail on how I thought this might be accomplished until he held up a hand in surrender, pointed to his half-eaten breakfast and said, “I’m trying to eat here.”
Undeterred, I went off to the office to start writing.
A word of warning, this condition is exacerbated when you get multiple authors together for lunch.
So if you’re ever sitting in a restaurant and you overhear the people in the booth next to you start discussing the downsides of sending someone off with agents to Israel versus New Hampshire, or if the phrase, “There are only so many ways you can kill someone,” is uttered, this isn’t necessarily cause for alarm.
You could be sitting next to a table of authors. And if you listen closely, you just might have the honor of hearing a story being born.

It is Dillon McAllister’s grim duty to track down alien-infected humans—aka “Haunts”—and quarantine them on the Outer Banks for their protection. Though his job disgusts him, he manages to continue knowing if he can get to them before the other hunters, at least they’ll be treated with respect.
But now he has a new client with a different mission: to retrieve a pharmaceutical executive’s daughter from confinement at the Outer Banks, because she may hold the key to a cure.
Dr. Emery Mitchell hates what she’s become, but she knows she may be the only hope for three hundred thousand detainees isolated on the North Carolina barrier islands—including herself.
Dillon is the only man who seems to be able to see the woman behind the black eyes and cool skin, and as she slowly begins to trust him, she’s forced to see herself as he sees her. A human woman with a human heart.
As society slowly unravels, the pressure is on to find a cure—before the hate groups calling for eradication can no longer be drowned out.

The phone woke me. I closed my eyes tighter, trying to block it out. It was no use.
Ring. Ring. The shrillness was obnoxious. I had to make it stop. I shifted in the stiff, uncomfortable bed and reached out to answer it.
“Hello?” I said, my voice rough with interrupted sleep.
“This is your wakeup call, Mr. McAllister. It’s five—” The pleasant voice paused. “—p.m.,” she clarified.
“Yes. Thank you.” I hung up, not needing the details. I knew how crazy it was to get a wakeup call in the evening.
I sat on the edge of the lumpy mattress and blinked while I tried to remember where I was. I made my way to the room’s wobbly table and picked up the file.
I was in Louisiana. Amite, Louisiana to be more exact. I was investigating reports of a young boy sneaking around a butcher shop at night.
I opened the thick curtain and looked out into the parking lot. Trucks were passing by on the interstate. The Bob Evans across the street was filling up with the early dinner crowd.
The pavement was wet. It had rained at some point. The last of the day’s sun glimmered in the puddles as I closed the curtains.
I dragged myself to the bathroom and turned on the shower as I scanned my face in the mirror. I needed a shave, but I just didn’t feel like it. Instead, I slapped my cheeks lightly and took off my shorts before stepping under the intense stream of water.
It felt like a pressure washer. I adjusted the nozzle so the water wouldn’t shred my skin, and began washing myself.
As I looked up at the ceiling tiles, darkened from past water damage, I thought of how routine this moment was, when only a year ago it seemed life would never be this way again.

Last March, They came.
It bordered on cliché the way they arrived. Just like every space alien movie ever written.
Their immense, matte black ships appeared out of nowhere in the middle of the afternoon. They hovered like large mechanical jellyfish above the most populated centers on earth. Their long tentacles lit randomly, pulsing. Silent.
They sat there for hours. No movement. No activity in the sky, while down here on Earth everyone went into a panic.
It was all the things you would expect to see when the end of the world seemed inevitable—looting, suicide, mass religious gatherings. Then the military got involved. Hoards of tanks, missiles and soldiers were deployed to protect us from the unknown invaders.
Just seeing their ships on TV told me we were goners. They had the ability to suspend a city-sized craft in the air for hours with no sound and no emissions. That in itself confirmed they were far more advanced than us.
Technologically speaking, of course.
I knew a thing or two about technology. On a rudimentary level anyway. I was a mechanic. Vehicle restoration and repair. Or at least I had been until that day.
When night fell, the ships finally moved.
Closer to Earth, they opened the tentacles and unleashed wave after wave of what we now refer to as “Bugs”, regardless of what Latin-based foot long word the scientists gave them. But these weren’t like any insects we had on Earth.
They stood on four long legs, taller than a human. Their other two legs—more like arms—were used to grip onto their human prey and pull them into their waiting fangs.
These things were everything your darkest imagination could conjure up. Shiny black scales covered their exterior, healing over immediately when shot. Even if the soldiers had a chance to shoot past a human victim—which they always seemed to have in their grasp—the insect was left unharmed.
Their fangs penetrated the jugular veins and drank the human, while two pincers in their abdomen held them in place.
They disposed of the drained carcasses into shallow holes they punched into the ground, or cement or pavement—whatever they happened to be standing on. Their back feet could cut through almost any surface effortlessly.
Their red eyes were constantly in motion, searching out their next victim.
It didn’t take long to realize we didn’t stand a chance.

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Books: Susan Gourley!


Insecure_Cover[2]A Writer’s Guide

One should never embark on a career as a writer without understanding the challenges he or she will face. Perhaps the biggest is keeping at it day after day after month after year. Most writers think about quitting and some even do for a while before their need to be creative drives them back. If a writer is fortunate, they have friends to help them over the rough spots or perhaps a local writers’ group. More of us have formed bonds with other writers in online communities. The best online group I’ve ever hitched my career to is the Insecure Writer’s Support Group.


This IWSG has a blog hop on the first Wednesday every month where writers share their woes, insecurities and also offer encouragement and advice. This group is more than three years old and the brainchild of super blogger and bestselling science fiction author, Alex J. Cavanaugh. Sometimes the posts are emotional outpourings to others who understand the challenges of writing. Writers share advice on everything from marketing to technical support. The participants range from new writers with only a few pages under their belt to multi-published novelists.


The support and expertise found in this group is impossible to describe, but now you can share in it for free. Alex and the administrators, including me, who’ve joined him to keep the group thriving have gathered offerings from the blogging members of IWSG and put it together into a book. In it you will find everything from inspirational essays to detailed instructions on marketing, formatting, the use of social media and almost any other aspect of the business you could think of. And the best part is the price. It’s free! And when you read an article by someone who really speaks to your needs, you can follow the link to their particular blog or perhaps a link to the information they’re sharing. Here’s the blurb.


The Insecure Writer’s Support Group Guide to Publishing and Beyond!


Tapping into the expertise of over a hundred talented authors from around the globe, The IWSG Guide to Publishing and Beyond contains something for every writer. Whether you are starting out and need tips on the craft of writing, looking for encouragement as an already established author, taking the plunge into self-publishing, or seeking innovative ways to market and promote your work, this guide is a useful tool. Compiled into three key areas, writing, publishing, and marketing, this valuable resource offers inspirational articles, helpful anecdotes, and excellent advice on dos and don’ts that we all wish we knew when we first started out on this writing journey.






As a writer, I don’t think I’ve ever been prouder to be a part of something as I am about this book. With Alex as our leader, the rest of our group worked many hours editing and evaluating the contributions. Anyone can be part of the IWSG and join in the monthly blog hop. It will bring lots of traffic to your blog and everyone will learn something every month. Thanks, Misty and Vicky, for having me here today.


Susan Gourley is the author of 2 epic fantasy series and a bestselling author of science fiction romance that she writes as Susan Kelley.

Find her at Susan Says

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Books: Berengaria Brown!


Berengaria Brown’s “The Bath House Boys.

Remember the Paint Store Boys? And Pinky’s Gay Bar?

Well now The Bath House Boys are here! Each story is a complete MM romance in itself, but the various characters reappear throughout the series, giving the reader glimpses of whose story is coming later and of previous heroes living their happy ever after.


bb-tbhb-kissinghisman-fullBook 1 “Kissing His Man”

Frank Ashman’s lover left him seven months, three weeks, four days, two hours and twenty-eight minutes ago. At Pinky’s gay bar the server shows him a brochure featuring the facilities of a new gay bath house that’s just opened in town. There he meets Ralph Sellars. They explore the delights of the bath house together. There are the rainforest showers, the hot tubs, the sauna, the swimming pool, and the restaurant, not to mention the freedom brought by the lack of clothing on the members there. Oh yes, and the bedrooms upstairs, each one complete with a drawer full of toys.

But both Ralph and Frank are burdened with baggage from the past. Can they move on and make a new future together? Or is their relationship doomed to be just sex in the bath house instead of a genuine future together outside in the world?


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Not being used to saunas, Ralph stayed on the lowest step, working on the idea that hot air rises, so it’d be coolest lower down. The redhead, however, was sitting on the top row, leaning his back against the wooden wall.

“Wasn’t the pool warm enough for you?” he asked, wanting to get to know this interesting man.

“Hell, no. I mean, it’s heated. It’s warm, but I think I’ll like it better after a sauna when I want to cool down. Now this heat, this is delicious. This I like.”

“I do, too. Of course, in another five minutes I might have changed my mind.”

The other man laughed. “Yeah, me, too. I’m Francis, Frank.”

“Ralph. What do you do for a living, Frank?”

“I’m a town planner. What about you?”

For the first time ever he told a stranger what he really did, not the politically correct, politely spun version of his job. “I’m the bogeyman. I expose insurance frauds.”

“I don’t see that makes you the bogeyman. If people weren’t lying and cheating already they wouldn’t have any reason to fear you.”

Ralph laughed. “I think you’re the first person ever to see it that way. Most people think the rules are there to be broken. They see the extremely rich finding ways to avoid paying tax and think insurance premiums mean the money belongs to them and that the comparatively small amounts they steal are fair game. But I don’t chase people for ten cents. I chase them for thousands of dollars. And that includes the wealthy as well.”

Ralph stretched out on the step so he could see Frank’s face better. They began talking about their likes and dislikes, and when the buzzer rang to say their fifteen minutes in the sauna was up, Ralph was really surprised. He didn’t feel too hot, and he sure as hell wasn’t ready to stop talking to Frank.

“I suppose we’d better have a swim to cool down,” he said reluctantly.

Frank joined him on the floor of the sauna. “After that, let’s come back here. I was enjoying our time together.”

Ralph gripped the smaller man’s arms and pressed a kiss to his lips. “I was, too.” He stepped back and opened the door. Damn, the man had tasted nice. His lips were soft and sweet and just the tiniest bit sweaty and salty. I want more of him. Tonight.


bb-tbhb-welcominghisman-full“Welcoming His Man”, The Bath House Boys 2, is available for pre-order and will release on Saturday, November 8th

This title is offered at a 10% discount. Offer ends midnight CST, November 15th

Blurb: In the small town where he grew up, Jethro Wraight was persecuted, harassed, and traumatized because of his sexual orientation. Now living far away from where he grew up, Jethro’s only just starting to learn that it’s okay to be gay. Jethro goes to the gay bath house and meets Bart Moreton there. Bart still lives at home with his parents, even though his dad keeps telling him to get a real job, because he’s determined to become an artist. His work is good, and sells well at craft markets, but he doesn’t make enough money to survive on alone as yet.

Jethro’s never had a boyfriend before, but the two men instantly form a bond. Jethro is taking his very first steps in displaying affection openly. Bart’s focused on becoming an artist. The immediate friendship between them surprises them both.


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Berengaria Brown

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Books: Houston Havens!


HOSUTON HAVENS-PHANTOM DESIRE_KDP_COVERA multi-genre story:Erotic Romance, Ménage (MFMM), Paranormal, Fantasy, Futuristic, Suspense, Dystopian, Post-Apocalyptic, Sci-Fi, Light BDSM, and Psychics.


Release Date: Sept 1, 2014

ISBN: 978-1500952563


Buy Links:


Amazon Print

Createspace Print


Published with:H.A.W.K. PUBLISHING –


Mind traveler Chandra Lamar is on the run, not only from her post-catastrophic dystopian government but from a past she can’t remember. A psychic vision pushes her to recall her purpose for being, but it’s a ghost that awakens her desires for a life she fears she’ll never have. Both push her to remember the past because it threatens what she wants in the now; the Nodin men.


Andonis Nodin battles to accept his failures. The heavy burden nearly breaks him when he can’t save a loved one from the grim reaper’s grip and questions his desire for Chandra, the woman he blames for the death around him.


Nikias finds true love with Chandra in his arms, but is desperate to stop her from seeking revenge on a mission he knows is a one way trip.


Ortello knows for them to recapture the love they once felt for each other, he must be willing to let her go. But overcoming his obsession to make Chandra his and his alone isn’t easy.


Will Chandra go through with the vengeance in her heart or give it up for love? Who is the powerful woman in her haunting visions and will those revealing apparitions crumble her world with the Nodin clan? Does Chandra find true love in the arms of the Nodin men or does her Phantom Desire forever own her heart?



“Like I said, release me.”

His bottom lip pressed up forcing the corners down as he shook his head. “Sorry. I’m not of mind to do that.”

“What?” she shrieked. Was she wrong or was that sparkle dancing in his eyes delight?

“You’re mine.” A cheeky smirk sliced across his face. “Like it or not.”

Betrayed, Chandra clinched her fist, shaking it at Andonis’ retreating back as he fled to open the door. “Bullshit! Pure bullshit!” She screamed flying off the bed as he stepped out of the room. The minute she grabbed the candlestick holder from the nightstand, he drew the door to within an inch of closing. It was clear he’d guessed her intensions and sought to protect his head from any flying objects coming his way.

“You’re not going, Chandra,” he said from behind the door. “Final word as your husband.”




Nikias stood in the hall listening to all the commotion. He backed up at his brother’s quick exit from the room. A loud thump and then a crash splattered against the closed door. Andonis looked at him with a devilish twinkle in his eye. “Do you think she’s angry with me?”

He felt his brow pull up in amusement. “Just a little. She’ll be even angrier when she finds out you lied about the common-law thing.” He pressed his brow into a tight pinch.

Andonis moved like lightning down the hall.

“Where are you escaping to?” Nikias followed him to the foyer. He watched as Andonis grabbed a shirt and slipped it on while stepping out the front door.

“To have a word with Logan. Keep her busy until I get back.”

“Andonis! Please don’t do this.” He threw his hands up in a pleading gesture. “Don’t leave me with an angry woman who’s seven inches taller than me.”

“You’ll be fine.” He vanished around the corner of the house.

Houston HavensBio:

Houston Havens retired from a successful modeling career and an adventurous jet-set lifestyle to set the world on fire with her erotic romance books. A tenacious Irish lass, she strives to entertain with seductive stories created from her decadent imagination and traces of a provocative lifestyle she may or may not admit to.


Her interest in the paranormal, fascination with quantum science, passion with myths, and the lure of her mysterious Celtic Irish-Druid bloodlines are combined with generally unknown truths, strange facts, and questionable fiction. Her novels reflect a mix of the past, present, and future, with sexy blends of futuristic science fiction, paranormal fantasy, western romance, and always love everlasting. An author of six romances, a seven book erotic romance series and numerous articles in literary magazines.


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Books: Ashley Ladd!


spookysojourn_800Title: Spooky Sojourn

Series Name (If applicable) N/A

Publisher: Totally Bound

Genre: Contemporary Erotic male-female paranormal romance

Book Length: 50,000 words

Official book summary:


Official Blurb:

Someone’s trying to kill Deanna, but is it the ghosts she doesn’t believe in, the rich socialite who might be a murderess, or someone else with a beef against The Gilroy Hotel and Resort that Deanna has just been hired to manage? The Gilroy’s owners want the ghosts, or whoever is causing the trouble at the hotel eliminated, and they are pressuring Deanna to do the job as quickly as possible. Harry DeVeaux, paranormal investigator comes highly recommended to do the job and against Deanna’s better judgment, she hires him.


Although Deanna thinks Harry’s crazy for believing in ghosts and Harry thinks Deanna has a closed mind to the possibilities of ghosts and they highly annoy each other, sparks fly. Deanna can’t help but fantasize about Harry and inspired by a romance convention visiting her hotel, writes her fantasies in a private blog that Harry finds, hacks, and reads. Ooh la la!



Drawing in a long, shuddering breath, he look heavenwards and crossed his fingers behind his back hoping she wouldn’t throw something at him, hoping she’d be okay with his admission. “I found your blog and read it.”

Paling, the blood fled from her flesh and her eyes looked like sooty coals against her face. Her gaze clashed with his and held. “How did you find it? I used a pseudonym and I put it on privacy settings.”

He screwed up his lips, and scrubbed his hand over his face, preparing to tell more painful truths. “I’m a bit of a hacker and I like to research the people I’m working with.” Not sure she’d be receptive to his theory, he left out the part that he thought the ghosts led him to her sight. He thought they were closet romantics. He wouldn’t be surprised if they’d locked them into the room now to force them into some alone time together.

When a tsunami of emotions flitted across her face he tried to read them. Fury. Embarrassment. Lust?

“You investigated me? You read my private musings?”

“You wrote about me? In some very intimate ways. At least I presume it was me since you used my name.” He fixed her with a piercing gaze. “Did you?”

A pregnant pause rent the air as she veiled her eyes from his view. Finally, she smoothed her skirt against her legs and admitted, “Yes. I have very mixed feelings about you. You make me crazy the way we argue, the way you believe in ghosts, and yet I find myself thinking about you, fantasizing about you.”

Taking heart in the last part even if he wasn’t sure he liked the first, he said with a lopsided grin, “You fantasize about me much?”

As if she suddenly got bold, she sidled up to him with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes and ran the tip of her finger down his chest. “Aren’t my blogs proof? The question is, do you fantasize about me?”




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