Monthly Archives: October 2016

Cover Reveal: J.C. McKenzie!


beastofall_w11033_750Today, she’ll break free. Tomorrow, she’ll make them pay

“Two months ago my world collapsed and the beast reigned.

Seven weeks ago the SRD captured me.

Nine days ago, they injected me with something vile.

Today, I break free.

And tomorrow?

I’ll make them pay.”

Badass Shifter Andy McNeilly wakes up from a horrible nightmare, only to discover it wasn’t a dream, and she’s no longer quite so badass. Chemically curbed, Andy has lost touch with her feras and beast when she needs them most. Can she regain control of her supernatural abilities in time to reap retribution from her enemies, or will she fall as fodder in a power play for control of Vancouver’s seedy underworld?


No feras. No beast. Whatever they shot me with blocked my communication with the animals. Did it prevent shifting as well? I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to call a form and change. Only a headache answered. Dread flittered across my skin. Was this permanent?

As the Carus, the genetic throwback to the first demi-god progeny of the beast goddess, I caged a beast with rage and power rivaled by few, and possessed more than one animal familiar to shift into.

At least, I did until the SRD shot me full of chemicals. Would I ever regain my abilities? Hear the indignant screech of the peregrine falcon? Or the lusty purr of the mountain lion? Or soulful howl of the wolf?

My heart hammered, punching bone. A buzzing sensation filled my head. The “wrongness” of my condition grated against my nerves, slicing them into slivers like a planer shucking off wood shavings.

Something in my abdomen swelled, as if the beast pushed against whatever barrier caged and hid her from me.

I’ll get you out, I told her, not knowing if she could hear. We’ll make them pay.

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headshot1About the Author:

Born and raised on the Haida Gwaii, off the West Coast of Canada, J.C. McKenzie grew up in a pristine wilderness that inspired her to dream. She writes Urban Fantasy and Paranormal Romance.

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Super Release Day! Desperately Seeking Salvage!


Oh man, I am over the moon excited! Today is super release day for the first novella in my new Adventures in Ghostsitting Series! You’re going to laugh, you might be a little scared and I hope you are highly entertained by my girl Mel Hargrove who owns a junkyard that’s just a little more than a collection of trash…

DesperatelySeekingSalvage_w11118_750(1)Adventures in Ghostsitting

Mel Hargrove, eighties enthusiast, is the protector of much more than random cars and broken washing machines. Each piece in her precious junkyard has a ghost attached to it. No one in Frysville is aware of the secret that’s just down the road from them, and she wants to keep it that way. But when she finds naked statues of aging townspeople in the main square, she must figure out if someone, or something, is missing from her junkyard and out causing havoc. With a host of ghosts behind her and her new boyfriend beside her, Mel is ready to take on almost anything. Almost being the operative word…


The book popped open to lie flat on her desk and fluttered its pages for about two minutes, going back and forth through sections and times. It landed on nothing.

“I can’t believe we don’t have a single statue maker here.” She shoved the glasses back up on her nose.

“What about someone who works, or worked, with marble?” Becker offered.

“Why not?” Mel glanced back and gave him a smile. “Okay. I’m looking for someone who is capable of chiseling marble.”

More fluttering, more shuffling back and forth fast enough to send a light breeze tousling her frosted hair. She played with the jelly bracelet on her wrist while she waited for the thing to settle down.

The book halted suddenly, the air stilling as she looked down at the name highlighted in red. “Jameson McElroy Cleverton.”

Well, she knew where he was because she’d rented him out in his shaving kit to Mrs. Paisley to clear her house of negative energy brought on by her family fighting during a family reunion last week. “Next.”

More flapping followed by a slowing down, and one page at a time slid across each other. Another name was highlighted in red. “Casey Deavers.”

Casey in his sea-glass bubble was on a trip to the Martins’ house to dust the knickknacks standing on the shelf that no one wanted to use a ladder for, ten feet above the floor. “Next.”

One page slid slowly to the right but settled back down before it fully flipped.

She tried to move it herself, and it was as if it had been welded to the other pages. Grabbing a letter opener from her Gem and the Holograms cup, she tried to wedge it in between the pages, but the bugger wasn’t budging.

She slapped both hands on the desk, stared hard at the book, and said, “Show me the next.”

The page rippled like water in a pond after a rock had been thrown, but it didn’t flip.

“What’s going on?” Becker asked.

She shook her head at him, not wanting to break her concentration. “Show me the next,” she said louder and with more force.

The page wrinkled and crinkled and twisted and squirmed but didn’t actually turn.

“Now!” she yelled like a drill sergeant.

The page surged against the rest of the book, humping up enough for Mel to get her fingers in under it. She would see this freaking page if she had to tear the damn thing out.

It flipped, the rest of the pages turned on top of it, and the back of the book slammed down on her hand, pinning it so tightly her fingers began to ache.

“What the hell?” Becker stepped back.

“Get me the phone, please,” she said trying to pull her hand out of the book. It was futile. The book just compressed harder. Her circulation was being cut off.

“What is going on?” he asked while handing her the phone.

“Can you hit the speed dial five?”

He did that, too, but one eyebrow kicked up, which wasn’t surprising since her hand was caged in a book that looked like it was trying to eat her.

“I promise to answer all your questions in just a minute.”

The other eyebrow joined the first, high on his forehead.

The phone rang in her ear. Mercifully Serena picked up on the second ring. “What’s up, chickie?”

“I’m stuck in my book. What do I do?”

Serena whistled through the phone, a long sound of disbelief. “Did you piss it off?”


“What happened?”

“Do we have to go through all this? I need to get my hand out of the book before my fingers fall off. The book is clamped down around me and won’t let go.”

“Tell it you withdraw the question.”

But she didn’t want to withdraw the question. Whatever was in red on that page was probably the exact name she needed. Without it she had no way of knowing who to go after or what they were attached to. She’d be at a dead end.

On the other hand, well, she’d still have her hand.

15 Minutes


Sometimes in our lives, we have almost no time to do what we want to do – like write. So I started a new page here at my site today. It’s called “15 Minutes to Write”. Basically, the challenge is to take fifteen minutes from your day – and it doesn’t even have to be all at once, but it would be better if it is – and write. That’s approximately the time it takes to write one page. Some do more, some do less, but it’s a start.

What I will do to help you meet that goal is give you a daily challenge. Tips, tricks, jumpstarts, and more to get your writing juices flowing. Take a look at “15 Minutes to Write”. The daily challenges are in the dropdown menu. Enjoy!