Stoned is finally live! Pick up your copy or read it free on Kindle Unlimited HERE!
Don't forget, this is book two in The Four, and it's HIGHly(pun totally intended) recommended you read Styx first.
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Stoned is coming soon!
Stoned, the second book in The Four, will be releasing on Tuesday. As in, this Tuesday. February 12th. Tuesday!
Holy crap, that was fast. Eek. I am so excited about this book. Juno is forever my girl crush heroine, FYI. I mean, lower your standards and expectations, but fingers crossed it isn't a suck bucket. LOL, kidding... kinda. 🤣
This book picks up right where Styx leaves off. I'm not going to say too much about this because I know not everyone has read Styx yet, but even though it's about a different couple, the story arc continues from the previous book. So, if you haven't read Styx, or if it has been a while, spend the weekend curled up with some donuts or gummy bears, a glass or four of wine, and reacquaint yourself with Nate and Denny, and Juno.
And when you finish, pre-order Stoned HERE so it hits your kindle ASAP.
The Man with the Grapes and Chuckle
“Send in the man with the grapes,” I muttered, throwing my arm across my face. Even with my eyes closed, the bright light hurt. “And a bath of goat’s milk and rose petals.”
A deep chuckle snapped me from my pharaoh-esque fantasies.
My head and body ached so badly, my own pulse was pissing me off.
How many gummy bears did I eat? Is there a gummy massacre strewn around me? Their poor little heads missing, their gummy family weeping around them.
Or maybe I just knocked back a shot—or ten—too many.
I tried to remember the night before, but I was foggy and disoriented. It must’ve been a rager because I was hungover and loopy. If the masculine presence was any indication, I’d also hooked up with someone.
But since the world hadn’t imploded around us, I must not have come.
Rushes of strong emotion set off an uncontrolled blast of my power. I could have small orgasms, carefully drawn out in just the right way, but not the bed shaking kind.
On one hand, I was relieved to know I hadn’t caused mass destruction, but on the other… I mean, it was just disappointing that a sexy chuckle was all he was offering.
Laughs were important, but an intimate chuckle was hard to find.
“Ma’am, are you okay?” a deep voice asked.
Hmm. Mighty formal for a hookup. And I still don’t have my grapes.
“Yes,” I muttered. “Just waiting for an Adonis to feed me grapes from the vine.”
“Can we get a medic in here? She’s either hit her head or is in shock.”
Me, the good chuckle man, and a medic?
Now it’s a party.
Wait. This isn’t right.
Bolting upright, memory after long, long ago memory hit me at once. The break in, my stores, and the police.
My island, puritan hell, and Absolve.
Denny and Nate.
Hades and Death.
My brother, Death.
Lifting my hand to shield my eyes, I looked up. And up. And up. The tall man took pity on my painfully craned neck and crouched down in front of me.
Holy shit, he’s got a good chuckle and he’s hot.
As soon as my eyes met his hazel ones, every molecule in my body came to life.
Him, they screamed.
You’ve got to be kidding me. Now? Really?
My other half, in all his sexy glory, reached to help me, but I ignored his hand and stood.
And almost fell.
Standing quickly, his arms shot out to grab my hips, steadying me. As soon as he touched me, something zinged through my body, tightening my nipples and cranking my heart up to an eleven on Spinal Tap’s amp.
His eyes widened, and the cold professionalism in his gaze was momentarily replaced with heat as his grip tightened.
He feels it.
The moment—along with his touch—was gone as he stepped away and cleared his throat. “Miss…”
“Keres,” I filled in. “But everyone calls me Juno.”
“Ms. Keres,” he said pointedly, backing up two more steps. “I have some questions about the break-in, but based on your current condition, they can wait.”
I swallowed hard, trying to contain my panic. “My current condition?”
Oh shit. He knows I’m high. Shit. Shit. Shit.
That’s it, I’m going to jail.
The big apple.
Wait, that’s New York City.
Damn, I’m going to jail without ever having been to New York City!
“You passed out,” he said, speaking slowly like he thought I was dumb. “Our medic is going to check you out. I’ll be in touch tomorrow to schedule a time for you to come into the station.”
I opened my mouth to argue I was fine but decided against it.
The detective studied me for a moment before stepping away to talk with the approaching EMT.
Tearing my gaze away so I wasn’t caught gawking, I turned my focus where it belonged.
My stores. My beautiful, nerdtastic stores.
They’d been destroyed by motherfucking Absolve. Fancy ass coffee beans were stomped. Board games were tossed around like a game night gone wrong. Expensive equipment was broken. And if there was a single comic book untorn, I’d be surprised. The whole place was a disaster zone.
They’d been after my lucky charms.
And not the ones in my cereal box.
“Heard you fainted,” the young and attractive EMT said, pulling over a chair. His smile was boyish—crooked and easy. “Sit down and let’s check you over.”
Once I sat, he crouched in front of me. Usually I’d enjoy the cute eye candy, but my eyes immediately went over his shoulder to land on the detective.
He was not cute.
Sinfully sexy and gruffly gorgeous, oh hell yes.
He was tall, and though most people were compared to me, his height was of the towering variety. Muscular, but not the jacked-up meathead kind. Lean, yet still thick. I was willing to bet he was ultra-cut under his pressed and tailored suit. His dark brown hair was clipped short and styled to look as professional as the rest of him. The only thing that looked out of place was the overgrown stubble that covered his strong jaw.
His hazel eyes scanned the room, his lips pressed into a thin line. I wondered if he ever smiled.
I doubted it.
“Keep your eyes where they are,” the EMT said, flashing a light in my face.
Great sacrifice it was, I stared at the detective for a few moments longer before the EMT gave me another task. I followed along, wanting to get it over with.
He, however, was prolonging the exam beyond thorough.
The EMT wanted to flirt with me. Actually, he wanted to do more than that. His thoughts were scrolling across his head like a newsreel.
Not bothering to read any more of them, my gaze drifted to the detective again but all I got was… nothing.
I couldn’t read him.
Not one single thought had come across the entire time I’d been talking to him. It wasn’t as though he’d been trying to blank his mind. Usually the thing people wanted to hide was what their mind screamed the loudest.
There was just nothing to read. No random bits and pieces. No fuzzy static. Just… nothing.
It was confusing, but I also kinda liked it.
“I’m sorry about your store,” the EMT said. “It looks like it was a cool place.”
“It was,” I answered honestly, my heart squeezing. Determination filled my veins. “And it’ll be a nerd’s paradise again soon.”
“I’ll have to check it out then.” He chuckled, but it was nowhere near as good as the detective’s.
My attention shifted without thought, and I looked at the detective to find his gaze was already on me. His jaw was clenched, and his eyes were narrowed.
He knows you’re high. Your pupils are the size of dinner plates. He can smell the weed on you.
Wait, I don’t smoke.
Doesn’t matter, he can still smell it.
Irrational or not, my eyes widened and darted away. It would be a disaster if he decided my stores needed to be searched more thoroughly.
Or worse, my apartment.
“You check out okay,” the EMT said, packing his bag, “but you shouldn’t be alone. Do you live with anyone?”
My nod was met with a wave of disappointment emanating from him.
To be fair, there was a lot to be jealous of when it came to Tom. He’d always hold my heart, and I knew he’d take good care of me.
After listing off the symptoms I needed to watch for, the EMT left while internally debating just how unethical it would be to ask for my number.
Inhaling deeply, my body itched to jump up and get to work doing… something. Anything. But I couldn’t. There were no sales to make. No shelves to restock. No coffee to chug or magicks to make. Even though being surrounded by the ruins of my life was like rubbing road salt in a jagged wound, I couldn’t clean until the police gave me the go ahead.
Surprise tears burned in my eyes, and I vowed to make them pay.
I was War, after all.
Pick up Stoned to read the rest of Juno's hijinks and the detective's hotness!
Ahhhh! I'm so thrilled to announce that Hyde and Seek, my first book baby, is now on audio. I never thought I was an audio fan, but after listening, I went on a BIG spending spree and picked up other audiobooks to try.
I am just so in love with the way it came out. Hearing Jake and Piper's story brings it to a totally different level. And that level is HOT!
Click HERE to pick up your copy... Cupcakes and hot men not included.
Phew, there's a lot to cover... literally!
Best Kase Scenario got a new cover. I'm so in love with it.
I got the proofs for it and Give In and they're both GORGEOUS in paperback. Don't forget you can order sign books HERE
In other cover news...
Styx is finally coming!
Like, c'mon. So hot. I absolutely love each cover in this series and think they totally nail the couples. Lots of symbolism.
Don't forget to add Styx to your GOODREADS TBR and PRE-ORDER!
Next to me. In front of me. Behind me. Below me.
It mocks me.
I don’t know who I am. Where I am. How long I’ve been here.
It’s felt like an eternity.
For all the unknowns, one truth has grown stronger with the torturous passing of time...
I wish I was dead.
Or, at least, I did until I heard her.
She gives me hope. A purpose.
I follow her, soaking in everything she does and growing more dependent. Never in my long life have I seen anyone so perfect.
Now I just have to find a way to make her hear me.
And being able to see me would probably help, too…
Warning: Recommended for readers 18+ due to strong adult language, themes, and situations.
The kinky professor and his strong, amazing student are live!
I know some people have had trouble finding it in the Amazon store. I'm so sorry. I spent the afternoon on the phone with them trying to get it fixed. The powers that be decided to hide it because of adult content. I mean, I knew this book was naughty, but still. Zon should be changing the categories soon(hopefully) and the book should be easier to find.
THIS is a universal link that should take you directly to the book in your local Amazon territory. 🖤
Thank you so much for all the love and support for this filthy-sweet story. The outpouring from everyone has made my heart so full all day. I even woke up from my nap in time to see a pretty "#1 Best Seller" flag on Amazon.
Hi... How are you? Okay, we know I suck at updating things here. Sorry.
My next release, Give In, is up for pre-order and releases on 9/18. This book...🔥💕😍
Give In isn't like anything I've written. It's a little slow burn, a little angsty, and a whole lot hot. I've never shied away from heat, but this is, by far, the hottest book I've written. Oh, yeah...
That said, it's more than that. It's a beautiful love story.
I truly hope you love Damien and Eden's story as much as I do!
I watched her.
I knew I shouldn’t. It was a mistake. Wrong. Forbidden.
A glimpse of heaven before a depraved angel led me to hell.
One email was all it would take to end the torture. A simple email, dropping Eden Wilder from my class and my life.
But I couldn’t do it. I was selfish—taking any bit of her I could.
That’s how addictions start. You give in just a little. Just once. Before long, your obsession has grown into a violent storm, shrouding you in darkness as it consumes your thoughts. Consumes your whole damn life. And everything you’ve worked for is gone.
But you honestly don’t give a f*ck. You’d serve your soul up on a silver platter for your addiction.
And she was mine.
Warning: Recommended for readers 18+ due to strong adult language, themes, and a stalkerific hero who puts the FUN in dysfunctional. Enjoy!
After a brief hiatus, my badass with an accent is back!
UNTIL NOX is live!
Pick up your copy or read it for free on Kindle Unlimited!
Writing in the Happily Ever Alpha Kindle World was such an amazing experience. The other authors were awesome, and getting the chance to work with Aurora Rose Reynolds was epic. And I'm totally looking forward to doing it again... Oh yeah, you read that right.
All that said, the end of the Kindle World program doesn't bum me out. I'm so excited to be able to offer Until Nox in ALL Amazon territories. That means no loopholes or contests needed for my beautiful non-US readers. I hope you all enjoy Nox and Gus. Thank you for the love and support and patience.
Most of this is from a post I added to my dad’s online cancer update journal that I run to keep friends and family up to date on major updates. I hadn’t originally planned to share it on my blog, but it just felt right.
Friday marked two years since my dad's diagnosis.
Two years of treatment.
Two years of random and frequent hospital stays.
Two years of pain, heartache, worry, anger— no, fury.
Two years of love, laughter, jokes, family, and togetherness.
Two years of memories that, at times, we weren't sure we'd get to make.
I purposefully didn't write this post on Friday. Friday is a nasty anniversary. It's a memory that haunts with an unsettling clarity. A turning point, signaling the beginning of a "new normal". It's a day that I think we're all justified in dreading and hating.
But the days that come after are different. These days, two years ago, were when I saw how strong and loving my mom was. How she slept by my dad's side, holding his hand and facing the upcoming battle with him. It's been the same throughout all of this.
They were the days when I saw my dad joke and laugh through being poked and prodded. When he listened and trusted my opinion, knowing I wouldn't let him down. When he continued to be, as he had for my whole life, Superman. Unless he was wearing his glasses, and then he was Clark Kent. Even now, he's who I go to for help. For answers. For assurances and jokes and friendship and togetherness. He's still Superman, only now he has even cooler, hipster Clark Kent glasses.
That bond, strength, and love is what I want to celebrate. Between my parents. Between my dad and us kids. Between my dad and his grandkids. All the things that drove him forward to face something incomprehensible. The way he's flipped cancer the bird and tackled each setback with determination and stubbornness, fighting to live his life in spite of it all.
And there have been setbacks. More than what's fair— not that any of this is. In all of this, I think the one thing that was most unexpected were the side effects. We all knew to fear the cancer, but none of us knew how much chaos the side effects would cause. Even a quick scan through these updates— which are only the major issues— is enough to make my head spin. But my dad has faced it all, kicked its ass, and he keeps going.
For the last two years he's been a man with cancer. And when something is so all-encompassing the way cancer is, seeping into all aspects of his life, it's hard to think about much else sometimes. But he's not just a cancer patient. He's a husband who cherishes his wife and is deeply loved in return. He's a dad who has always loved his kids— supporting us, having our back, and never failing to share how much he loves us and how proud he is of us. And he's the Papa/Grandpa who's wild about his grandkids, beaming with pride and bragging to everyone who'll listen. He's a man who we've had two years with because he's so strong, even when he feels like he's not.
That's what I want to remember. Celebrate. Love and strength and togetherness and ass kicking.
And this is where I switch back to speaking to you, my readers. My pervs, my think tank, my naughty cupcakes.
The amount of patience you’ve shown me while you all wait a billion years for books is more important to me than I can describe. I wish I could block out the real world and immerse myself in my worlds, but I can’t.
Sometimes the real world requires my full attention.
Sometimes it’s a rain cloud that follows me from world to world, soaking my mood in darkness. And, let’s be honest, I murder characters enough on a good day. I don’t need the fuel.
Other times life is so amazing that I need to be in that moment, appreciating the calm between the storms. Soaking in the time I have with the ones I love.
So, from the bottom of my heart, thank you. For the patience. The distractions. The love and support and hilarious memes and hot guys. You guys and all that you mean to me are part of what I’m celebrating about these two years. I love you all. 💕
Author note: This blog post was previously published on the lovely Trinity Hanrahan's blog.
There are a few common misconceptions about smutty romance authors. Like that we’re all pervs and sex craved maniacs…
Okay, well, that part is probably pretty true.
But there are a few myths about writing sex that I’d like to debunk.
Myth 1: We wanna chat with random dudes on Facebook about sex
Truth: Imagine being an author, trying to catch up on Facebook. You see you have a new message, and get excited, thinking it’s a fan message(which are the BEST!). BAM! Dick pic. And not even a very impressive one…
First of all, I’m gonna go out on a limb and say sending a chick an unsolicited dick pic is never going to work. Ever. Let’s stop that from being a thing. But sending a random author a dick pic? That’s a good way to end up in a story, and not in a flattering way.
We write sex, true. That doesn’t mean we want to talk to random men about it. This brings me to my next myth…
Myth 2: Writing about sex gets us hot and bothered 24/7
Truth: I can’t speak for everyone with this, of course. But writing about sex is not the same as reading someone else’s scene.
If I read a book and the scenes are hot, that’s one thing. When I read my own finished work, though, I tend to dwell on what I’d change. Or whether I'm putting people to sleep with the dullness. And when I’m writing? Pppffff. Hot and sexy thoughts aren’t running through my mind. Instead, there are a lot of logistics I need to focus on.
How many hands did I just write? Wait, can she bend like that? Did I forget to have her take her panties off? Where are his arms? Can they just watch Daily Show and go to bed? How plausible is it that they’d have Cirque Du Soleil ribbons hanging from the ceiling? Why isn’t there a math equation to know if the height difference will change the logistics? Like ‘Height – Height x Dick Length= Angle’.
I also have to be careful not to just write the actions and mechanics of sex.
There has to be heat. Emotion. I like to add some playful humor between the characters before the intensity takes over. Dirty talk is also a big plus.
But it all has to be real.
Even before we get to the down and dirty, the buildup of tension takes chapters and chapters to write. And, once again, I have to pick my words carefully.
If I don’t choose the phrasing and timing of the dialogue just right, it’s easy for the dirty talk to sound like a phone sex line transcript.
So sexy, right? Excuse me while I fling my panties across the room.
All of that takes time. Effort. Uhhh, and let’s just be honest… Some borderline obsessing.
And I definitely look like I’ve spent hours in front of a computer.
Myth 3: We’re dressed like naughty sex kitten librarians while we write
Granted, I do wear glasses, but out of necessity, not fantasy.
It’s not like the movies, where I’ll take them off and pull out the one bobby pin that’s magically holding up a tumble of snarl free hair. Taking off my glasses means I’ll look shifty and squinty. And if I pull my hair out of the messy bun, I’m about 99% sure Cheetos will fall out.
And, look, while I’m being honest here… I’m pretty sure this Spongebob t-shirt I’m wearing is in danger of disintegrating off of me because I’ve worn it for a... uhhh, couple days. And the Jack Skellington PJ pants? Comfy as they are, they’re hardly the height of sexy.
Actually, that gif brings up a valid comparison. Most romance authors are like Liz Lemon.
We’re sometimes frustrated.
Writing is usually accompanied by eating what’s convenient, which is junk food, I mean, free range tofu.
Seriously, we can get really, really frustrated.
But when everything clicks together and the scene flows, it’s incredibly rewarding!
And it’s something to be celebrated
Myth 4: Romance authors aren’t real authors
Truth: This one throws me. Not real? Do people think I’m invisible? Does this mean I can finally walk around without pants on? Because last time I tried, they told me I was drunk and I wasn’t allowed back at Target.
Write suspense? Author. Biographies? Author. Mystery? Doesn’t take a detective with a magnifying glass to see you’re an author. Short stories, poems, porn with a plot? Author!
And don’t let anyone make you feel otherwise.