Love Can Really Turn a Guy Around #Surrendering to the Beast #erotic paranormal

This month, we're blogging about the healing power of love.

I like to think of that as how one woman can completely turn a guy around. Make him a man. Make him commit.

In one of my newest releases Surrendering to the Beast, that happens with Daemon when he meets Heather. You see, Daemon's a satyr, a creature of lust and good times, while Heather's a good fairy who isn't into anything naughty...or fun.

When they meet, worlds collide. Not only does Heather find her fun side, Daemon learns the power of love and that opening your heart to another person is truly when the good times roll.

Here's the blurb and a brief excerpt.

OCTOBER 13 - AVAILABLE FOR PRE-ORDER

AMAZON - SAMHAIN - BN

Book Two - Taming the Beast series

Erotic Paranormal/Romantic Comedy

Blurb:

When she’s good, she’s very good. But when he’s bad, she’s better.

Taming the Beast, Book 2

As a good fairy, Heather is empathetic and chaste to a fault. No bad language, no dirty thoughts, flirting and no sex. But when a satyr named Daemon steps up to her reception desk at From Crud to Stud, she finds herself on the fast track to exquisite corruption.

Daemon is the total bad-boy package with a kiss straight from the dark side. Though he’s here for a supernatural makeover, Heather can’t imagine why any red-blooded woman would want him to change.

A disciple of the god of wine, Daemon has had his share of good times. But sex has never been this good. Heather brings out a new side of him, a side that makes him want to protect as well as pillage.

But Daemon needs a little creative backup to help set his fairy’s naughtiness free. And that means bringing in Mistress Jin. Under the genie’s tutelage and Daemon’s shameless lust, Heather is about to learn what it means to let loose.

Warning: Not your typical bedtime story. May lead to indecent behavior, a taste for voyeurism, discipline, bondage, m/f, m/f/f and f/f action, which will result in screaming orgasms. Proceed with caution.

Excerpt:

Heather steeled herself to do battle with Satan. Cautiously, she faced her webcam and his image on her computer monitor. This evening, he’d assumed the form of a European playboy, a snifter of cognac held casually in one hand, dark hair slicked back, his blood-red ascot contrasting nicely with his white shirt and navy blazer.

He certainly knew how to dress.

“Cara mia.” Heat smoldered in his voice and dark eyes. “What can I do to you?”

“For me,” she corrected gently, wondering when he’d ever get that right.

Grinning, he focused on her white peasant blouse and jutted nipples, her areolas tightened from the chilly weather, not him. Tonight was damp and cool thanks to a spring storm that continued to rage in the French Quarter. Lightning flashed and the office lights flickered.

Flames flared briefly in his pupils. “We’ll do many things to each other, no?”

Heather smiled politely, a knee-jerk reaction for a good fairy. Needing to get tough, she held up his overdue bill, hoping he’d look at it rather than her chest. Her hand shook so badly the paper rattled.

“How you tremble,” he cooed. “How pale you are. Allow me to put some color in your lovely cheeks. Heat that will last an eternity.”

Her skin got even clammier. “Please, just pay your account.” She waved the paper and talked fast before losing her nerve. “Your grandson failed to show for his last two appointments. I’m sure he had a good reason. Unfortunately, he didn’t call to cancel.” She offered an apologetic smile and pressed on. “Because you’re the cardholder, we had to charge you for the time. I’m so sorry, but it is the rule.”

One she was honor-bound to enforce as an employee of From Crud to Stud, a makeover service for supernatural beings. Howls from weres, hisses from vampires and obscenities from demons poured from the treatment rooms. Those poor souls were going through proverbial hell to suppress their beasts. They longed to date mortal women without freaking them out, while also winning their hearts the normal way. With real charm, not magic, with integrity and love, not lies and manipulation.

But these makeovers took the staff’s valuable time and clients needed to pay for the effort. Even Satan should understand that.

He gave her an indulgent smile. “What charges?”

Gasping, she dropped the flaming paper in her trashcan before it burnt her fingers.

“Later,” he said and killed the call.

Hurriedly, Heather put out the small blaze, chiding herself for letting the account get to this point. She should have been firm with Satan’s grandson when he signed up for the service. Determined to make up for being too nice, she brought up her bank account to pay the charges herself. She was about to transfer the funds when the lights flickered twice, thunder boomed and the front door flew open, banging against the wall.

She flinched.

A blast of dank air and rain blew inside, followed by a guy who looked to be thirty or so. He wore a black cowboy hat, snug navy tee, low-slung jeans and cowboy boots.

Once he shoved the door shut, he slumped against it, breathing hard.

Heather stood so quickly her chair rolled into the wall.

He didn’t notice. He’d closed his eyes and raised his face to the ceiling, his prominent Adam’s apple bobbing with his hard swallow.

Alarmed yet intrigued, she regarded the short, dark hairs on his throat and took the rest of him in. His rain-dampened hair was the color of dark chocolate, thick and wavy, flowing to his broad shoulders. They heaved with his next ragged breath. Tall, possibly six-three, he was lean yet muscular. His wet tee clung to his well-defined pecs and abs, those bruising biceps. Stubble covered his strong jaw, upper lip and cheeks. His bronze skin spoke of days in the sun.

Even from where she stood, Heather smelled his scent. Clean and masculine, a woodsy, fresh fragrance along with something else…the unmistakable odor of liquor.

Uh-oh. It wasn’t often that mortals, drunk or otherwise, happened upon this place. When they did, Heather had ironclad rules to follow. First, buzz Constance, a voodoo priestess who could remove memories by laying her hands on someone’s head. Following that, Heather was supposed to buzz Becca, a half-mortal witch who owned this place.

Heather leaned over her desk to press the intercom button.

The guy turned to her, blinked slowly and stared.

Her hand stalled.

His eyes were amazing, the color of Lipton tea, ringed by long, sooty lashes, his attention riveted as he drank her in. Given his slow, sexy smile, Heather suspected he was undressing her with his eyes.

She swallowed and was about to press the button when he groaned suddenly and mournfully, the sound of someone in serious pain.

Heather paused and decided not to call for anyone just yet. “Are you all right?”

DROP BY FOR MY SURRENDERING TO THE BEAST RELEASE PARTY ON FB

ALL DAY OCTOBER 13 - TONS OF AUTHORS AND PRIZES

https://www.facebook.com/events/412960518903258/

WIN 5 FULL-LENGTH, AWARD-WINNING, BESTSELLING ROMANCES IN MY RAFFLECOPTER CONTEST TO CELEBRATE SURRENDERING TO THE BEAST

a Rafflecopter giveaway

___________

ALSO RELEASING OCTOBER 13

11 ALPHA DOMS - 99¢ box set

My Novella - Tropic of Pleasure

AMAZON - NOOK - iBOOKS - KOBO

Blurb (for box set):

11 ALPHA DOMS TO ROCK YOUR WORLD

From New York Times and USA Today Bestselling Authors and more!

Are you ready for 11 alphas that will make you sigh, make your toes curl, and make your panties wet? You won’t be disappointed! We have military, menage, contemporary, and a dash of paranormal romance that will send you right over the edge.

Jump into the action and suspense and find out now how these alphas take care of their women!

Blurb (for Tropic of Pleasure):

The one woman they shouldn’t want. Two Doms she can’t resist. A sizzling weekend beyond their wildest desires.

Bondage, submission, punishment, oh my. Cara’s wanted Hud and Ryder forever. They’re Alpha to the core and love a wicked good time, which has her ready to sign up for their brand of BDSM.

Although Ryder and Hud haven’t been immune to Cara’s charms, they don’t have a death wish—her billionaire daddy is a major investor in their high-end construction firm. When she insists it’s no problem and offers to be their sub, visions of blindfolds, collars and her sweet surrender dance in their heads, along with the longing they’ve fought.

Oh baby. The battle’s just begun during a smoking-hot weekend on a private island.

 

Website  –  FB  – FB Fanpage  – Twitter  –  Amazon Author Page

The Healing Power of Love...

This month’s theme resonates with most romance readers because deep at our core we do believe that love embodies the total acceptance of another person and grants an ease that allows the emotional wounds of the past or present to be soothed.

People who share an experience often find common ground and begin their journey of discovery and healing together. We all carry around secrets but what if the discovery of that secret brought more pain before an actual healing could take place? The willingness to go the extra mile to help someone we love is, at least for me, the basis for a wonderful romance.

I have always loved a mysterious hero because there are so many layers to each individual that peeling them away becomes an adventure in itself. It doesn’t matter if the wound is physical or emotional; love can work its magical healing power—even for a plain Jane USO hostess and an elusive army lieutenant with a forty-eight hour pass and a secret he can never share.

I’m very happy about being part of the first Romance Books ‘4’ Us anthology, Entice Me, with my 20^th century historical/paranormal romance, I’ll Be Seeing You. Available October 10, 2015…

Blurb:

Jack Howland, part of an elite group of OSS special agents can’t resist the pull of the moon or widowed USO hostess, Lulu Lane. After the war, while chasing a Nazi war criminal, their paths cross again. Will the truth about what Jack is send Lulu screaming into the night or back into his arms?

Excerpt: Heat level 2 chili peppers (mild)

She wasn’t used to having someone pay for a cab or open the door of the small cottage she hadn’t shared with anyone else in three years.

The young lieutenant had barely closed the door before pulling her into his arms and kissing her—hard, as if he’d wanted to imprint his mark for all time instead of forty-eight hours. She pushed the thought away. He’d made his intentions very clear. Lulu had come to terms with the fact that forty-some hours with Jack Howland was worth more than a lifetime of regret.

She hadn’t been kissed in a very long time or been pressed against a wall while large, masculine hands swept over her bare flesh. His mouth tasted of cigarettes and coffee, unfamiliar and delicious. His touch, tender and demanding, sparked a need she barely remembered but knew, after this night, she’d never forget.

Her experience had been limited to a young husband whose enthusiasm often over-shadowed anything she might have desired, if she’d been brave enough to ask. Much like their dance, she followed where he led and was surprised by the stray tear he kissed away and didn’t ask her to explain. He’d glanced at Toby’s picture on the fireplace mantel and held her while she explained her two-week marriage and being widowed when the Arizona sank.

Jack was tender and passionate and she had to keep reminding herself that their time together was temporary, but she’d never been kissed so intimately or devoured so completely; consumed.

As much as he gave she couldn’t help but feel that there was part of himself he held back and she found herself wishing that might come before their time together ended. If it didn’t, she couldn’t fault him. He hadn’t made any promises past forty-eight hours and she didn’t expect any. He attended to her protection without comment and she was alternately grateful and sad. A child would have been impractical.

She thought she’d convinced herself that the last thing she needed in her life was the complication of a romance during this damn war until at the end of their time together, he kissed her goodbye and climbed into a cab while the radio played Jo Stafford singing “I’ll Be Seeing You” in the background.

He didn’t look back until she turned to go inside. One last glimpse found their gazes locked as they had been only hours ago. If she lived to be one hundred, she was never going to forget the desperate sadness he’d refused to explain.

It would have made a great movie scene. A real tearjerker, if her reaction was anything to go by.

I hope you enjoyed the blurb and excerpt for I’ll Be Seeing You, and my nod to a generation that made this country great. If you’ve been enticed (sorry, I couldn’t resist) you can pre-order the entire collection that also includes stories from Cindy Spencer Pape, Marianne Stephens, Jean Hart Stewart, Janice Seagraves, Gemma Juliana, Denyse Bridger, Rose Anderson and Cara Marsi here http://www.amazon.com/Entice-Me-Luscious-Love-Stories-ebook/dp/B015YEHP9U/ref=sr_1_4?s=books&ie=UTF

So many luscious love stories for such a great price! What, I didn’t mention that it was only $.99? With a heat rating of 1-5 chili peppers, you’re sure to find something to enjoy while you curl up with a cup of your favorite tea or coffee and nibble something sweet!

Until next month,

Happy Reading!

Paris Brandon

http://parisbrandon.com

http://twitter.com/#!/ParisBrandon

https://www.facebook.com/paris.brandon.author

Amazon Author page:

http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B00N3M7EEM

Tea with Finola & Martin by Rose Anderson

Experience tells me the literary characters created in my imagination evolve into people of substance. I walk into their world and they share with me all the details of their lives, details I never realized while writing them. I’m always surprised to discover these insights for they too have life’s baggage and skeletons in their closets. That makes sense. Things like this make us the people we are. Funny thing, I feel these emotions when they reveal them, as if those insights are actually a view inside my own soul. Hmm… I suppose they are. I wrote them!

I had such an encounter recently when I found myself 111 years in the past …

Tea with Finola and Martin

I was standing beside an ancient tree on the Harvard campus, absorbed in the magic of being transported 111 years back in time, when a lovely old woman came up to me. She had snow-white hair and expressive green eyes, her appearance indefinably reminiscent of an Irish actor I’d seen once. I recognized her instantly as Finola Maguire and said hello.

She was all smiles and spoke with a faint Irish lilt when she said, “Ah, Rose, I’ve been waitin’ for ye to come to call. Come inside an’ I’ll put the kettle on for tea.”

She placed her hands on the ancient tree and I heard her indistinct whisper. Suddenly, a small glittering cottage appeared right before my eyes. I followed her inside and she asked me to sit. The house was cozy, no more than two or three rooms, as far as I could tell. She took off her coat and hung it on a hook by the door, then went to tend her teakettle. To my surprise, a brass button shot out of an old boot near the hearth to clatter across the floor.

Seeing it, Mrs. Maguire peered into the boot, and said, “Martin, stop sortin’ yer treasures. Look who’s come for a visit. It’s Rose herself!”

A second later, a packrat emerged. I greeted him and he chittered happily. I caught Mrs. Maguire’s eye hoping she’d translate. After all, she was a witch and he was her familiar spirit.

She said, “Martin says he’s so glad you’ve come and wonders if ye’d care to look at his collection. He’s very proud of it, ye know. Go on an’ take a look, dear. it’s sure to make ye smile. I’ll only be a minute with our tea.”

Delighted, I turned my attention to the packrat. The little sprite dipped in and out of his boot with a great many buttons, keys, and other things that he’d found lost on the ground. I told him how impressed I was and could tell it pleased him by the happy ridges that appeared just above his eyes. He was about to show me the collection in the other full boot in the corner across the room, when we were called to take our tea.

Mrs. Maguire filled my cup first and then saw to her own. For Martin, she poured a splash of milk in a saucer, then buttered a corner of a biscuit for him. His tail pointed to the jam jar and she spread blackberry jam over his butter then handed it over. He took the piece in his deft little paws and launched right into it.

Apparently his not waiting for us was a lapse in manners, in her opinion, for she tsked. Motioning to the plate of scrumptious-looking biscuits, she told me, “Oh do help yerself, dear. We don’t stand on ceremony, do we Martin?”

He looked at me and shook his head. His whiskers were purple with jam and crumbs stuck to his nose. I found him adorable.

I helped myself to the biscuits. They were delicious and tasted exactly like biscuits my grandmother used to make. But of course they would. We writers often use what we know when we write our scenes. I judiciously asked about her grandson. I pretty much knew the outcome of this story, but they didn’t just yet.

“Oh Rose,” she said, “for more than two hundred years I’ve searched high an’ low for others to help me with me daughter Abigayle’s charm. There are no other witch folk.”

She went on to say she recently spent two weeks traveling to Salem for the rents, then on to Boston for the banking, and then back home again. While she was in Boston, she placed inscrutable ads in the local newspapers, things only other witch folk would understand. Not a soul had yet replied. She dabbed her glistening eyes with her napkin, and said, “I’ve come to suspect the others of my kind were either all murdered during the witch hunts, or they abandoned the Auld ways to save themselves.”

Martin chittered and I suspected he wanted her to explain the Auld ways to me. This proved to be the case when she asked him the best way to distill this vast concept to a non-witch like myself. Whiskers dripping with milk, he chittered on and on. She listened and occasionally nodded. Finally, to me she said, “Ye know Martin is an ancient creature, Rose, far older than we. What he knows comes from long ago when people lived closer to nature. Back then, there were some with an affinity for the energies of all life. These were my people, Rose. The energies are auld, as old as time itself—a life force if ye will, an’ it exists in every livin’ thing. Folks with this affinity understand that life comes in two halves of the whole.”

Martin, now grooming himself after his meal, stopped and chittered once more.

“Oh that’s a good explanation, Martin.” To me, she said, “Ye don’t see a stag without seein’ a doe, nor a hen without a rooster. An’ ye don’t see a woman without seein’ a man. It’s the same for everythin’, Rose. Even the flowers an’ trees have both sides within them. My kind understands the glorious Mind who made it all, an’ we know the Mind walks among creation as both the god an’ goddess. An’ because we understand this, we are allowed to call upon the energies of nature for magic.”

I couldn’t help but ask why the witches of Salem couldn’t call upon these energies to help put an end to the persecutions.

“Oh bless ye, dear. If only we could have done so. There were so few of us to stand against the fear and intolerance, ye see. Long ago, when everyone followed the Auld ways, it would have been a small matter to turn an ill wish into good. It takes the belief of many to turn dark thoughts to light ones. But somethin’ happened when a few people learned they could wield power by incitin’ fear in others. The fearful ones turned away from the Auld ways, an’ in time they simply forgot.”

I couldn’t help but compare the intolerance of the past to current events in my own time. Intolerance was an ugly thing no matter when. I told them as much.

Martin chimed in. She nodded and relayed his words, “He says ye always must believe the world can be better, for that’s exactly how it becomes so. Ye must believe, dear. Believe and hope.”

I understood what they meant. Positive thinking often made the seemingly impossible possible. My thoughts turning to the nearly impossible situation her grandson was in, I asked about Neila.

“Oh, she’s a dear, sweet-natured lass. An’ so terribly shy. The poor dear gets all tongue-tied when it comes to talkin’ with people so she keeps to herself. I have her makin’ her sketches across the way in that empty building. She’s practicin’ her conversation while she works.”

How sly of her. I told her so.

Her cheeks pinkened. She smiled back at me and said, “Hope is a good thing, dear.”

Martin chittered. There was no need to translate. I understood.

One new pen name, two new love stories.
Both available for pre-order this week!

 
http://www.amazon.com/Entice-Me-Luscious-Love-Stories-ebook/dp/B015YEHP9U/ 

The Changeling
A spin on the Scottish ballad of Tam Lin

Blurb ~
Half-fae Lenox Pendry is surrounded by secrets and none are his to keep. Torn from his mother’s arms as a newborn and raised a changeling, Lenox grows to adulthood unaware of what and who he is and oblivious to the danger unfolding as his birthday draws near. Unsuspectingly sent to the Scottish Lowlands out of harm’s way, he meets a beautiful healer named Janet Roxburgh. The townspeople believe her to be a witch. It would appear Janet has a few secrets of her own.

http://www.amazon.com/Paranormal-Romance-Changeling-Sweet-Novel-ebook/dp/B015QBO3VO/

>>۞<<

Stop by my blog for interesting topics all month longhttp://calliopeswritingtablet.com/

http://madelinearcher.blogspot.com/

Rose Anderson is a multi-published award-winning author and dilettante who loves great conversation and delights in interesting things to weave into stories. Rose also writes across genres under the pen name Madeline Archer. She lives with her family and small menagerie amid oak groves and prairie in the rolling glacial hills of the upper Midwest.

Find Rose's scorching novels wherever love stories are sold
Sample the First Chapters

Guest Blog: Trevann Rogers talks about The Healing Power of Love #RB4U

The Healing Power of Love

Most of us spend our lives trying to live up to the expectations of other people.  First our parents, then friends, and eventually our lovers.  Sometimes we try so hard to please them that we have no idea what would please us.  Sometimes, we lose sight of who we really are.

If we try to become who we want to be, we're often met with resistance.  For example, those in the LGBT community may be shunned by the very people whose love they want most. They are ridiculed in jokes, in their religious practices, and worse.  Some are physically attacked. Many people fear these reactions and resign themselves to burying their true selves—with good reason.

I believe that being truly happy requires being who you truly are. This is the moral of most of the stories I write and certainly the theme of House of the Rising Son. Neither heroe is living the life he wants. Cheyenne, the half incubus/half human son of the ruler wants to play music and be respected for his talent. Alexander  wants to keep the peace and considers acquiescing to his father's demand that he marry someone he doesn’t like—much less love—in order to build their business.

Both men are leading shadow lives, wounded and hiding from their true selves—until they meet each other. Each one gains strength from their relationship, and find in each other the support and encouragement they'd never imagined. Together they are strong enough to put everything on the line to live the lives they desire. Love heals their wounds.

Living After Midnight, Book 1

Cheyenne is a half-human incubus whose star is on the rise in the Unakite City rock scene. His father, the leader of the supernatural races, would prefer he keep a “low profile”, but screw that. Cheyenne has as much music in his veins as royal incubi blood. 

Alexander's future is all set—finish law school, join the family firm, and marry someone who'd be good for business. Not that he has a say in any of it. He's barely met the woman his father expects him to marry. 

As Cheyenne's musical career takes off, his carefully constructed life begins to unravel, exacerbated by an ex-lover who can't let go, a crotchety barkeeper with a dirty mind and a pure heart, a drag queen who moonlights as a nanny, and Alexander—who's not sure if he's falling for the incubus or the rocker. 

Cheyenne denies who he is, while Alexander hides what he wants. Together, they learn that getting what they truly want means being who they truly are.

Warning: Contains hot were-tiger sex, a Thanksgiving celebration that makes the Inquisition look like a tea party, and an incubus who'll rock your world.

Author Bio:

Trevann Rogers writes urban fantasy and LGBT paranormal romances. Her stories incorporate an unquenchable addition to music and her love for vampires, Weres, incubi and rock stars. Like these elusive creatures, Trevann learned long ago that sometimes being yourself means Living After Midnight.

Website http://www.trevannrogers.com

Twitter http://www.twitter.com/trevannrogers

Facebook http://www.facebook.com/trevannr

Pinterest http://www.pinterest.com/trevannr

Amazon Page: http://www.amazon.com/Trevann-Rogers/e/B00LNP5VVE/

Opals, Marigolds and the healing power of LOVE by Krista Ames

Hi *waves* - welcome to my day at RB4U !!

Today is October 2nd and it's definitely fall in Northern Lower Michigan.

Seems quite unreal to be October already.  The time is flying by too fast for my taste.

Our theme this month is...

Birthstone and Flower
Opal (or Tourmaline) - medical amulet, psychic vision
Marigold (grief, unease)
 Theme
The healing power of love- personal experiences, 

book character’s experiences 

  

Here are my takes on the above :

As far as the Opal...i don't really know anything about them or and i don't have one but let me tell you, i'd love to have physic visions.  Not sure i'd like to see the bad stuff but i'm a true believer of the paranormal.  I watch the shows like Charmed and Vampire Diaries where the person with the psychic ability touches an object or person and has a vision and i really think it might be cool but i could also see where it would be a burden for sure.  (and yes i do know those are just tv shows but i still believe)  Have you ever been or wanted to go to one of those palm or tarot card readers at a carnival ?  I would love to but i'm a little chicken if there's bad news in my future :)

Marigolds.

Now this one confuses me.  I always thought Marigolds were a good thing.  

I never in the past had associated them with grief or unease but now that i'm thinking about it...I have always planted them around the entire perimeter of my garden to keep some of the critters out.  So, i suppose they are creating grief and unease for the bugs :)

The healing power of LOVE.

Now that's one thing i do believe in for sure.  

I don't really like to talk about my personal life and the bad times and I'm sure others have probably  

had worse or more traumatic experiences than me and brought out of it by love.

I was married when i was 23 and after being with him for 20 years with alot of unhappiness, it ended very unpleasantly.  My children were my rock during that time and their love and support kept me going when there were days i just wanted to stay in bed.  They gave me the strength to move on without their dad and by that time, they were ready too.  He hadn't given any of us much choice as he up and left us to fend for ourselves.  Then some time later I met someone and of all things, online.  At the time we were living in Florida and this new someone lived in Michigan.  There's something to be said for online dating and i never thought i'd do it.  It was almost easier than the whole dating scene.  We got to know each other without all the pretenses...the physical nonsense that sometimes clouds judgement.  We talked online, then text and eventually phone calls that would last well into the night, sharing everything about ourselves.  When my children and i moved back North and were finally able to meet him in person for the first time, it felt natural, like we'd known each other for years.  Eventually we moved in together and a few years later got married.

It was an adjustment for sure, for myself and the kids but he loved me for me and accepted the kids unconditionally.  It was such a new thing to have a man want to hold my hand for no reason other than he wanted to be near me or give me a hug and a kiss just because he wanted to.  Not once in my first marriage had we ever 'cuddled' on the couch  to watch a movie.    But oh how wonderful it is :)

My new husband has given me a new lease on life for myself and my children  Of course mixing families...his kids and her kids...it's challenging to say the least and we have our problems like everyone does but i know he truly loves me and never hesitates to tell me often.  

It's a grand thing to be LOVED !

Thanks for stopping by today and i wish you love throughout your life !!!

*    *    *    *    *

Born and raised in Northern Indiana, Krista now resides in Northern Lower Michigan.  She is married to a very supportive man, Chip, who allows her to follow her true passion of writing and never complains when she is pirated away on her computer for hours.  He even helps with proof-reading and is her “in-house” editor and her idea sounding board.  She is also a mother of 4 ornery children who keep her plenty busy.  With an addition of 2 beautiful chocolate lab sisters and 2 playful cats, there is never a dull or spare moment in her household. 

Krista has always loved to read and would often sit up for hours into the night not able to put down a book until she was finished.  She still reads when she can but her main focus is creating her own stories to share with the world. 

She loves to communicate with her readers so please feel free to drop her a line anytime at krista@kristaames.com or visit her website,  blog or Amazon Author page.

2 Sexy Reads with Gut Wrenching Emotion #99cents #RB4U @AuthorNicMorgan

Welcome to Romance Books 4 Us everyone. I'm your tour guide for the day, Nicole Morgan and as some of you may have noticed I drop by with a new post on the first of every month and either ramble like a fool or amaze you with my intellect. LOL. Okay, yes that last one was a stretch, but...I've got you smiling now, don't I? Now that you're good and loosened up, go ahead and kick your shoes off, sit back, relax and enjoy!

2 Sexy Reads with Gut Wrenching Emotion

Today I could talk to you about our October theme here on RB4U. I could even go on about the month's flower or gem. But I'm not going to do that this month. This time I'm going to veer a little off of my usual course and come clean about something that some of you may not know about me. And with this being the month of October, the month that the ghosts and goblins come out to play and spook us down to our very soul it is that much more appropriate. 

You see, I'm a bit of a spook-a-holic. I like all things scary and creepy. You won't catch me watching a chick flick but you will catch me watching a suspense filled action movie. So, then... why do I write romance you ask? Well, I am a romantic at heart. I believe in love an all that mushy stuff. But I need more in my stories. And I think that's why every single book I write will have something more than just a tale of love. Whether it be suspense, action, a stalker, killer on the loose or even a heartache so gut wrenching that it brings you to tears, I cannot help but add a little something extra. 

But back to my obsession with all things scary. You see, I like murder plots. I like who done its. I like wondering if there's someone hiding in the heroine's closet as she walks in after a hard days work. And it's because of this that I feel I've strayed a bit in my last few books. While writing really raw emotional stories can be good for the soul, I miss writing the shocking tale that leaves the readers jaws dropping open in shock. 

So, in the words of David Bowie, in the coming months I will be making some Ch-ch-ch-changes...

Until then, please check out two of my titles which are on sale for only 99 cents right now (please see the links below)

★•*¨*•★ ONLY 99 cents ★•*¨*•★

MAKE ME MELT by Nicki Day

Newly divorced, Vicky Browning is coming home for the holidays for the first time in years. After losing her supposed friends in her recent divorce, she has nowhere else to go and tries to make the best out of the situation.

U.S. Marine, Michael Barnett just set his boots down on American soil for the first time in eighteen months. He wants nothing more than to go home to his humble mountain home, drink a few beers, and fish the rest of the year away. Michael’s mother has other plans though, and insists he come home to spend Christmas with those who love him.

Michael and Vicky haven’t seen one another in seventeen years. Their last meeting was less than enjoyable as they said goodbye to one another in a bitter break up at the tender age of eighteen years old. As the awkwardness settles between the two they soon begin to realize that the flames of desire haven’t died between them. The wounds they thought had never healed, might just be the very thing that brings them together again. 

http://www.amazon.com/Make-Me-Melt-Nicki-Day-ebook/dp/B00RCFFFPG/

https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-makememelt-1714143-149.html#

★•*¨*•★ ONLY 99 cents ★•*¨*•★
REMIND ME by Nicole Morgan

After 12 years of marriage, Priscilla Blackwood has decided to leave her husband. Retreating to their mountain cabin, she hopes the time away will help heal the heartache she feels from leaving the only man she’s ever loved. 

When Max Blackwood returns home to find out that his wife has left him he is devastated. Refusing to give up on her or the life they’ve built together, he sets out to find her before it is too late. When a winter storm hits, his plan to rescue their marriage careens off course. 

Will being stranded together in a blizzard be enough to repair their broken relationship? Or will Max be forced to say goodbye to the woman who stole his heart so many years ago. 

http://www.amazon.com/Remind-Me-Romance-Nicole-Morgan-ebook/dp/B00PPE2GZI

https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-remindme-1681979-149.html

Find all of my other books on any of these fine retailers: 

Amazon

iTunes

Kobo

Google Play

Barnes & Noble

That's all for me this months, guys and gals. 

I'll see you here next month,

Same bat time...Same bat channel.

Nicole Morgan is an author of erotic romance novels, which more often than not have a suspenseful back story. Erotic romance mixed with good old-fashioned whodunit. While she's written everything from contemporary to paranormal her leading men will more than likely be wearing a uniform of some kind. From military to police officers, she has a love for writing about those who protect and serve. From her very first novel about Navy SEALs to her more recent releases you will be sure to find a few twists and turns you were not expecting.

She also has a recurring monthly column in Book & Trailer Showcase's eMagazine, is a proud member of the Romance Books 4 Us Gold Authors, as well as Sweet and Sexy Divas. 

Find out more about Nicole and her books by visiting her website, blog, Google + Page, Twitter, Facebook and her Yahoo Group, Nicole’s Think Tank.

Keep up to date with Nicole:

http://AuthorNicMorgan.com (site currently being updated)
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