ALL DARK INDISCRETIONS BOOKS ON SALE! GET THEM WHILE YOU CAN! They are either FREE, 99 cents, or $1.49!Also on #kindleunlimted End Aug. 28th!
Amazon – http://amzn.to/29GFOSS
ALL DARK INDISCRETIONS BOOKS ON SALE! GET THEM WHILE YOU CAN! They are either FREE, 99 cents, or $1.49!Also on #kindleunlimted End Aug. 28th!
Amazon – http://amzn.to/29GFOSS
Chicago Police Detective Brooke Chandler is keeping a secret…and if she’s not careful, it could get her killed.
Brooke is no stranger to the supernatural. In Chicago, vampires are just as prevalent as drug lords, and infinitely more bloodthirsty. So when her partner and fiancé dies in a mysterious fire while chasing down a lead in Salem, she suspects something dark and otherworldly is at play.
Blessed with the ability to see into the past by touching inanimate objects, Brooke transfers to the Salem PD, hoping her talent will help her get to the bottom of things. Between dodging assassination attempts and being stonewalled at every turn, the going is tough. Add in a mysterious fae club owner with secrets of his own and a personal grudge against her, and it becomes nearly impossible.
If Brooke wants to play in the supernatural sandbox, she’s going to have to roll up her sleeves and get dirty. But how many people will have to die for Brooke to discover the truth?
Find out what lurks in the SHADOWS OF SALEM by pre-ordering SHADOW BORN, the latest Urban Fantasy hit our ARC readers are comparing to Karen Marie Moning and Patricia Briggs.
“They’re conniving, manipulative, and take things that don’t belong to them.” Maddock hissed, then shoved to his feet. “Such as the fae that have been going missing recently.”
“Well, I can’t argue with that,” I muttered, eyeing him warily. He was glaring at me, as if this were somehow my fault. “But how do you know it’s the witches doing this? A symbol on a wall isn’t what I call concrete evidence.”
Maddock crossed his arms and glared down at me, making my heart jump into my throat. “So yer defending them now? Somehow I’m not surprised.”
His sarcastic tone was so accusatory that his behavior suddenly made sense. All the animosity, the condemning glares…
“You think I’m a witch, don’t you?” I jabbed a finger at him. “That’s why you don’t like me, and why you always look at me like I’m a piece of shit stuck to your shoe.”
“I dinnae know what ye are,” Maddock growled, clamping his hand around my forearm. “Aside from a heaping of trouble. But right now, I need ye, which is why I’m tolerating yer presence in this city. Now let’s get going already. I’ve something to show ye.”
Want to read more? PreOrder for $0.99 today!
“This paranormal urban fantasy is full of action, twists and turns, and suspense along with a bit of romance. The strong and engaging characters are well developed as is the fast paced plot. I highly recommend to all who love reading this type of story and especially to fans of Laurell K. Hamilton, Karen Marie Moning, Sherriyn Kenyon, or Patricia Briggs.” – Jo Anne Vincenti
I was really taken with this first book in a hopefully long series. There was plenty of action, and the plot moved along so swiftly, you were at the end without realizing it, a mark of a good book. I really didn’t want it to end and really want to read the next one. I found the book similar to Nalini Singh’s Archangel series, Yasmine Galenorn’s Otherworld series, and Kim Harrison’s Hollows series. I highly recommend this book; it is so worth it!” – PenKay
“I preordered Shodow Born and could not wait for it to come out. Then when I heard it being compared to Laurell K Hamilton’s Anita Blake series I was skeptical but even more excited. This is hard for me to say but I think I love it even more. I can not wait for the next book in the series and what Brook Chandler does next.” – sarapinn0704
“She finds many discrepancies with those around her in the station and people surrounding her. Just when you think you know what is going to happen another curve ball is thrown at you. This has the hallmark of becoming a great series, Fans of the Mercy Thompson, Kate Daniels and Allie Beckman series will want to add this one as well.” – Amazon Customer
“This book reminds me of early Anita Blake. Great pacing and action, with a rich setting and well-drawn characters. Brooke is a strong lead and Maddock is great as the engimatic, ancient Fae she is drawn to despite her best efforts not to be. I can see this series becoming one of the big UF hitters as the story unfolds in subsequent books.” – Charity Vandehey
“Be prepared, the kids won’t get fed and hell you may not even remember what they are wearing to school in the morning because you’ve been clueless to everything else.” – Amazon Customer
|BONUS BOOK 2 – SHADOW MARKED SPECIAL $0.99 PREORDER 10/28|
What happens when a pack mate is murdered?
After Scarlet finds out she is pregnant, disaster strikes with the loss of one of their own. Scarlet struggles to come to terms with her impending motherhood she must find her place next to her mates.
When Alen continues to change women to wolves without their permission, the alphas must put an end to him. With new pack laws, Rift and Oscar only have 30 days before the mayor steps in. Everyone wants peace to be restored but will they be able to stop Alen? Or will the Mayor have to make good on his threat? Find out more in Shifting Tactics- Part Two
***This is an erotica novella series and is meant to be read in order***
About the Author:
McKayla loves to write books about sexy werewolves. She is a stay at home mom of two in the state of Wyoming. Born in California, she misses the hot weather all of the time. Her goals for the year was to publish her new series, Shifting Tactics. Mom of two little ones can take time but she is pushing to finish her work to get more books out for her lovely fans.
Ever since she was little she wanted to be a writer but doubters said that it would be impossible to make money at it. She is pushing herself hard to show them they are wrong.
“You’re pregnant, Scarlet,” Rift said, a smile beaming from his face. A wave of nausea hit, making Scarlet’s stomach squeeze, her throat tighten, and her head spin a little.
Scarlet’s gaze shifted from Oscar to Rift then back again as her brain worked over what Rift said. Her hand instantly touched her abdomen, half expecting some kind of movement to happen.
“Really?” The one word fell from her mouth before she fully formed a better sentence. Knowing damn well not using protection led to this outcome, but she also wasn’t expecting it to happen so fast or the first time. Damn, I was so not expecting it to happen the first freaking time.
“Your scent changed last night.” Rift smiled at her, trying to calm her down.
“It shouldn’t be a big surprise, Scarlet. You have two strong alphas as your mates.” Oscar puffed out his chest. Scarlet glanced outside toward the barn. All the females Alen changed currently lived in there. Her mates decided it was the safest place for them until Alen was captured. They were all under direct orders not to hunt for the dickhead. Her mates were worried if they placed the females in a home, Alen would kill them. She couldn’t wait for the girls to be out of the barn and in their own home.
Thinking about Ava and her pregnancy brought Scarlet back to earth. Nausea hit like a truck, but she managed to push down the urge to vomit. Changing the topic seemed like a better option than hurling her breakfast up. Her hand rubbed small circles on her stomach while she swallowed hard. Inhaling through her nose and exhaling through her mouth helped her upset stomach.
“Is it safe to go to the store?” She watched both of their bodies instantly tense up. Oscar clenched his fist.
“No,” Oscar said without hesitation.
“I have agreed to stay home till this Alen guy is caught, but I am getting a little stir crazy, and it is my store. I need to make sure my employees are well and everything is in order.” Spending the last two weeks cooped up in the house was driving her insane. Yes, the home was spacious, but she had finished four books on her reading list and cleaned everything in the building including the two sheds out back.
“Out of the question,” Oscar growled.
McKayla Schutt ©2016
Knowing what you know now of writing, publishing, and putting your art out into the world, if you could go back to the day you sat down to start typing in your very first manuscript, what words would you offer to yourself? Words of encouragement? Words of advice? Caution against certain pitfalls? Would you change anything about how you got to where you are today?
The publishing community is so much bigger than it was before the self-publishing boom and it continues to grow exponentially every day. Unfortunately, it doesn’t come with a handbook or support group. #AmWriting is a collection of letters written by authors from all different corners of the publishing community. The letters provide words of encouragement or advice to those just starting out or those who have become discouraged in their art. At Pure Textuality PR, we believe in supporting each other as a community, and we felt this project would be a good way to bring writers together and maybe give some new artists just the right nudge to keep going.
100% of the net proceeds of #AmWriting will be donated to The Wayne Foundation, a charity dedicated to offering aid and services to young women victimized by illegal sexual exploitation and the sexual trafficking of minors. For more information about The Wayne Foundation, you can visit them on the web at http://waynefdn.org.
#AmWriting has a great list of more than 60 authors, including NYT bestselling author Jeaniene Frost!
The Wayne Foundation is committed to spreading awareness of CSEC (Commercial Sex Exploitation of Children) DMST (Domestic Minor Sexual Trafficking) occurring within the United States.
The Wayne Foundation’s vision is for a world without child slavery. We are dedicated to providing direct assistance to those victimized by exploitation.
Drop in Center
The Wayne Foundation operates the third drop in center in Florida recognized by the Department of Children and Family Services. It is located in Charlotte County Florida, and serves clients throughout Southwest Florida. Our target clientele are young women aged 13-25. Our DIC is equipped to provide daily services that include, but are not limited to: Food, New Clothing, Access to Shower, Media Center, Mental Health Assistance, SNAP/ Medicare Benefit sign-up/renewal, Family Counseling, Education Assistance, and Transportation To and From the Center.
The Wayne Foundation continues to have the goal of providing shelter services to young women victimized by exploitation or trafficking. This is our primary long term objective.
One smart witch and three sexy wolves tell a story of love, lies and rejection. All Shavone Gentil wants is to find her runaway sister. When witchcraft fails to provide the answers, she resorts to the last resort — getting a job at the Denver Dollhouse. Shav gets answers, but to questions she didn’t even know to ask. In love and in lust with Shavone since childhood, all Nash LaFontaine wants is her safety, her body and her heart. Responsible and noble, the giant alpha waited so long. Did he wait too long? All Ben LaFontaine wants is to do his duty as a French wolf. He comes to Denver to do just that. His first assignment is to help his cousin Nash protect the witch. Little does he know the power she’ll wield over him. All Enrique Cruz wants, all he’s ever wanted, is Shavone. There’s a night from hell that the Native alpha will never forget, the horrors of which his obsession is just beginning to remember. Who will get they want and whose heart will shatter? Note: Due to strong language and mature content, this Wolven Moon Novel is recommended for adults ONLY.
Although Soft Shatter has all the elements I love in the books I read, it never fully grasped my attention. Instead of sprinting through it, it was more of a leisurely stroll. In other words I liked. Our female MC is on a mission and she won’t let anyone in her way to achieve said mission. But there are secrets, that not even she knows about but those around her do. She’s the center of attention for three wolves who all want her for themselves. Ms. Miller takes the reader on a journey of twists and turns. With that being said I still would read more works by this author. Personally I saw nothing wrong with the voice, pace, or dynamics of Soft Shatter, it just didn’t come out the gate popping with me. While I enjoyed this read it just never had me in a rush to just finish it right this minute. Instead it was a book that would be read while waiting for a much more anticipated favorite series or author. That being said BRAVO to Ms. Miller for doing what she loves and bringing her unique voice to the world of literature. Lovers of paranormal would do well to add this to their collection.
My hands over Shavone’s, I tighten my hoodie around her. She needs to keep it on — cover that beautiful, tempting ass of hers. I indicate the dart board with a nod. “Are you an ace at that, too?” She shakes her head. “No. I’ve never played darts before.” “Hallelujah.” I throw my head back. “Maybe I can win a portion of my pride back.” I run my hands up her waist and around to her back. “Will you let me teach you?” Yes, kitten, that was an innuendo. I want to teach you a lot of things. The increase in feminine pheromone and blushing smile means she got my drift. Fuck. My dick twitches. I don’t know how much more of her I can take. “Okay,” she’s says, eyes on my mouth. I lick my lips. You want some of this? Dilated eyes say yes just before they glance away. “Sir?” She calls across the bar and once she has the old man’s attention, motions that the pool table is all his. He waves his thanks. Touching her back, I usher her to the dartboard. “I love this song.” She rocks her shoulders. There’s music? I pause to listen. Sade softly sings something about giving the kiss of life. “You like this old shit?” I tease her, pulling the darts from the board. “Hey.” She giggles. “Yes. I like soul — old and new.” She throws out that bottom lip, again. “Don’t make fun of me.” “Never, kitten. You have excellent taste in music.” The broad grin that spreads across her sweet face wraps another string around my heart. And her swaying hips? Those put another quart of blood in my dick. She is something. Beautiful and sweet and sensual. I wonder how she’ll react when she finds out I’m lying to her just as Nash is. And she’ll find out. No doubt. She’s digging in the right place. She’ll be angry. I have no doubt about that either. That we’re doing this to keep her out of the clutches of the hunters won’t make a bit of difference. How strange to feel remorse before the fact. The only chance I’ll have is to get under her skin and fast. “Why the sad look?” She asks me. I affect an exaggerated shocked expression. “You gotta ask, lady who handed me my ass in pool?” “Sorry.” She exaggerates a giggle into her hand. She isn’t sorry at all. “Well, now you can trounce me.” Fuck. Was that a euphemism, kitten? “At darts,” she quickly adds. “I wouldn’t be very gallant, using your word, if I did that.” “No, you wouldn’t.” She gives me her coquettish smile. “You think batting those lashes at me will save you?” I laugh. “A girl can hope.” “You showed no mercy. I show no mercy.” I grin. “That’s the way the game works.” I move behind her, and, with a hand at her hip, begin to murmur the rules into her ear. Jesus. Her scent. I inhale a lung full of it. “This” — I toe a length of tape on the floor — “is the throw line. You cannot step over it when you throw.” “What about my arm?” “Good question.” I playfully squeeze her bicep, again. “Yes, your buffed arm can cross it.” I feel her smile. “I prefer the word ‘toned’.” “Kitten, you are so toned.” I nuzzle her hair. “Now, stop distracting me.” She giggles and I grin. This is fun. She’s fun. The rest of the rules, what there are of them, are fairly simple. I run through them quickly. “Let’s do a few practice throws.” I motion her aside and, when she’s safely out of the way, throw my darts. One lands dead center of the bull’s-eye and the other two in the interior ring, quarter inch from the bull’s-eye. She laughs. “This is going to be bad.” “Aw, c’mon. Positive thinking.” I move out of the way and bow for her to take my place at the line. Lifting her chin, she shakes her hair out of the way and narrows her eyes at the board in concentration. Hot and sexy, smart and sharp. No man can resist that. Sorry, Nash. I glance over at him. His eyes pierce me with an anger he normally saves for enemies and rival packs. Cherie grins at me. Shavone’s first throw lands on the board, but in the number ring. No score. The second lands in the fat single score ring and the third misses the board completely. The music clicks over to a sexy strong drumbeat that Shavone seems to like, too. I walk to the board to extract our darts. Ah, it’s John Mayer. I almost laugh out loud at the lyrics. I’m not the man I used to be either, John. Shavone smiles at me as I walk back to her. Rocking her hips, she sings along to the music. “Not bad.” I hand her her darts. “You’ve got pretty good form for a newbie. Can I show you a better way?” She nods enthusiastically. “Yes, please.” I lay my darts on a nearby table. “Let’s work on your stance, first.” Stop writhing that body, kitten. “Okay.” She stands still. Taking my sweet ass time and with a caressing touch, I position her body — feet there, hips like this, shoulders like that, hands like this. I’m disappointed when I’m done arranging her. She looks up at me through her lashes, a flirty smile on her lips. I stifle a growl. Moving back behind her, I drag my hand down her arm to her hand. “Holding the dart is an art,” I whisper in her ear — trying hard not to imagine her soft hand gripping my dick. “Two fingers forward on the stem, like this.” I manipulate her slender fingers. “And your thumb here near the back of the dart.” Understanding, she nods. Her brow furrowed, she concentrates so hard. “You want to extend your arm, pointing the tip of the dart where you’d like it to stick.” Placing my cheek directly on her temple, my hand over hers, I raise the dart in front of her face. “Stare down the tip and bring the dart straight back in front of your face,” I say. “Don’t hold it here, by your ear. You can’t see where it’s going if it’s beside your head.” I let go of her hand and hold her at the waist. “Do it now, but don’t throw it yet.” While she lines up the dart, I dip my nose into her hair and inhale deeply — not caring if she hears it. My voice is thick when I speak again. “We’ll do a couple of practice movements. Don’t let go of the dart, though.” “Okay,” she says softly. My left hand glides from her hip to ribs while my right hand wraps around hers and the dart. My wolf wants you so bad.
1. Aside from The Hubs, no one else close to me (friends, family, coworkers) knows that I write paranormal erotic romance as Dany Rae Miller. Shhhh. 2. My paternal grandmother was Amish. When she met my grandfather during her Rumspringa, she left her family and community for him. 3. When I was eight, Highlights magazine published a story I wrote about my grandparents’ love story. It was my first published romance! 4. Back in ninth grade, my science teacher assigned homework by telling us to “write a ten page paper on dinosaurs.” I raised my hand. “What kind of paper?” I asked. “Any kind you want,” he said. So, I went home and wrote a short sci-fi story about dinosaurs. I got an A, my first A ever in any science class. 5. I’m a published young adult fantasy/sci-fi author under a different pen name. 6. In the early 2000s, I won the grand prize in an international screenplay competition with my very first script. 7. I’m a Joss Whedon groupie. 8. I fantasize about Whedon reading and liking my work. Do you think he reads erotic romance? 9. After a concert and before he was famous, I made out with Keith Urban for about ten minutes. A band member pulled him away to get on the bus. 10. My Hubs kisses way better than Urban.
The sweet scent that I have been looking forward to is not what walks into the Dollhouse. Rage seizes my wolf, his internal roar louder than the music pounding through the lounge. Three young wolves sitting at the bar wisely get up and move away. “Leave, Enrique.” Antonio insists. Shavone’s luxurious essence steeped in French stench. My beast bays a forlorn cry, a true physical agony joining the fury. How is it possible? What happened to the spell? “Enrique,” my brother hisses. “Go.” It’s too late to escape. I feel, and smell, Shavone behind me. “Mr. Cruz.” Steeling my heart and keeping a tight hold on the angry beast, I spin the stool from facing the bar to facing the little witch. She correctly gauges my wrath and steps back. “You’re too early,” I say, careful to control the volume and tone of my voice. “Oh.” She frowns, confused, her eyes dart between mine. “I came in early to do makeup. I assumed I had to be ready to work at four, but I can wait in my car.” “That isn’t necessary,” I growl, attempting to squash the burning jealousy. “Hi, Sara.” Antonio, using her Dollhouse name, draws her attention away from me. “Welcome to your first night.” “Thank you,” she murmurs. Antonio babbles some encouraging words while she nods and converses with him. My wolf identifies the male odor on her skin as belonging to LaFontaine. I’m going rip him to shreds. Never mind that he somehow got around a spell crafted by a powerful family ally. The detective took advantage of his official protector status while my wolf remains sidelined by the Alliance. It boils my wolven blood violently, muscles coil ready to shift. I use every ounce of control I have to contain my beast. You are mine,the wolf bursts into my eyes. Shavone chooses that moment to return her gaze to me. With a sharp inhale, her eyes widen. Antonio bugs his eyes out at me. “Have you ever tended bar?” He attempts to draw her attention back to him, but her gaze is locked on my angry wolf. I force him back, fight to get him into his cage and lock the door. Am I an alpha or an omega? The animal shreds my insides. “Hello?” Antonio waves his hand in front of the witch’s face. Shaking her head and turning it toward my brother, her pink lips part to speak. Before she can, the night shift manager joins us. “Is this our newest doll?” “Yes,” I say. “Tanya, Sara. She’s sharing a dressing room with Paulina who is also her trainer.” Shavone offers a hand to shake. The movement sends more French stink up my nostrils. Hands in fists, I stand. “I have personally selected several costumes for you, Sara. Choose one of them to wear tonight.” It is not a request. “And put on some damn perfume.” “This way, Sara.” Tanya turns. The little witch blinks at me a few times before following the manager across the lounge. No surprise that practically every pair of eyes follows. Shavone in jeans is more enticing than the naked woman writhing on stage. Just as she goes through the curtain, Shavone glances back at me, head tilted, brow creased. “You haven’t been a monk either.” Antonio slings a towel over his shoulder. “What the fuck does that mean?” Restraining the wolf burns my eyes. “Don’t expect a healthy young woman to be a nun.” He puts a glass under the tap and draws a beer. My beast snarls. “Go punch something and cool off.” I flip him off on my way to the door. Outside, the fence behind the Dollhouse takes my wrath. I recall the last time I found Shavone with another — the night I discovered her and Monbeau. The bastard heard my growl, smirked at me, taunted me as he fondled between her legs. “No, Enrique!” Only Agustin tackling me mid-charge prevented me from ripping Monbeau’s dick off at that moment. Uncle had followed me, apparently had done so since the first of my visits to check on my witch. The noise of our scuffle alerted French sentinels. Uncle, with his superior speed and strength, got us out of the canyon before they arrived. Once on our own territory, Uncle cuffed me to a granite wall. “Enrique, the Monbeau clan has an impressive record. They’ve not lost a creole witch in the past 100 years,” he had said. “Because of his heritage, I should let him fuck her?!” I pulled at the chains, altering between human and wolf so quickly my muscles ached as badly as my heart. “Yes. If her well-being is a priority to you. Is it?” The beast in me roared, torn by the damned-if-I-do, damned-if-I-don’t options. “With him by Shavone’s side day in and day out, you’re assured of her protection. The Alliance chose him for a reason.” “What if she mates with him?” I had gritted out between my teeth as my beast once again twisted my bones. Days later uncle returned with a family friend, a witch. I lay on the ground, naked and limp from shifting uncontrollably. “Help him, Kennedy,” he begged her. She performed a spell relieving my wolf of his jealous agony. As it were, uncle’s faith in Monbeau was well placed. The punk saved her — rescuing her from the fire. I was on the other side of the state, called to Durango by my sister for an emergency that wasn’t as dire as she had made it sound. Had Monbeau not been in Colorado Springs with Shavone, she would have perished, the thought more unbearable than my own death. For that, the French wolf reluctantly earned my gratitude. Nevertheless, upon his death, I went to the Alliance, pleading for the assignment as Shavone’s protector. They refused, bringing LaFontaine back into her life even though the bastard had abandoned her once before. I threatened to challenge him, was on my way to do so. Kennedy convinced me otherwise. She used witchcraft to limit Shavone’s sex drive. “It’s better than a wolf war,” Kennedy had said. “And drawing attention to a Soft witch.” The fence in ruins, I call Kennedy now. “What happened to your spell?” “You’ll have to be more specific, Enrique.” “Shavone let LaFontaine fuck her.” “What?” Kennedy gasps. “I bound your touch as the terminus. Either she discovered the hex and removed it or” — When I interviewed her. “You didn’t tell me I couldn’t touch her.” Kennedy hisses. “In order to have touched her you needed to have been in contact with her. Which, of course, is completely against Alliance orders.” The fault is mine. I did this. I released her libido. Now there is only one remedy. I have to make her mine. “Fuck the Alliance.” I hang up on Kennedy.
The Flaming Lips – Fight Test
Kiss of Life – Sade
I Don’t Trust Myself – John Mayer
Al Green – Tired of Being Alone
Rufus – Tell me something Good
Earth Wind and Fire – Greatest Hits, Sing a Song; Reasons
Corinne Bailey Rae — Trouble Sleeping
Leela James – Music
Kristina Train – Dark Black
Corinne Bailey Rae – Put Your Records On
I’m Dany Rae Miller and I believe in the power of love. I believe that love ~ real, unconditional, soulful devotion ~ can change who you are as a person. It can change you from shy to open, wary to trusting, scared to brave, running in circles to holding on to your rock. Young and naive, believing I was in love, I married right out of high school. Three years later, I was a brokenhearted, single mom of a toddler. Fast forward two more years to another sweetheart turned asshole and my faith in love was lost. Done with boys, I built a life for my child and me by myself. It wasn’t easy, but I grew up and learned how to stand on my own two feet. I didn’t need a man, I reasoned, I’ve got my confidence. In my mid twenties, I wanted to up my earning power and decided to go to college, setting my sights on journalism school. It was then, when I wasn’t looking for him, that the love of my life walked into a college speech class and sat down next to me. The right person at the right time changes everything and mends even the most shattered trust. I am living proof. That’s what I try to put into my novels. When I’m at the computer writing, life is golden. It just doesn’t get any better than weaving sometimes euphoric and sometimes gut-wrenching tales of erotic romance. In former lives, I was an advertising rep, then, a property manager. After college, I became a TV producer, and an award-winning screenwriter. Now, I conjure sexy love stories from thin air. It’s a tough job, but someone’s gotta do it. I do it from my home in spectacular Colorado (a location featured prominently in my stories) where I live with my wonderful husband and two affectionate kitties.
Newsletter signup: http://eepurl.com/TnoF5 You’ll want to sign, because starting in February, I’m posting book two in the Wolven Moon series on my website for free. You’ll need a password to access it. www.DanyRaeMiller.com | FB personal profile | FB Author Page | Twitter | Email: DanyRaeMiller@gmail.com
Wrong place. Wrong time. Right people.
Jessie Bravo knows what’s wrong with her life; she just doesn’t know what to do about it. Eleven years ago, she saved Tyler Cantrell from getting his ass kicked by gay-bashing high school jocks. Since, they’ve been the closest of friends. Years later, Jessie circled the drain of chronic depression, spiraling out of control, and it was Tyler’s turn to save her. Who knew her best friend would become a Hollywood A-lister? Though Jessie credits Tyler for keeping her together, living in the shadow of her best friend’s celebrity isn’t all it’s cut out to be. It’s up to Jessie to figure out what she has to do to be happy: get better or get lost.
Stardom is on the horizon for British television actor Boyd Kerrington. He’s starring opposite Tyler Cantrell in an American feature film sure to blow his career out the water. For all the years he’s focused on his career, however, he’s settled in his personal life. That is, until he meets Tyler’s best friend, Jessie. Jessie is refreshingly cool, passionate, and compelling…but she’s also complicated. Worse yet, she’s not interested in remaining in the celebrity stratosphere, even for her lifelong friend.
“What was that?” Tyler said in a hoarse whisper.
Wide-eyed, his face shimmered as if he’d been doused with glitter under a blinding white spotlight. Dumbstruck, Jessie remained staring into the gaping hole of the universe where Boyd Kerrington sat only seconds earlier.
“That was…” Jessie struggled to get out even those two words, and she couldn’t think of another to follow them.
That was Boyd Fucking Kerrington. It was Boyd who’d stopped her world spinning on its axis for a suspended series of seconds that, for all she knew, could have lasted a whole year. She’d acted a brat and he’d thought it funny. When she realized she was embarrassing herself in front of Boyd, she stopped dead in her tracks and swallowed her pride, painfully.
Then their eyes met. She’d looked at him dead in the eyes a million times, but those instances had all been through the television. Sure, those eyes were the same—icy blue like a frozen-over lake in the dead of winter—but they weren’t Astor Welles’s eyes this time; they were something altogether new and different. For the first time in weeks, she felt something other than a vacuum of nothingness.
While he looked away, returning to his breakfast, Jessie watched him, for the first time free of the veneer his character. But he avoided her gaze, keeping his attention, instead, on Tyler.
Layers of stage makeup and all the smart hairstyling of Astor Welles peeled away to reveal a real human being with complicated expressions and a wealth of idiosyncrasies. Despite his severe, angular features, Boyd’s manner was approachable, even a little bit sweet. His voice was the same, but the cadence wasn’t. Astor Welles cut through steel with a crisp arrogant timbre as much as with his cheekbones’ daring angles. Boyd Kerrington wasn’t as clipped.
Sensing she was doing nothing to benefit her friend’s morning with him, Jessie excused herself.
“I have some writing to do,” she said, standing and stepping toward the sliding glass door.
Though she expected Boyd would relax a little at her departure, he reared to face her with an unmistakable tinge of remorse. She bit into her lip and reiterated her need to get to work. Boyd nodded shortly, his handsomely sloppy curls lifting in the breeze for a second before settling down again. Tyler said something that sounded like “Good idea,” but that melded with the white noise of Vancouver.
“It was… to meet you.” Red with embarrassment, she tucked into the suite and shuffled into her bedroom, slamming the door behind her.
With no one watching her, she banged her head against the door. Boyd Kerrington was currently sitting on the balcony of her suite, talking with Tyler over cigarettes and a king’s brunch feast. Rather than join them, Jessie relegated herself to the bed. She curled up beneath the comforter, fully clothed, and stared into the oblivion of her private bathroom.
1. Miss Misery, Elliot Smith
2. Brand New Friend, Lloyd Cole and the Commotions
3. Dear Catastrophe Waitress, Belle & Sebastian
4. Ever Fallen in Love (With Someone You Shouldn’t Have)?, Buzzcocks
5. I Shatter, Magnetic Fields
6. Can’t Hardly Wait, The Replacements
7. Cactus, Pixies
8. Stay Out of Trouble, Kings of Convenience
9. Never Talking to You Again, Husker Du
10. A New England, Billy Bragg
11. International Small Arms Traffic Blues, The Mountain Goats
12. Screaming at a Wall, Minor Threat
13. Andy’s Chest, Lou Reed
14. I Think She’s Starting to Like Me, The Queers
15. Long-forgotten Fairy Tale, Magnetic Fields
16. Rudie Can’t Fail, The Clash
Listen via Spotify
Cristy Rey is the author of the romantic urban fantasy Incarnate series. Taking Back Sunday, Trail of Dead, and the prequel novelette, Edge of Seventeen, were released in 2014. The third full-length installment, Wolf Parade, will be released in 2015. She also writes and publishes unconventional romantic women’s fiction. Weeping Angels and her second, Heart Grow Fonder are available now.
Cristy lives in Miami, FL where she is a reader and writer most of the time, and a knitter much less of the time than she was six months before she took up writing again. She writes the books that she likes to read. She describes her writing style as riot grrrl Jane Austen sprinkled with a little magic. There’s always a killer soundtrack running in the background of her novels – all you need to do is turn to the playlist to know what’s up.
Find Cristy Online
Get Cristy’s Books
It’s been a long fall semester but I managed to escape unscathed. Now it’s time to get back to the writing part of my life. I have so many book projects I want to work on but have no idea where to start…here is a quick list of what I have planned for 2015…this is subject to change though…
We All Fall Down
Looking for Love
Phoenix Awakening Prequel
I will also be releasing the first 3 Dark Indiscretions books in a box set and it will have special content and an extended exclusive look at Seer Destined as you patiently wait for it to be released which hopefully will be before my March signings 🙂
Here is the cover I’ve come up with for it…
Buy Links: Links will not work until the book goes LIVE
Amazon CA: http://goo.gl/pNMVAj
Amazon UK: http://goo.gl/4TTZii
Amazon AU: http://goo.gl/Yq5jZn
Facebook Release Party: https://www.facebook.com/events/339909029523389/?ref_newsfeed_story_type=regular
Book Trailer: http://youtu.be/LZq7I3tuSdU
****18+ due to adult language and explicit sexual content*****
Caspian Vance~former child prodigy, now an accomplished professor of human sexuality at twenty-six has it all—an IQ that’s off the charts, a stellar career at which he excels, and the drop-dead looks and body that make women spontaneously combust with lust.
He’s been studying sex and women’s behavior since he was sixteen. When it comes to the science of human lust and the rewards of sexual pursuits, he has all the answers.
There’s one thing he knows for sure: “love” has nothing to do with it.
Sex is a basic, primal human need—love is an unstable, emotional complication. Both are present in a person, but completely unrelated. His own world of logic and fact accepts this truth and now. . .
He’s going to prove it.
When Cass takes a sabbatical to research his theory in order to write his third book, he enlists the help of a former lover and now owner of the world’s most exotic and secretive male brothel catering strictly to wealthy older women. On this remote Caribbean island, he uses his keen sense of observation and research to prove “love” is merely a series of chemical reactions in the human brain—nothing more.
Nicola Barrington~ had the perfect life, married to her soul mate.Ten years into her one and only relationship, her idyllic world is shattered by the death of her beloved husband. The loss of her “one true love” sends her into seclusion where she spends the next eleven years pining for the man she still loves.
The beautiful heiress, stays hidden away, her only connection to the outside world being being the hired help and her two close friends. Her friends know Nic has much to live for and are eager to see her find love again. . . and if not love, they would settle for her rediscovering the throes of lust.
As her 40th birthday approaches, her two friends succeed in coaxing her out of her emotionally safe haven to celebrate with a trip to an exclusive resort known for “restoring an older woman’s brilliant, inner glow.”
Caspian’s superiority and logic combined with Nic’s innocence and melancholy are on an imminent collision course. Sometimes even a genius has a hard time figuring out a woman.