Wednesday, October 7, 2015

Interview: Foxoddness by Maureen O. Betita

Please share a little about yourself, your genres, any other pen names you use.

I’m Maureen O. Betita. I have a distant niece in the Phillipines, so the O. is needed or you’ll find her on Facebook and think I have an aging portrait in the attic. I’m in my fifth decade and have lived in California all my life. Presently, I’m on the central coast and loving it. I’m into the third decade of my marriage and met my husband in high school.

I’m a writer who isn’t afraid to create worlds in many genres, though it makes me hard to categorize. And it’s hell on knowing where to promote and market. I do have a penname, under which I publish the more salacious stories of my repertoire. But beware, Maura Blue has no censor.

Tell us a little about your latest or upcoming release.

Foxoddness is a standalone novel, contemporary, lightly paranormal and erotic. I specify it’s a standalone, as most of my titles are parts of a series. This book features a long married couple and what happens to their life, and marriage, when a new man stirs things up. Until Will knocks on their door, they didn’t know magic existed.

Are you a mom?

Only of a continual line of dogs and/or cats. Which has proven challenging enough that I have my doubts that I would have made a very good people mom.

What would your readers be surprised to learn about you?

Most of the time, I’m actually scared to death. Of everything. But I’m good at facing it down.

When you’re not writing what do you do? Do you have any hobbies or guilty pleasures?

*hangs head – I watch too much television. And Netflix is the bane of my existence. I’m learning how to sew and one day, I hope to discover a love of gardening. (Ha!)

Which romance book or series (or other genre, if you don’t write romance) do you wish you had written?

There’s a few – Kim Harrisons Hollows Series, The Anita Blake books by Laurell K. Hamilton and The Dresden Files by Jim Butcher and… The Miles Vorkosigan Novels of Lois McMaster Bujold. Not just because they are wildly popular, but because they have wondrous characters and worlds.

Of all the characters you’ve ever written, who is your favorite and why?

It really changes from time to time. So much depends on my emotional and mental state. I admire Ria from Essentially Human, for her vulnerability and strength despite her battered heart and mind. I adore Emily from The Kraken’s Caribbean Series, for her sense of humor and loyalty. And I lust after her man, I admit it. When I need a hero to look up to and emulate, I think of Miranda from the Forever A Pirate Series. As a couple, I so love Sarah and Andrew from Foxoddness, for being willing to open up, find and accept magic in their world.

If this book is part of a series…what is the next book? Any details you can share?

I hadn’t planned on making Foxoddness a series, but I’ve been approached by several fans to please, please, please write more! There are a few characters who have stories to be told, so…when I find a window of opportunity, I think I will. My lead has a pair of sisters who really do need to find out what happens for them. A brother and his brother’s daughter have adventures ahead. And maybe, just maybe, his twin sister…

What is next for you? Do you have any scheduled upcoming releases or works in progress?

2016 is going to be mad busy. My two pirate series are reaching their ends. Forever A Pirate in March and The Kraken’s Caribbean likely in January or February. I have a new 5 book series is starting in February, only 5 books long – Irish Magic. (I tend to write long.) There are two big conventions on my side of the Rockies and I hope to attend both, plus a few more on the side. I love going to conventions and having a chance to meet readers and potentially readers, face to face. Happily, they are far enough apart that I should be able to recover my strength between them.
I have several books I hope to finish and publish in 2016. More standalone books, ranging from a dystopian fantasy to horror to romantic suspense. I am ambitious!

Maureen O. Betita

Genre: contemporary erotic paranormal romance

Date of Publication: September 15, 2015

ISBN: 978-1-939914-67-5

Number of pages: 215
Word Count: 78,206

Cover Artist: Barbara Cool Lee

Book Description:

A house by the beach, happily married for over 25 years – what more could Sarah and Andrew Denby need? Yet, something is missing…until Will Bramble knocks on their door. He leads them into a deeper sensuality than they ever imagined.

The lanky redhead figures on a quick seduction, some fun in the sack and moving on. But Sarah’s laughter, Andrew’s strength, and the welcome of their bed, fills the hollow place in his heart.

From the haunted hills of Santa Bella, to the rambling fields of Scotland and the enchantments of Ireland, they discover the powers of physical intimacy, while the legacy of his magic, hidden beneath his human skin, brings their world to life.

Available at Amazon

Casually, Will laid an arm across the back of the bench. “The windows and doors won’t take very long. But if you’d like, we can talk about a few odd jobs. Like repairing this deck. I think the support beams are failing; it’s too spongy. I have the time on my schedule.”
She turned her face toward his hand and inhaled the batch of pheromones he’d set down earlier. Her eyes closed slightly and a tremble ran through her body. The obvious desire for more flew through her. She took another deep breath. He set his drink cup down and turned to face her. When he lifted his hand slightly, she ran a tongue down it, and then flinched back. “Oh! I…uh…” The blush from the coffeehouse rose to a full bloom on her face.
How charming!
“Seems like a good thing to do…” Taking her hand in his, he raised it to his lips and ran his tongue down it, and then sucked several of her fingers into his mouth.
Her eyes widened as she stared at him. “Oh, God. I...want…”
“I like to follow my instincts, Sarah.” Will looked straight into her eyes. He licked at her fingertips before setting that hand at his bulging crotch. With a moan, her eyes lost focus as the pheromones took hold. Will kept still when she pushed off the bench, knelt on the deck, and fought to get his pants open. Her fervor impressed him. She lowered her mouth onto him and sucked like it was the first cock she’d ever touched.
A smidge of guilt ran through him, but the glory of her mouth swept that away. If she hadn’t been inclined, it wouldn’t have worked.
Though he wanted to linger over the encounter, it was best if he delivered this first dose of chemistry speedily. “Damn, that feels so good.” He stroked her hair, let his head drop back and surrendered. She swallowed most of his cum, save for the bit that dribbled down her chin. He smiled and lifted her, opening her shirt and spreading that bit down her cleavage, even painting her nipples with it. “Make sure he sucks them tonight,” he whispered.
Sarah nodded, and he helped her back to the bench, securing her shirt before putting himself back together. He picked up his drink and let her return to herself. His chemistry would make sure she stayed calm. Her memory wasn’t going to argue with what just happened. It would just shuffle it around; probably decide nothing had occurred save a pleasant fantasy.
As he expected, the lovely writer sat up straighter, picking up the conversation from where it left off. “Yeah, the deck. It is a bit spongy. I keep trying to talk Andrew into putting together a shed under there, with a door to the front and the back. And extend it.” She got up and pointed to the box below the deck, giving him a nice view of her ass. “That used to be where the twits before us kept their dogs.” It was as if the small interlude had never taken place.
His imagination sped ahead, picturing her spreading those legs and inviting him to fuck her. Battling the image, he finished his cookies and then told her to check out the bedroom. “You can watch while I get the new window in.”
Standing, she sedately followed him into the bedroom and lay down on the bed to observe him work. He stepped in and out of the room. One of the times he came back in, she’d slipped her hand under the waistband of the baggy jeans she was wearing and began masturbating. Will ignored her and kept talking about the window. When she climaxed, filling the room with her scent, he sat, pulling her hand free and cleaning it off. A small smile lit her face and then she drifted into a late afternoon nap. Her susceptibility boded well for his pursuit. He hoped Andrew was equally inclined. From impressions, he was nearly certain.

About the Author:

Maureen O. Betita believes in the transformative power of sensual encounters. She uniquely blends erotic romantic adventure, plus fantasy/paranormal elements in her books, including The Kraken’s Caribbean series and the Forever A Pirate series.
Pirate Festivals, Steampunk Gatherings, Science Fiction and Fantasy Conventions, Renaissance Faires – these are all within her social sphere and she borrows, steals, and creates stories from her adventures at these venues. Her imagination includes worlds of science fiction romance with three books revolving around the common theme of Alien Encounters; an intricate creation of contemporary erotic fantasy, with Born in Flight; and trips to a slightly alternative side of contemporary Ireland with the upcoming 5 books series, Sex Magic.

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Twitter @maureenobetita

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Warriors of Hir Book 1-3 by Willow Danes

Please share a little about yourself, your genres, any other pen names you use.

I write Historical and Science Fiction Romance but because I have two series going—The Warriors of Hir series and The Tellaran series—I write under the pen name, Willow Danes, and also under my own name, Ariel MacArran.

Tell us a little about your latest or upcoming release.

I just released my first audiobook!  The first in the Hir series, Captured, is now available as an audiobook on Audible, Amazon and iTunes and I’m especially excited to share this version because it was done in a two-narrator format. Adam McLaughlin plays all the men’s roles and Kathryn LaPlante performs all women’s voices. It’s a much more immersive experience for the listener and the narrators have done an amazing job of bringing the characters to life. Adam and Kathryn are in the studio now recording the second book, Taken, while I work on the fourth book of the Tellaran series, The Princess, and the fourth of the Hir series, Hidden.

Are you a mom ?

Yes! I have two amazing boys—Rowan, 13, and Duncan, 10.

If yes do you find it hard to juggle writing and parenting?

Oh, it’s crazy! I was always the ‘wake-up-grab-coffee-and-my-laptop-get-back-in-bed-and-write’ type but you can’t do that when kids need to get to school and lunches need to be made! I’m a single mom now too and I have to make quiet time to write. The boys are very understanding when I’m facing deadlines but it does mean simple dinners and having them pitch in more with dog care—our puppy, Porthos, just turned one!

Is there a theme or message in your work that you would like readers to connect to?

In my novels there is always the theme of the characters being challenged on an inner personal level when they fall in love. It’s hard for everyone to accept how vulnerable love makes them but ironically it’s my human heroines in the Hir series who struggle more with that than the seven-foot tall g’hir warriors!

What would your readers be surprised to learn about you?

I’m a therapist as well as writer. I give all my characters a psychological profile and in some cases—like for Larner Tovic who so unnerves my telepathic heroine, Arissa, in The Seer—a diagnosis.   

When you’re not writing what do you do? Do you have any hobbies or guilty pleasures?

I love to design clothes and sew but most of my creations tend toward the costume-type and fantastical. I’ll see something on Downton Abbey or Game of Thrones or Mad Men that I have to have. It’s a guilty pleasure because they’re really not at all practical but it’s a fun challenge to reverse engineer that clothing since I often have to create a pattern from scratch. Also the time away from the laptop gives my unconscious an opportunity to work on the next novel.:)

Which romance book or series (or other genre, if you don’t write romance) do you wish you had written?

Outlander! But jeez, who doesn’t? :)!

Is there a genre(s) that you’d like to write that you haven’t tackled yet?

I’d love to do some Mysteries. The Tellaran series are all Romances written with a mystery as part of the plot. It’s tough putting enough clues in, but not too many, and I’m lucky to have such an amazing editor, Erin McCabe, author of I Shall Be Near to You, to keep track of all the details with me. We have a ‘Cheat Sheet’ put together for each series to keep track of physical descriptions, ages, clans, etc. and she always calls me out when a plot thread has gotten dropped. There’s a lot to keep straight when you’re working on two series and stand alone books as well!

If this book is part of a series…what is the next book? Any details you can share?

The Hir series’ first book, Captured, introduces the g’hir warriors and their population crisis. The second, Taken, show a bit more of Hir culture, in the third, Stolen, we see the darker side of the g’hir’s new policy of acquiring human women but those novels take place almost entirely in Hir territory. In the upcoming book, Hidden, Ki’san is stranded on Earth, dying from his injuries, when the heroine, Tara, finds him. A lot of Hidden takes place on Earth—this time the warrior is the one thrown into a new world.

What is next for you? Do you have any scheduled upcoming releases or works in progress?

I’ve got so much going on! The audiobook of Taken is slotted for release in November then Adam and Kathryn head into the studio to do Stolen. Audiobooks of the Tellaran novels and my medieval Historical, Another Man’s Bride, are gearing up for production. In the coming months I’ll be releasing The Princess, fourth in the Tellaran series, and Hidden, the next book in the Hir series. I have another Historical in the works and a time-travel I’d love to do.

What book are you reading now? 

I’m a huge history geek! I’m one of those people who just loves curling up with any history book that deals with everyday life. Right now I’m doing research for a Historical Romance set during the Regency. 

Warriors of Hir
Book One
Willow Danes

Genre: Science Fiction Romance/
Paranormal Erotica

Publisher: Here Be Dragons

Date of Publication: August 8, 2014

ISBN: 0692271813
ISBN: 978-0692271810

Number of pages: 218
Word Count: 55,000

Cover Artist: Steven James Catizone

Book Description:

Jenna McNally is tending to the heartrending task of clearing out her grandfather’s cabin when she’s knocked off her feet by the impact of a nearby plane crash. She races into the snowy North Carolina woods to help and discovers that this is no plane that’s crashed.

Ra’kur’s people have been brought to the brink of extinction by war. After years spent searching for a compatible mate to bond with, an enemy attack lands him on a backward, primitive planet and right to the very female he has been seeking. And a Hir warrior’s first task in claiming a mate is to capture her . . .

Available at Amazon
Excerpt Captured
The screaming came from overhead, like metal ripping through the sky.
In the next instant Jenna stumbled, falling onto her hands and knees as the cabin itself seemed to be lifted up a bit before being slammed back down in a puff of dust, the books and boxes and Pap’s many doohickeys rattling around her.
She was gasping, her ears still ringing as the cabin settled into quiet again. Shaking, Jenna eased back onto her haunches, her hand going to the little golden bird charm that hung on a chain around her neck.
Quakes were rare in this part of North Carolina, and besides, she’d felt that tremble, that rumbling, beneath her feet a few times out west and this was nothing like that.
Jenna’s glance darted about the room—the half-packed boxes, the groupings she’d made as she sorted her grandfather’s things into piles of stuff to keep or give away or throw out. Through the cabin’s front window, she caught sight of a far-off spray of snow thrown high into the air and now falling rapidly to the ground. 
When she’d fallen, she’d dropped the framed photo of her and Pap standing in front of The Sweet Tooth on opening day. Thankfully it hadn’t broken, but the faded oval rag rug had done little to protect her knees from the fall and her palms felt raw and scraped.
Shakily Jenna placed the picture on the coffee table, put a hand on the worn red and black plaid sofa, and, wincing, got to her feet. Her right knee was likely going to sport a nasty bruise tomorrow but the couple steps across the living room to the window assured her that would be the worst of it. She frowned out at the sunny, snow-covered landscape, her breath fogging up the windowpane.
 Plane crash, maybe?
There was a tiny airport not far from here. Recently built and meant for small craft—a few of the new, wealthy residents of Brittle Bridge used it when they didn’t want to go to Six Oaks—it was little more than a runway and a couple hangars.
Jenna scanned the woods, looking for smoke, but even the snow had settled now and the mountain seemed peaceful as ever. It took her a moment to realize that the TV that she’d had on to keep her company while she tended to the heartrending task of packing up Pap’s things had gone dark. A quick look at the blinking red light showed the Wi-Fi was out too.
No satellite, no Internet.
“Great,” she muttered, rubbing her forehead with her fingertips. Thinking she could get by fine with just her cell she’d made the mistake of having the landline cut off last week before she realized her fancy—and expensive—new phone didn’t work inside the cabin. Outside, sure. Go twenty feet or sit in the SUV and the damned thing worked perfectly.
Jenna chewed the inside of her cheek. She hadn’t seen anything except the now-resettled spray of snow but if it were a downed plane then someone could be hurt out there. It got dark around five this time of year so there were a few hours of daylight left at least and she knew these woods better than anyone—excepting her grandfather, of course. 
She grabbed her cell off the coffee table and in a few moments had her white down jacket zipped, the hood yanked up, and her gloves on. She was already wearing her sheepskin boots; the cabin floor sometimes felt cold to her even in the summer and now in January it was bitterly so.
Jenna drew in the bracing smell of snow and pine as she stepped onto the porch and shut the front door behind her. She was careful going down the cabin’s front steps; she’d slipped often enough on them over the years to remember to hold the handrail in winter. The soft powdery snow crunched under her boots as she walked and, as expected, three steps past her SUV the cell had reception again.
She scrolled through the numbers to the right one and hit “Dial” as she headed in the direction where she’d seen the snow spray.
“Sheriff’s Department.”
“Sarah Jane? It’s Jenna McNally.”
“Hey there, Jenna, you okay?” Sarah Jane had once been a model, or so Pap had said. Got her heart broke by a famous artist in New York and fled to Brittle Bridge to escape it all.
But then again, he’d made up stories about everyone with Jenna—the mayor was in the witness protection program, her teacher was a secret agent. She’d been labeled a “sensitive child” by the social worker who had handled the transfer of custody to him. Of course to Pap “sensitive” meant “creative” so he’d gone all out in encouraging her in all of it—the arts and music, crafting, baking—anything she wanted to try, and he was proud as punch to let her.
But if Sarah Jane had been a model, it was thirty-five years ago or more now and twenty since she joined the sheriff’s department. “You up at Pap’s still?”
Her grandfather’s name was William James McNally. But it had probably been since before Sarah Jane’s supposed model-artist affair days that he had been called anything other than “Pap” in the vicinity of Brittle Bridge—at least never in the twenty-six years Jenna had known him.
Well, excepting that social worker.
“Yeah, I’ll be here for a couple more days,” Jenna said, already past the clearing around the house and into the forest. “Listen, I think a plane crashed up here on our”—she swallowed hard—“my land.”
“A plane?” Sarah Jane’s voice went from neighborly to official. “Where did it come down?”
“Not sure.” Jenna ducked under a branch as she headed deeper into the woods. “I heard something real loud and then it was like ‘bam,’ something hitting the ground hard. Shook the whole place.”
“Can you see smoke from where you are now?”
“No,” Jenna admitted, trotting along as fast as the snow would allow her. Some of the drifts were deep and she had to mind where she stepped. She wouldn’t be doing anyone any good if she broke her ankle. “I’m heading out to take a look now.”
“But you saw the plane go down?”
“Uh, no.” Sarah Jane’s too-patient tone was starting to make her feel a little embarrassed for calling when she hadn’t actually seen anything. Maybe it was something else: a really big tree falling or a damn meteorite or something.
“Huh,” Sarah Jane said. “Lemme call around and see if anybody’s gone missing. But you call me straight off if you find anything, ’kay?”
“Sure thing.” Jenna ended the call and slipped the phone into her jacket pocket. Whatever crashed couldn’t be far from where she’d seen the snow spray up.
Forced by the lack of schools and friends for his young granddaughter, Pap had kept the house in Asheville, but they’d come to Brittle Bridge at every opportunity. Pap’s heart was here and she’d happily spent the summer days running barefooted in these woods clad in overalls, her chestnut hair in pigtails at first, then tied back in a ponytail as she got older.
Her stride faltered and she steadied herself against a pine, the rough trunk pulling on her knitted glove. Pap’s beloved woods were quiet and bright around her but Jenna suddenly had a strong urge to run back to the cabin.
She set her jaw and pressed on. Pap hadn’t raised her to be a coward and this was her land now. He’d left her five hundred acres and anyone on it without her say-so was trespassing, even if it was about to go up for sale.
Still, she wished she’d thought to grab Pap’s revolver or rifle or even his hunting knife before she’d come racing down here.
I’ll go as far as the creek and if I don’t find anything I’ll head on back.
But all was quiet at the creek too, the crystal clear water moving placidly between the banks—
Jenna stopped short. There was tang to the air, a burned smell that wrinkled her nose. It reminded her a little bit of the inside of a mechanic’s garage, out of place in such pristine woods.
It smelled wrong. Not only that…
There’s no snow here.
There was snow all around, covering the ground, hanging heavy in the tree limbs above, but here there was just a long patch of mud and broken sticks.
The sudden sick feeling of being watched raised the tiny hairs on the back of her neck. With a shock of awareness she realized just how very vulnerable she was out here, alone and unarmed.
Pap hadn’t raised her to be an idiot either. With trembling fingers she pulled her phone out and hit redial to the Sheriff’s office.
In horrified disbelief she watched the screen flash “Connection failed.”
She took a step back and searched the silent, still forest.
All I have to do is make it back up to the house. I can get the gun, get my car keys, call for help, get the hell out of here!
Her quickened breath was visible as she headed uphill back toward the cabin, the drifts and her fear slowing her down. She couldn’t remember if the ammunition was still in the kitchen cabinet or if she’d moved it to—
Something off to her right gave a soft, deep growl . . .

Warriors of Hir
Book Two
Willow Danes

Genre: Science Fiction Romance /
Paranormal Erotica

Publisher: Here Be Dragons

Date of Publication: February 1, 2015

ISBN-10: 0692377735
ISBN-13: 978-0692377734

Number of pages: 271
Word Count: 69,000

Cover Artist: Steven James Catizone

Book Description:

Hope MacGowan is a city girl but reeling from a break-up on top of a layoff has her determined to have a weekend away in the North Carolina mountains—even if all her friends have bailed at the last minute. Hope’s life is one big train-wreck and getting kidnapped by a tall, blond alien—even a gorgeous one—sure isn’t helping.

R’har crossed the galaxy to seek a mate on this newly discovered world and this delicate red-haired female is everything he’s dreamed of—except happy to find herself mated to him. R’har knows in his heart he’s her true mate, even if he’s not human. But taking her doesn’t mean he can keep her and somehow he has to convince Hope to choose him before time runs out . . .

Available at Amazon

Excerpt Taken:

Coldness snaked through Hope’s belly as Keri’s silence dragged on.
“Did you know?” Hope asked again. Her cell pressed hard to her ear, her heart in her throat as she waited for her friend’s answer, she had a sudden urge to open the car window and hurl the damned thing into the road before Keri could reply. “Did you know about Brian and Megan?”
Through the phone she heard Keri sigh and Hope’s grip tightened on the steering wheel, the center diamond of her engagement ring sparkling in the sunlight.
Parked in front of the diner where she was to pick up the rental’s keys, Hope blinked out at Brittle Bridge, North Carolina’s quaint Main Street. Outside her car, people strolled about on their Friday morning errands, enjoying the May sunshine and the sweet mountain air, chatting and laughing.
Inside the car, Hope’s breath had the quick shallow pant of an animal caught in a trap.
“Look,” Keri began, a little impatiently. “It wasn’t my job to tell you. Megan—Brian really—should have.”
“You’re my friend. You went with me to look at venues, at wedding gowns. You bought a bridesmaid’s dress.” Hope’s throat tightened. “Megan bought a maid of honor dress!”
“I didn’t actually buy the dress,” Keri mumbled. “I called the boutique after we left and asked them to cancel my order.”
But that was back in March!
“How long?” Hope asked, her voice high and tight. “How long has it been going on? How long have you known?”
Keri sighed again. “I went to Gable’s with some people from work back in January and I saw Brian and Megan in a booth in the back and they were—It’s probably been going on longer though.”
“January? But—” Hope began, her tone pleading now as if she could argue this away, as if to point out the faulty logic of it would cast a spell and make everything right again. “But we got engaged on Valentine’s Day! He asked me to marry him on Valentine’s Day. If he and Megan were—” Her eyes stung. “He broke our engagement by text, you know. He sent me a text today to tell me that he and Megan were together and how very, very sorry he was. Megan texted to say she’s sorry too—Oh, and since she’s not coming for the weekend she’s not going to pay her third for the rental.”
“Oh, that is shitty,” Keri said.
Shitty as letting me plan a wedding when you knew all along Megan was fucking my fiancé?
But the great burden of red hair was everyone expected you to have a bad temper and a sharp tongue. Hope had spent most of her twenty-seven years showing the world how even-keeled she was, how she could handle anything with a cool head, not raging or weeping even in the face of heartbreak and grief, not letting anyone know how bad she hurt.
Those walls went up when she was eight and were so thick now that nothing—not the death of her parents, not the humiliation of her fiancé screwing her maid of honor—was going to bring them down.
“Yeah, it is,” Hope said instead. “So when were you going to get around to telling me that you aren’t coming for the weekend either?”
“Look, I just thought if you and Megan were alone—maybe the truth would finally come out. Being with the two of you and pretending I didn’t know sucked.”
“Wow.” Hope nodded even though Keri couldn’t see her. Even a determined redhead had her limits. “That must have been really rough on you.”
Keri went silent again. 
Hope put her hand over her eyes, blocking out the cheerful spring sunlight. “I lost my job this morning.”
“What?” Keri sounded startled for the first time during their conversation.
“They made the announcement today. They sold the company to the Hindle Group last week and they had one too many graphic designers so they let me go. They made me drive all the way to Asheville to give me the news. My fiancé ends it in a text but my company had to tell me in person.”
“Jesus . . .”
“They gave me three months’ severance. And they shook my hand too. Apparently someone in the D.C. office did me the favor of clearing out my stuff while I was driving to Asheville yesterday so I’m all packed up. They’ll have everything delivered to my apartment by the end of the day.”
“So you’re driving back to D.C. tonight?”
“What for?” Hope asked bleakly. “Brian and Megan are at his place, making the most of the romantic curtained bed I bought. I don’t have work on Monday. No fiancé, no best friend, no job. My apartment lease is up in ten days and now I won’t be moving in with Brian. Maybe I’ll just move up here to the mountains. Take up wood crafting or something.”
“Call me when you get back,” Keri urged. “I’ll take you out and get you drunk. We’ll find you someone new.”
“No. I’m cursed.” Hope shut her eyes. “No one on the planet has worse luck with men than I do.”
Keri was smart enough not to argue that point. “I really am sorry.”
“Yeah, me too,” Hope said and hung up.
She turned off the car and sat there, the cell cradled in her lap. The invitations hadn’t gone out yet so she didn’t need to work through the guest list; with her parents both dead and no siblings there was no one left to call.
No one at all.

Warriors of Hir
Book Three
Willow Danes

Genre: Science Fiction Romance /
Paranormal Erotica

Publisher: Here Be Dragons

Date of Publication: July 28, 2015

ISBN-10: 0692500820
ISBN-13: 978-0692500828

Number of pages: 265

Word Count: 68,000

Cover Artist: Steven James Catizone

Book Trailer:

Book Description:

Kidnapped from Earth by an alien warrior when she visits her uncle, Summer Mills is terrified she will never be able to return home. Her alien captors are using human females as breeding stock and her only chance to return to Earth is Ke’lar, the one Hir warrior willing to stand between her and his own kind.

Returning this human female home won’t be easy and Ke’lar knows by this act of defiance he is throwing his own chances at a lifemate away. Both his family’s enemies and his own clan have pledged to reclaim the woman he has stolen, the only woman he will ever love . . .

Available at Amazon

 Excerpt Stolen:

The alien warrior, naked beside her, gave a soft snore, his thickly muscled arm thrown over Summer, keeping her close as he slumbered.
When he had first captured her on Earth, she had only seen beast—his full mouth, his gleaming fangs, his inhuman ridged forehead and heavy brow. Now, lying beside him, his bare tan skin smooth and warm against her own, his eerie glowing amber eyes shut, she knew how very intelligent he was, this wild creature who had brought her to his planet. He, like all the males of his kind—the g’hir—was tall, powerfully built, fast as quicksilver.
Summer wet her lips. She could see the movement of his eyes behind his lids.
She’d never get a better chance.
Escaping a seven-foot-tall alien warrior who’s claimed you as his mate and taken you halfway across the galaxy is impossible.
But when it’s your only chance in hell of ever seeing home again, you just tell “impossible” to fuck off.
Six days after her abduction, her heart hammering so hard she feared the sound of it would wake the warrior at her side, Summer eased out from under his heavily muscled arm and slid from his bed.
He stirred, reaching for her. She froze, crouching beside the bed, praying his vibrant eyes stayed shut, his face slack with slumber. His long, silky, red-brown hair was spread across the white pillow, his swarthy coloring a stark contrast to her own pale complexion.
When she’d first awoken to find herself captive on his ship he’d looked her over with his unnervingly brilliant alien gaze. He’d taken a lock of her pale blond hair between his large fingers, frowned at her skin, and asked if such pallor in a human meant she was sickly. Trembling before the huge warrior, thinking he’d kill her if he thought her ill, not even understanding how she was processing those growls of his as language—Summer swore she was completely healthy. He’d given a satisfied fanged smile; pleased, she knew now, that she’d be able to produce the robust, healthy offspring he wanted.
The warrior—Ar’ar—gave another soft snore and Summer straightened to standing.
Clad only in a whisper-thin nightgown, the polished tiles cold under her feet, she padded silently through his luxurious quarters. Sweet spring air drifted through the open balcony doors, the fine silk curtains fluttering in the breeze as she passed them.
The balcony of Ar’ar’s rooms—the opulent living quarters of a clanfather’s heir—overlooked his family’s vast holdings, and the three moons of his world—Hir—lit her way. The wind stirred her long hair, momentarily blocking her vision, and impatiently Summer tucked the bright strands behind her ears to keep them out of her eyes.
She had one chance at this.
If they caught her she’d be watched constantly no matter what concessions Ar’ar—her new alien “mate”—made to his female’s pleas. He was confident enough, and proud enough, that he had dismissed the honor guards his father, Mirak, tried to attach to her. Ar’ar gave a huffing, indulgent laugh as he’d waved them off at her request. After all, compared to him, Summer, even at five foot nine, was just a slip of thing.
A weak, harmless, helpless human female . . .
Using the building to help her balance, she climbed up to stand on the balcony’s wall.
Eight stories above the ground of an alien world.
Summer swallowed hard. There was a reason she always insisted on having a room on the first floor of a hotel. Just glancing out the glass-wall window of her high-rise office back home left her woozy.
But there was only one way out into the hallway—and ultimately to Earth—that wouldn’t wake the glowing-eyed fanged warrior snoozing back there. She had to get from these quarters over to the unoccupied rooms beside them. That door she could open without fear of waking him, then get the hell out of this monstrously large building they called a clanhall and run for freedom.
It wasn’t even very far over. Twelve feet, maybe.
All she had to do was get to the next balcony.
Never mind that the only way there was a small decorative outcropping on the side of the building barely as wide as her foot . . .
About the Author:

Willow Danes is the pen name of author Ariel MacArran, creator of the Tellaran Series. She is an Amazon bestselling author, currently at work on book four of the Tellaran Series, The Princess.

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Tuesday, October 6, 2015

Spotlight The Third Throne: Angel of Death by Tabitha Barret

The Third Throne:
Angel of Death
The Third Throne Series
Book Two
Tabitha Barret

Genre: Paranormal Romance / Urban Fantasy

Publisher: Heather Baker

Date of Publication: 7/31/2015

ISBN: 1514847507

Number of pages: 530
Word Count: 223,833

Cover Artist: Heather Baker

Book Description:

Anjali has embraced her destiny to end the world, but now she must find her ten Harbingers, known as the Predznak. She is determined to find Alazar, the Angel of Death, the former leader of the Predznak, before the other angels. She fears that he has lost hope and is close to becoming a Rogue Angel.

Alazar has spent too many centuries waiting for his Master Anjali to come and claim him. Deception and lies have kept them apart, but now it’s too late. He has vowed to the other Predznak that he will kill their Master so that they can be free.

During her search for Alazar, Anjali meets the Spirit Experts, paranormal investigators who are on a collision course with the Angel of Death. Anjali finds herself strangely attracted to one of the Spirit Experts and decides to become a part of their group in an effort to keep them safe from her dangerous angel.

Can Anjali stop Alazar from killing the Spirit Experts and destroying the surrounding town? Can she keep Lucifer in the dark about her affections for the mortal man? Will unseen enemies destroy all that Anjali holds dear?

The Third Throne: Angel of Death is the second book in the steamy Adult Urban Fantasy and Paranormal Romance series.

Available at Amazon

Excerpt The Third Throne: Angel of Death, by Tabitha Barret

Alazar took a step back and contemplated the beautiful woman standing before him.  He was compelled to look at her.  Reaching out he touched the bruises forming on her neck.  How could he hurt someone as lovely as this?  The ice inside of him melted, just a little, as his fingertips grazed the skin on her neck.  The pains of his injuries were dulled when his thumb brushed against her cheek.  She didn’t say anything as he touched her face.  She seemed bewildered.  He chuckled at his own confusion.  What in the world would make him believe that she was his enemy?

Anjali began to hope that she and Alazar could get past all that had happened in her absence.  He was looking at her with amusement and perhaps, hope.  She smiled at him, enjoying the feel of his hands on her skin.  She felt appreciated and cared for as he gazed at her with excitement in his eyes.  He was gentle and patient while touching her face.  She was surprised to find that she enjoyed the way he touched her.  It occurred to her that Death had a seductive side, one that could lure his victims into believing that death could be glamorous and fun.  She would have to watch herself around him.

He looked into her perfect blue eyes and saw, he wasn’t sure at first, but he saw, death.  Fear consumed him as realization dawned on his beleaguered brain.  He was a Harbinger, a Predznak, the one that would herald the coming of the Destroyer, and here she was, in the flesh.  So much for heralding her coming, she had walked straight into his town and taken him by surprise.  Dear Lord above, it was Anjali, his Master.

Anjali saw Alazar’s enchanting face turn cold and calculating as he stepped away.  Sadly, he had finally figured out who she really was and he wasn’t thrilled about it.

“Anjali,” her name felt like sawdust on his lips.  The other nightmare in his life was here and she was wearing the symbol of his undying hatred of Hell and all who inhabited it.  How fitting.  At least he could roll both of his fears into one and consolidate them for ease.  If he defeated her, he would burn Serena’s dress and be rid of both of them.

“Alazar,” she didn’t know what else to say.  Bracing herself for another trip through the snowy air, she held out her hand to him again.  She didn’t expect him to take it, but didn’t know what else to do.

Alazar gripped the knife tighter as anger spread through him.  She was standing in front of him, after all this time.  He remembered his vow to the other Predznak, the vow he had made to himself nearly fifteen hundred years ago.  He was going to kill his unworthy Master.  He stared at her outstretched palm.  Settle things, she had said.  He was going to settle things.

The knife tore through the drifting snow and slashed through her palm.  A spray of blood fell across the snow-covered ground.  This was how it was going to end, her dead in the street and him free for eternity.

Anjali was surprised by the sudden movement of the knife.  She hated knives and had an odd fear of them ever since Hades had tried to take her head with one.  The pain was minor compared to the thrashing she’d just endured, but the action made her scream.  This was what she had feared.  Alazar hated her and was declaring war against her.  She stared at him in disbelief and stumbled backward, trying to comprehend all that had happened.  By all rights, she should remove her ring and force him to bow to her, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it.  She had to find a way to get through to him.

Alazar allowed the Destroyer’s scream to wash over him, and renew his desire to end her life.  He was going to make this personal.  She would know all that he had endured in her absence.  That simple scream was just the beginning.  She would feel every lash of Lucifer’s whip, every cut from Serena, and every torture used in the realms.  He would listen to her scream until the light finally faded from her eyes.

About the Author:

Tabitha Barret graduated from Rutgers University with a BA in English. She married the guy from her Creative Writing class and together had two amazing children. They live in a quiet town in New Jersey with their three rambunctious dogs. She is currently working on her series, The Third Throne.