Word-Slingers – Spotlight Guest Katherine Wyvern

Today we have a repeat guest, Katherine Wyvern, to celebrate her recent releases, White Sands and Head Shy. All of the books featured here today (including the first book in the series, Black Carnival), take place on the world Cydonia, a fascinating world in outer space which rebuilt the famous Venice, far from Earth.

The city of Venice has been rebuilt on the far planet of Cydonia. Despite the uneasy presence of the mysterious, only part-human Sand Riders who roam the Cydonian deserts, The Black Carnival has become a celebration of beauty and lust known all over the Galaxy.

Ivory Blake, a young artist from the conservative Central Planets, is thrown in the middle of the festivities to illustrate a new book about the Black Carnival. As a guest of the glamorous art collector Lukan Løvensgård, her professional assignment quickly turns into a highly emotional exploration of sensuality in all its most varied aspects, from BDSM to romantic love, passing through obsession, fear, jealousy and passionate, tender complicity.

Ivory Blake is back in NeuVenedig, the city of the erotic Black Carnival, and this time she is not a tourist. As she finally begins to make it as an artist and settle in the local way of life, she is also trying to find again the man she has fallen in love with during the last Carnival, Lune.
Belonging to an artificial breed striving for independence from the stifling laws of the Galactic Union, his life is however in danger, as the leaders of the liberation party die mysteriously one by one.

Romance is easier and more carefree with Lune’s young companion, Laz’law, another acquaintance from the Carnival, and as his two young lovers try to understand the secret of Lune’s life, love,  danger and lust bring them all ever closer together.

On the desert planet Cydonia, Lune, a naturalist and explorer, is assigned a new trainee. The young Rider is supposed to follow him everywhere to learn the skills of his trade.On the desert planet Cydonia, Lune, a naturalist and explorer, is assigned a new trainee. The young Rider is supposed to follow him everywhere to learn the skills of his trade.

Lune would gladly be spared the trouble, especially when informed that the boy has been formerly apprenticed to a vicious and abusive Rider, and likely to be difficult and traumatized. But when Laz’law, a stunningly beautiful, fiercely touchy creature enters his life, Lune has no choice other than to employ his horse-whisperer’s patience to earn his trust and win his love.
When Lune entered the small locker room by the stable yard he was a bit disappointed to hear the water running in one of the showers. He was tired, dusty and sweaty, and he really just wanted to scrub himself clean and then go home. The thought of meeting somebody and having to chat and be social made him feel vaguely sick.

He wondered who had stayed at the yard so long. It was a holiday, after all. He unbuttoned his shirt quickly and stuffed it into his locker, hoping to hide in a different shower before whoever it was came out, but it was too late. The water stopped, and the shower door opened. He turned to look and nearly keeled over senseless when Laz’law, of all people, stepped out of it. He had a towel around his middle and was dripping wet. He had a dark, combative look in his eyes, but he relaxed somewhat when he saw Lune.

“Oh,” he said, “it’s you. I had no idea you were even around today.”

Lune sat down on a bench and with some effort said, “Came to trim some horses. For a friend. Thought you were off with your pals.”

“Oh, no,” said Laz’law, “I didn’t go after all. Too busy. I studied, and then I came to play with the mare for a while. Trustworthy, see? And by now I can tell you anything you could possibly want me to know about every bleeding plant, beast, and bug that lives between here and Arnia. You’ll have to take me with you. I’m your living encyclopedia. You’ll need me.”

He flipped the towel off his waist and began rubbing his head with it.

“Mh-h,” said Lune, out of general considerations that this wasn’t a good moment to trust his voice. He watched Laz’law in something like a stupor while the young man rubbed the towel on his head, face, and throat. He was lean and sculpted like a racing thoroughbred, with not an inch of softness about him, and every muscle bow-string-taut under the shiny, wet, dark skin. His chest bulged out exactly enough, strong without heaviness; his stomach was as neatly and squarely lined as a chocolate bar, and his cock …

Laz’law took the towel off his head and looked at him.

“Come on, man, ask me any question! Test time!”

“Uh …” said Lune, looking down. Don’t look into his eye, he thought. Never let a shy horse know you are after him. Never cross his path. Approach sideways, make for the shoulder. Keep your head down. Don’t look into his eye. Don’t look into his eyes. Don’t look into those damned eyes, Lune.

He swallowed. “I don’t know. Tell me about snakes, to begin with.” He bit his lower lip. Snakes? he thought. Can’t you be a bit more obvious, you demented old sucker? He crossed his legs tightly to keep his fast-growing hard-on from showing.

Laz’law launched into a fast-paced description of every living species of snake known on Cydonia, specifying size, coloring, habitat and distinguishing features. He did sound like a living encyclopedia. Lune wondered when he had done all this reading, but then, like so many other rebellious youngsters he had known, he was scarily keen when he put his mind to it.

“And these are the snakes you can eat,” Laz’law said proudly, before rattling out the whole bleeding list of them. Lune bent down to lean his elbows on his knees and his forehead on his palms, aiming for an overall look of weary but concentrated attention and peering at him sideways, from under his thumb. It would keep the bulge in his pants out of view, but he was going to die of it. He made a mental note to wear somewhat softer trousers next time he was around Laz’law.

Oh lord, he thought, shifting painfully, so this is the day I get a sprained cock, yes?

Laz’law stood there talking, exhibiting his nakedness now with the total forgetfulness of the true sportsman. He had toweled his breast dry, and his skin was like matte bronze. But some water still clung in the hollow of his throat, and one drop began a shiny descent along his torso, outlining every perfect bulge and groove of his chest and belly. He had two twin silver-derm tattoos on his chest, paw-prints of sorts, as if a particularly loving and artistic panther had dipped its feet in silver paint and then laid them on his breast, side by side. Lune swallowed again. Another drop of water ran down Laz’law’s body. He toweled the inside of his legs and his narrow, perfect hips. He passed the towel under his balls, and round his cock, which fell back and bounced around, inviting…


Katherine is a gipsy soul who lived in Italy, Norway, Germany, France and Spain but mostly in some private universe of her own. She still lives a nomad life between Dordogne and Catalonia, with a tipi as a home and her boots and a horse as only means of transport.
She’s worked as a printer, a welder and a gardener, and been writing since she can remember, mostly poetry, fantasy and erotica, sometimes mixed together in weird ways.
Nowadays, when not busy with walking, horse-whispering or dream-weaving, she is usually painting, embroidering or working her backbone off in the pastures.
Thanks for coming by to meet (again in many cases) Katherine Wyvern. The spotlight returns to guest Nana Malone on Thursday, August 2. Hope you’ll come back then!


Word-Slingers – Guest Chastity Bush #contest

Today’s guest is Chastity Bush. I hope you like her! There’s a contest, so don’t forget to comment when you drop by. 🙂

1)         How long have you been writing?

Professionally, I’ve been writing about five years. But I can’t remember a time that I wasn’t jotting down something, be it a little short story or something in a journal.

2)         How many balls do you juggle on a daily basis, and how do you manage to keep them all in the air (usually), (ball = work, writing, family, etc.)

I have a husband and two daughters, ages thirteen and eight. Between taking care of my families basic needs, and doing all the other stuff required of a wife and the mother of dramatic little girls, I stay pretty busy. I squeeze in writing when I can. I do my most writing when they’re at school. After that, the word count is almost nonexistent.

3)         I offered to interview you when a call went out looking for locations. I’m not familiar with your work yet unfortunately (that will change!). What can you tell us about your most recent releases?

I’ve been pretty busy with three releases in the last three months. One in May and two in June. All of my writing has a suspenseful/mysterious edge and a lot of humor. I love reading things that make me think and laugh at the same time, so I strive to do the same with my books for my readers.
 Reluctant Angel is my most recent release and was so much fun to write. It’s a paranormal/fantasy romance and completely different from the other paranormals I’ve written.

4)         What is it about your genre(s) that you like so much?

I write almost all genres, but paranormal in my favorite. I love that you can make your characters anything you can possibly imagine. There are so many possibilities when writing paranormals. It’s so much fun.

5)         Do you think you’ll move to other sorts of books, and if yes, what to and when?

Actually, I’m working on something right now (Melody Massacre to the Rescue) that’s a style that I’ve never before attempted. I’ve never written a story in the first person, but this one has been a lot of fun. It’s a paranormal suspense and beyond hilarious. I can’t wait until it’s finished.

6)         Sweet or sour?

Sweet! I have the biggest sweet tooth

7)         Chocolate or vanilla?

Vanilla. Yum!

Chastity Bush is the author of the several novels known for their spicy romance, suspense and humorous edge. when not writing her next novel, you can find her spending time with her husband and their two daughters.

When a tragic accident takes the life of Killian Sams, she enters the one place she never thought she’d see. Heaven… or something like it. 
Desperate for a second chance at life, Killian’s willing to do whatever it takes to regain her human life, including falling to Earth and facing the Destroyer.
If she can defeat The Destroyer, a creature who awakens once ever century to take the souls of as many people possible for power, she’ll earn any one of the countless souls he’s harvested over the years, including an immortal one.
But there’s a catch, in order for her to be sent on this mission, she has to agree to help Chase Crawford- a mercenary who’s in desperate need of saving- see that his life is still worth living. However, she never expected to fall for the ruggedly handsome soldier of fortune.
Now, not only does Killian have eight days to find, face, and defeat The Destroyer in order to stay on Earth, she has to do it while fighting her growing feelings for the man she’s vowed to save, or lose him forever.
One lucky commenter will receive a copy of either Reluctant Angel or any of Chastity’s backlist (check out her Amazon page –link above– for the list). So don’t forget to comment!
Thanks again for coming by, Chastity. I wish you all the best in your writing.

Monday will have an author spotlight from fellow Evernight writer, Katherine Wyvern and her latest Romance on the Go release, Head Shy.

Life and Print

This has been a truly sucky past few days, I have to say. The twins got sick Friday evening (or at least you could see them descending). Twin B (dark, short hair above) was sick and just wanted to be held all of Saturday, which can be incredibly wearing on a mommy. She was hot to the touch and I tried to keep her fever down. Twin A (blond hairball above) was a bit cranky and toward evening started heating up.

Saturday night was bad. Twin B just kept crying. I medicated her at 10:30 and then tried to just let her sleep.    

This turned out to be a very bad idea. I’d checked on her at 3, and she was hot. I should have dosed her with Tylenol then, but thought I should let her just have the fever so it would burn out whatever was wrong, not suspecting/thinking it could get much worse. Unfortunately I learned how bad an idea that was an hour later. She had a seizure. A febrile seizure, which is the scariest thing I’ve ever seen. This resulted in an ambulance ride to Wolfson’s and some testing. Meanwhile, at home, Daddy’s caring for sick Twin A who is starting to heat up.

Sunday was a total bust as to do anything, as now I had two little girls who wanted nothing other than to be held. Daddy spelled me a bit (as you can see from above), but other than that, I was on the couch with one or the other child on me at pretty much all times.

Fast forward to yesterday afternoon. Twin A has been far worse, just listless, refusing to eat or drink (save through a syringe, which I tried out of desperation to get fluid into her). Took both to the doctor, and the doctor thinks they have roseola. Ugh. So, nothing to do but wait it all out.

Now on to the good news.

Okay, got that out of my system. Mostly. Hehehe. I would have done a bit of squealing and dancing around, but I was at the doctor’s office when I got the email. It’s currently just available through Evernight’s print shop  but it should be available on Amazon within a week or so. Yay!
So, what’s going on/new with all of you?

Word-Slingers – Guest Jeffe Kennedy

I’m quite excited by today’s guest, Jeffe Kennedy. She’s got several books out and a great style to her work! So, let’s have fun with her.

1) How long have you been writing?

I started playing with writing around 1994, while I was finishing my master’s in neurophysiology. I got serious about it in 1996 – also the year my first essay was published!

2) How many balls do you juggle on a daily basis, and how do you manage to keep them all in the air (usually), (ball = work, writing, family, etc.)

I juggle fewer balls than I used to, because I managed to simplify my life quite a bit. I have a full-time career at an environmental consulting firm that takes a lot of my time and ball-handling. Then there’s the writing career, too. My stepchildren are grown up and gone, so it’s just my husband and I. He handles the cooking and grocery-shopping while I handle the cleaning and finances. I tend to be a bit of a Volunteer Slut, too – so right now I’m coordinating my local RWA chapter’s contest, The Rebecca, and also the Fantasy, Futuristic and Paranormal Chapter’s party at RWA National. I do it by making lists. My friends make fun of my for my prioritized spreadsheets, but they work for me. I’m doing this interview on a Sunday and it was one of 22 things on my To Do list. After this, I need to judge two more contest entries and then clean the house and pack for a work trip tomorrow.

3) Beyond just the blurb, what can you tell us about your release Rogue’s Pawn.

It’s about a neuroscientist who falls through a metaphysical gate at Devils Tower and ends up in Faerie. Suddenly everything she wishes comes true. The story is about being careful what you wish for – and about her dark waltz with the manipulative Rogue.

4) Having read your novella Sapphire (which copy I tragically lost when a hard drive crashed), I know you do the erotic romance genre well, but Rogue’s Pawn is also paranormal in addition to being romance. What is it about the combination of genres that you like so much?

That IS tragic about Sapphire! How awful to lose books that way. I’m not good at thinking about genre, so it’s less that I blend genres than that I kind of suck at splitting out a story into just one genre, if that makes sense. Even when I was writing personal essays, quite a bit of magical realism crept in. And I also wrote about sex and romance. I suspect this comes from how I experience the world – that all of these things are part of life.

5) Do you think you’ll move to yet another genre, and if yes, what to and when?

I do have an idea for a romantic-suspense book, that would be less erotic and probably not magical at all. I also would like to write some contemporary romance, with less kink than Sapphire and Platinum (TM – Platinum?! What is this?! When is it coming out and from where???). But for the near future, you’ll find me around the paranormal and erotica shelves.

6) Sweet or sour?


7) Chocolate or vanilla?

Definitely chocolate. 

Jeffe Kennedy took the crooked road to writing, stopping off at neurobiology, religious studies and environmental consulting before her creative writing began appearing in places like Redbook, Puerto del Sol, Wyoming Wildlife, Under the Sun and Aeon. An erotic novella, Petals and Thorns, came out under her pen name of Jennifer Paris in 2010, heralding yet another branch of her path, into erotica and romantic fantasy fiction. Since then, an erotic short, Feeding the Vampire, and another erotic novella, Sapphire, have hit the shelves. 

Her contemporary fantasy novel, Rogue’s Pawn, book one in A Covenant of Thorns, will be published in July, 2012. Jeffe lives in Santa Fe, with two Maine coon cats, a border collie, plentiful free-range lizards and frequently serves as a guinea pig for an acupuncturist-in-training. Find her on Facebook (https://www.facebook.com/Author.Jeffe.Kennedy) and Twitter (@jeffekennedy) or visit her at her website http://jeffekennedy.com/.


This is no fairy tale… 
Haunted by nightmares of a black dog, sick to death of my mind-numbing career and heart-numbing fiancé, I impulsively walked out of my life—and fell into Faerie. Terrified, fascinated, I discover I possess a power I can’t control: my wishes come true. After an all-too-real attack by the animal from my dreams, I wake to find myself the captive of the seductive and ruthless fae lord Rogue. In return for my rescue, he demands an extravagant price—my firstborn child, which he intends to sire himself…

With no hope of escaping this world, I must learn to harness my magic and build a new life despite the perils—including my own inexplicable and debilitating desire for Rogue. I swear I will never submit to his demands, no matter what erotic torment he subjects me to…

“Enough,” a male voice said.
As if I’d ceased to exist, Tinker Bell blinked her eyes and regained her lovely self, face smoothing, shining once again in sunny elegance. Reboot and resume program. She gracefully stood and glided to the tray, set the bowl precisely in the center, lifted the tray and left the room without hesitation.
Booted footsteps crossed the room toward me. Act II, scene ii. Exit Nasty Tinker Bell, Enter God-Only-Knows-What-Now. My face was sticky with whatever the brothy stuff had been, my hair wet and fouled. I stank. I hurt. I was chained to a bed in a place so completely unknown I couldn’t begin to understand it. I tried to squeeze my legs closer together, but the chains seemed at the limit of their reach. The energy of my brief triumph evaporated, allowing tears to well up again.
Oh, please, please, please, do not cry. The threatening sting worsened. I closed my eyes and one tear leaked out. He stopped next to me, surveying me.
“You’re certainly a mess.” His wry voice was rich and smooth.
My eyes snapped open to glare at him through the blur. Fifty different smart remarks flew across my tongue, most along the lines that any failures of appearance on my part could be laid on the doorstep of someone besides myself. But even the buzz of the first word on my vocal chords brought searing agony. Relieved to have a legitimate reason for the tears, I almost welcomed the searing sensation.
“No, don’t try to talk—no one needs to hear what you have to say, anyway. Not that we can help it, since you think so loudly. And you have a decision to make. We have a quandary.” He began pacing, boots echoing against stone. “No one can heal you while you’re bound in silver and we can’t release you from the silver until you have yourself under control. Which will take a considerably long time—perhaps years of training—if you’re even able to accomplish it at all.”
I thought of the birds crashing in increasing cacophony with a small shudder.
“Exactly,” he confirmed. “And yes,” he said from the window behind my head where he seemed to be gazing out, “I can hear most of your thoughts—another reason to save trying to speak aloud.”
My stomach congealed in panic. Had he heard my secret thoughts? Don’t think of them, bury them deep, deep. Think of other things…like what? Think of home, think of Isabel. Isabel, my cat—Clive hated her. What would happen to her now? How could I not have thought of her until this moment? Abandoned, wondering why I never came home for her… And my mother—she’d be frantic. How long had I been gone? They could be all dead and buried, lost to me forever. The anguish racked me.
“Shh.” The man sat on the side of my bed now, heavier than Nasty Tinker Bell. He brushed the hair back from my forehead, then placed his long fingers over my brow and, with his thumbs, rhythmically smoothed along my cheekbones, wiping away the tears that now flowed freely.
I stifled a sob. I had cried more in the past day than I had in years. The sweeping along my cheekbones soothed me, melting warmth through my skull. The rhythm became part of my breathing. Deep breaths. Smooth, easy. The awful tightness in my chest gave a little sigh and released.
“Let’s try again, shall we?” The man pulled his hands away. I could hear him brush them against his thighs. Soup, tears and blood. Yuck.
My eyes cleared enough for me to see him. Ebony-blue climbed over half his face. The winding pattern of angular spirals and toothy spikes swirled out of his black hair on the left side of his face, placing sharp fingers along his cheekbone, jaw and brow. For a moment, the tattoo-like pattern dominated everything about him. Ferocious and alien.
Once I adjusted, I could see past the lines. His face echoed Tinker Bell’s golden coloring. He could be her fraternal twin, with those same arched cheekbones. But where she was golden dawn, he was darkest night. Midnight-blue eyes, that deep blue just before all light was gone from the sky, when the stars have emerged, but you could see the black shadows of trees against the night. He shared Tinker Bell’s rose-petal mouth, but with a curious edge to it. I suppose a man’s mouth shouldn’t remind one of a flower, and there was nothing feminine about this man. Where she wore the pink sugar roses of debutantes and bridal showers, his lips made me think of the blooms of late summer, the sharp-ruffled dianthus, edges darkening to blood in the heat. His bone structure was broader than hers but still seemed somehow differently proportioned, his arms hanging a bit too long from shoulders not quite balanced to his height. Inky hair pulled back from his face fell in a tail down his back. One strand had escaped to fall over his shoulder and I could see a blue shimmer in its silk sheen.
He arched his left eyebrow, blueness in the elegant arch, repeating the deep shades of the fanged lines around it.
“Shall we?” he repeated.

I stared at him. What was the question?

And there you have it, the inestimable Jeffe Kennedy. Hope you’ll make her feel nice and warm and welcome with lots of comments!

Thursday Word-Slingers – Spotlight on KT Grant

The spotlight today is centered firmly on KT Grant and her current release, Alana’s Surrender. Hope you enjoy learning a little about Ms. Grant and her book.

KT Grant is a self-proclaimed eccentric redhead who not only loves to read a wide variety of romances, but also loves writing it. Under her alter-ego, she is a well-known book reviewer and blogger who doesn’t shy away from voicing her opinion. A proud native of New Jersey, KT is multi-published and known for writing “out of the box” romances. KT has been mentioned in the Guardian.UK, Publisher’s Weekly’s Beyond the Book and at Bookseller.com. KT is a top ten best-selling  author at Amazon, as well as being a multiple All Romance Ebooks best seller and a Night Owl Reviews Top Author Pick.

Alana, the lead singer of the all girls’ group, The Lady Pearls is about to hit it big. Every Saturday night she sings at Sisco’s, a popular bar in town. She’ll always be grateful to Casey, the owner, who gave her a start and who she has a secret crush on.

Casey doesn’t just want to be Alana’s employer but her lover. Then there’s the bartender Marc who also lusts for Alana and refuses to wait on the sidelines as Casey puts the move on her. He’ll finally claim Alana as his own and perhaps allow Casey to join them for a night all three will never forget.

He flirts with everyone. It’s not personal. She’d learned long ago not to shit where she ate, but her employer made it hard to remember that useful fact.

She took her time sauntering in, swaying her hips in her low-rise jeans. “I couldn’t help myself. You have one squeezable ass, even in these older-than-dirt clothes you’re wearing.”

Casey turned down the sound on the radio to a more reasonable decibel level. When she got close enough, his hand curled around her wrist. “I’d let you appreciate that part of my anatomy or any other part you want. Just say the word.”

He wiggled his eyebrows when she snorted. Casey acted like he never took anything seriously. But despite his boyish looks, he was a shrewd businessman whose success reflected years of hard work. She admired that side of him, too—maybe even more.

“Perhaps I’ll take you up on that offer in a year, when I’m out on the road touring and no longer working for you. But for now, I’ll have to say no.”

Casey lost his smile. “The hell you say,” he snarled, still keeping possession of her hand.

“I can’t play here forever. We finished the album last week and offers from bigger venues have started rolling in,” she said. He had to know the Pearls were going places. They couldn’t be tied down to one location.

“Did you come here with that information just to piss me off?” He threw the clipboard on the counter and curved an arm around her waist.

Whoa, what’s going on here? She stared up at him in shock. His palm closed on her hip; a hot brand that went straight to her core. “I came here to pick up my check, nothing more.”

“Nothing more, huh? After Saturday night, I thought you’d have more sense than to come here on a Monday when you know I’m here by myself.” His face dipped toward hers. “Nobody is going to walk in on us.”

I want to know what happens next! Which of course is the point of a teaser excerpt. Hehe. Thanks for coming by. Please make Ms. Grant feel loved and leave lots of comments below!

Coming up on Monday (7/16) is an interview with Jeffe Kennedy about her new book, Rogue’s Pawn. Hope you’ll come by for that!

Word-Slingers – Guest JoAnne Kenrick

Today’s guest is JoAnne Kenrick, paranormal author extraordinaire! Let’s give her a nice warm welcome!

1) How long have you been writing?

I’ve been writing since 2008, and fiction since the beginning of 2010. My first book, When A Mullo Loves A Woman, was accepted later that year by Decadent Publishing.

2) How many balls do you juggle on a daily basis, and how do you manage to keep them all in the air (usually), (ball = work, writing, family, etc.)

Not too many compared to what I see other writers having to contend with. But my plate is full. Family, keep clean house, and all that comes with being an author; writing, tweeting, yahoo group posting, book blog reading… the list is as endless as you want it to be. Oh, and don’t forget procrastination. That takes up a lot of my time. And we’re still painting our way through the house and fixing things up.

3) What can you tell us about your erotic horror paranormal release Strange & Beautiful.

Like the title says, it really is quite strange and beautiful… all wrapped up in a warped tale as told by Lucy Rot herself. Usually, Estella tells the stories but as this one is about Lucy, she takes over. This is Book One for the Tales from the Coffin series. Book two just released, and book three and four are ‘coming soon’. Five and six are on my to-write list. And book seven will be the finale as it stands now. But we’ll see where Estella and Lucy take me. Writing this series has been rather unpredictable with those two characters leading the way.

4) What is it about this genre that you like so much?

I love HEAs. I’m a romance girl at heart. Always will be. But twisted tales and vampires have always been a favorite of mine. A total Twilight Zone, Outer Limits and a Crypt Keeper fan for as long as I can remember. And I have always wanted to write something similar. When Decadent Publishing started The Edge series, I thought ‘here’s my chance’ and went with it. No HEA required? Awesome! Don’t get me wrong…if you read the series in order, you will most certainly get a romance in the traditional sense. But each book is a story within a story. One Estella, Dracula’s rejected bride, usually tells. These ladies are snarky, scary and sexy. I sure wouldn’t want to stumble into Estella’s basement for an erotic tale…and dinner time. Heck no! Although these ladies are monsters, in the literal sense, my hope is that I’ve also humanized them and given them heart so when they go through lives trials and loves ups and downs, you feel for them and strive for their HEA. FYI, the books should be read in order if you want to follow Estella and Lucy’s story. But they can be read as stand alones, also.

5) Do you think you’ll move to another genre, and if yes, what to and when?

To be honest, I never thought I’d write anything other than paranormal romances like Dracula’s Kiss being the vamp fan girl I am, so it’s surprising to me that I’ve written horror (Tales from the Coffin) and straight up contemporary romances (Irish Kisses). Even more so that they work and people readers love them. It’s a blast to mix things up. I’ve a women’s fiction story in mind that may get written one day. But knowing me, once the lead male is written into the story, it will inevitably turn into a romance.

6) Sweet or sour?
Sour. Or at least that’s what my daughter says about me! Oh, you mean to eat? Sorry! Sweet.

However, had the question been sweet or savory I’d have picked the latter. I’m a total chip/crisp junkie.

7) Chocolate or vanilla?

Are we talking ice cream here? If so, vanilla. I’m in love with fat-free vanilla frozen yogurt at the moment. If, however, you mean swoon-worthy romance hero, then I’m not fussy.

JoAnne Kenrick grew up in a small sea-side town in North Wales. Having experienced life in several different countries, she now lives in North Carolina with her husband, two children and a lazy cat. When they aren’t demanding her attention, she can most likely be found watching a vampire movie, reading, or baking up a British feast in her kitchen. And if she isn’t in one of those spots, she is probably hiding in her writer’s cave.

Website / Twitter / Facebook / YouTube Trailers

Series Overview:
Estella, Vampire Queen of the Rejected, royally invites you to join herself and her zombie lover for a fix of dark erotic tales sure to tickle your fancy and give you the shivers. But mind your manners and fingers, because she bites.

Character Profiles: Bone Cruncher / Estella / Lucy Rot

Out Now

Estella, Vampire Queen of the Rejected, is sick of men. Or so she would have you think. Ditched at the altar by Dracula himself, she’d rather spend her days with what she now believes to be the more faithful gender. Plagued by a Haversham complex, she gets her kicks by luring prey into her decrepit house with promises of erotic tales…but mind your manners, and fingers, because she bites.

Lucy Rotterdayne—a zombie better known as Lucy Rot—is Estella’s sometimes-faithful subject and lover. Although why she hangs around to be ridiculed and taunted by a bitter vampire, she has no idea. Perhaps the answer is rooted the story of how she was zombified by a doctor who is simply masterful with his hands?

WARNING. This is erotic horror. Happy ever afters are not guaranteed. For adult audiences only.

“Fancy bursting into my boudoir and expecting me to entertain on demand. The cheek of it. You people have no manners.” Estella puffed her raspberry-red hair into something that resembled an up-do and readjusted her breasts, shoving her plump flesh back into her once-upon-a-time-white corset. “I know. The word is out. I give great story. I do understand. You’re excited, who wouldn’t be? I am rather marvelous, if I do say so myself.

“In my day, though, the men held doors open for ladies, and the ladies tilted their necks to offer supper. Oh, no need to wrap that sweater farther up your jugular, dear, I’ve already eaten, so I’m not hungry…at the moment.” Estella stretched her arms out, licked her canines, and hoisted her moth-hole-ridden skirt to expose her alabaster thighs decorated with stockings laddered at the knees and splattered with fresh blood. “I can’t vouch for Lucy, though. She’s always hungry, aren’t you my little Deady Bear.”

Lucy groaned, burped, and stretched her neck out—to the right. Crack. To the left. Crunch—and dragged toward her mistress.

“Quit being disgusting and help me out of this coffin, would you?”

“Yes, boss.” Lucy, her mostly-faithful servant, shuffled across the neglected basement in their decaying house in the outskirts of York—the supernatural center of England—to her mistress while cursing her gammy leg and zombie disabilities. Minutes later, she parked her behind on the edge of Estella’s coffin and snaked her hand up her leg, smearing the blood as she went. “Finger- licking good,” she crooned before trailing her tongue over the torn material decorating Estella’s skin. She paused and held her hand up. “Shame I’m missing two of them. Wonder where I lost them? You’d think I’d feel them snapping off, wouldn’t you? Have you seen them?”

Tsking, Estella kicked her off and turned her nose up. Not because she needed to dominate Lucy—she had already put her in her place—but because she knew where those fingers were. And she didn’t want the poor dear to read the truth in her eyes. “I ordered you to help me out of my coffin, not suck my joint. My goodness, your hunger for flesh is insatiable. What was I thinking taking in a zombie? Blonde and curvy you may be, but you’re always trying to gobble me up.”

Out Now

Estella, Vampire Queen of the Rejected, is sick of men. Or so she would have you think. Ditched at the altar by Dracula himself, she’d rather spend her days with what she now believes to be the more faithful gender. Plagued by a Haversham complex, she gets her kicks by luring prey into her decrepit house with promises of erotic tales…but mind your manners, and fingers, because she bites.

 Lucy Rotterdayne—a zombie better known as Lucy Rot—is Estella’s sometimes-faithful subject and lover. Although why she hangs around to be ridiculed and taunted by a bitter vampire, she has no idea. Perhaps the answer is rooted the story of how she was zombified by a doctor who is simply masterful with his hands?


Thanks for coming by! Please leave lots of comments so that Ms. Kenrick feels loved and appreciated! There’s also a tour-wide giveaway you can enter by clicking HERE.

I’ll be doing a spotlight on author KT Grant and her book Alana’s Surrender on Thursday (7/12). Hope you’ll come back for that.

Six Sentence Sunday (7/8/12) – #sixsunday

Here we are on Sunday again. This week certainly flew by. It’s a good week, even if I think my children have all been replaced by demon spawn. Yesterday was not a good day for any of them. Blech.

Anyway, on to the reason you’re here. This week’s entry comes from Prophecy of Blood. Chris is currently perturbed because she discovered part of what the villain Ares has been doing. Prudently, Jordan is trying to disarm her before she does further damage to her home. She just suggested that she could attack a person rather than the furniture and reminded him that he’s the only person around for her to go a few rounds with. He’s not particularly intimidated, as you will see.

“Oh, do try, Christine. You’ve yet to beat me.” Despite Jordan’s calm, clipped tones, the hand not on her shirt clasped her left wrist and squeezed at the pressure points as he forced her arm up at an unnatural angle. “Let’s remove that temptation though, shall we? Put the weapon down or I will break something you’d rather I didn’t.”

Breath hissed between her teeth.

And there you have it. Please check out the many other fabulous Six Sunday entries and have a fabulous week! (Don’t forget to come by tomorrow for my interview with JoAnne Kerrick!)

Writers Block & Life

Aren’t they just adorable together? (Nope, not a proud mommy here, not at all, hehehe). Blondie is still Jackie and dark hair is Sam. Here are better shots.

Jackie is finally learning to stand up for herself when Sam tries beating on her. Not all the time, but she’s definitely objecting now when Sam tries to take her toys away. Unless they start rolling around on the floor and pulling hair (yes, I’ve seen them do it already), I don’t intervene much. There are just some lessons that need to be learned about sharing. I didn’t object when my 6 y/o got bitten in the daycare because it was always in response to him stealing a toy from someone else, and I’m certainly not going to object to my girls fighting it out…as long as no one gets hurt.

Anyway, I just had to share cute pictures. I’ve heard pictures are a good draw on a blog post. Heh.

As you can see from the counter to your right, I’ve made great progress on Prophecy of Blood. If you click on said counter, you’ll be taken to StoryToolz and can actually see the progress each day (I like the site and it’s FREE people). Unfortunately, I’m now considering just dumping the whole thing and starting over. Yes, I said it. Dumping almost 60k. Well, not totally dumping, as I think there’s a lot of decent-to-great stuff in there, just out of order with some stuff that may not need to be there at all.

So, it’s either slog through to the end (which I still have no idea how to do because I’m at just shy of 60k,  still have 3 weeks in book time to cover before the climax and stunning conclusion, and don’t think it’s right to just suddenly say “3 weeks later…” and do a quick summary). Maybe part of the problem is the first two books took place over a 5-7 day period and I’m trying to cover a month in this one. I could chop the timeline down, but I liked the idea of using the Autumn Equinox as a time marker. It just seemed fitting somehow. But…

Oh, wow, I think that just gave me an idea. See – this is why I babble sometimes. Ideas occur to me. Hubby thinks (okay, and so do most of the non-writer population) I’m nuts if I just off and start talking to myself (occasionally in accents when I’m trying to work dialogue out), but it’s great for stimulating thought processes.

Anyway, do any of you ever get through most a novel and decide “I need to start over”? I routinely toss big chunks, but to get this far and start over entirely? Eeek.

Happy Fourth of July

Wow, can you believe it? We’re zipping right through this year. And it’s  fabulous Fourth of July in the USA (when this posts). No matter what problems we may have, with our government or with other countries, I’m still danged “proud to be an American” (love Lee Greenwood and that’s a deliberate use of his lyrics from God Bless the USA).

Things are starting to come together on Prophecy of Blood (a/k/a Dreams of Blood). As I write this blog post, I’m sitting at 48k and hoping to cross the 50k barrier before I go to bed (not impossible). I’m trying to set things up for the conclusion of this book and start building the fourth book in the series (Ronnie’s story, for those of you who know the characters), along with still trying to start gathering ideas for my fantasy series.

At least it’s nice to be writing again, and making steady progress, no matter having to toss so many words on two different occasions (6k last week, and another 10k or so a couple weeks ago). My goal right now is to have the first draft done by mid to late July and start Ronnie’s story while I let Prophecy rest for a bit. It’s still conceivable I can make my goal of getting two more books written and submitted (if not available in stores yet) before year’s end. So here’s hoping!

Have a happy and safe 4th for all of you that are celebrating the day!

Word-Slingers – Spotlight Guest Mal Olson

Good morning everyone. Welcome to the second half of 2012. Can you believe we’ve already made it half way through the year? Yeesh. Anyway, today the spotlight is on Mal Olson and her book, Shadow of Deceit.

Mal Olson writes adrenaline-kicked romantic suspense. When her consuming passion for writing allows time, she enjoys reading, flower gardening, jamming with friends on the mountain dulcimer, and hiking in a nearby state forest (or in the mountains somewhere). She has three grown children and one granddaughter and resides with her own special hero in southeast Wisconsin where she juggles writing time with her freelance landscape design business.

Can an FBI agent obsessed with redemption and a grieving widow desperate to clear her husband’s name learn to believe in love again?

Shannon Riedel faces down danger when a gunman breaks into her office claiming her dead husband swindled him. When FBI agent Tony Crazaniak arrives to investigate, sexual heat sizzles. The ex-Delta Force operative’s massive presence and dark eyes trigger an attraction the young widow finds unnerving.

When Crazaniak convinces Shannon she needs his protection, they partner to unearth secrets her husband left behind—secrets involving a Tanzanian mine that yields perfect blue diamonds coveted by dealers around the world—secrets connected to a terrorist leader Crazanaik has vowed to take down.

With danger surrounding them, two emotionally wounded souls bond, but can they put their demons to rest and trust in love? Can they survive long enough to find out?

The gun Shannon came across at the bottom of a neatly folded stack of masculine attire on her bed shouldn’t have surprised her. She’d seen the agent’s Glock earlier.
Intrigued, she reached for the pistol, an object that seemed so out of place in her bedroom. As though she were familiar with handling firearms when she wasn’t, she wrapped her hand around the grip then jerked her head toward the bathroom door, conjuring up thriller fantasies.
But she didn’t have to conjure anything when she noticed a letter poking out of Crazaniak’s inside jacket pocket. Nor did she have to imagine the fact that the closet door stood slightly ajar. Her stomach clenched, a mix of anger and unease. Had the FBI agent been nosing through Tyler’s belongings?
Tit for tat—the urge to sneak a peak overwhelmed her. Her heartbeat ratcheted up as she shifted the gun to her left hand and reached for the letter. 
At that instant, she sensed a presence behind her. Even as the sound of water pounded the walls of the tub enclosure, Shannon knew in her heart of hearts that six foot-plus of dripping wet, naked man stood not relaxing under the water jets, but hovering five heart-palpitating feet away.
“Want to toss me my clothes?” he asked.
Unwilling to face him, she remained quick-frozen like a pillar of ice.
“Tell me you weren’t snooping in my things,” he rumbled.
“Tell me you weren’t snooping in my closet.”
“I wasn’t snooping.”
She eyed the edge of the letter. “I thought I’d treat your duds to some suds. You want to hang out in my robe for a few?”
“Not enough material there to cover my manly attributes. I’ll settle for day-old Jockeys, and what the hell were you doing with my pistol?”

“Nothing.” She almost turned around.

Her chest thumped. The thought of Crazaniak au natural not only spiked her pulse, it titillated her imagination. She waited for a chord of guilt to strum across her heart. It didn’t happen. Instead, discord fluttered low in her abdomen, and she sensed him moving closer.

There you go! Hope you’ll come back next Monday when I interview JoAnne Kenrick. Have a great week, everyone.