New release alert! Incubus Wolf

Incubus Wolf, my erotic Nocturne Craving, releases as an ebook on September 1!

Alexandra Kosta once knew beauty and privilege as stepdaughter to the Fae king, until he banished her and scarred her for life. Now working as a bounty hunter, she's tasked with hunting down sexy werewolf Dominic Farrell. But Dominic is also part incubus, possessing the power to seduce any woman into doing his will.

When Alex is injured on the job and Dominic takes her back to his lodge, he agrees to release her—if she will share his bed first. Unlike most men, he doesn't recoil after seeing Alex in her natural state…and she cannot deny their overwhelming attraction.

But in order to save herself she has to turn Dominic over to the enemy. Can she destroy the one man who loves her as she is?

Here's a sample...

Alex was a good actress. She lowered her lashes and summoned her sexiest smile. “Leaving so soon, stranger? Don’t want to stay and see what’s on the table?”

            He cocked his head, his eyes very blue, like lasers. “Is that an offer, sweetheart?”

She shrugged. “I don’t think you’re up to the challenge.”

He said nothing, but studied her a moment. Then he leapt forward with the savage speed of his kind, pulled her off the stool and into his arms.

            The kiss was absorbing, maddening, a fusing of lips. He tasted of cold beer and hot desire. Lazily his tongue swept into her mouth, tasting her with possessive intent. Her lower belly clenched hard as her nipples tightened. It was the kiss of a man who wanted to lay a woman down and mount her. The kiss of an incubus, who knew exactly what he wanted and how to get it.

            In the corner, the jukebox played “Hot blooded.” Alex’s mind swirled with a shocked vortex of pleasure. Celibate for the past 10 years, she felt her body slowly kick from dormant to sexually charged. She slid her arms around his neck, leaned into him and kissed him back. His beard bristle abraded her cheeks. Beneath the layers of clothing, his body was hard with thick muscle. A low growl rumbled from his throat as he stroked a thumb over her pulse, feeling her heart shift from normal into overdrive.

            He released her abruptly, amusement gleaming in those eyes. Except now they weren’t ice cold, but flaming. He wanted her...

Click here to preorder on Amazon.

Click here to preorder on Barnes and Noble NOOK.

Lessons from elementary school

When I was in elementary school in New Jersey, something happened that changed me forever.

Her name was Mrs. Lerner and she was my fourth grade teacher.

I started writing in fourth grade. Although I had written poetry in third grade, Mrs. Lerner encouraged us to write poetry and stories.  And I loved it.  Kept my writing between the lines and in a childlike script, wrote everything my overactive little mind could imagine.

Mrs. Lerner thought I was terrific.  She held up examples of my work as something others should imitate.  She pinned my stories and poems on the bulletin board.  You’d have thought that Mrs. Lerner had discovered Sylvia Plath was sitting in the third seat, second row over.

One year later, I had Mr. Gates for a teacher.  Mr. Gates thought my writing sucked. I went from the pinnacle of fourth grade success to the pitiless bottom of fifth grade suckiness.

That’s when I realized my final destiny — to be a writer.  To feel that pain again. That’s when I realized the reality of having others judge my writing — everyone has an opinion.

Two years after I graduated from Mr. Gates’ class, he checked himself into a mental institution.  I guess we all succeeded in doing what he always told us we would — we drove him crazy.

Maybe it was my writing...

Call me a sap...

This morning as I sat on the deck of the rental, drinking coffee and gazing out at the fields and mountains, a thought kept running through my head. I am a sap.

I love happy endings.

I told this over dinner the other night to a few people, friends of friends I had just met when they asked me what I write, and why I write it. The answer came to me like a slap on the head.

Yeah, I'm a sucker for relationship stories and I enjoy creating paranormal worlds and action, adventure and mystery.

But it's the happy endings in romance novels that give me the greatest reason to write what I write.

It's so peaceful here in TN, quiet and serene. One could get away from the world and its troubles, and I've had first hand encounters with some, mainly in the name of hunger and poverty encountered in my travels for the day job.

For nearly 19 years, I've worked hard at the day job to help those who are hungry, homeless and hurting. Sometimes I think it's not enough. Real life isn't fiction. It twists and turns like a mountain road, with a few surprises leaping out at you. Sometimes in the form of joy, sometimes sorrow.

But books, ah, books! I love being an author. And I love happy endings, which is why I write romance, and why every book I write has a happy ending. And why, as much as I adore good fiction and read outside my genre, I hesitate to pick up a book where I'm not certain all will be resolved.

No matter how awful the circumstances, how deep the conflict or how big the odds, when you read one of my books you can be assured the characters will be in love, realize their love, commit to each other and face life together by the time you read the last page.

Turn on the television these days, search the internet there is plenty of bad news.

It's why books are so important to me. They provide an escape, a respite, much like a cabin in the mountains of TN.

Real life is tough enough. It's why I am a sap for happy endings in books.

Guilty as charged.