"I am ready to meet my maker. Whether my maker is prepared to meet me is another matter."
-Winston Churchill

Friday, April 29, 2016

Cover Reveal: Curious Little Werewolf by Katie Salidas

Curious Little Werewolf
(Little Werewolf Book #2)
Available on Kindle
May 24th 2015
PreOrder your copy today!

Things would be perfect if supernatural disasters would quit creeping up and ruining Giselle’s happy new life. After finally finding the fur-ever home she’s always wanted a witch blows into town promising to reveal the bloody past of Giselle’s birth, and the circumstances that led the little werewolf to end up in the foster care system to begin with.
Hot on the witch’s trail, another pack of wolves is on the hunt for revenge, and will accept nothing less than her death in retribution for the havoc she’s wrought on them.
Caught in the crossfire, Giselle desires only the truth, and if the witch is who she claims to be, the little werewolf must protect her at any cost. If she’s lying, though, Giselle risks her own kind seeing her as a traitor. Neither her new pack nor her hottie witch boyfriend Damien can offer any help. 
Giselle is on her own again. And if she makes the wrong decision, she’ll lose the only link she has to her own past.



They eyed each other silently, neither one offering up a word to start the conversation. 
In the quiet between them, Giselle studied the scent. Definitely a perfume: natural oils of patchouli had been mixed with clary sage and just a hint of citronella. It worked well to mask the other synthetic smells of deodorant and floral soap that still clung to her body, but not well enough to trick Giselle’s nose. This woman was no wolf. She was definitely a witch, though. The pendant she wore was enough to give that away, and the Bohemian style clothing with flowing skirts and odd colorful patterns screamed “earth mother.”
The woman closed the distance between them after the silence had long since gone stale. “You do recognize me, don’t you?” There was an oddly hopeful edge in the woman’s voice that caught Giselle off guard. 
Should she recognize her? Sure, they both were redheads. But how many other ginger women in the world were there? That meant nothing. And if she was being truly honest with herself, all the faces of all the foster families that had taken her in and subsequently sent her back into the system had long since blurred together into one wretched image in her mind. If this woman had been a part of the foster system, she was barking up the wrong tree if she thought Giselle would welcome her back into her life with open arms.
“Sorry. No.” Giselle crossed her arms in front of her and stood firmly in place.
“Oh, but how could you?” A tear trickled from the corner of the woman’s eye. “I just thought… You were such a tiny thing the last time I held you in my arms.”
Giselle scoffed silently, remembering all the broken promises and false hope that came with each new family that took her in. “Lots of people held me in their arms… and dropped me just as quickly.”
Her words seemed to cut straight to the woman’s heart. More waterworks had her wiping her cheeks with the billowy sleeve of her shirt. “I know. I wish I could have given you a different life. You were meant for so much better things. But…I… sorry.” She sniffled, taking a few stuttered breaths, and then cleared her throat. “Giselle, I am so very sorry.”
“I never told you my name.” The woman’s tears had tugged at Giselle’s heart, but at the mention of her name, she was back on point. How much did this woman know of who she was? And why?
“I didn’t mean to come off so forward. I have just been searching for you for so long.” The woman reached a hand out as if to welcome her in for a hug, but Giselle took one step backwards, out of her reach.
Giselle opened her mouth to speak, but the words refused to come. The woman had all but admitted to being her mother. She had certainly made a show of emotions. But sad as they were, her sobs failed to stir the same feelings within Giselle. Numbness and confusion had Giselle’s feelings locked tighter than a bank vault. If she was her mother… But that wasn’t possible. She was no wolf. 

Release day will be here before you know it. Snag the PreOrder now and be first in line to see if the witch is telling Giselle the truth or not. 


Need to catch up on the Little Werewolf before book two comes out? 

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Monday, February 1, 2016

Giveaway & Interview With Author, Chris Karlsen

Chris Karlsen is a Chicago native. Her family moved to Los Angeles when she was in her late teens where she later studied at UCLA. She graduated with a Business Degree. The daughter of a history professor and a mother who was a voracious reader, she grew up with a love of history and books.  

Her parents were also passionate about traveling and passed their passion onto Chris. Once bitten with the travel bug, Chris spent most of her adult life visiting the places she'd read about and that fascinated her. Her travels have taken her Europe, the Near East, and North Africa, in addition to most of the United States. She most frequently visited England and France, where several of her books are set.   

After college, Chris spent the next twenty-five years in law enforcement with two agencies. Harboring a strong desire to write since her teens, upon retiring from police work, Chris decided to pursue her writing career. She writes three different series. Her historical romance series is called, Knights in Time. Her romantic thriller series is Dangerous Waters, and the latest book, Silk, is book one in her mystery/suspense series, The Bloodstone series.  

She currently lives in the Pacific Northwest with her husband and five wild and crazy rescue dogs.

Welcome to Immortality and Beyond. May I offer you a drink?
Zar, our Zombie Butler will fetch that for you. Zar…
I’ll take a Vampire Wine, red preferably on the dry side.

Thank you Zar
*Drools* while handing drink over…
*Rolling eyes* You may return to your quarters now. Please don’t mind him, sometimes he just gets so excited when we have guest authors. He’s only ever bitten somebody once, *grins*.
Now that we’re settled in, let’s chat. Shall we?
I’m ready.
BK: How did your writing journey begin?
After I retired from law enforcement, my husband suggested I write the book
I always told him I wanted to write. So, I sat down and began the book. At the same time, I also started looking for conferences and workshops and places to take classes to learn the craft.
BK: Please share with us how your current release came to life...
When I was writing the previous book in the series, the antagonist in that book was a knight I grew to really like. He wasn’t a villain. He was the enemy knight of the hero but a man who was fighting for his king and country. I thought he deserved a book of his own. As I introduced him in the end of that book to the sister of the heroine in the previous story, I now had a good lady love established for him.
As for the second hero, there was also a younger sister in the previous book. I put her in this story and for a hero I brought back a knight from Journey inTime. I had a very gruff, serious knight in that book and thought he’d be a perfect one to show a different side, give a romantic side. BK: Do you let your characters tell the story, or do you often fight with them on the direction it will take?
I don’t fight with them. If a surprise moment or action or reaction occurs to one of them, I let it happen. I have the philosophy that it popped into my head and happened to that character, it was for a reason. I let it stay unless there’s some compelling reason to change it down the road. I can’t think of when I’ve gone back and altered an event like that though.
BK: How do you keep your writing different from all the others that write in this particular genre?
I think for most authors it’s the characters and how we have them handle the obstacles we put in their way. Some authors write plot driven stories. I prefer to write character driven stories and try very hard to really nuance their personalities. I have them do things that should surprise the reader, both good and bad things. They aren’t perfect. I want them to do things that have the readers shaking their heads or thinking-“oh no!.”
I also work very hard on setting. I write either medieval or Victorian settings, depending on the series. I try to paint a strong visual of the period for the reader, the sights, the smells, the politics, the people, the food, the clothes. I try to immerse the reader in the time period the character is walking through.
I also give my heroes and heroines a big cast of support characters that I believe make my stories different.
BK: Which character was your favorite to write for in this story? Why?
Hard to say. If I must choose one, I’d say Electra. I liked letting her explore her skills as a chef using what she had available to her at the time. I enjoyed having her deal with the male attitude toward women, including the Prince’s and how he wanted to play matchmaker with her. I enjoyed showing how an ordinary woman thrown into an extraordinary circumstance could use her wits and skills to overcome a difficult situation. I liked making her shine without making her a superwoman, or a Lara Croft kick-ass over the top heroine.
BK: Tell us about one scene you had the most fun writing…
I liked the scene where Simon teaches Emily how to fish. Simon was so gruff and somber in Journey in Time. This was a scene where he was sweet and not quite but almost romantic. He’s not really a romantic man and not adept at it but in his own way he was close to it. This was one of the first glimpses of another side of him.
BK: If you were stranded on an island, which character in your books would you most want to be stranded with and why, and what is one thing that would be a must-have?
I hate having to pick one character because I love them all for a variety of reasons. I think I’d pick either Alex Lancaster from Knights in Time series or Rudyard Bloodstone. Both are smart and resourceful and have a great sense of humor and you need humor stuck on an island. I’d want my iPod for music.
BK: Now for a little fun, tell us a bit about what your office looks like. Do you need silence to write?
Not at all. I’d never get it if I did!! We have four crazy, hooligan rescue dogs. They go in and out all day long. My husband is a baseball agent and on the phone all day talking in the background. In the afternoon, he listens to CNN or in the season, baseball games. I often listen to my playlists. I can tune out anything or listen when I want. No problem.
BK: What do you like to do when you're not writing?
I read. At night, I watch television as I don’t write at night. I like to go to lunch with friends.
BK: What is one thing your readers would be most surprised to learn about you?
Considering I write a romance series, I struggle horribly with love scenes. I hate to write them. They take me forever to do. I have a dear writer friend who can just crank them out. I can do sword fights and battle scenes, easy. Love scenes—OMG. What work for me. I want them to be sensual and kind of hot but I’m not terribly emotional in real life so showing that sort of emotion doesn’t come easy for me.
BK: What is the craziest thing you’ve ever wanted to write, or have written, even if it never reached public eyes?
A modern day cop story. I used to have a NY agent and she insisted since I was a police detective for 25 years that I write a cop story. I told her I didn’t want to write cop stories but she insisted. I hated it. Ultimately, she left the agency. The agency dumped all their unpublished authors (like me) and I was stuck with a story I never wanted to write. I tried to market it but it never went anywhere. I finally shredded it two months ago.
BK: What is one piece of advice you can give to aspiring writers/authors?
Develop a thick skin. When you receive constructive criticism, whether from an instructor or critique group (notice I said constructive), listen with an open mind. Keep in mind your first draft and likely your second and third aren’t perfect. Also, once you’re published you are probably going to have some bad reviews. That comes with the territory. Not everyone is going to love your “baby.” Accept that and move on from the bad reviews. When you’re pitching agents and editors, you’ll get many, many rejects. Again, accept that and keep heart.
BK: What can we expect from you in the future?
I’m currently working on the sequel to Silk, my Victorian suspense the Bloodstone series. After that, I may do a fifth book in the Knights in Time series. We’ll see.
BK: Where can readers connect with you?
I can be emailed at: chriskarlsenwriter@gmail.com
BK: Using your name as an acronym, please describe your book...
CK=Charming Knights 

Back cover blurb for In Time For You 

While horseback riding in the English countryside, sisters, Electra and Emily Crippen find themselves trapped in a tear in time. Thrown back to 1357 England and caught by a local noble, they are in a place that is home but as frightening and unfamiliar as an alien world would be. With no idea how the tear in time came about, the one thing they do know is: they must stay together and stay near to where the event took place in hopes of discovering the way back to their modern life. That certain need to stay together is the first certainty taken from them when one sister is forced to remain in England and one is sent miles away to Wales by royal order.   

There is one other hope for help the sisters don’t know exists. It’s Electra’s lover, Roger Marchand. A time traveler himself, he never told her of his past. When he realizes what has happened to the sisters, he enlists the help of a scientist friend to help him open the suspected passageway through time. Any effort to save Electra and Emily will likely cost him his life. This was the time Roger came from, a time when his country, France, was at war with England. If he is discovered on English soil while searching for the sisters, he will either be killed or taken prisoner of war. Any risk is worth saving the life of the woman he loves.  

While she ate, the button on Electra's sleeve fell out of the frog loop. She didn't hook the button again, reaching for her wine instead. The sleeve pulled back from her wrist to expose her watch, which she hadn't thought to remove.  

"What is that?" Simon asked and pointed to her Seiko. 

"A watch." What a bizarre question. There wasn't a corner of the planet that people didn't recognize a wristwatch.  

A frown slowly formed and he stretched across Emily and took hold of Electra's hand to tug it toward him for a better look. He turned her hand over and in a matter of seconds had the clasp undone.  
 He brought the candle in front of his trencher closer and held the watch under it. "What do the numbers mean?" 

"It's a clock, a miniature timepiece you wear on your wrist." 

From his expression, the explanation puzzled him. "Do they not have candle clocks in this Greenland you claim you're from?" 

How to explain the abundance of various clocks to a man who apparently has no context for the anything beyond a candle clock or similar ancient means of telling time? 

"Are you saying you've never seen a clock?" Emily asked. 

"One like this? No, I have not." 

Emily bent her head nearer Electra and whispered, "Are you thinking what I am?" 

"Sadly, yes." 

Simon ran his finger over the watch face. "These small digits, what is their meaning?"  

"It's the date and year: 5.14.15."  

He shook his head. "What year is 15?" 

"2015, of course." 

"You are mad. It's the year of our Lord, 1357." 

"What year were you born?" 

"1327, why?" 

Electra didn't care for the speed which Simon answered. She held onto the small hope this was some odd reality show and that he'd stumble or hesitate before coming up with a year. "No reason, I was just curious." She turned to Richard who'd been chatting with the serving girl. She tapped his arm. Getting his attention she asked, "Richard, what year is this?"  

He tipped his head like a dog hearing a strange noise. She assumed he too thought her mad for asking. "1357. Do you measure your years differently in your native country?" 
 "Yes, it's a different time there." A different world. She looked over at Emily, who'd been listening. The color had drained from her face.  
 For both their sakes, Electra fought to keep from falling apart in front of the whole room. She failed and began to tremble uncontrollably. She balled her hands into fists and turned from Simon to Richard. "I need to go outside. I feel sick." 

"I'd like to go too," Emily told Simon. 

"I'll go as well." He smiled. "Just to make certain nothing untoward befalls you." 

There’s atwo randomly chosen commenters, and 2 e-copies of In Time For You to

two randomly chosen commenters.
Watch for my upcoming review on Valentine's Day! Thank you so much for stopping in

Chris. It was a pleasure talking to you.

Friday, June 12, 2015

6 Besties With Author Kate Deveaux - Cockpit Book Tour & Giveaway

6 Besties With Author Kate Deveaux

Kate Deveaux

Please share your 6 bests, telling us from the topics below. Write as much, as little, and provide as many images as you'd like.

1. Best writing wardrobe. I write everyday so it’s pretty much whatever I have on which is usually some sort of tennis skirt and a comfy tee or sweater if it’s winter. A real luxury is writing in my bathrobe

2. Best Inspiration for writing. I find going on vacation no matter how close to home unleashes creative thought. That and a day by the pool work wonders.

3. Best writing place. My favorite chair in my living room, with my laptop, a cup of tea, and a little notebook to jot down things that pop into my head about the plot while I’m writing.

4. Best Pick-Me-Up book. There are a few books that really make me feel good. I have to say a Maeve Binchy such as Evening Class works every time. I’m transported to a different world and immersed in the daily lives of her Dublin characters. Also, Elin Hilderbrand and Wendy Wax are good beach reads and feel good reads.

5. Best secret talent. Now it wouldn’t be secret now if I told you, would it? Okay, okay, here’s one: I have a bit of a photographic memory. I know, that’s like being a little pregnant, LOL, but I do have a pretty good photographic memory. Comes in handy let me tell you.

6. Best experience or writing idea. Best writing idea…go to a coffee shop and observe (and listen). Guaranteed ideas for a book if you sit and watch while you sip your latte.

Thank you so much for having me today!

Always fun stopping by to chat.



Cockpit Throttle Up
Book One
Kate Deveaux

Genre: Erotic Romance

Publisher: Ellora’s Cave
Date of Publication: June 3, 2015

ISBN: 9781419991868

Number of pages: 65
Word Count: 30,000

Book Description:

It seems turbulence isn’t always caused by weather.

Throttle up as past loves collide…

High school sweethearts re unite forty years later at 37,000 feet.

Fifty eight year old commercial airline pilot, Bobbi Cooper, gets a blast from the past when her high school sweetheart, Mack McConnell, appears as one her first class passengers on her 747 transatlantic flight to London.

Used to being in control at all times, Bobbi is reeling from a crummy marriage and she must learn at Mack’s capable hands that losing control can be oh so sexy.

Available at Amazon BN Ellora’s Cave


There was silence. Then the familiar sensation of her stomach being dragged down, right down to her standard issue black shoes. G force. It was the same every time.
Flicking off the autopilot and taking control of the 747, Bobbi gripped the throttle in her right hand, fearlessly pushing it forward. Slow and even. The plane bounced and shook in the wake turbulence of a passing 767. The muffled sounds of passengers’ outbursts at the sudden drop mingled with the clatter and clang of the galley carts that Bobbi damn well hoped were secured as she’d ordered.
They had to head to higher airspace. Now.
Bobbi knew better than to heed the shrill rapid warnings echoing throughout the cockpit to urgently trim to turbulence penetration airspeed.
Scott, her first officer, nodded as they increased power and held the jet seemingly against its will. Dozens of lights flashed. Air traffic control rattled off a series of confirmations when she pressed the plane higher, the metal creaking as she forced nearly a million pounds of steel and its occupants upward.
Pushing the throttle hard, Bobbi knew smooth air was only a few moments away. Under her guidance, the plane jostled and battled its way through the rough air. A sudden bump, followed by another, then the resulting loud gasp from the passengers.
Holding firm at her command, they broke through the rough air into an eerie smoothness as they glided seemingly effortlessly into calmer airspace.
Bobbi exhaled, only now aware she’d been holding her breath. Turbulence was an everyday occurrence for a seasoned pilot like herself, but this had caught her off guard. A heady mix of bad weather and the wake turbulence of the other aircraft had left her reeling when she tried to steady the 747 inbound for Heathrow.
Scott turned away to double-check some details with the flight engineer seated behind him. Bobbi wiped a trickle of sweat from her brow when he wasn’t looking. As captain of the immense beast, Bobbi couldn’t let her fellow officers—or any crew for that matter—see her sweat under pressure. And that was becoming more of an issue, since hot flashes were now often brought on not by an adrenaline rush from flying but by Mother Nature.
Bobbi Cooper couldn’t believe she would be fifty-eight next year. Where had the time gone?
She knew damn well where it had gone. First a stepping-stone career in the Air Force and then thirty years flying commercial. Enough to establish her as one of the highest-ranking woman pilots in the country as a 747 captain for Atlantica airlines.
Perfect,” Bobbi said, switching back to autopilot and settling the aircraft into the calmer and higher altitude.
Scott did as she ordered and tinkered with the gauges, she watched. Once she was sure all was under control, Bobbi unbuckled her shoulder harness and rose from her seat, reassured all was secure.
Keep her on route—I’m stepping back for a moment. You two got it?” she asked, standing behind her first officer Scott and her flight engineer Neville, the new recruit fresh from a small regional airline.
Sure, Bob, we got it,” Scott said casually, calling her by the familiar cockpit nickname. “Have them send up some coffee while you’re back there.”
Bobbi buzzed for the flight attendant to open the cockpit door. Standard procedure after 9/11. Bobbi peered out through the peephole. It was Sandy, the flight attendant with a penchant for displaying her ample cleavage by wearing her uniform extra tight, so it hugged all her curves. But it wasn’t only her inappropriate dress that annoyed Bobbi. It was the fact she’d also had fucked Bobbi’s husband.
But then again, who hasn’t?
After divorce and company paid-for counseling, Bobbi had come to the realization, and then acceptance, that Sandy was just one on a long list of Greg’s conquests. She did her best not to hold a grudge, but that was a constant challenge, as she ran into Sandy more than she would have liked. Once a century was about what Bobbi could tolerate, although it had been cleared by corporate that they were fine to work together. And they were. Bobbi was a professional. Through and through. She’d fought tooth and nail for her job, and with three and a half years until retirement, with the promise of a cushy pension waiting for her, which she’d only have to marginally share with Greg according to the settlement, there was no way she was going to let Sandy or any of the others put her off her game.
How’d everyone do?” Bobbi asked Sandy with her cool, composed captain’s demeanor. It was the one piece of her dignity she’d salvaged among the women flight attendants, a good majority of whom had been treated to Greg’s lustful attentions.
Sandy motioned with her head back toward the passenger area. “Fine,” she reported. “Chucker in aisle sixteen and a few more farther back, but they should be fine now.”
Chuckers. That was what they called the passengers who couldn’t hang on to lunch during a bumpy flight. Today had been a doozy, and it wasn’t over yet.
Bobbi noticed with subtle irritation that Sandy’s blouse strained against her perky breasts as she efficiently flicked the switch on the coffee machine. Her bosom jiggled while she scooped ice into a plastic cup and pulled a can of tomato juice out of the galley cart. Shit. Greg really hadn’t had a chance. Big brown doe eyes and a body that wouldn’t quit. The sexy flight attendant was everything Bobbi wasn’t. Not that it mattered now. Greg was on to new, greener pastures. Her ex was consistent she scoffed —his conquests all had one, no make that two things in common— big knockers and tiny, round asses. Men were shit, really. Why she had let herself be demeaned and embarrassed by his bad behavior for as long as she had, she’d never know.
C’est le vie, Bobbi coached herself as she smiled her most innocuous smile at Sandy.
Plan for a bumpy ride in to Heathrow—there’ll be some more weather ahead,” Bobbi warned her. “Might need more bags.”
Sure thing, Captain,” Sandy said as she snapped open the lid on the can, poured the tomato juice over ice and handed it to Bobbi.
Bobbi nodded her appreciation and gulped down her customary in-flight refreshment. “I’m going back for a few minutes,” she said, handing the empty cup back to Sandy before pulling back the curtain to first class. “And send some coffee in for Scott and Neville before we head down, please.”
Entering the first-class cabin on her way to the pilot’s rest area located between first class and business, Bobbi scanned the spacious cabin. Most of her passengers were now contentedly dozing, oblivious to the formidable battle she’d been waging in the cockpit to keep them in precariously calm airspace. But that was her job—to deliver five hundred souls safely to London.
Sunlight illuminated the plush first-class cabin through a few half-drawn window shades, but not quite to enough to keep the blinding sun from searing into her eyes. Squinting, she walked down the aisle, passing by the first row.
A collective gasp came from the passengers when the plane hit another deep air pocket. Bobbi reached out to steady herself, placing her hand on the headrest of the second row seat for a brief second, smiling reassuringly at the surrounding passengers. She was their pilot, after all.
The passenger in the nearest seat looked up at her.
Bobbi smiled down, then did a double take.
Bobbi?” the male passenger asked, looking up at her. “Bobbi…Bobbi Cooper?”
Yes,” Bobbi said, instantly recognizing his features. Her mind was spinning. Those dark-blue eyes. And that unmistakable voice. Velvety and thick. The way scotch felt when it slid down her throat. She’d know that voice and that face anywhere. Even if it had been forever.
It was Mack.

About the Author:

Kate Deveaux is a contemporary, erotic romance writer and die-hard romantic. It was after reading Jane Eyre in high school, that she became hooked on the idea of writing about romance, excitement and drama. Kate has been penning stories, from the sensual to the sinfully sexy, ever since.

A former wedding planner, Kate has always been "in love" with love! She was inspired to transition from writing racy short stories to full length manuscripts after meeting other authors in the romance world at industry workshops, conferences and events. Originally from England, now resides in the U.S. with her husband. When she’s not writing or reading, Kate can be found on the tennis court—yes, there’s even "love" in that game too!

Street Team Kate’s Kittens:

Tour giveaway

5 $10.00 Amazon Giveaways

3 Copies of ebook Bride Undone

3 Copies of ebook Platinum Pleasures

2 Copies of ebook Academy of Love

2 Copies of ebook Sail Away With Me

Link to entry form