Thursday, April 2, 2020

Buddy flick epic fantasy! #giveaway #fantasy #worldbuilding @GailZMartin

Sellsword's Oath cover

Today I’m delighted to be hosting fantasy author Gail Z. Martin. She’s touring with her latest release Sellsword’s Oath, the second book in her Assassins of Landria series. When I signed up to host her, I gave her the following questions:

How do you go about creating an entire world, like Landria? Where do the inspirations come from? How do you keep track of the historical, cultural and geographical details of a fantasy world? 

Here’s her reply!

World-building is one of my favorite parts of writing epic fantasy. I studied medieval history in college, and have had a life-long interest in the subject. That comes in handy when I need to create the world in which one of my series takes place.

The inspirations come from real history, and how people have organized their kingdoms and empires over the centuries. To make it feel real, I need to understand the political structure, the economics, the geography and the religion/beliefs of the world—which means taking time to sit down and think about what pieces need to be brought together to create the circumstances in which this particular story could take place. For me, that’s a lot of fun, and I get to do some deep dives into things that actually happened in our world, so I can tweak and adjust them to work in my fiction.

All the pieces need to fit together so that the reader isn’t pulled out of the story by something that doesn’t make sense. That means keeping track of the details from book to book so that I don’t contradict myself. Luckily, my husband (who is also an author and with whom I collaborate) keeps the series ‘bible’ on those important things!

My goal is to make the world feel real to the reader, like they’ve been dropped into another place and time. When the world and the setting are right, the story flows a lot faster. When I bog down on the story, it’s usually because I don’t have the details clear in my mind.

A reader may or may not notice the background details in a book (or a movie), but they contribute by making the story something that could only happen in that time and place. And for those who do enjoy being a ‘tourist’ in a fictional world, those little details mean a lot!


Buddy flick epic fantasy! The second in the Assassins of Landria series from the award-winning, bestselling author of Scourge: A Novel of Darkhurst and The Chronicles Of The Necromancer books!

Wandering mystic Yefim Makary, known to his followers as the ‘Witch Lord’, disappeared before he could be accused of inciting dissent against King Kristoph. His supporters among the disenchanted aristocrats who weren’t arrested have fled or died by their own hand. The king is happy to put the matter behind him. Yet Burke, the commander of the elite King’s Shadows, doesn’t believe the threat is over, and he assigns his two most troublesome, rule-breaking—and successful—assassins to ferret out the real threat and put a stop to Makary’s plots.

Joel “Ridge” Breckinridge and Garrett “Rett” Kennard rose through the ranks of the Landrian army together, from teenaged conscripts to seasoned fighters. Together, they became the most feared team of assassins in Landria, surviving longer that most in their profession by virtue of excellent fighting skills, legendary bravado, peerless strategy, and an uncanny synchronicity.

As the threads of a new plot come together revealing disloyalty among the priests and generals, Ridge and Rett once again find themselves on the run, hoping they and their allies can figure out the Witch Lord’s latest scheme before it costs them their lives—and the king his throne.


The trick, when setting off gunpowder, was to be far enough away.

Ridge had never been good at that part.

He’d almost reached the embankment when he heard the shot from Rett’s matchlock. Knowing what was about to happen next, Ridge dove into the ravine, taking his chances with brambles and thickets over flying rocks and shattered glass.

Behind him, the country manor exploded in a fireball as Rett’s shot touched off the barrels of gunpowder on its roof. That would bring down the ceiling and blow the bombers on the roof sky high while trapping the traitors inside, where they’d either be killed by the blast or buried in the rubble for the king’s guards to collect.

Ridge grunted as he tumbled over roots and rocks, tucking his arms over his face and trusting his leather cuirass to take the brunt of the hits. Even so, rock dust settled like snow over the whole area, and small bits of stone pelted like hail.

To keep it all official, Ridge had nailed the letter of marque to a tree in front of the manor, after he had ensured that no one but the smugglers were inside the abandoned country house. The smugglers—and their rivals on the roof—were already in the process of setting explosives when Ridge and Rett arrived to carry out the assassination. That was a bonus, killing two sets of troublemakers in one swoop and without the personal danger of getting close enough to throw a knife or slit a throat.

He trusted Rett to stay in position, where he would be able to pick off stragglers from his vantage point high in a sturdy tree. Ridge dragged himself to his feet, brushed off the worst of the dirt, and climbed back up the slope. Once he got to the top of the embankment, he would have a good view to spot anyone who might have escaped the explosion and eluded Rett’s aim.

Damn,” he muttered when he reached the top and saw the results.

About the Author

Gail Z. Martin writes epic fantasy, urban fantasy and steampunk for Solaris Books, Orbit Books, SOL Publishing, Darkwind Press, and Falstaff Books. Recent books include Witch of the Woods, Sellsword’s Oath, Inheritance, and Night Moves. With Larry N. Martin, she is the co-author of the Spells Salt & Steel, Wasteland Marshals, Joe Mack and Jake Desmet series. As Morgan Brice, she writes urban fantasy MM paranormal romance including the Witchbane, Badlands and Treasure Trail series. Recent books include Loose Ends and Unholy.

Find her at, on Twitter @GailZMartin, on, at blog and on Goodreads Never miss out on the news and new releases—newsletter signup link 

Follow her Amazon author page here: 

And get a free complete short story, Catspaw, here:

Join her Facebook group, the Shadow Alliance

 Gail Z. Martin will be awarding a $25 Amazon or Barnes and Noble GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour.

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Wednesday, April 1, 2020

Time to Feed Your Reader! #FreeBooks #Giveaway

Feed Your Reader logo

Is the news getting you down? Are you staying away from people to try to stay healthy? Are you looking for things to help you beat cabin fever?

Let us help you!!!

Here's a great way to fill up your eReader and save money, too!

Click on this link: to find books in your favorite genres that are currently only $0.99 or maybe even FREE and feed your reader!!!

We have all the subgenres of romance: contemporary, historical, erotic, romantic suspense, scifi and fantasy romance, paranormal romance... along with many many other genres... check them out to see if you find something that tickles your fancy!

There's also a chance for you to win a $25 Amazon/BN GC - check out the Rafflecopter at the end of the post.

Here are the links to different categories:

Non-romance Science Fiction or Fantasy:

As part of this event, I’m promoting my free story collection Crowd Pleaser: Sexy Shorts. Here’s a teaser from “Reunion”, a BDSM romance tale from that collection. You can get the whole book free, in any ebook format, at Smashwords.

Three years since I last saw him, and now his plane is late. I perch on the edge of the chair across from the American Airlines desk where he told me to meet him, tension winding me tighter with every moment.

It's always like this. My chest aches. It's difficult to breathe. My nipples are as taut and swollen as if he already had them wrapped in elastic bands. I try not to be distracted by the stickiness between my bare thighs. I glance at the arrivals screen. His flight has just landed. Ten minutes, fifteen at most, before I can expect him. I fill my lungs deliberately and try to slow my racing pulse.

I hover between joy and terror. It has been so long, too long. What will he think of me, the strands of gray in my hair, the new wrinkles? What will he ask of me? Will I be able to give him what he needs? I remember other reunions, too few, too short. No time for more than a few kisses, a few playful swats on my bared butt.
I remember lying on his lap in Golden Gate Park, my skirt flipped up around my waist. I can precisely recreate my shame and my excitement. I recall slouching down in the front seat of his car in a dark, sweltering parking garage, while he unbuttoned my blouse and dabbled his fingers in my cunt, naming me as his slut. A few hours every few years is all we manage, a country and my marriage separating us even as our history and our fantasies draw us together.

Today will be different. I've booked us a hotel room, in this city where neither of us live. We have the entire day. My husband waits for me at home, while I wait here in the airport for my master.

I don't call him that to his face. He'd mock me, his voice bitter. “If I were your master, I'd simply order to you leave him and come to me, and you would.” He doesn't give me that order, although I suspect that he's tempted. He refrains, out of respect for me and my choices, or maybe in fear that his power over me is not as great as he would like to imagine. He spares us both, and I'm grateful, though now, waiting, burning to see him again, I almost wish that he'd put me to that ultimate test and take away the awful yearning that I feel when we're apart.

Every one of my senses is on alert, yet he manages to surprise me. I'm looking toward the gates. He comes from the other direction and calls to me softly. “Sarah.”

I start and then laugh nervously. When I stand up, my bag tumbles off my lap to the floor, toys clattering inside. “You're here!” I feel clumsy, silly, stupid, but when he bends to kiss me, everything but the joy disappears. I'm flooded with it, gasping, overwhelmed.

In his limbs I feel his pitiless strength. His lips, though, are gentle, questioning. Am I still his? I melt, open my mouth and my mind to him. Does he sense the answer? Sometimes I am certain that he reads my thoughts. He laughs ironically and calls me suggestible. I don't know what to believe, which suits him perfectly. He wants me a bit off-balance.

I struggle to act normal, as if I were just meeting an old friend. “How was your flight? Did you have trouble with your connections? What about your baggage? Is that the only jacket you have? October here can be kind of chilly...”

Hush,” he says, laying a blunt finger upon my lips. “Don't chatter. Take me to the hotel.” 

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Participating authors have pooled their resources to support a giveaway. 

One randomly selected reader will receive a $25 bookstore gift certificate.

 Use the Rafflecopter below to enter!

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Tuesday, March 31, 2020

Review Tuesday: The Flying Troutmans by Miriam Toews #ReviewTuesday #Literature #Family

The Flying Troutmans by Miriam Toews
Random House Canada, 2008

Sane families are all alike; every crazy family is crazy in its own way.

With apologies to Leo Tolstoy, this could well be the tag line for Miriam Toews’ original and moving novel, The Flying Troutmans.

Hattie Troutman is living in Paris, trying to adjust to being dumped by her boyfriend, when she gets a long-distance call from her eleven year old niece Thebes (short for Theodora) in Manitoba. Hattie’s older sister Min has, once again, descended into severe depression, leaving Thebes and her brother Logan to cope alone. In fact Hattie has fled to France to escape from her apparent inability to help her brilliant and disturbed sibling. However, she can’t leave the two kids without supervision, despite the fact at twenty six she’s aimless, confused and hardly feels like an adult herself.

She arrives to find everything including the house falling apart. Min had been hospitalized and won’t speak to Hattie or the children. Logan’s about to be expelled from school. Thebes hasn’t taken a shower in a week.

Desperate to do something, Hattie piles the kids into their aging Aerostar van along with a slew of music CDs, a box of art supplies and a cooler of soda. They hit the road to look for the kids’ long-lost father Cherkis, who disappeared into the vast U.S. after Min kicked him out. Following rumor and instinct, the Troutmans zigzag through the American heartland – South Dakota, Wyoming, Colorado, Arizona, finally making it to the Mexican border – in a quest that doesn’t really bring them any closer to solutions, but does help them understand how much they love and need one another.

The description above doesn’t really do this book justice, though. All the characters are bizarre, quirky, and extreme. Thebes and Logan (who’s a moody, hormonal fifteen year old) have a precocious intelligence and unfettered creativity that make their conversations a gift. Hattie has no control over them – indeed, very little over herself – as she stumbles along, trying without much success to play the role of competent guardian. The shadow of Min hangs over them all: Min who has tried to kill herself so many times that she’s bound to get it right eventually.

I thought about pulling some quotes into this review, but discovered that the stream-of-consciousness flow of the novel doesn’t lend itself to carving out snippets. Suffice to say that this book is a joy, even when the themes are dark and the times apparently desperate. The Flying Troutmans provides grace and humor on every page. The kids are annoying, sometimes even disgusting, yet you cannot help but adore them. And maybe, as I did, you’ll feel a sense of kinship, a familiarity that reminds you’ve experienced some of this sort of insanity in your own family.

I highly recommend The Flying Troutmans. It might well bring tears to your eyesit did to mine - but it will also leave you smiling.

Monday, March 30, 2020

He’s the man she’s been waiting for - #RomanticSuspense #PhoenixAgency @TinaDonahue

Deadly Diagnosis cover


A lifesaving gift…a plan for domination and death.

Within her unique DNA, Kimana holds the means to cure any illness permanently, a talent she’s used on those in her Shoshone community. When the billionaire owner of a pharmaceutical concern accidentally discovers what she can do, he fears the end to disease and his profits, and wants her dead.

As a member of the Phoenix Agency, Lucas arrives to protect Kimana from those set on her destruction. Ex-military intelligence, he’s seen a lot but no one like her, a woman seemingly born for him, her presence needed in his life, her gift as unique as his paranormal talent. To Kimana, he’s the man she’s been waiting for.

Together, they battle an adversary driven by insatiable greed who’ll stop at nothing to take what he wants. When her and Lucas’s lives are at risk, her gift can only save one before draining her life force and threatening her existence.

A sacrifice she’s willing to make for Lucas.


A distressed or weary sigh wafted into this room from the kitchen.

The narrow doorway leading into it didn’t allow much view, simply a counter and low cabinets painted a sunny yellow, long female legs dangling over them.

Lucas dipped to the side to see more.

Kaku slipped her arm through his. “My granddaughter’s in the kitchen. We’ll talk there.” She pulled him toward it and leaned close, her mouth near his ear. “I’m afraid she was against you coming today, but I insisted.” Her voice lowered to a whisper. “You’ll have to win her over, though I’m sure you will.”

Another matter Dan had failed to mention.

Considering Poca followed them, Lucas spoke as quietly as she had. “Are she and the officer married?”

Heavens no. I’m not certain they’re even friends any longer.” She pulled him inside the kitchen. “Kimana, please get down and greet our guest.”

Lucas hoped she would since every word he’d known had drifted away. His pulse ticked up, and his cock thickened.

Given her long legs, he guessed her to be five-eight or so standing. A good height to match a tall man. Youth blessed her pretty features, telling him she was, at most, late twenties. She’d worked her glossy black hair into a long braid that hung over her narrow shoulder. The script on her T-shirt read: Bossy Jerk Meet A PO’D Feminist — Let’s See Who Wins.

Little wonder she and Poca weren’t buddies any longer.

Lucas fought a pleased smile at her fire and tightened nipples. Those babies poked her smooth cotton top, the fabric hugging her like skin. The same for her fashionably ragged jeans.

He liked her cowboy boots. Referring to them as cowgirl wouldn’t have been right for such a spirited woman. One he was eager to meet and win over, as Kaku had said. “Hi.” He held out his hand. “I’m Lucas Byrne from the Phoenix Agency.”

She frowned at him then gave it to Poca.

He pushed past Lucas, knocking his shoulder to reach her side. “I’ll get rid of him. He and that damn agency won’t bother you—”

Why are you still here?” Her scowl worsened. “No.” She lifted her hand before he could answer, protest, or draw his gun. “Why did you bother coming over? Kaku didn’t send for you and I sure as fuck didn’t.”

Kimana.” The old woman sagged. “Must you use such language?”

At the admonition, regret rose in her dark-brown eyes, love and respect quickly replacing the first emotion.

Lucas’s dick hardened further. A curious though reasonable response. Her gutsy side was something, the feminine part even better. There weren’t many men he knew who could resist her soulful gaze, Poca included.

The poor guy edged toward her.

Her hard look not only stopped Poca but encouraged him to retreat to a far corner where he stayed. For the moment.

She gave Kaku a remorseful smile. “Sorry. I’ll be better. Mr. Byrne.” She didn’t come down from the counter, join him, or shake his hand. “You shouldn’t have come. I don’t need your help.”

He kept his manner non-threatening and gracious. “That isn’t what I heard.”

About the Author

Tina is an Amazon and international bestselling novelist who writes romance for every taste – ‘heat with heart’ – for traditional publishers and indie. Booklist, Publisher’s Weekly, Romantic Times and numerous online sites have praised her work. Three of her erotic novels were Readers' Choice Award winners. Another three were named finalists in the EPIC competition. One of her erotic contemporary romances was chosen Book of the Year at the French review site Blue Moon reviews. The Golden Nib Award at Miz Love Loves Books was created specifically for one of her erotic romances. Two of her titles received an Award of Merit in the RWA Holt Medallion competition. Another two won second place in the NEC RWA contest (different years). Tina is featured in the Novel & Short Story Writer’s Market. Before penning romances, she worked at a major Hollywood production company in Story Direction.

Amazon author page:

My page at TRR:

Sweet ‘n Sexy Divas:

Romance Books 4 US:

Saturday, March 28, 2020

Saturday Spanks: Routine Maintenance - #AuthorsGiveBack #FreeReading #SaturdaySpanks

Saturday Spanks banner

I know you’ve been good all week – staying at home, taking care of business, resisting the impulse to throw caution to the winds and break out of lockdown.

Now it’s the weekend, and it’s time to get, at least vicariously, naughty!

For today’s Saturday Spanks, here’s a bit from “Routine Maintenance”, one of the stories in my Hearts & Handcuffs collection.

And in case you’ve forgotten, this book is now totally free on Smashwords:

Master? Here I am.”

Carlos whirled around. There was girl in the room, on her knees just inside the doorway. No, not a girl, a woman. Her delicate build made her seem young and vulnerable, but when Carlos looked more closely, he noted her small but well-rounded breasts and hips that swelled in an inviting way from her tiny waist.

Her head was bowed and her sun-streaked hair fell over her eyes, so he couldn't see her face. She kneeled with her thighs apart. It was clear that she was naked underneath her black miniskirt. She kept her hands clasped at the small of her back, in a position Carlos recognized from all his BDSM videos. The humble attitude of a slave.

What—who are you?”

I'm sorry, Master. Mistress Liza sent me to you for a spanking. She said that she was at her wit's end with me, but that you'd know how to punish me as I deserve.” The woman dared a quick look at him through her bangs. “Didn't she call you, sir?”

I, um, I don't remember hearing anything from her.”

Oh, I’m sorry, sir! Please excuse me for intruding. If you'd like me to come back at a more convenient time...”

No, no, never mind.” Carlos' thoughts stumbled over themselves. He didn't want the girl to leave. But what was he supposed to do with her? Should he tell her that she'd made a mistake? “What did your mistress say about me?”

Ah, well, she said that you were stronger and stricter than she is, cruel and without mercy. That you'd tan my bottom crimson and make me beg you to stop. That you'd spank me so hard that I truly wouldn't be able to bear it. That it would be a week before I could sit down.”

Carlos' cock twitched at her graphic description. She sounded suspiciously enthusiastic, not frightened the way she should be, if he really were the fearsome Dom that she took him for.

She was offering herself to him. She wanted him to spank her.

How could he turn down this opportunity?

But she was so petite. She looked so fragile. Sure, he knew the basics, but he'd never actually practiced any of the techniques that he studied every night on the Internet. What if he hurt her, really damaged her, not just spanked her butt raw that way he imagined?

What did you do, slave, to deserve this punishment?” He tried to make himself sound gruff and severe, to disguise his own excitement. To hear the word “slave” coming from his own lips sent a hot sizzle down his spine.

I—um—I came without the Mistress' permission. While she was paddling me.”

I see. You're an undisciplined slut, are you?”

Yes, sir. I couldn't help myself.”

Well, I know how to teach you a lesson.” He only hoped that he did. He settled himself in the armchair. “Crawl to me, slave. Now.”

She was kneeling at his feet before he could count to three, once more in position, eyes on the gap between her thighs.

Look at me,” Carlos ordered. She had violet eyes and a ripe mouth that cried out for kisses— or bruises. Her flushed cheeks and quick breathing told him that she was aroused already.

On my lap. And no wiggling or rubbing against me. If you come while I spank you, I'll hang you up on the cross for the rest of the day.”

Holy mother, he was scaring himself! She scrambled up and flopped onto his knees. She was obviously familiar with this position as well. She parted her legs and pressed her toes against the floor to stabilize her body. Her pelvis rested on his right thigh, her chest on his left. Her arms dangled awkwardly. She didn't dare touch him without permission.

Hands at the back of your neck. Arch your back.” The shift pressed her cushiony tits against his leg. He wished that she was naked, that they both were, so he could feel her pebbly nipples against his bare skin. But he didn't want to break the momentum by telling her to strip. Instead, he peeled her tight little skirt back towards her waist to expose her ass.

Two half-moons, pale and creamy, with a shadowed crevice between them. Perfect. Unblemished. If she was accustomed to being spanked, there was certainly no sign on those virginal buttocks. Her scent rose from the half-hidden pocket of her sex, musky and feral, much darker than he would have expected. She's a slut, Carlos thought, a pain slut who gets off on being beaten.

He raised his arm and brought his open palm down hard on that milky flesh. Her gasp sent a bolt of electricity straight to his groin.

Nasty little whore! No underwear, and with such a short skirt.” He slapped her again. “You like pain? I'll give you real pain.”

His palm stung as he smacked her butt as hard as he could, first one cheek and then the other. Each stroke kindled a pink bloom on the woman's bottom, with rosy streaks marking the path of his fingers. Each stroke made her whimper and writhe against him. He hardened in response, unable to control his reactions.

He spanked her harder, aiming for the sensitive spot at the crease where her bottom and thighs met.
She yelped at the sudden increment in pain. “Be still! I told you, none of your tricks. If you come, believe me, I'll make you sorry.”

Carlos laid into her, doubling the speed and force of his blows. He wasn't exactly angry, but he was determined to give the girl the walloping that she deserved. She was a minx, no question. He could understand why Mistress Liza was so annoyed.

Friday, March 27, 2020

What would you do for success? @thomwolf #MMRomance #Contemporary

Never Too Famous cover

They’ll do anything for fame, whatever the cost.

Harry Alexander and Grant Hunter are big names in reality TV, but they couldn’t be more different. For Harry, fame happened by chance. He was working as a marine engineer on a cruise ship when the liner became the subject of a fly-on-the-wall documentary series. Harry’s good looks and charming personality made him an immediate hit with viewers, and he became the break-out star of the show.

Grant Hunter took no chances in his pursuit of fame. Having starred in the outrageous reality show Sexy Northerners, he grabbed success with both hands and didn’t let go. Grant is prepared to do whatever it takes to stay at the top—red-carpet appearances, parties, high-profile romances and X-rated videos. He’ll do anything in the name of self-promotion to maintain his notorious reputation.

When Harry arrives in Grant’s home city of Manchester, they have preconceived ideas about each other. As they realize they have more in common than they ever thought, they must overcome prejudice, rivalry and the social and professional barriers placed before them, if they’re ever to get together

Success Series Blurb

Fame, money, power. Some men will do anything for them. In every field, it’s a cut-throat race to the top, littered with deceit, passion and love. For those strong enough to get what they want, maintaining it is never easy.

Reality TV stars, footballers, lawyers, singers and movies stars—join them as they discover what they’re each prepared to pay to preserve their success.

Buy Links



The bars along the canal were busy for a Sunday evening. People sat at the outside tables, laughing and drinking. From the corner of his eye, he clocked that someone had recognized him and was moving in his direction. Harry tucked his chin and kept walking. He wanted to reach his room, lock the door and spend some quality time alone.

When a hand touched his shoulder, he expected it to be a fan, eager for a photograph. He turned, hoping to make it quick, and was surprised to recognize the smiling face that greeted him.

Grant Hunter.

My God, he’s handsome. Up close, his chiseled features and warm brown eyes were exquisite. His smile grew wider and his eyes sparkled with amusement.

I thought it was you,” Grant said, thrusting a hand forward. “Nice to meet you at last.”

You too,” Harry said, accepting the firm handshake.

I wanted to say hello last night, but you left the club before I got the chance.”

Sorry.” Harry shrugged, unable to tear his eyes from Grant’s hypnotic gaze. Dark and moody, like a film star from a different era, a 1950s matinee idol who’d stepped straight off the screen and been transported to modern-day Manchester.

You could cut yourself on his cheekbones, they’re so sharp. And that jawline…

It wasn’t really your scene, was it?” Grant asked.

I guess not. But sorry, again, I should have come over before I left. It was rude not to.”

Why don’t you make it up to me now?” Grant said, gesturing to the bar where they had stopped. “A drink. I’ve got nothing else to do right now. How about you?”

The man was a natural flirt. That was obvious. But he had an undefinable and powerful charisma. Harry’s heart beat faster. Grant had an instant effect on him. “Why not?”

About the Author

Thom Collins is the author of Closer by Morning, Gods of Vengeance, Silent Voices and the Anthem Trilogy. His love of page turning thrillers began at an early age when his mother caught him reading the latest Jackie Collins book and promptly confiscated it, sparking a life-long love of raunchy novels.

He is currently working on a new novel.

Thom has lived in the North East of England his whole life. He grew up in Northumberland and now lives in County Durham with his husband and two cats. He loves all kinds of genre fiction, especially bonk-busters, thrillers, romance and horror. He is also a cookery book addict with far too many titles cluttering his shelves. When not writing he can be found in the kitchen trying out new recipes.

Social Links

Twitter: @thomwolf

Instagram: ThomCollinsAuthor

Email: thomcollinsauthor [at] aol [dot] com

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