Saturday, February 29, 2020

Let's celebrate Sadie Hawkins Day! #SadieHawkinsDay #Giveaway #Erotica

Sadie Hawkins Day banner
Today is the 29th of February, a date that rolls around only once every four years. By tradition, this is Sadie Hawkins Day, a day when women are allowed to go after the men they want, rather than waiting patiently to be pursued. Seemed like an appropriate day to release my new boxed set Vegas Babes: The complete series.

This massive, 600 page plus, volume collects all five of my outrageous erotica titles from the Vegas Babes series. It also includes a lively introduction by Larry Archer, the creator of The Fox’s Den strip club where many of the books’ most memorable scenes unfold. Pick up a copy and venture into a world of exuberant sexual excess and open-minded romance, where no fantasy is too wild to explore and everyone gets a thrilling, sticky happy ending.

To celebrate the release, I have an exclusive, never-before-shared excerpt. I’m also giving away:

o A $10 Amazon gift certificate;
o A free ebook copy of the first Vegas Babes title, Hot Brides in Vegas;
o A free ebook copy of my equally outrageous holiday title, Santa, Baby!

To enter, just leave me a comment. Let me know if you’ve ever gone after a guy you desired!

Buy Links

Kinky Literature:

Exclusive Excerpt

Laura might not be interested in girl-on-girl games herself, but she had to admit that her best friend looked hot squirming and bucking against the slave’s face. The slave was pretty sexy, too. Zoe’s near-platinum hair shimmered down her back as she dove deeper into Franny’s pussy. The sub’s bent-over position raised and highlighted her shapely ass cheeks, which were pale as two moons. Looking more closely, though, Laura thought she could discern faint streaks of pink on those white globes, in a regular pattern. The marks of Chantal’s whip?

A shiver of excitement ran through Laura’s body, tightening her nipples and dampening her sex. She’d never done anything kinky—never really considered it—but now she wondered whether she could somehow convince Steve to spank her.

Probably. Her big, strong, well-hung husband normally did whatever she asked, at least in the bedroom, though she knew he’d never want to really hurt her. That was fine. She was just a bit—curious.

Hey, ladies!” Annie’s bright voice interrupted Laura’s lascivious musings. “I see you’ve made yourself comfortable!”

The bride almost skipped over to the group of women near the pool, her ginger-colored curls bouncing. Although she was nearly twenty six, her petite build, freckled nose, unruly hair and slightly manic energy made her seem much younger. Annie never managed to get in to any entertainment venue without being carded. In fact, she’d had clerks refuse to sell her tickets to R rated movies.

Dropping the two grocery bags she’d been carrying, she gave Chantal an enthusiastic hug. “Thank heavens! We’ve been following the Weather Channel—looks grim!”

Chantal kissed her on the lips, a gesture the bride did not refuse. “It’s Chicago,” she replied when she finally released the woman’s tiny but voluptuous body. “It’s normal.”

Well, I’m very relieved. I would have been so-o-o disappointed if you weren’t here.” The redhead looked around at her special guests. “This is kind of like a reunion for me—a reminder of one of the happiest days of my life.” All at once she seemed to notice the young blonde kneeling on Francesca’s chaise. Fran herself just lay there twitching in the afterglow of her climax. “I’m sorry, I don’t think we’ve met…”

Chantal gave her sub an almost imperceptible nod.

I’m Zoe. I’m with Chantal.”

Laura saw Annie’s eyes go wide as she took in the sub’s costume.

Congratulations on your marriage, by the way,” the girl continued. “I hope you and Ted will be really happy.”

Um—thanks…” Annie gestured at Francesca’s limp form. “Is she okay?”

She’s recovering from a demonstration of Zoe’s oral talents,” said Chantal. “Would you like Zoe to do you, too? I’m sure she’d be delighted to eat your undoubtedly sweet pussy.”

A blush darkened Annie’s freckles. “Um—thanks. Maybe later. I’ve got a lot to do right now to get ready for the party tonight. And my brother should be here any minute. He texted me from the airport.”

Laura sat up so fast her naked breasts jiggled. “I didn’t know you had a brother.”

Annie’s smile grew wistful. “My only family, since our father died five years ago. Rod’s going to give me away. That’s what Dad would have wanted.” Her sunny disposition reasserted itself. “I’m so excited! I haven’t seen him in more than a year. He lives in LA…”

Annabelle baby!” A rich, deep, overwhelmingly masculine voice boomed through the courtyard.

Rod!” Annie squealed, racing to meet the tall, dark stranger who’d just entered the pool area.

Hey, Sis!” The newcomer dumped his duffel onto the floor and enfolded Annie in his arms. He wore a tight black tee shirt that highlighted his tanned biceps and sculpted pecs. A wave of delicious weakness swept through Laura’s body as she watched his muscles flex under bronzed skin. When Rod palmed Annie’s buttocks in a distinctly non-familial manner, Laura’s pussy tingled in sympathy. Now here was a plaything that interested her!

Though Rod was probably as tall as her husband Steve, he had a more slender, wiry build. His faded but expensive jeans clung to his lean thighs like a second skin. Masses of ragged, jet black hair covered the back of his neck and fell into his eyes, which had a compelling, hypnotic quality. His nose was aquiline, his lips as full as a girl’s. She caught the gleam of a gold earring through the shaggy locks. Despite the heat, his feet were clad in heavy leather boots. Still, when he released his sister and strode over to greet the rest of the group, he moved lightly, with the energy and economy of a dancer. His style and manner made Laura think of a rock star.

And who are these beauties?” he asked, his slightly predatory smile showing perfect white teeth. Laura resisted the urge to cover her naked tits. Instead, she arched her back a bit, elevating them to his blatantly hungry gaze.

Annie skipped to his side, giving his hand a squeeze. Next to him, she looked about fourteen.
Francesca, Laura and Chantal, this is my big brother Rod.”

Laura offered him her most welcoming smile. I wonder if he’s big everywhere.

These ladies were responsible for my getting together with Ted,” the bride continued.

Rod arched an eyebrow. “Oh?”

Ted was best man at my wedding six months ago,” said Franny, though this really didn’t begin to explain the complicated connections that had led to Annie’s wedding.

Anyway, I really wanted them here to help me celebrate.” Rod’s grin grew wider in response to Annie’s enthusiasm. He gestured toward Zoe, who was still perched on Fran’s lounger. “And what about this lovely creature?”

She’s my slave,” said Chantal with pride.

Laura caught a flicker of something dangerous in Rod’s eyes as he took in Zoe’s clamped nipples and padlocked pussy. His fists opened and closed as if he wanted to grab her. “Nice,” he murmured. Very nice. Do you lend her out?” He held Chantal’s gaze. “I won’t leave any marks.”

Chantal released a bell-like laugh. “Oh, Zoe loves to be marked!”

All the better.”

But I’ll have to get to know you first,” the ebony-skinned Domme continued. “Even if you are Annie’s brother.”

Oh, I’m looking forward to getting to know you.” He swept his eyes over the group of attractive females. “All of you.”

Excitement fluttered in Laura’s belly. Rod’s arrogant self-confidence turned her legs to jelly.

Rod, behave yourself,” Annie scolded. “Franny and Laura are both newlyweds.”

So? I get the feeling that none of you are exactly nuns.” He gave Laura a look she would have called a leer, if he hadn’t been so flat out gorgeous. “And didn’t you say you wanted to celebrate?”

Annie nodded. “Tonight’s our own little private party. Just close friends.”

And family,” Rod added.

Well, selected members!”

* * *

Sound like fun? It is! Pick up your copy today. (By the way, it turns out that Annie's brother is a rock star!)

And don’t forget to enter my giveaway. Just leave a comment sharing your experiences (if any) as the chaser rather than the chasee!

Thursday, February 27, 2020

Have you had a fortunate life? #Romance #Giveaway #Australia @CynthiaTerelst

Cat's out of the bag cover

By Cynthia Terelst (Guest Blogger)

Hi everyone,

I’m Cynthia Terelst. I write contemporary romance with some heat. Thank you to Lisabet for inviting me to share a story with you today.

When I think about the question above, my first instinct is to say no. I don’t have riches or drive a fancy car or wear designer clothes. But living a fortunate life does not need to be about money. I’ve survived a suicide attempt, heartbreak, domestic violence, and mountains of debt. That to me is fortunate. Surviving, living, is fortunate.

And on top of that I have done many amazing things. My daughter and I travelled around Australia for three years with our cat and dog. There were many reasons we did this, but the most significant was the number of hours I worked and how I was missing watching her grow up. The trip had the desired effect; we are close, almost like sisters.

Some of the places and experiences mentioned in my first novel, The Cat’s out of the Bag, are from our travels. We did climb a fire tree like Evie and Jesse, but only made it to the first platform. My daughter’s ten-year-old legs were too short to make in the rest of the way. But when you think about it, climbing 30 metres (over 90 feet) up a tree using only steel pegs driven into the side of the tree, with no safety harness or netting is pretty impressive for anyone, let alone a ten-year-old. (Sorry, I can’t share a photo, but if you google Fire Tree Pemberton you will see what I’m talking about.)

Ultimately, The Cat’s out of the Bag is a love story, with some Australian scenery. We watch Evie and Jesse’s relationship grow. It’s not always an easy path, just like any relationship. The book touches on tough subjects like domestic violence and trust. Rest assured, this is not a totally serious book, there are many places where you will laugh.

Giveaway - I would like to give an eBook of The Cat’s out of the Bag away to one lucky reader. Please tell us why you feel you have a fortunate life. The winner is selected randomly and is not based on the best story. We are all fortunate in some way and this is a good opportunity to appreciate that.

The Cat’s Out of the Bag

One van. Two hearts. Thousands of kilometres.

Jesse’s a self-made billionaire who yearns to get away from his empty life and the money-hungry parasites who inhabit it. The plan? Go to Australia, tell no one about his money and find himself. Instead of finding just himself, he finds Evie, who is everything anyone should aspire to be. Now, what he aspires to be, is hers. But to be hers, he needs to tell her everything.

Evie has left her past behind. She has rebuilt herself, and her life, into one of happiness. After she meets Jesse, while volunteering at a cat shelter, memories of her past filter back in. She is stronger now and wants to trust him. But after all she has been through, is trust even possible?

The quest to find a cat a forever home leads them to travel across the country together. Can the close quarters drive them to open up to each other? Or will it drive them apart?



The wave petered out, and I paddled back to the line-up. Sitting, watching, waiting. The constant breeze in my ears and the sound of waves breaking relaxed me. Lulled by the gentle rise and fall of the swells, I thought about Evie.

She was one of the most complicated people I’d ever met. Whatever she had been through had made her strong and independent. But underneath, she was all doubt. I could see her trying to be brave, but that could change in an instant as her insecurities took over. I felt like it was a fight between Nick and me, and I didn’t even know the guy. I didn’t know how to beat a ghost. But I would. I would figure it out, and I would gain Evie’s trust, bit by bit.

Her. Me. That’s what I would strive for.

Buy Link

About the Author

Cynthia Terelst is a project officer by day and a writer by night. She is a contemporary romance writer who likes to share a little bit of history, some Australian scenery and a whole lotta love.
Cynthia does not shy away from difficult topics, as she feels that they should not be ignored.

She lives in Queensland, Australia, where the sun shines at least 283 days a year.

Social Media Links

Wednesday, February 26, 2020

Vegas Babes is now a boxed set! #Preorder #KU #Erotica #BoxedSet

Vegas Babes cover

I’m so excited! This Saturday will mark the release of my very first boxed set. I’ve bundled all five titles in my Vegas Babes series into one humongous volume (over 600 pages!) and published it on Kindle Unlimited. This is also an experiment – I’ve always used a range of platforms, but since the individual installments from the series are still available on Smashwords, BN and other sites, I don’t feel too guilty!

Anyway, if you’re really eager, you can pre-order your copy today:

The book will be available on February 29, a special day that happens only once every four years. Seems very appropriate that it’s also Sadie Hawkins Day, when gals are allowed to propose to guys, and generally ask for what they want. That’s the Vegas Babes, all right!

About the Book

Trust the ladies of Las Vegas to show you a good time.

Meet the Vegas Babes—lusty ladies eager for new carnal adventures. Technically virginal Francesca celebrates her wedding eve with a scandalous performance at a Vegas strip club. Classy Ivy League grad Laura discovers her inner slut with the help of an entire Scottish rugby team. Red-headed Annie and her well-hung accountant hubby provide a sex-drenched Sin City education for their gorgeous coed neighbors. Pure, untouched Patricia wages a guerrilla campaign against kink but finds herself captive in a Dom’s web of desire.

Then there’s hot mama Chantal, elegant Domme Professor Inez, bossy MILF Giulia, voluptuous she-male Rosa, dirty little old lady Althea —you don’t have to be sweet young thing to be a babe! Venture into a world of exuberant sexual excess and open-minded romance, where no fantasy is too wild to explore and everyone gets a thrilling, sticky happy ending.

This boxed set collects the complete five book Vegas Babes series, and includes a lively introduction by Larry Archer, creator of The Fox’s Den.

Join me on Saturday for a big release party with excerpts, fun and prizes! (including free books and a $10 gift certificate)

As you’ll find out if you buy the book – I don’t believe in doing things in a small way when it comes to erotica!

Tuesday, February 25, 2020

Review Tuesday: Building Bonds - #ReviewTuesday #GayRomance #BDSMRomance

Building Bonds by Morticia Knight
Pride Publishing, 2018

Despite the fact that he builds bondage furniture for a living and secretly masturbates to kinky gay porn, Kyle is sure he’s not a submissive. It doesn’t matter how much his slave-boy friend Marshall teases him, Kyle has no interest in finding out more about the BDSM lifestyle. Indeed, the notion terrifies him.

Indeed, after being dumped by his selfish and emotionally abusive partner Roger, Kyle’s pretty reluctant to get involved with anyone, kinky or not. He tells himself he’s content to live a quiet, solitary life, rather than exposing himself to the pain of another relationship. Then he meets Gavin, part-owner of the soon-to-opened BDSM club Kiss of Leather. Kyle’s attraction to the sexy, self-possessed Dom is immediate and intense, but that just increases his shyness and embarrassment in Gavin’s presence.

Gavin’s initial interest in Kyle is strictly professional; the club wants to engage Kyle as their exclusive carpenter, to design and construct all their equipment. However, he soon realizes he wants more, that he wants to dominate the handsome but awkward carpenter. When Kyle mentions Roger, Gavin assumes that the ex was a former Master. Only when Gavin offers Kyle a trial six-month contract as his submissive does Kyle confess to his near-total ignorance of kink.

Kyle wants Gavin so badly he agrees to become his “boy”, even though he has little understanding of what that entails. Gavin is happy to teach him. Gently but firmly, he introduces the younger man to the physical and emotional joys of submission. By the time the contract is half over, both men realize their feelings go way beyond sexual attraction.

I’ve known Morticia Knight as a fellow author and blog contributor for years, but for some reason this is the first book of hers I’ve read. I found it satisfying from an emotional perspective, less so from a logical or literary one.

Building Bonds is pure romance, pure fantasy – the soulmate trope becoming all the more compelling when it involves D/s, which demands the ultimate in devotion and trust. When I turn the light of reason on the plot, however, I find it somewhat implausible. Everything happens too fast. I don’t think a real Dom would push a total novice the way Gavin pushes Kyle (though everything is thoroughly based on consent). Furthermore, given how emotionally damaged Kyle seems to be, I wonder if it’s realistic that he’d be able to open up to Gavin the way he does.

The book also felt too short to me. Gavin and Kyle meet, get together, and fall in love. Nothing much else really happens. I expected some external conflict, perhaps from Roger’s reappearance, but that didn’t happen. I also wondered whether Kyle might not freak out from the emotional demands of his interactions with the Dom and need some space. Instead, they have a very hot scene involving a violet wand, end up confessing their love to one another, and that’s it – the end.

There’s a reasonable amount of kinky sex in the book, with a well-managed escalation of intensity. Still, for some reason the story felt a bit “vanilla” to me. This might be, paradoxically, because of Gavin’s constant emphasis on Safe, Sane and Consensual. Of course in the real world, this is probably what one wants, but in erotic fiction one craves a bit of risk, a bit of danger.

Overall, I enjoyed Building Bonds – but it left me wanting more. More story. More conflict. More character depth. Maybe more extreme and challenging sex.


Monday, February 24, 2020

Welcome to dating in avocado toastland... @jkentauthor #romance #romcom #contemporary

Feisty banner

An all-new standalone from New York Times bestselling author julia kent

I’m not too proud to admit that finding Mr. Right involves swiping right. Right? Welcome to dating in avocado toastland.

Here I am, on my first blind date, ever, courtesy of a smartphone app and my two annoying best friends.

So what is Chris “Fletch” Fletcher doing, walking across the room, looking at his phone like he’s pattern matching a picture to find a real person he’s never met before?


Oh, no.

The guy I drop-kicked in seventh grade cannot be my blind date. The guy who earned me this infernal nickname.

That’s right.


More from New York Times bestselling author Julia Kent as Fiona “Feisty” Gaskill gets her chance at love - drop-kick included.

Other Standalone Books in the Series

Buy links

Amazon (all countries):

Audiobook narrated by Erin Mallon:

iTunes: Coming Soon


Fletch?” I gasp as Perky smiles and walks away, abandoning me in my time of need.

Hey, Fiona. What're you doing here?” He looks down at my drink. “Nice penis.”

Excuse me?”

He points to my chai latte. “Perky did a good job. I was in here last week and she made some beautiful flower patterns on my latte.” He frowns, then his eyebrows shoot up. “Hold on. Those weren't flowers, were they?”

I laugh.

Wow. And they seemed so... detailed. And gorgeous.”

My sides are splitting.

Please... stop... flowers...” I gasp.

That latte did give me a sudden desire to go to a Georgia O'Keeffe show, though.”

I rush to take a sip of my chai latte and make the penis go away. Fletch watches me, mouth spreading into a wider grin, his green eyes shining as he crosses his arms over his chest.

It's only then that I realize he's wearing real clothes. A crisp, light purple dress shirt, open at the neck, tucked into khahis. He has actual leather shoes – and not for weight lifting or cross-training – on his feet. His hair is styled but not sticky, and he has a close, clean shave.

His aftershave is divine.

You're not in workout gear. Or a paramedic's uniform,” I say as I blot the foam on the tip of my nose, wondering if it's ruined my makeup.

And you look lovely tonight. A little overdressed for a Beanerino latte with Perky,” he says, waving to her from across the room as she swings a hand towel in the air like she's a date-night air traffic controller.

I have a date.”

So do I.”

You don't have a man bun, do you?”

He looks down at his crotch. “Is that like camel toe for guys?”

About the Author

New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Julia Kent writes romantic comedy with an edge. Since 2013, she has sold more than 2 million books, with 4 New York Times bestsellers and more than 19 appearances on the USA Today bestseller list. Her books have been translated into French and German, with more titles releasing in 2020 and beyond.

From billionaires to BBWs to new adult rock stars, Julia finds a sensual, goofy joy in every contemporary romance she writes. Unlike Shannon from Shopping for a Billionaire, she did not meet her husband after dropping her phone in a men's room toilet (and he isn't a billionaire she met in a romantic comedy).

She lives in New England with her husband and three children where she is the only person in the household with the gene required to change empty toilet paper rolls.

Social Media Links:

Release blitz organized by Writer Marketing Services.

Sunday, February 23, 2020

Charity Sunday: The Mountain Lion Foundation - #wildlife #ecology #CharitySunday

Charity Sunday Banner

Welcome to another Charity Sunday blog hop. Last month I commented that I hadn’t highlighted an animal or environmental cause in a long time. Perhaps it seems trivial to focus on animals when so many human beings are in dire straits, affected by disasters, conflicts and health emergencies. However, the state of the non-human creatures on this planet is tightly linked to our own. All too many of the crises afflicting humanity today result from unchecked expansion of our species and thoughtless exploitation of the Earth’s resources. When wild animals struggle to survive, we should recognize that they’re mirrors of the risks we face. When bees, amphibians, insects, the core species that prop up the ecosystem, are dying out, we should recognize that we’re likely to be next.

In any case, this month I’ve decided to support an organization that was one of my favorite charities when I lived in the U.S. - The Mountain Lion Foundation. This non-profit, located in California, is dedicated to research, advocacy and education to help save North America’s critically endangered big cats. MLF works with communities to reduce conflicts between people and lions; with scientists to study the behavior and ecological dynamics of the species; with legislators to craft laws and regulations that protect mountain lions, their habitat, and their human neighbors.

Of course, anyone who has hung around my blog for any length of time knows I am a huge ailurophile. I love felines, large and small. Supporting the MLF is perhaps a bit self-indulgent, but I haven’t donated to them in many years. Hence, I will give them $2 for each comment I receive on this post, between now and the next Charity Sunday.

Meanwhile – I don’t have any stories that include big cats, but here’s a snippet from Miranda’s Masks. My heroine Miranda, who’s a PhD student in literature, has a cat named Heathcliff, who actually has a pivotal role in the plot.


Shy and serious by dayinsatiable by night.

Betrayed and abandoned by her first lover, shy and studious Miranda Cahill freezes in response to any sexual attention from someone she knows and likes.

During the day, she works diligently on her doctoral thesis. At night, she finds herself drawn into increasingly extreme sexual encounters with strangers. Public coupling, multiple partners, age play, spankings, bondage, lesbian lust—each experience reveals new dimensions of her depravity. Her anonymous secret life begins to take over when she discovers that the masked seducer she meets in a sex club and the charismatic young professor courting her are the same man.

Dickens scholar Mark Anderson seems like an affable, uncomplicated Midwesterner, but he has hidden depths, myriad talents, and an unlimited appetite for erotic variety. With Mark as her guide, Miranda gradually comes to understand and accept the intricacy of her own desires, as well as to trust her heart. 



She took her plate and a glass of white wine back to her desk, where the brass lamp made a warm pool of gold in the darkened room. A mild night breeze ruffled the drapes and whispered in the corners, fragrant with spring. Intoxicating. Voices soft in the alley, the creak of a door hinge, the distant wail of a saxophone—the city breathed outside her window, full of mystery.

Miranda felt alert, wired, electricity in her veins. She ate thoughtfully, pondering her actions and feelings over the past few days. I thought that I knew myself, knew what I wanted, knew what was important, she mused. Now everything is unclear, everything except this lust, which blazes up in me without warning.

She had an inspiration. Perhaps she should write about it, record her feelings and experiences, externalize it all. Through most of her childhood and adolescence, she had kept a journal, using it as a mirror to confront her fears and her desires. Only after Geoffrey left her had she stopped. It was just too painful to write and to remember.

Miranda recalled the leather-bound Victorian diary. Perfect. The irony somehow pleased her—a modern student of Victorian excess using the historic journal to chronicle her own lustful explorations. She retrieved the diary from her desk drawer, located her fountain pen, opened the volume to the first page.

The blank, velvety parchment invited her. Confide in me. Trust me with your secrets.

How should she begin, though? Miranda sat for a long time, pen poised over the paper, reviewing the events and emotions of the last few days. Heathcliff sat on the corner of her desk, fixing her with his typical unblinking stare.

Miranda ignored the feline, her eyes focused inward. Heathcliff’s gaze became a challenge. Still, she did not respond. Deliberately, the cat reached out a striped paw toward her wine glass. With the graceful economy of motion typical of his species, he nudged at the stem, just enough to send a torrent of Pinot Grigio spilling over the desk and diary.

Heathcliff!” Miranda sprang from her seat to avoid being drenched with wine herself. “Bad cat!” She rushed to get a towel to sop up the moisture. “Oh, Heathcliff,” she said reproachfully, “how could you?”

The cat curled up on the corner of the desk, looking not the least chagrined. Meanwhile, the diary, though wet through, did not appear to be damaged. Miranda arranged it under the lamp, hoping that the heat from the incandescent bulb would help to dry the pages, and went out to the kitchen to wash her hands and refill her glass.

She returned to a marvel. The cream-colored pages baking in the lamplight were no longer blank. Even as she watched, writing darkened and became more distinct.

The hand was even, ornate, old-fashioned. And definitely feminine. Miranda could hardly breathe with the excitement. Someone else had confided in this diary, someone so chary of her secrets that she used disappearing ink for her confessions. As Miranda watched, the date at top of the page became clear.

June 12, 1886

I scarcely know how to commence this account of my adventures and my sins. Indeed, I do not fully understand why I feel compelled to commit these things to writing. Clearly, my purpose is not to review and relive these experiences in the future, for in twenty minutes’ time these sentences will be invisible even to me. Perhaps in the years ahead, I will trail my fingers across the empty parchment, colored like flesh, and the memories will come alive without the words, coaxed from the pages by my touch like flames bursting from cold embers.

I have a secret life, another self, and that secret has become a burden that I clutch to myself, and yet would be relieved of. So, like the Japanese who write their deepest desires on slips of rice paper and then burn them, I write of secret joys and yearnings, and send that writing into oblivion.

Want to know more about the diary’s secrets? Miranda’s Masks is available at Amazon, Smashwords, and other online bookshops.

Meanwhile, I hope you’ll leave a comment. Every message from you means two dollars devoted to saving North America’s great cats.

Be sure to visit the other bloggers participating in today’s Charity Sunday. You’ll find their links below.