A Werewolf State of Mind by Lucy Felthouse (@cw1985) #PNR #shifter #werewolf #romance

This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.

That could have been me - #trauma #insight #healing @viviMacKade

By Viviana MacKade (Guest Blogger)

Aidan, the hero of my last novel, had a rough childhood–and I’m hugely underplaying this. As a reaction, he closed the world out and hunkered down into himself and his art.

Well, that could easily have been me.

I didn’t have it as bad as he did, not by any measure. My father was a raging alcoholic, one who ended up hanging with the wrong crowd and because of it, I saw things no child of seven should.

But I had my mom, my grandparents, and my little town that never failed to make me feel loved and accepted. It was a cushion that didn’t make me break.

The cracks though, those I carry with me, probably always will.

I hardly ever cried for whatever crap my dear daddy did, anger was my medium. It was easier getting mad, really mad, than sad and hurt. Oversensitive and empathetic, I made myself be the fighter I probably wouldn’t have been otherwise out of necessity. I didn’t like lit, I didn’t want it, but I had to in order to survive emotionally.

I had huge issues with trust, and only because my husband is the very definition of an honorable man I started believing in the male category again. I can trust him, people can trust him, and that means there are good men around.

But it wasn’t until I wrote Aidan’s story that I realized how much of an impact my father had on me throughout the years and most importantly, that letting go of the past might start because of someone (my husband for me, Summer for Aidan), but it can’t be done by someone else. It has to come from within.

Aidan’s epilogue came as such a catharsis.

It was like he was showing me the way. He got rid of his ghosts, so maybe it’s time for me to do the same.

He made me see it was time.

We have a trip to Italy planned for this Christmas, so it will be my chance to say my goodbyes–to bad memories, to people who are no longer here, to what can’t be changed.

Oh, how it will suck. But it’s needed.

This is the real power of books. Sometimes you have to see things from someone else’s perspective to find your way out from a problem, maybe even a problem you didn’t know you had.

I didn’t write Aidan’s story because of me, or my experience. It was his story, his demons. But it made me see mine, and made me want to do something about it.

So, thank you, Aidan and Summer.

Now I know the way.

His Midnight Sun

By Viviana MacKade

Tormented, fierce, and broken, sculptor Aidan Murphy has judged himself guilty. He yearns for love but pushes everyone away. He longs for acceptance but has lost the key to open his heart. Until he meets Summer Williams. Beautiful and smart, Dr. Williams promises haven for a man who believes he deserves none. All he has to do is let her in and risk his heart and soul.

Summer’s managed to keep her inner light alive, even through tragedy. She’s created a new life for herself and her daughter in Crescent Creek with loving, caring and fun friends–well, except brooding, breathtaking Aidan. She’s used to keeping away from his type, though. All she has to do is ignore the pull of a man who’s turning up to be much more than snarls and storms. Will her compassion and medical instincts let her?

Love can heal a broken soul and shake up a timid heart. Or it can unleash devastation and revenge.

Will Aidan and Summer survive the hurricane?

Released September 15

$0.99 FREE with KU

Buy Link

Amazon

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07GDP26VB?

https://goo.gl/L8okF6

About the Author

Beach bum and country music addicted, Viviana lives in a small Floridian town with her husband and her son, her die-hard fans and personal cheer squad. She spends her days between typing on her beloved keyboard, playing in the pool with her boy, and eating whatever her husband puts on her plate (the guy is that good, and she really loves eating). Besides beaching, she enjoys long walks, horse-riding, hiking, and pretty much whatever she can do outside with her family.

Find me...

On my website http://www.viviana-mackade.blog/

On FB

On Twitter

Amazon Author page

Gay Space Opera! Starship Lovers by @creestorm79 #scifi #gay #mm #erotica

Blurb

The day Marty met the Defense Troopers is the day his life had changed forever. Men that could shift into machines…insane, but true. After fixing their device that allowed them to fully shift into bigger and better weapons, Marty was a wanted man…by the enemy. If he could fix the Defense Troopers battle capacitator then the enemy knew he could fix theirs.

Faruke is a Defense Trooper and second in command, it was his job to make people fear him…well that is until he met Marty. The other half to his soul. Now for the first time he was afraid. One of the most evil of his planet was after his mate and Faruke would do anything to keep his mate alive and safe from harm…even if it meant his own death.

Buy Links

Amazon US: https://amzn.to/2wk5WtI

Amazon UK: https://amzn.to/2Mt0gsg

Amazon AU: https://amzn.to/2Lelzsn

Amazon CA: https://amzn.to/2LdXodr

Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/890693

B&N: https://bit.ly/2wnasYx

Excerpt

The door opened, and Bryton walked into the room carrying a tray. “Hey, Pops thought you might be hungry.”

Marty started to shake his head, but Bryton wasn’t about to hear it, “You will eat it, or I will get my man to hold you down as I puree it and pour it down your throat.”

“You know you really have an attitude. I would think with all that sex you’re having, you would be… I don’t know… skipping around singing Zipadeedoodah or something.” Marty said as he sat down and placed the tray on the side table.

Swirling his hips, Bryton countered, “I’m more the Pitbull and DJ Kass doing the Scooby Doo Pa Pa.”

Marty picked up his roast beef sandwich and took a bite. Bryton walked over to Faruke, “You know, he looks so innocent and sweet when he sleeps. Yet, when he opens his mouth he’s like that Alien creature which spits acid.”

“God, Bryton, why do you have to be such an ass. The man almost died.” Marty hissed.

“And if I recall, it was me who kept it from happening. Somehow I think I’m going to regret it.” Bryton muttered.

Marty snorted as he finished half of the sandwich, took a drink, then said, “This coming from the man who said he needed Faruke to live so he could have someone who could almost match him in sarcasm wars.”

Bryton shrugged, “I’m not the one who promised him dates if he lived.”

Marty felt his stomach knot and feared that half of his roast beef sandwich was going to come back up.

“What’s going on with you?” Bryton asked.

Marty looked at Faruke carding his fingers in his dark black hair. The man was so fucking gorgeous. He was so tall and had muscles on top of muscles and those eyes… son of a bitch, Marty could look into those turquoise orbs for days on end and never get tired of it.

“You really like him, don’t you, Marty?” Bryton softly asked.

Sighing, Marty replied, “I can be standing clear across the room and just a look from him makes me hard as a rock, Bry. I don’t understand it. He is so not my type. He always seems angry. He snaps orders instead of asks. He thinks he can tell me what to do all the time. He’s just not the kind of guy I would look twice at no matter how sexy he is.”

“I don’t think he’s angry as much as frustrated and pissed. Valkin said that he and Marston were best friends. The three of them used to do everything together and the day that Marston showed his true colors, he killed two of Faruke’s guys and damn near killed him too. Then you have to add in the fact that they had to leave the only home they have ever known, leaving behind their friends, family… it just can’t be easy.”

Marty nodded, stood up and turned to Bryton. “I just don’t know. I don’t understand any of this. How did we go from two average guys trying to live in an average world, to trying to save the world with men from outer space who can shift into machines?”

Bryton snickered, “Well it did liven up our lives, that’s for sure.”

“Bryton, I’m serious. What do we know about any of this? Did you see the size of those men who attacked this place?” Marty asked in awe.

“Marty, our side is just as big and if you remember correctly, we kicked ass too. They didn’t leave here unscathed. You were amazing coming up with those machines to help Valkin and the others fight off Marston and his men.

Faruke suddenly made a sound. Marty quickly turned to see those beautiful eyes looking at him.

Where to follow Cree:

Facebook Profile Page : https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100008094436955

Facebook Cree Storm Book Series Page : https://www.facebook.com/CreeStormBookSeries

WIP Page : https://www.facebook.com/creestormwip

Cree’s Captivating Crew : https://www.facebook.com/groups/175442302790861/

Maggie & Cree's Eternal Fan Group : https://www.facebook.com/groups/1774798286074053/

Webpage : http://creestorm.weebly.com/

Goodreads : https://www.goodreads.com/user/show/36139011-cree-storm

Twitter : https://twitter.com/creestorm79

Pinterest http://www.pinterest.com/creestorm67/

E-mail : creestorm79 [at] hotmail [dot] com

BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/profile/cree-storm

 

Release blitz organized by Writer Marketing Services.

Historical fantasy romance from a brand new author! @tayhobbit #medieval #fantasy #giveaway

Lisabet: Hello, Taylor! Welcome to Beyond Romance. Cloaked sounds like a fascinating book. Where did you get the concept for this book? How historically accurate is it? And what sort of research did you do, if any?

Taylor Hobbs: Hello and thank you for having me on your blog, Lisabet! I want to begin by tackling your first question: Where did you get the concept for this book?

I was inspired to write a historical fantasy novel because of an obsession with Diana Gabaldon, author of the Outlander series, and Erika Johansen, author of the Queen of the Tearling series. Both authors write strong female characters in memorable settings with a dash of fantasy. After devouring those series, I wanted more of the genre, so I figured I would write the book I wanted to read!

This story poured out of me, and I wrote 80,000 words in 80 days. I was going through a difficult time in my life, so I needed a sweeping fantasy novel to escape into and a kickass female protagonist to encourage me. The opening line came out of nowhere, and I couldn’t stop thinking about it until I wrote it down. I built the story from there. For those wondering, this is the opening line: ‘Naked as the day she was born, Charlotte felt the earth’s grip tighten around her with an unyielding hold.’ It was a visceral, no-holds-barred way to introduce her. Add in a mentor with a secret identity and a kingdom on the brink of revolution, and the story wrote itself.

How historically accurate is it?

The location and time period for Cloaked are loosely based on medieval Europe. Obviously, Croantis and Algonia are fictional countries, but if I had to compare them to real-life counterparts, the setting for Croantis was inspired by Spain and the setting for Algonia was inspired by France. I included basically everything a reader expects from a historical fantasy romance novel. We're talking horses, knights, castles, kings, taverns, a studly hero with a dark past, and more.

I love the fantasy genre because of the freedom I have as a writer. While building the setting, I am not constrained by actual historical events and can take the characters any direction that makes sense for the book. I can also add the unexpected into a historical story, like an advanced weapon to heighten the stakes!

What sort of research did you do?

Though the setting is fictional, I did do research to add to the authenticity of the experience. The main focus of my research was on fighting styles and medieval weaponry. This is such a huge part of Fawkes' character and Charlotte's development, and I wanted to immerse the reader into what it would have actually been like. I also know nothing about horses, so I consulted one of my beta readers, an accomplished equestrian, for all horse-related behavior. Other than that, I let my creativity flow and got lost in the world-building. It was a blast.

If any readers have additional questions about Cloaked, please comment below and I will respond. Thanks for having me today, Lisabet!

Blurb

As the Cloaked Shadow, Fawkes has made his career breaking into prisons for any contract with a large enough purse. He takes advantage of the kingdom's impending revolution by playing both sides of the conflict. Each rescue contract he fulfills turns a tidy profit until he angers the wrong duke.
 
Charlotte is a criminal-in-training who yearns to crack her mentor’s guarded façade, but is unprepared to confront the depths of his dark past. As her sense of right and wrong blurs, Charlotte discovers just how far she will go for the Cloaked Shadow and the sacrifices he requires.

Now hunted throughout the land, Fawkes must face long-buried secrets in order to survive, but they could destroy him. Charlotte risks everything, including her heart, to set Fawkes on the path to redemption.

Will Charlotte have the strength to pull Fawkes into the light, or will she follow him into the shadows?

Excerpt

Fawkes’ attack pressed Charlotte backward, and soon they were outside. As Charlotte’s feet slipped in the mud, she realized she had lost her size advantage. Lightning cracked across the sky, illuminating her surroundings long enough to blind her, and she failed to anticipate the next punch. It landed hard on her right shoulder and spun her around.

Before she could steady herself to counter, her arm was wrenched behind her back. Fawkes had a grip on it with one hand, the other around her throat. She stood flush against him, feeling his harsh breath and pounding heart as it beat against her back. They stood like statues, neither one of them wanting to the first to break the spell.

The roar of thunder made her jump and brought them back to reality. “I’ve gotten better, haven’t I?” Charlotte couldn’t help asking. She’d meant it as a quip, but it came out too hopeful.

She felt Fawkes sigh, tensing his hold on her before dropping his grip. With her back still to him, she waited for his answer. Instead, his hand brushed wet hair back from her face before a finger traveled down and traced her jawline. Charlotte leaned into the touch, but then it was gone. She turned to see only darkness, and then a flash of lightning showed his tall frame heading back to the cave.

About the Author

Taylor Hobbs lives aboard a 38 ft sailboat named Story Time with her husband, baby girl, and dog. They are a military family who love to travel, whether it is by sea or air. When she's not writing, Taylor enjoys doing yoga and planning her next adventure. You can keep up with their crazy life at  

http://www.cannonstocruising.com 

or follow on Twitter at @tayhobbit.

Cloaked is her debut novel and can be found at

https://catalog.thewildrosepress.com/all-titles/6046-cloaked.html

Buy Links

Barnes and Noble: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/cloaked-taylor-hobbs/1129153048

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Cloaked-Taylor-Hobbs-ebook/dp/B07FKXJ7Z6/

GIVEAWAY!  Taylor Hobbs will be awarding a $25 Amazon or Barnes and Noble GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Naked Heart - #BDSM #Devotion #Memory #Art

Give me your body.

Give me your mind.

Open your heart.

Pull down the blind...

My head encased in fat 1970's era headphones, I hear only the music, but I understand that he is speaking to me through the lyrics. He's behind me, towering over me, his big hands resting on my bare shoulders as I listen to the album he has brought me as a gift, a British group called 10cc. I feel my heart pounding in my chest, in time with the bass. I don't know what he'll do next. The uncertainty is disturbing and thrilling.

His fingers trace a path along my upper arms, light, teasing, raising goosebumps. Then they lock onto my nipples. I gasp as he pinches hard, then twists. I remember what he told me about clamps. What he promised. He knows what I'm thinking—I'm sure it is just what he intends. I imagine his smile, behind me, full of gentle mockery.

I'm soaked and trembling. I am mortified by my own desires, desires I hardly knew I had until he exposed them and showed me who I really was.

His slut. His slave. We both know it, know that I'll do anything he asks. I trust him not to ask for more than I can bear to give.

I was twenty five. He was a year younger, but with knowledge born of years of study plus the experience of two other kinky relationships. He told me that he had had S&M fantasies for as long as he could remember. And me? I was a total innocent—not sexually, but as far as BDSM was concerned. 

Did he somehow recognize my latent submissiveness? Or was he initially just attracted by my ripe body and raging hormones, only later starting to wonder if my fantasies were the complement to his? He was my classmate in grad school. We used to flirt, but I never took him seriously. Then he left the university for a job on the far coast, and we began to write.

Postal seduction. Asking me how I felt about spanking. Sharing his desire to tie me up. Discoursing on homemade whips and the efficacy of birch switches. I pretended lightness, laughed off his outrageous suggestions, but they left their mark on my psyche.

He would call me late at night and tell me his plans for me, his intuitions about what I wanted. Did he plant my fantasies or simply lay them bare? He claimed that he was meant to master me, to open my eyes to my own perversity. Arrogant and charming by turns, he wooed me, instinctively pressing all the right buttons—buttons I didn't know were ever there. Finally, he invited me to come visit him over Thanksgiving.

Never having even touched him in a sexual way—rash, crazy, my inflamed imagination totally trumping my rational self—I agreed.

It was the best decision I ever made.

The first night, we had vanilla sex. The next night we tumbled together into a well of dark fantasy. He led me through a magic door into a world of intense sensation and raw emotion, power and surrender, trust and communion. Looking back, thirty years later, I'm still astonished by that sudden connection—so real and so true despite the fact that we were practically strangers.

He changed me forever.

Our lives ran in different tracts. We lived thousands of miles apart. I had other lovers, though he had a way of slipping into my head when I was in their arms, reminding me to whom I really belonged. When we managed to meet, our days together were a frenzy of kinky experimentation: leather belts, bungee cords, ping pong paddles, hot wax. Ultimately, though, it wasn't the physical sensations that bound me to him. It was the sense that he saw me as I was, as deviant and sluttish as he himself, and didn't condemn me. No, he liked what he saw. I could be truly naked with him; he would not condemn me. From the very first, I trusted him with my body and my fantasies. Eager to please him, I exulted when he shared his own and allowed me to fulfill them.

Our relationship wasn't easy. We were both too young to realize the value of what we had, I now believe, or to nurture it the way it deserved. Misunderstandings, recriminations—we drifted apart, and three years after our initial incandescent coupling, I married someone else.

Yet all these years later, we are still in touch, and I still consider him my master, though he would laugh bitterly at the epithet.

Lisabet Sarai the writer would not exist if it were not for him. My erotic writings began with the fantasies I sent him. Raw Silk, my first novel, is a fictionalized account of my own initiation into dominance and submission. I even borrowed some of the dialogue from his letters. From the perspective of craft, Raw Silk is nowhere near my best work. But anyone who reads it is touched by its emotional intensity.

I have tried to branch out, to explore other paths through the tangled forest of erotica. Still, dominance and submission, power and surrender, remain the themes that fascinate me the most. Sometimes I feel as though I'm writing the same scene over and over. My readers will certainly be bored. Not me, though. I'm breathless and wet as I relive those magic encounters of my youth.

Love, Lust and Murder -- #romance #suspense #hooker #Dominant @maszyd

Saranac Lake, the Adirondacks

By Mia Frances (Guest Blogger)

If you’re a writer searching the web trying to find what constitutes the elements of a good story, you'll probably come up with character, setting, plot, conflict, and resolution. For romance writers that often translates into boy meets girl, boy loses girl, boy gets girl back, and they both live happily ever after. Nice, but not for me. There is nothing like a little murder and mayhem to spice up a story. 

The romances I write start out normally enough. My heroines are nerdy and inexperienced. My heroes are strict, alpha males drowning in money.

In my In His Keeping series, my heroine, Sylvie, is down on her luck. She came to New York to be a rising star in the publishing industry only to find herself working as a waitress in a greasy spoon that gets shut down by the Health Department for code violations. Unemployed, she's being thrown out of her apartment and is on the verge of starvation. She needs a job, and is willing to take anything she can get. That's how she winds up being the live-in research assistant of surly best-selling author, billionaire entrepreneur Connor Hudson.

I decided to set what I thought would be a stand-alone book in the Adirondack Mts. since I came up with the idea when I happened upon the tiny Westport, NY train station there. Built in the late 1800s or early 1900s, it's a lonely place, set off by itself. The kind of place where a sad, scared, desperate person might get off a train. Riding through the mountains I saw a number of rustic log mansions that I thought might work as my hero's residence in the book. Then I spotted one on a distant bank of Saranac Lake. It was in a clearing carved out of the forest. Isolated, it could barely be seen from the road without binoculars. It was the perfect house for my reclusive billionaire writer.

I had the characters and the setting…so far so good! Now I needed a plot and some conflict. Conflict between the characters? Sure! The reappearance of an old boyfriend or girlfriend? A breakup? Maybe a stalker? No! Not dramatic enough! I knew that eventually my hero and heroine would wind up together and live happily ever after, but the devil is always in the details. How would they get their happy ending? How was their love going to be threatened and tested? That's when I decided to add a touch of murder to their making out.

I'd written about murder before, but it wasn't in a romance novel. Not unless you consider a homicidal maniac librarian who kills people to get the blood necessary to bring her demon lover to life a romance. And you think being dragged off to hell constitutes a HEA. The more I thought about it, the more intriguing the idea of a murder became. Before I knew it my story had morphed into a series; my killer had became a serial killer, who left a trail of bodies in his wake; my rich boy hero was suspected of committing the murders; and my heroine was bound and determined to solve the case. Readers tell me they really like the steamy sex scenes in my books, but what really keeps them reading and turning pages is the mystery. Everybody wants to know who dunnit.

My latest book, Little Girl Lost, was easier to write than some of my others because I knew from the beginning where I was going with it. I'd seen a news show on TV about two young girls being abducted from Ohio and coerced into prostitution. They taken to truck stops and forced to have sex with the truckers. I decided an investigation of an abduction and human trafficking would make a good basis for a romantic suspense novel. I did a lot of research on the topic before I actually sat down to write it.

I'd seen a program on what happens to foster care kids after they age out of the system and wanted to make my heroine, Ali, an ex foster care kid. There'd been an article in our local newspaper about a library in the area that started a free pre-K program for children whose parents were too poor to pay to send there children to a traditional preschool. That's when I decided to make Ali a librarian. I felt I owed it to the profession after the librarian character I'd created in Worship the Night. Ali was bounced from placement to placement as a kid, never having a permanent home. The trauma of it has stayed with her. She struggled to make a life for herself after leaving foster care, working her way through college by taking care of an irascible old lady and then living in a garage so she can save up for a home of her own, a forever home. Hard working and with a heart of gold, she becomes a youth librarian and develops programs at her library for at-risk kids.

That's where she meets up with a young foster kid named Peeky. They form a bond. Ali wants to help the girl just like she'd once been helped by a caring librarian. When the girl runs away, Ali goes after her. She winds up in Douglas, Wyoming, the last place the girl was known to have been before suddenly disappearing.

Peeky had kept in contact with Ali during her cross-country sojourn. She'd sent Ali a picture of the jackalope statue after arriving in Douglas and followed it up with two texts, but after that…nothing!

Ali's determined to find her and when the police seem unwilling to help, she takes matters into her own hands and runs afoul of county sheriff Zac McHenry. He thinks she's a hooker when he catches her sneaking around the local truck stop in a skirt that barely covers her butt. When she mistakes him for an attacker and slams him in the groin with her purse he arrests her. Zac is used to being in control and being obeyed, but he's never gone toe to toe with somebody like Ali before. She refuses to be intimidated. Zac is leery of women and lives like a monk, avoiding the opposite sex. His first wife was unfaithful and walked out on him when he was in the hospital recovering from devastating war wounds that left him scarred both physically and emotionally. Every woman he's met since then seems to be more interested in his money and the prestige and power his name brings than they are in him. He may be a county sheriff, but he comes from one of the richest families in Wyoming and is worth hundreds of millions of dollars.

He and Connor could be brothers. The are both dominant, demanding, and used to being in charge. They make the rules and expect absolute obedience. They find modern independent women, who speak their mind, and follow their own instincts, perplexing. In need of correction and a firm hand. But my heroines are anything but quietly complaint. They're strong, brave, determined women, who'll accept a man's love and protection as long as it doesn't interfere with them thwarting a killer or killers. Neither Sylvie nor Ali flinch in the face of danger. They're smart enough to figure out the clues and follow the evidence. You might be shocked to learn that the heroes in my books don't actually catch the bad guys…the girls do!

Even with all the killers, kidnappers, traffickers, and corpses that turn up in my novels, they're still love stories…tales filled with romance and passion. Sylvie and Ali are like modern day Cinderellas. They've risen from the cinders to find their Prince Charmings and are on their way to a happy ending. How's that for a plot?

In His Keeping: Taken

Sylvie Jenkins has fallen on hard times. She's lost her job, her apartment, and is down to her last can of peas! Desperate, she agrees to take a job with reclusive writer Connor Hudson at his isolated mountain retreat in upstate New York. Sylvie assumes he's a poser, a writer wannabe. She has no idea he's actually a bestselling author and billionaire entrepreneur. Mr. Hudson is a dour, dominant, and demanding boss. He issues orders and expects her to obey them, but Sylvie has a rebellious streak and gives him a hard time. She doesn't like playing power games, especially not with him. She bristles at his condescending attitude toward women in general and her in particular. As far as she's concerned Connor Hudson though male model handsome is a jackass.

Connor can't believe the cheek of this sassy little imp! He's used to women fawning all over him, begging to do his bidding. But his wealth and position don’t impress or intimidate her. He finds her indifference toward him intriguing. He's never known a woman who didn't welcome his advances…until Sylvie. She ignores him, when she isn’t arguing, or cursing him under her breath. This alpha male decides his feisty assistant needs taming. And he’s just the man to do it. He's determined to make her obedient, respectful, and submissive.

Sylvie eventually succumbs to his charms and against her better judgement finds herself falling in love with Connor. But something's wrong. He says he can't love her. Not now! Not ever! He’s keeping secrets. The cops think he's a serial killer. His ex girlfriends keep turning up dead! Is this strict, sexy alpha male a cold-blooded killer?

https://www.amazon.com/HIS-KEEPING-TAKEN-Mia-Frances-ebook/dp/B010RZVTP2/

http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/in-his-keeping-taken-mia-frances/1122239114?ean=2940151168465

https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/in-his-keeping/id1017049944?mt=11

https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/in-his-keeping-5

https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/555933

Little Girl Lost

Wyoming sheriff Zac McHenry is fit to be tied. A new "working girl" just showed up at the local truck stop, ruining his stakeout. There's been an influx of transients passing through the county lately. Bringing an epidemic of drugs, crime, and vice with them. The last thing he wants is another hooker setting up shop in town. He's determined to send her packing. He's 6' 4" and she's a little bit of a thing. How hard could it be? But getting rid of her isn't as easy as he thought.

When he barges into her motel room, she thinks he's an attacker and wallops him with her purse. He arrests her for assaulting an officer and hauls her off to jail.

Zac soon realizes things aren't what they seem. Ali is no hooker…she's actually a youth librarian from upstate New York. Much to Zac's dismay, she's also well connected. She's friends with several state and federal judges who intercede on her behalf. He's forced to let her go. Thinking she'll leave town as soon as she's released, he checks her out of her cheap motel room. But she has no intention of leaving. Ali's staking out the truck stop too. Looking for the man who picked up a 13-year-old runaway named Peeky, there a week ago. The girl attended a teen drop-in program at Ali's library and she's not leaving until she finds her.

There's a rodeo in town and her room's already been rented out. In fact, there are no rooms to be found anywhere in the area for the next several days. Ali's temporarily homeless and its all Zac's fault! There's only one thing to do…she'll just have to move in with the sheriff until she can find another place to stay. Zac thinks his houseguest is a foul-mouthed, ill-tempered hellion. She thinks he's an interfering, arrogant bully. But when they work together to investigate a case of kidnapping, human trafficking, and murder...sparks begin to fly. Is this any way to start a romance?

https://www.amazon.com/Little-Girl-Lost-Mia-Frances-ebook/dp/B07CZPLV62/

https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/little-girl-lost/id1394539694?mt=11

https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/little-girl-lost-mia-frances/1128858328?ean=2940162075936

https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/little-girl-lost-56

https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/836332

Excerpt from Little Girl Lost

She had to get into her room and lock the door before he caught up with her….

"Hold up! Hold up!"

"What the hell? Her heart began thumping in her chest. A hold up? Did he mean to rob her? Or worse? Holy shit! He was right behind her! She grabbed the room key out of her pocket and lunged at the door. Hands shaking, she got the key in the lock and turned it. As soon as the door was ajar, a huge paw of a hand shoved it all the way open.

"I'm Sher…" before he could finish, Ali let out a scream, loud enough to wake the dead in the next county.

She quickly slipped the heavy bag off her shoulder and turned on him, first throwing the hot coffee in his face, then slamming the end of her satchel-style purse into his crotch. He bellowed in pain, sounding like an angry moose. The pain was so intense he paled then staggered. She hadn't stopped him, only slowed him down a little. And not for long. He was flailing his arms, one hand trying to wipe the burning coffee from his eyes, while the other reached for his testicles. Before he could move his hands to protect his balls, she swung the bag back, then forward, walloping him again, only this time harder! He groaned in agony, dropping to his knees. A few seconds later, he was howling in pain and making gagging sounds like he was gonna puke. Wanting to make sure he didn't get up again, she swung the bag and hit him upside the head. He felt like his skull was exploding. Stars and sparkles of light danced in front of him as he crumpled to the floor; sprawled on his belly across the threshold.

Ali looked down, trying to get her breathing under control. She was so scared she was hyperventilating. The last thing she needed was to pass out now. She had to get out of here before he came to. She couldn't step around him or over him. He was huge! She'd have to walk on him to make her escape out the door. That wasn't going to be easy…he was writhing on the floor like a snake! She started yelling for help at the top of her lungs.

She grabbed the doorjamb for support and stepped up on his shoulder. From there it was one step to the middle of his back, then another to his ass and then she'd be out the door, safe and home free. She was about to take the next step when she heard an enraged growl. Before she knew what was happening his body shifted, his shoulder lifting. She lost her footing and he threw her off. Ali shrieked even louder as she fell backward into the room. Landing with a thud on her butt and causing excruciating pain in her ankle. She watched in terror as he struggled to his knees. His face was red and contorted in rage, his burning eyes glaring at her with fury. She let out another bloodcurdling scream. "Help! Help! He's going to kill me!" she wailed as she scrabbled back away from him. Her right hand plunged into her purse and began searching frantically for the pepper spray and her stun gun flashlight. She pulled them out and brandished them in front of him, but that only seemed to piss him off more. She was still screaming when she heard running footsteps.

"What's going on here?" a loud, authoritative voice demanded to know. A tall dark-haired man wearing a brown Stetson and a sheriff's badge appeared outside the door.

"This man broke into my room," she choked out. "He tried to attack me!"

"Like hell I did!" He turned his head to face the man.

The officer's mouth gaped open. "Sheriff, what in God's name happened to you?"

"Sheriff?" her eyes widened in disbelief. Oh shit!

"This…this…" he struggled to find the words. "This she-devil happened to me."

About the Author

Mia Frances is the pen name of author Mary Vigliante Szydlowski. She writes across several genres using different pseudonyms. As Mia Frances, she's the author of the steamy romantic suspense novel, Little Girl Lost and the IN HIS KEEPING erotic romance, murder mystery thriller series: IN HIS KEEPING: TAKEN, IN HIS KEEPING: BANISHED, and IN HIS KEEPING: CLAIMED.

Her Science Fiction/Fantasy works include novels: The Ark (Jarl Szydlow), The Colony (Mary Vigliante), The Land (Mary Vigliante), Source of Evil (Mary Vigliante), and a novella, The Hand of My Enemy (Mary Vigliante Szydlowski)

As Mary Vigliante Szydlowski, she's also the author of dark fantasies: Dark Realm and Worship the Night, mainstream novel Silent Song, and seven children's books: Ghoul School, Millie Muldoon & the Christmas Mystery, Millie Muldoon & the Case of the Thanksgiving Turkey-napper, A Puddle for Poo, Kia's Manatee, The Duck in the Hole, and I Can't Talk, I've Got Farbles In My Mouth.

Her short stories, articles, children's stories, essays, and poems have appeared in anthologies, books, magazines, newspapers, and on the web.

She is a member of the Authors Guild, RWA (Romance Writers of America), SCBWI (Society of Children's Book Writers and Illustrators), and SFWA (Science Fiction Fantasy Writers of America).

Social Media Links

http://www.maryviglianteszydlowski.com/

https://www.facebook.com/miafrancesauthor/

https://www.pinterest.com/maryvigliante/

https://twitter.com/maszyd

https://www.amazon.com/Mary-Vigliante-Szydlowski/e/B001K7Y87I/ref

https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/1433375.Mary_Vigliante_Szydlowski

https://www.instagram.com/maszyd/