Thursday, January 31, 2013

Brett O'Neal Davis

Guest Post and excerpt by Brett O'Neal Davis

First of all, I'd like to thank Cloey for this opportunity to visit with her and her readers. I did a lot of research for my book “Mama Lona's Man,” although I ended up making up quite a lot of things to suit the story. I thought it would be fun to share some of what I learned with the readers of Cloey's Book Reviews. With that in mind, here are:

The Top 10 Things You May Not Know About Zombies

Number One: They didn't start eating people until 1968. Zombies originated in Vodou (or Voodoo) folklore, and referred to dead people revived by witch doctors, or bokors, to be slaves. So, for centuries zombies were just luckless slaves, kind of creepy but generally not all that scary. George Romero made them scary in his seminal “Night of the Living Dead,” although he refers to these hungry, reanimated corpses only as ghouls, not zombies.

Number Two: The first full-length zombie movie was a love story. That would be “White Zombie,” in which an evil witch doctor plots to turn a beautiful young woman into a zombie so she will fall in love with a wealthy plantation owner. This one dates all the way back to 1932 and stars Bela Lugosi as the bokor, just a year after his star turn as a certain vampire named Dracula.

Number Three: They don't have to have bodies. One type of zombie is a spirit zombie, or astral zombie, which are used to enhance the witch doctor's power. In “Mama Lona's Man,” I combined these two to create a spirit zombie who inhabits his own dead body. Gotta think outside the box sometimes.

Number Four: You don't have to shoot them in the head to kill them. Not the traditional Vodou zombie, anyway. You just need to stuff salt in their mouths, which either brings them back to life or convinces them to return to the grave. Easier said than done, for sure, but if you can accomplish it, less messy than firearms.

Number Five: They may be real. There have been numerous anecdotal accounts of researchers who visit Haiti and other Vodou-equipped areas and hear of the reanimated dead, and occasionally they even have first-hand accounts. Theories include the application of various drugs, hypnosis, and perhaps even actual black magic. Researchers wrote in The Lancet more than a decade ago ( that there were probably various interpretations for the zombie phenomenon, including mental illness, learning disabilities and brain damage. Such folks are “not uncommonly met with wandering in Haiti,” they wrote, which is not very nice to say.

Number Six: They may be real and closer than Haiti. And, in this case, caused by drugs. Namely the compounds known as “bath salts,” which sound kind of nice but seem to drive people completely nuts. Such as the guy in Florida who recently chewed another guy's face off and then withstood several bullet wounds from police before succumbing. Or maybe he had just seen too many zombie movies.

Number Seven: Vampires trump zombies. At least according to Spike TV, which runs shows like “Deadliest Warrior,” which pits historical figures against each other in speculative match-ups, such as Teddy Roosevelt vs. Lawrence of Arabia, or Saddam Hussein vs. Pol Pot (I am not making this up). They did one episode that pitted vampires against zombies. I didn't have cable at the time and didn't watch it, but it's online and judging by the comments, the vampires won. I don't know, I like to think that my book's zombie hero, Ravinell Straw, could take Edward Cullen in a fair fight.

Number Eight: Zombies can dance. Forgotten “Thriller” already, have you? For shame.

Number Nine: They aren't really that bitey. Sure, the zombies in “Walking Dead” can easily tear through flesh in one chomp, despite having allegedly rotting jaw muscles, but in reality humans rank fairly low on the bite scale compared with some other critters. The human jaw generates 120 pounds of bite pressure. Snapping turtles generate 1,000 pounds. “Night of the Living Dead Snapping Turtles”? Yeah, you don't really want to watch that. Crocodiles, just to show off, generate 2,500 pounds of bite pressure. Just an aside here to mention that my zombie character in “Mama Lona's Man” doesn't bite anyone. He may bite the girl he loves in a later book, but only if she asks him to. That could come in a planned sequel, “50 Shades of Gray Skin.”

Number Ten: Zombies are metaphorical, sometimes. Adam Ant, of 1980s new wave music fame, just issued his comeback single, which refers to his exile from the music scene when he moved from London to tiny Dayton, Tennessee. He was dead, but not dead, and still cool. And now he's going back on tour, so his career may be revived after all. The song title? “Cool Zombie.”

Again, thanks to Cloey for letting me visit with you!

The encounter with Jake the night before had left her cranky and tired. She had hoped to stay awake and just have a normal day so maybe she would sleep well tonight but she could tell that wasn’t going to work. She could feel the sleep sneaking up on her like a black cloud moving across the horizon. Her stomach was growling loud enough to keep her awake and she needed to eat, but there wasn’t much in the house. They hadn’t gone shopping since before the Caribbean trip, and she hadn’t accomplished much of anything yesterday, so her choices were limited: ice cream, vodka and ancient green peas in the freezer; expired milk and bad eggs in the refrigerator, along with some mystery bread that had sprouted a leopard-like coating of green and blue dots. She opted for a bowl of dry cereal and starting making a grocery list.

She took the cereal to the living room so she could watch TV while she ate. She settled onto the couch, turned the TV to an entertainment news show and that’s where she fell asleep.

And, finally, there he was. She was standing in a field with lots of yellow flowers and stubby grass, a field ringed with oaks and pine trees. Low hills undulated away into the distance. He ambled up to her and she took another good look at him: tall but not too tall, in fact just a head higher than her. Thin but not too thin. He had the proper V-shaped body that men were supposed to have and he wore it well. His legs were muscular but maybe just a little short, or maybe he had a long torso. He looked athletic even when standing still, as if he might go bounding off at any moment. His sandy hair ruffled in the breeze. And then he smiled and she forgot everything else about him.

“So we are outstanding in our field,” she said. “Do you pick the surroundings of these conference calls, or do I?”

“You pick some of them,” he said, still smiling. “You seem partial to cliffs and beaches. Very dramatic. I picked this one, though. I wanted to show you what it looks like in north Georgia. This is where I’m from.”

And this is where you were dead and buried, she thought, but she didn’t say it. Why spoil the mood? No wonder she was always dreaming up cliffs and howling winds, with an attitude like that.

“So, I’ve missed you,” she said.

Almost to her surprise, he reached out and took her hand. His fingers were warm and dry.

“And I’ve missed you.”

Without having any direction in mind, they started walking, holding hands like young lovers. She expected violins to play, as it was a dream after all and such things could happen, but all she heard was the whisper of the wind and the cries of the birds. Her crankiness was gone, along with all annoying thoughts of Jake. She was fully in the present, and happy there.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been in your dreams,” he said. “It’s harder to do than I thought, especially across this distance.”

“So it was easier when I was close by?”

“Much easier. Plus there was no time difference to worry about.”

“Why was it easier when I was near?”

He didn’t answer for a few paces. She thought she knew the answer.

“When you weren’t around, it was easier for her to shut me down completely.”

She was right.

“The thing is, she’s never had any trouble shutting me down before. She controls me like a puppet. I’ve been around plenty of people before, but no one was able to break that. Until you.”

That, she did not expect.

“What do you mean?”

Randy turned to her and gave her a soft, gentle, sad smile that nearly broke her heart.

“I mean, I’ve been around people. I’ve done things to people for her. And nobody made me want to challenge her, nobody made me want to stay awake, nobody made me want to reach out … until you came along.”

She gave his hand a hard squeeze, and he squeezed back. Such life in him, it seemed.

“But, why?”

“Why do you make me feel alive? Why do you make me want to be alive? I wish I knew.”

He stopped and faced her then, close, and she felt the breeze and knew the birds were there chirping away but they all faded to the background when he leaned slightly forward and kissed her. She had expected the bracing cold of before but his lips were warm and wet. She gave her mouth to him fully and they embraced in the field of waving flowers. Randy seemed to have trouble breathing while kissing just like a normal, alive man, and after a while they broke off. She leaned her head in the hollow of his shoulder and waited for her heart to stop racing.

“That was so different,” she said. “How can you be dead? You’re so warm.”

“It’s a trick. We’re in Dreamland. I can change things here, just a little bit. I can make them be what I want them to be, not what they are.”

“So the other night, back in Petit Royale?”

“That was me. That was the real me. This is the new, Dreamland-improved me. Which do you like better?”

“The real you. Cold lips and all.”

He laughed and they resumed walking, but now their arms hung loosely together and they bumped together more often, as if they had become drunk. Abigail felt like maybe she had.

Mama Lona's Man
The Straw Man Series Book One
Brett O'Neal Davis

Genre: Paranormal Romance 

ISBN: 9781301347049

Number of pages: 219
Word Count: 74,000

Cover Artist: Cate Meyers

Smashwords Amazon

Book Description:

Mama Lona’s Man combines a Caribbean love story with a zombie thriller. It’s a bit James Bond, a bit "How Stella Got Her Groove Back" and a dash of "Night of the Living Dead.

The leading man is a ex-Navy SEAL controlled by a witch doctor. When he meets an American girl caught up in island intrigue, they fall in love even though he's been dead longer than she's been alive.

Extended description from Smashwords:

“Mama Lona’s Man” is a fast-moving, funny, sometimes bittersweet tale about a young woman who meets the love of her life, only there’s one hitch: He’s lost his life and become a zombie. As Rolling Stone once said about Jim Morrison, the title character of this novel is hot, sexy, and dead. 

Abigail Callisto is a brilliant, troubled college student living in the suburbs of Washington, D.C. When her father’s shadowy government employer sends him to the Caribbean to tamp down a pending coup attempt on the small island nation of Petit Royale, she goes along so he can also keep an eye on her and keep her out of trouble. She thinks it’s a lark; she has no idea her life is about to change forever.

Petit Royale is governed by the jovial but corrupt Marcos Verriera, whose brother, Abraham, has long sought to replace him as president. Abigail’s father has operatives on the island; they tell him that Marcos has gone around the bend and is kidnapping children, possibly for sex trafficking. What the operatives don’t tell him is that they are actually working for Abraham and they are the ones actually doing the kidnapping. The children aren’t harmed, but are held so Abraham can pretend to release them and be a hero.

To try to sway Abigail's father to their side, the operatives decide to kidnap Abigail. They drug her in the night and carry her to the gates of the presidential mansion, where they set her down. They know that Abraham’s militia is moving in that night and they want Abigail to be among those rescued. It doesn’t quite work out that way.

Petit Royale has its own special version of the bogeyman: A spectral figure known only as Mama Lona’s man. He’s a ghost who has been known to deal murderous vengeance on those who abuse children. The plan is for Abraham’s men to dispense with Marcos Verriera and blame his disappearance on Mama Lona’s Man.

Abigail is discovered by the presidential guards and brought into the mansion, where President Marcos Verriera himself questions her. He knows what his brother is up to, and he knows that having a kidnapped American girl in his house is not a good thing for him. Suddenly shooting erupts and he runs away, leaving Abigail to fend for herself. She crawls into the interior of the mansion, trying to get away, only to find herself in the middle of a gun battle between Marcos’ men and Abraham’s men.

She’s trying to figure a way out of it when something amazing happens. A man walks right through the fight, as if it’s not happening, and begins looking for Marcos Verriera. Abigail watches as he gets shot several times and not only survives but barely seems to notice. He’s a good-looking young white man, not much older than her own 20 years.

He sees Abigail, and, recognizing a damsel in distress, takes her along as he searches the mansion. Abigail is amazed to see him shot a couple more times as he makes his way in pursuit of Marcos Verriera, who has fled down a secret hallway that leads to the ocean. The man manages to catch his boat just before it leaves, and he quickly blows something in the president’s face that knocks him out cold. He does the same to Abigail, only she doesn’t inhale and only pretends to be unconscious so she can study him. He leaves her on a public beach and takes the president away.

She makes her way back to her hotel where her father is angry that she has been out, suspecting her of partying. When she tells him her story, they realize she has seen the mysterious Mama Lona’s man, something akin to spotting Bigfoot. He wants to find the shadowy Mama Lona and discover if her man really did kill the president. Abigail just wants to see him again.

About the Author

rett O’Neal Davis is a native of Florence, Ala., and attended the same high school as Sam Phillips, who discovered Elvis Presley. He studied journalism at the University of North Alabama and the University of Missouri, writing about music whenever possible. He also briefly “fronted” the one-man punk band Screwhead. Despite clearing $1.50 in profit on consignment sales of the band’s lone album at Salt of the Earth Records in Columbia, Mo., he turned to the slightly more stable world of aerospace and defense journalism, working today in the field of unmanned systems and robotics in Washington, D.C. 

He is the author of four science fiction and fantasy novels, all published by Baen Books. The first, The Faery Convention, was listed among the best fantasy novels for 1995 by Science Fiction Chronicle, and Two Tiny Claws was named to the 2000 Books for the Teen Age List by the New York Public Library. An occasional panelist at area science fiction conventions, he also has discussed fiction writing at National Press Club events and at literary festivals, including the annual T.S. Stribling celebration at the University of North Alabama. Mama Lona’s Man is his first foray into paranormal romance, but it won’t be the last.

For more of Brett O'Neal Davis and Mama Lona's Man check out the rest of the tour...

February 2 Interview
Fang-tastic Books

February 3 Guest blog
The Creatively Green Write at Home Mom

February 4 Interview
Roxanne’s Realm

Wednesday, January 30, 2013

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Tuesday, January 29, 2013

Linda Robertson

A Guest Blog and Excerpt by Linda Robertson...


I have been bartending a couple nights a week for a few months now. It’s been fun and interesting, and since I hadn’t tended bar before, I had a lot to learn. I’ve noticed that some people are set solidly in their ways, same drink every time, period. Others vary quite adventurously in their liquor-vices.

I’ve been wondering what I could concoct that would, to me, represent my characters.

First off, taste is a very sensual thing. It is focused completely in your mouth and on your tongue. But it also engages other senses. We can be tempted—or turned off—by the sight of the dish. I constantly wish my recipe books and restaurant menus had pictures for each entry. I’ve watched a friend make yummy noises while eating something that looked completely gross to me, but when I tried it…scrumptiousness blossomed across my taste buds. Let’s not forget about smell. If a dish smells of severe spiciness, I will most likely pass on trying it.

In coming up with these mixes, I considered the 5 Basic Flavors: sweet, bitter, sour, salty and umami (savory). Then I thought about the temperature—cold, frozen, room temperature, warm, or hot. And I gave a little consideration to the texture as well.

Here’s what I came up with:

PERSEPHONE: the witch-next-door with a big, bad destiny that is
sometimes sweet, and sometimes sour.

2 ½ oz. PAMA Pomegranate Liqueur
1 oz. Tequila (A Reposado version of your favorite brand. It means ‘rested’
because this kind of tequila has been aged in oak barrels; nice golden color)
½ oz. Triple Sec
½ oz. simple syrup (1 part sugar/1 part water; boil; cool completely; bottle and store in refrigerator)
½ oz. Lime Juice

Rim the serving glass with red sugar crystals. Pour ingredients into shaker. Add ice. Shake it up. Pour. Garnish with a lime wedge.

JOHNNY: a tall, dark wærewolf who is sweet and strong.

1 cup Kahlua Mudslide mix (with alcohol in it)
2 oz. Razzmatazz raspberry liqueur
2 scoops chocolate chunk black raspberry ice cream
2 oz. whole milk
½ cup ice

Blend until smooth. Pour in a big cup. You won’t want to share with your friends. Make ‘em make their own.

MENESSOS: an old vampire, with bite.

2 oz. Firewater (100 Proof Cinnamon Schnapps)

Serve straight, room temperature, no ice. Enjoy the burn.

It is release day for SHATTERED CIRCLE as this post goes live at Cloey’s Book Reviews. Thanks for having me on your blog today. I’ll be celebrating…but I’m not sure which of these I’ll have, but I’m raising a glass to you! Thanks! --Linda

The main door opened and Meroveus, Advisor to the Excelsior and currently their esteemed guest, entered the suite. “She is back?” he asked.

“That is what I’m told,” Goliath answered. “If you’re referring to Ms. Alcmedi, that is.”

“I am. Is she here?”

Leaning on one elbow, Goliath reclined. “She required a shower.” He wanted to give his nose a quick pinch to indicate she’d reeked of the scummy edges of Lake Erie, but he refrained. He was a Master now; taunting disdain was no longer acceptable.

Mero headed for the iron-studded door. Goliath cleared his throat.

In mid-reach for the knob, Mero stopped. His hand fell to his side and he turned on his heel. “I have been disrespectful. Forgive me, Haven Master.”

His sardonic grin flashed fang. “Does urgency always make you thoughtless?”

“I assumed that Menessos was still lord of these chambers, and that she was with him in the rear chamber.”

Goliath sat up, placed his elbows on his knees, and clapped his hands together. “Hear me, Advisor Meroveus, and do not forget my words: The former Haven Master may have extended you many courtesies, but barging into his private chamber—especially if you think Ms. Alcmedi may be attending him—would be particularly dangerous.”

Mero glanced at the main door as if he would leave, but there was uncertainty in his expression.

“To be honest,” Goliath added as he stood, “I have not yet made claim to these rooms, and, as you have assumed, the former Quarterlord is in the rear chamber. However, my Erus Veneficus has her own suite.” He used the formal title of the court witch for impact.

Mero blinked.

It seemed to Goliath that the other vampire had not considered that in declaring this the Cleveland haven and Goliath the master of it, Persephone would by default become Goliath’s court witch. Her services were now his to command.


There were many prophesies concerning the Lustrata. The one that the vampires were most concerned with claimed she was incredibly valuable to them. Because of this, they could not dare to kill her. But they could do much without killing her. The question was: What would interfere with her destiny, and what wouldn’t?

Menessos would know the most about it, so Goliath resolved to follow his Maker’s lead. “Dabbling in the destiny that Menessos, the witch, and the Domn Lup share is a hazardous pastime, Mero. I strongly suggest you stay the hell out of their way.”

Mero quoted the prophesy:

“Lustrata walks,

unspoiled into the light.

Sickle in hand,

she stalks through the night

wearing naught but her mark and silver blade.

The moonchild of ruin, she becomes Wolfsbane.

“According to my interpretation,” Mero concluded, “she must be marked.”

Menessos breathed deep. Releasing it, he said, “Your interpretation is bullshit.”

Mero’s brows rose in surprise.

Goliath struggled to keep a laugh from getting out.

“The Witch Elders Council will not stand for their Lustrata to be marked by the Excelsior,” Menessos said. “Would you risk a war?”


Opening the closet there, Beverley dug straight to the back where the item she wanted was stored. Her little hands grasped the cold sides of the rock-board and she pulled. It was heavy and the cast on her arm made the task more difficult. She lost her grip on the slate—the bottom edge dropped onto the top of her foot.

Stifling her yelp of pain, she regained her grasp and silently laid it flat on the floor before shutting the closet door. Crouching between the bed and the wall so she couldn’t be seen from the doorway, she studied all the strange symbols painted across the surface. She’d heard Seph and Celia talking about this. Great El’s slate.

They’d said that a person could talk to ghosts with this . . . and that Seph had used it to find her mother.

But how does it work?

Beverley ran her hands over the surface. Her fingers traced the lines of a symbol here, there. They tingled like the fine lines of her fingerprint weren’t so fine after all.

She studied her index finger, then compared it to her other hand’s index finger. If one tingles . . . what does two do? She picked two symbols she liked that were side by side and put her fingertips to the slate. Carefully, slowly, she traced both. The tingling began immediately and resonated through her hands and into her wrists. Suddenly, some force grabbed her hands. She gasped and tried to pull away, but it just squeezed tighter.

It dragged her fingers along to one symbol, then on to another. She watched in horror as all her fingers were pulled across the board, each finger moving independently. The more symbols she traced, the more the tingling increased. It became like a fire inside her skin, swelling up through her thin arms, crackling through the broken bone.

It hurt. It hurt so bad. She drew a breath to scream—

—and then it felt good.

It wasn’t hot, merely warm. It wasn’t warmth like summer, though, not something a thermometer would show. This was warmth of another kind. The kind only a heart could feel. She felt so . . .


A shimmer flashed across the surface of the board.

She whispered, “Mommy?”

Shattered Circle
Persephone Alcmedi

Linda Robertson

Mass Market Paperback: 384 pages
Publisher: Pocket Books

ISBN-10: 1451648936
ISBN-13: 978-1451648935


It’s tough being a modern woman, but Persephone Alcmedi has it worse than most. Being the prophesied Lustrata has kicked her career as a witch into high gear, and juggling a wærewolf boyfriend who is about to become king of his kind and a seductive vampire who bears her magical Mark isn’t easy either.

Still, Seph’s beloved foster daughter, Beverley, is causing more trouble than these two men put together. The young girl’s been playing with a magical artifact that’s far more dangerous than she realizes. Now Seph must summon help from a mystical being so potent that even vampires fear him . . . and the cost of his aid may be more than she’s willing to pay. Seph, Johnny, and Menessos face threats from all sides—and a few from within. Will the forces of destiny cement their tenuous supernatural union, or shatter it forever?

Simon and Schuster Amazon BN BooksaMillion IndieBound

About the Author

Linda Robertson is the mother of four wonderful boys, owns three electric guitars, and is followed around by a big dog named after Bela Lugosi. Once upon a time she was a lead guitarist in a heavy metal cover band and has worked as a graphic artist. She still composes and creates art, when time permits. Linda currently writes and rocks in northeast Ohio. Visit her at and @authorLinda 

For more of Linda Robertson's Shattered Circle visit the following sites...

Urban Fantasy Investigations

Keeping Up With The Rheinlander's

Happy Tails and Tales

Storm Goddess Book Reviews

Deal Sharing Aunt

A Bibliophiles Thoughts on Books

Books, Books The Magical Fruit

Books & Beauty

Romancing the Dark Side

On the Broomstick

Andi’s Book Reviews

Intoxicated by Books

Place of Reads Book Blog

Victoria Danann

My Guilty Obsession

Immortality & Beyond

Monday, January 28, 2013

Kevin Klehr

Guest Blog by Kevin Klehr...


It took eight drafts before the final rewrite for my publisher, to get my novel in print. Along the way there was a draft we don’t talk about, but I’ll break my cone of silence and mention it later.

It seemed like a fun hobby. Something I had given away in my childhood years once puberty took over. I hadn’t picked up a pen and a notepad for many years, so now was the time to rediscover an early passion. That was ten years ago, and since the ballpoint first touched down on the paper, it has been re-imagined many times over.

Originally the novel was called Staging Life and began with our two leads, Allan and Warwick, visiting Allan’s eccentric uncle in the country. Besides a new love interest in the form of a retired poet named Pamela, Uncle Bryant had another surprise in store for his nephew. He built a rocket and expected Allan and Warwick to test drive it. This led to their demise where several celestial characters waited to greet them, including two women and a dirty old man.

This first draft took several years to finally complete, but once it passed the eyes of my assessor, I took my critique like a man. First off, she hated the fact that I began my novel with backstory. She told me that it was like idling your car before you drive it, keeping the reader waiting until the real journey begins. The lead up to their death could be told in flashback.

She was supportive of my writing in other ways, but pointed out two other major flaws. One was the number of characters I had. There were way too many, and several of them were extras rather than main players in too many scenes. The other was my lack of story. Allan and Warwick explored the Afterlife as passive observers.

After years of studying theater, film and television, I had forgotten the basic starting point of entertaining an audience - the story. My assessor was my first teacher in this venture, and guided me through two more drafts. Soon I joined a writers group, attended workshops, and popped up my first chapter online for review.

By the second draft, some characters were deleted while others morphed into one; my fantasy-like backstory was replaced with something more realistic; and my main characters began to have romantic issues. My assessor also told me to expand on the theater angle of the tale.

A bit of honesty here – my assessor is one of the best in the business, but I couldn’t afford her once the drafts extended beyond novella length. I worked hard on the rewrites, getting a lot of advice along the way. At the same time I was sending out various drafts, trying to get it published.

One US publisher did bite, but when I read the contract, alarm bells began to ring. Firstly, it was written in a way that would make me give up my copyright for good. Secondly, my royalties were severely diminished. Finally, if I wanted to write anything else, even if it was a pamphlet, I had to seek permission from the publisher. That last condition was the weirdest. As soon as I questioned the contract, the company dropped me like a hot potato.

Another small Australian publisher did give me some good feedback on my first chapter, but we’re not interested in giving me a contract. They did offer an assessment service that gave me the opinion of several professionals, and even though it was a bit costly, I thought it was worth it. Around that time I read of an Irish author in the same boat. She sent her manuscript to a publisher’s assessment service, and after taking on board their comments, rewrote her novel and finally had it published by the same company.

I thought I’d do one better (and this is where that ill-fated ninth draft came into play) – I took a few ideas from my rejection letter (which at the very least, gave me a sense of what type of books they were after), and rewrote the novel again. My partner told me this was a dumb idea and said I should have just passed on my latest draft. I should have listened.

The ninth draft made no sense. The characters’ motivations didn’t fit in with new twists in the plot, but I handed it in, thinking of it as a first draft for a new publisher. The assessment came back. It was scathing.

I licked my wounds and sometime later, spruced up the eighth draft for self-publishing in 2010. It was only on the market for three months before Charles River Press offered me a contract for the novel.

The final version has more rewrites, but this time under the direction of the publisher’s assigned editor. It’s a great feeling to know that it’s finally out there. The next one won’t take as long.

Drama Queens with Love Scenes 
Drama Queens Series Book One 

Kevin Klehr 

Genre: Gay Romance, Humour 
Publisher: Cambridge Press US (division of Charles River Press) 

Paperback ISBN 10: 1-936185-90-3 
Paperback ISBN 13: 978-1-936185-90-0
EBook ISBN 10: 1-936185-91-1
EBook ISBN 13: 978-1-936185-91-7
Number of pages: 338 
Word Count: 71,329

Cover Artist: Laurie McAdams 

Book Trailer:

Amazon BN Queer Books

Book Description:

Close friends Allan and Warwick are dead. They're not crazy about the idea so to help them deal with this dilemma are Samantha, a blond bombshell from the 1950s, and Guy, an insecure angel.

They are soon drawn into the world of theatre - Afterlife style, with all the bitchiness, back-stabbing and ego usually associated with the mortal world.

Allan also has a secret. He has a romantic crush on his friend, Warwick, but shortly after confiding in his new angel pal, his love interest falls for the cock-sure playwright, Pedro.

Not only does Allan have to win the heart of his companion, he also has to grapple with the faded memory of how he actually died.

Short Excerpt:

Warwick looked up and smiled. I wanted to savor his maroon lips. Their sheen was highlighted against the claret colored wall. I wanted to reach behind his head and slide my fingers through his thick curly hair, before slowly moving his lips to mine.

“I’m astounded!” he said.

I paused my daydream to compute what he’d uttered.

“Reassuringly ‘feels like home’ astounded, or unnervingly ‘what the frig’ astounded?”

“More like ‘stunned, I need answers but not jumping to conclusions’ astounded.”

“Warwick, at this stage we have no choice but to jump to conclusions. Where are we?”

“In the Limelight Quarter,” he replied blank faced.

“Very funny. You know what I mean.”

My friend wandered to the window. I watched him, unrealistically believing he could give me all the answers. He viewed the flourishing garden outside before turning to me.

“They all seem secretive,” he said. “The only answer I seem to get from people is the Limelight Quarter. I don’t feel we’re in danger though.”

“What choice do we have? After bonding with Guy last night, I feel pretty safe, too.”

“I guess it makes sense to find comfort in an angel. He’s the only one who has to be a true local.”

“Comfort, yes, answers, no.”

“Allan, I thought you’d find him sort of a geek. He’s a bit Gomer Pyle. When we first got here, you were admiring Samantha’s outfit and gawking at Guy’s.”

There was not much I could keep secret from Warwick.

“Okay, I did at first, but you left me so I had to get to know him. In some ways he reminded me of what I was like when you first met me. A bit of a lost soul. Our chat helped take my mind off this bizarre place.”

“Yes, Allan, I went home with Pedro to take my mind off this bizarre place.”

That repeated phrase reverberated in my head. I stared at Warwick. He stared back. The thought of my demise was hard enough to face, but this version of the Afterlife with no link back to concepts favored in religious texts, made it harder to accept. There was not an omnipotent being in sight. We had one angel surrounded by a cast from different eras of earth-bound time, going about their business with no qualms. And still, no one wanted to elaborate.

“Heaven or Hell?” my friend asked.

“Perhaps Limbo, or maybe we’re just having a weird dream?”

“Of course, Allan, at exactly the same time.” Warwick winked at me.

“Yeah maybe. Your wet-dream with Pedro and my, my...”

“Your buddy-genre dream with an angel.”

He made me smile. As he looked out at the garden again, a more believable explanation came to me.

“Warwick, maybe I’m just in a coma, and somewhere near my hospital bed you’re talking to me, trying to wake me up.”

“Allan, if I am talking to you from your hospital bed, how will I know you can hear me?”

“Look, Warwick, I’m wiggling my toes.”

My friend turned to see me lift my legs and shake both feet.

“Allan, what if you’re covered by a blanket, and I can’t notice your toes?”

“Don’t be silly, you’d notice my toes wiggling under the covers.”

“Maybe there’s a serving tray or a hospital chart on the sheets?”

I thrashed my legs more violently, just in case there was some truth in my theory.

“Allan, you’re not in a coma.”

“How can you be sure?”

“Because from my point of view, I might be the one in a coma.”

My legs stopped kicking.

“Warwick, either way we should keep conversing, so no one ends up pulling the plug from our life support.”

About the Author : 

Kevin lives with his long-term partner in their humble apartment (affectionately named Sabrina), in Australia's own 'Emerald City,' Sydney.

He calls himself a bit of a 'media tart,' having worked both professionally and voluntarily in television, radio and online. His longest running passion is a weekly radio program he and his partner, Warren, produce for local Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander station, Koori Radio. Since 2005 they have been discovering music, both new and old, and interviewing local artists and community leaders. Every Saturday night, the Rhythm Divine is heard across Sydney and via the world wide web.

From an early age Kevin had a passion for writing, jotting down stories and plays until it came time to confront puberty. After dealing with pimple creams and facial hair, Kevin didn't pick up a pen again until he was in his thirties. His handwritten manuscript was being committed to paper when his social circumstances changed, giving him no time to write. Concerned, Warren snuck the notebook out to a friend who in turn came back and demanded Kevin finish his novel. It wasn't long before Kevin's active imagination was let loose again.

Kevin is currently at work on the sequel to Drama Queens with Love Scenes.

For more of the tour visit...

January 15 Feature in Bewitching Book Tours Magazine

January 18 Guest blog
Roxanne’s Realm

January 19 Interview

January 20 Guest blog and review
Words of Wisdom from The Scarf Princess

January 21 Promo
Fang-tastic Books

January 23 Interview

January 30 review

January 31 Guest blog
The Creatively Green Write at Home Mom

February 1 Interview and review
books & tales 

Saturday, January 26, 2013

Giveaways and promotions all month long!

A personal thank you to all the authors who started this journey with me and shared my blog with their publishers, friends, followers, and fans - you ROCK! 

This year will be bigger than last year - together we are giving the world their next hot read.

Thursday, January 24, 2013

Lindsay J. Pryor

Review of Blood Shadows by Lindsay J. Pryor

Blood Shadows extract – taken from Chapter One

He appeared from behind her.

His movements were swift and accurate: snatching the gun from her hand, in the same instant he forced her face-first up against the wall, her earpiece hitting the ground.

She caught her breath, pressed her palms and knee to the wall in preparation to push back but his hard body was already against hers, his power reminding her that the strength she had in spirit was absolutely no match for the supposedly three hundred-year-old six-foot vampire who had her pinned to the wall as easily as he would a sheet of paper. And as she felt the tip of her own gun press below her ribs, she knew all four shots of the potent sedative, too powerful for the human body, would end it all for her.

Just like that.

But instead of firing, his soft lips brushed her ear, the arrogant upward curl of those enticing bow lips as clear in her mind as if he were facing her. He tutted playfully, his low rasp raking beneath her skin. ‘A little girl doing a man’s job – bound to end in tears.’

Caitlin clenched her fists. Brovin and Morgan had to be less than a minute away. She had to stall him. Her instinct was to try to reach back and catch his wrist. All she needed was her fingers on his pulse point and she’d finally know those dark recesses that no expert could reach – information she so desperately needed. But she knew she wouldn’t have enough time to wait for that painfully slow vampire heartbeat, even if she was in a position to get to him. There was only one way she was going to get the time with him that she wanted and needed.

‘Kane Malloy, I’m detaining you under section 3.4 of the Vampire Disciplinary Clause…’

He laughed, deep, guttural, terse. ‘You’re detaining me?’

‘On twenty-one alleged accounts of crimes against members of the third species including your own, thirty-two against humans…’

‘Delusional as well as reckless. Are you seriously the best they’ve got?’

‘It’s over, Kane.’

‘You breathe too fast to be convincing,’ he goaded.

‘You don’t breathe enough to judge me.’

He exhaled curtly. Panic jolted through her as he deftly unclasped the belt threaded through her jeans. To her disgust, for the first time on any tracking operation, she froze.

Kill her? Yes, of course the thought had crossed her mind. No matter how unbelievable or surreal it seemed, she had known it was a possibility. But rape? With her colleagues closing in there was no way even Kane would have the arrogance to attempt it in the minutes, maybe even seconds he had left.

But this was Kane. And if he wanted to leave a message for the VCU, a dead and violated tracker would ring loud and clear.

The fact she'd even got this close would be insult too much for his ego.

She snapped back a breath as he yanked her belt through the loops. And as his heel cracked the buckle, destroying the only way the VCU could locate her, she knew it was about to get worse.

Her phone followed next, removed from her back pocket by his stealthy fingers.

‘You’re lucky you serve a purpose,’ he said, combing her hair back over her shoulder.

Her heart pounded painfully. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

‘You’re the one who’s obsessed with me – what do you think?’
As he traced the back of his cool fingers tenderly down her exposed neck, a caress more sensual than she would have thought possible for someone with such renowned brutality, Caitlin held her breath. She was stunned by her own involuntary arousal, suppressing it with every iota of conviction she had.

‘I think you’d better walk away,’ she said, battling to get her focus back on the job. ‘Or give yourself up.’

‘Not going to happen, Caitlin.’ Pressing the tranquiliser gun tighter into her side, Kane made her wince, his reputation restored. ‘Question is, are you going to walk out of here co-operatively or am I going to have to carry you?’

Blood Shadows 

Blackthorn Series Book One
Lindsay J. Pryor

Genre: Paranormal Romance
Publisher: Bookouture 

ISBN: 9781909490000

Cover Artist: Henry Steadman

Book Trailer:

Amazon Apple Kobo

Barnes and Noble Sony ebooks

Book Description:

For vengeance - would you trust a vampire?

For justice - could you betray your family?

For love - are you ready to question everything you believe in?

Gifted with the ability to read the shadows of ‘third species’ beings, Caitlin Parish is the Vampire Control Unit’s most powerful agent. Despite that, her mission to hunt down Kane Malloy – a master vampire – comes with a death wish. Many have tried, but few have survived.

For Caitlin, tracking Kane is about more than just professional reputation. With her parents both mysteriously killed 7 years apart to the day, Caitlin knows that without Kane’s help she is next.

She has four days to make a deal with the wicked, the irresistible, the treacherous Kane Malloy. The vampire who despises everything she stands for.

Or die.

You can read the first three chapters on Scribd for free:

Check Out What Readers Have to Say About Blood Shadows:

“Lindsay J. Pryor easily earns a place alongside Paranormal Romance's best writers!” ~ Michele Hauf

“An incredible voice for paranormal.” ~ Rhyannon Byrd

“I drooled on my keyboard.”

“Wow! This is just soooo good.”

“Utterly captivating.”

“Flawless, tight, sensual, electrifying!”

“Tell Kane he can have my soul RIGHT NOW!”

“Every moment was dripping with tension.”

“I forgot to blink.”

“Girl, you can WRITE! And you can write sexxxy!”


“I nearly fainted when he removed her belt.”

“The sexual tension is off the charts.”

“After Kenyon’s Zarek, I thought I’d never fall for another bad boy again...”

“Jaw-droppingly good... I’d want to shout ‘Bite Me!’”

About the Author: 

Lindsay J. Pryor is a British Paranormal Romance author who writes dark, intense stories set in the dystopian world of Blackthorn.

Her trademark powerful vampire heroes and utterly combustible sensual romances have earned Lindsay comparisons with both J.R Ward and Sherrilyn Kenyon.

A finalist in Mills & Boon’s New Voices competition in both 2010 and 2011, Lindsay has already proved a smash hit with readers.

Comments like “Utterly captivating”, “Jaw-droppingly good”, “Awesome”, “I forgot to blink”, “The sexual tension is off the charts”, “I nearly fainted when he removed her belt”, “I drooled on my keyboard” and even “Tell Kane he can have my soul RIGHT NOW!” convinced Lindsay she just might have what it took to become a published author.

With the launch of Blood Shadows, that dream is now a reality. Her journey to published author though has been a long one.

Lindsay has been creating stories since she was nine years old, when she quickly decided that fantasy was more interesting than reality. She thought she’d grow out of it but hasn’t yet.

Despite years of bashing out stories on an old typewriter, it was the death of her father in 2007 that finally convinced Lindsay to try and become a published author.

“One of the last things my dad said to me was to do what I wanted to do in life. After he passed away, I pulled out all my scribbles from over the years and got back to writing what I loved most – paranormal romance.”

If reviews are anything to go by, it was a journey well worth making.

Caitlin agrees to work undercover to get information on the powerful vampire Kane Mallory. Then Caitlin soon discovers that she is not smarter then a very old master vampire - shocker! 

Kane has plans for Caitlin too and she falls right into his trap. Ms. Pryor gives us a story filled with mystery and betrayal that will kept me turning the pages to find out is really going on with Kane the master vampire. And the tension between Caitlin and Kane is hot.

Ms. Pryor created a world that will make me think - yes that could happen - humans can be more devious then the predators. This story is filled with twists and turns, you must add it to your to read list.

Goodreads page for the giveaway of 5 signed copies of Blood Shadows:

More of the Tour...

January 25 Interview and review
Marked By Books

Tuesday, January 22, 2013

M.L. Ryan

Excerpt by M.L. Ryan and Review...

A Best Book Ever...

When I read the book description I thought - well this may be an okay story at least the "man stuck in an ebook reader" aspect was different. And I also thought that it would be a sappy romance novel maybe with a love triangle. And then I started reading it... and fell in love with the character Hailey and her co-workers - whoa!

From the first chapter to the last there is something to laugh or smile at while reading. M. L. Ryan came up with a hilarious story about Hailey's last job and why she wasn't working there anymore - that's where I got hooked into the story. I thought if the story starts out this crazy then it's for me. I was right.

The book is written in a casual language that feels more conversational like - meaning... It's fun and easy to read. I like the humor, the mystery, and the adventure - even the not so sexy parts. Don't pass this one by - you have got to read it.

As I lay in the darkness, it occurred to me that I must be the most boring single 30 year-old ever. I didn’t go out much, I ate crappy food. I couldn’t even remember the score of the games I just watched.

This was not how I had imagined myself at this point in my life. Had my marriage not crashed and burned, we probably would have a baby by now. Yeah, and I would still be married to an asstard. He probably would have spawned asstardlets. I just wanted to feel like my life was going somewhere, like I was accomplishing something. Rolling over on my side, I vowed to try to get myself together and move forward.

When I finally fell asleep, I dreamt I went on my first post-divorce date. The guy took me to a fancy restaurant, ordered lots of food and expensive wine and then ditched me for the voluptuous hostess. I was presented with the check but lacked any means of paying it. After negotiating a payment plan with the restaurant owner, which involved allowing him to indulge his foot fetish with my pinkie toes and some flavored whipped cream, I left the place and got into my car, which was really weird, because my date drove.

There in the parking lot were dine-and-dash and the hostess, groping each other with utter abandon. I revved up the engine, threw the car into drive and peeled out towards them. The headlights illuminated their stunned faces as I spun the car sharply, rolled down the window and chucked a lit Molotov cocktail - made from the empty wine bottle from dinner - at them and sped off humming the theme to “The Lion King.”

I woke up thinking I must be making progress. Usually in my dreams I ran them over after I set them on fire.

Special Offers
Book One
Coursodon Dimension Series
M.L. Ryan

ISBN: 978-0615672762
retail $8.99


Book Description:

As soon as Hailey Parrish discovered her husband was cheating with her co-worker, she swore off men. She had to find another job when her boss went to prison for being a pimp in his spare time. Three years later. Hailey still hadn’t gone on a date and she milks chinchilla for a living. Her life is about to get weirder. 

While in pursuit of inter-dimensional miscreants who use their arcane powers to prey upon humans, Sebastian Kess was ambushed and mortally wounded. To save his life, he used his own magic to convert his soul to binary code and transfer it into Hailey’s soon-to-be shipped Kindle eBook reader. When Hailey inadvertently releases him and he inhabits her body, she finally has a man inside her, just not in the way she imagined.

 Hailey must come to grips with the existence of the parallel dimension of Coursodon and the realization that magically inclined non-humans walk the world while dealing with Sebastian’s arrogant banter in her head. Her predicament also introduces her to another supernatural, the handsome could-be-the-man-of-herdreams Alex Sunderland. 

The action moves from Hailey’s hometown of Tucson, Arizona to New England and across Europe as she and Alex try to return Sebastian to his own body while staying one step ahead of the criminals who want to keep him where he is. 

Special Offers, the first book of the Coursodon Dimension Series, combines paranormal romance, urban fantasy, a bit of science fiction and a healthy dose of quirky humor.

Amazon: (Kindle and paperback)

Smashwords: (ePub for Nook, iPad, Kobo)

About the Author:

Scientist by day, paranormal romance-urban fantasy author by night, M.L. Ryan is a professional woman - which is not to say that she gave up her amateur status, but rather that she is over-educated with a job that reflects her one-time reluctance to leave school and get "real" work – and she spends a lot of time in that profession reading highly technical and dry material. In an attempt to strengthen the other side of her brain, M.L decided to write some of the many stories rolling around in her head. M.L. Ryan lives in Tucson, Arizona with her husband and teenage son, four cats, two dogs and two adopted desert tortoises.

Webpage: The Coursodon Dimension

Blog: Random Thoughts from a Self-Publishing Virgin

Twitter: @MLRyan1

Paranormal Romance…Things that go bump in the night, things that go hump in the night…

Thursday, January 17, 2013

Jade Hart

An Interview with Jade Hart and review of Ocean Kills

Come join me in welcoming Jade Hart to Cloey's Book Reviews and Other Stuff. I am so happy to share her book Ocean Kills with you and am very happy to have Ms hart here to share her writing process with us today.

Cloey: When did you become interested in writing? 

Jade: I was homeschooled in Hong Kong and part of my lessons were daily creative writing lessons. They were my favourite part. Plus, I was a terrible book-worm. I was grounded many times for reading at the table. It was a no brainer that I’d end up writing for my career.

Cloey: What inspired you to write Ocean Kills?

Jade: I’ve always liked darker books. And wanted to create a character who was heavily flawed, and survived a past that might have broken so others. Ocean and her vigilante ways are slightly different to normal heroines, and Callan – the love interest – really grew on me until he became just as important as Ocean.

Cloey: Is there a message in your novel that you want readers to grasp?

Jade: Not sure about a message, Just good versa evil and lots of areas of gray. For instance, Ocean kills a man involved in a sex ring in South Africa. He’s a bad man and ruined many girls lives, but killing is wrong too. When does it become okay for one bad act to be acceptable? 

Cloey: Who was your favorite character and who was your least favorite character to develop and why? 

Jade: My favorite character was Ocean, but Callan is a very very close second. Love those two. I also adore Maurice, Ocean’s adoptive father. He is a very dear man. The least favourite character was Atsu Bazeer – the sex trafficking overlord. Writing him wasn’t fun.

Cloey: What did you enjoy most about writing Ocean Kills?

Jade: I loved getting into different headspaces. Ocean Kills is told in alternate POV’s and it was refreshing writing from Callan’s mind after being in Ocean’s seeing as she deals with a lot of issues.

Cloey: What were the challenges (research, literary, psychological, and logistical) in bringing the story to life?

Jade: The main challenge was researching the sex industry. Finding out what happened to women captured and making sure my facts were correct. It was hard to read about the truth of what happens to innocent girls and women.

Cloey: What are you working on now?

Jade: I’m currently working on Ocean Slays (book two of Ocean Breeze) and Coffee and Cockpits. A NA Contemp Romance about a flight attendant who likes the copilot and the engineer and can’t decide who to have, and ends up having both. It’s fun and quirky. (Can be found on Goodreads).

Cloey: What do you like to read in your free time?

Jade: I read a lot of self-published work and love how many awesome titles are coming from people who did it all themselves. I also like to read series. I’ve just finished reading the Faefever seires by Karen Marie Moning.

Cloey: Share with us something about yourself that we wouldn't see in your bio or on any other blogs (this can be anything from the type of music you like, your favorite color, or even your favorite meal - share whatever you want your fans to know about you).

Jade: Umm, something no one else knows… that’s hard! Oh I know, a lot of my work is based on facts from my own life. For example, a lot of the hotels, restaurants, locations in Ocean Kills are based on real life places. The sushi restaurant at the beginning is mirror image to the one I ate at in Kings Cross. And Callan’s apartment in Bondi Beach is my old apartment when I lived there. I find it adds authenticity if I’ve been, seen, heard and smelt.

Thanks so much for having me.

A Sexy New Adult Urban Fantasy that takes place in exotic locations, follows a kick-ass heroine, and a swoon-worthy hero. Warning - contains sex

Excerpt: Thanks so much

Chapter One:

My name is Ocean Breeze. Yep. Ocean freakin' Breeze. It was my mom's attempt at some posh-sounding name. She was inspired by—get this—a bottle of toilet air-freshener. My heart squeezed at the thought of the cookie-scented woman with hugs as warm as sunshine.
The sound of my Nikes pummeling the pavement chased away my thoughts, and the slapping of rubber against asphalt was similar to the slap the last prostitute-abusing john gave me. Stinking bastard. No one raises a hand to Ocean Breeze without losing an appendage. Or more, as the case may be.
I swiped my hands on my red vinyl miniskirt. It wasn't exactly an attractive outfit—Nikes with a miniskirt? But I'd learned the hard way. Running in heels never worked. Ever. The sleazy men who paid for sex didn't care what was on my feet, only what was between them.
I jumped and jived through the crowd. It was two in the morning, and the streets of Kings Cross, Sydney, were a hive of activity. Drunken students hauled themselves from karaoke clubs. Rich business men back-slapped each other for the lap dance from the uni-student, who pocketed their tips to pay for her law degree. This place was full of clichés and smut.
And I loved it.
I could disappear here. I was a nobody. Even boasting a pair of ruby lips and a figure that could've graced the center fold of Playboy, I didn’t stand out. Beauty was coveted in the Cross, and plastic surgery was the salvation if nature didn’t do the work.
So why was I running?
I just killed a guy. That's why.
I bolted past the three-story-sized Coca-Cola advertisement, blazing red and white, and disappeared into an alley full of meth-heads and crack whores. I leaped over comatose figures, sprinting toward the city center. Keep running. Get far away.
The night was heavy with muggy heat, unusual for this time of year, and sweat made my miniskirt slide against my thighs.
Kings Cross embraced sin and naughtiness—the suburb encouraged unleashed pleasure and endless partying. It also encouraged rapists and murderers who lurked in the shadows. . . waiting.
A flash of blue and red lights.
Fuck! I pirouetted and charged down another alley, passing a gay club blasting Kylie Minogue. Ugh.
You! Stop!”
Yeah, no chance of that, fat douche. I flipped him the bird and kept running. He jumped back in his cruiser and gave chase. Lazy bastard. Too many kebabs and doughnuts for that slob. He wouldn't catch me. No one ever caught me.
My ruby lips curved. I loved the chase. I loved the kill. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. I didn’t enjoy murdering someone, but I did enjoy the knowledge that he’d never hurt another. My cut throat actions saved other would-be victims. Plus, that john deserved it.
Memories overtook my vision. Heavy breath on my cheek, rancid smell as he slobbered on my neck. Then warm, oozing blood as my weapon of convenience—a long skinny oyster knife—buried deep in the man's groin. Ridding him of a vital piece of his anatomy and draining his body of crimson. One moment alive, the next—not. Then rushed practicality: Dispose of my surgical gloves. Wipe the corpse with antiseptic wipes. Remove the man's DNA, fingerprints, and blood from my body.
Adrenaline spiked, dousing my already overloaded system. My heart thudded as fast as the bass at a techno club. The pavement flickered and I stumbled.
No, not now! My vision danced like a mirage. I no longer had control of my body.
Sirens were closer, screeching in my ears. Keep moving, Ocean! For freakin' sake, move!
No amount of yelling could stop the migraine from consuming me. I screamed and clutched my temples, slamming to the concrete. The sidewalk danced under my phantasm goggles, no longer acting like rock and tar, but candy floss and gossamer. I'm going. I'm going. . .
Cold claws grasped my bare shoulders. “You're coming with us.”

Ocean Kills 
Ocean Breeze Series Book One
Jade Hart

Genre: new adult sexy urban fantasy

Number of pages: 344
Word Count: 97,000


Book Description:

Around the world, murderers and rapists pick off the innocent. Killing loved ones, separating families, and ruining lives.

As an eight-year-old girl, Ocean witnessed her family’s massacre and something altered inside her. Twisting her genetic code… unlocking an ability to teleport.

Ocean Breeze was never destined to be normal, especially being named after air-freshener. She’s a shadow, a ghost—a dark savior of the innocent. Armed with a switchblade in her bra, and a box-cutter in her pocket, she hunts the filth of the world.

Callan Bliss is a Sydney Police Officer whose skill set is far above a normal cop. All his fellow officers see is a hard-worker who loves to catch perpetrators and surf, but that’s because they don’t know his past. When Callan arrests a suspicious looking prostitute, coming face to face with a self-confessed vigilante, his secrets aren’t that easy to keep silent anymore.

Ocean hates the police with a passion, and has no intention of being held captive by a cop, even if he is sexy as hell. Teleporting from under his nose, Ocean hunts her next target—a man responsible for the largest sex ring in South Africa—and he’s about to die. But she doesn’t count on Callan giving chase, nor the body-quaking lust which consumes them. However, Ocean's dark hobbies take precedence over what her heart wants—her thirst for murdering is killing her too, and not even Callan can save her.

Author Bio:

Jade Hart is a self-confessed book worm who is happiest glued to a lap-top with an eternal battery life, and typing up stories running rampant in her head.

Her three favorite things are:

1. Unlimited books on an Ebook Reader
2. Cracking the sugar on a creme brulee
3. Travelling

She writes New Adult 'smexy' fiction.

Twitter: @jadehart8



Ocean Breeze and Callen Bliss are two of a kind. Both like fighting the bad guys, don't have a problem if the criminal dies, and never follow procedures. When they met they had an instant attraction but because of the circumstances of their introductions it was too weird for Ocean to pursue any type of relationship with Callen so the chase begins.

The thing that kept me turning the pages was my desire to see how they were going to get together. It is a romance novel so I already knew they were going to get together but both of them were very powerful in their particular skill sets. They would make an awesome partnership but as a couple well, I needed to see how the story was going to end. Ms. Hart kept the story interesting and created two badass characters that kept the story going and the ending was excellent. I would recommend adding this book to your library for a quick and entertaining read.