I live on chaos and coffee, and you’ll find it running through every single one of my stories.
First of all, I absolutely abhor writing anything biographical. In any form. I’m terrible at it, and I have the very firm belief that no one wants to know who I am. You’re here for books, right? But that doesn’t mean I’m off the hook.
I grew up sneaking over to my great grandmother’s to read her Harlequin novels. Those were delivered once a month in a ginormous box, and from the age of ten, she let me devour them in their entirety. I fell in love with romance, even the clean kind. And that, undoubtedly, led to many days and nights with my face buried in a book and the discovery that I wasn’t happy unless my hair was up, and I had a story in my hand.
I never wanted to write. I wanted to read. ALL the words. Until someone pointed out to me that I’d been writing my entire life. I just needed to put the book in my hand down and pick up a pen.
Once I started, I found out that I couldn’t stop. Now, I’m always writing. Or reading. Or chasing my son through the house to get the elusive hug he thinks I don’t need.
Oh, and I’m a Leo… which is completely on-point if you know me at all. I love being the center of attention. On my terms. When I can stay at home in my pajamas. With lots and lots of coffee on hand. And maybe a few snacks.
Vincent Franklin’s last mistake had a body count. Now, he’s back on the fireline with something to prove to his fellow firefighters and most of all to himself. But when a sexy Irishman with talent and a camera captures him in a weak moment, he puts Vince’s heart at risk.
Still, there’s something about Aidan that attracts Vince and stirs up feelings he would have preferred to leave locked up and untouched in a dark corner of his heart. Then, after he, and the world, believe Aidan is killed in a tragic accident, Vince struggles to find the courage to love again. His chief worry: Does a screw-up like him even deserve to love again?
Christmas Eve, 2019
Vince was breathing hard. Sweat beaded on his forehead and rolled downward, catching in his eyebrow as he groaned in pleasure and release.
“Holy shit, Mac,” he said as the twitching slowed, and he melted into the body under him. He nuzzled the ear of his partner and tenderly kissed the spot just below, where the neck melded into that beautiful head.
“Mmm,” his partner purred, hips moving languidly around his trapped member and drawing another gasp of pleasure before releasing him. “Merry Christmas, my darling.”
“Are you my night-before-Christmas present?” he asked. “Because I’m afraid that if I stir any creatures—even a mouse—I’ll find this sugarplum is a vision dancing in my head.” After the loss a year ago, and everything he’d been through since, this felt surreal.
Mac gave him a coy look—the one that tugged sexy-feel threads in his chest—then flipped over beneath him and wrapped arms around his neck, lacing fingers through Vince’s short, butterscotch hair. “Sugarplum, huh? Ah, you do know how to flatter the guy below you who is still slightly incoherent from recent…activities.” He pulled Vince down for a kiss, tongue snaking out to lick the sweat off his lips and making Vince groan a little at the image. He cocked his head, raised his eyebrows, and Vince could feel himself stirring again, hardening against the leg resting on him.
Vince looked down at him with wonder. “What did I do to deserve you? You’re so beautiful, and smart, and everything I’m not.”
“Don’t get it twisted, darling,” he drawled as he framed Vince’s face between his hands, “I’m the lucky guy who snagged the hot firefighter who defines straight-up sexy, pardon the hetero pun.” Mac softly placed his lips on Vince’s, starting at his forehead and working his way slowly, so agonizingly slowly, down.
In a flash of searing heat, Vince’s tenderness was replaced with hunger and need. Mac grinned wickedly at Vince’s growl of lust and flipped him over. He hovered above Vince, teasing, letting his breath fall on the sensitive places he’d found and wringing moans of frustration from the beautiful boy beneath him. When his tongue trailed over the bumps of Vince’s abs, the ticklish spot Mac found there caused him to squirm away. And when Mac’s lips engulfed his manhood, Vince lost the ability to form coherent thought.
Everything dissolved into a blur of touch and taste and pressure and pleasure and friction and feeling.
Jessi Noelle was born in South Mississippi, where she worked as a zookeeper and later as a firefighter. She is transgender with two sons, and currently lives in Nashville, TN.
Through the Inferno is her first novel. She is an alum of the inaugural #DVPit, a twitter event where marginalized authors pitch their books to agents. She is currently working on another book set in the The Inferno universe.
Lighting Fire Leslie North
Publication date: August 16th 2018
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance
Sookie Logan is interested in one thing and Chase Kingston is not it. A fiercely independent helicopter pilot for the National Guard, Sookie is back in her hometown to fly her copter and help fight a fire, not to hook up with some junior firefighter from Alaska. Especially when this particular firefighter works for her brother, the one person in the world who’s let her down the most. The hunk in yellow & tan is off limits.
But when a date intended to just make her brother’s blood boil turns into much more, Sookie and Chase give in to their raging attraction. Both agree it’s a quick fling—something that will last only as long as it takes to knock down the flames threatening her town. Leaving Chase behind will be as easy as leaving her hometown was the first time. No attachments. No regrets.
Chase wasn’t looking for a hook-up and definitely not with his boss’s little sister. Besides, Chase isn’t about to fall for Sookie. Their “relationship” is all about the great sex, thank you very much—he’s been burned in the past and there’s no chance of a repeat. No way. Not even if Sookie is starting to get under his skin and he can’t seem to get that little firecracker of his head.
Just when Chase is beginning to believe they may have something real, the demons he’s been fighting for years come back with a vengeance, making a future between the two as unpredictable as the fire they’re fighting. As the fire rages on, will Sookie and Chase douse their own flame? Or realize they’re meant to face any inferno together?
Leslie will be donating 5% of book sales in the first week to a Wildfire Fighting charity called Wildland Firefighter Foundation!
—
EXCERPT:
Chase groaned as he sagged down into his usual chair in the station meeting room. Garrett Wyld, his usual meeting neighbor, reached over to elbow him in the ribs.
“Easy, Wyld!” Chase swapped his mug of coffee to the other hand to keep from spilling any more. Even the shitty station coffee was a precious commodity on a chilly Alaska morning like this.
Garrett just chuckled and shook his head. “Something tells me I’m not the uneasy one. Why the long sigh, Kingston? You get lucky last night?”
Nearby squad members turned their heads, suddenly interested in the exchange. Chase took a sip of his coffee to avoid answering outright. It was a calculated risk, and he lost out—the brew was still hot as hell, even hotter than the blaze at the squad’s last house call. He avoided an outward grimace and paid the price as the fluid scalded his tongue and seared his throat.
“Maybe,” he said enigmatically. At least his poor abused tongue could still deliver the proper air of mystery . . . despite the cloak of mystery getting whisked aside in the next moment.
“You fucking dog.” One of the senior squad members punched his other shoulder, and when Chase switched his coffee from hand to hand this time, he was grinning.
“Ah, to be young!” another lamented.
Chase just shook his head. He had aged out of bragging about his conquests, but he wasn’t above receiving the heaped congratulations his reputation still earned him. He just wished he could remember the name of the gal he’d taken home last night . . . not that it made the least bit of difference. She had shipped in on a cruise liner out of Seattle and had already moved on to the next town by now. It had been fun, plain and simple, and that was how he preferred it. He’d show another sexy tourist the sights—and help her keep her bed warm—before the week was out.
The door blew open, and every head turned from Chase as the fire chief entered. Chase may have been the life of the party, but even he knew he was no match for the big boss himself.
“Listen up.” Hank Logan crossed to the desk at the front of the room and tossed his clipboard down. He leaned back against the table and crossed his burly arms. Chase leaned forward despite himself. He had never seen Hank’s clipboard get the table treatment so early in a meeting. His chief wasn’t even looking to it as a reference now. He was looking straight into the faces of his men.
Something was up.
“New assignment,” Hank told them. “I’m taking a volunteer contingent down to California. Cedar Springs, to be exact. She’s a small town that’s used to the wildfires this time of year passing her by. This latest fire reared up over the past few days.” Hank nodded as if to himself. “Still fairly tame, so it’s a control job to help the local squads keep it from spreading anywhere populated. Low risk, but that doesn’t mean it won’t be dangerous.” Hank surveyed the crew’s faces once more. Chase suppressed the urge to look at Garrett. “A call for supplementary support passed across my desk this morning,” Hank continued, “and I agreed to it. I want to take some men with me down south. Like I said, it’s all voluntary.”
“I’m in,” Chase blurted. No one seemed surprised that he was the first.
“Could be weeks,” Hank noted. “Maybe even months. Think the pretty tourists who disembark down at the port can spare you?”
Chase rocked back in his chair and flipped up the bill of his cap with a grin. “They’re going to have to.”
“If Kingston’s going, then so am I,” Garrett volunteered. “Can’t let you boys have all the fun!”
Hank nodded. “Anyone else?”
The shouted affirmations came quickly after that. As Hank’s offer sank in, every member of the squad suddenly realized that he or she could use a little extra Vitamin D. Once the contingent had filled out, they were dismissed. Chase rose, still grinning, and left at the head of the class. His pulse raced with equal parts caffeine and excitement for what his summer now had in store. Still, one question lingered in his mind.
“Cedar Springs,” he said aside to Garrett as they headed for the locker room. “Why does the name sound familiar?”
“I was wondering that myself, and then I remembered,” Garrett said as he pulled open his locker. “Cedar Springs is Chief’s hometown.”
“How the hell do you know a thing like that?” Hank almost never talked about himself. He left the airing of intimate anecdotes to . . . well, to people like Chase.
Garrett shrugged. “He mentioned it once to me when we went out for a drink.”
“Bet you he has a childhood sweetheart stashed away down there,” Chase said.
Garrett snorted his disbelief. “I’ll take that bet.” They shook on it, then locked eyes. Chase could see his own excitement mirrored in Garrett’s expression. Screw dangerous, this latest assignment was going to be more fun than a summer’s worth of Alaskan nights spent in the company of any one of those down-south Dorothys who hailed from the Emerald City.
Guess I’ll have to find a girl’s bed to warm down in Cali, Chase thought as he tossed back the rest of his coffee.
He was looking forward to it.
Author Bio:
Leslie North is the pen name for a critically-acclaimed author of women’s contemporary romance and fiction. The anonymity gives her the perfect opportunity to paint with her full artistic palette, especially in the romance and erotic fantasy genres.
The truth of the matter is she loves her fictional persona, Leslie North, more than her normal, day-to-day persona! Her bestselling books focus on strong characters and particularly women who aren’t afraid to challenge an alpha male. Inspired after years of travel, her stories are set all over the world, from the tough streets of Russia to the beautiful beaches of the middle east.
Leslie fell in love with romance when she first picked up a scrappy, dog-eared romance book from her local library. She began writing soon after and the rest, as they say, was history. She now lives in a cozy cottage on the British coast and enjoys taking long walks with her two Dalmatians, George and Fergie.
She LOVES reader feedback, and if you have any comments, don’t hesitate to contact her via e-mail: leslie@leslienorthbooks.com.
“You have to be exhausted after working until this morning and then dealing with my apartment this afternoon.” I nibbled my bottom lip. “What if I made dinner? I haven’t eaten yet, and I’m sure you haven’t either.”
“I have a better idea. Why don’t we order some pizzas and watch TV for a while? We can sit on the couch and just relax for the rest of the night. Put on PJs and kick back.”
I arched a brow. “You own pajamas?”
“Well, I own pajama pants. Does that count?”
Holy Jesus, was he seriously going to run around without a shirt? Because I wasn’t sure my hormones could handle it. The hint of muscle I could see through his t-shirts was enough to make me drool. I didn’t think I could handle bare skin. Although, it would be a nice distraction from my problems, as long as I could keep my hands to myself. I wasn’t going to make any promises, though. A shirtless Zarek might be too much temptation.
He smirked, and I realized I was staring like an idiot.
“You just pictured me shirtless, didn’t you?” he asked with laughter flashing in his eyes.
My cheeks flushed. “No. Of course not.”
His grin widened a little, and he shook his head, clearly not believing me.
“If you tell me what you want on your pizza, I’ll place the order while you get comfortable.”
“I knew you were anxious to get me out of my clothes.”
My whole face felt like it was on fire. Before I could embarrass myself further, I bolted from the room and went to get a drink from the kitchen. I’d made a fresh pitcher of sweet tea last night and hadn’t touched it yet. By the time I’d poured myself a glass and returned to the living room, I could hear the shower going. I set my glass down and went to change into a tank and sleep shorts. They were old and comfortable, but they showed enough skin to be considered sexy. Do I want Zarek to see me as sexy?
I’d thought we would be roommates, co-workers, and nothing more. But the more I got to know Zarek, the harder it was to resist him. I’d felt that instant spark when we’d met at work on Monday, and I had to wonder what that spark would feel like if our lips touched. Would I feel the zing all the way to my toes? Just being near him was enough to make me tingle with awareness. I thought about him in the shower and wondered if he was as sexy dripping wet as I imagined him to be. I gave myself a mental slap, changed into my pajamas, and then returned to the living room. I couldn’t order the pizza yet since Zarek hadn’t told me what he wanted on his. I hadn’t paid close attention at work when the crew had ordered enough pizza to feed a small army.
I heard the shower shut off, and a few minute later, he wandered into the room.
My tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth, and I nearly choked on my own spit as he sank onto the sofa next to me. Holy hell, he was hot as fuck! His broad chest was well-muscled and his abs … I nearly fanned myself. As I whipped around to face the TV, before I got caught staring, I absently wiped at my chin to make sure I hadn’t been drooling.
With blood-stained hands and a guilty conscience, Raylyn Beechum sets off for parts unknown, on the run from a crime she had to commit in order to save herself. When her car breaks down in the parking lot of a fire station in a small town, her plan is simple: get the car fixed and hit the road as fast as possible. Then Mr. Tall-Dark-and-Yummy saunters over with his bare chest and uniform pants, water dripping off his pecs, and all Raylyn can think is hot damn!
Oliver Gonzalez has always had a hero complex, and a damsel in distress is right up his alley. All of his protective instincts come out when he sees the blood on Raylyn’s hands and the scared look in her eyes. He might not know her story, but he knows he wants to take care of her. Getting her to trust him is easier than he’d thought possible, but he wants more than trust for him to keep her safe. He wants her to trust him with her heart.
The hands gripping the steering wheel didn’t look like mine. The skin on the knuckles was bruised and broken. Dried blood was embedded in my cuticles. I’d washed my hands, but apparently not well enough. I’d burned the clothes I’d been wearing, along with the knife I’d used. Some might say that made me guilty, and maybe it did, but I’d learned long ago that the police were of no help. Not where I came from. No matter how many times the scene replayed in my mind, I couldn’t stifle the sobs welling in my throat. I’d taken a life, killed a man. No, not a man. A monster.
My heart crashed against my ribs, and my fingers curled tighter around the steering wheel. For years I’d suffered, but I’d had no idea just how far the madness went. If I’d had a clue as to what the man was capable of, I’d have acted sooner. Maybe so many lives wouldn’t have been lost, if I’d found my courage before now. The world should thank me, but I was certain if anyone knew what I’d done, the police would arrest me, and I’d spend the rest of my life in jail. Life wasn’t fair sometimes.
I blew out a breath and tried to redirect my thoughts. Puppies. Bunnies. Fields of flowers. Anything pleasant that could wash away the bad memories. I was starting over, creating a new life. Thanks to Miguel back home, I had everything I needed. I’d planned my escape weeks ago, but it just hadn’t happened quite the way I’d pictured. My new life was going to be fantastic and full of all the things I never had before. I was going to get a job, have a nice place to live, and I was going to get a boyfriend. Not necessarily in that order. I’d covered my tracks pretty well and felt I was safe, as long as I didn’t use my real name.
My car was almost out of gas as I entered a small North Carolina town a little after six in the morning. I’d been on the road for a few hours, and my best bet would be to keep driving until I couldn’t stay awake anymore. I crept through the quiet streets of a town that reminded me of Mayberry, and as I neared a fire station on the corner, my car began to shimmy and sputter. I’d barely pulled into the parking lot before my car coasted to a stop, the engine completely silent. I banged my hands on the steering wheel and uttered a slew of curses. The gas gage mocked me as the needle rested on E.
My gaze lifted and my jaw dropped a little. The fire truck was pulled part of the way out of the bay, and shirtless, sexy hunks were washing it. That was one sure way to make me forget my problems for a little while. One of them stopped to stare, removing his sunglasses and propping them on top of his head. His dusky skin glistened with sweat in the summer heat and I felt my cheeks flush.
Mr. Sexy made his way over to me and my heart raced for a new reason. It wasn’t like I hadn’t been around hot guys before. Just not this hot. He tapped on my window and I rolled it down. He bent and placed his folded arms on the windowsill. His blue gaze was warm as it scanned me. It was several minutes before he said anything.
“Want to pop your hood?” he asked.
“I ran out of gas. If you can tell me where the closest gas station is, I can go fill up a can and I’ll get out of your way.”
His lips twitched with amusement. “Sweetheart, this car isn’t going anywhere, even if you put gas in it. That wasn’t just an ‘I’m out of gas’ rattle. It was a death rattle.”
“Death rattle?”
His gaze focused on my hands and I wanted to hide them. I swallowed hard, wondering what kind of questions he would ask, or if he’d only call the police. My hands tightened on the wheel again and I wished I could throw the car into reverse and get the hell out of town. I didn’t need trouble, and this guy could turn my world upside down, and not in a good way.
“Why don’t you come inside and we’ll get those hands cleaned up a bit?”
“I don’t want any trouble.” I couldn’t hide the tremor in my voice. Had I made my escape only to be turned in by a good Samaritan now?
He stood and opened the car door, reaching in to gently take my hand. I slid out of the car and tipped my head back to look up at him. He towered over me, making me feel small and helpless, which I hated. I was anything but helpless. He studied my hands before leading me into the fire station. One of the guys looked our way and Mr. Sexy motioned for him to follow us. Inside, I shivered at the air conditioning as he led me down a long hall to a large, open room with sofas and a kitchen area.
“Have a seat,” he said, pulling out a barstool.
I eased onto the stool, my feet dangling above the floor.
“My name’s Oliver Gonzalez, and this,” he said, motioning to the other guy, “is Jared Waylon. I’m a fireman and he’s a paramedic. Will you let him check out your hands?”
I nodded hesitantly.
Jared grasped my hands and studied them a moment before looking into my eyes. I could see the questions there, but I wasn’t saying a damn word. After a moment, he began cleaning my hands, which stung like a bitch. He even scrubbed around my nails until my hands were blood-free. He doctored my knuckles and bandaged the worst of it.
“I’m not going to ask how you got these, but if you’re in trouble, I wish you’d tell one of us.”
I trembled.
Mr. Sexy—no, Oliver—placed his hand on my shoulder. “Easy. No one here is going to hurt you. We want to help.”
“We’re going to call a tow for your car,” Jared said. “One of the firemen here has family who own a garage. They’ll give you a good deal. Then we can discuss your options for a place to stay.”
“I don’t have much money.” I hated admitting my lack of funds. “Maybe they’d let me do some work for the repairs and a place to stay?”
Oliver squeezed my shoulder. “Let’s get your car taken care of first. Anything you need out of it?”
“My purse and the bag in the backseat.”
“I’ll get them,” Jared offered. “I’ll have Kaycee call the garage and get a tow truck sent.”
“Kaycee?” I asked.
“Our admin,” Oliver said. “She’s also married to one of the guys on my team.”
“Why are you helping me?”
Kindness shone in Oliver’s eyes as he gazed into mine. “Because I think you need a friend right now. Maybe, when you feel like you can trust me, you’ll tell me about the blood on your hands and what the hell happened to you. Until then, just tell me one thing. Do we need to hide you from the police?”
Charity West is a young adult/new adult romance author who has always had her head in the clouds. She had her first crush when she was four, and it lasted for six years. Then she quickly fell head over heels for another boy, until she had to move away and leave him behind. Jumping from one boy to another, she finally found a keeper when she was twenty, and she’s been married to him ever since.
By the time Charity was twelve, she was sneaking her mother’s Harlequin romances and reading them in secret when she was supposed to be asleep. Teased throughout middle school and high school for the bodice ripper covers on the books she openly read in class, she knew that one day she wanted to write her own happily-ever-afters.
angel, arson, calendar, curvy girl, dragon shifter
romance hero, fantasy erotic romance, fate, fire hose, firebug, firefighter
hero, hot whips cafe, ice, paranormal romance, redemption, romantic suspense,
second chances, shifter, social media, westmore wolves series, winter fae
Blurb:
Where there’s smoke, there’s dragon fire.
Ordinary girl. Extraordinary fate.
Violet Winters is having a less than perfect day. Her
parents are meddling with her love life (again), her wintery magic is kaput and
her vivid dreams are coming far too close to reality. When she falls through
the ice after seeing her fiancé all close and snuggly with a fellow polar bear,
all bets are off. Is she better off dead or will she get another chance at life
when a Grimare angel rescues her from her chosen fate?
Fire meets ice and passions ignite.
Dante is a dragon on a mission: fight the string of strange
fires springing up around Westmore and find a mate. When his Captain decides to
have the men pose for social media shots to garner attention for the station,
Dante finds himself in the middle of a steady stream of women after his special
strategically placed “fire hose.”
At Hot Whips Café to haggle with the owner for counter space
for their new firemen calendar, he meets a woman who sets his inner scales on
fire. Can he save her from the machinations of the Fates or will she die a
second time by the very threat Dante fights against?
A dragon’s panty melting kiss may just be the wow this curvy
girl needs.
“Come on, Dante, show us a little leg.” The smirking
photographer circled in front of him and it was all Dante could do to control
the dragon scraping beneath his skin to avoid reaching out and shoving the
camera up his ass.
Pictures for social media. The Captain had officially lost
his fucking mind. The catcalls and male laughter from the rest of the guys made
him lose his footing and the fire hose he’d been using as a prop to conceal his
nakedness began to slip.
“Jesus. Fix that hose. This isn’t internet porn, you know.”
The Captain groused, scowling.
Dante scrambled to catch the hose and cover himself and
balanced against the newly washed and waxed fire engine, trying to pretend he
was anywhere else but standing like a prize bull at an auction.
“If you’ll hold still, please. The others have already
contributed their shots. You’re the last one.” The cameraman huffed, turning
the lens. He lowered the camera and glared at Dante. “You could smile maybe?”
Shit. He was distracted by the wacked out dream he’d had the
night before. A woman he’d never met swam in front of him, dying. Her long
black hair fanned out in the cold, dark water and he’d panicked. He’d told her
to live.
“Fine.” Dante growled, a wisp of smoke curling out from
behind his lips. He felt the change sliding beneath his skin, the dragon
agitated by his distress.
“God, Dante. Come on.” Carter laughed. “You aren’t afraid of
a little flashing light, are you?” The rest of the crew laughed, sharing in the
good natured ribbing.
“Bastard.”
He just wanted it to be over. His beast wanted to fly and
hunt and if he didn’t get out of here soon, he was going to lose his mind. Most
of the men here were either dating or married. He wasn’t and the urge to mate
had made his already bad temper even worse.
The Captain had lured him and the others in with the promise
of a social media boost to help the department. He figured a couple of pictures
for Instagram like that vet that had so many followers it was insane. Model
pretty with a gaggle of women trailing behind him like no tomorrow. The guy had
even been on national television recently. Cap was dreaming, but he also knew
the man would do anything to save their department from going strictly
volunteer.
So many in the country had gone that route and the bear
shifter was fighting it tooth and claw. Dante supported that. He’d moved from
his home in the mountains to come here after his buddy Carter had told him
about the job. Happy and with a large family of cat and dragon shifter young,
his friend would do anything to ensure things stayed status quo. So would he,
and apparently that included standing naked in front of a freshly polished
firetruck.
Thank God his mother couldn’t see him or he’d never hear the
end of it. She’d been writing him emails nonstop asking if he’d met any
promising women. Jesus. He’d never seen a woman more eager to fuss over
grandchildren. But he hadn’t and the prospects didn’t look very favorable. Not
that he hadn’t dated. He had. But no female he’d met even sparked his interest past
the typical curves and tight jeans and it wasn’t enough. Not anymore.
He wanted a mate. Someone to come home to and warm his bed
and his heart. Most of the women he’d come across only wanted one thing—to bang
a fireman and brag to their friends.
“Well, that’s about as good as I’m going to get if you’re
going to scowl like that.” The photographer capped his lens and sighed,
stalking off toward the Captain. “You can get dressed now.”
“Jerk.” Dante swiped the robe he’d worn from the floor and
shrugged into it.
“Man, you really need to learn to crack a smile, buddy.”
Carter grinned as he and a few of the others approached now that the
photographer had gone.
“Thank you, guys. Dante.” The Captain came forward giving
Dante a narrow eyed look, then nodded toward the remainder of the group. “We
should see the finished product in a day or so.”
Wait. Product?
About the author:
Erzabet Bishop is an
award winning and bestselling author who loves to write naughty stories. She is
the author of Lipstick, Crave, Snow (Three Times More Lucky Box Set),
Malediction (upcoming-A Wicked Halloween Box Set), Map of Bones (upcoming-A
Wicked Affair Box Set), Sanguine Shadows (Vampire Bites Box Set), The Science
of Lust, Wicked for You, Heart’s Protector, Burning for You, Red Hot
(upcoming), Bayou Shadows (upcoming-Nola Naughty Nine) Hedging Her Bets (Alpha
Fever Box Set), Cat’s Got Her Tongue (Alpha Heat Box Set), Arcane Imaginarium:
Spirit Board, Holidays in Hell, Mallory’s Mark (upcoming),The Devil’s Due
(upcoming), Charity Benshaw’s Enchanted Paddle Emporium (upcoming), Sigil Fire,
Glitter Lust (upcoming), Written on Skin, Club Beam, Pomegranate, A Red Dress
for Christmas, The Black Magic Café, Fantasies in Red, Sweet Seductions,
Holiday Cruise, Fetish Fair, Temptation Resorts: Jess, Temptation Resorts:
Marnie, Taming the Beast, The Erotic Pagans Series: Beltane Fires, Samhain
Shadows and Yuletide Temptation along with being a contributor to many
anthologies. She lives in Texas with her husband, furry children and can often
be found lurking in local bookstores. She loves to bake, make naughty crochet
projects and watch monster movies.
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