Friday, February 23, 2018

Vampires: More Human than Humans by S.M. Perlow




In my dark fantasy series, Vampires and the Life of Erin Rose, some characters question the nature of vampires. The potentially immortal creatures rise from their coffins only at night. They have superhuman strength and speed, and they’ll heal from almost any physical injury. They’re also beautiful and had once been human, before being turned—before craving, and needing to drink blood to live. 

So what are they? 

Villains? Those who oppress humanity, perhaps. 

Heroes? The ones who oppose the villains, sword in hand (because the surest way to kill a vampire is to take their head off with a blade), maybe.

Or are they all demons, inhuman things best cast back into whatever pit their kind emerged from in the first place?

The answer, of course, is up to the reader. And whatever position one takes on those points of view, I’ll argue for a fourth: in many ways, vampires are even more human than everyday people.

A person might live eighty years or a hundred. Choices and their consequences will brighten or weigh on their lifetime. But that lifetime ends in relatively short order. And while that limited lifetime heightens the importance of a human’s decisions, a vampire’s unlimited lifetime raises the importance of their decisions in a different way. A vampire might live hundreds of years, thousands, or forever. Their choices and whatever outcomes, good or bad, stay with them the entire time. Vampires generally face the same dilemmas as humans, but with forever before them, can have more at stake in their choices.

Most people seek companionship—a husband, wife, partner, or close friends. Human connection in some form is important to them. For vampires who feed off mortals’ blood, human connection is vital. Put another way, people might yearn for connection, while vampires would die without it.

My vampires do have superhuman strength and speed. Yet those are human abilities, simply taken to an extreme. Likewise, that my vampires will heal from almost any injury is an extreme. People heal, just not like vampires. A dying person finds finality to whatever joy greeted them each waking morning, along with an end to their sorrows. But vampires? Whatever the world throws at them, as long as vampires find blood to drink, they’ll bounce back, ready to take on the world anew, whatever happiness or sadness their nights are full of.

So vampires are not exactly the same as humans, but in some of the most fundamental ways, they’re even more human than humans.

Vampires live longer, they need human connection, and their yearning for it can far outlast a single human lifetime. Whatever choices vampires make, for better or worse, can echo for an eternity, with the vampire around to hear it. 

Those deeply human vampires are the ones I write about, because those are the vampires I love reading, watching on screen, and imagining. My new novel, Choosing a Master, is set in a world with those vampires. I hope you enjoy reading it.




Choosing a Master 
Vampires and the Life of Erin Rose 
Book 1
S.M. Perlow 

“Like the blood of God…” 

In New Orleans, a passage from a Renaissance-era book is Ethan’s only hope to save the woman he loves. He’s a vampire, so he can live forever. Ellie, however, is mortal, ill, and running out of time.

“If Sanguan vampires drank synthetic blood, like Spectavi vampires, the world would be so much safer for humans.”

In the Spectavi laboratory where synthetic blood was created, Vera is making no progress with her current projects. But for her devotion to the Spectavi cause—and their leader—she will go to any lengths.

“She would hold me when she bites, and at least while she sips my blood, I wouldn’t be alone.”

In a nightclub in France, John has an unusual encounter with a gorgeous vampire, but his love for a mortal woman forces him into a devastating choice.

Reason or passion, good or evil, duty, love, or pure pleasure—in a world with two vampire factions at war, choosing the right master is everything.


Thursday, February 22, 2018

Interview - Release Day Blitz The Unlikeable Demon Hunter: Crave by Deborah Wilde


What inspired your story?

When I started writing The Unlikeable Demon Hunter, I was really frustrated with the double standard that I saw applied to even fictional females around sexuality and “likeability” and I wanted to explore that. 

There is also a lot of Jewish history and mythology that comes into play (Brotherhood of David, go figure) and Nava was my way of dealing with misogyny I’d faced in my religion. 
Basically, it’s sexytimes and kickass through a lens of gender politics wrapped in a lot of snark.

Is the setting to your story important?

Hugely. This series is predominantly set in my hometown of Vancouver, BC, though it does go to some other cities. 

I always joke that if aliens invade, New York, London, and Hong Kong are screwed, but Canada is fine. 

I wanted to juxtapose how demons and this secret demon hunting society could fit in against the back drop of a pretty Canadian city.

Did you always want to be a writer? If not what did you want to be?

It never occurred to me growing up that writer was a job that regular people could have. I’m not sure if I thought they were magical beings or what, but even though I can’t remember a time when I wasn’t writing, it seriously never crossed my mind that I could do this as an actual career.

 I wanted to be an architect for a long time or work with a woman’s organization through the UN.  

When did you first consider yourself a “writer”?

My first writing gig was as a screenwriter, so probably when I signed that first contract for actual paid episodes.

What were your goals as an author and have any of them come true?

I guess making a living as an author, which I do. Not so much a goal, but I’ll tell you a cool author moment I had. 

I went to my first RWA last year and participated in the author signing. I was praying I’d sell one book because there were hundreds of authors in this ballroom with dozens of super impressive names. 

I’d brought these mini Coffee Crisp chocolate bars and was offering people “an exotic Canadian delicacy” which I swear was helping me move books. 

This woman comes by and slaps down a laminated cover of The Unlikeable Demon Hunter. I thought this was some official RWA thing, but no. She and a friend come to these signings and choose one author to support and I was it. 

Then on top of that these three young women came by to show me how they had a list of ten authors they’d come here to buy from and meet and that I was on the list. 

I’m usually just sitting in my office in Canada, bathed in the glow of my screen, hoping I’m not just entertaining myself, and here were actual humans excited to meet me. 

It was crazy and humbling and fantastic. 

What genres do you normally write in?

When I look back over my entire writing career, including my screenwriting, and YA work (written under the name Tellulah Darling), I’ve always written urban fantasy and I’ve always written romantic comedy. They’re just getting more and more closely intertwined.

What was the first book you ever published?

It was actually one of my YA titles called Sam Cruz’s Infallible Guide to Getting Girls. It seemed to really polarize people – some thought the sex and the language were realistic to teens and others called me and my characters “morally depraved.” :P

Thanks so much for having me!

The Unlikeable Demon Hunter: Crave
Nava Katz
Book Four
Deborah Wilde

Genre: urban fantasy / romance

Publisher: Te Da Media

Date of Publication: February 20, 2018

ISBN: 978-1-988681-10-8
ASIN:  B0784674R3

Number of pages: 438
Word Count: 92,500

Cover Artist: Damonza

Tagline: Meet Nava Katz. Punches like a girl. Kicks demon butt.

Book Description:

What doesn’t kill you... seriously messes with your love life.

Nava is happily settling into her new relationship and life is all giddy joy and stolen kisses.

Except when it’s assassins. Talk about a mood killer.

She and Rohan are tracking the unlikely partnership between the Brotherhood and a witch who can bind demons, but every new piece of the puzzle is leaving them with more questions than answers.

And someone doesn’t appreciate them getting close to the truth.

Go figure.

On top of that, a demon known only as Candyman has unleashed a drug that’s harming users in extremely disturbing ways.

After a friend of Nava’s is hurt, she vows to take this demon down. But will life as she knows it survive this mission, or will this be the one time she should have looked before she leapt?

Happily-ever-after: barring death, she’s got a real shot at it.


On Sale up to 60% Until Midnight Feb 26

Excerpt:
“I love home delivery.” Malik lounged in his doorway, eyeing me the way the wolf must have with the three little pigs. His British accent was pure sin.
“I love your arrogance that you didn’t bother moving after I almost killed you.”
He laughed, flashing straight white teeth against his bronze skin. He was still the only being I’d ever met who could pull off a Caesar cut, and was still the stuff of billionaire romance cover fantasies in his soft gray trousers that were artfully tailored to the hard lines of his body and navy shirt, carelessly folded back at the cuffs. “Oh, petal. I’d say I missed you, but I didn’t. Now, unless you brought the more interesting twin?” He peered into the hallway. “No?”
He shut the door, but I stuffed my foot in to block it. Not like he politely stopped trying to close it. “Ow.” I pushed my shoulder into the door to keep my poor bones from breaking. “If you weren’t wondering why I was here, you wouldn’t have let security buzz me up or let my toes cross the wards I’m sure you’ve got strung across this door.”
“Ten seconds.”
“That’s not–”
“Five, four…”
“Demons are being bound.” I rushed my words as he made a buzzing noise.
Malik yanked me inside by my collar and slammed the door.
I wrenched free.
His penthouse apartment hadn’t changed. Still to-die-for sweeping views of the city, a massive glass wine storage unit in the open concept space, and a loft bedroom. He pointed at one of the leather sofas, custom made to hug the curved walls. “Sit and talk.”



About the Author:

A global wanderer, hopeless romantic, and total cynic with a broken edit button, Deborah writes urban fantasy to satisfy her love of smexy romances and tales of chicks who kick ass. This award-winning author is all about the happily-ever-after, with a huge dose of hilarity along the way.







Tuesday, February 20, 2018

Guest Blog - The Nightmare Room by Chris Sorensen



      PEELING BACK THE VEIL     
Chris Sorensen

When I was in kindergarten, I saw my first ghost.

I was lying awake in bed when a misty figure walked past me and approached my younger brother’s crib before disappearing.

Was I actually visited by a spirit? Your guess is as good as mine. Do I remember the incident clearly? Oh, yes. And the fact that I do is my strongest argument for why I write supernatural fiction.

We all have moments in our life that we can’t explain. When we try, we as often as not muck it up. “You’ll never believe what happened. This morning, I woke up behind myself. Outside my own body.” I have yet to tell that story without some trepidation. But write it into a story, and I can examine it more fully. Peel back the veil and look at it head on.

If we could see the moments that make up our lives strung together like beads, we’d find a handful that would stand out from the others. A door closing by itself. The sound of music drifting down the hall. The smell of roses in an otherwise empty room. Imagined or not, these moments are part of our lives.

I like watching a character fumble about on the page as they come face to face with the supernatural. There’s a dangerous quality to it, both spiritually and emotionally, and all bets are off. It snips the string, letting the beads scatter. It’s chaos and it’s exciting and it’s interesting as hell to write.

And best of all, it’s the truth.

So the next time your phone lights up and a dead relative’s number pops up on the caller ID, I’d answer. You never know what they might have to say.

The Nightmare Room
The Messy Man Series
Book One
Chris Sorensen
         
Genre: Paranormal Fiction

Publisher: Harmful Monkey Press

Date of Publication: 1/25/2018

ISBN: 978-0998342412
ASIN: B07943P5S8

Number of pages: 273
Word Count: 45,000

Tagline: The past is always present in the Nightmare Room.

Book Description:

A boy in a basement, a man in a booth and a darkness that threatens to swallow them both...

New York audiobook narrator Peter Larson and his wife Hannah head to his hometown of Maple City to help Peter's ailing father and to put a recent tragedy behind them. Though the small, Midwestern town seems the idyllic place to start afresh, Peter and Hannah will soon learn that evil currents flow beneath its surface.

They move into an old farmhouse on the outskirts of town—a house purchased by Peter's father at auction and kept secret until now—and start to settle into their new life.

But as Peter sets up his recording studio in a small basement room, disturbing things begin to occur—mysterious voices haunt audio tracks, malevolent shadows creep about the house. And when an insidious presence emerges from the woodwork, Peter must face old demons in order to save his family and himself.


Excerpt:
The man threw open the basement door. A rush of mildewed air rose up from the darkness, like the hideous breath of some subterranean thing. He flicked on the light, and the cascade of descending stairs came into view. Among their number was the treacherous one midway down, the one that bent like a bow at the slightest weight.
“Are you going down on your own or do I have to make you?”
The boy looked up at his father. The anger that had fueled him thus far was fading, seemingly sapped by the trip from the boy’s bedroom. Instead, his father looked pained. If he didn’t know better, he might think the Old Man was about to cry. But his father had said he was tired. Dead tired. And perhaps it was as simple as that.
"I'll go," the boy whispered, and he took the first tentative step down.
The change in temperature was immediate; it was like diving into a cold pool. He took another step down, and another.
He paused on the third step and looked back at his father. The bare bulb above paled the man’s countenance. The grey circles under his eyes made him look like he’d been bludgeoned.
“Git!” the Old Man snarled. The boy went. When he reached the sagging step, he stopped, took a breath and leaped over it. His heel hit the lip of the next step, but the wood was damp, and the boy came down hard on his butt.
“Get some sleep. And no more dreams.”
As if he could help it.
His father closed the door, and the lock clicked. It would not open again until morning.
The boy descended the final few stairs and stepped onto the floor. Ice-cold cement sucked heat from his soles. He squinted, trying to adjust to the dark.
The usefulness of the light bulb ended a few feet into the basement. And there was no more source of light until he reached the…
The gears in his head ground to a halt, stopping short of allowing the dreaded name to be uttered.
He started picking out objects around him. The solemn metal face of the furnace, a stack of water softener salt bags, the frame of an old bicycle.
Straight ahead lay a distance of twenty or so feet before he'd come to a door. Three-quarters of that stretch was in pitch black. To get to the door, to get to the room, he had to dash through the darkness until his hand found the doorknob. Then, he would throw the door open, reach to his right, flip the wall switch and presto. An island of light in an ocean of black.
He girded himself for the sprint.
“One…two…”
He hesitated…but why? He’d already made this run two times this week. Both Monday and Thursday, he’d awakened screaming, bringing down the Old Man’s wrath, and sending him here. To the penalty box. To time out. To the Night—
“Three!”
The boy startled at the sound of his own voice, and he lurched into motion. He hurtled into the darkness, his feet slapping the floor, echoing off the walls in hollow applause.
He bumped into something and spun, temporarily throwing himself and his inner compass off balance. He skidded across the floor and came to a stop.
Heart pounding in his chest, he quickly located the lit stairs off to his left. He made a rapid calculation and turned to face the invisible pathway to the room. He bolted, coming to a halt only when he slammed head-on into the door.
His hand floundered before finding the knob. He launched into his practiced routine. Open door, flip switch, step inside.
In seconds, the boy slipped into the room and slammed the door shut. A pink light overhead bathed him in imaginary warmth—he had made it.
He stepped back and sank into the waiting beanbag chair, facing the door. The small room with its mint green walls and rollaway bed felt almost welcoming, an odd feeling for a place that was meant as a punishment.
The boy pulled a quilt from the bed and wrapped it around him tight. For the first time in his life, he felt safe here in this room—in the Nightmare Room.
Because he hadn’t bumped into something out there in the dark. He had bumped into someone.
He was almost certain of it.
He kept one eye on the door as the minutes hummed past on the illuminated clock on the nightstand. He busied himself with crayon and paper, doodling to keep his mind quiet. Soon, his vision began to flutter; the room began to strobe. And, in the space between two breaths, the boy sank into his beanbag chair and fell into a fitful sleep.
The doorknob twitched.
The boy bolted upright. He pressed back into the chair. His whole body started shivering, and he feared he would wet himself for the second time that night.
A thought…no, a voice crept into his head.
Coming in.
The door quivered as if someone was leaning against it, trying to stifle a laugh. Nails scratched against the wood.
“Dad?” the boy whispered.
The door shuddered.
“Is that you?” Knowing it was not.
Coming…
“Please don’t.”
Coming…
“No.”
Coming…
“No!”
In.





About the Author:

Chris Sorensen spends many days and nights locked away inside his own nightmare room. He is the narrator of over 200 audiobooks (including the award-winning The Missing series by Margaret Peterson Haddix) and the recipient of three AudioFile Earphone Awards. Over the past fifteen years, the Butte Theater and Thin Air Theatre Company in Cripple Creek, Colorado have produced dozens of his plays including Dr. Jekyll’s Medicine Show, Werewolves of Poverty Gulch and The Vampire of Cripple Creek. He is the author of the middle grade book The Mad Scientists of New Jersey and has written numerous screenplay including Suckerville, Bee Tornado and The Roswell Project.



Mailing List Sign Up: http://www.casorensen.com/



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Monday, February 19, 2018

Soul Thing by Lana Pecherczyk



Soul Thing
The Game of Gods
Book One
Lana Pecherczyk

Genre: Urban Fantasy

Publisher: Prism Press

Date of Publication: 20th February 2018

ASIN: B079FM8BF3

Number of pages: 379
Word Count: 101,989

Cover Artist: Lana Pecherczyk

Tagline: Evolution is the Game, Witches are the Glitch

Book Description:

After a decade long war, witches have been obliterated, or so the world thinks. A precarious peace settles and, for the small town of Margaret River, life returns to normal, but for Roo, the hard work is just beginning.

Roo works at the local bar, is a little facetious and can’t wait to high-tail it out of there to keep her powers secret. She’s not certain where they came from but the last thing she wants is to be burned at the stake. Hiding in plain sight seems to work until Cash, a darkly handsome hunter, arrives with disaster in his wake. Witches aren’t defeated, only hidden, and there’s one gunning for Roo and her family. The recent war only touched the surface of the preternatural world and with Cash’s help, Roo learns there are worse things that go bump in the night... and she might be one of them.

Soon she must make a choice—risk exposure to save her loved ones, or remain hidden and safe. But sometimes safe isn’t an option. Sometimes safe is a never-ending game.



Excerpt # 1 (1126 Words) from Chapter 1

Sooner or later I had to stop feeling guilty about killing my mother. I had no memory of it, and I was a baby when it happened. As if I could control it. It was time I started thinking of myself.
Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee, I thought as I curled my fingers into fists and punched the air. Now or never. I rounded the corner to the kitchen and planted my feet squarely in front of Aunt Lucy. “I’m moving out,” I blurted.
Aunt Lucy turned, eyes blinking. She wore colorless clothing to match her gray hair, and never used makeup. The only inspiring thing about her appearance was her glass bauble necklace. She pulled her arms out of the sudsy sink and tapped her gloved fingers on the porcelain bowl. The action sent baubles clinking and a tiny waft of lavender perfume floating my way. Deliberately, slowly, she removed her second skin, one finger at a time and then dabbed her hands with a tea towel. Despite her careful charade, thoughts collided behind her steely gaze.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” she said through gritted teeth.
I took a step back and darted a glance at my sister, Leila, as she sat at the grand table reading the newspaper. The ghost of a smile danced across her delicate features but she covered it with a sip of coffee, then turned the page, pointing to an article in an evasive gesture. “Oh, look at this one,” she said.
Ignoring her, I held up my key. “I’m not being ridiculous. Kitty’s leasing her apartment and I can move as soon as my probation is over. I’m half packed.”
Leila spat coffee everywhere and then grimaced at her accident. She slammed her mug down. “Now, look what you’ve made me do. I wish I had a normal sister.”
I snatched a towel from the rack and mopped up her mess. “Yeah, well I wish my sister didn’t hate my guts for something I can’t control—”
“Uh, uh. We’re not going there.” Aunt Lucy cut me off, raised a finger, and then turned her back on me to help Leila dry her precious clippings. “What did you find today, sweet-heart?”
My jaw dropped. I’d given her monumental news, and she’d turned her back on me.
“Look at this one.” Leila tapped an article. “The Church is recalling their latest safeguard against witch possession. Apparently, there was a faulty part in the device or something. It would be nice for them to get one invention right, don’t you think? And this one, see?” She held up another clipping. “The DNA test used to identify maleficent victims isn’t accurate because there haven’t been enough cases of possession over the last four years to benchmark—you know, since the Purge.”
“Tsk, tsk, such a shame.” Aunt Lucy rubbed Leila’s shoulder affectionately. “Never mind, sweet, it could be a good thing. Only a few possessions in four years isn’t bad. But just in case, we’ll continue to go to church like they told us. It’s worked so far, right? We’ve never seen a witch in town.”
Leila hummed in agreement.
I scowled at them. A woman moving out of home was not to be taken lightly. Witches attacked females—it had something to do with our higher estrogen levels—but like Leila said, since they’d burned half the female population in the Purge, there were few cases of possession. The world had relaxed and being a woman wasn’t so bad anymore.
I waved the key in the air. “Um hello? Did you hear what I said? I’m moving out.”
“You stubborn girl.” Aunt Lucy shook her head at me. “You’ll be labeled a whore, just like your friend. I should never let you have that job at that devil’s playground. It’s caused nothing but problems.” She pulled off her headband and threw it on the counter, releasing her gray hair from its captivity.
Did she just call Kitty a whore? Hang on—did she called me a whore?
“After all, I’ve done for you,” she continued. “I housed you when your father abandoned you, I put up with your criminal ways, I even let you get a job when there’s so much to do here at the vineyard. You’re going to throw it all in my face and leave a week before the food festival.” The tenacity of her words caused a coughing fit, she wheezed and spluttered into a quickly grasped tissue. The sour stench of smoker’s breath hit me moments before her pungent lavender perfume. I flinched and tried not to screw up my face. The bad-girl smoker habit was such a contrast to her drab, gray attire. Seriously, brush your teeth.
With shaky hands, she reached for a glass of water and took a sip. Aunt Lucy ran her boutique vineyard estate with an iron fist, but quit smoking? Impossible. She downed the water in gulps and held up a finger indicating the conversation wasn’t over. When she finished, she busied herself with drying the dishes. The muscles in her shoulders and neck grew rigid as she mulled over her next words. Finally, she picked up a spoon, and waved it at me. “That sin-bin you work at is just a lawsuit waiting to happen.” She opened the cutlery drawer and slammed the spoon in place. “I can’t believe it was allowed to open in the first place.”
Leila snorted in sympathy.
In an effort not to roll my eyes, I stared at the sparkling black and white checked floor. There she goes again, spouting her devil nonsense.
“The Cauldron,” I said, “is not a ‘sin-bin’ or a ‘devil’s playground.’ It’s a legitimate establishment where people can enjoy a drink or a meal, and learn about the history of witches.”
Leila laughed. “You can’t be serious, Roo. It’s a mockery; they poke fun at the myth, not teach the reality.” Her last words came through a clenched jaw and she shuddered.
It was true. The Cauldron was a clich├ęd, witch-themed bar. It resembled something from Halloween, and served cocktails like ‘The Holy Grail’ and ‘Brew to Forget.’ Taxidermy crows peered down at you as you ate, but it was harmless fun. And I felt at home there.

I shrugged. “If it makes people feel safe and confident they have one up on witches, who cares? I get paid, and all I have to do is serve drinks and look pretty with this thing hanging around my neck.” I flicked my slick UV-liquid filled probation collar. It made me special. “I’m accepted for who I am. Besides, it’s coming off in a few weeks and I’ll be free to do what I want. Everyone with opinions can bite me.”

About the Author:

Lana Pecherczyk is a freckle-faced writer from Perth, Western Australia. She’s a fan of 'pro-caffeinating' and writes in Urban Fantasy and Paranormal Romance. Basically if it’s got sexy heroes, thrilling action and a kick-ass heroine, you know she’ll write it because she loves reading it.

When she’s not writing the next great novel, or wrangling the rug rats, or rescuing GI Joe from the jaws of her Kelpie, she fights evil by moonlight, wins love by daylight and never runs from a real fight.

You can find her books on Amazon and other good online retailers.






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Wednesday, February 14, 2018

Valentine’s Day Interview with the Witches from Paranormal Pleasures: Ten Tales of Supernatural Seduction

We have a special Valentine’s Day interview with a few of the witches from the erotic short story collection Paranormal Pleasures: Ten Tales of Supernatural Seduction.

I’ll start with Marissa from “A Last Goodbye”. Marissa is new to the supernatural world, being a late bloomer with her magic but her trainer, Deirdre, who happens to be a vampire, is showing her the ropes and helping her acclimate quite well.

RR: So Marissa how are you celebrating Valentine’s Day this year, is Deirdre very romantic?

Marissa: Deirdre is quite the romantic though don’t tell her I said that, it would ruin her ice queen image. I’m not sure what she has planned but I know she’s up to something, she’s had a twinkle in her eye and that always means she’s in planning mode.

RR: Has she done grand romantic gestures before?

Marissa: Not any extremely grand gestures, she’s more of an everyday romantic- a rose on my pillow, a new book of spells on my desk…she always does something sweet for me.

RR: That is precious. I think it’s so important to have those little everyday reminders of love they keep the romance alive.

Marissa: Oh yes, it definitely does. And with our crazy lifestyles and supernatural drama…it can be hard to think about the mundane stuff.

RR: Vampires, witches and their drama…

Marissa: You know it.

As Marissa giggles thinking about her new life full of vampires I turn to Ariadne from “Witch in the Middle”. Ariadne has not one but two gorgeous men in her life. Such a greedy witch J

RR: Hi Ariadne, how are you celebrating Valentine’s Day this year? Anything special planned? Will you celebrate with both of your men?

Ariadne: I’m not sure what I will be doing for Valentine’s Day this year.

RR: Why not?

Ariadne: The whole “who to be with” issue, and choosing which guy to celebrate with is such a headache.

RR: Why not be with them both?


Ariadne: And risk the dirty looks, the questioning looks…or even worse the guys getting into it in the middle of a romantic dinner and embarrassing me? No thank you.

RR: So they’re still having issues with each other?

Ariadne: Men are so territorial, jealousy is always an issue. They are always trying to one up each other or be the better man. Sometimes I wonder if I should just choose and be done with it.

RR: I’m sorry to hear that, I was really hoping the three of you had worked things out.

Ariadne: Perhaps they’ll get over the pettiness so I can have a HappyValentine’s Day. I would really love to be with both of them and have a good time.

RR: Well there you go, just tell them you want to go out and have fun without their egos getting in the way.

Ariadne: Thanks, Rox I will do that. Now I just have to figure out what to wear.

RR: Maybe you should go chat with Marissa and Deirdre I hear Deirdre has closets full of amazing clothes.

Ariadne: Thanks, I’ll do that.

Ariadne wanders off to find Marissa and I turn to Elita from “The Questioning Concubine”.
 
RR: Hello Elita, glad you could join us today. How are things going with the investigation?

Elita: Thanks to Connor I’m finally making some headway with the case. I’m closer than ever to finding out who killed my parents.

RR: That’s great news. Are you taking any time off to celebrate Valentine’s Day?

Elita: Oh yes *she smiles coyly*. We will definitely be celebrating Valentine’s day.

RR: Do you and Connor have anything planned?

Elita: A wicked little grin creeps across her pretty features…I do. I want to surprise him with a very romantic and sexy evening.

RR: Really? How do give an incubus a romantic surprise? I mean, after all he is all about the sex.

Elita: That’s just it, he is used to doling out the pleasure and being the means to an end. I want to give him pleasure, treat him like he has treated me. I want to return the affection. I don’t think he’s used to being on the receiving end of love.

RR: So you plan to turn things upside down for your pleasure demon?

Elita: Oh yes *again with that wicked grin*. I wanted to ask her more but I didn’t want to get into the TMI area plus I wouldn’t want to ruin the surprise for  Connor, who knows maybe there’s a future story in the works featuring Elita and Connor’s Valentine’s pleasurefest.

RR: Good luck with that. I hope it turns out to be a spectacular night for the tow of you.

Elita: Oh it will it’s going to be so amazing and so damn hot…
*she blushes as she realizes she’s getting a little carried away*

RR: I clear my throat thanks for joining me for this little interview, I hope all of your Valentine fantasies turn out to be fabulous.

Elita: Thanks Rox I’m sure they will.

Elita wanders off and I turn to the witch that’s left, Vicki from “Witching You A Merry Christmas”.

RR: So Vicki, You and Daniel ended up having a very wonderful Christmas last year, will you be celebrating Valentine’s Day together as well?

Vicki: She gives me a shy smile Yes, we’ll be together for Valentine’s and for the rest of the holidays.

RR: Wonderful. So any plans?

Vicki: I think Daniel has something up his sleeve. He is such a sweet and charming romantic.

RR: What kind of romantic is he, hearts and flowers or something deeper?

Vicki: Oh a little of both. He does the hearts and flowers and chocolates but he always adds something deeply personal- like finding a first edition copy of my favorite book signed by the author. Or hunting down my grandmother’s locket which had been pawned years ago when my mother needed money.

RR: Wow. He puts his detective skills to work for romance huh?

Vicki: She laughs Oh yes. He is very good at tracking things down, and he’s such a good listener. Sometimes I think he knows me better than I know myself.

RR: I know he loves Christmas and goes all out with the decorations, is he the same way for Valentine’s day?

Vicki: He loves to celebrate…anything. He has an entire room filled with decorations for every holiday.

RR: So that’s a yes? I laugh.

Vicki: Most definitely.

RR: Well thank you for joining me today, thanks to all the witches that took the time to stop by and answer my questions.

To learn more about these characters check out Paranormal Pleasures Ten Tales of Supernatural Seduction.

Roxanne Rhoads
Publisher: Bewitching Books
Genre: Paranormal erotica
ISBN: 0615470386 / 9780615470382
Page Count: 138

Book description:

Ten tantalizing, erotic tales of vampires, witches and demons grace the pages of this short story collection by Roxanne Rhoads.

Step into the darkness and let these tales tempt and tease to satisfy your paranormal cravings.

Eight of Roxanne Rhoads' previous eBook publications appear in print for the first time, along with two brand new, never before published tales of supernatural love and lust.

Extended Description

A Last Goodbye

New witch Marissa is learning the ropes of being one of The Others. One of her mentors is vampire Deirdre, a tall beauty who really irritates Marissa. Marissa is extremely pissed when she shows up to Dante's Ball and finds Deirdre there with Marissa's recent ex-boyfriend, Jeff. The one she was encouraged to break up with because of his humanity. Deirdre explains her reasons for bringing Jeff and offers to help Marissa say goodbye to him in a way none of them will ever forget

Overkill

Vanessa is tired of her boyfriend Simon’s promiscuous vampire ways and stakes him, repeatedly- not close enough to the heart to kill him but close enough to make it hurt. But now she’s had a change of heart and considers embracing the sexual world of the vampire instead of being jealous of it.

Witch in the Middle

Ariadne is a witch torn between two men, a vampire and a human. Her heart doesn’t want to choose but the men force her to make a decision that could break her heart, unless with the help of the Goddess all three of them can come to a mutually acceptable…and enjoyable agreement.

When It Storms

Devon’s witchy girlfriend becomes insatiable every time a storm rolls around and he’s more than happy to give her exactly what she needs.

Monster Inside

Shannon’s never seen her vampire boyfriend, Logan, vamp out before. Then one night he has to kill to save her life. Can she ever look at him the same way again?

The Questioning Concubine

Elita, a pure blood witch, has come home to find who or what killed her parents and to take her rightful place as the head of the coven. After five years of investigating and exhausting all conventional methods at her disposal, she decides to do the one thing a good witch should never do—summon a demon. The demon is not what she expected. Elita is soon swept up in his power… and her own.

Renata

The residents of the sleepy little town of Flushing, Michigan had no idea a vampire lived among them, seducing and drinking from all the men in town. Renata walked among them, blending in, taking only what she needed. One night, while she was on the prowl for fresh blood at a carnival, a handsome carnie caught her eye. She had no way of knowing he was a vampire hunter and was there for her.

Sea of Blood

Liana made Nerissa a vampire centuries ago in the islands of Greece but she’s never tired of her companion or the way she hunts her prey.

A Halloween to Remember

What says Halloween better than a wild party at an old Victorian mansion complete with its own cemetery? Perhaps meeting the man of your dreams thanks to the magic of Halloween.

Adena can’t believe her eyes when she spots Dimitri in the library- he looks like something straight off the cover of a historical romance novel-the type of guy she’s always dreamed of. Too bad he disappears before she has the chance to introduce herself. When she finally spots him again later that night she decides she’s not letting him get away again. Adena thinks she’s finally found the one. Until she wakes up alone the next morning- in the cemetery.

Halloween magic brought them together but will it be strong enough to keep them together?

Witching You A Merry Christmas

Witch Vicki has been leery of vampires ever since she was attacked five years ago. Daniel's a vampire and he's been secretly in love in with Vicki for two years ever since becoming Vicki's partner in The Guardians a supernatural group of paranormal crime fighters. Daniel loves Christmas and hopes the spirit of the holidays will soften Vicki's hatred of vampires and help her see him in a new light. Will he get his Christmas wish?


 
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