Tuesday, March 10, 2020

Cover reveal for Peggy Jaeger - Vanilla With a Twist

Cover reveal from Peggy Jaeger

I'm happy to be able to show off Peggy's cover for her new book: Vanilla with a Twist part of The Wild Rose Press One Scoop or Two series.





Blurb:

Tandy Blakemore spends her days running her New England ice cream parlor, single-parenting her teenage son, and trying to keep her head above financial water. No easy feat when the shop's machinery is aging and her son is thinking about college. Tandy hasn't had a day off in a decade and wonders if she'll ever be able to live a worry-free life.

Engineer Deacon Withers is on an enforced vacation in the tiny seaside town of Beacher's Cove. Overworked, stressed, and lonely, he walks into Tandy's shop for a midday ice cream cone and gets embroiled in helping her fix a broken piece of equipment.

Can the budding friendship that follows lead to something everlasting?

Watch for this book and others start in Summer of 2020




Monday, February 24, 2020

Guest Post: My Past, Your Future by Gabbi Grey

Today I'm welcoming Gabbi Grey and her debut novel: My Past, Your Future which is part of the Deerbourne Inn series from The Wild Rose Press.

Welcome Gabbi



Tell us a little about yourself:

I live in beautiful British Columbia on a mountain, surrounded by trees, racoons, deer, and other woodland creatures.  My fur baby chinpoo Ally is my constant companion, barking at those nasty bears. I work for government by day, and by night crafts stories where my characters get happy endings.  I write contemporary, gay, sweet, and dark erotic BDSM romances. I firmly believe in making my characters suffer before finding their true love.

What do like the most and the least about writing?

Writing is easy, editing is brutal.  Words often flow freely, filling up that blank page easily.  I can take criticism and feedback just fine, but if I face another comma splice, or dangling modifier, I’ll scream.


Give us a peek into your latest published work:

A Civil War ghost, a history professor, and the magic of the Winter Solstice…

Callum MacLaren, a professor from Scotland, visits Willow Springs, Vermont during the Winter Solstice to study and explore the rich history of St. Joseph's Cemetery. His encounter with a sexy soldier in a tattered Civil War uniform is a captivating puzzle, and the more he learns, the deeper his attraction.

A hundred and fifty years ago, Elijah Freeman was killed during the Second Battle of Fort Wagner and woke up in Willow Springs, the only home he'd known. Alone, he roams the town, unable to leave or interact with a single soul until an intriguing Scot addresses him. Even stranger, the man can see him, hear him, and touch him--a sizzling caress that leaves Elijah aching for more.

But will Elijah return to his ghostly form when the magic of the solstice fades, or is Callum's love enough to keep him in the land of the living?


What’s next on the writing horizon for you?

I’ve written a novella for the One Scoop or Two call for The Wild Rose Press, and I have a dark erotic BDSM novel coming out with them later in the year.


Is there anything you want to tell readers?

I’m versatile and write across a number of subgenres in romance including gay, dark erotic BDSM, sweet, and contemporary.  I’ve also got stories that include paranormal and historical elements.  I’m okay with taking risks and stepping out of my comfort zone. I provide emotionally satisfying happy endings because I create deep connections with my characters, and they become like friends to me. These characters are ordinary people, in ordinary places, finding themselves facing extraordinary circumstances.


Excerpt:

Was a graveyard female or male? The place could be an it, but assigning a gender felt more appropriate. That somehow humanized something most people avoided at all costs but that he loved almost as much as life itself. There was something about walking about the graves, reading dedications and plaques, that always gave him a sense of life. The inhabitants might be dead, but their spirits lived on, and if he was lucky, would offer their stories and share their lives.

Mindful of the flashlight, he clapped his hands, trying to get some circulation back. It was damn cold, and now that night had fallen, the temperature was dropping precipitously. At least he’d worn a parka, thick socks, sturdy boots, and a wool cap.

He’d accomplished enough for the day. Better to make an early start tomorrow morning. Calculating the shortest trajectory, he headed to the exit but only made it a dozen steps before coming up short.

A figure loomed in front of him, not thirty feet away. Since he’d believed himself alone, this was an unexpected turn. He used the flashlight to examine the solitary person, mindful of not shining the light in the person’s eyes. His eyes? Yes, most likely a man. Shorter in stature than himself, and on the average side. The man leaned against a grave and glared indolently. Both Callum’s torch and the light of the moon illuminated him. Weren’t they due for a full moon on the solstice in two days?

“Hello.” Nothing to be lost by being friendly.

The man didn’t move, just continued to stare.
















Monday, February 17, 2020

Guest Post: A Matter of Manners by Terry Graham

I'm pleased to have Terry Graham on my blog to day talking about her latest book.






Tell us a little about yourself:

I grew up in the Adirondack mountains, in a tiny town of about 200 residents. The third child of six total, I was always a bit of a loner and would lose myself in books as often as not. My mom was a nurse, and my dad an outside electrician, and both came from large families, so education was considered important. Luckily, I was gifted with a healthy amount of intelligence and enjoyed school. My dad spent large amounts of time laid off, so I wanted a stable profession and became a chemist. I did that for twenty years, then went into IT until I retired three years ago.

What do like the most and the least about writing? 

I love the rush I get when I write a scene that works, especially the sex scenes, and the endorphins that are created. I’d say it’s better than actual sex, but that would only be true if I specified ‘bad sex’. I hate the marketing, mostly because I’m not a social person and so much of it revolves around engaging with strangers, but also because it takes away from the time I could use to write. 


Give us a peek into your latest published work? 

In A Matter of Manners, Jeremy Wyles is a duke who believes himself sterile. He's also a sadist and fears no lady would agree to marry him. When a woman shows up on his doorstep, pregnant and claiming to be his wife, he glimpses a chance to have the family he’s always wanted. A loveless marriage in name only seems the perfect solution, except for two problems – the lady resists the idea and he’s not sure he can resist his wicked urges.

Irish rebel Kathleen "Katy" Brennan only seeks recompense from the husband whose cousin married her by proxy and left her with child. She has no knowledge of how to be a duchess and her rebel past has a rather traitorous secret. Submitting to the duke jeopardizes all she holds dear but resisting proves equally daunting. The duke offers everything she’s ever wanted, except for a real marriage.

Can Jeremy and Katy trust each other and open their hearts or will the sins of the past destroy all hope of redemption?

What’s next on the writing horizon for you?

I’m currently working on a rewrite of the first story I ever wrote. It’s the first in a Scottish Highlander series I call Tartan Threads. Set in the seventeenth century, the series is considerably less steamy than my Shades of Sin series and revolves around a laird and his closest friends. Wild Rose Press has already contracted the second in the series, but they want to publish MacGregor’s Promise before MacIan’s Curse. (Titles are still tentative.) While less erotic, the Tartan Threads series delivers an emotional rush just as intense and adds a touch of paranormal into the mix. In MacGregor’s Promise the hero’s sixth sense lends a bit of tension to the story, and in MacIan’s Curse an ancestral ghost enjoys teasing our our hero and heroine when she isn’t safeguarding our characters.

Is there anything you want to tell readers?

Follow your dreams, even when you aren’t sure they’re headed where you expected them to end up. Some of our best dreams are the ones that follow a path we didn’t see or wouldn’t choose for ourselves.

Excerpt:

A marriage of convenience...or could it be more?

“Bollocks!” The expletive burst out, unbidden. He had to stop using the word before it slipped out in the wrong setting.

At least it got her attention. Her moss-colored eyes widened, and her lips parted in surprise.
Another flicker of want paralyzed him.

“I should go.” With a grace that took his breath away, she rose and turned toward the door. This time, though, her feet inched forward.

“Stop!” Try as he might, it came out as a command.

She dropped into the chair, her porcelain skin fading to the pasty white color it had taken on when she vomited.

He raked his fingers through his hair. What was happening? Besides him losing control?

“You’ve done nothing wrong,” he explained. “It’s George I wish to thrash.”

To his surprise, she harrumphed in a very unladylike manner. “Might I watch?”

Her hand flew up and covered her mouth. Wide, emerald eyes with thick, long lashes stared at him, half horrified. Then she lifted her chin in defiance.

Damn, she was pretty. Dark cherries and clotted cream pretty.

Footsteps echoed from the hallway, drawing her attention, but Jeremy continued to stare. He didn’t care who entered. He wanted to ogle her for a few minutes.

“Speak of the devil,” her luscious lips muttered.
















Thursday, February 6, 2020

Guest Post: That April in Santa Monica by Melody DeBlois




Tell us a little about yourself:

My husband and I live in Sacramento, California for six months and in Chandler, Arizona for the other half of the year. My family is the most important part of my life. My friends come in a close second. I have been writing for years, but it wasn’t until I buckled down and studied the markets and tried my darndest to sell, that things began to happen. I love writing for The Wild Rose Press. All the authors are not only friends but like family. Everyday I learn something new about writing and marketing. I can’t picture being published with anyone else.

What do like the most and the least about writing?

I love writing when it all clicks together and I am able to see it like a movie. It’s like I am just recording it as fast as I am able to write it down. I also love seeing the characters changing and learning the things that will improve them. What I don’t like is I am so very slow at getting to the process where the story all snaps together. The road to the book being ready to publish is rocky and full of detours and dead ends. I wish I could wake up in the morning and work all the way through to when I go to bed. But, as with all jobs, life gets in the way.

Give us a peek into your latest published work?

Madison receives acclaim for running a talent agency for people with disabilities, but she doesn't know how to take care of herself. When her altruism becomes life-threatening, she joins a reality TV show that pairs her with hot, raven-haired Brandon. He is witty, sexy, and her teacher. That makes him off limits.

Brandon focuses on his work as TV's most noted health teacher. He has one fast rule—never fall for a student. But when he meets Madison, their chemistry is combustible. There's no hiding their conflict or their attraction, especially when it's all caught on film.

What’s next on the writing horizon for you?

My next book is called Undercover in Venice Beach, book 2. I am on the final draft of page 200 as of today. I’m loving this book. Here’s a sneak peek at a blurb:

Struggling business owner Audrey Powell has just lost her mother. She’s returned to Venice Beach to take over the tea house her mother made so special. She’s determined to keep Mama’s spirit of helping others alive. But she has no one to help her run things…until enter Liam James, the hunky chef who works miracles with food.

Liam James is a spy with British Intelligence. He sets up surveillance in the tea house where secrets are being leaked that threaten national security. To fit in with the clientele, he must work under the guise of a chef. Never has he allowed a woman to get in the way of a mission, until he meets Audrey. Trouble is, she isn’t who she claims to be.

Is there anything you want to tell readers?

My wish for all my readers is that they enjoy the Love is a Beach Series like their best vacation.

Excerpt:

Madison hadn’t slept well. Her dreams were like trying to see through a dark sheet of glass. She awoke to thirst and wandered downstairs for a drink of filtered water. She’d fallen asleep in her clothes. She ran her fingers through her disheveled hair. 

She discovered Brandon slouching in the easy chair and did a double take. He didn’t have a candle before him, nor was his body in the lotus position. He simply appeared to be thinking, his eyes distant as he stared past her. 

She snapped her fingers in front of his face. “Brandon, are you okay?” He didn’t look well. In the lamplight, she could see the shadows under his eyes as if he hadn’t had any sleep. 

“Hi there,” he said, “I could ask the same of you. You left in quite a huff last night. Were you able to work through your anger?” 

“It’s our last day together, our last morning.” You donkey, don’t you get it? Talk about clueless; he took the cake. 

“I know,” he said and hung his head. “People get used to routine.” 

“That’s right. It takes three weeks to form a habit.” 

There was so much they were not saying, so much left undone. 

His eyes were bloodshot, and he closed them as if not wanting her to see he looked like he’d been up the entire night drinking whiskey and shooting pool. “You probably are feeling a little afraid, Madison.” 

“Big-time.” Her own voice sounded small, but then there was that knot in her throat…I want you to stay!

 He slapped the arm of the chair. “I’ve got an idea.” He motioned to her, his face filled with that boyish wonder she’d come to cherish. “Let’s go watch the sunrise.” 

“I’m game.” She followed him into the gunmetal darkness where the air didn’t stir, and the only sounds were of the ocean roaring in the distance. Harley had lumbered out behind her, licking her heels. 

He said, “There’s a certain kind of freshness in the air. Do you feel it, do you smell it—tell me.” 
She walked with him. “Always the instructor, even to the end.” 

She was so close to him her thigh scraped against his, close enough to inhale that male testosterone that was exclusively Brandon Kennedy. Their fingers touched, sending a surge of electricity throughout her, making her miss a step. As if it were instinctual, he took her hand in his. She noted the texture of his rough palm against hers. No eyeballing cameras had snuck behind them to their destination. She had him all to herself. Imagine that? What she could do, if he let her. 

They had front row seats, their backs to the misty waves. Harley, never a morning dog, rolled over in the sand and went back to sleep. 

They took stock of the light show just getting ready to start. She shivered in the chilly morning air. Seeing her, he wrapped his arms around her, and she thought she’d do something dumb like tell him how much she cared. She couldn’t help laying her head on his mighty shoulder. It felt good to cuddle with him, natural and intimate.
 
He said, “The first thirty minutes of sunrise and the last thirty minutes of sunset, it is safe to look straight at the sun.” 

“They’re always telling people not to take in the sun with the naked eye.” 

“And it’s true, but the first and last half hour won’t hurt you. In fact, it’s the great healer of the mind and the body. Don’t you feel the sun’s energy balancing and healing you?” 

What Madison felt was Brandon’s body heat radiating through her, tightening her muscles, skimming up her spine. That kind of warmth should come with a warning—exposure might cause side effects. Maybe she could have blamed it on chemistry or like attracting like—called it a lethal injection. She was dying for want of him. 

She managed to say, “I see a halo around the sun.” 

“Feel it vibrate?” he asked, turning to look at her, and his eyes turned molten-blue. Somehow, she didn’t think watching the sky had anything to do with it. 

The heat had gathered at the sweet place between her legs—another side effect of her being close to him. If this didn’t end up in a kiss, she didn’t think she’d be able to bear it. 

Drawing in a long shaky breath, she said, “I do feel the vibration.” Oh, did she! 

“Being out in the middle of nature, with the birds and the sea creatures, it does something to a person, don’t you think?” 

“Amen to Mother Earth,” she said dreamily. 

“There’s harmony in the sounds.” His breath seemed to have caught in his throat. 

“Yes, a more beautiful melody could not exist.” 

“Do you feel your eyes blur? It’s the sun cleansing you.” 

Cleansing? Try heating up as if some crazy so-and-so had switched on the gas. She moaned, “My eyes have become pools of marvel.” No, that wasn’t right. They were pools of longing, no mistaking it.



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Friday, December 27, 2019

Guest post: Choosing Fate by Curtis A. Cooper

My guest today is Curtis Copper talking about his book Choosing Fate. Welcome to Curtis.







Tell us a little about yourself:

I’ve been writing since 2009, when I finally picked up a story I’d started twenty years earlier. I have affection for keeping the family name continuing and I thought a book would be a good way of leaving my mark. What I didn’t count on was the writer’s bug. I had only planned on writing the one story. It was a suspense that took me two years to write during lunch hours. Once I had finished, I had all that time on my hands. So, I developed a board game and wrote a fantasy based on it. My third book was a mystery with its own opinionated detective and a love scene. Half-way though my fourth novel, I learned the meaning of writer’s block. Then something TOTALLY out of character happened. I came up with an edgy love story that flooded my head with all kinds of possibilities, and I wrote a story in the one genre I never saw myself being equated with – Romance. Straight from the Heart became my breakout novel that put me in touch with Extasy Books. That was my beginning of becoming a romance novelist. I now have nine books with a tenth due out in the beginning of the New Year. I also have two short stories and my third, Choosing Fate, published and available on eXtasybooks today.

I am married, with 4 kids and 3 grandkids, all living in upstate New York

What do like the most and the least about writing?

What I like most, is being able to come up with a believable plot and slipping in quietly, parts that somehow come to light later on in the story. Straight from the Heart was filled with them.  I alluded to a secret she had, but few of my readers caught them. They became obvious when the secret was revealed.

What I hate is partially the English language at fault. If I go too fast in my typing, I can type a word that is real, sounds exactly like the word I want, but is a totally different meaning. For an easy example using the word pear when I mean pair.

Give us a peek into your latest published work?

My short story, Choosing Fate, which I always seem to go right up to the maximum number of words allowed for the short story, is a heart warmer for eXtasy Books’ New Year’s short story collection:

Samuel Misner is in a slow downward spiral and has been for the last four years since his wife and son died. Turned bitter, he catches a young orphaned boy stealing a couple doughnuts from his shop. His assistant of eight years leaves him at the beginning of the Christmas holiday, his busiest time. To try to win her back, he hires the same boy who stole the pastries. As they begin develop a bond, he realizes that he isn’t the only person with a bleak past and can’t go through with the charade. Will his assistant see through him, or will she return?

What’s next on the writing horizon for you?

Currently, I’m working on what appears to be my first novella for eXtasy’s special collection called Noted. My story is called On a Side Note. After I finish, I will return to my Heart series with book number four. As with the other three, I have new main characters but the same secondary characters

Is there anything you want to tell readers?

My Heart series centers around the town my parents grew up in. I used homes and other landmarks familiar to me. I took pictures and made videos of the sites in the stories. They’re on my web site.
Watch for my next story, The Reluctant Private Eye. It’s a mystery/suspense in first person centering on a housewife who wants to find out who killed her husband.

Excerpt: 

Carrie had just returned to the front of the shop in time to hear her boss, Sam Misner, grumble at the woman standing outside the front door

“We’re closed,” Sam said through the glass.

“Please? It’s my daughter’s birthday party, and I got stuck in traffic. I believe you have a cake ready for me.” The woman looked utterly panicked.

“I don’t make exceptions. If I make one for you, pretty soon I have everyone waiting ’til closing.” He turned around and walked into the back room.

Carrie stuck her forefinger up as soon as he was out of sight. She removed the only personalized decorated cake that hadn’t been picked up and opened the box to reveal Happy 12th Birthday Rebecca. She tilted the cake slightly so the woman could see.

The woman nodded.

She brought it to the door and turned the knob on the lock. Then she opened the door and handed the cake to the woman.

The woman paid in cash and murmured, “Thank you so much. Keep the change.”

“Thank you.” Carrie smiled as the woman walked away. She closed and locked the door, then turned to find her boss standing with hands on hips and a frown on his face.

“Didn’t you hear me tell her we were closed?”

“Oh, come on, Sam. You would rather toss the cake than sell it and keep the customer?”

“It’s the oldest trick in the book. A person orders a cake and comes late, pretending to be held up. 
Then he, or in this case, she…holds me up. And I’m out hundreds and a cake with someone’s name on it.”

“That didn’t happen.”

“This time.” He frowned, obviously unhappy with her.

“You don’t trust anyone anymore, do you?”

“I can’t afford to.” He stomped off into the kitchen.

Carrie rolled her eyes and set about putting the pastries away.

* * * *

Samuel Misner drove home, still steamed from Carrie’s defiance. He shook his head as he unlocked the deadbolt and doorknob of the front door. After entering, he headed straight to his bedroom to change out of his bakery clothes.

Walking down the hallway, he passed the closed door of his son’s bedroom and the bathroom across from it. His wedding picture hung on the wall just left of the bathroom door—his wife in white with a younger Sam in a blue tuxedo, standing in front of an arch. On the other side of the bathroom was a school picture of his son in fourth grade. He paid them no mind and continued to the room at the end of the hall, focused on the task at hand.

As he changed, the phone on the nightstand rang. Recognizing the number, he hesitated, but went ahead and picked up before the answering machine started. “Hi, sis.”

“Hi, Sam. Are you coming to the party next weekend?”

“You cut right to the chase, don’t you?”

“Well… You’ve avoided answering your phone the last three times I’ve called. So, are you?”

“Why do you want me there?”

“What kind of question is that? You’re my big brother. Why wouldn’t I?”

“I don’t know. I can’t see it being much fun.”

“You need to get out and return to the living.”

He frowned. “What are you talking about?”

“Sam, you’ve been on your own for close to four years now. It’s time to move on with your life.”
“Easy for you to say, Sharon.”

“No, it’s not easy. You lost your wife and your son, but I lost my brother that same night.”

He ignored her insinuation. “Hardly the same.” He heard her sigh.

“I’ll take that as a no, but you’re welcome if you change your mind.”

He hung up the receiver as soon as he heard the click on the other end. The last thing I need is the memory of another Christmas gone by. He flashed back to that fateful Christmas Eve when he’d returned home from a busy day at the bakery to find his wife and son had gone out. The note she’d written lay on the dining room table, telling him they went to the store to get some eggnog. Then the phone call. His wife was in emergency surgery—no mention of his son.

He brushed off the memory and finished changing.

The next morning, six o’clock couldn’t arrive early enough. Sam’s inner clock always managed to wake him at five, but out of caution, he still set the alarm. He returned to the shop to begin his morning routine. First up, glazed doughnuts.



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Wednesday, December 18, 2019

Guest Post: A Winter Knight by Barbara Bettis

I'm please to have Barbara Bettis on my blog talking about her release: A Winter Knight





Tell us a little about yourself:

I’ve finally retired from teaching English and Journalism at a local four year college and, after early retirement there, taught a few more years at a nearby two-year college. Before that, I worked for small daily newspapers so my two sons could grow up in a small town, and was a stringer for the AP, the Kansas City Star, and the Little Rock Democrat-Gazette. While working toward my doctorate, I wrote feature articles for area magazines and edited a local weekly in summers because I believed journalism was (is) a subject one must keep up with in real time if one is to teach it. Although my doctorate was in higher education, my major was in journalism and my dissertation was in Journalism Ethics. I still have a fierce devotion to the ‘old style’ journalism traditions of accuracy, fairness, telling all prominent sides of a story, and avoiding fallacious reasoning. (That last, certainly, is not easy to do!) I six grandchildren and they are absolute delights.

What do like the most and the least about writing?

The most: creating stories and seeing characters come alive.

The least: promoting after the book is finished.

Give us a peek into your latest published work?

He’s running from his past; she’s running from her future. But on a snowy winter night, they find each other and the surprising gift of love.

Sir Nicholas has given up on marriage. These days he’s content to captain his friend’s troops and avoid entanglements—until one winter night when he rescues a half-frozen woman from a snowstorm. Her irrepressible spirit and kindness to others reminds him that all ladies aren’t like his former intended, who wed his brother while Nick was on crusade. But he can’t open his heart to Lady Clare. She’s bound to another, and Nick won’t forfeit his honor.

Even if she were free, he has nothing to offer but love, and this lady deserves everything.
Lady Clare’s dying grandfather has arranged her betrothal, but the arrival of the man she’s to wed sends her fleeing into a snowstorm. Injured when her horse stumbles, she’s rescued by a mysterious knight. She recovers at his run-down manor, safe at last—until her betrothed tracks her down two days before Christmas. Trapped at home with the wedding imminent, she longs for the winter knight she’s come to love.

Only a miracle can bring Clare and Nick together. But at Christmas, anything is possible.

What’s next on the writing horizon for you?

I’m finishing a short story that will appear  in collection of short stories about Feisty Heroines. That’s currently on pre-order for 99 cents.

Excerpt:

The strange horse fidgeted in the bailey, tossing its mane and stomping the new white fall into mud. The stable lad grasped the reins and murmured to the nervous animal. After a few token twitches, it settled in to nose against the boy’s shoulder while Nicholas removed a bag from one side of the saddle. He pulled open the cord and peered inside. Tom had been right. A lady’s garments.

Nicholas swore under his breath. What feather-brained female would venture out in a storm with such few belongings? Any lady he’d ever known traveled with trunks of adornments.

No ignoring the evidence. Some lady or her attendant was likely trudging through the frigid December night after being tossed from this mount.

“Merde!” He sighed and ducked his head, then muttered another curse when kernels of icy snow melted down the back of his neck.

He had no choice. Couldn’t leave anyone to wander around in this weather. And a lady, at that. If God had any mercy, He’d see the lady’s party found her first. What would Nicholas do with her at the ramshackle manor he’d been tasked with putting to rights? You could do only two things with ladies—marry’em or mount’em. He’d sworn off the first and was too damned cold for the second.



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Tuesday, December 10, 2019

Guest Post: Charm Me Again by Tena Stetler

My guest today is Tena Stetler talking about: Charm Me Again




Tell us a little about yourself. 

I have an overactive imagination that has always gotten me into trouble. LOL.  As a child the imagination turned into night frights which terrorized my parents. As soon as I learned to channel that imagination in the form of writing my stories on paper, the night frights subsided or at least were manageable. It’s been several years since I’ve had one, but they seem to raise their ugly head at the most inopportune times. Like during a camping trip with my husband. My terror screaming awoke him and the campground. I had some ‘splaning to do the next morning.  I’m a by-the-seat-of-my-pants writer so I never know where my characters are going to take me.  I avoid living in reality as often as possible.

What do like the most and the least about writing?
What I like about being a writer living in a fantasy world that I create. I love being able to whisk people away from their ordinary world into a romantic, fantasy adventure that they will never want to leave.  Everyone needs a little fantasy in their life. Don’t you think?
What I like least about being a writer is the promotion it takes away from my writing time. But it is a necessary component to becoming a successful author.

Give us a peek into your latest published work?

Breaking the curse is only the first step to forever. 

For several months a Scottish Highland Ghost has haunted Daylan, in his personal life, his professional life and at his forge. Yet, being a talented warlock, he is no closer to discovering what the ghost wants or why he chose Daylan. A trip to Colorado may have unforeseen consequences especially when family history leads him to a shocking discovery. 

As his attraction blooms for Josie, a yoga instructor in his sister’s studio, he realizes there may be more to Josie than he can imagine. When an ancient rogue Fae Warrior set on revenge kidnaps her in an attempt to claim her as his own, a devastating curse comes to light.

Daylan’s world spirals out of control as he searches for Josie. Can he break the age old curse to save her and their future, or will she be lost to him forever?

What’s next on the writing horizon for you?

I’m writing the third book in A Witch’s Journey. It was my nano project. I have only a couple more chapters to write, polish the manuscript and off to my editor. Then I’m considering  writing  a short story for One Scoop or Two the new series from The Wild Rose Press.  Crafting a short story for me is a challenge. I’ve done it twice, Charm Me and Mystic Maples. Both time’s it was rough to keep it to the word count required. Both books were quite popular.  

Also working on the sixth book in A Demon’s Witch Series and a brand new cozy mystery series.

Is there anything you want to tell readers?
I am so very thankful for my readers. I know they are going to love Charm Me Again. Catching up with Summer and Devlin from Charm Me and learning about Josie and Daylan will keep ‘em on the edges of their seats!

Excerpt:

Suddenly the wind increased and changed direction bringing a cold chill to the warm day. She tugged her sweater close around her as a thin maroon line formed along the flat bottom of a dark, boiling cloud spreading across the sky. Moments before there’d been only an occasional fluffy white cloud floating in the bright blue sky. Oh, no, not again.

The line slowly drifted to vertical and spread open to reveal a sparkling interior. Four striking creatures, sharp-angled features with fierce expressions on their inhumanly handsome faces appeared. Gleaming swords hung at their sides as they slipped out of the cloud and stepped onto the ground not more than fifty feet from her and Daylan along the tree line of the property. Holy shit. This can’t be happening.

She rubbed her eyes but when she opened them the men were still there. Dressed in heavy boots, jeans, and formfitting leather vests, shimmering silver bands adorned their muscular upper arms. Two of them had thick shoulder length blond hair, the others had jet black hair hanging in waves past their shoulders.

She jumped up and opened her mouth to scream. But Daylan reacted faster clapping his hand over her mouth while still facing the advancing creatures. To her surprise, a soft giggle escaped from her lips. They look like a group of medieval bikers. Their apparent leader, his reddish sable hair hung well beyond his shoulders in waves, paused a few yards in front of them.





Short bio:

Tena Stetler is a best-selling author of award winning paranormal romance with an over-active imagination.  She is adventuring into the world of cozy mysteries next year. Her books tell tales of magical kick-ass women and mystical alpha males that dare to love them. Travel, adventure and a bit of mystery flourish in her books along with a few companion animals to round out the tales.

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