His raw intensity. He sees everything. He knows everything. You can feel his touch even before he enters the room.
Nice guy or douche?
That is the question, isn't it?
Favorite moment with him?
One of the things I love/fear about Nicholas is his intensity. It's the kind of raw power that, if he were to touch your hand, you'd know all the mysteries of the universe, but you might lose yourself forever. It would be more than simple attraction. Getting close to him would feel like stars were colliding. Imagine all of that coming at *you*. He wants you. He knows you want him. It's not even a matter of if anymore, but when. You can see it in his eyes. You can hear it in his voice. Maybe, just maybe, it's an echo. Maybe, just maybe, it's some invisible string tethering you to some previous life where you had once consumed each other. The force is so strong that maybe you're a little scared at first. But deep down inside you're titillated. And you're powerless to stop it, and why on earth would you want to? It's like balancing on a high wire but all you can feel is the wind on your face and the stars at the tips of your fingers.
Yeah, I've never had that until there was Nicholas.
She barely heard the knock at the door around midnight. She thought for a moment it was Michael, but as she walked closer to the door her heart revealed who really stood on the other side. She didn’t even need to hear his voice. Even through two inches of wood his hold on her was undeniable.
“Adele? It’s Nicholas.”
She gasped, unsure of what to do. Her first impulse was to fling the door open and fly into his arms, but at the same moment she wanted to get as far away from him as possible. She needed to keep her head, and there was no doing it the moment that she looked into his eyes. She shook as she stammered, “You know, I’m really not feeling all that well, Nicholas. I think it may be a bug. I’m just going to get some sleep. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
There was a pause. She held her breath, hoping that he would not see through her feeble lie. “What’s wrong, Adele?”
Her heart broke at the question. “Nothing's wrong.”
“I’ll feel better if I could see you,” he said, and she could hear the longing in his voice. It was the same longing she felt and subsequently cursed.
“I’d feel better if you didn’t,” she finally said. A long moment stretched on and she started to think he had gone.
“Don’t do this,” he said in a wavering voice. “Don’t push me away.”
She didn’t answer. She couldn’t answer. Everything within her wanted to hold him just one more time—one more time before she had to kill him. Fate was indeed a cruel bitch, much crueler than Adele had ever thought possible. How could love demand so much? She sobbed softly.
“Don’t you know how long I’ve waited for you?” he cried through the door. She shook her head, forcing away the memories, forcing away the feelings. “You’ve waited for me too. You know it.”
Just as she started to walk away he said, “You love me. Remember.”
In that moment she was swept away into a memory she never would have believed belonged to her. She was wrapped in Nicholas’s arms in an ornate four poster bed, her leg was draped over his barely clad hip and he kissed her along her neck and over her bare breasts. His kiss consumed her, his eyes dark with passion. Her voice was husky with desire as she begged him to make love to her. Her nails raked down his back, on her left hand a ruby ring that he had given her because she had promised herself to him, till death do they part.
She watched in her mind’s eye how his strong hands spread across her soft, ivory flesh, branding her with his touch, setting her soul on fire with each kiss she could feel on her cold, cracked lips hundreds of years later.
And now here they stood again, their love defying death itself. Time rearranged so they could be together once more. Adele pulled open the door and rushed out to feel him alive in her arms again, screaming, “I remember!” into the shrieking wind of the night.
What do you love about him?
He's mysterious and powerful.
What do you hate about him?
He's mysterious and powerful.
If you went on a date, where would you go?
A place that looked like a castle. A place where he'd reign and I'd be his queen.
Who inspired him?
I wrote this the year after my first husband died. You could say I was working some things through.
Who might play him in a movie?
I needed dark hair, dark eyes and raw sexual chemistry, which is my own personal kryptonite. My original prototype for this character in 2004...
Do you have a special song that reminds you of him?
I have an entire SOUNDTRACK. But this will always be their love theme to me. I cry every time I hear it.
Any "Easter Eggs" planted with this book boyfriend?
Aside from the obvious symbolism that pretty much captures all the people I love, there was a moment where Michael, Adele's best friend, trots out to meet her on the schoolyard where she was tasked with running a mile and she couldn't do it. He walked with her every step of the way back to the finish line. That was a real experience with one of my soul mates - my best friend, Jeff.
I also crafted the equally mysterious Thaddeus after one of my adolescent fascinations, which makes this book a loving homage to being a teen in the 80s.
Where can we find him?
MY IMMORTAL is a stand-alone story. (For Now.) It is also free today only.
Many of you are already familiar with the origin of my new Masters Saga, the story about a young woman and the escort she hires to fulfill every last naughty desire. This unconventional romance, a sort of "Pretty Woman" in reverse, started simply with a thought-provoking question from my bestie, which is also a little how my story MY IMMORTAL came to life, but we'll talk about that in a sec.
First, I need to tell you about Devlin Masters and Caz Bixby.
Many of you have already met Devlin. He's that sexy lil morsel who gets paid $400 an hour to fulfill the lascivious fantasies of those women who have the means to pay him. He was a LOT of fun to write... a blank slate if you will. Like Coralie, I could mold him into anything I wanted him to be.
Well, in the first book anyway. As it so happens, that rascal had a personality all his own, and he was determined to tell ME who he was, starting with the moment he sat down to play the piano. That's when I realized there was a lot more depth, and potential, to this gun for hire.
See, the thing is... I wrote Masters as sort of a... protest if you will. My bestie asked me if I would ever hire an escort, sort of a hypothetical question to test my boundaries about sex. The more I thought about it, the more value I saw in hiring a guy for sex.
Crazy, right? Absolutely scandalous. But I'm being completely sincere.
I found it both titillating and empowering to write a story where a man is committed to the idea of feminine pleasure, since, unfortunately, in our culture such things are usually prohibited. If a woman exhibits any kind of sexual liberation, like a man, she is regarded as a slut, one whose value diminishes the more liberties she takes.
I have a problem with this, so much so that I live my life in such a way that it is almost absolutely impossible to slut-shame me. I'm quite open about how I feel about sex. I mean, obviously, right? That's how I make my living. I seek to empower women to embrace their own sexuality without shame.
To say that I have a problem with how our society treats women and sex is putting it mildly. I could (and kind of have) written a book on most of the topics that I want to challenge, such as the whole "virgin/purity = value," myth, the "physical perfection = beauty = happiness" myth. In MASTERS, I go after female fulfillment in almost all its forms, using sex as the driving force mostly because that is where we are most discouraged from being empowered and fulfilled.
I'm not writing sex just to write sex. I never do. Ever. There's a point. There's a reason. And the reason in MASTERS is one of empowerment, even when it would seem that my character is powerless. Sometimes you have to learn how much you will bend to know where all those boundaries are. These are important to learn, which is why sexual exploration is such a vital part of the human experience - for both sexes.
Yet sadly, particularly in heterosexual sex, that exploration is often discouraged if you're female.
The statistics say only 40% of women in reach orgasm as the result of casual, heterosexual hookups, as compared to the 75% or higher that men and lesbian women average. I talked a bit about it on Facebook yesterday, where I posted a link about the sexual myths that we need to stop teaching our young girls, chief among them is that when it comes to sex, women are here solely for the pleasure of men. Our pleasure is an afterthought, because we don't care about it as much.
Needless to say, the Masters saga turned into a tale of sexual awakening that dares to defy convention AND permission. And there are just no men on this planet more suited to teach this lesson than Devlin Masters and Caz Bixby.
You haven't met Caz yet, he's in Book Two, MASTERS FOR LIFE, available NOW.
This is not your traditional GV triangle. In fact, I really didn't know what Caz had up his sleeve when he sauntered onto the scene in Book Two. He's arrogant. He's an unapologetic douche bag. He's openly opportunistic. He doesn't promise wine and roses, just dirty sex and lots of it. In the beginning, it isn't even sexual desire that puts Coralie on his radar. Theirs is a painfully honest relationship from the jump.
Well, as painfully honest as one can be when one is an unapologetic, cocky, opportunistic douche bag.
As Coralie peels back the layers on Devlin, Caz is right there to cast doubt on every romantic dream that Dev tries to make come true for her. He's the one who puts a time limit on her happiness, predicting that everything she wants will fall apart before the book's end.
Whether he's right or whether he's wrong... you'll either have to read the book or have someone who did spoil it for you. I shan't.
What I can tell you is that the book was a painful turn for me in many ways, kind of forcing me out of my own comfort zone regarding sex, relationships, fidelity and true intimacy.
Suffice it to say, MASTERS FOR HIRE was the fairy tale. MASTERS FOR LIFE is much more brutally honest and realistic. As realistic as I get anyway. It is one of my angstiest books by a MILE.
This angst is necessary to get you to Book Three, MASTERS FOREVER, which has now been released for pre-order. There's a reason for this, which you will discover when you hit the last page of MASTERS FOR LIFE, ready to throttle me with how it ends. Honestly I have never been more nervous for a book series to publish - and I'm not just talking about Book Two. The entire thing could either propel me forward or drop me on my ass. My stakes are every bit as high as Coralie's herself.
Again, that's your only warning.
"The author has written a very powerful and angst-filled book that I honestly have never seen from her. This feels like new territory for her and I couldn't be happier. There are so many layers and so much at stake for our heroine, I'm beyond cautious as to how it will all conclude." - Amazon review from MJLovestoRead
Indeed, it is all brand new territory. I take the liberties given to me by the Erotic Romance genre all the way to the end, mostly because I really didn't have any choice. Devlin in particular kept me twisted into knots the entire duration of writing this story. Many people who don't write don't understand how these characters often take on a life of their own. They do and say stuff to surprise you on a regular basis, even when you know - ultimately - where they're going. All the little details, and a few big ones, often don't make themselves known until you've breathed a little life into them, allowing them to whisper their words into your ear and tickle your brain with all the possibilities of what could be.
Well, Devlin was indeed Devlish the whole way through. And then Caz showed up, and I was knocked about like a pinball, as dizzy and confused as Coralie herself. They tested what I believe about sex and gratification and feminine empowerment all the while trying to take it away at every turn. Yes... it's that kind of story. Coralie has to fight for that very thing she wanted from page one of Book One: to live life on her terms.
Dev and Caz test how far she's willing to go to get it, which is further than I personally have ever gone with my heroines ... EVER.
Why am I telling you this? Well, because I feel I can. We've gone through a lot together, from the angsty, Kindle-breaking GROUPIE saga, to the bittersweet and emotional FULLERTON FAMILY SAGA. I feel like you'll understand where I'm coming from. Or, you'll need to, the minute you finish Book Two. Through it all, we peel back the colorful, blinding layers of Oz that Dev painted in Book One, to realize that things aren't quite as they appeared to be. You're going to need a friend for this, someone who understands the pain and disappointment you're going to feel.
Basically you're going to need a hug. Every bit as much as I do.
Where these guys came from, I don't even know. But what they had to teach me was eye-opening.
I had made love with several men before him, but none had ever been able to make me come. They inserted Tab A into Slot B and if that was enough to get me there, great. If not, well that’s just how it worked for women. They accepted it. I accepted it.
Not Devlin. I came every single time we had sex. Every. Single. Time. Not just once or twice or randomly like a fluke. It wasn’t some mystery. It was biology. No one would ever think to touch every place on a man’s body but his penis and expect him to “get there.” Devlin knew just where to touch, just how to touch, and what the true objective for partnered sexual contact truly meant. The job simply wasn’t done until I reached the finish line, too.
He taught me to reach it. Expect it. Demand it. Just like a man. And now that I knew that was possible, I knew I’d never go back to settling again.
*****
Not to be outdone, here's some plain talk from Caz.
*****
“You know, you’re not half bad when you behave like a human being. Why do you have to be such a jerk, Caz?”
He huffed and puffed with exertion. “I have a reputation to maintain,” he replied with that shit-eating grin I loathed.
“Being an asshole work that well for you?”
He replaced the weights and sat up to look at me. “Look around you, CC. You tell me.” He grabbed my water bottle from my hand and unscrewed the cap, then guzzled it while his eyes studied my face. He handed it back to me with a grin, as if he knew what kind of intimate liberties he had just taken.
I shook my head. “You just can’t help yourself, can you?”
“Nope,” he announced cheerfully. “Why should I? The way I figure it, we’re all hedonists deep down. We all constantly think about the stuff we’re not supposed to, those things you’d never admit in polite company. But we all have those moments when we pass a stranger on the street and instantly wonder what it would be like to fuck them. We all have those moments where we talk to someone, and suddenly we fixate on their lips, imaging what it would look like on our bodies, or taste like against our mouth. We’ve all had that moment when we wanted to just have fun without consequences, like fucking a stranger you don’t even know, in every raunchy way you could imagine. So why not just do it? Take no prisoners. Make no apologies.”
I didn’t say anything, so he went on. “Sure there are people who, when they think these thoughts, feel like they’re some kind of weirdo. An oddball. A deviant. And a few are. But most of us are just normal human beings, hardwired to enjoy sex for pleasure. We’re supposed to want it. We’re supposed to love it. The problems only arise when we’re told we shouldn’t want it, or that we shouldn’t have it. That there’s something wrong with us if we love it the way that we do. It’s everywhere all the time, yet our society wants to pretend like it doesn’t exist. That it’s improper, or obscene. It’s all bullshit, CC. All this perceived purity? I’ve seen the truth every time someone paid me to fuck them. And the things they want to do,” he crowed with a chuckle. “We’re not pure at all. We just lump lust behind other, more obscene sins like wrath, gluttony, envy or greed, simply because that helps us sleep at night. Like we can forget we’re all animals deep down, happiest when we’re allowed to roar. Look at what happened to you. You can’t honestly tell me that you were happier when you were following all those bogus rules of propriety.”
I didn’t want to admit it, but he was right. “No.”
“There you go. If there’s anything I teach you in these next few months, I hope it’s that. Because that means so much more than how much you weigh or how you look. Some of the best lays of my life have been ugly women who just knew how to take what they wanted.”
I scowled at him. “Way to ruin a moment, Caz. Why do you have to be such a pig?”
He shrugged. “Just being honest, pussycat. But I can see how you might not be used to that.”
*****
So... yeah. That's Caz. Like I said, he's a cocky, unapologetic jerk. It was truly weird having him in my head for months on end. It only helped somewhat that I could use this sexy guy as the inspiration...
But I added equal parts Brian Kinney from Queer as Folks... so - you get what you get.
Are you scared yet?
You should be.
We're going down the rabbit hole with Coralie. There's a lot of symbolism in play to subtly (and not so subtly) wedge Coralie out of that restrictive "Good Girl" archetype where she doesn't belong. NONE of us do, not really, not in the way society has defined it at least. If you're reading naughty books about sex, you've likely been, at the very least, teased about it.
And if I accomplish nothing more than this idea we can be both good and feminine without being confined to being a Good Girl (as in Good Girls Don't) with this series, then that will be a huge win for me, and well worth the time I spent with two of the most frustrating male characters my muse has ever introduced me to.
Frustrating, because I couldn't stay away from them... following wherever they led, even dark places unknown.
I hope at the end of it all, you can regard them as the teachers that they were to me, even when they had a lot to learn themselves.
That's what Book Three is for...
Until then, it's time to embrace a little darkness.
If you're in the mood for something even darker, nay, scary this Halloween weekend, MY IMMORTAL is available for FREE through the 31st. How do you find love when you're a reincarnated vampire?
By the summer of 1985, I had a few notable obsessions. I was head over heels for Steve Perry of Journey...
I read every Bloom County comic strip I could to satisfy my endless Penguin Lust...
And I grew up reading a steady diet of Stephen King. This part you probably already knew.
But what you may NOT know is that when I was 15, I had a very brief run-in with vampires, courtesy of Stephen King's book SALEM'S LOT.
It was a typical West Texas summer. The days were long and generally hot and humid. I lived indoors by a fan (or my AC.) This really wasn't that different from any other season, as I've always been a bit of a homebody. I was an avid reader, inhaling books by the stack, and I had discovered Stephen King thanks to the movie CHRISTINE just the year before. I didn't get to finish the movie so I read the book, which ended up being one of my favorite SK books of all time. I loved the conversational tone of it, which featured multiple POVs. I loved the time frame of the late 70s when it was set. I loved the lead character, Dennis, who was a cool kid made even cooler by the fact he had a nerdy, outcast of a best friend.
I loved it so much, I became an immediate SK devotee. And as a new devotee, I had to read every single title I could get my greedy little paws on. The white-cover romance novels on my shelves were replaced by thick horror novels that I would inhale word for word. And going from romance to horror wasn't as much of a left-turn as you might think. I'm all about story, so I loved the human drama of these stories. (CARRIE was the outcast, coming to terms with being different. CHRISTINE was about friendship, and how far one would go to save their pal. PET SEMETARY was about love and loss and letting go.) Stephen King is a master storyteller and I knew I was in good hands.
I trusted him so much that I bought SALEM'S LOT and fully intended to read it all within that brutal summer. This was not an easy decision for me, especially after I freaked out watching the tepid TV movie. See, I'm not a fan of vampires. In fact, they scare me more than zombies, werewolves, ghosts and demons COMBINED. The reason is simple. Vampires are seductive. You WANT to get close to them even when you know it would spell your doom. They are alluring. Charming. Often handsome/beautiful. They are mysterious and compelling and they offer the promise of immortality. What could be more seductive than that?
Even the way they kill you has sexual overtones. They seduce you into an embrace so that they can penetrate you with their sharp fangs, sucking the life right out of you.
Being raised in a strict Southern Baptist household made this equally alluring and forbidden.
So it would be fair to say that I was freaked out by the book before I even cracked the cover.
Worse, I made it a habit to read right as I was going to bed at night. And, it being summer, I went to bed later than my mom. So if I was alone and scared and thinking too much about vampires, I only had my cat, Fluffy, to keep me company.
I'll be honest, it took me a while to get into the story. I was reluctant to read it, and it didn't make it any easier for me that the book read drier than the previous ones that I had enjoyed. But I stuck with it like a trooper, because that's what you do as a fan. You read every single book, you know every single story and you catch every single aside SK threw at you through his various works, referencing things only true fans would catch. (Which is what gave me the idea to do it for my books.)
Within about a week, I was invested... if you can call wearing a cross around your neck and sprinkling garlic salt on your windows "invested."
I'm not ashamed to admit that I was freaked the hell out. But I wouldn't quit reading. The gauntlet had been thrown and I was determined to live up to the challenge.
So this particular night, I read my requisite chapters late into the night. It was hot, but I had that window shut and locked up tight. I was using an overhead light, which was my first mistake. The switch for said light was wayyyyy across the room. With the light on, this distance was maybe about five or six feet. The minute you flipped that light off, however, it was a good mile, mile and a half.
I had made the mistake of moving my bed from the wall nearest the switch to the far wall right next to the windows.
This would be my second error of judgment.
Finally I mustered the courage to make that long, lonely trek across my pink shag carpeting to turn out the light. I don't even think it was fully dark by the time I took that running leap and dove under my heavy comforter. Sure it was heavier than one would need on a 80-degree night, but I felt fairly confident that it was the only bedding I had that was fang-proof. I covered myself head to toe, with just a little gap facing the fan so I could breathe.
(I still sleep this way, using a fortress of pillows now to cover my neck. Thank you EVER so much, SK.)
It took a few minutes, but I finally started to calm down. I could breathe easier, my heart rate returned to normal. Everything was fine.
Until...
Within minutes of my safe return to the bed, I heard a loud THUNK against my bedroom window. At that point I bolted upright in bed, a scream locked in my throat, certain that a horde of vampires had finally pinpointed my location. I was certain that if I turned toward the window, I'd see the white face of the undead staring at me, beckoning me to open the window and leap into that eternal abyss.
Worse, I was afraid I'd willingly do so.
Needless to say,I didn't look. Not no, but HELL NAH. There wasn't any way in this world or any other, in this life or any other, that I would turn my head toward that window. Nuh uh. No way. Ain't happenin'.
At least until I heard this pitiful meow coming from the outside.
What I had forgotten up until that point was that my cat, the aforementioned Fluffy, used my (normally open) bedroom window to get in and out of the house. Sadly, for the both of us, I had forgotten this little factoid once I started making my bedroom vampire-proof.
I let Fluffy in (quickly) and finished the rest of the book without incident.
Stephen King is a fucker, s'all I'm sayin'.
I honesty never intended to write a book about vampires because they scare me so, but thanks to a late night conversation with my best friend, who suggested we were vampires in a past life because we seem to come to life between midnight and dawn, it sparked the idea that inspired MY IMMORTAL WHICH I wrote overnight, every night, for a month solid in 2004.
This time, however, I made sure all my cats were INDOORS before locking the windows. Somehow I still freaked myself out. I guess I'm a fucker, too. I mean, I guess I'd have to be, I've returned to the bloodsucking genre twice more after that, once, to convert my Gothic romance into an urban thriller for a movie script, and once for a dark sojourn into erotic horror.
Happy St. Patrick's Day! While you're guzzling green beverages and pinning on your "Kiss Me, I'm Irish" buttons, check out my featured book for March: "My Immortal." It's a paranormal Rubenesque romance that toys with the idea of reincarnation, soul mates and sacrificing it all for love. You want angst? I deliver in this book and then some, and for this month only it's $.99 for your Kindle!!
*Special Note: If you're digging the music used for these book trailers, check out my buddy Hal Sparks and his band Zero 1. If you're in Los Angeles, be sure to check out local gigs... you never know what Groupie-esque romance writer you'll see in the audience.
If you're in the mood for an Irish short story involving luck and romance, check out my free short story, The Luck of the Irish (In Love.)
And of course if you haven't already checked out what's got readers excited about "Groupie," the first book in the series is on sale for only $1.99!!
For more deals, featured books and all the latest information about upcoming books, follow me on Twitter or become a fan on Facebookhttp://www.facebook.com/GingerVoight. And please drop a line to let me know what you think about the books. I love the feedback!
Sometimes book ideas come from the strangest places. MY IMMORTAL started with a comment made by, or to, my best friend of three decades, during one of our all-night IM-a-thons. We have logged numerous hours chatting with each other over the Internet to the wee hours of the morning, and it wasn’t uncommon for us to finally log off and go to bed when the sun came up. This night was no different. Someone made the comment, “We must have been vampires in a past life,” and that was all it took. Within a day I had crafted a complete plot around the idea: what would happen if a vampire had been reincarnated?
Sure, it works as a scary story. I personally find vampires especially frightening, which made writing the whole thing a test of my will. But something else began to emerge, something completely unexpected: this is a story that explores the timeless endurance of true love. The only reason I could see for a vampire to die in such a redeemed state that it would be reincarnated was if it sacrificed itself for the love of another. This became the driving theme behind the story, especially what we would be willing to sacrifice for those we love.
“If you love him, you will do it.”
By the time I wrote this story in 2005, I was on my second marriage. My two husbands were completely different: Daniel was the exciting one, the adventurous one, the dangerous one; Steven was (is) steadfast, loyal, and stable. I went from marrying my hero to marrying my best friend, but I truly believe an argument could be made they were both my soul mates.
My aforementioned best friend, Jeff, believes that we keep meeting our most important people in life after life, in significant ways. Maybe in a past life he was my brother or my father, and in this incarnation he is now my lifelong friend. Since I was exploring the idea of reincarnation anyway, I wanted to dig a little deeper into that concept, on how we continually meet up with the people we are meant to love.
Since I had lost Dan in 2003, the idea that he wasn’t really lost at all ended up being central to the love story of MY IMMORTAL, which makes it immensely personal.
This paranormal romance explored themes of sacrifice, but most importantly – redemption. I crafted my heroine as someone who was an emotional mess, so that she would have the most to redeem (and sacrifice) throughout her journey. Adele Lumas was so flawed, so imperfect and so broken that her weight never really was an issue upon first writing her. Later, after I decided to change her into a full-figured heroine, it dawned on me that what made a woman attractive hundreds of years ago would not be the same thing that makes someone attractive today. In this sense Adele is truly the most Rubenesque heroine I’ve written, even though she was never intended to be Rubenesque at all. The man who had spent centuries looking for her would find her more generous proportions his romantic ideal; even detractors to the Rubenesque genre couldn’t argue this. But honestly, changing the book wasn’t that difficult to do because her character is so complex that I never really focused on her appearance at all – which is how I choose to handle all my heroines outside the Rubunesque genre. If I don’t mention a size, then I don’t feel it’s worth mentioning.
We’re more than our sizes. That’s the moral I wish to impart with each and every book.
Trivia: I was inspired heavily by the song "My Immortal" to write this book, and in fact music came to mean so very much in the creative process. This is the second book where I actually had a long soundtrack to keep me motivated with the movie in my head. (The first was my first book, which has yet to be rewritten and published.)
You can read more about how personal a love note this story is for me here.
I have so much to be grateful for this Thanksgiving, thanks mostly to all my readers, reviewers and fans. You all took a chance on me, read my work and gave me honest and enthusiastic feedback. What's more, you shared it with others, who shared it with others still. One ripple led to another, which led to another, which still continues on in ways I had only hoped to see. Your passion for these stories and these characters inspires me and drives me to do better as I continue the series, and turn my focus to the future. It's just such an amazing process to witness and be a part of. I am both so rewarded and deeply humbled.
So along with my profound thanks, I'd like to offer holiday savings on some of my titles.
For Thanksgiving, I'm offering my paranormal romance, "My Immortal," for 30% off on Smashwords, using the coupon GQ57H at checkout all throughout Thanksgiving Day.
Starting Black Friday and running until Sunday, I will offer all my titles listed on All Romance Ebooks at 25% off. This includes the best-selling Groupie/Rock Star series.
For Free Reads Friday, I'm offering my Rubenesque Romance Sampler. This will give you some insight into these stories, as well as three sample champers of my Rubenesque titles.
Thanks again for reading. Happy holidays to you and those you love.
