As always, it’s up at Smashwords and ARe first. Will probably be up at Amazon and B&N tomorrow, but you can get your formats at either SW or ARe, if you’d rather not wait. Another fabulous photo by the awesome Taria Reed, and a knock your socks off cover design, by my better half. Y’all better have some.
Tag Archive: BWWM
When Lisa and I met seven or eight years ago (Has it only been seven or eight years Lisa? Somehow it seems much longer!) I tell people all the time that Lisa is the little sister I never had (and probably never wanted), though she actually acts like the big sister. It’s amazing that we met online and only met in person a few years ago. We had written both Given and Stolen before we were ever in the same room together! I love the way the internet makes such things possible!
Historicals were always my first love and I knew I wanted to write some, but i also love paranormals and saw no reason not to put them together. I wanted shape shifters and other beasties that are black and actually help, you know, black people. There are no slaves or magical Negroes in any of our books. In these books you see free black folk going in to rescue enslaved Africans and at least one cheetah shapeshifter ripping the throat out of slave catchers. And we’re not even going to talk about the antics of one pissed off bear and a crafty owl!
We loved these stories so much (and don’t worry, Matthew’s story and the raid on Harper’s Ferry, is coming) that we based our urban fantasy series, beginning with Rumors of Wars in the same magical system. I also love resistance movements, and to me the Underground Railroad was the most amazingly successful resistance movement in the history of mankind. All these passionate people working together to overthrow a system of terrorism and tyranny. Totally amazing and yeah, more than just a little bit sexy.
When we got the rights back to these books and my husband started working on the covers, I told him we wanted something amazing. Something that would literally take your breath away. And as always he came through spectacularly. Here are the blurbs for both stories, and as always, y’all better have some.
As a member of Eshu, those who can shift into any animal at will, Jacob Adams is used to knowing and getting what he wants. And when he meets Mary Katherine Day as they work together on the Underground Railroad, he not only knows that she’s going to be his wife, but he expects her to accept her fate willingly. A businesswoman of independent means, Mary Katherine has no interest in marrying, which to her mind is bondage only slightly less vile than the slavery she works so hard to help others escape. Jacob embarks on a campaign to lure her into his bed by awakening her virginal body to the delights to be found there. Though she struggles against her sensual nature, Mary Katherine eventually succumbs to the irresistible lure. Initially she’s convinced that they can maintain their sexual relationship without marriage, but it quickly becomes apparent that their passion is too intense to hide in such a small town and she is risking a horrible scandal that could destroy her life. Shortly after they’re married they are forced to confront ancient enemies and a secret that could ultimately destroy their relationship.
Despite the forces allied against her Grace Adams is determined to become a conductor on the Underground Railroad and also a doctor. She is Eshu, able to shift into any animal form at will, and she knows this ability will help her in her difficult missions. Then one tragic mistake alters the trajectory of her ambition. Grace has not only to demonstrate her ability as a conductor, but also to resist the sensual allure of her passion for Dr. Parker Quinn.
Parker is a stationmaster on the Railroad and resistant to the notion of a woman, especially his woman, engaging in such a dangerous undertaking. But her passion only makes him more determined to have Grace for his own, despite the scandal and the laws against miscegenation.
Although Grace loves him, she doesn’t want to marry. She knows the domineering Dr. Quinn will be even more restrictive than her father, but he won’t be deterred. It will take all of their passion and determination to survive social scorn and legal challenges while they make both their goals come true.
Yep, that’s all she wrote. IMO this is the funniest (and pithiest) review I’ve ever gotten. The disgust in her tone is so clear that I laugh every time I see that review. Do I agree with her? Nope, I don’t think I’ve ever written a dumb book. Certainly I’ve written some that were better than others, but to my mind Dark Star is an excellent book, but everyone is entitled to their own opinion.
And yes, I’ve gotten reviews that don’t make me laugh. Reviews that were mean spirited or inaccurate. I’ve even had authors send their flying monkeys after me. Some have pissed me off, and y’all know I can be hot headed, but I learned long ago that it’s unprofessional to respond to a review. Let alone the lengths that crazy woman in The Guardian article went to. I know it’s a common trope that we authors think of these books as our children. (Don’t ask me where that comes from, after all, we don’t sell our children! At least I hope not. To me it ranks right up there with that “I would write for free bullshit. No hell I wouldn’t!) But they are like our children in one way only; once we launch them into the world there’s nothing we can do about how the world receives them. It’s crucial that we as professionals recognize this fact, and, if nothing else, get some friends who will reign you in when the crazy strikes. Because, damn,
And no, this is never a good plan. I am working on the latest Pussycat Death Squad book, Pussycat in Peril. Astaria, whom you might remember from the first Pussycat Death Squad book is in a green card marriage with Kaeden, a Egyptian-American Marine. Kaeden has had feelings for Astaria almost from the beginning, but he doesn’t want her to be with him because she feels beholden, so he’s waiting until she gets citizenship before he speaks up. Then, she returns to her home country to rescue her family and disappears. In the middle of a revolution. A revolution that has cut the entire country off from the rest of the world. And of course, our hero has to go find her. This book is so much fun, especially in light of current events.
The other book I’m working on is Love Me Some Him. This is the long-promised book about Dare from Dark Star. Well, it starts soon after events in the Lion in Russia, so yes, Dare shows up at Tonya and Nate’s wedding with a black eye from being sucker punched by Leo in that story. And well, things go downhill from there. These two have got the Hillbilly Mafia, the Department and at least one prison gang hot on their tail. Chances of survival don’t look good.
Oh, and that big ass gun up there? That’s a British made Lapua Magnum .50 caliber rifle. With a confirmed kill from nearly 3000 yards, it’s favored by snipers everywhere and by Astaria, heroine of Pussycat in Peril and an accomplished sniper in her own right. She’s been known to keep it hidden under her burqa.
I think i’ve said repeatedly that Try a Little Tenderness is my favorite book. It’s the one book that combines most of my passions, sexy nerd scientist hero and viruses. Lots and lots of virus. In a different world, I would’ve been a scientist, or maybe a history-scientist. I absolutely love history and am fascinated with the impact disease has had on it. Many of the great sociological changes of the 20th century can be directly attributed to disease. Some even speculate that Woodrow Wilson had a mental collapse brought on by the effect of influenza which led to his inability to negotiate at the end of World War I. And, of course, we can all speculate that European expansion and colonialization of the New World wouldn’t have occurred had not disease wiped out 90% of the native population. Right now we are battling ebola and I’m watching closely with some trepidation, because ebola is not particularly “catchy,” yet we’re struggling to contain it. What with climate change we are going to encounter more deadly emerging viruses and our response has got to be more on point. With all that said, when I wrote Try A Little Tenderness six years ago I was hopeful that mankind will overcome as we alway have. I haven’t lost that optimism, but I am concerned. Here is an excerpt from my all time favorite book”
Lola grinned as she heard Koss’s bellow from down the hall. In fact she had no doubt their neighbors on the first floor had heard him as well. She shook her head. He’d been yelling off and on all morning. Why didn’t the man simply get a graduate assistant to help him with his notes? She’d never met anyone who hated to write as much as he did. Lola put down her textbooks to go find out what had set her cantankerous lover off this time.
“What’s going on?” she asked from the doorway of the study. Koss sat as his desk, staring absently into space. “Need some help?”
Koss looked up. “No, no. I’m just trying to get my notes organized.”
Lola walked over to look over his shoulder at the motley assortment of notes that littered his desk. For such a neat freak, he certainly seemed to take his lab notes on whatever scrap of paper he happened to find. Was that a gum wrapper? Damn! She shook her head as she picked up the sticky notes and at least one dry cleaning ticket. Undoubtedly for his one sport coat which he hadn’t been able to locate for the last faculty tea. And his handwriting. It didn’t look like anything produced by a human hand.
“I hope you have some kind of magic decoder ring for this. What the hell is that, by the way? Sanskrit?” At least now she understood why he hadn’t gotten anyone to help him. No point in driving a poor, unsuspecting graduate student over the edge. The curriculum was bad enough.
Koss picked up a stack of papers and began arranging them into a neater pile. “Are you here just to ride my ass, or did you want something in particular?” he snapped.
“Oh, I’m definitely here to ride your ass, but I think I can help. I’m a pretty good typist, and with a little effort I think I can make out those hieroglyphics you call handwriting.”
“Trust me, by the time you finish grad school, your handwriting will look like crap, too. Do you really think you can help? You’ve got your own classes ”
Lola rolled her eyes. “I’m taking one history class and an English class I should’ve taken years ago. I don’t think I’m in any danger of flunking out anytime soon. It’ll be cool. Your work is so interesting. I wish I’d been there when you were off in the field making these discoveries. It sure beats the hell out of reading some play about a guy who never shows up. Sounds too much like Ginger’s love life.”
Koss seemed to ponder the idea for a moment. “I could certainly use the help. Of course I’ll give you collaboration credit…”
“For what? Doing clerical work? Please! Besides, the last thing we want to do is draw attention to us. You could get into all sorts of trouble.” Lola shook her head vigorously.
“I already told you. I don’t give a damn about that. You’re not my student. And you’re unlikely to be my student for at least another year.”
“Actually, Koss, I could finish up in December. That’s why I’m getting these core classes out of the way. I’ve already applied for the grad program.” She shrugged. “I probably won’t get in, but I’ve applied.”
“You’re kidding? Why didn’t you tell me before?”
Lola bit her lip, uncertain herself why she hadn’t shared the news. “I don’t know. I guess I wasn’t sure I would be able to do it. I didn’t want to let you down. ”
“Lola, you’re not going to mess this up.” He pulled her into his arms. “You’re too smart for that.”
The gentle kisses eased all her fears. Too bad he couldn’t be there to kiss her twenty-four hours a day. She reached over to take his notes. Studying his penmanship ruefully, she shook her head in dismay. Apparently even the most brilliant people had to have some flaws.
Have you ever seen anything sexier in your life? I think I’m a bad influence on the hubby. Normally I come up with the concept for my book covers, and then we talk back and forth while he works out the deers. Well, he came up with this one all on his own and I couldn’t be more thrilled. The idea I initially had doesn’t even come close. Buttercream is a fun sexy read, and this cover captures it perfectly.
#interracial romance #bwwm #multicultural #military romance
This is one of my favorite books and I’m re-releasing on my own. It’s live now at Smashwords and ARe, both have the formats you’ll need for Kindle and Nook. As soon as it’s available at Amazon and B&N I’ll let you know.
I like their sons a lot and plan to pair them up in a New Adult story with Callie’s sisters from Rock Star.
Image from Taria Reed, and cover design by my fabulously talented husband, Whit Holcomb.
I know I say this every time, but this is my favorite cover. I told Whit I wanted Gabriel to look as though he was literally stepping off the Sistine Chapel ceiling, and damned if he didn’t nail it. I love my talented hubby so much.
Here’s the blurb and an excerpt for those who don’t remember it from before.
When Ryannon shows up on Gabriel’s doorstep claiming that he is an archangel with the power to trigger the Apocalypse and that he’s in danger from an End of Days cult he thinks she’s crazy — crazy hot — but still crazy. Despite being a trumpet player named Gabriel, the life he’s led has been anything but angelic, however he has no choice but to believe her especially since the cult is already in hot pursuit. He and Ryannon must go on the run to save themselves and dozens of others from the cult leader’s diabolical schemes. Even the desperate circumstances are not enough to dampen the fiery lust that pulls them together. Gabriel knows that Ryannon is the one for him, but he’s a player and always has been and Ryannon has no intention of being just another woman in his bed. Will they survive long enough to develop trust and find love, and somehow avoid inadvertently setting off the Apocalypse?
“No. No. Gabriel. I’m not a psychic, I’m a knower.”
“What the fuck is a… Wait. How did you know my name?”
She raised her hands, which caused the armload of bracelets she wore to jingle attractively. “Could we sit down? You don’t look so good, and…”
Gabriel gestured toward his battered sofa while he sat down in one of the mismatched chairs that flanked it. After ensuring the safety was engaged, he carefully placed the gun on the coffee table.
She nodded at the gun. “I’m glad you’ve got that. They’ll be back.”
“They who? Could you please tell me what you’re talking about?”
“The Redeemers are a cult.”
“You mean of the grape Kool-Aid, purple Nike variety?”
“I probably wouldn’t put it that way, but yeah, they’re a cult,” she said.
“And this pertains to me how?”
Ryannon leaned back on the sofa and crossed her legs, bringing Gabriel’s attention, which had been focused on the gamine beauty of her face, to her legs, and then he found he couldn’t look away. For such a tiny thing, her legs were surprisingly long and shapely, and set off by denim capris and wedge-heeled sandals, they all but made his mouth water. The light cotton blouse she wore over the capris was belted, emphasizing a tiny waist and small breasts.
“I suppose you could call the Redeemers a doomsday or End of Days cult. Their name is The Church of Jesus Christ With Redemption to Come.”
Gabriel sighed. “Ryannon, as much as I’m enjoying this conversation, not to mention the opportunity to check you out, I had a less than stellar night last night, and I had really looked forward to spending my day in bed making love to my ice pack. Now unless you want to take its place, could we please just get to the point?”
“They think you’re an apocalyptic trigger.”
Gabriel closed his eyes. No way in hell did he want to hear the rest of this bizarre story. She was batshit crazy, but also crazy-hot. He sighed. Why was that always the way? The hotter they were, the crazier they were. After a moment, he opened his eyes again. It wouldn’t be the first time his cock got him into trouble. If worse came to worst, he could always duct-tape her mouth.
“Do I want to know what the hell an apocalyptic trigger is?”
“They think you will signal the End of Days.”
Gabriel laid his head back on his chair. “See, you name a trumpet player Gabriel, and folks get all kinds of crazy ideas.”
“They want you to bring on the final battle of Armageddon.”
He couldn’t help but laugh. “So my mom is right. I am the Antichrist.”