Thursday, 30 June 2016

Release Day Blitz - The Little Antique Shop Under the Effiel Tower byRebecca Raisin




Book Information
Title: The Little Antique Shop Under the Eiffel Tower
Author: Rebecca Raisin
Series: The Little Paris Collection, Book 2
Standalone?: Yes
Release Date: July 1, 2016
Genres: Contemporary Romance
Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers

Summary

Escape to Paris this summer and prepare to be swept off your feet…

Anouk LaRue used to be a romantic, but since she had her heart well and truly broken her love life has dissolved into nothing more than daydreams of the perfect man. Retreating to her extraordinary Little Antique Shop has always been a way to escape, because who could feel alone in a shop bursting with memories and beautiful objects…
Until Tristan Black bursts into an auction and throws her ordered world into a spin.
Following your heart is a little like getting lost in Paris – sometimes confusing and always exciting! Except learning to trust her instincts is not something Anouk is ready to do when it comes to romance, but the city of love has other ideas…

Watch out for more in The Little Paris Collection

1. The Little Bookshop on the Seine
2. The Little Antique Shop under the Eiffel Tower
3. The Little Perfume Shop off the Champs-Élysées

Book Links
Amazon US: https://amzn.com/B00W7Y9VQG
Amazon UK: http://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B00W7Y9VQG
iTunes: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/little-antique-shop-under/id1022781469?mt=11
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/25371094-the-little-antique-shop-under-the-eiffel-tower

Author Biography


Rebecca Raisin is a true bibliophile. This love of books morphed into the desire to write them. She’s been published in various short story anthologies and in in fiction magazines, and is now focusing on writing romance.

Rebecca aims to write characters you can see yourself being friends with. People with big hearts who care about relationships, and most importantly believe in true love.
Come and say hello to Rebecca on her Facebook page or Twitter.

Social Networking Links
Website: http://www.rebeccaraisin.com/
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6915386.Rebecca_Raisin
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/RebeccaRaisinAuthor
Twitter: https://twitter.com/jaxandwillsmum
Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/rebeccaraisin/



Friday, 24 June 2016

Excerpt - Last to Die by Arlene Hunt

He watches. He waits. He kills...


When Jessie Conway survives a horrific mass high school shooting, in the aftermath she finds herself thrust into the media spotlight, drawing all kinds of attention. But some of it is the wrong kind.

Caleb Switch, a sadistic serial killer, has been watching her every move. A skilled hunter, he likes his victims to be a challenge. Jessie is strong, fearless, a survivor, and now… she is his ultimate prey.

As Caleb picks off his current victims one by one, chasing, killing and butchering them with his crossbow, he’s closing in on Jessie... But will Jessie defy the odds and escape with her life? Or will she be Caleb’s final sacrifice …

A clever, dangerously twisted thriller that will have fans of Tess Gerritsen and Karin Slaughter gripped until the very last page.

What readers are saying about Last to Die:


'Absolutely relentless in pace ...I became totally immersed in Last to Die. It's a story of survival and there was certainly plenty of tension and suspense to keep me reading late into the evening.' The Book Review Cafe

'A great thriller that is extremely well written and will keep you on the edge of your seat while giving you food for thought. Highly recommended.'Bloomin Brilliant Books

'Oh my! The tension builds and builds. What a powerful and edge of your seat ride!'The Book Club

'This is an astonishing thriller of mammoth proportions and I cannot praise it highly enough!'Little Bookness Lane

'This book needs to be finished in one sitting ...Jessie had a lot of grit and was a strong main character. Caleb was a true sociopath. Put these two characters together and you are in for a real treat. My first book by this author and definitely it won't be my last. Highly recommend reading this. But clear your calendar because you won't be moving until you finish.' Laura's Book Reviews

'Caleb is one amazing character and really showed just what evil could be like. Truly a great book and I will definitely be reading more from this author.' Sean's Book Reviews

'This very intense pychological thriller is among the best of the genre I've read so far - and I've read a lot. I'm not easily scared or shocked by books anymore, but this one got under my skin.'Reading Experience

'A very fast-paced psychological thriller'Swirl and Thread

'A taut, sharp, gripping reimagining of the serial-killer novel.' Tana French

previously published as 'The Chosen'


LAST TO DIE
By Arlene Hunt

Chapter 1
Jessie Conway fanned herself ineffectually with her hand and wished for the umpteenth time that the relentless heat would let up a little. She was thirty-eight years old, tall but evenly proportioned, with shoulder-length hair, the shade of which was the envy of every bottle red-headed woman in Rockville.
‘Miss Conway?’
‘What can I do for you, Riley?’
‘It’s really hot. I’m really hot. It’s really hot today.’
‘Would you like me to open the window, Riley?’
He nodded.
‘Use your words please.’
‘Open the window.’
‘What else should you say?’
Riley scrunched his face, thinking. Jessie waited while he figured it out. Riley was fourteen and one of the smarter pupils in her class. Certainly, he had the potential to live some kind of productive life when he left school behind. Manners were crucial in this. Jessie hoped the universe treated him a little better in the future than it had thus far.
Please?
‘Very good, Riley.’
Jessie rose from her desk, crossed the room and grappled with the sash window. Despite being pretty strong, she could barely raise it an inch. This section of Rockville High was old and in need of care and attention. Something it rarely received.
‘That child is never happy unless he’s complaining about something,’ Tracy Flowers, her Teaching Assistant muttered, sliding in beside Jessie to help her wrestle with the window.
‘He’s right though, it is hot.’
‘Don’t see how this will help; it’s as hot out there as it is in here.’
Tracy was twenty-four years old. She had joined Rockville High the previous September and was without doubt the best Teaching Assistant Jessie had ever worked with. She liked to grumble, but she was tough, kind and, most importantly, she was scrupulously fair with the children. That day she was wearing a yellow sundress the colour of buttercups. Jessie thought it looked very pretty and would have liked to have said so, but Tracy did not take a compliment well and she did not enjoy people drawing attention to her.
Between them, they managed to force the window up by about a foot. Jessie leaned her hands on the ledge, savouring the slight breeze and the comforting drone of a lawnmower somewhere in the distance. It truly was a beautiful June day.
Only one more week until the holidays, she thought, smiling. She wondered if Mike, her husband, had called the realtor on the rental cabin like he had said he would that morning. Knowing Mike, he had probably forgotten. She decided she’d call him during recess to remind him.
As she turned back towards the class, Jessie caught a glimpse of a dark green Toyota cruising slowly along the ring road that encircled the campus. The windows were tinted and closed tight. Air conditioning, Jessie thought, something else the school board claimed they could not afford to repair. The car slowed, turned into the main parking lot normally reserved for staff and disappeared from view.
Jessie moved away from the window and went to help a sweet-natured girl named Martha Fisk stick glue to the card she was working on. Martha’s tongue jutted out to the side as she concentrated on her task. There was glitter just about everywhere.
‘This is very pretty, Martha.’
‘Uh-huh.’
‘Who are you making this for, your mom?’
Martha shook her head.
‘Your sister?’
She nodded.
‘Well it’s very—’
‘Uh-oh.’
Jessie leaned over the child’s shoulder. Martha had glued six tinfoil stars to her card and one to the desk.
‘Uh-oh. Uh-oh.’
‘That’s okay Martha. We can peel it off. It’s okay. Look.’ Jessie lifted the star and wiped the tiny smudge of glue with her thumb. ‘See, all gone.’
Martha offered Jessie a painful, pathetic grin. Her gratitude broke Jessie’s heart. Martha was missing her front teeth. No one had ever received a satisfactory answer from her about what had happened to them, only that they had been gone a long time and she didn’t like talking about it. Questions put to Martha’s mother, the only time she had bothered to show up to a parent teacher meeting, had been met with a bored shrug. ‘Probably she banged ’em. You see how she is, that damn kid’s always fallin’ and floppin’ all over the place.’
‘Miss Conway?’
‘What can I help you with, Austin?’
‘I need to go pee, Miss Conway.’
Jessie pointed to the big plastic clock hanging behind her desk.
‘See the big hand, Austin? Remember we talked about this? When that big hand reaches the number six you can go.’
‘I need to go real bad, Miss Conway.’
‘Tracy, would you show Austin to the bathroom?’
‘Sure. Come on, Austin.’
‘I don’t want her to go,’ Austin said, shrinking back from Tracy. ‘I don’t want her.’
Tracy’s expression remained neutral; she was used to this reaction, but Jessie felt a flash of anger and shame. Austin’s father disliked and mistrusted ‘coloreds’ and was more than happy to say so to anyone who might listen. He spent much of his limited time outside prison terrifying his youngest son with stories about what the ‘coloreds’ might like to do with soft, small-boned boys like Austin, should they get the chance.
‘Austin,’ Jessie said, ‘remember we spoke about this? You do not shout in class – if you shout in class you will lose your yard privileges.’
‘I heard you.’
‘Do you still want to go to the bathroom?’
Austin looked at her sulkily and shook his head. He bent to his work, pink with temper and Tracy went on about her business, stoical.
Jessie glanced at the clock again. She would be glad when this day was over. On paper, Jessie’s pupils were described as ‘marginalised’, which was nothing more than politically correct claptrap for ‘extremely messed up’. Most of the children in Jessie’s class were the product of appalling neglect, both mental and physical, and abuse, also both mental and physical. They were the children of alcoholics and drug-addicted parents, of parents who spent half their lives in jail, the rest of the time trying to spend their welfare on booze, weed and crystal meth. That was if they even had parents to speak of. Many of Jessie’s pupils were being reared by their grandparents; sad, tired, ill-equipped people whose hearts were in the right place, even if they did not have the wherewithal to help their grandchildren in ways other than to feed and house them.
Jessie lifted a pop-up picture book from under a desk and slotted it into what they romantically called ‘the library’, though it was little more than two shelves of tattered books bought and paid for by the profits from fundraisers and raffles. The bell finally rang. Her pupils collected their belongings and hustled their way to the door. Some said goodbye; most did not.
‘What a day,’ Tracy said, when the last child left. ‘I swear, I don’t think I can face another week of this.’
‘Nobody ever said Special Ed was easy,’ Jessie said, tying her dark red hair into a ponytail.
‘No, I guess they didn’t.’
Jessie rested her hand on Tracy’s shoulder. ‘You’re doing great.’
Tracy offered her a wry smile that said she thought differently. ‘I’m going to go get some strong coffee. You coming?’
‘Be with you in a few minutes. Save me a dessert if there is any. I think I heard talk of Key lime pie earlier.’
‘Aw man, how can you eat that stuff and never put on a single pound? If I even look at pie my hips expand.’
‘It’s a secret; if I told you I’d have to kill you.’
Tracy laughed and left.
Jessie wiped the board clean and began to write up the assignments for the next class. When she finished, she picked up her handbag and was about to exit the room when she heard popping sounds. They were loud and they were close.
Jessie opened the door and stepped out. Children milled about the hall, a number of them looked curious.
‘What’s going on?’ Jessie asked a heavily built boy she recognised from eight grade.
‘Dunno.’
The freckle-faced girl with him looked scared. ‘Sounds to me like gunfire.’
‘Nah, no way,’ the boy said. ‘Probably a cherry bomb or some shit.’
Then the fire alarm went off, filling the halls with deafening wails.
‘Okay, okay,’ Jessie clapped her hands to get attention. ‘You know the drill. Everybody make their way outside to the basketball courts. No running, no shoving please. Nice and easy now. Use the nearest exit please.’
Jessie pushed her way through the children and followed the corridor until she reached the main foyer. Rockville High was a single-storey building, built around this double-height space, off which were four ‘wings’. To Jessie’s immediate left was the staff room and to her right the cafeteria. Children spilled into the space from three separate hallways. Some of them laughed and hooted, others seemed more anxious. There were a number of students by the lockers opposite the cafeteria doors, changing books and emptying contents into backpacks as though the alarms were not going off at all.
Jessie caught sight of Adam Edwards, the Vice-Principal, striding to the foyer from the B wing. He was trying to get people to make their way to the A Wing, pleading with them to remain calm and to move quickly but without running. Jessie was puzzled as to why he was not shepherding them towards the main doors. She turned her head and saw that there was a chain strung through both door handles, with a heavy padlock hanging from it. She immediately made her way towards the Vice-Principal.
‘What’s going on?’
‘I don’t know. I was in the science lab. Someone said there was shooting. When I got down here the front doors were chained.’ He leaned in closer and whispered, ‘So is the fire exit by the bike shed.’
‘Do you think this is real?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Are all the doors locked?’
‘I don’t know. Principal Carmichael is checking the C Wing. I think we should get everyone outside.’
‘What can I do?’
‘You can help me get everyone outside and accounted for.’
She could see he was struggling to keep his voice calm. This alarmed her. Edwards was a tall man, good-natured but serious at the best of times and not one for panicking. More children were streaming in to the foyer. Jessie noticed the group she had spoken to outside her classroom.
‘I thought I told you to go outside,’ she said to the girl with the freckles.
‘The doors are locked. Someone locked them with a chain.’
Edwards raised his hands over his head.
‘Everyone, listen to me now. Stop pushing and slow down. Make your way to the rear emergency exit in a calm and orderly fashion. Come on now. I want everybody to move outside please. Everyone make their way to the basketball courts, nice and slowly. Miss Conway, can you make sure the cafeteria is empty?’
‘Sure.’ Jessie began to walk towards the cafeteria, but as she did, one of the swing doors opened and a tall youth she recognised as Kyle Saunders stepped out. He carried a semiautomatic weapon dangling from a long strap across his chest. Adam Edwards saw him; his eyes widened in surprise. He reacted fast. He grabbed the nearest child to him and shoved her towards a hallway.
‘Go!’
Kyle Saunders raised the gun. His face was shiny and his lips were peeled back over his teeth. His eyes roamed over the teeming foyer.
‘Hey maggots! Yo! Maggots, remember me?’
‘Kyle—’ Edwards put out his hands out before him, chest high. ‘Put the gun down, Kyle. Put it down now. We can talk about this.’
Kyle stared at Edwards for a moment, smiling a weird smile. Jessie could see some doubt come into Edwards’ eyes.
‘Kyle, listen to me now—’
Kyle opened fire.
The first spray of bullets took out the glass bricks that ran the length of the wall above the lockers. Children ran screaming in every direction. Some fell and were trampled; others flattened themselves against walls, covering their heads with their hands as though this might save them. One or two stood and stared, rooted to the spot in disbelief.
The second burst of gunfire was lower. A piercing scream was cut short. A round hit Edwards directly in the chest, spinning him where he stood. He took a step and dropped to the floor.
Jessie stared at Alan Edwards’ body, her face frozen, unable to comprehend what had happened.
Alan.’
She took a step forward but blood was beginning to pool under him and his fingers were scrabbling for purchase on the tiled floor. Behind him, another boy lay twisted and broken, his backpack still on his shoulders.
Kyle Saunders threw back his head and whooped. He was still howling when Jessie Conway slammed into him at speed. The force of the impact sent Kyle crashing through the swing doors of the cafeteria, with Jessie practically on top of him. They smashed into a table, toppled over it and hit the ground hard.
Jessie recovered first. She slammed her knees into Kyle’s stomach and ripped the strap over his head. Before he knew what had happened, she grabbed the gun. She felt the heat of the muzzle blister the skin on her fingers, smelled cordite and sweat from Kyle’s body. She threw all her weight backwards, bracing hard against his gut, screaming as she leaned away.
Kyle was too strong and managed to reclaim his grip on the gun. He wrenched it free and snapped the stock up towards the side of Jessie’s head. He clouted her with it, but she twisted her body to one side just before he could land a full blow. Kyle scrambled to get his feet under him. Jessie rose first; she shouldered him and wedged her body between him and the gun. Spittle sprayed the side of Jessie’s face as Kyle tried to ram the gun up under her chin. She held on doggedly, keeping the weapon as close to her body as she could, the muzzle pointed up and away from her.
They tussled back and forth. Kyle loosened one hand and punched her in the back, above her kidney. In desperation, Jessie stamped down on Kyle’s foot and tried to get her shoulder into his chest and force his grip to break over her shoulder.
Nothing worked.
She kicked and kicked, aiming her heel for any spot she could reach. She landed a bone-crunching snap on his shin but Kyle punched her again, and this time it hurt, badly. Jessie’s grip began to fail. She tried one last desperate swing. As she twisted, she saw another boy standing on a table at the far side of the cafeteria near the drinks machine. He was slender and young, with a thin wispy moustache he had not yet grown into. He was dressed head to toe in black. All these things Jessie registered in the blink of an eye. There was one more detail.
He had a shotgun trained on them.
‘Shoot her!’ Kyle Saunders screamed. ‘Shoot the fucking bitch!’
There was a deafening blast. Jessie felt pain along the left side of her face seconds before she collapsed under Kyle Saunders’ full weight.
The gun was now in her hands and she blindly raised it and fired towards where she thought the other boy might be. Through the smoke, she saw him fall backwards off the table and drop out of sight.
Jessie lay still, dazed. Kyle Saunders’ lower body was twisted across her hips. She turned her head and saw that he was dead. There was nothing left of his head but a mass of bloody scalp and glistening bone fragments. Jessie’s ears fizzed and rang. She lowered the gun to the floor, crawled out from under Kyle and sat up. Blood spilled onto her chest and lap. She blinked at it uncomprehendingly. By the time she got to her feet and staggered across the floor her shirt was saturated. She fell down and landed close to two terrified girls huddled beneath an overturned table. She recognised their faces but could not remember their names.
‘Get out of here.’
The girls cringed, and huddled against each other. One of them mouthed something but Jessie could not decipher the words.
Go.’
They fled.
Jessie crawled across the floor to where the boy had fallen.
He lay on his back, panting. The shotgun was off to his right, out of range. One arm rested across his chest, the other curled by his side. The front of his shirt was slick with blood. His eyes were open and as she moved closer they clicked around to her.
‘Oh,’ Jessie whispered when she saw the damage she had inflicted.
He smiled, in reality a terrible grimace. A bubble of frothy blood appeared at the corner of his mouth, popped, and was replaced by another. Jessie leaned all her weight on her right hand and took his left hand in hers.
‘Why did you do this?’
But he did not answer and after a moment his eyes lost focus, his chest stopped moving and he was gone.
Jessie stared at him. She tried to stay upright, but could not summon the strength. She sank to the floor beside the dead boy and wiped the blood from her eyes. She saw Tracy Flowers lying by the drinks machine. She had lost a shoe and the back of her yellow sundress was drenched in blood.
Jessie wanted to go to her but could not. She vomited, closed her eyes and finally darkness took her.

Excerpt - Storn Child by Sharon Sant

Storm Child
by Sharon Sant
Genre: YA FANTASY
Release Date: 21ST April 2016
Publisher: Lightfoot Press
In a Victorian era where the industrial revolution has been replaced by superstition and magic, Britain is a place where wolves roam freely and children with magic are snatched from the streets. This is home for thirteen-year-old witch, Annie and her baby sister, Georgina. When their mother dies, Annie and Georgina find themselves saved from the workhouse by the mysterious Ernesto Black. But Black’s motives are far from pure and soon Annie faces new, even more dangerous threats. What does Ernesto want from Georgina? And can Annie trust the other teenagers living with Ernesto: Polly, who has her eye fixed firmly on inheriting Ernesto’s fortune and will do anything to make sure she gets it, and the charming Isaac, who would do anything to win Polly’s affections – legal or not.

Fearing for Georgina’s safety, Annie is faced with a terrible choice: she can try to guard her sister from the ever-present threat of Ernesto, or she can leave the child out in the wilds of the New Forest in the hope she’ll be found and taken in by a new family, ignorant of her powers. Annie chooses to leave Georgina’s future to chance and steals her away from Ernesto’s house in the dead of night.

But Annie’s troubles are far from over as her actions set in motion a chain of events that will take her and Georgina into danger she could never imagine. This danger drags country girl, Charlotte Harding into the fray and threatens every one of the teenagers, and it leads them right into the heart of the powerful organisation responsible for the assassination of Queen Victoria, an organisation that wants only one thing: Hell on Earth – quite literally…

FROM THE BEST SELLING AUTHOR OF THE MEMORY GAME AND THE SKY SONG TRILOGY, STORM CHILD IS BOOK ONE OF THE STORM CHILD TRILOGY.
Excerpt
The basket the girl carried was almost as large as her and she gasped as she stumbled, nearly dropping it.  It had been dragged on a stolen handcart along dark, silent roads until she reached the edge of the heath. The cart was useless on the dense undergrowth here and now she walked with her precious cargo, crooning to it as she laboured under its weight. 
Biting back tears, she took one last look around.  Her gaze returned to the lights of the tiny house.  Was this close enough?  Would the basket be found?  What would happen if it wasn’t?  But the girl had no choice.  The alternative was a fate far, far worse. 
She opened her mouth and clear, high notes rang out across the darkened terrain.  A few moments passed, the girl singing in the darkness, until a shadow appeared on the horizon and crept towards her.  The wolf approached and bowed its head. 
‘Thank you,’ the girl said.  ‘You will protect her until she is claimed.  After that, your will is your own again.’
The wolf stared at the girl, as if in a trance.  Then it sat next to the basket and turned its eyes to the heath.


Buy Links




ABOUT SHARON SANT
Sharon Sant was born in Dorset but now lives in Staffordshire. Aged eight she wrote a poem about ET, which received the ultimate praise of being pinned onto the classroom wall, and from that moment on she knew she'd never stop writing. She graduated from Staffordshire University in 2009 with a degree in English and creative writing. She currently works part time as a freelance editor and continues to write her own stories. An avid reader with eclectic tastes across many genres, when not busy trying in vain to be a domestic goddess, she can often be found lurking in local coffee shops with her head in a book. Sometimes she pretends to be clever but really loves nothing more than watching geeky TV and eating Pringles.

Young adult novels Sky Song, The Young Moon and Not of Our Sky (the Sky Song trilogy), The Memory Game and Runners were all released in 2013 to glowing reviews. Dead Girl Walking followed in 2015 and she has a new trilogy planned for 2016, the first book of which, Storm Child, is due for release in April.

Sharon also writes children's fiction under the name of Summer Hopkiss.
To find out more you can follow her on twitter where she's always happy to chat: @sharonsant or find her on facebook. You can also go to her website: www.sharonsant.com
GIVEAWAY



Friday, 17 June 2016

Eating Bees in Bed (Dragon Tails Book 10) by Annette Blair

Blurb:

McKenna Greylock is in desperate need of a jack-of-all-trades to help turn her Victorian home into a bed-and-breakfast. She has a tight budget and ninety days to meet the building inspector’s approval—or the house will be repossessed and purchased by a duplicitous developer.

To McKenna’s surprise, the gorgeous Bastian Dragonelli not only possesses the speed, strength, and agility to get the job done, but he sets her soul ablaze with a fiery passion she’s never experienced. If McKenna can accept Bastian’s true nature—as a dragon warrior—she’ll find her life heating up in more ways than one…
REVIEWS
“Blair continues to delight and amaze her fans with her mystical tales and magnificent talent.” ~Reader to Reader Reviews
 I can’t wait to read another of Blair’s novels.” ~Romance Junkies
McKenna Greylock, still mourning the deaths of her mother and grandmother, is trying to fulfill a dream of turning the rundown family home into a bed-and-breakfast. When she hires Bastian Dragonelli, a handyman whose rudimentary grasp of English is hilariously literal, she does not suspect that he is a dragon warrior on a mission to save his brothers. Despite wanting to keep her distance, McKenna is curiously drawn to Bastian. Blair’s unusual paranormal features charming characters, rich relationships, an inviting community, and sensuous lovemaking, all rolled up in a rollicking good read." ~Diana Tixier Herald, Booklist 
"Forget the demons, give me the dragons! Full of suspense, humor, and romance, this novel is sure to please any paranormal or fantasy fan. For anyone who read the author's previous novels, you will be treated to a cameo or two ... one more way the author makes her stories special. Annette Blair is one in a billion!" ~Detra Fitch, Huntress Reviews

“A laugh-out-loud read. It is in her characters that Blair’s talent shines. Their dialogue sparkles so much you’ll need sunglasses.” ~Ann, formerly of Scribesworld

If you love paranormal romance, if you love good conquering evil, if you love dragons, goofy faeries, and the like, you will love this book… Annette Blair never fails to make me want more. When can I get the next one Ms. Blair? Tomorrow is not too soon. ~Doni, Romance in the Backseat

Blair's first story in [this] series introduces wonderfully magical dragon men. The adjustments the hero must make to fit into this modern world are delightfully handled, and the main characters' interactions with each other, and those around them make for a fun and enjoyable escape from reality. HOT. ” ~Susan Mobley, RT

A highly entertaining magical read. Annette Blair once again proves why she’s on my auto buy list. Everything I have ever read by this author has a place on my keeper shelf. I can’t wait to see where she takes this series next. I have to admit, I cried at the end. A truly heartfelt sigh worthy ending. I highly recommend this book to all lovers of magic and true love. ” ~Chere Gruver, ParaNormalRomance

 Dear Reader,

I've been gobsmacked! I hit the New York Times Bestseller List last year! Talk about a milestone. Hugs and thanks for making this possible. I could never have done it without you.

It's been seven years since I left my job as a Development Director at a New England Prep School to become a full time writer, and I am still loving the daylights out of it.

I didn't always know I wanted to be a writer, but I discovered Jane Eyre soon after I got my first library card. I was eleven and put a romantic spin on every story I read. I wrote romances about friends and their boyfriends. Racy stuff for which my friends' mothers did not thank me.

When my children were young, I jotted plot ideas on corners of envelopes, recipe cards, and such, and threw them in my nightstand. After discussing a romance novel with my teenaged daughter, she challenged me to write one of my own. That day, I sorted through my plot ideas, picked one, and started. I didn't know what I was doing, but I had a good time. Then I made my first sale.

As a writer, I've journeyed to Regency England; Victorian Amish America, twenty-first century Salem, Massachusetts, Newport, Rhode Island, and Mystic, Connecticut. I started by falling in love and now I'm solving mysteries. I've befriended a host of sassy, sexy witches who tantalize and torment the dishy men in their lives.

Hopefully, those same characters, witches and rogues alike, will make some magic for you.

My books are available in ebook, trade paperback, mass market paperback, and audio book formats. Recently I re-released The Rogues Club, a series of Regency Historical Romances. UNDENIABLE ROGUE, UNFORGETTABLE ROGUE, UNMISTAKABLE ROGUE & UNTAMABLE ROGUE They're Unputdownable.

After the Rogues came the Scoundrels: SEA SCOUNDREL, CAPTIVE SCOUNDREL, PROPER SCOUNDREL & HOLY SCOUNDREL, all available for your reading pleasure.

My all-time favorite authors are Agatha Christie, Jane Austin and Charlotte Bronte.
To hear about contests and new books: 
A NOTE TO READERS:
EATING BEES IN BED is a new and improved version of Naked Dragon. One minor character was replaced by another from my backlist so as not to use characters from books still owned by Random House. This is a STEAMY Contemporary Romantic Fantasy. I did a complete rewrite, making improvements, guided by many of the critiques I found in your reviews. It has been re-edited by a professional. A sincere thank you to my wonderful readers who took the time to review the original with positive reinforcement and constructive criticism.