March 31, 2014

Goddess Fish Promotions: Marilyn Vix -- Never Marry a Warlock (Review)

Never Marry a Warlock
by Marilyn Vix



Catherine walks in on her husband in bed with her best friend. What is a woman to do? It helps that she is a witch. Unfortunately, so is her husband. Before you can say spell battle, Catherine hightails it up the coast of California to clear her head. Lucky for her, she finds an Aussie hitchhiker. She's going to have to face her husband in the awaiting spell battle. Can she have a little fun with her new found boy toy, or will he get scorched in the foreplay?


Chapter 5 pg. 21

Throwing money on the table, I grabbed his hand and pulled him from the booth. I led him to the elevator.

What did you have in mind?” He hit the button and leaned toward me.

You’ll have to wait and see.” I leaned into his neck and whispered into his ear. “Keeps you guessing.”

Do I get three guesses?” he whispered back.

Yes, but you only have until the elevator arrives,” I said, looking at the elevator count down the floors as it came down to pick us up.

Is it bigger than a bread basket?”

Yes.” I grinned, moving away to see if my bait was working, and looked back at the numbers. Four, three… Why was it taking so long? I hit the button to get it to move faster.

Is it smaller than a thimble?”

That depends on what you do with it.” I smiled at him, as he leaned closer to me again. I could feel his breath near the back of my neck as I still watched the elevator’s progress.

Is it something that needs a lot of rubbing?” He started to wrap his arms around my waist, grabbing me from behind.

You can think of yourself as Aladdin. I’m the lamp.”


Never Marry a Warlock by Marilyn Vix is a short, fun story. Perfect to spend an enjoyable hour with.
I really liked the concept of Warlocks and Witches only marrying for one year and then having to decide whether they want to renew their vows or not. I'd have liked to know a bit more about the world, Catherine, the heroine of the story, lived in.
The story consists of Catherine breaking off with her husband, Rich, after she found him in bed with her best friend. She drives around, wanting to bring as much space between them as possible, and picks up a hitchhiker. Attraction sparks between her and the Aussie hitchhiker, and I liked the connection between them.
The story ended on an unexpected twist and I'm hoping the sequel will answer some open questions.

Overall I'm rating Never Marry a Warlock at 4 stars (rounded up) and would recommend it to readers, who like a fast-paced short story.


AUTHOR Bio and Links:

Marilyn is a debut paranormal romance novelist. She enjoys the characters that just don't fit in. From witches to time traveling researchers, she is letting her imagination soar to explore new worlds. Marilyn has traveled to Paris, London, Sydney, and Munich. She loves to include these in her settings. Best of all is letting her readers enjoy her adventures through the perspective of a character. She currently lives in Northern California with her husband and cat. The cat, of course, is the center of attention.

Official Website:


Marilyn will be awarding a $25 Amazon GC to a randomly drawn commenter during the tour, and a $25 Amazon GC to a randomly drawn host.

 Follow the tour and comment to increase your chances of winning. The tour dates can be found here:  

March 27, 2014

Julie Lynn Hayes: Yes, He's My Ex

Please welcome my good friend Julie Lynn Hayes back to the blog. Julie brought us an excerpt of her quirky upcoming release from Dreamspinner Press, Yes, He's My Ex.


They don’t make comedies like they used to.
Nowadays, you don’t see comedians like the Marx Brothers, or WC Fields, or the Keystone Cops. Groucho Marx could elicit belly laughs just by the way he rolled his eyes or waggled his thick painted-on eyebrows. The Keystone Cop films were famous for their chase scenes—just good old-fashioned fun—while Harold Lloyd swung perilously off the end of a clock hand.
As a kid, I watched the Marx Brothers and WC Fields, Joe E Brown and Mae West. One of my favorite scenes in the Marx Brothers many hilarious films comes from A Night at the Opera. The boys are in their stateroom on the ocean liner, and it’s one of the most famous comedy sequences ever in which any number of people end up inside this tiny stateroom, and you sit in the audience wondering who else can possibly fit.
There were also romantic comedies too, films like Jimmy Cagney in Boy Meets Girl, in which he presents the formula for every love story ever told: boy meets girl, boy loses girl, boy gets girl. Of course, it’s fun to turn that trope around and change it to: boy meets boy, boy loses boy, boy gets boy. Because two men in love? You can never go wrong, right?
I loved Doris Day as I was growing up, and she made some very funny romantic comedies. In one, she was dragged out of bed by an irate Rock Hudson and carried through the streets in her pajames to the scene of the crime—the bachelor pad she had so viciously “decorated” for him, thinking he was nothing more than a playboy on the
make. In another film, The Glass Bottom Boat, Doris got a job with the Space Agency and met a handsome astrophysicist, played by Rod Taylor, who took a liking to her, but the suspicious people at NASA thought Doris was a Russian spy, and things just went crazy from there... Of course, all’s well that ends well. You can’t very well have a romantic comedy that ends badly, that makes it a tragedy, doesn’t it?
That’s what I’ve tried to do with Yes, He’s My Ex. It started out as a flash fiction on my blog, a simple story about an ex-boyfriend who couldn’t seem to get it through his thick head that they were over. But then things began to happen. A cry for help leads Tim into a race to save Sonny. Goofy gangster, a dumb ex-boyfriend, and the FBI... what else can happen to Sonny and Tim? Read Yes He’s My Ex and find out!
Thanks for having me here today, it’s been fun!

Dreamspinner buy link:

Sometimes Sonny Scrignoli forgets he’s Tim Mansfield’s ex. He waltzes in and out of Tim’s apartment like he still lives there, driving Tim crazy. Is it really so hard to remember they’ve broken up? Then again, maybe Tim should quit having sex with him.

When Sonny disappears for two weeks, Tim can’t help but be concerned. A strange phone call and a mysterious cry for help leads Tim on a desperate search for his ex.

Sonny’s in big trouble, and it’s Tim to the rescue! He’s the only one who can save his ex from a fate worse than death. Bumbling gangsters, a thick-headed former boyfriend, and secretive FBI agents lead Tim and Sonny on a merry chase full of laughs and quirks.

Sonny’s real name is Mario, but he’s been called Sonny since he was a small bambino, as his mother puts it, so Sonny it is. Sonny stands almost six foot tall in his bare feet, which are surprisingly small for a man, almost dainty. He has chocolate brown hair that grows thick but not long, and generally looks tousled; blue eyes so dark that sometimes they look purple in the proper light, framed behind silver wire spectacles; a generous nose and wide sweet lips which have been known to give the most amazing head this side of anywhere. Put that with the body of an Adonis, and you have Sonny.
I had Sonny, but not anymore. He seems not to realize that, though. At least not most of the time. Hence the part where I see him more often than should be considered normal for someone who’s my ex. Which is where I began.
Sometimes I think he forgets that he has indeed attained that past participle ex-boyfriend status. Granted, it’s only been six months. His mother tells me he just needs time to adjust, please don’t be too hard on her boy. Yes, I still see her too. On a rather regular basis, in fact. Hard not to, when she’s my mother’s best friend. Lucky me. Lia’s a nice lady, I love her to death. But she has this deep-seated belief that Sonny and I are going to get back together again, a belief he seems to share. Along with my mother. And most of our friends.
No one seems to listen to me when I say snowballs rolling along the floor of Hell have a better chance of survival than our relationship. Least of all Sonny. I guess that’s why he keeps coming over here, because in some strange deranged na├»ve corner of his mind, there’s still an us, and he isn’t an ex. So he wanders over whenever he wants. Sometimes he calls, sometimes he doesn’t. Today he called.
Sometimes I just get tired of telling him no. Some days I don’t even get that far. Today, I didn’t want to waste my breath, so I just said, “Fine. As long as you promise to behave.”
By behave, I mean quit assuming we’re going to have sex. Even if sometimes we do. I know, I know, he’s my ex, right?
Sometimes I just don’t know where to draw that fine line, I think. No wonder the boy’s confused.

Meet the author:
Julie Lynn Hayes was reading at the age of two and writing by the age of nine and always wanted to be a writer when she grew up. Two marriages, five children, and more than forty years later, that is still her dream. She blames her younger daughters for introducing her to yaoi and the world of M/M love, a world which has captured her imagination and her heart and fueled her writing in ways she'd never dreamed of before. She especially loves stories of two men finding true love and happiness in one another's arms and is a great believer in the happily ever after. She lives in St. Louis with her daughter Sarah and two cats, loves books and movies, and hopes to be a world traveler some day. She enjoys crafts, such as crocheting and cross stitch, knitting and needlepoint and loves to cook. While working a temporary day job, she continues to write her books and stories and reviews, which she posts in various places on the internet. Her family thinks she is a bit off, but she doesn't mind. Marching to the beat of one's own drummer is a good thing, after all. Her published works can be found at Dreamspinner Press, Amber Quill Press, MuseitUp Publishing, Torquere Press, and eXtasy Books, and coming soon to Wayward Ink Publishing and Prizm Publishing. She has also begun to self-publish and is an editor at MuseitUp.

You can find her on her blog at, and you can contact her at

My links:
Twitter @Shelley_runyon

March 26, 2014

Wednesday Briefs: Hope #25

Welcome to Wednesday Briefs, where authors post free fiction of 1000 words or less each week. I used the following prompt: “Why are you asking me these questions?”

Hope #25

Shane blinked at me from unfocused eyes, and I pretended nothing out of the ordinary had happened. Marisa played along, although her expression resembled a bust—cold and emotionless.
We're heading out now,” I said to Shane as I pulled at his ears. “We're going to get those dragon scales, so you can be human again.”
Shane lost all sleepiness. He wiggled in my arms, and his tail thumped against my belly in a frenzied motion. Despite the seriousness of the situation—and the light belly-ache I'd developed in the last few minutes—I smiled. I rubbed my nose in the fur at his neck and whispered, “You like that idea, don't you?”
He barked, and nudged his wet nose against my cheek. He followed this action with a few kisses of the moist variety.
Marisa and I exchanged a look that clearly expressed our feelings about each other. I wondered why she seemed so volatile. Was it me that brought this behavior out? Was it her usual attitude?
Do I need to take anything with me?” I asked.
Pack a rucksack with some food, and maybe a flashlight. Do you have any weapons?”
My jaw dropped. “Weapons? As in guns and things like that?”
Marisa nodded. “Guns, knives, anything you're comfortable with.”
Had she lost her mind? Me? Comfortable with weapons? Shane nudged my face and gazed at me from dark eyes. What if Marisa was right? What if Shane never cared about my safety? What if he wasn't the love of my life? What if...
I drew in a sharp breath. Why the hell did Marisa plant a seed of distrust in me? I couldn't, didn't want to believe Shane would ever jeopardize my life. That couldn't be. And yet there was this niggling thought—why didn't Shane come back to me earlier? Why did he leave me with the belief of his death for months?
I stamped on those unwelcome thoughts with all the power I could muster and said to Marisa, “I don't possess any weapons, but I'll pack a knife.”
Do you know how to use it?”
I shot her a glare. “No, I don't, but I bet Shane does. I'll hand it to him once he's back in human-form. Why are you asking me these questions?”
I'm hoping you'll see how absolutely hopeless your situation is,” Marisa replied.
A flash of heat surged through me, one so hot it was scalding. I pressed my lips together in a tight line to prevent myself from cursing. Not because I wanted to spare her feelings, rather because she was my only chance of getting us to... wherever it was we needed to go, so I could help Shane shift into a human again.
After counting to twenty, and enduring her relentless stare during the time it took me to come to the end of my counting, I asked, “Will you drive us?”
Her gaze flickered from me to Shane, then her shoulders slumped. “Yes. I'll be waiting in the car.”
I whirled around and stomped into the bedroom. There I set Shane on the floor and crawled under our bed to retrieve an old, battered rucksack. Shane bounced after me as I strode into the kitchen. I fetched a large butcher knife, which I wrapped into an old towel, and some food.
Marisa kept silent as we walked to her car. I slid into the passenger seat, put the rucksack between my feet, and patted my lap. Shane jumped onto it with an excited bark.
I glanced at our home as Marisa pulled onto the road. Would I ever come back?


Or you can visit us here:

March 21, 2014

Goddess Fish Promotions: Jerrie Alexander -- Cold Day In Hell

by Jerrie Alexander



Ex-Army Ranger Tyrell Castillo's first mission for Lost and Found, Inc. goes awry when his contact is kidnapped, and he's left scrambling for weapons and explosives. He'll have to blow up a drug cartel's compound, rescue the woman, and keep her safe while they cross the sweltering hot Colombian jungle.

Driven by the need for revenge, Ana Maria Vega Cisneros doesn't want to be rescued. She wants revenge. She'll risk her life to ensure the drug lord who killed her family suffers the same fate.

The cartel leaves a trail of blood on their hunt for Ty and Ana. When Ty receives the order to kill the drug lord with extreme prejudice, he and Ana will face the enemy head on. Can Ty protect the woman who's hell bent on vengeance? The woman he's grown to love?



He didn't have time to reason with her. And from what he'd seen so far, sweet-talking her was out. "I'm going to remove my hand. If you fight me, I'll tie and gag you. Got it?"

This time he got a full nod. The expression behind her eyes made him doubt her honesty.

"I don't have time to argue, so you'll have to trust that I'm the contact you were supposed to meet in Bogota." Cautiously, he lifted two fingers from her lips and waited to see if she complied.

"I know who you are," she hissed. "And you've ruined everything."

"Me? I think you've cornered the market on screw-ups." He quickly assessed her condition. Other than the bruise, she appeared to be unharmed. Long dark hair fell around her shoulders. She wore jeans and a T-shirt. All she needed was shoes, preferably a good pair of boots.

Damn, she was a little thing. Beautiful, bruised, and pissed. Protecting her as they crossed the sweltering jungle wasn't going to be easy. This woman was going to make the next few days a living hell.


AUTHOR Bio and Links:

A student of creative writing in her youth, Jerrie set aside her passion when life presented her with a John Wayne husband, and two wonderful children. A career in logistics offered her the opportunity to travel to many beautiful locations in America, and she revisits them in her romantic suspense novels.

But the characters went with her, talked to her, and insisted she share their dark, sexy stories with others. She writes alpha males and kick-ass women who weave their way through death and fear to emerge stronger because of, and on occasion in spite of, their love for each other. She likes to torture people, make them suffer, and if they’re strong enough, they live happily ever after.

The author of THE GREEN-EYED DOLL, THE LAST EXECUTION, SOMONE TO WATCH OVER ME, and HELL OR HIGH WATER, book 1 in the Lost and Found, Inc. Jerrie lives in Texas, loves sunshine, children’s laughter, sugar (human and granulated), and researching for her heroes and heroines.

Buy links:

Social media links:

 Jerrie will award a $50 Amazon GC to one randomly drawn commenter via the Rafflecopter below.

Follow the tour and comment to increase your chances of winning. The tour dates can be found here:

March 19, 2014

Wednesday Briefs: Hope #24

Welcome to Wednesday Briefs, where authors post free fiction of 1000 words or less each week. I used the following prompt: Do you think he’s/she’s going to be okay?” 

Hope #24

True to her word, Marisa needed several hours to call the right people, explain things in terms that gave me a headache, and eventually breathe, “You're set to go.”
Now?” I asked around a yawn. The day had passed without me really noticing. Nothing out of the ordinary here; that had been my default setting since Shane's death. I cast a swift look to the slumbering puppy in my arms. Still there.
I shifted Shane and he gave an annoyed grumble, but didn't wake up. We'd gotten something to eat a while ago, and obviously he was sated and at peace with the world. I wished I could say the same about my state of mind.
Do you think he’s going to be okay?” I asked. When Marisa raised an eyebrow, I added, “I mean, once he's back in human-form. Do you think he's going to be okay afterward?”
She expelled a long breath, which sounded rather ominous to my ears. People only emitted these strange, long breaths that sounded like a slowly deflating balloon, when they weren't sure how to react, or when they were annoyed.
Gil, Shane will never be okay. Someone tried to kill him.”
“Well, maybe someone should find those wannabe assassins and... and... I don't know. What do you usually do with these people? Throw them in jail? Jinx them?” I asked. What the hell was I talking about?
Marisa left me no time to question my sanity yet again. She said, “There are various options available.”
“Go on.”
“I'd rather not.”
“Because I'm such a delicate, little flower that can't deal with the harsh reality of... the magic world?” I bit out.
Her answer brought me up short. Blinking, I said, “You sure don't beat around the bush.”
“No, I don't.” The hint of a smile touched her lips. “It's been pointed out to me that I could do with a bit more tact.”
I think I agree with those people.”
I thought you might.” Her expression became serious, and she rested a hand on my forearm. “Gil, you're just a human, without any kind of power. I fear for your life.”
I swallowed. After clearing my throat several times, I replied, “Shane doesn't seem to worry, and I doubt he'd put me into danger willingly.”
Marisa's eyebrows knitted together closely. I guess that meant we weren't on the same page here. She supported my assessment when she said, “He lived with you, despite knowing what could happen. I'm not sure if your safety means anything to him.”
That remark stung. I got up, with Shane in my arms, just so she wouldn't see the effect her words had on me. I went to the window and peered out into the darkness. Twinkling silver stars littered the sky and gave it an atmosphere of serenity.
I didn't know why Marisa acted the way she did, but I had to decide whom I trusted more—her or Shane.
The answer came instantly. I pivoted on my heel, and with my head held high, I said, “How about we go now? We've wasted enough time already.”
Her expression hardened for a fraction, then she sighed again. She rose to her feet and asked, “In case you don't return, do you want me to call someone and inform them about your death?”
“Excuse me?” I gasped. “I don't intend to die!”
“No one does. It still happens.”
A million remarks lay on the tip of my tongue—none of them would be flattering for her. With heroic effort, I refrained from uttering them. Instead, I said in a cool voice, “That's gonna be my problem, not yours, right? At least I had the courage to do something, instead of just sitting back and playing devil's advocate.”
Shane, of course, woke up right at that moment.


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March 16, 2014

JC Wallace: Curiosity Killed Shaney

Hi, everyone! I want to thank Chris for inviting me! Curiosity Killed Shaney is my first published novel and I am thrilled to share this story with all of you.

This blog tour got huge fast! There are awesome prizes to that will be given away. At the end of this post, you will be a link to enter to win! Check in at for links to all of the blogs and you can enter as much as you like!

JC on Developing Curiosity Killed Shaney

First, can you tell us about your writing background?
When I was a kid, I wrote poetry and song lyrics and short stories. In my and very early twenties, I actually finished something like, three book length stories, but I never sought to publish. Those were focused on YA and definitely het in focus. When kids and college came, I put the writing away until a couple of years ago. My first submission was last September to Love Lane’s Christmas Delights Anthology, a short story called, Waiting for Snow, which was accepted and was well received.

We hear this is your first published novel. How did you come up with the concept for the story?
I get my ideas from everywhere and anywhere. Shaney started from the statement, “Someday your curiosity will get the better of you.” I have no clue if I heard someone say it or read it at the time, but I was prompted to write it in my idea file.

From there I used “What ifs...” to develop it further. Here is the original list I did for Curiosity Killed Shaney:

What if...?
  • You were curious to the point of doing things others wouldn't think to do
  • You had to figure out stuff no one cared about
  • People were tired of your curiosity and ignored it
  • What if it got you into trouble because you didn't think first
  • You were driven to curiosity - it was an addiction
  • your curiosity led you to discover you weren't who you thought you were
  • Your curiosity led you to find out people aren't who you thought they were
  • You found someone you thought was dead wasn't
  • People thought you had some weird kind of mental illness or were stupid because of it
  • You hurt a lot because of your curiosity
  • It’s not because of dares - no, it’s only what appeals to you
  • Your curiosity had brought you to the attention of the police
  • What if one of those police officers was hot and you embarrassed yourself in front of him and then puked on his shoes
  • What if you got to know him and then everything went to shit and he was the only one who believed you
  • You pay attention to things most people ignore - noises, strange people, events,

How did you come up with the title Curiosity Killed Shaney?
I would love to tell you how that came about but I can’t remember. I believe I chose the name Shaney first. One thing I do when developing a story plot is to think of the worst thing that could happen. In this scenario, I thought the worst would be if your curiosity actually killed you... kinda like that cat! So why not throw it in the title!

How did the story come to be published?
I had probably written half of it and had the rest pretty well plotted out in my head. I had joined many writing groups on Yahoo and found one that had pitch days for stories. I did a synopsis and pitched it to a publisher who told me they didn’t take partial manuscripts. That post was seen by someone at R&P who sent me a message telling me to submit my synopsis and the first three chapters so I did. Within 2 days, Viktor emailed me contract. Then I got nervous because I had to finish it! Which I did and here it is published!

Tomorrow, I will be visiting the blog of Tali Spencer and blogging more about developing Curiosity Killed Shaney. Hope to see you all there!

Blurb: Shaney's curiosity is always getting him into trouble, including stumbling into a ritualistic circle and being imbued with an energy that will eventually tear him apart. He soon finds out that Hudson, a man he cares for deeply, might be responsible for his misfortune. Add in the betrayal by his best friend Todd and the desire of a demented occultist named Silas to control the energy inside of him and there seems to be no way out. Can Shaney find a way to rid his body of the nefarious energy before he dies a horrible death?


How old are you?” Shaney asked. The silence was driving him batty.
The side of Hudson’s jaw twitched. “Twenty-six.”
And Hudson. Is that like Rock Hudson or the Hudson River?
Another flinch of that muscle but that movement wasn’t an angry twitch. The man couldn’t be nervous, could he?
Hudson River.”
Cool. Named after a river. I think I was named after a three-year-old. Is your middle name River?”
Does anyone call you Huds for short?”
And those were the last words they spoke to each other until they reached the cabin.
As the trees thinned, the one-story fishing cabin came into view. Not as eerie as Shaney had pictured in his head. The green paint was weathered and a few shingles were missing, but overall the building was well-maintained. The windows were the old metal frame kind with single panes of glass. Definitely a summer cabin. Winters in the Adirondacks got down right bitter, often dipping into the double-digit negative numbers. Shaney hated the cold as much as his balls did. Hibernation was his winter activity of choice. This, of course, made the other natives scoff since the area was all about winter sports. They were less than thirty minutes from the Olympic Village of Lake Placid. Maybe if they had something exciting, like Extreme Ice Fishing, Shaney could be drawn out of his warm apartment, if only for the entertainment value. He envisioned ice fisherman sitting on their buckets while skiers pulled behind snowmobiles zigged and zagged around them. One missed zag and fishermen, poles, and fish would all go flying.
Shaney looked up to see Hudson scowling; jaw clenched tight, dark eyes glaring. Man, had anyone ever looked that annoyed with Shaney?
Care to join me?” He growled.
Sure,” Shaney said and followed until the man stopped short. Shaney’s sneaker slid in the mud and he tried to stop, but his body plastered itself to Hudson’s backside. Shaney’s arms automatically wrapped tight around Hudson’s waist to steady his legs.
Oh, hells bells, this feels so good. The heat from Hudson went straight to Shaney’s groin and for just a second Shaney breathed in leather and earth and sweat. When his brain caught up, Shaney jumped back as if his body had come into contact with a hot surface.
Hot is right, he thought as his sneakers slipped again, and he ended up sprawled on his back in the mud. Without hesitation, Hudson reached down and grabbed Shaney’s wrist, yanking him upright.
Hudson surveyed Shaney from head to toe and Shaney felt every inch as a caress. Why did Hudson make Shaney squirm in his skin, make him desire the feel of the strong man over him, under him, behind him…anyway he could get him? After only two hours with the plaid-covered hunk, Shaney’s sexual tension had risen to levels that were about to blow his heads off—all three of them.
Suddenly, Hudson’s jaw unclenched and his eyes lightened. Even his shoulders relaxed. Shaney’s breath caught at the soft openness gazing down at him. Butterflies beat furiously in the pit of Shaney’s stomach. He ran his tongue across his bottom lip. Hudson’s eyes intently followed the movement. Slowly, he lifted his hand toward Shaney’s face. Was he going to touch Shaney? Yes, touch me. Shaney wanted to step closer and nuzzle his cheek into that palm. A slight hesitation of his hand, a flicker of something in Hudson’s eyes, and Shaney froze. Hudson’s hand continued up and a light brush of fingertips across the bump on his scalp sent shivers zinging down Shaney’s spine. There wasn’t enough air.
Does it hurt?” Hudson asked in a low, rough voice as he watched his own fingers stroking Shaney’s head.
Please, don’t ever stop.
Not too much anymore. I guess if I knocked it again, probably.” Shaney’s gaze never left Hudson’s face. How rare was that open honesty?
Hudson’s eyes flicked down to meet Shaney’s and for one perfect moment, Shaney stopped thinking. But as quick as a rabbit fleeing a fox, Hudson’s hand snapped back and the tension that had been momentarily absent, now filled Hudson’s face.

Curiosity Killed Shaney Blog Tour Giveaway!!
Shaney is so excited about his story being told that he is giving away some great prizes!
P.S. He’s really excited to give them away!
1- $25 Amazon Gift Card
2 Curiosity Killed Shaney Ebooks
2 of Maximus’ “Duct Tape” T-shirts
3 “Freeze Warlock” Coffee Mugs
2 $5 Amazon Gift Cards

You can enter daily along the blog tour, as often as you like!

About JC Wallace

I have been writing all of my life, however it was just this year that I ventured out to be published. In my day job, I am a behavior analyst. At night and on the weekends, I write about all things men. I believe there is nothing hotter than two men finding and loving one another, whether for a night or forever. An avid reader of M/M romance, I love a good twist of a plot, HEA, HFN, or tragic ending.

I am owned by three kids, one grandchild and one on the way, two dogs and one cat. I live in the beautiful Adirondack Mountains in Northern NY

March 15, 2014

Discount code

The Facebook chat has ended but for the next two days you can get all my books for 25% off at the Dreamspinner website with the discount code: Kat0315 (case sensitive). 

March 12, 2014

Release Day for "The Wolf and His Diva"


George Owens is comfortable with his life just the way it is. A wolf- and fox-shifter, George leads a reclusive lifestyle with his energetic and diva-ish mate Billy, a fox- and squirrel-shifter.

George has no desire to take over leadership of the pack, despite his father’s wishes. Edward Owens is feeling his age and wants to make sure the pack is in good hands should he not be able to win his next challenge. However, George is adamant that he wants no part of it.

But events rock George from his complacency, and he realizes he has to take a stand and fight for what he cares about. If he remains in the past and cannot change in order to do what he must, he risks losing everything he loves.


The Wolf and His Diva released today. It's available here:

Joyfully Jay is running a giveaway, so hop on over if you're interested.

I'm doing a Facebook chat on DSP's FB page on March 15th and would love to see some of you there. Of course you'll have a chance to win various books. :)

March 10, 2014

Goddess Fish Promotions: Gaylon Greer -- The Price of Sanctuary & Guest Post -- The Three C’s of Can’t-Put-It-Down Fiction

The Price of Sanctuary
by Gaylon Greer



Accustomed to a life of privilege, Shelby Cervosier new finds herself running for her life. Accused of killing an American Immigration agent, Shelby has undertaken a mission on behalf of a secretive American espionage agency in exchange for a promise of legal amnesty and political asylum in America. Now, however, the agent who coerced her into accepting the assignment wants her dead to cover up the bungled mission. Two hit men compete for the bounty that has been placed on her head.

Shelby and her younger sister flee into America’s heartland in search of a safe haven. They find only fear and danger, however, when they are captured by one of the assassins, Hank.

Prepared to do whatever it takes to keep her sister safe, Shelby cooperates with her capturer. Deciding that his feelings for them are more important than bounty money, Hank takes the sisters under his wing and secrets then away to his hideout: a farm in a remote corner of Colorado. They become a part of his extended family; they have finally found sanctuary.

Their safe new world is shattered when the second hit man, a relentless psychopath, captures Shelby’s little sister and uses her to lure Shelby and her lover into a middle-of-the-night showdown on an isolated Rocky Mountain battleground.



The house had grown quiet except for the occasional creak of aging timbers reacting to changes in humidity and temperature. After watching a moonbeam stab through a window and creep over the floor, Shelby stared at the ceiling and asked herself why she always waited for events to overtake her. Why couldn't she do what Hank had suggested during their road trip? In Las Vegas he had urged her to reach out to life, to squeeze it, make it respond. “Grab life by the scruff and shake it,” he'd said. But he wouldn't reach out to her any more than he already had. The next move was up to her.

She threw back the bedcovers and swung her feet onto the chilly floor. If she thought about it, she would crawl back into bed, so she refused to think. Instead she reached under her gown to slip off her panties and tiptoed across the hall to his bedroom.

He lay on his back, stretched full-length under the covers. “Are you all right?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Standing in his doorway, she said, “I'm . . . yes, I'm okay.”

Are you chilly? Need more cover?”

I'm lonely. May I get in with you?”

He shifted to the side, fluffed a pillow for her, and threw back the covers. She recognized the gesture as the one she had used in Las Vegas when inviting him to share Pearl's guest bed. Feeling light-headed, she pulled the door shut and climbed in with him.

He lay on his side, watching her. “You sure everything's all right?”

I don't know. I feel . . .” She twisted to face him. “I thought you might . . . that we . . .” Why couldn't she finish a sentence? She concentrated on regulating her breathing.

He twisted onto his back again and extended an arm. “Come here.”


AUTHOR Bio and Links:

Working with traveling carnivals and itinerant farm labor gangs during his teen and early adult years took Gaylon Greer up, down, and across the United States and introduced him to a plethora of colorful individuals who serve as models for his fictional characters. A return to school in pursuit of a high school diploma while serving in the Air Force led to three university degrees, including a Ph.D. in economics, and a stint as a university professor. After publishing several books on real estate and personal financial planning, as well as lecturing on these subjects to nationwide audiences, he shifted his energy to writing fiction. Gaylon lives near Austin, Texas.

Gaylon’s Web Site:

Amazon Author Page:

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Guest post: The Three C’s of Can’t-Put-It-Down Fiction
You can have characters without a plot, but a plot without characters? Not likely. It follows that characters are the starting point for a story. Craft one or more characters and place them in a context that generates conflict, and you have a story. It might not be a good story, but you have incorporated the essentials for all tales, good, bad, and disgusting: characters, conflict, and context.
Master storytellers give their readers multifaceted characters whose personalities dictate how they react to conflict situations and therefore where the plot goes. Elmore Leonard expressed it well by stating that once characters have been created and placed in a conflict context, the author is well advised to get out of the way and let the characters do their thing.
In early drafts the characters’ thoughts, emotions, and actions flow mindlessly from the writer’s subconscious directly into the word processor. What results is a great mass of sometimes-incomprehensible narrative; an unholy mess. Then the writer switches to editor mode and begins imposing order.
Elmore Leonard’s tenth rule for writing comes into play at this point: take out the parts that people tend to skip. It the writer is really good, and if she is diligent, readers are blessed with lines that live in history: “Get busy living or get busy dying.” “As long as the heart beats, as long as body and soul keep together, I cannot admit that any creature endowed with a will has need to despair of life.” “Do not let your fire go out, spark by irreplaceable spark in the hopeless swamps of the not-quite, the not-yet, and the not-at-all.” “It is good to have an end to journey towards; but it is the journey that matters in the end.”

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