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Jocelynn Drake and I are announcing the title and publication date of the first book in our new M/M romantic suspense series. Here’s all the fun info!   http://drakeandelliott.com/2015/09/shiver/

If you like big suspenseful m/m romance novels, I’m doing a new project with a new co-writer.

Jocelynn Drake is a wonderfully talented, NYT Bestselling author of urban fantasy and we met briefly years ago at a Romance Writers of America conference. But we didn’t click until later. She read my Dani Worth Kithran stories and loved them as much as I do. I don’t have a huge audience for those and to hear that someone enjoyed them so much meant a lot to me. They are what you’d call a part of a niche genre…or genres. LGBT, erotic, menage, and space opera. LOL. So we became friends. I later introduced her to my favorite contemporary m/m romance series (Abigail Roux’s Cut and Run) then some of my other favorites in that genre and she was hooked, too. We decided to do a fun project together and then met in person again this year at the Romantic Times Convention. We ended up spending most of the trip working.

We’re both so excited about our new series and will have news soon. In the meantime, you can keep up with us in several places.

Our Website– Still under construction

Our Tumblr-   This is going to be a pretty sexy Tumblr. We’re posting images of characters and places that inspire our series.

Our Twitter-

 

Short and sweet this time. Excerpt of FORETOLD for the Summer YA Book Party!

 

The sheriff, a long, lanky guy with a shock of orange-ish hair sticking out from under a
black wool cap, hooked his thumbs in the front pockets of his jeans. “You say you’re eighteen.” His skeptical expression didn’t escape me. I got this a lot from my looks, but I had shown him my license. “And you drove all the way here, in a snowstorm, from where?”

“Florida.” I carefully did not look at Vanir’s aunt, Sarah. Her last name, Eir, had freaked
me out. Eir, in Norse mythology, had been the goddess of medical skill. The magic radiating
from this woman like heat from a bonfire confused me. It hung thick and sweet in the air,
smelling faintly of citrus. It was a good smell. Clean, healthy. She was a full practitioner of
seidr magic. Too many things were falling into place. Fear coiled behind the wooziness that had finally settled in with a vengeance. This was too much.

Way. Too. Much.

Seidr, a Norse magic practiced mostly by women, could gift someone with abilities
ranging from trance prophecy—like mine—to healing. It was believed by some to even be
behind the berserkers who raged like insane people into battles. Reminded of Kat’s last
prophecy, I frowned. Mom’s magic was definitely not seidr.

The cop, who must have noticed my attention had wandered, squatted in front of me. I
cut my gaze to him too fast and swayed in the chair. Hands came down on my shoulders. That weird comfort seeped through my clothes and under my skin. Vanir.

He was still pissed. I felt it in the tension pouring off him. And he had to be curious about
the rune tempus—yet he comforted me. I wasn’t imagining the narcoticlike sensation coming from his hands, either. Made me think of the stories of Odin and his use of seidr. Men had practiced it but were often considered feminine for doing so. Vanir was anything but feminine.

Boggled the mind to know I was being touched by a future warrior, one who carried part
of the Allfather’s soul. And that I was surrounded by the very kinds of people my mother had spent my lifetime keeping away from me.

Another goodie for the readers at the Summer YA Book Party!

The confusion he made me feel did what confusion always did to me. Made me mad. I hated not knowing what was going on at all times, hated the blurred edges that showed up too often in life. “Don’t be flattered. I came because I thought my mother might try to hurt you, but I found out this morning that she went to Oklahoma, so I don’t have to stay.”

It was his turn to look confused. “So you think your mother left Florida to come all the way here to hurt me, but now she’s in Oklahoma. That’s kind of crazy.” He grinned. “It’s also kind of cool to have a girl riding to my rescue. Who’s your mom?”

“That’s not important now that I don’t have to stay.”

“But you do have a god or goddess’s soul, don’t you?”

I squeezed my eyes shut, took a long deep breath, then looked at him again. “I can’t believe you’re asking me that question. You don’t think that’s a strange thing to ask someone?”

Right then, I flashed back to my conversation with Raven that morning.

“Vanir has brothers, all with Norse names, and they look like their Choctaw-Irish father. And everyone here knows what’s going on. I just know it. This whole situation is too surreal, Kat. We’ve spent all our lives hiding our magic, knowing others don’t even know about it, and I walk into a family who knows things. Even the sheriff, I think. It’s like I marched right into a book.”
“Sounds like it’s all coming together. Ragnarok. Just like the stories.”

Arun moved away from the table, surprising me once he was standing next to me. I had to look up more than I’d expected. I’d been wrong at the truck stop—he as probably a couple of inches over six feet. “It is a strange thing to ask someone, but I sort of have this sixth sense where people like us are concerned. It’s like a kind of electricity that makes my skin prickle. See?” He slid the sleeve of his blue sweater up, and I could actually see the blond hair on his arms standing at attention.

“Does it stay like that?”

“Nah. It’s only for a little while. It’s like my body has to get used to being around someone like us. It won’t happen again after a few days. Should have seen the hair on my head the day Tyrone showed up here from Kansas. Couldn’t tame the spiky Mohawk no matter how much gel I used.” He nodded toward the door. “Tyrone is that big guy you saw outside.”

“He’s one of us?” And like that, I jumped on his crazy train. Years of keeping quiet, of never talking about the magical part of my life just flew out of the window. “There are more here?”

He nodded as the sound of snow on the plastic roof and walls grew louder. Wincing, he looked up. “It’s getting worse. And so many have been coming lately. We worry that some will get lost in the woods.”

“Who’s we?”

“My family. My mother, her brother and his wife. They started these greenhouses when I was a baby—when my mother first realized what was going on. She was raised on the stories of Ragnarok. When she realized I carried Freyr’s soul, she and my uncle Axel got the first greenhouse going.”

He just threw out the name Freyr. The word Ragnarok. So matter-of-fact. Like they were normal words—words that were a part of anyone’s usual daily conversations. I’d known who he carried the second I’d seen the tabloid article, and my suspicion had been confirmed when I had seen how absurdly good-looking he was. But suddenly I wanted to know so, so much. “I’ve never met anyone other than my sisters who carries someone’s soul. Does he squirm around in your chest? Make you feel crazy emotions? Cause pain?” I stopped, chewed on my lip. “Does he make your life a living hell?”

He frowned. “You can feel yours moving? Nobody has said they can feel theirs.” He shuddered, horror darkening his expression. “No wonder you’re so prickly.”

Prickly? Prickly? I glared. “I have two sisters, and they both feel theirs, too. If you can’t feel yours, how do you know he’s there? How did your mother know?” I pulled the tabloid article from my pocket and smoothed it out because I’d stuffed it in there when the cashier at the truck stop had made me angry. “So this stuff is true? You make crops magically appear?”

He took the paper, stared at it, then shook his head. “This is what brought you here? Imagine that. Finally something cool from this stupid article. And no, it’s not true. This thing caused us so much trouble. For a year after it came out, we were dealing with the craziest people showing up here at all hours. We got hundreds of Bibles in the mail. Hundreds.” He held up the paper. “I can’t believe this is why you came here.”

“So if it’s not true, how did your mother know?” Of course, I didn’t know how my mother knew about the one prophecy she’d drummed into my sisters’ and my heads our entire lives. The one about the future warrior with dark eyes and light hair who would kill us.

Arun stared at me for a few moments, then pointed to a leaf next to my head. It was partially brown and shriveled. He slowly reached out and stroked his finger over the leaf, caressing it like one would a small pet.

And as I watched, the brown part of the leaf fell off while the rest perked up. The attached vine lifted, thickened, as a healthier green color spread rapidly to the center of the plant.

Dark, dark eyes stared hard at me as my mouth fell open.

“Wow,” I breathed. “I tracked down Swamp Thing.”

 

A new excerpt of FORECAST (Bk #2 in the Sisters of Fate trilogy.) for the readers at the Summer YA Book Party!

Taran called and asked me to meet him for a late lunch at a fast-food seafood restaurant on Miracle Strip Parkway the next morning. Guess he’d decided to ignore the grounding. I picked out a pair of skinny jeans with a huge red-and-blue sweater—again the colors of protection—then put matching feathers on clips into my hair. The ensemble would all clash with the orange snow boots, but I didn’t really care. Color cheered me.

I was five minutes into the drive when I realized there wouldn’t be a lot more driving—not in my little Neon. The snow had let up the night before but now it fell in sheets. I hoped it didn’t stay like this because I couldn’t imagine how everyone would keep doing the things they needed to do. Get to jobs, schools. I had to drive slowly, and the entire time my hands shook because I was terrified of other vehicles running into me. Cars crammed the parking lots of hotels and grocery stores. I drove past stores with closed signs on the doors. Normally people would be on the sidewalks and streets…on the beaches.

When I finally got to the restaurant, I felt as if I’d been driving for days. I had to park a ways from the entrance because the parking lot was packed.

I opened my car door and swung my legs around to get out, and the wind nearly knocked me back into the car. Snow stabbed at the exposed skin of my face and hands as I pushed my way out of the car and slammed the door. I promptly slipped and grabbed the side mirror, dangling there. The healing wound on my palm stung as I held on to keep from hitting the ground.

A group of kids hurried past me, then stopped. I thought they were going to offer to help me, but the sudden raucous squawks of ravens drowned out even the sound of the wind. Hundreds landed in the parking lot, noisy, stabbing at each other with sharp beaks. The wind grabbed black feathers and drops of red blood, spreading them on the mounds of white in morbid contrasting colors.

A hand grabbed my elbow, lifted me, and I looked up to find Taran had come out. But like everyone else, he watched the birds. It was as if they’d been possessed as they fought each other. I wondered why they hadn’t frozen and died like the flock I’d seen before.

And again I wondered what the ravens were doing in Florida.

The rate their number was growing sent ripples of alarm up my back.

Taran pulled me close to him as some of the birds swarmed around us. One dived toward his face and he batted it away, then wrapped his arm protectively around my head as he walked me across the parking lot.

The scent of fried fish, shrimp and French fries made my mouth water when Taran opened the door. We turned and watched as other people ran toward the restaurant. Then the birds suddenly swarmed into the air in a tornado like formation and flew off.

“That was wild,” Taran muttered. He scowled as someone jostled into us, making me hit the window. Taran pulled me closer. “Hey, dude, watch it.”

The man who’d run into me grimaced. “Sorry. Never saw crows like that before. They freaked me out a bit.” He moved away.

“That’s because they weren’t crows,” I murmured to Taran under my breath.

He looked down at me, lifted an eyebrow.

The noise of the packed restaurant swirled around us. I stood on my toes to get closer to his ear. “Those were ravens, and it isn’t the first time I’ve seen them. They shouldn’t be here.”

“Maybe they’re just flying south, thinking it’s a regular winter—that sort of thing.”

“Maybe,” I said, though in my heart, I knew it was something a little scarier than that. All I could think about were the stories of Ragnarok. The ravens and the wolves.

 

 

It’s out!!! Here are some places you can order

My publisher Samhain-any format and currently 30% off so it’s only $3.85.

Amazon

Barnes and Noble

And how about a real glimpse of Pryor Bernaux????  😉

Pryor didn’t answer the front door when she rang the bell.

Elita blew out a breath, trying to get her sweaty hair off her forehead. When it didn’t
move, she grimaced and dug through her bag for a scrunchy. She didn’t care that the fluffy
hair bands weren’t in fashion anymore because they worked best on long, thick hair. She
found a black one, slipped it over her wrist and set her purse on the porch. She raked her
hair back with her fingers, noting the areas around her temples were damp. Once her hair
was off her face and neck, she sighed with relief. Leaving it down on a hot day like today had been a bad, bad idea. She ignored the tiny voice that whispered she’d wanted to look good for the youngest Bernaux brother.

She picked up her purse, thought about locking it in the car, but remembered she’d
thrown in more makeup that morning. It would all melt into goo. Normally, she didn’t carry much in her purse.

Normally, she didn’t primp like this.

She had it bad.

Bad enough that she’d gone against her own promise to wait to come back. She hoped
his brothers were home, but if they weren’t, her plan was to not let Pryor do any magic on
her whatsoever. Squaring her shoulders, Elita walked along the long, creaking porch to the
side stairs. She kept her gaze on the ground as she walked, checking for stray vines. For
crawling, murderous, tripping vines. A stand of thick trees made welcome shade as she
followed the faint sound of music coming from the back of the house. Recognizing the slow,
sexy trip hop song, she picked up her pace and headed for the walkway between the small
outbuildings.

A glance toward the house showed he’d managed to paint another section in the time
she’d been gone. That was probably why he hadn’t answered his phone today.

She slowed when she spotted Pryor.

He lay in a hammock stretched between two massive trees at the edge of the cleared
backyard. A portable CD player sat next to him. She recognized the sultry song, surprised
he was listening to something from the nineties. She tried to guess his age again as she
walked close to him. The sunlight sparkled off the water on his other side. He must have
been wearing shorts because one muscular, bare leg bent over the edge of the hammock as
he pushed off with his foot.

Surely he wasn’t lying out here naked.

His arms came up to lace behind his briefly raised head and she breathed out a sigh
when she saw the black T-shirt. She tried to tell herself it was a sigh of relief that he was
obviously not naked out here. She set her purse under one of the tables out of the sun and
walked up to the hammock. Pryor continued to gently push off the ground as he watched
her come close.

“I got the paresse.”

Heat curled inside Elita with Pryor’s low, muttered words. It shot throughout her body
when his mouth stretched into that slow, sexy grin.

“You feel lazy, eh?”

“Oui. It’s too hot to keep painting today.” His thigh muscles flexed as he rocked the
hammock. His T-shirt had more holes than Swiss cheese, his khaki shorts looked well
washed and soft. “This is the best place on the whole property that picks up a breeze.”

She lifted an eyebrow, then briefly closed her eyes to try and feel it. She grinned, looked
back at him. “What breeze? You’re making that up.”

“Alohrs pas!”

His low chuckle as he said “Of course not!” made her flush. She could imagine hearing
it, by her ear, in bed. The chuckle, not those particular words. She couldn’t imagine anything he would say no to in bed.

And with that thought, her lower body started that annoying hot throb again.

“Close your eyes again, Elita,” he said, voice low. “Wait.”

She did. All she heard was the gentle creak of the ropes holding the hammock, the plop
of something jumping into the swamp close to them…the rustle of leaves above, which
meant the wind could and did reach some of this area. And then, just like magic, a true
breeze brushed over the surface of her skin. Her hair stood on end. She closed her eyes,
tilted her head back and soaked it in like her Ma’man always told her to. It felt like Pryor
himself touched her and she shivered. She opened her eyes to find the heat in the air around them was nothing compared to the heat coming at her from that gaze.

I’m certainly no professional, but I made a fun graphic that has story hints. I understand it doesn’t work as a wallpaper–not enough clean space–but I make collages for all the books I do and wanted to make one I could share. Mine are usually sexier and have images I don’t always own because they’re just for me. But I purchased the photos for this one so I could share one with you all. Enjoy!

There’s been a very nice price drop on two of my Sisters of Fate books. FORETOLD is now just $.99 at Amazon and Barnes and Noble. FORECAST is $1.99. So you can try the first book for a dollar or get the whole story–all three books for 6 bucks. Cool, eh? Here are the links!

Amazon

Barnes and Noble

I revamped my entire website, made fun banners for the new slider (Except for the Sisters of Fate one. Fellow Dame, Karen Mahoney, made that banner and I just love it!) and even added a page about the pen name I’ve been using for my erotic books for years.

Also, my friend and upcoming co-writer for a new project made an announcement about a new project we’re doing together! Read about that here.

Reviews for Raisonne Curse are trickling in and so far, so good. I’m glad readers seem to be enjoying this southern Gothic. I’m having a blast writing about the Bernaux brothers finding love! The next two books are in the works and I should have publication dates on those soon. Until then, it’s still 30% off both ebook and print at my publisher’s website.

 

My next book release just went on sale for 30% off at my publisher’s website. Both ebook and print. They are coming out at the same time for the first time in my writing career. Cool, right?

This is the absolute best place for readers to order books because you can get any format you want at the cheapest price available. Yes, I earn more royalties at that website, but don’t let that influence you. Buy my books wherever you like. As long as they aren’t being pirated, it all works for me–even library loans work for me. 🙂

https://www.samhainpublishing.com/book/5503/raisonne-curse

There is also a nice, long excerpt up at that link…