Monday, April 30, 2018

Steamy #Romance Reads & #Haven Excerpt

Origins by Celia Breslin book cover

Hi Everyone!

Hope you all had a fabulous April. Mine was, sadly, dominated by a wicked, tenacious chest cold. Three weeks, ack!


While I was laid up with the Virus From Hell, I managed to read a megaton of romance and also edit the third novel for my Tranquilli Bloodline vampire lovebirds, Carina and Alexander (Origins).

Here are a few of my favorite books from this month of coughing, sniffling, wheezing, and sneezing...

Destiny by Celia Breslin book cover
  • Lotus Petals (#1, Blood and Fire series), by Brantwijn Serrah
  • The Risk (#1, (Xtreme Heroes series), by Skye Jordan
  • Hades, Base Instincts, and Z (3 books in the Demonica series), by Larissa Ione


Here's a romantic moment from HAVEN featuring Carina, my feisty San Francisco club owner, and her love-interest, undead musician Alexander...

Haven by Celia Breslin book cover ... Outside, the misty air cooled my lungs, the marble bench froze my ass, and the concrete under my bare feet chilled them bone deep. All cleared my head and eased the vertigo. “What time is it?”

Alexander draped his black leather coat over my shoulders. “Around four.”

He helped me snake my arms into the coat’s too-long-for-me sleeves, his hands pale like moonlight against the inky darkness of his coat. Such large, competent hands, the fingers long and strong. Piano player fingers. A silver band graced his left index, an onyx triquetra adorning the middle. He fished my hand from the sleeve. When our palms touched, power pulsed, warm and comforting.

My eyes strayed to the bracelets on his wrist. One thin strap of black leather and a chunky, metal bracelet of I-shaped links. I traced the metal with my free hand. “Silver?”

“Never.” He pointed at the rings. “White gold.” And the bracelet. “Titanium.”

“Oh.” My fingers continued their dance over his accessories. Love touching him.

Wind gusted around the clinic, whipping locks of hair across my face. He brushed them away, tucking some behind my ear. I pressed my cheek against his palm and closed my eyes to savor the moment. “Feeling better?”

I blinked and gave him a wry grin. “A lot better since you interrupted my undead uncles getting me drunk on brandy.”

His lips quirked, fangs flashing.

My insides quivered. “Yeah, much better.” My fingertips stroked his handsome face.

His skin showed no signs of the wounds he’d received during the earlier fight. Impressive. He leaned into my touch. My eyes zeroed in on his oh-so kissable lips. He moved closer, closer still, pausing a hair’s breadth away. My pulse skyrocketed. My stomach performed endless somersaults while bits lower clenched in anticipation. Do it. Do it now.

Alexander let out a breath and kissed me. ...  

Want to read more? Here's another excerpt: Alexander and Carina's First Meet -->

Have a great week, Dear Readers, and see you back here on May 30th!


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Saturday, April 28, 2018

When Good Authors Go Bad

Okay. I admit it.

I have an evil twin.

Okay. My evil twin is me.

The fact of the matter is, I love to write so much, and my imagination is always working...sometimes my story ideas are not (GASP) romance.

Case in point, my most recent release.

It's not even a Sabrina York book! It's certainly not romance, though there are romantic elements.

I wrote it a couple years ago as a palate cleanser after writing the first three books in the  Untamed Highlander Series in four months. I needed a break.

So I sat down and binge watched Sons of Anarchy for a couple hours in the morning, wrote for five and then ended the day with more SOA.

I finished my opus in one month and even though I loved the story and the characters, I knew it would probably never sell. But that was OK. It was fun.

And then my agent got an offer on it. I was stunned.

The way publishers work, the book was earmarked to release in April of 2018, which seemed like a century away.

Well, the Viridian Convict (Book One of the Blue Dominion series) came out to rave reviews and I am thrilled.

Naturally, I have to tell you about it. If you like super snarky sci-fi (with a side of romance), please check it out.

Here's the info:

BLUE DOMINION--An epic trilogy of rebellion, passion and the struggle to survive in a universe crushed beneath the draconian thumb of the Fed
The Viridian Convict
The Indigo Operative
The Cerulean Insurgent

The Viridian Convict by Sam York
Damned if you do, dead if you don't.

Welcome to Viridian, a prison moon full of aliens…who want to eat you.

 The Godfather meets Guardians of the Galaxy in this crazy-ass adventure set on Viridian, a prison planet full of aliens…who want to eat you. Tig, the only human, is thrust into a lose/lose/lose situation when the mob boss he works for asks him to pick up and deliver a package that the Fed—the governing body of the known universe—also wants. To make matters worse, the “package” has curves for days, an attitude to match, and her own agenda for how this is all going down.


Chapter One

Kaww Settlement, Viridian Moon, Federation Penal Colony, 27:55

The call came in just as I was about to clock out, but then, munis in my position never really clock out. Not on the moon of Viridian. Not when they work for Granny.
“This one’s for you, Tig,” Marmot said with a smirk as he handed me the slip.
Annoyance fizzled and spat.
God, I hated that rat-faced weasely piece of Scard excrement.
Too bad he was my boss.
Well, technically my shift supervisor. Granny was the real boss and everyone knew it.
No one was more powerful on Viridian. Except the Fed.
But then, Fed agents, those blue bastards, rarely came on planet.
For one thing, this place was a shithole that made Lord of the Flies look like Disneyland. For another, there really wasn’t much to police here. Nothing they cared about anyway. Their job was to sit up there in their luxurious space station and make sure none of the cons escaped the planetary shield.
Occasionally one of them would drop down—usually to indulge their darker appetites—but they never stayed long. Just long enough to fuck shit up.
My gut clenched as the memory of my last tangle with a particular Fed scorched my brain. I tried to push all thoughts of Mia from my mind, but it was hard to forget what that blue bitch had done.
“Well?” Marmot’s pointy nose quivered.
“What is it?” I snapped.
He grinned. His razor-sharp teeth glinted in the light. “DB. Out in Harleytown.”
“Awesome.” I scrubbed at my face. My day beard scratched at my palm. I was tired. I wanted to go home and take a load off. Maybe get shitfaced. I glanced at the other munis lounging in the lobby: a couple Trogs, a Raven, and some random Frogs. They all avoided eye contact. With a sigh, I dropped the annoying assignment. The paper fluttered onto the desk. “I’m off in two.”
Marmot pushed the slip right back at me. “Special request. Asked for you.”
Yeah. I loved being popular. “Who?”
“Jimmy Bluenote.”
Well, hell.
That Dink had saved my ass last week in a sting that went sour—way sour. I’d be rolling around in an Ozzie stew about now if it hadn’t been for him. I owed him. And here, on Viridian, a prison moon filled to the gills with all manner of vengeful species, you always paid your debts.
“Fine.” I snatched the slip from Marmot’s bony fingers and wheeled away.
“And Tig?”
I glanced back at him. His nose wiggled. His whiskers quivered. His beady little eyes glinted. “Take the Skeeg.”
“Seriously?” I’d spent most of my day trying to shake that tail.
Marmot waggled his furry eyebrows. “Take the Skeeg.”
Each flatfoot working for Granny was assigned a Skeeg for “protection,” which was a fucking joke. Those frogs could barely protect their own eggs. I suspected Granny was just doing them a favor, offering them a place in his kingdom in exchange for licking rights. Some creatures on this rock would kill or die for Skeeg pglet. In addition to having rumored regenerative properties, it was, apparently, a most excellent high.
I’d never been tempted. The thought of licking one of those repugnant creatures made me want to vomit. Besides, I had my own dark cravings to deal with. Last thing I needed was another addiction.
At any rate, on Granny’s behest, I spent my shifts being trailed by a tall, skinny, green douchebag with one eye on a stalk. It creeped me out, the way he looked around, that stalk all bendy like it was. The way he smelled wasn’t orgasmic either. But Granny was God. We did what he said. No matter what.
We knew we were damn lucky to have the job. Some vestige of power in a world where power equaled survival.
Viridian wasn’t a penal colony so much as a Federation garbage dump. A first-uni Australia of the 19th century … only with aliens. Who wanted to eat you. Loads of fun.
Got a problem you wanna make disappear? Send it to Viridian with the scumbags and lowlifes of the uni, let nature take its course.
I’d been somebody’s problem.
I suspect we all had been. At some point.
For many, a conviction and transport to Viridian was a death sentence. Pity it wasn’t for most. Fact was, the ones who thrived here were the most brutal, pitiless, soulless creatures in the known universe. Savages who would do anything to survive.
No one expected me to make it a week.
Soft Earthie? Pretty boy? I didn’t have venom, no spines, no secret weapons. To make matters worse, of all the creatures in this universe, humans and Feds looked far too much alike. Except for my non-blue skin color, I could have been one. That alone made humans exceedingly unpopular.
Yeah. I shoulda died. Expected to.
No one could have predicted I’d land on my feet, first day out the gate. I sure as shit didn’t. But fortune fell in my lap in the holding cell in intake, up on the Fed station orbiting this moon. My dumbshit noble sensibilities clicked on when I saw two Ozzies making a move on a kid. A young, stupid Ferrod, with velvet still on his antlers. He was utterly out of his league here in this hell hole, but connected. The Ozzies wanted to chow down—they’ll eat anything and they have these long, razor-sharp teeth to make the job easier. You could call them fangs. Or straws.
Any rate, I snapped a couple off, saved the sniveling kid and got him through the gate. To daddy. I had no idea “daddy” was Big Jogn. That furry, fat fence set me up with his capo and that led me to Granny. I’d been working under his banner ever since. Ten years. Or what passes for a year on this rock.
My official title was Enforcer, but we all knew we were errand boys. Bag men, cleaners, muscle. Whatever Granny demanded, we did it.
Even consort with Skeegs.
I glanced over to my office where my partner sat slumped in a chair at his desk, wiping the slime from his green skin. Great. He was oozing again. I knew what that meant.
Of course, I was assuming One Eye was a “he.” Skeegs didn’t have a gender, not until it was mating season, then they’d do whatever Skeegs needed to do.
God. Skeeg mating season. What a mess.
 “Hey, Frog,” I called. One Eye’s earhole twitched. He looked up. His long, stalky eye settled on me and he blinked, slow, steady, like he did. I waved the slip. “We got a call.”
I crossed my arms and watched as he unfolded his long, leggy body from the chair and made his way through the stationhouse toward me, his flat, webbed feet slapping wetly on the hardwood floor. He left a trail behind him. The other munis curled their noses—and other various appendages—when he passed. When Skeegs started going into musth, they stank to high heaven. And dripped.
He moved like molasses in winter, but I was in no hurry. I owed it to Jimmy to respond to whatever emergency he had, but seriously, there was no call to go overboard. At least tonight I’d be able to clear an annoying debt.
And Jimmy was annoying.
We headed down to the garage and hopped into my skimmer, but I took the precaution of pulling some towels out of the trunk and draping them over the passenger seat first. I didn’t have a fancy ride, but it was mine, and the last thing I wanted was to get Skeeg cum all over the leather.
I was assuming it was cum.
One Eye and I weren’t close enough to ask.
I never wanted to be that close.
Point being, it was a wise precaution. You could never get that stank out.
Once we were both settled, I flicked on my hovers and headed out onto the street. It was a dark night, but hardly quiet. There were few quiet nights in this town. In fact, nighttime was when it came alive, started to hum, sometimes scream. When I’d first arrived here I’d hated it, the constant thrum of excitement, expectation, and malicious intent. But you get used to everything. Eventually. And sometimes you even start liking it.
We hit a snag in the Prospect District. Some riot in progress. I switched on my lights and a path cleared through the melee. It wasn’t like back on Earth, where people had respect for the law and pulled over when they saw a unit coming. Here they cleared a path because they knew if they didn’t I would blast my way through them.
I didn’t miss the snarls they flashed me as I flew by, but I didn’t care.
They all knew who I worked for, and no one pissed on Granny’s parade.
We turned onto the flyway and I jetted into gear. One Eye gasped and grabbed the handgrip as I accelerated, which sent a curl of annoyance through me. Skeegs never liked going fast and One Eye had never been a fan of my driving.
“Chill, Frog,” I muttered, as I shifted gears and roared into seventh gear. The skimmer shot forward with a howl.
One Eye didn’t respond, other than to level that big, glassy orb on me. I hated when he stared.
I angled my skimmer up to the top lane where we could really fly. Aside from the speed, I liked the view. Nothing overhead but the great expanse of the city dome—the dome that kept out the brutal storms of the Barrens and served as climate control for the settlement. Tonight, the sky was clear and myriad stars speckled the firmament.
I turned on the radio and let the Earth tunes wash over me as we wailed along the flyway. It helped me ignore my partner’s unnerving, silent stare. When he didn’t quit staring, I turned the volume up. And sang along.
I smirked when he grimaced.
Yeah, I’m pretty tone deaf.
“Call?” One Eye asked over the cacophony. A croak.
One Eye let out something that might have been a burbly sigh. Yup. I hated dead bodies too. Freaking pain in the ass. Way too much paperwork. Not that anyone cared, but Granny liked to keep tabs. On everything.
Viridian was his kingdom.
We came to the Harleytown exit and I veered onto the ramp, a glittering, silver beam of light ribboning off into the darkness. The howl of the flyway receded as we whipped down into the bowels of the city.
As we slid onto the street in one of the dirtiest districts of town, One Eye turned off the radio. I shot him a glare as I hovered to the address on the call and switched off, tugging on my gloves in an almost-automatic motion. One Eye did the same. His took a little more work, on account of the slime and everything. But no way was I helping him. No way was I touching that.
It might have been my imagination, but he seemed to be seeping more than usual.
“You ready?” I asked.
He did a quick weapons check and then nodded to me. Together, we eased from the skimmer.
The buildings towered over us, shutting out the light of the night moons. The streets were quiet. Eerily quiet. It was odd for Harleytown, which was usually crawling with johns and hookers seeking out depraved companionship, drug dealers, predators and not-so-petty thieves. But tonight it was as though something, some dark whisper in the night, had spooked them all back into their hidey-holes.
A shiver danced down my spine and I gave my gloves a tug.
This was a perfect place for a crime.
But, hell, what was I saying? Any place on this rock was the perfect place for a crime.
A rat skittered through the garbage piled on the street and someone peered out at us through the curtains of a window on the first floor of a seedy brownstone. When they noticed my attention, the curtain fluttered closed. Light flicked off.
Yeah. No one in this part of town wanted to tangle with one of Granny’s munis. They’d lose.
“Oh God, oh God, oh God.” Jimmy’s nasally voice echoed through the shadows, bouncing off the stones. “You’re here. Thank God.”
God had nothing to do with it.
I narrowed my eyes against the gloom and spotted him, hunkering in a debris-strewn alley. Jimmy was a jumpy gecko, but the way he was shuddering, the way his gaze kept skipping over the empty street, the way his left eye twitched, made me think this was something more than his usual paranoia. “What is it, Jimmy?” I called.
“Here. Come ’ere.” He waved me over, a frantic flutter of fingers. “Pflerg, Tig. Hurry.”
I shot a glance at One Eye and sighed. My partner held up his scanner and pointed it at the slender slit between the buildings. A beam of iridescent light walked its way over the crumbling bricks and scattered refuse with a low hum. The scanner beeped, a harsh intonation. One Eye nodded. Clear.
Nice to know the Dink wasn’t leading me into an ambush.
I headed toward him and One Eye took up position at the mouth of the alley, facing out, watching the street. Granted, we were Granny’s munis, but experience had taught us never to let down our guard. There was always someone watching. Always some shit in play.
I strolled down the long alley to Jimmy, adjusting my gloves. Not to make a point or anything. His gaze fixated on them, his slit pupils dilated, and his throat worked. Sweat beaded his scaly forehead … and Dinks sweated in pus. Great, gooey globs of it. And they were green. Great gooey green globs. Rolling down the side of his face. Jesus, it was gross. Almost as bad as the Skeeg.
 “What is it, Jimmy?” Goddamn it. I knew this was going to be a pain in the ass, whatever it was. Just knew.
He stubbed out his draw and scuttled over. “I swear to God, Tig. I didn’t know.” His eyes bugged out. His way of emphasizing his innocence—or his ignorance. Hard to tell. He had little of one and a lot of the other.
“You didn’t know what, Jimmy?”
“Oh pflerg, Tig. Over here. Pflerg.”
Damn. I’d seen the little lizard in a wad more than once, was used to his mouth, but this …. This was weird.
I shook my head and followed him back into the corner of the alley barely lit by a faint streetlamp. It was a dead end, a box in. Stone walls on all sides. No escape but the mouth of the cave. Ideal for a surprise attack. The body lay at the far end, a jumbled pile of clothes draped over a stack of wooden pallets.
“We was just, you know, tanging a little. Just playing around. It got a little rough and … I swear. I swear, Tig. I didn’t know.”
I leaned closer and shone my light on the scene with a tsk. “Jimmy, Jimmy. What did you—?”

About the Author
Blessed (or cursed) with dyslexia and ADD, author Sam York has always loved creating worlds, tantalizing readers, and having complete and utter control over the universe.  What could be better than writing snarky stories in a variety of genres?
Under various pen names, Sam has won multiple writing awards and hit the New York Times and USA Today bestseller list several times.
Interested parties can learn more at

Sam lives in seclusion east of Seattle with a really drooly Rottweiler.

Thursday, April 26, 2018

The Art of Romance

The creative discipline needed to write an engaging romance is not unlike that needed to sketch or paint. Both require an initial idea, a firm outline of basis for the creation, and hours of patience in order to get it right.

I love romances set in the art world, whether the artist is a main character, a supporting character, or rather just a vehicle to bring my hero and heroine together. A beautiful painting. like a well-written romance, should appeal to your emotions.

In my 1920's novella, The Muse, my hero is an artist. The heroine his muse. The Muse was also my first foray into erotic romance and, like any first, it holds a special place in my heart. While in the final stages of edits, cover art, and blurbs, it became important to me that the cover convey a sense of artistry. I wanted it to make a statement about not only my hero and heroine but also the third person in their naughty ménage à trois.

I believe the cover artist, the mega-talented Fiona Jayde, got it absolutely perfect...sepia coloring with a minute splash of red to make it pop. Definitely one of my personal favorites among my dozens of covers.

Decadence, freedom and illegal activities…

Everything a sheltered debutante in the mid-1920s could want. When Hyde Park socialite Susan Leland meets up with Evan Forrester for the second time, she makes no excuses for their first meeting—an auto accident in which she broke the young artist’s wrist. She finds the handsome Evan both infuriating and intriguing, yet not quite as intriguing as sultry torch singer Holly Winters, a performer at Susan’s favorite supper club.

A chance to make amends…

By posing nude for Evan to paint. When Susan balks, Evan, not wanting to deal with an innocent, sends her away but not before the arrival of his next model, Holly Winters. As Susan’s preparing to leave, the beautiful and talented singer convinces her to come back the next day—so they can pose together.

Will Susan find happiness in the arms of Evan Forrester—or another?

~ ~ ~
In my current work in progress, I also use art, or in this case an art gallery, as a setting for a steamy tryst between my main characters. What better place to practice a little "exhibitionism" than at an art exhibit.
~ ~ ~
 It's very easy to garner inspiration from classic paintings. One of my favorites is The Stolen Kiss (1788) by French painter Jean Honore Fragonard. It tells the story of a young woman who has escaped from a family gathering to steal a few moments with the young man she loves. As a writer, I can imagine a handful of plots from this one scene.

Another favorite is Wanderer Above the Sea of Fog by German painter Casper David Friedrich. Painted in 1819, it conjures up a feeling of lost love and romantic ghosts. If you've ever wanted inspiration for a ghostly romance, this should give it to you.

I'm fortunate to have a family filled with artists. Not me, of course. I'm lucky to be able to draw a straight line with a ruler. However, my eldest son and eldest granddaughter have both been given this wonderful gift.

I'd love to hear from the visitors to this blog. Do you enjoy a visit to the art gallery? Do you have a favorite artist? Concept? Time period?

Until next month, stay happy, healthy and well read.

Wednesday, April 25, 2018

Smiles by Jennifer Kacey

It's been a bit rough healthwise for a while so I thought I'd just post some things that make me smile!!

Decadently Yours,
Jennifer Kacey

Jennifer Kacey is a writer, mother, and business owner living with her miniman in Texas. She sings in the shower, plays piano in her dreams, and has to have a different color of nail polish every week. The best advice she’s ever been given? Find the real you and never settle for anything less.

Saturday, April 21, 2018

Romance…Variety is the Spice of Life

The romance genre is unique in that it has a huge variety of subgenres. A romance can be contemporary, paranormal, erotic, suspense, western, fantasy, science fiction… The list is endless. Even or a police procedural. You get the drift. A paranormal romance might be a lighthearted comedy or it could be extremely dark and dangerous. Same with the science fiction and fantasy. There is no end to the variety or combinations a writer can use to tell a story.

It’s one of the reasons I love reading and writing romance. There truly are no limits but one—a happily ever after, or HEA. The HEA or HFN (happy for now) is the cornerstone of a romance. If it doesn’t have it, then it’s fiction.

The relationship is also the driving force in the novel. All the other characters, drama, and setting are there to drive the relationship forward.

I’m always amazed by the imaginations and talent of my fellow romance writers. They tackle issues huge and small within the pages of their books. You can cozy up with a western (historical or contemporary), go on an exotic journey with a billionaire to the other side of the world, learn what it’s like to be a part of a wolf pack, be drawn into the struggles of a working mom or a wounded veteran. There is something for everyone in the romance genre. All you have to do is look.

One popular contemporary trope is the second chance at love. This isn’t quite that, but Enticing Emma is getting a second chance. This book was originally published in 2005 as Heat Wave, but has been given a second chance as Enticing Emma, the second book in the Summersville Secrets trilogy.

Enticing Emma
Summersville Secrets, Book 2

Damaged by betrayal . . .

Emma Howard learned the hard way that charming, good-looking men can’t be trusted, and she’s perfected the art of keeping her distance—until Tucker Martin moves into her apartment building. Their immediate physical attraction to one another is explosive, and she welcomes the opportunity to explore her newly awakened sexuality. But after a heated night of passion, Emma pulls away, unwilling to believe that a man who has everything she wants will want to stick around.

Driven by desire . . .

Tucker has wanted Emma since the first moment he laid eyes on her, and his need only grows more intense after they spend one amazing night together—until Emma goes from insatiable to unreachable. Bewildered but not broken, he’s determined to prove to her that he’s as sincere as he is sexy. And as Tucker patiently sets out to win the woman of his dreams, he knows Emma will have to face her past before they can indulge in the pleasures of a deeply loving future.

This is a fully revised edition of a book originally published in 2005 as Heat Wave.

Barnes & Noble:

N.J. Walters is a New York Times and USA Today bestselling author who has always been a voracious reader, and now she spends her days writing novels of her own. Vampires, werewolves, dragons, time-travelers, seductive handymen, and next-door neighbors with smoldering good looks—all vie for her attention. It’s a tough life, but someone’s got to live it.

Visit me at:
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Sunday, April 15, 2018


Here are a few fun facts about me: I hate to exercise. I have a sweet tooth. I just turned 50.

Back in my younger days (read 48 and under), if I wanted to lose a bit of weight due to over-indulging, I'd simply watch what I ate for a few weeks and my weight would go back down. But once I neared 50, that strategy no longer worked. A few weeks ago I tried on a pair of shorts that had always been big on me and they were...gasp, tight. 

Holy crap, how'd that happen?! At first I was in denial. "But I don't eat that much." And, "I limit my carbs." As well as, "I eat my vegetables." But the truth was: Not enough exercise, too much sugar and processed foods, and now I have the freaking metabolism of a 50 year old.

What to do, what to do?

Everywhere I look, the word "keto" pops out at me. Miraculous, fat-melting keto. So I went on Pinterest because that's my latest crack cocaine, and lo and behold, there are a million keto pins. I'll admit keto is funky because the recipes all have ingredients like bacon and butter and cheese. And while it takes a bit of effort to wrap my head around eating those foods way more than I'd choose, the catch of keto is NO CARBS. Like NONE. Well, a minuscule amount, something like under 20 grams. 

The problem with this strictness is I love all fruit. Especially summer fruit. And not being able to eat a juicy ripe peach or plum seems a bit tortuous. 

Anyway, it's been 2 weeks since I've modified my diet to include keto choices. The first few days were hell because all I saw on TV were commercials for gooey, chocolate-laden desserts. And my sugar craving was so intense I broke down and gorged on raisins (only one of the most concentrated sugar fruits around). But then gradually I switched to extra dark chocolate which is allowed, and the cravings subsided to the point where when I dished out ice-cream for my son I didn't lick the spoon! That's HUGE progress for me.

So, in a nutshell, while I'm not counting ratios and grams of this and that to achieve ketosis (the fat-burning stage), I feel like I have gotten my sugar and carb cravings under control by simply eating more fat and making more conscious food choices. I'll still eat fruit, and god knows I ain't cutting out my wine, but so far I've learned to replace spaghetti with spiraled zucchini, and salty chips with baked pepperoni and not feel like I want to rage in frustration and deprivation.

We'll see how the next two weeks goes. I'll keep you all posted on my progress. Until then...

Tiffany N. York believes Heaven will be a place where no weight is ever gained, blood sugar never rises, and the clouds are all made of full-fat whipped cream. Visit her website at

Friday, April 13, 2018

Medical Marijuana Update #2 by Jennifer Kacey

So I've learned tons more in the month since my last update! All of the info I'm going to talk about is NY since that's the only program I have experience with.

This is the Time it's supposed to take things to kick in...but I'll put in parenthesis how long it takes things to hit my system.
- Vaping - 15 min. (Some things it takes forevers or it doesn't hit at all and other kinds hit almost instantaneously - AQUA!!)
- Tinctures which I haven't tried at all - 45min to an hour
- Pills - 45min to an hour (takes almost two hours to take effect)

Dose will last...And pills take a while to kick in but they give the longest lasting relief.
- Vaping - 1-2 hours (where's off fast - believe it has something to do with a very high metabolism which we're looking into)
- Tinctures - 4-6 hours
- Pills - 6-8 hours (or if you take two one night to try to REALLY sleep for the first time in almost 2.5 years and then it lasts for like 16 hours)

At the dispensary I go to I can only pick up 3 things at a time. So that could be a pill and two vape cartridges, etc.

I learned in the highest strength vaping they have two different strains when the paperwork just showed one. So I tried Indica to start and instead of crashing me out so I could sleep it just made me giggly and I wanted to stay awake and watch YouTube videos FOR HOURS. Pretty much everything but going to sleep. So I tried the Sativa strain next and that one seems to work better for me. Still doesn't straight knock me out but makes me feel closer to sleepy. Yeah. Sleep and I are still not really on a first name basis.

Learned my middle of the road vape is a hybrid of different strains and might explain why I reacted better to it. And they have another strength in between the middle and high doses which is also a hybrid. It's Aqua. Tried that one next and really like that. It numbs my stomach almost immediately which is a welcome relief. I thought I could eat what I wanted while numb and have no after effects. I was quite wrong.
If I do all the pain dumps in my system as soon as the meds run out. Oh so not cool.

On the pills they offer a reg strength and an extra strength. I can take 1 pills or two. 1 pill at first didn't really seem to do anything, but 2 pills is CRAZINESS. See the wolverine pic above. Oh my goshness! You guys think I'm bouncy on a normal basis!!

It's taking a lot of trial and error and I'll completely admit to a very hodgy podgy process right now. I'll get more scientific about it as I move forward and I'll keep you guys posted!
Keep your heads up! We'll get there!

Decadently Yours,
Jennifer Kacey

Jennifer Kacey is a writer, mother, and business owner living with her miniman in Texas. She sings in the shower, plays piano in her dreams, and has to have a different color of nail polish every week. The best advice she’s ever been given? Find the real you and never settle for anything less.

Wednesday, April 4, 2018

Anna Alexander does the Emerald City Comic Con

Howdy gals and pals!

I missed you all last month, but I was getting my super hero on at the Emerald City Comic Con. This year was a blast! Not only did I have my booth next door to the fabulous fellas at Stranger Comics

Heather Reasby was the mastermind
behind the panel.

 but I also was on a panel discussing translating super hero stories from comics into prose.

And I did some cosplay and totally rocked Gamorra. (Captain Awesome's words)

The allure of the mystery box was strong. Captain Awesome not resist.And on top of all of that, I had a new book come out!Genesis is the first of a new super hero series that I am so excited to share with you. A little urban fantasy, a little X-men, this group of crime fighters are a start of an evolution.Genesis- Book one of the Evolutioneers
People suck, at least according to reclusive inventor Max Madden—except for his friend and mentor, Anthony. But now Anthony is dead after uncovering evidence that an avaricious financier caused the current economic crisis and is out for world domination, a man Max knows has the money, resources, and charm to succeed—his own father. Now Max is out for vengeance and he doesn’t need a distraction like Crystal Evans tagging along.The provocative psychic may have soft lips, curves like a Ferrari, and a scent like vanilla sugar, but she also has a thirst for redemption that will never be quenched. Max can’t help but admire her tenacity, and when she leads him to others who also have superhuman powers, he agrees to lead this team of crime-fighting supers if they all agree that he will be the one to take his father down.

But fate and circumstance has a way of bitch-slapping a man to awareness, and emotional hungers Max once detested have become what he now craves. When Crystal becomes the key to Madden Sr.’s downfall, Max must choose: Can he send the woman he’s come to love on the mission, a mission during which she has seen her death in a vision, or have his revenge?

Happy Spring Everyone!

Until next time!

Anna- The Super Diva

Amazon Page

Tuesday, April 3, 2018

When Your Muse Is On Vacation

I had big plans for my trip to Mexico - beyond the usual beach-chair lounging and tequila sampling. I was supposed to come up with a new idea for my Resort Romance series.

That didn't happen.

I know the title. The set-up. The location. I knew what hijinks my hero and heroine were going to get up to while they fell in love. I just needed the final piece to make the story fit together.

Sadly, I did not find it at the bottom of my margarita glass. And I checked repeatedly! (Because I'm no quitter.)

So, now I have a ton of pictures and research and no grand romance to tie them all together.

Maybe you all could suggest something.  What do these pictures inspire in you? How would your ideal couple fall in love in this setting?

Monday, April 2, 2018

Rank and File by Ripley Proserpina

How is it that a bill that is supposed to stop sex trafficking has ended up yanking romance titles from Amazon’s search engine? Romance authors from self-published writers to EL James have lost their rankings and disappeared into Amazon’s erotica dungeon. 

Stop Enabling Sex Traffickers Act (SESTA) “makes it illegal to knowingly assist, facilitate, or support sex trafficking," and amended the idea of “safe harbors.” This means online services are no longer immune from civil liability for the actions of their users. Because of this change, platforms like Amazon, Microsoft, and Craig’s List have been removing anything which could make them liable for not “moderating content.” 

What does this mean for romance writers? 

Well, romance books have a spectrum of love scenes. There those which fade to black, there are sweet scenes, and there are more explicit scenes. “My book isn’t erotica,” is the refrain this week of authors who have to deal with losing their ranks and visibility. 

So I went to find a definition. Wikipedia defines erotic romance and erotica (including erotic literature) as two different things, but Amazon and other online services are lumping them into one group as they attempt to comply with the SESTA. 

I’m hoping that SESTA is enforced in the vein in which it was intended, and not as a censorship of literature. I think this week we’ve seen that even the best intentions can be misinterpreted. 

Interested in reading more about this? Here are some links… 

How a New Senate Bill Will Screw Over Sex Workers

Romance Writers of America: Amazon Ranking/Classification Issues

Amazon Is Burying Sexy Books, Sending Erotic Novel Authors to the 'No-Rank Dungeon'

Microsoft to ban 'offensive language' from Skype, Xbox, Office and other services

Major tech-industry group drops opposition to sex trafficking bill