Giselle Marks

Regency Romance and Fantasy Author

Unabridged / Adult only

Profile perfect
Melinda De Ross lives in her native Romania with her husband and a pair of rude parrots. She attended Law School, got her degree but
worked as a journalist for several newspapers, polishing her writing skills.
It never occurred to her that she wanted a career as an author until she began writing, as therapy to get perspective on a crucial part of her life.
Melinda was a professional target shooter for a decade, winning multiple National Championships. She was breaking records in her teens until health issues forced her to give up the sport.
Out of that heartbreak, Rendezvous with Hymera—her first novel— started taking shape and so began her career as a Romantic Suspense author.
She is also the author of Unabridged, The Coriola Series (Mirage Beyond Flames and Dante’s Amulet), and A Touch Of Poetry.

Ironically, it all starts with a popular book about BDSM. When Angelina Jameson steps into her boss’s office armed with an acid article about ‘Billionaires, BDSM and Blah-blah-blah’, she thinks her career will take off. But her career aspirations drop into second place when she finds herself face to face with her nemesis.

Blade Spencer is the new editor-in-chief of Unabridged—the literary magazine where his ex-lover Angelina works. For three years, since she fled small town Jamestown without a word of explanation, they haven’t heard from one another. Now, when they meet again, the past and all the feelings they once had between them come rushing back, making them realize their love has never died. But can they reconcile their new circumstances and the changes that have occurred during the three years they were apart? Neither is the person the other used to know.
Then there is the faceless shadow who hunts them from the dark, driven by obsession and greed…

*This book contains strong language and explicit descriptions of sex.

What inspired me to write Unabridged?


In the past years, every time I blinked I saw or heard of books on BDSM. My reaction to that was to write an essay called Billionaires, BDSM and Blah-blah-blah. That essay has later become an article that my heroine, Angelina Jameson, writes as an editor of the literary magazine called Unabridged. This is in essence a simple love story, but to spice up things you will find several hilarious such satire articles, and if you ladies don’t agree with my character’s views, just think of it as simple fiction. So this is what started Unabridged:

Billionaires, BDSM and Blah-blah-blah.


I think it was ‘Fifty Shades Of Grey’ that started it for me. I heard about it from a couple of friends, who were head over heels excited about said book, so naturally I was intrigued. First, I read the reviews, and was even more intrigued by such contradictory opinions. Some said the book was brilliant, others said it was a literary catastrophe. After reading a few pages, I was inclined toward the second category, but went on reading, still curious. After another dozen of pages or so, I forced myself to read strictly as research, to see what exactly it is about this kind of literature that has inspired a mass phenomenon. With all my good intentions, I stopped at about half. It was impossible for me to finish the first book, even though I’m a very perseverant person. Not even the holy purpose of research could force my brain to go on absorbing that read.

Why? I asked myself that, and plan to make an analysis right here, one that every woman should make. To my astonished amazement, I noted that BDSM related books have become a true current, one that sells billions of books annually, most of them enjoyed by women.

The first thing that occurred to me during this study is the fight women have carried for thousands of years to be emancipated and considered equals by men. Ever since Eve’s proverbial appearance on Earth, we’ve struggled to be recognized as being as good as men, in every domain known. So why in the world—I wonder—would women enjoy, even want to be submissive to men in any way? When have smart, self-sufficient women, with self-respect, turned into females begging to be dominated in the most absurd ways? When had this regression from women to females taken place, and why? It’s beyond my understanding.

We fought for liberty and emancipation, to have our opinions, votes and rights equal to those of men, to be independent in every way possible. Yet now, in the secret corners of our dirty little minds, we dream of perverted billionaires who want to cuff us, whip us and use us as inflatable dolls? Granted, too many women in our days look like copy-pasted Barbies, pumped and stitched in places one couldn’t imagine, but still… If one looks like a doll, it doesn’t mean she has to act like one.

You want to be dominated? That’s just fine, it’s the law of nature. Every woman likes the man to be on top now and again, most often than not. But from this very natural feminine instinct, to lowering yourselves to the status of collared submissive, it’s a road of thousands of years of evolution.Unabridged FC

Even this word, ‘submissive’, personally gets on my nerves. True, I am a militant feminist and I’m very proud of that. That is what brought us where we are and that will make women heads of states. Can you imagine a powerful woman, a woman in control, who knows she is smart, strong and capable, enjoying BDSM?

Can you imagine Cleopatra—one of the most representative female figures in history—with her ass in the air in front of Caesar, getting a whipping or wearing a leash? For Heaven’s sake! If there has been any whipping going on in that royal tangle, I bet she was the one to do it! A woman like that would never dream of being anybody’s submissive. Isn’t that the model we should all follow, instead of the young, stupid, helpless bimbo who actually likes to be bonded and trampled by a man?

And how about real men? Yes, we will talk about men too, of course. This is not by any means an exclusive kind of reading. Do you think a real man would feel the need to subject a woman to practice BDSM with him so he’d be able to dominate her? Do you think real men need that kind of sick artifices to feel strong and confident, or to get it up? I don’t. I, like many women my age or older, have grown with the classical heroes of Jane Austen, Mary Stewart, Sandra Brown, Jilly Cooper and so on. Can you picture one of the dashing men we all dreamed of putting on a mask and a leather gay-ish outfit, and smacking our asses with a whip? Because I can’t, and honestly, I wouldn’t want it. I don’t understand what it is about the so-called ‘art of domination and submission’ that turns on normal people, healthy men and women, with healthy fantasies. Now women don’t want to make their own money, they dream of being bought—I mean, swept off their feet—by billionaires who lock them in their castle basement and do shameful things to them. And this is supposed to be erotic?

Every overweight, unkempt housewife dreams about muscled hunks who fuck them blind, instead of dragging their big asses to the gym and making themselves look good for the men they have at home. Fine, they’re no Brad Pitts, I’m sure. But if you’re not an Angelina Jolie, what claims can you have? Instead of reading stupid books and stuff your faces with chocolates, while your men crave for other women, you should do something about it! And then, maybe your husbands/boyfriends/lovers will start doing something about their own appearance and attitude. If not, there’s always a better one waiting for the chance to have a great woman at his side.

Today’s culture has degenerated beyond measure. A semi-naked bimbo rubs her crotch while screeching something unintelligible and millions of people go crazy in ecstasy.

This, along with what I was saying above, makes the difference between women and cavewomen, men and cavemen. It’s your choice on which side you’d rather be, but before choosing, I felt the obligation to the feminine race to spread some light and thoughts over the world, to make you all see what exactly you like, or think you like, so much. —Angelina Jameson.




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Dragon’s revenge by Kasper Beaumont

Book Synopsis

Dragon’s Revenge is the thrilling conclusion to the Hunters of Reloria trilogy. 
Magical Reloria is beset by hordes of invading enemy ships carrying giants with ocular laser beams. People and creatures from across the land band together against the invasion, while our group of heroes, the Hunters of Reloria, seek to restore the defensive shield to their borders. A savage attack on the dragons’ town decimates the population and leads the surviving dragon to pledge revenge against the invaders. 
Epic battles with dragons and giants ensue, leading to a thrilling climax.

Cultural Cocktails

Kasper Beaumont will be featured by Janice Ross at 08:00AM EST, be sure to tune in and call in too if you would like to join the conversation please do so using the number: 

Excerpt from Elven Jewel (Book 1)

This is an excerpt from chapter 5 of Elven Jewel and the first time we see the beast.  The characters are 2 elves: Princess Shari-Rose and her guardian Daeron; the dwarven brothers Baja and Raja; and four brave halflings: Old Fandri; his son Fendi; friend Randir and a huntress named Sienna. They have been tracked to an inn by their adversary, the Vergai invaders.   I hope you enjoy it.

They followed the sounds of struggling around the corner of the inn and saw an incredible sight.  A sopping wet Princess, wearing only a towel, was being held by the arms and legs by four of the scaly Vergai.  Another of the creatures was trying to muffle her screams with his clawed hand, which she was biting on as hard as she could and causing him to growl in frustration.

All around them was a battle.  Sienna held a green-stained dagger in one hand and was struggling with three of the creatures, two of which had arrows protruding from their torsos.  Green blood was drying around the arrow shafts. The huntress stabbed at the invaders and aimed at the thinnest area of their thick hide on the sides of their neck.  Her bond fairy was a short distance away and was so intent in watching the fight that he did not see a Vergai’s rough hand closing around him from behind.  The Vergai clapped his hands together and both fairy and halfling collapsed to the ground unconscious.

Fendi had grabbed a long dagger from the inn and Old Fandri drew his broad sword.  Fendi was momentarily stunned by being in such close proximity to the large and fearsome Vergai.  He exchanged a wide-eyed glance with his father, who gave a short nod.  Together they charged towards the Vergai with a roar.  Old Fandri stepped ahead to engage a Vergai with his sword and didn’t see one of the creatures whip around and strike Fendi solidly with his long thick tail.  The young halfling gave a grunt and fell to the ground.

The final four Vergai were moving to surround Raja, who was flailing about a two-headed axe, as though he was berserk.  Baja gave a yell and rushed to his aid.  Baja threw a small axe, which felled one of the creatures, and then the dwarf got out a large wooden club and proceeded to bash all the Vergai on their knee caps.  The two dwarfs were much shorter than the Vergai (who were about human height), but they made up for it in their fighting prowess.  The Vergai all stood well back from the half-crazed little men.

Old Fandri entered the fight over by the Princess.  One of the Vergai let go of her arms and rushed at him with a chained morning star, spinning around dangerously.  Fandri was forced back towards the wall of the tavern and stumbled to the ground.  The Vergai was just about to land a killing blow with his rotating spike, when a long sword covered in green blood, appeared through his chest.  Daeron had come to Fandri’s rescue.

The powerfully-built elf looked dizzy on his feet, with a bandage wrapped around his head from Lakehaven.  He extricated his narrow sword from the Vergai and threw him to the ground.  Then he held his hand down to help up the old halfling.  “Thanks,” panted Fandri.  “I’m getting too old for this.”  He looked around and saw that the Vergai were taking advantage of the chaos and half-carrying, half-dragging the screaming Princess off into the night.

Fandri looked at the other fighters and realised  the Vergai were gaining the upper hand.  Fendi, Sienna and Baja had been knocked out cold and Raja was the only one still fighting, but was totally surrounded by several big fighters.  Old Fandri was just thinking that all was lost when a powerful screech filled the night.  A flapping of great wings and a mighty burst of flame lit up the sky.  The Vergai around Raja screamed and ran after the Princess.

The sky went dark again, after that brief burst of light.  All that Fandri could see was a huge dark shape, blotting out the stars.  It screeched again and a huge burst of flame whooshed right over the top of the fleeing Vergai.  Their thick scaly hides appeared to deflect the flames, but they screamed and howled and ran in all directions.  The winged beast flew to where the other Vergai were running with Shari-Rose and it picked them off her, one by one and threw them far into the distance, where they land with dull thuds.

The beast tenderly picked up Shari-Rose in its great talons and very carefully carried her back to the halflings and dwarves.  Her wet towel flopped to the ground by Old Fandri’s feet.  She looked like a child compared to the enormous creature cradling her in one sharp claw.

By the light from the half-shuttered inn windows, Fandri, Daeron and Raja could see the beast was a great, grey dragon.  Its body was four times as tall as a man and had a thick, scaly hide.  Its wing span must have been about 40 foot or more and the flap of the huge wings brought large gusts of air swirling all around them.  Emerald jewels gleamed from under the wings, as though they were embedded in the scales.  The dragon’s head had many horns and a large mouth with sharp teeth.  Its muzzle was long, with wide nostrils, issuing trails of smoke.

The dragon’s large, yellow eyes looked at each of the fighters below intelligently before gently placing the Princess on the ground.  Shari-Rose stared up at the great beast which had rescued her and was utterly speechless.  She didn’t even have breath to scream in terror.  The dragon flapped its gigantic wings and rose up into the sky.  It circled the inn once, then flew off in the direction of the Vergai.

About Kasper Beaumont

Kasper J. Beaumont was born and raised in Australia and lives a quiet life with the family in a seaside town. Combining a love of fantasy and a penchant for travel in the Hunters of Reloria trilogy, Kasper started to write on the urging of friends and family and enjoys watching readers become immersed in the magical world of Reloria. Kasper is a pen name for a rather shy author who is happy to remain unnamed.
The Hunters of Reloria trilogy is about the magical world of Reloria where halflings and fairies share a bond. Dwarves, elves, knights and dragons inhabit this country, but their world is about to be invaded by scaly lizardmen and giant Cyclops.
Book 1: Elven Jewel was published as an ebook and paperback in 2013.
Book 2: Hunters’ Quest ebook 2013 and paperback in 2014
Book 3: Dragon’s Revenge is the thrilling conclusion, ebook July nd paperback November 2014.

Connect with Kasper


Buy links

Amazon EJ
Hunters’ Quest
Dragon’s Revenge
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Author page


Sanguinary by Margo Bond Collins

Sanguinary, by Margo Bond Collins

A Night Shift Novel


Forthcoming Fall 2014













 Only fifty years left before vampires rule the world.


When Dallas police detective Cami Davis joined the city’s vampire unit, she planned to use the job as a stepping-stone to a better position in the department.


But she didn’t know then what she knows now: there’s a silent war raging between humans and vampires, and the vampires are winning.


So with the help of a disaffected vampire and an ex-cop addict, Cami is going undercover, determined to solve a series of recent murders, discover a way to overthrow the local Sanguinary government, and, in the process, help win the war for the human race.


But can she maintain her own humanity in the process? Or will Cami find herself, along with the rest of the world, pulled under a darkness she cannot oppose?



Here’s the Rafflecopter link:


And the code:


<a id=”rc-0764121176″ class=”rafl” href=”” rel=”nofollow”>a Rafflecopter giveaway</a>
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About the Author


Margo Bond Collins is the author of urban fantasy, contemporary romance, and paranormal mysteries. She has published a number of margonovels, including Taming the Country Star, Legally Undead, Waking Up Dead, and Fairy, Texas. She lives in Texas with her husband, their daughter, and several spoiled pets. Although writing fiction is her first love, she also teaches college-level English courses online. She enjoys reading romance and paranormal fiction of any genre and spends most of her free time daydreaming about heroes, monsters, cowboys, and villains, and the strong women who love them—and sometimes fight them.

Connect with Margo

Amazon Author Page:
Twitter: @MargoBondCollin
Goodreads Author Page:
Facebook Author Page:


Margo’s Other Books:

Taming the Country Star
Legally Undead
Fairy, Texas
Waking Up Dead
Beyond the Count

Buy Taming the Country Star

Kindle US:

Nook US:

Kindle Worldwide:


Buy Legally Undead




Amazon Paperback:

Universal Kindle Link:


Buy Fairy, Texas

Amazon (Kindle):


Barnes & Noble:

Books a Million:

Book Depository:


Buy Waking Up Dead

Kindle from Amazon:

Nook from B & N:

Paperback from these booksellers:
Barnes & Noble:
Books A Million:
Book Depository:


Buy Beyond the Count



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Madame Lilly, Voodoo Princess: Soulless (Volume 2) by Dormane G



soulless ebook cover 600Madame Lilly, Voodoo Priestess: Soulless (Volume 2)

Book Synopsis

The time is 1890, the place, New Orleans, and Odara is lost to Madame Lilly, her soulless side—and she has not finished what she started. Unleashing two great forces, Theolus and Hearon, with ferocious appetites against her common-law husband, Henry Nicholas, is just the beginning of the end for Lilly—only she doesn’t know it yet.


For the spirits she raised took what was left of her humanity and left a piece of themselves within her; a piece that craves chaos. Needing to maintain control over them to do her bidding, Lilly must do what is required even if it means becoming more like them.


Tortured, scorned and damned, Lilly has one mission in life: Retribution.


Book Excerpt


“Henry tasted salty sweet as sweat dripped down his body from the muggy hot weather Louisiana offered deep in the swamps, especially fierce under the brutal sun.

Back here no one cared about a man’s cries. Creatures here only cared about one thing: Survival. There was no one around other than the mosquitoes competing with Hearon, both desiring the splendor of his blood. The bush crickets were too busy singing to their mates to hear Henry’s cries, and the gators were lying in wait to feed on the bodies tossed their way after going missing in the bayou, the reptiles becoming accessories to vicious human crimes. No, there was no mercy back here in the swamps.

She did not pull too much skin at once, only enough for it to cause incredible pain. The wounds needed to heal so she could do it again, until they grew tired of him or Madame said it was time to end his existence. It didn’t matter where the flesh came from but she noticed the legs and back seemed to hurt the worst, so that was where she lingered while dancing around him and watching his body tremble in fear every time she laid a finger on him”



About the Author            

I may be a nurse by profession but I’m an author by heart.I have been writing stories for many years, both in my head and on paper because me6 (1)I’ve always had a love for books ever since spending Saturdays at the library as a young child. Within a book, the mind can travel to worlds of the imagination and the beyond. I finally took the plunge and published my first novel last year, a young adult urban fantasy titled “Connor” and, this year, two adult horror short stories titled “Madame Lilly, Voodoo Priestess” and “Madame Lilly, Voodoo Priestess: Soulless.”  Each are the just the beginning of many to come as I stay locked up in my office in Colorado spinning more tales.

Get In Touch



Twitter: @dormaineg



Book trailer:


Amazon author page:


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The Stranger

A  five hundred word maximum story for Ailsa Abraham’s competition with the first sentence compulsory.

The stranger standing at her gate asked how much her house was worth.mansion-2

“Dunno, Ma’am,” Abigail declared, thinking what a nosy old woman.

“I’m to draw some interior designs for the owner.”

The van parked outside was inscribed “Abigail’s Interior Designs,” but the house had been left to her by her great-aunt Phoebe.  Abigail knew the valuation of “the Rookery” she planned to update the décor and sell it.

The woman clung to the gate-post, looking ashen grey. Abigail feared she would collapse as she gripped her chest, grimacing with pain.

“Are you all right Ma’am?” she asked.

The woman, dressed all in black, could have been any age between sixty and a hundred. Nature had been unkind and aging had not improved the job. A hooked nose and several large moles festooned with grey hairs were her main features in a mass of raddled wrinkles. But as Abigail, looked closer she saw a pair of beautiful piercing and very knowing blue eyes.

One minute the old woman was standing, then she crumpled into a heap of black draperies. Abigail moved fast, half lifting, half frog- marched her up the path to the front sitting room where she heaved her onto the sofa. The woman revived as Abigail lifted the phone, to call an ambulance.

“No doctors please, I’ll be fine shortly. If I could just have a cup of tea?” she croaked weakly.

Abigail replaced the phone and bustled to put the kettle on. Then floated back, worried about the woman collapsing again. She was sitting up and rummaging in a huge battered handbag.

“You are Phoebe’s great-niece Abigail, aren’t you?” she said more normally, the colour returning to her face.

“Yes,” Abigail said awkwardly having been caught out.

“Have you read her letter yet?”

“No, the lawyers didn’t give me any letters!”

“It’s in the top drawer of that bureau.”

Abigail looked finding a sealed letter addressed to her. She tore it open.

Dearest Abigail,

I’ve asked Jocasta to tell you about this letter.

I ask you stay one night and welcome the next person to call.

All my Love


Abigail stared at the letter in her great-aunt’s embellished writing. The kettle whistled and she looked at the old woman, she was standing. She held her hand up muttering “Blessings be on this house,” then left faster than Abigail imagined was possible.

Abigail had loved her great-aunt and so made a bed on the sofa and tired fell asleep.

The doorbell rang waking her and she went to the door.

Outside stood the most handsome man she had ever seen.

“My brakes failed, and I can’t get a signal. Can I please call…”

He stopped and stared at her as if struck down. She stared back.

“I’m Joshua, Jocasta must’ve put a hex on my van. She’s my Nan, I think Phoebe and her have set us up. Nan’s a witch, so was Phoebe…”








A Mile Apart by Sarah Jae Foster


Sarah Jae Foster has a desire to portray a raw brand of inspirational stories. While she believes there is a purpose for guidelines of inspirational works, she also believes in portraying the reality of life, as it is today.

Sarah Jae is a Christian, a wife, and a mother, wholeheartedly yet imperfectly, loving God since she was a child. She wants to share stories about characters with faith who mess up big time due to the seductions in society. In doing so, she’s willing to take a risk and be on the cutting edge of writing for the inspirational market, sharing what’s in her heart and in the world today.Image


Only one thing stands between her and the man she loves…gold

Eden Montgomery arrived in the lawless territory of Whistle Creek as a newlywed, but she quickly lost her husband to his mistress…gold, and the claim he called The Golden Angel. When a premature blast at the cave killed her husband, and took the life of her unborn baby, Eden closed the mine…for good. Now she runs the local supply store, and in her bitterness, looks down on the men who shirk familial responsibilities in pursuit of something as meaningless as gold.

Joseph Benton knows the crime, filth and disease of a mining camp is no place for a child. So when his young son Christopher suddenly arrives at his tent, he turns to Eden Montgomery to care for the boy. But the uppity and righteous Eden refuses. Joseph is shocked at what he thinks is her lack of maternal instinct. Now he’s torn between his need to strike gold…and his desire to be a father.

When a ruthless speculator encroaches on the camp, threatening Joseph and the other miners, Eden knows she must do the one thing she vowed never to do…for the one man she vowed never to love.


A Mile Apart - Sarah Jae Foster - eBook (1)It took several moments for Joseph to comprehend not only a female’s voice in the camp, but one calling out a Mr. Benton. By the time he got his bearings on the notion, his name had been called three times. Intrigued, he turned toward the whimsical voice and said with caution and curiosity, “I’m Joseph.”

In an instant, his heart fell like a stone as his eyes went from the shopkeeper to the little person at her side. Surely, his mind was playing with him and being cruel. It wouldn’t be the first time lack of nutrition did things to his head. But the apparition continued to move toward him. Then he heard a frightful word come from the boy.


He nearly choked and staggered backward. Questions assaulted him. Where was Katherine? Francis? Why is the storeowner frowning at him like she wanted to hurt him? And definitely, the man with her looked like he would carry out the deed.


The woman gave his son a small nudge forward.

Christopher ran, promptly wrapping his arms around his thighs. Joseph threw a confused glance at the woman, while planting his palm on top of his son’s familiar head. Before he could help it, he flung himself down and held on tight, likely to never let go. “I don’t understand, son. I was going to come home to you—why did you come?”

The woman emitted a sound of pity and Joseph looked up to see her turn away. Was she crying? Alarm shot through him. “Christopher, where’s your ma?”

“She’s gone and died, Pa. Her and Baby Nell.”

Baby Nell? Who was Baby Nell? He sat hunched on his heels, unable to speak, and buried his face into his hands. What had he done?

He became aware that the rest of the camp was now at a standstill—a woman and child coming into their midst was highly unnatural. Now all attention was on him and he didn’t like it. Imploringly, he pierced the woman with a look as she began walking away with the man.

He found his voice and choked out, “Wait!”

Interview Questions:

1)  Tell us a little about yourself.

My name is Sarah Jae Foster. I was born and raised in the beautiful Pacific Northwest. Growing up, I spent a lot of time with my grandma and every Friday and Saturday night, we watched all of the old, classic westerns on TV until about 2 in the morning—it was the best time!

2)  Have you always wanted to be a writer?

I never thought about being a writer when I was “growing up”, but I read about two books a week beginning at age 9 or 10, so I’ve always loved literature. What do you think contributed to that decision? The moment I decided I wanted to read stories that I could no longer find in the Christian market. That and, I’ve always researched history, I can’t think of a better opportunity to put my years of research to use—to entertain! I have a passion for reading and researching American history.

3)  What led you to write in the Christian genre?

It’s the genre I know best and all I read growing up.. I’ve since broadened my horizons and have found many more extremely talented authors.

4)  Why don’t you tell us a little about the book you are currently promoting?

Why are you passionate about it? I’m so excited to share about A Mile Apart! I began researching mining in the 1800’s years ago, it’s always intrigued me…that pull, that addiction to find the next gold strike. Last year I finally sat down and the story began. I LOVE Eden! And Joseph, well, he’s a very unlikely hero, but I kept it raw and real to the time period.

5)  Do you have any other titles already available or coming soon?

I would like to share about The Heart of a Soiled Dove, as it’s my first Amazon top 100 best-seller in all categories. It is a historical piece dealing with an ex-prostitute and her attempts to rescue other soiled doves from their surroundings. It is packed with evil sheriffs, pimps and soiled doves—the topic was definitely a challenge to keep true to the guidelines of the CBA.

6)  How did you develop your writing?

Going to conferences, utilizing and knowing the importance of a professional editor. Feedback from mentors and industry professionals.

7)  How do you write – lap top, pen, paper, in bed, at a desk?

I text ideas to myself – because naturally, they tend to come at night when I’m trying to sleep. I write everywhere, in bed, coffee shops, airports…

8)  Tell us about your new book?

What’s it about and why did you write it? I am beginning to write the second book in the Soiled Dove series. Women in the west are my heroes. The things they went through and their tough skin, is something to honor. Book #2 is about another former soiled dove, overcoming life as it was handed to her.

 9)  When you are not writing, how do you like to relax?

I LOVE going to the spa and am grateful to be able to do that. I also read and enjoy watching thought-provoking, edgy films or TV series.

10)  How often do you write? And when do you write?

At least 5 days a week. Afternoon and evening. NOT a morning person.

11)  What do you hope people will take away from your writing?

How will your words make them feel? From the reviews, I’m gathering that readers appreciate the overcoming and restoration that happens in my novels.

12)  Do you intend to make writing a career?

I was able to quit my day job Nov. 2013, so, yes!

13)  What is your greatest strength as a writer?

Keeping Christian fiction clean, yet real, raw and edgy.

14)  Will you write others in this same genre?

I will always write about the wild west. I have one contemporary out and plan on writing two more, but they are challenging for me. Writing a western comes natural.

15)  Is there a message in your novel that you want readers to grasp?

I don’t try for any messages. I want a reader to enjoy my writing, first and foremost, it’s entertainment.

16)  Where can we purchase your books and how can we stay connected with you?




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Beyond the Count – Cover Reveal



Cover Reveal

Fanfare of trumpets, flapping of Bap wings and perhaps the howl of a distant wolf or two. Margo Bond Collins reveals the cover of her first ever non fiction book, Beyond the Count, which examines the history of Vampire stories.



Blurb for Beyond the Count:

Long before Dracula, vampires stalked the literary scene.


These early literary vampires are sometimes terrifying,  at times melodramatic, and occasionally ridiculous, but they are always out for blood—and their vampiric descendants continue to fascinate and captivate us.


Beyond the Count  is a collection of vampire stories, plays, and poems from the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries. This collection gives students, scholars, and vampire aficionados the opportunity to examine works often long out of print and to contextualize the development of vampire legend beyond that most famous of literary Counts.

Amazon link:

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Time for What? by Giselle Marks – flash fiction


He wanted to slap the condescending smile off doctor’s face as he told him he had three months to live. His words washed over Cameron Anderson, explaining the cancer was too far advanced and there was nothing they could do. He wrote a prescription for pain medication.

Then he continued on, “You’ve got time left Mr. Anderson, time to put your affairs in order. I recommend you enjoy what time you have left. Take a trip, see your family, do things you’ve always wanted to do.”

The doctor’s smile was saccharinely professional but didn’t reach his eyes. Cameron’s hands clenched, but he allowed no emotion to show on his face.  He reached for his script and politely thanked him for his unwanted news.

Cameron shut the door quietly behind him, strolling towards his car with a calm untroubled expression. But his mind was busy considering what the doctor had said.

My will is already made; I have sufficient money to live well or to take any trips I want to. What should I do with my three months? Anything I really want to do would have to be done soon, because I doubt I’ll be able to do much when the pain really kicks in.

At that thought his stomach stabbed with excruciating agony. His mobile phone rang in its hands’ free container; the hospital number was flagged up. Cameron ignored it.

He had no desire for a luxury trip or to see relatives who had little time for him, they were already dealt with. He could picture their faces when his will was read and found he had left them nothing. He had had successes since Asrotech let him go, made money; enough to leave each of his grasping family very well off. They would hate him leaving it all to a drug rehabilitation scheme.

No what he wanted was revenge, revenge against Asrotech for stealing his design of the photo-electric recharging system for electric cars. It made them billions; their head tech got the Nobel Prize. It was putting oil companies and garages out of business all over the world. It had dropped the Arab nations into a downward spiral of recession. The credit and prize should be his.

Cameron packed his car on reaching his house, paid some bills and ignored the blinking of his answer phone. He left his mobile behind and bought a new phone. He was one of the first shareholders to enter the conference room at Asrotech; he noticed a few employees rushing to warn their superiors of his attendance. He had not had difficulty getting what he needed. He sat at the front and smiled pleasantly at former colleagues as they ringed the room nervously. The seating filled up with enthusiastic shareholders who had been doing very well from Asrotech’s sudden prosperity.

The Board of Directors traipsed in with Chairman Horace Kenworthy at their head. They did a double take on seeing him although they must have already been aware of his presence. One of the board read a pompous self-aggrandising statement about their successes and profits. Questions were asked and answered and champagne was served. The meeting was beginning to break up and he stepped forwards towards the board committee and triggered the bomb.

The bloodshed was massive, most of the shareholders escaped uninjured but he brought the ceiling down on the board of directors, only two survived seriously injured. Cameron died instantly.

The hospital had been trying desperately to contact him since he had left the hospital, they had rung his numbers, send a pile of letters apologizing for the mix up. It was unfortunate his notes had been muddled with those of an older Cameron Anderson. All the messages requested that he should come back for treatment for his ulcer and apologized profusely that he had not got cancer at all.


55 word flash!

Blue Ghost Thingy

“Do you see the blue ghost thingy over by that tree, Dear?”

“Sorry, I’ve not got my glasses on, did you say ghost, Arthur?”

“Well it looks like one to me, could be one of them aliens”

“They’re all the rage Arthur, do you think they’ll kidnap us?”

“Shouldn’t think so, Ethel…”

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A Community of Butterflies by Barbara Shoff

A community of butterfliesA Community of Butterflies: Chrysalis (Published by LilyBearHouse, LLC.)

On-again-off-again psychic Vay Armstrong has a plan to change the world. Following ten years of domestic violence and abuse, she struggles with post-traumatic stress, paranoia and an inability to trust others. Determined to escape her reclusive life, she enlists the help of other abuse survivors to create a utopian community within Jakesville, Oklahoma. Will Vay be able to overcome family opposition, a romantic entanglement and a homicidal stalker to make her vision a reality, or will her only reality be a cold hole in the ground?”   Excerpt 2 He stared at the photograph taped on the wall at eye level, pretending she could hear him, pretending she was with him, pretending many things that were just not true. “You think you are so smart. You forget you belong to me.” One hand went to his crotch, the other pointed directly at the photo of her smiling face. “You took those vows. You said you would obey… remember? You will do what I say, when I say, and no judge can change your promise. Do you understand?” He rubbed himself. “You remember I have my ways to make you do what I tell you, don’t you?” His hand pressed harder against his flesh. His breathing grew heavier, faster. He closed his eyes, perspiration dripping from his forehead; he lost himself in the memory of her cries. “You are mine. You belong to me,” He experienced a familiar rush… the rush he had the first time his fist slammed into her face…the sight of her blood dripping from her mouth…the warm salty taste as he crushed his mouth into hers. He fell back on his bed grimacing in the throes of his bliss. “You’re mine. All mine. Only mine… or you’re dead….”     ‘ … just when the caterpillar thought the world was over, it became a butterfly … ”

backpageinsert Barbara Shoff began writing before she could write. At the age of five she would make up dialogue for her friends so they could perform plays. They charged a nickle a performance to “the old people” (parents and grandparents) in the neighborhood. The stage was a front porch with a blanket curtain. Their group was quite successful which kept them in bubble gum and popsicles most summers. In the 1980’s Barbara had a column in a small town Missouri newspaper. It was called, “BJ’s Corner.” She wrote it for free. She became serious about writing and began penning articles for several women’s magazines. “I sold my first article for $25. I was so excited I screamed so loud you would have thought it was for 25 million. I have written brilliant ad copy as well as very dull assembly instruction manuals.” Severely social media challenged two years ago, Barbara became the accidental Pundit on PolicyMic. It was when she had her non-fiction expose’ complete and was looking for a publisher when Barbara decided it was high-time the old dog started learning new tricks. As a survivor of domestic violence and abuse she wanted to give back to her community. “Social workers educating survivors living in a shelter about domestic violence and abuse is ass backwards. These women already know better than the social workers what happened. The ‘whys’ research is still sorting out. What survivors need to learn is how protect themselves and support themselves while they heal and transform into something stronger and more beautiful than they were before. To that purpose, I wrote a stalker thriller, A Community of Butterflies: Chrysalis as the first book in a trilogy.” Barbara has picked every brain she could find to try to figure out about the ins and outs of developing a “platform” and how social media works for writers. She took a social media for dummies class at a local technology center. “I almost learned some things about Facebook. The next day they changed it. “I hired a fifteen year old to teach me asking, how something was done. He would shrug his shoulders and say, ‘Dunno. Let’s try this. Nope, not that, Let’s try this.’ Fifty dollars later a light went on and I decided to try stuff on my own. I watched YouTube videos until my eyes crossed, took a spiral notebook full of notes and finally built a website. “I am still learning. Now both books are published. I am signed up on almost every freaking social media site there is and am maybe, kinda, sorta getting an idea of how they possibly work. Mostly I’m praying Oprah or Ellen will ‘discover’ me and I can concentrate on writing my books and going to shelters giving chrysalis building lessons. “Oh, yeah. In 2013 I was honored to be a member of the inaugural cast of Oklahoma City’s production of Listen to Your Mother. You can watch me on YouTube by searching, LTYM OKC Barbara Shoff.”

Contact the Author FB: barbarajshoff Blog:   Contact Info: FB: Blog: Amazon:

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Island Hopping

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My guest today is the authoress Janice C Ross, who I have featured once before.

Janice G. Ross was born in Guyana, South America and migrated to theMe Portrait USA in 1980. She is an author. She enjoys writing about social issues and personal experiences. Her debut release was entitled Damaged Girls. She uses the three books in that series to detail the effects of different forms of abuse, discussing issues that are known to be taboo. Her latest release, Jumping Ship, is a dedication to her country of birth and an introductory novella to the Island Hopping Series – due out in 2014. It’s poised to be a colorful and emotional experience of life, love and family.

Janice enjoys reading. And is drawn to stories with distinct characters that she can love or hate, characters she can form alliances with or characters that she can swear off and despise. She is also weak for a good cultural tale, preferably in the form of historical fiction. Janice loves to be taken off guard by clever language and settings. Janice is also a devout supporter and promoter of other authors through social media. She hosts a weekly show, Cultural Cocktails, on the largest social radio network, Blog Talk Radio.


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There’s a murder, but the author keeps light. 

The sexual scenes, too are on a light note and there is no bad language.


Island Hopping by Janice C Ross

On the surface, the Island Hopping series is a remarkable journey of Sakkara Riley’s IH template w multi (1)quest to locate her parents. What she learns is so much more than was ever expected. In Island Hopping: Trinidad & Tobago, Sakkara enlists the help of a local elderly historian, Natalia Day and her doting grandson, Anthony Lam. Equipped with her parcel of artifacts and a determined bravado, Sakkara uncovers more than she ever thought possible.


Turning upward to get his attention, she encouraged him to dance. Her words were not enough to overtake the powerful sounds of the calypso and soca rhythms, so he did something that nearly caused her to melt into oblivion. He leaned down to the side of her face, gently moved aside dark brown tresses, placed his lips to the very edge of her lobes and whispered. She didn’t entirely make out what he said, but his warm breath shot through her entire body, resting at her navel. When he was finished, Anthony grazed the side of her face with his lips. Before she could rebuke his boldness, she was directed into the crowd, trying in earnest to save face.

Many of the tunes were already familiar, though she couldn’t always quote them verbatim. A couple of times, she even caught Anthony mouthing a few lines, not many but enough. And, as his lips moved, she fell into a trance. Before she knew it, Sakkara forgot about her inability to move her hips, twining like a cleverly skilled Trini-native. They were able to wine their waistlines, easily transitioning from north to south and quickly back again. Though she couldn’t master every stunt as perfectly as the others, her efforts were commendable.

Whenever the partygoers were hyped up over the band’s selection and a particular dancer’s unmatched style, the atmosphere set out a spark so great that even Sakkara was swept into the scene. She forgot her intentions for being in Trinidad. Her lids fell shut and she surrendered. Even at one point, when the DJ declared that they were kicking it back a decade, Sakkara was amazed when she heard the song We Ain’t Going Home by Tambu because it had been a favorite of a school friend by the name of Sasha Benton. When they had study time, Sakkara could never understand how the girl managed to focus and maintain her grades while listening to the fast-paced beats. But Sakkara remembered how excited Sasha had become and how she would tear away in all types of loose movements. At that moment, Sakkara felt her friend’s energy.

Anthony must’ve seen the transformation, having positioned her right in front of his chest. She didn’t resist, not even when he dipped and gripped her hips. The magic of the blaring horns and fervor of the performer’s abilities were enough to wipe out purpose, at least for the night.



Giveaway Details

USA ONLY: 2 autographed paperback copies of “Island Hopping: Trinidad & Tobago” 

(w/ bonus copy of “Jumping Ship” Introductory Novella)


International: 3 e-copies (any format) of “Island Hopping: Trinidad & Tobago” 

(w/ bonus copy of “Jumping Ship” Introductory Novella)

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