Dress Up, Dress Down with Patricia Preston!

Please join me in welcoming author (and fellow Supernatural fan) Patricia Preston to the LAM blog! *****************

In Everything His Heart Desires, Brett “Hot Rod” Harris is a cardiologist, but he’s also a guy who was raised on the wrong side of town by his uncle who took him in when he was a little boy. He grew up working in his uncle’s car garage and he has a passion for muscle cars, which he collects. He’s considered the “James Dean” of the medical staff because he often wears a brown leather bomber jacket instead of a white coat. When he’s not in scrubs, he prefers tee shirts and jeans along with his jacket, all of which go perfectly with his fast cars from the Sixties and his attitude.

The heroine, Natalie, who has known Brett since high school, sums up his appearance in an excerpt from the book:

She had left the summer of her graduation from Lafayette High School fifteen years ago and never returned. Not until now. She had never expected to have another cup of coffee in the Country Corner Café.

And she’d certainly never expected to see Brett Harris again.

She shook her head, amused as she thought of him, checking her out in the elevator and going for it. He still oozed with confidence and cockiness. The genius from the wrong side of town who didn’t let anything intimidate him.

Nobody could sport a leather bomber jacket and jeans as well as Brett.

She had to admit he was actually better looking now than he had been in high school. More mature. Laugh lines enhanced his hazel eyes, which were a blend of deep green and light gold. His coffee-brown hair was thick and unruly, which she’d always liked, and he was in need of a shave. He wore masculinity well.

EVERYTHING HIS HEART DESIRES

The man most likely to drive her crazy…

Growing up in Lafayette Falls, senator’s daughter Natalie Layton hid her sorrows behind a bright smile that charmed everyone in high school—except Brett Harris. Hardworking and highly motivated, Brett disissed Natalie as a slacker. Instead, she’s become an acclaimed photographer. And when Brett, now a successful cardiologist, needs her family’s help to secure a coveted position, Natalie’s more than happy to prescribe a little payback…

Hailing from the wrong side of the tracks, Brett believed he could never win the school’s popular princess. Now he’s intrigued by the complex and compassionate woman Natalie’s become. Gaining her grandmother’s goodwill is the key to becoming chief cardiologist—and Natalie has no intention of making it easy. But as mutual mistrust gives way to pure chemistry, there’s more at stake than either ever expected—and much more to learn about matters of the heart…

Buy Links: Amazon Nook  Kobo Google Play iTunes

Patricia Preston loves writing mainstream romantic fiction where love matters most as well as short stories and historicals. She has won the William Faulkner Award for Short Fiction, the Lone Star Writing Competition for Historical Romance, and Harlequin's World's Best Romances Short Story Competition. The small Southern town where she resides and her work in local medical clinics and hospitals both provided inspiration for her “Love Heals All” series. Besides writing, she enjoys photography, cooking, movies, bargain hunting, driving the Natchez Trace and visiting historical sites.

For info on new releases and contests, sign up for her newsletter

Visit her Blog. Follow her Twitter and Amazon

From the Author:

Thanks for joining us today. I write mainstream romantic fiction as well as funny short stories. Must haves in my writing cave include sweet tea, epic music and plenty of notebooks. Besides writing, I love music, history, the French Quarter, photography, reading and anything containing chocolate. I’m a fangirl of Supernatural and Walking Dead. I don’t do much with my life other than write.

If you like single title romances that are filled with family, friends, drama and fun, check out my Love Heals All series, set in the picturesque town of Lafayette Falls, south of Nashville. Or if you like historicals filled with adventure and passion, you might enjoy “To Save a Lady,” set in the sultry French Quarter in 1814 featuring a dashing captain and an elusive French spy.

You can follow me and check out my titles at my Amazon author page

or visit my website at www.patricia-preston.com and stop by my blog. Be sure to sign up for my newsletter! Thanks!

Dress Up, Dress Down with Author Rosalie Redd

Thanks, Rosalie, for dropping by the LAM Blog!

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What do my characters wear? The characters in my Warriors of Lemuria series live in an underground Keep in the forests of the Pacific Northwest. Tanen is the hero in Unimaginable Lover, book 3 of my Warriors of Lemuria series. He is a Stiyaha, one of the shape-shifting Lemurian warriors sent here from the planet Lemuria to battle over Earth’s most precious resource—water. Educated and cultured, Tanen has an affinity for the finer things in life, including his clothing. He wears hand-tailored slacks, a finely crafted belt, button-down cotton shirts with a starched collar, the required warrior boots, and his lapel pin. The finely crafted jewelry represents Lemuria or “Mu” and life ever after. The slightest wrinkle or crease in his clothing is not tolerated, and he wouldn’t be caught dead without his pin.

As council leader, Tanen must uphold the laws. When he takes on a solo mission to track down a traitor, things don’t go as planned. Mortally wounded, he seeks shelter from the sun’s killing rays in the closest structure he can find—a ramshackle shed on human territory. Rescued by a kind-hearted woman, she nurses him back to health. The disarray in her home grates on his nerves, but not as much as his desire for the forbidden human female.

Blurb:

A shifter and a human together? Unimaginable…

One careless decision. The colony betrayed. Tanen’s only course is a desperate hunt for justice, but his solo mission is cut short when he’s mortally wounded. Rescued by a sweet, innocent woman, he can’t deny the passion that burns between them. Now he must choose between his duty and honor or his desire for the precious, but forbidden, human female.

Broken promises and ruined love hardened Sheri’s heart. When she finds an injured and extraordinarily sexy man on her property, she’s pulled into a world she never imagined. As she nurses him back to health and they bond over their love of books, she’s torn between the lessons she learned from her rough past and the need to seek solace in Tanen’s arms, but she must learn to trust him, and herself, in order to survive.

Bio:

After finishing a rewarding career in finance and accounting, it was time for award-winning author Rosalie Redd to put away the spreadsheets and take out the word processor. She pens paranormal, science fiction, and fantasy romance in her office cave located in Oregon, where rain is just another excuse to keep writing.

Social media links:

Website: http://www.rosalieredd.com

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/rosaliereddauthor

Twitter: https://twitter.com/RosalieRedd

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/user/show/34148783-rosalie-redd

Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/rosalieredd/

Amazon author page: https://www.amazon.com/author/rosalieredd 

Excerpt:

A nervous chuckle bubbled from her lips. “See, Coop, no problem—”

Coop pushed past her, and a low growl eased from him. In all the time she’d had him, he’d never reacted this way before. She gripped his collar, holding him in place.

Thump.

Her heart skipped a beat before revving into overdrive. Adrenaline surged through her veins, her face tingling from the rush of blood. The urge to flee overwhelmed her, and the muscles in her legs and arms tensed.

“Ahhhh…” a distinctive male voice eased from the gloom.

Coop lunged, yanking against her grip. His barks continued.

“Quiet, Coop!” Her companion hushed, but he strained against her hold.

A dark form slumped against the far wall.

She inhaled and took a step back.

The man groaned louder.

“Who are you? What are you doing in my shed?”

The only sounds, his labored breaths and her own heartbeat.

She emboldened her tone with as much confidence as she could. “You’re trespassing. I’m calling the police.”

“No…don’t.” His words were short, strained, yet the tenor of his voice weaseled its way into the deepest recesses of her soul. The sensation warmed her insides. She held her breath.

He moaned again. His dark form moved.

Her medical training kicked in and she had the urge to rush to his side and help him, but she remained wary. “Are you injured? Should I call an ambulance?”

“Is it dark outside?” His strained speech carried across the small space.

A strange desire to hear him speak again washed over her. She fisted her hand. “What difference does it make if it’s dark outside? If you’re injured, you need help.”

“Please, tell me…is it,” a quick intake of breath, “…dark yet?”

The cultured way he spoke made her still. She’d never heard his accent before. Sweat broke out on the back of her neck, dampening her collar. He seemed in pain, but she wasn’t sure. Her curiosity warred with her fear, and she wavered between barricading herself in her house with Coop and rushing to aid him. Instead, she remained fixed in place.

“It’s dusk,” she choked out, her throat tightening from her confusion.

He leaned his head against the wall. She couldn’t see his features, but from his outline, she could tell he was a large man. “Don’t…fear me. I’ll leave…soon…dark.” His words washed over her again, stroking her insides.

With a quick move, he stood. A stifled groan eased from his lips, and he rested his shoulder against the wall.

She took a step back. It took all of her inner strength not to run.

Buy links:

Amazon US: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01N7K0PCU

Amazon AU: https://www.amazon.com.au/dp/B01N7K0PCU

Amazon UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B01N7K0PCU

Amazon CA: https://www.amazon.ca/dp/B01N7K0PCU

B&N: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/unimaginable-lover-rosalie-redd/1125333110

Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/unimaginable-lover

ibooks: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/id1185271791

Dress Up, Dress Down with L.M. Brown: Falling into Darkness #MFRWAuthor

Falling into Darkness is a story that takes place over a lengthy period of time. And when I say lengthy I mean epic. The story begins shortly before Lucifer falls from Heaven and sets himself up against God, continues right up to the present day, and then on into the future. You’d think that would be a lot of costume changes for my guys, wouldn’t you? I’m afraid that isn’t the case. Much of this story is set in the realm of angels or in the Underworld, where clothing doesn’t move with the times. Michael and the other archangels like their comfortable robes too much to give them up. They are creatures of habit and quite set in their ways. The classic angel attire is what they wear most of the time.

In the Underworld, the domain of Lucifer and the demons, things are a little hotter and the robes have been discarded in favour of tunics, which are cooler to wear, but still very old-fashioned.

What both the angels and demons need to remember, is to change into modern clothing when they walk the Earth.  At some points in the story, this turned out to be a handy way to show the passage of time. The modern era, as we know it, was entered the moment Lucifer decided to torture Michael by dragging him round clothes shops. Since angels (and Lucifer) can change their clothes with  nothing more than a thought, it was an entirely unnecessary venture, but it did help highlight the time period for the reader.

So there you have it, my angels are mostly dressed in typical robes of a bygone era, but with the power of a thought, they can blend into any culture by donning the appropriate garments. A handy power to have, I’m sure you’d agree.

Falling into Darkness by L.M. Brown

A Male/Male Romance

Blurb

Their love could save the soul of a fallen angel or damn an archangel to an eternity in Hell.

The realm of angels was created as a paradise where angels could watch over the earth as mankind took his first steps. For the archangel Michael, it is the only home he has ever known and he could never envisage another life. Michael’s life changes the day his path crosses that of the favoured son of the morning. From the moment he sees him, Michael wants Lucifer for his own. When the two angels come together the passion surprises them both.

Their love is forged in Heaven, but is doomed the moment Lucifer falls from grace to become the leader of an army of demons.

Separated by war, the former lovers know the time will come when they must face each other in battle.

Their confrontation will set in motion events that neither could have foreseen. For Lucifer it is the chance to persuade Michael to stand at his side, as his partner as leader of the demons. For Michael, it is a mission to save his lover’s soul, while risking his own.

Torn between his love for Lucifer and his duties as an angel, Michael walks a fine line, where one wrong step could result in his own fall from Heaven, and an eternity in Hell.

Excerpt

Across the table from him, Gabriel’s jaw dropped in apparent surprise as he stared at something over Michael’s shoulder.

Next to him, Raphael twisted in his seat and his expression morphed into one of shock too.

Michael wondered what might be happening behind him, yet he couldn’t move a muscle to see for himself. His spine tingled and he had the strangest sensation someone was staring straight at him.

“What is it?” he whispered, and in the silence of the room even his quiet question seemed obnoxiously loud.

“The son of the morning,” Gabriel murmured as he set Michael’s plate back in front of him with a shaky hand. “Lucifer.”

Michael must have misheard. Lucifer never came into the communal areas of Heaven. He, along with the other favorites, remained solitary, rarely associating with the rest of the angels, and never in a crowded setting such as this.

Slowly, barely able to draw breath, Michael faced the entrance.

Lucifer stood in the archway, the morning sun behind him. There could be no mistaking his silhouette for that of another.

In the brightness of the light, Michael couldn’t tell what Lucifer searched for, at least not for sure. Only his instincts told him Lucifer had eyes for him, and him alone.

Slowly, Lucifer strolled into the room. Every angel in his path stepped aside to let him pass. Some bowed their heads respectfully, but he didn’t acknowledge their deference in any way.

Finally he arrived at Michael’s table and came to a halt.

“Good morning,” Lucifer said.

“I…” Michael mumbled, once again silently cursing his ineptitude.

“I see you still have trouble forming sentences,” Lucifer commented. “Let us hope you can manage more than a single word by this evening.”

“Er…”

Raphael gathered his wits together first and rose to make a sweeping bow. “Great angel, welcome to our table. Won’t you join us and partake of the fruits?”

Lucifer spared the archangel a momentary glance. “I have already eaten this morning.”

Raphael didn’t seem to know what to say, so he sat back down with a bump.

Lucifer returned his attention to Michael. “This evening, at sunset.”

“Where?” Michael asked, his voice croaking embarrassingly.

“Rumor has it your beach is quite pleasant.”

Michael nodded, not trusting his voice enough to try speaking again.

“Tonight then, Michael,” Lucifer said, before sweeping away in a flurry of robes, everyone once again stepping aside to make way for him.

“The son of the morning knows your name?” Gabriel asked as soon as Lucifer had gone. “Is he the one you’ve been meeting each dawn?”

Michael ducked his head. “I wouldn’t say I was meeting him, exactly.”

“But you have been with him in the mornings?” Raphael pressed. “You kept that quiet.”

There would be no escaping the interrogation and Michael accepted he had to come clean.

“I couldn’t sleep one night and ended up walking through the lands to the north of here. I chanced upon Lucifer coming to the pool of jewels one dawn. It seems he visits there most mornings.”

“And you’ve been at the pool with him,” Gabriel concluded.

“I wouldn’t say with him,” Michael mumbled. “I just happen to be in the area at the same time.”

“Just happen?” Raphael chuckled and leaned in to whisper. “I heard a rumor that when Lucifer is diving for jewels he disrobes completely.”

Michael’s face heated again.

Gabriel roared with laughter. “You’ve been spying on Lucifer?”

“I wouldn’t call it spying,” Michael replied.

“But everyone else would,” Raphael teased. “Oh, Michael, what would we do without you to keep us entertained?”

Raphael and Gabriel laughed and teased him for a little while longer, until Gabriel asked the question that had been bothering Michael ever since Lucifer’s appearance.

“If all you’ve been doing is ogling him, how did Lucifer know your name?”

Michael shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe I projected it telepathically without realizing.”

“Or maybe he’s been watching you too?” Raphael suggested.

Buy Links

Pride Publishing - https://www.pride-publishing.com/book/falling-into-darkness

Falling into Darkness will also be available at Amazon, All Romance Ebooks and other online stores from 13^th December 2016.

Bio

L.M. Brown is an English writer of gay romances. She believes that there is nothing hotter or sweeter than two men in love with each other… unless it is three.

When L.M. Brown isn’t bribing her fur babies for control of the laptop, she can usually be found with her nose in a book.

Links

Where to find L.M. Brown

Website & Blog – http://lmbrownauthor.wordpress.com/

Facebook – https://www.facebook.com/L.M.Brown.author

Twitter - @LMBrownAuthor

Dress Up, Dress Down with L.M.Brown #MFRWAuthor

Please join me in welcoming L.M.Brown to the LAM Blog. What do you think of when you think of vampires?  Elegant and sophisticated is often what springs to my mind.  The classic Dracula as portrayed by such greats at Christopher Lee in the old-fashioned suit, for example, is such a staple in how vampires are portrayed.  Men frozen in time and wearing clothes of another era, no matter how many centuries have passed.

I don’t know about you, but I believe vampires would have to adapt a little better than that, if they hoped to stay under the radar and avoid all those vampire slayers.

Tom, the vampire hero (and I use the word hero in the loosest sense) of my newest release has been around for about a hundred years, but unlike the vampires of literature he does his best to blend in and adopts modern clothes to help him do that.  Rather than finding him in a dark suit and cravat, he’s more likely to be found slobbing around the house in jeans and a t-shirt.

My vampire is one who moves with the times and his clothing reflects that.

That doesn’t mean he is entirely against the classic vampire attire, but he sticks to that sort of garb at Halloween, when he’ll still manage to disappear into the crowd.  Of course when the crowd is a bunch of half-dressed, covered in body glitter, Twilight fans, he still sticks out like a sore thumb.

But he does try not to draw attention to himself, even if he isn’t very good at it.

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French Kissing Vampires for Beginners by L.M. Brown

A male/male romance

Blurb

Tom is your typical modern vampire.  He lives in a detached house in the suburbs, pays his taxes, and bemoans the price of bottled blood.  He doesn’t usually tell people what he is, but sometimes it can’t be helped, like now, when he has toothache and needs the assistance of a dentist.

Martyn’s night isn’t going too well at all. He’s working late, his patient is a vampire, and now they’re being mugged. But what sort of a vampire is Tom if he can’t leap to the rescue and use his superpowers to save them?

There’s only one way to find out and Martyn, a self-confessed geek with a love for all things vampire, intends to get to know Tom better, despite the bloodsucker’s fear of dentists.

Excerpt

Outside, the street seemed to be deserted, but in this part of town, you could never quite tell for sure.

“Where are you parked?” Tom asked.

“The staff car park, round the back.” Dr Coleman gestured down the street, toward the corner he had hurried round earlier.

“I’ll walk you to your car,” Tom said.

“Why?”

“Because it’s late at night, and this is a rather disreputable area.”

“I’m a grown man and perfectly capable of taking care of myself.”

Tom could tell he’d insulted the dentist, but decided to ignore the man’s annoyance. He walked toward the alley leading to the car park and waited for Dr Coleman to join him.

The dentist rolled his eyes and marched ahead of him, leaving Tom hurrying to catch up.

Half way down the alley, a shadowy figure stepped into their path.

“Your wallets, now,” the mugger demanded.

Tom caught the quick flash of a blade, and he flashed a smugly satisfied, albeit brief, smile at Dr Coleman.

Dr Coleman stared at him expectantly. Tom frowned. He had a feeling the dentist was trying to convey some silent message to him, but he had never been particularly good at interpreting body language. Mind reading would have been real handy right now. Unfortunately, while fictional vampires had the ability, Tom didn’t.  Life as a vampire had been disappointing from day one, and it hadn’t improved over the years.

“Hurry up,” the mugger snarled. “If you poufs can stop making googly eyes at each other.”

“Excuse me?” Tom asked. “What did you call me?”

The mugger jabbed the blade toward them. “Stop stalling and hand ‘em over.”

Tom sighed, gave a moment of thanks that he had very little cash on him, and tossed his wallet at the mugger.

“What are you doing?” Dr Coleman asked. “Aren’t you going to fight him?”

“Fight?”

“Using your, er, unique abilities.”

“I don’t have any.”

Dr Coleman frowned. “What? None at all?”

“No.”

“But you insisted on escorting me to my car. Wasn’t the reason in case something like this happened?”

“I was being polite.”

Buy Links

MLR Press Amazon (universal link) All Romance Ebooks

Kobo

Bio

L.M. Brown is an English writer of gay romances.  She believes that there is nothing hotter or sweeter than two men in love with each other… unless it is three.

When L.M. Brown isn’t bribing her fur babies for control of the laptop, she can usually be found with her nose in a book.

Links

Where to find L.M. Brown

Website & Blog – http://lmbrownauthor.wordpress.com/

Facebook – https://www.facebook.com/L.M.Brown.author

Twitter - @LMBrownAuthor

Where It Begins: Writing a Prequel

At first glance it would seem that writing a prequel would be easy. After all, the outcome is known. The problem is how much and what needs to be included to tell the story. After Midnight, prequel to House of the Rising Son, had a particular problem. Cheyenne is introduced in HOTRS as a single father of two children. You, the reader, asked who and where were their mothers.

Of course I know. I have the backstory. I know why the children are with him. But I presenting their mothers, Ria and Jewel, as women/vampires who love their children AND care for Cheyenne was tricky. They didn't easily give up the kids. They made the tough decision to part with their children as a matter of safety. The children's safety.

Obviously After Midnight was not a book that would have a Happily Ever After ending. But a Happy For Now between Ria and Jewell was necessary. So the story ended at a moment of joy for them.

It was an interesting novella to write. I hope it supplies some answers to readers and perhaps raises questions about when and where the moms reappear. As for the actual transfer of the children to Cheyenne, that story will come. When they make their next appearance Ria and Jewell will tell us.

After Midnight is available on Amazon. 

Dress Up, Dress Down with Marie Dry

Happy Friday! Let's welcome Marie Dry to the LAM Blog today, talking about her book, ALIEN BETRAYED. ********************************

NAKED ALIENS AND CLOTHES DOING DOUBLE DUTY

I thought it was really amusing, doing a blog about my characters clothes. Why? Because mostly I forget to put clothes on them. I literally have to go in afterwards and make sure they’re not running around naked. In the process I learned a lot about the function clothes serves in a story.

The first editor at Black Opal Books who worked on Alien Mine thought the Aliens in the Zyrgin Warriors series walked around naked. I was shocked that she could miss the wonderful description of their uniforms, loaded with weapons that became the size of pennies when placed in their pockets. Then I went searching for the specific paragraph where I described it. It wasn’t there! I had to go in and put clothes on them. I was mortified, this was my first book to be published and I did something so careless. The worst part was that I could see their clothes so clearly and knew the function they served and it only happened in my mind. And I managed to forget to put it down on the manuscript.  I knew from the beginning that their clothes were made of some really strong material with some amazing properties, allowing them to simply step out of their shoes without using laces and their uniforms were developed to withstand most weapons. I wanted their clothes to juxtapose their primitive joy in battling with swords. To illustrate that this was a culture with advanced technology even though they come across as rather primitive in their ideas.

After that I went and checked a contemporary I’ve been fiddling with and yip, no clothes. Once again the heroine’s clothes were clear in my mind, but not on the page. She’s a rather frumpy dresser and much more interested in developing her mind than her fashion sense. To make matters worse, her way of looking at herself and what she wear through the book, illustrate her acceptance of herself as a beautiful woman by the end of the book. Or it would have if I’d just taken the time to really describe her clothes. Since I made the changes and ensured that the clothes mirrored her development the story has improved.

What I learned from this was that clothes can illustrate aspects of the character, they can show the technological stage of development of a civilization or poverty or riches, it can illustrate the characters jobs or lack of jobs. In other words, clothes has their own job to do in a story. They can also do absolutely nothing if the author, namely me, don’t use it as a tool.

Mary Buckham wrote an excellent craft book. Active Settings by Mary Buckham. I cannot recommend this enough. She has examples that illustrate what I tried to say above. Here is a link to amazon to her book. A Writer's Guide to Active Setting

Thank you for inviting me to write for your blog. I’m off to make sure my Gargoyle is wearing clothes and not running around Cape Town naked.

More about Marie

All her life Marie Dry has read romances and was fairly young when she decided she would travel the world and write the perfect story that had all the elements she looked for in a romance. In 2007 after living in Morocco for four years and back in South Africa, she shared a pizza with a friend and promised to go all out with her writing and to work at getting published. In 2014 her first book was published by Black Opal Books. Two more books has since been published and a fourth contracted.

There are several wonderful moments in her life that she would never trade for anything. One of them is meeting President Nelson Mandela and the second being published.

www.mariedry.com

Marie's Amazon Page

Find Marie on Goodreads

BOOK BLURB

ALIEN BETRAYED

In a bleak and apocalyptic future, where the Zyrgin Warriors are getting ready to conquer Earth, Marcie is sent to infiltrate the alien stronghold in the Rocky Mountains, only to be betrayed by her own people. Instead of stealing the alien’s technology and accomplishing her mission of causing mayhem and destruction among them, she is captured by Larz, an arrogant alien, who wreaks havoc with her heart when he insists that she will be his woman. Still, he may no longer want her when he discovers her secrets…ones she doesn’t even know she has.

EXCEPT: CHAPTER 1

Larz clasped the training sword with both hands and swung it in a wide arc around his head, conquering his favourite patch of the Rocky Mountains.This was the closest a Zyrgin warrior came to the human emotion of joy. The sword fit his hand like an extra limb. His body moving with strength and fluidity gifted to him by generations of the strongest blood on Zyrgin. Still swinging, he moved the sword to his left and then his right hand, increasing his speed until his movements became a blur.

Every day after his warrior duties, he came to this rocky patch on the mountain.Practiced to ensure he was worthy and ready for the day the leader of all Zyrgin territories would give him his sword of honor. That was the moment all warriors lived for. When their leader, who they called The Zyrgin, gifted them with a sword that would respond to the touch of a certain warrior only. Warriors from a strong bloodline, and some warriors born stronger,received swords that, with the aid of technology, could be made to shrink to nearly invisible size. To the enemy, it looked as if they disappeared and appeared as if by magic.

Many warriors used their cloaking technology to make it seem as if they had received such a sword from The Zyrgin. Larz knew he’d never have to resort to such measures. He was from The Zyrgin’s bloodline, descended from the strongest Zyrgin that ever ruled.

Larz lunged sideways then stepped back, performing the sequence of the warrior conquering with his sword with ease. Instinctively compensating for the uneven boulder strewn patch he stood on. Though his movements were swift and smooth, as a warrior’s should be, today he performed without his usual fierce concentration.

Worry for his human occupied his mind. Months ago, shortly before his second change, he claimed Marcie as his breeder after they rescued her from a raider camp. Everyone else called her a loud, mean woman with ugly red hair. Not a day went by without one of the warriors offering to kill her or bring him a better human. When he looked at her, he saw his breeder. A woman he’d never give up.

If he claimed her after he went through his third change, it might mean he had to give up his need to do battle in their wars, to serve on the Zyrgin homeland. The friend of Natalie and Julia, Sarah had disappeared more than a year ago and it had taken many months to find her in a raider camp. She had been starved and bruised and told them Marcie was responsible for many of the things that happened to her in that camp. They may have rescued Marcie from a raider camp, but they were certain she was sent to infiltrate them. Her attitude made her very unpopular. Shortly after they brought her to their guesthouse, she’d tried to hurt Sarah and Sarah had been moved to live with Natalie. Larz had to go through his third change soon, or he might not be able to claim her.

From the time the first Zyrgin ruled, millions of centuries ago, Zyrgin warriors were not allowed to claim a breeder before their third change. It was a strange knowing each warrior carried within. Larz turned and decapitated an imaginary enemy behind him. His third change was months away, and he needed to claim Marcie before she got herself killed.

He stumbled and compensated for the uneven rock beneath his boots. Adding challenge to his workout, he closed his eyes. A warrior who owned a foul-mouthed human had to be prepared for anything.

This barren patch of the alien planet he was born on, this little piece of earth, always drew him. On the hard rock, where no trees grew and no reintroduced wildlife ventured, he was reminded of his home planet. Out here, with the exotic earth sun shining down on him, he could think about claiming a strangely compelling woman with a mean mouth and ugly red hair. Make plans for keeping her safe from the consequences of her actions.

Zorlof, his brother, ran up to him, his pre-second change body small, but stronger than that of a human male. Their doctor couldn’t explain why he took so much longer than Larz to go through his second change, but all indications were that he would be very strong once it did happen. Zyrgin warriors were born with the knowledge of battle, with strength in their small bodies. With each change their knowledge and strength grew. In Zorlof’s case, he suspected that strength and knowledge might be much stronger in him than the average warrior. Even taking into account their strong bloodline, Zorlof was taller and stronger than any pre-second change warrior born for centuries.

Zorlof easily leaped over a few boulders and increased his speed until he skidded to a halt in front of Larz.

“Marcie tried to kill Zanr to get to Sarah. She screamed she’d kill Sarah the whole time,” Zorlof said.

The mountain blurred around Larz and noise rang in his ears. Like their ship’s klaxon, instead of danger to the ship, it heralded danger to his human. Larz sank down on his knees and leaned his head on his sword. “That human will drive me to Solarian drink.”

If she had simply gone after Zanr, they would’ve laughed at the idea of a human woman trying to overcome a Zyrgin warrior. No warrior would give an attack from a human woman any serious attention, beyond ensuring she didn’t hurt herself. Threatening the Zyrgin’s breeder? Larz might not be able to save her.

His time was up. He had to choose between Marcie and being a warrior and probably his life. Give up everything that defined him to save that female who had no concept of honor. He didn’t understand her mean nature and why she hated Sarah this much? If she was sent to infiltrate them, wouldn’t it make more sense to befriend them?

Larz closed his eyes and prayed for patience. Would the woman never stop putting herself in danger? When he claimed her, he’d make sure she understood that such behavior would have severe consequences for her. Ever since they rescued Marcie from the raider camps six months ago, she’d angered every human and Zyrgin who came into contact with her.

Dress Up Dress Down with Rachel Leigh Smith

Please join me in welcoming Rachel Leigh Smith to the LAM blog! ~~~~~~

My Name Is A’yen is set in the far distant future, after humanity has spread through the stars and encountered another species, the Lokmane. Out of fear, humanity enslaved them and so succeeded in wiping out the past that the Lokmane don’t believe there was ever a time they were free and had a home.

A’yen, the main character, also believes this. As a slave, and a male of his species, he can’t afford to dream like that. Humans are afraid of him due to his size and strength. Lokmane men always top six feet in height, and they’re telepathic. Though most of them aren’t able to use it.

He’s not a big fan of clothes. Neither are the other Lokmane males. Starting at the age of 18 and broken up into three sets, they’re covered with metallic ink tattoos to provide humans with an easy way of controlling them. Because of how their bodies process electromagnetic energy, the tattoos, called markings, are torture to endure. Both having it done, and living with it.

Unfortunately, going around half-naked is dangerous for a Lokmane male. A’yen prefers wearing cotton shorts and soft t-shirts when he has to get dressed. In his ideal world, he never has to wear a shirt. He’s not fond of shoes either, since one of the marking sets covers the tops of his feet.

His heroine, Fae Hart, is an archaeologist. She’s almost always in cargo pants, boots, and loose, breathable shirts. Since he’s helping her on her dig, and they’re on an unexplored planet, he’s wearing the same things. Much to his dismay.

A’yen has lived most of his life in pain, so his clothing choices are designed to lessen it as much as possible. It’s something I have personal experience with, unfortunately.

The excerpt I’ve chosen is one where he’s stripped down to go swimming. And he can’t help thinking about Fae. Though at this point in the story, he doesn’t really like her.

Bio: Rachel Leigh Smith was swept off her feet at the age of six by Magnum, P.I., then again at nine by Frank Hardy. She remembers her favorite romance novels by the hero’s name, so of course she writes romance for the hero lover. She lives in central Louisiana with her family, a half-crazed calico, a ginger tabby lion, and a menagerie of book boyfriends.

www.rachelleighsmith.com www.facebook.com/rachelleighsmithauthor www.instagram.com/rlsauthor www.pinterest.com/rachelleighgeek www.goodreads.com/author/show/8425584.Rachel_Leigh_Smith

Blurb:

They've taken everything from him. Except his name.

The Loks Mé have been slaves for so long, freedom is a distant myth A'yen Mesu no longer believes. A year in holding, because of his master's murder, has sucked the life from him. Archaeologist Farran Hart buys him to protect her on an expedition to the Rim, the last unexplored quadrant of the galaxy.

Farran believes the Loks Mé once lived on the Rim and is determined to prove it. And win A'yen's trust. But she's a breeder's daughter and can't be trusted.

Hidden rooms, information caches, and messages from a long-dead king change A'yen's mind about her importance. When she's threatened, he offers himself in exchange, and lands on the Breeders Association's radar. The truth must be told. Even if it costs him his heart.

Excerpt:

He kicked back again, eyes closed, and Dr. Hart’s face filled his mind. For the first time, he didn’t shove it away. Instead, he ignored the fact she owned him. Still couldn’t bring himself to think of her as mistress. To him, the word was intimate, symbolic of a relationship they didn’t have. Without doubt she was one of the most beautiful women he’d ever seen. In a playful, impish sort of way. Her nickname fit.

What would it be like to kiss her? He didn’t shove that thought aside either. Full lips begged to be teased, tasted to their fullest. Her green eyes, almost too big for her face, captivated him. Whether he was ready to voice it or not. So deep, almost mysterious. Glossy black hair with just the right amount of wave. How would it feel on his skin?

A physical attraction like this wasn’t unusual for him, or the other Loks Mé men he’d talked to over the years. Fantasizing was safe. No one got hurt this way. It was acting on it that broke hearts and families.

Which meant he needed to stop it now before the urge to act on it became a need and ruined everything. He’d acted on his attraction to Tala without getting to know her first. Not a mistake he needed to repeat with someone he was likely stuck with for the rest of his life.

On the other hand, Mother was right. He had to let her in, show her he wasn’t a smart-ass all the time, that he could accept her authority. If he didn’t give a little and show her he could be obedient and respectful, she’d never give him even an inch of freedom. He’d spend the rest of the journey locked in their quarters, bored out of his skull. Not be allowed to explore the planet where he’d tasted the closest thing to total freedom any Loks Mé had ever known.

Before he could change her expectations, first he had to meet them.

Easier said than done.

Dress Up Dress Down with Ava Cuvay

Please join me in welcoming "out of this world" romance author, Ava Cuvay to the LAM Blog! ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hi! Thanks for letting me come chat about the importance of attire in my upcoming book Love and the Corps. My character’s choice of clothing in this book, and in specific scenes, was particularly fun to write because it helped to complement/contradict my characters.

My heroine, Captain Jo Behsue of the Corps, has a large scar across her face and a strong, sturdy body (thick in all the right places). Rumor has is she is 90% dude, and she has never bothered to prove the rumors wrong. Because she is career military, her clothing choices center around her Corps-issue, boxy, sexless uniforms. She finds the prospect of having to wear a delicate satin evening gown more terrifying than being inserted in the middle of battle with only her fists as weapons. While her uniforms intrigue my hero—is she a plentiful handful or a sweet little mouthful? —the sight of her womanly charms beautifully displayed in a gown sets his passion aflame.

By contrast to his love interest, Lux Krotah of the Klorakian mercenary army—like all his kind—is tall, lithe, and silver, with a beauty nearly effeminate in nature (except for his muscles!). Where the Corps is a blunt, brute-force type of military operation, their girly Klorakian counterparts embody grace in all things, from their physical features to their combat tactics to their architecture and clothing. So, while Jo must wear a gown to the royal ball, the Klorakian ceremonial formal dress is… a skirt. A kilt of iridescent scarves covering just enough of Lux to make Jo’s mouth water.

In Love and the Corps, I enjoyed dressing my characters to contradict stereotype, while trying to keep them sexy in the eyes of the one person who matters: Their Happily-Ever-After. At the very least, I get to have an alien character dressed in a sexy kilt!

Love and the Corps Snippet

Two harried hours later, Jo eased her way through the palace corridors. The quiet halls echoed the soft patter of her sandals—dainty, strappy sandals which were the epitome of femininity, but at least their heels were flat. Her steps were careful, cautious. She attempted a slow, gliding gate, unnerved by how her unsupported breasts swayed and jostled within the bodice of her dress. If she was overly cavalier with her movements, her breasts might escape their delicate confines.

Only one layer of luxurious satin rested between her naked body and disaster.

K’Ahla and the servant girls had transformed Captain Jo Behsue of the Corps into a creature she did not recognize. They had crafted a flowing, watery gown from satin sheets purchased but never used by the former dictator—Jo appreciated the subtle insult to his failed legacy—and swept her thick hair upon her head in a simple chignon she could never replicate. They applied enough make-up for her eyes and her lips to catapult off her face and diva-slap her scar until it faded to obscurity. Jo had stared at her reflection, wondering who the lovely woman was on its surface. Tendrils of dark hair curled at her nape and temple. The dress revealed enough of her olive skin to tempt without putting her on vulgar display. The bodice fell gracefully from one shoulder, over her full breasts, and cinched at her waist. The skirt cascaded to the floor and, as she walked, the hem fluttered like her own ethereal cloud of blue. With each step, the side slits allowed a long, muscular leg to peek through before ducking shyly behind the folds of the fabric.

Jo had to admit K’Ahla and the other women had accomplished the impossible. She was beautiful.

As she made her way to Lux’s room, eager to see his reaction to her transformation, she tried not to ruin their miracle with unnecessary movement. She was accustomed to clomping around in fatigues and boots, giving no regard to how her hair looked or how she moved her body. One wrong turn or a carelessly placed foot could ruin all their hard work.

She turned the corner and saw his door was ajar. Her heart hammered in her chest, her inner soldier immediately at arms. Had someone entered and killed him? Had the despot brother achieved revenge without raising a single alarm? She tiptoed through the opening, her hand at her thigh where her knife was strapped. Even for such a formal occasion as tonight’s ceremony, she was not about to go completely unarmed. Though what she saw next did a damn good job of it.

Lux was alone. And alive. And naked but for a skirt of wispy scarves held low on his waist by an intricate, gem-studded silver belt. A wide collar of matching gems glittered at his neck. What was left was a long, wide expanse of smooth, silvery skin filled to rippling with sleek muscles. Muscles she’d explored with her hands several times. Muscles which could kill in a flash, yet had made her body sing so divinely. Her mouth watered and her body heated. She’d never seen a man in a skirt before, and knew many planets where such a sight was a death wish. Had anyone asked her opinion before this moment, she would have assumed the clothing choice would render the man effeminate.

The vision before her was anything but.

Lux was all man, and one hundred percent sexy. Like Klorakian architecture, he was a perfect meld of power and elegance, fluid grace and fierce strength. He leaned back against the wall, an arm slung casually over his head, the other resting on the exposed thigh of a leg propped against the wall at his back for support. The pose was both relaxed and seductive, an upright version of how he might look in bed after lovemaking. What would it be like to kneel before him, part the scarves like a curtain, and take him into her mouth?

Fire burst in her nerve endings at the thought.

Ava’s Bio:

Ava Cuvay writes out of this world romance featuring sassy heroines, often-alien-but-always-sexy heroes, and an alcoholic beverage or two... Set in a galaxy far, far away. Think "Star Wars" meets "Firefly", without Jar-Jar Binks, and with a lot more heat.

She resides in central Indiana with a hubby who makes her laugh and kiddos who are growing up way too quickly. She enjoys the world of wine and spirits, amusement park thrill rides, and laughing at her own foibles (yeah, she laughs a lot).

She believes life is too short to surround yourself with negative people, and Han Solo shot first. When not writing, Ava is thinking about writing. Or wine. And she’s always thinking about bacon.

Look for “Love and the Corps” Book two of The Heart Nebula Series. To be published by the end of the month!

www.AvaCuvay.com

Ava Cuvay Amazon Author Page

Dress Up, Dress Down with Nicole Evelina

Please join me in welcoming multi-award-winning writer Nicole Evelina, as she presents to us the story of an unconventional woman, Victoria Woodhull. Victoria Woodhull – Clothing as Rebellion in late 19^th Century America

My latest historical fiction novel, Madame Presidentess, is about Victoria Woodhull, the first woman to run for President in the United States. Not only that, she was also the first woman to run a stock brokerage on Wall

Street (co-owned with her sister, Tennie), the first to testify before a sitting committee of Congress and one of the first to run a weekly newspaper (also with Tennie).

Given that, you may be wondering why clothes would matter in this novel. Well, Victoria was also what they called at the time a “sex radical” – that is, is she believed in the concept of Free Love. To her, the term meant that a marriage should begin when two people fell in love and end when they are no longer in love, without interference from the government. (It was difficult to get a divorce in 19^th century America; in many states, the only way you could do so was by proving adultery.)

It is likely that Victoria was introduced to the Free Love movement by her second husband, Col. James Blood. As a member, she wore her hair short (at least for the time), adopted a more masculine form of dress (without the bustles and corsets common at the time) in protest of the sexual inequality between men and women.

Her sister, Tennie, joined her in this movement. On the day they first opened their Wall Street brokerage, they purposefully adopted a more masculine outfits, wearing instead of corsets and bustles, deep blue jackets embroidered with rich velvet which were broad at the shoulders, but tapered to contoured curves at the waist, over matching skirts that reached only to the tops of their shoes. That, too, was a carefully planned statement, designed to draw attention and remind onlookers that while they were too modest to show their ankles like common whores, they also were no ordinary women. They wore no ruffles, jewelry or makeup that would define them as overtly feminine, choosing for their only accessories bow ties made of silk.

Another day, Victoria is said to have shown off an outfit she wanted to wear when she was President. She shocked her friends, at least one of whom was a reporter for the New York Sun, by changing into dark blue pants that ended at the knee and were buckled over light blue stockings. On the top she wore a dark blue tunic with a man’s collar and cravat. The following exchange is said to have taken place between her and the reporter.

“This,” Victoria declared, “is what I intend to wear in the streets of New York, and at my banking house on Broad Street.”

“Mrs. Woodhull, if you appear on the street in that dress, the police will arrest you,” the reporter replied.

“No, they won’t. When I am ready to make my appearance in this dress, no police will touch me.”

And as far as records show, she was right, though it’s uncertain if she ever appeared in that particular getup in public. Victoria did later find herself in jail, but the reason had nothing to do with her clothing and everything to do with her unwillingness to keep quiet in the face of injustice and coddle those in power.

By using what she wore as an expression of what she believed, Victoria was making a strong statement of non-conformity to her time. Even when she didn’t wear outfits that we overly aligned with the sex radicals, she preferred to avoid corsets and wore no jewelry, only a white rose at her throat, which would become her trademark.  So as you read Madame Presidentess, try not to picture her as a typical 19^th century woman. Her hair was short, her clothes unconventional and voice loud. She was not one to be silenced then and its time her name is in the history books now.

---

Madame Presidentess

Forty-eight years before women were granted the right to vote, one woman dared to run for President of the United States, yet her name has been virtually written out of the history books.

Rising from the shame of an abusive childhood, Victoria Woodhull, the daughter of a con-man and a religious zealot, vows to follow her destiny, one the spirits say will lead her out of poverty to “become ruler of her people.”

But the road to glory is far from easy. A nightmarish marriage teaches Victoria that women are stronger and deserve far more credit than society gives. Eschewing the conventions of her day, she strikes out on her own to improve herself and the lot of American women.

Over the next several years, she sets into motion plans that shatter the old boys club of Wall Street and defile even the sanctity of the halls of Congress. But it’s not just her ambition that threatens men of wealth and privilege; when she announces her candidacy for President in the 1872 election, they realize she may well usurp the power they’ve so long fought to protect.

Those who support her laud “Notorious Victoria” as a gifted spiritualist medium and healer, a talented financial mind, a fresh voice in the suffrage movement, and the radical idealist needed to move the nation forward. But those who dislike her see a dangerous force who is too willing to speak out when women are expected to be quiet. Ultimately, “Mrs. Satan’s” radical views on women’s rights, equality of the sexes, free love and the role of politics in private affairs collide with her tumultuous personal life to endanger all she has built and change how she is viewed by future generations.

This is the story of one woman who was ahead of her time – a woman who would make waves even in the 21^st century – but who dared to speak out and challenge the conventions of post-Civil War America, setting a precedent that is still followed by female politicians today.

 More about Nicole

Nicole Evelina is a multi-award-winning historical fiction and romantic comedy writer. Her most recent novel, Madame Presidentess, a historical novel about Victoria Woodhull, America's first female Presidential candidate, was the first place winner in the Women’s US History category of the 2015 Chaucer Awards for Historical Fiction.

Her debut novel, Daughter of Destiny, the first book of an Arthurian legend trilogy that tells Guinevere’s life story from her point of view, was named Book of the Year by Chanticleer Reviews, took the Grand Prize in the 2015 Chatelaine Awards for Women’s Fiction/Romance, won a Gold Medal in the fantasy category in the Next Generation Indie Book Awards and was short-listed for the Chaucer Award for Historical Fiction.  Been Searching for You, her contemporary romantic comedy, won the 2015 Romance Writers of America (RWA) Great Expectations and Golden Rose contests.

Nicole’s writing has appeared in The Huffington Post, Curve Magazine and numerous historical publications. She is one of only six authors who completed a week-long writing intensive taught by #1 New York Times bestselling author Deborah Harkness. As an armchair historian, Nicole researches her books extensively, consulting with biographers, historical societies and traveling to locations when possible. For example, she traveled to England twice to research the Guinevere’s Tale trilogy, where she consulted with internationally acclaimed author and historian Geoffrey Ashe, as well as Arthurian/Glastonbury expert Jaime George, the man who helped Marion Zimmer Bradley research The Mists of Avalon.

Nicole is a member of and book reviewer for The Historical Novel Society, and Sirens (a group supporting female fantasy authors), as well as a member of the Historical Writers of America, Women’s Fiction Writers Association, Romance Writers of America, the St. Louis Writer’s Guild, Women Writing the West, Broad Universe (promoting women in fantasy, science fiction and horror), Alliance of Independent Authors, the Independent Book Publishers Association and the Midwest Publisher’s Association.

Her website is http://nicoleevelina.com.

She can be reached online at:

• https://twitter.com/NicoleEvelina
• http://www.goodreads.com/nicoleevelina
• http://pinterest.com/nicoleevelina/
• https://www.facebook.com/nicoleevelinapage/
• http://instagram.com/nicoleevelina
• http://www.youtube.com/channel/UCyi5-knSn0Abm5ujfpcHgbg/videos?view_as=public

Dress Up Dress Down with @JanaRichards_ #MFRWAuthor #romance

Please join me in welcoming Jana Richards to the Living After Midnight blog! Jana, so glad to meet you! Tell us about your book, ONE MORE SECOND CHANCE. ***********

My heroine,Julia Stewart in my contemporary romance, is a high school principal. Most of the time she doesn’t think much about her clothes. Her work uniform is “business casual”; not quite jeans but not expensive dress clothes either. As a single mother, she doesn’t have a lot of money to spend on her wardrobe, even if she did have time to shop. Away from work, she wears jeans, t-shirts, shorts, and occasionally her softball uniform.

But there are occasions when she has to dress to impress. In this scene, Julia is attending a town meeting which has been called to discuss her proposal to include a day care for the children of students at the high school. After facing some controversy, she’s trying to convince townspeople of the merits of her idea. She’s also trying to convince them that she’s still the best person to teach their children and head the high school:

On the evening of the public meeting, Julia dressed carefully, selecting a conservative gray suit, a buttoned-down white blouse, and modest black heels. She kept her makeup to a minimum and her hair in a simple low ponytail, going for a look she hoped projected professionalism and respectability.

But Julia’s wardrobe isn’t all bland. In this scene, my hero Alex Campbell describes her appearance:

The word “pretty” hardly expressed how Julia looked tonight. Gorgeous, sexy, delicious, sprang immediately to mind. Her pale blonde hair gleamed under the stage lights. She wore a sleeveless blue and white print dress that hugged her curves and ended several inches above her knees to show off shapely, toned legs. High-heeled sandals accentuated her well-formed calves. For a petite woman, she had legs that went on for miles.

Julia Stewart is like many working mothers – busy, and dedicated to her family, her job and her community. Her wardrobe is often an afterthought. But when the occasion requires, she can use her clothing to portray the image she wishes to project.

I’m currently giving away a print copy of ONE MORE SECOND CHANCE at Goodreads. For your chance to win, please enter my contest here.

I’m also participating in The Wild Rose Press authors Summer Treats Blog Hop. There are many prizes to be won. Please stop by!

Excerpt from ONE MORE SECOND CHANCE:

Alex warmed the teapot with a bit of water from the kettle, swirling it for a moment before emptying it in the sink. Then he placed a couple of spoonfuls of loose tea into the pot and filled it with hot water, letting it steep while he brought teacups and milk and sugar to the table. Julia was comforted by the little ritual that reminded her so much of her grandmother and her mother. After bringing the teapot to the table, along with a strainer to catch the loose tea, he sat across from Julia. “Tell me what happened with your parents.” He poured her tea, and Julia wrapped her hands around the cup, savoring the warmth. “My mother remembered nothing about talking to you or being outside in the middle of the night, and my father said she was sleepwalking. When I tried to tell him that we should take Mom to have her checked by a doctor, he became very agitated, so I dropped it. I was afraid he was going to get sick again. I don’t know what to do.” “I’m no expert in this area either, but I understand it’s not unusual for a spouse of an Alzheimer’s patient to deny the symptoms. I’ll talk to the hospital social worker tomorrow and have her get in touch with you. Maybe she’s got some ideas.” “Okay.” Relief flowed through her. At least she wouldn’t have to face this problem on her own. They drank their tea in silence, but the silence didn’t feel awkward. Julia felt soothed, the stress slowly leaving her body. Perhaps her grandmother had been onto something. The tea seemed to be working. She finished the last of it and set down the cup. “I should be going. I left Ava with Tracy, and she’s probably hungry by now.” Julia got to her feet and headed to the front door, with Alex following her. “Thanks for the tea, and for listening. I guess I needed both today.” “Anytime. Seriously, Julia, anytime you need to talk, about anything, give me a call.” She wondered if he was speaking as a doctor, as a friend, or as a man. Which one did she want him to be? “Thank you.” “I’ll try to keep an eye out for your folks, see if there’s anything I can do for them.” She was touched by his offer. “I really appreciate that, but I know how busy you are.” He waved away her concern. “It’s no big deal. I appreciate my grandmother’s neighbors checking in on her, and I’d be happy to do the same.” He really did understand how she felt. “In that case, thank you.” She opened the front door and stepped outside. Turning to Alex, she smiled. His thick hair had begun to dry, and the dark strands gleamed in the spring sunshine. Her breath caught in her throat at his beauty. “Bye, Alex.” “Bye. Take care.” Julia hurried down the steps and across the lawn to her car. An appreciation for his looks was as far she could take any relationship with him. Her life was too complicated, too full already. And she would never get involved with a man who planned to leave Lobster Cove in only a few more months.

Jana Richards’ Bio:

When Jana Richards read her first romance novel, she immediately knew two things: she had to commit the stories running through her head to paper, and they had to end with a happily ever after. She also knew she’d found what she was meant to do. Since then she’s never met a romance genre she didn’t like. She writes contemporary romance, romantic suspense, and historical romance set in World War Two, in lengths ranging from short story to full length novel. Just for fun, she throws in generous helpings of humor, and the occasional dash of the paranormal. Her paranormal romantic suspense “Seeing Things” was a 2008 EPPIE finalist.

In her life away from writing, Jana is an accountant/admin assistant, a mother to two grown daughters, and a wife to her husband Warren. She enjoys golf, yoga, movies, concerts, travel and reading, not necessarily in that order. She and her husband live in Winnipeg, Canada with their Pug/Terrier cross Lou and several unnamed goldfish. She loves to hear from readers and can be reached through her website at www.janarichards.com

Social Media Links:

Website: http://www.janarichards.com Blog: http://janarichards.blogspot.com Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/JanaRichardsAuthor Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/JanaRichards_ Amazon Author Page: http://www.amazon.com/author/janarichards Amazon UK Author Page: http://www.amazon.co.uk/-/e/B002DEVWWG Newsletter Signup: http://www.eepurl.com/m3UnT Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/2892274Jana_Richards Google+ Profile: https://plus.google.com/100820406211390323245

Dress Up, Dress Down Featuring Guest Author, Adam Mann #MFRWAuthor

Please join me in welcoming Adam Mann to Living After Midnight. Mike, tell us about the attire of folks in your book BODY HEAT-Naked and Afraid. ***Due to internet issues, this Friday Feature was delayed until today. ***

*************************************

There is nothing that you can elaborate when you're naked!  You can't hide any blemishes or scars, but in this story neither participant is concerned as they quickly get used to seeing one another wearing absolutely nothing.  There may be an inherent fear when you're not dressed, which is really irrelevant, fear of what?  The original TV program is called Naked & Afraid, but afraid of what?

BODY HEAT:

Jennifer and Charles team up to start their own 21 day wilderness programme, without clothes, food or drink, or a TV sponsored back-up team.  They choose a remote area, and as complete strangers they only meet a day before the adventure starts!  Watch the sparks begin to fly, not from the fires they light, but from the passion that somehow ignites between them.

Excerpt:

The reply from Charles startled her:

Jennifer, could you please arrange to take four weeks off, preferably next month, and tell me the dates so that I can arrange to travel.

I’ll fly to Bangkok, but I don’t think that we should meet there. Make your own way to Nan, and I’ll suppose we’ll have to meet there and travel to the site together.

I’ll hire a small car in Nan so that we can leave our clothes and possessions in it until the end of the twenty-one days, unless you have a better suggestion.

That means we’ll organize our own drop point and our pick up point ourselves, again your comments would be most welcome.

We have to cheat a bit, as we need some maps.

Please tell me what you think we should each take.

Jennifer was amazed at her own compliance with Charles’s suggestions. This sort of adventure holiday was just what she had wanted to do for years, but at this stage she had overlooked the lack of clothing factor!

At her office the next day, she completed the form for annual leave, and her boss signed it without reading it. She filed it with the Personnel department. They did not read it either before they filed it.

Her email back to Charles amazed both of them:

Four weeks leave starting1st November.

I’d like to meet you in Bangkok, so that we can recognize one another.

Car hire good idea, but my family may have a better suggestion.

I’ll buy a sharp machete, with a saw-tooth back, locally made are good.

Please bring the fire lighting equipment yourself.

I’ve got some local maps, which are a bit out of date.

I look forward to meeting you,

Jennifer.

Jennifer typed: I’ve got two locally made hessian bags.

More about Adam Mann:

Adam Mann has written twenty four romance books all based in those parts of the world where he has lived and worked.  As a result five are in sub-Saharan Africa, eleven are in South or East Asia, and only seven based in the UK or Europe.

Adam has been married four times, his first wife died, the second divorced him, the third marriage was annulled as that wife had forgotten to get divorced, and the fourth wife is fit and well.  They have between them seven children and four grandchildren.  As a result Adam thinks he knows a bit about life and loving.

Adam has lived and worked in Vietnam since 1997, where he lives in a provincial city with his wife, and has constant stream of visitors from the families of their seven adult children.

https://www.amazon.com/author/adammannauthor.com

https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/adammannauthor.com

@adammannauthor

www.adammannauthor.com

Published by Phaze Books

Everything copyright Adam Mann.

DRESS UP/DRESS DOWN WITH MARCIA JAMES

It's my pleasure to welcome Marcia James to the Living After Midnight Blog, to tell us about the meaningful attire worn in her novella, "Nothing But a Hound Dog."

ADOPT, DON'T SHOP: My Characters Proudly Wear Their Convictions

Cindi Landon, the heroine of my novella, "Nothing But a Hound Dog," is the director of the animal shelter in Jenkins, a small North Carolina town. As a hands-on, pro-animal advocate, she works alongside her staff. That means dressing in jeans and shelter t-shirts. One day, she might be working with dogs rescued from a hoarding situation. The next day, she might be meeting with families looking to find the perfect pet. There's nothing she likes more than to rescue and then place a homeless pet in its forever home.

After a night of raucous partying following a rodeo and concert in Jenkins, country music bad boy (and the hero of my novella), Ryan "Rowdy"Gates, is sentenced to community service at the shelter. Like the rest of the staff and volunteers, he wears jeans and shelter t-shirts while he helps out—whether it's cleaning dog runs or bottle-feeding an abandoned Basset Hound puppy he names Buddy. The shelter t-shirts sport different pro-adoption slogans, which start out as abstract concepts to Ryan, then become his conviction after he witnesses pets living on the streets or being surrendered to the shelter.

While researching my novella (which is the third in my "Klein's K-9s Service Dog" series and currently featured in the Love Notes ebook box set), I found quite a few wonderful, pro-adoption slogans, including, "Rescue: It's Not Just a Verb. It's a Promise."; "Paws to Love a Rescue Pet."; and "The Best Things in Life are Rescued." Being pro-adoption myself, I was happy to include many of the slogans in my novella. In fact, I have rescue dogs, cats, and the occasional pot-bellied pig in all of my books. These fictional pets add so much to the plot and reveal in my two-legged characters a love for animals that makes readers root for them to find their happily ever after.

Of course, "Nothing But a Hound Dog" has a happy ending, with Cindi offering Ryan something he's never had—a home, a family, and unconditional love. And, of course, they adopt Buddy the Basset Hound.

"Nothing But a Hound Dog" Excerpt:

When the puppy was sleeping soundly, Shauna, the shelter's volunteer supervisor, stood to go. "Why don't you stay here and hold him, so he'll know he's not alone. The best thing for this little boy is food and sleep. And while you're sitting here, think of a name for him." Shauna left, heading down the hall toward the dog runs.

Ryan looked at the puppy. Somehow the usual dog names—Spot, Rover, and the like—didn't seem right. So he gently rocked the puppy while he considered other names. He began to hum, something he often did when working out a problem. Then he started softly singing the song Elvis had made famous, "Hound Dog."

The puppy had been twitching, as though having a bad dream, but he settled down when he heard the song. Obviously, he had good taste in music. Ryan smiled. He could name the puppy Elvis, but it didn't seem to fit.

Ryan segued into Buddy Holly's "Everyday," a personal favorite. The little guy's mouth opened in a doggie grin. Maybe he should name him after the singer?

He stopped singing and said, "Buddy."

The puppy's ears twitched. Each time he said the name, he got the same reaction. So it was settled. Ryan christened him Buddy the Basset Hound.

Cindi stood in the clinic doorway, watching Ryan sing softly to the poor little thing. It was so poignant that her heart swelled and tears pricked her eyes. The tough kid from high school had grown into an admirable man who could gently rock a puppy and—according to what Shauna had told her—befriend and feed Andy, a troubled teenager who volunteered at the shelter.

God help her, she might be falling in love with Ryan.

She doubted he would appreciate her getting misty-eyed over him, so she simply listened until she got her emotions under control. He was singing the Buddy Holly song, "Words of Love." Cindi was a sucker for 1950s' pop music, so she joined in.

Startled by her voice, Ryan stopped and blushed, actually blushed. "Uh, the puppy settles down when I sing to him."

"He must be a fan of oldies, like me." She sat next to Ryan and gazed at the puppy. "He looks better already. Did he eat yet?"

"I bottle-fed him with Shauna's help. And I named him Buddy."

Buddy. It was perfect for the little pup. Suddenly, she remembered why she was there and stood again. "Speaking of eating, I came to get you. Your massive order from the Asian fusion place on Main has arrived. If you want any before the shelter hordes scarf it down, you better come with me."

Holding the puppy in a towel, Ryan got up from the chair without disturbing the Basset Hound's sleep. "I need to take Buddy with me. Shauna says he can hear my heart."

A warmth spread through her chest, and Cindi turned to the doorway before her face revealed what she was feeling. She was a sucker for a man who cared for animals.

Buy links for "Nothing But a Hound Dog" in the Love Notes box set:

Amazon US: http://amzn.to/1SFYWOA

Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/1PvSMdq Amazon CA: http://amzn.to/1ZWZ151 Amazon AU: http://bit.ly/1RHjuWX Itunes: http://apple.co/1nhJc7p B&N: http://bit.ly/1TdXXom Kobo: http://bit.ly/1Sa9pAr

Author Bio & Links:

Marcia James finaled in eleven Romance Writers of America contests before selling her first contemporary romance. Her releases include Sex & the Single Therapist (the first in a comic romantic mystery series) and the "Klein's K-9s Service Dogs" contemporary romance series. She is a national and international ebook bestseller, who writes hot, humorous romances featuring heroines you can root for, heroes to die for, and funny dogs.

In her eclectic career, Marcia has shot submarine training videos, organized celebrity-filled nonprofit events and had her wedding covered by People Magazine. After years of dealing with such sexy topics as how to safely install traffic lights, she is enjoying “researching” and plotting her novels' steamy love scenes with her husband and hero of many years.

Website: www.MarciaJames.net

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