Sometimes falling in love with the wrong girl just feels right... But Bryce's problem is that the woman he loves has been with Blake, his cousin, band mate, and best friend, for years. Then, Bryce gets a call that changes everything… After years of addiction and self abuse, Blake is gone. Now, Bryce is going back home to bury his cousin and hopefully reconnect with the band and crew he once considered family. Road Son used to be a group of four bikers who loved music. When Bryce picks up a bass, he starts playing as though he never put it down. The moment he spots Clara, all his old feelings come rushing back. And soon he's about to learn that Clara had a deep, dark secret of her own for years. She never wanted Blake... she always wanted Bryce. Can this forbidden love stand a chance... or will a band, a crew, and a town be ripped apart? Karolyn James is the author of several bestselling series, including Brothers of Rock which saw the first book – All Access – hitting both the NY Times and USA Today bestsellers list as part of a boxed set. Other series include Back Down Devil MC, written under the pen name London Casey, as a bestselling romantic suspense series. Writing under the pen name of Claire Charlins, Karolyn has seen success on the western romance and historical romance charts. Now she has her sights set on the groundbreaking rockstar romance novella series titled This Road. HOSTED BY:
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Title: Savaged Author: Nacole Stayton Genre: Contemporary Romance 18+ Publication Date: September 12, 2014 Cover Design: Sommer Stein Event Organized by: Literati Author Services, Inc. ~Synopsis~ The twist of a knife shredded Niko Kincaid’s world all around him, leaving him with two choices—accept his fate and die, or fight to live. He chose to fight, but the aftermath became a daily reminder, carved into his once flawless flesh. Despite years of self-imposed solitude, Niko hungers for companionship and suffers from an aching loneliness that the darkness cannot satisfy. He temporarily soothes his pain with women, hired women, whose only purpose is to service him. Easy. He didn’t expect a complication like Cambree Evans, but desperation corrupts even the most innocent. When emotions blend with lust, will Cambree's softness and ability to look past Niko's flaws be the one thing that releases him from his own personal hell? Will the monster in the dark prove that his savaged heart is worth saving? About the AuthorConnect with the AuthorGiveaway$50.00 Amazon Gift Card and 2 Signed Copies of Savaged
My life is split into two realities. Before Code. And after him. The first time I saw him, he walked into my father’s bank with the strut of a man who knows exactly what he wants. I saw in him a fearlessness that I desperately wanted, needed, craved as much as my next breath. Because I was watching him, I knew immediately when he pulled out a gun, aimed it at the ceiling, and fired three shots. And that is the way I mark my life—before that moment and after it. Before, when I tried to be agreeable, tried to be admired, tried to be pretty, tried to make sure everyone liked me. Tried to shake myself of shame. And after, when all of that fell away. When I just didn’t care anymore. Before Code. And after him. I didn’t know then what he would be to me. I didn’t know how he would transform the fabric of my existence. I didn’t know he would move me, reshape me, mold me into someone else, someone I wanted to be. Afterwards, he would become my lover, my savior, my hope, and my strength. But, before that, he was my hostage-taker. I moan against his mouth because Code is just so much. He’s so much of everything—so big, strong, hard, and demanding. His mouth is devouring mine, his lips moving urgently, his tongue forcing its way into my mouth. I open to him—not just because I know it’s the smartest strategy but because I want to. I want to feel even more of him. He pushes forward with his weight until I’m on my back on the box, which is kind of uncomfortable and unstable but it only sends the spiraling excitement clouding my mind even higher. I clutch at his broad shoulders and try to hang on. “Fuck,” he grits out, tearing his mouth away from mine. “What the hell…” He doesn’t finish the question, and I don’t know what he was really asking. Was he wondering why he was so turned on, when he was being chased on all sides with only a hostage for cover? Or was he wondering why I was turned on, when I should be trying to rip out his throat? His blue eyes are like fire, and they rake over my face and then lower to my breasts, which feel like they’re straining in my bra, my hard nipples clearly visible through thin fabric of my bra and top. “You are so fucking hot,” he mutters, his eyes moving back up to my face. He seems to be holding back for some reason—or maybe just taking his time. Either way, I don’t want him to have time to think things through or second-guess himself. I want him to let his cock take control so his mind gets completely turned off. I’ve seen it happen to guys over and over again. They’re really not that hard to manipulate if they’re suffering from a raging hard-on. So I arch my back enough to display my breasts better, my breath coming out in fast, little pants. I tell myself it’s part of the strategy, but it’s really not. My whole body is flaming, flushed, embarrassingly aroused. I’ve never felt this way before in my life. Not once. “What are you…what are you doing?” I asked, making my voice throaty and just a little helpless. It’s not hard to fake. At all. I really am a fucking moron. She’s quiet. Almost too quiet. Now that I’ve completely screwed myself, I need to come up with a way of keeping her here. Keeping her safe. I know that she’s probably thinking the rent-a-cop is going to be her savior, but she’s wrong. If she leaves here before Deke and the crew are caught, she could be in danger. And I probably will be dead. Quietly, I move around. I know this place like the back of my hand, and I know exactly what it is that I’m looking for and where to find it. Moving to the far corner, I find that doorway that we were heading toward earlier. There’s a shelving unit there. I feel around for a minute and find the three things I’m going to need. She’s going to hate me, and I really can’t blame her. But considering I’ve kidnapped her and fucked her, what’s one more crime to add to the list. I walk back over and put my hand on her shoulder, and she lets out a little scream. My hand immediately goes over her mouth. “I told you to be fucking quiet,” I hiss in her ear. “Well you scared me. I never heard you move!” The words are out of her mouth as soon as I remove my hand. “What?” I don’t know if it’s fear or defiance or what, but her snappish tone is a far cry from the way she sounded a few minutes ago. “When I go to get our food, I have to go alone.” “Okay.” I laugh bitterly. “There is no fucking way that I’m leaving you down here unattended. Don’t think that I’m not aware that you’ve been sitting here trying to figure out how to make a run for it as soon as I go upstairs.” “I…I wasn’t. I mean, I wouldn’t know where to go.” “Liar.” And before she can utter another word, I have the duct tape ripping and over her mouth. She goes to stand up but I shove her back down on the box. “We can do this one of two ways, Princess. I can keep you tied up and that tape over your mouth so that you can’t get away…” Her head shakes furiously from side to side, and I’m close enough that she’s shoving against me in an attempt to get the tape off her mouth. “Or we have option number two.” I put my hand by the tape. “I can pull this off right now, but then you’re going to have to strip.” She instantly grows still. “Those are your options. Bound and gagged or naked. Either one, it makes no difference to me. But I’m hungry and believe it or not, keeping you down here is keeping you safe. You may think that running is going to save you, but it won’t. Deke won’t rest until he finds us both. Think about it.” She sags in front of me, her head hitting my shoulders. Personally, if I could have had her bound and gagged and naked, I’d be pretty fucking happy. But now is not the time for that. N.S. Moore has been writing for years, and she loves romance of all varieties—from sweet to very dark. Her first book, Hostage, is a sexy New Adult contemporary romance about two people who find each other in very unlikely circumstances but discover they’re exactly what the other needs. When she’s not writing, N.S. Moore likes to read, shop, play tennis, and spend time with her family and her dog. She’s currently working on her next book. She would love to hear from readers. If you’d like to get in touch with her, you can follow her on Facebook or email her at [email protected]. HOSTED BY: Coming: October 15, 2014 She's the high school softball star. He's the fraternity chaplain. He's the good guy. She's the wild child. Eliza Nichols has a secret. After one night, one mistake, she throws away her softball career, walking away from everything she loves. Broken and damaged, the last thing she needs is someone making her question everything she's done. No one has ever made her want to be so good. Declan White is the stereotypical nice guy. When his fraternity brother betrays him with the girl of his dreams, he struggles to be the man he is without losing himself. Eliza might just be what he needs. No one has ever made him want to be so bad. When these two get together, their lives collide in a battle of wills. One moment can change the rest of your life. You can accept it... or you can hope for something more. Declan's POV Liza's POV Sydney Lane lives in Nashville, TN with her husband and children. Growing up in Smalltown, USA, Sydney dreamed of being a writer. After spending an outrageous amount of money to go to college, Sydney finally decided to follow her heart. Drug dealer and mommy by day, her alter ego is an author by night. Sydney is very active in charity work for anti-bullying and depression awareness groups. HOSTED BY: *This novel contains strong sexual content, mature language, and mild violence. This is not one of your mama’s fairytales.* Who’s afraid of the Big Bad Wolf? Samantha Wentworth has one mission in life: to get as far away as she possibly can from her troubled past. When she finds herself on the Louisiana bayou, she runs straight into the arms of a very sexy Big Bad Wolf that she just can’t seem to resist. Will Samantha continue on her journey, or does the full moon have other plans in store for her? I begin biting tenderly down her neck in a way that leaves only tiny little marks but enough to make her groan with pleasure. I use my strength to lift her upwards as I move my mouth down her body. She tugs at my hair as I clamp my teeth down on one of her nipples. She releases another moan, and her breathing becomes choppy as I work my way down her core, kissing, biting, licking, and unable to control myself. I finally find myself in a squat position. I quickly adjust Red’s legs over my shoulders, and I feel her shake. Everything in me wants to have her, every single piece of her right this minute. I need her. Not to just satisfy the raw animal craving that has built up inside me, but because I need every piece of the one thing that I ever wanted and needed so badly. I slow my kisses past her belly button and move to her inner thighs. I look up at her and her eyes catch my gaze. She’s breathing heavily, her legs begin to tremble more as I steady her against the wall. I drop to my knees to maintain my own balance. When my mouth finally latches to her, letting my tongue do the work for me, she releases a noise filled with such intense pleasure that there’s no going back. I need her even more now. Trista Jaszczak (jazz-ick) is the bestselling author of Little Red (Believe book I) and Loverboy. She is a devoted Air Force spouse and mother to two mischievous and rambunctious little girls. She is originally from Hamilton, Ohio but calls home wherever the Air Force sends her. She currently resides in Anchorage, Alaska where she finds endless inspiration in the pure Alaskan wilderness. When she isn’t writing, she spends her time with her family in the vast Alaskan outdoors, plucking away at her old guitar or working on self-improvement in the gym. She loves the outdoors, the moon, old movies and music. HOSTED BY: Devious. Dangerous. Demonic. Damien. People were either slavishly devoted to Eric Damien or they jealously hated him. Sometimes even both. Eric Damien hunted and fed off shyness and innocence. Ali Spencer was a sitting duck. He would learn all of her secrets while he had her locked in his rooms and at his mercy. Appeasement of all of his desires was his own personal manifest destinyâhe honestly believed that was true. CHAPTER ONE ~Welcome to Hell~ The two women, one blond and one brunette, stood in the gallery of the Colorado University Art Museum gaping at the depictions of hell in front of them. âDamn, this triptych is scary. Iâm going to have wicked nightmares,â the pretty blond woman named Shea exclaimed as she stared at the Hieronymus Bosch painting. Standing right beside her, Ali shuddered as an icy chill tore straight up her spine. âNightmares maybe, but, oh my God, Shea, these are unspeakably beautiful, too. I never thought Iâd be able to see them up close and personal.â Shea shook her head at Aliâs assessment of the paintings and looked around. Noticing an elderly man with a sourpuss face give her a dirty look, she dropped the volume of her voice to a whisper. âItâs amazing that the curator was able to round up so many of them in one roomâtheyâre normally all over the world, right?â Ali nodded. âYeah, I know. The Prado in Spain loaned Boschâs âGarden of Earthly Delightsâ although I think Iâd rather have an excuse to go to Madrid, frankly,â Ali whispered back, unable to tear her eyes from the work. Her grandparents had a place in Madrid and sheâd been aching to go there for a long time. âNow youâre talking! Hey, we should plan a trip this summer together.â Ali smiled. âI told you art can be fun.â Grimacing, Shea retorted, âYeah, especially when itâs being taught by a sizzling hot bloke like Blake.â Ali hiked an eyebrow. âI like that alliteration. See, you can be trained.â Holding up a perfectly manicured finger in protest, Shea said in a loud whisper, âIâll admit that the liberal arts holds its fair share of hotties, but I happen to like the corporate kind. Nothing says man-candy like a well-cut suit filled out perfectly⦠and enormous power is the most potent aphrodisiac. But Ali was not paying attention to Shea prattling on and on because she was riveted to the painting, a study of Dante and Virgil in Bouguereauâs hell, bearing witness to the damned stealing each otherâs identities through vicious biting. âYouâre not even listening to me, are you? Ali!â âSorry, what?â But now something had distracted Shea and she was craning her head to scan the large gallery. âIs the professor here? I see a commotion by the entrance.â Ali again didnât respond. Shea elbowed her. âDo you think he actually believes heâs related to the Blake who created the Divine Comedy illustrations?â Ali giggled at the idea. âI can almost hear the Aeolian harp accompanying him as he strolls about the gallery.â Shea looped her arm through her friendâs, as Ali continued to gaze at the painting. âAre we meeting Sal for dinner tonight?â âNot sure. He said to call him when we were done here. He had a big exam today in his civil and environmental engineering class that he was totally angsting over. Iâm sure heâll ace itâhe always does. The man is annoyingly brilliant.â âIs that why heâs in love with you, Ali?â Shea hip-bumped her friend. The dark-haired young woman shook her head dismissively. Ali tugged on Sheaâs blond hair affectionately, as they moved on to the next painting. Shea was working toward her MBA while Ali was about to attain her prized MFA, so they were never in the same class but Shea had an elective to burn and took the art history class with Ali for fun. They both wanted in on Professor Blakeâs Hell in Art seminar, if only to gape slack-jawed at the divine beauty of the professor. The man was incredibly handsome but also easily the most arrogant snob on campus: erudite, even brilliant, true, but sorely lacking in personal charm. In truth, though, Ali would have taken the course if anyone decent were teaching it. The topic fascinated her, stretching across centuries from the Renaissance to the nineteenth century, focusing on depictionsâthe most terrifying onesâof hell and the demons who inhabit it. This seminar was actually predicated on this specific exhibit at the museum so students would be able to view all the works in question in a single room, a coup in and of itself amazing. In one gallery stood the masterpieces of Blake, Bosch, Bouguereau, Grunewald, and Goya. Shea turned and confided in a theatrical, singsong voice, âSpeaking of crushing on you, look what the cat just dragged in. He is so ogling you, Ali.â Ali rolled her eyes. Shea always believed that all the men were panting after her. Ridiculous, especially since Shea herself resembled a beauty queen on steroids, with a killer body and long corn-silk hair hanging in soft waves down her back. âIncoming,â Shea whispered, âdonât look now but heâs at two oâclock and approaching. Geoffrey Blake strode directly toward the two young women as Aliâs heartbeat took flight when she saw him. âLadies,â he nodded. Keen eyes traveled over both girls. Blakeâs eyes were so light and eerie they defied description, even one as basic as color. Were they blue? Green? Gray? The answer to all three questions was yes. Depending on how the light hit them, they appeared to change hue. One female student, in a sorry attempt to flirt with the man, had the temerity to ask him in front of the other students exactly what color his eyes were. Blakeâs expression turned sardonic, his lip curling in sneering contempt, and he proceeded to rip her a new one. âIf youâre so blind as to be incapable of discerning the difference between green and blue, what are you doing in a graduate art seminar where color is a most important consideration when assessing and appreciating the art in question. Might I suggest you take up accounting?â With that, he turned on his heel, gathered up his class notes, and stalked out of the classroom, leaving the poor girl standing there, mouth hanging open, and her cheeks ruddy with humiliation. Once she collected herself enough to move, she marched directly to the registrarâs office and promptly dropped the class. Now he eyed Shea and Ali, his attention fixated on the students instead of the art with which they were engaged. âWhat is your opinion thus far, ladies?â Ali blushed: when he looked directly at someone, the haughty professor seemed to focus entirely on that person to the exclusion of all else and now that intensity was trained on her. Clearing her throat, she answered his question. âDefinitely planning on having some nightmares tonight.â âYes,â he agreed, his gaze locked on the slim brunette student. Lately heâd been having a very difficult time looking at anyone or anything else when Ali Spencer was in his lecture hall. The girl was simply exquisite, easily competing with all the masterpieces dedicated to feminine beauty. Her friend wasnât half bad either, but Blake gravitated to Ali as if by siren call. He sighed when he realized that nothing could come of his infatuation, as it would violate the collegeâs fraternization policy. Moreâs the pity, he thought, as he wondered if the near-flawless peaches and cream skin on her face was repeated all over her body, and other much dirtier contemplations. It was time to leave. The professorâs arm gestured across the gallery. âI hope all my students realize how exceptional is this exhibit and the level of difficulty the curator faced in procuring all of the works to bring it to the adoring public.â Ali nodded, a small smile gracing her lips. âYes, Shea and I were just speaking to that accomplishment a few minutes ago.â Shea was staring at the professor. âAll this evil in art. And what does evil truly look like anyway? Is it Goyaâs interpretation or Boschâs?â asked Shea. âVery good question,â Blake said. âWhat do you think the devil looks like?â He directed his question at Ali. She chuckled. âI think the devil comes in many forms. Then there are all the impostors.â Blake looked at her, eyes discerning. âYes, beware the many impostors of the dark prince. They come at you from every direction. Weâll actually be referencing that very idea in our next lecture. Enjoy the exhibit, ladies.â Shea turned to look at Ali, raising her eyebrows and they both giggled. âDo you think he has a tiny dick?â she asked in a conspiratorial whisper. Ali giggled again but then groaned. âThanks for putting that image into my head,â she snapped at Shea but her friend only grinned in delight. Lulu Astor is a New York City girl, born and bred. She met her husband at a doggie play group in Tribeca in the â90s and together they embarked on adventures, moving first to Chicago, where their first son was born, then on to Santa Fe, New Mexico, followed by Los Angeles, Cali. Eventually they headed back to NYC where their second son made his debut shortly thereafter. Beginning her writing career with nonfiction, she began writing short fiction (her first love) in grad school, moving on to longer works shortly thereafter. She wrote the Complements series in 2010, and it was published on KDP in 2013. Three and a Half Weeks was initially conceived as a short story but evolved into a full-length (very full) novel as time went on. Immersing herself in fiction (whether reading or writing) every minute possible, she also teaches writing and literature as an adjunct professor in the New York-Connecticut area where she currently resides. Her books are available on Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Smashwords, and Goodreads. You can follow her on Facebook, Goodreads, and Twitter (reluctantly). HOSTED BY: From the moment Peyton Emerson discovered she was pregnant at 18, although scared, she couldn't wait to share the exciting news with the baby's father and her childhood sweetheart, Keller James-who was serving at war in Afghanistan. Then a letter came from Keller shattering Peyton's world, saying he wanted nothing more to do with her or her unborn child. Or so she thought.... Fast forward five years, and Peyton, now 23, is living in New York City with her daughter Ivy, and her crazy British best friend Lottie Carter, working part time as a stripper to provide for them. As Peyton and Keller are reunited, they discover the truths and the lies that left them both heartbroken. But... Will she take him back? Can she forgive him for everything? Will a chance meeting with the man that left her heartbroken and pregnant, take her back to the dark place he left her in? Or will they find their love again? Excerpt 1: I grabbed the pole and slowly spun on it using one leg, before coming off it again and teasingly started pulling my dress up inch by inch showing them my lace-clad ass before pulling it back down and covering it, hearing them boo. You can’t get naked too quickly, it’s a 4 minute song and I couldn’t stand there naked for that long, fuck that. Excerpt 2: Keller groaned into my mouth and I felt one of his arms wrap around my back and the other slowly move up the side of my ribs skimming my breast and up to the back of my neck, where he grasped onto the roots of my hair, twining his hand in and pulling my head back. He deepened the kiss, pulling his lip from in-between mine and gently bit mine. Amy Muscat is a twenty-two year old London girl, a bookaholic, and when she’s not writing or reading, you can find her pulling a pint behind the bar where she works, where she drives all her customers mad talking about people that don't exist. HOSTED BY: One horrible night changed everything. And now, Paige can’t stop the nightmares. No one can... Except him. When Paige Tomlin unexpectedly runs into Eli Stone one day, memories of that awful night don’t come crashing down on her like she thought they would. Instead, memories from when they were young and inseparable surround her. The boy she rode the bus to school with every day. The boy who picked her up and drove her around the first day he got his license. The boy who told her his deepest secrets. The boy who left her without saying goodbye… The man who came back for her. Thrown into a world of fear and confusion, they lean on each other for support and survival. But is the one thing that brought them back together the very thing that will rip them apart forever? “Well, I’m a bit fucked up in the head.” He laughs. He’s actually laughing at me! It wasn’t a joke. I don’t know whether to be pissed off or laugh with him, so I just sit here and wait for him to finish. “I’m sorry, Paige,” he says, wiping away a tear. “Seriously? You look anything but sorry.” “It’s just that you’re the most normal person I’ve ever met, and yet you genuinely believe you’re fucked up.” “I am. And you of all people should understand why. A lot has changed in the last few months, Eli.” “No, I get that, but you’re still the same. Exactly the same. Just a little more … grown up.” His eyes graze over my body. “You don’t even know me anymore.” “I know enough.” He sinks back into the cushion. “By the way, I’ve always wanted to say thank you.” “For what?” “For saving my life.” Bria Starr grew up in a small town in Minnesota and continues to live there with her husband and two kids. She’s a stay at home mom who is very close with her family, loves junk food, and is always cold. Her favorite things include reading books, writing, listening to music, and watching too many movies. HOSTED BY: "I've flown halfway across the globe to watch the love of my life marry the love of hers." He never intended on returning home... Never second-guessed the life he'd chosen... Never planned on meeting someone that would make him want more... But everything can change As the Dawn Breaks. The mischievous glimmer in his eyes speaks volumes, and I—never being one to back down from a challenge—immediately slide the straps of my dress off my shoulders, studying his face as the fabric falls to the ground. Unsure of what to expect with him, since pretty much everything he’s said and done thus far contradicts what I consider to be the norm for guys, I wait for him to say something. However, instead of using words, he speaks with actions. Quirking his brow up as to ask for permission, I nod in response, knowing exactly what he wants to do. He closes the gap between us and lifts his large hands up, splaying them across my belly. Lightly, his thumbs stroke back and forth, caressing the stretched skin, our gazes locked on where our bodies meet. His hands leave my body, accompanied by a scowl. “You are beautiful and I’m not old.” Then, he swiftly pulls his t-shirt over his head and tosses it on top of the blanket. I laugh and roll my eyes, trying desperately not to gawk at his very toned and very tan torso, but as usual, I fail epically. The tattoo of a lion’s profile inked across his left pec catches my attention instantly, and without his permission, I reach up and trace it with my fingertip, closely studying the intricate design. Entwined into the tendrils of the mane, a quote is hidden: Courage without conscious is a wild beast. “Now that is fucking beautiful,” I murmur softly. “Tell me what it means.” Bringing his forefinger up under my chin, he tilts my head so I’m staring into his smiling eyes. “Maybe later, and don’t curse around the baby, young lady.” Erin Noelle is a Texas native, where she lives with her husband and two young daughters. While earning her degree in History at the University of Houston, she rediscovered her love for reading that was first instilled by her grandmother when she was a young child. A lover of happily-ever-afters, both historical and current, Erin is an avid reader of all romance novels. In 2013, she published the Book Boyfriend Series, which included books Metamorphosis, Ambrosia, Euphoria, and Timeless, and recently published When the Sun Goes Down, a contemporary romance novel. Her books have been a part of the USA Today Bestselling list and the Amazon and Barnes & Noble overall Top 100. HOSTED BY: Coming: September 30, 2014 Elizabeth has finally escaped from Asmodeus. Safely tucked away in a small seaside village in Italy, she finds peace and maybe a little bit of heat with Jared. Her seeming savior, he not only got her somewhere safe, but the connection, heat, and desire he inspires in her is undeniable. But one little slip up. And the devil finds his diamond again. From a secluded hideaway, locked in the devil’s arms, to the busy streets of Paris, France. The devil is no longer playing in her dreams, but with her very real, hot-blooded desires. Elizabeth quickly comes to realize that she may never escape the beast, and that her only option could be to give in, or die trying to save her soul… and heart. *This book contains controversial subject matter that may be objectionable to some readers.* Crave (Now Available) Lust (September 2014) Seduce (TBA) Owned (TBA) Bonnie Bliss is the brain child of two authors. Bonnie is husband and wife duo that has come together to weave stories of passion, action, betrayal, and ultimate surrender. They have discovered that mixing genres in their thing. Their tastes go dark, and they love to twisted up sweet stories and make them a bit more tense and sexy. Bonnie writes in multiple genres with plans to dabble into more areas of fiction. One is a Southern California native, the other was born and raised in Yorkshire, England. The husband spends his time giving the wife alpha males with bite. He is a man that needs to see his world in print. He has a panty melting accent, loves listening to music, watching Game of Thrones, and obsessing over Heisenberg. The wife spends her time writing strong women that evolve into their power, they don’t just come out guns blazing. She claims the song California Girls, by Katy Perry is totally accurate. She’s done everything from waitressing, customer service phone rep., Corporate Real Estate, and spent a pretty impression part of her life working for the Disney Corporation—before finding her way into the publishing world with her husband. HOSTED BY: |
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