In His Corner


Why I Chose a Boxer as a Romantic Hero

By Vina Arno

The commercial success of the recent fight between Floyd Mayweather and Manny Pacquiao attests to the enduring popularity of boxing. The welterweight bout, which Mayweather won, generated $400 million in pay-per-view sales and more than $72 million in live-gate ticket sales. It broke all records of revenues for a boxing match.

My debut romance book, In His Corner, happens to be about an Olympic gold-medalist boxer who gets knocked out at first sight by the ER doctor who treats his cut. I’ve been asked more than once whether Manny Pacquiao has anything to do with the subject of my book. Yes and no.

Boxing Inspiration

Pacquiao, a champion in eight different weight divisions and one of the world’s best fighters today, is Filipino. I’m Filipino-American, so naturally, people wonder if Pacquiao is the reason I chose a boxing hero.

In my book, Tommy “the Juggernaut” Raines is three months away from turning pro when he falls hard for the beautiful Dr. Siena Carr. The immediate inspiration for the Juggernaut is not Pacquiao, but the British actor, Tom Hardy, whose extraordinary performance as a cage fighter in “Warrior” blew me away. Hardy was so convincing as a mixed martial arts fighter in the 2011 movie that former heavy weight champ David Haye challenged Hardy to get in the ring with him.

The character’s intensity and physical prowess inspired the romantic hero in my book, but I made him an Olympic boxer instead. I was a child when “Thrilla in Manila”—the famous boxing match between Muhammad Ali and Joe Frazier—was held with great fanfare in the Philippines. The event left a tremendous impression on me, especially the larger-than-life Ali.

Then there’s my compatriot, Pacquiao, whose career I’ve been following. Indeed I was more familiar with boxing than mixed martial arts, thanks to the Pac-Man.  So, why did I choose a boxing hero? It was all of the above. That’s how inspiration works sometimes.

In His Corner, Book Excerpt

Dr. Siena Carr went straight to the sink, her back to the patient. She dropped the clipboard on the counter and washed her hands. When she turned around, she gasped. “What are you doing?”

The Juggernaut was undressing. Before she could say another word, he was naked. A glorious sight that sent her heart racing and her face burning. Did he know that he looked like a sculpture by Michelangelo? Except for the tattoo on his right shoulder, this man was David incarnate.

She looked away abruptly, grabbing the clipboard. She didn’t even know his name! She looked at his paperwork. Tommy Raines. “Mr. Raines, please put on your clothes.”

She continued scanning his form. Occupation: boxer. Age: twenty-two. Weight: 160 pounds. Height: six feet. Blood type: O positive. No pre-existing health conditions. His temperature and blood pressure were normal. Reason for ER visit: a cut sustained from sparring.

She faced him. Thank God, he was clothed again.

“Sorry about that,” he said. “I thought you’re supposed to check me out.”

Did he just saycheck him out? “Mr. Raines, this is an ER, not a bar. I don’t check out patients. Do you mean to say check up?”

He smiled. “Yeah, check up.”

“I’m going to take care of your cut, but I’m not doing a checkup. If you need one, you should go to your primary care doctor.”

“I don’t like doctors. I avoid hospitals and clinics as much as possible, but my cut kept bleeding even after I showered. So here I am.”

Buy Links

In His Corner by Vina Arno, published by Lyrical Press/Kensington Publishing (April 2015), is available at:

Barnes & Noble

Kobo Books

Kensington Books






About Vina ArnoCindyFazziakaVinaArno-small

Vina Arno is a pen name used by Cindy Fazzi, a Philippine-born American writer who has worked as a journalist in the Philippines, Taiwan, and the United States. Her short stories have been published in the Snake Nation Review, Copperfield Review, and SN Review.

Read this Forbes article about Vina Arno

Learn more about the author:

Web site:








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Raven McAllan

Raven McAllan has been a guest here before. Now she has another book out and I thought it would be nice for everyone to get a look at it.

Taken Identity



Thank you for offering to host me on your blog today. Even though this is all about someone stealing your identity I promise I won’t steal yours. (I may use your name in a book though.)


When the devastatingly handsome Gray turns up on her doorstep looking for his wife, and calling said wife by Jules name, Jules wondered briefly if she’d landed in an alternative universe. She knows she’s not his wife, and so does he. But apparently someone with her name and history is.

Is it a case of coincidence or did his missing wife ‘borrow’ Jules’ life?

Even though the dominant Gray sends her knickers aflame with just one look, with a missing wife in the equation, Jules knows there’s no chance of finding out what else he could achieve.

There’s only one thing to do—unravel the mystery and try and keep their hands off each other in the meantime. The first may well prove far easier than the latter.

A wee tease…

“Well, Mr Reynard.” She spoke in a brisk fashion, as she did her best to emulate his tone and pace and show none of the tension he invoked in her. Unfortunately—and no doubt he’d see it as a weakness—she had to squint slightly to bring him into focus. It wouldn’t be a pretty look. She’d taken enough selfies sans glasses or contacts to know that. She peered at him closely to bring him into focus. “So, how may I help you?”

Even without twenty-twenty vision, Jules was now close enough to see and decide the glance he gave her was along the lines of one you might give a not very bright child. She gritted her teeth, determined to show nothing of how she felt. Which was like a particularly unpleasant bug under a microscope.

“Well?” she prompted him in as pleasant a voice as she could manage. When she’d gone to answer the door, Jules hadn’t had time to put her shoes on and the old stone floor of the cottage’s hallway wasn’t warm. It would have been oh so easy to shiver, except she thought it would project a wrong image. She was not scared. Allegedly.

“I wish to speak to Julia Frayne.”

Sheesh, is he a robot or something? Stuck on one sentence? “You are speaking to Julia Frayne. Oh, for fucks sake, hold on a sec.” She remembered her old glasses, the ones she wore for gardening, were in her jacket pocket and if she stretched out, she should be able to reach them.

She managed and shoved them on her nose. All her suppositions were correct. A tall, dark, dangerous sex on legs specimen of manhood was filling her doorway. A very pissed off one.

The expression on his face would have frozen molten lava. Even more now, she wished she was wearing fuzzy slippers and a warm jumper. The look as well as the nip in the air didn’t make her feel comfortable in her thin, strappy and long, floaty skirt. Julia risked a brief glance downward and groaned inwardly. Just as she thought, her nipples had responded to the chilly atmosphere and pushed at the silky material covering them. Even though she was getting mighty sick of the guy, one of Miss McMurty’s expressions floated into her brain and she gave a stifled laugh. Sticking out like hat pegs, lovey. She crossed her arms over her chest and ignored the fact she was annoyed that her action looked defensive.

“You think something I’ve said is funny?” he asked with a frown on his face. “I beg to differ. This is no laughing matter. Impersonating someone—or purporting not to know what I’m referring to—isn’t something to smirk about. You are not Julia Frayne. And neither are you pregnant.”

Jules knew her jaw dropped, and she stood and stared at him, mouth open. At last, she found her voice.

“Half correct,” she said, pleased her tone was almost as frosty as his. “I can assure you, I am most certainly the former, and have been for close to thirty years. Equally, I am certain I am not the latter.”

For goodness sake, she thought in disgust, I sound like his clone with a stick up my ass. Very proper!

“Prove it,” he said.

The challenging tone made the hairs on the back of her neck stand upright, and Jules lost her temper. It was a rare occurrence, but when it happened, friends and relatives knew to duck. As her parents had often said, she lived up to the red-haired virago scenario when necessary.

“Certainly. I’ll fetch my passport.” She slammed the door shut, obviously taking him by surprise, as he made no move to stop her. Damn it, I wish I’d trapped his balls in there. Or at least his toes. Arrogant ass.

The doorbell rang almost immediately, seemingly invested with his impatience. Jules grinned to herself. She’d bet his finger was jammed on the buzzer, and it would stay there until she reopened the door. Let it, she had more things to worry about—like who the hell was he looking for? The bell began to ring in short staccato buzzes. Well, Mr Whoever-you-are Reynard, you canbloody well wait, Buzz Colonel Bogey and whistle, and if you hurt your finger, well, tough. I’m putting my lenses in before I face you again. In addition, I’ll maybe just wave my passport through the window.

It only took a few minutes for her to put in contact lenses, swipe the mascara brush over her pale eyelashes—she really must remember to book an appointment to get them re-dyed—retrieve her passport from a drawer and return to the front door. Nevertheless, in the short time she was away, the noise of the doorbell continued non-stop. At this rate, the battery will stop before he does, she mused, as she stopped in front of the mirror and checked just what her uninvited caller might see when he looked at her.

Typically Celt, she thought ruefully as she eyed her red corkscrew curls, green eyes, pale skin that never tanned properly and the myriad of freckles sprinkled over her nose. Never was she going to be a page three girl—Thank goodness. But, as her mother used to say, “What you’ve got is all yours!” Her strappy vest was now covered with a long, fluffy jumper, and her feet had striped socks on. Not haute couture but warm and serviceable.

Jules checked that her dad’s old, sturdy golf umbrella was tucked away in its usual place in the hallway—for poking her visitor, if need be—then slipped the chain on before she opened the door as far as the security measure allowed. A foot immediately inserted itself into the gap.

“Congratulations,” Jules said sarcastically. “A bit slow last time, weren’t you? But be warned, Mr Reynard, that’s as far as you’ll get. An expert fixed this chain. Now, if you look to the window on your right, I’ll show you my passport.”

Jules could almost hear his teeth grinding. Too bad. She had no intention of handing her passport to a stranger. For any reason. She moved to the side of the door where a small window brought a little more natural light into her otherwise darkish hallway and pressed the photograph page of her passport to the glass. Her—what? Intruder? Unwanted visitor? —moved slightly, without taking his foot from the door opening and leaned toward the glass. After long seconds, he stood back with a bewildered expression. He blinked, and tiny lines radiated out from the corners of his eyes. Then he shook his head.

“Ah…” he stopped speaking and shrugged.

“Satisfied?” Try as she might, Jules couldn’t keep the satisfied note out of her voice. “I, Mr Reynard, am I! Julia Frances Frayne. Spinster of this parish. Do you need anything else?”

“Yes, actually. I want my wife. Julia Frayne.”


If that has interested you, here’s the buy links

Thanks for reading,

Love Raven x

Oh and just to tell you a bit about me…

Raven photo smaller pic May 15 copy

Well what can I say?

I’m growing old disgracefully and loving it.

Dh and I live on the edge of a Scottish forest, and rattle around in a house much too big for us.

Our kids have grown up and flown the nest, but roll back up when they want to take a deep breath and smell the daisies so to speak.

I write in my study, which overlooks the garden and the lane. I’m often seen procrastinating, by checking out the wild life, looking—only looking—at the ironing basket and assuring tourists that indeed, I’m not the bed and breakfast. That would mean cooking fried eggs without breaking the yolks, and disturbing the dust bunnies as they procreate under the beds. Not to be thought of.

Being able to do what I love, and knowing people get pleasure from my writing is fantastic. Long may it last.        (my page)             (author page)


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McKayla Schutt

McKayla Schutt’s new book, Imprinted: The Change, will be out May 27. Here’s a sneak peek!



Kindra has to decide if she is going to stay a human or change into a werewolf.
Judden is ready to help Kindra adjust to the pack no matter what her choice.


Become a werewolf or stay a human, Kindra kept thinking over and over again in the hot shower while the shampoo in her hair slowly dripped down her back. In the next hour, her and her twin would tell their mates they were ready to make the change to become werewolves. Her nerves grew stronger about being accepted into the pack. Her hands massaged her scalp under the hot water while she thought back to her last job. She winced, remembering her boss telling her to leave. The reason for getting fired was “It wasn’t a good fit,” and since she was an intern, her boss didn’t need a better reason. The job before that was close to the same end, making Kindra wince again. Every job she had taken in the last year had ended in disaster because she didn’t make friends quickly. Her mom told her all she had to do was be open to people, but that didn’t come easily to Kindra until Judden.
Buy Links:

McKayla’s Blog:

Find McKayla on Facebook and Twitter:

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Pippa Jay

Restless in Peaceville 3


Restless In Peaceville, returning to retailers soon. Same cute zombie story, brand new cover!


Welcome to Peaceville, population 2067 and rising…from the grave…

Luke Chester has had enough. He’s the school geek, the girls laugh at him, he’s lost his dead-end job at the pizza place, and in the midst of the world’s messiest divorce his parents don’t even know he exists. An overdose of his mom’s tranquilizers and a stomach full of whiskey should solve all his problems…

But they don’t. Instead, Luke finds himself booted out of the afterlife for not dying a natural death, with nowhere to go but back to his recently vacated corpse and reality. How the hell is he going to pass for one of the living without someone trying to blow his brains out for being one of the undead?

And it just gets worse. He’s got to fight his own desperate craving to consume the living, evade the weird supernatural hunter who’s having a field day with the new undeads rising, and there’s this creepy black shadow following him around. Add to that the distraction of female fellow undead Annabelle burning to avenge her own murder, and clearly there’s no rest for the wicked. Jeez, all he wanted to do was R.I.P.

Buy links:

Web page –!restless-in-peaceville/c19is

Add it to your Goodreads TBR here –

Sign up to my no-spam newsletter to get updated on the latest releases, giveaways and special offers. Exclusive snippets and stories coming soon!


After spending twelve years working as an Analytical Chemist in a Metals and Minerals laboratory, Pippa Jay is now a stay-at-home mum who writes scifi and the supernatural. Somewhere along the way a touch of romance crept into her work and refused to leave. In between torturing her plethora of characters, she spends the odd free moment playing guitar very badly, punishing herself with freestyle street dance, and studying the Dark Side of the Force. Although happily settled in the historical town of Colchester in the UK with her husband of 21 years and three little monsters, she continues to roam the rest of the Universe in her head.

Pippa Jay is a dedicated member of the Science Fiction Romance Brigade and Broad Universe, blogging at Spacefreighters Lounge, Adventures in Scifi, and Romancing the Genres. Her works include YA and adult stories crossing a multitude of subgenres from scifi to the paranormal, often with romance, and she’s one of eight authors included in a science fiction romance anthology—Tales from the SFR Brigade. She’s also a double SFR Galaxy Award winner, been a finalist in the Heart of Denver RWA Aspen Gold Contest (3rd place), the EPIC eBook awards, and the GCC RWA Silken Sands Star Awards (2nd place).

You can stalk her at her website, or at her blog, but without doubt her favorite place to hang around and chat is on Twitter as @pippajaygreen.


Blogs –

Adventures in Scifi –

Spacefreighters Lounge –

Romancing the Genres –

SFR Brigade –

Twitter –

Goodreads –

Facebook –!/pages/Pippa-Jay-Adventures-in-Scifi/114058821953752

Pinterest –

Google+ –

Wattpad –

Amazon page –

All Romance eBooks –

Newsletter –





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The Vampire’s Breakfast

The Vampire's Breakfast 267x400

When I started to write this, I knew it had to be short, sharp and have a sting, or a bite in the tail… and tale…

Has it? Only the reader can decide, but I do hope so. (Well, I achieved the short bit… bit not bite, if nothing else. This is a wee flirt.)

The vampire’s breakfast was well overdue. There was just one thing to discover. Who was the vampire and who was the victim?

When Dorissa and Rafe got together, sparks flew and sex was always on the menu. This time though it went deeper. And became a game of dominance and a race to win.

Dorissa knew her life depended on Rafe—he didn’t. Could she show him how?

Rafe wanted Dorissa in every manner possible, except perhaps in the only way she could live. Would he agree to her terms?

In this game of life, could there be two winners, or would they both lose?

As dawn approached one of them knew that once the sun rose, nothing would be the same again.

And here’s a wee excerpt:

~~~~~As ever at a fashionable ball, the ton were out in force, and the crush to enter the house, make their curtsey and bow to the hostess, and thence to the gardens, took nigh on an hour. With his usual skill, Rafe snagged two glasses of champagne from an attending footman and handed one to Dorissa.

“It’s going to be a long night. Drink up and we’ll go into the dining room via those windows over there.” He pointed to floor-to-ceiling doors that were open at one end of the building. “Mary Cotterell will have ordered the buffet to be ready early. Let’s grab a basket of food and go somewhere quiet.” Rafe put his hand to Dorissa’s forehead. “As I thought, you need peace, quiet”—he bent his head so only she could hear him—”and my cock in you. Do you really want to dance?”

Dorissa curtseyed and looked up at him. “There’s dancing and there is dancing. I prefer to do it alone with you, and our own way.” She raised her voice slightly. “Of course, my lord,” she said in amused tone. “You are, as ever, correct.”

“You, my dear, are a minx, and playing with fire.” He couldn’t help the way he smiled at her as he slid his hand over her silk-covered rear and pinched the soft skin hidden under the material.


“Not at all,” he said urbanely. “The ouch will follow later.”

In perfect harmony, they entered the dining room and picked up a picnic basket. It was as well it was a warm night because Rafe immediately guided her outside, away from the terrace where tables had been set up for people to enjoy their alfresco supper, and along a sconce-lit path through the rose garden.

“Where are we going?” Dorissa half ran to keep up with Rafe’s long-legged gait. She couldn’t help but admire the way he moved so swiftly that she’d never have known he was carrying a large and heavy wicker basket in one hand if she hadn’t actually seen him pick it up

“Away from the rabble.” He left the path once they were at a far enough distance not to be seen by anyone who might glance in their direction. “Where we can do the dance we both prefer.”

It was lucky he’d been a playmate to their heir of the house and knew every nook and cranny of the gardens. Michael, his crony of those innocent days, and still one of Rafe’s closest friends, had assured Rafe that the place he had in mind would be private and they wouldn’t be disturbed. Michael had somewhere else in mind for his own assignation.

“You can’t call the ton rabble,” Dorissa said with a giggle. “What would the tabbies say?”

“Raferton, you’re being irreverent once more.” Rafe spoke in a high-pitched falsetto. “Then they’ll rap my fingers with their fans and tell me it’s time I took a wife. Lord, I’m only thirty-six.”

“Plenty of time then. I, of course, at twenty-eight, am on the shelf and deemed to be past redemption. Which reminds me, I must buy some of those frothy lacy caps to wear, now I am accepted as no longer being on the marriage mart.”

and to check me out…

Well what can I say?

I’m growing old disgracefully and loving it.

Dh and I live on the edge of a Scottish forest, and rattle around in a house much too big for us.

Our kids have grown up and flown the nest, but roll back up when they want to take a deep breath and smell the daisies so to speak.

I write in my study, which overlooks the garden and the lane. I’m often seen procrastinating, by checking out the wild life, looking—only looking—at the ironing basket and assuring tourists that indeed, I’m not the bed and breakfast. That would mean cooking fried eggs without breaking the yolks, and disturbing the dust bunnies as they procreate under the beds. Not to be thought of.

Being able to do what I love, and knowing people get pleasure from my writing is fantastic. Long may it last.        (my page)             (author page)

Happy Reading,

Love R X

Posted in Interview | 1 Comment

Carolyn LaRoche

Undercover in Six Inch Stilettos-267x400


Even a cop’s wife has secrets… When young exotic dancers start disappearing, can Cyndi find the missing girls without exposing her own little secret?

Cyndi Mills has a great life. A handsome husband that desires her, a beautiful daughter, and friends she could trust with her life. It’s only logical that she secretly takes a job as an exotic dancer at one of Virginia Beach’s night clubs.

When dancers start disappearing, Cyndi is determined to get to the bottom of it. Unfortunately, solving the case means her overly protective husband has to know that she has been lying to him for months about where she goes every Friday night. Cyndi has no idea just how deep she will get by going undercover as a confidential informant. Will she risk her marriage to find justice?


Jason leaned against the counter, arms folded across his chest. She recognized that look immediately. He was doing the cop thing, analyzing her, and she could tell he knew something didn’t add up. His left eyebrow rose just a tad higher than the right as he studied her. “Why do you have glitter in your hair?”

Cyndi shook her hair and a shower of glitter rained down on her sweatshirt. Damn. Somehow she had missed a boat load of sparkle. Damn, that stuff got everywhere.

“Jody brought her daughter’s costume for a dance recital to work so I could help her fix a tear. It was all covered in sparkles. The damn stuff got on everything. Had to go back over the carpets with the sweeper twice and I’m still not sure we got it all.”

Jason continued to stare down at her from his full six feet of height. His stare was laser sharp, his presence imposing. It was no wonder he was so good at catching the bad guy. Hardened criminals squirmed under the intensity of that stare. Hopefully he couldn’t see through her despite the fact she felt as transparent as the shower curtain hanging in their bathroom.

“You think Harper is going to want to do that stuff?”

“Harper is four. It’s a little early to predict if she will be a dancer or a swimmer or…whatever.”

“Yeah, well, I just don’t want that glittery stuff all over the house. The guys won’t ever let me live it down, I show up to work all sparkly like that.” He shook his head.

Cyndi stepped closer to her husband and wrapped her arms around him. “I’m exhausted, honey. How about we go to bed?”

Jason hugged her close. “You gonna wear a little French maid’s outfit like you do when you clean those offices?”


“Can’t fault a guy for trying.” Jason’s grin was a sharp contrast to his earlier scrutiny. He pulled out the neckline of her top and peered down into it. “Come on. I know you gotta wear some kinda uniform!”

Thank God she had changed in to her old white bra from the discount store and left her bustier at work. Stepping back, Cyndi held her arms out and spun around slowly. “You’re looking at it, baby. Doesn’t my ratty old sweatshirt turn you on?”

“Not as much as a little maid’s outfit would. It’s nearly Halloween. Maybe I ought to pick one up for you to wear at work. You know, so you don’t mess up your own clothes.”

“Ohhh, Jason… you are such a guy!”

“You would rather I be such a girl?”

“Of course, not! Just don’t be so obvious about being a man all the time.” Cyndi filled a glass of water from the tap, drank it in one gulp,then placed her used cup in the sink before heading toward their bedroom. “Come on, cop man. You play your cards right I might let you frisk me before we go to sleep.”

Cyndi heard light switches flip, door chains sliding and the announcement that the house emergency alarm was being set. Jason rushed through his nightly round of safety checks as he yelled to her from various locations around the house.

“Do you have anything on you that might hurt me?” Snap went the deadbolt on the front door. “Needles, knives, or guns?” Click went the security latch on the sliding door to the back yard. “Do I need gloves or cuffs…?”

“Not sure you’regonna need gloves but cuffs might be fun,” she called back as she climbed out of her clothes and dropped into the cool sheets.

Carolyn LaRoche Author picture

Author Bio

Carolyn LaRoche grew up in snow country but fled the cold and ice several years ago. She now lives near the beach with her husband, their two boys, two finicky cats and one old dog. When she is not at the baseball field cheering on big hits and home runs, she is busy teaching science to unwilling teenagers.

Where to find me online:



Twitter: @CarolynLaRoche

Buy Links:


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The Liebster Award

Co-Author Diane Burton nominated me for the Liebster Award. It just means I have 11 questions to answer and then I have to nominate some other bloggers to answer 11 questions I pose. Here’s my “award.”


Here are the rules of the Liebster Award:


And here are the 11 questions and my answers:

1. Besides world peace, what is your greatest wish?

Justice. Or maybe mercy for the poor, the helpless.

2. Of all the characters you’ve written, who would you most like to be?

Mariette, from Fortune’s Foe. All my heroines are brave, but she is the only one who deliberately goes into enemy territory to rescue her brother, and thus puts herself in danger.

3. What is your favorite book from childhood?

Just ONE??? Hmmm. I have to give you a list. Half Magic, The Wonderful Flight to the Mushroom Planet, Mother Goose Nursery Rhymes, Farmer Boy.

4. If you could go anywhere in the world (all expenses paid), where would you go?

China. I’ve been to 26 countries but have never been to China. I would love to take a cruise up the Yangtze River.

5. If you could invite anyone (living or dead) to a dinner party, who would you invite?

Leonardo da Vinci.

6. What super power would you like to have?

I’ve often thought about this and I waver between having a healing touch or being fluent in any language I encounter.

7. What was your first car?

A 1951 MG. I loved that car!

8. Who is your favorite villain?

Mordred from Camelot. Really, any villain who has good motivation for being a villain and who has a “good” side!

9. What book do you wish you’d written?

The Harry Potter books.

10. What is your favorite food?

I love peanut butter fudge. But that’s a dessert, I guess, so I’ll say pinto beans and cornbread. Yep, my roots are in the South.

11. Favorite clothes?

I loved wearing saris in India. I prefer long dresses and skirts and wear them whenever I can. Maybe because I’m a historical romance novelist?

11 random facts about myself:

1. I love peanuts in just about any form. Peanut butter, peanut butter pie, fudge.

2. I live in an 1840′s log cabin.

3. I love to swim and always wished I had a pool outside my door.

4. I spin and weave.

5. I knit and tat.

6. I paint with watercolors and acrylics and oils.

7. We have two cats, Chopstix and 5.

8. I can’t stand to hurt any living creature.

9. I think spiders and snakes are wonderful, fascinating creatures.

10. I have taught English, history, Spanish, and cultural studies.

11. I love to bake bread and do so 2-3 times a week.

And now the 11 questions I am going to pose to fellow bloggers and writers:

1. Who or what most inspires you to write?

2. Are you a daisy or an orchid? In other words, do you prefer the outdoors or being inside?

3. Are you an introvert or extrovert? Which would you prefer to be?

4. Do you write with music playing or do you prefer silence when you write?

5. Do you have a particular time of day you prefer to write?

6. Do you have any pets? What are they?

7. What hobbies do you have?

8. Do you have a “day” job? What is it?

9. What is your favorite beverage?

10. What is your favorite animal?

11. Do you have a writers support group or critique group?

 And here are the bloggers I am nominating if they choose to accept the challenge, er, award:

Julie Cerniglia Lence

Jennette Marie Powell



Posted in My life | 1 Comment

Past Thrills

There is a lot more to historical romance than you might think. There is also suspense and intrigue! Check out this video:


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Sheri Velarde


Quest for Redemption Press Release

The fate of the realms rests on the hands of an elven princess yet to prove herself and an orphan just learning his powers.

Zanna is an elven warrior princess, who seems to have it all, yet really has nothing. Her fate is not in her own hands. Instead, it is bound to an ancient magic she has no control over. She wants to rule the elves, yet must prove herself worthy before she is accepted. She also wants to find her mate, but after two thousand years, didn’t hold much hope. Her existence has become mundane, and she craves something new. A routine assignment suddenly turns into something bigger that could ruin all of them. Is she strong enough to save the world and find her own happiness too? Can she change and help change the fate of the world with her?

Will is an orphan who has always been confused by his strangeness. He keeps himself apart, separate from those around him. A chance meeting with a remarkable woman changes everything. He not only learns about himself, but about a whole other world that he is a part of by birthright. However the father that abandoned him as an infant stands to ruin his future and the future of the world unless he can be stopped.

Will and Zanna must face loved ones who work against them and their past as well as find the strength to fight a bigger enemy and save the realms from evil. Can love, friendship, family, and acceptance defeat evil before it brings the realms crashing down? Can Zanna prove herself worthy to rule the kingdom?

Author Bio:

Author Sheri Velarde

Sheri Velarde is an author, artist, independent comic creator and jewelry designer out of Albuquerque, New Mexico. She is a creative soul with eclectic taste and style when it comes to her art and writing. Sheri is a multi-publisher romance author who is now branching into fantasy as well with her Defender of the Realms series. When not creating (which her fiancé argues is never), Sheri can be found spending time with her fiancé and their two dogs, reading, watching fantasy movies, attending metal concerts and just taking time to stop and enjoy life.

You can view Sheri’s work on her website/blog:, on her Facebook author page:, and on Twitter at

Quest for Redemption will be out on Three Worlds Press soon!

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Little Red Riding Hood as you never knew her before…


Hi all, and thanks loads, Michele, for having me over to visit!

I’m so excited about my new release, Scarlett Legacy, which is a paranormal romance inspired by the fairy tale, Little Red Riding Hood. This story has been a long time coming, and some of my characters have had to be dragged along kicking and screaming at times – but I’ve gotten really attached to my wolves along the way, and I just hope other people end up feeling the same.


What if the fairy tales were not only real, but had it all wrong? Come meet a Big Bad Wolf like you’ve never seen before.

When Natalia rents a holiday cottage she is looking for peace and quiet, a place to reassess her life and recover from her failed relationship. Instead she finds a man who turns her world upside down.

However, people and things are not as they seem, and Natalia begins to find that legends are real and fairy tales have a basis in reality. As she grows closer to the enigmatic Damian she finds herself tested as danger and passion go in hand in hand, and everything she thought she knew about the world will be questioned.

After years of waiting Damian had given up hope that he would ever find his destined mate, and he certainly never expected her to be a sassy American who has no idea that his world even exists. Can he convince Natalia to believe in the impossible, and more importantly, can he protect her from those who seek to destroy his people.


Damian’s jaw clenched as he watched her amble through the woods, seemingly lost in her own world and paying no attention to any possible dangers. He lifted his head, breathing in deeply to take in her scent on the drifting breeze. While he’d been expecting a reaction it still hit him like a sucker punch in his gut. His stomach clenched and his body hardened.

His inner beast was already raging at him. The burning need to mark her, to possess her, rising up within like a force of nature but he grit his teeth and forced it down. He was not some undisciplined pup unable to control himself. Years of leading his people had driven into him patience and control above all else.

Instead, he forced himself to stay hidden for now, easily keeping pace with her. She was exactly as he’d always imagined—dark curls flowed down her back and framed delicate features, high cheekbones, and huge dark eyes with thick lashes. Everything about her drew him in, but he’d waited too long to rush things now.

When he’d first sensed her, that indescribable pull that couldn’t be anything else, he’d thought he was going crazy. He’d given up hope long ago, and yet there she was, walking through his woods as though she’d always been meant to be there.

He watched as she paused, looking around her with confusion on her face. She turned in a slow circle, her brow furrowed, and her teeth biting into her lush bottom lip. She was lost, he realized. Well, that was just perfect. His teeth bared in a wicked smile, he could go and “rescue” her. She would think he was Prince Charming when actually he was the big bad wolf.

Well, hopefully I might have tempted you. You can find Scarlett Legacy at:

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