Even grown-ups need bedtime stories, and this delightful collection of fairy tales will lead you down a magical path into forbidden romance and erotic love. In Michelle Augello-Page's naughty "Wolf Moon," Little Red Riding Hood herself is the big, bad wolf, while Kristina Lloyd reimagines "The Twelve Dancing Princesses" with a scorching hot threesome in "The Last Dance." Shanna Germain's "Mirror Mirror" reveals the Sapphic side of Snow White's stepmother and Lisabet Sarai's Rapunzel captivates us with her wanton ways in "Shorn." As editor Kristina Wright notes in her introduction, "the authors of Lustfully Ever After know your heart's most wicked and secret desires."

The female protagonist, Julie, is in her early- to mid-30s and works with her father in his consulting business providing conflict resolution counseling for businesses and organizations. Heath, the male protagonist, is the 38-year-old CEO of a large and lucrative jewelry company that has been in his family for years. While this anthology actually came out about a year ago (there have been more recent releases with my work in them), "The Beast Within" remains one of my favorites of the stories I've published.

Excerpt:

Monday morning of the second week, Julie entered the office in a bright yellow power suit with a lavish bouquet of red roses in her hands. Vivian looked up from her desk as Julie passed by with the large vase.
"Ooh!" the receptionist said, her eyes lighting up. "Who gave you flowers?"

Julie gave a tinkling laugh as she paused. "No one, Viv darling. I bought them myself."

Vivian's brow crinkled. "You bought a dozen red roses for yourself?"

Julie laughed again. "They're for my father. Red is his favorite color. I'm taking them to him later to cheer him as he heals."

With a little wave she turned and continued down the row of cubicles to the elevators, and a smiling Vivian went back to the work at her desk. Though Julie had been headed to Heath's office carrying a bouquet of flowers, it never occurred to Vivian or any of the workers at any of the cubicles that the roses might be for him, as no one liked him enough to even consider that anyone would take such interest in him.

Heath didn't look up as Julie sailed into his office, and she accepted this slight with her usual grace. At the soft sound of the glass vase as she lowered it onto a shelf, his head lifted. He did a double take as his gaze landed on the flowers.

"What the hell are those?" he demanded, his gaze darkening even more than usual.

"Roses," Julie said, stating the obvious. "I'm taking them to my father's house on my way home."

Heath's glare had grown more pronounced as she spoke, even as it didn't leave the blooms now set atop the shelf. "I don't want them in here. Get rid of them!"

Julie looked at him evenly. "Heath, a little brightness in this room while I'm here is not going to hurt you."

Heath looked enraged, and he stood up, slamming his palms on the desk in front of him. "If you don't get them out of here, I'll do it myself!"

He made a move from behind the desk, and Julie stepped calmly in front of him. Neither spoke for a moment as they stood toe to toe, Heath breathing heavily, Julie meeting his gaze with the silent strength she had always shown in the face of Heath's hostility. It was this time that she saw, as she looked into his stormy gaze, the flicker of sadness she suspected he didn't even consciously register. His aggression, his maleness, stood inches from her, and while she felt the stirring of arousal in her gut at the challenge, she took a deep breath and tempered it in the face of her immediate duty.

"What do you have against roses?" she ventured in a quiet voice.

The flicker grew then, but was quickly replaced by an even stronger fury. "I hate them!" he snarled, moving to push past her, but Julie stayed rooted, and her steadfastness made Heath back up.

The progress Julie had made working with Heath over the last week began to show when Heath actually chose to offer more information. In a low, furious voice, he muttered through clenched teeth, "They remind me of my mother."

"What?" Julie was surprised by the disclosure, and she stepped closer to him.

"Nothing!" Just as quickly Heath retracted, and Julie felt his energy draw back in as his nostrils flared with anger.

"Would you like to tell me about your mother?" Julie's voice was quiet, the invitation like a feather floating through the air between them.

"My mother was an evil witch! It's because of her that I'm the way I am." With this furious outburst Heath stood and stalked to the window, sending his rolling chair flying back to bang against the wall.

Julie looked at him, sensing the importance of his words. "What way is that?"

Heath whirled on her and glared. "Do you think I don't know what people think about me? What they say? That no one wants me around? Why the fuck do you think I stay locked in my office all damn day? Because I like it so much?" He gave a dry laugh that scraped like metal against concrete. "Not quite, sweetheart. It's because I know people don't want me around. Which is fine, because I don't want to be around them either."

Julie didn't answer, sensing, despite his anger, that she should let him continue. The young woman was surprised to find that his use of the word "sweetheart" had given the undeniable arousal in her a jolt. She took a deep breath, however, and released the distraction, focusing again on her present responsibility. She stood still and remained quiet, holding a place of safety for him to speak if he wanted to.

Interview

What inspired you to write this story?

First, I love the editor of Lustfully Ever After and really wanted to work with her again. I had never written a fairy tale adaptation and wasn't even sure how or where to start. In mulling over them in my head wondering which one to even work on adapting, I was struck by the idea of a reverse "beast" from "Beauty and the Beast" who is actually quite good-looking on the outside but exhibits a very unbecoming disposition. Since I truly feel that when people act in such a way there are reasons for it that are usually unconscious, it occurred to me to explore that phenomenon in a reverse adaptation of "Beauty and the Beast."

Which character in your story do you think readers will like the most? Why?

I would guess Julie, the female protagonist, because she is sympathetic from the beginning—as well as smart, kind, and very competent. All this contributes to her understanding of how to eventually work with Heath to help him release his demons, as it were. As it says in the story, "The pain, like a spell, needed to be broken."

Why do you write?

I've been writing since I was a child, and I think it was always rooted in a desire to be heard. I suspect that when I was small, I felt my voice was often drowned out by the grownups around me, and writing became a place where what I had to say was expressed without interruption or dismissal. I also found myself thinking things exactly the way I would write them if I were observing them and describing them in writing (if that makes sense). I didn't do this on purpose—it just showed up in my consciousness. It seems to me things all just came together to make writing something to which I felt oriented, and so far that hasn't changed.

When you write, what things do you want close at hand? (Coffee, water, chocolate... pictures of gorgeous hunks for inspiration...?)

I really like to get things all organized and comfortable before I start writing so I don't feel distracted by wanting something and/or so I don't have to interrupt myself to go get something. My water bottle is almost always nearby, and I like to have my phone within reach—basically so I can ignore it if it does ring but still not feel distracted wondering if someone is trying to reach me about something important. And as odd as it sounds, I like to have a notebook and pen close by too, because every once in a while I might want to jot something down or make a table or draw a picture or something that just seems easier to do on paper than on the screen. That pictures of gorgeous hunks thing is a great idea, though!

When you're not writing, what would we find you doing?

I love to dance and look for opportunities to as often as I can find them—even if that means just doing so during a short break in my office! I also adore baseball and often spend time during the season watching my favorite team either on TV or in person when they come through town. Lastly, I do a lot of inner consciousness Work, so I'm often doing things many people might find odd or esoteric like practicing silence, studying the Enneagram, partaking in some spiritually-oriented practice, etc.

Are you a plotter, or do you prefer to make it up on the spur of the moment?

I wouldn't necessarily say I prefer to make things up spur-of-the-moment, but that's often the way it's seemed to happen. Even if I do plot ahead of time, the story and/or characters have often gone off their own way regardless of what I thought might happen or how I thought they might be. I respect that and generally go with what comes through me rather than what my mind thought in advance.

It may seem somewhat ironic given that I write erotica, but the most autobiographical things in my stories tend to be the non-sexual things. Since it seems to me almost anything can be a backdrop for sex, I've often used non-sexual aspects of life with which I have experience or feel I know something about and combined them with sexual tension and/or interaction. Sometimes the impetus has already been there—for example, in my story "Power over Power" that Cleis Press published in Rachel Kramer Bussel's anthology Please, Sir (later reprinted in her anthology Surrender), the storyline takes place around a Krav Maga class. I did indeed take such a class, but I had a crush on my instructor too—so both autobiographical aspects are there! My story "City Girl," found in the Cleis Press anthology One Night Only (edited by Violet Blue) is set at a state fair in the Midwest; I grew up in Iowa, and the state fair was a prominent part of my summers before I moved away.

When an idea hits you, what do you do to capture it?

I like to keep a notebook or at least a pen with me almost everywhere I go. Both are within reach on my nightstand, in my car, in my purse, and of course all over my desk. The first thing I tend to want to do when an idea occurs to me is write it down! If my handwriting were more legible, this would be even more helpful. Modern technology has come into play too—in the unusual circumstance that I don't have a pen handy, I've been known to record a voice memo on my iPhone.

What other jobs have you held besides writing?

My professional background is fairly eclectic. My academic degrees are in politics, and I used to work in the nonprofit sector as a fundraiser, researcher, and writer. Prior to my finishing college, I worked as a lifeguard, children's nursery supervisor, and newspaper copyeditor, and more recently I've worked part-time as a nanny. After I left the day-job world several years ago, I entered the sex industry and have worked as a stripper, webcam model, and amateur porn performer. Currently, in addition to writing fiction, I work as a freelance writer/editor/proofreader. I also volunteer as a docent and tour guide at a local seasonal butterfly exhibit.

What's the best gift you ever received?

That would be a tie between two gifts with the same theme—the first would be my first cat, which I got for my seventh birthday, and the second my current cat, with which my ex-boyfriend presented me nearly 14 years ago (when said kitty was five weeks and five days old).

If you could time travel what era would be your first stop?

The late sixteenth century in Venice, partly because I love the wardrobe, but mostly so I could meet Veronica Franco, infamous Venetian courtesan of the time, and see the environment in which she lived.

What kind of music do you listen to while driving? Same question when writing?

While driving, mostly alternative rock and country, with a few variations here and there. I'm constantly downloading new songs I like and making random CDs to put in the car. I don't listen to music anymore while I'm writing. When I was younger, background noise didn't bother me—in fact, I usually preferred it—but in the last several years, my preference has shifted to the opposite, so that I tend to find almost any noise distracting if I'm concentrating on something else.

Do you play any musical instruments?

I played the French horn when I was in school. Not sure how much I'd still remember! I also played the piano when I was quite young, but I stopped that somewhere just before my teenage years, if I remember correctly. There was one song I memorized though that for some reason stayed with me, and I've been able to play it flawlessly ever since. Odd! I do still know how to read music in the treble clef.

What's your favorite movie?

Dangerous Beauty, which is adapted from Margaret Rosenthal's biography of Veronica Franco, previously-mentioned 16th-century courtesan of Venice. I've not finished the (very dense) biography yet, though so far it seems the movie takes considerable liberties. However, in and of itself, the movie remains my favorite (followed closely by The Dark Knight, Shakespeare in Love, and League of Their Own).

Are you the eldest, middle, baby, or only child?

I'm in the middle of three girls, so I have an older and a younger sister.

Please complete the sentences

I love pizza with sauerkraut.

I'm always ready for time in a hot tub!

When I'm alone, I spend way too much time on Facebook, Twitter, and other websites I tend to find astonishingly time-sucking.

You'd never be able to tell, but I used to be a Police Explorer and for several years planned to be a cop.

If I had a halo it would be glittery, undoubtedly, and multi-colored—much like a prism!

If I could pass the coordination test that is part of the audition, I'd love to work at Walt Disney World dressing up as Belle. :)

I can never enjoy cruises very much because I just feel too much fear of the ocean.

Previous Books

Tagline: An immortal enforcer is sent to punish an innocent woman, and discovers the soul he'd forgotten he possessed.

Blurb: She came to the woods to heal and found evil lurking among the trees... Upon her grandmother's death, Kendra inherits a cottage deep within an ancient forest, along with the powers given only to certain women in her family—powers she doesn't know she has. Recovering from a vicious attack, Kendra returns home to the remote cabin determined to heal both her body and her spirit. But the forest is ailing, too. Evil stalks its dark places, turning its quiet glades into a battlefield. When a strangely beautiful man appears at her cabin intent on punishing her for a crime she didn't commit, Kendra needs all her strength to protect her forest, her life... and her heart. Can she learn to use her powers and to trust Mykhael in time to save the ancient forest?

He came to the woods to redeem himself and found an innocence that would be his undoing... Throughout his long life, Mykhael has struggled, often in vain, to please the Atrahasis, immortal overlords of the sacred places in the universe. Now they have given him one last chance to redeem himself. He must punish the person they think desecrated an ancient forest in Northern California. But when he meets Kendra, he realizes he's doomed to disappoint them once more. Not only is she innocent of the crime the Atrahasis have accused her of, Kendra is the missing part of the soul Mykhael didn't know he still possessed. Can he defy the Atrahasis yet again and live long enough to save the only thing in his life that matters?

Kendra Weiss is in her mid twenties. She's been a folk dancer but with her injury plus her grandmother's death, she's come back to the cottage to heal herself and, as it turns out, the forest.

Mykhael Alastor, oh, he's ageless. Seriously. He would have stopped aging when the Atrahasis offered him an opportunity to right all the wrongs he encountered, around mid to late twenties. Which three thousand or more years ago was quite an advanced age. He's an enforcer, a guardian of the sacred places on Earth.

Interview with Kendra Weiss

Tell us about yourself.

"I'm afraid I'm a bit of a disappointment to my family though they try to say otherwise. My father controls large corporations, my mother is the ultimate hostess and my siblings are at the top of their field. I was uncomfortable in that life as a child, so they let me stay at Gran's cottage deep in the Sequoias."

Tell us about Mykhael Alastor.

"Mykhael's had a rough life. He was rejected by his father, one of Atrahasis overlords, though he was known as the god Alastor, whose duty was to ensure the sins of the father were visited upon their sons. Kind of grim, don't you think? Since his mother was not of the Atrahasis, he grew up away from the family and alone after his mother died. In spite of this beginning he became a soldier, then a war lord, then was offered a position with the Atrahasis. Even though his life has been one of war and fighting, he loves sunlight and the natural order of things."

What do you think is your strongest point?

"Oh, I'm not much really. I learned to keep the garden growing and how to live here in the woods. For a while I performed with a folk dance group, which was great fun until I had a set piece dropped on my legs and couldn't dance any more. I guess my strongest point is being too stubborn to give up when other people might."

What would Mykhael say is your strongest point?

{smile} "Mykhael really likes my cooking. Seriously, I guess he'd agree I don't give up easily...oh, here he is."

"Yes, and just in time. It sounds like you're once again bending reality, my dear. Let's see, hmmm...a disappointment to your family? And they LET you stay at the cottage?" Sigh. "My darling you really don't need to hide yourself from these people, after all they want to read your story. Kendra's grandmother recognized the power in her as a baby, and asked that she be sent to be raised in the woods. They resisted until they realized Kendra didn't belong in their modern world. They could not be prouder of their 'fey' daughter even when they don't completely understand her. As far as her strongest point, stubborn does come to mind. But even more her inner self glows with the light of her power, which she has never used to her own benefit. Although she does bake a marvelous loaf of bread.

"Now let's see about these other questions, since you seem hesitant to be truthful about yourself. Hmmm, weakest point, you have none except you don't think enough of yourself. You grew up here in these sacred woods, a magical area for sure. I'm not going to let you wish for something different in your life since all of your life brought you here to be with me in these woods, and isn't that your fondest wish?"

"Am I not allowed to answer questions for myself? And here I thought you'd become a more modern man. Now let me answer my own questions...oh, a place of perfect refuge--"

"I do believe you're blushing my love. Do you really want to tell them about your refuge...our refuge?"

"Why not let them read what Mona had to say about it?"

Excerpt:

            The peace she'd sought was here, and she wondered why she hadn't thought to come here before. In fact, until that morning, she hadn't remembered this place at all. As she settled herself on the mossy roots of the benevolent old sequoia, she wondered about that.

            Immediately, she felt the searching probe, and she redirected her thoughts. In spite of his restless dreams, Mykhael was awake and again trying to reach her. Now, instead of confusing his search with inane detail, she let her mind go blank and opened herself to the rising sun. As the first rays stroked her face, she breathed in the serenity of the clearing and breathed out her confusion, anger, and fear. The familiar ritual worked as it once had. Soon, she was immersed in tranquility, far away from any touch.

            The thought of Mykhael she rejected as soon as his image appeared in her mind. He was too close, too clever, too attuned. Thinking of him would bring him here, before she was ready to deal with him. Instead, she allowed herself to think of her cousin.

            Clarissa. Child of the light, with moonbeams threading through her hair and eyes the blue of the finest summer skies, though her inner person did not match her appearance. Clarissa, for whom beauty and success were a foregone conclusion. It was known in the family that Clarissa was beautiful and Kendra...well, Kendra was smart, which was quite good enough for her.

            Her cousin had come to visit in the hospital, overcoming an aversion to things imperfect. When Kendra expressed worry about the garden, Clarissa had been happy to come up, to help out. Why hadn't Kendra seen the danger? In her whole life, her cousin had never done anything for anyone else without expecting something in return. Still, Kendra had wanted to believe Clarissa's stated desire to help.

            Even knowing the truth, and knowing what kind of a person Clarissa had grown into, Kendra could not accept the duplicity. To even think of selling Gran's home was impossible. That Clarissa would intentionally pretend to be someone she'd always despised meant the purpose behind the act was darker than Kendra could conceive.

            It had been too long since she opened her mind to contemplation. Thinking was as hard on her body as it was on her mind. She shifted, trying to find a more comfortable spot on the ground, and her heel caught on a root.

            The pain came unannounced, ripping through her knee, rushing up and down her leg, piercing her heart. Kendra had not cried for her grandmother and could not cry for her cousin. Not yet. She could, and very nearly did, cry for the destruction of her knee, and of her life.

            It was the warmth, first, that let her know she was no longer alone. Not only physical warmth, but something far more than that. A gentle, nurturing warmth, reaching through the ice that had formed in her thoughts, around her heart. Reaching, searching for a way to help, to touch. To invade.

            Mykhael was in the glade with her.

            "No." Her eyes snapped open, but for a moment her mind refused their message.

            He sat close enough to touch, far enough away not to frighten. His green eyes regarded her with the unblinking stare of a predator. His legs were folded into the complicated knot she coucould no longer achieve, and his expression was one of benevolence. Kendra doubted that expression, and when he reached a long-fingered hand in her direction, she recoiled before she could stop herself.

            Mykhael paused, his hand in mid-air, reaching for her but not quite touching. Then he let his hand drop to rest on his thigh. From kindness, his expression froze into the remote aloofness she told herself was more in keeping with the person he really was. She would not allow his implied hurt to touch her. Not this time.

            "I could never hurt you, Kendra. Not in the way you think." In the hush of the glade, his voice filled an emptiness she'd never noticed here before, yet she knew it had always been there.

            He tilted his head to one side, and the entirely-too-thick fall of dark auburn curls draped across his shoulder. "How have I hurt you?"

            "By making me think I was better than I am, that I have courage and value. I've been a crawling coward all my life. I was perfectly content to remain that way. Now that you've made me experience valor, I know what I'm missing in my make-up."

            He allowed himself a small smile, as though amused by her explanation. "Your courage was always there, Kendra. I did nothing to force it."

            "Oh, like Oz and the lion?"

            This time his puzzlement was absolute, but he didn't pursue what she said. Instead, he looked around the glade.

            "Is this a place you came when you were afraid or worried?"

            "I found this place when I started high school," she answered obliquely. "Gran never wanted to come here. She said it should be my place alone."

            "No one ever knew anything about it. I'd forgotten about it myself until this morning." She looked away from him, lifting her face to the sun's growing warmth. On the edges of her mind, she could feel his delicate touch.

            "Go away, Mykhael. Get out of my mind and my life."

            "What is it you fear?" he asked, his voice low.

            "You," she answered without hesitation. "I fear you."

            There was none of the condemnation or argument she expected, nor any derisive amusement. Instead, a void suddenly appeared where his thoughts had been. Puzzled, Kendra allowed herself to look, really look, at him, for the first time that day.

            Backlit by the sun, he sat very still, his rising and falling chest the only sign that he was more than a statue. The belt of his shirt had come loose, exposing the knit silk undershirt. Mykhael had gone into himself, shutting her out as completely as she had tried to shut him out. Now she saw her own efforts as amateurish. Had he wanted in, he could have invaded her mind whenever he wanted.

            "Touch me, Kendra," he said into the blank silence that had taken root between them.

There was no force in his voice, and he did not change his position. With his legs wrapped up within themselves, it would be difficult for him to leap toward her. Yet she felt trapped. She pulled away, readying herself to rise.

            "You have no need to fear me. I think you realize that. It is yourself you fear."

            Whatever her fears, or lack thereof, she knew she could not respect herself if she backed away now. Finally, her eyes on his face, she braved a touch on his forearm. Just a light brush of her fingertips, trailing through the short dark hairs.

            She saw his pupils dilate, then his eyes narrowed and his nostrils flared, while his mouth

His small nipples hardened and rose against the silk undershirt. Fascinated, she continued to stroke as she recorded his reactions. A bulge began to show in his loose linen trousers, and she jerked her gaze away, to focus on his hands, forming into fists on his legs.

            "It is not just you, touching me. It is us. It is something concerning you and myself." He swallowed, and she tracked the movement of his throat then was distracted by the pulse beating at the base of his neck, the abrupt rise of his chest. "I was sent here to investigate rumors of people violating your grandmother's garden. I did not expect you. I am as shocked about it as you are."

            He lifted his hands, opening them, looking at them then at her. "I have tried to only touch you to heal, to help. But I cannot control what happens when our skin connects. I find I do not want to control it. Kendra, may I touch you?"

            Helpless against the honest longing in his voice, the torment in his face, she nodded. Her eyes squeezed shut as she braced herself for the now familiar shock.

            A warm breeze skimmed across her cheek, brushed the edges of her hair, traced the outline of her jaw, then swept on. Intrigued, she leaned toward rather than away from the promise of his touch. A lightening came to the glade, as though the trees themselves breathed a sigh of happiness.

            Finally, she felt the slight roughness of his fingers against her skin. Through some oddity of the communication they shared, she also felt the softness of her cheek under his fingers. He traced her eyebrow, the edge of her nose, the folds of her ear. Everywhere his fingers touched, sparks kindled. Soon she felt as though her entire body was on fire. The fire chose no one place, but she felt heat pooling in her thoughts, melting the lump in her chest until it ran into the

center of the most feminine part of her being.

Mona Karel is the writing alter ego of Monica Stoner, who has lived her life in a manner guaranteed to give any parents gray hairs. She's been a dog groomer, horse trainer, stable manager, waitress...then at thirty five took a job as a buyer's assistant at a nuclear power plant. A few years later she married the man she'd loved for far too long, and settled down for a while. During this passage into normal life she rediscovered her love of writing. Of course she couldn't do that the easy way either, completing numerous manuscripts which will never see the light of day while learning her craft. Distractions abounded, including her long time involvement in pure bred dogs and her husband's amazing artistic talent. Eventually her characters called to her to be set free upon the world, and she braved another round of submissions.

Previous Books

My Killer My Love was the first, then Teach Me To Forget. The books aren't related to each other, except being romances about strong women and the men who enter their lives to drive them nuts.

Books Coming Soon

A sequel to My Killer My Love, set in the ancient mountains of New Mexico

Let's see, what would be a good prize...How about a $5.00 gift card to the buy link of your choice, to a randomly chosen commenter?

Blurb: The dangers of being Imperial mean Princess Anne, Prince Brian, and Prince Christian must set aside their petty differences to support each other through thick and thin. As they struggle to find compatible mates, security issues come to the fore!

Lord Andrés Encino, for example. As honorable as a man can get, he nevertheless represents true danger to Anne simply because he has a photographic memory, and she is the principal heiress to Empress Felice Sinclair's ultra-secret stargate science. Anne sets aside her fears to pursue an intimate relationship with the immensely talented designer, which means her Sentinel Lieutenant brother Brian must also investigate all the Encino family secrets that could lead to security breaches.

As Service Lieutenant Prince Christian Sinclair battles his own insecurities, hoping to find a lady who could withstand the Imperial social scene, his ship is called upon to investigate the sudden disappearance of the Stargate Fleet, including Mother, Anne, and brother Josef. Their travails expand dramatically as the Imperial Family copes with the consequences of the Crandon Stargate Fleet Battle and the persistent attempts of the Atticans to either capture or destroy all stargate scientists!

What is the cost of being Imperial, in isolation and friendship and love? And how can they find partners willing to live with the security requirements needed to maintain not only their own safety, but that of the Empire?

Someone knocked on the door. Walking into the sitting room, she called, "Enter."

Brian stuck his head in with a smirk and a glance around the room before coming in and closing the door. "No Andrés? I heard from the Palace Sentinel command post you had his name put on the register this morning."

"Given that I have never done so before, I suppose they couldn't wait to tell you. But no, he did not spend the night," Anne snarled, flinging herself onto her front couch. "So, where is Cotton Candy-Brain? Still in your apartment sleeping herself out? Why are you here?"

Brian snarled back, "God, you would have to bring her up." He flung himself onto the couch, too. At her curious look, he grumbled, "We were in bed when I noticed she had a relatively fresh scar on her belly. I figured she had had her contraceptive implant taken out."

"God. Was this before or after you took her?" Livid for him, she realized this was the first she had heard of any lady trying to trick one of her brothers into a pregnancy.

"Before, thank God. I'm just glad I leave all my lights on when I am gone, and had neither time nor inclination to turn them off at the time." He slouched morosely. "I came over to tell Mother right away. Trinity will now be banned from Palace events for five years. I had Sentinel Command pull her doctor's records this morning, to be sure."

"I know you sleep with commoners. What about the ladies? Was she the first Royal to pull this on you?"

"Yes. She was the first Royal I'd even bedded in two years. We had a few flings in February, when I took her to some clubs and so forth. Then we hooked up at the Adamov Ball, and then I was too busy after that. But for the Inaugural Ball I wanted a Royal for show, so I thought of her first. Serves me right."

"How do you check on the commoners?"

"I have the scan function of my wrist phone programmed with the unique shape of an implant. Sometime during the evening, when I have my arm around them, I check to see. If the light flashes yes, I turn it off and say it was just a notification of some sort, which, of course, is not a lie." He snorted before turning up a grin. "But hey, you and Andrés?"

Anne shrugged. "He's spent the night on my couch several times. I usually just message down to tell them when it happens. But since he will be here today as well as tomorrow, and since I've finished my part of the New Brittania assignment in Mother's lab and have no more University classes, I figure I'm ready to start a new stage of my life. Though it is by no means certain, mind you. He just wants to have clothes handy for when we do take the leap. So I told him to bring an overnight bag, which will set off Sentinel if I don't already have the notification in place."

Brian nodded. "Do you love him?"

"He… fascinates me. At least as much as I do him. I had never had anyone in my life before like him. I don't know if that is love or not." She focused on Brian. "What do you think?"

He shook his head and warded her off with both hands. "Oh, no you don't. I've never been in love. I'm not about to comment on a situation about which I know nothing." He returned her stare. "What does Mother think?"

Anne laughed. "She thinks it's high time I had some fun. Even gave me some pointers I don't remember from the book. I wonder who has the book now?"

"Don't ask me; I haven't lived in the Palace for four years. I can get you another copy, if you like."

"Sure." She laughed again. "I can see myself, pouring over it with Andrés looking over my shoulder. It should provide a lot of inspiration." After a beat, she returned to her original question. "So, why are you here?"

"What, I can't just come tease you anymore?" Brian grinned at her frown but suddenly turned serious. "To tell the truth, when I heard you had him put on the list, I remembered Zhaiden's breakdown when Renee was abducted. Do you want Sentinel to place a detail on Andrés?"

Anne fell silent for an entire minute before tears began creeping down her face. Brian slid to her side and took her hand. "What's wrong, Annie?"

Looking up and into a distance, her voice wavered. "I guess I am as much a danger to him as he is to me, huh?"

He put his arm around her. "Well, yes, but that is true for all of us. And true for anyone we might meet. But that's the purpose of Sentinel, to protect us all, so you might as well take advantage of it."

Anne sniffed and nodded gravely. "I'll tell him tonight. Will you be around if he has any questions?"

Hugging her to him, Brian assured her, "You bet."

What is the most important thing you do for your career now, as compared to when you first started writing?

I constantly research and edit. At first I just wanted to get the major actions and dialogue down, but now I continuously edit for consistency, grammar, and fleshing out the scenes with pertinent information, such as burn therapies.

What do you enjoy most about writing?

I never know where it will take me. Sometimes I feel like I am accessing a portal to a parallel future dimension in which my characters live. I spy upon them and let the visions gather until I have to write the scene. Then I 'watch' the scenes in my head and whisper to the characters, questions like, "What are you feeling? Why did you do that?" In some respects, it's a god-like power of omniscience, but in other respects I cannot change things; they will act out the scenes until I write what THEY do and think. I know the overall plot before I start, but otherwise I am simply their scribe

What is your work ethic when it comes to writing?

Get it down, rewrite, explore every angle, put yourself in your character's position to understand him or her thoroughly, then research the hell out of everything. And then send it to the beta readers, rewrite if they make significant suggestions, send it to the editor, rewrite according to her suggestions, back to the editor for a final check, and one final edit.

How do you cope with stress as an author?

Although I write all the time, it's my passion so I suffer very little stress, no matter how focused I get. Most of my stress comes from beating myself up when I find another inconsistency I missed the first hundred times I edited! I have wrist phones and shuttle ports, so when I find a wristphone or a shuttleport, I go nuts until it is uploaded to Amazon or Smashwords one more time.

Do things your family or friends do ever end up in a book?

Absolutely! I include a ton of personal experiences, mostly my own, but I do not hesitate to include others.

Which of your books would you recommend to someone who doesn't normally read your genre, and why?

I wrote Dignity for many reasons, but overall I wanted it to be a book that would entice romance readers into reading science fiction. I wanted to see more great female scientists in literature, so naturally she had to fall in love and learn how to deal with emotions she's never experienced before!

What kind of books do you read when taking a break from your own writing?

I usually read non-fiction, but I have so many interests it would be hard to narrow them down. I would say my personal library has about 20% spiritual or religious books, for I was a 'seeker' for many years.

What do you think is the future of traditional publishing?

Traditional publishing will always exist until every e-reader can be charged with solar power and have books downloaded directly via satellite. Many of my family members live where internet access is impossible without satellite dishes.

Do you plan to branch out into other genres?

Absolutely. The To Be Sinclair series does not have 'aliens', though there are life-forms on many planets, so I have some 'alien contact' synopses in my Books to Write folder. I have about 25 items in my Working Files folder, at least a third of which are non-fiction, though some will end up as articles, blog posts, and short stories instead of books.

What was the proudest moment of your life so far?

My first five-star review, which I wrote about here: http://www.evacaye.com/my-first-five-star-review/. Turning away from the lowest point in my life to become an obsessive author, and then sending my first book to my first reviewer and getting a five-star review was like winning an Oscar for a debut performance.

What do you like to do when you're bored?

I'm never bored. There's too much to do and learn! I suffer major depressive disorder, which is characterized by real physical symptoms, like lack of energy, inability to perceive your surroundings, I could go on and on. When I have energy, I garden or clean or do something fun; when I have no energy, which is the usual state of affairs, I write or do research online or crochet, just to feel like I'm being productive.

If you were a color, what color would you be?

Indigo.

Please underline which statement is more like you:

"I am a vacation spa because I am laid back and relaxed."

"I am a ten-countries in ten-days tour vacation, because I do things as fast as possible."

If I could travel in time, I'd save the Library of Alexandria and see what the future will be like in 1000 years.

I can never stop reading spiritual books because I believe miracles are simply a science we don't understand yet, though a few people have passed along some good 'clues' along the way.

Previous Books

The To Be Sinclair series: Dignity; Majesty; Fealty; Royalty; Dynasty.

Books Coming Soon

Evan's Ladies (an add-on novel to the series, consisting of four novellas, expected May 20, 2013); Nobility (summer 2013); a finale the title of which I will not divulge until its publication, and two series prequels tentatively titled Enter the Goddess and Undying Dawn.

Find Me Here

Amanda Larson is dedicated to her job and doesn't want to make time for anything else. Until she runs into Jake Edwards. He used to be the cute boy next door; now he's a sexy, big shot lawyer.

Jake Edwards isn't interested in commitment. He's successful, sexy, and single--and that's how he likes it. When he reconnects with Amanda, Jake realizes he might have to rethink his philosophy on the carefree, bachelor lifestyle.

But, is it too late for them? Or can he convince her that he's ready to give her his heart?

Buy links: To be provided on release date

Author website for info: http://melindadozier.com

What are your main characters' names, ages, and occupations?

Amanda Larson, 26, Fashion Buyer at Macy's

Jake Edwards, 27, Sports Contracts Lawyer

In high school, Amanda was someone special. Hell, even before then. Their parents were best friends, which had forced Jake and Amanda together. At first, he'd thought it was a hindrance. Later, when she developed longer legs and a bigger bust, he found himself around her more. After discovering her quirkiness, her love of art and her sense of humor, he actually enjoyed being around her. But he never touched her.

He contemplated running his fingers through her hair like he did his first year of college -- the last time they were alone -- the night he left town and never saw her again.

Did she remember the night he left? Of course she did. Seven years ago, he'd ruined their friendship. He knew Amanda almost as well as he knew himself. Well, he'd known her. Now she was a different woman.

Jake leaned in closer, running his hand down her arm. "Know what I'm thinking?"

Amanda fiddled with her coaster and smiled at him. "I'm not sure I want to know."

"I'm thinking we should spend a lot more time together." He reached over and held her chin. "It's been way too long."

Amanda licked her lips, and damn it, it actually turned him on. Sweet little Mandy Larson wasn't so sweet anymore. She was driving him crazy.

She moved closer bridging distance. "Why wait? There's no time like the present."

"Exactly." He drank the last of his beer as the waiter returned with her martini sans olive.

Jake leaned on the table with his elbows, folded his hands together and studied her. "Look at you, drinking a martini, living the life in New York City." He examined her from head to toe. "A sexy skirt. Tall boots." He ran a finger down her cheek. "A beautiful face."

Amanda hiccupped and put down her glass. "Now, wait a minute. I know it's been a while, but some things never change, including you." She wagged her finger at him. "No smooth talking with me. Don't forget I used to know you better than anybody."

Because his fingers actually ached with the need to touch her again, he reached over and held her hand. "Yeah, but things have changed, Mandy. We're two different people now, and I can't wait to get to know who you are now."

Time Changes Everything Tour

Interview

What is the most important thing you do for your career now, as compared to when you first started writing?

There are a few things I do as a newbie author that are important. First, take a deep breath and relax. The author world can be overwhelming, but it is also so much fun, if you stop and smell the roses. Second, I have a critique group. Since I live in a Spanish speaking country, I find it difficult to connect with other writers. So, I joined an online group and found other established authors as critique partners. This is vital for an author. Other people see your work through different eyes. Third, an author should establish an online presence through a website, blog, social media like Twitter or Facebook. Readers will search you out using these outlets. You can also meet other fabulous writers and learn a tremendous amount of information.

What websites do you visit daily?

I'm addicted to Twitter. I don't know why. I don't know how. It just happened. No matter what time of day, I get on and something cheers me up, interests me, teaches me or amazes me. The best fun I've had all year!

What do you enjoy most about writing?

My characters take me to places and experience life in ways that I never have. This is what I love the most – living through them. I'm a hopeless romantic, so sharing a kiss, visiting a distant city, working a job I never imagined I could do, bungee jumping can all take place in my mind. It's almost as if I was there!

If you could choose anyone to be your mentor who would it be?

My favorite contemporary romance author is Jill Shalvis, so to have her guidance would be a dream. She has the perfect mix of romance, spiciness, humor and sarcasm. Everything I love!

How do you cope with stress as an author?

Lots and lots of coffee. Good thing I live in Guatemala, a coffee-producing country.

Do things your family or friends do ever end up in a book?

Yes! I never use real names, but there are times when something happens that is too good to pass up. I think "I've got to use that in my book." I also use names of people I know. For example, Jake's law firm is uses the last names of my sister - Snell, Marlow and Grimes.

What are some jobs you've done before (or while) you were a writer?

I've been teaching for 17 years and I love it. I don't think I could give it up. Other jobs in my past include PR work, a paralegal and waitressing in college.

What kind of books do you read when taking a break from your own writing?

This question makes me laugh. I never take a break from writing – or reading for that matter. I am always writing in some way, be it writing a chapter, a scene, plotting, thinking about scenes, editing, blogging, guest blogging. It never ends. But, I always read – every day – usually at night in bed. Most of what I read is contemporary romance and occasionally young adult (since I teach middle school). My automatic buy authors include: Jill Shalvis, Shannon Stacey, Ruthie Knox and Susan Mallery.

Imagine you get to go on a dream vacation, but you have only one hour to pack and leave, and it starts as soon as you finish this interview. What will you take with you and where will you go?

My dream vacation would be a romantic trip to New York City with my hubby. I've never been, which is ironic because Time Changes Everything mainly takes place there. I would pack my sexy underwear, flirty dresses, highest heels and of course my kindle to read on the plane. Will it happen this year? Wait and see.

What good book have you read recently?

I just finished reading On the Island by Tracy Garvis-Graves and I absolutely loved it. In fact, I plan on rereading it again soon. The characters got to me – you know their kind, the ones you can't stop thinking about once you finish the book.

What do you like to do when you're bored?

My name is Melinda Dozier and I'm a Farmville addict. It's no secret that I love computer games and apps. However, it's been a year since hubs intervened between my Farmville habit. I'm a proud survivor. Nowadays, I play Words with Friends, Draw Something, and Song Pop.

Please underline which statement is more like you:

"I am a vacation spa because I am laid back and relaxed."

"I am a ten-countries in ten-days tour vacation, because I do things as fast as possible."

Please complete the sentences

I love pizza with the works.

I'm always ready for a new episode of The Bachelor.

When I'm alone, I savor the silence.

You'd never be able to tell, but I'm actually quite shy.

If I had a halo it would be put on backwards, because that's just the way I am.

If I could rewind my life I'd spend more time listening to my Dad's stories.

I can never read Nicholas Sparks because I end up a blubbering mess for days.

An erotic BDSM thriller. Set in Cleveland, Ohio and the Ukraine, Domino is the story of a young, shy college girl's sexual awakening through art and bondage. An American version of The Story of O, with elements of classic international thrillers, Domino can appeal to the classic erotica reader.

The heroine Nancy is 21 years old and just finishing up her third year of college, where she's a literature and journalism major. Her roommate Hannah is 22, out of college and working as a magazine editor. Hannah asks Nancy to take over one of her article assignments--an art review--at the last minute as a freelancer. Nancy is reluctant, but agrees to do it for the experience. While on assignment she meets her review subject, artist and international playboy Peter Rostovich. He's of indeterminate age--could be anywhere between 25 and 40, we don't exactly know--but when he meets Nancy, the sparks fly!

The exhibit wasn't at all what I expected given the glossy sample photos in the press kit. While I recognized larger versions of the two advance photo copies in a far corner, they were hardly the focus of the exhibit. Instead the gallery was dominated by nudes rendered in all sorts of different media--photography, painting, pencil and charcoal sketches, even two video installations that appeared to depict out-of-focus video recordings of the photography sessions. In addition to the nudity theme--the images depicted men and women of all ages, shapes, colors, and body types--there was another theme.

Bondage.

Most of the nudes were tied up in some way. Some of them were innocent-seeming, perhaps using only thin thread or yarn to bind a model's wrists. Others were bolder, using things like neckties, scarves, or thick strips of heavy fabric like velvet or satin. There were accompanying items installed on pedestals beside the photographs--a piece of yarn, a spool of thread, a single rubber band. It was all very minimalist and odd. I'd never been impressed by so-called conceptual artists that placed ordinary objects in a gallery and called it art, but I had to admit that the arrangement held a certain sensual appeal. It made me think hard about how the models in the photographs must have felt when their wrists were tied, the sensation of thread against skin, the process of tying a slipknot, the restricted movement of bound wrists and ankles. I felt something beginning to stir deep in my groin, and the strange, unfamiliar sensation made me uncomfortable. And yet, I didn't want it to stop.

In between the photographs were paintings of various types--oils, acrylics, watercolors, a few pastels--that offered differing interpretations of the photographs. Where the photos were stark, black-and-white, and simple, the painted versions were bright, colorful, even impressionistic. Some of them had exaggerated proportions that emphasized the simple bondage elements, drawing them out into thick, wide lines that dwarfed the wearers into

I wouldn't have called it porn, exactly. But I wasn't sure I wanted to call it art, either. It was certainly unusual, even strange. And more bondage than I'd ever seen in one place at one time.

I understood the concept of sexual bondage. We'd covered it briefly in my Human Sexuality class my sophomore year, and I'd read a couple literary works about it, including The Story of O. But I'd never experienced it first-hand. Truth be told, I hadn't really experienced anything sexually first-hand, ever. Because unless you counted me giving my high school prom date a very brief blowjob (I didn't), I was a virgin.

I considered myself almost asexual. I'd never wanted a boyfriend--it always seemed like too much of a bother. I was too busy studying, or building my journalism clips portfolio, or working. And I'd developed a pretty thick skin as a weekend cocktail waitress. The money was good, but the work came with its fair share of sleazy drunken fratboys and balding businessmen hitting me up and trying to grab my ass all the time. It had turned me off men in general. And I wasn't interested in dating women, so I'd pretty much just chucked the whole sex thing altogether. Hannah teased me about it and tried to fix me up with blind dates almost every other week. I always refused.

Tell us about your story's world. What is it like in this period or place?

The book takes place in the present day in both Cleveland, Ohio and in the former Soviet Union--Ukraine, to be exact. The heroine Nancy is in college at CaseWestern ReserveUniversity in Cleveland. Originally from Boston, she chose that school over some more prestigious ones because they offered her a good scholarship--and she does not come from wealth. Cleveland is gritty and rough around the edges, and Nancy has always felt a bit out of place there. But its working-class culture still suits her well, since she's hardworking and putting herself through school. She works as a cocktail waitress three nights a week and picks up whatever odd jobs she can, which is how she ends up taking the freelance journalism gig and bumping into Peter Rostovich--a wealthy, worldly man who comes from a completely different world from Nancy.

Thanks to her encounter with Rostovich, Nancy gets spirited away to exotic places like the Presidential Suite of the Ritz-Carlton Hotel in Cleveland, and a private, top-secret S&M sex club tucked away somewhere in rural Ukraine. To find out why, you'll have to read the book!

What inspired you to write this book?

It was really a mix of things. I've been writing erotica for over ten years. I'm also a big fan of the international crime thriller genre, especially books by European writers like Steig Larssen, Jo Nesbo, and John Le Carré. I also think the main reason the Fifty Shades trilogy was so successful was because it blended erotica with a thriller plot across all three books. There seemed to be a lack of good erotic thrillers, so I thought I'd write one! I always try to write a book that I would like to read myself.

Which character in your current book do you think readers will like the most? Why?

I think people will like Nancy (the heroine) the most, because she's naïve-yet-brave, smart, and willing to take risks. She has a strong work ethic and finds herself in an impossible, yet thrilling situation because she wants to support herself by following her dream of becoming a journalist. She really awakens and grows as a woman throughout the story, and the confidence she has in certain areas of her life--like work and writing--start to spread to other parts of her personality that are just emerging, like her sexual self. A virgin at the beginning of the story, Nancy soon finds herself in dangerous, even life-threatening situations, and she must use her wits--and sometimes, her sexual power--in order to survive. She manages to do both on her own terms, which surprises her, and she even manages to use the situation to advance her journalism career. Nancy has a lot of spunk and gumption, and you will root for her.

Why do you write?

Honestly, because I have to. If I don't, I'll go nuts!

Who has helped you the most in your career as an author?

I have to say it was my high school English teacher, Mrs. Stevens. She was the toughest writing teacher I ever had, and I credit her with giving me the tools I needed to be a professional writer--both a journalist and an author. She was so tough on her students that most of them hated her (I did too, at the time), but I learned to appreciate what she instilled in me later on, especially when I got to college and then out on my first professional writing jobs.

When you write, what things do you want close at hand? (Coffee, water, chocolate... pictures of gorgeous hunks for inspiration...?)

Diet Coke, tea, and granola bars.

What other jobs have you held besides writing?

I've actually been a professional writer for my entire career, either as a journalist, corporate-communications writer, or as a novelist. Though I have also worked odd jobs as a waitress, as a temp worker in offices, and as a custom art framer back when I was in high school.

Which of your books was the hardest to write and why?

I think it was probably my other current release, Zombie, Incorporated. The heroine of that book is 18 years old and it's told in the first person, plus she is a very different kind of person than I am. Stepping into her shoes every day to write her story was tough.

If you could time travel what era would be your first stop?

Edwardian England!

I actually had two other books come out around the same time I released Domino. One is Zombie, Incorporated, a comic spin on the zombie genre, and Templand, which follows a young woman as she tries to support herself and find her way in the adult world working as an office temp.

Books Coming Soon

I'll be releasing Books Two and Three of both the Domino Trilogy and the Zombie, Inc. Trilogy over the next year or so. Also look for Permland, which is the sequel to my current release, Templand.

I will give away a free ecopy of all three of my current titles to one lucky commenter on today's post! Give your name and email in the comments to enter.

Find Me Here

Cover Love at Romance Lives Forever is a short intro to a book and includes a cover, blurb, buy links, and social media contacts for the author. Today's featured book is Hypnotize Me [Sultry SoCal 2] by Taylor Brooks.

Jack "Tag" Taglieri is stuck in a rut. His everyday life of fighting fires and no social life is beginning to wear on his nerves. The building tension isn't just getting to him, but his brothers in the firehouse are starting to notice as well. Being a fireman, his head always has to be in the game, with no distractions from his personal life.

Walt Newcome is a nurse still trying to put his personal life back together again after yet another failed relationship. At his wit's end with all men in general, he isn't sure if he should give up entirely or just stop trying.

When Tag is injured in a warehouse fire and Walt is the nurse charged with his care, the question isn't whether or not Walt will help him on his road to recovery. The question is who will end up healing who as the two become much closer than mere patient and nurse.

After we returned to our rooms and put on our comfy jammies, we exchanged gifts and then chatted about stuff. All kinds of stuff. This time, the topic turned to handsome hunky heroes.

Yeah, we went through all the normal attributes heroes are perceived to be, like firefighters and policemen, military, etc. Out of nowhere, I added, "My heroes are handymen--plumbers, carpenters, and fixer-uppers like the guys on HGTV."

Needless to say, hysterics took over us.

But it's the truth. We'd rather have someone who could clean the pipes, patch a hole in the wall, fix a light fixture, and nowadays, keep our computer running. Those are real men.

The giggles continued on when we began discussing the HGTV hosts that rock our world. And we did wonder if they were as helpful at home as they appear to be on television.

I tend to write about everyday heroes in my sweet meet stories. Chances are we encounter them in real life over a Navy Seal or Army Ranger. The lawyer who volunteers to run a Christmas tree stand. The accountant who helps someone figure out how to fund a business. The restaurateur who provides jobs and helps the local animal shelter. The store owner who wants to help his sick dad have a wonderful, last Christmas. The architect taking over his mom's business when she retires. The pilot donating a kidney. The schoolteacher who coaches a team.

They don't--usually--risk life and limb; they are the unsung guys who keep us going every day. Just normal average Joes.

Those small things are truly heroic.

BTW, did I mention the electrician is a fireman?

What kind of hero do you like to read about? Who are your heroes?

By Vicki Batman -- San Diego or Bust

After what was supposed to have been a romantic getaway to San Diego, Jill Grant decided her boyfriend, Davis Griffith Swansea III, was a dirtwad. Absolutely, none of her planning had pleased him and to top it off, he hadn't proposed. So when deplaning, Steven Cartwright comes to her aid, and she begins to question whether her Mr. Right is the right Mr. Right.

With a humpf, I dragged my pink tote up the narrow aisle to the plane's exit, accidentally banging it into the seats along the way. The relieving notion of being back home in Sommerville caused the tension in my chest to fade a smidgen.

A quick peek to the exit told me where Davis, my boyfriend, stood waiting for the okay from the ground crew to head out. His glance my way didn't look at all pleasant. Similar to one wrapped in disappointment with a downward tilt of his mouth.

I didn't care much. I just decided.

The words creep, jerk, moron, and “why in the hell am I still dating him??” jumbled my thoughts around. My heart pounded as anxiety ratcheted inside me again.

Maybe I shouldn’t. Maybe I should not put up with him anymore.

The deepest part of me knew I shouldn’t be with Davis Griffith Swansea, III any longer. I was just in denial. Over the past year, I’d had brief, momentary twinges of dumping him; then, he’d go and do something incredibly romantic like bring me Godiva chocolates--“I know how you love these.” Or buy me a new book by my favorite author--“I happened to see this today.” Or whisk me off to an intimate dinner à deux at the latest and greatest bistro--"I know you'll like this place."

My head had gone stupid.

Find Me Here