Monday, June 30, 2014

KISS OF THE DAMNED ~ A Stylish, Sexy #Vampire #Romance #FilmReview #ASMSG

Confession time: I am a vampire film connoisseur. There are very few decent vampire films I have not seen. Actually only one, because I can't get it on streaming ... yet.  So, in truth, I am a bit biased.

KISS OF THE DAMNED cover art isn't bad really, but, its not a cover that would have ever drawn me to the movie. It was the Amazon alsoboughts that sucked me in.  Kiss of the Damned showed up in the alsoboughts of several good vampire films, so, I watched the trailer and was intrigued enough to one-click on the streaming video.

But if the cover hasn't convinced you, try this on for size:

What I got for my oneclick was a brooding, atmospheric and highly erotic vampire romance thriller. Suprisingly good, without being the slightest bit cheesy or campy. This is one of those rare films that uses zero special effects, yet manages to precisely convey the dark, erotic and deadly nature of vampires. 

Call me impressed. 

I would love to see a sequel to this film, shit, a series of sequels.

This is one of those rare moments when I absolutely love Indie filmmakers for doing a movie that Hollywood would never do, yet in so many ways its far superior to the standard vampire tripe coming out of Hollywood.

To be honest, this kind of drama is what the Dark Shadows remake could have been, if the filmmakers had taken it seriously instead of churning out a raunchy, slapstick comedy. This is vampire erotic drama AT ITS BEST.

The rundown:

We have a writer, Paolo, on vacation in the countryside, trying to use the solitude to write a screenplay. He sees our unusually alluring redhead vampire, Djuna, at a video rental store, and follows her outside into the rain. She does her best to push him away, while simultaneously seducing him. They end up at her home, an out of the way mansion, and things get a little steamy -- then wham! She shuts him down and puts him out the door. 

It was for his own good of course. These vampires kill people when they feed, more often than not. And as we learn later in the story, leaving a bitten victim to turn is a no-no, unless you are willing to take on responsibility for shepherding the new vamp into the fold.

Paolo is utterly smitten with vampire Djuna, and simply will not take no for an answer. They have the most interesting vampire makeout scene ever -- when she inadvertently bites his tongue and starts sucking the blood right from his mouth. 

From then on, Djuna has no choice but to reveal the truth, while naked and chained to the bed. (Never has a more interesting vampire revelation scene been filmed -- never)

Paolo is fascinated, aroused, and proceeds to play with fire by unchaining this smoking hot naked vampire, and having one of the best vampire sex scenes ever filmed. True Blood directors could learn a thing or two from this dark, sexy film. And, of course, Paolo is bitten, and subsequently turned.

He's alarmingly calm about the whole deal. But, the plus side is that Paolo now understands the allure of the violence his Agent wants him to write into his screenplays (before being turned he was some kind of literary prude about violence).

Seems like it was filmed in the European countryside, considering Djuna is French and has an accent, and the overall retro 70's-erotic-horror feel of the film, but, its actually rural America, with a couple scenes of philosophical American vamps sitting around lamenting about how it sucks that they must hide out from the world.

Raven-haired Mimi is the in-your-face complication to an otherwise idyllic love story.

Mimi revels in the savagery of her life as a vampire. She hunts human prey, seduces them, and kills them right in mid-orgasm (True Blood can suck on that one). If I had to choose my death, that's not a bad way to go really. Mimi, the bad sister vamp, constantly subverts Djuna's peice of mind and fragile control over her savage urges. Mimi is the temptress who makes everything in life interesting, but also destroys the relationships of everyone around her.

She's the perfect vampire whore you love to hate, and yet Mimi's so brutally honest about who and what she is. Far more honest than Djuna.

A note on the soundtrack: GRUNGE AWESOMESAUCE. The feedback heavy industrial grunge music grinds us through these dramatic, brooding scenes, a totally unique style of soundtrack for such a severe film. For a guy like me who grew up with the alternative grunge of Nirvana and industrial grunge of Helmet and Ministry, who happens to write vampire erotic fiction, this soundtrack was simply perfect in every way. The music made the movie just that much better.

I give KISS OF THE DAMNED, a solid Five Fatass Stars: ★★★★★

En Fin, I leave you with an alternate cover to the movie, which is far better than the dvd cover art:

And if you want to know a little something more about my own peculiar brand of vampire erotic romance thriller, check me out at TWLUEDKE.COM.

Wednesday, June 25, 2014

Beyond The Black Sea ~ A Dark #UrbanFantasy #Review #ASMSG

Those naughty little half-demon bastards are at it again! Wisdom, a genie and time-traveler extraordinaire, is back with all the usual suspects, for round two of the Activation saga. The mythology delves deep into the very origins of humanity, birthed from the decadence and decline of Atlantis.

Plots hatched millenniums ago are coalescing into the endgame ... and the end of mankind

In short: Earth is screwed. 

The only thing standing in the way of Armageddon is a gang of half-demon bastards, the last people you'd ever want tasked with saving the world. Antiheroes abound in this short, intense tale of a bad situation gone to hell faster than a jail cell fills with drug addicts.

Its X-men on crack, complete with doomsday devices, wizards, winged lizardmen assassins, dragons, shapeshifters, body-snatching demons, and of course, undead cybernetic solders that catch a scent and hunt their prey to the ends of the Earth -- all the old favorites

Fans of dark fantasy, urban fantasy and horror should love this fast-paced novel chocked full of mayhem, chaos, destruction, and snappy one-liners. Joseph Murphy at his best. 

Check out my review of the paranormal badassary of Joseph Murphy's first novel, Council of Peacocks.

Here's an awesome blog article by Joseph on Reptilians: 

Here's another awesome blog article by Joseph on Atlantis: 

Stalk Joseph Murphy:

Twitter (@windswarlock)

Tuesday, June 24, 2014

BDSM Goodreads #Giveaway! HERS TO CHERISH #BDSM #Romance #ASMSG

BDSM GROUP on Goodreads features: 


You're invited to join the BDSM Group on Goodreads for a chance to win one of 3 copies of  Hers to Cherish, a scifi BDSM erotic romance novel.

(Note: It can sometimes take time to approve membership--the group is private)

Who would’ve thought a rogue nobleman and a secret agent tied in shibari knots would be so instrumental in saving a world from sexual slavery.

Ramsey desperately needs a pardon. The catch: Win a grueling and bloody gladiator game. His consolation: Elite mercenary, Steffania Rickard, has been ordered to help DeKieran ~ posing as his sexual submissive.

When Ramsey DeKieran, disgraced nobleman and accused murderer, is offered a pardon Ram knows there'll be a catch. The High Lord of Verdantia offers him a clean slate in exchange for the off-world rescue of a Verdantian noblewoman ~ a suicide mission that has already cost the lives of good men. The one redeeming feature is the assistance of the stunning captain of Verdantia’s elite mercenary team.

For Captain Steffania Rickard, assisting DeKieran in the rescue of a woman critical to the future of Verdantia will be difficult enough. The rogue trips all her triggers ~ good and bad. Infinitely worse, to fit into the culture of Vxloncia, she must pose as Ram's sex slave. The sexually dominant Ramsey is nothing if not perceptive and Steffania doubts her carefully disguised and deeply hidden desires will remain concealed.

Their mission takes on new meaning when they unmask a heinous program of enslavement, long cloaked in secrecy. Together they must find a way to overcome their initial animosity and recover a woman vital to the future of their race. Together, they will have to bring a malicious entity to justice. In the maelstrom of sex, savagery, domination and submission, Ram and Steffania will need all their wits and strength to survive.


Chapter One

N.T. Solar Date 4637

Captain Steffania Rickard of the elite Blue Daggers fumed silently as her eyes scanned the seedy brothel’s dark, empty, upstairs room. Damn-it-all. I was certain I’d finally caught up to him. She’d wasted the better part of two months looking for this man. Her shoulders slumped in fatigue. She’d expended no small amount of energy slipping into this absurdly well-guarded bedroom. Any number of disreputable fighting men watched the rooftop, the hall outside and the stairs to the upper levels. No one had watched the building’s exterior walls, however, so she scaled the three-story brothel’s ragged bricks and entered by a poorly secured window. 

A small prick at her carotid, from what was certainly a razor sharp stiletto, froze her in place. She hardly dared to breathe. Her heart leapt like a springbok eluding a hunting cat. Stupid, stupid, stupid. You know not to let down your guard.

“You are not my type, Steffania. I like my women submissive and kneeling at my feet – not contentious and sneaking behind my back. But if you want me bad enough to break in here, I’ll accommodate you.”

Ramsey DeKieran’s deep, arrogant voice drawled low in her ear. He jerked her close, and his hard body pressed into her back. His hand roamed freely, intimately, between her thighs, across her abdomen then higher to fondle her breasts. He paused to toss her hidden blades and throwing crescents to the floor. She couldn’t mistake the prodding at the middle of her back for anything other than it was – a truly impressive erection.

“You conceited ass, I’m not here for that,” she hissed as his fingers rolled one of her nipples, sending sensation zinging to her lower region.

His knife still at her throat, he growled, “Turn very carefully. I need to check your back for weapons.”

With a snarl of her own, she complied. Unusual eyes of glacial blue with an outer ring of darker blue locked with hers. An unfriendly grin stretched a full, generous mouth on a gaunt, chiseled face of high cheekbones and a straight-bridged aristocratic nose. An unkempt comma of black hair hung in the middle of his forehead. A day’s worth of dark beard shadowed his cheeks. He looked feral, undomesticated.

His free hand roamed her back and buttocks, his arousal pressed into her soft abdomen. He found the knife at the small of her back and tossed it to the growing collection. To her horror, the flesh between her legs began to moisten. Damn him!

He leaned in and whispered in her ear, “Are you getting wet, sweetheart? Does dominance do it for you?”

“Bastard!” She shoved herself violently away with both hands, angered further by his oh-so-accurate taunt. It had to be a guess. She’d kept those desires carefully hidden. She retreated several steps to face him, gasping in air. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

A dark eyebrow arched slowly. “If you don’t want a good fuck, then what do you want, sweetheart?”

Steffania prided herself on being a good liar. The trick was to weave in some truth with the lie. In truth, ever since she fought beside DeKieran in the Haarb wars, the scoundrel had headlined in her sexual fantasies. “I’m not your fucking sweetheart. You’re the last man I’d want.” She threw her head back and glared. “High Lord DeTano wants you. I’m just his messenger.”

“Why would I do anything for Ari DeTano?”

“For a pardon.”

DeKieran straightened his relaxed posture. Not shrinking under his piercing examination took discipline. She stood motionless until the space between them vibrated with almost visible tension. Damn you, Ramsey. Say something.

Finally, he shrugged. “I’ll hear what he has to say.”

~ ~ ~

The royal chambers for the Second Tetriarch. So this is how the nobility lives. Ram ran his eyes along the heavily carved, spice-wood paneling and then to the marble floor covered with a thick rug of tribal design in vibrant hues of red, cobalt blue and gold. He contrasted it with the rough timber walls plugged with rags and paper that enclosed his room at the whorehouse. The wafer-thin, shit-brown rug on the plank floor of his room had long ago lost its original color to noxious stains and ground-in dirt.

His mind mentally tallied the worth of the gold picture frames holding miniature scenes  covering an antique occasional table and the unusual vase made of a precious-stone geode. A ten thousand credit vase holding common wild flowersPft. Someone has no regard for the rarity of that item. I wonder if it would be missed? He considered liberating the vase after he heard what Ari DeTano wanted. That one item would pay for his food and lodging, and that of his men, for the next five years.

Ram was a stranger to this part of Verdantia’s capital. He knew only the underbelly of Sylvan Mintoth – the places where the filth of their planet collected – human and otherwise. He’d never imagined a time when he’d sit in Queen Constante’s opulent antechamber – the evident wealth an unwelcome reminder of a life that should have been his. It is what it is. Deal with it. He idly worried a toothpick, flipping it from one side to the other in his mouth. Two members of the ruling Tetriarch, High Lord DeTano and his lover, that blond devil of an assassin, Doral DeLorion, appraised Ram in silence. Ramsey returned their focused examination with cool self-possession. If they thought to make him nervous, they could think again. Only those with something to lose got nervous.

Ram grinned at the feminine mercenary, Captain Steffania Rickard – a stunning, savagely competent soldier with breasts that begged fondling and lush lips that… Yeah, he knew where he’d like that mouth. Her unusual eyes of honey-gold glared back at him. Redheaded spitfire. He’d love to have her to himself for several days. The thought of taming the proud beauty speared heat through his groin. His dominance had aroused her. Ram knew it. He had an unerring instinct for detecting women who enjoyed what he delivered. 

With a long-suffering sigh to indicate he didn’t have all day – well, he did, but those three didn’t need to know – Ram addressed DeTano. “Rickard said you wanted to talk to me. I’m here.” He crossed his legs with a casual indolence and rested an ankle on his knee. “What can a dispossessed nobleman and accused murderer do for High Lord DeTano?”

DeTano nodded at his blond lover and second in the ruling trio. Other business occupied their beloved queen, or Fleur Constante would have been present, too. “We have an issue. Segundo DeLorion suggested your name as a solution. The Senzienza, in her obscure, mystical way, has indicated Lady Alessa DeAlbero is critical to the future of our world.”

“So? You don’t need me to find a lost noble woman with invaluable genes. You command the resources of the Second Tetriarch. I’m just one man.”

DeLorion crossed his arms, and his rich voice fell softly into the room. “We’ve tried for almost a year to recover her. We sent others – many others. They turned up dead – or not at all.”

After a moment of silence, High Lord DeTano continued. “The Haarb sold Lady DeAlbero to Veacon Narr. We located her but before we could move, Narr hid her.”

Ramsey grunted. “What makes you think the most notorious slaver in the Hyperion Galaxy is going to let me waltz in to extricate the woman if all your efforts have failed?”

Again, DeLorion’s voice fell quietly in the room. “We just need you to find her and get her to a rendezvous point. We’ll get her off-planet. I have approached the League of Federated Planets for assistance. But it is as I suspected. Our galactic peacekeepers won’t act unless I can document serious violations of galactic law. They won’t act for the recovery of just one person.”

Ram shook his head. “Still, why send me where others have failed?”

The smile DeLorion bestowed on Ram would have shriveled lesser men. “I would prefer you dead. My sister seems to think you deserve a second chance.” Doral lifted a shoulder in a shrug and shook his head as if to say his sister’s desires were incomprehensible. “Why you? You demonstrate a remarkable penchant for self-preservation coupled with a reputation for accomplishing the impossible – all while eluding capture. Besides, I am tired of consoling the families of good men. You are more...expendable. No one will mourn your death.”

Ramsey chuckled and returned his smile, in kind. “I did allow your sister to escape.”

“You kidnapped her in the first place.”

Ram shrugged. “I was paid to do a job. I did it.”

Doral held Ram in an icy stare. “And yet you still live.”

DeTano interrupted their innuendo-laden exchange and tossed a rolled parchment into Ram’s lap. “Read it. It absolves you of all crimes recorded against you, past or present. Find Lady Alessa DeAlbero, and we will sign it.”

Ram picked it up and scanned it casually. DeTano was correct. The unsigned pardon was broad-sweeping. Ram’s eyebrows rose at the minutely detailed list of criminal involvements he’d  thought no one else knew about. “Someone has been very interested in me for a very long time.” He smiled without humor and tapped the scroll on his knee with an assumed air of boredom. “How will you convince our good queen to sign this?”

DeTano looked at him thoughtfully. “Supreme Commander Eric DeStroia uncovered evidence that may cast doubt on your conviction.” Ari shrugged. “The case can be reopened.”

A resurgence of pain at Desiree’s death and anger at his unjust conviction flooded Ram. Hell’s breath. Thought I had left those emotions behind. His sardonic gaze rose and caught first DeTano then DeLorion. “If I’m successful, you have Lady DeAlbero, if unsuccessful, my dead body, and all it costs you is a piece of paper.”

A feral smile pulled at DeLorion’s face. “Yes. What I call a ‘win-win’ situation – for me.”
Ramsey threw his head back and laughed. When he sobered, he observed, “Vxloncia is a hi-tech planet. I have never been off the surface of our primitive Verdantia. My lack of familiarity with anything technical will handicap me.”

“Yes. We are aware of that. A Blue Dagger will accompany you,” DeTano said.

Ram considered the elite off-world mercenaries who had remained on Verdantia at the end of the Haarb war. His illicit, paramilitary group assiduously avoided Captain Steffania Rickard and her Blue Daggers. If Doral DeLorion was Ari DeTano’s right hand, then Steffania Rickard was his left. The Daggers had earned their reputation as galactic ‘bad-asses’ in spectacular fashion during the Haarb wars. Ram had fought side-by-side with Steffania and her Daggers during one campaign. As much as he would trust his life to anyone, he’d trust it to the Daggers – particularly their red-haired commander.

Ram grunted his acceptance. “It is also a world where male domination and female submission is enforced. I think their terms are dominus and slaaf. They hold their women close. Where do you suggest I start?”

“With Narr, himself,” said DeTano. “One of our contacts said Narr was infatuated with Lady Alessa. He knows we look for her. He keeps her well hidden.”

“And just how do I get close to Narr?”

DeLorion uncrossed his arms and tossed another paper into Ramsey’s lap. “The planet holds ‘gladiator games’ as entertainment. Narr, the primary sponsor, is obsessed with the bloodshed and spectacle. He always invites the winner of the games to his compound for an orgy of celebration. That will be your best chance to find Lady DeAlbero.”

Ram sighed and rubbed his face tiredly. “Gladiator games.” Shit.

“We took the liberty of entering your name,” DeTano said. “It’s ‘no holds barred’, but the only weapons allowed are archaic. You will be familiar with all of them.”

“Should be right up your alley, DeKieran. You get to fight dirty.” Captain Rickard’s feminine lilt spat the insult at him. “But this presupposes you’ll win.”

He’d forgotten her presence. At her challenge to both his honor and his fighting prowess – all right, perhaps he had no honor, but the slur to his skills stung – Ram rose to his feet and turned to look at her. A wickedly satisfying thought formed. He threw a quick glance at DeTano. “A Blue Dagger goes with me, yes?” DeTano nodded. “I’ll take your job, on one condition.” Ram pointed at Steffania. “That Blue Dagger goes – as my sexual submissive.”

About the Author:

Patricia A. Knight is the pen name for an eternal romantic who lives in Dallas, Texas with her horses, dogs and the best man on the face of the earth – oh yeah, and the most enormous bullfrogs you will ever see. Word to the wise: don’t swim in the pool after dark.

I love to hear from my readers and can be reached at Troll River Publishing or My Website.  Or send me an email at  Check out my “Hot Hunk of the Day” and latest releases, contests and other fun stuff on my Facebook Page or Join my mailing list

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Hers to Cherish on Goodreads

Thursday, June 19, 2014

Why a World Without Pain is a Wasteland #LifeLessons #ASMSG (Reblog)

This post from Victoria Dougherty was so awesome I had to reblog:

Why a World Without Pain is a Wasteland

October 8, 2013
pain 5Some years ago I attended an Easter brunch at some friends of my parents. It was a warm, wonderful occasion filled with people I’d known all my life, and who, through their example, had somehow always managed to make a better person out of me.
I was seated next to a young man named Tim, who I hadn’t seen since he was yay-high – cute and rambunctious, covered in some form of dirt from head to toe like most little boys. But by the time this Easter brunch rolled around, Tim was a man in every sense of the word – a U.S. Marine, in fact, who had recently returned from a tour in Iraq. A husband.
It is the tradition in Tim’s family to do military service before embarking on a career in law or medicine. In Tim’s case, he’d been planning to start law school in the fall, and a family with his wife, Kelly, right away.
But soon after his return, Kelly, who had been complaining of headaches and blurred vision, was diagnosed with an inoperable, terminal brain tumor. Lovely, bright twenty-four year old Kelly.
Within a matter of months, she was gone.
pain 4
“It’s downright un-American,” a friend had told me just a couple of months earlier, after our baby was diagnosed with a tumor in utero. She was being ironic, but her point was made to me days later by a doctor who said with a completely straight face, “I can only imagine how you must be feeling. You must be asking yourself, ‘how could this happen to someone like me, who is educated and…” He searched for the right word, but failed to find it, letting his sentence taper off.
I knew the word, though. The word was entitled.
Entitlement is something with which I’ve always had a complicated relationship. I most certainly feel a great sense of entitlement – no doubt about that – but what complicates things is that I know what the other side is like, too. I did, after all, grow up in a family whose problems began with capital letters: Communism, Russians, Germans, Nazis.
The women in my family smoked their 120 cigarettes and drank their tar-black coffee while they talked about Stalin as if they’d known him personally. The men talked very little unless you asked. Their pain was exhibited in their complete absence of self-pity, their sense of duty, and their wry smile. To this day, due to my family’s influence, I cannot bear a whiner.
So, that doctor was wrong about me. Sort of.
But he probably wasn’t wrong about most of the folks he has to break bad news to. Many of us Americans, regardless of race, gender and socio-economic background, feel a considerable sense of outrage when it comes to hard luck. If you have any doubt, just try to explain to a mother from a famine-ravaged nation that the poor in our country are overweight and often have televisions, cell phones, and designer sneakers. We Americans have always had a different definition of what constitutes quality of life than much of the outside world – and thank God for that. It has raised the standard for the world at large.
But there is a dark side to the way we flinch from pain and tend to scream “It’s not fair!” like an adolescent when things go tragically wrong. If you spend your life running from pain, you never get to experience the elegant beauty in grief, the myriad of blessings you can receive if you open your heart to whatever gut-wrenching experience has been visited upon you.
into the light
Let me be clear, I’ve hated every morsel of pain that I’ve ever had to choke down. And if I think I can avoid pain, I don’t just do a side-step, I RUN LIKE HELL. I hate that my daughter was born anything less than perfect. I hate that Tim had to lose Kelly and all the dreams they’d planned for their life together.
I can’t speak for Tim, but I know the pain I’ve had to endure has given every bit as much as it has taken away.
I now understand why, despite the political oppression my mother experienced in communist Czechoslovakia, despite being orphaned and left in the hands of cruel and resentful relatives, despite being thrown in prison for trying to escape to America, despite the death of her son – she continues to believe in the good of human kind, and often with more passion and faith than someone who has led a much easier life. It is because part of what comes with pain is the sweet knowledge that there are people you hardly know who come to your aid and save your life, that you have been dragged kicking and screaming into being a better person, and that whatever peace of mind you lost has been replaced by a gracious acceptance of whatever life has to offer.
It is why the slum-dwellers in India smile. It is why the Jews are famous for their sense of humor and the Slavs for their unbearable lightness.
It is perhaps why Tim approached me as I was leaving Easter brunch, took my hand and said, “We are so sorry for you and your baby. Kelly and I pray for you every day.”
I was speechless. “Thank you,” was practically all I could utter. We, at least, had hope. He and Kelly had none. I did manage to tell him he and Kelly were in our prayers, too, and he smiled and thanked me as well. “We’re just so grateful for every day we have together,” he said.
Part of me would welcome a world where great people like Tim and Kelly didn’t have to experience such a living nightmare. A world where only the sons of b*****s got it in the neck.
But then I’d have to ask myself what kind of world that would be. A world lacking inspiration, perhaps, resilience, growth.
Pain – aggressive, circumstantial pain (not to be confused with ennui) forces an answer to one of life’s most fundamental questions: What would you do if the worst thing you could possibly imagine happened to you?
It can be a horror to contemplate – no doubt.
But the truth is, in pain there is a purposefulness in every waking hour.
Without pain, the world would be a single-celled organism. It would be the vacuous smile of a beauty contestant, the tiresome political rants of a news junkie, the pretentious ramblings of an artiste.
All day all the time.
So, ask yourself this: could you even bear it? And wouldn’t you, in a world without pain, just want to kill yourself?
last party

Find Victoria's novel THE BONE CHURCH, on Amazon:

Tuesday, June 17, 2014

THE BONE CHURCH, a dark, sophisticated #thriller #Review #ASMSG

When long-time author friend Victoria Dougherty offered review copies of her debut novel The Bone Church, a historical WWII thriller, I said, "Over here please!"

Vic and I have chatted of many things, and found common ground in our love of Allen Furst, whose novel Red Gold was one of my research sources for my own writings on WWII Paris. If you've seen Victoria's phenomenal blog COLD, you'd know right away, this is an author well worth your time when she finally released her first book (and hopefully soon a second). 

A sophisticated thriller, The Bone Church, did not disappoint. 

Fans of Allen Furst, gather round, here's the new girl on the block - and she can write. Victoria Dougherty weaves a complex tale of one of the darkest periods of European history, birthed from the unsung stories of wartime Prague and post-war Prague. The author's Czech heritage shines brilliantly in this powerful story of the underground rebellion, of men and women struggling to survive and shove a wrench in Hitler's plans, any way possible. 

Jumping through time from the height of the German occupation of Prague to the great communist decline post-war, The Bone Church brings us a perilous account of pure duplicity. Treacherous secrecy, double deals, double agents, Nazi sympathizers, Catholic revolutionaries, thieves, gypsies, and survival by subterfuge. No one is what they seem, and their alliances are as double-edged as the knives they stab in everyone's backs.  

Yet, within this dark, twisted novel is another story of forbidden love with a Jewish woman marked for death. Postwar communist Prague brings no respite for our Jewish heroine.

Identities and residences are changed more often than clothing.

The intricate weave of events and time slipping back and forth carries the reader through to the promise of hope, and the sublime synchronicity of the secrets resting beneath the consecrated bones of The Bone Church.

A solid five star read. ★★★★★

Sunday, June 15, 2014

Preorder ZEBRA FISH Only $.99! #Contemporary #Romance #ASMSG

ZebraFishKDlast kyraPreorder Now for only $.99! (Price goes up on release)
*Contemporary Romance saga, the 3rd book in the Love Is Never Past Tense Series*
Newly reunited lovers Janna and Serge thought the world had given them another chance at happiness. After years of separation following a heartbreaking divorce and harrowing escape from post-cold-war Russia, the couple had reconnected through emails, and finally took the leap to see each other in person.
Zebra Fish
Their reignited spark burns ever brighter as they travel to Egypt for new experiences. Having trekked through the desert with Bedouins, they settle on the sunny beaches for relaxation. The beauty of the Egyptian sea seduces the lovers into a scuba diving expedition, but when their boat disappears from the surface, they are stranded on the coral reef with no rescue in sight.
BONUS STORY: A Favorable Offer
On their return flight from Egypt, Janna watches in horror as Serge is beset by an inexplicable illness. Fighting for his life, deep in delirium, death makes Serge a favorable offer… ‘let go and let death take him.’
Janna can hardly believe Serge’s feverish ramblings as she overhears snatches of their insane conversation.
Experience this poignant tale of a love that spans decades and continents, as this amazing couple travels the world, escaping one peril after another in their desire to forge a new future together.
*These stories are unconventional women’s fiction, told in the uniquely Russian voice of Janna Yeshanova. Though she was forced to flee her beloved homeland, leaving a piece of her heart behind, she will always and forever be Russian.*


FREE, just for signing up to Janna Yeshanova's newsletter!

*An Epic Russian Romance Saga Based on a True Story*

“A sensual love story set across contemporary Russian culture. It is inspiring as a reminder of passionate love beyond early youth.” - Dorothy E. Siminovitch, Ph.D., MCC, Coach, Author, Conference speaker and learning consultant.

A whirlwind romance on a romantic Black Sea beach turns into a quick marriage for Serge and Janna, only to have family, fate and foolishness tear them apart. As the cold war grinds to a halt, the politics of late Soviet Russia separates the lovers on different continents. Never quite coming together, never quite letting go, their lives overlap and entwine over the years…

“Can the power of love stand up to time, politics and distance? Two young lovers face turmoil, separation and the fall of their homeland. This intriguing and often painful love story spans for decades of life-altering years, life-altering events, but proves that true love will endure as long as the human heart beats.” - Amazon top 1000 reviewer

“The portrayal of Communist and post-1991 Russia is brilliantly done and made the story so much more than 'just' a romance.” - Amazon top 500 reviewer, Christoph Fischer

Beneath the adventure and romance is a deeper story of achieving dreams regardless of obstacles. Janna Yeshanova brings forth her personal account of courage in the face of impossible odds, her indomitable spirit, and a heart of gold that held onto a lost love for decades.

“This very modern love story, lets you feel the sorrow, fear and joy of a couple coping with events that reshaped the world. A great, dramatic romance in classic Russian style.” - Amazon reviewer

Anyone who’s ever pondered the eternal question, “What makes life worth living?” can find the answer within the international romantic saga of LOVE IS NEVER PAST TENSE.

Saturday, June 14, 2014

#Erotic #Scifi Cover Art Poll! UNDER BY TREATY from Kayla Stonor #ASMSG

Vote on the new cover art for UNDER BY TREATY,

A Scifi BDSM Erotic Romance novel by Kayla Stonor

He's hers by treaty, she wants his devotion.

General Jaden is a thorn in the Qui’s side. Ambassador Sonil is on Earth to extract him by treaty. When Jaden is stripped naked then caged, he gets a taste of how far she will go to ensure he is worthy of serving the Qui Empress.

Sonil's training is ruthless and alien rules apply. Saving Earth from annihilation requires Jaden’s complete surrender - failure is not an option.

But Sonil demands more than obedience. She wants his devotion.

Add to Goodreads:


(Formerly released November 2012)

Friday, June 13, 2014

The Box Set BASH! $100's in Amazon Gift Cards and other prizes! #Romance #SpiceBox #ASMSG

Come join us for the BOX SET BASH!

BOX SET BASH features authors from “Occupational Hazard” and “Spice Box” celebrating the release of their box sets with tons of cool stuff! Come and join the fun to with giveaways for gift certificates, author swag, e-books, and more! A $20 gift card will be given away daily along with a GRAND PRIZE: From June 14th through June 29th join us from 12 pm – 8 pm EST for your chance to win and chat with your favorite authors.

Raine Miller, New York Times and USA Today Bestselling Author

Cathryn Fox, New York Times and USA Today Bestselling Author

Eve Langlais, New York Times and USA Today Bestselling Author

K.M. Scott writing as Gabrielle Bisset, New York Times and USA Today Bestselling Author

Janelle Denison writing as Erika Wilde, New York Times and USA Today Bestselling Author

Delilah Devlin, USA Today Bestselling Author

Nina Lane, USA Today Bestselling Author

Cari Quinn, USA Today Bestselling Author


Lisa Alder

Maureen O. Betita

Lilly Cain

Cassandra Carr

Ros Clarke

Riley J. Ford

Geri Foster

Mandy Harbin

A.C. James 

Stephanie Julian

Parker Kincade

Kathy Kulig 

Travis Luedke

Sarah Mäkelä 

Ann Mayburn

Jan Springer 

Christina Thacher

And don't miss out on The Spice Box! 16 novels of Steamy Erotic Romance, all genres, only $.99!