Sunday, June 1, 2014


By: Terri Talley Venters

“Holy shit!” Terri said. The American Alligator sunned himself on the bank of the retention pond. The sun touched its reptilian hide and he raised head, like he owned the joint.
“Mom, language.” David said, shaking his overgrown blonde head and rolling his blue eyes. The thirteen-year-old already had the teenage attitude down pact.  
“David, look!” Terri pointed to the gator on the bank between the retention pond and the tidal marsh leading to the St. Johns River in Jacksonville, Florida.
“What the…” even David couldn’t act nonchalant about this. “OMG! That big gator is in our backyard!” Standing on the rock next to the screened-in pool, he placed his hands on his hips, looking incredulous.
“It’s the start of mating season. I hear the gators move from pond to pond in search of a mate.” Terri said.
“Mating season?” David’s face, drenched in adorable freckles, looked at his mother.
“You know, how babies are made?” Terri laughed, knowing the embarrassing response before it even happened.
“Ugh, Moooom. You’re so embarrassing.” He retrieved his iPhone 5 from his pocket, snapped a picture and then typed away. Within 30 seconds he’d blasted all of his social media and texted his friends. “This is so cool. We have a gator in our back yard.”
“Wait until your father sees this. He’s on his way home from work now.”
“Can I go fishing?” Davis asked.
“Absolutely not! That gator could eat you! It could eat me, just like that.” Terri snapped her fingers.
“What’s for dinner?” David asked like a typical teenager, always hungry and worried about his next meal.
“Dad is bringing home sushi for us and chicken fried rice for you. Oh, that reminds me, I need to thaw out the ahi tuna for Daddy to sear.” Terri turned and entered the house through the wall of glass doors leading from the screened-in pool to the gourmet kitchen.
Opening the freezer side section of the side-by-side stainless steel refrigerator/freezer, Terri retrieved the frozen bag of Publix brand ahi tuna. She walked to the butcher block, dropped the bag on the counter, and pulled out the large Wustoff butcher knife to cut the tuna.
Glancing up, she froze at the site of David. He stood on top of a stone bench along the perimeter of the pond, less than twenty feet from the gator. She watched in horror as David lost his balance on the sloping bench. Attempting to catch his balance, he waved his arms and leaned backwards.
“David, Nooo!” Terri screamed as she watched David fall face first in the water, hitting his head on a granite rock along the perimeter. He lay still as the gator dropped into the water and swam towards her son.
Terri had already started sprinting out the door towards her first born child. After hurdling the fence like a track and field star, she ran like the dickens.
Still holding the large butcher knife, she shouted to the gator. “Oh no you don’t, mother fucker!”
Just before the gator got to David, Terri jumped through the air and landed on the gator’s back. Its head turned and opened his mouth towards her. With her left thumb, she gouged one eye and stabbed its other eye with the knife. The gator struggled as it moved its body sideways and snapped back. Terri pulled the knife out and stabbed its head again and again.
The gator backed up into the water, dragging Terri down with it. Once it got in deep enough water, it started twisting in a gator roll to drown its victim. Holding her breath, Terri circled around in the water with the gator and continued to stab. Bubbles formed at her lips as the air escaped her mouth. Her lungs burned as she continued to stab the gator. Then everything went black.
A bright light shone in her eyes and she squinted. “Am I in heaven? Is David okay?”
The light turned off and she opened her eyes. The smile of a handsome man looked into her eyes. The sun set behind him with lush palm trees swaying in the breeze. “Are you an angel?”
The E.M.T. laughed. “No, ma’am. I’m with Jacksonville Fire Rescue. Do you remember what happened?”
The scene of her son falling into the pond and hitting his head flashed through her mind. “How’s David?”
“I’m fine, Mom, just a concussion,” David said, holding an icepack on his bandaged head.
“Oh, thank God, sweetheart.” Something squeezed her hand and she turned to see her husband of twenty years at her side, holding her hand.
“Hi, honey, I’m home.” Garrison smiled down at her. Then he kissed her cheek. “You saved our son’s life today. That was eight foot gator you killed. Guess it’s gator tail for dinner tomorrow.”


Monday, May 12, 2014

Guest Blogger-Jenn Nixon, Author of Lucky's Break

Guest Blogger-Jenn Nixon, Author of Lucky's Break
After almost losing her Uncle Phen during the investigation of her mother’s murder, Felicia “Lucky” Fascino cut all ties and ran away, hoping her family would move on and forget the promises they made. Putting the past behind her has never been easy, but Lucky knows the job is slowly destroying her already fractured psyche. Staying away, especially now that her family is in danger, is the only way to keep everyone safe.
Kenji Zinn, determined to locate his ex-lover, tracks Lucky to a small island with her family’s help, and finds her in a miserable and self-destructive condition. His connection to her is strained after months apart but his feelings haven’t change, and he attempts to persuade her to come home, to protect her family and keep her promise. Despite her obvious mental fatigue, only Phen is able to convince her that the way to get closure is finding an elusive man named Quimby and take him out permanently. 
Once home, Lucky breaks it off with Kenji, and agrees to go back to work if Phen promises to let her go when it’s done. While her family continues to track their target, Lucky returns to work for the network—struggling through each job, aware that pushing her family away won’t bring anyone the peace they deserve. As she begins to repair her shattered relationships, her true feelings for Kenji are tested when she almost loses him completely. Before it’s too late, Lucky realizes he’s her best ally to help her finish what she started and find Quimby before he strikes again.
Excerpt 1
Kenji is at ‘the compound’ recovering…
Kenji jerked up, waking the instant the doors shut. Looking over, he saw her walk in. His heart thumped. His stomach churned, causing the wound to throb. It felt like he was dying a slow, poisonous death.
Wearing a sports bra and tight spandex shorts, Felicia moved to the mat and stretched. The thick, curly locks pulled back to reveal her stunning face and bright golden, catlike eyes. She appeared healthier, vibrant again. Filled out, with the curves he loved to trace.
            Kenji shuddered, attempting to ignore his natural response to her as he stood up. Noticing immediately, she spun around and gawked at him.
            “Didn’t know anyone was here.” She turned, picked up her towel, and went for the door.
            “Felicia,” he said and crossed the room, forcing his body to move faster than it liked. He winced near the treadmill, paused, and grabbed the rail. She lurched forward.
            “Easy,” she chided and bit her lip.
            “I am fine,” he said. “I will be leaving shortly.”
            “Okay,” she said while hanging her head. “As long as you’re well enough.”
            “Irrelevant. I have stayed too long.”
            “Don’t let me being here stop you from getting better. You won’t see me again.” Her tone turned tight, sharp.
            He bridged the distance slowly, nearing the weight bench. “Until you sneak into my room again.” Felicia whipped around, storming toward the exit. “How long will you ignore what you feel for me?”
            “What?” She seemed genuinely shocked by his question but didn’t miss a beat with her retort: “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
            “Why did you come to my room?” He followed her to the exit.
            “To say good-bye,” she said.
            “Every word you speak is a lie. You do not want me to leave anymore than I want to go.”
            “Keep telling yourself that, maybe you’ll believe it one day.”
“Is it so hard to admit you care?” She paused at the door and stared at him, emotionless. “No, you are too stubborn. You will realize you want me, and it will be too late. I hope you are willing to live with your choice.”
            “I am,” she said.
            “Go. All you do is run away.” He wave at hand to the door and shook his head.
“Fuck you.”
“Do you fear what I make you feel that much?”
“Listen, I just wanted to tell you my side, okay? That’s all. I know what I did was wrong. I tried to make that perfectly clear. It was despicable and hurtful. The drinking wasn’t an excuse; it’s just an explanation. I wasn’t myself. I don’t expect you to accept my apology. I just wanted you to have it because it’s the right thing to do. Gives us both a clean break.”
            Kenji wasn’t getting through; Felicia ignored everything he said. He didn’t care about that anymore. He wanted her to admit the truth. Confess what he saw in her eyes. Want him to stay. “You think a few words etched on a sheet of paper are a proper apology? Why not tell me to my face?”
            Her pitch rose. “You didn’t want me to know you were here. Why would I think you’d want to see me?”
            “You were on assignment. I know you did not need another disruption.” He looked knowingly into her eyes; she glanced away. “I said I would never trouble you again, and I have stayed true to my word. You approached me.”
            “You barged in on my family!”
            “They offered help if I ever needed it. I left you alone,” he said, the anger seething like an overcooked broth, rising to the rim. “If not for you, this injury would not be here!”
            “Oh, so it’s my fault you did a shitty job?” She placed both hands on her hips in defiance. His blood boiled, but he didn’t dare move closer. Then she laughed. Kenji almost snapped. “It’s all over your face; you fucked up all on your own, fella.”
            “You know that is a lie. Have you been flawless these last few months?”
            “I’m fine,” she said, slapping her thighs.
            “You have wanted to tell me how sorry you are, for this long, and I am supposed to believe you are fine? The shame must have been torture for you; a confession only helps so much.”
“It was an explanation.
“How long have you wallowed in your suffering?” When she glared at him, he smirked. He had ammunition to use as well. “I know you, Felicia.”
            “You used to.” She crossed her arms over her chest.
            “I see through your armor, remember?”
            Felicia tilted her chin higher, eyes narrowing. “I’m bulletproof now.”
            “I waste my words on you,” he said and approached. The slight trembles in her body told him the truth. Yet she stood there, resistant as ever. He looked down at her before passing. “Sayōnara, Felicia.”
Excerpt 2
Lucky and Kenji regroup after taking out an obstacle…
“That’s about as bad as it gets. Most of my marks are from a distance,” Lucky said with a shrug of her shoulders. “Up close and I tend to get….”
            “Brutal, Kenji. I wanted him to hurt. I had to walk away, afraid I was going to pummel him just for the hell of it.” Her body shuddered under his hands.
            “You were not brutal. You did what you needed to do.”
            “I didn’t need to kill him. I wanted to.” She stepped back out of his grasp and walked to the bed. “I’m not some sadistic fuck who gets off on hurting people, but sometimes…and with you there this time….” When she sat down, she pulled her legs to her chest. “Everything that happened yesterday, being with you in the field and letting you see me that way….”
            “The last few days have been taxing,” he said, sitting beside her. She reached the edge of every thought but held back, afraid to speak her mind. He kept his distance despite the desire to hold her.
            “I’m still trying to wade through it all.” She put her head on her knees. “What were you thinking, after I killed him?”
            “I thought you extracted all you could from him and finished the job.”
            She turned her head to face him, seemingly agitated. “Then what were you feeling?”
            “Satisfied it was over and impressed with your methods.”
            Felicia huffed, got up from the bed, and started to walk away. He grabbed her wrist. “Let go.”
            He held tighter and stood. “What do you want to know, Felicia? Stop being vague.”
            “How did you feel toward me?” Her voice was heated, sharp. “You were watching me like a hawk.”
            “Mostly, I admired your abilities and thought of little else. There were moments I felt intimidated, other times aroused. Watching you overpower and manipulate that man was invigorating.”
            “Why were you intimidated?”
            “The way you handled the situation astounds me. I was not needed, yet you allowed me to help.”
            She broke from his grip and walked to the opposite side of the room. He stood, silently waiting to see what she’d do. Rubbing the back of her neck, she turned around with wide eyes.
“After all that, you still want me.”
            “I have never wanted you more.”

Author Bio: Jenn’s love of writing started the year she received her first diary and Nancy Drew novel. Throughout her teenage years, she kept a diary of her personal thoughts and feelings but graduated from Nancy Drew to other mystery suspense novels.
Jenn often adds a thriller and suspense element to anything she writes be it Romance, Science Fiction, or Fantasy. When not writing, she spends her time reading, observing pop culture, playing with her two dogs, and working on various charitable projects in her home state of New Jersey.
Purchase links:

Tuesday, April 1, 2014


by: Terri Talley Venters

“Finally!” Yvette said, handing over thirty Euros to enter the Catacombs beneath Paris, France. She tucked her black hair behind her ear and then dropped her change into the zipper compartment of her hot pink cinch sack.
“I can’t believe we waited four hours in line for this,” Yvette’s lover, Antoine, complained.
“I’m sorry, my love, but I hear it’s to die for.” Yvette turned on her heel with a flirtatious smile. Her yellow sundress twirled around her summer-tanned legs.
Yvette descended over two-hundred stairs with Antione in tow. She walked briskly to the main “display areas” of the Catacombs.
“This is creepy.” Antoine stuffed his hands in his pockets and grimaced at the macabre display of skeletons. He snapped a few photos to commemorate their visit.  
“Don’t be a ‘fraidy cat, you wuss.” Yvette admired each morbid pattern of human bones decorating the winding tunnels of the Catacombs.
“I’m not a wuss, I’m just hungry. Can we go soon?”
“No way! We waited four hours, we may as well make the most of the time we have left until closing.” Yvette stopped in front of a wrought-iron gated door blocking a side tunnel.
“Don’t even think about it,” Antoine put his foot down. “See the sign? ‘Do not stray from the main tunnel’.”
“Oh, now you want to obey the signs. I noticed you didn’t have a problem taking flash pictures.” Yvette pointed to the “No flash photography” sign.
“I just want to see what’s back here.” Yvette tugged on the gated door and stepped back, pleasantly surprised that the door wasn’t locked.
“What if we get caught?”
Yvette shrugged with a wicked grin. “I don’t see any cameras or guards.” Yvette stepped through the open gate and used her phone as a flashlight.
“Arrghh, okay, you win.” Antoine begrudgingly followed his truant girlfriend into the forbidden tunnels of the Catacombs.
“Wow, this is fascinating! Look at all these hallowed out niches in the walls. There’s dozens of skeletons here. I wonder why they don’t include this as part of the tourist path.” She stepped through an opening and into an enormous cavern.
“Wow! It must be at least fifty feet high.” Antoine gazed up in awe.
“Are those stairs up there?” Yvette pointed towards a crumbling staircase.
“It looks like they lead to more tunnels.” Antione, now committed to the adventure, led Yvette up the narrow brick stair case. “Better let me test them first. If I fall, don’t try to grab me or you’ll go down with me.”
“Ahh, how valiant.” Yvette cooed.
Antoine gingerly ascended the stairs, using the decorative bones as hand rails. “Careful, this part is tricky and we’re almost at the top.
“Give me a break, I’m not going to…..” Yvette’s foot slipped as she reached her hand to grab the skull imbedded into the wall.  “Help me!”
With quick reflexes, Antoine grabbed her arm and tried to pull her up. “I got you, don’t look down.” Antoine’s calm tone tried to soothe her, but his panicked eyes revealed his fear of losing her.
“Antoine, let go or we’ll both die.” Yvette’s mind worked rationally to sacrifice her life for his.
“No, I’d rather die with you than live without you!” He pulled her arm up and slowly lifted her torso to meet his.
“Oh, Antoine! You saved me.” Yvette hugged her lover with relief.
‘There, I got you, my love. Let’s go home.”
Rumbling noises vibrated through the cavern. Rocks and bricks crumbled beneath their feet and they fell five stories, still entwined in each other’s arms.
“Here’s two more, Andre,” Yvette heard a Catacomb worker sigh. His tone dripped with a combination of disdain, exasperation, and just a tad of sympathy.
“How awful, Philippe. Why do we bother to post signs warning tourists not to veer off the carefully tunneled path?” A younger worker asked rhetorically.
Oh, thank goodness you found us.  Yvette’s comment went unnoticed.
“Stupid Americans.” Philippe started to pull the lifeless forms out into the center of the aisle.
I’m not American! I live in the south of France. Yvette retorted, defending her nationality.
“How long do you think they’ve been down here?” Andre asked.
“Years. The rats ate the flesh. Just bones and tattered clothes left.”
“Should we report it?” Andre asked?
“No, it’s almost closing time.  I’m too old to deal with the hassle and paperwork. Besides, you’re meeting that sexy Mademoiselle, at the café in an hour.
“Great point, my Manon, does not like to be kept waiting, especially since she is always late herself.”
“That settles it, then. Here give me a hand with this skull.” Philippe pulled the head off of Yvette.
Nooo! What are you doing? That hurts.  Yvette screamed as loud as she could. Her head snapped off of her spine and the older worker meticulously stacked it on top of the pile of hundreds of other skulls.
“Did you hear something? It sounds like a faint scream.” Andre said. He crossed his arms and warded off a chill.
“Yeah, sometimes the spirits lingers, like they don’t realize they’re dead,” Philippe said. He pulled apart the rest of the bones and removed the tattered clothing.
“Toss ‘em in the back?” Andre asked, even though he knew the drill.
“Yeah, then we’ll split the loot.”
Philippe and Andre pulled apart the big bones, and tossed the partially dismantled skeletons behind the neatly stacked rows of skulls.
The bones of Yvette and Antoine, now forever rest with the millions of bones in the Catacombs beneath Paris.


Monday, October 21, 2013

Guest Blogger Dorothy Bell


Hi, everybody, Dorothy A. Bell here. Thank you, Terri Talley Venters for hosting me on your beautiful blog. As an introduction, I thought I would give visitors a glimpse into my life so far.

I grew up in southern Iowa, moved to Oregon’s Willamette Valley at the age of eleven. I was in the sixth grade when I started school in Oregon. On my first day of school, I encountered the boy I would eventually marry. He kept pestering me, trying to kiss me. I held out until I turned sixteen, then I kind’a got the hang of the kissing thing. We’ve been married for forty-eight years, he’s still a pest, bless him.

I started out writing Regency Romances to entertain myself. I took writing courses, but I think I learned the most by submitting my work to publishers, editors and agents, and getting feedback. Laid low for nearly twenty-five years with arthritis, forced to use a battery-powered cart, I took up aquatic exercise and became an instructor. After two surgeries to replace my knees, I went to work on myself and lost eighty-five pounds, which I have kept off.

My husband and I live in Central Oregon with two West Highland White terriers, an energetic, longhaired Dachshund and one big, angora tuxedo cat. When I need a break from writing Oregon historical western romances, I work in the yard or my garden.

This year I am proud to announce the release of two Laura Creek romances “The Reprobate” and “The Cost of Revenge”, available on Amazon,

 Barnes and Noble,  Good Reads, and Freya’s Bower, as e-books.


The Reprobate

A Laura Creek Western Romance

Fiddle playing, hard drinking Royce O’Bannon believes he’s worthless like his old man, no woman should have anything to do with him.

Music teacher Cleantha Arnaud, her virtue long spent, believes her life is over; crippled and barren, no man would want her. When these two outcasts become lovers, hopes and dreams blossom within their parched souls.

Royce’s vengeful daddy begins a campaign of retaliation against his traitorous sons and the town that gave them a second chance.

Driven by a fledgling sense of responsibility, Royce follows his daddy into the dark tunnels beneath Pendleton’s streets intent on putting a stop to the old man’s vengeful crusade. With a swift crack on the head, all of Royce’s newly found hopes and dreams could be shattered like candied glass. Who would miss a reprobate, a worthless man?

The Cost of Revenge
A Laura Creek Western Romance
Quinn O’Bannon knows it’s time he settled down. He has two likely candidates, both sensible, attractive, young women. However, his fantasies keep straying to Tru McAdam, that thieving, sloe-eyed vixen with the grudge against the whole darn O’Bannon family.
Tru McAdam wants to believe the O’Bannons, all of them are rotten, heartless cheats. God help her, most of all she wants to believe the handsome, arrogant flirt Quinn O’Bannon is the worst of the lot.
When destiny shuffles the cards, strange pairs show up in the hand. Who can fight destiny, not the handsome, flirtatious Quinn O’Bannon, not the thieving, sloe-eyed vixen, Tru McAdam.

Caption: I will not forget this. Someday I will get even.

There’s a little kid inside of me that cannot resist donning a disguise of some sort when Halloween comes around. When my children were small, I dressed up with them and went door to door. Then I had grandchildren, and I dressed up and went door to door. Then the grandkids grew up and no longer wanted to go out with grandma. But I found a way to dress up—celebrate. Not only get in disguise, I inspired others to follow suit.


Monday, September 23, 2013

Take the Train Autumn Blog Hop

Join the authors of Wild Child publishing and Freya’s Bower as we Take an Autumn Train Ride through our blogs.
Prizes will include
  • Four $50 gift certificates (two for Wild Child and two for Freya's Bower)
  • An awesome swag package that includes:
    • Bookmarks
    • Books
    • Wild Child T-shirt and mug
    • Wild Child and Freya's Bower bags
    • Four handmade, crochet coasters by Kit Wylde
    • An autographed copy of Rosemary and Rue by Seanan McGuire
    • A rare DVD copy of the Matheson/Furst classic "Up The Creek" (lovingly used)
    • One ebook copy of Nita Wick’s short story, The Dream (previously published as part of a Freya’s Bower anthology.)
    • Book trading cards
    • Signed Dangerous Waters poster
    • copy of "Battle for Blood: The Blood Feud"
    • the winner’s name as a character in Kissa Starling’s next sweet romance story.
    • A Yankee Candle
    • and more...

The train from Rome arrived at the armpit of Italy, also known as Naples. Luckily, Gabriella only had to stop in Naples long enough to transfer to the
Circumvesuviana, the train which would take the dark-haired beauty to Sorrento. Then a ferry would whisk her away to her final destination--the beautiful and serene Isle of Capri just off of the Amalfi coast. Although she could’ve taken a longer ferry ride directly from Naples, Gabriella opted to detour via Sorrento just for pizza. The wood-burning oven at Ristorante Pizzeria da Gigino makes the best Neopolitan-style pizzas. She licked her lips, tasting the Quatro formaggi with a glass of chianti already.

The train’s engine expelled its exhaust as it stopped, and the doors opened. She retrieved her pink suitcase from the chrome luggage rack, extended the handle, and pulled it down the narrow aisle of the first class car. A woman dressed in a cobalt blue suit and matching hat exited her first class compartment. Gabriella did a double take because the lady reminded her of Queen Elizabeth II. Only this woman appeared as a platinum blonde in her fifties instead of the white haired monarch. The queen’s younger clone retrieved two pieces of her matching Louis Vuitton luggage, while a young Italian man helped her with the other three. The dark haired man didn’t resemble a relative. Man servant? Boy toy? Shaking off the notion, Gabriella vowed to mind her own business.

After patting herself on the back for not packing so much crap, she gingerly descended the three narrow steps. Setting foot onto the cement platform at Napoli Termini, she met with an early autumn breeze. Gabriella pulled her pink suitcase and briskly traversed the platform to the main terminal. Checking the enormous round clock at the station, her stomach grumbled. Ignoring the hunger pains, she bypassed purchasing a sandwich at the stand and followed the signs to the
Circumvesuviana. She avoided the ticket window and its long line thanks to the Italy Rail Pass next to her passport which safely hung in a pouch under her shirt. Pick pockets and Gypsies lurked at train stations, just waiting to steal from careless tourists.

Gabriella stepped onboard the third car of the train and couldn’t find a seat anywhere, at least not a seat with any available room in the luggage rack above. Not wanting to let her luggage leave her sight, she placed it against the wall by the bathroom and sat on it. The thought of risotto, Limoncello, and a swim in the Blue Grotto beneath the Isle of Capri tonight with her lover got her through the next two hours of the hell train. That, and the beautiful scenery--the ocean on the right and Mount Vesuvius on the horizon.

She arose from her perch on the suitcase as the train pulled into the small Sorrento station. Gabriella promptly found the WC, relieved to have held her bladder for the last two hours and to have avoided the putrid bathroom on the train. She freshened up her appearance before meeting her handsome Italian lover, Giovanni, for the weekend. Excitement filled Gabriella at the thought of great food, wine, and toe-curling sex on the beautiful Amalfi coast.

Before descending all of the steps from the train station to the streets of Sorrento, she spotted the lady she’d seen on the train from Rome to Naples who resembled the queen. Only this time, the lady stood alone without her five matching pieces of Louis Vuitton luggage and boy toy.
The lady scanned the train’s platform as the Circumvesuviana prepared for its return trip to Napoli. Making eye contact, the lady walked towards her with a waving arm and a look of panic.
“Excuse me, do you speak English?”

“Yes, are you okay?”

“No, I can’t find my porter. This nice Italian man helped me with all of my luggage back in Naples. He said he’d get it on the
Circumvesuviana for me and I could pick it up once I arrived in Sorrento.” A tear dropped onto her cheek as the realization sank in.

Gabriella’s heart broke for the woman as Rick Steve’s words of warning rolled off her tongue. “Ma’am, there aren’t any porters at train stations in Italy.”


Take the Blog Train and Visit These Blogs for more chances to win

Copper Cauldron
Penelope Manchester, a good witch with one green and one blue eye, awaits her destiny: a warrior of God with the face of an angel, the heart of a saint, and eyes which match her own. St. Michael the Archangel flies into her life and sweeps her off her feet. Meanwhile, an evil sorcerer captures witches, steals their powers and most of their nine lives, and shrinks them to the size of a doll--a Nuremberg doll. But when he turns two of the Manchester witches into dolls, the Manchester clan fights back with St. Michael and divine intervention. Armed with the legendary copper cauldron, a fire breathing dragon, and an arsenal of spells, good battles evil.
Available from Wild Child Publishing


Carbon Copy

Lilly Allen has brains, beauty, and a trust fund. She's living in New York City and her career as a reporter is taking off. She's hoping the love of her life, Grier, will propose soon. She has it all, or so she thinks.

Grier Garrison, Create Life executive, is running the company while his father, Dr. Michael Garrison, is in the ICU awaiting a heart transplant. Grier knows the truth about Create Life and its shady side business. He fears Lilly and her twin brother, Luke, are in danger.

While working on two unrelated stories, stolen newborns and cloning, Lilly discovers a shocking connection. Horrific things are happening, but who is behind it all?
Available from Wild Child Publishing


Tin Roof
the sequel to Carbon Copy
In the sequel to Carbon Copy, Lilly Allen returns to her hometown of Charleston, South Carolina, to be closer to her mother, help with her injured brother, and heal from the disappearance of her fiancé Grier Garrison. While she awaits Grier's return, she busies herself with her mansion renovations, her best friend's wedding, and her job as a news reporter.
But even her busy schedule cannot stem the worry over her brother's persistent amnesia and changes in personality. Is he her real twin? Or did they rescue a clone?
On top of this, the months of pining without a word from Grier begin to take their toll. She finds herself growing closer to her favorite cameraman, Joe. His confession of undying love, followed by a passionate kiss, has her questioning how much longer she can wait, and whether she wants to.
To further complicate matters, two unrelated news stories drag her into the seamy underbelly of the Charleston Police Department where murder and drugs are common occurrences.
In the chaos of a hurricane, another body washes ashore, and Lilly comes face-to-face with the murderer.
Available October 16, 2013 from Wild Child Publishing