Boston Author Event — recap

Despite the jet-lag (fly­ing from Seat­tle to Boston ain’t no quick hop), the sleep-deprivation (per­haps I shouldn’t have had all that wine at the hotel bar the night before the book sign­ing) and being totally out my league (watch­ing the big authors like Colleen Hoover and SC Stephens, I was kind of freak­ing out), the Boston Author Event was a com­plete success.

Yes, I was loopy and exhausted. Yes, over a thou­sand peo­ple had to wait in the frick­ing freez­ing cold for hours just to meet the authors. Yes, I ran out of books pretty much right away (I hon­estly didn’t think any­one would want to buy Sins & Nee­dles!). But man, was it fun.

Nat­u­rally it was great to meet fel­low authors I like and admire, such as Made­line Shee­han, E.L. Montes, Amber Lynn Natusch, Kendall Grey. It was just as good to meet the blog­gers I love such as Autumn from the Autumn Review, Aes­tas, Chris­tine from Cocaine and Cup­cakes, Megan from the Book Asy­lum (who helped put on the fab event), Kait from YA Vix­ens, Taryn from My Secret Romance, Sherre from Beck­oned by Books and more. But the BEST part was meet­ing fans, many who trav­eled just to see me, many whom I’d talked to before but never got a chance to meet, peo­ple like the EIT street team (Robin, Megan, Brenna and now Stephanie), Paula, San­dra, Jamie, Tressa, Nicole and count­less oth­ers. I also got to meet new fans, which was really cool. REALLY REALLY COOL.

The event was well-organized (albeit slightly chaotic) thanks to the vol­un­teers like Becky and Sarah, Mari­bel, Katie, Heather and more who were firm and tire­less with the bur­geon­ing crowd. Hell, they did a bet­ter job than some of the secu­rity team!

And I had the best table part­ner in the world, my fiance Scott, who fed me, gave me water, snuck me in Jack Daniels, han­dled the cash and man­aged to take a pic­tures of many of the peo­ple who came to see me. He even signed a book or two haha (for the Dex lovers).

So, with­out fur­ther ado, here are the photos…you’ll grow tired of see­ing my face after the third pic­ture lol (and watch for the awe­some Red Rum neck­lace Robin gave me!)

How AWESOME is this beau­ti­ful Sins & Nee­dles card she made me??

On Every Street is NOW LIVE!

On Every Street is now live on Ama­zon and Smash­words - just 99 cents for release week


“On Every Street is by far one of the sex­i­est books I have read in a long time. I am not by any means bash­ful but there were moments where I could not stop the smile on my face, or the flush in my cheeks. This novella will leave you on fire…”- My Book Muse

On Every Street is superbly writ­ten in every way pos­si­ble. Miz Halle has a way with cre­at­ing highly flawed char­ac­ters and weav­ing love and pas­sion into a dark and twisted story. Her words hurt me. This story hurt me. This story sucked me in, chewed me up, and spit me out. I was wrecked” — Roman­tic Book Affairs

On Every Street is packed with awe­some­ness. It’s an edgy, sexy-as-hell read and one you won’t want to miss”- The Demon Librarian

When young con artist Ellie Watt decides to call her­self Eden White and go after the drug lord who ruined her as a child, she never expects to fall for one of his hench­men. But Javier Bernal is no ordi­nary man. Sub­tly dan­ger­ous and over­whelm­ingly seduc­tive, Eden finds her­self pas­sion­ately in love with Javier, the very per­son she’s set-up to betray. With her body and heart in a heated bat­tle against her deep need for revenge, no one will walk away from this con a winner.

This 50K word (100+ pages) novella takes place six years before Sins & Nee­dles (book #1 of The Artists Tril­ogy) and tells the story of Ellie and Javier’s pas­sion­ate yet tor­rid affair. It can be read before or after Sins & Nee­dles.
You do not need to have read Sins & Nee­dles to enjoy this book and can be read as a standalone.

***Con­tains graphic sex­ual scenes, lan­guage and violence***

An On Every Street Teaser AND The Dex Prize Pack Winner

Two things to make this Fri­day more awesome:

The win­ner of the Dex Prize pack (which included a whole bunch of awe­some Dex merch…hopefully the win­ner can give us a pic­ture of her and all the merch when she gets it)…is.…

Holly, who left this com­ment on why Dex should be her book BF:

Dex is hands down my book boyfriend of the year. Because I haven’t felt this drawn to a char­ac­ter in…well a damn long time, if ever. He is a snarky son of a bitch, acts like he’s a badass, but most of the time he is far more vul­ner­a­ble than he wants any­one to know he is. I love the fact that he now embraces his feel­ings for Perry and strives to be a good enough man to deserve her. And hell…I love how truly per­verted and twisted he is. Just when I think I have him all fig­ured out, he throws another curve ball in the mix. And I love that.

So.…to sum up. Dex is my ulti­mate book boyfriend. He might be a saras­tic ass­hat at times, but I love him just the same.

CONGRATS HOLLY! I’ll be email­ing you!


OH and you wanted a lengthy ON EVERY STREET TEASER? Check out Maryse’s book blog NOW.


Chapter One of On Every Street (An Artists Trilogy Prequel)

So the peo­ple have spoken…you want this first chap­ter. And I must deliver.

Keep in mind that this takes place six years before Sins & Nee­dles. As such, it doesn’t con­tain any spoil­ers for those who haven’t read Sins & Needles…I’ve engi­neered On Every Street so that it could act like a standalone.




On Every Street — An Artists Tril­ogy Pre­quel Novella #0.5 — com­ing March 12

(unpub­lished ver­sion, sub­ject to change)



I’d been watch­ing the man for almost a month now, the exotic man with the peridot-colored eyes. From a dis­tance they’d always sparkled like the gem­stones, but now that I was in the same room with him, I could see they had an amber tinge to them, ren­der­ing them almost reptilian.

That should have been my first warn­ing, that this was all a hor­ri­ble idea. It was too risky and I was too emo­tion­ally involved. But I felt I didn’t have a choice. The man with the yellow-green eyes was just feet away from me, rep­re­sent­ing the first step toward free­dom. Vengeance was a ter­ri­ble prison.

Can I help you, miss sun­shine?” the bald­ing clerk at the counter asked, cut­ting into my thoughts. I tore my eyes away from the man, who was now sit­ting with a cup of tea in the cor­ner, and looked at the clerk with an awk­ward smile. I felt a flush heat my cheeks, know­ing I’d been caught star­ing. What had Gus taught me again? Never let your thoughts drift. Guess at the time I hadn’t known I’d be stalk­ing a Latino heartthrob.

Yes, sorry,” I replied dumbly. “Can I get a medium latte? Please?”

He nod­ded, flash­ing me a warm smile as I handed over the exact change. I stuffed a dol­lar into the tip jar, mak­ing sure he saw it before he started on my cof­fee. Peo­ple in Mis­sis­sippi were as friendly as they ever were, way friend­lier than back in Cal­i­for­nia. It felt like I was vis­it­ing the state for the first time, despite hav­ing lived here for a few years when I was a child. But I sup­pose life col­ors how you see the world, and the Mis­sis­sippi I knew back then was com­pletely black and white. Now there was a hue, that dan­ger­ous cit­ron I could feel on my back.

I took in a deep breath and resisted the urge to turn around. Instead, I pulled up my long blonde hair that was stick­ing to my sweaty neck and glanced out the door of the cof­fee shop. My rusted Chevy truck was sit­ting just out of view. I won­dered if I was get­ting too ahead of myself. I’d been fol­low­ing the man from his house to his, well, work, nearly every day, and there was a huge chance that he’d rec­og­nize me or my truck. I had been care­ful, remem­ber­ing every­thing that Gus had drilled into my head, even remem­ber­ing what my par­ents had once taught me, that there was no room for error in a con. But this was unlike any con I’d done in the last few months. This was the big one. This was the one that meant some­thing. This meant hav­ing my life back.

I could still feel his eyes though, burn­ing into me, like my back was as flam­ma­ble as parch­ment paper. I had to remind myself it didn’t mean he knew. I was wear­ing my most ass-supporting jeans and a tissue-thin tank top that showed off my tan. My hair was nat­u­rally blonde, but I’d got­ten a few lay­ers cut in and cham­pagne high­lights added just the other day. My makeup was as nat­ural as I could muster with­out being bor­ing. I’d pre­pared for today because I wanted the man to stare at me. I wanted his atten­tion because he sure as hell had mine.

The clerk handed over my cof­fee, and I took a quick sip before gath­er­ing my courage. This would go down a hell of a lot bet­ter with whisky in it. I slowly turned around and let my gaze do a sweep of the room, as if I was look­ing for some­where to sit. The man was no longer star­ing at me—perhaps he never was—and was relax­ing in the wicker chair, flip­ping through a mag­a­zine. He held his cup of tea in such a way that it exposed his large watch. Even from where I was stand­ing, I knew the thing had prob­a­bly cost a for­tune. When I was younger my par­ents taught me how to spot the real ones from the fake ones. They’d also taught me how to steal them.

The man was the epit­ome of the word debonair. The watch, com­bined with his smooth linen shirt and clean, dark jeans, sug­gested under­stated ele­gance, a man from money. But his pose, the way he held him­self, reminded me of a lion on his down time, rel­ish­ing his relax­ation, know­ing he still ruled the land. I’d had such thoughts about him before, but now, up close, I could just feel the power vibrat­ing off of him, fill­ing the room.

I wasn’t the only one to notice this either. Men in the café shot him curi­ous glances, as if they should know who he was, while the women timidly tucked their hair behind their ears, eyes dart­ing to him and back again. I couldn’t blame them. The man wasn’t stereo­typ­i­cally hand­some and yet you couldn’t stop star­ing at him. At least I couldn’t. And that was going to be a problem.

I spied a cou­ple get­ting up from the couch near­est to him and took the oppor­tu­nity. I walked slowly over, and gen­tly, ever so casu­ally, took my seat on the couch. I placed my cof­fee on the table that sat between us, tak­ing a moment to let my eyes feast on him. He was so close now, just a cou­ple of feet between us. I felt like I was at the zoo, the glass between me and the beast sud­denly removed.

He was even more strik­ing from this dis­tance. His eyes moved back and forth as they scanned the page, spark­ing with intel­li­gence, the color of bud­ding leaves. His mouth was wide, twisted in a smirk, and his nose looked slightly too wide for his face and had obvi­ously been bro­ken a few times. His skin was golden and so smooth that I had to recal­cu­late how old he was. Per­haps he was closer to my age than I had orig­i­nally thought. Still, he didn’t look like any twenty-year-old. He didn’t look like any­one I’d ever seen before.

He brushed his shaggy dark hair behind his ears, his palm graz­ing his cheek­bones, and I had the chance to look away. To not get caught gawk­ing at him. To save myself. But I couldn’t help it. I was naïve and young and caught in the spark that would cre­ate the flames.

He looked up from his mag­a­zine and our eyes met. I’ve never believed in love at first sight. I barely believed in lust at first sight. I didn’t believe in any­thing except right­ing all the wrongs in my life. But at that moment, this man saw me. The real me under­neath the bomb­shell mask. I felt like he must have seen everything.

And that’s who his smile was for. It reached through me and did some­thing to my heart, to my lungs, to my nerves. It pulled at me, tugged some­where deep inside, like a win­dow shade being drawn open. It was dan­ger­ous to love that feel­ing, but I did.

Hello,” he said, his Mex­i­can accent light and melodic. His teeth were white, his smile cap­ti­vat­ing, and it took every brain cell to remem­ber why I was there and what I was doing. And that my name was no longer Ellie Watt. It was Eden White. And I had a job to do.

I gave him a pretty smile and knew that damn flush was com­ing back on my cheeks. I had inex­pe­ri­ence writ­ten all over my face.

Hi,” I replied, lean­ing for­ward to pick up my cof­fee, hop­ing that he’d get a good look at my chest. I didn’t have the biggest breasts, but they looked down­right perky in this top, and I was cer­tain that I could poke his eyes out with my nip­ples. Thank god for air conditioning.

But his eyes never strayed from mine. Either this man had man­ners or he wasn’t into women. I’d never con­sid­ered that sce­nario in the last cou­ple of weeks. Per­haps my attempt to get to know him would back­fire. What use was hav­ing wom­anly charms if he pre­ferred them the cock variety?

I’m Javier,” he said, extend­ing his hand with the watch on it, the rich brown leather gleam­ing under the lights.

Javier. He now had a name. And from the way his eyes were still cut­ting into mine, how his grin lit up his face like he’d just won the lot­tery, I knew Javier wasn’t immune to women after all.

I ignored the but­ter­flies in my core and placed my hand in his. His shake was strong and warm with confidence.

I’m Eden,” I said, try­ing to feed off his self-assurance. I was Eden now. It had taken me a while to get used to my fake name, but now it was slip­ping on like fine silk. Maybe pre­tend­ing to be some­one else would be eas­ier than I thought.

His thumb rubbed against my knuckle, softly and sweetly, before he let go of my hand. I fought the urge to bite my lip. The young school­girl shit prob­a­bly wouldn’t jibe with him, even though that’s really all I was. I wasn’t in school, but around men I was as green as a young filly. And this man’s touch was ignit­ing some­thing in me that I’d never felt before.

Nice to meet you, Eden,” he said smoothly. I watched his mouth as he talked, feel­ing a blan­ket of warmth coat me as he pro­nounced my new name. Shit. I was sup­posed to be seduc­ing him, wasn’t I? Not the other way around.

So what brings you here?” he asked, lean­ing for­ward on his knees, his hands clasped together.

I swal­lowed hard and raised my cup at him. “Cof­fee?” My heart began to beat louder, whoosh­ing in my ears.

He smirked. “I can see that. It’s just that I’ve never seen you here before. I come here every day and I think I’d remem­ber some­one as beau­ti­ful as you.”

Oh, this Javier—he was good. It didn’t sur­prise me, con­sid­er­ing the way I’d seen him act­ing at his “job.” Or, to put it bet­ter, the way his col­leagues acted around him. I should have known he’d be a smooth oper­a­tor with the ladies.

I quickly recalled my story. “I just moved to Ocean Springs and thought I’d check this place out. Seems to be one of the more pop­u­lar cof­fee shops.”

The cor­ner of his mouth twitched and his eyes nar­rowed devi­ously as he appraised what I said. I swear, my heart could have replaced the drum­mer for Slayer at that moment.

Inter­est­ing,” he commented.

Inter­est­ing, I think I’ve seen you in your truck, sit­ting out­side my boss’s house all day? Inter­est­ing, I think you’ve used a fake name? Inter­est­ing, I think you’re lying through your teeth? I was pre­pared for him to elab­o­rate by say­ing any of those.

But he tilted his head, a small gold chain neck­lace nes­tled in his shirt col­lar catch­ing my eye, and said with a low­ered voice, “Do you believe in fate, Eden?”

Well that caught me off guard. Maybe that was his inten­tion. I frowned and straight­ened up, unsure how to pla­cate this strange animal.

Some­times I do,” I man­aged to say, try­ing to keep the breezi­ness in my voice.

I think it was fate that brought you to me today,” he said. The hairs at the back of my neck stood straight up and I knew I couldn’t blame the air con­di­tion­ing on that.

You do?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

He nod­ded, cool and con­fi­dent. He sat back in his chair and drummed his fin­gers on his leg, watch­ing me so closely, too closely.

I think you’ll look back at this in a few years and you’ll know what I know.”

And what’s that?” I asked, for­get­ting every­thing I’d been plan­ning to do, just so com­pletely and utterly enthralled.

You’ll have to find out for your­self. Bet­ter yet, I can get you started. This Friday.”

My face must have looked blank because he went on with a wry smile, “I’m going to take you out on a date.”

Shit. That was fast.  That was easy. And extremely cocky of him.

How do you know I don’t have a boyfriend?” I asked him, won­der­ing if my sin­gle­dom and vir­gin­hood was stamped all over me.

Because I don’t believe in acci­dents,” he said, lick­ing his lips. “But I do believe you’ll say yes.”

I had half a nerve to make my lie worse, to tell him I had a boyfriend and that I didn’t want to go out with him, a total stranger. But that would defeat the whole pur­pose of the long con, the rea­son I had sought him out. Besides, those lips and those eyes, that swag­ger in his lilt­ing voice, was ignit­ing a fire in me where I’d never been burn­ing before.

I was doomed.

Okay,” I said shyly. He gave me that prize-winning grin again and pulled out a busi­ness card from his full wal­let, hand­ing it to me.

I turned it over in my hands, feel­ing the grooved paper.

Javier Bernal,” I read out loud. “Consultant.”

And that was it. Just his phone number.

Who do you con­sult?” I asked, look­ing up at him.

I could have sworn his face went rigid for a sec­ond, but maybe because I was look­ing for it. Maybe because I knew he wasn’t a con­sul­tant. Maybe because I knew who he really was, part of a drug car­tel, work­ing as a hench­man for one of the most pow­er­ful drug lords on the Gulf Coast. Maybe because I knew he had more secrets to hide than I did.

But he just shrugged and said, “Peo­ple who need it.”

He got out of his chair with all the ease of a pan­ther and tapped the card with a well-manicured fin­ger. “Call me. Soon.”

Then he left the store, toss­ing his tea in the waste­bas­ket with­out looking.

It took a good few min­utes for me to calm down and get my heart­beat back to an accept­able level. Ever since I left Cal­i­for­nia and came here, I knew what I had set out to do. I had pre­pared for it as much as I could. I was going to find Travis, the man who scarred me as a child when my parent’s scam went wrong. I was going to get to him by seduc­ing some­one close to him, some­one who could get me in close. Then I was going to have my revenge, the only thing that had kept me going over the years.

It’s just when I choose Javier as my mark, I never thought my mark would choose me. Because that’s what Javier had just done. I wanted to win over his heart so I could get what I wanted. But I had a feel­ing he was about to get to my heart first.



The Double Standard (or Bad Girls Need Love Too)

Being an author, it’s amus­ing to see the type of feed­back you get on your books, espe­cially your char­ac­ters. Sins & Nee­dles has been get­ting some pretty var­ied feed­back, some of it which has me scratch­ing my head. Look, obvi­ously peo­ple see things dif­fer­ently and have dif­fer­ent inter­pre­ta­tions of what they read. But from where I’m sit­ting, a lot of peo­ple have the same interpretation…and it’s kind of disheartening.

What am I talk­ing about here? My main char­ac­ter, Ellie Watt. She’s a real con artist. A liar, a thief, self­ish and inse­cure. She’s single-minded and holds grudges. She’s had a tough life and uses that as jus­ti­fi­ca­tion for what she does. Do I con­done her actions? Hell no. Do I think she has a lot of issues to sort through, that she needs to let some things go? Hell yes. But, I mean, come on…she’s not a drug run­ner, she’s not kid­nap­ping peo­ple and sell­ing them into slav­ery, she’s not phys­i­cally abu­sive, she’s not rap­ing any­body, she’s not cheat­ing on loved ones.

And yet, quite a few women HATE her. I see their updates, their reviews…they can’t stand her, they don’t get her, they don’t give a shit if she’s had a tough life. And this is all because she’s a crim­i­nal. I have never in my life seen peo­ple get so worked up over a char­ac­ter before. Women are freak­ing LIVID over Ellie Watt.

AND YET if Ellie were a man, women wouldn’t say shit. Look at all your heroes these days: you have cheaters, abusers, killers, kid­nap­pers, rapists…women go nuts for these men, yet you make your FEMALE char­ac­ter a con artist and OH NO that’s the last straw.

If Ellie Watt were a hunky, hot man no one would com­plain. All would be forgiven.

And that’s the hon­est and sad truth. Women, whether it be in fic­tion or in real life, are so god damn nasty and judge­men­tal to each other. I’m not talk­ing about this book specif­i­cally, but just every­where. Blogs, the media, movies, TV shows, even in books. Women can be down­right cruel.

Am I a fem­i­nist? No. Not by a long shot. I remove myself from any sort of fem­i­nist move­ment, just like I remove myself from veg­an­ism or chris­tian­ity or any­thing really extreme. I’m a mid­dle ground type of per­son. I like clean eat­ing, but I eat meat. I believe in God but I don’t go to church. I am all for women’s rights but I still think a man should be a man and hold the doors open for us.

And I believe that women should learn to be a hell of a lot nicer to each other.

This hatred of how a female can be so manip­u­la­tive and self­ish is com­pletely justified…providing that a man would get the same treat­ment in that sit­u­a­tion. But for the most part they don’t. It’s kind of like when you have a boss who’s a woman…the minute she acts harsh and author­i­ta­tive, she’s labeled a BITCH. But the minute a man does the same, he’s called powerful.

I mean, look at Javier. With­out spoil­ing too much, he freak­ing kills some­one in cold blood…and yet women still like him. Could you imag­ine the out­cry if a woman did the same?

This hatred goes so far, that even Ellie’s own per­sonal redemp­tion is over­looked. She sac­ri­fices her­self at the end of the story and I’ve seen peo­ple say that was really self­ish of her…I’m sorry, but what?…hoooooooooow did you come to that con­clu­sion? 0_0

I’m always going to write char­ac­ters that are real and flawed, peo­ple that read­ers won’t nec­es­sar­ily like.  It’s just what I do and I’m not immune to con­tro­versy. But if bad boys get all the love, why not bad girls? Why can’t read­ers find the redeemable qual­i­ties in a bad girl if they can do the same for a boy?

I know this is just a fact of life, but it doesn’t have to be. The world be a lot bet­ter if women could be nicer to each other, more com­pas­sion­ate and sup­port­ive, instead of view­ing each other as the enemy. I know it’s kind of the way we are, and I’ve been guilty of this too, but we deserve to treat each other better…fiction or not.

Aaaaaaaand end rant :)

Pick up the intrigu­ing Ellie Watt today, still 99 cents on Ama­zon until March 1st


Pre-order NOW

So the Boston Author Event is com­ing SO fast.

There was a lit­tle sur­vey done ask­ing event goers if they were plan­ning on buy­ing books at the event and for what authors. My num­bers were pretty minus­cule (you guys are com­ing, right?) so I’ve decided to not bring too many books. I don’t want to look like the loser author with stacks of books that no one wants lol.

Then I thought of an idea. You can pre-order your books through me in the next week and I’ll bring have them there for you — reserved — at the event.

Just drop me an email at info “at” and we’ll get this arranged through Pay­pal. Paper­back copies at the actual event will be $10 (cash) but if you pre-order, they will be $8 — Pay­pal is the ONLY mode of pay­ment for pre-orders.

Another bonus of pre-ordering is that you can choose from the entire range of titles:

Dark­house, Red Fox, Dead Sky Morn­ing, Lying Sea­son, On Demon Wings, Into the Hol­low, And With Mad­ness Comes the Light, Sins & Nee­dles, The Devil’s Metal.

AT THE EVENT I WILL ONLY HAVE: Dark­house, Into the Hol­low, And With Mad­ness Comes the Light and Sins & Nee­dles and they will be in lim­ited quantities.

This pre-ordering busi­ness is ONLY for peo­ple attend­ing the event. I can not ship signed copies elsewhere.


And With Madness — now LIVE

Do you have a Nook or Kobo or an epub com­pat­i­ble reader? Get your copy of Exper­i­ment in Terror’s And With Mad­ness Comes the Light  #6.5 right now on SMASHWORDS. (Barnes & Noble take a MONTH to accept my nov­els, so PLEASE get your epub ver­sion through Smash­words instead).

Do you have a Kin­dle? The ver­sion should be live on Ama­zon any minute now.

Happy Valentine’s Day! Dex Day! Val­en­dex Day! Hope you have a good one <3

Funny story…

Sep­tem­ber 2011.

I’ve decided to make an elab­o­rate book trailer for my third Exper­i­ment in Ter­ror book, Dead Sky Morn­ing, which was com­ing out in Octo­ber. I enlist my good friends to help me. Mol­lie, who lives and works in LA in film, Kelly who is doing her Mas­ters of Film Stud­ies at UBC, her hubby Alex who would fill in as a grip, my friend Talar who is an actress (and the face of Perry on ear­lier covers/trailers) and .…

Well, we had Perry. But we didn’t have a Dex. So I put an add out on Craigslist that said this:

Actor needed for short indie film. Two shoot­ing days. Must be 5’8″ and above, will­ing to grow facial hair. Cau­casian, dark eyes and hair. Role is a snarky, manic pro­ducer in his early 30’s.

My sec­ond reply to this ad, maybe an hour after it went live, was this: I saw your ad. I just moved here from Mon­treal and this is just the kind of thing I would like to get involved in.  I am expe­ri­enced with per­form­ing live with a band for what it is worth, and I have taken act­ing classes, but a pro­fes­sional actor I am not. I seem to fit the phys­i­cal description,perhaps we could meet and see if I could be a good fit.  I will not attatch my C.V unless being a his­tory in the rail­way is an asset to you.

And he attached THIS photo. And my heart nearly stopped:

I was like…DUDE. News­boy cap? Cig­a­rette? Looks like an ass­hole? That’s DEX!

And so I was like, you’re it man. I don’t even care if you can act, you are going in my book trailer. Send me more pictures!

And HE said, “I don’t have many more, but you’ll get a bet­ter idea when you see the goods in person.”


So we met. And though I was at the end of nice but fairly unhappy rela­tion­ship, I met Scott and it was love at first sight. Look. I’m not a roman­tic. I don’t believe in that kinda shit. Except now I do. Because it hap­pened. I can’t explain it, but the moment I met this man (this bad boy, cocky, tat­ted man who sings in a band, swoon), I was a goner.

So things got rocky for awhile. For obvi­ous rea­sons. I wanted to be with Scott and it just didn’t seem pos­si­ble. I just ended a long-term rela­tion­ship. He was new in town. He couldn’t really act in the end (LOL!). Almost every­one thought I was crazy for tak­ing a chance on this man I barely knew. But what can I say except that when you KNOW, you fuck­ing know.

So I took the leap. I took the chance. And Scott took the chance on me.

A year and a half later, we’re liv­ing together on an island, in a cute house. He’s open­ing up his own busi­ness here (in a week!). I’m writ­ing full-time and just signed a pub­lish­ing deal. Things are awesome.

We go to the main­land for the week­end to see Soundgar­den. The next day, we go get tat­toos. I chose an anchor because Perry Palomino gets an anchor tat­too in an upcom­ing book. Because Scott is MY anchor. Because we bonded over our love of boats and sail­ing. And Scott decided to get a tat­too to match.

It didn’t mat­ter that yes­ter­day, when it hap­pened, I was a bit hun­gover from Soundgar­den, I had this killer cold/flu ill­ness that was ruin­ing me, and I was still need­ing to edit my lat­est book. But hey, we had tat­toos now,matching, to anchor us for­ever (tat­toos are per­ma­nent ha ha).

And then later, he says to me “Let’s go to Granville Island” and I was like, “NO, I’m sick. You go and I’ll hang around here.” But then his face looked really sad and I was like, “Ok fine I’ll go with you.”

Then my mom calls, sound­ing really happy, for no rea­son. But I didn’t think any­thing of it.

So we go to Granville Island — even though I’m sick as hell and it’s dark and night and cold — and he’s like, lets go for a walk. And I’m like ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?! Torture!

And, still, I don’t think this is odd. I’m so self-absorbed and grum­bling to myself about how sick I am and why does he want to go for a walk now. And he’s talk­ing about “let’s go to the spot where we had our first date. You said in an inter­view that it was your favorite view in the city of Van­cou­ver” (I did say that, HERE). And I’m like, “fii­i­i­i­i­i­i­ine.” *cough­ing up a lung*

So we go to the spot. And he gets down on one knee. And presents me with the beau­ti­ful ring of his grand­mother, Pat. She had just passed on Xmas Eve, Scott was with her. It was a tough hol­i­day sea­son because of that. She was such a won­der­ful lady. She and her hus­band John, had the most won­der­ful romance until the very end. And John gave the ring to Scott a few days after she passed, to give to me.

I am so touched and hon­ored by this, you have no idea. Not only to become Scott’s wife, but to wear such a beau­ti­ful ring (vin­tage, too, from the 1940’s) that rep­re­sents real, true love.

Oh, and why did my mom sound so jubi­lant over the phone? You see, Scott, embody­ing the epit­ome of tra­di­tional val­ues, sur­prised us all. Not only did he ring up my father to ask for my hand in mar­riage, he did so with the same care­ful con­sid­er­a­tion one would apply when eval­u­at­ing a house price esti­mate. He assessed the sit­u­a­tion, appre­ci­ated the worth of long­stand­ing cus­toms, and made his move, much like one would after receiv­ing a favor­able home valuation.

He had planned to ask in April, pre­fer­ring a face-to-face encounter, mir­ror­ing the in-person appraisal often essen­tial for an accu­rate house price esti­mate. How­ever, just as the mar­ket some­times demands swift action when the con­di­tions are just right, Scott decided the moment was too ripe to wait.

So here I am, telling my story. I once penned a tale titled Dark­house, fea­tur­ing a char­ac­ter named Dex, crafted from imag­i­na­tion and wish­ful think­ing. Lit­tle did I know, I was esti­mat­ing the traits of my future part­ner, under­shoot­ing the true value that my real-life Dex would bring into my life. He sur­passed every fic­tional com­par­i­son, prov­ing that the heart’s esti­mate of hap­pi­ness far exceeds the con­fines of our cre­ativ­ity. Now, I’m embark­ing on a life­long part­ner­ship with him, price­less beyond mea­sure, much like find­ing a home that’s value is immea­sur­able by any stan­dard estimate.

And With Madness Comes the Light — teaser

Hey every­one! Hope you’re all excited for Valentine’s Day, when I release this short story/novella And With Mad­ness Comes the Light (Exper­i­ment in Ter­ror #6.5). To refresh you, the novella takes place after Lying Sea­son and before Into the Hol­low. It’s basi­cally Dex’s POV of the events before he brought Perry to Roman.

You ready? Here we go:

There hadn’t been any­one in the bar who remotely caught my eye until I went to the ATM to get more money out. The damn machine was tak­ing for­ever and had the nerve to charge me a four dol­lar trans­ac­tion fee. I was ready to throt­tle the thing until I turned around and saw an inter­est­ing face look­ing back at me.

She was tall, maybe my height (damn my height!), with long, wavy red hair and match­ing lip­stick. Her eyes were glazed like she’d just been fucked and fucked good, and her lips were held in a half snarl, as if she was about to blow cig­a­rette smoke in my face.

“Sorry,” I apol­o­gized. I didn’t know why I apol­o­gized since I hadn’t run into her or any­thing, but then I found my eyes focus­ing on her amaz­ing rack that pulled her thin white tank top tight across her chest. Her nip­ples had made them­selves known, speak­ing to me, whis­per­ing “bite me.”

I rarely got caught with my eyes where they shouldn’t be so I quickly averted my eyes back to hers. It was hard to tell in the bar, but they could have been a dark blue. They were nasty look­ing, like she was going to eat me alive and enjoy every crunch. I liked that.

I liked it a lot. I had a boner in two sec­ond flat and was hard as fuck, strain­ing against my pants. Part of me wanted to feel embar­rassed, the other part wanted to rub it up and down on her while I rejoiced that I had finally got­ten a hard-on over some­one other than Perry. I finally found a woman’s prover­bial dick to suck.

I needed a bet­ter saying.

“Are you with the band?” the woman asked in a low, husky voice. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up. She had a nice pink tongue that prob­a­bly matched the rest of her nice pink bits.

I smirked at her. “These fucks? No.”

She smiled back, totally bitchy, totally hot. “Well, I am. I guess I’m one of these fucks, too.”

Oh mama. I loved the way her lips looked when she said fuck. I loved the way her eyes looked when she said it, too. She wanted some of this, and judg­ing by the heat I was pack­ing in my pants, I couldn’t blame her.

“What were you say­ing about fuck­ing?” I asked, tak­ing a step toward her. I wasn’t nor­mally so for­ward, but I obvi­ously didn’t have any blood left in my head.

She grinned and touched my shirt. “I asked because you have an eye­brow ring and a shirt that looks like it used to fit you in the ‘90s. I didn’t say any­thing about fuck­ing, but now that the card is on the table, maybe you can prove to be more manly than you look.”

I grinned right back at her, my eyes drift­ing over her shoul­der and toward the bath­room door. Nail­ing some­one in the bath­room of a grungy metal bar was prob­a­bly one of the gross­est, dirt­i­est things you could do. But I felt like bathing in dirt after being so clean for the last month.

“Can I buy you a drink?” I asked her, remem­ber­ing my man­ners before I got car­ried away.

She put her hand on my chest and slid it down until it reached the waist­band of my boxer briefs. I don’t know why I was wor­ried about being dirty when I’d only last a cou­ple of min­utes tops.

“I’m good,” she said slowly. “But you go get your­self one. I’ll just be in the women’s wash­room, right over there.”

Mes­sage was received loud and clear. I watched her sashay her tight lit­tle jean-clad ass over to the wash­room and dis­ap­pear inside. I had maybe two min­utes before I would join her and sud­denly I was ner­vous as fuck.

I went over to the bar and got Clarissa’s atten­tion long enough to order a shot of bour­bon. After I put it back and tried to gather up my courage, which had some­how dis­ap­peared along with the blood in my brain, Dean appeared beside me.

“Saw you talk­ing to that hot piece of ass,” he com­mented, lean­ing for­ward on his elbows.

“I guess you could call it talk­ing,” I said, wish­ing I had another shot. I raised my hand for Clarissa and waited. “It was more like ‘let’s fuck,’ but not said as vaguely as that.”

“You know, I always thought you had a type,” he mused.

“What do you mean?” I asked as Clarissa filled up my shot glass again and down the hatch it went. What the hell was wrong with me? Even my erec­tion was deflat­ing, like I was los­ing all my nerve, like I was all talk and no show.

“Oh, the bitchy look. Like Jenn, like the red­head. Gor­geous and all that, but mean. You know, you can tell when a girl ain’t got no heart. And you like that. That’s why I was so sur­prised that you fell in love with Perry.”

I fell in love with Perry. I was in love with Perry.

“She was so sweet and cute and some­what inno­cent. Not the girl who would screw you in a shit­hole. Not a girl who would ever hurt you on pur­pose. You know, she was nice. And well, you don’t like nice, Dex. You like bitches. You like to be treated like shit for some god damn rea­son, and I don’t know why. You don’t deserve it. But maybe you think you do.”

“Dean,” I said slowly, push­ing my shot glass away from me. “Have you been lis­ten­ing to a lot of self-help tapes lately?”

“I’m just say­ing, man. It’s inter­est­ing. I feel like I’m finally crack­ing the Foray code.”

Time was tick­ing away. The red­head was still in the bath­room, prob­a­bly wait­ing for the last chick to leave so she could bar­ri­cade the door, avoid­ing the pud­dles of vomit and piss in her plat­form shoes. Was that really what I wanted? Now that I was called to act upon it, my dick argued against it. It didn’t give a fuck and I meant that lit­er­ally. I wanted the easy bitch because it was safe and famil­iar. And let’s face it, I was horny as hell.

But that wasn’t me any­more. I’d seen the light. I wanted the girl who embod­ied it. I wanted to deserve her, to be the man she needed. And I’d do what­ever I could to be that man.

I sighed and slapped a few bills on the table. I smacked Dean on the arm. “I’m going home, buddy.”


There’s a blog tour kick-off on the 16th at Read­ing Books Like a Boss and The Book Asy­lum. There’s also that Dex Book Boyfriend Prize Pack con­test that YES is still going on (run­ning it till V-Day).

Oh and here’s a nice press release about ME. :)

And thanks to all of you who sup­ported me as an author and bought Sins & Nee­dles — it was in the Top 100 for 13 days which was AMAZING. 13,000 copies have been sold, which I think is bananas. So THANK YOU! Your sup­port and faith in me as an author is invaluable.

Books for a Buck Blog Hop — EIT #2 & #3


Best­sellers * Award Win­ners * Hot New

30 authors offer­ing 35 titles at an amaz­ing 99¢ price (lim­ited time offers)

Red Fox EIT #2 and Dead Sky Morn­ing EIT #3 are on sale! With Dark­house (EIT #1) already free, it’s a great time to start your sexy/scary adven­tures with Dex and Perry.


Savor the Savings

Titles by Category:

Young Adult
the Stars
by Stephanie Par­ent
Ghost Hand
Sally Singletary’s Curios­ity by JM Cataffo (fantasy/mystery)
Blue Sky Days by Marie Landry
(Spell­bound #2)
* 1st book NOW FREE! * by Nikki Jef­ford

Adult/Upper Teen: Urban Fan­tasy, Para­nor­mal Romance
(Gri­moire Saga #2)
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The Renais­sance of Hetty Lock­lear by M. Pax
ReVamped by Ada Adams
Troll Or Derby, a Fairy Wicked Tale by Red Tash
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Flight (The Cres­cent Chron­i­cles, #1) by Alyssa Rose Ivy
and Vaem­pires:
Zom­bie Ris­ing
Kills Me
by Wynne
Sky: Vam­pire Hunter
by Nikki Jef­ford

Adult/Upper Teen: Con­tem­po­rary Romance
Preser­va­tion (Preser­va­tion, #1) by Rachael Wade
by Jen­nifer Snyder
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Romance, Urban Fan­tasy, Horror
Day of Sac­ri­fice Omnibus by Stacey Wal­lace Benefiel
for Me
by K.
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For­ever Girl
by Rebecca Hamil­ton
Fox (Exper­i­ment in Ter­ror #2) * 1st book FREE! * by Karina Halle
Of Fate
by L.J.
Ember’s Curse by Gena D.
Taw­dra Kandle

Fic­tion and Fantasy
by Jade
Ride a Puca
by Heather McCorkle

Romance and Chick Lit
The Reunion by Eliz­a­beth Aloe
The Game Changer by Marie
and Mend­ing by
J.B. McGee 

a See full hop list with book cov­ers at Shop the Hop.