inger

Teaser Tuesday | Excerpt | Indelible: Beneath his Ink

   Poe raised his hands. “Okay, enough of the Jake shit. He’s a bastard and you two need to steer clear of the cokehead. Violet will help y’all out as best as she can. She’s good like that.” She bashfully dipped her head at the compliment. Poe stood, pointing to the firework display. “And now, for some circa 2011 non-legal fireworks.”

    Teal’s gaze flew to Violet. “Huh?”

    “In Kentucky, only certain fireworks are legal. Poe here has bought ones that aren’t.” Trent leisurely made his way over to Teal and helped her up from the table.

    “In Vermont, all you need is a permit and you can have all the fun you want.” She threaded her fingers through Trent’s as he led her further into the darker part of the yard.

Poe had set everything up at a safe distance, and Trent had lined up some lawn chairs for the show. Teal made to sit down in one of the three; instead, Trent pulled her back up and sat. Patting his lap, he motioned for her to sit.

Teal complied and wrapped an arm around his neck as she adjusted herself comfortably on him. The stubble of his jaw rasped over her neck as he tenderly kissed her, his warm tongue making its way up her neck until Teal felt the sharp pain of his teeth on her earlobe. She gasped when his hand slipped under her shirt, his calloused hands slipping beneath the cup of her bra to tweak a nipple. Shrouded in darkness, Trent caressed Teal’s breast and tasted her skin, as Violet and Poe made adjustments to the fireworks.

Trent’s ridged cock hardened beneath her, and Teal squirmed atop his lap, listening, as his breaths grew harsher. “You’re gonna make me come in my pants. Is that what you want?” he said, as he tweaked a nipple so hard, Teal squeaked.

His hands and mouth made a hasty retreat as the couple made their way back to them. 

    Teal glanced around just as the first explosion rocked into the night and set the darkness around them ablaze. Trent stole her attention from the fireworks as he gently took her chin between his thumb and finger to gently turn it to meet his eyes. His loving gaze took in her face, eyes roving over every inch of it. His thumb moved softly back and forth across her cheek causing warmth to spread with his touch. She watched, mesmerized as lights sporadically lit up his beautiful rough-hewn face revealing the awe and longing in his eyes.

Most women searched years for such dedication and love, and no man had ever looked at her that way—until Trent. She'd once told him that he was not what he seemed, and she’d been right. However, she was wrong on her assumption of the man in front of her. For how resilient and steadfast this man seemed, his heart was full of love, and Teal was lucky to have even a fraction of it. 

   Trent leaned in again. “I need to be in you.” He thrust against her, punctuating each word.

  Teal giggled.“I know, but you need to stop.” Trying to push his hands away, Teal fought in vain. “Trent.” She took on a semi-serious voice. “They’ll see. Cut it out.”

    He stopped and peeked over her shoulder. “Baby, look.” He nodded and she glanced over her shoulder to see that she and Trent weren’t the only two taking advantage of the darkness. While she couldn’t see much, the firework display intermittently lit up the passionate view of Violet and Poe stealing kisses.     Teal turned and righted herself in Trent’s lap. “You are such a bad influence.” She moved provocatively in his lap, his gruff grunting a good indication she was rubbing him in all the right places. 

Confessions in the Dark Teaser

 
17 and up due to adult situations and language
 

            It took everything in Ophelia not to apologize to the hard-headed jerk who’d thought to leave her while he fought her battle. And to make it worse? He now sat in front of her with shredded, yet mending lips and bloody teeth, looking like he wanted to kiss her.

            “No!” She shouted aloud to all of the things her body was craving. His smile widened and she nearly moaned when the tip of a blood-coated fang peeked through his lips. Gathering her wits and beating her hormones back with a stick, Ophelia jumped to her feet. “No!”

His smile disappeared as his lips mended. “Look—”

            “No, and I mean it. I am coming with you.” She moved toward the mouth of the cave and Irish dove for her, grabbing her hand and yanking her back. When she fell into his chest, she thrust out her elbow and jabbed him in the ribs. His rasping breath and his warm body pressed against her, almost made her forget she was fighting to get away—almost. She stomped her foot down, then adjusted her stance to knee him in the balls.

Rethinking this tactic, Irish used her moment of indecision and kicked his feet out, knocking her off balance. She fell to the ground face down, and Irish fell with her. He caught himself just in time and then grabbed her hands holding her tightly against the cool cave floor with his heavy body.

            “Get off me!” She rasped, struggling against his hold.

            “Ophelia,” his voice was a deep growl, “stop.”

She fought harder. Fuck that, she was pissed! How dare he hold her down. Feeling his long, thick legs straddled to either side and his muscular arms threaded around her, heat bloomed in her chest. Anger and arousal warred deep in her belly. Not thinking of that now. She thrashed against him.

            Irish grunted and then let out a groan she’d never heard from a man. “Ophelia,” his voice strained, “please stop moving.” Heavy pants sounded above her.

            “Let me go.” She said, plotting. This time, she would not hesitate . . . only his heat felt so damned good, his warm arms holding her just enough to stop her from freeing herself. She nearly complied.

            “I want to let you go, but I’m not chasing your ass out of this cave. Promise me you’ll behave,” he demanded.

Ophelia would not be told what to do when she was being held down against her will. She bucked hard, until a pleasured groan passed his lips. Never had she made a man sound like that. Screams, howls, and pleas for mercy? Yes. But never such a breathy groan. Still, her anger boiled deeper. She wouldn’t give in, not on this matter. She couldn’t. “You will not command me!”

In her struggle to move out from underneath him, her soft bottom nudged something long and hard. She stilled a moment, before giving another wriggle to test his reaction. Instead of holding her tighter or fighting back, he gently pressed into her.

            His body was so hot, it seared her to her very soul. He gently released one arm and moved his grip to her hip. “Please behave, so I can let you up. I can’t stay like this any longer.” He swallowed hard between shallow breaths.

            “No.” Ophelia wanted to go with him on the mission, but her answer was directed at the fact that he wanted to remove his body from atop hers. Making one last effort to get out of this situation, she bucked up and scooted out of his grasp.

Irish came up on all fours, but kept his head held low, taking deep calming breaths.

            “What’s wrong with you?” she asked.

            He looked up at her sharply, heat blazing in his eyes. “What do you think? You did that on purpose.”

            Her eyes moved down to the large bulge in his pants. “Huh? You tackled me. Not the other way around.” She let out an indignant huff and crossed her arms over her chest.

            He released a bark of laughter. “And you sure showed me, didn’t you? Rubbing against me like a puppy in heat!” He stood and adjusted himself.

            Her face flamed and the word puppy slapped her in the face like a sledge hammer. “How was I supposed to know that you—that you,” she gestured to his pants, “enjoy holding women down against their will?”

            A look of outrage colored his face. “Are you insane, lass? Donnae be lookin’ at me, when I’m only trying to stop you from running off alone, to get killed or bred,” he said with extra emphasis. “You are the one rubbing on me like an animal in heat. What did you think was going to happen?”

She stared at him for a moment. Why did he keep comparing her to an animal? “I—I’m sorry, I just wanted to get away!” She threw her hands up and screamed. “Why am I apologizing?”

            “Because, lassie,” his voice lowered and his eyes narrowed. “You just took advantage of me!” Even as he said it in his thick brogue, she saw a glint of humor in his eyes and an impish grin playing on his lips.

            Her indignant huff echoed off the walls. “Oh, come on.” She jabbed a finger out at him. “I did not, you did!” She sounded immature, but there was nothing to be done about it.

            “And what do you suppose happens when a woman with a luscious ass rubs it up and down a man’s cock?” His voice was low and soft like a purr.

Her face heated even more and she swallowed hard. It had not been her intention, but when she’d realized what she’d done, she didn’t move to stop. “That is no way to talk to a queen.”

            He scoffed. “Nor is it anyway for her royal highness to act either, now is it? Pushing against me cock like that . . .”

“I’m a virgin!” Ophelia blurted, wanting to die of embarrassment when he scrambled back, looking disgusted. All of the blood in her body rushed to her face, leaving it redder than she was sure it had ever been.

Her mind scrambled to fix the situation. “I—I have to be. To protect the throne from heirs who weren’t born from me and the wolf I am promised to.” Her word vomit kept flowing. “I’ve never even been kissed.” She clapped a hand over her mouth. Closing her eyes, she endured a long silence.

            He finally cleared his throat. “That was a wee bit awkward, no?”

Her lids popped open and a bit of her mortification deflated when she saw the affable smile on his face. “Can I fight with you and the others?”

His silence had her feeling twitchy and ready to run, but instead of the adamant no she was expecting he said, “I’ll play ye for it, lass.”

            She smiled. “Ten lashings, and counting.”

He winked and pointed to a tree one hundred yards in the distance. Pulling a small knife from his sleeve, Irish threw it at the tree. “Best three out of four.” He looked over his shoulder, a roguish grin on his lips. “I win, and you go to the ship. You win, and you can tag along. Game?”

Little did he know she was one of the best knife throwers in her pack. She sauntered over and held her hand out. He handed her a knife and she turned and got in her throwing stance. “If you win,” she eyed the tree, “I go to the boat like a good little princess.” She did a practice throw without releasing the knife.

            “And if you win?” His voice was close behind her and the heat of his body nearly stole her concentration.

            “If I win, I not only go with you on the mission, but you teach me how to kiss, here and now.” She threw the knife, loving the sound it made as it whistled through the air, hitting Irish’s knife, and knocking it from the tree.

***

            “Where in the hell did you learn to throw knives?” Irish asked, counting her knives in the tree. She’d made all of her throws and to add insult to injury, she landed each of her knives on top of his, except one—the one he’d missed.

He’d actually lost the wager.

            She sat down close to the mouth of the cave and looked to him. “A race nearly extinct, remember? When you are in hiding, you learn how to protect yourself. Plus, there wasn’t much else to do.”

Her words sobered him up a bit. He was still amazed at her ability, but he felt like hell for the reason she’d ever needed to learn in the first place. Her kind was hunted and killed off by his kind in the past.

“Now,” she looked up at him, “you’ll teach me to kiss.”

            “I—uh . . .” He scratched his head and backed away.

            “You, uh . . . promised.” Her eyes narrowed. “Is that the kind of man you are? One who reneges on a deal?”

He hadn’t thought she’d win the bet. Crossing his arms over the expanse of his chest, he huffed. “Why do you need to learn now?” He gestured around. “Here of all places?” Maybe he could stall. Just the thought of his lips on hers had him ready to explode in his pants. But she was firmly on the Hands Off Irish list. The first reason being, she was promised to another man. The second reason being, she was untouched.

            “Why not now? There’s nothing else to do but wait.”

He took a deep breath and wondered if it made him a bastard to want to be the man who taught her to kiss. There was something erotic about kissing. Irish had to banish that idea from his head because there was no damned way he was teaching her to kiss. “You should be preparing for what’s to come.”

            Her blonde brow arched. “If that knife competition didn’t convince you I’m capable of taking care of myself, then maybe you forgot when you first saw me on the isle, when I had just gutted a man from his privates to his neck.” She raised her chin, daring him to say anything.

            “Lesson one: If you want a man to kiss you, you don’t talk about slicing anyone’s balls.” She nodded emphatically and he didn’t have the heart to tell her he was only kidding. He pushed off the wall, strode over, and sat down in front of her.

She was biting her lips—most likely a nervous gesture—and while he found it endearing, he reached up and pulled the puffy lip from between her teeth.

            “Lesson two: Don’t damage the goods.” He smiled when she blushed. “Come here,” he whispered and she obliged. “Will you sit on my lap?” For him, the best part of a kiss was the intimacy it offered. Having her close would increase the heat of her body against his.

Irish needed to cool down his libido, reminding himself, this is just a lesson. It would go no further than a kiss.

She nodded and settled in his lap.

“Okay, here we go.” He’d never had to instruct a kiss, figuring that kissing was something so natural, the two people would find a rhythm all their own. So, he’d try it that way. He leaned in and her eyes went wide. Pulling back, he asked, “What’s wrong?”

            “I thought you were going to teach me.” In the waning sunlight, her eyes sparkled and her pink cheeks flamed.

He smiled. “Kissing is natural. I can’t really instruct you through the mechanics because my mouth is going to be on yours. I want you to place your lips on mine, then follow my movements. Do what comes naturally to you. If you want to stop, just pull away.” When she nodded her understanding, he leaned in part way, waiting for her to lean in as well.

            The first soft touch of her lips rocketed him out of his body. He slanted his head and applied more pressure, and like he thought, her natural reaction was to slant her head in the opposite direction. With a smooth motion, Irish pushed his tongue past the barrier of her lips. She gave a small gasp in surprise, but quickly copied his movements.

Her hand came up and nails scored his scalp, causing him to delve deeper. His fangs extended, scraping over her tongue, drawing a small bead of blood. He sucked on the tip of her tongue and she moaned so loud, it reverberated off the cave walls. Irish realized his hesitance to teach her had not come from anything other than his fear of losing control. Because he wanted more than a simple kiss.

Ophelia’s hands moved to his shoulders, holding him in a vice grip. Her body, hot against his, moved of its own accord. Soon, she moved her legs to straddle his waist, and he could scent her arousal. Irish was primed and ready, grabbing onto her ass to hold her firmly on his lap. It was then, an unwarranted thought blasted into his mind. Ophelia was to be queen, and when she hit that throne, she needed to be a virgin.

That thought sobered him up real quick. He pulled away. “Lesson over.” Grunting, he gently moved her off his lap.

            “Wait, why?” She stood with him. “Was it wrong?” He felt her hand on his shoulder.

            “No, it was all right—too right.” He moved to the mouth of the cave. “We need to head out. The sun is low and we can get there in time to meet the boat.” He didn’t look back at her. Yes, he was an ass for pushing her away without explanation, but hell, if he got hard again with no sort of release, his balls would explode in his pants.

When he did turn, she was removing the shirt he’d given her to wear. “What are you doing?” he asked in a panicked voice.

            She eyed him for a moment then frowned. “I’m going to shift. I’ll move faster this way, and my senses will be sharper. Plus, you said I could go to the compound with you and I am better when I’m in wolf form.” Her words were sharp and her tone was clipped.

Good, he needed her to forget the kiss and focus on the task at hand. He turned just as she pulled that tattered dress up and over her lithe body. “Do you—uh—remember the plan?” he asked. At her silence, he turned to find a large wolf with silky fur the same hue as a stormy night’s sky and an endearing little patch of pure white fur under her jaw. “Damn,” he whispered.

Moving forward, he reached out to the wolf. He’d seen her as a wolf before, but each time was as amazing as the first. She nuzzled his hand when he pet her. “I won’t be able to understand you, but I know you can hear me.” He knelt down in front of her. “If anything happens to me, or if shit hits the fan, run.” She gnashed her teeth and shook her head. “Hey,” he reached up and caressed her soft fur, “for me, please. Your people will need you to lead them back to the coast.”

He couldn’t go off into this mission worrying about her, but as he stood and headed out into the night, he knew some of them weren’t making it home. He could only pray it didn’t include Ophelia.

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#TBT to Immortal Heart: Few Are Angels Prequel

I can no longer deny you what you desire, but it will be the last gift that I can give you.
— Hélène

She squeezed his hand, but Kale was still too shocked, still confused. He’d believed that she wouldn’t know him. Wasn’t that how it worked? Souls didn’t carry the memories of their past lives to their new inhabitants.

Hélène leaned against Kale, placing her nose into the crook of his neck and inhaling deeply. “You smell the same, yet so different.” She moved away a bit, leaving an inch between them. “It’s hot as the dickens out here, yet you still carry the scent of fresh snow on a winter’s night.” Lifting herself onto her tiptoes, she placed a small kiss on his lips.

“I’ve missed you so much.” Her warm breath caressed his face as she embraced him.

Kale could do nothing but give in. He placed his arms around her and squeezed. She gasped. Unsure if he’d squeezed too hard, he started to release her.

“No! Hold me one last time,” she begged, and he heard tears in her voice.

“Oh, Hélène. Don’t say that; please don’t say that.” Kale pulled her more tightly in his embrace. He didn’t care if she couldn’t breathe—he wanted to feel her, taste her, and hold her.

He refused to believe that he’d never have a chance to do it after this. His last memory was of falling asleep in the snow only a few feet from her home, but he wouldn’t believe that this was a dream. It felt too real.

Hélène’s warm body responded to his touches, and her lips melded with his as he kissed her. Kale wouldn’t allow reality to steal the sweet taste of her lips against his, the feel of her delicate fingers as they combed through his hair, the allure of her pulse as it beat faster.

He deepened the kiss. She was his. He’d died for her, and his rebirth had been for her—only her. How could he let her go? How did he continue to live without her now?

She pulled away, breathless, but Kale couldn’t let her escape. He’d breathe for her if he could, but his lips belonged nowhere but on hers. His hands had no home but on her skin. She’d stolen his heart and now that she was there, he could feel the rhythmic thump in his chest that signaled that he was alive.

He’d waited for this moment, and he would not be denied. He pulled at her shirt and pushed it up until his hands made contact with her bare skin. She moaned against his lips. Her skin burned his in the most decadent way. She felt so good that Kale thought he’d weep. He’d share the tears he’d held all this time.

She pulled away again and smiled as she gulped in puffs of air. “I never thought this moment would come.”

Though her face was Ella’s, he could see Hélène so very clearly in her eyes.

“She needs you,” Hélène whispered. Her lips were so moist and plump from his kisses that he couldn’t take his eyes off of them.

“Someone else will save her. I just want you now here, please.” Kale wasn’t sure what he was asking for. All he knew was that he didn’t want to wake from this dream. If he did, then it would truly be the end of his life.

“I’m safe where I am, but she needs you.”

“No. I live for no one but you, Hélène. Leave me again, and I will surely die.” Kale had begged only once in his life, and that had been for Hélène’s life to be spared, the night she’d died.

He fell to his knees. The sharp pain sent shocks up his spine, and the tears flowed down his cheeks as he stared up at the unfamiliar face with the hauntingly familiar eyes. He held back the sob that threatened to leave his throat. She reached for him and stroked his cheek, traced his lips, and wiped his tears.

“Love, I am gone. I have been for so long and it’s time—”

Kale launched to his feet, grabbing her shoulders. “Never!” He bellowed so loudly, it surprised even him. She had to understand the torture her absence had put him through.

No more was he the strong man who could bottle up his emotions and hide them. His heart constricted in his chest, and his vision blurred. “Please tell me that you will stay, Hélène! Do not leave me again. I won’t survive it, not this time.”

He sobbed no longer playing the part of her savior, but playing the part of a lover begging for another chance, a man who would claw out his heart and hand it to her if it made her understand. He held on to her as if she were his last lifeline—because in a way, she was.

His last hope for happiness, sanity, and love had been rolled up and placed into the stranger in front of him.

Light glittered around them, and Kale glanced about. The scene changed from the college campus to the middle of winter-burdened woods. The moon was white and high in the sky, casting shadows over her face.

Kale knew the site. The cemetery where he had been sleeping sat not far from them. “Hélène, what is this?”

“She needs you,” she whispered again.

He moved towards her. “Please, I live only for you Hélène. Please do not make me go to her.”

“I can no longer deny you what you desire, but it will be the last gift that I can give you.” Allowing him to see her true face, she left the shadows. “I’m here, Kale. One last time, I am here for you.”

Kale reached her faster than he’d ever moved in his life.

It was her. Her face, her lips, her eyes—Hélène.

She stood in front of him in the same dress she’d worn the night of her death. Kale grabbed for her, not caring if he was too rough. He pulled her against him and kissed her. He’d vowed that he would die before he allowed another woman to own his heart as she had, and here she was, begging him to go to another, to save her and to ultimately love her.

Kale wouldn’t. He would show her tonight that it was always her. He’d live the rest of his lonely miserable existence alone, if it would prove to her that that there could never be another.

Could she see him from the heavens? Did she see how he suffered?

Kale eased her onto the ground. The snow around them nipped at his skin, and he wondered if she was cold. Before he could ask, she wrapped her arms around him and deepened their kiss.

If this were a dream, then the cold would not affect her. If this were a dream, then Kale prayed to whatever deity or holy man there was that he never woke up.

Still worried about her being cold, he removed his lips from hers and looked around. Using his Chorý strength and speed, Kale ran to the cemetery that was only a few feet away and tore the mausoleum door away. He fetched Hélène and placed her gently on the ground inside the mausoleum. No more snow.

Soft and sensual words floated between them as they gently kissed and touched each other. Kale, memorizing every inch of her with his hands, gently slid between her legs. He couldn’t look away from her eyes. He was lost drowning in them, and his lungs that never needed air before begged him to take a breath, but he didn’t dare.

He’d die here tonight, here with Hélène in a cemetery where he’d long belonged. He’d been walking through the world soulless, and now here it was beneath him—his soul and heart.

“I belong to you,” he told her, meaning every word. “My soul, my heart—everything that I am, and everything that I could ever be.”

Hélène placed a finger over his lips. “I love you and I give you this because I have nothing else to give, Kale. If I did, I would give it to you, but I can’t. I’m—”

Kale refused to let her finish her sentence, making his lips crash down on hers. Not tonight—he wouldn’t allow her to admit her death to him tonight. He’d seen it; no reminders were needed.

He kissed away the words that would separate them—kissed away reality, the pain and suffering, the tears she’d shed for him, and the tears he would surely shed for her.

In the stages of mourning, he was at “bargaining,” and he’d trade his life again to have her back, body and soul.

Kale removed his shirt and closed his eyes while Hélène put her hands on his stomach. He kissed her as he removed his pants, pushing them past his knees and kicking them from his ankles. He slid a gentle hand up her thigh and to her panties. He hooked his thumb in the waistband and pulled them down past her thighs, knees, and over her feet.

He faced her again. “Don’t leave me,” he whispered. He could do nothing but beg and pled. He hadn’t felt so defenseless since the night Laurent had stolen Hélène from him.

“Promise me,” he quietly demanded, pleading with his eyes, hoping that the sorrow and pain would convince her that he could not breathe without her. He cupped her face in one palm and used his other hand to pull her dress from her body.

“Kale.” Her voice was steady and calm, as if they would share a million more nights like that one, while his heart knew the truth: She was leaving him, forever. They both lay there, each staring at the other.

Kale saw in her eyes the freedom that he’d been searching for and was certain that when he woke his humanity would be gone again. His heart would no longer beat, he’d no longer need to breathe, and she would truly be gone. He steadied himself above her.

Kale knew she had an answer for his question before it even left his lips. “How will I live without you?”

She smiled. “You won’t. Your soul will always find me.”

She lifted her head and kissed him. Wrapping her arms around him, she pulled him closer to help him complete their connection.

Kale gasped as every bit of air escaped his lungs. Convinced that nothing in his lifetime or the next would ever feel so good, he gave himself to her and the moment.

He’d give Hélène whatever she asked for—and when the dream was over, he’d save Ella from whatever plight she’d found herself in, and then he’d go away. He’d shut himself away from the world and dream of the love he’d lost.

Running in the Dark | $25 Amazon Giftcard Giveaway!

In celebration of the Running in the Dark release, I've decided to giveaway a $25 gift card from Amazon! Very easy entries!! Enjoy! <3 

 AMAZON | BN | iTUNES | KOBO | SCRIBD | GOOGLE PLAY

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Running in the Dark | Soundtrack

I used to say music was sort of like a white noise while writing, but it has become so much more than  noise. For me, music has become a beacon in the night. When I am lost, music guides me home. If I am scared, music reminds me of my strengths. And most of all, when I feel uninspired, music becomes my muse.

ps: #5 is my absolute favorite!

Here is a list of songs I listened to on repeat while crafting Trace and Bessina's world in Running in the Dark. There are many more, but I thought I'd share these with you.

 

1. Odesza

Bloom

2. Banks

Waiting Game

3. Rachel Taylor 

Light a Fire

4. Noosa

Halo

5. J2 & Blu Holliday

I Will Survive

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Novel Illustration of Ella from Few Are Angels

Okay, so this year at UtopYacon I met an amazing young woman named, Monique. Now, she is this talented sweetheart of a girl who handed me a card with a beautiful illustration on it. I thought it was a stock photo that she'd downloaded, but NO, she'd drawn the picture herself. I was AMAZED. So, we got to talking about what she did on her YouTube channel and I was like, "Uh, yeah. Here's a FREE book and I am so in!! Months later (she ended up booked because she is that good) she emailed me and sent  me the drawing of Ella. 

War is raging between the Immortals and the Dark Prince’s army of half-breed vampires — and gifted Ella finds herself at the center. Can renegade half-breed vampire Kale keep her safe as their forbidden love awakens? After a fatal hit and run accident, Ella Monroe fears that she’s lost more than her beloved parents. Horrifying visions of a past life and a disturbing voice in her head have psychiatric professionals convinced that she’s lost her sanity as well. But when Kale--a dark and handsome stranger with a mysterious past--reveals the true meaning of her visions and the tremendous power she wields through them, Ella must come to terms with the devastating truths of her own past, while eluding an ancient Dark Prince who seeks to control not only her future, but all of mankind’s, by means of abilities that Ella is only beginning to understand. This paranormal romance told from the heroine’s perspective builds in intensity and intrigue to a finale you won’t see coming. Heart pounding action mixed with heartwarming friendships and heartbreaking romance will leave you breathless and begging for more.


Inevitable: Love & War Cover Reveal

Inevitable

A Love and War 

I crashed and opened my eyes . . . there you were, fierce and protective, and I knew . . . I just knew it was you all along.

Ex-Marine Trent Reed has been shot at, in a coma, and placed in war zones, but when his best friend calls in a favor, he is faced with the most dangerous situation yet—to be the best man. Trent’s turbulent past with races other than his own taints his view on the interracial marriage, and he’s none too happy to deal with the ill-tempered maid of honor. To accept the position means understanding that his friend is soon to be out of his life—for good.

Tough-girl Teal Lofton has struggled all of her adult life, from her weight to the color of her skin holding her back in work and love. When she agrees to be the maid of honor in her friend’s wedding, a hormonal bride and a jerk of a best man who she is strangely, yet wildly, attracted to, amplify those struggles. As tensions and tempers rise, Trent disappears with the wedding rings and Teal braves a snowstorm to bring them back, determined to fix yet another problem. But a tragic accident brings together the unlikely pair, forcing them to face the prejudices of their pasts. In doing so, Trent and Teal embark on an inevitable course of self-discovery and passion like they’ve never experienced before—until a secret from Trent’s past threatens to destroy it all.

Are hardcovers worth the cost for indie authors?

*Just a heads up. I wrote this at 8 am EST after NO sleep. If you see mistakes, I'm sorry and sleepy*

As the indie world picks up steam, so do the platforms that allow indies to create! From Amazon's preorders to Nook offering POD hardbacks. I was excited about the latter until I researched the costs that come along with it. 

I guess some would think it would be a novelty to own a hardback of their book and I agree, but I also want to sell hardbacks to readers who want them.

So, I guess I am asking readers to decide if it is worth it or not. I'm going to be really upfront here about the cost of self-publishing and I am going to give you REAL prices so that you can see what it would cost you to have a hardback from me and why.

I don't know and I don't care how much other authors pay for their covers and formatting. LOL. I am basing these number off of what it costs ME to publish a hardcover. Other authors will have varying numbers.

What does it cost me to order the book and have it mailed to me? 

I'll start with showing you the cost of ordering a book that I have already published.

This is for: 

FEW ARE ANGELS

6'9

233 pages

Cream Paper

Hardcover with dust jacket

Okay, so you can see the reader's cost for the book will already be $20.90 - $1.18 = $19.72

I don't charge tax, so that comes out of what I make. I charge a flat rate for shipping on my site of 3.99 even though it costs me more than that to ship a 6'9 book. ($5.25). So for the reader's the cost comes to $19.72 + 3.99 = $22.71 Then, I add what I am going to make per sale: $5 making the reader's cost $27.71. I picked up the tax, so I'll only make: $3.82 and the I pick up the rest of the shipping and I make: $2.02. :) 

However, I can't sell these on Amazon, Nook is NOT set up that way. So you'd have to order them from me off my site.

But, if I were to have to get my cover reformatted and my book interior reformatted, I'll have to charge more for the book. :/ 

There is a HUGE difference between Nook and Lulu. The biggest being that you can sell your hardcover on Amazon as well. Last year, when I checked with Amazon about listing a hardcover, they told me I would have to pay $99 per book!! So, I opted out of that, but I have heard that there is no longer a price tag on listing hardbacks. I don't know if that is true or not. 

Here the cost of the book is $22.30, so the cost to the reader here is $22.30 + 3.99 = $26.29

Then, I add $5 making it: $31.29 subtract about a buck from what I make for covering a buck in shipping. $30.29

It sucks, the reader pays for shipping twice. I hate that, but I can't figure out a more affordable way to make this work.

I think it is more expensive with Lulu, because of the options you have with other sellers. Also, when creating a hardcover with a dust jacket on Lulu, you have MANY more options to help make your novel beautiful. After all, you are paying for the cover as well as what is inside. 

However, if you were to buy this novel from Amazon via Lulu, it would cost you an arm and a leg! LOL. Really, in order for me to make...Oh, hell. I'll just show you.:

In order for me to make $1.60 when selling on Amazon, I'd have to price my book at 33.32 and that does not include what Amazon will charge you for shipping, :/

Authors:

OPTIONS ARE A BIT LIMITED WITH NOOK. That's to be expected since this is a new feature with them. So, I didn't have as many choices to make my novel stand out.

All in all, I don't think I will list a hardback on Amazon or even sell them unless they are requested. If you have any suggestions  or opinions, let me know!! I'd like to know what you think about hardcover pricing!

Snickers...Naughty Bits!

We all love a steamy scene in a romance novel, right? I know I do, but have you ever wondered how an author creates that scene? Well, I do… I did until I wrote one for Running in the Dark! After writing a love scene for Immortal Heart last year, I wondered if it was steamy enough, but I didn’t have the guts to ask anyone. After reading a couple reviews, I learned that even though it wasn’t a super steamy scene, I had captured the beauty of the scene. Another reviewer said that I needed to have a career as a Romance Author because I had a way with romance. To that I say, “Thank you!”

Honestly, I think my real question is, “Am I the only author who giggles like a school girl when writing a love scene?” I mean really. I couldn't stop freaking giggling. At first, it was funny, but then it was just annoying. I mean, I am a thirty-one-year-old woman, so why do I blush like Catholic school girl at the mention of a man’s private parts. Yeah, I know, I should be able to type it out! If you were here with me as I type this you’d hear the giggling!

So how did I write my scene? Well, I got a glass of wine, sat down and opened my laptop. I stared at the screen for about an hour. I was so lost! I wasn’t sure where to start. I knew what I wanted my characters to do, but how did I want them to feel as well? If there was to be fallout, how would they deal with it? Then I realized that I was making these two scenes much more complicated than I needed them to be. So, I sat down with my glass of wine and created.

Reading Circle #1

Twitter-Incarcerated.jpg

Welcome to Reading Circle with Inger Iversen. So, this is an older post but I am bringing it to my new sire because I'd like to add other authors to the Reading Circle as well. Here is a bit of Incarcerated read by me, the author! Enjoy!

 


     One of the few white kids in a rural Kentucky town, Logan Whyte always kept to his own kind out of self-preservation. He never considered himself racist, but that didn’t stop him from falling in with the wrong crowd that celebrated hate as much as he fought it - or from ending up in prison for eight years on an armed robbery charge.

     A successful and educated black woman, Katie Andreassen is tired of being accused of betraying her own race. Her lonely isolation, coupled with her grief over losing her mother, inspire her to create a new pen pal program at Capshaw State Penitentiary, where her father is a warden.

     The program brings together the unlikely pair, but Logan and Katie soon find themselves forced to overcome past fears and prejudices. Their friendship doesn’t come easily - threatened by a crooked lawyer with a grudge and a best friend who betrays her promise to help.

When faced with a world that forces them apart, Logan and Katie must show everyone else what they have discovered: that love is, in fact, colorblind.