Can You Vague That Up For Me?

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Flash Fiction #68 – Call Me Crazy

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This month’s flash fiction song is one I’d never heard before this challenge. It’s called “Call Me Crazy” by Travis Collins. The video is here and the lyrics are here if you’d like to give a listen/read.

Content warning: some violence and allusions to abuse. 

The dirt was clay. She fucking hated digging into clay. It was wet and cold and almost slimy. It sucked at her shovel, stuck into the treads of her too-big, borrowed boots, and made it difficult to get any real power behind the tool, but she’d manage.

Despite the damp chill of the October evening, she was starting to break a bit of a sweat, but that’s what digging a three foot deep hole would do to a person. Dusk settled like an old musty blanket, muting the changing leaves, and dulling the sky. Soon, the only light would be the running lights on his truck.

He’d be pissed if he knew she was letting it run with the doors open so she could hear the music while she worked. Of course, it was so old, it didn’t even have a cassette deck. And it was stuck on that fucking country music station. But, it was better than the eerie near-silence of the rapidly approaching winter–nothing but small animals rustling through the dried grasses and the honking geese up and leaving this desolate place, flying to warmer climes. She’d always wished she could do the same. But, maybe now, she wouldn’t need to.

She straightened as she surveyed the hole. It was finally deep enough. A shiver snaked down her spine as the chorus of one of his favorite songs drifted to her from tinny-sounding speakers. An audio ghost haunting her from a lifetime past. She pushed through the chill. Maybe it was appropriate this song was playing tonight. Though, it was more of a eulogy than he deserved.

Planting the shovel in the mounded clay, she walked to the back of the truck and dropped the pickup’s gate. Thankfully, the tarp-wrapped body hadn’t moved much on the drive out here. Rolling it to the edge, she dragged the deadweight over her shoulder, and hoisted it in a fireman’s carry. Bastard was heavier than she would have thought, but she’d gotten him this far, she could move him a few more yards.

A muffled groan startled her, and she nearly dropped him, but she kept going until she could fling him into the hole. There was a sickening crack as he hit the bottom, then nothing but the tail end of his favorite song and her harsh breath. She filled in the hole then drove over it, repeatedly, for good measure before shifting the fallen tree to cover the signs of disturbed earth. The same one she’d moved to dig the hole in the first place.

Sure, someone might find him someday. If they cared enough to look. But they’d also find the evidence of everything he’d ever done to her–every photograph, every video tape–all sitting in the middle of his kitchen table. Along with his muddy boots on the mat by the door and his truck parked in the driveway.

And she’d be gone. Long gone where the ghosts of the past had been laid to rest.

Okay, that’s it for me this week. Be sure you check out the other stories by clicking on each blogger’s name. 

Jess * Siobhan * Gwen * Kris * Deelylah

Promptly Penned: Glass Balls

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Prompt: While cleaning the attic, he/she finds a box of glass balls with names on them. One drops and as it shatters, a person appears.

 

Fuck my life. 

Emily looked around at the mountains of boxes, trunks and bags in the attic. This was not how she’d envisioned her mid-term break. When she’d agreed to stay on campus to assist the chair of the anthropology department, she never imagined it would involve cleaning out what was apparently a hoarder’s paradise in the woman’s attic. Yet, here she was…not only cleaning a hoarder’s paradise, but organizing and cataloging it, too.

To be fair, she’d accomplished a lot in the last four days. She’d collected all the random piles of books laying around and boxed and labeled them by subject. She’d organized a collection of tribal masks and another of elaborate early 20th century hats, She was still adding to the pile of medieval-looking weapons she’d leaned against the wall in the far corner of the room, and all the loose papers were just getting tossed in a box. Someone else could deal with that nightmare. But there was actually a decent amount of floor space now.

Setting aside a stack of crumbling newspapers, she found an old hatbox. Lifting it to place it near the other headwear, she heard clinking inside. Setting the box on one of the many tables in the attic, she lifted the lid. Inside, were tinted glass balls in a variety of colors. As she peered closer, she realized there was lettering etched on each one.

The green one read: Bruce Banner. A rose-colored orb was inscribed with the name, Elizabeth Bennet. The red with Hannibal Lecter. And the purple with Willy Wonka.

What the actual hell was this?

She carefully moved aside the ones she’d read to see what inscribed on the others. Éponine Garrod encircled a rust-colored ball, and Sherlock Holmes, the blue. Bella Swan was written on a clear one and Diana Prince on the gold.

Emily pulled out the gray ball and snorted as she turned it over. Christian Grey.

The clanging sound of metal hitting wood startled her, and she dropped the orb, the glass shattering at her feet. Heart in her throat, she whirled toward the clanging noise. One of the swords had fallen from where she’d propped it against the wall.

She turned back to what was left of the orb in time to see gray fog swirling and coalescing into the figure of a man wearing what she guessed was a pricy suit with a gray tie.

“Miss Anastasia Steele, I presume?”

She took a step back. What the fuck was even happening here? “I’m sorry, what?”

“You are Miss Anastasia Steele, are you not?”

“The fuck I am.”

“Language, Miss Steele. I don’t tolerate such coarse behavior from my bed partners. Now, fetch some decent clothing. Borrow something from that dreadful roommate of yours if you must.”

Emily stared at him wondering if an excess amount of dust could produce visual and auditory hallucinations. It was the only explanation.

“I’m not Anastasia Steele.”

He stared at him. “You’re  a college student. You’re clumsy. Who else would you be?”

Staring at him, her mouth fell open. How was any of this even possible? Maybe that clanging sound was her falling and hitting her head. Maybe she was unconscious and her brain was short-circuiting with this bizarre scenario.

“Time is money, and you’re wasting both. I’m a very important man Miss Steele. I have a helicopter and everything.”

Emily burst out laughing. She couldn’t help it.

“We’ll be taking Charlie Tango to your doctor’s appointment. You need birth control.”

“I’m not going anywhere with you, douchebag.”

Out of nowhere, a crop materialized in his hand, and he started toward her. This could not be real. But his very real hand closed around her upper arm and yanked her toward him. She tried to lurch away from him, but he held fast.

“I’m going to enjoy punishing you,” he murmured in her ear as he tried to drag her toward the door.

She look around for anything to use as a weapon. She was too far away from any of the actual weapons she’d put in the corner. Her eyes fell on the glass balls. She grabbed hold of the gold on and smashed it on the floor, hoping for the best. A swirling gold fog took the form of Diana Prince–Wonder Woman–shield and sword in hand.

Slowly she lifted her head, and her dark eyes fell on Emily then Christian. “You.” She leveled her blade at him. “Release her.”

“I will not. She signed a contract.”

“No I didn’t!”

Diana moved closer until the metal point rested on his neck. “I said, release her.”

Christian let go of Emily’s arm, and she scrambled away from him as Diana stepped behind him, keeping the edge of her blade across his neck.

“Are you all right?” Diana asked?

Emily nodded. “Thanks.” She gestured toward Grey. “Now what?”

Diana smiled. “Now, I take him somewhere he can learn respect.” In a swirl of gold and gray mist, they were gone.

And Emily immediately began looking for bubble wrap.

That’s it for me this week. Be sure to check and see what the other blogger’s did with the prompt.

Jess * Kris * Gwen

Texts from Cait – Part Twenty-Two

Sometimes, nobody gets you like your sister.

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Spookiness for a Cause

Right now, I think we can all agree that the world is a pretty shitty place. There’s so much unrest and misery everywhere we look, and honestly, sometimes, it’s so overwhelming, I don’t know where to put the time and energy I have available into fixing it. I know a lot of the people I talk to feel the same way. So, I’d like to share a low-effort, impactful way you can help at least one group of people.

In August, I went to the Rust City Book Con, and I was lucky enough to meet Marie Piper. She’s a fabulous author, and all around awesome person. She’s also part of a project that’s raising money for Chicago-area charities who provide services for area’s homeless population.

Winter is coming, and winter in Chicago is absolutely brutal. Marie and eight other authors donated their time and talents (as did the cover artist) to put together a spooky anthology that releases on October 17th. All proceeds are going the above mentioned charities.

I just bought my copy. I hope you’ll pick up a copy, too. Every little bit helps, so I hope that you’ll help R. Diamond, Harley Easton, Gregory L. Norris, Randi Perrin, CM Peters, Marie Piper, S.B. Roark, Sienna Saint-Cyr, and Katey Tattrie help the Chicago-area homeless.

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Pre-order Haunt today! 

 A shadow at the window…A creak in the floorboards…

The air is getting colder and the leaves are beginning to change. Halloween is just around the corner. This October, let R. Diamond, Harley Easton, Gregory L. Norris, Randi Perrin, CM Peters, Marie Piper, S.B. Roark, Sienna Saint-Cyr, and Katey Tattrie give you the shivers with HAUNT, a collection of nine brand-new and wide-ranging tales of haunted dwellings.

 

Roommates by Katey Tattrie

Redemption Hill by Randi Perrin

By Tethers Bound by S.B. Roark

The B Room by CM Peters

Error by R. Diamond

The Shut-In by Gregory L. Norris

Jessie by Marie Piper

Possessed by Sienna St. Cyr

People who live in Glass Sanitoriums by Harley Easton

 

*All proceeds from HAUNT will go to Chicago-area charities that provide services for the homeless population.*

Available October 17th, 2017 via Amazon.

For more information, visit Marie Piper

Top 10: Story Tropes

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As usual, these aren’t in any discernable order–I’m just writing them as they occur to me.

10.) Friends to Lovers – I love a good Friends to Lovers romance. All that angst and uncertainty and fear about screwing up a perfectly good friendship? Loooooooovvvvvveeeeeee. Then the awkward morning afters and the inability to deal with the whole changed dynamic in the relationship? Love that, too.

9.) Enemies to Lovers – Enemies to Lovers is one of my all time favorites. I adore people who are getting their hate on but are utterly and unreasonably attracted to the object of their loathing. That whole trope is just delightful. And delicious. And dickish, because they’re always dickish to each other in the best ways possible. If the plot has a side of Forced Proximity, it’s even better. And when they finally come together (no pun intended to have all the hate sex? I. Am. There. For. That.

8.) Coworker/Office Romance – There is something that I adore about Workplace Romances. I think part of it is the emotional and social risks they take to be together that really appeals to me. This trope is almost always closely tied with the upcoming Secret Relationship trope which I also love. There’s something really satisfying about watching these two people who have to work together–no matter what state their relationship is in at the moment that immediately grabs my attention.

7.) Secret Relationship – As I mentioned above, this one is closely tied (for me, anyway) with the Coworker/Office Romance trope. There’s something I love about all the sneaking around, the having to pretend everything is normal when they’re with family/friends/coworkers even though they might have just finished having mind blowing sex in the closet. There’s nothing I don’t love about that dynamic.

6.) Second Chance – I’m a huge fan of this trope. I love seeing relationships work out the way they’re meant to for people–especially when you can see how much they belong together. And I love when they work through legitimate relationship issues in a meaningful way and when there’s been emotional growth by both parties. Reunion books are a big love of mine.

5.) Scars and Angst – I would be lying if I said that I didn’t love me a matching set of monogrammed emotional baggage. Bring me all the angst! ALL OF IT! However, said luggage needs to be realistically written and all of those emotional issues absolutely cannot be solved by the magic peen or the magic vag. That’s a hard nope for me.

4.) Fairy Tales – I love Fairy Tales in all their iterations and romantic retellings are often a good comfort read. One of my favs will always be Beauty and the Beast–which is handy. A lot of people like that one, so there are some great versions out there.

3.) Geeky Romance – I know a lot of people love their alphahole heroes, but I’m not one of them. I’d rather read a good geeky romance that are populated by people who are so much like the people I hang out with, that often, the characters seem like old friends. Characters who are smart, may be a socially awkward and who are are passionate about their nerdy interests and each other, too, This is my tribe.

2.) BFF’s Sibling – This is another one of those that usually slots in nicely with Secret Relationship, because there’s always so much at risk there. Not only the romantic relationship, but also the BFF friendship.

1.) Fling to a Thing – Another fave is Fling to a Thing. You know the one–both parties agree that it’s just going to be a no-strings fling and then they get all the feels? But they just keep fighting it. That is a thing of beauty.

Bonus Item.) Student/Teacher – I really love this trope–with some caveats. Not the super sleazy kind with an unhealthy power imbalance, manipulation, or coercion. NOPE.

Okay, so share. What are some of your favorite tropes? And if you can think of titles you love that involve any of my faves, please share those, too! And if you happen to be riding any of the same trope trains as me, may I suggest…


Rewritten: Coworkers Romance, Scars/Angst, Enemies to Lovers, Geeky Romance

The Professor’s Student: Student/Teacher, Secret Relationship, Fling to a Thing

Drawn That Way: Geeky Romance, Coworkers Romance, Secret Relationship, Fling to a                                       Thing

Out of Sync:  Friends to Lovers, Fling to a Thing, Secret Relationship, Second Chance

In Bounds: Enemies to Lovers, Coworkers Romance,

Finding You: Friends to Lovers, Scars and Angst,

Unexpected Gifts: Friends to Lover’s, BFF’s Sibling,

Be sure to check out Jess and Gwen’s posts, too!

Flash Fiction #67 – Forest

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46036540 - colorful dreamy; foggy autumn forest scene background.

I’ve decided to do something I don’t do often, and that’s continue an existing flash fic story, but I think this photo prompt will do nicely. I’m hoping that you’ll be able just pick up here and read if you haven’t read the others. But, just in case, here are parts one, two, and three.

Eion’s muttered “fuck me” was still ringing in Hollis’ ears as she blinked, trying to make sense of what she was seeing. Somehow, in this room, in the sub-basement of the university’s library, was an entire forest. At least, it looked like there was an entire forest.

It not only looked like there was an entire forest, it smelled like it, too. The sharp fragrance of fallen leaves mingled with the more pungent scents of long decayed vegetation and dank earth.

Brilliant red oak leaves blanketed the forest floor, while mist slithered through the tree trunks and the bare, low-hanging branches. The sky was that odd greenish-gray color it only ever seemed to turn in autumn–right before an early snowstorm. A cool, damp breeze brushed her cheek, lifting her hair slightly and sending a chill down her spine. She pulled the sleeves of her oversized sweater over her suddenly cold hands. There’d better not be an early snowstorm while they were…wherever they were.

She glanced at Eion. His blue eyes were wide, and his lips were parted slightly as he looked around, seemingly taking in everything around them. “What the actual merciless fuck is this place?” His tone accusatory, he turned to face her.

“How the hell would I know?”

“You’re the one with the bloody key.”

“Well, I didn’t know it would lead here.”

He reached out, and his fingers brushed across her neck as he caught the cord the key hung on and pulled it from inside her sweater. She tried not to shiver again.

“Where did you get this, anyway?”

“My grandmother kind of willed it to me when she died.”

Standing far closer to her than was entirely comfortable, he turned the key over and over in his long fingers, inspecting it from every angle. “How does someone kind of will something?”

Hollis explained about her cousin and the trade they’d made in the lawyer’s office.

Eion frowned. “Who would have a tantrum about an inheritance?”

“Kylie Edgerton. Back row of the eight am session of History 101.”

Eion laughed. “You two share DNA?”

“Not willingly,” she muttered, snatching the key from his hand and turning away. She needed to put some space between them. He was even more attractive up close, and the last thing she needed was for her TA to realize yet another college freshman had a crush on him.

Glancing up, she realized that the mist had crept closer, swallowing the few evergreens that grew in amongst the oaks. “Eion?”

“Yeah?”

“I think it’s getting darker.”

He glanced around. “It’s definitely getting creepier.”

“Maybe…” she willed her voice not to shake, “we should come back during the day?”

“How do I know you won’t come back without me?”

“Really? You think I’m going to go to a spooky magical forest by my damn self?”

He looked at her as if she’d lost her mind. “I don’t recall anyone forcing you to sneak down to the sub-basement and open one of these doors, love.”

Okay, he wasn’t wrong about that. “Well, I don’t know that I would have gone in if not for you and whoever was coming down the elevator.”

Crossing his arm over his chest, he raised an eyebrow at her. “Right.”

“Fine,” she mutttered. “I promise I won’t come back without you.”

“Good.”

They turned back toward the door, and Hollis’ lurched forward, her head swimming violently. Eion caught her, tugging her into his side as they both stood there and stared. The door they’d come through was gone as if it had never been there.

The door was gone.

The wall was gone.

There was nothing but blood-red leaves and creeping fog all around them.

That’s it for me this week, be sure to check out Jess and Siobhan’s stories, too.

Monthly Goals Check-In: September 2017

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It’s that time of the month, again–time to see what I accomplished, and what I didn’t.

Okay, so last month, I said I’d:

  • Release Rewritten (Yep!)
  • Finish all my scheduled blog posts (Yep)
  • Continue writing daily (Mostly)
  • Finish building the websites (Two out of three…)
  • Make progress on some re-releases I’ll be putting out (Nope!)
  • Complete the assigned audio preps (Yep)
  • Complete the spreadsheet for my friend’s business (Yep…but, it wasn’t quite what she was hoping for, so it needs to be redone.)
  • Finally sort out the bedding and purge my clothes (Nope)
  • Finish two very late Christmas presents (Nope, but I made progress.)

So, for October, my goals are:

  • Finish the rewrite of Under Your Spell
  • Finish all of my scheduled blog posts
  • Finish building the last website
  • Complete the assigned audiobook preps
  • Sort bedding and purge my clothes
  • Finish the two very, very late Christmas presents
  • Start holiday shopping
  • Send out review requests
  • Finish the coursework for the surprise class I took in September
  • Complete scheduled client edits

I think that’s all I’m actually going to schedule for right now. Be sure to check in with Jess, too, and see what she’s got going.

 

Stress, Writing Anxiety, and a New Book

This year has been a bit of a suckfest writing-wise–mostly because of constant, unrelenting stress and anxiety–both personal and environmental. And the constant, unrelenting stress led to depression and more stress and anxiety over being depressed and unable to write. (Hello, vicious circle. I see you there. Now, move the fuck along.)

However, I’ve been working really hard, since our annual writers retreat in June, to reorganize my life. (hahaha) Okay, I’m at least making sure I write every day – or as close to it as I can get. Even with all of the editing and other day job work I’m doing, I’ve still been writing, and I’ve been SO. MUCH. HAPPIER.

I love the stories I write. Obviously…I wouldn’t bother writing them if I didn’t. Duh, Bron. But I’d be lying if I said I didn’t have my favorites. For the longest time, Drawn That Way held the top spot in my heart for many reasons. And I’ll always love Rory and Tristan, but I believe they’ve been dethroned by Angus and Eliza.Writing their story was incredibly emotional for me–because of their shit and my shit–all the shit, really. But I’m pleased with how it came out, and I’m so happy to share it with you guys!

Because…it’s here!!!

Rewritten is finally out!!! It’s the next book in The Bound Series that I share with my girl, Jess Jarman.

Here are the people I envisioned while writing. Because, really, any day I can spend fantasizing about Aidan Turner and Karen Gillan and call it work is a good day.

That came out all weird, but I feel like you guys know what I mean.

And here’s the blurb:

Betrayed and completely exposed, she’d sworn off kink. Hell, she’d sworn off men. But she hadn’t counted on him…

One of the hottest voices in Sci-Fi, Angus Domhnull is renowned not just for his sweeping sagas, but for his stupidly gorgeous looks—and the fact that he’s taken almost five years to finish his latest novel. Now, assistant editor, Eliza Burrows, is stuck minding him, and his brooding nature is pushing every sexually submissive button she has. But even if Angus wasn’t her publisher’s star author, he’d be off-limits—after a painful betrayal, Eliza doesn’t play anymore, and she’s not about to start again with him.

Unable to deliver his long-awaited manuscript, Angus is saddled with a keeper—and her creative input—that he never asked for. Despite the resentment and animosity brewing between them, he finds himself drawn to Eliza. As he learns more about the intriguing woman behind the prickly facade, he falls for her, hard and deep.

When the attraction between them ignites, Eliza lets Angus bring her to one place she swore she’d never go again—her knees. He wants more than just her submission, but her past and the secrets she’s hidden could destroy everything…

**Content Warning: Some violence, discussion of suicide and assault — not committed by the hero. 

 

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(excerpt)       Amazon  *  B&N  *  iBooks  *  Kobo

Also, I’m looking for reviewers, so if any of you are willing to review on Amazon and Goodreads, please email me at bronwyn (at symbol) bronwyngreen (dot) com, and I’ll hook you up.

What I Gained–or Lost–by Taking a Risk

This bird is my Patronus.

So, I’m not really big on risk-taking, really. I like to be comfy. I like warm sweaters and toasty slippers. I like cwtching up under blankets and reading books. I like tea and toast. I like rainy autumn days.

I guess I’m basically a hobbit. I think that explains everything, because I also like second breakfast. And elevensies.

But anyway, like I said, I’m not into risks. Which isn’t to say I haven’t done stupid things that were also risky. But typically, I only realize the risks after I escape certain death. (Crossing the Mackinac Bridge about 45 minutes before the poor driver of the Yugo was blown over the side in her car, hiking on the rock formation that makes up Devil’s Wash Tub on a high wind/heavy wave day, driving through a stretch of road that Lake Superior was in the process of washing out at the time. All risks–all stupid as fuck because I am so, so bad at math.)

But, I guess I’ve also taken some intentional risks, though they’ve mostly been the emotional kind. Like this whole writing gig. No, not all of my books are written from personal experiences–I’m not out banging ghosts or lesser known Celtic deities, or killing vampires, or dealing with bad tempered Scottish authors who look like Aidan Turner. Though, I’d totally sign up for that one. But I think there are always elements of every writer in the stories they tell. I think that someone who knows me decently could easily pick out the bits and pieces of me that end up in any given character.

A lot of writers have a cool public persona. I hate to disappoint anyone, but I’m not one of them. What you see is what you get. Mostly, because I don’t have the time or energy to cultivate anything else. You either like me or you don’t. And that’s absolutely fine. I don’t imagine that I’m everyone’s cup of tea, and I’m okay with that. After all, not everyone is my cup of tea, either. But it is a bit of a risk to put myself, my feelings, my opinions, my whatever, out here like this on the regular.

But here’s the the thing, even though sometimes I feel awkward and exposed and self-conscious, the benefits outweigh the risks. Depending on the prompt and what I’m motivated to write about on any given day, some posts end up working as an online journal. Some posts end up being therapy where I learn new things about myself/life/etc. And some posts end up forging connections and friendships, and those are things that I wouldn’t trade for anything.

If I hadn’t taken the risk to pursue publication and put myself out here, awkward weirdness and all,  I never would have met so many of my fantabulous friends. Absolutely amazing people that I only get to see once or twice a year. Some even less than that. Some that I haven’t met IRL yet,  and some I may never meet physically. But these are all people who are very dear to me, and I’m grateful for all of you.

Being oneself as unapologetically as possible isn’t always comfortable, but the risks are more than worth it when the result is the friendship and camaraderie of some of the best people I’ve ever encountered. In addition to a career that I love, I got a tribe that I love just as much, if not more. No, more. Writing wouldn’t be half as much fun without you. So, I’ll probably continue to do stupid shit and realize later it was risky, but I’ll also keep on taking this particular risk. The gains are too great not to.

Be sure to check out Jessica and Paige’s risky behavior, too.

The Evolution of Cover Art for Rewritten: Or Why I Am the Literal Worst

I’m lucky enough to tons of amazing people in my corner when it comes to the business side of writing. One of those people is my friend and cover artist, Kris Norris. Se does amazing things with cover art and she basically has the patience of a saint when it comes to dealing with me.

I’m the worst. The absolute worst.

I get an idea for cover art, and I love it. And she makes it. And then I squint at it and think of all the reasons it’s not really right. Reasons that St. Norris has been subtly hinting at for days, but she indulges me anyway. Why? Because for some reason, she loves me. And also she’s a glutton for punishment.

So, I found this stock art for my upcoming release, Rewritten, and fell in love with the idea of it. When the story begins, Angus and Eliza’s relationship is a bit combative. Here, this is the blurb–it explains things pretty well.

Betrayed and completely exposed, she’d sworn off kink. Hell, she’d sworn off men. But she hadn’t counted on him…  

One of the hottest voices in Sci-Fi, Angus Domhnull is renowned not just for his sweeping sagas, but for his stupidly gorgeous looks—and the fact that he’s taken almost five years to finish his latest novel. Now, assistant editor, Eliza Burrows, is stuck minding him, and his brooding nature is pushing every sexually submissive button she has. But even if Angus wasn’t her publisher’s star author, he’d be off-limits—after a painful betrayal, Eliza doesn’t play anymore, and she’s not about to start again with him.

Unable to deliver his long-awaited manuscript, Angus is saddled with a keeper—and her creative input—that he never asked for. Despite the resentment and animosity brewing between them, he finds himself drawn to Eliza. As he learns more about the intriguing woman behind the prickly facade, he falls for her, hard and deep.

When the attraction between them ignites, Eliza lets Angus bring her to one place she swore she’d never go again—her knees. He wants more than just her submission, but her past and the secrets she’s hidden could destroy everything…

So, St. Norris took my annoying stock photo (inevitably, I always like a landscape orientation when a portrait orientation would work better) and made this fantastic cover that I really adored. I loved the torn paper, the partially erased writing, the couple crabbily sitting back to back. I thought it was the cutest.

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And it is the cutest. However, at best, it looks like a straight contemporary romance. It doesn’t look like an erotic romance and definitely not an erotic romance with BDSM elements.

That usually leads me to texting her the phrase: Hey, Norris…please don’t hate me, but…

So after some discussion and agreement that it looked a little too sweet and looooooooooots of scrounging for cover models, St. Norris came up with this.

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Definitely more of a steamy romance look while still keeping the ripped paper/erased words thing that I loved so much. I loved it–though part of me was still stuck on the cutesy cover. See? The worst.

Jess Jarman (also a saint, frankly) and I share the Bound series. And we love it. It’s so much fun to write a series with one of your BFFs. Sometimes, we even borrow each other’s characters. For instance, one of her upcoming characters, Kit Sterling, puts in a brief appearance in Rewritten. It’s  both awesome and nerve-wracking to write someone else’s character (probably why I don’t write fan fic) but I know that she’ll tweak whatever doesn’t work for her. And I’ll do the same when she’s got one of mine.

Anyway, Jess and I were talking, and several people had mentioned to that we might want to consider rebranding the whole series. Freshen it up a bit. So, we hemmed and hawed and eventually I said: Hey, Norris…please don’t hate me, but…

And Norris, amazing woman that she is, rebranded our whole series. Look at all of our new pretties!

And here’s Jess’ upcoming release, Safeword Protected!

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And here’s the final for Rewritten!  I absolutely love it, and it totally fits the book!  (I promise, Norris, I won’t change my mind again!)

And you can pre-order it now at:

Amazon  * B&N  * iBooks  *  Kobo

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