Midweek Tease: More Paranormal Moments

MWTease15Good morning! Well, we’re five days away from the end of the month and Halloween. I thought I would finish off the month with another tease from Echoes of the Past. Have you ever had a dream that felt too real not to be a memory?

In Echoes of the Past, understanding the past and accepting it are critical to being able to move into the future. Step into Michelle’s nightmare one last time.

echoesebookfinalRun! Run faster! Don’t stop! They can’t catch you. If they do, it’s over, and you’ll both die a horrible death. The thought spurs her on. The night air’s cold, colder than normal for this time of year, yet she’s soaking wet from her exertions. The stitch in her side cripples her in its intensity. Her feet ache from stepping on sharp rocks and twigs, and in one of her falls, she’s lost her left moccasin.

She’s felt her uncle’s anger before, and she knows if her father turns her over to him again, she’ll never survive another of his beatings. As chief, her father must set the example for his people as well as for her sisters. What she’s doing is wrong, and if she’s caught, she’ll have to be punished.

Exhaustion slows her movements, but she reaches the edge of the sacred waters minutes ahead of her pursuers. She slides into the marsh, its frigid water numbing her feet, and squats down in the bulrushes, waiting for her enemies to pass her by and continue to the edge of the lake where the village keeps its fishing canoes. She begs the spirits to forgive her for violating their waters this way.

The men have almost reached the place where she veered away from the path. Will they see the telltale signs of her passing? It’s dark, and the moonlight barely reaches the forest floor. She hears them approach, but they don’t even slow down, as they continue along the well-worn trail.

She moves slowly through the rushes toward the water’s edge where she’s hidden her canoe. Last night, she risked her life to save him. They’d beaten him so badly, and there were so many cuts on his beautiful body. His face was a mass of dark purple bruises, but he refused to leave the island without her. She hurried back to the village so no one would suspect that she’d been the one to release their prisoner.

All day long, she’d sat by the longhouse with the women grinding corn for the winter stores. She knew they hadn’t found him—they’d looked in the waters of the great river as she’d hoped they would. They’d launched canoes and scoured the riverbank thinking he’d tried to return to his people, but they’re wrong. He waits for her.

She sits shivering in the marsh, listening to their hurried footsteps as they continue along the trail. They’ve got no need for stealth, but she, on the other hand … Where can she go? The path leads to the lake and nowhere else.

She trembles, and her teeth chatter. As she moves toward the bank where she’s left the means of her escape, she glimpses the main body of the lake. Unlike last night, the harvest moon coats the surface of the water in silver, and she can see the gentle current flowing toward the waterfall and the man she loves.

Why did her father decide to give her to Annosothka tonight of all nights? He’s a handsome brave, but he isn’t the man she loves.

She hadn’t expected them to discover her missing so soon. Now, her uncle and her husband pursue her, and if they catch her, the punishment will be more than she can endure. She’s supposed to be a maiden. What will Annosothka do if he discovers she isn’t?

She moves stealthily to the edge of the water and slips into her canoe. She paddles slowly but silently along the shore. Thinking she is far enough away not to be noticed, she begins the trek across the water, but the moonlight betrays her. She hears her uncle’s cry when he spots her and the sound of their canoe being launched is loud in her ears.

They’re much stronger than she is. Two men paddling in a canoe eat up the distance between her and themselves quickly—too quickly.

Sisters, help me, she prays to the spirits of her people, but the men continue to gain on her. She knows he can see her and those pursuing her, but he’s unarmed, without a canoe of his own, and powerless to help her.

She’s only minutes from him and freedom when she feels their canoe nudge hers, and knowing she can’t let him be taken again, she does the only thing she can do. She throws herself into the frigid waters of the lake, feels the water tug at her, and sinks beneath its surface.

Kicking with all her might, she forces herself to start swimming and surfaces a few feet from the canoe.


She hears them calling her name and prays they won’t realize there’s a third voice calling. She strikes out toward the center of the lake where the spirit sisters dwell, as far away from his hiding place as she can get.

As strong a swimmer as she is, she can’t make any progress with the weight of her garments pulling her down. She slips under the water, the icy liquid filling her nose and her mouth. She kicks up to the surface again, coughs, and looks around her. Their canoe is moving closer. She ducks back under the water, hoping they haven’t seen her, and moves in the direction of the far shore.

Her lungs ache and burn from lack of air, she fights her way back to the surface that seems almost too far away to reach. Her hands and feet are numb, refusing to obey the commands of her mind. Her head breaks the surface of the lake, and she gasps, swallowing mouthful after mouthful of water. She chokes, unable to breathe properly as the current and her clothing work together to pull her under again.

She forces her weakened legs to kick, fighting to keep her head above water, and looks toward the shore, now much farther away than she expects it to be. Exhausted, she floats for a few moments, hoping to regain some of her strength. She’s so cold, so tired.

She hears the water sing loudly and realizes the sisters have refused to help her and have sent her in the wrong direction. A hand even colder than the water reaches up and grasps her right heel, pulling her down. She betrayed her people, gave herself to the enemy, and this is her punishment. Her fate is sealed. There’ll be no escape. She thinks she sees him run into the water. She thinks he cries her name—the sound of it carries on the wind. Goodbye, my love. She screams only once as she tumbles over the lip and the current carries her down the rocky slope into the waters of the great lake hundreds of feet below.

Echoes of the Past is on sale this month only for 99 cents USD.


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Tuesday Tales: From the Word GHOST


Good morning and welcome to this week’s Tuesday Tales. It’s definitely autumn here in Eastern Ontario, but on Paradise island, the Quimbois magic continues for MJ and Paul as Wedding Bell Blues  head s for its climax.

Here’s is this week’s scene. Enjoy!

MJ cocked an eyebrow at him.

“Why are you really doing this, Paul? And don’t give me anymore of that helping out an old friend or getting even with a bully crap,” she said, her gaze insisting on an honest answer, not another quip or deflection. “This pseudo wedding isn’t just going to transform my life; it’s going to change yours, too. I know you think we can get out of it easily, but so many things have gone wrong already. A lot of people are going to be hurt when the truth comes out, and Mama’s only one of them. I’ve always hated lies, and this is a whopper.”

Looking down at her, he swallowed. Maybe it was time for some truth.

“Change isn’t always a bad thing, MJ, but when it is, you’ve got a choice—let it beat you or do whatever you can to overcome it. I loved being a soldier, helping people, doing what little I could to make the world a better place, but sometimes, the best intentions blow up in your face. I made it back from Afghanistan alive—not everyone did—but I lost a piece of myself there. When I woke up in the hospital in Germany, I swore that if I survived, I would find a way to atone, a way to make my life count for something. Being able to go back to work as a police officer is a big part of it. I bought the house in Watertown because I believe it can help me lay to rest the ghosts that haunt me.”

“I don’t understand. What ghosts?” she asked, her gaze filled with compassion.

“Maybe someday I can share that with you, but believe me, this is the last conversation we should be having right now. Let me just finish with this. My life wasn’t perfect in Stilton, but I was happy when I was part of your family. That’s what I’m searching for. I need to find my happy place, and having you in my life will help me get there. You wanted honesty? Here it is. I’m a selfish bastard. I’m not doing this for you. I’m doing it for me.”

“Bullshit! You may think you’re being selfish, but you don’t have an egotistical bone in your body. There’s a lot you aren’t telling me, and I respect your right to keep your secrets. I can’t imagine what you’ve been through. I promise I’ll do whatever I can to help you find that happy place and make the next few months as bearable as I can. I haven’t been through hell the way you must’ve, but I will do whatever I can to help you find what you’re looking for. The only thing more I’ll ask from you is that we don’t lie to one another. Do we have a deal? It isn’t too late to back out. Everyone will hate us, but these are our lives on the line.”

Before he could answer, the door opened and Monsieur St. Louis stood there, his face split by the biggest grin he’d seen yet.

Vous voilà,” he said, obviously relieved to see them. “I was on my way to speak to you. Monsieur James has decided to film the noce civil on the beach near the cabanas. He says the sunset will make it more dramatic. The staff has taken care of everything. Many of the guests are already there, and there’s a cart waiting to take you down to the area where the ceremony will take place.”

“That’s fine” Paul answered, aware that MJ would probably welcome a few minutes more to prepare herself. She’d sounded confident, determined, and accepting of the situation, but he was positive it was an act. The pulse at the base of her throat displayed her agitation even if her words hadn’t.

MJ nodded and smiled, slipping her arm through his. “Of course. Louis Rich knows best, and if the sunset is as gorgeous as it was last night, I can see how standing with a liquid gold ocean in the background would be the perfect backdrop for a treasure hunt.”

Monsieur St. Louis nodded. “C’est vrai. If you’ll follow me? We can go through the main building.”

Paul put his hand over MJ’s as she held his arm and followed the manager. He could feel her nervous tremor. Leaning down, he whispered into her ear.

“Just think of it as a scene in a Hollywood movie. It’ll be over in one quick take, and then, everyone will reach for champagne, toast the occasion, and then focus on the treasure—the real reason they’re here. We’ll be nothing more than window dressing.”

She chuckled. “I hope so, but I can’t help thinking this is one of those movies, where, just as the bride and groom kiss, the camera cuts to the water and an enormous Great White shark surfaces.”

Paul laughed, unable to erase the image of a bad B-rated horror movie from his mind as Monsieur St Louis opened the building’s main door.

“You crack me up, you know that—”

carriage“Oh my God!” MJ cut him off before he could finish. “I wasn’t expecting this.” The awe in her voice matched his surprise. “If this is Quimbois magic … It’s Cinderella’s coach. Paul, it couldn’t be more perfect.” Her eyes shone with excitement, reminding him of the countless pictures he’d seen of radiant brides on their wedding day. Come hell or high water, he wouldn’t let her down.

“Your carriage awaits, princess,” he said softly.

The beautiful, white, antique calèche was shaped like a pumpkin.Votive candles front and back would provide lighting for it tonight.  A man, dressed in the island’s livery, held the carriage door open for them.

“You like it?” the manager asked, the smug look on his face telling him he knew she did. “Monsieur Rich brought it to the island this morning, horse and all.”

“It’s a dream come true,” she said. “If I’m asleep, please never wake me up.”

Monsieur St’ Louis chuckled. “Madame, as I’ve said before. On Paradise Island, all your dreams come true. Alphonse will drive you around the island, and I will meet you at the outdoor chapel. Enjoy!”

Can you imagine a more perfect way to get to a wedding?

That’s it for this week. Please take the time to check out the other selections on  Tuesday Tales


Cover Reveal! Desert Deception

It’s here! As I put the finishing touches on my newest novel, I want to share the blurb and cover with you.desertdeception-600x960

Desert Deception, isn’t an entirely new story. It grew out of Coming Home, Taking a Chance on Love, the book I co-wrote as Misty Matthews, that is no longer available. When SCP closed its doors as a publisher, Misty and I parted ways. We divided the spoils of our writing career between us, and we remain good friends.

Like Nature, I abhor a vacuum, and having that book sit there on my desktop, alone and forgotten bothered me. I wanted to do something with it, something that spoke to my  preference for romantic suspense and so, I opened the manuscript and went to work–slash and burn would be a good way to describe the changes I made.

Instead of a contemporary romance, you’ve got a modern day western, set in Arizona. I loved the idea of a writer keeping his identity a secret, and the idea that we don’t always remember the past accurately. With that in mind I tweaked that skeletal part of the story and built one of “my” style of murder and mayhem novels around it. This one is full of the twists and turns my readers love.

Here is the new blurb:

Seeing is believing, or is it?

When high-powered Santa Fe attorney Casey Stevens reluctantly returns to Fortune for Gold Rush Days, she is drawn to Cole Walker Junior, but he is no longer the shy, quiet boy she recalls. Then again, Cole isn’t the only one who has changed. The town may be celebrating its past, but someone is trying to destroy its future. A hit and run accident leaves Fortune’s only lawyer in a coma, forcing Casey to choose between helping innocent people and running away once more. Can she face the demons of her past or will they destroy her this time?

Cole Warner has a secret identity, one he’s determined to protect at all costs. The police officer, volunteer firefighter, and part-time store owner, is also popular western novelist, CJ Coleson, who uses Fortune and its people as the inspiration for his books. Having Casey walk into his life turns it upside down. When someone starts using the murders in Cole’s books to stage a killing spree of their own, keeping his secret may be too costly, but admitting the truth could ruin any chance they have for a happily ever after.

As the bodies pile up and the buildings burn down, Casey and Cole have to work together to stop a madman with gold fever before more people die. The answer lies on Superstition Mountain or is it all a desert deception?

Desert Deception will be out in e-book format by November 1st with the paperback to follow. Looking for a book to give as a Christmas present? This might be it!


Midweek Tease: Paranormal Adventures

MWTease15Good morning, welcome to this week’s Midweek Tease, a place where I share my writing with a number of gifted authors. The blog hop is administered by the lovely Angelica  Dawson. If you are into erotic vampires, she’s your go-to author.

Since it’s October, I thought I would focus my teases for the rest of this month on the paranormal moments in my novel Echoes of the Past. 

Here’s today’s tease:

echoesebookfinalNaked, she lies on her back inside the green, leafy grotto, which meshes seamlessly into the landscape. It’s late morning, and after last night’s storm, everything smells clean and fresh. She stares up at the man she loves, but darkness and his long, honey-brown hair shadow his face. Her body hums in anticipation of his touch. Her nipples harden. His large, calloused hands caress her, and where they touch, her flesh burns with desire.

He runs the fingers of one hand through her unbraided hair. His lips capture hers in a searing kiss, branding her his. She reaches up to him. She opens her mouth, and a deep moan escapes her as his lips meet hers.

The scene changes. He runs along the edge of the forest across the lake. Run, my love, she screams silently as all around her the women urge their men to hurry, pointing at him, screaming instructions. He stops, and once she knows he’s seen her, she turns away. They’ll catch him, and she can’t bear to watch him be killed. She pulls her marriage blanket tightly around her shoulders. Everyone thinks she’s made it for another. Sobbing, she hurries away from the beach…


Michelle Thomas awoke in tears as she had so many nights since arriving in Thunder Bay. Bathed in sweat, she shivered with need and a bone-deep cold invaded her body. The strange birthmark on her right ankle throbbed as it often did after the dreams. The nightmares, usually terrifying, realistic visions of her watery death, exhausted her. Recently, the dreams which had plagued her most of her life had changed, and these new ones in which she was both participant and witness, frustrated and grieved her. She preferred those old night terrors to these out of body erotic fantasies with a man whose face she never saw, but loved with every ounce of her being. Tonight, the thought of his capture and death made the pain of loss worse than ever. How could she go on like this?

Her wild weeping slowed to sobbing. She got out of bed and padded into the motel room’s washroom. She turned on the light and gasped at the mirror’s reflection. The face of a woman who closely resembled her—the Mohawk woman in braids she’d been seeing off and on for weeks now—glared accusingly at her.

“What do you want from me?” she yelled at the face in the mirror, her anguish clear in her tear-filled voice.

“You’re dead. He’s dead. I don’t have any answers for you. Go away. Leave me in peace.”

Echoes of the Past is available from any Amazon retailer for less than a USD this month.


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#MidWeekTease October 19, 2016

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Tuesday Tales: From a Picture

badge-for-tt-very-small-1Good morning. Welcome to Living the Dream. It’s time for this week’s Tuesday Tales. Since I picked up a few new followers last week, let me explain what I do here.

From one week to the next, a group of very talented ladies allow me to participate in a blog hop designed to stretch the imagination and a writer’s creativity. Most weeks, we are given a word, but one a month we are provided with a picture and on those weeks, we have to limit our posts to 300 words. In the past, two of my Tuesday Tales have ended up as published works–Forever and Always, a novelle and Hello Again, a paranormal romance suspense. My current wip for this activity is entitled, Wedding Bell Blues.

This week, we had to choose one of three photographs provided by our fearless leader, Jean Joachim.Most of the time, I’ve been able to make the word or image fit my current manuscript, and I did it again this week, but I might’ve stretched the intent of the image just a little bit. As the announcers say in baseball–just a bit outside.

Here is the image I chose:


What do you think of the way I used it?

While it was true this civil marriage wasn’t legally binding, it was just too real. Part of him wanted it to be,  but his conscience screamed that, knowing what kind of man he really was, he didn’t deserve someone as wonderful as MJ in his life. He was broken, unlovable, and incapable of loving anyone. The last time he’d cared about someone and that person had trusted him, all hell had broken loose. People had died.

Paul swallowed and pasted what he prayed was a reassuring smile on his face, determined not to blow this. He’d do whatever had to be done to protect her and get even with the schmuck who’d broken her heart and caused her so much pain.

“Cold?” he asked, realizing it was an inane comment since it was at least eighty degrees out since the sun wouldn’t set for another three hours.

“Not cold—maybe a little nervous,” she admitted, her gorgeous sea-green eyes begging for reassurance. “Isn’t a girl supposed to be anxious on her wedding day?”

“Only if she’s marrying a frog,” he said and winked. “There’s nothing to be antsy about. It’s like slicing bread. Think of that loaf they gave us at lunch. You don’t like crust, but once I cut off the heel, the bread was perfect—manna from heaven.”

She burst out laughing.

“You’re comparing our wedding to bread? Seriously?”

“Sure. Why not. Bread’s a staple of life. The Achilles Heel was the crust, and I’m the white, fluffy interior. It works for me.” He reached for her hand and entwined his fingers with hers. “I’ll be by your side the whole time, just like I was this afternoon. You had fun then, you can have fun now. The ceremony takes about ten minutes max.”

That’s it for this week. Please take the time to check out the other selections on  Tuesday Tales

Last Day of the October Frights Blog Hop


Welcome to the final day of the October Frights Blog Hop. Getting to share my words with you and read yours has been a lot of fun. I hope we’ll all keep in touch. I have so many ideas on the back burner as I’m sure you do.

Today, I thought I’d go back and give you a last taste of Echoes of the Past. The book is on sale for 99 cents USD all month. https://www.amazon.com/Echoes-Past-Susanne-Matthews-ebook/dp/B014X8XLLY

echoesebookfinalTasha opened the shop door, and Michelle reluctantly followed her inside. The store smelled of incense and age. Some of the books moldering on the shelves had to be a hundred years old. There was some kind of punk music playing in the background—not a musical style she enjoyed. She looked around her. There were crystals of every shape, size, and color, some on chains, others in dishes. Cones and sticks of incense, burners, and candles in every scent known to man littered the counters. She noted the numerous apothecary jars filled with powders of various colors all neatly labelled.

If I look hard enough will I find eye of newt and mandrake root? Michelle relaxed. I don’t think I have anything to worry about here. There’s no way this woman will figure out my secret.

The young Goth girl standing by the cash register didn’t even look up when the bell attached to the door announced their arrival. The open magazine on the counter engrossed her. Dressed entirely in black, a spiked dog collar around her neck, she had short, spiked, black hair with tips dyed to match the blood-red lipstick she wore. She was quite pretty if you could overlook the ghoulish make-up and way too many piercings. “Can I help you?” She didn’t take the time to look at them and sounded as bored as she probably was. The place didn’t look as if it had had customers in days.

“Yes, you can,” Tasha spoke before Michelle could turn tail and run.

“My friend is here to see Audra. Is she accepting clients tonight?”

The girl’s head jerked up, like a bobble-headed doll pressed too hard. Surprise and excitement glowed in her startling, black-lined, green eyes. She smiled, showing off teeth so white, they must recently have been bleached. She looked from Michelle to Tasha and back to Michelle again. “This is like, so cool. Audra said you were coming. She always knows.” She pointed a black-fingernail-tipped finger at Michelle. “You’re Michelle, right?”

Tasha gasped. “How did you know her name? That’s freaky!”

A frisson coursed down Michelle’s spine. What was going on here? There was no way this woman could know her name. While Michelle believed in ghosts, witches and warlocks were the stuff of fairy tales. Tasha!

“You called ahead and made an appointment, didn’t you? You’re pretty sure of yourself,” she accused.

“As God is my witness, I didn’t call. How could I? I didn’t even know you were going to go through with it. I waited all afternoon for you to call and tell me you were going on that case and leaving right away. That’s why I’d arranged to meet Simon at The Copper Kettle, too. He’d have been there if it hadn’t been for that accident, or are you going to accuse me of arranging that four car pile-up, too?”

Tasha tried to look indignant, but the combination of awe and fear on her face spoiled the look.

Her expression convinced Michelle she was telling the truth.

The girl behind the counter giggled self-consciously and closed her magazine. She’d been following their conversation closely. While she might have been told to expect them, she seemed slightly spooked, too.

Michelle’s level of discomfort rose.

“This is so awesome! Audra said you’d be skeptical. Your friend is right. She didn’t call or anything, but Audra knew you were coming. She even told me you’d be the dark-haired one, and I should treat you with respect. Are you a witch, too? I’ve never been told to be especially nice to anyone before.”

Tasha laughed. “Let me think, I’ve heard her called something like that, but I’m sure it started with a ‘B’.”

The girl giggled again, the innocent sound at odds with her macabre appearance.

Michelle glared at Tasha. “Very funny. I love you, too.”

“Go on back, Michelle. She’s waiting for you.” The girl pointed to Tasha. “Sorry, but Audra says you’re to wait out here with me.”

“Dang! I wanted to sit in on the audience.” She made a face and pouted. “You’ll tell me everything, promise?”

Michelle nodded.

Tasha then fell into the overstuffed chair in what must be the reading-waiting area. “Okay. You’re on your own. Since it’s my idea, I’ll pay.”

“No, you won’t,” the cashier interrupted. “Audra says there’s no charge.”

Michelle looked from one woman to the other, shook her head, and turned to face the heavy black velvet drapery separating the audience area from the rest of the store. She felt a sense of impending doom.

What the hell is going on here? I should just turn around and walk out of this place.

As much as the idea of leaving appealed to her, she realized she couldn’t do it. It was like watching two cars speeding toward each other. You knew something bad was going to happen, but you were powerless to stop it. She separated the curtains and stepped through.

She’d entered a different dimension. Gone was the punk rock music in the background. Even the smell was different in here. How was that possible? Michelle looked around the small enclosure, her gaze coming to rest on the woman standing behind the small, round, black-cloth-covered table. She blinked.

If you wanted someone to pose for one of Macbeth’s witches, Audra would be the perfect choice. The woman, old and bent, resembled everyone’s Halloween-inspired image of a sorceress—minus the warts. She had long, gray hair, which probably hadn’t seen a comb, or shampoo, for that matter, in years.

The minute Michelle sat on the chair in front of the seer, she knew she wasn’t a fraud. The spirits were with this woman, and Michelle had long since learned to respect the spirits even if she didn’t like the hold they had over her.

The woman sat after she did and smiled. The gesture transformed her. Suddenly, instead of an old crone, the woman who sat before her had an ageless beauty and wisdom about her. Her sightless eyes remained as before. She was calm.

Instantly, Michelle relaxed. “What are you?” she whispered.

Leave a comment for your chance to win an electronic copy of this book.

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Look Who Dropped By Today: Siren Allen

Today, there are two posts on Living the Dream. If you are looking for the October Frights Blog Hop, scroll down. If you want to take advantage of a great giveaway, check the end of this post! 

This morning I want to welcome fellow author, Siren Allen who’s got news about her latest book and a giveaway for you, too.Take it away, Siren.

Dress codes and giveaways with author Siren Allen!

silver I’m excited to announce that I have a new Sci-Fi romance available. The book is titled, Silver, and it’s available on Amazon. I thoroughly enjoyed writing Silver and I fell in love with the characters long before I began writing the story. Silver is an alpha male who is used to getting his way, while Malia is sort of shy but slowly learning to hold her own on a ship full of males.

I wanted her to be comfortable in her own skin AND in her clothes. Though she’s on a ship with all males, there’s no reason why she has to dress in big baggy jeans just so the crew members won’t lust after her. Their ability to control themselves has nothing to do with her and her dress code. So when her mate, Silver, asks her to change clothes, her answer is no.

Her answer HAD to be no. The topic of the way women dress is important to me. Too many times I’ve heard, ‘well, if she wasn’t wearing a short skirt they wouldn’t have thought she was easy’. Or, ‘she was asking for it with the way she was dressed’.

NEVER is a woman asking for it because of the way she’s dressed. Men can play outside on a basketball court with their shirts off and not be considered easy or fear that someone will do something to them because they’re half naked.

Men can get drunk in the club, stagger home and not fear getting raped because they’re intoxicated. They may get robbed, but getting raped probably wouldn’t be one of their worries. Now, I’m not saying that this type of crime doesn’t happen to men, because it does. But with the recent events, I feel the need to focus on women and what we go through. I travel a lot for my job. On my current assignment, I work nights which causes my husband to worry about me.

I must admit, I worry also. I wear baggy scrubs to work. I shouldn’t seem easy, right? I’m not drunk and staggering, so I’m not asking for it, right? Still, I fear walking across the dark parking garage late at night. I fear walking up the dark stairwell into the hospital I work in. I don’t just fear getting robbed, I fear getting raped. And it’s not only the horrible act I fear, I fear what happens next. The charges I have to press and the probing questions that will be asked. I fear that no one would believe me or even if they did, the culprit would get off with a slap on the wrist.

No woman should have these fears, no matter how she dresses. When I wrote Silver, I knew my heroine would be surrounded by males. I didn’t want her to be afraid. I didn’t want her to constantly worry about what she was wearing or how she looked or fear them hurting her. As the author, I was able to control the outcome of her situations. But outside of my writing, in my own life, I’m not as fearless as Malia.

I worry not only about myself, I also worry about my teenage nieces who are now going off to college. I even worry about other women, complete strangers I see in the grocery stores late at night, alone. I find myself praying that they make it home safely.

In Silver, I didn’t want Malia to have these worries, not from her own crew. Of course she’ll face them later on from other crews. But her guys are respectful. Her guys are loyal and would never hurt her. Her guys would give their lives to protect hers. Of course, her mate still doesn’t like her wearing hip-huggers. Unfortunately for him, Malia will never let a man dictate how she lives her life. I admire her. Below I’ve included info about the book and the awesome giveaway I’m having. I hope you enjoy reading Silver just as much as I enjoyed writing it.

All Malia Valdese wants to do is survive in the Outlands and serve food to the patrons of her diner. She doesn’t want anything to do with the handsome silver-eyed stranger who keeps showing up after closing, asking her weird questions and making her feel something she hasn’t felt in years, desire.

She doesn’t care that he’s the sexiest male she’s ever seen or that he stares at her like she’s the main course. Steering clear of him is her plan. Well, it was the plan, before he turned her world upside down with four words…. You’re coming with me.

Apparently she has no say in the matter.

She’s not on the menu. But she’s what he hungers for.

Her scent tells him she’s his and the wanted pictures popping up all over the dark-net tells him he needs to lay low for a while. Having her next to him in bed while he tries to clear his name is the plan. Unfortunately, his enemies are closer than he thought and now they’ve found his weakness…. her. Can he shield his mate from the consequences of his dark past? Or will she flee to his enemies to escape him and the intense emotions he stirs inside of her?

No matter what she chooses, he has no intention of letting her go, ever.


Silver waited on her to get dressed. When she reentered the room, he saw red. “Not happening. You are not wandering around my ship in that.”

“What?” She stared down at her clothing.

“Those jeans are too tight. I can see all of your curves.”

“They’re hip-huggers. They’re supposed to fit like this.”

“I’m the only one who should be hugging your hips.” Her smile proved she wasn’t taking him seriously. “You know what, I’m tired. I don’t feel like giving a tour.” Silver sat down on the mattress, eyes still on the jeans hugging his mate.

“Everyone wears them,” she rubbed her hands over the offensive fabric.

“Everyone isn’t my mate.”

“So you’re one of those kinds of males.”

“What kind?” The kind that didn’t want his female showcasing her body to his crew.

“The kind that wants his female to be obedient in all things, even how she dresses.”

“Of course not. You have a mind. You’re free to make your own decisions.”

“Except when it comes to clothing.”

“Except when it comes to clothing that shows all of your curves. My males, they are unmated. Though they’re loyal, I don’t want them staring at you, lusting after you.”

“Well then maybe you should change clothes too. I don’t want any female on this ship lusting after you. Fair is fair.”

“There are no other females on this ship.”

“Oh, well, I don’t want your males lusting after you.”

“My males wouldn’t…. wait, if I change clothes will you?”

“No,” she threw her arms wide, a frustrated expression on her face. “I was just trying to show you how stupid this whole conversation is.”

“The tour is over.” Silver laid back on the bed.

“The tour never started.”

“And it won’t, not this night.”

“Are you really going to allow our first argument as a couple to be over a stupid pair of pants?”

“This is our second argument. The first was when you awoke and realized I’d kidnapped you.”

“Oh, yeah.”

He placed his hands behind his head, waiting her out. She was a curious one. She wanted to explore. She would give in. The sound of her clothes rustling reached his ears. He grinned. He knew she’d give in.

Even now she was moving over to the dresser to search for something else to wear, something more suitable for a mate. Something that wouldn’t lead to him bruising his males for staring at her.

Silver was just about to sit up when he felt her hands on his knees. What the hell? He raised his head and glanced down to find her on her knees in front of him. She rubbed her finger over the zipper of his pants, licking her lips as she did so.

“Malia,” he croaked. What was she doing?

“Remember what we did earlier?”

“How can I forget?”

She leaned forward and kissed his zipper. His hands balled into fists.

“I remember,” he told her.

“Did you like it?” She whispered.

“It was the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“And do you want it to happen again?”

“Yes,” he groaned. Right now. Every day.

“Then I suggest you get up and take me and my hip hugging jeans on a tour.” Malia stood up and walked over to the door. “Come on, or you won’t come on me, again.”

“That’s blackmail.”

“You kidnapped me. Fair is fair.”

Damn, he should be pissed. Instead, he found her audacity attractive as hell.

“You win.” He strode over to her, resisting the urge to fix himself in his pants. “But after the tour, I want some more of what we did earlier.” Silver pushed a strand of hair behind her ear.

“So do I.”

Silver opened the door, eager to get this tour over with. When she stepped out in front of him, his eyes strayed to her hips. Damn.

“Are you sure you don’t want to change?”

“I’m sure.” She strode down the hall staring at the ceiling of the ship.

“Or at least put on a longer shirt.”

She tugged on the edge of her shirt that barely covered the top of her jeans. Her tug did nothing to help.

“This shirt is fine.” She stared over her shoulder at him. “Come on,” her grin was contagious. “I’m ready to explore.”

He would allow her to wander the ship in those jeans today. But as soon as they touched down on a station he was buying her more clothes, bigger clothes.

Buy links:

Amazon US: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01LZJG2P3
Amazon UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B01LZJG2P3
Amazon CA: https://www.amazon.ca/dp/B01LZJG2P3

Author bio:

Hi, my name is Siren Allen. I’m a writer and lover of all things supernatural and romantic. I reside in southern Mississippi where I write steamy romances that are guaranteed to make you blush. When I’m not listening to the characters in my head and jotting down their adventures, I am busy working as a Clinical Laboratory Technician.

I love to travel, preferably with my husband, so he can do all of the driving. I enjoy time with my family, who are just as silly as I am. My hobbies are reading, writing and shopping, though I hate trying on clothing. If I wasn’t a writer or a Laboratory Professional, I would probably be a Secret Agent. But that’s the beauty of being a writer; you can create your own world and be whoever you want to be. In my imaginary world, I am Queen and my siblings are my minions.


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