Take A Bite Out Of This New Release!

It’s release day!

It’s a vampire boxed set. All new stories. Full length ones at that!

Here are a few teasers to, you know, tease you….

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That’s only a few of the vampires you’re gonna meet in this boxed set.

Ready? Here are the buy links:

iBooks https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/blood-courtesans-boxed-set-awakenings/id1295300606?mt=11&ls=1&ign-mpt=uo%3D4
Kobo https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/blood-courtesans-boxed-set-awakenings-vampire-romance
Nook https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/blood-courtesans-boxed-set-michelle-fox/1127212649;jsessionid=B56C7DE2DF60AE6833263A181BFDF950.prodny_store01-atgap08?ean=2940154953662
Amazon US http://amzn.to/2zLDRMX
Amazon Uk https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B076P323DB
Amazon AU https://www.amazon.com.au/dp/B076P323DB
Amazon CA https://www.amazon.ca/dp/B076P323DB

Enjoy!!

It’s a Sexy Bad Cover Reveal!

 

Title: Sexy Bad Boss (Sexy bad Series #3) 

Authors: Misti Murphy & Tami Lund 

Genre: Contemporary Romance 

Release Day: Jan 23rd 

Cover Designer: Booming Covers 

 

 

 

 

 

James Frost is all work and no play. He’s made billions as the CEO of Frost, Inc. He can broker a deal between two pissed off Irishmen and the devil, and still walk away with a smile and not a wrinkle in his Armani suit. As his assistant, I’m faced with his dashing presence every day.

Can you blame a gal for having a crush?

So when he asks me to help him find his perfect woman, I throw myself at him. Only James Frost would never mix business with pleasure. He’s never looked at me in that way. I’m so mortified, I quit on the spot.

But a freak accident leaves him with a few broken bones and amnesia, and me with a dilemma. I’m playing nursemaid, at his beck and call, until my two weeks’ notice is up. And that raise I never thought I would get from him might be on the table after all. But how far am I willing to go before my pride demands I cut bait and move back home to London?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Misti Murphy & Tami Lund They live on opposite sides of the world, but an eighteen-hour time difference doesn’t stop these two obsessed authors. They write, they debate over storylines, they thoroughly enjoy the process of gazing at hot men while trying to come up with cover ideas, they fall in and out of love with their characters, and at the end of the day (which day is anybody’s guess), they create sexy bad books for your reading pleasure.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Cold Sores and Dry Shampoo

image of a sick little girl stock photo by Davbid Castillo Dominici

Pretty accurate description of how I looked that day.

It began innocently enough. A minor itch. A slight twinge. A little tingle. I started to fret. But maybe it wouldn’t happen this time. After all, I had gotten through other bouts of illness without developing one—maybe this would be one of those times.

Not so much.

At work, I felt the no-mistaking-it tingle that heralded the new arrival, and a look in my compact mirror confirmed what I already knew:  I was witnessing the birth of the world’s worst cold sore.

Fever Blister. Herpes simplex. It all sounds different to the ear but in the end, they are all the same—a gigantic cootie cluster on my lower lip, half an inch from dead center.

Maybe it wasn’t so much a birth as a coming home, however. After all, the only place I ever, ever get cold sores is in that very same spot. Same lip. Every time. What skeeves me out even more is the fact that despite my OCD antibacterial hand gel application efforts, despite wiping every touchable hard surface at home and at work with antibacterial wipes, despite bathing in Lysol and gargling with bleach, I got one anyway.

Thinking back, I realized that I had seen a coworker sporting a fever blister a week or two before. The “ewww” factor has been racketed up a notch.

Typically, the day before the spot actually makes its debut there is also quite a bit of pain, especially on the unique Chris Cacciatore pain scale. I’m not saying I’m a big baby but even a hangnail will wake me up at night. Throw a cold sore at me and it’s grounds for calling in sick.

The last time I got a massive cold sore was during a…you guessed it…cold. My defenses were down; I should have seen it coming. I had felt crappy all day at work, and suddenly, my entire bottom lip looked as if a chorus line of bees had stung it. That night, the pain was so intense that I was forced to start my obituary.

The next morning, surprised to find myself still alive, I realized that due to all the tossing and turning I did the night during the world’s worst night’s sleep, I had overslept.

For those who have no time for a quick shower, it’s dry shampoo to the rescue. Or so I thought.

I had picked it up on a whim, this dry shampoo. I had overheard a conversation while sitting at McDonald’s writing one afternoon. It’s normally a great place to write because you can tune everything out except this time, when two young women were talking about their hair. The conversation was animated as they discussed hair products but came to a standstill when one told the other she washed her hair daily.

The other said back, “You’ll dry your hair out! Don’t do that, girl. Use some of that dry shampoo. You won’t believe how it perks up your hairstyle on days when you are skipping a day, or maybe you’re just too lazy to wash your hair.”

What? A new way to be stylish while still allowing me to be lazy? Sign me up. I actually found some at the store on the way home. Now, normally, I don’t take much advice from people sitting in McDonald’s but due to the above referenced illness, I’m game…and since I overslept, what better time to try it?

Getting ready for work that morning, squinting through the cloud of agony my lip was causing, I read the directions and applied the dry shampoo accordingly, then brushed it out as instructed.

This is a product that I will never, ever buy again. I have a dreadful feeling it had been moved from the Halloween section of Wal-Mart into the hair section, as it obviously was meant to be used to make white stripes in my hair for a Bride of Frankenstein costume. Despite vigorous brushing, I couldn’t brush the white out and ended up with not only white patches of hair but a very pink scalp.

Thanks, random strangers at McDonald’s, for your crappy advice. Mom’s always said “don’t eavesdrop”, and I should have listened.

It worked out in the end, however, because coworkers were too busy trying not to stare at the white streaks in my hair to even notice I had a cold sore.

***

About the author:

Christine Cacciatore is a multi-published author who lives—and loves—to write. Together with her sister, Jennifer Starkman, she has published the magical novels Baylyn, Bewitched and Cat, Charmed, with the third book Elise, Evermore coming out soon. On her own, she has written Noah Cane’s Candy, a sassy holiday short romance and Knew You’d Come, a spicy paranormal romance novella. Also, Chris ventured into the Kindle Worlds Mary O’Reilly paranormal series and has written Trouble Lake and Grave Injury. They’re the perfect books to curl up with any time of year but especially Halloween…because they’re chock full of ghosts!

Chris is a member of the In Print Professional Writer’s Group in Rockford, IL and the Chicago Writer’s Association. In her spare time, Chris enjoys writing, reading, and coloring in her grandchildren’s coloring books with the good crayons. Chris is married to a devastatingly handsome man she met on eHarmony, has three children and a gigantic black dog who helps her pack lunches in the morning. She also has four of the most beautiful, intelligent grandchildren in the world, and their antics keep her in stitches.

Pregnant Women Just Gotta Deal.

author’s note: Do you like “The Onion”? Then you’ll like this.

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Remember these days? (freedigitalphoto.net, pregnant woman holding belly by adamr)

A local father-to-be is honored for the hard work he did around the house on Saturday, while his wife “just puked all day”.

Jon Rhett goes on to say, “I mean, the dishes weren’t going to do themselves, right? Some of the bowls had cereal stuck on them so they were very hard to wash. I learned you have to let those soak because I cut myself on a sharp Frosted Flake that had adhered to the side of the bowl.” He then held up his middle finger which was indeed bandaged.

It wasn’t just the dishes that he helped with, though. Jon also vacuumed the living room (“I ate the cereal in there; I dropped a couple pieces”) and also used a hand towel to wipe off the sink in the bathroom. “After I did that, I threw it on the bathroom floor and did a little foot mopping. My wife spends almost three hours a day, every day, in here doing the Technicolor yawn. You’d think she would have gotten all of the ick off the floor, at least. But no, there was still a spot or two behind the toilet. Or maybe just a misfire from the old piss-cannon. Either way, our bathroom hasn’t looked this good in months,” he said. “I just threw the hand towel I used on the floor back up on the towel rack. Didn’t want to make extra laundry.”

The two are expecting their first child in a few months. Jon said his wife, Sega, claims to be suffering from “hyperemesis gravitadarum” almost since the day she got pregnant. “Oh, sure I Googled it,” he relates. “And of course some pregnant ladies throw up a lot. But that’s usually only for the first couple of months. My wife seems to really be drawing this out—I’m starting to think it’s intentional so she can get out of housework. I mean, I get it, though. Sometimes my stomach is a little upset. Every single Saturday morning, I feel exactly the same way. I’m hungover after Friday nights with my bros. But as you can clearly see, I was still able to do some housework even though I didn’t feel well. It really is just mind over matter. Take some Pepto, am I right? Some preggos run marathons clear up until their ninth month, I read somewhere. We all just gotta deal.”

When asked if he attends obstetrician appointments with his wife, Jon laughingly shook his head. “The last time we went together, we took my new pickup. Do you know how hard it is to clean puke out of floor mats? She had to buy me new ones because even though she used toothpicks on the grooves, some things just don’t come out. It still smells in there.”

One of Jon’s bros, Charlie Pratt, submitted his name and a small story describing his momentous aid and personal sacrifice to an online contest on “Everyday Husbands”, a small Facebook group of newly married men. When the admins of Everyday Husbands called Jon to let him know he won the prize (limo service to a local steakhouse and $100 gift card to the restaurant), no one was more surprised than his wife.

Jon said, “It’s almost as if she wasn’t excited that I won something.” When asked when he planned on using the winning limo ride and dinner prize with her, he told our reporter, “You know, I’m not really sure she’s going to be up for going out to dinner anytime soon. I’ll probably invite my friend Charlie from the group; his wife is expecting triplets and I imagine he’s probably going stir crazy,” he chuckled. “We could both use a night out from our respective ball-and-chains. Besides, this is a treat for my wife too. Now she won’t have to make me dinner whatever night Charlie and I decide to go. Plus she’d probably throw it up anyway. And now she won’t have to do dishes that night either.”

We tried to reach Jon’s wife for comment on his prize, but our calls were not returned.

Vampires & New Releases

Happy New Year! I’m sure you’ll be shocked when I tell you I’m starting out the New Year with a new release.

Yeah, I know you aren’t. But that’s good, right? A new book to read. A vampire book. A vampire book with a bite. (Sorry, I couldn’t resist.)

It’s coming out on January 17, and while it’s called Eternity, it’s actually part of a boxed set called Awakenings. There are 12 novels in this boxed set; all vampires, all part of the same world: the Blood Courtesan world.

Never heard of it?

resist_blood-courtesans 

Well, basically, the heroines in these books all have one thing in common: They’ve all decided to become Blood Courtesans, generally to save themselves or save someone they love or to in some way attempt to improve their lot in life.

What’s a Blood Courtesan, you ask? It’s a human who sells her blood for a lot of money. Oh, and generally, when she’s giving over her blood, there’s usually sex involved. Steaming hot vampire sex — you know, with a bite. (I’m really bad at the vampire puns.)

The problem with the Blood Courtesans in our books is they have a tendency to fall in love with the vampires to whom they’re supposed to be beholden. Which causes all sorts of issues and drama and bad things to happen, at least until the end, which is always, always a happily ever after.

Because we’re romantic vampire lovers.

Anyway, Eternity is Abigail and Parnell’s story, and here’s an interesting tidbit about this book: It’s the second one I’ve written. The first vampire novel I wrote is called Resist, and it’s Abigail’s sister, Anya’s story. Abigail and Parnell were supposed to be secondary, background characters. I never intended for them to have their own story.

Hence the name, Parnell. It’s not my fave. In fact, if I’m totally honest: I don’t even like it. When I was writing Anya and Camden’s story, Camden needed a friend who was born over a hundred years ago in Ireland. So I researched names from that era and area and came across Parnell and thought, That sounds nineteenth century enough.

I didn’t decide to write Parnell and Abigail’s story until after Resist was already published, and of course I can’t go back and change a character’s name once I’ve hit the ‘publish’ button.

No matter how much I want to.

So Parnell it is, and no, it hasn’t grown on me, even though I’ve been working on this book for nearly a year now. About the only thing that’s happened is I’ve learned my lesson.

No matter how unimportant I think characters may be, always, always give them a name I like. Just in case.

Tami Lund Headshot 2014

Tami Lund is an author, a wine drinker, an award winner, and occasional selector of bad character names. Although she’s trying to break that last habit. Check out her website: http://tamilund.com

 

Knew You’d Come…a sample

Fellow writers will understand this–ever have that one book you wrote that you absolutely love? I mean, you love everything y41zTJz4riFL__UY250_ou’ve written, but this one has a special place in your heart.

For me, it’s Knew You’d Come. It combines several of my favorite things: time travel, ghost hunting, and erotica.

It’s on sale for $.99, or free if you have Kindle Unlimited which IF YOU DON’T HAVE THIS, WHY NOT???

A caveat…it’s racy. Even the excerpt. So if you’re in the least prudish, look away now for the love of God!

Enjoy the sample below, then click the link to head on over to Amazon and fill up that new Kindle.

Happy New Year!

Whip Daniels watched the diminutive woman with the long, platinum blonde hair unload the van from his position behind the bar. Over the long years he had been here, waiting, he had watched many different people come and go. Sometimes a group of teenagers would break in, looking for a place to hang out, smoke pot and screw. Those trespassing apparently loved having a place away from everything, where no one would catch them playing their drinking games, pin the tail on the whatever, and strip poker.

Ah, poker. It would be so nice to be able to play a good game of poker. He had been an excellent player.

He had listened in on the conversations, and over the years had become accustomed to the various generations that passed through the building. He hated the hippies, though; once they were high, some could really see him and tried to have conversations with him.

It didn’t work. He was someone who could only watch reality and not be a part of it. It was a never-ending lifetime of floating around and watching people break in with food and booze. He enjoyed the aroma of their never-ending cheeseburgers, fries, and s’mores. He watched couples have sex and heard their moans of passion, and he missed his woman badly. He desperately wanted to touch her again, see her again; yet he knew she was far out of reach, unaware of his existence. It was a special kind of hell.

He returned his attention to the little blonde. She scurried around the van, loading her arms with more supplies to bring in. He knew what she was doing; over the years various brave souls had tried to spend the night and “test” for ghostly activity so he recognized some of the equipment.

The woman hustled back and forth between the van and the saloon, dropping off her boxes, bending and stooping, t-shirt molded to her perfect breasts, jeans painted on her ass…her delicious ass…his cock stiffened.

He floated around to the front and watched her close the van doors with her foot while she juggled the final boxes in her arms.

Finally, she finished and sat down to rest for a moment.

It was about time she got here—he had almost given up on her.

He looked down at his erection. Wonder if she had a machine to measure that.