Desperate for Another Chapter?

LET GO MY GARGOYLE

Taming the Dragon Book 5

Four years ago, Sofia had an affair with a gargoyle. The next morning, he disappeared—leaving her with an infant.

Now he’s back, and Sofia is afraid he wants to claim the child she’s been raising as her own.

Griffin isn’t back because he wants the child. What Sofia doesn’t know is that the kid isn’t even his. He’s back because his boss told him to protect Sofia and the baby. A task he doesn’t think he’s capable of doing.

Unfortunately, the more time he spends with Sofia and her adopted daughter Penelope, the less he wants to leave.

And the more danger he’s putting them in.

Taming the Dragon series

Each book has its own happily ever after; however, it is recommended they be read in the following order:

Dragon His Heels

Hungry Like a Dragon

Dragon in Denial

Bewitching the Dragon

Let Go My Gargoyle

Did you check out chapter one in my last post? Here it is, if you want to read it first: LET GO MY GARGOYLE CHAPTER ONE

Now, ready for chapter two? If you love it, don’t worry, the book releases on June 2nd. Only six short days away!!

Chapter Two

The first thing Sofia Glycon did after dropping her drinks and screaming at Griffin was lock herself in the ladies’ room and call Clarice, her babysitter for the evening. She’d needed reassurance that Penelope was all right.

That the gargoyle who’d just disrupted her evening—and her life, again—hadn’t already stopped by and taken her baby girl from her.

Once Clarice assured her that no one had been to the house and there was no suspicious activity and that she would call if for some reason an incredibly attractive guy with a northern accent showed up, Sofia had forced herself to stay at the bar and finish out her shift.

She hadn’t had that much excitement in her life since the night she’d spent with Griffin the Disappearing Gargoyle. She supposed that when she wasn’t feeling resentful or angry—which wasn’t often—Sofia could admit that particular night had been pretty remarkable.

But spectacular orgasms came with a price. Always.

Damn, she had honestly thought she’d never see the guy again. Four years ago, he’d told her he was from Canada. A place called New Brunswick. And when she woke up the next morning and he was gone, leaving behind his very precious three-month-old cargo and no note, she’d presumed he’d hightailed it back north to his homeland. Considering what he left behind, she’d assumed he never planned to return.

Yet here he was. And in the bar where she worked as a waitress. Seriously? What were the odds? Unless, of course, he’d deliberately looked her up. Certainly possible, but why wait four years to do it?

Because by this point, she’d built up enough resentment, enough rage that she would never forgive the guy for what he did.

“You all right, cher?” Mitch, the bar’s owner, asked as he pushed through the swinging doors that led into the kitchen and storage area.

“Yeah. I’ll pay for all that glassware and those drinks I dropped.” She pulled a wad of tip money out of her apron.

Mitch waved away her offer. “Accidents happen. What caught you so off guard, anyway?”

She swallowed thickly. The story she’d given everyone had not involved her sleeping with a gargoyle and him leaving her high and dry the next morning. In fact, she’d never once mentioned to anyone that she had any involvement with gargoyles at all.

“I tripped. Somebody’s foot was sticking out.”

Mitch nodded. “That explains.”

“What?”

He lifted an envelope that had been lying next to the cash register. “This money and the note, stating it was to cover the drinks you dropped.”

She hurried over and snatched the envelope, ignored the bills, and pulled out the folded piece of paper. She didn’t even need to open it and read it; she knew it was from Griffin. It faintly bore his scent, but more than that, she could feel his magic on the note.

Please accept my humble apologies for startling your waitress. This should more than cover the expenses incurred. Consider giving her whatever is left over as a tip. Thank you. G

“I don’t want any of it. If there’s any left over,” she hastily added.

“Why not? There’s enough in there to double the tips you made tonight.”

It was tempting. She could definitely use the money. Toddlers were expensive. But— “No. Keep it. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

She almost always worked weekends because first, there were far more tips to be made than on a random Tuesday afternoon, and second, it was easier to secure a babysitter than during the week when everyone else worked too.

After bidding her boss good night, Sofia shivered as she stepped out into the cooling night air. It was September, and New Orleans didn’t usually see relief from the oppressive heat until October, at least. Yet in the last few hours the temperature had dropped into the sixties, which was chilly for a girl wearing shorts and a thin T-shirt and who had been raised in the Deep South. Even if she was a dragon.

She lived only a few blocks from Mitch’s Place, so she always walked to and from work, which meant sometimes she was striding down the street alone at two in the morning. Twice since she started working there she’d encountered some asshole human who decided she was a helpless girl. She’d simply growled and let steam escape from her nostrils, and each time, the guy had hightailed it out of there like his pants were on fire. Which they would have been had he attempted to lay a hand on her.

Helpless girl she most certainly was not.

Angry? Yeah, she was definitely angry. Especially when she reached the path leading to her front door and there was a gargoyle perched on the stoop. Stopping on the sidewalk, she snapped, “I thought I told you to get the hell out of here.”

He rose to his feet, and Sofia cursed herself for enjoying the fluid motion of his movements. Everything the guy had done four years ago had been smooth and velvety and gentle and seemingly caring. Until he left—without his infant daughter.

Now, she hated his stylish light brown hair, his thick stubble, those chocolaty-brown eyes, and she especially hated his soft, kissable lips. Oh yeah, and those abs. She hated his abs. And his biceps. And his muscular thighs. And…she hated everything about him.

Except his baby girl. Oh gods, was he really here to take her back? Because he sure as hell hadn’t wanted the child four years ago, and Sofia had become attached—for crying out loud, little Penelope called her Mommy—and she was not about to let this guy have her.

No matter what.

“You did,” he acknowledged, stalking toward her in the same way that had seduced her the first time they met. Except last time there had been a tiny infant snuggled in his big, strong arms. “But I can’t.”

“Why not? Your wings broken?” She crossed her arms and thrust a hip, frowning, deliberately trying to send him go away vibes.

“No, but I can’t leave all the same.”

Well, if that wasn’t cryptic as all get out…

The front door opened and Clarice, the young human woman who babysat for her most weekends, stepped onto the tiny porch with her backpack slung over one shoulder. She was a med student who wanted to go into pediatrics, and when she wasn’t doing rotations, she was more than happy to spend her weekends babysitting and studying.

Clarice glanced at Griffin, and her eyes flared in the same way probably every woman who saw him for the first time did. “Erm, hi.” She dragged her gaze away from his chest and waved at Sofia. “Is this the hot guy with the northern accent?”

Sofia was certain her face was turning seventeen shades of red as she refused to look in Griffin’s direction. “This is the guy I was worried would show up, yes.”

“Did you tell her I was hot, or did she deduce that on her own?” Griffin wanted to know.

Sofia ignored him. After a pause in the conversation that stretched into uncomfortable territory, Clarice said, “Well, um, Penelope’s been out since eight. She ate all her vegetables, and I gave her a bath and took her for a walk before bedtime since it was so nice out today.”

It was their usual routine. Clarice rattled off Penelope’s evening while Sofia dipped into her tips for payment. Except Griffin was also here tonight, and he had his wallet in his hand, opening the flap.

“What are you doing?” Sofia demanded.

“I take it this is the babysitter?” he asked, nodding at Clarice.

“Yeah, that’s me,” Clarice responded.

“So how much do I owe you?”

She gave him a puzzled look. Sofia didn’t blame the poor girl. For one thing, Sofia had never brought a man home after her shift at the bar, and, if she had, he probably wouldn’t be offering to pay the babysitter. Hell, few people even knew she was raising a toddler. Sofia kept a low profile.

“You are not paying my babysitter.” She strode up the walk and thrust cash into Clarice’s hand.

Clarice glanced at Griffin again and then said, “I’ll be back tomorrow at four.”

“You’re working again tomorrow?” Griffin said, looking to Sofia for an answer.

 “Thanks, Clarice. Have a good night.”

The babysitter skirted around them and headed toward her car.

“I can’t decide if I should go with you to work or stay here and take care of the child.”

Sofia stared at Griffin as if he’d just turned into a dragon, dropped to one knee, and declared them fated mates. “Excuse me?”

“I said—”

“I heard you. I just don’t understand you.”

He frowned. “Seems pretty self-explanatory. Either I go with you or—”

She slashed her hand through the air, cutting him off. “You aren’t doing anything at all that has to do with me or Penelope. All you are doing is leaving. Now.”

“You kept her name.”

“Of course I did. My world was flipped on its side plenty enough with an infant abandoned on my bedroom floor without me trying to come up with a new name for the poor kid.”

He winced like she’d slapped him, which admittedly gave her a tiny bit of self-satisfaction.

“I probably could have handled that whole situation a little better.”

Probably?” Was this man serious? Wait, it didn’t matter. She did not need to spend a single second longer thinking about him or what he did to her. With her nose in the air, she deliberately skirted around him and headed into the house, slamming the door and flipping the deadbolt.

A scant moment later, the lock twisted of its own accord, the door opened again, and Griffin stepped inside.

Sofia sighed. Gargoyles and their annoying magic. Penelope was starting to show signs of being able to create magic, although so far, she’d not experienced any sort of shifting capabilities. Sofia had no idea if that was normal, since she knew precious little about gargoyles. All she knew was that they were great in bed and they left you with their unwanted offspring when they were done.

“I want to see her,” Griffin demanded. He kicked off his shoes, dropped his bag by the front door, and moved deeper into the house.

Bringing an overnight bag was damned presumptuous of the man.

“Why now? Why are you back, four years later?”

He dragged his hand through his thick hair, setting it to standing on end. He looked like he had after their first round of rather energetic sex. Incredibly hot. Hot enough that she’d dived in for round two.

And three.

Ugh.

“I should probably explain a few things to you,” he said, taking in her tiny abode and probably finding it lacking. Well, too bad; it was hard to survive when one was ostracized from one’s colony and unexpectedly left to raise a helpless child, alone.

Sofia decided to go with honesty. Maybe it would convince him to leave. “You know, if you’d shown up six months later, maybe even up to a year, I would have been willing to hear you out. But that child has been fatherless for four years now, and I am not interested in rocking her world just because you suddenly decided to man up. You should never have left her, and as far as I’m concerned, you have no rights to her whatsoever any longer.”

He raked his hand through his hair again. She really wished he’d stop doing that.

“One thing I should have told you back then was that she isn’t mine.”

…ooooh, keep reading on June 2nd: LET GO MY GARGOYLE

Tami Lund drinks wine and writes books, often at the same time. She’s multi-talented like that. Check out her website for all the books she’s written: https://tamilund.com/

First Chapter: Sneak Peek!

The conclusion to the Taming the Dragon series is finally here.

Okay, no it isn’t. Not quite. It’s up for pre-order, but the book doesn’t release until June 2nd, so… a few more weeks.

Almost there, though.

And if you’re a fan of the Taming the Dragon series, I’m guessing you’re chomping at the bit for this one, since the last book (Bewitching the Dragon) released last September!

Usually I can write books a lot faster than this. I mean, aside from the novellas I included in two box sets (the Dark Moon Falls box sets – second one just released last week!), I haven’t released a book in eight months. And it will be nine by the time Let Go My Gargoyle releases (barely). Shoot, last year I released a book almost every month.

Maybe that’s why this one took so long. I think I overtaxed myself. I was so busy letting everybody know about those books, I wasn’t writing new ones. Well, I was trying – I wrote and rewrote this particular book four different times. I made it to 20,000 words twice before scraping what I’d written. That’s half a book! Heck, the two novellas in the Dark Moon Falls sets are both only 25,000 words. The final version of Let Go My Gargoyled ended up at 45,000 words, but really, it’s double that in effort.

And you know what? I’m pleased. I’m happy with this final version. It’s completely different from where I started. The hero and heroine are entirely different characters, even. In two of the four versions, Argyle was the main character. In another, Oliver was. And ultimately, I went with two characters you haven’t met yet, however, they are both very much (surprisingly!) entwined with the overarching storyline that’s been brewing since book 1 (Dragon His Heels).

Anyway, I hope you’ll give it a read. I have a really hard time finishing series, which was another contributing factor to how long it took to type the words “The End” on this book. Because it really is the end.

OR is it…? (Because Argyle and Oliver still need their happy ever afters, and now I’m thinking maybe I need a spinoff Taming the Gargoyle series. Hmm….)

Okay, enough of that! Let’s give you what the headline promised: A sneak peek at Let Go My Gargoyle, before it’s released to the general public. So here you go. Enjoy!!

LET GO MY GARGOYLE

Taming the Dragon Book 5

by Tami Lund

gargoyle draft FINAL

Four years ago, Sofia had an affair with a gargoyle. The next morning, he disappeared—leaving her with an infant.

Now he’s back, and Sofia is afraid he wants to claim the child she’s been raising as her own.

Griffin isn’t back because he wants the child. What Sofia doesn’t know is that the kid isn’t even his. He’s back because his boss told him to protect Sofia and the baby. A task he doesn’t think he’s capable of doing.

Unfortunately, the more time he spends with Sofia and her adopted daughter Penelope, the less he wants to leave.

And the more danger he’s putting them in.

Taming the Dragon series

Each book has its own happily ever after; however, it is recommended they be read in the following order:

Dragon His Heels

Hungry Like a Dragon

Dragon in Denial

Bewitching the Dragon

Let Go My Gargoyle

****

Chapter One

Why did the most prestigious of all gargoyle brethren have to be located in New Orleans, of all places?

“It’s a big town,” Griffin told himself as he strolled along the sidewalk, heading toward the City of the Dead, where he was supposed to meet his new boss, Oliver, at dusk. He glanced over his shoulder, his senses on high alert, but so far, he hadn’t come across any dragons.

Not that they weren’t here. In fact, this city was crawling with them. Or so it had seemed the last time he’d visited.

“I can’t believe I’m moving here,” he muttered, kicking at a clump of moss growing between two broken chunks of concrete.

A golden opportunity to join the elitist of the elite had been dropped into his lap, and all he could do was worry about running into someone from his past.

He paused next to a whitewashed stone pillar marking the entrance to the cemetery that was about to become his home for, oh, the rest of eternity.

Were these guys really so diehard that they lived as stone statues except when they were working assignments? Because Griffin would freely admit that he’d choose to sleep in a warm, comfy bed rather than perched atop a gravesite any day of the week.

Why had Oliver picked him of all the gargoyles all over the world? It was certainly the burning question of the night. And what happened if he didn’t succeed? This position was a life sentence. Did that mean Griffin would get to keep trying, again and again, until he got it right? For all of eternity?

Did that mean he’d technically never fail, ever again?

The sun dipped below the horizon and shadows stretched across the sidewalk, reaching like long, dark fingers across the aboveground burial sites.

Creepy AF.

Shaking off the willies and gripping the small duffle that contained all of his worldly possessions, Griffin threw back his shoulders and stepped into the cemetery just as the sound of footsteps hurrying down the path echoed in the dim remnants of daylight. He slipped to the side, ducking behind a massive oak tree draped with Spanish moss.

A human man strode past, heading toward the wrought iron gate, pulling it closed and threading the iron chain through the grates before snapping the lock and heading down the sidewalk, his footsteps gradually fading into nothingness.

Not that a locked gate mattered to a gargoyle. If his magic didn’t work to free him, he could, with relative ease, scale the wrought iron barrier. Or, better yet, shift into his leathery, winged body and simply fly over to the other side.

But, of course, the locks weren’t for him. That guy didn’t even know Griffin existed, at least outside of his stone form. Those locks kept the humans out after dark, which allowed the resident gargoyles to shift out of their stone forms and go about their days…er, nights.

“Okay, might as well get the initial meeting over with.” Even though he’d much rather head down to the quarter, have a drink, or twelve, and find a lovely lady to flirt with for the evening.

As long as the quarter was dragon free, at any rate. Which it probably wasn’t, so scratch that idea.

He strolled along the moss-covered path, meandering, not really trying very hard to find his new boss. He was reasonably confident the guy would find him eventually. Hell, Oliver had found him all the way up in Canada, so he shouldn’t have too much difficulty here on his home turf.

The air shifted, indicating magic was being used, and Griffin bristled.

But it was just another gargoyle. The man who transformed from a statue to tanned, surfer-looking dude and then hopped nimbly down to the sidewalk in front of him wasn’t just another gargoyle, no matter how laidback he appeared in his human form.

“Oliver.” Griffin nodded once and did not offer his hand to shake, as was the custom for gargoyles.

His new boss nodded in return. “You’ve arrived.”

“You didn’t expect me to?”

“Oh, I knew you’d come eventually. But yes, I was concerned that you might get…distracted on your way to town.”

Griffin lifted one shoulder, let it drop again. “I did delay, actually. I could have arrived three days ago. But I made a pitstop in Nashville and partied like it was 1999.”

One eyebrow lifted, but otherwise Oliver showed no emotion.

“So anyway, I’m here now.”

“I see that.”

Griffin stuffed his free hand into the front pocket of his jeans, even though he was probably supposed to stand at attention or something. Honestly, he didn’t know. He figured Oliver would put him through some sort of training regimen before he started helping to save the world. Or so he’d heard that was what Oliver’s gargoyles did.

“Come,” his new boss said, and he strode toward the closed gate.

Griffin hurried after him. “Where are we going?” That was it? That was his greeting? There wasn’t a whole lot of information in that greeting. In fact, there was none. Where was Griffin sleeping tonight? What was the training plan? Where were the other gargoyles he would be working with?

At the closed gate, Oliver reached through the slates and wrapped his hand around the lock. A moment later, the chain it was attached to slithered free and Oliver pushed the barred doors open. At his nod, Griffin stepped through, onto the sidewalk, and then Oliver replaced the lock and chain.

Without speaking, he began striding down the path running along the front of the cemetery. Griffin’s long, lean legs easily kept up. “Seriously. Where are we going?”

Griffin wasn’t a fan of surprises. He had no problem with whatever undoubtedly physically and mentally challenging preparations he was going to have to go through as a new member of Oliver’s team, so long as his boss told him what he was planning to do.

This silent walking—away from their home turf, by the way—was damned unnerving.

The farther they moved away from the City of the Dead, the more people they encountered, which also set Griffin on edge. There were definitely dragons here; he could sense them. He could see them. He could smell them. They didn’t smell bad—most of them, at any rate—but it was certainly distinct. They always seemed to have the faint scent of a campfire clinging to their skin.

He glanced around, checking out each face in turn, searching for one in particular—relieved each time he did not recognize the person who crossed his path. It wasn’t even Mardi Gras and this place was crowded with revelers. Griffin made a mental note to use his vacation time to get out of town during the Fat Tuesday celebrations.

Wait. He did get vacation time, right?

Everything he knew about this new gig could be summed up in a few sentences. It was a lifetime responsibility. Once someone joined Oliver’s brethren, they did not leave. There was no quitting, no retirement plan. The only other bit of information he knew was that relationships were strictly forbidden. No falling in love, no mating, no bearing offspring.

No problem.

That might have been the reason Griffin actually did show up today—well, and the fact that Oliver would have come after him at some point and demanded his presence. But that whole no falling in love, no bearing offspring rule held a lot of appeal for a guy like Griffin.

At the next block, Oliver hung a left and began walking away from the crowds, and Griffin let out the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

Oliver finally stopped in front of a nondescript brick building with a fenced in patio that was bustling, probably because it was September and seventy degrees instead of ninety outside.

The place also reeked of dragons.

“Seriously?” Griffin burst out. “We’re going to a bar? And why this one?”

Oliver canted his head. “You seemed like you were getting nervous back there, where it was more crowded.”

It wasn’t the crowds, per se—okay, yeah, he wasn’t a fan of crowds in general—it was the chance of running into a dragon he knew. Rather, had made an acquaintance once, four years ago. But he’d not left a positive impression, and he’d really rather not have to face this particular dragon ever again.

“Why are we going to a bar anyway?” Griffin repeated.

Without answering, Oliver reached for the door and held it open. With a resigned sigh, Griffin stepped into the dim interior.

It was a small place, clean and simple. Miniature lights hung above the bar, and there were huge, framed shots from various New Orleans Saints football games on the exposed brick walls. Double doors leading out to the patio were wide open, giving him a glimpse of mismatched outdoor furniture, most of which was occupied by…dragons.

Everywhere he turned, there were dragons. Hell, there wasn’t even a witch or a human in the vicinity. No, wait, there was one. A witch, bellied up to the bar, putting back shots like she was in a competition with the dragon next to her.

“What is this, the dragons’ version of Cheers?” he muttered. He was still carrying his duffle, too, which made him even more self-conscious. Who the heck carried an overnight bag into a bar? He hunched his shoulder, as if that would somehow make him invisible.

It’s a big city, Griffin. The chances of running into one particular dragon

Oliver snickered and clapped him on the back. “Outside or the bar?”

“Neither,” was what he wanted to say. Instead, he shrugged.

“Outside it is.” Oliver headed that way. “Might as well take advantage of the less than 100 percent humidity while we can.”

They stepped out onto the patio, and several dragons eyed them like they didn’t belong. Which they didn’t, not that Oliver seemed to notice. Or maybe he didn’t care. There wasn’t frostiness in those gazes, simply…curiosity.

Dragons and gargoyles didn’t often interact. They didn’t have a need to. Gargoyles existed to protect others, and there were few dragons who could not take care of themselves. Breathing fire was a handy trait to possess.

He followed Oliver to a brick firepit built into the center of the space—seriously? Did it even get cold enough in this town to warrant a fire?—and they claimed the remaining two unoccupied chairs.

A moment later, a waitress hurried through the door, balancing a tray full of drinks on one hand. She had bronze skin and dark hair that was piled on top of her head in a messy bun. Her eyes were wide, almond-shaped, and surrounded by thick lashes. Her mouth was coated with shiny gloss. She wore a black T-shirt with the bar’s logo in gold stamped over her right breast, and jean shorts under a black apron. Her shapely legs went on for miles.

She was, in a word, gorgeous.

Griffin slouched in his seat and wished it were cold so that he were wearing a jacket and could attempt to hide in the collar. Because, son of a bitch, the very dragon he’d intended to avoid was about to ask him for his drink order.

“How about we go somewhere else?” he suggested to Oliver, who ignored him and lifted his hand to draw the server’s attention.

She nodded at him, and Griffin knew the second she realized he wasn’t a dragon, because her nostrils flared and her eyes widened. Then her attention shifted to the guy sitting next to Oliver.

To him.

Her mouth fell open and the tray slipped from its perch atop her palm and nine different alcoholic concoctions crashed to the cement.

The dragons closest to her jumped out of the way to avoid being hit by flying glass and liquid; a chorus of groans went up all around them.

Ignoring the mess at her feet, she stabbed her finger in Griffin’s direction and shouted, “You! Get the hell out of this bar. In fact, get the hell out of this city. No, the state. Get out! Now!” Her voice rose with each word.

Griffin scrambled to his feet and scooped up the duffle he’d dropped next to his chair. Oliver stood, and they both backed toward the gate that would deposit them out onto the sidewalk.

“Go!” she screamed.

Griffin practically fell over the swinging gate in his haste to get out of the vicinity before she started breathing fire at him.

Once they were well off premises, Oliver clapped him on the shoulder.

“I see you’ve already met your first assignment.”

Keep reading… well, on June 2nd! >>>> Let Go My Gargoyle

Tami Lund Headshot 2014

 

Tami Lund writes contemporary and paranormal romance and clearly has a love of dragons. And gargoyles. Oh, and wine. Check out the rest of her books here: https://tamilund.com/

Dragons! New Covers! Dragons!

So I wrote these books. They’re about dragons. Well, when I decided to write the very first book in the series, it didn’t necessarily have to be about dragons. Because it was written as part of a multi-author, over-arching series, the criteria was as follows:

Shifters and alpha dads. Oh, and of course, the happy ever after goes without saying (although I just spelled it out, so I suppose it did need to be said. Or at least, I made a decision to clarify. Wait, I’m totally getting off topic…)

Anyway, that’s it. That was all I had to ensure was in the book. Shifters – easy. Alpha dads – well, not especially my norm, but I knew I could do it. I mean, I’ve written plenty of alpha heroes in my day, but I’ve written just as many betas, and I have equal love for both of them. It was really the ‘dad’ part that wasn’t my typical trope.

But hey, I love a challenge, and I especially love flexing my writing muscle. Plus, generally speaking, vague–very, very vague–criteria tends to make my muse stand up and siiiiiiiiiing.

For example: Two years ago, I wrote a novella called Baby, I’m Home. It was supposed to be part of a Father’s Day anthology. The criteria: the hero finds out he’s a dad. (So I suppose I had a tiny bit of history writing heroes who are dads.) That was it. What I wrote: an interracial surprise pregnancy romance that, personally, I think is totes adorbs (oh, and steamy too!).

Another example: I took a writing class in which the instructor said to write a book with a unique secondary character. Boom. The Twisted Fates series, one of my personal faves of every series I’ve written, was born. The unique secondary character? A snarky, yet wise, cross-dressing Fate (basically, a magical protector) who is the shape and size of an NFL linebacker. Who quite possibly steals the spotlight several times throughout the three-book series.

And another example: Vampires! As of 2016, I hadn’t yet written about vampires. I’d thought about it plenty, but no story ideas came to mind. I knew readers loved their vampires, but I just didn’t have a muse who liked to hang out at night, drink blood, and could burn to a crisp during daylight hours.

And then a fellow author suggested a multi-author series called Blood Courtesans. The vampire hero needed to be alpha (of course) and the idea was that there were these brothels that catered to vampires, offering blood and sex for cold, hard cash. But of course the vamps had a habit of falling in love with their courtesans. Two books, Resist and Eternity, were born from this basic, um, plot.

Oh, and let’s not forget Mirror, Mirror. That one resulted from a publisher’s call for novellas about urban legends. So I wrote a (funny) story about the Legend of Bloody Mary.

Well, that was a very long and not exactly related introduction to the new covers for my Taming the Dragon series.

That’s right: the Taming the Dragon series has NEW COVERS! As I mentioned above, this series started out as part of the Bad Alpha Dads series, which, as the name implies, is a multi-author series about alpha heroes who happen to be dads (whether they know it or not).

I wrote the first three books in the series accordingly, and then the fourth I gave a bit of a twist (uh-uh, not gonna tell you; you have to read Bewitching the Dragon to find out what I’m talking about). By the time I started working on the fifth and final book in the Taming the Dragon series, the Bad Alpha Dads series creators had announced that the series was coming to an end in 2020. So I figured the last book didn’t need to have those same elements (alpha hero, dad), and also I mentioned all the way at the top of this post that writing heroes as dads wasn’t exactly my forte.

And yet, somehow, the whole dad thing ended up in book number five anyway.

Well, sort of.

Anyway, the series has now been written. Book five is with the editor. Publication date is June 2, 2020. And… I HAVE NEW COVERS.

For the entire series.

So, finally, the point of this post. To show you the NEW COVERS!

What do you think???

Oh, in case you want to check out the books too: Taming the Dragon series 

Dark Moon Falls 2 cover

 

Tami Lund has a new book coming out soon!

Dark Moon Falls Vol II

Meet Nathan D’Azzo from The Protector!

I have been having so much fun with these character interviews! It’s such a pleasure getting to know the heroes that my fellow authors create for all of us readers to fall in love with. Over on my personal blog, I’ve been interviewing the heroes from the Dark Moon Falls boxed set, which is coming out in May, however, today, I have the pleasure of introducing you to Nathan D’Azzo from Nancy Weeks’s brand spankin’ new release, The Protector.

((PS – The Eyewitness, book 1 in this series, is FREE right now!!))

Eye Witness Cover

Okay, now that you’ve grabbed book 1, let’s chat with Nathan, the hero from book 3!

Bonus, today, both Nathan and his author, Nancy, stopped by to chat with me!

Author: Nancy C. Weeks

Title of Book: The Protector, Book 3 The D’Azzo Family series

Character Name: Nathan D’Azzo

Is this the hero/heroine/antagonist? Definitely the hero!

Tami: Nancy, please tell us a little yourself, what you write, and your guest.

Nancy: Hi Everyone!

We are thrilled to be here today. Thank you, Tami, for hosting us. I grew up in south Texas in a large family. I wanted to write stories most of my life. It took me until my youngest child was filling out college applications before I sat down and wrote my first chapter. That was almost ten years ago. I write romantic suspense because that’s what I love reading. A reader once described my books as “riveting tales that promise a wild ride, but in the end, a very sweet romance.” That’s become my promise every time I sit at my laptop to write.

I would like introduce my favorite hero to date, Nathan D’Azzo, from my new release, The Protector, Book 3 of The D’Azzo Family series.

 

Tami: Welcome! Nathan, tell us about yourself. Do you consider yourself your author’s muse or bane of her existence?

Nathan: Hi all. I’m a police detective and work with a couple of Nancy’s other heroes, Jared and Adam McNeil from her Shadows and Light series. I think for my series, I was definitely her muse.

Nancy: And I was the bane of his existence. I didn’t just give him a crazy journey in his own story. I did this unthinkable thing and he had to deal with it in chapter 2 of book one, The Eyewitness (which is FREE right now!), his youngest sister Emersyn’s story. And since he’s the oldest of the D’Azzo siblings, I needed him for his other sister, Tessa. I tried to write The Analyst without him, but it just didn’t work. He had to be there, and I wasn’t very kind at all to him.

Nathan: All’s good. I’m Joe D’Azzo’s son. He expects me to look after my sisters.

 

Tami: It sounds like you are holding onto a lot of secrets. I guess that’s good thing. What do you think readers will like best about you? Worst?

Nathan: I’m crazy in love with the heroine, Olivia Bennett. I think that’s what readers will like best about me. When I love, I’m all in. And, our love is a lifetime and beyond kind of love. But it took me a while to see Olivia for who she was. I used her, in the worst way, but at the time, I thought she was part of the unthinkable thing Nancy mentioned. My heart was there from the beginning. I had to put my feeling so hold until all my whys were answered. Olivia forgave me. I’ll still spend the rest of our lives making sure no one ever hurts her again.

Tami: Wow, how romantic! Okay, let’s get serious for a few moments… Favorite beverage?

Nathan (chuckling): Dr. Pepper. My first can is usually at 6:00am. I try to restrict myself the rest of the day, but it’s a morning, noon, and evening drink for me. Why folks choose coffee and tea over DP is beyond me.

 

Tami: Fair. Okay, how about this one: Vegetarian or red meat?

Nathan: Red meat, and rare.

 

Tami: My kinda guy. Do you sleep in pajamas or in the nude?

Nathan: While undercover, I sleep in whatever I was wearing during the day. Now…we’re newlyweds. Use your imagination.

 

Tami: My imagination is definitely going haywire. Lights on or lights out?

Nathan: Depends where we are.

 

Tami: Is it getting warm in here? While we’re heating up, tell me about your love life.

Nathan: From the beginning of The D’Azzo Family series, I was deep undercover. My life was dangerous. I would never put a woman through that kind of relationship. It would be so damn unfair to them. So, no ties at all until Olivia. She was part of the job. I just couldn’t keep things from getting personal.

 

Tami: Awww. What’s your favorite place to seduce Olivia?

Nathan: Everywhere…within reason, of course. And it’s not only me. Olivia can be very creative.

 

Tami: If you could rewrite one scene in the book, what would it be? How would you rewrite?

Nathan: I would have loved that our first time was on a real bed. It’s not like I didn’t completely love it, but…really, Nancy? I’m dying to tell the reader where we were. But I promised no spoilers.

 

Tami: Well, hell. Guess we have to read the book to find out, and I’m definitely curious now. Tell me this, has Nancy ever put you into an embarrassing situation? How did you handle it?

Nancy: Can I answer this one? I just have to say, his cover was very important for the entire series. And it was crazy hard coming up with a look that would work. So I got a little creative…

Nathan: You gave me baby-crap yellow hair in book 2 and made me live with it to the end.

Nancy: That’s not true. I fixed it earlier than that.  Olivia loved you anyway. So, there you go.

 

Tami: Is there anything specific in this book of which you are particularly proud?

Nathan: Hands down, the way Olivia saved my life.

Nancy: Yeah, that was my pick too. You both were pretty incredible, and that’s all I can say without ruining the fun for the readers.

 

Tami: Would you like to add anything else?

Nancy: Nathan was a joy.

Nathan: As were you.

Nancy: I’m having a hard time letting this couple go. I miss the whole D’Azzo family. I wish I had more time with them, but they belong to the readers now.

Tami, thank you again for having us. If anyone has any questions, please don’t be shy. Ask away. In the meantime, enjoy my Free Chapters Download from The Protector. One final note, each book in this series is a standalone, but I highly suggest the reader read it in order. The Eyewitness, Book 1 will be FREE March 4 – 9.

Hugs to all,

Nancy C. Weeks and Nathan D’Azzo

 

The Protector, Book 3 The D’Azzo Family

Amazon– Free on Kindle Unlimited

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To learn more about Award Winning Author, Nancy C. Weeks, start here:

Nancy’s Website

Nancy’s Newsletter

Nancy’s Corner on Facebook

Nancy’s Facebook Author Page

 

 

 

Tami Lund writes, blogs, drinks wine, and falls in love with book heroes, all day, every day.

https://tamilund.com/

 

 

Baby, I’m Home & Now I’m Available Almost Everywhere

Once upon a time, I wrote this book I titled, Baby, I’m Home. It was supposed to be part of a Father’s Day anthology. But the antho fell through only a couple of months before it was supposed to be published. The book had already been edited, and, frankly, I loved this story, so I decided to publish it on my own.

I reached out to a cover artist, and asked my editor to have a look at it (it was originally edited by the group who was supposed to publish the anthology) because I trust her opinion explicitly, and if I’m going to put this thing out into the world on my own, I wanted to ensure I did it right.

And when it was all said and done, this adorable story was published on May 29, 2018.

Baby, I'm Home

I chose to enroll it in KU because the series I wrote with Misti Murphy (the Sexy Bad series), as well as my Detroit Mafia series, do pretty well in KU.

This book didn’t.

It definitely sees more book sales vs. page reads. Which means it’s time for a change. If book sales are where it’s at, then let’s make sure I’m maximizing those sales, aka, making it available to as many people as might possibly want to read it.

Which meant it was time to say bye-bye to KU and helloooooo iBooks, Kobo, and Nook.

So yeah, if you read on your iPhone (like I do) or you have a Nook or the Kobo app or whatever other way you read, you can now enjoy this super cute, totes adorbs surprise baby book.

Oh yeah, and it’s only a buck ninety-nine. (Here’s a LINK) If that isn’t enough incentive, here’s a little teaser:

“So am I taking you to your parents’ house or…?”

“Hell no.” He tapped her abdomen with his pointer finger.

It was weird when a woman was pregnant; complete strangers tried to palm her belly in elevators and in restaurants. And Lord help her when dealing with the elderly women in her office. She hated it, every second of it. And here she was with Chad, wishing he’d never take his hand away.

“I think we need to go back to your place. Clearly, we have a lot to discuss,” he said.

“Your parents aren’t expecting you to go home?” The first time Chad had introduced her to his hoity-toity parents, they had been on their way to golf thirty-six holes and were dressed the part. His mom had looked down her nose at Jenna’s complexion and said, “What a fascinating skin tone.” And now it was entirely possible their first grandchild would have that same “fascinating” coloring.

“First of all, they’re still in Scotland. They’re trying to figure out what to do with the estate now that Gramps is gone. And don’t you think I deserve a little time to wrap my head around this before we announce it to the rest of the world?”

Yeah, probably. Although it was too damn late for that, and yes, she’d have to suffer the guilt for that one for the rest of her life. “Considering, as you put it, I’m so big, I should probably warn you that the rest of the world already knows. At least, the part that has come into visual contact with me for the past few months.”

“I didn’t mean it like that. And besides, you’re the one who texted and said you had a ‘big surprise’ for me.” He cupped her belly again, as if the action was helping him come to terms with this reality. “I admit, this was not even remotely what I was thinking.”

“Oh yeah? What were you thinking?”

“Ironically, much smaller. And lacy. And red.”

She laughed. “There may still be red and lacy in my wardrobe, but I can assure you, there is nothing whatsoever small at the moment.”

“Well, you look great. Is that the wrong thing to say?”

Smiling, she shook her head. “No. And thanks.”

Now are you ready to read? Here’s the link, to help you out: Baby, I’m Home

Baby, I'm Home

Tami Lund writes practically everything from surprise baby romance to romantic suspense to romcom to paranormal, including dragons, witches, vampires, and the like. Chances are, you’ll enjoy at least one of her books. Probably a bunch of them. Here’s her website: https://tamilund.com/

 

Attn: Shifter Lovers!

Happy new year! Welcome back to Love, Lust, and Laptops! First, I want to say thank you for reading my blog posts every couple of weeks. Second, I want to let you know that this particular post is all about free stuff, specifically books and associated swag. Specifically books about shifters. So if that’s your thing, keep reading…

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I’ve teamed up with 11 other authors to bring you free shifter books all year long! You’ll get a free book each month–a book that’s free just for the book club! If you want to learn more and sign up, visit the book club site here:  https://www.alphaobsession.com/

PS – the (free) January book is:

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I’m also writing in a shared (shifter) world called Dark Moon Falls, and we have a book coming out in May (and it’s only 99c while on pre-order!). Check it out HERE.

Additionally, you can enter to win an iPad 10.2 inch from the authors of Dark Moon Falls, Volume 2! Over $1,000 in prizes and freebies!!!
*No Purchase Necessary! Click HERE or click the pic below.
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Happy reading & good luck! ~Tami Lund

PS – Check out my website for a whole lot of reading material: https://tamilund.com/

It’s My Way & I’ll Write If I Want To

I admit it, my writing process is a bit…odd. That’s as good a word as any.

Actually, that’s probably the best word to describe my process of getting those jumbled thoughts out of my head and onto my laptop. And, eventually, published, so you can enjoy the end result.

I’m sure you’ve heard of the pantser vs. plotter debate. It’s as old as the idea of being a published author. And it’ll probably never go away.

Simply put, it’s someone who plans out their book before they start writing, versus the writer who figures out their plot as they type.

Some people feel very strongly that one way is better than the other.

(I’m not one of those people.)

Others claim you can be a mix of the two. As it turns out, for me, anyway, these ‘others’ may be right.

I’ve always insisted that I am 100% a pantser; no ifs, ands, or buts about it. I have far too many outlines without actual books taking up space on my hard drive to deny the cold, hard facts: If I outline a book, it will never get written.

Seriously. Here’s an example: There’s this heroine who’s an attorney and hero who’s a mechanic and also a single dad love story that I’ve had in my head for years. It’s probably been least five, maybe more. But when it first hit me (and they do, seriously; these ideas come out of nowhere and rarely at convenient times), I had way too much else going on to drop everything and start typing away. But the basic premise (the heroine is actually his ex-wife’s attorney and his kid gets kidnapped and she helps him find the little boy and of course they fall in love in the process) wouldn’t get out of my head and I really, really wanted to remember to write this damn story.

So I did a quick outline. I had every intention of returning to this book, after I’d cleared everything that was currently on my desk.

And what did I say? It’s been five years? I still think about this book, pretty regularly. And maybe, someday, I actually will finally get around to writing it.

In the meantime, I’m busy writing all those books I’ve not outlined.

But wait, I mentioned above that I may very well be a mix of these two contradictory writing processes, remember? So, after that example I gave above, what the heck am I thinking?

Stay with me, I promise, it makes sense. No, no, I don’t promise that, because honestly, not much of what I do makes sense to anyone but myself.

Okay, let’s get back to why I think plotting actually sometimes helps me, despite all the evidence against this idea.

See, I am a pantser. An idea will pop into my head, maybe an opening line, maybe an opening scene; sometimes even the end of the book. I’ll stew over this idea for a while. Usually a couple of days, until I have a reasonably large block of time with which to sit down at the laptop and start banging on the keys.

And then that’s exactly what I do: I sit and write. The research happens as I go. Names, often I use “X” or “Y” until something strikes me as appropriate. I’ll have six tabs open on my internet browser, as I verify locations and situations and of course spellings of words (I’m a notoriously bad speller) as I’m pouring my heart and soul into this book. I can hammer out 20,000 words in a weekend, if the idea is that insistent and I blessedly don’t have real world expectations of my time.

But sometimes, that doesn’t happen. Sometimes, the ideas are there but I can’t seem to type them on the screen. My hands hover over the keyboard, the curser flashing on a blank page. Usually that happens when I’m stressed out. Too many constraints on my time, courtesy of the real world. Or maybe it’s been far too long since my house has had a thorough cleaning and I can’t concentrate for all the dust bunnies collecting in the corners. Or maybe I’ve been under the weather with a cold or everyone’s favorite visitor – Aunt Flo. Whatever the reason, there are plenty of them, and sometimes they really do create writer’s block. Which is frustrating as hell because damn it, the ideas are there!

That’s when my concept of plotting comes in handy.

For example, last spring, I was invited to be part of a boxed set called Dark Moon Falls (wanna read it??? Click HERE.). Twenty-thousand words minimum. All authors must write within the same shared world. It takes place in the Pacific Northwest. Here’s a list of characters who live in the town that can show up in everyone’s books. Pick one of these and give him/her a happily ever after or make up your own. Here are the basic parameters.

Boom.

Close enough to the concept to call it plotting, as far as I’m concerned.

And guess what happened? I was hit with a story idea so strong, I had no choice but to ignore everything else in my life and furtively pour it from my brain into the computer. And when I got the first round of edits back from my editor, she said it was the best one I’d ever written.

Obviously, there’s something to this pantser/plotter combo mindset.

At least, for me.

Tami Lund writes books, always via pantsing, although sometimes she uses a vague form of plotting that might not be called plotting by anyone else. But hey, whatever works, right? Here’s her website, so you can check out her books: https://tamilund.com/