Posts tonen met het label Excerpt. Alle posts tonen
Posts tonen met het label Excerpt. Alle posts tonen

vrijdag 16 september 2016

Excerpt Reveal: Loving Amber by Roya Carmen





“I can’t go on with him when all I can think about is you,” I finally confess. “I need you out of my life.”

Silence fills the room. All I can see is him, so close to me. He doesn’t look at me—his gaze lingers on my dress, those long lashes hiding his emotions. I don’t know what he’s thinking. His breath is hot on me, and I want more. He presses a hand softly against my hip and melts me to my core. I want him to say something. I want him to tell me he doesn’t want to see me with David. I want him to be angry, to feel something.

But he’s so damn calm.

Until…

Finally, he looks up at me, his gaze slowly reaching mine. In his eyes I see anger, hurt, and… desire. He raises his hand to my cheek and touches it. So softly I barely feel it. He runs his free hand through my hair and tugs at my clip, pulling my hair. It hurts, but it also feels so good. He throws the clip to the floor. His fingers are feverish when they get lost in the tangles of my hair. With one hand on my hip, the other twisted in my locks, he presses me hard against the door. His mouth—heated, rough, and wild—lands on mine.

My entire being surrenders to him. He’s so powerful. One press of his hot wet lips and I abandon all my plans. I want to live this moment. If just for a minute, for a second.

I need him.

I open my mouth, wanting more. He tastes like beer, but I love it. I reach for his face. The rough feel of his unshaven jaw scratches my palm. Still, it’s not close enough. I explore further. I want more of him. My hands travel up and get tangled in his soft hair as we deepen the kiss, our mouths hungry, desperate. He grabs my ass and hikes me up as his hips push into me. He growls softly when I bite his bottom lip gently. I feel us falling. Out of control.

I came here to end this, and it’s only brought us closer. To this moment. If we do this, we can’t go back. We need to stop. I know we need to stop, but I can’t seem to pull away. He feels so good. The heat rushing through me, the pressure at my core, the desperate craving. But if we do this, I’ll never get over him. I know it.

And I think about Maggie. What about her?

I moan as I finally manage to tear my mouth from his. I press my hand against his chest, gasping.

He catches his breath and his beautiful eyes, pooling with desire, almost draw me back in. His gaze falls. He knows I can’t do this, that we shouldn’t do this. “I’m sorry.”

Two simple words. Unneeded. I know he’s sorry. I’m sorry too. I’m sorry I came here. I’m sorry I don’t want David. I’m sorry Aiden is the one I crave. I’m sorry I’m falling apart. I’m sorry my plan is in shatters. “I should go.”

He studies me for the longest time, his eyes taking me in wholly: my heavy eyes, my trembling lips, my wandering hands—I’m still touching him. I can’t seem to pull away.

He reaches for my hair, and slowly, softly, he pulls it behind my ear. Then he leans into me, his breath hot on my neck, and he presses his mouth there, sending me to heaven. “I don’t think you really came here tonight to end things with me, Amber.”

I close my eyes, at a loss for words. He’s right.

He trails his hands softly over my hips and down the skirt of my dress. “I think you’re looking for something else altogether. I think you’re restless.” He toys with the hem of my little black dress. His hands explore under it, and the feel of his touch against my bare skin arouses me so much I can barely breathe. “When was the last time you were touched?”

His question catches me by surprise. He’s seducing me wholeheartedly. I just say, “Don’t stop.”

He slowly slips his hand higher up the inside of my thigh and reaches the lace fabric of my panties. “You look fucking amazing.”

His fingers press against my sex, and all the while, he watches me, taking in my reaction. Do I want him to go on? He knows I do. He slides his hands slowly under my soft flowy dress, and I almost melt under his touch. His fingers travel up to my stomach, teasing me. He traces soft, slow circles around my navel and makes me shiver. The sensation of his gentle fingers on my skin makes my core heavy and hot, makes my sex swell and pound. Damn.

I think about Maggie again. “We can’t… what about Maggie?”

His hand stills. “Maggie and I are not together. We were never together.”

A heavy weight seems to lift from me. “But you said…”

He fixes me with dark eyes. “I know what I said. I lied. You’re the only one. The only one I think about, the only one I want.”

I want to kiss him again. I want him inside me. I should pull away, but I can’t. I physically can’t. He can’t stop. Almost as if he can read my mind, he explores further. As his touch travels back to the inside of my thigh, I spot a hint of a smile.

He loves this.




New Second Chance standalone from Roya Carmen.

Torn by tragedy. Reunited by love.

Releasing September 26th.

Add to your TBR at: http://bit.ly/2bXvktI



Blurb

Torn by tragedy. Reunited by love.

Two years ago, I lost my husband and my brother to the same tragedy. To this day, I hold only one person responsible—Aiden Rogers, the beautiful boy I’ve known forever, the misfit I’ve both loved and hated, the one who always got to me. As far as I’m concerned, he’s the only one to blame.

Now he wants to be part of my life again—when I can finally see a future for my son and myself. I’ve found the perfect man in David, someone I can start over with, a man who will be the perfect father figure for Trevor. I have a plan. At last, I see the light, and I know I can make this work. 

I will not let Aiden Rogers drag me back into the darkness.

Author's note: contains sexual scenes and some coarse language.


This is the first book of the Riverstone Estate Series and can be enjoyed as a standalone read.


***

The Riverstone Series: A beautiful estate. Three unforgettable love stories.

Following the sudden passing of their father, Amber, Ruby, and Flynn Riverstone inherit the family estate and find themselves facing new challenges, growing closer, and discovering love along the way.








Busy mom, naughty writer, comic-addict, artist & designer, book-aholic, nature lover, and hopeless romantic.


When I’m not writing, I can usually be found hanging with my family, reading, camping and travelling, painting, yoga-ing (very ungracefully), shooting pool, or at my favourite bookstore café with my book friends.

A Northern French-Canadian gal, I now live just near Toronto where it’s much, much warmer!

For all the latest updates, sign-up for my newsletter at www.royacarmen.com or friend me on Facebook or Twitter!

Sign up for my monthly newsletter:
Twitter: @royacarmen
Wattpad: @royastories

zaterdag 25 april 2015

Excerpt: The Big Book of Bondage - Edited by Alison Tyler

Your Favorite Kind of Kink

Nobody likes bondage more than editrix Alison Tyler, who is fascinated with the ecstasies of giving up, giving in, and entrusting one's pleasure (and pain) into the hands of another. The sensual stories in The Big Book of Bondage delve into a world of unrestrained passion, revealing heart-stopping dynamics that will thrill and inspire you. While cuffed and cropped, a sub forgets her safeword in the delightfully teasing "Small Mercies," by Rita Winchester. A dominating boss takes full control after office hours in ADR Forte's surprising "In Charge," while the demanding pro in Andrea Dale's "'Golf' Spelled Backwards" coaches a better performance from her (naked) caddy one fall afternoon.

To Alison Tyler, bondage means "I trust you to keep me safe," and yet BDSM can also mean "I trust you to hurt me." Because the most important part of bondage, of dominance—of all the slippery ways one can play with those concepts—is trust. Of course, in The Big Book of Bondage, trust involves leather cuffs, collars, whips, blindfolds, belts, gags and toys.

How deliciously, devilishly twisted is that?


With contributed stories by Teresa Noelle Roberts, Rita Winchester, Donna George Storey, Thomas S. Roche, Madeline Elayne, ADR Forte, Sophia Valenti, Shanna Germain, Vida Bailey, D.L. King, Heidi Champa, Andrea Dale, Derek McDaniel, Giselle Renarde, Stella Harris, Kiki DeLovely, Lucy Felthouse, Jax Baynard, Maria See, Sharon Wachsler, Devin Phillips, Sommer Marsden, Kristina Lloyd, N.T. Morley, and Alison Tyler.


Purchasing links:



The Big Book of Bondage, edited by Alison Tyler

Excerpt from “Commuter Training” by Teresa Noelle Roberts

Daniel sends the texts to her at the same time each workday, right around the time Aileen is shutting down her computer and wrapping things up at the office. Most of them say the same thing: See you at the station. I love you.

Once or twice a week, though, Daniel adds a command.

Most often it’s the simple one: The usual.

Today, the text comes in just when she expects it. Its contents are a surprise, but not entirely.  Nipple clips and balls. I love you.

Aileen’s coworkers think she’s a pack rat, that she carries paperbacks and snacks and a makeup kit worthy of Hollywood in her voluminous red purse. It’s partly true, though she’s long since switched to a Kindle instead of the three or four books she used to carry in case of train breakdowns and other emergencies. The bag that looks like a makeup kit, however, contains mascara and one lonely red lipstick.

The rest of its secret contents, the things she takes care not to spill out when she actually puts on lipstick and mascara in the women’s room, are supplies for Daniel’s closing-time texts. A clit clip with decorative beads. Crotchless panties, ridiculous when she so often goes without panties anyway, but Daniel occasionally likes the look, and the fact that they’re slightly uncomfortable, rubbing on her pussy lips in a way that both irritates and, as a constant reminder of Daniel, arouses. A remote-control vibrating egg for her to bury deep in a cunt wet with knowing it’s under command. The remote function doesn’t have much range, so she knows Daniel will pick her up at the train station and probably take her out somewhere where he can delight and torment and embarrass her by bringing her to the verge of orgasm in public. Another vibe, this one with batteries, to use on herself before she leaves the office restroom. A garter belt, to go with the fishnets, both black and red, and outrageous black stockings with a rhinestone seam and Cuban heels—any of those might mean he’ll be taking her out to dinner, or simply that he’ll be taking her, as soon as she sets her purse down and is stripped to nothing but the garter belt and stockings. Bunny ears— that’s one of Daniel’s more unusual kinks, and one she finds secretly giggle-inducing. Still, his reaction when she walks in the door wearing them is well worth the odd looks she gets on the train. She might not understand the fascination, but she can certainly appreciate that he’s fascinated.

            The items she seeks this afternoon in the cramped white stall are silvery tweezer clips connected by a chain, and silicone ben wa balls.

Her breath catches as she takes the toys out, sets them on top of the toilet paper holder.

Her clit is already throbbing.

Acting fast, Aileen strips her sweater half-off, leaving it around her neck. She shucks her red bra and shoves it into the depths of her purse.

The restroom is warm enough that the women in the office joke about saunas and cut-rate tropical vacations
when they head there, but Aileen’s nipples stiffen as if
the air is icy.

Desire shoots through her, cuttingly sharp yet melting. Her hands want to linger on the softness of her own breasts. The temptation to draw out the caressing, to feel that surge of lust, is almost impossible to resist. Her already stiff nipples harden some more. She started getting wet as soon as she read the text and started imagining carrying out the instructions. Now, actually doing so, she’s flooding, the damp pressure of her red cotton hipsters, which she hadn’t noticed all day, suddenly an erotic torture. Aileen twists her nipples, telling herself it’s just to make sure she’s ready for the clips, and stifles a soft moan at the pleasure-pain.

No. Time presses, the commuter rail doesn’t wait for distracted perverts, and she’s lucky no one’s waiting yet for the occupied stall. Everyone wants to use the bathroom at this time of day, before getting on the T or commuter rail or beginning a walk to home.

She puts the right clip on and slides it to just the right degree of tightness, enough that she can feel it pressing snug and safe, but not so much that it will turn to agony before she gets home. Then the left. She’s biting her lip now, letting that small pain help her think through the delicious pain in her nipples. She lets the chain go then, hisses at the shock of its coolness against her heated skin. Too good. There’s no way she’s going to make it home this time without coming. One jounce of the train might finish her, and she doesn’t even have the ben wa balls in yet.


woensdag 17 december 2014

Excerpt: Tail Lights by Connie L. Smith

Title: Tail Lights
Author: ConnieL. Smith
Release date: 18th November 2014

Preston and Nick endured the breakup of all breakups when Nick accused her of cheating on him. He insisted, and she denied while the rain pounded against her driveway and thunder roared in the distance. Then they both ran – Preston to a life of Rock and Roll, and Nick to a career in the Army.

Over four years later, they’re damaged and broken almost beyond repair. He’s carrying baggage from his military days, and she bears the scars of living a lifestyle she’s grown to hate.

When Preston’s label forces her to take time away from music, their paths cross in a parking lot not twenty-four hours after her hometown return, anger and sparks flying in a confusing blend. But regardless of the feelings neither has been able to shake, too many lies and secrets stand in the way of the one thing they need in order to recover.

Each other.

Buy here: Amazon



Surprisingly, he was leaving his apartment when I reached his floor, and he smiled at me like no animosity existed between us. “Hey, Preston.”

“Hey, Preston,” I mocked, then held up the figurine and fastened a glare on him. “Take it back.”

He had the nerve to smirk. “How do you know I gave that to you?”
“Who else would leave a dolphin on my doorstep besides the guy who knows I love dolphins and wants to suddenly fix four years’ worth of betrayal?” His smirk disappeared, and I shoved the object closer to him. “Take it back.”
He shook his head. “I don’t want it back.”
“Well, I don’t want it ether.” When he arched a brow, I rolled my eyes. “Okay, it’s cute. It’s absolutely adorable, and it would look fantastic on my end table, but I can’t take this.”
“Why not?”
“Because I know what it means! You made a mistake, and you’re trying to make up for it. But it’s too late, Nick. And if I take this, it’s like saying that you have a chance to make things right, and you don’t.”
His brow again lifted. “You sure about that?”
I frowned. “Which part?”
With a grin, he shrugged in an almost casual manner, far too comfortable in a conversation that made me anxious. Evidently he’d meant what he said about mending things between us, and he wasn’t about to let my reservations ruin his determination. “You’re absolutely right about what the dolphin means, but are you sure I can’t make things right?”
“I’m so far beyond sure that sure isn’t even in my line of sight anymore.” I held the dolphin farther out, hoping that he’d take it. “I can’t keep clinging to things that weren’t good for me in the first place if I want my next four years to be any better than the last four years.”
Then he scowled. “And you think I wasn’t good for you in the first place?”
“I know you weren’t. If you were, you wouldn’t have believed Dad and dumped me, and…” Sighing, I waved the figurine in his direction. “Take it.”
“Your sentence trailed off,” he pointed out, a small smile forming on his lips. “That’s a good sign for me.” Eyes on me, he stepped closer, completely invading my personal space and causing the hand holding the dolphin to fall back against my stomach. After a moment of silently looking at me, so intense and needing, he pointed a finger at my face.
“That’s exactly why I can’t take it back,” he whispered. His finger moved to brush my hair behind my ear, trailing along my jaw before tracing my lips. I knew I should move, slap his hand away, something. But I couldn’t. I just stared, my mouth gaping in shock, my mind consumed with Nick and his caresses. “That was the biggest mistake of my life. And you are my life.”
His index finger exchanged for his thumb, outlining my bottom lip over and over. “I should’ve fought for this, and I’m not making the same mistake twice. I’m getting my life back.” Then he stepped away, gesturing at the dolphin. “That’s only the first step.” Turning, he walked to the stairway entrance at the other end of the hall, leaving me standing – still gawking where he’d been and suddenly holding the dolphin figure much tighter. 




Connie L. Smith spends far too much time with her mind wandering in fictional places. She reads too much, likes to bake, and might forever be sad that she doesn’t have fairy wings. And that she can’t swing dance. Her music of choice is severely outdated, and as an adult she’s kind of obsessed with Power Rangers. She has her BA from Northern Kentucky University in Speech Communication and History (she doesn’t totally get the connection either), and is currently working on her MA.







woensdag 26 november 2014

Blog Blitz & Review: Sanguinary by Margo Bond Collins




  • Title: Sanguinary
  • Series: Night Shift #1
  • Paperback: 294 pages
  • Publisher: Bathory Gate Press (October 5, 2014)
  • Language: English
  • ISBN-10: 0990743322
  • ISBN-13: 978-0990743323


Only fifty years left before vampires rule the world.

When Dallas police detective Cami Davis joined the city's vampire unit, she planned to use the job as a stepping-stone to a better position in the department.

But she didn't know then what she knows now: there's a silent war raging between humans and vampires, and the vampires are winning.

So with the help of a disaffected vampire and an ex-cop addict, Cami is going undercover, determined to solve a series of recent murders, discover a way to overthrow the local Sanguinary government, and, in the process, help win the war for the human race.  

But can she maintain her own humanity in the process? Or will Cami find herself, along with the rest of the world, pulled under a darkness she cannot oppose?

Buy links Sanguinary:
Amazon kindle here
Nook here
Kobo here
Paperback here



Excerpt 1

"Hey, Bradley." I beckoned the crime-scene tech, who had finally arrived and was snapping on gloves. "Is that a piece of paper under the vic's head?"
He bent down over my shoulder to get a clearer view from my line of sight. "Looks like it's tangled in her hair," he said. He pulled a pair of long tweezers out of his kit and snagged the sliver. "Yep. Looks like it has a word written on it . . ." We both peered at the brownish, spidery writing.
"Sanguinary," I said. "Is that written in blood?"
"Maybe. I'll get the lab to run a basic analysis on it. If it's blood, we'll be able to let you know pretty quick if it's human and if so, what type. DNA will take longer."
"Sounds good." I stared at the woman a little longer. Her dark hair—almost the same color as mine—spilled out around her, matted with dark, coagulating blood. The two bloody marks on her neck shone like black stars on a white background.
Vampire.
I knew that if I lifted her dress, there would be other puncture wounds all over the body, and strange symbols carved across her skin—pentagrams within circles and other ritualistic signs. Exactly like the others. Ten murders in the four weeks since the beginning of September—all centered in downtown Dallas, and many with affluent victims whose families demanded action.
The department had been in a barely suppressed uproar.
I stood up, my knees popping a little. Five years ago, they wouldn't have done that.
And five years before that? Vampires hadn't existed, except in books and B-movies. It took time for the world to believe. We hadn't even realized how to fight back when they'd first shown up. 

This victim's ragged, bloody fingernails suggested that she had tried to resist, but obviously failed.
The red dress she wore would have originally matched the color of the relatively scant splashes of blood surrounding her, but those stains had dried to a muddy brown, the same color as the writing on the paper caught in her hair.
Her clothing suggested that she'd been at the opera that evening, though the manager, roused from her bed, swore that the building had been cleared and empty when she left.
One black, high-heel shoe lay several feet away, toppled over onto its side, the heel broken, as if she had stumbled out of it when it failed her as she ran from a pursuer.
Sanguinary.
I'd heard the word before from vampires I had taken down—whispered as a threat, shouted as a warning: the Sanguinary is coming, the Sanguinary will kill you all.
The Sanguinary is here.
It was why I was about to go undercover among the vampires.



Excerpt 2:

"Ooh," the taller woman said, "your friend doesn't like it when you flirt."
I glared at her. Vampires should not know more about me than I do.
"I'll have to see that she gets over it," a voice drawled from behind me. I whipped my head around in time to see a man standing up from a barstool behind me. I hadn't even noticed he was there
God knows how I could have missed him.
He wore jeans and a dark blue button-down shirt. He had on dark brown cowboy boots, and as he turned away from the bar, he picked up a black felt cowboy hat from the seat next to him, placing it on his head. On anyone else, I might have assumed that the hats and boots were an affectation. On him, they looked perfect. He was utterly beautiful, with bright green eyes, and dark hair that curled down to barely brush the back of his collar.
I am undercover, I reminded myself sternly. Here to do a job.
When Garrett caught my gaze in his, flicking his glance toward the cowboy vamp, it was all I could do to keep from sighing aloud.
Would it have killed my partner to be a little more descriptive when he briefed me?
Of course that was the vampire cowboy I had to get close to tonight.
No making eyes at the informants, Cami.
But damn, he was hot.
"Nice scars," he said, sliding his gaze along my bared shoulder.
"Thanks," I said, almost breathless.
"But I thought you didn't do Un-Claimed strays, Reese," the short woman said, managing to both pout and smile at the same time.
And I am absolutely not attracted to vampires.
I could keep telling myself that.



Excerpt 3:

It hit me, hard, that no matter how I twisted it around in my head, Reese was going to be more than just an informant to me. I didn't know if I could trust him, this cowboy-vampire I had been thrown together with. But something about him sang to me, like a tune just out of hearing, almost recognized—a song of protection and death. And I wanted to dance to it, almost as much as I wanted to escape it.
The department wouldn't force me to stick it out, wouldn't expect me to team up with a vampire for anything more than the most superficial of connections.
I could walk out at any time.
But I wouldn't. He'd help us find and stop whoever was killing these women.
That's why I'll stay in this.
"I'll tell you everything," I said to the vampire snarling at me. "But I'll need your help."
Reese's lip dropped back down, covering the fang.
I was glad—it was easier to contemplate joining forces with him when he wasn't reminding me that he was one of the monsters.
"Talk," he said.
I shook my head. "Not here," I said, speaking quietly. How good his hearing might be was only one of the many things I didn't know about vampires.
He slid up to the bar beside me.
"We can't leave," he said, equally softly. I had to lean close to hear him.
"Why not?" I asked.
"Mendoza all but dared me to Claim you, back there." He didn't look down at me. "If I don't bleed you at least a little before we go, he'll be suspicious."
At his words, the half-healed bite mark Reese had left on my shoulder throbbed once, sending a hot pulse throughout my entire body.
I wanted the response to be revulsion.
Almost everyone who went undercover with the vamps came out addicted to their bite. The ones who could still string two sentences together, like Garrett, stayed on the force.
The others . . .
The press portrayed us as bumbling and stupid—and maybe we were. Sending detectives in against humanity's worst nightmare? We were like little kids trying to hold back the dark with matches, bound to get our fingers burned, and worse, maybe burn the house down around us.
I paused and swallowed.




Sanguinary by Margo Bond Collins is a novel in her new Night Shift Series and I have to say that I really enjoyed reading it.

Cami Davis is a police detective who has joined the vampire unit. It seems a war might break out between vampires and humans, when several humans are turning up dead and a vampire might be the killer. The only way to find the truth about these murders is to go undercover and it is Cami who is thrown to the wolves. Now the only thing she needs is a vampire who can introduce her into the vampire society and have her back.

Reeves is a vampire and an ex-cop, he knows there is something strange going on in the vampire society and he is determined to find out what is going on. So he agrees to be Cami’s vampire contact and her way in with the vampires. But neither of them could have known the huge attraction between them and the rules to be accepted by the other vampires. The price might be too high for Cami.

It’s the first book I’ve read of Margo Bond Collins and when the opportunity was handed to me to read and review this book I couldn’t say no. I love reading novels where vampires are involved and mostly those vampires turn out to be good by the end of the book, but not in this novel. They are evil to the bone, but with one or two exceptions.

I love Reeves and Cami together; from the moment they meet I knew Reeves was different from the other vampires. For some reason he’s still got a heart and really want to help Cami in her journey to find the killer and bright him or her to justice. The ending of the book was a little surprise and I’m really dying to get my hands on the next book, because I really want to know what will happen next with Reeves and Cami.





When did you start writing? What has your writing life been like?

For as long as I can remember, I’ve been making up stories. The first story I remember actually writing down was basically fan-fiction of The Wizard of Oz. I wrote it in long-hand in a yellow legal pad. I’ve been writing ever since. But about ten years ago, a friend suggested I join in National Novel Writing Month (nanowrimo.org). Until then, I had always written short stories. That year, I finished the first draft of what would eventually become Legally Undead—it will be my third published novel, but it’s the first one I wrote.

I ended up as an English major in college because I was fascinated by the ways stories work. And then I went on to graduate school because I couldn’t figure out what else to do. I ended up with a Ph.D. in literature almost by accident; I just never quit wanting to learn about all the stories in the world!

So now I teach literature and writing in my day job, and the rest of the time, I write, both as a fiction author and as an academic.


What gave you the idea for this book? Where do you write and what do you use: PC, laptop or MAC? 

Most of my ideas come to me almost in passing, when I see something that catches my attention. In the case of Sanguinary, it was a color. My husband and I have season tickets to the Dallas Opera, and the interior walls of the Winspear Opera House—the ones that separate the lobby from the theater itself—are a gorgeous dark red. As we were walking out one night, I glanced back and saw that the tint of the outer glass walls turned the inner walls to a blood-red. At the same time, I saw a woman in a dark red dress of the same color. And of course that led to thoughts of vampires and murder (doesn't that happen with everyone?! Or is it just sicko writers?)—and the story spun out from there.

How often do you write, and how much?

I write something every day, whether it’s academic writing, fiction, or my blog. I’ve recently started making sure that no matter what else I may be writing, I write something fictional every single day. “How much” varies. I aim for a minimum of 500 words a day—my average word-count for thirty minutes of writing. I generally write more than that, but sometimes I don’t quite reach it. Last night, for example, I managed to write one sentence just before I fell into bed. But I made sure to get that one sentence down so I could continue to claim that I write every single day! 


Which authors do you admire and why?

Too many to count! Because I’m a literature professor, I have piles and piles of favorite authors. Right now, though, I’m particularly fond of Neil Gaiman, Robin McKinley, Holly Black, Ann Aguirre, and Melanie Karsak. What I love about all of them is their ability to create such realistic worlds, to draw me in and keep me interested in the stories they spin out. 

I have an office that I use for all my work: academic writing, fiction writing, editing, and online teaching. My desk is against a window so I can see outside. I’m surrounded by books and papers. I write directly on my laptop, but when I get stuck, I sometimes switch to handwriting; this seems to shift my brain onto a different track and helps me get over writer’s block. 


What are you working on at the moment?

Piles of projects! I’m currently working on the next entry in my Hometown Heroes series, a contemporary romance novel. I’m working on the sequels to Fairy, Texas, Waking Up Dead and Legally Undead. And I'm working on the next Night Shift book.


What are your writing goals for the rest of 2014?

Always keep writing! I have three works in progress that I plan to complete. And I also have two others that I want to get to. So I guess that means my goals are to finish several more novels. (I’m suddenly realizing that I might be insane . . . )


Any advice for aspiring writers?

The very best advice I ever got was just this: keep writing new things. Always have a work in progress. Finish writing a piece, do a quick edit, and submit it somewhere for publication. Then move on to the next project. Don’t wait to hear back—that way lies madness! If it’s rejected (and often it will be; that’s the nature of writing for publication), don’t let it get you down. Just send it out again and go back to your work in progress.


Thanks so much for having me today!





Margo Bond Collins is the author of urban fantasy, contemporary romance, and paranormal mysteries. She has published a number of novels, including Sanguinary, Taming the Country Star, Legally Undead, Waking Up Dead, and Fairy, Texas. 

She lives in Texas with her husband, their daughter, and several spoiled pets. Although writing fiction is her first love, she also teaches college-level English courses online. She enjoys reading romance and paranormal fiction of any genre and spends most of her free time daydreaming about heroes, monsters, cowboys, and villains, and the strong women who love them—and sometimes fight them. 

Connect with Margo:
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