Showing posts with label Less Than Three Press. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Less Than Three Press. Show all posts

Monday, April 18, 2016

Pride Promotions presents Red Ruby Booty Shorts and a Louisville Slugger by Lexi Ander and a giveaway!




Author Name: Lexi Ander

Book Name: Red Ruby Booty Shorts and a Louisville Slugger
Series: I.O.N.
Book: One

Release Date: March 2, 2016

Blurb:

Eager to escape the shadows of a tragic loss, Diego built a new life with his best friend, Beck. When he finally decided one night to admit that he's in love with Beck, that new life takes a new, hot and happy turn. But happiness is easily shattered, as he's learned all too well, and this time it's ruined by the arrival of a mysterious package and then men bent on violence.

Memories of a dead brother and an untouchable drug lord rise inevitably to the surface, and Diego dreads that the man he loves is mired in the world that Diego tried to escape. But Beck's secrets aren't so simple, and neither is the world in which Diego has been living...


Pages or Words:50,000

Categories:M/M Romance, Paranormal, Romance, Urban Fantasy

Excerpt:
Diego walked the dreaming. Not the normal everyday imaginings of deep sleep, but the type of dream his abuela whispered of, where the veil of time drew back to show him the future. Unlike a normal dreamscape, where the colors were flat and the people one-dimensional figments of his imagination, here in the dreaming he’d one day be able to walk the scape as events unfolded around real people.

He was barely twelve years old and this was his very first dreaming. Abuela would be proud, and even though he wanted to run and tell her, he had to put his enthusiasm aside and do his duty well. Until the veil dropped back down, he wouldn’t be able to pull away from the dreaming. But why would he want to? This was a blessing from the Gods. His responsibility was to watch and learn, but more importantly, he had to remember.

A heavy fog caressed his skin as the mist slid past him. The cold touch caused a shiver to work its way up his spine. He stood in a warehouse, and the concrete had a layer of grit that clung to the bottom of his bare feet. The smell of old oil burned his nose and coated his tongue. No matter how many times he swallowed, the rancid taste clung to his mouth. People clustered around a painted circle in the open area of the floor. Diego recognized many of the gangbangers that belonged to The Man who ruled their streets of East L. A. with an iron fist.

A lead ball formed in Diego’s stomach. No one looked at or acknowledged him, but they moved out of his way all the same. Diego’s toes butted up against the broad white line. The mark wasn’t painted on the floor as he’d first thought, but was chalky, like the powder used to mark a baseball diamond. The noise of the crowd unnerved him. He could see the faces of the people, mouths moving exaggeratedly as they spoke, but their voices were odd: their slow, slurred speech made the words almost intelligible. The laughter, though—the eerie cackling skirted over his skin and filled him with dread.

On the other side, the crowd hoisted someone above them. He rode the outstretched arms until he reached the edge of the circle and then they set the person on his feet inside. Diego’s brother, Hector, appeared alternatively nervous and excited as he bounced around the interior of the ring on the balls of his feet. Five years older than Diego, Hector was the tallest person in their family, just shy of five foot ten. Diego wanted to have a strong body like his brother’s when he was older, but his madre told him Hector spent too much time at the gym and not enough time on his studies to make good grades. Hector claimed he had to be strong to protect their sisters from the vatos. Diego couldn’t deny how proud he was when people stepped warily away from the line when Hector bounced close, yelling excitedly at the crowd. His hermano had a reputation for ruthlessness when he defended the familia, and the vatos had learned the hard way to keep space between them and Hector.

Something—someone—stepped into the circle, the figure blurred and wispy-thin as if they were a ghost and not a solid person. Hector halted before the apparition, his expression sobering, his pinky tapping nervously on his thigh. Who would make Hector anxious? Hector was fearless; no one scared him. Well, perhaps there was one person. The Cadillac Man. Now that Diego thought about it, the sensation pressing against his skin wasn’t caused by the crowd, but had always been caused by the nearness of the Cadillac Man.

“Hector Emmanuel Hernandez,” Diego flinched, shocked Hector had given someone his full name. Their abuela warned to never do so. Names had power and could be used against them. The raspy quality of the voice caused Diego’s hair to stand on end. “Do you vow your service unto me, do as I bid of your own free will, and will you be loyal to me in exchange for the safety of your family?”

Hector bobbed his head at each question, bouncing in place. “Yes, sir.”

Black smoke drifted from the blurred figure, the tendrils snaking around Hector’s ankles. “No,” Diego breathed. Something was wrong—he had to stop Hector. He went to step over the line and an electrical current zapped him as he ran into an invisible wall. Blue webbed lines spread out from where he frantically struck the barrier again and again, ignoring the sharp pain in his fists.

“Will you accept the gift of the jaguar, willingly submit to the way of the warriors of old?” The grating voice held an air of expectation.

Diego slammed his fist against the wall. “Hector, no!” he shouted.

“Enter your blood into the book of binding.” The apparition held out a large weathered tome several inches thick.

Withdrawing a pocket knife from his jeans, Hector sliced his palm over the yellowed pages. He squeezed blood from his fist while Diego yelled and screamed for Hector to stop. Couldn’t he feel the wrongness of this place, in the people surrounding him? Did Hector not see the darkness of the person he was vowing himself to?

“It is done.” The finality of the statement was like a punch to Diego’s gut.

He didn’t understand what happened, only that Hector had committed to something he couldn’t walk away from. The dark mist swirled around Hector, clinging to his body, stroking him almost lovingly. Without being told, Diego knew it was evil. How could Hector not sense the vileness?

The blurred figure retreated from the circle and the spectators took several steps back. Hector’s smile faltered, but he pumped his fists in the air like a prize fighter. Diego yelled for Hector to run. Something would happen. The tension of the oncoming moment caused his skin to crawl with unease. Hector stopped in the center of the ring and spread his feet, his expression scared but determined. A large jaguar prowled forward, the low growl the only warning before the cat leapt. Hector struggled as he was borne to the ground, screaming while powerful jaws clamped down on his shoulder. The jaguar planted a massive paw in the middle of Hector’s chest as it mauled him.

Diego fell to his knees, desperate to reach Hector but unable to answer his brother’s call for help. Hector fought, but Diego could see how quickly Hector’s strength left him, until he struggled no more. The feline released him, roaring in his face, bloody saliva dripping from its wide jaws. Too much blood pooled around Hector, and his head tilted toward Diego as his body shuddered. Diego pressed against the barrier, the sting no longer registering because he was too wrapped up in his grief as he watched his brother die.

“Diego.” Even though Hector whispered, he heard his name clearly, as if Hector sat right next to him. Hector’s gaze ran along the gathered crowd, eerily coming to rest where Diego knelt. “Lo siento, hermano. I didn’t mean to break my promise,” he rasped.


Buy the book:


Meet the author:

Lexi has always been an avid reader, and at a young age started reading (secretly) her mother’s romances (the ones she was told not to touch). She was the only teenager she knew of who would be grounded from reading. Later, with a pencil and a note book, she wrote her own stories and shared them with friends because she loved to see their reactions. A Texas transplant, Lexi now kicks her boots up in the Midwest with her Yankee husband and her eighty-pound puppies named after vacuum cleaners.







Where to find the author:




Publisher: Less Than Three Press
Cover Artist:Aisha Akeiu





Tour Dates& Stops:

Rafflecopter Prize: (2) $10 gift cards to Amazon or ARe

Rafflecopter Code:



Monday, September 28, 2015

Pride Promotions presents Dragon’s Eye Series: Sumeria’s Sons by Lexi Ander




Author Name: Lexi Ander

Book Name: Dragon’s Eye
Series: Sumeria’s Sons
Book Number: 5
Series should be read in order.


Release Date: October 7, 2015

Blurb:
In the wake of birth and betrayal, Ushna takes the God Ashur to Tristan in a last desperate bid to save Tristan's life—and is helpless to do anything but watch as Ashur instead buries him in a grave. Though he has no desire to go on living, having now lost Brian and Tristan, Ushna has no choice. Not only do their children need him, the mysterious Simurgh has come out of hiding and forces him to continue on—for there is much to do and little time to do it, especially with treachery and danger closing in on them from every side.


Pages or Words: 98,000 words

Categories: Fantasy, M/M Romance, Menage/Poly, Paranormal, Urban Fantasy


Excerpt:
Chapter One

**Ushna**

The God Ashur followed behind me carrying Tristan, whose body was battered and broken. The cry of our newborn pups preceded me. Their birth was supposed to be a wondrous occasion, but through treachery and lies, that was stolen from us. Instead of enjoying the happy moment, I feared Tristan was dying.

There was so much blood. The damage to his body overwhelmed my senses. I was afraid if I didn't keep my eyes on him, if I turned my back for a second too long, his Flame would slip away. We ran through the cursed caverns that wouldn't allow me to touch my wolf or feel the song of the earth. Ashur's harsh commands to hurry spurred me on faster but I had to look behind me, I had to see with my own eyes that Tristan was still with us, still fighting.

The scars… I couldn't care less but Tristan might. I vowed I would spend the rest of my life showing him how beautiful he was to me—but first we had to get him out into the open.

I glanced back. "Hurry, Ashur."

The corridor seemed much longer than when we'd come in. Glancing over my shoulder again to ensure Ashur followed closely, my impatience caused a snarl to rumble in my throat. Tristan's skin was a gray-blue, stark and sickly against Ashur's rich mahogany tone. With every passing moment, we were losing him.

"Please." I don't know if I begged Ashur to go faster or if it was a plea to the Gods to spare Tristan's life.

When we entered the darkened corridor carved from the bedrock, I heard Tristan sigh. For months, he'd been teaching me how to listen to the Earth and I could practically feel her rush to him. I climbed the stairs, my foot slipping on the wet step in my hurry to get outside.

The open air had never smelled so good, filling my lungs with the scents of life. My wolf stirred, frantic for our mate. I reached to take Tristan from Ashur, but he dodged my grasp, moving off to the side. His low voice had a musical tone as he chanted in a language I didn't recognize and next to him, a hole formed in the ground.

"What are you doing? You said all we had to do was get him outside!" Why was Ashur not singing the song for healing? I reached again to take Tristan from Ashur's arms. Tristan was teaching me the complex chant, but Ashur was Tristan's tutelary. He knew what to ask the Earth for and how. Why was he not begging her to save Tristan's life? She wouldn't say no. She'd never say no to Tristan because she adored him.

It took a moment for the haze of my frantic thoughts to subside enough to realize Ashur was talking and then another for me to process the meaning of his words. What did he mean he couldn't restore Tristan's health?

With rising alarm, I said, "You've been teaching him how to sing to the Earth. Why can't you do that now?"

Ashur dodged me, laying Tristan in the hole atop the dark loamy soil. Something eased in me seeing Tristan in contact with the ground, although the Earth didn't rush up to him as I'd expected. She never missed an opportunity to touch him… until now. Instead, I felt power build until my bones ached and the snakes on my chest writhed in discomfort.

Staring down, I searched for the source of the energy, sure that at any moment, whatever it was would show itself. My gaze continued to return to Tristan with his ruined eyed, his torso ravaged and gaping. Never had I seen him so vulnerable, so small, the very sight calling to the caretaker within me.

Tearing my gaze away, I confronted Ashur who was pleading with me. "I teach him the songs but She doesn't respond to me."

An ancient sadness shone in Ashur's visage but I didn't care. I had trusted him to save Tristan. Never before had I been filled with such useless rage. I didn't understand what Ashur was saying. Who was he talking about? The Earth? He was the king's tutelary, so why wouldn't the Earth answer his call?

Desperation rose up and I barked, "Why the fuck not?"

"Because I took the wrong side in a war, now I'm forever separated from Her."

What did that have to do with the here and now? What did it matter he'd lost something or someone? My Tristan was dying and all he could do was talk. Ashur's pleading gaze held mine and I suddenly understood. I glanced back down at Tristan, lying in a bed of fresh dark soil.

A grave.

"No! You cannot mean to do this. He's not dead!" I jumped into the hole; Tristan's single eye stared at me with clarity, despite the state of his body. His chest rose and fell with each labored breath. There was still time. I could save him.

With the strength of the God he was, Ashur wound his arms around my waist and easily hauled me away from Tristan.

I went mad.

I fought, screamed and begged. First Brian and now Tristan. How was I to stay behind? I pleaded with Ashur to allow me to go with Tristan. We'd travelled through the Earth together before, we could do it again. I could sing to the Earth and beg for Her help.

It wasn't too late.

Then Ashur chanted and the soil covered Tristan, taking him from my sight. I roared with fury, thrashing and clawing at Ashur's hands. I vowed vengeance for this act of betrayal. Silently, Ashur held me as I beat and wailed upon him, trying to free myself from his steely grasp. He whispered continuously, "I am sorry but this had to be done," in my ear. Tears of grief stained my cheeks and I hated him all the more because it didn't have to be like this. He had no right to take Tristan from me.






Meet Lexi Ander:
Lexi has always been an avid reader, and at a young age started reading (secretly) her mother’s romances (the ones she was told not to touch). She was the only teenager she knew of who would be grounded from reading. Later, with a pencil and a note book, she wrote her own stories and shared them with friends because she loved to see their reactions. A Texas transplant, Lexi now kicks her boots up in the Midwest with her Yankee husband and her eighty-pound puppies named after vacuum cleaners.


Where to find Lexi Ander:





Cover Artist: London Burden



Tour Dates & Stops:



Tablets of Destinies

The Tablets of Destinies are a part of the earliest Sumerian culture from when the Annu first entered the Valley between the two rivers. They are sometimes described as made of clay and other times made of bronze. Being in possession of the tablets gave your army an edge in battle and often brought the holder victory.

Originally, Tiamat possessed the Tablets of Destinies. Before Kingu went into battle against the other gods, she gave them to him. Bearing them into the conflict was supposed to increase his chances of winning and she strapped them to his chest like a breastplate saying, "Whatsoever goes forth from your mouth shall be established." Only Kingu didn't win.

There are contradictory texts about who smote Tiamat and captured Kingu. Some say Enki, others Enlil, and then finally Marduk. After that, the impression was that he who wore the tables had established the right to rule the gods. Over the centuries, many tried to steal them from whoever held them at the time. The tablets became the center of many famous battles in Sumerian times but what were the tablets, really?

It was believed they were three discs that were from the tree of life, both not from earth but having always been a part of humanity. The cylinders had holes through the middle where the user slid them onto an axle. The Tablets of Destinies represented great wisdom, holding the "fate" or the "future" of the each individual who touched them. Upon them were written the secrets of the universe. They held the past, the future, and the present and when combined with the waters of Abzu they told the fate of man.

So here's a question for the readers. If Marduk has the Tablets of Destinies, will their power allow him to keep Tiamat's children shackled? Would there be a way for Tristan to get the upper hand to do what he vowed in Surrounded by Crimson?


A huge thank you for allowing me to be a guest on the blog today! Throughout the blog tour for Dragon's Eye, I hope you enjoy the behind the scenes look at the gods and mythos, and how they play a part in Sumeria's Sons. For a visual representation, please visit my Pinterest page. (https://www.pinterest.com/lexiander1/sumeria-sons-inspirations/) During the tour I discuss the Sumerian pantheon, about who and what the Gods/Goddess are, and how I use them. Make sure you stop by the other blogs to get a complete look at the Gods and Goddess the Lycan's follow.

Also, Less Than Three Press is running a special sale on Sumeria's Sons from September 23rd  through October 7th (dates inclusive).

Twin Flames is $0.99.




25% off Songs of the Earth





25% off Dreams of the Forgotten





25% off Surrounded by Crimson




Thank you for stopping by and reading!




* * * * Exclusive Excerpt #3 * * * * 

Torn between following my pups and the need to stay with Tristan, I stood there. Jory veered away from the group, one of the newborns swaddled in his jacket. Without hesitating, he thrust the babe at me. Instinctually I took the boy from him, afraid Jory would drop him. Peering into the folds, my breath was stolen away with one look at the child Tristan and I created.

Gently grasping my elbow, Jory led me down the pathway. Vaguely I realized Juan and Michael had joined me within the protective circle of warriors; I was too enthralled with my first real look at my pup. Sure, I'd been there when they were born, but my attention had been for Tristan. My heart twisted with a new pain. In any other circumstance, I would've memorized every single moment of their birth.







Rafflecopter Prize:
1.     Prize offered: Prize offered: $20 Amazon Gift card, $20 All Romance Gift card, hard copy of Dragon's Eye, swag (pens, bookmarks)
2.     $20 All Romance Gift card, hard copy of Dragon's Eye, swag (pens, bookmarks)
3.     hard copy of Dragon's Eye, swag (pens, bookmarks)
4.     e-book copy of Dragon's Eye
5.     e-book copy of Dragon's Eye


Rafflecopter Code:

Tuesday, July 28, 2015

Pride Promotions presents Surrounded by Crimson by Lexi and a Giveaway!



Author Name: Lexi Ander

Book Name: Surrounded by Crimson
Series: Sumeria’s Sons
Book: Four
Series should be read in order for maximum enjoyment.

Release Date: July 1, 2015

Blurb:

Tristan has agreed to bond with Ushna but there is still much to do and returning to Tribe Enkidu puts everyone on edge. Tristan is being stalked like prey all the while fighting depression as he mourns the loss of Nikita and enduring a battle of wills with the Elder Council over his birthright. The pleading of his adoptive daughter only adds still more stress to the situation.

Stumbling onto a secret prison while searching for Ushna leads Tristan to risk everything to free a lost God. But breaking the tie to his Flame has more repercussions than Tristan knew and the assistance of a forgotten Goddess and a centuries old lover may not be enough to save him.





Pages or Words: 48,000 words

Categories: M/M Romance, Menage/Poly, Paranormal, Urban Fantasy

Excerpt:
Ushna was out of the car and greeting his parents before I unbuckled the seatbelt. Hami wasn't as tall as his son but he was wide, very wide, barrel-chested with a set of deltoids on him the size of small children. His dark hair was cut above the ears and I'd never seen the man without at least three days growth of facial hair. It looked good on him. That kind of scruff made me resemble a bum.

Donya was tall and lean, one of those women who had a natural sway when she walked. Her blue-black hair fell to her waist in thick glossy waves. Her skin was a deep almond, darker than her husband's or son's, and her bright, emerald-green eyes were large and expressive.

They both greeted Ushna with festive exuberance, and why not? I'd kept him away from them for a very long time. I observed them for a moment over the hood of the SUV. Hami picked his son up in a bear hug, laughing loud and boisterous. Donya took his face between her palms as she gazed deeply into his bi-colored eyes—eyes that were forever changed by me. At that thought, I wondered how they truly perceived me. My stomach rolled with anxiety-induced queasiness.

With all the grace of someone my size, I made my way into the house, leaving Ushna to his family reunion. I had hoped we wouldn't see them until after the children were born. I'd entered the home stretch of my pregnancy. Even with the ring of illusion, I had a hard time hiding my condition. Early in my pregnancy, Gregori had fashioned a ring of magic, creating the illusion that hid my continually growing stomach and constructed a normal appearance.

A pregnant male wasn't something we wanted to explain to humans. With the looming threat of assassination, if my identity was discovered, we thought it best to continue to keep my birthright a secret until after the children were born. So I'd continue to wear the illusion even though the ring wasn't much help now. The giveaway was in the walk and the way I stood. People could see there was something different by how I held my body and it couldn't be helped. I was able to hurry, in spurts, and then I lumbered like an elephant—very National Geographic.

Neesie followed me into the kitchen. She was dressed differently than what I'd become accustomed to. Gone were the combat boots, black jeans, and white tees. She wore a pale blue silk blouse, a pinstriped pencil skirt, and knee-high black stiletto boots. She appeared fierce in a whole new way.

"Why didn't you wait and greet Ushna's parents?" she asked.

With a plate in hand, I inspected the cold cuts tray that sat on the kitchen counter. I was starved and wanted something quick to eat before everyone came in. When I didn't answer Neesie, she took the plate from me and started placing fresh vegetables on it.

"I thought I'd give them some time to catch up," I finally replied. It wasn't a complete lie. "They haven't had their son to themselves in quite some time. They don't need me hanging out in the background."

Neesie pinned me with her golden-brown gaze. "That is such bullshit and you know it. What's the real issue?"

I quirked a smile at her. "You know I love ya?"

"Yes, and you're the one who called me for dating advice because you suck at subtle. Your 'hey moron, get your hands off my sister' ranked right up there."

"I can't help it if Mr. Octopus Arms was oblivious to his audience."

"Go ahead and keep playing that song because I know you still refer to him as Lonnie Fucking-Fowler. Before you walked into the house, your face turned green and you practically sprinted in here."

"Ahh, stampede!" I gave mock crowd screams. Neesie was not impressed.

"Spill, jackass." She shoved a full plate into my hands and a chair under my ass. Neesie glared at me but her expression was filled with concern.

"Fine, you tyrant. I wanted to make a good impression. I wanted to be able to show them that I am a strong partner and worthy of their son's love and devotion. But right now I'm huge, and miserable, and swollen, and hungry. Why did you give me carrots? You know I hate carrots. You're trying to torture me, aren't you? I'm an elephant, not a rabbit. I get like peanuts or something, not Bugs Bunny hand-me-downs." I threw the carrot at my cackling sister. The woman was not remorseful.

"Tristan."

I threw another carrot at Neesie before turning to see who called for me. I swallowed a curse as I faced Donya. She stood in the doorway, her large green eyes soft and liquid as she searched my expression.

"Ma'am?" Embarrassingly, my voice cracked like I was fourteen years old.

"How can we not be proud of you, son?" Donya crossed the room in a smooth glide and gently took me in her arms. "We've always been proud of you, Tristan, don't ever believe differently." Tentatively I embraced her in return and ignored Neesie's sniffles.





About the author:

Lexi has always been an avid reader, and at a young age started reading (secretly) her mother’s romances (the ones she was told not to touch). She was the only teenager she knew of who would be grounded from reading. Later, with a pencil and a note book, she wrote her own stories and shared them with friends because she loved to see their reactions. A Texas transplant, Lexi now kicks her boots up in the Midwest with her Yankee husband and her eighty-pound puppies named after vacuum cleaners.








Where to find the author:




Cover Artist: Londen Burden

Tour Dates & Stops:

27-Jul

28-Jul

29-Jul

30-Jul

31-Jul

3-Aug

4-Aug

5-Aug

6-Aug

7-Aug

Rafflecopter Prize:
1.      Prize offered: $20 Amazon Gift card, $20 All Romance Gift card, hard copy of Surrounded by Crimson, swag (pens, bookmarks)
2.      $20 All Romance Gift card, hard copy of Surrounded by Crimson, swag (pens, bookmarks)
3.      hard copy of Surrounded by Crimson, swag (pens, bookmarks)
4.      e-book copy of Surrounded by Crimson
5.      e-book copy of Surrounded by Crimson

Rafflecopter Code:



And now for the interview!!!





*waves* Thank you for having me on the blog today!!

What, in your opinion, are the most important elements of good writing?
In my opinion, the most important element is knowing how to put heart into your story. You can have perfect writing mechanics but if you can't put into words the heart that draws the reader in, then it becomes a book that is easy to put down and forget to pick back up again. When I'm reading, if the author doesn't set that hook in me that drags me along after page ten, I'll get distracted. Nine times out of ten, I'll put the book down and look for something else to read. I remind myself of that every time I sit down to pen the beginning of any story. Plot holes, bad grammar, fixing a plot arch, missing or thin world building—most everything else can be fixed through beta reading and editing. The world can be engaging and different, but if the reader is disinterested in the welfare of my characters, then I've failed.

Are you working on anything at the present you would like to tell us about? 
Ruby Red Booty Shorts and a Louisville Slugger is what I'm working on now. It's slated to re-release in September but there are several changes that I'm making to the original manuscript. It had been written for a holiday Submission call with a word count limit. It didn't qualify for the call but was accept for general submission. It wasn't on the market long before it was pulled off (publisher issues). The feedback that I received from the new publisher and editor seriously helped. Ruby Red is being expanded and the order of events rearranged. I did a lot of telling in the story, which will be fixed, and the relationship elements between Diego and Beck are being addressed. Because seriously, readers were plopped right down in the middle of the story and then sped right on through without seeing the relationship growth between the two. I'm a bit nervous about the changes because I've read the story one way for so long that I'm second guessing all of the rearranging. ^_^

How do you come up with the titles to your books?    
Sometimes I choose the title of the story before I start writing. That allows me to write incorporating the meaning of the title into the story. If I don't select the title before I begin, then usually I'll have it before I'm half way finished. That was what happened with Alpha Trine. But with Striker, I had the title before I wrote the story. That title was actually hinted at in Alpha Trine. Surrounded by Crimson was selected before I started writing the story because I knew what would happen to Tristan, but as I wrote I unintentionally wove it in to other elements of the story. The red tunics Tristan wears. What Tristan espied in the caldron. The one time I finished a story with having a title was Ruby Red Booty Shorts and a Louisville Slugger. That one my husband helped me with, taking two elements from the main character and shoving them together. But damn, it's a long title to write.

What did you want to be when you grew up?   
What did I not want to be? Imagine my disappointment when I discovered I couldn't really make a living riding horses. I wanted to be a history teacher, an archeologist, an author, a NASCAR driver, child psychologist, an author, a nurse, a football player, a choir teacher, a cartoonist, an author, beach volleyball player, a mom, and the list goes on. I hated that they said I had to choose just one occupations.

When writing descriptions of your hero/ine, what feature do you start with? Eyes, hair?
I just noticed this about myself. I start with the eyes, and I'm not sure why. Maybe because I pay attention to someone's eyes. They're so expressive.

If you had to do your journey to getting published all over again, what would you do differently?
Pick a different publisher to start with… LOL! Hindsight, I would have worked on my manuscript more, got a better handle on the mechanics, and completed the series before submitting the first book. Here lately, it feels like I'm always playing catch up on my own series because readers would like to have their story--now please. :D

Ebook or print? And why?
Both. Ebook because it's easy to store. Although I've been scared that I'll lose data and I'll have books that aren't recoverable. Some places like Amazon and All Romance have my bookshelf, but not all places are like that or they've gone out of business.
Print because I love getting author autographs. I don't care if I have the ebook, if I can get a signature I'll buy the book again. I also like print because I can easily get my friend addicted to my favorite stories just by handing them my copy. They can thank me later and hide from their spouse when they too become addicted to the author and then buy the back list.
If I really like the author or the book I will also buy the audiobook. No joke. I could have both ebook and print and still buy it to listen to. I'm a huge re-reader. So being able to have access to my favorite reads regardless of where I am is awesome. ^_^

Thank you for stopping by and reading. Good luck with the giveaway!