Monday, October 26, 2015

Rise Of The Sidenah by C.M. Story

Title: Rise of the Sidenah
Author: C.M. Story
Genre: YA Fantasy

Adrienna Vedica longs to build the creatures living in her imagination. One day, she hopes to sculpt them out of stone, creating great statues like those that guard the Celany village. 

She doesn’t understand why everyone seems to disapprove. 

It’s only when Tishaan, a powerful man in the high council, agrees to help her sculpt that Adrienna is finally able to pursue her passion. She dives into her work, but creates with such energy she collapses from exhaustion before seeing the final results, giving Tishaan time to hide her masterpieces away. 

Her mentor, Sreng—the man she secretly loves—tries to convince her that Tishaan is using her, but she can’t abandon her art. Only when people start showing up dead does she think again. There’s something off about Tishaan…and then Sreng shows her one of her early works. 

But something is wrong. 

It’s alive. And it’s digging a grave.


“Yes. I want to pass. Of course I want to pass.”
Sreng looked more intensely into her eyes and she turned her head away, afraid he was reading her thoughts again. “Do you know why you want to pass?”
She nodded.
He waited, but she said nothing more. “It’s best if your motivation is…” He paused. “Well, if it is coming from, or tied to your future, your place in Celany society.”
Adrienna had to concentrate to keep from rolling her eyes. Now he was going to tell her she mustn’t hope for something between the two of them. He had said as much at other times, though always with this hesitant, roundabout language. All to live up to Celany standards, she knew, some code of conduct that as far as she was concerned made no difference, especially if she passed the trial. So he had trained her? How did that make their connection forbidden? She looked away, but he continued.
“I am concerned.” He clasped his hands in front him and squared his shoulders. “Concerned your current focus may not serve you at the arena, when the Interrogator is challenging you. You need a crystal clear image in mind, one that reflects who you will be once the trial—”
“The Tucadorr.” She lifted her chin and centered her gaze on his. “I saw it. Yesterday.”
He started as if she’d slapped him.
It was a desperate move, a way to get him off lecturing her, but she relished the surprised look on his face.
She pointed to the edge of the lake.
“Here? You’re certain?”
“Olwyn crossed to the inlet. I was on the bank, waiting for her. At first I was resting, but when I looked up, it was there, staring at me.”
Sreng fingered the scabbard hanging from his belt. “It just stood there?”
She nodded. “When Olwyn came back, it disappeared.”
His frown deepened. “Did it look the same?”
“Exactly.” She paused. “But it was a long time ago.” She waited, hoping he would assure her the Tucadorr was one of many, a single creature belonging to some species roaming in large packs on the other side of the twin peaks. The first one was an aberration long gone by now. The one she spotted on the other side of the lake was a distant relative, if that. But he said nothing. No words to suggest the one she had seen wasn’t the very same lone creature that still haunted her nightmares. 
“You told me it was dead,” she said.
He walked to the opening of the cave and looked down on the water. He seemed to be searching for it. “I was sure it would not return.”
“I thought you killed it.”
He leaned against the rock. “So did I.”

Stephen King Coffee Table Book Inspires the Story of a Sculptress 
One day at the library many years ago, I picked up a coffee table book by Stephen King (who wrote the text) and f-stop Fitzgerald (who took the photos) called Nightmares in the Sky. I was doing some research at the time for a middle grade story about gargoyles, and just happened to run across this great resource. 
Despite the scary title (part of King’s contribution, no doubt), I found the book fascinating. Fitzgerald had taken a number of pictures of gargoyles throughout Europe and the United States. To me, the sculptures seemed magical instead of scary, the endless variety of artwork in stone beyond what I had imagined was ever accomplished in Gothic architecture or during any other period.
It was that book, and a bit of imagination, that inspired my novel, Rise of the Sidenah.

Who Made the Gargoyles?
As I looked through the photographs, I got really curious. Each gargoyle was so different, unique, and amazing in its own way.  
Who were the artists behind these magnificent stone carvings? 
That question set me on a different quest than I’d been on before. I had been looking for the gargoyles themselves, but suddenly I was interested in the creators who made them. What inspired one artist to carve a dragon, another a monkey sort of creature, and another a kind of haggard dog with its ribs showing?
I discovered they were called “stonecutters,” and back then, they were just as common as painters and musicians and writers. These were the artists who carved the statues, shaped the columns, and formed the cornices. They used chisels and mallets to fashion the stone as they wished, each putting his own unique stamp on his creations. 
What must it have been like to be one of these individuals? 

All Artists Make Mistakes
I’ve been a musician all my life. I play the French horn in the symphony to this day, which means I know how stressful it can be to be an artist. If you have a solo, for example, and it’s in the middle of a beautiful symphony, the last thing you want to do is mess it up. 
I wondered: What if, while carving, a stonecutter made a mistake? Did he have to start over? Rethink the design? Try to cover it up somehow? 
As I thought about these things, my main character, Adrienna Vedica, came to life. She’s a talented but flawed young woman who wants nothing more than to be a sculptress. Unfortunately, she lives in a society where the talents of a stonecutter are not valued as much as those of, say, of a teacher or farmer. But carving the white stone is all Adrienna wants to do. 

How Far Should You Go to Fulfill a Dream?
How many risks should one take when chasing a dream? The real stonecutters feared only making their clients unhappy, or losing their jobs. For Adrienna, the stakes are higher, because unbeknownst to her, she has a special talent. 
When she carves the magical white stone, it comes to life. 
(You can see where this came from. I mean, who can look at a gargoyle without imagining it looking back?)
For the longest time, Adrienna is unaware of this. She carves with super-human power, and collapses when she is done. That gives her mentor, a conniving man, the chance to hide her sculptures away. It also allows him to take advantage of Adrienna’s mistakes, and there are many. Like any young artist, she needs time to practice and learn, but unlike a canvas tossed aside by a painter, or a manuscript burned by an author, Adrienna’s mistakes live to haunt her, and those she loves. 
How far should a person go to follow her heart? I imagine some of the stonecutters may have been nervous about how others would see their creations. Yet they let their imaginations lead them, and the results are still there for us to view today. 
In learning more about their work, I was inspired to create a character who did the same, but under much more dangerous conditions that put her and her family at risk. 
Would such a path be worth the consequences? 
I’ll leave it to readers to decide.  

C. M. Story has always been a fan of fantasy in all its many forms, including the kind she frequently indulged in during boring lectures in school. She didn't try her hand at penning her own stories, however, until long after she'd gotten her Bachelor's degree in music. 

Once she sold her first short story, she got a writing job and never looked back. Today she runs a successful freelance writing and editing business out of her home in Idaho, and frequently travels to other inspiring places with her trusty laptop in tow. And yes, despite rumors to the contrary, "Story" is her real last name.

"Rise of the Sidenah" was inspired by gothic architecture, a tune by "The Calling," and the idea that following the heart may cause pain, but is the only way to truly fulfill one's purpose in life.

Find more at

Author Links:

Snowbound by CJ Martin

Title: Snowbound
Author: CJ Martin
Genre: New Adult/College Romance
 Release Date: October 20, 2015


A professional snowboarder. A novice skier. An inevitable collision. 

Anders Vik is a force on the slopes and he knows it. World number one. Countless endorsement deals. Looks to match. When a vicious scandal rocks his world everything he’s worked so hard for is threatened. Banished by his coach to a local ski resort, he spends his days losing himself boarding and in numerous women. But when she crashes into his world he’s not sure which will change his life more. The wait for his name to be cleared, or her. 

College senior Elena Espinosa plays by the rules. Work hard. Study harder. Rely on no one but herself. Coerced by her best friends, she reluctantly tags along on the final trip during winter break. For Elena, novice skier is an understatement. She never dreamed a lesson on the bunny slope would send her hurtling towards her destiny. Nor did she imagine it would come in the form of a blue-eyed Nordic God.

She isn’t looking for love. He doesn’t do commitment. But what burns between them is so strong it threatens to melt the polar ice caps. What happens when two different worlds collide?

Purchase Links


Author Bio

CJ Martín lives in Pennsylvania with her wonderful husband and her adorable (sometimes infuriating) dog, Albert. She is an avid reader and has been known to spend her days ignoring her responsibilities while engrossed in a good book. She enjoys traveling and yoga. Snowbound is her first book.

Author Links



Rules Of The Ride by H.J. Bellus

Title: Rules of the Ride
Series: Silver Star Ranch #2
Author: H.J. Bellus
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: October 26, 2015


If it wasn't for bad luck Maverik wouldn't have any luck at all. He is the oldest of the Slatter brothers and the protector of his family. He’s a hometown legend and has one best friend, his dog Jake. Life is simple with Maverik. He loves working cattle on the ranch and keeping the dynasty his granddad built alive and well. 

He's never believed in second chances. 

When Maverik looks into the eyes of Ella James in the middle of his hometown grocery store, he finds himself staring at the ghost of second chance redemptions. Ella walked out on him ten years ago and never looked back. She has returned to town to bury her mom but when their paths collide, it sparks up old flames. Both know better than to indulge, but some train wrecks just can’t be stopped. 

Ella in her high heels driving her fancy sports car and Maverik still deep in his hometown roots... 

Turmoil is at an all time high at Silver Star as buried secrets surface between Ella and Maverik leaving behind irreparable damage. Maverik is left hollow and hopeless wallowing in his bad luck. He has two choices. 




Follow the Slatters in this second installment in the Silver Star Ranch Novels: Rules of the Ride.

Purchase Links

99c for 3 days only


Also Available

FREE for a limited time



“Wake up.” Freezing water splashes in my face and then there’s a kick to the right side of my ribs. The pain ripping through my head is too much to take. I roll over and clench my eyes shut, gripping for my head.

“Maverik Maddox Slatter, get your ass up now.”

Granddad’s voice rings clear in my throbbing head, and I do everything I can to muster enough energy to sit up against a hay bale. I pull down my straw hat and grumble back at him.

“What in the hell are you doing, son?”

He waits for me to answer but only a few more painful moans escape.

“I’ve watched you destroy your life year by year since Ella left town, and I’m done. She’s back in town and needs support. You going to be a coward or step it up?”

“I love her. I’ve never stopped loving her. I want all of her and can’t control myself around her. It’s just like she walked out of my life yesterday.” I let my hat slide to the ground and grip my temples. “I don’t want her to leave but don’t know how to let myself love her again.”

“Maverik, look at me.”

The silence in the barn is deafening as I pick at the straw coating my jeans. It’s more painful than my throbbing headache and dry mouth.

“Look at me, dammit.”

When I look up, the grief and pain combination covering Granddad’s face is just another dagger to my already wounded heart.

“Then be man enough to give her a chance.” Granddad slowly takes a seat on a bale of hay across from me. “Have you ever flat out asked her why she left?”

“I’m not dumb. She left for the city.”

“There’s your problem, boy, you’re assuming you know all the answers.”

“She basically told me that when I ran into her for a few brief minutes at the rodeo with Challis and Merek.” I do my best to slide up onto the hay bale and sit down, but I don’t miss the shooting pains going off in my head. “She could do nothing but brag about the city life and told me she needed help dodging a date.”

“Dammit, Maverik, you’re not listening to me. You’re assuming everything when it comes to Ella. Now I don’t know why she left, but I do know she loved you just as much as you loved her, and it’s worth finding out.”

I bury my face in the palms of my hands and grunt. I can’t handle any more of Ella and the fucking emotions simmering within me. I want nothing more than to chalk it all up to a pot of bad decisions and move the hell on.

“Can you live the rest of your life without her, Maverik? Will you be okay knowing you let her walk right out of your life this time?”

“No, it killed me the first damn time.” Overwhelming emotions attack my core.

“Then go get her, find out answers, and make a decision from there instead of living in your own personal hell.”

“She left for the city life. I wasn’t enough.”

“Dammit, boy, it’s your choice.”

I watch as he takes his time to stand and hear several of his bones creak and crack as he moves about. I let his message replay over and over in my head as I process the words. When I look back up, Granddad is nearing his front porch and Marvel is by my side in the stable.

“I need help today.”

“I’m here.”

“We need to move some cattle around and help Merek and Challis work the colts. We need to be on them double time from here on out.”

“Okay.” I kick a cloud of dust up in the air, sliding my boot back and forth.

“Saint’s going to be done screwing with us.”

“Saint will never be gone until the day he dies, and then more than likely he’ll leave behind a mini-him. Fuckers like Saint will always be around fucking with the good people.”

“Go change and be ready in twenty minutes. I’ll get your horse ready.”

Marvel storms out the open doors into the sunlight and it’s in this moment I see the Marvel I used to know disappear in front of me. He’s hardened with hatred and stressed beyond belief. Life’s been a bitch to all of us, but I guess the difference between Marvel and myself is that I have the choice to try to fix this shit with Ella, or at least get some unanswered questions resolved.

My tiny bunkhouse is quiet and lonely with lingering memories of sweet Ella gracing it. Just the short time she was here made everything change. I want her here. I want her forever. My heart just has to figure out a way back to her.

I grab my phone and dial the local motel’s number and cringe when I realize I have the number memorized from several nights of inappropriate behavior with strange women. A vicious cycle I used to drown out memories and numb my pain that Ella left me in.

“Wagon Wheel front desk.”

“Um, yeah.” I pause, not really knowing what I want to ask or say.

“Hello? What can I help you with?”

“Ella James’ room please.”

“One moment.”

The phone begins ringing, and I cringe with each ring, still not knowing what I’ll say to her. Ring after ring goes by until it’s cut off.

“Fuck.” I throw down my cell phone, start my coffee pot, and head for the shower.

The cold water stuns every single one of my senses as well as brings my sore muscles to life. Cuts and bruises begin to sting the longer I stand under the spray of water. My hand stops over my chest, right above my heart, and I hear my granddad’s words again, encouraging me to find out the reasons Ella left. I could argue back with well over a dozen reasons not to, but something clicks in my mind. I’m going for her and not giving up this time.

I race out of the shower, dry off, and throw on my riding clothes. Snagging the hot and very full coffee pot, I dash to Granddad’s porch where he’s sitting and begin speaking before he has a chance to. I feel Jake settle between my legs but don’t even take the time to pat his head.

“You’re right.” I fill his empty black coffee mug and then sit down next to him. “I have to end this hate relationship I have for Ella and accept why she moved.”

“You do.” He nods and takes a long sip from his mug.

“I’m going to need you by my side. I’m afraid she’s going to shatter me again. Fuck. I’ve been shattered for years now.”

“Maverik, I’d rather have a broken boy who can heal than a bitter bastard who’s going to waste away the rest of his life in hatred.”

“I hear you. I do.” My hand finds the top of Jake’s head. “I just don’t think I can let her go if I give in.”

“Then don’t let her go, dammit. We all make mistakes, son. Move on.”

“Let’s go.” I look up to see my brother with my horse saddled and him atop his.

“I’ll do it.” I brave a smile when I turn to Granddad and don’t miss his beaming face. “Thanks, old man. I’ll grab my coffee pot after dinner.”

My boots are deafening as they pound the sidewalk down to the gravel road where my horse stands. With each step, I feel like a coward with the thoughts of what I’m about to let my heart do, but I know it’s the right thing. I fucking love Ella and looks like I have one chance to get her back in my life.

“What was that all about?” Marvel tilts his head to one side.

“Oh, just Granddad making me do the right thing.” I throw a foot up into a stirrup, grip onto the horn of my saddle, and settle down on the back of Chili. I smile knowing Marvel saddled up my favorite horse. He’s been around since my high school days and I used to calf rope and team rope off of him before saddle bronc became too addicting. Ella loved Chili.

I kick him into a slow trot and realize every single thought that passes through my mind always goes back to Ella, even before she came home. Marvel keeps up by my side as we let our horses go at full gait to the back pasture. The crisp air, the sound of pounding hooves, and the smell of the ranch all calm each of my senses, causing me to breathe in deep and exhale.

Merek and Challis’s happy faces flash before my eyes. I see my granddad rocking happily on his porch and Marvel working his fingers to the bone on the ranch he loves. Then I see me on the tailgate of my truck holding a cold beer and petting Jake. The scene immediately makes my stomach turn because it’s not the right ending for me and never has been.

“There they are.” Marvel points over to a herd of black cattle.

I follow behind him as he rides up to them. We begin gathering them up one by one and I watch and listen to old Jake work his heart up gathering the cattle. Several minutes go by before they group together and we begin trailing them back toward the barn and corrals. 

I’m going for her. I’m going for her. I chant over and over in my head as Chili trots behind the herd rhythmically, lulling me back into an Ella induced trance.

Author Bio

I'm just a simple girl who loves the country life.. .oh yeah! & a good corn dog! Throw in a little Vanilla Ice, and shits bound to get crazy! Be brave... 

- Loves country life & music 

- Gets the case of the "eff-its" often 

- Loves Big 

- Hurts Big 

- love corn dogs & candy.... & (sex & candaaay)

- My heart is happy writing!!!

Author Links

Brando by J.D. Hawkins

Title: Brando
Author: J.D. Hawkins
Genre: Contemporary/Erotic Romance
 Release Date: October 26, 2015


I know what you want, and I know exactly how to give it to you... 

It's why I've got a row of platinum records on my wall and girls lining up for a shot at fame. I'm the best. Now I just need to prove it. 

The bet is simple: take a nobody and make her a star. I just didn't bet on HER. 

She's not some wannabe, she's the real deal.

But fuck it, I want her. And I always come out on top.

Purchase Links



I cup her chin and turn her to face me slowly.

“You’re thinking too much. Don’t think.”

A blush creeps across her cheeks and she drops her eyes again. I brush her hair away from her face and let my hand rest on her neck as I slowly move in closer. Her trembling lips steady themselves on mine, softly settling against my mouth. Our breaths mingle, tongues gently tickling at the insides of each other’s lips. I press further, wanting to kiss away all the shakes in her body, to let her thoughts disappear in the heat of our mouths. Her hand presses against my shirt, splayed fingers tentatively tracing the hardness of my chest, before pushing me away from her.

“Brando…” she whispers, her eyes still closed, her mouth still wet. “I think I just need…”

“Tell me what you need,” I coax her.

“I need…” She opens her eyes, and I already know what she’s about to say. “You.”

This is the most restrained I’ve ever been. Every muscle memory in my body wants to tear her clothes off, the look in her lidded eyes all I need to know she wants this – even more than I do. Hours spent around her blossomed lips, her hidden breasts, her slender thighs, hours of caging up my lust for her in pursuit of another goal has made it grow, big and fearsome. Now that the cage is open, it’s taking all of my reserve to stop it from taking me over. I need this to be slow – this is for her.

“I know how to make you sing, Haley,” I growl in short breaths. My hand goes to the inside of her thigh, pressing itself against the front of her jeans. “I can make you sing better than you’ve ever sung before.”

I have the buttons undone in seconds. Warm, strong, fingers teasingly reaching into the lip of her panties. Her head goes back, eyes closed as she starts panting at the ceiling.

“Wait!” she says, snapping back, her hand on my wrist. “I don’t understand what’s happening between us, Brando. Is this about me? Or is this about music?”

I kneel in front of her, slowly pulling down her jeans.

“It’s about music,” I say, kissing her moistening pussy through the soft cotton of her panties. “It’s always about music.”

She replies by moaning softly and grabbing the back of my head as I run my tongue down the inside of her thigh, letting my stubble softly tickle her pale, sensitive skin.

I get her panties off quickly, and run my hands around the back of her waist, holding her still while I explore her pussy with my tongue. The smell drives me wild, stirring the animal in me like a dormant beast. It’s all I can do to stop myself from sprouting fangs and roaring – I wanna take it slow, learn everything I can about what makes her tick.

Author Bio

I'm an erotic author from LA. I grew up in Southern California and now live with my wife in Venice. I've also lived in NYC, India and Thailand. I love to travel and have been to Central America, Australia, Europe and the Middle East. I have a boring corporate day job where I cover people's asses for a living and am hoping to leave this world soon and make a living doing the thing I love - writing. I enjoy surfing and I'm also a martial artist, my other main passion, which I have practiced since the age of 5.

Author Links

Ugly by Margaret McHeyzer

Title: Ugly
Author: Margaret McHeyzer
Genre: YA/NA
 Release Date: October 26, 2015


If I were dead, I wouldn't be able to see.
If I were dead, I wouldn't be able to feel. 
If I were dead, he'd never raise his hand to me again. 
If I were dead, his words wouldn't cut as deep as they do. 
If I were dead, I'd be beautiful and I wouldn't be so...ugly.

I'm not dead...but I wish I was.

Purchase Links

$2.99 for a limited time only
Price will change to $3.99 soon after release




It’s days like today I wish I was dead.

“Lily Anderson, you get your ugly ass out here right this minute. Don’t make me come after you,” Daddy screams.

He’s so angry. I knew the moment I heard him come home from work I was in for it. I was in my bedroom, lying on the floor trying to do my math. He slammed the front door so hard the windows in my room shook.

And then I knew, I knew I was in for it.

“Lily Anderson!” he yells again.

As soon as I heard him yell I ran to my hiding spot. I’m inside the closet in the hallway, wedged as far into the corner as I can get. Mom’s old coat hangs in front of me and I can still smell a faint waft of the perfume she used to wear.

“Lily Anderson!” he shouts. I can hear the anger in his voice and I can already feel the pain he’s going to inflict on me when he opens the closet door. I know what’s coming.

I close my eyes tight, scrunching them up so no light can seep through. I put my hands over my ears so I can’t hear him.

“I swear to God; if I have to find you, you will not sit for a month.”

My knees are folded into my chest. I’m trying to make myself small, invisible, so he forgets I’m here. I’m rocking myself, trying to block out what he’s saying.

School is safe. School is safe. School is safe. I keep repeating the mantra because in a few short hours I’ll be back at school. Maybe tomorrow I can go to the library after school, stay there until it closes and then sneak in after Dad’s passed out, because he’s had too much to drink.

It was never like this before. Ever.

I’m twelve years old and I can remember when Mom, Dad, and I were all happy. But that was years ago. It’s been a long time since there’s been any happiness in this house.

Well, before Mom died anyway, and not a day since.

Mom died when I was nine. I don’t remember much about her, except I remember her telling me how ugly I am. How life would be better if I was taken away from them. How I’ll never be anything, because I’m stupid and ugly.

Sometimes I dream happy things. Like me, Mom, Dad and a little blond-haired boy all going for a picnic. The sun beamed down on us as we played outside and laughed. We’d eat yummy sandwiches Mom made for us, and we’d drink homemade lemonade. We’d spend hours outside, laughing and talking and just having fun. Mom would tell me how pretty I am, and how much she loved me. She would play with my hair, braid it, and then we’d go and pick bright flowers to take home and put in a vase. Dad would smile and call us “his girls”, always kissing Mom and hugging me. Dad would put the little boy on his shoulders and run around the park, trying to catch the clouds.

I love those dreams, and I hold onto them; wishing they were real. But I’ve never had a mom like that, and my dad doesn’t talk much unless it’s with his fists, or to tell me how ugly and useless I am.

I feel him walking around the house. The floorboards creak and the vibrations from his footsteps come through the floor to where my bottom is. I close my eyes tighter and try and breathe as quietly as I can.

Please go away, Daddy. Please go away.

My heart is beating so fast. My hands are shaking and I’m trying really hard not to think about what’s going to happen the minute he opens the closet door.

Shhh, it’s so quiet. The only sound is my heart thrumming in my ears. Nothing else. Not a whisper, not a rattle…nothing.

Maybe Daddy’s left. Maybe he’s gone to the pub to have a few drinks. Maybe, just maybe, he’s left...forever.

I take a deep breath and just relax for a moment. My shoulders drop and I finally stop rocking.

Slowly I take my hands down from my ears, and I’m so happy because I can’t hear him yelling at me. I can’t hear him at all.

Gradually, I begin to unscrunch my eyes from the way I’ve tightly closed them. But something’s not right. There’s light coming into the closet.

I don’t even get a chance to open them fully before a rough hand reaches in, latches onto my ponytail and yanks.

“I told you it’d be worse for you if I had to find you,” Dad says, as he drags me out of the closet by my hair.

I’m desperately trying to hold onto my head so he doesn’t rip my hair out. My feet are trying to find traction on the dirty floorboards.

“Please, Daddy. Please. You’re hurting me,” I begin sobbing as I plead with him.

“Then your ugly ass should’ve come when I called you, you stupid bitch. You’re fucking worthless, you ugly idiot,” he says. But now his voice is calm as he continues to drag me toward the family room.

That’s when he’s most scary. When his voice is low and his eyes are filled with hate.

He throws me against the side of the sofa and takes a step back to look at me.

I look up and can see he’s the angriest I’ve ever seen him. “You dumb, ugly piece of shit,” he says, as he paces back and forth in front of me.

“Sorry, Daddy. Whatever I did, I’m so sorry.” I cower into myself, trying to make myself as small as possible.

“You’re just too fucking stupid, aren’t you?” he spits toward me as he brings his hand up to scratch at his chin.

“I’m sorry,” I say again. Tears are falling hot and fast down my cheeks. My head hurts from where he was pulling my hair, but I don’t dare try to rub the spot.

“You ugly fuck.” He kicks a boot into my leg.

The pain is instant and my leg feels like it’s shattered. “Please, Daddy,” I beg again, burying my face into my hands.

But ‘please’ never seems to work.

Nothing does.

I’ve just got to take the beatings, because that’s what stupid, ugly girls do.

Author Bio

There's something about the written word that is pure magic.

Possibly it's the fact there are 26 letters in the English alphabet, and they can create something so beautiful or so empowering they're capable to change our lives.

How important is it that we break suit and stretch our minds?

I like to think of myself as 'unique'. My stories aren't for everyone, and sometimes I may push what you believe to be 'normal'.

Normal is subjective.

I prefer to be known as a person who's never been 'bound by custom' but is 'unique by choice'.

I hope you do read and enjoy my stories.

Author Links




The O'Conners by R.C. Martin

Title: The O'Conners
Series: Made For Love
Author: R.C. Martin
Genre: New Adult Romance
 Release Date: October 26, 2015


They promised each other forever... 

With their one year anniversary right around the corner, the O'Conners are more in love than they ever thought possible. Grayson's bashful bride is his heart, Avery's handsome groom is hers, and the future they've planned as Mr. and Mrs. is bursting with promise. 

But life is full of surprises...

When the unexpected happens, turning their world upside down, life as they know it will never be the same. Now, the promises they keep will either make them, or break them.

Purchase Links


Also Available





My girl plunges her tongue into my mouth, unapologetically taking what she wants—what she needs—and my erection strains against the confines of my fitted suit pants. I’ve lured her exactly where I want her. With one simple touch, I’ve made her impatient for me. I love it when she’s hungry for more. Better yet, when I tease her until she can’t stand it any longer and she begs for me to have my way with her. Tonight, I will take her there. I promised her earlier that I intended to worship every inch of her body, and so I will—until she is trembling with want.

When the elevator announces our arrival, I pull away from her abruptly. She gasps, still clinging to my shirt, and a smirk pulls at my lips. “I promised mom I’d let you get some rest,” I quip.

Using me as leverage, she pulls herself against me even tighter. Now, my hardened length is pressed firmly against her stomach. “Take me to bed, my love.”

Damn. This woman is mine. After all this time, it still blows my mind. I’m, without a doubt, the luckiest bastard on the planet.

In one swift motion, I bend down and scoop her up into my arms, cradling her against my chest. My Shorty clings to me and I waste no time getting us down the hall and into our room. I kick the door shut with my foot just as Avery claims my mouth once more. She can have it. It belongs to her. I tell her as much as I deepen the kiss. She moans in response and I feel myself grow harder. She excites me like no one ever has before.

I set her down next to the bed and she immediately turns her back to me. I stifle my amusement at her impatience and kiss her bare shoulder instead. “Sonny,” she sighs. “Could you please—” She sucks in a sharp breath as I trace the tip of my tongue across her skin and up the side of her neck.

“Let your hair down, sweetheart,” I instruct, whispering into her ear. “Then I’ll help you out of your dress.”

She nods and immediately starts pulling out pins, sending her glossy, black mane down her back. As she works to complete her task, I unfasten the tie from around my neck and begin loosening buttons down my shirt. Just as I rid myself of the garment, leaving me in my undershirt, she looks at me from over her shoulder. Her task complete, she gathers her hair to one side and waits patiently.

As promised, I unzip her dress. It slides off of her effortlessly, leaving her standing in a pool of pale blue fabric. She’s not wearing a bra, so her body is bare except for the lacy panties that are cut to accentuate her flawless backside. When she turns to face me, I’m vaguely aware that my breathing has turned ragged. She’s as gorgeous as ever—my wife, my lover, my very best friend. She slays me. Every part of me—my heart, my body, my soul—she owns.

Author Bio

R.C. Martin finds it a bit awkward referring to herself in the third person, so she's only going to do it for this one sentence. (We all know who's writing this bio anyway!) 

I'm a born and bred Coloradan. I will always claim that square state as my home! While I now reside in Virginia, the land of the Rocky Mountains is where I've left a piece of my heart and where my characters come to life. I'm a woman in love with love and filled to the brim with compassion for women like me, on a journey to find themselves in today's society. I aspire to inspire my readers to do more than settle. I hope that my writing will remind everyone that she (or he!) is valuable and worthy of the best kind of love--the kind that is gentle, patient, faithful, passionate, all consuming, never ending, and leaves you breathless. 

When I'm not writing I'm reading; when I'm not reading I'm know how it goes! I also enjoy cooking, baking, crocheting, and jigsaw puzzles. Basically, I'm an old soul with a young heart, nonchalantly waiting for my prince to come.

Author Links