by | March 31, 2018 · 5:00 am

Blood and Roses – Blitz

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Organized Crime Fantasy
Date Published:  June 2017
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Seven organized crime Families, known as the Seven Blessed Families, rule the World of Exodus and its people with the use of their mysterious magical artifacts, called Relics. Relics give powers to the Blessed members of the Families, and they use those powers for corruption and control of everything in Exodus.
Maretto Rose, the patriarch of the Rose Family, celebrates his 50th birthday by attending a performance at the Grand Theater with three of his four sons. The theater is attacked by the heir of the Cicello Family, Zasso Cicello. His mission is to abduct Maretto, but it fails when Maretto’s son, Georgiano, fights Zasso to protect his father and family. Georgiano is ultimately slain and Zasso flees and goes into hiding. Now, the Rose Family must find where Zasso is hiding. They want answers. Who gave him the order for the attack, and what do they want with Maretto Rose? And most of all, they want revenge…But who could it be? A leader of a rival Family? Or someone or something else more powerful than they could imagine?
Meanwhile, Maretto’s youngest son, Ric, must battle his demons and addictions in order to become a Blessed member of the Family and become the man he was destined to be, before he ends up being another dead junky on the street.
So, sit back and enjoy the ride, because in Exodus, gangsters make the world go round.
Praise for Blood and Roses:
“When I first started reading I thought this was going to be a typical gangster story, and in a lot of ways it was. However, the addition of magical relics, giving the family members magical powers, gives a wonderful twist to the story. The use of modern day technology, including flying cars, adds even more to the unexpected quality of the story. I especially love the scenes where they use magic for a variety of attacks and defences.
 
 
 
The plot, which at first, seemed to be very straight forward, was twisted out of shape by the inclusion of not just one, but several different players. This kept me guessing to the very end of the story about what was happening. Even at the end there are questions left unanswered, leading nicely to the next novel in the series, which I’m dying to read.” -Emie Cuevas, OnlineBookClub.com
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Excerpt
So far, it had been the perfect birthday for Don Maretto Rose.  Well, maybe not perfect.  His youngest son was not present for the celebration, and it hurt the powerful man very much on the inside.  But it was still as close as it was going to get to being perfect.
But sometimes, when you least expect it, the unexpected happens…And everything goes to hell.
Outside the Grand Theater, two black extended SUVs came flying from around a nearby skyscraper and hovered towards the ground.  They landed on the street directly in front of the red-carpeted entranceway.  As soon as they were grounded, the doors on each SUV flew open, and gangsters came pouring out like water from a spout.  One of the Rose Family guards and two theater security went into immediate action to stop the unwanted guests from entering the theater.  An array of other guards and security lined the stairs and main entrance.
            Now, a lot of the gangsters spilling out of the cars looked pretty much the same, dressed in regular black suits and fedoras, but there were two in particular that were dressed a little nicer and a little weirder.  They both took their good ole time striding towards the main guard as the other gangsters filed behind them.  The one in front was tall and lanky, wearing a royal blue suit with a matching necktie and white dress shirt.  He bore a blue fedora over his silvery black hair that hung down to his cheeks.  His eyes matched his hair, and his face was thin like his body.  He was draped in gold jewelry around his neck and had gemmed rings on almost every finger.  The pride in his walk signified that he was a man of importance.  And he was.  The man was none other than Zasso Cicello, son of Don Xanose Cicello.
            Walking closely behind, was a shorter man dressed in a shiny silver suit and black dress shirt.  His face was round but came to a point at his chin, and he bore a pair of sunglasses that could be mistaken for a couple of round mirrors.  His long and thin hair was shoulder length and was black with a bluish tint.  He, also, had a certain pride to his walk.  And that’s because he was Zasso’s personal protector and assassin, Razo Malvagio.
            As Zasso and Razo approached the main guard, he put up a hand to signal them to stop and said, “I’m sorry gentlemen, but this is a private viewing and you need to show credentials to enter the theater.”
            In the blink of an eye, Razo came whirling around Zasso, holding a pistol-gripped sawed-off shotgun.  It was pointed directly at the guard, and Razo didn’t hesitate to pull the trigger.  There was a loud burst, and then the guard’s hand exploded clean off his arm, along with half of his face.  His limp body collapsed on the red carpet.  A puddle of blood formed underneath the other half of his face.
            “There are my credentials,” Zasso said to the corpse.
            The two theater security guards reached for their firearms, but Zasso was too quick for them.  Like a gunslinger, he drew a small pistol from his waist and fired multiple shots.  Blood burst out of their chests, and they perished before they even touched their guns.  Zasso and Razo continued on, with their entourage following behind.
            The Rose Family guards and theater security wasted no time opening fire at the oncoming murderers.  They fired numerous times whether it was with a handgun or semiautomatic rifle.  But it was to no success.  Upon the masquerade of bullet-fire, Zasso raised a hand and magically constructed a transparent yellow force field that deflected the bullets.  Then, all hell broke loose.
            Zasso’s gangsters came storming around him and returned fire upon the guards and security.  Zasso and Razo went on the offensive as well with their short-arm weapons.  Blood started spilling, and bodies were falling everywhere.  When Zasso reached the bottom of the stairs, he extended his left hand and bolts of electricity spewed from his fingertips in the direction of his targets.  And at the same time, he kept on firing shots out of his pistol with his right hand.  His targets were electrocuted and blown away by bullets at the same time.  Zasso was Blessedwith magical powers by his Family’s Relic, which made him a very dangerous killer.
            While a few of his men were taken down, Zasso and Razo came away from the chaotic scene unscathed.  The Rose Family guards and theater security were all dead.  It was now time for them to enter the premises of the theater and accomplish what they came here to do.
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About the Author

Jordan Petrarca lives in Erie, Pennsylvania with his wife and twin girls. “Blood and Roses” was inspired by his love for fantasy and organized crime stories.

 

 
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by | · 5:00 am

THE REDEMPTION OF LILLIE ROURKE

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THE REDEMPTION OF LILLIE ROURKE
Bestselling Author Loree Lough
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Series: By Way of the Lighthouse Series Book 3
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Publisher: Harlequin Heartwarming
Publication Date: April 1, 2018
She’d worked for that second chance, but will he believe she has changed?
When she fled Baltimore after a near-fatal accident that left her dependent on painkillers, Lillie Rourke lost everything. Now, physically and emotionally healed, she’s ready to make amends and start over. But Jase Yeager has moved on, and who can blame him? Yet Lillie isn’t giving up—on her–or them. Earning back Jase’s trust won’t be easy, but Lillie’s no stranger to challenges…

Book Excerpt

The kid who’d offered to help him earlier now pecked keys on the register. “This sheet music is on sale,” he said, running the book across the scanner screen. “Are you a kindergarten teacher or something?”
Lillie grinned. “No, nothing like that. I volunteer at Hopkins Children’s Oncology every couple of weeks, and my material is getting stale. Those kids are going through enough without me, adding boredom to their list of complaints. Not that they complain. They’re the bravest little souls I’ve ever met.”
Lillie tended to ramble when nervous, and he felt bad that his nearness made her feel that way.
“My cousin was in there a few years ago,” the kid said, sliding another songbook over the screen. “Leukemia won.”
Jase watched as Lillie, ever the caring comforter, lay a hand atop his.
“I’m so sorry,” she said. “How old was he?”
“Fourteen.”
Her shoulders rose, then fell with a sympathetic sigh. How many times had he told her that her heart was bigger than her head? Too many times to count.
The cashier bagged her music, hit the register button to ring up her total. “It’s really nice, what you’re doing,” he said, handing her the receipt. “The thing Lance hated most about that place was how long the days were with nothing to do but watch TV and listen to his monitor beep.”
Jase had to agree…it was a nice thing she’d been doing.
She thanked the kid and turned to face Jase. “Well, it was a nice surprise, seeing you again.”
“Can you hang around a minute, just until I pay for this stuff?”
She looked surprised by his invitation. In truth, he’d surprised himself, extending it. But he couldn’t just let her leave.
“Okay,” she said. “I’ll wait for you over by the door.”
There was a time when, as she looked up at him that way, his heart had beat doubletime. But who was he kidding? It was happening, right now.
The kid made smalltalk with him, too, but Jase barely heard a word as he watched her from the corner of his eye. Silhouetted against the bright sunshine on the other side of the window, he couldn’t help but notice the way her chin-length hair curved and curled above her shoulders. She used to dress like a tomboy. Sneakers and jeans with comfy t-shirts, like she’d worn to plant flowers that day in her parents’ yard. But that little dress—
“All set,” the kid said, holding up Jase’s bag.
He thanked the boy and wasted no time, joining Lillie.
“You want to grab a cup of coffee?” He held open the door, hoping that slight frown didn’t mean she’d say no. “It’s only a short walk to Café Latte’da…”
“On Aliceanna Street. I remember.”
Of course she did, because before her addiction destroyed them they used to go there at least once a week to decide the order of the songs they’d sing at Three-Eyed Joe’s.
“So what do you say? I’ll treat you to a sandwich. Or pie. Or both.” Recalling her penchant for eating small portions, he added, “We could share…”
Her sweet, sad smile told him she, too, remembered all the meals they’d shared. And again, it made his heart beat a bit harder.
“I don’t have to be at work until six, so okay, pie and coffee it is.”
They were waiting for the light to change at Fleet and Aliceanna when she said, “This won’t upset Whitney, will it?”
“Why would it upset her?”
“I, well, that day at The Flower Basket, I got the impression she knows that we were a couple.”
“I haven’t been seeing her long, so I doubt she cares enough to be jealous.”
The image of that candlelit table flashed in his mind, proof that she cared. Clamping his jaw against a twinge of guilt, Jase said, “So how long have you had this Hopkins gig?”
“Couple months now.”
The light changed, and he pressed a hand to her back to guide her across the street. Not that she needed his assistance. Lillie had been walking to and from her folks’ inn to the restaurant and hotel for months. Still, it felt good, felt right, being this close to her again.
Inside Café Latte Da, Jase admitted that he’d skipped breakfast.
“The guy who’s forever reminding people it’s the most important meal of the day?” Lillie laughed. “Why!”
“Just got back from Florida, and didn’t have time to make a grocery run. My cupboards are as bare as Mother Hubbard’s.”
“I caught the last few minutes of the casserole demonstration. You were born to be a TV host.”
“Yeah, well… So I think I’ll get the chicken wrap. What about you? In the mood for something more substantial than pie?”
“Coffee’s plenty.”
“Thought I heard your belly growl earlier…”
Instinct made her press a palm to her stomach. “An espresso is plenty for now. I’ll whip up a sandwich or something before I clock in at the hotel.”
When she’d paid for the sheet music, Jase saw a lone ten dollar bill in her wallet. He knew her well enough to explain why she’d said no: Lillie had decided that until he could deposit every dime she’d borrowed, she wouldn’t take anything more from him. Unnecessary as that was, Jase respected her decision.
The sat at an empty table near the door—a rare occurrence on a Saturday afternoon—and settled in.
“Tell me about this volunteer work. When did you sign on for that?”
“A week or so after I got home, I gave in to a moment of self-pity.” She stared out the window. “It was time to stop focusing on me, and start focusing on others.” Eyes locked to his, she added, “Best—and worst—thing I have ever done.”
He didn’t get it, and said so.
“Life has put those kids through the wringer. Some of them are barely hanging on, but they’re hanging on. A person can’t help but admire the fight in them.” She sipped her espresso. “Hard to feel sorry for yourself after spending time with them.”
It made sense, considering how she’d always said that self-pity was the most dangerous of all human emotions.
“Must be tough, though, working that closely with them.”
“Only during the drive home.”
“Why?”
Her eyes shimmered with unshed tears. “Because I never know which of them won’t be there when I go back.”
And not because they’d gone home, healthy, he surmised.
She started talking about individual kids, the conditions that put them into Hopkins, the parents and siblings that supported them, and the staff that cared for and comforted them. Hands folded on the table, Lillie said, “And then there’s Jason, the sweetest, cutest ten year old boy you’ll ever meet. He told me the other day that he wants to marry one of the girls—Sally—because his mom’s biggest regret is that she’ll never see him walk down the aisle with the girl of his dreams.”
Wiping away a wayward tear, she added, “Then he asked me if I’d sing at their wedding, and help him make arrangements. Flowers. Streamers. Punch and a cake.”
And he knew that she’d agreed to everything. Jase wanted nothing more at that moment than to take her in his arms, tell her what a terrific person she was. But he sat back, instead, and said, “How can I help?”
“Help? You?”
“Hey. Quit looking so shocked. I do nice stuff once in a while, you know.”
“I know that better than almost anyone,” was her quiet reply.
“Maybe we can work up a couple of tunes, two or three of the things we’d sing at Three-Eyed Joe’s when people were celebrating anniversaries…”
It meant spending time with her, alone, and Jase hoped the offer hadn’t been a big mistake.
“I think the kids might like that.”
She thought the kids might like it? Why the hesitation? And then it hit him: She was as afraid of being so close, of reliving warm and wonderful moments as he was.
“Then let’s put our heads together, figure out… When is this ceremony, anyway?”
“In two weeks.” There wasn’t a trace of a smile on her face when she added, “If he makes it that long.”
“Keep a good thought, Lill. If the kid is half as determined to do this for his mom, he’ll make it. And who knows? Maybe it’s just what he needs to push him closer to a cure.”
She brought the espresso cup to her lips and, nodding, met his eyes.
His high school Lit teacher had made the class memorize what she’d termed “love poems.” It surprised him that, after all this time, he was able to zero in on a line from Sir Walter Scott’s “Lochinvar”: She’d look’d down to blush, and she’d look’d up to sigh, with a smile on her lips and a tear in her eye…”
Yet again, Jase had to fight the urge to draw her into a comforting hug.
He cleared his throat. Sat up straighter. Downed a gulp of his iced tea. “So where do you think we should get together? My place? We’d have plenty of quiet and privacy there.”
Too much, too soon, he realized when her eyes grew big and round.
“The acoustics are great in the inn’s turret. I’m sure Mom and Dad won’t mind. In fact, they were just asking about you the other day. I’m sure they’d love seeing you.”
“Sounds good. I’ll be home for a month, so my schedule is pretty flexible. You’re the one who’s clocking a hundred hours a week, so…”
“I’m happy to see you haven’t changed much,” she said, laughing. “Still exaggerating like crazy…one of the things that made me crazy about you.”
She gasped a little when that last line came out and, hands over her mouth, Lillie said, “Good grief. I’m sorry, Jase. That was really inappropriate. And bad timing.”
“It’s neither, and it’s okay. Nothing wrong with concentrating on the good times. We had plenty of those before…”
If he’d been standing, Jase might have kicked himself, because things had been going really well until he put his big foot in his mouth. Lillie shoved the espresso cup into the center of the table, her way of saying their meeting was over. She’d gathered her things and stood, and he did, too.
“So should I call you? Or would you rather call me? About a time when we can get together. To rehearse, I mean.”
Rambling again. And again, he felt bad for raising her stress level. “Do you have a pen?”
Like magic, she produced one from her purse.
Leaning over the table, he scribbled three phone numbers on a napkin. “Home, cell, and office,” he said, “in that order. You can always get me on my cell. Call any time.” Call soon, he thought. As he pressed the napkin into her hand, their fingers touched. Not for long—a blink in time, if that—but long enough to send a current of longing straight to his heart.
He’d been behaving like some guilt-ridden goofball who’d dumped his best girl, when in reality, Lillie had ended them by choosing booze and pills over their relationship.
It hit him like a punch to the gut: Suggesting that they get together, for any reason, had been a bad idea. But maybe luck was on his side, and she’d hesitated earlier because she felt the same way. Jase hoped she wouldn’t call. And he hoped she would. Why had she come back, just when he’d gotten himself back on track, and turn order into chaos again?
Feeling miserable and confused, Jase held open the café door.
A tiny frown furrowed her brow. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah. Just remembered something I forgot to do.” Like…staying the heck away from her.
“Oh. Because you look…different.”
“Don’t mind me,” he said, leading the way across the street. “I’m a little annoyed with myself, is all, for forgetting…” He let his sentence trail off.
“I remember what a perfectionist you are, and how frustrated you get with yourself when you let something, no matter how trivial, slip through the cracks.”
Yeah, she knew him, all right. Their closeness is what allowed her to use him, time and again, to suit her I love drugs more than you needs.

About Loree Lough

Loree Lough

Bestselling author LOREE LOUGH once sang for her supper, performing across the U.S. and Canada. Now and then, she blows the dust from her 6-string to croon a tune or two, but mostly, she writes novels that have earned hundreds of industry and “Readers’ Choice” awards, 4- and 5-star reviews, and 7 book-to-movie options. Her 115th book, 50 Hours, is her most personal to date, and released in June. More recently, The Man She Knew, book #1 in her “By Way of the Lighthouse” series (Harlequin Heartwarming) and Bringing Rosie Home. Next, #3 in the series, The Redemption of Lillie Rourke…and additional surprises for 2018, 2019, and beyond….
Official website: https://www.loreelough.com
Connect with Loree Lough on social media: Facebook | Twitter | Instagram | Pinterest

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by | March 29, 2018 · 11:37 am

Blue Sky – New Release

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Blue Sky

by Alana Albertson
Publication Date: March 27, 2018
Genres: New Adult, Contemporary, Romance

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Read for FREE in KindleUnlimited: Amazon

Don’t sleep with the nanny.

The one rule I swore to myself that I would obey. As a United States Naval Officer and a pilot for the world famous Blue Angels, I always play by the rules.

Hell, I make the rules.

And I never break them

Until I meet Paloma.

I can’t ignore how she makes me feel alive again after I was certain that my heart was closed to love.
We have nothing in common besides our love for my daughter.

I’m rich; she’s poor.

I’m her boss; she’s my employee.

I’m dead inside; she’s full of life.

Despite our differences, I let lust control my actions and kiss her like it’s the last night of the world.

Which it is, because our passionate kiss has changed my life forever.

I may be a Blue Angel, but she has woken the devil inside.

And I’ll do anything to make her mine.

Alana Albertson brings you an emotional love story between a widowed Blue Angel pilot and the one woman who is forbidden to him—his baby’s nanny.

Blue Sky is an epic standalone, slow burn, ugly cry romance. For a limited time, I have included some bonus books.

About Alana Albertson

Alana Albertson is an award winning Latina author, the former President of Romance Writers of America’s Contemporary Romance, Chick Lit, and Young Adult chapters. She holds a Masters of Education from Harvard and a Bachelor of Arts in English from Stanford. A recovering professional ballroom dancer, Alana currently writes new adult romantic suspense, young adult, and contemporary romance. She lives in San Diego, California, with her husband, two sons, and five dogs. When she’s not spending her time needlepointing, dancing, or saving dogs from high kill shelters through her rescue Pugs N Roses, she can be found watching episodes of House Hunters, Homeland, or Dallas Cowboys Cheerleaders: Making the Team.

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by | · 5:00 am

RELEASE TOUR – Night of the Drakoryans by Ava Sinclair

Night of the Drakoryans

A Reverse Harem Dragon Fantasy

from Ava Sinclair.

Buy Link ->-> https://www.amazon.com/dp/B079WK6BW8/

Night of the Drakoryans cover

Three dragon lords. One reluctant maiden.

And only one long night to claim her.

Syrene does not come to Altar Rock as a willing sacrifice. Angered by her village’s eagerness to give her to the dragons, she seeks to escape. But the dragon who comes for her isn’t having it; he takes her anyway, and carries her home to share as mate with his shifter brothers.

Now the Lords of Jo’Lyn wonder if they haven’t made a mistake. Syrene is as defiant of them as she was of the village she believes rejected her. She swears she will not give herself to even one Drakoryan lord, let alone three.

But the three dominant dragon shifters will not be refused. With the survival of their bloodline hanging in the balance, they are determined to find creative ways to woo their wild mate before the sun rises once more over the empire.

Now available ->-> https://www.amazon.com/dp/B079WK6BW8/

He takes me to a balcony. I clutch the cape around my shoulders, for the air is chill. It is pitch dark.

“I thought you said we could see the moon from here.”

“And so you will.” He points to some clouds, smoky black against the indigo blue of the sky. They drift along, changing shape as they go. Then the shimmering moon emerges, brightening the sky.

I am amazed by the intensity of the glow. “How could something so bright hide itself?”

“Sometimes a shadow can be so heavy that we forget the brilliance behind it.” He looks down at me and the flutter I felt earlier returns. I know he is not talking about the moon now. “The best things are often hidden, Syrene of Arkney.” He reaches for my elbow and I tense as he pivots me towards him. “Will you not allow me to show you some of what your old life kept hidden? You are strong. You are smart. These are things I already sense. You are far better than the people you left behind. I think, down deep, you know this. I think you have always known this…”

“I know nothing.” I drop my eyes. Compliments are harder to accept than gifts. But the man before me persists.

“I do not believe that, Syrene. I believe you have grown comfortable with one way of being. You have allowed anger to carve a path into your soul, and you traverse that path in an endless loop. Let me guide you out of it. Let me help you carve other paths to wonder, paths to pleasure. Do you not see that these things are your birthright?”

No one has ever spoken to me like this. No one has ever told me I deserve anything other than misery and scorn. But this man, this powerful lord who, along with his brothers, commands dragons, is telling me that happiness is my destiny, that I am worthy of all the things I believed I would never have.

“I can’t,” I begin, but he puts a finger to my lips. “You can.” He smiles, and my heart lurches. No man in my village had such a handsome face. He pauses. “Syrene. Let me show you but a taste of what’s been hidden from you. I will not persist beyond what you allow.”

He moves his hand from my lip to the front of my cape, parting the fabric. The chill of the night moves through my gown, hardening my nipples to aching, up-thrust peaks. Then Lord Edrys brushes one through the fabric, his hand warm against the tight little nub. The contact makes it throb, and a tiny whimper of hidden need escapes from between my parted lips.

His large hand cups my breast now, squeezing firmly, and the throb I felt shifts lower, to between my thighs, like an itch, only different. It’s more like an ache that wants for something…contact, perhaps pressure. I am frustrated. I do not know what it is my body asks for as his other hand moves to the slight flare of my belly and then lower. The swelling ache in my core intensifies as his fingers descend, and when his hand reaches the top of the soft mound of my womanhood, feel a tiny ripple in my core. I cry out and leap away, pulling my cape around me.

“What was that?” I demand to know. I can still feel the residual quivering, as if his touch is still there. “What is it you do to me?”

“That,” Lord Edrys says, “is a woman’s pleasure. Did no one ever speak to you of such things?”

Night of the Drakoryans kindle cover

Variety is the spice of life and Ava Sinclair writes a little something for everyone, from dark romance to menage to kinky AF age play. But the one thing that is consistent in her books are strong storylines, alpha males, and strong women whose hearts and bodies aren’t given up without a fight.

Ava lives in southern Virginia, where she enjoys hoarding books, hiking, running, spoiling her cats, and spending time with her Eurasian eagle owl, Lucius.

Web site <a

href=”https://www.avasinclairauthor.com”>www.avasinclairauthor.com

Facebook Page: https://www.facebook.com/Author-Ava-Sinclair-490738981084361/

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Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7223083.Ava_Sinclair

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Twitter: @authoringava

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by | · 5:00 am

King Daniel – Blitz

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Historical Fiction
Date Published: July 2016
Publisher: BalboaPress
 
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On a summer’s evening in 1972, while the band plays amid the sizzling heat at the Tampa Yacht Club,Gasparilla pirates and their ladies eagerly await the arrival of their newly crowned king, Daniel Westcott. But to their dismay, Daniel never shows up.
By the wee hours of the next morning, the townspeople are scratching their heads as members of the Westcott family deliberate whether or not to call the police. As the story unfolds, King Daniel has disappeared without a trace.
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Praise for King Daniel:
“Nautical twists abound as King Daniel excites with its page-turning thrills and familial revelations….” – Foreword Reviews, 5 Stars
 
“The disappearance of a Tampa Bay blue blood rattles the skeletons in his family’s closet….A gripping tale of a missing patriarch in 1970’s Florida; an auspicious debut.” – Kirkus Reviews
 
“In this thriller, Susan Wolf Johnson delivers an ambitious, sprawling melodrama about the bitter end of a Southern patriarch and the damage a family can inflict on itself for generations.” – BlueInk Review
 
“This intriguing novel centers on the disappearance of Daniel,the newly anointed ceremonial king of Gasparilla, a series of pirate-themed festivities similar to Mardi Gras but held in Tampa. The author does a great job with character development for Daniel’s family: his distraught and distracted wife, Natalie; his mentally-challenged daughter, Julia; and his pregnant, unwed granddaughter, Becca. The story unfolds slowly, with a huge array of characters and a narrator who speaks directly to the reader rather than fading into the background. The mystery surrounding what happened to Daniel takes a back seat to the internal strife each of the characters battles.” – Booklife

 

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About the Author

Susan Wolf Johnson earned her MFA at Vermont College of Fine Arts.  She has taught creative writing and composition at the University of South Florida for fifteen years.  Her short stories and book reviews have appeared in the Mississippi Review, the Dallas Review, the Florida Review, The Sun, New Letters, and the Charlotte Poetry Review.  She lives in Tampa, Florida with her family.  King Daniel is her first novel.
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