Susan Behon…Fall For You!

I’m so pleased to welcome pub sister Susan Behon today, with her debut romance Fall For You!


Thoughts From A Newly Published Writer


I’m often asked what the best part about being a writer is and I jokingly reply that it’s the fame and glory! That part of my writing career hasn’t happened yet so in all honesty, my favorite part of being a writer is the reader feedback. I love it when a reader tells me they laughed out loud or couldn’t put my book down. To have written something that is truly enjoyed makes the process completely worth it.

I’m also asked where I get my story ideas. Some people have even asked me if I’m writing my secret fantasies I have of my husband and myself. Not exactly. Parts of my stories are based on real life. The beginning scene in Fall For You is based on a real life dodge behind a bakery table to avoid my future husband seeing me. After all, truth is stranger than fiction. After the initial inspiration though, the characters completely took on a life of their own.

As for the characters, some are loosely or not so loosely based on people I know. Some are completely made up. Some characters show up out of nowhere and demand to be included in a story. I’ve learned to listen to these characters because they tend to be the most interesting. They’ve been hiding in some portion of my brain waiting for a turn to come to life on the written page.

A cute fun fact is that my fictional town of Madison Falls got its name from my daughter, Madison, tripping in front of me. Instant inspiration!

If I’ve learned anything as a writer, fact and fiction do collide but in the best of ways. With contemporary romance, I’ve found that it’s important for a reader to be able to relate to the people and the story.

It is my sincere hope that readers take a break from their own real lives, even for a little while, and enjoy the goings on in Madison Falls. It’s a fun, funny, and surprisingly sexy place to live.


Susan Behon



Sophie Brandon is in a bind.

After eight years, Reed Sutton is back in town and back on Sophie’s radar. Her high school crush is home to stay and hotter than ever. How can she avoid the gorgeous construction manager when she needs work done in her bakery?            `

Reed knows he’s overqualified for the simple renovation, but when it comes to sweet Sophie, he’s the man for the job. Her kitchen heats up when one kiss leads to more and a storeroom mishap throws her right into Reed’s arms. Once he catches her, he can’t seem to keep his hands off of her…cookies.

Small town gossip mixed with threats against Sophie are a recipe for disaster. Will history repeat itself or will love conquer all?


Fall For You Excerpt

At the sound of Reed’s deep voice, Sophie yelped and lost her balance. The seal gave way and powdered sugar came down with her in a cloud of white dust. When the heel on her left shoe snapped off with an audible crack, Reed lunged to catch her. Instead of kissing the floor, a pair of strong arms grabbed her and pulled her into a wall of hard muscle.

Instead of her life flashing before her eyes, all Sophie could think about was how often Reed worked out. He was definitely solid and she was pretty sure her breasts were pushed up against the top of a six pack.

Holy hell, if I died now, I could go a happy woman.

Reality intruded when Sophie realized she was covered in powdered sugar, the heel of her shoe was jammed under a shelf, and Reed hadn’t let go of her yet. The bad news was that her chance at wowing him with her frilly green sundress had bit the dust. The good news, obviously, was that Reed hadn’t let go of her yet.

She looked up to see that he was covered in powdered sugar too. Nothing to do now but brazen it out.

“Hi, Reed.”

“Hello, Sophie.”

Reed stared down at her with such a serious intensity that she began to stammer an apology. “I…” was all she managed to get out before he pulled her tighter, dipped his head, and pressed his lips to hers.

Okaaaay. This works too.

His lips were soft and hot and moved against hers with such precision that she wanted to climb him like a tree for greater contact. He pulled away, licked his lips, and murmured, “You taste so sweet.”

She gasped out, “I’m pretty sure that’s the sugar.”

Against her lips, he breathed, “No, it’s you. It’s all you, Sophie.”

Reed closed the distance and kissed her again, this time using his tongue to sweep inside and taste her more thoroughly. Sophie touched her tongue to his in a tentative swipe and he seemed to lose all restraint.

His hands moved from her back down to her butt, to first squeeze gently and then to pull her flush against his hard lower body. When they made contact, she got hotter knowing just how much he wanted her. Reed’s strength surrounded her. Sophie got lost in the wet glide of his tongue and the sensual pressure of his lips against hers.

Goosebumps raced up her arms when he changed direction and kissed along her neck and shoulder. She angled her head back to give him better access. Nothing ever felt this good. Sophie was preparing to throw Reed down and rip his clothes off when she heard a throat clear in a very loud “AHEM.”

She tried to spring away from him but Reed hadn’t gotten with the program yet. He leaned in to kiss her again. Noticing her stiff posture, he raised his head to look at her.

“A-hem once again.”



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My journey with epilepsy

Hello all.  This is a post I originally wrote back in Sept. 2014. In celebration of epilepsy awareness, I’d like to share it with you once again.


Epilepsy Awareness

I’ve chosen to deviate from my normal chat about romance today to discuss an issue dear to my heart. As some of you may know, I live with epilepsy. Since I was 10, I’ve had seizures and have taken various medications for it.

We’ve all made seizure jokes, right? I might even have done so myself, it’s become so acceptable. However, whenever I hear one, I do feel a slight sting. Epilepsy has been my cross to bear for over thirty years now, the majority of my life. I do acknowledge in this life there are those with more ponderous crosses. I can honestly say my life is a good one, and my condition is under control.

That doesn’t mean I haven’t had a few interesting moments here and there. A couple were life-threatening.

My first seizure hit when I was 10. I was standing in a crowded movie theater with my mom and younger brother. The lineups were long, we all carried big winter coats and popcorn. Suddenly, I dropped all the things I was carrying and then promptly dropped as well. I soon began having seizures at school, which generally gave my friends and teachers a start.

I don’t suffer from grand mal seizures, the kinds they show you in movies. My condition is known as temporal lobe or complex partial epilepsy and my seizures look different. My eyes glaze over. I lose focus. I may stand or sit or wave my arms around. I may speak gibberish or out-of-context. They last about 30 seconds and then I snap out of it. I know I’ve seized because a chunk of time is missing. To me, it’s as if I’ve had a brief nap, and I have no recollection of what I’ve done during that period. I can assure you it’s a scary sensation to “wake up” and not know what you’ve done.

I’ve had seizures while giving presentations, while watching movies, while riding a bike and in numerous other situations. I once almost wandered out of a bowling alley on my own, my friends in pursuit. During my teen years, the worst period, it wasn’t unusual for me to seize 4 times/day. Those were the days I stayed home from school.

The most frightening moment occurred when I was about 20. I had gone shopping at a local mall and went home on the subway. I seized while standing on the subway platform, waiting for the train. Just as the train approached, I seized and began to walk toward the edge of the platform. If it hadn’t been for a Good Samaritan, I am sure I would have died that day.

Because of epilepsy, I couldn’t drive when all my friends did. Only after many years (in my 30’s) did I finally get my license. I waited until I’d found the best medication possible and until I was seizure-free. For many years, no doctor would actually diagnose my condition. And once they did, I began taking every medication under the sun: barbiturates that made me drowsy, herbal medicines that did nothing and I even tried acupuncture. I now take a drug called Tegretol and it has allowed me to remain seizure-free. I am often tempted to stop taking it, to see if the seizures have gone away, but I can’t ever take that chance. I know I will be on drugs for the rest of my life.

In my new book Vice, coming Sept. 22 from Samhain Publishing, the heroine has epilepsy. It’s the first book in which I’ve explored the topic and it means a great deal to me. Why have I shared all this today? To shine a light on this mysterious condition. So many suffer from it, many of whom can’t rid themselves of the seizures as I have with medication. And yet a lot of people still find it humorous to joke about it. I would never censor anyone, but I would like to share my experience. Hopefully in doing so, it’ll become a little less mysterious and a lot less funny.

Thank you.


Elle Rush…Leading Man!

I’m honored to have pub sister Elle Rush visit with me today. She’s written a powerful post on romance as escape, in particular for readers who are going through a tough time. She has a hot new release, Leading Man, and I think we can all escape quite easily into her romantic stories.

Glad to have you, Elle!




I’m just back from a training session on how to hook my mother up to a ventilator. She has a degenerative medical condition and we’re at the ventilator stage so I’m learning how to assist my father in her care. I’ve spent the last two hours learning about exactly how weak my mother’s lungs are and how vital this machine is to her continued survival.

My brain is full. My heart is sore. And I need a romance. STAT.

There is no worse feeling in the world than being helpless while somebody you love is hurting. Yelling at the medical staff to do more doesn’t help when you know you’ve got the best people possible working for you. Sometimes there’s nobody you can be mad at. There’s nothing you can do to make your spouse/parent/child/sibling/friend better or to take away the pain. All you can do is be there. And, sometimes, even simply being present is absolutely physically, mentally, and spiritually draining.

If you are taking care of somebody else, it’s important to take care of yourself as well. Make sure you eat real food (not just vending machine and fast food crap). Sleep. Get some exercise and fresh air. A walk around the block can work wonders.

Equally important to all the bodily concerns, is recharging your non-physical batteries. It is so easy to get overwhelmed in situations like these. You need to find a way to get a few minutes to yourself to do something for yourself and get your head together. Some people bake or play Frisbee with their dogs or garden. I read.

Specifically, I read romance because I need to know somebody’s life is working out, even if that somebody is fictional. Even more specifically, I read light, fun, happy romances, not “dark” romances where there is a lot of suffering by the hero and heroine before they get to their own happy endings. I know the world can be unfair. I know it can be painful. I already live with that.

I want minimal angst, sexy, witty flirting, and a world where the perfect date outfit is only a quick shopping spree away. I want to remember there are people whose entire lives don’t revolve around trips to the doctor or sleepless nights listening to machines beep or wondering how they’re going to pay the next medical bill that comes in. I want to pretend for just a little while.

That’s why I read romances. They are escapism in the truest sense of the word. A one hundred page novella or a five hundred page epic transports me to a temporary safe haven. They occupy my mind while all my problems get shoved to the backburner for a little while. Romances give me time to catch my breath, find my balance, and restore my faith. That kind of escape can never be a bad thing.

LSB Cover Art Template for PhotoShop


Mini-blurb for LEADING MAN

Nick needs a dance instructor to help him with his new role and Ashleigh seems perfect. Their relationship quickly heats up … on the dance floor and between the sheets. But when Nick learns about Ashleigh’s connection with his ex-girlfriend, he wonders if their relationship is real or staged.


“Naked is better.” Nick Thurston was deadly serious in his declaration. “I would rather have a scene with full-frontal nudity on an outdoor stage in January in Alaska than go to one more dance class with that—” Damn his parents for teaching him not to curse when referring to a lady, although the lady in question didn’t meet the moral definition of one.

“Woman,” his salt-and-pepper haired lawyer suggested.

“She is not a woman. She’s some kind of handsy, tap-dancing nightmare. The world may know I have two left feet but I swear she has at least four arms because one of them is pinching my ass while the other is picking my pocket.” He glanced over at the man who had shepherded both him and his parents from their first-roles to superstardom and was not impressed to find him laughing. “Brian, I mean it. This isn’t a little mutually fun flirting. It’s sexual harassment and regular harassment and I am done with it.”

“Nick, I believe you.”

“Then fix it. I’m one of the producers for ‘The Last Bachelor.’ I should have the ability to fire her for harassment, shouldn’t I? At this point I’d be willing to buy out her contract in order to be rid of her and take the financial hit to replace her. Find me a loophole, please. Or some Kevlar slacks if you can’t—my backside is one big bruise.” Nick ran his hands through his lightly gelled hair, which reminded him he needed to refresh the sun-streaked blond highlights he added for the summer. He leaned against the bookshelf along the wall. He winced and stood up straight again. He wasn’t kidding about the bruise.

As much as he griped, Nick wasn’t certain there was much the man could do. Brian had done his best to talk Nick out of hiring his then-girlfriend Sandrine Gold as their choreographer, insisting Nick had enough on his plate with his role and financial contribution in the production. Nick brushed aside Brian’s concerns, insisting he wanted to be involved in all aspects of the play, including hiring the stage hands and specialists. He wasn’t going to miss any part of the next phase of his career.

Nick loved playing Ares on Olympus and was thrilled the hit drama was heading into its fourth season. The Spartactus/Game of Thrones/Hercules mash-up was a lot of work and a lot of fun and he wouldn’t trade it for the world but the simple truth was he wanted a change from togas. The hiatus after the show’s thirteen-episode third season offered him the perfect opportunity to try something new. In this case, Colby Sinclair, one of his former co-stars from his Paradise Point days, had moved into directing and had called Nick with the offer of a lifetime—the title role in a revival of a Richie Washington play. Actors were fans too, and Nick was a huge admirer of the unfortunately short-lived playwright.

“You realize this wouldn’t even be an issue if you hadn’t signed up for a role which required dancing. You know I love you, Nick, but…”

Nick sighed. “But I’m lucky I don’t trip over my own feet. I know. Everybody knows.” It was a joke at this point. He could do many things. He could put on a passable Australian accent, and had for “The Year It Rained.” He could decorate a cake with bakery precision after “Sugar on Top.” He was an admirable tenor. But absolutely, in no way, shape, or form, could he dance. His brain and his feet had a feud which began at birth. They’d eventually hit a détente. His feet conceded on walking and running, but refused to cooperate beyond that. Nick had driven Russ Vukovich, Olympus’s former fight coordinator, to tears when it came to sword fighting footwork.

Liquid Silver Books





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Elle Rush is a romance author from Winnipeg, Manitoba, Canada. When she’s not travelling, she’s hard at work writing her contemporary romances which are set all over the world. Elle has studied half a dozen languages and has flunked poetry in every single one of them. She also has mild addictions to tea, cookbooks and the sci-fi channel. Follow her at or on Pinterest , Facebook and Twitter, and keep up with her free newsletter.




Tami Lund. Light Beyond the Darkness Cover Reveal

Gosh, I love a cover reveal! Especially when it’s for my pal, Tami Lund. I’m thrilled to be able to share her new book with the world.



#CoverReveal #Paranormal #TamiLund #BookEnthu

Light Beyond the Darkness by Tami Lund Cover Reveal

Genre: Paranormal

Release Date: April 27, 2015

Hosted by: Book Enthusiast Promotions ( @BookEnthuPromo )


Other Books in the Series:


Into the Light (Book One) On sale for $1.99 until March 25th

Amazon US:

Amazon UK:



Liquid Silver Books:



Dawning of the Light (Book Two)

Amazon US:

Amazon UK:



Liquid Silver Books:




Signed paperback copy of winner’s choice: Candy Crush or Naked Truth

Enter here ➜ ➜


Add the book to Goodreads ➜



In the third installment of the Lightbearer series, lightbearer Carley Santiago and shifter Reid Hennigan are running from their pasts. Hiding in the human world, they meet and sparks fly. But what happens when Carley’s past threatens to ruin her relationship with Reid?


Carley was once the premier chef for kings – the King of the Lightbearers, that is. But when her mate pushes her over a cliff and she miraculously survives, she flees her home, the coterie, knowing he will want to finish the job. She figures hiding in the human world is the best way to ensure her own safety.


While working as a chef at one of Chicago’s top restaurants, she meets Reid Hennigan, a lone shifter running from his own past. Carley tries to push him away – she wants nothing to do with anyone from the magical community – even a persistent shifter who insists he only wants to show her pleasure.


Reid Hennigan is another reject from Quentin Lyons’ defunct pack. When he received word his pack master was dead, Reid ran away from his pack, from pack life, having no interest in being forced to be subservient to another abusive pack master. Unfortunately for Reid, shifters are hardwired to desire to be part of a pack, and he finds himself wandering aimlessly through life, with no clear idea of what to do next. When he stumbles upon the shy lightbearer while eating the best steak of his life, he discovers a new lease on life.


Reid sets out to woo the beautiful, broken lightbearer. Passion turns to love, and Reid figures his life is pretty damn perfect, despite no longer having a pack. But Carley has secrets of her own, and her secrets.



Tami Lund likes to live, love, and laugh, and does her best to ensure the characters in her books do the same. After they’ve overcome a few seemingly insurmountable obstacles first, of course.


When she’s not doing that, she’s a mom to two (growing far too fast) kids and a furbaby who conveniently forces her to exercise at least once a day. She’s also a wife to her own knight in shining armor who proposed in a way worthy of a romance novel.


Most of all, she loves to write. She figures it keeps her from going insane. Or at the very least, it keeps strangers from believing she is insane, because if she goes too long without writing the characters down on the computer, she tends to start talking to them. Out loud. Often, in public places.


Tami is multi-published, both self and with a few publishers, including Crimson Romance, Liquid Silver Books, and, (as of June 2015) Soul Mates Publishing.






“He sent it back?” Carley asked in disbelief.

Sara nodded. “He said he can tell you didn’t make it, and he refuses to eat anything from this kitchen that does not come specifically from you. He suggested you could come out and talk to him about it.”

Carley shook her head and rolled her eyes. She would just bet he was open to her going out into the dining room to talk to him.

“Tell him I’m not making steaks tonight. Tell him I’m focusing on the vegetarian dishes,” she said suddenly. She grinned when Sara walked away. That ought to teach him.

The waitress returned a moment later. “He wants the vegetarian special,” she said. “And the key lime pie.” She tilted her head and gave Carley a quizzical look. “What’s going on with you and that guy? I thought you said you didn’t know him?”

“I don’t,” Carley insisted. “I know…someone close to him,” she said. She knew Tanner and his mother, Ariana, Finn, and Lisa, the shifters who were currently living in what had once been Carley’s home, the lightbearers’ coterie. Whether this shifter knew them or not, she had no idea. But they were the same species. That meant he was closer to them than any other species, right?

She washed her hands and nudged Eric away from the vegetable station. “He wants our vegetarian special? I’ll make him a vegetarian special,” she announced, and she set to work chopping every damn type of vegetable she could find.

When Sara returned with the empty plate from the shifter’s table, she held it up for Carley’s inspection and said, “He wants to speak to you. He said he’ll summon the manager if you don’t go out there.”

Carley’s heart sank. The manager would undoubtedly force the issue, if it was brought to his attention. He saw no reason why his chef wouldn’t want to go out into the dining room and schmooze customers.

“Fine,” she grumbled as she sliced a wedge from one of the key lime pies she had made earlier in the day. She deliberately dropped it onto its side on the plate and didn’t add garnish before shoving a few strands of hair behind her ear and stomping out of the kitchen.

“Here,” she said as she unceremoniously dropped the plate onto the table.

The shifter gave the sloppy slice of pie a cursory glance before lifting his pale blue eyes and focusing so wholly onto Carley that she was certain he saw absolutely nothing else in the room at the moment. How could someone be that focused? She didn’t think she’d ever had anyone pay her such full attention in her life.

She fidgeted, nervously twisting her hands together before she realized what she was doing and clasped them behind her back. The shifter continued to stare at her.

“You owe me for that one, Carley.”

She visibly jerked at the sound of his voice, low and deep and smooth as whiskey.

“For what?” she asked, wondering how in the world he knew her name and for what she could possibly owe him. As far as she knew, she’d never met the man before yesterday.

“That dinner. As enticing as it was eating something with your magical stamp on it, forcing me to eat vegetables does not put me in a particularly good mood.”

She blinked owlishly. “I didn’t force you to eat vegetables.”

“You refused to make me a steak.”

“Sean’s steaks are practically as good as mine,” she protested.

“‘Practically’ isn’t yours.”

With a great deal of effort, she pulled her gaze away from his and made a swift perusal around the restaurant. All human, and none were paying them any particular attention, other than the ones she knew were listening at the door behind her.

“Do I know you?” she asked.

“Not yet,” he replied.

She frowned. “What is that supposed to mean?”

His voice pitched low. “It means I intend to get to know you, every inch of you, from the inside out. I intend to possess you. I intend to do things—” He reached for her, and she pulled away as if he was about to hit her. He froze, mid-reach and mid-sentence. And then he slowly lowered his hand.

“You’ve been abused,” he stated, matter-of-factly.

She shook her head, trying to deny it. Don’t go there. Don’t go there.

“Past lover?”

She shook her head again. How had the conversation turned to this?

“Family member then.”

“No,” she finally managed to get out.


“Stop,” she said as she lifted her hand, palm facing out. “Just stop. This is none of your business. I don’t know you. I don’t even know your name, and I have no idea how you know mine. I—” He cut her off.

“My name is Reid. And one of your employees referred to you by name yesterday, when I went into the kitchen to meet you.”

“Fine. Fine. Reid. Look, Reid, obviously you know what I am, and I know what you are. So can we just be honest with each other? What do you want from me?”

“I was in the middle of telling you when you flinched away as if you expected I would hit you.”

Carley blew out a breath. Damned instincts. But it was hard to change the only way she knew how to interact with men.

“I don’t know how you found me, but—”

“It was purely by accident.”

She drew in a ragged breath. “Fine. By accident. Whatever. Look, I’m trying to establish a nice, normal life here. One that doesn’t involve shifters or lightbearers or anyone else from the magical community for that matter. That means there isn’t any room in that nice, normal life for you. So the best thing for you to do is just finish up that key lime pie and go back to whatever pack you came from, okay?”

“I can’t go back,” he replied. “And it isn’t acceptable that you have no room in your life for me.”

Was he serious? She stared at him. He certainly looked serious. If he was joking, he was doing a damn fine job of acting deadpan. Too fine a job.

“I don’t understand,” she finally said.

“Which part?”

She flapped her hand. “All of it. What do you mean, it isn’t acceptable? Since when do you have any say in my life?”

“Since I entered it and decided I want you.”

She stared again, her jaw falling open. “You want—”



“Clearly it isn’t for your quick wit.”

She snapped her mouth shut and stabbed her finger at the restaurant entrance. “Get out of my restaurant. You can’t have me. Get out. Now.” She didn’t wait to see if he complied. She turned and stalked back into the kitchen with her head held stiffly, refusing to turn around and look at him again. She didn’t need to, to know he was watching her. Lights above, she could feel the intensity of his stare without having to look.

Just as soon as the kitchen door swung shut behind her, she leaned against the wall and took great, gasping breaths. Her entire body shook as if she was in shock. Hell, she probably was.

Someone thrust a glass into her hand. The stench of bourbon assaulted her nose.

“Drink,” Vivian commanded. Carley obediently drank, and then sputtered and gasped when the amber liquid slid down her throat.

“What did he do to you?” Vivian demanded, clearly having decided she was coherent enough to speak of the incident.

“Nothing,” Carley said.

“Well, what happened, then? You’re shaking like a leaf. Something scared the crap out of you. What was it?”

Carley shook her head, but Vivian was a tenacious human being. Finally, Carley admitted, “I’ve never stood up to a man like that before.”

Vivian looked at her as if she’d just sprouted an alien head. Carley shook her head again.

“My father—he wasn’t exactly the most loving parent. And I ended up in a really bad relationship,” she said, conscious of the fact that she’d never spoken of this to anyone, not since the day she left the coterie, five months ago. “I never had the option to say no.” She smiled, just a little. “It sort of felt good.”

“Hell yeah, it did,” Vivian said fiercely. But then she frowned. “Problem with those types, though, is that they generally see someone like you as a challenge.”

“What does that mean?” Carley asked in alarm.

“It means that I doubt this is the last we’ve seen of Mr. Rare Steak.”


Getting sucked into the contemporary #romance world.

I know my loyal readers are waiting for my next paranormal romances to come out, and I promise they will. In fact, I can tell you I’m further along with the next Gemini Island Shifters book than I expected to be. Despite my intention to give writing a little break this past week, I had a brain wave yesterday and was able to add a couple of thousand words. So, they’re coming.

However, I have found myself drawn more and more into the contemporary romance world and wonder why. The Stand-In, my latest contemporary, has been doing well and I’m so pleased with the reviews coming in.
But what drew me to characters such as Winn and Patrick? After all, since the first time I picked up a pen, I wrote about paranormal creatures. Hell, since I first began to read as a child, I read about monsters and gods and ghosts. So why am I all of a sudden obsessed with “real” people?

I blame life. When life throws curve balls at you, you begin to see resilience in others, as well as in yourself. You see others fight back. And believe me, I have witnessed a lot of grace under pressure lately. The human spirit is a remarkable thing. I suppose I feel the need to celebrate it right now.

I’ve always been enamored of those supernatural beings and still am. I love what they can do and what they can become. But at this point in time, I appreciate the simple beauty of human reactions and willpower. I find myself mulling over human mistakes and marveling at how we seek to fix them. I love to discuss the strength of my paranormal characters in those other books, but when you get right down to it, we mortals can be strong, too.

So will I be exploring the mortal world in my books going forward? I think so. I already have a couple of plots spinning in my brain and some very human characters to go with them.

These humans have surprised me, and I hope they will delight you.

TL Schaefer…Shoot to Thrill!

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I can’t think of a better way to inaugurate my new blog than by welcoming TL Schaefer! Not only is TL here to share her latest hot read, Shoot to Thrill, she shares some great advice for new writers and her thoughts on reviews.



  • What are your five “desert island” books?
    • Swan Song by Robert McCammon, Son of the Morning by Linda Howard, Games of Command by Linnea Sinclair, any of Karen Rose’s books, and any of Leigh Wyndfield’s books. If I had to pick a 6th, it’d either be The Stand by Stephen King or Boy’s Life by Robert McCammon
  • What is the best way a reader can express their gratitude for the experience they had reading your work?
    • Leave a text review on Amazon.   I cannot tell you what that does for us in terms of leading to sales.  I’m not talking about writing a novel of your own, just tell folks what you liked or didn’t in a few sentences.
  • What advice would you give a new author?
    • Sit down and write the damn book. The send it to critique partners and beta readers and pretty much anyone who’ll give you an opinion.  When you see a theme, then you’ve got a problem.  If you don’t, then that’s cool, it’s opinion J  When you’re there, study your market and the houses you’re submitting to before you send to them willy-nilly.  And even if you get a rejection, send a nice thank you note.  And if you *do* get a rejection, don’t argue with who rejected you.  If they gave you a reason, don’t be hurt, think about it.  Think about whether that house was even right for you. And then either revise your work or find a house that better suits your content/style.

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The Colorado Academy for Superior Intellect (CASI) …only the best and the brightest may attend…and only if they possess a Talent the Meece Foundation deems of value. Founded in the late sixties, the Academy is the brainchild of Hugh Meece, pharmaceutical groundbreaker…and CASI is its shining jewel. Their motto: Exploring the last frontier…the human mind.

Special Agent Arin Thomas always gets her man, but when she embarks on a personal mission to uncover the details behind her best friend’s death, she discovers a world she’s never even imagined. A world where extrasensory powers are exploited, and where her badge makes her a big, shiny target.
Dr. Jonah Summers would be more than happy to run the Colorado Academy for Superior Intellect (CASI) if only people would stop shooting at him. But that’s a pointless wish when someone with a bottomless bank account and a direct line to Russian special forces has CASI and everyone connected to it in the crosshairs.
Arin and Jonah find themselves dodging a merciless killer with a hidden agenda while trying to fight their own attraction. It’s only a matter of time before one of them has to Shoot to Thrill in order to kill—or be killed.

Shoot to Thrill excerpt:

Since we’d already paid for the suite, and it had the sitting room, I saw no reason to get another room, especially since the chaise would make Summers uncomfortable.  I was getting a mean little charge out of torturing him, which should have made me ashamed, but didn’t.

And dammit if he didn’t seem to mess with my mind just as much.

He walked out of the bathroom wearing a pair of boxer briefs and nothing else.  To say the man had a droolworthy body was one of the greatest understatements of our time.  Lean but nicely muscled, with a six-pack and cut upper body.  His torso tapered down to narrow hips, a butt to truly die for, and long, strong legs.  I’d pictured him naked before, and the almost-there version was even better than my vivid imagination had been.

He sauntered to the chaise and plopped down on it, not even bothering to look my way.  “Bathroom’s free.”

I grabbed my overnight bag, muttering under my breath at myself as I headed in to change.

When I stared at myself in the mirror, I cursed the blush on my cheeks, the sparkle in my eye.  I’d enjoyed tonight way too much—and now I was sharing a room with one of the finest physical specimens I’d ever seen—and who I was actually starting to like.

As much as I could have stood there all night and dissembled, I had to decide what I was going to do, or not do, about my attraction to Jonah Summers.  No, it didn’t have to be tonight, but scratching that itch would certainly settle me down.  We were both adults, and the sparks that bounced between us weren’t one-sided.

Instead of giving myself a headache thinking about it, I washed my face, brushed my teeth and slipped into an extra long T-shirt.  Let Summers infer what he wanted.

That’s not to say I didn’t sneak a peek as I walked past the chaise, admiring his bare chest from above, where he couldn’t see my ogling.

Then I slipped into the bedroom and closed the door with a resounding click and finished my nightly ritual by lighting a candle for Bianca.


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