Wednesday, October 31, 2012

Prizes and Spooky Fun!

In keeping with the Spooky fun, LASR and Whipped Cream are having a Halloween Blogfest! The theme of the day is real life ghostly encounters and other chilling things - I've chosen to write about an incident that happened over 20 years ago that I've never before commited to the page. It really happened and it's still creepy, so if you're curious, come over and check it out:

Oh, did I mention you could win some wonderful prizes? Books, gift certificates, and other fun stuff!! See you there!

Tuesday, October 30, 2012

Guest: Maggie Jaimeson

Healing Notes
by Maggie Jaimeson


Forgiving yourself is the first step, but helping others forgive may be just too hard.

Rachel Cullen grew up in Scotland with a fiddle in her hand from the age of four. She couldn't imagine life as anything but a musician. When her husband brought her to America she was immediately embraced by the Celtic and Bluegrass communities. But after her divorce, Rachel's life is a mess.

A year of trying to prove to herself that she's woman enough for any man, and then a vicious rape while on tour with the band, leaves Rachel reeling. When she meets Noel Kershaw, an English teacher who is poetry in motion, she is definitely attracted. But he has a young child and he's suffering from his own divorce. The last thing Rachel needs in life is more baggage.

First, Rachel must reconcile who she is, what she wants, and how to get there. Maybe then she'll know how to be a part of the family she's always wanted.

Excerpt Three:

Claire crawled onto a stool on the other side of the island and smiled.  Neither of them talked for several minutes as they listened to the water in the pot heat.

“When I grow up, I’m going to play with Sweetwater Canyon all the time.”

“Are you sure you want to hang out with all us old folks?”

“You’re not all old. Well maybe a little old. But Kat isn’t old.”

Rachel smiled. “That’s true. She’s only seventeen.” And going on twenty-five it seemed sometimes.

“Oh, seventeen? That is old.” Claire put a finger to her lips and furrowed her brow. “How old do I have to be to play in the band all the time?”

“Probably at least eighteen.”

“But, you just said Kat—”

“Kat is different, because her mother plays in the band and can watch her all the time.”

“Well, you can watch me all the time. You can be my mother.”

Rachel gulped.

“Well, can’t you?”

“Can’t she what?” Noel walked in the room and lifted Claire off the chair in a big hug, swinging her around the room. “Can’t she what? She can do anything she wants.”

“See,” Claire leaned forward and looked at Rachel over Noel’s shoulder. “See, even Daddy thinks you can be my mother.”

“Whoa.” Noel set Claire back on the stool. “I’m not sure what I walked in on here.” He sent an accusing glance to Rachel. “You already have a mother, Claire.”

“I know. Not my real mother. My second mother. You know, like my friend, Megan. Her mommy and daddy got divorced and her daddy married a new mommy. So, Megan has two mommies now.  See?  Rachel can be my second mommy. Okay?”


AUTHOR Bio and Links:

Maggie Jaimeson writes romantic women’s fiction and romantic suspense with a near future twist. She describes herself as a wife, a step-mother, a sister, a daughter, a teacher and an IT administrator. By day she is “geek girl” – helping colleges to keep up with 21st century technology and provide distance learning options for students in rural areas. By night Maggie turns her thoughts to worlds she can control – worlds where bad guys get their comeuppance, women triumph over tragedy, and love can conquer all.

HEALING NOTES is the second book in the Sweetwater Canyon Series of four books.  The final two books will be available in 2013.

* * * CONTEST * * *

Maggie will award one autographed cover flat to a randomly drawn commenter. In addition, she will award a $25 gift card to either Amazon or Barnes and Noble (winner's choice) as a grand prize to one randomly selected commenter on this tour, and a $25 gift certificate to either Amazon or Barnes and Noble (winner's choice) to a randomly drawn host. You must leave an email address to be entered into any of the drawings.

Wednesday, October 17, 2012

Celebrating a NEW RELEASE!

Genre: Historical Western - sensual romance
Available from Barnes&Noble, Amazon, ARe, and others

Blurb: Clay Butler is a man who rules the quiet town of Cedar Springs with an iron will, and a code of honor that defines all he is. But the past haunts him, and the loss of a woman who was his second chance at happiness weighs heavily on his over-burdened mind...


The stage came thundering to a stop a short distance from the Lucky Star Saloon, and the driver, a man called Noah, shouted greetings, his laughter filling the air outside the carriage. Inside, the sole passenger fought down waves of nerve-induced nausea.

Amber Hamilton clutched her stomach for a second, and offered Noah a weak smile when he opened the door and held out his hand to help her to the street. The ground below her feet was hard, still frozen by winter. In a few weeks the road would be a mire of mud.

Butler’s gonna be a happier man than he’s been lately, once he sees you, Miss Amber.”

Her smile brightened a little and she touched his arm in a gesture of appreciation.

“I hope you’re right, Noah,” she replied, though the knot of apprehension didn’t ease in the slightest.

“I know I am, ma’am,” he said with a grin.

Amber hesitated, stared up at the balcony that ran across the front of the club. Clay’s door should have been open. He should have been perched at the corner, smoking, smiling at the people who populated the busy street. The shutters were still down, and there was stillness about the place that was unnerving.

“He’s not out of town, is he?” Inside, she knew he was only a short distance away; she could feel his presence as keenly as if he stood next to her.

“No, ma’am,” Noah answered, then turned to shout at Walker.

Amber turned as well and saw guarded curiosity in Jesse Walker’s light blue eyes as he halted next to the stage. He hadn’t changed much in the past six months. Walker was still the scruffy, attractive, mysterious, outwardly hard man she’d always felt mildly intimidated by. Yet, there was a peace in his manner that had been absent before. She spotted the silver star pinned to his vest and inquisitiveness all but ran away with her.

“It’s nice to see you again, Mr. Walker.” She smiled. “Sheriff Walker?” she corrected with enough surprise to make it a question. Jenny and Austin had always wanted him to be the Sheriff of the town, he’d never been interested. She admired Jesse, he was one of the few men who challenged Clay, and kept him from crossing lines from which there would be no returning.

Butler know you’re back?” Walker acknowledged her greeting with a nod of his head, and ignored the query she hadn’t directly made.

* * * * CONTEST - GIVEAWAY * * * *

Anyone who buys a copy of any book on my catalogue between now and Sunday night, and sends me a copy of the receipt or writes a review and sends me the link will get a copy of this title and a set of 7 beautiful full-colour, laminated bookmarks, featuring the covers of some of my newest releases, including this one!

WINNER will be announced on Monday, October 22nd.

Saturday, October 13, 2012

Inside the Publishing World - Part One

This is the first interview in a new series I’m doing with the people who work behind the scenes of publishing. Those who accept the books, promote them, edit them, etc., the inner workings of the publishing houses. We so often see only the finished books, or hear the authors either praise or bitch about their experiences, I thought it might be nice to showcase a cross-section of the professionals who make all the books happen.

My first guest is Penny Adams, the Vice President and Acquisitions Manager at Toronto publishing house XoXo Publishing™, so let’s get to the interview.

1. How long have you been handling day to day operations at XoXo Publishing™, and what does your typical workday involve?

I have been with XoXo for  two years now. I started off as the acquisitions editor and am now the C.O.O.  . My typical work day begins bright and early answering emails, , contacting various staff to see how things are progressing; from edits to formats to covers.  . At some point I get to the submissions as that is still my main job. As I cannot possibly read that much I will look at the first few paragraphs. If it looks like a decent read, I will then pass it on to a couple of people that will read it and give me an honest opinion. If they disagree then I have to read more and make the decision to publish or not.

2. On average, how many manuscripts does your house vet in the run of a month?

On average it’s about 100  per month.

3. What is the most frustrating aspect of your job, in terms of the authors who are submitting to you?

When and author sends a ‘sample chapter’ with instructions to go their blog and or they paste most of the story in to the body of the email. There seems to be a lack of common sense and a complete lack of professionalism in far too many cases.

4. What is your most rewarding experience (to date) in this business?

The amazing people I have met, and have made friends with. I love this business and the learning process that goes with it. I came in knowing nothing and still consider myself a novice, but one that is more than willing to do what it takes to make this a very successful company. 

5. If you could give aspiring authors one piece of advice to always keep in mind, what would it be?

Follow the submission guidelines to a T. There is nothing more annoying than reading a very good cover letter then glance down at the attachment and see it is in the wrong format.

6. In your experience, what is the biggest failing with regard to authors and their understanding of what’s expected from them when the contract is signed?

Many do not realise this is a business.  . As such your book is a product, one of many that we have. We will do what we can to get your product out there. What are you, as an author going to do to drive people to buy your book? The name of the game is sales, and we are all sales people of a product that being a book. If you are in it for fame, do not apply.

7. Be blunt, what is your pet peeve about being in publishing? And, in reverse, what is the part of the business you like best?

Everyone thinks they are a writer.  . That is true in less than 5% of the books that are submitted for consideration. When I get a book that is repetitive, full of spelling and grammatical errors I   simply want to scream. Sadly with those same submissions comes an ego the size of a football field and they appear to have a sense of entitlement, like they are doing me a huge favour by submitting their masterpiece. They treat the business like it’s a game to be played.  . On the reverse side, I get the professional author. They are helpful, understanding of the business and while we may not agree on everything, we agree to disagree and end up finding a middle ground. I love working with those people, they are true rare gems in this world.

8. Since we’ve discussed your most rewarding experience, what has been the one that made you want to forget your professionalism and just “react”?

Oh there are many but the one thing that will do it for me, is an unjustified attack on our authors and or staff. At that point I just want to throw the gloves down and have an all out brawl. 

9. All publishing houses have problem authors, if you were to have the chance to tell your authors as a group what NOT to do, what would you tell them?

Do not come to me with a problem and then run to the owner of the company hoping for a different outcome, or vice versa. We do our best to treat everyone fairly. The divas and divos quickly get put on the termination list. We have over 100 current authors and more coming in every day. I don’t care if you are a best selling author or a brand new one, you cannot quit learning this craft, there is always room for improvement. Support your fellow in house authors. If they are blogging take a second of your time to stop in and say a few words. If they have a contest, repost, they will do the same for you.  . One of biggest sources of support  besides family and friends are the people in the same business as you. Don’t overlook that valuable resource.

10. What do you feel are the trending genres in your business at the moment?

Sweet romance is on the rise. BDSM of course is also on the rise . Vampires and werewolves are not as popular but are still holding their own. Sensuous romance  remains timeless. 

In closing, if you have any general comments or observations you’d like to make, please feel free to add your personal remarks.

I cannot stress enough, if someone wishes to be published, before you even dream of sending work to a publisher, get some beta readers. If you have close friends who are avid readers and are not afraid to be honest, that might be your most valued resource as a writer. They have to tell you honestly what works and what does not. Check your ego at the door and hone your craft. Today’s best seller can be knocked down and off the charts in a heartbeat to never see another book sell again. Be true to yourself while writing, write what you love. Study, learn and keep on studying and learning. You can only get better. Never ever assume because you were published once that it will happen again. Always check the publishers guidelines just prior to submitting.  . What was on there last week may not be on there today. Ensure your information is current and up to date.

Thank you, Penny. Future interviews will features editors, owners, and at least one cover artist - this entire series of interviews will be compiled next year as a special feature issue of Sensual Treats Magazine, as well.

Friday, October 05, 2012

Out of the Past - a novel

Two five star reviews on Amazon, and Night Owl Romance rates it a 4, if you haven't checked it out already, settle in with a novel that gives you a complex plot with mixed genre elements:

OUT OF THE PAST is a paranormal thriller that is part historical and part modern day. The first reviewer stated: "Out of the Past is a crime-mystery, a thriller, a romance—intensely sensual, interweaving 1880's London with present day Toronto in a heady blend of carefully constructed scenes and a cast of characters that bring the story to life with an undeniable authenticity.  This is a tale that will satisfy on many levels. I heartily recommend it for your 'must read' list. Well done, Denysé Bridger."
I hope you'll have a look, and enjoy it if you decide it's to your reading taste!
A new paranormal romance/mystery novel
Buy it from AMAZON 
eBook Page count: 260
A series of killings has the Toronto Police Department in turmoil. The press has labelled the killer a "werewolf" and hysteria is on the rise in the heat of the summer… Detective Damien Knightley is the lead investigator, but he's got secrets of his own that need guarding in this very public investigation. Knightley is a vampire, and as the case gets more complex, what he discovers has him both baffled and worried.
In the Northern Ontario town of Brighton, a visionary woman finds a stranger outside her door, and because he's near death she brings him into her home. In the wake of her kindness, dreams and visions expose things that terrify her. The stranger is a wolf, and history is about to repeat itself and explode in violent death if they can't reach Toronto and capture a renegade on a blood-hunt.
As Damien recalls a love from a century ago, the threads of time are being pulled together, joining the past and the present. The beautiful woman he is falling in love with is bringing back memories he'd rather forget, and when the killer is finally revealed, there are more questions than answers in the identity…


             The flames rose, blindingly intense, searing away the last vestiges of reality. Somewhere inside her, Shanna Blackthorne felt a scream of terror begin. Her hands moved, sluggishly, as though through mud, until they reached her face. She wanted to obliterate the inferno that raged before her, but it refused to be extinguished so easily. She gulped air into desperate, struggling lungs, but only the hot, dry fire poured into her body.
             The scream escaped.
             There was no one to hear it.
             Pain exploded within her, but in its wake was clarity. She writhed, whimpered weakly, and shook her head in denial of what unfolded before objecting eyes...
             Fog shrouded the night, curling, mist-like tentacles that floated above the street in search of human warmth. Despite the relative earliness of the hour, the normally busy roads were eerily quiet. Only the occasional burst of noise from an opening door gave evidence to the teeming life of the vast city. Outside the noisy pubs, a lone figure prowled the streets.
             He watched, and waited. Patience was a familiar imposition, but it ended well, usually.
             Tonight would be no different.
             He picked one of the oldest dives in the vicinity, a place he knew well. He also knew most of the women who frequented the establishment. He had long ago decided he preferred the sweetness of feminine flesh to males. There was one lady in particular that he had wanted to get close to, but she had always eluded him. It was the eve of a new year tonight, and he decided it would begin with her company.
             He didn't have to wait long, but she emerged from the tavern with another man in tow. Furious, he followed.
             He hesitated as he watched the couple from the mouth of a darkened alley. They were less than a block from the Britannia, a public house located at the North corner of Commercial Street and Dorset Street. He'd witnessed the customary exchange of coin, and could clearly hear the sounds of the whore's business being carried out. The chill of December didn't reach him as he continued to hover, torn between his anger and the fury of his lust. He could have had his pick tonight, but he had chosen this one. She had always disappointed him, of course. The entire great city was in a drunken Holiday stupor.
             The scents of sex and sweat teased his senses and he felt another, stronger pang of hunger deep within him.
             He stepped into the alley and approached the couple in complete silence. She knew he was there, he realized a moment later when her liquor-brightened eyes pierced the shadows and found him in the darkness. His heartbeat quickened, he heard his own sharp intake of breath, felt the rapid pulse he'd learned to associate with fear and excitement. Her customer quickly pulled himself together and stumbled off without a backward glance. The passage of time held hunter and prey motionless, clear blue eyes locked with glassy hazel. When she held out her hand to him, he stepped toward her.
             "You're not like the others, are you?" she questioned in a slurred voice.
             There was still enough awareness to make him pause. He took her chin in his hand and tilted her head so he could look more closely at her. She was very young, especially for life in Whitechapel. She was not overly pretty. Before long she would be like so many of the women who populated this area, aged by the harshness of a life that meant little to any of them.
             "What's your name?"  He pretended not to know as he kept his tone a gentle, compassionate whisper.
             "They call me Emma, my lord," she grinned, the expression exposed rotting teeth and foul breath. He might have been wrong about her age, he realized distantly. She straightened her clothes and inched closer to him. Here was a handsome young lord, and if she played this right, she might be rewarded richly for her trouble.
             "Do they?"  He smiled, imagined he could hear the shift of her thoughts as she contemplated her chances of successfully robbing him. Still smiling, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a gold coin. Her eyes fastened on the proffered money, greed easily read past the haze of alcohol. When she snatched the coin from his hand, he pressed her back against the cold brick of the building.
             Emma's spurt of laughter was abruptly silenced when her head was yanked to one side. The snap of bones was audible, followed by a groan of pain. Then the only murmur that could be heard in the blackness was the soft maddened laughter of pleasure as his teeth tore her flesh from her bones...

             "No... Dear God!  Enough... please?"
             Shanna wept bitterly, disoriented and horrified by the latest dream/vision. The savage inner conflagration had receded, replaced by the reality of the tiny blaze in the ancient stone fireplace that dominated her small living room. There was little comfort in the awareness that what she had seen was very old. The agony of the killer still twisted around her heart, chilled her despite the heat that emanated from the hearth. This was simply the latest in a long line of dreams that had brought unbearable terror into her life. She'd heard about the others, those that were not ancient deaths, but happening now, and with each murder came the fear that she might have stopped it. The reasonable part of her mind knew better, of course, she never saw a death before it occurred, but that did not make it easier to witness people being destroyed. She cringed, tried to escape the rest of the thought, failed. She could still feel the flesh being torn from fragile bones, muscle and sinew shredding like paper in the hands of a killer that was more monster than man.
             She forced herself to her feet, and walked into the lovely, old-fashioned kitchen. As she went through the ritual of making tea, she made herself recall every detail of the murder she had been forced to witness and feel. Within the heart of the killer was a conflict as old as the latest vision itself.
             Pain, coupled with deeply repressed fears. The mind of this killer was not mayhem and madness, despite the obvious appearances. She sensed agony, and loneliness, and confusion. Like an empath, she absorbed the emotions, made them part of herself, and cried softly without truly being conscious she did so. Shanna had known isolation and ridicule in her own life, knew what the scorn and contempt of others could drive someone to, if they didn't learn to draw on inner strengths.
             She pulled her lacy shawl closer to her, huddled against its illusory warmth. Long waves of auburn hair fell to her waist, and she swept the heavy fall back in a gesture as natural as breathing. The whistle of the kettle drew her wandering attention back to mundane tasks, and she finished her chore automatically.
             A short while later, curled before the fire once again, Shanna shivered. Her gaze flew to the door of her cottage- style home, and the sound of a low, anguished howl wrenched at her soul. Pure, raw agony flooded her body, and with it came a terror stronger than anything she had ever before known.

Monday, October 01, 2012

Guest: Kelly Whitley

Hello and welcome to the 1st stop in Sensuous Promos Book Blog Tour for Kelly Whitley’s, Into The Red. Throughout this blog hop – which runs October 1st through October 28th – there will be 5 stops. At the end of which all commentators (from all the blog stops) will be eligible to win a free eBook copy of Into The Red. The winner will be announced on October 29th in the evening and posted in the comments sections of all the stops. Please remember to leave your email address so we can contact the winner and get you your prize!


Once upon a time, Kelly dreamed of becoming an entomologist, then a gymnast, and then an architect. Instead, a career in healthcare became the chosen path. After years of devouring other people's books, she decided to give writing a try. An arduous journey and many hot fudge sundaes later, her first paranormal romantic suspense debuted in July 2012.

Now she writes a variety of fiction, spanning the genres from humor to paranormal, and flash fiction to full-fledged novels. A career in the medical field and interests like painting and home restoration provide plenty of inspiration for the characters who find themselves populating her stories.
An ideal day consists of coffee, no phone, and writing quirky characters for her fans to fall in love with. Stop by, where the paranormal is an everyday occurrence and get your fix for vampires, werewolves, shifters and more. Kelly loves visitors, human and otherwise.

Kelly lives in the Rocky Mountain Midwest. Contact her at :


Human blood is an illicit and highly addictive drug--if you're a vampire. Known as Red, its side effects are insanity, and eventual death. A group of Red-addicted vampires known as Poisoners are killing women as part of an extortion plot involving a lost ancient vampiric tome, and they’re leaving a trail of bodies in their wake. The discovery of each new victim risks exposure of the entire vampire race to humans. Then one victim survives…

Dr. Evan Nichols, oncologist and vampire, lives a monk-like existence, by his own choice, focusing on patient care and research to benefit his vampire brethren. It’s been twenty-five years since his world turned upside down—the night he lost his fiancee and discovered his hidden vampire heritage. Now his government has ordered him to take a mate—or they’ll choose one for him. It’s a horrible prospect, and one that might push him over the edge—until Fate throws him together with a human female.

Wary of relationships, Tara West has poured her energies into work and inventing cutting edge climbing equipment. She doesn’t like the gorgeous Dr. Nichols, yet finds herself unaccountably drawn to him.

When a crazed vampire attacks and poisons Tara, Evan rescues her. With time running out, he has to create an antidote to the poison before he loses his chance at love.

In order to make the vaccine which might cure her, he has to find the bastards who poisoned her and take their venom—before they die of their addiction. If he doesn’t reach them in time, saving her will be impossible.
Thus the journey begins—into the Red!


Her eyes closed half way, the dilated pupils darkening the hazel. The bedroom expression from his drawing. She shifted toward him. “Win?”

He moved close enough to whisper in her ear. “Win.”

He bent his head to the hollow of her neck and inhaled, pulling her scent inside him. God, she smelled good. Clean, floral, and female. He had to know what her lips felt like. One kiss. Just one, and he’d go.

The atmosphere charged—equal parts anticipation and need.

Not a good idea, no matter how much he wanted it.

He should leave now.

Evan drew back and caught a glimpse of her tongue moistening her lips. Control slipped away, and he buried his hand in her hair and pulled her in for a kiss.

The first brush of his lips on hers, an electrifying sweep, shrank his world down to the two of them.

Her mouth had the perfect balance of heat and tenderness, fitting perfectly with his. Jesus, he hadn’t experienced this for so long, and it felt so good. He pressed his lips more firmly against hers. Slender fingers wove into his hair, and pleasure cascaded down his back and set off pressure in his groin. God, he should stop.

He pulled her into his embrace.

Damn good to hold a woman, warm and vital, after all these years of a cold and solitary existence. Tara had awakened a hunger, and he hadn’t realized the degree of his starvation until now. He had to get a taste of her.

He teased her lips with his tongue, and groaned in delight when she sighed and allowed him access. A flavor explosion—orange juice and chocolate chip cookies and steamy human woman, hot and vital. He stroked her tongue, penetrating, probing, shifting his mouth over hers to deepen the dance.

Tara gripped his shoulders, each one of her fingernails triggering tiny sparks of pleasure that flashed down to the small of his back.

Her enthusiasm was unmistakable. She wanted him too.

What would she feel like under him, his body buried in hers? Blood pulsed through him headed for destinations south, and his erection throbbed in readiness, shoving against his zipper.

Too fast, needed to slow down before his libido went off the rails.

As if sensing his thoughts, Tara broke the kiss but didn’t pull back. The heat of her breath warmed his jaw. At least one of them had sense.

Nope. He hadn’t gotten enough.

He captured her lips and mated his tongue with hers, and electric anticipation spread out across his skin. The fragrance of arousal poured off him, smelling of smoky bergamot, the unique signature of claiming and possession.

A mating scent. A whiff of answering desire hit his nostrils.

Had to get her closer, get his essence on her skin. He wrapped an arm around her waist. Soft breasts pressed against his chest, moving in concert with his breathing, and pushed desire to need.

So. Damn. Good.

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