Well, I don't know how everyone else is doing, but I'm having a looooooooong slow week at the day job. Luckily I'm still making steady progress on Wolf's Hunt - and finding inspiration for my hero here and there... How about a look at what I've got him into?

Men like Shango didn’t give second chances. So yeah, there was something to lose. But Wolf had no intentions of being caught like last time. If the opportunity came, he’d kill the man.

He wrapped a black bandana around his distinctive red hair and took a quick look in the dusty mirror on the back of the bedroom door. A younger version of himself stared back. No cut and no gym logo. It felt weird.

Grim hammered on the door. “You done preening, pretty boy?”

“Guess so.” Wolf grabbed the gym bag he’d brought with him and stuffed his cut inside. His fingers hovered over the gun tucked away under his clothes. New Orleans permitted open carry, so he could take it if he wanted, but he kinda hoped he wasn’t going to need a gun tonight at least. Was it tempting fate to leave it behind?

Grim opened the door, sticking his head in. “Time and tide wait for no man, Danny Boy. You doing this or not?”

Wolf zipped the bag up, leaving the gun inside. “Nice quote. When did you learn to read?”

“I had a lot of free time after you left, since I wasn’t beating the hell out of you eight hours a day.”

“You beating the hell out of me? That’s not how I remember it. And since I’m the pretty one, I guess we know who remembers right.”

Grim chuckled and feinted at him. Wolf side-stepped, grabbing Grim's meaty fist. All jokes aside, Grim threw a hard punch, and Wolf's pretty face had definitely caught more than a fair share of blows over the years.

"C'mon," he said. "Let's go cause some trouble."

I have to admit, I don't need many excuses to indulge myself. If I have a good day at work, I deserve a full-fat Starbucks hot chocolate with whipped cream to celebrate. If I have a bad day at work, I definitely deserve an almond croissant to commiserate. Finished a story? I'll treat myself to some perfume! Signed a publishing contract? EVEN MORE PERFUME! Got out of bed on time on a rainy Monday morning? Ugh, I definitely deserve a new ebook or two for that. So it's probably not a massive surprise to learn I have an ever-growing list of "Things I'm Going to Treat Myself To As Soon As I Find an Excuse."

My number one vice is absolutely perfume. I adore indie perfume artists like Deep Midnight and Siberie Perfumes (and I particularly recommend their Thalia and Samira scents, respectively). I'm also a fiend for Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab, as every good perfume fanatic should be. I couldn't possibly pick a favourite BPAL scent, but I am partial to their Fenris Wolf. 

I honestly don't believe you can ever have too much perfume, but as I currently own more bottles of perfume than I do clothes, I am trying to indulge myself in other ways. I'm rediscovering nail polish at the moment. I don't often have the patience to sit and paint my nails, and then I don't have the patience to remove the polish when it chips, so my nails usually look rubbish approximately ten minutes after they've dried, but never mind. My favourite brands (indie again) at the moment are Incidental Twin and LA Cosmetics.

This is Iron Law from Incidental Twin's Greyjoy line. I love greys and silvers when it comes to make-up, and this is a beautiful pewter colour that allows me to show my support for Asha Greyjoy whilst also rocking perfect nails.

And this is Plum Roulade from LA Cosmetics, because purple is my favourite colour and I love the name.

And then there's ebooks. Oh my, then there are ebooks. Ever since my fiance bought me a Kindle for my birthday last year, I've pretty much stopped buying paperbacks altogether, apart from trade comic books. Instead I'm buying waaaaaaaaaaaay too many ebooks, which has helped me rediscover some old favourites and introduced me to some brand new favourites via books I wouldn't be able to get anywhere else. Some recent favourites include:

I think as vices go these are pretty harmless ones...except for maybe my quiet obsession with Steve Alten books...and right now I'm eagerly anticipating finishing up the first draft of Wolf's Hunt so I have an excuse to buy more nail polish.

Of course, that said, I did manage to get out of bed on time and it is a rainy Monday morning, so maybe a few new ebooks are in order...

Happy Hump Day, folks! How about a little man-candy to celebrate making it to mid-week? This guy isn't far off how I picture Wolf, the hero of my current WIP, Wolf's Hunt, so I'm just going to leave him here for...science.

And since we're talking Wolf, how about a taster of him in action? Read on for a snippet!

***

The ref raised his arm and bellowed “Fight!” The crowd erupted again, their bloodlust thick in the air. Glass swung at Wolf, his meaty fist aiming straight for Wolf’s face. Light on his feet, Wolf ducked inside his guard and rammed his fists into Glass’s kidneys with a one-two blow. While Glass wheezed, Wolf danced away again and kicked out, connecting hard with Glass’s shin. A hot red welt flared up on Glass’s skin and while he reeled from that, Wolf landed another kick on his other leg. The faster he got Glass off his feet, the faster he’d win.

Glass recovered his balance and swung at Wolf again. The blow clipped Wolf’s shoulder, but he shrugged it off and went in for another flurry of kicks. Glass had no formal training or background in MMA, unlike Wolf, and he didn’t know how to defend himself. All he knew was stand-up boxing and a couple of sloppy submission holds. That had done him fine so far against guys who just knew how to bang. Wolf had training in striking, grappling, and ground, the holy trinity for a good MMA fighter. He had an answer for every one of Glass’s moves, and it didn’t take long for the big man to get frustrated.

When Wolf broke away from him, Glass roared and charged like a bull, dropping his head. Wolf lunged forward, driving his knee up and connected solidly with Glass’s face. He couldn’t hear much over the crowd, but he felt the impact rattle all the way through his body, felt the splatter of blood, and knew he’d broken Glass’s nose.

Glass staggered back, eyes glazed, and Wolf rushed in with an uppercut. Glass went to his knees with a grunt. Wolf darted behind him and jumped on his back, forcing him face down to the mat. Wolf hooked his feet around Glass’s massive thighs and wrapped his arm around his neck, slipping him into a rear-naked choke with practiced ease. Feeling the hold locked in, he clasped his hands together and squeezed.

To give Glass his due, he held out longer than most would, trying to twist and throw Wolf off. But the knee to his face and the uppercut had rocked him too hard, and Wolf could feel the fight slipping out of him. The crowd exploded when he finally tapped out. Wolf released him and helped him to his feet. Glass’s face was a mask of blood and his nose was smashed. He wiped some of the blood away and gave Wolf a look that was half anger, half resignation.

“Guess I’m not gonna be so pretty no more,” he said, voice muffled and nasal.

Thanks for sharing in the release of my first full-length novel! I hope you enjoy reading about Kena and Luc as much as I enjoyed writing them. There's plenty of action, romance, and Vodou for everyone! I did a little Q&A about the book:

Q) How did you dream up the dynamics of your characters? Originally the story was going to be completely different when I wrote the first 5000 words or so of the book. But after I came back from the 2014 Romantic Times convention in New Orleans, I was inspired to write something with a Vodou/NOLA flair. So the book took a twist and became so much more than I ever imagined. I wanted a strong heroine and an alpha male. But Luc ended up being more of an Alpha/Beta blend. He's not really one or the other. He's quite complex. Kena ended up being a witty heroine who took things into her own hands.

Q) Do you have any habits that get you in the writing frame of mind? Music is my biggest influence. I listened to mainly instrumental gaming soundtracks while writing. But one of my Critique Partners burned me a CD of music she thought would be perfect for this book, and it was filled with great songs by The Black Keys, Rolling Stones, Zepplin, Jack White and Muse. It ended up really making scenes come alive for me.

Q) How much real life do you put into or influences your books? In this book I tried to make the characters reflect their Vodou based deities. I did take some artistic liberties and spun a few things, but I did a lot of research to make sure a lot of the intricacies of their actual descriptions and quirks made it into the story.

Blurb:

Vodou stole her life. A gay ghost stole her boots. And the man who stole her heart stole her memories. Kena plans to get it all back.

Ex-cop Kena's life is filled with regret, beer, and Cheetos. That is, until her ghostly roomie sends her dumpster diving, leading her to a sexy stranger named Luc and a fate she'd rather not remember. As Kena's memories resurface, so do her feelings for Luc, the man she's secretly been in love with for the last thousand years. And he needs her for more than a stroll down memory lane.

Vodou spirits, known as Loa, have been trapped in human form, and are trying to make their way back to the spirit world. But Luc's brother is possessed by a vengeance demon conjured at the hands of NOLA's crime syndicate kingpin. Saving him means damning herself to a spirit prison in a loveless, arranged union with the very man she's supposed to rescue. But not helping Luc's brother sentences him to death, leaving New Orleans in the hands of black magick, and losing Luc forever.

Excerpt:

After stripping out of the wet clothes, I wrapped the towel around myself and wandered out to his room. On the bed lay a white long-sleeve button-down shirt. With a hard swallow, I dropped the towel and picked up the shirt, pulling it to my face. I took a long, hard sniff. Laundry detergent. Of course. Did I think it would smell like him?

Like he'd give you a dirty shirt to wear, Kena.

Thankful he didn't witness me in idiot-mode, I slid myself into the shirt and was caught mid-button when he knocked at the door.

“Are you decent?” He pushed the door open a crack.

“I'm clothed, if that's what you mean. Decent is debatable at the moment.” Purposely leaving the top three buttons undone, I worked my way to the bottom button as he walked in.

He halted mid-stride and looked at me. His chest rose and fell in quick spurts, training his eyes over me from head to toe. Veins traversed the length of his arm as he clenched his fists at his sides. “I don't wear underwear, so I apologize I have no bottoms. It's all I had that was long enough to cover you.” His position relaxed as he leaned against the mahogany armoire.

“Anything's better than cold, sopping-wet clothes.” I ran a finger through my hair, now slowly drying into loose stringy curls.

“So, are you going to tell me what happened tonight?” Folding his arms across his broad chest, bulging muscles stretched the navy-blue fabric barely covering his biceps.

I shook my head. “Not until I get some honesty from you, big guy.”

With a tilt of his head, he donned a sly grin. “You haven't asked the right questions.”

“Is this a game for you? Do you enjoy messing with people's lives? Do you get off on some fucked-up high being in total control?” My fingernails burrowed into the palm of my hand. Everything in me wanted to slap the shit out of him and then ride him like a cowboy.

He pushed off the dresser and walked over to me, lowering his head coming to a stop inches from my face. “You're the one in control and yet you refuse to acknowledge it. You refuse to let your mind accept it. Stop playing and start being.”

“What do you want from me?” I yelled, a little louder than intended.

“I want you to be you. I want you to”—he stopped and dropped his gaze to my lips, and then slowly made his way back up to my eyes—“come back.”

“Kiss me.” The words rushed from my lips without another thought. My heart hammered so hard in my chest I thought it would shatter my rib cage.

His breathing quickened. A low growl rumbled in his throat. “Don't do this to me, Kena.”

“Don't do what? You're the one doing things to me.” I slammed my hands against his chest and he sailed across the room, his back hitting the dresser behind him. “Shit! I'm sorry.” I reached out for him with a trembling hand.

Fuck, I’d done it again.

He shook his head and straightened himself up. In a blur of movement, he shot across the room and grabbed onto either side of my shirt, yanking me up to his face. “You want me to kiss you?”

“Yes,” I said in more of whooshing sound than a word.

He pressed his lips against my neck and his fingers curled into the fabric of the shirt, pulling me onto my tiptoes. “You don't even know who I am.”

“I don't care.” Words no longer made sense to me, only his touch spoke a language I could understand.

He laughed as he pushed me against the wall. Gripping the back of my head with the entire palm of his hand, he splayed the other across my cheek, his thumb resting against my jawline. Tilting my head back, he hovered his lips over mine. “You will.”

His lips crushed against my mouth.

With a sweep of his tongue, he devoured me into a kiss the likes of which I've never experienced before in my life. He punished my mouth with his tongue, sliding it over mine in a delicious dance of ecstasy and aggression. His hold on me was not that of violence, but of passion. The way his fingertips eased against my face, yet held me there as if he was scared to let go, revealed a vulnerability. He may be a man of few words who knew how to play the vague card, but his body and actions gave him away.

I arched into him, and he pinned me back against the wall with his hip. Clawing at his shirt, I ripped it out of his jeans and slid my fingers over his heated skin. A surge of energy rushed my fingertips as they glided along his body, electrifying me.

“Fuck, Kena,” he hissed, pulling back from the kiss.

In a movement so fast it blurred everything around me, he shot out the door, slamming it behind him. He left me gasping, clinging to the wall behind me just to remain standing. My legs wobbled like Jell-O as I stumbled to the bed and collapsed. He sucked all the air from my body and replaced it with an ache, a driving need for more of him.

What the hell was he?

Buy Links

Amazon | All Romance eBooks | Evernight Publishing | Book Strand |Smashwords | Barnes & Noble

Author Bio:

Wren Michaels hails from the frozen tundra of Wisconsin where beer and cheese are their own food groups. But a cowboy swept her off her feet, and carried her away below the Mason-Dixon line where she promptly lost all tolerance for snow and cold. They decided they'd make beautiful babies together and they got it right on the first try. Now Wren lives happily ever after in the real world and in the worlds of her making, where she creates book boyfriends for the masses to crave.

Facebook | Twitter | Amazon Page | Website | Tsu | Goodreads

My boy is out in the wild! It's release day for TANNER'S WAR! Got your copy yet? You can find it at all these places:

Evernight
AllRomanceEbooks
Amazon US
Amazon UK

It probably goes without saying that I'm super excited! I hope you're going to love it (because I'm already working on Wild Blood 2!)

I've been writing all my life. Really I have - as soon as I learnt to write, I started writing stories. My first masterpiece was a book about stars at primary school, which included such well-documented scientific facts as "stars are pointy." Innocent times.

I did a degree in Creative Writing and as soon as I graduated, I started working seriously towards publication. That was...um...ten years ago now. And you know what, I succeeded! I've been published multiple times, I've had interest from agents, I've won awards, I get good reviews, and I dare say I'm pretty damn good at this whole writing thing.

But you know, I've kind of played it safe over the years. I love, love, love urban fantasy, the supernatural, occult, and mythical, and that's where my writing has largely stayed. Tomorrow that changes. Tomorrow I'm stepping completely out of my comfort zone with TANNER'S WAR. And I'm pretty nervous! What if it sucks? What if I'm just no good at anything other than urban fantasy/paranormal? What if everyone hates it?


These are pretty big thoughts to be dealing with on a Monday morning, so I'm comforting myself with a good cup of vanilla and almond tea, and reminding myself that I have nothing to worry about...that I don't normally worry about when I have a new book out. Every new book is a gamble, and of course, yes, some people will hate it. That's life and that's fine. I've hated plenty of books in my time (including some I wrote myself, in retrospect). But if I let those kind of anxieties rule me, I'd never attempt to publish anything ever again.

And you know what? I actually think TANNER'S WAR is a great story. It's sexy, fast-paced, there's action, there's humour, there's love, there's snakes...Stepping out of that comfort zone was amazing! I had so much fun writing it, I just want everyone else to have fun reading it. And I think you will...Meanwhile I'm going to distract myself the best way I know how - by writing another book.

So yesterday I got the cover art mock-up for TANNER'S WAR. AND I LOVE IT! So I'm delighted to have the final finished version to show off today. No time-wastin' - let's get to it. Feast your eyes on this!

Excuse me while I fan myself. It's perfect! And I love the Wild Blood MC logo there. And the good news it, you don't have to wait long to get stuck into TANNER'S WAR - because it's going to be out on Tuesday 14th July! Just a few days away! Who's ready for some hot biker action? I know I am!

In the future, Earth negotiated a treaty with the Shadalla, only to wage another war with the Juxtant. Together, humans and Shadalla defeat that mortal enemy, but corruption and greed always prevails.

Vayne Palldyn, Sovereign of the planet Nibiru, is determined that his species not become extinct, and will take revenge on those who unleashed that genetic bio weapon. His kind has kidnapped human women before, and despite the Treaty none returned to Earth—the Shadalla have a biological advantage in seducing Chosen mates.  

Honorably discharged warrior Neira Grekhov boards the starship Astris, seeking peace but succumbing to soul sickness. Until the Astris is boarded by pirates.

Spying Neira ferociously defending her fellow passengers, Vayne pursues her, as his Chosen. Neira resists, and despite healing her emotionally the Sovereign wonders if he must concede defeat at the hands of this infuriating woman.


Then the stars align and truths are discovered… 

Buy it now from:
Evernight Publishing
AllRomanceEbooks
Bookstrand
Amazon

Read on for an excerpt!

Daggers at the ready, the three pirates once again approached the doors. Vayne spied a young, fair-haired male standing wide-eyed, his mouth dropping open as Barek, Duff and their Captain charged from the lift. Vayne followed on their heels, wincing as they mowed the young man down with a hit to the head. Then all chaos descended.

A significantly smaller figure, dressed completely in black, waded into the triangle of pirates. It laid Barek low with well-placed blows to his knees and an uppercut to his jaw as he fell to the ground. The baton inflicting the punishment flashed in a blur of movement to match the warrior’s whirling grace. Vayne was already moving to assist when the fighting dervish dealt with Duff, body moving with grace and deadly intent, bringing the pirate down with punishment to his kidneys. Short black hair gleamed in the harsh lighting as the warrior spun to take on Captain Ristos.

Vayne used his shocker, nearly catching one slender, black clad shoulder as their opponent made contact with Ristos’ ribcage, the baton making a dull, wet sound. But the little warrior whirled out of range, turning to renew the attack, and the bolt spent itself harmlessly against the bulkhead. Vayne’s cock filled and stood at full attention, causing him considerable discomfort in his tight-fitting space uniform. By the shades of Turco, it was a female. He locked eyes with orbs a brilliant shade of the golden gemstones so prized on his planet before she charged, moving gracefully on the balls of her bare feet.

“He dies!” Duff’s howl cut through the tension as Vayne prepared to defend himself, and the female halted, stumbling as she did so. Duff held his weapon at the young male’s throat, vicious intent written across his features.

“No, don’t,” the lithe beauty called out, and Vayne watched, transfixed, as she dropped to her knees, carefully laying down the lethal weapon she used so efficiently. She then clasped her hands behind her neck.

Nothing in her posture spoke of true submission, but it didn’t matter to Vayne’s cock. That appendage throbbed painfully and he was at a loss as to how to calm it. Never had he ever… Vayne struggled to make his body move. Ristos moved first.

Kicking aside the baton, he gestured to Duff, who released his hold on the still-unconscious young male. Was this woman attached to the man? Vayne shook his head. It didn’t matter. She was now his.

“Secure her.”

Ristos bent and clipped a pair of solar cuffs around the woman’s wrists, and Vayne approved of how efficient the captain was, yet afforded the little female respect. He wasn’t the only male to appreciate her attempt to defend this deck. The restraints emitted slight whirring sounds as they engaged. Charged by any light source, they were virtually impervious to tampering and would open only to the owner’s print. Vayne pulled the control from the captain’s hand, entered his own print to replace that of Ristos’, then crushed the control beneath his boot.

As desperate as the Shadalla were, their scientists had confirmed the compatibility of Earth females to breed and bear their children, and some of his species’ males had actually found their chosen. Gone was Vayne’s need to merely pick a female out of the women on this ship, using careful parameters to ensure she was suited for his position, able to bear his children, and of a nature and appearance to stimulate his desires in order to put those offspring in her belly. Royal concubines weren’t unheard of, after all, and the odds of him finding a chosen were slight. But he couldn’t look any further, impossibly drawn to this imperious warrior at his feet. And should he ever be fortunate enough to find an actual chosen mate, this lovely woman would retain concubine status, regardless.

“Bring the men out. Offer. I’ll send my exec to scrutinize the females.” He wasn’t that overwhelmed to forget he had a duty to other men in his service.

He reached down and fit a hand under the elbow of the female, and his world turned upside down. The physical attraction had been immediate, granted. But the instant he touched her and her scent enveloped him, his brain exploded with a revelation he’d only experienced once in his life—and a very subdued and pale version at that. One manipulated by science. Vayne didn’t need another minute with her to understand the symptoms and wished to shout his joy out loud. She was a chosen and not his future concubine. She came up with the lightness of gossamer, and only his quick reflexes saved him from a knee to the groin as he turned to catch the blow on his thigh. Little spitfire. 

Author Bio:

 Allyson Young lives in cottage country in Manitoba, Canada with her husband of many years and numerous pets. She worked in the human services all across Canada and has seen the best and worst of what people bring to the table. Allyson has written for years, mostly short stories and poetry, published in small newspapers and the like, although her work appeared in her high school yearbooks too! After reading an erotic romance, quite by accident, she decided to try her hand at penning erotica.

Allyson will write until whatever she has inside her is satisfied- when all the heroes man up and all the heroines get what they deserve. Love isn’t always sweet, and Allyson favours the darker side of romance.

 http://www.allysonyoung.com

 allysonyoung45@gmail.com

 

This past weekend I've been working on the first round of edits for TANNER'S WAR. Edits are always an exciting part of the writing process, because they mean I'm one step closer to getting a release date and some gorgeous cover art. It's also a nerve-wracking part of the process, because part of me is always convinced I've actually written an atrociously bad story, and I'm going to open the manuscript to a sea of red marks and "WHAT WERE YOU THINKING???" comments from the editor.

Fortunately this is yet to actually happen outside of my imagination, but I still like to prepare myself for that possibility by having a few home comforts on hand to see me through.

1. Tea.

I admit it: I'm a tea snob. Loose leaf only, please, and brewed to my exact specification and served with full fat milk (or cream, if there's cream on hand). None of this semi-skimmed nonsense. I scour the internet far and wide for unusual, one-of-a-kind teas, and right now I'm on a Beastly Beverages kick.

This is "Better The Devil You Know" from their Hannibal-inspired selection. Black tea, calandula petals, sunflower petals, and rum flavouring. I'm unashamedly drinking it with cream and it's delicious. The perfect comfort drink, and I imagine it would be just as good (or possibly better) with a glug of actual rum in it.

2. Chocolate.

I'm an unrepentant chocoholic and I don't want to be cured. I'll eat anything even vaguely chocolatey, but I do try to stick to darker chocolate (in possibly a misguided belief that it's better for me). Recently we've been sticking as closely as possibly to a paleo eating plan, and I've discovered the simple beauty of making my own chocolate bark. Melt up loads of really dark chocolate, stir in your choice of dried fruit and nuts (I love walnut and banana chip!), freeze it, smash it, and enjoy. The nice thing about chocolate bark as a snack is that if you use really good quality dark chocolate, it's almost impossible to binge on. Really, I've tried. One batch of bark will last me for days, thus seeing me nicely though the entire editing process. And hey, there's fruit in it. Healthy, right?

3. Music.

I've probably said before that I rarely write to music. When you live with a gamer, you get used to your background noise being Grand Theft Auto 5 or Arma 3, and you learn to tune it out and work regardless. But on those rare occasions where I'm alone in the house, I do love to browse 8tracks for playlists to write/edit to. My current favourites are Girls of Satin, Girls of Stone, Blood on the Bluegrass, and The Gospel of Mary Magdalene. All very different, but all beautiful.

I've also been listening obsessively to Florence and the Machine's new album, particularly this track:

And of course, most important of all is the tireless support of my beautiful assistant, Fergus: