Sunday, December 29, 2013

Enter to Win a Copy of Galen and the Forest Lord

 I hope everyone had great holidays and are now looking forward to a brand new year. 

I'm a bit late in posting, but hurry on over to Stumbling Over Chaos and enter to win an ebook copy of the newly re-released Galen and the Forest Lord.

Long, long ago in a faraway land, men were men (except when they were wolves), meddlesome aunts were meddlesome aunts, evil opportunists were evil opportunists, and heroes weren’t always the sharpest swords in the scabbard.

By the time Galen Olaf-kin woke up and smelled the spiced ale, it was too late, and he never finished the wicked deed for which he stood trial. Banished from his home, he flees to the forest, taking nothing but the unwanted infant he's rescued. Perhaps the legends are true and the forest lord will take them both in. The lord is said to give sanctuary to outcasts, but none of the stories mention the naughty, tempting things he whispers, or that he shares Galen's forbidden passions.

Lord Erik rolls his eyes at the prophecy that says when human hands deliver a babe to the forest, he’ll meet the mate destined to reunite forest folk with humankind. What interest has he in a child? The handsome human who brings the babe is another matter entirely, and little things like destiny and his own bumbling won’t keep Erik from claiming Galen as his own.

Monday, December 23, 2013

What's Coming Next

I took a break from the Diversion series to satisfy a plot bunny that's been harassing me for some time. I'd worked the story out so completely in my head that the words simply wanted out.

The result? A rocker story. Yes, I wrote a rocker and pitted him against an opera singer. Yeah, I do like a challenge to get opposits together. The story is currently with a beta and I hope to be able to offer a publish date soon.

Here's what I have on the blurb so far for A Matter of When:

Rocker Henri Lafontaine has it all: wealth, fame, gold records--a controlling manager, four band members with knives aimed at his back, and a psychotic fan out to steal Henri's heart--by force, if necessary.

 Some of you may know that I do some songwriting in addition to m/m fiction. All the songs featured in the book are my own creations.

Merry Christmas!

I wish you all safe and happy holidays for you and yours! And lots of love and hugs. 


Sunday, December 22, 2013

Is Santa a Keeper?

While digging around on my hard drive for a missing story, I chanced upon this post, written for a site several years ago that never got posted. I thought you might enjoy a diehard single gal's take on Santa Claus.

Free Clipart

 Is Santa a Keeper?

Now here's a question for you: is Santa a keeper? As a single woman of undisclosed years, what I want in a man today isn't what I wanted at twenty. Here's how I see it:

Say that the hottie you have your eye on comes home with you and decides to stay. What then? Sure he's nice to look at, but a practical woman looks at the big picture. While a jolly old elf may not be hot, buff or a gorgeous hunk, he has a lot going for him. Let's weigh the pros and cons, shall we?

Here's what Santa has to offer:

1)            He gives gifts. Gifts are nice. I like gifts. A lot.
2)      He's warm. Even here in the south where we perpetuate the myth of mild winters, it's cold. And the heater is on the fritz - again. Hmmm... in walks a man with some meat on his bones, wearing a plush red suit. That extra weight translates into warmth. I hope he's a cuddler, 'cause he's about to have no choice in the matter.
3)      That 'making a list thing.' I don't know about you, but I'm tired of men who are all talk and never get anything done. Santa makes lists. And he checks them twice. This sounds like the kind of guy you could trust to pay the power bill on time. And he's gonna find out who's naughty or nice! Boy, would I love to have some dirt on my co-workers! Muwhaahaahahaha.
4)      There's a good possibility that he's not a hunter. Though Santa has a few reindeer hanging around, it's a big plus that none are dead, tied to the hood of his sled, which puts him head and shoulders over a few previous relationships. If I hear, "Baby, come see what I killed!" one more time… All that red hanging in the closet is also a lot more cheery than camo.
5)      His entourage. Those elves might come in handy. Can they cook? Clean? Detail the car?
6)      He's jolly. After my last guy, Mr. How-many-moods-can-I-have-in-five-minutes, I can handle "jolly."
7)      Unlimited access to cookies. Hey, waking up to a tray of vegan cookies would be a good thing.
8)      He'll only go out without me once per year. Beats leaving me alone every Saturday so he can go hang with his buds. Who knows? If I ask nicely he may even take me with him.
9)      Travels to exotic locales if you can talk him into taking you along. Given that jolly thing, and the fact that the kids of the world already have him trained to fork over whatever they ask for, I'd say it's a given.
10)    He has a steady job. And a car. Sort of.
11)    Standing next to him makes me look slim. Big plus.
12)    He reads. Even if it is just letters.
13)    He makes toys, which means he's good with his hands. 'Nuff said.

Now for the cons:

1)      He's a bit out of shape. That belly that shakes like a bowlful of jelly? I got a treadmill in the back bedroom. We'll take care of that. Besides, his belly can't be any bigger than that of my last few dates.
2)      A sleigh parked out front for most of the year? Heck, my neighbors have Chevy's on cement blocks, so we'll fit right in.
3)      It might get crowded with all those elves around. I can fix that. I'll haul them all to my family reunion. The next time me and old Santy need alone time I'll just tell them Great Aunt Maude is coming to visit. They'll clear out.
4)      Hoochies trying to be cute will climb into his lap, asking for "favors" for Christmas, or wanting to know if he wears anything under his costume. Hmmm… I'd like to know that myself.
5)      He isn't classically handsome. Let's face it girls, we may love looking at Jaguars, and may even picture ourselves driving one before doing the math and finding something more suitable. Who needs high maintenance, gasp-worthy insurance rates, and depreciation? Chances are, if you're looking at Santa, that's as bad as it's ever going to get. Gorgeous hunk? Sorry y'all, it's all downhill from there.
6)      Women will eye-ball your man in public. Don’t worry, it's probably the red suit, not him, that they're looking at. Only, he knows which ones are naughty. And where they live. Not good. "Oh look, Santa! Cookies!" Problem solved.

Still, weighing in at a baker's dozen pros and only six cons ain't bad. Sold! No need to wrap him, I'll take him home now. The chimney needs cleaning.

Eden Winters

Secrets of My Characters

No one knows an author's characters better than the creator, and many times we write something into our stories, or think we do, that may go unnoticed. Personally, I like to toss in what I consider a wink and a nudge for readers, who may pick up on a commonality within my books. Case in point: I believe all hospitals in my stories (and I put my boys in the hospital a lot) are called Mercy General.

Here's some other little tidbits you may not have picked up on:

1) While Noah of The Angel of 13th Street series is visiting "Mercy General", he encounters a red-haired nurse. Normally a bit-part character doesn't get named. This one did: Angie.

Red-haired nurse Angie is Micheal's sister in The Telling. I'd been reading about The Traveling Nurse program and thought it'd be cool to have her in Angel.

2) Erica from Settling the Score is lesbian. Those who wrote me about her want me to write her story.

3) Loretta Johnson, the burly, tattooed agent (and scene-stealer) from Corruption is having an affair with DEA intern Phillip. I had to delete the scenes because they didn't forward the story, but I left some sub-text. Their relationship will come into play in future installments.

4) Alex and Paul of The Wish have a cameo appearance in pal P.D. Singer's Mistletoe on the Mountain. They are the couple Kurt and Jake see shopping.

5) The Legion of Noorvik is an alien mercenary group from a video game in A Lie I Can Live With. Noorvik is a city in Alaska.

6) In my upcoming contribution for the Butt Ninjas from Hell anthology, I needed names for my demons. You guessed it: they're all names of Alaskan cities.

p.s. I was born in Alaska. It holds a special place in my heart.

7) It's very common in my stories for characters to change their names. I'm not sure why I do that, it just sort of happens. 

If and when I ever get the sequel to The Telling finished, look for Bo and Lucky of the Diversion series to make a brief appearance.

Thursday, December 19, 2013

Wanna Win Some Fun Holiday Tales?

It's been a busy season, what with the shopping, winter weather, holiday parties and get togethers, making now the perfect time to sit back and de-stress with some holiday humor--complete with m/m romance.  In honor of the season and the rerelease of The Match Before Christmas series, I'm giving away e-book copies of the whole set: The Match Before Christmas, Fanning the Flames, and A Lie I Can Live With.

 Candlelight, mistletoe, gaily wrapped packages beneath a trimmed tree, and someone to share it with. That's all Barry Richards wants for Christmas. Desperate for a traditional holiday, he creates a profile on "," in hopes of finding the perfect man in a matter of weeks. One date after another goes sour, while all around him friends are falling in love, and Barry starts to lose faith.

The first snow falls and the world fills with seasonal cheer, all except for Barry, for whom time is running out. Facing the prospect of a lonely holiday, he tries just once more to make The Match Before Christmas. 

 The man of Barry's dreams has gone from a sugarplum fantasy to sweet reality, thanks to the GLBT dating site Introducing a new boyfriend to the family and settling into coupledom aren't the easiest things in the world for a man with little dating experience, but the romantic demands of Valentine's Day are beyond Barry's imagination. His piteous cry for help brings all kinds of suggestions from family and friends.Fully believing he's found the perfect ways to charm his sweetheart, Barry isn't prepared to hear "Achoo " at every turn. Adam's allergic to what? And will sneezes and welts wreck Barry's painstaking plans for Fanning the Flames?

 A dating site profile faked up to make geeky gamer Otis Tucker more alluring hasn’t done much for his social life, so what does he have to lose by putting his real picture and honest interests online? His pal Barry swears there’s someone out there who will love Otis for himself, extra pounds and all.

Handsome Garret Mims sends “I’d love to meet you!” but takes things so slow Otis is quite sure they’re stopped. Is it really a date if there’s not so much as a kiss between them? Maybe he shouldn’t worry about Garret’s intentions and just enjoy every platonic moment. Instead, Otis could work on finding the missing ingredient for his pumpkin pies before Thanksgiving.

Garret’s upfront in every way but one, and Otis may have found a lie he can live with.


The first giveaway is being hosted by Mrs. Condit and Friends Read Books:

The second giveaway is at Stumbling Over Chaos:

Good luck, and Happy Holidays!

Guest Post by Sarah Madison - Find What Works for You

Today Magnolias and Men is playing host to The Boys of Summer blog hop. Please welcome our guest, Sarah Madison

Find What Works for You

When I was in college, I got my very first dog that was all mine. I’d met her breeder years before, and she’d told me when I was ready for a puppy to come back to her. God, how I loved that dog. I slept on the floor with her for the first week after I brought her home so that she wouldn’t be afraid. I took her with me everywhere. She was my heart dog—that once in a lifetime dog that they make movies about. That makes you cry tears of joy and heartache every time you think about her, even though she has been gone for many years now. She was my best friend, my right hand, my better self.

She was by no means perfect. Oh the stories I could tell. I lived in a bad neighborhood, but my apartment was the only one that had never been robbed. I didn’t even know I lived in a bad neighborhood until my friends refused to come visit me—Jessie kept me safe. I can still see with perfect clarity her sneaking up on the drunken man passed on my front stoop, creeping up carefully until she’d wedged her nose into his ear and let loose a volley of barking. She then followed him as he crawled back to his apartment, scolding him like a fishwife the entire way.

Or there was that time when two young boys playing Rambo jumped out of the woods onto the trail in front of us brandishing knives. Jessie shoved her head into the crotch of one of the boys and lifted him bodily off the ground with her head, setting him down again with a hard thump.

“Drop the knives!” I barked at the kids like a police detective. Shaking, tears running down their faces, they let their very real weapons fall to the ground. “Are you insane?” I yelled at them. “You never, ever pull a stunt like that on a German Shepherd!”

Lest you think she was just some bad-ass, ill-mannered dog, I should point out everyone called her Miss Congeniality. She got along with babies, rats, ferrets, cats, you name it. She was the most gentle dog on the planet, unless she thought you were threatening me.

One day when she was about a year old, I had her out in the common area playing with some of the other dogs in the apartment complex. She suddenly got it in her head to take off running and before I could stop her, she had zipped around the corner of the building toward the road.  I ran after her calling her name in exasperation.

I will never forget that moment when I heard that terrible squeal of tires on pavement, the thud of something being hit, and the sharp yelp of pain. An indescribable sound of horror ripped its way out of my throat as I screamed her name again.

I flew around the corner of the building to see her trotting very quickly back in my direction, eyes widely dilated and frequently flicking back over her shoulder. She’d only been bumped by the car, thank God.
My near-miss sent me into a tailspin of regret and fear—how could I have been so stupid? Had I done everything wrong in raising this, my very own dog, my first puppy? I went down to the library and checked out every book I could find on raising and training dogs. I went to the local bookstore and bought copies of all the bestselling books on behavior and obedience. Armed with the knowledge of experts, I went home and began reading.

What I quickly discovered was that there were so many ways in which to train a dog, and many of the experts seemed to think their method was the only one that was right, and to follow anyone else was to ‘ruin’ your dog. Ruin seemed so final, so terrible. I’d heard warning stories about German Shepherds before I’d ever gotten Jessie. But the books confused me. One author would tout being firm to the point of abusiveness, another advised against ever reprimanding your dog. Some used food, some used harsh, corrective equipment and considered food something only sissies used. No one agreed on any one method and most of them contradicted each other in key areas of their basic philosophy. I might have been young and foolish at the time, but at least I had the sense to realize I had to find the training philosophy that I agreed with and ignore the rest.

Fast forward many years later. I’d re-discovered my lost love for writing and had merrily cranked out over a million words of fanfiction.  Gathering my nerve to submit a story, I sent in story after story for publication and they were all accepted. All of the sudden, I had five or six published stories to my name and I was an author. A real live honest-to-God author.  In a grand show of support, friends and family began sending me books on writing: on technique, on marketing, on style, on writing to genre. I dove into the material gleefully. But like the dog books before, I soon discovered contradictory advice.  Work from a detailed outline, screw the outline and make it up as you go along. Write linearly. Write scenes only. Do this, don’t do that. Don’t listen to that expert, listen to me. Instead of helping me, the books stymied me. The next thing I know, my production had slowed to a trickle.

So I’m going to tell you now what it took me far too long to see for myself. Find the ‘teacher’ that resonates with you and stick with that person and others with the same philosophy. It doesn’t matter if you’re training dogs, writing stories, or looking for the meaning in your life. YOU are the best guide to what works best for you. Trust your instincts. That doesn’t mean you don’t need any teachers at all; far from it. But it does mean that if you read or hear something that makes you raise an eyebrow and make a frowny face that you should trust that reaction

Your talent is born from within. You know how to raise it right.

 Title: The Boys of Summer

Author: Sarah Madison
Genre: M/M Romance
Excerpt: Rated R for language
Bookseller Links: Amazon US (paperback), Amazon US (Kindle), Amazon UK (paperback), Amazon UK (Kindle)

David McIntyre has been enjoying the heck out of his current assignment: touring the Hawaiian Islands in search of the ideal shooting locations for a series of film company projects. What’s not to like? Stunning scenery, great food, sunny beaches…and a secret crush on his hot, ex-Air Force pilot, Rick Sutton. Everything changes when a tropical storm and engine failure force a crash landing on a deserted atoll with a WWII listening post. Rick’s injuries, and a lack of food and water, make rescue imperative, but it takes an intensely vivid dream about the war to make David see that Rick is more than just a pilot to him. Will David gather his courage to confess his feelings to Rick—before it’s too late?

The Boys of Summer has recently been given an Honorable Mention and is one of the finalists in the 2013 Rainbow Awards! The winners will be announced sometime in December.

“Settings are used wonderfully here, becoming so vibrant that they played out like a movie in my mind as I read.” Jessewave

“I devoured it and it has moved into my top ten books of all time.” Josie Goodreads

“Ms. Madison writes with a wonderful, flowing style, her words effortless and magical, drawing you into her story.” Susan Mac Nicol

“I thoroughly enjoyed the Boys of Summer and based on this book I have already earmarked several more Sarah Madison books to read.” Kazza K

“If you’re headed to the beach and can only take one book with you, it should be this one. Highly and delightedly recommended!” Jessewave

Tour Giveaway

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Excerpt (rated R for language):
“I don’t think we’ve got much choice.” Sutton’s voice was grim. “We’re lucky to have that much. Hold on, these trees are coming up faster than I’d like.”

Still fighting to keep the nose of the plane up, Sutton guided the recalcitrant aircraft toward the so-called clearing, the ground rising up to meet them far faster than was comfortable. David found himself leaning back in his seat, bracing his hands on the console as the tops of trees scraped the underside of the plane. Branches swiped at the windshield, and David had the sudden impression of being in a car wash scene as written by Stephen King.

“Duck your head!” Sutton barked. “Wrap your arms around your legs!”
“And kiss my ass goodbye?” David shouted, raising his voice over the increasing noise as he obeyed Sutton’s orders.

Incredibly, Sutton laughed. It was an oddly comforting sound. Like everything was somehow going to be all right because Sutton was at the controls.

The moment of humor was gone in a flash. The plane screamed with the sound of tearing metal and the sharp, explosive crack of tree limbs and breaking glass. David kept his head down and his eyes closed, praying to a God he was pretty sure had more important things to do than to keep up with the well-being of one David McIntyre. Despite being strapped in his seat, his head and shoulder thumped painfully against the passenger side door as the plane thrashed wildly. There was a moment of eerie, blessed silence, and for an instant, the assault on the plane seemed as though it had lifted. Eye of the storm, David thought, just before the plane hit the ground.

Someone had left the window open and it was raining on him. How incredibly annoying. He shifted, intent on reaching for the offending window, when a jolt of pain ran through his shoulder and he gasped. When he opened his eyes, nothing made any sense at first. Then he remembered the crash, and realized that his side of the plane was pointing up at the sky. The rain was coming down in a steady stream through the broken windshield. The sound of the rain on the metal hull of the plane was nearly deafening.

He winced at the pain in his neck when he turned to look over at the pilot’s seat. Sutton was slumped to one side in his chair, unmoving. His sunglasses were hanging off one ear.

“Oh God, oh God, oh God,” David murmured, hastily undoing his seatbelt so he could reach across to Sutton. His skin was cold and damp where David touched it, and adrenaline pounded through David’s veins as though he could jumpstart Sutton’s heart by sending his own pulse beating through his fingertips. “Sutton! Rick!”

About Sarah Madison

Like most writers, Sarah Madison was a story-teller as a child. She couldn’t help herself! She carried a grubby spiral notebook with her everywhere she went, filling it with stories about dogs and horses. When she reached the end of high school, however, she packed up all her creativity in a box and placed it on a shelf, to be stored with other childhood memories. She worked hard at her job and thought that being passionless was just what growing up was all about.
One day she woke up. She opened the box on her shelf and discovered much to her surprise, her passion was there, just waiting to be claimed again.
Now, writing sometimes takes precedence over everything else. In fact, when she is in the middle of a chapter, she usually relies on the smoke detector to tell her when dinner is ready.
To learn more, visit Sarah on her website, on Twitter, Facebook and Goodreads.

The Boys of Summer Tour Dates

Monday 9th DecemberVirtual Writers, Inc. (interview)
Tuesday 10th December  – Charlie Cochet (interview)
Wednesday 11th DecemberKathryn Lively from ARe Cafe (guest post) Annette Gisby from Zipper Rippers (author interview) – awaiting final confirmation
Thursday 12th December Sinfully Sexy Book Reviews (review and interview)
Friday 13th December Tammy Middleton from Tams Book Blog (also posted on MM Good Book Reviews) (review & guest post)
Saturday 14th December  – Kirsty Vizard (review)
Sunday 15th December –  Sid Love (guest post) & Twitter Interview with Sarah Madison (1pm EST)
Monday 16th December  Kathy from Book Reviews and More (guest post)
Tuesday 17th December  Joyfully Jay (guest post)
Wednesday 18th December  – Sophie Sansregret from Evolved Books (review and guest post)
Thursday 19th December  – Eden Winters from Magnolias and Men (interview and promo) – awaiting final confirmation
Friday 20th December  –  Iris Pross from Cocktails and Books (review)
Saturday 21st December  –  GraveTells (guest post)
Sunday 22nd December  - Sarah Madison



Saturday, December 14, 2013

A Heartfelt Thank You!

Sometimes an author can get lost in the day to day struggle to advertise, get their name out there and get their books noticed, all while pounding away on the keyboard to create the next one. We have our highs and lows, get discouraged, and in the end, keep right on going.

Occasionally something happens that really uplifts our spirits and cheers us on in our endeavors--be it a great review, an e-mail from someone who was moved by the words we wrote, or other forms of recognition.

First, Naked Tails had a fifth place finish in the M/M Paranormal Romance category at the Rainbow Awards, and now several of my stories have been acknowledged with nominations in the Goodreads M/M Romance Group's Readers' Choice Awards.

Bo and Lucky from:




A heartfelt "Thank you!" to all who've supported me and my work over the years. 

And don't forget to vote and show support for your favorite authors and books! I'm told that you do not have to be a member of the M/M Romance Group to vote.


Monday, December 9, 2013

Newly Re-released and Cheesier Than Ever! Galen and the Forest Lord

Let's face it: sometimes an author just wants to have fun. I hope you'll have enjoy reading Galen and the Forest Lord as much as I loved writing it.

Long, long ago in a faraway land, men were men (except when they were wolves), meddlesome aunts were meddlesome aunts, evil opportunists were evil opportunists, and heroes weren’t always the sharpest swords in the scabbard.

By the time Galen Olaf-kin woke up and smelled the spiced ale, it was too late, and he never finished the wicked deed for which he stood trial. Banished from his home, he flees to the forest, taking nothing but the unwanted infant he's rescued. Perhaps the legends are true and the forest lord will take them both in. The lord is said to give sanctuary to outcasts, but none of the stories mention the naughty, tempting things he whispers, or that he shares Galen's forbidden passions.

Lord Erik rolls his eyes at the prophecy that says when human hands deliver a babe to the forest, he’ll meet the mate destined to reunite forest folk with humankind. What interest has he in a child? The handsome human who brings the babe is another matter entirely, and little things like destiny and his own bumbling won’t keep Erik from claiming Galen as his own.


A tree trunk’s rough bark bit into Galen’s back, the massive oak cutting off any hoped-for escape. He swallowed hard, wide eyes transfixed by the glowing orbs of a least a dozen wolves fanned out around him. Having been taught to count to twelve by his uncle, who’d often sent Galen to market to sell eggs, he knew there were at least a dozen. Any number beyond twelve was deemed irrelevant by the farm folk, and probably better off for the not knowing where wolves were concerned.

Wasn’t this the point in his dreams where the forest lord swept in, saving Galen before taking him away from farm life forever?

Two shaggy predators crept closer while the others held back. One of the two, a particularly large example of wolfhood, growled. Galen imagined it egging the other on, “It’s just one puny human! Kill it!”

In fact, the pack’s primary female said, “He doesn’t look like a criminal to me. Go check!”

“Me go check?” the second wolf, a much smaller male, whined. “You’re the Alpha Bi–”

The larger wolf cut him off with a particularly vicious snarl. “Don’t you dare call me that!”

“B…b…but it’s the customary title! Passed down through generations.”

The she-wolf’s long, pointed nose nearly touched the other wolf’s, and she grrr’d deep and low. “It may be the customary title, but I swear, if you call me Bitch one more time…”


Galen watched the exchange between the two wolves, imagining they were fighting over which got the first bite.

So terrified he could scarcely get the words out, he stammered, “I… I… ha…have a b…ba…babe with me. The forest lord grants safe passage to any with a b… ba… babe.” When his captors didn’t immediately scamper off into the woods, uttering the wolf equivalent of “Why didn’t you say so?” he added weakly, “Or so I’m told.”

The larger, female wolf gave a nasty sounding rumble from deep in her throat. Galen heard, “Dibbs on the kid!”

The smaller male wolf rolled his eyes and lolled his tongue. It looked to Galen like a flea was troubling a place he wasn’t permitted to scratch in public.

An enormous black wolf pushed past the encircling furry bodies to join the front two, with a growl even more threatening than the others’. In all honesty, compared to the new arrival and the female, the smaller male didn’t look dangerous at all. For a moment, temptation goaded Galen to jump and shout to see if it would run.

The new wolf approached cautiously, a monstrous creature that reminded Galen of the paw prints he’d found earlier on the path. The beast eyed Galen with keen interest. The female growled again, defending her claim, in Galen’s eyes.


Actually, the she-wolf told the newcomer, “Erik, I don’t care if you are kin, touch the child and die!”

In rather meek and mild-mannered tones, for a wolf, Erik replied, “Yes, Aunt Eydis.”

“That’s a human, you know,” the female pointed out.

“Of course it’s a human! I can smell it from here. It’s not like I haven’t seen them before.” He lifted his nose into the air for a good sniff. “It smells rather ripe, in my opinion.”

His father’s litter-mate glared with narrowed, yellow eyes. “That’s the babe he carries. Needs a good changing if you ask me.”

When Erik didn’t reply, she repeated, “A hu-man,” as though speaking to a cub. A rather young, rather dim-witted cub. “A human carrying a baby, invoking the name of the forest lord.”

“Oh!” Erik replied, the candle wick igniting. “But shouldn’t the human babe we expected be this lad’s age by now?” He pointed with his snout to Galen. “Took his time in getting here, didn’t he?”

Galen’s eyes were fixed on Erik’s mouth.

The she-wolf gnawed a cockleburr from her paw. “You know how prophecies are.”

“He could still be a criminal,” the smaller male suggested. A hint of pink tongue swiped at his muzzle.

“Don’t you think about anything but eating?”

“Well, my mate is pregnant,” the small wolf replied, with self-satisfied smugness.

Erik shifted his gaze back and forth between Twin One and his aunt. Neither budged. “Fine! I’ll go!”

 Galen and the Forest Lord, now available from Rocky Ridge Books.

Sunday, December 8, 2013

Sarah Madison's Boy's of Summer Tour

I'm very happy to be hosting Sarah Madison for part of her Boys of Summer Tour. Click the banner above to find out about this event, and join me on December 19, as Magnolias and Men play host to Sarah.