Tag: girls

“Shatter the Earth” Cassandra Palmer 10 Karen Chance

Yeah. I scratched something that had imbedded itself near my hairline, and a couple bits of rubble fell out and hit the white tiled floor, making little clattering sounds. The attendant didn’t say anything, so I didn’t, either. I guessed we were both going to agree that hadn’t happened.


It was funny how you couldn’t tell now, I thought, staring. Like you couldn’t tell if a lot of the bodies around Vlad’s city of the dead were male or female, after a while. They just turned into corpses, blackened and split open, with ropes of trailing entrails festooned with maggots and dripping with unknown liquids. Mothers, fathers, lovers, friends; they were all the same in death, rotting under a cheerful blue sky . ..


Somebody had told me that war was a lot of serious tedium interspersed with moments of sheer terror, however. Which I thought described my job perfectly.


…liberated my new cat. Who looked in disbelief at my bed, which was round and so oversized that they needed a new designation for it. Orgy-sized maybe, because it could have fit ten, maybe twelve in a pinch.


You got it, I gritted out, after half a freaking hour. I had been awake for going on a day, under less than ideal conditions. My body ached, my brain was fried, and my eyes actually burned. I was going to sleep right now, damn it! Only I didn’t. I tossed and turned and tried every conceivable position. I plumped my pillow, changed it out for a different one, and then pounded that one into submission, too, before giving up and going back to the first one again. I put on a sleep mask. I took off a sleep mask, because I had black out curtains that my vamp bodyguards almost always kept closed even when they weren’t in here. I didn’t need a sleep mask, goddamnit! The problem was, I didn’t know what I needed.


Somebody had told me that warm milk helped insomnia. It sounded nasty, but I was willing to give it a try. Right now, I was willing to try anything. Of course, that required that I play the fun and exciting game of Hunt the Milk, which was no mean feat. The penthouse’s kitchen had been designed to feed a horde, with three fridges—two regular ones and a shorty under the counter—a standalone freezer, two wine coolers, another wine cooler that was used only for beer, and God knew what else. I didn’t, because I couldn’t find half of it! And what I could find, I often didn’t want


Tami, my friend and self-appointed life manager, and I had sat around one night shortly after we moved in playing “guess the item” with a couple drawers full of weird, one-use-only gadgets. We’d managed to correctly identify an avocado slicer, a carrot peeler, a pair of herb scissors, a strawberry stem remover (okay, we cheated with Google on that one) and a vertical egg cooker. Plus some stuff that even the search engine of the gods hadn’t been able to help us out with.  Tami’s go-to greeting for visitors to the kitchen these days was to drag them over to the mystery item drawer and try to make them identify something.


I didn’t have an answer for her. It was one of a whole host of things I didn’t know, because this job didn’t get easier as you went along, like I’d expected. It actually seemed to be getting harder, which was a problem since I was already giving a hundred and fifty percent. Literally. I turned around and went back to bed.


Only you can’t. That’s what I’m trying to tell you.” She leaned forward and put a hand on my arm. “Everybody wants a piece of you, all the time, but you can’t give it to them. They’ll take and take, until there’s nothing left. That’s how people are—”


I seriously contemplating just sleeping where I lay. The bed had one of those down-filled mattresses that grabs your ass like it’s trying to get handsy, and then draws you down into enveloping softness. 


I groaned and put a hand to my head, where it felt like I had the mother of all hangovers. And the grandmother and great-grandmother as well, I thought, trying to take stock.

Now, if you please.” Damn it, Gertie! I thought. But I stomped over anyway. “What?” “Pear?” She offered me one. I looked at it blankly. It was fat and yellow, with a blushing bottom. It was a nice pear. It also made no sense at all. “What?” “Yes, I have an apple,” Gertie said, and jerked me inside. “What are you doing?” I demanded, because this was bizarre, even for her. But she just shushed me and turned me toward the crack in the door. It was still open maybe a quarter of the way, giving us a sliver of a view, although why we needed one, I didn’t know. I needed to get back—“Watch,” Gertie said, and ate pear. I didn’t know what she was talking about, but I watched anyway. Don’t argue with teacher, I thought. Only I didn’t know what I was supposed to be watching. The little girls were the easiest to see, still facing their wall. Or most of them were. One was playing with a doll she’d smuggled out, hidden in a fold of her dress, and another had squatted down to examine a fat green caterpillar. But most of the rest were dutifully reciting something, I didn’t know what, because it was in some other language. “A test,” Gertie said, her voice low. “For what?” “To see if they can age a flower.” I looked back at her. “How? They don’t have access to the Pythian power yet.” “No, they don’t,” she agreed. “The question is, can any of them get its attention?”


Or a fight, I thought, catching sight of the rest of the courtyard. “I told you I needed to get out there!” I said to Gertie, as my acolyte faced off with her own mother. I started forward, but Gertie pulled me back, and she was surprisingly strong for an old woman


Why London had what was essentially a petri dish of plague running through the city was beyond me, but it wasn’t my main concern


He’d come back for me, all right, but to capture not to kill. He’d started grafting souls onto his body, like adding apps onto a phone, and I was supposed to be his next upgrade. There to add to his power, but with none of my own, and no say in what mine was used for. Or any way to stop the process or even to die and make the torture end.


Throughout history, the number three has been fundamental to how we understand the world. The space we inhabit is measured in length, width, and height. Time is measured in past, present, and future.” He paused, and I just sat there, expectant. Until I realized that he was smiling slightly. “What?” I asked. “What are you waiting for?” “For the rest—” I stopped, realizing that I had unconsciously been waiting—for another example. I frowned. “The third instance would be body, mind, and spirit,” he continued, “which is how we understand ourselves. But the fact that you knew—instinctively—that there was a third example indicates how our minds classify things…People have always seen the world in threes. Look at religion: Christianity is fundamentally based on the Trinity—the father, son and holy spirit. The magi gave Christ three gifts, the devil tempted him three times, and he rose from the dead after three days. Even the Christian universe is traditionally seen as having three expressions: the upper world of heaven, the middle world of Earth, and the underworld of hell…The Greeks were also particularly fond of the number: there were three Fates, three Graces, three Gorgons and three Furies. There were three brothers who ruled over three realms: Zeus, Hades and Poseidon. Artemis…is often seen as a triple goddess, a unity of the divine huntress, the Moon goddess and the goddess of the underworld… the rest of the world’s religions follow a similar pattern: the Sumerian Goddess Inanna is remembered for having spent three days and nights in the underworld. There are three main gods in Hinduism: Brahma the Creator, Vishnu the Preserver, and Shiva the Destroyer. Yggdrasil, the sacred tree of life in the Norse religion, has three roots under which are three sacred wells——not to mention how often the number shows up in the world’s imagery. The triskelion, a three-legged spiral, can be found on items dating back more than six thousand years. The Borromean rings are a centuries-old symbol of unity made up of three interlacing circles. The Valknut rune of Odin——consisting of three interlocking triangles, stood for his power. Even the old superstition of not walking underneath a ladder stems from an ancient Egyptian belief that one should not “break a triangle’. The geometry of the number three was seen as being complete and perfect, and therefore not to be disturbed—”


“When shall we three meet again?” he quoted. “In thunder, lightning, or in rain? When the hurly-burly’s done, when the battle’s lost and won.”

An opinion… And a caveat

Ok, so I feel the need to speak up. I don’t know whether or not what I am seeing on facebook is a collaboration between google Microsoft apple and facebook. I don’t know if I am only seeing the posts of people in my sphere ir not, and none of us ever thought about what would happen in the last 20-30 years. When Disney started a TV channel of was controversial too. I don’t know that we need to be fermenting dissent. And none of us ever thought that the Internet was anything but a geekdom. So, this is what happens. Instead of lamenting our unintended consequences why don’t we look ar how far we have come since the 1940s. I choose to believe in people, in g-d and the fact that no matter what we will be ok. Maybe I am wrong. My world has personally been shattered twice by the pivotal losses of the two men of my life. Dad 32 days before the big wedding we’d been arguing over every tiny detail of for 18 months. And Jerome 10 years ago. I guess I didn’t learn enough from the first loss. But I firmly believe in the soul and G-d and that we will all see each other again. But I believe Jerome and my dad are with my girls because that’s where their heart is. And yes I may be more Anita blake then Belle but oh, the beasts library. Why are their laptops we can carry in our pockets? Because we were tired of carrying our full towers to gaming tournamwbts. None of us thought about how we would get to our future bit just put it… Someday after most everyone dies. But I want to be the heroine of my story. Full stop. And somehow I ended up in a place where I am a stereotype… Why? Because I am a book nerd. I read the originals and all the new copies so I know how bad things can get. But they also have come so far… So, if my friends who are freaking out will breathe for a minute the oxygen will calm you down. That’s the way your brain works and as we go farther and farther with cars that can drive themselves and complete access almost instantly to authors, actors, everything. Read the in death series by Nora Roberts as JD ROBB. We will get there , maybe. Or jt ellison and know true fear. Fear of secrets, fear of natural disasters which can shatter you by taking those you love. Or just of being completely consumed. Why? Because throughout history we have had to revisit our fears. And this is life. Complicated… Messy and oh so amazing. So when your car tells you you aren’t paying attention that’s because reading in cars gives you headaches, so there are audiobooks. That explains it. And we bitch if its not exactly like the voice in our head. And seat belts and airbags… Shoot look at car seats. Why? Because we are worried about our kids- either because of evolution or something else. But does it really matter? Look around and ask yourself if its better now then it was. If not, do your best to fix it. Stand up to those who are evil because all it takes for the villain to win is good people to do nothing. But I read them all. Which led to a whole new category of writing. With people like me as authors. So keep speaking up and celebrate the happy that much harder for all the sorrow along the way… And those are the books that take me away. I love that Seanan McGuire writes books with Shakespeare quotes as titles. And, that is just too cool! And then there are the others and somehow my worlds of tech and science crossed with my geekiness my need to understand and brought me here to this weird intersection of space and time where I just have to say. We are better off, but I agree with all my authors that we have to speak up. It won’t be anyone’s cup of tea, but ok. I want nothing to do with 50 shades of grey… But my fantasy books… Now, you can pry those out of my cold dead hands. But every bad cloud has a sun behind it. It will pass. And you hold onto the good that much harder. Why? because it is tempered by steel. We had to so we did. And now we are doctors and lawyers and lawyers and its progress. Yes we have a way to go, but all of it it progress…

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An interesting read that shows the power of words and regardless of where you are in life the transformation the right book can create

View at Medium.com

As I read this article I tried to figure out which of my books 📚 would get the golden ticket if o had to pick just one. I can’t do it. When I was little I had an early hard cover edition of Little Women which unfortunately got destroyed when I did something nice for someone and it came back to bite me on the ass. And there is Madeline L’engles A Wrinkle in Time, which was one of my husband’s favorites as well and which I read to my girls as I tried to process his death and somehow reading that book to our children helped me. I don’t know how much they remember of the story, but I know they remember the cuddles and the fact I was reading. Then there is the Great Alta trilogy by Jane Yolen, which inspired me so much, and introduced me to the power and joy that can only come from a trilogy.

I don’t know whether you will consider this necessarily a “book”, but the graphic novels of Elfquest–they had just been rereleased for their 20th anniversary and I was on a trip with my best friends family to Hilton Head, and after being so engrossed in Nora Roberts’ Public Secrets (which is another of my influences as life changing) that I spent the whole day at the beach on my stomach which led to a seriously bad burn which led to my father, who was not a fan of me going on the trip in the first place said that was it I was coming home and he sent me a plane ticket. The trip to the airport was a long one and my back was about 6 shades darker then a lobster(and I was in a lot of pain and the trip back home from the car ride to the airplane seat 💺 I was about ready to throw in the towel and was an exercise in mind over matter and how ( there is nothing to be done but let time pass and eventually you heal) and the only thing left in the car was my friend’s little brother’s graphic novel. They wouldn’t let me take it home (I was on page 87 and myom met me at the gate of the airport and she wasn’t able to find what I was talking about so I made her stop at the waldenbooks on the way home so I could read the end of story which of course, ironically, is finishing with the final quest this year and which I try to reread every 5 to 7 years.

And then I think of the eye opening Kushiel’s trilogy by Jacqueline Carey that opened a whole new world of series and books and a new world and genre of books and a great group of people…

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Celebrate women on International Women’s Day

Today is supposed to celebrate women around the world… And it’s a tough time to be a woman but hopefully we can make it a better world for our daughters… I have a dream of a world where women don’t have to work twice as hard for equal pay, where paternity leave is as common as maternity leave, and where women are celebrated for the fact that they give life and aren’t told that math and science are too hard to worry their pretty little heads about. A world where people look back in amazement that in 2018 1 in 6 women have survived an attempted or completed rape in their lifetimes… And to honor all that I hope you watch one of my idols and a person who inspires me…

If you don’t have the time to hear it live maybe the transcript will speak to you

I am a nasty woman.

I’m not as nasty as a man who looks like he bathes in Cheeto dust. A man whose words are a distract to America; Electoral College-sanctioned hate speech contaminating this national anthem.

I am not as nasty as Confederate flags being tattooed across my city. Maybe the South actually is gonna rise again; maybe for some it never really fell. Blacks are still in shackles and graves just for being Black. Slavery has been re-interpreted as the prison system in front of people who see melanin as animal skin.

I am not as nasty as a swastika painted on a pride flag. And I didn’t know devils could be resurrected, but I feel Hitler in these streets—a mustache traded for a toupee; Nazis re-named the cabinet; electro-conversion therapy the new gas chambers, shaming the gay out of America turning rainbows into suicide notes.

I am not as nasty as racism, fraud, conflict of interest, homophobia, sexual assault, transphobia, white supremacy, misogyny, ignorance, white privilege.

I’m not as nasty as using little girls like Pokémon before their bodies have even developed.

I am not as nasty as your own daughter being your favorite sex symbol—like your wet dreams infused with your own genes.

But yah, I am a nasty woman?!

A loud vulgar, proud woman.

I’m not nasty like the combo of Trump and Pence being served up to me in my voting booth.

I’m nasty like the battles my grandmothers fought to get me into that voting booth.

I’m nasty like the fight for wage equality. Scarlett Johansson: Why were the famous actors paid less than half of what the male actors earned last year?

See, even when we do go into higher paying jobs our wages are still cut with blades, sharpened by testosterone. Why is the work of a Black woman and a Hispanic woman worth only 63 and 54 cents of a white man’s privileged daughter?

This is not a feminist myth. This is inequality.

So we are not here to be debunked. We are here to be respected. We are here to be nasty.

I am nasty like the blood stains on my bed sheets. We don’t actually choose if and when to have our periods. Believe me, if we could, some of us would. We don’t like throwing away our favorite pairs of underpants. Tell me, why are tampons and pads still taxed when Viagra and Rogaine are not? Is your erection really more than protecting the sacred messy part of my womanhood? Is the blood stain on my jeans more embarrassing than the thinning of your hair?

I know it is hard to look at your own entitlement and privilege. You may be afraid of the truth. I am unafraid to be honest. It may sound petty bringing up a few extra cents. It adds up to the pile of change I have yet to see in my country.

I can’t see. My eyes are too busy praying to my feet hoping you don’t mistake eye contact for wanting physical contact. Half my life I have been zipping up my smile hoping you don’t think I wanna unzip your jeans.

I am unafraid to be nasty because I am nasty like Susan, Elizabeth, Eleanor, Amelia, Rosa, Gloria, Condoleezza, Sonia, Malala, Michelle, Hillary.

And our pussies ain’t for grabbin’. Therefore, reminding you that are balls are stronger than America’s ever will be. Our pussies are for our pleasure. They are for birthing new generations of filthy, vulgar, nasty, proud, Christian, Muslim, Buddhist, Sheikh—you name it—for new generations of nasty women. So if you [are] a nasty woman or love one who is, let me hear you say, “HELL YEAH!”

I am a survivor in many ways. I’m a survivor of rape and the fact that just typing those words made me pause and wonder how my friends will take that admission and feel even the slightest bit of shame, tells me how far we have yet to go…

Please help me make a world where women are celebrated… And one(ok it’s really two) last thing to inspire you… Have you heard Patrick Stewart speak on violence against women? I was a trekkie (always gonna love me some star trek the next generation) but I fell in love with the person behind my favorite captain when I heard his response at comicon take the time to watch these speeches… It is time well spent

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On a Night filled with Fear and Anxiety About So Much This Hit Me A Little Bit More Than Usual

I live in Florida and as I said in previous posts, every time a hurricane passes us by is a miracle and as I watched Harvey decimate Texas and Louisiana I was in equal parts inspired and appalled by the men and  women who joined together to help, taking any bit they had, be it boats or water, time or money, clothing or food… And appalled by those who made excuses for why they could not help, citing the water unsafe as there was no way to know what might be in them or difficulty in securing transportation or any other thing they could pull out of thin air…

Now we face another hurricane and it is poised to hit Florida and I find myself praying that this one passes us by, although that looks less and less likely as time passes.  I am watching my neighbors go insane, making runs on drugstores and supermarkets and discount clubs and I don’t know what to say or do about the insanity I am seeing but it is insanity on a grandiose scale or done large… 

And I am binge watching some TV shows as I look around my home wondering how I can take all the irreplaceable things in my home in hours if necessary, finding myself overwhelmed by the prospect of even trying to pack that bag. The wedding albums, my ketubah (the Jewish contract of marriage, of which there is literally one in all of the world as those who have signed in, most noticibly my husband and one of the witnesses, have died in the intervening years), the hours of videotapes from when the girls were born and of course the dog and all of his stuff… Do I take my high-school and college diplomas or the… The list goes on and on into perpetuity. Luckily, as much as it might kill me to lose the physical copies of my books, they exist somewhere on the cloud, so though I will lose their physical copies, I can enjoy them again with the digital versions. And so when a cover of this song played on the TV show that is the background upon which I ponder these questions it hit me harder than it usually would… Forever Young

May God bless and keep you always
May your wishes all come true
May you always do for others
And let others do for you
May you build a ladder to the stars
And climb on every rung
May you stay forever young

May you grow up to be righteous
May you grow up to be true
May you always know the truth
And see the lights surrounding you
May you always be courageous
Stand upright and be strong
May you stay forever young
Forever young, forever young
May you stay forever young.

May your hands always be busy
May your feet always be swift
May you have a strong foundation
When the winds of changes shift
May your heart always be joyful
And may your song always be sung
May you stay forever young
Forever young, forever young
May you stay forever young.

May God bless and keep you always
May your wishes all come true
May you always do for others
And let others do for you
May you build a ladder to the stars
And climb on every rung
May you stay forever young
May you stay forever young

And now I have to see if I can put my money where my mouth is. Can I believe that as long as my family and I are alive and together the rest of it, no matter how treasured, is irrelevant… I will pray that this storm passes us by and I don’t have to make those choices, but come what may all I can do is my best and hope that somehow it will be enough this time… Although all too often these days it is not…

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Random Thoughts some will be of Great Importance, others not so much… 

Fist, an apology of sorts.  I went radio silent for the last little bit of time.  There are many reasons for this, but I am only going to bore you with a few of them:

1. I went on a trip with my deceased husband’s family.  We do this every year since Jerome died.   We all go somewhere for a week-his parents and grandparents, Me and my girls, his brother and his wife and kids and his sister and her husband.  For the past two  years we have been  going to a remote home in the smoky mountains, which is in a gully, beside a river.  But there is no cell service and internet is only available from midnight to 5 am.  So I wasn’t able to publish anything… I did a lot of reading and will be catching up on reviews here really soon. 

2.  I have had some family drama and my head space has been an ugly place to be in and I didn’t want to taint anyone else

3.  I asked for help with seo and this was a huge mistake on my part.  I have been flooded with calls and emails yelling me how awful my sight was and how they needed to fix it.  For an exorbitant price.  And after explaining what I envisioned for the website over and over to people who just couldn’t get it through their heads that I am  not an expert commerce site.  I would be thrilled if anyone clicked to give me a coffee or a PayPal donation, both of those links are in here somewhere. 

4.  I have been drifting a bit and lost focus on  what I was doing with this site.  And I have been watching with a morbid fascination as a publishing house baffles and confuses a loyal group of fans for a major author.  It’s like someone read the cliff notes version of the series, randomly selected a Character to be the second main character in a long running and popular book series.  And it’s not even in all the books, this second main chatacter.  I think you guys all know who and what I am talking about, if not here is a big clue, she recently scrapped her release for 2017 and told her fans it will be sometime in 2018 before book is out. 

I think from what I’ve read in blog posts that there is a mismatch between the editor (who has  recently come onto the scene) and the author.  At least that’s what it seems like to me.  And I have seen this particular publishing house do something similar to one of my favorite authors to talk about, Karen Chance. 

But now for the good News! Karen Chance released a new Dorina Book, Lover’s Knot.  She had been issuing it a chapter at a time but now the full book is out and available as a freebie on amazon and smashwords… So what are you waiting for.. Go get it..! 

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Nothing but trouble as Cory settles into her role in the hill! Book Review of Bound Volume 1 by Amy Lane

Format: Kindle Edition

The great thing about Amy Lane’s Green Hill Series (Little Goddess Series) is that the world is always the same. We jump into the world we left at the end of Wounded. Cory has returned to the hill with her husband’s victorious over Goshawk and the fae of San Francisco, In order to achieve that victory, however, Green had to unify a large number of supernatural creatures over a much larger territory. Part of this was easy, as species-ism had run rampant throughout the supernatural world, and when Green offered them acceptance and a place to belong, many of them jumped at it. But this type of unification requires a bit of maintenance, and since Green’s magic leans towards sex…well Green has to cement these connections as quickly as possible. This leads to Green having to be away from the hill and Cory being in charge. Things are complicated. Bracken’s life depends on him being faithful to Cory and Nicky’s life depends on him having sex at least once a month with either Cory or Green. Cory is still struggling to understand how SHE ended up as everyone’s beloved. And she doesn’t know how to love Nicky when bonding him to her and Green was an accident. The Avians need to be housed outside the hill, or they too may end up in unintended matings.

On top of that something weird is happening to some of the supernatural creatures. They are acting like they are intoxicated, and then their blood is toxic. Add to this that Bracken has never shared well, Nicky is struggling with the fact he likes boys more than girls and Cory is trying to adjust and get her degree! Something bad is after Cory and no one know how its going to play out…

Also, Grace’s daughter Chloe has discovered that her mother is still alive, sort of. And she and her two sons are trying to find a way to fit in at the hill, but Chloe’s bitterness towards Grace is truly toxic. And she has focused her hatred on Cory, who she feels has stolen her mother…






Wounded, Volume 1 Book Cover




Wounded, Volume 1




Little Goddess





Amy Lane





Paranormal Romance




DSP Publications; 2 edition




e book



Little Goddess: Book Three
Vol. 1

Humans have the option of separation, divorce, and heartbreak. For Corinne Carol-Anne Kirkpatrick, sorceress and queen of the vampires, the choices are limited to love or death. Now that she is back at Green’s Hill and assuming her duties as leader, her life is, at best, complicated. Bracken and Nicky are competing for her affections, Green is away taking care of his people, and a new supernatural enemy is threatening the sanctity of all she has come to love. Throw in a family reunion gone bad, a supernatural psychiatrist, and a killer physics class, and Cory’s life isn’t just complex, it’s psychotic.

Cory needs to get her act and her identity together, and soon, because the enemy she and her lovers are facing is a nightmare that doesn’t just kill people, it unmakes them. If she doesn’t figure out who she is and what her place is on Green’s Hill, it’s not just her life on the line. She knows from hard experience that the only thing worse than facing death is facing the death of someone she loves.

Loving people is easy—living with them is what takes the real work, and it’s even harder if you’re bound.

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Nothing but trouble as Cory settles into her role in the hill! Book Review of Bound Volume 1 by Amy Lane

Format: Kindle Edition

The great thing about Amy Lane’s Green Hill Series (Little Goddess Series) is that the world is always the same. We jump into the world we left at the end of Wounded. Cory has returned to the hill with her husband’s victorious over Goshawk and the fae of San Francisco, In order to achieve that victory, however, Green had to unify a large number of supernatural creatures over a much larger territory. Part of this was easy, as species-ism had run rampant throughout the supernatural world, and when Green offered them acceptance and a place to belong, many of them jumped at it. But this type of unification requires a bit of maintenance, and since Green’s magic leans towards sex…well Green has to cement these connections as quickly as possible. This leads to Green having to be away from the hill and Cory being in charge. Things are complicated. Bracken’s life depends on him being faithful to Cory and Nicky’s life depends on him having sex at least once a month with either Cory or Green. Cory is still struggling to understand how SHE ended up as everyone’s beloved. And she doesn’t know how to love Nicky when bonding him to her and Green was an accident. The Avians need to be housed outside the hill, or they too may end up in unintended matings.

On top of that something weird is happening to some of the supernatural creatures. They are acting like they are intoxicated, and then their blood is toxic. Add to this that Bracken has never shared well, Nicky is struggling with the fact he likes boys more than girls and Cory is trying to adjust and get her degree! Something bad is after Cory and no one know how its going to play out…

Also, Grace’s daughter Chloe has discovered that her mother is still alive, sort of. And she and her two sons are trying to find a way to fit in at the hill, but Chloe’s bitterness towards Grace is truly toxic. And she has focused her hatred on Cory, who she feels has stolen her mother…






Bound, Volume 1 Book Cover




Bound, Volume 1




Little Goddess





Amy Lane





Paranormal Romance




DSP Publications; 2 edition




e book



Little Goddess: Book Three
Vol. 1

Humans have the option of separation, divorce, and heartbreak. For Corinne Carol-Anne Kirkpatrick, sorceress and queen of the vampires, the choices are limited to love or death. Now that she is back at Green’s Hill and assuming her duties as leader, her life is, at best, complicated. Bracken and Nicky are competing for her affections, Green is away taking care of his people, and a new supernatural enemy is threatening the sanctity of all she has come to love. Throw in a family reunion gone bad, a supernatural psychiatrist, and a killer physics class, and Cory’s life isn’t just complex, it’s psychotic.

Cory needs to get her act and her identity together, and soon, because the enemy she and her lovers are facing is a nightmare that doesn’t just kill people, it unmakes them. If she doesn’t figure out who she is and what her place is on Green’s Hill, it’s not just her life on the line. She knows from hard experience that the only thing worse than facing death is facing the death of someone she loves.

Loving people is easy—living with them is what takes the real work, and it’s even harder if you’re bound.

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Happy Birthday to Me

Don’t know that anyone else will say it so I will…I am going to have a great birthday today.  I have so very much to be grateful for-I am alive, I have experienced great love, I have two girls, who despite being teenagers love AND like me, I have people spread far and wide who love me.  And so I go into my birthday grateful and positive about whats to come.

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Netflix led me to compare … Gilmore Girls versus Good Witch

So, of late I have been watching a lot of netflix.  I usually don’t because I’m reading or rereading something.  And as a book addict, well I sort of agree with all book nerds that the best things lie between the covers, movies never live up to the original form and TV is a form of the deliberate dumbing down of America.  So when I found myself sick and reading was too much effort-I started watching netflix shows (on my 13 year olds netflix account).  Once I got past the shock of some of the shows I didn’t know she was watching, I started looking at shows for me.  And I found myself watching “Good Witch” from the Hallmark Channel.  It’s a plucky story of a widowed mom who lives in a quirky town with her 15 year old daughter and her two older stepchildren who are out of the house.  Catherine Bell is a witch in this small town who decides to open her home as a Bed and Breakfast.  As I watched episode after episode of this show I realized it’s a sanitized version of the Gilmore Girls.  Instead of sarcastic wit and insane townspeople, we have magic feelings and sappy story lines.  No one is having sex, but we have a lot of townspeople working together to bring bizarre festivals to life.  And I realized that this dichotomy is one we are facing in everything today.  Instead of sarcastic banter we have vitriol.  Instead of challenging plot lines we have super heroes.  And instead of leaving each episode of a favorite TV show feeling a little bit guilty for enjoying all the pop culture banter and the snarky commentary of Lorelai and Rory–we have this empty feeling as though that’s an hour we will never get back…

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