No More Black Magic ( Here Witchy Witchy: Book One) By A.L. Kessler Blog Tour With Review

A.L. Kessler Presents

No More Black Magic

Here Witchy Witchy Book One

Release Date June 16^th, 2015

Blurb

Explosions, body parts, and black magic are all part of Abby Collins’ typical day. As the top Paranormal Investigation Bureau agent, she only gets the best cases, but when the Cult of Ra comes to play she might in be over her head. Finding a murderer while up against a hex, an overprotective coven, and a stubborn werewolf reminds her that nothing in the paranormal world is easy. As the death toll rises and a decades old crime, linked to Abby, is uncovered, disturbing information is brought to light. Abby must unlock an ancient language steeped in black magic to uncover the truth before the murderer comes for her.

Where to buy:

Amazon: http://amzn.to/1KkWs4y 
Barnes and Noble: http://bit.ly/nmbmbnpre
Kobo: http://bit.ly/nmbmkobopre

Excerpt

Simon pulled to a strange dirt parking lot on the side of the road. Cars of all kinds were haphazardly parked and I assumed it was other pack members. We got out and I looked around. A small trail led into the woods and suddenly there was a lump in my throat that I couldn’t breathe past.

“There’s magic around here.” I whispered. “Weres can’t be witches or warlocks.”

“Yes, but it doesn’t mean we don’t ally with them. Come on, follow me.” He held his hand out to me.

I looked at it for a moment before I decided to take it. I wanted the comfort he might be able to provide me. Our fingers interlocked and I calmed a little bit. I closed my eyes for a moment and focused. I could feel his wolf counterpart within him, another soul and another aura if I tried to see it.

He tugged on my hand and I followed him down the path and through the tall trees. I could feel others, I could feel magic below my feet. A witch had blessed the ground. It was supposed to feel like home, but since I was a stranger, it felt wrong for me to be here. It was used to welcome people and keep unwanted visitors away. It made me sick to my stomach, but I pushed on.

Simon and I came to a stop at a large cabin in a clearing. The fire department would have called the lack of trees mitigation, but I knew it was a circle, part of the spell a witch did for them. If I had to guess there was probably a mile on each side of the cabin.

“It’s beautiful.” I said and examined the logs and the design of the cabin. “How many can it house?”

“Twenty to thirty, depending on if we double up in the rooms.  Each room has two beds, but we have extra cots if need be.” He let go of my hand as someone walked out.

I’d never met the Alpha, but I knew this was him. His black hair was cut short and his brown gaze cut into me. He stood tall and demanded attention. Like Simon, he was dressed in older clothes, and I assumed it meant they wouldn’t care if they got ruined. The muscles of his arms were solid and his chest strained against the tight muscle shirt that he wore. Yeah, I wouldn’t stand a chance in a fight against this guy, even if he was human.

Simon bowed his head. “Alpha.”

“Simon, so this is her?” His eyes ran over my body and I raised a brow. I had dressed in my normal black clothes with boots. I had, as requested, left the gun in the car, but my blade was sheathed across my back, hidden by my jacket.

Simon put a hand on my back and urged me to step forward.

“I’m Abigail.” I offered my hand, but Greg grabbed my wrist and jerked me forward. I caught myself with a hand against his chest.

“You are a threat to my people, you offer me the back of your neck in submission.” He growled. “Do you understand that?”

I gritted my teeth and pulled my braid away from the back of my neck and bowed low enough that I offered it to him. My verbal answer wouldn’t have been good enough. He was trying to show off his strength, his power, and I was willing to bet other members of the pack were watching from the windows of the cabin. Arguing with him wouldn’t have done me any good.

I felt his teeth bite the back of my neck. It wasn’t enough to hurt, but enough that I knew he was trying to dominate me. The gesture felt strange in human form, but I let it go. He backed away and let go of my wrist.

I straightened up and met his gaze. I proved that I wasn’t there to threaten him, but I refused to act submissive to him in other terms. “I appreciate your invitation for tonight.”

“I figured I wouldn’t have a choice as soon as you realized that Matthew was here. You’re PIB, laws say I have to work with you. Instead, I invited you here.”

“So I’d have to follow your rules.” Smart. “If we’re playing paranormal politics, that means I must make you aware of my connections to Leviticus Felecos, ruling vampire of the Four Corners Territory.”

He bowed his head. “It is understood that you are to cause no harm while you are here.”

I had to choose my words carefully, they would bind me to the rules for the night. If I went against my word it meant that I could be killed. Levi had taught me well when it came to this. “I will not cause harm as long as my life is not threatened and I request that my witness remains alive so I can use him to close my case.”

MY REVIEW 

This book is by far one of the best from A.L. Kessler. Having the pleasure of seeing her style evolve has been a  real treat. No More Black Magic read like a tv show. I so saw it play as I read it. I like the way she had me sitting on the edge of my seat thru out the whole story. At times I was sad for Abby other times I was screaming at my kindle like WHAT NO Seriously that just happened ? This book is chalked full of plot twists and just when you think you have it figured out it twists again and makes you start guessing again. To me the book was just right in length not to short not to long not to gory even though some of the descriptions were like WOW!!! sorry no spoilers lol if you want to know what I am talking about go grab your copy of No More Black Magic TODAY!!! Trust me its well worth it and you won't be disappointed 

About the Author

A.L. Kessler is a paranormal romance, urban fantasy and steam punk author residing in Colorado Springs. Since she was a teenager she's loved weaving stories and spinning tales. When she's not at the beck-and-call of the Lord and Lady of the House, two black cats by the names of Jynx and Sophie, training a playful puppy named Zelda, playing with her daughter, or killing creepers and mining all the things with her husband, she's either reading, participating in NaNoWriMo, or writing in her Blog Writing Rambles.

 Interact with the Author:

Facebook

Goodreads

Twitter

   Home of A.L. Kessler

Other works by A.L. Kessler

Dark War Chronicles

Beyond the world of humans, a supernatural war rages on. Surrounded by secrets, power, and bloodshed the people of Lucius' territory struggle to stay in control. With the Looming threat of the Vampire Circle raising the Father of all Vampires, it's every creature for himself — Choose your side.

Midnight Symphony

The legend of the Gypsy Lady had been passed down for centuries, and now it is Cora's turn to dance in the square. Giving people hope and taunting the Demon King is what she lives for, until she catches the attention of Darius, prince of the demons. Hidden behind her mask, she keeps her identity from him until she is captured by the king. With her magic on the verge of waking and the village on the brink of war can Cora tame Darius' heart before it's too late?

Darius became obsessed with the Gypsy Lady the first time he had seen her dance and play in the market place. The night he kissed her became his undoing. When his father captures the woman people believed to be a spirit, Darius takes the chance to observe her. His obsession with her grows into something more, he knows that together they can stop the war and set things right, but can he accept it?

Restraint Blog Tour

I am Katya Waters.
A survivor of violence.
I fought death and won.
So why do I feel so dead inside?

Katya Waters is a small-town girl, mentally unprepared to deal with her deep, dark past. While walking in her sanctuary, her innocence was torn from her in the most brutal fashion- run to the ground as if she were an animal by a pack of vicious Hunters. After they wounded her spirit, they left her for dead.

How does one overcome a debilitating, tragic event? By strength, perseverance, and an unrelenting will to survive.

Out of desire, Katya no longer wanted to be the hunted. She hungered to be the hunter.

Finally taking her life into her own hands, Katya reached for what she’d earned, for the respect every human being so rightfully deserves.

By moving to a new city for the job of her dreams, Katya unwittingly brought her past nightmares to life, slowly drawing the repressed, dark memories into the light. With a deep desire to explore her true nature, Katya entered the BDSM Club, Restraint; never realizing there would be no escape from her secrets within the club’s walls. Katya’s entire existence turned into a living, breathing, never-ending therapy session from Hell.

The Boss pulled Katya into a thrilling game of Kat & Mouse as a way to force Katya to accept the truth of her past. Follow Katya’s heartbreaking journey as she connected the mystery of her past with her thrilling present.

… As long as I have a tomorrow, I can endure today.

Book 1
Buy Links

Amazon US  ~  Amazon UK  ~  Amazon Au  ~  Amazon Ca

Now Available in Paperback

Amazon US  ~  Amazon UK  ~  Createspace

Cort’s Everlasting Wood

“Don’t pull Ezra’s psycho-babble out on me, Cort,” I warn. “I’ve cried enough on you guys’ shoulders, back when I was dumb enough to trust you. I was cold and smart, and then Ez manipulated me into feeling warm and safe again. I’m no longer that dipshit of a woman I’ve been for the past two months.”

Cort tries to be the voice of reason again. Scary thought. “Kat–”

But I cut him off. “I never lie down and wait for help that will never arrive. I won’t be passive. I take matters into my own hands and save myself. That’s what smart people do.”

“Smart people also recognize the person standing before them as someone who they can trust, someone who is only here because they want to help. A smart person knows when to ask for help instead of being stubborn. Maybe I should have Aaron tell you this shit, since I’m usually the one he smacks in the face with reality.”

“I don’t need your help right now. I need to regroup, to plan my next course of action,” I bite out.

“And out of everyone you know, who the fuck do you think is the best person for that job?” Cort snarls. “I’m a goddamned writer. Your writer.” Cortez gestures to his body, not only talking with his hands, but screaming with them. “I’m the motherfucking plot master! So let’s go plot, Kitten.”

“I don’t know if I can trust you,” I whisper.

“Trust this,” Cort breathes into my face, getting angrier with every word spoken. “I’ve been with Ez since birth, and he’s fucked me over time and time again. He’s left me feeling just as bereft, raw, betrayed, and wounded as you feel right now. Worse, actually. So trust that I want to punish Ezra more than you could ever imagine, even if I have to use you to do it. Trust that, Kitten.” My throat clenches– a remembrance of how far Cortez Abernathy is willing to go to teach Ezra a lesson, even if he has to use me to do it. That, I can trust.

No soft touches between us as Cort looks into my eyes, knowing the exact direction of my thoughts. He doesn’t apologize. He doesn’t shrug or nod. He doesn’t even smirk. He just keeps staring at me with blatant honesty and a need to seek his own vengeance, even if he has to use my pain as an excuse.

“Ezra never apologizes to you, does he? He never allows you to punish him, does he?”

“Never,” Cort breathes; eyes glossy, fists clenched. “Not once. Ez hits me where it hurts the most, using mental tactics I can’t avoid. The sick thing is, he doesn’t even realize he’s harming me in the process. The few times I’ve hurt him, it was nothing compared to the pain he’s dealt me. So, what’s the plan, Kitten? We both need this.”

Cortez looks at me as if he’s seeing me for the very first time. We’ve been around each other a few times, and I’ve never felt as if I ever really got to know him. Yes, being skull-fucked was enlightening. But reading Cortez Abernathy’s books had given me even more insight into him as a person. Of all the conversations we’ve held so far, this moment is the first time I’ve understood Cortez on a human level.

I look back at Cort as well, truly seeing him for the person he is, and liking what I see. Cort is my mirror image, more like me than anyone I’ve ever met.

Aaron is childlike in his pain. He’s severely loyal to Ezra, which is a detriment to his other relationships. I’m not discrediting him for it. I love him in spite of it. Aaron will always put Ezra above all others, no matter the consequences. Which means I can only trust Aaron if Ezra has my best interests at heart. My lack of trust in Ezra means Aaron’s loyalty is not a chance I’m willing to take.

Ezra reacts all right, but on his own terms. He is selfless because he takes care of Aaron and Cortez first, but selfish because he does it to punish himself. The air around him is permeated with self-hatred. Doesn’t Ezra realize he can’t truly love someone else if he can’t love himself? He’ll always doubt their love, because why should they love what he hates?

Ezra is a martyr.

Cortez sees to his needs and wants first. It sounds selfish, but it’s not. How can you help others if you can’t help yourself? You must be at your strongest to tackle what life throws in your path. You cannot allow someone else to leach your strength, to drain you, or else you can’t shoulder your own burdens, let alone someone else’s. Cortez doesn’t break. He doesn’t wallow in his pain. He knows he’s fucked up, and accepts that fact with open arms. His attitude allows him to accept everyone else despite their problems. It’s a simple way of living– ruthless and practical. I accept them all.

“Are you going to go take a shower and cry like a little bitch, or are you going to grow a pair and help me plot?” Cort challenges me, more so with his unflinching attitude than with his words. “You with me?”

“I’m with ya,” I utter, never breaking his stare. My mind forms our plan in an instant. “We’re going shopping, and then we’re setting up the dungeon. I need you to do a few things for me, like get people rounded up. This will go down in history as a phenomenal punishment.”

“You’re not really going to hurt Ezra, are you?” Cort looks at me like I’ve lost my mind, causing a wicked smirk to pull at my lips. “I’m not sure I’m comfortable with that,” he breathes out.

“Says the man who used me to punish Ezra. Yeah, I ain’t buying your bullshit, buddy,” I taunt as Cort chokes on a laugh. “Oh, Ezra will hurt, all right. Just not physically– much. We’re going to hurt him where it matters. Cerebral fuckage, Dr. Ezra Zeitler-style.”

“Just hearing that made me spring wood,” Cort sighs, eyes slipping shut as he shifts the growing bulge around in his pants with the heel of his palm. Groaning from the contact, I realize I better distract Cort before he fucks himself. He’s shameless enough to masturbate before me, of that I have little doubt.

Erica Chilson does not write in the 3rd person, wanting her readers to be her characters. Therefore, writing a bio about herself, is uncomfortable in the extreme.

Born, raised, and here to stay, the Wicked Writer is a stump-jumper, a ridge-runner. Hailing from North Central Pennsylvania, directly on the New York State border; she loves the changes in seasons, the humid air, all the mountainous forest, and the gloomy atmosphere.

Introverted, but not socially awkward, Erica prides herself on thinking first and filtering her speech. There are days she doesn’t speak at all. If it wasn’t for the fact that she lives with her parents, giving her a sense of reality, she would be a hermit, where the delivery man finds her months after expiration.

Reading was an escape, a way to leave a not-so pleasant reality behind. Reading lent Erica the courage she gathered from the characters between the pages to long for a different life. Writing was an instrument of change, evolving Erica into the woman she is today- a better, more mature, more at peace thinker.

Erica has a wicked mind, one she pours out into her creations. Her filter doesn’t allow all of it to erupt, much to her relief. Sarcastic, with a very dark, perverse sense of humor, Erica puts a bit of herself into every character she writes.

Connect with Erica

Facebook  ~  Twitter  ~  Website  ~  Goodreads
Google+  ~  Pinterest  ~  tsū

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Hosted by

Fighting Silence Excerpt Reveal

Fighting Silence 

By. Aly Martinez 

Pre-order Fighting Silence

Amazon: http://amzn.to/19xDIie

RELEASE DATE: February 23rd, 2015 

     Blurb

Sound is an abstract concept for most people. We spend our lives blocking out the static in order to focus on what we believe is important. But what if, when the clarity fades into silence, it's the obscure background noise that you would give anything to hold on to?

 I've always been a fighter. With parents who barely managed to stay out of jail and two little brothers who narrowly avoided foster care, I became skilled at dodging the punches life threw at me. Growing up, I didn't have anything I could call my own, but from the moment I met Eliza Reynolds, she was always mine.  I became utterly addicted to her and the escape from reality we provided each other. Throughout the years, she had boyfriends and I had girlfriends, but there wasn't a single night that I didn't hear her voice.

 You see, meeting the love of my life at age thirteen was never part of my plan. However, neither was gradually going deaf at the age of twenty-one.

 They both happened anyway.

 Now, I'm on the ropes during the toughest battles of my life.

Fighting for my career.

Fighting the impending silence.

Fighting for her.

 Every night, just before falling asleep, she sighs as a final conscious breath leaves her.

 I think that's the sound I'll miss the most.

Fighting Silence

*Sexy Excerpt*

“Hi.” I stood up off the bed as he started climbing through the window.

His eyes went wide when he saw me, causing him to momentarily lose his balance on the windowsill and go crashing to the floor. “God. Damn,” he cursed as he rose to his feet while taking in my new wardrobe. “You… I…um…” His hand went to his lip.

He was rooted in place only a few steps away, but his eyes traveled over every inch of my body and back again.

Till was speechless. I had never felt so empowered in my life.

“Are you okay?” I feigned concern as I slowly approached.

“Not even close,” he told my breasts, making me giggle.

After sliding a hand under the edge of his T-shirt, I raked a fingernail over each of his abs before dipping it into the waistband of his jeans.

“I’m sore today,” I announced, closing the distance between us. My breasts were pressed against him, but he still hadn't even attempted to touch me yet. I had plans to remedy that. I smirked then stood up on my tiptoes, kissing the base of his neck. “Make me sore for tomorrow too.” At the last second, I darted my tongue out to the hollow dip at the base of his neck. It was meant to tease him, but as the taste of his skin hit my tongue, I was flooded with memories of taking more of him in my mouth. The moan escaped before I’d even felt it coming.

A loud rumble shook his chest, but that was the only warning I received. Suddenly, I was off my feet and sailing through the air. Just as I landed on the bed, Till crashed on top of me. His mouth roughly landed on mine.

“Tell me we can’t do this again,” he demanded as his hands found my breasts.

“We’re definitely doing this again.” I arched into him.

“It’s gonna get so messy, Eliza. Please.” He groaned as I reached into the front of his jeans.

“I’m okay with messy,” I breathed, guiding his hand from my breast and into my panties.

“Fuuuuuck” he cursed when he discovered just how thorough I’d been with the razor earlier. His finger pressed inside me as his body traveled down the bed and settled between my legs, stripping my panties off during his descent.

He added another finger in a less than gentle but overwhelmingly intoxicating, rhythm.

“Tell me to stop, Eliza. We can’t do this again.” He grazed his teeth on the inside of my thigh.

“We’re already doing it.”

“Tell me to stop.”

“No.”

“It’s going to ruin us.”

“If you don’t stop talking, you’re going to ruin this.”

“I’m serious.” He kissed the inside of my other thigh, his fingers never faltering in their steady pace.

“So am I. Stop trying to talk yourself out of this while your fingers are buried inside me.” I threaded a hand into his hair and gave it a gentle tug.

“Goddammit. Tell me to stop!” he demanded one last time, but his fingers sped before twisting in the most delicious way.

I decided to give him what he wanted, but only because I knew he wouldn't follow through.

“Stop.” I rolled my hips forcing him even deeper.

“Well, it’s too fucking late now.”

I would have laughed, but his mouth sealed over my clit and stole my breath, words, thoughts, and orgasm. My body shook as he pushed me higher even while I was falling. It shouldn't have worked like that, but whatever voodoo magic Till Page was working with that night was all right with me. He didn't stop swirling his tongue until I used his hair to pry his mouth away.

“Too much!” I cried.

He looked up with a wickedly proud grin. His hand disappeared, and seconds later, his cock replaced it.

About the Author:

Aly Martinez

Born and raised in Savannah, Georgia, Aly Martinez is a stay-at-home mom to four crazy kids under the age of five, including a set of twins. Currently living in South Carolina, she passes what little free time she has reading anything and everything she can get her hands on, preferably with a glass of wine at her side.

After some encouragement from her friends, Aly decided to add “Author” to her ever-growing list of job titles. Five books later, she shows no signs of slowing. So grab a glass of Chardonnay, or a bottle if you’re hanging out with Aly, and join her aboard the crazy train she calls life.

Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads

Hosted By: 

The Girl In White Pajamas Blog tour

The Girl in White Pajamas 

By Chris Birdy

Tour Hosted By Ashley's Addictive Book Promotions

Blog Tour August 18th -29th 

Bogie McGruder, a private investigator and Florida real estate investor, learns that his cop brother is gunned down on the streets of Boston. When Bogie and his teenage daughter return to Boston for the funeral. he finds his family reeling out of control, fueled by alcohol and mired in scandals.

While home for his brother's services, Bogie is contacted by his old flame, a young Boston attorney named Bailey Hampfield, who is seeking protection from a dangerous and unknown stalker. Bailey also has yet to tell Bogie that he is the father of her three year old daughter.

What begins as a short condolence trip to Boston for Bogie, soon turns into a deepening investigation into a twisted tale of murder, deceit and family lies.

Witty and dark, The Girl In White Pajamas is an entertaining read, filled with gritty characters and broken morals.

She looked up, took in a quick breath and gasped before she said, “God dammit, Bud!  What do you want from me!?”  She yelled over the wind not expecting an answer to her question.  Bailey shouted, “Stop stalking me!”

“I want you to give me a chance.  Don’t want you to do anything...”  Bud stopped speaking.  His heart raced, and his eyes opened wide as he heard a familiar metallic click behind him.  As the trigger was engaged, he dived toward her, knocking Bailey to the ground.  The bullet entered the back of his head and exited the front, taking brain and bone fragments with it.  Bailey lay motionless where she had fallen with Bud’s body slumped on top of hers.

“That’s the beauty of the ‘Bogie Man’.  He decides when your time is up, and you’re gone, history.”

For almost twenty-five years, I did investigative work for small law firms conducting business in rough housing projects and crack house neighborhoods. I met with clients in every jail in the area even the now defunct Charles Street Jail and Deer Island House of Corrections. On good days, I got to take the .25 caliber handgun out of my pocket and the 9mm out of my purse and go to court. Then the real show began!
Several years ago, while sitting in a courtroom with a client, I watched as a police officer was lambasted by an attorney. The attorney was defending a young woman who crashed her car into two other vehicles before she passed out drunk behind the wheel. The occupants of the other cars were seriously hurt and the cop, a former EMT, tried to assist the injured while waiting for ambulances to arrive. The attorney questioned the cop's every move, shredded his testimony and made him seem inept.
Embarrassed, the cop returned to his seat beside me and muttered, "Everybody lies. The judges lie, the lawyers lie, the witnesses lie.." I wanted to tell him not to worry that in about five years he'd be just as good a liar as they were.
The seeds for The Girl in White Pajamas were planted in that courtroom.

Social Media Links:

Email:    chrisbirdy9@gmail.com

Website:  http://www.chrisbirdy.com

Twitter:  https://twitter.com/CHRISBIRDY1

Facebook:  https://www.facebook.com/pages/CHRIS-BIRDY/143255175852695

Book Links 

Amazon:  http://www.amazon.com/Girl-White-Pajamas-Chris-Birdy/dp/1481871986/ref=cm_cr_pr_product_top

Barnes and Noble:  http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-girl-in-white-pajamas-chris-birdy/1115417678?ean=9781481871983

Goodreads:  https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/17994253-the-girl-in-white-pajamas

Alibris:  http://www.alibris.com/booksearch?browse=0&keyword=the+girl+in+white+pajamas&mtype=B&hs.x=0&hs.y=0&hs=Submit

What would I like to tell people.  I lived in the areas I write about and have witnessed and/or survived most of the things I write about. 

Latest news..  The second book in the series, The Girl in Black Pajamas is coming out in the fall. 

First bitten by writing bug?  I’ve always written in one form or another.  Easily bored, I drew pictures or wrote letters to imaginary friends when I was a student.

When did you consider yourself a writer?  I believe I’ve always considered myself a writer.  That is my way of expressing myself and helped me make a living.  Although my primary job was investigations, I also assisted attorneys in writing settlement briefs from the raw data.  That was fiction writing at its finest.

What inspired you to write your first book?  A few years ago, while sitting in a courtroom with a client, I watched as a police officer was lambasted by an attorney.  The attorney was defending a woman who crashed her car into two other vehicles before she passed out drunk at the wheel.  The other drivers were seriously hurt and the cop, a former EMT, tried to assist the injured while waiting for ambulances to arrive.  The attorney questioned the cop’s every move, shredded his testimony and made him seem inept.

Embarrassed, the cop returned to his seat beside me and muttered, “Everybody lies.  The judges lie, the lawyers lie, the witnesses lie...”  I wanted to tell him not to worry that in about five years he’d be just as good a liar as they were.

That day I realized that many of those who are entrusted with upholding and enforcing the law have the least regard for it.  The seeds for the “The Girl in White Pajamas” were planted in that courtroom.

Specific writing style:  I write like I speak, profanity, vulgarity and all.  That’s me.

The title grew from the story.  It started as a love story wrapped up in a murder mystery, but the child’s role became pivotal and she became the object of the story.

What do you want readers to get out of your novels?  I want them to be entertained.  When I read a book, I want to be entertained and feel that I’ve had a positive experience.  I have no secret message or platform other than the belief that people are what they are – take them or leave them but don’t try to change them.

Is the book mostly fantasy?  NO!  Sadly most of the things I write about have happened.

Music:  Bogie’s old school and macho.  He like Frank Sinatra, Dean Martin, Michael Buble.  Bailey’s father was a country/western singer to she likes country music, being a Francophile she also listens to French music.

The experiences in my writing are definitely fact based.

What books influenced your life the most?  Gone with the Wind, Angela’s Ashes and, strangely, Forever Amber, which I read when I was ten years old.

Authors with the most influence:  John Sandford, Joseph Wambaugh, Susan Isaacs

What book are you reading now?  Just started Concealed in Death, the J.D. Robb (Nora Roberts) futuristic detective stories.  I think I’ve read all of them.

Have any authors interested you by their writing style…

Frank McCort.  He told a tragic story in Angela’s Ashes with hope and humor.  He even threw in some verses and songs.

What are your current projects?  Working on the edits on the second book while going through the first draft of the third novel. 

Do you see writing as a career?  I do now.  I believe that all my previous jobs were done to get life experiences.  At times, when I was in a dangerous situation, I’d think to myself, “This is going to make one hell of a story!”

Change anything in your latest book.  No, I don’t think so.

Current work:  In the second book one of Bogie’s employees in his Boston security firm is shot in the back and a hacker is trying to break through his computer network.  Meanwhile, in Florida, deputy sheriffs are making porn movies and selling them on the internet.

Three favorite authors:  John Sandford, Michael Connelly and Joseph Wambaugh.

The covers:  The cover for the first book was designed by Erica Baert – she’s a graphic artist.  I told her what I wanted and provided her with snapshots of my granddaughter at three years old.  Yes, my granddaughter was the model for Isabella.

I don’t find writing a book hard.  I have a vague outline in my head when I begin and then start writing.  I’m amazed how a story turns out when it’s finally over.  Because I’m a newbie in the publishing world, I don’t have the pressure of contracts and deadlines.  The book is ready when I’m comfortable with it.

What did I learn from writing the book?  I learned more after I wrote the book and that is that there’s no silver bullet or fast track to the top.  There’s a lot of steady, hard work and marketing to get noticed.  And that’s a job in itself.

Advice to other writers?  Unless you love what you do and feel compelled and driven, stop!  Writing is not a group activity.  It’s a solitary business that allows you sit and wonder why the hell you chose this path.

Which comes first – For me it’s the characters and then how they react to different situations?

Published writer:  Advice:  Unless you’re a celebrity, don’t sit around and wait for an agent or publisher to notice you.  If you think your work is good, self-publish.  You’ll learn the business by the seat of your pants the others before you have.

a Rafflecopter giveaway