Featured Author: Spurred On by @sabrina_york #ASMSG #Giveaway

Spurred On by Sabrina York

The third sexy, Stripped Down novel from the author of Stud for Hire and Cowboy to Command.

Just south of Fort Worth, Texas, you’ll find a little ranch where the hot, toned cowboys are ready and eager to take it all off and make your naughtiest fantasies come true…

As the owner of the Double S Ranch, Cody Silver knows what women want—all except the one that got away. So when his high school girlfriend Sidney Stevens comes back to town for her sister’s wedding, Cody will do whatever it takes to prove that he’s a changed man.
After their explosive breakup, it took a long time for Sidney’s broken heart to heal —and she’s not about to risk it again. She’ll tangle with Cody and live out her simmering fantasies, but when the time comes she’s going to walk away satisfied.
But love has a way of ruining the best laid plans, and Cody and Sidney are about to learn that what you want isn’t always what you need…

“Sabrina York can write a sexy cowboy like no other!” Susan Stoker, New York Times bestselling author


Cody Silver’s feet tangled and he almost fell on his face as a tall drink of water uncurled herself from a refurbished red hot Mustang and surveyed the front yard of his ranch house. The first thing he noticed was the curve of her ass because, seriously? It was a fantastic ass. And then he noticed her boobs. His pulse picked up. His salivary glands went into overdrive.
Her hair was gorgeous too, a kind of burnt umber, not enough for her to be a classic redhead, but enough that it probably spoke to her passion in bed. It tumbled down her back in a riot of curls.
With that figure, she had to be gorgeous too. Didn’t she? He found himself burning with curiosity to see her face, so he headed in her direction.
This was his home. It was only polite to welcome her.
Maybe she was a potential customer for the Stud Ranch. Maybe she was a friend of Claire’s. Whatever. He didn’t care. He just wanted to meet her because he hadn’t felt this kind of instant attraction since—
She turned and he got a glimpse of her profile and a skitter of unease rippled through him.
No. God no. It couldn’t be.
But then she heard him coming and glanced over her shoulder. He saw her full on and his heart dropped clear through to his churning belly.
His steps slowed. His anticipation faded. His trepidation rose.
It was her. Sidney Fucking Stevens.
What was she doing here? After all these years?
And why did she still have this crazy power over him?
No other woman had. No other woman did.
It had been over ten years since their misbegotten affair and the sense of loss still felt fresh. Probably because, after all this time, he wasn’t quite sure how it had happened. How he had lost her. Why he’d done what he’d done.
He idly wondered if she still hated him.
Or, perhaps, not so idly.
He sucked in a breath, steeled his spine and tipped his hat as he approached. Then he fixed something that might have been a smile on his face. Might as well try. “Sidney,” he said, ignoring the catch in his voice.
She stilled. Her eyes narrowed and her nose twitched. She looked him up and down with a frigid perusal.
Oh yeah. She still hated him.
“It’s been a long time.” The best opening he could manage.
She nodded, but said, “Not long enough.” She muttered it under her breath, but he heard. He suspected he was supposed to.
“What, ah, brings you to these parts?” he asked. “Are you here to see Claire?”
“Yes.” Her response was short and clipped. Nearly snarled, as though she couldn’t bear to be in his presence. Couldn’t bear to speak to him.
Now, Cody had his share of exes—more than a man probably should—but none of them could hold a grudge like Sidney Stevens.
“Claire’s out of town.” He hated saying it, because she’d probably get back into her car and leave and he didn’t think he could bear that. Though this altercation was anything but amiable, he didn’t want it to end. Not yet. It was better to have her stand there and hiss at him like an angry cat than leave. Especially after all this time. He found he wanted, more than he should, to keep her here. Which was, all things considered, foolish beyond reason. “Can I…help you?”
She did it again. Looked him up and down. He was left with the impression that, in her opinion, he was lower than a bug. But then, he couldn’t blame her. He’d been a dumbass back them and he wasn’t much better now.
She huffed out a sigh and turned away, raking her fingers through that glorious mane. “When will she be back?”
“A week. Maybe more?”
“What? Where the hell did she go?”
He blinked at her ferocity. “She’s gone to Houston to do some marketing. See if she can get more customers in.”
Cody, his brother Cade, and sister Claire, had turned their large ranch house into a B&B that specialized in parties for women…complete with hot dancers. It had been Cody’s idea, one born of desperation, when the bank had threatened to foreclose on the property after their father’s death. They’d gotten a lot of interest, but the jury was still out on whether this side-business could save the farm.
It would kill him to lose everything his grandfather and father had worked so hard to build. He didn’t know who he’d be without the Double S. And his siblings felt the same way. Each of them put their all into this last gasp chance to save their inheritance.
Sidney made a face and sighed. “I wish I’d known. I came from Dallas to see her.” Yeah. After high school, after their break up, she’d moved there and—other than an occasional visit to her parents—she’d never come back. He’d certainly never seen her around town. Not that he looked for her. Every day.
He suspected she took great pains to make sure they never crossed paths when she happened to come to Snake Gully. Damn it all anyway.
She looked good, real good…but he knew better than to say as much.
Her nose curled again. “I heard about what you’re doing here.”
Sidney’s distaste was not the first he’d faced. Snake Gully was a small, conservative town and even though the ranch was on the outskirts, some of the old timers didn’t like the idea of bringing in dancers and horny housewives from Dallas. They didn’t like it one iota.
But not one of those bastions of town had offered to help them out of their financial quandary. So, well…so there.
He didn’t know how to respond, so he just nodded. “What brings you to town?” he asked before he could stop the words.
She pinned him with a sharp glance and stared at him for a long while, as though trying to decide if she should deign speak to him or just turn around and flounce away. At long last, she said, on a huff, “My sister is getting married.”
He nodded. “Yeah. I heard. Um, congratulations.” The word burned on his tongue. He knew Hanna’s fiancé…and hated him. Zack Pucey was the biggest asshole on this side of the Rio Grande. And the other side.
And anywhere, really.
Why Hanna had agreed to marry him was a mystery. She was sweet and well-liked. Zack was despised. It was the oddest coupling he’d ever seen.
Sidney shuddered. “Congratulations? Thanks a bunch. Anyway, I’m in charge of the bachelorette party. I was thinking about having it here.”
He gaped at her. A rowdy party featuring a passel of hot, toned strippers was hardly Hanna’s style. But hell, a booking was a booking. “Sure. Come on inside and we can look at the calendar.”
“I’d rather deal with Claire.”
Not a shock. “She’s not here.”
“Or Cade.”
“Not here either.” He held out his hands to illustrate his helplessness. Not that he wanted to get her alone in a private space, but he did. Of course, if he dared touch her, she’d probably rack him in the balls. But a guy could dream. “Looks like you’re stuck with me.” He batted his lashes, surely not because he knew it would annoy her. “I promise to behave.”
Well, hell. Maybe he shouldn’t have made that vague reference to the fact that they’d once been something more than icy-polite strangers. She’d melted him once. That was how hot she was.
But she wasn’t hot now. Now she was cold. Frigid. Her icy glower made him shiver. He turned and walked back to the house. He didn’t check to see if she followed, because that would be an admission that he cared. Besides, he could hear her heels crunching on the gravel.
And damn. She was wearing heels.
He loved her in heels.
He forced that scintillating thought from his mind as he pushed open the door to the office and gestured to a chair. Then he dropped into the seat the other side of the desk—surely not because he felt a sudden need for some barrier between them—and opened the calendar. “Do you have a date in mind?”
She mentioned something in June and they settled on a couple options.
“And how many people?”
Another frown. “I don’t know. Twenty-five?”
He arched a brow. “That many?”
“Tibby wants to come.” This she spat.
His head came up so fast he bit his tongue. Tibby. What a horror. Aside from being Zack’s sister and a monster in her own right, she was the woman Cody’d started dating right after he and Sidney broke up.
Beyond that, Tibby was still convinced that Cody was in love with her—even though their relationship, if one could call it that, had ended nearly as soon as it had begun. Even though all that had happened nearly a decade ago. Tibby attached to him like a remora whenever they happened to cross paths.
Naturally, he avoided her like the plague.
He swallowed heavily. Cleared his throat. “Ah…Tibby?”
Sidney nodded. “She’s bringing her friends.”
Claire was going to have a conniption. She’d made it clear that Tibby was never to be invited to the ranch. But if it was a condition of Sidney’s booking, he would have to accede. Because he’d realized, all of a sudden, this was the opportunity he’d dreamed of. An opportunity to see her again. And maybe, if he was lucky, to seduce her again.
It was something he’d fantasized about for ten long years.
Making love to Sidney again…and finally getting her out of his system.
He hummed with excitement as they waded through the details of her event. Even as he wrote down each of her requirements, his mind was in a whirl, surreptitiously planning how he might soften her wrath, when and where he might kiss her again. It was foolish of him, but he couldn’t resist. Being so close to her again, drawing in her scent, hearing her voice…all weakened his resolve, his protective instincts.
With a shock he realized, he would do anything to be with her again. If only once.
When they’d finished all the paperwork she stilled and folded her hands in her lap. Then she looked at him—really looked at him for the first time. For once her gaze was not distant. It was warm, open, almost pleading. “I have…a special request, Cody.”
He poised his pen over the order form, even though all he wanted to do was stare at her. And maybe drool. “Yeah? What is it?” Whatever it was, he’d do it. If only to see that sincere look in her eye again. If only to please her.
She took a deep breath and captured his gaze.
“I want you to help me scuttle this wedding.”

Cody stared at her. As well he should. It was an insane idea, but Sidney was out of ideas.
She’d been desperate enough to come here. To take the chance of seeing him again, after all the heartache he’d caused. And man, it had been hard to maintain a civil countenance in his presence. She wanted to yell at him, rail, howl. She wanted to run. But she didn’t. This was too important. Hanna needed this—even though she didn’t realize it.
Still, Sidney deserved a frigging Oscar for her acting.
Cody blinked. “Excuse me? You want me to…what?”
She glowered at him. For some reason he flinched. “Come on, Cody. Quit playing innocent. You and I both know there’s something wrong here. Hanna doesn’t love Zack. Not really. We need to show her.”
He shook his head, as though he didn’t understand. But then, maybe he didn’t. Men were notoriously oblivious. About everything. “Show her what?”
“That she’s not in love with Zack. What a mistake this wedding would be.”
“Sidney…” He sighed. “How am I supposed to do that?”
“You have hot guys here. Can’t you have one of them…?” She waved a hand in an illustrative manner.
“Seduce her?”
“You want me to hire a gigolo to seduce your sister?” He gaped at her so she glared back. “That’s illegal, you know.”
“It doesn’t have to be a gigolo.” Hanna was hardly the type of woman who needed pay for play. “What about other men?”
“Other men?”
She shot to her feet and began to pace. “Surely you have friends?”
He seemed slightly put out. “I have friends,” he insisted.
“Some handsome, hot, single guy friends who might like redheads?”
“You want to match make?”
“Whatever it takes. Anything to make her realize that whatever it is she has with Zack isn’t love.”
“Are you so sure it’s not love?”
She whipped around and pinned him with a sneer. “Zack? Really?” Surely Cody could see that Hannah was making a monumental mistake. One that would ruin her life.
Cody took a moment to consider her request, then shrugged. “I can try.”
Try? She braced her hands on the desk and scowled at him. “Go through your little black book. Invite some friends who might be interested.”
He pushed back his chair and stood. “You’re asking for a lot.”
“Am I? Really?”
“Asking that you invite some friends to a party?”
“It’s a party for women.”
“There you go. You have horny friends, don’t you?” Her tone underpinned the old adage that birds of a feather flocked together and for some reason he looked wounded. She didn’t care.
His beautiful features firmed. He eyed her with a sharp consideration that made her teeth clench. “And what do I get in return? For this…favor?”
His tone made the tiny hairs on her nape prickle. “I’ll make it worth your while.”
“Will you?”
She narrowed her eyes. “What do you want?”
“I think you know.”
She leaped to her feet. “Forget it. I am not sleeping with you.”
His smirk was so annoying she wanted to smack it off his too-pretty face. “Did I ask you to sleep with me?”
“Then what?” A snap.
He shrugged and arranged his features into an innocent mien, one he’d perfected after years of practice. “A kiss. That’s all I want.”
She gaped at him. “A kiss?”
“Just a kiss. But a real one. You know what I mean.”
“Fine. Come here.”
He laughed. It was low and rumbling and arrogant and annoying as hell. “Not now. Later.”
“At a time of my choosing.”
Oh hell. He was even more aggravating than she remembered. “Fine.”
“You agree to my terms?”
She shot him what she hoped was a scorching glare. “Yes.”
“Excellent.” He stood and collected her copy of the agreement and handed it to her and then, to her consternation, followed her out to her car.
She had a little trouble walking on the gravel in her heels. Surely she hadn’t worn them in case she ran into him. Surely she hadn’t remembered how much le loved a woman in heels. She wanted nothing to do with him. Nothing whatsoever.
She hated that the prospect of kissing him made her belly warm, but she knew it was purely physical attraction and nothing more. Because of all the men in the world, Cody Silver was the last man she would want to be with. Any interaction with him was bound to end with her heart shattered in pieces on the floor, and she refused to let that happen to herself ever again.
She was so focused on her determination to avoid becoming entangled with him again, that she plowed right into him as he stopped by her car. Her ankle turned and, with a terrifying crack, her heel snapped and she fell.
He caught her.
There wasn’t even a moment to reflect on how good it felt to be held by those strong arms before his mouth came down on hers. Warm, hot, demanding.
You’d think, after ten years of hating him, she would have a modicum of resistance left in reserves. She did not.
To her horror, she found herself instantly sucked into the passion, the delirium of his kiss. God, he tasted good. So good. Her mind stopped working and her body took over.
She fisted her fingers in his hair and held him as he ravaged her mouth, nibbled on her lips and stroked her body.
It was mortifying that she seemed to have no will whatsoever.
When he lifted his head and grinned at her—an irritating, vexing smirk—a hard ball formed in her belly. He was too damn arrogant for his own good.
“That was nice,” he said.
She wrenched herself out of his arms and teetered before him. “I hope you enjoyed your kiss.”
“Oh no.” He grinned again. Dimples blossomed on his cheek. “That was not my kiss.”
Heat churned in her belly. “What?”
“That was your kiss.”
Fury raked her. Ripples skittered over her scalp. “What?”
“You’re the one who instigated that kiss.”
“I most certainly did not.”
“You threw yourself at me.”
“You are delusional.”
“Really?” Another smirk. “What was it then?”
She reached down and pulled off her broken shoe and waved it under his nose. “I fell.”
He pursed his lips. “Seriously Sidney? That old chestnut?”
“My. Shoe. Broke.”
“I see that. But I’ve had women sabotage their shoes before…so they could fall into my arms.”
Oh. Good. Glory.
He was, without exception, the most self-absorbed, egotistical douche canoe on the planet.
Without a word, she whirled away, hobbled to her car and tossed the damned shoe into the back seat. And then, without so much as a glare in his direction, hopped into her Mustang and sped away in a plume of dust.
God help her.
She couldn’t escape from his presence fast enough.
And she couldn’t shake the looming suspicion that she’d just made the biggest mistake of her life, coming to Cody Silver for help.

PREORDER NOW: https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B01ESI3PT2/


Stud for Hire

Cowboy to Command 10/18/2016

Spurred On   01/17/2017

The Real McCoy (Prequel #1) 

Come Hell or High Water (Prequel #2)

Protect and Serve–Cowboy Justice (Prequel #3)

Prequel Novellas
The Real McCoy (Prequel 1)
When Crystal Wilson gets roped into a wild, girls-only weekend at a rowdy “stud” ranch, the last thing she wants to do is tangle with a bunch of half-naked men pretending to be cowboys. But when she meets Ford McCoy, she can’t help but be attracted to his dark, dominant, gruff appeal.
What she doesn’t know is that Ford isn’t a stripper. He’s her friend’s overprotective brother, there to make sure his little sister doesn’t get into any trouble. She’s surprised at the passion that flares between them. In fact, what she has with Ford might just be what she’s been looking for all along.
It’s a pity the sexy rancher isn’t in the market for a city girl.

Come Hell or High Water (Prequel 2)
Back in her hometown on the heels of a nasty divorce, Lisa Binder is looking for a quiet place to curl up and lick her wounds. The last thing she wants is a man—she’s been hurt too many times by the faithless breed. But then Cade Silver steps through the flames, into her life and into her bed, and she begins to question her resolve to spend the rest of her life as a single cat lady.  The tall, handsome cowboy/fireman—an Eagle Scout and military vet—seems to be the kind of man she’s always craved, and he seems to be fascinated with her as well. But can she trust him not to break her heart?
Cade has been a little in love with Lisa since high school, but when she started dating his much more charming and handsome brother, he was devastated. He left town and joined the Marines to avoid the torment of seeing the two of them together. Now, years later, he’s traveled the globe, survived multiple disasters and experienced loss. He is a man who knows what he wants and is willing to fight for it. And he wants Lisa. Now that life has given him a second chance to win her heart, he’s determined to prove to her he can be the hero she desires…come hell or high water.
Protect and Serve (Prequel 3)
The last thing officer Charlie Dunham expects when he returns to his hometown is to tangle with his high school crush, Claire Silver, right off the bat. He’d planned to ignore her entirely—the way she’d always ignored him. But when a mysterious threat puts her in danger, he must step in and save her. It doesn’t take long for him to realize that he’s been lying to himself about his feelings for Claire. He wants her…no matter the cost.

Sabrina is also running a giveaway! Click on the link to enter  http://sabrinayork.com/spurred-on-stripped-down-cowboys-by-sabrina-york-giveaway/

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A chapter out of my book ‘Secrets of Writing a Bestseller’ #ASMSG #MFRWauthor

@HoustonHavens secretsSecrets of Writing a Bestseller

Today I’d like to share a Secret…on writing. When I was an unpublished writer all the published authors had a mantra: Show Don’t Tell. They said it so much, I felt like that was the only advice they had…and I was sick of it! First, that motto didn’t make sense to me – so I would be damned if I was going to follow such advice…yep, that’s me, a feisty Irish lass….a woman who walks her own path and will pay the price to walk it the way I please…thank you very much. And just so you know, I prefer to do a wee jig as I dance through me life – at least I can die saying – I did it my way…with a dance in me step.

It was then, as an unpublished writer when I decided to write a book called ‘Secrets On Writing A Bestseller’ and I set out to uncover those published authors’ secrets at getting published with every intent on telling each and every one of those secrets they guarded amongst themselves.

I’m not afraid of competition. I’m a firm believer there are plenty of readers to go around and share. No author has the same voice in telling a story, because our telling comes from our interests, beliefs, and slant on life and the subject in which the plot is taking place. No two beings have the same exact way of seeing things. NOT EVEN TWINS. Trust me I know, I’m a twin.

Though I’m working on Renegade Rapture, the fifth book in my Psychic Menage Series, I have started drafting a how-to book that I will be teaching at the coming Midwest Writers Conference (Indianapolis IN) for writers and authors this year. The first question I know you’ll be asking is – “Well, if it isn’t Show Don’t Tell then what is it?”

My answer is what I did (as well as other secrets) to get my very first book published by a major publisher and have it hit Amazon’s International and National Bestsellers list in six days of it release. I shared this answer in the first chapter of my book  ‘Secrets On Writing A Bestseller’ and you can get a sneak peek at my (coming release) answer right now.


Dispelling the Myths:

Myth Number One (and it’s a whooper): SHOW DON’T TELL

Really? If I showed EVERYTHING a simple novel would become a tome.  It’s NOT Show Don’t Tell
Show And Tell. The Secret is knowing what to show and what to tell, and it’s not that hard to know which and when to do it IF you’re told the rule.

Show the emotions and tell the actions.

EX: From my novel Sinful Surrender: book One of my Psychic Menage Series


Logan entered the room he used when he was in one of his voyeur moods. Drakker didn’t mind or care about his secret intrusions. He’d had this two-way mirrored chamber and the outer room built for two purposes. One, to keep Arlo from complaining about hearing Drakker’s more adventurous sex romps. And two, for rare occasions like this when it suited as an interrogation room. A world with continuous bouts of war left no room for normalcy in their leader’s life or home.
Arlo sat in the viewing room wearing a disgruntled expression, his arms crossed over his chest. His brother was young and still filled with piss and vinegar from time to time when stupidity of youth overruled his common sense. “What the fuck is going on?” Arlo’s anger exploded all over him before he could even find a seat. “You said this was to be an interrogation.”
“It is.”
“Really?” His wide-eyed stare said he didn’t believe him. “Then why did you undress her? Does your new method of questioning involve some form of defilement?”
“Defile– If you’re insinuating what I think you are, I should slug you for the insulting remark.” He slumped into a chair, bewildered by his brother’s offensive comment. Arlo knew them. He knew better. “Why would you all of a sudden start thinking we’d use any form of violence to interrogate a woman?”
“The answer to that stupid question stands there for itself, don’t you think?” Arlo glared through the mirror toward Fay’s chained and nearly naked form.
Logan’s glance followed. He could see where a stranger might conclude that, but not his own brother. He knew their strong beliefs against violence on women and children. “Arlo, things aren’t always what they appear to be. At Twenty-three, you’re old enough to know that.”
“Then stop talking to me like I’m a child or some moron.” He pounded his thumb into his own chest. “You’re not my fucking father!”
All the heat drained from Logan’s face, replaced with a cold, silent rage. He narrowed his eyes into icy slits at the affront. His words echoed Arlo’s but were laced with righteousness. “Not my fucking father?” Logan ground his teeth together so hard they hurt, but it gave him a moment to think before he spoke. “You idolized your blood father. Yet, you dishonor his soul with a reference like fucking, and you insult Drakker and me with your insinuations of abuse and torture?”
“Stop it! You’re twisting the meaning of everything I say so you can avoid answering my questions, and you’re doing it on purpose.”
“No, I’m not. I’m trying to understand what’s going on in your head. What makes you so virtuous you feel you have the right to judge others and hurt those who love you?” He jutted forward in his chair but kept himself from getting up; afraid he’d knock some sense into Arlo. “We’ve never used any form of pain to interrogate a woman. Why would we start now? What in the hell is going on with you?”


Now, let’s dissect this passage for the secret I’m discussing here: Show AND tell

Logan entered the room he used when he was in one of his voyeur moods.

In earlier chapters readers are told (through a technique called ‘foreshadowing’) about Logan through the dialogue of two other characters (Fay and her Mind Traveler guide). In the very first chapter of the novel, when the heroine first sees a picture of Logan, a bit of what he looks like is told but not everything. What’s shown is her emotional reaction (how his looks affect her body-he’s the hero after all and she’s the heroine, there has to be an attraction) to what she sees of him in the photograph. Then in chapter two, more is told  (foreshadowed) through another conversation between his two brothers (Arlo and Drakker). Readers discover some insight to what he looks like and that Logan’s the respected leader of the Airbornes (His people). Then more of what he looks like is told later  in the chapter when Fay sees Logan in person for the first time. Again, being that the scene is in her Point of View (POV), I show what she feels about what she sees.

However, having others reveal what another character looks like and does isn’t the only way to tell and show a character. Remember, there is more than ‘looks’ to a character. As an author you have to expose (show) the personality (His emotions, quirks, temper, and beliefs) of the character to the readers so they can connect. You decide how your readers will react to a character (Love, hate, or sympathize) by showing/exposing his traits…ALL his traits through deep Point of View (POV-discussed later in this book)

By Logan’s description being shown in such bits and pieces and sprinkled throughout the first few chapters by several characters, and done at the proper place within the book’s framework (discussed later in this book), readers don’t feel like they’re getting an info dump, but rather a slow exposure of this man.

Logan entered the room he used when he was in one of his voyeur moods.

However, at this point in the book (Logan’s just physically appeared on the scene – it’s the first the readers have actually meet him. So, it’s not important HOW he WALKED into the room (Logan strutted/stormed/marched/ran – you get what I mean) There is a bigger message I’ve spotlight for the readers to notice here. This first sentence tells something the reader doesn’t know about this character that the characters who spoke about him before couldn’t have known. I have Logan himself reveal to the readers things about himself by using (shown from Logan’s POV) Point of View. This sentence above tells something only he and his brother Drakker know about him – he’s a voyeur.

But do notice, I didn’t stop at telling he was a voyeur, the last word of this sentence also tells more about Logan than his looks or what he is. I give a hint to his character as a man – he’s moody. I gave the reader a lot of information in just 15 words.

Now the SHOWING part: I’ve highlighted all the showing parts of this scene: Notice the words I’ve picked that SHOW character, emotions, relationships, and description.

Logan entered the room he used when he was in one of his voyeur moods. Drakker didn’t mind or care about his secret intrusions. He’d had this two-way mirrored chamber and the outer room built for two purposes. One, to keep Arlo from complaining about hearing Drakker’s more adventurous sex romps. And two, for rare occasions like this when it suited as an interrogation room. A world with continuous bouts of war left no room for normalcy in their leader’s life or home.

In this above Paragraph I SHOWED (In red) through Logan’s POV how he felt or thought about his brothers and what he thought about his life, but I did it within the content of the plot. I didn’t want to use blatant sentences like; Logan thought his brother Arlo was a complainer. Logan hated his life. These are too basic a sentence (It screams NEWBIE to an editor) and would take too many words just to say all that this one sentence says about both brothers.  One, to keep Arlo from complaining about hearing Drakker’s more adventurous sex romps.

Below you’ll see more of the showing words I used to SHOW EMOTION and deep POV in the characters. PLEASE NOTICE – Their dialogue is more than Dialogue – I use dialogue to SHOW not only what they’re feeling, but the dynamics of the relationship between the characters. So, don’t fill your story with useless chit-chat, make the dialogue work for you in showing and telling your tale. By going to all this work you’ll give your readers a fuller story that will earn you 5 star reviews and get you on the bestsellers list.

This scene is seen from Logan’s POV. and be sure to notice – I have emotional description and action description throughout this exchange. Both types of description SHOWS a picture to the reader (even when it’s TELLING).

Arlo sat in the viewing room wearing a disgruntled expression, his arms crossed over his chest. His brother was young and still filled with piss and vinegar from time to time when stupidity of youth overruled his common sense. “What the fuck is going on?” Arlo’s anger exploded all over him before he could even find a seat. “You said this was to be an interrogation.”
“It is.”
“Really?” His wide-eyed stare said he didn’t believe him. “Then why did you undress her? Does your new method of questioning involve some form of defilement?”
“Defile– If you’re insinuating what I think you are, I should slug you for the insulting remark.” He slumped into a chair, bewildered by his brother’s offensive comment. Arlo knew them. He knew better. “Why would you all of a sudden start thinking we’d use any form of violence to interrogate a woman?”
“The answer to that stupid question stands there for itself, don’t you think?” Arlo glared through the mirror toward Fay’s chained and nearly naked form.
Logan’s glance followed. He could see where a stranger might conclude that, but not his own brother. He knew their strong beliefs against violence on women and children. “Arlo, things aren’t always what they appear to be. At Twenty-three, you’re old enough to know that.”
“Then stop talking to me like I’m a child or some moron.” He pounded his thumb into his own chest. “You’re not my fucking father!”
All the heat drained from Logan’s face, replaced with a cold, silent rage. He narrowed his eyes into icy slits at the affront. His words echoed Arlo’s but were laced with righteousness. “Not my fucking father?” Logan ground his teeth together so hard they hurt, but it gave him a moment to think before he spoke. “You idolized your blood father. Yet, you dishonor his soul with a reference like fucking, and you insult Drakker and me with your insinuations of abuse and torture?”
“Stop it! You’re twisting the meaning of everything I say so you can avoid answering my questions, and you’re doing it on purpose.”
“No, I’m not. I’m trying to understand what’s going on in your head. What makes you so virtuous you feel you have the right to judge others and hurt those who love you?” He jutted forward in his chair but kept himself from getting up; afraid he’d knock some sense into Arlo. “We’ve never used any form of pain to interrogate a woman. Why would we start now? What in the hell is going on with you?”

In my coming book, I will go into more details on the SECRETS used by published authors. Until then, go look at your work and see where you can SHOW more emotion and Tell (through dialogue or actions) more revealing details in your novel. Remember, every word must WORK your plot forward – if it doesn’t – it CANNOT stay. As an author you have a limited word count – so every word has to show or tell the reader something.

And PLEASE – Don’t spend two paragraphs talking about the characters Donald duck PJ and her pink Bunny slippers if those two items play no further part in the story – the only time you talk about the clothing is to stir an emotion in the character who’s looking at the clothing or a piece of the clothing you’re spotlight for the reader ends up being the clue to finding the murdered victim or their murderer.

EX: In the fourth book Intimate Betrayal of the Psychic Menage Series I wrote:

Sori watched the sexy sway of her ample hips in the tight black skirt she wore as she slowly sauntered toward him, closing the remaining distance between them.

Because, just a few paragraphs later I say: 

…he bragged before dragging his attention from Kindise’s stunned expression to stare at the sled. Casting a scan back to her, he dropped his gaze from the top of her head down to her toes then shot another look at the carriage. No wonder she looked so stupefied. Dressed as she was the woman would need help just to make the first step. 

As the reader discovers her clothing forces him to pick her up into his arms…the tight skirt makes that “special” contact where I SHOW the attraction between them.

SHOW AND TELL!  Now you know where!

Hugs and kisses – PS If you enjoyed this article and would like me to write more like this, please let me know by commenting (even if it’s just a happy face), so I know you want more. Remember – if you enjoyed it so might your friends. So please remember to share this with them.

#HoustonHavens author secrets









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Featured Author: Lindsay McKenna – Wind River Rancher #asmsg



By Lindsay McKenna


Wind River Rancher, Book 2, Wind River Valley series, is an emotional story that will suck every reader in. I’m known for gritty, visceral and emotional writing, and this book is no exception. It just happened to catch the eye of Publisher’s Weekly and it received a ‘starred’ review (like winning an Oscar) on 12.3.16.

This series I’m writing is about military vets returning home from combat from all over the world, mostly focused on the Middle East. Having been in the US Navy during the Vietnam War era (I served stateside as a weather forecaster at USNAS Moffett Field (now known as Silicon Valley) near San Francisco, California.

Book 1, Wind River Wrangler, the hero is an ex-Army Special Forces operator, Roan Taggart. He has left the Army with PTSD, no longer able to function at that high level any longer in black ops duties. He gets a job as a wrangler at the Wind River Ranch, where it’s quieter, it’s out in Nature and he is slowly healing from his internal PTSD wounds. Only, as life usually slaps us in the face, one way or another, he’s thrown back into a threat/life-and-death situation with Shiloh Gallagher, a writer from New York City. She’s escaped to the ranch to hide from a stalker who has torn her life apart. Figuring if she lives in Wyoming to write, her stalker won’t find her and she can breath once more, not look over her shoulder 24/7/365. Roan’s peaceful, back water life explodes when the stalker locates Shiloh. Once again, he’s thrust back into a combat situation. And for Shiloh, the nightmare begins anew when she thought she’d found safety at the ranch.

Book 2, Wind River Rancher, the hero is an ex-Marine Corps captain who commanded a company of Marines over in Afghanistan for years. The deployments, the combat, eventually took a toll on him, too. Reese Lockhart was a twenty-year man, his only dream was to become a Marine officer and protect his people, guide them and support them. Only the Afghanistan war gradually wore him down and sucked the life out of him, as it did so many others. He was given an honorable medical discharge, against his wishes. His whole life-dream has been shattered. He’s fractured internally by the PTSD, and you will meet him two years later as his story unfolds. He’s degraded to being like so many other vets we see on the streets of every city in the USA: shamed, hopeless, depressed and he cannot hold a job. In this book, I took “the gloves off,” as we say, and delved into the hero’s state of mind, his distorted emotions, his thinking he was a failure in every possible way.

The opening to Chapter 1 of Wind River Rancher by Lindsay McKenna

Reese Lockhart’s stomach was tight with hunger as he

stood at the outskirts of a small Wyoming town called

Wind River. The sign indicated a population of two thousand.

He’d gone a month without decent food. Six inches

of snow stood on the sides of the road where he’d walked

the last ten miles on 89A north. It headed toward Jackson

Hole, where he was hoping to find work.

The town, for a Monday afternoon, was pretty slow. A

couple of pickup trucks came and went, a few people

walked along the sidewalks on either side of the highway

that ran through the center of town. He halted outside

Becker’s Hay and Feed Store, an aged redbrick building

standing two stories high. The red tin roof was steep and

sunlight reflected off it, making Reese squint. Bright lights

now hurt his eyes.

Taking a deep breath, feeling the fear of rejection once

again, he pushed open the door to the store. Would he get

yelled at by the owner? Told to get out? It was early May

and snow had fallen the night before. The sleepy town of

Wind River still had slush on its streets midday.

The place was quiet, smelled of leather, and he saw a

man in his sixties, tall, lean, and with silver hair,

behind the counter. He was sitting on a wooden stool that

was probably the same age as he was, an ancient-looking

calculator in his work-worn hands as he methodically

punched the buttons.

Girding himself, ignoring the fact he hadn’t eaten in two

days, Reese’s gaze automatically swung around the huge

establishment. A hay and feed store was something he was

familiar with. Maybe the owner wanted some part-time

help. He needed to make enough money to buy a decent


Shoving away the shame he felt over his situation, he

saw the man lift his head, wire-rim spectacles halfway

down his large nose, his blue eyes squinting at Reese as he

approached the long wooden counter.

Howdy, stranger. Can I help you?” the man asked.

Maybe,” Reese said. “I’m looking for work. I saw you

have several big barns out back, and a granary. Do you have

any openings?” Automatically, Reese tensed. He knew he

looked rough with a month’s worth of beard on his face,

and his clothes were dirty and shabby. At one time, he’d

been a Marine Corps captain commanding a company of

120 Marines. And he’d been damn good at it until—

I’m Charlie Becker, the owner,” the man said, shifting

and thrusting his hand across the desk toward him.

Welcome to Wind River. Who might you be?”

Reese Lockhart,” he said, and he gripped the man’s

strong hand. He liked Charlie’s large, watery eyes because

he saw kindness in them. Reese was very good at assessing

people. He’d kept his Marines safe and helped them through

their professional and personal ups and downs over the

years he commanded Mike Company in Afghanistan. Charlie

was close to six feet tall, lean like a rail, and wore a

white cowboy shirt and blue jeans. Reese sensed this older

gentleman wouldn’t throw him out of here with a curse—

or even worse, call law enforcement and accuse him of


The last place where he’d tried to find some work, they’d

called him a druggie and told him to get the hell out; he

smelled. While walking the last ten miles to Wind River,

Reese had stopped when he discovered a stream on the flat,

snow-covered land, and tried to clean up the best he could.

The temperature was near freezing as he’d gone into the

bushes, away from the busy highway, and stripped to his

waist. He’d taken handfuls of snow and scrubbed his body,

shivering, but hell, that was a small price to pay to try to not

smell so bad. He hadn’t had a real shower in a month,


You a vet, by any chance?” Charlie asked, his eyes

narrowing speculatively upon Reese.

Yes, sir. Marine Corps.” He said it with pride.


Amazon – https://www.amazon.com/Wind-River-Rancher-Lindsay-McKenna/dp/1420141767/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1478800984&sr=8-1&keywords=Wind+River+Rancher

Kobo.com – https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/wind-river-rancher

BN.com – http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/wind-river-rancher-lindsay-mckenna/1123624029?ean=9781420141764

Apple/iBooks – https://linkmaker.itunes.apple.com/en-us/details/1099652774?country=us&mediaType=books&term=Wind+River+Rancher+by+Lindsay+McKenna

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Horrifying Dangerous Black-Eyed Children #ASMSG #MFRWauthor

Horrifying Dangerous Black-Eyed Children #ASMSG #MFRWauthor @houstonhavens

It’s three in the morning and there’s an insistent knocking on your door. What do you do when you see there are two young black-eyed children on your porch?

The Indigo kids: who are they and what do they want? Why do they create such dread in us? They cause even the bravest of men FEAR and can bring the strongest man to tears in overwhelming TERROR.

Since 1998 Worldwide reports of young children, between the ages of five to eighteen, dressed in non-descriptive baggy clothes (most wearing hoodies) making long dreadful repeated knocking on your door after dark.

Despite your cat streaking across the room to hide in the closet and your dog suddenly trembling at the knocks, and an unexplainable foreboding that consumes you, you feel compelled to open the door. You find one or two children standing very still with their heads down as if looking at their feet.

You asks if they’re alright.

One of them speaks to you. Your gut twists when he speaks in a robotic monotone. Your gut screams something isn’t right. The strange child’s voice is that of a confident adult and he’s requesting YOU to let them into your house. The urge to slam the door is overwhelming, but the logic side of your brain is telling you to help the children. As if reading your thoughts, the child plays on your sympathy. Telling you they’re lost and are being followed.

“Let us into your home,” the child says ending his statement by using YOUR NAME and all you want to do is run in fear. You don’t know these children. You tremble and wonder how he knew your name. The kid tells you they need to use your bathroom, or that it’s cold out (even if it’s a hot August night in Florida) and will you let them into your home to get warm. “Let us in,” he repeats insistently like a rehearsed or programmed mantra. Your chest now aches from the pounding terror in your heart.

Sometimes the children will say to let them in so they can rest or use your phone to call someone to come get them. They insist they won’t take long or it’ll only take a moment. That word moment sounds like a threat…meaning they won’t take them long to–KILL YOU.

Again, at your frozen response the child says they want to come into your home, “…just to READ.” That request alone is so off the wall panic floods every bone in your body to flee. Their repeated reassurance that they ‘won’t be long’ or that they ‘won’t hurt you’ only confirms that you need to slam the door, or run.

These children are dangerous.

If you’re in your car, when they approach, they will ask you to let them in so YOU can take them home, giving you an excuse that they forgot their money or that they’re late and need your help.

Horrifying Dangerous Black-Eyed Children #ASMSG #MFRWauthor @houstonhavensIn either case when you refuse, it is then and only then when one or both will lift their heads and stare at you. That’s when your fear turns into pure panic. That’s when you notice they have perfectly flawless or artificial skin. It looks pale and bloodless. The color has a bluish or olive-green tone. And then, as if suddenly released from a trance you notice they have SOLID black or white eyes.

The alarm in you is so strong…you want to slam the door or drive off BUT YOU CAN’T.  Your TERROR only grows as they keep repeating their request to come in or be let in. At your first refusal to their request the INDIGO black-eyed children become more determined. They will repeat their request in a firmer tone (like a scolding parent) ASKING PERMISSION FROM YOU TO LET THEM COME IN!

If you refuse or remain silent out of fear, they will smile. That smile will chill your blood. It’s a smile that says they know the fear they’re creating in you. They know their power. Some say the smile is like they know something and the only way you’ll know what they know is if you grant their request…and let them in. But your body warns you’re not going to like what that threatening smile hides….it’s like the smile of a murderer.

If you don’t slam the door that very minute and manage to spit out a question, these black-eyed kids don’t answer it or their reply is evasive. Such as, if you manage to say “It’s late. Your parents must be worried about you. You should go home.” They will reply, “Invite us in for a short time.”

And all you feel is PANIC when they keep repeating “Just let us in…we can’t come in until you let us. We won’t hurt you. Let us in. We don’t have a gun.” Meaning they don’t need a gun to do whatever they want to do to you once you AGREE to let them in?

At this point, you slam the door when your refusal to let them in turns their vicious evil grins into expressions of rage! As your heart nearly pounds out of your chest, leaning your back against the door like a bar to keep them out, you hear a horrendous scream like a Bobcat that will chill you to the bone.

Some will hear the black-eyed kid’s voice come through the door demanding you let them in. Others will see the black-eyed kids peeking in the windows. If you’re lucky, when you do find the nerve to look out – they’re gone.

But don’t rest easy – I’ve heard those who are visited by these black-eyed kids will usually be visited by them again.

The terror is real. You hear it in the voices of those who talk about their experiences. I have to wonder –


PS If you enjoyed this article and would like me to write more like this, please let me know by commenting (even if it’s just a happy face), so I know you want more. Remember – if you enjoyed it your friends might too. So please remember to share this with them.

Photos courtesy of Depositphotos. Photographer Bestphotostudio

Horrifying Dangerous Black-Eyed Children #ASMSG #MFRWauthor @houstonhavens

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Houston Havens at AuthorsXP STEAMY Giveaway Jan 3-9

Win up to 35+ Steamy Romances!

(2) Grand Prize “Gift Baskets” of ALL eBooks!
(35) Winners of Individual eBooks (randomly selected titles)

Houston Havens at AuthorsXP with Sinful Surrender

Win up to 35+ Steamy Romances!

(2) Grand Prize “Gift Baskets” of ALL eBooks!
(35) Winners of Individual eBooks (randomly selected titles)

#HoustonHavens @AuthorsXP with #SinfulSurrender

Sinful Surrender Mini Blurb

Top psychic spy Fay Avalon is on the run from her post-catastrophic dystopian government, searching for the truth. She escapes only to land in the arms of the enemy. Once Logan and his brothers discover who she is, will they make her their wife or execute her as a spy?

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How an International Bestselling author, Houston Havens finds her story-lines. #ASMSG

Houston havens - story-linesStory-lines: My idea for the Psychic Menage Series (erotic romance – not erotica) was a spin off from the original book I wrote (straight romance) A lover’s Paradox (To be published) when I stumbled across these photos.

I was amazed when I saw these pictures. But as an author I had to wonder why we were never taught anything about these beings in school. So I had to start asking the four W’s – Who, what, where and why…in answering these questions, my ‘creative’ mind started forming a plot – a devious one. One that boils down to keeping the power and technology they uncovered all to themselves, and a cataclysmic history that will repeat itself every 3657 years.

What is our government hiding from us?  

I was shocked when I read the first evidence of Giant humans (a foot print) was found back in 1910! IN AMERICA!

Another article showed one of these giant foot prints discover right next to a dinosaur’s foot print. Actually the article said they were walking next to each other along the Paluxy River bed in Texas! Now, will someone please tell me – Why would the government keep this curious part of our history a secret?

As you can see from this skeleton above and the ones below –

these human’s were not rare or just an oddities or an occasional deformed human. They’re not Cro-magnon men or Neanderthals either! These are perfectly formed very normal healthy humans; just giant in size! Way too many of them have been found to deny them!

#HoustonHavens #Giants are real

There were intelligent civilizations of them, across the world! And our governments know this…what else do they know that they’re keeping from us? Technology? Could these Giant beings have been the ones to build the pyramids? They walked with the dinosaurs…who knows, they may have walked here on this planet before the dinosaurs….before US.

So, how did we (Humans) get here on this planet? It is said – “GOD” created man in his own image. Where these GIANT beings (who look just like us) our creator? Did we call them GOD? It makes this author’s mind spin with what ifs.

Yet, Still I have to wonder — Why? Why hasn’t our governments done more research into this? Or have they? Did they find a technology they don’t want to share with us…or perhaps they know something about these giants they don’t want us to know…like where and how they went and when they’ll RETURN. Are the giants friendly or something we should be worried about and prepared for? Are the giants still here? Are they in hiding? Could our government(S) really be run (behind the scenes) by these giants? Are the “Chosen ones/Elite humans (under mind control) just playing out their given rolls (infront of the rest of us “commoners”)?

I read reports that the Queen of England and Hillary Clinton both publicly stated to the press that “I’m not human” at the time I wasn’t sure what they meant by their absurb statements.

Why haven’t our history books been rewritten to tell our true history? What is it they know that they fear to tell us…will this knowledge forever change us and what we believe? Do they fear the truth will upset the religions, sciences, and governments of today (that they’ve set up for us to believe in)? What is it that worries them so, that they seek to hide it from the rest of us? POWER?

It is reported that this race of giant humans were around 10 to 12 feet tall, some growing as large as 25 feet in height. The average giant weighting about 500 to 600 pounds and the taller ones close to 1000 pounds…I saw a video of a Mexican woman screaming in terror for her mother to look out the window (that she was taping from) – on the hill were several men (standing) looking down at her…she was curious until fear took over when one of the men (who you think is standing) stood up and he towered over the humans. Before the tape died – the woman had panned out the view and there were sereral Giant beings walking with the humans on the hill….so they’ve already returned or they never left. Which leads my writer’s mind and research to think about and investigate all the finger pointing of the Denver Airport (Underground entry) and other reports about hundreds of underground cities we tax payers aren’t ever going to see.

THESE GIANTS ARE REAL, evidence of their tools have been found. Our archeologists have found super large axes, chisels, knives and many other tools have been documented. There was a hammer found that looks very much like a wooden handled hammer of today, BUT this hammer and these other tools are so heavy – only a men of ten to twelve feet tall could pick it up.

These pictures should make you wonder about everything we’ve been told, when it comes to our history and myths. It sure made me think…and create an intriguing plot for my book and series. #HoustonHavens #Giants are real

Awhile back I had a blog about old tales and myths of a race of beings called Faeries. Which led me to ask – Are we (humans) the Fae beings to the Giants?

As an author, it makes you wonder…perhaps those myths are based in something that was  once very real. All the books we have today on faeries are so detailed about every aspect of a fae’s life…not even the best writers could create such a detailed reality for just a myth of beings.

So, again I have to ask…Now that we know for a fact that giant beings really did walk our planet and lived in a land called “the land of the giants” and the many tales of the fae, who live in a wonderful land called Avalon? In myth’s it was said the faeries always talked about the land of the giants…but now that we know the giants are real, it’s a little odd we’d write about fictional faeries talking about real giants, isn’t it? Doesn’t it stand to reason that just maybe the myth about faeries and the land of Avalon (there is a settlement by that name on Santa Catalina Island off California) might be real?

Think about this: Aborigines have always claimed there were Giants who lived on their land before them. Why would they lie? There’s nothing to gain from it. Evidence now proves they spoke the truth.

Some of what I’ve read says human’s our size lived then as well, which is not what we’ve been told in our history books. Supposedly we small human’s walked with the giant humans. It is speculated that there were more of us smaller beings and we warred with the giants and won….hence the story of David and Goliath??? It is suggested the giants couldn’t fight off so many of us and succumbed to our war like ways.

So as a scifi author my mind scurries with questions. I have to wonder … if our governments would hide such a simple thing as this…what else do they hide from us? ARE UFO’S REAL? What about all those citizens of “Normal healthy minds” like cops, lawyers, actors, and writers, children and people of all walks of life who have claimed to have seen a UFO or even had a third encounter? Maybe they aren’t “Nuts” as they’re always made out to seem, but victims of a government cover up? Is our government making sure to put out “Crazy” sounding stories and actually paying people to claim they saw a UFO just so they can make the real seer’s of UFO’s seem kooky? Perhaps we need to reassess our opinions of these “Victims” of a government cover up.

If we’re being lied to about our history, and it appears as if we have been, why not lie to us about stranger things happening in the now, like UFO’s or that new bright star in the SW evening sky…is it planet X/Nibiru returning on it’s natural cycle, every 3,657 years that brings world wide caticlysium to us…remember the great flood?

Is there truth to the myth that the Native American Indian’s have always claimed was true…that they were brought here by the “Star People”…. UFO?

I have to wonder.

So, when you’re searching for a good story line…just look around you…it’s all there for the picking…and it will keep your writer’s mind wondering.

Hugs and Kisses

intimate betrayal fantasy, romance author, bestelling, international

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Hollywood’s Newest Amazing Film Maker #ASMSG #Movie

Welcome everyone!

I have a very special guest here today –

#HoustonHavens interview with Jillian Bullock

She’s an amazing woman and her name is Jillian Bullock – it’s a name you’ll never forget after reading this post, because this fabulous woman is not only a successful businesswoman, but a woman who will inspire and motivate you to find your dreams and make them happen.

Jillian’s personal story is about courage, self-motivation, and inner strengths. It didn’t matter what life handed her, she knew she was someone important in this hard world and she wanted to leave her mark for those who followed her. Against all the odds, she did and is still doing just that – leaving her mark on each and every one of us with her words and films.

Welcome Jillian! Before we get into how I met you, can you tell us a little about your life (I’ve found your history awe inspiring) and how you got to where you are today?

Jillian: I grew up as an African-American girl with my mother, siblings and my white stepfather, who was a member of the Philadelphia Italian Mafia. Around age fifteen, my stepfather died. My mother got married to another guy, an abusive man. Since I was a black belt in Tae Kwon Do around this time, one day my new stepfather was beating on my mother and I jumped in. I broke the guy’s nose. Instead of my mother being grateful I came to her aid, she kicked me out of the house because I hurt her husband. We had just moved to Florida and I didn’t know anyone. I was alone as a teenager, homeless on the streets of Orlando. To survive, I eventually got involved with drugs and prostitution. After I found out I was pregnant at sixteen years old, I found a way to get off the streets and get clean from drugs. Through lots of blood, sweat and tears, I had to find my fighting spirit in order to pull myself up by my bootstraps and forge ahead to finish high school while caring for my son, and then moving on to college. I even earned an internship at the “Wall Street Journal” newspaper, and eventually became a full fledge reporter. After college, I got an internship on the set of Spike Lee’s movie “Malcolm X.” A few years later, I started my own entertainment/film production company.

You have amazing strength. I’ve heard your motto is: ‘Your past doesn’t dictate what your future will be’  – is this mantra what gets you through the tough times in life?

Jillian: I look back over my life and all I’ve gone through and I realize that I actually shouldn’t be alive today. The stuff I endured when I was homeless was horrific and I did so many things, bad things, just to survive. A therapist told me I was suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder as a result of being raped when I was ten and what I went through living on the streets. My son, Clinton, who was born to a crack addicted, prostitute mother, shouldn’t be where he is today. He’s working on his Ph.D. and speaks five languages. Clinton has never been in trouble with the law and he’s never used illegal drugs. By society’s standards both of us should be on welfare, in prison, involved in criminal activity, or dead. So, the way a person starts out in life, or even if that person hits rock bottom at some point in their life, that doesn’t mean that’s the fate of that person. It doesn’t dictate that person’s future.

You must be very proud of him, and yourself – you showed him anything can be overcome. So, what was the most important decision you’ve made in your life up to this point?

Jillian: Getting off of drugs. If I hadn’t I wouldn’t be the success I am today. I wouldn’t have been a good mother to my three children. I wouldn’t be able to empower other people and share my story of triumph.

You’re also a fitness and health expert and an author as well as a filmmaker and empowerment speaker. Where do you find the time to do it all? Is there a secret you can share with us authors about how to getting more done in our 16 hour days?

Jillian: When do I find time to do it all? – I don’t sleep. LOL. No, I have a set plan for each day, what I’m going to work on, so I can be organized. I have this plan in my head, then I write it down the night before. This way I’m sure about what I’m supposed to be doing each day. I get up at 4 a.m.  and write for two hours, then I do other business stuff, especially if I’m working on a movie. I train an hour to two hours, then I do more business stuff, like working on contacting people about doing speaking engagements. I work non-stop throughout the day, but I know this is the path that is needed in order to build my multi-million dollar business. I’m in bed by 10:30 p.m.

This sounds like my life…glad to know I’m not the only one doing 16 hour days 7 days a week. Okay, now you know I’m going to ask – how did you go from being a fitness and health expert to being an empowerment speaker to author and then a filmmaker, and why?

Jillian: In 2016, I didn’t put much time into my Fighting Spirit Warriors: Fitness for Self-Defense program because I was filming a movie for a year. 

But in January 2017, I started training to get back into ‘fighting shape,’ because people have been contacting me, wanting to book me for my program, which teaches women how to be fit to fight to help reduce their chances of becoming a victim of rape, sexual assault or domestic violence. 

So, I am still a fitness and health expert.






As an empowerment speaker, I started that a few years ago when my memoir,




HERE I STAND, was published and I was asked to speak at various events. My love of film making started when I was in college and I took filmmaking classes at La Salle University. I do it all, because once again, it’s what is needed to build my empire.



For those who are curious as to how I met Jillian, we share a mutual friend, the handsome John Quinlan, who is starring in her “coming soon” film called A Sense of Purpose: 

Fighting For Our Lives. Starring Tamara Woods as Sgt. Diane Torres and John Quinlan who plays Captain Jake Nixon. The conflict in this film, which deals with PTSD and military sexual assault, is a very real problem today with our Vets…As the tagline on the posters of the film says – For Some Veterans The Real War Begins When They Return Home.

Are you a vet?

Jillian: Yes, Army

Then allow me to say…thank you for what you did for me, for Americans. Without those who willingly put on that uniform (risk their lives) American wouldn’t be what it is. I’m grateful to all Vets.

How did you come to pick this title?

Jillian: Many veterans who suffer with post-traumatic stress disorder, come home and feel like they don’t have a purpose anymore. Depending upon how long they served in the Armed Forces, their identity is tied to being a military man or woman. If they’ve seen combat, the connection with their military brothers and sisters is even greater. To come home and nobody around them understands what they’ve been through, so many feel lost. So the first part of the title – A Sense of Purpose – addresses how they feel. The second part – Fighting For Our Lives – deals with PTSD. Twenty-two veterans commit suicide each day. Thousands of veterans fight an internal fight to live a healthy, happy and productive life. Too many lose that fight. And for those who are winning, who are thriving, it is a struggle to do so each day. In a sense, PTSD never leaves, never goes away, people just learn how to cope.

What was it about this script that drove you to produce it?

Jillian: I was watching “Sports w/Bryan Gumbel” when they featured a segment about military veterans who used mixed martial arts as a way to help them cope with post-traumatic stress disorder. As someone who trains in MMA I thought that would be the perfect story for me to tell. It took me two years to conduct interviews with veterans, therapists, and do extensive research on PTSD. As I did research, I discovered that many veterans who committed suicide had been sexually assaulted or raped while they served. I was shocked by the number of rapes that occur daily on military bases. To shed more light on this topic, I changed gears and re-wrote my script to focus on PTSD and military sexual trauma.

What are your hopes for this movie?

Jillian: Since we wrapped the movie in December 2016, it’s all about promotion to create buzz and entering it into film festivals in order to get a distribution deal.

What is the deeper message you hope people will get from this film?

Jillian: I hope the movie will be impactful, that it will entertain people, but also enlighten them about what our military men and women go through on a daily basis and especially when they come home. Far too many people have no clue what post-traumatic stress disorder is and how it affects not only veterans, but their family, friends, children, spouses, and even society as a whole. Lawmakers and politicians need to see the movie to understand why it’s so important to stop turning a blind eye to this problem that plagues the United States military. I am not against the military, let me make that clear, but it is imperative to bring this movie to the forefront in order for change to happen.

I agree with that. So when is its release date?

Jillian: No release date until I get a distribution deal. However, we will be having a private screening of the movie in June 2017 in Philadelphia. Cast, crew, sponsors, people who donated a certain amount of money, local and national media, and local politicians will be in attendance.

Oh that’ll be exciting! What is your next project? Tell us about it?

Jillian: The next project is entitled “Listen To What The Dead Are Saying.” It’s an action/thriller. Logline – A Philadelphia Crime Scene Investigator, who is working on a high profile murder case, must do her own investigation when she uncovers evidence that links her current case to the accidental death of her husband.

Oh that sounds intriguing! Good luck on that.

Now for those still seeking a path to change…what are your parting words for them to hold on to and possibly use to make the changes in their lives that they desire?

Jillian: The other quote I tell people at speeches –  “When Life Hits You Hard, You Have a Choice, Either Lie Down and Quit or Stand Up and Fight!”

The truth is, the choice is on each person. No matter how low, how bad, life seems, it doesn’t have to remain that way. How bad do you want it? Once you figure out that answer, you’ll do the hard work necessary to transform. Stand up, brush yourself off, and fight.

Jillian, I think you’re an amazing woman and I can’t thank you enough for coming and sharing this time with us. I hope you’ll come back for a chat when your next film is to be released. And here is where you can find Jillian.








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To all my family, friends, and readers – Happy Holidays!

Happy Holiday Season #HoustonHavensTo me this time of year is for sharing. Not necessarily sharing gifts but love.

Love of family, friends and even to those I haven’t met, like some of my readers who tell me how much I touched them with my novels…I hope you know you touch me back with your words (reviews or comments at my blog or on FB and twitter). I hear the joy behind what you say and it touches me.

I’m grateful you’ve allowed me to entertain you with my stories and at times reach your heart. This means the world to me.

Thank you for hanging in with me between books and always being ready with a kind or funny comment that makes me smile. You’re important to me…and I feel blessed because you’re in my life.

Have a wonderful holiday season and a very happy new year…May 2017 be the best for all of us!

Hugs and kisses

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Book Tour and #Giveaway – Surrender by @erzabetbishop #asmsg


Down and Dirty
Erzabet Bishop

Genre: BDSM Romance

Publisher: All Romance eBooks
Date of Publication: 12/1/2016

ISBN: 978-1-945193-81-1

Word Count: 20000

Cover Artist: Erin Dameron Hill

blurbA new beginning…

Fleeing from a relationship gone horribly wrong, Jocelyn Frazier makes the choice to start a new life. If only her car had gotten the memo. Stranded in the parking lot of what seemed to be a night club, she walks into a world she never knew existed. A new job with room and board are the answer to her prayers, but can she really outrun the ghosts of her past or will they come back to claim her?

Broken trust…

Master Caine has just come out of a five-year Master/sub arrangement after a bitter breakup. He spies the new barmaid instantly, dismissing her as just another pretty face. When circumstances put them in close proximity, his resolve to stay at a distance is put to the test. He finds himself enamored by the curvaceous blonde. Soon the teacher becomes the student and he learns that the gift of trust might just be the greatest surrender of all.

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Master Caine observed with interest the new waitress that worked with Roxy at the bar. She was shy and not at all used to life in the club. Her black corset and short micro skirt were tasteful. He would give Roxy that. The girl’s expressions as she took in some of the costumes of the patrons were comical.

A couple had come through, the leather clad Domme leading a man dressed in nothing more than a dog collar and a strategically placed genital cage, and he thought she was going to choke on her own tongue. From time to time on his rounds as dungeon monitor, Caine caught her observing the patrons in the spanking room, a curious look on her face as if she were trying to comprehend why a person would do such a thing.

“She’s delightful,” Gage stated, noting the direction his attention traveled. “The people love her and she’s gotten more tips than all the other servers combined.” The hum of the club had picked up over the last couple of nights and he’d been relieved at the influx of people.

Caine shrugged. “Another pretty face.” She seemed like any typical Texas girl. Blond hair, curves that filled out her jeans nicely, and a pleasant disposition that defied logic. But in the corset and microskirt—his cock stood up and took notice.

“True.” Gage eyed his friend askance.

“Did her background check come back okay?”

“It did. She’ll be here about a week, from what Linnet said.”

Gage paused, then added, “She’s been abused.”

“How do you know?” But he’d seen the telltale bruising on her face. It wasn’t hard to guess what had happened. No doubt she was on the run from an ex. All the more reason to steer clear.

So why did he continually seek her out every time he found himself in the main room of the club? It had been three days and each evening he found himself staring at her like a proverbial lost puppy.

“Linnet told me. Be careful, Hoss.”

“What do you mean be careful?”

“I know that look.”

“I have no intention,” he started to say, and then realized it was a lie. He’d been relieved when he caught her watching his performance during the public exhibition tonight and wondered what her ass would look like stretched across his bench, the rosy pink kiss of his paddle coloring her cheeks.

“I don’t know that she…”

“You wouldn’t know unless you ask. Just keep in mind she’ll be heading to Houston for that modeling audition as soon as she can get enough money to get her car fixed.”

“She’s a model?” His cock hardened at the thought. He was definitely attracted to her. There was no doubt. And she was a polar opposite of Riley.

“Just be careful, she’s fragile.”

“I’m not looking.”

“I didn’t say you were, but if you do don’t hurt her. She’s been through enough.”


The corset was tight around her ribs and she took a deep breath, trying to reign in the excitement of the night. Her tables had been more than generous and, during a lull, she caught sight of something happening in the stage area.

The first performance had been none other than Master Caine and a volunteer from the audience. He had paddled the squirming sub to a rosy pink puddle of feminine appreciation.

Her first reaction completely surprised her and she almost dropped a tray of drinks as her heels wobbled. She wanted to be that woman.


The more she read his books in the gift shop, the more she wanted to be a part of his world.

“Do you want to watch?”

She turned to find the tall Dom standing next to her. “What are they doing?” she asked.

“Her Dom is issuing a public punishment.”

“And she likes that?”

“Why don’t you come and find out?” His lips twisted upward into an inviting smile and she wanted more than anything to take him up on it.

Roxy ambled up and greeted them. “I think your shift is over for tonight, girlie girl. Why don’t you go exploring with Master Caine?”

“I don’t want to leave you. My tables…”

“Are just fine. Go. Enjoy.” She winked and gave her a light shove and, in trying to right her footing, Jocelyn found herself encased in Master Caine’s arms.

Her skin felt hot in the places he touched her and she tried to shake off the sensation, wondering if she had lost her mind.


Erzabet Bishop has had a love affair with books since she first started reading. Just recently, she discovered that writing naughty stories was even more fun. She lives with her husband, menagerie of dogs and a mountain of books she is sure will crush her one day in her sleep.

You can find Erzabet on Facebook, Pintrest, and Goodreads. Follow her updates on Twitter: @erzabetbishop and her erotica blog.

Website: http://erzabetwrites.wix.com/erzabetbishop

Facebook page: https://www.facebook.com/erzabetbishopauthor

Twitter: http://twitter.com/ErzabetBishop


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Book Tour and #Giveaway – Darkest Dreams by @SamCrescent #asmsg


image2Darkest Dreams
Down and Dirty
Sam Crescent

Genre: BDSM Contemporary

Publisher: All Romance eBooks

Date of Publication: 12/1/2016

ISBN: 978-1-945193-79-8

Word Count: 16000

Cover Artist: Erin Dameron Hill

blurbShe wants him, even for a moment. He wants her…for a lifetime.

At Darkest Dreams, a club for people with certain tastes, Avery watches the mysterious Master Dominic. She wants him, but there is no way she can have him. He’s so far out of her league, and he probably doesn’t even know her name.

Dominic warns everyone: stay away from Avery. She belongs to him, and him alone. The club’s other Doms, however, issue an ultimatum: take her now or lose her. So he offers her a relationship contract they can both enjoy.

Neither Avery nor Dominic want a relationship on paper. The chemistry between them is too strong. Can they survive the changes in their relationship? Or will Avery run away when the truth about Dominic comes out?

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“No one gets to train with Master Dominic. He’s like the king of Darkest Dreams. No one, and I mean no one will ever own him,” Ella said.
Avery Masters stared across the Darkest Dreams BDSM club to the man that captivated every single person within the room. She had been coming to this place for over a year, and couldn’t bring herself to do anything more than watch. For this club, prior to being accepted, she had to take a test. During the test she’d been so nervous, and after finishing it, she’d been graded submissive.
“All you do is watch when you could be with any other man here,” Ella said, drawing her attention back to her.
“It’s nothing. Honestly, I’m just, I don’t know, I don’t like the thought of anyone else touching me.” The club had plenty of Masters, she simply didn’t want any of them. All of the men were Dominant, and there were a few female Dommes as well.
Ella was her friend, who also happened to love the lifestyle. They got along really well, and tended to visit the club together.
“Why don’t you just ask him?” Ella asked.
“Ask who?”
“Please, sweetie, you drool over him every time we’re here.”
“He’s very good.”
Right now Master Dominic was showing a man how to use a whip. This was what she loved about Darkest Dreams. Everyone could learn, and there would be no judgement. She didn’t know the man he was teaching, but the woman currently secured to a spanking bench looked damn happy.
Licking her lips, Avery pressed her thighs together as another wave of arousal washed over her. What was it about Dominic that called to her? She didn’t understand it. Yes, he was a handsome guy, but there were plenty of handsome men out there who didn’t get her attention. He looked hot in a pair of leather pants, but then again, she’d never seen him naked.
“I’m going to head to the bathroom,” she said, needing a distraction. She was starting to feel like a stalker herself.
“If you see a handsome man, just go with it. I think it’s the only way you’re ever going to get over your addiction to Master Dom.”
“I’m not addicted.” She didn’t stick around to see what else her friend had to say. There was an attraction, and an addiction. Was it healthy? No, it wasn’t. She hadn’t been with a guy in a long time, even before she joined the club. Now she spent most of her time comparing all men to Dominic.
The bathrooms were clear, so she didn’t linger, nor did she stare at her reflection. All she would find was fault. Her face was too round, her hips too wide, her stomach too round. At a size fourteen, she had to be one of the biggest women at the club. The only women she’d seen with Dominic were the kind that were slender, like bone slender.
Pressing her washed and dried hands to her face, she whimpered. “Just get him out of your mind. Completely, totally, out of my mind.” This obsession was going to make her a lonely, miserable woman.
Still avoiding the mirrors, she made her way outside, coming against a sudden wall of human flesh.
“Be careful there, sweetness.”
His voice.
Heat filled her cheeks, and when she looked at him she cringed, immediately looking down. “I’m so sorry, Sir, Master, erm …” she couldn’t find the right words.
My first time talking to the man of my dreams, and I’m stuttering!
“You can look at me. The club has rules for certain people and couples. Not all of them need to be followed.”
She frowned, looking up at him. “What do you mean?”
“Couples who believe in a complete Dominance and submissive lifestyle choose to do so within the club as well. Newbies are a different matter.”
“I thought the whole head bowing was a sign of respect.”
“Yes, and no. You don’t bow your head for everyone, do you?”
“No.” That would be embarrassing. She worked in an office all day. Bowing her head would just make her stand out like a sore thumb.
“You’ve never been played with, Avery.”
“You know my name.”
He leaned in close so that his lips were against her ear and whispered. “There’s a lot I know about you.”


Sam Crescent has always had a love of fiction, through her teen years she would find friendship between the pages rather than in an actual person. By the time she turned sixteen she discovered mills and boon and never looked back. She loved the quick happily-ever-after read. A guarantee that no matter what happened the heroes and heroines would always find their soul mate. After college and starting a degree, one lonely bored night she searched the internet looking for a new author to read. On that night and for the years to come she discovered romantica and erotic writing.

Website: http://samcrescent.wordpress.com/

Facebook page: https://www.facebook.com/Sam-Crescent-395370360612256

Twitter: https://twitter.com/SamCrescent


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