​I was unsure whether I should release Wind Storm because having a new release seems somewhat shallow when measure against a global pandemic. Then I realized that all I have to offer is escapism, and if ever there was a time to escape reality, it’s now.
So, today I’m releasing Wind Storm at a special price 99¢. This price will remain in effect until Monday 27th April. You can also read Wind Storm Free through KindleUnlimited.

Available at
Amazon for 99¢
Read FREE with KindleUnlimited​​

Blurb:
​
A woman who fights to protect the vulnerable
A genius white hat hacker
A group of billionaires, intent on chaos
And an FBI agent trying to make sense of it all 
When Sinclair Quinn is jumped in a back alley, her assailants only want to know one thing, the whereabouts of Native American, Michael Papin, the man she’s been in love with since they were street kids together. 
Nine months ago, Michael was hit by a car while trying to prevent a group of billionaires, known as the Syndicate, from framing Sinclair’s brother. Now they are back, and they want him dead. When the Syndicate attacks his family, Michael will do anything to ensure their safety, including hiding out with Sinclair. 
Sinclair has devoted her life to rescuing stolen children and saving the victims of human trafficking. She knows who she is and is comfortable with the woman she’s become, although she’s never forgotten the man who broke her heart when she was eighteen. Going underground with Michael and his family is not part of her plan. She trusts him with her life, but can she trust him with her heart?

Excerpt:
​
Sinclair Quinn twisted her hips to the side, trying to absorb the punch with her pelvic bone instead of taking a blow to the stomach. She groaned, doubling over as pain ricocheted through her right hip and down her leg. It hurt, but it wasn’t debilitating. 
The initial hit to her face had stunned her and allowed the two men to drag her into a nearby alley. The smell of stale urine burned her nostrils. A chewing gum wrapper lay on the ground at her feet. Her heartbeat hard in her ears, and she gasped for breath. Blood dripped from her cut lip; big drops landed on the ground and splattered. She concentrated on them, using them to focus her thoughts and slow her mind. She had her collapsible baton in her jeans pocket. Don’t overthink. Create an opportunity to escape. 
“Tell us where the Indian is.” Her assailant grabbed her ponytail and yanked on it, pulling her up and forcing her head back so her throat was exposed. 
Michael? What did they want with him? 
The thugs had attacked her after she’d left the grocery store. Foolishly, she’d felt secure once she was home in Granite City in northwestern Montana. That was her first mistake. Her Glock 19 handgun was in the glove compartment of her car where it did her no good at all. Mistake number two. Her final error was not noticing she was being tailed. By the time she’d become aware of them following her, it was too late. 
The shorter of the two, a man who wore a cheap suit, stood behind her attacker. His hand rested on the pistol in his shoulder holster. “Tell her it’ll only get worse for her the longer this goes on. We need to know where she hid Papin.”
“She’s got ears. She can hear,” the larger one snapped. He had the broken nose and muscle-bound physique of a fighter. He let go of her hair and turned to his partner. “You should do some of the work instead of standing back there, yapping. I hit bone with that last punch and hurt my hand.”
Sinclair grabbed her telescopic baton and flicked it open. She whacked the big guy’s knee, throwing him off balance. Then she struck Cheap Suit’s hand so he couldn’t go for his weapon. 
Big Guy regained his equilibrium and pulled his arm back, ready to punch her. 
She took advantage of his wide stance and smashed his ribs. He doubled over. Cheap Suit backed up, holding his injured appendage to his chest, protecting it. 
She ran. Her groceries—eggs, flour, sugar, and milk—were scattered over the sidewalk at the entrance to the alley. She jumped over them. She’d just returned from a hellacious trip to Ukraine and had been looking forward to a couple of weeks downtime, starting with a day of baking. That wasn’t going to happen now. 

Not many people know this but I like to draw pencil sketches. An actual artist might describe my pictures as amateurish…if they were being kind. Occasionally, I draw subjects from my books. 
Okay, ‘subjects’ is too strong a word. I mean a building, flower, tree or any other article I’m picturing. I can’t draw people because I’m not that good. 
This picture is from Wind Storm. My character, Sinclair Quinn, has a she-shed.

​I thought it would be fun to give this sketch to one of my newsletter subscribers. Everyone who opened and read my March newsletter was automatically entered to win. 
And the winner was...
The amazing Debra, who lives near Atlanta and is waiting patiently with Sam and Momma Kitty (pictured below)
Your sketch is in the mail and will get there eventually.

If you would like the opportunity to win one of my sketches or get a free copy of The Wily Witness and The Wedding Deception you can sign up for my newsletter here

These are hard times. COVID 19 had meant the closing of many libraries and bookstores and I know many of you are home with nothing to do and feeling the loss of income
 
Here are some ideas that might help. If you don’t have an e-reader, and can’t afford one, Amazon has a free app that allows you to read books on your smartphone or tablet.

Another alternative is Overdrive.
I use this app in conjunction with my library membership. You can download ebooks and audiobooks from your local library onto your device. This service has always been free for me, and I highly recommend it.

It's Valentines Day, a time when we celebrate all things romantic. I thought it would be cool to do another free promotion so from today until the 16th February Sun Storm with be free at Amazon.

"Sun Storm is a fast-paced and exciting read that was impossible to put down." Readers' Favorite.
Hunted by a gunman and a corrupt police force... in a blizzard.

In Montana to prove her portable solar panel can solve the world's energy problems, naïve scientist, Dr. Marie Wilson must first fight to survive and then expose the powerful businessman intent on destroying her life's work.

Ex-special forces soldier, David Quinn is haunted by the horrors of combat, and yearns to be left alone with his beehives, but agrees to do one last job for his old mentor.

When the scariest man she's ever met becomes her savior, Marie discovers a heart of gold beats beneath his surly demeanor.

'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.
​
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
in hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there. 

The children were nestled all snug in their beds, while visions of sugar plums danced in their heads. And Mama in her 'kerchief, and I in my cap,
had just settled our brains for a long winter's nap. 

When out on the roof there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter. Away to the window I flew like a flash,
tore open the shutter, and threw up the sash. 

The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow gave the lustre of midday to objects below, when, what to my wondering eyes should appear, but a miniature sleigh and eight tiny reindeer. 

With a little old driver, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick.
More rapid than eagles, his coursers they came,
and he whistled and shouted and called them by name: 

"Now Dasher! Now Dancer! Now, Prancer and Vixen! On, Comet! On, Cupid!
On, Donner and Blitzen! 

To the top of the porch!
To the top of the wall!
Now dash away! Dash away! Dash away all!" 

As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly, when they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky so up to the house-top the coursers they flew,
with the sleigh full of toys, and St. Nicholas too. 

And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
the prancing and pawing of each little hoof.
As I drew in my head and was turning around, down the chimney St. Nicholas came with a bound. 

He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot, and his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot. A bundle of toys he had flung on his back,
and he looked like a peddler just opening his pack. 

His eyes--how they twinkled! His dimples, how merry! His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry! His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
and the beard on his chin was as white as the snow. The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth, 

and the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath. He had a broad face and a little round belly,
that shook when he laughed, like a bowl full of jelly. 

He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf, and I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself. A wink of his eye and a twist of his head
soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread. 

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work, and filled all the stockings, then turned with a jerk. And laying his finger aside of his nose,
and giving a nod, up the chimney he rose. 
​
He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle, And away they all flew like the down of a thistle. But I heard him exclaim, 'ere he drove out of sight, 
"Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night!" 

I’m very excited about this Black Friday giveaway. You can pick up a copy of Disturbance FREE anytime from 28th November until 2nd December.

This is a fantastic giveaway. They’re giving away a Kindle Fire 7 to one lucky winner each day of the sale! Browse the sale and play the Scavenger Hunt game for your chance to take a Fire home. 

​EVERY BOOK in our sale is either discounted or free for the four days of this event ONLY. You can score some awesome reads right now in our Black Friday Book Sale. Contemporary romance, historical romance, romantic suspense, erotic romance, mystery, NA/YA, science fiction, fantasy, They have it all! 

Look for Books from Your Favorite Authors!
Anna Durand • Bethany-Kris • Chloe Flowers • Christine Myers • DB McNicol • Debbie White • Diane Benefiel • Donna Schlachter • E.B. Black • Em Petrova • Erica Monroe • Heidi Vanlandingham • Jacki Delecki • Jacqueline Diamond • Jami Klein • Jamie K. Schmidt • Jana Richards • Jenna Barwin • Jerri Corgiat • Josie Riviera • Karen Michelle Nutt • Karina Kantas • Kerry Blaisdell • Kim Hornsby • Laine Watson • Laura Ashwood • Lia Davis • Lucy Lakestone • Margaret Tanner • Marlow Kelly • Megan Ryder • Melissa McClone • Michelle Dalton • Mimi Barbour • Nina Beaumont • Penelope Wylde • Quinn • Ravyn Wilde • Renee Carr • Rhondi Ann • Rose Pearson • Soraya Naomi • Stephanie Queen • Stormy Legend • Sydney Aaliyah Michelle • Theresa Beachman • Aileen Harkwood
​

​I want to share another powerful poem that speaks to me in a very personal way. Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night by Dylan Thomas, is a call to battle.
It conveys the sense that we shouldn’t give up and should be prepared to fight, even if we lose everything. I don’t know if that’s what Thomas intended because it’s a poem about death, specifically the death of his father.
Someone way more intellectually minded will probably have a much more highbrow opinion. Whatever Thomas’ intent, I connect with it and that’s enough for me to put in on my list as one of my favorites.

​Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day; 
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on that sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light. 

Do you have any favorite poems or books that inspire you? I’d love to hear about them. If I like them then I’ll share them on this blog :)

​Are you a member of Kindle Unlimited? Shop our book fair for a massive shelf’s worth of page-turning books to download for free in contemporary romance, paranormal romance, historical romance, mysteries and thrillers, fantasy and science fiction, women’s fiction, romantic suspense, and more.
Each day of the fair we’re giving away a $25 Amazon gift card or other prize!

Don't have a KU subscription? You can still shop our fair for binge-worthy books. Many books, including Sun Storm, are on sale. 
​Plus you can vote for your favorite authors and books in the fair for yet another chance to win!

As a reader I love this book fair because there are so many chances to win by doing what we love...reading books
​Good luck and I hope you enjoy it as much as I do.

Look for Books from Your Favorite Authors!
Alexa Aston • Alexia Adams • Allison Temple • Angela Christina Archer • Ariel Marie • Bernadette Rowley • Brooke Warren • Carrie Whitethorne • Catty Diva • Cherry Christensen • Clairissa SinClair • Crystal Dawn • DB McNicol • Donna R. Mercer • Eichin Chang-Lim • Eliza Watson • Elizabeth Rose • Ellen Mint • Em Petrova • Erin Cawood • G.K. Brady • Heidi Vanlandingham • Isabella Thorne • Jacqueline Diamond • Jade Waltz • Jami Denise • Jeanne St. James • Joanne Dannon • Judith Starkston • Karen D. Bradley • Kiara Cawood • Kristen Kelly • Leilani Love • Linda Nightingale • LM Preston • Lucy Lakestone • Margaret Tanner • Marlow Kelly • Marsha A. Moore • Melissa McClone • Miranda Jameson • ML Preston • Pepper Swan • Peyton Banks • Rhondi Ann • Rissa Blakeley • Rose Pearson • S.L. Sterling • Samantha Holt • Sandra Owens • Shaylin Gandhi • Sierra Kay • Soraya Naomi • Stephanie Queen • Suzanne Jenkins • Teddy Cat Hester • Theresa Hodge • Tracey Alvarez
​

Ray Bradbury said, "Poetry expands the senses and keeps them in prime condition."
I wish I could write poetry to find the perfect turn of phrase, which would evoke a deep and lasting emotion for my readers but unfortunately, I can't. But I can read and enjoy the work of others. With that in mind, I thought I would share a poem that speaks to me - Still I Rise by Maya Angelou. 
There is no doubt that it was written for African American women but I believe it speaks to any woman who feels beaten down by life. Ms. Angelou tells us we can overcome and rise above the hardships and pain.
I hope you enjoy this piece as much as I do.