So, I Read This Book Today

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Review: Paranormal Protection Agency Volume1 by Mina Carter (Edited)

Paranormal Protection Agency: Volume 2 - Mina CarterNote: Volume two gets its own review. It is a lot different than volume one!

OK, remember my review of Milly Taiden’s Federal Paranormal Unit series? I talked about how her books usually had good storylines to go along with the “bow chicka bow bow” and how much I enjoyed having a good story to read along with my dose of “down and dirty.”

Well, as much as I like stories about shifters working together for law and order and justice for all, and as much as I wanted this series to have a good story to go with aforementioned down and dirty . . . this didn’t do it for me. Of course, others think all the bedroom (and floor, and kitchen counter, and couch, etc.) calisthenics is just fine without a good story, and more power to them. But for me, without a good story it is simply a rather big disappointment.

All the stories in this two volume set are more along the lines of ‘erotica’ than ‘paranormal romance’ and none have a real story line at all. The business itself (the PPA) is simply a set piece, a flat painted background that never really does anything.

The only story I really could get a bite of was “Seduced by Santa a story I had read before. Candice Kane adores Christmas, and has moved away from her rich, self-centered family to work and live in the poorest part of town to help disadvantaged children. When her community center is trashed she is afraid her Christmas for the children is destroyed. And when she is attacked in an alleyway she is sure her life is over with as well. Enter an unrelenting Christmas-hating Santa Elf, and things get interesting. Can they work together to save Christmas for the children?

Overall, if you are a fan of erotica without all the whips and chains, check this out, but don’t expect much story with the stories.

Two’s A Couple, Three’s The Law – Eve Langlais

tOK, here is my big confession – I am a huge Eve Langlais fan. Sometimes you just need a huge dose of chocolate, a hot bath, a glass of wine, and some good old sexy belly laughs, and she ever fails to deliver. So, last night, chocolate, hot bath, a Merlot blend I just discovered that I like quite a bit, and I settled in for an Eve read.

Chloe is a hoot. Snarky and tough, she has no interest in any kind of relationship. . .  At. All.  So, she enjoys her crappy paying job as a public defender, working with her friend Becky whom she has known since kindergarten, defending way more weirdos than she would like (well, at least they do make her life interesting) when a werewolf walks in her door. He’s been charged with peeing on his neighbor’s roses . . .


And what happens after is a hoot. Cause it isn’t just the werewolf that is ‘dogging’ her tracks (get it? Dogging? Giggle! Ah, well, sigh) there is the local prosecutor who is sniffing up her skirt as well. Well, maybe not, ‘sniffing’ per se. . . but anyway, you get the point.

Demons and werewolves, other things that go bump in the night. And a pair of men who won’t take no for an answer? All I can say, is funny, and sexy baby, funny and sexy!  With the male population overrunning the world, polygamy is the law, but Chloe isn’t having any of it  –  is she?

Fun, relaxing, exciting, it’s all there. If you are up for a paranormal romance with a ton of sass, enjoy!!

Very Wicked Things is LIVE this week! *a standalone novel in the Briarcrest Academy Series*

Click to go to the Amazon order page.

Book Description

May 11, 2014

$2.99 is the introductory launch price!! Normal price is $3.99 

NOTE: It is recommended you read Very Wicked Beginnings first. (Prequel Novella). 

WARNING: This new adult romance is dark with sexual situations and graphic language. Over 18 please. THIS IS NOT YOUNG ADULT.
Ballerina Dovey Beckham is a scholarship student at Briarcrest Academy, determined to prove she’s more than just a girl with the wrong pedigree. She does whatever it takes to succeed in her endgame, even if it means surrendering her body but never her heart.
Until the day she meets him, and he rips apart all her well-laid plans. Suddenly, the girl everyone thought unbreakable might just shatter.
Cuba “Hollywood” Hudson is rich, spoiled, and a star football player. With his fast cars and superficial girlfriends, he lives the high-life, hiding his secrets from the world.
Until the day he meets her, and she offers him something he’s never tasted…love.
But once in a lifetime kind of love doesn’t come easy…especially when dirty money, past sins, and old flames come calling.

Welcome to Briarcrest Academy, where sometimes, only the wicked survive.

Available NOW
Click here to go to the site for the Keith Milano Memorial Fund for Suicide Prevention.

About the Author:

Bestselling author Ilsa Madden-Mills writes about strong heroines and sexy alpha males that sometimes you just want to slap.
She spends her days with two small kids, a neurotic cat, and her Viking husband. She collects magnets and rarely cooks except to bake her own pretzels.
When she’s not typing away at a story, you can find her drinking too much Diet Coke, jamming out to Pink, or checking on her carefully maintained chocolate stash.
She loves to hear from fans. Sign up for her newsletter (sent out less than five times a year) to receive info about sales and new releases



Very Wicked Things





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Blog Tour: Flame by Clarissa Wild

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6 years ago

I’m walking home from school, wandering across the streets as I stare at the beautiful houses. Peeking into their living rooms, I can clearly see the candle flames dancing, flickering through the window like a warm, inviting light. People walking in the rooms are oblivious of me, which gives me all the more reason to keep looking. Their happy faces make me smile, if only for a second. Catching a glimpse of a normal life lets me escape from reality.
Envy unfurls in my stomach, and a bad taste enters my mouth as I spit on the ground and walk further. Up to the next house. Up to the next short moment of carelessness.
Reaching my house is the last thing I want, but I know it’ll happen eventually. I’ll have to go home. I always have to. There’s nowhere else I can go, and my brother needs me. Not as much as I need him, though. I probably wouldn’t even be alive without him.
No one at my age should be going through this. No one should be picking up their mom from the grass every morning. No kid should have to drag his mom to bed. No kid should have to raise himself.
My home is a broken one. When I spot it, a heavy feeling overcomes me. Each step I take leads to another day in hell.
The garden is littered with used needles, empty bottles of liquor, and old condoms. Me and my brother never have time to clean it all up. We’re too busy trying to keep the house clean enough to live in.
As I enter the house a familiar, but disgusting stench causes me to cough. All the windows are closed, smoke wafts through the air, bottles are scattered on the table, and an empty bag of white powder is in my mother’s hand as she hangs like a wet rag in her seat. Ash grey hair sticks to her face, masking her eyes. Her head is on the table, and she’s snoring loudly. The only thing keeping her in place is her bony ass stuck to that chair she only leaves to get some more. More of whatever she needs to satisfy her addictions.
“Hey, bro,” Jessie says. He’s unwinding the vacuum plug, turning it on at the same time.
“Hey …” I say.
“Sorry, thought I’d have it cleaned up by now, but it was too much of a mess.”
“Don’t apologize,” I say. “It’s not your fault.”
He smiles briefly. “I know. I just don’t want you to see it.”
A moment of silence passes between us, the air thick with unspoken words. I owe my brother so much. He’s the only one taking care of both of us right now. I wonder how long we’ll last if she keeps this up.
I start unpacking my things, shoving my mother aside from the table so I have enough room to check what I need to do. My notebook is filled to the brim with short texts of things I need to remember. My memory always fails me, especially when it comes to short term things like homework or names. It’s been like this for as long as I can remember. My brother thinks it’s because of my mother. We don’t know her any other way than she is now. Drunk. Addicted. Full on drugs.
Just thinking about it makes my skin crawl. Sometimes I really hate her, but she’s my mother too. I owe her for keeping us alive, for trying to do her best to give us a home. Somewhere along the way she failed. I can’t not resent her for that. At times I wonder if she ever intended on having us or if we were accidents she regrets.
It doesn’t change anything about our situation. It doesn’t change anything about the fact that it’s her fault I have a learning disability and my brother has ADD.
One of the notes slips from my book, and it lands on her arm. The paper immediately stains with blood. Sighing, I pick up the piece of paper and notice the puncture marks on her skin. She looks more like an orange than a human sometimes, that’s how many holes she shot into herself. So many it doesn’t stop bleeding. Still, it doesn’t make her quit.
Suddenly, she grabs my hand, and I’m startled by her movement. I jolt up and pull my hand back as her head shoots up from the table. Her eyes are bloodshot, staring back at me with a crazy look like she doesn’t know who I am. It takes her a few seconds to register that it’s me, and then a smile slowly creeps onto her face, exposing her black, broken teeth and smelly breath.
“Hunter …” she mumbles.
Her hand drops off the table, the bag of powder tumbling to the floor. The sound immediately catches her attention, as if it’s food for a starving woman. Bending to pick it up, her fingers tremble as she reaches for the bag.
“Shit. It’s empty again.”
“You used too much again,” I add.
“No, no, no, this can’t happen,” she mumbles, clearly still under the influence.
“Mom. Calm down. You can go without it for a few hours. You won’t die.”
“No, I can’t!” she gets up from her seat, barely able to stand as her legs are two thin sticks ready to snap.
“I’m going to get more,” she stammers, grabbing me by the coat.
“Let go of me,” I say.
“You can’t stay here alone with your brother.”
“Why not?”
“Because …” she sniffs. “I need you. I can’t do this without you.” She wipes away the tears filling her eyes. She, most of us all, is unable to face the monster she’s become.
“No, mom. I’m not coming with you. I’m not going to be your busboy again. Not anymore.”
“What? You don’t mean that. You know I need you. Please don’t let me go through this alone.” She tightens her grip on my arm, dragging me to the door. Resisting is what I should be doing, but I don’t want to hurt her. She’s been hurt enough in her life.
“Stop,” Jessie shouts. He stops vacuuming, turning it off. His fists are balled, his nostrils flaring, and his stance is aggressive, as if he’s about to attack my mother. I know he would if it was necessary.
“Let. Him. Go.” His teeth barely separate as he speaks the words. His furrowed brows even scare me.
Her fingers untangle themselves from my arm, and I shake myself loose from her grip. I turn away from her, slanting to the side because I’m scared she might grab me again and make a run for it. My brother is and always will be the only thing keeping her from ruining not only herself but me, too.
“Fine, but I’m going,” she says, and after making a horrible face she walks out the door. The slam that follows force the tears to spring from my eyes.


Sexy handsome man posing. Nude sensual couple Young couple kissiing

A Challenge for Reviewers of E.L. James

Reason sits firm and holds the reins, and she will not let the feelings burst away and hurry her to wild chasms. The passions may rage furiously, like true heathens, as they are; and the desires may imagine all sorts of vain things: but judgment shall still have the last word in every argument, and the casting vote in every decision.
– Charlotte Bronte

Nobel Laureate Gertrude Stein.
(© Hulton-Deutsch Collection / Corbis)
All Rights Reserved

We are not people with no discriminating taste when it comes to literature.” – Pamelia A. in a 5-Star Review for “50 Shades of Grey”

Click for
A Jury Of Her Peers

Like some other reviewers, what I find terribly depressing is that this is a runaway bestseller and the movie rights are expected to sell for up to $5 million. There are so many highly talented writers in the genre… and erotica is so much more erotic when the author has a command of the language and can make you care about the characters. For examples, check out the “Beauty” trilogy written by Anne Rice under the pen name A.N. Roquelaure, or any stories by Donna George Storey or Rachel Kramer Bussel. – D.S. From LA in a 1-Star Review for “50 Shades of Grey”

I challenge reviewers of “50 Shades of Grey” to read and review a minimum of THREE books from writers who are listed in
A Jury of Her Peers: American Women Writers from Anne Bradstreet to Annie Proulx” by Elaine Showalter. This is an exceptional overview of true women’s literature. Stories of and by women with strength, intelligence, knowledge, and heart. Women who offer truly discriminating taste in literature. Only three, as there are three installments in James.

If you don’t wish to purchase her book, you may find a simple list of Women Nobel Laureates in Literature at:…

Once you have read and reviewed three of these books, I encourage you to go back and read “50 Shades” again. Then, post another review of E.L. James in light of your three chosen Nobel Laureate books.

Reviews should be posted here in this group. They may, of course, be posted to other sites, including Amazon.

Reviews to be submitted by APRIL 1, 2014. That is a book a month, certainly achievable if you are interested in this challenge.

A poll will be posted in order to choose your favorite “hate it” and “still love it” reviews. Prizes will be awarded!

And for those who really only read erotica, you can choose books by the authors suggested by D.S. From LA if you have read this post here on my website!
Are YOU sure enough of your literary assessment of James’ work to meet my challenge?

A Very Offended Rant

I write for those women who do not speak, for those who do not have a voice because they were so terrified, because we are taught to respect fear more than ourselves. We’ve been taught that silence would save us, but it won’t.  –  Audre Lorde

Speaking very generally, I find that women are spiritually, emotionally, and often physically stronger than men.  –  Gary Oldman

The link below is to a post from the site of a blogger I have been following for a while. To be perfectly clear, the  particular post I am responding to was not posted by Gabriel, but on his site in response to a blog he wrote about the effect of porn on human relationships; “Why Real Men Shouldn’t Fanaticize About Women”. The full post may be accessed at:


Gabriel makes some exceptionally good points regarding the detrimental effect of porn on the ability of men to having loving, realistic relationships with women. I would also point out that his points should also apply to women and their addictions to porn – yes, it is out there, we just don’t talk about it is all. Women can become just as addicted to porn in the books they read. The typical erotica novel hero is no more realistic than the typical female porn star. And the typical male is not totally ripped while still being totally in touch with his feelings. Or totally alpha, but this whole ‘totally alpha’ thing turns my stomach anyway so we won’t go there. Does the typical “real” female truly want to be tied up and beaten and humiliated every night before they can get off? I would certainly hope not, or that would be a truly bad sign about where we are going as a society . . .

Anyway, the following is my rant. Read it or not, respond to it or not, I believe I have some solid points in response to what I believe to be a completely twisted vision of what male/female relationships should be about. And I would greatly hope I am not the only person to think this way, or I am going to be really frustrated with the whole situation!

A man who graduated high in his class at Yale Law School and made partnership in a top law firm would be celebrated. A man who invested wisely would be admired, but a woman who accomplishes this is treated with suspicion.  –  Barbara Streisand


The following is my particular rant, and doesn’t reflect on Gabriel in any way, but to the post by Dota on July 30, 2013 at 4:56 PM. You can scroll down to see the comment.

This is the post:

This is indeed a good article and you’ve raised several good points. Porn does destroy self confidence and is ultimately a destructive and self defeating activity.

I believe (as you do) that most men today view porn because they cannot seem to respect women. While I agree with you that men should ultimately respect women, I do not believe that the modern North American woman makes it easy to respect her. Our grandfathers never objectified women because women back then made excellent mates, nurturing and loyal. Today’s North American/Western European woman is an overgrown child with ADD who is lacking in character, moral fiber, basic etiquette, and over all integrity. Today’s women want to participate in behaviours that were unacceptable 5 decades ago (drinking/smoking/cussing in public) but still want men to respect them in the way our grandfathers respected their women.

I think the juncture where we disagree is that you believe porn makes men disrespect women, and this is true to some extent. I believe that 5 decades of Feminism has made the modern woman so undesirable, that most men gravitate towards porn as a result.

But porn is indeed a cancer upon society and one that seems to be winning.


Hold the phone! Wait just a moment. Back up. You have GOT to be kidding me! What planet do you live on? They must do some really interesting drugs there . . .

Have you really READ history, or do you live in a la-la land of “Leave It To Beaver”? Where women wore house-dresses and high heels to cook and clean and said “yes dear” and had sex in the missionary position and never, NEVER, EVER had an orgasm? And drank vodka and took pills to dull the pain of being totally, unequivocally unfulfilled? Where women of intelligence and wit, instead of being college educated and reaching their potential, becoming doctors and engineers, became baby factories and domestic slaves? Who turned a blind eye while their husbands screwed their secretaries and had second families on the side while their wives pretended they didn’t know? These same women who, when their husbands died, or left them, were left with children to feed and raise, who had no skills or training to provide the money to do so?

Is the fact that I gained a Bachelor’s degree and a Masters degree and held down a corporate position reason to not respect me? Or the fact that I made my own money, was respected for my intelligence and contributions to society, to charity and to scholarly works reason to disrespect me as a woman? Maybe it is my love of 20-year-old single malt Highland Scotch and having my needs met in bed? Does that make me undeserving of respect? Or maybe it is the fact that I left a husband who expected the very things you seem to crave in a spouse – total, uncomplaining submission, while he totally controlled my access to money, who wanted to control what I wore, where I went, who I saw and whether or not I had an orgasm, just like his own father did to his mother. Does that make me unworthy of respect, when I went out on my own, got a job, a home, and gained the aforementioned degrees and personal and public respect?

How much has society lost, treating women like they would their dogs, training them to obey, to snap to commands, to fall within a narrow boundary of acceptable behaviours? What have we lost, decreeing women to be second-class citizens? Cures for cancer, diabetes, heart disease? Answers to world poverty or peace or how we are going to be able to handle overpopulation or addressing our coming energy or pollution problems? Men certainly haven’t done a bang-up job of any of that. Men are seemingly incapable of living beside one another without destroying anyone they find to be different than themselves, or to have something that they want for their own. Wars over oil, religion, land. Cultures where women and children are raped and murdered in response to rape and abuse that was out of their control. Male oriented religions that demean and objectify women, men in dresses, waving texts designed and written by men, that curtail the rights of women over even their own bodies. Societies that allow men to murder their own wives because they were taken by force and raped by a stranger or a neighbor or an “enemy”?

Wake up and smell the coffee. In your little Leave It To Beaver world, women weren’t “respected”. They were paid less even when their work product was better than a male coworker. They weren’t safe on the streets, and if anything happened to them through no fault of their own they were denied legal recourse. They were abused at home with no recourse to women’s shelters or even the comfort of family members. Their children were abused as well, and all the little perfect people you envision turned a blind eye – including family members and priests. Apparently, your vision of “respect” is putting women in “Their Place” where they bow down to you as a cook, maid, breeder and body slave.

I am old enough to remember those days, and believe me, they were NOT the gumdrops and kittens you seem to crave. Wake up. I suggest you do a bit of reading of the “non-fantastical” variety. Take a look around you at the women and children who are STILL being mistreated by men who think they own their partners, just like they own their dogs and their pickup trucks. I am willing to give a male just as much respect as he shows himself to be deserving of. I am also willing to make sure that I rip his balls off should he show me disrespect, just as I would expect to be brought to task for not showing respect for any male who showed himself to be deserving of same. The key word here is deserving. You, Dota, are not deserving of my respect, because you do not respect me. And that is the whole point – just because you have dangly junk does NOT automatically make you deserving of respect. A mans mind, heart and actions are what decide their respectability, not their Y-chromosome.

In the words of Maya Angelou;

History, despite its wrenching pain, cannot be unlived, but if faced with courage, need not be lived again.

Read For Review: Good Enough To Share – Maria Stoneley

Click for Zara’s Website!

Good Enough To Share” by Maria Stoneley is a surprise in the genre. Billed as an erotic menage fantasy, the little book is much more than that. It is a story of four people I found I truly liked. I found it to be a lot more than just erotic fiction. The story is sweet – not in a saccharine sort of way, but in a very warm and caring way. All four characters are damaged very deeply, and yet they are very caring with one another. It is more than a ‘roll-in-the-hay’ book. It was, for me, about the pain others put us through and how our friends help us to work through that pain and learn to reach out to others.

Sophie, one of the two female characters, I personally identified with, as I am much like her. I stuffed the pain of my history down so deep it ate me from the inside out, just like Sophie. Holly also touched me, personally. Maybe that is why I liked the characters so much. I could identify with them.

Overall, a quick read with a bit of erotica, and a lovely story line. I will be watching for the next in this series. Maria is planning three that I know, check out her website


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