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Hurricane Sandy slapped us pretty hard here in Northern VA. We had several hours of very bad rainand wind and several Omg heart in throat bangs that shook the house. We never lost power and visual inspections inside and out don't show any damage at all. We're very lucky.
My thoughts and prayers go out to everyone impacted by this monster storm! Please check in if you're in the affected areas!
I released a new book yesterday, my first paranormal under the TG pen name. It is called Hot Growl and starts a new series. CHeck out the STUNNING cover from![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
wintermute_lj
On sale now at Smashwords, Amazon, B&N, and ARE.
When rock star Merc is attacked outside a party, a huge cat comes to his rescue. What is it and why it prowling the streets of LA. And why does the thought of being attacked turn him on so much?
Famous actor Chase rushes to Merc’s aid, but he doesn’t bargain for the sexual connection burning between them. He’s a Shifter and Merc is just a human. Nothing good can come of their lust.
Or so they think…
Hot Growl starts the story of this sexy actor and his rock star lover. There’s a lot of their story to tell, and this is only the beginning.
And here is an excerpt!
“Party,” Merc said, trying to act as if he didn’t have a care in the world, even though his heart was racing, his mouth drying out. He clenched the bottle tightly, wondering if he could or should break it and try to use it as a weapon. He had nothing he could use to strike out, except maybe his keys, and he was grossly outnumbered, outmuscled, and completely outmatched.
“We weren’t invited,” another guy, a twitchy redhead with two chipped front teeth, said. He shoved Merc back and his head thudded against the brick wall. Merc tried to bite back his groan, but from the way the men were laughing, he had a feeling they’d scented blood, like the pack of wild animals they were. And he was the prey.
Hunt on!
Merc shook his head, trying to drive back the dizziness he was feeling, and then headed off at a run, tossing his beer bottle back into the crowd of thugs. One guy cursed as the bottle shattered, but Merc didn’t slow down. The group was between him and the club, but maybe he could double back or around.
The sounds of thudding boots reached his ears and he realized that even as athletic as he was, these guys were quick and fast, and possibly a bit younger, and they were going to catch him. Should he stop and stand his ground or let them run him down?
Merc skidded to a stop, turning around, waiting for these guys to kick his ass. But then a low, feral growl reached his ears and all the hair on his body stood on end. He groaned low, not sure even why he was vocalizing and drawing attention to himself.
The group of men was still barreling toward him, but when that sound echoed and bounced off the buildings, amplified, they slowed. And though hatred blazed in their eyes, Merc could see a little uncertainty there too.
Another low growl rang out, and Merc shook. He should be running—this was his time to escape—but he couldn’t move. Couldn’t just turn and go in case these guys—or whatever the hell owned that growl—took him down. This was starting to seem like some urban perversion of one of those National Geographic shows where the lion took down the gazelle or deer or whatever the fuck they took down in Africa.
Instead, Merc fought every instinct and stood his ground, fists clenched, body shaking and quaking. Parts of his brain were sparking off each other and Merc could feel the adrenaline pulling his body tight, the beer sour in his stomach suddenly.
Do not throw up, he told himself, gritting his teeth against the rise in bile. That was all he needed to be taken down and shanked while puking his guts out.
“Oh fuck!” one of the guys yelled, a high pitched edge in his voice. Merc sucked in air and peered around him to see.
OH FUCK!
My thoughts and prayers go out to everyone impacted by this monster storm! Please check in if you're in the affected areas!
I released a new book yesterday, my first paranormal under the TG pen name. It is called Hot Growl and starts a new series. CHeck out the STUNNING cover from
wintermute_ljOn sale now at Smashwords, Amazon, B&N, and ARE.
When rock star Merc is attacked outside a party, a huge cat comes to his rescue. What is it and why it prowling the streets of LA. And why does the thought of being attacked turn him on so much?
Famous actor Chase rushes to Merc’s aid, but he doesn’t bargain for the sexual connection burning between them. He’s a Shifter and Merc is just a human. Nothing good can come of their lust.
Or so they think…
Hot Growl starts the story of this sexy actor and his rock star lover. There’s a lot of their story to tell, and this is only the beginning.
And here is an excerpt!
“Party,” Merc said, trying to act as if he didn’t have a care in the world, even though his heart was racing, his mouth drying out. He clenched the bottle tightly, wondering if he could or should break it and try to use it as a weapon. He had nothing he could use to strike out, except maybe his keys, and he was grossly outnumbered, outmuscled, and completely outmatched.
“We weren’t invited,” another guy, a twitchy redhead with two chipped front teeth, said. He shoved Merc back and his head thudded against the brick wall. Merc tried to bite back his groan, but from the way the men were laughing, he had a feeling they’d scented blood, like the pack of wild animals they were. And he was the prey.
Hunt on!
Merc shook his head, trying to drive back the dizziness he was feeling, and then headed off at a run, tossing his beer bottle back into the crowd of thugs. One guy cursed as the bottle shattered, but Merc didn’t slow down. The group was between him and the club, but maybe he could double back or around.
The sounds of thudding boots reached his ears and he realized that even as athletic as he was, these guys were quick and fast, and possibly a bit younger, and they were going to catch him. Should he stop and stand his ground or let them run him down?
Merc skidded to a stop, turning around, waiting for these guys to kick his ass. But then a low, feral growl reached his ears and all the hair on his body stood on end. He groaned low, not sure even why he was vocalizing and drawing attention to himself.
The group of men was still barreling toward him, but when that sound echoed and bounced off the buildings, amplified, they slowed. And though hatred blazed in their eyes, Merc could see a little uncertainty there too.
Another low growl rang out, and Merc shook. He should be running—this was his time to escape—but he couldn’t move. Couldn’t just turn and go in case these guys—or whatever the hell owned that growl—took him down. This was starting to seem like some urban perversion of one of those National Geographic shows where the lion took down the gazelle or deer or whatever the fuck they took down in Africa.
Instead, Merc fought every instinct and stood his ground, fists clenched, body shaking and quaking. Parts of his brain were sparking off each other and Merc could feel the adrenaline pulling his body tight, the beer sour in his stomach suddenly.
Do not throw up, he told himself, gritting his teeth against the rise in bile. That was all he needed to be taken down and shanked while puking his guts out.
“Oh fuck!” one of the guys yelled, a high pitched edge in his voice. Merc sucked in air and peered around him to see.
OH FUCK!
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Hot cover indeed! Good luck with the new book.
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