Monday, December 19, 2011

Reviews and News

Happy Holidays Everyone!

I have been working away on a few project that will be released soon.
But, I wanted to pop in and say 'hello'

Also, check out reviews of two of my books by the talented Nevea Lane here:


Also, pick up her book Ronni's Romanian at Beautiful Trouble Publishing:

Monday, November 28, 2011

News and Upcoming Releases

I wanted to take a moment to update you on my upcoming releases and news.

First, I’d like to thank Janet for her review of Hell’s Angels. Check it out here:
Second, I’d like to tell you about two of my upcoming releases.

The first is Midnight Muse from Beautiful Trouble Publishing. This is a contemporary set on the isle of Rhodes in Greece. Grace Bowers goes to Greece on a working vacation. Her goals are simple: to complete her romance novel and to mend her broken heart. When she rents a cottage from Evander Vicenti’s family, Grace doesn’t count on meeting Evander himself—or on finding him so handsome and sexy.

Evander has been pressured by his family to find a wife. However, he’s not ready to settle down. His mind changes when he meets Grace. In an instant, he knew that Grace was the one, but she wasn’t so convinced. After the pair quickly becomes close, Grace must decide if her heart can take another long-distance relationship—or if she can leave Evander behind for good.

From Cobblestone Press, In From the Cold is a holiday themed, paranormal short for CP’s upcoming Blue line. During a solo session, London conjures up her dream partner, an incubus named Daemyon. The one night they share isn’t enough for either of them. But, in order to make Daemyon real, London must fall in love with him. Will Daemyon be London’s gift this year?

I will have a few more new releases. Please check out these and my other available eBooks at or

Friday, November 18, 2011

Sneak Peek! The Reckoning

I just wanted to give you a sneak peek of my upcoming release, The Reckoning.

This is a young adult series that features Red. Red is a demon slayer who is still learning the ropes. This scene is the first meeting between her and her guardian angel, Airic. Enjoy!

The school bell chimed, signaling an end to another boring day. Lysette Gibson, or Red, stood from the desk and yawned loudly. However, no one else in the civics class moved. The other students averted their eyes as Sister Bernice glared at Red from the front of the class room.  Red wasn’t about to sit back down. If she did, she would fall asleep. She was already supposed to serve detention for that offense in biology class. 
                Sister Bernice was a tall, lanky nun who looked a lot younger than she was. Her long brunette hair was pulled back into a bun. Crisp white blouse was buttoned to her neck and tucked, neatly into a black skirt. Sensible black flats adorned her feet. Underneath all of that harshness, she was a hottie, Red thought as she stared at Sister Bernice. Too bad it was wasted on nothing.
                Noise from the other students in the all girl’s Catholic school floated in from the hallway. The muffled chatter only fueled Red desire to get the heck out of there. She at least wanted to grab a soda from the store on the corner before she served her detention with Sister Anne.
                “Remember class,” Sister Bernice said. Her dark brown eyes never left Red’s hazel gaze. “I dismiss you. Not the bell.”
                Cassie, a petite blonde who sat on Red’s left, leaned across the aisle and whispered, “If you don’t sit your ass down, she going to make us all stay extra minutes.”
                Rolling her eyes, Red sank with a loud huff into her wooden desk chair.  Sister Bernice was her least favorite teacher at Saint Jerome’s academy for Girls. Of course, Red had the teacher for three of her six classes. Red scrunched down in her seat. She crossed her arms over her chest and waited. One more year to go, she reminded herself.
                “Don’t forget to read chapters seven and twelve. There will be a quiz.” The sister paused for effect. In her mind, Red let out a scream that would wake the dead.  “Lysette, I need to see you. The rest of you are dismissed.”
                Chairs scrapped against the white linoleum as her classmates cleared the room.  She closed her eyes and breathed deeply.  The sound of footsteps rattled her nerves. Sister Bernice’s light floral scent washed over her. The sister’s shadow fell across Red’s face. Still, Red didn’t open her eyes.
                “Is everything okay?” Sister Bernice asked.
                “Yep,” Red said.
                “Why are you sleeping in my class?”       
                Red smirked. “I’m always sleeping in your class.”
                Sister Bernice sighed. “Red. I understand you have a difficult life, but that’s no reason to stop caring about your education.”
                Red’s eyes flew open.  She stood up and slung her backpack over her shoulder. This woman knew nothing about Red’s home life. If she did, she’d know Red’s stepfather was a cop . Her mother was a psychic that read people at Union Station. Yeah, her grandmother was on drugs, but whose wasn’t?  She’d also know that the reason Red was so tired was because she was up until one am trying to track down a werewolf that was terrorizing her neighborhood.         
                However, Red suspected that Sister Bernice made that statement based on the simple fact that Red was black and assumed she lived in a drug infested neighborhood. Her block wasn’t that bad. It was rough around the edges, but she loved her little piece of the world. It was home.
                “It’s cool,” Red stated, though she clenched her jaw tightly. “I have detention.”
                Concern flashed in Sister Bernice’s eyes. She moved toward Red and rested her hand on Red’s shoulders. Red was about three inches taller than Sister Bernice. “If you need to talk, I’m available.”
                Shrugging off Sister Bernice’s touch, Red left the room. There was no time for her to get a snack. Instead, she sprinted up the three flights of stairs to Sister Anne’s classroom. Red scrunched up her nose when she entered. The room always smelled like potatoes. It was located over the cafeteria.  Sister Anne hadn’t arrived yet.  Yawning, Red took her normal seat in the back row. Fishing around in her backpack, she pulled out her smart phone, shoved the buds in her ears and then laid her head down on the desk.
The quiet classroom was the perfect place for a nap. Beyonce sung her latest song n Red’s ear. Everyone in the neighborhood thought Red looked like Beyonce. She got that compliment all the time. Whatever, Red smirked.  Beyonce wished she looked like her. Sure, they had the same long honey blond hair and brown eyes, but the entertainer probably didn’t have to fight demons before she took the stage. Sometimes, Red wished, she didn’t either.
After all, Red didn’t choose to be a slayer. This job was something than an angel prophesied while Red was still baking in her mother’s womb. That angel was her real father.  She drifted off to sleep, trying to imagine the man that she had never met.   In her mind, she opened her eyes and found herself in a supermarket. A green and pink handheld basket was in her hands. She squinted in the florescent lights at the bare shelves. What was she looking for?  Obviously, they didn’t have it. She passed a mirror. Stopped. Backed up. Now, she was wearing a body hugging red catsuit instead of her uniform. It was sick! Flipping her hair over her shoulder, she continued on.
Red rounded the corner to walk down the next aisle. And there he was. The man that had been haunting her dreams for as long as she could remember. He was at least six foot tall with shoulder length brown hair.  As she drew closer to him, she noticed that his eyes were green. His pale skin held a golden tint to it. On his body, he wore a teal sweatshirt over a white t-shirt and jeans. Black skater shoes adorned his feet.  He stood as rigid as a statue and didn’t even blink when she stopped in front of him. Who was he?
Airic. He answered in her mind. She frowned.  
“You can read minds?” She asked him. “Why are you always in my dreams?”
Airic tilted his head to look at her. Red took a startled step back. Her lips trembled when he stepped down off the platform shelf.
“I’m your guardian angel,” he said.
“Every slayer had one. I’m yours.”
Red looked him up and down. “Where are your wings? Don’t angels have them?”
In a flash, Airic pulled his hoodie and shirt over his head and unfurled his wings from his shoulder blades.  Red’s breath caught in her throat. The sight of his bare muscular chest and white wings together was more than she could handle. She looked away. Only to look back. How far into Hell’s pit will they put her for lusting after an angel?
“Damn,” she muttered.  “Is that why you’re always in my dreams?”
Crossing his arms over his chest, Airic tilted his head to study her.  “Fighting demons is a hard job. You need someone to have your back at all times.”
Red shook her head. “There’s a lot about this life I don’t know.”
“You’ll learn. I’ll help you when I can.”   
She looked at him. “Explain it to me. “
“I will. But, first you need to do something for me.”
When he took a step toward her, the heat from his body washed over hers. Red sucked in a breath. Airic cupped her cheek.  Was he going to kiss her? It was cool if he didn’t. She wasn’t above making the first move. He leaned down. His gorgeous face was only inches from hers. Her heart stopped breathing when he parted his full lips.
“Wake up,” He whispered.
Red woke up with a start.  Sister Anne hovered over her. The short, stout woman narrowed her eyes at Red. Groggy, Red sat back in her chair. She pulled the buds from her ears to hear the word Sister Anne’s mouth was forming.
“…it’s study hall not nap time, Ms. Gibson. For that, I’m keeping you  an extra fifteen minutes. Please start your duties. You know the drill.”
When Sister Anne turned to walk away, Red stuck out her tongue.  Whatever, she had her own personal guardian angel.  A fine one, at that. She climbed to her feet. Her leg wobbled as she straightened the desk rows into neat line. Airic flashed in her mind. Was he with her now? With a new resolve, Red hurried to clean the chalkboard.  She and Airic needed to talk.

Thursday, October 27, 2011

New Release! Hell's Angels from Beautiful Trouble Publishing

I have a new release out this week. Hell's Angel's from Beautiful Trouble Publishing.

Title:   Hells Angels
Author:    RW Shannon
Description: IR (BW/WM), paranormal  
Download:  Adobe PDF, HTML, MobiPocket PDA (with DRM for Kindle) 
Price: $4.00     
Length: 15,563 words Appetizers   
Heat Level:   Hotness
Release Date:   24 October 2011
Once upon a time lived three triplets in Hades. Elise, Tish and Meg Erin were loyal fighting machines for their brother Cronos. The demon daughters of Aphrodite were content with the way things were, until Elise’s chance meeting with an angel turns their world upside down.

Angels and demons are forbidden to consort, but that doesn’t stop Michael from trying to find a way to see the demon that stole his heart, Elise Erin. His fellow angels, Raphael and Gabriel, also find themselves smitten by the demons. But when the rulers in both Heaven and Hell learn of their clandestine meeting, all hell literally breaks loose.

Can love triumph over evil?

The flames of Hades crackled around Cronos as he glared at his father, Uranus. Uranus, the ruler of the Underworld, sat on his throne with such smugness that Cronos’ blood boiled.  Unfit? His father dared to say that he was unfit to rule Hades!  Cronos snarled. It was apparent his father wasn’t about to abdicate the throne to Cronos; therefore, he would just have to take it from him. The old man had been standing in his way for far too long, and it was time for him to die. Tonight.
             Roaring, Cronos charged at Uranus with his sword drawn. He toppled his father from the marble throne and stabbed him through his heart. The god had a way of coming back to life, and Cronos had to make sure that didn’t happen. Beheading the old man wasn’t an option, as Uranus could regenerate and come back to life, but perhaps castration would take care of him, since the life force of the god was in his penis and not his head.
            Cronos knelt beside his father’s body and severed his penis. Blood squirted from the wound into the air. When Cronos turned to toss the organ into the river of Hades, he noticed Aphrodite standing near. A look of horror spread across her face while Uranus’ blood dripped down her bare abdomen and settled between her thighs. The goddess hadn’t been there when Cronos began his murderous overthrow of his father. Where did she come from? he wondered.  However, he wasn’t rattled by her appearance. He’d kill the beautiful goddess, too, if need be.
            Still, Cronos couldn’t take his eyes off Aphrodite. He appraised the shimmering caramel skin of her nude body as the expression on her face turned from surprise to anger. Even in this state, she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.
            “You bastard,” she screeched at him.
            Cronos gripped her arms. “You won’t speak of this.”
            Aphrodite jerked from his grasp. “I don’t give a shit that you killed that asshole. You just got me pregnant, you idiot!”
            Startled, Cronos took a half step back. “What? How? It’s just blood…”
             “It’s not just blood. It contains all we need to live, including the means to procreate.”
            Cronos opened his mouth, but closed it without speaking. He failed to see why this was his problem and why she was so worked up over it. Plus, he couldn’t know for sure whether Uranus’ blood had crept into her cavity and mixed with her own. Aphrodite moaned as the area around her abdomen began to stretch and round over the fetus within her.
            “Now, do you understand?” she said.
            He crossed his arms over his chest. “Whatever. It’s still not my problem. You’re a goddess. Get some sap to raise it.”
            Aphrodite’s eyes darkened as she gazed at him. Cronos swallowed but refused to be rattled by her wrath. He was king of Hades, and nothing would destroy the joy of this moment. Not even an accidental pregnancy. Before he could react, the goddess slapped him before turning on her heels and storming away.
            Months later, Aphrodite returned to Hades with three small girls in tow. Cronos regarded the girls with curiosity and disdain. The triplets looked frightened as the goddess nudged them toward him. They appeared to be about five years old with expressive brown eyes, dark chocolate skin, and black pigtails. Aphrodite introduced them as Elise, Meg and Tish Erin. He was confused as to why she’d brought them to him. Just a visit, perhaps—they were his sisters, after all.
            “Here,” the goddess said. “They’re yours now.”
            At once, Cronos rose from his throne, almost knocking it over in his haste. “What are you talking about?”
            “I had them. You raise them.”
            Cronos crossed his arms over his massive chest as he balked at Aphrodite’s statement.
            Aphrodite smirked. “I believe your words were, ‘you’re a goddess. Get some sap to raise them.’ You, my dear, are the sap.”
            When she shoved the girls in his direction, Cronos stepped to the side before they could touch him. She was mad if she assumed he would resume responsibility for the children. He looked at their sad faces, then at the goddess.
            “Hades is no place for a child,” he said, stalling for time and words. “Besides, what am I to do with them?”
            “You created them. You figure it out.”
            The goddess disappeared without further comment. Cronos looked at the triplets. He rubbed his chin as he pondered what to do with them.  In their distress, the girls transformed into a four-foot tall, three-headed dragon. The creature had black scaly skin and a long, spike-covered tail, and when it exhaled fire from one of its large mouths that contained razor-sharp teeth, the force knocked Cronos on his ass. Frowning, he instantly went on guard, as if sensing a trap. But why would Aphrodite go to such lengths?
            “We’re sorry,” the dragon said. “We can’t control it yet.”
            “Where did you learn that?” Cronos asked as he climbed to his feet.
            “Mother gave us powers.”
            He stiffened. “What kind of powers?”
            “We can do this or…”
            The dragon transformed into three smaller animals: a scorpion, a black widow spider and a snake. The scorpion introduced herself as Elise, the spider as Meg and the snake as Tish. Awed, Cronos watched the animals turn back into three frightened little girls.  A light bulb went off in his head. What if, he thought as he paced before them, he trained the girls to be his most feared warriors? Delighted with the idea, he chuckled as he summoned his servants to build the girls a place to sleep.
            “Don’t worry,” Cronos said as he gathered the three sisters around him to begin their training. “I won’t hurt you.”
            An impenetrable palace made of fire was created for the girls to live in while Cronos trained them to become fighting machines. Over time, he began to love the girls like his own, but he was paranoid that they would one day overthrow him and take the throne as he had done to his father. And so he put in place a series of measures to control the girls, who obeyed him—for now. Soon, however, this loyalty would be tested in a way he hadn’t foreseen.

BUY it here!

Thursday, October 6, 2011


Since my last blog, I hadn’t let JB go completely. I decided to not do anything, but sit back and watch him. I had also prayed about it. I asked that if I’m supposed to let JB go, make him go away. He didn’t leave. Instead, I got daily messages from JB. Can a leopard really change his spots? Perhaps…

The thing about dealing with JB is I never know which side of him I’m going to get from one day to the next. One minute, he’s caring and sensitive. The next, he’s a complete idiot. So, I got messages ranging from him asking me to borrow money to a simple hello to if I can send him some topless pics of me. (sigh).

Last night, I asked what his life plan was. Where he wanted to be in ten years. He said he didn’t know and that’s why he needed a woman like me in his life to bring him structure. I told him. I can’t do that for him, that he needed to find that within himself first. He said he was happy but that he needed to find someone like me who will stand by him when he does “dumb shit.”

I was almost flattered (almost). Until I processed his words. He said “someone like me” and “a woman like me.” He didn’t say me. Having been a ‘tester’ for so many men over the years, I know that’s not what I want to be. For once, I don’t want to meet someone who is looking for someone like me, but is looking for me. The question is: how do I get that to happen?

JB asked me if I’ve given up on him. I told him that we can be friends, but I can’t be with him because I don’t want to keep going in circles like this. This, I told him, is also part of his pattern. That he straightens up for awhile, until he gets bored or until someone shiny walks by and he’s gone. And when he realizes it’s not as rosy over there, he comes back and expects me to be there for him. I told him that I can’t do that anymore. He said that he understands how I feel because he does do that but he’s a good person.

That’s where the conversation ended. A few years ago, I was in a two year relationship with a guy I’ll call HP. JB reminds me a lot of HP. HP was kinds but broke all the time. He had a house but it was one gust of wind away from falling over. I meet him on the bus and he was so not what I was looking for, but decided to give him a try.

He called me the best girlfriend he ever had, but in the two years we were together, but I could say the same about him. HP never once allowed me to meet his family. I was ushered out the door if his mother was coming over that day. Once, he got mad at me because he got lost trying to find my new apartment. (Of course, him getting lost while walking was my fault). After we had been dating for one year, I sprained my ankle while on my way to work. I ran into him on the bus when I was on my way to the ER. Did he get off the bus to help me? No.

The final straw (I know I should have kicked him to the curb then, but…) was when he suggested that I take lessons at a firing range because some people were after him. Now, as a country girl, I already know how to shoot guns but he kept insisting, so I told him that I was done and out. Of course, he couldn’t understand why I was leaving him.

The thing is, I’m not looking for these guys. I happy focusing on myself, taking myself to IHOP for breakfast or Red Robin for lunch and one pops up. Is there some type of repellent that I can get? Or, how do I get off this ride so that Mr. right can get to me and I don’t have to go stand by the Naval Yard like I plan to do if things don’t change soon?

Wednesday, September 21, 2011

When To Let Go...

On my last blog, I revealed how I get my messages from the universe through songs. The songs on replay this week were “How to love” by Lil Wayne and “Holding on” by Wild Orchid (Fergie’s old group).  An odd combination (or maybe not). I didn’t know what the message was about or referring to until yesterday.
Previously, I mentioned that I was talking to an old friend who I’ll call JB. We’ve been on and off again for a long time and now we are back off again. How can an innocent ‘hello’ text from someone blow up into a World War III type crisis? Here’s how:
For the past three days, I’ve been talking to JB, trying to maintain a civil friendship.  And we were cordial.  First let me say that JB is a good guy, or he tries to be. At times, he can be caring and attentive but there is a side of him that always needs to be in control and in the two years we’ve been talking, I have never seen that side, until yesterday.
So, when I got busy and didn’t have time to stop and say ‘hello’ to him, he became upset.  I told him I was busy. Fine.  He asked me if I wanted to go away with him one weekend. I said we could hang out but we weren’t going to have sex during the trip. He blew up and accused me of ‘agreeing’ to his terms previously (his terms were that if I liked him, I’d have sex with him whenever he wanted). To this, I told him that I wasn’t ready for that and if he didn’t like it, the door was on the left
(Let me say that I have already had sex with him, but when I realized that I wanted more, if not from him than someone who was worthy, I put an end to it.  At the time, we both made it clear that we weren’t together, but when I approached him on the subject of being exclusive, he said that he wanted to keep his options open. This is when I put an end to it and stopped talking to him.)
After I told him no during yesterday’s conversation, he showed the side of himself that I’d always suspected was there, but hadn’t seen. He said that if I liked him (like not love him) then there should be no boundaries between us. That he was in control. What he said goes and he was the boss. To his I told him that I don’t like to be controlled and he needed to leave me alone.  He said he wasn’t controlling me but that I needed to be guided. (Huh?) To which I said that I was done. That if he was going to act like this when we were just friend that there was no hope and I was out. He said he didn’t want to lose me, that I was the only woman he trusted and that he didn’t know how to love. He said that he’ll change and apologized for his behavior.
Now, if I had done this to him, he would’ve dropped me faster than I could count, yet, for two years, I’ve allowed him to come in and out of my live to prove (not to me but to him) that he was worthy of love.  As I said once, sometimes lessons are repeated until you get it. Do I give him another chance or is it finally (beyond) time to let go? (of course as I type this, he just sent me a ‘hello’ text. Sigh.)
 Last week, I had a dream about JB. In it, we were on a hill top. The sky was dark and people were rushing around us, preparing for an upcoming disaster. During the chaos, he left and didn’t come back (though he said he would).  A few nights later, I dreamt that the sky was bright and I couldn’t wait to be alone with my dream guy. My dream guy wasn’t JB.
 Perhaps, I’ve been looking for a reason to stay with JB instead of looking for an exit.  So now, a new song is playing in my head : “Should I stay or should I go” by the Clash.

Sunday, September 18, 2011

New Release Love Burns

In this third and final installment of the trilogy, vampire Aria discpvers that she is pregnant. Scorpio is desperate to keep her out of the clutches of the Vampire Council. But will a secret keep them apart forever?


Aria gazed at the Pacific surf that crashed against the rocks below her terrace while she drained her bottle of blood. This was her favorite time of night, 3 AM. The moon hung low in the dark blue sky. And the wind blew her long, black hair around her ebony shoulders as a sudden wave of desire washed over her. It was the kind of sexy night that made her want to do something reckless. Anything was possible since she was married to one of the most powerful vampires in the world, Scorpio Stansakopolis

Wanna play a game?

Scorpio’s telepathic voice was so low that she wasn’t sure if she’ d heard him at first; though his words suggested that he had read her thoughts. Aria slowly turned from the balcony railing, preferring to gaze at him than the Pacific surf. His long, chestnut hair circled his bare, muscular chest and shoulders, where his olive-hued skin still glistened from the heat of the shower. From where she stood, she could smell the sandalwood scent of the soap he had used. Both the sight and scent made her dizzy with desire.

He leaned casually against the doorframe that separated the balcony from the sleeping chamber. His steely blue gaze washed over her ebony skin like mist, causing her dark nipples to strain against the almost transparent gown she wore. A beige towel was wrapped around his waist. Scorpio looked like the Greek God he was, or rather, the Greek Master vampire that he was. Aria inhaled a shaky breath.
What kind of game? she asked with caution.

Never ask a Master that.

His wicked smile caused her breath to hitch and told her all that she needed to know. Who knew what this vampire had up his sleeve. When, from behind his back, he produced a blindfold, Aria was momentarily taken aback. A blindfold? She thought he would’ve been more creative than that. Given the way that he had made love to her for the last twenty hours straight.

It’s not for you.

She frowned and crossed her arms over her chest. Then who’s it for?

With the snap of his fingers, his bodyguards brought a bound-and-gagged Barista into the chambers and deposited him in the center of the room. The Italian vampire squirmed in his wooden chair, yelling muffled curses at the bodyguards and Scorpio. With eyes wide, she looked at Scorpio. Her husband hated him, and so did she. Aria was surprised at his choice. She had expected another female vamp, not his rival. Scorpio had told her that the Vampire Council had asked Barista to keep tabs on her husband, but why?
Since she and Scorpio had gotten together on a steamy Halloween night, Barista had been trailing and keeping tabs on them. Aria wasn’t sure why, and Scorpio was keeping his mouth closed. She guessed it may have something to do with the fact that she could still produce a child, despite being a vampire, and perhaps, the Council had gotten wind of this news. That was her fear, and she hoped that it wasn’t so.
Returning from her thoughts, Aria gasped as Scorpio dangled the blindfold from his fingers.

“Scorpio,” she protested aloud. “What…?”

With vamp speed, he closed the distance between them and silenced her question by placing his index finger over her lips. As he kissed her, he passed the blindfold to one of the guards, who tied it around the vampire’s eyes before disappearing. Scorpio pulled away to lead her into the chamber by her hand.
Barista was asked by the Vampire Council to record our transaction. This is the only way I could think of to allow that to happen. Plus, it will be fun.

She raised an eyebrow. Fun for whom?

Why, she wondered, did the Council need their lovemaking on record? And why was she going along with this? Truth be told, he could’ve suggested anything and she would’ve tried it at least once, including her previous thought of a three-way with a female vampire.

Maybe next time…

Scorpio’s velvety baritone entered her mind smoothly as he unknotted his towel and let the soft cotton flutter to the floor. He pushed her down onto Barista’s lap. Her mouth watered when she spied his cock, nestled in his curly, brown pubic hair. He was thick and long, the way she liked it. Without prompting, she brought him to her lips and slid her tongue over the tip of his cock.

Wednesday, July 13, 2011

Sneak Peak of The Caged Phoenix

This is a brand new story that I've been working on. The Caged Phoenix is about a dying vampire Count Cairo and his unrequited love for a phoenix named Lily. It will be a hot, interracial romance. It doesn't have a home yet, nor is it finished, but will let you know once it does...

Istanbul was beautiful at three o’clock in the morning. The silver moonlight reflected off of the black waters of the sea. The dark sky blended in to the waters, draping the horizon in a sheet of black. The streets around the Turkish lair were quiet. Only the sound of a distant barking dog, broke the silence of the peaceful scene. As he studied the landscape, Cairo was anything but serene on the inside. On the outside, he looked like the tranquil, two hundred year old vampire that he seemed to be. His dark hair hung to his broad shoulders in waves, framing his pale skin and green eyes. An unbuttoned black silk shirt and black silk pant covered his athletic frame.
            He’d build this seaside lair in his youth, after he was turned into a vampire. In its prime, the castle was host to many parties. Not anymore. This sixteen room castle was boring and empty to him now. Cairo looked down at the goblet he held in his hand, unable to finish his snack of type o blood, and tossed it over the railing. He turned and walked back inside his lair before he heard the crystal shatter against the ebony rocks. What he needed was a distraction from his thoughts and clapped his hands.  The guard brought in a belly dancer for his entertainment.
            As the dancers hips moved in rhythm to the sitar, Cairo yawned. That back and forth motion of her creamy caramel sinew should’ve hypnotized him but she didn’t. Her gold and red sarong and matching bra framed the area of her torso that he should’ve bitten by now, but he wasn’t even thirsty for her blood. Her long, coffee hair swayed just above her hip line as she turned her back to him and arched backward to peer at him. Cairo breathed in slowly. While she was breathtaking, she’d just be a plaything and nothing more. After one night, he’d just toss her aside like a pile of dirty clothing. He bitterly spit on the ground, causing the dancer to stop, confused as to his sudden mood change.
            His guards quickly ushered the dancer from the room as the music continued to play. The next dancer was rushed in to please him, but he wasn’t. While this one had the high round breasts that beg him to hold them like oranges, he just wasn’t aroused. Cairo closed his eyes.  Behind his closed lids, his mind and body were back in Paris, not in his Istanbul lair. He was seated at his usual table in the back of the upscale club, l'cage de Phoenix, The Caged Phoenix.  The red velvet curtains parted and there she was.
            Cairo whispered the name of the dancer in his fantasy. Lily. For the past twenty years, he’d watched her undulate her hips to the beat of the conga drums and for twenty years he’d tried, and failed, to find someone to replace that image. Opening his eyes, he looked at the dancer before him with disgust and dismissed her with a wave of his hand. Troubled, Cairo moved through his lair toward his sleeping chambers.  Damn it, he scolded himself. He was acting like a love sick teenager, not the handsome vampire who could have any woman in the world that he was. Frowning, he accepted a goblet of blood from his servant before going into his chamber and slamming the door closed.  
            With a sigh, he sat heavily on his king-sized bed but it was too early to sleep. Plus, Lily’s image still played behind his eyelids. Her dark chocolate skin glistened beneath the lights of the stage. Her long, black hair hung to her waist in waves. High, full breasts that he longed to touch his lips to, swayed gently with every swivel of her hips. Enchanting was the word to describe her. Though he’s watched her perform for years, he has yet to work up the nerve to talk to her. Cairo has sent her gifts anonymously; costumes, flowers, perfume, and candy yet whenever he approached her, words failed him.
            Setting his goblet on the nightstand, he reclined on the soft, black bed linens. Oh, how he wished that she were here with him. Maybe one day. Cairo ran the palms of his hand down the length of his face. This was beyond frustrating. He was a vampire, for Satan’s sake, and could have any woman in the world at the snap of his fingers. But, no, he was smitten with a phoenix. He laced his fingers behind his head and stared at the blank ceiling. It was her scent that gave her away.  While it was not forbidden for a vampire to mate with a phoenix, the fiery bird’s powers could be harvested by a vampire’s bite and used to take over the world. Contrary to belief, vampires weren’t immortal. Only the blood of a phoenix would give them eternal life.
            Cairo was nearing the end of his life and not because of natural causes. But, because of a disease he had contracted due to consuming tainted blood.  His breath became shallow at the thought of death. He had no intentions on harvesting Lily’s power. Just her body.  Would she trust him enough to let him get close to her? No, he thought. And so, he would continue to admire her from a far. Besides, he chuckled to himself as he rose from the bed to strip off his clothing and climb between the sheets, he wasn’t looking for a mate. He’d been doing just fine as a single vampire.  A woman would complicate his lifestyle of travelling and gambling.
            However, he thought as he began to cough, this illness wouldn’t let him do that anymore. He was castle ridden. His teleport was spotty at best and he didn’t have the energy to do any of the things he once loved. Cairo leaned over the side of the mattress and dry-heaved. Three months. That was all the time that he had left of his life. While he had wanted someone to share the last of his days with, the only woman he wanted to share them with was Lily. It had been months since he’d seen her and he missed her.
            He closed his eyes but opened them with a start when a new thought popped into his head. What if some other vampire or human claimed Lily before he could?  Turning onto his side, he pounded his pillow with his fist as the steel shades covered the windows. That settled it, he huffed as he laid back down. At dusk, Cairo was going to Paris to claim her before it was too late.

Nocturne is Cover of the Week on IRMC Books!

Was offline due to obligations, so I couldn't announce this them, but Nocturne won for cover of the week at IRMCbooks. com. Thank you all who voted!

Friday, July 1, 2011

Please vote for me!

The cover for my book Nocturne has been nominated for Cover of the week by IRMC books.
Please vote for me here :

Thursday, June 30, 2011

Sneak peek : Love Burns

I've handed in three stories in less than three weeks. I was supposed to be taking a break, but no. My characters won't leave me alone. And so, I wanted to give you a sneak peek of my new WIPs, work in progress. First up, is Love Burns. The final installment of the series featuring vampires Scorpio and Aria. This will be published by Cobblestone Press. The first two Love Bleeds and Love Bites are already available and can be purchased here.  Enjoy.

“What was that about,” Aria asked Scorpio at breakfast the next evening.
            He was sitting at the table, pretending to read the vampire newspaper when she asked her, seemingly innocent question.  Glancing over the pages at her, he viewed her tousled onyx hair, ebony skin, and dark eyes before returning his gaze to the periodical.
            “Last night, Scorpio. Why did Barista have to record us for the council?”
            Scorpio shuffled the page and moved it up slightly to hide his face. How could he tell her that the vampire council had given him living sperm and coerced him to make love to her in an attempt to get her pregnant? He couldn’t which was why he ignored that question too. Having none of it, Aria ripped the paper from his hands and tossed it over her shoulder. Damn, he thought, that turned him on. Picking up his goblet of blood, he swirled the red elixir around before taking a sip.
            “Just wanted to please you,” he said.
            Aria frowned at him. “Please me by having a three some with your mortal enemy? And what this about the council?”
            He sighed as he sat his goblet on the table.  “I can only tell you that we are being investigated by the council.”
            “Something to do with our union. They sent Barista to spy on us to make sure that we’re doing what we’re supposed to be doing.”
            “Which is?”
            Scorpio kissed her. “Making a lot of love.”
            She giggled. What he said was half of the truth. He did want to risk losing her by telling her the whole thing. Pulling her to his chest, he buried his nose in the curve of her neck and inhaled. Her scent was different, lighted. Did it work? Was she…It was too soon to know for sure. Aria leaned away from him and stood.

Monday, June 27, 2011

From the desk of R.W. Shannon: Motivation

From the desk of R.W. Shannon: Motivation: "I wish I could say that I get my messages from God or the universe from a voice or a vision, but I don’t. Instead, I get my messages from so..."


I wish I could say that I get my messages from God or the universe from a voice or a vision, but I don’t. Instead, I get my messages from song lyrics. Every morning, I wake up with a song in my head. Not the whole song, but a snippet of it. Yesterday, I awoke to the lyric “take time to realize,” from Colbie Caillat song Realize. Now, I’m not a fan of hers, so I’ve only heard that song at the grocery store. Plus, there was really no other reason for that lyric to be inside my soul unless it’s a lesson that I’m supposed to learn.
What I’ve notice over the years is that if I don’t learn that lesson, it repeats it’s self until I do. Before the ‘realize’ lesson, Motivation by Kelly Rowland was stuck in my head. Not the whole song on the lyric that goes, “baby, I’m gonna be your motivation.” That lyric stayed in my head for a week. What am I to be motivated about? Who is my motivation? I couldn’t get it. I still don’t until the ‘realize’ lyric.
You see, I’ve been stuck for a while. Things have happened that prevented me from taking even one step in the direction that I want to move it. It’s hard to do your life’s work when you can’t even afford to attend to your personal needs. So, I had to be creative. Since I can’t get a job right now to help me (believe me, I tried). I’ll have to do what I was born to do : write. But, it’s hard to be an eBook writer when you can’t afford to keep the internet turned on and have no gas to make a run to the library every week. (I live in the mountains so, I can’t even walk there.)
And that’s when it clicked. This space that I call being stuck is to be my motivation to get to the place I need to be. With the motivation, I need to realize what I have to offer and do that instead of trying to do something that I have no business doing.
This morning, I woke up to “somebody’s sleeping in my bed,” from Dru Hill. Since I’m single, unless there’s a ghost sleeping with me, it’s not literal. My guess is that the bed I’m supposed to be sleeping in is being occupied by someone who is not supposed to be there. Because of that, I’m going to have to be single until they finally get the hint and move. So, if that’s you, please get out of my spot so that I can finally get that song out of my head and lay down. Thank you.

Monday, June 13, 2011

Life Lesson : Humility

Ever feel like you’re on the verge of something great. That one shift of the wind is all that it’ll take to put you on the track to prominence?  This is when the universe tests if you’ve learned the art of humility, the quality of being modest or respectful.
I found that out the hard way a few years ago. I had prided myself on never having a broken bone. One day, I was reflecting on how happy I was to finally be moving from the place that I was living in at the time. I stepped off the bus wrong and, yes, sprained my ankle.
That wasn’t the worst part. On the second bus, as I was on my way to the ER, I ran into the guy that I was dating at the time. Did he get off the bus to help me? No.  I broke up with him the next day and he didn’t seem to understand why.
I’m reminded of this recently. No, I haven’t bragged about anything but I wonder if I’m applying this practice to EVERY area of my life.  Am I being respectful of what I already have? Why am I praying and asking and yelling about thing that the universe has already granted me?
One of my goals was that I had wanted to work from home. Recently, I looked up and realized that I was doing it. The problem: I forgot to mention that I’d need enough money to cover my bills. Slowly, I watched my saving account drain down to zero and now I wonder if maybe I’m doing this wrong…
But, maybe I’m not. Maybe I’m being challenged to see if I will still be humble of this change when things get rough. Am I willing to stay the course and ride out the storm or will I abandon ship and immediately find another job, when that’s not what I asked for?

Silver Moon - Out Now! (excerpt)

My new release, Silver Moon, is now available from Cobblestone Press. The book follows Sabra, a werewolf, as she's required to choose a mate at the upcoming Silver Moon festival.

Here's an excerpt:

Sabra stooped in order to enter her grandfather’s teepee. The room was easier to enter in wolf form, but she didn’t have time to shift because she had to be back at her office right after the meeting. Besides, she wouldn’t want to shift back into her human form. She’d want to go out onto her grandfather’s property and run, but patients were waiting for her. With an exhale, she sat on a pillow and folded her legs beneath her.

The interior of the triangle-shaped structure was large, though it didn’t look like it from the outside. There was plenty of room for a wolf to roam. A low table sat to her left. On it was his special hand-carved pipe along with three stacks books and several stacks of papers. She shook her head at her grandfather’s messiness, but didn’t complain as she was the same way. A large fire pit took up the center of the floor. Other than a few animal hide pillows that littered the ground around the fire, her grandmother’s contribution, there was no other furniture.

With a nervous shudder, Sabra inhaled the scent of sage leaves that burned in a bowl next to the fire. The leather walls trapped the heat inside and made the room warm and cozy. This was his meeting hut. Her grandparents’ main home was miles away from here, but similarly decorated. She already knew what this meeting was about and wasn’t looking forward to it.

Her grandfather, Chief Black Moon, entered in his wolf form, then stalked around the space. His large body took up much of the area. His beautiful white coat glistened in the firelight as he playfully sniffed her cheek before taking a seat next her. As he sat, he shifted back into his human form. Orange flames now danced off of his dark brown skin and reflected in his brown irises.

He wrapped himself in a hand-woven blanket alive with the red, silver, and black colors of their pack, also her grandmother’s contribution. With a wink in her direction, her grandmother, Black River, poured him a cup of tea before shifting into her brown wolf and leaving the teepee. Sabra inhaled his earthy scent and waited for him to take his first sip of tea before the meeting began. She closed her eyes. The warmth of the space and her grandfather was comforting.

The parents of she and her four brothers were killed by hunters who accused them, falsely, of stealing their cattle. Sabra was only six at the time. Since then, they had been raised by their grandparents. While strict, her grandparents also knew when to remove the leashes and allow them to explore both their wolf and human sides. She loved him so. It upset her that, of all the supernatural species, theirs was not offered immortality—but they did live long lives. She didn’t know what she was going to do when it was their time to go. She didn’t want to think of it now.

The Chief was a healthy, youthful-looking seventy years old. His hair hung in silver dreadlocks that flowed over his muscular shoulders and down his back. She watched his weathered face as he drank his tea. He carefully set the mug on the floor and folded his hands in his lap. Before he could speak, she held up her hand.

“I already know what this is about. It’s time for me to mate.”

She’d been dreading this day since she turned twenty eight months ago. All of her friends had already been chosen. Even her four younger brothers were married and starting their families. She was behind as far as the other members of her pack were concerned, but she was busy with her career as a dentist. Black Moon opened his mouth, but before he could utter any words, she interrupted him again as she leapt to her feet and stalked around the space.

The Silver Moon festival coincided with the first full moon of the new year. At the festival, the male werewolves publicly declared their mate in front of the pack. She wasn’t a piece of meat, which was why she’d avoided the festival like a plague. But now, she couldn’t use her studies or career as an excuse to not go anymore. Her pack was counting on her as the lone alpha female to breed more Alphas. She cringed.
“It’s not fair!” she exploded. “It’s a sexist, archaic system, Grandfather. Why do I have to be mated? I’ve graduated college. I have a career. My own home. I don’t have room or time for a mate.”


She continued ranting as if she hadn’t heard him. “And what makes matters worse is that I don’t even have the right to choose! The male does all the choosing. What if I don’t like him? What if he’s a complete idiot?”
He chuckled. This enraged her further. She turned to him but softened her posture at the twinkle in his eyes. Of course she was being melodramatic, but she was trying to make her point. Maybe she could put it off for a few more years. No. The elders of her pack, including her grandmother, were already sending her daily emails with offers to set her up with one wolf or another. The sooner she got this over with, the better.
“It’s not funny! I know things worked out with you and Grandmother, but this is a different century. It’s time for this practice to die.”

“I agree.”

His quiet statement made her pause. He patted the pillow next to him and waited patiently for her to sit down. After she did, he took her hand. She found herself beginning to calm down as she picked up her mug with her free hand and held it while she waited for her grandfather to speak. Instead of his messiness, she wished she’d inherited his ability to remain calm in the middle of a storm.

“When it’s my time to pass, you’ll be Alpha of the pack. Your mate needs to be strong, confident and able to assist you with your duties.”

“But that’s a long time off,” she whispered.

“Perhaps, but I like to be prepared for anything.”

“That’s what made you a great warrior.”

Squeezing his hand, Sabra laid her head on his strong shoulder. She would love to find a mate like him, but most wolves were jerks. If it weren’t frowned upon, she’d much rather mate with a human. But as Alpha, she’d be expected to breed as soon as she was mated. She shuddered at the thought—she wasn’t ready for kids. At this point in time, she was barely ready for a mate.

“This,” her grandfather continued as he laid he cheek on top of her head, “is why I will bend the rules. Your mate must be equal to you and not want to be with you simply because of your status.”

“I’ll make sure that won’t happen,” she said as she sat her mug on the table.

“As will I.”

“You’re really going to let me choose?”


This made her feel a little better about the situation, but not much. At least her grandfather had her back. Now, she’d just have to find someone worthy of him, and her. She exhaled. That was going to be the hard part. However, this was going to rock her pack’s world when they got wind of what her grandfather proposed.

“What about the elders?”

“They understand my wishes and have agreed with me.” He wrapped his arm around her shoulder. “Do you have a mate in mind?”

Sitting up, she shook her head. “No. I’ve been too busy to look.”

“There’s plenty of time. You’ll know when you meet him.”

He brushed a strand of hair from her forehead. The festival was less than two weeks away. She didn’t even have any prospects to choose from. There was still time to try online dating, but there wasn’t a site for werewolves, and she couldn’t very well put that piece of information in a public profile. Sabra worried that she wouldn’t meet anyone suitable. After her last miserable date two months ago, she’d given up on even looking for a mate. Worry nagged at her. What was she going to do?

Her grandmother appeared with a plate piled with steaming hot corn cakes slathered in butter. Sabra’s mouth watered as she snagged one from the plate and bit into it. She moaned and wished her grandmother would teach her how to cook. Black River refused until Sabra found a mate. After wrapping herself in a throw, her grandmother sat on the other side of her. Sabra’s breath stilled as she sensed a set-up coming.

“When you least expect it,” her grandmother cooed, then kissed Sabra’s forehead, “he’ll show up. The universe just wants to make sure your heart is ready to receive the love it wants to send you.”

“Maybe. But the universe is cutting it pretty close.”

“Perhaps not. Maybe he simply wasn’t ready yet. Maybe he is now.”

Sabra stiffened at her grandmother’s mysterious comment. Aha! At least she was dressed appropriately in her work outfit—red blouse, black slacks and black pumps. She looked around as if her blind date was going to make an appearance at any minute, but relaxed when no one appeared. Doubt pestered her thoughts as she reached for another cake. Was she really that busy with her career to meet someone?

“What if I never find him?”

“You will. I have faith,” Chief Black Moon said.

Her grandfather stood. In one deft move, he stripped off his blanket and shifted back into his wolf. Her grandmother draped an arm around her shoulder. With a final kiss, she, too, stripped off her covering, shifted and followed her husband from the teepee. Admiration swept through her as she watched them. Would she ever find love like that? Climbing to her feet, she filed the thought into the back of her mind. She fished the keys to her SUV out of her coat pocket as she walked toward it. Right now, she’d just settle for a booty call.
Also, my other books; Pink Cashmere, Love Bites and Love Bleeds, are still available from them. And Nocturne, published by Beautiful Trouble Publishing, is still available from Amazon, Beautiful Trouble Publishing and All Romance eBooks.

I will have an exciting new series that will be excusively pubished through All Romance eBooks so. Please stary tuned for details...

Thursday, April 21, 2011

Excerpt of new release : Nocturne

Here's a sneak peek at my just released book Nocturne from Beautiful Trouble Publishing:

Nella sat in a ball in the center of her empty bedroom, rocking back and forth. Thoughts assaulted her mind like bullets. She was a vampire. She was about to meet her father for the first time. Her mother was in Hell. This was all too much for her to handle, and, honestly, didn’t want to. She wanted to go back to bed and start this day all over again, but that wasn’t possible.
Finally, after what seemed like days, she rose. Annoyed, she wondered what to do. Her mother had said her father was coming to collect her, so where was he? Refusing to cry, she wandered the empty hall of her home. Finding herself in the living room, she sunk into her mother’s favorite armchair.
 “Oh, God,” she cried out.
Again, pain gripped her muscles when she said the words. She’d have to reprogram her mind because she was a vampire now.  The horror of the realization that she couldn’t say the sacred names she’d learned in church made her ill. Jumping up, she rushed into the bathroom and vomited. She’d have to spend the rest of her life drinking blood? Eww! But then, she already had, and it wasn’t all that horrible.
She stumbled to the sink to splash cold water on her face. When she lifted her head, she didn’t see a reflection. Great. Now how was she going to check her hair out? Or make sure her outfit didn’t make her look fat? Lazarus popped into her head. Had he known? Why hadn’t he warned her?
Nella found her way back into her bedroom and to her window, where she flung back the curtains. Sure enough, the Jag was parked across the street.  She didn’t see him; however she did feel him. His presence wrapped around her body like mist. It made her want to strip and be bad. She could now, being she was a vampire and all. After raising the window, she waved at the car’s dark, tinted windows and motioned for him to come over.
Running her hands through her hair, she turned to unlock the front door so he could come in but stopped. Someone was calling her… in her head.  Clearly hearing someone call her name, she turned back toward the window, thinking it was Lazarus. It wasn’t. This call was erotic and caused her nipples to strain against her shirt. She closed her eyes, letting the call wash over her like a breeze as a third call, then a fourth call, entered her mind.  Each one competed to be heard over the others.
Nella grasped the buttons of her shirt between her fingers and slowly unbuttoned each one. Hissing in response to the calls, she let the material fall to the floor. Her fangs ripped through her gums, and she moaned as the calls intensified. She hooked her fingers in the clasp of her pink bra, ready to pull it off. Suddenly, something covered her chest. When she opened her eyes, Lazarus held his jacket against her.
“That’s one way to get kidnapped,” he said.
“If you’re the one doing it, I’d go willingly.”
She didn’t recognize the husky voice that escaped from her mouth but made no attempt to cover up as she hung out of the window to touch one of his soft dreads.  Slowly, she ran her fingers up the shaft to the root and down to the tip. When he quivered, she chuckled, but realized he made no effort to move away.
“Stop it.”
“You don’t understand what you’re doing, ma.”
“I think I do.”
She suddenly kissed him hard on his lips while she twirled the silky rope around her fingers. He leaned away before she could deepen the kiss and carefully removed his hair from her grasp. Pouting, she clutched his jacket to her chest as though it was his body as she slowly regained her composure.
“They were trying to draw you out with a mating call. That wasn’t fair. Especially for a new turn who’s also a master’s daughter.” He paused, turning to address something, or someone, in the invisible night. “Rest assured that I will handle it.”
She blinked as the calls stopped and the fog began to lift. Master’s daughter? Mating call? He nodded, and she stepped back from the window. That meant that he knew. He nodded again.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“It wasn’t my place. It was family business.”
She should’ve been angrier, but she wasn’t. He was right. Turning her back, she picked up her shirt and paused.  She didn’t know how she was going to put it on without lowering the jacket. That simple dilemma shouldn’t have set her off, but it did, and tears streamed down her cheeks.
“Nella,” he said.
She turned back to the window. “You know my father?”
“Is he here?”
She wiped her nose with the back of her hand. “All this time…you weren’t interested in me. You were watching me for my father.”
“Yes and no. Your pop asked me to watch you, but that wasn’t why I kissed you. Look, ma. You’d better meet him and talk to him before we have this convo.”
“Okay,” she said, although she didn’t feel much better.
“Put on your shirt. I’ll get your pop and meet you at the front door.”
When he left the window, she laid the jacket on her bed and put on her shirt. His scent hit her nose as she picked up his leather jacket. She inhaled deeply. The metallic sandalwood scent caused her fangs to lengthen. In a daze she walked toward the front door, still holding his jacket to her nose. She knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that she wanted him. Tonight. His tall frame filled the glass in the oak door. She flung it open and stared up into his blue eyes, and he flinched as if she had hit him. When he licked his full lips, it took everything within her not to kiss him again. He’d changed from his suit into a red polo shirt and black cargo shorts with black boots.
“Hey,” she said, suddenly nervous, though he’d already seen her almost naked.
“What’s up, ma?”
Her lips began to quiver. His simple question reduced her to rubble.  Suddenly his arms were around her. He pulled her to his chest and stroked her back while she cried. She was such a dork. Here she was, bawling like a baby in front of this big, strong vampire.
“Don’t worry about it. A lot’s happened in a short time. This would’ve reduced anyone to tears.”
“You’ve got to stop reading my mind.”
“Naw. It might come in handy one day.” He chuckled.
She giggled. Leaning away but not leaving his arms, she looked up at him. He wiped away the remaining tears from her eyes with the pad of his thumb.
“You ready to meet your pop?”
“No. I look a mess.”
“You look beautiful. He’s cool. You’ll like him.”
When he dropped his arms, she took a deep breath, trying to calm the swirl of emotions that raged inside of her. She nodded, and Lazarus stepped aside. A tall, thin man wearing an expertly tailored dark suit stood behind him. Nella gasped. Her father’s face was too soft to be that of a vampire. He had her amber eyes, and her high cheekbones. “Dad,” she whispered, afraid to say the word out loud.
When he nodded, she burrowed into his arms, knocking him off the top step and onto the second. She buried her face in his chest and covered it with tears. For so long, she’d dreamt of this moment, and now it was here. She had a dad—a real live father. He kissed her on the top of her head. She had questions, a lot of questions, but for now, she was content to be in his arms.