Release Day for The Cowboys of Clark’s Folly – Yeehaw!


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Boots, hats and old saddles…four novellas by four authors of different romantic fiction, all focused on love and romance with, perhaps, a bit of lust thrown in for good measure, ahem, make that good time!  Available from Gilded Dragonfly Books at


Saturday’s Child


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I forgot the rest of the rhyme…oh well.

I’m looking forward to celebrating a friend’s birthday in Kemah today at a nice indoor/outdoor restaurant on the water.  I have that Margaritaville feeling!  I love sitting by the water.  I would post her birthday present here, but she might drop by and spoil the surprise…  🙂

Until 3:30 this afternoon – Departure time, I’ll be working on my galley for The Cowboys of Clark’s Folly, an anthology of four novellas about an imaginary town in Texas and the cowboys who live, lust and love in Clark’s Folly. Ride ’em, Cowgirl! Available April 16th on Amazon as an eBook. Print book to follow.Preorder your copy now!

The American Civil War – The Way the Brits Saw It by Linda Nightingale ~ New Release: Her General in Gray

Author Alicia Dean

Please help me welcome fellow AHA author, Linda Nightingale, with an intersting article & a new release!

The American Civil War – The Way the Brits Saw It

Brit’s Eye View:  The Northern States denied the right of secession, claiming that the union was a “federal” one, in which case the attempt at separation is rebellion. The Southern States claimed that the Union was a “confederation” from which any member is entitled to separate itself. The British Government under Henry John Temple (3rd Viscount Palmerston) declined to judge between them.

Yet, popular sentiment was passionately divided. The violent feelings against slavery won many to the Union cause, but the political advocacy of the right of self-government won sympathy for the Confederacy from many another. Since the South fought against heavy odds, the sporting British people were drawn to the Confederacy.

Palmerston’s government was determined to maintain a strict…

View original post 633 more words

Bed of My Truck by Megan Slayer


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GENRE: Contemporary LGBT Romance, Erotic



The one Carson never thought he’d see again could be the one to save his life.

Carson never expected to see his dog or a man from his past ever again. His ex took Dragon when he left, then carelessly lost the dog.  Dragon’s been found and in the last place Carson expected to find him—a vet’s office.

But, the surprises just keep coming.

Carson hasn’t seen Alec since school, but the feelings he had for the man haven’t abated.

When he’s reunited with Alec at the veterinary office, Carson’s got to face his feelings.

Includes scenes of spanking, oral sex, anal sex and male-male sex.




Copyright© 2017 Megan Slayer

The vet turned around and smiled. “You must be Carson Welles. It’s nice to see you.”

I clamped my teeth together to keep from drooling. Eyes the color of the ocean, just enough scruff on his cheeks to cause a light burn during a kiss and those lips. Good thing I had the dog to shield me. I had to get myself under control or he’d call the cops for indecency.

He stuck out his hand. “I assume you can talk.”

I shook my head. “No—I mean, yes I can talk.” My skin crawled. The last man who got to me was my ex, Leon. Fuck. This guy had me forgetting the very manners Mama took years to instill in me.

“I’m glad we got Dragon, here, in when we did. He’s malnourished and needs a dental cleaning.” Dr. Niemi hiked one side of Drag’s jowls up. “He’s been chewing on things he shouldn’t have. I’d like him to come back in for a cleaning and to make sure he’s up to date on his shots. Can you tell me why he was loose?”

I stared at the vet, deciphering his words. I knew he’d spoken English, but I felt so out of sorts. Cleaning… shots… why was he loose? Oh, hell. “My ex took him when we split. Leon wasn’t much for closing doors or gates. My guess is Drag saw an open door and made a break for it. He doesn’t mind being confined if he’s got something to eat or a chew toy to attack.”


Megan Slayer, aka Wendi Zwaduk, is a multi-published, award-winning author of more than one-hundred short stories and novels. She’s been writing since 2008 and published since 2009. Her stories range from the contemporary and paranormal to LGBTQ and BDSM themes. No matter what the length, her works are always hot, but with a lot of heart. She enjoys giving her characters a second chance at love, no matter what the form. She’s been the runner up in the Kink Category at Love Romances Café as well as nominated at the LRC for best author, best contemporary, best ménage and best anthology. Her books have made it to the bestseller lists on

When she’s not writing, Megan spends time with her husband and son as well as three dogs and three cats. She enjoys art, music and racing, but football is her sport of choice. Find out more about Megan and Wendi at:



Fan Page,

Amazon Author Page,






Megan will be awarding a $10 Amazon or B/N GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour.    a Rafflecopter giveaway



The Last Mayor’s Son by Leslie E. Heath


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CarbonLab joomla 1.7 Template Today, Linda is interviewing Leslie.  Oh dear!

What is your greatest temptation:

            In men: I’m a sucker for a man in uniform. That works well, since my husband spent more than twenty years in the Navy.

            In food: Cheese! I know it’s bad for me, but I’ll put cheese on absolutely everything, the more, the better.

            In clothes: Comfort and ease of use are my biggest requirements. If I have to iron it, I won’t buy it. I prefer dresses because they’re simple, comfortable, and look great, too.

What is your greatest weakness (example: buying shoes)?

I adore scarves. I probably have a hundred of them, and I’m forever buying more. I love how you can totally change an outfit by adding a scarf.

If you could have any kind of car, what would it be?

Hmm. That’s a tough one. Probably a convertible Mini Cooper. Those are so cute and zippy, I think they would be fun to drive.

Your dream home – mountains or ocean?

Ocean. I’ve lived near various oceans for the past eighteen years, and I can’t imagine a life where I can’t lose myself in the music of the waves and gulls whenever I wish. Even in the winter, the salt air soothes my soul and feeds my creative mind.

What inspired you to become a writer?

I’ve always loved to make up characters and imagine grand adventures for them. When I was a child, I made up thousands of stories for my dolls and stuffed animals, and that translated easily to writing when I got older.

Do you have a daily writing routine?  If so, please share.

I wish I did. I try to make time to write at least a scene a day, but my schedule is erratic at best. I’m a night shift nurse by trade, so some days I’m simply too exhausted to write. I usually manage at least five thousand words a week most of the time, though.

What is your favorite book?

The Mistborn Series by Brandon Sanderson. If I had to choose only one book, it would be the first in that series, The Final Empire. I’ve read all of them at least a dozen times, and I find something new every time.

What is your favorite movie?

Ok, I’ll admit it – I’m a Tolkien nerd. My favorite movie(s) of all time is the Lord of the Rings Trilogy. I can watch them back to back for days and never tire of it.

Who is your favorite historical figure?

I’d have to say Charlemagne. During his rule, he embodied nearly every type of ruler you can imagine, from the strictest Christian emperor to the leader of the Italian Renaissance. He united much of modern-day Europe under one government, though most of that was accomplished through violent, war-mongering means. The more I study the man, the more interesting I find him and the history of his rule.

In your books, who is your favorite hero and please introduce him?

Aibek is a twenty-year-old military cadet when he is summoned back to the village of his birth. Raised by his aunt and uncle in the city, he is desperate for word of his parents and the home he’s never known. Returning isn’t easy, though. He learns that his parents are dead, and now he is expected to step into his father’s role as the mayor as the small treetop village – a challenge for someone who grew up in the shadow of an overbearing uncle on a treeless plain.

Who is your favorite heroine and please introduce her?

Kiri is Aibek’s mother, or rather, her ghost. She’s just as strong-willed as she was in life, and now she has the added task of keeping her husband, Eddrick, in line. After he gets them in trouble with the ancients, she realizes this will be a more difficult task than she had anticipated.

What do you have out now?  Excerpt, blurb, book trailers

The Last Mayor’s Son was published by Class Act Books in December 2016.


Twenty years after the death of his parents, Aibek must return to the forest and lead his hometown to freedom.

Villagers summon him to be their new mayor after they overthrow the small group of soldiers the ruthless Helak appointed to rule them. They need someone to help them fight off the army that seeks to regain the enemy’s brutal control. Aibek has no problem with standing and fighting. It’s the leading that has him concerned.

Distracted by the problem of teaching a placid people to defend themselves, Aibek nearly overlooks a plot to overthrow the fledgling government. Will he figure out who in the village wants him gone before it’s too late?

As he struggles to learn to lead his hometown, Aibek’s confidence is bolstered by the closeness of the community and his parents’ friends, but will he find the courage to lead his people to freedom? Or will Helak forever rule the peaceful forest?


Aibek considered the implications as they walked between the scattered trees and into the forest. Why would the market road be abandoned? This led to another question in his mind. What kinds of things would the tree-dwelling villagers have to sell at market? He didn’t have long to wonder before the trees grew closer together and they stepped into the gloom of the forest.

At the edges of the trail, the trees and brush grew close and thick, obscuring most of the light from the bright sun above. Aibek stood blinking just inside the eaves of the forest for a moment, and waited for his eyes to adjust to the sudden dimness.

“We’ll move slower from here.” Serik gave a warning. “We need to watch where we set our feet. Beware of snakes on the path.”

Aibek cringed and leaned over to peek under the nearest bush, then stifled a relieved sigh. Nothing but brown leaves and a few beetles. He hadn’t even considered the dangers that might lurk within the woods. He wondered what Faruz thought of the warning, but couldn’t read any reaction on his face. Faruz was staring at a small branch that lay across the trail, perhaps wondering if it was a snake.

Aibek didn’t spend much time thinking of his friend. He was so nervous about returning to the village of his birth that he was more than a little afraid he might lose his breakfast. He took a deep breath to steady his nerves, and thought he rather liked the earthy scent of the forest. He glanced around at the trees and brush, and thought he saw something move quickly behind a bush. He squinted into the dim forest, but whatever it was had been too fast. He could see nothing but the leaves swaying gently in the warm breeze.

Available on Amazon at

Or from Class Act Books at

New releases anytime soon?  The sequel to The Last Mayor’s Son will likely be released by the end of 2017

Where can eager fans find you?  On my website at

On Facebook at

On Twitter at

Thank you, Leslie, for a fun interview and your candor. Your book sounds well worth a read!  All the best!!  Linda



Between Heaven and Hell by David Burnett


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GENRE: Paranormal Romance


When Adryel follows Lucifer in his rebellion, she loses Ramael, the one she loves, and everything else she holds dear. How can he still love her when, as the Mistress of Hell, she has done more to thwart Adonai’s plan for humanity than all the other fallen angels combined?


“The council is in session,” Uriel repeated as Adryel took her seat. “Each of you will find a book on the table in front of you. As its title indicates, it contains a plan for creation of…well, we’ll see what is to be created. In any case, Adonai wishes to implement the plan, and he solicits your advice and counsel before he proceeds.”

“The plan is not long, as you can see,” Uriel said. “We’ll read it now.”


Lucifer flipped toward the back of the book. “On the twenty-fourth page we find an extended discussion of one of these creatures, the one called human.” A look of distaste blanketed his features and his eyes narrowed. “I find the plan for this creature to be most disturbing.”

Michael sat up and leaned forward, resting his forearm on the table. “Why so? What disturbs you?”

Lucifer’s finger ran down the page, stopping halfway. “The humans will have no predisposition to do what is good.

“In the fifth paragraph…The human creatures will be predisposed to do neither good nor evil,” he read, then gazed around the table.

“Our nature is to do good, but the humans will be different. Their nature will be…variable.” As he shrugged, indicating he could be no more specific, his eyes lit up, as if an idea had just occurred to him. An evil smile crossed his face. “Perhaps this will help.”

Lucifer reached into the pocket of his robe and withdrew the wooden disk. “See this disk? On one side, there is an X. On the other, we find an O, a circle.”

He flipped the disk into the air and it landed on the table, bouncing twice, ending with the side bearing the X facing up.

“Surely, Lucifer, you don’t mean…”

“I mean this…Suppose I were one of these human creatures.” He visibly shivered as he spoke. “Further suppose that I were to encounter a beautiful female…such as our secretary,” he nodded toward Adryel, “walking in the palace garden early in the evening.”

All eyes turned to her. She could feel her face growing warm and she dropped her eyes.

“I do not mean to embarrass her, but suppose I encountered her as I said…what might I do?” He paused, stroking his chin as if deep in thought. “Now, it is my nature to do good, so I would wish her a good evening. If I were human, though, with no such predisposition, what would determine my behavior?”

He tossed the disk again. This time, the large O was visible.

“I can do good, or I can do evil. An X or an O. Adryel, what are the odds I would do good? You know the answer.”

After a long pause, Adryel turned to Lord Lucifer. “In the absence of any other influence, the likelihood of good behavior is one of two. Half of the time you would do good.”

“Circle, I wish you a good evening. X, I ravish you.”

AUTHOR Bio and Links:

The Battery, Charleston, South Carolina



We recently moved to our new home near Charleston, South Carolina. Three of my four books are set in Charleston, and I’ve always enjoyed the Carolina beaches. I now have the opportunity to walk on the beach almost every day and to photography the ocean, the sea birds, and the marshes that I love.

I love photography, and I have photographed subjects as varied as prehistoric ruins on the islands of Scotland, star trails, sea gulls, and a Native American powwow. My wife and I have traveled widely in the United States and the United Kingdom. During trips to Scotland, we visited Crathes Castle, the ancestral home of the Burnett family near Aberdeen, and Kismul Castle on Barra, the home of my McNeil ancestors.

I went to school for much longer than I want to admit, and I have degrees in psychology and education. In an “earlier life” I was director of research for our state’s education department.

The book is on sale for $0.99 during the tour.





Amazon Author Page



David will be awarding a $15 Amazon or B/N GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. 

a Rafflecopter giveaway


Cowboys and Confederate Generals – What’s Not to Love?


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This month I’m celebrating two new releases, one from The Wild Rose Press:

Autumn Hartley purchases Allen Hall at a steal, but the northern lass gets far more than a beautiful plantation in the South Carolina Low Country. The house comes complete with its own ghost, a handsome and charming Civil War General—for the Confederacy. The stage is set for another civil conflict.

John Sibley Allen died in battle from a wound in the back, the bullet fired by the turncoat, Beauregard Dudley. The traitor’s reincarnation is Autumn the Interloper’s first dinner guest. Sib bedevils her date and annoys her with fleeting, phantom touches, certain he can frighten her away as he did previous purchasers. As time marches on, her resident ghost becomes more appealing while her suitor, Beau, pales in comparison. Autumn finds her ability to love didn’t perish in the divorce that sent her south seeking a fresh start.

After over a century in the hereafter, Sib discovers he is falling for none other than the feisty Yankee girl, but what future could a modern woman and an old-fashioned ghost possibly hope for?


Cowboys!! The Cowboys of Clark’s Folly from Gilded Dragonfly Publishing. Welcome to Clark’s Folly, Texas, a town where you will find cowboys to lust over. Each of the four novellas will make you fall in love. The cowboys are tough, but so are the women who tame them.If you love Cowboys, you don’t want to miss these sexy, sensual stories. Take a fantasy trip to Texas and find the cowboy of your dreams.

Michael D. Smith – CommWealth


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What is your greatest temptation:

            In women:

I’m still trying to figure out how to get out of answering this question, but my best bet—which also is clever marketing genius on my part, inserting my novel into the first question–is to look at my comically anti-heroic and extremely acquisitive Allan in CommWealth and his puerile fascination with the model Erica:

The front door opened to his ring. “Well… Allan,” Erica Thora said stiffly.

God, she’s a piece! Does she know exactly how much of a bastard I am? Guess the news is everywhere by now!

“Hey… yeah… is Richard in?”

“He’s in the living room. Look, it’s almost eight. I’ll be late for my tryout if I don’t get a move on.”

Allan sidled in. Okay, so she’s pissed. I admit the whole deal looks bad.

Erica stood six feet tall, with short dark hair, a round face, thick and kissable lips, deep brown eyes. She wore a tight red sweater outlining her enormous sensuous knockers. And tight black pants. Wasp-waisted to boot. A model. Allan couldn’t help but look her over. She put on a tight leather jacket, breasts thrusting everywhere, and zipped it up.

God, she’s fantastic! Richard’s so lucky!

            In food:

A huge plate of nachos with guacamole and jalapeños, and two very large and salty margaritas. Of course, I can’t remember the last time I had either of those.

            In clothes:

Are you kidding? I’m a guy. I just cover myself properly in public. Although maybe someday I’ll get a great big gray military-looking overcoat; I’ve always wanted one.

 What is your greatest weakness (example: like mine cars)?

I hope this isn’t one of those job interview questions where you try spin your weakness into something you think will be of great advantage to your prospective employer, as in: “My weakness is that I write every night and produce novel and after novel after novel and I just can’t seem to stop …”

A weakness is the form of temptation/obsession to acquire might be flashlights, clocks, and wrenches. Don’t ask me why. I’ve learned to not buy these when I see them.

If you could have any kind of car, what would it be?

A 1973 VW Beetle engineered to 2017 standards, but still looking identical to 1973. It would be red-orange. Surely automotive engineers could do that if they really wanted to.

Your dream home – mountains or ocean?

Ocean, on the beach, with a disposable house on stilts which could be abandoned in the face of a hurricane. It would have minimal replaceable furnishings. I’d probably have one of my favorite paintings in there, but it would be small enough that I could stash it in the back seat of my 2017 1973 VW in the event of apocalyptic weather.

 What inspired you to become a writer? To write this book?

1950’s Grade B science fiction movies got me started in the second grade. Then fifth grade assignments to write short stories, based on the current week’s list of a dozen new words to master, really sparked an upsurge in creativity. But in high school the movie 2001 floored me and inspired me to take the writing much more seriously than I had before.

CommWealth came from a long detailed dream. I labeled the anti-hero “Allan Larson” in my initial write-up of the dream the next day, though of course it was the dream “I” experiencing this bizarre plot. Allan/me was thus demonstrating from the start his easy adaptation to the property-less society as he requested every object that struck his fancy and hauled it all back to the mansion he’d booted someone else out of. The dream was so complete and compelling that the first draft rolled out effortlessly.

 Do you have a daily writing routine? If so, please share.

If possible I prefer to work in the morning, especially for rough draft work, as I’m freshest then. A session of two to three hours is ideal. All other writing takes place in the evening after work. I always have something cooking as I navigate each day by what project appeals to me, which one has the most energy resonance. I write just about every day.

I do almost all my work on my laptop, though sometimes I cut up printouts and tape notes to notecards which I can physically sort across a large table. I have a 1940’s Royal manual typewriter I sometimes use to bang out early notes. If any prove useful I’ve found I can scan and OCR the results.

 What is your favorite book?

My favorite author/book is probably Franz Kafka and The Trial, which I’ve read several times and have also listened to as an audiobook. The fact that Kafka is more and more regarded as a humorist (especially in Europe) resonates deeply. His biographer Max Brod recounts scenes of Kafka laughing as he reads portions of The Trial to a literary group, whose members are also finding the book deliriously funny. To me there’s a psychological dimension of this humor that goes far beyond what we might now call “black comedy.”

 What is your favorite movie?

2001: A Space Odyssey. This film really jolted me when I first saw it in March 1969 (though it had come out a year earlier) and was a catalyst for deciding to become a writer; never mind that I’d been writing since the second grade–I just didn’t have the confidence to declare myself a real writer until 1969.

 Who is your favorite historical figure?

Abraham Lincoln fascinates me because of his rich psychological makeup. Ulysses S. Grant is also a fascinating figure to me because of the courageous, if also cold and calculating manner in which he prosecuted the end of the Civil War.

 In your books, who is your favorite hero and please introduce him?

My favorite hero of this book is the completely over-the-top anti-hero Allan. The insanity of the six-month-old CommWealth system, in which all private property has been outlawed and citizens are required to share everything, finds its expression in Allan Larson as he glibly procures electronics and a Porsche in the first scene. Allan is a narcissistic playwright and actor who forces Forensic Squad to stage his mediocre play Cabaret. Supercilious, clueless, and manipulative, he’s claimed a mansion in Linstar Heights, surrounding himself with expensive cars and gadgets. He both needs friends and is quick to betray them. As a writer he thinks he should express his buried truths, but he’s too fearful to find out what they really are, and when crime tempts him, he sees it as just another avenue to fulfilling his needs. He considers himself too creative to be bothered making backup copies of his writing, and it’s only by luck that he gets a digital copy of Cabaret back after his laptop is claimed by another citizen along with all his wide screen TVs, sports cars, and motorcycles. Though he has a certain measure of charisma, he’s basically a loser, and the only way he can get his love object Lisa is to demand thirty days’ ownership of her as per CommWealth regulations.

 Who is your favorite heroine and please introduce her?

In CommWealth, Erica Thora, the beautiful model girlfriend of bicycle mechanic Richard, initially seems to be a two-dimensional background figure, especially when Allan, tired of the apparently brainwashed Lisa, begins cataloging his lust for the physical attributes of the exceptional six-foot beauty. Yet Allan is shocked to find out that the buxom model is really thirty-seven, six years his senior, and mature and decisive in ways that terrify Allan and in fact are unknown to her own boyfriend Richard. Erica’s father, a policeman, taught her how to shoot everything from hunting rifles to semi-automatic weapons, and it’s her courage and practical insight that finally challenge the folly of CommWealth. She would definitely be at home in a Robert Heinlein novel.

 What do you have out now? Excerpt, blurb, book trailers


The CommWealth system, introduced just six months previously, has created a society in which there is no legal claim to any kind of private property. Any object from your house to the clothes you’re wearing can be demanded by anyone, to be enjoyed for thirty days before anyone else can request it. As actors in the Forensic Squad theatrical troupe adapt to this giddy chaos, CommWealth probes their breaking of the Four Rules sustaining the system, and several members navigate a twist of betrayals, double agents, and murder to find themselves leading a suicidal revolution.

Excerpt, during which Richard’s secret writing, the object of a property claim by a mediocre writer, becomes exposed to the CommWealth inspector:

“Dammit…” Richard flung himself back into his seat. “So what do you want?”

“I’m sure you do know what I want,” Hardy said crisply.

“I sure don’t. Forgive me, most glorious sir, but I’m just so full of ungenerous greed that I just can’t think right these days, you know. So why don’t you lay it all out for me in all your compassionate wisdom?”

Jill sighed. Hardy pursed his lips. Jill saw he was suppressing a smile.

“Of course, it has to do with this,” Hardy said, pulling the newspaper from beneath his laptop and aiming his CommScan lens at it. “We see that this newspaper exists at the Cup of Fog at 208 North Carson Street on Monday, December 18, and was open to the page containing this particular full-page notice, strongly implying that all the persons in this room are familiar with the contents of the notice.”

“Jesus!” Richard said. “So you guys want it now! Sorry, but this other twit claimed it first.” He laughed bitterly. “Maybe you can get it thirty days from now!”

“You really don’t understand, I see. Are you aware that works of art, including writing, are of a different order than, say, coffee pots and tennis balls?”

“The thought had crossed my mind a few times.”

“I’m speaking of Modal Property Assignations, Mr. Stapke. CommWealth Central recognizes several grades of MPA’s, though not many people seem to realize this. Perhaps it’s our fault. People have been having so much trouble memorizing the Four Rules, that…well, life is complicated enough, you know.” He strained through an offensive little smile and then steeled his features at Richard’s frown.

“The MPA on works of art,” he went on, “is as follows: artworks are considered taxable property, and taxes shall be paid to CommWealth Central on a monthly basis.”

Taxable?” Richard exploded. “That’s insane! There aren’t supposed to be taxes! That’s the whole point of CommWealth! People just ask for what they need! So who needs taxes? Who needs money, for that matter?”

“But the point is, many people don’t realize they have certain needs. They spend their lives in ignorance,” Hardy countered. “So CommWealth determines what their needs are, and allocates resources accordingly. Thus we need taxes in certain cases. It makes distributing so much easier, you know.”

“You—you’re saying—I owe taxes on unpublished writing?” Richard said.


“What the hell would I pay taxes with? We don’t use money anymore—or at least, nobody has much of it anymore. Does CommWealth want some old bicycles?”

“Oh, no, you misunderstand completely. I see I’m not such a good explainer, Mr. Stapke. There’s a special MPA Writer’s Tax. You owe—let’s see, I would roughly calculate your output, based on this newspaper ad, at between one and three hundred pages per month—about—let’s see, seventeen percent. That’s not too bad.”

“Wait a second—I never said I actually had any writing. I was just being hypothetical. This Horranger guy assumes I have writing, you assume I do, but really—someone just made this up. I don’t write. I’m a bicycle mechanic.”

Jill put her hand to her mouth.

Oh my God! We agreed to lie—but—this is CommWealth! This is treason to CommWealth! Richard’s ruining my business! My life! What am I going to do?

No! You aren’t that sort of coward! Not anymore! Don’t let them hurt Richard! Follow the plan. No matter what. Burn your damn bridges behind you. It’s fate! Fate!

Mr. Stapke,” Hardy said, tapping something ominous into his laptop, “let’s assume that your entire last statement was hypothetical. In that hypothetical case, in which you are a mere bicycle mechanic, of course you owe no Writer’s Tax. But, since you do have writing, and since you are a writer, you owe seventeen percent.”

Richard opened his mouth and shut it. “Seventeen percent? Hypothetically speaking, seventeen percent of what?

“Of your output, of course. Let’s say you produce two hundred pages per month, maybe fifty-thousand words, as you do seem quite prolific. Of that, seventeen percent, or thirty-four pages, or eighty-five hundred words, would be sent to the CommWealth Central Tax Assessor’s Office.”

What?” Richard and Allan both cried.

“If you produce more than say, five hundred pages a month—if you’re a real barn burner, that is, it goes up to fifty percent. So, of course, it’s best to stay around two to three hundred. We know that nobody wants to lose half his writing.”

What’s coming?

In addition to several literary novels in various stages of development, I’m working on a science fiction series from another publisher, and I just released a fun experiment in which I took a sixth grade science fiction story that decades later sparked that series, drew sixty-five illustrations for it, and self-published it as a picture book. Somehow the ludicrous kid story works with the modern illustrations and comes off as an adult work. Though I never intended this as a serious writing project, I’ve never done anything quite like this before and the whole effort has been deeply satisfying.

 Where can we find you? (Social media, web site, etc.)

Web site:




Amazon author page:

CommWealth is available at:

Publisher’s website:


Barnes & Noble:


Also available from







Purr M for Murder by T.C. Lotempio


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GENRE:  Cozy Mystery


Sydney McCall left behind an ex-fiancé and a New York advertising job to return home to Deer Park, North Carolina and help her sister, Kat, run the local animal shelter, Friendly Paws. Determined to save the shelter from financial trouble, Sydney and Kat organize a cat café fundraising event at a local coffee shop. Things are looking up until their landlord, Trowbridge Littleton, threatens to shut down the event. When Sydney drops by his art gallery to make peace, she finds Kat–along with Littleton’s dead body.

Local homicide detective Will Worthington–who just happens to be Sydney’s old high school crush–is highly suspicious of the sisters’ involvement. Desperate to clear their names from the suspect list, Sydney pounces on the investigation. With the help of one of the shelter cats, a savvy orange tabby named Toby, Sydney begins poking her nose into other local businesses whose owners may have benefited from Littleton’s death–until the killer notices she’s pawing a little too closely at the truth.


Will glanced up. “Pretty observant of you, Syd. The ME will determine the cause of mediakit_bookcover_purrmformurder-002death.” He tapped on his notebook with the edge of his pen. “Why don’t you walk me through what happened. How did the two of you come to be in Littleton’s shop so early?”

“We had something we wanted to discuss with Mr. Littleton, and we thought the earlier the better,” I said.

“I see. And just what was the nature of this discussion?”

I shifted my weight to my other foot. “Friendly Paws has teamed with Dayna’s Treats & Sweets for a cat café event to benefit the shelter. For a nominal fee, people can have their coffee and goodies in a room with shelter cats that are available for adoption.”

Will glanced up, and I could see a light of interest in his eyes. “I’ve heard of those cafes. They’re mostly in Europe.”

“There are a few in the States, big cities mostly. This will be the first event of it’s kind in North Carolina. We’re hoping to increase revenue for both the café and the shelter.”

“Let me guess. That idea didn’t sit well with Littleton?”

Kat and I both shook our heads in unison and Kat exclaimed, “I should say not! He was in the shop yesterday, and he made his feelings pretty darn clear. He thought having the cats around would be detrimental to business. Heck, he thinks-thought-the shelter in general was a detriment to the town.”

“A sentiment you two didn’t agree with,” he said slowly.

“I should say not!” Kat returned, her cheeks starting to flame. “Syd and I tried to reason with him yesterday but he dind’t want to hear it.”

“And that’s why you decided to come here this morning?”

I nodded. “Yes. I put together a pretty good argument of pros for the event. I was hoping to appeal to his sense of business acumen.”

“Why did you feel this was necessary? Had he threatened you?”

“Not in so many words,” I said carefully. “But he did say yesterday that he was determined to put a stop to the proceedings, and we hadn’t heard the last from him.”

“Um-hm.” Will murmured, scribbling some more.

“And Leila Addams – do you remember her, Will? She’s a reporter for the Deer Park Herald now,” Kat chimed in. “Leila said that she thought Littleton was inquiring about starting a petition against showing the shelter cats – and the shelter in general.”

Will made another notation in his book. “So when was the last time you saw Littleton?”

“Yesterday around one-thirty.” I cleared my throat. “If that’s all the questions you have, we need to get going.”

He snapped his notebook shut. “You’re free to go for now,” he said, “but I will probably need to talk to you some more later on.”

“That’s fine,” I said. “We’ll be here.”

The corners of Will’s lips twitched slightly. “Good to know.”

Once we were back out on the street, Kat hauled off and punched me in the arm – hard.

“Yow!” I cried. “What was that for?”

“For thinking that you could come here and face Littleton without me, for one,” Kat said. “I knew you had your fingers crossed last night.”

I rubbed at my arm. “Can’t put anything over on you, can I?”

She gave me a shrewd look. “So, how did it feel, seeing Will Worthington again after all these years! I heard he was back in town, but I had no idea he’d become a detective – homicide, no less.” She cut me a sidelong glance. “Funny, isn’t it, how you two came back to Deer Park almost at the same time. Like Karma, or something.”

“Well, I’d rather deal with Will than his partner, Colombo Junior,” I said. “Come on, let’s get my car and get to the shelter. I hope Maggie isn’t too worried.”

We walked through the alleyway and when we were almost at the spot where I’d parked, I suddenly stopped short. “Hey,” Kat cried as she ran full tilt into my back. “What’s wrong?”

I pointed to the empty space beside my car. “There was a white Lincoln there when I came, parked pretty badly. The license plate read TLITTLE. I thought for sure it was Littleton’s car, but if it’s gone…”

“A white Lincoln? That’s his wife Petra’s car,” Kat said. She glanced around, then pointed to the gym. “She must have parked it here instead of the gym parking lot, like she usually does. I wonder why.”

Another disturbing thought occurred to me as I slid behind the wheel. It would have been impossible for Littleton’s wife not to have seen the ambulance and police cars parked in front of her husband’s shop. Why hadn’t she come to see what was wrong?

Unless, of course…she didn’t have to. Because she already knew.

AUTHOR Bio and Links:

mediakit_authorphoto_purrmformurder-002While Toni Lotempio does not commit – or solve – murders in real life, she has no trouble doing it on paper. Her lifelong love of mysteries began early on when she was introduced to her first Nancy Drew mystery at age 10 – The Secret in the Old Attic. She (and ROCCO, albeit he’s uncredited) pen the Nick and Nora mystery series from Berkley Prime Crime – the first volume, MEOW IF ITS MURDER, debuted Dec. 2, 2014. Followed by #2, CLAWS FOR ALARM. #3, CRIME AND CATNIP, is out this December. She, Rocco and Maxx make their home in Clifton, New Jersey, just twenty minutes from the Big Apple – New York. Catch up with them at and

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