Yep, I live with Immortals. Huge, stubborn warriors who barely know the meaning of compromise and never give up until they get exactly what they want. Difficult to reason with and impossible to out-muscle...but at least they don’t scare my neighbours and eat me out of house and home. They don’t leave the toilet seat up or throw their torn, bloodstained laundry on the floor. I don’t have to wrestle any one of them for the television remote, and they don’t destroy my living room with their swords when they’re training.

They just do all of that in my head.

Yes, I’m probably a little bit crazy (really, what writer isn’t?) but I’ve read the self-help books, taken the 12-step program, and I’m finally willing to admit it to the world: My characters are real to me.

Then again, that’s not so strange. I hope that they will become real to you as well after you read my books. Because, you see, that is the goal of every writer. To create such compelling heroes and heroines, to paint such vivid pictures with words, that the story runs through your head like a blockbuster movie and stays with you long after you’ve finished reading. You should breathe in the scents and textures of that world, cry when the characters hurt, frown and throw things when they are insufferable, and laugh at their lame jokes just as you would for your sweet husband (*kidding, he’s hilarious*).

This is why I am proud to say that I live with Immortals. Like all of us real people do, these strong, alpha warriors have a past, and they have baggage that affects how they deal with others. They have experienced frustration, desire, happiness. My characters have suffered with me, grown and matured with me as we have hashed out their stories together. And I am happy, in turn, to be able to share that with all of you.

So I invite you into my world. Come and meet my immortals...

Immortal Kiss (Book 2, Immortal Series)

Evil lurks in the darkest of shadows, but a band of warriors stands ready to defend humanity against hell’s own monsters—Immortal men hand-picked by destiny and taken out of time hold the fate of the world in their hands.

It has been two years since Baron’s initiation into the world of the Immortals, and during that time, he’s been training with them, setting aside his past to embrace the challenges of his new future…a future without Maxine Deveraux.

Maxine is strong, determined, and loyal to a fault. The last person she wants to have to face is Baron Silver, the man who broke her heart, leaving her without an explanation or even a goodbye. But Maxine gave her word to Baron’s brother Jackson that she’d track him down and bring him home…and Max always keeps her promises.

When Baron encounters a vicious vampire who vows to destroy everything he loves, it doesn’t faze him in the least. He gave up everything he loved along with his humanity. But then the demon attacks Maxine leaving her broken and battered on Baron’s doorstep and he realizes there are still things he can lose…and they are things he can’t live without.

© Immortal Kiss (Book 2, Immortal Series) by J.K. Coi

She put a hand to Baron’s chest in a lame effort to push him back and put distance between them, which he wholly ignored, stepping even closer into her personal space. Baron had always been a very physical person. He had played sports constantly, his body always in motion—almost as if he’d been given an extra dose of energy to make up for what his brother lacked.
Now all of that physical presence was concentrated on her, transformed into blistering, crackling, hot sexual energy. Her fingers curled around the soft cotton of his shirt. “Baron—”
“Max—” he mimicked, his voice deep and husky and so damn sexy.
He was close. So close.She was going to push him away now. Wasn’t she?
Apparently not soon enough to avoid being kissed. Her body tensed with the initial contact of his mouth against hers. It was a sizzling, wet kiss that ignited a fever in her blood, but he was gentle, almost careful with her as if he half expected to get kneed in the groin.
Which was exactly what she should do.
When it came to this man, though, Max had never operated on “should”. Baron had always been her one and worst weakness, the addiction she may never kick no matter how long and hard she tried.
Her lips were opening of their own accord under his gentle but insistent pressure. Damn, this was dangerous.

Thanks so much to Jenny for letting me visit today!
Please visit me at my website for more information about upcoming books, chats, interviews, reviews, and all things Immortal: http://www.jkcoi.com/. I’m also on MySpace: http://www.myspace.com/jkcoi and I blog at http://www.jkcoi.blogspot.com/.

J.K. CoiImmortals to Die Forhttp://www.jkcoi.com/

A.R. Moler Stops by for a Guest Blog! Please Give Her a Great Big Welcome!

Hello to all,

I'm A.R. Moler, a chemistry professor, homeschooling mommy of two and a writer. The order of priority depends on what time you ask me. When I tell people I wrote a book, and am nearly finished another, the immediate assumption seems to be that it must be a chemistry text, which usually makes me laugh. Much as I adore chemistry, writing a text book would bore me out of my skull. Instead, there's demons and vampires and gunfire and some really graphic hot sex.
The novel I'm nearly done with is called And Hell Itself Breathes Out. Nothing like stealing from the bard (grin) It's the first book in a series -The SIS Case Files. I already wrote and released the second book - Now I Could Drink Hot Blood. I know, I know, that's backwards and weird. Deal with it. If George Lucas can start in the middle.......SIS is a tiny fictional federal agency, Special Investigative Services, run by my hero, Director John Benchley. His 5 member staff investigates and deals with things that other agencies can't even comprehend.
I'm up to 69K words on Hell Itself and have one more scene to deal with, followed by going back to fix the gaping plot hole round about chapter 6 or so. Some writers do stuff sequentially, obvious I'm not really one of them. I skip stuff when I'm stuck and leave myself notes. ( insert more sex here) No, really. The first time my editor read that she said she about fell out of her chair laughing.
Here's a little exerpt from Now I Could Drink Hot Blood -

John found himself searching the faces of the FBI personnel for Brie. Eventually he saw her, digging gloves and some sampling equipment out of the back of the truck. She wore a standard issue FBI wind breaker and a pair of dark slacks. He dodged past a couple of agents on security detail to get to her.

“Hey Gabrielle!” he called.

She was wearing her dark sunglasses despite the heavy overcast of the day. He stopped beside her and laid a hand on her arm. She looked up at him.

“I recognize those glasses. Migraine ?” he asked.

“Yeah … ” she answered slowly.

“Give me 5 minutes.” He pulled her against his body and threaded his fingers through her hair, rubbing the back of her neck and the knotted muscles at the base of her skull. He felt her mind brush across his. Just a hint of pure pleasure at his touch as her forehead rested on his collarbone.

“Interrogation today?” he asked.

“Yes, better than ninety minutes,” she whispered. His cheek rested against the top of her head, and he noticed that they were receiving a couple of pointed stares. He was amused. He spent a couple more minutes holding her, trying to ease her headache.


“Some. Enough that maybe my eyeballs won’t fall out.” She pulled away and started putting on her gloves. He grabbed her field kit box and followed her toward the body. Cecelia and Evan were measuring and photographing. Several FBI people were doing similar things. This was definitely going to lead to arguments over who got what samples. Brie walked the perimeter, looking. John set the box down and watched her. He slowly realized that she was looking for something. Something specific. She knelt down and used a swab to sample something, placing it in a tube. And then she stroked her fingers across it, feeling the texture of whatever it is through her gloves. The sun chose that moment to break through the clouds. She let out a little squeal and dropped the tube, which was luckily acrylic. She was franticly yanking the glove off her hand.

“Fuckfuckfuck!” she yelled.

John lunged forward, dropping to his knees and grabbed her wrist and peeling most of the glove the rest of the way off. There was gummy melted residue on her palm and fingers, and she was grimacing in pain. John looked at her with a worried expression.

“Hey Cecelia! Get over here!” he shouted. “What happened?” he demanded of Gabrielle.

“Major exothermic reaction.”

“Say what?”

“It didn’t quite burst into flames,” said Brie. Cecelia dropped down beside them.

“Take a look at her hand. Whatever it was, melted the glove,” ordered John.

Cecelia took hold of the other woman’s hand and starts flexing her fingers and trying to assess the damage.

Now I Could Drink Hot Blood is available in both paperback and e-book


Please welcome author and friend, Renee Knowles!

A Little Dose of Good, Old-fashioned Romance

Surely, romance is not dead. The romance genre as a whole continues to thrive despite desperate and very difficult financial times. Us readers, fans, and authors still flock to the stores (or online bookstores) and buy our favorite authors, lapping up every line of sexual tension, chemistry, and obstacles we read.

But there has been a turn lately toward romance that pushes the boundaries, with sexuality, paranormal elements, and unusual situations. I love them. I adore a book that can make you believe anything. I adore an author who can transport me to the depths of sexuality and to other worlds.

Yet…sometimes, in my heart, I long for a good old-fashioned romance. Something where heroes abound, sexual tension rules the day and love is something to work for. I’m not saying these romances don’t exist. I’ve read some incredibly fabulous romances lately full of passion and the feel of yesterday’s favorites.

But the days of Audrey Hepburn and Gregory Peck in Roman Holiday—a classic, fun romance if I ever saw one—seem to be shifting. All things change. And overall change is good. Only in these days of new everything, there is still something to be said for getting back to basics.

I’d like to think that at its core, my historical romance, Courting Trouble, is an old-fashioned story of deep love and desire (despite it being rather spicy!). In fact, as I was writing the story, part of what drove my passion for the manuscript each day was the central story of the romance. The hero and heroine start out as childhood friends, each having a small tether hold on the other’s heart from the beginning.

Am I too romantic? I don’t think so (says the woman who scoffed at her hubby for buying her jump drives as a stocking stuffer instead of something more personal!). But I think romance itself is a part of our lives. When someone says Rhett and Scarlett or Darcy and Elizabeth, we know who they mean.

I think it’s because we all want to feel someone’s arms wrapped around us. We all want to know we have captured the interest of the person who is right for us. And we all want to dream about that happily ever after.

You will find this all in a romance novel, where good, old-fashioned romance can still be found. Where love can conquer all. And the hero can still ride off into the sunset with the heroine.

Hugs to all,


Renee Knowles
Sensual, Sassy and Slightly Sinful
For a chance to win a Sony E-Reader check out COURTING TROUBLE
from The Wild Rose Press --5 Angels--"...simmers with emotion."--Fallen Angel

SAVVY BUSINESS SKILLS FOR WRITERS--coming from Wild Child Publishing