So snag your copy at whichever place is easiest for you!
Also, if there are any bloggers out there who want to post about my release, there are some handy pics and links and bio stuff on the promo page at Bookbuzz.
OMG, you guys. I just got back from spending the weekend at the Gorge watching Dead and Company. I absolutely LOVE that venue and I have fun hanging out with hippies. I got some cool stuff at Shakedown Street too. Shakedown is this delightful hippy flea market that appears in the campground.
Here's a tapestry I got there and a view of the concert, and a view of my camping spot!
I also got a romantic present from Kent! The last night of the concert, he offered to buy me something and I wanted a necklace. This one appealed to me because of the shape and texture.
It's called moldavite and it happened when a meteor hit the Earth so hard that part of the earth melted and splashed up into space before falling back down. I didn't know until after Kent bought it that the stone is translucent green. I love it.
Also, Shadowpaw made a perfect backdrop for taking a pic of the necklace.
I'm making good progress on the 2nd B Mine book, Her Haunted Heart, and there will be an exclusive first look at the cover VERY soon, so please keep an eye on your inbox!
I'll also have another giveaway!!!
Oh! And I checked amazon and my publisher still has my heavy metal romance, Kissing Vicious, on sale for 99 cents!
So I've been back from New Orleans for almost a week and just now getting to my recap. The convention was a lot of fun, and I did indeed fulfill my goal to EAT ALL THE DELICIOUS NOLA FOOD. Below are pics of Shrimp and Grits, (Which is my fave and I ate 3 times), Deep Fried crawfish, shrimp, and crab, and some poutine.
And that's only a sample of the goodness I devoured, lol.
I got to do a lot of touristy stuff that I didn't get to enjoy last time, like visit the St. Louis Cemetery. Our guide was awesome, and Kent and I got to see all the above ground crypts and Marie Laveau's tomb, Nicholas Cage's tomb (Women kiss it, apparently, even though he's still alive and obviously not in there, lol).
I fulfilled my dream of seeing the Garden District, including the house from Anne Rice's The Witching Hour! Other touristy visits included The French Market (OMG, I got so many cute dresses!), the aquarium, (Not worth the 30 bucks per ticket, I recommend the Seattle Aquarium instead) and the Jazz Museum for the sake of my son.
Sometimes, I beat myself up a bit over not spending as much time at the convention networking and promoting myself, but not much. For one thing, my social anxiety was crazy-high that week. I blame the move and having writer's block. So I wouldn't have been very effective forcing myself.
For another, it made the connections I DID make more memorable. I did feel bad about the last few conventions when I'd come home exhausted and overwhelmed with a handful of business cards of people I couldn't remember meeting.
Instead, I met some awesome librarians, book club members, bloggers, and of course, AWESOME READERS!
Most of all, I'm trying not to beat myself up about not being in author mode for most of this convention because this was probably my last chance to visit New Orleans for at least a few years, and possibly ever.
It was wonderful to see the sights, eat the food, and have a bit of a romantic vacation with Kent. I was pleasantly surprised at how much he loved the place too. He's traveled a lot, so he's not as easy to impress as I am, lol.
I also indulged myself and got souveniers. These were a couple oddball things I purchased. I ADORE my little cast iron crawfish!!! I also bought some gorgeous dresses, but can't find a way to get them to photograph well.
Anyway, it's good to be back home and writing again even though next week I have to leave town again to once more go to The Gorge to see Dead and Company. At least that's only for a weekend. :)
I FINALLY managed to pull myself out of another bad bout of writer's block. My second horror romance, HER HAUNTED HEART, is beginning to take shape! I also got to work with my publisher to find the perfect images for the cover, so there might be a reveal sooner than usual!
And speaking of the B Mine series, I want to thank everyone who's given HIS FINAL GIRL a chance. Yes, it was ricky for me to combine horror and romance, but it's also been a lot of fun.
FREE BOOK OPPORTUNITY
Want to read HIS FINAL GIRL, but don't have $3.99? I partnered with Reading Deals and they're giving away a limited amount of copies if you're willing to review the book. And like I often say, reviews help me A TON!
My horror romance, HIS FINAL GIRL is available on paperback on Amazon and Barnes & Noble! Another way to get it is to ask your local bookstore or your library to order it.
Also, the book got its first review and it's amazeballs!
"Do you enjoy fun cheesy 80s movies with summer camps, teens, and something in the woods? Do you like it when the heroes are a little more real and the sparks of romance and love can be felt? Oh, and do you love winks and nods to 80s horror films? HIS FINAL GIRL is a super-fun, romantic, horror-filled romp set in the early 80s at a summer camp. This tale drips with nostalgia for summer campers, movie watchers, and the children of the 80s. It is unique, familiar, risky, and a must read.
I bought this book with some trepidation because I don’t normally read romance books, but I love horror novels and movies. I don’t mind romance and a good love story is always welcome, but in a horror film or book this doesn’t always end well. In horror movies (like slashers) there’s usually just a final person (most often a woman) who survives (at least until the last-second jump-scare in some cases). In this case, well, it’s a steamy romance book too. How do 99% of romance books end?
Also, the romantic male-lead isn’t a roguish rake, he’s an every-man with flaws and even kind of nerdy. There’s nothing to hate about him. In fact, both leads are extremely likable. Easy to love and root for.
Now, about the horror references. Some are obvious. The main male character Wes Carpenter is an obvious nod to Wes Craven and John Carpenter (amazing horror directors). Linnea Langenkamp is a mashup of Linnea Quigley and Heather Langenkamp (an awesome Scream Queen and a great final girl). The references don’t stop there. You’ll see jocks in half-shirts and short shorts. You’ll see pulled up striped tube socks. Let’s just say you’ll see a lot. I often found myself wondering “I wonder if this is a reference to...” when I started out, but then I got into the story more and ignored the references.
I keep saying “you’ll see” because this book feels like a great popcorn-and-soda film. After everyone got to camp, I was lost in it. It felt like I was sitting on my couch, munching popcorn, and enjoying the show. This doesn’t happen often with books for me, but when it does, it’s a bit of a mind twist. Effortless reading with moving brain pictures. This NEEDS to be an an audiobook. Hell, it eventually needs to be a great throwback movie.
Yes, this would make an “Unrated” or XXX movie (for hot sex and bloody, Tom Savini-esque violence) as written, but it could work as an R or even a—with crafty editing—PG-13 film...but if a PG-13 cut was made, I’m sure the author would want an over-the-top director’s unrated splatterific cut too. It’s interesting to read well-written romantic and hot sex-scenes in a horror book. It isn’t unheard of, but they’re often not this well done (even Stephen King’s make me cringe a little). These felt almost as if Stephanie Laurens decided to write a horror novel.
And the best part, this is going to be part of a series of horror romance books that Brooklyn Ann is calling “B Mine.” I don’t know what her plans are exactly, but I’m excited about this. This book deserves to be a number-one best seller, but I’ll be happy if it become the cult classic that it is."
Now that the move is done, I'm going back to watching haunted house movies because that's the subject of B Mine, Book 2!
But I also need to focus on unpacking, preparing for Book Lover's Con in TWELVE DAYS, writing my next book, and doing my best to make my work known to readers. You all help me with that soooo much when you add my books to your TBR lists and those of you who share my releases on social media. I say this a lot, but I CAN'T THANK YOU ENOUGH!
I got the copyedits back for HIS FINAL GIRL, so here's a first ever peek at the book!
Amteep, Idaho, 1978
Wes Carpenter wiped his brow as he turned the page of the latest issue of 80 Micro Magazine. Only twelve more lines of code and he’d be able to play Scarf Man, a game that was supposed to be an imitation of Pac Man. It was monotonous, typing in hundreds, sometimes thousands of characters into his computer, but some games could not be found on cassette at RadioShack. At least this method had helped him learn the computer’s language.
Wes had gotten the TRS80 computer for Christmas last year, but hadn’t really gotten the hang of it until he’d fallen ill with a monster case of bronchitis, which morphed into pneumonia, then to mono. As a result, he’d spent nearly six months at home. The never-ending sickness had wreaked havoc on his asthma and cost him a school year, but there had also been a silver lining. Huddled in bed with issues of Byte and 80 Micro his father had gotten for him, and in the hours where he had the strength to get up, Wes used his time to gain knowledge and mastery of the computer.
His breath tightened as he typed the final line of code. If Wes missed one character, the game wouldn’t run. Reaching for his inhaler, he waited for the computer to process the code. Once he took a deep puff of acrid, chemical-flavored moisture, the pressure on his lungs loosened, and he was able to breathe again. Still, he remained tense through the endless waiting for the computer to process the commands. Five minutes later, the screen flickered and music began to play as the title and copyright date appeared on the black and white monitor.
“Yes!” Wes pumped both fists in the air.
As his fingers reached for the arrow keys to move Pac— er— Scarf Man, his mother opened his bedroom door.
“Wesley.” Mom’s voice was brusque as she strode into the room. She was probably going to complain that his computer was giving her radio static again. Sometimes his computer did that. But her radio was portable. His computer was not. If she took her radio outside, or even into the kitchen, she wouldn’t have trouble.
“I have some news for you.”
Relief washed over him that she wasn’t going to bug him about his computer again. “I’m a little busy, Mom. Can’t it wait?”
“No, it can’t. You’ve been locked in here with that silly, bleeping thing for months. You can take a moment to talk with me.” Laurie Carpenter was normally an easygoing, cheerful mom, but now Wes heard the rare thread of steel in her voice.
Leaving the Player One screen flashing, Wes turned down the volume on the monitor. “Okay. What’s the news?”
“You’re going to summer camp.” Mom beamed like the wheel-spinning woman on The Price is Right.
“What?” Wes rubbed his eyes, wondering if this was some kind of joke. “I’m too old for that stuff.” His nineteenth birthday was last week.
“It’s tradition up here for the senior class to go to camp and get to know each other before school starts,” Mom explained, ignoring Wes’s protest. “I think it sounds lovely. Especially since you haven’t gotten to know anyone since we moved to Amteep.”
Wes thought it sounded like a stupid tradition. “Spending ten days with my classmates before school starts will feel like going back to school early.” He wanted to spend those last two weeks earning money at his job at the movie theater, and at home with his computer.
“Spending the rest of the summer cooped up inside is bad for you.” Mom wagged her perfectly manicured finger at him. “Furthermore, you could stand to make new friends.”
“I’m older than all of them.” And even if Wes hadn’t been nineteen, it’s not like he’d be well-received. Not with his glasses, asthma, and gangly form. Not with his interest in computers and complete illiteracy in all things sports. He may as well have had “nerd” tattooed on his forehead. On top of all that, he’d moved to this small town in North Idaho from San Diego and was a “city boy” according to the jerks who’d jeered at him in the theater parking lot the other day.
“Only by a year.” Laurie bent to pick his clothes up from the floor. “And probably some less than that.” Suddenly, she frowned. “Are you worried about dating?”
“Mom,” he groaned. “I’m worried about college. I’m worried about how I can convince Dad’s boss to give me a chance at Micron when I graduate. I’m worried about how to then turn that job into a career writing programs that will make me enough money to buy one of those nice beach houses back in San Diego.” At the dismay in his mother’s eyes from mentioning moving away, he switched to a teasing note. “I’m worried about there not being enough of those cookies I smelled you baking left after Janey got to them.”
A smile tilted the corner of Mom’s mouth. “Wesley, I’m being serious. I know the move was rough for you.”
It was. Even worse was he couldn’t object too much because his dad had gotten an amazing promotion at Micron, moving to their new second headquarters in Amteep. All predication pointed to this town booming in the next decade, becoming a stronghold in the growing tech industry. But Wes missed his home in San Diego the moment they’d left. He missed the few friends he’d had, the much bigger RadioShack, the record store, and the multitudes of rock concerts and clubs he would have been able to access to see live bands if he’d been there for his nineteenth birthday. Instead, he had spent his birthday at a bar with his father, playing an awkward game of pool and trying to pretend that the pitcher of beer Dad had ordered had been Wes’s first. He didn’t think Dad had been fooled.
Greg Carpenter was a brilliant man, with a PhD in electronic engineering. For many years, Wes wanted to be exactly like his dad when he grew up. But now that Wes was almost there, he knew he was nowhere near going down his father’s path. And yet, that didn’t bother him so much. Wes’s own path loomed ahead, frightening and exciting all at once. Who he would become, he didn’t quite know. He’d likely leave home after graduation.
Sometimes it was scary to think that if it weren’t for getting sick last year, he might have been on his own already. Those missed months had cost him most of his senior year of high school. Now he’d have to do it all over again. And, apparently, attend summer camp.
“Wes?” Mom interrupted his musings. “There’s a list of things you’ll need to pack for camp, and of course we’ll have to go to the pharmacy and get you an extra inhaler.”
He sighed and leaned back in his chair. “I’m not going to some silly camp. That’s kid’s stuff.”
“Yes, you are.” Mom remained implacable, and somehow smug, like she had an ace up her sleeve. “I already mailed the check.”
Wes bit his lip. “Then you can ask for a refund.”
Mom’s spine straightened and she put her hands on her hips. “Your father and I are taking your little sister to Disneyland, so no one will be home.”
For a moment he was tempted to demand why he wasn’t going to Disneyland too, but he couldn’t. If camp was kid’s stuff, then what was Mickey Mouse? He leaned forward and rose from his seat. “I’m an adult. I can fend for myself.”
Mom’s lips curved in a triumphant smile before she delivered the killing blow. “Not without food, you can’t. I haven’t shopped for groceries all week, instead using up what we have.”
Shit. Wes had been curious about the interesting casseroles and smorgasbord platters she’d been serving lately, but hadn’t noticed that she hadn’t gone to the grocery store in a while. Mom had him there. Wes loved to eat. His parents marveled at where he put it all, since he remained scrawny. And he could put away a lot. More than he could afford with his part-time wages at the movie theater.
It looked like he would be going to camp after all. Holding up his hands in surrender, Wes forced a smile. “Fine. You win. At least I’ll have time to read. Where is this place, anyway?”
“On the other side of Lake Skeetshue. Remember? Where we had that lovely cruise.” She pulled a brochure out of her back pocket. “It’s called Camp Natli— I can’t pronounce it. Another Indian name, I guess.” She handed him the brochure, displaying overly joyous teens paddling canoes on a sparkling lake with a beach and fake totem poles in the background.
Wes squinted at the name of the place. Camp Natliskeliguten. “I can’t pronounce it either. I think it sounds more German.”
“They call it ‘Camp Natty’ for short.” Now that she’d won, Mom had returned to her usual cheerful self. “And aside from the lake activities in the picture, you can learn archery, canoeing, and they’ll even have guided nature walks so you can learn about the forest. By the time you get back, you’ll know more about our new home than the rest of the family.”
Wes did not share her enthusiasm. A lot of that stuff would be hell on his asthma. Also, the idea of wandering around in the woods spooked him a little. As his little sister had proudly announced, there were some scary wild animals in the forests surrounding Amteep. Bears, wolves, mountain lions, and bobcats. And although Wes had swum in the ocean plenty of times, he couldn’t say he enjoyed it. Knowing his luck, he’d tip over a canoe and fall into the cold water, lose his glasses, and maybe get covered in leeches.
Mom continued, ignoring his grimace. “And there will be dances and socials with the girls. Maybe you’ll meet someone special.”
“Maybe,” he muttered, hoping to deter another worried speculation about his lack of interest in girls. Well, it wasn’t a total lack, more that most girls lacked interest in him. Dad had even pulled him aside for a “man to man” talk a little over a year ago.
“You’re not one of those men who are… ah…” Dad had scratched the back of his neck, his ears beet red. “Interested in other men, are you?”
Wes had laughed, though there was a bit of unease. One of his close friends was a homosexual. Would Wes’s father hate him if he swung that way? “Of course not. I like girls. I’m just waiting to meet the right one. Someday I want what you and Mom have.” And that was the utter truth. Except Wes didn’t have high hopes of that ever happening. Something was missing inside him and he didn’t think he’d be ready, much less worthy of love unless he found it.
His mother snapped him back to the present. “Turn off that beeping contraption and come with me. There’s a huge list of things we’ll need to pack for you.”
Wes sighed and pushed his chair in under his desk, giving his computer and new game one last mournful glance. Then his stomach growled. “Are there any cookies left?”
There were. Wes ate four as he sat across from his mother, scowling at the endless list of items he’d need for ten days of camp, half of which he didn’t have. Bug spray, a poncho, a pocket knife, a hatchet, and a flint kit for making fires.
As they checked off the list of things they did have—flashlight, changes of clothes, et cetera—Wes found himself spacing off, half-listening to the PBS program Janey was watching in the living room.
“…after the third mysterious accident, which left four miners dead and seven wounded, the Sundown mine closed for good. In 1948, the land was purchased by…”
Mom heard the TV as well. Her mouth twisted with disgust. “Janey, why don’t you change the channel? Honestly, I don’t understand why you like to learn about such morbid topics.”
Janey’s voice held its usual indomitable cadence. “I just do.”
Mom raised her eyes to the heavens and sighed. “What did I do to be punished with such stubborn children?”
Wes laughed. “We got it from you.”
By the time Mom was placated by Wes’s cooperation with the prep for camp, Dad had come home for dinner. The crock pot beef stew melted in Wes’s mouth. He’d miss this cooking when he was at the camp. His melancholy increased when he returned to his computer only to discover that Scarf Man sucked. If the computer had a joystick, it might be playable, but with the arrow keys? The control was crap. After struggling with the game for two hours, he gave up and put on a Deep Purple cassette.
Lying in bed with his headphones on, Wes realized that next week he wouldn’t be able to do this either. More than ever, he wanted one of those Sony Walkmans that had come out last month. Too bad the things cost a hundred and fifty bucks. Even then, the one that had been available at Amteep’s RadioShack had sold out the day it was released, and future units were on backorder.
At least I have my boom box, Wes thought before he dozed off.
Wes ran through the woods, breath tight and heart pounding as an unseen figure chased him. The grip on his lungs tightened further until his breath came in pitiful gasps and wheezes. Someone grabbed his hand, urging him along. He summoned up the will to keep running, though the underbrush threatened to trip him. Thunder rumbled, despite flashes of clear moonlight penetrating the gaps between the pine boughs. A blessing and curse, because though Wes and his unseen friend could see where they were going, that meant that he could see them too.
But who was he?
They stopped running so abruptly that their shoes sent gravel skittering in all directions. Lightning flashed again to reveal a gaping maw before them. A black abyss threating to swallow them whole. But to go back meant death as well.
“We have to,” his friend whispered.
He couldn’t reply. He couldn’t breathe. Together, they plunged forward and—
Wes woke drenched in sweat and heaving, his chest constricted by an invisible boa. Scrabbling for his inhaler, he knocked his water glass from his nightstand. The shattering sound made him cringe as he took a big puff from his inhaler. This was the worst asthma attack he’d had in months.
Sucking in air until his lungs cleared, he lay there shivering.
April 25th can't come quick enough. Have I mentioned how excited I am for this one!