What Happens When a Vampire Finds He's Stuck On Diaper Duty????

December 11, 2017 is the release date for 

DIAPER DUTY VAMPIRE 

 This sweet and funny novella follows The Blautsaugers of Amber Heights series but can be read as a stand-alone. In it, you will learn the story of what happened to John Alden, Rafe Blautsauger's Enforcement Partner, and Dr. Michaela Blautsauger's lab assistant, Joann Clarkson. And you'll meet two-year-old Cody Clarkson who is as cute as he is stinky.

The vampire deserves combat pay. Not for recovering the single mom, but for babysitting her toddler. Steely vampire on one side and determined toddler on the other. Who will prevail?

Can the tough vampire be brought to his knees by a toddler?

 

 

Blurb: During the Civil War, Union soldier, John Alden took a musket ball to the gut. As he gasped his final breath, he was turned into a vampire and started life anew in Amber Heights, Missouri. For over one hundred and fifty years, he's lived a rather solitary life as a vampire Enforcer. Young single mother, Joann Clarkson, needs a job and fast. Hoping to be rehired, she returns to Dr. Michaela Blautsauger's lab prepared to eat a hefty helping of humble pie. She comes to regret that decision when she's taken hostage. Things look grim, but she'll never stop fighting to escape. Her son needs his mama. As an Enforcer, John must hunt down the vampire who kidnapped Joann. In his search, John winds up babysitting her toddler, Cody. Changing diapers might be worse than getting staked, but nothing compares to how he feels when both mother and child fall into danger again.

Excerpt: 

      “I brought you here for two reasons.” John turned to place a hand on her arm.

       “To keep us safe.” Joann remembered what he’d told her in the car.

       John nodded. “That was the main reason. I do want you and Cody secured until Sabriento is taken care of once and for all.” Suddenly looking tired, he ran a hand over his head. “After thinking about what he said to you, I suspect he’ll soon be back in Amber Heights and looking for you. So that’s the main thing. My other purpose is to give you the option of being mesmerized—” he gave her a lopsided half-smile—“once you’re out of danger. And since Justin has more skill at it than me, if you choose that option, I want him to do the adjustment.”

       “What does that mean?” Totally at a loss, Joann looked from one to the other vampire.

       John hesitated before answering, “It eradicates memory and will wipe the existence of vampires from your mind. You won’t remember being snatched or fed on. Consequently, you won’t suffer panic attacks or nightmares caused by the ordeal. Bad memories are replaced with something mundane. Like you got busy at work before finishing your shift and going home.”

       “It’s painless,” Justin said mildly. Although she frankly examined their expressions, Joann was unable to read either vampire’s  opinion on the matter.

       John stretched his legs out in front of him. “Better make that you’ll remember going home late,” he amended. “The same memory will be given to your nutty neighbor.”

       To never remember or have to think about Vincent Sabriento—to stop replaying the paralyzing horror of being bitten. She’d also forget she currently worked for a vampire. Dr. Blautsauger would go back to simply being a rather cold and exacting boss.

       It sounded like heaven. Then Joann caught sight of the sad little quirk lingering in the corner of John’s mouth. It sounded like hell. “Can…can I think about it?”

Check out what I'm working on now at:

remullins.com

Buy Links for R E Mullins' books:

The Wild Rose Press 

Amazon 

Diaper Duty Vampire now available for preorder.

A New World...An Old Me

~~ By Vonnie Davis

I've always been in a world of my own. Dancing to the tune of a flute while others march to the beat of a drum. Seeing pictures in the clouds while others are watching for steps. Reaching out to touch beautiful flowers or unique leaves while others look for bees and spiders first.

I'm often bored by normal adult conversation when I'd rather listen to my grandkids talk about what they've learned in school. No doubt many of you are, too. It's called Grandma's World.

Recently, I've been asked to join a new world: Kindle Worlds. I'll be writing a novella as part of the world Carly Phillips created in her best selling NY Dares series.

Believe me, when the email came through, I thought it was a joke. Why was Amazon contacting me? I didn't even know what Kindle Worlds were and had to google the term. I'd heard it mentioned, but never paid much attention. I certainly needed more information.

All of Carly's books in the series begin with "Dare to....."  While my title could not use those two words, it did have to include the word "dare." My novella will be A STRANGER'S DARE. Release will be in July.

What I didn't know until I began reading the first two books of the series to get a feel for what was happening was the books are practically erotic. I read erotic and can write it, but will do so with dashes of humor. There's no restrictions on the plot I devise or the tropes I use. The story is completely my creation.

In book one of her series, Carly wrote the heroine's pov in first person and the hero's in third. Yet, it worked. Books two and three of her series were in third person. I found that interesting. Wish me luck as I attempt to measure up and fit in.

Here's part of my first chapter. Webb, a pro running back, has been on a downward spiral and the team's ownership--the Dares--has ordered him to NYC to lay down the law. Either he cleans up his act or he's off the team. They've even assigned him a driver. This scene happens after the meeting when Webb and Cooper, his driver, aka babysitter check into a ritzy hotel owned by one of the Dares. Be gentle with me; this hasn't been edited yet.

“In the name of all that’s holy, Cooper, what the hell is RWA?” His gaze swept the lobby. There were signs welcoming RWA everywhere. A colorful banner hung from one marble pillar to another.

“Don’t know, Webb. Your boss’s team mentioned a large woman’s convention. Hell, there must be hundreds of ‘em. Thousands.” Cooper's head was on a swivel as he took them all in.

Webb leaned his back against the long marble-topped registration desk of the swanky hotel. His gaze swept over the hordes of females, all sizes, ages, and in various styles of clothing, lugging huge suitcases.

The lobby was crowded shoulder to toned shoulder and hip to delectable hip with women talking non-stop like hives of bees on steroids. Some squealed and charged, arms open wide, to hug another female she evidently hadn’t seen in ages. They all had briefcases slung over their shoulders, probably holding laptops.

Ah, understanding registered and he nodded. RWA must stand for Registered Women Accountants. Now it made sense. He scanned the jewelry and high-end clothes some wore. Maybe it was Rich Women Accountants. Who knew? He shrugged, turned, and signed the electronic pad the receptionist presented.

“Here’re the keys for your two rooms, Mr. Mohanty.” The harried hotel employee smiled weakly. “I apologize that you and Mr. Samuels will be on different floors. But with a large convention here at the same time as a high society wedding, we’re squeezing everyone in as best we can.”

“I’m sure you are, ma’am. This is fine.” He passed Cooper his keycard.

As Cooper and Webb walked toward the bank of elevators, some of the women…accountants…whatever parted a path and gaped. Some moaned. A good half-dozen or more females crowded in the large car behind them, their assortment of perfumes following.

One middle-aged lady wearing a pale green pantsuit eyed Webb up and down. “Your tailor did a good job on your suit. It hugs every firm muscle. What do you do for a living, if you don't mind me asking?”

“I’m a pro-football player, ma’am. The name’s Webb Mohanty. I’m pleased to meet you and your name would be—?” Be nice. Clean up my image.

She batted her eyes. “Maeve Greyson. Would you mind terribly if I took a picture.” She waved her cellphone side to side. “Imagine, my first day at the convention and I’ve already met a professional football player.” Her bejeweled hand patted her chest. “Be still my heart. God, how tall are you, anyway?”

Webb laughed and slid his arm over her shoulders. “I’m six-foot-five. Hand your phone to my driver. Cooper, snap a picture or two of this fine looking lady and me, would you?” Where have I heard of Maeve Greyson before?

“You wouldn’t have Scottish blood flowing through those handsome veins, would you?” She glanced at his legs. “I bet you’d look mighty fine in a kilt.”

He snapped his fingers. “Maeve Greyson, author of Scottish time travel romances?” She favored him with a broad smile. “My mother loves your books. Turn about’s fair play. Can my chauffer take a couple pictures of you and me for her?”

“Of course.” Webb handed Coop his phone while Maeve tapped the elevator stop button and leaned her head on his chest. The rest of the women in the elevator car had gone silent. She glanced up at him. “You wouldn’t be single, would you? I have a special niece—”

“That I am. My time’s devoted to the game right now.” No booze, no fighting, no racing, and no women. I might die from an overdose of clean living.

Two more women crowded into the shot his driver was about to take with Maeve’s camera, purring about his marital status, and he curled his other arm around their waists on instinct.

Cooper sniggered and raised the camera. “Gee, Webb, if they’re this excited about meeting one of the best running backs in the country, good thing they don’t know you’re a former SEAL.”

Squeals bounced off the elevator walls and every woman on the damned lift was all over Webb. “Oh my God, a SEAL!”… “Feel his muscles.”… “He’s like a brick wall.” … “I wish he’d slam me up against a brick wall.”

He was cornered. “You got that damn picture taken yet, Coop?” A cold bead of sweat trickled down his back.  I need to get  off of here.

“Oh, my God, he smells like dark sin.” A nose pressed against his neck.

“Cooper!” he barked.

Buttons on Webb’s shirt came undone. His necktie was ripped off. A hand cupped his ass. “Feel his tight buns, girls.”

“Alright! Enough!” He punched the elevator button to get the frigging thing in motion again. “Cooper, give the camera back and let’s get the hell out of this car. What have you women been drinking? Sex on the beach?”

“Blow jobs!” A trio giggled and slid closer. The elevator dinged, the doors opened, and he tried to bust through the perfumed line to make his escape. But hell they’d all gone apeshit!

He barged through the crowd of estrogen fueled females. Didn’t they have sex where they came from? He had no clue who these women were and, frankly, didn’t give a rat’s ass. He couldn’t. Not being on sexual probation.

Hell, he had lipstick prints on his white shirt, on his chest and, by the way Coop laughed like a hyena, there must be lipstick on his face, too.

Webb pivoted and glared at the closed elevator doors. “What. The. Hell. Was. That? I’ve been in hand-to-hand combat that wasn’t that scary. I swear one of those harmless looking ladies grabbed my junk.” And it didn’t feel too bad either.

Adventures & Birthdays by Diane Burton

Last Friday, Margo Hoornstra posted about the adventure she and I were about to embark on. An all-day event in Alpena, Michigan. I’ve lived in Michigan most of my life, yet I’ve never been to Alpena, a port city on Lake Huron near the top of the mitten. On Monday, I wrote about the Alpena Book Festival on my blog. We both had a great time and can’t wait to go back next year.

Margo was the best traveling companion. She kept me alert on the five-hour drive each way without being a Chatty Kathy. LOL We talked about family, our books, marketing, our concerns about this unknown to us event (going up) and how much fun we had (going home). I’ve shared a room with her before—at our RWA chapter’s retreat—so I knew how respectful she is of a roommate. Great quality in a traveling companion. And she’s a terrific navigator—even if the GPS wanted to send us off on a circuitous route. The only bad part was I had another hour plus drive home after dropping her off.

As September fades away, my birthday looms around the corner. While I try to ignore another year’s passing, I remind myself to be grateful I’m still around to celebrate birthdays. Health issues can plague us, but at least our medical professionals don’t dismiss our concerns by claiming “aging” as if they don’t matter. I’ve mentioned before my worry about dementia since my mother had Alzheimer’s. I’d rather lose all physical abilities than lose my mind like she did. Fortunately, my doctor said I didn’t need to worry because my writing is keeping my mind active. From a guy who’s younger than my children, that was a welcome piece of information. And a good excuse to spend more time writing.

 I spent the month of September promoting my new release. So many wonderful people welcomed me to their blogs where I shared tidbits of info, the characters, the background of Mission to New Earth, which started right here at The Roses of Prose. If you were around three years ago, you might remember “Christmas in Space” the short story about astronauts preparing to depart on a one-way trip to a new planet. I had a great time expanding that story into a novella, even if it did take me three years to complete. While doing so, I kept getting ideas of what could happen next. Another series maybe? I don’t think I’ll ever run out of stories to tell.

The giveaway accompanying Mission to New Earth ends tonight. If you haven’t already entered, there’s still time. Just go to http://dianeburton.blogspot.com/p/mission-to-new-earth-blog-tour.html

Meantime, enjoy Autumn. Trees are just starting to turn here along the west coast of Michigan. Days are shorter but warm. Nights are cool. Love sleeping with the windows open.

Diane Burton writes science fiction romance, romantic suspense, and mysteries. She blogs here on the 30^th of each month, with Paranormal Romantics on the 13^th, and on her own blog on Mondays.

How The Martini Club 4 Was Born by Alicia Dean

I am posting off topic this month, because absolutely nothing about the theme occured to me that hadn't already been done, and because, I want to share something really fun!

A few years back, my writer friends/critique partners began meeting every Friday at the Boulevard Martini Lounge in Edmond, Oklahoma, for cocktails and de-stressing. We came to call it The Martini Club, and we eventually had the idea to write a series of novellas with a Martini Lounge type establishment as a recurring theme. Our first venture, set in 1924 New York, is in the works. We are having a blast with the project and have held a few weekend getaways to plot and write. (Not only are these sojourns productive, they are FUN! Being good friends certainly helps make the process more enjoyable. However, I do have a confession. Oftentimes, rather than martinis, these weekends involve wine. Lots of wine…) Our final retreat is scheduled in mid-September, and we plan to have the books released this fall. The four stories feature a group of young women who meet on a ship sailing from England to America.

This is us at The Martini Club: Left to right, Krysta Scott, Amanda McCabe, Kathy L. Wheeler, and me (Alicia Dean)

 

Keep reading to learn more about the Martini Club 4 series…

(A few of these are ‘working titles’ and we only have two of the four covers thus far)

 

Wayward: Martini Club 4 – The Twenties by Alicia Dean

Eliza Gilbert flees England after her employer attempts to force himself upon her. She vowed to her dying mum she would be no man’s doxy, and she intends to keep that vow. But life in New York isn’t as promising as she’d hoped, and now she finds herself in a situation more dire than the one she fled.

Former boxer Vincent Taggart wants a quiet life where he can settle down with a nice girl and run his boxing gym. But when his childhood sweetheart disappears, he travels to New York in search of her. He meets Eliza, a woman with a less than honorable reputation, and he is drawn to her like no other female he’s ever known. He can’t stay away from her, especially when he learns she may be the key to unlocking the sordid mystery surrounding the missing girl.

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Rebellious: : Martini Club 4 – The Twenties by Kathy L. Wheeler

Lady Margaret Montley, needs money, and lots of it. While her singing career is on the brink of catapulting her into stardom it’s not soon enough. And bootlegging is just the answer. With the aid of a make-up artist friend she dons the persona of a young man and jumps in feet first.

Harry Dempsey, undercover investigator, is out to stop the bastard rumrunners--illegal moonshine has cost him everything he loves. When Lady Margaret shows up on the night of a dangerous sting operation, he not only has to save her from the crime lord that killed his father and brother, but from her own reckless behavior.

Bio:

Kathy L Wheeler (aka Kae Elle Wheeler) writes contemporary and historical romance. She has a BA in Management Information Systems from the University of Central Oklahoma that includes over forty credit hours of vocal music. As a computer programmer the past fifteen years, she utilizes karaoke for her vocal music talents. Other passions include fantasy football, NBA, travel and musical theatre.

She is a member of several RWA Chapters, including DARA, The Beau Monde and OKRWA chapters. Her main sources of inspiration come from mostly an over-active imagination. She currently resides in Edmond, Oklahoma with her musically talented husband, Al, and their bossy cat, Carly. Visit her at http://kathylwheeler.com

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Adrift: Martini Club 4 – The Twenties by Krysta Scott

After escaping an arranged marriage, Charli Daniels lands on a new shore. But things go from bad to worse when her fiancé follows her to New York. Now, instead of realizing her dream of opening her own bakery, she finds herself in a fight for her freedom.

Haunted by a string of failures, Detective Felix Noble is determined to solve his latest case. But his effort to find a murderer is jeopardized by a forbidden attraction to his number one suspect.

When a new threat surfaces, Felix wonders if he is once again on the wrong track. Can Charli convince him of her innocence before more than her dreams are destroyed?

Bio:

Krysta Scott is a family law attorney in her false life. After years of writing and winning contests, she is now taking the plunge into publishing. A fan of sci-fi and dark stories about people in crisis, she also enjoys the television shows Vampire Diaries, Breaking Bad, and Sherlock. As a result of much coaxing by her friends, she decided to write a 20’s romantic suspense as her breakout story.

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Fearless: Martini Club 4 – The Twenties by Amanda McCabe

Lady Jessica Hatton fled her high-society London life for one of investigative journalism in New York--only to be relegated to the fashion pages.  Searching for a juicy story leads her to The Bungalow, the city's most glamorous speakeasy--and its handsome, mysterious owner, Frank Markov.  But his past puts their hearts--and their lives--in danger...

Bio:

Amanda McCabe is the RITA-nominated author of almost 100 historical romances.  She's loved the 1920s since learning a version of the Charleston for a 5th grade dance recital, and watching 'Downton Abbey' too many times has only made the addiction worse!  Visit her at http://ammandamccabe.com

Creative Beginnings by Alison Henderson

I’m stoked! May is Creative Beginnings month, so it’s only appropriate that I’d be embarking on a new creative venture. On May 1^st, I received a contract for a new historical novella, The Treasure of Como Bluff. This story is a first for me in two ways. Number one: It’s the first piece of “new” writing I’ve sold. My first two books were originally written many years ago, so it’s reassuring to know I haven’t completely lost the touch. Number two: It was my first venture into writing a novella length story. Because several writers have expressed an interest in trying out this format, I thought I’d share my observations and experience.

When you’re used to writing 90K word novels, telling a complete story in 24K words is a challenge. At first, the rhythm didn’t come naturally to me. I had to stop and think about the structure far more often than I usually do. One technique I used to help with pacing was to shorten my usual 20 page chapters to 10 pages. For me, that helped moved the story along.

My long novels generally take place across several months, but for the novella, I compressed the time period to a couple of weeks so I wouldn’t have to scrimp on the number or quality of scenes. The abbreviated time frame also affected the progression of the romance. This is the first story I’ve written without a consummated love scene because I wanted the relationship to develop in a believable way within the context of the novella format.

Also, I sacrificed description, exposition and internal narrative in favor of dialogue. My books are always dialogue-heavy, but after the first chapter (when the hero is unconscious), this story is at least 75% dialogue. In some ways, it was more like writing a screenplay than a novel, but it forced me to let the characters drive the story. I’m happy to say they pulled out a few surprises and did a terrific job!

Here’s the blurb for The Treasure of Como Bluff:

In a race against rival bone hunters, the last complication paleontologist Caroline Hubbard needs is a dead man with a love letter in his pocket cluttering up her dig site. Her troubles multiply when she discovers the “deceased” stranger is still very much alive. He might have the chiseled features and impressive physique of a classical statue, but she’s not about to let him hamper her quest to unearth a new species of dinosaur and make her mark on the scientific world.

Nicholas Bancroft has come to Wyoming in search of silver, but after a blow to the head, he finds himself at the mercy of a prickly, determined female scientist. Despite his insistence that he’s just passing through, Caroline persuades him to help her stage an elaborate charade to save her job—a charade which casts Nick in the role of her husband.

Once the masquerade plays out, they face a big decision. Will they be able to look beyond their separate goals and see the true treasure right in front of them?

Alison Henderson

www.alisonhenderson.com