Monthly Archives: December 2013

Beat the Post Holiday Blues – Give Away

I confess I have no idea what our topic is supposed to be this week. It flew past as a notification (hey, dummy, write about this!) in my email while the family was in the midst of prepping for the holiday. And I was in the midst of getting the crappy winter cold that’s been going around. Let the score card read that this was my second chance at this one. I’m done. DONE. No more winter viruses. Unless the next illness includes zombies. And I’m – ya know – not one of the undead. Initially.

Long way of saying that the words I read regarding this week’s topic were not indelibly printed upon my brain. Hence, I wing it. Happy Holidays. 😀


You, dear reader, have needs. We comprehend this. Thus, I have a $25 Amazon gift card for one of our readers, though I do ask a tiny bit of you. Leave a comment, please, with at least two suggestions for topics you’d like read about in the coming year. We’ll entertain silly, fun, scary, what ever floats your reading boat. You have until 12/31 11:59:59 PM to leave your suggestions. At that point, we’ll pull a name out of our virtual hat. Leave me a means by which to contact you – email addy (format: name @ isp . com  – including spaces seems to cut spam a bit) or a Twitter handle. If that makes you uncomfortable, I’ll post the winner to this blog (and a means to reach me so you can take delivery of your loot) on 1/9 – when my turn comes around again.

Also, for your irreverent, Flying Spaghetti Monster entertainment, behold, a noodle-y miracle upon my Solstice orange:

FSM There’s probably something terribly ironic about a Wiccan getting a Solstice orange with the Flying Spaghetti Monster on it, and then taking it to share with the rest of her non-pagan family at Christmas. At least we all got a chuckle before messily devouring the orange.

Happy Holidays: Alexa Bourne’s New Release

I’m thrilled to introduce my writer buddy Alexa Bourne for a special holiday post. She’s got a new book, Liar, Liar, releasing soon, and she’s sharing holiday gift giving among her hero and heroine.


Hello and thank you to Sabrina Garie for hosting me today! My latest book, LIAR, LIAR, is due to release in the next few days by Decadent Publishing. ( I’m soooo excited to share this story with the world. The characters feel like good friends instead of fictional being who have lived inside my head for the last several years.

In the spirit of the season, I’ve asked both my hero, Grady, and my heroine, Devin, what they would get each other for Christmas if money were no object.

Devin: Grady loves the beach, the sound of the waves crashing on the shore, the curve of the waves as he surfs. I would fly him to the Hawaiian island of Oahu for a week of sun, sand and surfing.

Grady: Well, Dev spends most of her time worrying and taking care of other people so I’d get her a long weekend at a spa. She could have time to relax and other people would be tending to all her needs. Well, most of her needs. I’d have to sneak in for part of the time to take care of the rest.

Devin: Hey, Alexa, what would you choose as your ultimate gift if money were no object?

Grady: Oh, I can answer that. She’d love a trip around the world so she could take notes and jot ideas down for more kick-ass suspense stories.

Devin: Suspense stories with romance, Grady. You can’t forget that part.

Grady: Nope. Definitely don’t want to forget that.

Alexa: Wow, you two do know me so well! I would love to travel and create more stories as awesome as yours.

Well, we’re going back to our Christmas Eve festivities. From Devin, Grady, and me (Alexa), we wish you all a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!

Alexa BourneBio:

Alexa Bourne is a teacher by day and a romance writer by nights, weekends, and all school holidays. She also teaches online classes for writers throughout the year. She writes romantic suspense and contemporary romance and is thrilled to have the chance to share her stories with readers everywhere.

When she’s not concocting sinister plots and steamy love scenes or traveling and exploring new cultures, Alexa spends her time reading, watching brainless TV, and thinking about exercising. Okay, she also spends way too much time interacting with readers and writers on social media sites. But don’t tell her editors! Find out more about her and her books on her website,


Unable to protect her mother from her father as a child, Devin McQueen has made it her mission as an adult to protect as many abused women and children as she can. The rare moments she’s not consumed with work as a victims’ advocate, she limits her involvements to safe, predictable men….until she meets bounty hunter Grady Cooper. He is big, bold, brash, and has no problem speaking his mind.

Growing up in a broken home, Grady realized early on that good deeds had a price.  To survive, he learned to weigh every decision by what he could gain. Unfortunately, the successful, solitary life he’s worked so hard to create spins out of control when demons from his past shake his confidence. His boss has given him one last chance—bring in Devin’s latest client quickly, and quietly and maybe he’ll still have a job. It didn’t sound unreasonable until he met Devin.

Suddenly, Grady must make a decision: save his career or follow his heart?


If Grady Cooper had any hope of salvaging his professional reputation, he needed to charm Devin McQueen into giving him what she’d never given any other man.

He tucked his keys into his cargo shorts, stared up at the five-story office building and cursed the humidity.

And his dilemma.

Needing anyone was bad enough. Being forced to rely on a complete stranger to help prove he wasn’t a menace to society was as appealing as the Red Sox using his head for batting practice. If she refused to help him, he’d lose his job for sure.

“That’s not going to happen,” he whispered. He’d do whatever he had to, promise her the world even, to get himself out of this mess and restore his reputation. By the time she realized he had no intention of honoring his pledge, he’d be a free man and he could get back to chasing the bad guys instead of being labeled one.

Whatever it took.

He pushed the glass door open and flew up the stairs two at a time to the third floor. As he walked down the hallway, he glanced at the business names on the doors: law offices, non-profit offices, save the bleeding heart offices. Rooms of people he’d probably chased a bail jumper for at one time or another.

Loud thumps filtered into the hallway from somewhere up ahead.

The hairs on the back of his neck stood up. Trade rule number one: Always expect the worst. Still, the noises could have been any number of things: a fallen chair, a muffled voicemail message, boxes of printer paper being dropped. It could have been nothing connected to this woman.

As he got closer to the door with Soul Survivors carved on it, the name of McQueen’s business, the noises got louder. Glass shattered. A series of thumps passed from behind the door. A woman’s voice flew through the walls like a high-pitched war cry.

What if someone wanted Devin McQueen even more than Grady did?

Too bad. He had to put his own needs first.

Adrenaline pushed him. He turned the doorknob.

Damn it. Locked.

He shoved his shoulder against the wooden door. It budged. Barely. Inside, more glass broke. A male voice growled through a string of swear words.

Whoever stood on the other side of this door could not have her.

Grady gritted his teeth and jammed his shoulder against the door again. This time, it flew open and hurled him into the office.

Silence reigned across the room. With his shoulder throbbing, he scanned the scene. One upended chair, one thug cradling his nuts, the other, older one, bleeding from his nose and one wild-eyed woman in the center of it all. The bleeding man had his arms wrapped around the woman’s chest, crushing her…assets under his forearms.

Grady bit back a grin. If this was Devin McQueen, then some of the rumors were true. She could hold her own. But now she didn’t need to. “What’s the matter, guys? Couldn’t find anyone your own size to pick on?”

Tina’s Dark Christmas Elves Are Doing A Give-Away!

Having worked in retails for years I have lost most of my enthusiasm for Christmas. Let me just say that everyone, and I mean everyone from tiny toddler to sweet little granny, goes completely and utterly INSANE at this time of year!!!!

This is the first time in far too many years that I am not starting my workday at 4.30am in the morning to get to the store by 5am and set it up for Boxing Day madness. To celebrate the wonderful and exciting  (to me at least;)) fact, I am giving away two of my ebooks.

Tell me what you are excited about this Christmas for a chance to win a book of your choice. On Christmas Eve my Dark Elves will help me choose the winners! And let me just say we will have a lot of fun doing it….

Merry Christmas and a Very Happy New Year!

For a little fun:

Tina Christopher

Writer of Sexy Steampunk and Sensuous Sci-Fi available at Ellora’s Cave and Amazon.

Happy Holiday Wishes!

I’d like to take this opportunity to wish everybody a safe, healthy and happy Holidays! See you in the New Year!

Here’s a little video for you to enjoy – Hunky Santas – The Holiday Card. Enjoy!



Happy Holidays and a Joyful New Year

Wishing you a wonderful holiday season and Happy New Year!

VLChristmascardIf you find that you have a moment, and need to put up your feet, I have a free holiday read available at Musa Publishing – Christmas Crossroad – along with several free reads from Musa authors – so check it out for some holiday reading! click here My story features Leo and Andre from Lover’s Trill.

Have a wonderful holiday! See you next year!

Viki Lyn

Meanwhile, in the North Pole

In the North Pole, tucked away in a corner of Santa’s village, is a small cottage, distinguished from all the other cottages by the lack of Christmas lights and decorations. One would be forgiven for thinking Scrooge lives there, for how could anyone else resist the lure of the holiday season, with its sparkle and anticipation of good things to come? It’s only on closer inspection, perhaps by sneaking up to a window and peeking in through the almost-drawn curtains, that one would realize the spirit of fun was indeed in full swing within. For this is the home and workshop of Smutty the Dark Elf, who is hard at work creating and testing a variety of toys and gifts for those not-so-good adults on Santa’s list.

Oh, dear. It seems as though Smutty’s already worn out his helpers. There are naked men and women crashed out all over the place, a few of them with…um…personal pleasure devices still in place. There’s a couple who seemed to have been experimenting with a rather intriguing sex-swing built for two. While they’re limp in the straps, the intricate bungee-style cords holding them are still gently bouncing and there must be still some pleasure involved, as both release soft moans with each jiggle of the apparatus. In one corner is a stripper pole, in the other a claw-foot bathtub filled with what are apparently edible bubbles, as the couple within it are slowly licking each other, uninhibited by the suds.

Smutty himself is sitting by the fire, reading. The book on his lap is bound in dark-red leather and stamped with gold lettering and designs. It looks very old, and I’m afraid I can’t decipher the runic writing, but Smutty is smiling, so I think it’s something interesting.

“I need to try this out,” he mutters, glancing up from the page and scanning the room. He makes a little sound of annoyance when he sees none of his helpers are stirring and, setting the book carefully aside, he gets up. Crossing to an intercom on the other side of the room, he presses a button. “Lisel?” he says into the mouthpiece.

“Yes, Smutty?” The female voice is tinny, but even so the anticipation in it is clear.

“I need you.”

Before he can even finish, there’s a flash of silver light, and Lisel appears with a broad smile on her face. “What for?”

It seems that whatever it is, she’s up for it, because as she speaks she’s already taking off her clothes. Smutty laughs, low and deep, then snaps his fingers. Lisel’s clothes disappear in a flash, and she laughs with him, obviously thrilled by the move.

“You read a lot of Ellora’s Cave books, don’t you?” Smutty asks the now-naked woman and her eyes brighten, as she nods emphatically. “Have you read Jaguar in the Sun by Anya Richards?”

“Yes…” she whispers. “It was hot.”

“I thought so too,” Smutty says, his grin widening. “And I wondered about the whole atraspa thing. Did she make it up? Does it exist?”

His voice trails away, and Lisel’s eyes widen. “Did you find out anything about it?”

“Oh, yes.” Smutty points to the book he’d been reading, and Lisel glances over at it. “I found the original book on sex magic. Copies of the manual would make great gifts, if atraspa works…”

Lisel doesn’t seem to have a chance to answer, as she suddenly shudders, her nipples visibly tightening, a rush of pink racing over her torso and up into her face. Seems as though Smutty’s trying his hand at atraspa. Staggering backward, Lisel flops into a chair with a little moan. “Crap, that’s good.”

“Yeah,” Smutty answers, but he sounds pretty breathless too, and his face is red. It’s obvious Smutty’s finding the experiment in atraspa highly enjoyable too. Maybe he didn’t read far enough into the book to realize there’s a lot of practice needed to really master the art. While Lisel is writhing in her chair, Smutty’s legs are beginning to wobble and a wet spot is spreading over his silk, red-and-green striped pants. And WOW! For such a slim, slight guy, it’s clear the dark elf is really well endowed, if that yule log visible through the silk is anything to go by.

“Fuck!” Lisel spreads her legs wide and her hips jerk in the unmistakable motions of someone getting it good. “More! Harder! Oooo…No! Not my…!”

She screams, her back arching, hips rising off the seat, just as Smutty drops to the ground, shouting and coming, drenching his pants.

For long minutes the only sounds are the rasp of their breathing and murmurs of interest from the other assistants around the room. Smutty lies on his back, his chest rising and falling rapidly, his cock still clearly erect.

“Damn,” he mutters. “That was incredible.” Sitting up, he looks around and claps his hands. “Okay everyone, start transcribing that manuscript into all languages and get the books into production. Every dirty adult gets one in their stocking, along with a copy of Jaguar in the Sun.”

“Um, Smutty,” says one of the assistants, as he disentangles himself from his last partner, who’s in the process of pulling a candy-cane striped penis pump off his cock. “Don’t you think we should try that atraspa stuff out for ourselves before you send it out into the world?”

“Are you nuts?” Smutty glares around the room, making eye-contact with all the other elves. “We have less than ten days to get this all together before Christmas. If you all start doing it to each other, we may as well lock the shop up from now, since there’ll be nothing else done.” Then he grins and, changing into clean pants with a snap of his fingers, reminds them, “But we’ll have Boxing Day—and the rest of the year—to experiment.”

With a loud, “Hurrah!” the elves spring into action, and I slip away to hurry home and hang my stocking, hoping to find something naughty from Smutty and his elves in it on Christmas morning…


Book four in the Unveiled Seductions series.

Cassandra Solinar has a bucket list and jaguar god Xbal Montegro is on it. About to undergo an essential rite she won’t survive, she wants to wring every ounce of pleasure out of the time left. Including discovering if Xbal’s sex magic technique is as good as rumored.

It’s no hardship for Xbal to accept Cassandra’s invitation for one erotic encounter, but far more difficult to let her go once he gets a taste of the explosive passion between them. Now he’s determined to hold on to her, no matter what.

Cassie can’t tell Xbal the truth about what she’s about to do. It’s illegal, but without her death the entire world will perish. It’s a job she’s been preparing for from birth, but the loss will be greater now. For in Xbal she finds a soul-deep connection she doesn’t want to lose, and the one thing she made a point of not putting on her bucket list—love.


Journeys Through Seduction

Anya Richards/Anya Delvay books available from Samhain Publishing, Ellora’s Cave, Amazon, Barnes and Noble, and Chapters Indigo.

The Dark Days of Christmas

What would a dark elf slip into Santa’s bag besides Sabrina’s new book? Why, for the bookish but less romantically inclined, it would have to be an H.P. Lovecraft inspired holiday. The Necronomicon would be a great gift! Who wouldn’t enjoy a little light and mind-destroying reading about the Elder Gods? I’m sure that wouldn’t end badly! Not on Christmas day, right? The insanity would likely require at least 24 hours to take hold. Surely the sacrifices and bloodshed would hold off until Boxing Day.

For the younger, budding cultist, a plush stuffed likeness of Cthulu or the almighty Daigon would be just the thing. The child’s screams of terror in the night insisting that the toys are whispering foul, horrible things? Overactive imagination. Surely! Just note that the links between children receiving these toys causing an increase in playing with matches and various accelerants – totally spurious. Correlation. Causality hasn’t been established.

For the musically inclined, Santa’s cultist elf would slip this CD into the gift pile. It’s a real thing you can order favssrom Cthulu Lives. Of course, maybe all a dark elf would have to do for the gamers on your list is bring the newest MMORPG. Elder Scrolls. Wildstar. You’d never see your game addicted family members again.

Naughty Gifts from a Dark Elf

Our blog theme for the two weeks heading toward Christmas is gifts from a dark elf. Well, coincidently, my newest book just released on Friday, December 6 from Ellora’s Cave. It has just the right amount of naughty and fun  to do a dark elf proud. So from the dark elf to you, here’s my latest release, Thirteen Nights, Book 1 (Divine Temptation).



Book Description:

Annie’s always been different. An empathic Amazon, she hides her emotional anomaly beneath her legendary fighting skills. To avoid passing on her genetic disorder, she’s always avoided the Thirteen Nights Ritual—the annual breeding rite among the warrior races of the Greek Pantheon. Only months away from 30, she is now duty-bound to participate. When she meets Tai, a half-human warrior who revs her up beyond legal limits and nurtures the gentleness she’s had to keep secret, thirteen nights of pleasure don’t seem nearly enough.

As a half human, Tai has survived by being faster, more lethal, and a whole lot smarter than his brethren. While the male warriors accept him for his achievements, the Amazons have never given him a second look. Until he meets Annie, whose smile is warm and real and whose body shudders with desire—for him. Determined to have her, he hacks into the Thirteen Nights database and rearranges the pairings to make Annie his breeding partner. Together, their strength and tenderness combust into pure love.

But Tai’s actions are forbidden under Amazon law, subject to a death. To stay together and alive, they must take on the Greek Pantheon and win.

Buy Links:

Ellora’s Cave:


All Romance:




A strong drink in hand, she found her seat by matching the number on her name tag with the table number. Following the instructions on the card, she swiped it over the datapad and put her thumbprint on the screen where directed. That would tap into her medical records to ensure genetic compatibility. A bell rang in the distance and the first male slid into the seat. A small human. She smiled politely but knew that weak frame could never handle an Amazon lover. Humans were not forbidden, but strongly discouraged. Not all were as frail as this one, but humans usually wanted more than the Amazon vows permitted. The bell couldn’t come soon enough. Annie clandestinely hit the no button on the pad.

A giant of a man swaggered into the now-open seat, all testosterone and appetite. Linebacker shoulders, six-pack abs straining against a muscle shirt chosen to show them off, thighs so big they could choke a horse—and probably had. Elaborate tattooing covered his left arm from shoulder to wrist, detailing every victory, every kill. Similar markings ran diagonally across Annie’s back.

He touched his card to the pad and instantly his resume popped up on her screen. Black belts in karate, kendo and Kung Fu, expert sniper, awarded the Golden Shield—the Gargarean symbol for valor—six times, hobbies included hunting, archery and jousting. Okay, the man could kill, but who was he really?

“I’ll give you a good ride. You’ll be well-sated. I’ve fathered two already, one on a first-timer.” Typical Gargarean—built for show and incapable of mincing words. His eyes burned over her, intent blazing so fierce she felt the heat crawl across her skin. It was said the male warriors went celibate for six months before a breeding to build their lust to a fever pitch. From that look, she’d say it was true for this one.

She nodded, splaying well-manicured, fire-engine-red nails on the table. The male covered one hand, pushing his palm against the tips.

“Yes,” he rumbled. “They’ll feel good tearing through my back when you lose control.” He laid his left arm out in front of her, an invitation to test the strength of him, and show off his prowess. As expected, she walked her fingers along the planes and angles of his muscles, periodically digging her nails in to test his reaction to different pain levels—to see if he really could handle her and show respect for his military achievements. Those muscles would ripple well under her fingers and nails.

A Gargarean in his prime, proven in battle and the bedroom. She should want this. Damn the little voice in her head that told her that it wasn’t enough for the father of her child, so she rated him acceptable, not preferred. Some part of her she kept well-buried thought it would be nice to find someone with an interest beyond weapons and bloodletting. Someone who could handle, I don’t know, maybe a conversation. The next twelve nights joined at the groin could be a lifetime.

Each new Gargarean who plopped down in front of her merged into the next one until she couldn’t distinguish among them. They all rang the same—deadly, dominant and completely interchangeable. She knew she was a desired partner, and would be many of these men’s first choice. The male warriors liked to boast about knocking up the first-timers, it was worn as a sign of their sexual prowess. The DNA compatibility test would have to choose one of them for her. She didn’t really care.

Lost in frustration, she didn’t register the newest candidate in front of her. The blue light on the screen identified him as Gargarean, but he lacked the giant muscular proportions of the male warrior race, that scent of pure dominance and heightened testosterone. Oh, his eyes revealed menace and the lethality of the warrior-bred and his arm tattooing was as detailed and complex as the bigger men who came before him. But he had the lean, muscled strength of a human soldier, the power he emanated more subtle and highly controlled. From the way her lower body pulsed, she liked it. A lot. When she eyed the screen with more focus, the mystery resolved itself. Tai, human father, Amazon mother, given to the Gargareans at birth. That explained his size. “How did you survive their training as a youth?”

“Your mind can bring you to places your body cannot.”

“That’s not a very Gargarean philosophy.” Or Amazon for that matter, even though she agreed with him. “How would your background play out over the twelve nights?”

“Each night more attuned to your needs than the next. You would be seduced across all dimensions, pleasured in the realm of mind, body and spirit.” He flashed her a smile that promised all kinds of sin, but those deep brown eyes, so tender and soulful, pledged warmth and humor. With that, her panties were drenched, her nipples bullet hard, and tingles ran up her spine straight into her brain. Swallowing, she struggled to pull it all back under control and explore this possibility in more detail.

“Your expertise is…” She lifted an eyebrow. “Cyber security.” She placed her hand on the table as she did for all the others. Instead of using his palm to test the bite of her nails, he ran his finger across her knuckles and down her thumb, a lingering caress that promised gentleness, not just a good, hard ride. When he offered her his arm, she did the same up his wrist to his elbow, watching lust flicker in his eyes as her fingers glided across his skin. “You’re not like your brethren, in many ways it seems.”

“No, but I think that’s the pot calling the kettle black and it pleases you.” His voice lowered a decibel, the sound a rough caress around her body. “Why? Most of your sisterhood reject me out of hand for my size, my human heritage, even my talents.” His gaze locked onto hers and held it in an iron grip. He might be small for a warrior of the Greek pantheon, but he made it clear he was no less potent and he wasn’t going anywhere without an answer.

“Because you’re different…like me.” She was not at all sure she should have confirmed his observation but she felt no deception coming from him. “It tempts me.” She gave him her biggest, sexiest smile.

“Choose me.” His gaze still tethered to hers, he glided his forefinger along her lips in a quiet tease. “I’ll make it worth it to you.”

Our Christmas Tradition

We must have the oldest Christmas glass lights on our street.  They date back many years…I am not sure how old they are and I wonder if the neighbors ever get sick of seeing the same lights (see below pic) year after year…but they sure are pretty.

In our family we tend to really stick to tradition. We still have some of the first glass Christmas tree ornaments my parents bought back in the 1960’s. If you drop them, that’s it, they smash apart and they are gone. So we have to be very careful. “Treat them like eggs”, my dad would say.


Before my dad had his devastating stroke,  he would drag us out into the woods or sometimes to a Christmas tree farm to cut down our own spruce Christmas tree. Then he would curse as he sawed the bottom of the tree, and trim the branches to make it fit into the house. He would continue his cussing while he strung the lights and then the ornaments and the silver tinsel, always wanting everything to look perfect.  But when the deed was done he would smile and say “this is the nicest tree we’ve ever had, don’t you think?” Without fail, he would say it every year. LOL

The following is a true story:

I remember one year we were at the cottage on a mission to find and cut down our perfect Christmas tree. We had plans to put it into the trunk of the car and bring it home. We drove along a secluded cottage road until we spied a good tree. That perfect tree just happened to be on the road outside the local dump.

Well, my dad didn’t want to get into trouble for cutting a tree so close to the road, so he put me as lookout to make sure no cars were coming…unfortunately before he could cut our tree, I saw an approaching car. We hopped into our car and sped off into the dump and waited until the coast was clear…as we waited we heard the car slow down on the main road. Heard the distinct sound of a car door slam, someone sawing, another car door slam and car leaving…huh.


When the car was gone we headed back out to the main road…and discovered our perfect Christmas tree was GONE! My dad was so not amused but after our shock wore off we laughed so hard. Talk about a weird coincidence that two parties would be out on the same road at the same time, on the same mission and eyeing the same tree! We did find another tree further down the road that year, but it just wasn’t the same. But we laughed all the way home that year.

I hope you enjoyed my Christmas Tradition post. 🙂

Hugs and Happy Holidays!!!


Under the Misa’ltoe


So we’re blogging about Christmas traditions. As a family of seven (yes, shut up) we’ve adapted our traditions as the years have gone by and the children have gotten older. A few things have stayed the same, like I’ll do the dinner at midday, before they have chance to gorge themselves on chocolate. But we tend to forgo the normal Christmas food – last year was the first we got anywhere close to eating turkey, as we had four bird roast.

Christmas mornings start later, thank goodness. We get up and first order of the day is presents. My OH and myself haven’t really bought for each other, but Christmas is about children and not adults in my opinion. Once the living room resembles an explosion in a wrapping paper factory, I’ll ring my parents and have a natter. Then it’s organising lunch and fielding questions on how the new toys work.

Afternoons are for chilling – Christmas television and wine, eventually thinking about what to eat later. Since 2005, roughly six o’clock means a Doctor Who special, which is pretty much my highlight. It will be this year, as I say a tearful ‘goodbye’ to Matt Smith and welcome Peter Capaldi (woot!)

Then it’s more TV and buffet food. I decided many years ago that I’d go for easy options rather than trying to stick to the usual traditions, and as a whole that tactic has worked. We have a quiet family day with very little stress. And I think that’s exactly as it should be.

Misa Buckley is a sci fi geek who escapes the crazy of raising five children by creating imaginary characters who experience adventure, romance and really hot sex on their way to a happily-ever-after. You can keep up to date with Misa’s latest news by following her on Twitter or at her website.

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