A need for speed? Let's do Zero to Sixty up against a wall.

Saturday, January 30, 2016

 
 
Rod McLemore crosses paths with Margo Santero on the fly.
Their random hook up is akin to flint and fuel, igniting into a firestorm romance
 
TOO HOT TO HANDLE

 
 
 
A need for speed!
And 'some'...
 
 
 
Margo Santero isn't an ordinary girl.
As a barrel racer on a rodeo circuit, hanging around ropers, bronco busters, and bull riders she's toughened up. A lot!
 
On the run for over a year, she isn't naïve.
Foolish to think she is.
Would you be?
 
rodeo girls cowgirls gif
 
From ZERO TO 60 this fireball Western romance hurls
MARGO SANTERO into the crosshairs of a Marine recently discharged from duty.
ROD McLEMORE is the cousin of the McLemore brothers.
 
We met him in Collared By the Cowboy.
Rod and his brother Cade are the darker versions of Matt, Stephen, Brandon, Rory, and Miller.
Rod and Cade have been through hell and back, serving four tours of duty overseas.
 

 



 
 
 
DREAM CAST:
 
MARGO SANTERO ~Megan Etcheberry
ROD McLEMORE ~ Brad Pitt
 
 
THEME SONG:
 
YEE HAW FOR THE JAN 30 SAT SPANKS BLOG HOP 
 

 

 
 
 
 
 
#SATSPANKS
 
TOO HOT TO HANDLE TEASER 
 
“Baby,” I groaned, pounding into her and making her climax the way she begged me for. Merciless. Raw. To the point that I’d hurt her—I wanted to. Fuuuck.
 How can I hunger to hurt her? She’s tiny. A woman. I had her by eight inches and could capably deliver brute force. Had I finally snapped?
“Please, Rod,” she begged, “Don’t hold back.”
Curling my arm tighter around her waist, I hauled her hips higher, and thrust my fingers so deep inside her she whimpered.
Hurt wasn’t the right word. Even as I hungered to spank her, bruise her skin, it wasn’t an act to harm her. It was primal, an urge—animalistic.
Shit, I withdrew my fingers and spun her around. “You’re mine to fuck. Say it.”
     Looking dazed and glowing, she whispered, “I’m yours.”
~ YUM!~ 

 

 

 
Available in ebook and paperback on Amazon 
January 2016 sales go to benefit Semper Fi Fund.


 
 
 

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Freedom isn't free. Too Hot To Handle explores the sacrifice of war.

Wednesday, January 27, 2016

Two brothers, Rod and Cade return from being deployed overseas as Marines in active duty. What they've survived is kept housed deep within themselves.

Like everyone on the planet they've got skeletons in their closets. Cade and Rod weren't perfect when they enlisted. Returning to Evermore Ranch, they splinter, each choosing a path toward self-destruction. Only when they're forced to the brink, does each man veer away the edge and commit to a different means to deal with their pain.

 
Free ebook as part of the Kindle Unlimited program.

~T E A S E R ~
 
 
“Don’t waste your breath. Margo is on her own,” Campesino retorted bitterly. “Until she comes to her senses, I don’t care what she does. And I don’t speak only for myself. Her father is in full agreement with me. She needs a dose of humility, and if you’re the man to teach it to her, so be it. Frankly, I hope you’re the biggest asshole she comes across, so she realizes just what she threw away.”

Anger flickered on the periphery of my mind like a flame ready to burst into existence. “You’re mistaken if you think she’s going to miss whatever it was you supplied. I’ll make sure she’s taken care of.”

“Let me know when she wears you out.” He glowered, waving off the hotel security. “We can all go out for a drink and trade Margo war stories.”

What was it like for her as a small child to grow up around this conniving SOB? A venomous river laced his barbed words and the cold expression he wore as he talked about Margo were telltale of a greater brutality. I’d seen shit—mountains—but this was incomprehensible. He was talking about his niece and included Nate in his heartless outlook.

“She’s a young woman. What stories could you possibly have on her?” Inhaling a lungful of air, I forced out some of the fury this asshole inspired with a sharp exhale.

“Lots.” He walked away without another word.

Without looking back.

What if he wasn’t lying about Margo’s dad? Is this how they’d leave her tomorrow? A young woman without a net. And thanks to my fucked-in-the-head brother, I now had no doubts that when she implied things were hard at home, she wasn’t being overly dramatic.

“Happy jackass?” I walked up to Cade and he shrugged.

“Never thought I’d hear a man say that about his niece. Got yourself permission to fuck the girl and fuck her over from her own family. Her own father. Campesino said he spoke for Nate. Who would’ve thought those fuckers were such pricks?”

 Prick,” I corrected him. “Don’t include Margo’s dad. If you believe everything that piece of shit just spouted, then you’re an idiot. You’ve crossed a line. It’s only because I understand how screwed up you are that I don’t beat you senseless.”

“What do ya want me to say? Thanks and I’m sorry?” He chuckled, bending to pick up the pieces of his phone. His laughter was saturated with the same darkness I’d heard since we were discharged.

“Everything in this world isn’t expendable,” I growled.

“Oh isn’t it? Guess you conveniently forgot this is the throwaway culture. You. Me. Every Marine we served with can be replaced. Just a set of hands, feet, eyes. People give zero fucks what we went through.”

 “Just because a few asswad politicians and some folks act like the military is a disposable commodity, doesn’t give you an excuse to do the same. Drugs, porn—you’re on a road trip through hell. A journey you’re not taking me on, bro. I shed the target on my back, the moment I boarded a plane and returned home. If you don’t get help, I’ll track your ass and when you make your next score, I’ll contact the DEA. You’re a moron if you believe I’ll sit around and effectively allow you free rein to fuck me over.”

“Then I’ll fuck over that girl,” he said as if Margo were nothing but a bargaining chip in his warped little world.

It was like a low-level burst of electricity discharged over my scalp and down my spine. Time slowed. “This is about you and me. No one else.”

“Not anymore. Margo is invited to this party. If I don’t get what I need, I’ll crucify her.”

I ate up the distance between us and got right in Cade’s face. Close enough to look into his sky blue eyes. The exact color of our mother’s. But he wasn’t anything like our mom. And I hauled back and swung, punching him square in his face, so hard a jolt of pain tore across my knuckles.

“What the fuck, Rod?” He cupped his hands around his nose as blood streamed between the cracks of his fingers.

I went over to the deserted hotel bar and grabbed a handful of napkins. Walking up to Cade, I practically threw them at him. “To help you remember, I’m dead serious. Go near Margo, and there won’t be a place you can run.”
 -o-x-
In Too Hot To Handle, Rod and Cade battle using their fists and ineffective words. It'll take a raging storm to unlock them from their past. Margo is that force for Rod.
 
 
 

 
 



 



 



Too Hot To Handle (Book #10) is also available in paperback

418 pages of sizzling Western heat!

 
Amazon Print Link
 

In Love You Harder (releasing this in late spring), the doors are blown off what these brothers went through before the war.


The last book (actually two: novella book #11 and L.Y.H. #12) in the Bad Boys series ties all the threads together, starting with who is Carolina Rodriguez? Really?

Why was the tinge of organized crime so interested in Annona, Texas? What secret is housed with Evermore? With those initial answers, you'll begin to understand why it's possible for a band of brothers and cousins to decide to make the ultimate sacrifice to save their family and town.
The finale of this series will punch you in the solar plexis. If you've read the series, grown to love the McLemore family, there is no way around, you will rage, vent and possibly hate me as an author, but you will remember: FREEDOM ISN'T FREE!

 


NOT FICTION...
Coming out of fantasyland, it's usually in the evening when I take a spin around reality
and see what the heck has gone on.

 





 

And I find how truly weird, wacky or wacko the world has been.

From El Nino to the H-bomb (thank you not N. Korea!)
to a photographer reminding us that freedom isn't free!
 
Sergeant Kirstie Ennis: “There’s never a reason to give up”

 
CALL TO ACTION: PLEASE, HIT THE GOOGLE BUTTON OR SHARE VIA FB, TWEETER, OR INSTAGRAM
#FREEDOMISNOTFREE
 
AUTHOR AND PUBLISHER (SILVER SPROCKET) ARE DONATING THEIR PORTION OF THE JANUARY 2016 SALES TO SEMPER FI FUND.
THANKS FOR SPREADING THE WORD TO RAISE FUNDING FOR THIS AWESOME RESOURCE FOR OUR WOUNDED MARINES!
 

By the Rules (Evergreen Grove #3) by Elisabeth Staab

Wednesday, January 27, 2016

 


 
By the Rules (Evergreen Grove #3) by Elisabeth Staab
M/M Romance
Release Date: 1/19/2016
 


He thinks I want him because of the rumors around town. Because I think he’s easy. I want AJ, because he’s AJ.

 

No liars. No suits. Absolutely no straight guys…

 

AJ Fabin’s list of rules keeps him safe. Since getting kicked out of his parents’ home and attacked by a former escorting client, his rules and his life in the tiny town of Evergreen Grove provide a quiet haven. He may be lonely, and he may stick out like a sore thumb, but the folks like him well enough. When he’s not dodging his old pimp, things are peaceful.

 

Hayden Price is having a quarter-life crisis. Engaged to a woman he can’t connect to and working a job he secretly hates, he comes to Evergreen Grove to help his mother through a health scare. Returning to his childhood home makes Hayden reevaluate a lot of things, including himself. When he meets AJ and finds he can’t stand the mouthy jerk—almost as much as he can’t stop thinking about him—he has a lot more to change than his career.

 

To be together, they’ll both have to break all of their rules.

 

By the Rules is book 3 in the Evergreen Grove series, but reads as a standalone.

 


  

Excerpt

(Hayden's POV)

“Did you shower already?”

 

He sniffs like the concept is beneath him. “I’ll shower at home.” He’s limping when he walks over to grab his backpack.

 

That ankle’s hurting him and it’s my fault. I was an ass for trying to show him up. “Hey, listen. Sorry about knocking you down like that. Really.” I close the gap between us to offer a hand, but he doesn’t even make a show of accepting. I don’t really know what to do with that. In my world, you shake a guy’s hand. For appearances if nothing else. For the sake of politeness. So you don’t burn bridges with a contact you might need later.

 

AJ and I clearly aren’t playing by the same set of rules.

 

He looks down at my hand. “It’s boxing. It happens. I’ll be fine. Don’t let it keep you up at night.” Except he winces when he takes another step. He doesn’t want me to know he’s in pain.

 

That limp of his drives the guilt I was already feeling deeper into my gut. “Hey.” I pull on his arm to get his attention. “Stop. Are you planning to walk to that motel where you work? It’s all the way on the edge of town. Why don’t you come with me to my mom’s? It’s closer, and then I can give you some ibuprofen and a ride.”

My grabbing hand pulls AJ’s shirt down and to the side, exposing a piece of one of his tattoos. I noticed it before—one of those dancing guys with a flute—whaddyacallit? A Kokopelli.

 

“Isn’t this a fertility symbol?”

 

“I prefer to think of him as a traveling gigolo. Seemed to fit at the time, Suit.” When AJ lets out a heavy breath and our eyes meet, I realize I’ve been running my fingers over the black lines on his chest without thinking—or permission.

 

Shit. I pull my hand back. The heat of his skin seeping into mine reminds me of things better left in the past.

 

I clear my throat. “Sorry. I didn’t—I was only curious. About the ink.” Jesus, that was a shitty slip and an even shittier save attempt. There are rules about these things with guys. Touching should be brief, impersonal, and possibly pain-inducing. Unless somebody died.

 

AJ hasn’t moved and hasn’t responded to my offer of a lift home. In order to fill the silence, I decide to ask, “Hey, I was wondering. Those tattoos…”

 

What are they covering? Where did you get those scars?

 

AJ lunges, putting us molecules from being chest to chest. Hard, chilly blasts of air conditioning remind me that he’s fully dressed and I’m wearing nothing but an undersized towel that is currently holding on with sheer luck and probably not enough determination.

 

“Yeah, I’ll bet you were wondering. I’ll bet you’re curious about a lot of things, aren’t you, Suit?” He looks me up and down appraisingly. I assume he’s trying to make me uncomfortable.

 

It’s working.

 

About the Author

 


Elisabeth Staab started hunting mutant hedgehogs back in 1842… Oops, wrong bio… Elisabeth Staab digs coffee, saucy stories, and sexy things that go bump in the night. Once, she ate dinner in a jail and liked it. She lives in the Washington DC area with her incredible family and does her best to juggle life while ignoring the laundry.

 


 

Follow the Tour

 
 


For more chances to win follow the tour! You can find the rest of the tour stops HERE.

 

The Giveaway

 
 
There’s a tour wide giveaway for a $50 Amazon Gift Card!

For a chance to win just fill out the giveaway form CLICK HERE to enter!


 

How far will you go to rank as an Amazon Best Seller?

Tuesday, January 26, 2016


When a writer sells a manuscript, it's cause for celebration. At first. But in a world of publishing, it's about the benjamins.
 

 
Yet in being an author, after a while, there is an inverse relationship to the green. Subtle and hard to perceive or address without sounding as if chomping on self-righteous sour grapes. I’m not. Here’s my proof dated today (Jan 25, 2016), Amazon ranking overall on Kindle 329. #77 in contemporary romance. Is this my first time, no. I've gotten onto this list, getting up to #25 overall on Amazon, #1 in subgenres, and I'm not here to brag. But this time it was different and deserves an explanation.


 
 

If you’re new to publishing, those numbers aren’t easy to attain. Am I doing a dance of glee? Not exactly. I’m taking this opportunity to talk tough about the sacrifice of writing. My drug of choice. And to unearth some truth.
 

Well that's a lie... yes I am. And I prefer to be called 'Catnip' okay?
 
Easy to put off, especially during a brief exodus into crazy town during a release. That’s when it becomes evident I’ve sanctioned my own insanity caught up as a cog in an industry moored in social media now more than ever. Don't get me wrong, I'm grateful to so many, many people. For a post-neurosurgery-gone-wrong-writer, this road is both a blessing and a crutch. Check off a way to avoid pain. A doorway beyond the physical. A means to an end. It's like volunteering for the 2016 Ranking Game.
 
 
ONCE UPON A TIME, right after NaNo 2012, an editor snagged Tempted in less than two minutes via a tweet. Tempted is the first cowboy tale of a ten-book series and I wish I could do things over. But I can’t. I can only share what I’ve learned. This story went through the grind of a release to become a cross to bear aka an education as well as heartache. What I learned could be published as The Good, The Sad, and The Ugly side of romance writing. If there is one thing anyone who ever wondered about writing a book and calling herself an author, might think about, it’s this:

 
 

The euphoria in writing isn't connected to rankings. It isn't bank deposits. It’s in the process of creation. And when a writer decides to submit to it as a career, dare I name it a calling, then this madness becomes more about talent and about improvement, refinement. At least it is for me.

 
 

We all want to write a great book. A good book is a mark of a good writer. But how to measure what is good?

It’s subjective and near impossible to do with a consistent yardstick when none exist. Literary marketing has nothing whatsoever to do with the writing aptitude of an author. It's more. It’s a talent that is hard to perceive unless you understand what you’re looking at. People mistake PR, advertising, and promotions for creative writing competence and nothing could be further or more polar to the truth.



When it comes to selling a product, a book (print or ebook) qualifies as an object with a price; it isn’t based upon an author’s literary dexterity—it’s grounded first and foremost in good old-fashioned popularity beyond Amazon.
 
Most of us believe, falsely, that only applies to those other writers. Our novel doesn't require fabricated hype. And chances are during the pre-release phase you've got family and friends thrilled for you.
 
 
The adrenaline dumping into your bloodstream makes everything in the world glittery--it's the ultimate high. Fantastic and a little nauseous is how one feels heading out the gate when it's your first book. 

 
 
 

 

Whether online or in person, your peeps shows up and share your news. Same when it's your second, third... but what about when it's your 30th release?
 
      Suddenly, people have lives too. And if you haven't snagged a rung on the NY Bestseller's list, well we can't expect the peeps to wait around f-o-r-ever. Can we? For kicks, let's say we didn't toss out a book willy-vanilly but actually planned. A little. As in studied what successful writers were doing.  Unless you've contracted one of the big six or is it five? Your release is your gig for the most part. That means recruiting your team is on you.
    The street team required isn't composed of faces you'd recognize in the flesh. And the skill set you've got to develop isn't related to weaving a story world. Kinda. We'll revisit that one in another post. For now, it’s the fork in the road that resembles a carefully constructed spider web constructed of connections.
  • Think factions.
  • Think popular.
  • Think rock star quality…if you want to make it big.   
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Is that some sort of conundrum?  I am alive. How is that helpful?

 
My point isn’t an exercise in teeth gnashing, but to draw out a premise that might help someone. Before a writer leaps off the cliff, executing a swan dive into the publishing pool, just keep in mind, it’s larger than the concept of ‘Will I sink or swim?’ Help yourself by coming to grips with a huge reality that most folks fail to recognize. Or fail to grow. There isn’t a jump, dive, or belly flop because in fact, there is no pool. Similar to a field of dreams, our wordsmith quest is to cultivate the land.

 
We’ll only go as far as our social media platform permits. An author’s reach is directly linked to connections. Or idiomatically if not biblically, what we reap, we sow.

 
 
 
So before releasing that first book, think long and hard on what it is you wish to do? See your name in print for a single release? Or possibly spin this into a career? Regardless if you’re socially adroit, a child prodigy, or born under a lucky star. Won’t matter if you hail from the panster or plotter camp either. Today, a writer wishing to retain an iota of control in an industry that churns out thousands of books daily, you can’t escape the bare necessity that involves, yep a plan. The first book released defines an author. It imprints who we are, our skill set, and becomes the calling card we can’t escape if we aren’t careful.

 


If you’re a writer just starting out, you’re in luck by being in the driver’s seat. As such, it’s your responsibility to know the rules of the road. And what it means to rank on a list.  Begin now to map out the journey.
 
Plug in the steps to grow your social media platform, whether it’s Instagram or FB. Learn the lessons before it is too late, which includes pretty graphics to post. You can use Word, PowerPoint, or Photoshop to name a few. Here's your very own cheat sheet link on sizing (SO IMPORTANT! ) Click here or below. Trust me, you need this and do follow the link.

If you can't hire a PR firm, then start small with a book tour company. There are vast numbers and again, check them out. See what they've done for their clients. Yet you still have to do the ground work. Optimally, a writer would begin at least a year or two before the first release.
I started here as in blogging.
Pre-release, that is exactly what a writer should be doing: blog. Nothing major, just be consistent and pick a theme.
What else?
  • Find a photo stock company, set up an account, and download images to use in teasers, trailers, promotions, and social media posts announcing your release, and well before to get your name out in the public's eye.
  • Join a writer group and ask lots and lots of marketing questions.
  • Decide on a budget and stick to it.
  • Swag? Are you pro or con or have no idea? Then join investigate other authors and see what they're offering up. How do they do it? Is it something you truly love!
  • Book conventions? They're terrific ways to get your name out, especially if one is local. Otherwise, investigate who is running it, their experience, who attended, and costs. Out-of-town conventions can run an author into the thousands to attend. If not, what about a bookstore nearby? Can you set up a table there one evening to give a book talk?
  • Branding. It's never to early to decide on an author logo, blog or website theme which is then translated outward to your social media sites down to tiny favicons.
  • Read. Read about marketing. Read about social media engagement. Read fiction writing (craft)books. Read from your genre. Stay abreast of what is happening in this industry via Publisher's Weekly (PW). From your reading, you can write shorts posts and connect with the author or blogger, letting him/her know you've written about them or their post or ideas.
  • Enter contests or judge them to gain recognition.
  • And always, always ALWAYS stay positive, cheerful, amused online. Save your rants and venting to share with your BFF, your poor spouse, or use frustration as fuel your morning run or morning scream. Let it out during a long commute (I mean when you're alone in your car. NOT ON THE SUBWAY!)
 
 
    That's a compact list and now you've got your marching orders and a cheat sheet. But do know, it's all doable if you plan and begin to build your author platform. Genre writer communities are around so you aren't alone. If you reach out, you're doing exactly what you should be doing: being social, which is the crucial part of S O C I A L  MEDIA. If there is one thing I believe about most writers, it's by our very nature of wanting to share our thoughts and ideas, we're a pretty compassionate group if someone asks us a question and needs help.
And as for me this time up at bat, it was all about Amazon Encore doing their own marketing of Tempted by Trouble. I did nothing. It wasn't my magical writing but their decision to drop the price and run an ad on Kindle screens.

And that's why this ranking isn't a source of pride I can lay claim to since I'm not a PR firm.  A direct opposite when it comes to social media and forming connections and why this post exemplifies a "do as I say, not as I do" approach to the ranking game. Thus far, I stink at the gregarious aspects of social media.  Being an introvert with ADHD, I'm immersed in my next ten thoughts to focus on the present moment. And the irony that the Internet is both "now" as well as forever doesn't escape me; if anything I'm haunted by it.

Lastly, let me drive home this point: those who master this universe, the exponential value of PR together with a well-placed ad can bounce the sale and ranking, using their developed social media tribe by putting out the word via FB, Instagram, Tweets, word of mouth, newsletters, texts. In return, Amazon (or B & N, Kobo, etc) spins that book in response, and it stays aloft in orbit, organically at that point.

Doesn't mean I'll give up or given in. I'm still studying craft and writing when I can. And yeah, forcing myself to be s-o-c-i-a-l minus the cringe. 


What about you?
If you're ready to commit and jump aboard the author crazy train, then c'mon! Buckle up and enjoy the ride.  
Oh yeah, and...

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