Friday, May 16, 2014

Twinsie Talk Book Reviews Presents Make You Mine (The Rock Gods #3) by Ann Lister Blog Tour Stop


Make You Mine

Book 3 in the Rock God Series

by Ann Lister


Cooper Rand is the high-energy drummer for his band Ivory Tower. Everyone is drawn to Cooper; which makes him the go-to party guy for those lucky enough to call him friend. He loves the lifestyle that comes along with being a rock star and feels perfectly suited for the role. He is also a professional when it comes to the hook-up, unwilling to stick around long enough to allow emotions to enter into what he's doing. He's lived his entire life 'in the moment' and it isn't until he meets Jayson that he begins to question the direction of his life and if he's been missing out on something truly special all this time.

Jayson Keller has spent most of his life living on the island of Martha's Vineyard working as a builder. Living on a small island also has Jayson working overtime to keep his sexual orientation secret. He has mastered the art of hiding in the closet, but he doesn't want it to be a forever thing. Jayson always said if the right man came along he'd happily leave the safety of his closet and live openly as a gay man. The problem is, living where he does limits his partner options and finding someone worth coming out of that closet for seems an unlikely prospect.

A party at Alex Metcalf's island estate brings Cooper and Jayson face-to-face. Lightning strikes hot and fast and suddenly their lives take a whole new path. Has Jayson finally met a man worth leaving his self-imposed closet? Have a couple of hours spent alone with Jayson opened Cooper to the idea there is a deeper meaning to life beyond the stage and the value of a committed relationship? But, a bigoted family and the rock star lifestyle could ruin everything and keep both men searching for what was standing right in front of them: a soul mate

Goodreads:

My Review

5 of 5 Cooper & Jayson



Amazon Lulu (epub version)






Ann Lister is a native New Englander currently living on the island of Martha's Vineyard with her husband. She has pulled details from her years living in the New England area and uses many local settings and landmarks in her novels.

After graduating art school and raising two daughters, she established her own video production company. Her nearly two decades working in video production included work within the music industry and won her a coveted Telly Award. It was this 'behind-the-scenes' exposure to the music world that inspired many of her novels.

In 2013 she released Book One of her new rock star series: The Rock Gods. Book One is titled, Fall For Me. This novel is her first full-length gay, erotic romance and it is also a Finalist novel for the 2013 Rainbow Award.

Book Two in the Rock Gods series is titled, Take What You Want. This story is a m/m/f menage and released in early November 2013. Book Three, titled: Make You Mine, is expected to release in Spring of 2014.

When not writing, she enjoys reading, creating stained glass, and traveling.



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Twitter: @AnnListerAuthor

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Thursday, May 15, 2014

Lady Reader's Bookstuff Blog Tours Presents The Paradox of Vertical Flight by Emil Ostrovski Tour Stop




THE PARADOX OF VERTICAL FLIGHT by Emil Ostrovski

Release Date: September 24, 2013 Hardcover, 260 pages Publisher: Greenwillow Books Genre: Contemporary / Realistic Fiction / Tough Issues / Suicide

What happens when you put a suicidal eighteen-year-old philosophy student, his ex-girlfriend, his best friend, and his newborn baby in a truck and send them to Grandma's house? 

 This debut novel by Emil Ostrovski will appeal to fans of John Green, Chris Crutcher, and Jay Asher. On the morning of his eighteenth birthday, philosophy student and high school senior Jack Polovsky is somewhat seriously thinking of suicide when his cell phone rings.

 Jack's ex-girlfriend, Jess, has given birth, and Jack is the father. Jack hasn't spoken with Jess in about nine months—and she wants him to see the baby before he is adopted. The new teenage father kidnaps the baby, names him Socrates, stocks up on baby supplies at Wal-Mart, and hits the road with his best friend, Tommy, and the ex-girlfriend. 

As they head to Grandma's house (eluding the police at every turn), Jack tells baby Socrates about Homer, Troy, Aristotle, the real Socrates, and the Greek myths—because all stories spring from those stories, really. Even this one. Funny, heart-wrenching, and wholly original, this debut novel by Emil Ostrovski explores the nature of family, love, friendship, fate, fatherhood, and myth.








My phone rings, but I don't get up.

In my dream, the teacher hands out frogs, living frogs, and lectures: “Frogs produce smaller air bubbles than humans, who in turn produce smaller air bubbles than llamas. We find this out by drowning the species in question, of course. Please drown your frog and make sure to measure the diameter of its air bubbles, rounding to the nearest significant digit. Tomorrow we’ll measure the bubbles produced by our lab partners, and the day after that, the students that are left will move on to the llamas.” It makes no sense at all, but so it goes with my dreams. Some people dream of epic heroes’ quests, of saving the universe from a great evil, and I get dreams about the differentiation of air bubbles across species.

Around nine I roll myself into a sitting position, finger the gunk out of my eyes, examine it for a moment, and then launch it across the room to where I don’t have to immediately deal with it. My roommate’s snores filter down from the top bunk. 

My cell is on my desk. The blinking red light of a missed call flashes across the room. Damn. I missed Bob. I try calling her back, but she doesn’t answer. She’s always losing her phone, misplacing it; broke it a few times from chucking it, because she couldn’t get the idiotskaya electronica to work.

I call my grandma “Bob” because I’m too lazy to bother with the alternatives; namely, “Babushka,”“Baba,” and “starypur,” the Russian version of old fart. Bob has Alzheimer’s, and it’s my birthday, so her call means today’s one of those days, or maybe just one of those moments, a flash, when she remembers me.

Partly to distract myself from the guilt, but mostly out of habit, I turn on my computer and wait for Windows to load. I don’t capitalize “god” but I always capitalize “Windows.” I spend much of my life in front of a screen, plugged into the matrix, looking through a Window into my virtual life. Still waiting on a black dude with a name that sounds like a drug to show up and teach me kung fu, though.

I log in to Facebook and I’m so depressed I want to laugh. Fifteen Facebook friends have wished me a happy birthday so far. I’ve never really cared about birthdays, honestly—I mean, it’s just another day—but to see all these people, most of whom I don’t know or in a few years won’t remember, wishing me a happy birthday makes me feel like I should care. Like it should be a special day, like it should mean something.

I think I hate Facebook.

I lean back in my chair and stare out the window. When I’m thirty years old, will I still get a bunch of people I don’t know wishing me a happy birthday? Will that number dwindle over the years? Will, year by year, some people who’ve forgotten me remember and some people who’ve remembered me forget? What’s the point of it all, for any of us, if that’s the way it goes—if the way it ends is with me logging into Facebook at ninety years old, bald and fat and wearing a diaper and not remembering how to get to the toilet, which is why I’m wearing a diaper in the first place, and seeing, what? Fifteen people I don’t know wishing me a happy birthday? And each of my fifteen with fifteen of their own, on and on, a miserable network of Happy Birthday Facebook wishes connecting the entire world, the entire human race, until one day we nuke ourselves and it all goes black and there are no more happy birthdays for anyone.

Sometimes I get like this, depressed I mean, but I’m not one of those crazies, you know, a danger to themselves and others, nothing like that. Never even contemplated suicide, though in a few seconds I will be contemplating jumping out a window. It’s hot—eighty, maybe more; my T-shirt’s wet on my body, and it feels more miserable than it has any right to for a May morning in our great moose- infested state of Maine. I wheel over to open the window, slide it all the way up. I have to stand so I can reach the screen, to slide it down into place. Instead I stick my hand out.

What if I jump? What if I jump, now? I don’t want to die, but getting hurt would be kind of nice, you know? Like two years ago, when I got my appendix out. Everyone from class sent Get Well cards and Tommy skipped school to spend a day with me playing video games in the hospital. Yeah, that’s selfish, but remembering your friend because he almost kicked it is just as selfish.

I turn away from the window. The attention would last a couple weeks, max. Then everyone would go back to their own lives and everything would be the same. But unlike when I got my appendix out, I might be crippled for life.

I walk on over to my desk, pull open a drawer, shuffle through video game boxes and CDs and pencils and pens and a worn pink eraser I never use but bring to school every quarter anyway. I grab the bottle of pills, sit back down on my chair, and stare at the bottle. Painkillers. From a few months back, when I got into a fight with a fence over the arbitrary authority by which it goes about the supremely arrogant task of delineating space. The fence won the tiff, but, fractured ankle aside, I like to think I’ll win the war. I set the painkillers on the desk, and check under my bed. That’s where I keep my water, but there isn’t any left, so I stuff the pills in my pocket.

“Hey,” comes my roommate Alan’s I’m-still-three-quarters-sleeping voice.

I spin round. “Hey,” I say, too loud.

He frowns at me, head about three inches off the pillow, and says, “Feel like I wanted to say something to you. But I forget. I’ll remember.”

“That’s all right.” 

“Jack,” he says, suddenly concerned. “It is a Saturday, right?”

“Yeah,” I say. “No worries.”

“Phew,” he says. His head drops back down. Almost every Saturday Alan groggily asks me if it’s really the weekend—like he can’t quite believe it himself. He’s a nice guy, Alan, as nice a roommate as you could hope for, but we don’t really do anything together aside from, well, sleeping together. .It’s just that kind of a relationship.

I have my hand on our doorknob when--voices in the hall. When they’re gone I nudge the door open and head for the bathroom. A guy’s in the shower, singing something about how we’re meant to be together in a voice that he really should keep a firm leash and a choke collar on if he insists on taking it out in public.

I set the bottle of pills on the shelf below the mirror. My reflection has a zit coming up on his forehead. It hurts to touch. He squeezes anyway, and bites at the inside of his lip. It explodes; a bit of yellow-white pus hits him in the eye and slides down, down, like a tear.

How many pills will kill me and how many will almost kill me? That is the question. It’s a fine line, probably. I open the bottle, look inside, and frown. Pull the cotton ball out.

I turn on the faucet. And hold my hands under the warm water. Close my eyes. Breathe. Breathe. I’m about to down my first pill when my cell rings. Once, twice, three times. The guy in the shower stops singing.

My breath catches when I see the number. 





May 12th – Unconventional Librarian – Guest Post

May 12th – Buried In Books – Review

May 12th – The Compulsive Reader – Review

May 13th – The Bookish Confections – Review/Excerpt

May 13th – Books With Bite – Review

May 13th – Bibliophilia, Please – Interview/Guest Post

May 14th – What A Nerd Girl Says – Review/Interview

May 14th – Live To Read - Krystal – Review

May 14th – The Happy Booker – Review/GP

May 14th – LRB Guest Post – Review

May 15th – Kaidans Seduction – Review

May 15th – Escaping One Book At A Time – Review

May 15th – Alice Marvels – Review

May 15th – Scott Reads It! – Review

May 16th – DanaSquare – Review

May 16th – Paranormal Book Club – Guest Post

May 16th – Books Complete Me – Review

May 16th – The-Society.Net – Review/Playlist

May 16th – Book Loving Mom – Review



“I'm twenty-three. Rather than give you a witty, self-deprecating account of the trials and tribulations of my twenty-three year old, suburban, upper-middle class, went-to-a-girl's-liberal-arts-college life, I'll admit that I haven't really done anything much worth reading about. So in lieu of providing you with my biography, I will recommend that you read Desmond Tutu's. Here. Why Desmond Tutu? Well, I've always liked his name.”





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Wednesday, May 14, 2014

Enticing Journey Book Promotions Presents Measure Of Devotion Series By Caethes Faron Blog Tour Stop



Jason Wadsworth is finally headed to university. Leaving behind his father's cattle ranch in favor of the posh, gaslit streets of Perdana, Jason is determined to climb the social ladder and forget his country roots. If only his father had gifted him with a more upscale slave.

Kale's been a country slave his whole life. All he wants is to keep his head down and live as comfortable an existence as possible. Unfortunately, his dramatic master despises him and makes life difficult at every turn.

Humbled by his first breakup, Jason grows to appreciate his ever-faithful slave and soon discovers that Kale is everything he's ever wanted. Now he needs to prove to Kale that his love is genuine.

Kale, meanwhile, tries to convince himself that he simply feels the devotion of a slave to his master, but his actions prove what his mind is unwilling to accept: he's falling in love. When Jason's future happiness is in jeopardy, Kale sets himself on a course to make Jason's dreams come true, even if it means facing up to the fact that, for the first time in his life, he loves someone else more than he loves himself.

Follow Jason and Kale as they rely on the strength of their devotion to each other to weather the storms they unwittingly enter in their quest for peace.

Measure of Devotion is a bittersweet love story that contains sexual content and adult language.






It was beginning to get too cool for comfort, so on the rare days when the weather was nice, Jason would sit in the back garden with Kale. Kale had a strong suspicion that this was a kind gesture toward him. Jason rarely chose to be outdoors. For Kale, it was an especially relaxing time, and he was grateful to Jason for making the effort, even though Jason often used these times for awkward conversation.

“Would you ever run away, Kale?” Where did this boy come up with these questions? They were in their usual position, side by side on their backs, eyes closed, trying to absorb as much heat from the sun as they could.

“No.”

“Are you just saying that because I’m the one asking?”

Kale kept his eyes closed, but he smiled. “It is a dangerous question.”

“No it’s not. I can understand why you’d feel that way, but I’m just curious. It’s hard to imagine what it’s like to be you. If I was in your position, I think I’d try to run away.”

“No, you wouldn’t. You had parents who love you. The first thing they would teach you if you were a slave is that hoping for freedom is the quickest way to get yourself killed. Focus on what you can change, on what you can control—which is precious little—and don’t let yourself worry about the rest.”

“Your mother teach you that?”

“Yeah.”

“What else did she teach you?”

Kale opened his eyes and looked at Jason. All his life he had kept his personal thoughts secret. Why was it so easy to surrender them to Jason? He tried to summon the healthy apprehension that kept him safe, the instinct that told him to keep his mouth shut. It was nowhere to be found. He wanted to share with Jason. “To act more like a gentleman than a slave. She wanted me to be a valet from the start.”

“What did your dad want?”

Kale turned his face back to the sky and closed his eyes. “Never met him.”

“What?”

“Most slaves don’t know who their fathers are. It’s hard enough keeping a mother and child together; no use making it harder on a kid by introducing a father they’ll hardly ever see and will most likely be separated from.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. That’s the point: I can’t feel bad over something I never had.”

“Still, no one should have to go through that. Especially a child.”

Kale could feel the intensity of Jason’s stare. Opening his eyes, he met his gaze. “Thank you. I appreciate your concern, really, but don’t worry about it.” Kale knew Jason did worry about it, and it baffled him. “Believe me when I say I never think of it.”

“What about your mother? And your brother?”

The familiar pinprick hit his heart, and he pushed the feeling away before a similar pricking hit his eyes. Any other time, Kale would have immediately withdrawn, but that was before he saw the sincerity in Jason’s face. This was not idle talk. Jason was reaching out to him, and a part of Kale that he had thought buried with his childhood wanted desperately to cling to what Jason offered.

“I miss them. The worst part is not knowing whether they’re even alive, not knowing what work they put my brother to. But that’s one of the things I can’t control, so I don’t think about them much.”

Jason reached over and grasped Kale’s hand. Before he even realized it, Kale squeezed back. The silence between them was peaceful, but Kale didn’t like the way his personal thoughts lingered in the air. He wanted the conversation to turn back to Jason. “What about you? Do you ever think of your mother?”

“Yes, all the time. The woman was pure love. The way she acted with me, you would have thought everything I said was genius. I always knew I could tell her anything, and she would understand. She’d get as excited as I was about whatever idea or story I told her. I often wonder what she would think of me now.”

“She’d be proud.”

A few moments passed as Jason pondered something. Then he focused back on Kale. “Thanks, I hope so.”

When the chilly air chased them back inside, their hands were still warmly interlocked.

***

A week before Holy Saints’ Day, Kale sat in the kitchen helping Marge. It wasn’t often that Jason went places without him now, but when he did, Kale came to the kitchen. He claimed it was because the kitchen was the warmest spot in the house, but really he felt most comfortable there. It was odd to go back to the slave quarters when he never slept there anymore.

As Kale sliced potatoes, Charlie came whistling into the kitchen. “Well, look who we have here. I’m sorry, sir, but do I know you?”

Kale looked up. “Stop it. I’m here all the time.”

Charlie grabbed a piece of bread and sat next to Kale. “Really? All the time? It’s been over a week since I’ve seen you. Of course, some of us keep busy doing actual work.”

“Hey, I work too.”

Charlie snorted. “Yeah, I wish my master considered fucking me enough work on my part for the day.”

“I’m cutting potatoes, aren’t I?”

“That’s different. You don’t have to, and you’re only doing it so Marge will give you a treat. Which reminds me: you are looking a little pudgy. I hear your master’s feeding you like a free man.”

“Pay him no mind, Kale. I think someone’s just jealous.” Marge shot Charlie a stern look.

“Jealous? Not on my life, Marge. Everyone knows I love everything you fix.”

Kale knew Charlie was joking, but he had noticed lately that he wasn’t as firm as he once had been. A little padding had appeared on his abdomen, but he wasn’t pudgy, was he? “That’s what happens when you’re a good slave, Charlie, you get rewarded.”

“A good slave? You? No, this is what happens when your master falls in love with you.”

Kale stopped cold and dropped his knife. He looked up at Charlie and saw his usual smile. Did the other slaves think the same way Charlie did? “He’s not in love with me.”

“All right.”

“He’s not. You don’t think he is, do you, Marge?”

“I’m staying out of this one. It’s none of my business.”

Charlie chuckled. “Are you blind? Or just stupid? He’s got it for you worse than he did for Eric.”

“No, he doesn’t. He just feels guilty for what he did while they were dating, and he’s overcompensating. I’m going to enjoy it while it lasts.”

Charlie sobered. “You don’t really believe that, do you? Kale, that boy is completely in love with you. He’d probably buy you a pony if you asked for one.”

“Charlie, you really don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I don’t? I guess you’re right. I would have thought it would have been easy for you to spot the signs since you’re in love with him, too.”

All of a sudden, it was hard for Kale to breathe. How had Charlie gotten that idea? More importantly, if Charlie thought that, then did the others too? “I’m not in love with him.”

“Really? So why haven’t you had sex with anyone else since you started sleeping with him?”

“Because I’m sleeping with him, Charlie. When the hell am I supposed to have sex with someone else?”

“I can think of dozens of times we’ve had sex in the middle of the day. Do you want to have a go now?”

Kale didn’t have to think about it; the immediate answer was no.

“Come on, you can top. I doubt he’s been letting you.” There was a glint of mischief in Charlie’s eyes.

It was true. Kale had never topped with Jason. But that didn’t change his answer. “No thanks, Charlie.”

“Why?”

“Because. He fancies we’re lovers. If I were to sleep with someone else, he would see it as cheating. I’m not about to throw away this cushy life just to plow into your scrawny ass.”

“My scrawny ass was fine before you started sleeping with him. But you’re right. It doesn’t sound like you two are in love, not at all.” Charlie gave Kale an incredulous look that matched his sarcastic tone.

Kale decided not to rise to the bait, and they lapsed into silence as Charlie finished eating his bread, and Kale continued to cut potatoes. The steady mindless work was easy to get lost in, and Kale could let his mind go blank.

“So how do you think things are going to go when he takes you back home?”

Kale shook his head. It took him a minute to comprehend the question. “What are you talking about?”

“Holy Saints’ Day? Everyone’s going home. Didn’t you know?”

No, actually, he didn’t. “I guess I never thought about it.”

“They do celebrate Holy Saints’ Day where you’re from, right? You’re not that cut off from civilization.”

“Yes, we celebrate Holy Saints’ Day, Charlie. My master just hasn’t mentioned it at all. I suppose he’s planning to wake up the day he wants to leave, and I’m supposed to have magically packed all of his trunks.”

“That sounds about right. He’ll probably want to leave the day after classes get out.”

“Thanks for the heads-up.”

“Sure.” Charlie rose from the table. “I’ve got to go. But listen, watch yourself back home. I know you say this thing between you and your master is nothing more than the usual, but you could have fooled me. You’d better hope his father’s more dense.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Kale could see the concern on Charlie’s face, and his words did nothing to alleviate it.

After Charlie left, Kale sat at the table staring at nothing. Had he gotten too comfortable? Mr. Wadsworth was a fair slave master, but he wouldn’t tolerate any kind of impropriety between Kale and his son. There was no reason to worry, though. There would only be cause to worry if Kale had developed feelings for Jason, and despite what Charlie said, that simply was not the case. Everything should be fine. Really. It had to be.





Caethes Faron is a bisexual, genre-queer writer. Her books are equal opportunity, featuring gay, straight, and bisexual characters. Her bittersweet tales of love and loyalty are just as likely to leave readers in tears as smiles, and her love scenes don't fade to black. She enjoys empowering the powerless and exploring the nature of human relationships, especially in differing power dynamics. All of her books feature adults in adult situations. Foul language, diverse sexual situations, aspects of BDSM, and other things that are sure to offend some people make regular appearances in her novels.

Caethes's writing is influenced by her observations of this imperfect world and the flawed characters who inhabit it. She's lived in seven states and is always looking for the next place to call home with her husband and two dogs. She currently resides in Florida.
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Monday, May 12, 2014

One More Chapter Presents The Madam (VIP #2) by M. Robinson Blog Tour Stop




Some people need love…

I need sex, money, control, and power.

Anyone could have those four things, but only one could have VIP. Becoming Madam was never a choice for me, it was a mandated order from the most powerful woman I knew- my mother. I was born to fill her shoes, never to make mistakes, or to show weakness.


You are the product of your environment. They say the apple doesn't fall far from the tree; you learn from what you see, not from what you're told. Nature vs. Nurture. I learned from it all; what I saw, what I didn't see, what I was told, and from reading between the lines.

I was raised with the belief that the world spun ONLY because of me. I held power as far back as I can remember, saw things no one ever talks about, and witnessed illegal acts of sex, drugs, and money by the time I was eighteen.

You saw a glimpse of me in VIP, now see it from the beginning. Enter my world where anything goes; no judgments, no remorse, no guilt. You play by my rules, or you don’t play at all. There are no limits to what I can do, or to what I can show you…I will ensure my legacy my any means necessary.


My name is Lilith Veronica Stone, and I am The Madam.

Warning: Book contains adult situations.

Dark content/sex/drugs/language. Mature readers only.

** Available May 19th 2014! ** 






5 of 5 Amaze Balls

Holy effing hell!!!!!!!! What the hell did I just read...... I mean I can't wrap my mind around it. I thought I loved VIP but shiz I loved loved The Madam. I mean I after reading VIP I was blown away by the story. M. Robinson knows how to write a story that leaves you breathless and questioning your sanity because you're like what the eff did I just read?

The Madam brought us a new level of insanity that is the only way to describe The Madam. She knows what she wants and goes after it. She will not show any fear or any weaknesses to anyone and she rules with an iron fist. Call her what you want she is a crazy Biatch, she is called a whore by some but at the end of the day she is running the show and no one can change that.

In The Madam you get much more of her background and start to see what she went through and why she is the way she is. Why she does not do love and she lives the way she lives and why she runs the business the way she does.

To say this book was great is such an understatement because because holy SHIZNIT this book was effing AMAZING! Thanks M. Robinson I need more! 

**Before you read The Madam, be sure and read book 1: VIP**


32 year old Sebastian Vanwell, was a very successful yacht broker, who always loved the design and architecture of a luxurious boat. His only addiction was being on the water. He loved it, he thrived on it, and he needed it in his life. After a very stable, loving childhood with only a few bumps, Sebastian married the love of his life. The one person that he knew would always be there. Julia was his rock, and he loved her more than life itself. Sebastian kept his addiction to the water under control, wanting to keep his time with his wife and son his number one obsession, that was until he saw her. This new addiction haunted him, the one compulsion that he couldn't control no matter how hard he tried.

Ysabelle Telle hit him hard, knocking the wind from his lungs. Coming from worlds apart, beautiful, dark complexion Ysabelle Telle didn't have the rich, protected background that Sebastian Vanwell had. Ysabelle lived a life of hell, in poverty, growing up with a drug addict mother that never cared, and horrific living conditions. Ysabelle lived for one person and one person only; herself. She was pure perfection, her beauty along with a flawless body had men lined up, driveling over her ensuring her success as a VIP.

There are too many words that describe the effects when two diverse worlds like theirs collide. They both have too much to lose to get caught in the forceful pull, which could destroy them both.

Warning sex/drugs/language. Mature readers only





M. Robinson loves to read. She favors anything that has angst, romance, triangles, cheating, love, and of course sex! She has been reading since the Babysitters Club and R.L. Stein. 

She was born in New Jersey but was raised in Tampa Fl. She is currently pursuing her Ph.D in psychology, with two years left. 

She is married to an amazing man who she loves to pieces. They have two German Shepherd mixes and a Tabby cat. 


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