Saturday, October 18, 2014

ENJOY A SENSUOUS NIGHT IN IRELAND WITH MACK’S WITNESS

ORDER NOW!!!!! 

Please help me share the news

MACK'S WITNESS
By Myla Jackson

Scroll down to read excerpt



Blurb

Tired of eating sand and dodging bullets, Marine Captain Mack Magnus is ready to relax and enjoy his brother’s Dublin wedding. If that involves a few pints in a quaint Irish pub and getting laid by a pretty Irish lass, all the better.

Instead he winds up getting ordered around by the cousin of the bride. Fed up with her mouthy attitude, he kisses her to shut her up. Now he has a new mission: get into the sexy redhead’s panties.

Busy international model Deirdre Darcy knows the six-foot-four Marine’s type: hit-and-run sex and off to the next port. Fall into bed with an arrogant bastard like Mack? No thanks. When she stumbles upon a couple of Irish gypsies leaving a murder scene, she must go into hiding or become their next victim.

His protective instincts kicking into high gear, Mack whisks Deirdre away to a small town where it’s easier to keep her safe. Except there’s no escape from their growing attraction—or from the one thing neither of them thought they wanted. Love.

Warning: Battle-hardened, ready-to-cut-loose Marine teams up with a stunning Irish lass who thinks she can handle him. You’ll need the luck of the Irish to hang onto your seat for this sexy, suspenseful race across the Emerald Isle.


Lead in: Attracted to each other at their first meeting and after dancing at the bachelor party, Mack and Deirdre are ready to give in to their desires.

Mack locked gazes with Deirdre, refusing to let his eyes feast on her luscious curves.

 “I thought you didn't want the complications of a quick fling.”

“I changed my mind.”

He snapped his fingers. “Like that?” Mack shook his head, cursing himself for stalling when she was offering him her body. But the kisses they’d shared had meant more to him than he cared to admit. 

“If I take you to bed, will you change your mind again?”

“Not tonight,” she said.

“After tonight?”

She shook her head. “I’m not here for a relationship. You and I could never work out as a couple. Not in our two careers. I make no guarantees.”

“Good. Because I can give no guarantees.”

“Then we’re good?” She rubbed her naked arms. “Because I’m feeling fairly under dressed here.”

“Come here,” he commanded.

She complied, sliding into his arms. “Are you not going to get naked as well?” Deirdre glanced up at him, raising her brows.

The sensual invitation in her tone washed over him, making his pulse quicken and his groin tighten. “I was enjoying how soft your skin is and how sexy you look in that outfit.”

“Why ’tis nothing but a bit of silk and heels.”

“Exactly.” His hands slid across her naked back and cupped her bottom, lifting her until her legs wrapped around his waist. Then he turned and pressed her against the wall. He bent to nibble at her earlobe and to brush his lips across the pulse pounding at the base of her throat.

 “Promise me one thing.”

“Saints preserve us. What?” she gasped.

“No regrets.”

“The only regret I have is that you are still wearing your clothes.” She caught his face between her palms. “Undress already.”


Copyright © 2014 Myla Jackson
All rights reserved — a Samhain Publishing, Ltd. Publication

ORDER NOW!!!!! 




For more information:
To learn more about Myla Jackson visit her website at http://www.mylajackson.comOr join her newsletter to enter in the fun with other readers:MylaJackson_Newsletter@yahoogroups.com


Thursday, October 16, 2014

SNEAK PEEK INSIDE THE WORLD OF MACK'S WITNESS!!!!

ORDER NOW!!!!! 

Please help me share the news

MACK'S WITNESS
By Myla Jackson

Scroll down to read excerpt




Blurb

Tired of eating sand and dodging bullets, Marine Captain Mack Magnus is ready to relax and enjoy his brother’s Dublin wedding. If that involves a few pints in a quaint Irish pub and getting laid by a pretty Irish lass, all the better.
Instead he winds up getting ordered around by the cousin of the bride. Fed up with her mouthy attitude, he kisses her to shut her up. Now he has a new mission: get into the sexy redhead’s panties.

Busy international model Deirdre Darcy knows the six-foot-four Marine’s type: hit-and-run sex and off to the next port. Fall into bed with an arrogant bastard like Mack? No thanks. When she stumbles upon a couple of Irish gypsies leaving a murder scene, she must go into hiding or become their next victim.

His protective instincts kicking into high gear, Mack whisks Deirdre away to a small town where it’s easier to keep her safe. Except there’s no escape from their growing attraction—or from the one thing neither of them thought they wanted. Love.

Warning: Battle-hardened, ready-to-cut-loose Marine teams up with a stunning Irish lass who thinks she can handle him. You’ll need the luck of the Irish to hang onto your seat for this sexy, suspenseful race across the Emerald Isle.


Excerpt

Lead in: Mack and Deirdre at his brother's combined bachelor/bachelorette party.

“You throw a good party,” he said, his words rumbling in his chest. “My brothers have never been to Ireland so this is a treat.”

Deirdre tipped her chin up. “Surely your military travels have taken you to foreign countries?”

“Yes, but not where we were truly welcome. It’s nice for a change not to have to look where you step or watch behind you for your enemy.”

“I can’t imagine what it is like to be in a war zone.”

“Exhilarating and scary at the same time.” He touched a finger beneath her chin. “I’m glad you ladies came out. I was considering going back to my room.”

“And miss all this?” She smiled up at him. “It would be a shame to disappoint your brother on the eve of his weddin’.”

“He doesn't see anyone else but his bride-to-be.”

Deirdre’s glance shifted to Wyatt and Fiona, standing in the middle of the floor, barely moving to the beat of the music. “They make a lovely couple.”

“They’ve only known each other for three months. Is that long enough to know whether you’re really in love?”

“Some say you know in an instant. Others say their love grew over time.” Deirdre envied Wyatt and Fiona. She had always wondered what it would be like to be in love with a man. Her gaze rose to meet Mack’s. “Do you believe in love at first sight?”

Mack stared down at her for a long moment.

The fire in his eyes made her blood rush through her veins and her core tighten.
“I don’t know about love at first sight. You captured my attention from the moment you first stepped through the door of the terminal.”

“I did?”

“Yes. But then I pegged you as an ice queen, dressed in white, hiding behind a scarf and sunglasses, your body ramrod straight.”

Deirdre stiffened.

Mack laughed. “Just like that.” When she tried to step out of his arms, he tightened them around her. “Then I kissed you and I realized how deceiving looks can be. Beneath the outer shell was a fiery, passionate women.” His words ended in a whisper, his head lowering, his mouth sweeping down to claim hers.

As though caught in a time warp, Deirdre couldn’t move. Nor did she want to. Since he’d kissed her in the airport, she’d thought of little else. She lifted her face to his and met him, her mouth opening to accept his tongue, her own coming out to sweep across his. It was as if the world stopped turning and time stood still. Even the music ceased to beat against her ears.


Copyright © 2014 Myla Jackson
All rights reserved — a Samhain Publishing, Ltd. Publication

ORDER NOW!!!!! 
  

 For more information:

To learn more about Myla Jackson visit her website at http://www.mylajackson.com
Or join her newsletter to enter in the fun with other readers:MylaJackson_Newsletter@yahoogroups.com


Tuesday, October 14, 2014

MACK'S WITNESS RELEASE DAY

Please help me share the news

Today is release day for 
MACK'S WITNESS
By Myla Jackson

Scroll down to read excerpt



Blurb

Tired of eating sand and dodging bullets, Marine Captain Mack Magnus is ready to relax and enjoy his brother’s Dublin wedding. If that involves a few pints in a quaint Irish pub and getting laid by a pretty Irish lass, all the better.

Instead he winds up getting ordered around by the cousin of the bride. Fed up with her mouthy attitude, he kisses her to shut her up. Now he has a new mission: get into the sexy redhead’s panties.

Busy international model Deirdre Darcy knows the six-foot-four Marine’s type: hit-and-run sex and off to the next port. Fall into bed with an arrogant bastard like Mack? No thanks. When she stumbles upon a couple of Irish gypsies leaving a murder scene, she must go into hiding or become their next victim.

His protective instincts kicking into high gear, Mack whisks Deirdre away to a small town where it’s easier to keep her safe. Except there’s no escape from their growing attraction—or from the one thing neither of them thought they wanted. Love.

Warning: Battle-hardened, ready-to-cut-loose Marine teams up with a stunning Irish lass who thinks she can handle him. You’ll need the luck of the Irish to hang onto your seat for this sexy, suspenseful race across the Emerald Isle.


Excerpt


Lead in: Mack is waiting at the airport for his ride to show, Fiona's cousin.

A woman stepped into the terminal wearing a white, calf-length trench coat, sunglasses and a scarf over her hair. The little bit of legs Mack could see below the coat were trim, smooth, well-defined and gorgeous. He couldn’t tell what color hair was beneath the scarf, nor the color of her eyes beneath the sunglasses. The manner in which she carried herself was enough to make Mack look twice. She could be a runway model the way she strode across the floor, one foot in front of the other, the trench coat in no way disguising her tiny
waist and slim hips.

A woman like that had to be high-maintenance and completely full of herself, and most likely boring in bed. Basically, an ice princess. Though she was wonderful eye-candy, Mack was not the least interested.

He glanced back at the entrance, wondering when his lift would show up, starting to think he might have to find his own way there.

“Excuse me, sir,” a lilting Irish voice said. “What is yer name?”

Mack’s insides tightened, and he turned to face the woman with the voice that tugged at something primal. The ice princess stood in front of him, her full, lush red lips pressed into a thin line.

Then she snapped her fingers in his face. “Are you addled?”

“Addled?”

“Do you not speak English?” She stood so close Mack could see several wisps of deep auburn hair sneaking out from beneath the scarf.

He wanted to reach out and yank the scarf from her head and let the dark red hair free.

“Yes, I speak English.”

“American, eh?” The woman drew herself up on her heels almost but not quite eye to-eye with him. “Perhaps you could help me. I’m looking for an American named Mack Magnus.”

So she was his ride…er, lift. A thrill of annoyance and desire speared through him. Her attitude was beginning to get under his skin along with the desire to pull her into his arms and kiss the lush red lips until he smudged her lipstick.

“Silly name, if you ask me.” The ice princess glanced around and back to him, her head dipping as if she was looking him over from head to toe. “You sort of fit the description I was given, but I assumed he’d be a bit more…”

“Handsome?” Mack fought the smile pulling at his lips.

Her brows lifted above the rims of her sunglasses. “The word I was looking for was intelligent.”

  
Copyright © 2014 Myla Jackson
All rights reserved — a Samhain Publishing, Ltd. Publication


ORDER NOW!!!!! 




For more information:

To learn more about Myla Jackson visit her website at http://www.mylajackson.com
Or join her newsletter to enter in the fun with other readers:MylaJackson_Newsletter@yahoogroups.com







Tuesday, July 08, 2014

WYATT'S WAR RELEASE DAY! YAY!

Please help me share the news. 

Today is release day for WYATT'S WAR, the first book in my military romance series HEARTS & HEROES. Hot military hero, romantic suspense, spitfire heroine in San Antonio,TX.


WYATT'S WAR
by Myla Jackson
July 8, 2014 Release
Order Now:
Scroll down to read Excerpt 


Hearts & Heroes, Book 1
After a particularly difficult operation in Somalia, Master Sergeant Wyatt Magnus is stuck with “light” duty providing anti-terrorist security for delegates at the International Trade Convention in San Antonio.

As he settles in for what he expects will be an easy assignment, he discovers he’s got a whole new kind of battle on his hands with the convention’s director, a tightly packaged, five-foot-nothing, sexy piece of work with an iron fist.

Under pressure to bring foreign dignitaries to the River Walk without a hitch, Fiona Allen doesn’t have time to babysit a Special Forces grunt with a superiority complex. Even if just looking at him makes her mouth water.

When a hotel snafu lands them in the same room, at first she’s steaming mad. Then burning up in smoking-hot desire. But even as she tells herself he’s a one-time ride, trouble is brewing behind the scenes. The kind of trouble with a vendetta—and a detonator.

Warning: Contains one hot hero with a gift for strategic placement of his hands, one fiery redhead who’d like to make a career out of exploring every rippling muscle, and one hotel room that’s about to see some serious action. Fire extinguisher recommended.

For more information:
To learn more about Myla Jackson visit her website at http://www.mylajackson.comOr join her newsletter to enter in the fun with other readers:MylaJackson_Newsletter@yahoogroups.com



Excerpt
Chapter One

Sergeant Major Wyatt Magnus pushed past the pain in his knee, forcing himself to finish a three-mile run in the sticky heat of south Texas. Thankfully his ribs had healed and his broken fingers had mended enough he could pull the trigger again. He didn’t anticipate needing to use the nine-millimeter Beretta tucked beneath his fluorescent vest. San Antonio wasn’t what he’d call a hot zone. Not like Somalia, his last real assignment.

It wouldn’t be long before his commander saw he was fit for combat duty, not playing the role of a babysitter for fat tourists, politicians and businessmen visiting the Alamo and stuffing themselves on Tex-Mex food while pretending to attend an International Trade Convention.

The scents of fajitas and salsa filled the air, accompanied by the happy cadence of a mariachi band. Twinkle lights lit the trees along the downtown River Walk as he completed his run around the San Antonio Convention Center and started back to his hotel. Neither the food, nor the music lightened his spirits.

Since being medevaced out of Somalia to San Antonio Medical Center, the combined armed forces’ medical facility, he’d been chomping at the bit to get back to where the action was. But for some damn reason, his commander and the psych evaluator thought he needed to cool his heels a little longer and get his head on straight before he went back into the more volatile situations.

So what? He’d been captured and tortured by Somali militants. If he hadn’t been so trusting of the men he’d been sent to train in combat techniques, he might have picked up on the signs. Staff Sergeant Dane might not be dead and Wyatt wouldn’t have spent three of the worst weeks of his life held captive. He’d been tortured: nine fingers, four ribs and one kneecap broken and had been beaten to within an inch of his life. All his training, his experience in the field, the culture briefings and in-country observations hadn’t prepared him for complete betrayal by the very people he had been sent there to help.

He understood why the Somali armed forces had turned him over to the residual al-Shabab militants that were attempting a comeback after being ousted from the capital, Mogadishu. He might have done the same if his family had been kidnapped and threatened with torture and beheading if he didn’t hand over the foreigners.

No, he’d have found a better way to deal with the terrorists. A way that involved very painful deaths. His breathing grew shallower and the beginning of a panic attack snuck up on him like a freight train.

Focus. The psych doc had given him methods to cope with the onset of anxiety that made him feel like he was having a heart attack. He had to focus to get his mind out of Somalia and torture and back to San Antonio and the River Walk.
Ahead he spied the pert twitch of a female butt encased in hot pink running shorts and a neon green tank top. Her ass was as far from the dry terrain of Somalia as a guy could get. Wyatt focused on her and her tight buttocks, picking up the pace to catch up. She was a pretty young woman with an MP3 device strapped to her arm with wires leading to the earbuds in her ears. Her dark red hair pulled back in a loose ponytail bounced with every step. Running in the zone, she seemed to ignore everything around but the path in front of her.

Once he caught up, Wyatt slowed to her pace, falling in behind. His heart rate slowed, returning to normal, his breathing regular and steady. Panic attack averted, he felt more normal, in control and aware of the time. As much as he liked following the pretty woman with the pink ass and the dark red, bobbing ponytail, he needed to get back and shower before he met the coordinator of the International Trade Convention.

Wyatt lengthened his stride and passed the woman, thankful that simply by jogging ahead of him, she’d brought him back to the present and out of a near clash with the crippling anxiety he refused to let get the better of him.
As he put distance between him and the woman in pink, he passed the shadow of a building. A movement out of the corner of his eye made him spin around. He jogged in a circle, his pulse ratcheting up, his body ready, instincts on high alert. The scuffle of feet made him circle again and stop. He crouched in a fighting stance and faced the threat, the memory of his abduction exploding in his mind, slamming him back to Somalia, back to the dry terrain of Africa and the twenty rebels who’d jumped him and Dane when they’d been leading a training exercise in the bush.

Instead of Somali militants garbed in camouflage and turbans, a small child darted out of his parents’ reach and ran past Wyatt, headed toward the edge of the river.

His mother screamed, “Johnnie, stop!”

By the time Wyatt grasped that the child wasn’t an al-Shabab fighter, the kid had nearly reached the edge.

Tuesday, March 25, 2014

BOOTS AND TWISTERS is Available now!



See the prize package and dates below
 

Ugly Stick Saloon:
Boots & Twisters

Samhain Publishing
Available now!

Welcome back to the Ugly Stick Saloon!

Blurb:

Two ranchers are about to get Lucky—in more ways than one. 

Lucky Albright’s unlucky streak is so long and wide that she’s been run out of one town and it looks like it may happen again.

When she finds herself out of money and out of gas in Temptation, Texas, a part-time job from the kind owner of the Ugly Stick Saloon gives her a glimmer of hope that this time things will be different.

Trent Jameson and Isaac Moore have always believed you make your own luck, but a black cloud of disaster seems to hover over their new hand. Under a tumbling stack of hay, Isaac discovers what Lucky’s hiding beneath baggy clothes and a tough exterior. Enough sexy curves to satisfy both men’s appetites.

But it isn’t long before Lucky’s history starts wreaking havoc all over town. It’ll take a force of nature to help the ranchers convince the law, the Garden Club—even Lucky herself—that now is no time to hit the road.

Warning: Hot cowboys meet hot cowgirl, and there’s a whole lotta shakin’ goin’ on in Temptation. Get your twist-and-shout on at the Ugly Stick Saloon!
 
Night Owl Review a TOP PICK!:

"Humor is everywhere in this erotic romance as it seems no matter what Lucky does something unexpected happens. But, this story is so much more than just a humorous romance. Lucky isn’t your typical female lead...I think this is one of the best stories in this series and that is saying a lot!"

Excerpt:
 
Copyright © 2014 Myla Jackson
All rights reserved — a Samhain Publishing, Ltd. publication

Trent went to work stacking the hay on another wall, one bale at a time. Halfway through the stack, his muscles burned and he’d worked up a good sweat. He was feeling better and had almost forgotten the woman at the saloon.

With several tall columns of bales leaning against one wall, Trent was about to start a stack in front of them when a noise made him turn around.

A slim figure in jeans and a chambray shirt entered Thunder’s horse stall.

Thunder hadn’t been ridden since Dusty the ranch foreman had been tossed and ended up in the hospital.

Trent started to say something to the new ranch hand about the horse and his temperament. Before he could, the hand emerged, leading a placid Thunder out by his lead rope. If the horse had an attitude, it wasn’t on display that morning.

The cowboy had his head dipped, his cowboy hat pulled low. Between the dim lighting in the barn and the shadows from the rim of his hat, Trent couldn’t see the cowboy’s face. Covered in sweat and hay, Trent didn’t feel much like introducing himself yet. But he watched as the young man led the horse out of the barn. A few minutes later, he returned and entered the stall with the wheelbarrow, and soon had a pile of soiled straw loaded into it.

Trent resumed his work on the hay, keeping a watch on the new guy from the corner of his eye.
One stall after the other the young cowboy worked. When he completed the last stall and was pushing the last wheelbarrow load of soiled straw toward the door, Trent decided it was time to inspect the job and introduce himself.

“Wait up, there.” Trent tossed the bale he’d been carrying, dusted the straw off his gloves and crossed to the ranch hand. He glanced past the man’s shoulder into the cleaned stall and noted it was cleaner than he or Isaac usually got it. “Name’s Trent Jameson.” He held out his hand. “Nice work you’ve been doin’ there.”

For a moment the cowboy froze. Then gripped Trent’s hand with his own gloved one. “Thanks.” The cowboy refused to look up, keeping his chin tucked in, his head lowered.
Trent couldn’t look the man in the eye. He didn’t trust a man who wouldn’t look him directly in the eye. “You got a name?”

“Lucky.”

“Lucky.” Trent digested that. “Nickname?”

The ranch hand shook his head and tipped his hat lower over his head. “I better go dump this.” As he hurried around Trent, the wheel ran over Trent’s toe.

“Ow!” Trent yanked his foot back and teetered on one leg.

“Oh my gosh!” The cowboy’s hands flew in the air and the wheelbarrow dumped over, the contents rushing out, knocking Trent backward. He slammed into the freshly stacked hay bales and they swayed.

Trent glanced up, his breath hitching.

Crap.

“Oh no.” The young cowboy launched himself at the hay, tripped over the pile of dung and straw and, instead of catching the bales before they toppled, sprawled out on top of Trent.

The bales tipped and fell, one after the other, landing on or near them.

Several grunts sounded from the cowboy who took the bulk of the pummeling.

His hat flew off and long sandy-blonde hair tangled with the loose hay flying around the interior of the barn.

Trent blinked the hay and dust out of his eyes and stared up into pretty gray eyes, the color of storm clouds. “You!”

The woman he’d been dreaming about kissing planted her hands against his chest and tried to push herself off him.

“Yes, me.”

He opened his mouth to admit he thought he’d never see her again. Thinking better of it, he demanded, “What the hell are you doing here?”

“Working.” Jerking her leg out from under a heavy bale, she managed to roll off him and onto the ground. “What does it look like?” As agile as a cat, she shot to her feet.

“I can see that. But why?”

“Isaac hired me as the new ranch hand.”

“What?” Trent stood and stared at her.

“Is it so hard to believe a woman can be as effective and efficient at ranch work as a man?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“No, you didn’t have to.” She stood, brushing the hay from her jeans but missing the straws stuck in her hair. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to get to work cleaning this up.”

“I didn’t say I agreed with Isaac’s decision to hire you.”

She planted her hands on her hips. “You gonna fire me?”

He glared at her. “I don’t know.”

“Well, until you say otherwise, I have work to do.”

Trent climbed over the bales to stand in front of her. “Like I said last night. You’re trouble.”

Something clouded her already stormy eyes. “Maybe, but I work hard and I know my way around a ranch.”

She grabbed a bale and threw it up onto the stack.

“I gathered that.” And she was beautiful with fire in her eyes and hay in her hair. Trent worked alongside her until they had all the hay stacked in neat rows. When they were done, he brushed straw off his body and grinned. She’d worked hefting as many bales as he had. So, she could lift bales.

Lucky flicked hay off her shoulders. “If we’re done here, there’s a fence on the northeast corner of the property I intend to fix.”

“You can’t do that.”

“Why not?” she asked.

“Because it’s a two-man—person—job.”

“I’ve strung fence with and without help. I can handle it.”

“Maybe so, but we use the buddy rule around here. Unless you’re working around the house or barn, you always take a buddy with you. That way if one or the other is hurt, you have someone there to help.”

She looked at him through slitted eyes. “You’re making that up.”

He held up two fingers. “Scout’s honor.”

Her eyes narrowed even more. “When were you ever a Scout?”

His lips twisted. “Okay, so I’ve never been a Scout. But we do use the buddy system. I’ll go with you.”

Her full, soft lips tightened. “How do you usually get there?”

“I take the four-wheeler. You can ride on the back.”

“Is that how you and your partner…er, brother ride out?”

“We usually take a couple of four-wheelers, but one of them is in the shop for repair.”

She hesitated then nodded. “Okay. Let’s go.”

Trent gathered the come-along, a roll of barbed wire, pliers, a hammer and a couple of metal fence posts and the heavy pounder used to drive them in.

Lucky took half of the supplies and carried them out into the open, then went back for the other half while Trent pulled the four-wheeler out of one of the storage areas in the barn.

Loading what she could in the box on the back, she settled the fence posts over the box and Trent strapped them down along with the pole pounder.

“I’ll get my hat and be ready to go.” Lucky disappeared into the barn.

Isaac joined Trent, carrying two water bottles. He settled them in the box with the tools. “I take it you’ve met our new ranch hand.”

Trent gave Isaac a withering look. “Yeah. You could have warned me.”

“She has the experience and know-how. And from the looks of it, the stamina.” Isaac’s lips twitched.

“Don’t go there.”



Stop by to enter the contest to win this prize!

Myla Jackson's BOOTS AND TWISTERS Book Blast Schedule
3/24 - Bookin' It Reviews  http://bookinitreviews.com
3/24 - Literal Hotties Naughty Book Reviews http://literalhottiesnaughtybookreviews.blogspot.com/
3/24 - Myla Jackson Blog http://www.mylajack.blogspot.com/
3/26 - In The Pages of a Good Book  http://wp.me/p3sIcU-12d
3/27 - Elle James Blog http://ellejames.blogspot.com/
3/28 - Book Monster Reviews http://bookmonsterreviews.com
3/29 - Dirty Girl Romance http://dirtygirlromance.blogspot.com
3/29 - Deal Sharing Aunt  http://dealsharingaunt.blogspot.com
3/31 - For the Love of Bookends               http://loveofbookends.blogspot.com/
4/02 - Books And Their Seven Deadly Sins http://booksandtheirsevendeadlysins.blogspot.co.uk/
4/03 - Inner Goddess http://www.InnerGoddessForum.com
4/03 - Romancing the Book http://romancing-the-book.com
4/05 - Urban Girl Reader http://urbangirlreader.com
4/05 - The Lusty Literate http://thelustyliterate.com/
4/05 - We Love Kink http://welovekink.com
4/05 - Kristina's Books & More   http://kristinasbooksandmore.blogspot.com/
4/06 - Coffee Talk Writers http://coffeetalkwriters.com/blog
4/06 - Words of Wisdom from The Scarf Princess http://wowfromthescarfprincess.blogspot.com
4/06 - For Whom The Books Toll http://forwhomthebookstoll.blogspot.com
4/06 - The Snarkology    http://melissasnark.blogspot.com
4/06 - Toot's Book Reviews http://tootsbookreviews.blogspot.com