Posts Tagged ‘Purple Sword Publications’

Sunday Snippet

Draven’s Crossing: Tempestuous Crossings


Welcome to Draven?s Crossing, where fantasies and nightmares walk among us?

Vampire Mayor Draven desires mortal Rose. Her rebuffs excite him. When she finally gives in to his advances, their coming together is explosive, and their passion is more than he could?ve anticipated.

But a serial killer divides his attention. Can he keep his town safe from this mysterious menace and convince Rose that they belong together despite her reservations?

As a new resident of Draven’s Crossing, all Rose wants to do is her job. Draven could be a distraction she can’t afford, but she can’t ignore him or her arousal.


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Desire slid a sharp finger down her spine, causing her to thrust out her chest. The ache between her legs intensified as the distance between her and Draven closed.


The door slid open, and she found Draven standing there waiting for her. Dark hunger burned in his eyes. All she could do was whimper before he grabbed her arm and pulled her into an embrace. Stumbling off of the elevator, she went willingly and gave herself to his scent and heat once again. Something inside of her clicked, and she relaxed against him.

Draven buried his head in the crook of her neck and sighed. Moist breath fanned her skin. Goosebumps rose as her stomach dropped.

“I’ve missed you. Been thinking about you, waiting for this moment.” He sounded so tired, which worried her.

“What’s wrong?” Moving her body back a bit, she slipped the files under her arm and slid a free hand into his hair. Combing her fingers through his silken tresses, she smiled when he sighed at the touch. His hand pressed in the small of her back, urging her to move closer. No protests; she went with the guidance. A small moan began in her chest and moved up her throat when she felt the press of his erection against her stomach. He rocked against her and groaned aloud.

“It’s been a long day. Need to get you into the office before I drop to my knees and eat you out here in the hallway.” His hand slid over one cheek of her ass. As he squeezed, he drew another groan from her. Heat flooded her sex and spread outward.

“Draven,” she started.

He scraped his fangs down her neck. That one small touch burned her skin and sent tendrils of fire tingled at the base of her back.

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OUT NOW! Draven’s Crossing: Poisonous Desires

OUT NOW from Purple Sword Publications!


 It’s time for the Werewolf Summit and this year it’s taking place in Draven’s Crossing. It’s a huge headache for Vampire Mayor Draven, and Chief of Police Torger. With the issues they’re having with the Council and the fallout of the serial killings both men want things to go smoothly so Torger asks his brother, Urban, to make sure the meetings go well. But this is Draven’s Crossing; what can go wrong will. Bodies start to show up and a drug epidemic hits in the feline shifter community. Two things Urban doesn’t need. When his sometimes lover Nadia is thrown into the mix, things go from bad to worse. Not only is he trying to hide his feelings for the fickle feline shifter but she’s also trying to put some distance between them, and she’s keeping something from him. How can he concentrate on his job when things are getting too personal and Torger is breathing down his neck?

Nadia has finally shown up in Draven’s Crossing after being held for a “talk” with the head of the Feline Shifter Quorum, Zerik. Zerik wants her to go to Draven’s Crossing and figure out who’s making and distributing an addictive drug killing feline shifters and breaking up families. She thought she could get into town, find the culprits and blow out with no problem. Now she’s assigned to help her lover, Urban, with his werewolf problems. Her emotions for him are growing and for a woman who’s tried so hard not to form attachments, she fears her independent ways may have met their match. How can she keep her distance from the one man who could tear down her walls and stomp on her resistance?

Together they must stop the deaths, keep peace in the werewolf community and figure out where their relationship stands before everything is blown apart. Piece of cake, right? Not in Draven’s Crossing.

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Urban strode into the room. “Didn’t hear me? I said take off your clothes. Now.” Urban moved with predatorial grace. Her breath caught in her throat as she watched him glide forward, smooth and liquid. The soft light of the space illuminated his form until she could see him properly. He wore a black-and-white, checked carnival mask rimmed in gold. His torso was bare, but scars turned his rich golden skin into slices and swathes and a patchwork of healed and not so healed areas. She could see some bruises around his ribs and on his stomach. If he ached, it didn’t show. She didn’t ask him what happened. Nadia never asked. It was their rule. Even if she wanted to know, yearned to ask, had the questions on the tip of her tongue, the words never found their way out. If she allowed her curiosity free rein, that could open a door into her own past, and she didn’t want to go there and taint their relationship. He stopped moving and stood out of reach, a few feet away. Her heart flipped in her chest, and anticipation wove around her veins.

“Do I need to say it again?” He crossed his arms over his chest, showing off the sleeping wolf under a full moon tattoo that decorated his upper arm.

No more stalling, she told herself. Rather than reply verbally, she answered him with actions and stripped off the loose-fitting, Grecian-style chiton she’d appeared in. Only her shoes and the chandelier earrings remained. Through the eyeholes, she could see his green eyes blaze with passion. For a moment she hated the mask that caressed his face and hid his reactions from her. She wanted to trace the contours of his cheekbones, coated in a layer of golden stubble, see his sensuous lips that she’d kissed and nibbled at and yearned to feel in her loneliest hours. Another whimper formed in her throat. A question formed on her tongue, but again she let it fade away. Instead she focused on her body’s reactions to being so close to him once again. Her skin heated, and prickles of fire danced on her arms and legs. Arousal swirled in the pit of her stomach as her pussy throbbed with need. Her clit pulsed with anticipation. She fisted her hands to keep from touching herself. Urban hadn’t given her permission yet. Nadia wished he would order her to do something, anything. She needed this release, if for only a moment.

Urban reached down and undid his fly, much to her annoyance. She’d wanted the honor. Maybe she should give him a little taste of her impatience with a few brushes and accidental presses to his groin. The thick, ruddy crown of his shaft peeked out from between the V that formed at the front of his pants. This time, the whimper she’d been holding back slipped out. She wanted to tease that cockhead, swirl her tongue over the wide cap, and take him into her mouth. Instead, she clenched her fists and dug her nails into her palms. Sparks of pain rushed up her arms and added to the yearning that swirled around her body. Her skin felt too tight as her labia and the skin on her inner thighs tingled with anticipation and arousal.Urban tested her control further by pulling the panels of his pants apart a little more so she could see the start of his thick cock that disappeared into the ink-black leather.

Another sound slipped past her lips, unintelligible to her ears as he hooked his thumbs into his waistband and pushed them down until his cock was halfway out. He slipped a hand into the front opening of his pants. She watched the hidden show of him stroking his cock from base to tip and back down again, hiding the full display from her view.

“Want this? Need to taste me as much as I want to eat you out?” He pushed more of his pants down until only his balls were stuck.

She let out an anguished cry and started to move forward, only to stop herself.

Urban tsked at her and shook his head. “Did I say you could move?” Behind the mask, she could see his green eyes darken and harden.

Nadia bowed her head. “No, Sir.”

“Stand up and look at me.” His tone brokered no retort or smartass remark.

She did as she was told. Nadia hungrily watched as he continued to stroke his cock. A single clear tear wept from the slit at the top. With each downward action of his hand, she felt the shadow of his touch against her sex and deep inside. She could feel the ghost of calloused fingers and palms against her sides, her breasts, her back, her ass, her legs, all over until she stood before him, shaking with desire.

“Look at you, so beautiful, every inch of you perfection. I can’t get enough of you.” He moved forward, his cock bobbed with each step. Urban stopped an inch or so away from her. His body heat beat against her skin, adding to her own need. “Kneel and taste what you do to me.”

She sank to the floor and waited for him to bring his cock closer to her lips. Her heart pounded against her ribcage as the heavy throb of need in her womb reminded her that she still needed him inside of her. Urban sifted his fingers through her hair, brushing it away from her shoulders. He brushed the tresses back into a ponytail and gripped her hair, pulling back her head before he pushed his hips forward. His cock brushed against her lips. Her tongue darted out for a taste before she swirled it around the thick crest and then took it into her mouth. With a moan she teased the slit, lapping up more of his precum before taking him further inside of her. The heat and width of his cock burned her lips and stretched them to the limit.

He groaned and flexed his hips, pushing more of his shaft into her mouth. She traced the veins that her tongue could reach and teased the sensitive flesh. Her arousal built up with each thrust as her vaginal walls clenched and flexed and fluttered in time with each push. With a grunt, he pulled away from her. “No more; on the chaise, spread your legs.” His voice sounded harsh and torn, frayed around the edges.

Urban produced a condom packet from the pocket of his pants, tore it, and rolled it onto his flushed cock. His chest, shoulders, face, and ears were all red; sweat beaded on his brow and formed a fine sheen over his skin. He tugged off his boots and pants and strode toward her.

Nadia laid back on the lounge and watched his actions with amusement and impatience. “Please.” She dug her nails into her thighs to keep from working her clit and alleviating some of the need that had built to the point of discomfort. She needed release, now, to be ridden hard and fast; there was nothing tender about this encounter. Later, they could take it slow.

He didn’t answer. He climbed onto the chaise, wrapped her legs around his waist, and positioned himself at her dripping entrance. “Hold on, honey; this isn’t going to be sweet, not in the least.”

She thrust her chest out. “Don’t care, fuck me!” Her body was already at the edge without him touching her properly. Her nipples ached, and her skin felt too hot and tight. Every nerve ending was alive and burning with desire.

He didn’t punish her for that outburst. Urban thrust into her in one move. She was already so slick, there wasn’t any resistance. Nadia squeezed her inner muscles around his thick shaft.

“Touch yourself, honey,” he ordered. He paused to grip her hip and dangle her upward while balancing on one hand on the edge of the couch. Nadia ran her hands over his chest, raking her nails over his bright red skin. He let out a deep growl, pulled out of her, and slammed into her. With each thrust, he rocked her body and pushed her further over the edge

until she was clawing at her self-control to keep from coming without him. “Urban.” She moaned and rocked against him as she touched a finger to her oversensitive clit. Shards of fire burst in her gut, inflaming her body until she felt she would drown in fire. He fucked her hard, his cockhead rubbing against her G-spot with each thrust, setting off more sexual sparks.

Urban bent his head and took her mouth in a demanding, possessive, biting kiss. Their tongues dueled as she tightened her legs around his waist. She dug them into his ass. She worked her clit faster and faster until she couldn’t hold back her orgasm. The pressure increased until it burst and overwhelmed her. She stiffened as her nerve endings fired and her muscles shook. Urban continued to thrust into her, drawing ore orgasms out of her until she couldn’t move or think. Nadia became nothing but sensation and pleasure mingled with pain. Urban let out a howl as he came, pumping his hips until he softened inside of her. His breath fanned her face as he gazed down at her, pupils blown wide.

“My, Nadia,” he murmured.


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Snippet Sunday: Draven’s Crossing: Poisonous Desires

Coming Jan. 15th!



It’s time for the Werewolf Summit and this year it’s taking place in Draven’s Crossing. It’s a huge headache for Vampire Mayor Draven, and Chief of Police Torger. With the issues they’re having with the Council and the fallout of the serial killings both men want things to go smoothly so Torger asks his brother, Urban, to make sure the meetings go well. But this is Draven’s Crossing; what can go wrong will. Bodies start to show up and a drug epidemic hits in the feline shifter community. Two things Urban doesn’t need. When his sometimes lover Nadia is thrown into the mix, things go from bad to worse. Not only is he trying to hide his feelings for the fickle feline shifter but she’s also trying to put some distance between them, and she’s keeping something from him. How can he concentrate on his job when things are getting too personal and Torger is breathing down his neck?

Nadia has finally shown up in Draven’s Crossing after being held for a “talk” with the head of the Feline Shifter Quorum, Zerik. Zerik wants her to go to Draven’s Crossing and figure out who’s making and distributing an addictive drug killing feline shifters and breaking up families. She thought she could get into town, find the culprits and blow out with no problem. Now she’s assigned to help her lover, Urban, with his werewolf problems. Her emotions for him are growing and for a woman who’s tried so hard not to form attachments, she fears her independent ways may have met their match. How can she keep her distance from the one man who could tear down her walls and stomp on her resistance?

Together they must stop the deaths, keep peace in the werewolf community and figure out where their relationship stands before everything is blown apart. Piece of cake, right? Not in Draven’s Crossing.


Urban stared at Nadia. Shock reverberated through his body as blood pooled in his groin and filled his cock whether he wanted it to or not. He studied his woman. There were dark smudges under her eyes; she looked wired with energy and yet ready to crash. With her head bowed, he felt as if he’d walked into one of the many private rooms that they’d used to act out scenes and fulfill their deepest fantasies. His traitorous dick jerked in response while his jeans became far too tight for comfort. He growled, turned on his heel, and strode out of the café before he could do something he’d regret, like taking her in his arms and kissing the life out of her or yanking down her jeans and spanking her in punishment for not telling him she was in town. He ignored the twinge in his heart at seeing her and fullness of emotion that weighed on his chest at the very knowledge that she was so close to him and yet still so distant.
He struggled to breathe past the lump in his throat as he took in the dark bags under her eyes and her usually glowing skin that had lost that healthy halo. She tucked a few strands of dark brown hair behind her ear. It was shorter than the last time he’d seen her but still fell to her shoulders in a thick curtain. She wore a tight T-shirt that stretched across her full chest and showed off her trim waist. The jeans she wore sat low and hugged her hips. She wore simple black boots that peeked out from under the flared hems. She wore no jewelry; her makeup was simple gloss, and there was nothing else to detract from her natural beauty. Ever since he’d told her she was perfect without all the artifice she’d stopped being heavy-handed with her mascara and blush, and her lips had gone from thickly put on to a light swipe of lip gloss. His fingers and palms tingled to touch her face, cup her cheek, and thread his fingers through her hair. His lips ached to feel the press of her mouth on his. The urge to press himself against her body and feel the softness of her curves melt into him tugged at his gut.
To distract himself from giving in to that urge, he threw a glance over at the table she’d left. Urban recognized a werewolf from Torger’s department; what he did and why she was meeting with him was not his concern, for now. He knew some ways to make her tell him why she was here and why she was having breakfast with that guy rather than fucking him senseless in his bed for the rest of the morning. Breakfast forgotten and his appetite gone, he walked as far from the café and parking lot as he could get and waited for her to follow him. He didn’t doubt she’d come after him, not in fear or worry but because, like him, she couldn’t not be near him. They were like magnets: they’d meet, connect, and then repel each other. He had to be patient.
It didn’t take her long to catch up to him, walking, not running at a quick clip.
“Urban,” she murmured in her contralto smoky voice that sent rivulets of desire pouring through him. Again his heart twinged, the rhythm speeding up as he absorbed her presence and allowed himself to savor the warmth of her nearness. Up close, she looked wearier than what he’d seen at a distance. His heart ached for her. He wanted to take her back to Torger’s cabin, curl up around her, and order her to sleep. Once she was rested, then he’d make love to her and punish her for not telling him she was in town. If she hadn’t known that he was in Draven’s Crossing that was one thing, but still, none of this discomfort or annoyance would be taking place if they’d communicated. He pushed back on that thought and knew that he wasn’t exactly as forthcoming about where he would be from day to day either. God, we’re so fucked up, he thought.
“Nadia,” he replied. His fingers itched to trace the curve of her cheek, feel the silkiness of her skin, and his body demanded that he connect the loop of electricity that sparked off her and press himself against her. His cock gave another jerk. He reached down and ground the heel of his palm into his erection to stop the sensations flitting along the stalk before he did something stupid and stripped her out of her clothes to slide into her silken heat. He gritted his teeth as the pain burst in his groin, only to fade and turn to a dull throb. She watched his movement without saying a word. Nadia shifted from one foot to the other but didn’t move away. Her tongue darted out to slicken her lips, bringing attention to her plump lower lip. With a groan, he shook his head and tried to refocus on the issue at hand: them being in the same city at the same time without calling each other. At least, that was his concern. There was a bigger issue at hand.

Out Now! Draven’s Crossing: Hidden Diversions

I’m so excited! Today is a release day for me. The third book in the Draven’s Crossing series is out. *Grins* I hope you like it. I have another book or two planned for this series.


Excerpt: Meeting With Draven
Out Now at Purple Sword Publications
Draven’s Crossing: Hidden Diversions
Genre: Paranormal/Interracial
ISBN: 9781612920603
With so many distractions, can they catch a killer before someone else dies?

Their passion may be the death of them…

Werewolf Chief of Police, Torger, is running into walls while tracking the Draven’s Crossing serial killer. No matter what he tries to do, he can’t find the clues needed to stop the terror that stalks the streets of his city. Things aren’t helped by his attraction to dragon shifter, Draven City News Reporter, Isadora Jones. With political pressure and bodies mounting, can he get through all these distractions to the truth before it’s too late?

Reporter, Isadora Jones wants to help with the investigation into the serial killer but Torger refuses to let her. She decides to do it on her own, but her world goes upside down when the killer sets his sights on her. Under Torger’s protection, they start to put the pieces together but will it be too late for them?

Things go from bad to worse when another killer appears. Draven’s Crossing just got a whole lot more dangerous.

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Coming Soon!

Coming Soon!

Torger tossed and turned in his bed. He could smell her on his covers. Her scent drifted around the room like an enticing trail he wanted to follow. His skin burned as his muscles contracted. Blood flowed straight to his cock, thickening the shaft. His balls hardened and throbbed with the need for release. With a groan, he rolled onto his stomach. His mind was split into two parts: one half didn’t think it was right to want sex much less have it with so many bodies piling up, and the other didn’t give a shit and needed to feel something good in a world full of crap. He didn’t want to think about anything. He had the All Packs meeting that was coming up after the full moon. His mind was abuzz with thoughts and lists. There were things he had to do and things he had to discuss. Torger hadn’t met with his Beta yet, nor had he met the new leader of the Branson pack after the old one had been ousted. Then he had to make sure that Draven would get the old ones to meet with him about the killer. There was Evanson to deal with, and he didn’t want to think about the shit storm that could come out of accusing him of anything, especially not with the man’s wife dead. Whether he had anything to do with it or not, the public wouldn’t be happy. Muffy Evanson was a beloved figure in the community. If the Representative had anything to do with her death, there would be chaos. He needed to be sure, to dig deeper. Torger knew he’d have to ask Isy to dive into the archives and see what she came up with.
The sweetest perfume drifted under his door. He snorted and sat up. She was near. His eyes had already adjusted to the darkness. He saw a shadow move in front of his door but it didn’t go to the guest room across the hall. He waited; the seconds ticked by. Each moment like a drip of water on his face, it seemed to last forever and there was no end in sight. He swallowed. His lips became dry as his heartbeat sped up. The jangle of a hand on the door handle rang in his ears. The delicate shells prickled at the musical sound. He waited. His heart stuttered and then crashed against his ribcage in a heavy drum beat. His body heat spiked as his wolf waited. Need coiled in the pit of his stomach. He licked his lips again, hoping, praying for what, he didn’t know. All he saw was that if she didn’t do something soon, he would. And then there would be no turning back. Everything would change for them, and he wasn’t sure how everyone would react or how everything would land.
As the seconds ticked by, her shadow remained at the door. The hand had stopped jiggling. Opening up his senses, he allowed her emotions to wash over him. He tasted the tang of hesitation with the sweetness of eagerness. All of it was tinged with the bright spice of lust. Underneath it all, there was Isy’s own unique natural scent. Not wanting to let the torture for both of them continue, he called out, “Isy, you can come in.”
There was a moment and then the door knob turned. Her perfume and emotions rushed into the room, driving away the stale trail she’d made before. It was as if someone had turned on the sun in his room. Heat poured over him in waves as she advanced into the space and shut the door behind her. Both of them were covered in darkness and yet he knew she stood between the door and his bed. So close and yet so far away as the cliché went. His fingers ached to hold her, to feel the silken warmth of her skin and bury his face in her neck and inhale deeply. Torger’s lips tingled with the need to kiss her, to feel her lips against his and slide his tongue into her mouth and taste her. He wondered what he’d find there. He didn’t want to think about it anymore.
“Isy? What’s wrong?” Torger knew what was wrong but didn’t want to come out and say it. His wolf on the other hand wanted him to get up off the bed, strip off her clothes, bury his face between her thighs and eat her out until she came. His cock jerked at that urge. Heat flared along his skin, flushing through is cheeks, down his throat, and crashing into his chest. Prickles danced along his flesh as his nerve endings came alive. His sense sharpened as his wolf came into play, pushing at its restraints, demanding that they finally get what they’d longed for after so much denial. And he couldn’t move. Frozen by his guilt as his responsibility pushed forward to the forefront of his mind. Pack. Duty. Draven’s Crossing. Those words screamed in his head, and he felt a tinge of shame.
No shame! His wolf cried out and growled at its master’s retreating libido. His skin cooled as his heart went back to its normal rhythm.
“Torger. Shut up. Stop thinking.” Isy’s voice came out as a low, husky command. Just like that, the fire inside burst to life. It went from simmer to all out firestorm as Isy advanced toward his bed. How she knew about the war going on in his head he didn’t know. Do dragons smell things the way other shifters do? The question pushed back some of his doubts.
The bed dipped under her weight, which served to shove back more of the pressure on his mind.
“Can you…” The question caught around a lump in his throat. It had formed when he wasn’t looking. A nervous sweat began on his forehead. He felt large and unsure of himself, like a teenager during his first experience. “Your stress and frustration reeks. It’s time to put an end to that. Your doubts and concerns won’t save the people of Draven’s Crossing and it sure as hell won’t help you catch the killer. Now didn’t I tell you to shut up?” Her hands closed around his ankles. He felt them slide up his legs. The cloth abraded his skin. Even though it was smooth cotton, it felt a thousand times rougher than before. He swallowed again, not used to this side of Isy. Rather than ask, he did as she said and stayed quiet. He didn’t move or even dare to breathe without her say so. His thoughts drifted away with her touch. She ran her hands over his thighs. The scrape of her nails over the cotton intensified his sense of touch. The blunted pain only enhanced his need. Desire crawled through his body as blood thickened in his veins. Her unique aroma became his air. Each gulp sent his head spinning and his mind drifting. He was lightheaded with her nearness.
“You’re going to let me take care of you. I’ll be handling your pleasure tonight. You do what I say and want without a single word, understand?” She placed a butterfly kiss on his stomach, so light it could have been the brush of the wind for all he knew. Her humid breath told him otherwise.
Torger nodded his acquiescence. He let out a yelp when he felt her teeth sink into one ridge of his abdominals. “No. Let me hear you say it. Tell me, yes, Isy, I understand.” She lapped at the pained flesh with quick licks of her tongue. Each lap pulled a soft groan from his throat as the pain turned to pleasure.
“Yes, Isy, I understand. Please.” He reached for her, wanting to bury his hands in her hair and pull her close but did nothing until told to. His alpha male self went to war over giving power to Isy. It had nothing to do with her being a woman or even a dragon. Everything in him was designed to take care of people, solve problems, and yet he was rescinding control to her. He was allowing her to take care of his problem, solve it for him and take care of him. He wasn’t sure how to respond so he did nothing. Curiosity peeked out from the wolf. It wondered how this would go, not in the least bothered by the shift in power.

Cover Candy Alert!

Here’s the cover for the upcoming third book in the Draven’s Crossing series, Hidden Diversions!


So what do you think? I’ll have the release date for you soon. I finished the first round of edits on Monday.



Contract News

Wanted to let you know that I signed a contract for the third Draven’s Crossing story, Hidden Diversions and I’ve just turned in my edits. I’m hoping to have two book covers to show you guys before the week is out.



Heroes, Villains and In-Between- Diana Castilleja

What makes a hero tick?

Well, that’s a bit of a loaded question. Because for as many types of men (and women) out there, there are just as many heroes. The silent, do-it-all-or-die type. The in-your-face type. Even the ones who are nothing but heart.

My heroes tend to be a mixing bag of all of those traits and whatever else happens to work for that story and for them. Each character is unique unto themselves and I love that about them. Even when they add to my gray hair.

Examination room one: Xavier’s Way
Our hero: Xavier De Los Santos
A hard working, self-motivated type of man, from a family of strong men (all brothers. You kinda feel sorry for their mother, I know I do!). What happens though when life throws him a slow and sexy curve ball in the form of one Jordan Belton? He shakes in his work boots is what happens! And the incredible thing about how he handles that curve ball is by admitting he’s scared. Admitting he may be wrong. No matter what direction he tries to take, but takes it anyway.

So he’s one type. Flexible. Accepting, able to stand up to a challenge. But sensitive to the fact that once the cat is out of the bag-Jordan’s personal attraction-he doesn’t give fate the finger. He stands up to it and challenges himself to embrace it.

Terrifying, isn’t it? You’ll have to read his story to see just how he handles it.

Xavier’s Way Book Info:

Pubilisher Link:

ARe Link:




Examination room two: Wolf Brother’s Legacy: Resurrection
Our Hero(ine): Angela Merrick (Yes a woman)

This woman has had life kick her while she’s down and even when life doesn’t let her catch her breath, she..doesn’t..stop…living. I will have to admit, this chick was hard to write. Stubbornest damn ass of a person…but that’s a side rant. In truth, just staying alive and on her own two feet is her biggest challenge because she’s dying. She knows it. She’s accepted it, now if the rest of the damn world would just let her be until she can’t fight back any longer, she’d be content. Yeah, life doesn’t happen that way.

She’s the type of woman that personifies inner strength, because even when life is kicking her ass, she kicks back. Hard. She doesn’t stop when her mind and heart are set on something. She will fight tooth and nail for what she believes in. The lioness. A fighter.

Her type is very in your face with her strength, but feminine. A spine of steel with a conscientious heart.

Wolf Brother’s Legacy: Resurrection Book Info:
Publisher Link:
(Releasing this summer)

Examination room three: Beneath the Shield
Our hero: Jack Torres
Now here is a yummy example of alpha male that has been wounded so badly, he’s drifting, mostly hiding, living, but on the very edges. He’s the type to let you run into his fist, not hit you. His heart is in desperate need of CPR, and a certain doctor has just what he needs.

Jack learns to let go, that living is now. He is a deep strength, because only that in human nature allows us to forgive ourselves. Being a police officer shows he’s not immune to the world around him, and he shows that, but woe be to the one who dares to reach him.

So that’s three strong, very similar characters, but in each story they are as individual and unique as the world between page one and ‘The End’.

How do I see heroes? I see them in all shapes and sizes, everywhere, from the young man who helped me one afternoon to aid the driver of a car that had flipped–yes, flipped–barely thirty feet in front of me on a busy highway, to the kindness of making someone’s day by taking donuts to work–when you don’t work there. They are all around us, in the small and big things they do. There is no age limitations, no city-to-cowboy delineation, not even male versus female. We all are heroes, and I want my readers to recognize that facet of themselves in the characters I write.

Beneath the Shield Book Info:

Publisher Link:

ARe Link:

Kindle Link:


Diana Castilleja/Diana DeRicci Bio:
With more than half a dozen ebooks currently to her credit and her first print book released in 2008, Diana Castilleja has kept busy since she started writing professionally in late 2004. Diana currently resides in central Texas with her husband and son. When not focusing her energy on her family and her writing, she loves to travel and haunt bookstores. She’s lived in several states across the south and midwest, as well as traveling to Mexico. With moving every year or changing schools since the fourth grade to her sophomore year, she learned reading was a fast escape. The freedom to read about anything and everything has fueled her adult imagination. She also enjoys romance, horses, and yes, still loves to read. Right now, she’s probably attacking her keyboard writing her next book. If she’s not, she should be!

Purple Sword Week Winners

Thank you to everyone for commenting. Congrats to the winners!

Traci- Kimmie L.
Dawne- Judy C.
Diana- Brannan B.
Sandra- Savannah C.
Lila-Ilona F

Thank You to Purple Sword Publications for coming out. Winners will be contacted via email.


First Christmas by Diana DeRicci

*Pulls out chair and gets comfy*

So, Selena has let us, the rowdies from Purple Sword Publications, take over her blog for a week. Think she’d notice if her box of Godiva was missing? I know I saw one in her drawer over there. Okay, no conniving to get chocolate. *Pockets plan for a later date*

Well, let’s see. A few of us have already been by to gab and share. Let me tell you a little about what I do. Yes, I’m an author, both halves of me. LOL I’m also the review coordinator. I’m the one who sends and tracks review requests of each release. An average of ten different sites and houses get each release. When it’s returned, it’s posted in the reviews section of the PSP site. Be sure to check there often as they go up as soon as I get them forwarded to the head boss-lady. :)

Honestly, I love Purple Sword. Covers are fabulous, editors are pretty much aweseomsauce (if mine are reading this, you know you are, so just smile and nod), and one-on-one author-to-publisher or even customer-publisher relations is phenomenal. Seriously, where else would you get a corrected file copy at midnight? I’ve seen it happen. :)

As for what I write, I’d say “throw a dart” because I cover darned near everything in romance. Non-erotic is by Diana Castilleja, and anything that can be called erotic is by Diana DeRicci. Right now, I have a Christmas novella out FIRST CHRISTMAS, an M/M paranormal that has been receiving some wonderful reader praise. These guys really tug at the heartstrings. *sigh* Love Jason to bits! Okay, enough from me. Here’s a little taste for you guys!

P.S. If you have any questions or comments, please leave them!

A stranded wolf. A cougar shifter to the rescue. Can the magic of one Christmas cure both their pain and loneliness?

Exhausted and injured, Jason is driven as a rogue wolf right into the arms of Lyndon, a man that by all he knows, he should never reveal his heart to. Yet when patience and compassion prove size can hide the heart of a gentle giant, a wounded Jason begins to heal. And to love again.
For two days the routine was essentially the same. Lyndon offered, and the wolf retreated. Healed enough to leave on the next morning, they both woke to a sheet of falling white.

?Well, damn. That?s going to make it fun,? Lyndon muttered. He didn?t let it show when he heard the wolf grump. He didn?t want to stay. Staying meant needing to shift was becoming a necessity.

?Well, let me get the morning going. Biscuits and gravy with bacon sound okay to you??

He didn?t wait for an answer, aware that expecting one would likely put more pressure on his guest. Instead, he laid out clothes again then went outside, tackling the snow to bring it in to melt.

Moving around the kitchen, he noticed the gray fur rug that had taken up residence in front of the fireplace was gone. The initial thought was he?d tried to leave during the blizzard, but he sincerely prayed he wouldn?t risk it.

He kept his surprise from being too obvious when he heard movement?physical human movement?from his bedroom.

Seemed patience had outlasted stubborn.

At six-eight, Lyndon knew he was intimidating. Because of that, he?d grown accustomed to moving slowly, talking gently, even if he was prone to talk a lot when he got going. He wasn?t the type to fly off the handle without provocation, and he didn?t stay mad for long. He?d hoped his guest had realized that over the last few days. Heck, even as a full size wolf, he?d looked more like a pup next to him. Not that he?d ever say that. Shifters did have pride.


Lyndon stopped stirring the gravy on the stove and turned to look for the first time at his guest. Shaggy auburn hair crowned a pale face, taken up almost completely by wide gray eyes.

?Morning,? Lyndon replied.

In an instant, Lyndon could discern without question why he hadn?t wanted to change. For a guy, he was too pretty. Big, stone gray eyes circled by cinnamon lashes, with a slim nose and perfect cheekbones, and full, sunset pink lips. With the red tint to his hair and fair skin, Lyndon guessed there was some natural redhead in his family tree, but the overall mix he got was pure feminine beauty.

On a guy it was a ticket to a life of hell.

The shirt and thermals he?d left on the bed swallowed the man?s frame. He was five-seven or -eight, if he stretched. A light frame made it worse. He wasn?t thin, or gamine, but he wasn?t thick like an athlete would be either.

Lyndon turned to not stare, aware that would make him more uncomfortable, continuing with breakfast. ?There?s spare toothbrushes in the catchall in the bathroom, and socks in the dresser. The gray thermals will keep you warm.? And everything he owned would be like dressing a five year-old in dad?s clothes.

?Thanks. I appreciate it,? he replied, a little soft, a lot nervous.

?No problem. This will be ready soon.?

He caught it out of the corner of his eye when his small pink tongue snuck out and licked his bottom lip. ?Jason Stanville.?

?Lyndon Granger. Nice to meet you.?

When he didn?t make any demands and Jason didn?t seem inclined to ask, he spun and vanished quickly into the bedroom. Lyndon let out a slow breath.

Way too pretty. How has he survived? Considering all the hiding he did the last three days, he wondered if he really was only surviving.

Purple Sword Publications

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Author biography: Lila is an author who specializes in erotic romance with an element of the fantastic. ?When she’s not busy clicking the keys for the 12-novella series Jewels of Desire, she’s working on a myriad of new storylines that she’ll get around to writing down someday. On the rare occasion that her German work ethic lets her step away from the computer, she can be found one of two places: the gym or one of the fancy restaurants that make it necessary for her to go to the gym.

Web link(s): ?



Anya is a single girl whose work-from-home lifestyle keeps her social life down to zero.? She hasn?t been on a date is so long that she can?t even dream up a decent fantasy man for the romance novel she is trying to write to pay her bills.? That all changes when her globe-trotting best friend sends her a surprise souvenir–a mysterious jewelry box with twelve smaller compartments.? When Anya dons the gems inside, she is whisked away in her sleep.? The laws of time and space don?t apply as she is transported around the globe and throughout history to experience lovers she never would have imagined even in her wildest dreams.? But there?s a catch.? There?s always a catch.
The buy link:

An excerpt (any heat rating):Anya sat cross-legged on the ground, staring at the necklace. It had to be the necklace that brought her to this strange place. What was Vanessa thinking? She’d been sitting here, listening to the goats bleating for what seemed like hours now. Outside the billowing walls of the tent, life went on, assumedly as normal, or whatever passed for normal in a wasteland encampment. She still hadn’t screwed up the courage to leave the tent. She told herself it was the lack of clothing.

Laughter from just outside the entrance finally broke Anya’s concentration on the necklace. She scrambled to the edge of the curtain that served as an interior wall as a man in loose-fitting black robes flipped aside the entrance. For a few moments, he stood blocking the doorway as he finished the conversation he was having with a person outside. The other voice was as dry and graveled as the ground. The man who entered cut a dark silhouette against the backdrop of the afternoon sun, obscuring his facial features from Anya’s view. A red-and-white-checkered cloth covered his head, secured by a double strand of black rope. He had to duck to clear the lower dips in the tent’s ceiling. Long, graceful strides carried him to where she hid. Her breath caught in her throat as she turned to stand stock still against the shifting wall. She barely heard his approaching footsteps through the frantic beating of her heart. As he moved closer, he started to hum a lilting melody. What would she say when he asked how she got there? Or what she was doing there? His voice rumbled deep in his throat as he started to half sing the lulling song. Anya clutched the rough blanket tighter around her naked body and squeezed her eyes shut tight.

The humming stopped.

She felt his presence standing in front of her for several long moments before she dared chance a look.

Two round eyes, so brown they looked black in the dim light, scanned her from head to toe. There was no anger, no irritation, and no confusion in them. If anything, Anya would have said he looked amused. She stared into the man’s face, unable to tear her gaze away. Light stubble dusted his square jaw, giving him shadows beneath high cheekbones. His skin was the color of milk chocolate left in the sun and glistened with a sheen of sweat and fine sand. Her heart began racing in earnest when he gave her a lopsided grin.

“Ma hadha?” The question sounded friendly enough.

She shook her head and shrugged, hoping he understood that she didn’t.

“What is this? You are no Bedu,” he said.

Her question came out as a breathless whisper. “Bedu?”

“Person of the desert,” he answered. Giving her another appreciative head-to-toe glance, he reached out to run his fingers down her arm. A trail of goosebumps followed his fingers. “No. Your skin is far too pale.”

Anya’s skin felt on fire where he touched her. “Who are you? Is this a dream?”

The man threw back his head and laughed, revealing a flash of white teeth behind his full lips. “My name is Muammar, and if the laws of hospitality did not forbid it, I would ask you the same,” he explained. “If you are a dream, then it is the most beautiful one I have ever had.” He stretched a hand toward her hair.

Ducking under his arm and stepping past him, she evaded his grasp. She could only imagine what the night, and possibly time travel, had done to the state of her curls. Chances were it hadn’t improved the mess.

He erupted in hearty laughter, the sound like rich velvet in her ears. His whole torso shook as he closed the distance between them. “How is it that you come into my home without clothes and now become so modest?”

Anya backed up until her heels hit the edge of the mattress she woke up on. “I?I, well?” She wondered what she should say. This had to be a dream. “I don’t know,” she finished lamely. She dropped her eyes to the ground rather than look him in the face any longer. “Now, now,” Muammar said, tipping her chin upward with long, tan fingers. “It is of no importance to me how you came here, simply that you are here.” He leaned forward, bringing his lips to touch lightly against hers. His breath smelled of coffee and cinnamon. Strong hands cradled her face.

The pounding of her heart drowned out the sound of the voice in her head as his hands found their way into her hair. Ignoring the warning scream in her head, she parted her lips to his gentle kiss, instantly rewarded with the feel of his tongue dancing across her mouth. What the hell? A dream was a dream. Imaginary sex was the safest she could have, and lately, the only kind she’d been having. Letting the blanket fall out of one hand, she reached up to touch the black ropes that held his head covering in place.

Muammar removed the checkered cloth with a quick jerk, letting it fall to the desert floor in a fluttering spiral. Anya ran her fingers through his close-cropped black curls and trailed them down his face, feeling the scratch of his new beard against her palm. He wrapped his arms around her and lifted her off the ground until her head stood slightly above his.

Anya gasped as his strong embrace forced the air from her lungs, and she threw her arms around his neck. The woolen blanket fell away to reveal her naked body to the warm air. She didn’t have time to feel self-conscious before she felt him, hard against her leg. Breaking the kiss, she pulled her face away and stared down into his eyes. Desire burned bright as coals as he looked back at her, unblinking, and she knew whatever suspicions she had for the current situation were lost. Dream or reality, there was no question about it; he wanted her, and that was enough.

“My most beautiful dream,” he whispered into her ear, his breath hot on her bare skin.

What prize are you offering? ?An emailed copy of one of the installments of Jewels of Desire (i.e. the first, “Garnet Dreams,” unless the winner already happens to have one.)