The best way to conquer fear is to just do whatever it is that’s scaring you. At least, that’s what Nike says.
A Disturbing Prospect was haunting me. At one point, I was considering postponing it. Two things had me on the fence:
1) It’s my darkest novel yet. I’ve written some darkbooks, but nothing like this.
2) Originally, I’d planned on waiting to publish it. I wanted to have at least three books written in the series.
Then I decided, you know what? I’m Netflix. I write dark and light books. I don’t publish series straight through; I hop around. You have to wait for the new season of Jessica Jones, but you get Luke Cage in the meantime (and trust me, it’s not at all a bad deal).
So I did what Nike’s been telling me to do my whole life, and hit publish three weeks early—even before my cover reveal. Feast your eyes on this baby, then grab your copy!
A Disturbing Prospect
Something inside me is stirring, like a sleeping beast in its lair. For twenty years I’ve been dead, but Olivia makes me feel alive. Wide awake and alert, ready for anything.
And I know Lucy, my cousin and only friend in the world, won’t have it.
She’d be completely right, of course. Olivia is family—Lucy’s little sister. Even if she’s adopted. Even if we didn’t grow up together. I share no memories with her but we share family. Her parents are my aunt and uncle, for fuck’s sake. It’s one place I can’t go—and it’s the one place I most want to be.
Cliff has me doing all kinds of things I don’t normally—like thinking about him and sighing like a school girl. I need to get back in the game, keep moving. I can’t let him get to me like this.
This has never happened before. It’s stupid and it needs to stop. Yes, he’s sexy and he makes me laugh, but I can’t let myself get carried away. I can’t.
Even if he’s the only one who can help me—because he’s the only other person I know who’s taken a life.
A week and a half ago, I got a vague email from Amazon informing me that I’d violated policy and that I needed to stop, otherwise they’d suspend my account. I have no idea what I might’ve done, and neither the Seller Performance Team nor Kindle Direct Publishing have bothered to provide me with further information—even though I’ve sent multiple inquiries.
The only thing I’ve been doing differently lately is almost weekly takeovers and giveaways in Facebook groups. As far as I’m aware, Amazon policy still allows for authors to give away copies of our books, so I’m not sure how this would be a violation. It’s the only thing I can think of, though.
I know that many authors and reviewers have been receiving emails like this. Some have had reviews deleted and others have had their accounts suspended—usually with no notice or explanation. Amazon has been trying to combat scammers for quite some time, but many legitimate authors and reviewers have been caught in the crossfire.
Lately I’ve been using Kindle docs to send ebook files to my giveaway winners. This is the same delivery method I was planning to use to send advanced review copies (ARCs) of A Disturbing Prospect. Again, as far as I know, this is perfectly within Amazon’s TOS, but as many authors and reviewers are reporting, no one really knows why Amazon is targeting some folks.
Because of this situation, I’ve decided not to give away ARCs of A Disturbing Prospect. Doing so would result in multiple copies delivered via Kindle docs, and I’m concerned that—although it’s a completely normal and legitimate practice—it would flag Amazon and potentially cause my account to be suspended.
Writing is my livelihood, and even though Amazon is just one retailer, I very much want to maintain a positive relationship with them (and every other retailer I work with).
I know a lot of my readers were looking forward to the early copies, and I apologize for the inconvenience. A Disturbing Prospect will be available via all retailers on January 29th. If you’d like, you can purchase a copy and then review if you so choose. Join my email list to be notified as soon as it’s available!
Satire and parody are two of my favorite forms of comedy. I grew up with and loved MADtv (and I’m not sorry that SNL will never compare, try as they might). I’ve always skirted the edges of writing comedy, though—mostly because I’m weird and not sure the world is ready for me.
That’s all about to change.
The Best Trump Anthology Ever
Time assassins. The entire nation of Scotland. Satan himself.
You thought President Donald J. Trump was outrageous? See 13 fictional Trumps combat absurd enemies in these amazing 16 short stories—the BEST ever.
Some classy but most downright ludicrous, these tremendously winning stories are going to take care of your need for entertainment, Little Reader Man. Believe me!
We’re making fiction great again for billions and trillions of incredible readers just like you. You know it, I know it, everybody knows it. Grab your copy now!
These stories are imploding, and soon will explode. To miss out would cause an absolute and total catastrophe. Buy the book now before the price goes up!
WARNING: Not suitable for low-energy types, weak men, losers, lightweights, zeros, Crazy Megyn, Crooked Hillary or Lyin’ Ted!
Gazing out from the view of his penthouse in Trump Tower, Donald Trump eyed his city with satisfaction. In the morning, he would be sworn in as the 45th president of the United States. Everything was going according to plan. It wouldn’t be long until he made America great again.
He frowned. The mob of protesters still surrounded his tower. It wasn’t fair. Protesters, he mused, ought to be thrown in jail. They were terrorists, plain and simple. The first thing he was going to have Jeff Sessions do as Attorney General was punish them all.
Grinding his teeth, he shook his head at them in contempt. His jaw stuck out, a nearly permanent expression from years of clenching. He turned from the window and drew the curtains closed behind him. Already clad in pajamas, he ambled past his empty California king and back into the master bathroom. Melania, his wife, kept her own apartment in Trump Tower on the floor beneath him, and would move into the White House as First Lady. He, on the other hand, he mused as he popped in his nightguard, would remain in Trump Tower. A president should look over his people, not out at them.
Steaks, Walls, and Dossiers features my debut into political satire, “She’s Totally Changed Her Look.” Writing has always been my way of figuring out and coping with the world around me. Participating in this anthology was A) cheaper than therapy and B) an exciting opportunity to stretch my comedic muscles.
It’s also currently on sale for only $0.99—for a limited time. Grab your copy now, and get ready to relax with some laughs.
Single dad Max isn’t looking for love—or so he thinks.
Single dad Max isn’t looking for love—he only needs someone to help take care of his two-year-old daughter, Chloe. Or so he thinks. After being kicked out of his parents’ house, he’s determined to make it on his own. But juggling a full-time job, an undergrad program, and childcare is pretty much impossible. When his best friend jokingly suggests he post an ad for a live-in nanny on Craigslist, he goes for it. After all, he has nothing to lose . . . right?
When artist Savannah quickly responds to his ad, Max is thrilled. Her resume is perfect and Chloe seems to like her, despite the slightly menacing tattoos decorating her arm. Savannah brings a light and warmth into his life that he never thought possible. Max hasn’t so much as dated since Chloe was born, but he’s willing to give it a shot with Savannah. There’s just one problem.
Everything is perfect just the way it is. Even his daughter is happy. If he messed up things up with Savannah, how could he ever forgive himself?
It’s WIP Wednesday, and since my Facebook fans asked so nicely yesterday, today I’m sharing a little snippet from A Disturbing Prospect. I’m elbow deep in edits and every scene makes me so excited for you to meet Cliff and Olivia. I have to confess, Olivia is my favorite character that I’ve written to date. I’m so pleased to introduce you to her!
I glance over at Lucy. She’s sitting at the desk, pen in hand, making a grocery list. We have a mini fridge and a microwave, so my expectations are pretty low. “Is that why you never want to get married?”
There’s no answer because the door opens and all six-plus feet of Cliff bursts into the room. His brown eyes are actually smiling, and someone must’ve taken pity on him because his wild beard has been tamed back into a goatee. He instantly earns back twenty hot points.
“I have good news.” His gaze flits from me to Lucy, then back to me.
One of my eyebrows lifts out of habit, but I’m so busy wondering why he’s telling me that I miss whatever good news he wants to share.
“That’s awesome!” Lucy flies across the room and flings herself into his arms.
He wraps her in a bear hug, an amused look on his face. “Isn’t it? You don’t need to go grocery shopping now.”
She relaxes into his embrace. “I know,” she says dreamily. “We can take the train back and eat at my place.”
Clearing my throat, I shake my head. “Uh-uh, we have a deal.”
Stepping back from Cliff, Lucy presses her lips together and gives me a little nod. “Yeah, you’re right. We need to celebrate!” She hugs him again. “I’m so glad you’re coming home,” she says into his chest.
A twinge of jealousy runs through me. I want to be hugging him, celebrating his good news. It’s totally stupid. I don’t know him, and I don’t plan on it. One night is enough for me, and then it’s occasional family gatherings. No hugs or lullabies. I’m going to reintegrate him into society by fucking his brains out, then it’s back to class for me.
“And I’m glad I don’t have to do laundry now.” I toss the bag to the side, then reach for my cigarettes.
“Not so fast,” Lucy says. “It’s still gotta get done. I’m not putting his dirty clothes into my suitcase with my clean clothes.”
Cliff glances back and forth between us. He holds up his hands. They’re huge and square, perfect for massaging naked breasts. Twenty more hot points, which puts him at 110. Off the fucking charts, even with the crusty socks. Fuck me. I think I’m actually going to swoon.
“You don’t have to do that.” He smiles at me—really, for real smiles—and nods toward the bag. “Toss that over. I’ve got it.”
Lucy snorts. Both of us turn toward her. “Dude, you don’t even know how to do laundry.”
He scowls at her. “What do you think I am, a fucking rock? I can figure it out.”
My sister’s lips press together, and I can practically see the laugh throwing itself at her closed mouth, trying to break through. “What if Livvie goes with you? She’s gotta do her own anyway. And mine.” She smiles sweetly at me.
“Tequila,” I remind her.
She nods. “Have fun.”
* * *
The laundromat is empty, thank goodness. It’s going to be embarrassing enough for the guy to have to be taught how to do laundry. I show him how to load the card at the kiosk, then take him over to the machines.
“You just throw everything in,” I explain, reaching for my laundry bag. But I don’t take my own advice. Reaching for everything slowly, I pause every time I get to a lacy little thong, making sure he sees it. “Then,” I bend over slowly, “you swipe your card, set your time . . .” I straighten and pour detergent and fabric softener into their respective compartments, the liquid a slow drizzle.
When I sneak a glance at him, he’s making zero effort to conceal the fact that he’s staring at me. Suddenly it really sinks in that we’re alone. There’s an employee somewhere, probably reading a magazine or watching evening television. Crazy porn-esque thoughts stampede through my head: Cliff shoving me against the machines, his teeth digging into my lower lip as he sucks on it, his knee between my legs.
A whimper escapes my lips.
The heat in his eyes is searing, flames edging toward my skin, threatening to consume me and reduce me to ashes. And I’m not even at all scared. I want it so bad, I’m shaking.
He takes a step toward me.
Swallowing hard, I move in. I’ve never been one to let anyone else make the first move. I reach for his shoulders, my lips already parting. I’m wetter than I’ve ever been in my life. This is going to be it, the sex that rockstars write songs about. The kind of sex I can look back on when I’m married with two-point-five kids and I’m covered in baby goo. It’ll be the lay to close my list.
I step forward. He closes the distance between us. Rising up on the balls of my feet, I take aim. He reaches behind me. My eyes flutter as I realize he’s going to lift me up onto one of the tables and take me right here.
A beep sounds.
I open my eyes. Cliff takes a step back and turns away. The washing machine begins to fill, water and soap sluicing around my clothes.
“Thanks for your help,” he says over his shoulder, already setting up his own machine.
Heart thundering in my chest, I make a beeline for the door, a cigarette already between my lips. Stupid, stupid, stupid, my heartbeat punctuates my thoughts.
Learn more about A Disturbing Prospect and add it to your Goodreads shelves here!
The cat’s out of the bag: my next book, A Disturbing Prospect, will be available January 29th!
This book is a lot different from my others. It’s a romance, but it’s much darker. Heavier. Steamier.
There’s revenge, vigilante bikers, and ravenous love.
I wrote this book in two weeks flat and then I sat on it for over a year. I didn’t know what to do with it. I toyed with the idea of making it into a series, but that didn’t feel right. Locking it up wouldn’t work, though.