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What do a gallery owner, ancient Celtic warriors, and the owner of an antique store have in common…besides their author? Come spend some time with paranormal romance and fantasy author Juli D. Revezzo, March 31, at 3PM at paranormal and romance lovers, Facebook page and find out!

Juli D. Revezzo is a Florida girl, with a love of fantasy, science fiction, and Arthurian legend, so much so she gained a B.A. in English and American Literature. She loves writing stories with fantastical elements whether it be a full-on fantasy, or a story set in this world–slightly askew. She has been published in short form in Crossing the River: An Anthology of Pagan Fiction in Honor of Sacred Journeys; Eternal Haunted Summer; Dark Things II: Cat Crimes (a charity anthology for cat related charities), Luna Station Quarterly, The Scribing Ibis: An Anthology of Pagan Fiction in Honor of Thoth, and Twisted Dreams Magazine. She is author of The Artist’s Inheritance, Caitlin’s Book of Shadows (of the Antique Magic series) and has recently released her debut paranormal romance novel, Passion’s Sacred Dance. She also has an article and book review or two out there. But her heart lies in the storytelling. She is a member of the Independent Author Network and the Magic Appreciation Tour.



Homepage: http://julidrevezzo.com

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/julidrevezzo

Twitter: @julidrevezzo


The hostesses of Author Roast & Toast are at it again. The talented Beth Trissel is our roastee today and she’s brought along a copy of her Colonial romance, KIRA Daughter of THE MOON for one lucky commenter. So put on your cyber party clothes and come join the fun at

Author Roast & Toast

Welcome and Merry Christmas maniacs! I’m stoked to have fellow Still Moments Publishing author and friend, Terri Rochenski embrace the mania today because let’s face it, who doesn’t love a Christmas romance? I’ve never written one but I love reading them and Terri stopped by today to tell us about her holiday romance, Beginning of Forever, part of SMP’s Christmas Magic anthology.

Hiya, Terri and congrats on the release of Beginning of Forever. What was the germ of the idea behind your story?

You’ll see in the dedication that the story was inspired by my sister-in-law’s real-life story of love lost & refound.

Oh, Christmas is the perfect time for second chances, isn’t it? What is the first book you remember loving?

Laura Ingles series my mom-mom (grandmother) got for me when I was 7.

Yep, that’s a winner. What little girl didn’t dream of having Pa for a dad, and getting the best of Nelly? 😉 Where is the oddest place you’ve ever pulled out a book?

Hmmm. While in labor? haha

LOL Now, why didn’t I think of that? Besides a critiquing partner, is there someone you let read your ms before submitting?

My mother. Before hitting that ‘submit’ button I need the boost only she can give.

Go Mom! They make the best cheerleaders. Which of the characters you’ve written most resembles you, and why?

Strangely enough, I’d have to say Kemen from ‘Beyond Diljan’, one of the first flash fiction pieces I had published with Hogglepot Journal. The link can be found on my website. Kemen is curious and brave, but he will do what needs done whether he likes the idea or not.

Qualities that make the best kind of heroes. Was your road to publication a hair-raising, pothole ridden mountain pass, or a well-tended superhighway?

My first attempts of getting an agent YEARS ago was potholed to hell. Even with a letter of introduction by Anne Tyler I had no luck. I DID get Donald Maass to read / crit the first chapter of an historical romance I wrote. Once I joined Scribophile, a critique site, I learned I wasn’t as good as I thought. Honestly, a few months there and submitting & getting accepted proved much easier for me. More well-tended highway-ish than most travel I think.

Cats or dogs?

Even though I have  2 cats I’m going to say neither. Dogs are just little kids that never grow up & cats are shedding, stinky-breathed snobs who shred furniture.

LOL Tell us how you really feel, girlfriend! So, If you knew then what you know now, you would have… and you wouldn’t have…

I certainly wouldn’t have told Anne Tyler that Donald Maass didn’t know what he was talking about. *burrow head in sand*  In my defense, I had NO idea who the dude was.

I would have joined a critique site and got feedback from my peers – learned from those who went before me. Checked out their scars & say to myself, ‘What can I do better to make this easier’.

Excellent advice, on both parts, though I would have loved to have seen his face at your opinion. 😉

Thanks so much for chatting with us today, Terri. Okay, maniacs, you can find Christmas Magic at



And for a chance at a FREE e-copy of Christmas Magic, visit Terri’s blog here.

I’m stoked to have Vonnie Davis, an incredible author and friend (and editor) embrace the mania today. If you haven’t checked out any of her work, you’re missing out. She writes heartwarming stories of love and romance, full of characters that stay in your heart and mind long after the last page is turned. Can you tell I’m a fan? Well, I am, and you will be too.

She’s here today to give us a taste of her latest release, MONA LISA’S ROOM. It hits the shelves today, and I can attest to the fact that she’s done it again. By the way, that is one kick ass cover, Vonnie. Crap, there I go again, yadda yadda yadda. I’ll shut up now. Take it away my friend. 😉

I am so thrilled Mac invited me to guest on her blog for my release day of MONA LISA’S ROOM.  This is my first romantic suspense, so I’m more than apprehensive regarding everyone’s response to the story. This is also book one of a trilogy, another first for me.

Calvin took me to Paris five years ago for a couple weeks. We had a grand time walking the streets and seeing the sights. Many years ago, long before we met, Calvin took a sabbatical from teaching and lived in the City of Light for a year, absorbing French culture and writing at sidewalk cafés. He wanted to show me all of his old haunts on the Left Bank. That the picture below is where he lived in ’68-69. His studio apartment was on the second floor.

We walked narrow, cobblestoned streets, or rues, late at night. I was a little nervous. Calvin, on the other hand, was right at home. There were narrow, dimly-lit cafés, doors hanging open with sweet smelling smoke wafting out onto the sidewalks. Jazz clubs were in basements, once catacombs under the city. All the women, it seemed, wore high heels, their feet tattooing a staccato beat on the sidewalk as they hurried by. All these sights, smells and sounds I catalogued, never thinking I’d write about them eventually. I was still existing in my “wanna-be-a-writer-someday” mode. Writing was still a far-off dream.

We were having lunch one day at a café along the Champs Elysées, or the “shanz” as the French call it. Calvin—ever the teacher—was telling me how this wide street was once “the” place to promenade, dressed in one’s finery to make a grand impression. Women were wrapped in furs and dripped with pearls and gems. He talked, too, of how the French cried as the Nazis goose-stepped up the Champs Elysées to the Arc de Triomphe.

Out of the corner of my eye, the suited waiter brought the man, seated at the tiny table next to us, a shrimp salad. The elegant gentleman asked for an additional plate for his chien, or dog, lying at his Italian-loafered feet. I should interject here that the French love their dogs and take them everywhere, including stores and restaurants. Once the patron had a white china plate for his dog, he forked several shrimp onto it and set it on the sidewalk for his pet’s enjoyment. My gaze slid to the white china plate I was eating off of, and I wondered how many dogs had used it before I.

Paris, there’s no place like it.

As we made our nightly treks through the narrow streets, some still bearing grooves from chariot wheels, we listened to ghosts whisper off ancient buildings of times and peoples gone by. Yet, even my romantic mind sometimes snagged on the dangers of the present—terrorists. What if…

What if an American came to Paris and somehow became entangled in a terrorist attack of some kind? Slowly my mind started churning and Mona Lisa’s Room took shape. As I’ve mentioned, this is book one of a trilogy. Each book has its own romantic couple, yet the same band of terrorists create havoc in all three books. Mona takes place in Paris and a seaside community along the Normandy coast. Book two, Rain is a Love Song, is set in Paris and Budapest. The final book, the one I’m still writing, takes place in Paris, Syria and Berlin and is titled Jazzbeat of Surrender.

Here’s the blurb written as an email from my heroine to her sister:


You won’t believe this email. I’m sitting in a French safe house, eating caviar and drinking champagne with a handsome government agent, Niko Reynard. He’s wearing nothing but silk pajama bottoms and mega doses of sex appeal. I’m in big trouble, little sister. He’s kissed me several times and given me a foot massage that nearly caused spontaneous combustion. I’m feeling strangely virginal compared to the sexual prowess this thirty-year-old man exudes.

When I came to Paris for a bit of adventure, I never imagined I’d foil a bombing attempt, karate-kick two men, and run from terrorists while wearing a new pair of stilettos. I’ve met a German musician, a gay poet from Australia, and the most delightful older French woman.

Don’t worry. I’m safe–the jury’s still out on yummy Niko, though. The more champagne I drink, the less reserved I feel. What an unforgettable fortieth birthday!


This excerpt takes place in the famed Shakespeare and Company, a narrow bookstore along the Siene, across the river from the Notre Dame Cathedral:

“Where are you from?” Niko detected an Aussie accent.

“Australia. Brisbane. I’m here to experience Paris, study art and do a bit of poetry writin’.” Eddie’s eyes were scanning the shelves. “Ah, here we go, mate.” He climbed a stepstool to reach what he was after. Turning, he leaned down to hand the two books to Niko.

Thanks. Sketches of Parisian Rooftops and Sketches of Gardens of Paris.” He quickly scanned through the pages. Aly would love these.

Eddie hailed a greeting at two men, dressed in suits, when they entered and ambled through the narrow store, quietly talking as they climbed the few wooden steps to the next section.

Niko briefly glanced at them before flipping the books over to check the prices. “I’ll take all three.” He waited for the total and paid his bill. “Wrap them please so my lady friend can’t see them. They’re a surprise.”

“Oh, lucky her. I just love…”

Suddenly, screams followed by loud thumping and books falling filled the bookstore. Niko sprinted in the direction of the high-pitched shrieking, gun in hand. He bounded up the steps and rounded the corner. “Aly! Aly! What the hell.”

He skidded to a halt. One of the well-dressed men he saw entering the store earlier was on the floor, books covering most of his body. His companion was staggering, holding his hands over his eye and screaming like a banshee as blood ran down his face.

In the corner stood a pale and trembling Aly, her frightened blue eyes dominated her face. “They…they grabbed me! Said they’d kill me if I resisted. I…I karate kicked them.” She swallowed, obviously trying to gain control. “Kung…kung-fooed the hell out of them, too. And…and…”—she pointed to the screaming man still on his feet—“I think I poked his eye out with one of my stilettos.”

Niko ran a hand down his face, keeping it over his mouth to hide the smile. What a piece of work. He wanted to laugh. He wanted to hug her. And damned if he didn’t want to shake the daylights out of her for stepping out of his sight. Hadn’t he told her to stay with him?

“You okay?” Niko’s gaze swept over her, looking for injuries. He fought the urge to pull her to him and embrace her until her trembling stopped. Frankly, if he were honest, his nerves weren’t the greatest right this moment, either. When he heard her scream earlier, cold fear did a free-fall straight through his system.

Some professional he was. While buying books, Aly had to defend herself. His gaze took in the shambles. By the looks of things, hell if she hadn’t done a damn fine job. “Answer me! Did one of these bastards hurt you? Are you okay?”

“I…I gotta pee.” She was shaking violently. No doubt going into shock. Today’s events finally took their toll.

“I’ll show her to the dunny,” came the Aussie accent behind him. “Ain’t no wonder she’s gotta use the loo. The woman beat the bullocks out of the blokes, she did. Gobsmacked ’em, I’ll wager. Shall I call the police or will you?”

“I am the police. Counterterrorism unit.”

Oh, I love that Nico, Vonnie. *shiver* So, where can we find him, I mean, where can people find Mona Lisa’s Room and you? 


THE WILD ROSE PRESS (digital) — http://bit.ly/MonaLisaDigital

THE WILD ROSE PRESS (paperback) — http://bit.ly/MonaLisasRoom

AMAZON (paperback) — http://amzn.to/QQZGyD

FIND ME ONLINE AT http://www.vonniedavis.com

BLOGGING AT http://www.vintagevonnie.blogspot.com


Welcome folks.

Have I got a treat for you today. Her Name is Liv Rancourt and she’s one of my sister authors over at Still Moments Publishing. For those of you who have never met Liv, she’s one of those talented, witty women whom you meet and think, hey, she’d make a really fun friend. I can attest to the fact that she does. She writes as she lives and today, she’s brought us a peek of her new short release, The Santa Drag! (Don’t you just love that title?) Okay, enough blah, blah, blah from me. Liv’s here to tell us about her awesome book. Take it away, my friend.

Thanks so much, Mac, for having me as a guest on your blog. I appreciate the chance to connect with your readers, because I’m so excited about The Santa Drag. It’s a short story that appeared last year in the anthology, Christmas Treats: Santa’s Nice List and now the fabulous Darlene at Still Moments Publishing has decided to re-release it as a stand-alone short story.


Now, the tag line for The Santa Drag goes like this: Things aren’t always what they seem, and this shopping mall Santa has secrets only her true love can reveal.

Pretty clever, right? Although you might be wondering how I came up with the idea for Mackenzie, the actress who takes a job playing Santa in the mall. See, Mack’s a little short on cash, and paying gigs are hard to find, so she does what she needs to do to pay the rent.  She straps on a fake belly, puts on a red suit and glues a beard to her face, and voila! She’s Santa.

And like Mack, I have a secret, too. I didn’t come up with the idea on my own. Last September I was sitting on the pool deck watching my son’s swim team practice and texting my sister. I sent her a message saying I needed an idea for a holiday-themed short story. It took a couple tries to make sure that we were talking about the same holiday, but once we were on the same page, she shared a brilliant idea: Have the girl play Santa.

Now why didn’t I think of that?

Well, I can’t take credit for the main idea, but I do think my contribution took the story to a pretty fun place. I mean, what can be worse than seeing the love of your life when you’re dressed up as Santa Claus? Honestly, I can’t think anything more awful than that. The story’s got a touch of Janet Evanovich and a helping of I Love Lucy, and it all ends up in a Merry Christmas place.

Check out the short excerpt below from the The Santa Drag, & visit me on my website, on Facebook, or on Twitter.



On a particularly busy Saturday, I was tired and thinking more about a double shot of espresso than I was about the pile of kids who wanted to sit in my lap. The weak winter sun was making its circle over the atrium where the Christmas Village was set up, and my roommate Shauna was buzzing by every so often to giggle at me from the sidelines. She was trying to get all of her Christmas shopping done in one day, which was a good trick for someone with as many fertile brothers and sisters as she had.

“Come sit on Santa’s lap.” Maya, the photographer and kid-wrangler, invited the next kid in line approach my golden throne. Well, it was fake gold, but the kids didn’t know that.

“No,” said a little girl with a stubborn crease between her brows. She was dressed in Seattle’s version of Christmas formal, a stiff, red velvet dress, likely made from organic fabric dyed with beets and rose hips. On her feet were two-toned leather MaryJanes that probably cost sixty-five dollars. At least the green corkscrew ribbons tied around her blond pigtails looked like they belonged on a child. I made myself as approachable as possible, getting down to her level and producing a big smile.

“Come on, Thula,” her mother said, tapping one French manicured nail on her cell phone. “Go sit up there with Santa so we can take your picture.” She sounded as if this was just one more thing to knock off the list.

“It’s okay, sweetie.” Maya put on her encouraging smile. Maya was a tiny thing, barely bigger than most of the kids we saw, with long dark hair, a tiny gold hoop pierced through one nostril, and bugged-out eyes that looked like they’d been molded out of chocolate. She was non-threatening as an adult could possibly be. The kid stared at her and bit down on her bottom lip. At least she wasn’t crying. Yet.

“You want to come tell Santa what to bring you for Christmas?” I kept my voice pitched down somewhere under my sternum. It helped that I had one of those raspy lady voices that earned me a permanent spot in the tenor section whenever I sang in choir.


Sometimes less is more when you’re dealing with preschoolers. We went back and forth for several minutes until  the kid went from biting her bottom lip to letting it pooch out and tremble. Never a good sign. Finally, after a ton of coaxing, she was more-or-less close to me,  squatting down on the other side of one of the big pretend presents that ringed my throne. That was good enough for her mom, and Maya snapped a picture.

When she was done, the little girl glared at me from behind the big, glossy red ribbon that topped the present. “Bring me a baby brother,” she bellowed and took off running..

Mom’s glare was meaner than the kid’s had been. Hey, it’s not like I made any promises.

The kid ran full tilt past the pseudo-Tyrolean houses that made the Village, and out through the crowds of shoppers. She stopped in the middle of an open space and cut loose, her sobs echoing around the smoky glass dome that covered us. We could hear her carrying on until she and her mom got swallowed up by the Ross store at the end of the north hallway. The whole place fell into a bit of a hush when she was gone, as  everyone exhaled in relief. This close to Christmas, none of us needed a crying child to ratchet up the stress level.

A young mother was next in line. She came into the Christmas Village and positioned a slightly damp baby on my lap, moving as if something hurt. The baby was so young that Mom still looked a little pregnant under her loose denim-blue shirt. Or maybe she was already pregnant with number two. I’m not so good with the principles of baby production. Well, I understand the basic concepts, but haven’t had that many opportunities to put them into practice.

The brief quiet was interrupted by a yodeling squeal that I recognized. I stared into the crowd until I caught Maya looking at me funny. I stuck on a smile as close to my normal, jolly-Santa shtick as I could get, and she settled back down behind her camera. The reason for my roommate Shauna’s squeal had me completely rattled. In the two or three beats I’d looked out from behind my wire-rimmed glasses as Mack-the-girl, I’d seen Shauna giving someone a big hug. A really handsome someone. Joe McBride. Joseph Timothy McBride. The actor. The real-life, got a soap opera gig and several commercials and you saw him in Scream 2 actor. The only guy I ever really loved.


Ooh, now she’s got a problem! Will Mack turn all Creepy-Kringle? Will Joe recognize her? What’s a Santa to do?  😉


The Santa Drag is available from Still Moments Publishing and Amazon.

    The hostesses of Author Roast & Toast are at it again. Join us for a Haunted Savannah celebration and book giveaway.

KiKi and I stared, neither of us breathing. KiKi finally whispered, “She doesn’t look nearly as good in the pink chiffon as you do.”

    “Maybe because she has blood in her hair and is rolled up in plastic like a hotdog in a bun.” I made the sign of the cross for disrespecting the dead.

~ Iced Chiffon by Duffy Brown

Author Roast & Toast

Do you believe in happily ever after? I do. Heck, of course I do. I’m a romance author, after all. I’m also a survivor and today I’m sharing why I believe in HEA’s, both in fiction and real life, at USAToday’s Happily Ever After blog.

So, what about you? Do you believe? I’d love to hear your take on the subject. You can find me here. I look forward to chatting with you.

Howdy folks. Talented author, Alana Lorens has embraced my mania today to stop by for a chat. She’s sharing a bit about herself and Second Chances, her  latest release. Welcome, Alana, I’m so pleased to have you.Second Chances sounds fascinating. I can’t wait to read it! What is the germ of the idea behind the story?  

Actually, it became the first line of the novel—the concept of a “pink slip” as a notification that someone had lost their job. Inessa finds out she’s been laid off by a letter on pink paper—paper she knows isn’t standard in her office. So she knows it’s personal. That hurts.

Ugh! An issue all too familiar these days. Well, except for the personal part. What is the first book you remember loving?

A WRINKLE IN TIME by Madeleine L’Engle—talk about opening one’s imagination!!

Hmm. How did I miss that one? Looks like I need to make a trip to the library with my granddaughter. Where is the oddest place you’ve ever pulled out a book?

Halfway across the Seven-Mile Bridge in the Florida Keys. The turquoise-ocean panoramas on both sides are incredible, but I have a weird phobia about bridges. So I always had a book handy to bury my face in so I didn’t freak out.

LOL Freak out control? One of the many benefits of being a voracious reader, I’d say. Besides a critiquing partner, is there someone you let read your ms before submitting?

My husband reads everything I write. He’s not particularly fond of the romances—prefers the sci-fi—but he has been an omnivorous reader since he was very young, and has a really good sense of what flows, what doesn’t, what questions have not been properly answered, etc. And he’s a great resource. I can say to him, “Honey, if I’m in the garage and I want to start a fire that will burn down half of it with just what’s in there, what tools do I need?” He just answers me and never bats an eye. Of course I’ve never actually burned down the garage. Yet.

Good thing he understands your writer’s imagination. Those kinds of questions would make a lot of men nervous. 😉 Since first becoming published, what was the biggest ‘Woot’ moment you experienced?

When I connected with an editor who loved my YA post-apocalyptic story, the real book of my heart, that had been turned down over 100 times…. And she said “This really needs to be a trilogy. Do you think you can expand it?” I’d really given up on it ever seeing publication, and I thought my heart would stop. Next year, the first book will be released and it will be amazing.

Awesome! Don’t you love when perseverance toward a dream pays off? What is one thing your readers would be surprised to learn about you?

That I’m on my third family. My first family, I have two daughters. My second, I have one daughter, and two stepdaughters with whom I’m very close.  My current husband and I married twelve years ago, and I adopted his children, two boys and a girl, (the youngest was only six months old at the time!) and all of them are on the autism spectrum. It’s been a real education.

Wow, I’ll bet it has! What did you find most surprising when you were first published?

Silly me, I thought writing the book was the hard part!! Now I know with all the post-editing production work and the promotion, the energy associated with each book has to continue for months longer. When you’re also trying to carry energy along for other projects at the same time, it wears very thin.

I hear you, sister! Okay, put some words in my mouth. Give us a question I didn’t ask, and the answer too, of course.

If you always put something of yourself into each of your characters, how come you always feel so dull?

Right? I mean characters are fascinating and always finding bright and clever ways to get out of trouble, and meeting interesting people…and I just write books and slog away at the day job. Huh.

For example, Inessa Regan, the heroine of SECOND CHANCES. She’s a family law attorney, like me. She’s on the upper side of 40, and a little on the curvy side, like me. She even meets a younger man and falls in love, like me. But when I write her, she has the will power to stick to her diet and exercise plan (well, except for that whole pint of Ben and Jerry’s in chapter six)—NOT like me. *sigh*  Those people we create, even if they have characteristics in common with us, we can always make them a little more perfect, because they exist on paper. The real world is a little harder. And there’s a LOT more ice cream out here.

LOL I hear you there. Willpower and perfection are a lot easier on paper than they are in the flesh. So tell us where we can find you, and I’d love a tease of Second Chances.

CONVICTION OF THE HEART (release date June 8, 2012)
And SECOND CHANCES (release date July 2012)
The first and Second books of the Pittsburgh Lady Lawyer Series!
Come by the following blogs or live booksignings and leave a comment to be entered in a drawing—at the end of the tour, I’ll be giving away one ebook copy of each book and one paperback copy of each book—Four lucky winners! Check out all the websites at http://alanalorens.com


Inessa Regan, a 10-year associate at a Pittsburgh law firm, gets a pink slip when the economy tanks. Insecure, her pride wounded, she flounders helplessly until she meets Kurtis Lowdon, a man 15 years younger than she, an Iraq War veteran with cancer.  He helps her take the first steps back from the pit of despair after she loses everything that defines her.

First as her client, then as her landlord, then as her partner, Kurt shows her the power of  believing in oneself. Their journey is tainted with secrets from Kurt’s own past, as well as some of the horrors of war that have followed Kurt and his friends home from overseas. When his cancer returns, she must take control of her own life and fight to survive.   Can the lessons he’s taught her keep her strong enough to survive? How much will she risk to save him?

Book trailer: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CEMtSxd6FQQ


Inessa had visited the Pittsburgh IKEA store half a dozen times before, addicted to the simple, classic furniture designs and colorful décor items, but none of those experiences had ever been like this. Perhaps the difference was that Kurt was a man, maybe it was the purpose of the visit, but negotiating the departments along the store’s dictated path became an adventure different from any she’d had with a girlfriend.
The things that attracted Kurt’s attention!
Forget the Swedish meatballs. He raved about a cushy pillow in shades of spring green and chocolate. He bought new towels in bright red and orange. Every gadget fascinated him, and he dug a sample out of the bins to test each one. When they passed one bedroom setup, the poufy beige-and-green down comforter was softly rumpled, as if the owner had just climbed out seconds before.
“That looks comfortable.” he exclaimed, and he scrambled right in.
“Kurt!” She looked around, mortified. Several young couples in madras Dockers and khakis stopped to stare; some smiled.
“What? This is a display bed. You’re supposed to try it out. Come on.” He held up the covers for her to join him. The mischievous expression on his face broke her up, embarrassed as she was.
“I don’t think so. You rest. I’ll be looking at office fixtures.”
“Spoilsport. No one cares if you romp in the bedroom department at IKEA. Look, now everyone else is, too.”
He gestured at several displays around them as other customers climbed onto neighboring beds, laughing and teasing each other. When she still held back, he affected a pout and pushed himself out, smoothing the bedspread.
“All right. Business first. Let’s go.”
Over the next couple of hours among the seeming miles of displays, he thoughtfully helped her select what she needed—a desk, comfortable chairs for her consulting clients, bookshelves for her legal research materials—but he also remained playful. He experimented with every one of the wheeled desk chairs, spinning them around until he found the one with the least traction.
“Try this one. It’s better than the merry-go-round at Kennywood.”

Buy link: Amazon

What do you get when the daughter of Wall Street’s most notorious stock swindler meets a hot assistant district attorney with political ambitions? Well, if you throw in a psychotic Great Dane you get THAT DATING THING, a lighthearted romance by Mackenzie Crowne.

My name is Rylee Pierce, the heroine of THAT DATING THING. I’m chatting with the folks over at the World Literary Cafe about greed, hyperactive dogs, and a hunky lawyer with blue-sin eyes. Lets talk. What would you like to know?

Oh, and did I mention Mac is giving away one free copy of my story?

Join us at the World Literary Cafe.


Where else would I set my lighthearted romance in the midst of Wall Street greed but the Big Apple? THAT DATING THING has hit the virtual bookshelves and with the help of the ladies over at Author Roast and Toast, I’m celebrating with a Times Square Block Party! Along with some local culinary favorites, potent adult beverages, and fun, there is a free e-copy of THAT DATING THING up for grabs.

So, put on your party clothes and click on the banner to join the fun.

See you there!