Thank you so very much for hosting me today. It’s always a pleasure to have a chance to chat with bloggers and their readers. PORTRAIT OF A CONSPIRACY: Da Vinci’s Disciples has its historical basis rooted firmly in truth…one of the greatest conspiracies of the 15th century, a conspiracy that reached all the way to the Vatican. An assassination plot history now calls the Pazzi Conspiracy. With such a firm historical foundation, it allowed me to immerse myself fully in the city of Florence, as it was in 1478. And thanks to the many resources, both paper and virtual, the details of the setting found their way onto my page. It even allowed me to create a map, something I’ve always wanted to do. Today, I’d like to share some of those remarkable architectural delights with you. We must start where the story starts, where the assassination takes place: in Brunelleschi’s Duomo. In truth the Gothic style basilica, part of the complex of Cattedrale di Santa Maria del Fiore (Saint Mary of the Flowers Cathedral), was originally designed by Arnolfo di Cambio. Built on the ruins of the 7th century Santa Raparata Church, construction on the new structure began in…

ACCIDENTALLY COMPROMISING THE DUKE by Stacy Reid Amazon Barnes & Noble iTunes Kobo England, 1817. Miss Adeline Hays is out of options. Determined to escape marriage to a repugnant earl, Adel plans to deliberately allow herself to be caught in a compromising position at a house party with the much kinder man she’d hoped to marry. Instead, Adeline accidentally enters the wrong chamber and tumbles into the bed of the mad duke. Edmond Rochester, the duke of Wolverton, is seeking a wife to care for his two daughters. A young lady of sensibilities, accomplishment, and most importantly, one who he is not attracted to—a complete opposite of the bewitching beauty who traps him into marriage. But despite the lust he feels for his new duchess, Edmond is resolved to never allow them intimacy, refusing to ever again suffer the tormenting loss of a loved one. THE MILLIONAIRE’S GAMBLE by Sarah Ballance Amazon iTunes Barnes & Noble Kobo Wealth has a price. Everyone wants something from you. For one woman, that something was my DNA. One minute, she was kissing me like we were going to strip it down and go at it. And the next, she was ripping out my…

I’m a middle child. You know the one, not the oldest, and not the baby, who just kind of slides in there someplace. I wasn’t good at sports in an athletic family. I got bored in school so didn’t bring home the best grades, though my younger brother and I were both equally intelligent. I loved to sit and read. Which made me easy to pass over. Or overlook. I’ve been told many times – mostly by my mother – that a part of me is in every book I write. She says she always, every single time (and she reads every single book) she knows what’s going to happen because she knows what prompted the circumstance. There was a sandwich episode once, she knew the jelly was going to plop out because of a paper I had written in college. I don’t know that I agree with her about truth from life in every book. Partially because unless she points it out, I don’t see it there. But in HIS FIRST CHOICE…I think I see where I come in. Kacey, my heroine, isn’t the middle child. As a matter of fact, she was born first. But she seems to…

My latest novel, THE PHOTOGRAPHER’S TRUTH, takes place in Paris. The book traces the lives of Ian Baines, a Silicon Valley software engineer and Luca Sparks, a former fashion photographer. Their lives are turned upside down as they fall in love. The crux of the story is that love is not always what we want it to be – it’s messy and inconvenient, but it’s always beautiful and exciting. I don’t want to give away too much about the story, but I thought it might be a lot of fun to share some of the more romantic activities I discovered while doing my research in Paris. Just in case you’re over there with a loved one – here are a few “off the beaten path” activities that capture the flavor of the City of Light. Grab a coffee or a glass of wine in Montmartre – One of my favorite parts of town is the little village of Montmartre. It’s nothing like the rest of the city – it feels almost Mediterranean. I got to spend some time here while researching The Photographer’s Truth, climbing up the steep steps and tiny alleys where artists and writers from the last century…

We had a plan. A really great plan. But, you know what they say: humans plan, God laughs… So, hiking is our thing, Mike and I. He has a good idea of the vistas and sunsets he wants us to experience here in the US southwest. Neither of us are natives but Mike seems to have taken to the Nevada wilds better than I so I tend to let him lead the way. Most people would say the desert isn’t beautiful but it takes my breath away. I love the stark landscape that gently gives way to bristlecone pine trees and snow-capped mountain peaks. It’s a hundred and ten degrees in Las Vegas and a cool 72 in the mountain. I love our adventures together but often my challenge is dealing with my paralyzing fear of heights. Acrophobia. I don’t like being high enough that the fall could kill me. How is that a phobia and not just a reasonable way to live? In any case, Mike has the patience of a saint sometimes, especially when it strikes me to the point of being immobile. On this trip, though, there was another challenge. Let’s call it the Hammock Challenge. Here…

“Hello, Corinne,” he said. “It’s been a long time.” For a moment he was sure she was going to tell him to get bent, then stalk off. Maybe, he thought suddenly, terribly, unwillingly, maybe she’d slap his face first. He didn’t take a step back, though he wanted to. Corinne didn’t leave, and she didn’t slap him. To his surprise, she moved to embrace him, a second or so only, the press of her cheek on his. He breathed her in, blinking at the brief caress of her hair on his face before there was space and distance between them again. His cock was already almost fully hard. “Reese, my God,” she said. “How are you? What a wonderful surprise.” A second later she was in his arms again, like she couldn’t stop herself from hugging him, and all he wanted to do was pull her closer and never let her go. Instead, Reese took her by the upper arms and pushed her carefully but firmly a step or two away from him. It was impossible to miss the way her mouth turned down, though she smoothed her expression immediately. They stared at each other in an endless silence. “They…

High in one of the willow trees that line the bank of our lake, the setting sun highlights the red head of a red-bellied woodpecker. I watch as he pecks and hops his way up the tree into the canopy above until I can no longer see him. And my storybook mind wonders where he is going in his white apron, black and white tux, and his bright red top hat. Our wee cottage sits on the banks of a small man-made lake in the flint hills of Kansas. While the houses across the way sit high above the water, we have only to walk out our back door and traverse the required 100 feet span between our deck to the swing which sits along our seawall. We woke this morning to stormy skies, and the water looked dark and angry. Wind whistled through the timber to the east of us and drove waves high enough to make the resident geese bob like corks as they made their morning visit to our cove. Tonight, as I write this, the face of the lake is stoic, almost petulant, and only an occasional twist of the heart-shaped cottonwood leaves betray what otherwise…

Last month, I had some dental work done in the left half of my mouth. Going to the dentist is never a picnic in the park, in fact, it usually makes me think I am going to die. I managed to avoid thinking about it until I was actually sitting in the chair. Then, I suddenly remembered why I used to drink, but by then it was too late. All I could do was lie back and think of England. My dentist, Dr. Nelson, is such a nice, sweet woman. She makes me wear safety goggles. So, I’m in the chair, goggles on, and sweet Dr. Nelson starts by shooting Novocain into my gums. Novocain makes me nervous: I am a nurse, and I know about local anesthetic toxicity, and I am sure it’s going to happen to me. I feel the little pinch….I wait for it…THERE! My heart is racing! I know the next step will be a weird metallic taste; my ears will ring; I will flush all over, and then the end will come. But none of that happens. My heart rate slows to normal. Apparently it was just nerves: a bullet narrowly dodged. Dr. Nelson and…

About Marie Sexton Marie Sexton lives in Colorado. She’s a fan of just about anything that involves muscular young men piling on top of each other. In particular, she loves the Denver Broncos and enjoys going to the games with her husband. Her imaginary friends often tag along. Marie has one daughter, two cats, and one dog, all of whom seem bent on destroying what remains of her sanity. She loves them anyway.  WEBSITE | GOODREADS | Newsletter Signup | Amazon Author Page Abaddon spent his next few days in the office, catching up on paperwork. Baphomet harangued him constantly, insisting he should be out reaping souls. He had a point, but pedestrian souls had never appealed to Abaddon. And now, having tasted Seth’s sweetness, he couldn’t stand the thought of settling for less. Besides, once he bagged Seth, he’d be set. Why waste his time on a dozen pro athletes when Seth alone would fill his quota and then some? To that end, Abaddon attended the revival every single evening. Revivals had always amused him, and the Rainbow Revival was no exception. Zed scowled at him constantly, and each and every night, the Rainbow Revival members seemed to keep…

Naomi came into the hall, flushed and pleased with herself. “Ready?” Moments later, after brief introductions to the two women who had arrived, they were piling into Caleb’s SUV. From the backseat, Erin found herself glancing back to the house, hoping against hope she didn’t catch sight of Nathan again. The man made her feel uneasy and anxious. They’d barely shared a glance, but he’d looked at her like he knew something nobody else did. She shuddered at the thought, remembering Naomi had told her that Tynan was his business partner, and they were security consultants. That meant he would know how to access official files, documents, people’s history. At Naomi’s instruction beside her, Erin clipped on her seat belt and vowed to keep a very low profile where Nathan Quinn was concerned. BEAST UNTAMED by Faye Avalon Beasts of Bodmin Moor To guard his woman, he must claim his mate. Beasts of Bodmin Moor, Book 3 Ex-special forces operative Nathan Quinn enjoys women, but he just doesn’t trust them. Thanks to a mother who abandoned him, he prefers no-strings relationships, and has no intention of ever marrying or mating with a fellow shifter. He focuses his energy on building…