It’s out! It’s finally out! Bailey & Quinn’s adventures continue in Burn, Baby, Burn: a Magical Romantic Comedy (with a body count.)
Grab your copy now! You know you want it. It has shenanigans and napalm.
You know you want it.
Be a star! A purple star, like the one on this little ad! Be a sttaaarr! Also, read today.
When the book does well, I get extra treats! This is evidenced by the four huge tubs of temptations the human ordered this week! They arrived yesterday.
We have to finish our current tub, but she got us four flavors! We’re loved! We’re loved!
She also got me new balls! But she isn’t letting me have them yet. Apparently, it’s her birthday on Thursday and not mine, so I have to wait to receive my new balls until my birthday, which is in mid June. But I saw them! I’m getting ten new balls for my birthday!
And, to help convince you that you really want to get this book, here is a new snippet for your enjoyment!
The universe hated me. A light dusting of snow ensured the roads would be hell by the time we escaped New York. I barely eased Quinn’s convertible to a halt before Perkette slid into the vehicle, wrinkling her nose. Since she knew I wouldn’t even think about putting the vehicle into gear until she buckled up, she grabbed her seatbelt and clipped it into place.
“This officially sucks,” she announced.
“Good thing we’re headed to Vegas, then. Does Vegas ever get cold?” I hoped not. I already shivered, and I had the heat in the convertible blasting.
“Hell if I know. Think you can handle some snow as a unicorn?”
“Will it kill me? No. Will I kill you for making me? Very probably. Someone better be dying before I deal with snow as a unicorn.”
The Furred & Finned Management hopes you enjoyed the little teaser! For those who have already gotten Burn, Baby, Burn, thank you! You rock and are made of awesome.
As the female likes to say, Happy Reading, folks!
It’s official. The female is a filthy liar. She signed a contract this week to have Storm Called turned into an audiobook. It should be produced and releasing later this year. But, it’s getting done despite her saying hell no.
She has also signed a contract for Burn, Baby, Burn, Blending In, and Hypnos. She figured if she’s going to go in, she may as well go all in and see what happens. Maybe good things?
Audiobooks, dear human, are vexing to the female and wrought with peril.
But she’s doing them.
Last but not Leashed is the next audiobook project scheduled to release, and it should be within a month. We’ll be upfront about this, humans: there were issues with this one. As it’s unprofessional to go into the nature of the issues, we’re just going to leave it at that and hope for the best.
We have a new male narrator for the Magical Romantic Comedy (with a body count) series, and we hope this makes everything move forward better in the future.
Onto the teaser! This is from Burn, Baby, Burn, which releases next week. We think all of the humans should preorder, as when the female celebrates, we get extra love and a lot of treats. We like treats, so we need to make sure she celebrates extra next week.
We demand treats, humans.
My phone beeped, and I glanced at the device. While Bailey often messaged me to reassure herself, she usually waited longer than ten minutes. Our morning routine hadn’t changed; she’d crawled out of bed with the same general liveliness of a half-dead slug while I’d kept a close eye on her until she finished her shower. Rewarding her with kisses for restoring her base ability to function had earned me a hefty dose of her contentment.
All in all, she’d been more energetic than usual.
“You may as well pull over, Sam. I know that’s Bailey’s text tone. If you don’t, you’ll fret.”
Some days, partnering with Perkins gave me a headache. “Why am I driving you to work again?”
“Tiffany wanted to move to Queens, I don’t have a cruiser today, and she wanted the car. As you’re so compassionate—and you didn’t want me to be late getting to work—you agreed to drive me in. Just pull over before she calls—or decides to take the convertible for a joy ride and tail you today.”
She would. She’d done it twice, and it amazed me that my car had survived. The third time, I’d endured her at her worst, running around a late fall Manhattan on four hooves, determined to make certain I stayed out of trouble. Cindercorns didn’t handle cold weather well, and she’d about scared the life out of me after reversing back to human. It had taken hours for her to warm back up, and she’d suffered from symptoms of hypothermia for several days before recovering.
Her ability to attract catastrophe sent me to work early to do a sweep of the neighborhood. I never found any trouble, but I felt better for putting in the effort. Once I checked to make certain I couldn’t see the house, I pulled into someone’s driveway to check my phone.
A ten item wish list waited for me, and every request puzzled me. “I love my wife, but she’s a little weird sometimes, Perkins.”
~ Wasn’t that little tidbit fun? But, I do think Quinn is deserving of an understatement of the year award. Sometimes is not the word I would have used there, Mr. Quinn.
‘All of the time’ or ‘she’s breathing, so she’s weird’ would work. Also, we of the Furred & Finned Management fully believe Quinn needs to check the dictionary for the meaning of the world ‘little.’
As for other news, the female is diving into the cave of doom and destruction to work on Bonds.
She will also be scheming how to make the fun little Vampire book do its thing.
Last but not least, the Furred & Finned Management would like to take a moment to inform you the world did not end, books did not magically sell in vast quantities overnight, and that life seems exactly as she left it yesterday despite USA Today listing.
(We knew this would happen. We are just confirming for the curious out there.)
Have a great day, humans! We must now force the human to do some actual work and write books. If she doesn’t, we’d have to fire her, and that would be a bad thing.
P.S.: Ignore any of our typos. According to the female, it’s ‘too early in the morning to do jack shit.’ To which we replied, “Shut up and go to work.”
Thank you so much, readers! We are absolutely thrilled. This means we get treats!
Also, good job, human! Now, feed us our treats like we’re owed. No, I don’t care that you already gave us some treats today. We want more.
The female is very tired right now, and she’s used most of her energy refreshing USA Today’s website hoping and wishing and holding her breath… but hooray! Squee!
Tomorrow, life will go back to mostly normal. Mostly. I mean, this is the female we’re talking about here. She’s not really all that normal to begin with.
As she has leftover budget, and the male has ordered she use her budget (because it was given to her for a reason,) she is going to be trying to learn ads on bookbub this week and next week. She’s not expecting much of anything, truth be told, but it’ll be a good learning experience!
As she can’t, for the life of her, figure out how to make Bookbub ads work in her favor, she hired Melissa Storm to help teach her the ropes. She’s using a course Melissa wrote along with some help directly from Melissa due to being unable to actually watch the videos. Most people will be able to watch the videos and won’t need the extra help, but the female is slightly defective and has a very hard time with videos.
But, that said, the written material the female can use has been educative, and she’s starting to learn stuff. We’ll report back later with how it goes.
We, honestly, are expecting an unmitigated disaster, as that’s what usually happens when the female is learning something new.
Note: the female has a special hire arrangement with Melissa specifically because of her visual input issues, so the course experience will be different from you–the female is very sad she can’t do the videos very well. View it as having to compensate for a handicap. (Which it basically is, of the anxiety sort.)
Anyway, moving on!
Happy reading, humans, and thank you so much for your support. It means a lot to us!!
We’ve had requests to know more about how you can help with the human’s sale efforts.
As such, we’re taking a quick moment to write this note for you with how you can help!
On your social media venue of choice, post about the sale.
Here are the links:
Tell them the sale ends soon (End of day Sunday, May 5, 2019.)
The bundle is a value of $27.93 for $0.99.
You can also say the cute kitties would really appreciate it.
Thank you, humans!
Please enjoy this picture of me devouring the female’s flesh. She’s delicious.
Thank you so much for bearing with us this week. We love you. As of sometime this after, the human had counted 5,100 US sales and change from her ad efforts this week.
As of now, all ads have been turned off. Whatever happens happens. She’s tired. (We are, too. It’s hard managing a human who is hard at work.)
So, what’s next?
Burn, Baby, Burn releases May 14. If you haven’t preordered, please do so–or buy opening week. Right now, she has approximately 2,000 preorders. That’s not enough to list, but she’s over the moon because 2,000 sales is what she hopes for at the end of opening week for it to count as a success in her eyes.
She’s already hit that number! Glorious day!
Enjoy this pretty picture of a unicorn the human licensed to represent Bailey. With a little less fire than expected, but it’s still a super pretty unicorn.
This is from Chapter One, and we hope it entices you into clicking the preorder button. As I’m a thieving cat, you’ll just have to hope that I stole from the right file and didn’t just send you rough draft material. I’m a cat. I do things like that because it entertains me. I also spend an obscene amount of time perfectly arranging my fur because I’m just that fabulous.
Approximately four months following the events of Playing with Fire…
I loved Quinn, but if I didn’t get a full night of sleep soon, someone would die. I gave it even odds on which one of us would bite the bullet. I’d either expire from his drive to prove he was the perfect man, or I’d snap, pop a few transformatives, and shove my horn so far up his ass it would take a surgeon to separate us.
Come hell or high water, I’d enjoy a full eight hours of sleep. No, I’d enjoy twelve, not my current three to four. Not only would I enjoy my rest, I’d have a great time securing it, too.
Quinn loved the chase. It made him feel important, feeding his ego and adding extra spring in his step. The smug incubus-in-disguise didn’t need any more damned spring in his step. He needed to be sedated, tucked into bed, and used as a quiet but sexy pillow.
Damn it. That was the entire issue.
Neither one of us had an off switch, and Quinn viewed it as his personal mission in life to fill my every craving. The months since our haphazard marriage had changed nothing.
When he walked into the room, my panties spontaneously combusted.
I checked out the bedroom window to make certain he’d taken his cruiser to work. He had.
The snow would screw with my plans for a while, but I’d make do. I wouldn’t use my stash of transformatives until I reached somewhere a lot warmer and dryer. I’d eliminate Las Vegas from my bucket list first. If my tall, dark, and handsome failed to find me there, I’d head to California.
All I needed to do was confirm my partner-in-crime still wanted to haul ass across the United States. Using the day-old phone I’d purchased with cash, I called Tiffany.
She answered on the second ring. “Your man’s cruising your block, and he’s got mine in the car with him. If we want to bust out of this joint sometime today, you need to encourage them to leave. Why does he insist on prowling your block for twenty minutes every damned morning?”
“The same reason there are transformatives stashed in every room in the house, Perkette. It’s also the same reason he ripped out a perfectly good fireplace and installed a new one. He’s insane.”
“Bailey, we’ve talked about this before. He’s not insane. He loves you. Now, go text him on your other phone and give him the list of things we picked for clues. After you’re done, we’ll wait for your chief to pull over, read your message, and head to work. If all goes to plan, he’ll be distracted by your requests and fail to notice anything amiss.”
However much it pained me to admit it, Tiffany was right. Whenever I asked for anything, Quinn went overboard catering to me. I sighed. “He’s worse than a puppy.”
“It’s so difficult handling a loving man. Mine needs some excitement in his life, too. That’s what we’re doing. We’re giving them some excitement for Christmas.”
“Or signing up for a divorce.”
“The cretins need the time off anyway. If it takes them two weeks to find us, they obviously need to brush up on their detective skills. Have you sent him the list yet?”
“Working on it, working on it,” I muttered, pulling up the note I’d meticulously typed out, copying it to a text message. “He’s going to think I’ve lost my mind. Who asks for an indoor rose plant, not for eating? I had to specify, Perkette. If I don’t, he gets too much. Last time, he bought three dozen roses, and he made certain they were food quality.”
“You specified the color, right? That’s important.”
“Yes, yes. I specified eleven orange roses, not for eating, and I indicated I’d like to plant them outside eventually. I also asked for a single red rose, too. Also not for eating.”
“You have to admit you have issues with his rose bushes, Bailey.”
“I have issues, period.”
I sighed. “Do you think he’ll figure it out?”
“Maybe your man will need help, but mine is a mad scientist freak with a puzzle fetish. They’ll be fine. Just make sure you’re ready to roll and read from the script if he calls you on the house line.”
I texted that I had work to do and would have my phone off for a while before I killed the device and tossed it under the couch for safekeeping. “I told him I had work.”
His inability to reach me would drive him home right on time, which would begin the hunt, as he’d begin searching for me within five minutes of discovering I’d given him the slip.
I hoped he liked the effort I’d put into wrapping his first clue, an old Elvis vinyl and a record player for his enjoyment.
“Phone is off. I’m about to stage the box. Did Perky leave your car in the garage this morning?”
“I already parked it in the neighbor’s garage and gave her the keys. Your man’s baby will be safe. Don’t forget the card or your bag.”
“And definitely don’t forget the saddle, bridle, or transformatives.”
“I won’t. Have they left yet?”
“No, but Mr. Police Chief just pulled into a driveway around the corner from your house. If he heads to work, we’ll know he’s taken the bait.”
How had I let Perkette talk me into her special brand of insanity?
Oh, right. I missed sleep.
We hope you have enjoyed the sample!
Now, onto the next thing.
Bonds, a Royal States Novel, is coming in July! Hooray! You can preorder it here.
The human is having a great time with this, and gets to climb into the saddle starting Monday for a full-time ride on this delicious book!
This is completely unedited drivel. Please ignore the typos, grammar oddities, and all uses of her creative license.
She’s absolutely not sorry.
Note: the author is very sorry that she’s sorta screwing with the Royal States timeline. Cold Flame, Runaway, and a few other books actually happen at around / before / slightly after Bonds in the timeline, but the human will be very careful to avoid spoiling anything from those titles.
The only potential ‘spoil’ for those stories is the name and number of the Rabbits of Montana’s children.
Shh, don’t tell them I said that. They might go after the human next.
We hope you enjoy the insanity.
One day, I might understand why I enjoyed jumping out of helicopters during squalls. I checked my harness for the third time since strapping in. As soon as I was a safe distance above the water, I’d release my line and go for a swim. As it so often happened, it was too dangerous to launch a diver from the nearby rescue ship waiting to pick up the crew of the oil tanker that had run aground on rocks off the French coast. The sheen of oil on the waves below complicated the already complicated rescue.
My first job would be to plug the leaks and keep the tanker from polluting even more of the water. Once I had the holes plugged, I’d board and organize the crew until they could be safely retrieved from the floundering ship.
The ship listed enough she’d go under in time; the rocks, a well-charted menace the captain should’ve avoided in the first place, kept them afloat. With each wave threatening to tear the monster ship from its haphazard perch, I wouldn’t have much time to work.
I hated when my magic became the first and last defense during a dangerous rescue. The storm turned the afternoon dangerously dark, and it wouldn’t be long until I was forced to use my magic to illuminate our rescue efforts.
I wanted to give the captain a piece of my mind for endangering the crew and the rescue team stuck bailing their irresponsible asses out.
I eyed the water again while waiting for the pilot to get the helicopter into position, close enough to the ship I’d be able to work my magic, far enough from the ship a rogue wave wouldn’t smash me into the hull. Any other dive, I would have worn flippers into the water to make swimming easier, but if I needed to board the ship, they’d get in the way.
I missed my flippers already.
With so much crude in the water already, without my magic protecting me, me and my gear would be in serious trouble. Crude oil could be volatile in many ways, depending on the type of crude. I wouldn’t know if I dealt with thicker, tar-like sludge or a lighter gas until I got into the water.
To add to the fun, a single spark could ruin my day—and light the nearby ocean on fire.
I’d gotten that lecture a few times already. Under normal working operations, fire risks on a tanker were low, but once oxygen in the air could mix with the crude’s fumes, things could go wrong in a hurry.
“I’m in position. Ready, Jack?” the pilot, Louis, asked, his French accent so thick I struggled to understand him. My French was so bad everyone on the team took pity on me, using English when they needed me for something.
The rest of the time, I pretended I understood what the hell they were saying. Learning more languages was on my to-do list, but every time I settled in to learn something, someone needed me to jump out of a helicopter to rescue a floundering vessel.
Most of the time, I loved my job. I loved knowing I saved lives. I even loved flinging myself out of various aircraft.
Today, however, I wanted a new job. No one sane wanted to enter oil-polluted waters with monstrous white-capped waves ready to pound me into a smear against the hull of the dying ship.
Then again, if I quit my job as a search and rescue diver, I’d have to return to the Royal States of America, which was on the top of my ‘over my dead body’ list.
It might really be over my dead body if I didn’t do everything just right when I entered the water.
I checked my mask again, as if I lost it, I wouldn’t be able to communicate with the helicopter and the rest of the rescue team. Once certain I wouldn’t lose it along with my oxygen tank, I replied, “Oui.”
My limited French usually made the team laugh. Beyond a basic yes, I could cuss like a champ and ask where the bathroom was. After trying to order a drink and getting a fish instead, I’d given up pretending I had any idea what I was doing.
A rapid conversation conducted in French filled my ears, but I’d been on enough dives with the team to know the pilot was giving the basic instructions to the rest of the team, who’d handle the wench and be prepared for when I released the line and went into the water.
The first time I’d released my line and dove into stormy seas with a small oxygen tank, the entire crew had about shit their pants until they remembered I used a blend of illumination and waveweaving magic. Unless knocked unconscious, my chances of drowning was slim to none. Add in my minor airweaving talent, which allowed me to refresh my oxygen tank without needing to surface, and I made the perfect rescue diver.
No one needed to know I wasn’t actually a borderline elite. Borderline elite put me one step below the elite class, and I’d made certain to leave the Royal States before I could be evaluated again.
Being above average worked well for me.
My real rank, elite class or better, would’ve dumped me directly into a political nightmare. Before I could get sucked into worrying about what would happen if I had to return to the Royal States, the rest of the team finished their final checks and gave the okay for me to slide out of the helicopter.
I descended until I was only a few feet from the crashing waves. After eyeing the roll of the waves, I waved to indicate I was ready, released my line, and plunged in the water.
More French, probably confirming I was in the water, blasted into my ears. I ignored the chatter and submerged, swimming for the ship. In the eyes of most, my illumination talent wasn’t worth writing home about. Unlike the truly powerful illuminators, I couldn’t become a living lighthouse capable of guiding ships safely to harbor.
I could, however, flood the ocean with a gentle light, which worked well for my needs. My magic exposed a gaping hole in the vessel.
“The breach in the hull is at least ten meters long, starboard stern,” I reported before approaching, eyeing the ship until I found a suitable handhold. “There’s enough crude leaking out I need to get it back in the ship before this shit hits shore.”
We’d gotten lucky; the waves were mostly keeping the oil near the ship, but it would be a matter of time before the rocks and the ship itself no longer protected the rest of the ocean from the mess. I closed my eyes so I could concentrate, getting a feel for the churning water and the crude polluting it.
If we got lucky, it’d be a lighter gas, which would evaporate quickly and do minimal damage to the environment. Light gasses and oils registered as an oily warmth feathering over my skin, expressing its more volatile nature.
The cold, sticky sensation clinging to me promised I had a heavier, toxic crude on my hands, and I’d be pushed to the limits of my skill dealing with it. Worse, it was a mixed blend, and at first glance, it hadn’t been blended well. On second though, I suspected the tanker carried at least two crude batches, one possibly partially refined. It was also possible it was just one of those batches of oil that couldn’t quite decide if it was a heavy or a light crude. That left me with one viable candidate for the origin of the oil: OPEC liked trying to control the market, and its suppliers, mostly from the Middle East, would often flood the market with their crude if the prices got out of hand to make certain demand didn’t die out due to price increases.
It just wouldn’t do if safer, cleaner alternatives were pursued due to economic factors.
“Likely an OPEC Basket mixed shipment,” I finally reported. “It’s a huge spill, so I’m going to get as much of it back in the tanker as possible and plug the hole. Flag the wreck as critical. This shit is toxic.”
“It’s toxic. It’s heavy enough if I don’t get this back into the tanker where it belongs, say goodbye to France’s nice beaches for a few years.”
A chorus of French curses blasted my ears, and once they started chattering to each other, likely cursing the Middle Eastern oil trade, I began the tedious and exhausting process of pulling the crude oil back to the ship where it belonged. At the same time, I began encasing the tanker’s hull and the rock it perched on in ice.
The ice might help keep the ship afloat for a little while longer. Maybe.
We’d find out soon enough.
Liked it? Click herrreee~
Being serious, you don’t need to have read any of the other Royal States novels to enjoy Bonds. Any old characters are introduced to poor Jack as they go, and his story doesn’t touch very much onto the rest of the world–too much, that is.
Now, last but not least! The female got this really cool link she wants to share with you. It’s a page that has carousels of all her books in one easy place! Not sure if you’ve read all of her books? That’s the place to go to check!
Happy reading, folks, and we hope you enjoyed the first scenes of Burn, Baby, Burn and Bonds!
As promised, my human is making efforts to revitalize the Magical Romantic Comedy (with a body count) series following a series of unfortunate (pirating) events.
For those new to the show, here was the deal: after pirating rates skyrocketed, which made getting the books into the hands of readers difficult at best, instead of flat-out ending the series as originally intended, she opted to give it one last hip-hip-hoorah before moving the series to a “when she feels like it if ever” level.
This was releasing Burn, Baby, Burn in May and attempting to revive the series through getting the books legitimately into the hands of her readers.
Playing with Fire, Hoofin’ It, Serial Killer Princess, Whatever for Hire, Hearth, Home, and Havoc, Owl Be Yours, and Fowl Play.
She’s also, since she’s here anyway doing her thing, attempting to make USA Today with her efforts. (Why not, right? She’s investing a great deal of money into the series, so may as well get that solo bucket list item she keeps drooling over…!)
Already have the series but want to support the effort?
1: Share the sale with your friends. You can use this link to help spread the word: https://books2read.com/Mag-Rom-Com-Starter-Pack
2: Buy a copy for a friend as some random gift. (It’s a book. Books are great gifts.)
3: Preorder Burn, Baby, Burn or buy it release week. The new book doing well is what will really help keep the series alive.
Yes, she really is selling work $28 in books for $0.99.
If you use facebook, head over to the human’s page. She is starting a giveaway for some really swanky prizes to help promote the sale.
For the authors among you, the human and I will be sharing how we prepped for this week, what ads we’re using, and how well the advertising effort is going as the week progresses. Expect the first post this evening.
We have thoughts.
Most of all, thank you!
We of the Blain household have been quiet. The female underwent an adjustment procedure, and some other humans dug into her face place and removed one of her chewy bits.
The human has been, generally, an unhappy critter. She must go see the other humans tonight to make sure her jaw isn’t about to file its pink slip and leave the union.
We’ll miss her should her jaw flee the union. From our research and general understanding of the situation, jaws are mandatory human bits.
The humans, being somewhat wise, have provided us with a tree of playing and worship. We have learned we can pounce their sleeping place from the upper levels, and they make delightful squees and grunts when we do so. I’m more likely to practice my ‘death from above’ skills compared to my sister.
I’m just fabulous that way.
Anyway, onto the books!
Following the devastation of World War III, nuclear radiation has spawned magic, ranging from nuisance koppa oni plaguing the Golden Gate to masters of the elements. It falls to the FBI’s supernatural quads and their supervisors to protect those who can’t protect themselves.
But when a mysterious force storms through a busy shopping center and fells everyone in its wake, Olivia Abrams and her team of special ops must find who is behind the attack and why before the entirety of San Francisco succumbs to its powers.
For the Royal States fans, thanks to changes to the preorder system (that actually benefit authors, yippee!) Bonds by Susan Copperfield is now available for preorder.
In the Royal States of America, magic rules all, but life—and love—always finds a way.
When a sinking oil tanker threatens to destroy the picturesque coastline of France, search and rescue diver Jack Alders and his waveweaving talent stand between France and a record-breaking oil spill.
But what Jack finds on board the dying ship will forever change the course of the Royal States and puts him in the sights of a royal tyrant out for blood.
Bonds will release on July 16, 2019.
RJ here. (The furry bastards are asleep right now.) To give new readers a chance to get some of the earliest books, I’ve put together the Magical Romantic Comedy (with a body count) Starter Pack!
This collection includes Playing with Fire, Hoofin’ It, Serial Killer Princess, Whatever for Hire, and three of the four Mag Rom Com novellas. (As shown on the pretty picture.)
It’s $9.99. Individually, the seven stories retail for $23.93. So, you’re getting a good deal on the books. If you’re a super bargain hunter, I will eventually submit this for a bookbub featured deal. If accepted, it’ll be substantially cheaper. (And a great way to get your friends hooked on the series.)
There is no new content in the Starter Pack. It exists to give new readers a chance to catch up on the series and see if they like the books for a more affordable price.
Note: While I might do an expansion packs eventually, future sets will only include titles more than a year old. If you’re willing to wait, it’ll be a great deal. Otherwise, continue as normal. 🙂
Thanks for your support, folks.
P.S.: If you’re just missing the novellas, it’s cheaper for you to just by the novellas by $0.99. To save money, you realistically need one novel and all three novellas as new-to-you stories or two full-priced novels. Otherwise, it’ll be cheaper to buy them individually.
Books in the collection are currently priced as follows:
Thanks again, folks!
Hey, humans. Zazzle here. We’ve finally managed to get the human to leave the glowy rectangle box for a few minutes. She claims she didn’t miss ‘the blasted thing’ while on vacation but has to ‘get some books finished so she can take naps.’ I respect the taking naps thing. Really, I do.
Here’s the deal. The human released a new book today. It’s called Shammed. This is what it’s about:
At R.K. Legal & Associates, office hours are between ten to six, pranks happen after hours, and evidence of all shenanigans are removed before doors open to clients.
When Alice’s boss, Mr. Kenton, starts a prank war with Lance McCarthy, an up-and-coming attorney from a rival firm, she thinks it’s just business as usual.
She’s never been so wrong in her life.
Chosen to be Mr. Kenton’s accomplice, Alice must face off against Lance in what quickly becomes a winner-takes-all game of hearts.
If you enjoy the Magical Romantic Comedy (with a body count) books, you’ll enjoy the Bernadette Franklin books despite their lack of magic. They have similar over-the-top shenanigans, more humor that you can shake a stick at, and the same inability to take anything, especially itself, too seriously. So, if you’re looking for an escape from reality, come along for the ride.
There’s no on-page sex, there’s always at least a little inappropriate humor, and all of these books are from the lady’s point of view… but if you’re a gentleman (or describe yourself as one,) there’s plenty of fun in it for you, too.
(Yes, humans… men are totally encouraged and welcome to enjoy reading a fun, light-hearted romance.)
We of the Furred & Finned Management hope you enjoy.
P.S.: We somehow survived imprisonment while the humans fled the country.
Also, I have acquired pictures, but the female has a dentist appointment today, and my job is to prevent her from freaking out too much. (The female had a filling pop, which broke the tooth when it popped, so she’s having a fun dental time.) Today’s adventure is to do a full cleaning of her chew tools and standard cavities and getting potential bad news on two other problem teeth that have, alas, been a problem for a while.)
Wish her luck, she’ll probably need it.
On the book scheduling front, while I’m here:
This is the order she’s working on books/releasing books next:
If the book you are looking on isn’t on this list, don’t worry. They’re still coming. Some projects are on the ‘play project’ list, which gets worked on alongside the main projects.
The female just wishes to have a little more time to do things like read fun books, which means she needs to give herself more time writing the books.
From this point forward, unless the book is particularly short, she is giving herself two months per book to write it. Should she finish early, she will work on a play project. As she finishes play projects, they will go to the editor as normal.
This means instead of a book a month, you can begin expecting a book every two months. She’d be sorry about that, but trying to fit in a book a month is exhausting, and it has the downside of readers expecting (and in some cases, demanding,) she release at that frequency.
She’d rather make less money and keep her sanity.
A note on Grave Humor: It’s on the schedule despite the fact it’s very unlikely to hit USA Today with its current preorder values. The books is already exceeding her expectations, and she appreciates it so much she’s scheduling it in to write in December and January. Unlike the other Magical Romantic Comedy (with a body count) books, there probably won’t be a preorder cycle.
Oh. One more thing.
This is the cover for the second Seeking the Zodiacs novel, which will be entering ‘play project’ status starting March 18. Hypnos is almost complete and ready for the editorial gauntlet!
The Seeking the Zodiacs series is being continuously written on the side, so it’s technically a main project, but it’s a main project the female works on after her real main project work is done each day.
We are hoping to release a new Seeking the Zodiacs every 4-6 months. (But we will see.)
Spoiler alert: the main character is the same from Hypnos! It’s a traditional series following the events of a singular main character!
(Don’t die of shock, please. We love you, humans!)
Have a great day, and happy reading!
Life is never easy for those with the strength to change the world.
These are their stories.
When Allison is asked to play Cinderella-turned-Fianceé at a Halloween ball, the last thing she expected was to be accused of murder. She has to find the killer or she’ll be put to death for the crimes she didn’t commit. To make matters worse, the victims are all werewolves.
On the short list of potential victims, Allison has to act fast, or the killer will have one more body to add to his little black book of corpses.
When Nicole dabbled in the occult, she lost it all: Her voice, her family, and her name. Now on the run from the Inquisition, she must prove to herself—and the world—that not all wizards are too dangerous to let live.
The world is full of corpses, and Jackson knows them by name. When a group strives to destroy the Inquisition, his powers may be all standing between the supernaturals and extinction.
Finished with being a victim, Vicky will do everything in her power to put an end to Basin once and for all, even if it means she must make the ultimate sacrifice and bite a silver bullet for the sake of her family, her friends, and the rest of the supernatural world.
This collection also contains Tales of the Winter Wolf Vol. Six.