I am hosting a new charity anthology to benefit the World Food Programme. This anthology will be romance stories with a theme of food—whether that means the main characters meet over food, are named after food, or someone falls head over meatballs for sentient spaghetti, every story will have a food theme.

But I hope to make this more than a charity anthology. I hope to make this a community-building exercise.

See, I know a lot of amazing writers from my writing server, Wordsmiths. We’ve been together for two years and have shared some incredible ideas and stories. But what if we all had an opportunity to exchange our knowledge and expertise across experience levels and build something that helps other people too? Thus Talk Foodie To Me was born.

Each author will be paired with another of a different experience level to help each other work through their short story submission. This way we get to spread that industry knowledge around, and we actually get to work together in a career that can be at times all too isolating.

My hope is to use as many skills as we have in our arsenal—everyone gets to contribute something in addition to their words, whether that’s proof reading or cover illustrations, we’ll all have a hand in the creation of the final product.

My hope is that we’ll exchange knowledge, build more connections, and ultimately help new folks get used to aspects of publishing that can be tricky or daunting. We all deserve to have our stories told, and I can’t wait to read them all!

Here’s how to apply:

Fill out this google form. My goal is to accept as many people as possible and give everyone an opportunity. This is not a clique, this is a collaboration. Get ready to play nice together! You’ll be invited to join the Wordsmiths community as part of the process, too.

Submissions close June 30th, 2026. Short stories should be new works between 2,500-15,000 words long, focusing on a theme of food and love, complete with HEA. NO AI MAY BE USED FOR ANY REASON. Short stories should be finalized and sent in by Decemeber 31st, 2026. Final publication will be May 28th, 2027, which is World Hunger Day, one year from today.

If you have any questions, please don’t hesitate to reach out!

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Attending Monsterotica Book Con was a delulu author goal of mine, and this year that dream came true in the best way imaginable. It came with a lot of obstacles, but I met each one and overcame them all, learning and growing and feeling so supported by this amazing, monster-loving community.

It started with the longest solo road trip of my life—from the high plains of Kansas to Baltimore. It took me three days to do the trip out, and I had to stay in a hotel by myself for the first time since I’ve been married. That was hard and scary. But literally every person I met on my journey there was kind, foreshadowing the good vibes of the convention. This was the furthest east I’ve been in my life and I got to see some beautiful landscapes. It was incredible. I loved every second of the total 23-ish hour drive.

When I arrived I could tell the volunteers were just as excited as the rest of us, eager to get the tables set up and willing to help at the drop of the hat. Honestly, the volunteers were outright amazing the whole time, and so helpful when I got turned around while looking at the convention map.

I unloaded and set up my table easily, just like I’d practiced—except I had help from a very kind narrator named Lindsey, who held a pole for me. (Thanks again, Lindsey!) I shared my table with another author, Skyla Gray, and she was a pure delight to be around.

The anxiety nearly did me in that first night, waiting to make sales and talk to people at my first ever big event. But I sold a book that night and jump-started my confidence in talking about my books to strangers.

The first day at the convention is a blur in my mind—all hand shakes and high fives and signing things. I met so many people and posed for so many pictures. I had an incredible time! And I was exhausted after the first signing. Though I planned to attend the panels, I wound up going back to my room to rest and refuel between signings because I just felt so tired.

After the second signing, I had made more in book sales in that single day than I had done for all previous years combined. I was floored. I was in complete shock about it. I cried, overwhelmed with joy and gratitude and just the sheer enormity of it all.

I learned a thing that first day: everyone has a shark story. Whether it is the reason they are afraid of sharks, how they love shark movies, their first tattoo being a shark, or a memorial to a family member that loved sharks, almost every single person that bought one of my books had a shark story to tell. And I loved hearing them. This was one really unexpected aspect of publishing and doing events I never could have anticipated and which I love very much.

The second day I was perhaps busier than the first, though I made fewer sales. I was signing a lot of anthologies and souvenirs, which was super fun. One lovely attendee had me sign a pillow shaped like a plant penis, which was delightfully strange and beautiful.

When I met members of my street team in person for the first time, my eyes immediately watered. I couldn’t even stop it. It was such an honor to meet the folks who have been talking up my work for the last few months, I can’t even express it.

Both days, I had a dedicated swag bag. Not only did the con hand out swag to the vendors, but everyone seemed to have a trade of some kind. I handed out so many shark necklaces and shark lollipops, and in return—sometimes for nothing at all—I was gifted some amazing trinkets and stickers. I have 3D printed sharks. I have a miniature of one of my books, specially made by a bookstagrammer. I was given a custom embroidered patch of the Requiem House crest by my street team. Other others gave me sharks galore. I was overwhelmed by the giving nature of the vendors, authors, attendees and volunteers.

And that ultimately is my biggest take away: the entire crowd was there to have a good time, but more importantly make sure everyone else was successfully and safely having a good time too. Not a single incident of rudeness reached my virtual or real ears. Not a single moment of bad behavior was brought to my attention. When I had a line at my table, everyone was patient and kindly waited so I could give my full attention to each person in line… It was incredible. It healed something in me, to be in that space with so many people working toward the same goal, with the same value for consent.

What is more, it validated me just by being there. I am a real person, with real books, with real readers. I didn’t know how much I had been pretending it wasn’t real until it was undeniably my reality.

Now, what all this says to me is that the event runner, Cassie of Unfortunate Reads, really knows how to run an event. There were clear expectations, and that everyone followed them? Authors, attendees, staff, and vendors alike? That is an incredible feat. Even the hotel staff, who I chatted with after the event was over, said they traded their off days to work the convention because they just loved the vibe. That really speaks to the integrity and kindness of the organizer, as much as it does of the volunteers, staff, attendees and authors.

Looking back, there are very few things I’d do differently. I’d account for fees from my credit card processing people (whoops, that 3% hit me harder than I anticipated) and I would have my art listed as a separate item on my price list. Everything else… was perfect.

I left home with 89 books and came home with 46. I left home a 3-figure author, and came home a 4-figure author. I left home unsure of if I had a place in the author community and came home feeling healed and loved and supported. Truly I cannot express how much I feel about this experience.

My sincerest gratitude to the volunteers, staff, event hosts, attendees, vendors, and hotel personnel that made this incredible weekend possible. Thank you!

Thanks for reading, and for your continued support!

~R

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Usually I’m pretty excited when Friday rolls around, but this Friday I’m especially excited. Two books release today! Finally, I can share these amazing stories with you!

First, a shout out to my colleagues for their amazing work on the anthology. I had such a great time working with everyone and the stories in this book are just delightful. I am honored to know and work with such truly creative, wonderful humans.

Second, a special shout out to the ARC teams of both books. Thank you so much for taking the time to read and review! This is truly so helpful for getting readers interested in the books, and really boosts an indie author’s readership. Thank you!

Third, a very special thanks to everyone who helped make these two books possible, from cover designers to beta readers to workshop partners to editors and sensitivity readers. You are amazing, and I’m so appreciative and admiring of your work!

Each book I write, and each anthology I participate in, is special to me, but these two have a unique place in my heart. Both had more community involvement, which was delightful and humbling. Both focus on ideas and concepts that are important to me.

The anthology benefits Planned Parenthood, an organization that literally saves lives. For a long time, my only healthcare provider was Planned Parenthood. There were there for me when no one else was. I feel honored to be able to give back with my participation in this anthology. To join a community of people united by this cause and a love for whacky and wild stories was a privilege and a joy I will cherish.

Fin Deep also holds a very special place because it has been helpful in my own identity explorations and discoveries. I prioritized sensitivity readers as well, to ensure I was on the right track with Kaley’s identity arc, and so I feel like this book is the result of a community coming together to share all of our experiences surrounding gender identity. This is also my 13th book, counting the anthologies I’ve participated in, which is my lucky number.

It might seems silly, but it really has taken me 13 books to plan a proper celebration for release day. My last two releases were in the midst of a depressive episode and a funeral so I understandably didn’t feel like celebrating. The others… I made little efforts to celebrate, like having a special cocktail or making a favorite meal. But this is the first time where I’m not rushing to the next deadline. I’m making a special effort to stop and appreciate where I am, how far I’ve come, and how many amazing people I’ve met along the way. We’ve reserved a special wine and cheese tasting at a semi-local cheese monger, and I’m super excited to raise a glass to toast the success of my fellow anthology contributors and these two books.

Thank you for reading and your continued support! I honestly couldn’t do as much as I do without readers like you, so you have my utmost gratitude.

~R

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As an author attending Monsterotica Book Con, I got to participate in the charity anthology for this year. The them was “2”, and with the variety of artists and authors included you can expect a huge selection of unique takes on the 2 theme.

This anthology is only available as an ebook outside of the con. Proceeds benefit ProLiteracy, which supports adult literacy programs across the world.

Want a sneak peek? Read on for a snippet from my short story, which features Underwater character Penny and a Saurian who have a wonderful night together.

Penny carefully didn’t watch her now ex walk away from her. To break up with her, especially at her best friend’s wedding, was the icing on the cake to their tumultuously toxic relationship. She’d been facing rejection as a crustacean shifter among Ceteans for years, but the personal sting of heartbreak made it so much worse.

I’m worthy of more than this, she tried to repeat to herself, despite the hard ache in her heart. The ooohs and ahhhs of the crowd as they watched the happy couple sweep around the dance floor in front of her didn’t help, but she kept her eyes trained on them anyway. She would not watch Charles walk away from her again.

“He is not so charming, eh?” The thick accent and dry timbre startled Penny. The speaker was the Saurian on the other side of the round table from her, who had no doubt watched her humiliation. She didn’t recognize him, but she couldn’t possibly know all of the several hundred guests here.

“Sorry?”

“That male,” the Saurian leaned his horned elbows on the table and nodded toward the direction Charles had gone, “he is not so charming. Not to you, beauty. Not worthy of you.”

“Not sure what business it is of yours.” She crossed her arms and legs as she looked back out on the dance floor, unnerved by his unknowing echo of her thoughts.

“Oh it is not, to be sure,” he chuckled. “But I cannot see a female having a bad time and ignore it.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Penny drained her glass and stood to leave; she’d had enough of oily pricks tonight. Not the good kind of enough, either.

“No need to run off, I’m not here to pick your wounds.”

Penny looked at him then. He was light Saurian, all creamy beiges with faint sage and olive undertones to his rough scales. The horns on his elbows and around the crown of his head darkened to a color similar to black sandstone. His keen eyes didn’t snake up and down her body as she’d expected. Instead, they were fixed on her own. The slightly elongated pupil was vibrantly stark against the golden topaz of his iris, made more apparent by the bright yellow line around it. Even in the dim light of the public square at night, they shone brightly enough to make her catch her breath. He waited, unmoving in that way of great lizards; patient, watchful, intense.

“What are you here for?” she asked when she finally caught her breath.

“I was invited, yes?” He leaned back in his seat. “Just as were you, I imagine.”

Penny rolled her eyes. His hissing chuckle drew her attention back to him.

“You want something?” She tried to goad him into some sort of honest response.

“Many things.” He never took his eyes off her. “None of which are here and now.”

Penny stifled a shiver. She didn’t understand why his singular consideration was making her feel hotter along her skin than any physical stroke of fingers or lips.

“Come, beauty.” He stood. Offering a clawed, horny-knuckled hand, he indicated the dance floor. “Let us show the sharks how to have a good time.”

Thanks for reading!

~R

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Today I made a post for social media, outlining what projects are in progress for this year… and I kinda knocked my own socks off. The list is seven items long and that is just the upcoming, not the completed already pile. That’s a lot. To my knowledge, that’s the most I’ve tried to do in year.

I had to sit back for a moment. I had this feeling that I wasn’t doing enough as an author, that I wasn’t producing enough to make it in the rapid-fire publishing monster romance genre. But when I broke it down and made a list… That was a totally false criticism of myself.

In case you didn’t see the post, this is what I’ve got coming up with certain dates:

April 1st: Double Trouble anthology release

April 24th: Grab the Bull anthology release

April 24th: Fin Deep release

And this is what I’ve got in progress with uncertain dates:

May (?): Fin Deep audiobook

June (?): Heart’s Hold audiobook

October (?): Super Secret Side Project

November (?): Charity anthology

On top of that, I’ve got audiobooks I’m narrating for my other business, two major events I’m attending, and a house remodel underway.

Honestly, I’m doing enough. I’m producing a lot and working very hard.

So why did I have this idea that I wasn’t?

Probably a lot of it because of my own mental health, of holding myself to a lot of production standards that just aren’t realistic, but that my perfectionist, Virgo, honor-student brain thinks are totally attainable. Like, shouldn’t I have my next two books written already?? What am I, a slacker???

Another contributing factor is social media. Seeing everyone post about their projects all the time, or about what their wins are, maybe how many sales they’re making, really skews the reality. Not everyone is having huge breakthroughs all the time, it just looks like that because those are the things we post most about on social media.

Now, this isn’t to say people shouldn’t share their wins, or their transparency posts, or whatever they are celebrating that day or week. I think those celebrations are suuuuuper important, more so now that the state of the world is… what it is. We need every bit of joy we can get.

Truly, I do believe we also need to take time, step back, and honestly look at where we are in the scheme of things without judgement or self-criticism. We have to put down the social media and stop comparing our journey to others. We have to slow down enough to enjoy the wins we have, as well as the excitement of upcoming things. Constant production without ever a pause to appreciate is a capitalist mindset, not a healthy creative mindset. What’s the point of this whole life if we aren’t enjoying it?

So let this be your reminder on this, a Friday the 13th, to slow down and look at yourself and what you have done without the harshness of judgements. Look at your successes, big or small, with joy instead of criticism. Celebrate your progress, no matter what it is, because you are on your own journey and nobody else’s. See that you have value just for existing (not because you create, produce, or earn anything) and acknowledge that is worth its own celebration.

We only get this one life. Let’s celebrate it.

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Thanks for reading! Hope everyone has a terrific end of the week!

~R

Keep reading for the scene details from the book!

Scene Excerpt:

Leanne clenched her teeth as she wheeled herself down the hall. Her hands ached, her newly formed barbs poking out of her nails and making it harder to grip correctly.

As she turned the corner, she gasped. “Oh, my gods.”

The clinic doors were wide open, Hatch One in plain view. Through a set of transparent secondary doors, Leanne could see Sven, Bryant, and five different station employees, locked in Greco-Roman style grappling. Sven’s muscles bulged, his nude body flexing as he tried to evade Dr. Durbin, who tackled him to the floor like he’d played in the NFL.

“Sven!” she called. “Sven, honey, stop!”

“You know that guy?” Kaley asked.

“That’s my mate—my husband! I’ve got to get to him—he’ll lose it if he doesn’t get eyes on me!”

“Uhh, kinda think he’s already lost it.”

“No one’s bleeding yet. Help me up, dammit!” Good gods, if any of them were hurt—Sven, Bryant, Dr. Durbin—

“Sven!” She used Kaley’s outstretched arm to help her up, but she slipped. God dammit. She clicked her jaw to call his implant with her own and yelled as loud as she could.

At last, Sven heard her. “Leanne!” His voice was rolling underwater thunder, the aural equivalent of his rage, his love, his relief. He flexed his arms and tossed the station employees like dirty socks, sending them flying. The hatch doors slid open in time for Sven to run through them, strong legs eating the ground.

“Leanne, what have they done to you?” Sven’s hands caressed her face, her hair, anywhere he could touch, a tactile inventory.

“Honey, I’m fine. Just a bit tired.” Her own hands reached for him, stroked the unsloughed scales on his cheeks, the curve of his neck where it dipped to his muscular back.

“But you’re—you—” His eyes began to darken.

“Stop. I’m fine. These nice people have helped me, remember? Let’s take a second,” she soothed, cupping his chin and forcing him to make eye contact, “breathe, and we can talk about all of this—clear everything up.”

His irises thinned, the precious cerulean blue becoming a thin stripe as pupillary blackness spread outward. His hands bit into her too-thin wrists, barbs pricking her. She smiled at him and let the world fall away.

After several long moments, minutes maybe, Sven kissed her palm, letting out a long exhale.

“My gods, pearl, seeing you in the chair… I thought—I don’t know what I thought. Did you get hurt? Is something wrong? Did they do something to you?”

“No, nothing is wrong.” She smoothed his fringe back from his face, though a few tendrils tried to hold onto her fingers. “They haven’t done a thing to me but get my fluids up, feed me, and help me learn more about what—what I am now.” Over Sven’s head, she met Dr. Durbin’s eyes. She asked, “Dr. Durbin, do you think we can get a little more space?” Or tried to ask. Her voice broke on the words.

The doctor glared down at Sven. “If we can all be calm, we can find a place to sit and chat.”

Leanne turned back to Sven, smoothing his scales again. “Can we be calm enough to sit and chat, Sven?”

“Provided they do not try anything…” He glared at the station workers briefly before his gaze met hers once more. “And as long as I have you in my arms.”

Pulling Sven into her arms, Leanne looked to Dr. Durbin again.

“We’ve got a lot to talk about,” he almost growled at her.

Leanne could only nod, fear and guilt gnawing her heart.

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Thanks for reading!

~R

I’m in the process of updating all my socials, so don’t be surprised if you catch the old logo in a couple places for now. There are truly so many socials, websites, mailing lists, etc that are nearly essential to authordom and self-promotion, so it will take me a while to get them all done.

Thanks for reading, as always, and I wish you all the best!

~R

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On February 14th, it will be three years since I published the first book in my Underwater series, Ocean’s Embrace. Simultaneously, it feels like so long ago and just yesterday that this book was released into the wild. I’ve learned so much and Sven & Leanne have come such a long way. Their undying love has carried them through trials and struggles, and still they remain strong.

Here are some stats for the book after three years:

• 342 units sold to date

• 4.26 average rating

• 23 ratings

• 11 text reviews

I’m so grateful for everyone who has supported this book and my career as an author. Thank you so much for reading and reviewing!

To celebrate, I’ve made OE free this week! Find it in your favorite bookstore here.

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2023

January: I was in the darkest place of my life. I was incredibly unhappy, and had turned to writing to do something to make myself happy, even for a little while. The day dreams I had used while running in the year previous finally went down on paper and became the Underwater series. (The working title of these stories was Underwater Orgasms, which I couldn’t make the series title for obvious reasons, so it became Underwater by its lonesome.)

Feb 1st: I published Passion’s Power as a novella, a sort of practice run. While I don’t often call it such, it was my first book.

Feb 14th: I published Ocean’s Embrace, the first novel in the Underwater series. This first edition was full of mistakes that I later found and had to fix. It was honestly a mess and I’m continually surprised it has done as well as it has. I’m still finding errors and fixing them, three years later, as embarrassing as that sounds.

But here’s the truth: I didn’t have a computer I could use to format books at the time, so I had to go to the library to use their machines, under a time limit. I was rushing, not to mention learning how to do everything the first time. I later got a Windows machine of my own so I could work from home, fortunately.

August: I finished my first draft of Sand’s Caress but hated a subplot so much I decided to rewrite the whole thing… with about a month until my release date. Phew. That was a trial, but I managed it in about three weeks. We also had a big vacation in there somewhere so that was tricky.

Sept 19th: I published Sand’s Caress. I was incredibly proud of this book, and I still am. I tried new things, I had learned from the two previous books, and I was able to format this one at home.

Sept 20th: I turned thirty. I continued working on scene that would later become Heart’s Hold.

October: I started outlining what would become Ink’s Grace and Ocean’s Kiss, though I had many scenes for those books already written—they just weren’t in outline or book shape yet.

I also started working for a zine local to Denver—Pillow Princess Press—and started writing the Inker series as part of an experiment with them. They ultimately didn’t want to use Inker, so I turned it into Substack posts.

November: I participated in my first NaNoWriMo and wrote what became Fin Deep in twelve days. That first day, I wrote 12k words. The last half of November I spent rewriting it to make it flow better. Then I put it on the back burner and waited for the right time to publish it.

2024

January: I started writing Ink’s Grace in earnest. I had intended for it to be a novella but a writing partner at the time told me the story was too involved to be novella-length. She was right.

February: I re-released Ocean’s Embrace with a new cover, and began prepping Sand’s Caress for the same treatment.

August 5th: I publish Ink’s Grace. Writing this story messed me up in the head quite a bit, but was also very healing. I couldn’t have managed it without the support of the Wordsmiths server and all their chocolate cake emojis. I also couldn’t have done it without all the help from my therapist.

November 4th: America elects an orange fascist back into the oval office.

November 18th: One of my short stories was published in the charity anthology To Appalachia With Love. This was to benefit folks who were impacted by hurricane Helene in summer of 2024. It felt really good to be able to use my art to help people. Now that story is available only through my street team.

Dec 1st: I published Heart’s Hold as a protest piece, against what I knew would be coming. I knew women’s rights would come under attack, and I knew especially trans rights would come under attack. I knew people of color would be more greatly impacted. So I set this up so that all royalties go to charities that support people with uteruses, especially with an eye toward serving BIPOC communities. To date, it has raised $4.67.

Later that month I start seriously turning my attention to Ocean’s Kiss to finish the latter half of the first draft.

2025

January: I lost my job at a local brewery and restarted my voice business, with a focus on audio narration. The wonderful author community I’d grown to know and love over the last two year really helped me when I needed it, and I’ll be forever grateful. To this day I can still write full time because I’m also narrating full time. Seriously, thanks so much, everyone.

February: I finished drafting Ocean’s Kiss and began the editing process.

April 10th: A short story of mine was included in the charity anthology Giving It To Charity. This was an incredible challenge for me, and I’m so grateful for the experience of working with the group on everyone’s stories. I learned a lot from the editing notes I received and it was a delight to be a part of something bigger.

June 14th: I published Ocean’s Kiss and attended the funeral of my last grandparent.

Later that month I lost a close friend and writing partner.

July: I began serious drafting of Book 4 of the Underwater series, but my heart wasn’t in it. I was hitting road blocks and dealing with writer’s block and just generally struggling to be creative. I also began taking a look at Fin Deep again, with an eye more toward publishing it. It was already complete so all I had to do was fine tune and edit it, and that I could do despite the writer’s block.

August: I lost another close friend and writing partner, and inherited the responsibility of shepherding a small writing community. At this point, the combined grief and the state of the country was really getting to me. I was beginning to question if I could keep writing at all—because, you see, I had burned myself out with so much writing so fast. But with the help, love, and continued support of that same writing community I was able to give myself grace and the space I needed to clear my creative head. Therapy was also fundamentally important. 10/10 recommend.

We also adopted a lemon shark and named her Divina, through Project Lemon Aid.

October 7th: I published Passion’s Power as an audiobook. I’ve never really wanted to narrate my own books, but I can’t deny that it was super fun to do so. I had a great time revisiting Bea and Vester, and fell in love with their story all over again.

December 11th: I had my first book fair, at a coffee shop in Denver. I sold one book. I did, however, have the best time chatting with a young person about her favorite shark (lemon) and got to give her a cool bookmark and sticker.

December 17th: I published Snowed In, a novella featuring Leanne from the Underwater series. It follows her early relationship with her first husband, Jared, and is set at Christmas time.

2026

In total, I’ve sold 541 books to date, not counting the anthologies. (I wasn’t the main publisher of those titles, so I have no way of knowing how many copies of each went out.) I couldn’t have done it without all the amazing support of the author and reader communities and the connections we’ve shared over the years. I am profoundly changed by these interactions and feel so truly blessed (not in a creepy religious way but there’s no other term I can think of that sums it up) to know so many amazing people. Just to share the passion of writing with so many is pure delight.

2026

So what am I taking into this new year of being an author? A lot of lessons, but more importantly, I’m taking into the new year the joy of writing again. I’m going to roll around in my writing like a cat in catnip and really write for the fun of it, not just because the stories want to be told. In the rush of wanting to publish constantly, it is so easy to lose sight of why I started this in the first place: which was to do something that made me happy.

I’m also going to doubt myself less in the new year. I have come a long way and learned a lot of stuff, and I am better equipped to be an author now than I ever was before. I can rest on my successes and breathe periodically, as we all deserve rest when we need it.

What can you expect from me in the year to come? Oh boy, I’ve got loads of fun stuff in the works. Here are a few…

Fin Deep comes out April 24th (ARCs are still open for that one, btw).

In May, I’ll be at Monsteroticon (if you’re going, you can find my pre-order here, also hi, hello, can’t wait to see you in person!).

Inker is going to be (hopefully) consolidated into it’s first volume, (hopefully) complete with illustrations. My goal is to have it ready by October, but we’ll see. You can’t rush good artists, and I’ve got a great artist working on it. At the very least, you’ll be getting more chapters this year than you did last year (SO sorry about that).

In October I’ll be attending Book Harvest wearing my narrator hat (not really a hat, more a persona) so if you’d like to come get a book signed by the author and narrator, meet me there. Look forward to seeing you!

I hope to contribute to three anthologies this year. I’ll release further information about those as it becomes available.

I would love to have Underwater Book 4 done by October, but I’m not sure I’ll make it. My narrating business is picking up and I really need the money, so I’ll be spending more time reading and less time writing this year, I expect.

Is there anything in particular you’d like to see more of? I’d love to hear from you, if there’s more content you’d like to see, or which stories you’re looking forward to most. My inbox is always open for chatting about books!

Thanks for reading!

~R

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The theme is “bull” and we have several different genres in our group, so be prepared for ANYTHING from a bulldozer to a minotaur. My story features a bull shark (of course) and I can’t wait to share it with you!

You can pre-order the anthology here: https://books2read.com/Grabthebull

Please like, subscribe, and pass it on!

~R

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Previously on Inker: Detective Blue Eyes pays the Inker a visit and admits she needs help.

“My brother disappeared twelve years ago,” Meagan explains. “He—got off his meds and… Well, we tried to get him help again but we lost track of him. He just… disappeared. Even the folks he sometimes hung around with didn’t see him—it was as if he just dropped off the face of the earth.” She inhales deeply and lets it out slowly. “Then yesterday I swear I saw him. But he was… Different. Not like, on his meds different. Not high different. Not tired and drained and hopeless different. He was…” She swallows.

“Magically different, somehow?” I ask as Trill sits next to me on the table and reclines against my arm like a smoke-cloud model. I’m not sure what look ne is going for, but it gives wanna-be center spread vibes.

“I don’t know. How do you tell?” She leans forward, her desperate hope palpable in her intense scrutiny of my response. Oh, what I wouldn’t give for her to give me that intense regard in a very particular circumstance… I shake my head. Naughty thoughts are not helpful.

“It depends. First off, does seeing him make you happy? Or uneasy?” I’m trying to judge her immediate response. Typically, if there’s something magical afoot—

“It actually gave me goosebumps. There was something—in the way he held his head or something… It was like a zombie. Walking Dead style, not zoned out and unaware style.”

Welp. “That heeby-jeeby feeling? That’s usually when a not-good kind of magic is involved. It might not be anything serious though,” I’m quick to reassure her. “It might just be a little thing.” I don’t know of any little things that make people into shuffling zombies that want to eat your flesh, but I’m not about to dash her hopes.

“Okay, so what can be done?”

I note how she says that. Not what can we do, or I do, or even you do. She’s distancing herself already with her language. Can I blame her though? I know what it is like to be estranged from family, and that pain isn’t something you want to invite. After so many lost or missed chances, hope starts to hurt more than the separation… My protective side surges up, wanting to keep her from that injurious hope.

“It depends what the cause ultimately is. I can’t be sure with just this information.” I pause, watching her. “Do you know where he is?”

Her perfect mountain pond eyes send sharp shard through my soul. “Yes, I do.”

***

Walking through the camp under the overpass shows me a lot of the magical crowd have taken resident in Denver’s homeless population too. I’ve spotted a few goblins, a couple of vamps, and an actual troll by the time we stop by one of the tarps.

“This is where Jackal said he’d been staying,” Detective Dowtry says. We’ve drawn a lot of suspicious looks—everyone here knows a cop when they see one. Thankfully, I recognize a lot of these faces too. Some I’ve helped, some I’ve met at the soup kitchen on volunteer days, and the supernatural beings know what I am even if they don’t know me by sight. I offer a respectful nod to one of the vamps watching us and they nod back, pulling their buddy back into the shadows.

“And who is Jackal?” I ask.

“One of my CIs,” she tosses off, like everyone has a criminal informant or twelve. “Dathon? Are you in?” She taps on the flap of the tarp. “Dathon?”

“Dathon Dowtry is your brother’s name?”

“Hey hey, lady gray,” calls a man from across the gravel access road. I do a double take when I see him. To my Sight enhanced eyes, he literally has the hed of jackal, his pointed ears sticking out of holes in his grimy ballcap. He gives me a wolfish grin and a wink, subtly signing with his gloved fingers. “Dathon gone today.”

Ah. This must be Jackal.

“Any idea where I could find him?”

“That depends on what you want with him.” He tosses me another wink. An unnatural quiet blankets us, almost like an aural fog muffling the sound of the city and the whispers of the onlookers die away.

I know a spell when I See one.

“You are the Inker, yes?” the jackal says to me, drawing my attention away from the dense cloud of silence enveloping us. “My name is Jackal. It is an honor to meet you.”

“Pleasure is all mine,” I say politely as I take his paw—yes, his paw—to accept the shake.

“I have never met one before. You are not as I expected.”

“Oh, well, I’ve been evading people’s expectations since I was born. Don’t take it personally.”

His laugh was like coyotes in the night. “You, I like.”

“Mutual.” Because after just this brief interaction I already know in my gut I can trust him.

“Anyway, lady gray, Dathon isn’t here today.”

“So you said. Any idea where he’s walking today?”

Jackal flicks an ear. “I think he doesn’t want to be found. He wasn’t looking so good.” This last is accompanied by eyes darting my way, like he’s trying to tell me something without her knowing. “You shouldn’t be down here, lady gray.”

“Look, if you see him, will you tell him I’m looking for him? Tell him it is Meggie.”

“No can do, I can’t start snitching.”

“This is kind of giving us away, isn’t it?” I interrupt, gesturing toward the spell around us.

“This comes with a Look Away effect. The detective here can’t even see it, can you? They have already ceased to pay attention to us.” He narrows his eyes at the detective but smiles slyly at her. “Otherwise my cover would have been blown for talking to a cop.”

“Look Away effect?” The detective clearly can’t see the spell we’re in.

“We’re in a sort of bubble of silence right now,” I explain. “Feel that pressure on your ears? How the air has gone still against your skin? That’s how you know.”

“Oh. Freaky.” She looks like she’s just realized she’s covered in slime and can’t wait to wash it off. Then she looks are Jackal differently.

“Relax, lady gray. It won’t hurt you.” His voice is suddenly soothing and I know it is laced with magic.

“I—”

I interrupt: “Will you tell him I’m looking for him?” I flick my wrist and produce a business card with my name and address in cool old-school tattoo style font. (I made it myself, I’ve very proud.) But the small magic trick has the desired effect and Jackal takes the card form me gingerly with a bow.

“To be sought by an Inker,” he says with a his between his canine teeth. “Now that is something that will have everyone looking to get him to you.”

“No pressure. No pain. Just want to talk.” I shrug. Meagan goes to open her mouth but I nudge her with my foot and she clamps it shut again.

“Talking, yes… I’ll see that this gets where it is supposed to.” Jackal makes the card disappear much like I made it materialize, and we both smile at each other. “For now, you should go.” The spell begins to dissolve around us, like someone turning the volume up on the TV very gradually.

“But—”

“No buts. I don’t want to blow my cover, do I?”

Meagan looks to me. “But I thought you said—”

“No buts, beautiful, let’s go.” I take her arm and hustle her out with a grateful nod at the few supernaturals still watching us. Luckily it looks like we didn’t make much of a scene at all—Jackal’s skills are well-honed.

“Well that was a lot of nothing,” she huffs as we walk back toward her car.

“No, that was a whole lot of weight thrown around. If your brother is alive, he’ll turn up, I’m guessing in the next week or so.”

She sighs, exasperated, her eyes rolling. “But that would have happened anyway.”

“But this time we know exactly where he’ll show,” I argue. She looks at me blankly. “My shop.”

“How do you know that?”

I step very close, ignoring the luscious scent she carries as I speak softly. “I know you don’t know this, but I carry a huge amount of report with the supernatural community. Just by being and Inker, I get into places no one else could, even if they don’t know me, or have never met me before. Kinda like how you sometimes get a ‘thank you for your service’ free coffee?” I see in her eyes that has happened to her before. “It is like that but magical.”

“And Jackal was magical? So you think he’ll help you when he wouldn’t help me?”

“No, I know he’ll help me, just like he is helping you.” I give her a small smile. “And there are a lot of supernaturals who will know about Dathon Dowtry before the sun sets.”

“What if you’re wrong?”

I look away and step back, shrugging. “Then you are probably better off not knowing. It means they couldn’t get him to us, for whatever reason.”

“He’s not dead.”

“I don’t think he is,” I say gently. “But something is up. Jackal didn’t want you poking around even though he clearly trusts you. Something must be going on.” I make up my mind in that instant. “So you should probably stay to your side of the tracks for a while.”

“You mean out of the—the supernatural community?”

“Safer that way, yeah.”

“I’m a cop,” she snorts. “I can handle unsafe.”

“I have no doubts you can handle a lot of things,” I put a purr into my voice just because the sharp light of her eyes does things to me, and I want her to know, “but this is magic we’re talking about. Not your specialty. Leave it to the expert, okay? I promise I’ll let you know as soon as I hear something.”

Grudgingly, she agrees to stick to her routine and her regular cases, to await my summons—her words—when I hear from Jackal. I get the sense that she’s a little jealous I co-opted her CI, but honestly, she shouldn’t really be fraternizing with anyone in the supernatural community.

Least of all me.

As I bustle her into her car and walk toward my shop, I wonder what Dathon has gotten into that a descendant of Anpu wants us to stay away.

A few nights later, I found out.

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At the end of the year, everyone reflects on what they’ve achieved and what they’ve discovered or explored along the way. It is a beautiful time to celebrate wins, acknowledge losses, and admit our own gratitude for where we are.

Like many, I found this year to be really hard. The world is a mess right now, and creating in such an environment is incredibly difficult. I found it really hard to hold on to hope. There was a lot of grieving this year.

Yet there were a lot of blessings, sometimes disguised as hardships. I had whiplash there for a minute, with so many good and bad things happening at once. I had a difficult time keeping up with the workload and my personal life at times, and the year really tested my strength and integrity as a person.

I started the year by losing my job at a local brewery. The whole business shut down, and I lost an outside source of income and inspiration. I really loved making beer happen, and it hurt to let go of it. This made way for me to start a new business, however, as an audiobook narrator. In a fit of desperation, I posted to my author threads that I would do audiobooks for a ridiculously low price and I wound up booking the entire year out in about a week. My gratitude for those who took the risk on a newbie like me is enormous. Thanks, all. You gave me hope and the support I needed to keep going.

My sixth book was published in the spring—just as I lost my last grandparent. It was such a mindf*ck to celebrate such a huge achievement and mourn the loss of my grandmother. Her funeral and my release worked out to be on the same day. I had to hold on to my positivity quite a lot that week.

In with all of that, I got my first merchandise deal and got accepted to my first book convention. I’m still surprised and overwhelmed by what this has done for my readership, and what it could mean for me going forward.

This year, I also lost my two closest friends. It is a particular kind of grief, to mourn the loss of someone who is still alive, just not in my life. And to lose both in such quick succession broke something in me for a while—namely my faith in people. But we all make mistakes, and I see in this a lesson too. To this day, I still wish them both all the best, and I’m so grateful for the joys we were able to share together.

As part of one such loss, I also gained the huge responsibility of moderating the writing discord that has been with me nearly from the start. I am honored and privileged to know each of the members, and it brings me incredible joy to see their writing journeys. If you are looking for a strong and positive writing community yourself, please message me. I know a place just waiting for you.

Recently I attended my first book event. It was small, intimate almost, and in the Denver area. I wasn’t sure what to expect, other than meeting some cool authors. I wound up selling one book and joining another great community, as well as testing out my setup for the big event I have in the spring. It was a hugely positive experience, and I’m excited to do it again.

This year was not a year for writing. With so much grief, I lost my way for a while. What I did write was something totally out of my usual realm, and I got about 36k words down. I probably had a lot more words written total between blog posts and short stories I’m prepping for next year, but I didn’t keep close track of that—which was a lesson as well. I had been pressuring myself to write as fast as I could, as much as possible, but this year I learned to give myself grace when I’m not inspired to write. It has freed up my mind for other adjacent projects, and allowed me time to build a solid foundation for future growth.

Overall, this was a huge year for expansion. Both of my businesses are growing exponentially. I have made new friends and have tried new things, and I’m preparing to do even more in the year to come. My book sales also grew this year, with a total of 231 units sold and nearly $200 made at the time of writing this.

This is also a time for me to remember why I started doing the whole author thing—not to make money or be known. I got into it because I had stories to tell, and I wanted to connect with other storytellers and readers like me. I’m slowly returning to beta reading. It has resulted in some of the best stories I’ve ever read. And I’ve been focused on building a solid community a lot this year. These two things together remind me why I love to write, why stories are so compelling to me. I’ll keep investing in the wonderful people I’m privileged enough to call my friends, and I’ll keep believing in their stories.

I’m ending this year quite happy. My heart is absolutely full. I am so grateful for every opportunity this year has brought, in both lessons and in growth. I am not a religious person, but I do feel truly blessed to know so many brilliant authors and dedicated readers, to have so many chances to share my stories, and for all the joys I have had.

Thank you to everyone who has been with my on my journey, and thank you to everyone just joining me. As ever, I greatly appreciate your support.

I wish you a charmed and happy holiday season, and I hope you have a brilliant new year full of joy.

~Regina

Surprise! I have decided to release my first contemporary romance piece, set at Christmas time. This is my first release without a shark love interest (I know, trust me, it feels weird to me too) but it does feature our favorite feisty FMC Leanne from Ocean’s Embrace. This is a fast burn, low angst short story of falling in love over winter break during a snowstorm.

You can find it here: books2read.com/snowedinreginasage

Happy reading!

~Regina

Hello all! I have a special announcement! I will be in Denver this weekend to drink coffee and sell books! All books will be signed, and I’ll have a few other things on offer too.

• Signed paperbacks of Ocean’s Embrace, Sand’s Caress, Ink’s Grace, and Ocean’s Kiss

• Free bookmarks and stickers

• Illustrated bookmarks by Sharktopia with single book purchases (limited supply)

• Shark charm necklaces with multi-book purchases (limited supply)

• Headbands hand-knitted by me

The event starts at 12:00 on December 13th, and goes until 4:00 PM. The location is Prodigy Coffee House, at 4500 Broadway in Denver, Colorado.

I’m super excited to meet some people and talk about books, coffee, and sharks! I’ll also happily sign any books you might already have and want to bring. I hope I’ll see you there!

~Regina

We are at the time of year where the weather turns and we want to just cozy up. We’re also running out of time to meet our books-per-year goals.

In case you’re working on finishing such a goal, I’ve put together a list of novellas to help you get there. All of the novellas below can be read in a day or two. Each is written by either myself, or by someone I’m honored enough to call a friend.

Runner’s Prize

Blurb: No strings. No feelings. Except… rules are meant to be broken. After her ex-boyfriend turned into a stalker, Melissa swore off all men. Dating? Out of the question. Relationships? Absolutely not. But sticking to her rules gets tricky when Daniel walks into her life with his easy charm, wicked grin, and infuriating ability to push her buttons. And then there’s tall, dark, and delicious Grayson. One kiss from him, and Melissa has trouble remembering why dating was such a bad idea in the first place. Runner’s Prize is a spicy contemporary MFM romance. It is a standalone story and part of the Steamy Towers series, where the men will fall first and hard.

Vrauma’s Menagerie

Blurb: Gaia is a simple college student: a weekend relaxing in the woods, a pile of books, and a distinct lack of adventure are all she needs to be happy. Never mind the worries about the future that keep creeping in.

Thrander wriggles its tentacles at its umpteenth animal wrangling expedition; the Ukoid captain is no stranger to finding new creatures for its employer’s menagerie, but after so many times of the same thing, it’s a bit bored. These creatures don’t really vary that much from world to world... right?

Bhosla, a young Ukoid zoologist, is overjoyed when Thrander invites it to join on its very first visit to an extraterrestrial planet — not just its first visit, but an actual expedition to find a human. Books can only teach you so much, after all.

When two horrifying creatures emerge from the woods hell-bent on capturing her, Gaia has choices to make — all of them revolving around what will keep her alive the longest. And are those... tentacles? Perhaps there are a few more decisions than she thought there were...

An Appreciation Of Cats

Blurb: How do we know if it’s too late?

Dr. Ian Devonshire, the beloved veterinarian of Holly Grove, is sixty-eight with no plans to retire—until a skin exam ends with an unexpected biopsy. Ian tells no one, privately worrying about what a worst-case scenario would mean for his practice and, more importantly, his assistant, Dr. Alec Tarley.

Ian isn’t sure if Alec’s friendliness means what he hopes it does, though it wouldn’t matter if it did; Ian is old enough to be Alec’s father, and as his boss, Ian doesn’t want the small-town scandal of becoming involved. So even as Ian wonders what it might be like to have their afternoon tea somewhere other than behind closed doors, he convinces himself the risks far outweigh the gains.

Especially now, as the pending results strand him like Schrödinger’s Cat. In an attempt to protect them both from the heartache of a malignant prognosis, Ian makes the abrupt decision to retire. But when Alec refuses to take over the clinic without an explanation for the sudden change of heart, Ian must decide between what’ll hurt more: revealing his secrets or walking away.

Can’t Refuse Him

Blurb: Oscar, a janitor cursed to be aroused by trash, meets Eddy, a Grouch (bin-spirit) who was murdered and discarded in the 1970s. Between curse-breaking intimacy, ghostly hauntings, and trash-bin makeouts, they discover redemption, grief, and the monster boyfriend of your dreams.

One Click Away

Blurb: ONE CLICK AWAY is a spicy contemporary romance novella about a stressed chief editor, a talented junior writer, a grumpy cat who owns the bed, and one perfect fake relationship.

Lincoln William Blake III’s life goal has been to take over his family’s magazine. He’s dedicated his entire adult life to showing his grandfather he would be the perfect successor. When the retirement announcement finally arrived, Lincoln didn’t receive his promotion. Instead, he must prove he’s a family man before he inherits the family legacy.

Georgiana Lopez can’t convince her family that she’s finished with her ex. They won’t listen to reason, so she posts an online ad, looking for a fake boyfriend. She never expected her insensitive, self-important boss would respond. Lincoln might be one of the hottest guys she has ever seen in her life, but that doesn’t give him any right to critique her work harshly.

How can she fake date someone she hardly likes?

Lincoln’s intention was only ever to encourage Georgiana’s natural talent to help her grow as a writer. He never considered his delivery could push her away. What started out as a business arrangement somehow transforms into the realest relationship either of them has ever experienced.

Are they brave enough to take the leap?

Passion’s Power

Blurb: Beatrice is a battalion leader in the Cetean Military and absolutely mean with a bident. Any nasty creations those Necros can throw at her will fall with ease. So she most definitely doesn’t need the scribe her father, the General, saddles her with… Except he is the most beautiful male she’s ever seen. Find out how her passion becomes her power in this prequel to Ocean’s Embrace.

Beatrice is a battalion leader in the Cetean Military and absolutely mean with a bident. Any nasty creations those Necros can throw at her will fall with ease. So she most definitely doesn’t need the scribe her father, the General, saddles her with… Except he is the most beautiful male she’s ever seen. It is a relief when she finally gets a bit of leave, but the short vacation comes with unexpected company. When all Hel breaks loose, she has to make a series of hard decisions, which put her race at risk as well as her heart. Can she balance the hard life as a commanding officer with her desire for her muscle-bound male assistant? Can they both make room in their lives for their passions, and still fight for a better world? NOTE: this one is also available in audio.

Heart’s Hold

Blurb: Bryant and Vixxa met through their work with Margin Medicine, an Interstellar Alliance medical aid group, and travel the galaxies to bring healing and hope to peoples in need. Vixxa, a vulpine shifter, knows right away that Bryant is hers, but Bryant is a shy squishy cinnamon roll. Bryant, son of the Cetean Prime Minister, is hesitant to act because he doesn’t like to get things wrong. Finding themselves stuck in tight situations, they finally manage to agree: they were meant to be.

Read Heart’s Hold to find out how Vixxa and Bryant fell in love before her untimely and completely preventable death due to pregnancy complications. Proceeds of this novella go to women’s health charities to improve healthcare and prevent unnecessary death in the United States.

I Do CHAOS

Blurb: With the perfect job, perfect wedding, and perfect life in front of her, Jamie isn’t as excited as everyone else. Can she fix things before it slips out of her grasp? Jamison Jones Scott should be on top of the world. Her dermatology residency is almost over, and she is two months away from a fabulous job and an extravagant wedding to a rich, sexy surgeon. Her mother is over the moon about the pending nuptials and many members of the city’s establishment can’t wait for the merging of two prominent families in Atlanta. But nothing seems right—including her attitude… She has been taking unnecessary chances and putting everything on the line. Can she fix things before it’s too late? But more importantly, does she want to?

Dating CHAOS

Blurb: A first date with a detective and a family with secrets—what could go wrong?

Two weeks ago, Jamison almost died; it’s a complicated story. But the experience reminds her life is fleeting, and to keep living. So, she makes a date with Nick the Detective—a man who’s so hot she almost wants to cry. With her history of bad relationships and recent traumatic experiences, it’s understandable why members of her family are against her dating this new guy.

Jamison doesn’t know the half of what’s coming.

After a delicious date that ends with both fireworks and danger, Jamie knows she’ll get an earful for her choices from her mother, but she’s ready to defend herself. But she surprisingly doesn’t have to. Her mother has problems of her own when an unwanted acquaintance from a lifetime ago shows up like an unpleasant blast from the past.

This long-lost individual is about to bring old family secrets to the surface. To top things off, there’s a New Year’s Eve party that’ll have everyone in one place. Everyone. Her brother’s stalkerish ex and his current girlfriend, her sister who thinks Jamison shouldn’t be making any decisions right now, and her mother, who thinks she can’t tie her shoes without supervision. And Nick.

This promises to be an unforgettable party…

And a hell of a second date to usher in the New Year!

Happy reading!

~R

The Wedding Scene

In the end, though, it was fairly reserved in terms of spectacle. They were married on a skywalk, only a small group of invited guests present—though the city came out to watch from street level and surrounding rooftops. The ceremony was simple, with only a few tradition elements. The wilder Cetean rituals they opted not to use.

They kept some of the old vows, though, because Leanne liked them, and Sven had already been using them to tell her he loved her.

Leanne learned to speak them in Cetean, and, much to her surprise, Sven secretly learned them in English—so they made the vows twice, once each for their disparate peoples now linked by an artist and an adventurer.

Leanne had thanked her stars she didn’t have to do dress shopping with anyone. Divina had helped Leanne find a proper fabric and practiced with Leanne to get the draping just right, pinning it so that the peplos-like folds were secure, exposing one shoulder in offering for Sven’s mark.

It was thus a great surprise to Leanne when Beatrice stepped into the reserved dressing room with a long drape over her arm, and asked Divina to take out the pins from Leanne’s just completed wrap.

“This was mine,” Beatrice said softly. “I am not sentimental to save these things, but… For some reason I did.”

Leanne took a fold of the draping into her hands, running her fingers along the exquisitely fine weaving of it. It was much finer than the simple cloth Leanne had chosen with Divina’s help, and sparkled sedately in the light from the window.

“Thank you,” Leanne whispered, awed and fighting tears.

“I cannot think of anyone more suited to wear this,” Beatrice said, and her voice had thickened with emotion as well.

They held each other then, moving as one into each other’s arms. Leanne closed her eyes, breathed in the soft scent of her mother-in-law, thanking the gods, stars, and fates for everything.

Withdrawing, Beatrice sniffed, and Divina was ready with two handkerchiefs. They laughed, and Leanne started taking out the pins herself. Compared to Beatrice’s gift, the cloth Leanne had chosen seemed dull and dirty. Leanne thanked her again, and Beatrice kissed her forehead.

Beatrice was all business after that. Due to the draping design, it didn’t matter that Beatrice was taller or broader than Leanne. The extra fabric was just draped with the rest of it.

Beatrice had also recruited several other Requiem females to complete the pre-ceremony ablutions, and to paint Leanne with the traditional swirling white-gold patterns of symbolic marks on her skin. Leanne had been insecure at first, before such stately ladies, but she soon got over that. The bawdy jokes among women, and sentimental stories told with fond exasperation of their own ceremonies, were a similar element of human and Cetean wedding preparations, it seemed.

Where human fathers would give their daughters into the care of the bridegroom, the Ceteans walked to each other. One unusual element of their ceremony, one Leanne insisted upon, was the skywalk. It was important, she argued, to represent the crossing of obstacles. After Talin’s Temple rites, her cuff crutches were recovered from the graveyard, and Horatio had repaired them in record time. So she walked to Sven from one side of the skybridge, alone, and Sven came alone to her from the next roof over.

Sven was beautiful in his own regalia, but Leanne really only had eyes for his face. His eyes were intense and sparkled in the midmorning sun. His scales glowed from within, as if the joy he felt in the moment was uncontainable and seeped from his pores.

No priest or minister presided over the ceremony. The Council Elders were present, watching from the roof behind Sven. The proper paperwork would be handled by Vester, and he assured Leanne it wasn’t necessary to have them present. Leanne insisted on their attendance, however, because she wanted no doubt that the binding was true… And, not so secretly, she wanted to make them show up last minute for something.

When they met in the center of the skybridge, the world faded away. Leanne pressed her palm to Sven’s. He held out the translucent strip of kelp, offering one end of the ribbon to her. Together they wrapped their joined hands.

“You are the pearl of my heart.”

“You are the sea to my soul.”

“You are the tide that pulls me to life.”

“May these things and our love bind us as the Fates will…”

“…In this and all our lives.”

They spoke their vows unprompted, sealing them with kisses, and a small symbolic bite that did not break skin. Then Sven picked her up and swung her around, kissing her deeply, and all of the brothers—watching from the rooftop behind Leanne—hooted, whistled and howled their approval. Their cries were muffled an instant later, however, by the collective roar that came from the Ceteans on the streets below and on the rooftops around them.

Thanks for reading!

~R

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Scene One, the “Chocolate Cake” Scene

Divina fought back the surprise and irritation at being interrupted in her brooding. When she saw it was Francis, however, she was even more surprised, and felt her eyes go wide as he put yet another piece of cake in front of her.

As she sat staring up at him, Francis split his lips in a wide, tooth-baring grin. Divina was momentarily breathless for the brilliance of his smile.

“May I sit?” Francis took the seat across from her.

Rattled, she tried to center herself. Please, she thought, I don’t need you picking at my mask today, Francis. Please play nice.

Staring across the table at Francis’s smiling face, she asked, “What do you want, Francis?”

He stopped smiling, and his eyes roamed her face before flicking down to the cake between them.

“Have some.” She pushed the plate and fork toward him.

“You don’t want it?” he asked, his head tilting to the side as he assessed her.

She shrugged, but her mouth was watering for the cake more than the stupid salad she’d been trying to force down her gullet moments ago.

Something of that must have shown on her face, because Francis said, “I would rather you eat the cake than drool all over it and the table as you sit and stare without indulging.” When she didn’t reply, he smiled again. “Don’t mind if I do.” An enormous bite of cake sailed between those perfectly brilliant lips—Caught it at last!—before they closed around the root of the fork. His eyes closed and he growled—actually growled—when he slid the fork back out of his mouth. Divina watched as he rolled the chocolate around in his mouth like a sommelier tasting his favorite vintage. When his eyes opened again at last, they were glazed over. She noticed for the first time that they were a shade darker than the chocolate ganache.

“Wow, you do love chocolate,” she said, but her statement was robbed of the sarcasm by her suddenly husky tone.

His chocolate-thrilled gaze caught hers. “Absolutely. About the only thing I share with my mother.”

His mother? Why was he telling her about his mother when he basically just tongue-fucked a fork for a bite of cake?

“Oh?” And why was she asking about his mother when he continued to tongue-fuck a fork for a bite of cake? Cake that he’d brought to her—her cake! Vaguely, a part of her mind recognized that this was the third time he’d brought her chocolate, and the second time he’d met her over food in the dining hall.

It doesn’t mean anything, the other part of her mind hissed. He’s not following your romantic agenda, Divina. Don’t be stupid.

“Yep. We didn’t always get along, but we had ‘chocolate dates’—her name for them, not mine—when we would go to the nearest chocolate house and for an hour we would talk and sip hot chocolate, eat eclairs, and not disagree a bit.” He cut another bite off the quickly dwindling remainder of dessert. “It was special, a time when we called truce no matter what else was going on between us.”

“Oh.” Wow, she had absolutely nothing to say to that. She really didn’t want to think about his mother while she watched him devour her cake like that, making those sounds.

Gods… She could feel the air disturbed by his rumblings… What would that be like, underwater?

“What about you?” he asked between bites. “Why do you like chocolate?”

She liked chocolate for a much darker reason, one unworthy of his presence, and she had no intention of telling him. Divina didn’t want to think about that, certainly not when she could think about Francis and his underwater rumblings.

“Divina?”

“Sorry, what did you say?” Gods, she was spacy today.

“I asked why you liked chocolate.”

“Someone was very kind to me once,” she said finally. Understatement of the millennium. “He gave me chocolate when I was in a very dark place, and ever since then I eat chocolate to remember him, to remind myself that the world is not all dark.”

“Oh.”

Divina gazed up at Francis to see his look of self-satisfaction. She thought over what she’d said…

“Not you! Someone else.”

“Oh.” His face fell, and she could have kicked herself.

“He—wasn’t a lover,” she clarified. At this point she might as well tell him about the officer that had unlocked her cage, carried her from the dark.

“Oh.” Francis returned to the cake, avoiding her gaze.

“I don’t actually know his name,” she continued as her face colored. Great, now I sound like a whore.

Which you were, part of her brain pointed out. Not willingly! she argued, though she knew it was pointless. Ugh, shut up!

She scrambled to salvaged the conversation. “He was a stranger, but a good person, and the reason I like chocolate.”

Wow, could you sound any more stupid?

Shut. Up. Brain.

“You’re right, and so was he.” Francis caught her eyes with his. “The world isn’t all dark.” He offered her the last bite of cake, and she took the bite from his fork without even thinking. It was rich and dark and moist, and, looking into Francis’s eyes, she wondered if he would taste like that…

Pull yourself together, Divvy! Inwardly, she shook herself, and fought the color rising in her cheeks, swallowing back the thoughts and cake as one.

She smiled weakly at him. Francis smiled back, and it was like being hit on the head with a brick. Gods, was he a beautiful male.

“Well.” Divina felt flushed and flustered. She stood. “I best get back to work.”

“I’ll walk with you.” Francis picked up the empty plate, preparing to return it to the wash bin near the door. She was grateful he hadn’t licked the plate. Seeing his tongue do that would have been her absolute undoing. As it was, she couldn’t take her eyes off his mouth when he sucked a smear of frosting off his finger after depositing the dirty dishes.

“Ready?” he asked unnecessarily.

She nodded, ducking her head to avoid his eyes. It was an awkward, silent ride in the lift to the manse Above. When the gate slid aside, they parted ways, Divina looking down and away, Francis waving cheerfully with his licked-clean fingers.

Scene Two, the “NSFW” Scene

The outside world faded away, the worries and what-ifs and insecurities vanished, swept out with the tide. His heart slowed and he heard in the new quiet of his mind that hers already matched his. He stood to one side, not between her and the door, but still beside her, and felt the path forward.

Reaching to her, he stroked his own electrical pulse along hers. She yielded to him, but retained her shape. As he probed, it pulled back, parting to make room for him, folding back around his phalanx approach. She was musky and bright, a softened citrus taste in his gills, warm like wax and sunlight, malleable but not weak, a sparkling lightning storm of stardust on his senses.

Never weak. Not you, my warrior star.

With the currents his Cetean ancestors passed on to him, he slid across her scars. Choreographed pelagic pressures flowed naturally through them, so that the sand around her calves billowed as he stroked her with Underwater ripples. Eddies tossed her fringe, waving gracefully, suspended and supported, but responsive to the sweeping brushstrokes of water.

Suspended and supported.

Francis watched her every motion, tasting the water with deep gulps, listening to every whistle and hum, scenting the drifts between them repeatedly to ensure that she was with him every moment. His electroreceptors crackled with her feedback, the push-pull of her want efflorescing, and so delicious to him. He drank in the yielding tilt of her head to expose her neck to his tide, carefully wrapping a ribbon of sensation around her throat where her own currents pulled him to do so. At one point, she even allowed him to wrap completely around her and press her breastbone, effectively creating an underwater brace from chin to chest. An embrace he felt with every cell of his own being.

Never did she stop looking into his eyes.

Each bubbling vocalization from her was another fracture to his heart’s restraints. Links in his emotional chains twisted and melted under the heat of her submission. Her every flex of scale sent submarine shockwaves through his soul, and he knew he was ruined.

Together, they bent the fluid around them and fed a rapid, rushing current to each other. The tourbillion of connection encapsulated their energy, a closed-circuit exchange of desire and delight. The brine around them jumped and sizzled as their rhythms aligned, heat the side effect of their elation.

When Francis felt he was on the edge of his self-possession, when Divina’s barbs had made furrows in the rock walls of his bedroom, when her body seemed wholly cartilaginous, he pushed water across his gills and whisper-whistled into the whirlpool around them, one word.

“Break.”

It was all she needed to shatter in the support he’d made for her.

Water pumped over her gill slits as she gasped and shook even harder. Her energy signals went wild, bubbles popping as she boiled the water where their electrosense boundaries touched, the ensuing roar of which was deafening. Her taste flooded the fluid around them, an intoxicating rush he could barely see through, except that her radiance flooded the room in a blinding wave of light.

Part of him howled to touch her, hold her, cradle her with his bare fins, but he knew if he did… Only one of them could break at a time. For this first time, anyway.

Her head lolled, but she never fought the tie. Her knees bent, but they never buckled. Her back arched, but never bent. Her eyelids flickered, but her awareness never ceased.

See, my shining star? he thought. You are whole yet, my warrior.

Thanks for reading! If you’d like to read the whole book, you can find it at your favorite digital store here. Please head on over to CE Groom’s instagram and give her art and books some love too!

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Chronological:

Passion’s Power, Heart’s Hold, Ocean’s Embrace, Sand’s Caress, Ink’s Grace, Ocean’s Kiss.

Order of publication:

Passion’s Power, Ocean’s Embrace, Sand’s Caress, Ink’s Grace, Heart’s Hold, Ocean’s Kiss.

My recommendation:

Ocean’s Embrace, Ocean’s Kiss, Sand’s Caress, Ink’s Grace, Passion’s Power, Heart’s Hold.

Do you have to read them in a particular order? No. Not at all. Did I write them to be interconnected stand-alones for that flexibility? Absolutely. Read as you will! As I get more books published, it will be easier to read in different ways. I’ll have naming conventions that make it clear which books feature which characters so you can decide what adventures you want to have. For example, all the “Ocean’s” books will be Leanne/Sven, all the “Sand’s” books will be Mirandha/Zane, and all the “Ink’s” books will be Divina/Francis. My hope is that you’ll be able to read by character more than just publication order or chronological order. (See? Trying to make the books user-friendly.)

And a final reminder you can find signed copies from both Salient Books and Smut Wagon!

Happy reading!

~Regina

Last year tickets sold out in 5 minutes, so be sure to follow these tips and tricks to have your best chance. Wishing you the best of luck!

As part of the event, I’ll be offering special signed book bundles with swag (stickers, art, that sort of thing). I’ll share the links to the pre-orders when those become available.

Hope to see you there!

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