The First is Always Special #MFRWAuthor

I have been writing most of my life. Although every story has a permanent place in my heart, House of the Rising Son is my favorite work. The obvious reason could be that it was my first traditionally published novel. Firsts always have a special place in your heart. But that isn’t the only reason it’s my favorite. It’s special to me because of Cheyenne. The original story was born in 1993. Cheyenne, the hero of the story, has changed over the years, and his family has had many incarnations. Some variations worked better than others. For example, Chey has always been a rockstar— the talent is in his blood—but being human didn’t seem to suit him.

Another aspect that has remained constant has been that this unlikely and totally unprepared rock star became a parent. His children’s ages, names, and even the number of his offspring have varied as Cheyenne’s world evolved. Only his reactions and judgments have changed. Consequently, some of Chey’s stories were adventures, others were love stories, most were funny and all were outrageous. He was not a hero to anyone or savior of anything in any of his previous lives.

When I decided to submit his story for publication and introduce him to the world, Cheyenne changed more than he ever had before. In House of the Rising Son I expanded the number of people in his life and focused less on his primary role as parent, instead focusing more on his role in the world as an important member of the Incubi Nation. Of course, he remained a rock star.

The sequel to House of the Rising Son is scheduled for publication later this year, with more books and short stories planned. It’s time for the rest of his story to be told. Then who know? Maybe his children’s stories will make their way into published works. I imagine it will be fun watching their stories unfold, too.

Cover Reveal: After Midnight-Prequel to House of the Rising Son

I’m excited to share the cover of my new novella, After Midnight, prequel to House of the Rising Son. It answers the question Who gave birth to Cheyenne’s children? 

Back Cover Blurb

Improbable love. Impossible life. Immeasurable danger.

Jewell’s stepfather thinks she’s worthless. She agrees. When she looks in the mirror she sees an overweight, overemotional, overeating mess who can’t keep her fangs to herself.

Ria hails from a family of old world vamps who'd be happy to share their wealth with her, if only she’d fall in line. Fat chance, especially since being in that line includes not being gay.

Being in love is easy for Ria and Jewell—the young vampires belong together like vodka and tomato juice. Adding Cheyenne, a talented and sexy incubus, to their union is the hot sauce in their Bloody Mary. The only problem? Vampires and incubi are mortal enemies.

Despite the odds Ria, Jewell and Cheyenne find their way to happiness. But Jewell is hiding a huge secret, one that defies the laws of procreation: She’s going to have a baby.

While she tries to figure out how to break the unbelievable news to her lovers, a horror from Jewell’s past slithers into her present, forcing choices no one should have to make.

Will it be love or death? Happiness or safety? She has until dawn to decide...and it's already After Midnight.



The choice between staying in on a Saturday night to clean and going to see Cheyenne at his first real gig hadn’t been a complicated decision. He was a world-class rocker who could play the guitar like a fiend and had a voice that made you feel…everything. Or made you horny. And damn if she didn’t love him. Damn incubus.

She reached across him and caressed Jewell’s side. Jewell’s eyes opened and she stared expressionless at the ceiling, hyper-alert to danger. It always took a few moments after resurrecting for her to remember where she was and who was with her, but since moving into their new home it seemed to take even longer.

Ria sighed. She’d do anything if it would help Jewell feel safe enough to die each dawn and awaken peacefully. “All is well, Babydoll. It’s just me. Time to rise and twinkle with the stars.”

“Already?” Jewell scrunched her eyes and blinked as if trying to focus them.

Cheyenne lay his head on the soft swell of Jewell’s belly. “Didn’t we just go to bed?”

Ria kissed his back and licked a slow trail down his spine. “Hours ago. Did we tucker out the poor little sex demon?”

“Not hardly, dead girl.”

She grabbed a fistful of his hair and turned him to face her. “That’s undead girl, thank you.” She bit his lower lip and let it drag between her teeth. “Show us what you’ve got left.”


After Midnight will be available on Amazon on October 3.

A Night at Lady Jane's Salon

To places near or far, my partner and I love to travel. I especially love the adventures I get to have as a newly published author, meeting readers and finding comraderie with fellow writers. Last Monday  was one such adventure. I was scheduled to read an except from my book, HOUSE OF THE RISING SON at Lady Jane's Salon in New York City. Since parking in the city can be a nightmare, we decided to take the train--and because we are pathologically early we timed the trip to include a two hour window to relax before we needed to be at the venue.

We neglected to factor in the "police activity at the Botanical Gardens", which was announced over the train's loudspeaker. At the first notice that the train would be delayed, we smugly congratulated ourselves for building in ample time for just such emergencies.

When not at a complete stop, the train inched along. We checked our watches compulsively, growing more anxious as the minutes ticked away. Finally, we arrived at Grand Central Station at precisely the time we should have been walking into the doors of Lady Jane's.

Our short little legs sprinted to the street for a taxi, not bothering to stop at a restroom despite a desperate need to do just that. Given my increasing stress level (due in part to all of the police activity lining the streets and part to the sands of time streaming to the bottom of the hour glass), it's a wonder I didn't have an accident.

Speaking of accidents, once in the taxi we seemed to court death and barely avoided hitting pedestrians as they nonchalantly crossed the terrifyingly busy streets. Apparently NYC folks believe that if they don't look at the vehicle or driver, they won't get hit. New Yorkers, I offer you a word of advice: Do not visit Connecticut. Just stay home. Hit and runs are a pastime here. The streets are not your friends.

Miraculously we made it to Madame X's, the sexy, sultry bar that hosts Lady Jane's. To enter, you have to walk down a short flight of stairs to a door below street level. Once in the club, you have to walk up a long flight of stairs to the Salon.


The space for the reading was cozy, filled with low, ornate sofas and an eclectic array of chairs tucked into dark alcoves around the room. At the far end of the room and up a short wrought iron stair case was the small stage.

There was a great deal of excitement in the air, as the night also celebrated Lady Jane's seventh year. The room was packed with readers, writers and other industry professionals. Representatives from Women in Need, a nonprofit organization serving homeless women and children were on hand to receive a contribution from Lady Jane's. A contingent from Tor Forge Books was there to support their author Katie Lynch, and sponsor the anniversary celebration. In addition to Katie and me, Hope Tarr (Lady Jane co-founder), Leanna Renee Hieber (Lady Jane co-founder) and Lauren Willig were on hand to read excerpts from their works.

I'm not going to lie to you. I was so nervous. I mean...who the hell am I to think I belong among these multi-published, award winning authors? But I did it. I read the first chapter of my book and guess what? I didn't faint, and the audience laughed in all the right places. Maybe they liked it. Liked me?

After the readings and a champagne toast (courtesy of Tor), people headed downstairs to the bar. We debated grabbing something to eat, or going home. Home won.

By three a.m. the adventure was over and we were back in Connecticut, humbly walking our dogs and dreading the six a.m. alarm. Back to the day job.