Friday, 27 March 2015

Coming April 3, 2015 Romancing the Author~

Romancing the Author

A Special 1NS for 
Romancing the Capital Convention 
happening in Ottawa April 17th & 18, 2015!!!

NFL star, Connor Caine has given up on romance. Starved for a real woman with curves, intellect, and a sharp wit, he exchanges playful messages with an online crush. But when he can’t connect with her, he’s urged to seek out a 1Night Stand while in the Canadian capital for business.

Steamy sex is plentiful for author Gemma Daveen—at least on the pages she writes. Publicized as happily married, she has kept a few well-hidden secrets. But her publicist knows better, and ravenous for sexual reprieve, Gemma soon finds herself booked for a 1Night Stand during a romance convention in Ottawa.

Connor: Do you wear jeans, Gemma?
Gemma: Sure, all the time. They’re 90 percent of my wardrobe, LOL. Why?
Connor: I’ve got a thing for belt loops.
Gemma: What do you mean? And were they crossing a line?
Connor: Have you ever had a guy slip his fingers into the belt loops of your jeans and pull you so close to him, he could taste your lips?
Gemma: No, but I like the sound of that. Had she really typed that?
Conner: Maybe one day, I can pull you by the belt loops.

Three hours flew by and, finally, despite her fascination, her eyelids grew heavy
Connor: I have a confession to make. I’ve bought your books and read them. You’re such a gifted author.
Gemma: You have? Her breath hitched.
Connor: Yes! I can’t get enough of your stories. You’re brilliant.
Gemma: Thank you. A weak response given he had just hit her cerebral G-spot. Conner loved her writing? He’d read her books? Incredible. No longer tired, she held her hands over the keyboard.
Gemma: I…have to come clean with something, too.
Connor: What?
All or nothing.
Gemma: I’m a sapiosexual.
Connor: Come again?
Gemma: A person sexually attracted to the intelligence in others. She held her breath for his response.
Connor: And where do I fit into this orientation of yours?
Butterflies somersaulted in her stomach.
Gemma: Top of the list.



Time for a very special giveaway! 

Kali's website has been given a little face lift.

One lucky contestant who checks out KALI WILLOW's website and finds the hidden 

"Rafflecopter link will win one autographed print copy of their choice of 

As Angels Weep-Supernatural, 

Double Dragon's Blood Anthology 


Shadowed Desires!

I won't tell you what page it's have to scan through 

the site to find it. There are more chances than one to enter! 

May the odds be in your favor!



Contest runs from March 27 - April 11th 2015!!!

Thursday, 12 March 2015

$0.99 Sale for a limited time only!




“It’s not the time we have in life.

it’s what we do with it & the impact we have on others.

That is our true legacy.”

                                                                                                Kali Willows

What Critics are saying

"As Angels Weep charms its reader with a tarnished hero they come to cheer for. His tumultuous journey is thrilling & exciting." - Author, Kacey Hammell


A smooth talker with the ladies, Luther Evans has all the right moves and all the wrong motives. Swindling wealthy women and making shady business deals, he strings along his girlfriend with promises of commitment and a flashy diamond engagement ring, despite his playboy antics. Karma cashes in when he gets an outrageous wakeup call from a messenger of death. Soon after, he’s plagued by a bizarre string of deadly accidents he narrowly escapes until the final incident. His narcissistic ways must suddenly change—when he dies! Faced with the prospect of spiritual exile, our hero finds himself on an urgent mission to save his soul.

Matched with his ethereal guide, Gabrielle, a disinclined archangel who is a bit of a prankster, Luther faces temptation and obstacles no mere mortal can overcome. On this perilous journey for his pursuit of salvation, she tries to teach him the value of humanity. Will Luther strike out and lose his soul on the road to redemption? Can Gabrielle save him from eternal damnation despite the forces that try to stop them?


Penance was inconsequential to me once upon a time. For the first time in my life, it means everything. My soul depends on it. For years, I swindled wealthy women, made shady business deals that caused harm to others. In just seven days, I face spiritual exile. Doomed to purgatory for my past deeds and failure to live my humanity. My one chance at salvation? I have one assignment to complete, with rules, very strict rules, and unspeakable consequences if I fail. Whoever said good guys finish last was sadly mistaken. I'd never been a good guy. Now, I have to be one if I want redemption.


Is this night ever gonna end?
“Sooner than you think,” a woman’s whisper filled his ear.
Luther spun, but the hallway was empty. Great, he could add a little auditory hallucination to top the evening off. The phone buzzed in his hand again.
Sorry, buddy, Beth’s home so you can’t come here tonight. Jazz told her everything. She’s pissed off. You should stay at the Plaza. Let me know when you get there, I’ll pop over.
“Perfect,” he grumbled.
No way would he go back to the house tonight, not while she packed to leave. He didn’t want to deal with the aftermath. Getting out of pinches was his forte, not facing them.
To go to his father’s was out of the question. Even if Jasmine hadn’t already told him everything, the need to explain why he had to crash overnight held no appeal and no reprieve for Luther.
Marvin was right. The Plaza seemed like the only viable solution.
Sure, I’ll head there. Should be a half hour or so. Gonna have a bite to eat and hit the sack. I’m wiped out. Luther finished the text then tucked his phone into his coat and took his keys out. He pressed the elevator button with a heavy sigh.
The clanking metal door dragged open with an irksome ding. Empty. At least he didn’t have to paint on a smile. He inched into the grimy box and pressed P5. A bed was all he needed tonight, and no people to mingle with. The door scraped along the frame as it closed then got stuck only six inches before shutting.
Gimme a break.” He shoved his hand through to push it open. Immovable, the cold metal resisted. Anger flooded him, and he kicked the door while wrestling it back and forth, trying to get it to move. Without warning, the elevator door slammed shut. He yanked his hand back in the nick of time, saving his fingers from getting crushed. Luther’s chest pounded, and a rush of sweat covered his forehead.
That was close.” A sharp jolt shook the elevator. Rattling sounded overhead, like a loose cable. The air grew thick. He couldn’t breathe. Am I about to meet my maker? He snagged at the collar of his shirt then clicked the button again and again for the main floor, but the death trap door didn’t budge. He stilled, terrified to shift in case something broke in the dilapidated wreck.
The quiet besieged him and rang in his ears. He waited, his pulse raced, his heartbeat thrummed behind his ears.
Luther sidestepped slowly to the console. He pushed the open button once again. It still didn’t work. “I can’t believe this,” he hissed. Pins and needles filled his toes, traveling up his legs, followed by a prickling along his skin.
Desperation mounted and he pressed every button on the board, hoping something would free him. Then, a grinding sound, followed by the sudden plummeting, and his stomach bottomed out with the weightlessness.
No! The elevator plunged downward. Images flashed through his mind and words filled his head: If you wrong another person, you will die.
Is my nightmare crossing into reality?
With a frightful jerk, the elevator stopped and the door slid open. Stunned, he fixed his stare at the number P5, glowing above him. Luther bolted out of the elevator, and the door eased closed behind him with the tactless chime sounding again.
Speechless, even in his own mind, he fumbled with his keys and pressed the alarm button, triggering piercing chirps and flashing lights down at the end of the row. The commotion revealed his car in the sea of metal and wheels. Clicking the alarm off, he walked down the concrete path to the respite of his trusty BMW.
The sudden screech of tires ricocheted throughout the lot. It grew louder and closer as he walked the length of the parking garage. Luther spied the fast approaching car and jumped out of the path of the oncoming vehicle. The car full of teens sped away, with only the bass of blaring music sounding with rhythmic thuds, muffled by the closed windows.
Great. On top of the rest of the night, I’m paranoid, too. Weariness washed over him. He reached his silver car and climbed in.