Wednesday, January 21, 2015

Twelve Smokin' Hot Cowboy Books! #NewRelease

cowboy 12 pack new release banner.jpg

Cowboy 12 Pack: Twelve-Novel Boxed Set

Releases Today!

by USA Today, NYT and Amazon Bestselling Authors:

Cynthia D'Alba, Paige Tyler, Elle James, Donna Michaels, Shoshanna Evers, Randi Alexander, Cora Seton, Beth Williamson, Sabrina York, Sable Hunter, Lexi Post, Becky McGraw


Buy Links:

Release Party:

Giveaway including $100 Amazon gift card:

html embed code for the rafflecopter:
<a class="rcptr" href="" rel="nofollow" data-raflid="73980ee919" data-theme="classic" data-template="" id="rcwidget_p2a3e7dh">a Rafflecopter giveaway</a>
<script src="//"></script>

Facebook Page:
10690141_901008006577554_843055663587246649_n (1).jpg
If you love sexy cowboy romance books, get ready for a 12-pack of 'em from New York Times and USA Today bestselling authors!

A COWBOY'S SEDUCTION - Award-Winning Author Cynthia D'Alba - Sparks fly when an exhausted cowboy, on a forced tropical vacation, meets an uptight accountant in a bikini. As the seduction game begins, two weeks never looked so short.

SADIE AND HER COWBOY - USA Today Bestselling Author Paige Tyler - A beautiful ranch owner hires an infamous gunslinger to protect her against a ruthless cattle baron, but risks losing everything when she falls for the sexy hired gun

THE BILLIONAIRE HUSBAND TEST - NYT & USA Today Bestselling Author Elle James - Skeptical billionaire takes a risk on a friend's dating service and finds the cowgirl of his dreams, only he has to convince her he's her perfect match.

HER UNIFORM COWBOY - Donna Michaels - Texas Guardsman never planned his attraction to a curvy, military-hating Pennsylvanian, or saddling her with his stress issues. Will the town’s newest resident support him, or abandon him like others in his past?

I AM NOT YOUR MELODY - NYT & USA Today Bestselling Author Shoshanna Evers - The baddest cowboy in Bear Creek Saddle partners with a sassy new bartender to save the family business. His rules: Don’t kill her. Don’t kiss her. And don’t fall in love.

CHASE AND SEDUCTION - USA Today Bestselling Author Randi Alexander - Country music superstar Chase Tanner is determined to seduce screenplay writer Reno Linden. She risks the plunge into Chase’s arms, but will their attraction survive the glitz and stress of fame?

THE COWBOY WINS A BRIDE - NYT & USA Today Bestselling Author Cora Seton –Jamie Lassiter just made the bet of his life—He’s got six weeks to prove to Claire Cruz he’s the man for her, or pay for her round-the-world trip.

THE HARDER THEY FALL - Beth Williamson - Cowboy Hank Beltane has no idea what's in store for him when he tries to seduce the stubborn, beautiful and sexy as hell rodeo owner TJ Maguire.

THE REAL MCCOY - NYT & USA Today Bestselling Author Sabrina York - At a wild, girls-only weekend at a rowdy “stud” ranch, she meets the gruff, dominant man of her dreams. It’s too bad the sexy stripper is only a pretend cowboy…or is he?

BADASS - Amazon Bestselling Author Sable Hunter - Isaac McCoy - Badass Isaac McCoy, as at home on a Harley as he is on a horse, is in love with the preacher's daughter— the angel of Kerr County—and that will never do.

COWBOYS NEVER FOLD – Award-Winning Author Lexi Post – When a cowboy honors a promise by working at a nudist resort, he discovers that to win the sexy owner's heart he must go all-in, which could mean baring more than his soul.

CUPID'S COWBOY - Amazon Bestselling Author Becky McGraw - Struggling country singer is struck by cupid’s arrow when delivering a breakup singing telegram on Valentine's Day to a beautiful music exec who could make all his dreams come true.

cowboy banner.jpg

Coming Soon From S.M. Shade: Infinite Ties, All That Remains: Book 3

Now available for pre order:


The more you look to the future, the more the past pursues you. 

Abby, Airen, and Joseph have fought and suffered to come together. All they want is to move forward and raise their family with the love they never had. 
Unfortunately, the re-appearance of former friends and enemies complicates their lives, threatening to expose closely guarded secrets. With a vital rescue looming, their relationship isn’t the only thing at risk. Can they let go of the past in order to hang on to a future with each other? 

This is the conclusion of the All That Remains Trilogy.

Author Bio:

S. M. Shade is a homeschooling mom hopelessly addicted to Dr. Pepper, love stories, sunshine, and men with full sexy lips, though not necessarily in that order. A voracious reader since sounding out her first word, she started writing as a teenager and rediscovered her love of writing as an adult. Originally from Indianapolis, she now lives in a small Kentucky town with her teenage son.

Buy Links to all three books

The Last Woman, All That Remains : Book One

Falling Together, All That Remains : Book Two

Infinite Ties, All That Remains : Book Three

Stalking Links

Newsletter :

Tuesday, January 20, 2015

Leave Me Out of Your Goodreads Games

Many people know that I'm always (literally) willing to help someone out. Whether you are an author, reader, blogger or none of the above-- I'll do what I can. Because I understand what it's like to have nothing, be nothing and to have your back against the wall.

I don't ask for much. Just be truthful. To me it isn't difficult to be honest. Am I wrong? If you come to me in need, honesty should be a no-brainer. But I wasn't very honest in leaving a rating either, was I?

Alas, I was pulled into a situation again. An author upset. She felt Goodreads had wronged her. Highly upset, she reached out to me for help. I was told Goodreads had wronged her and refused to cooperate with a book listing and that the rules lists weren't even working links. Goodreads had "made it impossible to remove a book that had been 1* attacked." Okay. It's there for a reason (my thoughts).

I happens.

I was told that her problem was with the system itself. Understandable. No system is perfect. Maybe there's room for improvement? Maybe this booklet would help address some of these issues?
So, of course, friendly-little-pathetic Madison...rushes to help an injured soul.

Did I think for one minute that I hadn't gotten the entire story? No. Did I even consider this person would use my good nature to help them achieve their agenda? No.

Do you know why?

Because I was too busy. I don't sit around on the computer all day long every day. I don't follow the drama on ANY site.

And because after 40+ years of dealing with and seeing insufferable, selfish, lying, deceitful people...I still choose to believe in the good.

What a fucking joke.

I left a rating for a booklet that I honestly didn't have time to read. Keep in mind...I was trying to help with what I thought was an author who was truly concerned about TECHNICAL issues of Goodreads, i.e; missing links to rules...yada yada. In NO WAY did I think this was about ATTACKING Goodreads users, readers or librarians. That's not how I am. IF I HAD KNOWN this was the agenda...I would NOT have left a rating that was practically badgered out of me.

That rating, in turn, put me on some not-so-nice lists on Goodreads. At that point in time, red flags...HUGE, flashing, neon flags were everywhere. I'd stepped in a huge, steaming pile.
Once I began to dig through what was happening (and believe me the pile is massive), I unearthed the dirty laundry. The REAL truth. And that truth pisses me off.

It's bad enough when something like a flood of  "one stars" occurs to an author... Any author. But that's part of this life. No author wants their work to be sandbagged all over the internet. But when you cannot be HONEST about what REALLY happened with someone who is nice enough to bend over backwards, by UNKNOWINGLY putting their neck on the line in a situation that the person didn't even know was so completely fucked and volatile, that makes you, the one who asked for help, a Class A jerk.

What did I find, you ask?
1. The author wasn't a SHE. That, in itself, pissed me off to no end.The author was someone I know but I hadn't known they'd began to use another personality.
(Lying about who you are sets my ass on fire.)

2. The author didn't disclose all that had happened. I wasn't told about some long, drawn out problem. Ever. I had no clue about any fighting, any drama. How was I supposed to know to look elsewhere for information if I didn't know this person wasn't who they claimed to be? Again...I didn't have, nor did I take the time beforehand to dig into this.

3. This author apparently has more than one account on Goodreads. Also not something I knew. So now, I've found multiple instances of deceipt, lying and fakery.

(I go to Goodreads, leave my ratings and reviews, enter giveaways, check my messages and leave. I've tried the groups but I'm not super outgoing. Sorry...that's the truth.)

4. After reading the MANY comments and reviews of this booklet, it became clear that my good nature, my willingness to help another human being had been exploited. By a liar.

5. The reviewers were questioning why I had left a rating since I was obviously active on Goodreads.  Well, that question sort of answers itself. I'm active on Goodreads, a place to rate and review books. Pretty explanatory. But I didn't understand why they were questioning it until the dirt kept piling up. Believe I know what you meant.

See, I believed I was just dropping a rating. That was all. Something that people...authors, reviewers, readers and bloggers do on a daily basis to help their friends, fans, groups etc. Many times, people don't read the books they rate. It happens. After all, I've seen my books get placed on not-so-desirable shelves a lot this week solely based on the fact that I...stupid, gullible Madison, decided to drop a rating on an asinine booklet that was apparently meant to cause a monsoon of trouble that I had no idea was brewing off the coast of Readerville. Now, I have to deal with the consequences... shelved because I helped someone without knowing all of the facts.

So, I'd like to take a moment to thank that author. Thank you so much for lying to me. Thank you for pulling me into a situation because you knew I'd help based on how nice of a person I am. Thanks for letting me get involved in a situation that is now irreversible for me. Thank you for helping me piss off a ton of people I've never met and now they'll most likely never read my books because they've put me in the same category as you. Thank you for helping me to look like a complete fool because I obviously didn't do a good enough job of it on my own. Last, but not least, thank you for helping me to finally see how utterly stupid it is of me to believe in the good in people.

My eyes are wide open now. I truly hope you can sleep at night knowing you pulled the wool over my eyes. I hope you enjoy knowing you duped an honest person, a person who would never do that to someone else. Bravo.

But can I really blame this author and this author alone? No. It's my own damn fault for trying to be nice. I'm not saying I'll never help someone again. However, I won't do a damn thing without finding out every possible detail before I do.

My apologies to anyone that my rating may have offended. It's my own fault for not reading the booklet, for not researching what had happened and my rating was in no way a personal attack or affront to anyone. Not intentionally anyways. 

A final note to the author in question:
My rating has been removed.
Leave me out of your damn Goodreads games.

Another author friend has been dealing with another type of dubious behavior and you can read all about it here:

Thursday, January 15, 2015

Demon Spelled Release Day Blast With Gracen Miller:

WARNING: This novel is intended for mature audiences, ages 18+ years of age and is not for the faint of heart.

Some doors should never be opened...

As the daughter of a witch, Erica knows better than to treat the arcane lightly. But when her best friend convinces her to play a dangerous game, she quickly finds herself out of her depth. Before she can react, she and Tera are whisked into a terrifying demonic realm and chained to an auction block.

...And some doors fate opens for us.

The moment Troz sees the fiery redheaded human, he knows she's exactly what he's been looking for. He purchases her from the slave auction and takes her home as a gift to his husband, Lyx. Her witch blood makes her the perfect mother for their demonic offspring, but her indomitable spirit also provides a refreshing challenge. Despite the slave collar that binds her her will, she resists their advances in every way possible. Both masters must use every ounce of their skill and talents to bend their new concubine to their desires.

Only Erica can decide which path leads to her destiny.

Meanwhile, in the shadows, angels are making a play for Erica's safe return. She is disturbed to learn her long-lost father is an archangel with a twisted agenda. Her masters can offer her salvation from her father's plans, but can she trust them? Should she remain their sex slave forever, or gamble on an uncertain fate without the dark pleasures they've taught her to crave?

“MOM’LL KILL US if she learns what we’re about to do.” Erica wiped sweaty palms on jean-clad thighs. When Sybil got wind of this…she exhaled a worried breath. Hell. To. Pay. Something insignificant like age wouldn’t matter.
An antique Ouija board rested on the bed between her and Tera, her best friend of ten years. Tera was a “vintage archeologist”, a classier distinction to her BFF than antique collector. Semantics in Erica’s opinion with the end results the same. As a successful antique store owner Tera could call herself whatever she wanted.
Her bestie placed the pointer—what Erica’s mom called a planchette—on the center of the board. The letters were etched into the cherry wood. Elaborate and beautiful. A fine piece of workmanship.
Erica ran her fingertips along the wood, which created a weird static against the pads.
A nagging sensation throbbed at the base of her cranium. A lifetime of witchcraft lessons implied she should shut down this adventure. Pronto! But the excitement in her girlfriend’s eyes…yeah, sometimes peer pressure was a bitch even at her age.
“Sybil will never find out.” Tera waggled her fingers at her and made cheesy ghostly noises.
She gave Tera ‘the look’. Saying her mom wouldn’t find out was like pretending Santa didn’t know what you’d been up to all year. Being the local witch, her mom wasn’t just feigning to practice the arts, but was damned good at them.
“Okay, fine.” Tera rolled her blue eyes and notched her chin-length blonde hair behind an ear. Too many times over their ten-year friendship Erica had coveted her friend’s appearance, wishing she possessed the same sultry attributes. Guilt snagged on her envy, but what woman wouldn’t prefer to look like her friend? Drop-dead gorgeous and sexy too…oh, yeah, she wouldn’t mind finding out how the prettier half lived. “By the time Sybil finds out, it’ll be too late.”
Wouldn’t stop her parent from chewing her ear off when she discovered what forces they dabbled with. Didn’t matter that Erica was a grown woman in her twenties either. Trivial things like age meant jack-squat to her nosy-body mother.
“Don’t think Sybil won’t turn us over her knee and blister our asses.” She gave Tera an exaggerated wink.
“I’m twenty-three years old!”
“Yeah. So?”
Tera slapped her leg. “Stop your drama, bitch. Let’s booty-tap the spirit world.”
I hope the spirit world doesn’t booty-tap our asses back. These weren’t forces to idly toy with.
Together they placed their fingers on the pointer.
“Anyone here?” Tera’s voice carried.
“A little louder. I don’t think the neighbors heard you.”
Her friend poked her tongue out and waited, peering about the room as if a spirit would show itself from one of the four corners. Nothing materialized. The planchette remained motionless. Not even a creak in the old home sounded.
“Are we alone?” No movement. “Yo’, Casper! Chat with us. Or are you scared?” Said with Southern slang—skeered.
“Don’t antagonize them.” One thing Sybil had taught Erica was to never piss off spirits. Respect them and they’d respect you.
“You try it, then, Ms. Know-it-all.”
Erica rolled her eyes, but nerves guised as cold gooseflesh puckered her skin. “Anyone with us? We invite you to join…us.”
‘Join’ wasn’t the wisest solicitation. The object of the Ouija was to keep the spirits on their side of the board. Not summon them to crossover, which she just did with her unwise word choice.
Too late now.
The Ouija fogged over, and for a second she thought she caught a glimpse of another dimension. What she saw was unlike anything she’d ever imagined.
Erica knocked Tera’s hands off the wooden pointer, snatched up the spirit mouthpiece and snapped it in half as easily as she would plastic. “No more of that!”
That she was capable of breaking the voice of the souls was alarming. The wooden pointer should’ve been more rugged. Whatever they’d connected with obviously didn’t want them to socialize with others and had helped assist her destruction. They needed to get to Sybil and fast.
Slack-jawed her BFF gaped as she held up the two broken pieces. “What’s gotten into you? I can’t sell it broken.”
“We summoned trouble.”
“No ghost appeared. The pointer definitely didn’t move. No creepy noises and nope, I’m pretty sure the lights didn’t flicker.”
Erica glared at her friend. “Can the sarcasm.” In real life she’d never seen lights flicker. Spirits were too refined for theatrics better left in the movies. “I got a peek at the realm we opened.” She shuddered. Scary failed to paint an accurate description.
“Now who’s being dramatic?” Her na├»ve bestie dropped the planchette on the board. “This shit’s fake, and you owe me a replacement.”
“I’m calling Sybil.” Erica scrambled off the bed and snatched her cell off the dresser.
“She’ll kill us, Erica.” Tera pushed the two pieces of the pointer around on the board as Erica speed dialed.
“What happened to ‘this shit’s fake’?” Sybil was the least of their concerns. The spirit realm they’d contacted hadn’t looked pleasant. “Whatever we set free—”
“Me.” A deep, foreign-sounding, male voice emerged from the dark corner.
Erica spun around and almost tripped over the rug. As the intruder emerged from the darkness, Tera screamed and scuttled backward across the bed before slamming into the headboard.
Red-skinned, with a set of gray horns protruding from his forehead, his straight green hair hung to his chin. Eyes shimmered like prisms in sunlight. “Imagine my surprise when a witch invited me to play.”
“I’m not a witch,” Erica said automatically.
“And I’m not a demon.” In a move so fast and fluid she didn’t have time to react, he seized the cell from her grasp and snapped a black bracelet on her wrist. The moment the locks engaged on the band, hieroglyphs burned on the surface like lava. “Hello, Mom,” he said into the receiver of her cell, snatching her focus off the armlet. “She’s already mine. I officially registered her as a sex slave.”
Sex slave? Registered? No fucking way!
Erica clawed at the band on her wrist. The contraption didn’t budge, not even to slip further on her arm. And the more she studied it, the less it looked like a bracelet, but more like a tattoo. Except the lava hieroglyphs continued to smolder-like magma. The slight burn on her skin testified to the validity of the lava-like appearance.
The demon held the phone away from his ear, grimacing at the volume of her mother’s voice.
Erica made a go for the door.
“Knees,” he said in his thick accent, and she obeyed instantly, hitting the floor hard, her knees protesting with pain that jarred up her spine.
Shit! So not good.
“Sybil…shut up.”
Erica’s eyes widened at his tone. No one talked to her mother like that. And how’d he know her name?
“It’s Horace, you know how this works.”
Erica wished someone would tell her.
He shook his finger—correction talon—at Tera, and her friend froze, abandoning her inching across the bed. “By nightfall tomorrow she’ll be sold and bedded. If it takes that long, which is unlikely.”
Bile slammed to the back of her throat, and she forced it down with a gulp. She wouldn’t panic. Not yet.
“You want to free her from enslavement, bid the highest number of souls.” A long moment of silence as the demon stared at her and grinned at whatever her mother said. “‘Tis a pity you don’t barter in souls, Sybil.” He didn’t look disappointed, but rather pleased. “I would’ve enjoyed working out a deal with you.” The gleam in his eyes confirmed his statement. “Her friend is going with me. I’ll sell them as a set…or I have a few demons who are into human sex-pain play.”
Tera clenched her hands over her ears and sobbed as she rocked back and forth, hitting the headboard with each backward sway. The demon tossed the cell to the floor, his gaze sealed on Erica.
“L-leave Tera, and I’ll go with you willingly.” Foolish to sacrifice herself, but as unprepared as she was to enter a demonic realm, Tera was woefully ill-equipped for all things demon.
“Declined.” His dark pea-colored lips pulled into a satisfied smirk. “You’re going willingly either way.”
He retrieved the Ouija board and threw it against the wall. The witchboard stuck as if nailed to the spot. A moment afterward another demon stepped out of a portal. This one royal blue, with no horns, and average brown hair. The new demon tossed Tera over his shoulder, but her friend had already shut down mentally, babbling about lucid dreams, unwise choices, and stupid board games.
Horace—what an average name for a scary-ass demon!—offered Erica his hand. When she hesitated, he nodded at the bracelet. “It won’t allow you to refuse my commands.”
Determined to brazen her way through her predicament she rose to her feet. This couldn’t be real. This couldn’t be happening to her. Please, please, please let this be a nightmare.
“You’re mistaken if you believe I’ll allow anyone to turn me into a demon sex slave.” Too bad her voice shook and her knees wobbled, threatening to put her flat on her ass.
With a chuckle, the demon caught her against him and swung her into his arms. “You’re mistaken if you believe you have a choice.”
Arrogant bastard!
She closed her eyes as they went through the portal to a hell of her own making. A few seconds later she found her back against a cool, stone wall. Cold temps weren’t what she expected in a demonic realm.
Horace peered at Erica as he braced her hands against the wall above her head. His impersonal touch was unsettling, especially when his eyes said an entirely different thing. Alarmed by his interest, she became more resolved to defy him.
“Get your hands off me.” Getting the demand past the sudden lump in her throat proved difficult, and her voice came out hoarse.
“Behave.” Through her jeans he cupped her crotch. She gasped at his highhanded manner, but before she could mandate he remove his hand from her body, he backed away. “I’m not sure if I should be disappointed or pleased you’re a virgin.” He cocked his head, his green hair parting over his shoulder. “You’ll bring me too many souls as a virgin to possess you myself.”
Her eyes grew round at his statement. He could assess her virginity by a simple touch? Relief flooded her. At least she wouldn’t be forced to endure sex with this douchebag. In short time her mother would rescue her, and Erica would ridicule the demon for underestimating Sybil’s superior sorcery.
She parted her lips to enlighten him on the benefits of returning her to her parent straightway, but he cut her off by holding up his hand. “Whatever you have to say is inconsequential.”
“My mother will make you regret this. And I’ll laugh in your face when she does.”
“She has no power here.” Horace ran a claw along her chin. “I’ll be the only one laughing when you’re sold and my bank account is fat.”
Pride locked her jaw and kept her from displaying her fear in the face of a predator. No point in arguing with an imbecile. He’d discover the validity of her words soon enough.
“Pity you’re chaste. To have had both the mother and daughter would’ve been a feather in my hat.”
“You lie! Sybil would never screw someone as filthy as you.”
“One more word out of you, and I’ll put that mouth and tongue to better use.” He palmed his crotch, and she bit the inside of her cheek to stifle a retort. The conceited asshole smirked. “Thought so.” He fondled himself through his pants.
Shocked by his baseness she gaped at him.
He leaned nearer and sniffed her neck. “And if I’m not mistaken, that angel Sybil ran around with for a while is your father.” His facts were incorrect. She was not a witch or an angel. “Want to know the only good thing about angel offspring…the nephilim?”
Something about the gleam in his eyes suggested she wouldn’t like whatever he divulged, so she held her tongue and offered him a hostile glare as a response.
Horace slammed his hand on her neck, and she gasped as he squeezed. “I asked you a question.”
“Yeah,” she choked out.
He relaxed his grip. “They’re blood is toxic to almost all demons.”
“You have someone you want to murder?” She couldn’t imagine any other reason why he shared this information.
A lopsided smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, but the artifice failed to reach his eyes. “I have a few calls to make. You should be sold by nightfall.”
Erica trembled at the idea of someone buying her like a common house pet. She had no idea where Tera had been taken or even if she remained unharmed. Instincts had warned her not to engage the Ouija board. She should’ve listened. No point in crying over the past. Survival was priority…but if Sybil’s rescue bombed, would Erica endure the claiming of a demon? Would she want to? Were they even built like human men? And what if she was toxic to the demon that bought her? What were the ramifications for a human who unintentionally felled one of them? She had a sneaky suspicion the outcome wouldn’t benefit her.
She choked on tears, biting the inside of her mouth until she tasted blood and the need to cry passed. Waterworks were a weakness she couldn’t afford.

Gracen is a hopeless daydreamer masquerading as a “normal” person in southern society. When not writing, she’s a full-time basketball/lacrosse/guitar mom for her two sons and a devoted wife to her real-life hero-husband of over twenty years. She has an unusual relationship with her muse, Dom, but credits all her creative success to his brilliant mind. She’s addicted to writing, paranormal romance novels and movies, Alabama football, and coffee...addictions are not necessarily in order of priority. She’s convinced coffee is nectar from the gods and when blending coffee and writing together it generates the perfect creative merger. Many of her creative worlds are spawned from coffee highs and Dom’s aggressive demands. Gracen writes is multiple genres—paranormal romance, paranormal erotic romance, and contemporary romance. To learn more about Gracen or to leave her a comment, visit her website at    

Twitter: @GracenMiller