Monday, July 20, 2015

Death Sword Character Mini Retro Interview: Samael

Out of all the characters in Death Sword, Samael has proven to be the most infuriating and confounding I've ever created. Initially the antagonist, he's demanded to tell his side of the story, and has ended up becoming an impact character, as well as somewhat of an anti-hero in Serpent Fire and Devil Inside, two current WIPs that follow Death Sword.

The following is an interview written while I was creating the characters. Of course, Samael would only think it appropriate I interview him first.

Q. What do you want to accomplish?

A.  I want Xariel back. The Seraphim forced us apart, but they forget that when I want something, I won't give up until I get it.

Q. There are those who say you use your powers to control and manipulate Xariel and his new partner, Karla.

A.  Look, you have to understand something. Xariel and I were lovers a long time ago. And then he left me. Just like that. Do you know what rejection feels like? Then Metatron decides this half-human, half-angel girl is worthy of being an angel of death? Please! It's an insult to me and others of my kind. At least I have pride, even if no one else does. All I'm doing is making sure others remember their place.

Q.  What about Azrael? Rumor has it you put a binding spell on him and exiled him to his island of apple orchards.

A.  Well, there it is. I'm obviously not the cruel angel you think if I put him under "house arrest" as it were. So yes, I did put a binding spell on him. But he tried to cross me and turn Metatron and the other angels of death against me. He forgot my role as chief of satans. Just because God gave him the role as archangel of death was no reason to try to usurp my role under Metatron.

Q.  Despite your difficult relationships with the other angels, you seem to get along with Metatron, despite your differences.

A.  Definitely. He relates to us, doesn't think he's superior, despite his rank as king of angels.

Q.  Thank you for your time.

A.  You're welcome.

Death Sword Blurb:

The only thing more dangerous than an angel of death is one obsessed with vengeance. 

Karla Black has always known she's different from other people. She learns just how different after she's fatally stabbed and brought back to life as a half-human angel of death.With new found power comes a new found boss. Samael despises her. He considers Karla impure and resents her relationship with her partner Xariel. . .who also happens to be Samael's ex-lover. When he takes that hatred to a higher level, Karla vows vengeance – a task easier said than done. 

With the loss of their angelic powers, Karla and Xariel face a dilemma – how will they defeat an unstoppable Samael, whose poisoned rapier can kill human and angel alike? 

If Karla doesn't awaken to her true identity, both heaven and earth are in danger of annihilation.

Buy Links:

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Barnes and Noble Nook


Sunday, July 5, 2015

Mini Retro Interview: Death Sword

Death Sword Cover
Q. Who or what inspired Death Sword?

A. In 2005, I participated in my second National Novel Writing Month challenge. I had "won" the year before with a vampire novel and thought this time around would be as easy. But Cathedral Girl turned out to be more complicated than I thought, so I set it aside. Nevertheless, the research I had started, which included studying angels and fallen angels, piqued my interest so much I was inspired to write Death Sword for NaNoWriMo 2008. (I've also finished Cathedral Girl, after nearly ten years.)

Q. What's the premise of Death Sword?

A. A half-human angel of death resolves to avenge her friends' murders before she becomes the killer's next victim. But that's not easy when she's banished to earth and stripped of her powers. Not only that, but the murderer, her new boss, also threatens her relationship with her angelic parole officer, his former lover.


The only thing more dangerous than an angel of death is one obsessed with vengeance.

Karla Black has always known she’s different from other people. She learns just how different after she’s fatally stabbed and brought back to life as a half-human angel of death.With new found power comes a new found boss. Samael despises her. He considers Karla impure and resents her relationship with her partner Xariel…who also happens to be Samael’s ex-lover. When he takes that hatred to a higher level, Karla vows vengeance – a task easier said than done.
With the loss of their angelic powers, Karla and Xariel face a dilemma – how will they defeat an unstoppable Samael, whose poisoned rapier can kill human and angel alike?
If Karla doesn’t awaken to her true identity, both heaven and earth are in danger of annihilation.


“Karla!” Xariel yelled, ignoring the back door as it banged open.

He skidded to a stop in the living room, eyes narrowing. He sensed Samael’s presence, but not Karla’s.

Gabriel came up behind him. “What the hell happened here?"

“He’s got her.” Xariel’s breathing and heart rate slammed into overdrive. His vision blurred as fury clouded the logical part of his mind.


“Samael, Goddamn it. He’s got her. I know he does.” He glared at Gabriel. “And if he knows who she is, he’ll kill her.”

Xariel  stumbled to the bar, grabbing a half-pint of Crown Royal. Unscrewing the cap, he poured a shot glass, gulped down the whiskey, and ignored the burn. Another shot followed. Then another. 
And another. And still another.

He continued to glower at Gabriel as he drained three-fourths of the whiskey in less than thirty seconds.

“Get a fucking grip.” Gabriel grabbed the bottle and tossed it aside, ignoring Xariel’s protesting cry. His scythe materialized in his hands. “Or I’ll kill you myself.”

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Honorable Mention
Script Adaptation

Sunday, June 21, 2015

Film-Com 2015

Downtown Nashville
I'll admit, I love Nashville. The city has such a positive vibe for me. And this past week was no exception.

First, thank you to Amy McCorkle, who invited me to join her at Film-Com, a financing, distribution, and packaging market. This was my second year attending, and I had just as great a time this year as last. Joining us were horror author L. Andrew Cooper and James Chakan.

We met producers who generously gave of their time. I even had a producer give me advice on an idea I had, which made me very happy.

What I most appreciated was how people could be pragmatic, yet encouraging. Of course, one has to be aware of the realities of the business, but that doesn't mean one shouldn't pursue his or her dreams.

Here's hoping more visits to Music City are in my future.

Meantime, please enjoy this Nashville Pinterest page.

Thursday, June 11, 2015

Reel Dark: A Twisted Look at Cinema on the Page

Reel Dark Cover
Last year, fellow Louisville author L. Andrew Cooper asked if I'd be interested in co-editing an anthology of stories that focused on cinema, but with a twist. While the focus was geared toward horror, all genres were welcome.

The result is Reel Dark: Twisted Projections on the Flickering Page. Not only does it include stories and poetry from Bram Stoker Award finalists, but also new and emerging authors. Here's the blurb:

Welcome to a macabre cinema for the imagination, to screenings of twisted tales projected not on a movie screen but on the page.
In Reel Dark you'll find stories and poems by authors ranging from new voices to bestsellers to Bram Stoker Award finalists. From the battle for recognition between a child actress and a vengeful, long-forgotten film star in "Whatever Happened to Peggy...Who?" to a madman controlling a student à la The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari in "Caligarisme," to a hapless Dreamist, whose talent propels him into a nightmare of jealousy and revenge in "The Dreamist," the authors have created worlds filled with madness, twisted desires, and broken dreams.
The genres inside include suspense, horror, science fiction, and fantasy. You'll meet a lone deputy whose pursuit of justice harkens back to the wild West (complete with a gunfight), a director who literally puts himself into his film, a young woman haunted by a mysterious stranger who warns her of her impending demise, and an aging actress who may have been a little too good at playing her roles.
In a world where the lines between reality and fantasy blur, where film frames flicker at 24 frames per second, we catch a glimpse of strangers' dreams and nightmares. As David Lynch puts it, "This whole world is wild at heart and weird on top."
As Karen Head writes in her poem responding to Lynch, "In the movies / everything is illusion." But in a world with cameras everywhere, how do you know whether you're in a movie?
My story "Rival" was influenced by Jayne Mansfield, Sunset Boulevard and, apparently, film noir, which I love, but never imagined I could write. I'm fascinated by the Hollywood of yesterday, from silent films to the 1940s. 
This is the sixth anthology I'm published in, and the first I've helped edit. Thanks to Andrew for believing in me and for giving me a chance to read some wonderfully talented authors.
You can find Reel Dark (paperback) here:
Happy Reading!

Friday, May 22, 2015

Erin Fanning: Blood Stitches Book Tour

Blood Stitches

By Erin Fanning

Available May 12, 2015 from Kensington Publishing/Lyrical Press

Love and danger intertwine…

It’s called El Toque de la Luna—The Touch of the Moon. At least that’s how nineteen-year-old Gabby’s older sister, Esperanza, refers to the magical powers she inherited from their Mayan ancestors. Esperanza says women with El Toque weave magic into their knitting, creating tapestries capable of saving—or devastating—the world. Gabby thinks Esperanza is more like touched in the head—until a man dressed like a candy corn arrives at their Seattle home on Halloween. But “Mr. C” is far from sweet…

Soon, Gabby and her almost-more-than-friend, Frank, find themselves spirited away to a demon ball, complete with shape shifters—and on a mission to destroy Esperanza’s tapestries before they cause an apocalyptic disaster… And before it’s too late to confess their true feelings for each other.


In this scene, the main character, Gabby, and her soon-to-be-more-than-friend, Frank, are trapped in a subterranean maze with Mr. C and Tory, two men born in a Petri dish.

“I need to tell you something.” Frank steered me to a corner of the room where the eerie light didn’t reach. He moved in front of me, blocking my view, and lined his wrist up with mine. Our tattoos touched, again a deep connection ran through me, as if two pieces of a jigsaw clicked together. “There’s something I have to do. In case, you know, we don’t make it.”

“Don’t say that, we’ll find—”

Frank pressed his lips against mine, a quick peck that morphed into something longer and ended in teeth-smacking and head-bumping. Not the most suave move in the history of romance, but it set something off I’d held back a long time.

He traced the tattoo on my wrist. “Sorry—”

I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him down, leaning into him until we pressed against each other. Our lips touched, and my mind went blank, leaving only warmth flowing from Frank to me.

“Oooh, Gabby and Frank are smooching.” Tory burst the bubble surrounding Frank and me.

Mr. C coughed. “Mind your business, Tory.”

“I’ve been wanting to do that forever.” Frank rested his forehead against mine. “I guess we’ll have to continue later.”

“Yeah.” I cleared my throat, trying to think of something more profound to say, but I went blank when he kissed me again.

Book trailer:




Barnes & Noble:




About the Author:

Erin Fanning spends her summers on a northern Michigan lake, where her imagination explores the water and dense forest for undiscovered creatures. In the winter, she migrates to central Idaho, exchanging mountain bikes and kayaks for skis and snowshoes. She’s the author of a mountain biking guidebook, as well as numerous articles, essays, and short stories. 

Find Erin online:

Twitter: @WriterErin

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Tuesday, April 21, 2015

Sealed in Sin Guest Blog


Series: The Vessel Trilogy, Book Two

Print Length: 276 pages
Publisher: Samhain Publishing, Ltd.
Release Date: April 21, 2015

Tag Line: Sometimes sin looks an awful lot like heaven.

Full Description: One demon prince may be festering in the bowels of the soul eater Cocytus, but Genevieve’s troubles are far from over. Prince Bamal, demon lord of New York City, still wants her. But this time, he wants her alive, to control her inherent power as a Vessel of Light. 

With Jude Delacroix off searching for the prophecy, Thomas—a guardian angel with sea-green eyes and an aura of winter woods—steps into the gap, offering her the power to protect herself.

Yet she hesitates, for the transfer of that power comes through a kiss. While Gen’s love for Jude is true, Thomas stirs a desire where there should be none. Thomas also knows Jude’s darkest secret and plans to use it, if necessary, to win Gen for his own.

While her Vessel power grows and more demon spawn creep from every dark corner of the world, one thing is certain—the Great War between the angels and demons is quickly approaching. And Gen is in a race against time to awaken her full power before the storm breaks.
Warning: Contains a demon hunter with dark secrets, a sexy angel with ulterior motives, and demonic creatures running amok.

Buy Links:

Author Bio:
Juliette calls lush, moss-laden Louisiana home where the landscape curls into her imagination, creating mystical settings for her stories. She has a B.A. in creative writing from Louisiana State University, a M.Ed. in gifted education, and was privileged to study under the award-winning author Ernest J. Gaines in grad school. Her love of mythology, legends, and art serve as constant inspiration for her works. From the moment she read JANE EYRE as a teenager, she fell in love with the Gothic romance--brooding characters, mysterious settings, persevering heroines, and dark, sexy heroes. Even then, she not only longed to read more novels set in Gothic worlds, she wanted to create her own.

Author Links:

“Hiiii, Juuude.” Mindy actually cooed his name as she crossed into the living room right before the man himself waltzed into my kitchen.

“Hello, Mindy.” As always, he sounded dark and rough, which did strange things to my insides.

Apparently, Dave let him in. Not that a door could or would stop Jude Delacroix from going wherever he damn well pleased. Still, it was nice when he pretended to be human, knocking and stuff, rather than appearing out of nowhere and scaring the bejeezus out of me. He had to put on the whole I’m-normal-and-walk-through-doors routine at my apartment when Mindy was home.

The moment he entered the room, all my senses rose to full alert. The man packed enough heat and power in his aura to melt a girl into jelly. A mere glance from his dark eyes or slight touch from rough hands, and I was lost.

I focused on flipping the pancakes on the stove, still trying to figure out how to tell him about our trip to the House of Hades, the near-miss with Gorham, and the brief and strange meeting with my guardian angel. Kat preferred asking forgiveness rather than permission, or just omitting the admission of any sins altogether. But I had trouble lying, though I seemed to do it often as of late. I especially had trouble lying to Jude.

“Want some brinner?” I asked, plopping another dollop of butter in the pan.

“Brinner? What might that be?” He leaned with his back against the counter next to the stove, splaying one huge hand on the countertop, watching me pour the batter into the pan. How did this man make watching me cook a sexy thing?

“You’ve never heard of brinner?” I glanced at the door to make sure Mindy was out of earshot. “For someone who’s been alive nearly two thousand years, you don’t know a whole lot.”

He slid a finger down my forearm. I nearly dropped the spatula. He leaned closer, his chest brushing my shoulder, voice dropping several decibels. “Educate me.” And just like that, my heart slammed into my rib cage, my thoughts scattering to the wind. I stared at him, knowing my eyes were no longer hungry for pancakes. He pressed warm lips, a feather-soft kiss, to the slope between my neck and shoulder. “Genevieve?” Another press of lips higher up my neck, melting me into goo.

“Hm?” Eyes closed, I welcomed a third kiss just under my jaw.

“Your brinner is burning.”

“Oh, dammit!”

I snapped open my eyes, grabbed the smoking pan and thrust it under the water faucet in the sink. A hissing crackle spit up more smoke.

“There goes brinner.”

“You’ve made more than enough already.”

He motioned to the ten-high stack with a smirk. I couldn’t even think about eating now. Not after that kiss. And not with this guilt weighing me down.

Something registered in his gaze. He reached out his hand.

“Come here.”

From his expression, I wasn’t sure if he planned to give me a hug or a spanking. I wouldn’t mind either. Taking his hand, I let him pull me into his arms.

Slipping through the door just as two red-eyed demons in cargo pants and muscle shirts rounded the corner, I sped down the hall in the opposite direction, my boots echoing on the stone floor. Two sets of boots pounded behind me, drawing closer. I skated around another corner, hoping to find a stairwell or elevator, smacking right into a wall.

No. Not a wall. A man. Flamma. My VS zinged to new heights as a signature of downy snow and windswept hills washed over me. His hands wrapped my forearms in a firm grip.

I pushed my palms against his rock-hard chest, ready to blast him with VS power.

“Wait! I’ll take you to safety, Genevieve. Hold still.”

His voice, a sonorous melody, rolled in a deep, languid baritone. I froze. Trapped in sea-green eyes and powerful arms, I was taken into the Void.

My breath sucked right out of me as we fell through the darkness. The second time in a matter of minutes I’d been sifted away by a stranger.

The moment my world righted, I pushed out of his hold several paces away. He’d brought us to a park. A pond shaded by orange-gold trees with skyscrapers towering in the distance. Central Park.

I glared at the stranger and tried to catch my breath, drawing the dagger from the sheath sewn into my boot. He stood nearly as tall as Jude, similar in build but leaner. Black hair hung in staggered waves halfway to his shoulders. He regarded me with startling eyes—deep cobalt blue, the color of a glacier buried and untouched for centuries. Like white marble, his jaw, face and neck were sculpted in perfect, harmonious lines. His captivating signature circled me like a wintry halo.

My dad had splurged the Christmas after I’d turned sixteen, taking us skiing in White Fish, Montana. At the tip-top of the slope, the evergreens were completely covered in new-fallen snow, sculpting white ghosts out of the landscape. The wind blew snow crystals in whirls—a pristine world of enchanting beauty. The air sparkled with iridescent ice-dust, like a fairy land. This image pushed to the forefront as I backed another foot away, gazing at my frost-and-snow rescuer.

“Who are you?”

His eyes flicked to the weapon in my hand, but he made no move toward me. Though we were quite far from park-goers and anyone who could help me if I cried out, I felt safer in this public place.

“I’m here to help you.”

That voice again, deep and mesmerizing.

“That’s not an answer.” Definitely Flamma, but which kind. Naughty or nice? I couldn’t tell. “How do you know me?”

His smile widened, making my pulse pound faster.

“I’ve known you a long time. I’ve watched over you your entire life.”

I examined him more closely. His power lapped against my VS like ocean waves, a gentle suction with each ripple before washing over me in a gentle caress. Though his power didn’t scream its presence or beat against mine, he was potent all the same. The perfect stoic expression, the controlled, straight-backed stance, the undeniable, breathtaking beauty. He exuded the essence of—

“Holy crap.” I gulped. “You’re an angel.”

His smile widened, his beauty brightening into something painful. I lowered my trembling hand, sheathing my dagger. An angel who’d watched over me my whole life.

“Not just any angel…my, my guardian angel. Aren’t you?”

A dip of his strong chin.

While he didn’t emanate the same pulse-pounding aura of Uriel, the Archangel who created the Dominus Daemonum, he carried a similar cast of heavenly essence. He tucked his hands in his pants pockets, appearing completely harmless. But I wasn’t fooled. Even angels could be dangerous.

“Have you never sensed my presence?” he asked, eyes steady on mine.

“No. Not really.” I remembered all the near misses in my life, when I somehow avoided danger or trouble by an internal niggling. Was that him? “Why have you never shown yourself before?”

“Guardians tend to stay in the shadows.” My self-proclaimed guardian, Jude, might not like him staking a claim on that position. “And would you have believed me if I’d ever told you of my existence? Before your twentieth birthday, that is.”

On my twentieth birthday, I’d been attacked and nearly strangled to death until Jude came along, did his voodoo mojo and ripped a bony demon from inside my would-be killer. That night changed everything, including my belief in angels and demons walking the earth.

“No.” I smiled. “I guess not.”

My cell phone vibrated in my back pocket. I answered.

“Where the hell are you!” screamed Kat.

“Um, Central Park.” The angel gave me a slight nod. “There’s a pond and a picnic area. I’m looking directly at the Empire State Building in the distance.”

“Stay put. Dorian and I will be there in two.”

I tucked the phone in my jacket.

Wind blew over the water, rippling the surface. My hair had come loose in the melee, dark wisps crossing my face. Pool-green eyes followed the strands, then my hand when I tucked them behind my ear. His keen observation transformed a simple moment into something that made me breathless. He’d moved closer, within a yard, and I hadn’t noticed. I stepped back.

“Stay where you are.”

“What are you afraid of?” His voice dropped, not lower but deeper, like it was pulling on something hidden within me. My blood pumped faster. “That I’ll sift you away somewhere you don’t want to go? I could’ve done that already. And I told you. I’ve watched over you all of your life, kept you safe from harm so that you could reach maturity.”

“You almost bungled that. I’ve been nearly killed like a hundred times.”

“Nearly.” He shrugged. “The demon hunter was there. Most of the time.”

My heart plummeted into my stomach. With those last three words, I realized this angel knew about Danté. Why hadn’t he saved me then? Before Danté had invaded my soul.

“It would be much easier for you to escape your enemies if you had the power to sift.”

“Don’t I know it,” I snapped back.

He smiled, then angled his head as if listening for something.

“I must go.” He reached out a hand for me to shake. I eyed him with suspicion. “It’s a friendly gesture, Genevieve. One does this in greeting and parting. Sometimes a person even says thank you when one saves another from harm.”

My VS tingled, recognizing his power, finding no danger. I stepped forward, holding his gaze as I took his hand. I gasped. The second our hands made contact, a whisper of winter wind caressed my body from head to toe, but I felt no cold, only a sensual embrace tingling along my skin. My knees nearly buckled.

“Th-thank you,” I stammered.

Edging close, still holding my hand, he trailed his gaze from my eyes to my hair, down my cheek to my parted lips, agape from the strange sensation of his touch, before he met my eyes once more.

“You’re more than welcome.” He smiled, probably at my dumbfounded expression. “Until we meet again, dear Genevieve.”

He sifted out, leaving me with the scent of snow and mountain air.

Saturday, February 28, 2015

Cover Reveal: The Griffin's Secret by Cate Masters

The Griffin’s Secret
by Cate Masters

In this contemporary re-telling of Grimm’s classic fairy tale The Griffin, two people must risk everything to free themselves from the invisible prisons that keep them from love…

Jackson Grant had it all—the girl he loved, his Harley, and his guitar. Until a tragic accident stole it all away. Now, more than scars and a tattoo remain. Jackson has a secret. Cursed by his dead girlfriend’s mother, he can never fall in love again or his beloved will die. With his heart on lockdown, he keeps to himself—until a roadie gig with Malcontent, the world’s most popular band, entwines his fate with sweet, wounded Layla’s…

Music is what Layla lives for. She has no choice. She’s bound by magic to serve Malcontent, cursed to propel them to stardom with her musical powers. Then Jackson appears and gives her hope that he’s the hero who will save her. A reluctant hero, yet one she can’t resist. But freedom will come at price—and who will pay…?

The faint scent of an exotic flower on an ocean breeze hit him the second the girl walked in. Every part of his body stood at attention, taking in the way she moved. The curve of her slender hips. Those long legs…they’d wrap around the back seat of his Harley perfectly. Wrap around him perfectly, too.

A flip of her onyx-silk hair sent it behind her shoulder as she sat opposite. “Who are you?”

Good question. He’d been seeking the same answer for too long. “Jackson Grant.”

Her eyes darkened, deep brown to charcoal diamonds. “Why are you here?”

“For the roadie job.” Was she the first gatekeeper? A gate she kept locked, he’d bet. Or maybe she was another test. Kev had warned him there’d be tricky questions and to answer straight. Something told him she asked out of curiosity.

“You think you’re up for such a demanding job?”

Again, the impression hit him she was making these questions up as she went along, ad-libbing off his replies.

He’d play. “I’m strong. Dependable. I follow orders, keep my head down, and stay out of trouble.” And he liked his privacy.

Her features smoothed, hard as porcelain. “Do you.” Not a question.

He’d answer anyway. “Yes.”

Did disappointment curl her lip? Or boredom? Why did he care? If he could, he’d blast out of there before his own curiosity got the better of him. Already, she’d gotten under his skin. Crazy how the tat no longer singed him, but now twisted like a trapped animal.

With a plastic smile, she batted her eyes, and the false flirtation didn’t suit her. “So. You’re a yes-man.”

The way she said it, he’d be no different than any other roadie serving the great rock star, Malcolm Fetterman. Fine by Jackson. The less he stood out, the better. Except for her. He hated to think of her glossing over his presence, but that would be better, too.

He drummed his fingers on the table. “I need the job.” Where the hell was Malcolm anyway? The longer he stayed with her, the more he wanted to. Definitely couldn’t afford that kind of trouble. He glanced at the open door, hoping he wouldn’t have to go through the same interrogation again.

She tapped the table. “You’d have to travel constantly.”

“Perfect.” No different than his usual way of life. Except this time, his paycheck would remain steady.

“You wouldn’t miss your family?” She dipped her head. “Your girlfriend?”

He curled his lip this time. No one’s business but his. He shifted in his seat. “They’re better off.”

Her brows knit, and then her expression became unreadable as the Sphinx. “The hours are long, and the equipment’s heavy. Everything has to be exactly as Mal orders.”

Did he imagine it, or had she winced at her own words?

He shrugged. “It’s his show.” Someday, Jackson would have his own roadies. And would treat them much better than Malcolm Fetterman did, if the stories proved true.

Her steely focus cut into him. “Mal doesn’t hire musicians except for those in the band. And there aren’t any openings in Malcontent.”

He didn’t allow himself to blink. “No problem.”

“But you play, don’t you?” Her gaze dropped to his callused fingertips drumming the tabletop.

He drew his hand down. “No.” A necessary lie. She might suspect, but couldn’t possibly know the truth. Almost like leaving one of his limbs behind, he’d locked his Fender in storage in New Jersey with his paltry possessions for six months. By then, he’d know whether this gig worked out.

The Griffin’s Secret
Reimagined fairy tale/fantasy romance novella
ISBN: 9781616507053
Publish Date: 5/12/2015
About 33,000 words

About the Author
Cate Masters has made beautiful central Pennsylvania her home, but she’ll always be a Jersey girl at heart. When not spending time with her dear hubby, she can be found in her lair, concocting a magical brew of contemporary, historical, and fantasy/paranormal stories with her cat Chairman Maiow and dog Lily as company. Look for her at and in strange nooks and far-flung corners of the web.

Contact Details
Twitter:  @CateMasters