Home | Site
Do you know Bethany Kane? National Bestselling Author Beth Kery
Books What's Next? About Beth Blog Guestbook Contact

Archive for March, 2010

  • Page 1 of 2
  • 1
  • 2
  • >


Vote for your Favorite Erotic Romance 2009, Win Three Books
Friday, March 26th, 2010

I was trying to figure out the best way of doing this. At first, I thought I’d only put up the nominations with more than one vote. Then I thought, why not put them all up? All you need to do to vote is shoot me a line at bethkery@aol.com with the subject line Favorite 2009 Contest. In the body of the email, put your ONE nomination choice for a winner. I’ll save your email and put your name in the draw April 2 for three print erotic romances (See Nominations post for the giveaway books).

Here are our nominations for Best Erotic Romance 2009. Wow, what a list. Congrats to the authors. :)

Dear Sir, I’m Yours by Joely Sue Burkhart
Sweet Seduction by Maya Banks
Laid Bare by Lauren Dane
All Jacked Up by Lorelei James
Taming the Fire by Sydney Croft
Hard and Fast by Erin McCarthy
Becoming Three by Cameron Dane
Wild Instinct by Sarah McCarty
Instinctive by Cathryn Fox
Riding Temptation by Jaci Burton
Vampire’s Claim by Joey Hill
Destiny of the Wolf by Terry Spears
Simply Wicked by Kate Pearce
Relentless by Lauren Dane
Fatal Exposure by Lisa Slater
Dangerous Passions by Lisa Marie Rice
Seeking Truth by Francesca Hawley
Addicted by Charlotte Featherstone
Bound to Please by Lilli Feisty
Butterfly Unpinned by Bonnie Dee and Laura Bacchi
Simple Need by Lissa Matthews
Nicholas, The Lord of Satyr’s by Elizabeth Amber
Should Have Been a Cowboy by Lorelei James
Thief of Light by Denise Rossetti
When Alex Was Bad by Jo Davis
Pleasure and Purpose by Megan Hart
Rough, Raw, And Ready by Lorelei James
Night is Darkest by Jayne Rylon
Kate’s Crew by Jayne Rylon
Deeper by Megan Hart
Going All In by Jess Dee
The Bikini Diaries by Lacey Alexander

Please write me at bethkery@aol.com with subject Favorite 2009 Contest and your vote for best erotic romance 2009 for this list. When you do so, you not only vote for your favorite, but enter the draw for three erotic romances!
(Please note: I started to check all the publication dates on these books, and it was getting a bit burdensome. I will check the date for the top winner, however, and if it’s not a 2009 book, I’ll bump down to the next highest rated book. I didn’t put Shayla Black’s Delicious on the list, despite several nominations, just because I happen to know this isn’t a 2009 book. I’m sure Shayla much appreciates the nods though, ladies) :)

Week One Winner for the Best Erotic Romance 2009 Contest
Friday, March 26th, 2010

Is #6, Miranda!! Yay, Miranda. Write to me at bethkery@aol.com with your choice of the four books and your address!

Up next, vote for your winner from the nominations list and get a chance to win the three remaining erotic romances next Friday!

Nominate Your Fave Erotic Romance of 2009, Qualify for a Book on Friday!
Monday, March 22nd, 2010

Last year, my husband and I had a blast doing the brackets at DA BWAHA. This year, I didn’t get around to making a bracket, but Julie James is fighting through the contest at this very moment with her terrific book, Practice Makes Perfect, so I’ve been over there to vote. Yay Julie! If you’d like to go over and vote for your favorites of 2009 at DA BWAHA, click here.

DA BWAHA didn’t have an erotic romance category this year. Since I write erotic romance, I thought it’d be fun to do my own (much smaller and more modest, but no less fun) contest here at my blog! There were some terrific erotic romances written in 2009, so let’s give those authors a nod and shout out! (Please note I’m not including myself in this contest).

Here’s how it’ll work:

1. Leave comments here this week with your favorite erotic romance of 2009. It can be an ebook, print book, novel or novella. (Check the publication date to make sure it’s a 2009 book). One vote per participant. Note: You many mention several books, but please make it clear which book you are nominating, or your comment will have to be disregarded. Anyone who participates in the nominations will be in the draw for their choice of an erotic romance. (Choices listed below) Drawing this FRIDAY, March 27th.

2. On Friday, I will gather all the nominations and make up a poll, which will go up this weekend. Participants will be directed how to vote in the poll. The following Friday, I will announce the winner with the most votes.
In addition, one voter will be chosen randomly to win the THREE remaining erotic romance books! This drawing will be on April 2nd.

3. None of my books will be included in the poll.

So nominate away! Remember, your nominations must be an erotic romance, ebook or print, novel or novella, published in 2009, NOT one of my books and you need to make clear ONE book, even if you mention several faves, or your entry will have to be disqualified.

Here are the four books up for the draw.

zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.bound

NaughtyNuptials

zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.nautidreamslg

zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.Delicious

Happy St. Patricks Day and My Little Tribute to John Hughes
Wednesday, March 17th, 2010

zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.

May the luck of the Irish be with you today and for the rest of the year. I’m writing an Irishmen at the moment (his name is Rill Pierce) and I’m starting to speak with an Irish accent in my head. :) Rill is a film director, which brings me to my second topic for today’s post, director John Hughes.

John Hughes’ died recently, and so I was thinking about the impact his films had on me. I studied film in college–there wasn’t a film major at my college, but I minored in English, and I filled up my minor with film classes in the English department. I learned a lot about the role of director in those years. John Hughes was one of the first screenplay writers/directors to show teenagers as fully developed characters. He assured us that their conflicts were real and every bit as painful as what an adult experiences, if not more so. The love of a teenager is real, as well; fierce, cutting and deep. John Hughes films remind us (sometimes in funny, sometimes in painful ways) of the vibrancy of those early years of our life when one glance could take us to heaven and one word could wound to the bone. I can’t say I’d ever want to go back to my teenage years, but John Hughes was wonderful at reminding us of how full of anguish, love and promise those years were.

Of course, Hughes was a fellow Chicagoan, and he often used Chicago and the northern suburbs as a backdrop in his films, so I feel a bit of a kinship with him as a writer. ;) Check out this John Hughes tribute video (there is a small commercial first, sorry). Do you have a favorite Hughes film? I’d have to say mine is the Breakfast Club.

Excerpt, Explosive
Monday, March 15th, 2010

I realized I hadn’t yet put up an excerpt for Explosive even though I received the new cover. So here it is, the debut excerpt of Explosive.

EXPLOSIVE by Beth Kery

Genre: Centemporary erotic suspense
Publisher: Berkley Heat
ISBN-13: 978-0425236710
Release Date: December 7, 2010
Format: Trade Paperback

His touch would consume her—if it didn’t kill her first…

Dr. Sophie Gable wasn’t expecting her peaceful getaway to be shattered by the arrival of a half-dazed, dead-sexy guest. Thomas Nicasio has obviously been traumatized, and Sophie thinks she knows by what. There’s something about Thomas’s father that he can’t—or won’t—remember. Something that could get them both killed. Still she can’t resist Thomas’s electrifying seduction—or her instincts to help him…

An ex-Navy explosives specialist, Thomas has never felt this type of volatile need for a woman. Even while he’s grieving the deaths of his brother and nephew, something in Sophie makes Thomas want to overtake her, and each time he does, her willing submission makes him want her all the more. But danger is lurking close by, and if he can’t face the demons of his past, he and Sophie could be the next victims in a pattern of meaningless violence…

zzzzzzz.explosive_comp.jpg.

Unedited Excerpt

Her fingers delved through thick, surprisingly soft hair, searching for wounds on his scalp. A shiver coursed through him when her hand reached the base of his skull. She caught his scent. Despite his obvious illness and uncharacteristic disheveled state, Thomas Nicasio smelled good.

Cautiously, she met his stare.

For a few seconds, neither of them moved. Sophie suspected neither of them breathed.

“Did you hit your head, Tom?” she asked eventually, her fingers resuming their careful search.

“I don’t think so.”

“Have you been drinking?” she asked, even though she’d inhaled his breath and already suspected that he wasn’t drunk. He shook his head.

“Drugs?”

Again, he shook his head. She pushed back his bangs. Her gaze shot to his when she saw the discoloration near his hairline on his left temple.

“You have been hit.” She reached for the wrist of his right arm, holding his stare all the while. Her mind churned when she glanced down and saw the abrasions and flecks of dried blood on his knuckle.

“You’ve been in a fight,” she stated tersely. Did a shadow of defiance cross his features, or was that her imagination? Well, perhaps she had sounded accusatory. It wasn’t her place to judge him, after all.

“Are you in any pain?”

“No.”

“Sick to your stomach?”

He shrugged negligently.

“How is it that you’re here, Tom?” she asked, despite the memory of what he’d said earlier.

I came looking for you, Sophie.

He wasn’t entirely lucid, after all.

“Do you know someone who lives near here?” she prompted when he didn’t speak.

“No. I only know you.”

“Well…why did you come looking for me?” she couldn’t resist asking in an anxious rush. “Did you find yourself getting ill on the road and need a doctor? Did you remember me telling you I was vacationing here, at Haven Lake?”

A spasm went through him and he cupped his right brow with his palm.

“I’m taking you to the emergency room in Effingham,” she declared, alarmed by the sight of what must have been a jolt of intense pain going through him.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

“But you’ve got to, you’re not well and—”

“I’m not going to the hospital,” he grated out between clenched teeth.

She went completely still at his harsh tone. She considered calling the police, but then he opened his eyes.

“All right.”

The two words leaving her own lips surprised her a little, but she felt as if she didn’t have a choice once she’d looked into those twin pools of turmoil and anguish. “You might have a concussion, but you’re feverish, as well. I’ll get you some Tylenol and then you need to rest. Will you at least promise me to do that for now?”

“I’m not sleepy,” he said hoarsely. His gaze lowered. Heat flooded her cheeks. He stared at her breasts covered in the thin bikini top. Her body responded to his blatantly sexual gaze against her will. Her nipples stiffened beneath the flimsy fabric.

He stepped toward her.

Sophie stepped back.

“You’re ill. You need to rest. Is there someone you want me to call? Will someone be missing you in Chicago? Never mind. Come on,” she said when he just stared at her. She waved her hand and led him down the dim hallway to the guest bedroom. She turned on the light and inspected the state of the room. She hadn’t been in it since early June, just after Andy and his wife Sheila had visited for a weekend.

Her mind sifted through his symptoms, trying to make sense of his bizarre presentation as she bustled around in the guest bath, laying out clean towels and getting Tylenol out of the medicine cabinet. His feverish state implied that something physical was going on, but the pain she’d seen in his eyes just moments ago argued for something psychological. The bruise on his temple wasn’t massive, but she knew the brain could sustain considerable injury from a blow without any obvious external trauma.

Of course there was no reason why his condition couldn’t be both physical and psychological, considering the amount of stress Thomas must have been under recently.

Who had he been fighting with, and why? Oddly, it didn’t surprise her to consider Thomas engaging in a brawl, despite the fact that she was used to seeing only his polished work image. She’d always sensed a rebel existed beneath the smooth exterior of his perfectly tailored suits. Maybe it was the tilt of his jaw that made her think it, or the gold flecks that flashed and burned in the deep green of his eyes; or a smile that was sweet, but just a tad cocky…slow in coming and breathtaking upon arrival.

Or maybe it was just because Sophie knew he’d spent the first years of his life in a working class Southside neighborhood far from the perfectly manicured, sweeping green lawns and multi-million dollar homes of Lake Forest, where Thomas had gone to live with the family that adopted him. A kid growing up in Morgan Park would have known how to use his fist. Besides, he’d only worked in the private sector for the past few years. Before he’d taken up the reigns of his own business, he’d been in the military, but Sophie couldn’t recall at the moment if Andy had ever mentioned in what branch he’d served or what his duties had involved.

She grimaced as she filled a glass with water from the tap. She felt guilty for not taking him to the hospital, even though the chances were that the emergency room physician would recommend nothing more than close observation of Thomas’ symptoms for the next forty-eight hours.

And either way, Thomas had flatly refused to go, so what choice did she have?

Her level of anxiety upon entering the bedroom was unprecedented since her first year of medical school.
She carried the Tylenol in one hand and the glass of water in the other. He still stood just inside the threshold of the door. She was relieved when he took the Tylenol without argument. He stood behind her while she turned down the bed, making her highly self-conscious of her bent over position.

She added his blatant sexual stare into her formulary of symptoms, even though Thomas Nicasio’s hot eyes hardly left her feeling analytical. Was he in a manic state, perhaps? That would explain his hyper-sexuality, the sudden need to impulsively escape…

…but not the bruise, fever or dazed confusion.

Was she safe with him there in the house with her? She glanced back at him and their gazes held. She exhaled slowly.

“Why don’t you get into bed?” she asked, glad to hear that her voice didn’t audibly tremble. He stepped toward her and Sophie glanced down, avoiding that laser-like stare. She knew she should have backed away, but she didn’t.

Not even when he spread one hand along her naked hip.

She held her breath and clamped her eyes shut when she felt his thumb gently rub across a dried smear of paint.
Her lungs burned by the time he bent his long legs at the knees, and he wrapped her in his arms.

He encompassed her. In that full, fertile moment, she felt Thomas Nicasio in every cell of her being.

He nudged her hair back with his nose and pressed his entire face to the side of her neck. His hardness pressed against her softness, stark and potent.

“Sophie.”

Her heart throbbed erratically in her chest at the sensation of his hot mouth moving next to her sensitive skin.

“Sleep with me, Sophie. I need your cleanness so much right now.”

Pre-Order Explosive

I have a new cover plus an excerpt, Velvet Cataclysm
Friday, March 12th, 2010

VC-NEW-200

Velvet Cataclysm
Series: Princes of the Underground 1
Author: Beth Kery
Publisher: Samhain Publishing
Length: Novel
Genre: Paranormal Romance/Red Hot
Price: 5.50
Publication Date: May 18, 2010

In his battle to resist, he found the impossible. His soul.

Christina Astor’s telepathic ability is an asset in her job as a psychiatric social worker. What’s driving her crazy, though, is her elusive, gorgeous landlord. She senses that Saint Sevliss wants her with an all-consuming hunger that’s somehow…different. Just how different becomes all too clear when his dangerous world collides with hers.

For centuries, Saint’s kind have been called vampire and werewolf. Even soulless. But their true nature remains a mystery. Bound by a magical mandate to control his bloodthirsty clone, Teslar, at all costs, Saint will do anything to keep Christina away. She infuses his gray universe with life and color, but his world—and his need—would destroy her.

When an attack reveals the true power of Christina’s gift, one thing is certain—Teslar won’t rest in his underground labyrinth until he possesses her, body and soul…

Unedited Excerpt

She’d been networking and offering information on Altgeld House to various contributors, board members and other sympathetic community leaders. She instinctively found Saint in the crowd—not difficult to do since his head towered over everyone that surrounded him. His tousled light brown hair streaked with strands of incandescent gold looked glossy in the flickering lanterns and the glow cast by the tiny white lights hanging in the canopy of trees. He’d continued to meet her stare as he conversed with a bald-headed man and a woman wearing a large hat.

A shiver of excitement danced down Christina’s spine.

“Is it true, what they say?” Melinda Marquette, another psychiatric social worker who managed a sister home to Altgeld House, asked as she leaned closer to her. Christina flushed knowing the older woman had noticed where she’d been staring. “Did he really get the nickname “˜Saint’ from all of his charitable acts and altruism? Or is it just an affectation to fascinate the ladies?”

“Come on, Melinda. Look at him. Do you really think he needs to use Hollywood devices to lure women into bed?”

Melinda chuckled softly. “No, I see your point. The man looks like a combination of a rock star and Jesus on steroids.”

Christina pulled her gaze away from Saint’s steady stare. “If it weren’t for Saint Sevliss, you and I would be out of a job and all of our kids would be on the street. He’s LifeLine’s biggest contributor.”

Melinda nodded wryly at the affluent crowd surrounding them. “The hype about this sicko who’s been murdering young people, especially the lost ones like our kids, is certainly doing its fair share of bringing in donations to LifeLine, in addition to Sevliss.”

Christina nodded, her mouth pressed into a hard line. It was a grim fact of life that the sociopath the media had dubbed the “˜Youngblood Thief’ was bringing in tons of money to LifeLine from concerned philanthropists. The media had sensationalized the grisly murders to nauseating levels, but in doing so, had inadvertently highlighted the plight of a subpopulation of mentally ill and homeless young adults in Chicago.

Christina hated the fact that the sad end to four homeless, lonely kids by the horrific method of exsanguination—complete drainage of the blood from the body—was the cause of LifeLine’s swelling coffers.

“They say Sevliss is the true leader of the city, you know, the shadow behind every union leader, neighborhood alderman and councilman. They also say he doesn’t need to avoid press because the media is in his pocket as well. But you must have juicy goods on him, living right here on his property?” Melinda prodded.

Christina just smiled and changed the topic. As much as she liked Melinda, she didn’t gossip about Saint. She didn’t because she knew instinctively how uncomfortable that would make him.

A few minutes later she spun around to snag a glass of champagne and an appetizer from a passing waiter. When she glanced up Saint was standing directly beside her. He’d come without movement, without sound, and in typical Saint-fashion, without a shred of respect for the time it should have taken everyone else on the planet to cross the distance between them.

She quirked up one eyebrow as she looked at him.

“What?” he asked.

Christina laughed softly. She’d known him for eight years now and he still managed to pull off a poker face every time he exhibited yet another bizarre behavior. Did he really think she didn’t notice?

She smiled up at him before she took a sip of champagne, never letting her gaze falter. “It’s going very well, don’t you think? We couldn’t have had a better night for it.”

He’d merely nodded as he stared down at her from his height of six foot five inches. He looked thin. Beautiful as an angel fallen from heaven, but too thin. She held up the pastry appetizer to his lips. It was a common thing for her to push food on him. He glanced down at her hand. His nostrils flared as he inhaled slowly but he shook his head in refusal.

Funny…he looked hungry.

“Go on, eat it. You’re throwing this party, and I haven’t seen you touch a morsel of all this fantastic food.”

“I can’t eat anyone’s food but yours, Stina.”

She smiled. Saint was the only person she knew who called her Stina. Given his typical laconism, she’d always prized the sound of the pet name uttered in his deep, husky voice. Maybe it was wishful thinking on her part, but it always sounded like an endearment on Saint’s tongue.

“Right. If that were the case you’d be capable of surviving on what—three meals a week, tops? Why don’t you just say you’re not hungry?” She chewed and swallowed while he watched her.

“Aren’t you at least going to cut the silent act to tell me I look beautiful tonight?” she asked him brashly, not concerned in the slightest by his refusal to chit chat with her. Saint wasn’t one for small talk. Never had been. How many times had he walked across the grounds and sat on the front porch with her, or with her and Aidan, said a total of a dozen words the entire time before uncoiling his long frame from an Adirondack chair and sauntering silently back to the big house?

She couldn’t imagine how he thrived in a social gathering like this. He always managed to get exponentially more money donated to LifeLine’s shelters and group homes than any board member, so he must not be entirely backward. But if he possessed an ounce of social acumen Christina had yet to see it.

Saint was just…Saint.

He shrugged and blessed her with a rare smile. “Do you really need to hear that you’re beautiful? Why state the obvious? Might as well say the sun is bright.”

She paused abruptly in the act of lifting her champagne glass to her lips, her eyes flashing up to meet his. Had he really just said that? Saint never complimented her. At least not with words. With her special ability to read people’s minds, however, Christina had always known he admired her…wanted her.

Not enough to ever do anything about it, she thought irritably. Not even after eight years of knowing her. But still, she’d known. She’d seen the expression of longing in his eyes, noticed how even the slightest snarl on his shapely mouth resulted in her boyfriends preferring to stay clear of Whitby altogether. Certainly Aidan’s deadbeat dad, Rick, had avoided Whitby like the plague, but Christina suspected that had just as much to do with Rick being a loser as it did Saint’s intimidating frowns.

Saint was always her silent sentinel…her distant lover.

She’d recently made it her mission to narrow that distance to nothing.

She swallowed heavily as she stared into his mesmerizing eyes. She thought she’d understood the depth of his longing before, but she’d been wrong. It was as though he’d been blocking her from his desire and he suddenly released the barrier. Arousal flooded her awareness. A pleasurable tingling sensation buzzed just beneath her skin. Heat sunk from her belly to her sex. A mandatory need to touch him, to press her body against his long, hard length overcame her.

She stepped forward as if to do precisely that—yes, even in the midst of a party that related to her work. His head lowered, as though to meet her in a kiss. For an electric second that stretched impossibly long she was lost…gone…flying around in the depths of Saint’s eyes.

A harsh moan scraped her throat.

For just a moment she existed in a different world—a place of rich, voluptuous pleasure. She could still feel the slight rasp of Saint’s teeth brushing her inner thigh, his firm tongue sliding between the swollen folds of her pussy, the sensation of his big hand opened across her ribs and his fingertips lightly skimming the soft curve of her lower breast. She stared up at the roof of the gazebo, ecstasy nearly blinding her.

“No. Never again.”

She blinked at Saint’s roughly spoken words, the trance broken. The lights around her seemed to throb against the velvety black background of the night sky. In the distance she heard the waves of Lake Michigan striking the beach rhythmically, or was that the sound of the blood surging in her veins? She felt hot. She touched her fingertips to her cheek. Her face wasn’t the only thing that had grown warm and damp.

Warm moisture pooled between her thighs.

Had it really happened?

Her gaze locked on Saint’s rigid features. She took a step closer to him, stunned by the magnitude of desire she saw etched on his features…hurt by the fact that he appeared to be struggling like crazy against that desire.

Have You Entered the Spread the Word Contest?
Thursday, March 11th, 2010

My booksigning is this Saturday with other authors Shiloh Walker, Joss Ware/Colleen Gleason and Julie James at Barnes and Noble/Webster Place/Chicago from 3-5! Even if you can’t come for the signing, you can enter the contest to win a forty dollar Barnes and Noble gift certificate and a signed book from each of the authors. The details are at Julie’s blog. It’s really easy, all you have to do is twitter, facebook, blog, etc. about the booksigning and then go back to Julie’s blog and say what you did to enter. Need more details? Write me at bethkery@aol.com.

Hanging Out at the Samhain Cafe and a Velvet Cataclysm Debut
Wednesday, March 10th, 2010

Greetings all! How are you on this (what is in Chicago) rainy Wednesday? I’m going to be chatting up a storm with friend Fiona Jayde over at the Samhain Cafe today from 3-4 EST. If you aren’t yet a member of the cafe, you can join here.

I’m very excited because my awesome editor Laurie told me that I can put up an excerpt from my Samhain novel releasing on May 18, VELVET CATACLYSM. This is my first full length for Samhain AND it’s a paranormal–vampires and werewolves and tons of heat. It hasn’t been edited yet, but Laurie said I could put it up as long as I tell everyone that fact. I hope you can stop by the cafe and check it out!

Beth and the Mall, Not a Good Mix
Monday, March 8th, 2010

Hello all! Hope you had a good weekend. I was at the mall on Saturday. Not any mall, one of the largest malls in the midwest,Woodfield. Now going to the mall is probably a normal event for most people, but I live in the middle of the city, and malls I typically don’t do. So this was quite an experience; one I haven’t had in a while.

One of my first observations is that if I were a teenager in suburban America, I would be SUCH a loser. These kids were everywhere, and their parents must put out some huge bucks for those clothes, shoes and purses. Holy Moley. Status symbols and pheremones in so many directions I was getting a little dizzy.

Secondly, you have to be a good walker to go to Woodfield mall. There’s no quickly running over to Ann Taylor and popping in at Macy’s. NO. You gotta walk and climb stairs and walk some more. They seriously need some little mini cabs in a mall like that. They’d make millions.

The third thing I learned is never to go on a Saturday to Woodfield Mall, especially on one of the first nice days of the year. I knew I was in trouble when I parked by Sears (one of the least favorite stores in the mall for fashionable teenagers) only to discover that Pamela Anderson was there…yes. In Sears! She was doing some promo event. People were lined up in little fenced in mazes like they have at Six Flags to see her.

I finally got through this maze, even though I earned quite a few scowls for cutting in front of people to get through the store. Apparently I look like the type of person who would cut in line to see Pamela Anderson. But before I even got through Sears, there was yet another guest appearance–the Jeweler to Rock Stars! Yes, I could have met the man who designed the jewelry for TWISTED SISTER.

Alas, the siren going off in my head for a new pair of shoes forced me to bypass this truly singular event.

How was your weekend? Any trips to the mall? :)

Winners and a New Cover, Explosive!
Saturday, March 6th, 2010

Time for some winners announcements!

The winner of a copy of Julie James, Something About You, is #4, Jane!

The winner of a Fiona Jayde backlist book is #10, Cecile!

Ladies, write to me at bethkery@aol.com to claim your prizes!

I have a new cover for my Berkley Heat book coming out in December of this year, EXPLOSIVE

explosive-200



  • Page 1 of 2
  • 1
  • 2
  • >
Steam for the Sophisticated Reader www.BethKery.com Do you know Bethany Kane?