Anya Bast

THIS CONTEST IS NOW CLOSED

The winner of yesterday’s book, Witch Fire, Ashly L., who said, “Moving to Chicago to start my internship and moving in with my great aunt and uncle to live. Two new situations I was thrown into in a very short time span.” Congrats! Please email me at anyabast(at)gmail.com with your snail mail.

In this sensuous and lust-filled otherworld, the Chosen are vampires fighting for their very existence.

It is Daria’s destiny to become one of them…

Daria Morris is a special forces agent with one obsession: to wreak vengeance on the brutal vampire who nearly destroyed her. Now she’s finally about to get her chance, on one condition. She must become something she detests: a vampire.

Her fate rests upon one man’s lethal bite. His name is Alejandro Martinez, and he can help her infiltrate a highly guarded group of the Chosen. But Alejandro is also a distraction for Daria. Because thirteen years ago, they shared a scorching night of passion neither has forgotten.

Now, while Daria struggles against her newfound bloodlust, the two must slip into the shadows to bring a monster to justice—even as their desire threatens to consume them. But under the cover of night, they’ll discover that it’s the darkness within that may stand in the way of their hunger for retribution…

Daria Morris pushed the door open and stepped into the Blood Spot. Her pupils adjusted to the dim light and her nostrils flared at the heavy odor—a combination of Darpongese booze, the bitter smoke from rashish cigarettes, and the metallic scent of blood. The pounding beat of the club’s music assaulted her eardrums.

There were vamps in here. She could feel them. This sleazy club in the outreaches of the Darpong was well known as a place where glamjammers, blood donors who were psychologically addicted to a vamp’s glamour and physically addicted to the chemicals secreted by a vamp’s bite, hung out, waiting for a vampire to grace them with their presence…and their fangs. The edges of her mouth curled down in disgust.

Alliance law had made blood extraction from a willing donor a consensual crime long ago. It went unpunished except in the most conservative parts of the Allied Territories. Darpong Sector, where she was now, was definitely not a conservative part.
If it was up to Daria, glamjamming would be illegal everywhere. She found the practice abhorrent, despite the supposed joys of having a vampire sink his or her fangs into you and unfurl their illusions within your mind.

There were addiction clinics all over the Logos Territories. You’d think people would learn not to get their kicks this way. There were even isolated cases of groups of vampires trafficking in the sale of addicted humans they called blood slaves. She shook her head, glancing around at the people that filled the building. The fools.

Daria’s hand rested on her patrol-issued disruptor, a weapon capable of briefly preventing muscular impulses, or the cessation of synapses firing in the brain, depending on the setting. The weapon worked on most species, even the Chosen. She was not a willing blood donor and she’d be damned if anyone mistook her for one.

Her pupils finally adjusted to the dim light and she sought out Alejandro Martinez. She hadn’t seen him in over thirteen years. All the same, she spotted him right away since he still looked like sin made flesh. A black leather dune-biker jacket sheathed broad shoulders and his muscular arms and chest. Thick black hair framed a face hewn in masculine lines, with a strong chin, chocolate-brown eyes, and a mouth made for kissing…and other things. She filled in from memory what she couldn’t see, since his face was currently buried in the neck of a tall redhead.

Daria hung back, watching him sway and dip the woman in his arms, his pelvis moving sensually against hers. The rhythm to which they danced was a lot slower than the music. They looked like they were in the throes of a slow, pleasurable fuck, oblivious to everyone around them.

Daria shook her head. It had been far too long since she’d had one of those. Everything looked sensual to her these days. Although, Alejandro had always exuded confident sexuality, even before he’d been Chosen.

What the hell was he doing biting a human? That was against GBC regulation.

She worked her way around the edge of the room, picking past entangled vampires and donors and stepping in sloshed beer and other substances she didn’t care to identify. Finally, she entered the crush on the dance floor and elbowed her way to him.

“Alejandro?” she queried loudly, competing with the music. “It’s me, Daria.”

No reaction. Just that irritating sway and thrust.

“Alejandro,” she repeated, louder this time.

He raised his head. His dark eyes were heavy lidded, and a hank of black hair had fallen across his cheek. Dark stubble graced the square jut of his jaw and shaded the skin around his well-formed mouth. Those beautiful lips twisted. “Your turn?” he drawled with a trace of a Spanish accent.

He released the glamjammer redhead who stumbled back drunkenly with a smile on her face. Daria stepped away, but he grabbed her around the waist and drew her close.

Her protest died on her tongue as his hot breath caressed her throat. Some strange quirk of vampire chemistry made a Chosen’s breath consistently sweet. Their non-human bodies took the blood they drank and transformed it into pure energy, pure life. Scientists had hypothesized that it acted as a mild tranquilizer, lulling their human victim. Daria held her breath, trying not to inhale it. Alejandro bussed his lips across the bare skin between her collarbone and shoulder. The hard rake of fangs followed the sensation.

That broke her momentary stupor. She pushed him away and hooked her leg around to sweep his legs out from under him. He went down hard on his back, scattering the bar’s patrons around them. Daria knelt beside him, drawing her disruptor and pointing it at his temple. It whirred up, readying to fire. “I told you, Alejandro. No fangs.”

Someone to their immediate left gasped, another screamed. They all backed away. But Daria knew that in this place ruckus wasn’t uncommon. They’d go back to their drinks and dancing soon enough.

Alejandro blinked. “Daria? Jesus, I didn’t recognize you.”

Self-consciously, she touched her hair with her free hand. She’d undergone a lot of cosmetic work for this operation. The face of the person she’d been when she’d known Alejandro was now permanently altered. Her dark chestnut-colored hair was now blond, and her jaw was shaped square instead of delicately pointed. Her lips were fuller and her cheekbones more prominent. The only thing she’d left untouched from the neck up were her eyes. They were still a dark blue. When she went undercover, she’d turn her blue eyes brown with an ordinary pair of colored contacts. There’d be no way her quarry would recognize her even without the added precaution of the contacts, but there was no sense in taking chances.

Sante used to say he loved the color of her eyes, the bastard.

“You haven’t changed at all,” she said. “Don’t sink your fangs into me, got it? No biting. No fangs.”

“That’s kind of ironic considering what you want me for. How do you think this is going to work, anyway? I can’t Choose you without taking your blood.”

A fine tremble in her hand shook the disruptor. “I know.” She was still in denial about that part. She’d do it, but until that time, she didn’t want to think about it…or talk about it. “But that’s for a good reason. I don’t want you to bite me just for kicks. I’m not a glamjammer.”

He stared at her for a moment before speaking. “You’re not ready for this at all, are you?”

She ignored the question and cocked her head to the side. “What the hell are you doing breaking GBC law, anyway? Are you blood drunk?”

“What makes you think that?”

“You let me spill you on your ass, Alejandro, and me a puny human and all.” She smiled. “You a lush now, big guy?”

With the kind of speed achieved by only the Chosen, he disarmed and flipped her in one smooth motion. She tried to strike out at his throat and eyes, but he grabbed her wrists and pinned them to the floor. “If I was blood drunk, would I have been able to disarm and restrain an agent of the Allied Bureau of Investigation so easily?”

“You son of a bitch, Alejandro. I could’ve killed you if I wanted to. Your brain was only a trigger squeeze away.” She lifted a brow. “If I didn’t need you for this mission, I’d report you to the GBC for your little…slip. I wonder how often you’re slipping these days?”

Fear flashed through his eyes and he clenched jaw before responding. “Such fire, Daria. I don’t remember you being like this. It’s so arousing.” He lowered his mouth and brushed his lips across hers. “I might have to change your mind about not allowing my” —he inhaled her scent and groaned— “fangs to sink into you.”

His accent rolled over her and tingled places that hadn’t tingled in a long time. She ignored it. “Some things never change,” she said. “Not after thirteen years, not even after you’ve been Chosen. You think all the women will just fall at your feet.”

He smiled. “Didn’t you?”

“That was before you were Chosen. It wouldn’t happen now.”

White teeth flashed, making him look feral in the half-light. His fangs were retracted, thank God. “It would be even better now.”
It had been fantastic before. She could still remember that night, the taste of him in her mouth and the feel of him moving inside her. He’d brought her to climax hard and fast at first, and then he’d taken his time with her, drawing out two more orgasms before he was finished. He’d been better than Sante had ever been, and Sante had been Chosen when she’d slept with him, even though she hadn’t known it.

She’d used Alejandro that night. He’d known it and hadn’t minded. She’d needed him to help her forget what had happened, to drown her in lust so she wouldn’t drown in sorrow. He’d done a good job. For that one night, he’d been like a knight in shining armor to her damsel in distress.

Daria shivered as his mouth came down on hers. His lips slid over hers like silk, in just the lightest brush. Pure desire shot down her spine straight to her sex. Damn him! She was still attracted to him after all these years. And, of all the things he could be, he was a vampire. She bit his bottom lip and tasted blood. It spread across her tongue like silk and wine. She resisted the urge to spit.

Swearing, he jerked back and Daria rolled away. She snatched up her lost disruptor and stood, wiping the floor yuck from her clothing with a grimace. “Get up, Alejandro. We need to move.” She offered her hand and he took it.

Once he was on his feet, she turned on her heel and headed straight for the bar. She needed to take a minute to settle her nerves. Whisky could be a good thing, and right now, Daria thought it might be the very best thing ever.

“Rocks?” the bartender asked.

She gave her head a shake.

The bartender served her the shot and she downed it. There was nothing like Darpong whiskey. It was a little like Earth whiskey, but stronger and with a slightly bitter flavor.

Alejandro touched her shoulder. “You okay?”

She shrugged him off. “I’m fine.” She set the shot glass back on the bar and closed her eyes for a moment. It was a lie, one she was desperately trying to believe.

Two years of service in the Galactic Patrol, eleven years in the Allied Bureau of Investigation, two medals of valor, numerous undercover operations and hundreds of busts and she still wasn’t sure she could handle what was to come.

I love futuristics, but there don’t seem to be many of them out there. I’m assuming you like futuristics, too, since you’re entering to win this book. What are a few of your favorite titles? Or maybe you’re new to futuristics and want to try one?

Leave a comment for a chance to win an autographed copy of THE CHOSEN SIN. Don’t forget to check back tomorrow it see if you’ve won. Good luck!

THIS CONTEST IS NOW CLOSED

THIS CONTEST IS NOW CLOSED

The winner from yesterday (an autographed copy of CRUEL ENCHANTMENT) is Jean P., who said, “Great excerpt, I always enjoy your books, they keep me hooked from start to finish.” Thanks Jean! Please email me at anyabast@gmail.com with your snail mail and I’ll get your prize out to you.

Today’s book is the first in the Elemental Witches series, Witch Fire.

Mira Hoskins doesn’t know she’s a natural born witch who possesses the rare—and powerful—element of air. She also never expected to find herself tied to a mahogany bed frame, captive to a man who aches to fulfill her every desire and let loose the magick that dwells inside her…

Heat emanates from elemental fire witch Jack McAllister. The Coven, a governing authority of witches, has sent him to protect Mira from a band of warlocks who drain witches of power… and life. Long ago, he saw Mira’s parents murdered by this same dark magick. He’d like to quell his guilt and offer her everything she deserves. But she’s the long-lost cousin of his boss—making seduction off-limits.

With Jack’s strong guidance, Mira is luring forth her inner magick. But his sense of duty is quickly swelling into insatiable hunger. They warned him about the natural attraction between air and fire. Now he risks being consumed by the woman he shouldn’t want—but can’t stay away from …

He looked like sin and seemed like salvation. Salvation for her sluggish libido, anyway.

Seriously preoccupied by the man sitting at table eight, Mira slung plates of liver and onion, the special of the day. She couldn’t remember the last time a man had distracted her this way, made her feel like a clumsy fifteen-year old again. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d looked at a man and had an instant, primal reaction. Hell, she’d begun to think she’d completely lost her sex drive.

It was still alive and well.

She tucked her pen behind her ear as she finished taking an order and glanced at the man. He sat at a booth in the corner, sipping black coffee and reading the Star Tribune. He’d been there for close to two hours and hadn’t wanted any food. Normally that would annoy her, especially since he was taking up prime real estate during the busiest time of the day, but she was prepared to forgive him. Eye candy like him tended to be rare in Mike’s Diner. He was so gorgeous she felt like throwing herself at the poor guy, but her boss frowned on scaring the customers. Anyway, recently divorced, grease-stained waitresses probably weren’t this man’s normal fare.

It wasn’t just his physical appearance that made him so attractive. It was his attitude and his mannerisms. It was the way he held himself so confidently. He was one of those men to whom women had a deep, instinctive reaction, a response that harkened back to caveman days when females were most attracted to the biggest, baddest male around.

At least six foot three and powerfully built, the man seemed to walk and breathe sex, like he knew his way around a woman and would deliver one hundred percent satisfaction. Like he’d protect a woman from any threat and take really good care of her body while he did it.

Of course, that was probably just her fevered, under-sexed imagination working overtime. That doubtless happened when one unexpectedly rediscovered one’s libido.

As a result she was having sexual fantasies about a stranger during the busiest part of her shift. Instead of worrying if the salt and pepper shakers were filled, she wondered what his hands would feel like on her body, imagined his hard chest rubbing against her bare breasts.

As Mira took care of a table, refilling drinks and making sure the patrons had everything they needed, she glanced at the man again from under her lashes. She felt the need to commit him to memory so he could star in her fantasies later. During the last few months her vibrator had gathered dust in the bottom drawer of her night table. Now she had a reason to pull it out again.
He was broad-shouldered and leanly muscled. His golden, sun-kissed skin seemed to defy the Minnesota winter and made Mira want to run her lips and hands over it. Silky black hair framed a chiseled, interesting face with black slashes for eyebrows and a sexy dusting of a beard on his sculpted jaw. He was attractive, yet he wasn’t a pretty boy. This man had a face that could either freeze someone solid or turn a woman’s bones to warm honey, depending on his expression.

The man was sex on legs, but it was his mouth and eyes that really did it for Mira. Long, dark lashes fringed his light blue eyes. They seemed cold at first glance, but when he’d smiled at her the look in those eyes had made her knees go weak. And he had a positively indecent mouth. The slight curve of his full, sensual lips brought to mind all sorts of tempting images—skin moving on skin, limbs entangled, ragged breathing, mouths and tongues working as two bodies fused amid twisted sheets….

“Hey, watch it!” a customer complained when she nearly plowed him over after clearing off a table.

“Sorry.” She pasted on a smile and apologized. She was really off her stride this afternoon. Blowing an errant strand of dark hair out of her face, she carted the tub to the back for the dishwasher. As she passed nearby, she stole her thousandth glance at him.

He wore a pair of close fitting jeans, a gray turtleneck sweater, a long black coat and black boots. His dress was casual, but he reeked of money. The whiff she’d gotten of his expensive cologne and the silver Mercedes he’d parked outside was enough to tell her he had lots of that.

Nope. Definitely not her type.

In any case, she’d made a promise to herself to avoid any new relationships for at least a year. She owed it to herself to keep that promise.

Not that he’d want her anyway.

She headed back to the kitchen, hooking a loose hank of hair behind her ear as she went, and placed the order she’d just taken. It was lunchtime and the diner was crowded with downtowners grabbing a quick bite before they headed back to the office. Nobody wanted to go very far in February; Mike’s Downtown Diner was good enough in this kind of Minnesota cold. The sounds of conversation and clattering silverware nearly drowned out the piped-in music, and it felt hot in the small restaurant.
Normally, when she wasn’t so distracted, this was the time of day when she hit her groove. Her whole reality became the synchronization of taking orders, serving food, and refilling drinks. The time went fast and smooth. The rhythm of lunchtime at the diner was like the clackety-clack of well-oiled train wheels speeding down a track.

She was good at her job, able to sense people’s needs with a natural intuitiveness that she’d had her whole life. Her regular customers always commented on how she’d show up right as they were thinking about ordering a side of mayo or a slice of blueberry pie. Okay, so she wasn’t curing cancer, but at least she was being a productive member of society. Plus, the tips weren’t bad. Mira was saving up to go back to school and finish her degree in psychology. She had no intention of being a professional waitress for the rest of her life.

“Mira, order up!” Mike called from the kitchen.

She picked up her order and headed out to deliver it, making her way through the crowded diner toward table seven. It was right next to table eight where Mr. Gorgeous still nursed his coffee. She painted on a wide give-me-a-good-tip smile and served the man at table seven his meal. He looked like some middle management guy struggling his way up the corporate ladder. After working at the diner for the last six months, she’d gotten a good feel for the lunchtime crowd.

“Can I get you anything else right now, sir?” she asked brightly.

The man looked up from his plate and focused on her necklace. “You some kinda Satanist?” he asked.

Her smile collapsed and shock rippled through her at the angry tone of the man’s voice. Her hand flew to the pentagram around her neck. Damn, she’d forgotten to take it off before her shift.

Scorn followed the shock. This guy never would’ve said anything if she’d been wearing a crucifix. People instantly equated the pentagram with Satanism, even though it had nothing to do with it. Normally, she’d give him a lesson in religious sensitivity, but this wasn’t the time or the place.

“No,” she answered coldly. “I’m not a Satanist. Can I get you anything else, sir?”

“So what? Is it some kind a goth thing, then?”

“No, it’s not a goth thing. Do you want another Coke?”

“Why wear that damned thing around? It offends people.”

“Leave the waitress alone.”

Her head snapped up. It was Mr. Gorgeous. He hadn’t even raised his head from his paper. His deep, resonating voice commanded authority even without his direct attention. “She doesn’t want to explain her jewelry preferences, she just wants to know if you want a drink refill.”

Middle Management seemed instantly cowed by the note of aggression in Mr. Gorgeous’ voice. That’s why he probably wouldn’t make it very far up the corporate ladder, Mira thought with satisfaction.

“I’m fine,” Middle Management answered her, looking down at his plate. “Sorry.”

“No problem,” she said, turning away.

She glanced at Mr. Gorgeous. He looked up from his paper and their gazes met for a moment. His mouth curved a little in a smile before he turned his attention back to his paper. She imagined those full lips kissing between her breasts and down her stomach.

The image of his dark head working between her thighs as he licked away her deep sexual ache filled her mind.

A baby squalled a couple booths over, breaking her pleasant thoughts. Mira wished she wasn’t working and could be home wallowing in her fantasies of this man.

Since she had a little lull, Mira ducked into the break room to remove her necklace and put it in her locker. On her way out, she picked up a pot of coffee and walked back to Mr. Gorgeous’ table.

He looked up at her as she approached. “Would you like another cup of coffee?” She held the pot and tipped her head to the side in question.

He shook his head. “The check.”

She put the pot down, dug in her apron pocket for his bill and laid it on the table. “Thanks,” she said quietly. “I mean, for saying what you did.”

“Are you Wiccan?” he asked while he fished his billfold out and extracted a twenty. His hands and wrists, she noted, looked strong and capable. A little shiver went through her.

She nodded. “I was raised Wiccan, but I don’t practice magick or anything crazy like that. Wicca is my religion. I was raised on it.” She snapped her mouth shut so she wouldn’t babble on. The man made her feel vulnerable and awkward. Not to mention…not many people would instantly take her for Wiccan at the sight of her pentagram.

He threw the twenty on the table and stood. The faint scent of his cologne—spicy, a bit woody—assaulted her senses. He glanced at her necklace-free throat. “Too bad you have to hide it because of the ignorance of others.”

Oh. She was in love.

Rendered momentarily speechless, she looked down at his bill. “Uh, let me get your change—”

“No, keep it.” He turned and left.

She picked up the twenty and his bill. His coffee with free refills had only been a buck twenty-five.

Mira is definitely a “fish out of water” when she discovers she’s actually a witch. Later in life than usual for a witch, she has to start from ground zero and learn about herself and her power. Has there ever been a time in your life when you’ve been thrust into an entirely new situation and been forced to adapt quickly? I can think of several times in my own life. How about you?

Leave a comment for a chance to win an autographed copy of WITCH FIRE. Don’t forget to check back tomorrow it see if you’ve won. Good luck!

THIS CONTEST IS NOW CLOSED

THIS CONTEST IS NOW CLOSED.

Even the most powerful hands need a delicate touch…

Emmaline Gallagher is a master of wielding personal glamour. As a free fae who lives among humans, she must hide her true self at all times as she works undercover within the powerful Phaendir—for if certain factions within the Phaendir gain control, the fae will be wiped from existence. Now, an object of fae power lies within a locked ancient box. And there is only one fae who can forge the key.

Known as “the Blacksmith” Aeric O’Malley can create or destroy almost anything with his forging skills. Emmaline has come to him in need, but he and Emmaline have a past—and he has spent centuries wanting to take revenge on her for her transgressions. But now that he has her within his grasp, something about her keeps him from exacting his vengeance—or is it merely her glamour blinding him?

Trapped by fate, Emmaline must hope that she can reach Aeric’s furious heart before it’s too late….

Excerpt from CRUEL ENCHANTMENT

He moved closer and her whole body stiffened. “So we’ve established that you killed Aileen and you’re lying about the circumstances to save your pretty ass. We’ve also established that I’m unable to kill you. The only question that remains is how I should make you pay.”

His gaze raked her up and down and his body reacted. His too big clothing hid her curves, but he’d had enough of a tantalizing glimpse of them during her shower to let his imagination run wild.

The very last thing he should be doing right now was remember the way her body looked behind that frosted glass. It was almost worse than having her naked. The image behind the shower door hinted at lush breasts—an overflowing handful—a narrow waist that flared into a generous, curvy bottom, and shapely legs.

He wanted to find out for sure, using his hands and maybe his tongue, too.

He’d brutally suppressed the urge before, tamping down the attraction he felt for her because it wasn’t right. Now, in the violent wake of what Emmaline had told him and his subsequent confusion over whether or not it was true—all that want came rushing back at him. It didn’t matter that it was horribly misplaced.

And damned if he could remember why he shouldn’t give in to it.

* * * * * * * * *
He was looking at her without anger in his eyes for once.

Okay, maybe there was a little anger in his eyes, but she had the feeling that the anger—for whatever mystical and unbelievable reason—wasn’t directed at her, but at himself. And anger wasn’t the only thing in his expression right now; there was hunger, too.
And that was all for her.

Her heart thudded so fast and so hard she thought it might break her ribs. What the hell? His behavior had changed so quickly she practically had whiplash.

“Aeric?” she whispered. She wasn’t even aware his name had slipped past her lips until it was out there. She didn’t know what to do with this sudden turn of events . . . although her body sure seemed to know. Her mind was awhirl with confusion, but the rest of her was quite aware that the man she’d wanted and fantasized about for so long was inches away from her . . . and seemed to actually want her back.

“Fuck,” he growled, bracing his hand on the wall right near her ear and moving closer to her. “This is not a good thing.”

“No.” She licked her lips—a nervous habit she’d had since she was a kid, no matter what guise she used. “This is not a good thing for either of us.”

His mouth almost brushed hers when he spoke. Her body flared to life, singing to almost painful arousal. Her nipples leapt to hard little points and she ached between her thighs. This man seemed to either terrify her, piss her off, or plunge her straight into animalistic heat.

His voice was a low growl, laced with anger. “I should chain you to my bed in charmed iron and take my revenge that way.”

She closed her eyes, her breath shuddering out of her. “I wouldn’t object.”

His eyes narrowed like a hunter’s sighting prey—and, boy, was she ever. Wounded, limping prey at that. She had no chance. “Don’t you have any shame?” he asked in a low, harsh voice.

“Not where you’re concerned. I never have.”

He eased her against him and dropped his mouth to her throat. Goose bumps erupted all over her skin. He nipped her flesh and then licked the small hurt. As though he wanted to punish her, but couldn’t make himself do it…..

Normally I would ask a question and have you answer it, but today I’m just going to ask that you make a comment to enter for a chance to win an autographed copy of this book. You can ask me a question, too, if you have any, and I’ll do my best to answer. Don’t forget to check back tomorrow to see if you’ve won! Good luck!

THIS CONTEST IS NOW CLOSED.

Grand Prize ~ $75 gift certificate to the book store of the winner’s choice

Runner-Up Prize ~ $25 gift certificate to the book store of the winner’s choice

Plus chances to win books every day until November 2nd.

Defined by magic. Ruled by desire.

In the Court of Edaeii, magic-imbued Evangeline is rewarded for her gift in manipulating emotion with a sapphire stone set into the perfect curve of her lower back. Her greatest rival in the royal court is the enigmatic Anatol, instilled with the power of illusion. He may better her in magic, but he is her absolute equal in passion.

They share something else—they’re both targets of low-born revolutionaries bent on overthrowing the palace of the privileged few. Rescued from the mobs by Gregorio, the brilliant revolutionary mastermind, they’re given sanctuary. But in this warm refuge, Evangeline soon finds herself torn between the magic of one man she has always desired, and the excitingly new and radical moves of another. For her, there is only one choice.

Evangeline, Anatol and Gregorio come together as one to explore the possibilities of love beyond reason, and to indulge in pleasure without limits.

Read the first chapter

Pre-order at Amazon

Pre-order at Barnes & Noble

Join me every day until November 2nd (except Sundays) to celebrate the release of Jeweled! I’ll be giving away a book from my backlist every day (with the exception of one special surprise treat). The grand prize and the runner-up prizes are book store gift certificates for $75 and $25, respectively, (the winners can choose the stores).

Rules/Directions for the Book-a-Day Contests:

1.) Check back every day to see what book is being given away and who the winner was from the day before.
2.) Enter each day for a chance to win. If you win a book, you’re eligible to win again, so keep trying!
3.) All winners are responsible for checking back to see if they’ve won. They must contact me within two weeks of the announcement to collect their prize — anya(at)anyabastauthor.com
4.) All contests are open to non-U.S. entrants. I will pay to send the book overseas if you win and you don’t reside in the United States.
5.) Contests are void where prohibited.

Rules/Directions for the Grand Prize and the Runner-up Book Store Gift Certificate Prizes:

1.) To enter for a chance to win the book store gift certificates, read the question below and answer it in the comments. You have from today until November 2nd to enter. I will announce the winners of the book store GCs on November 3rd.
2.) Don’t forget to check back on November 3rd to see if you won! All winners must contact me within two weeks of the announcement to collect their prize.
3.) This contest is open to non-U.S. residents, BUT PLEASE NOTE that the GCs must be purchased for use at a U.S. book store using U.S. currency. If you can work that out, go ahead and enter.

This post will remain sticky for the grand prize/runner-up entrants. Scroll down for the book-a-day giveaways. The book-a-day giveaways will begin on Tuesday, October 19th. Good luck!

Question for the Grand Prize and Runner-Up Prizes of the $75 and $50 book store gift certificates:

In JEWELED the overall theme for all the characters is pushing past comfort zones to find new ways to survive. In the end, sloughing off the past and embracing new ways of living works out exceptionally well for all three of them, although it’s frightening at first.

I think most of us are afraid of change and tend to cling to what’s familiar and comfortable in our lives. What do you think? I know I have familiar routines I cherish–two cups of green tea in the morning, walking on the treadmill every day. Do you have routines like that? Have you ever voluntarily (or perhaps involuntarily) made radical changes in your life for the better?