#WipItUp #MMRomance #Suspense #Action #UrbanFantasy

Yay, the WIpItUp bloghop is up and running again. Thanks,  Meredith 🙂

And perfect timing as my book Vespar is released today. Woot! *tosses confetti*. This has been a path 2 years in the making, so I’m excited for Vespar to see the light of day. This book is a bit different to what you are used to from me. There is no kink. No BDSM. No Spanking. Though there are a couple hot scenes. The Order of the Black Knights is a multi-author MM Action/Suspense Romance series with a wonderful hint of Urban Fantasy to round it out.

In every book, the prologue shows the Knight at the end of the life he lived before his current one. I’m giving you a taste from the beginning of Vespar’s Prologue.


Vespar wheezed past the agony and moved as quickly as he could through the catacombs. The pain that started in his knee had gained purchase in his side and would soon attack his heart. At that point his life would be over. But he won. And that’s what mattered. He once again bested his foe. A lurid smile lifted the right corner of his lips, allowing a trickle of blood the chance to follow the firm cleft of his chin downward.

He grabbed a stone on the wall and managed to stop himself from falling as nausea took hold. Leaning against the stone, he fought to pull in air, but his lungs stopped working as well as they should. It was the poison. Having hunted and killed for almost four decades and always come out on top, Vespar had never met such a worthy adversary. Dipping his sword in poison. It was genius. However, it had not done its job as quickly as Jorsten wished. When he told Vespar to give up, that he was now poisoned, he obviously expected Vespar would do so.

Vespar never gave up. Even as the acidic pain burned in his knee, he grabbed Jorsten’s sword and ran him through. With the fight behind him, he just wanted to get out of the bloody underground tombs and die a natural death out in the air. He hated enclosed spaces and preferred to live and hunt on the land. He should die there as well.

Each intake of breath was more shallow as he stumbled forward, his hand on the broken stone to his right, knowing as long as he followed the path, he would reach the steps that would take him up to the earth.

The tombs, which were already darkened with gas lamps placed quite a distance apart, grew more dim, and he knew the end approached. It was knowledge that came swiftly. He would die down there, just another remnant of the graves. Swearing through chapped lips, he pushed on and stumbled over loose stones and debris. A large stone got in his way, and he pitched forward. The shock of slamming into the steps robbed him of the ability to move for several seconds.

Finally he rolled over, his breath coming in fits and gasps as the acid came perilously close to his heart. He lay on the steps and looked up into the darkness. Thick cobwebs flowed above him, and he watched as they came together, as if each strand knew the other, until they finally became one large canvas.

It probably should have surprised him when scenes from his life flashed in front of him, but it did not.

His first fight.

His first kill.

His first murder.

He watched it with no emotion, no connection whatsoever. The scenes were about him, depicting acts he understood, that he’d needed to do. He just didn’t know why. The scenes morphed into images he couldn’t quite recognize. Images of him, though it wasn’t him. He was dressed like a barbarian, killing with his fingers and teeth. And then more images of him in a kilt, slashing anyone who came close to him with his claymore. Confusion washed over him until an entirely different face filled the canvas.

“Moriel!” he shouted, though in his weakened state, it came out as more of a croak. The man looking at him was one he knew, though he wasn’t quite sure how. And even as that thought occurred to him, memory upon memory flooded back to him of the time he had known the bastard—over eight centuries before, when he made a deal with the devil. As if it were happening to him right that second, he relived the moment that changed everything. A moment he’d failed to recall until then.


Book Cover: Vespar
Available at:



Special ops turned professional killer, Vespar McKauley is hired to take out Marcolm Rogers, son of his employer’s worst enemy. But Marc isn’t like any hit he’s ever done. He’s just twenty-one, he goes to a private university studying English Lit, and for fun he plays computer games with his friends. No drugs, no partying, no crime. The day he bumps into Marc and looks into his azure eyes, the world drops out from under him.

With his father in the Chicago Crime Syndicate, Marc and his mom have stayed out of the limelight, hiding from those that might harm them. He figures he’s safe at a small liberal arts university all the way across the country. Only midway through his senior year, he feels eyes on him and the shadows encroaching. Just as he’s about to run, he meets Vespar and experiences an instant attraction. When Vespar tells him he’s in danger and offers to protect him, Marc wants to believe him. But he’s been hunted before, and this time he isn’t sure he’ll get away. Especially when he finds out he is Vespar’s target.

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