The Bonding: Book 1 in the Tribe Warrior Series


He must choose – her life – or his freedom.

Tam is brutal. Hard. Uncompromising. Resigned to a lifetime alone. Until he finds a woman frozen in space, suffering from a deadly disease. There’s only one way to save her – to Bond her to him for life with his mind, his body, and his serum.

She must choose – her people – or his love.

When her planet is invaded by alien slavers, Nissa launches into space in a cryo-pod in a desperate search for help. Tam may be her savior, but their future is not meant to be.

In a universe at war, Nissa and Tam battle their dangerous addiction and their own stubborn hearts. Their strange part-chemical, part-mystical Bonding brought them together – and just might be what tears them apart.

A little about Imogen first:


Hi! Call me Immy!

I’ve got a stupid-rampant imagination for all things silly, sexy and sordid. It’s hard to keep it all in, so I write down my day-dreams and my night-dreams into the form of big alpha heroes and the ladies who love them.

I hope you enjoy reading them as much as I enjoy writing them! Sign up for my newsletter at for a sneak peak into the world of Argentus, as well as information about my upcoming novel!

Thank you!

RA Winter’s Review: 5-stars

Today we are reviewing Imogen Keeper.  I’m a wee bit biased when it comes to Imogen.  If you take a look at her book, The Bonding, you will find a name, mine, thanking me for my support.   I didn’t do anything besides enjoy her story.  She, however, helped me with my writing and I thanked her in my dedication.

Imogen is the first erotic work I ever read.  She had popped over on a writing site we both belong to and critiqued one of my pieces.  I always crit back, so I ran over to have a look-see.  The first thing I saw was ‘warning, erotica’.  I cringed.  To me, erotica was porn on pages.  You know, pizza guy comes for a delivery and finds two girls having a go at it.  He joins in, cause you know, it’s a porno and hey, who doesn’t want to do the pizza guy?  You’re reading sarcasm, right?

A mutual friend told me that I’d never regret reading her and that she could teach me a lot.  He was right, (Peter is always right.) The second I read Imogen’s first chapter, I was hooked.  A wonderful story and the voice?  So nice and clean.  Imogen does the deep 3rd person so well.  She doesn’t have to pull you into her story.  You step into it and beg for more.  Then I got to the sex. I’m a sex skimmer, or at least I used to be Pre-Imogen.  I couldn’t believe that I enjoyed reading the intimate scenes.  Since then, each erotic piece I read is measured by The Bonding.  Not many stand up to its plot and delivery.

Imogen’s writing has a flow to it that few can match.  It is natural, precise, and so engaging. The plot is very entertaining too!  I’m so glad I read this because, without it, I’d have blinders on and would be ignoring erotica as a valid reading option.  Yep, I’d still be a sex skimmer without Imogen Keeper.

Erotica isn’t porn on paper.  Erotica is a story that is driven by sex.  Imogen combined romance, erotica, and Sci-Fi in the perfect fashion.

And come on!  A saving Serum?  Just too good to ignore.

Loved it!  Five Stars.  And yes, if I hadn’t read it before, I’d still give it five stars.

Sherry Terry’s Review: 5-stars

I loved The Bonding from the first word all the way to the last word. It’s got a lot of great Scifi techy stuff that made me feel like I was in space with the characters. The cover promised a love story, and it delivered.

I don’t usually read Scifi because it’s not written the way I like. The Bonding may have just changed my mind. I enjoyed the way Imogen Keep introduced the Scifi aspects with just enough but not too much.

The characters were well rounded and described with enough detail to give me a good idea of what they look like. Tam is a big, strong space warrior and when he finds Nissa the choice is not so simple for him. Rescue her and save her life by having sex with her, or let her die.

I thought the way Imogen worked the sex into the story was wonderful. Nice and hot.

I recommend this book to anyone who likes erotica, romance, and Scifi.

Please feel free to leave your thoughts in the comments.


Blown Away: A Marital Misunderstanding


BLOWN AWAY is a dark domestic comedy pitting an aging trophy wife against her clueless husband and her sexually awakening daughter.

When a suspicious wife learns her husband was seen kissing his stepdaughter she leaps to conclusions, and widowhood becomes an option. The old wisecrack about a husband trading in a forty for a pair of twenties is no joke when you’re the forty.

Honey Poitrine, former beauty queen, infomercial actress, and single mom of a pre-teen daughter, is selling Magic Ladders at home shows. Her daughter Magnolia is already street smart when she and Honey meet Mac McClintock, another hustler, running his construction company out his car trunk. Mac knows minority-owned businesses have an edge in winning government contracts, and he forms H. Poitrine & Associates LLC. He also knows a wife, even a trophy wife, can’t testify against her husband. And vice-versa.


A Little About Deforest First:

Deforest Day graduated from Yale University longer ago than he wishes to contemplate. After a lengthy career as vagabond journeyman and agent provocateur he retired to the safer craft of Novelist.



Sherry Terry’s Review: 4-Stars

Blown Away by Deforest Day is a good story. The cover gave me the impression I would get some humor and the book does have some funny spots and giggle worthy situations. The sentences are strong and show lots of action. It is written in Omnipresence, and I did spend time confused as to where I was at and what character’s head I was in, but not for long.

Deforest does a good job of telling a story full of corruption that leeches into all aspects of the plot.

The story starts strong, and I liked how the three main characters meet, but then we jump several years into the future where Honey and Mac are married and rich. I thought a little more was needed to get us from Mac asking Honey and her daughter, Mags out to dinner to being several years in the future. I felt I missed a lot there.

Spider was my favorite character, his wit and down home mannerisms were funny.  I liked the way he handled situations with a no-nonsense approach.

This is a funny story filled with twits and turns, bad guys, and a lots of sub -plots to tangle the issues Honey has in believing her daughter and husband are having an affair.

I recommend this book to anyone who likes lots of characters who make things go awry.

RA Winter’s Review:  4-stars

If you are a reviewer reader, and who isn’t? Then you’ll enjoy reading the reviews of Deforest Day’s book Blown Away: A Marital Misunderstanding. The headlines say it all. Blown Away blew me away, A churning concoction of plastiqué, cash and sex, The explosive humor of Catch-22…, Grab This!, Another great read from Deforest, A charming romp! I could go on.

Blown Away: A Marital Misunderstanding is written in Omni, so that we ‘get into’ each of the characters, their motivation, their good and bad. Readers will enjoy the story that is woven around so many characters. Including the crazy old guy, Spider.

Characters are the forefront of this story and drive it to the end. Misunderstandings perpetrated by a crazy explosive guy. A trophy wife who’s past her prime (but don’t tell her that) she can’t help but be suspicious of her daughter… her husband’s stepchild.

This is an intellectually stimulating book. No dribble here.

Please feel free to leave your thoughts or a review in the comments.







Animus and Night Fire

This author is so good, we couldn’t narrow it down to just one. This week you get two books for review by Ophelia Bell.

A little about Ophelia first:

Ophelia Bell loves a good bad-boy and especially strong women in her stories. Women who aren’t apologetic about enjoying sex and bad boys who don’t mind being with a woman who’s in charge, at least on the surface, because pretty much anything goes in the bedroom.

Ophelia grew up on a rural farm in North Carolina and now lives in Los Angeles with her own tattooed bad-boy husband and four attention-whoring cats.

If you’d like to receive regular updates on Ophelia’s publications, freebies, and discounts, please subscribe to her mailing list.

Animus (Sleeping Dragons Book 1)

For Erika and her team of Ivy League-educated archaeologists, trekking through a hot, wet jungle and penetrating the depths of the elusive dragon temple they’ve been hunting is all in a day’s work. Little do they know that once inside, their minds and bodies will become immersed in centuries-old magic, the tantalizing effects of which they are powerless to resist.

In spite of her attempts to prove she still has control, the magic compels Erika to begin a series of rituals to revive the long-sleeping denizens within the temple. Uncertain what to expect, her desire wins out when she sets eyes on the figure she is meant to awaken—a red dragon bound in the form of a beautiful man frozen in jade but definitely ready for her attention.

Read the first chapter of Animus with a lively discussion. Join the fun and leave your thoughts in the comments section.

Sherry Terry’s Review: 4.9 Stars

Animus made me fall in love with shapeshifting dragons! I’ve never read a story like this before, but a friend suggested that I take a look at this one. I’m willing to read just about anything, and when I saw erotica and dragons I figured why not. The cover is intriguing, and promises some steamy action. It did not disappoint, and Ophelia Bell has done a splendid job with Animus (Sleeping Dragons Book 1).

The story opens with great writing and lots of good phrases and word choices that sucked me right into the scene. I’ve often wondered how authors introduce sex with dragons and other shapeshifters, and I think Ophelia Bell did a fantastic job of making me believe in the concept. If for a brief time, I felt the possibility that hot dragonshifters are possible.

I give this book 4.5 out of 5 stars. I wanted more characterization. Enough was given to make me want to find out more about them, but when the book ended I wanted more of their history within the story.

The sex is steamy hot and drives the story. I love how Ophelia worked her magic to show why the sex drives the story, but I think maybe another thousand words or so for the characters would have really sent Animus over the edge to raw perfection.

I wanted it to be longer. I was surprised when the story ended, and it felt a little abrupt. And, it made me want to read the next installment all the more. I was expecting more of a novella so we could really get to know the character’s individual stories. Don’t get me wrong, Animus is a fantastic story, and it’s extremely well written. I just think it could be longer for a better ending. I cannot wait to read the next installment.

I recommend Animus to lovers of dragons, shapeshifting, hot sex, and a quick read.

RA Winter’s Review: 4 Stars

The story for Animus centers around a young girl who is following her father’s research into dragons. She believes they were real once and walked among us.

In the first chapter, she finds the temple and these erotic statues of dragons. Now, her porter says she can awake them… in the naughtiest way possible.

This book is very heavy erotica, it’s not for the faint of heart. Erotica drives the story along, it’s the only way to awaken the dragons.

Ophelia doesn’t pussy foot around the sex here, it is deeply meshed into the story. It drives the story along with each beat. If you like more story than erotica, this might not be your cup of tea. That being said, it is very well written and original. As always, the sex is great.

I did like the story line, it was a wonderful way to weave in the shifter elements of the dragons. In the first book, two are awakened, but we don’t know the consequences nor do we know if the others will awaken. That comes in the rest of the series.

Ophelia has an engaging style that keeps you reading and wanting more. If you love fantasy/paranormal/shifter/erotica, this book is for you.

Night Fire (Rising Dragons Series Book 1)

Rafe and Rowan’s Story
Rowan grew up believing she was an outcast, but found her place in the world nonetheless. Or so she believed. Her unusual features attract a very unusual and attractive man when she’s in a night club looking for a new sexual diversion. What she doesn’t know is that this man knows more about her than she knows herself—he knows what she really is. She falls in love with him in the process of opening her eyes to the world she really belongs in. But his love may not be enough to make her stay.

Read the first chapter of Night Fire with a lively discussion. Join the fun and leave your thoughts in the comments section.

Sherry Terry’s Review: 4.9 Stars

Once I finished reading Animus, I had to have more of Ophelia Bell. Night Fire hit the spot. The cover promises a romance, and it does deliver. I loved where the characters met and how they met. The instant chemistry between them was palpable, leaping off the page and grabbing me. After that, I couldn’t put it down.

This is a fast, delightful read with lots of steamy scenes. I don’t want to give anything away, and this is a dragonshifter story, so I have to mention the how they shapshift is amazingly done. For a non-believer in humans changing into dragons, I’ve been sucked into the notion by Ophelia’s writing.

My score of 4.9 is because I wanted to see more characterization, more of their story. I was prepared for the fast ending, however I still think this could be lengthened a tad more for a 5 star experience.

I recommend this book to anyone who loves romance, steamy sex, and dragons.

RA Winter’s Review: 5 Stars

I’m newer to erotica.  I’ve only been reading it for a couple of years.  Once I decided to widen my horizons, a whole new world opened up.
I entered a contest and won one of Ophelia’s books.  Her name has been around for a while, and I recognized her brand, but I’ve never read one of her books.  Boy, have I been missing out!
Erotica to me should have a story and Ophelia delivers in Night Fire.  The thought of dragon erotica gave me a pause, a very long one but once I dived in, there is no going back.
Paranormal, erotica and a wonderful story.  Ophelia offers up a few books for free, so you’re not out anything but some time to get to know her.  The writing is flawless, clear, concise and engaging.
In Night Fire, Ophelia brings us into her world, where dragons are another species of humans.  Ones who can change their form, and love sex a wee bit more than their human counterparts.  Flawlessly, she introduces the premise to the story, the ground work is woven inside a real page turner of erotic temptations.
I know you’ll love her writing as much as I do. So, grab a copy and give us your thoughts.  You’ve read the First Chapter, now delve deeper and enjoy the whole series.  Erotica Paranormal is about escape, and escape you will, to a whole new world.
I’m loving it.
Now, what are your thoughts?

Click on covers for more information:







Yeager’s Law


Abel Yeager is dead broke, down on his luck, and suffering from a serious case of what-the-hell-does-it-matter. His transition from active Marine to stateside long-haul trucker hit a wicked speed bump when his rig was involved in a wreck that claimed the life of a pregnant woman and laid him up for several months.

Back at work but deeply in debt, Yeager meets bookstore owner Charlie Buchanan in St. Louis and jumps at the chance to haul a load of remainder books to Austin for her. On the way south, a crew of truck thieves tracks his every move. But none of them know what Charlie’s ex has smuggled inside the book pallets, who he stole it from, or how far the owner will go to get it back. Charlie’s the first person Yeager has cared about in a long time, but as their bond deepens, so does the danger they’re in.

With enemy forces closing in, Yeager battles greed, corruption, and his own fatalism in a bid to hold true to Yeager’s First Law: come home at the end of the day.

A little about Scott first:


Scott Bell holds a degree in Criminal Justice from North Texas State University, and has enjoyed careers in both asset protection as well as sales. With the kids grown and time on his hands, Scott turned back to his first love—writing.

His short story, Mitchellsville is published in The Western Online. Dave’s Aliens is in the anthology Person Suit. Government Waste is in the anthology, Desolation, and Mr. Scampers War is published in episode 82 of Cast of Wonders.

Scott is the author of Yeager’s Law, Yeager’s Mission, April’s Fool, and Working Stiffs. For more on all of Scott’s books, go to Author Central.

Sherry’s Review: 5 Stars

Scott Bell hit it out of the park! Five out of five stars from me!

This is the first book I read by Scott Bell, and I loved it! The cover is mysterious and intrigued me enough to open to the first page. My father is a retired truck-diver, so I couldn’t resist the urge to see if Mr. Bell knows big rigs. I am pleased t announce he put me back in the passenger’s seat of my father’s Kenworth.

My favorite genre to read is romance not guns blazing, bombs exploding, and good guys saving the world from the bad guys unless there is some romance thrown in – but – I loved this action-packed, adventurous, thrilling, mysterious, suspenseful book. It had me on the edge of my chair from word one.

I couldn’t put Yeager’s Law down! Able Yeager is just my kind of hunk-a-hunk of burnin’ love and he doesn’t even know it. Scott’s ability to weave together multiple character’s stories and situations into one knock-out book is beyond compare. All the characters are well-rounded and feel like they could be real people.

Scott knows his weaponry. Anyone who loves to read about tactile military stuff will love Yeager’s Law, and Scott has the skills to seamlessly show all the details that add to the suspense with ease.

I strongly recommend this book to everyone. I don’t care what you always read, give this book a try then come back and tell me what you think.

First Chapter – for discussion:

Chapter 1

Highway 67

Near Judsonia, NE Arkansas

Two hours after dawn, at the wheel of his Peterbilt, Abel Yeager glanced at the fuel gauge. His frown turned into a deep scowl. Maybe it’s just kidding. He tapped the gauge with a blunt finger, as if he thumped it hard enough, fifty gallons of diesel would reappear. Instead, the needle sank closer to E.

He shook the last two antacid tablets from the family-sized bottle he kept in the center console and crunched the cherry-flavored chalk. If Tums had nutritional value, he would never have to stop for food again.

Yeager did the math. Again. He would need to refuel before Chicago. After that, he could either hang around the terminal looking for a load, or dead-head back to McAllen, making at least one more fuel stop along the way. Another chance at plasticide, playing Russian Roulette with Visa, MasterCard, and American Express. He maybe had one more attempt at a balance transfer before they caught on to his bill shuffling.

Traffic had thinned the farther he got from Little Rock. A black Lexus was pacing him in his rearview mirror. The driver hung back at a steady half-mile distance, not passing, not pulling off, and not falling back. It itched like a bug bite that was just out of reach. Probably nothing more than a civilian who happened to be going the same way. That happened sometimes on long stretches of Interstate.

Nothing to get your panties in a bunch over. Yeager twisted his neck, making it crackle, and decided it was time for a pit stop.

He pulled his rig into a rest area on US Highway 67 outside of Judsonia, Arkansas. A block building stuck on the edge of a soybean field, with state-maintained toilets and concrete picnic benches, was flanked by parking lots for trucks on one side, cars on the other. He had the place to himself at eight o’clock on a Monday morning.

He grabbed a dog-eared copy of Field & Stream, locked the cab, and headed for the john. A mild June breeze ruffled the soybean fields that stretched as far as a rifle shot across the red clay soil to a distant tree line. A rabbit bolted from the mown grass of the rest area and bounded into the field, white tail flashing.

Yeager paused to watch it. We’re hunting wabbits. A kid in his old platoon, Sonny, could imitate Elmer Fudd as if channeling the spirit of Mel Blanc. Platoon C, sweating, tired, and edgy, would be on the trail of some Taliban bad guys deep in Indian country, then Sonny would turn around and whisper, “Be vewy, vewy quiet. We’re hunting Tawwiban. Heheheheheh.” The guys would crack up.

The New Jersey boy had stayed in Southern California after mustering out. He, his wife, and two kids shared a three-bedroom bungalow with his brother.

Sonny had called him last week and said, “Yo, Staff Sergeant, you’ll never guess. I got a job.”

“What? Hey, that’s great.”

“Yeah, I’m a route man for the Bud distributor. I drive around with cases and cases of beer, man. Can you believe it? Beer, beer everywhere and I don’t even drink.”

“That’s good news, Sonny. Glad to hear it. Don’t make the mistake I did and buy your own truck, amigo. It ain’t worth the hassle.”

After a long pause, Sonny cleared his throat. “Ah…”

“Spit it out, Private.”

“It’s about the money, Staff Sergeant.”

“What money?”

“Yeah, funny. Look, man, I’ll pay you back.”

“Bullshit you will,” Yeager said. “What you’re gonna do is go into HR tomorrow and start taking out ten percent—not five, not eight, but ten percent—of your pay, and you’re gonna put that in a college fund for your yard monkeys.”


“Did you just use the word ‘but’ with me, Private? Did I hear that come out of your mouth? Because if I did, you know I’ll reach through this phone and rip your lungs out through your mouth. You feelin’ me, Marine?”

“Yes, Staff Sergeant.”

“Good. Now give Maria a kiss from me, and go do what I say.”

“Aye-aye, Staff Sergeant.”

Pushing open the door to the restroom, Yeager cracked a tiny smile and sent Sonny a silent prayer of goodwill.


The black Lexus glided into the rest area and purred to a stop behind the dumpsters, concealed from the big rig.


“Yes, Jaime, mi hijo,” Humberto Cruz said. “You know what to do?”

“Of course.”

“Julio, back him up. Hector, stay here and keep an eye out. You have your tire iron?”

Hector nodded and slapped the length of iron bar into one hand. Cruz had seen him use it once. From what he could tell, Hector had enjoyed the experience.

Car doors thudded, and Cruz watched the team go to work. Several times, he had considered telling them his real objective, but in the end, he’d decided to keep that to himself. Sharing family business with a bunch of kids seemed… unworthy.

Those three were all he had available. Talent was hard to find with the cartels ratcheting up the pressure for shooters. Getting men who wanted to train for something as simple as hijacking wasn’t easy.

Jaime practically skipped toward the target.

Cruz smiled. To be so young… He shut off the engine, climbed out of the car, and stretched his aching back.

Jaime went to work on the truck’s door while Julio kept watch. They moved quickly, and Cruz nodded in approval. In a minute, maybe less, they would have the truck, leaving Señor Yeager without a livelihood.

Cruz sneered as an American phrase popped into his head. Payback’s a bitch.

Yeager washed his hands and face with the pinkish soap from the dispenser. In the mirror over the sink, he saw a man he hardly recognized. Tiny crow’s feet attacked the corners of his eyes. Sad eyes, women said, on those rare occasions when a woman had gotten close enough to comment on them. To him, they simply looked bloodshot and tired, more defeated than sad.

He dried off with a wad of paper towels, headed outside, and followed the concrete path back to his truck. A slim Hispanic kid was leaning against the fender.

Where’d he come from? Yeager spared a quick glance around. The parking area remained vacant, aside from his truck. A sparkling green quilt backdrop lay across the surrounding fields, the dew not yet burned off.

The guy wore jeans, cowboy boots, and an untucked Western shirt. Though his hair was cut high in the back, a long chunk of it fell over his forehead. The boy had to keep flipping it out of his eyes with a head toss.

He’s gonna ask for a handout. One of those come-ons like: Hey, can you lend me a dollar for the bus, so I can get back home. A scam. It’s always a scam. Yeager sighed and patted his pockets to see if he had any change.

Hairflip whistled through his teeth, and another Mexican kid barely old enough to shave popped his head up from behind the rig’s steering wheel.

What the hell? I locked the cab. Yeager stalked closer, throttling his temper. Maybe they weren’t trying to steal his truck. Maybe it was all a big mistake. Sure. And chocolate milk comes from brown cows.

Too often lately, anger simmered near the surface. Not much feeling remained in the black hole where his heart had once lived, other than a pulsar of annoyance and bitterness that flared when he was upset. Like matter collapsing into the gravity well of a dead star, every other emotion had been crushed, condensed, and compressed by an unending implosion of bad luck and trouble. Divorce. The wreck. Six months of physical therapy. One damn thing after another.

Law Number Eight: Never fight angry.

Well. Fuck that. “You boys lost?” Yeager smiled, jaw clenched. “You needing a ride?”

A growling rig climbed the rise on US 67, downshifted, and rattled off into the distance. The breeze carried the scent of compost and diesel.

Hairflip held up his hand in a stop gesture. He strutted over and jabbed that hand into Yeager’s chest, fingers spread. A lava flow of irritation bubbled from Yeager’s belly.

The one in the cab had a ragged caterpillar of a mustache, and his gelled hair made him look like a teenage maître d’. His eyes peeping over the top of the steering wheel were as big as hubcaps.

Hairflip shook his head. “Señor, is best you go.”

“Can’t do that, amigo.”

The puffed-up little delinquent tried a tough look, but his response came out petulant. “Go! We are taking this truck, Señor. Go away, and you will not get hurt.”

Yeager snapped the boy’s hand into a wristlock and took him down to one knee. “Now, son, I need this here truck. I borrow it every month from the bank, and they’d be upset, I was to lose it. You boys can walk away from this. Just nod your head if you understand.”

The kid’s mouth opened, and his eyes widened as he squirmed, trying to ease the pressure on his wrist, but Yeager had a solid grip. Yeager twisted the thief’s hand back until the wrist turned white. He let out a breath and held short of the breaking point. Another half-ounce would do it. A tweak, really. Yeager grimaced and eased the pressure, gaining control of the bubbling little flare of hot violence.

The young hijacker in the cab scrambled down like a kid on a jungle gym. He hit the ground and dug into his waistband.

Law Number Six. Do something. Right or wrong, do something, and do it fast.

Yaeger hit Hairflip with the force of a diesel piston firing, clubbing him with an iron fist framed by heavy bone and ridged with calluses. Something cracked in the punk’s face, and he tumbled down, eyes rolling back in his head.

Yeager stepped over him and closed on the other kid, bull fast. He had another gear when it came to hand-to-hand combat. He shifted from DEFCON 2 to Wrath of God mode.

The boy’s mouth flew open with a startled squawk. He scrambled back, whipping out a lock-blade knife with four inches of wicked-sharp steel. He flashed the blade—a poor man’s Zorro sword—and rattled off something in Spanish. The kid lunged, stabbing at Yeager’s belly. Yeager deflected the blade and snared the kid’s wrist, inverting the knife-arm. Using his right hand like an ax, he chopped the back of the kid’s elbow.

The arm made a wet, popping sound, like a turkey being torn up at Thanksgiving dinner. Screaming, the kid dropped the knife. He folded over, cradling his broken arm, and yammered away in Spanish, bawling and screeching.

Sounds a lot like my ex-wife. Knows some of the same words, too. Yeager kicked the knife, sending it skittering under the truck.

Footsteps scuffed behind him, and he pivoted. A third guy rushed around the front of the Peterbilt, a tire iron cocked, set to take off Yeager’s head. Older and bigger, the new attacker had deep-set eyes and a mat of black hair cropped tight to his skull.

The pure, blazing-hot joy of action flared in Yeager’s belly. Like the cool crust over a lake of boiling magma, his shell of indifference cracked, and golden warmth poured out. Fighting was something he could do. That, he understood.

Yeager ducked, and the metal bar whooshed past his ear. He came up into the big guy’s middle with an uppercut that took the wind out of his attacker. Bad breath exploded in a huff, and the bigger thief staggered, face already turning red.

Yeager stepped back and measured off a right cross that rocked the guy back on his heels, sending the tire iron ringing off the pavement. The thief shook his head like a wounded bull. Yeager kicked him in the crotch then slammed both palms over the big man’s ears. The guy dropped to the ground, one hand over an ear, the other cupping his balls.

Yeager sucked in a deep breath. Not many years ago, a fight like this would have been a good warm-up. Not anymore. He felt as if he’d run up a hill at Camp Pendleton with a full rucksack. He threw the tire iron into the field and stepped toward his truck to retrieve his cell phone. Calling the cops would result in a monumental loss of road time, but hijackers were bad for business. Getting those guys locked up might make the road safer for another trucker.

Pay it forward: Beat the crap out of hijackers.

With a screech of brakes, a shiny black Lexus slammed to a stop one space away from Yeager’s vehicle. A guy hopped out of the driver’s side and made his way around the front of the car. He was an older man, maybe in his sixties, with a shock of thick white hair gelled back. The guy wore a white Guayabera shirt with black slacks and shiny black shoes.

He also held a blue-steel semi-automatic pistol pointed right at Yeager.


I effortlessly fell right into this story. The writing is extremely well done , all aspects of it from characterization to the settings to the plot to the pace and everything in-between.

I love the way Scott sucked me into the story, and made me care about Yeager right away. The writing does that. The description is just enough to put me at the rest stop, and he weaved in more than one point of view character with style when we went into the head of the bad guy.

Then he brought us effortlessly back into Yeager’s head. I laughed out loud with the name Able gave one of the bad guys, Hair Flip. Hilarious.

The fight scene had me on the edge of my seat, and now Yeager is my book boyfriend. The chapter ended on a note that made me turn the page and start chapter two.

In fact, I couldn’t put this book down. I loved every word.

How do you feel about the way the story opens? Did it grab you?

Please leave a comment on what you think of the first chapter of, Yeager’s Law below. We want to hear what you think!

Click on cover for more details:


No Regrets in Paris

Bad Luck? Check.
Bad Decisions? Check.
Bad Hangovers? Check.
Regrets? No way!
Mike is dumped by his girlfriend while on a trip to Miami, throwing his well ordered life upside-down. Aided by his philandering friend and co-worker Shane, Mike the bachelor makes increasingly bad decisions that threaten to ruin him. While trying to get his life back on track, he learns taking sleeping pills before flying is a terrible idea, why playing rugby impresses women but not your boss, and impersonating a porn star can be hazardous to your health. When Mike meets the woman of his dreams on a trip to Paris, he has the opportunity to turn their fling into something more. Will he be able to keep from screwing it up, or regret the one that got away?
A story of Murphy’s Law, friendship, love, and good intentions gone awry.

Continue reading

a clear day in october


A little about Jim first:

Jim Lewis is an internationally-published poet described by his friends as a Renaissance Man, multi-talented, remarkable, or sometimes as “odd, but in a good way.” By profession, he is a certified Family Nurse Practitioner, with a parallel career in technology. By hobby, he is a musician, writer, photographer, and kayaker.

Jim s interest in writing goes back to his early youth, but he only started to send out his poetry to editors and publishers when he reached his sixties. To his surprise and delight, several pieces were quickly accepted for publication, and so for the first time he envisioned a collection of his favorite poems.

These hand-picked favorites have been paired with his own photography to share with you as a clear day in october.

Continue reading