Friday, May 28
***This giveaway has ended, but you should still read the post...it's worth your time:) Thanks for joining the fun!***
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS. That was the first Shannon McKenna book that I read. It completely blew me away...the suspense, the storytelling, the sexy hero. It was also the first introduction fans of her books got of the McCloud brothers...Davy, Connor, Sean and now, FINALLY, Kevin. They've all become cherished keepers on my bookshelves.
Shannon McKenna is here as my guest today to talk about her newest book that came out earlier this week, FADE TO MIDNIGHT, and in case you didn't already know...it's Kevin McCloud's story. The brother everyone thought had died long ago. She was gracious enough to take time out of her very busy schedule to share insight into her book and provide some tempting excerpts. So get comfy and enjoy!
Welcome to Seductive Musings Shannon! I can't tell you how excited I am to have you as my guest today. For you, what makes a romance novel a great love story, and who are some of your favorite authors to read? Who's your new favorite find?
Let’s see, what makes a romance novel a great love story? I guess it's what makes any story a great story--passion. What makes any book work for me is how much the hero and/or heroine care about each other, and what they are doing. It has to be life-or-death important. It's the intensity of the accompanying emotion that makes the book work, whether you’re talking about sex, action scenes, anything else. Without overwhelming emotion, the book is flat. It doesn't have any buzz or zing or flavor, it doesn't burn, it just doesn't work. I believe that you need a powerful emotional payoff in order for the book to do its job.
I remember reading in Anais Nin's "Delta Of Venus," she recounts that when she was writing erotica for a dollar a page, her patron told her to take out the poetry and she protested that how could she? Poetry was her aphrodisiac. That's what the emotion is, for me, and I think also for most romance readers. The heroine and hero have to care about what is happening, in a life-or-death sort of way. If they do, even a scene like the simple handholding in the carriage in the movie "Age Of Innocence" becomes intensely erotic.
As far as new favorites, oh, that's a painful subject for me. I am terribly out of the loop when it comes to new stuff, because I have little kids and my reading time is brutally limited—that is to say, nonexistent--plus, I live abroad where there are no bookstores, and I don’t even have time for online loops and discussions, so the three things combined mean no bookshopping whatsoever. So I'm about a decade out of date, in terms of new authors! There must be such a wealth of wonderful people writing that I know nothing about, and someday, someday I’m going to do something about it!
When it comes to older books, well, I can't confine myself just to romances. Jane Eyre and the Tolkien Trilogy are the first ones that come to mind. Those, plus the Anne of Green Gables books and the Frances Hodgsen Burnett books (The Little Princess, The Secret Garden) are probably the books I reread the most growing up.
The latest thing I have read that actually changed my brain chemistry is Diana Gabaldon’s “An Echo In The Bone.” I’d been waiting four years for that. Yum! Such intense enjoyment and involvement. I had a huge mood crash after I finished it, when my body realized it wasn't going to get any more of that fiction drug. I was depressed and out of sorts for three days! I have to admit, I really, hugely enjoyed the Stephanie Meyers vampire quartet--I'm not ashamed to jump on a global bandwagon now and again! And Edward Cullen is such an intensely romantic, old school hero, almost like the eighteenth century heroes of yore, all tortured and honorable and uptight. And I'm not even a vampire girl. Although I did enjoy the JR Ward series! She’s awesome. Another exception to my rules. Not that I really have rules. I can hardly wait to see the film Eclipse this summer. Yay for the vampire wars.
I don’t have a reliable database of incredible favorites in my head. It depends on my mood, what’s floating to the top on any given day. I’m a Harry Potter freak. I’m a shameless Diana Gabaldon Outlander groupie. I love Jacqueline Carey’s Kushiel series, everything by Guy Gavriel Kay and Neil Gaiman, for fantasy. I’ve always loved Stephen King. I go for Lee Childs, Stephen Hunter, Harlan Coban, Nicci French and Thomas Perry for thrillers. I love the Dean Koontz Odd Thomas series, plus his Seize the Night duet. I love Barry Eisler's John Rain series. I was blown away by Yann Martell's "Life Of Pi" last year. And my tried and true comfort reads are classic Jayne Ann Krentz, Jayne Castle and Amanda Quick novels, plus Linda Howard and Elizabeth Lowell, most specifically her eighties stuff, like the "Only" series. I just could not get enough of those. I just read the Millennium Trilogy by Steig Larsson, and enjoyed it a lot, speaking of global bandwagons. And I love the romantic intensity of Lisa Kleypas novels. "Devil In Winter" was my idea of a perfect "beauty and the beast" set-up. Loved it, loved it. I know there are more, but they’re just not coming to my mind right now. My brain’s been hijacked by Pixie Hollow books and Disney Princesses and Dora, Boots, the Wiggles and Dr. Suess. Someday they tell me I’ll get my brain back. I’ll believe it when I see it.
If you had an opportunity to provide an excerpt or quote from your book, Fade to Midnight, to grab the attention of potential readers and give them a glimpse and feeling of what the book is about what would it be?
I think I would go with the very first scene. I sat in my chair and cogitated with great pain to figure out the most dramatic and evocative moment I could possibly start the book with, so I wouldn’t deviate from the one I chose. I hope it works for you all. I think this is a much longer excerpt than you had in mind . . . hope it’s OK . . .
I am fucked.
The thought flicked through Kev’s head, calm and detached. The roar of icy water filled his ears. The current would pull him loose in counted seconds. Seconds measured by the pounding pulse of blood through his brain. Each throb hurt like a raving motherlover, but there was nothing like imminent death to take a guy’s mind off a headache.
His little angel’s face flashed through his mind. His dream companion, his spirit guide. Her big eyes looked sad, and scared.
He’d known since he got out of bed that the day was going to be day. He’d had that prickle, as if someone was looking at the back of his neck. Not surprising, since he’d set the day aside for high-adrenaline sports activities, his chief joy in what passed for his life. One would think, having gotten a clue from the Great Beyond that death lurked nearby, that a reasonable, sane person would spend the day on the couch, watching reruns. Cruising the mall bookstore, reading about mindfulness or voluntary simplicity. Lying low in a multiplex, watching a nature documentary. Sipping a green tea latte. Well out of sight.
Not him. The reasonable, sane parts of himself were out in space. Along with his memories and his normal and natural fear of death. Danger? Bring it the fuck on. He should be dead already anyway. Look at his face. Kids ran screaming to mommy when they saw his bad side.
Cold had numbed the pain. He no longer felt his hand, clamped around the boughs of the dead tree. He did not feel the compound fracture in his other arm. His injured limb flopped in the water, sucked by the current, a few yards from the head of the falls. His broken bone tented out the nylon of his jacket, pinkish with blood. But he doubted he’d be using that arm again, once the water flung him over the brink.
Whatever. He’d been smash totaled years ago. Living on borrowed time. Half a brain, half a life. No clue at all.
Don’t start with that. Just shut the fuck up. He did crazy shit like this for the express purpose of keeping himself too zapped with adrenaline to indulge in self pity. That was why he hung off the edge of cliffs, hang-glided treacherous air currents, rafted bad-ass rapids. When he was that close to death, he felt buzzing, connected. Almost alive.
Since Tony found him he’d had some mechanism functioning that damped his emotional volume way down. High enough for function, but no more. Probably caused by the trauma to his brain that had caused the amnesia, and rendered him speechless, back in the bad old days.
Whatever it was, he was bored with it. If he could, he’d join the military, fly fighter jets. Playing with toys like that, yeah. Talk about a coping mechanism. But the military wouldn’t want a guy with crossed wires, a questionable identity and a black hole in his mind to fly their hundred million dollar toys. They’d put him to work cleaning engines. If they took him at all. No, he had to make do with high-risk sports. They kicked his ass into high gear, and he liked that gear. The color, the noise. The buzz of being awake to it, aware of it. Giving a shit.
He’d gotten what he wanted. But he was going to pay big. He stared at the top of the falls. Clouds of vapor rose from the thundering tons of water crashing down, hundreds of feet below. How many hundreds? He tried to remember. Several. Well over three. Whoo hah.
Not that he was afraid of dying. At most, he was curious. Sorry he’d never unravel the great questions of his existence, at least not as a living man, and who knew what happened after? He’d never speculated. His present mortal existence was problem enough, for as long as he could remember. Roughly half of his life. He didn’t know how old he was. Tony put him around twenty when he’d saved Kev from the warehouse thug eighteen years ago. So he was fortyish. Give or take.
At least the boy was going to make it. Kev was immobilized by tons of rushing icewater, but out of the corner of his eye, he saw activity in the trees choking the cliffside shore. Rescue proceedings were underway. Other people besides Kev had been at the point when he’d put ashore, where he’d seen the kids spin past, oarless and out of control. Only a guy with a black hole in his brain would be suicidal enough to jump in after them at that point in the rapids, but he’d taken no time to ponder that implacable truth. He just went for it.
And then, a long, hopeless wrestle with nature while the water got wilder, the roar of the falls louder.
While death approached, smiling. Happy to see him. His old pal.
Maybe he’d subconsciously wanted it. Bruno threw that death wish crap in his face a lot, whenever he got cracked up doing daredevil sports. Could be. Not worth worrying about, though. Particularly now.
The kids had capsized by the time he caught up. Kev saw a bobbing head and scooped one out of the water by sheer, blind luck. Then they plunged into a trough, the raft flipped, and they were tossed like twigs, the boy flailing, choking. He’d clamped the kid against him, struggled, kicked. He’d wanted to save that kid. Wanted it ferociously. He was played out, now, though. In fact, he felt strangely serene.
The other boy was gone, over the falls. That was fucked, and he was sorry. Rescue was on the way for the other one, but the greedy way the water sucked at the tree told him the hard truth.He was going down. Anytime.
He forced his head to turn, checked on the kid. Sixteen or so. A drowned rat, clinging to the lucky side of the rock that split the top of the falls into two long, thin tails, hence the name, Twin Tails Falls. The weight of rushing water pinned him against the bulwark of the rock. He couldn’t move if he wanted to. But he’d live. That was good.
It wasn’t strength or skill that had smacked them up against that jutting rock. Just chance. And then, just as fast, bam. That bastard came up so fast, he barely shoved the kid out of the way before the tree trunk snapped his arm, smashed God only knew what else in his thorax, knocked him loose—and then spun out perpendicular to the falls, catching on a rock across the torrent. It formed a barrier, trapping him against a temporary dam. But not for long.
Smashing him, then saving him. When it worked loose, it would fuck him again, definitively. He’d ride that bastard out over the cliff.
The story of his life. Something inside him laughed, with stony irony. Wasn’t it always the way. Like Tony, who’d dragged Kev out of his own rapids years ago, and kept him there, brain damaged, shambling and speechless. Washing dishes, mopping floors for room and board at the diner. Lying on a sagging cot, watching paint peel in the windowless mildewed room behind the diner where he’d slept. For fucking years.
The rope thrown out to save him. The same rope that he strangled himself on. It was almost funny. Except that it wasn’t.
The tree was about to go. The branches stuck on the rocks on the other side were wavering, wild water bending the flexible limbs, teasing them loose. The tree shuddered, rolled. The water sucked and insisted.
Any time now. He composed himself, tried to pay attention, to be present for it, to breathe. Difficult. So cold. So much water. The kid’s mouth gaped, begging Kev to do something. As if he could swim against that current, even if he weren’t fucked up. He had as much strength left as a broken doll. A final swell shook the tree loose. The ponderous slow motion made those last moments of clinging stretch out, infinitely long.
He struggled to stay conscious. The last wild ride. He’d better enjoy it. He wondered if he’d know, once he was dead, who he’d been before. What he’d done, who he’d known. Who he’d loved.
Probably not. This was all he got. It would just have to do.
Whoosh, the river rolled him under the tree and spat him far out into vastness. Endless space, above, below. Turning, head over ass.
The angel flashed across his mind. Those big gray eyes, so achingly sweet. A sharp sting of regret that he didn’t understand. And another face, too, scowling his disapproval as the immutable laws of physics had their stern way with him. A face he saw in his dreams every night. A young guy. His face maddeningly familiar.
Kev had been having a dream argument with that guy, that very morning, he suddenly remembered. The man had been scolding him.
“Dying is easy. You told me that yourself,” the guy said. “It’s living that’s hard. Meathead. Hypocrite. You piss me off.”
So that was how he’d known today would be dangerous.
Part of his mind hooted and shrieked with unreasoning joy at the icy rush of air and water, on his face. Whoa. This shit is fun. Another part pondered acceleration rates of falling objects, wind shear, probable force of impending impact on the rocks below. He calculated it down to ten digits after the decimal in that last, eternal instant—
And hurtled into a blank, white nothing.
Readers like myself have waited for years, years I tell you, with baited breath for Kevin McCloud's story! He has to be one of your most requested characters to get their own book. Did this surprise you at all, or was this your devilishly clever writer's plan to make us mourn for him like his brothers...believing that he had died long ago, only to find out he is alive? And why did we have to wait so long :)
My apologies for the long wait! Devilishly clever, indeed. Hah. I’m just muddling desperately along as best I can! The shocking truth is, for the longest time, I had no idea Kev was alive at all. For me, he was no more than a distant, poignant tragedy in the lives of the McCloud brothers. Then I found out while writing EDGE OF MIDNIGHT that the body in the grave was not his, and I was totally gob-smacked. And then readers started agitating and asking, and poking and prodding. And I finally realized that he really needed his own book.
Oh, man. I knew it would be a humdinger. There was such a vast disconnect between the other books and Kev’s. Eighteen years. An abyss of silence and mystery. How does a righteous, heroic dude justify letting his beloved brothers believe he’s dead for eighteen years? There was enough backstory to choke a whale, a cast of thousands, all the brothers had to be involved, all their intense buried feelings about Kev reckoned with, and their search dovetailed with Kev’s own struggle to vanquish the demons trying to destroy his life. And it all had to come together in a crashing, thundering conclusion. And don’t forget the romance, too, thank you very much! He has to negotiate finding the love of his life along with all that other stuff. Whoa. I was scared to death of it, and who could blame me? (don’t answer that question, please, it is purely rhetorical)
It took three interim books after EDGE OF MIDNIGHT, Sean’s story, to work up the courage to develop a jumping off point, which is all I ever have when I start. Not a plot line, but just a situation with oomph. A place to leap from. Like the top of a waterfall, for instance. What I find when I come barelling down is always a surprise—and my fear of finding no water in the pool below never goes away.
For readers who don't already know about Kevin McCloud tell us about your hero, Kev Larsen (aka Kevin McCloud)? What do you think will make readers, much like his heroine Edie, fall in love with him? And can you tell us a little bit about their story in Fade to Midnight?
Kev was a big voyage of discovery for me. With all the other McCloud brothers, from BEHIND CLOSED DOORS onward, I’d already discovered all kinds of background information about their characters, history and choices, which is a tremendous springboard for the story—since for me, the characters ARE the story. All I had to go on with Kevin were a few of Sean’s sentimental memories, a couple dream sequences and a paranormal vision or two. That was it. And to make matters worse, Kev was at zero, too, as far as his past was concerned. His injuries at the hands of Dr. Osterman had rendered him brain damaged and amnesiac. There was so much he did not know about himself, and the only way I could make some sense of all that for him was to have him use his special gifts to exploit it as an opportunity for spiritual growth. Which sounds a bit odd and out of place in a sexy suspense novel, but there it is. Kev learned to be in the moment, serene and calm and centered, and essentially fearless—until he encounters Edie. Then all bets are off. But his capacity to be in the moment serves him there, too, because he is able to give himself over to love and passion more quickly and completely than any hero I’ve ever created. Certainly faster than any (ahem) “normal” guy ever would. Sorry, guys. Fantasy rules.
I had great fun with setting up the love story for Edie and Kev. It was a total, over-the-top fantasy for me, to make the damage the two of them had suffered the very reason they are destined for each other. As a hopeless romantic, I get off on the concept of true love written in the stars. Edie was marked at a tender age by her traumatic encounter with the desperately injured Kev, and becomes obsessed by his image, creating her graphic novels around the character inspired by him, practically channeling Kev’s life from afar as he lives it. Meanwhile, Kev saw the eleven year old Edie dressed all in white in a moment of extremity, and then used her dream image like a holy talisman for years, to lead him through his own darkness and into healing and wholeness once again. So the moment they finally meet again, they have no choice but to fall instantly in love. They’re programmed for it. Of course, the fabulous sex certainly doesn’t hurt. It has all the ponderous weight of destiny driving it.
Sean and Kevin McCloud are twins. Edge of Midnight dealt the "death" of Sean's twin and their special bond as brothers. You hear so much about twin "connections" and their special abilities to feel and sense the other even across vast distances. Did Kevin ever feel that "loss" during his disappearance and how is this phenomenon addressed in his story?
I didn’t stress it as much as I did in Sean’s story. As you have already seen, the first chapter of the book does establish that Kev dreams about Sean on a daily basis, but to his agonized frustration, he never knows who he is dreaming about. I emphasized this phenomenon more from Sean’s point of view in EDGE OF MIDNIGHT. I felt as if I couldn’t stress it that much for Kev because of the amnesia. He feels an ache, and a loss, but he can’t identify the shape of it until his memories come back. But I don’t want to spoil, so I’ll shut up now.
Edie, the heroine in Fade to Midnight, is an author who has physic abilities of her own. Can you explain the connection that Edie and Kev have? And how it has influenced her own writing of her characters "Fade and Mahlia"?
I addressed that partially above, when you asked about Kev. I feel like when Edie saw him in his moment of desperation when she was eleven, it forged a mysterious spiritual connection between them—and in a way, they help each other through their lives even though they don’t know each other, or even know that they are connected. Edie escaped from her pain into her drawings and her fantasies, and Fade/Kev was the most important one. In fact, it became her livelihood. I don’t think either of them would have survived without the other, even before they meet. I am a hopeless romantic. I like to raise the stakes, and I don’t think they’ve ever been this high! At least, they haven’t been in my books!
What's your favorite scene or moment from Fade to Midnight, and why? Can you describe it (or provide a short excerpt) for us without giving too much away?
Well . . . I have a very hard time choosing a favorite moment, but I do really love it when Kev and Edie finally do meet and hook up. There’s so much back story and set up, they have to wait much longer than in my usual novels, and the waiting is tough! But I’ll include a juicy little tantalizing bit of that love scene . . .
Don’t go. The plea hung in the air between them.
Edie waited for Kev’s response, her fingers digging into the thick muscles of his shoulder. The seconds ticked on, and on.
He didn’t answer. Tears prickled her eyes. This was torture.
A muscle twitched in Kev’s jaw. “You don’t understand,” he said. “I don’t know how to handle feelings this strong. Before the waterfall accident, I was numb, more or less. Self control wasn’t an issue for me. But now, I feel . . . inside out. Like I’m going to break.”
“Tell me about it,” she said fervently.
“You don’t get it.” He gripped her hand in his own, engulfing it. “I don’t trust myself. I don’t want to hurt you. I have to leave. Now.”
“Leaving would hurt me,” she said simply.
He muttered something, in a harsh, gutteral language. It sounded profane to her attenuated senses. “You’re not listening,” he growled.
“You are so wrong. You will never find a better listener than me. And if you’re trying to intimidate me, don’t bother. It won’t work.”
His eyes narrowed, to bright green slits. “It won’t?”
“No. It won’t. I’m fearless today. I could eat you for breakfast.” She plucked his hand off hers, and pulled it up to her mouth, pressing her lips against it. “You think you feel exposed?” She whipped off her long green sweater, and flung it down next to his on the floor. “We’re even.”
Kev sucked in a harsh breath. “Oh, fuck.” His voice sounded strangled. “Edie. Goddamnit. This is not helping.”
She reached back, struggling with the fastenings of her shabby white bra. Wishing she had a seductive scrap of silk and lace on. At least the boobs themselves were acceptable, as boobs went. “Who said anything about helping?” She flung the bra onto the sweater, chest out, shoulders back. Displaying herself. Ta da. Take that, buddy. Tit power.
He stared at her bare chest, as if hypnotized. “I can’t do this to you.” His voice sounded strangled. “I’m not in control. You understand? I can’t . . . I don’t know what I’d do to you.”
“No? Well, gee. I could give you some pointers.” She felt silly, being naked to the waist and still wearing glasses, so she pulled them off and tossed them onto the table. The room shifted into soft focus. Kev glowed in the foreground, like luminous marble. His dirt blond hair had wiry glints of gold and bronze. Silver and gilt beard stubble glinted on the unscarred side of his jaw. She liked the metallic accents. They gave him a supernatural glow, like some mythical beast in an ancient tale. He glittered and shone. Colors of the sun, the moon, the stars.
She seized his shoulders, her ink blackened nails digging into hot, smooth skin, thick, ropy muscle, the rasp of bumpy scar tissues. She let her breast sway, inches from his face, in blatant invitation.
He seized her waist. “So we’re clear?” His voice was clipped and harsh. “We just met, a little over an hour ago. There are two outcomes in this scenario. I put on my shirt and leave right now, or I throw you down on the nearest horizontal surface, and fuck you. Hard. And repeatedly. You understand?”
She stroked the muscles of his back, shivering. “Jeez,” she murmured. “You don’t have to sound so unhappy about it.”
Can you tell us about some of your upcoming releases, or the new projects you are working on?
Wow, you put it in plural, as if I had a whole different bunch of books busily being written at one time. Hah! Not! I am slower than molasses in January, and swamped by my family life, so it’s just one single book that I’m well into, but far from finishing—and I can’t even say much about that one, because I’m superstitious. If I had finished the manuscript, I could tell you more, but I’m many a long mile from that happy bourne. But I will say that the hero of my current WIP is a very important character that you will all meet in FADE TO MIDNIGHT, and the book will certainly feature the McClouds and their friends! And the villain is shaping up to be suitably horrendous . . .
If you could ask readers a question what would it be?
Hmmm . . . ask the readers a question? That is a perilous enterprise. All those people out there, with all those powerful opinions, all reading my stuff and judging me for it! Yikes! The terror. I spend most of my time trying very hard not to think about what the readers will think, because experience has taught me that it distracts me from what I myself am thinking, and that, right there, is the bad moment when the writing stops and the nail chewing and the teeth gnashing begins. Rather, I’d just prefer to thank them for having made my livelihood possible, and tell them all that it gives me immense pleasure to know that my books are enjoyed--at least by some!
Finally, just for fun…if you could write the “fortune” in a fortune cookie what would it be?
Well, there’s a lot of directions I could go with this—comical, facetious, solemn, woo woo . . . so I’ll go for the feel good/spiritual vibe, and say, with absolute honesty, with all my heart and with warmest best wishes to everyone . . . . may you learn to find joy in little things.
Like a good book, for instance.
All the best,
Davy…Connor…Sean… Three brothers who have conquered their demons, but they’ve never forgotten their long lost brother, Kev, whom they believed to be dead. When the McCloud brothers discover Kev is alive, they won’t rest until they find him...
Beaten and tortured almost to death, Kev Larsen was found eighteen years earlier in a warehouse alley. He survived his brutal ordeal, but his memories before that night were completely erased. When he nearly dies from trying to save someone from drowning, the brain surgery he has to save his life triggers fragmented, terrifying memories. With only these memories and the name of his torturer to guide him, Kev is determined to unlock the secrets to his past.
Edie Parrish has always been good at not letting anyone get too close to her. If someone were to learn of her unusual gift, her life would be immediately jeopardized. But when Kev Larsen discovers who she really is, Edie has only one choice: to trust him. And soon, Edie can’t resist her consuming desire for him—even though she knows she’ll have to pay a price for it.
Now Kev and Edie must race against time and place their faith in each other to stop a deadly legacy...
Congratulations Shannon on your first hardcover release, and many thanks for taking the time out of your busy schedule to share your thoughts on FADE TO MIDNIGHT with us. If you'd like to learn more about Shannon McKenna and the books she writes you can find her on her website www.shannonmckenna.com.
Since Shannon is lucky enough to live in Italy...where she is surrounded by rustic loveliness, but far from a post office where mailing a book would consume an entire day and therefore unable to giveaway her book herself I'm going to offer our very first reader rewards giveaway! To thank all of you for your support in reading this blog I am offering to giveaway one copy (unsigned) of FADE TO MIDNIGHT to one lucky GFC follower. Here's how you can enter to win...
Ways to earn entries:
- Mandatory: Leave a meaningful comment (good for 1 entry)
- Mandatory: You MUST be a Google Friend Connect (GFC) follower in order to be eligible to win (unfortunately an email subscriber, or subscription in Google reader, and a follower are not the same thing so make sure you are signed up as a follower if you'd like to win this book)
- If you have a blog, or even if you don't, you can earn extra entries by telling your friends. If they successfully enter to win and mention that you sent them you can each earn extra entries. You can blog about it with a link to this post, post it on Facebook, Twitter, email...or even word of mouth (good for 5 entries for the referrer and the commenter for each friend) . Please note that to earn the points they must mention your GFC name so that I can match you.
- Purchase any item from the Seductive Musings Amazon store by using this link, or the Amazon widget contained within this post and email a copy of your purchase receipt to me no later than the deadline to enter (email available in sidebar). Sorry purchases made prior to this date do not apply, and link contained in this post must be used. No faxes or snail mail copies are allowed. No purchases are necessary to win. (good for 25 entries, or 50 entries if a purchase is made from the featured author's available titles)
How to enter:
- You can choose to enter as many different ways that you want, but please place all of your entries in ONE comment
Rules and disclaimers:
- This contest is open to US & International addresses
- The contest will end on May 30 at 11:59 pm EST and winner will be posted after they have been selected
- Winner(s) will be selected using Random.org
- The winner(s) will have THREE days from the date they are posted to provide a mailing address. If you do not contact me within three days a replacement winner will be selected. NO EXCEPTIONS
- The book(s) will be mailed directly from the publisher or author and no substitutions are allowed
- Seductive Musings is not responsible for prizes that are not honored, distributed in a timely manner, lost, stolen, or damaged during transit
- All giveaways are subject to change/cancellation without prior written notice
*I am an Amazon affiliate and receive a small (and I mean very small) referral fee for purchases made using a link on this blog. I don't use Amazon to earn money, I use it because the widgets are cool, easy to use, and serve my purposes to showcase books & such with minimal effort, but most importantly they have great prices and offer both new and used items. As a book addict I love that I can find just about anything I want in one place. If you are going to purchase a featured book anyway, and you know you won't pay more by using the links on this blog than you would by visiting Amazon on your own, I will be eternally grateful for supporting this blog by using the links, and don't forget that the referral fees from your purchases will sponsor the "Reader Rewards" giveaways :)