Release Day!! Descent, Soul Keeper III

Another new release! This looks like a great read. This weeks seems full of great new books popping up!

L. A. Starkey Author

It’s finally here and it’s almost bittersweet. To be done with a trilogy feels like a great accomplishment and yet there is the same sadness sitting around me that occurs when I’m at the end of READING a book. You get invested in the characters and much like saying goodbye (for a little while) to an old friend, with the drawing of the curtain I say goodbye to Sam, Marcus and Nick.

If you’ve read this series with me I’d love to hear from you – to share the ending experience together. It’s my first work and will always be my favorite simply because of the newness of the experience of sharing my heart with more than just my family and friends. A great journey that has shifted my career path and put a hopeful dream in my heart to do much more in the way of telling stories.


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Circumstantial Evidence.

Guys! Guys, guys, guys, guys GUYS! GUESS WHAT? Lisa Clark O’Neill has just released a new book! The next installment in the Sweetwater books is available, and you want to buy it, don’t you? Buy it and review it and share this blog post all over your most favoritest social media feeds, BECAUSE YOU’RE FILLED WITH THE SAUCE THAT IS AWESOME. Look at you, you awesome-sauce-filled-thing, you.

ALSO, the author is doing a giveaway for three lucky people who like her page today! So hop on over and like it! Go! Shoo! Skeedaddle!

Clicky clicky. There’s a good puppy.

Highlighters and Vampires and Werewolves, Oh My!

This series of books by author A.T. Russell is a delightful and unusual twist on what is expected from a “standard vampire novel.” The Generations Series is urban fantasy, and filled to overflowing with drama, love, and knock-down-drag-out battle scenes. The third book, Blood Wives, was just released, and while it can stand alone, you really ought to read the first two novels in the series first. Check this out:


“Venice Prince is a world renowned Blood Hunter, as tough as any, inimitable by any standard… until unrequited love leaves him broken and defenseless. Picking up the pieces and caging his emotions seem impossible, and carrying out the greatest contract of his life depends entirely upon his ability to recover. But Venice can’t do it alone. Unfortunately, in more ways than one, Lollo Atinude witnessed the destruction of Venice’s heart and soul, and the absolute rejection of his honor. Lollo wouldn’t have had it any other way. Venice was made for her and he belonged to only her, so his misery is her gain. Because sex-slave traders are pursuing her, Venice also represents safety for Lollo. Vampires want to use her body with violent abandon and drink her blood, often. Remaining near Venice keeps them at bay. Though he is her blood enemy, at least with him, she would be a mate… and not a Blood Wife.”

Also, check out the first two books in this series, Sacred Puppies and Alpha and the King:

And if you do, come back and let me know what you think of the books!



I dreamed about you last night.

It seems so long since you’ve been gone, and I feel like such a different person without you here.

There is a strange sense of numbness when a loved one dies, and it’s a blessing really, I’ve always thought. It’s that numbness that leaves us able to plan a funeral, and sit through a funeral, and take care of necessary paperwork and other awful things that signal the end of a life. It’s that numbness that enables us to keep getting out of bed, day after day, taking kids to school and making dinner and washing dishes and setting up appointments.

It’s that numbness that keeps our bodies going while our souls are weeping.

But I’ve noticed that since you’ve been gone, that initial numbness still hasn’t gone away, and I find myself lacking the ability to care about so many things that used to seem important.

I think to myself, “I should care about this,” but inside, I feel absolutely nothing.

Sometimes I attempt to trick myself into it with a “fake until you make it” mentality, but so far that doesn’t seem to be working so well.

And it seems as time goes on that walking away from the things I no longer care about becomes easier and easier.

It isn’t that I don’t care about anything, not at all; it’s simply that my focus seems to have narrowed considerably, and whatever doesn’t fall within that narrow scope feels now like a waste of time and effort. And if it’s such a waste, why bother in the first place?

What does matter? Family, home, writing. A few friends that are truly worth the effort of friendship.

I deliberately seek out what brings joy, or ways to bring laughter to others.

Beyond that, the rest of the world could fall away and I would not care at all.

So then, is this evidence that depression is again rearing its miserable and familiar head? I don’t think so, not really. I don’t feel depressed; I’m not sad or angry, not constantly fatigued or in tears.

Or is it simply that the raw horror of losing you has stripped away pretense, and left me with a clearer picture of what is worthy of my love and attention?

I don’t know.

I don’t know, and I feel like something precious and valuable has been broken inside me for a year and a half, and I don’t know if there is a way to fix it or even if I should try.

I used to care about and worry about so many things I often felt each new day was a burden of overwhelming pressure, and I would undeniably fail in the mad attempt o get it all taken care of, so that I felt constantly caught up in a whirlwind of frantic need.

But now even time feels slower, and if I can’t get it done, will it really matter? I take on less, expect less of myself, and worry less about achieving the approval of anyone else.

And I don’t know that it’s really wrong, to feel this way. What concerns me is the worry that this numbness may one day overtake everything, and if it does, what then?

Embracing detachment is easier, for certain. I hold on to what matters most with fierce determination, and I will not let it drift away.

At the same time, I feel as if some part of me that used to be important has drifted away while I wasn’t looking, and I don’t know how to get it back.

I dreamed about you last night. You were still sick, but whole enough to hug without worrying your thin skin might tear, and I couldn’t feel your ribs through your shirt.

But I heard your laughter, clear as a tinkling bell, and I could smell your minty gum and your perfume and underneath it the smoke of your cigarettes.

It’s been a year and a half since you’ve been gone, and it still feels like I’m waiting for the punch line to a very bad joke.