From our family to yours, we wish you a safe and happy holiday season!
1. Welcome, Karli Rush. For those who might not be familiar with you, would you be a dear and tell the readers a little about yourself? How did you get your start in the writing business?
(Karli) First, I want to say thanks for having me here today. How I got into this business? Let me see? I was visiting a good friend of mine who happened to be a practicing shaman. She sat me down and told me that my spirit was missing something. It was missing creativity, and if I found something that I loved which was also creative then it would bring a balance to me. I am a mother and wife. I am also Native American, although you probably wouldn’t guess to look at me. I am fiercely independent and love to be in the arms of a good man. I obsessed over every Stephen King book I could get my hands on as a teen. I write to be a better writer. I want everyone to “get” my books. I guess once that happens then maybe I will be a decent writer. I love “love” and all the joys of discovery that comes with a new relationship. I also love the fear that hides in the shadows. That’s why I write paranormal romance.
2. All writers fear the dreaded “block”. Please tell us how you handle it.
(Karli) I read. When I hit that invisible wall and my fingers can’t figure out what key to hit next, I turn to the pages of authors I adore, and there are many. When I get sucked into a book it is all the therapy I need to get me back on track.
3. Contrary to what some people envision about a romance writer’s life, it’s not all glitz and glam. Well not for the majority of us. With that bubble sadly busted, when you’re not writing, how to do you spend your time?
(Karli) I go mountain bike riding. I love walking in the woods. Nature is one of my best friends. I have a unique relationship with nature that I don’t quite understand. An example would be the two wild turkeys that roost on my back porch. They are more like pets by now, but it is funny to watch people that come and visit whip out their phones and start taking pictures of them, too funny.
4. I know many writers, such as Dirk and myself, keep their pastime/career a secret. Do those close to you know you write? If so, what are their thoughts?
(Karli) My friends are supportive and several even beta read for me. It feels good to have that type of encouragement around me.
5. Will you share with us your all time favorite authors? If you’re like me, it’s a long list so give us your top ten.
(Kam) I love Gena and KC, too.
6. If you could choose one book to go to the big screen, yours or otherwise, which book would you choose and whom would you love see casted in the parts?
(Karli) Okay, I would die to have Crescent Bound made into a movie. The cast can be anyone, but Marc should really be someone that looks like Justin Hartley. I would be so happy to have unknown actors that have talent, giving them a shot at success too.
7. Would you care to tell us what you’re working on now? That is if it’s not topsecret information. If so, just whisper it in my ear. I swear it’ll go no further.
(Karli) *leans over and whispers* I am working on a top secret project with a close friend of mine. It will be a contemporary romance.
*Back to a normal voice* I have a book cover for my next project, which is book two for the “No Death for the Wicked” series. Want to see it? No one, outside of my street team, has seen this cover. So consider this an exclusive!
8. Where can we find your stories and is there a particular reading order?
(Karli) Below is my author page on Amazon. All my books are there and you can read any of them. My trilogy, the Bound series, should be read in order, but other than that, no order.
9. Would you please share how your present and future fans can contact you?
(Karli) email@example.com Sending me an email here is the best way to contact me. .
10. Before we conclude this enlightening interview, do you have anything else you’d like to share? The stage is all yours.
(Karli) Thanks, I won’t go politician on you and rant for two pages, but I would like to give a shout out to all the Indie authors out there. Being an independent author is like being in a row boat on the ocean. We all do our best to produce the best work we can. We strive for that elusive perfect book. It is a fanatical dream to be able to publish as an indie. I know that quality is so important, from editing to story content, character and world building, and the art of telling the tale. I strive to make each book I write better than the last one and I will keep getting better. I love writing and I hope my readers enjoy the stories I create. I can’t ask for more than that.
Thanks again for allowing me to do this.
I chunk my bag under the pedestal sink and take a look around. Red glazed-brick lined walls, a couple of oval beveled mirrors, and red clustered round lanterns hanging from the ceiling. I grip the sink with both hands and give myself a mental pat on the back for making it this far. My big brown dull eyes reflect back what I know already. I need to cater to my thirst, and soon. A loud commotion of noise directs my attention to the stalls on my right. Thumping, no, a pounding, frantically someone’s being attacked. Right here in the effin’ bathroom. The spiked scent of blood stonewalls me from twitching a muscle for a moment.
I look underneath the stall door and see two sets of feet, each pair pointing in the opposite direction. One set is definitely male, in hand-painted canvas sneakers and a female in wicked platform shoes. The male’s feet begin quivering as the attack subsides. Several minutes pass without any movement coming from the stall, I decide to stay out of this and begin to wash my hands. I glance in the mirror and see a lanky female step out and quietly close the metal door. Attached to the wicked platform shoes is a gorgeous female, with funky strips of bold scarlet hair which stamps an unforgettable impression. One look and I know she’s a very content grey-eyed vamp. How do I know she is a vampire? Her fangs retracting and the disregard she shows for what just happened, as she uses the back of her hand to wipe away a smear of blood. She sees me, smiles with complete sarcasm, then moves to the other sink and uses the mirror to check her hair and makeup. She doesn’t seem to care about the large stain of blood down the side of her white blouse.
“I know, I know… never wear white to breakfast, or dinner in my case.” She smirks at me then questions, “New in town? I mean you are at a train station.”
“Yeah, just arrived.”
“Are you here because you know someone?”
“Do you want to know someone?”
Her question makes me snort, “Do I need to know someone?”
She reaches past me and swipes several towels out of the dispenser. “Solace is a big city and it is always good to know someone, if you’re planning to stay here.”
“City?” I mumble a bit confused.
“Yeah, it’s a city,” she wisecracks back with an arched pierced eyebrow. Drying her hands off she extends one out. “Name’s Pandora… now you know someone.”
“Mattie.” I grasp her hand quickly, making the contact short.
As she adverts back to re-adjusting her blood stained aristocratic blouse she grumbles something or other under her breath. It’s obvious it’s not the type of blouse she bought at a thrift store. All the fancy lace and pleats would have me go stir-crazy. Especially the white, I don’t do white.
“So, if you’re not here because you know someone, then you’re here for…?”
She beat me before I can ask her more about the city. I turn and lean a hip against the sink. “A serum.”
“Daylight.” She doesn’t even peek up as she states it so matter-of-factly.
“That’s the one.” I try to sound all suave and non-nonchalant about it, even though I’m screaming inside my head going where the hell can I get my hands on it?!
“Hey, I’ll tell you what… you can head back with me to my place, if you can help me not look like a fucking serial killer. You really don’t want to hang out here in the bathroom all day do you?”
She slips the hoodie on, looks in the mirror and laughs. “Wicked. How did you know that I like my men with boners?”
In a small spectrum of the world is a city full of vampires and a very rare serum. This serum allows a vampire to walk in the light of day. The formula has been guarded for thousands of years, and yet a young female vampire from the north claims to have lived on the serum as if it is common place… This can not be… This must be dealt with. Mattie desires two things, getting Daylight back and Him.
Review by Kimmi:
After I finished Twilight, or should I say after the rebirth of vampire mania, I probably devoured through over a hundred Vampire books and series. Everything from J.R. Ward, to Katie MacAlister, Lynsay Sands and Jeaniene Frost and many many more. After a while my craving for all things with fangs faded. Don’t get me wrong, Oh I still tore through the Paranormal Romance shelf, but the angles on the Vampire stories just kind of started blurring together and for me turned a little blah.
I didn’t read the description of this book before I started it, I just jumped into it. And I freaking loved Mattie from page one of the Prologue, her character jumps off the page with her middle finger in the air, and if you don’t like it, she don’t give a damn. As for Graham, oh hell. (Kimmie: *sigh*, * fans self*). Graham is, I’m sorry I have no other descriptive words at the moment, Graham is F%¡KING HOT! Alpha male all the way, he is mysterious, dominant, he is a damn wet dream is what he is!!! lol!
Chapter 1 of this story threw me for a loop because I just didn’t see it coming. And the rest of the story? AWESOME! In “Daylight” Karli Rush breathes a breath of fresh air into the Vampire world. Her new spin is PERFECT! I love the characters she created in this story and the world she paints for the reader with her words. I really did not want this story to end! It was a fast read and exciting as hell! Thank you Karli for resuscitating my inner fang banger, and my vamp addiction, NOW GIVE ME ANOTHER, PLEASE!!!!
Karli has always blazed her own trail, whether popular or not. She has three wonderful sons and is contently married to a supportive husband. Her passion outside of writing is photography and all things natural. She is an Autism advocate and enjoys hiking, bike riding and family.
Karli was born deep in Cherokee Nation Indian Territory where she grew up loving everything paranormal and has even, first hand, witnessed a womanly spirit. The sighting, as it is referred to, occurred in Eureka Springs, Arkansas one of the top ten most haunted hotels, The Crescent Hotel. This experience captured Karli in ways that have expanded her beliefs about the possibilities of other realms.
As a teen, Karli was an avid reader. She sought out solitude for her passion in nearby Indian Graveyards. Although writing was something that has pulled at her most of her life, it wasn’t until a recent visit to a Shaman, who saw her spirit’s need for creativity that she truly began down the path.
Karli Rush’s blog – http://rushboundblog.wordpress.com/
Ladies and Gents, I hope you enjoyed our interview with Karli Rush. If you have any questions or comments for her, by all means, leave Karli a message below.
Thank you in advance for your visit!
Lizzie Brown is about to have the destination wedding her dreams. But as this former preschool teacher knows, being a demon slayer makes everything more complicated. The vengeful Earl of Hell is still on her tail. And now it seems that one of the guests at the eccentric, seaside mansion is possessed and trying to kill her. Maybe she should just elope.
The groom, studly shape-shifting griffin Dimitri Kallinikos, vows to protect her at all costs. Yet even he is acting suspiciously. And minions of the devil are popping up everywhere. Now Lizzie must protect her socialite mother, her Greek in-laws and her grandmother’s gang of biker witches – all of whom are convinced they know what’s best for her, and her big day. As the wedding draws closer, Lizzie has to learn who is behind the attacks – and fast – or risk losing everyone she loves.
Since I didn’t feel like I could discuss my thoughts on this installment without disclosing any surprises, I decided to share the guest list instead.
Here goes — biker witches, talking dog, his pet dragon (Yup, you read that right. The dog has a pet), griffins, country club members, a ghost, vengeful demon…. I think that covers it.
Doesn’t that sound intriguing?
I thought so……. GET THE BOOK!
Heart rating system – 1 (lowest) and 5 (highest)
It’s time for change! In a country with a cursed justice system, two women; the mysterious Queen Artride and her loyal bodyguard Tirsa, set out on a secretive perilous quest. They hope to find the sorceress, the only person powerful enough to be able to lift the curse, in Dochas; the strange Magical Land.
But they have to hurry as they only have three weeks to save Tirsa’s teenage brother’s life, sentenced to hanging for a petty crime.
They are quickly drawn to each other, however struggles and questions soon arise. Will the sorceress be willing to help them and for what price?
‘No,’ she answered solidly through gritted teeth, and stood.
‘No more lies, no more talking … no more!’ Moreover, she wished she had a sword or at least a knife, and while she wished it, in the corner of her eye she spotted a knife glittering in the sun, shining on the surface of the pool below the noisy waterfall. Without thinking, she picked it up in one movement and the next she stood before Artride threatening her with the knife. Visibly she was shocked, sitting and staring at Tirsa with wide-open eyes. So it is true, completely? Where did she get the knife from anyway? She must have it hidden from me all along …
‘Tirsa, for crying out loud, you are not yourself. Put away that knife … please.’ She began to fear and she showed it.
The bodyguard threw her head backwards and started laughing madly. Artride had never seen her like this before. ‘All of these things she said that mattered were desires, yes, but only some of it is true, all of what I told you! You must know that!’ she pointed out critically.
‘No,’ Tirsa answered grimly. ‘She was telling the truth if you think about it. A Woodchild doesn’t lie and after all she is a Truthteller.’ And she smiled wickedly and peered around.
‘You were actually going to stay here, weren’t you?’
‘No, Tirsa. Why can’t it be possible she is lying?’
‘Because when she focused on me … what she told about me was all true.’
Artride’s face showed signs of shock and disappointment, and that hurt Tirsa. ‘It was? You truly want to kill me?’ she saw the other woman swallow and turnher face away in shame.
‘I can do this quest alone. I don’t need you or anyone,’ she softly responded, keeping her voice plain and louder, ‘I shall succeed.’ She suddenly stepped towards the queen with the sharp blade of the knife pointed at her throat, breathing heavily, her eyes filling with tears. ‘Why?’ Her voice was breaking up halfway.
‘If you seriously believe she was telling the complete truth about you, not a mixture; you also believe there is no curse, so why would you continue this journey?’
‘I will go back alone and have my brother released! You will have no power over him or anyone anymore! You are cunning, but vicious!’
‘I never had any power, you know that,’ she stated calmly, but clearly affected by Tirsa’s words; her eyes were big and watery.
‘You have been lying! There never was a curse; it was just an excuse to make me care! I understand now. I was an easy target; perfect to come along and protect you deep into this land. You have been playing with me. Well, you got what you wanted. You stay here to settle down and do not ever come back. I will tell “your people” you are dead, like you desire; but stay out of my sight from now on.’
The shocked pale queen shook her head slowly; her face still so friendly and understanding, although stunned; Tirsa almost could not bare it.
‘I am sorry I was not honest with you about my desire for freedom to run away, but I am now,’ she tried to explain. ‘You have to believe me. There is a curse, Tirsa. Moreover, this escaping thing of mine was never a real plan; it was nothing more than a crazy idea; a desire if you like from a confused frustrated mind, no more than that. I have been desperate, so very desperate. I am telling you the absolute truth. You have to believe me, trust me, like I trusted you.’
“A good fantasy story especially in the lesbian genre and it doesn’t get much better”
“An excellent read for the price”
“The premise is thoroughly original. The two protagonist’s backstories were well fleshed out, and created sympathetic characters that the reader wished to see succeed. I enjoyed the Windchildren and Woodchildren very much, as well as the gods of the magical land. Sempervirens was a captivating villain as well, and I thought the author handled her quite well.”
Following an injury that forced him to leave his job as a police detective in Detroit, Raymond Jaye went freelance. As a newly licensed private investigator in Salt Lake City, Utah, Ray assumed he’d be tracking down frauds and con artists, not murderers. He was wrong.
Barbara Manetti admitted to her husband that she’d been having an affair, and named Ray as her lover. Three hours later, she’s found sprawled on her kitchen floor in a pool of blood from a knife wound on her neck. Murder is a job for the police, but tracking down her real lover is something a PI could do without stepping on any official toes. That is, until the investigation her to Ray’s life back in Detroit.
Ray begins to see her plan, and it raises two questions. Why would a woman he’d never known want to see him dead? And who knows Ray well enough to kill for him?
In this, the second of the Raymond Jaye stories, Ray finds himself up to his collar in suspects, while the only person that really knew what was supposed to happen lies on a cold, steel slab.
Ernie paused where the pair of short staircases met near the entryway, and called out. “Barbara? Honey, it’s me. I’m back. Can we talk?”
No answer. He put one foot on the stairs, then stopped and turned to face me.
“I know she’s home. Her car’s here. She won’t go anywhere unless she can drive. Maybe she’s in the bedroom.”
If she was in the bedroom at noon on a Saturday, she might not be alone; especially if she’d expected Ernie to be in jail for assault. “I’d better go with you.”
“Bedroom’s this way,” he said and turned toward the half flight of stairs that led up.
The stairs ran along one wall of the living room, but the high ceiling made it feel like a hotel lobby. At the top of the stairs, Ernie froze, then looked at me, then back at…
I pushed past him to see a woman in her mid-thirties, wearing a dark blue dress, lying motionless in a red pool in the center of the kitchen floor.