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A modern-day marriage of convenience takes a heated turn when a Dom discovers his supposedly vanilla wife isn't vanilla at all.
May 31st 2016

You Gave Me A Rating Of One Star? WTF?!!!!

July 8, 2016

IMG_1650_2

 

Never mind that I worked hard.

I tried my best.

I sweated.

Toiled.

Cursed occasionally.

But?

I hung in there and that should have counted, right?

RIGHT?

*Insert me putting my hands in the air in defeat here* Because all that stuff I previously mentioned isn’t right. At least not according to Honey. You see, he didn’t care whether I stood out in a hundred and fifty degree heat holding his stupid wood. *Wags a finger at you* Not the good wood either. I know what you’re thinking. But alas, this was actual wood that he measured and cut on the back deck with his huge table saw for the valance box I designed for our bedroom.

My job was simple. Hold the panel stable and when I finished doing that, and after I was salt and peppered with sawdust, he laughed his ass off. Then my job was to keep the valance box steady while he screwed it up over our bedroom slider. *Looks right at you* He took his time, guys. Which, you know, wouldn’t have been so bad if I was six feet tall. Hell, if I was five and a half feet tall I wouldn’t have had to stand on my tip-toes. But there I was. Teetering. And what did he do when I complained? He took his sweet time getting to putting those screws in.

Seriously.

Here’s the conversation.

Me being not patient at all. “Could you hurry up with the screws? My arms are aching.”

Him being very patient. “I’m going as fast as I can. At least you’re not frying out in that hundred and fifty degree heat for five whole minutes.”

Side-eyes you. Yeah, maybe I shouldn’t have complained about that inconvenience so loudly. It wasn’t exactly a hundred and fifty degrees and my five minutes was nothing to his most of the day. But still, I felt I needed to warn him.

“I’m going to drop it.”

“No, you’re not.”

“I am.”

“No.”

Did I mention the guy can aggravate the frigging crap out of me in a millisecond when he wants to? Today he definitely wanted to. So I decide to change the course of the argument. Clearly, I wasn’t going to win this one.

It was time to put him on the defensive. “What did you do to my navy blue towels?”

Finally, he used his screw gun and zipped in a screw. Bingo. He didn’t want to talk about the wrecked terry…but I did.

“You know, a strange thing happened. After my shower yesterday when I got out and wrapped one of those blue towels around me, I nearly cut myself.”

He screwed in the second screw so that the one side was secured and then came and took the valance box weight from me. *Hikes a brow at you* Hm. Oddly enough, he still hadn’t answered my question.

I didn’t move. “Aren’t you going to tell me what you did to them?”

He looked down and it was almost comical. I was standing right at his underarm while he was looking guilty as sin. “I don’t have any idea.” No wonder he was looking guilty. He was lying through his teeth, so I decided to help him out.

“No idea, huh? Let me put it to you this way. When I exfoliate I like to do that under the shower spray. Not when I get out of the shower and I’m drying myself off with one of my good towels. What did you get all over them? Concrete?”

*Points right at you* I’m not exaggerating here when I say my soft beach size towels had hardened  balls and smears of stone-type crap all over them.

The bugger grinned and I really got mad because the action made me not want to be mad at him at all. But then he said, “Not concrete. Drywall compound.”

*Tilts head at you* Like there’s a difference?

“Do you know how much those towels cost?”

“No, Riley, I do not.” He turned his attention to getting the last two screws fastened and I heard him mumble, “But you’re probably going to tell me.”

Oh hell, yeah I was. “Twenty-eight dollars each.” I pulled that sum right out of thin air purposely making it an odd amount, in the hopes that hitting him in the wallet would cause him to think twice about grabbing any kind of a towel out of the folded laundry and taking it to work with him to be ruined anytime the mood struck him.

He grunted, so I had to add.

“And that was when they were on sale. They aren’t any more so you’ll be paying full price for them when you replace them. Hey.” I stepped back and took a gander. “The valance box looks great! 5 stars.”

“Thanks. And you get a one.”

I shot a look at him. “Star?”

He nodded. “You started at five today but I subtracted one every time you complained. Therefore it’s one star for you today, babe.”

I was just about to open my mouth and tell him what I thought about that, but he annoyingly held up his drill in front of his mouth as if the drill bit was his index finger in the age old signal for me to be quiet.

I blinked and then scowled, when he said, “You have one star left. I wouldn’t want you to lose it.”

*Turns to look at you* Can you believe this guy?

*Shakes head*

Tomorrow we start building the closet. Can’t. Wait.

I will leave you with this. Yesterday Honey and I had a discussion about a towel hook for our master bath. I know, it’s just a hook, but it’s really not. It will have a prominent placement in the space and I was trying to be nice when I included Honey in the choice. Normally I just purchase the items and then say, “Hang this there, please.”

Well? I should have known better. He looked at all my choices (there were some really great ones. A huge cast iron whale tail? Come on, how cute is that?) and he turned his nose up at all of them. Then he points to one on the screen and asks, “How about that one?”

The one in question was a frigging plain old hook. You could even see where the screws were that held it together and where they would go on the wall once it was up. If that wasn’t bad enough it was two dollars and the caption actually read “Hook for garage storage.”

When I innocently pointed out that all his taste was in his mouth and he made some really, really, rude suggestion about what I could do with my mouth, LMAO over that one, I told him to quit with the dirty talking and to be serious. We needed to find something that was unique and functional. To which he said, “I’m not the designer. Knock yourself out. Buy whatever you want, and I’ll hang it.”

So what did I do? Why I simply decided to take him at his word. I can’t wait until he gets a load of this.

Resin-Middle-Finger-Wall-Hook-d2cce210-3913-4548-8f40-1874876360e9_600

Bahahahaha! I bought it and this is going to be our new towel/robe hook in our nicely remodeled bathroom. Do you like it?

I am so bad! But hey, I think this one will make a statement and look good. And if it’s nice quality this hook may find its way into one of my giveaways!!! I’ll be posting about the next one soon. 🙂

As always, thanks for stopping by!

Riley


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Oh, Goodie! A Honey and Riley Contractor Session!

June 4, 2016
Scan Honey-001

When I get annoyed at Honey I look at this image of him. *Pulls down readers and eyes you* I was looking at it a lot today guys!!!

This shot of Honey is on my desk. It’s one of my favorites because my daughter took it. Honey was crouched down in our old backyard years ago watching while I played Marco Polo with our son in the pool. When I asked my daughter why she took the camera out of the lanai (I didn’t like the kids to play with it by the water. In those days, we didn’t have *gasp* cellphones to snap candid shots of people) she said, “I wanted to take Daddy’s picture. He looked happy.” Such a simple thing, but something I’ve cherished. Even when he drives me freaking nuts…

Let me explain.

This morning started off with another Honey and Riley contractor session. *leans in to whisper* We used to play this game all the time when we were first married. He was the contractor to me playing the lonely housewife. *Le sigh* NOW it’s he’s the crabby contractor and I’m the b*tchy homeowner who’s busting his you-know-whats instead of stroking them.

*Clears throat* Where was I going with this? Oh yeah, into the master bathroom.

That’s where we were this morning arguing over the impossible tile I bought. I heard the words:

“I swear to the almighty G man upstairs, that no one. I repeat. Absolutely, positively, no one would put these two tiles together.”

I flicked a piece of lint off my shoulder and readjusted my bangs that had gotten ruffled off my forehead from his bark, that was sometimes worse than his bite and shrugged. “What do I care about other people’s choices? It’s our house. Our bathroom, and if no one else has this combination and style I take that as a good thing.”

Yep, his eyelid was ticking. “I’ve been doing this for how many years?”

“Thirty.” It was more like thirty-five, but why quibble?

“Thirty-five.” See, I knew he’d correct me. “And in all that time I have never installed tile like this on anyone’s floor.”

“Great. At least we know it’s unique.”

His eyes narrowed and then he went into how hard it was going to be. I think he said something about having to do it blindly because the glass tiles go in backside down maybe? I figured I didn’t have to listen. That’s what I was thinking because I didn’t have to install them, right?

I reached up and patted him on the shoulder. “You’re going to do great. I just know it.”

“Riley.”

“Really.” I pat harder. “I have a good feeling about this. Everything has to work out because it was just the right amount of tile I found, remember?”

*Side-eyes you* Did I mention I found this tile at a restore place? No? Turns out I bought a big box of all they had there because to me it looked like it was enough, and after Honey freaked out on me for A. Buying glass tiles, B. For buying harlequin ones (that’s the diamond shape ones) C. For buying from a habitat for humanity place when we’re doing such a big job D. For not measuring a damn thing, and just winging it. *Takes a breath* I have up to J in the alphabet but no worries. I’m not going to bore you. Suffice it to say that Honey was hoping I’d pick something off the shelf at a flooring store and we’d call it a day.

*Stare right at you* That never happens with me. We’ve been married for 30 years. You’d think he’d know this about me by now. Sheesh!

Now, fast forward through some very tedious discussion and what happens two hours later when I try to get a look at the tile he’d started to put down? He tells me I can’t come into the bathroom because I am the luckiest son of a gun alive. Why? I’ll let him tell you. 😉

“Don’t come in, Riley. I want you to be surprised when I have it all done. You are going to blow a gasket when you see this. This tile and the color? Wow, it really is perfect now that the paper is off the front of it and I can see it. It works so great for that crazy ass tile you had me put on the walls. I mean, it’s as if the two were meant to go together. Hey, Riley!”

Imagine me doing a happy dance in the bedroom because you gotta know I had no idea that I was looking at the wrong part of the tile all this time. Who knew the actual color of the tile and its surface was hidden under brown paper. “Yeah?” I shouted back.

“I would go so far as to say, that when I die from all the stress you put me under and your new boyfriend moves into the house, he won’t be worthy of standing on this s*it. No way.”

LMAO!

And there you have it folks. My life. Honey calls me crazy and then he winds up having to apologize because he finds out I’m not crazy at all. My parents always called me a maverick because I’d go where no one has gone before. I’m not sure that’s true in this case because if no one has ever put these two tiles together they’d just be missing out on a whole lot of interesting designing.

For me? I’m only glad that I bought the darn stuff. Now that I see the real side of the tile it’s a hundred times better than what I thought it was going to be like. *cups a hand over mouth and directs my voice your way* Don’t tell Honey, though. He thinks I’m a visionary genius who can see thru opaque brown paper. 😀

How’s everyone’s weekend going? Good so far?


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Woo-Hoo! STARE HIM DOWN IS ON AMAZON’S TOP 100 LIST FOR ROMANTIC EROTICA!!!! And We have a winner!

June 3, 2016

AmazonBestSeller

 

Congrats to Amber M. !!! I have emailed our winner and she’s gotten back to me! Yay!

I’d like to thank all you guys for playing along and I’m already working ideas for a build-a-story and a giveaway at the same time so keep a lookout!

Are any of you guys on Facebook? I’m going to do a flash giveaway within the next week of a signed print copy of Stare Him Down and some *leans in to whisper* Balls of Steel! Follow me on Facebook so you can play. 🙂

Have a great weekend! Mine has already started off with a bang. I love completing a giveaway. What I don’t love is having to do the morning meeting with Honey about the remodeling details. Check this out. You have to envision Honey and me in the master bathroom. He’s standing in the roughed-in shower stall and I’m just inside the door standing still in the only spot he told me I could stand on account of the tile on the floor. He’s got his readers on so I know this means business.

He doesn’t look at me as he draws a straight line down the wall on one side of the shower stall. “This is where the wall tile will end.” Then he taps a different spot and says, “This is where the glass will finish to.” And then he points to another spot and adds, “The ledge will finish here.”

There’s me thinking, “Sure, okay.” And then I see this spot on the floor that’s missing tile (*think* squirrel moment here) and I ask, “Why is there a square missing in the floor?”

Okay, so I KNOW the question had nothing to do with what he wanted to discuss, but still…

Honey drops his chin to his chest and closes his eyes. I’m sure he’s counting to three before he looks at me. “That’s where the drain goes, but we’re discussing the wall tile. Now, the Schluter strip will go on the cut edge of the tile on the other side of the glass.”

*Looks right at you* The what strip? Maybe I needed more coffee. I did get the whole gist of what he was saying though so I nodded. “All right. The most important thing about the tile location as opposed to the glass, is I don’t want a shelf inside the shower up against the glass because we know you’d be putting your shaver or soap there and I don’t want to be looking at that, you know?”

That comment made him stand straight up. “No, I don’t know. Why don’t you tell me about it?”

So I did.

*Side-eyes you* Annnnd, it didn’t go over well. I do believe that Honey actually accused me of being nitpicky. Which I emphatically denied. I told him instead, what I was being, was smart. After all, if the shower tile decision didn’t work out once I made the choices I could always fall-back on blaming him because I made the decisions based on not wanting to see his shaving paraphernalia.

LMAO! The look on his face? Priceless. In the end? I have no idea what we decided to do. I was too afraid to ask. >.<

Honey told me it will be a surprise. O.o I can’t wait!

Thanks for stopping by!

Riley

 


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STARE HIM DOWN HAS BEEN RELEASED! PLUS LAST ITEM FOR OUR GIVEAWAY!

May 31, 2016

And this is what was in the mystery box!

Balls Of Steel!

balls of steel

James likes to drink his scotch in the book room. And Michaela has balls of steel when she purposely interrupts him. 🙂 Besides. This company donates money to save actual balls – so the way I figure it? I’m doing a good deed by including this last item in the giveaway before the drawing. 🙂

Good luck!!!

Oh, and if you want to read about the latest Honey & Riley story, click here. I posted it on my Facebook page.

As always, thanks for stopping by!!!

Riley


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A NEVER DO THIS STORY! AND ADDING TO OUR GIVEAWAY!

May 26, 2016

 

domestic dispute

Yesterday morning started off harmless enough. I had coffee with Honey and we discussed what we both had planned for the day. But then somehow his plans of going to pick up the furniture I bought at the auction turned into me going with him and then…? Disaster!

*Holds up right hand and solemnly swears*

I so did not know that those cabinets, chests, and wardrobes I purchased were all oversized! But you can bet your sweet *ss the second the three men wheeled the first one onto the loading dock I knew. Not because I got a better look at the pieces in question, but because I got a load of the smoldering fury in Honey’s eyes.

*Looks right at you* It was bad, guys. Very, very, bad.

I could bore you with all the traveling home details surrounding the epic domestic dispute we had, but I’d rather not think about it ever again. Honey was like a broken record with his, “Are you crazy? Where is all this going to go?”

*Leans in to whisper* Just in case you’re wondering, I planned to put all the pieces in my closet. *Scowls as I straighten* Aw, don’t look at me like that. I have faith it will all fit in there. Man, you guys are as pessimistic as Honey. But then that’s not the point of this post today, so I’m going to leave this right here and get to what is.

*Scowls at you as I straighten*

Aw, don’t look at me like that. I have faith it will all fit in there. Man, you guys are as pessimistic as Honey. But then that’s not the point of this post today, so I’m going to leave this right here and get to what is.

DON’T CUT YOUR NOSE OFF TO SPITE YOUR FACE!

That is the theme of today’s post and exactly what I did yesterday. After arguing about the furniture and what I wanted to do with it, Honey said, “I haven’t even painted the room yet. Where do you expect me to put all this until I do?”

I did have some interesting ideas about where he could stick it but don’t ask. I’m sure I’ve mentioned before how I come up with these plans that he calls “crazy”, and then has to apologize to me in the end because they usually turn out be wonderful…well, this is going to be one of those times, but he really wasn’t seeing it. So what did I do? I challenged him. I said I’d paint the closet myself and the furniture that was going into it (because that was the plan for the furniture).

Normally, when we reached an impasse like this he’d sigh and say he’d take care of it, but he wasn’t going to be happy about it. Yesterday? Nothing. Nada. He may have remained silent all right – too bad I saw the “You paint anything? Ha! Oh sure you will.” look written in his still-smoldering eyes which lit a fire under my butt to paint that room and start on the furniture before he got home from work.

*Pulls up a chair and turns it so I have to straddle it backward before I give you the skinny about what kind of mayhem ensued*

If this was a Hollywood movie script I’d be able to say the painting went off without a hitch.

*Sigh*

It didn’t. I got paint on the floor, the walls that weren’t supposed to have this color on them, and paint all over me, and Honey’s favorite brush. Heck, the outside of the paint can had more paint on it than the can had in it by the time I was done.

*Shakes head*

The point here is that I had to finish painting the closet fast, so that I could concentrate on scrubbing the floor, the walls that weren’t supposed to be that color, the can, Honey’s brush, and then myself before he came home. I wanted everything to be perfect and come off appearing to have happened effortlessly.

*Looks right at you*

It was like cleaning up after a crime scene. I could not believe it. Seriously. Two hours to paint, and six to clean up? I’m pretty sure that is not how this is supposed to work.

But there I am when he got home yesterday. I was all clean and shiny with a newly painted closet. Everything was in perfect order. Really. I may have been exhausted and silently swearing to every God that would listen about how I would never – ever challenge Honey over painting, or furniture – again when I see him eyeing his favorite paint brush. The one I’d used and had set across the top of the super clean can of paint I’d meticulously scrubbed clean of all pig-pen evidence.

I was getting a bad feeling when I asked, “What? Why are you smiling?” I feared I’d missed something.

Nothing but his eyes moved when he looked at me. “You made a mess, didn’t you?”

*Side-eyes you* How the hell did he find out? I hope none of you told him. 😉

I narrowed a look at him. “Do you see a mess anywhere? I defy you to find one speck of paint – one drip or drop on the tile. Go look.”

“Don’t need to do that. My brush told me all I needed to know about what went on in this closet today.”

“Oh really?” I figured he was screwing with me so I waved him off. “Is the bristly one an oracle or something?”

“No, but it is the cleanest it’s ever been in the last two years.”

*Stares right at you* Okay, who keeps a brush for two years? And…? &*&%$!! I’d over done it. I overplayed the cleanup hand.

Fantastic.

Moral of the story? If you want to have a “So There!” moment with your significant other over painting a room in the house just so you can rub the paint in his face? Hire a professional to do it and pay them cash so there’s no paper trail, that’s all I’m saying. 😉

Meh, in the end, I had Honey in stitches when I told him about how my painting extravaganza went. When I got to the part where I explained how I could barely hoist the roller up because it was too heavy from all the paint I’d loaded on it, he was chuckling. But then when I got to the part where I’d put that weighty beast on an extension he burst out laughing. I do have to pause here to say, when Honey does this it looks easy so I thought why not, right?

Wrong.

The thing was, the roller end was terribly heavy that when it hit the top of the wall by the ceiling – the idea was for me to gently guide it down, but instead it kind of slid and then before I knew what happened there was a huge paint smear, NOT a roll – down the length of the wall. In fact, the roller hit the floor so hard paint splattered on the tile, me, and the ceiling. That’s what took me so long to clean up.

*Insert a Homer Simpson shudder of remembrance here*

The area where that happened looked like I’d used the paint can as a pinata and blugeoned it with a sharp knife. >.<

What am I doing today? Not painting, I can tell you that! 😀

*Clears throat*

Now, onto better things…

sheep counting

This is the next item to go into the giveaway. We’re less than a week away for my release and drawing! Yay!

Now I know a stuffed little lamb/sheep is an odd thing to add, but there’s a reason I was thinking about this adorable little guy. It’s the same reason I was thinking about the toe ring. It’s pertinent to the story, but before I get to that, here’s a reminder of the other items in the giveaway:

toe ring

Toe ringphoto 2 (61)

Mystery box (you find out what’s inside on drawing day)

002

003

Silver and turquoise cuff bracelet

preview

And a mug with a 25.00 Amazon Gift Card inside

 

Below is a scene in the story that happens after Michaela and James’ story actually starts. The previous scenes I posted dealt with their history together – so this one is in the thick of things in their adult relationship together. Poor James…

TOP

(Excerpt)

 

Michaela closed her bedroom door and fell back against it. Her heart pounded and her adrenaline was high. His desire had been a tangible thing, filling the room and surrounding her at certain points, but he still held back. Why?

She closed her eyes and softly banged her head against the door. If she didn’t get the romantic ball rolling with him soon, her every chance with him could disappear. She hated having to throw Logan in the ring every time to get a reaction from James, but damn, how else could she…?

Suddenly another idea came to her.

She opened her eyes and looked down at the package. Did she dare?

The sounds of James moving around in the room next door cemented her decision. Absolutely. She’d do it.

In fact, by the time she’d washed up, unpacked the box of toys, and had given them a thorough going over, she’d convinced herself that James had really left her with no choice in the matter.

 

 

James got into bed and was determined to push thoughts of his in-name-only wife out of his mind. He was ready to count imaginary sheep, pennies, bouncing balls, real balls—fuck—a picture of himself stationed quite happily between Michaela’s legs as he slammed into her over and over materialized—no.

“Think sheep. Count sheep. Sheep, sheep, sheep,” he whispered. Hoping to use this power of suggestion technique to his advantage. And it was working. He was slowly drifting off to sleep watching the…mechanical sheep? He tried to sink deeper into oblivion by overlooking the gears and metal parts that made the robotic animals leap effortlessly across the starlit landscape in his mind until…

He opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling. Why was he dreaming about mechanical—?

“Oooh…”

That soft moan woke him right up, and when he snapped into a sitting position he knew why he’d been dreaming about machines. Mickey had opened her package and if he didn’t miss his guess, that was a Hitachi humming away.

“Unfucking believable.” He fell back in a sprawl and blinked through the darkness. One upside? She wouldn’t last long. That monster had some serious power.

“Ummm…”

Her deep and elongated purr got him instantly hard, but he ignored the inconvenience and enjoyed the ensuing silence for a second or two before he shifted onto his side and punched his pillow a few times. Finally satisfied, he muttered under his breath, “Called it.” That whole pleasuring session had barely lasted a minute, thank Christ. For once he was praising a woman who liked to rush things.

Bzzzzzzzz…

He was in hell. He had to be. The second time took longer than the first, but her moans were shorter and more breathy.

Not good.

He rolled over onto his back when everything went silent again. Seriously ready to put the last hour behind him when…?

Bzzzzzzz…

He sat up and raked a hand through his hair. This was worse than hell and she needed a spanking for putting him through it. He tore off his covers and was just about to get up and march to the door when the sight of his hardened cock stopped him.

He couldn’t go chase her down sporting an erection with her name on it.

Brilliant.

He fell back onto the mattress for the second time tonight and—what was he doing? Why was he fighting this? How long had been since he’d jerked off without help from an accommodating sub? Too long, and that dry spell was going to break pronto.

He did a little brush-over meet and greet, after all, it had been a while, and then he took hold of his shaft with a firm grip.

Not too bad.

“Oh. Oh. Oh.”

Yeah, he’d take her lust-fueled whispers and use them to their best advantage as he tightly fisted himself and pumped.

The speed of the vibrator was kicked up a notch, he could tell. The increased speed elicited another “Hmmm…” out of her.

He pumped harder.

And then harder.

And when she huskily cried out this time he came so hard his cock pulsed in his palm as if it was trying to escape his grip, while white-hot shots of come jetted out of him.

He paid less attention to the end result than he did to examining the beginning, or middle as it were, and didn’t like what he saw there.

Him, having rough sex with himself.

If that didn’t beat all.

Bzzzzzzz…

“Oh, fuck no,” he whispered. He shifted his head on the pillow and stared at the door that separated their rooms. Her light was on and then…?

“Yes, yes, yes.”

He heard her soft little whispers and knew it was game-on for her again. That’s when he shrugged and readjusted. Why the hell not? At least he wouldn’t be stuck counting mechanical sheep for the rest of the night.

This time when he got himself off, all his thoughts were focused on an image of Michaela. Her, in those red stilettos, bending over for him while he slowly took down her pretty lingerie and spanked her ass for touching what was his. For abusing his property with the Hitachi.

Only he was allowed to do that.

The last image he had of her, just before he ferociously came a second time, was her on her knees, between his legs, begging him for forgiveness, and sucking him off while she worked hard to maintain eye contact with him because he didn’t make it easy for her.

“Damn…”

“James? Did you say something?”

He opened his eyes and shot a look to the door. Wholly relieved when he saw the door was still closed. She must have called to him.

“No. Good night, Mickey,” he called back.

“Mike.”

“Beauty.”

He thought he heard her mutter, “Jackass,” but he was too tired to argue the point. Maybe he’d bring it up tomorrow.

Maybe…

(End)

So you guys know the drill. If you’re a subscriber, you are already entered for a chance to win, but every time you post a comment to one of the giveaway posts your name gets added to the hat again. Good luck! I can’t wait for you to meet James and Michaela!

In other news stuff: If you’re a blogger and want to sign up for a tour you can click here. If you are on

If you’re a blogger and want to post this on release day, see details and sign up here

If you’re a blogger who would like to sign up for a review tour of Stare Him Down you can find details and sign up click here.

If you are a reader on Goodreads and want to add this one to your “to read” pile you can click here.

And, if you’d like to enter for a chance to win a first edition autographed print copy of this book, click here.

As always, thanks for stopping by!

Riley

 

 

 

 

 


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