Author Archive for agency6

Check out #monthlylines #AnIrishCountryLoveStory

Check out an excerpt from Patrick Taylor’s upcoming novel.

Barry set his collected instruments down on the table. What was he going to do about this Stevenson woman? He had to try to set aside his irritation about how close she’d come to wrecking almost a full year’s work. He glanced at her again. This constant need for sleep, her progressively more flirtatious ways? He’d little doubt about what she had been hinting at before he went out. Barry shook his head. Maybe he should talk to Fingal about letting her go before her three-month trial period was over? But taking a nap was hardly a firing matter. And nothing untoward had actually happened. He knew Fingal trusted him completely, but the man still might be surprised by Barry accusing Nonie of being flirtatious. He tried to remember exactly what she’d said. There was nothing overt that he could remember. And being sacked by such a well-respected physician as Fingal O’Reilly would be a very large blot on her professional copybook. He shook his head and sighed. Twenty-two more days and he’d be in France with Sue.
Och blether. She was a good doctor and seemed to enjoy working here. She had extra training in women’s health. Maybe, just maybe, he should let the hare sit—and make sure he didn’t let himself get into any compromising situations with Nonie Stevenson in the future.

Check out #monthlylines #AnIrishCountryLoveStory

Sue smiled. “OK, I’m officially off duty as a travel guide. Here we are, 32 Quai du Port. La Chope D’Or.”
They stopped outside a low railing. Tables were arranged on a patio in the open air, but only two were occupied by patrons well bundled up in heavy overcoats. One couple were accompanied by a large shaggy dog that sat on one of the wicker chairs. The sign above the restaurant’s picture window, white letters on a bright blue background, read “Brasserie LA CHOPE D’OR Crêperie.”
Sue led the way inside. The place was packed and the sounds of conversation and laughter rose and fell, punctuated by the “boing” of a spring closing a door that, judging by the coming and going of waiters with loaded trays, led to the kitchen. Barry breathed in the aromas of garlic, onions, thyme, fresh fish and Turkish tobacco. He was definitely in France.
A waiter greeted Sue like a long-lost friend, showed them to a table for two in the window, pulled out a chair so Sue could be seated, and with a flourish spread a spotless white napkin on her lap. “Les menus.” He set two down. “Et quelque-chose à boire?”
“Barry?” Sue asked.
I’d love a Guinness, he thought, but said, “When in Rome. What are you having?”
Sue ordered the house white and the waiter left.
Barry turned to stare out over the harbour and south to where Notre Dame de la Garde, lit by floodlights from below, stood on its hill surveying the scene. He turned back to Sue. “It’s lovely,” he said, “and you are lovely. Very lovely, darling.”
She inclined her head and smiled. “Thank you, Barry.”
He looked into her eyes and took her hand and for the second time that day, the people all around them faded.
The waiter reappeared, coughed discretely. The ritual of opening a bottle of wine was observed to the letter with Sue duly inspecting the label, sniffing the cork, sipping a sample, and declaring herself satisfied.
Barry presumed that the rapid-fire conversation between the man and Sue was to establish that they needed more time to study the menu. He left.
“You know I’m not very good at languages, but I think I detect quite a nasal quality to the waiter’s speech?”
“Pierre’s a local,” Sue said, “The French spoken here is much harsher than that in Paris.”
“I thought there was something different. Our French teacher at school, Mister Marks, used to say, ‘Laverty, vous parlez français comme une vache espagnole.’ You speak French like a Spanish cow.”
Sue laughed and squeezed his hand and said in a low voice, “But you make love like an Italian called Casanova.
Barry glowed. He raised his glass, sipped the cool crisp wine and said, “I love you, Sue Nolan.”
She said, “And I love you, Barry.” She lifted her menu, “And I think, prosaic as it sounds, we really should think about ordering.”
Barry smiled. “Let’s,” he said.
Sue said, “I’m going to have some pâté to start with then the mussels.”
Barry said, “Bouillabaisse for me. The local fishermen invented it here.”
“No starter?” Sue said.
He shook his head.
She leant across the table and whispered, “I’m taking you sightseeing tomorrow, but with what I have in mind for later this evening I really would suggest half a dozen raw oysters.”
Barry started back in his chair. “What?”
“You heard me,” she said and her smile broadened, her right eyebrow lifted, and she half turned her head never letting her gaze leave his eyes.
And Barry Laverty feeling himself aroused, laughed and shook his head. “Shameless hussy,” he said, “but you have a point. Let’s make it a dozen.”

Patrick Taylor: Must Read Author for 2016

Hello, All!

Victoria here. I wanted to share some great news. What a wonderful honor! Patrick Taylor is named a Must Read author in 2016 and we agree!

In case you didn’t know Patrick Taylor is the New York Times bestselling author of An Irish Country Doctor, An Irish Country Village, An Irish Christmas, An Irish Country Girl,  An Irish Country Courtship and many more including his latest An Irish Doctor In Love and At Sea. More novels in the Irish Country series are on their way soon. You can pick them up almost anywhere books are sold.


To Be Human, Or Not To Be by DT Krippene


Robot in Love - Rudy Faber

Love and Artificial Intelligence

I’m working on a scene in my new book and stuck on how emotionally self-aware a robot should be. Artificial intelligence, or A.I., in science fiction go hand-in-hand, like romance titles do with ripped bodices and men with hairless chests. Which brings me to a question … can artificial intelligence ever achieve the emotional rollercoaster that defines who we are as humans?   You know, that thing called love, the craziness that alters behavior, evokes euphoria, obsession, distortion of reality, personality changes, and risk taking (loosely defined as doing really stupid shit because we can’t think straight).  Can anyone actually associate the word intelligence with love?

A.I. can be many things; a voice on a computer or command module, mechanical production, or prosthetic arm with a mind of its own, but it’s more fun to create A.I. in our own image, give them a humanistic physique so we dream about indentured servants who won’t bitch about workloads, or get a headache when daddy’s feeling frisky.

Could you love an artificial human … real love … beyond a mind-in-the-gutter play toy that knows where all the right tickle points are? For that to be possible, our robot friend will need to reciprocate with an emotional range that isn’t easily coded in algorithms, because true love … defies common sense. 

Science fiction has toyed with many variations of A.I., ranging from simple house-bot shenanigans, to when nothing-can-go-wrong, goes wrong.  Example of tamer scenarios, astronaut Cooper in the movie Interstellar adjusts the “humor” and “trust” settings on his robot, TARS. The android Data in Star Trek-Next Generation activates his emotion chip and becomes a blithering, basket case. Sinister themes of an AI global takedown exemplify the Matrix and Terminator movie series.  I give Babylon-5 high marks for a provocative plot line of self-aware robots creating artificial humans. For me, Asimov’s The Positronic Manbasis of the movie Bicentennial Man, comes closest to a fictional tale that explores robotic love.

Scientists are still trying to figure out what happens to humans when they fall in love. An article from Frontiers in Human Neuroscience, Love-related Changes in the Brain, came up with the following clinical conclusions (paraphrased).

“Results show that: the left dorsal anterior cingulate cortex (dACC) was significantly increased in the LG (in comparison to the ELG and the SG); (2) ReHo of the left dACC was positively correlated with length of time in love in the LG, and negatively correlated with the lovelorn duration since breakup in the ELG; (3) FC within the reward, motivation, and emotion regulation network (dACC, insula, caudate, amygdala, and nucleus accumbens) as well as FC in the social cognition network [temporo-parietal junction (TPJ), posterior cingulate cortex (PCC), medial prefrontal cortex (MPFC), inferior parietal, precuneus, and temporal lobe] was significantly increased in the LG (in comparison to the ELG and SG); (4) in most regions within both networks FC was positively correlated with the duration of love in the LG but negatively correlated with the lovelorn duration of time since breakup in the ELG.”

Holy Masters and Johnson, did you get all that?  Is it safe to say a profusion of living biology is at work here? Here’s the issue for me.

Self-awareness does not equate to becoming human, or even close to being human. Humans are messy creatures equipped with glitchy biological hard drives, susceptible to viruses and short-circuiting, and has not seen much improvement on design specs for thousands of years.   In the article Dawn of the Age of Singularity, Stephen Hawking warned A.I. would likely surpass humans when it becomes self-aware, because it will improve on itself.  Elon Musk of Tesla was less eloquent when he said, “With artificial intelligence, we are summoning the demon.” If Hawking is right, why would A.I. accept the erratic mechanism of love, which likely held humans back in the first place?

Let’s say we’re successful in creating a data core capable of experiencing, and expressing, biologically complicated, hormonally imbalanced, synaptic reflexes associated with being in love.  A few behavioral premises throw a warning flag with self-improving cybernetics. Oxford scholars cautioned that “when a machine is ‘wrong,’, it can be wrong in a far more dramatic way, with more unpredictable outcomes, than a human could.” Re-reading our definition above, distortion of reality and the unpredictability of altered behavior would not be a favorable trait in A.I. And while we’re discussing terrifying potential, what’s to keep love’s evil cousins from showing up, like obsession, possessive behavior, or jealousy?

It is possible that our human intelligence is maladministered by our biology. The Pandora’s Box of human physiology is easily breached by natural cellular mishap, misappropriated hormonal alchemy, or self-inflicted human transgression. Could expressions of love be improved with an entity less susceptible to biological randomness?  The better question might be, can we take the lunacy of human love, remove the negative attributes, put it in a neat little box, and still call it love?

As a biologist, I’m doubtful.  Germinal love is at the very minimum, temporary insanity. I am not convinced a self-improving A.I. program can safely handle it. As a writer, I want to believe that lovesick robot in love is possible. How cute is that? A little physical makeover could do wonders for him.

Albert Einstein might have thought love’s affect on our sanity, might be the one thing we humans will always have over A.I. when he said, “Artificial Intelligence is no match for natural stupidity.”

Sounds like the making of a good story.

If you have thoughts on the subject, feel free to comment. If you liked this post, share the love by “liking” it back.

Robot in Love, by Rudy-Jan Faber

Artist Rudy-Jan Faber is an illustrator and painter working and living in the Netherlands. You can find his art at, and follow his Facebook and Pinterest pages at

RIP Leonard Nimoy by Bill Kassel

R.I.P., Leonard Nimoy


During the three years of its run, “Stark Trek” was a not-to-misshighlight of my Friday night TV-viewing schedule.

I’m talkin’ the real “Star Trek” — no holodeck, no friendly Klingons — the classic, original “Star Trek”: Captain Kirk, tacky sets, hokey alien monsters and all.

Nimoy as SpockNow my wife and I catch old episodes Saturday nights on MeTV.

This week’s is especially poignant, since Leonard Nimoy, the immortal Mr. Spock, passed away Friday morning at age 83.

He’s the third of the Enterprise’s key officers to die. DeForrest Kelley (Ship’s Surgeon Dr. Leonard McCoy) departed in 1999, and James Doohan (Chief Engineer Montgomery “Scotty” Scott) in 2005.

It was Nimoy’s post-“Star Trek” directorial work that brought me into contact with him. As I noted in my post of August 10, 2014, he participated in a conference on moral values in popular entertainment which I’d helped to organize at Hillsdale College. I picked him up at Detroit Metro Airport and drove him the nearly 100 miles to campus.

Tooling along I-94 with Mr. Spock had a certain surreal quality about it, as you might imagine.

I’d been informed by his manager that Nimoy wasn’t fond of chit-chat. Which was okay with me — I’m not adept at small talk. So after our initial gate-side greeting (non-passengers had free access to the terminals in those days) and getting him ensconced in the college van I was driving, the two of us settled in for a very quiet ride.

He eventually got to feeling a little self-conscious, I think, and started to ask me about Hillsdale College. Apparently, he’d received no advance briefing on the place where he’d be speaking. That worked out fine — gave me something specific to talk about. And so we both were put at ease, and we shared a pleasant conversation.

I dropped him at our on-campus hotel, and then picked him up again after dinner to deliver him to the auditorium where his conference session was to be held. This time, my son, Daniel (then only about ten years old) was in the back seat holding one of the publicity stills we’d been provided in advance. Nimoy greeted him effusively and autographed the print for him. Dan still has it, and the incident remains a fond childhood memory.

There were no great insights into the character of Leonard Nimoy to be gained by that day’s experience. It was just a small moment of human sharing with a famous person who was friendly, rather shy, and (on our rural campus) a bit of a fish out of water — someone not unlike his Mr. Spock persona, it occurred to me.

I had wondered how he would feel being transported from Hollywood (“Babylon by the Sea”) to conservative Hillsdale College. I’d read “Star Trek” cast members used to joke that, with so many 1960s social-justice themes underlying the futuristic fantasy plots, their series should have been titled “Liberals In Space.”

Medved & Nimoy at HillsdaleFor all appearances, Nimoy enjoyed himself enormously that evening participating in an onstage interview with Michael Medved, then co-host of the PBS movie review series, “Sneak Previews.” It was pure pandemonium when Nimoy gave his signature, split-fingers Volcan salute and a beaming smile to accompany it.

The Hollywood gossip site, TMZ, headlined its announcement of Nimoy’s passing, “He lived Long and Prospered.” That was clever and appropriate.

Leonard Nimoy found himself — quite unexpectedly, I’m sure — in the unique position of being a pop culture icon. No doubt it was a mixed blessing. While he was fortunate to sustain an extended career in the entertainment business and gain artistic recognition in several of its specialty areas, nothing he did after Spock equaled service aboard the Enterprise.

Still, he came to appreciate the success and continuity he enjoyed in an extremely volatile business. I think a late-life reawakening of his Jewish faith was a vital component in the equanimity he seems to have achieved.

The traditional Jewish blessing upon death is…

Bah-rooch a-tah a-do-noi e-lo-hei-noo me-lech ha-o-lahm da-yan ha-e-met.

Blessed are You, Lord our God, King of the universe, the True Judge.

Rest in Peace, Leonard Nimoy.

Live long and prosper.

Your Shirt Just Ratted You Out-D.T. Krippene

Your Shirt Just Ratted You Out


From: Whitenoise -

Thinking back at all the science fiction I’ve read over the years, real-time biomedical telemetry is rarely a major theme in the story line.  Dr. Leonard McCoy of Star Trek fame pioneered scanning tools with computer assisted diagnostic tech, all so he can report:     He’s dead, Jim.

Sure, a few stories touched on “vitals” monitoring.    He’s still dead, Jim.    

Intelligent pills have already hit the test market, ready and able to snitch on you from the inside. Now, scientists have developed textiles that can monitor and transmit wearer’s biomedical info (Sparkonit, December 2014).  If you thought privacy was an issue with smart phones, wait until the healthcare industry starts insisting on textiles with biomedical remote telemetry.

Astronauts have used biomedical telemetry for decades. The famous movie scene, “The Right Stuff”, where Alan Sheppard, stuck in a capsule for hours when the coffee he drank searches for an exit, pees in his suit and lights up the monitor like a Christmas tree.

Migration of Remote Patient Monitoring to private industry, however, has been slow for a variety of reasons.

  • Cost: Anything with the word, “medical”, guarantees a trip to expensive-ville.
  • Dependant on extensive wireless communications infrastructure. “Can you feel me yet?”
  • Lack of reimbursement guidelines: “We’re sorry, our policy categorizes telemetry as “personal cell call,” and not reimbursable.”
  • Requires team of 24/7 information handlers. “This is an automated call. Your – stool output – is – below normal. Please – utilize the toilet ­– as soon as possible.”
  • No clear guidelines whether clinicians have to intervene. “Mr. Bumbler’s heart rate is up again.” “Don’t worry about it, he’s probably watching porno again.”
  • Barrier to healthcare providers who are not technologically inclined. “I’m Mrs. Don Havnoclue, I’m calling from Dr. B. Hindtime’s office. The alarm clock with your name on it is buzzing. This is your wakeup call.
  • Who remembers Dr. House and his famous “everybody lies“? “Um … Mr. Brotwurst, a recent urinalysis result says you’re … pregnant.
  • And of course, security of sensitive information. “Honey, it’s an outfit called Tunnel of Darkness; wants to know if you’re interested in buying Silkibum ointment after your colonoscopy next week.”

I jest of course. Chronic illnesses will benefit greatly by the use of biomedical telemetry for Remote Patient Monitoring. The UK launched a whole system demonstrator trial to test its benefits.  At some point in the near future, I’m betting remote monitoring will utilize interactive textiles. The shirt you wear might be able to transmit a warning that your heart is about to experience arrhythmia, or flag rising blood glucose.  Imagine your pants sending a text to complain you fart too much.

All that personal biomedical data, floating on the wireless medical telemetry service bands, ripe for the picking by anyone savvy enough to tap into it. Think along the lines of Spielberg’s movie, “Minority Report”, where remote retinal scanners at every entry point, pitches a product as you walk in a store. Welcome Mrs. Leaky, we’re having a sale on adult diapers.”  High-end dating apps make available, for an extra fee, information about that hunky prospect you’re evaluating who has chronic erectile dysfunction.  Those new tighty-whities the wife bought, rat you out if it detects excessive blood flow to certain-anatomical-regions-of-your-body while on a business trip.  Honey, I was just watching the hotel HBO channel. 

It opens a whole new thriller sub-genre.  Romance writers, take notice.

“Can I buy you a drink?”    “I don’t know. Are you the one whose jockey shorts keep texting me? 

Think I’ll stick to cotton.

What about you?  Broadcasts Threads ………. Good or Bad?

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Cover reveal!

And . . . it’s here!

Harlequin sent me the cover for the last book in my mermaid trilogy. I love it! They have done an amazing job with the covers. So for all of you waiting on Lily’s story . . . it will be released in June. This one is based on the real Choctaw legend of mermaids (Okwa Nahola – White People of the Water).

Love and the Fickle Finger of Fate


Our Lucky Numbers - @agsandrew via

It’s no secret that romance writers love imagining how fate throws two people together.  It’s a big part of the RWA canon.  Protag should meet love interest by chapter two and must have a satisfying ending.  Killing the love interest, like Downton Abby does with regularity, is frowned upon (but forgiven if you’re … Downton Abby).   It is not a new formula. Twentieth-century movies formatted the process for decades with “guy meets girl, guy loses girl, guy gets girl“.  Joke as I may about RWA’s blueprint, all I know about writing romantic entanglements came from published authors of romance novels, nurtured by the RWA.  They know a thing or two about love. I belong to the RWA. There – I just outed myself (but wisely waited until after the Super Bowl).

When I grew up, date, mate, and fate, arrived well after my teen years.   I didn’t come from an ethnic neighborhood where elderly matrons operated a match making service, so I was on my own.  It also didn’t help that genes threw in a few roadblocks by making me a bespectacled, 90 lb. dripping wet (in winter, with boots and wearing two sets of long johns), geekish boy with a goose-like neck and pimples rivaling Mount Pinatubo.  Add it to a bumbling stammer when I engaged in conversation with the opposite sex, it had me wondering if priesthood would be my fate.

I came across a summation of a book by Daniel Jones,” Love Illuminated: Exploring Life’s Most Mystifying Subject,” apparently researched with the help of 50,000 strangers (I wonder how long that took?).  He quoted a relationship columnist.

Even in our overexposed online dating world, we still count on fate when looking for a mate”.  

I’ve spent enough of my adult life working in and around big cities to witness multitudes of people swarming in close quarters like schools of mackerel, yet struggle with loneliness.  Despite the close proximity of fellow hominids, fate seemed to favor smaller places with fewer candidates. A guy growing up on a farm in Wisconsin had a better chance of finding a mate (or depending on geographic location, your first cousin).

Facebook and search engine sites advertise a plethora of match making apps to replace the old village matron, or finding love in all the right bars.  I stumbled upon (okay, guilty, I searched for it), The Top Free Dating Apps – Based on Popularity. Of course, “EHarmony” leads the pack (it’s not free) with the age-tested questionnaire profile, which is often questionable. Not that I’m claiming people outright lie, maybe the word “enhanced” fits better (See Ben Stiller’s remake of Thurber’s “Walter Mitty”). Sites then divide in accordance to interests, ancestry, religion, etc.  “2RedBean”, for Chinese singles, is in the top ten, just after “”.  If things don’t go according expectations, you can get “WotWentWrong” to describe what-went-wrong in a former relationship or recent date.  Wow.  I get these sites improve the statistics of finding companionship, but sure seems like a lot of frogs to sort through.  I’m so glad I’m off the circuit.

Believing a soul mate is destined to walk into your life, is the stuff of dreams.  Weaving dreams is what we writers do. Nothing agitates the butterfly conservatory in our belly more than a face and pair of eyes that connect by chance.

Fated love opens new windows to a character’s soul, and isn’t limited to romance Regencies with daughters (princesses) trapped in the cultural norms of curmudgeonly fathers (or Kings) selecting husbands for them, dashing true love for the stable boy or juggling court jester, who is good with his hands. Today’s Young Adult titles bleed with chance encounters, often while in a relationship with someone else and disapproving eye of peers and parents. It might be a reason why we can’t get boys to read young adult titles (I’m jesting … maybe).  I could go on with genre diversity regarding fated love, but I haven’t the word space for it.  I write science fiction, fantasy, and the occasional paranormal. I’ll stick with what I know.

For me, fantasy stories wrote the book on romantic destiny long before we called it romance.  Hearing the words “Once upon a time …” prickled the skin. I can’t think of one title I’ve read where it doesn’t possess variations of fated love.  I recently finished a lovely series by Jeff Wheeler, “Legends of Muirwood”. I got lost trying to keep track of entanglements in Robert Jordan’s “Wheel of Time” series.  G.R.R Martin’s riotous “Song of Ice and Fire”, is rife with unplanned liaisons, though he may kill them along the way (which pretty much bans the title from RWA for not having a satisfying ending).

Recent dystopian tales embellished the typical thematic moroseness with contours of fated love. Think Collin’s “Hunger Games”, Roth’s “Divergent”, or the movie “Oblivion”.  It’s a heart tugging moment when two strangers trapped in a dehumanized, cataclysmic societal decline, spot each other in the dust.  I’m still editing a dystopian tale where a genetic marker wipes out 98% of the human population. A tiny number of these survivors share a unique birth date, and the possibility of having children.  Fate has its hands full when an ocean moat separates the guys on one continent, the girls on another. Unfortunately, dystopian is yesterday’s news, so I’ll hopscotch to science fiction until dystopia is back in fashion, like my 70’s disco shirt.

As a kid, I inhaled science fiction stories by the dozens. With notable exceptions, like Bradbury’s “Bicentennial Man”, or Frank Herbert’s “Dune”, the books I read, buried fated romance in subtle micro plots.  Is it because we geeks are more enamored with the science of our fiction?  Trust me, it isn’t the headliner in discussion forums, but we all secretly look for that moment when our protag is caught in the action, and BAM, hit upside the head with an unscheduled stop in romance-atopia. When I ask sci-fi fans for their favorite story liaison, Han Solo and Princess Leia come up every time.  Audrey Niffenegger’s debut book, “The Time Traveler’s Wife”, ranks high on the list, though I found it less science, more romance for my taste.  Gets real interesting when it’s an inter-species relationship like in “Babylon 5″. Whole new portals open up with biomechanical awareness like “Wall-E’ and “Bicentennial Man”.

From: @Andreus via

There must something to our obsession with fated encounters. How can so many fictional stories arise with fate pushing two characters together?  Even stories where society has been relegated to love-on-demand rendezvous, like Michael Anderson’s “Logan’s Run”, humans are destined to find one another.   The more unlikely the circumstances, the better.  People still believe that fate will find us a soul mate. It’s why we writers weave it in our stories.

Do you believe in fate?  Love to know your thoughts.


BTW, if you want more romance in your science fiction, a recent article by Daniel Hope compiled a list of Science Fiction Novels for the Lovelorn Rocket Jockey, with titles old and new.

Wonderful review for M.V. Freeman


Incandescent Review


ALL RIGHT! let’s get this review going… let me just list a couple of things I ABSOLUTELY loved about this book…


Hot & Broody Russian Man

A vulnerable heroine who is anything but that as it turns out

Kick-Ass Female Heroine

…no seriously she was so kick-ass!!!

Amazing secondary character development that can only mean a continuation that will lead into an epic series

So let’s rewind now… This was my first read by the author that I just stumbled upon on Ominific Publishing FB page and color me curious! What attracted me and made this one stand out FOR ME? Well it was that the main character was a Russian man. As you know I have some… ok ok 100% Russian roots and I was just curious how authentic the portrayal will be. If it was going to be simple Da, da, da give me Vodka DA! After excitedly tweeting out that I started reading the book I got an immediate tweet from the author wishing me luck and thus began our 1+ hour conversation on Tweeter. I don’t know about the rest of you but when I’m reading a book I always love getting immediate (I don’ mean like ASAP but eventually!) feedback and support from the author. Don’t know if that is preference for most but I loved my interaction and character support I got from M.V.

As for the actual book… I loved it!!! Simply loved it because it had all the aspects that are my favorites – supernatural, great plot aka great set-up of supernatural universe, and of course romance!


In the first book of The Incandescent Series we are introduced to Laurie Hudson who ran away from her life due to that fact that she is Fire Elemental who can’t control her power. She just happens to start smoking (not not like give me a cigarette… but oooh no I’m on FIRE AGAIN! type of smoking) occasionally which is totally normal to her 2 friends. Weird right? but even her friends are not what they appear to be *cough* awesome secondary characters *cough*.

Now my favorite character besides our ‘lost’ Laurie is our vodka loving Tri-Elemental, Misha, who possesses ability to manipulate earth, air, and water elements. The segregation of power in the supernatural world is complex but easy to follow in this book and we learn that Misha holds dominion over an assigned area and to expand power he needs 4th element to give him enough power to move up in the Power Ladder.

Enter our fiery Laurie! Who by pure supernatural accident gets thrown into the world she knew nothing about and frankly for most of her life tried to ignore or acknowledge. Now where she thought she had a choice to avoid her supernatural freakishness she has no choice now as there is war brewing and she must step up to help Misha. But be prepared to hate him as most of the time he is a total jerk and a hard man even to Laurie. Most of the time I had a hard time loving him but I know that the ones who are like that turn into the most docile pussy-cats for their women. He is a perfect anti-hero.

“You will play whatever game I tell you to play and do whatever I tell you to do. Pravilno? You gave up your life to me the night I saw you in the bar and realized what you are. Do you understand?”

“Fuck you,” Laurie snapped, tugging her arm free from his grip and holding up her hands to keep him at bay. “I’m not your bitch.”

“You are what I say you are until I get tired of you.”

However he can’t shake Laurie as she is a major key in helping him secure the safety of his people and remain in power. The problem is… the more she tries to get control of her power, the more she feels for him (& he for her) and the more she gets buried into the politics that rule the lands behind the scenes of the normal humans.

I won’t be saying more as this book must be experienced if you love a great paranormal read. It is told from 2 POV… Laurie and Misha which I always love getting a male perspective. Their attraction to each other is explosive… literally! You know things happen when you are a supernatural and you get emotional. The one little thing I found a bit wonky is how hard Laurie fought against the attraction and then just simply gave into it at the end.

Overall this book had a great deal of action, romance and great plot and this girl just needs more. Not just from Misha and Laurie as the story does end in HEA. It does leave lots of room for secondary characters to step forward and develop their stories and that’s what I believe M.V. is working on now.

VERDICT: This girl is putting this series on Insta #1click Watch List and I hope you will too!



amazon usAMAZON UK bnereader_ipadpreviewibooks_thumb_featurekobo

Author Bio:

M.V. Freeman lives in North Alabama. A nurse by day, at night she enjoys creating and exploring alternate worlds within our own.  She gravitates toward stories of determined heroines and anti-heroes who push the boundaries as they both fight to find their light in the dark.

M.V. is represented by Victoria Lea from The Aponte Literary Agency. Her award-winning and best-selling debut novel INCANDESCENT is the first in the Hidden Races Series.  Currently she is working on the third book in the series, while plotting others. When not writing, she can be found reading, cooking, throwing around kettle bells, or making coffee. You can find out more about her here at:

Author Website:

Twitter: @MVFree

One more week

Both agents will be attending the 2015 Kentucky Writing Workshop on February 6, 2015. For details and to register go to:


This year’s presenter is the talented @chucksambuchino!