Saturday, December 31, 2011

Holiday Blog Hop Final Post: RomFan Co-Founder Annette Stone

First I would like to thank all the authors who participated in RomFan’s First Annual Holiday Blog Hop.  All of your stories were wonderful and you all were great sports.

A special thank you to Keta Diablo whom if it was not for her having the idea I would have never thought of it myself, Keta you are awesome big cyber hugs to you my friend.

So, after reading all these great memories I decided to throw my own together for the last day of 2011. 

I have a lot of favorite holidays with my family but every year two special ones come to mind. 

The first one I was probably eight and got my ears pierced that year.  Well, my daddy hands me a box and asks me to wrap it for my mom inside was a pair of diamond earrings, so as any good daughter *snickers* I did as I was asked. On Christmas morning my dad was handing out the gifts and he handed me the gift I had wrapped for my mom and he handed an identical gift to my mom.  We went to hand them back and said he got them mixed up and that is when he informed us that we wrapped our own Christmas presents, you see he bought us identical earrings.

Now the second favorite Christmas was the following year and we spent it at my grandparents in Maryland.  I always loved going to grandpa and grandma’s because they moved a lot due to my grandpa’s job.  Anyway, this particular Christmas I was opening my gifts when I came upon one which was a stuffed St. Bernard and a book on how to care for your St. Bernard.  Of course I gave my dad a quizzical look and asked why would I need a book to care for a stuffed dog?  Hey I was nine what did I know.  I didn’t get an answer.

After Christmas we drove home, we always drove my mom fears flying.  When we got close to home daddy said we had to make a quick stop, so we stopped at this house and dad went in while mom and I waited in our VW Camper Van thingy, I know that is telling my age.  When my dad came out he had a bundle of fluff in his arms yep, you guessed it, my St. Bernard puppy my dad named Chickasaw, Chick for short.  Chick was my constant companion and friend until I was 16 when due to my parents divorce and lose of our home due to a fire I had to find him a new home. 

Me and Daddy
My daddy has always been the best daddy in the world.  He came into my life when I was three and I did not make a very good first impression as he likes to remind me.  But, he gave me his name and loved me more than anything else in this world. 

He called me just some time ago and said he came across this site called RomFan Reviews.  I told him yep that was me and his reply was “My daughter reads erotica” I just said yep.  He came back with “That’s my girl”.  He also likes the word erotica, such a dirty old man lol…

Although we don’t talk much or see each other often I know that he will always be there to catch me if I need him.  To hold me if I need to cry or tease me until I laugh so hard I can’t breath.  Because I know that as he is one of the most important people in my life I am also one of his and I am still his “baby” as he still calls me.  

I love you Daddy and thank you for all the wonderful memories you have given me and the many more we will make.
Our dance
Now as a final gift for the year from RomFan Reviews I will be giving away a $20 Amazon Gift Card to one lucky person.  Just leave a comment and your email address.  Contest ends January 2, 2012 at 11:59 pm est.  You MUST leave your email to be entered.

Friday, December 30, 2011

Holiday Blog Hop #18: KD Grace

The Crowded Room

It’s that time of year again. It’s time to wax slightly nostalgic and do a little navel gazing and reflecting. The last week of the year has always fascinated me. It’s not like the rest of the year. It’s almost like there are really only fifty-one weeks in the year, then there’s the crowded room of a space tacked on to the end, a place not unlike my grandmother’s living room was, all crowded full of the bits and pieces and memorabilia of eighty-three years of living.

The last week of the year is a mini version of that living room that happens anew every year, a mental version, a room that everyone has in their head. It doesn’t matter how expansive or how crazy the previous fifty-one weeks have been, this final week is the tiny space into which we crowd everything that has happened, and for those last seven days of the year, we reflect and remember.
At the front of that crowded room is a big picture window looking back onto all of the past years of experiences. During this last week of 2011, we’ll go inside that room, shut the door behind us, knowing we’ll never go back through that door again. There we’ll settle in to the one comfy chair, the only space that isn’t avalanching with memories and emotions and experiences, and we’ll reflect. Occasionally we’ll stop for a long stare out the window into the years past to try and make out how it all fits together. I often write a massive journal entry at the year’s end. I settle in with wine and chocolate and good coffee and all my favourite things and write. The entry is always full of reflections and memories and plans for the future, all done during the time spent in that crowded room that’s the last week of the year. I wager I’m in good company in that endeavor.

I used to ask my grandmother who was in this old photo or that, or where she got this porcelain doll or that china figurine. Every item in her living room had a story. It was a gift from someone, or a souvenir from some marked event in her life, or something someone had made for her or she had made for herself. My grandmother’s living room was a book full of stories I only ever experienced through her eyes, stories that were lost in the mist to anyone but her and the few of her older friends who still remained, all with story book living rooms of their own.

This time of year, in this last week, we all sit in our mental story book living rooms and tell ourselves one last time the stories that have been our life for the past fifty-one weeks. We laugh at our joys, we mourn our losses, thankful that they’re now passed and we nod our heads in satisfaction at our successes, promising they’ll be even bigger next year.

My grandmother lived to be eighty-three. There was a finality about her over-crowded living room. That last-week-of-the-year room we all occupy right now has its own finality. After midnight tomorrow, we can crowd no more into that room. We leave it as it is, papers strewn, boxes open, bed unmade, cup of tea half finished. Mind you, some of us spend our last hours in that room frantically trying to crowd just a little more into it. That’s me, sitting in the recliner madly tapping away at the laptop trying to get another chapter written, another short story out before I have to leave this room and lock the door behind me.

And it’s been a good year, a wild rambunctious year crowded with laughter and tears and the celebration of two new novels, a challenging Coast to Coast walk across England, conferences, readings, vegetables planted and eaten. I have lots of pictures in my year’s mental photo album, I have lots of triumphs and losses, and lots of time spent with wonderful friends and loved ones. Hold it! I’ll stop right now because once I get going, I’ll give you the whole inventory, and you, no doubt have your own crowded room to inventory.

It doesn’t matter though, if we’re sitting reflecting on all that fills this room, or if we’re frantically trying to fill it fuller before the clock strikes. At midnight tomorrow night, we’ll all take a deep breath, open the door and walk out into the empty room waiting for us, the empty room that’s 2012. All we’ll take with us is our memories of the room we left and our hopes and plans for how we’ll fill this bright new room that stretches promisingly before us. Some of us make New Years resolutions, some of us just plow in without a plan of action, but one thing is for certain, this time next year, if we live that long, we’ll be sitting in the full room again reflecting on how the experiences of 2012 have shaped us, anticipating how we’ll take the experiences into the next empty room. And that’s all we’ll be allowed to take with us, our experiences, our memories,

My wish for you all is that your reflections in your crowded room will be good ones, satisfying ones. And at the stroke of midnight, that you’ll enter that bright new empty room of 2012 with hope and joy and anticipation of how wonderfully you’ll fill it up.   

Buy Links:
My Website:

K D Grace lives in South England with her husband and a back garden full of free-loading birds. When she’s not writing, she practices extreme vegetable gardening. The plan is take over the world with veg plots. It’s the veg plot plot.
She walks her stories, and she’s serious about it. This August she and her husband walked the Coast to Coast rout across England. For her, inspiration is directly proportionate to how quickly she wears out a pair of walking boots.
She believes Freud was right. In the end, it really IS all about sex, well sex and love. And nobody’s happier about that than she, cuz otherwise, what would she write about?
She has erotica published with Xcite Books, Mammoth, Cleis Press, Black Lace, Erotic Review, Ravenous Romance, and Scarlet Magazine.
Her critically acclaimed erotic romance novels include, The Initiation of Ms Holly, and The Pet Shop, both published by Xcite Books.
The first book of her Lakeland Heatwave trilogy, Body Temperature and Rising, is now available in all eBook formats. Available in paperback February 2012.
Website: She’s also on Facebook and Twitter.

I'll be giving away a free pdf copy of either of my novels, The Initiation of Ms Holly, or The Pet Shop. Winner's choice. Jump over to my website and leave a comment along with your email for a chance to win.

Thursday, December 29, 2011

Holiday Blog Hop #17: Anne Holly

Holiday Memories (with Giveaway)

By Anne Holly

I chuckled when Annette told me that the theme for this blog hop was to be “holiday memories,” because there’s only one thing that comes to mind… and I’m not sure if people really want to hear about it. In retrospect, given this Thing that comes to mind, it’s kind of a surprise I have become a “holiday romance writer.” (That’s not all I write, but I’ve kind of overdone it on the holidays, so that’s becoming my reputation.)

You see, this Thing that came to mind was – wait for it – throwing up.

I know, a bit on the TMI, but this really is my firmest holiday memory – because, you see, it happens every single damn year, or at least it seemed to, until recently.

When I was a kid, there were two things I loved that we only ever had at the holidays – grapes and soda pop. They were too expensive, and “special,” so my parents only got them at Christmas. I recall us keeping the 2L pop bottles under the kitchen table in December, and how I used to count the days until Christmas so we could crack one of those suckers. I don’t know why I liked pop so much. Perhaps it was simply because I wasn’t allowed to have it the rest of the year. And grapes, well, those things are simply awesome. So, the result of gorging myself, every year on these things? Almost ever year – possibly every year – I would consume so much that I made myself ill, and Boxing Day always found me waking up a bit green from my adventures. Holidays are often seasons of excess, and I am no saint.

A few years ago, this excess came in the form of a roast chicken. I am a vegetarian, and I have been since I was fourteen years old. I refuse to tell you how long that is, exactly, but rest assured it has been a long while. But, when I got pregnant, I decided I would go with my cravings, within reason, in case they were my body’s way of telling me I was lacking things. I had an extremely healthy pregnancy on a careful vegetarian diet – except for one, ill-advised night when I was about seven months along. Christmas Eve 2007.

That night, I was craving roast bird. Not turkey, since I have always hated turkey, even when I used to eat meat. I wanted chicken. I always loved chicken, and it was the hardest of the meats to give up, I admit. That Christmas eve, when looking at a Swiss Chalet delivery menu, I cracked. I love their perogies, so that was my original intent… But I knew they were famous for their wonderful chicken. And I picked a chicken dinner with all the fixins’. Call it pregnant lady insanity, but there I sat, gorging myself on dead bird and dressing. I was in heaven.

Not so much about 2am that night when my chicken dinner left my body of its own accord. Let’s just say the chicken and I had a horrible breakup that left me lying helpless and crying on the bathroom floor for about an hour. Merry Christmas to me!

As it turns out, that was not to be the only time my son would have me up and sobbing at 2am. However, it was the last time the Christmas Up Chuck Curse hit. Since then, my holidays have passed relatively uneventful, as far as gastrointestinal discomfort is concerned.

Why? I don’t know. Perhaps I have learned a few lessons about the size of my eyes in relation to the size of my stomach. That would be nice. I have no desire to carry on the tradition.

And that’s the most striking memory that comes to mind when people ask me about my most memorable holiday. I’ve had many good and bad holiday experiences, but this Thing really is hard to beat.

Oh, and the grapes? My son and I still ring in every New Year with a big bowl of them. With ginger ale soda. But we don’t overdo it. Some traditions don’t warrant getting handed down through the generations.

Happy New Year, one and all!


Leave a comment and tell me about your worst or most humiliating holiday moment for a chance to win a Kindle copy of my New Years erotic-romance, Bubbly, via Amazon. Winner will be drawn Dec 31, 2011.

Anne Holly is a Canadian writer of romance and erotic-romance, as well as a mother and teacher. She is the author of the novel Strings Attached, which was described by The Romance Reviews as “a classic contemporary romance.” She has been published by Wild Horse Press, Decadent Publishing and Rebel Ink Press, and in 2012 by Pink Petal Books. Anne’s work is characterized by its unusual heroes, sweet/spicy balance, witty dialogue, responsible citizenship, and its positive, optimistic nature. She has found a particular niche in holiday romance. You may visit Anne at her blog or website, or find her on GoodReadsFacebook and Twitter  (@anneholly2010). Sign up for her newsletter here. Email her at

Wednesday, December 28, 2011

Holiday Blog Hop #16: Keta Diablo

Today we have Keta Diablo visiting us. Hi Keta.

[Keta waves] Hello lovely RomFan fans. So glad you stopped by.

[Annette] Let's talk about the Holidays. What are your earliest memories of Christmas?

[Keta] Ah, my favorite holiday. Well, I remember waking up when I was five years old and scrambling down the stairs. I had asked Santa for a special doll that year and didn't know if he got my letter. I was thrilled when the doll was beneath the tree. My mom has a video of this moment and not too long ago we watched it. Wow! Where have all the years gone?

[Annette]  Did you have a favorite Holiday book as a child?

[Keta] Not really a favorite book, but my mom often read Nursery Rhymes to me. She recited poems too that she learned from her grandmother. Not long ago, I asked her to write them down so they aren't lost to history forever.

[Annette]: What was the best book you read this year?

[Keta] Spymaster's Lady by Joanna Bourne. I love this series, but then I'm a huge historical freak. I like her writing and her twisted plots. You never know what will happen next.

[Annette] What was the best Holiday gift you received as a child?

[Keta] We had a very good family friend who never married. Every year, he'd come to our home for the holidays. He didn't know much about children because he never had his own, but he was such a kind person. He bought lovely Christmas gifts, but had a hard time asking the store clerk what he should purchase because he was deaf. Every year he brought me this horrible perfume called Evening In Paris. I imagine he asked the woman at the perfume counter but forget to tell her my age. I dreaded opening his gift because I knew what it would be. Mind you, I just didn't get a bottle of the perfume -- I got the whole shebang, powder, cologne, perfume, oil and whatever came in that darn gift box. Then one year he came with an envelope and $100 for me. He said I was old enough to buy what I wanted now and he wanted me to choose something I really like. If I never smell Evening In Paris again, I'll be a happy cat.   

[Annette] What are your favorite books to give as gifts?

[Keta] I buy books only for my youngest son because he's a reading fanatic. My other two children rarely open a book (unfortunately). I buy my youngest American history books, particularly anything about World War II and the Civil War. I can never go wrong if I stay in those categories. 

[Annette] What are you reading now?

[Keta] I’m revisiting an old favorite right now – Sweet, Savage Love by Rosemary Rogers. Another all-time favorite is The Windflower by Laura London. I usually have five books going at once due to my short attention span. This past year some of my favorites were: Hunger Games. Daughter of Smoke and Bone, The Bronze Horseman and anything by Helen Kirkman.  Sadly, I can’t get to all the books I have – some from LAST Christmas yet that I haven’t started. Such is the life of a writer.

[Annette] What would you like to get from Santa this year?

[Keta] A Kindle Fire, of course!

[Annette] Ah, come on, Keta, leave us with some wise words or something we pass on.

[Keta] Be happy to. I spend too much time surfing the Internet for sayings from all walks of life. I’ll leave you with some of my favorites today (below) about the Holiday Season. Whether you observe Christmas, Hanukah or another holiday celebration, may yours be filled with wonder, and most of all love.

Namaste, Keta Diablo  

* * *

Time was with most of us, when Christmas Day, encircling all our limited world like a magic ring, left nothing out for us to miss or seek; bound together all our home enjoyments, affections, and hopes; grouped everything and everyone round the Christmas fire, and make the little picture shining in our bright young eyes, complete.  ~ Charles Dickens ~

* * *

What is Christmas? It is tenderness for the past, courage for the present, hope for the future. It is a fervent wish that every cup may overflow with blessings rich and eternal, and that every path may lead to peace. ~ Agnes M. Pharo ~

* * *

It comes every year and will go on forever. And along with Christmas belong the keepsakes and the customs. Those humble, everyday things a mother clings to, and ponders, like Mary in the secret spaces of her heart. ~ Marjorie Holmes ~

* * *

Until one feels the spirit of Christmas, there is no Christmas. All else is outward display--so much tinsel and decorations. For it isn't the holly, it isn't the snow. It isn't the tree not the firelight's glow. It's the warmth that comes to the hearts of men when the Christmas spirit returns again. ~ Unknown ~

* * *
You can find Keta here on the Internet:

Keta’s Haunt:

Thank you so much RomFan Reviews for hosting the First Annual Christmas Blog Hop.

Tuesday, December 27, 2011

Holiday Blog Hop #15 Jacquie Rogers

by Jacquie Rogers Copyright © 2011 Jacquie Rogers
Sometimes we have to dig through a whole lot of hazy memories to get to the fond ones. One thing is clear, we appreciated our gifts. We lived in the country and seldom ever went to the city, we didn’t get a “treat” every week. We only had a few toys and Dad made most of those. We didn't have DS games or X-Boxes—we had horses and peddlecars. Come along with me down memory lane.
Reality check: Christmas is a lot of work. Farming is hard work but when you add in baking Christmas goodies, shopping, making gifts (sewing and such) on top of that, you have some busy weeks leading up to the Big Day.
A little background: I grew up on a dairy farm. The thing about milk cows is they need milked twice a day every day, twelve hours apart. Cows like a daily routine and they don’t like it broken. Plus, they get downright cantankerous if you don’t feed them when they think they ought to be fed. Translation: cows really don’t much care for Christmas.
But I loved Christmas. For one thing, we kids didn’t have to do chores on Christmas morning, lest we’d see what Santa brought before Dad got in from milking. It’s cold on December 25th in Owyhee County, Idaho, so feeding calves and cleaning milking machines wasn’t all that much fun. What a treat to get to sleep in. Of course, that meant Dad had even more work to do so it took him longer to get to the house.
My brother and I shared a room and we had a direct view of the Christmas tree from our doorway. To prevent us seeing it, Mom sat in the doorway (she was paraplegic so was in a wheelchair) and corralled us in the room. She brought a supply of homemade cocoa with marshmallows melting in it, and sometimes topped with whipped cream. There never has, nor ever will be, hot chocolate as delicious as my mom’s.
Of course, what goes in must come out, so then we’d beg and plead her to let us go to bathroom. My brother was younger so he always got to go first. The rules were that we had to dash in as quickly as possible, only looking at the floor. Well you know we tried everything we could to get just one peek at the tree and all the enticing gifts surrounding it. After my turn, my brother and I would have a little powwow (whispers only) to discuss what wondrous glimpses we’d caught.
Ah, the anticipation! And wasn’t Dad ever going to get finished up??? Sometimes he’d pound on our bedroom window and scare us, or pretend like he couldn’t come in. What torture!
But finally. FINALLY. He would come in the house and our festivities began. First we high-tailed it to the unwrapped gifts that Santa brought. After about fifteen seconds, we were ready to open gifts. One thing we kids had to accept was that Dad was going to play with all the best toys, so if we got something really, really good, there’d be a wait.
But to tell the truth, it was great fun watching Dad play with those toys. One year he and the cat had quite a time with my brother’s racecar set. And then when my aunt and uncle came over, Dad and my uncle were racing, trying to get the cars past the cat, who’d bat them off the track every go-round. LOL. We even have a picture of that. They wore out the brushes on the cars so my brother didn’t get to play with the racecar set for a few days until Dad was able to procure new brushes (he didn't realize they would wear so quickly). This wasn’t out of the ordinary.
No squirt gun was safe from my mom. She also loved cap guns and I always hoped Santa brought extra caps to accommodate her. One year Santa brought a pair of Roy Rogers pistols and the holster. She played with those while I figured out how to use my bow and arrow without shooting the floor-lamp over.
My parents taught me to take pleasure in other people’s joy. This gift will be with me always. Christmas was never a quiet and serene day at our house, and to this day, it’s still not. It’s a day to share and love, with exuberance.
In that same spirit, I'd love to give a few gifts away today. Tell me, what's the one gift you gave that was the most fun—the gift you're so glad you gave? We'll have three winners and three prizes today: a $10 Amazon gift card, a signed of Much Ado About Marshals, and a free ecopy of Faery Merry Christmas.
Thanks so much to RomFan Reviews for hosting me on this blog hop.  It has been really fun reading everyone recounting their memories!
Good Luck, and a Happy 2012 to you!

Monday, December 26, 2011

Review: Demons Like it Hot by Sidney Ayers

Demons Like it Hot (Demons Unleashed #2)
by: Sidney Ayers
$6.99 mass market paperback
Sourcebooks Casablanca
Paranormal Romance
Released: December 2011

As a demon mercenary, Matthias has never been too concerned with right or wrong, at least until he met Serah.  Too bad his job was to betray her, but at the last second he changed his mind.  To this day he doesn't understand what it is about her that made him botch his first job in hundreds of years.  All he knows is she's irresistable to him, which means he needs to keep his distance. 

When he's given the assignment of guarding Serah from demon assassins, he doesn't think he has the willpower to keep his hands to himself.  She's the light to his dark, and although it will slowly kill him, he agrees to keep her safe.

Serah doesn't think she needs a demon bodyguard, she just needs people to leave her alone so she can focus on the cooking show she signed her catering business up for.  She doesn't believe there are demons coming to kill her-that is, until a narrow brush with death makes her change her mind.  She's not to keen on her bodyguard, but as the days go by, she begins to feel drawn to him, like she's known him before.  Trying to keep her hands off his smokin' hot body it getting harder too, but she knows something between them would never work, since they are so different.

But maybe love can conquer all...

This is the second book to the series, and I found myself with a few questions, since whatever happened originally between Matthias and Serah took place in the first book that I didn't read.  I'd say read the first book before you pick this up to avoid confusion.  The story started out good, with the characters and story flowing nice, but once the two characters started developing feelings for each other, I had a hard time with it.  There was too much bouncing between "I hate you" and "I want you" for me to be comfortable with.  I'm a fan of books on demons, but I'm sorry to say this book didn't do anything for me.

Carla gives this book a

Saturday, December 24, 2011

Holiday Blog Hop #14: Claire Ashgrove

I am a dragon at heart.

No, I don't breathe fire (well my demi-demons might argue that), and I don't spit acid. I do collect gems. And I wish I had some mystical power.

But beyond all that, if there's a dragon in the vicinity, I'm so there.

And that leads me to one of my favorite Christmas memories. I confess, this is a totally materialistic memory, but even now, many years later, it's very dear to my heart.

For years, years, years, I suffered through everyone buying me what they thought I wanted, and never paying attention to the things I'd mention. The last time I can recall a Christmas where I was literally squealing when I opened the wrapping paper, was as a child.

But one year, perhaps after I spent the majority of the year subtly (okay, not so subtly) remarking that just because I was grown didn't mean I had to have sensible gifts and I could still enjoy the frivolous... I found heaven under my Christmas tree.

My mother finally stopped pretending she didn't have a dragon-wanna be in her house. And somehow she managed to find everything-dragon for me. Cute little dragon figurines, dragons in snow-globes, angry majestic dragons, and even hand-painted dragon plates.

Even better -- she signed up the entire family! My aunt joined the parade of dragons, and I had a couple dragon t-shirts plus more set-abouts. And a dragon pendant. My significant other found a dragon music box and he made it doubly exciting with pairing that gift with a Merlin music box.
(Why did I let him get away? :face-palm:)

In any case, at twenty....something.... I had a kids Christmas and was able to remember the magic of my childhood. I've never received another dragon, but those gifts, those priceless treasures, are fondly displayed in a hutch, all together, all there looking at me to remind me there's magic surrounding us.

I've been able to give that joy to my children, and relive the magic of Christmas through their eyes. That's more important. And frankly, far more memorable. But I saw that photo when I was browsing for something to include on my post, and well... the dragons just wouldn't be ignored!

But speaking of Christmas Magic, this year I released a very special Christmas story. A BROKEN CHRISTMAS digs into the hearts of two wounded people, who have only one thing remaining in their lives -- love. It's a romance that I hope will touch your heart.

Contemporary Holiday Romance

The truest gifts are damaged ...

Delta Force operative Kyle Garland divorced his wife to protect her. His top-secret missions expose him to constant danger, and his world is full of lies and deceit. But the threat to Aimee doesn’t come in the form of insurgents or bombs. Rather, his soul-deep love and the dreams he silently nurtures are her greatest hazard. When a career-ending injury brings him home for Christmas, to keep her safe he must bury his feelings and hide the monster he’s become.

Fourteen months ago, Aimee had the perfect marriage… then Kyle blindsided her with a divorce. Now, he’s coming home, and she intends to get her answers. Yet the crippled man she confronts bears scars her years of nursing cannot heal. The secret he’s hiding is tearing him apart. No matter how she tries, he keeps her at a distance, despite the love that’s still evident in his kiss. What Aimee doesn’t know is her own damaged past terrifies Kyle more than any wartime horror.

As she forces him to confront his demons, will the holiday shred the fragile bonds they share, or will Christmas complete all their broken parts?

Read Excerpt

What about you -- Do you have a holiday memory that somehow completed you? In exchange for your stories, I have a gift for you.
Go to my blog and leave your comment
One Random Commentor will Receive Two Special Prizes:

a - a .pdf copy of A Broken Christmas
b - a .pdf copy of my Yule novella, Destined to Die

I will post the winner here tomorrow!

Meanwhile -- DON'T FORGET this is part of the RomFan Reviews Holiday Blog Hop

Handsome here, will take you to the official list of all participating authors.

If you'd like to go directly to the next host, Jacquie Rogers is sharing her memory on the 27th.

For your convienence, here's a list of all participating authors and their Blog Hop dates -- remember, everyone has prizes to share. You can't win if you don't Hop!

Bobbi Brattz December 11th
Franny Armstrong December 12th
Regina Carlysle December 13th
Elizabeth Amber December 14th
Brita Addams December 15th
D.B. Reynolds December 16th
Beth Trissel December 17th
Tori St. Claire December 18th
Amy Romine December 19th
Skhye Moncrief December 20th
Carrie Ann Ryan December 21st
J.S. Wayne December 22nd
Shannan Albright December 23rd
Claire Ashgrove December 24th
Jacquie Rogers December 27th

Keta Diablo December 28th
Anne Holly December 29th
K.D. Grace December 30th