Thank you for inviting me to talk about my latest steampunk romance book in the Bayla and the Golem Series.

A Victorian world of supernatural creatures, magnificent airships, a secret society, and one bluestocking adventuress who, threatened by evil seeks protection by awakening the golem.

First, a little about myself:

I write genre bending paranormal/fantasy novels with a strong romantic element. Alpha heroes and brilliant feisty heroines. HEA with a kick. Erotic paranormal romance to steampunk to epic fantasy. I love to create stories that combine my passion for mythology, romance, and werewolf or animal lore. I like to get my heart rate up so my stories have plenty of adventure, suspense and really bad guys/gals. Escape into my worlds, if you like fantastical worlds, steamy romance and page turning suspense.

Before I show off my second book in the series, allow me to introduce the first.


Blurb For Book 1

On an archaeological expedition, Bayla Gideon, is widowed by a supernatural force and branded with the Hand of Miriam or Knowing Eye. Threatened by evil, she awakens the golem; a mythical man of clay, who protected the Jewish community over three centuries ago.

The golem, Gesher, is surprised. Freedom –by a beautiful, enchanting woman. His desire is to return to the celestial spheres and regain his status as an avenging angel. Yet, Bayla challenges his mind, body and soul. Would he risk his return to the heavens for her?

Besides, dealing with the otherkind, mad inventors and an unrelenting matchmaking aunt, Bayla is equally determined to resist her steamy attraction to the striking fallen angel. 

Thrust into a malevolent war, which includes facing Jack the Ripper, they must resist the magnetic pull toward each other, while protecting the world from encroaching evil.

“Hand of Miriam is a well-written mystery adventure. There are so many paranormal creatures in it that everyone will love it. Plus Bayla gets to ride around in awesome airships and uses some cool steampunk weapons. The world is totally believable and I wished the story would continue when I got to the end.” ~Bitten By Books

“Hand of Miriam is so action-packed and filled with different fast-paced adventures as well as entities ranging from angels to demons, werewolves to vampires, and the murderous Jack the Ripper, it was impossible to sit still while reading this book. I was on the edge of my seat throughout this read and had a very difficult time putting it down.” ~Paranormal Romance Guild

Steampunk, Victorian, with a little mix in of Goth, Hand of Miriam is a mixture of novel I am personally not familiar with, but very much enjoyed reading. ~Clarice’s Book Nook

Interested? Purchase links below.

Amazon  Amazon UK  Barnes and Noble   iTunes  Kobo


The adventure continues with Her Majesty’s Witch, Book 2



Her Majesty’s Witch, a member of the secret society of the Grigori, and married to Emmet, a former angel with the capability to transform into a golem, Bayla’s life is complex, to say the least.

As if her life was not complicated enough, Bayla’s beloved husband is plagued with becoming a golem without notice while unconscious. A trip to visit Herr Doctor Sigmund Freud becomes necessary to get to the root of Emmet’s spontaneous golemness.

Add in a greedy archaeologist, an awakened malevolent Egyptian mummy, and an uninvited trip to the Ottoman Empire’s harem, and matters are complicated to the point of having global consequences.  

Can Bayla and the Golem defeat an evil Egyptian Priest and his horde of flesh eating revenants before he turns Her Majesty’s Empire into the Nile Valley?

Excerpt from Her Majesty’s Witch

        Bayla continued to make her way toward Emmet and Lord Chilcott, the head of the Grigori. Chilcott was also Her Majesty’s long-standing advisor about Grigori affairs and the otherkind.

Emmet sighed and beamed a smile. “I worry when you’re not by my side.” He frowned and lowered his voice. “Should you not remove your gloves and make sure there’s no trouble?”

Her overprotective husband had a suspicious nature; danger lurked everywhere. The last few weeks had been uneventful. No demons, wraiths or the many otherkind and certainly no danger from regular humans.

Lord Chilcott patted him on the back. “Relax old chap. Buckingham Palace is the safest place in the world.”

She glanced at her white silk gloves. “Besides, being bare-handed would not be proper.” With so many people around, she was happy not to read everyone’s negative thoughts. Nobody but the Grigori and Her Majesty knew about her gift, or rather curse. Better to keep the Hand of Miriam, or knowing eye, that branded the palm of her right hand hidden. Though, her palm did prickle. Most worrisome, gloved or not, when evil prowled, her hand developed a heated itch in warning.

A dignified looking Englishman wearing an Ottoman Naval uniform and red fez, veered toward them. “Lord Chilcott?”

Chilcott raised a brow and smiled in recognition. “Admiral, or is it Pasha now?”

“Both actually.”

Chilcott bowed. “Admiral Henry Felix Woods, may I introduce Lady Bayla Gesher and Lord Emmet Gesher.”

The Admiral bowed. How that fez stays on his head defies the laws of gravity. As he straightened, he smiled and whispered. “You are the veillier.”

Bayla’s eyes widened. “You must be…”

Before she finished her sentence he hastily whispered, “Grigori.” He turned to Emmet. “Pleased to make your acquaintance, Sir Gesher.”

Emmet narrowed his eyes in silence. Always suspecting everyone of nefarious intentions. Bayla cleared her throat.

Her husband raised his brow at her and then remembered his manners. “Pleasure indeed, sir.”

Lord Chilcott chimed in, “Admiral Woods was released from the Royal Navy to serve under Sultan Abdul Hamid II.”

A second Ottoman approached, a non-military Turk wearing a gold and red embroidered silk jacket and fez. He had large, dark bug-eyes, and a black handlebar mustache. Admiral Woods stiffened. She did not need to read his mind. This little man was not a member of the Grigori and perhaps a foe. “May I present Mahir Pasha, the Sultan’s advisor.”

“Quite a pleasure to meet such a beauty and her dashing husband.” Mahir’s voice sounded tentative and breathy as if each word was confidential.

The conversation turned to Balkan politics, yet Mahir stared at her with his bug-eyes as if trying to figure her out. She excused herself to visit the Ladies lounge. On her way, she noticed the tiny in stature but lofty in authority Queen Victoria talking to Prime Minister Gladstone. Odd, catching a glimpse of Her Majesty made her gloved hand burn as if she had picked up a sample of Urtica dioica, stinging nettles. Inside the Ladies lounge, she surreptitiously removed her glove and glanced at the knowing eye. Though it felt inflamed, nothing appeared different.

Exposing the hand to air offered instant relief. She tried not to read the thoughts of the two women preening over their hair and hats before the opulent mirrors. Since acquiring Rebecca of Worms’ Grimoire that detailed how to shut out other’s thoughts, her life had improved. With a brief effort, she cleared her mind. Nonetheless, she picked up their fleeting thoughts of anti-Semitism on a Jewess given a title and invited to such an event.

Bayla smiled graciously and they nervously returned the gesture. Improper or not, she kept her gloves off and rushed out of the lounge. Something was afoot; perhaps even danger to Her Majesty. She looked for Emmet. Despite his towering frame, she could not spot him amongst the crowd. Lord Chilcott and Admiral Woods were in absentia as well. Perhaps they left for more privacy. There was a secret office where Her Majesty met with her Grigori contacts.

A snake-like voice startled her. “Lady Gesher, I wanted to talk to you.”

Bayla twisted around. Bug-eyed Mahir grinned at her. Rather a smirk. Why? Without her gloves, she discretely faced her palm to read the man’s thoughts. He found her attractive and wondered if she would consider leaving her husband. Not for him but to join his sultan’s harem. Really, give up freedom? Not likely. But there was more. The real reason he had tagged along. Apparently he was a spy sent by the paranoid Sultan to keep an eye on Admiral Henry Felix Woods Pasha. Though the admiral was a loyal servant of the Ottoman Empire, as a member of the Grigori, his allegiance belonged to them above all. Did the Sultan know Henry served the secret society? A few worldwide monarchs knew of the Grigori. “Mr. Mahir, have you seen my husband?”

“As a matter of fact,” he whispered, or rather hissed, “I was about to ask you the same thing. I went to talk to a young lady. When I returned, Mr. Gesher, Lord Chilcott and Admiral Woods were nowhere to be found.”

She wanted to correct him, Sir Gesher, but thought better of it. “My husband is not fond of crowds, I’m certain they stepped out for a breath of fresh air.” Rather, circumventing the man’s spying efforts.

His eyes grew bigger, if that was even possible. Would they pop like bubbles? “Your palm. The Hand of Fatima!”

Bayla waved a dismissive hand. “Oh, just hand art.”

Before she could protest, he grabbed her hand. “No, this is not paint. It’s Hebrew.”

She tugged her hand from his grasp. “I’m Jewish and I fancy having a symbol to ward off evil.”

“Ah, so that explains your subtle exotic look.”

“Yes, well I really must find my husband.” Reminding him of her marital status, she turned and waltzed off in pursuit of said missing spouse.

“Let us both find him.”

Bayla didn’t want to be impolite but before she could protest she sensed imminent danger. She instinctively turned her palm toward where Queen Victoria stood chatting with Prime Minister Gladstone. A young man approached carrying a tray of sweets. Beneath the cover was not food but a blaster with an odd syringe. A toxin!


Purchase Links And On Limited Sale:

Amazon  Amazon UK   Barnes and Noble  iTunes   Kobo

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