Frankenstein Day | Cold Fingers

Today it’s Frankenstein Day, yes another strange holiday, but one that should be celebrated. Before I started writing this blog post I googled Frankenstein Day and how to celebrate it.

The suggestion coming up was to dress up like The Creature in Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein, read Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein, or try to figure out why The Creature did what he did (I remember an entire lecture on this subject when I attended the University, interesting).

If you haven’t read Frankenstein, I suggest you do. There are several different versions, I’ll be linking to one below where the ebook is free on Amazon (the price seem to vary from retailer to retailer). If it’s ‘the right one’ I don’t know.

The one I have is a paperback with a dark gothic cover with worn corners. It’s one of the physical books I’ll keep. I’ve given away box after box of books these last years – ebooks take up so much less space – but some I can’t part from despite trying to be one of those minimalistic people LOL.

But, as amazing as Frankenstein is, I find Ms Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley even more so. Her mother was an advocate of women’s rights and one of the founding feminist philosophers, her father was also a philosopher as well as an anarchist. Imagine being a little girl in the beginning of the 1800s and grow up with those values.  Mary Shelley rocks! LOL

So read the book!

But, I thought we would have ourselves an M/M celebration of the Frankenstein Day here on the blog. Many books have been inspired by Frankenstein and one of them is Cold Fingers by Amy Spector.

It’s hard to talk about this book without giving the entire plot away. Cold Finger is not your standard romance, but it is romance. It’s a homage to classic horror, a brilliant gothic tale, and it’s both funny and creepy as hell.

I can write horror. I have no problem going gory, crazy, creepy, insane or truly evil, but what I can’t do is creeping around large dark houses. I scare myself to death and Cold Fingers…I almost died LOL.

If you’re uncertain if you want to read this, go download a sample. Most sites allow you a 20% sample, and this book has one of the best prologues I’ve ever read. Don’t let all my horror talk scare you off, Cold Finger is a paranormal romance book.

So if you’re uncertain if this is a book for you, read the prologue as your celebration of Frankenstein Day. It’s awesome!

Ah, I’m sure Ms Spector won’t mind if I post it, so here you go:

 Love is the feel of cold fingers.

I remembered the words as well as if I had said them myself. The imagery of them had haunted me, had kept me awake at night.

“And how do you feel about him now? Was seeing him again a disappointment?”

Dr. Anthony’s question brought me back to my surroundings and away from my memories of damp grass and the smell of freshly turned earth.

“Disappointment?” I asked, unable to imagine why she thought seeing the man again could ever leave me disappointed.

“Yes. You know. Did he live up to all your memories? Or did those two years give him a rosy tint?”

I thought about that; Dr. Anthony watched quietly from the chair across from me. She was a pretty woman. Not young, or at least older than myself, but wasn’t youth relative? Wasn’t everything? When I was ten, I distinctly remembered thinking my mother was practically at death’s door. She was thirty-two: the same age I was now.

“No,” I answered, grabbing a tissue to shred from the box placed strategically on the coffee table between us. Placed no closer to me than to her, as if at any moment either one of us could break down.


“No. He was as perfect as I remembered.” And seeing him again had caused a weight that had been pressing down on me to disappear. It was as if I had been holding my breath since the moment Vic disappeared from my life.
Dr. Anthony tapped her pen against her notebook, studying me as if trying to read something in my face.

“But you didn’t always feel that way, did you, Christopher?” She tilted her head slightly, eyes still watching me. “You were the one who broke it off.”

“I know,” I snapped and then laughed, giving her a guilty smile. “I know I was the one who ended it. And I remember why.”

“So do I.” Her perpetually calm voice was beginning to grate on my nerves. It didn’t normally. “But I’d like you to explain it to me again. Why did you feel the need to end it?”

I dragged my hands through my hair, pulling a little and concentrating on the sting. “I thought he was a necrophiliac.”

“Yes. So, you no longer think that’s true?”

I thought about it. I played those old memories through my mind, the ones I had revisited and revisited a million times before, and the ones from the last few weeks.

“No.” I fought the smile I felt tugging at my lips. “Now I’m positive.”

And when you read the rest of the story, you’ll remember those words LOL.

Cold FingersA paranormal romance.

Christopher Minnick is at a bad place in his life. Turning thirty and newly out of the hospital, the last thing he wants to do is attend a birthday dinner, even one thrown in his honor.

When he is introduced to a friend’s godson, things just might be starting to look up.

Or are they?

Victor Polidori seems like the perfect man. He’s clever, attractive and interested. But, even as Christopher finds himself falling in love, there are some things that just don’t add up. And when bodies start disappearing, Christopher knows he must get to the bottom of it.

Will Christopher find his happily ever after or is it true what they say? All the good ones are either married or straight. Or they’re necrophiliacs.

*** Includes special link for BONUS Hidden Chapter short story Mrs. Greenberg Sells a Watch (Grant Cooper Book 1/Cold Fingers Book 1.5) ***

This story is also part of BURIED DESIRES – A Horror Double Feature.

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Cup o’ Sugar

It’s release day!

Cup o’ Sugar is a short werewolf story in the Hot Flash series. The stories in the series aren’t related to each other, but it’s a series of really short stories, 2000-5000 words, written by JMS-Books authors.

I used to write a lot of short fiction, flash fiction was my go-to format, but when I write that short I most often write horror. It’s much easier for me to create something creepy in a couple of pages than it is to create something romantic, so I cheated. I made the main character a werewolf who finds his mate – insta-love is okay then, right? LOL

Roarak Halfhide of the Halfhide pack found his mate in a cafe called Cup o’ sugar, but his mate is both human and male, something he doesn’t think will go down well with his pack. So, he does what every sensible alpha would do and decides to pine from afar. It’s going well, in a couple of years time he thinks he’ll learn to like coffee and maybe Sam, his mate, won’t run into hiding every time Roarak enters the cafe. Maybe…

But even the best-laid plans…

Looking up the street, he sighed. He couldn’t see over the hedge, but he automatically turned in the direction of Cup o’ Sugar, his favorite cafe. The only cafe he’d ever consider entering. Huddling in a cramped space filled with humans wasn’t his idea of fun, but he’d push through any crowd to get a glimpse of Sammy. Sam—not listed anywhere, no last name to be found—was the most beautiful creature he’d ever laid eyes on. His scent had called Roarak in from the street and enslaved him on the spot. Not that it ever could be, but his heart and soul belonged to Sam.

They had never spoken to each other. Sam hid in the kitchen every time Roarak entered the cafe, his heavenly scent souring in fear every time he glanced in Roarak’s direction.

Someday he’d find the reason for Sam’s fear and he’d take care of it.

“I’m gonna grab a cup of coffee.”

“Coffee! Are you insane?” Zev frowned at him. “I’m serious, have you gone mad? I thought we were ditching work for a beer, a nice cold beer.”

Cup o’ Sugar didn’t serve beer.

“No, I want coffee.”

“Yeah? Well, I’ll see you at home then. And I’m taking the car.”

Roarak almost groaned. Walking home in this heat would be a nightmare. They’d manage to purchase a property right outside the city. It was in bad condition, but since they were carpenters, at least most of them, they’d fix it up.

As soon as they got some money everything would turn out great…as soon as they managed to scrape together a few bucks. This constant worry about money. He wiped his neck.

The good thing about the property was the acres of land—not nearly as much as his old pack had, but enough for the six of them to run on.

“Fine, take the car, but you’re cooking dinner.”

Zev gave him the finger—not very beta like. Had the beta in his old pack done that, Roarak’s father would have had him whipped. But Roarak wasn’t his father so he simply returned the gesture before walking out on the street and turning in direction of the cafe.

“Hey, asshole.” Zev rolled down the window as he cruised up next to him. “When are you gonna claim her?”

Roarak winced. Her.

“You’re fooling no one, you know. We can all scent the desire on you, and that desperation in your eyes—you’re not hiding it well. Plus you hate coffee and you never eat any of the stuff they have in cafes. Just snatch her up and bring her home. She’ll adjust.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Cup o’ Sugar is on a 20% discount at JMS-Book shop till the 16th of August.


Roarak Halfhide of the Halfhide pack understands his duty. He’s found his pack a home, now he just needs to keep them safe and fed. It doesn’t matter that Sam, one of the workers at Cup o’ Sugar, makes him want to shirk his duties and spend his time sipping coffee in one of the booths.

He doesn’t even like coffee.

But things don’t always go as planned, and when there is a threat to Sam, Roarak can’t pretend to be just another coffee-loving customer. He has to protect his mate.


Release Day | Nine Stones

It’s time!

Nine Stones is released today!

JMS-Books is turning nine and to celebrate there will be a lot of stories with the number nine in them. In Nine Stones, there are, not surprisingly, nine stones LOL.

Felix Lane is a nice guy, he really is, and yet his garden is filling up on gravestones. The strange thing about it is that he keeps burying the same cat over and over…or maybe he’s just insane, he’s not sure.

And Kirk, his hot neighbour, who never leaves his house is never at home when Felix needs his help.

With a drumming heart, he opened the door to the patio. The petunias had been lovely on the balcony.

He stepped closer, careful not to make any hasty motions in case the cat was alive and hurt. “Hi there, kitty cat.” Please be alive.

The cat didn’t move.

“Come on, sweetie.” He didn’t know what he wanted the cat to do, jump up and hiss at him? Yes, a hissing cat was better than a dead cat.

He brushed away some of the soil. The poor petunias needed more water, the dirt was too dry. Those striped legs lay unmoving on the sun-warmed flagstone. The beautiful tiger-like fur had grains of soil in it, and most of the leopard spots were hidden under wilting pink flowers.

Felix winced as he looked into the unseeing yellow eyes. Last time the eyes had been shut, but not now. Seconds slipped by as he sank down to sit cross-legged in the middle of the murder scene. The eyes, they reminded him of Kirk’s. It made his throat close up. He had to tell Kirk about this. Perhaps he could leave Gibson out of the story since he’d promised Lexi, but he had to come clean. Kirk might hate him for what he’d done, but he couldn’t go around hiding it.

He was a cat killer—again.

The sob clashed with the beauty of the bird song coming from the small forest outside his garden. How could this be? Felix had never killed an animal in his entire life—except for mosquitoes and gnats. He carried spiders outside instead of killing them if he found them in his house. Never in his life had he believed he’d become a murderer. It wasn’t in his DNA. (Though if you hop over to JMS-Books, there is a new release sale on 20%, ends at the 19th of July)

ninestoneshe only thing worse than having a hot neighbor you’re too intimidated to talk to is accidentally hitting his cat with your car.

Felix Lane was perfectly content to spend the rest of his days with Sunny, his canary life companion, in their quiet little corner of the suburbs. But then Kirk Shoo with his unusual eyes moved in across the street, and Felix’s carefully constructed life is starting to unravel.

When your every bad-boy fantasy lingers at the mailbox, stands too close and smells too damn good, what’s an under-appreciated administrative assistant to do? Besides sneak out the backdoor to go to work? But when Kirk’s cat runs out in front of Felix on his way home, he has no choice but to face the music and his dream man. Unless …

What starts as a tragic accident turns into something far more bizarre. And when Felix’s backyard begins to look like a pet cemetery, he has no choice but to come clean. That is, if he can manage to find his sexy neighbor at all.

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