Rebirth – Grim Reaper style…


In 2009 I wrote a book called Death, The Vamp and his Brother. I loved this book. Loved it. It is still one of my favourites. It won The Romance Studio’s 2009 Best Erotic Paranormal Novel. But it never really found an audience. Perhaps because readers didn’t know what to make of it? Maybe it was the title Death, The Vamp and his Brother. Let’s be serious,  it’s silly. It doesn’t–didn’t–portray the theme of the book at all, and the theme of the book is destiny and how it has its dark way with us.

So when Samhain Publishing asked me a few months ago if I wanted to re-release it a month before the second book in the series (Dark Embrace), I said yes. When they asked if I would be happy with a new cover, I said YES. When they aksed if I’d be okay with changing the title I laughed. Did I want to change the title? YES!!! When it was decided Dark Destiny was to be the new title, I got very excited.

And then I was sent this cover:


And my excitement went through the roof. Is that not one of the sexiest covers you’ve ever seen?

Today I received Dark Destiny‘s first review. And once again, my excitement shot through the roof.

“DARK DESTINY is a very intriguing, very hot book. You have sexy Death who prefers you call her Fred, a normal Aussie surfer/lifeguard, vampires, a Principatus and a really gross first horseman, who could ask for more? Oh yes did I mention the burning sheets or walls or wherever they landed and the unexpected realization that Death can actually fall in love. Lexxie Couper has come up with a fantastic world and I hope to visit it many more times.” – Fresh Fiction Reviews

(I know, Death, the Vamp and his Brother had been reviewed often but as of this point, Death, the Vamp and his Brother no longer exists *grin*)

It’s not often a book gets a second chance at life, but I guess it’s fitting with Dark Destiny…after all the vampire in Dark Destiny, Ven, was meant to die but he didn’t. He got a second chance… And as for Patrick, the hero…wow, you won’t BELIEVE the second life he gets.


The Apocalypse can’t stop desire like this. Can it?

Principatus, Book 1

Death exists for one purpose and one purpose only: to sever the life-threads of the living. She does her job with pride and an unwavering commitment. Nothing ruffles her. Until she encounters Patrick Watkins.

The Australian lifeguard pushes all her buttons—and makes her tailbone itch like crazy. And when her tailbone itches, it means trouble is brewing. Big trouble.

As far as Patrick’s concerned, everything Death tells him is a load of bull. But what if she’s right? How is he expected to save mankind from the worst fate of all—the Apocalypse? Especially when all he can think about is how quickly he’s falling in love with the most feared Horseman of them all…

Warning: This book contains enough heresy to shame the Devil, more scorching sex than one person can handle, Two sexy Australian brothers and lots of Australian colloquialism. A bloody lot of Australian colloquialism.


Fred noticed three things straight away. Patrick Watkins was looking directly at her, he was stark naked and he was semi-aroused.

By the Powers, he’s huge.

“Who the hell are you?”

His deep, angry growl made her jump. She stared at his face—his face, Fred, his face—her mouth dry. “You can see me!”

“Of course, I can see you. And I saw you at the beach today.” Sharp green eyes narrowed. “What the fuck did you do to my drowning victim?”

Fred clenched her jaw, giving the human before her a level look. “For your information, your drowning victim was a pedophile.”

A shimmer of disgust ignited in Patrick Watkins’ dark green eyes before he clenched his own jaw. “Mr. Peabody was alive until you touched him.”

Fred cocked her head to the side, trying like hell to ignore the fact that the man seemed to have forgotten he was naked—and still partially erect. Ignore it? How do you ignore something that impressive? “Yes, I must say, you did a very good job resurrecting him from his initial passing. But it was his time and no interference, no matter how skilled or stubborn, would have saved him.”

Patrick’s eyes widened. “Interference? His time?” Anger flared in his unwavering stare. “Who the fuck are you? The Grim Reaper?”

Fred inclined her head slightly. “Just call me Fred.”

“Well, Fred.” Patrick took a step toward her, the anger in his face growing dark. Menacing. “I’d saved him. I don’t care how bloody sexy you are, or who you think you are, he was alive until you touched him. What the hell did you do to him?”

Fred’s heart stopped for a split second, before pounding triple-time. Sexy? A grin stretched her lips and a wild flutter erupted between her thighs. He thought she was sexy.

He also thinks you’re a murderer.

She pulled a face, crossing her arms across her chest. Her nipples brushed against her forearms, sending a little jolt of damp electricity into the pit of her belly and she bit back a curse. How was it possible this one mortal male made her so horny? “I really can’t explain it all to you,” she snapped, irked by her body’s irrational response and Patrick Watkins’ not-so-irrational agitation. “Just know Peabody is in a much more deserving place now he’s gone.”

Patrick cocked an eyebrow. “So, what? You’re a vigilante?”

Fred ground her teeth. “As I’ve already said, I can’t explain it.”

“Try. Before I call the cops.”

Fred couldn’t help herself. She burst out laughing. “The cops?”

Black anger flashed across Patrick’s face. “Look, love, you’ve got exactly twenty seconds to give me an answer, or I’ll knock you on your arse, tie you to the bed and let the authorities deal with you when they get here.”

A hot, wet wave of sinful pleasure rolled through Fred at the idea of Patrick Watkins tying her to the bed. Damn. She’d never gone down that path of sexual gratification before, but the Australian lifeguard made her body fantasize about all sorts of things it hadn’t before. All of them very, very wicked. “Patrick Watkins,” she said, unable to stop her gaze roaming over his naked body. “I would like nothing more than to see you try.”

Another wave of fury—and something else far more primitive—charged his expression. “Okay. If that’s the way it’s going to be.”

He moved. Much quicker than Fred expected. Much quicker than any human should. One moment he stood glaring at her from beside his bedroom door, the next he was slamming her against the wall, his fingers locked around her wrists, his hips rammed into hers.

Immediate and absolute pleasure tore through her. Dark, intoxicating, submissive pleasure. Her sex constricted, her breath caught in her throat. She’d never been handled so. Even her Roman had treated her with kid gloves, like he’d been too scared of her to truly show how much she’d aroused him. Patrick Watkins however, knew no reason to be scared of her. And it made her sex flood with cream.

By the Powers, she wanted to fuck him and be fucked by him.

The licentious thought whipped through her head and, before she knew what was going on, her jeans, boots and t-shirt vanished. Leaving her just as naked as the man pressing her against the wall with his hard body.

He froze, his fingers digging into her wrists, his cock grounding against her belly. “What. The fuck. Is going on?”


You can buy Dark Destiny from Samhain, Amazon, Barnes and Noble and lots of other ebook resellers

On the Diva Couch with S.E. Gilchrist


In the hot seat today is Aussie author S.E. Gilchrist. Let’s not muck around, we’ll dive straight into the tough questions…

RC: Name your fantasy menage combination

SE: Chris Hemsworth, Johnny Depp, Vin Diesel

RC: What five items would you take if you had to get out of your house in 5 mins or less

SE: My kids, my dogs, my usb sticks, my photos & my glasses (so I could see where the hell I’m going)

RC: Describe your writing in 3 words

SE: Dramatic, exciting and sexy

RC: If you won the lottery, what would be the first thing you’d buy for yourself?

SE: A new car – trust me, the only thing holding this one together is the crappy paint job.

RC: Imagine you had a time machine—oh let’s just call it a Tardis. What time period would you travel to and why?

SE: I’d travel into the future with the hope we would have conquered space travel to other galaxies.

RC: Favorite comic book superhero

SE: The Phantom

RC: If you could kiss any fictional hero from history, who would it be?

SE: Darcy

RC: Do you prefer a hairy or smooth chest?

SE: Smooth and oiled ????

RC: Best writing advice ever received

SE: Keep writing and try to write every day.


A big thanks to SE for sitting down with the Divas today.

You can find out all about her and her books over on her website http://www.segilchrist.com/

BB Lies FINAL #1(c) Chosen by SUZ - 5-2-13



After trudging in the footsteps of the Fomorian army, Aileen longs to have a home of her own far from the horrors of war. She will do anything to achieve her goal. Even lie to the kin and people of her newly deceased husband.  But lies are nothing, compared with drugging a pixie king and stealing his memory … and his seed.



Ioducas, king of the river pixies, reined in his white stallion and rested his hands on the pommel of his ornate saddle. Golden warmth from the late Beltane sun bathed the cultivated fields of wheat, rye and oats that spread in rich orderly rows over the sloping land. The crops stretched into the distance, ending at the wide ditch that surrounded the hill fort, Tranelleon. Overhead, swallows dipped and soared into the cloudless, blue sky with a graceful flurry of wings.

A whistle escaped his lips while Ioducus stared with considerable astonishment at the changes wrought over the past full turns of seasons.

“I see the passing of the stewardship into the control of another since the death of young Robat of Tranellean has proved to be a blessing for the people and the lands. Clear before us stands evidence of hard work and prosperity,” he said to his lieutenant who had kneed his horse forward until the charges stood side by side, tails swishing. Ioducus swept a hand out, the jewelled rings adorning his fingers flashed, red, green, blue and dazzling white in the mid afternoon sun’s rays.

Lotic, who had been his right-hand man ever since Ioducus could remember, grunted and tugged on his braided, brown beard in a thoughtful manner. He said, “Do you know who holds office in the hall?”

“Nay, but I assume Robat’s kinsman would be the man.” Ioducas shared a look with his second in command. “It is possible a pixie would not be given a grand reception. Especially for one such as I….one of the main instigators of the carnage that caused Plover’s Fields to run red with spilled blood of both our people and mortal men.”

“A while ago now,” rumbled Lotic in his deep voice.

“Aye, but pain takes no account of the passing of the seasons.”

“Then we had best be on our guard. I’d be happier if you would allow me to split our men into two squads. Leave a party beyond the ditch in case our reception is a wee bit hostile.”

Ioducas slid a finger over his moustache and grinned. “Tsk, tsk, Lotic, I am sure once we have speech, the new steward will see reason.”

Lotic hunched his shoulders beneath the leather straps that bound his breast plate and muttered, “Aye, and one day, your honeyed tongue will no more sweeten your speech and then, where will we be?”

Ioducas laughed. “Always with the warning, Lotic. My charm has yet to fail.”

His steed tossed its head as if in agreement and snorted setting the silver bells woven into its braided mane tinkling with merry song. Ioducas raised his hand again, and urged his mount forward, his contingent of pixie horsemen following close on his horse’s hooves. Lotic, muttering dire predictions, rode, as ever, at his side.

Aye, his charm was legendary especially where the wenches were concerned, but for all the many maids who flung themselves at his feet, none saw nor truly loved, the man beneath the crown. Aye, he flirted and was ever courteous to everyone but only Lotic knew how few Ioducus actually took to his bed. The saddle creaked when he shifted his weight pushing his booted feet forward in the stirrups. His mouth turned down.

Plague take this malady!

If he were not tormented by fragments of what he at first had thought to be merely dreams; dreams which had woken him sweating and needy in the cold reaches of the night, he would not have lengthened this expedition into a full season’s odyssey. His teeth ground together and a slash of sharp pain sliced into his temple.

Nay, he was certain it was no fantasy that haunted him. No spell either. For there were none living that could weave such a spell over the king of the river pixies. Not now.

Nay, it must be memories. But of whom?

With effortless ease Ioducas sent a silent message to his mount and the animal slowed its pace to a gentle amble, although it shook its head and chaffed at the bit, eager to reach a stable with bountiful oats and hay. He ignored his friend’s sharp glance and smoothed a hand down the horse’s neck and it quietened. His stallion wasn’t the only one eager to reach journey’s end.

Ioducas glared at the straight, rock paved road; a road that only a few years ago resembled a muddy, boggy track. He had re-traced every path, every road, re-visited every village he had ever passed through and sought out every wench in an attempt to solve the puzzle. All to no avail no matter how pretty the females or how willing they were to lay with him. Yet he had resisted all, for none had fitted the shadowy figure that flittered in and out of his mind.

And perhaps it was possible, that somewhere he would find the one who could lift the curse inflicted on him at birth by his father’s bitter ex-lover. Hence his easy acquiescence to his daughter, Teelah’s, urgent request to travel to Tranelleon Fort and ensure the safety of her husband’s sister. A matter Domhnall would have fulfilled himself, if not concerned with the forth-coming birth of their second child.

Lotic would no doubt relish spouting forth with more of the warnings and suspicions of foul play he had moaned constantly about, since their boats had grounded on the mortal isle should Ioducus speak of his troubled dreams. Hence he had kept his own counsel.

He would find the cause, deliver any punishment he deemed fit for this troublesome affliction and return to his island home.


Purchase Bound By Lies from –

Smashwords : http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/285925

Amazon : http://www.amazon.com/Bound-Lies-Erotic-Fantasy-ebook/dp/B00BG9F338/


Top Five things I learned at ARRC 2013


  1. You can team a pair of pink heels with an orange dress, but no matter what colour the shoes, eventually you’ll have to take them off.Divas at ARRC13
  2. It’s okay to trawl the internet for pictures on half naked men in the name of romance research. Kristan Higgins said so (which justifies my man pics pinterest board nicely, thank you Kristan)
  3. Erotic romance readers and writers are the most awesome people around. Not everyone is willing to volunteer to do the most awkward and embarrassing things all in the name of fun (thank you to the lovely lady whose Sally-in-the-sandwich-shop demonstration really added spice to our erotica panel on Sunday)
  4. It’s all right to struggle every time you write a book. It’s normal. Painful and frustrating, but normal.
  5. Getting together with other romance writers, especially my fellow divas, never gets old. And we never have enough time together before planes, trains and automobiles force us apart again.

Until next time, let’s keep writing girls!



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