Promo – RUSH by @CaraVescio






As the prima ballerina for a prominent San Francisco ballet company, Scarlet Rush is used to being on her toes- but after a failed kidnapping attempt, even her nimble feet aren’t enough to keep her out of reach of her rivals. Begrudgingly, she’s forced into the protective services of Alex Strong, a former private military contractor turned bodyguard. Scarlet isn’t thrilled to have Alex follow her every move, but as hidden dangers rise, she has no choice but to trust him.


Soon, Scarlet and Alex find themselves passionate partners in a dance all their own. Alex is captivated by Scarlet and knows he must protect her at all costs despite the pain of past demons still haunting him.



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Alex kept his gaze intently locked on her, watching the fluid movement of her silent twirls. He heard the soft thumps of her shoes and the sharp intake of her breathing as she glided over the dance floor. When she danced into the light, her expression held a soft sadness, and he could tell she was immersed in a secret world where no one could touch her.

From the point of her toes to the tips of her fingers, her grace held him captive, and he had to remind himself to blink. He understood now why Edward had chosen her. She commanded eyes to watch her with just her presence.

Scarlet danced around, holding her hands out to nothing, as if pleading to an invisible partner. Her leg rose in a controlled lift, and she extended her reach out. When her leg descended, she executed a turn, overstepped, and stumbled.

“Shit,” she muttered. She stopped and bent down to grab a towel on her bag. She wiped her forehead, then let her head lean back to stretch her neck.

Alex took another few steps into the room. “Is your back feeling better?”

Scarlet jumped, her hand flying to her mouth. She squinted at Alex, and recognition registered on her face. Scarlet smiled, putting the towel down to grab a water bottle.

“Yeah,” she said, taking a quick drink. “This is just a duo dance and it’s a little difficult when I don’t have my partner around, but he has a social life.”

Alex nodded. “So, even if you weren’t under curfew, you’d be here?”

“I like it here,” Scarlet said. “My grandmother always said dancing is the closest thing to magic.” She looked around and shrugged. “Guess I just get lost in my world. You don’t mind, do you? I won’t be much longer.”

“It’s fine,” Alex said. “I like watching you dance. It’s calming, even without music.”

Scarlet kept her eyes on him for a moment before she tilted her head in question. “Hey, do you want to do me a favor?”

Alex blinked. “Uh, depends.”

She chuckled, throwing the water bottle down. “I just need you to stand here as a base. I need to nail this sequence and the fouetté. Grab under my leg when I raise it to you. Then lift me from a floor position to mid, which is where your chin is, and right back down. I’ll guide you.”

Alex had no idea what she said, but he doubted it would be that complicated. He shrugged. “Okay.”

“Thanks.” She pointed at the floor. “Just stand here.”

Alex unbuttoned his blazer, removing it and his gun. He placed them on a chair against the wall and moved to the middle of the floor as directed.

Scarlet took a deep breath and her face relaxed. She fell into the same zone Alex had observed earlier, where it seemed nothing existed to her but dance. She stepped up to him, brushing her hand from his shoulder down to his palm. She grabbed hold and leaned in, kicking up behind her. He closed his eyes briefly as her movement made his pulse quicken.

Scarlet moved around him like an ethereal creature, her agile and controlled movements softly brushing against him. She ran her hands over his shoulders and his chest. He could hear her short breaths as her arms and legs executed their perfect action. He tensed up, attempting to push out the not-so professional thoughts that were slowly invading his mind.

Breathe, he commanded himself.

She stretched her body away from him, balancing perfectly on the tip of one foot, then turned back into him. Her back pressed into his chest and she brought her hands up toward his head, not quite brushing his face. He looked to the mirror across the room, studying the lines of her body.

He held his breath in again, as if it would help him feel less.

Scarlet spun around him one more time, ending in a series of turns before dropping down to his leg, and pushing away from him as if frightened.

He looked down at her in worry, but without missing a beat, she stretched away from him, arching her back.

Scarlet reached up a graceful hand to him. “Now pull me up to you.”

He took her hand, and pulled too hard. His strength lifted her easily off the floor and into his arms, which automatically closed around her as she collided with his chest.

She stopped and looked up at him in surprise. Both of their breathing elevated, despite Alex not having moved a muscle. He swallowed again and parted his lips, wanting to say something, but not knowing what.

Scarlet lifted her chin a little. Alex stared at her lips. The seemed to inch closer, full and waiting. He wanted to let the heated captivation of her dance push him over that edge, and the heavy tension of their embrace dared him to make that move. The sudden rush of desire surprised him.



  1. E. Vescio is a jack of all trades- and mastered at least one. Her first novel, Elegantly Wasted, touched on the demented and humorous side of a delightfully dysfunctional family. She’s a fan of writing and reading science fiction, urban fantasy, romantic suspense and contemporary fiction.
  2. E. is a Navy vet, professional photographer, web designer, gamer, cosplayer, and a sporadic burlesque performer. She’s from Phoenix, but lives in Las Vegas with her husband, John and three mutts. They’re expecting their first child in January of 2018.

She’s passionate about typography, Shakespeare, theology, the music of Paul Simon, and Loki as portrayed by Tom Hiddleston.






MY SOUL TO GIVE now available in Print! #paranormal #mystery #romance #paperback #print

Well, here I am – where my ultimate dream has come true: MY SOUL TO GIVE is available in print! I am so happy, I can barely contain myself at all 😀

It’s available on CreateSpace, and will be on Amazon as well pretty soon. I plan on buying a bunch, so if anyone wants a signed copy, let me know! You can find me on Facebook, Twitter – feel free to reach out! I don’t bite (I actually prefer being bitten, and not doing the biting myself, but that’s…er…another story 😉 )



Mid Week Tease – MY LIFE TO TAKE #MidWeekTease #MidWeek


Welcome to another mid week tease featuring my adult paranormal mystery romance! MY LIFE TO TAKE (Book 2 A DEMON’S LOVE) is currently being revised. I have to be careful with that I tease from this sequel since a lot of it is a potential spoiler lol

So, enjoy some Mekaisto and Shiriki bonding time! 😉


“And what do you mean by that?” When Shiriki didn’t answer, Mekaisto grabbed his neck, and slammed him against the wall. “You are hiding something. Ever since Celina lost her protection with the loss of her pendant all those years ago, you grew restless, as though time could not go by fast enough. Your research became an obsession instead of curiosity.” He leaned in inches from his face, gritting his teeth. “Why?”

“Time does not exist for us, yet it continues without waiting, and sometimes, we need to run to catch up.” He stared at the wall, his gaze unfocused as though he was seeing something that wasn’t there. “There is only so far research can go.”

Mekaisto took a step back, a growl vibrating through his chest. “You are being cryptic again.”

“And it is why you tolerate me. I keep you curious enough not to murder me,” he said with a wink.


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Apricots & Wolfsbane

by K.M. Pohlkamp

Available October 13, 2017

from Filles Vertes Publishing, LLC

Apricots and Wolfsbane Cover


Lavinia Maud craves the moment the last wisps of life leave her victim’s bodies—to behold the effects of her own poison creations. Believing confession erases the sin of murder, her morbid desires are in unity with faith, though she could never justify her skill to the magistrate she loves.

At the start of the 16th century in Tudor England, Lavinia’s marks grow from tavern drunks to nobility, but rising prestige brings increased risk. When the magistrate suspects her ruse, he pressures the priest into breaking her confessional seal, pitting Lavinia’s instincts as an assassin against the tenets of love and faith. She balances revenge with her struggle to develop a tasteless poison and avoid the wrath of her ruthless patron.

With her ideals in conflict, Lavinia must decide which will satisfy her heart: love, faith, or murder—but the betrayals are just beginning.

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Apricots and Wolfsbane Wax Stamp Graphic.png

Short Excerpt:

The violent display of convulsions lasted longer than I anticipated.

With my boots propped on the table, I remember watching beads of wax roll down the candle, marking time between my victim’s spasms. The brothel room was sparse, and the bed in the corner remained undisturbed. I had assumed the role of temptress that evening, but delivered a different climax.

I savored the fear on my victim’s face as much as my own unlaced mead. The sweetness of both danced on my palate. His repulsive gagging, however, I endured with patience.

My target focused upon me. His hand shook, reaching out in a misplaced plea for aid. Instead, I raised my goblet in a final toast while he turned purple. He glanced towards his spilled glass, and then studied my face with new understanding. With his last remnants of life, he pieced together what I had done. Those little moments made the act so delicious. And as his body collapsed upon the floor, I added one more success to my mental tally.

Murder just never got old.

The scratching of my chair sliding across the uneven floor broke the sudden, serene silence of the room. Driven by curiosity, my boots echoed with each step towards my victim.

The man’s eyes contained a lingering remnant of vibrancy despite the departure of the soul they once served. White froth percolated from his open mouth, overflowing the orifice to trail down his neck. It was not an honorable death, but my client had paid for certainty, not dignity.

Curious, I examined the large ruby on the victim’s pointer finger which matched the client’s description — an ornate setting with a coat of arms on one side of the gem and a mare’s head on the opposite. The worked piece of silver did not seem important enough to procure my service, but as a professional, I had not asked for justification, only payment. Material significance so often motivated patrons to fill my coffers. I recognized the inherent sin, but I never judged a client’s reason. I was not qualified to cast the first stone.

I did admire my victim. After all, he was a fellow criminal. I believed his talents as a thief must have been remarkable to pilfer the ring unnoticed from the finger of its owner. I often boasted of my own sleight of hand, but admittedly, I could not accomplish such a feat. Though in my defense, assassin clearly trumped thief.

After donning the black leather gloves concealed within the lacings of my bodice, I returned to business. I pushed the tipped chair out of the way and pulled on the ring, but my motion abruptly halted.

Caught at the knuckle, the gem did not budge.

I stared at his limp hand, dumbfounded, before a flame of focus burst through my body. How I craved and savored that rush. That high, and the feeling of power, motivated my ghastly craft all those years. Despite the stress, I never lost control of my emotions on the job. No matter the circumstance, I learned to remain calm and reason through any dilemma. That night was no different.

Grabbing the corpse’s wrist in one hand, I pulled on the metal band with all my strength. Still, the damn ring did not move, even with my heel braced against his chest. But through the sound of my grunting, the unexpected scratching of a nearby rat interrupted my efforts.

The rodent stood tall on his hind legs, observing the entertainment outside his hole in the floorboard. What else could I do except laugh in amusement? There was something poetic about the meager creature being the singular witness to the growing farce, while beyond the chamber door, an entire brothel remained unaware.

But their ignorance would not last for long.

By God’s nails, I was not going to degrade myself to play tug of war with a corpse, nor disgrace my spit to serve as lubrication. I retrieved the dagger from my boot and sawed through the bone of the blasted digit. In contrast, his purse strings cut with ease and the contained sum gave me confidence the proprietor would retain his promised discretion. Eager to depart, I cleansed the ring with the pure decanter of mead and left the contaminated gloves on the table.

I threw the finger to the rat.

KM Pohlkamp Photo

K.M. Pohlkamp is a blessed wife to the love of her life, a proud mother of two, and a Mission Control flight controller. Originally from Wisconsin, she now resides in Houston, Texas.

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Apricots and Wolfsbane Full View Promo

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Click HERE to check out the Trailer for K.M. Pohlkamp’s APRICOTS AND WOLFSBANE


COMING SOON: The Emotional Wound Thesaurus: A Writer’s Guide to Psychological Trauma by @AngelaAckerman & @beccapuglisi




I’m not gonna lie – when I heard about this newest edition, I bounced around on my computer chair for a good ten minutes. I’ve got all the emotion thesauruses – they are invaluable as a writer (and how did I go so many years without them?!), and are a worthy purchase (seriously – go buy them all).


The newest edition will be available October 25th, 2017 so mark your calendars! I look forward to adding to this wonderful series!


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FLAMEWALKER by @drwendyv


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I don’t know where to start for this review.

You know those stories you read that stay with you even after you’ve finished a few pages or a chapter… even before reaching the end, you know it’ll be forever in your mind as one of those books that’s just…well, perfect? Flamewalker is that kind of book.

Whatever category or genre you read, this book slams through your usual preferences, and you can’t help but love it. When writing is this good, you know you’ve found a brilliant and talented author, and that’s what Wendy Vogel is. Her writing will make you wish you had even half her skill in order to tell a story that flows from the pages with ease and envelopes you into another world. I’ve read many of the author’s stories, including a few manuscripts, and she has a way to make any story connectable in one form or the other. There’s a great balance of description and action, the dialogue is real… so, so real you can hear voices inside your head (I swear, I am insane, but not to that point lol).

So let me get to the review. I’ll be honest; I’m still not sure where to even begin. From the main characters, to the antagonist, to the side characters… all of them are unique and jump from the pages. We’ve all heard the expression before, but with this book, it actually happens. You could cut out all the dialogue tags, and you’d still know who’s talking because of the way they speak, the words they use, their inner thoughts, just everything about them. This was the first book I’ve read where I read a character I sympathized with slowly turning into the antagonist, and despite hating him at the end, I still had that twinge of… almost regret, in a way. A regret to know that what had started as honor and pain, twisted him to what he became. The author has a way to make characters very human, and that means showing our weaknesses as well. You’ll feel for the main character the whole time, and the author brings out the ‘chosen one’ into a unique light. There are no clichés when it comes to this story – everything takes a fresh twist.

I could go on and on about this book, but what I will say is this: pick up a copy, and read it. It’ll stay with you. Walk in Her Sight. Live in Her Wisdom.