WELCOME KARINA HALLE
KARINA HALE
The daughter of a Norwegian Viking and a Finnish Moomin, Karina Halle grew up in Vancouver, Canada with trolls and eternal darkness on the brain. This soon turned into a love of all things that go bump in the night and a rather sadistic appreciation for freaking people out.
Karina holds a screenwriting degree from Vancouver Film School and a Bachelor of Journalism from TRU. Her travel writing, music reviews/interviews and photography have appeared in publications such as Consequence of Sound, Mxdwn and GoNomad Travel Guides. She currently splits her time between her apartment in downtown Vancouver and her sailboat, where a book and a bottle of wine are always at hand. She is hard at work on her next novel.
Connect with Karina at these sites:
FUN FACTS
Karina was an background actor on such film and TV shows as Fringe, Psych, Once Upon a Time, and Twlight: Breaking Dawn
She has traveled the world solo and used to write a travel blog. As a result, her passport has been lost numerous times.
Karina met her fiance when she was casting a book trailer for the third book of her Experiment in Terror series. He answered the Craiglist ad for the character of Dex and it was love at first.
Karina was on Inside Edition because of David Copperfield (he made her grab his booty).
Karina won a Jessica Simpson look-alike contest where I got to meet her and go on stage with her!
The main character in Sins & Needles is named Ellie, who is named after Karina’s old dog, who was named after the character Ellie Satler in Jurassic Park, one of her favorite books and movies.
The daughter of a grifting team, Ellie spent her childhood being used as a pawn in her parents’ latest scam. Now she’s much older, wiser and ready to give her con artist life a rest. But returning to the dry desert town of Palm Valley, California means one more temptation than she bargained for – Camden McQueen. Once known as the high school weirdo, Camden is bigger and badder than the boy he used to be and a talented tattoo artist with his own thriving business. Ellie’s counting on Camden still being in love with her but what she’s not counting on is how easily unrequited love can turn into obsession over time. When Camden discovers Ellie’s plan to con him, he makes her a deal she doesn’t dare refuse, but her freedom comes with a price and it’s one that takes both Ellie and Camden down a dangerous road.Publisher: Forever Yours Digital Original
ISBN-13: 9781455552184
$2.99; June 4, 2013
ON EVERY STREET: When young con artist Ellie Watt decides to call herself Eden White and go after the drug lord who ruined her as a child, she 
never expects to fall for one of his henchmen. But Javier Bernal is no ordinary man. Subtly dangerous and overwhelmingly seductive, Eden finds herself passionately in love with Javier, the very person she’s set-up to betray.
With her body and heart in a heated battle against her deep need for revenge, no one will walk away from this con a winner.
Publisher: Forever Yours Digital Original
Novella
ISBN-13: 9781455552207
$0.99; June 4, 2013
READ AN EXCERPT
His nose nudged the side of mine and maybe because I’d been thinking about it ever since Safeway, or maybe because I was buying some time, I leaned in and kissed him. This wasn’t the tender kiss from earlier. I had no wine bottles held above my head. This kiss was soft for a moment, then hurried. His lips sucked gently on mine, his tongue ravishing my mouth like he couldn’t stop himself. I was suddenly insatiable, each kiss reaching down into my core, making me want all of him, every part. A million thoughts flew through my head and then there was nothing at all. There wasn’t even Camden and Ellie. There was just this hot, primal, crucial need for each other.
Before I could stop him, or at least pretend to stop him, he was pushing me back until I was falling onto the grass. I reluctantly slid my knees out to the side, my legs coming into full view. My scars visible in the dark. He didn’t notice, didn’t care. He kept kissing me passionately, so hot, so sweet, as one of his hands disappeared into the back of my hair, cupping my head. He laid me on the ground, the hard grass tickling the sides of my ears, and that was the last time he was gentle.
He straddled me and pulled my tank top over my head and tossed it aside. Then he leaned back and ripped off his own shirt. As if I wasn’t breathing hard enough already, squirming beneath his form, he looked better than I could have imagined. Here was the new Camden McQueen, shirtless, a tower of defined muscle and gorgeous, darkly dangerous tattoos.
There was a phoenix rising from the ashes along the swoop of muscle of his hipbones, a tiger/dragon hybrid flying up the side of his stomach, scripture peeking out of the top of his boxers. I’d seen only glimpses of them before, and now they glowed before me, lit by the hundreds of warm lights in his garden. He was like a living, breathing painting on an all-male canvas.
I couldn’t gawk at him for long. He quickly took off his shorts, and I decided to help him out by removing my bra. I was glad I took the extra effort to wear my matching yellow and lace number. By the time I was finished unhooking it and throwing it across the grass, our clothes were scattered everywhere and his extremely erect penis was on full display.
I could only smile in response, stunned at the beauty of it, turned on as fuck at the idea of him thrusting it in me. And a tiny bit scared, to be honest, because it had been some time since I was with a man and it had been, well never, since I was with a man built like him. Although I had never been a fan of blow jobs except when it had come to Javier, my first instinct was to lay my lips around his tip and suck him slowly.
But that would have to wait. He leaned forward on me, elbows on each side of my shoulders, his body so wonderfully heavy on mine. His teeth went for my neck, nibbling softly from ear to shoulder while he slipped one of his hands slowly down my side and over my flat stomach until he was teasing the area underneath my thong. Then his fingers brushed against my pubic hair and stopped just as it was getting good. I squirmed, the pressure in my clit building to uncomfortable heights, wanting his hand to go down further. I felt him smile against my lips, as if he were deliberately torturing me, then finally he gave in and gave me what I wanted. I was slick as oil and it didn’t take long at all before his fingers circled my clit enough times and I came.
I cried out, the orgasm catching me by surprise. If I were a man, I would have hung my head in shame. That took one minute, if that. But I didn’t fucking care. I let the waves rock through me, my hand clutched in his hair, until I came to a soft landing.
I cleared my throat and spoke into his kiss. “Sorry, it’s been a while.”
“You should expect to hear the same thing from me in about five minutes,” he murmured.
“Five minutes, huh?”
“I’ll make it the best five minutes of your life.”
I bit his lip, hard, then released him and looked into those intense blues.
“Clock’s ticking.”
He grinned, dimples and all, then grabbed me by the sides of my arms and flipped me over on my stomach. I tried to turn over but he just pushed my shoulder down into the grass. I felt him go for my underwear, trying to roll it off my ample ass. Then I heard him give up.
It sounded just like a rip.
“That was my only matching pair to the bra!” I cried out, voice mercifully muffled by the grass.
“I’ll tattoo you some new ones,” he answered roughly. I felt his fingers slide down the crack of my rear, and before I could protest or freak out he slipped his hand underneath my pelvis and pulled me up until my ass was in the air.
I could hear him let out a long breath and could feel his eyes burning a hole through my skin. I was starting to feel uncomfortable, afraid that he’d seen the scars on my leg and was becoming turned off, but all my fears were banished when he brought his palm down across my ass. It stung to high heaven.
Holy shit, did Camden just spank me?
There was another hard slap on my other cheek and before I could start worrying whether I was getting caught up in some wannabe BDSM relationship, I felt his hot, wet lips kiss both of the slap marks. I closed my eyes to the pleasure and let out a groan when his fingers slipped inside me. It didn’t matter if I just came, I was more than ready to go again.
I felt his presence move off of me and heard the rustle of something plastic. Seconds later there was the telltale sound of a condom wrapper tearing. You can almost hear the concentration when a man is trying to put one of those on.
With one hand holding me at the small of my waist, he entered himself slowly. With him taking me from behind, I couldn’t see what he was doing, I could only feel. And I could feel everything. Pain, mostly. At first. Pain that slowly melted into a wet warmth that seemed to saturate every part of me from my stomach to my nipples. I felt uninhibited, and considering I lived my life by my own rules, I felt strangely free. With each thrust, Camden drove himself deeper. He rocked me against the ground in a rhythm that felt as intuitive as it was pleasurable. He filled me up, the thickness building inside while my own pressure built on the outside. He tightened his grip around my waist, making me feel irresistibly petite and vulnerable and pounded me harder, faster.
His breathing became heavier, more laborious, and the occasional moan came out of him that made my urge to come triple. He went faster, harder and just when it sounded like he might lose it, I felt his fingers at my clit, working me into a frenzy with him. We came at the same time, groaning loudly, panting quietly, trying to control the volume. But, hell, if a neighbor were to stick their head out their window and see a tattooed god ramming a chick in the neighbor’s backyard all lit by romantic lights, they’d probably watch. I’d watch too.
When the shockwaves slowed their roll through me and my mind and body were coming back to earth, sorting through the delicious high of endorphins, I collapsed on my elbows, too blissed out to move. The grass could eat me alive and I wouldn’t care.
Camden lay beside me, his head propped up by his hand, facing me. Still totally nude, breathing hard but with a smile that matched mine. Satisfied.
THANKS TO JULIE AT FOREVER/GCP,
I HAVE ONE (1) SET, BOTH BOOKS, TO GIVE AWAY.
OPEN TO U.S. RESIDENTS
**THIS IS AN EBOOK GIVEAWAY**
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When Iola Anne Poole, an old-timer on Hatteras Island, passes away in her bed at ninety-one, the struggling young mother in her rental cottage,
Tandi Jo Reese, finds herself charged with the task of cleaning out Iola’s rambling Victorian house.Running from a messy, dangerous past, Tandi never expects to find more than a temporary hiding place within Iola’s walls, but everything changes with the discovery of eighty-one carefully decorated prayer boxes, one for each year, spanning from Iola’s youth to her last days. Hidden in the boxes is the story of a lifetime, written on random bits of paper–the hopes and wishes, fears and thoughts of an unassuming but complex woman passing through the seasons of an extraordinary, unsung life filled with journeys of faith, observations on love, and one final lesson that could change everything for Tandi.
What if you have a half a second to stop the extinction of the human race? What if that pivotal day to save humanity depends on you saving your own life? Catherine’s life and humanity’s continued existence 
depend on her ability and willingness to believe in an altered, future timeline with a cololny of Earth inhabitants. It couldn’t come at a worse time. Catherine’s father dies unexpectedly. The pressure of her research and advocacy work adds dead weight to her life’s precarious tipping points. Catherine’s losing battles includes sleep deprivation. Sleep eludes her, because when it does come, she finds herself repeatedly dreaming about standing on the same high plateau with her greyhound dog, Addy, surrounded by plants and animals and insects, and then poof! The living landscape transforms into ash.
Danny Ellis was a survivor, strong and resilient. A successful singer/songwriter, he was proud of the way he’d ‘handled’ his painful past: the grinding poverty of the 1950s Dublin slums, and the brutality of the orphanage, the notorious Artane Industrial School where he was left. He’d safely buried it. Or so he thought.
Did you know that ants teach, earthworms make decisions, rats love to be tickled, and chimps grieve? Did you know that some dogs have thousand-word vocabularies and that birds practice songs in their sleep? That crows improvise tools, blue jays plan ahead, and moths remember living as caterpillars?
animals, from ants to elephants to wolves, and from sharp-shooting archerfish to pods of dolphins that rumble like rival street gangs. Morell probes the moral and ethical dilemmas of recognizing that even “lesser animals” have cognitive abilities such as memory, feelings, personality, and self-awareness–traits that many in the twentieth century felt were unique to human beings.
