Nina candybar plus#

We weren’t great, but we were young, enthusiastic, and wore short skirts. A friend and I supported ourselves by singing folk songs in Irish pubs. I taught second grade for several years then spent two years in Dublin, Ireland. The only things I managed to write during those years were research papers. I graduated from Rutgers University with a degree in English Literature and a determination to avoid books that induced eye crossing or had tragic endings. Yes, I admit it, I was a literary snob.īut there’s just so much “real” literature one person can take. If it didn’t make my eyes cross then it wasn’t worth reading. I plowed through James Joyce’s Ulysses and Tolstoy’s War and Peace. I didn’t care because I’d discovered “real” literature.

Nina candybar plus#

Three hundred-dollar shortages plus hysterical tears equaled instant move to gift-wrap. My short stint in the accounting department taught me a lot about math. I worked at a department store during college.

Did I actually write anything? No, but I did read all of Agatha Christie’s mysteries. As an intrepid foreign correspondent, I’d stalk the mean streets of the world. I was an only child so I relied on my imagination to supply the excitement in my life.īy high school, I’d decided to trade in my lariat for a trench coat. Oh, and I read every Walter Farley horse novel. Okay, so I spent a lot of time dreaming I was a cowgirl with a trusty black stallion. What did I do during those lazy summer days of childhood when I could’ve been honing my writing skills? Nothing. Strange things are the norm at the Woo Woo Inn. Too bad that love can't erase the dangers surrounding them.Ī happily ever after doesn't seem likely for Reinn and Kisa, but not to worry. Kisa finally finds a male stronger than she is and admits that the enemy has become her love. When Reinn meets Kisa, he realizes that his sexy werecat is worth dying for.

There IS no male stronger than Kisa.īut minds were meant to be changed. Werecat law says that she can't mate with any male weaker than herself. She's a virgin, someone is stalking her with the intent to keep her in cat form forever, she's a virgin, the deadly Guardian of the Blood is out to murder her sister's fiancé, and she's a virgin. Who'd be stupid enough to die for a deceitful, whisker-twitching shifter? So he's stuck at the Woo Woo Inn, skulking undercover while he looks for the right moment to off the clueless Mackenzie about to marry a sneaky, manipulating werecat. He's nothing but a glorified Weedwacker for the clan. He's supposed to run around lopping off the head of any Mackenzie dumb enough to mate with someone not on the council's approved list. The council, in its infinite stupidity, has made Reinn Mackenzie the Guardian of the Blood for his vampire clan. He'd lived a thousand years for this? It's enough to make a vampire want to rush outside to soak up some rays, order garlic mashed potatoes, or fall on a wooden stake.