Thursday, August 6, 2020


I can't remember a time in my life when I didn't like to read. Books πŸ“š and Music 🎹🎺 have been constant companions in my life since I was in the crib and before I knew how to read the words on a page. I created stories before I even knew what that meant. 😊

Besides my family, my three favorite things are Music 🎸🎡, Reading πŸ“™ and Writing πŸ“” . I am never without music. I have it on in the car, on at work, on at home when I'm cleaning or reading emails. I listen to my iPod while I'm grocery shopping. Most of the shows I watch on television have to do with music. I have been an avid, avid watcher of So You Think You Can Dance for many, many years. I remind people every July about National Dance Day! πŸ’ƒ Now, I'm also into World of Dance. I love J-Lo, Ne-Yo, and ooh la la, Derek Hough. I went to see his show several months ago. Damn, I love a guy in tight pants who knows how to dance. 😍 My new favorite show right now is Songland. 🎀🎷🎢 Obviously, because I love music so much I appreciate the show. But my daughter is also a musician, singer/songwriter so I understand the struggle to get the right lyrics and great melody.

I am happy to announce that on September 10th, I will be celebrating the 10-year anniversary for my debut novel, "Highland Stone." πŸ“˜πŸŽ‰πŸŽ† I am re-releasing "Highland Stone" with a new cover, and extra content. 

Stay tuned for more as the release date gets closer.  I will also be doing a cover reveal.

"There is more treasure in books than in all the pirate's loot on Treasure Island."
~~Walt Disney

"Books are a uniquely portable magic."
~~Stephen King

#books #reading #writing #music

Sunday, August 2, 2020




I am excited to announce that on September 1st, I will be launching a new website. I have spent a lot of time designing it, and I hope you will check it out when it goes live.

September 10th will be the 10-year anniversary for the release of "Highland Stone." I am happy to say that I will be re-releasing the book on September 10th with a new cover, and some additional content.

Thank you to all the fans that have made "Highland Stone" such a fan favorite. Stay tuned because I have more exciting announcements coming.

Happy Reading!!!!!!!


Tuesday, May 7, 2019

"Not really?" #MFRWhooks

DANGEROUS HEAT ‘Men of Fire’ Trilogy 

By Sloan McBride


“You are mine.” The masked attacker’s alcohol-laden breath caressed her upturned cheek while one hand roughly grabbed at her breasts.

The attacker lifted her off her feet and threw her to the ground. Pain sliced a wedge in her head as it bounced off the grassy lawn. The assailant’s weight held her down, while dry lips smashed against her neck.

Her emotions overrode everything else. Anger and fear warred for dominance. She thrust a knee toward the asshole’s groin, but missed the mark. His fingers tightened on her arms, bruising the tender flesh. The bottom of her shirt rode high, and the slime skimmed a hand along her bare ribcage. It took every ounce of control she possessed not to heave in revulsion.

Festival music blared from giant speakers, drowning out Whitney’s hoarse cries for help. Fear strangled her, cutting off much-needed oxygen. Her strength waned, but she had to hold on. Losing would mean the unthinkable. She balled her right hand and punched the guy upside the head. He fell partially to the side then straightened, closing his hand around her fist. “I like it when you fight.” The attacker pressed her arm and hand to the ground and lowered to do who knew what next.

Unexpectedly, the assailant’s weight lifted.

She rolled to her side, and tried to focus on the silhouetted form who tackled the bastard, landing a right hook to his jaw. The attacker kicked her savior, knocking him across the lawn, got up and ran away.

“Jesus. Are you okay?” Murphy limped over, holding his stomach, and knelt next to her.

Whitney curled into a fetal position, the sound of her brother’s voice a blessing, and his gentle touch a welcome relief. “Not really. This is officially the worst day of my life.”

Tuesday, April 30, 2019

Dashing Rogue #MFRWhooks

The Treasure (Time Walker Series Book 2)  
by Sloan McBride 

‘A Pirate’s Life for Me,’ that is Celeste’s plan. Revenge drives her to be daring. Attacks by smoke demons, and the appearance of a swashbuckling rogue—a handsome rogue with magical powers—detracts her from the mission and reveals frightening truths about her family.

Orion is a time walker—a protector of the human race—and warrior against the Underworld King and his minions. The shadowy creatures seek the young woman who has the blood of the gods running through her veins. Orion senses something mysterious—and wrong—in Celeste’s blood.

Time Walker law dictates no interaction with humans, but Orion can’t stay away. Celeste has the uncanny ability to draw demons and time walkers, alike. To protect her, Orion must keep her hidden from the Underworld and his own people. Should the gods discover her secret, they will destroy her, and he won’t let that happen.


A shadow moved in the corner of her eye then a dagger pressed against her throat piercing the skin. A trickle of warm blood dripped down her neck. The assailant looked like a cloud of peat smoke bundled into a person. Its black eyes had no substance.

Bedtime stories her papa used to tell her about wicked magickal creatures that snuck up on children at night played through her head. “What are you?” she said.

A crackling rumble came from him as he raised the other hand which held some sort of small pick. No doubt he meant to stab her with it. Celeste kicked out, catching him off guard. She dropped to the ground grabbing for the dagger in her boot.

Before she could grasp the handle, a tall, striking man engaged the blackness. With the grace of a sword master, he twirled and sliced off the assailant’s arm then his head. The bedeviled creature disappeared. Her brain barely pieced together what had happened, certain her tired eyes were playing tricks. Mere seconds expired until she stared into the frowning countenance and turbulent, brandy-colored eyes of the stranger. He raised two fingers to her temple and pressed.


The door creaked open. “Pleased to see you home safely.” Rafael greeted her with a kiss on the back of the trembling hand and a wink.

“‘Tis good to be home.” Native French spilled from her mouth as the door closed.

“I took the liberty of setting up the bath in front of the fireplace upon news of the fleet’s arrival.”

She sighed. “A bath sounds lovely.”

“You are home,” Beatrice said excitedly and crushed her in a hug. Her round face flushed from the dash down the hallway.

“I have missed you both.” Celeste pulled the smelly shirt away from her body. “Please soak these distasteful clothes in lye.” Unfortunately, burning them was not an option.

Celeste smiled as she eased her aching body into the steaming water, cursing the man responsible for her being on this blasted island. She longed for the small French town where she’d been born, the life she’d once had. To see her mother smile at the knotted, uneven stitches Celeste had sewn into a cloth while attempting to master proper technique.

The worst part of being aboard ship—the filth. Freshwater ran out quickly, leaving no clean water to drink or wash, sometimes for weeks. The pirate crews plied themselves with rum often enough. She hoped it wouldn’t be much longer before she fulfilled her vow and ended this quest.

“Blackbeard,” she spat. The bastard trusted no one, so she’d been unable to accomplish her goal. She leaned her head against the side of the tub and sighed.

Her mother used to scold her for worrying too much. “A lady should not have worry lines,” her mother would say.

Tears filled her eyes. It had only been a few months since she’d lost her mother and started on this vengeful trek.

Of course, she had worried. The stipend from her father ceased, and her mother’s weakened condition worsened. The duty to find ways to bring in food and money fell on her young shoulders. Her stomach grumbled as if the memories brought the hunger she’d battled, on days when food and money were scarce. Other women who were alone with no money sold their bodies. She chose to be a thief instead. She closed her eyes and let the warmth seep into her bones, and tight muscles, loosening her body. Drifting in the place between sleep and awake, she had no worries.

A bright light flared behind her eyelids. Her mind flashed to the dock in the North Carolina port—a steel tip at her throat, a scream lodged beneath the fear—a dashing rogue.

Tuesday, April 23, 2019

Distance Between Them #MFRWhooks

Dangerous Heat: Men of Fire Trilogy, Book 1 

by Sloan McBride 

The onset of fire season should be the hottest thing about interviewing smoke jumpers for Whitney Storm - until she sees Tom MacKenzie. He set her heart aflame 10 years ago, then disappeared. As an empath who doesn't need emotional turmoil, this six-foot-tall dark and dangerous memory has no place in her life.

As a smoke jumper, Tom's job keeps him face-to-face with danger, and he thought he knew how to handle heat. But the uncontrolled burn whenever he's near Whitney is hotter than he remembers. He's ready to face the past and make amends. She's made it clear she wants nothing to do with him.

A life-threatening problem flares when a killer's greedy obsession threatens everything. Can Tom and Whitney learn to trust each other again and protect all that they hold dear, or will their world turn to ashes around them? 


In a gruff voice he said, “Are you going home? I would be happy to escort you.”

Another wave of unease assaulted her going straight to her stomach. She managed a small smile and shook her head. “Actually, I’m going to stick around and eat. I’m starving.”

“I’ll walk you that way then.” He stayed close while she got a plate of food and her beer. A rowdy group of teenagers caught his attention so Bell excused himself to handle it, throwing his beer can in the trash as he went by.

Whitney was hopelessly attempting to wipe the last of the sticky barbeque sauce off her fingers with a thin paper napkin when bright-eyed, liquored-up Terry Smith ambled over in a weaving pattern.

Terry had been the all-around home town football hero in high school. His sandy blond hair, brilliant white smile, and well-toned body had looked awesome in those tight football pants. They’d dated for a short while, but it hadn’t lasted.

Now, his once gorgeous hair had thinned, his athletic body had grown saggy, and he sported a beer belly. The word around town was his wife had filed for divorce.

“What about it, Whitney, you ready for a dance?” He sidled up close. “I’ll ask the band to make it a slow one.”

Don’t light a match around him.

She pressed a hand to his chest and gently pushed to put distance between them. The festival brought out the partiers, and it smelled as though he’d been at it for a while. He grabbed her hand and dragged her onto the make-shift dance floor so quickly she didn’t have time to say no.

Tuesday, April 16, 2019

Not if I'm lucky #MFRWHooks

Dangerous Heat (Men of Fire Trilogy Book 1)
by Sloan McBride 

The onset of fire season should be the hottest thing about interviewing smokejumpers for Whitney Storm—until she sees Tom MacKenzie. The firefighter set her heart aflame ten years ago, then disappeared. As an emapth who doesn’t need emotional turmoil, this six-foot tall dark and dangerous memory has no place in her life.

As a smokejumper, Tom’s job keeps him face to face with danger and he thought he knew how to handle heat. But the uncontrolled burn whenever he’s near Whitney is hotter than he remembers. He’s ready to face the past and make amends. She’s made it clear she wants nothing to do with him.

A life-threatening problem flares when a killer’s greedy obsession threatens everything. Can Tom and Whitney learn to trust each other again and protect all that they hold dear, or will their world turn to ashes around them?

~A page turning, couldn't put it down paranormal romantic suspense by author Sloan McBride~
~Ten years ago, Whitney Storm said yes to Tom MacKenzie in more ways than one.~ 


“After all, there is an election coming up, and I’ll want to make sure you cast a friendly vote for the mayor.”
She shifted slightly. “Speaking of which, I called to make an appointment with the mayor, and his office never got back to me.”
“I can’t understand why they’d be avoiding an interview. I’ll make it happen for you.”
Whitney glanced at his sharp profile in the twilight. His straight nose, square jaw, and short brown hair looked sinister in contrast to those same features in daylight.
“I’ll want to see the list of questions you intend to ask.”
“So you can prepare the appropriate responses.”
“It’s customary practice to review questions prior to an interview.”
She sighed. “Fine. Where do you want them sent?”
Dylan pulled out a business card. “You can email them to my office.”
Whitney took the card, doing her best not to touch the man, and put it in her daybook.
A couple of miles later they passed the welcome sign and pulled onto Oak Valley’s main street. Townsfolk were gathering in the square around a bonfire to start off the Elk Run Festival. The locals used the annual event to bid farewell to summer and greet the early fall. Heavenly smells of barbeque chicken, grilled corn on the cob, and hot apple cobbler floated through the open window, making her empty stomach growl. She could use a beer too. First, she needed to call her mom and let her know of the unfortunate mishaps. The Storm family internal communication network began transmitting the minute the tire blew and she crashed into the ditch. Her mother, the commander and chief of the family empaths, would be expecting a report.
Gotta love genetics.
Not being able to reach Whitney by phone would have sent her mother into worry mode. The trip had taken much longer than originally planned. She hated having to tell her son the horse he’d set his heart on had gone to a higher bidder. “Drop me here, please.”
“Sure.” Dylan stopped the car. “I can take you to your house though.”
“That’s okay.” She didn’t want him anywhere near her house. She unbuckled her seat belt and threw open the door.
“How about a dinner meeting with me and the mayor? We can discuss the upcoming election, maybe a few personal tidbits. It would be an exclusive.”
“That’s very generous.” To her knowledge, the mayor hadn’t been giving anyone exclusive anything. “I’ll speak with my editor about it.”
“I hope we’ll see each other again soon, Whitney.”
Not if I’m lucky.
“I look forward to receiving those questions.”
She watched Dylan leave, then headed toward the center of activity. Since her brother, Adam, owned a bar, he always had a booth at the festival. Family would inevitably be there.
Her eldest brother had no knack for humor or tact. “Whitney, you look like shit. Where the hell have you been?” Adam scolded when she strolled up to his booth.
“Don’t start,” she snapped.