The Witch's Demon Now Available Exclusively on Amazon!

I'm so happy to finally present the story that I have been working on for so long. The Witch's Demon book 1 is now available on Amazon exclusively. It is included in the Kindle Unlimited program which means that at least for the next 90 days it won't be available anywhere but Amazon. Whether or not you are a member of KU and whether or not you have a Kindle, you can still enjoy this book. For those that don't know you can download a free reading app that allows you to read Kindle books on your smart phone or computer. Now, please enjoy a new excerpt.

Excerpt:
It was Ona who brought her an understanding of what had really happened to Summer’s real mother. When Summer was twelve and Ona ten years old, the younger girl had whispered the things that no one had ever dare say aloud.
“Your mother is the plaything of a demon.”
“My mother?” Summer said, nearly forgetting that the two weren’t the same flesh and blood.
“Your white mother—the one who disappeared.”
Summer had looked at Ona with wide eyes. It was not exactly forbidden to speak about Summer’s mother, but such discussions were frowned upon by the family’s matriarch.
Ona continued, her dark eyes serious. “I heard them talking.” Them meant many different things depending on the context—But Summer knew that in this context ‘them’ meant the ladies of the circle; the witches group that they belonged to.
“They didn’t know I was home,” Ona continued. “I was supposed to be outside collecting herbs but I got thirsty. Miss Genevieve said that your mama got her goose cooked, dabbling in things she shouldn’t. And then mama said that no one deserved to be the plaything of a demon…”
Summer frowned images in her head of the many stray cats they sometime took care of that toyed with the captured mice or birds before killing and devouring them.
“Do you think my mother is still alive?”
Ona looked stricken. “Mama thinks so. But if she comes back will that mean you won’t be my sister anymore?”
“I don’t know,” Summer had answered honestly, tossing back one thick black braid. “Can we be sisters even if we don’t live together?”
Ona shrugged but then another thought struck her, “What if your mother is living in hell?”
Summer had never thought about that. An uneasy fear began to crawl over her skin.
“What if the demon comes back and makes you live with him and your mother?” Ona said--her small brown hands clutched in her lap.
Summer shook her head. “Mama won’t let that happen.”
Ona sighed and the tension began to recede from her small body. “You’re right. The circle won’t let anyone take you. But if mama hadn’t come to your house that day, maybe the demon would have come back for you.”

The Witch's Demon book 1 on Amazon

TWD teaser trailer

I don't have a release date for The Witch's Demon book 1. But I'm shooting for the end of November...Uh, yeah, I know it's already the end of the month. Which means you should have it in just a few short days.

The Pepper Pace newsletter

Yes...I know I'm a day late and a dollar short with creating a newsletter. But here it goes. Now this is my first try so it will be a work in progress but the most important thing is that you will get up to date news, give-aways and sneak peeks. So be sure to sign up!

Author Pepper Pace Newsletter

The Witch's Demon Book 1~Sneak Peek

Chapter One

The abandoned witch

There is nothing more unfortunate than to be a witch with no powers--or perhaps more accurately, a witch whose powers have yet to manifest.

This was not Summer’s fault. She wasn’t exactly born into it—although mama said that she had great power that lay just beneath her skin waiting to come out. It made Summer think about an errant hair or stray pimple; waiting to come out.

The circle didn’t want her, although mama sometimes allowed Summer to help her with small things like drying the herbs and mixing them for use in potions. But Summer was never allowed to sit in the circle with the others and when she asked why mama just said that she wasn’t born into it.

Mama and her sisters all had the talent—but they were born into it. Yasmine wasn’t her real mother and Bethsheba and Ona were not her real sisters. Sometimes people gazed upon her with her pale skin and long black hair that cascaded down the center of her back. They would take in her emerald green eyes and wonder why her mother and sisters were black when she was so obviously white.

People were idiots, Summer would think. Why did they think that family was only comprised of flesh and blood? Family was who loved and took care of you when your own family was nowhere to be found.

Summer’s real mother had lived in a small little house on John’s Island amidst swamp alligators and raccoons that came right up on the porch to eat the dog’s food. Summer remembered the pretty flowers and the thick forest with the water snakes that hung from the trees, and the strange willow trees that looked straight out of fairytale. What Summer didn’t remember is going to school or having friends. She was six and then seven and then eight and the only people she saw were her mother’s customers.

They would come at dusk with their money clutched in their fist and determined expressions on their faces because they knew that the strange white woman that lived in a shack on the water’s edge had a knack to make things happen.

She knew how to work the best gris gris—maybe because she was disconnected from the rest of the community and didn’t allow her own prejudices to interfere with who she worked magic for or against--or maybe her mysterious ways harkened to a darker magic that no one wanted to talk about.

By the time Summer was eight she knew the plants and the magic words and would help her mother with the most rudimentary spells. One morning Summer woke up and her mother wasn’t home. She went to the river and checked the traps and brought back the meat but her mother was still not around. Summer cooked breakfast—at eight she was old enough to make most of the meals.

Her mother; Autumn, did not return and for two terrifying weeks Summer wandered their small house and the surroundings that she so loved. She bathed in the river the way her mother would want her to and took care of the animals. People came for her mother’s magic but Summer hid. But they kept coming and then mama showed up.

Mama called her with a song. Summer peeked at her from where she was hiding from behind a tree. And Mama stood on the porch and in a beautiful light voice called out for the whereabouts of the pretty little bird. But mama was the pretty one. She was true Creole, a tantalizing mixture of Kiawah Indian, French and African. Her long hair fell in waves down her back and Summer remembered that she wore a long dress but was barefoot—yet no dirt seemed to have settled on her feet.

The song mama sang began to make Summer sleepy and before she knew it her feet were carrying her to the strange woman that stood singing on her porch. When mama’s hazel eyes rested upon Summer a broad smile touched her face. She lifted Summer into her arms as if she was a little baby and mama carried her home where she was to live from that moment forward.

~***~

It was Ona who brought her an understanding of what had really happened to Summer’s real mother. When Summer was twelve and Ona ten years old, the younger girl had whispered the things that no one had ever dare say aloud.

“Your mother is the plaything of a demon.”

“My mother?” Summer said, nearly forgetting that the two weren’t the same flesh and blood.

“Your white mother—the one who disappeared.”

Summer had looked at Ona with wide eyes. It was not exactly forbidden to speak about Summer’s mother, but such discussions were frowned upon by the family’s matriarch.

Ona continued, her dark eyes serious. “I heard them talking.” Them meant many different things depending on the context—But Summer knew that in this context ‘them’ meant the ladies of the circle; the witches group that they belonged to.

“They didn’t know I was home,” Ona continued. “I was supposed to be outside collecting herbs but I got thirsty. Miss Genevieve said that your mama got her goose cooked, dabbling in things she shouldn’t. And then mama said that no one deserved to be the plaything of a demon…”

Summer frowned images in her head of the many stray cats they sometime took care of that toyed with the captured mice or birds before killing and devouring them.

“Do you think my mother is still alive?”

Ona looked stricken. “Mama thinks so. But if she comes back will that mean you won’t be my sister anymore?”

“I don’t know,” Summer had answered honestly, tossing back one thick black braid. “Can we be sisters even if we don’t live together?”

Ona shrugged but then another thought struck her, “What if your mother is living in hell?”

Summer had never thought about that. An uneasy fear began to crawl over her skin.

“What if the demon comes back and makes you live with him and your mother?” Ona said--her small brown hands clutched in her lap.

Summer shook her head. “Mama won’t let that happen.”

Ona sighed and the tension began to recede from her small body. “You’re right. The circle won’t let anyone take you. But if mama hadn’t come to your house that day, maybe the demon would have come back for you.”

~***~

By the time Summer turned twenty, Bethsheba had gotten married and Ona had moved to North Carolina to attend college. Summer felt as if her life was at a stand still. Deciding that she would have to be the one to make something happen in her life she decided to visit the empty little house that she had lived in as a child.

No one went there, except maybe on Halloween night when teenagers dared each other to walk up on the porch and call her mother’s name three times before running screeching through the night at the hooting of an owl or the passionate squeal of a wildcat.

Summer had never gone back, at first because she was too young to make the trip by herself, and then later because she was too afraid of seeing the ghosts of what used to be.

Making up an excuse to go to the Farmer’s market, Summer borrowed the car and made the long trek to her old house. She didn’t like lying to her mother—it wasn’t something that she was accustomed to doing. Mama was a white witch, after all and knew things, so it was best to live your life without guile in dealings where she was concerned.

Summer was unable to explain what it is that she wanted but she knew that until she returned to the house, she would not be able to begin the process of putting her past behind her, or moving forward towards a future that was not haunted by her other’s disappearance.

The small house seemed no more than a shack to Summer as she pulled up into an overgrown drive-way. Old beer bottles and cans littered the front yard. However the door to the house remained closed and there was none of the expected graffiti or broken out windows seen in most abandoned homes. Folks around these parts respected the unseen forces even if they claimed not to always believe in them.

Summer wasn’t afraid of the things that prevented others from walking into the house. She didn’t expect Autumn’s ghost to come flying out. Her fear was the simple discovery that she did not belong anywhere.

The front door was locked and Summer hurried to an overgrown flower pot where the key lay nestled beneath it—even after all of these years. She used it to unlock the door and was met by the stifling stench of a closed up house—mildewed furniture, dust and the faint smell of past meals.

Coughing, Summer looked around, taking in the sight of the hazy images of dust covered surfaces. Little footprints of some long lost rodent marred the perfection of the dust covered hardwood floor.

For a long moment she just stood there taking in the sights, which conjured lost memories. How small the house looked, crowded with rickety furniture. An old velvet couch that had looked so grand when she was a child, now she clearly saw that it was threadbare with strategically placed laced doilies that attempted to hide some of the bigger holes.

Next to the sofa was a three-legged cocktail table that held a gaudy lamp with a stain-glassed lampshade.  When she was a child she used to lay on the couch and stare at the lamp thinking that it looked like the jewelry of some of her mother’s richer customers. She would think of Miss Remy’s colorful rings whenever she gazed at the lamp and she would think that she and her mother were rich.

Summer’s feet moved the few steps to the shelf that held jars and small wooden boxes that contained her mother’s herbs, amulets and potions. There were spell books lining the shelves and when Summer opened a few of them they appeared to be handwritten by people who had died long before her mother had been born.

She saw one familiar book with a handmade cover. It was the book that her mother used to write in! Summer quickly snatched it off the shelf. It was covered in stiff leather, the stitching all hand done. When she opened it, it creaked as if the pages would fall to the floor.

She wondered if her mother had written it. Were these her spells? Summer carefully leafed through the pages noting the neat script and drawings of plants and herbs, or protective circles.

The writing wasn’t always easy to read and Summer imagined that it would be so for even someone who had more than her limited education. She had never taken well to schooling. She didn’t consider herself stupid but things did come harder since she was eight years old the first time that she ever stepped foot into a school building. It had taken Summer a long time to acclimate to the other children and book learning just never seemed to come easy. Summer was lucky to graduate with barely passing grades.

With a sigh she pressed the book to her chest, clutching it as if she was holding her long lost mother.

She felt saddened by the neglected house and for a moment she wanted to scrub everything down until it was just the way her mother had left it. Instead she moved from item to item, allowing her fingers to touch them—reacquainting herself with the things that at one time had been as familiar as the back of her hand.

Summer moved to the kitchen. All of the dishes had been neatly washed and put away and she opened each cabinet and examined the mismatched dishes and chipped glasses, memories of her past returning to her. She felt as if she was walking out of a fog as long forgotten memories returned to her.

She went to her mother’s room, the bed was still unmade and if not for the layers of dust she would have thought that her mother had jumped out of bed just that morning.

“Where are you?” She whispered. She left that room and walked to her old bedroom. Her twin-sized bed was neatly made up with faded sheets that had images of princesses. There were no toys in this bedroom but her belongings had been neatly lined on a bookshelf that contained things that had interested her as a child; several thumb size pieces of amber, the thighbone of a toad, a shiny black stone with white specks, a pen knife and several pieces of wood that she had tried to whittle into shapes of animals—but had turned out to be little more than malformed knots.

She sighed and wondered why she had come. This had been a bad idea. Suddenly she wanted to leave and never return. But her mother…the mystery of her mother’s disappearance was somewhere in this house.

Summer sat down at the kitchen table, ignoring the dust. This is where her mother had done most of her work with her clients. This table was the one piece of furniture that seemed to have any value. It had obviously been cut from a great tree—the type Summer could only guess. But the tabletop was thick and the rings of the tree that it had once been could be clearly seen even now through the layers of dust. She remembered that when polished the table shined and was as smooth as marble. She had loved tracing those rings with her fingers.

Ignoring the dust that poofed up in a plume, Summer sat the book down on the table top and beginning with page one she began to read.

She had to start somewhere.

~***~ 

Summer returned to the old house a few times over the course of the next two weeks to read the books. She didn’t dare bring them into mama’s house. She had no doubt that Yasmine’s keen awareness would pick up on the dark magic that had invaded the sanctity of her home.

These spell books were even harder to understand than her mother’s. The spell books were hand written and sometimes little more than chicken scratch. At times the ink was so faded that she had to hold it right next to the kerosene lamp in order to make out the words. Some pages were stained or cracked. But what she could make out was fascinating. There were stories of hell, but not a hell that she could have ever imagined. The hell described mirrored a world that was much like her own.

The drawings were amazing but frightening. They included images of monsters with fangs and talons but what intrigued her more was the fact that many of the demons looked like people except with red glowing eyes. Some demons had tails and horns, some were thin, heavy, beautiful or ugly just the same as humans.

The books described something that confused her. There was page after page describing a war between witches and demons. Demons seemed to despise witches in a way that didn’t match their desire to cause chaos for humans. If she understood what she was reading then demons enjoyed the idea of twisting a human’s soul, but they wanted witches dead.

That would contradict that her mother was a demon’s plaything. Her mother was probably dead. Unless Yasmine and the ladies of the witch’s circle knew something that she didn’t know…

She had to do something that she had avoided; Summer needed to confront Yasmine about her true mother.

TO BE CONTINUED...

Is Facebook against authors who write romance?

For more information please see this petition by Change.org

I HAVE A LITTLE SECRET...

 

Several months ago I did a post on Facebook where I talked about how sales are going down for not only me but many of my author friends. We have all discussed ways to increase our readership or to even write outside of our usual genres. Many IR authors have already begun doing that, creating Alt names in which they write under. In some ways this could mean even less IR stories from some of the popular authors in our genre. 

The truth is that we know that the IR fans are the best and most loyal around. But we aren't reaching past our pools of fans. Even when we write stories that are contemporary or paranormal or Sci-fi we just aren't reaching these readers.

In my case I decided to put Pepper Pace to rest while I write under a different name. Yes, I won't lie for a while I wanted to permanently put Pepper to rest but I was convinced by all of my friends that Pepper Pace is beyond IR and that my readership isn't as much interested in the IR aspect as they are in the story that I have to tell. I'm convinced this is the truth so I have changed my plans and I will continue writing Pepper Pace stories. 

While I was struggling with this decision I wrote three stories under my alt name  Beth Jo Andersen (direct link to Beth Jo's website. You can also visit her Facebook page). Beth Jo writes smut--specifically monster sex erotica. My first series under that alt name is called Primal Urges and it is Big foot porn also known as cryptozoological erotica.

Author Virginia Wade cleaned up on monster fantasy porn. But not all fantasy monster sex stories are about Big Foot, some of the monsters include T-rex, Minotaurs, Merman--there was even one written about a Cheesy Puff that came to life and pimped out a guy. 

So I guess you see that monster sex porn is somewhat tongue in cheek. They are sexy quick reads that are outrageous, funny and campy.  

I read a few of the stories and liked them. Yes I do enjoy smut (smile). So I asked my boyfriend to come up with the whitest persons name possible. It seemed that monster porn authors all have very Vanilla Caucasian names. He came up with Beth Andersen--coincidentally he is white and his sister's name is Beth...but I digress. 

When I told Beta Reader number 1 my idea she shook her head and said she didn't want to Beta Read the Big Foot porn. I completely understood and told her that I didn't expect her to do that. But secretly I did. Once the first book was written and formatted, I gave it to her to look at just to check the meta data and cover images, etc. Then I walked away. The next day I asked her if it looked okay.

Beta Reader glared at me. "I can't stand you! You wrote this just like Pepper Pace! You made Big Foot with heart. I like him!" I just hid my grin. I knew she would because even though it's smut--I'm still Pepper Pace and even my smutty stories have heart and soul. 

Then Beta Reader did what she does best, she sat down and we worked on how to make my monster sex porn the best from all the rest. I definitely think that I achieved that. Whereas most people write about sexy bombshells with big boobs, my hero is a lonely women that was in an auto accident that caused her to have severe facial injuries. After feeling shunned by society she moves out to the hollers of Kentucky. Also, my Big foot is not a raping ape but an intelligent, protective alpha that helps this human even though they are natural enemies. I'm posting a (clean) sneak peek here:

Snatched by the Big Foot! Primal Urges book 1

So that is my little secret. I'm not going to put a disclaimer that these books are for adults only...

~Pt 3 The Witch's Demon book 1~

~Now available, Pt 3 of The Witch's Demon. In this chapter Summer comes face to face with the demon~

If you haven't been following the continuing series of the Witch's Demon book 1 as narrated by author Pepper Pace, it isn't too late! Available only on Etsy for the low price of $.50 for each part, the complete story will go on sale in digital format on Amazon for Kindle for $2.99 on Halloween. Then the narrated version will be removed. Get yours before its gone.

The next episode will appear Monday Oct 26th. 

 

Pt 3 The Witch's Demon

PART 2 The Witch's Demon

Now available for your listening enjoyment the Second Installment of The Witch's Demon, exclusively on Etsy for the low price of $.50
In this episode Summer finds out the truth about her mother and she gets some unexpected help.
Just as a reminder, this is narrated by me, the book in its entirety will be available on Halloween exclusively at Amazon for $2.99

Part 2 The Witch's Demon book 1

PART 1 Of The Witch's Demon. Now available on Etsy

I'm happy you guys are enjoying The Witch's Demon! Offering episodes for this story takes me back to the days when I used to write for free on Literotica and my blog. Back then I would write regular weekly updates. I wrote Wheels of Steel in that way. It turned out to be right around 170K words before I finally broke it into 3 stories and submitted it for publishing.

Writing regular episodes can be tough but it's fun. I hope you enjoy this unique experience. Of course, I no longer write for free but I do what I can to keep my books reasonably priced. I always try to keep things fresh and new. I want to strive to always be different. That's why I'm narrating this story.

Yes, I'm the narrator for The Witch's Demon. I'm not a professional but I enjoy it--and who knows, maybe I will do it more. Right now these episodes are not available in writing and only in MP3 format. When the story is completed on Halloween then the digital book can be purchased through Amazon.com exclusively. The price will be $2.99.

But you can get the entire story BEFORE it becomes available on Amazon by sharing in the weekly narrated episodes. Each part is $.50 (which will end up being less than the digital copy).

For those of you who have already enjoyed part 1 the next episode will be available by October 2.

 

THE WITCH'S DEMON PT 1.

The Witch's Demon book 1 ~Preview~

CHAPTER 1

There is nothing more unfortunate than to be a witch with no powers--or perhaps more accurately, a witch whose powers have yet to manifest.

This was not Summer’s fault. She wasn’t exactly born into it—although her mother said that she had great power that lay just beneath her skin waiting to come out. It made Summer think about an errant hair or stray pimple; waiting to come out.

Mama and her sisters all had the talent—but they were born into it. Mama wasn’t her real mama and Bethsheba, Ona and Marcelle were not her real sisters. Sometimes people gazed upon her with her pale skin and long black hair that cascaded down the center of her back. They would take in her emerald green eyes and wonder why her mother and sisters were black when she was so obviously white.

People were idiots, Summer would think. Why did they think that family was only comprised of flesh and blood? Family was who loved and took care of you when your own family was nowhere to be found.

Summer’s real mother had lived in a small little house on St John’s Island amidst swamp alligators and raccoons that came right up on the porch to eat the dog’s food. Summer remembered the pretty flowers and the thick forest with the little scurrying squirrels and rabbits. What Summer didn’t remember is going to school or having friends. She was six and then seven and then eight and the only people she saw were her mother’s customers.

They would come at dusk with their money clutched in their fist and determined expressions on their face because they knew that the strange white woman that lived in a shack on the water’s edge had a knack to make things happen.

She spoke the ‘gullah’ just like any of them, and knew how to work the best gris gris—maybe because she was disconnected from the rest of the community and didn’t allow her own prejudices to interfere--or maybe her mysterious ways harkened to a darker magic that no one wanted to talk about.

By the time Summer was eight she knew the plants and the magic words and would help her mother with the most rudimentary spells. One morning Summer woke up and her mother wasn’t home. She went to the river and checked the traps and brought back the meat but her mother was still not around. Summer cooked breakfast—at eight she was old enough to make most of the meals.

Her mother did not return and for two terrifying weeks Summer wandered their small house and the surroundings that she so loved. She bathed in the river the way her mother would want her to and took care of the animals. People came for her mother’s magic but Summer hid. But they kept coming and then Mama showed up.

Mama called her little bird. Summer peeked at her from where she was hiding from behind a tree. And Mama stood on the porch and in a beautiful light voice called out for the whereabouts of the pretty little bird. But mama was the pretty one. She was true Creole, a tantalizing mixture of Kiawah Indian, French and African. Her long hair fell in waves down her back and Summer remembered that she wore a long dress but was barefoot—yet no dirt seemed to have settled on her feet.

The song Mama sang began to make Summer sleepy and before she knew it her feet were carrying her to the strange woman that stood singing on her porch. When Mama’s hazel eyes rested upon Summer a broad smile touched her face. She lifted Summer into her arms as if she was a little baby and Mama carried her home where she was to live from that moment forward.

Before that very day, she had never set eyes upon the woman who would raise her. It was a full year later before Summer asked where her real mother was and Mama said that she was with the one that she had no right to call.

And that idea seethed inside of Summer for many years—years in which all those around her were able to cast spells and work magic while she wondered if she was destined to always be different. And then the idea began to sprout from the seedlings of information that she had gathered about her real mother—that the woman could call upon someone stronger to work her magic, a minor demon, something that could easily be controlled.

~***~

Summer learned magic from mama—and not hoodoo—which is what her real mother worked. Mama didn’t cotton to that kind of thing. Magic was clean and white and Summer was taught the clear distinction between the two. Her real mother had partaken in the dark rituals of conjuring and root-working—in which it was common to call upon a demon to do ones bidding. When Summer tried to question her mother about it, the topic was swiftly shut-down, her mama snapping at her in uncharacteristic anger. Later mama came into the bedroom that Summer shared with her little sister Ona and explained the best way that she dared.

“You are a vessel, Summer, just waiting to be filled.” And then mama touched her chin and lifted her head until their eyes met. “One day it will be filled—be patient and only offer yourself purity and cleanness. Anything less will darken your soul. Do you understand, little bird?”

And Summer had understood. She had taken pangs to keep her thoughts and actions pure. The boys did not come around—too afraid of her white skin and her powerful Mama, but she didn’t care about boys or physical attraction. She only cared about the one that should not be called upon.

It was Ona who brought the idea to her mind. When Summer was twelve and Ona ten years old, the younger girl had whispered the things that no one dared say aloud.

“Your mother is the plaything of a demon.”

“My mother is your mother …” Summer said, nearly forgetting that the two weren’t the same flesh and blood.

“No. Your white mother—the one who disappeared.”

Summer had looked at Ona with wide eyes. It was not exactly forbidden to speak about Summer’s mother, but such discussions were frowned upon by the family’s matriarch.

Ona continued, her dark eyes serious. “I heard them talking.” Them meant many different things depending on the context—But Summer knew that in this context ‘them’ meant the ladies of the circle; the witches group that they belonged to.

“They didn’t know I was home,” Ona continued. “I was supposed to be outside collecting herbs but I got thirsty. Miss Genevieve said that your mama got her goose cooked, dabbling in things she shouldn’t. And then mama said that no one deserved to be the plaything of a demon…”

Summer frowned images in her head of the many stray cats they sometime took care of that toyed with the captured mice or birds before killing and devouring them.

“Do you think my mother is still alive?”

Ona looked stricken. “Mayhap she is. But if she comes back will that mean you won’t be my sister anymore?”

“I don’t know,” Summer had answered honestly, tossing back one thick black braid. “Can we be sisters even if we don’t live together?”

Ona nodded in relief but then another thought struck her, “What if your mother is living in hell?”

Summer had never thought about that. An uneasy fear began to crawl over her skin.

“What if the demon makes you come and live with him and your mother?” Ona said--her small brown hands clutched in her lap.

Summer shook her head. “Mama won’t let that happen.”

Ona sighed and the tension began to recede from her small body. “You’re right. The circle won’t let anyone take you. But if mama hadn’t come to your house that day, maybe the demon would have come back for you.”

Coming in two days ...

Raising Dion; a new diverse comic book

I have already read the first comic (which was free). If you would like more information about this project you can find more information here: 

RAISING DION

Have you read About Coco's Room?

Years before writing best selling novels such as Beast, Wheels of Steel and Crash I wrote an Urban Lit story that was so hardcore that I didn't think it could be released--especially after the fiasco with my BDSM story Blair and the Emoboy.
I refused to sale it on Amazon and decided that it would appear in digital and manuscript format on ETSY only. About Coco's Room is one of my little known gems...and I'm fine with that because this story is not for everyone. The themes include child abuse, rape, drug use, murder, graphic language, sex, love, hate, romance and forgiveness.

About Coco's Room is the story about the strange relationship between a pusher and the silent woman that he delivers cocaine to. Despite a rocky start, somehow they form a strange friendship that becomes deadly...
You can buy this book digitally at a discount by using code LABOR2015 through labor day!

Get your copy at ETSY

Labor Day Sale on Peppe Pace Products at Etsy

Use discount code LABOR2015 for a 1 dollar discount on your purchase of $3 or more.
ETSY

Wheels of Steel books 1-3 available as a boxed set

In July 2010 I debuted a story on my blog, Writing feedback. It began as an ongoing free series, and soon I was receiving hundreds of views with each post. The story is about a young man who was wheelchair bound due to his uncontrolled Cerebral Palsy. In addition this young man had terrible seizures and spells, which caused him to stutter. But Jason is also a gifted musician with a nearly unending knowledge of music. Many readers of romance might not have thought of Jason aka Top as a romantic hero—and yet for thousands of readers Jason has become a sexy bad boy that you just can’t help but to love.

And then there is Robin, a young black woman stricken with crippling shyness. Jason lashes out at her, taking out his frustrations on her which eventually forces Robin to stand up for herself and to emerge from her shell. This begins a love story that re-defines IR/Multicultural Romance. Even I was surprised at the popularity of the stories. I, of course loved them—but I didn’t think it could gain mainstream popularity because I didn’t realize that enough people would be just as intrigued as I was about how this couple and their friends would deal with their handicaps—both perceived and real, as well as their budding fame.

People began to encourage me to publish the story but I didn’t know how. It was massive at nearly three hundred thousand words. I decided to break the story into several books. This is why you only see the books entitled Book 1, Book 2, Book 3 etc. with no other title to differentiate each book from the other.

The story of the Wheels of Steel gang has touched people from many diverse backgrounds. Although the main characters have disabilities I don’t feel that the story is about physical handicaps. In fact, I like to think that this book is about people who have disabilities both external as well as internal … just like you and I.

Thank you for taking this WOS journey along with the many other readers that have grown to love this story and these characters.  A few things to keep in mind; this story is for mature readers only. It contains graphic sex, language and other adult situations. Happy Reading!

Wheels of Steel Book 4 is finally live!

I can't wait for you guys to read book 4 in the Wheels of Steel series. There are so many surprises in this book and inwardly I have been grinning in anticipation for your reactions. After Beta Reader #1 read it she had a smile on her face--not that strained look of 'Let me go tell this girl that she is straight up crazy...' 

No, Beta Reader #1 says, "This is why you are my favorite writer...I'm going back to re-read the entire series now."

I just did a fist pump and said, "I told you that I was going to make all the craziness work."
Soooo, if you have been holding out on beginning this series because you doubted the mind of the writer--you may want to read all 300K words JUST so that you can get to this book (smile).
Happy Reading!
‪#‎NeverDoubtTheMindOfAWriter‬
‪#‎TeamPepperPace‬

 Now Available at Amazon.com for Kindle

Coming Soon to Barnes and Noble for Nook

Coming Soon in Paperback at Createspace

Just a few of Pep's favorite things on Amazon

I'm an Amazon Affiliate now! It means that I can set up an Amazon shop and feature things that interest me. If you're interested in what interests me then check out my page on Amazon.


 
 

Pep's GoFundMe page

Hi all! I'm trying to convert my body of work into audio books. Check out my GoFundMe page if you're interesting in helping!

Wheels of steel book 4 first look; Chapter 1

This weekend I will be sharing chapter 1 of the soon to be released, long awaited book 4 in the Wheels of Steel series.

Chapter 1 WOS-4

Wheels of Steel Book 4 Coming July 24th. Pre-Orders now available!

Pepper Pace’s long awaited fourth book in the Wheels of Steel saga finds Robin and Jason reunited after a betrayal that Robin could not forgive. Too much drinking, partying and drug use leaves Robin with wavering control. And Jason has vowed that no matter what, he will never again lose the woman he loves.

Their tentative reunion is put to a test when tragedy requires them to travel to Japan where Robin is finally forced to face the one person whose betrayal she cannot forgive. In book four Pepper Pace brings together the entire Wheels of Steel crew along with new players … as well as new betrayals.
On the edge of becoming famous the Wheels of Steel crew have to navigate the Japanese nightlife, partying, drugs, the Yakuza—all with the backdrop of their creative music. Warning: This book is intended for adult readers only and contains graphic language and sex. All characters are 18+

COMING 7/24/2015 FOR E-BOOK AT AMAZON AND BARNES AND NOBLE. ALSO IN PAPERBACK AT AMAZON AND CREATESPACE
NOW AVAILABLE FOR PRE-ORDER ON AMAZON

Cheesy Puff Came to Life And Pimped My Gay Ass

This is the title of a book--and no, I'm not here to bash it. I'm laughing and intrigued. I would have shown a link but it's removed 

from Amazon. Some writer friends and I were hanging out and one said that she had saw a book called Cheesy Puff Came to life and Pimped My Gay Ass. I didn't believe it until I saw the cover of the book which had a cheese puff wearing a big purple pimp hat...

Obviously this is satire. We found this on GoodReads and it was once on Amazon but as of the time of this writing it was removed. I wasn't going to buy the book but wanted to see the ranking of the author Max Woods. 

But I was intrigued at titles such as: 

• Gangbanged on Planet of the gay robo raptors
• I Seduced Bigfoot to Save Broadway from the homophobic sasquatches...and I liked it!
• Billionaire sports car made me gay

I'd heard about this thing called 'Monster Sex'. It was a big thing and included Dinosaur and Big Foot sex. And then Amazon pulled much of the erotic stories. The laws were intended to target incest and child pornography stories but in the process removed satire and fantasy sex.

Now let me just say, to each his own. This is a No-Judgement-Zone. But intrigued, my friends and I checked out Big Foot's Side Piece (and bought it, and enjoyed it) which was about this lady that had an encounter with Big Foot and Big's 'girlfriend' found about it and gave her a beat down. We laughed so hard.

So when I look at these titles I don't think in terms of sexuality but in humor. One thing I saw is that these books are very popular, and quick reads but generally they cost a lot. But I can guarantee that they will make you laugh.

big foot's side piece Beth Jo Andersen

How to stay married--thoughts from a divorced man

I read this on a friend's blog and thought I'd share. These are words of wisdom that can help save your relationship

By David Mikus 

Obviously, I’m not a relationship expert. But there’s something about my divorce being finalized this week that gives me perspective of things I wish I would have done different… After losing a woman that I loved, and a marriage of almost 37 years, here’s the advice I wish I would have had

1) Never stop courting. Never stop dating. NEVER EVER take that woman for granted. When you asked her to marry you, you promised to be that man that would OWN HER HEART and to fiercely protect it. This is the most important and sacred treasure you will ever be entrusted with. SHE CHOSE YOU. Never forget that, and NEVER GET LAZY in your love.

2) PROTECT YOUR OWN HEART. Just as you committed to being the protector of her heart, you must guard your own with the same vigilance. Love yourself fully, love the world openly, but there is a special place in your heart where no one must enter except for your wife. Keep that space always ready to receive her and invite her in, and refuse to let anyone or anything else enter there. 

3) FALL IN LOVE OVER and OVER and OVER again. You will constantly change. You’re not the same people you were when you got married, and in five years you will not be the same person you are today. Change will come, and in that you have to re-choose each other everyday. SHE DOESN’T HAVE TO STAY WITH YOU, and if you don’t take care of her heart, she may give that heart to someone else or seal you out completely, and you may never be able to get it back. Always fight to win her love just as you did when you were courting her.

4) ALWAYS SEE THE BEST in her. Focus only on what you love. What you focus on will expand. If you focus on what bugs you, all you will see is reasons to be bugged. If you focus on what you love, you can’t help but be consumed by love. Focus to the point where you can no longer see anything but love, and you know without a doubt that you are the luckiest man on earth to be have this woman as your wife.

5) IT’S NOT YOUR JOB TO CHANGE OR FIX HER… your job is to love her as she is with no expectation of her ever changing. And if she changes, love what she becomes, whether it’s what you wanted or not.

6) TAKE FULL ACCOUNTABILITY for your own emotions: It’s not your wife’s job to make you happy, and she CAN’T make you sad. You are responsible for finding your own happiness, and through that your joy will spill over into your relationship and your love.

7) NEVER BLAME your wife If YOU get frustrated or angry at her, it is only because it is triggering something inside of YOU. They are YOUR emotions, and your responsibility. When you feel those feelings take time to get present and to look within and understand what it is inside of YOU that is asking to be healed. You were attracted to this woman because she was the person best suited to trigger all of your childhood wounds in the most painful way so that you could heal them… when you heal yourself, you will no longer be triggered by her, and you will wonder why you ever were.

8) Allow your woman to JUST BE. When she’s sad or upset, it’s not your job to fix it, it’s your job to HOLD HER and let her know it’s ok. Let her know that you hear her, and that she’s important and that you are that pillar on which she can always lean. The feminine spirit is about change and emotion and like a storm her emotions will roll in and out, and as you remain strong and unjudging she will trust you and open her soul to you… DON’T RUN-AWAY WHEN SHE’S UPSET. Stand present and strong and let her know you aren’t going anywhere. Listen to what she is really saying behind the words and emotion.

9) BE SILLY… don’t take yourself so damn seriously. Laugh. And make her laugh. Laughter makes everything else easier.

10) FILL HER SOUL EVERYDAY… learn her love languages and the specific ways that she feels important and validated and CHERISHED. Ask her to create a list of 10 THINGS that make her feel loved and memorize those things and make it a priority everyday to make her feel like a queen.

11) BE PRESENT. Give her not only your time, but your focus, your attention and your soul. Do whatever it takes to clear your head so that when you are with her you are fully WITH HER. Treat her as you would your most valuable client. She is.

12) BE WILLING TO TAKE HER SEXUALLY, to carry her away in the power of your masculine presence, to consume her and devour her with your strength, and to penetrate her to the deepest levels of her soul. Let her melt into her feminine softness as she knows she can trust you fully.

13) DON’T BE AN IDIOT…. And don’t be afraid of being one either. You will make mistakes and so will she. Try not to make too big of mistakes, and learn from the ones you do make. You’re not supposed to be perfect, just try to not be too stupid.

14) GIVE HER SPACE… The woman is so good at giving and giving, and sometimes she will need to be reminded to take time to nurture herself. Sometimes she will need to fly from your branches to go and find what feeds her soul, and if you give her that space she will come back with new songs to sing…. (okay, getting a little too poetic here, but you get the point. Tell her to take time for herself, ESPECIALLY after you have kids. She needs that space to renew and get re-centered, and to find herself after she gets lost in serving you, the kids and the world.)

15) BE VULNERABLE… you don’t have to have it all together. Be willing to share your fears and feelings, and quick to acknowledge your mistakes.

16) BE FULLY TRANSPARENT. If you want to have trust you must be willing to share EVERYTHING… Especially those things you don’t want to share. It takes courage to fully love, to fully open your heart and let her in when you don't know i she will like what she finds... Part of that courage is allowing her to love you completely, your darkness as well as your light. DROP THE MASK… If you feel like you need to wear a mask around her, and show up perfect all the time, you will never experience the full dimension of what love can be.

17) NEVER STOP GROWING TOGETHER… The stagnant pond breeds malaria, the flowing stream is always fresh and cool. Atrophy is the natural process when you stop working a muscle, just as it is if you stop working on your relationship. Find common goals, dreams and visions to work towards.

18) DON’T WORRY ABOUT MONEY. Money is a game, find ways to work together as a team to win it. It never helps when teammates fight. Figure out ways to leverage both persons strength to win.

19) FORGIVE IMMEDIATELY and focus on the future rather than carrying weight from the past. Don’t let your history hold you hostage. Holding onto past mistakes that either you or she makes, is like a heavy anchor to your marriage and will hold you back. FORGIVENESS IS FREEDOM. Cut the anchor loose and always choose love.

20) ALWAYS CHOOSE LOVE. ALWAYS CHOOSE LOVE. ALWAYS CHOOSE LOVE. In the end, this is the only advice you need. If this is the guiding principle through which all your choices is governed, there is nothing that will threaten the happiness of your marriage. Love will always endure.

In the end MARRIAGE isn’t about Happily ever after. It’s about work. And a commitment to grow together and a willingness to continually invest in creating something that can endure eternity. Through that work, the happiness will come.

Marriage is life, and it will bring ups and downs. Embracing all of the cycles and learning to learn from and love each experience will bring the strength and perspective to keep building, one brick at a time.

These are lessons I learned the hard way. These are lessons I learned too late. But these are lessons I am learning and committed in carrying forward. Truth is, I LOVED being married, and in time, I will get married again, and when I do, I will build it with a foundation that will endure any storm and any amount of time.

If you are reading this and find wisdom in my pain, share it those those young husbands whose hearts are still full of hope, and with those couples you may know who may have forgotten how to love.

One of those men may be like I was, and in these hard earned lessons perhaps something will awaken in him and he will learn to be the man his lady has been waiting for. The woman that told him 'I do', and trusted her life with him, has been waiting for this man to step up.

If you are reading this and your marriage isn’t what you want it to be, take 100% responsibility for YOUR PART in your marriage, regardless of where your spouse is at, and commit to applying these lessons while there is time.

MEN- THIS IS YOUR CHARGE : Commit to being an EPIC LOVER. There is no greater challenge, and no greater prize. Your woman deserves that from you. Be the type of husband your wife can’t help but brag about.