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Hi! I am TL Hamilton, an indie author from Australia who will be publishing in the new Moondust Library series.
I live in Melbourne with my hubby, two little boys, and Hugo the turtle (Hugo is more demanding than you’d think).
I am a proud bibliophile and try to quit coffee at least once a month (no luck so far).
I love stories, and daydreaming about new stories, which is why I write all over the romance spectrum from romcom right through to the dark, gritty hold onto your seats drama.
I am happiest when the characters in my head are behaving.
A kelpie, a satyr, and a fire salamander watch a succubus walk into a bar…
My name is Lex, and while this sounds like the start of a bad joke, the punchline falls flat, just like my ego when I find out that not one of them is interested in me… even though my succubus insists they be the ones to punch my V-card.
I’m not so sure.
I would drown my sorrows in ice cream and animal documentaries, but I have too much to do!
I have big plans for Crafty Seductions—my new business venture in Moonlit Falls, but someone has it out for me and wants me to fail. Things are going wrong at every turn.
Then, after an especially disastrous coffee date, these men are suddenly changing their tune.
Is it just the magic? Or can I trust that this is real?
Dion—the Satyr who may just dance me off my feet.
Ren—the fire salamander who says I’m his greatest treasure.
Tase—the Kelpie who wants to devour me.
And me? I just want to teach people crafts.
Set to the backdrop of a prank war gone mad; a town-wide vendetta; and my faithful (but dense) beloved pet, Rusty the capybara my story has all the feels - or maybe that’s just a little feeling up in public. Cold shower recommended.
They call me Kane ‘the bullet’ Bryson.
Sports enthusiasts say it’s for my speed in the pool, female fans say I can get them off faster than any battery-operated alternative.
I’ll tell you it’s both with a wink and a smile.
That is, until shit hits the fan.
Trials are coming up for the national team and coach says I need to clean up my image.
It would be easier if I didn’t have a nosy blast from the past snooping around for her next scoop.
When I’m assigned to follow Kane Bryson’s shot for Nationals my first response is a resounding no.
The bad boy of swimming doesn’t need any more press coverage, and this is one reporter who refuses to kiss his arrogant ass.
When the decision is taken out of my hands, I decide it’s time to get creative.
He broke me once, now it’s my turn to watch him SHATTER.