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He’s lost his powers again and this time it might be her fault.

This is the dysfunctional family camping trip from hell.

Scratch that, *in* hell.

Calan is determined to find a way home and keep Emma from harm but she’s making that impossible. He’s fighting for any scrap of control, which is impossible when he must continually keep the party from choking the life out of each other.

Emma knows she’s pushed Calan to the limit, but she has to do what she knows is right. She’ll do anything to save him.

Emma and Calan’s love may have finally defied destiny one too many times.

Stranded and forced to stick close together, secrets are squeezing out between the cracks. If the Stygian don’t kill them first, one of their own will.


July 8th, 2019

*Important Announcement for Pre-orders on Tear in the World*

If you pre-ordered Tear in the World, there was an issue and the pre-order went down, and it cancelled all the pre-orders (oh the joy!)

I apologize for the inconvenience, but rest assured the ebook will be available on Thursday, July 11th as planned.



April 20th, 2019

The War is Over

Revenge of the Snack Cakes

The war has been long (a full month), brutal (two considerable chunks cut out of my ceiling), and it has taken its emotional toll, along with my… errr I mean the Mama Raccoon’s babies. After futilely trying to drive away mama raccoon away using predator pheromones, she cozied up over my library with her babies.

So what dear readers was our next resort? SNACK CAKES!

You read that correctly. We set up a live trap for Mama Raccoon and we called her out with the sweets, ie a couple old zingers and some cat food.

Later that night I was startled by a consistent banging only on one side of the house. It felt like Christmas! Someone’s big (not so jolly) ass was walloping on the roof, and I couldn’t wait until morning!

Meet Mama Raccoon!
Sure enough, I finally met my roommate! To see our EPIC first meeting – click here for the video. At first, she sent me scathing glances but soon became pitiful asking me with those big eyes, ‘what are ya gonna do with my beyhbeyhs???’ I firmly told her we would return the Tiny Jerkwads and Tony, but she could not live with us anymore.

And so we performed yet another C-Section – get it? C-section? Cause ceiling? HAAAAA. Click here to see babies being pulled out of my library ceiling with snorts and grunts and click here to see Tiny Jerkwad #5 complete the set!

And we got up close and personal with all the kids again who are still about 2 weeks from opening their eyes – click here

So now I can finally get back to writing and editing and prepare to the glorious launch of the Five Orders Series! And act like a damn writer again. Right?

People who see me ask, “How do you feel now that the raccoon’s are gone Holly?” A shadow darkens my face. My eyes turn hollow and haunted with a thousand-yard stare, and I say in a low, rough voice. “I don’t know. I’ve been in this war for so long, I’ve forgotten who I am.” I still hear noises on the roof, phantom raccoon sounds, like a Vietnam vet having flashbacks. But the larger part of me wonders,
why can’t we be friends?

Many are suggesting I turn this into a children’s book. Can I get a poll on how appropriate machetes are in children’s books?

April 12th, 2019

In the Fight of My Life

Guys. I just want to write action-packed Paranormal Romance  books for you. But you know what makes writing challenging? An all out war between me and the trash pandas in my attic! 

Oh Holly, raccoons aren’t so bad, don’t be dramatic. Oh yeah?! 

My Critter expert, who I’m nominating for sainthood, performed an appendectomy on my kitchen ceiling and lookey what we pulled out?

CLICK on the picture to see the video and hear the baby chittering sounds that have been plaguing me for weeks!

We almost had it under control

Five baby raccoons! OMG those little dears are the just cutest friggin bebehs. So I named all five!
Tiny Jerkwad #1
Tiny Jerkwad #2
Tiny Jerkwad #3
Tiny Jerkwad #5

With mama long gone, the babies would go to an animal shelter.

Problem solved. I won the war.

Dear reader. We removed the babies, closed up all the holes in the roof. Except the mama raccoon was still up there. So when we took her babies then closed all possible exits, she. Was. Pissed. All night long, she beserked overhead. While my husband soundly slept through the roof being nearly torn down, I was awake all night clutching my machete calling Animal Control numbers trying to find out the likely hood she would tear her way down into my house in search of her passel of tiny jerkwads.

Pray tell Holly, what sage wisdom did you receive from Animal

#1 Ma’am, raccoons are pests, you need a pest control service.
Oh really? Because if a flippin’ wild animal ends up tearing through my house, I would hope someone would help me come CONTROL it!!!!

What I actually said – um okay, sorry for bothering you. But still, does anyone over there know if she will try to come down?

#2 Ugh, I dunno. I guess  make sure the pantry and fridge are closed and make sure all the food is put away and out of reach?
Excuse me? She’s not looking for a snack! She’s looking for her babies and blood revenge!!!

 What I actually said – Um. Okay, thank you very much.

So there I was, clutching my machete taking incriminating photos of my husband fast asleep (he really should be more alert) and wondering if I should ditch this scene and flee to my friend’s house who lives 3 minutes away. But who would protect my husband? More than that, would the mama trash panda come and steal my babies as revenge??? And by babies, I mean my two house rabbits.

So I did what any self-respecting princess warrior would. I stayed up and I protected my household until she finally tired herself out at 2am.

When the alarm went off at 6am, my dear sweet husband rolled over with a smile and kiss and said to me, “Don’t you feel great? We got so much sleep!” 

Dear reader, he had no idea what danger he put himself in when not one, but two machetes had made their way to my bedside table.

So back up into my attic the babies went along with male raccoon pheromones. Apparently male raccoons are real dicks and will kill any babies that aren’t their own. Rude.

So pray for me. Pray that I get some sleep. Pray that the mama raccoon senses danger and relocates the tiny jerkwads to new abode. You can check my IG account www.instagram.com/hroberds for the hilarious story updates.

March 28th, 2019

Holly vs the Trash Pandas

I write books and fight raccoons
While I’m hard at work trying to pump out fast-paced, exciting, steamy hot, paranormal romance books, it is really important I have focused writing time and enough rest.

You know what makes both of those things harder? The heavy creak of someone or something walking over my head in my attic! GAH!

I dropped my husband off at the airport for his business trip on Sunday, so when I heard heavy creaking on my stairs at 6 AM the next day, I jackknifed up in my bed looking for a weapon and wondering if I could pull on shorts before I rolled out the window and jumped down into the front yard.

Do you also constantly work out escape routes for any environment/situation you are in? Oh no? Just me? Fair enough.

Eventually, I realized the sounds were not coming from the stairs so much as over my head. Needless to say, I grabbed my bridal machete, the one my husband and I wrapped in white ribbon and used to cut our wedding cake. It reassuringly lives on le husband’s bedside table now.
Look at our sweet little bridal machete! Isn’t it precious???   

When I finally managed to call for help with my problem, I told the woman on the phone, “I believe I either have raccoons or there is a human being up in my attic. From what I understand, you handle at least one of those problems.”

And you know what? She said if there was a human in my attic they would take care of that, too! Now, that’s service!

I didn’t tell her my third suspicion was my house was haunted. Again. Don’t ask…

For the next several days, the creaking was so constant and loud I was often convinced my unwelcome guest had gotten into the house.

When I told friends of my problem, the first thing they did was assure me that there was in fact a YouTube video of animal control going up into an attic to handle a suspected raccoon problem and instead found an adult, human woman. And oh, I should totally watch it.

HELL FREAKIN’ NO!!! No. No, thank you friend, I don’t wish to watch that video while I’m alone in the house before the situation has been properly assessed. I’m already imagining that scenario enough, don’t dump fuel on my crazy!

One of my good friends, Emily, later informed me if there was a person living in an attic for more than a week, the cops can’t kick them out, the homeowners must officially evict them.

That can’t possibly be true… but if it were, I would absolutely go up there and demand rent or take a finger.  My other friend, Bree, protested, saying I, of course, couldn’t soil my bridal machete with such a violent act. I countered that the bridal machete is obviously the family heirloom with which I protect my land!!!

But lo, the Critter Man came out, and it is not human invaders living above. It’s the fat ass of a trash panda, a night raider, a masked bandit, a GD raccoon. She probably has her two teenagers in tow and is setting up shop in my house to pop out some baby bandits.

So my guy finally wrapped the house up tight again, covered every hole and crevice, and installed a one way door for if any critters were still inside. Genius!

So that was the end of that. For about 30 minutes.

On top of the heavy butts walloping around on my roof, the trash pandas are now loudly voicing how pissed off they are about the new arrangements. Their angry chitters are as aggressive as their attempts to find a way to break back into the house right outside my bedroom window at 2 AM.

So in short, life is full of everyday battles, and sometimes you have to stop everything to fight trash pandas. I’m not saying I’m a hero, but yeah.