tessmackall

I LOVE EMMY ELLIS!!!

2011-06-20T16:20:00.000-04:00

I love love love EMMY ELLIS. She is an amazing person. She is an amazing talent. Writer, graphic artist, editor. You name it, she can do it. She's rare. And is honestly the sweetest, kindest, and most honest person.

And she makes me misty-eyed some days too. Today was one of those days. I told her I wanted a new banner for my email signature to promote Strip Down that is releasing on July 8.

So in my inbox I found a little gift from her. And here it is...

I am OVER THE MOON for this banner! Doing the happy dance here. Snoopy ain't got nothin' on ME!
Thank you, Emmy. YOU ARE THE BESTEST!!!!!!

Take Me Away by Tina Donahue Releases Today!

2011-05-06T06:00:00.004-04:00

The fabulous and oh so talented Tina Donahue has a new release today from Ellora's Cave. She's such an amazing writer I just had to share a little of this book with everyone. I know you'll enjoy it!

BLURB:

Take Me Away
Tina Donahue

She’s everything he escaped…and all that he desires

Three years ago, Kyle turned his back on a pro-football career and being the target of tabloids or gold-digging groupies. Craving privacy, he gets it at his roadhouse in Northern California until Lexi Sands invades his life. Indulged and surely phony, she’s exactly what Kyle fled.

An actress since childhood, Lexi’s fresh out of an anger management program, court-ordered when she lashed out at a badgering paparazzo. Weary of the press’s harsh scrutiny, she sees Kyle’s secluded cabin as the ideal place to hide out and him as a damn-near perfect alpha male. Deliciously virile. Protective. Principled. She offers him serious cash to let her stay for two weeks, assuring there will be no complications or touching.

Yeah, right. Passion flares, along with tenderness. Kyle recognizes how lonely Lexi really is, while she’s falling hard. Through intimate days and impassioned nights, they explore their most shameless needs, until a cruel betrayal exposes their growing love, forcing a choice neither anticipated.

EXCERPT:

Chapter One

“Let me get this straight,” Kyle Griffin said. His attention remained on the flat screen TV suspended above the bar, the Braves-Phillies game. “You’re asking me to shack up with Vampira.”

Pete Wolnecki made a strangled noise.

Kyle had no idea if Pete was stifling laughter or choking on his five-alarm chili. Its spicy aroma mingled with an abundance of fragrances—the sweet scent of corn, tomatoes and cheese from the other Mexican fare, the tang of foreign and domestic beer, smoke that clung to the patron’s clothing, faint perfume from the ladies and a hint of pine from the Douglas firs surrounding this place.

Clearing his throat, Pete spoke in a raspy voice just loud enough for Kyle to hear. “Her name’s Lexi.”

Several men groaned before Kyle could.

The guy closest to him whined, “Did you see that? The receptionist in my office plays better ball.”

“With any guy she can find,” his buddy said.

They both laughed.

The game broke for a commercial. Good thing. The Braves were having a shitty night, no different than the kind Kyle had experienced during the worst days of his pro-football career. With his back to the TV, he planted his elbows on the lip of the polished oak bar and regarded two young women who stood yards away at the pool table.

Dressed in stretchy halter-tops, denim short-shorts and black flip-flops, the ladies giggled in unison, like a well-practiced duet. The guys with them winced when the shorter of the girls overshot the ball, the tip of her cue just missing the table’s green felt.

With a look that was all innocence, she asked her date, “It’s still my turn until I hit it, right?”

Kyle couldn’t watch. He swung his gaze to the left of them, the small stage for local bands that played on the weekends. Beyond it, snuggled against the wall, were a series of booths that offered subdued lighting and privacy. In the last one, away from everyone else, sat Vampira.

Her name’s Lexi.

Whatever. For the second time tonight, Kyle regarded her black shoulder length hair and bangs, black clothing, black lipstick and nail polish. The Goth/vampire look with a touch of Frederick’s of Hollywood thrown in given her denim mini skirt and short-sleeved top. His eyes flicked lower. The ends of her top tied beneath her ample breasts to bare her midriff, a smooth expanse of taut, creamy flesh.

He cleared his throat at its sudden tightness and inched his gaze higher. Anywhere else, her get-up would have gotten her noticed. Here in Marin County, California, staring was politically incorrect. The weirder one appeared the less attention one got. There were simply too many locals who looked as she did…slightly strange.

Of course, they weren’t also oddly seductive.

Against his better judgment, Kyle dragged his gaze over her again, taking his time since she didn’t seem to notice him or anyone else. Her full attention remained on the TV commercial, as though she was really into the product. Pepsi by the sound of the jingle.

Its music grew thunderous, frenzied with fake joy. Around him, beer bottles clinked against each other or on top of the tables and bar. The guys at the pool table laughed.

Warmth radiated from Kyle’s chest to his neck. Her irises sparkled, reflecting the light from garish neon signs for Coors, Bud, Miller, Corona. From this distance, her eyes appeared to be light blue, framed by sooty lashes. She was young, no more than mid-twenties, her features not beautiful but decidedly pretty, her figure definitely worth a third or fourth stare.

The game resumed. Men readjusted their bulk on their chairs or stools.
Without pause, she lowered her gaze to the drink between her hands, its dark amber color making it soda or ice tea.

Kyle glanced at her glass, sweaty with moisture, then edged his scrutiny back to her breasts. The lush globes wiggled slightly with each of her deep sighs. She did that a lot. He wasn’t about to consider why. Riveted by her clingy top, he imagined her sweet little nipples hard and puckered, prepared for a man’s mouth. So, what color were her nipples anyway? A dusky rose to match her black hair or were they pink to complement her milky skin? Unless she’d painted the areolas and tips black too.

Rather than surprising Kyle, the thought intrigued. Would they taste of licorice or chocolate or something even better, the succulent flavor of soft female flesh?

She shifted slightly and brought her hand to her top, pulling the deep V of the neck closer together, covering herself, keeping the view from him.
Busted, Kyle wasn’t about to look her in the eye or encourage her in the least. Ignoring the dull, needy ache in his groin, he gave a parting glance to her fringed cowgirl boots, and turned to see the girl who’d nearly desecrated the pool table. Or rather, his pool table. For three years now, everything in Kickoff’s Roadhouse belonged to him, Pete and the bank.

Bent at the waist, the girl wiggled her ass while preparing to take her next shot. The backs of her legs were seamless. Her black thong peeked from the top of her short-shorts, which bared the bottom of her ass nicely.

At any other time, Kyle might have enjoyed the view. Knowing the damage she might inflict on his table, he clenched his teeth and waited for the worst.

“Sands,” Pete said, dropping his spoon into the bowl.

It clattered loudly. The girl’s cue clacked against the side of the table, no doubt denting the wood with her missed shot.

“Oh shit,” she moaned.

Blindly, Kyle reached behind himself for his Heineken.

Pete leaned so close Kyle could smell chili pepper and a hint of Coors on the man’s breath.

“Lexi Sands,” Pete said, his voice at a pitch those around them couldn’t possibly overhear. “And I’m not suggesting you shack up with her. Like I said, she needs a place to stay for a couple of days, away from the publicity, the crowds, you know? No more than a week. You have an extra room in your cabin. She’s willing to pay. Three grand. I did mention that, right?” He eased away and plowed ahead, not waiting for an answer. “We could use the dough for this joint.”

You can find Tina at http://tinadonahue.com

And you can purchase your copy of Take Me Away from Ellora's Cave at
http://www.jasminejade.com/p-9333-take-me-away.aspx

New Release for Renee Vincent!

2011-04-20T06:00:00.001-04:00

Before I begin, I'd like to take this moment to thank the very talented Tess MacKall for having me on her blog today for the continuation of my Blog Tour & Giveaway. I just love the title: Hotter Than A Sultry Southern Night.

Now while I my new release, SILENT PARTNER, takes place in the northern region of the US (Boston to be exact), rest assured I'll keep the post within the 'sultry' atmosphere, giving the readers another teaser between my sexy hero, Grayson Anders, and my oh-so-smitten heroine, Chloe LaRoche. Hope you enjoy!

*And remember to leave me a comment on this post with your email address so you can be entered in my Blog Tour Giveaway! The prize includes an autographed print book from my backlist (winner's choice), assorted bookmarks, and a $15 gift certificate to Amazon! See HERE for contest details.

Silent Partner

By Renee Vincent

Available Now At:

Blurb:

Grayson Anders has it all. He’s the co-owner of a happening nightclub in downtown Boston, he’s wealthy, and women practically throw themselves at his feet the moment he steps on the dance floor. But profiting from these obvious benefits is not his desire. His passion is dancing and he wants nothing more than to find the perfect dance partner.

Chloe LaRoche is a talented artist, but a failing entrepreneur. Her once thriving studio is now on the brink of foreclosure and unless she paints the next Van Gogh Starry Night, she’ll have to cut her losses and say goodbye to her quaint little gallery. Fearing her career is at an end, she drags herself to the local hot spot, determined to drown her worries in the bottom of a shot glass. At least that was the plan…until she lays eyes on a wickedly sexy, swarthy dancer in the club—Grayson Anders.

Unable to resist, Chloe finds herself in Grayson’s arms, indulging in a passionate, out-of-control, one night stand. And when they awaken the next morning, they are both consumed with inspiration.

Grayson finds his perfect dance partner and Chloe finally finds her muse. But, will her secret destroy both their dreams?

Excerpt:

With his hands smoothing down her neck, his fingertips blazed a trail to her shoulders where he traced her clavicles, opening the collar of her blouse. Immediately, he bent to kiss her there, his lips brushing over her now goose-pimpled flesh.

Oh, he was good, so damn good at foreplay that she could hardly brace herself for what was to come of his love making. There was no time to prime herself. He pulled her from the wall and steered her through the maze of furniture in his spacious living room, down the hall to his bedroom. Ready or not, he was going to strip away her clothes, piece by piece, and have his way with her.

…all night long.
The thought itself was enough to steal her breath away, until his talented hands unbuttoned her blouse—more fluently than she ever could—and pushed it off her shoulders, letting it fall to the floor. By the time she felt the coolness of the air on her bare skin, his arms had wrapped around her, enveloping her with instant heat.

If she had any thought of feeling insecure with her near-naked state, the strength of his embrace was more comforting than anything she could imagine. Even through the darkness, she could see his smile as he gazed over her, his eyes enjoying the sight of her breasts cupped in pale blue lace.

As they turned the corner to his room, silver moonlight poured in from the large bare window beside his bed. She could see clearly the lust in his amber eyes and it was evident he could see her small dark areolas through the sheerness of her bra.

He brought his hands up to them again, but this time tenderly, letting only his fingertips graze over her nipples peaking tightly against the cloth. She shuddered beneath his touch, her hands clutching his shoulders for support.

“Hm…you are so gorgeous. And to think I had you pegged as the plain white cotton type.” Slowly, he dragged his fiery fingertips down her stomach, letting them slip just beneath her waistband. “What do you have down here? Matching panties?”

She could only smile nervously, spinning around to let him see the long zipper running the length of her skirt. She felt his hands smooth over the skin of her waist before he tugged on it. Leisurely, he drew it downward, revealing inch by inch the sight of her bare bottom flossed with a thin string.

His breath escaped him as the denim fell to the floor. “A thong,” he mumbled, his hands grabbing her hips and pulling her close.

His warm breath tickled her earlobe as he spoke, but she was too caught up in the feel of his hands moving across her stomach to really care. All she could think of was the tingling of her sex, the warm pool of arousal between her legs, and the strong longing she felt for him to touch her.

She melted in his arms as his hand slipped down between her legs, cupping her, petting her. The heat of his touch against the rasp of her lace panties cramped her belly with a painful need, an undeniable longing that grew with every purposeful graze of his fingers.

She spun in his arms and faced him, her hands resting on the slight swell of his bare chest. She took his lips, reveling in the feel of the hard muscle beneath her palms, the firmness of his sexy, all-male body. Imagining every part of him was toned, she wanted to stroke him everywhere, starting with his narrow hips and succulent bottom.

She swiped her hands across his torso and circled around his lower back, slithering into his pants. Gaining a handful, she squeezed, drawing him near.

“Let me make it easier on you,” he said, unfastening his fly.

She glanced up, his face twisting between a look of pleasure and pain as she shifted one hand to the front and took hold. She felt him tremble in her hand, his mouth parting to release a groan. He tipped his head back and closed his eyes, his hands gripping her pelvis for dear life. There was no doubt he liked her touch and she hoped he would also enjoy her intercourse.

She was not used to having casual sex—with anyone—and she wasn’t sure what she should expect or how much she should offer. For her, sex came with commitment, with feelings, with love. And though she hadn’t had many partners in the past, she could at least say those few encounters involved some sort of deep emotion before the sex came into play.

Here, with this man, there was nothing but carnal lust.

They didn’t know each other outside the club, nor did they even know each others’ names. As she watched him react to her hand pleasuring him, she didn’t think he cared what her name was anyway.

Sure, she could probably come to feel something for him as he was certainly a man worth falling for. But when it came to having sex with him, she couldn’t help but wonder if he’d remember her in the morning. If she, as a person, would ever cross his mind again.

Don’t complicate it, Chloe.

Yeah, that’s what she was doing. And heaven knows she didn’t need any more complications in her life. This was supposed to be a moment to indulge herself. To forget her problems for one night and live it up. To have nothing but no-strings-attached, wild sex with a man hardly worth resisting.

Hardly worth regretting come sunup.

Intent on moving forward before she talked herself out it, she lifted her foot and caught his leather pants, pushing them to the floor. At that moment, his eyes flew open and a smile flirted at the corners of his mouth.

“You are certainly full of surprises tonight, sweet thing. You…sitting at the bar like a spectator, looking out into the crowd like you wished you could dance. When all along you knew how to dance as if you’ve done it all your life.” His eyes fell over her, admiring her, memorizing the curves of her body amid her lacy lingerie. “Then you hide this little number under an unflattering straight-laced silk blouse and skirt. Who would’ve thought?”

Chloe swallowed hard, wondering if he had just praised her for being unpredictable or if he had given her a backhanded compliment.

He cocked his brow, eyeing her differently now. “Not much for talking, are you?”

Her heart skipped. Did he really expect her to talk? Maybe she wasn’t cut out for this casual sex thing after all.

“Okay, I get it,” he replied with a wink. “Sex now…talk later. That’s fine by me.”

If you missed the previous blog spots on my Blog Tour & Giveaway, you can go there now:

#1 Romance by Chance

#2 History Undressed
#3 Coffee And Romance
#4 Tina Donahue Presents...
#5 Romance Junkies
#6 Beyond Romance

Melissa Bradley Is Here!

2011-04-07T08:54:00.000-04:00

Foreign Affairs

Close your eyes and picture it…Exotic, distant lands…steamy, sultry nights where spices perfume the air and musical languages you don’t understand swirl around you. Can you see? Hear it? Look just over there beyond the crowd. There he stands, a gorgeous specimen of masculinity. He turns and looks directly at you. The quickening in your belly makes you feel warm and shivery. He smiles, then starts toward you with confident, liquid grace, a panther among house cats. His gaze homes in on you and you’re no longer thinking of what to drink, but rather of long, slow, wet kisses and heated caresses…

Ahem! Nearly went overboard there. These are exactly the kinds of things I was thinking about when I envisioned the plot for my new release, Byzantine Provocateur. I always wondered what it would be like to indulge in a foreign affair. The kind one loves to read about, the kind they make movies about, the kind one fantasizes about. Needless to say, my creative juices went into hyperdrive when I created this story. Enjoy!

Byzantine Provocateur

Amber Quill Press/Amber Heat

ISBN 978-1-61124-072-6

Buy Link http://amberquillpress.com/AmberHeat/ByzantineProvocateur.html

Blurb

An ancient city sparks forbidden desire…

Thalia Burton arrives in Istanbul to relax and enjoy the company of her old friend. Hoping to forget the boring rut her life had become, she never imagines one meeting with Fadi's brother re-igniting the dim flame of passion inside her. Captivated by the heat in his golden eyes, Thalia finds herself tempted beyond reason...

Murat Bahar had only intended to meet Thalia as a courtesy to his family. One look at the lovely American incinerates his intentions. She is an exquisite morsel he longs to taste, a taboo treat enthralling him like a siren of myth. Perhaps just one night…

Once is not enough. Thalia and Murat embark on a fiery, secret affair that could burn them both, costing them friends and family.

Excerpt

Thalia and Murat are getting together for the very first time…

He caressed her in slow circles, kneading and rubbing her from breasts to belly. She quivered from the heat of his hand through the cotton of her shirt. Her breath hitched as he inched lower and lower. Palming her through her cargo pants, he massaged, squeezing and pressing until she thought she’d die.

Pliant and wanton, she dropped her head to his shoulder, undulating, pushing into his touch. Her blood sizzled, every cell in her body clamoring for him to be inside her and he hadn’t even started to remove her clothes. She whimpered, digging her nails into his forearm.

“Please.”

His lips curved in a smile against her neck. “Please…what?”

She inhaled sharply as he flicked open the button of her trousers.

“This?” He nipped her earlobe. “Or this?” Oh-so-slowly, he eased down her zipper, then teased a finger along the top of her panties.

She dragged in a breath. “I…I…”

Back and forth, he rubbed, skimming the top of her mound. She sagged against him, knees bent, thighs parting to give him better access.

Continuing to tease her, he reached up with his other hand up to cup her breast, rolling her nipple between thumb and forefinger. A wave of desire slammed through her and she cried out as he worked the hardened nub through the barrier of fabric.

Her vision clouded. “Murat!”

“Shh. This is only the beginning. We have plenty of time to play.”

She shuddered in frustration, wanting nothing more than to be flat on her back with him sliding inside her, bringing her to a volcanic climax. Something she hadn’t gotten from a lover in a long time. On the ragged edge, she tried to maneuver out of his embrace, take control.

He scraped his teeth over the nape of her neck and smacked her rear.

“Hayir, no,” he rasped.

Clamping his hands to her hips, Murat walked her to the bed, the hard promise of his erection burning into her lower back. He ripped the duvet from the bed, scattering pillows, then pushed her onto the mattress.

Thalia sat stunned as Murat knelt between her thighs. What is he doing?

“The first time with a new lover should be a symphony of bliss, a journey to be savored.”

Author Links

My Blog http://melissasimaginarium.blogspot.com/

My Space http://myspace.com/melbwrites

Facebook http://www.facebook.com/pages/Melissa-Bradley-Author/131443446902498

Everything's Comin' Up Cowboys!

2011-03-30T13:27:00.000-04:00

Everything's comin' up cowboys around here today with the release of Return to Delight from the Lawless line at Ellora's Cave. When I found out my friend Mari Carr's book, Inflamed, was set for the same date (and it's ALSO in the Lawless line) we couldn't resist teaming up for a cowboy contest! Beginning today and lasting until midnight on Friday, we'll ask you some pretty simple questions and the winners will win a book from our backlist.

Mari and I both have a 'cowboy question' to pose. While you're on my blog, take a look at my question but head over to Mari's blog and leave the answer in her comment box. While at Mari's blog, read her question but answer it on MY blog by clicking HERE. Easy right? We'll each name a winner on Saturday morning at our respective blogs.

My question: What is the downright sexiest thing about a cowboy?

Important! Answer this question in the comment section at Mari's blog

Buy it HERE!

Blurb:

Harley June Baker left Delight thinking never to return, but when circumstances draw her back to this tiny town and straight into Cooper’s strong arms, she knows she’s in deep trouble. The man she’d loved and left behind is now one sexy devil-in-denim and hotter than a Texas summer night. With his every wicked touch throwing her senses into overdrive, how could any sane woman resist?

Cooper Dobbs is a man on a mission. He let Harley get away once, but never again. Knowing it’s time to burn up some sheets with the delectable woman, Cooper plies her with a raw, savage passion that threatens to incinerate them both. It’s gonna take plenty of panty-drenching sex and a fair amount of sweet-talkin’ to make Harley his, but Cooper reckons he’s up to the challenge.

An Excerpt From: RETURN TO DELIGHT

Chapter One

Harley June Baker tightened her grip on the steering wheel of her candy-apple red Mazda Miata and pressed a booted foot on the accelerator as she swept past the powder blue sign that read Welcome to Delight! Serving up miles of smiles deep in the heart of Texas!

Yeah, right.

She did the whole mental eye roll thing. All the town of Delight ever served up was a healthy dose of boredom. Around these parts, the citizens of this tiny Hill Country town called the place Dee-light with a heavy emphasis on the “e” but as a starry-eyed teenager with a thirst for excitement and adventure, all she’d really wanted was to get the hell out. Back then the place was one dead-end road to nowhere but now she wasn’t so sure. Childhood memories rolled slowly over her threatening to take her under.

The blast of nostalgia hit her, quite unexpectedly, and she blinked back tears as she thought of her mom and how much she missed her. Deborah had died a few months ago leaving Harley June a million good memories along with an aging Victorian that had been in the family for countless generations. For as long as she could remember it had just been her and Mom. She didn’t know her dad. He’d hung around long enough to name her after his favorite motorcycle and then one day, he’d gotten on it and driven away never to return.

What a shithead!

Her mom had been a wonderful woman but he’d been too young and stupid to see that. She and Mom had done okay though. When she reached adulthood, she realized that not only did she look like Mom but that she’d inherited a sassy streak of independence and a hard-work ethic that was pure Deb Baker.

Harley stopped at a red light in the center of Main and flipped on her right turn signal. Leaving Mom a dozen years ago to chase her dreams had been one of the hardest things she’d ever done. She turned at the First Methodist Church and drove the three blocks to Austin Road. Her hands began to tremble and tears filled her eyes when she took in the long, tree-lined street with its neatly paved sidewalks. When she was little, she’d mastered bike riding and in-line skates on those concrete paths. In the distance she spotted the big Victorian that had been in her family for generations. She shouldn’t sell it! She should keep it and see if she could make a different kind of life for herself in this small town that held her childhood memories.

“No! I can’t stay. There’s nothing for me here,” she argued aloud. Then her eyes narrowed as she saw the shiny black bad-boy truck parked in front of the house. Next to the vehicle sat a giant-sized toolbox and several cans of paint. Harley June pulled up behind the truck and turned off the ignition. She’d hired Connelly Brothers Construction to do an eensy face-lift on the house to make it more attractive to potential buyers. Obviously they’d followed her instructions and had sent someone over to begin work. She had emailed several days ago telling them she’d be in town and it was good to see they’d gotten a start on things.

Grabbing her purse from the passenger seat, she stepped out and walked to the sidewalk, stopping to take in the wide, old-fashioned veranda with its large round pillars and the high gables of the roofline. Someone had repainted the double front doors a dark charcoal and had planted bold, red geraniums in the iron urns flanking the entrance.

Why?

It was beyond strange considering she was selling. Yes, they were lovely but who would do such a thing?

Frowning a little, she advanced, her boot heels knocking smartly on the front walkway. As she headed up the wide steps to the porch, she stopped then caught her breath and held it. Nostalgia mixed with bittersweet longing curled tightly in her chest as Cooper Dobbs stood there looking at her through a pair of heavily lashed smoky-colored eyes. Bare-chested and holding a well-used paintbrush, he grinned broadly. A pair of dimples dipped into his bronzed cheeks and his blacker-than-night hair was mussed as if he’d repeatedly raked his fingers through it. A portion of that sexy black stuff drooped over his forehead. His eyes crinkled at the corners as he dropped the paintbrush onto a broad swath of canvas on the floor of the porch. “Well, hey Harley June! It’s about damn time you came home,” he drawled as he reached into a back pocket to grab a crumpled blue bandanna. He wiped futilely at the pale gray paint smears on his deliciously mounded chest and dragged it over a set of washboard abs.

Was there drool on her chin?

Buy it HERE!

Blurb:

Stuck in a rut in every way possible, Keri decides her first step in a bid for change is moving back to the Texas home she left years ago. The second step? Spicing up her sex life with the crazy-hot cowboys she left behind. Too responsible (and smart) to touch her way back when, Max and Shaw filled Keri’s hottest teen dreams. Now she’s older, wiser—and more than ready to make up for lost time.

Max and Shaw were always fond of Keri, but the stunning woman strutting back into their lives is a far cry from the serious, studious teen they remember. She wants to take a walk on the racy side—with both of them—and the cowboys are only too happy to oblige. As they suspected, the sex is explosive, though Max and Shaw aren’t sure Keri can really handle everything they have to give.

Nor do they know if she can handle the sexy secret they’ve yet to divulge.

An Excerpt From: INFLAMED

Copyright © MARI CARR, 2011

All Rights Reserved, Ellora's Cave Publishing, Inc.

Shaw tossed back the last of his beer and then waved the waitress over, asking her to set them up with another round. They’d danced up a sweat, Max and Shaw each taking turns with Keri on the floor.

“Thought you said you couldn’t two-step,” Shaw said. She’d more than held her own, twirling to the music like a professional dancer.

She laughed. “You were right. I’d never had the right partners before.”

Shaw considered her answer and the way she looked at them. Her gaze was hungry, inviting. He glanced at Max, but his friend shook his head slightly. Obviously Max was going to be stubborn. Shaw was tempted to pull him outside and tell him how often Keri’s hand had grazed his ass when they were dancing. She was putting out more than a few signals, and his pigheaded friend was pointedly ignoring them.

Shaw looked at her flushed face and decided it was probably time for a break.

“How about a game of pool?” he suggested. “There’s a small room off the back of the bar that doesn’t get used much.”

Keri nodded quickly. “Sounds like fun. I haven’t played pool since college.”

Shaw rubbed his hands together as they rose and started toward the back room. He gave her an appraising look. “Is that right? Hmmm. Maybe we should come up with a wager then.”

Max shook his head, laughing. “He’s a shark, Keri. Beware.”

“Oh, you don’t have to worry about me,” Keri replied. She stood and let Shaw tug her toward the pool room before continuing. “I may have been gone awhile but I have a very long memory. Don’t think I’ve forgotten about you scamming me out of two weeks’ allowance while teaching me how to play Texas Hold ’Em my sophomore year.”

Shaw laughed at the memory. “Hey, darlin’. I warned you before you joined that game, if you played with the big dogs, you were bound to get bit.”

“Maybe so, but be warned, sometimes the puppy bites back.”

Her sexy innuendo was accompanied by a quick glance below his waist. Shaw reconciled himself to the fact that his cock—which had been residing at half-mast most of the night—was finished fooling around and had made a full-fledged appearance. Nothing short of sex or a quick hand-job in the bathroom was going to cure that affliction. Keri noticed his problem and gave him a wicked grin.

“By the way,” she said, “you can’t claim that as a handicap.”

Shaw’s mouth went dry at her red-hot tease and he looked around to see if Max had heard. Sadly, his friend was still at the table handing the waitress some money and grabbing their fresh beers. Fuck. It was going to be a long night.

They walked into the back room and claimed the pool table just being vacated by a couple of cowboys. The room was dark and dingy and the table wasn’t exactly level, which explained why no one ever used it. Shaw was simply using it as an excuse to get Keri alone for a little while. The loud music was dimmed by the walls, so there was no way Max could continue to pretend not to hear that she was coming on to them.

Shaw narrowed his eyes as one of the men leaving the room slowed his departure to check out Keri more thoroughly. She was wearing a miniskirt that was two inches too close to baring too much for Shaw’s comfort. While he hadn’t minded getting a good look at her long, luscious legs in the truck on the way here, he’d been battling the impulse to pulverize every man who’d leered at her since they’d entered the bar.

“So how do you want to do this?” Keri asked as she picked up a pool cue. “Kind of hard to play pool with three people.”

“You’re on my team,” Max replied, entering the room and setting the beers down on the lone table. “We’ll take turns shooting against Shaw.”

Shaw narrowed his eyes. “How come you get Keri? Maybe I want her on my team.”

Keri laughed. “Believe me, I’m going to be the weakest link. Personally, I think you two should be fighting over who has to take me.”

Shaw suppressed a groan. He wanted to take her, all right. “I don’t think that’s ever gonna be a fight Max and I will have.”

Max threw him a warning glance as he bent down to rack the balls. “We’ll take turns. I get Keri for the first game. You can have her next time.”

“Or,” Shaw said, rubbing chalk over the tip of his cue, “we could share her. She’ll play with both of us.” Shaw walked up behind her, bending her slightly over the table. “In the interest of sharing our vast experience with you, of course.” He handed her the stick and wrapped his arms around her, pretending to show her how to hold the pool cue. The move was purely sensual. Shaw ignored the daggers he could feel Max shooting in his direction as his friend finished racking the balls. Shaw was done pretending so that Max could soothe his guilty conscience. She may still be sweet Keri, but she wasn’t an innocent by any stretch of the imagination. Time to take off the kid gloves.

Keri grinned as she looked over her shoulder. His wicked intentions weren’t lost on her. She bent lower and pushed back slightly, her ass rubbing against Shaw’s cock.

“Like this?” she purred.

He gritted his teeth in an attempt to withstand her sneak attack. She’d taken him down with his own weapon. There was no way to mistake her movements as anything other than a pure come-on.

All bets were off.

Waking Maggie by Cindy Jacks

2011-03-16T15:09:00.000-04:00

Blurb:

Maggie’s just decided she’s been stood up when she bumps into hard-bodied guitarist Calvin—literally. Once the shock of their abrupt meeting wears off, Calvin asks Maggie out for a drink and she figures, why not? She’s all dressed up for a date…just not this one.

She enjoys his company, even if he’s only twenty-seven and she’s forty…something. And while witty conversation’s all good, they’re just as compatible in bed. One drink turns into multiple romps between the sheets. He’s old enough to know how to make love to a woman and young enough to look damn fine doing it…and doing it. He even manages to convince Maggie she’s still pretty hot herself.

Now if he would just stop serenading her with that infernal Rod Stewart song.

Excerpt:

An Excerpt From: WAKING MAGGIE

The sound of a gently strummed guitar roused Maggie from sleep. Eyelids flickering open, she saw Calvin sitting in the tufted chair next to the bed, his acoustic guitar on his lap. A lazy smile tugged at her lips.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“Good morning, babe.” He shifted his grip on the fretboard to strike a chord and then slid his fingers back to another. “I’m serenading you…obviously.”

“Is it after ten?” Maggie sat up, stretched.

“Of course. And there’s coffee on your nightstand.”

With delight, she picked up the steaming mug and inhaled—Viennese roast, her favorite. The first sip slid down her throat, smooth as velvet.

He turned his attention to the guitar again and started singing under his breath.

She rolled her eyes. “You know I hate that song.”

Calvin chuckled, a boyish gleam in his hazel eyes. “But I’m sure Rod Stewart wrote it for you.”

“Contrary to popular belief, I am not that old.”

Continuing to strum the melody, he shook his head. “That’s not what I meant.”

As Maggie’s gaze roamed over the young man’s taut, muscular body, she noticed he was sitting there stark naked, the guitar covering some of his most admirable attributes.

Her eye grew wide. “What have I done to deserve a morning serenade with you au naturel?”

“You don’t remember?” he asked, plucking individual notes.

A gust of wind outside the bedroom window drew her attention. The great oak out back danced, shaking loose a few vermillion leaves.

“Of course I remember,” she murmured, setting down her cup and rising from the bed. Smoothing her silk nightie over her ample curves, she padded across the shag carpet and kissed his soft cheek. “Happy anniversary, baby.”

He stopped playing and set aside the guitar, revealing a red ribbon around his cock. “Are you ready for your present?”

Clapping a hand over her mouth, Maggie let out a yelp of amusement. “You’re certifiable, you know that?”

She caught a glimpse of herself in the dresser mirror. Messy blonde curls cascaded down to her shoulders and her eyes looked a little puffy from sleep. Skin not quite as fresh and tight as his—maybe the morning sun really did show her age, as the song stated. Still, not bad for a women of forty-something.

Wrapping his arms around her, he pulled her onto his lap. She twined her fingers through his longish bronze hair. A hungry smirk on his face, he brushed his lips over hers. She felt his cock twitch against her thigh.

“We should unwrap you before you cut off your circulation,” she said, pulling one end of the ribbon.

Black Cougar Curse Releases Today

2011-01-26T08:55:00.000-05:00

Well, the time has finally arrived and Black Cougar Curse, co-authored with Natalie Dae releases from Ellora's Cave today. It's a steamy shifter story with a hero and heroine to die for. And I'm not just saying that because I was one of the writers. lol

Sam Starr is a Cherokee Indian guide in the Great Smoky Mountains who has been waiting for love for two hundred years. That's a long time to wait. Lucia is a city gal hell bent on finding out what happened to her father, a nature photographer. Their lives intersect with the mythical black cougar.

Sam and Lucia both have trouble coming to terms with the changes in their lives and both must give in for love to survive.

Here's the blurb: Deep in the mountain wilderness, Lucia Chavez searches for closure to her father’s death, and the mythical black cougar he sought. Drop-dead sexy Cherokee Indian guide Sam Starr knows more than he’s telling. After he saves Lucia from being swept away in a mudslide, the bath they both need turns steamy indeed. Sam and Lucia are living proof that near-death experiences can bring two people closer together—they can’t keep their hands off each other.

Amidst danger and mystery, Sam and Lucia explore the lust that burns between them. If their desire gets any stronger it could bring down the mountains. Ancient secrets hold the key to their unbridled sexual need. Was their passion written in the stars?

One man. One woman. A curse that binds them—and could tear them apart.

Get your sexy on and read an excerpt here:

http://www.jasminejade.com/productspecs/9781419931062.htm

Subscribe to Risqué! the hottest newsletter around featuring once-a-month news from erotic romance authors Natalie Dae, Regina Carlysle, and Tess MacKall. http://groups.yahoo.com/group/risquenewsletter

Risqué

2011-01-17T15:18:00.007-05:00

So what is Risqué? (Ris-Kay)- daringly close to indelicacy or
impropriety.

And that, my friends, is the name of the new newsletter launching soon from Natalie Dae http://nataliedae.blogspot.com, Regina Carlysle http://reginacarlysle.com, and MOI.

And exactly what our writing is all about. WE DARE. And we give it to you straight. Nothing
delicate about it. We write it hot and we write it romantic. Just what erotic romance lovers are looking for.

Our debut edition will release the first week of February. We'll be showcasing our latest books, talking about works in progress, sharing tidbits from our everyday boring lives, lol, and announcing contests. Readers can expect a once-a-month email from us.

So if you're looking for the best erotic romance has to offer--if you like it hot--IF YOU DARE...
Join our newsletter group today. You'll be glad you did. We look forward to introducing you to the Risqué side of reading.
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/risquenewsletter

New Policy From All Romance E Books

2010-12-29T15:46:00.004-05:00

It seems that All Romance E Books (ARe) has announced a change in policy for the coming year. Beginning in January there will no longer be a required ten-book minimum from authors or publishers in order to sell from the ARe or Omni-Lit sites.

“Some of our hottest selling books are coming from indies,” said Lori James. “More importantly, the change in policy is in response to author and reader requests.”

More and more authors are choosing to self publish these days but finding third party distribution is difficult when faced with the fact that a minimum number of books are required in order to sell from a particular site. ARe's move to discontinue their minimum requirement has some authors talking already.

What will the influx of self pubbed authors with only one or two books do to sales overall? Some authors worry that it will dilute the sales pool yet again--just like every time another pub opens. Others worry about quality of books. My advice there is to simply look for the publisher and stick with the tried and true.

And that doesn't mean there aren't some really good quality books that are self pubbed. But overall? I suspect we'll see lots of authors publishing just because they now have a venue for distribution when they were rejected by publishers.

Also to be considered is the argument that e books lack quality in general. No, that's not so, but let's face it--not all authors, editors, and publishers were created equally and there is definitely a difference in quality from house to house. So with the potential flood of self pubbed authors invading what does that do to the e book industry overall?

Digital publishing is still growing and quality will be the deciding factors with buyers. To stand the test of time and to convince Jane and John Does to stay with e books is this a good move?

Lots to think about for sure.

New Anny Cook Release: Blue Paradise

2010-12-17T09:31:00.002-05:00

Now In: Icon → M

Line: Xanadu

Series: Mystic Valley

Book Length: Short Novel

Book Type: eBook

Publisher: Ellora's Cave Publishing

ISBN: 9781419930850

MSRP/List Price: $10.40
Our Cover Price: $5.20

Blurb:

When ex-soldier Poussé receives an unexpected job offer from the mysterious Waterloo Group, she doesn’t question the providential timing. Twelve hours later she wishes she had, when she’s captured by two sexy blue-skinned warriors—Jonson and Mali of Mystic Valley.

Mali and Jonson make her an offer she can’t refuse—become their bond mate. Positive she can use the new relationship to escape, Poussé accepts, but she doesn’t count on the physical changes the bonding creates or her constant desire for Jonson and Mali. Their tender touches, hot kisses and even hotter sex get under her skin—which is turning blue! As they pursue other escaped team members, she learns real love and desire have no color barriers…and carnal games are best indulged with two hot bond mates.

Excerpt:

“Pussy, get your ass flat before somebody shoots it off!” George, the team leader’s, voice roared in her headset.

Poussé promptly dropped her ample backside as she scrambled behind a bush with forlorn blue leaves. In vain, she peered through the nearly bare branches for any sign of the rest of her team members. One minute the team was bunched together, the next she was alone in a surreal wilderness of bright red pines and purple-leaved trees with black glittering bark. Cradling her rifle in her arms, she elbowed deeper in a tangled clump of bushes, praying that none of the strange plants were poisonous, as she speculated about the clusterfuck her team was engaged in. Admittedly, she was new to the team and had little experience with their missions, but it didn’t take a genius to figure this operation was a disaster in progress.

From the start, the mission was a farce. The team was composed of mostly misfits and newbies. Their equipment was minimal. At midnight, they all piled in the back of a truck and rode through the night to a wide spot in the road at the foot of a mountain where their driver dumped them without a word. Then they hiked four hours up the mountain until they reached a narrow icy cave where an old man with cold scary eyes waited with two prisoners.

In Poussé’s opinion, the prisoners were stranger than the old man. One man with wild curly blond hair was dressed in faded hospital scrubs that had seen better days, and battered sneakers. The other man was bald and wore some vaguely Middle Eastern garb with sandals. Neither man wore a coat. Then the old man informed the team they were going to invade a secret valley in search of terrorists.

Poussé couldn’t think of any reason they needed hostages if that was the case, but she prudently kept her mouth shut. Though this was surely a clusterfuck if she’d ever seen one, she desperately wanted to remain a team member. This was her last chance. If she screwed this up, she would lose her job, her apartment and car, and have to move back in with her mother or start peddling her ass on the street like her cousin Kisha. She was ambivalent about which would be the worst outcome.

The team silently followed the old man into a slick surfaced tunnel that snaked around for what seemed like miles before finally ending in another tiny cave with a noisy waterfall across the entrance. After a brief rest, the old man started talking. “My name is Llewellyn. We are here to find a very important book. It must be recovered at all cost. You will allow nothing to stand in your way. Shoot anyone who offers resistance.”

She remembered the appalled silence that fell over the team members. Then Rick, the team leader, objected, “We can’t do that! We are not a sanctioned black ops team!”

Llewellyn pulled his own gun and promptly shot Rick between the eyes. “Any other objections?” he inquired as he reholstered his weapon. “No? Then I suggest you get on with the mission.”

Terrified and sullen, the team scouted the area, discovering a faint trail from the cave that led to a grassy circle next to a clear deep pool. Across the lush lawn a spooky stone circle guarded a massive altar stone in its center. Poussé shivered as she recalled that circle and the chills that shuddered up her spine when she brushed against one of the stones that were deeply engraved with intricate spirals and squares. It felt as though an ancient intelligence permeated the circle, safeguarding the altar within.

Her thoughts were jerked back to the present by the crack of rifle fire on her left, followed by a high cry. She shivered in the bitter cold wind, shocked by the change from the muggy heat outside the valley. Acrid sweat trickled from beneath her cap down her face, freezing on her cheeks. She shifted a few inches to her right, peeking past a thick tree trunk that was blocking her line of sight. Nothing. Where the hell was the rest of the team? There hadn’t been a peep since George, who had taken Rick’s place, had yelled at her.

Abruptly, a heavy weight dropped on her back, squashing her flat in the dirt and leaves beneath her. A razor-sharp point pressed in the tender skin just below her jaw.

“Place your hands on the ground above your head,” a deep voice murmured in her ear. A rash of goose bumps pebbled her neck when his warm breath washed over her cold skin.

Poussé mentally shuffled through several options as she muttered, “Yeah, yeah. Give me a minute here. You’re squashing me.” The man was too heavy for her to dislodge and his position, sitting squarely on the center of her spine, left her with no leverage to work with.

He knocked her snug cap to the side. With one hand twisted in her shocking blue Mohawk and the other one still pressing the knife tip to her neck, he scooted down until he was seated on her butt.

“Move. Toss the weapon away too.”

Just for a second she considered trying to turn beneath him, but decided the risk of a slit throat was more than she was willing to bargain. Pissed off at the way he had captured her, she shoved her rifle away and stretched out her arms above her head.

With swift, blurred movements, he yanked her hands down and cuffed her wrists, winding some furry material around them and knotting it. When she lifted her head up, trying to look over her shoulder at her captor, he shoved her head back down, shifting so his body was stretched over hers from head to toe.

Her cheek was ground into the dead leaves and dirt and the scent of decaying plants tickled her nose. She clenched her teeth, desperately fighting the urge to sneeze. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“Protecting you, woman.”

“Protecting me? Are you crazy? Get off me and give me back my rifle! Achoo!” The sneeze exploded with such violence her face slammed into the ground, with her nose taking the brunt.

“Quiet.”

Her eyes watered as searing pain spread across her cheeks but before she had time to complain, she was distracted by the unmistakable pressure of his hard cock pressing against her ass. “Listen, buddy. I’m not interested in that kind of action,” she protested, suddenly wriggling fiercely as she tried to throw him off.

A spicy unfamiliar scent drifted past her nose when he nipped her ear with his teeth. “Then be still or I might get the idea that you are interested. I find your ass very attractive.”

She froze, barely breathing, snuffling softly through the trickle of blood that dribbled from her nose.

He leaned forward, his cock pressing harder in the crevice between her legs as his heavy muscled chest flattened her on the ground. With a low grunt, he reached for the rifle.

Her heart stopped and stuttered before racing into a pounding gallop. The hand that touched the rifle was blue. Not tattooed. Not blue-tinged, but blue. Slowly her gaze moved up the muscular arm attached to the strange hand. Blue. Unmistakably blue. What kind of alien had captured her?

“What is this place?” She whimpered breathlessly.

A shrill whistle came from the right and he leaped to his feet, easily hauling her up by one arm to face him. “Welcome to Mystic Valley.”

Risking a serious crick in her neck, Poussé looked up at the strange male towering over her. She beheld a warrior straight from a fantasy, barbaric and terrifying. Delicately pointed ears peeked through the curtain of narrow shining black braids that streamed down over powerful shoulders covered by a creamy sleeveless woolen wrapped shirt. His bared biceps were tattooed with black stylized running antelopes and his cobalt blue eyes tilted up, reminding her of a great cat. A beguiling smile curved his soft lips—beguiling until she noticed the sharp fangs. Her body shook under the firm pressure of his huge hand on her shoulder.

“Ah, none of that,” he said sternly. “Surely you are not afraid? A woman warrior?”

“What are you?” Her voice trembled even while she completed her rapid survey of the warrior before her. Strong thighs flexed beneath the dark green plain kilt that did nothing to hide his blatant erection. Laces from his short soft boots wound up his legs until they reached the four knives with elaborate ornamental handles, sheathed two on each calf. This was no play warrior, but the real deal. “What are you?” she repeated.

“I am a warrior and guardian in the valley. And you are my prisoner. Come.” Guiding her with one hand on her shoulder, he led her out of the woods. As they walked along the bank of a wide river, she jerked away, racing down the path. He might have her rifle, but she wasn’t completely unarmed. All she had to do was escape. As she pounded head-long around a clump of bushes, she barreled straight into another tall blue-skinned man waiting next to a stone bench.

“What have we here, Jonson?” he inquired as he wrapped a muscular arm around her waist.

She turned and twisted, trying to break free. Were all of the men here giants, she wondered? “Let me go!”

“She’s one of the intruders,” Jonson replied dryly as he easily plucked her from the man and handed her rifle to him in exchange. “She was creeping through the brush behind the school.”

“Really.” The man inspected her rifle, rested it against his shoulder and inquired, “What is your name?”

“Poussé Midnight.”

A smile tugged at the second man’s lips. “Indeed. Pussy Midnight. What kind of name is that?”

She ground her teeth in outrage. “Poo-say! Not pussy.” She scowled at the men. “Where is the rest of my team?”

“Most of them have been captured and are on their way to a holding at Bell’s Corner. Since you’re our responsibility, you’ll have come with us.”

“I don’t think so. I know my rights,” she stormed. “I demand you return me to my team.”

“You’re in the valley now. You must abide by our laws.” He patted the rifle and shot her a sly grin. “Possession of such a weapon is forbidden.”

“What?” Poussé stiffened in outrage. “I want to speak to the person in charge!”

“That’s not possible at the moment. You will have to deal with me.”

“Who the hell are you?”

“I am Mali of Lost Market.”

“And you’re not exactly in charge, right?”

“For now, in this situation, I am in charge. Merlyn Llewellyn, clan chief of Lost Market, is very busy.”

She was suddenly light-headed as the blood drained from her brain. “Llewellyn? That’s not possible.”

Something or someone crashed through the woods behind them. Mali turned to stare intently back down the path. “Another of the intruders is headed this way. Jonson, take her away.”

Gripping Poussé’s arm, Jonson tugged her along the path, away from Mali. “As long as you’re sure you won’t need any help!”

“I was wondering if you’ll be able to manage the young lady all by yourself!” Poussé stared over her shoulder at the mocking stranger. A gentle smile played across Mali’s face. Then she saw his eyes drop to the front of Jonson’s kilt. With a raised eyebrow he added, “If you feel that Miss Midnight will be more than you can handle, we’ll find someone else to assign to her care…”

“No.” Jonson straightened up and moved on, but he looked over his shoulder, meeting Mali’s eyes. “Just remember that some things come back to bite you in the ass.”

“I’m counting on it. Now take her away. Llyon will arrive shortly to check her injuries. Try to take better care of her in the meantime.”

Jonson gestured toward the path that wound past a high cliff jutting out nearly into the river. “This way, woman.”

“Hey! Give my weapon back,” Poussé objected while she watched the path they were taking, trying to absorb as much of their surroundings as possible. She intended to make her way back the cave where they entered the valley as soon as possible.

“It will be safe with Mali.” Firming his grasp on her arm, he started walking faster, leaving her no choice but to follow at a quick-time march.

Stubbornly, she refused to ask him to slow down. The path curved away from the river, crossing a wide meadow. Uneasily, she searched the area around them in vain for signs of civilization. Then she sighted the solitary stone house on the rocky bench above a glassy gray lake. “Slow down, dammit! You might have legs like a giraffe, but I don’t!”

“Giraffe?” he questioned absently as he tugged her toward the stone steps. “Is that some out-valley animal?”

“Out-valley?”

“Where you came from,” he clarified, gesturing vaguely toward the surrounding cliffs. “I have heard there are many strange animals there.”

“Yeah. It’s a tall skinny animal with spots and a neck that’s almost as long as its legs. And by the way, you’re a lot uglier than it is.” When they reached the little house she dug in her heels again. “I’m not going in there,” she declared flatly.

“Why not?”

“I don’t trust you.” One moment she was standing in front of him, mulishly refusing to move. The next she was upside down, slung over his shoulder, her head bouncing against the woolie vest covering his broad back while he strode impatiently up the rough steps. “Uh, Jonson?”

“Yes?”

“I’m gonna kill you when I get these cuffs off.”

“You are free to try.” He smacked her curvy butt when she tried to wriggle free. “Be still.”

“Put me down!”

“I don’t wish to. This is much quicker.” He fiddled with the latch before shoving the door open.

She tilted her head sideways, trying to catch a glimpse at their surroundings. Mostly what caught her eye was the enticing way his firm ass moved beneath the loose fabric of his kilt. She had to admit that the man was built. Seriously built. That didn’t mean she wasn’t going to kill him. She would just have a few lingering regrets. That’s all. “Ya know if you wanted to kill me, you didn’t have to drag me this far away. The woods would have done just fine.”

“Why would I kill you? That would be a waste of female potential. No, it would be much better to keep you busy having my babies.” He emphasized his point by gently massaging her firm bottom.

“Get your hands off me!”

“You’re not moving like a woman who wants to be left alone.”

Immediately, she stilled, barely breathing. Jonson set her carefully on her feet and stepped back. She lost no time in bringing her knee up toward his crotch.

He avoided the knee, but not the hard boot that she brought back down squarely on his toes. Correctly assessing her plans for escape, he tripped her as she leaped past him, taking her to the floor where he rolled her onto her stomach and sat on her butt while he removed his boot and knives, gingerly checking his abused toes for damage.

“Son of a bitch! Get off me!”

“I am not a fool!” he snarled as he cradled his screaming toes in his hand. “You’ve done enough damage for now.” His toes burning, Jonson cautiously touched them, checking for fractures. When she nearly unseated him again, he grabbed her nearest ankle and set to work on the boot laces. She wasn’t going to need shoes while she was in the cottage, anyway. By the time he removed both boots and socks, he felt like he’d been fighting a nest of grimahrs.

He eyed the laces in the boots, then with a brisk nod, he swiftly pulled them loose. In a few moments he was in the possession of two strong lengths of cord. Some slick moves and determination were required but shortly, he sat back and surveyed his captive with deep satisfaction. Her feet were secured to the bottom of the heavy corner post that supported the foot of the high bed in the outer room and her wrists, stretched over her head, were fastened to the bottom of the other corner post.

Poussé was screaming loud enough for them to hear her in Bell’s Corner. Jonson wasn’t too concerned. His toes were on fire and the witch who had set them burning was rolling around on the floor. After examining his scrapes and bruises , he smacked her on the butt. “Quiet! If you keep screaming, you will tempt me to give you something to scream about!” he barked.

“Like what?” she sneered. “You think I’m afraid of you just because I’m a girl?”

Jonson got to his feet and hobbled to the table and chairs situated in front of the empty hearth. Jerking a chair out, he sat down and thoughtfully stared at his captive while he shrugged off his woolie shera, absently noting the bloody smears on the back from her nosebleed. Thanks to Mali’s odd sense of humor and cunning scheming, she was his responsibility. Though he was reluctantly impressed by her show of bravado, he was fairly sure she was more frightened than she wanted him to know.

From the moment he put his hands on her, he’d determined to claim her as bond mate for Mali and himself. Mali wasn’t so sure about their need for a woman—any woman as a mate. An out-valley woman would certainly require many adjustments. For two barter credits he would drag her to the bonding circle and settle the question for good. Of course there was the minor difficulty of getting her to agree to a permanent bonding because no individual could be forced, but he wouldn’t worry about that right now.

First he had to eliminate her chances for a successful escape. After that he could worry about convincing her to take the vows with Mali and him. With a faint smile, he unsheathed one of his flicknives and stood up. It seemed to him she had on entirely too many clothes.

Fangs glinting with wicked anticipation, he stood up, immediately capturing her attention. Poussé swallowed hard.

Jonson saw the way that fear tightened her muscles, but she’d already demonstrated her willingness to do almost anything to escape. Though she believed she was tough there were dangers in the wild parts of the valley that she was unaware of—dangers that could lead to her death in an instant. With an inward sigh, he approached his captive, rolled her onto her belly and slit her shirt up the back. He zipped the sharp flicknife down the outer seams on her pants and stood up. With two jerks she was undressed, leaving her in a soft gray garment that covered her breasts and another that covered her pussy and generous bottom.

She had closed her eyes at the first rending of fabric and now lay still on the floor. Jonson pressed his lips together in thought. After a moment, he undid the cords knotted around the bedposts, lifted her up and tossed her onto the high bed. She was moving before she landed, but he anticipated her moves this time by leaping on the bed with her.

Sprawled across her body, his heavy muscles pinned her in place. He captured her cuffed wrists and stretched her arms out above her head where he refastened the cuffs to a metal ring embedded in the heavy headboard. With a tired sigh, he rolled from the bed, gathered up her shredded clothing and limped over to the chair by the fire.

Keenly aware she watched in horror, he went through all the pockets, easily discovering the hidden weapons. Ignoring her frenzied attempts to escape the cord tied around her wrists, he built a fire in the hearth with slow deliberation. When a healthy blaze flickered from the small logs, he fed her clothing to the fire, one piece at a time until it was nothing but a pile of embers.

As he finished stirring the ashes to make sure there was nothing left, a soft knock at the door heralded the arrival of a visitor. Jonson hobbled to the door and admitted a man with long fiery red braids. “Llyon! Any news?”

“The invaders are all captured. I am here to check your prisoner.” Llyon’s eyebrows shot up when he took in the woman tied to the bed. “Trouble?”

Jonson snorted in disgust. “Check my toes and then ask me that again. She’s completely uncivilized. What do they do to their females out-valley?”

Llyon studied Jonson’s swollen toes, then knelt to check them for fractures. Jonson breathed shallowly as he felt the warm tingling of a healer plying his talent. In a few moments, the pain was gone. When Llyon finished, he stood up and stretched before approaching the bed. After a brief visual check of her obvious injuries, he smiled reassuringly. “I will examine you,” he calmly explained. “I can do so while you are awake. Or I can put you to sleep. Which do you prefer?”

“If you touch me, I will kill you.”

“Ah? Asleep then.” When he reached out to touch her, she snarled at him, lunging against her bonds, snapping her teeth at him. Adroitly, he avoided her attack, touching her lightly on her forehead, and seconds later she dropped into a sound sleep.

New Lily Harlem Release from Ellora's Cave

2010-12-17T09:16:00.003-05:00

Line: Moderne

Book Length: Novel

Book Type: eBook

Publisher: Ellora's Cave Publishing

ISBN: 9781419929793

MSRP/List Price: $11.90
Our Cover Price: $5.95

Blurb:

One hundred grand to babysit bad boy Logan “Phoenix” Taylor on a paradise island—seriously, how bad could he be?

Frankly, it didn’t matter. Not when it would make my dreams of going to nursing school possible. I wasn’t even expected to talk to him, just hang out in a luxurious villa on a private beach and study. Simple, right?

But I hadn’t counted on Logan being so deliciously bad that he was oh so good. And when the temperature cranked to boiling point, he knew just how to satisfy the deepest, darkest part of my soul and give my body exactly what it needed. Amongst the sand and waves, we transported each other to an exquisite world of pleasure where only we existed, only we mattered.

But the heady mix of emotions and lust couldn’t keep things from spiraling out of control back in reality, where I had to keep the secret that I’d been hired to entertain him…even if it shattered my delicate heart. Even if it cost my destiny.

Excerpt:

A palm tree overhead creaked ominously and I scurried closer into his side, wrapping my other hand around his thick biceps as I glanced upward.

“It’s okay,” he said, releasing my hand and circling my waist with his arm. “It won’t fall on you.” He dragged me against his body, urging me more quickly through the sand.

I found myself taking two paces to his one and within minutes we were climbing onto the deck. Shifting sand danced around the table and chair legs. The pillows and cushions from the bed had rolled to the floor and were tumbling about in the golden dust and lodging in leaves and branches. The parasol clattered against the table, the pole lifting up from the floor and threatening to take off into the sky.

“You grab the cushions,” Logan called over the noise of the flapping shrubbery. “I’ll anchor down the parasol.”

Unlocking the door to the living area, I grabbed three pillows and chucked them inside. I went back for the other three then tumbled in, half shutting the door behind myself. My hair was wild, my cheeks stung and my heart pounded as I caught my breath.

I watched Logan close the umbrella and secure the pole into place. He glanced around, shading his eyes with his hand, checking for anything else that might blow away, then headed my way with a train of dry, flat leaves skittering past his feet. I opened the door wide to let him through. He stepped in, still squinting against the dust, as I pushed the door shut with a loud click. The world went silent. After the howling wind and the roaring sea, the quiet of the house was acute and heavy and fell around us like a dense cloak.

Leaning back against the door, I pulled in a deep breath. “Made it,” I gasped.

“Yeah,” he said, stepping up close—real close.

When I looked up, his cheeks were stained red, several grains of sand hung in his long lashes and his hair was tousled and dusted with gold. “Is that everything tied down?” I asked, trying to ignore my breasts heaving against my halter-top.

“Well, almost everything,” he said with a decidedly carnal grin.

I swallowed and flattened my palms against the cool glass door behind me. “What else do you need to tie down?”

The right side of his mouth creased upward and his brows gave the tiniest of twitches. “I’d quite like to tie you down,” he said, his gaze coming to rest on my mouth. “To the bed.”

Licking my lips, I tasted salt. My stomach knotted as excitement, anticipation and sin collided in a delicious tangle.

“But I guess that’s moving a bit fast,” he murmured, bending his head lower. “We only just met.”

“A bit fast for me,” I agreed, absorbing the burning heat from his body as it radiated against mine.

“Brooke.” He raised one hand and rested it against the wooden doorframe by my left ear. His body moved in closer still. The gorgeous spiced aftershave he wore invaded my nostrils and settled not just on my tongue but somewhere else deep inside me. “Do you remember when you walked out of the water yesterday?” he asked in a low, rumbling voice.

“Yes.” How could I forget the toe-curling embarrassment? He’d stared silently toward me as I’d ambled up the beach, trying desperately to look cool and unflustered. I felt my cheeks warming further at the memory as my stomach twisted.

“It was a million times better than any Bond movie.”

“It was?”

“Hell, yeah. If they had you as a Bond girl it would be my favorite film by miles. Not just 007, but in general, any film ever.” His mouth slid upward in a grin. “You just about blew my mind.”

“I did?” My eyes widened in surprise. He’d liked what he’d seen, and I thought he’d been unimpressed with my curvy attributes.

“Oh, yeah, and other parts of my anatomy.”

He ducked his head, his lips a whisper from mine. I could almost taste the salt on his mouth.

“Well, we wouldn’t want that would we, Logan?” I murmured.

“Wouldn’t we?” His brows raised.

“Sounds painful.” I swallowed, my throat felt tight.

“It’s already getting painful.” He shifted his weight to the other foot. We were so close now my breast brushed against his chest and my nipples, which had tightened to hard pinched peaks, scraped against him.

I reached up to touch his jaw, his bristles catching on my fingertips. Our gazes connected and I rose onto the balls of my feet and pressed my mouth to his.

He opened up and took immediate control of the kiss. He tasted so good—man and ocean, wind and sun—he tasted of everything I was missing in my life and had been for so long. My hands moved to his shoulders and squeezed hard muscles through his soft cotton shirt. The tip of his tongue probed farther into my mouth, shooting desire into every fiber I possessed. My tongue searched for his and began to explore his mouth.

Logan groaned and let go of the doorframe, cradling the base of my skull in his palm and winding his other arm around my waist. He pulled me close and as the length of our bodies touched, right in the very center of my abdomen, he pressed his steely erection forward. He was right, he was painfully hard.

“Damn, you taste good,” he murmured, trailing a gentle kiss across my cheek.

I tipped my head back and let him explore the base of my ear, the angle of my jaw and the hollow of my throat. “I taste like salt,” I said.

“You taste of the beach and flowers and coconut,” he whispered between kisses. “The most delicious combination of flavors I’ve ever experienced.” He pulled back slightly, slipping his fingertips under the shoulders of my cardigan and easing it down my arms. It fell to the floor and he slid his palms back up over my elbows to the base of my neck. Each tiny section of flesh he touched came alive with sensation and pricked with greedy little goose bumps searching out his caress. I found his mouth again and ran my fingers into the collar-length hair at the nape of his neck. I pulled his head to mine harder. I wanted more. Much more.

His big fingers were busy, fiddling with the knot at the back of my halter-top. It was cleverly designed with a fitted bra, it had cost a fortune but was well worth it. I felt it slipping free and pulled back from the kiss, crossing my arm over my chest and gripping my opposite shoulder to hold it in place.

“What’s the matter?” Logan asked, his eyes heavy with desire and his voice thick with lust.

“I’m…I’m big,” I said in a rush then felt silly for saying something so insecure and obvious.

“Me too,” he said, a provocative grin playing on his mouth. “Relax, Brooke, it’s all good, trust me.”

Amazon Banning Books

2010-12-13T12:56:00.003-05:00

I blogged during book banning week about how much I hate it. I also stated on that blog that there was a big distributor that had some book titles up that I found personally disgusting, too, and that I dreaded the day I'd have to defend those books.

A while ago someone forwarded some information to me in which it was stated that several authors were having their books removed by Amazon due to having an incest theme. I followed the link I was given and discovered that some of those books may also have some issues with the age of consent as well.

It seems that Amazon also wiped these books clean from Kindles as well. And for that--Amazon should refund every dime. That's a given right there.

Now for the tricky part. Do I do what this forwarded email asks everyone to do---contact the head of Amazon and the board of directors in protest or simply let Amazon have at it. I mean, hell, I'd never read one of those books. Does the author have the right to write them? You bet. Does the author have the right to offer them for sale? You bet.

Does the author have the right to dictate to Amazon that it must sell their book? No. Amazon has the right to refuse service. And those authors and their readers have the right to never purchase another book from Amazon.

So, on the one hand I support those authors and their right to create the books they choose. I also support the readers decision to read whatever material they like. But at the same time, I can't support forcing a company to sell anything they don't want to sell. Does that support book banning? No, it doesn't. Just as you stop into one store and find adult magazines for sale, you might stop into another store and notice none there.

We're dealing with a business here, not a public library or school.

You always hear "It's a free country." Well, yeah, to an extent. You're free and your actions are unrestricted as long as you don't infringe upon anyone else's rights.

Amazon should have stricter content guidelines. And Amazon should ban all books with illegal content if that is what this is all about and not just pick and choose. I'm still not really clear on the why of it as the authors in question say they've been given no specific reason at this time--other than the fact that Amazon reserves the right to decide. And that IS their right.

So what do we do, people? Storm the gates of Amazon and tell them we're never going to buy another book from them if they don't sell these books? And if we do, are we saying that there could never be a case of a book going too far? Is the saying "Any book worth banning is a book worth reading" really true? What's your opinion on all this?

Add Some Sparkle Contest

2010-12-12T15:14:00.003-05:00

Having yet another contest at Love Romances Cafe. This time I'm giving away a pair of chandelier-styled earrings. They are very festive and sparkle like mad. Very nice to wear this time of year for sure. http://groups.yahoo.com/group/loveromancescafe

To enter simply reply to the post on Love Romances Cafe with ADD SOME SPARKLE CONTEST in the subject line. Reply ONLY to the contest post. Entries in separate posts will
not count. Just say hi to me in the post or comment on the earrings. Easy.
This contest closes at 8 p.m. EST tonight.

Giving Away Apple Martini Mixer and Decanter

2010-12-12T13:45:00.005-05:00

Now this is really something I love---APPLE MARTINIS. Now I can't give you the booze
to go along with it. lol But I can give you this adorable Glass Slipper filled with Apple Martini
Mixer. It's a pretty good size decanter--about 8 inches tall (collectible) and holds 9 oz of
mixer.

I'm at Love Romances Cafe giving away this cute gift. All you have to do to enter is reply
to the post on the group. http://groups.yahoo.com/group/loveromancescafe
Just say Hi or comment about the decanter. Easy. Don't reply in a separate post. You MUST
piggy back off the contest post with CONTEST--Glass Slipper with Apple Martini Mixer
in the subject line only.

This contest closes at 7 p.m. tonight.

Contest for Heart-Shaped Pin at Midnight Seductions Today

2010-12-12T13:19:00.002-05:00

I'm giving away a heart-shaped pin today at the Midnight Seductions Authors Third Anniversary
Bash today. http://groups.yahoo.com/group/midnightseductions

Stop by. All you have to do to enter is simply post to the contest post (piggyback off that post--separate posts will not be accepted as a valid entry) and leave me a comment or just say HI on
the post ON the group. Do not comment here on the blog. Only to the contest post for the Pin
on the Midnight Seductions group. You'll see Contest To Win Heart-Shaped Pin in the subject line.

Contest closes at 6 pm EST tonight.

Ed Hardy Candle Giveaway at Love Romances Cafe

2010-12-12T13:05:00.005-05:00

I'm giving away this set of candles at Love Romances Cafe.
Find the post with Contest to Win Ed Hardy
Candle Set in the subject line. Simply piggyback off of it and say hi or comment and that's all you have
to do to enter.

Contest closes at 6 p.m. EST tonight.

More contests to follow...

It's the Favorite Things Christmas Giveaway presented by Destiny Blaine
and Dawn Roberto of Love Romances Cafe.

http://groups.yahoo.com/loveromancescafe

Big Chats Tomorrow

2010-12-11T16:04:00.002-05:00

I'll be at Love Romances Cafe for the big
Destiny Blaine and Friends Annual Favorite Things Christmas Giveaway...at Love Romances Cafe (http://groups.yahoo.com/group/loveromancescafe)

Details of chat here> http://tessmackall.blogspot.com/2010/12/destiny-blaine-and-friends-annual.html

AND

I'll be at the Midnight Seductions Authors Group for our big annual birthday bash. Our group is three years old this holiday season.

http://groups.yahoo.com/group/midnightseductions

So stop by and join me at both chats.

I've got lots of great prizes lined up to give away for sure.

Happy Holidays, everyone!

Destiny Blaine and Friends Annual Favorite Things Christmas Giveaway!

2010-12-10T09:52:00.004-05:00

I'll be there, will you? Don't miss out on the chance to win and win big!
I'm giving away ome really cool stuff. I know others are,too.
But not telling what!
You have to stop by to find out what Join in all the chatter.
Have some fun with us!

You are cordially invited to THE EVENT of the Season when Destiny Blaine and all her friends take over the Love Romances Café Loop for a fun-filled day of books, gifts, and more.

It’s time for--

Destiny Blaine and Friends
Annual Favorite Things Christmas Giveaway

DATE: December 12th, 2010
TIME: 9 AM EST start time till ???
WHERE: LR Café Loop (http://groups.yahoo.com/group/loveromancescafe)

Some of Destiny’s Friends popping in this day and giving away a few of their favorite things are:

Gianna Bruno
Giselle Renard
Melody Layne
Sayde Grace
Natalie Acres
Addison Avery
Christina James
James Hatch
Sam Cheever
Bethany Gaines
Skylar Sinclair
Lex Valentine
Ariel Tachna
Eternal Press
Damnation Publishing
Realms of Fantasy Magazine
Sandy Sullivan
Selena Illyria
Lizzie T. Leaf
Whispers Publishing
Selena Kitt
Cammie Eicher
Trinity Blancio
Tess MacKall
Cynthia R. Arsuaga
Secret Cravings Publishing
Dark Castle Lords
Changeling Press
Samhain Publishing
Siren-Bookstrand
Manlove Romance/Passion In Print
Aspen Mountain Press
Evernight Publishing
Tabitha Shay
Michele Hart
Laura Tolomei
JJ Keller
Jenika Snow
Kiki Howell
Jennifer Campbell
Desiree Holt
Ginger Simpson
Jessica Freely
Nicole Morgan
Jillian Chantal
Barrie Abalard
Christie Gordan
Missy Martine
Plus over 100 more authors and publishers will be around this day as well.

Readers, authors and publishers are giving away their FAVORITE THINGS, and you’re invited to come on out and see what you can win because a lot of winners will go home with their arms loaded down with prizes. If you aren’t a member of Love Romances Café, go to
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/loveromancescafe/ and join now.

So come on over to the LR Café December 12th and party with Destiny and her friends. It looks like Christmas will be coming early for her readers.
Will it be one of you?

I WON! I WON!

2010-12-02T11:44:00.005-05:00

I woke up this morning to an email I really didn't expect to get. I'd entered Destiny Blaine's Breakfast by the Sea Contest--the namesake of her new release: Breakfast by the Sea now out with Siren Publishing http://www.bookstrand.com/breakfast-by-the-sea --and had pretty much forgotten about it.

I don't think I've ever entered but one or two contests. Heck, I never buy scratch tickets and only occasionally buy lottery tickets. My brother keeps telling me you have to play to win, but I just keep thinking it's all just a waste of time.

Well, imagine my surprise when I woke up to this email from Destiny telling me I'd won! It was 5:00 a.m. and I was barely awake. I shook my head a couple of times. Yeah, I must have looked like a cartoon character doing that. But hells bells, I've never won anything. You could have knocked me over with a feather.

I guess my brother is right, you've got to play to win.

I was especially interested in entering this contest because it was for one week of accommodations at either the Bayview Resort in Myrtle Beach, S.C. or to Jekyll Island, Ga. Myrtle Beach is my family's favorite vacation spot and only a couple of hours from where we live, so I know we'll end up choosing it. But I'll discuss it with them just in case.

One more thing. I also get to have Breakfast by the Sea with Destiny in Myrtle Beach when we go. And that's the part I'm looking forward to most. Getting to meet her will be great. We all have so many online friends but it's rare we do get to see each other in real life. And I plan to give her a big hug.

So I want to thank Destiny for such a wonderful prize and also thank her for writing such a great book. I really enjoyed Breakfast by the Sea. I'm so looking forward to meeting her in person and enjoying a week by the sea with my family.

Big hug to you, Destiny! Visit Destiny's website for a look at all the great books she's written. http://destinyblaine.com

Jingle Bell Rockin' With Three Wicked Writers Plus Two

2010-11-30T14:28:00.003-05:00

Tomorrow is December 1 and all month long at Three Wicked Writers Plus Two we'll be giving away a little something for each and every blog post. Books, gift certificates, etc. Madison Scott will kick off our month-long Jingle Bell Rockin' celebration.

So make sure you stop by any day this month and leave us a comment to enter. In addition to our giveaway, we'll be sharing all of our favorite holiday memories and inviting readers and writers alike to share theirs too.

So grab your hot chocolate, spiced apple cider, or egg nog, lol, and join us for a month of great memories and fellowship with one another.

Click HERE to join us or click on the pic on the right side bar!

What Do Readers Really Think

2010-11-22T13:07:00.002-05:00

I'm over at Three Wicked Writers Plus Two today and I'm discussing readers and what they think of promotions. Tomorrow, Regina Carlysle will post about what readers want in so far as book content is concerned.

These two back-to-back posts should make for some very interesting discussion. Stop by when you have the chance. Readers and authors are definitely welcome. Please, comment with your opinions. We'd love to hear from you.

http://threewickedwriters.blogspot.com/2010/11/what-readers-really-think.html

Answering A Lady's Call

2010-11-21T19:58:00.004-05:00

Do you like erotic poetry? Erotic romance author and poet, R. Paul Sardanas, allowed me the honor of collaborating on a poem with him. I'd love to know what you think of our creation. In addition to the poem, our friend, Samarel, of Samarel Art http://samarelart.com gifted us with the usage of one of his beautiful works of art to go along with the poem. To learn more about Paul and his writings, visit his website:http://rpaulsardanas.com Pick up a copy of his most recent release, a tantalizing tale of love and lust, The Order of the Golden Rose, which you can find at almost any online venue including Amazon. Thanks for reading.

Answering a Lady's Call

by Tess MacKall and R. Paul Sardanas

An unguarded moment rouses desire from its slumber.

She moves, most subtly, as he lies beside her.

Wrapped in gossamer threads of chastity, she stretches,

Memory of the unspeaking language of their bodies stirs,

breaking through her cocoon of denial.

tearing away all complexity of thought.

Uncertain, she touches the loosed cords that have imprisoned her.

Hesitant, he feels warmth flow to his hands, long cold.

Consent long ago given, now disavowed.

Want, once spontaneous, becomes a tortured path.

She parts her lips in awakening and her amber colored whispers beckon.

Her voice of soft desire comes to him in accents of dream.

In twilight, she waits.

He touches her hair, and walls of empty night fall away.

Ever susceptible to his caress, coral hues of sun-risen desire curls through her body, and pool at her woman’s center.

From the edge of sleep, he feels a tremulous wonder at the return of an almost painful heat.

A moment of clarity intrudes, a bitter reminder of her discontent.

Is she dreaming of him? How sweet that would be, and he almost prays for wakeful thought between them to blur, to stay gently buried in a mist of half-remembrance.

Torn, her body grows taut with the shame of her weakness and passion’s ache shimmers in its pearled essence of winter, refusing to surrender.

If he should speak, he knows he will no longer be a memory of love and hunger; her eyes are tightly shut, he is afraid that they will open, but he wants to see the look he once lived for in their depths.

Desire given voice, a small cry falls from her lips as slender tendrils of need ask for his charity.

They hang on a thread, woven of heart’s sound, until he hears her call; so small, so wrenching in its muted cadence of want.

And forgiveness finds its path.

He knows, and it floods into him with frightening joy, that the night has taken them deep again.

The darkened places of her heart dance with wild abandon, unfurling a scarlet ribbon of desire.

He gasps, echo to her own call, and when he breathes in, he is filled with the scent of her, ripping into a core of purest need that he cannot believe he had ever sealed, and put away.

In the long breath he takes, she hears the splendorous chorus of lost passion found, and trembles with the unexpected truth.

His hand is shaking, as his fingers run through her hair, then to the warm arc of her cheek, and the corner of her mouth.

He still wants her. She still needs him.

Her lips open, then close around his fingertip.

As morning blossoms lift their faces to the sun, she turns, gathering his hands to her breast.

When she turns to him, takes his hands, and he feels the beating of her heart beneath her breast, he remembers life. It is in the warmth of her skin, in the moist trace her mouth has left on his finger.

Her endless night glistens wet with unspoken apology and basks in the radiance of acceptance.

How could he have let himself forget this? Regret for nights that should have had no end lodges in his throat, and is transformed through the silent eloquence of his tongue, placing it to her areola; rising, to kiss the hollow of her neck.

She arches into the heat of his sunlit kiss as she presses her woman’s center into the curve of his hip and wraps her leg around his. Her body had not forgotten. Only the mind suffers.

When they were new together, and desire was uncontrollable, the simple pressure of her leg against him would have gone unnoticed. A ripple, on the face of a flood. Now it fans him to an intensity of desire beyond anything in the memory of youth.

She cries out with need for the touch and feel of what she thought lost, now found. The lines between lust and love blur and knowing him again is all that matters.

Her cry wrenches something in his soul. He wants to say “I never stopped wanting you. To be inside you is everything.” But as he enters her now, she breathes out two words. Did she truly say “love me”? He answers, with his body, with his own breath, with his soul.

She wants to tell him how much she loves him, how much she’s missed him—missed this. But for now it will be enough to feel him inside of her. To once again understand she belongs and is wanted, needed, loved. Her winter is at end.

He doesn’t know what the hours will bring, what tomorrow will bring. He knows just one thing in the warmth of this moment. Love didn’t end. Lost and silent, even hopeless…it rested. And yearned, all unspoken, for healing. His long, cold night transformed.

Tonight, sweet night, a call is answered, and they will sleep in the other’s arms.

Breakfast by the Sea by Destiny Blaine

2010-11-17T13:18:00.005-05:00

Jekyll Island is on Red Alert: These Tough and Sexy Operatives Will Leave the Island Forever Changed

On rare occasions, a writer will pen something they can’t seem to leave behind after they type out the ending. Breakfast by the Sea is one of those books. Jeff Jacobsen, the lead Alpha-male hero in the novel is forever embedded in my mind. The story, the characters, and the setting will remain in my head for years to come.

When writing a ménage romance with more than two heroes, I tend to lean toward one of these fellows right from the start, but after reviewing my notes for the novel, I never thought this would be an obstacle in this particular novel and for various reasons.

When the characters were developed, I fell in love with each of these men, feeling like they were the boys next door. These operatives were cowboys with plenty of heart. They were willing to take up arms and fight for what they believe in and more than willing to die for the person they were standing beside, especially when one of their own, a brother more than a friend, counted on them for their protection.

As much as I tried to keep Jeff Jacobsen on common ground with the others, he kept pressing his way to the forefront and mainly because there was so much story to tell about his past; too much to reveal and a lot of layers to uncover. The man behind the operative chased the demons he desperately needed to overcome and once Paige revealed her place in his life, I was toast. Jeff was mine.

Even though Jeff Jacobsen emerged as the leading hero, Callan O’Bree won over several beta readers from the start. He was noted as the perfect Irishman—handsome, charming, and full of mischief. Miles is said to be intelligent with a dry sense of humor certain to win over his own crowd. As for Adam, our fearless Super-Ops leader, he has a definite fan club for various reasons. I can’t reveal those without giving away a few spoilers.

In the end, I think readers will be very surprised at the turn of events between Paige Lambert, our heroine, and Connor, one of the heroes who could’ve easily emerged as our leading man. The way the tables turn between Connor and Paige is one of my favorite parts in the story. I think you’ll see the underlying significance of their relationship and agree, the final scene between Paige and Connor lays the groundwork for an incredibly sweet happy ending.

I’m proud of Breakfast by the Sea and hope you’ll consider purchasing this book while it’s on sale at a tremendous 15% savings. I’m anxious to introduce ‘my boys’ to you and hope you’ll love them as much as I do. Breakfast by the Sea is available today at Siren-Bookstrand.

Destiny Blaine/Natalie Acres

http://www.bookstrand.com/destiny-blaine

http://www.bookstrand.com/natalie-acres

Natalie Acres is one of the pseudonyms for Destiny Blaine. Natalie’s books Sex Party, Sex Games, and Cowboy Boots and Untamed Hearts became the #1 Best Selling Erotica and #1 Best Selling Western books on Amazon soon after their initial release dates . Destiny Blaine’s western ménage books Domination Plantation (Aspen Mountain Press) and A Matter Among Four (Siren Publishing) have captured and claimed best selling spots on various third party retailers. Destiny Blaine is also credited for being one of the first authors of sports romance. Her sports romance books are available now at Siren-Bookstrand.

Blurb for Breakfast by the Sea:

A beautiful woman with a checkered past runs a legitimate bed and breakfast on Jekyll Island. Several young men posing as cowboys move in Breakfast by the Sea and things become chaotic right from the start when the oceanfront B&B turns into a command center for a very determined group of special Super-Op Forces.

Pursuing a man known as the King of Hearts, five tough operatives fall for a woman they’re supposed to eliminate. When the team discovers Paige Lambert is in fact the Queen of Hearts, they can’t ignore their handler’s orders. Is the bed and breakfast owner destined to die for her past crimes or will she end up under the protective custody of the men hired to kill her?

Excerpt One for Breakfast by the Sea:

He felt like he’d just laid eyes on her for the first time. He started at her chin, noticing the way the dark brown hair curved under her jaw, a lock of hair so delicate but there nonetheless, like it was clinging for dear life. Was that what Paige was doing? Was she frightened? Was she running scared?

His gaze traveled down her long, slender neck. He admired how she held her head high, the structure of her slender collarbone leading to a bare chest with plenty for a man to enjoy. Before he indulged too much, Paige knelt down and retrieved her clothes, shrugging into a sports bra, one she had to yank over those full mounds in order to secure them.

Damn. She was right. Snapping that neck of hers would be a terrible waste.

That’s when his mouth watered. Why hadn’t he gawked when she’d been topless? And why did he find her sexy as all fucking hell right then?

Her flat stomach made him itch. He’d love to kiss around her sunken belly button and insinuate a slow sex act, make her arch for him, beg him for more.

Finally, he studied the band of her shorts. What he’d give to lick and tease his way a little lower, strip away those shorts and show her what she’d been missing. Maybe in her body, he’d find what he’d been looking for all along. Perhaps he needed to fuck a woman he wasn’t later expected to kill. Then again, he couldn’t be so sure that order wouldn’t come.

Stop thinking!

“Is something wrong?” she asked, batting her eyelashes.

“No,” he replied, storming ahead of her. Suddenly, he wondered why she followed him then when she hadn’t trailed behind him before. He stopped, turned around, and shook his finger again. “Don’t you dare run. I’d like to have breakfast before we do that again.”

“Okay,” she said, catching up and walking beside him. “Want to answer my question now?”

“Which one?”

“How can you keep up with me?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” he growled.

“I’m asking.”

“I’m in great shape.”

“I can tell.”

Jeff stopped at the bottom of the steps. “Is that you coming on to me?”

She sashayed by him. “No, Jeff. That was me trying to figure out how I can outrun you next time.”

“There won’t be a next time,” he told her, grabbing her from behind and slamming her against the steps, bracing her back with his large hands.

His breath matched hers. The move knocked the wind out of both of them.

“Now what?”

“I’m not going to kiss you,” he said, thinking he wouldn’t put up much of a fight if she laid one on him.

She moistened her lips. “I didn’t think so,” she whispered, arching her neck. “What if I kiss you?”

“Is that what you’re planning to do? You have the rest of these guys by the balls, and since I’m not turning tricks to taste the pudding, what ’cha gonna do, darlin’, offer me a spoon?”

“I don’t understand your riddles,” she stated flatly, licking those full, enticing lips once more.

“Let me give you a warning. I’m the real thing, sweetheart. I’m in Jekyll Island to work. It’s something all of us do very well when we don’t have a distraction. Now, since I’ve been assigned to you for the time being, I’m setting you straight. You’ll do what I tell you, and you’ll do it with a wide smile to boot. Understand?”

“Or you’ll what?”

“I told you what I’d do. If you want to see how much I enjoy skinny-dipping, pull one of your stunts again. I’ll drag you into that ocean and make sure every tourist within ten miles hears you when you scream.”

“I already heard the guys talking. You wouldn’t rape me,” she said, narrowing her gaze and proving then that she wasn’t so sure.

“Rape? Hell, no. You’ll respond to me like a bitch in heat. I have a way about me.”

“Really? Who would’ve thought?” she asked diabolically, moving her lips to his ear. “Who can I ask to verify this? Hmm? Have you left any of your past lovers alive? Because if you have, I’d love to give them a call and invite them to join me for tea.”

Excerpt Two is for Adult-Only Sites:

Retrieving a large piece of leather luggage from the top of her closet, she started packing. Jeff stood near the French doors, eyeing the beach. “Tell me about the resort.”

“The Jekyll Island Club is swanky, a throw-back from yesteryear with many of the same upper-class families vacationing there. The old families have been coming to the island for generations. As a business owner, it’s hard to compete. The resort appealed to the upper echelon of society for a great number of years.”

“What about security?”

She looked right through him. “I’m sure you’re aware of Ramone Carpasia’s reputation. I hope you won’t put untrained guards in harm’s way. The rent-a-cops at the club are no match for Ramone. If Ramone goes public for a battle, hotel security won’t stop him. We may not.”

Jeff snickered. “I’m not afraid of your ex, baby. Besides, we’re not facing off with him tonight. We have time to put a plan together. We’ll go out to eat, enjoy a little wine, a little dancing, maybe even a little—”

“Take me off the menu,” she advised him, walking to her closet and throwing a few dresses into her suitcase. At the same time, he strolled over to her dresser, and as luck would have it, he didn’t have to search for the lingerie. He removed the narrow top drawer from the bureau and dumped all the contents into her luggage.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“I’m making sure you’re prepared.”

She glared at him. “Have I missed something? You’ve been here for about a month. You stare at me like you hate me, threaten me whenever the opportunity presents itself, and now you seem hell-bent on fucking me.”

“Sounds about right,” he said, fingering one of her favorite lingerie items, a thin, royal blue silk negligee with lace cups, thin threads barely holding them in place, a satin tie at the waist, and a transparent skirt.

“I’d rather be married to Connor.”

His head jerked. Winking, he said, “If we were talking a true honeymoon and wedding here, I might choose Connor for you, too. But since we’re trying to keep you alive and secure our target, I’m the man for this job. At the end of the day, you’ll be glad I’m me and you’re you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked, tossing a blouse toward him and watching him fold the soft cotton like the feel of material she’d worn against her skin excited him.

“We are what we are, Paige. Men aren’t that different from women. There are men you fuck, enjoy the hell out of in bed, but you wouldn’t take them home to Mama.”

“I’m not sleeping with you.”

“You didn’t let me finish,” he said. “Those are the men you want standing beside you when you meet an enemy. They have testosterone on their side. It’s what gets them going in the sack, and it’s the same thing you see coming out when a man fights for what he believes in.”

“But you won’t fight for me. You might fight beside me, but you won’t draw your gun for me.”

Moistening his lips, he caught her wrist when she tossed another article of clothing toward the luggage. “If I’m standing beside you, or anyone else, I’m fighting for you. I don’t step into the line of fire without knowing why I’m there and who I’m responsible for protecting. Got it?”

She tried to break his grip. When she failed, her gaze met his.

“We’re working together. For the time being, trust me to guard you.”

She swallowed. “I wonder how many women you’ve led to your bed with similar promises.”

“All of them.”

“And they ended up dead,” she stated flatly.

“So I’ve been known to tell a lie or two.”

“I’ll sleep with both eyes open.”

“Perfect. I knew you were a woman after my heart.”

“Bah! That’s the last thing I’m after.”

He patted her behind. “After you rubbed this all over my hard-on, I know what you’re after. My heart won’t get you off, but I have something that will.”

She grated back the urge to curse him. “God! You are so full of yourself!”

“I’d like to show you why sometime. Maybe I’ll get a chance on our honeymoon.”

“I hope I never get that desperate.”

“You will,” he promised. “I’ll make you wet, Paige, fucking wet. And then I’ll do something about it. That’s not a promise. That’s a no-questions-asked money-back guarantee.”

She picked up her luggage, and he immediately took over, placing his hand over hers until she released the handle. “I won’t be used by you or anyone else.”

“Maybe not, but I’m still going to fuck you. That’s what it’s going to take to make us both happy.”

Buy Link: http://www.bookstrand.com/breakfast-by-the-sea

Reader Survey

2010-11-17T08:45:00.002-05:00

I'm looking for several readers to participate in a survey. If you're a reader, not an author or aspiring author (yes, authors read, too, but this survey requires a specific perspective), please email me at tessmackall@gmail.com

All you have to do is give your honest opinion. You will not be quoted unless you give permission.

Thanks in advance to all those who respond.

Paid Advertising for Authors--What Works?

2010-11-15T09:43:00.004-05:00

Today is Part III of Promo School over at Three Wicked Writers Plus Two. http://threewickedwriters.blogspot.com/2010/11/promo-school-part-iii-to-pay-or-not-to.html

If you're wondering about paid advertising, we're trying to take the mystery out of it for you. My guest today is promo guru, Destiny Blaine. http://destinyblaine.com She's my go to person for lots of things, but promo is HER specialty for sure.

So if you're an author wondering if paid advertising works or if you're ready for it, stop by and check out the post. Leave a comment or ask questions. We'll be on and off all day and will certainly do our best to help you out.

And hey, if you like the Three Wicked Writers Plus Two Blog...follow us! http://threewickedwriters.blogspot.com

http://tessmackall.com

Cindy Jacks' New Release!

2010-11-12T07:15:00.003-05:00

Available now at Ellora's Cave!
http://www.jasminejade.com/ps-8822-50-leap.aspx

LEAP
Line: Moderne
Quickie
ISBN: 9781419930096

Blurb:

Just when Lila has resigned herself to the fact the most exciting chapters of her life are over, a blast from the past walks into her bakery. Six feet of gorgeousness named Gavin drops by as she’s closing up shop. They were once high-school sweethearts and it’s been more than twenty-five years since they’ve seen each other, but time hasn’t diminished the sweet heat between them. Soon enough the sparks—and the frosting—begin to fly.

As they rediscover each other’s bodies, it’s clear Gavin’s no longer a boy as he shows Lila the man and skillful lover he’s become. Though Lila knows this whirlwind romp could be an act of insanity, his touch unleashes the sensual woman she’s forgotten she could be. And she thinks—maybe—she has one more leap in her.

An Excerpt From: LEAP

Copyright © CINDY JACKS, 2010

All Rights Reserved, Ellora's Cave Publishing, Inc.

Gavin followed her through the swinging door to the back. With a low whistle, he looked around the kitchen and asked, “Is this place all yours?”

“All mine.”

She walked over to the Purposeless Cake and stared down at it. Pulling a box from beneath the worktable, she started to put it away, but then thought better of it.

“Are you hungry?” asked Lila.

“I could eat.”

“Good.” She pulled a knife from a drawer, cut slabs of cake and served them up on heavy-duty ceramic plates. Gavin grabbed two stainless-steel forks from a gray plastic silverware tub to his right.

She handed him his plate.

“This looks great,” he said.

“Taste it.”

He shoveled a bite into his mouth and moaned. “Oh my God. This is— Damn.”

Lila grinned. “Thanks.” She took a bite of cake. “Not bad, if I do say so myself.”

Pulling up two barstools, she sat and motioned for him to do the same. Lila studied him as he moved to take a seat. Taller, broader. Gavin had become fully a man. Though he was clean-shaven, she wondered what he’d look like with a beard. Could he grow one now? His dark hair led to about an inch or so of well-filled-out sideburns. Yeah, she was sure he could grow out his facial hair and he’d look pretty damn good if he did. Not that he didn’t look great as he was. The cropped, clean-cut look worked for him. A whisper of gray touched each of his temples and he wore that well too.

Her gaze wandered down his frame. No excess flesh or jutting bone. His tight musculature shifted his frame with ease. Clearly he took care of himself, worked out often. A picture of him shirtless in some imaginary gym, sweat dripping down a cut chest and abdomen, appeared in her mind’s eye. She blinked away the thought, trying to focus on his words and ignore the pounding of her heart. Her hand strayed to her matronly bun and the bobby pins holding it in place. She picked them out of her hair, one by one, and shook out her shoulder-length tresses.

“Mom said you’ve been at this location for the past ten years. I can see why,” said Gavin.

She cleared her throat. “Jack helped me set it up after we got divorced.”

“After?”

“It was a pretty amicable split…as divorces go.”

“My ex, Irene, and I went through a pretty rough one a couple years ago.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

He took another bite of cake. “It’s all good now.”

Lila worked on her piece for a few minutes in comfortable silence and then asked, “Why did you come here tonight, Gavin?”

He glanced around the room and gave a little shake of his head. “To see you.”

“I get that. I mean what were you expecting from me?”

He rubbed his hand on the front of his jeans. “No expectations. It’s—it’s just good to be back. You’re part of my memories of home. I guess. No, I mean you are. Definitely.” He grunted and rolled his eyes. “I’ll stop rambling now.”

She let out an amused huff under her breath. “You’re fine.”

She slid her fork over her plate and scraped up the last of the frosting and crumbs. Her tongue darted over the fork tines and licked them clean.

Gavin reached out his hand. “You got a little chocolate…”

He brushed his thumb over her bottom lip. She let her tongue graze the tip of it. Shocked by her own audacity, she shied away from his touch but he cupped her face in one hand.

Eyelids lowered, Gavin leaned in. Dark lashes rested against his cheek. Warm lips skimmed across hers. The hand under her jaw slipped beneath her hair and cradled her neck. Lila’s body relaxed into the kiss, sliding her tongue over his. For a moment she lost herself in the scent and the taste of him—chocolate richness and the citrus undertones of his cologne, but all too soon, she remembered the shards of glass lodged in her heart. Pain at the memory of Alan’s departure stabbed at her.

“Maybe we shouldn’t be doing this,” she murmured.

“Maybe not.” He gave her a quick, soft kiss and then a longer, more urgent one.

Shouldn’t be doing this, Lila thought. A list of reasons she should rebuff his advances scrolled through her mind. She was still getting over Alan. She hadn’t seen Gavin in over twenty-five years. Jesus Christ, a quarter century. Nothing good ever came from rushing into sex. But who said they had to go that far? Well, she did want to fuck him. No denying that. But the last thing she needed was…was…?

The feel of his heated mouth against hers overrode her common sense. Oh, to hell with it. Why not?

___________________________________________________________

Get your copy today! http://www.jasminejade.com/ps-8822-50-leap.aspx

His Beautiful Wench by Natalie Dae

2010-11-09T10:16:00.005-05:00

Publisher: Ellora's Cave Publishing

ISBN: 9781419929519

MSRP/List Price: $13.98
Our Cover Price: $6.99

Release Date: November 10, 2010

Drawn to the attic in her new home, Amelia finds a saucy nineteenth-century wench dress. At first glance, it’s just a dress, but once she dons it, desire streaks through her and she’s transported to the past. Overwhelmed by lust, she is caught pleasuring herself, discovered by the most gorgeous man she’s ever seen, who turns out to be—her lover?

Amelia and Emmet join in an explosive sexual union, erasing the months—or is it centuries?—they have been apart as though they never existed. But suddenly Amelia awakes—alone.

Until the dress calls again.

Emmett’s not the only one lusting after Amelia. Lord Graham wants her and he doesn’t fight fair. He kidnaps her, sends Emmett on a deadly errand and forces Amelia to participate in his voyeuristic games. Although Amelia’s body betrays her, she vows to remain true to Emmett, but will he return? And can she escape the clutches of Lord Graham’s debauchery? Amidst subterfuge, treachery and murder, Amelia and Emmet’s love grows and they reach new heights of carnal passions.

EXCERPT:

Emmett ignored her, only sliding his hands to span her stomach. His mouth covered one nipple, teeth lightly nipping, and the shock nearly had her opening her eyes. He sucked, tugging on the taut peak the way she liked, as she knew he would. She cried out, almost reaching her pain threshold. Emmett eased the pressure a little, then sucked and reared his head back once more, the torment too much for her, too intense.

“Stop, I…”

He let her nipple go. It ached, and despite wanting the sweet torture to end, she longed for more. As though picking up on her thoughts, he tongued her nipple, sucking it as before. Amelia clasped her hands together tighter, wanting to cry out yet at the same time testing herself to see how far she could go. He pulled harder, his fingers stroking her waist, circling her navel, and she clenched her cunt, willed herself not to gasp.

She failed, snatching in air.

Breast free of his mouth, she lifted her pelvis, needing him to cater to her throbbing bud. The mattress dipped again as he shuffled his knees farther down the bed then settled between her legs, the heat of his breath on her slit forcing the air out of her lungs. Her torso juddered beneath his questing fingers and she itched to pinch her nipples. Instead, she squeezed her hands again. His tongue parted her. The tip swirled around her nub and a blaze of sensation warmed the folds.

“Oh God, Emmett…”

“I’m going to sup your cream. Lick you, make you want me so much you can’t breathe.”

He flattened his tongue, licking her with quick strokes, fingers smoothing down her body to widen her slit. She bucked as he worked faster, exquisite waves of pleasure ebbing and flowing in and around her bud. Panting, she writhed, unclasping her hands and gripping the headboard spindles. She dug her nails into her palms, the bite adding to her excitement. Tongue flicking from side to side, Emmett brought her to the brink of orgasm then stopped, kissing her mound and her lower belly. She hissed out between clenched teeth, frustrated but knowing when he touched her there again the pleasure would be stronger. He took his mouth from her belly and didn’t move. She waited, eyes still closed, and listened to the sounds around them—their breaths, a creaking bed downstairs, faint moans from customers, footsteps on the wooden floor below. She longed to open her eyes, to see whether he studied her, but at the same time not knowing suited her. And she waited, her heart picking up speed, her wet nub throbbing in time with it. God, how she wanted to let go and slide her hands into his hair, pushing his mouth down onto her slit, directing his movements and orchestrating the pressure. To tell him to sup her now, beg if she had to. But she remained silent, confident he knew exactly when to begin again.

At last, movement! He hooked his hands beneath her buttocks and lifted her, setting her lower half on his thighs. His balls rested against her ass, their softness and warmth arousing her beyond measure. Emmett brushed his hands up and down her legs, thumbs skating close to her thatch each time he reached the top. When he drew away she almost cried out in frustration, wanting more of the touch of his fingertips beside her mound. He leaned back to caress her shins, then her calves and she loosed a strangled moan. God, he teased her so! She needed his hands higher up, at her nub, which pulsed and swelled with every passing second. Sliding his hands beneath her knees, he pushed so her legs bent and she placed her feet beside him on the bed. He spread her legs and she could only imagine the sight of herself open for his viewing.

“Beautiful, wench. Beautiful.”

Her stomach flipped at the hoarseness of his voice, a voice that belied the fact he was in control. He was close, she sensed it, and it wouldn’t be long before he could hold back no longer and plunged inside her. She hoped it would be soon, because she was close to coming herself. The slowness of his actions had brought her to a high state of arousal, and just the slightest touch now might send her over the edge.

Thumbs sliding up and down each lip of her slit, Emmett tortured Amelia some more. She jolted, eyes nearly springing open, and waited to feel what he would do next. He placed his thumbs together then glided them down to her opening, easing them inside with his fingers splayed over her mound. He pressed his thumbs and fingers together, her pelvic bone in between, and moved his thumbs up and down the upper wall of her sheath. Suddenly, he curved his thumb tips and touched something deep inside her, a place he had never been before. A sharp sensation had her abdomen jerking and she almost, almost opened her eyes.

“Did you like that?” he asked, dragging his thumbs down then returning them to that place, pressing there with his fingers.

The sensation came again, and now he concentrated on the area, rubbing what felt like a ridge inside her. She nodded, wondering what would happen if he kept stroking. Amelia didn’t have to wait long before successive shots of fierce pleasure momentarily took away her ability to breathe.

“I told you I’d take away your breath. Good. That feels good, doesn’t it, wench?”

She nodded and gasped, riding out the new feelings his thumbs produced. As the bite receded, her bud still throbbing and in need of attention, he eased his thumbs out and gripped her waist. Without warning, he thrust his cock inside her, fucking her hard and fast. She clenched her sheath around him, gripped the bed spindles tighter and gave in to the rising tide.

“Ah, wench!” he ground out.

His firm thrusts nudged her up the bed and she crossed her ankles at his lower back, her whole body tingling with excitement. Juices coated his cock, the length of him gliding in and out easily, the aroma of sex heightening her desire. She came, bucking, keening, emotions running so high they overwhelmed her with their intensity. Emmett’s low moans and grunts brought on another wave of pleasure and her cunt ached with it. Wet heat filled her and her lover loosed a strangled yell, pushing into her with short jabs as he emptied himself into her contracting sheath. He slowed to a stop and lowered his body to hers, brushing her cheeks with sweet kisses.

Amelia opened her eyes, staring into his. Love shone from him and she wanted so much to tell him how she felt, but the words wouldn’t come, halted by the lump in her throat.

I love you, Emmett Dray. Love you…

Empowering Women Through Erotica

2010-11-06T07:45:00.005-04:00

R. Paul Sardanas is our guest at Three Wicked Writers Plus Two today. http://threewickedwriters.blogspot.com/2010/11/enlightened-erotica.html The discussion is all about the enlightenment and empowerment of women through erotica.

Paul writes not only the most incredible poetry but also the most intriguing erotic romance I've ever read. He's a brilliant writer with a true gift for words. A very enlightened man and a unique voice within erotic romance. Stop by and see what he has to say about the connection between women, empowerment, and enlightenment as it relates to erotica. Leave him a comment. I know he'd love to hear your thoughts.

His latest releases will amaze you. Touch in the Bed of Light and The Order of the Golden Rose. Visit Paul's website to learn more about hiim and his incredible books.
http://rpaulsardanas.com

Coffee, Diet Coke, Whiskey?

2010-11-05T08:55:00.004-04:00

The past three days have seen major hassles in my personal life. I'm always being torn apart it seems. One pulling on me this way and another pulling on me that way. There's only so much of me to go around, and I always feel like screaming: "GROW UP! GET A LIFE WHY DON'T YA!"

But no, it seems nothing can happen, move forward, unless I'm somehow involved. I'm the go to person in all things at my house, and it's got to stop. Being shoved from my writing zone a hundred or more times a day is driving me insane to say the least. I can't get anything accomplished.

This morning I put on the coffee and while it was doing its thing, I opened the fridge to grab an English muffin to toast with some cheese. I spied a can of Diet Coke and since I was thirsty, popped the tab and guzzled some down. After the muffin was placed in the toaster oven topped with cheese, I leaned against the counter and watched the coffee drip drip drip into the carafe.

As I was observing this painfully slow process, I pondered all the unforgivable interruptions in my life--yes, unforgivable because my family shows zero respect for me and what I want to do. My writing does not count and fits on the importance scale, to them at least, somewhere below the location of their favorite pair of socks. Who the hell has a favorite pair of socks anyway?

Yeah, I'm mad. Damn mad. Five hundred words in two weeks time. Wouldn't you be mad? Could someone please tell me how to get my family under control and make them understand that writing is important to me, and I'm going to do this even if they DON'T like it? I tell them that all the time, but it doesn't work worth a damn.

There's a bottle of whiskey on the counter--leftover from the weekend. I had two shots and crawled into bed Saturday night. I'm so sorely tempted to make myself an Irish Coffee this morning. Hmmm...I do have whipped cream. And it's the LITE kind too. No guilt. God, they're driving me to drink!

New Release from KB Alan!

2010-11-03T13:03:00.002-04:00

Keeping Claire

KB Alan

Claire’s been fantasizing about the owner of her company since she first saw him. Ryan is gorgeous, confident and sexy as hell. In other words, so not her type. With the crazy life she leads, it’s best to stick to men who are happy to do what she tells them to, then disappear. Since Ryan would never abide by those terms, it’s best to keep him right where she’s got him—in her dreams.

Ryan gets up close and personal with Claire while investigating a threat to his company. Once he’s convinced she’s not out to hurt what he’s helped build, he refocuses his more-than-human energies on his intriguing employee. When she quits, insisting it’s best if she leaves town, he’s determined to convince her otherwise. At least long enough to get a taste of her. And the more he tastes, the more he touches, the more he wants. Now he just has to convince Claire that what they have is worth fighting for, and he’s more than up to the task.

Available now at Ellora's Cave!

Sex Education, My Kid, and Me

2010-10-30T10:29:00.004-04:00

This coming week marks the three-week long course on sex ed in my fourteen-year-old's middle school. Parents had to sign off on this at the beginning of the school year and, of course, I did. Kids at school have been anxiously anticipating all of this and the closer its gotten to actually sitting in on this, the more chatter.

What I don't really understand--not talking about anything to do with sex here now, lol,--is why the teaching of this course falls under the purview of the gym teacher. I guess it's because it's always "health and P.E.", sex falling under the purview of bodily functions, and therefore health. But still, is a gym teacher really qualified to teach our children sex ed? Sex isn't just about the body, is it?

I don't personally know my kid's gym teachers, but I have known several gym teachers in the past fairly well and quite frankly, I would not have chosen any of them to teach my kid about sex. I'm told that the course will involve not only the actual mechanics of the act, pregnancy prevention--mostly just say NO--but also touch on some of the reality of teenagers dealing with the issues revolving around sex.

And it's that touch-on-the-reality-of-teenagers-dealing-with-the-issues-revolving-around-sex part of it all that scares me. What exactly does that mean? Sounds kind of vague to me, but at the same time sort of like they will answer questions that teenagers might have that aren't related to the mechanics of it all or the prevention. And it seems the answers the teacher could give the students to whatever questions they ask could be rather subjective.

I raised my concern with the principal a couple of weeks ago--know him well, he's a nice guy--and his reply was that questions which run a bit too deep will be answered with a firm "ask your Mama". lol Yeah, he's a nice guy, funny too. But that just put a knot in my stomach. Really did. I'm not sure I want that gym teacher determining just what is too deep for him to discuss.

I'm blessed with having a kid who will, upon hearing "ask your Mama", most certainly ask---AND--by the time he gets to me, will have formed all kinds of answers and opinions himself and a huge discussion will ensue until I finally get him all straightened out on the subject. Except, of course, when he talks about planetary alignments or life in the ocean or some asteroid about to collide with earth. I draw the line at those type of discussions and honestly, he just talks to me about stuff like that because he loves seeing the blank, helpless look in my eyes. But when it comes to issues with sex, he KNOWS I won't be blank. AND I won't blink.

His favorite come back to me these days when we argue is: "Ohhhh...go write one of your sexy books and give me a break." Yeah, he says that.

Now my kid already knows about sex. We've talked at length about it over the past few years. So he isn't going into this sex ed class without knowledge. I think it's important for him to learn about the female body and how it works--I mean reproductive wise--I don't think they are going to give him lessons on how a female's body works sex wise. lol Oh God, I hope not. Not my baby! He's too young. LOL Just joking. But a good film on ovaries and fallopian tubes and such will probably scare him away from sex for a couple of more years I think. LOL

My concern is not so much for my own kid as it is for others whose parents might not be so forthcoming--so vigilante. There are plenty of kids in that school whose parents don't even show up for parent-teacher conferences. No, it's not my job to worry over someone else's kids, but I do. My kid will be the one in the class who'll ask the teacher all of those questions he'll have to respond to with "Ask your Mama". And he'll already know the answers because we've most likely already discussed it or he just knows cause he's a smart kid. But he enjoys discussion and getting the teacher's goat, so to speak.

But when he asks those questions or one of his friends do and they don't get an answer--who will that kid whose parent doesn't talk to him/her about all this go to and ask? That's my worry. I know the school can only go so far. And I know there is nothing I can do about it. But it seems there could possibly be a separate class for the purpose of counseling students about sex. Then, of course, those parents who don't talk to their kids about sex would be all up in the air about it, wouldn't they?

In the meantime, lack of understanding is increasing the rate of sexually transmitted diseases and teen pregnancy. It's not just enough for a parent to say don't do it, is it? You have to get inside your kid's head and help them figure it out. If you don't have an open dialogue, allow the child to talk to you about all the hard subjects---not just sex but drugs too--then in my opinion it's a big parent failure. And sometimes it doesn't make a bit of difference what you do either. Been there, done that. So I'm not trying to be judgmental. Lots of parents do try their very best and still something goes wrong. But I'm talking specifically about parents who simply sit back and do nothing in so far as helping guide their kids onto the right path.

So is a separate class to counsel students on sex and possibly even drugs a viable solution? One which, say a school counselor could teach--someone trained to deal with the hard questions. Talk about the things she/he sees on a daily basis. Sure, those same students could make an appointment to see the counselor anytime they wanted, but would they? Wouldn't it be easier on them to be there with others just like them who might have the same questions?

So what's the answer? Just do the best we can with our own kids or push for a deeper look into the sex ed classes our schools are teaching and hope for a better solution.

Wicked Desires by Eliza Lloyd Releases Today!

2010-10-29T15:05:00.003-04:00

From Ellora's Cave! http://www.jasminejade.com/p-8821-wicked-desires.aspx

Michael Dunnaway has it all—a wife he loves, three sons, an earldom. Except he isn’t getting any younger—and his body lets him know in a way that makes him doubt his masculinity. His impotence with Clarissa drives him to seek out new thrills. He’s contemplating giving up everything for the satisfaction he finds with a nubile French whore, but with the pleasure comes guilt. Is betraying the love of his life worth temporary gratification and the restoration of his confidence?

Clarissa has entered a world of shocking passions and unheard of acts, welcoming Michael with open arms. Hidden behind a mask, and with the help of a whorehouse madam, she finds she’d do just about anything to win her husband back. But will it be enough? And will the deep cravings they explore as strangers reveal more devastating secrets? Or will they discover their dark passion and wicked desires can lead to a greater love?

Loose Ends

2010-10-28T10:35:00.004-04:00

Life comes with loose ends. And at the moment I have too damn many. there is always something going on, isn't there? And when you're busy, it seems as though you only complete tasks in a part time/partial manner.

Today I started tying up loose ends. And what happened? More loose ends were created as a result. Nothing is ever simple, is it?

Well, I'm just about fed up with some of these loose ends. Once you cut ties to something or someone, they should stay cut. I believe I've got something going on that is going to haunt me for a long time to come, though. So what do I plan to do about it? Ignore it for the most part. Just deal with what I have to and ignore the rest.

Well, just had to get that out. Back to work---or off to the doctor's office with the kid. He has a fever.

I'm Not In Promo Mode Today

2010-10-27T08:56:00.002-04:00

Random thoughts and blogging. I think that's the way to go today. I'm NOT in promo mode. But I do need to blog daily. Ever get the feeling that you're a hamster in a cage on that little wheel just running and running and getting nowhere fast?

That's me. People think writing isn't work. I hear that from my family all the time. If they only knew. I think I field about fifty emails a day that need my attention. And I'm not talking about group emails that I skim in order to determine importance. That in itself is time consuming.

I'm in the middle of a working up an all out promo assault with my friend Natalie Dae. We co-authored a book together and looks like it will be my first Ellora's Cave release. I wasn't expecting a release until some time in January with Twelve Days of Love--a Valentine's Day themed book.

But I'm happy to be moving forward for sure. But setting up promotions is not an easy task. There is all the free stuff you can do plus paid advertising. Finding advertising that you believe will work for you and at the price you want to invest is NOT an easy task.

My to do list just gets bigger and bigger every day.

And I have to fit writing into all of that as well. We don't even want to talk about laundry and cleaning and cooking or the number of times someone in the family needs me because they NEVER know where anything is. sighhhhh

So I'm in a bitching and moaning mood today. I'm going to finish reading a book for a friend and give her my comments and then it's off to work on more promo. The kitchen can wait for it's morning wipe down. I'm just too tired to deal with it right now. Maybe later.

Lily Harlem and Mattress Music

2010-10-26T14:25:00.005-04:00

For my very first post on my very new blog site, I'm turning things over to author Lily Harlem who will introduce everyone to her upcoming release from Ellora's Cave.

Take it away, Lily!

My e-book ‘Mattress Music’ is due for release on 9th of November at Ellora’s Cave. It’s the first in a set of three short stories focusing on ‘rock and roll’ in a very literal sense!

Here’s the blurb:

Is it possible to lose one’s ability to orgasm? Nina has. Lately, her fun weekend hook-ups have been more “ho-hum” than “hot damn”! It doesn’t help that she has three flatmates and is forced to play loud music to mask the sounds of her lovemaking. Talk about distracting! Of course, there’s another reason Nina’s less than satisfied these days…she’s just having a hard time admitting it.

It’s a good thing she’s met Ian, then. Not content to be a weekend hook-up, Ian is set on giving Nina what she’s been missing while making her admit what she needs. His talented fingers—and other body parts—are up to the task. But Ian’s not admitting a few things himself. Turns out his fingers can do more than make Nina’s body sing.

When she discovers his secret, it’s time for both of them to face the music.

And here is an excerpt - adults only it’s hot!

By reading any further, you are stating that you are at least 18 years of age. If you are under the age of 18, it is necessary to exit this site.

An Excerpt From: MATTRESS MUSIC
Copyright © LILY HARLEM, 2010
All Rights Reserved, Ellora's Cave Publishing, Inc.

“You’re fucking awesome,” he whispered into my ear on a hot, panting breath.

“You too,” I said, running my hand down his perfectly smooth back. Not a pimple anywhere, just acres of glorious hot, male flesh and a deeply guttered spine lined with solid muscle. “Really good.”

He lifted his head and looked into my eyes. “Liar.”

“What?”

“Liar, you didn’t come.”

“I did, it was great…you were great.” Lying to a man who was buried inside me was not something I was good at.

“I’m not stupid, Nina, I can tell when a woman orgasms. I can’t always tell the difference between real and fake, but bloody hell, you didn’t even try to pretend, not even a little wriggle and a gasp at the right moment.”

Frowning and shifting my hips I muttered, “Sorry,” as I pushed out from under him.

“Don’t be sorry.” He rolled to his side, bent his arm and propped his head on his hand. The flat silver cross around his neck hung toward the mattress. “Just tell me what I did wrong so I can fix it for next time,” he said, still catching his breath.

Next time? Not likely. One-night stands were my game. “You didn’t do anything wrong.” I pulled the duvet to my chin and turned to the wall. “It was me.”

He caught my jaw. “Tell me,” he ordered, tipping me to face him. “I want to know.”

Through the dim light, blushed orange by a streetlamp, I could see his dark eyes staring straight into mine, unblinking. One of my flatmates banged crockery in the kitchen next to my room then a deep rumble of laughter from one of the guys, Jerry I think, filtered through the thin wall.

“Why do you care?” I asked, toes and fingers curling.

“I’m lying naked in bed with you, we’ve just shared as intimate an experience as two people can, and you wonder why I’m bothered that you didn’t have as good a time as me? Would I be human if I didn’t give a shit?”

I shrugged. Candle in the Wind had finished, and in its place Don’t Let the Sun Go Down on Me was swirling around us.

Too late to save myself from falling—

That was me, I thought, too far gone on this road of shagging any cock I could find to be saved. In my old flat, living with Dee and Fiona, life had been great and mattress music was never needed. We all just went for it, having as much sex and as many noisy orgasms as possible. We would giggle about it over breakfast and swap stories about what racy shenanigans we’d been up to.

But now they’d moved on. They were both head over heels in love and settled in their own homes, leaving me out on a limb and living here with strangers.

Of course I wasn’t technically alone, but if I was honest I’d never felt so lonely. I didn’t want to be, loneliness was like a dull, gray hole swelling inside me. Starting in my stomach and stretching outward. And in the center of this hole was a new bitter emotion―envy. I envied what Dee and Fi had found, lasting love with respect and commitment. But admitting what I wanted and changing the fact that there was no one special in my life were two separate issues.

More pressingly, at the moment anyway, nor could I change the fact that I hadn’t orgasmed since I’d moved. My one-night stands just weren’t doing it for me anymore. The intimacy of getting naked and sweaty with someone wasn’t satisfying the hunger, the need that was eating away at me like an itch I couldn’t quite reach.

I’d been here three weeks, three fucks. But each week there had been something sneaking into my brain that had distracted me from the delicious build-up to climax. Deadly quiet the first week when I was with a bodybuilding scaffolder from Durham, every mattress squeak and grunt sliding under the door and echoing through the walls. With Dave, an earnest accountant from Chelsea, a knock on my door midway through a blowjob put me off my stride. And now this morose mattress music was stopping me from having a great time with the truly gorgeous Ian.

“Nina?” Ian pressed, dragging me from my depressed musing.

“It was the damn music,” I said with a frown. He wasn’t going to let it drop so I might as well fess up. “I couldn’t concentrate. You were doing it right, great, but I just kept thinking of Marilyn Monroe and Princess Diana and Elton singing at his piano with his big, wobbling white wig and that mole thing he used to paint on his cheek.”

Ian tipped his head back and laughed. A big guffaw that shook the bed.

“Shh!” I pressed my fingers to his lips.

“Thank God for that,” he said, grinning. “Thought I’d lost my touch.”

“It’s not funny,” I whispered.

“No, no.” He tried to straighten out his grin. “Of course it’s not. I’ve just never thought of it before, the words in a song competing for the attention of the woman I’m trying to please.” He dropped a kiss to my lips. “So why did you put it on if you don’t like it?”

“So no one will hear. The walls here are so thin, and I’ve got male flatmates who I don’t want perving with glasses pressed to the walls.”

“You think they would?”

I sighed. “Probably not, they seem nice enough, but just the same…”

“You want your privacy.”
“Exactly.” I paused then sighed. “We should have taken a cab and gone to yours.”

“Yeah, but this was closer, much closer, just a quick walk around the corner.” He smoothed the hair from my face. It always went wild after sex. The hundreds of tiny, copper corkscrews seemed to take on lives of their own. “Maybe we could leave the music off and do it really, really quietly,” he whispered, spreading springs of my hair over the pillowcase.

“No,” I said. “That won’t work, I’ll be too conscious of even our breathing, or if the mattress squeaks.”

His eyes narrowed and a muscle in his cheek flexed, then he got up, walked to the iPod and finally silenced Elton. “This isn’t over you know.”

Buy link
http://www.jasminejade.com/ps-8777-50-mattress-music.aspx

Bio
Lily Harlem lives in the UK with a workaholic hunk and a crazy cat. With a desk overlooking farmland, she allows her imagination to run free and revels in being able to use the written word as an outlet for her creativity. Lily's stories are made up of colourful characters traveling on everyone's favourite journey — falling in love. If the story isn't romantic, sexy and exciting, it won't be written, at least not by this author. Lily also won the 2009 Love Honey Award for Erotic Fiction with an American inspired tale titled ‘Madam President’. Read it for free at her website www.lilyharlem.weebly.com and check out other great authors and hot inspirational pictures.