Getting Naughty Between the Stacks

Guest Post & Giveaway from Morgan Hannah MacDonald

2012-02-29T02:03:00.004-05:00

I’ve been asked where the inspiration for SANDMAN came from. Well, truth is stranger than fiction. It was November 3, 1998. I had gone away for the weekend to the mountains with a couple of friends from work. There had been rumors of snow, so we put the TV on immediately to track the storm. The minute the news came on, there was a story of a trucker who had walked into the police station, slapped a plastic bag on the counter and stated; I think you’re looking for me. The bag contained the severed breast of a woman.

As the weekend wore on, more information became available. They stated that the man had frequented a Karaoke bar in San Clemente. That perked up my ears. Five years prior, I had dated a guy who ran that Karaoke bar. I might have met this guy! Chilling.

After I got home, there was a message from my best friend. She asked if I had seen the story on the news and wasn’t that the guy I’d dated? I laughed. I’d never dated a Wayne. I would have remembered, that was my grandfather’s name. Then she told me his full name was Wayne Adam Ford, it hit me. I did date a guy named Adam, but he didn’t look anything like the guy on the news.

The Adam I knew was sexy, tall, fit and had a neatly trimmed beard that brought out his gorgeous deep green eyes. It had been the winter of 1993 and he wore flannel shirts with straight legged 501 jeans. I love that lumberjack look! *giggle* The guy on the news was heavier and balding. Of course, I hadn’t seen him in five years and people do change. But I still wasn’t convinced. My friend said that Inside Edition was doing a story on him that night.

So at seven o’clock I sat on my couch and waited. They started the segment with the exact same clip the news had showed all weekend. It was a slow motion shot of him entering a court room in an orange jumpsuit. But this time, when he turned to face the camera, I recognized those eyes. I burst into tears. It was him, it was the man I’d dated! My body trembled, then turned numb as I listened to the frightening tale. He was discharged from the marines for psychological reasons in the early eighties. In 1985 he was arrested for the rape and beating of a prostitute, the charges were dropped due to lack of evidence. That’s when it occurred to me, he was already on the brink of insanity when I’d known him!

In 1994 he’d met a young girl at that same karaoke bar. They’d married and had a child. After the birth, he started to unravel. He’d become possessive, jealous and asked her to do strange things in the bedroom. She divorced him and took the child to live with her mother. He was refused visitation rights.

That was the catalyst that started his murderous rampage. He started picking up prostitutes and hitch hikers at truck stops along his route. He raped and tortured the girls before he killed them, then sliced off a breast as a souvenir.

The camera panned to a trailer surrounded by woods alongside a river. The picture would have been beautiful and serene if not for all the cops parading in and out carrying evidence. They announced his freezer was full of body parts. It seems that one of his victims had her legs, arms and head amputated by an ax. Her torso was found bobbing in the water by a fisherman. They were still searching the Madd River for her head.

In a moment of hysteria, I remembered how overly dramatic the guy had been. If not for the fact that they’d found all that evidence linking him to those grisly crimes, I would have thought he’d confessed just to get attention. Maybe he did. The authorities didn’t know they had a serial killer. He wasn’t even a blip on their radar. So the only way he could get his fifteen minutes of fame was to turn himself in. But the joke’s on him, fifteen minutes is all he got. After all, have you ever heard of Wayne Adam Ford? It is said that there are approximately 50 serial killers active in the United States at any given time. So if in his sick twisted mind he thought he would be another Ted Bundy, or John Wayne Gacy, he was sorely mistaken.

The final twist to this already disturbing story is that I met Wayne Adam Ford on my birthday November 3, 1993 and he turned himself in on November 3 1998. After this revelation, I didn’t trust my instincts regarding men. I didn’t go on another date for over ten years. I’m still single to this day. I guess you could say that this has really messed with my mind!

Now I know it’s a cliché, but it’s true. I never had a clue. The guy I dated was charming, handsome and had lots of friends. We dated only a short time. I questioned his relationship with his ex-girlfriend who was cooking him meals and leaving them in his freezer. He broke up with me because he said I had a suspicious mind. Funny, but I ran into him some months later and we went out to grab a bite to eat. That’s when he confessed he had to stop seeing her because he was still in love with her.

Now, when you read SANDMAN, you will find bits and pieces of these things in the story. I borrowed some facts from his case and mixed them up between the suspects so no one would be able to guess the killer’s true identity.

SANDMAN
By Morgan Hannah MacDonald

Beware the SANDMAN he’ll put you to sleep. . .forever.

A serial killer on the loose, a woman being stalked, and a homicide detective who must find the connection between the two before she becomes the next victim.

He collects women. He imprisons them, plays with them, tortures them. Until they bore him. Then he removes a souvenir. They call him the Sandman.

Meagan McInnis is being plagued with late night calls, yet when she answers, no one is there. Then one night she makes a grisly discovery in her own backyard.

The caller is silent no more.

Homicide Detective, J.J. Thomas, realizes Meagan is the key to finding the Sandman. Now not only must he protect her, but he must find the connection between Meagan and the killer before she becomes his next victim.

WARNING: SANDMAN is a Romantic Thriller that contains adult language, explicit sex and graphic violence.

About the Author:
Morgan Hannah MacDonald writes Romantic Thrillers-Not for the faint of heart. She has always been interested in writing and serial killers, but it wasn’t until she found she had dated one herself that a true writer was born. She belongs to Romance Writers of America’s San Diego Chapter, as well as the Kiss of Death Chapter. She resides in San Diego, California where she is busy working on her next novel.

Email: morganwrites@yahoo.com

Website: www.morganhannahmacdonald.com

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/MorganHannahMacDonald.Author

Giveaway is an ebook copy of Sandman

Contest ends 3/7/12 I will pick the winners via Random.org. Once the winners are picked I'll email them and post here. The winners then have 48 hours to reply if they don't reply in that time frame I will pick new winners and the previous ones will have forfeited their winnings.

Guest Post Jane Isaac

2012-02-28T01:13:00.001-05:00

In the Name of Research
I’m a very visual person with an overactive imagination (or so my mother constantly told me when I was young!). I like to step into my character’s shoes, want my reader’s to feel their journey.
As writers, we painstakingly research our novels: probe the internet, read books, articles, interview others. But sometimes you need that firsthand experience to touch, smell, hear and see something for yourself. Which is what led me to a Sunday afternoon, family walk in search of deposition sites for a body...
An Unfamiliar Murder is set in the fictional town of Hampton, loosely based on my home in Northants, England. There is a scene in the book set on Bracken Way, based on the very real Brampton Valley Way, a disused railway line, given over to walkers and cyclists.
So, unbeknown to the families cycling past, couples picnicking at designated sites, the dog trudging at my side, my ten year old climbing every available tree - my husband and I ambled down the Brampton Valley Way, pausing to examine mine shafts, drains, even a disused pump house – discussing the advantages and disadvantages of storing a body and searching for secluded meeting places. I was able to touch the stone, listen to the birds in the trees, smell the air around, analyse the scenes; all valuable tools to be used in my descriptions later.
This proved to be a very lucrative afternoon of research which resulted in my coming home and writing a chapter of my novel. A chapter which included a very important scene – the scene that appears on the front of the book. And here is where I share the secret. This is the tunnel entrance on the very real Brampton Valley Way.

And this is the front of my novel.

Having signed with an American publishing house, this photo for my cover art was taken in the great USA. I sent the photographer many images and descriptions of the real site and she did a wonderful job of emulating it with a similar site she found in the US. Can you notice any differences?
So far, that is the most extreme thing I have done in the name of research. I’d love to hear some of yours?

Buy An Unfamiliar Murder here:
Paperback US:
http://www.amazon.com/Unfamiliar-Murder-Jane-Isaac/dp/1937758060/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1326864285&sr=8-1
Paperback UK:
http://www.amazon.co.uk/Unfamiliar-Murder-Jane-Isaac/dp/1937758060/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1328031646&sr=8-2
Kindle US:
http://www.amazon.com/An-Unfamiliar-Murder-ebook/dp/B006YK6U18/ref=sr_1_3?ie=UTF8&qid=1326864285&sr=8-3
Kindle UK:
http://www.amazon.co.uk/An-Unfamiliar-Murder-ebook/dp/B006YK6U18/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1326868728&sr=8-1
What readers are saying:

"The characters are brilliantly crafted.... I can't wait for the sequel!"

"...as fast paced as it is full of twists and turns... "

"...compulsive reading. Brilliantly written, gripping plot."

Contact details:
You can contact me on my website at www.janeisaac.co.uk. I love to hear from readers and writers. Sign up to my newsletter for updates on An Unfamiliar Murder and its sequel which should be out by the end of 2013. Alternatively, follow me on Twitter: @JaneIsaacAuthor or on Face Book: Jane Isaac Author.

Guest Post & Giveaway From Stacey Kennedy

2012-02-24T06:25:00.003-05:00

I’m so excited to be back at Getting Naughty Between the Stacks! Today I want to chat about an element of Supernaturally Kissed that I know has some people frustrated, scratching their heads in curiosity and just wondering how it’s possible… How can a ghost and a living woman have a romance?

I’ll tell you this straight out that it took some creative writing on my part to make the steamy scenes happen and was even more difficult when writing the second book, but it was possible. That element of the story is what I love most. Personally, I find the fact that they can’t touch so teasing because I keep wondering…will they ever be able to and how HOT that scene will be if it happens.

I think that it makes the sexual tension bigger than it normally would because it’s so forbidden. I wonder what it’d be like to be Tess and wanting nothing more than to get hot and heavy with her hunk, but unable to. How frustrating that would be and in truth how heartbreaking it would be at the same time.

But as a writer I love that it pushes me to think outside of the box. Sure, we can always write a hot scene that leaves you drooling on the page, but I enjoy that nothing about Tess & Kipp is normal. I like that there are so many elements to this story that’s heart wrenching and that Tess is struggling to do the right thing. How she doesn’t want to get involved with a ghost because of all these obstacles, but how love prevails.

So I know you’re thinking, will there be a time when Tess & Kipp do the real physical deed. Well, I can’t spill secrets, but remember that this is an urban fantasy romance. What this means is that you can’t think of the story in contemporary terms. Would this really happen in real life? No, of course not, but in a paranormal atmosphere it could very well be a possibility.

There are four books planned in their series and YES, by book four Tess will have her happily ever after. How that will happen and how she’ll get there I just can’t say because what would be the fun in that, but there will be a time where Tess knows what it’s like to kiss Kipp’s sexy lips!

And how exciting that first touch and first kiss will be!

In thanks for stopping by and chatting today, I’m offering up one copy of the ebook Supernaturally Kissed (international). Leave your email address with your comment to be entered. Don’t forget to come find me on Facebook and Twitter. I love to chat!!

Ghosts harass and annoy Tess Jennings to save their souls. Sometimes she helps them. Other times she ignores them. But one ghost will give her no choice.

Kipp McGowen, a cop with the Memphis Police Department, will stop at nothing to gain her help, including using his ghostly charms to seduce her.

Tess must help solve the five year old cold case of Hannah Reid, because solving the case will save Kipp. But a bigger problem presents itself. Tess is falling in love with a ghost. Now she must decide. Keep Kipp forever or find the killer…

WATCH THE BOOK TRAILER

BUY LINK

~*~

EXCERPT:

An icy wisp of air swept in behind me, causing my heel to twist as I stumbled. To the other pedestrians striding along the downtown Memphis street, the sensation would be brushed off as a cold breeze.

They were wrong. A spirit lingered here.

“Can you hear me?”

From the intrigue rolling in his voice, he hadn’t expected me to acknowledge him. Shit! I’d already given myself away. A mistake I’d rectify.

Without hesitation, I righted my stance and strode forward with purpose, forcing myself to remain deaf to the voice. If I ignored ghosts long enough, they moved on and searched out someone else who held the same irritating ability, whom I had yet to meet.

Much to my annoyance, the ghost stayed right on my heels and his presence remained strong behind me. The cold air at my back remained a contrast to the warm morning air in front of me. Every hair on my neck stood up and goose bumps pimpled a trail along my skin. If only I could rub them away, but I didn’t dare. Ignoring him would make him go away.

“You can hear me, can’t you?” the ghost asked again.

Spirits were typically harmless, but annoying. I’m dead, what’s going on, why am I a ghost—yada, yada, yada. I quickened my steps and made my way down Peabody Place in hopes he’d leave me alone.

“Wait.”

He sounded desperate, which meant a big headache for me. If I hadn’t worn my damn slingbacks, I would’ve tried to run and hide. But the three-inch Manolos and the tight, tailored gray skirt restrained my movements.

I passed Miss Polly’s Soul Food Café, and the delicious aroma of bacon and eggs drifted along the air. My empty stomach complained. My only thought after I woke had been caffeine. Now I wished I’d grabbed a muffin with my latté at Starbucks. With ten minutes to get to my desk, I couldn’t worry about such things.

My boss, Event Manager Dylan Cobb, would hand me my ass if I stepped into the office a minute late. Sadly, there’d never been a day I didn’t cater to his every need.

I approached Beale Street and sighed in relief, relishing the warmth surrounding me. Not only from the sun above—the spirit’s cold presence at my back had vanished. Pleased my dodge of him had worked, I took a sip of my energy in a cup and smiled. Coffee’s fantastic, the ghost is gone—life is good.

Another block passed under my heels before I reached the historical red-brick building. Randall Marketing, written in black block letters, decorated the striped green-and-white awning.

I opened the door to the office and strode in, greeted by a bubbly voice. “Good morning, Tess.”

“Mornin’.”

“Give me a moment here.” Doris shuffled paperwork around her desk, her auburn curls bouncing on her shoulders. The receptionist had always been messy, yet somehow organized. “There were a few messages on the voicemail for you.” She raised her head and held out the pink slips of paper. “A lovely day today, is it not?”

“Sure is.” So I lied. The ghost hadn’t kicked off my day on a high note. Not as if I’d tell her about my interaction with spirits. My ability to converse with spirits remained on a need-to-know basis, and as far as it concerned me, no one needed to know. I grabbed the messages from her hand. “Did your weekend treat you good?”

“I spent the entire weekend knee-deep in my garden.” Her cocoa-colored eyes lit up. “My best year ever, I’m hoping. You’ll have to come out and have a look-see.”

“I’d love to.” Doris treasured her gardens, so I tried to appear interested, even though my green thumb looked black.

Her smile brightened, but when the phone rang, she waved a goodbye and answered the call. “It’s another beautiful day here at Randall Marketing, how may I direct your call?”

Leaving her behind, I strode down the hall toward my office and sipped my coffee. The warmth slid down my throat and provided an immediate rush to my energy levels. At the third door on the right, I entered my bleak workspace with its pale-blue walls, closed the door behind me and approached the desk. I dropped down into the black leather chair and flipped through the messages. None were urgent enough to worry about now.

I powered up my computer, but a knock at the door had me glancing up. Before I got a word out, the door swished open and I cringed, fully aware of the looming trouble.

Caley, the officer manager and my best friend since the age of four, looked like a typical Barbie. Perfect skin, long flowing blonde hair and a body men drooled over. I might have been jealous of her perfection since I couldn’t pull off her looks even with a makeover—so maybe a little envious—but her appearance had always been a front. She was the devil in disguise.

She scowled, shutting the door behind her with a slam. “Do you mind explaining where you were all weekend?”

“At home.” I batted my lashes. “Why? Did you try to call me?”

She pointed her finger, narrowing her eyes at me. “Don’t you try that shit on me. I called you all weekend and your phone went straight to voicemail.”

“Hmm…” I pretended to ponder. “The battery must have died.” She had enough gall to just come over, but the little hint had been a subtle way of telling Caley to leave me alone.

“Liar.” She plopped down in the seat across from my desk. “Where were you? I wanted to go out.”

“Nowhere. Honestly, I vegged on the couch.”

Caley snorted. “You lead such an exciting life.”

My mouth parted to offer a snappy retort, but a cold wisp of air brushed across my skin, causing my lips to snap shut. Damn! I thought I’d got rid of him.

“Hello.” Caley snapped her fingers in front of my face. “Leave the aliens behind and return to Mother Earth.”

I blinked, trying to force my attention back to her, yet failing. The ghost knelt right beside Caley—not kneeling, of course; more like floating, since ghosts were never able to obtain physical contact with the world around them—and my focus held strong on him, unable to stop myself from ogling. He stared intently, with one crystal-blue eye, while the other was a chocolate color. His strong jaw, the muscles clenching along his cheeks, all spoke of power. But as he ran his hand through his untidy sandy-colored hair, his expression showed playfulness. His black tank top left his arms exposed and muscles upon muscles layered those arms.

“Anyways,” she said, dragging my gaze back to her. “I had to go out with Susanne because you left me high and dry.”

I laughed. Caley’s horny, twenty-year-old stepsister had the body that men chased after. “You did have the option to stay home, you know.”

Her eyes widened. “On a Saturday night?”

“Yeah, you know, get some popcorn, watch a movie and relax.”

She frowned. “If you don’t stop your grandma behavior, your va-jay-jay is going to shrivel up and die.”

The ghost chuckled.

His smooth laugh hit me like a cup of warm cocoa, causing my insides to melt. Nothing amused me. First off, Caley had been so wrong—maybe a little right—but I’d never admit to her accuracy aloud. Second, reacting in such a heated way to a ghost definitely didn’t hit my to-do list today.

“Excuse me.” I spoke not only to Caley, but also to the irritating ghost. “My va-jay-jay is just fine.”

“Well, I’m glad to hear you’ve still got some spunk.” She stood and placed her hands on her hips. “Because we’ve got a double date tonight.”

“A what?” Dear God!

She grinned from ear to ear. “Yes, my dearest Grammy, we’re going out.”

“With who?”

“Two guys I met on Saturday night. You’re coming with me, either willingly or unwillingly, so suck up your hesitations, babe, because saying no isn’t an option.”

“But it’s a Monday night.” Not saying a date didn’t sound like fun. A month had passed since my last attempt at dating—which failed miserably—but a man Caley chose while drunk? No thanks. My sex life might have been as dead as the sexy ghost in front of me, but I’d still search for a way out. “I have to work tomorrow.”

She wagged her finger in classic Caley fashion. “You’re a grandma.”

Most times, I respected her persistent personality. She never backed down, always dreamed big and went for the gold, but her grit hadn’t been all rays of sunshine. Her determination made her annoyingly tenacious. I had to agree or she’d never give up, and getting her out of my office sounded all too good. “Fine. I’ll go with you.”

“Oh, stop looking so pissy. We’ll have fun. Promise. I’ll come to your place at eight.” She opened the door, glanced over her shoulder and winked. “Leave the granny panties at home.”

~*~

Stacey Kennedy’s novels are lighthearted fantasy with heart squeezing, thigh-clenching romance, and even give a good chuckle every now and again. But within the stories you’ll find fast paced action, life threatening moments and a big bad villain that needs to be destroyed. Her urban fantasy/paranormal and erotic romance series have hit Amazon Kindle and All Romance Ebooks Bestseller lists. If she isn’t plugging away at her next novel, tending to her two little ones, she’s got her nose deep in a good book. She lives in Ontario, Canada with her husband.

Be sure to drop her a line at www.staceykennedy.com, she loves to hear from her readers.

Contest ends 3/2/12 I will pick the winners via Random.org. Once the winners are picked I'll email them and post here. The winners then have 48 hours to reply if they don't reply in that time frame I will pick new winners and the previous ones will have forfeited their winnings.

Supernaturally Kissed By Stacey Kennedy

2012-02-24T03:18:00.000-05:00

Supernaturally Kissed
By Stacey Kennedy

Ghosts harass and annoy Tess Jennings to save their souls. Sometimes she helps them. Other times she ignores them. But one ghost will give her no choice.

Kipp McGowen, a cop with the Memphis Police Department, will stop at nothing to gain her help, including using his ghostly charms to seduce her.

Review: I'm utterly infuriated with this book! As I read I kept thinking ok Kipps just in a coma or something. Everything will be sorted out in the end. I kept reading just to find out if I was right and well who the killer was. Now I won't give anything away but lets just say I have to get my hands on book two.
I found myself really getting invested in Tess and Kipp. Kipp is this drop dead (excuse the pun) gorgeous, over protective, alpha male cop ghost. So how does a ghost be the hero of an erotic romance. OH MY Goodness does this book ever get creative. Tess our heroine is a very reluctant medium who is tough yet vulnerable at the same time. She very spunky but has girlish qualities that make her real. Both characters a super likable and I felt for them as the book progresses and you get to know them. At times the story really tugs on your heart strings.
Ms Kennedy gets really creative with the sex scene since Kipp and Tess can't touch they have to find ways to circumvent, at least when Tess is awake. Let's just say she has one doozy of a wet dream. I should probably mention the mystery aspect which was part of the whole reason I read this book. I found it pretty neat although not much police work is involved when you can just ask a ghost what happened yet it was still pretty neat and by the end I had it figured out. I did like that Ms Kennedy didn't get all crime drama and kept things real. Over all a very good story and I can't wait for book 2.

This product was provided to me free of charge in exchange for an unbiased review. This review is in compliance with the FTC guidelines.

Winners

2012-02-24T02:54:00.000-05:00

First I need to apologize for this being so late I haven't had my head on quite straight lately so I'm sorry.

Now Congrats to...

Winner of Trouble- Elizabeth Hyatt (BookAttict)

Winner of the Naughty Nights Giveaway Hop- Elie

I'll email you or send your info to the author depending on which you won.

Update

2012-02-21T06:57:00.000-05:00

Some of you might have noticed a drop in posting lately. This is because I've been dealing with some personal issues. I was even considering closing GNBS, I was ready to do it and might still, but I've put to much time and work into, it that I'm going to give it a fighting chance. Trust me I thought long and hard over all my options. On the other hand I can't put forth the effort I was. At least not right now. So GNBS is going to be limping along. I have some tours lined up not as many as in the past but some. I'm going to tackle my TBR list and get those of you who have been waiting your reviews. I'm very sorry about the wait, life just gets away from you sometimes. Right now I've reached a point where I don't want to deal with anything or anybody. So until I get my situation is rectified things will be slow around here.

First Kiss Feature

2012-02-18T07:12:00.000-05:00

My new release Through His Stomach is being featured over on Close Encounters with the Night Kind which is owned by my wonderful friend Nikki.

Swing by check out all the other great stuff she has going on and read about Becki and Paul's first kiss. Just so you know there's chocolate involved.

Through His Stomach

2012-02-16T01:09:00.000-05:00

Through His Stomach is a Valentine Short Story. It was supposed to be released yesterday but smashwords was down. So here it is now.

People say the best way to a man's heart is through his stomach.

Becki's first love has always been food. Her second love treats her like she's his little sister. Deciding to take and seduce Paul into realizing she isn't just his best.friend little sis. Becki uses her first love to catch her second.

Warning: this book contains inappropriate use of chocolate, and will make you hungry... for food and possibly other things.

Free on smashwords

ETA: I almost forgot - Bonus: At the end of the book are two recipes for chocolate body paint.

Naughty After Dark Blog Hop

2012-02-15T00:01:00.002-05:00

This is hosted by http://closeencounterswiththenightkind.blogspot.com/and http://natashablackthorneblog.blogspot.com/

My prize is a Bubbly Magenta Toy Friend from Babeland

To enter fill out the form below

This giveaway has ended.

And don't forget to check out all the other great giveaways...

Contest ends 2/22/12 I will pick the winners via Random.org. Once the winners are picked I'll email them and post here. The winners then have 48 hours to reply if they don't reply in that time frame I will pick new winners and the previous ones will have forfeited their winnings.

Winner of Seducing His Wife

2012-02-14T11:00:00.000-05:00

Congrats to

angelynscrimesofpassion

Guest Post by Ciara Lake

2012-02-10T05:45:00.002-05:00

Hello, thank you for having me as a guest on your blog. I am Ciara Lake and very excited to be part of this industry. As of December 2011, I have three books available to be purchased, The Triaxen, Xihirah, and The Ketchikan Man.

I just finished working on my next book in the Xihirian series, Tallusian Nights. The first book is Xihirah. You can purchase it at Siren Publishing. This series is about a universe at war. They are war with terrorist, the Realmist. These terrorist promote hate and intolerance. The fear they are causing is crippling the universe. Something must be done. A meeting to discuss the options to return peace to the universe is set up. This meeting brings together the hero and heroine, Kael and Saleeya on the planet Xihirah.

Xihirah is the military power of the universe and Kael is it's prince and military leader. He's a shape shifter, powerful warrior, handsome and charismatic politician. An alpha male like no other. Saleeya is an earthen human who was employed by the counsel of planets to serve as a communication specialist at the meeting. Talented and beautiful she meets the fierce warrior. When Kael sees the alluring beauty, he recognizes her to be his mate.

In Tallusian Nights, the next book in the Xihirian series, the war goes on between the Realmist and the rest of the universe. The Xihirian military comes to the planet Tallusia’s rescue. Princess Zalora Zimbali is rescued by Kael's son, Val. They have many heated nights in the wild forest of Tallusia. The Tallusians too are victims of the Realmist intolerance. Because they are different. Again, they too are feared and fear turns to prejudice and intolerance.

When creating the Xihirian series, I took a real problem from our world, hatred and prejudice putting it in a sci fi setting. Perhaps there are some messages in this series. Add in relationships, sex, love, and the Xihirian series comes to life. The Xihirian stories are erotic romances with all these and other exciting elements making it a fully enjoyable read.

In Tallusian Nights, Felix Tomron, the new leader of the Realmist encounters Val Braeden. They clash. Felix is out for revenge. Val must save his family from Felix’s torment.

It was very exciting to write Tallusian Nights. I truly love writing about interesting aliens and creating new worlds. Soon I will be submitting it to Siren to be published. Currently, I am editing for submission.

I’ve already planned out the next book, Fires of Zenite. This next story will be about Val’s Uncle, Kade Braeden. Kade is introduced in Tullusian Nights. He is a bad boy prince who is about to meet his perfect mate and have his adventure and romance in the stars on a very hot planet in the midst of a war reaching its climax. It always takes the right woman to settle a bad boy down and save him from himself.

Just before I started writing Tallusian Nights, I finished my first book in the Forsaken Series. I’m writing this series with Author Patricia Bates writing under pen name Elise Whyles. The series will feature a fantasy world filled with fantasy realms. The series will have dragons, elementals, vampires, Krevellians, trolls, merpeople, Greek gods, Norse gods, the enchanted forest, and more. Each book is a sensual experience for our readers. Both Elise and I are very excited. Stay tuned to read free micro novels on various characters along the way.

The second in this series will come out in Spring Summer of 2012 Curse of the Dragon’s Claim.

Blurb:

The world of the immortals exists parallel to ours. It’s a world of magic, danger and mystery. Immortals often travel to our realm. They live among us.

Vampires and Dragons have been at war for ages. Innocent humans and immortals have died as a result. Some unfortunate immortals have been forsaken to live ignorant as humans among us. A beautiful Forsaken, Arianna Mergliano will discover she’s something more than she ever imagined.

Clayne MacDagon, a powerful dragon warrior embittered by his twin’s death is sent on a mission to find the dracvipen. Seeing Arianna, he knows she is his fated mate. Embracing this truth, he takes her as his own. They suffer much at the hands of their enemies - nevertheless, their love helps them overcome all.

I am currently working on the next Forsaken book, its working title is The Waves of Time.

In October of 2011, eTreasure’s published The Ketchikan Man. This is a short story set in modern day, in the wilds of Alaska just outside Ketchikan. Leea, from Oklahoma, enjoys a texting relationship with Lucan. She works up the nerve to go meet him. It has its risks to meet people like this, but Leea’s adventure is wonderful. Leea learns about a paranormal world within our own, falling in love with a man who claims her as his mate. This is a sweet romance.

I just finished a book I’ve named An Angel for Avery. It is the first book in the series Avery’s Angels, the sons of Aiden. It's a modern day story taking place in Maine. Avery's a pastry chef at an historic Inn. Fresh out of college Avery's lonely and has some struggles. She's far from her home and family. One morning she wanders into Granny's Cupboard on Bay Street. There she finds a gorgeous cut glass antic ornament. An angel with a huge sword sparkles grabbing her attention. She purchases the ornament, makes a wish, and her life will never be the same. I have not decided where I will be submitting this book and series.

Additionally, I am starting another series with Elise Whyles with the working title, Akvo the Waters of Life. This series is in early stages, so stay tuned for more information. It’s great to come home each night and devote some time creating wonderful worlds and adventures. It's refreshing to think about romances that are committed and forever. After all, in my fictional worlds there’s a big difference from the world I work in, divorce court. There’s always a happy ending in my books.

Also, check out The Triaxen, the first book I had published. If you like vampire stories, you'll love this story too. This is also available at Siren Publishing. Krevan Vallex, the hero, is strong, fast, with a bite only for his mate. It’s a great story with a lot of action. Both the hero and the heroine are running from their pasts into each other’s arms.

Thank you to Naughty in the Stacks for this opportunity to blog, connecting with my readers and potential readers. And thank you to all the readers who enjoy my adventures in love. If you have not read one of my books yet, please enjoy submerging yourself in a fantastic adventure.

Ciara Lake
www.ciaralakeromanceauthor.com
www.ciaralakeromancebooks.com

Guest Post Sable Hunter

2012-02-09T05:28:00.022-05:00

SABLE AND THE DRAGON

“Naughty Between the Stacks” – I love it. It conjures up such raunchy images. I love to get naughty between the stacks of books or the bales of hay or even the leather furniture in my living room. So – I think – I shall fit right in here.

Thank you, Nanny, for allowing me to visit with you and your readers. I have been writing for about three years and I have – to date – ten books published with two more to be out before spring is over. I write erotic romances – usually with a Texas or a Louisiana flair. I claim both states as home – now, whether they claim me is another story. Right now, I’m gearing up for Mardi Gras. We have been enjoying some cool weather and I love to make gumbo or chili and eat it in front of the fire place – makes you wanna cuddle with a handsome hunk. Of course – my writing always gets me in the mood for sex. That’s one of the hazards – by-products – perks, whatever you want to call it – of writing erotic romance. My readers have a particular word for my stories – they call them tender-porn. Because my books are written to elicit certain emotions – I write to make you laugh, cry and sweat. If I can do that – I have succeeded.

Recently, I decided to up the ante in my technological instruments. I have become the owner of a full-fledged, decked out iphone and an apparatus called a dragon. And neither one of them are working like they are supposed to. Let me share – I need to tell somebody. First, let’s discuss this telephone which I use almost exclusively for business purposes. Of course - my business is sex or sexy writing. I speak with my beta, my publisher, my editor – my promo person – and lots of readers. Often I use four letter words. My writing is full of four letter words and other words meant to convey pleasure, body parts or just exclamations of erotic joy. You know what I mean.

Many times I have heard and read jokes about phones automatically correcting words and making them into words not intended by the sender. For example – here is a joke I recently had sent to me in an email. These are inadvertent autocorrects – first one between a mother and daughter: “How’s Uncle Peter getting to the reception?” the daughter asks. “PETER IS COMING IN MY VULVA,” the mom texts back. “Uhhhhh” the daughter is about to die. The mom continues trying to correct, “PETER IS COMING IN MY VULVA at 7 pm.” “Volvo, mom?” she hopes. “YES, VULVA.”

Second one – A girl texts a boy. “Thank you for an amazing first date.” The guy texts back – “Anytime – smile. When’s the 2^nd date. I can’t wait to see those big beautiful nipples of yours.” The guy realizes – “NO!” “I meant to say dimples – my phone corrected!” Silence from the other party. “I did not intend to write nipples. I’m going to jump off a bridge now.”

I am here to tell you that the foregoing is a crock!! Your phone will not do that. I try to use words like that – and my phone tries to correct my dirty words and make them clean words. I won’t give you any specific examples – but take my word for it – it does not know nor does it recognize the euphemisms for penis or for vagina. I get so tired ofbacking up and recorrecting the corrections - - although, I will tell you this – my little phone is coming around. It’s finally getting a potty mouth. You can teach an old dog – uh phone – new tricks. Speaking of dogs. . . . . .

Now, my other contraption is a program I bought to allow me to speak into my computer and it will type for me. Now, this sounds great. Just imagine what I could be doing with my hands. When you consider what I write – and my propensity for getting involved in my scenes - I’ll let you use your imagination. ANYWAY!!! It didn’t work out quite like I planned. For two reasons. First, like my phone – it didn’t like dirty words. They ought to make these things just for smut writers – they’d make a killing. It’s difficult to enunciate COCK any clearer than I already do. AND – my dragon does not like a Southern accent. Apparently, it cannot follow a drawl. And when you add a TWANG to it – it just goes crazy. I speak Texan with a bit of a Coonass accent and I tell you this – after I recite a section of my book – the outcome is nothing like what I wanted.

Now for the killer – the straw that broke the proverbial techno advance effort in two. I have a dog. I have a wiener dog named Mojo that I absolutely adore and we go everywhere together. If I write in the bedroom – he’s there. If I try to compose in the kitchen while cooking my orgasmic brownies – he’s there. If I decide to jot a few lines while sitting on the potty – he’s there. If I go out on the porch and rock in my rocking chair and write while sipping a mint julep (margarita, who am I kidding?) he’s there. Now one day – after I had dreamed up a scene that I thought my dragon could understand – I had worked out the kinks with the profanity and Northerned up my speech patterns. So, I lay on the bed beside my computer and we had a chat. I was deep in Tebow country, describing those luscious cowboy McCoys and their tight jeans and the not-so-little bulges behind their zippers. I was extolling the virtues of their wide shoulders, narrow waists and corrugated abs. I thought I had got somewhere. After finishing a scene – I rolled over to look at it. Now, what you’ve got to understand is that I’m with my dog all the time – and when you’re with something all the time – you don’t pay as much attention to it as you normally would. Much to my surprise – here is what I ended up with. Let me share two sentences with you. “Isaac McCoy straddled BARK BARK – BARK BARK – his Harley and revved the engine. Avery, BARK BARK – BARK BARK – looked at him with lust in her BARK BARK eyes.” Do you see my problem? I have laid down the dragon and went back to fingering my laptop and foregoing the pleasure of having my hands free. But – I think you will like the result.

I have a Beta and she keeps me straight. And I have those who read my work and give me their honest opinions. Those are the best tools (boy that doesn’t sound right) in my life. Electronic gadgets have their place – but the greatest tool in my life (beside the one in my honey’s Levi’s) is my dirty, dirty imagination.

Let me share an excerpt with you from MY ALIYAH – HEART IN CHAINS – TEXAS HEAT II. It was released last month by Secret Cravings Publishing.

Here’s the blurb.

Tough Tyler Landon is fit to be tied! He feels he is about to lose his man card. After witnessing a Mexican drug lord commit a murder, Ty finds himself on the cartel's hit list. That's bad enough, but when he finds that the agency has assigned a female Mossad agent to protect him - he decides to seduce her into submission. Tyler is a man's man - a Sexual Dom - a Texas Ranger who lives by the motto - One Riot-One Ranger. But, when he meets Aliyah Sharon - he finds that he has met his match.

And the buylink - http://store.secretcravingspublishing.com/index.php?main_page=book_info&products_id=237

Please join me anytime at my website – sablehunter.com or email me at sablehuntertx@gmail.com. I will answer you the old fashioned way – so there won’t be any BARKS.

Here’s a couple of excerpts from MY ALIYAH – one sorta nice and one sorta dirty - enjoy and thanks for reading.

For a few minutes nothing was said. There was just thick, tense, deep quiet. Ty was trying to digest the information. Mossad? She had to be kidding. Right? He loved to give her a hard time; she was just so damn cute when she was angry. But what if she was telling the truth? There had to be some reason Alvarez was convinced she was the best person to keep him breathing. Could this soft, luscious little morsel actually be a deadly Mossad agent? He was trying hard, really hard, to wrap his brain around it. Nah! It couldn’t be possible. He had met a couple of Mossad in the past. They were the meanest, most vicious, sons of bitches he had ever been around. Okay, he’d give her the benefit of the doubt—for now. But she was definitely going to have to offer him some kind of proof. Ty muddled through what he knew. How was he going to deal with her? Analyzing the situation, he decided he had some options. One, he could fall in with her plan and be a meek, good Ranger and let the supposed Mossad agent stand between him and the big, bad Mexicans. Two, they could fight about it, work at odds, and possibly both get killed. Or three—and his personal favorite—he could lull her with hot sex, wear her out physically, and then when she was too satisfied and sated to care he would show her who was boss.

Option three brought a smile to his face. So, yes definitely, option three, and it certainly wasn’t going to be a hardship. He wanted her so badly he couldn’t see straight. No time like the present to put the plan in action.

First, distraction.

“So, I guess you’re Israeli?”

At his obvious question, Aliyah burst out laughing. “How astute of you! Correct.”

Second, sweet talk.

“Do you know how beautiful you are?” His voice was thick and low, heavy with lust.

Aliyah seemed so startled and shocked by his second comment, she almost ran off the road. “No,” she answered too quickly, “and do not start trying to snow me!” she scolded him. “Our situation is far too critical to take lightly. My looks or lack of them has no bearing on the task at hand.” She sat up just a little straighter in the seat, and seemed to pull away from him the slightest bit.

Undeterred, he stayed on course. Funny, it felt like more than a plan, maybe because everything he was saying was true. Get a grip, Landon! “When you looked into my eyes, Aliyah, did you feel that same electric attraction thing that I do?” She didn’t answer, so he forged ahead, intent on her seduction. “There is a familiar feeling, like we knew each other before.” He paused for effect, picking up one chunky curl of midnight soft hair. He turned it loose because she shot him a look that told him he was about to draw back a nub. Fearless, Ty forged ahead, taking his own life in his hands. “If we’re going to be spending so

much time together, we might as well enjoy ourselves.” Pause. Pause. “Would you like to be my woman, Aliyah?” Even though it started out as a calculated come-on, Tyler’s cock was definitely sitting up and taking notice.

If his words had not made her feel both pissed off and depressed, she might have found his calculated bullshit funny. Did she want to be his woman? How chauvinistic could you get? It was better to ignore the fact that her heart was beating faster and his seductive voice was making her panties damp. “No, I do not feel the need to be your woman,” she answered in a half laugh. “Ranger

Landon, it would be better for the mission if you do not think of me as a female; that is my standard practice.” Her voice was tight, as if what she said brought her a hint of pain.

Her words got a rise out of Tyler. “Are you crazy, doll-face? I have never seen a more beautiful, perfect woman.” He leaned toward her; she could feel his breath on her cheek. “Not think of you as female? Ask me to do the impossible, why don’tcha? I could easier catch a bolt of lightning in the palm of my hand or stop the sun from rising than think of you as less than a woman. Aliyah, you are

sexy and exciting as hell. I want you; I’ve wanted you from the first moment I saw you. There is no way I’m going to be able to keep my hands off of you. In fact, the first moment you stop this car, I’m going to kiss you till your eyes cross.”

She drew in a sharp breath and looked over at him, expecting to see a grin that would tell her he was teasing her.

Instead, he appeared to be dead serious, and so compelling that her nipples began to peak once more. Quickly, she wiggled in the seat, trying to angle her body away from him so he wouldn’t see her blatant arousal. She wasn’t successful. She felt one of his strong fingers touch the hard nubbin of one nipple as it poked out through her bra and shirt. “Beautiful. What color are they?” Tyler had been bold enough to extend that finger to her side of the car and onto her body—he wouldn’t be so lucky getting it back.

Aliyah grabbed the offending finger and bent it in such a way to make him think twice before invading her personal space unbidden again. “Hell, woman!” he yelled. “You nearly broke my damn finger!”

“Do not touch without permission,” she told him sternly. He didn’t apologize. He didn’t say anything, he just sat there holding his finger, looking at her like he couldn’t quite believe what she had done. Aliyah almost felt sorry for him. Apparently, he wasn’t used to his amorous advances being shot down. “We should not make light. We must stay focused; your life is at stake.” Aliyah

willed her body under control. She couldn’t afford to let down her guard. A man like Ty Landon would never want the real Aliyah. Better he be pushed away now than her be pushed away later.

The next words out of Tyler’s mouth almost made her laugh.

“Well, if I’m going to die, Aliyah, at least I want to die happy.” He just wouldn’t quit. She could not believe he was picking up right where he left off. He kept his fingers on his side of the console, but he did lean close. “Answer me, baby. I need to know. You can trust me; I promise not to touch anymore without asking—or reading your signals. What color are your nipples, Ah-Lee-Ah? I bet they taste as sweet as candy.”

Ty kept pushing; he was doing his best to get to her. And to tell the truth, he was succeeding. Never before had she felt such a driving need to get close to a man. Perhaps it was the danger that was hot on his trail making her want to protect him and live every moment to its fullest. Still, she was tempted to give him a signal that he could read clearly, a bird, perhaps? Aliyah

didn’t pause to determine why, but she decided to humor him. “Not that you need to know, but they’re rose colored, I guess,” she answered quietly. Why was she playing his game? She was only going to get hurt. “Enough of that. Let’s talk about something else, something important.”

She had her right hand resting on the gear shift between them. Without asking, he covered her hand with his own, and immediately began to rub it sensuously. Currents of awareness rippled up and down her body. “Okay, we’ll talk, but I want to touch.” He picked her hand up and brought it over to rest right on top of his crotch. Unbelievable. Aliyah didn’t know whether to kill him or kiss him.

Adult Excerpt

Aliyah jerked awake. She had been touched! Every battle instinct that she had went on red alert. Slipping the knife from her thigh, she flipped her attacker onto his back and held him at her mercy. With one slight move she had the knife right where it could do the most good. The tip end of it nestled at the base of a tender sac. The only thing saving her nemesis was his thin BVDs. About two seconds later, she was awake enough to realize it was Ty she had waylaid. She remembered where she was and how she got there. Still, opportunity was knocking and Aliyah was nothing if not resourceful. A quick thinker, she decided to play the hand she had been dealt. “All right, Ranger Landon. Do I have your attention?”

“Undivided.” She had to give him credit, he appeared to be nonplussed. “I’m sort of attached to my business, baby. What did I do to get your dander up?”

“You must have touched me in your sleep. This is how I react when I’m startled out of my slumber.” She could feel his cock pressing against her. It was hard and throbbing. Had he been like this all night? Poor baby. Mustering up her courage, she decided to make the most of the situation.

“I will do you no permanent damage, if you cooperate.” She kissed him on the end of the nose. It was almost dark in the room, but she could still see his face quite clearly. To say he looked surprised was putting it lightly. “You are a living doll, Ranger. Would you like to be my man?”

Ty chuckled. “You turned the tables on me.” With a seemingly effortless twist of his body, he rolled her over until he had her pressed securely into the mattress beneath him. “The knife to my twig and berries wasn’t necessary, sweetheart, there’s nothing I’d rather be than your man.”

Aliyah was careful not to stick him as she pulled the knife from between them. Instead of using it on him, she threw it to the floor. For this she needed both hands. Edging one knee and one leg out from under him, Aliyah put an arm around his neck as if she were about to pull him down for a kiss. Instead, she applied unexpected pressure to a few strategically placed nerves, and flipped the two hundred fifty plus pounds of cowboy to his back. Now, she was on top, astraddle an erection as big and hard as an iron pipe.

“Oh, baby!” He laughed. “I’m going to enjoy playing with you.” With slow, caressing movements, he slipped his hands under her tank top. “What did you have in mind, Ah-Lee-Ah? You gotta know I’ll do most anything you ask, jump through a hoop, take a long run on a short pier. I’m yours for the taking.”

Moving slightly, she took hold of his hands, pulling them away from the bare skin of her back. She didn’t want him to find the scars—couldn’t bear to see the look of disgust and rejection on his face when he realized exactly who she was and what she’d had to do to survive. Kissing him across his brow, down the bridge of his nose, Aliyah trembled on top of him. “This is for the good of the mission. Our sexual tension, it is causing too much distraction. Now, lay perfectly still, or I will

have to temporarily paralyze you.” She smiled so radiantly at him, that he started to volunteer for the paralysis, but he really, really wanted to participate in this sensual exercise. “Take off your underwear,” she ordered.

Without arguing, Ty raised his hips up and shucked his shorts. “Take off yours,” he urged, obviously aroused.

“My nakedness will not be required for this encounter.” She wiggled around until she fit her damp, silk-covered center over his engorged cock. Tyler moaned his appreciation at the erotic contact. “I don’t mean to put in, doll-face. This is

your rodeo, but it would all go in a lot smoother if there wasn’t so much material clogging up the works.” He caught his breath as she started to ease herself up and down over his tumescence. Her clit dragged deliciously over the hard ridge of his flesh. Stop! she warned herself, her pleasure was not what this was about. She stilled, knowing she could not allow any intimacy on her part without revealing to him her sordid history. All the background information she had dredged up on him told her that he was a good man, while she was unworthy to lace his shoes.

“I want inside you,” Ty growled, trying to push her underwear aside. “Now!” he demanded.

Aliyah captured both of his hands within her own. “We do this my way or not at all. Understand?” She was talking big, but Aliyah was so excited she was already damp with desire. “I am in control.”

Ty clenched his teeth. “Hell! Fine! Whatever you say! Just please, for God’s sake, take off your top and let me suck on those sweet tits!”

His demand fired up her blood. For a moment, she debated the issue, then giving in to both of their needs, she surrendered on that point. Lifting her arms over her head she pulled the tank top off, revealing honey colored breasts tipped with nipples that were puffed up with passion, stiff and distended, seemingly reaching for his lips.

“Sweet Jesus,” he breathed. “How fuckin’ perfect can you get?” Reverently, he touched them, one in each hand, like he was testing their weight. Running his palms up the sides of the generous mounds, he circled them languorously. “I have never seen more beautiful breasts. Do you like that, Ah-Lee-Ah?”

“Oh, yes,” she sighed as she fought not to scrub her pussy over him. Her labia lips were cupped over his girth as if they were two pieces of the same puzzle—they fit like a matching set. “But do you have to say my name like it has seven syllables?” Laughing, she decided to enjoy the moment, so she put her hands over his, pressing them into the flesh of her breasts. “Harder,” she demanded.

He found her nipples with his fingers and began milking them with sure, toe-curling strokes. Aliyah leaned into his hands, the joy she was receiving from his touch was a thousand times more than she had imagined. “Suck them, Tyler. I need your mouth on me!”

At her bidding, he anxiously brought his lips to her breast. “Mmmm, I’ve dreamed of getting these into my mouth. Let’s see if they taste as good as they look.”

Aliyah closed her eyes in ecstatic bliss as he began to lave and suck and pull and suckle. Ty wasn’t quiet about it either. He expressed his enjoyment in moans and grunts of appreciation. Grasping his head with both hands, she kissed him on top of his soft brown hair repeatedly as he nursed at her breast.

“I want you!” he gritted, letting one nipple pop from his mouth. “I can’t stand it. I’m about to explode!”

She wanted him, more than she had ever wanted anyone or anything in her life, but her sense of decency held her back. Aliyah wasn’t ready to bare her heart and soul, and until she could do that, she would not go all the way with him. Instead, she would give him relief. “I will take care of you.”

Before he could say Judge Roy Bean, she had slid down until her mouth was level with his penis. “Aliyah, what are you doing?” He tried to pull her up, but she held back. “I want to make love to you.” He knew his voice had a hard, desperate edge to it.

“Patience, baby, I am going to make love to you.”

Sable has offered to give one lucky reader a copy of Trouble.

To enter fill out the form below.

&amp;amp;amp;lt;p&amp;amp;amp;gt;Loading...&amp;amp;amp;lt;/p&amp;amp;amp;gt;

Contest ends 2/16/12 I will pick the winners via Random.org. Once the winners are picked I'll email them and post here. The winners then have 48 hours to reply if they don't reply in that time frame I will pick new winners and the previous ones will have forfeited their winnings.

Interviewing Cree Walker

2012-02-08T06:06:00.002-05:00

Hi Cree Thanks for joining me Between the Stacks. Ready to get Naughty? Great let hop right to the Q&A.

Why write erotic stories?

To be quit honest I actually never set out to write erotica. But as I was writing my first novel I felt so passionate about my main characters and the bond they shared that cutting out the physical aspect of their romance left me feeling as if I would be cheating my readers out of that aspect of the story.

When did you start writing erotic stories?

I would assume most people start writing erotica while they are teenagers, as did I. There is nothing better for that facet of the imagination than the overwhelming onslaught of adolescent hormones and pent up frustrations to make one put pen to paper and work out some of the finer points of ones fantasies.

What sort of research did you do?

It wasn’t so much research as my natural curiosity with nature and an obsessive love of reading paranormal romance. As far as the Werewolf aspect of my story I have always had an interest in natural wolves and the more I read about them the more I realized they have a fascinating and complex political and emotional family bond that is very similar to ours. But the one thing that really grabbed my attention was an article I read while in college about the union between one particular alpha male and female of a wolf pack being studied by a biology student in the northern territories of western Canada.

Wolves mate for life; it is a strong and beautiful bond few humans would be able to understand. In this particular pack the alpha female was seriously injured while hunting. She was not immediately killed from her injuries and her mate as well as the rest of the pack tried nursing her back to health by returning from successful hunts with food and denning with her on cold nights to keep her warm, but despite their best efforts the alpha female finally succumbed to her injuries and died. Now in most cases the alpha male would then take on another mate, but in this case he did not. He stopped hunting, stopped eating and stopped drinking. His pack tried to pull him from his depression but with-in days of his mate’s passing he died as well.

Couple this with my love to read anything paranormal I can get my hands on and it was inevitable. But whenever I picked up a werewolf novel I was always struck by the fact that the family bond and political aspect of wolves was rarely mentioned and I wanted to exploited this most human of their behaviors into a novel based on an unwavering loyalty and romance that goes way beyond the physical.

What is the strangest reaction you have gotten when you tell people you are a writer?

My writing was such a serious secret in the beginning that I had a computer crash while I was half way through my first novel and I didn’t want to risk the tech guy finding out I was a writer. So instead of going to a professional to see if he would be able to pull my manuscript from the fried hard-drive I re-wrote the whole thing. Today when I tell people I’m about to have my first book published they look at me as if I’ve just sprouted a second head and its singing opera. Just the other day I told a co-worker my deep dark secret and she was speechless for nearly a minute, then she said, “I knew you could draw but…well I didn’t know you were a writer?” The levis and tough girl attitude kind of throw people off my trail, that way.

After reading through your blog I have to wonder how much of you is in Sugar, the main character in your book?

I think in the beginning I created Sugar Lubec to vent some of my then frustrations with my own past and my difficulties in finding full time employment in the area along with having to work 5 part time jobs to stay warm in the winter. But though Sugar and I do share some similarities I believe it is because she is loosely based on my birth mother. The one thing I always envied about her was her ability to be completely, bordering on psychotically honest about her emotions. If she was happy, she laughed, if she was sad, she cried, but if she was mad…well there was a reason my father started hiding the shot gun. I think if I were to say Sugar possessed any of my qualities it would have to me my loyalty, to a fault and my very protective nature. I wasn’t the type of girl to defend myself during a fight but if someone was hurting a sibling or friend, all bets were off and I did gain a reputation of sorts for protecting those around me.

What was your inspiration for Whisper on a Scream?

You know how dreams can feel a lot longer than they actually are? Well, I think thoughts can feel that way sometimes too. I was riding in my car when a song came on the radio. It was a song I’d always liked, but I was in the zone and suddenly the entire story came flooding into my head with such clarity and inspiration that it was all I could think about until I got home and sat down in front of the computer. I went on a four day long typing marathon, so scared that I’d forget anything or lose my train of thought if I stopped for too long so my breaks consisted of the bathroom and short naps only.

Finally can you tell us what you have coming up?

Well I’m happy and proud to say that the sequel of Whisper on a Scream has been accepted for publication through Naughty Nights Press and it will be available mid-summer 2012. The name of the second novel is Willing Sacrifice and it continues on with Sugar as the main character. I’d love to tell you more about it but I’d hate to ruin the first novel of anyone looking to read it. Currently, I am writing the third installment in the series, yet unnamed but I sadly for my editor I still haven’t introduced a vampire into the storyline.

Thank you for talking with us Cree.

Whisper on a Scream by Cree Walker

The werewolves are dying. Years of war between the Born werewolves and bitten, along with a lack of healthy bloodlines, has taken its toll on the race and if something isn’t done soon they will all be gone within the next fifty years. They are a strong breed, but they have one major weakness that will probably end them all. Werewolves like their natural counterpart - the wolves breed for life; and if there is no mate, there is no life. A prolonged separation between mates can kill them more efficiently than any bullet ever could, and the Council are playing with fire when they use this very weakness against Sugar Lubec, the Born daughter of two Bitten parents, to carry the off-spring of Alpha Jack Coon. He is the leader of the largest werewolf pack in North America. Ending the war between the two groups is the only thing that can save the werewolves and bring Jack and Sugar together, but can they do it before they end up paying the ultimate price for their long separation; or will that price be the only thing that can end the war?

Sugar is the daughter of two bitten werewolf parents. When born, werewolf Jack is sent out by the Council to eliminate the daughter of their greatest enemy he thinks his chance for revenge has finally come - that is until he meets Sugar for the first time. Now he has to not only convince the Council that Sugar isn't a threat to them, but that she maybe the very key to save their dying race.

Guest Post by Veronica Scott

2012-02-07T05:59:00.000-05:00

Priestess of the Nile

Veronica Scott

Taking placed in 1500 BC, Ancient Egypt, Priestess of the Nile tells an unusual love story:

Drawn to his abandoned temple on the banks of the Nile by an enchanting song, Sobek the Crocodile God is even more captivated by the sight of the singer herself. Appearing to her as a man, he learns she is Merys, a descendant of his last priestess. Though filled with lust, Sobek believes Merys deserves to be more than just his mistress. But the rules that govern the Egyptian pantheon forbid anything beyond a physical joining of a Great One and a human.

Merys is attracted to the handsome stranger, who arouses passions in her that no man ever has. But with no dowry and no hope of ever leaving her village, she dares not dream of the future—or love.

Sobek takes every opportunity to visit Merys, taxing his resolve to leave her pure. When he saves her life, their mutual desire must be sated. But can a love between a human and an immortal survive the ultimate test of the gods? Realizing how close he came to losing Merys, Sobek can’t deny his passion for her as the following excerpt shows:

Bek broke off the kiss and took his weight on his own elbows, focusing on her with heavy-lidded eyes. “Merys, I want you. My body has ached for yours since we first met. But are you sure you want to give yourself to me like this? Here, on a beach? I can’t promise you any of the things you said you wanted, certainly none of what you deserve, nothing beyond the moments we steal in this place. Marriage, children, a home—these are forbidden for a god and a mortal to share. There are rules I must obey. There are obligations I have to fulfill.”

“I love you.” She kissed his jaw, his throat, his lips. “I just want to be with you. I want to give myself to you.”

He stroked her hair, gazing into her face. “You just escaped death. Perhaps you aren’t thinking clearly. Emotions run high at such times. You need to be very sure about this. Humans value virginity so highly. Don’t give it yourself to me lightly. There’s no undoing such a decision, sweetheart.”

“I don’t care. What if I had died there in the river? What if the crocodile had killed me? I never would have known what it would be like to lie with a man, to lie with you.” She buried her face against his muscular chest. “I’m so tired of being unloved, unfulfilled. I’ve wanted you for so long, I won’t change my mind. Please, Sobek.”

He took a deep breath, nodded and reached to tug and pull at the rags of her simple linen dress, working it off over her head, admiring every inch of her body as he did so. “You are so beautiful, Merys, don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

And the scene goes on from there, an evening of passion on a secluded Egyptian beach along the Nile. (An author has to tease and toy with the Readers a bit in a guest post, doesn’t she?) The narrative gets pretty hot, one reviewer said “explicit”, another said “sensual” – well, Sobek and Merys are adults and they have strong feelings for each other. No apologies from me!

When I first started writing, long before I was published, I used to do the sort of bashful old fashioned scene where the door would close, the surf crashed….oh and look at that, next morning already! Nothing to see here, no descriptions. It takes a while for most writers to get comfortable creating the aura and emotions of a love scene that really takes you into the minds and bodies of the hero and heroine, arousing you along with them.

There are books on the craft of writing a good, hot bedroom scene. I read a few. I even bought Tantric Sex For Dummies or something similar at one point! But the writing still felt too mechanical, correct but not stirring, not emotional. I was worrying about elbows and knees and more interesting appendages, and did tab A fit into slot B or had they already done that and now they were on to something else….my muse screamed, “Stop! Enough!”

I realized, for me, the sex scene between my hero and his lady had to flow right out of the action that preceded it and the emotions they were feeling for each other right then, the aching desire and the warm tenderness. There was no way to do the story and the lovers justice if I said “insert sex scene here”, wrote the whole book and then went back to plunk in some choreographed interlude in the sheets (or on the shores of the Nile). I dialed up good mood music on the iPod, closed my eyes and tried to put myself in the scene as they clung to each other on the beach, having come so perilously close to eternal separation without ever making love to each other. Opening my eyes, I wrote….and Sobek and Merys came together as lovers for the first time and gave each other pleasure.

Do you have a favorite place for characters to make love?

Priestess of the Nile

By Veronica Scott

Blurb:

Merys is attracted to the handsome stranger, who arouses passions in her that no man ever has. But with no dowry and no hope of ever leaving her village, she dares not dream of the future—or love.

Priestess of the Nile excerpt:

Chapter One

The old abandoned temple remained one of his favorite spots along the Nile, overlooking the river from a small bluff, with a deserted beach below. Bek stood gazing across the sparkling water at bronze- and black-spotted crocodiles sunbathing in the final rays of the setting sun. A breathtaking mix of colors stained the sky as the Goddess Nuit spread her cloak across the heavens, sprinkling the black velvet with stars.

A beautiful soprano voice rose from the beach below the bluff. Bek recognized the words of a familiar old song, given new meaning by the hypnotizing, alluring voice. I must see this songbird. She’s cast some kind of spell over me.

He strolled along the path from the ruins toward the beach. Taking the last turn on the trail, he walked out on the sand and found the woman. She waded in the water, casting a small fishing net and retrieving it, every once in a while picking out a wriggling silver fish and throwing it into a waiting basket on the beach.

Her ample breasts flashed into view when she leaned over. She had kilted her skirt to her thighs, revealing shapely legs. Long ebony hair was caught behind her ears with combs in the shape of seashells.

Wouldn’t I like to take those combs out and see her hair tumble down—she’s as beautiful as her voice. He must have made some sound. She stopped singing and wheeled, taking an involuntary step deeper into the river at the sight of him, a stranger. Her face paled under her tan and her eyes opened wide as she staggered, caught by an eddy of the current.

“Don’t be frightened, please. I mean you no harm.” He held his hands up, palms out, and smiled. “I heard your singing and it drew me here. I only wanted to give my thanks for the concert.”
She laid one hand on her graceful throat, toying with an amulet on a thong. “You startled me.” Poised to bolt, the girl appeared wary, probably planning an attempt to run past him.

“I apologize.” He kicked off his sandals and waded into the water at an angle from her. The net drifted lazily in a whirlpool; he reached out and caught it, lifting the tangled strands from the river.

“Oh, don’t! You’ll ruin your fine kilt, sir.” She came to him hastily and took the net from his hands. “The river runs muddy at this time of the year. Your servants will labor in vain to get the stains out.”

He glanced at his waist. Oh yes, I did choose to wear the pleated white kilt of a nobleman. He followed her to the shore as she splashed through tiny waves with her net. “Fortunately, I have no servants to worry with such things.”

While putting his sandals on, Bek frowned at the Nile crocodiles lying deceptively immobile on the opposite bank, then glanced at her. “You take great risks, walking into the river with those beasts nearby.”

One of the animals twitched. Bek glared at it. The creature met his eyes for a second, then settled onto the sand.

“Oh, I’m not afraid. I’m protected.” She was busy folding the net and packing it into a compartment in the lid of her fish creel. She didn’t even spare a moment to consider the predators across the water.

He coughed to cover his instinctive laugh. “Protected? And exactly how are you warded against attack?”

She stood briskly, raised her chin and tugged an amulet free of her dress to show him. It was a small green stone crocodile hanging on a frayed black leather thong. “My great-grandmother was the last priestess of the temple on the bluff above.”

He indicated the amulet. “May I see it?”

The girl unlooped the cord from her neck and handed the necklace over. “Great-Grandmother told me the amulet was blessed by the Crocodile God himself and would protect me from his creatures.” Bek chuckled, holding the tiny figurine in his large meaty hand. “Mighty protection indeed.” He momentarily closed the pendant in his fist, then tossed it to her with a slight bow.

“Nonetheless, you shouldn’t take such chances. Crocodiles are crafty and fierce.”
When she refastened the amulet the stone pendant fell between her shapely breasts. She unkilted her skirts and the simple dress fell to her ankles. As she bent to lift her basket of fish Bek put his hand atop hers on the handle. She gave him a wide-eyed glance but stepped aside to let him lift her burden.

“Thank you, sir. I’m going to sit in the shade and eat my dinner now.” She pointed at the nearby grove of palms. “Would you care to join me?”

“I’m not hungry, but I’ll sit if you don’t object. An hour of good conversation is a pleasant way to end the day.”

She peeked sideways at him while she walked. Eventually she smiled shyly. “I’m grateful for the company. My name is Merys.” She stood nearly as tall as him, unusual in a woman, but he found it distinctly attractive. Her face was lovely, oval and browned by the sun, which set off her sparkling black eyes. She was all lush curves and smooth skin—his cock stirred with lust but he restrained his arousal.

She seems to be an innocent maiden, of good family by her educated speech, not a woman to be lightly trifled with for an afternoon. He realized he was standing rooted to one spot, lost in admiration of her beauty. Shaking his head, he started walking again. “Call me Bek.”

“A propitious name for this place, if your naming was in tribute to the Crocodile God.” Merys slanted a look at him sideways and chuckled. “Are you a merchant? Is your ship anchored somewhere nearby?” Not waiting for an answer, she sank bonelessly under the tallest palm. Lifting a shawl that lay draped there across some wicker hampers, she pulled out a hard roll filled with dried meat.
Bek set the stinking fish creel on the sand well away from where he planned to sit, but safely in the shade. He lowered himself into a cross-legged position and leaned against the tree, hands clasped behind his neck. “I travel along the Nile quite often, yes.”

She blinked and raised her eyebrows. He hadn’t precisely answered either of her questions but she didn’t press the matter. “Did you come to see the temple ruins?”

He nodded. The truth, as far as it goes.

About Veronica Scott:

Veronica Scott grew up in a house with a library full of books as its heart, and when she ran out of things to read, she started writing her own stories. Married young to her high school sweetheart then widowed, Veronica has two grown daughters, one young grandson and cats.

Veronica's life has taken many twists and turns, but she always makes time to keep reading and writing. Everything is good source material for the next novel or the one after that anyway, right? She's been through earthquakes, tornadoes and near death experiences, although nothing is as stressful as meeting a book deadline. Always more stories to tell, new adventures to experience--Veronica's personal motto is, "Never boring."

Web & Social Media:

http://veronicascott.wordpress.com/

http://twitter.com/#!/vscotttheauthor

https://www.facebook.com/pages/Veronica-Scott/177217415659637

http://www.amazon.com/Veronica-Scott/e/B006CUCJ92/ref=ntt_dp_epwbk_0

http://community.harlequin.com/blogs/veronica-scott

Priestess of the Nile By Veronica Scott

2012-02-07T05:55:00.001-05:00

Priestess of the Nile
By Veronica Scott

Drawn to his abandoned temple on the banks of the Nile by an enchanting song, Sobek the Crocodile God is even more captivated by the sight of the singer herself. Appearing to her as a man, he learns she is Merys, a descendant of his last priestess. Though filled with lust, Sobek believes Merys deserves to be more than just his mistress. But the rules that govern the Egyptian pantheon forbid anything beyond a physical joining of a Great One and a human.

Merys is attracted to the handsome stranger, who arouses passions in her that no man ever has. But with no dowry and no hope of ever leaving her village, she dares not dream of the future—or love.

Sobek takes every opportunity to visit Merys, taxing his resolve to leave her pure. When he saves her life, their mutual desire must be sated. But can a love between a human and an immortal survive the ultimate test of the gods?

Review: This was an emotional short for me, While a quick read it was intense. I don't know much about Egyptian mythology but this was full of it. The characters were enigmatic and I found myself tearing up toward the end hoping for things to be different. Merys is so innocent. I saw this as a Cinderella story in several ways. Merys family treated her like a servant, she had an evil step-mom, she was sweet to a fault.
I loved when she found her prince, Bek that is. This was an original story, in that it's the first Egyptian one I've read, and I found it very refreshing.

This product was provided to me free of charge in exchange for an unbiased review. This review is in compliance with the FTC guidelines.

Guest Post by Krista Holle

2012-02-06T02:12:00.001-05:00

Shapinsay—It’s on the Map

For me the topic of my next paranormal romance was obvious—selkies. Vampires and werewolves have been done to death, yet hardly anybody has heard of selkies. Just to clarify, selkies are the original shape shifters—beautiful men and women who live as seals in the sea, but shed their skins and walk on land when it suits them. The men are notorious for luring women to their deaths deep beneath the sea. Perfect. My two main characters are Kait and Eamon. Kait is all too familiar with the selkie legends, but this feisty blonde is far too stubborn to avoid swimming in their waters. Eamon is a selkie male with a penchant for killing. It’s a recipe for trouble.

The central location for my story was a no-brainer too because the legends originate from Ireland and Scotland. A quick atlas search located the Orkney Islands. They are dozens of tiny isles that spangle Scotland’s northern coats. Even today, some Orcaidians claim to be descendants of the selkies. The island of Shapinsay is a barren little place filled with rolling green moor, thatched roof houses, sheep, and ceaseless winds. Oh, and it has a convenient population of selkie.

The island of Shapinsay is as fascinating as the paranormal creatures that haunt its shoreline. In the early 1800’s, every man woman and child believed in fairies and witches. It’s not hard to figure out where I got the inspiration for the “witch” Tipper Gray. She’s a complex fossil of a woman and Kait’s next door neighbor. At one point in the story, she’s banished to Thieves’ Holm, a speck of an island just south of Shapinsay where thieves were once banished.

My grown up fairytale wouldn’t be complete without at least one castle. Shapinsay just happens to have one. It was constructed by the Balfours in 1848, the same year my story takes place. Kait would have paid rent to this prestigious family for use of her tiny croft (farm). You’ll see many other historical facts throughout the story to help bring this wonderful island to life. But like any fairytale, The Lure of Shapinsay is also filled with an improbable love story between sea and land. It’s Kait and Eamon’s story and I hope you enjoy it.

The Lure Of Shapinsay:
Ever since Kait Swanney could remember, the old crones of the village have been warning her to stay away from the selkies. They claim that like sirens of old, the seal men creep from the inky waters, shed their skins, and entice women to their deaths beneath the North Sea. But avoiding an encounter becomes impossible when Kait is spotted at the water’s edge, moments after the murder of a half-selkie infant.
Kait is woken unexpectedly by a beautiful, naked selkie man seeking revenge. After she declares her innocence, the intruder darts into the night, but not before inadvertently bewitching her with an overpowering lure. She obsesses over a reunion deep beneath the bay and risks her own life to be reunited with her selkie. But when she lands the dangerous lover, the chaos that follows leaves Kait little time to wonder—is it love setting her on fire or has she simply been lured?
Where you can purchase The Lure of Shapinsay:
Amazon
Barnes & Noble

Winner of Pain and Revenge

2012-02-05T06:42:00.000-05:00

Congrats to

Anita Yancey

I'll send your information to the author/ publisher and they'll get back to you soon.

Kiss of Death Blog Tour- Guest Post by W.Lynn Chantale

2012-02-04T06:14:00.003-05:00

Why Romantic Suspense Is the Best Genre Ever

By W. Lynn Chantale

I’m really not good at these themed posts. Why Romantic Suspense Is the Best Genre Ever, reminds me too much of those journal exercises in high school. *shudders* So here goes.

Romantic Suspense is the best genre ever because of three things. Oh there’s more, but I narrowed it to three. The puzzle, the romance, and the happy ending.

Who can resist a good puzzle? Okay some of you can, but for me reading or seeing a man run past the unsuspecting heroine, drops a rather innocent looking book into her lap and tells her to never let it out of her sight, much to her bewilderment. Then later the man ends up dead. Well I’m hooked.

Enter the brooding, overbearing hunky hero, who has been looking for said book to, destroy, conjure demons, bring back his dead brother, ensure the world isn’t reduced to mindless slaves. Pick a reason. So the book isn’t so innocent looking after all. And to make matters worse the hero is attracted to the heroine. Oh this can’t possibly happen, not when he’s so close to finishing his quest for making the world a safer place. Yet even more infuriating is the hero can’t complete succeed without her.

Then there’s the happy ending. I read to get that nice tidy fix. Life is unpredictable and knowing the bad guy is going to get his comeuppance, the hero gets the girl and the world is saved. Well I can’t ask for anything better than that.

W. Lynn is one of the many talented authors who belong to the Romance Writers of America’s Kiss of Death chapter. At Kiss of Death we believe that every great romance should include suspense. Whether a spy thriller in Regency times, a paranormal romance with a revenge-seeking zombie, or a traditional serial killer after the heroine, romance relies on suspense, leading the reader through the trials of the heroine and hero to see if they will get their happily ever after ending. If you can call your writing suspenseful, then the Kiss of Death has something for you! Find out more and join at http://www.rwamysterysuspense.org and follow us on Twitter at @RWAKissofDeath.

W. Lynn resides in southeastern Michigan. Married to her high school sweetheart, they’ve been together for the last twenty years. They have three children. She writes African-American and Interracial sensual erotic and erotic romance. She has a mad affinity for milk chocolate, preferably Dove chocolate truffles or the caramel-filled squares (Godiva and Ghiradelli are acceptable), and plays the bass guitar when the Muse begs for a bit of distraction. Find out more about her on her blog http://wlynnchantale-decadentdecisions.blogspot.com/, Twitter at @wlynnchantale, Facebook at http://www.facebook.com/W.LynnChantaleAuthor and on her website at http://www.wlynnchantale.com .

Seducing His Wife

By W. Lynn Chantale

Haunted by nightmares, Sheridan Sinclair just wants to get through one night without reliving the terrible accident that led to her miscarriage. And she longs for the arms of the man who betrayed her. Matthew Sinclair has always loved his wife, but when she refuses to speak to him after her accident, he's left to wonder what went wrong. When a stolen kiss ignites their forgotten passion, he'll use their love as a means to get her home and in his bed again. Will a husband’s plan of seduction be enough to heal a wife’s broken heart?

Giveaway is an ecopy of Seducing His Wife

to enter comment below with your

favorite thing about romantic suspense.

Please make sure to include your email if it's not on your profile.

Contest ends 2/11/12 I will pick the winners via Random.org. Once the winners are picked I'll email them and post here. The winners then have 48 hours to reply if they don't reply in that time frame I will pick new winners and the previous ones will have forfeited their winnings.

Change of Address by Natalie-Nicole Bates

2012-02-03T06:44:00.000-05:00

Change of Address

by Natalie-Nicole Bates

Blurb:

Saved from a traumatic past and successful in her present as a home care nurse, Josselyn Adler’s dream of home ownership in the idyllic town of Unity are dashed to pieces when Dr Ben Parnell, a cancer specialist, shows up on her doorstep claiming to be the rightful owner of the house—and Ben has a will to prove it! To Josselyn, the house represents a new start in her life. With a stable home, hopefully a much wanted family wouldn’t be far behind.

After a near career-ending allegation is made, Ben has returned home to lick his wounds. But now he must prove Josselyn’s claim to be a fake, that she used her position as a live-in nurse to his sick father to ingratiate herself into his good graces. But as he gets to know her, he can tell by her shy, often standoffish behavior, that Josselyn is a woman who has been deeply hurt in her past. Although he is attracted to the dark haired beauty that has invaded his life, he is still suspicious of her true motives and her past involvement with his father.

Buy links:

Amazon:

http://www.amazon.com/Change-Of-Address-ebook/dp/B006O03944/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1328219575&sr=1-1

Secret Cravings Publishing:

http://store.secretcravingspublishing.com/index.php?main_page=book_info&cPath=4&products_id=216

Blog: www.natalienicolebates.com

Twitter: BatesNatalie

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/natalienicole.bates

When she arrived at the foot of the stairs, the front door rattled. Fear, cold and stark, rose up in her throat and choked her as she heard the lock snap and watched, rooted to the floor, the creaky old door jiggle in its frame. The anticipation mingled with fright, produced a potent, sick feeling churning inside her like the bad horror movie she’d recently viewed on late-night cable television.
After what seemed an eternity, the door flung open. The first thought entering her brain was a ghost had entered her home. A younger, blonder visage of Morgan stood in the threshold. Before she could utter his name, a second, more coherent thought followed; a ghost wouldn’t use a key.
The man in the doorway took one step inside and stopped abruptly, clenched his jaw, and stared. The familiar stranger invading her new home could only be one person.
“My goodness, you’re Ben! You’re Morgan’s son!” she exclaimed.
“Well, we know who I am. Now who the hell are you, and why are you trespassing in my house?”
“Your house?” she asked with disbelief. “This is my home. Morgan gave it to me!”
“I don’t know who you are, lady, but I suggest you get a move on it. I’ll give you five minutes before I call the police.” He pointed to his platinum-cased wristwatch for emphasis.
“Don’t bother waiting.” She reached into her handbag and removed her cell phone. With shaking fingers, she punched in 911.
The line connected after the second ring. “911, what is your emergency?” asked the female dispatcher.
“My name is Josselyn Adler. I’m the new owner of 22 Little Pine Road. A man has let himself into my home and is now threatening me.” Although she was quaking on the inside, she strove to keep her voice and demeanor strong and confident.
“I have an officer on the way, Ms. Adler. Would you like to stay on the line with me until he arrives?” she offered.
“No, thank you. I’ll be fine,” she assured her.
As she disconnected her phone, Ben’s gaze burned into her. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of showing any fear. While growing up, she had dealt with her share of tormentors. One forty-year-old, blond-haired bully was not going to intimidate her or drive her from a home that was rightfully hers.
“Very nice performance,” he said snidely.
“Excuse me?” She furrowed her brow and made eye contact. Ben Parnell had his father’s glacial, blue eyes.
“Any moment one of Unity’s finest will be arriving to play knight in shining armor and save the poor maiden from the big, bad wolf.”
Before she could utter a word in reply, a black patrol car came to a screeching halt on the street. An officer threw open the car door and made long, quick strides to the house. His uniform and Unity Police Department baseball cap matched the color of his car.
A lump formed in her throat. As she was growing up, a police car in front of the house and an officer at the door meant her father was in some sort of trouble yet again.
“Good evening, Miss. I’m Officer Smith.” He looked to Ben. “It’s certainly been a long time since you’ve been around, Ben.” Not waiting for an answer from him, he turned his attention back to Josselyn. “What seems to be the problem tonight?”
He knew Ben by his first name. They looked to be about the same age, and in this small town, it was likely they knew each other growing up. Although Officer Smith seemed friendly enough, would he side with the hometown boy rather than with the stranger girl?
“This is my house. Morgan Parnell left it to me in his will. Now he...” She paused and pointed at Ben. “He thinks it’s his house.”
“I have a will, too,” Ben loudly interrupted. “And mine is legitimate!”
His deep voice vibrated through her, causing her head to ache. Flustered, she pulled an envelope from her handbag. Morgan’s attorney gave to her a copy of the will a few days earlier. She handed it to Officer Smith. To her dismay, Ben also produced a document from a briefcase.
This is very bad.
She hoped Ben had been bluffing.

Desperate Betrayal Book Tour

2012-02-02T14:51:00.000-05:00

Cyn’s Interview by Hildie McQueen

It’s late in the day and quite cool in Midtown, Atlanta as I huddle in the booth of a small café waiting for Cynden (Cyn) Fraser to show up so I can interview him. The over three hundred years old, Scottish warrior has been working as a demon slayer in Atlanta for almost five years.

I don’t have to look up to know he enters because the air seems to change and people stop mid-sentence to stare toward the doorway. I look up, see him and can understand why. At about six foot three, the wide shouldered muscled demon slayer strides with an easy gait to my booth. Probably used to people watching him, he doesn’t bother to look around, yet he is alert as ever because he suddenly turns and locks gazes with a guy whose eyes widen before the man looks away. “Demon,” Cyn mutters, “not a threat.”

He’s wearing dark jeans and I catch a glimpse of a light blue pullover under his worn black leather jacket. He doesn’t bother removing the outer garment. He slides into the booth across from me.

Cyn (C): Hello Hildie, long time.

Hildie (H): Hi Cyn, thank you for taking a few minutes to meet me.

C: Sure

H: How’s Blue doing? (His teenage son)

C: He’s doing really well, spending too much time on that computer game of his, but I can’t complain.

H: Are the street of Atlanta getting any safer?

C: (Looks out the window) I wish I could say yes, but that would be a lie. Its safe enough I suppose.

H: Doesn’t sound like you guys are winning the war. How many Protectors are in the city right now?

C: (Gazes past me in thought) Let’s see there’s Kieran (his brother), Roderick (A Spartan), Logan (1800s Cowboy), Fallon (17^th Century Lord) and me, so five. We’re keeping pretty busy kicking demon’s asses, we could probably use a couple more. We do what we can, but you’re correct we are a long way from winning this war.

H: What can you tell me about Emma?

C: (Lifts an eyebrow) Without ruining the story for your readers?

H: Yes don’t give too much away. (I laugh)

C: She’s amazing.

H: That’s it?

Cyn: (He seems to be pondering his answer) She’s the first thing I think about when I wake and the last person I want to see before falling asleep. I guess you can say I’ve got it bad.

H: Wow. Let’s change the subject. Okay what is it like being immortal?

C: (shrugs) I suppose it’s like anything else. I know that I will be around for a long time so I don’t get close to humans because they will age and die and it hurts to lose friends. But like anyone else, I can be killed so I enjoy the simple things in life.

H: How did you feel about becoming a Protector in the beginning?

C: I was young, early twenties when I went through the changes. That couple of years were tough as hell. I grew taller and filled in, my senses became keener and I hurt all the time. I was relieved to finally find out what happened to me, that I was predestined to be a demon slayer.

H: After your Laird (Older brother Malcolm) found out from your leader Julian about your destiny to become a slayer, what happened next?

C: I went to Rome to train with immortal gladiators for about six months. The length of our training depends on our abilities. Since I was already a warrior, I got it pretty quick. The hard part was leaving Scotland.

H: Do you ever feel guilty at killing demons?

C: Not really (he frowns) I kill only those are a direct threat to humans, most are about to kill a victim when I arrive. (He looks at his watch) I better go its getting dark.

H: Thanks again for stopping by.

Cyn leans forward and gives me a peck on the cheek. He smells great and I beam at him. After a quick flash of his dimples, he gets up and leaves.

Deep Sigh.

Learn more about Cyn and his love interest Emma, get your copy of Desperate Betrayal today.

Desperate Betrayal

By Hildie McQueen

Cynden Frasier (Cyn) is a member of a group of immortal warriors, the Protectors, assigned to protect humans in Atlanta, Georgia, the epicenter of a major uprising in demon activity. When Cyn is approached by a beautiful woman in a dirty alley, he is intrigued by the fact that she can see him for what he is, a terrifying demon slayer, and still dares to approach him.

Emma Blake, a half-demon, has to convince Cyn to help rescue her sister from powerful demons. Terrified that the Protector will kill her if he realizes what she is, she still goes against every instinct and approaches Cyn for help. Despite knowing that she is leading them both into territory so wrought with treachery, neither of them may survive.

Can Cyn and Emma overcome betrayal, the ancient rules that prevent Protectors from taking a wife, unless she is his one true mate? And if they do, will it even matter?

Available now at Amazon and Barnes & Noble

Excerpt from Desperate Betrayal

“Turn around.” His smooth voice flowed over her like velvet.

Emma tried to swallow but her mouth went dry. She turned to find he stood very close.

God help her, she’d never seen a more handsome man than the one who stood before her now. Her body screamed for his touch. She wanted to be with him, her skin against his. But she wouldn’t sleep with him as a form of payment.

What if during sex he sensed that she was part demon and killed her on the spot? But, then again, maybe he would kill her just for saying no.

She forced herself to remain calm, and placed her hand on his chest only to draw it back when the urge to caress him became too strong.

“Listen Cyn. I know most women throw themselves at you. I mean you’re extremely good-lo… but, I, – I am not going to have sex with you, right now. What happened before between us, out there in the alley was because of the rush from the adrenaline after your encounter with the demon…,”She stopped babbling, at a loss for words.

Cyn stood back with his arms crossed while he stared down at her, one eyebrow cocked. His lips curved into a crooked smile.

“I was going move the chair for you and ask you to come sit by the desk, so I could get some more information from you. But I see your mind is on other things.” He leaned in closer to her and his smile widened. “You said ‘not right now’, does that mean we’ll have sex later?”

About the Author:

Hildie McQueen is a whirlwind who refuses to wear anything but jeans and heels.

She grew up on the San Diego/Mexico border, joined the military at seventeen and never returned. After living in Germany, Texas and Hawaii, she finally settled in the beautiful southern town of Augusta, Georgia.

Biracial, half Mexican and half African-American, Hildie’s native language is Spanish, but English is her favorite way of communicating now.

Her mission in life is to make as many people as possible to feel normal. It’s an easy thing to do, for others to feel normal around her, because she’s anything but.

www.hildiemcqueen.com

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/HildieMcQueen

Twitter: https://twitter.com/#!/HildieMcQueen

Blog: http://www.hildiemcqueen.com/

Guest Post by Simon Jacobs

2012-02-01T05:27:00.000-05:00

“Interview with Christopher Pham”

We are proud to present correspondent Simon Jacobs’ interview with Christopher Pham, a janitor at Chesterton High School and an eyewitness to the scene of feverish sexual activity that occurred in the art room on Saturday, September 4, 2010, and was later depicted in the e-book Five Days, recently published by OC Press.

Mr. Pham, explain to our readers exactly what you experienced on that day.

It was a typical Saturday’s work. You know, buff the floors, vacuum. I was about halfway through buffing the cafeteria floor when I heard a scream.

Of terror?

No, no. No pain. More like a scream of… pleasure. Mixed with surprise. So I went down the hall and peeked into the art room, and, well.

[Here, Mr. Pham lapses into a fit of throat-clearing.]

Well, what?

…And they were there, the two of them. On the art room table. [Clears his throat again.] Um, fucking. He was painting her as he did it, with a brush, with his hands, just smearing it all over her body.

Did you recognize either of them?

I recognized the woman. Alicia Paterson. She graduated eight or so years ago. I remember her… very clearly.

[The reader should note that at this point during our interview, Mr. Pham grips the handle of his mop tightly in both hands and begins to rub it up and down as he speaks.]

Alicia was always artistic. She was one of those reckless painters who always left a mess in the art room that I would have to clean up at the end of the day. Paint splattered on the wall, muddy water on the floor. I’d get mad at her, but then she’d just flash this grin at me—this mischievous, guilty grin—and how could I not forgive her?

But you couldn’t identify the male partner?

NO. [Simultaneous to his answer, Mr. Pham snaps the handle of his mop at the center. Flustered, he hastens to hide the pieces behind his back.] No. No, I didn’t recognize him at all.

I see. And how long did you watch them for?

Well, until I—until they were done. It seemed only natural. They didn’t clean up, either. Left a mess of tempera paint, some acrylic, even some kinda glaze, everywhere, all over the table. I scrubbed at it as best I could, used some remover, but honestly, some of that stuff I couldn’t even scratch off. Probably ruined that table.

*****

Sam runs into his long-time crush, Alicia, whom he hasn’t seen for years. Sam reveals that he only has five days left to live and the pair embarks on a blazingly erotic, cross-country journey through their collective past, trying to make up for all the time they have missed. Heart-wrenching, sexy, and romantic, Five Days will capture your soul.

Simon Jacobs’ and Amanda Woods’ erotic novella Five Days was released as an e-book on December 1^st by OC Press. It is also available from Amazon UK, Amazon US and Smashwords.

*****

Simon Jacobs is a young writer who currently attends an aggravatingly small college in the Midwest. In the time he doesn’t spend rambling about angst past and present, he edits the Safety Pin Review, a new medium for fiction under 30 words. His writing has appeared in places like Thought Catalog and Clean Sheets. Follow him on Twitter @mohawko, or read more protracted musings at simonajacobs.blogspot.com.

Guest Post by Jerri Drennen

2012-01-31T14:15:00.000-05:00

Hello, all! I'm Jerri Drennen and I'm been working at this writing gig for over eleven years. One of the first rules I was told, write what you know. Really? I'm not gung-ho on that idea. I know kids, and being raised on a farm, I guess I know a little bit about farming. I can drive a tractor. I can clean a house pretty well. All Boring stuff. Who'd want to read about that?
I've learned over the years that you should write what you want to read. I just happen to write about men packing more than just handguns and the kick ass women who love them. I have secret agents, men and women who can handle just about anything that comes their way. I love run-for-your-life storylines that have strong male and female characters who aren't afraid to say what needs to be said, so far from my snore-worthy life it's laughable.
In Her Man Flint I pushed a lot of boundaries. My characters Flint and Adriana both love each other, but are afraid to commit. They're worried that somehow they'll lose something of themselves by admitting they need the other. The story has silly elements since that's what I like. Look at the TV show, Castle. They aren't afraid to get a little goofy for entertainment value and that's what I wanted to do with Her Man Flint. So, it's not your typical romantic suspense, though there are some serious aspects to the book.
Here's the blurb for the book.
If James Bond and Cleopatra Jones had a daughter, Adriana Kent would kick her ass.
Everything Adriana knows about being a top-notch, undercover agent she's learned from her partner, Flint Morgan, in and out of the sheets. That is, until he's caught between those same bed linens with another woman. Heartbroken, Adriana refuses to forgive him. But when 'the other woman' is found dead in Flint's apartment, she steps up to prove his innocence--he might be a womanizer, but he's no killer.
As Adriana closes in on a suspect, she's kidnapped and sent overseas to a sadistic prince who collects women like priceless pieces of art. Now this tough as nails agent finds herself playing the helpless courtesan to a man hell-bent on breaking her spirit. Flint arrives in the nick of time, dressed as a harem girl, fighting off randy guards and surly camels to rescue Adriana so they can fly back to the states to find a way to exonerate him for murder.

Her Man Flint

By Jerri Drennen

Blurb

If James Bond and Cleopatra Jones had a daughter, Adriana Kent would kick her ass.

Everything Adriana knows about being a top-notch, undercover agent she's learned from her partner, Flint Morgan, in and out of the sheets. That is, until he's caught between those same bed linens with another woman. Heartbroken, Adriana refuses to forgive him. But when 'the other woman' is found dead in Flint's apartment, she steps up to prove his innocence--he might be a womanizer, but he's no killer.

As Adriana closes in on a suspect, she's kidnapped and sent overseas to a sadistic prince who collects women like priceless pieces of art. Now this tough as nails agent finds herself playing the helpless courtesan to a man hell-bent on breaking her spirit. Flint arrives in the nick of time, dressed as a harem girl, fighting off randy guards and surly camels to rescue Adriana so they can fly back to the states to find a way to exonerate him for murder.

Amazon Barnes & Noble

Excerpt

“Are you going to lie there all day, or are we going to get the hell out of Dodge?”

The voice was unmistakable. “Adriana,” he growled.

“What? Were you expecting Lindsey ‘Silicone’ Warren, perhaps?” Adriana popped her head out from behind the huge rock in front of him for a brief second, glared, then ducked behind the boulder again. “Sorry to disappoint you, but that woman wouldn’t break a fake nail to save your arrogant ass.”

“Cute.” Flint eased up and clutched his side, putting pressure on the wound in hopes of easing the flow of blood between his fingers.

“You think she’d care one way or the other if you made it out of here alive?” Adriana continued. “Who do you think set you up anyway?”

“You did,” Flint tossed her way.

She jumped up again, her eyes spitting fire. “The hell I did. I stopped by Billy’s this morning. He asked me what I wanted when I called you yesterday.” With a seriousness Flint had never seen before, she shook her blonde head, her glare boring into him. “I never called you. He told me you were headed out here, and I knew you were in big trouble. Did you know your precious Lindsey dated Hartford?”

“What?” Flint’s mouth slacked in astonishment.

“Yeah, they were a hot item last summer.” Her gaze turned ice cold. “Apparently the relationship never ended. Why would you think I’d set you up anyway? Believe it or not, I did care for you at one time.”

Adriana abruptly looked up and aimed her rifle, firing at a man who’d popped his head over the ledge, then cursed like a sailor when she missed the mark. “Move your ass. I’m not going to be your back forever.”

She fired again, this time smiling with satisfaction when the man clutched at his shoulder.

“One down.”

Flint scrambled over to the boulder she used as a shield and pulled himself behind it, moving in close to her. Instantly, her womanly scent filled the air around him, a perfume he remembered all too well—a sweet, flowery fragrance with just a hint of musk. The stuff had always done strange things to his libido. Today was no exception. Even in danger and wounded, he found it difficult to ignore her wonderful essence. Hell, her in general.

“Why’d you come, Dray?” He slid to the ground, his back against the rock while he wiped sweat from his brow onto his shirtsleeve.

He glanced back at her with curiosity. Today, her long, ash-blonde hair was pulled away from her face, her perfect ivory complexion smudged with dirt that no way detracted from her beauty. Her attention was on their surroundings—no doubt trying to figure the best way to get them out of the mess he’d gotten them into.

He watched her intently, shocked to realize he’d missed her. “Why’d you save me?”

She turned to face him. “We’re partners. Isn’t that what partners do?”

“But what about—”

“Forget it. So our personal relationship didn’t work out—that doesn’t mean our professional association at the department can’t continue.”

Adriana turned away and fired again, this time at a man who’d started down the ravine after them. Her shot was off again.

Intense pain cut through Flint’s side as he shifted his body. “I owe you one.”

She returned her attention to him and grinned. “Do I get to choose payment?”

Before he could answer, she turned to the leather-clad man who was moving again. Taking aim, she fired, hitting the goon in the leg. The blast sent the assailant firing wildly in the air before tumbling down into the gorge.

“That’s two.” Her triumphant smile said she was pleased with herself.

“We were discussing payment. What’d you have in mind?” Flint’s grin turned to a grimace when another wave of pain sliced through him.

Adriana’s frown deepened as she studied the area. “Let’s get out of this alive, and then we’ll talk.” She pointed to his side. “How bad is it? You think you can run?”

Despite the blood soaking his shirt, he knew he could scramble if need be. “It’s nothing. I’ll be right behind you.”

“Let’s go.” Adriana raced for the next boulder about twenty feet away, Flint hot on her heels. On the way, she tried to sidestep sagebrush in her path, but instead hit it head-on and stumbled, rolling to the rocky ground and landed hard on her back.

Flint dove on top her as a barrage of bullets flew over them.

“Man, they really want you dead. Could you get off me?” She scowled and tried to push him away, her breath coming in quick, uneven gasps.

Flint stared at her flushed face, painfully aware of the soft yet firm breasts beneath him. Emotions he’d thought long dead stirred him to distraction.

“I’m sure the same thought crossed your mind a time or two.” He studied her face for a reaction, then lifted himself from her.

A hint of amusement danced in her eyes. “No, not dead. Castrated maybe.”

As she rose in preparation to run again, her meaning sunk in and caused Flint’s groin to twitch. “Oh, that hurt.”

He grabbed her arm and pulled her back to the ground as another bullet buzzed past them.

“Yes, I imagine it would for someone who thought with his dick instead of his brain.”

Flint couldn’t help but smile. She had such a foul, sexy mouth. He reached over and laced his fingers through a loose strand of hair, caressing its soft, silky texture. “Have I ever told you, Dray, that you have the prettiest blonde hair?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact you have. It was right around the time you were trying to get in my pants.” She glanced around. “We don’t have time for reminiscing, Flint. If you hadn’t noticed, people are trying to kill us.”

“Right. Well, it is nice,” he mumbled under his breath.

Adriana wiggled away and sat up. “Flatter me later.”

He chuckled, then grimaced when his amusement garnered him a kick in the shin.

Another round flew by and ricocheted off a nearby rock, sending them scurrying further behind the boulder protecting them, and reminded Flint that they weren’t forgotten by their attackers.

Hunching over her, he asked, “Where’s your car?”

“Over there.” Adriana pointed to a large formation and almost lost a finger when another slug zipped past.

She gasped and clutched at her hand, her eyes narrowing on him.

“Are you hurt?” Flint reached for her fingers, but she pulled away.

“If I lose even a hair on my head, Flint Morgan, you’ll pay.”

Like a snake, she slithered toward the large rock where her car was hidden. A well-timed storm cloud crossed over the sun and cast a shadow over the ravine, giving them the opportunity to make their move to the larger formation.

Flint crawled behind Adriana. He couldn’t help but admire her perfectly rounded bottom, clad in a pair of tan khakis. She really did have the best looking rear-end he’d ever seen in his life.

“Did I ask you to save my ass?” he asked, his mind now consumed by hers, rather than what he should be worried about—getting them out of this mess alive.

“No, but I couldn’t help but recall yours, and I didn’t want to see it get shot off. Now crawl faster before my ass is the one that ends up with lead in it.”

He smiled again. The women definitely had wit.

They made their way to a pile of enormous boulders, just a few feet from Adriana’s red Porsche when Flint heard the faint thrum of a helicopter in the distance.

Adriana cursed. “Who the hell’s coming now—guerilla fighters? What if they’re not the good guys, Flint? What are we going to do?”

“Just keep moving. We’ll do whatever we have to. You got any guns in your car?”

“Yeah, two. No extra ammo, though. Only what’s loaded in my Glock and .45.”

The chopper flew overhead and circled the compound before fanning out into what was clearly a search maneuver.

“Can you see any markings on the craft?” Flint squinted, trying to make out anything that would give him some idea whether it was friend or foe.

Her green eyes widened and in a soft voice she said, “I don’t think we’re going to make it out of here alive, Flint. I need to tell you something.”

“Oh? What’s that?” he asked, his attention still on the helicopter above them.

“I wanted you to know—”

“I think it’s Billy,” he interrupted, waving his hands to draw the pilot’s attention.

The craft flew over them once, then landed in an open field a short distance away.

“Run.” Flint grasped her arm and pulled her toward the aircraft, using a zigzag pattern to dodge stray bullets, while fighting the rush of intense whirlwind caused by the propeller blades.

When they reached the chopper, he shoved Adriana inside and jumped in behind her.

Instantly, they took off, hovering just long enough for them to see three men aiming their weapons up in the air.

“Get us the hell out of here, Billy. Before they shoot us down.” The ping of a bullet hit the side of the chopper and pounded home the importance of Flint’s words.

“Right away, boss. Glad to see you’re alive. I thought I was going to have to take you out in a body bag.”

The chopper pivoted forward and left the compound.

“You might have had to if Adriana hadn’t come along. Say Dray”…Flint glanced at the blood clotting on his shirt, then looked up to meet her gaze. “What were you trying to tell me back there?”

Adriana shook her head. “Nothing. It wasn’t important.”

She turned to stare out the window, leaving Flint to wonder what seemed so dire just seconds ago, yet now that they were safely on their way home, turned into nothing?

Author Bio:

Jerri Drennen was raised on a farm in a tiny town in Minnesota where the winters were long and being stuck inside awarded her the opportunity to read and tell stories. Years later, after moving away from family, marrying her husband of twenty-five years and having their four children, she started writing when her youngest was three. Eleven years and many manuscripts later, she has one contemporary romance and three romantic suspense novellas with Samhain Publishing, a category romantic suspense at The Wild Rose Press and two action-adventure romances at Liquid Silver Books. Now, she's trying her hand at self-publishing.

http://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=699298823&ref=tn_tnmn

Twitter @jerri47

The end of What's Beside Your Bed?

2012-01-30T06:21:00.000-05:00

I need to pull back on somethings and blogging is one of them. What's Beside Your Bed? Doesn't get hardly any people linking up, so I'll be ending it today. To those of you who've linked up in the past thank you.

Knights in a Shining Semi

2012-01-29T05:04:00.000-05:00

Left on the side of the road by her boyfriend, now ex, she’s left with no choice but to hitch hike. She’s picked up by a couple of truck drivers, who are more than they appear to be. A surprise turn of events brings Morgan into the arms of the two men… her knights in a shining semi.
Warning- This book contains a jerky ex-boyfriend, two hunky truck drivers, a Menage, and sex in a truck-stop shower.

Free on Smashwords

Iron Dominance by Cari Silverwood

2012-01-28T01:59:00.000-05:00

Iron Dominance
by Cari Silverwood
ISBN: 978-1-61118-514-0
Genre: BDSM Steampunk
Length: Novel Plus

Raised from childhood as an assassin, Claire finds her world knocked off kilter when Theo Kevonis, a rich, ex-Air Corp nobleman, rescues her from an airship crash. Being a soldier of a hostile nation she cannot reveal her identity, but Theo sinks his steely Dom fingers into her heart and soul, showing her the pleasures to be found in surrendering to his touch. Captivated, Claire cannot help but bind herself in lie after lie rather than risk losing the one man who’s ever loved her.

When her loathsome commander returns from the dead, her deceit is uncovered. Somehow, Claire must find a way to win back Theo's trust and destroy the man who threatens them both.
Publisher's Note: This book contains explicit sexual content, graphic language, and situations that some readers may find objectionable: anal play/intercourse, BDSM theme and elements, violence.

Review: I absolutely love this cover! Ok now that I got that out of the way, this is a great story.
Claire is a great character, you can feel for her. She utterly confused logically and emotionally. She was built, literally, to be an assassin every thing seems to be going against her training and education. I felt bad for her as the book progressed and she has to deal with what's going on and her training. Theo was kinda a conundrum to me at first. I felt like I was trying to figure him out just like Claire.
The story itself was interesting, and hot. The world building was creative and wonderful. I loved all the steampunk gadgets (grin). Although every time I heard the term "Frankenstruct" all I could think was Frankenstein monster, which left me envisioning Claire green and with zipper stitches. Even though I got that she looked totally human.

This product was provided to me free of charge in exchange for an unbiased review. This review is in compliance with the FTC guidelines.

Interview with Cari Silverwood

2012-01-28T01:44:00.001-05:00

Hi Cari Thanks for joining me here at Between the Stacks. Ready to get Naughty? Great lets hop right to the Q&A.

Okay now for the good stuff, Why write erotic stories?

Oh my, straight to the heart of the matter. Because they can potentially sell well, because I can do them, and because I have enormous fun writing them. I have written in the fantasy genre without the erotic content and they just don’t have the same zing for me.

When did you start writing erotic stories?

About August 2010. I hadn’t read any pure erotic novels until I chose to write them. My first foray into reading them wowed me. I have never been a romance reader but erotic romance…let’s say it pushes the right buttons.

Why the steampunk genre? What about it draws you?

First of all let me make it clear that steampunk isn’t the only genre in erotic romance that I write in. But what do I love about steampunk? The broad canvas it gives me. Though a smattering of airships, clockwork, steam contraptions and semi-Victorian clothes is necessary, I can throw in almost anything I wish on top of that. Futuristic or alternate earth? Check. Fetish clothes? Check. Gorgeous Doms and women with a flair for kicking butt, shooting straight and succumbing to my heroes’ advances? Absolutely.

What is the strangest reaction you've gotten when you tell people what you write or that you're a writer?

Hmm. My blossoming career writing erotic romance is fairly secret in my real life world. However my husband did manage to deliberately embarrass me at a wedding. He told someone that I have several e-books published and the man promptly got ready to write down my pen name. I had to confess I write erotic stories. His face…ummm, transformed, let’s say, and the iphone was promptly tucked away again. Lol

What was your inspiration for Iron Dominance?

I seem to recall just wanting to write a great BDSM based steampunk story. I knew it had been done before with erotic overtones but not really, as far as I knew, with BDSM. I especially was dying to create some wonderful sex toys with that sexy brass, clockwork and electric steampunk look. I also saw a lot of potential for putting steampunk fetish clothes into the story. If you google sexy steampunk clothes you’ll find so many fantastic costumes on the net.

The buckles and leather, satin and corsetry, along with goggles, boots and gloves – all that just makes me want to swoon.

What sort of research did you do for Iron Dominance

I did vaguely glance at some mainstream steampunk. I have read it in the past but wanted to see if ideas would pop up. I found images of airships and fanciful clockwork devices, as well as the above-mentioned costumes, gave me the most ideas.

I also looked at future predictions for how the continents on earth will eventually smoosh together and form a massive continent called Pangaea Ultima to give me some idea as to how to get the world’s nations nice and close and cosy to each other.

Much of the way I dreamed up the clothes and gadgetry just surfaced from the soup of ideas swimming about in my head though.

Have you ever done “research” with you hubby? Wink wink, nudge nudge.

Quick answer? Yes. J

But then again, no, we do not have any of the devices invented by Henry in Iron Dominance. Not even the reciprocating sexual probe. For some reason readers were relieved that I re-invented the vibrator for the story. lol Not sure why.

Finally can you tell us what you have coming up?

31 Flavors is a contemporary BDSM romance which is heavily based on a true story. It will surprise readers, I think. I wrote it with a great PNR author, Leia Shaw, and when I reread it I’m still stunned with how funny, sad and sexy it is. I have both cried and laughed out loud. There are a lot of women out there who crave getting their partners to try out spanking and or bondage and this story addresses that so well. This one is self-published. To be released on Valentine’s Day.

Link to a funny sexy excerpt. http://www.carisilverwood.net/31-flavors.html

Lust Plague is another BDSM steampunk story published through Loose Id. Same world but with that nasty lust plague and zombies as well just to spice things up. There’s a very sexy excerpt of this one here.

http://www.carisilverwood.net/lust-plague.html

Release date is March 27th.

Rough Surrender is a historical BDSM set in Cairo 1910. My Dom, Leonhardt Meisner, in that one is enough to bring any woman susceptible to an alpha male to her knees. He makes me quiver when I encounter him still. Not sure where he came from but I want another, please. Release date from Lyrical Press is June 4th

Can we put a snippet here?

Of course.

Snippet: “If it weren’t for that adorable tongue of yours, I’d have let you go. Now, I’m going to see what you taste like.” He lowered his head.

Faith strained away, the back of her skull smacking lightly into the timber.

“Don’t move.” Those two words were like nails driving her into place. He covered her lips with his and she gave a muffled groan as his tongue slid into her mouth alongside hers.

All resistance vaporized. She fought to stay aware and upright though her legs threatened to collapse and her logical brain had disintegrated into a swirl of lustful thoughts. Nothing mattered except the feel of him inside her. His lips pressed and slid, his teeth caught her flesh here, there...his breath merged with hers. This was a man who knew how to take.

His body moved in, squeezing her between timber and man. If she needed to breathe, she must accept what he gave her. If he didn’t hold her there, she’d fall. The world shifted on its axis.

Sweet Jesus, she loved it.

Thank you for talking with us Cari.

Cari Silverwood's Iron Dominance
ISBN: 978-1-61118-514-0
Genre: BDSM Steampunk
Length: Novel Plus

Raised from childhood as an assassin, Claire finds her world knocked off kilter when Theo Kevonis, a rich, ex-Air Corp nobleman, rescues her from an airship crash. Being a soldier of a hostile nation she cannot reveal her identity, but Theo sinks his steely Dom fingers into her heart and soul, showing her the pleasures to be found in surrendering to his touch. Captivated, Claire cannot help but bind herself in lie after lie rather than risk losing the one man who’s ever loved her.

When her loathsome commander returns from the dead, her deceit is uncovered. Somehow, Claire must find a way to win back Theo's trust and destroy the man who threatens them both.
Publisher's Note: This book contains explicit sexual content, graphic language, and situations that some readers may find objectionable: anal play/intercourse, BDSM theme and elements, violence.

Excerpt:
“Stay there,” he said.

She could smell him.

She almost opened her eyes to say something, but instead balanced there. Why she obeyed him, she wasn’t sure but it satisfied something primal, something deeply sexual. And letting go like this, made her feel safe.

Anticipation strung her insides tight. She yearned for further caresses. Her cleft swelled.

“Here. Raise your feet.” An article of clothing, both silken cloth and something harder, slid with muffled clicks up each leg. Theo arranged it about her torso, cool beads shifting across her breasts until the garment fitted snugly on her body. Something narrow settled between her legs. She gasped at a throb of pleasure as his fingers played in her moisture. A few more adjustments and he led her off to one side. A light flared on. “There. Open your eyes.”

In a tall mirror, she saw herself, dressed in a black corset paneled with satin. Coming down from a halter, pearl ropes fanned out over each breast with her nipples peeking out between. A tiny skirt of chiffon, divided at the crotch, barely made it as far as her upper thighs. Lines of seed pearls undulated down the satin and a string of larger pearls dove deeply between her legs, emphasizing the split lips of her sex. She could feel it run up between the cheeks of her bottom at the back. Even as she looked, she felt a renewed throb, for every movement she made, from breath to heartbeat to shift of feet, moved the line of pearls and rubbed against her clit.

In the reflection, she saw Theo beyond her shoulder, bare-chested, the ringlets of his black hair stark against his forehead. He raised a satin and pearl choker and positioned it about her neck, clicking it into place. “And these,” he said, holding first one wrist and then the other to snick matching black satin bracelets on her wrists. “They suit you.” From the hardness, metal lurked beneath the black cloth.

Where the choker and bracelets rested on skin, her pulse rose, thumping, to the surface and reminded her of where she was, who she was with, and especially, how dangerous this could be. But…she trusted him.

To her surprise, her throat still worked, though the words seemed to stick to her tongue. “How did you know my size? Where did this come from?”

“Bought while I was away. I have a good memory, especially for someone as striking as you.”

Which meant, he’d planned her…seduction, while she’d been planning escape. She leaned back against him, fascinated by the allure of the woman in the mirror. The heat from his body soaked into her like a glass of wine. She lifted each wrist and examined the bracelets -- identical, and each with tiny loops of steel projecting from them.

“That’s for a chain to pass through,” he whispered, mouthing the nape of her neck. “Does it bother you? Think, before you answer.”

“Yes…” she said slowly, fearful of being again restrained in cuffs.

“And yet?” He pressed a hand against her stomach, holding her against him, making her feel the rigid line of his cock. The pearls slid in her juices, pressing, rolling over her clit and anus. She let out a whimper. “Ahh. You feel them working on you.” He chuckled. “And yet?”

And yet the idea of it, of being restrained by Theo, held a strange and deadly fascination. She shied away from that thought, and shook her head. “And nothing.”

“Ah-h. I can see my first project will be to get you talking more.”

She stood there in silence. The fear she felt came intertwined with lust in almost everything that Theo did to her. Taking her by the shoulders, he moved her to face him, gray eyes inches away, then his mouth descended, covering hers, devouring her. She breathed in his breath, letting him do as he willed. One broad hand held the base of her neck, the other splayed over the curve of her buttocks. His fingers wrapped around the pearl rope running between her legs, tightening it. Desire ran rampant through her, surging higher with every tiny movement of his lips on hers, and the rub of the pearls on her pussy and nipples.

When she put her hands to the belt of his pants, he reached between their bodies, snared both her wrists and pulled them round to the small of her back where he held them with one hand. Again, the pearls shifted. She bit her lip, a moan escaping her as she arched.

Eyes shut, she heard a soft animal-like growl.

“Claire, if you’re not damn careful, I’ll eat you up.”

What? She opened her eyes a slit, still panting, to see that he’d stepped away a little, angling his stance so as to observe her.

His gaze brushed her, lingering on her breasts before he locked on her eyes. “Last chance. Do you want to stop? Are you too sore? It might cause me irreparable harm, but I can stop.” Then he eyed her darkly, as if he’d liked to do exactly what he’d threatened to -- eat her up.

The pain of the bruise at her neck had faded to nothing in spite of the choker. With her whole being, she yearned for more of him. He inflamed her past bearing and knowing that he watched her, swept her excitement to another level.

She licked her lips, aware of her wrists still caught behind her and the display of her body. God, if he didn’t do more than this, she’d surely burst.

“No,” she said huskily. “Don’t stop.”

“Please?”

Ah, how he tormented her. “Please.”

“Over here then.” Still gripping her wrists he urged her toward the bed, to kneel by the side of it, and lie face down across the quilt with her bottom up. He spread her hands, palm down over each cheek of her buttocks.

“Don’t move,” he whispered in her ear. “And I won’t have to tie you.”

Tie me? She almost let go at that. Was this what she wanted? But he held his hands over hers a moment. She stayed there.

“Good.”

His fingers trailed over the backs of her hands, over the ends of her fingernails, and down her thighs. She quivered, sucking in air through the quilt bunched beneath her mouth.

“Spread your legs, Claire.”

She shifted them, feeling even more exposed, a breeze caressing her engorged labia. He traced down the line of pearls, reached her wet cleft and followed deeper where the pearls seemed to have sunk into her flesh. Slick and wet. The scent of her lust reached her. Slowly he went farther until he reached her clit. He circled it, teasing, making her shift her bottom to place the finger just right.

Buylinks:
http://www.loose-id.com/Iron-Dominance.aspx
http://www.amazon.com/Iron-Dominance-ebook/dp/B005S5O7PG/ref=ntt_at_ep_dpi_2

Blog Tour Maya DeLeina

2012-01-27T01:56:00.002-05:00

If you love paranormal romance, here is a new series that packs a sexy bite…and some naughty apparatuses!

The Ambrose Heights Vampires
This Erotic Vampire Romance series follows the Matthew’s Lair as they intermingle with society, develop human-like serums, craft doctrines, connect with other vampire families and paranormal beings and search for their fated mates. They reside in the ultra-exclusive neighborhood of Ambrose Heights. Ambrose Heights sits high up on the mountain, overlooking the town of Manitou Springs, Colorado. And while the town is known for its healing spring waters, fabled underground passages and rumored lore of wizardry and witchcraft, the town’s residents find Ambrose Heights mysterious and inexplicable- they don’t quite know what to make of the gated community that seems to have appeared overnight. If only someone had done their homework. After all, the name Ambrose says it all- Immortal.
Catch the Series Book Trailer here: http://youtu.be/Ek5bvb1_-CA

Book1- Flesh Fantasy
Now available in Paperback and eBook
http://www.bookstrand.com/flesh-fantasy
Flesh Fantasy is the diary of Ambrose Height’s protector, Rhys Matthews and his human love interest, Rain. This is the installment with the Human Spider web that readers can’t stop talking about!
Tonight, Rain Calisto searches for her man, and Rhys Matthews comes into focus. He is well-built and sinisterly sexy. In the same Denver nightclub, Armand Anastasio searches for his woman—Rain.
But the men are more than gorgeous. They are vampires, and they are unmated.
A chance encounter lands Rhys and Rain together. Their attraction remains undeniably powerful and they fall prey to lust. With each passionate tryst, Rhys senses a connection that goes beyond the flesh. Unbeknownst to Rhys, Rain is a diabetic. Her insulin alters her biological makeup, disguising a revelation he isn’t quite prepared for.
Rain is Rhys's fated mate.
As they struggle with this knowledge, another bombshell is dropped. Rain’s insulin-laced tissue creates a rare vampiric blood that can fetch a hefty profit, and Armand has always known this.
Is his attraction to Rain genuine, or is he just out for her blood?
This is the diary of Rain and Rhys. Recorded here is their transformation from a flesh fantasy to eternal love.

Want more? Click here for a FREE READ of Chapter 1& 2
http://mayadeleina.com/books-3/free-read-flesh-fantasy/
See the sexy vampires come to life in the Flesh Fantasy Mini Movie Trailer:
http://youtu.be/h81rt5OarS4

Book2- Veil of Seduction
Coming January 31, 2012- Order your copy today!
http://www.bookstrand.com/veil-of-seduction
This is the torrid love triangle of Ambrose Height’s leader, Steffan Matthews, his human love interest and his newborn vampire. No spider web in this installment, but readers are sure to love the sexually mesmerizing aerial silk scene.
A newborn vampire. A powerful leader. An inconsolable woman. The shaping of their eternity all lies within the eyes.
Steffan Matthews is the devastatingly handsome vampire leader of Ambrose Heights. He cultivates social order and invents concoctions that allow vampires to feel human once again.
But Steffan also has a devouring obsession that brings him to his knees. Her name is Anya. Steffan sets out to claim Anya, a mortal ripe for the taking, as his mate. But the blackness in the eyes of his newborn should’ve served as a warning. Anya is off-limits according to the vampire creed.
It will take the strength of the kinship, the purity of love, a hint of magic, and a subterranean guardian to shield Steffan against the wrath of Ryan Evans, protect him from the fate of the Nemesis, and bridge a passage to his rightful destiny.

Want more?
Stay tuned for the trailer to see the vampires of Veil of Seduction come to life!
www.mayadeleina.com
But in the meantime, meet Steffan Matthew’s in the flesh

Veil of Seduction Excerpt

“Anya, I’m Steffan, Steffan Matthews.”
There is no room for games here, he thought to himself.
For almost a century, he had searched for her. He was not going to waste any more time by skirting around the issue.
He needed her. She needed him. They needed each other.
He wanted to tell her everything in this moment, claim her now, and abandon all the words of advice from Rhys.
“Anya, I live in Ambrose Heights. I made the arrangement for lessons…so I could meet you. Truth is, ever since you moved in, I felt a connection to you that I can’t quite explain.”
Steffan inserted that little white lie at the end. Of course, it could be explained, but he couldn’t bring himself to reveal any of that.
Not now at least.
“You mean you paid for me to spend time with you? For a month? What kind of services do you think I offer here?” Anya held her head as if nausea had struck her suddenly, “I think I need to sit down.”
Anya headed for the sitting area that sat tucked away in the far corner of the studio.
Ornate lanterns with intricate metal relief carvings suspended from the utility pipes above and hung low in varying length around a gold leaf table. Around the table sat oversize embellished floor pillows. A hand-carved screen sectioned off the area from the rest of the studio.
Steffan followed Anya, suddenly realizing the misconception in his explanation. “No, Anya, I am not paying for you. I don’t mean for it to sound like that. I mean, I did pay for your time. B-But it was strictly to compensate you, for adjusting your schedule with your existing students to accommodate my time frame. You know, just in case you couldn’t successfully reschedule them?” Steffan stumbled on his words and drifted from his usual charismatic and poised presence.
Anya sat on the floor pillow and bent her knees, bringing them close to her chest as she faced Steffan. “Well, thank you for your consideration. But, it still sounds like you were paying just to meet me. Are you even interested in cello lessons at all?”
Steffan sported a hearty grin as he took a seat on a floor pillow. He sat facing Anya. He eased into a comfortable position. “Actually, I’m very skilled at the violin and always wanted a cello partner. I’ve composed some pieces that would be complemented by a cello. You play…eloquently.”
Anya’s smile lit up her face.
Steffan reached out to cup her hands as they folded around her legs. “Anya, I know I this may seem strange. In fact, I meant to be here on time, but I agonized over this and needed more time before I walked into this room. I thought I was prepared. I had it all played out in my head. I need time to know what to do, what to say to you. I had already thought of ways I could come here and pretend I have no clue about playing an instrument or reading music, to go along with this charade. But I just couldn’t do it. I wanted you to know exactly why I’m here, even if it sounds creepy. I don’t want to play games.”
“Good. I don’t like to play games either.”
“Anya, I’ve seen you before I met you.”
Anya’s body stiffened in response.
“Wait, hear me out.” Steffan paused. “The day when you moved into Ambrose Heights and you pulled up to my driveway…”
“Oh my god, you knew I was there? You saw me? You’re the guy who lives in the castle?” Anya released her hands from Steffan’s hold and placed them over her mouth in sheer embarrassment.
“Yes, I live there. Eilian, my brother, he saw you in my driveway. I was in the house. I never saw you, but I felt you, Anya. I felt your presence as you walked up the driveway.”
Steffan leaned in and cupped her chin delicately with his hand. “After you left, brief images of you rolled in my mind. I saw your hair, your eyes, and your skin. I even heard your voice and could smell your perfume. And…” Steffan paused, unsure if he would frighten Anya with his next statement. He released her chin and spoke. “That tattoo on your shoulder. If I’m not mistaken, I believe it’s the Ohm symbol.”
Anya’s face turned pale.
You’re scaring her, he thought as he fought to refine his revelation to her.
“And since that time, you’ve been with me every day. I dream of you at night and think of you during the day. All of this and I never met you before. I never experienced anything like this. I found out that you teach here and work at Mystic’s Mirth, and from then on, I’ve been working up the courage and the strength to come and meet you. That’s why I’m here.”
Steffan searched for a reaction from Anya.
Please don’t get scared. Please don’t run. Please trust me, he begged in his mind.
Anya shifted her body toward Steffan and kneeled between his legs. She reached for the buttons on his shirt. One by one, she slowly undid them as she remained fixated on his eyes.
“No!” Steffan caught her hand and stopped her movement. “I want to. Believe me. I want nothing more than to be with you, but I didn’t come here for that. I came here to understand this connection I have to you.”
“No, you don’t understand. I need to see something right now. I need to see what’s on your left bicep and right shoulder.”
“My tattoos? How did you know?”
Anya gasped as she ripped at the buttons and tore Steffan’s shirt open, working the material down his arm.
There it was.
Steffan’s dark and delicious tattoos were on clear display.

Interview with John Simpson

2012-01-26T04:59:00.004-05:00

Hi John Thanks for joining me Between the Stacks. Let hop right to the Q&A.

So why write erotic stories?

To be perfectly honest, it was the only way to break into being a published author. It's very difficult to just walk up to a publisher and say, "I'm new at all this, but will you publish this story which by the way is the first one I've ever written?" So, a very young publisher at the time took a risk on me and put out my first ever written book. It is still selling four years later and making money for both the publisher and me.

When did you start writing erotic stories?
I actually began writing five years ago, and was publisher a little lover four years ago.

What is the strangest reaction you've gotten when you tell people what you write or that you're a writer?

They immediately want the names of books that I have written which makes it difficult in certain circumstances. I was on a transatlantic cruise once aboard the Queen Mary II, two years ago, and this conversation took place at the dinner table. I threw out a few titles that didn't have the word gay in them. The next evening, one of the elderly married gentlemen that was seated at our table with his wife said: By the way John, I want to the internet cafe and bought and downloaded a couple of your books. I'm going to start reading them this evening. To say I was shocked would be an understatement. After all, I hadn't told them it was erotica or gay. After dinner was over, I quickly pulled him aside and whispered to him, "I'm sorry I didn't tell you first, but they are erotic gay romance books. You may not want to read them." To my incredible surprise, he replied, "Nonsense, I'm a grown man. You think a little gay action is going to cause me to throw myself overboard? Don't you think I read the blurbs about the two books I bought? Relax John." I do hope he kept them from his 80 year old wife however as many of my books are quite detailed when the main characters decide to make love.

How do you feel about most of the m/m books in the market being written by and for women?

I stay so busy writing and all the attending duties that come along with that, I sadly don't get a chance to read at all! I notice when a particular book gets an award and make a mental note of the author and title. As for the fact that most authors are women...I'm not surprised. We write fiction, not design nuclear weapons. Either a man or a woman is capable of combining the elements of what makes up a good male/male romance novel. Just as with male authors, there are good and bad female authors. I think I was originally surprised that the largest customer base was married women. That would have never dawned on me as the way it was. But, men LOVE woman or woman stories, films, pictures, so why not the opposite way as well?

On your about page it says you use your extensive history as bases for your books. How much is real and how much fiction, in your books?

A good deal of the technical information in my books is real. I do however never reveal any secrets or information that might compromise security of anyone or anything. Additionally, much of the classified information that I possess is no longer really classified. I always search on the internet to see if something in particular can be found and was shocked to my socks to find not only diagrams but actual photos of what in the 1970's was highly classified information. So when that happens, I write stuff into my stories since it is now public information. But I am very careful about certain areas of government operations that I do not reveal anything not already in the public domain.

I noticed a couple of your books have co-authors. What was this experience like?

Yes, I have been approached by three different authors who asked me to collaborate on books with them. In general, it has been a pleasant experience once the mechanics of how to work together are worked out. It's less royalty for me, but then again, it's half the work to put a book out. So, as long as you get along with your co-author, it is nice. My current co-author is not only an active duty police officer, he's my best friend. I'm having a blast with him, and our first book comes out the 19th of December called, "The Rent Boy Murders."

Do you prefer working with another author or by yourself?

All in all, I prefer to work by myself. Working with a co-author can be fun and be a break in work load as well. But at the end of the day, I like seeing only my name on the front cover of the book, and my personal seal on the back of the book. Of course, there is the royalty's angle as well. Much rather have 100% of my royalties than only half.

What was your inspiration for Pain and Revenge?

This gets into a little bit of that "I don't reveal too much detail about certain things." Let's just say this; I have the Soviet Union's Secret Service security button for Gorbachov's last visit to the United States as Premier of the Soviet Union. It was given to me by the head of his Soviet Security team. I have also been inside Washington D.C. embassies of both friends and enemies for various reasons. I was also stationed in England for two years where this story is set.

I haven't seen many m/m BDSM books. Why did you choose to do this book in this genre?

I chose to do it for precisely the reason you bring up. BDSM is big in the gay community in many places but very little fiction has been put out on it. This is my 3rd book involving BDSM. Previously, I have written, "Spanking for Love," and "School of Discipline." I have another book, "The Frat House," under contract with Silver Publishing and this book, Pain and Revenge. "Pain and Revenge," is by far the edgiest of the BDSM books and will curl a couple of toes for those who read it. It's a wild ride that they'll enjoy if they let themselves go! I plan on writing a few more stories in this vein in the coming months.

Finally can you tell us what you have coming up?

I have "The Rent Boy Murders," on the 19th of December, "Pain and Revenge" in January from NNP, "The Beach House," from Dreamspinner Press, "Night Patrol," from Silver Publishing, "The Frat House," from Silver Publishing, and "The Hard Streets," from an unknown publisher at this time. I have two full novels on the drawing boards and will begin on the first one at the end of January and will be the fourth in "Murder Most Gay," series.

Thank you for talking with us John.

It was my pleasure and thank you so much for having me with you!

Pain and Revenge

Gay/BDSM/Thriller/Suspense

Rookie CIA agent James Elliot is sent to his first assignment in London, where he finds out that not only does the CIA know that he's gay, but that he's been brought in on an assignment precisely for that reason. James is thrown into a situation where he must seduce a Russian GRU Agent and find out what he's doing in England.

Warning: male/male forced sex scene that is intricate to the plot. Also spankings are the sadistic Russians specialty and the question is, "Can James Elliot hold out to finish the job?" The novella reaches a satisfactory conclusion as the answer to the question.

Excerpt from Pain and Revenge - John Simpson

I was just about to begin to fill him in on his assignment, shall I proceed?" Severs asked.

"Yes, by all means."

A photograph took up the entire screen at the other end of the table.

"This is Gregor Malakoff. He's just been brought in to the Russian Embassy as a "general trade," mission member but his real job is GRU, or the Glavnoye Razvedyvatel'noye Upravleniye also known as Russian military intelligence. As you know, the GRU is Russia's largest intelligence agency which also controls their "Spetsnaz," or Special Forces.

Here's what we have on him personally: He is 5'11, 190 pounds of solid muscle. He works out four times a week and is deadly when it comes to marshal arts. Brown hair, blue eyes. One more thing, he's gay. He has a preference for males of a slighter build, blond hair, blue eyes, on the submissive side, shorter or as tall as him but no taller, and between 145 pounds and 200. Oh, and he likes his men hung and preferably into leather type bedroom activities."

"And you're telling me all this detail, why?"

"Elliot, we know as the agency knows that you are gay. You have blond hair, blue eyes, are 5'10, 185, fairly well built. The only thing the agency doesn't know is if you're hung or not. Are you?"

"Am I what? Hung? Are you kidding me? You want me to go after this Malakoff sexually?"

"Are you hung?"

"Yes damnit! What if I weren't? Would that exclude me from this madness?"

"No, you would just have to try harder in other areas. Sorry to get so personal James, really am. However, it's vital that you become a honey pot for this man."

"A what?"

"It's an old expression in the spy business. Both sides would use good looking women who were agents to get next to their targets and suck information out of them as it were. This is the same principle using the male gender."

"Yeah, I understand. Only it won't be just information that I'll be forced to suck out of this dude."

"It's for the flag James, the women had to do the same thing and more."

"Why is this guy so important?"

"We need to find out why the GRU has sent a man here to London of all places. It's not the usual location for this type of agent. Your job is to find out how long he's going to be here, and why. You'll wanna get invited back to his flat since he doesn't stay at the Embassy, and find out what he has there. Your cover will be what it is. You're an accountant for an American company that imports both English and Scottish products to the states. It's all in your briefing file, including the bars this guy likes to hang out in."

"You'll be given the latest in listening devices so that we should be able to monitor you wherever you go and whatever you do."

"Wonderful. You said he was into leather stuff, like what?" James asked.

"He likes to frequent bars that engage in spanking and whips. London has about five such bars and he has his favorites."

"Oh my God! You mean to tell me that since I'm supposed to be submissive that this guy is going to be beating my ass on top of everything else?"

"It may come to that, yes I'm afraid."

"You're afraid? It won't be your ass or back that feels the beating. Damn!"

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Contest ends 2/2/12 I will pick the winners via Random.org. Once the winners are picked I'll email them and post here. The winners then have 48 hours to reply if they don't reply in that time frame I will pick new winners and the previous ones will have forfeited their winnings.

Guest Post by Elizabeth Kyne

2012-01-25T04:24:00.002-05:00

THE WOMAN’S RELATIONSHIP WITH RELATIONSHIPS

Author Elizabeth Kyne ponders the difficulties of Boy Meets Girl

in the modern world

It’s all supposed to be very simple. Boy meets girl; boy and girl fall in love; boy and girl get married and spawn other boys and girls who grow up and start the cycle off all over again. Why doesn’t it work out like that in real life? Somehow it just doesn’t seem to work out like that in real life. All too often it seems to be boy meets girl, they have a massive row and split up again. Or boy marries girl only to file for divorce some years later. That is, of course, if boy ever actually gets round to meeting girl in the first place. It’s crazy.

But, why is it so crazy? Surely it wasn’t always this way? Men and women have been getting together since the dawn of time, it can’t have always been that difficult otherwise no one would have made babies back in the past and none of us would be here. In fact, even as close as my mother’s generation, life was simpler. You’d find someone in the same town or village you could get along with and you’d marry them. It was just what you did. My mother occasionally says of my father: “he was all right when I met him, and he’s still all right”. It may not have been a Mills and Boon love affair, but it seems to have worked out.

These days, it’s faaaaar more complicated. Forget having to chose from the available specimens in the local vicinity, because with the internet and world travel, the whole globe is up for grabs. Us women don’t want to settle for “all right”, because if “all right” is all there is in our immediate circle, we simply expand this circle until we find something better. And who says we can do that? The media. Magazines, novels, television, the movies all peddle the possibility of finding “the one”, our “true love”. And, of course, we buy into it because the idea of falling in love is such a seductive one that we want to see it played out in front of us over and over again, and believe it can really happen to us too.

As knowledge of the world – and the potential life-partner pool – has expanded, so has the possibilities for women. Those of us who, a generation ago, might have got married in our late teens are now going into work or onto higher education. Many relationships that are kindled in the teenage years simply die out as one or both partners go away to universities far away from each other, meet new people and develop our personalities. Some of us will meet our life-partner at university, but for others it’s a three-year block from which we emerge back into the real world to find a new job and a new place to settle down. In terms of forming relationships, it’s like we’re starting again. Suddenly, we have a whole new set of people in which we might meet “the one.”

That’s if the whole boy meets girl thing is our top priority by this stage. Because here, suddenly, for both the boy and the girl is a new opportunity. They’re relatively young, newly qualified and ready to start into the world of work. They want to make an impression, to progress in a career, to earn money and have fun. This is the case whether they’re straight out of university, college or school. For many people, there are more important things to think about than a relationship. Because there’s plenty of time.

Until there isn’t. It creeps up on you like a dark monster who’s been hiding in the corner. Always hovering, but never quite making himself known until this moment. Suddenly, the rush is on, especially if there are hopes of children on the horizon. Because, the cruel thing is that even though modern life has given the woman marvellous opportunities in the world of education, work and travel, it hasn’t extended the time span in which the woman can have babies. Panic can start to set in, and now all those opportunities to find “the one” seem to multiply to an ever-dazzling array of indecision. Should you try the scary world of internet dating, the equally daunting prospect of picking up a man in a bar or allow your friend to fix you up with that poor sad lonely bloke she knows?

Not everyone has these issues, of course. I look around me and there are women who seem to have got it together, found a man, got married or moved in together, had children and all seems to be hunky dory. It may not quite match up to the idealistic love stories of Hollywood, but they seem to be getting by. Which makes the position of someone to whom this has not happened, feel a little out of place. It’s these out-of-place women, like me, that I write about. In my novel If Wishes Were Husbands, the main character Rachel is so irritated at being a forty-something single woman that she invents a perfect husband for herself; a strategy that backfires when he comes to life. Her best friend, meanwhile, is getting to the point where she is so desperate to find a man that she’ll take anyone who asks, even if she doesn’t like him. Even Rachel’s mother is looking for a new man and a little excitement, after many years of being divorced.

The lives of women like this interest me because this is really the first generation this has happened to. There have always been spinsters, sure, and women who have lost men through war, illness and accident, but we are the first who seem to have chosen this difficult way of life. Who bought into the idea that we could have everything, from education to a career and our one true love, which has left the traditional ambitions of husband, home and family on the back-burner.

But I wouldn’t want to turn the clock back, to a more “simpler” age. I wouldn’t want to marry a man just because he was “all right”. I wouldn’t want to settle for whoever happened to live in the same village as me, or be subject to an arranged marriage, or live in a Jane Austen world where a woman has to marry or end up destitute. I value my freedom. I like that I’ve been able to go to university and have a career, even if more traditional pursuits have fallen by the wayside. We live in interesting times, as the saying goes, and I’m content with that. It may have made finding a man and settling down a bit more complicated than it was in the past, but at least it has given me something to write about.

*****

Rachel re-invents herself when she moves back to her home town of Aylesbury; with a new job, a new house and a new haircut. But people’s eyes glaze over when she tells them about her life as a forty-something singleton who works in accounts. So why not spice things up a bit? Why not tell her new hairdresser and her new friends about her fantastic husband? Everyone wants to hear about Darren, the man who cooks her amazing meals, cleans the house and takes her to bed for orgasmic sex three times a night! What a shame he doesn't exist…

…Until she comes home one night and finds Darren sitting in her lounge. And everything she said becomes true: from his sensuous food to his skill in bed. So real, that she believes it.

Not as if living with a perfect is man is… well, perfect…

She can’t find anything because every time she puts something down, he tidies it away. Then there’s the shock of the credit card bill from buying all that gourmet food. Not to mention the sex! Three times a night is great at first, but sometimes all she wants at the end of the day is a sandwich and some sleep.

Then Rachel decides that Darren has to go - and that’s when her troubles really begin.

Elizabeth Kyne takes the absurdities of the modern woman's quest for love and turns them into an enjoyable romp. She finds the comic in everyday situations, from buying a dress to experimenting with hair dye at home. While, underneath, she comments on the pressure to find the perfect husband and how that quest is doomed for us all.

PAPERBACK

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Wishes-Were-Husbands-Elizabeth-Kyne/dp/1908340010/ref=sr_1_3?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1319364974&sr=1-3

http://www.amazon.com/Wishes-Were-Husbands-Elizabeth-Kyne/dp/1908340010/ref=tmm_pap_title_0?ie=UTF8&qid=1319365757&sr=1-3

EBOOK

http://www.amazon.co.uk/If-Wishes-Were-Husbands-ebook/dp/B005S66A8M/ref=sr_1_2?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1319364974&sr=1-2

http://www.amazon.com/If-Wishes-Were-Husbands-ebook/dp/B005S66A8M/ref=sr_1_3?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1319365757&sr=1-3

http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/92446

http://itunes.apple.com/gb/book/if-wishes-were-husbands/id475075856?mt=11

http://itunes.apple.com/us/book/if-wishes-were-husbands/id475075856?mt=11

http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/if-wishes-were-husbands-elizabeth-kyne/1106913246

http://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-ifwisheswerehusbands-606059-150.html

*****

Elizabeth Kyne trained to be a radio journalist and spent her early working years reading news bulletins and writing for magazines. Later, after learning the meaning of “mortgage” and “gas bill”, she decided to do the sensible thing and drop the freelance lifestyle to get a proper job. The job, however, all went horribly wrong and she returned to her first love of writing, and worked on several novels before finding success with “If Wishes Were Husbands”.

http://www.elizabethkyne.co.uk

http://www.facebook.com/elizabeth.kyne1

If Wishes Were Husbands by Elizabeth Kyne

2012-01-25T01:13:00.000-05:00

If Wishes Were Husbands by Elizabeth Kyne
Rachel re-invents herself when she moves back to her home town of Aylesbury; with a new job, a new house and a new haircut. But people’s eyes glaze over when she tells them about her life as a forty-something singleton who works in accounts. So why not spice things up a bit? Why not tell her new hairdresser and her new friends about her fantastic husband? Everyone wants to hear about Darren, the man who cooks her amazing meals, cleans the house and takes her to bed for orgasmic sex three times a night! What a shame he doesn’t exist…
…Until she comes home one night and finds Darren sitting in her lounge. And everything she said becomes true: from his sensuous food to his skill in bed. So real, that she believes it.
Not as if living with a perfect is man is… well, perfect…
She can’t find anything because every time she puts something down, he tidies it away. Then there’s the shock of the credit card bill from buying all that gourmet food. Not to mention the sex! Three times a night is great at first, but sometimes all she wants at the end of the day is a sandwich and some sleep.
Then Rachel decides that Darren has to go – and that’s when her troubles really begin.

Review:I liked the premise of this story, but was very confused for most the book. Here's what confused me the most, Rachel is at frist freaked right out which is understandable. I would be too, finding a strange guy in my house, in the middle of the night. Then she suddenly gives in, and they act like everything's going to be ok. But things don't add up she's missing memories. Darren starts to bug her, with his perfectness. Ok now instead of talking it out, like I have to hope most normal couples would, Rachel blows a gasket and flips.
I really felt bad for Darren, all he wanted to do is please his wife. Yet nothing he did was good enough. As you can probably tell I wasn't all that crazy about Rachel.
But I did like the story because it was something different and I did find myself caught up in what was going on. I had to find out how it would end. If you're looking for something out of the norm check this out.

This product was provided to me free of charge in exchange for an unbiased review. This review is in compliance with the FTC guidelines.

Guest Post From S. J. Clarke

2012-01-24T05:18:00.004-05:00

Awkward!
I love romance books. I love the relationship build-up, the meet, the banked desire, the moment the scales tip and rational thinking goes out the window. Sexual tension is always great, and hopefully, so is the sex it leads to.

Part of being a good writer is using our imaginations. I love to introduce a little sex to spice up my fiction. It adds to the story. And it's fun! Some readers think I, personally, put every move my characters make to the test. It's at these moments I need to remind myself of my great sense of humour. Truthfully, if I could get away with the stunts my characters pull, and in some of the locations, I'd lead an entirely different life. On the odd day I'll day dream about that life. A particularly good day dream might makes its way into a book. Research is important, but common sense can take us a long way too.

Friends in my book club recently read my novel, Mind Over Matter. The most difficult part, they revealed, was how much effort they had to put into separating their friend from the author of the book. They had to put mental blinders on because I kept getting in the way of the story. Eventually, they managed to focus and enjoyed the read, which is a good thing.

But the mere fact they had trouble separating me from the story made all those old fears rise to the surface again. What were the people who know me thinking when they read chapter seven? My friends, my former boss, my brother, my mother! We're all adults right. I've had sex. I have two children to prove it. Not even Ricky Gervais would dare call me a virgin.

Readers aren't looking for relationship advice. They just want an escape. Entertainment. They can exercise their thumb on the remote control or exercise their minds reading a book. I'm grateful to those who choose the book.

So why the hang up? Is sex so sacred it can't be shared with others? Yes! Some shout. But if that's the case, why is the romance genre outselling most others? Are we lacking good sex? Do we secretly want a better partner with better – um, assets? Does what we read reflect our inner-most desires? I hope not. I don't want to run into vampires, werewolves, or serial killers anytime soon. I do want the intimate moments of my characters to contribute to the story. If it's good sex, what (besides the obvious) did they get out of it. Bad sex has to happen for a reason too – it's has to advance the plot. Like filming sex in cinema, the scene is technically manipulated to achieve the desired result.

Will an awkward chill work its way up my spine on occasion when I wonder what people think of my books? Sure, but the questions I'm asking are about the story. Did they enjoy it? Did I carry them along on a ride they'll remember? Will they recommend the book to friends? Buy my next book? I won't wonder if my book spiced up their sex life, but more power to them if it did.

Mind Over Matter

By S.J. Clarke

Rebecca McKenney grieved the loss of her daughter for three years. Now, a vision showing Sabrina three years older, suggests her baby is still alive, and the FBI agent who gave up the search is the only one who can help find her.

Special Agent Dan Cooper is haunted by a tragic mistake made early in the investigation of Sabrina's disappearance. Now to ease his conscience he agrees to help Rebecca search.

Together they fight inner demons, all to real bad guys, and an attraction neither wants to admit to. Each step closer to finding Sabrina is a step deeper into deception and evil.

Can Rebecca and Dan save Sabrina before it's too late?

Excerpt:

Rebecca knew from experience she didn't have much time left. A vision came at her, hard and strong...

The child’s face from the milk carton, about six or seven years old, hovered before her, similar yet different. Shivers wracked her body as she huddled in a corner, her long brown curls limp and dull. Smudges on her face spread when she used a dirty forearm to swipe away tears, and a cut bled through the tear in her dress. A flickering light illuminated the dark room, hinting at secrets in the shadows. The sound of water dripping, slow and steady like a leaky faucet, met Rebecca’s ears and her nose crinkled at the stench of urine and human waste. The child looked up. All trace of color drained from her face when a deep voice crept out of the darkness.

“It’s time.”

“Rebecca, did you hear me?” Ruby’s voice penetrated the fog surrounding Rebecca’s mind.

“W-What?” She lifted her head, taking in the dining room around her. The tourist family still sat waiting for their breakfast. “I’m sorry Ruby, what did you say?”

“You okay, hon? You were in another world there for a minute.”

“I’m fine. Really,” she added at Ruby’s doubtful expression. “Didn’t sleep well again last night, I guess.” She forced a grin. “Good thing you caught me before I nodded off and started drooling in my coffee.” The mention of coffee drew Rebecca’s gaze to the carton of milk again. The girl’s innocent face stared back. Something seemed wrong. Rebecca leaned in, reading the caption under the photo. Nicole Wilson; missing for six years, before Bree even.

“I hope you don’t mind that I helped myself to the milk,” Rebecca said, and explained what happened. “Didn’t want to be a bother.”

“Honey, it’s no problem at all, but you didn't have to do that.”

“Not to worry, it’s over and done now.” Rebecca looked down at the pancakes and fruit before her and knew little would make it past her lips “Breakfast looks delicious, as usual,” she lied.

Ruby looked over at the children’s order of pancakes in front of the empty seat across from Rebecca. She moved her gaze back to Rebecca for a moment longer, before nodding as if confirming something in her head. “Okay then. Enjoy.” Ruby picked up the milk carton as a bell dinged from the kitchen area. “Let me know if you need a refill on your coffee.” Smiling, Ruby went off to deliver the next order.

Rebecca’s stomach roiled at the thought of eating. Nausea and a headache overwhelmed her. She needed to get home where she could decipher what this vision meant. With Ruby monitoring her every move, coming up with a way out of the diner proved difficult.

Forcing another smile, Rebecca picked up her fork and knife and waved them in the air for Ruby to see. At Ruby’s disappointed frown, Rebecca cut the pancakes, and placed a small piece between her lips. Once Ruby smiled and turned away, Rebecca spit the bite out into a napkin. She spent another few minutes cutting and moving food around, hiding small bits under the second pancake. Pulling some money out of her wallet, she kept an eye out. As soon as Ruby went back to the kitchen for the next order pick-up, Rebecca threw the bills down on the table and made her escape.

Rebecca’s first deep breath came when she sat safe inside her car at the other end of Main Street. Home. She had to hold it together until then. Shoving the key into the ignition, she crossed her fingers, and then groaned at the dull grind that met her ears.

“Crap. Not today!” Rebecca cursed for putting off taking the car in to Joshua. Hands shaking, she tried again, holding her grimace until the engine caught.

The edge of another vision crept in while she pulled into the driveway. “Shit. One more minute, come on, one more minute.”

She fumbled at the keyhole, hands shaking too hard to fit the key in the lock. Rebecca crossed the threshold and fell to her knees as the pain sliced in again, worse this time. Never before had two visions come so close together. What the hell?

Rebecca’s world faded and in its place…

Sabrina appeared. Her baby. Sitting on the floor in a room of shadows, chin resting on drawn up knees. “Where are you Mommy? Why haven’t you come?” The shadows opened up, pushing forward to swallow both the light and Bree.

“Nooooooooo.” Rebecca came back tears streaming down her face and fell to the floor. Limp, she laid there, an arm thrown across her eyes. “So close.”

Rebecca rolled as her stomach revolted, giving up its meager contents. Pushing herself to her knees with the last heave, she drew the back of a hand across her mouth.

The memory of losing Sabrina burned in her mind forever, but these fresh images; God, they made it so much worse. Rebecca crawled the few feet to the still open door, shoved it closed and leaned against it, shaking with sobs.

The late morning sun shone through the windows when she refocused. Struggling to her feet, she took in the scene around her.

Clean this mess up, and then shower. You can deal with the rest later. Rebecca tossed the soiled clothes in the washing machine on the way to the bathroom.

Revived by the hot shower, Rebecca poured a glass of iced tea. She curled up in the big chair in the living room, rested her chin on her knees, and tried to make sense of the morning’s events. Break it down. Concentrate on one thing at a time. Tackle the vision at Ruby’s first.

Who are you, Nicole Wilson, and why are you in my head?

About The Author

S. J. Clarke has published over fifty articles as a columnist and regular contributor for a variety of lifestyle and human interest websites. She is a grateful member of the Writers' Community of Durham Region, and proud to sit on the Board of Directors for The Ontario Writer's Conference.

Sandra also co-authored Touretties, a touching tribute featuring testimonials from patients and and their loved ones living with Tourettes.

Mind Over Matter, released in November, 2011 through MuseItUp Publishing, is her first novel.

Check out my new website at: http://sjclarke.com

Friend me on Facebook: http://on.fb.me/jzcSq4

Follow me on Twitter: http://twitter.com/sandrajc

Join me on LinkedIn: http://www.linkedin.com/home?trk=hb_tab_home_top

Mind Over Matter Facebook Page:

http://www.facebook.com/MindOverMatterbySJClarke

Banshee Charmer by Tiffany Allee

2012-01-23T10:40:00.000-05:00

Banshee Charmer (From the Files of the Otherworlder Enforcement Agency #1)
by Tiffany Allee
When she’s sent to a crime scene and finds her second dead woman in as many weeks, half-banshee detective Kiera “Mac” McLoughlin is convinced a serial killer is on the loose. Incubi are extinct, her boss insists. But what else can kill a woman in the throes of pleasure? When her partner is murdered after using witchcraft to locate the killer and Mac is thrown off the case, her frustration turns to desperation.

Certain the killer is an incubus, Mac works behind her department’s back to chase down slim, sometimes perilous leads. While the killer eludes her, she does discover handsome Aidan Byrne, an investigative counterpart from the enigmatic Otherworlder Enforcement Agency. Mac typically runs her investigations fast and hard, but with Aidan at her side, she’s running this one “hot” as well. But Aidan knows more than he’s letting on—something that could shatter their blazing romance and add Mac to the killer’s growing body count…

Review: I thought this book was so cool. It's a new twist on the paranormal aspect. I've never come across a book with the main character is a banshee. Ok actually Kiera is a half banshee, but still. The story really pulled me in as the investigation proceeded. I really wanted to know who the killer was and what Aiden's involvement really was. I have to say I half expected him to be the killer, but then realized since he was the love intrest... but it would've been an awesome twist. Although I might have cried if he was, I also kind of suspected another secondary character. I wound up canning the idea before the end. See as evidence was revealed I had to change my ideas.
Keira was so wonderful, tough yet soft all at the same time. I really loved that she wasn't like the usual tough as nails chicks. She had her soft moments as well. The chemistry between Aiden and Kiera was great, it basically crackled from the get go. Yet you never get a firm grip on Aiden he's very dark and mysterious. Which is all part of his charm.
I have admit that by the end I had figured out what was going on and who dunit. But I couldn't put the book down I was so engrossed that I just absolutely had to finish. It was just so good. If you're a fan of suspense and like the paranormal definitely check this out. It creates a whole world based on mythos and real places. Giving this is book one in a series I can't wait to see where it goes from here.

This product was provided to me free of charge in exchange for an unbiased review. This review is in compliance with the FTC guidelines.

Winner of Taken

2012-01-23T06:36:00.000-05:00

Congrats to...

Michele Williams

I'll send your info to the author and she'll let you know how to get your prize

What's Beside Your Bed #35

2012-01-23T00:25:00.000-05:00

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For a smaller version of the banner scroll down and look on the right hand side in the sidebar.

I'm changing things up. This is basically an adult book blogger version of What Are You Reading? But I want to let people who don't have blog to join in too. So I've added a step for those of you who'd like to join but don't want to actually link up. All you have to do is...

Post the banner {Optional}
Jot down what is currently on your night stand, What you're reading before bed, or You can just post your current read.
Then link up.
If you don't have a blog or don't want to link up but want to join in just post in the comments.

Ok Beside my Bed this week is...

Is free stuff really free?

2012-01-21T11:30:00.001-05:00

Have you ever complained that your reviewing takes up a lot of your time and then have the person your talking to say yeah well at least your getting free ____ (insert books, toys, adult products, food, etc)?
I get this a lot from Hubs and my Mom.
And it irks me because is it really free? When I started doing the Etsy shop with Mom I looked up what I should charge for my products, it's bases on supplies, and time. Yeah Time how much time I have to put into a product. Now if I should charge for my time to make things, doesn't that make my time valuable? Think about how much time I put into a book review. I have to read the book which takes any where from a few hours to a few days depending on how long the book is, then I have to write the review, edit the review (which I suck at), post it, pimp it and then re-post at various sites.
This all takes time!
So in reality I'm paying for this "stuff" with my time. Right?
What's the saying? Time is Money! Well then why do people think we're getting "stuff" for free. Don't they know how much work and time goes into reviewing "stuff"?
Now Granted I do enjoy reading and I enjoy working on crafts so when I work up prices for my etsy stuff I don't charge you for my time. But when I review shouldn't I get something in return for all the valuable time I put into it. Or am I comparing apples and oranges?

What do you, my fellow reviewers think? Is all that free stuff, really free?

Guest Post by Justine Elyot

2012-01-20T03:47:00.003-05:00

What would we all do without the internet? I, for one, don't think I'd ever have taken up writing, unless it was a bit of angsty scribbling in a diary. It has allowed voices that might have otherwise faded and died with their owners to be heard. All hail!

Of course, writers are far from the sole beneficiaries of universal access to the web. Pretty much every group in society has something to thank it for – and the group represented in my new novel Meeting Her Match has cause to be more grateful than most.

Before the internet, if you, like my protagonist Cherry, wanted to meet a like-minded soul, you had to trust to luck. If you were very dedicated and a bit brave, perhaps you'd reply to a personals ad in a specialist magazine. You might manage to sniff out an underground nightclub, or you might just try to get off with that person dressed in leather, because they looked the type. Of course, they were very likely simply a biker or a fan of hard rock. That was a chance you had to take.

Because Cherry is interested in BDSM. She is lucky – she has the world of kink at her fingertips every time she logs on to her laptop. She can sign up with Fetlife, Informed Consent, CollarMe or any number of more specialised networking sites. She can browse blogs full of information about The Lifestyle. Pretty much every large town has its social groups and club nights.

Sounds like finding your dream dom is a cinch these days, doesn't it?

But is it really?

Here's an excerpt:

We had negotiated the scene beforehand this time. We knew exactly who was playing what role, and what body parts were going where and in whom afterwards.

Maz, in severe tweed and a tight bun, was my piano teacher, tapping my knuckles with her baton whenever my fingers strayed on to the wrong keys. Once I had made three successive errors, I was told to bend over the piano stool while she lifted my skirt and petticoat, lowered my old-fashioned bloomers and spanked me hard with the conductor's baton. It didn't hurt very much, being similar in length and width to a knitting needle, so she switched to using her hand, which was pretty hard considering it lacked the size and firm quality of Justin's.

Once my arse was reddened to her satisfaction, she pulled the bloomers back up and I sat back on the stool and continued with the piece.

But it still wasn't good enough. My hands were wrenched off the keys, the lid put down and I was led by the hand to the next room, where 'Professor Stern', the head of the conservatoire, kept his office.

"Enter," said Justin.

I had to freeze my facial muscles to avoid smiling when I saw him. He had found a dusty old black schoolmaster's gown from somewhere and was holding it at the lapels, pacing up and down my hastily-rearranged bedroom.

"What appears to be the problem, Miss Cross?"

"This lazy girl hasn't practised since our last lesson," said Maz.

"That's not true," I protested, but their combined wrathful looks soon drove my rebellious spirit back inside me and I listened mutely while they discussed my poor performance.

"I've spanked her once already today, but it seems to have done no good," complained Maz. "The girl has had to bare her bottom every day since we started - she is by far my laziest student. I think stronger measures are called for, Professor."

"I see. Well, Miss Delray, it's a very long time since I've had such a recalcitrant student as you. I'm not sure the conservatoire is the right place for you any more."

"Oh, please, Sir, don't expel me! The shame would kill my mother!" I exclaimed, hamming it up for the non-existent gallery.

"I'm going to offer you another chance," said Justin.

"Oh, thank you, thank you." I wondered about sinking to my knees, but held myself in check as Justin opened my wardrobe door.

"Don't thank me, Miss Delray, until I've finished with you. I might not be expelling you, but it's clear that some extraordinary measures are needed to encourage you to develop your self-discipline." He emerged from the wardrobe wielding a rattan cane.

What happens next? Here's more info:

In the internet age, it should be easy for like-minded fetishists to find and connect with each other. Or so Cherry thought. Her decision to enter the wild and wonderful world of BDSM leads her to some interesting and unexpected places. She soon finds herself on 'the scene' and her insatiable curiosity takes her to orgies, slave auctions and mansion houses full of trainee submissives, but where will she find her perfect dom? Will Cherry ever meet her match?

Available in paperback: http://www.amazon.co.uk/Meeting-Her-Match-Justine-Elyot/dp/1908086157/ref=tmm_pap_title_0

And for Kindle: http://www.amazon.co.uk/Meeting-Her-Match-ebook/dp/B006C4C3SK/ref=tmm_kin_title_0?ie=UTF8&m=A3TVV12T0I6NSM

Justine Elyot is the UK bestselling author of On Demand, The Business of Pleasure and Erotic Amusements. When she isn't buried under a pile of new projects, you can find her waving at the world from her website http://justineelyot.com/ or gassing about trivialities on Twitter https://twitter.com/#!/JustineElyot.

Winner of Stone Cold Seduction

2012-01-20T00:48:00.000-05:00

Sorry this is late folks, I'm over worked and under paid.

Congrats to ...

Brandy Wagoner

I'll send your info to the author/ publisher who will contact you with how to claim your prize.

Guest Post by Avery Flynn

2012-01-19T04:28:00.005-05:00

Hot Man With a Badge

By Avery Flynn

I blame it all on Tom Selleck’s Magnum PI.

Sure he was a PI not a cop, but who could deny the awesomeness of his mustache and the wriggling eyebrows? Smooth, funny, hot and with an amazing car, he charmed and sweet talked while solving mysteries and taking risks because it was the right thing to do. So when it came to write Dry Creek County Sheriff Hank Layton’s story, it wasn’t an actual sheriff who inspired me, instead it was a fictional private investigator with major-league swagger.

Hank is six-feet, three-inches tall, has short dark brown hair and the Layton family hazel eyes. A former Nebraska Cornhusker quarterback, he married his high school sweetheart and seemed to lead a charmed life that in reality was a twisted mess. He is a tortured alpha hero starting over in life and something about Beth Martinez calls out to him.

That’s what I love about the alpha hero. To fully reach his potential, he has to find an alpha heroine - that one person who challenges him and pushes him to be more than he ever thought he could.

In A Dry Creek Bed, that person is Beth Martinez, but she’s a woman of many secrets - one of which may kill her. So despite her strong attraction to Hank, she’s determined to maintain a distance, even if sometimes she slips.

***

Five days into a two-week vacation, he'd given up his Dry Creek Country Sheriff uniform for jeans, a T-shirt and a scraggly beard that he somehow made appealing. Her fingers itched to feel the prickle of the three-day beard on his square jaw, to run through his thick brown hair that she knew from years of lustful observation curled if he let it grow to his collar. He was the stuff of dreams. Naughty, sweaty, tasty dreams.

The object of her desire strolled across the cracked asphalt to her side. The smell of fresh coffee wafted up from the paper cup in his large hands and mixed with the woodsy scent of his cologne.

“Are you okay?” Worry weighed heavy in his deep voice and he brushed a stray hair away from her face, his eyes searching for injuries caused by the car accident.

Every objection to touching him evaporated and all her thoughts focused on how much she wanted to wrap her arms around his waist and soak up his strength.

"I do believe I can arrest you for looking at someone like that, you've got to be breaking some indecency laws."

Taking a deep breath, she recovered her bearings. Mostly. "You're out of your jurisdiction, sheriff."

***

And fireworks ensue.

Hank can’t stop thinking about Beth to the point where he’s afraid of becoming permanently bowlegged. And even though the sexual tension between them is thick enough to trip over, she runs every time he chases.

But when a mysterious developer forces her neighbors off their land, Beth becomes the one person standing between the scoundrel and millions of dollars. Only Hank can help her uncover the truth. Together they risk their lives exposing decades-old secrets and learn that everything is not as it seems in their rural Nebraska town.

A Dry Creek Bed

By Avery Flynn

Book 2

Blurb

"I do believe I can arrest you for looking at someone like that. You've got to be breaking some indecency laws."

Taking a deep breath, she recovered her bearings. Mostly. "You're out of your jurisdiction, sheriff."

Dry Creek County Sheriff Hank Layton is the stuff of dreams. Nasty, steamy, delicious fantasies that leave Beth Martinez weak-kneed and desperately wanting the man she can never have.

A Dry Creek Bed Excerpt - The Kiss

She stopped with her back to him. "One kiss?"

“One little kiss.”

A fall breeze brushed the tips of her mahogany hair across her back and she straightened her shoulders. Spinning around, she made her way back to him with a fuck-you strut. Stopping just short of his feet, she dropped her gym bag. It hit the pavement with a thud, the whole world seeming to have gone silent around them.

"Let's get it over with."

Something primal inside of him howled its approval. He wanted to devour her full lips then and there.

Stick to the plan, dude.

He held firm. Barely. "OK, you can kiss me."

"Wait a minute -"

"You're the one who says there's nothing between us, so I figure you should set the tone of the kiss. It's up to you to disprove my theory."

"Of all the stupid things." She huffed out a breath. "Fine."

Hank held his breath, hoping all his bluster would pay off. God, this woman undid him.

She laid her soft hand against his chest. There was no way she could miss the hammering behind his ribs. Navy blue nails shone bright against the red of his cotton shirt. Her shoulders twitched with a shiver. A flicker of doubt shook him. Maybe she'd ignored him after the party for a reason.

Then her lips touched his. Chocolate and caramel coffee teased his taste buds as their tongues twisted around each other.

His hands roamed to the bottom of her soft, wool sweater, snuck underneath the hem and caressed the soft skin above the low waist of her jeans.

Her vanilla perfume surrounded him as he lowered his mouth to taste the sweetness of her neck. He lost himself to the hungry lust streaming through his veins and the moaning woman in his arms. There was no street, no gawking neighbors, no one else in the world.

"Hank, stop." Beth's breath brushed against his cheek.

More plea than demand, her words sliced through his euphoria. Unwilling to let her go yet, he lifted his head but kept his fingers tucked into her waistband. Still tasting her on his lips, he couldn't form any words.

A flush pinked her cheeks as she pursed her kiss-swollen lips. "So ... that's ... out of the way."

Her hand shook when she patted him on the chest, her fingers lingering for a few seconds over his pounding heart. With a sigh she pulled out of his embrace and trudged up to the house, never looking back.

She thought this was over? After a kiss like that? His balls couldn't be any bluer if they were made of blueberries. For a smart woman, she sure wasn't thinking straight.

About the Author:

Avery Flynn, the author of UP A DRY CREEK and A Dry Creek Bed, books one and two in the Dry Creek series set in Nebraska, grew up in a small town in the western part of that state, a far cry from her present day home just outside of Washington, D.C. It was no accident that she went back to her roots for the small town setting for her romantic suspense.

“When I graduated high school,” she says, “I couldn’t cross the state line fast enough. The older I got and the farther I moved away, the more I realized what a wonderful place Nebraska had been to live. I swore I’d set a novel there as a way to give people a look into the amazing folks that live in my home state.”

The name Avery Flynn is a pseudonym for the author who, at least for now, prefers to remain behind the scenes. She believes having Avery as her alter ego is a very good thing because, as she says, “Pen name Avery is way cooler than me. Her favorite color is hot pink. She drinks single malt scotch on the rocks. She loves the Argentinean tango and stays at Iceland’s Ice Hotel.”

Author Avery has been writing since she was a child and her father gave her a baby blue Brother typewriter. She couldn’t read but nonetheless wrote numerous stories about her stuffed animals in gibberish. She hasn’t stopped since, though she maintains that her spelling has gotten much better and she now prefers to write in English.

Today she’s enjoying her own happily ever after with her dashing husband, three crazy kids and two arthritic dogs. She dreams of one day having a floor-to-ceiling library à la Beauty and the Beast and is working to perfect the coffee IV drip.

http://www.averyflynn.com

http://www.evernightpublishing.com

Twitter: @averyflynn

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Extended Massive Orgasm by Steve Bodansky, Vera Bodansky

2012-01-18T06:23:00.001-05:00

Extended Massive Orgasm: How You Can Give and Receive Intense Sexual Pleasure (Positively Sexual)
by Steve Bodansky, Vera Bodansky

Couples who know how to give each other extreme intimate pleasure enjoy plenty of other benefits, including reduced stress and increased closeness. In this hands-on guide to getting it right, behavioral scientists Steve and Vera Bodansky describe how to give and receive remarkable orgasms, taking the experience of sex to a new level of enjoyment. Focusing primarily on women but addressing the needs of men as well, they cover anatomy in detail, address inhibitions and fears, suggest useful exercises, recommend the best positions, and most of all offer insightful advice for every technique covered. While the authors include emotional and psychological components of a relationship, they focus on how and where to touch a partner to produce the most pleasure. No matter how long a couple has been together, it's never too late - or too early - to greatly enhance sexual response.

Review: It took me forever to read this book, because for the most part it was information I'd read before. Don't get me wrong it was good information, and if you're a first timer looking for this type of information then by all mean check this out.
It covers how our mind's effect sex and our orgasms, positions, communication, and of course safe sex and STD's. I did find chapter 10 to be interesting. It actually talks about human heat cycles, yes just like animals we have these cycles. Although they differ from other mammals. The book actually talks about how orgasms can relieve the pain and pressure of PMS. I knew this, but unfortunately I'm so pissy around this time Hubs won't touch me. Another thing I found interesting, I'd always suspected but couldn't confirm, is women who spend time or live together have menstrual cycles together. I actually learned a lot just from that chapter alone.
If your looking for a book that covers everything then pick this one up, before looking at the others.

This product was provided to me free of charge in exchange for an unbiased review. This review is in compliance with the FTC guidelines.