Sweet N Sexy Divas

Dumber Than a Smartphone

2012-03-05T00:01:00.001-08:00

I celebrated my birthday a few days ago and decided to give myself a new cell phone. There wasn’t anything wrong with my old one, but Verizon sent me this brochure filled with glossy photos of their latest models. Like a kid looking through a Toys ‘R Us catalog, I was hooked. I don’t use my cell phone very often and when I do, it’s for making and receiving calls, or using mobile e-mail. Period. I don’t text much and I’m not on a host of social networks.

I entered the store and was immediately set upon by a guy barely out of high school, who launched into his sales pitch.

“This phone can do everything. It’ll keep you in touch with the outside world, and alert you to the latest postings from your friends on Facebook and Myspace.”

“I’m not on Spaceface or Mybook,” I said.

“Are you a twitter?”

“No, and I resent being called one.”

He pressed on. “This other app lets you watch the latest videos on YouTube.”

“How can I watch videos on my tube?”

He gave me a blank look with his mouth agape. “Okay, how about this one? It gives you the most up-to-date headlines, sports and weather.”

“Why do I need that when I can watch the evening news?”

More confused looks followed but he was nothing if not unstoppable. He took a deep breath and continued trying to sell me something I didn’t need. “The built-in camera has a gazillion mega-pixels. It’s great for capturing embarrassing pics and vids of your friends and posting them on YouTube.”

“There you go, talking about my tube again. Is this a fetish or are you trying to pick me up?”

Undaunted, he continued. “If this doesn’t have what you’re looking for, how about this nifty new I-pad?”

“Does it make and receive calls?”

“Better than that – it does e-books, wi-fi, news feeds, GPS, games, photos, e-mails, stock quotes, streams movies and TV shows…”

“Will it take my temperature when I’m feeling under the weather?”

He exhaled in exasperation. “What exactly are you looking for?”

“A portable communication device that will let me call my sig other when I’m running late for dinner, or so she can call me to find out why I’m somewhere I’m not supposed to be.”

He looked at me as though I were from Mars. “That’s it? That’s all you want it for?”

“Yeah. I believe that’s why it’s called a cell phone – not a social club/newspaper/tickertape/entertainment center/embarrass your friends with secret videos phone.”

He finally gave up and I left with a new state-of-the-art-for- now phone. I don’t know what most of the bells and whistles are for but at least I can make and receive calls. If I ever want to post embarrassing vids on my tube, I’m sure there’s an app for that.

Tim Smith is an award-winning, bestselling author whose books range from romantic thrillers to contemporary erotic romance. He is also a freelance photographer. More info about his books and photographs can be found at his website, www.timsmithauthor.com.

Do you love to read Post-Catastrophe erotic romances?

2012-03-04T00:01:00.070-08:00

If you love Post Catastrophe Erotic Romances then you’ve come to the right place today!

I have this fascination with what would life be like on Earth after a catastrophe. I don’t know why, but this intrigues me.

When I was a kid, I would imagine what I would do if the nearby nuclear plant would suddenly have a melt down and I actually survived.

As I grew older I found my excitement on this subject in the movies. Movies like the Planet of the Apes (Charlton Heston), Soylent Green (Charlton Heston), Where Have All the People Gone (Peter Graves) and Dawn of the Dead (Sarah Polly). Currently I’m fascinated by the tv series the Walking Dead. Needless to say I’ve literally had nightmares about life dealing with apes, hungry people, crazed dogs, and zombies ( yes! I actually have a work in progress with zombies).

As my fascination with the post catastrophe world evolved, it of course went into my writing. And that is what today’s post is all about. My post-catastrophe erotic romance series that I have on the go at several different publishing houses.

Outlaw Lovers series (Ellora’s Cave)

My most popular post catastrophe series is the Outlaw Lovers series (Ellora’s Cave). The plot deals with terrorists unleashing a virus amongst the women of the world. A virus that turns women into submissive beings – like the movie The Stepford Wives (Katherine Ross).

But what happens in my post-catastrophe world is the virus takes on mutations such as a deadly flu and kills most of the world’s women population. Surviving women are left with interesting versions of the X-virus. Some women fantasize on a daily basis (Tyler’s Woman), some women need to orgasm (Resistance – coming soon to EC) in order to survive, others need daily expensive meds to stay alive (Jude Outlaw). And yet other women are unaffected, hunted down by the government who wants to hold them captive like guinea pigs in order to find a lucrative vaccine (The Claiming). Sound intriguing yet?

Let’s take it a step further. How would men react if most of the surviving women were afflicted with these sexual illnesses? How would they make it fair so that more men could have one woman? That’s where the Claiming Law comes in. A Law that allows groups of men to “claim” a woman as their wife, to do with her whatever they wish. Sounds scary eh?

The Desperadoes series (Siren-Bookstrand)

Another series I have on the go is The Desperadoes (SirenBookstrand). My series picks up several years after solar flares have taken out the world’s electrical grids and disintegrated much of the world’s human population. Survivors are left in a world that’s a few degrees colder hence a harsh growing season and kind of a throwback to the cowboy days where the main transportation now are horses.

Factories, banks and civilization are pretty much history as economies have collapsed. Only the strong survive in a harsh new land. And surviving means doing pretty much anything to stay alive. Physically, sexually and mentally. Love seems to come in the most interesting ways after the Catastrophe. And a woman has to do what a woman has to do in order survive in this series and that includes falling in love with not one, not two, but three men!! Wooot! (Ember – the next Desperadoes is currently a work in progress).

I also have a couple of stories that would fall into the post-catastrophe range. Sex Outlawed! (Total E Bound) and Claiming Hannah (Ellora’s Cave).

Sex Outlawed!

Sex Outlawed! is an utopia post-catastrophe erotica. Because of pollution most of the people in the past got sick and died. The healthy were moved into plastic bubbles; self sustainable cities called biospheres. Everything is regulated and watched carefully. Your food intake, your thoughts, even what kind of job you do is dictated by the Order of Authority.

At birth everyone is embedded with a Blocker, which prevents humans from craving sex. Sex in the future is considered a bad habit and thrown into the same category as smoking, drinking or gambling! Bad, bad and not allowed. But, there are a few rebels who have discovered that tampering with their Blockers makes for a sexually fun filled day. And of course they need to experiment with this new found vice of sex.

Oh! And there’s also this one little rule – each female of each biosphere must bear one child in order to keep the human race going. Since perfection is the name of the game in the future, babies are naturally conceived by specialized Doctors – human males. Hmmm, but the Totalitarian government wants to phase out these Doctors and replace them with artificial insemination machines. Not all Doctors like this new method, hence another reason why the totalitarian government must be overthrown one day! (Sex Outlawed! The Experiment is a current work in progress and the sequel to Sex Outlawed!)

Claiming Hannah

Picture this! Futuristic world where babies are conceived by Breeders. Breeders are effectively clones with little rights. Their life mission is to serve humans and carry their children. In the future, many couples opt for Breeders, because they are too busy loving their careers. So hey! Let’s hire a Breeder couple at a Breeder farm. Couples peruse catalogs and pick their child’s parents. They’re even allowed to watch the Breeder couple perform in order to conceive the child. But hey, there are other nasty little things going on in the Breeder world. Sometimes Breeder slaves want to escape to the Free States. That’s when a Hitman is called in to either capture her or him, or kill the escapee.

Hannah in Claiming Hannah is a clone, a Breeder Slave. There’s this one little rule for Breeder Slave women. Each female Breeder Slave female is allowed to keep her first born until he or she is eighteen and then the government gets her one child, which they can either set free or turn into a Breeder Slave.

Alas! This is when a Breeding Ceremony is set up. Males (sometimes several) are allowed to have sex with the female Slave while everyone watches. The potential fathers are picked. She has no say. In Claiming Hannah, Hannah’s been told she’s ready for her Breeding Ceremony. Unfortunately, Hannah, wants nothing to do with it, so she escapes. Her owner, hires Jacob, a hitman to hunt her down and kill her. But it’s a small world and our sexy hitman knows Hannah, because his dad runs the Breeder farm where she lives. In fact, Jacob has loved her from first sight.

Suddenly he’s defying the rules of a Totalitarian government and he and Hannah are on the run for their lives. (Claiming Cara is a work in progress sequel).

Ah yes, I sure do love my post-Catastrophe stories!!

I hope you enjoyed my post today and I hope you enjoyed the little peek into my word of post-catastrophe books! If you have a favorite or more than one favorite post-catastrophe type movies or books, feel free to post them. I would love to hear what intrigues you.

Happy Reading!!

Jan Springer

http://www.janspringer.com

Too Much !!!!!

2012-03-03T01:23:00.000-08:00

When is too much money just too much?

I just got back from collecting my mail. Yes, I live in a small town where mail is not delivered and running into a friend at the post office is a happy event. I was floored by two magazines sent to me as a freebies.Gifts of the publishers who couldn’t have known how useless it is to send me such items advertising nothing but luxury items. Items that cost most than I could imagine. $35,000 for a dress. Ten thousand (at least) for shoes or purses. And I won’t even go into the prices for the casual looking jewelry.

Do people really spend that much on assembling a new outfit? With most of the world in such need it seems not only ridiculous but downright sinful. Am I crazy, or is the rest of the world? Is this one reason for the popularity of the rags to riches theme fueling so much of our literature?

Fiery Pursuit, my first venture into erotica just came out from Ellora’s Cave. I guess it’s somewhat of a rags to riches theme, as the heroine goes from slavery in harem to being the wife of a wealthy count. However, they’re people of compassion. Latest fashions are definitely not their concern. They would definitely be this upset by such examples of profligate living?

And here's my newest book, from Passion in Print, and the last of the Mage series.

"Simon couldn’t remember being so startled. Troy, his childhood playmate, at least whenever he deigned to give her his attention. Now a grown, a most delightfully grown woman. He’d never seen a female as well-endowed as Troy. Beautiful eyes, lovely wheat-colored hair, tempting full lips calling for-- no, demanding, a kiss. When he’d splashed her from head to toe, her clinging garments had revealed the most perfect figure he could imagine. Maybe he’d seen too many, but at least he could state without equivocation hers was exceptional. The very thought of joining her on his bed and stripping her of his own shirt caused an erection he could only pray she was too inexperienced to spot.
But this was Troy. Not some beauty on the London circuit to be discarded with ease. He couldn’t disgrace her. He’d swear she was that rare female, a virgin. And he was so much older than she, in more ways than just the years. His desire couldn’t be more inappropriate, or more hopeless.
He sat on the edge of the bed. Her lips were so very kissable, and he could at least reassure her of her appeal. It was insupportable she’d think any man wouldn’t want her. Leaning over her, he took her in his arms, surprised at the strength with which she clutched him to her.
One kiss to show her he recognized her as an adult. A very lovely woman.
Then he lowered his lips to hers. An instant fire flared, as he licked her lips and she started in surprise. She’d never been kissed, then, in an intimate manner. Dear god, somehow the certain knowledge this was all new to her excited him almost beyond control.
He kept the kiss hot but chaste. Then, lost in the unbelievable rapture of kissing Troy, he started to feel under his shirt for her breasts. Her little gasp woke him to what he was doing. He was well on the way to seducing his childhood friend, the cherished daughter of his extended family. He’d been about to lay her flat and enter her with little preparation. That she seemed willing was no excuse.
What the hell had come over him?"

Please comment and tell if you agree there can be too, too much.

We Writers are STRANGE creatures!

2012-03-02T07:00:00.005-08:00

Greetings. Again, this is Sharita Lira with a post about being an author and or writer since they are more synonymous that you think. Sooo, what about writing? It’s something authors love to do. We keep strange hours, writing when the house is asleep or awake depending on the members in your household. Or maybe you’re a lone ranger. Oh you’re really doomed! *grins* No one to bother you or answer to? It means you can spend a ton of time with your muses and or characters. And oh, what about those critters? Yes, the ones you talk to and think about all the time while driving. I know I do. I talk to them and discuss parts of the story I need to rewrite. Other times, you might be typing away at your desk or whatever kind of surface you use, hammering out details and you blurt out things making your SO look at you as if you sprouted three heads. Yes, I’ve done that many times. *shrugs* Hubby is used to it now but will ask, what are you talking to the muses about now?

My response? Oh just the next story I’m working on. *laughs*

You laugh aloud with them when you type something humorous. Yes, this happens a lot when me and BLMorticia get together. She really has me going on our next book, Candyman and then there’s the things that come up in your dreams. Whether it be the ones you have while you sleep or the ideas that come to you when you’re awake and again, you blurt it out, you chuckle at the restaurant table when you come up with something new.

A plot bunny! EUREKA!

You scramble for anything to write with; pen, paper, crayon, napkin, toilet paper, the back of your receipt. Your family gives you the ‘Really mom or dad’ looks that make you blush. And if that’s not available, you type it in your phone or your iPad if you carry it around with you, anything to keep it in your head. Oh and lets go back to those little fockers, the bunnies. You love when they come to you but hate when you already have like 100 er so working that you haven’t written yet. Damnit, not again! Damn muses.

Lastly, what about your muses? Mine are writing muses. My characters do speak to me from time to time but my muses control me. Sharita writes most of the blogposts but the stories I blame on the 3 muses. BL with her snark and wickedness, Rawiya with her sensual emotional pieces, and Michael with his long winded, dry humor. Yes I know them all. I’ve only been doing this for a little over a year but I finally got them down packed and I intend for it to stay that way.

So, what am I? Crazy? I’m a person with 3 muses that drive me to the point of exhaustion, I talk to my characters, have conversations about stories in my head, I take hardly no time off from tapping the keys on that laptop, and I do it all with many of my peers not understanding why or how I do this when it’s so hard to make a living, and yet I love it. What am I? An author!

Author Sharita Lira: The Triad, otherwise known as the characters in the head of Sharita Lira are three separate muses that are the driving force behind her small amount of success. Misses Lira sees her own life as one that is very ordinary, so instead of presenting herself out to the world, she created three personalities that continue to haunt her all hours of the night to get several WIP’s done at the speed of light, and push her to the brink of sheer exhaustion, but she loves it and that’s the reason she hasn’t told them to get the hell out her head.

Michael Mandrake, BLMorticia, and Rawiya collectively have written over 30 stories published in e-book and or print through 7 different publishers. Right now as it stands, Mrs. Lira and the muses have 6 sole author books with much more to come in 2012 and beyond.

She is a happily married mother of two that writes m/m, m/f, ménage, paranormals, contemporaries, and for fun some fan fiction. She is a proud member of the Erotica Readers & Writers Association, as well as an advocate for rights of LGBT citizens, and a big fan of 80′s and heavy metal music. She’s also a contributor to the heavy metal ezine Fourteeng.net.

For more information, please visit http://www.thelitriad.com as well as her Facebook fanpage, The Literary Triad.

***CONTEST comment to win Rawiya's book Time to Make the Donuts from Naughty Nights Press!

Andre, a customer, comes in and pays Christopher a visit. The two lock eyes and immediately connect on a personal level. The intensity of this deep, instant connection convinces Christopher to pursue a potential interest – to find out just what might happen between them – when Andre passes him his card and phone numbers. He wonders what the young man does for a living however, he’s so smitten by him, Chris doesn’t give it much further thought.

Little does the shop owner know, Andre actually works for his biggest competitor as a secret shopper and has been told to use any method necessary to find out the secrets of the shop. Andre is ordered to convince Christopher to sell his shop and become part of the national chain.

When Christopher finds out, he has a surprise for Andre and deals with him in a rather humorous way. Will he trust Andre once he finds out this fact? Will he give up his shop under the pressure the well-known franchise? Will this newly found romance beat the odds and move past this bump in the road to happiness for both Andre and Christopher?

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With the song Manic Monday by the Bangles playing on the overhead, Jesse stood behind the cashier Wanda, getting orders for customers while Christopher finished putting the third batch of donuts in the oven. The owner always felt better when the store officially opened for business making him forget about the lack of sleep he got from the night prior or the fact he’d been in the restaurant since two a.m.

He pushed the double doors open as he came from the kitchen, watching the customers lining up in front of the register. They were ready to give their morning rush orders of coffee and donuts or bagels. Others who had time sat at the long laminate counter waiting for one of the waitresses to take their requests. Bigger groups of people or those who liked to take in the atmosphere sat in booths to sample the diner’s finest delicacies. Part of the charm of Christopher’s place was it catered to everyone in some form or fashion while offering great service. Something he knew that other place could provide.

While waving at a couple of regulars, Christopher started to help Jesse bag a few orders. Unlike most owners, he always chipped in to help on the front lines regardless if it were busy or not.

Jesse smacked him on the shoulder. “Yo dude, you look like you haven’t sleep in weeks.” The husky redheaded woman poured a cup of coffee for a lady in front of her.

“Well thanks,” he frowned. “I’m still being bombarded by calls from that place to get me to sell. They won’t quit. Don’t they get the message?”

“Apparently not. They been callin’ ya at home?”

“No on the cell and all because that one girl that used to work here got employed by them. They thought by doing that, they’d be able to pick up some secrets or learn something new about me, or the restaurant. Didn’t they know I brainwash my former workers,” he laughed.

“You wish. You just don’t share anything important which is smart, now me on the other hand,” She cocked an eyebrow. “I could be an asset to someone if they swayed me to leave.”

Christopher stopped immediately and glared at her. “You’d never.”

She drew up her lips. Within seconds she guffawed and smacked him on the back pretty hard. “Babe, no, never. I’m just messin’ wicha. I’d never leave your side. I told you the day Jayson died I’d help you run the place till we couldn’t do it anymore and I meant it. You know I’m a rebel at heart. I couldn’t go anywhere and work for “the man” and feel comfortable. I ain’t wearin’ no suit and tie for nobody.”

Christopher choked a little from the slap and let out a small sigh of relief. He didn’t know what he’d do without Jesse if she left. Good thing she always had such a good sense of humor and because he liked her as his second in command, he vowed never to piss her off if he could help it. Yes, they’d had run-ins a couple of times over various decisions but he knew most of the time the two of them would come to an agreement in the end.

“Well I’m glad about that.” He straightened his tie and shrugged his shoulders. “I need you here, Jess. No bones about that. Most days, I’m not sure what I’d do without your intellect.”

She blushed and chuckled. “Aw, Christopher, I swear if I didn’t like women and you didn’t like men we’d be a match made in heaven, right?”

A woman with a baby in front of them giggled and took her bag.

Christopher sighed, “Jesse, we really need to stop talkin’ about our personal business up here, huh?”

“Yes, duly noted boss man. Sooo…maybe we should go in the back so I can ask you about the dude I hooked you up with last week.” She nodded and turned to him.

“Um, nothin’ really to tell. I’m sorry Jesse, he’s just not what I’m looking for.”

The manager rolled her eyes. “Just what the hell are you searchin’ for in a man, Chris? You gotta lower your standards just a little don’t you? Ain’t no pretty boy with money and a squeaky clean disposition comin’ into your life any time soon.”

“That might be true but, well, he just didn’t do it for me. I liked that he’s self-sufficient, he’s pretty burly which I, erm, well, I’m not into overly muscular men. He doesn’t have to be a model but he does have to be easy on the eyes.” Christopher paused, “Didn’t I just say I didn’t want to talk about my business up here?” He cocked an eyebrow.

“Oh sorry, let’s go in the back a moment then. I gotta hear the rest of this. Wanda, you okay hon, since the rush is about done?”

The younger blond nodded, “Yep, I’ll call ya’ if I need ya.”

“Great.” Jesse gripped Christopher’s shoulder. “To the back then chief to get another batch ready then, huh?”

“Yep. We’ll be back, Wanda.” Christopher went through the doors and Jesse followed him. He really enjoyed when he and Jesse could work and talk at once. Made the day go by a lot faster. If only he had something other than his seemingly desperate romantic situations to converse about.

My Top Five Hero Requirements

2012-03-01T00:01:00.000-08:00

Photo courtesy of Photos.com

I read romance not just to identify with the pluckyheroine but also to fall in love with the hero. Most of us read to escape intoother lives and worlds. I like to do my escaping with a hunk. Spaceship captain,investment banker, cowboy, soldier, barbarian or duke I find I enjoy them themost when they follow five basic guidelines.

1. He is physically impressive. Idon’t mean facial features though I won’t turn my nose up at a beautiful man.The first book I remember stealing, cough, I mean borrowing, at age fourteenfrom an aunt, was Julie Garwood’s ThePrize. The hero, Baron Royce, had a significant facial scar. All the heroesI wrote that year were disfigured in some way.

By physically impressive I just meanthat I like a large man. I like muscles whether they are sleek or bulky. Surehe needs to be able to lift a drink to his mouth and have a neck but other thanthat, I’m flexible (no pun intended). I sometimes watch wrestling with the muteon. I’m just saying. (I shrug here in a carefree manner.)

2. He can kick ass and frequently does. Evenif he doesn’t, he could. I am the daughter of a Marine. I rode past soldiersengaged in hot, sweaty, physical fitness on the way to the commissary duringpuberty. Enough said.

3. He has a kind and gentle side. Ilike this in a hero even if the heroine is the only one who truly gets to seeit. I like my heroes to be alphas and let’s face it, alphas can be prickssometimes. It’s good to dial down the testosterone every once in a while.

4. He’s dominant in the bedroom.Sigh. I write erotic romance. I really have closed a book or skipped over thelove scenes if they were just a bit too vanilla. I like a little bite with mysex. I don’t write the hard stuff. I’ve read comments where my work isaffectionately called intense. I subscribe to the “don’t like it, don’t look”school of romance.

5. He loves and desires the heroine aboveeverything else in his life. The hero would do anythingto keep her emotionally and physically well. He would also do anything to keepher with him. I get antsy when the hero walks away from the heroine. Even if hethinks he needs to leave, I don’t want him to actually be able to do it.

Here is an excerpt from my eBook, Enslaved in Desire, that shows some of the sexual tension betweenmy hero Venn and my heroine Camryn. It gives you a little taste of number 4.

The following excerpt is for those readerswho are 18 and over only.

He crowded her back andshe watched in the mirror. He was dressed for meetings in a black dress coat,crisp white shirt and fitted black pants. The contrast of her nude body pressedagainst his fully clothed form made her press back against him to feel thepleasure of the smooth material against her hot skin.

“I didn’t tell you tomove, sweet.” He stepped back.

She groaned. Her eyesclashed with his in the mirror.

“What’s with therestraint?” she asked.

“I know you like it when Ihold you down, but I wanted to use my hands today. And you did say it wouldtake chains to keep you in one place,” he replied.

She remained as still aspossible and he watched her for a while before moving behind her once more. Shewanted to think she would resist him, but she couldn’t. When he got like this,he wasn’t going to be put off and she liked how he handled her too much. Sheliked that he took all the passion and barbarian in himself and locked it down,only for it to emerge again once he’d made her mindless. She knew it was there,just sitting under the surface of his skin. She could see it in the way hissmile didn’t match the fire in his eyes.

He gathered her hair inone hand and wrapped it once around his hand. He pulled her head gently to theside. She curled her toes into the carpet so she wouldn’t move.

His other hand came up,but only one finger trailed her throat from her hairline to her shoulder. Hismouth followed and his cool hair swung forward and trailed over her arm andbreast. He did the same thing over and over again to the back of her neck andthen transferred her hair to his other hand and worked the same magic on theother side of her neck. He tugged harder on her hair and the pleasure shotstraight to her cunt.

He stepped beside her andleaned forward, raining kisses on her chin and neck. Then he turned her loosecompletely. She whimpered.

“Keep your eyes on yourface and body in the mirror,” he said, lacing his voice with command.

She stared into his eyes in the mirror. Then shelowered her gaze to her own face. Her eyes were slumberous. Her bottom lip wasswollen where she’d bitten it in concentration and she was flushed.

“Beautiful,” he said.

***** ***** *****

So what are your requirements in a hero or heroine? Doyou have any deal breakers? Are you attracted to one type of hero more thanothers? Leave a comment and let me know.

Stormie

Website * Blog * Twitter * Facebook

Guest post with Willa Edwards!

2012-02-29T02:00:00.000-08:00

Ultimatums : Do they work?

We’ve all had relationships in our lives that aren’t working, that have some issues in them that makes them not as fulfilling as we’d like. Whether it’s your relationship with your spouse or significant other, your boss, your parents, your siblings, it’s a part of life (if you have never experienced this, you are one of the lucky few, and I’m green with envy). Sometimes we can talk to the person were having an issue with, and try to work it out, but when the two parties are incapable of seeing eye to eye, what other choices are there to solve the problem.

When desperation hits, some people grab for the ultimatum to get what they want. Do what I say or else. Maybe (probably in a better economical time) you went into your boss’s office and said give me a raise, a promotion, better vacation days, etc… or I’m leaving. Maybe you told your brother to drive you and your friends to the movies or you’d tell mom he’s been buying dirty pay-per-view movies at night. Or maybe you told your significant other, do this or I’m gone.

Patti Stanger, the Millionaire Matchmaker, encourages ultimatums, or what she calls Me-o-matums. She says after a certain period of time, you should turn to the person you’re with and ask them if they think the relationship is going in the same direction that you do. If they don’t see the same future, the one you want, whether it be with kids, married or just happily living together, you have to leave. You have to walk away so you can find someone that will give you what you really want.

In the end an ultimatum is a threat. An act of desperation. Some psychologist even claim that it’s the result of poor self-esteem, since you might be giving someone another chance to hurt you just so you don’t have to leave them (This is especially true in a relationship, but could be true in a job or with family. You’re definitely giving them the opportunity to fail you again, but you don’t have as much freedom to leave your family, or your job these days).

The only way an ultimatum works is if you follow through on that threat. If you’re willing to leave if the boss doesn’t give you what you want, or you’re willing to walk away if you spouse starts drinking again. And that is the reason so few ultimatums actually work, because following through on the threat is the hardest part. We don’t want to have to walk away from our loved ones, if we did, we’d just do that in the first place.

In my mind, ultimatums are never the solution. If the ultimatum is used in a relationship it shows a genuine breakdown of the communication between the two people (or the lack of it from the very start) and an inability to compromise, which is the basis of any good relationship. In a relationship you should be able to have an honest conversation about what you want and find some common ground. The same can be said for business associations, you should be able to have honest and straightforward conversations with your boss, or your clients, to improve situations or at least know the likelihood of certain goals being met (such as raises and promotions). If those are not to your liking then move on. Don’t threaten too, just do it, they always have the option of giving you what you want before you walk out the door. More than likely you won’t call in sick for your last two weeks.

While walking away might be the answer to some issues, I don’t think threats are ever the way to get what you want in the long run. You might get it for a short time, but it will always come back to haunt you later on. But what do you guys think? Do ultimatums work? Have you ever had one work out in your life? Or have you used one to disaster? I’d love to know.

In my newest release, Heart’s Ultimatum, Krista wants more from her boyfriend James. She wants love, commitment, marriage, and babies. And since he’s not getting it done, she knows what she has to do. Give him an ultimatum. He either steps up, or she leaves. But leaving isn’t so easy, especially when all she wants is to be with James. Here’s a little snippet from Heart’s Ultimatum to whet your appetite.

Blurb

Krista Matthews has been in love with James for two years, but he's never mentioned commitment. After she plans him the ultimate naughty Valentine’s Day surprise, and he doesn't say those three magical words, she know it’s time to move on. She may be plushy and curvy, but she still deserves someone who loves her for all she is.

Wounded by the past, James Peterson became principal at a new school to escape his mistakes. What he never anticipated was meeting someone as amazing as Krista. She fits him in every way—except her need for a ring. When she dishes out a Valentine's Day ultimatum, give her more or end their relationship, all those old fears come racing back. Does James have the courage to face his past for the woman he loves? Or will he lose her on principal?

Adult Excerpt

The moist tip of his cock rubbed along the sensitive engorged lips of her pussy, stealing all her worries with its tantalizing brush. He teased and tortured her with his slow, methodical movements.

“I could never want anyone the way I want you.” His voice was low, primal, demanding, and her body surged with life from his rough words. If only he could say words of love instead of lust they could do this until they both were too old and gray to care who saw them.

Krista bit her lip so hard she tasted the metallic tang of blood on her tongue, but she didn’t care. She’d bite through her arm if it prevented her from screaming out, from begging James to slam into her hard and fast. She’d do anything to prevent herself from telling him again those words she desperately wanted to hear from his lips.

But she didn’t have to beg. It was only moments before James positioned himself against her slick cunt and slammed deep inside her. He plunged into her, so fast and hard it hurt a little, but it felt so damn good Krista feared she might pass out. He was so thick and hot and hard inside her, it overwhelmed all her other senses.

Krista leaned her forehead against the cool Formica countertop, needing to ground herself in the moment. Feeling too much like a hot air balloon filled with all the love she felt for James, the pleasure he gave her clouded her mind until she forgot the rest of the world. Her entire being focused on his cock buried deep inside her. His arms wrapped around her, right where they were supposed to be. Her insecurities floated away like smoke from a candle flame.

“How can you give this up, Kris?” he groaned into her ear as he pulled out of her and slammed back in.

She wanted to argue with him. She wanted to scream at him she wasn’t the one giving up anything. He’s the one who’d thrown in the lingerie, who’d sacrificed everything they had. But his demanding, dizzying rhythm stole her breath and her wits. She gripped the edge of the counter as his speed multiplied, his body slamming into her so hard, as if he wanted to imprint the memory on her mind, or his, with the physical act.

“What’s so important you’re willing to deprive us both of all this?” James bent his knees and slammed into her higher, harder, and Krista couldn’t fight the scream that escaped from her lips.

James leaned over her, pressing his chest to her back. His warm, sweaty body brought every nerve along her spine to life. His soft breath ruffled the hair at her nape. He threaded his fingers together with hers on the opposite edge of the counter while continuing to thrust into her, deep, demanding.

Krista let out a whimper as her eyes blurred with tears. Pleasure rolled through her, not just from the overwhelming ecstasy of each dig of his thick cock, but the sweet sensation of his fingers infolded with hers, his forehead resting against her shoulder blades.

“Tell me what’s so important you’re willing to give all this up.” He nuzzled her neck. He brushed kisses along her crown, throat, and shoulder as he continued to pump into her. His unshaven jaw scraped across her back, sending pinpricks of electricity through her entire system.

Shaking her head, Krista focused on the beige countertop, afraid of what’s she’d see or feel if she looked anywhere else. Arching her hips backward, Krista thrust toward him, needing to feel as much of a connection with James as possible. Their bodies moved against each other, with each other, until she could barely breathe.

“Tell me, Kris,” he demanded, pounding into her mercilessly. He slammed into her hard, hitting that spot deep inside that made her entire body quiver and melt. “Tell me why you left. Tell me why you’re doing this.”

Krista clenched her jaw tight to prevent the moan that burned her throat from escaping and to stop the chattering of her jaw as it shook with the rest of her body. She couldn’t tell him. She couldn’t ask him to say those three words. If she did, she’d never really know if he meant it or only said the words to end a fight. She couldn’t live with that doubt. She needed to know he loved her.

Buy Link: http://www.bookstrand.com/hearts-ultimatum

Find me Online: www.willaedwards.com

Or my Blog: www.willaedwards.com/blog

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Why do we Read?

2012-02-28T00:01:00.006-08:00

Hey everyone! I'm Charlene Lokey w/a Charlene Roberts and I'm a new member author here at SSND.

A little bit about myself - I live in Toronto, Canada. My mom's retired and lives with me, I'm currently single (and enjoying it!) And trying my best to find another job in my current admin field, or just tossing it all in and doing something completely different. Freelance writing and editing is looking better and better.

Tell me, what compels us to read?

I know that I like a fantastic story. But why read it, when I could probably find its equivalent in a movie, documentary or TV series? It's hard to explain, but I love the feel of a book in my hands. I like knowing that I can open it at any time. And there's something more complex, more layered in a book. Granted, there are shows out there that do have elements and layers of sophistication, but a book is different.

Why? I don't know.

Not the answer I even suspected! Maybe it's knowing how much work the author put into their story. Or how a story can drag me in and not let go until I read that last word. Or how the story's description is so vivid I want to live there.

I also read because I like to spend a few hours away from the the real world--curled up on the couch, a cup of tea or hot chocolate at hand, my cat at my feet and all electronics turned off. Reading allows us the opportunity to "get away from it all"--a chance to recharge and renew ourselves in comfortable silence.

What do I read, you ask? Besides romance, I love fantasy and sci-fi myself--alternate worlds, different civilizations, the perfection of elves! I'm currently reading Cast in Silence by Michelle Sagara from her Chronicles in Elantra series. The description of her alternate world is so detailed, I'm surprised we don't have anything like that now! I'm on book 4 and I think there are 8 books so far in the series which I will get to at some point.

Horror stories are good too, but I tend to frighten myself to the point where I can't get to sleep! :( If a horror book can do that, then it was a darn good read!

As romance authors, what other genres do you enjoy reading? Also, has it broadened your view with regards to your writing?

I look forward to talking to all of you about writing and reading!

A rose by any other name...is The Voice

2012-02-27T00:02:00.075-08:00

East Door: Killing of the First Born Sons

Nope. Not talking about the show. But the most memorable quality to any fiction. (Actually non-fiction, too, but we're focused on fiction here.)
I just finished reading my wonderful set of Rita entries for this year. And what can I tell you about the ones I have read and judged in the past 6 weeks?
Not the characters, save one, whose antics frankly irritated me by the end more than thrilled me.
Not the plots, save two, which were so very unique I smiled as I read and still do, weeks later.

West Door: Peter's Denial in the Garden

What sticks with me most are the authors' voices.
Voice, that indefinable "something" that editors go into raptures over. Voice, that sparkling-vibrant-uniquely can't-do-without quality that

makes a book memorable.

This lot I read this year had copious, delicious heaps and heaps of voice.
And yet what precisely defines Voice? Could I put my finger on it?
Ah.
Voice. That essence of prose that lifts it above the ordinary.
That quality of rhetoric that distinguishes the work from others in its genre, period and peers.
That certain something that matches the mood of the work to the characters' conflicts and the plots twists and turns.

West Door: Judas's Kiss

That element that makes the reader smile or frown or gasp. And through it all, that quality that compels the reader to have more, more, more by god! before dinner must be prepped, or the dog walked, or the bedroom beckons with the demand that you must sleep now or you cannot make it up when that darned alarm goes off!
We can speak of it with eloquence when we talk about the works of visual artists. Leonardo. Van Gogh. Picasso. Antoni Gaudi. Mies van der Rohe.
Voice. Like Jane Austen's. Daphne du Maurier's. Elmore Leonard's. Jacqueline Winspear's.
Voice. It is what I strive for. It is why I look at every sentence. Why I go with a flow. How I edit myself.
What is your definition of voice?
Which voices do you like? What are the works that represent that author best?
Do note the above photos: These are my pictures of La Sagrada Familia, the Sacred Family Basilica in Barcelona, Spain designed by Antoni Gaudi, which years after his death is still under construction. His more classical representations on the East Door of the Nativity are as much a part of his Voice as the one's on the West Door, commonly known as the Door of Death. Here you can see the stark, harsh modern representation of Judas Kissing Christ, and the lonely and despairing Peter who has just Denied Christ in the Garden. All, to me, are stunningly beautiful evocations of Gaudi's voice.

TEN THINGS YOU DIDN'T KNOW ABOUT ME

2012-02-26T01:00:00.001-08:00

Oh,this is so embarrassing. But really, I figured, since I am the new girl on the Sweet n Sexy blog, that I really should let you know a bit more about me.
I think I’ve already told you I live in New Zealand.
So here goes.

1. We’ve just moved house – 1st time in 24 years – do you know you start off with one dinner set and 24 years later you have at least 4! Scary how they breed! Anyway, we’ve just moved to the country, not far from the beach where we were, but now we’re on 10 acres of lovely private bush.

2. I have had three artificial hip replacements on the same leg. I had my first one at the age of 16 – in fact at the time (and yes it was a long time ago) I was the youngest in New Zealand to ever have a hip replacement (16 years and 1 month old). Hip number 3 is going well – and long may it last.

3 I’m passionate about interior design, and secretly would read a design mag before I pick up a book – I know completely and utterly sacrilege. I studied through correspondence years ago and have qualities as an interior designer, but writing got in the way! These days I’m addicted to DIY decorating blogs!

4. I’m sadly height restricted. Yes. I’m short. I always say I’m five foot 2, but recently when I had to go to hospital they measured me and I’ve SHRUNK. I mean for someone who is height challenged, that is so not fair. But I keep telling myself that nice things come in small packages, just wish that meant skinny too.

5. I’m the mother of 2 daughters adopted from Russia in 1996 and traveled their, staying in a small Russian town for 5 weeks while paperwork went through before I brought my new family home. Yesterday, my eldest just got engaged. How cool is that.

6. This year I decided I wanted to cook better meals. I mean I can cook okay, but wanted to improve my repertoire. So each new dish gets rated out of ten by the family. So far my curry has hit 9 on the scale! Still on my list to cook are a Pavlova, a Christmas fruitcake and a sponge cake. I’d also like to do some recipes with fish.

7. I saw one of my heroes once. In my book HE’S THE ONE, the hero walked into a café I was at with a couple of fellow authors. I just about fell off my seat. He even drove the same Mustang I described in the book. But did he stop and talk – nope – this hunk just sauntered on by without a look in my direction.

8. I’ve lived in England, Israel, and Canada, though I was born in New Zealand. I love to travel. Next year hubby and I are hoping to drive route 66 in the USA as we’re mad keen (read that as he is) on old cars.

9. And talking of hubby, I’m proud to say we met on a blind date, married eleven months later and this year we celebrate our 29th wedding anniversary.

10. Now the last of these awesome facts about moi that you did not know should be the most uber-awesome. I’m wracking my brains for something so weird/wonderful/fascinating to tell you all…. Um…..Oh I know… much to my children’s embarrassment (when they were younger) sometimes when they came home from school the stereo was blasting the Beatles or the Beach Boys and I was boogieing up a storm. I can rock with the best of them LOL. Okay, I’m a tad slower now as I’m aging but… heck, you can’t keep a good chick down.

Here’s an excerpt from HE’S THE ONE

Then he kissed her.
Taylor gasped and inhaled his scent. Pure sex. Pure male. It almost sent her over the edge, to a place she hadn’t known about. Till now.
She kissed him back.
He teased her mouth, grazing her bottom lip with the scrape of his teeth and, once again, Taylor began to drown.
“You can’t bury yourself in your fantasy weddings, Taylor.” His voice almost purred against her cheek.
But Taylor’s brain had shut down to everything but the taste of him and the aching need that swelled deep inside her.
“This is our fantasy. Is this what you want?” he asked.
Definitely. But she didn’t say so. She couldn’t admit it. Not out loud. Not even to herself, really. She pulled away and grappled for oxygen. She needed to breathe. But, oh, how she needed Cade’s kiss to go on forever.
Nothing is forever.
With shaking fingers, she battled for control, fumbling in her purse. She refused to look at the condoms. “Here’s my card. If you…”
“I haven’t changed my mind.” He looked at her, dark eyes earnest. “It’s still yes.”
The card slipped from her fingers. “It is?”
“Uh-huh. So what’s next?”
“I don’t know.”
“It’s your call. You’re the boss. Or did you think you’d just jump my bones and get it over with tonight?”
Taylor swallowed her embarrassment. Yes, that was exactly what she’d thought. Businesslike. Organized. Get it over with and get on with life.
He lifted her hand, turning it over as if trying to read her palm. He smiled—slow and sweet. It made her want to reach up and trace his mouth, to feel his smile.
“Sorry, no can do.”
“Why not?” God, did she actually ask that?
“Because, call me old fashioned, but I think we need to take it slow, let it smolder, heat up and get us in the mood. Making love isn’t ‘wham bam thank you ma’am’. It’s an art form.”
Mood? An art form? Lord. She was in the mood now. One kiss and her body burned for him. She had to get out of here before she did exactly what he said and jumped his bones.
“Well, thank you for being a…gentleman.”
“No problem. When would you like to meet again?”
How about ten minutes time, her subconscious offered.
“Um…maybe tomorrow. I’ve got to check my diary.”
“Of course. Business before pleasure.”
Taylor’s head jerked up. She caught Cade’s amused grin. Those dimples sure were a temptation.
“Business is what pays the bills.”
“And love is what the makes the world go ’round, or so they say.”
“This isn’t about love.”
Cade’s grin slipped. “No, it’s not. It’s about giving you some experience. Don’t worry. I’ll phone you.”
Taylor realized she’d been summarily dismissed. Thrusting open the car door, she jackknifed out as fast as her trembling legs allowed and, although she bent down to say thanks, Cade didn’t give her time. He gunned his hot car and, with a squeal of tires, sped off into the night.
“Just like a knight in shining armor,” Taylor murmured as she watched the retreating vehicle.
Trouble was, she wasn’t sure she could handle being rescued by Mr. Harper.

Happy reading everyone
Jane Beckenham
www.janebeckenham.com

Novel Inspirations

2012-02-25T06:33:00.000-08:00

I’m not sure where plotters get their inspirations. During a recent conversation with a plotter, she said she thinks in terms of umbrella themes and plots that then lead her to characters, their goals and their conflicts—both internal and external.

Just thinking about all that mental labor makes me tired. But it certainly accounts for that author’s depth of character and intricate storylines.

As for pantser me:

Many of my story inspirations begin in bed. Not because I’m an erotic fantasy writer doing research… When making love, I ‘m totally in the moment.

My subconscious self, however, may have conjured two people arguing at the top of their lungs. That argument may provide their external conflict and may also be part of their own internal issues. Either conflict may or may not have led to the argument. At this point, I haven’t a clue. I just have these characters who need to resolve their issues—whatever they may be.

News stories or magazine articles sometimes inspire stories. A romantic suspense I’m still noodling on raises its hand and beckons with enticing, bejeweled fingers every presidential election year. Another romantic suspense that I’ve written and sold came from an article about emerald mining in Colombia. It Takes a Thief came out of that article. I’m hoping to see it release from Ellora’s Cave (EC) in 2012.

Sometimes another author’s work inspires me. I’m not talking about plagiarism, but something more like a spin-off. Mary Stewart’s Arthurian Quartet (The Crystal Cave, The Hollow Hills, etc.) not only left me awestruck but reluctant to let go of the magic. Whether hers or Merlin’s I can’t say.

Anyway, those books led me to write a Regency and a Victorian sequel sort of rooted in those Arthurian legends. Both sucked. But someday I may resurrect them as erotic fantasies.

My first erotic novel and first ever sale was inspired by a short story by Charlotte Boyett-Campo titled The Windsday Club. Only two chapters long, it made me hot. It made me laugh. It made me wonder if I could write something that funny, that sexually arousing.

Apparently I could. Ellora’s Cave (EC) bought Passion’s Four Towers (PFT) and the rest, as they say, is history.

Your own work can inspire you. For example, I set myself up to write a sequel to Passion’s Four Towers—maybe even more than a couple of sequels. But when I finished I had a problem. Two of my secondary heroes had let themselves be led into sexual satiation. Which meant my sequel went into the toilet.

Lucky for me, my heroines’ dead mother rescued me. Kerrie dragged her ghostly chains, wailed like a banshee and in general made herself a pain in the… She kept at me until I wrote Kerrie’s Quest for Passion (KQ). That filled my time until Gerard and Edgar had recovered enough to take their heroic roles in Passion’s Twins (PT).

And then, due to circumstances beyond my control…

Between writing KQ’s and PT, Angela Lansbury’s Murder, She Wrote caught me in the what if of virtual reality. Sexy Hercules star Kevin Sorbo played a VR designer accused of murder. The crime aspect didn’t inspire me, but the VR did.

That’s when I set out to become the Sue Grafton of erotic fantasies. Since every series needs a foundation story, I wrote His Virtual Virgin, followed by a sojourn I’m still taking through the alphabet. I’m up to G—His Virtual Gift—which released February 15, 2012 from eXtasy Books.

Your publisher may also inspire you to write a themed story. EC did and I wrote four short stories/novellas around food and the arts. EC didn’t buy one of them, but eXtasy Books contracted for all four. In fact, I now have a series called Sensuous Seasonings.

Chapter members may also inspire stories. I have almost total recall of hooking up with SVR members at the Denver RWA national convention in 2000. We were talking about what we were writing and I described a plot I was noodling on and our own resident humorist, Judy Ashley said, “Oh, so you’re writing Saving Ryan’s Privates—which became my first sale to eXtasy Books.

Sometimes there’s just something in the air. How often have you seen stories by different authors that have the same core theme? Over the fifteen plus years I pursued becoming published, I’ve encountered this phenomena a lot. I don’t know if Laurel K. Hamilton got her inspiration for Jean-Claude from Anne Rice, but it’s easy to think that’s what inspired her vampire stories. And Shanna Abe’s magical, marvelous Drakons could certainly have inspired shape-shifting dragons.

Obviously, I’m a fan of all these talented authors.

Faces. I based a couple of my heroines on a little girl with reddish-blonde hair and sea-foam green eyes I saw on a cruise up the Sacramento River. A craggy-featured old man missing some teeth might inspire my next excursion into VR.

All this is by way of saying inspiration can come from anywhere. You just need to listen and look.

Dee Brice

Erotic Fantasies Where Nothing is Forbidden

SWEAT EQUITY and a VERY HOT Man Love Moment

2012-02-24T02:00:00.000-08:00

REPEATING THE BLOGGER WARNING HERE: THE FOLLOWING IS NOT MEANT FOR ANYONE UNDER 18 OR ANYONE IN ANY WAY OFFENDED BY LOVE SCENES BETWEEN MEN. JUST STOP READING NOW...MOVE ALONG. otherwise.....allow me to introduce you to
Blake and Rob....

But FIRST... I'm just too excited NOT to share....
My series "THE REALTORS" which began with Floor Time continues this week.
SWEAT EQUITY is the 2nd in the trilogy and so far, the series is getting rave reviews.
Here are a few, excerpted.

Hesperia Loves Books:

What is it then – it’s raw, emotional, strong, confusing (to them at least), heart-wrenching and completely FANTASTIC! Their love & sex burn the pages and make me want that fabulous ending, since their road has been so tough, I have to know the rest of their journey and what the future holds for them.

Link: http://www.hesperialovesbooks.com/2012/02/03/review-floor-time-by-liz-crowe/

Melissa @ Sizzling Hot Reviews:

Floor Time is a sexy thrilling ride of passion and real estate. When Jack and Sara come together, they combust. It doesn’t matter where they are or who is around them, they can’t keep their hands off each other. As they explore their cravings, they experiment with a little BDSM and Dom/Sub during their love making. The scene at the open house will leave you breathless.

Link: http://www.sizzlinghotbooks.net/2012/02/floor-time-by-liz-crowe.html?zx=345d65c78fb158b6

Harlie Reader:

If you are looking for a sweet story, this is not for you. You will read one of the most gut wrenching, emotional, off the wall sexy and utterly exceptional stories that will leave you wanting to read more about Jack and Sarah and the road that they take with each other. The beginning of their journey together is one of the most emotional filled stories that I have read in a long time. I look forward to reading about their journey together soon.

Link: http://harliebooks.blogspot.com/2012/02/floor-time-by-liz-crowe-review-giveaway.html

MyBookAddiction Reviews (from a REALTOR reader):

The secondary characters are well written and add to the story. Crowe’s descriptions of the life of an active REALTOR are spot on although I’ve never had the kind of fun selling houses that her characters do! I’m really looking forward to the next two books in the series because Jack and Sara still have a lot to work out!

Link: http://mybookaddictionreviews.wordpress.com/2012/02/14/floor-time-the-realtors-by-liz-crowe-review/

In honor of the release of Sweat Equity I am giving all you Sweet And Sexies a HOT EXCERPT....My heroine, Sara Jane Thornton has a brother Blake. Blake is her touchstone, her advisor, the guy she turns to for most everything including the food he and his lover, Rob cook for her.

Rob and Blake own a brew pub, The Local, the hottest thing in gastro-pub concepts in South East Michigan. But Rob is aggravated with Blake. He's getting way too involved in Sara's issues with Jack. AND he is still having a tough time letting go of his last lover, a beautiful woman named Suzanne who owns a brewery across town.....leading us to this moment (WARNING: GRAPHIC M/M SEX DESCRIPTIONS. please do not read any further if you are offended by this sort of thing. Otherwise, get a glass of cold water....)

Noting the late hour, Blake realized he ought to be tired, should have be exhausted really, having been up at five a.m. for a punishing workout, after which he spent two stressful hours across from a lender on a task he was foisting on his partner. Trying to prove his worth, needing to see his products on store shelves and not just in the restaurant. Something else Rob was most likely correct about—but Blake refused to acknowledge it. Then he'd proceeded on to his usual ten hours of brewery work. But his skin crawled as if covered in ants. His brain hummed with a strange energy and his hands shook as he held a clipboard and tried to focus on the graphs indicating temperature changes in the fermenter in front of him.

“Fuck!” The board made a satisfying clatter against the wall where he heaved it, splitting apart and sending chunks of metal and molded plastic flying across the room. He put his hands against the cool stainless steel. Closing his burning eyes he pictured her, her deep red hair, infectious smile, the woman who’d given him a chance as a brewer, taken his heart in her hands and then squashed it like a fucking bug.

“Calm down.” Rob’s voice in his ear, the sudden sensation of the man’s body pressed against his back made him nearly leap out of his skin. “Shhh…It’s okay. You’re gonna give yourself an aneurism. Then I’d have to kill you.” Blake took a deep breath as Rob put his hands over the ones he had pressed against the fermenter, threading long fingers through his. His lover’s lips at his ear, then his neck brought his cock to immediate attention, making him groan with the pain of keeping it trapped behind his zipper. A need so strong roared up from the soles of his feet, making the room darken, then get suddenly bright.

“I need you,” he could barely hear his own voice. “Please, Rob.”

“I know,” the other man soothed, keeping his lips against Blake’s skin. Blake leaned his head against Rob's shoulder, arched his back and pressed his body even closer against his partner's. Rob released one hand, keeping the other one tightly clasped in Blake’s, still pressed against the cold metal of the brewing vessel. Blake sighed as his lover stroked his rock hard shaft through his jeans, ran his hand down Blake’s thigh and back up, cupping his need, never stopping the trail of kisses down his neck.

“Are we alone in here?” Rob’s voice was breathy, rough with lust. Blake nodded. “Cause I’m gonna fuck you baby. You want that? I know I do.” Blake felt his chest loosen, sensed his own pure need for everything about the man touching him pour through his psyche.

“I love you.” He whispered, as Rob unzipped him, releasing his already weeping cock to the cool air. “Oh God,” he groaned as the man passed a hand up and down his length, over the aching head of him.

“I love you too.” Rob’s voice anchored him, held him to the earth. Blake’s natural tendency to lose control, the side of him he held tight around Sara so he could be what she needed from him, he’d only shown to two people. The woman who’d broken his heart and the man now gripping his jaw, turning his face around so their lips could meet.

Blake turned all the way around, needing the full contact, wanting to put his arms around his tall blond lover. Rob pressed into him, keeping his hand on Blake’s cock, shoved his tongue between his lips, sweeping into his mouth like he owned it. Their groans filled the room, as Blake threaded his fingers through Rob’s thick hair and the other man increased his speed, using Blake’s own fluid as the perfect lubricant. He broke away, staring deep into Blake’s soul. “Let her go.” He demanded. Blake nodded, more than a little confused as to who Rob meant until he realized he meant both of them. Let his sister live her life. Let go, once and for all, of the redheaded brewery owner who’d nearly killed him.

“Okay. I promise.” He sighed as Rob turned him back around. And he would. Anything to keep this man in his life.

“Huh, not likely.” Rob eased his jeans down and Blake stepped out of them, planning his feet apart, his hands back on the stainless steel vessel in front of him. “I know you Blake Thornton. Better than anyone. I know how your mind works.” Blake felt the other man’s thick shaft against his ass, his strong hands gripping his shoulders, trailing down to his waist and hips. “But it’s okay.” His voice dipped lower as he positioned himself behind Blake.

Blake groaned as his lover touched a cum slickened fingertip against his ass, pressing in, breaching the tight ring of muscles. “Let go Blake. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere. Because I know you. And I still love you.” He shoved in deeper bringing a loud grown to Blake’s lips, making him arch his back, offer himself to the man. Rob shoved his tee shirt up, pressed lips to his back, licked up to his neck, then bit down hard as he pulled out his finger and pressed his cock into Blake’s body with a hiss and a soft moan. “Oh God. You feel so good.”

Blake braced himself, letting his body accept his lover’s invasion, going beyond the pain and reaching the extreme pleasure as Rob’s long cock reached deep, caressing his gland. His own cock jerked, leaked more and he closed his eyes, trying to do what Rob said—trying to let go, to fall and let someone catch him. The smell of their mutual lust swirled around him, the feel of his man’s body against and inside his and his own deep need for it all made him gasp. When Rob gripped his hips and eased out and back in he grabbed his own cock with one hand, keeping himself braced against the vessel with the other.

“Harder,” he grunted. “I know you want to. Take me like you want.” Rob groaned, dug his fingers into Blake’s hips and pounded into him. He felt the other man’s intensity, his need to prove something and he pressed back, pumping his fist against his own cock as the orgasm gripped him, deep and Rob’s cock pressed up against his prostate, making him cry out and cover his hand and belly with his own fluid. His body jerked and his brain continued to buzz when he felt Rob change his angle and the speed of his thrusts. With a grunt, Rob released inside him.

“Dear God, what you do to me,” Rob draped across Blake’s back, wrapped strong arms around his waist, keeping their bodies joined. Blake reached back and laced his fingers through his lover’s hair as his own body calmed, finally after the last two days of sheer stress. “I’m sorry.” Blake felt tears prick the back of his eyes.

“No.” He stood, wincing slightly as Rob’s cock slipped out of his ass. “You have no reason to be.” He pulled his jeans up, wiped his hand on a nearby towel and turned, smiling, watching as his lover caught his breath, hands on hips. He tugged the other man’s jeans back up, then held his face between his hands. “I’m sorry. You are the best thing that ever happened to me. And you’re right.”

Rob raised an eyebrow, but returned his kiss, his lips firm and blessedly reassuring to Blake’s orgasm fuzzy brain. “Hold on, let me get that on tape.”

Blake pulled away, started to speak but Rob put a hand over his mouth. “No talking. Let’s go home.” He brushed Blake’s lips once more then draped his arm over his shoulders and guided him out of the brewery.

Buy Floor Time:
http://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-floortime-675855-144.html
then
Buy Sweat Equity:

Finding My Writing "Voice"

2012-02-23T05:00:00.000-08:00

Finding our "voice" in writing is a process. I struggled for the last two years to figure this out. Would it be an extension of my personality? Or would it be a part of me that would only come out in my fiction? I kept hearing "write what you know" and still struggled. One day an idea popped in my head. I thought about the small newspaper I interned at when I was in college and the people I met that summer. Characters started popping into my head based on people I'd met over the years. I grabbed a notebook and started jotting down ideas. Next thing I knew I had an entire town of characters "talking" to me. I started a blog with posts from my new characters to help me flesh out the characters while I was writing the stories. It turns out finding my "voice" and "writing what I know" meant remembering an experience from over 30 years ago when I was a young college kid on her internship. Who knew?

Below is one I thought I'd share today to give you all a glimpse into New Harvest, Michigan. This is written by Dotty, the owner of the Full Moon Cafe.

I've been cooking for the cafe since I was 15 years old, and helping my daddy out in the kitchen. I learned the basics from him: fried chicken, meatloaf, roast beef and all the diner food folks came to expect from our cafe. I was always trying to convince him to let me try new dishes, but he'd say "Dotty, our customers don't need any new fangled food. They like our menu just the way it is. They count on it." Daddy was nothing if not steadfast and reliable.

One year I talked him into letting me make a special dessert for Valentine's Day. I was 16, and it was called "Orange Kiss Me Cake". I made up a sign for the window, and had baked it at home several times earlier in the month, which is how I had convinced Daddy to let me make it for the cafe. I remember that day clearly for so many reasons. The lunch crowd had bought out the first cake, and I had just put out the second cake. I looked up and saw a young man walk in the cafe. He was six foot tall with sandy brown hair, and looked like a young Steve McQueen. He sat down at a table near the door just as I headed his way. I asked what I could get him, and he said in a slow Southern drawl:

"Darlin', I have to try a piece of the Orange Kiss Me Cake."

He hit me with a smile that made my knees buckle. Turns out his name was Ben, and he'd just moved to New Harvest from Alabama. I've made him the Orange Kiss Me Cake for 49 years now, and every time he gives me that smile it still weakens my knees. He waited two years to propose to me, sitting at the same table he sat at that first day. Turns out my daddy had threatened to ruin his pretty smile if he didn't wait to ask me until I was 18. It's okay, he was worth the wait.

I thought you all might like to bake the Orange Kiss Me Cake for someone you love. I remember cutting the recipe out of a newspaper all those years ago, but it's not exact. I changed it slightly and frost it with whatever frosting or glaze catches my fancy each year.

Orange Kiss Me Cake

Ingredients:
2 cups all purpose flour, sifted
1 tsp. baking soda
1 tsp. salt
1/2 cup shortening
1 cup sugar
2 large eggs
1 large orange
1 cup milk

Using a grater, carefully zest the orange all around. Set aside. Sift together flour, soda and salt. Cream the shortening and sugar. Blend in the eggs one at a time. Add the orange zest. Add the milk, alternating with the dry ingredients, using an electric mixer. Pour into greased 9x13 pan. Bake in a 350 degree F. oven for 30-35 minutes. Cool.

This cake can be frosted with a cream cheese or buttercream frosting.

~Dotty

Brenda Hyde has been a freelance writer of home and garden articles for over 20 years, and now she's working on a series of cozy mysteries while blogging about her characters in the fictional town of New Harvest, Michigan. Visit her at http://harvestmoongazette.blogspot.com/

I Love Books (In Every Format!)

2012-02-22T02:00:00.000-08:00

I have been an e-published author for six years—before traditional publishers adopted electronic formats and considered them “real books.” Year by year, I’ve enjoyed watching my readership grow along with the popularity of e-readers. Every time I hear that another million Kindles, Nooks, or iPads have been sold, I cheer. The adage, ‘everything that’s old is new again’ holds true for e-published authors waiting to be discovered.

I also cheered when Books A Million moved into my local mall, renting the space Borders once occupied. To me, browsing though a bookstore and leafing through its titles is one of life’s greatest pleasures. Add a hot cup of coffee to the experience and I’ve described the perfect day. Though I love my e-reader, I love physical books, too. I’ll keep buying paperbacks until the day they disappear from the earth. Honestly, I hope that day never comes. I love having choices. E-book or paperback. I want both.

I’m thrilled that my trade paperback release REV ME from Ellora’s Cave has offered the physical book some readers prefer. REV ME contains my full-length contemporary erotic novel REV ME UP and its stand-alone sequel REV ME TWICE sold until now only in e-book format. Having my books sold in both trade paperback and e-format is a dream come true.

How about you? Do you still enjoy reading physical books, or have you gone strictly electronic? Do you want both?

REV ME by Adele Dubois (trade paperback)
http://www.jasminejade.com/p-9910-rev-me.aspx

Night Owl Reviews Top Pick! Five Hearts!
Harlie’s Book Blog Recommended Read! Five Harlies!

REV ME UP (e-book)

Lisa has always been a Good Girl. When she flashes her breasts at the hunk riding by on his Harley, her wild impulse seems like harmless fun. How could she know he’d hit the curb and land at her feet? To make amends with the cop from Santa Fe, Lisa agrees to a cocktail with him. When she slides on the bike and wraps her arms around Antonio’s buff body, they take off on the ultimate ride.

Antonio’s in town for his brother’s graduation before heading to FBI training. Lisa’s there to break up with her cheating midshipman boyfriend. Revenge sex with a hot cop may be the perfect way to unleash her inner Bad Girl. But can she keep her feelings casual?

With sexy Antonio by her side and the lust blazing between them, this Bad Girl may have a chance to have it all. As long as an ex-boyfriend out for revenge doesn’t destroy her new happiness.

Buy! REV ME UP: http://www.jasminejade.com/p-7639-rev-me-up.aspx

REV ME TWICE (e-book)

Crystal is a bad, bad girl in the most delicious ways. She tries to be good and is tempted to commit to her Navy MP boyfriend, Tomas, but has no experience with an exclusive relationship or healthy family structure. She likes her life as a stripping weathergirl and sex-party host, and resists conforming to the traditional lifestyle Tomas craves. Without her weekly ménages and wild orgies, can she become the partner Tomas wants?

When Crystal receives death threats, a media frenzy erupts. Tomas spirits her away in an effort to protect her, but a deadly crash changes everything. Faced with the choice between self-interest and self-sacrifice, Crystal must decide if she’ll embrace a new life with Tomas, or walk away.

Buy! REV ME TWICE: http://www.jasminejade.com/p-8865-rev-me-twice.aspx

Sweet N Sexy Soulful Quotes

2012-02-21T00:01:00.000-08:00

Hello everyone and welcome to another addition of Soulful Quotes. Today, I have several great stories I think you will like for this month's feature. Each one of these authors has a book or novella in an anthology centered around the romantic holiday of Valentine's Day.

The books I feature today are from authors who were not afraid to be soulful, sappy, and/or suggestive when it came to their heroes. So, grab a seat, and pick up a pen and paper so you can add these to your TBR list.

Happy reading!

“Hi, baby,” he whispered, one big fist sinking into her chignon and destroying it. “I missed you something fierce. Let me kiss you. Now that I’ve found you, I’m not letting you go until we know so much about each other, you’ll either hate me or never leave me again.”

***

He knew he was brash.

But sweet Jesus, she melted against him just as she had that night a year ago in the room at The Drake. She was hot and supple, her fine amber hair streaming over his hand like a warm river, her breasts flush to his chest, and he ached for more of her.

“Let me put this down,” he got out, his voice raw with all the pent up need, the worry, the longing all year long to have her once more. She looked enchanted, less stunned, but compliant as she watched him put his grocery bag on the table. Then her hands grabbed his lapels and pulled him against her.

Good start, baby. His arms surrounded her, his mouth took hers and oh, Christ is she food for my soul. Her lips were the same satin that he kissed in his dreams. Her tongue, the same eager partner to his in a duel to seize more of the other.

“Mara. Mara, honey.” He couldn’t stop saying her name as he claimed her with his lips on hers and his hands all over that toned body. “I’ve looked for you everywhere.”

“Did you?” she asked in a tiny voice, her gaze sweeping his features, her fingers tracing his cheekbones, the outline of his mouth, his jaw.

At once a wall clanged down between them—and she shook her head.

Reality changed her features from ravenous lover to confused teenager. “You can’t tell me that you— You aren’t—”

He lifted his hands in surrender. “Sweetheart, let me explain.”

“No.” She took a step backward. “You? You are the President of Capitol Communications? No. No, no.”

Jason knew if he rushed her, if he crowded her, she’d freak. He had no idea if she had a hard-assed-broad persona, but he was definitely not interested in bringing any out. He stood his ground. “My name is Jason Sherwood. I am the president and CEO of Capitol. I was a year ago. I am now. I have been looking for you ever since last Valentine’s Day at The Dr—”

“Is that what you’re doing here?”

“What?”

“Using that night to blackmail me into giving you my company?”

So much for not wanting to summon the bitchy female exec. He turned on his heel. Went for his bag and a bottle of the wine. Calmly putting them on the kitchen counter, he sensed her watching him. Like a trapped animal watched a hunter. Why was that? She was not his. Not by a long shot. Yet.

~ Cerise DeLand, Be Mine

Jack slipped his hand into his pocket and pulled out the box of candy hearts. Ellie gaped at him when he shook a handful into his palm. “Here. Hold this,” he ordered, thrusting the box into her hand.

Her fingers closed around it automatically. Her forehead creased into puzzled lines as she stared at the box. “Were you afraid we’d run out of things to talk about?”

“Nope. I just like these,” he said, sorting through the candies is his palm. A smile quirked his lips when he found the one he wanted. He plucked the tiny pink heart from his hand and offered it to her. “But this is what I really want to say.”

“Be Mine,” she whispered, her gaze fixed on the chatty confection.

“I don’t know why, Ellie, and I don’t know how. I just know I have to try.”
~ Margaret Ethridge, Be Mine
(from BE MINE, VALENTINE Anthology)

* * *

His compassion touched her heart. “Are you betrothed or belong to a woman in marriage?” she asked.

The arrow snapped as his startled gaze met hers.

“If you ask because your breast is bare and my hand is upon you,” He tossed the broken shaft aside, and shed his shirt ripping it into strips. “I assure you my only intention is to render aid.” His hands covered with her blood, he retrieved a small flask from a leather pouch secured to his breeches and pulled out the stopper.

“What is that?”

“Communion wine.”

Valentina gasped. “You think I am dying.” She lowered her gaze to her bosom and saw the broken arrow, blood leaking around it which had soaked the front of her dress and shift beneath.

“Not for your last Eucharist. To clean the wound. The Lord be praised, the arrow is not deep. Your angelic flight distracted me when I shot and lessened the force of the arrow.”

“You are a priest?”

“Still want to know if I have a wife?”

“I am a believer. I would be a good wife for a priest.”He laughed. “I shoot you in the chest, and you propose marriage? Let us preserve your life before we begin our courtship.” He poured the wine around the wood protruding from her chest. “Although, I must admit, we are beginning rather poorly. Sit up, there’s a girl.”

~ Jennifer Johnson, Valentina: The Untold Story

(from BE MINE, VALENTINE Anthology)

“I bought them when I stopped at a store on the way up here,” she said, taking the small box from him. She shook out the slender deck and showed them to him. “Each one has a question on it, it’s a game for Valentine’s Day. Want to play?”

“What’s the purpose?” Suspicion and amusement vied for dominance in his expression as he looked at her.

“They’re called The Conversation Cards, they’re meant to stimulate talking to each other,” she said.

“I can think of better stimulations, sweetheart.” He laughed.

She rolled her eyes and selected a card. “What’s the first thing you notice in a person?”

“Is there a point to this?”

She made a face at him. “It’s a game of sorts, allowing you to get to know things about the person you’re with,” she said. “It wouldn’t pain you to play along, would it?”

He took the card from her and looked at it. White and red, simple and sweet. The kind of thing teenagers might enjoy, and yet there was something very sweet about the hearts and red script. He shrugged.

“The first thing I noticed about you was your honesty,” he told her. “But that was in your letters. When we met, I noticed the light in your eyes. You were so alive and filled with passion.” He leaned forward and touched her cheek, his thumb tracing the curving slope. “You still don’t seem to understand how much beauty that can create in a woman, or how seductive it is to a man.”
~ Denysé Bridger, The Conversation Cards

(from PAS DE DEUX Anthology)

* * *

“I think from the first day that I saw you struggling with the sign out front I’ve been in love with you. Fierce, honest, independent, someone who could stand on her own or next to the person she loved. That is how I see you, how I have always seen you.”
~ Brigit Aine, Her Secret Admirer

(from PAS DE DEUX Anthology)

Fickle February

2012-02-20T05:00:00.000-08:00

What is it about February that's so blah. It's like the Thursday of months - not bad enough to be a Monday, but lacking the excitement of a Wednesday or Friday. Depending on where you live, February can be a dreary time as well.

Cold? Check. Snow? *looks out window* Check. Grey sky? Oh yeah.

The only great thing about February is that it's short. Oh well, and that Valentine's Day thing. But many people are mixed on how awesome VDay really is. (I personally think it rocks, but that's because my husband is amazing and it's also my sister's birthday).

All this said, I find February becomes my month to write and scratch things off my To Do list. In other words, I Get Shit Done. This year is no exception. So far I've sold one manuscript (more to come on that next month), should hear on a second, and have finished writing a third. I've also taught an online course, which was a blast. With nothing else to distract me, I'm finally hitting my stride.

But as March rolls around and the world looks to spring, will that momentum keep going? Only time will tell. :)

Christine's latest release is Spectral Bond, book five in her Eternal Bond series from Ellora's Cave.

Jumping inside the tube, Moira huffed out a breath, turned around and froze. No, that was impossible.

A man stood in the middle of the passageway, his back to her. He was dressed in one of those old 2245 memorial uniforms she’d seen pictures of lining the conference rooms back at Eurus. It looked to be the Briel version, though the man appeared to be human. The black fabric of the fitted back was highlighted by silver edging around the collar and waist. He was far enough away to almost blend into the darkness of the passage.

Almost.

Of course the intruder showed up now. “Hey!” There was no response from the man. “Idiot, there’s a solar burst coming. You’re going to get stuck! It won’t be safe down here.” Dressed like that and being in this part of the outpost meant he was most likely a scavenger from off planet. He’d probably landed at Eurus and ventured out to what he guessed to be easy pickings.

Fool.

Moira slammed her hand against the side of the tube door, trying to hold it open long enough to give him a chance to run. “Move! The radiation will kill you if you’re trapped in the corridors. The shielding has been compromised in this sector!”

The man cocked his head to the side, continuing to stare at something further down the passage. Moira thought there was something vaguely familiar about him, the shape of his shoulders and the tilt of his head, but at this distance it was difficult to know for sure. She was about to call out to him again, when the words died in her mouth.

He’d vanished.

Not stepped to the side or hidden behind a wall. He wasn’t transported by a beam somehow or fell through a hole. One second he was there, Moira blinked and then he was gone.

Vanished.

“What the hell?” she muttered as the tube doors slid shut despite her grip. “No!”

Moira pounded on the door to the tube before slamming her palm against the emergency release button. Nothing stopped the ascent of the platform, taking her to safety and leaving that poor bastard to his doom.

Chaos had exploded in the control center as everyone checked the outpost’s defenses, frantically getting ready for the inevitable blast of radiation. She caught sight of the frazzled McKillan racing around. How a man as short as he was could move as quickly as he did, Moira hadn’t a clue. Careful not to get in his way, she tapped the top of his head with her finger.

“You’re a bastard.”

He snorted. “That’s not news. What did I do now?”

“You said there were no other bio signatures in the basement. We must have another gap that the scavengers found. There was a man down there with me and now he’s going to get himself fried because I couldn’t get him out in time.”

“Move your bony ass.” He pushed his way past her. “There wasn’t another bio signature down there. You’re seeing things.”

“I’m not blind, McKillan. I know what I saw. Big guy standing in front of me.”

“The scanners only registered one life sign. Yours. Everyone else has been accounted for. And I had Security Chief Taber come out and do the security upgrades after the last time we had a break-in. No one is getting past that. You’re seeing things.”

“But—” She snapped her mouth shut. It was only going to make her look more of a troublemaker than people already thought she was if she argued the point. And as much of an ass as McKillan was, he’d never once shown he was incompetent.

Which meant it was possible she was losing her mind.

“Rahn!”

Moira spun around on instinct and snapped to attention. “Yes, Commander Taggert?” The Briel was the only one who’d been assigned to the outpost. The colony administration had needed a secondary location to conduct experiments on the silicate from the mines. The initial results had been deadly to the Briel. Only Taggert remained while the rest of the Briel scientists and security had been evacuated back to Eurus. He didn’t seem to mind that his lifespan would be considerably shortened.

Taggert crowded her, his normally impassive face now lined with tension. “We can’t contact Ryans. There could be a problem with his com unit, given all the other issues he’s had with equipment recently. Go check the archives to make sure he’s aware of the solar burst.”

Moira couldn’t look away from his sea-green gaze. Instead, she nodded. “Yes sir.”

“Burst has erupted!” McKillan pushed past Moira again. “Impact with the outpost in standard thirty standard minutes. We’re heading for lockdown. Eurus has been informed and is stepping up their precautions. This will be a hard one.”

“Rahn, move it, now.” Taggert barked at her before turning back to the station monitors. “Check on Ryans and then get to your quarters.”

Thankful for the excuse to get out of Command, Moira left quickly and jogged down toward the station archives room and the man she hoped was inside. Men and women raced down the corridors, blasters and emergency packs equipped. No one could anticipate what would happen when a flare slammed into the outpost. They had to be ready for anything, while they prayed for the best. The closest help Eurus could offer would be at least ten hours away. If they were compromised, they were in trouble.

Despite the congestion en route, she reached Archives in record time. Moira bit her bottom lip and fixed her gaze on the floor as she approached her destination. There was no reason to be nervous or coy. She was here under orders, checking to make sure a member of the crew was indeed safe. Peeling her gloves off, she wiped them down her pants before she reached up to fix her hair. He always seemed to like touching her hair.

Connor Ryans was older than she by a considerable number of years. His quiet intelligence intimidated the hell out of her anytime they were in conversation, which was becoming more often the longer she was here. Slowly, she’d grown to admire his wit, and realized that he appreciated her sarcasm. Their friendship had blossomed over the few months she’d been here.

She remembered the day he’d arrived on Eurus. She’d been sixteen and had been trying to persuade Security Chief Taber to let her join the Eurus security team, despite her young age. He’d been in the process of explaining with barely contained annoyance that she was far too young to be putting herself in the line of danger. Connor had jumped down from a ship recently out of cryo travel from Earth, looking disheveled and grinning like he’d been given a million credits. In that moment, Moira was certain she’d fallen in love.

Not that she would ever tell Connor.

Despite the difference in ages, Connor would let Moira into the archives where he’d taken a posting and make her feel at home. He never intentionally made her feel stupid when she’d ask questions that were clearly basic for even someone new to science. Connor would often get a soft smile on his face whenever he realized she had stopped following his train of thought and back up to begin again. She fell a bit more in love every time he did.

Moira enjoyed watching him, despite those feelings of inadequacy. Connor was tall, broad, built more like a soldier than a researcher. His brown hair was longer than regulation, but not by much, and his hazel eyes never seemed to miss a thing. When he moved around the archives, he did so with a grace that seemed out of place with his large body. Moira was endlessly fascinated with how he could pick up the tiniest of objects with his large hands. Not that he was as large as some of the Briel, but plenty for her liking.

He was gentle and handsome. The kind of man who normally didn’t pay the least bit of attention to someone like her.

On their first few meetings, she thought he simply tolerated her as one of the annoying station brats. But the more she prodded him into conversation, the more she came to think he was simply shy. How such a giant of a man could ever be shy was a constant source of amusement to her.

As she’d grown older, Connor became the center of her personal fantasies. Moira would picture herself down in the archives where he’d be working. She’d be stripped down to her undergarments and shivering in the cool air. Her curiosity would be piqued by some object and she wouldn’t be aware of his presence at first. Her dream self would gasp as he pressed her against the wall, heat from his body firing her blood. She would arch back against him, and with a smooth flip, he’d spin her around only to smother her with a kiss.

She would feel his cock against her groin, the steady press of heated flesh against cool fabric. Moira would slide her fingers over her clit and into her wet cunt as she imagined trying to wrap her hand around his thick shaft. She’d scream out her release, his name heavy on her lips and her body shaking from his phantom touch.

Gods knew if the reality would live up to her fantasy, but someday she hoped to find out.

The alarm screamed at her to abandon her daydreams and get back to the crisis at hand. “Warning, solar burst impact in twenty minutes,” the too-calm, melodic voice of the computer system trickled over the coms.

Moira pressed the door chime before stepping into the archives. The rooms, normally cooler than the rest of the base, felt hotter today than out in the hall or even down in the service corridors. Shit, she’d forgotten to report the heat spike to Crenshaw. Connor had mentioned it had to be kept cool in order to prevent some of the artifacts they’d found from decaying.

“Professor Ryans?” When she was certain no one else was around, she cleared her throat and tried again. “Connor? Are you here?”

Silence. She moved further into the room, shivering as a weird vibration traveled through her body from the floor. The odor of sweat and something very male rode high on the air, barely masking a hint of something rotting. Moira hadn’t noticed anything like it before. Something was wrong.

“Connor? There’s a solar blast coming. I need to make sure you’re ready.”

She spun around at the sound of shuffling. It wasn’t until Connor stepped out from behind the computer stacks that everything seemed to snap back into place. Even the scent vanished and her body relaxed. Smiling, she moved closer. “There you are. You weren’t responding to coms and Taggert was worried. He nearly took my head off when I didn’t move fast enough to find you.”

Connor stared at her, but otherwise didn’t respond. Moira shivered as the ventilation system finally kicked in, sending a blast of cool air rolling through the room. Connor jerked and cocked his head to the side, frowning.

“Moira?” His voice sounded rough, like he’d been yelling or drinking some of that bootlegged hooch someone had brought over from the mines a few weeks earlier. “What are you doing here?”

Despite her longing for the man, Moira had hesitated pursuing anything with him. Not that there was a hard-and-fast rule about security officers having relationships with nonmilitary personnel, but she found that the more she got to know and like him, the more she realized a bed-hopping relationship wasn’t what she wanted. If she were to go down that road, it would be for nothing less than a relationship. Moira was patient if nothing else.

“We’ve got a solar burst heading for the station, “she repeated, not sure what was wrong with him, but not willing to risk his safety. “You weren’t responding to coms. Is there a problem that I can help you with?”

“I’m fine. I was studying an artifact and must not have heard the com call.” He reached up and pinched the bridge of his nose and gave his head a shake. Looking up at her, he smiled softly, though it didn’t quite meet his eyes. “Sorry to have worried you.”

Without thinking, Moira stepped close and pressed her hand to his cheek. “Are you feeling okay? You look like hell.”

He jerked, as if surprised by her touch, but didn’t pull away. Something in his face changed and he seemed to retreat from her, deep into himself.

“I’m fine, Lieutenant. I’ve just had a few too many late nights recently.”

Connor hadn’t used her rank when speaking to her alone in ages. She tried to keep the hurt out of her voice, hoping he would let her help with whatever it was bothering him. “I noticed it was hotter in here than usual. Same as down in the sub levels. I can let Crenshaw know about it if you’d like.”

Connor continued to stare, a slight tremble running through his body as his muscles tensed beneath her touch. “I will let him know myself.”

Moira stepped back from his sharp tone. “Of course. Sir.” What the hell was wrong with him?

Let's hear what men have to say about Romance & Valentine's Day

2012-02-19T02:00:00.000-08:00

February, the month for lovers, since Valentine's Day falls on February 14th. I'm dedicating some blog space to a few men from different walks of life, age bracket and marital status and asked them what their interpretation of romance was and what Valentine’s Day meant to them.

I thank each and every one of them for their enthusiastic responses and no-holds-barred, shooting-from-the-hip responses.

Bruce, 35 years old: Guy’s do all the heavy lifting when it comes to romance and relationship continuity in general. We have to be the funny ones, the witty ones, the date planners, the impresarios. Girls just show up. If girls want a tip – step up your game. Put into it what you want to get out of it. You expect a guy to romance you – romance him. You expect a guy to do for you, do for him. Gotta give action to get action.

Angelo, married, 50 years old: “Valentine’s Day is a “f@!@!@” cash grab. Ten dollar roses on the corner all year jump to fifty bucks! It’s worse than the ice storm people who jacked up the prices of generators on people who are in their “f@!@!@” houses “f@!@!@” freezing . . .”

Angelo’s wife’s response: ”Now you know why we go out for Valentine’s Day on February 13. IF we do go out, because I can only listen to so much “I can make this f***in stuff at home for half this price . . .”

Ty Drago: “I’ve been married to my best friend and the most beautiful woman in the world for more than twenty years. Valentine’s Day is one of those days of the year when I get to tell her that. There are 364 others.”

Tom Cosentino: Although over-hyped and over-commercialized, Valentine’s Day allows men to appreciate their significant other and, consciously make an effort to recognize how special they are. Although we should do this all the time, men do need a kick in the butt and having Feb. 14 as an annual date to remind us, reminds us to keep it in our the mindset for more than one day.

Rick Wilcox: This year I’m going to be away from my wife on Valentines Day and it’s just killing me. We’ve raised 4 kids and now have 7 grandchildren, and after 30 years of marriage she’s still my sweetheart. Of course, my parents were married for 62 years, so Dad would call that a good start.For me, romance is all about intimacy, and nothing is more intimate than poetry. My wife says the most romantic moment of our life was a rainy night I read poetry to her while sitting on the front porch swing, listening to a gentle summer thunderstorm. I sat on the swing and she laid next to me with her head in my lap.That was a slice of heaven.

I asked my wife and she said it was a spontaneous kiss, sitting in my pickup eating pizza and watching a sunset the first year we were married. She said it tops every 5 star place we’ve dined around the world.

Michael John Sullivan, married: I find Valentine’s Day to be intrusive and forced upon me. On this particular day I’m expected to dazzle my lover with a shiny or sparkly gift. However, I love the idea of it to be part of the fabric of any relationship. I am a romantic. I prefer treating my honey to a wonderful candlelight dinner with Sinatra singing Summer Wind. A slow dance makes the evening more enchanting. But, since we have two teenage daughters, kiss that idea goodbye!!

Fun Guy, married, 56 years old: What I would find romantic on Valentines Day is to have your wife meet you at the door in a very sexy and revealing outfit (without kids) and have an evening planned of physical activities with dinner ordered in. Hot bath together, wine, cheese, grapes, sexy movie and then the rest is XXX. Valentines Day should be a day for both parties to make sure at least once a year they reconnect and spend time together to reignite the flame they had when they first met….look at each other, talk, and discuss there future needs, desires etc………doesn’t need to be expensive….just time together with no interruptions…without this. Valentines Day is just a big commercial money grab…..

Dan, single dad, 43 years old: For me, Valentine’s Day has always been a Hallmark holiday, turning husbands and boyfriends into panicked buffoons hoping either to get laid or stay on the good side of their better halves. I’ve never appreciated forced romance. However, here’s something for you. Like I said, not sure if it’s what you want.

Romantic? I’m not a roses and dinner kind of guy. I can’t dance and hanging out at a bar with a date sure doesn’t rev my engine, but that doesn’t mean that I don’t have a concept of romance (at least I hope I have one…)Here’s what I find romantic-It’s a Friday night. We’ve just finished dinner and we’re settled in for the night. The phone’s unplugged and I put an old movie in theDVDplayer. She’s never seen it before and since it’s an old movie I’m a little nervous that she might not like it. After a little while I can tell she’s into it. She laughs at all the right spots, she sighs, she wipes away a tear. She leans over and when our shoulders touch, she smiles and tells me that she likes it. I’ve seen the film at least a dozen times before, but on this particular night it’s like we’re both enjoying it for the first time.

Yeah, I know it’s not the most exciting scenario, but this is as good as it gets. For me, rediscovering a great movie with someone special is a real romantic moment – simple but affecting nonetheless.

* * *

Selena Robins Personally, I think men and women are similar on what we find romantic. Both men and women crave a connection and to know that we matter to the other person. It doesn't have to be in the form of gifts, or lavish trips and arrangements. Spending time together is the most important element in any relationship, nurturing it and showing with not only words but action that that person matters to us. This goes for any relationship, but even more so, when it's a romantic relationship, because that's when emotions usually run extremely high.

So, what do you think?

About Selena Robins

Genre-defying, witty, humorous, suspenseful, romantic and sexy—words used to describe Selena’s novels. A self-professed foodie and chocolateguru, Selena loves to dance with her dog, sing into her hairbrush and write in herPJ's. In love with her family, friends, books, laughter, hockey, livelydiscussions and red wine (sometimes all at the same time). Selena is a dragonslayer who enjoys reading and writing sassy heroines and hot heroes (the onesyour mamma warned you about, but secretly wished she’d dated a few in her life).

Selena's recent release is with Samhain Publishing, WHAT A GIRL WANTS. A romantic comedy, intermingled with mystery, hot spicy scenes and a touch of suspense.

BREAKING THE RULES by Cheryl Pierson

2012-02-18T01:00:00.000-08:00

If you’re like me, you have a few rules for writing–and for reading. In my writing there are some things I would “never” do. Here’s a list of a the top three:
Rule #1 – I never write in first person.
Rule #2 – I never write from a child’s point of view.
Rule #3 – I always have romance somewhere in my stories.

Well…one out of three ain’t bad.

I threw Rule #1 out the window when I picked up my pen and started my latest release, Kane’s Redemption. I wrote Kane’s Redemption in first person. It’s the first work of fiction I’ve ever written from this perspective, and after I wrote it, I knew there would be two more of these novellas to follow. There was no better way to tell this story of young Will Green and Jacobi Kane – and the secret that stands between them.

Will is a child when the story begins, but a young man by the conclusion. So, I guess you could say I broke my own “Rule #2” as well. But there are some stories that have to be told by the child, to take hold of the innocence that only a child possesses and manages to hold on to in the face of reality. Who could have told Scout’s story better than Scout, in To Kill a Mockingbird? No one. She was the perfect character to tell us what was happening and the perfect filter for us to see for ourselves those things she couldn’t put into words. Through her eyes, we saw everything. I knew that Will had to tell the story of what happened to him and how Jacobi Kane rescued him…and what happened afterward.

Growing up in the 1800’s on the prairie of the southwest would make an adult of you quickly; even quicker if you watched your entire family murdered in the space of five minutes. This story is not just about Will, though – it’s also about Jacobi Kane, who has some secrets of his own. Although he rescues Will, he wrestles with demons that can’t be fought alone – but how can Will help? In the end, who is the true rescuer – Will, or Jacobi Kane?

Romance? Well, there’s a bit of that. But it’s the romance that comes with new beginnings and the kiss of forgiveness–sweet, touching and straight from the heart. Come to think of it, the romance in Kane’s Redemption is a bit different from anything else I’ve ever written, too.

This story came from somewhere deep; a place I didn’t know existed. It’s a gift I hope you will take as much pleasure in reading as I did in writing.

Look for Book 2 in the Kane trilogy, Kane’s Promise, in the fall of 2012.
I will be giving away a copy of KANE’S REDEMPTION today! All you have to do is leave a comment, and please leave your e-mail address so I can contact you! I will leave you with the blurb and an excerpt. Hope you enjoy!

BLURB:
A ten-year-old boy fights for his life when he is taken prisoner by a band of raiding Apache. Steeling himself for death, Will Green is shocked when a lone man walks into the Apache camp to rescue him several days later.
Driven by the secret he carries, Jacobi Kane has followed the Indians for days and needs to make his move to save the boy. With the odds stacked eight against one, his chances for success look pretty slim. But even if he’s able to rescue the boy and they get out alive, what then?

EXCERPT FROM KANE’S REDEMPTION:
Red Eagle moved back just as fast as before and I felt my cheek burning. Blood dripped off his blade and that was it. I went after that red devil like I had lost my wits. I guess, truthfully, I had – because I don’t remember anything about it, except how good the first smash of my fist in his face felt.

Blood ran from Red Eagle’s nose and he cried out in a snarl of anger and pain and surprise.

I felt a pulse of energy rush through me, and I wrapped my fingers around his throat like he’d done to Mama. I tightened them and his blood streamed warm and slick over my grip. His eyes began to bulge, and I thought in another minute, maybe I could have the vengeance I had wanted so badly for the past week.

Papa always said a man’s quick wits are sometimes his only defense. I was exultant. I may have been foolish for what I did, and I felt sure Papa and I would disagree sharply on the use of my wits. But I did what I had to do.

Suddenly, rough hands were upon me, pulling at me. But I was like a mad dog, snarling, and foaming at the mouth in my pent up anger and hatred that was finally spilling out. What a glorious opportunity! Even if I died for it, I knew I couldn’t have passed it up – whether Papa might have approved, or not.

The Indians were all speaking at once, yelling, calling out, laughing. The moon was full, providing even more light than what the fire gave, making the night seem even hotter, as if the sun still shone on us. From somewhere in the distance of the woods beyond, I heard the call of the owls, and I knew enough Injun to know what that meant to them.

Someone was going to die. It might be me, but I was doing my damnedest to take Red Eagle with me.

A gunshot split the night air. “Dammit, stop it!” Hands like steel bands wrapped around my shoulders and jerked me off of Red Eagle. “Stop it!”

I couldn’t answer. I was breathing too hard, panting like the mad dog I had become. My hands balled into fists and flexed open again and again, and my fingers were sticky with Red Eagle’s blood. My own pulse sang through my veins in a triumph I had never experienced before.

“Boy, straighten up or you’re gonna get us both killed.” The voice was calm. I stopped struggling and looked up into the face of a white man. A white man had walked right into Red Eagle’s camp. I figured, now, those owls would have plenty more to tell – at least one more death.

But he didn’t seem worried. He held his rifle at the ready, pointed in the general direction of the group of eight Indians that rode in Red Eagle’s band. I glanced around the half-circle of painted faces, and I couldn’t help gloating. They all looked as if they’d met up with some kind of spirit or demon more wicked than they were. And that was going some.

“Can you ride bareback?”

I nodded. I guessed I could, I wanted to tell him. Been doin’ it for a damn week.
“Need help getting on?”

I shook my head and he let me go real slow. “Pick the one you can manage best and get settled on him. Take Red Eagle’s rifle and bullets.”

“Wait!” Red Eagle challenged. He rolled onto his side, wiping the blood from his nose. It pleased me greatly to hear that he wheezed when he spoke. “You take our horses, our weapons—”

“I ain’t takin’ your lives, you bastard. And I ain’t takin’ all your weapons,” the big man answered in a slow drawl. “Only yours. Pitch that knife over this way, and do it easy. My trigger finger is mighty nervous tonight.”

What rules have you broken in your own writing? Results? I'm curious!

For KANE’S REDEMPTION and all my other work, click here:
https://www.amazon.com/author/cherylpierson

What happens when I miss my writing goals

2012-02-17T00:30:00.000-08:00

I joined a critique group back over the summer that has some amazing writers and meets once a week. It has been great for me because I have issues with procrastination and having accountability for my weekly goals has helped keep me on track. But once in a while I miss my goal. The group has a game in which the person who misses their goal has to write a poem which includes a list of outrageous words made up by the other members of the group.

Just for fun I thought I'd share the results of my latest punishment. I should mention that my poetry was found to be so horrific that the group decided I could write prose instead. This is totally unedited BTW.

1. ~~Serial~~

2. ~~Sponge~~

3. ~~Ejaculate~~

4. ~~Rutting~~

5. ~~Specious~~

6. ~~Species~~

7. ~~Kablooey~~

8. ~~Red~~

9. ~~Hackles~~

~~10.~~ ~~Cream~~

~~11.~~ ~~Fondle~~

~~12.~~ ~~Dimwitted~~

~~13.~~ ~~Narcosis~~

~~14.~~ ~~Nacreous~~

~~15.~~ ~~Diversification~~

~~16.~~ ~~Green~~

“Here take this one. “Sheriff Paul pulled a Winchester from the gun rack and passed it across the desk .

Noah reached out and accepted the rifle, holding it in the crook of his arm.

“You sure you can do this? These dogs are mean.”

Noah gave his head a quick nod. It was always easier to nod than to sort through all the words tumbling around in his head.

From the other side of the room Deputy Reese laughed. “I don’t think you oughtta give him a gun. He’s too dimwitted.¹² Likely he’ll miss those wild dogs and shoot some kid instead.”

The sheriff pulled open the bottom drawer of his desk. “He’ll be fine. Remember that scraggly cream¹⁰ colored mongrel hanging around last month?”

“That one who used bite everyone’s horses?”

“Yup.” Sheriff Paul straightened and slid open a small cardboard box, withdrawing a handful of ammunition. “Lassiter here took care of that menace with only one shot.”

Noah held his tongue as he pushed the bullets into the rifle. Just this morning he’d sat on the front step of his cabin with that same dog beside him. Noah had sipped his coffee while he’d fondled¹¹ the dog’s silky ears.

Reece shook his head, “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Noah ignored him as he placed his hat on his head and stepped outside. Not too many people were on the street as he looked toward the morning sun. Turning the opposite way, an ominous wall of steel gray storm clouds rose from the line where the prairie met the sky. Behind him, the brilliance of the sun shone against the approaching storm. Three groups of geese streaked across the expanse. Their nacreous¹⁴ wings shimmered in the light.

He started toward the livery where he left his horse whenever he came into town.

A man and a young woman stepped from the mercantile. He recognized John somebody from the bank, who like everyone in town, ignored him. Emmeline Carter, though, was the only one who ever said hello. Today she smiled at him before she turned to walk beside John from the bank.

Emmeline Carter, looking as pretty as ever, wore her shiny red⁸ hair gathered on top of her head, beneath a flat round hat with feathers. Her dress, which matched her eyes, was the color of trees, or thick ferns, or the deep green¹⁶ moss which coated the rocks and earth, as soft as a sponge² beneath his bare feet.

He frowned. Where had that image come from? Then kablooey⁷, it was gone. He rubbed his temple, his fingers brushing the end of the thick scar that ran beneath his hair almost to the back of his head.

“…and Mr. Foster was pleased with my recommendations regarding the serial¹ numbers on all the bills as well as my thoughts on investment diversification¹⁵.” John from the bank continued talking until they reached the front doors of Broken Straw Savings and Trust. Before going inside he handed over the basket he’d been carrying and wished her a good day.

Rather than interrupt them or step into the street to go around, Noah stopped beside one of the posts that supported the roof over the walk in front of the bank. Most of the bark had been peeled away as though a rutting⁴ deer had been at it. He tried to pick off a loose strand of bark, but the fingers of his left hand did not work as well as his right.

Emmeline continued up the street then stopped at the corner and turned. She smiled again. “Are you following me, Mr. Lassiter?”

He thought she was teasing, but sometimes it was hard for him to tell. “N-no, Mmm-iss Em—Emmy—li-line.” He closed his eyes for a moment and breathed deep. The words came so easily in his head, why couldn’t he make them come out of his mouth? “G-go—ing l-liv—ry.”

Sunlight reflected in her eyes and lit her whole face. He wished that special smile was only for him, but he suspected she smiled like that for everyone.

“You have a good day, Mr. Lassiter.”

She turned and started down the street. He watched her for a few moments as she walked away. She lived with her family in a big blue house at the end of the street. He rode past it whenever he came to town. He turned and continued toward the livery.

“Noah!”

He stopped and swung around. Emmeline Carter had just screamed his name—his first name. He raced back to the side street, his boot heels thudding against the wood. Tearing around the corner he skidded to a halt.

Halfway down the street Emmeline stood with her back against the wall of Mrs. Whitney’s dress shop. In the street were the two black dogs, their hackles⁹ raised, their lips curled back like some weird specious⁵, no that wasn’t right, species⁶ of wolf, and their menacing yellow eyes were focused on Emmeline.

He stood, his heart pounding, unable to move or think. He’d felt almost the same way when he first woke up a few years ago, in what Doctor Baumgarten called, a state of narcosis¹³.

He tried to organize his thoughts, to formulate a plan. Emmeline had called out to him. He had to save her. Cocking his rifle, he raised it to eye level and aimed at the dog closest to Emmeline.

In rapid succession he pulled the trigger, cocked the lever to ejaculate³ the spent shell and drop another round into the chamber. He pulled the trigger as the second dog lunged for Emmeline’s throat. She screamed.

Noah didn’t move and he wasn’t sure he was even breathing. As the haze of smoke cleared he saw the two animals lay where he’d dropped them and Emmeline remained frozen against the wall.

His stomach began to quiver and his knees shook. She lifted her head then and met his gaze. Dropping her basket, she ran straight toward him and launched herself against his chest.

His left arm came around her shoulders and he held her close as she cried against his chest, her tears soaking through his shirt to warm his heart.

Now for something completely different: a contest!

2012-02-16T00:01:00.000-08:00

Since I've been working so much lately, I haven't had much time to work on my current books, or think up ideas for my blogs. So instead this month I'm offering 2 autographed copies of my spy novel, Secret Love. I'm interested in knowing if readers prefer eBooks or paperbacks and why.
Just leave me a comment below with your reply, and I'll pick the winners on Sunday, my only day off from both of my jobs! (Husband and I are going to continue our Valentine's Day week of celebrating by seeing one of our favorite blues bands, Howard and the White Boys, at a local "Booze, Blues and Barbecues" joint on Saturday night after I get off of work. I plan to sleep extra late on Sunday!)

And here's an excerpt to whet your appetite!
Scene: Sheena is forbidden by the unofficial terms of her contract with the agency she works for from becoming involved with anyone while she is on active duty. Technically she is on vacation for a few days, so not "on" active duty. She seduces the hottest man she has ever seen, recognizing him from the action movies he has starred in for years. But she knows she will have to leave him abruptly once she gets the summons back onto an active case.

Hours went by, then days, unnoticed by them both as they learned the intimate secrets of each other’s bodies. They took breaks to get new drinks, to prepare and eat food, to take quick naps. They took long soaks in the Jacuzzi before returning to the bed to once again seek pleasure in each other. They had sex in the kitchen, in the bathroom, on the comfortable cushions of the sunken living room furniture, and repeatedly in the bedroom.

And somewhere along the line, Sheena realized she was developing real feelings for this man. Once that thought presented itself to her, she ran to hide in the bathroom, terrified of what it might mean. She took some time in there, trying to slow her racing heartbeat. She knew that having a real relationship was forbidden while she was still under contract. That had never bothered her before.

Now as she stared at her reflection in the mirror, she saw the marks of their passion all over her nude body: bruises on her neck and breasts were reminders of the love bites he’d given her while he was in the throes of his own orgasms—she’d never felt any pain, just pleasure from feeling him come inside of her. There were imprints of his fingers on her hips where he’d held her tightly, pulling her so close to him that their bodies had felt fused into one. Her eyes were glassy from lack of sleep; her lips were puffy from being roughly kissed and bitten. One night they’d shaved each other’s pubic hair to see how that would affect their pleasure. She shook her head, marveling at how many unique ways they’d found to give each other mind-blowing pleasure. And yet she’d always known in the back of her mind that this wouldn’t last…it couldn’t.

So why do I suddenly feel panic, combined with a sense of impending loss?

When she got back out of the bathroom Cory was lounging on the cushions in the living room, a cup of coffee in his hand and a fresh pot of coffee on the table in front of him, along with some pastries she’d ordered sent up earlier… Or was it yesterday? She couldn’t remember, and that was another new source of anxiety for her.

What day is it?

She looked closely at him and saw that his body also bore the signs of their passionate lovemaking. There were marks on his shoulders where she’d bitten him while her orgasms made her gnash her teeth. His eyelids drooped lazily, as if he was a man almost totally satisfied, while his face had a beard growth of… How many days?

Trying not to be distracted by his nudity and his extreme good looks, she walked slowly over to sit facing him, on the same cushion but sideways, her feet the only thing close enough for him to touch.

“What’s wrong, darlin’?” he drawled lazily.

The fact that he was so attuned to her emotions only emphasized to her the danger she’d put them both into.
***************
Comment below for a chance to win an autographed copy of Secret Love!
And to read about all of my books, visit me at: www.fionamcgier.com

Join the Artistic Pursuit

2012-02-15T01:00:00.000-08:00

Frank Jennings is an FBI agent looking for redemption. Leslie Carlton is an Interpol agent looking for a thief. Attraction flares from the moment they meet on a case searching for a stolen triptych of unique Tiffany windows, but after a single night of stunning passion, Leslie is called back to London to continue his search there.

When the case heats up again, Leslie returns to the States—and to Frank—but their investigation is complicated by their tumultuous feelings. Is it possible for two dedicated detectives to pursue each other while they’re tracking down stolen art and the unscrupulous man who steals it?

Purchase from Dreamspinner Press:

Excerpt:

A file whacked harder than necessary on his desk, and Franklin looked up from where he was filling out a report. “Try not to screw up this one too badly,” his supervisor said without a hint of his usual humor, and Franklin knew exactly why. His last assignment hadn’t gone exactly according to plan, and one of the men on the team had been shot. Franklin took a deep breath and stopped himself from lashing out at the man the way every fiber in his being urged him to. What happened hadn’t been his fault, and Franklin knew it, as did everyone else, but that didn’t seem to matter—they needed someone to blame, and he was it.

“Nice show of support,” Franklin muttered under his breath. As the junior member of the team, he knew he was going to take crap for everything that happened, but he didn’t have to like it.

“Hey!” Harvey, his supervisor, snapped, leaning close to him. “We all know you got bad information, but you messed up because you didn’t double-check the address on your way over. You could have and should have. Because you went to the wrong house first, you lost the element of surprise, and Stevens got shot. You were in charge of the operation because you asked to be, so you take the lumps.” Harvey’s expression softened a little. “Everyone messes up; it’ll pass.”

“Yeah, but not everyone messes up and gets someone shot,” Frank retorted, and that was the heart of the issue. Frank knew he’d made a mistake, one that could have cost someone their life. Stevens didn’t blame him, but everyone else did, and more importantly, he blamed himself.

“So make up for it with this one,” Harvey told him before turning and walking into his glass-walled office near the corner. Frank opened the folder and began to read. As he did, he wondered why Milwaukee PD had turned this case over to the FBI. It seemed like a simple theft. Persons unknown had stolen a set of valuable windows from the Milwaukee Conservatory of Music. Sure, the items stolen had been valuable, but that didn’t warrant an investigation by federal agents.

“Don’t go to the wrong house this time,” Martinson taunted as he passed Frank’s desk.

“Thanks, Martinson. Don’t trip over your own feet,” Frank retorted with little humor. He’d be damned if he was taking flak from the department geek. Yes, he’d made a mistake, but Martinson was a total fool, and Frank couldn’t figure out why he was still around except that the man was great with numbers and computers, just not people. Martinson continued on his way, completely unfazed, and Frank watched as Martinson nearly fell into his chair, then looked at the floor, probably trying to figure out what he’d tripped over.

“Frank,” Harvey called from his office, “you finish reading that case file?”

“Yes.” Frank got up and walked into Harvey’s office. “Why’d this get bumped to us? Looks like a straightforward theft.” Frank stood in front of Harvey’s desk. He hadn’t been invited to sit, and no one sat in Harvey’s office unless invited.

“If it were, we wouldn’t have the case,” Harvey said, staring at Frank, waiting for him to continue. “So….”

Frank fidgeted slightly, knowing there was something he was missing, and it pissed him off. “There must be more to it. I saw the reports about this theft a few days ago. These windows are worth millions, but shit… who’s going to buy them? They have to be nearly impossible to sell. You think they were stolen to order?”

“That’s what you need to find out. I need you to get down there right away. The reason we’ve been called in is because this is bigger than a simple theft, or at least MPD and Interpol think so. Interpol is sending some agent of theirs, her name’s Leslie something, and she’ll meet you at the scene in half an hour. The school’s director is still pretty upset about this whole thing, so do your best not to piss the guy off.” That was Harvey’s idea of a dismissal, and Frank turned toward the door and stopped.

“Can I ask why you assigned this to me?”

“You can ask anything you want. Doesn’t mean I’m going to answer,” Harvey said before turning his attention to his computer screen, beginning to swear under his breath. Frank made a hasty retreat. Everyone knew to get the hell out when Harvey tried to do anything with computers. E-mail alone was a challenge, and more than one keyboard had been thrown through his doorway.

Frank grabbed his keys off his desk along with the file and headed out of the downtown office building, driving through the heavy downtown traffic to the lakeshore. He pulled into the conservatory parking lot and got out of his blue sedan that just screamed “Federal Agent.” Walking around toward the front door, he saw what had to be a student carrying a violin and bow, and said, “I’m looking for Mr. Temple.”

“He’s in his office.” She pointed the way with the bow and then hurried up the stairs. Frank couldn’t help looking around the room before walking in the direction she’d pointed and knocking quietly on a closed door.

“Mr. Temple,” Frank said when the door opened, “I’m Agent Frank Jennings from the FBI. We’ve been called in to help investigate the theft of your windows.”

“Thank God,” the man responded, and he opened the door fully, indicating for Frank to come into the office. “I’ve been frantic for two days, and I’m wondering when we’ll get our windows back.” Mr. Temple motioned Frank to a chair and sat in the one opposite.

“That’s what I’m here to help with. Can you answer a few questions for me?”

“Of course. Anything to help get them returned. They were the source of inspiration for many of our students, and it seems wrong for them to be gone,” Mr. Temple said, and Frank could see he seemed genuinely upset.

“Do you have pictures of the windows? The ones in the file I received weren’t very clear. And I was wondering when you saw the windows last.”

“They were still in place Monday night, and when I came in Tuesday morning, they were gone,” he answered easily, and Frank continued to watch him for any hint of deception, but saw none.

“Are there lights on that side of the building?” Frank pulled out a pad and began taking notes. Mr. Temple got out of his chair, and Frank noticed that he was a strikingly handsome man, even if he was somewhat older than Frank usually liked. Keep your attention on the case, Frank reminded himself as he stood up as well, but he couldn’t help noticing the trim cut of Temple’s suit and his large, bright eyes. Blinking a few times, Frank cleared the lascivious thoughts and got his mind back on work.

“There are,” Temple added a little sheepishly, leading him out of the office and down a hallway before opening what looked like a closet door. “When we did the renovations to the building, we had lights installed on that side of the building to illuminate the windows in the evening.” Mr. Temple pointed to a timer mounted near the electrical box. “The lights come on when it gets dark and go off at 11:00 p.m., when we close the building.” He looked dejected. “To think if we wouldn’t have tried to cut costs on the lighting, we might still have our windows.” Frank wanted to reassure him, but he couldn’t, at least not yet, so he stayed quiet and kept his eyes open.

“Mr. Temple, there’s someone asking for you at the front door,” a young man said from behind them.

“Thank you, Jimmy. Tell them we’ll be right out.”

“That could be the person I’m supposed to meet. My supervisor said a woman was going to meet me here.” Frank wasn’t sure how much he should tell Mr. Temple about who he was meeting, so he kept quiet and followed Mr. Temple back down the hallway and toward the front door.

Frank saw a tall man standing near the front door, and since this wasn’t who he was waiting for, he figured he’d go around the building before Leslie arrived. He was about to head outside when the man stopped him. “Are you Frank Jennings?” he asked in a pronounced British accent with a half smile, and when Frank nodded, the man continued, “I’m Leslie Carlton. I believe you’re expecting me.”

Frank stared. When Harvey had said Leslie, Frank had expected a woman, and Harvey obviously had as well, but instead, Frank was looking into the deepest blue eyes of the most amazingly attractive man he’d seen in a long time. Remembering where he was and what he should be doing, Frank extended his hand. “Sorry. I’m Frank Jennings, and this is Mr. Temple, the director of the conservatory.” Leslie shook both their hands.

Valentine Facts and Love

2012-02-14T02:00:00.000-08:00

Since I'm blogging on Valentine's Day it's only befitting I should talk about it. We all know it's the day lover's send gifts to each other, declare their love and even sometimes marry on this special day.

But there are other things in history we may or may not know.

Around the world, Valentine's Day means basically the same thing and here are a few facts that I discovered I didn't know.

God blessed me today and sent my Valentine in a dream. I woke up smiling.

1. The heart has been the most common figure of romantic love over the decades. Ancient cultures believed the human soul lived in the heart. The heart may be linked with love because the ancient Greeks believed it was the goal of Eros, known as Cupid to the Romans. Anyone shot in the heart by one of Cupid's arrows would fall hopelessly in love. Because the heart is also closely linked to love, its red color is considered as romantic.

2. Doves are also part of the Valentine tradition. These birds are symbols of love and loyalty because they mate for life. A pair of doves will also share the care of all their babies.

3. In olden times some people used to believe that if a woman saw a robin flying overhead on the Valentine's Day, it meant she would marry a sailor. If she saw a sparrow, she would marry a poor man and be very happy. If she saw a goldfinch, she would marry a millionaire.

4. A love knot is a symbol of undying love, as its twisting loops have no beginnings or ends. In olden times, they were made of ribbon or drawn on paper to prove ones eternal love.

5. On February 14th wooden love spoons were carved and given as gifts on Valentine's Day in Wales. Hearts, keys and keyholes were favorite Valentine decorattions on the wooden spoons. This Valentine decoration meant, "You unlock my heart!"

6. The red rose was the favorite flower of Venus, the Roman goddess of love. The color red stands for strong romantic feelings making the red rose the flower of love.

7. Verona, the Italian city where Shakespeare's play lovers Romeo and Juliet lived, receives about 1,000 letters every year sent to Juliet on Valentine's Day.

8. Cupid is a symbol of Valentine's Day. Cupid was associated with Valentine's Day because he was the son of Venus, the Roman god of love and beauty. Cupid often appears on Valentine cards and gift tokens holding a bow and arrows as he is believed to use magical arrows to arouse feelings of love.

9. The Valentine's Day chocolate boxes were introduced in 1868 by Richard Cadbury

10. The famous gifts and cards company Hallmark, launched its first valentine product in 1913.

I hope you have enjoyed sharing a part of Valentine Day with me and feel free to copy these facts and pass them on. I hope all of you out there enjoy a lovely day and enrich our world with love on this wonderful day to celebrate it.

SHETLANDS IMMORTALS CONTEST

2012-02-13T01:00:00.000-08:00

Hello All Sweet and Sexy Diva's Readers,

Today we have a huge CONTEST for you. Today you can win the first Shetlands Immortals: Against My First Love book. ALL you have to do is comment on the blog with your email below.

Shetland Immortals: Against My First Love Blurb:

Carla McBain was just an ordinary sixteen year old girl, until one late night in October; Carla was murdered in her dorm room. Carla was scared until Oscar and Daryl meet her on her return to the Islands, to meet her parents. After confronting her, they realise that she is a new Immortal.

After staging her death, the pair convinces Carla to return to their Holy Ground, where they tell her everything that they know. They train her until the day comes that the Islanders grew suspicious of her presence there within the Old Viking Temple.

Deciding it’s safer to leave, they head out into the night in search of someone else who can tell them the truth about why they are Immortals. What will they find?

Can Oscar and Daryl survive outside of the Temple with a young Immortal?

How did they end up Immortal and why are they protecting her?

What happens when she meets her first love who is responsible for her being Immortal in the first place?

We also have today a wonderful surprise, as many of you know. There is print versions to certain books coming to XoXo Publishing INC this year. With that news comes the knowledge that there is two of my biggest series that will be taking a dip in that big pool.

So for you today, here is the wonderful covers that my cover artist, editor and PR assistant created for us. I have also included the blurbs to these books for your reading leisure. Enjoy and I would love to hear your thoughts on these particular books.

We start with the wonderful A Different Life: From The Beginning. The book that contains the first three ebooks and bonus chapters. This is a coming soon Print book.

From unknown writer and dancer comes Layla or author Midnight as she bursts onto the scenes of the world of Professional Wrestling. Ripping the curtain down, she takes over their world. Her books stir mayhem as love blooms between herself and the men she has idealised since she was a teenager. What would you do if you fell in love with two brothers and still had a boyfriend sitting at home? Well Layla faces that and much more in this twist and turning three part story. Are you ready for sweaty, muscularly men and a modern romance that will leave your knees weak? Your heart beating fast and you asking yourself the question Will or Edward or Cameron?

Moving onto to the wonderful Paranormal world of magic, sword fighting, prophecy, we have The Shetland Immortals Collection that will contain the first four books of the Shetland Immortals series.

Have you ever wondered what it's like to be Immortal? Would you want to be the girl connected to a prophecy that can give centuries old Immortals the one thing they either want or would kill to stop? Carla knows what that feeling is like and she is on a rollercoster that is all about life and death. Her, her mentor Oscar, The Immortal Chief, Krystal-Marie, Mark McHarrison and Daryl are about to know exactly what its like to be in the middle of a prophecy that is older than King Arthur. From King Arthur's time till the year 2013. This book follows this group as they all play apart in an prophecy that the Norse Gods themselves planned out!

These are proving to be the best books I have ever had the pleasure on working on. I will make a side note in each of the blogs leading up to their release. I will also be holding a contest to win these print books when they come out. So please make sure that you stay tuned for them.

We are really about to release some of the hottest creations on the world. So please let me know what you think of the covers.

Thank you for having me and I hope that you will come back next month to join me.

Kristal McKerrington

The Lure of Menage

2012-02-12T02:00:00.000-08:00

There was a time when I just couldn't wrap my brain around the idea of a menage. Mind you, I have no trouble imagining it in my fantasies. In them I often have more than two guys wanting to take me on. :) However, in my writing I kept thinking about the dynamics of two guys wanting to share one woman.

I mean, won't they get jealous of each other? Won't there be fights? The usual macho postering? And what if the gal liked one guy better than the other? Would he know it or guess? What would happen then?

It seemed an insurmountable problem for me until I came up with the idea for SiNN, my first menage. In it, Lea's being stalked by a ruthless psychopath who wants her dead. Enter Jake Gabriel and Toby Quinn, US Marshals and friends sent to protect her.

At first, I thought Lea and Jake would be the sole love/sex interest, but somehow Toby kept nudging me and saying, 'Hey, give me a chance, will ya?' Rather than fight what my characters wanted, I just went with it and BAM (as Emeril would say), my first menage was born and none of the things I worried about happened. My heroes were confident enough in their own masculinity to have Lea crave them both at the same time. They became each other's family, in addition to giving each other tons of pleasure.

And now I'm proud to announce that my newest menage has just been accepted for publication by Ellora's Cave. I'm awaiting title approval, so I can't share that as yet. However, I promise this menage will be as steamy as SiNN and will bear my signature 'heat with heart'. :)

Important Blogger Trick

2012-02-11T00:01:00.000-08:00

When I first started using Blogger, I would write my blog in MS Word, paste the final product into Blogger and then add the associated pictures. The problem is, when pictures are added, that messes up the paragraph breaks in the text. Words are split randomly into two pieces and the entire document is a mess that is hard to fix using the Blogger editor, especially because there is no “Undo” function. After some time, however, I found a much better approach. Here’s my secret.

DO NOT ADD TEXT TO BLOGGER FIRST.

That’s it—the entire secret. You need to add the images first. Simply place them in their relative position one after the other. They are easy to move around as long as there is no text, and if you make a mistake it is easy to add an image back in.

When your images are all in relative positions in Blogger, go to your word document and “Cut” that portion of the text you want to go with the first image. In Blogger, “Paste” the test next to the first image. When you paste, the other images will move down, so you will need to delete some lines until the other images gradually move up to your cursor.

Now, go back to your word document and “Cut” the text that will go with the second image. Go back to Blogger and “Paste” the text adjacent to the second image.

After you paste text adjacent to each image, you are almost finished. As a last step, I generally highlight all the text in the blog, and then select “Large” font size.

By the way, your word document should have a consistent font and font size, and should not have any blank lines between paragraphs. That will make it easier to adjust the text to your images in Blogger.

For those of you who thought it impossible that I could write a short blog, this should prove you wrong. Please visit me at http://cookinwithmisshavana.blogspot.com/ to read blurbs, reviews and excerpts from my books. As always, it’s a delight being here.

Thank you Sweet ‘N Sexy Divas.

James L. Hatch

Author for xoxopublishing.com, Solstice Publishing and Eternal Press.

The Origins of "Romance with Dangerous Curves"

2012-02-10T05:30:00.000-08:00

Hi everyone. I'm Francesca Hawley and I'm new to Sweet and Sexy Divas. This is my first official post as a diva, so I wanted to tell you all a bit about myself.

When I first started reading romances back in my teens and twenties - a LONG time ago - all heroines were gorgeous and thin. They possessed the requisite slender waist and perky bosom. Now, for you ladies that fit that mold, I'm happy for you but I never looked like that. And I do mean never. Reading those romances often reinforced the feeling I had as a young woman that only thin and pretty girls got the guy. I know that wasn't the message the writers intended, but I was...um...sensitive.

However, the books I read back in the day inspired me to hope I might one day write romances too. In retrospect, I have no points of contention with the authors who wrote (and still write) stories with slender heroines. But back then I wondered, "where is a heroine like me?" Where are the heroines with wide hips, full busts, and legs that aren't long and lean?

As I grew older and my thoughts turned to writing seriously, I didn't immediately decide to "break the mold" with my heroines. I tried to write about slender heroines. Women with waists whom a man's hands could span. Heroines with legs that didn't rub together.

Alas...I had major trouble. Why?

The last time anyone could span my waist with his hands or my legs didn't rub together, I think I was about...three? Five? Probably around five. Yeah, I've been fat all my life. Yo-yo weight for better living through yo-yo dieting. Hence, I was usually fatter rather than thinner. As much as I loved stories with slender heroines and their sexy heroes, I had trouble relating to those heroines. I think we all have a little trouble relating to people and situations with which we aren't familiar.

That translated to paper when I started writing, because when I tried to write thin heroines they didn't feel authentic.Probably because I've never inhabited a small body.One thing writers hear when they are getting started is: "write what you know." Well, I don't know thin. I have thin friends, but I've fought my weight all my life to be thin. I never was thin. At best, I was pleasingly plump.

So what's a writer to do? Write fat. Plus-size. Rubenesque. Whatever you want to call it.

I decided to write heroines like me. Even if no one ever read my stories, at least I'd recognize the women I wrote about. My heroines are big girls. Some have issues with their weight and believe they aren't beautiful, so they work through those issues. Others know they are fine and expect everyone around them to acknowledge it too. It's fun to explore those issues. Especially now.

I think the way society is beginning to look at all kinds of women as beautiful makes it easier for me to write my BBW heroines because publishers recognize that heroines come in all shapes and sizes, too. Many of them accept...even welcome...plus-size heroines.

When I was in my twenties (many years ago), it was unusual to find a big girl as a heroine. And if she started out big, she had to lose weight to get the boy. Now, that's no longer the way it is and I'm really glad about that.

So that's how my tag line, Romance with Dangerous Curves, was born.

It's wonderful that as writers we are given the freedom to make our heroines exactly who they are...fat, thin, or somewhere in between. It's a good thing.

And to celebrate Valentines day, I have a contest running all February long. Comment on my blog posts or anywhere else you see me (like Facebook) and each response will count as an entry for the contest. At stake, a $25 gift certificate to Barnes and Noble and another $25 gift certificate to Ellora's Cave Publishing. And you know me...there will be other sexy goodies thrown in - like print copies of my books and sex toys for the adventurous reader. Wink...

Lovers on the Fringe by Stephanie Julian

2012-02-09T05:50:00.000-08:00

The second book in my series, Lovers on the Fringe, has just been accepted by my editor. I don't even have a cover yet but I do have a title: THE BIGGER THEY ARE...

This is Andy's story. Andy is a Yeti shift. Yes, he's occasionally the Abominable Snowman but otherwise he looks like this guy. Oh my.

I know the series might sound a little strange but I am having so much fun with Bigfoot and Yeti and fairies and all those creatures you thought were just myths.

I'm also having a great time playing with Pinterest, the internet pinboard. Check me out and you can see all my inspirations for my series.

One of the biggest inspirations recently has been the Animal Planet show, Finding Bigfoot. I love this show. Matt Moneymaker is a true believer and Bobo makes 'squatch calls. Cliff enjoys running down trees and I'm not sure Ranae is as big a skeptic as she says she is. The show is occasionally laugh-out-loud funny and I'm totally hooked. It's on Sunday nights at 10.

Another inspiration for me has been Syfy's Destination: Truth. Host Josh Gates travels the world looking for freaky things like chupacabra and flying dinosaurs in Africa. You'll be meeting my version of Josh in an upcoming book. But first, in THE BIGGER THEY ARE..., you'll meet his sister Jenna.

If you'd like to read the first book in the series, check out SIZE MATTERS. This is Tim's story. He's Bigfoot. And you know what they say about a man and the size of his feet...

Switching Up Your Genres

2012-02-08T05:05:00.000-08:00

Some experts will tell you not to change genres. That once you are known for one genre you could lose fans who know and expect that in your books. For 6 years I wrote gay crime fiction. I always loved cops, most of my favorite TV shows over the years have been crime stories, Starsky and Hutch, The Rockford Files, Columbo, Baretta, Cagney & Lacy, Cold Case(which I still watch) and on and on. Even today, I prefer crime shows to all others. My faves today are Blue Bloods, Castle, and my favorite of all time: Southland. Ironic, really, since I've only been able to see the first season, since the channel it's on now is unavailable.

So you'd think when I first started writing I'd do crime fiction. Instead I wrote Science Fiction. Okay, I was a huge Star Trek fan and even watched the Next Generation. I wrote them—about 7-8 novels—but made little attempt to sell them. I'm not sure to this day why that was, but I didn't have the conviction. I always thought there was a disconnect—my writing wasn't like the books I read. They were real, mine were just for fun. No one would possibly be interested in what I wrote.

I'm not sure why that changed, but in the early 2000s, after reading Jonathan Kellerman, something clicked. What if I wrote about a gay cop, like Milo, but not Milo and make him the main protagonist. I decided to put him in the closet first, then be forced out because of love. Even from the days of writing SF I usually had some form of romance in them, so I never imagined writing a novel without it. David Eric Laine came along and I envisioned him as being the antithesis of the gay culture. He'd be big, slightly overweight with a pockmarked face, certainly nothing another gay man would look at twice. It didn't help that he was terrified of his colleagues finding out what he was. His life was narrow and limited. Meeting Christopher Bellamere changed his life irrevocably, forcing him to choose the closet or love. He chose love, but even so, over the following books he had problems he had to work through.

I wrote Geography of Murder as a personal challenge to myself. I wanted to know if I could write about a character who did things I totally despise and make him someone readers cared about. I was also a huge fan of Josh Lanyon, and his Adrien English stories. But I admit I was annoyed that Jake the cop was supposed to be into bondage, yet actually did that. So I got to thinking about a cop who was into bondage and master/slave relationships, who also has no interest in a long term relationship. Spider needed to meet someone who tested those bounds and it seemed to me that man needed to be unsure and in need of love and support, things he's never had before. I'd done some mild bondage with David before, but nothing as intense as what Spider did. I was lucky enough to be able to talk to a few people who were into the scene and could give me some insight into them. Because, for me, the whole master/slave thing is the opposite of anything I've ever experienced. Somebody tells me I belong to them and my back goes up. I don't belong to anyone, yet I had Spider saying that often and Jason loved it. He wanted to belong.

I was never sure if it was going to work, but I was really surprised when it turned out one of my most popular series. Who knew? But I wouldn't have done any of it if I hadn't been open to trying something different. Which I did again when I wrote my first historical, Placing Out, set in 1932 Los Angeles, at the end of Prohibition. Like all my other books to date the characters were gay men. But nothing since then has been. I now write only historical fiction and it looks like I've found my métier.

But none of that means I won't write something else in the future. I've learned not to say never. In writing, at least.

How is it with you? Do you like experimenting with new genres, or mixing genres into something else? How did it turn out? How did you find your genre?

Leave a comment and win a copy of my latest novel, Latin Boyz, which will be released February 26^th.

Latin Boyz

BLURB:

Gang aggression and hatred tear Gabriel Aguila's family apart, while the unwilling love he has for LAPD patrol officer Alejandro Cerveras would make him whole again if he could accept it. Tragedy strikes fueling his rage. As the need for vengeance drives him past all reason, violence and hatred erupt, spiraling out of control, leading to tragedy and the greatest loss of all. Making the wrong choices at every turn, Gabe struggles to keep his family safe without succumbing to the gutter level of his enemies. But he has to learn to trust Alejandro and he’s never trusted anyone before.

Ideas, ideas, ideas!

2012-02-07T07:23:00.000-08:00

Where do they come from?

It's a question I'm constantly asked by readers, fans and other authors.

For me they come from anything. I can see a person sitting in the airport staring out the window and wonder what's on their mind. A lover? A new person in their life. Business? What about the waitress at the restaurant? Maybe the guy in the corner by himself is interested in her and comes in every day for coffee just to look at her, but he's too shy to talk to her. How about the person in the car next to me at the stop light? A new song on the radio? I love getting new ideas from all over the place and it's exciting to think up a story to go along with what I'm thinking. Songs are my favorite though. Someone told me once songs are just 90 second stories which is really true. If you think about it, they are. They might not necessarily start with where they first meet, but where the people in the song are in their lives.

So next time you glance across the room or see someone standing in line at Starbucks, let your imagination run wild and think up a short story for them. You'll be surprised at the way your mind will wander off into the great unknown. Experience the first kiss between lovers. How they slowly moved toward each other. The taste of his lips--the softness--the brush of his tongue asking to you to open for his invasion. The touch of his hand at the small of your back as he draws you closer.

Mmm...

Until next month

Sandy

Sneak Peek: My Self-Pubbed Cover

2012-02-06T00:34:00.000-08:00

Hello Peoples!

In a couple months, I am going to be making the leap into self-pubbing a story! It's a very interesting experience and quite a bit different than the traditional e-publishing model that I am used to. A bit scary, sure, but also exhilarating in how I as the author am in control from beginning to end (yes, that may come to bite me in the butt later, but right now I'm on an "anything is possible" high).

While the story won't be available until May, I am debuting a sneak peek right here of my cover! World Premiere!

Isn't it beautiful? (sigh)

Just this tease for right now, since I'm still in the process of pulling everything together. I'm beyond excited, and of course, I'll be letting out more details once we are closer to the actual launch date!

Wish me luck! :)

What You'll Be Talking About Tomorrow

2012-02-05T00:01:00.000-08:00

Today is Super Bowl Sunday and it’s a good bet most people will be talking about the game or the halftime show tomorrow. For those who don’t avidly follow professional sports here are some other things you can discuss over your morning coffee.

E-book sales soar after the holidays – The top seller: “How to Avoid Spending Another Holiday with your In-laws.”

Former Vice President Dan Quayle endorses Mitt Romney for President – Someone had to tell him how to spell “Romney”…and “president.”

Madonna will perform at the Super Bowl halftime show –Promises at least one Wardrobe Malfunction Disaster.

Super Bowl Skechers ad will feature a dog instead of Kim Kardashian – The dog was better at following directions.

Adult film actors threaten to pull out of L.A. over mandatory condom regulation – L.A. isn’t all they’re pulling out of.

Prince William and Kate attend world premiere of The Iron Lady – William thought it was a movie about his stepmother.

Snoop Dog gets arrested in Texas for marijuana possession – Willie Nelson jumped off the bus just in time.

Study shows that marijuana smoke is less harmful than cigarette smoke – Marlboro Man asks Snoop Dog to pass him a joint.

Betty White turns 90 – Still feisty enough to tackle Abe Vigoda when he went for an extra slice of birthday cake.

Cracker Barrel founder Dan Evins dies; company promises his legacy will live on – Just don’t ask about the new secret ingredient in those down-home meals.

Harry Potter star Daniel Radcliffe returns to Broadway in revival of 60’s musical Hair – Ignores opening night catcalls of “Show us your ‘magic wand,’ Harry!”

Sarah Palin addresses GOP fundraiser in Orlando, Florida – Claims she can see Cinderella’s castle from her front porch in Alaska.

Actress Fran Drescher says she was abducted by aliens when she was a teenager – They gave her back when she started making all those whiny demands.

TV ratings company founder A. C. Nielsen passes away – If you missed this, don’t feel bad – it only got a 1.2 audience share.

Have a super week!

Tim Smith is a bestselling author whose books range from romantic thrillers to contemporary erotic romance. More information about his books can be found at his website www.timsmithauthor.com.

Giveaway!! Plus Everything You Wanted to know about Jan Springer but where afraid to ask!

2012-02-04T01:00:00.001-08:00

Hi! I’m Jan Springer, Erotic Romance Author and I’m new at Sweet N Sexy Divas.

I thought this would be the perfect time to introduce myself to folks who don’t know me and also to have a giveway of a pdf ebook copy of my erotic romance ménage “The Pleasure Girl” – Book 1 in my post-catastrophe erotic romance series "The Desperadoes" published by Siren BookStrand.

In order to qualify to enter my giveaway all you need to do is post a comment below and I will pick a winner and announce it here in the comments section tomorrow! Here's a pic:

A fiery eruption of solar flares disintegrates most of Earth’s human population, frying electrical grids around the world and thrusting everyone into a cold, harsh land where only the strong survive.

Forced to become a pleasure girl in order to survive, Teyla Sutton reluctantly agrees to service dangerous desperado Logan Leigh and his two friends. White-hot pleasure becomes addictive beneath Logan’s tender touches and his hard, muscular body. What Teyla never expected was to fall in love. Logan knows he shouldn’t allow the Pleasure Girl into his heart, but he also knows it’s too late because she’s already there.

Soon three desperadoes are whisking Teyla away on an exquisite journey into her hottest dreams and forbidden desires. When she learns they are members of the notorious Durango Gang, can she allow them into her life, or will she send them away forever?

A Siren Erotic Romance

More info can be found here: http://www.bookstrand.com/the-pleasure-girl

And so without further adieu, here’s a little info about me and what a write.

Q: Where are you from?

Jan: I was born and raised in Oshawa, Ontario, Canada.

Q. What do you write?

Jan: I write erotic romances. Several genres include: contemporary, futuristic and paranormal (vampire). I write m/f as well as ménage stories. I have several series at Ellora’s Cave, plus a series “The Desperadoes” at Siren BookStrand. I’ve also been published by other electronic publishers, plus Pocket Books. If interested, more info on my series can be found here: http://janspringerauthor.wordpress.com/series/

Q: When do you write? Do have a routine?

Jan: I try to stick to a routine, but life always has a way of interrupting. Lately my mornings are for running errands. In the afternoons and evenings I write as I am a full time writer and that’s how I pay my bills. :-)

Q: What are your favorite books?

Jan: I love reading Maya Banks, Lora Leigh and a bunch of other authors.

Q: What do you do when you have writer’s block?

Jan: I walk through my writer’s blocks. Sometimes it takes just one walk and other times several walks to figure things out. I will also go onto another writing project while I work out a block regarding a current storyline. That seems to help.

Q: What are your hobbies?

Jan: I love hiking in the woods, gardening, baking, camping, kayaking, watching movies and reading and writing.

Q: What’s your most favorite place in the world?

Jan: I love the wooded area between Wawa and Terrace Bay, Ontario in Canada. The seclusion and peacefulness of the area really relaxes you. That’s where my very first book idea (Peppermint Creek Inn – Ellora’s Cave) was born.

Q: What’s your favorite quote?

Jan: Lately I’ve been having a lot of experience with this quote – “Before you diagnose yourself with low self esteem or depression, first make sure that you are not, in fact, surrounded by assholes.” (I hope I’m allowed to say the last word here?) LOL

The above quote does make one pause and think, don’t you think?

Q: What is your most popular series?

Jan: Outlaw Lovers (Ellora’s Cave)

Q: Do you have any pets?

Jan: Yep. I run a nursing home for cats (kidding). I have two senior cats, 1 is almost 18 years old with health issues and 1 is 10 years old with overweight issues. I have another cat, who is maybe 4 years old with hand issues. Unfortunately she hates hands…she bites them. Hard. She was a stray when I took her in and I assume she was abused by a previous owner. I’ve had her for three years and she’s just now starting to allow me to hug her. Those moments are so precious and my heart sings at how far she has come in trusting me.

Q: What’s your next release?

A: Captive Heroes – Ellora’s Cave. (No release date yet) It's the final book in my Heroes at Heart series. It’s a futuristic erotic romance

Q: And after that?

A: LOL. Resistance – Outlaw Lovers 5…I’m just finishing it up. Should be done within a few days and I plan to submit it for consideration to Ellora’s Cave. After that…I have several more stories on the burner.

Q: What's your latest release?

A: "Be My Dream Tonight" - The Desperadoes 3 over at Siren Bookstrand. More info on the series can be found here, if you want to take a peek. http://www.bookstrand.com/jan-springer

Q: What's your favorite color?

A: Yellow! It always reminds me of sunshine and makes me feel so happy.

Okay! I guess that’s it. I don’t want to bore you too much. I hope you enjoyed my first post and I hope to see you back next month on the 4^th. If you have any questions, feel free to post them and I will try to answer as best I can.

Hugs and Have a Wonderful Day!

Jan Springer

http://www.janspringer.com

New book out..Yay!!!!

2012-02-03T01:10:00.000-08:00

It's always so thrilling when a new book comes out. Any author slaves and writes, rewrites, agonizes over the best way to word a thought before it escapes, and then suffers through edits which alway seem kinda stupid at first but end up forcing you to admit the criticism was not only correct but an improvment.

Seducing Simon is the seventh book in the mage series. It came out this week as an e-book, and will be pubbed in print next month combined with Victoria's Vision, under the title Love's Magic.

Here's a sexy excerpt:

“Simon, I’ve never given a lasting thought to being anybody’s but yours. The others who tried to get my attention didn’t have a chance. Sometimes I felt quite sorry for them.”
A fleeting shadow in her eyes made him wonder if she’d at least considered one of her suitors. Still he arched his eyebrows at her ingenuous statement and then gave in to his rampaging desire. Of course other men had wanted her. But she’d chosen him and saved her body just for him. His heart soared as he looked at her loving face.
He gave up any other thought and captured her lips with his. The first touch made him fight for control. After one gasping, ‘my beautiful Troy’, there was no more conversation.
They kissed frantically, for so long that Simon feared he’d climax before he’d even begun to show her pleasure. He slowed the kissing down and gradually changed to caressing her with a patience he hadn’t known he possessed. He began to take off her clothes, wanting nothing so much as to hold her naked body against his.
She quickly realized what he wanted and helped, ripping her blouse off over her head with enthusiasm and stepping out of her skirt. Clad only in her undergarments, she kicked off her shoes and rolled down her hose. Breathtakingly lovely in only a brassiere and panties, she stood before him, so beautiful he froze as if immobile.
And simply stared.
She gave him a little shake. “Simon, what’s the matter with you? Are you going to make love with all your clothes on?” Her tone was so impatient he leaned to kiss her navel and lick her a bit before he answered.
“Your beauty mesmerizes me, my lady. I assure you I’ll be more naked than you in one second.”
It might have been more than one second, but not by much, as he threw his shirt one direction and his pants the other. Stripping off his shoes and socks took little longer, and he quickly stood before her in only his undershorts which did nothing to hide his rampaging erection. Stepping out them, his penis sprang free, large and pulsing, pointing at her as she stared and gasped.
“Blessed Merlin, I didn’t see that clearly when we were in the pool,” she whispered.
He took her in his arms and whispered back.
“Merlin has nothing to do with it. Only you. But your body took me in then and you’ll take me now. It’s the way of nature, my love.”
“Maybe,” she muttered, and he smiled and began to kiss his way down her face to her breasts. He took his time at first, savoring her soft skin in every spot he could reach, her forehead, her nose, her cheeks and her chin. Troy kept trying to twist so he’d kiss her lips, but he held her face steady with his long, strong fingers and smiled when she began to pout at not having her own way.
“Be patient, love,” he murmured.
Her neck and shoulders received equally loving attention until he could feel himself losing control. He took a deep breath, resting his forehead on her flat stomach while he mastered his raging desire to plunge into her. She’d not found true satisfaction when they were in the pool, and he determined she’d experience the ultimate joy now. After a few seconds he took one breast in his mouth. He teased the left nipple by gently dragging the pebbled tip with the links of his gold bracelet, as she gasped and pushed her breasts up for more. All while he nuzzled and sucked on the right nipple . The teasing touch of metal plus his lips seemed to drive her crazy and Troy moaned and twitched as he stimulated both nipples at once. Then his hands and mouth held her steady while he worked his sensual way lower.
She tried to keep his face on her breasts, but Simon had other plans.
When he kissed her navel she seemed to stop breathing."

An Author's Dream: Your Favorite Cover Model Day 2 Blog Tour

2012-02-02T00:00:00.000-08:00

Greetings!

Well another post by the crazed author, Sharita Lira and actually there’s now at least one other author I know who writes under more than one name. *winks at Cassandre Dayne* So now, it’s not as ludicrous. *sticks out tongue* It’s okay though, I’ve gotten used to my affectionate nickname. Anyway, what am I talking about today? Usually when I post as my legal name it’s about a serious topic but not this post. Let’s have some fun and participation since my gay male pseudo has a new book out called Vertigo under Sizzler Editions.

And guess what. What you ask? I’m giving you a chance to comment and be entered into a drawing for an ebook copy of Vertigo and or The Power of Muse and Inspiration, Michael’s last book as well as a $25 Amazon GC.

“*rubs hands together* Now, back to my post. Authors, what if you could put your favorite person on the cover of a book without the fear of being sued? For readers, understand, we as authors may be asked what that person might look like that fits our character. Often, he might be the closest to what we’ve asked for and not the person we had in mind but we have to take him because his picture is royalty free. *smiles*

Personally, I’ve been blessed with some awesome covers for all the pseudonyms, Vertigo included but you wonder,who did I have in mind when I wrote Vertigo?

When I sat down to write, this is the face that came to mind for my Doctor, Hayden Curry. It’s an old picture of my fave bass player of Duran Duran, John Taylor. Why? In my brain, my doctor has a sort of effeminate quality about him. The shirt John’s wearing looks like something Curry might have worn back in the early 1900’s, and his hair is draping over his shoulders. He would’ve made a lovely cover boy too but instead I got this man:

This model doesn’t have the same look but still a pretty face nonetheless. His name is Frances Cura and he’s popped up on quite a few covers throughout erotic romance. When I saw the cover for Vertigo, I was so excited because Frances has been a muse of mine in recent weeks and even though not the same muse for Vertigo, he’s still hot. *winks* Needless to say, I’m in love with my Frances cover as well as the book Vertigo itself. Hope you’ll give it a chance and check it out. Comment and you can win your own copy!

Please comment and you could win a copy of the book or my last book, ironically, the vampire short, Power of Muse and be entered into the drawing for an Amazon GC worth $25 dollars.

Hope you enjoyed the post and see you on the other stops of the tour.

Booktrailer

Buylink

After losing his lover to mental disorder, Dr. Hayden Curry throws himself into work, silently wishing he could experience something extraordinary in love. He finds his match in David, a creature Hayden revives after discovering him and hauling him back to his lab. Upon awakening, David asks Dr. Hayden’s help in discovering more about himself. Hayden agrees but senses secrets in David. Will he get to the bottom of things and be able to continue the special relationship he and David have, or will the secrets that come forward tear them apart?

Before I went to my haven, I glanced outside my window. Outside, the rainfall reduced to a drizzle, coupled by slow moving clouds over the moonlight. The trees blew after only a few gusts of winds, ripped the leaves off and made quite a mess on the grass underneath.

These would be the nights I would cherish with him most. After relishing in the afterglows of new inventions and glasses of wine, there were mind blowing affections to follow.

Such a good lover…

Once I got to my place of work, I immediately began searching for the vials I had for the latest concoction. When I did not see them, I lost my head rather quickly.

“Where on God’s green earth,” I screamed and walked from one end of my laboratory to the other. "Where are those samples I just had? Libertina!"

Immediately, the pale and slim maiden with dark hair ran to my aid.

"Yes sir, have you lost something again, sir?"

"I have Libertina. The tubes I examined the night before. They seemed to…oh."

Within moments, my dearest uncovered the missing necessities I searched for, right underneath my novel, The Bounded Scientist.

I shrunk back and smiled wryly. "Thank you Libertina, ahem, that will be all my sweet."

"Yes sir, if there is anything you need, I'll be tending to your clothes, sir." Quickly, she curtsied and scurried off, closing the door behind her.

Ah, what a fine young maiden I have. If I were more attracted to the ladies, then I might give her go, but only gentlemen tickled my fancy these days.

I could not be that upset even in this pitiful state. Not that many people understood me when they came to know me. Throughout the years, many thought they should have thrown me in the local mental ward because of the ideas I'd had.

Nevertheless, my determination and visions had made me one of the most recognizable names in London, apart from the fact I inherited my father's large fortune.

Still, even with all the money and notoriety, I had always felt something was missing from my life. I longed for something new to happen. Whether it was a new discovery or invention it had to be different from what I had already seen.

I looked at the experiment I had been working on for seemingly weeks in disgust. Things hadn’t been the same anyway since Lawrence departed but I was determined to move on with my life’s work despite what happened to him. I had to hold on to the hope he would return.

After around the fifteenth trial of not receiving my desired result, I retreated to my bedroom to sleep. Unlike times before, I decided not to read before bed but instead lay there until my eyes got too heavy.

I hoped the nightmares would not start again since after they occurred I stayed awake staring at the ceilings of my room, often needing a drink of the alcoholic variety to put me to rest. I felt myself becoming rather dependent on the beverages. Certainly, doing this sort of thing would cloud my senses and not allow me to function properly. Many men of science I knew had become like this and I refused to become one of them.

I’ll never.

I always reassured myself that I wouldn’t continue to down this dangerous path, however, everyday, being alone with only yourself to talk with could be a detriment to one’s mental state.

Although fully capable of doing everyday things, I’d come to accept that I was different. After all, for one, I wasn’t attracted to women. Two, I enjoyed reading more than being outside playing in games.

In fact my mom would frequently say that she wished I’d be like “normal” boys and go play ball instead of reading. This from the same woman who didn’t know how to read until after she birthed me. With the help of my caregiver, I taught myself how to read the written word thus showed my mum in the process. Still, even afterwards, she didn’t consider it as an important skill. “I’ve always had people to do things like read for me,” she said, giving illiteracy credence. Totally absurd but true.

If I wasn’t able to read and learn I might die.

Such is true of me, Doctor Hayden Curry. I preferred to have my mind stimulated before anything else. This isn’t saying that I didn’t enjoy the sins of the flesh because I did, but, books were like gold to me, more important than any penny I owned. I’d inherited most of it which allowed me to live the lavish lifestyle and work on experiments instead of seeing patients to cure their ailments. I wasn’t interested in short term solutions anyway. I wanted results that could change the world and mankind forever.

BIO: Michael Mandrake is a BRIT!

A 39 year old Brummie who loves to write tales of love and romance between two men that aren't afraid to show their sexuality. At least that's what this 39 year old mom from the US thinks he is. They talk on a regular basis, Sharita and her muse.

Now for the truth, Sharita, who also writes under Rawiya and BLMorticia is a happily married mom of 2 who loves everything about British culture and hopes to visit someday.

Michael M is her most successful pseudonym. To date, he is the only muse with 3 sole author books, 2 more coming before the end of 2012. He’s contracted through XOXO publishing, Sizzler Editions, No Boundaries Press, and does shorts through STARbooks Press. Michael shares Sharita's love for writing tales where the characters are comfortable with their sexuality and the plots are more of a mainstream romance as opposed to m/m. They aren't perfect and cross into new territory, resolving their struggles through communication coupled with mind blowing sex.

At the moment, Mandrake’s books are only small steps into what’s to come. Look for longer works from Sharita and the muse, Michael very soon.

The Literary Triad - http://www.thelitriad.com/#!

The Literary Triad on FB - https://www.facebook.com/TheLiteraryTriad
Michael Mandrake - http://tabooindeed.blogspot.com

Twitter - http://twitter.com/#!/rawiyamikembl

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/AuthorSharitaLira

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What Makes A Kiss Amazing?

2012-02-01T00:01:00.000-08:00

In a romance, the leading characters share a spark they aren’t able to experience with anyone else. F/M, F/F, M/M, MFM or any combination thereof, a quality kiss signals to those involved that they belong together. Is the perfect kiss a flight of fancy that can only be realized in the pages of a novel, screenplay, movie or (if you’re really, really lucky) in real life? Or, is the explanation to be found in warm hard (pun intended) science?

I’m sure it depends on who you ask. I went searching for scientific answers to explain the perfect kiss and stumbled upon some very interesting facts. In her book, The Science of Kissing: What Our Lips Are Telling Us, Sheril Kirshenbaum reports that kissing releases a sort of chemical cocktail in our brains. Dopamine, oxytocin, serotonin norepinephrine and epinephrine all contribute to a stellar kiss.

Have you ever felt high after being kissed? That’s the neurotransmitter dopamine and it can be quite addictive. During a kiss, oxytocin increases in the body creating feelings of attachment and bonding. Serotonin influences feelings of obsession with your partner and norepinephrine contributes that weak knee feeling. Every great kiss should speed up your heart rate and make you sweat, at least a little. This is a sign of epinephrine at work in your body.

Heck, men even transfer testosterone to their partners during a kiss. This helps to prime their make out buddy for more sexy high jinks post kiss. I guess when people say, “We have great chemistry,” they aren’t kidding.

So when you’re describing the hot, weak limbed, can’t get enough closeness you experience during and after kissing your significant other to a best girl or guy friend- for the tenth time- you can also explain that your preoccupation is completely natural.

What is the best part of a kiss for you? Is it excitement, closeness, breathless jitters or some other aspect of a kiss that makes it perfect? Leave a comment. I would love to discuss kiss perfection with you.

Stormie

http://www.stormiekent.com

http://twitter.com/StormieKent/

http://www.facebook.com/stormie.kent

Author Bio

Stormie Kent is the author of romance with science-fiction, paranormal and contemporary elements. The universe she has envisioned for her erotic sci-fi romances are filled with warrior men and the women who fiercely love them. Space pirates abound with dueling goals of stealing your credits and your life or stealing villain credits and freeing the slaves of the United Universe. Stormie has imagined a world where the hostile alien invasion of the third planet from the Sun forces each surviving resident of a fractured Earth to seize their destiny or perish. Her first book, Enslaved in Desire, is available now.

Guest blog with Tracey Kitts

2012-01-31T02:00:00.000-08:00

Put a little umph in it

I get asked fairly often, as I’m sure other authors do, “Why do you write about that stuff?” Meaning one of a few specific things, “Why do I write about werewolves/vampires?” or “Why do you write romance?” or more specific, “Why do you write about sex?”

It amazes me that in the society we now live, people are so afraid of the subject. Sex is not a bad thing. I truly believe that both sex and romance are healthy and for one to work out right you really need the other. But, that’s just my perspective. As I have often said, I write what I enjoy. I also get asked, “Where do you get your ideas?” That’s a tough question, considering my ideas come from everywhere. I don’t think most people realize how difficult this one is to answer. They probably also don’t realize how they look at me like I’m a nut when I try to explain. Ha. Ha.

A good portion of my ideas comes from my dreams. Literally. I don’t mean my hopes and ambitions, I mean those little movies that play in my head when I sleep. (Another reason why I’m angry when I don’t get enough rest.) If it weren’t for my dreams, some of my best scenes would never have been written. Dreaming about something gives me the remarkable pleasure of being able to live it from the inside out. I believe that being able to tell a story as if you’ve lived it makes all the difference in the world.

For example, with my latest release Frank and The Werewolf Tamer, I saw every aspect of our hero, Frank. I envisioned him in all of his perfection, felt the heat rising from his skin, felt the stubble of an unshaved beard against his face. If you can’t close your eyes and visualize characters this way, how can you ever expect the reader to do so? By the time I put a character onto the page, I can tell you what his kiss tastes like and whether or not he needs moisturizer on his hands.

I don’t believe in just taking an idea and writing about it. I believe in taking an idea and putting a little umph in it.

You can find out more about Tracey at www.traceyhkitts.com

Her latest release is Frank and The Werewolf Tamer, an erotic paranormal romance, available exclusively on Amazon Kindle.

Purchase Link: http://www.amazon.com/Frank-Werewolf-Tamer-ebook/dp/B006PU2JBW/ref=ntt_at_ep_dpt_7

Guest Post with Karen Booth

2012-01-30T02:00:00.000-08:00

Tempting Brits, Dual POV, and Getting Dragged From the Mud

Karen Stivali and I have been critique partners for just under two years. Our co-authored erotic romance, Long-Distance Lovers, will be out in February from Ellora’s Cave. Karen and I talked about co-writing since we first began working together, but we didn’t find time until we were both in the throws of the submission process with our first full-length novels.

Other writers and friends have asked how we handled the mechanics of co-authoring. We started with good old-fashioned brainstorming (via instant message, that’s the non-old-fashioned part). We both like complex characters, so the starting point was Tim and Jenna. After that, it was a matter of getting to know them and their back-stories, how they would meet, what their difficulties would be, and how they would fall in love.

We knew we wanted Tim to be a musician and we had to make him British as we both have a preoccupation with Brits. Tim’s physical attributes came quickly—we both had the same type in mind. His personality embodies much of what Karen and I adore about British men. There’s no denying a sensitive bloke with a quick wit and an enthusiastic sex drive. It’s very appealing.

Jenna, our heroine, came together in an uncanny way, both of us drawn to eerily similar traits for her, on our own. Jenna’s very strong, but there’s a real vulnerability to her because of her past. That’s part of what Tim is attracted to, but that also becomes a stumbling block when things fall apart.

In terms of the writing, we went with dual POV. Karen S wrote Tim’s parts and I wrote Jenna’s. We alternated as we went—she would write one scene, I would write the next scene and so on. When one of us came up with a new plot point, we inserted it into a shared master plan to keep track of where the story was going.

One of the best things about co-authoring is having the chance to bounce ideas off someone who not only knows the story as well as you do, but also has as much emotionally invested in it. When you get stuck, there’s that other person there to drag you out of the mud.

Blurb for Long-Distance Lovers:

British musician Tim Wentworth trades his London flat for an apartment in NYC so he can record with a promising American band, but when he arrives in Manhattan he learns that the gig has been canceled. With no job and a two month stay in the States he wonders if the whole trip has been a waste of time, until he meets the charming and talented jewelry designer, Jenna Bradford. 

Unlike the groupies who throw themselves at Tim after shows, Jenna couldn’t be less impressed by his music credentials. Bad experiences have caused her to have a strict “no musicians” policy. When Tim rescues Jenna from the advances of an obnoxious drunk they strike up a friendship that in spite of her rules, turns into a passionate affair full of intense and unexpected emotions. As they try to find a way to prolong their time together, a family tragedy forces Tim to return to England. Jenna and Tim must each decide how far they’re willing to go to see if their whirlwind romance can lead to a lifetime of love.

You can learn more about Karen Stivali at http://karenstivali.com

You can learn more about Karen Booth at http://karenbooth.net

Karen S and Karen B also maintain a site at http://thekarens.com

http://www.jasminejade.com/p-9719-long-distance-lovers.aspx

Guest blog with Tea Trelawyn

2012-01-29T02:00:00.000-08:00

Have a Little Story with Your Erotica

It’s just porn for women—that’s what some people say about erotic romance stories. As a writer of erotic romances, I protest. Porn is written for the purpose of titillation. It is usually one sex scene after another, strung together with the thinnest strands of story—if any. There is no emotional attachment between the characters.

On the other hand, erotic romance so carefully intertwines love scenes and story plot that the two can’t be separated. The characters feel more than lust for each other—although that is a major element—and that emotional connection shows in their lovemaking. They might not fall in love for happily-ever-after, but their relationship will resolve in a way that is satisfying for them as well as readers. And the sex scenes are not only hot, but romantic.

The main plot of my paranormal erotic romance series of novelettes, Moon Racers, revolves around a series of deaths that have occurred wherever this coven of motorcycle racing Texas vampires travels. The men in the coven were each turned through a virus passed on by their sires. As long as they remain together, they can live pretty much as normal men—except for greater strength, longer lives and their need to consume blood. But anyone who tries to leave the coven endures intense pain as well as an insatiable thirst to live feed—whether the donor is willing or not.

In the first book of Moon Racers, Start Your Engines, Cherry Lee discovers that the love of her life, who supposedly died in a fiery motorcycle crash, is alive…sort of. Rory Shaw is a vampire, turned the night of his accident. He almost killed a woman shortly after his turning and so has avoided Cherry. But now that she’s found him again, can he resist the woman who holds his heart, especially when she turns up the heat and sparks his insatiable appetite for her flesh…and blood? And what about the mysterious deaths that have occurred near Moon Racers events? Although they appear to be accidents, the fact that each body was drained of blood is suspicious and alarming.

In book two, Lay It Down, Kei Lee and Cameron Shaw share a past filled with lovemaking to the extreme. But Cam's racing career drove them apart. Now Kei is back in Cam's life, looking for her sister, Cherry. Cam has the information...and a secret. Will Kei accept his vampire nature and return to his arms on a permanent basis? Or will a possible killer part them for eternity?

As of now, I plan two more novelettes in the Moon Racers series, featuring a different sexy couple in each book. The mysterious ‘accidents’ will draw ever closer to the coven until the truth is revealed. Interwoven with this suspenseful plot will be plenty of explicit love scenes that live up to the genre of erotic romance.

Téa Trelawny

www.teatrelawyn.com

Start Your Engines:

Amazon http://tinyurl.com/3rfd3wa

Barnes and Noble http://tinyurl.com/3bfpygw

Smashwords http://tinyurl.com/3z8q259

Lay It Down:

Amazon: http://tinyurl.com/c2k7ozt

B&N: http://tinyurl.com/cfkgom3

Smash Words: http://tinyurl.com/bvkng74