You know, it occurred to me I’ve never shouted out about my print book Dangerous Affairs. It’s a print anthology of BLIND HER WITH BLISS, DECEIVE HER WITH DESIRE and CHEAT HER WITH CHARM.
I thought I’d share some of my favorite lines from these stories:
BLIND HER WITH BLISS:
1. The loss of her best friend had ripped away a piece of her heart and Julie doubted the ache it left in its wake would ever subside.
2. Wind whistled past the tinted visor of Damon Corey’s helmet, but it couldn’t muffle the roar of the chrome dual exhaust. Noise equaled power, and at the moment, he had both.
3. If you’re looking for the person I was last night, well, you’re in for a big surprise. He’s as fake as Santa Claus.”
The tip of her tongue darted out to wet her full lips. “I still believe in Santa Claus.”
She would.
4. Until she understood how Damon, Jason and Elvis were connected—-and Julie did believe they all knew each other—-she would troll the waters of Damon’s sexual past with caution. No sense baiting a shark without the right equipment to catch him.
DECEIVE HER WITH DESIRE:
5. “I did a nice job? Me? You were the one sneaking up like some pirate looking for lost treasure.”
The woman had no idea how close to the truth she was.
6. “We’ll get the drug arrest straightened out, Dee. Don’t worry,” said Julie.
And just like that the family unit solidified as the Tilling clan circled the wagons.
7. “Too much vending machine coffee and not enough sleep.” He popped a couple of tablets. Yeah, not even close to the truth. The fact was, when the Jameson deal went down, there was no way Ayden was going to be able to walk away from the sexy redhead who’d crawled into his bed and wrapped herself around his heart.
CHEAT HER WITH CHARM:
8. Meghan Tilling’s body quaked with fear and the bone-chilling thirty-eight degrees of the cooler where she was trapped. She pressed her forehead against the icy metal of the door, her palm caressing its pebbled surface, trying to fight the panic lurking like a sinister shadow and threatening to overwhelm her in despair.
9. Peter had lied to Meghan about staying put in a hotel today. He’d lied to the guy at the rental counter at the airport about a family emergency just to get one of the last four wheel drive vehicles left in the lot. More importantly, he’d lied to himself that this whole damn catastrophe-waiting-to-happen wasn’t going to derail his relationship with his fiancée.
10. She wasn’t sure how it sounded, but Peter’s own embarrassment and hurt added to the confusion clouding their discussion. “I didn’t say that. I—”
“No, you didn’t say anything. Your expression says it all.”
“Peter, if it’s something you want to try, I’m willing to—”
“Forget it.” Peter held up his hands as if to shield himself from her judgment. “I just thought it might be fun to try something different.” He backed away from her. “You’re right. It’s not something normal couples do. Seriously, just forget I mentioned it.”
11. And though Peter loved his fiancée with a fierceness that clawed at his soul, lately even Meghan’s love couldn’t fill the growing chasm in his heart. He wanted it to. God, how he’d tried to ignore the gnawing in his gut–the cold emptiness that was sated only when Meghan was in his arms.
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I’d like to welcome erotic romance author Afton Locke. By day, Afton Locke is technical, but by night she swims in the mystical world of dreams. Intrigued by all things unexplained, like ghosts and karma, she delights in spinning dark, sensual stories that pull readers below the surface of everyday (and sometimes boring) life to the depths of forbidden fantasy.
What else would you expect from someone with her moon in Pisces and Neptune in Scorpio? She lives in the mountains with her husband, dog, and spooky black cat.
Her newest release, Plucking the Pearl, is available at Ellora’s Cave
BLURB:
When Pearl’s sheltered life shatters in the 1930s when her mother dies, her only option is to move in with poor family relations and shuck oysters in the local plant on Oyster Island, Maryland.
Determined to live a morally proper life, the last thing she wants is an affair with a white man, but Caleb, the plant owner, knows a pearl when he sees one. The successful widower is the “oyster king” of the island, but his intense desire for his forbidden new employee, a woman of color, threatens everything he’s built.
What begins as a private sexual liaison flowers into strong feelings that don’t fit the social mores of the island. When their secret is discovered, they risk losing everything. They dared to pluck the pearl, but will their love be strong enough to keep it forever?
EXCERPT:
Copyright © AFTON LOCKE, 2012
All Rights Reserved, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.
“You’re standing awfully close,” she whispered.
“I am, aren’t I?” he whispered back. “Do you want me to move?”
Yes! No! Oh Lord, help me. I’ve never felt so weak.
“Show me the next step—with the oyster, that is,” she said quickly.
“Certainly.” He gripped her hand around the knife again and made deft movements to cut the meat from the shell. “Cut here and there. That’s all there is to it.”
“You make it look so simple,” she said, realizing he could pull her out of her shell just as easily.
When he stepped away from her, her legs nearly gave out. It was as if the hardness that had been nestled against her was the only thing that had been keeping her standing upright in front of the table.
He stepped beside her and she watched, fascinated, as he tipped the oyster half with the meat on it to his mouth. Watching the wet creature slide past the dark hairs of his moustache intrigued her in a way she couldn’t explain.
When he bent forward to kiss her, she was too aroused to refuse. His pale blue eyes came closer than they ever had and all she could do was stare helplessly into them. It was as if she floated higher and higher into the sky, never to set foot on firm earth again.
She felt his moustache first, hot and coarse, and then his lips, cooler and wetter. As his mouth worked over hers, something pushed between her lips. His tongue? She met it with hers, stroking with an abandon she refused to acknowledge as her own.
He tasted of the sea. No, not just one tongue. Two? She was too distracted by the heat boiling through her belly to care. When he removed his mouth, she realized he’d put the oyster inside her mouth.
Without thinking, she spit it out and it landed on the floor.
Caleb tipped his head back and laughed. It was a beautiful man’s laugh, musical and deep. Unfortunately she didn’t feel very amused.
“Now Ernie would have a fit if he saw you messed up his clean floor,” he said. “I take it you don’t care for oysters.”
She crossed her arms. “No, I don’t. I thought you had swallowed it. And you shouldn’t have kissed me.”
He wiped his hand on one of the clean rags nearby and she did the same. Then he leaned an elbow against the table and looked at her.
“Why not, honey? We’re not married.”
“In case you haven’t noticed,” she said, “we’re not the same color—or social class, for that matter. You’re the owner of this establishment and I’m just a poor—”
He put two fingers to her lips to quiet her. The lingering scent of oysters drifted from them, making her breathe faster. She was beginning to like oysters…
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I’d like to welcome guest romance blogger, Phyllis Campbell.
Heart thumping, palms moist, she settles her shaky fingers on the keyboard. Millions of thoughts run through her mind, those that aren’t very good…at least that’s what her momma had told her as a young girl. Squeezing her eyes closed, pictures of half-naked men float through her mind and her mouth turns dry. SEX! No, it couldn’t be time to write the sex scene, could it? Her religious leader would certainly kick her out of church for fear of a bolt of lighting spearing down from heaven. What about her parents? Would her own husband disown her? Her poor children would have to walk down the streets with their head ducked from now on.
But she’s a romance writer. It needs to be written!
She swallows the lump of fear lodged in her throat and takes a deep breath. Once her eyes are open, she focuses on her story. Reminding herself it’s a natural thing, she proceeds, her fingers fly across the keyboard as if they had a mind of their own. His masculine scent of leather and spice fills the air, consuming every breath she takes. In her head, the scene unfolds, the hero sweeps the heroine off into another world where seduction and passion rule. Seeking fingers, curious kisses…
The more she writes, the wider her grin spreads. Her heart now beats a different rhythm. Her palms are moist for entirely different reasons this time. And in her chest…love grows. This excitement is the thrill she needs –the energy that gives her the courage to continue and not be afraid.
I don’t know about most writers, but I’ve certainly experienced this a time or two (or three or four) since I first started writing. Those who don’t read romance stories label us as ‘smut’ writers. All we think about is sex – twenty-four hours a day. My husband tells me this numerous times…and it isn’t for flattery. (grin) But there’s a bigger picture. The overall picture that nobody sees but romance writers. We aren’t writing about sex – we’re writing about love.
I write Sensual…don’t you just love that word? It rolls across your tongue like a lover’s passionate kiss. Makes you want to deepen your voice in a sexy tone, lower your lids half-mast and part your mouth. Maybe even swipe your tongue across your dry lips…
Okay, I’m getting carried away again. I need to get back to the point of this article. As a writer, when will you know it’s time to write the sex scene? I can’t believe how many times I’ve been asked this question. Do you know what I say? My answer is this… Listen to your characters. Between them and the theme of the story, that will tell you when. For my stories, my characters must have some kind of attraction between them, and as the story progresses, this attraction becomes the theme of my story. I LOVE to tease the reader—and yes, my poor characters get affected as well. They want it. Badly. They almost get it, but then something happens to make it not happen. Pretty soon they’re playing that sensual, teasing dance again and even take it a little farther…but just before they get what they want, it’s snatched right from under them. Finally I’ve created the build-up. I’ve made my reader WANT it to happen as much as my characters do. So now it’s time… Or is it? Like I said earlier, the characters are really the ones who’ll let you know when they’re ready. And when they are… WATCH OUT! It’s a fun ride for all!
Now let me tell you about an awesome Christmas anthology titled – “A Summons from His Grace.” This has three short stories, but it gets better. It’s part of a four-part collection. There is also “A Summons from Yorkshire”, and “A Summons from The Castle”, and “A Summons from The Duke.” The cool thing about this is our characters are all related. The Duke of Danby has summoned his children and grandchildren to Danby Castle for Christmas. Each story tells about those who made the trek—and why—and how they fell in love.
Please enjoy this EXCERPT:
As much as Calvin knew she really shouldn’t be in his room, he was reluctant to tell her to leave. Being close to her like this reminded him of how he enjoyed touching her—how he had cherished their first kiss and couldn’t wait for another one.
And here she stood in her nightrail. It was as if the stars aligned perfectly in the heavens and fate was on his side, because even the companion wouldn’t be disturbing their privacy tonight.
“Calvin, you shouldn’t say such a thing.” The tone of her voice wasn’t as sharp as it had been moments ago.
“I can’t help it. With you so near, it makes me want to touch you.” He bent his head closer to hers while his hands continued to hold her face.
She clutched his hands, and for a second he thought she meant to remove them. But she didn’t. Desire coated her blue eyes as they rested on his mouth. His heart jerked. She wanted this as badly as he did, despite her words earlier. Perhaps she was as confused as he was. But unlike Dorothy, when Calvin became confused, he didn’t cover it with anger.
He brushed his lips across hers. Hesitating…prolonging the excitement building inside his body.
“Calvin,” she whispered. “Why are you doing this to me?”
Smiling, he slid his hands down her neck as he rubbed his cheek against hers. “Pray, tell me what exactly I’m doing?”
She closed her eyes. “You’re making me want things that aren’t possible. You’re bringing my body alive, something that’s never happened to me.”
He kissed her eyelids. “Dorothy, my lovely, this is a new experience for me as well.” He slid his lips across her cheek again. “Because my body has never burned so much for a woman.”
A small moan came from her as she searched for his mouth with hers. When their lips met, he crushed her in his arms, kissing her soundly. Her arms hooked over his shoulders as she held him tight.
He caressed his tongue with hers, and she responded so passionately it nearly had him dropping to his knees. Moving a hand between their bodies, he cupped her breast, which elicited another moan from her. Under his palm, her nipple beaded, and he became aware of just how naked she was under this gown. Eager for more, he broke the kiss to move his lips over her chin and down her throat.
“This should be wrong, but it feels too good,” she muttered.
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Phyllis Campbell is an award-winning, multi-published and best-selling author of romance; from the dark and mysterious hero who sends shivers up your spine to the feisty heroines who somehow manage to keep them in line. She’s been published with several small presses since 2006. Most of her reviewers have given her the title of “Queen Of Sexual Tension”. Married with kids (and three grandchildren), Phyllis has lived in Utah all of her life and enjoys family activities when she’s not writing her next sensual story.
I’d like to welcome Francesca Hawley. Her newest release ALPHA VS ALPHA is available from our publisher, Ellora’s Cave. Take it away Francesca …
Thank you Nina. One of my favorite tropes for paranormal romance is that of “fated mates.” I have heard from other readers that they absolutely hate it because it removes all the conflict from the story because readers then know the two characters have to end up together.
Well, heck…I write romance. In romance it’s a given that your hero and heroine (or protagonists of whatever gender and number) will end up together. So that’s a non-starter. Now, I will grant that an author can skip over some of the relationship conflict because the two main characters have to end up together. But that’s a conflict in, and of, itself because what if one—or both—don’t want to be in the relationship. Such is the case with Serena Goldwolf , the heroine of Alpha vs. Alpha.
In her whole life, Serena has never heard her parents argue. It looks to her as though her mother always kowtows to her father’s edicts. He’s an alpha shapeshifter male. The head of a pack. Therefore, his word is law. Serena has no intention of living her life that way. She loves her mother, but doesn’t want to be her.
Damien Blackwolf has never indicated to Serena that he wants her to turn into a “yes-bitch” who does exactly what he says without a murmur to the contrary. He just wants her to acknowledge their True Mate status. A full out battle of wills ensues over the issue. Serena is afraid acknowledging their connection means that she has to give up herself—and her very soul—in order to be with Damien. Damien wants her just the way she is—a spit and vinegar alpha female.
I initially wrote this story for another publisher back in 2005 and I had a lot of fun reworking this story for Ellora’s Cave. I was able to tighten the story and strengthen the growing connection between Serena and Damien. Damien remains one of my favorite alpha male heroes and Serena gives just as good as she gets.
So what do you think of the “fated mates” storyline that’s often used in paranormal romance? Love it? Hate it? Any recommended reading?
BLURB:
Alpha female Serena Goldwolf has spent a lifetime vowing never to be a submissive mate to any Alpha male. But all it takes is one surprisingly sexual meeting with Damien Blackwolf, a dissatisfied client of her shapeshifter dating site Predator-Match.com, and she is down on all fours, wanting to be mounted by the hottest male on two legs—or four—whom she’s ever met.
Damien Blackwolf doesn’t understand why the voluptuous Serena won’t admit they’re True Mates. To convince her, he decides to bring out her baser desires by dragging her off to someplace private to get to know her…intimately. But how can he convince her of their destiny when she refuses to acknowledge their True Mate connection and runs away from him? Guess he’ll just have to hunt her down and persuade her.
In a passionate battle of wills, there most definitely can be two winners.
Publisher’s Note: Previously published elsewhere but has been revised and expanded for Ellora’s Cave.
EXCERPT:
Chapter One
“What the hell kind of outfit is this?”
Serena Goldwolf’s head shot up at the irate shout coming from the outer office of her shapeshifter matchmaking business, Predator-Match.com. She brushed her bangs off her forehead with a sigh. Damn it, couldn’t anyone in this office take care of stuff without her intervention?
The male voice continued to roar out there, and she knew her secretary wouldn’t be able to handle him because Kara was such an omega even omega males dominated her. Serena sighed again, saved her database update and headed out to confront the wolf male jerk. Serena took in the male outrage with a shake of her head. Asshole. He shook his head as if he’d heard her. Yeah right. She wished.
“I’m sorry, sir. Really.” Kara huddled in her chair, her head dipped and her eyes on her desktop. Submission in her posture and her voice.
“You people set me up with some stalker bitch! I want to talk to one of the owners, now.” A tall black-haired man with dark-brown eyes leaned on the desk, his large hands flat on the wood.
Serena took him in, her body responding immediately. Damn it. She didn’t need this shit, but she couldn’t take her eyes off him. He wore a very expensive, black Italian suit, Italian black leather loafers, a crisp white shirt and red tie. The ultimate in power wear for the busy executive. And he was so good-looking he resembled an escapee from Fashion Week. She shook her head to remind herself that he wasn’t all that…he was just a wolf like any other.
Heads hung out of office doors, watching the confrontation with enjoyment, yet no one came to Kara’s rescue. Probably glad to be out of firing range themselves…that’s what she got for hiring betas. The females all wanted him and the males would jump to follow his orders.
Female musk clogged the air. Especially from Lea Redcat, one of her business partners. Predator-Match.com was damn successful. To the outside world, their site looked like a zoo animal match service. To the shapeshifter community, it was a way to find a lover or a life partner. Since Lea was allowing this thing to escalate, it looked like Serena to the rescue. Again.
“I’m really sorry, sir. We do our best to match our clients up with the best fit for them.” Kara cringed lower behind her desk and wouldn’t meet the man’s eyes. Typical omega posture. The male frowned.
“Are you saying you think I deserve a psycho bitch as my Mate?” His quiet voice seemed to scare Kara more than his shouting had because she backed up. It wouldn’t be long before she crawled under her desk.
“No s-s-sir,” Kara stammered.
Damn that bastard. He was done scaring Kara. Unable to suppress her temper, Serena growled. His gaze flashed to her and she felt it all the way to her womb. Damn but he was hot. Life was just not fair.
She challenged him—head up, shoulders back—inspecting him from top to bottom and allowing her gaze to linger, as if she were checking for fleas. His shoulders were broad and filled his Italian suit to perfection. His broad chest narrowed to athletic hips, and she would bet money that his belly sported a six-pack, and not of the beer variety. He had the kind of face that artists wanted to sculpt and women wanted to sit on. His eyes were the piece de resistance—large, dark brown and thick-lashed beneath perfectly arched brows.
In short, he was a god—or a male model. This was the kind of male who never looked twice at Serena because she wasn’t tall and thin, or tiny and doll-like. She had yet to meet a male wolf who wanted a woman with curves, but this kind of wolf was the worst. These wolves wanted trophy bitches.
“Who are you?” His voice cut the air like a knife.
She lifted her chin when the bastard stared her down. How dare he try to intimidate her? She was an alpha female, damn it!
Serena Goldwolf’s head shot up at the irate shout coming from the outer office of her shapeshifter matchmaking business, Predator-Match.com. She brushed her bangs off her forehead with a sigh. Damn it, couldn’t anyone in this office take care of stuff without her intervention?
The male voice continued to roar out there, and she knew her secretary wouldn’t be able to handle him because Kara was such an omega even omega males dominated her. Serena sighed again, saved her database update and headed out to confront the wolf male jerk. Serena took in the male outrage with a shake of her head. Asshole. He shook his head as if he’d heard her. Yeah right. She wished.
“I’m sorry, sir. Really.” Kara huddled in her chair, her head dipped and her eyes on her desktop. Submission in her posture and her voice.
“You people set me up with some stalker bitch! I want to talk to one of the owners, now.” A tall black-haired man with dark-brown eyes leaned on the desk, his large hands flat on the wood.
Serena took him in, her body responding immediately. Damn it. She didn’t need this shit, but she couldn’t take her eyes off him. He wore a very expensive, black Italian suit, Italian black leather loafers, a crisp white shirt and red tie. The ultimate in power wear for the busy executive. And he was so good-looking he resembled an escapee from Fashion Week. She shook her head to remind herself that he wasn’t all that…he was just a wolf like any other.
Heads hung out of office doors, watching the confrontation with enjoyment, yet no one came to Kara’s rescue. Probably glad to be out of firing range themselves…that’s what she got for hiring betas. The females all wanted him and the males would jump to follow his orders.
Female musk clogged the air. Especially from Lea Redcat, one of her business partners. Predator-Match.com was damn successful. To the outside world, their site looked like a zoo animal match service. To the shapeshifter community, it was a way to find a lover or a life partner. Since Lea was allowing this thing to escalate, it looked like Serena to the rescue. Again.
“I’m really sorry, sir. We do our best to match our clients up with the best fit for them.” Kara cringed lower behind her desk and wouldn’t meet the man’s eyes. Typical omega posture. The male frowned.
“Are you saying you think I deserve a psycho bitch as my Mate?” His quiet voice seemed to scare Kara more than his shouting had because she backed up. It wouldn’t be long before she crawled under her desk.
“No s-s-sir,” Kara stammered.
Damn that bastard. He was done scaring Kara. Unable to suppress her temper, Serena growled. His gaze flashed to her and she felt it all the way to her womb. Damn but he was hot. Life was just not fair.
She challenged him—head up, shoulders back—inspecting him from top to bottom and allowing her gaze to linger, as if she were checking for fleas. His shoulders were broad and filled his Italian suit to perfection. His broad chest narrowed to athletic hips, and she would bet money that his belly sported a six-pack, and not of the beer variety. He had the kind of face that artists wanted to sculpt and women wanted to sit on. His eyes were the piece de resistance—large, dark brown and thick-lashed beneath perfectly arched brows.
In short, he was a god—or a male model. This was the kind of male who never looked twice at Serena because she wasn’t tall and thin, or tiny and doll-like. She had yet to meet a male wolf who wanted a woman with curves, but this kind of wolf was the worst. These wolves wanted trophy bitches.
“Who are you?” His voice cut the air like a knife.
She lifted her chin when the bastard stared her down. How dare he try to intimidate her? She was an alpha female, damn it!
I’d like to welcome my guest Marie Rose Dufour, whose debut novel was released just this month. Welcome Marie!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“So what type of romances do you write?”
A writer asked me while we were getting together for dinner. This question always has me shaking in my shoes. You never know how people are going to react to the answer.
“I write erotica.”
A nervous laugh went around the table.
“Hmm…It’s always the sweetest looking ones who write erotica.”
So here is a question. Do writers of certain genres look a particular way? I think it’s like saying all phone sex operators look the girls in the commercials. What should an erotic romance author look like? Should I prance around the house in a black leather dominatrix outfit, cracking my whip, making my husband call me, Mistress? Although it might be a fantasy of my husband’s (don’t get any ideas Mr. Marie), it’s not going to happen. I’m sure I’m not bursting anyone’s bubble here but I’m usually writing in my yoga pants and a t-shirt.
Writers are regular people who just gravitate towards a particular genre. Barring Stephen King (who is probably a very nice person but definitely looks like he should be writing horror), you really can’t tell who writes what by looking at them.
In order to be a better writer, you have to write what you’re passionate about. Speaking for myself, I’ve always loved romances. Maybe, my love of romance comes from my mother who is never without a Harlequin Romance novel in her purse; or blame it on Disney fairy tales like Snow White or Sleeping Beauty.
Whatever or whoever is “to blame”, it has made me a better writer because “Happily Ever After” is a passion of mine. It may not always happen in real life but it will always happen a t the end of my books.
Finally, why erotica? You’ll just have to read between the lines on that one and read the books. 😉
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Marie’s book, Fated Mates is available through Secret Cravings Publishing
We know that we are no longer alone in the universe. Descendants of Earthly ancestors have returned to find the other halves of themselves, their destined mates.
Dragon, a scarred Serralian warrior drawn to the planet of his ancestors, never believed the Goddess had a mate for him but no matter what he believes, he’s unable to resist the pull of the planet deep within in soul.
Liz, a curvy teacher who escaped an abusive marriage three years earlier is afraid to take another chance on love. Tired of being a bystander in her own love life, she participates in an ancient ritual to identify Serralian mates. Taking that chance changes her life forever. Can these two people overcome their pasts to become each other’s true Fated Mates?
EXCERPT:
Liz woke up with the sounds of waves crashing in her ears. Confident of the lack of beachfront property within her condo, she wondered what destiny had in mind for her now. She sat up looking around at her surroundings. Lying under a beautiful canopy tent draped with yards and yards of gauzy royal blue material swaying gently in the breeze, and keeping the rays of the sun from beating down on her body. Liz ran her hands over the bedding beneath her. It felt softer and smoother than the highest count Egyptian cotton sheets bought in Bed, Bath, and Beyond.
The beautiful beach reminded her of pictures of exquisite Caribbean beaches with turquoise waves and miles and miles of powdery white sand. The gentle breezes lightly ruffled her hair as she walked down the beach to the edge of the water which rose up to meet her feet, tickling her toes.
“Well, Dorothy, you’re not in Kansas anymore,” she said looking up at a foreign sky with two moons in the distance.
“I must be dreaming. I read so much information about Serralia I’m dreaming about it in Technicolor. Damn! This is one realistic mother of a dream.”
Suddenly, her senses went on high alert. She didn’t know if the air around her had changed or if her body sensed another person behind her, but she knew she was no longer alone and somehow her mate stood behind her.
Two strong bronze hands slowly encircled her waist, pulling her gently back to into a lean, hard body. Liz sighed. This felt right. She snuggled deeper into the embrace. Nothing ever felt this right before. She could stand here in the safety of his arms forever.
“I’ve been waiting for you. I thought you would never get here,” she whispered.
“I’m sorry it took so long. I never let myself believe you existed.”
“I read your file.” The hands moving on her stomach stilled. “I’m sorry for what you had to go through alone. I would have been there for you if I had known.”
“I wouldn’t have been there if I had faith I would find you someday.” Dragon’s chest expanded letting her love and comfort wash over him. “So you know?”
“About everything that happened to you when you were taken prisoner? Yes, I know. I know you lost an eye and still wear an eye patch. I bet it makes you look rakishly handsome.”
She felt the chuckle in his chest before she heard it. The heat of his body warmed her back and aroused her body.
“I have never been told such a thing.”
“Well, I’m sure it does.”
She stroked the muscular forearms at her waist with light caresses. His body trembled behind her.
“We’ve never met in person, but I already feel connected to you. Is it normal?”
“The bonding happens when we are connected as mates. Normal. I don’t know. Right, yes.”
“Do you know about me?” she whispered.
“I know you are perfect.” He leaned down and sweetly kissed the top of her head.
Liz stilled, she might as well tell him about her marriage. She didn’t want any secrets between them.
“I was married before,” she blurted out nervously. “He was not a nice man. He hurt me, not only physically, but verbally too. It took a long time, but I left him.”
Dragon fully stilled behind her. All the wonderful stroking stopped. Her stomach dropped down to her feet. Shit! I’ve ruined this already. She knew her mistake of a marriage would follow her around for the rest of her life. She knew it.
“You don’t know how much pain it causes me to know how much pain you had to endure. I would gladly be tortured again if it meant taking it away from you.
You never have to be afraid with me. I would sooner cut off my own arm than hurt a hair on this beautiful head.”
Liz nodded, the lump in her throat making any physical speech impossible.
“I realize it might be a while before you believe this, but it is true.”
“I do believe you. I don’t know why, but I do.”
“Good. Now, we can continue what we started here.”
Callused thumbs again stroked her stomach making it quiver and her pulse quicken. If this was what he could do to her body with only his thumbs, she might actually die from pleasure. She smiled thinking about what her obituary would say. Woman dies from having the most intense sexual experience of her life, then her brain stopped working; her body took over and went into overload.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Marie Rose Dufour grew up reading romances. She secretly attributes, or blames, her mother who would have romance novels delivered to the house monthly while she was growing up. When she is not reading or writing romances, you can find her working tirelessly in urban education. Marie Rose Dufour lives in Rhode Island with her high school sweetheart and two very curious cats. You can keep up with all her newest releases on her website or follow her on Facebook.
Today, I’d like to welcome guest author, SARA TRIMBLE. Her newest novel, “Heart Over Mind” is now available in most digital formats from Smashwords. Take it away Sara …
I am often asked, why did you choose to be a writer? Is it because it’s so easy? Ha. If only those people could live the life of a writer for one day, they’d no longer believe it’s a profession for slackers. Writing is a full time job, which requires long hours and serious dedication. If you’re interested in being a writer because you think you can type a few words then sit back and let the money roll in, then good luck. Writing a full length book is only a small portion of being an author. Once the book is finished with the first stages, you still have to edit.
I know authors, such as myself, who go through at least three revisions of the same book before it’s anywhere near ready to see a publisher’s desk. Once it’s finished with the revision stages, often times you’ll have to write a synopsis and query letter then wait for that to come back before sending the book in for acceptance or rejection. Just because that company asked to see your whole book doesn’t mean they’ll publish it. If they do decide to publish, your job still isn’t over. Now, you have to help market it so you can earn sales. It may take a while before you see any money from this book.
I’ve also heard a lot of people say that once you get one book published, it’s a guarantee that all of your future books will be accepted too. Wrong! Being published may help the next round be easier, but it does not guarantee that you’ll be able to slack off. Being an author is hard work. In the end, you’ll end up having to stay up late, get up early and abandon all thoughts of free time, fun and a clean house to meet those deadlines. Never expect to get rich just because you published. There’s no guarantee that you’ll be a best seller.
As for me, I was aware of all of this before I decided to try my hand at writing. I’ve always been a stay at home mom and needed something to help fend off the boredom of watching Nick Jr., and Barney all day long. I chose to write because it’s something I love to do. I began when I was in the hospital with my son. Five months pregnant and I’d already went into labor due to stress. My doctor ordered me to do something that would relax me.
I tried puzzles, a crossword book, and listening to music. Bored out of my mine, I grabbed a pen and a piece of paper and began writing down a list of things I’d rather be doing at that moment. Soon, that list evolved into what I’d like to achieve in my lifetime. Number one was to be a good mom. Number two was to be a writer. My mom saw this and asked why I didn’t start then.
I will be the first person to say that when I first started writing books, it was horrible. I knew ntohing about avoiding passive voice, how to correctly change point of view without confusing the reader, or avoiding those pesky adverbs. I was still in the phase that when I wanted to get my point across about something, I tacked on three or four different descriptive words. It was a nightmare! It took me five eyars to learn to avoid these pitfalls as well as a writer’s enemy, telling.
The more I learned about how to correctly write a story, the more aggrivated I grew with my work in progress. I would abandon it and start a new one. It wasn’t until my recently published book, “Heart Over Mind” that I decided there would be no more starting a new book. I spent four years in the revision stage with this book, trying to get it up to publsihing standards.
During that time, I became Dr. Frankenstein. I ripped out scenes, whole pages, and moved them, discarded them, or rewrote every word. By the end of the book, my poor story looked like a lyposuction junkie, covered with red lines and scribbles in the margins. I almost became disheartened at working on this anymore and quit for a new novel. But soon, that was finished and I couldn’t come up with another story idea.
I decided what was the point in writing multiple stories if I would never do anything with them. That wasn’t going to make my dream of becoming a published author come true. So, back to revisions I went. Two months later, my work was finished. I submitted, got a rejection, and decided to self publish. Now, I’m just waiting on readers to find my work and enjoy.
BLURB:
A Life, Changed Forever…
NALA ARPAIA gets life-altering news. She has a family, and more than one secret power. Even worse is that she also has a mad man seeking to kill her. Gabriel arrives and promises to protect her. With him around, she may be safe from Broncestan, but her heart is in danger of breaking.
A Man, Determined To Stay Unattached…
Gabriel makes it clear from day one that he’s not interested in a relationship. Despite the fact that sparks fly whenever he and Nala touch, he wants to focus on the one thing that matters to him. His job. It’s too bad that Nala’s determined not to let that happen. And when multiple signs point to their being together as Fate deems right, Gabriel wonders if he’s fighting a losing battle.
The Fate of the World Belongs To Them…
As Broncestan’s attacks get stronger, and more dangerous, Nala finds it more important than ever to experience the kind of relationship she’d always wanted, but never had. Seeing Nala suffer at the hands of a power-hungry Damned soul, Gabriel realizes keeping his distance isn’t working. Soon, they give in to the passion and proclaim their love. Just when things are supposed to work out, things hit rock bottom again.
Will they ever be able to defeat Broncestan and enjoy a relationship together or are they doomed to live their lives alone and miserable?
EXCERPT:
Nala did not feel well all of a sudden. Her stomach tightened and her neck began to tingle. Frightened, she looked at Gabriel. His knuckles were white from clenching the steering wheel.
“Gabriel, what’s going on?”
He shook his head. “I don’t know. Just sit there and try to stay calm. Keep an eye out for anything that seems strange.”
Nala nodded and began to chew on her lip as she scanned the median on both sides. Everything seemed still and quiet, like the world was holding it’s breath in anticipation. Tall oak and maple trees bracketed both sides of the road, joining in the middle to form a canopy that blocked out most of the sunlight. The bright green leaves swayed, causing eerie shadows to dance along the pavement. Gabriel steered through the hills and curves, handling the large vehicle with expert ease. At the top of a rather steep hill, Nala noticed something amiss a few hundred feet ahead of them.
“Gabriel, look in the middle of the road.”
He did not need her outstretched finger to direct him. It would be near impossible not to see the nine, abnormally large deer standing directly in their path. Four of the animals had large antlers with spreads of at least six feet. As they drew closer, Gabriel tapped the brakes to keep from skidding. Nothing happened.
Gabriel applied more pressure and then cursed when the Tahoe did not respond. He could not swerve off the side of the road. Hitting one of the wide tree trunks would be more dangerous than crashing into the animals.
“Nala, brace yourself. We’re going to wreck.”
Sobbing a little, Nala reached out with her right hand and held onto the door handle. Her left hand curled around the armrest attached to her chair. Planting her feet firmly against the floorboard, she pushed her body as far back into the seat as she could get. Then, she clamped her eyes shut and waited.
Gabriel gripped the wheel praying that the animals would move. He tried to think of a magickal spell to get them out of this but nothing came to mind. He heard Nala’s sob and expected to see her panicking. Instead, she sat in her seat, quiet and braced for impact. He might not like how irresistible she was, but he did admire her courage.
Damn it. We’re ten feet away. They have to move. Just as they were about to careen into the horde, the foul smell of evil magick permeated the closed windows. Gabriel did not have time to analyze why the odor was present.
By the Spirits, please let us make it out of this. As the SUV plowed into the animals, they dematerialized into a puff of mist. Gabriel tested the brakes. As his foot pressed the pedal, they began to slow down. Relieved, he held it down until they were at a stop. Then he looked over at Nala, still clenching her chair and door. Reaching out, he gently stroked her hand and pried it from the armrest.
“Nala, it’s okay. We’re fine.”
Scared to believe him, she cracked one eye open. Sighing, she looked around in confusion.
“Where did they go?”
Gabriel shrugged. He was a bit confused too. “I don’t know. They just turned into smoke. I think it was an illusion. Something to frighten us.”
A nervous laugh escaped Nala’s mouth. “Funny. Well, it worked dang well. Can we get going now before any other surprises come our way?”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
BUY THE BOOK
Coming soon: Heart Over Mind, paperback edition available on Amazon.
Sara Trimble is new to the world of publishing, though not to writing. She has one published novel, one in the final revisions and a stack of stories ready to work on. When she isn’t writing, Sara spends her time with her three children, wonderful fiance Justyn, spending time with friends, and just enjoying life. You can find her at her website, follow her blog, Tweet her, or Facebook. She loves to hear from her readers so send her an email at saratrimble@saratrimble.com.
It’s release day! It’s release day! Invitation is a sequel to MAID FOR MASTER and brings you right back to the balmy XTC (Ecstasy) Resorts in Key West!
A woman unwilling to trust …
Sara Lancaster isn’t sure accepting her invitation to a BDSM weekend at XTC Resort is a good idea—though she does have something to prove. Months of abuse at the hand of her former Master have taken their toll. Now, two years later, Sara believes she’s ready to embrace her submissive side once again and enjoy the carnal pleasures of a younger Dom.
A man testing his limits …
Derek Thomas has lost belief in his abilities as a Master. Accepting an invitation for Dom training could be exactly what he needs to regain his self-confidence. Challenged with an experienced older woman, he soon realizes wielding a flogger isn’t always enough to break down the emotional walls and heal a damaged submissive.
Two people with something to prove …
Sara and Derek sizzle with sexual heat the moment they step into the dungeon. The mind blowing sex and physical pain may satisfy their bodies, but wounded hearts and broken spirits just may require something even more intimate—their hearts.
How about an EXCERPT:
Ethan had said the Doms this weekend would be green, but the stiff way Derek moved through the club and down the stairs made Sara wonder if he had any idea what he’d just agreed to. The man had mentioned a dungeon, but the nervous energy buffeting her, led Sara to believe that perhaps the man beside her had never been left on his own to pleasure a slave.
Testing her theory, she boldly looked directly at his silhouette. “Master Ethan said we should use his private room down there on the left.” She pointed and moved a half step ahead of him. She hadn’t baited a Dom in a long while and she was feeling just foolhardy enough to test this kid’s mettle. The boyish face and youthful curls brushing his collar marked him as some college kid probably experimenting.
The man’s heavy boots pounded along the tile floor of the lower hall, the steady cadence never changing. “You’re well trained, Sara. You know better than to talk or look at me that way.”
“What way?”
He stopped abruptly, and Sara forced herself to take three more steps before casually turning and offering him a lackadaisical arch of her brow. Despite how hard she pushed, the man held tight to his control. His eyes narrowed, raking over her face with disapproval. Biceps bulged as he crossed his arms over his chest, waiting for her to acquiesce. They were in a pissing match, still she felt compelled to push him. To make him prove his worth. Squaring her shoulders, Sara’s eyes met the annoyance sparking in his, mutely challenging the obedience he demanded.
“I’m not sure what you thought you understood from my conversation with Master Ethan.” The power of his deep, even tone shivered down her spine as he closed the distance between them. “But understand this now—for the next hour or two, I am your Master. You will obey me. You will treat me with the respect I deserve or you will be punished.” His luscious mouth twisted in a sardonic smile. “Which means you’ll turn those beautiful blue eyes to the floor. And unless I ask you a direct question or you’re screaming your safe word, you will keep those pouty lips of yours sealed shut.” He leaned in close, her strangled pants mingling with his heated breath. “Have I made myself clear, Sara?”
The rational part of her brain screamed to obey, but it was the sarcastic hellion begging for attention who currently had control. Ignoring both logic and the heavy pounding of her heart, Sara lifted her chin in defiance. “Perfectly.”
“You want to play it that way? Fine. Game on.” Grabbing Sara by the elbow, Derek marched her down the hall, ignoring the two Doms, glistening with sweat, guiding a dazed sub out of one of the rooms. He pulled her to a stop in front of Ethan’s private dungeon and looked up into the camera monitoring the hall. His determined expression shot hot jets of anticipation through her blood.
“Do you enter this room of your own free will as my submissive?”
“Yes.”
“Do you understand this room is monitored by cameras to protect both of us? And that the use of a safe word will halt all play immediately without repercussions or questions?”
“Yes.”
“And what is your safe word, Sara?”
“Attila the Hun.”
The smile he flashed held no mirth. “That’s a mindset, not a safe word.”
“Yours or mine?”
He leaned close, overwhelming her senses with the spicy scent of him. “Keep it up, Sara,” he whispered, his breath feathering heat across her cheek. “Punishing you for your defiance will be entirely my pleasure.”
BUY NOW from Ellora’s Cave
Rumors of me teleporting to another dimension have been greatly exaggerated. I have been working really hard preparing the second book of the Tilling Passion’s series DECEIVE HER WITH DESIRE for publication. I’m also working on a call for submission for Ellora’s Cave. This has kept me deep in the writer’s cave and my fingers flying over the keyboard.
I’m also working on a major overhaul of my website. LOL! I say it like I’m doing it. Fact is, my awesome webmistress, Jenn, from Sapphire Designs just takes my visions and turns them into something gorgeous! I can’t wait until it goes live. Trust me…you’ll know when it’s up. You’ll hear me screaming from the Northeast!
Don’t forget about the CONTEST I’m running. I hope you’ll join in the fun.
And just because I’ve been working so hard, how about if I leave you with a little taste of Deceive Her With Desire? Soon. It’ll be available soon!
Cautious, and working to keep his jangled nerves from pumping his legs in a dead run, Ayden strolled to the shelter of the dinghy. The noise grew louder. Ayden realized he wasn’t moving away from the sound; he was aimed toward it. What a fool. It was a beautiful fall night. Lovers were using the upended craft for a little sex party of their own.
Turning on his heel, he started to walk away, when the noise came again. It wasn’t the moan of sexual pleasure. It was the keening sound of sadness. Someone was crying. And from the quiet hiccupping, it was female.
Ayden shot a longing look over his shoulder, debating between the refuge of the path and the complications under the boat.
Chivalry won out and he stepped warily around the bow.
The redhead sat on the wooden slats, her bare feet digging restlessly in the sand, her face cupped in her hands. Between shuddering breaths, she sputtered angrily into her bent knees, but her tears and her fingers kept the words from him.
“Uh-hmm.” He cleared his throat, not knowing how else to get her attention.
“Holy shit…” She tried to jump to her feet, but banged her head on the iron rigging attached to the upside of the boat. She fell down hard. “Fuck.” Her hand flew to her head.
“I’m sorry, you okay?” Ayden reached for her, but she shook him off.
“I’m fine.”
She looked up at him. Even in the pale light, he could see the anguish in her eyes.
“Actually, I’m not all right.” She pushed herself up, ducking her head away from the oarlock. She wiped at the sand on her bottom. “You scared the living shit out of me.”
Biting back a smile, Ayden watched her glistening tears turn to fury. That he could handle. An angry woman was one hundred times easier to placate than a despondent one.
“Again, I apologize.” He held his hands up in surrender. “I’m Austin Schaeffer.” How easily that name slipped off his tongue.
“Deirdre Tilling,” She shook the hand he offered.
Her grip was surprisingly firm. Ayden liked the touch of her palm against his skin. Not all soft and pliant, but callused and rough. He wondered how it would feel running up his back. Yeah, no getting away from that train of thought.
She was a beautiful woman. Her breasts swelled enticingly just above the bodice of her dress. Her long, muscular legs that he’d admired in the great room, started somewhere around her neck. No wonder Jameson had been seducing this lovely creature.
Jameson. Right. He mentally shook his head. Focus, Ayden. Tonight was about gathering information, not sexual conquests. But then again, there was that two birds and one stone thing.
“You come to Jameson’s parties often?” His voice sounded more at ease than he felt.
She pulled her hand from his and rubbed at the spot on her head. “What? Jameson? Oh, Shawn. No, never been to one of his parties. I’m one of his employees. Damn, this hurts. It’s already forming an egg.”
Ayden ignored the fact she’d called the owner Shawn. Obviously, he wasn’t getting any action from an employee who referred to her boss by his first name.
“Here, let me take a look at it.” He ran his fingers through her hair. It was soft as silk sliding over his hand. “Oh, yeah. You did a nice job. Probably could use a little ice.” At this rate, so could he, but not on the head on his shoulders.
“I did a nice job? Me? You were the one sneaking up like some pirate looking for lost treasure.”
The woman had no idea how close to the truth she was. “I wasn’t sneaking up on you, I heard you crying.”
And there it was. Just like that the white knight had rendered her speechless.
I want to welcome all the readers who found their way here from the Summer Reading Trail. I’m so happy you’ve found me along the Flirtatious Footpath. The story I’m sharing with you is specifically a free read written for the Summer Reading Trail. The rest of the story will be posted in July.
If you enjoy it and would like to read something longer, please click on the cover of any my books on the right side of the blog and it will take you directly to a publisher’s website where you can learn more about them.
And without further adieu, please enjoy part 1 of BRIDGE TO LOVE:
In the distance the festival continued, but Vral barely heard the raucous laughter and tribal drums over the soft moans of the woman in his arms. Mahgda would be upset he’d been gone so long. It wasn’t polite for the bridegroom to miss his own promise celebration and no doubt his betrothed would be looking for him.
Didn’t matter. This whole wedding was a farce. He didn’t love the Nargien female anymore than she loved him. Though Mahgda was certainly going to reap benefits beyond her wildest dreams, Vral would save the realm, but lose his self-respect in the bargain—hardly seemed a fair exchange for the first born son of the Demekleis king.
But duty often involved personal sacrifice and Vral seemed to be paying the ultimate price.
As he hurried to his sleeping chambers, the female snuggled deeper in his arms, her porcelain face nestled in the curve of his shoulder. Human. Though it hardly seemed possible, her long limbs and slight build confirmed his suspicion.
A scholar of ancient civilization and artifacts, Vral had chosen the tiny planet in the Milky Way Galaxy for his Prothemesis. Few academics chose to receive the highest honor, but the hours poring over the ancient texts had not only kept him out of the local gangs, but had piqued his interest in Earthlings. In the end, there was very little he didn’t know about the humanoid planet—or its inhabitants. And this woman, warm and soft in his arms was definitely one of them.
But Earth was a thousand light years and countless galaxies from the planet of Cabonon. The starbridge between their worlds had been destroyed during the last great cycle. Both Earth and Cabonon still bore the scars of the apocalypse. The former had lost Atlantis, a great catastrophe for sure, but humans had prevailed and their race had continued, albeit without the peace the Atlanteans would have guaranteed. But Cabonon—his home planet–had been completely decimated.
A dark evil had descended the day the starbridge collapsed, sending Cabonon into a blackness so complete, even the light from distant stars couldn’t penetrate its atmosphere. Vral hadn’t known anything different from the heavy weight of despair all Demekleis people slogged around. Tempers were quick, insults quicker and peace between tribes something only the elders remembered.
Hence the reason for his loveless betrothal to the Nargien warrior.
On a sigh, Vral pushed aside the oversized strands of the baen tree covering his sleeping chamber, whispering commands as he passed through the sitting room. Luminescent organisms woke from their slumber, a soft, amber hue lighting the dark recesses of his simple abode. It was one of many symbiotic relationships the Demekleis people had developed with the fauna of their planet.
“Vral!”
Normally, the sound of his brother’s voice wouldn’t send icy rivers of guilt through his veins. But as Vral hastily laid her on the bed and covered the woman with a blanket of soft ferns, he implored the Gods not to let her choose this moment to wake.
“Vral, where the hell are—” Wesphel stepped into the bedchamber. “Ah, here you are.” Three years younger, his brother had not come into his male maturity. The boy was still a head shorter and his cyan skin hadn’t developed the cobalt hue of Vral’s. “Where have you been? That Nargien wench sent me to find—”
“Well you’ve found me.” Vral stepped between his brother and the bed, shielding his curious gaze. “I just wanted to…” Vral searched for some believable excuse for coming back to his chambers. “Grab my daknier.” He swiped the small knife from his dressing stand, bent and slid it into a weapon’s band beneath the leg of his trousers and slapped his beefy fist on his brother’s shoulder. “Shall we go?”
A low moan keened from beneath the covering.
Wesphel broke from his grasp and shot around him before Vral could stop the foolish boy. “I’m not sure if Father would be proud you’ve bedded one last female or displeased that you’ve broken your promise of fidelity.”
He pulled back the coverlet before Vral could stop him. The human female bolted to a sitting position, her blood curdling scream echoing off the walls. The noise startled the luminescent organisms who shut down, leaving them in total darkness.
* * * * *
Annemarie’s throat burned from screaming. But she forced herself to stop and swallow her fear. It wouldn’t do for the daughter of a naval officer to lose her head in battle. She wasn’t sure where she was, but it sure as hell wasn’t Pennsylvania. She’d had only a brief glimpse of the blue alien trying to probe her before everything had gone black.
Instinctively she jumped away from the creature, grabbing the taser from the large side pocket of her cargo pants as she went. With her back to the wall, she waited for her eyes to adjust, wondering just where she’d landed and how the hell she’d gotten there. It seemed a long way off from the crystal cave she’d been excavating.
“Hush, dear friends, safety is yours.” A decidedly male voice spoke quietly in the dark, the baritone timbre stirring something deep inside Annemarie. Not fear exactly, but a definite awareness. She hadn’t expected the creature could have such a soothing tone. It seemed so incongruous to the harsh angles of his face. “If it pleases you, we could use some light.”
She patted her pockets. Save for a wad of notes, two stubby pencils and an old stick of gum, Annemarie had nothing. “I…I’m sorry I don’t seem to have my flashlight. Matches either.” She wasn’t sure why she dared respond. The blue creature that had been in her face wasn’t any friend of hers. But when the ceiling began to glow, she suspected he hadn’t been talking to her. Mesmerized, she watched the rock above her grow brighter. The light rolled and pulsed as if the ceiling itself were alive.
“There, now if we can all remain calm.” The voice floated from a second creature, bigger, bluer and uglier, who seemed to materialize out of the shadows. There was no way in hell the small taser in her hand was any match for the monstrosity moving toward her. The scream ripping from her lungs, was all very girly, but it seemed a natural reaction to being cornered.
They were plunged into darkness once again and Annemarie dropped into a fighting stance. Even though the Tai Kwon Do lessons she’d been taking at the YMCA for the last year weren’t going to get her very far, at least they weren’t going to stick probes in her orifices without a fight.
“Seriously human we’re not going to get anywhere if you keep scaring the Photinus.”
“—I have no idea what a photo-whatever is, but I need you to stay back!”
“—Human? Did you say human, Vral? For the love of all the Gods where did you find a human?”
Her words rolled over a higher pitched voice, probably the smaller of the two. But their distress came through in the volume of their voices, the sound bouncing off the walls as if amplified by the tight quarters.
“Stop now both of you.” The honey-rich command of the bigger male brooked no argument. “The creatures living in my ceiling are Photinus. And they would happily share their light and heat if the two of you would stop scaring the living shit out of them.”
A low hum filled the air, a sweet melody of notes that wrapped around Annemarie, slowing her breathing and steadying the rhythm of her heart. Once again light filtered into the room.
“I—”
“She’s—”
“Enough,” the big male said. “Seriously, if we are plunged into darkness again, because you two fools can’t keep your voices down, I will walk from here and leave you both to fend for yourselves and find your own way out.” His gaze pinned first one than the other, both of them shaking their heads and holding their hands up in surrender. Annemarie had no desire to be lost in a dark cave with an alien species of unknown origin.
“Fine.” He shot an imposing look at the male behind him. “Wesphel, stand there and shut up.” When he turned back to Annemarie, his expression softened. “I have no intention of hurting you human.” His voice was warm and lilting, inviting her to relax. “From your reaction I suspect you’ve unknowingly opened the starbridge between our worlds and I intend to find out how and why.”
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If you’d like to read more authors on the summer trail, please click on the banner below to be taken to the trailhead.
SEE YOU IN JULY!
I couldn’t do an update this week without telling everyone how fortunate I am to have such a wonderful mom. She raised 5 children (each of us a year apart … you do the math … FIVE teenagers! And she survived!) She’s been wonderful as I’ve become a mom. She hangs back until we ask for advice and then gently shares her wisdom. Mom lives far away from me and though we don’t talk on the phone very often, I think about her every day.
But 27 years ago when I married Mr. Nina another wonderful mom came into my life. I’m so fortunate to have someone else who loves me unconditionally, supports and encourages. I truly am doubly blessed.
I’m not going to be with either of my moms today. But they are in my thoughts and prayers. If you’re a mom … Happy Mother’s Day. And I wish for all of you the special love of a mom.
Now, onto the good news this week …
Sizzling Hot Books reviewed BLIND LOVE. Michelle had this to say …
Blind Love was a hot and sweet story. I enjoyed seeing a woman not holding back her feelings of discontent with her family and how she went for what she wanted … a book to go back to when you are in a sentimental mood, but with hotness thrown in.
And Miz Love Loves Books gave BLIND LOVE 5 STARS and Miz Terious had this to say…
Ms. Pierce has penned a wonderful mystery with twists and turns that will keep the reader guessing until the very end. The chemisty between Julie and Damon is smoking with sex scenes that will have you squirming in your seat. It doesn’t get much better than this. Intrique, family dynamics, hot sex and a true happy ending. I’ll be looking for the second book in what promises to be a great series.
And quite out of the blue I received an awesome 4 STAR review for DIVINE DECEPTION from Night Owl Romance. And Pauline had this to say …
Each and every character in this story was well developed and added to the plot. The emotions in this story are extensive and run the gamut from sorrow, guilt, anger, joy and hatred. The location itself is almost a character and Ms. Pierce brings it to life, I could almost smell the dirt and taste the wine. This author is one of my must-reads and this story showcases the talent that put her there.
How about an EXCERPT:
Having Nick present while she visited with Joseph wasn’t really in her plans. Frankie had tried to talk Nick into taking the motorcycle to the hospital later in the morning but Margaret had come running down the granite steps swinging a picnic basket as Frankie was climbing into the truck. She handed it to Nick with two quick kisses on his cheeks and stood watching as he climbed into the passenger side of the cab and they pulled from the driveway.
Now they were headed into town, the midmorning sun hanging in an azure sky, its rays dancing on Seneca Lake. Normally Frankie would have loved a day like this but the cab seemed claustrophobic with Nick Gradin’s surly attitude sitting between them.
“It’s not my fault you didn’t know who I was,” she said quietly.
Turning to her, he cocked a skeptical eyebrow and crossed his arms over his chest.
“You knew your father had a stepdaughter.”
“And a child bride,” Nick remarked coldly. “I expected my stepsister to have pigtails and braces. Not…” His hand motioned up and down her torso.
“Well, you didn’t seem to mind the package yesterday.”
“Yesterday I thought you were Joseph’s assistant.”
“Funny, yesterday I thought you were a womanizing pig of a manwhore.” She shot him a patronizing smile. “Guess one of us was right.”
He frowned. “If you’ll recall, I wasn’t the one who came on to you in the field.”
“As I recall, it was you who was ready for action in the wine cellar.”
“I was simply reading the signals you were sending out.”
“Then you have a faulty GPS.”
“My wiring is just fine thank you.”
“I suppose you think it is, with all the woman you have tumbling into your posh Philadelphia bed.”
“Now what the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“Oh, as if you don’t know.”
“I have no idea what you’re…oh, this is stupid. Pull over here.” Nick motioned to a dirt road that led to a small alcove near the lake.
She’d been parking there once in high school.
“I’m not going to see Joseph until we clear this up and can at least be civil to each other,” he said.
Frankie acquiesced. He was right. It wouldn’t do Joseph any good to have them bickering in front of him. She turned the truck into the trees, their pumpkin and gold leaves floating passively on the gentle breeze. They bumped down the dirt tracks, the center lane overgrown with the dried weeds of summer. Frankie felt as if she was entering the lion’s mouth. Anger surrounded Nick like the cloud of dust trailing behind them. She had no idea why he was so pissed when she’d only spoken the truth.
Shoving the truck in park and shutting off the engine, Frankie stared out over the lake. Its cobalt surface rippled at the gentle touch of the fall breeze. Maybe this was the perfect place to help Nick see things her way. Though she hadn’t exactly started the conversation off in the right direction, maybe she could try again. “I think—”
As if he hadn’t heard her, Nick got out and slammed the door. Pacing in front of the truck, he pulled at his bottom lip, an angry scowl furrowing his brows. What the hell was his problem? Frankie got out and stalked after him. “For someone who wants to talk, you’re damn rude, you know that, Gradin?”
He grabbed her and pressed her against the front of truck, the solid planes of his chest trapping her. “I don’t know what my father told you about me but I do not—I repeat, do not—have a rotating door on my bedroom. There is no harem of beauties waiting for me in Philly. When I choose to sleep with a woman I like there to be a little chemistry between me and the lady.” His mouth came down hungrily on hers, his taste already familiar. When his tongue ran the seam of her lips, she had no choice but to open to his assault. Fisting his hand in her hair, Nick controlled the breath-stealing tempo while his other hand surrounded her breast, squeezing the sensitive flesh. Warm shocks of want shot straight to her pussy. Frankie’s hands seized the soft chambray of his shirt, her heart racing in her ears. Nick broke from her as abruptly as he began. “And there’s no denying our chemistry, Francesca.”
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