Guest Blogging

Today I’m hanging out over at BABUS BOOKSHELF chatting about a book’s bait and switch … yep it happened to me. I hope you’ll stop over and visit.

And while you’re bumping around the internet, why don’t you swing over to the Blogger’s Book Fair  READER’S CHOICE AWARDS and vote for your favorite titles. (A TOUCH OF LILLY is in the erotica category and could use a few more votes if you’re so inclined. Just sayin…)

Thanks for stopping by. I’ll leave you with a little hump-day inspiration:


Wai … what? You didn’t know Mondays are set aside for everything sexy and sensual? I mean, don’t you put on your sexy lingerie on Mondays to do the vacuuming and dusting? No? … you’ve been missing out. LOL!

Actually, I’m talking to you writers who swing by my blog. Today I’m over at Savvy Authors sharing my secrets of how to write a sensual love scene between your characters.

Whether it’s a sweet seduction or a rip-your-clothes-off-in-the-kitchen love scene there are certain elements that draw your readers closer to your characters and others that throw them out of the scene. I hope you’ll stop over and share your tricks and secrets of writing the perfect love scene.

Come on over to SAPPHIRE PHELAN’S blog and check out how my story began!

(Probably more than you’ve ever wanted to know about Nina. LOL!) And be sure to stop by next week. I’ve got a post updating my self-publishing journey … lots of interesting things to report.

And I was pleased this week when I found a 4.5 STAR review for CHEAT HER WITH CHARM from The Reader’s Round Table. Mar had this to say:

Loved, loved, loved the suspense in Cheat Her With Charm by Nina Pierce! I was impressed with the plot, the set up, and the well written story line that really had me hooked from the beginning …

Cheat Her With Charm stands alone on its own merit, but if you have a chance to read Deceive Her with Desire and Blind Her With Bliss, do so! These books also include quick paced action, snappy dialogue, and characters that won’t let you put their stories down.

w00t! w00t! Thanks Mar!!

And before you leave how about if you tell me what you’re reading? Would you recommend it to other visitors?

I am so pleased to welcome my dear friend, Evie MacKenzie whose debut novel HIGHLAND PAWN was released last week at Ellora’s Cave. Take it away Evie …

First, I want to thank Nina for inviting me to her blog. She’s a wonderful person and a fantastic writer, and I’m honored to be her guest. (It’s all true, but I won’t turn down any brownie points I may earn from it!)

With the recent release of my erotic romance novel “Highland Pawn” from Ellora’s Cave Publishing, I figured I would share some background on how the story came to be.

I have always been fascinated by Scotland and its rich history, most notably the decade leading up to the Battle of Culloden in 1745. It was an era when kilts were permitted, bagpipers played freely, and many of the men wore their hair long. (*sigh*) In my opinion, it was one of the most romantic periods in Scotland’s history. It was also one of the most turbulent as the Scots distrusted the English and vice-versa, often resulting in bloodshed on one or both sides. Talk about fodder for conflict! There was no doubt in my mind this was the time period I wanted to write about.

Alexander MacKay, the hero in “Highland Pawn”, marched onto the page and demanded to be noticed. With the imposing frame of a Highland warrior, his long, dark locks and ruggedly handsome features he quickly had my attention. Alex was fiercely protective of the people who mattered to him and he made a formidable enemy. Though he refused to acknowledge he had a softer side, his actions hinted at those emotions. I couldn’t help but fall in love with the man.

Maggie Fraser was no less insistent when she introduced herself. Her determination to help her family came before her own concerns and desires, and it stirred something inside of me. She wasn’t fearless but she was brave. Not to mention hot-tempered, much to Alex’s chagrin. The two of them together made for fascinating writing. I was anxious to see where their relationship was going from one page to the next.

Happy reading!

Maggie Fraser is willing to do whatever it takes to save her family’s estate, even gaining the cooperation of the ruthless Duke of Westingham. She possesses what he desires most—a maidenhead ripe for the plucking.

Her journey takes her to a dangerous part of the Highlands, a voyeur’s paradise known as Bare Brook. When she finds herself in a bind, the devilishly sexy Alexander MacKay comes to her rescue. The kilted warrior is not only the duke’s biggest adversary, but also her greatest weakness.

Alex is on a mission to destroy the Duke of Westingham when he’s forced to play Maggie’s protector. To say the alluring Miss Fraser is a distraction is the understatement of the century. She wants him to teach her how to seduce and please a man, and the fire between them burns out of control. When he learns she’s saving herself for the duke, he’s more determined than ever to kill the man. But his actions could destroy her family and drive a permanent wedge between them.

It had been a day since Alex had taken her from the cave and, on the whole, she seemed to be doing much better. He wrung out the cloth he’d dipped in the brook and placed it over her forehead, more as a comfort than as an aid for healing.

“Thank you,” Margaret uttered, bringing her hand to rest on the cool, damp fabric. “Not just for the cloth, but…for everything.”

He hadn’t said as much as a word to her about the incident since she regained consciousness, but he could no longer hold his tongue. “Ye willna leave my side again.”

“But I—”

He effectively silenced her with a glare. Rarely did he have need to give orders to someone of the fairer sex, but when he did, his decree brooked no argument.

“Until I return ye safely to your da, ye will stay by my side, Margaret Fraser. I’ll turn my back while ye tend to your womanly necessities, but—God as my witness—I’ll not let ye be taken again.”

Alex had to look away from those haunting green eyes of hers, lest he give his thoughts away.

Never had he been so worried for someone in all his life. Just the thought of what might have happened to her made his hands shake with rage. The Highlands were no place for a lady to wander by herself, and this incident proved it.

“I see,” Margaret stated quietly. “I suppose we should get it over with, then.”

Alex turned back to her. “Meaning?”

“Meaning,” she began with a grimace, “if I don’t find a cluster of bushes or trees in the next moment or two…”

With a slight blush, Alex helped her to her feet. “Well, I guess ye’d best see to it, aye?”

Maggie straightened her skirts, never once taking her eyes off Alex’s broad back. To her surprise, he’d been a gentleman of honor and allowed her privacy. Well, as much privacy as five strides of distance granted, anyway.

“Are ye decent yet?” Alex asked, hands braced on his hips as he shifted back and forth.

“Yes. You may look, MacKay.”

His shoulders relaxed before he turned to face her. “I wish I could have afforded ye more privacy, but given the gravity of the situation…”

Maggie waved her hand. “Think nothing of it. Besides, I’ll be saying the same to you afore the day’s out.” It was nearly impossible for Maggie to keep a straight face when he arched an eyebrow. Apparently he hadn’t thought that far ahead. “If I can’t leave your side, MacKay, then I’ll be right there when you’re…um…relieving yourself too.” She blinked innocently. “I’m correct, aren’t I?”

Realization donned in his eyes, and he quickly drew back. “I, uh, I…suppose ye’re right.”
It was difficult to tamp the impish grin that wanted to take over. “And when you wash in the brook, I’ll be there as well.”

Maggie swore she saw the corners of his mouth start to turn upward before one of his big, bronzed hands reached up to stroke his stubbled chin. “Really, now? I hadn’t thought of that.”

Maggie gently raked her bottom lip with her teeth, a move that provoked a heated look from her opponent. “That could prove interesting, could it not?”

Alex stepped closer. “Have ye ever bathed with a man, Margaret?”

Her pulse raced as their gazes met. There was a hungry look in his eyes, and he appeared ready to pounce. To keep her hands steady, she clasped them in front of her. “Does my brother count? When we were bairns, they used to bathe us together.”

His blue eyes sparkled in the sunlight. “Nay. It doesna count.” He waited for her answer only a moment longer. “Well?”

Maggie lowered her lids coyly. “I don’t believe I shall answer that question, MacKay. If I say I have, I’d be painting myself the strum. If I say I haven’t, well… Would I appear too innocent, I wonder.”

Alex laughed, and she wondered how he’d gotten so close without her noticing. His earthy, masculine scent enveloped her like a favorite blanket. “Oh Maggie, I imagine ye fall somewhere in between.”

His chest was partially exposed, and he was near enough to touch. Her fingers itched to reach out to him, but she held back. “Perhaps I do.”

It was Alex who breached the invisible barrier, twirling a lock of her hair around his fingers. She sucked in a breath as he wove his way through the thick mass of tresses. “Ye are dangerous to a man’s self-control, Margaret.”

The flutters in her stomach intensified as he leaned closer. Breathless, she responded, “Why would I wish for you to restrain yourself?”

She felt rather than heard the feral growl that reverberated in his chest as he took possession of her mouth. The sweet shock of his tongue fully engaged with hers made her knees weaken in response, and she gripped his shoulders to keep herself upright. His arms tightened around her waist as he deepened the kiss, and an errant hand found its way to the curve of her buttocks.

Wetness pooled between her thighs as he dragged her firmly to him. With authoritative hands, he guided her so that her pelvis was grinding against him in a slow, tantalizing rhythm. Before she knew it, her body assumed the natural cadence, allowing his hands to explore elsewhere. His fingers lightly traced the path of her spine, invoking a tingling sensation that made her want to press against him even harder.

Cupping one of her breasts, he teased the nipple to the point of delirium.

“Maggie,” he whispered after dragging his lips away from hers. “Ye’ve no idea how long I’ve wanted to touch ye this way.”

*fans face* Whew, nice excerpt, thanks for sharing Evie. So I’m curious people, have you had characters from a story haunt you and not let you go? Talk amongst yourselves for a bit while I go take a cold shower …

Today I’m hanging at Savvy Authors talking about Pantsing through manuscripts vs Plotting stories. Every writer has their method of getting from “Once upon a time…” to “…lived happily ever after”.

I hope you’ll come on over grab a margarita and join in the discussion. I’m always interested in finding out how other people get through their stories. See you there!

I’ve got a busy day scheduled and I hope you’ll join me.

First I’m hanging at I Write Hot chatting about “BLIND HER WITH BLISS”. (Though it’s not really considered erotic romance, it’s a little too steamy for their I Self-Pub.) This is a new site that is just getting up and running. I hope you’ll stop over and help me support them and their efforts to get the word out about erotic romance and self-published books.

I’m also spending the day at Coffee Time Romance Blog. I’ll be hanging out all day giving away books and goodies and having a generally wild party. I hope you’ll stop over and join me.

Only this party isn’t for the kiddos. We’re celebrating because they’re out of the house and we can let our hair down!

Join me over at Sizzling Hot Book Reviews for a pah-tay! Lots of erotic romance authors celebrating all the joy of hot, sexy heroes and the women who love them. Lots of giveaways…including a set of romance trading cards from me! I hope you’ll swing over and discover some hot new erotic romance authors. We talking everything fun and naughty.

Today I’d like to welcome erotic romance author TRACEY H. KITTS. Take it away Tracey…

I don’t write smut, I really don’t. I’ve read smut before and my stuff doesn’t come close. To me, smut is the stuff you find in dirty magazines. You know, no story just hard-core, often not even sexy, sex. I write erotic romance. There is a difference.

Being in the publishing industry, or any business, you have to have a tough hide as the expression goes. And I do. It is difficult to offend me either personally or professionally. Though I would rather you insult me as an individual than insult my work with no good reason. People being uptight and afraid of the subject of sex is not a good reason.

I can tell the difference in someone meaning “smut” as a joke or as a serious remark too. One of my friends recently called me a “smut writer” and I laughed and went on about my day. He wasn’t trying to insult me. I know other writers who take the term in stride and say, “Heck, yeah, I write smut.” I just can’t do that. I grew up in the South and “smut” and “trash” are still bad words here.

I wouldn’t classify my writing as straight erotica either. So, I thought just for the sake of discussion, (and probably hilarity) I would break down what I think common terms referring to romance novels mean.

Smut” to me is just filth. It’s the stuff where they use offensive words to refer to female parts and the men in the stories are jerks. “Trash” is about the same, give or take a few jerks. “Erotica” is tasteful, graphically described sex. The plot in these stories is often sexual in its very nature, making the story more about sex than other romance. I do, however, put most erotica still in the category of romance. Unless it’s meant to be straight up kink. Which brings me to “kink.” This is fetish sex, graphically described. If done well it can be erotica. If done poorly, it’s trash.

Finally, we come to the term I believe best describes my work. (Of course it’s paranormal romance, but I’m talking about in broad terms.) “Erotic romance.” These stories also have graphically described sex scenes. But you know what else they have that sets them apart? Feelings. In order for there to be romance, both the characters and the readers need to feel something. (Besides arousal) Generally, there is also a great deal of plot and character development. The main focus remains on the growing relationship of the main characters, but doesn’t forget there is more to the story than sex. There’s also more to writing any kind of romance than writing the sex scenes. Anyone who thinks differently has never read a romance novel. It’s easy to turn up their noses at things they have no knowledge of.

One of my latest books, Till the break of Dawn, has the longest love scene I’ve ever written. It’s sixteen pages long. I call it a love scene rather than a sex scene, because there’s much more to it than just the sex. This moment has been building since the beginning of the story, and like most romance novels, it’s been building to more than just the characters taking off their clothes. There are emotional issues that must be addressed.

So, to sum everything up: When someone throws aside all the work I’ve put into developing the characters and the story line and just because there’s sex in it calls my work “smut,” it chaps my ass.

Okay, who wants this soap box?

Please enjoy this EXCERPT from Til the Break of Dawn:
“Are you sure you want to be here?”

I stepped into the room and dropped my purse beside the door, closing it behind me with my foot.

“I’ve never wanted to be anywhere more.”

He leaned forward slowly, then faster than I could imagine he had me pressed back against the door. He lifted me with both the force of his body and the passion in his kiss. As I rose higher, whether by his vampire powers or those of his body, I did not know, I wrapped myself around him.

Whatever it was that Marcus did for me I didn’t want to lose it. I didn’t want to walk away from him and never feel again what I felt tonight. No one had ever touched me the way he did, and it had nothing to do with my body.

His hands slid beneath my shirt and I arched against him. I hungered for the feel of his skin against mine. My need for him was so sharp that it could easily have been considered pain. It was then that I glanced over his shoulder and noticed the drawings. Pictures of me. They were everywhere.

Marcus paused, sensing my distraction. He looked behind him.

“I’ve missed you,” he said softly.

He lowered me to the floor and I walked over to the bed. For several moments I was speechless. How could he possibly have gotten these? We didn’t use a camera that night. But as I drew closer I understood. They were drawings. Images of me lay spread out before him as my body once did.

“They’re beautiful,” I whispered.

I reached to touch one and felt him move closer against my back.

“This is how I remember you.”

My eyes stung with unshed tears. “I never looked like that.”

Marcus tilted my face up toward him. “You look like that now. That same look in your eyes. It took me years to get it right.”

He was killing me. Had I really left him? Why was it again I chose to stop seeing him? Looking into his pale green eyes, I couldn’t for the life of me remember.

“And what look is that?”

I knew he was going to kiss me again and felt my lips parting in anticipation as I rose on tiptoe to meet him. Despite the heels on my sandals, I still needed the extra lift. I expected him to say “desire” or “passion” or even “lust,” anything but …


The word was whispered against my lips as I fell into his arms. His soft, gentle kisses were an answer to so many unspoken prayers. He deepened the kiss, taking my mouth as he once had my body: completely. I opened my mouth and all of my being to him. If Marcus had asked for my soul in that moment, I would have given it.

He moved the pictures aside with one scoop of his hand and deposited them on the nightstand. When Marcus turned back to me my breath caught. Since he was so tall, he always bent slightly forward when he was around most people. The only time I ever saw him rise to his full height was inside the ring. As he looked down at me now, his hair fell forward framing his face and his pale eyes seemed to come alive in the semi-darkness of the room.

The fire that burned behind his eyes might burn me, but I no longer cared.

“Your eyes are glowing.”

There were two lamps in the room and he reached for the one that wasn’t lit.

“Do you want more light?”

“No,” I said, putting my hand over his. “I like it.”