Friday, May 15, 2015

#Waterloo 200th commemorated by 6 #Regencyromance #authors in THE INCOMPARABLES, 6.18.15 #99cents

As the 200th anniversary of the Battle of Waterloo approaches, many Regency authors have contributed their vision of how many men and women survived that victory by the Allies, led by Wellington, and the defeat by Napoleon Bonaparte and his forces.

I have joined a fabulous group of 5 other Regency authors to bring you a 99cent box set collection of original novels. All reflect how men in uniform and the woman they loved reacted to what was at that time, the greatest war—and the longest one.

The Incomparables: 6 Heroes of Waterloo and the 6 Ladies They Adore 
This limited edition box set includes 6 scorching romances that commemorate the 200th anniversary of the June 18, 1815 Battle of Waterloo.

From the Duchess of Richmond’s ball in Brussels to the Battle of Waterloo and beyond, join these six unforgettable heroes as they journey back from the physical and emotional trials of war and discover the passion that thrills the body can also heal the heart. 

Coming June 18th from bestselling and award winning historical romance authors Cerise DeLandSabrina YorkSuzi LoveLynne ConnollySuzanna Medeiros and Dominique Eastwick.

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A few facts about Waterloo that you may not know?

1. The battle was one of a few that occurred over a period of 3 days.

2. Waterloo occurred in a small town south of Brussels in Belgium and was the last and deciding battle!

3. Some historians argue over how the battle was lost and won. A few say that Napoleon deserved to lose—and that Wellington won by default.

4. In 1815, many men in the ranks had joined to earn money. Many were terribly wounded—and many, British, French and other of the Allies' men lived in abject poverty afterward.

5. Join us on Amazon, KOBO, NOOK, iTunes and ARe on June 1 as we bring you 6 stirring stories about the men who fought in this war.

6. The authors who are with me are:

Interlude with a Baron by Cerise DeLand
Emma wants only an interlude with the man she’s adored for years. But Drayton Worth has spent five years riddled with guilt for hurting her—and he’s determined to have more than a few nights in her bed.

Tarnished Honor by Sabrina York
Daniel Sinclair is a broken man with war wounds that are physical and spiritual. He’s weighed down by grief and guilt and tormented by his tarnished honor. When he meets Fia Lennox, a beautiful and brave Highland lass in dire need of his protection, he sees in her his chance for redemption…or utter damnation. Because despite his valiant attempts to resist her, he cannot.

Love After Waterloo by Suzi Love
When Lady Melton and her son join Captain Belling and the last wounded soldiers evacuating from Waterloo to London, she expects clashes with army deserters but doesn’t anticipate how falling in love with the antagonistic captain will change her life.

Dreaming of Waterloo by Lynne Connolly
Paul “Lucky” Sherstone daren’t even let his wife too close because of his headaches and the living nightmares he can’t dispel. Hetty hardly knows the man who comes back from war, but one thing she does know—she still wants him.

The Captain’s Heart by Suzanna Medeiros
A man who is determined to fulfill his duty at the expense of his own happiness, a woman who wants only one taste of true passion, and a case of mistaken identity. Can Captain Edward Hathaway and Grace Kent overcome the guilt that continues to haunt them both and find true love?

For Love or Revenge by Dominique Eastwick

Captain Roarke Wooldridge is about to find out that sometimes love does heal all wounds.But when his need for revenge collides with desires he never believed he would feel again, will he be able to put aside the scars of Waterloo to embrace his future?

For more info on Waterloo, the men who fought and our 6 fabulous stories, return here and to our blog, The Incomparables Club Blog!

June 1, pre-order everywhere!
June 18, release date!
 * * * * *

Follow her on Twitter: @cerisedeland 
Goodreads: Cerise DeLand

Saturday, May 9, 2015

All in for @SabrinaYork's fave POOL MAN, out now! He'll be yours too!

A fun, flirty romantic romp…with a twist!
Paige Barber needs a vacation. She can’t resist her best friend’s offer of a remote vacation home on a private Caribbean island. Jimmy, the sexy pool boy, is part and parcel with the offer. But recently dumped Paige has no intention of taking advantage of that amenity…until she sets eyes on Jimmy. He’s not a boy at all, but the sexiest man Paige has ever met.
And he can cook. Oh, man, can he cook!
She thinks it will be easy returning to the real world after an utterly wanton and sensuous week in the arms of a hot, hard, perfect man. But it’s not. It’s not easy at all.

Read an Excerpt:

   The house was quiet and shadowed as I padded back to the pool. I didn’t see any sign of Jimmy, which was just as well. My dreams had been filled with him; he’d haunted every crevice of my sleep.   I felt like I’d been steeped in him, reliving every touch, every glance, every fantasy.
Those dreams clung to my consciousness, as dreams sometimes do, stoking a hunger I hadn’t even realized I had.
   I’d been kind of joking when I’d invited Jimmy to my room, but in truth, it hadn’t been a joke at all.    I wanted him. Really wanted him. Needed him, maybe.
Needed the oblivion a wild, steamy, pointless affair could provide.
   My ego ached after Harlan’s betrayal, but it was more than that. It was more than assuaging a hit to my self-esteem.
   I  simply wanted Jimmy.
   Wanted him in a way I’d never wanted a man before.
   Maybe it was the isolation. Maybe it was the magnificent surroundings. Maybe it was simply the fact that he was hotter than hot. Certainly hotter than Harlan with his bad-boy-biker persona, his bull ring. His tattoos. Nothing about him had been real in the end. Nothing about us had been either.
   The tiny lights strung around Marlee’s patio glowed as they bobbed in the breeze. The waters of the hot tub steamed a warm welcome, bathed in a surreal blue that shone like a beacon in the gathering night.
   I tossed my towel on a lounge chair and stepped in. And hissed.
   Warmth lapped at me. I sank, allowing the water to consume me slowly. My skin shivered as I eased deeper, all the way to my neck. I turned around and leaned against one of the benches formed in the tile and closed my eyes.
   I owed Marlee. And I owed her big time.
  This place was, indeed, heaven on earth. And Jimmy… Well, the jury was still out on that one.    Marlee had been frank. “Paige,” she’d said. “You need to get laid. And trust me, if anyone can help you forget about that douchebag Harlan Rivers, it’s my Jimmy.” I tried not to let it bug me that she’d put it that way. My Jimmy. Not that I had any ownership of him. Not that I wanted it.
   I just wasn’t used to sharing men with my best friend.
   Remembering the ripple of his pec beneath my palm, I nibbled my lip.
   I could probably get over it…
   “May I join you?”
  I opened my eyes at the deep voice, at the question tinged with a throb.
  My heart stuttered. My breath caught.
  Jimmy. Standing there next to the hot tub, wearing nothing but a tight black Speedo. Everything I had imagined under his casual clothes, everything I had hoped for, was there. Thick muscles roping his chest and forearms, thighs like tree trunks, a flat, taut belly, sculpted abs and a tantalizing dark line arrowing toward a magnificent bulge.
  I nearly swallowed my tongue.
   “May I?”
  Oh lord, I’d been ogling. “Yes. Please. Come on in. The water’s fine.”
  Yeah, lame. Cliché. But there you go. It was the best I could come up with. My brain, apparently, was on vacation as well.
   The water rose as he eased in. His groan echoed off the shadows. He’d taken off his glasses so I had an unfettered view of his face. When his eyes closed, in that moment of bliss as the water enveloped him, when his lips parted…I thought, perhaps, that was what his O-face would look like.
   One could hope.
   Many men were like monkeys when their crisis descended. Which was why I rarely looked. I was possessed of the sharp, sudden urge to see Jimmy in ecstasy. To watch him come.
   Okay, not so sudden. But definitely sharp.
   Though he sat across from me, the hot tub wasn’t too big, and his foot nudged mine. I didn’t jerk away, though my first inclination was to do just that. I reminded myself that any advance had to come from him. Jimmy was Marlee’s pool boy, not a sex slave. And if he wasn’t interested—I ignored the dark dip of my mood at the thought—that would be that.
   So when his foot grazed mine, I steeled my spine and left it there. Next to his.
   Our gazes tangled. His toe slipped up my ankle, a tentative foray. A fluttery thrill, an unexpected shower of arousal, trickled through me.
   I stroked back.
   His focus on me intensified, though it flicked, for a fraction of an instant, to my breasts. They bobbed in the water, as breasts often did, buoyed and jubilant to be released from the bondage of gravity. He licked his lips. My nipples pebbled as I imagined his mouth on them.
   His eyes narrowed then raked their way back to my face. “How-how did you sleep?”
   Was it my imagination or was he struggling for words? As though casual talk had no place between us, but he needed the lubricant.
   The thought of lubricant, and what we could do with it, flashed through my brain. Fizzled there, incinerating all other preoccupations.
   “I slept well.”
   “Good.” A rough growl. “The room was to your liking?”
   “The bed…comfortable?”
   The word bed made me shudder. Maybe it was just the way he said it, infusing it with meaning, intent.
   Or maybe it was simply the fact that he’d slipped nearer.
   The breeze shifted and brought his scent to me on wispy tendrils. That intoxicating bite of his cologne made my head spin.
   “Are you…hungry?” His voice rumbled, thrummed with double entendre.
   “Not for food.” A whisper. I barely choked it out. Because he’d come close, and closer still. “But first… Rules.”
   His brow wrinkled. “Rules?”
   I nodded primly. Best to just get this out. I held up a finger. “One. Always use protection.”
   “P-protection?” He stared at me like a deer in the headlights. Seriously? Had he not known it was going this way? Had he not suspected?
   Or was he shy?
   I kind of liked that. I kind of liked the fantasy that he didn’t screw Marlee and every one of the friends she sent to him.
   He cleared his throat and nodded. “Okay. Protection.” He swallowed. “Any other rules?”
   “Just one.” It had to be said. “No talking about Marlee.”
   His features froze. His lips opened and closed. “No, ah, talking about Marlee?”
   “Exactly.” I pushed off, floated into his arms. He caught me. His hands skated over my wet skin reverently, sending ripples in his wake. “I don’t want anything between us, Jimmy. Not anything at all.”
   “Oh God.” He yanked me close. It was a shock, the feel of him so hard and rough against my body, but a delightful one.
   “Nothing between us,” I whispered.
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Her Royal Hotness, Sabrina York, is the New York Times and USA Today Bestselling author of hot, humorous stories for smart and sexy readers. Her titles range from sweet & sexy to scorching romance. Visit her webpage at to check out her books, excerpts and contests.

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Cerise went to #Paris and saw #Napoleon's Tomb, Les Invalides, Anniversary of his death. #Regency dates

Guilded doors at the entrance to the Chapel of San Louis at Les Invalides
where Napoleon is buried in the crypt.
   At age 51, Napoleon Bonaparte died May 5, 1821 on St. Helena thousands of miles from the country he loved and led for nearly two decades.

   Exiled by a coalition of his foes, the former French emperor died alone.
His first wife, Josephine had passed away more than two years before, ironically on the day that he set foot on Elba, the island that was his first exiled home. His second wife, Empress Maria Louisa was not at his side. Nor was his son, the King of Rome, Napoléon François Charles Joseph Bonaparte, a child of ten.

   Though Napoleon died in 1821, his body was not returned to France at his death. In 1821, Louis XVIII, a Bourbon and brother to guillotined Louis XVI, sat the throne, restored to his power by the Allies who had defeated Napoleon in April 1814 and then again at Waterloo in June 18, 1815.

   He was buried under a tree on St. Helena. There he awaited a change in politics in his native country.
   Torn by political upheavals with death of Louis XVIII, the ascension of his brother Charles X, and that man's abdication, then the naming of another Bourbon, Louis-Phillippe to the crown of France, there was much uncertainty in the country. Only as Louis-Phillippe reigned in a passive manner did the consideration of returning Napoleon's body to France become a viable issue for debate.
   December 15, 1840 Napoleon's body arrived in Paris after a sea voyage from St. Helena. With an elaborate plan for a funeral, his body arrived at Le Havre and his coffin placed on a funeral car drawn by 16 black horses, followed by his imperial eagles veiled in crepe. His coffin traveled through Paris, beneath the Arc de Triumph and an estimated one million people greeted its arrival, shouting, "Vive mon grand Napoleon." 

To read more please see:

Thursday, May 7, 2015

@DesireeHolt heats you up with NAKED FLAME, NAKED #Cowboys #6 in #series OUT NOW!

The heat between them burns red hot…until danger turns it white.

Welcome back to Saddle Wells, that little Texas town that seems to be a hotbed of hot sex. Where else can you find so many Naked Cowboys and the women who love them. This time it's a Dallas cop who is burned out on the job and hiding from a drug cartel leader and the weary vet from Afghanistan who takes her to bed and vows to protect her.

Naked Flame
Naked Cowboys, Book 6
Release date: May 7
Now up for preorder

Charity Vance dropped into the chair at her desk, leaned back and ran her hands through her short cap of dark curls. The day had been especially grueling. Testifying in court always made her edgy, but today was especially more so. The takedown of the drug dealer, the gunfight that had erupted that night and the constant tension in the courtroom had all combined to give her the mother of all headaches. Not that every trial didn’t have its own strain, but Paco Morales was truly a power-hungry psycho who didn’t take kindly to having that power disrupted. While she answered the questions from both the district attorney and the defense attorney, she’d called on every bit of self-discipline to be able to look directly at him.
The threats shouted at her as she stepped down from the witness stand still echoed in her ears as she’d left the building and driven back to the police department offices. Hard as she tried, she couldn’t erase Paco Morales’s shouts from her brain.
“I’ll get you, bitch. Prison won’t stop me. My crew will find you wherever you go.”
She hadn’t felt the tension ease up until she’d reached the comfort of the bullpen at the Dallas Police Department. In ten years with the police department, she’d faced a lot of down and dirty, hostile criminals, but none had actually frightened her the way Morales did. Maybe part of it was just exhaustion with the job. The Morales task-force project had been long, intensive and draining. She felt as if every bit of energy had seeped from her body and left her limp and exhausted.
She needed to make some decisions about her future life before the events in this one killed her altogether.
“Still thinking about Morales?”
A gravelly voice interrupted her thoughts. Charity opened her eyes to see Milo Stanton, her lieutenant, standing beside her desk. Tall and heavy set, he looked like the former boxer she’d discovered he’d once been. His jacket was off as usual, his shirtsleeves rolled up and his tie askew. He looked the way he always did, as if he’d pulled an all-nighter and carried the weight of the world on his shoulders. But he also projected a stability that had kept her grounded since she’d joined his squad. The enormous, solid presence had settled her and given her comfort more than once.
Her gaze dropped to the large Starbucks coffee he had the fingers of one large hand wrapped around.
“Oh, bless you, bless you.” She took the cup, lifted the lid and inhaled. Her favorite. Mocha latte topped with whipped cream. She licked the frothy topping before taking a slow sip. “Heaven. Sheer heaven.”
“Better than the mud we serve here,” Stanton agreed. “I figured you’d need it by now. Helen called to tell me she was on her way back from her interview, so I asked her to stop and get it.”
“Blessings to her too.” Charity took another sip, the delicious mocha latte warming her system and easing her frayed nerves.
“Rumor has it the trial was a real pisser.” Stanton hiked a hip onto the corner of her desk. “I heard Paco was pretty vocal with his threats after your testimony.”
“You could definitely say that.” She shrugged. “Nothing I haven’t heard before though.”
“Listen to me.” Stanton locked his gaze with hers. “He’s no one to ignore. His crew is the most vicious of any drug gang in Dallas County, and they have strong ties to a cartel in Mexico.”
“I know, I know. That’s why the task force worked so hard to tie him up tight.”
“And you did good work on that task force too. I got great feedback on your efforts.”
Charity had been one of two detectives from the Dallas PD assigned to work with the Drug Enforcement Agency to take down the Morales crew and follow the links to Mexico.
“Thanks, LT. It was an excellent group to work with.”
“I thought about assigning some protection to you until the trial is over and Morales is out of the area. He’s got the word out on the street that you’re a top target.”
Charity glared at him. “No. And, no. I mean, no.”
“I’m a police officer. You’re going to assign another officer to protect me? We have too many crimes that need solving.”
“And I don’t want your murder to be one of them.” Stanton studied her for a long moment. “There’s another option. You might consider taking some time off until that scum is safely locked away for good. Fully paid, of course. But I do believe you’d be better off out of town for a while.”

Wednesday, April 29, 2015

The Eyes of Bast by Lisabet Sarai, out now!

The Eyes of Bast by Lisabet Sarai

M/F Paranormal/shapeshifter erotic romance
Approximately 26,000 words
Published by Totally Bound, 24 April 2015
Heat rating: 4 Flames

Trust your heart. Follow your dreams. 

Shaina Williams' grandmother bequeathed her that wisdom, along with a old pendant from the Islands, carved from an ocelot's tooth. When instinct tells Shaina to visit the feral cat trap she'd set in Central Park, she listens to that inner voice, She discovers she's caged a magnificent black tom, but the cat inexplicably vanishes after she tends to his wounds. Seeking the errant feline, Shaina encounters instead a handsome stranger whose slightest touch sets her body on fire. As the day dawns after a night of ferocious passion, her mysterious lover is forced back into his true shape - the tomcat she'd rescued.  

Born a cat, Tom was transformed into an unwilling shape shifter by a sorceress who craved a human plaything to satisfy her perverse lusts. Centuries old and irresistibly powerful, Delphine Montserrat will stop at nothing to find her runaway familiar. Shaina vows to do whatever is necessary to defeat the vicious but seductive witch and save the man she believes is her soul mateeven though it might mean losing him forever.

Buy Links

Check out my exclusive interview about the book at Totally Bound!

Follow my blog tour, April 27th through April 30th:

Monday 27th April       Erzabet's Enchantments

Tuesday 28th April      Crystal's Many Reviewers

Wednesday 29th April    Archaeolibrarian

Thursday 30th April     Sapphyria's Steamy Book Blog


Excerpt 1Rated PG

Tom finally broke the kiss and leaned back with a sigh.Ah, Shaina! I should never have allowed you near me. But I was so very lonely... I wasnt thinking straight. Now Ive put you in danger too.

Danger? What kind of danger?I reached over to flick the switch on my reading lamp, so I could read his expressions. Then I seated myself cross-legged at his feet and clasped his hands in mine.Tell me, Tom. Tell me everything.

You will not believe me.

How could I not believe afterafter what I saw this morning?

His brows knotted together.I never wanted you to seeI was careless...

But I did see. And now I know, at least something about you. But I dont know enough to help you out of whatever trouble youre in. Tell me the whole truth. I promise Ill keep it private, if thats what you want. And I promise I wont be shocked.

Toms lush mouth twisted in a grimace of disgust.You might not be able to keep that promise. But never mind. Youve asked. Ill tell you.

He stared off into the distance, above my head.I was born in a small town in coastal Maine, about seven years ago.

Seven years...?

I was born a cat.

I choked down my cry of surprise. How could it be...?

Yes. I was born under a wharf. I spent the first six months of my life as a black kitten, a stray living off the scraps from the fishing boats and clam shacks. Then she caught me and made me her prisoner.


I dont even want to utter her name. Theres danger in the very word. She is a witch, centuries old, a practitioner of the darkest artsthe epitome of evil. Out walking one evening along the rocky shore, she caught sight of me and wanted me as her familiar. It was easy for her to lure me into her clutches.

At first she just used me to facilitate her spells. The rumored powers of black cats are more than just legend. Before long, though, she began to experiment.

His ominous tone sent a chill through my naked body. I pulled the towel around me.

You see, her advanced age hadnt diminished her lust. Quite the opposite. She wanted a sexual plaything, someone she could use to satisfy her perverted desires. A male body she could own and control. So she delved into her books of magic, seeking a spell that would turn her poor innocent feline familiar into a manat least when she wanted him that way.

Her first attempts failed.Tom shuddered at the recollection.She barely managed to save my life. I guess shed grown fond of me at that pointin her own twisted way.

Oh, Tom...

Finally, she found a ritual that would change an animal into a human during the hours when the sun was banished from the earth. Ill never forget the terror of that first transformation, when I found myself wobbling on two legs in front of her naked body. It was even worse than what came after.

What was that?

Oh, ShainaI was human, but scarcely a man. I was barely thirteen.

Excerpt 2Rated R

Go check the old elm. I swear, the voice was clear as crystal in my mind. Lack of sleep, I told myself. Or stress. The cage is still in my apartment. There wont be anything there. But the urge to go back to the park just wouldnt let go.

Trust your instincts. With a sigh, I turned and headed for the park, pulling my mace out of my purse as I walked.

The sky was still light enough for me to see shapes and shadows, even under the trees. As Id expected, area beneath the elm was empty, the grass trampled from my previous visit. Of course no cats revealed themselves. If there were ferals around, theyd be hiding in the underbrush, wary of my scent and the sounds I made, despite my attempts to move quietly.

Tom wasnt afraid of you. The thought made me ache. Hed been such a gorgeous, affectionate cat. I hoped he was okay.

Hello.The voice was male, low and throaty. I jumped and whirled around.

A man stood behind me, a fairly young man with sleek, dark skin and a wide, shy smile. Although his body appeared to be fit and muscular, he held himself in an awkward manner, as if he had some subtle handicap. His arms hung at his sides, his hands clenching and unclenching as though he didnt quite know what to do with them.

I gripped my mace more tightly, although he didnt appear at all threatening.

Umwhat are you doing here?

Nothing, nothing...He shrugged and scratched the curly black locks that covered his head.I heard your voice. I wanted to make sure you were all right.

Had I spoken aloud? I returned his smile, still uncertain whether I should trust him.Im fine. Just taking a walk.

Its not safe here after dark, you know.

His earnest tone made me chuckle. I held up the can of mace.I can take care of myself.

Worry furrowed his high forehead.That wont help against some of the things that come out at night.

A chill shot through me. I shook it away.I was just headed home anyway.

Good. You should be careful.His smile returned, melting my last vestiges of suspicion. He pronounced his English with a precision that made me wonder if he spoke something else as his native language. It wasnt exactly an accent, but I could tell he wasnt a native New Yorker.

What about you?

OhI know my way around here,he answered. He ran his fingers through his curls and arched his back a bit, as though stretching. Despite that odd awkwardness, he was lithe and graceful. A brief pang of desire shot through me.And I have excellent night vision. Exceptionally sharp hearing, too.

I couldnt figure out why, but something about him felt familiar.Have we met before?I asked, then cringed, realizing it sounded like a pick up line.I meanumI dont mean…” Hot blood climbed into my cheeks, though the shadows were probably too dense for him detect my discomfort.

His bold laugh rang out in the growing darkness.Maybe we have met,he said.I live in the neighborhood. Do you?

Pretty close,I answered, alarm bells sounding in my head. No matter how handsome and charming he was, I wasnt about to give him my address.

Well, then, you never know. You said you were heading home. May I walk with you?He took my arm without waiting for my permission.

Umactually—” His touch stopped me cold. It drove out rational thought. As if someone had turned on a faucet, hormones poured into my blood. My nipples tensed and my lower lips grew plump and slick. His fingers on my bare forearm were tipped with fire. I gasped, staring up in wonder at his strong, even features, overcome by his imminent maleness.

I wanted stretch out in the grass and pull him down on top of me. I was dying to feel his weight on my chest, his hardness probing between my thighs. Skin on skin was what I craved, with an urgency Id never experienced in my all my twenty-eight years.

His nostrils flared and I knew hed caught the ocean scent rising from my sex. I could smell it myself. My saturated panties and jeans were no barrier. He grinned, revealing teeth so white they gleamed in the twilight gloom. I shuddered with need, imagining those teeth tearing my flesh, and stumbled on the gravel path.