Friday, September 24, 2010
Sunday, September 19, 2010
Saturday, September 18, 2010
Award-winner Desiree Holt and I have collaborated to bring you UNTIL THE DAWN, the first in a series starring savvy sexy women who always get their men. Nemesis is a very special ops group, owned and staffed by women. Their men can work...for them, and do, in a big way.
You want to come read these stories!
Danger has new mistresses. Nemesis.
You'll be thrilled.
(buy link: www.jasminejade.com/ps-8497-50-until-the-dawn.aspx )
Friday, September 17, 2010
Thursday, September 16, 2010
Like Covert Affairs?
How about Burn Notice?
You'll love Desiree Holt's and my new erotic thriller series, Nemesis. UNTIL THE DAWN is the first, debuting tomorrow at Ellora's Cave www.jasminejade.com/ps-8497-50-until-the-dawn.aspx .
“I don’t do things like this.” She knew she repeated herself but she had to emphasize it especially when she now knew she planned to spend all night with him in her bed. Him deep inside her, deeper than he had been. Going deeper still, far up into her heart. And that last was her greatest fear. Her unique adventure.
He waited, a mellow smile broadening his handsome lips.
“I don’t invite men here to make love to me,” she told him with a serenity that came with knowing she was about to strip naked and enjoy this man as she had no other. “I don’t invite staff to make love to me.”
He stood, a statue, listening, watching, waiting to give her all the time she needed to reveal her trepidations. “And?”
“I don’t make love with men who have reputations to make.”
She nodded, as he wrestled for a fleeting moment with an expression of insult that had crossed his face. But then she said, “I don’t make love mindlessly.”
His mouth softened as he whispered, “Like you did with me?”
Once more, she nodded, and boldly stated, “I don’t make love often.”
He smiled, a sweet parting of his manly mouth, a tender caress of his gaze over her body. “Like you will with me?”
“Yes,” she breathed. “Oh, yes.”
“Well, then,” he came away from the wall, taking small sure steps toward her as he spoke. “You need to hear that I don’t make love to my bosses.”
She snorted, pleased, thrilled that he realized what she needed here was some reciprocity to put them on sound footing. “Your resumé says you’ve had only four.”
He nodded. “The first two were men.” He winked. “Not my style.”
She grinned now.
He took another step toward her. “The next two were women. Not my type.”
She beamed at him.
Another step had him taking her hands in his. “I don’t make love to women I don’t care about.”
She inhaled sharply.
He raised her hands to kiss each of her fingertips in turn. “I’ve outgrown the one-night stands, Maddie. The quick lays that leave you feeling like a cave man.” He pressed both her palms to his cheeks and his torso to hers. “I want a relationship that means something bigger. With one woman. With brains.” He smoothed her hair. “And beauty.” He kissed her eyelids. “And a body.” He cupped her ass and pushed her groin to his. “And a passion for me.”
She wound her arms around his massive shoulders and pressed her breasts against his solid chest. “I think you’ve got her.”
(copyright 21010, Cerise DeLand & Desiree Holt. All rights reserved.)
Monday, September 13, 2010
Now that I live in Texas, believe me, I have met quite a few hard drivin' men!!!!
Do you have one at home? How DO you handle him? Does he learn to be agreeable and if so, for what? And why?
Would love to know!
Come see if you like this one! He’s rancher with the hots for the gal next door who has always been elusive. And now?
Here’s a nibble of my newest cherry:
I need you. His eyes fell closed. I need you. Precisely the words he’d vowed to pay heaven and hell to get from Jessica Spencer Hardwick’s lush lips. Not precisely the reason for them today, but he could live with that. Work with that. He’d been wracking his brain trying to find a way to get her alone and talk to her while he was home here on leave. He had only one more week left to have his say. One more week before he had to let his commanding officer know of his decision to reenlist. One more week to tell her how he cared before he got too old and regretted his failure to pursue her. Here was his chance to take her away and declare to her what he wanted for half his lifetime.
All those nights freezing in the mountains north of Kandahar. All those days frying in the sun south of Bagdad. All the years he’d envied his brother Clint for being old enough, wise enough, to marry sassy, sexy, funny Jess.
Trey had tried to find a woman who matched her. The startling lime green eyes. The strawberry blonde curls. The lithe little body that moved like water.
Damn. He ran a hand through his hair and muttered about being between a rock and a painfully hard cock. Since he discovered he wanted her at the old age of fourteen, how many women had he tried to care for? Since he was old enough to vote, for pity sakes, how many women had he slept with and wished they were her? Too many to count. Senior year in high school. Up at Texas Tech. At so many of his duty posts State-side over the ten years he’d been enlisted. Try as he did, no one compared to the lovely, laughing memory of her down by the creek with him every Saturday morning. Or the vision of her standing in his kitchen with his brother Clint as they told his mother and father they were getting married. Soon. No, she hadn’t been pregnant, but they wanted each other. Badly. So they were bent on getting married right after they graduated high school. Her folks and his father had not approved, but Clint was determined to get her before any other guys did. The plan to marry had sounded good to both of them. But the best made plans can get a hitch in them, can’t they?
He inhaled. Hooked his hands in his belt loops and shook his head. What he wanted he meant to have. He’d suffered too much, fought too long for his country, seen too many of his buddies die without getting what they yearned for not to take the bull by the horns now. So he swung around and faced her.
Damn, what a sweet piece she was. No teased hair. No lipstick or eyeliner. No push-up bra. He harrumphed. Like she needed anything to look like the tastiest dish he’d ever wanted to eat up. Devour. Slowly.
“Trey?” She took a step forward, fear dimming her big beautiful eyes. “Please tell me if you’ll do let me bring my cattle over here to--”
“Oh, you bet I will, Jess.”
The smile she began with spread into a joyous grin. She clasped her hands. “Oh, Trey! Thank you! I—“
“But I need something in return.”
“Fair enough. I told you I’d pay. So name your price! I earned so much from my auction that I’m—”
“I don’t want your money.”
She tilted her head. “No? But Trey, I can pay for this. I’ve not only dug my ranch out of debt these past three years but I have savings. If I can get through this drought, I can build up this insemination business to a huge success.”
“I know you have done well.” He forced himself to stand there, look stern and not move a muscle. All the better to appear impervious. And win here.
“So then!” She spread her arms wide. “Why not let me pay you?”
“I want something else from you.”
Her hands fell to slap against her shapely thighs. “Name it.”
Oh, Christ, what if she refuses? “Two days and nights with you.”
Her lush lashes fluttered and her mouth worked at words. “Say that again.”
Steady, boy, let her come to you. “You heard me.”
Her brows knit. “To do what?”
(copyright 2010, Cerise Deland. All rights reserved.)
Wednesday, September 1, 2010
(The cover on the left is my new release starring a Texas Ranger and the lady who owns the local bake shop, over at http://www.total-e-bound.com/ out Sept. 20!)
Hailing from Baltimore as I do, I consider the best crab cakes come from the Chesapeake area and here, I attempt to give you the rendition that combines the glories of Obryki's, English's, the old and loved Hausner's, a few great little bars in Highlandtown and Dundalk, plus the glory of --yes, drum roll--Old Bay seasoning!
GREAT CRAB MEAT (I buy mine lately at Costco, lump from Asia, but if you live in Maryland or DC or New Jersey, find the best where you are.)
1/3 c. mayo (I use low-fat, and it is just as good as FAT)
3 T. brown mustard/ dijon if you prefer
1 T. worcestershire
1 t. salt
1 T. OLD BAY
1 beaten egg
fresh parsely, chopped finely
add in the crab and then add:
3/4 c. of bread crumbs (store bought is fine and even Italian is good!)
Mix it all together and get your hands good and crabby!
Makes 6 really nice sized cakes or 12 smaller ones for nibbles.
Pan fry in 2-4 T. butter. BUTTER! BUTTER!
The smaller ones? Really great to feed each other!
Serve with worcestershire and saltines, Baltimore/Charm City style.
Good beer helps too!