Tuesday, October 28, 2014

Cerise loves #Paris! Come #travel with me! Part One!

Saint Chappelle built by
Louis IX
an exquisite elaborate confection
in mid Paris
So many of you know I DIG history. I love, love, heart it and try to give everyone a flavor of the Real Deal in my Regencies and my Medievals.

But I also luv to travel and when I do, I soak up the real deals and find those kernels to put into my novels.  Always when doing that, it is soooo vital to refrain from telling all—or as hubby puts it, NOT hang the draperies. (As in, I don't want to know the color, the texture of the drapes unless, of course, they are the green velvet drapes in Scarlett's drawing room and she has no clothes with which to tempt Rhett...and you get me!)

So. In that effort to entertain you with my travels...and later my stories, I have just returned from 2 glorious weeks in Paris. Two. WEEKS.
Yes, ma cherie e mon cher, I went, I saw, I ate, I walked, I lost 2 inches....

But here for your reading pleasure are a few introductory tidbits, for your eyes and heart and soul's satisfaction.

I will take you with me in the coming days on my travels via my copious pictures. With their historic significance attached. Some of which I will use in intriguing new ways in my forthcoming novels for your pleasure.
Laduree, Restaurant on Champs Elysee
where they also make Macaroons

So do return here!

Basically, what did we do in our two weeks in Paris?

Well! We went out of our rented apartment in Montmarte every day. EVERY day. Rain or shine. Ran between the rain drops, soaked up the Metro and the bullet train experiences and went to a different exciting place. Cathedrals, castles, palaces, chateaux, museums, city places, and yes, restaurants for hot chocolate that coats your tongue with creamy goodness and cafe au lait that does the same.

Escargots. Lamb. Onion tart. (Really? Yes!) Linguine with escargots, shallots and truffles in a divine cream sauce. And yes, and there is more!
Charles de Gaulle
astride the Place de la Concorde
Pictures?
Here is a wild sample!
Feast!
You know who is buried here!
Napoleon, of course!
Gives me chills every time I see this.
Was I alive then? Did I know him?
This stunning church is not in Paris.
And this picture is not from this year's trip but last year's.
I love it for its unique place in history.
This is the church in a little town in the Argonne forest.
Know it?
Called Varennes, this town was also headquarters to General Pershing in the Great War.
This church was the one in which
Louis XVI and his wife Marie Antoinette sought refuge from the Revolutionary rabble in 1790.
The townspeople turned the royal family over to the Parisians who took them back to Paris,
locked Louis up separately from his wife and children whom they put in the
Conciergerie, in the same building as Saint Chappelle (above).
From there, they took her to the guillotine.
A sad little church. 

Tuesday, October 21, 2014

Like your #Regency #romances with a spark of suspense? Try Cerise DeLand's LADY STARLING'S STOCKINGS!


LADY STARLING’S STOCKINGS


Lady Solange Starling catches spies easily. But one moonlit evening, she spots a daring man who once saved her from death—and stole her heart. A man, who even in his youth, carved his place in her life and her reverie.
Monsieur Noir, he calls himself. And so he is, a man living in shadows, dark and dangerous to all he encounters. Now he demands he join her to find one of Napoleon’s dastardly agents. But can Solange work with Noir without taking him into her arms~and her bed? And if she spends one daring night in Noir’s strong arms, will she be able to part from him and ever live again?

LADY STARLING'S STOCKINGS, 99 Cents in Kindle http://tinyurl.com/3orc36e 
and AllRomanceebooks.com at http://tinyurl.com/3h2b4b3

A nibble of my newest cherry?
Of Course!
Excerpt, Copyright 2011, Cerise DeLand. All rights reserved.

Naples, Italy
Evening, October 5, 1815
The evening seemed eternal! Solange read Byron and fretted. Sent two hot bricks up to her maid Cora, brought low by the rain today to her bed in the upstairs servants’ quarters. Then she wrote to her Aunt Minette, James’s mother, and walked the floor. She even played a vicious and solitary game of chess and threw the board, pieces and all, across the room. Still, Noir did not come.
If she could not relieve herself from the anxiety of holding her secrets, she would look like the ravages of hell at breakfast. Why did he not appear? Her visit below stairs had been most profitable. Her visit with James, minutes later in his study, much more so. Noir must learn it all.
Yet, what detained him? Where are you, Etienne? Are you reluctant to come tonight? Afraid I might not welcome you? Or need you?
Clutching her dressing gown around her, she marched to her boudoir window three stories above the Via Espana.  No one walked out at this small hour of the morning. The rain broke into torrents, lightning crashed and a downpour obscured the details of the other houses along the boulevard.
A sleek black coach trotted past her door, only to pause at the garden. Had a figure emerged from the cab? She wiped the moisture from the glass, but her vision became no clearer. Her hands upon the latch, she satisfied herself that her balcony doors were indeed unlocked and accessible from the garden terrace.
Climbing into her bed, she lay on her back, folded her hands like a day-old corpse and waited for Noir.
Many minutes later, she heard the latch on the French doors give and the pounding of the deluge become louder as someone entered from the balcony and shut out the sounds of the world. Exhausted but satisfied he had arrived, Solange called to him from the bed.
In the flashes of lightning, she watched his powerful silhouette stop and scan the room. “Do not stand there and drip on my carpet, mon cher.” She flung back her covers. “The night is ugly and we both need warmth.”
“Solange, no,” he murmured, pleading for reprieve from the intimacy she offered.
“Come, Noir. I will not leave this bed.”
Cursing, he divested himself of cloak, boots, coat and stock. Striding to her side, he slid in beside her. Once this close, she knew he would do as he had always done when this near to her. He encompassed her in his arms and she lifted her bare leg to curl around his hips and welcome him to her. He did not object, neither did he move.
“You are chilled,” she murmured, a frisson of delight traveling her spine.
“I am never ill.”
“How well I recall. You could eat nothing, hunt for game or scout for soldiers all day and never tire.”
“To weaken is to lose,” he told her, his lips to her forehead, his tone grim. “You went out with Giorgio today.”
“I did,” she offered simply, replaying the tone of Noir’s voice, listening for the jealousy she sought like a starving child.
“What did you learn?”
Her palm upon his chest, she caressed his well-hewn muscles. Then with an indifference she used like a knife, she said, “He wishes to have me as his own.”
Noir snorted. “Bastard. Of course he wants the lovely English woman. So does every man worth his salt in this city.”
Wondering if Noir would admit to counting himself among those men, she snuggled into him and kissed his throat. The aroma of his musk met her nostrils, the fragrance balm to her soul and spur to her desire.
He cupped her nape, holding her still. “You refused him?”
She sighed. “You and I both suspect him of treachery. We have tried to learn his actions and failed. It seems the best course. I concluded I should accept him.”
Noir pulled back, their gazes locked as the lightning struck to illuminate the room. “You do not wish the man.”
“I wish only to complete my work.”
Noir’s arms tightened. “Such sacrifice is not required.”
“Of course it is. You know it. Recount what you have lost since the Terror. Your entire family. Your lands and your–”
His body went rigid. “I did not relinquish those. They were taken from me.”
“And what do you sacrifice to gain any of it back?”
“Do I work for that?” he asked as if he had never before considered it.
 “You live in the shadows,” she persisted. ”Running spies in foreign cities. How do you live? Where? Why have I not seen you–” she tempered her tones of sorrow, “–not seen you in years?” She pressed a tiny kiss to the corner of his mouth.
He flinched. “You have no idea what I have given to the cause of restoration of my rights.”
She heard the bitterness in his words. “I can imagine, mon cher. I can help you and you must not forbid it.”
“Not to give your body to a man who will not respect you! No!”
She tore from his grasp and rolled to her feet. Naked, she rejoiced when the storm obliged her with another bright strike of lightning. Noir drank her in, like wine for his soul.  “You cannot stop me, Etienne.”
“Darling Solange, he is not worthy to touch you.” He sprang from the bed and came round to press her to the wall. “How can you expect me to sanction such an act?”
Her heart leaped at his words. Would that he could stop her and make her his alone. “We must learn who aids Murat in this house. Time grows short. If Murat invades and wins back Naples, Bonaparte can return to the Continent!”
“To hell with Bonaparte!” He took her by the shoulders. “The British sail him off to St. Helena.”
“He escaped them six months ago. He could again!”
“Never!” Noir gave her a shake. “I will not let you take that Italian crow to your bed!”
“You have no say!” she incited him., even as her body flooded with delight.
I do! I have earned a say. Once, twice and now…”
“Now, what?” She wrenched to be free of him.
“After last night?”
At the memory of their passion, her heart raced.  Her nipples hardened.  Her pussy pounded, gushing with joy that he would recall them together on her bed. Still, she knew to provoke him or lose the moment. “We shared nothing!” she flung at him. You saw to it.
“We could not!”
“No? You left me wanting, needing–“ She pushed at him, all the hurt she’d experienced fueled her movements. “After all we are to each other and all these years of yearning, you left me, Etienne.”
He yanked her close. “How could I make love to you?”
“How could you not?” she demanded.
“I cannot have you!”
“Who forbids it?”
“My conscience! What if we loved and tomorrow escapes us?”
Mon cher,” she mourned, “it always did.”
He stared at her, hunger and remorse in his stance and in his eyes, desire. “Why do you think I never came to you before this? Why do you think I ran a courier between us? Why?”
She raised her chin and arched her brows at him.
“I did not want to see you. Not face-to-face. I could not. From afar, I saw enough.” His face fell lax with sorrow. “You were so lovely. Yet you appeared so forlorn. Even as a debutante, you roused men. And as a bride to that idiot Starling, you dazzled. Other men spoke of you. Wished for you. Rejoiced when Starling died, thinking like fools they might attract you.”
“What could you care?” she tossed at him, needing his own declarations of desire.
“Care? I cared. I pined like a boy. Wanted you like a man.” He clamped her so close, she melted at the pressure of his cock against her belly.  “As you grew older, after you were widowed, I knew your life and I knew if we met again what would happen between us.”
“Did you? Sure of your charms, are you?” she taunted him, roiled he had purposely stayed away and yet had longed for her.
He crushed her against him. This time, his cock rode her cleft and she whimpered. “No coyness for me, my pet. You and I came to care for each other long ago. When survival depended on trust and mutual responsibility.”
The proof of his desire was a torment and she undulated against him.Still you deny us both any pleasure.” She wrapped her arms around his waist and cuddled so near she could be absorbed into his skin. “The finest bliss I ever knew was with you. The exhilaration of escape. The thrill of victory against all those hundreds who hunted us. The years between our meetings have been so fraught with the perils of ordinary living. And no affection. Or love. How can you refuse the opportunity to seize bliss?”
His expression, so bleak, so stern, shattered. “The devil knows. I do not.”
---
Hope you will read all of Solange and Noir’s story--and then try my other Regencies.  
RENDEZVOUS WITH A DUKE, #2 Regency Romps
LADY VARNEY'S RISQUE BUSINESS, #1 Regency Romps
HIS DELECTABLE COOK (Be Warned: A Very Sexy A Quatre!)
And Coming soon: THE STANHOPE CHALLENGE: A REGENCY QUARTET, 4 Brothers, 4 Love Affairs, One Family Curse!
See www.cerisedeland.com for a full list!

Monday, October 20, 2014

He's in charge at night! TINA DONAHUE tells you why!

During the day, she’s in charge—at night, he’ll take command of her body, their desires…

Dominance and discipline. Alexandra hungers for both from Daniel, the lead engineer on her Alaskan energy project. She imagines him punishing then mounting her while his team watches. Full-figured, Alexandra hasn’t had much luck with guys, especially ones so potently male. To change that, she invites Daniel to teach her submission to his most carnal needs. She also invites his men.
For too long, Daniel’s craved Alexandra’s lush figure and smarts. However, she’s his boss, it’s not wise to mix business with pleasure, and no damn way does he intend to share her. After one lusty night of her submitting to him and his men, Daniel claims Alexandra as his sub. On his terms. No regrets. No strings.
Yeah, right.
Tell that to their hearts.

Inside scoop: Alexandra and Daniel set things on fire with a brief ménage. Lucky girl has several men to fulfill her needs!
Excerpt

Nat closed the door. The wind pulled it shut with a loud bang. She jerked. Daniel didn’t seem to notice the noise. He moved into her.
Stunned, Alexandra couldn’t budge. He was closer than he’d ever been. She caught his scent, a woodsy, masculine fragrance, clean and inviting. It mingled with the crisp aroma of snow on his parka and the fabric softener he’d used on his brown-and-cream flannel shirt. Several strands of his wind-tousled hair caressed his forehead and bristly cheeks. God love him, he hadn’t shaved.
She ached to run her fingers over his upper lip and chin.
Daniel didn’t give her the chance. With surprising ease, he slung his arm over her shoulder and drew her into him, their bodies touching. A jolt of desire hit Alexandra so hard she had to bite back a moan. His heat was incredible, chasing away the chill of his coat and the air she’d let inside. Nearly a head taller than her, he seemed enormous, virile, dangerous, and seductive.
Her heart beat out of time. They were near enough to kiss. His mouth rich and full, the stuff of her most salacious fantasies.
“You still want to do this?” he asked, low enough so the others wouldn’t hear.
Surprised by his question, she nodded. To have him leave now would be unthinkable.
“You feel safe?” he added.
His casual embrace ensured it, as though they were dating, comfortable with each other. “Yes, of course.”
Even though he didn’t have feelings for her, other than what appeared to be lust, he was a good man. He wouldn’t deliberately hurt her. Why was he asking?
He didn’t seem convinced of her answer. “You need to be certain,” he said. “This ends now unless you explicitly trust what’s going to happen.”
Alexandra started to perspire. “I do…what did you have in mind?”
Daniel studied her for a long moment, his expression unreadable, though there was a hint of indecency in his eyes. Heat prickled Alexandra’s cheeks and forehead, nourished by excitement not fear. Whatever he’d planned, she was definitely all for it. Downright eager.
“Everything,” he answered, parroting what she’d said yesterday. “I’m in charge. Not you. Not any of the other guys. Me, alone. If you can’t accept that, then this is over right—”
She interrupted, “I accept it.” He’d honored his part of their bargain by showing up and taking over in the best possible way. Now, Alexandra would honor hers. “You’re the boss.”
Delight danced in his eyes. “Yes, I am.”
He cupped the back of her head and pulled her into him, their thighs and bellies snuggled together. Alexandra inhaled sharply. Before she could release her breath on a wanting sigh, he slanted his mouth over hers and slipped his tongue between her lips.
God. She sagged against him, shocking need tearing through her, rendering Alexandra helpless and weak. If not for Daniel’s solid body, she would have dropped to the floor.
Tightening his hold, he deepened their kiss, his mouth greedy and demanding, hers loose and impassioned beneath his. She nestled closer. He ground his hips into hers, his opened parka allowing her to feel his erection, rock solid, long as freaking hell. Alexandra dug her fingers into his coat, wanting it off and them naked, him inside her.
Despite her wayward lust, Daniel didn’t stop and strip. He enjoyed her leisurely, fully, his tongue dancing with hers, then sweeping over her teeth. He tasted of minty toothpaste and a flavor that was unique to him which spoke of good health, a male at the height of his power. Alexandra finally moaned, unable to help herself. Daniel offered a faint growl in return, then broke their kiss and rested his forehead against hers.
As a lover and friend might do.
His behavior was so unexpected and enchanting, she lost all reserve and breathed, “I like you being in charge.”
He made a noise that sounded of contentment and amusement, then traced her jawline with his finger. “We’ll see.”


  
BIO:

     Tina Donahue is an award-winning, bestselling novelist in erotic, paranormal, contemporary and historical romance for Samhain Publishing, Ellora’s Cave, Siren Publishing, and Kensington. Booklist, Publisher’s Weekly, Romantic Times and numerous online sites have praised her work. Three of her erotic romances (Adored, Lush Velvet Nights, and Deep, Dark, Delicious) were named finalists in the 2011 EPIC competition. The French review site, Blue Moon reviews, chose her erotic romance Sensual Stranger as their Book of the Year 2010 (erotic category). The Golden Nib Award at Miz Love Loves Books was created specifically for Lush Velvet Nights, and two of her titles (The Yearning and Deep, Dark, Delicious) received an Award of Merit in the RWA Holt Medallion competition (2011 and 2012). Take Me Away and Adored both won second place in the NEC RWA contest (different years). Tina is featured in the 2012 Novel & Short Story Writer’s Market. She was the editor of an award–winning Midwestern newspaper and worked in Story Direction for a Hollywood production company.


Sunday, October 19, 2014

COCKED AND LOADED, Desiree Holt does it again!

When Jamie Randall kicked the dust of Amen, Texas from her heels, she swore neither the town nor the bad boy she'd given her virginity to would never see her again. Yet here she is, returning under a cloud of disgrace, not a penny to her name or a soul to welcome her--least of all the sheriff. Jamie Randall—a decade hadn’t lessened the bitter taste of her name. Zane Cameron had only been good enough for sultry summer sex. But the local hell raiser is the sheriff now and determined to run her hot little body off the worthless piece of land her father left her and right out of his sleepy little town. Just as soon as he scratched a twelve-year-old itch.  Explosive passion changes Zane’s mind, but before they can explore their feelings, strange events threaten Jamie and it becomes obvious someone else wants her out of the way.  Dirty money, cold-blooded murder, and deadly secrets interfere with Zane’s plans to convince Jamie to give him a second chance.


He closed the last little bit of distance between them, his eyes burning into hers like twin torches. Then his mouth was on hers, just like the day before, burning her, sucking the life out of her while infusing it back into her body. She wanted to hit him, push him away, but her traitorous arms wounds up around his neck and clung to him, holding his head to hers. Her panties were already soaked, and that old familiar quiver raced through the muscles of her cunt.
His tongue probed her mouth, taking, taking. There was nothing gentle about this kiss. And to her shame she gave as good as she got. She couldn’t have moved away if her life was threatened, not even when his hands slid down to reach under her T-shirt and cup her breasts through the thin cotton of her bra. One touch of those rough-silken lips and those big hot hands and her brain simply melted away.
His tongue had a life of its own, probing into the recesses of her mouth, licking, tasting, teasing. His fingers pinched her nipples just hard enough to cause a shiver of pleasure-pain. She hung onto him for dear life, drowning in the sensations that assaulted her body.
The harder he tugged on her nipples, the more he plundered her mouth, the weaker her legs became until she wasn’t sure she could stand at all if she took her arms from his neck.
When every bit of breath had left her lungs, he lifted his mouth just a fraction, tracing the edge of her lips with the tip of his tongue. “Jamie?”
“Mmm?” She forced her eyes open.
“You using your old bedroom?”
“What? My bedroom?”
He extricated himself from her grip and lifted her in his arms. “Your bedroom. I’m going to fuck the life out of you, and I don’t want to do it on that ratty old couch.”
She could barely focus enough to from clitoris to vaginal opening and back, gathering the cream she knew was gushing from her. He lifted the finger to his mouth and sucked on it.
“Taste good, too. Just as I’ve remembered point toward the stairs. “Yes. Same room. Second door on the right.”
Later, when her brain kicked into gear again and she could pluck one rational thought from it, she’d wonder why she hadn’t just ordered Zane Cameron out of her house. He certainly wouldn’t take her by force. That wasn’t his style. No, even after all this time, he knew just which buttons to push and how to push them, and in an instant all her defenses were down. But at the moment, all she could think of was how good he felt next to her and the explosion his kisses had set off in her body.
He held her against his chest as he took the steps two at a time. Using his foot, he pushed the door to her room open and in seconds had her flat on her back on her clean white sheets, legs dangling over the edge of the bed. She opened her eyes again to see him staring at her with a look of intense hunger on his face, and instantly heat warmed her blood.
With hands that shook slightly, he pulled the T-shirt over her head, disposed of her bra, and stripped her shorts and panties from her, tossing everything to the floor. Then he bent her knees and spread her thighs wide, exposing her to his ravenous gaze.
He drew in a deep, ragged breath, and let it out slowly. “God, Jamie, you have the most gorgeous cunt in the world.”





Friday, October 17, 2014

Mile High Club? Are you a member? This lady CEO is! Check out her bodyguard! And a naked man in Paris!

   Flying high with some guy in the sky was never a fantasy Amanda Prescott ever indulged in.  At 50, the sexy widow wants to build her deceased husband's company to world class status--starting in the Middle East.
   So when she hires 35-year-old ex-Marine Jake Wilcox as her bodyguard, Amanda anticipates the flight to Dubai in her private jet will be a tantalizing opportunity to feast her eyes on Jake's toned body.
A nibble of this cherry?

Intro to scene:
Sizing up the curvy boss lady, Jake realizes what Amanda really needs to seal the deal in Dubai is to display the allure of a demanding, confident woman. And what better way to help her rediscover assertiveness than a few hot hours in mile-high ecstasy?  His skill brings out the naughty side in Amanda, showing her pleasure and dominance are a delicious combo.  But when the plane lands, will Amanda be able to assert her power position to seal the deal in both business and love? 

Copyright 2009 Cerise DeLand. All rights reserved.

What she wanted now was more of Jake Wilcox. More of his hands and lips all over her.  She wanted his unabashed sexuality. His humor. His persistence. So virile and rational. Yes, she wanted him badly.
Argggh! She headed for her balcony, slid open the doors, rubbed her arms and leaned on the rail to gaze out over the alabaster city of Dubai just now waking to dawn. I am awakening to the consequences of what I have done. And what I must do. What I must ask him.
She whirled for the connecting door. Just as she reached out to open it, three loud knocks sounded. She pulled it open to see Jake standing there, bare to the waist, blond hair wet from his shower, a pair of lounge pants hanging on his jutting hip bones. And in his eyes, was the sweet, appealing look of a little boy who had lost his way.
“How are you?” he rasped.
“Well, now that I—” Oh, what the hell, she’d come so far with him—she’d come so often with him, she could be real with him about other things, couldn’t she? Shouldn’t she? “Now that I see you again, I’m better.”
He hauled her up in his arms and clamped her so tightly that he squeezed the air out of her. “Thank God. I worried.” He claimed her mouth in a marauder’s kiss. “You know any time you can say this never happened—and I’ll play it like that.” He framed her face with his huge hot hands. “I’ll be the good little employee.”
She chuckled. “I want you,” she kissed him back, “to be the big bad lover.”
          He swept her up in his arms and strode toward her bedroom. “Just my thought.” Then he laid her tenderly down. He posed her just so, hair fanned on the silken cover, arms out like his sacrifice, legs pressed against her chest as he bent and spread her out as if she were his prize. “I need you. I’m addicted.”
 * * * * *
And while you're in the mood for fast, might you also fancy a quick trip to Paris?
Delish.
Here is my Paris Expose!
Paris Expose:
A young American artist moves to Paris, opens her curtains one morning and there is the most delicious man. Naked.

A nibble?
Copyright 2009 Cerise DeLand. All rights reserved.
Come soon, Andre. She glanced over to the
mantel clock. Ten minutes after ten. Late. Where was he?
As if on cue, he strolled into view in his window opposite hers.
           As every day before, his beauty took her breath
away.
He was a big man, sculpted but lithe, filling the
window and her whole world with his black-haired
handsomeness. This morning, as each one before, he
grinned at her as his cock rose to greet her without
putting a finger to himself—just by staring at her—
and grinning. Today, he smoked no cigarette but
glanced down at his cock as it filled with blue-veined
desire and reached toward her. His long winged
brows arched as he taunted her with a few pumps of
his cock, making her cunt juice up as he pulled his
thick head to a blunt point and rubbed the tip when
drops of cum appeared. Then, just as his lambent
eyes began to close, just as she became breathless
and fearful he would step back into the shadows of
his condo, she jumped up from the arm of the sofa.
“Don’t go,” she pleaded in English, as if he could
hear her.
He paused, noting her approach. It was
different, new, to interrupt him.
Dee swallowed all her inhibitions and did the
one thing she had planned for this morning.
She grasped her shirt at the hem, pulled it over
her head and threw it aside. Shaking out her long
blonde hair so that her fat finger curls draped
around her naked nipples, she paused to catch her
breath.
Did she imagine that he caught his?
Yes, he had. He was immobile as a statue,
focused on her. She glanced down at how her areolas
pointed toward him and she preened, grinning at
him.
His lush mouth spread wide in delight. And he
arched a black brow at her as if to ask, what else?
She tipped her head and laughed lightly. Then
she reached in back of her to flick open the button on
her skirt, and in one shimmy, the thing fell to the
floor.
She raised her face to view his. And oh, she was

not disappointed.
* * * * *
Find Cerise:
Cerise's website: http://cerisedeland.com
Like me on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/cerisedelandauthor
Follow me on Twitter: @cerisedeland 
Goodreads: Cerise DeLand