Delicious Romance From Cerise DeLand...

Tracey Kitts grabs life by the fangs with her Werewolf Tamer! YUM!

2012-01-27T00:09:00.010-06:00

Listen to them, the children of the night … Hey, they’re not just for Halloween anymore. These days you keep hearing the term “paranormal romance” more and more. But a lot of people are still unclear about exactly what that means. Hopefully, I can help answer a few questions here and maybe help you decide if paranormal romance is something you or a friend might enjoy.

“My name is Tracey H. Kitts, and I write paranormal romance.” That simple statement usually gets me more weird looks than admitting I think Dracula is sexy. I was at an event the other day and a woman picked up one of my flyers. She read it and said, “Oh, I like romance, but what does paranormal mean?”

I said, “Well, in my case it means there are werewolves and vampires involved.” She wrinkled her nose and said, “Oh, I don’t like anything weird.” Really? That’s why she was about to buy a copy of Terminator. Cause people sending their father back in time to get their mom pregnant while avoiding capture/termination by a cybernetic nemesis is “normal.”

Another misconception is that the word paranormal only relates to ghosts or horror. While it could mean that, the literal interpretation is anything that is out of the ordinary. So many people I talk to are shocked when they realize that True Blood is a paranormal romance. Twilight also falls into this category. These stories could be about demons, angels, witches, anything out of the ordinary and of course, romance.

My latest release, Frank and The Werewolf Tamer is about a vampire and a modern (and sexy) version of Frankenstein. To me, paranormal romance is an adventure for women. We just happen to consider a relationship to be part of the adventure. I believe that people crave something different.

The two most common creatures of the night in this type of story are werewolves and vampires. When you think about it, it’s not a mystery why they have such appeal. Wolves for example, mate for life. Who doesn’t crave that kind of commitment? Especially if it comes in a wicked hot package, right? And what about vampires? They can offer what no wrinkle cream ever could: eternal youth and beauty. To never grow old is a fantasy to everyone on some level. Whether or not you’d want to live forever, most people would want to remain younger. Even if it’s only in appearance.

An automatic level of danger is required to even date someone like this! But would it be worth it to have your own loyal protector, your very own knight in shinning moonlight? More and more people seem to think so.

So, if you or someone you know is wondering if this genre is for you, maybe I can help. Paranormal romance is an adventure where a woman falls for someone “not typical.” Every relationship has challenges. What about sunlight or the full moon? Different things, different people, but the same desire to be loved.

If you’re feeling adventurous, why not give it a try?

You can find out more about Tracey at: www.traceyhkitts.com

Grab life by the fangs!

Tracey’s latest book is Frank and The Werewolf Tamer, available exclusively on Amazon Kindle.

Purchase link: http://www.amazon.com/Frank-Werewolf-Tamer-ebook/dp/B006PU2JBW/ref=ntt_at_ep_dpt_7

Candies for Valentine's DAY? The ones with the words printed on them!

2012-01-20T00:09:00.004-06:00

BE MINE is my Valentine for you! Feb. 3 from Decadent Publishing along with my SASSY 7 gal pals who brought you the TOYS-4-US series.

Why shouldn’t an eligible man like Jason Sherwood plan a Valentine’s Day merger with a woman whose elegant body melted at his touch last year on February fourteenth? A mysterious woman who disappeared like a wraith. A vibrant creature who came apart in his arms like only the right woman does for the right man.

But Mara Richardson left Jason for a good reason…and after a year of looking for her, he still doesn’t know why. But he has to learn. Has to get her naked, wild for him again. Give her those little sugary candies that say, Be Mine, and show her that, despite only hours with her last year, he needs her to be his. Forever.

A sharp knock at the door had her jumping. She glanced at her watch. Two o’clock. Time enough to listen, dicker and still catch her plane. Mr. Capitol Communications better have a swell counter-offer or we’re both dead meat.

She swung open the door. “Hello, Mister–“

Her throat closed. Her heart pounded. Her nipples beaded reminiscent of that night when that savage hungry mouth had shaped them and sucked them. Her pussy gushed, memories consumed her of how this man had used those firm lips to lick her clit and give her the best screaming orgasm of her entire life.

“Sherwood, Mara. Jason Sherwood,” said the incomparable creature outside her door. His blue eyes wore an appealing apologetic look. His mouth tried for a smile but couldn’t quite make it. He was nervous. He was apprehensive. He was so very damn good looking. And he was determined to come in. “May I?” He nodded toward the conference room. “I brought some things. Hungry? I am.”

She stepped backward. For a former press aide who ate journalists for breakfast and a media trainer who taught people how to tick off talking points like time bombs, she was for once in her lonely life utterly speechless.

And the only thing she cared to do was look at him. Absorb him into her skin. Treasure him.

His sea blue eyes. His sun-kissed hair. Wet from snow. His pink cheeks. Chapped from the icy wind. His comforting height. Five, maybe six inches taller than she. And stepping right up to her, drinking in her confusion and her delight at his sudden appearance, growing confident now. Grinning down at her.

“Hi, baby,” he whispered, one big fist sinking into her chignon and destroying it. “I missed you something fierce. Let me kiss you. Now that I’ve found you, I’m not letting you go until we know so much about each other, you’ll either hate me or never leave me again.”

A man writing straight contemporary erotic romance? For real?

2012-01-12T00:04:00.004-06:00

Yes!
Welcome Tim Smith!

Wading Through Quicksand

By Tim Smith

Here’s something you don’t run into on an author’s blogsite every day – a male author of straight contemporary erotic romance. Okay, I know what you’re probably thinking – “A man writing romance stories who gets the details right? It can’t be done!” Trust me, I get that a lot. I began published life as a writer of mystery thrillers set in The Florida Keys. Two of my three novels won awards and I had a nice following. While they all contained romance and sex, I never considered writing a full-fledged romance novel. Why should I, when I had what appeared to be a niche career?

That’s when I decided to wade into the quicksand known as “contemporary erotic romance.” A few years ago I wrote a romantic comedy, Anywhere the Heart Goes. My friends who eagerly anticipated another thriller were aghast and asked me “How could you do such a thing???” The answer is pretty simple. I was attending a book festival and while my books were selling well, I noticed other authors drawing bigger crowds. They were selling romance novels and after reading one of them, I thought it would be fun to write one of my own, but told primarily from the man’s perspective and with more humor. I also knew I could write something better than the one I’d read. This first one did well enough that I followed it with two more lighthearted erotic romances and a romantic mystery. I recently released a romantic intrigue story, Memories Die Last.

No matter what type of story I’m writing or where it takes place, I strive to make it as atmospheric as possible. I love it when a reader tells me they felt like they were in the scene with the characters. I use realistic dialogue, writing what I hear people say on a daily basis. I also take great pains to craft characters with human flaws and quirky personalities, to make them step off the page. I’m not a fan of cardboard characters and heroes who come off as perfect. The one difficulty I had to overcome when I switched genres was the way I wrote sex scenes. They were abundant in the first three books, but for this new market I had to turn up the heat and be more explicit. I’ll admit it was a little awkward at first, but I soon reached my comfort level and stopped blushing when I wrote something down and dirty. The nicest compliment I can receive is when someone tells me they can’t wait to read my next book. Man, it doesn’t get much better than that!

Here’s the blurb for my latest release, Memories Die Last:

He’s as cool as a Mojito on a Key West beach, he’s the kind of guy your mother wouldn’t let you play with, and he’s every bad guy’s worst nightmare. Former CIA operative Nick Seven finds his peaceful life in The Florida Keys turned inside out by the surprise appearance of an old nemesis he thought was buried alongside the painful memory of a personal tragedy. He reluctantly gets back into the spy game to settle an old score and is pleasantly surprised to find himself paired with beautiful Felicia Hagens, a former co-worker from Barbados. Together they uncover a complex maze of intrigue, espionage and high-level government corruption. The assignment gets more complicated when they realize they have unrequited feelings for each other. Can Nick finally hit the elusive target and reclaim his personal corner of paradise? Will Felicia decide to stay with the rugged former spy she’s always had a secret thing for?

Now that you’ve read the trailer, here’s the feature. This is a G-rated excerpt. A hotter one can be found at www.extasybooks.com. More information about all of my books can be found at my website, www.timsmithauthor.com.

Nick drove them to The Flats, a former waterfront shipping and warehouse area that had been converted into an upscale dining and entertainment complex on the Cuyahoga River. He and Felicia found seats on the outdoor deck at Shooter’s On The Water and ordered drinks. Nick took out a cigarette, tapped the butt end on his lighter a couple of times then lit up.

“You oughta quit those, you know,” Felicia said.

Nick chuckled and looked at her. “Still thinking about me, aren’t you?”

Felicia returned his gaze and absently brushed a strand of hair back from her face. “I never stopped.”

“Tell the truth, I never did, either.”

“So how come you don’t write to me all that time I’m back on Barbados?”

“Nothing to say, I guess.”

“Not even a card at Christmas. I thought about you lots the last few years, wondered how you were and what you were doin’.”

“Ya know, Barbados isn’t that far from The Keys. You could’ve hopped a plane and came to see for yourself if you were that interested.”

Felicia paused. “No guts.”

“You? No guts? The woman who almost single-handedly took on the PLO? I don’t believe it.”

“Maybe I was afraid you wouldn’t want to see me.”

Nick pondered her statement for a moment. He looked at Felicia and appreciated anew her natural bronzed beauty, including the deepest, most sensual brown eyes he’d ever gazed into. They were eyes he could lose himself in with no trouble, and often had when they were together before. He had always liked Felicia and at one point he had briefly toyed with the idea of asking her to run away with him, but the timing wasn’t right.

“Not a chance,” he finally answered, “and you’re right, I could’ve caught a plane myself. Maybe I was short on guts, too. Felicia, I never forgot the kindness you showed me after what happened. You really made it easier for me to get on with my life.”

Felicia glanced down in embarrassment and let out a soft laugh. “So what’s it like on Key Largo?”

Nick sat back in his chair and propped one leg on the other. “Gorgeous. Great temperatures year round, bright blue water, all the fresh seafood you can handle and the most beautiful sunsets in the world.”

“What you do for action down there?”

“I have a bar and restaurant on The Gulf.”

“You like it?”

“Yeah, I do.”

“Can’t be as excitin’ as this.”

Nick puffed his cigarette. “I had enough excitement in my former life, thank you very much.” He sipped his drink. “So much for me. What’ve you been doing on Barbados?”

Felicia paused. “Survivin’. It was kinda strange goin’ back there after everything I did here. Took some gettin’ used to.”

“I have to ask. Were you really working as a bouncer in a waterfront bar?”

Felicia chuckled and tossed him a wink. “It was one way for me to stay in shape. Those roughnecks like to let off some steam after a couple months at sea.”

“What did you get from it besides exercise?”

“I learned never to bend over in front of them.”

Nick laughed. “Yeah, I can see where that would cause a problem.” His laughter subsided. “Why did you leave? You could’ve stayed with the program and had your own team. Why bail?”

Felicia took a sip then glanced down. “Tough to explain. When you transferred to The Farm and became an instructor they gave Brodie your team but it wasn’t the same.”

“He wasn’t leadership material?”

“He was okay, but it was kinda dull, no spontaneity. Too much by-the-book crap. It was like without you there to call the shots he had to get someone’s permission to take a leak.”

Nick smirked. “That explains why they promoted him to Deputy Director.

So that’s why you left?”

“It stopped bein’ fun so I decided to go back home where my family was until somethin’ better came along.”

“And you never found it?”

She slowly shook her head while looking at him. “Not yet, but I’m still lookin’. What about you? Did you find what you were lookin’ for?”

Nick gazed into her eyes. “I’m working on it.”

Author bio:

Tim Smith is an award-winning author whose books range from romantic mystery/thrillers to contemporary erotic romance. He is also a freelance photographer. When he isn’t pursuing these passions he can often be found in The Florida Keys, doing research in between parasailing and seeking out the perfect Mojito.

YUMMY, new a quatre by Myla Jackson

2012-01-09T10:00:00.000-06:00

Welcome my buddy, Myla Jackson, with her new yum yum a quatre erotica romance! (I want all 3 Kiowas, Myla. For lunch, please.)

BOOTS AND CHAPS

by Myla Jackson

Ugly Stick Saloon, Book 1

She gave up stripping to go legit…until three Kiowa cowboys bring on the down-and-dirty.

Jackson Gray Wolf is turning thirty, and what does he have to show for it? A ranch. No wife, no kids, no dates. He’s had his eye on the pretty owner of the Ugly Stick Saloon, but their one accidental encounter was interrupted before he could get her out of her take-me-now red cowboy boots.

Audrey Anderson isn’t in the market for a man. Been there, done that, has the scars to prove it. She retired her pole-dancing boots after purchasing the Ugly Stick Saloon, and now manages a stable of strippers. When she winds up one stripper short for a private party, she’s forced to slip on a mask and into the role of the mysterious Kiki.

Jackson didn’t want the birthday bash his twin brothers are throwing him, but his vow to ignore the rented stripper goes awry when she shows him exactly how far she’s willing to go—for all three of them.

Audrey can’t forget the sizzling heat between her and one sexy Kiowa in particular. Jackson. Trouble is, she’s not sure if he wants the bold, brassy Kiki, or if he’s ready for the wounded woman underneath.

She only took one step before Jackson hooked her arm and pulled her back into the storeroom. He kicked shut the door, spun her to face him and then backed her against the wood panel.

Her heart pounding, her vocal cords locking in her throat, Audrey stared up into the midnight-black, smoldering eyes of the Kiowa Indian. Every one of the Gray Wolf brothers had the signature hair and eyes, blacker than the night, and broad shoulders that filled any room they entered. But only Jackson captured her attention and held it so tightly she could barely breathe. He was strong, powerful and reeking of male testosterone. She wanted him to command her, to force her to submit to his every desire.

Audrey fought to regain her breath, bad memories rising to the surface. Suddenly she felt the need to run before she did something she might regret, like fall for the guy. “I really should be getting back to work.”

He planted a hand against the door, effectively blocking any attempt on her part to escape. His brawny arm stretched beside her, the sun-kissed skin smelling of the outdoors and leather. “Do you work all the time?”

Audrey’s inner panic dissolved as her panties dampened, the stirrings of lust gripping her so strongly she couldn’t shake it. “I could ask you the same thing.” Was that really her voice, usually so strong and clear, now breathy and husky?

“I’m here, aren’t I?” He brushed a strand of her hair away from her face and tucked it behind her ear.

“Only as designated driver to your brothers.” She leaned her face into his hand. “They’re adults now. You didn’t have to come.”

“And miss the opportunity to see you?”

Her eyes narrowed. “Since when did you care if you saw me?”

He inched closer, his lips hovering over hers, his knee pressing between her thighs. “Since forever.”

“Liar.” Audrey flattened her hands against his chest with the intent to push him away. Instead, her fingers curled, dragging him nearer by the fabric of his chambray shirt.

With his lips so near, Audrey couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe. When he didn’t seal the kiss, she glanced up, her gaze meeting his.

“Has anyone ever told you that your eyes are as blue as a rain-washed summer sky?” His deep tone resonated against the cardboard boxes of liquor lining the storeroom walls.

Audrey laughed, her stomach fluttering, her knees turning to liquid. “No.”

“Well, someone should. Because they are very beautiful.” His mouth descended, crushing hers with the force of his kiss.

She gasped, her lips parting to allow him inside.

He swept past her teeth, delving deep to tangle and twist, thrusting in and out to the rhythm of lust. His fingers laced in her hair, tugging hard enough to make her scalp sting. The blasts of pain only made Audrey hotter.

Her thighs clenched around Jackson’s knee, her cunt rubbing along the rough denim of his jeans. She ached with the need to be naked, to feel his skin against hers.

Kindle

Nook

Samhain Publishing

About the Author

Twenty years of livin' and lovin' on a South Texas ranch raising horses, cattle, goats, ostriches and emus left an indelible impression on Myla Jackson, one she likes to instill in her red-hot stories. Myla pens wildly sexy, fun adventures of all genres including historical westerns, medieval tales, romantic suspense, contemporary romance and paranormal beasties of all shapes and sexy sizes. She lives in the tree-covered hills of Northwest Arkansas with her husband of 20+ years and her muses— the human-wanna-be canines—Chewy and Sweetpea.

To learn more about Myla Jackson and her stories visit her website at www.mylajackson.com.

Books visiting the Ugly Stick Saloon:

Sex Ed

Boots and Chaps

Dirty Tricks: One Up On You

Dirty Tricks: Two Can Play That Game

Dirty Tricks: Three's a Charm

Dirty Tricks: Four Play

Dirty Tricks: Five-Second Seduction

Dirty Tricks: Six Degrees of Desperation(coming soon)

Myla Jackson

.................Sinfully Sexy

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

That Voodoo You Do (Alluring Tales Night Moves) - Kindle, ARe, Nook, etc.

Five-Second Seduction(Dirty Tricks) - Kindle, ARe, Nook, etc.

Boots and Chaps - Samhain Publishing

Body Snatchers - Elloras Cave

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Website | Blog | Facebook | Twitter

2012: My Resolutions for Fun & $$$!

2011-12-30T00:00:00.053-06:00

Need an Italian lover?

For 2012, I am into FUN and $$$.
To ensure the laughs and my fat wallet, I promise myself to:
1. GO AFTER PIRATES more often. WEEKLY.
Hey, all these people are ripping me off to the tune of THOUSANDS of $$$. What if I came to their house and did that??? Besides, Congress--those folks who haven't worked all year but collected their $150,000 salaries--are debating Our Anti-Piracy Bill like it was an attack on business. SAY WHA? Yep. Google and their buddies are fighting this bill, saying it would "criminalize" their business. NEWS FLASH: Pirates have already criminalized it. Google needs to step back, THINK and get a new way to make a buck, not off my back!
2. ADVERTISE more.
Yeah. It costs. But people, time or money? I am only one people, have only a bit of time and some money (esp. if I kill these pirates, I'll have more)!
3. Love FACEBOOK and TWITTER more. This stuff really works to get the old name out there.
Color me happy.
4. Stop cruising the net. 'nuf said.
5. Invite all of you to come to my blog to post! Often! Any time!
6. Go to the gym 3x a week.
I need it.
My office chair is wunderbar, but it does not ensure my a$$ is any skinnier.
7. My last Res. This I am offering a saying to you for your consideration as one of your resolutions. This one, I used as a kid when things were tough. And they often were, especially at holiday time.
What is it?
One I wish some of the HOUSEWIVES of X-city, the Kardiasians (sp.?) and Snooki, and all her generation would use, cuz they give me HIVES with their narcissism!
Don't criticize and Don't complain.
Use facts only.
And the pix at the top?
Shameless Self-promo.
My very first EC release about a lovely widow and a smokin' hot Italian stud.
My Sweet.
Mia Dolce! Go here for author page for all my EC books: www.jasminejade.com/m-560-cerise-deland.aspx

UNWRAPPING SCROOGE! What a man! Anne Holly's newest!

2011-12-16T00:04:00.021-06:00

Bestselling author Kale McKinnon is a modern Scrooge – eccentric, misanthropic and reclusive, made bitter by the coldness of his wealthy family. But when optimistic Canadian graduate student Molly Gillis visits Oxford and invades his space, he realizes Christmas is about to change for him forever. But can he make her stay, and force himself to un-Scrooge enough to be the right man for her?

For more info, see my holiday website: http://annehollyholiday.webs.com/christmastales.htm

Anne Holly is a Canadian writer of romance and erotic-romance, as well as a mother and teacher. She is the author of the novel Strings Attached, which was described by The Romance Reviews as “a classic contemporary romance.” She has been published by Wild Horse Press, Decadent Publishing and Rebel Ink Press, and in 2012 by Pink Petal Books. Anne’s work is characterized by its unusual heroes, sweet/spicy balance, witty dialogue, responsible citizenship, and its positive, optimistic nature. She has found a particular niche in holiday romance. You may visit Anne at her blog or website, or find her on GoodReads, Facebook and Twitter (@anneholly2010). Sign up for her newsletter here. Email her at anneholly2010@gmail.com.

And today, Anne gives us a family recipe for the holidays:

A Family Favourite: Shortbread

Anne Holly

Part of the December holidays for me growing up in rural Nova Scotia was my mother’s delicious, coma-inducing shortbread biscuits (cookies, in other parlance).

Nova Scotia is a wonderful mixture of German, Loyalist, French, Native, Scots-Irish, English, etc, etc, cultures, which has evolved in a very distinct local cuisine, in which carrot pie sits beside lobster, grape nut ice cream and seaweed stew. In my family, we had significant British/Irish influences on the things we ate, especially at the holidays.

Shortbread is a pretty English thing, and always made an appearance at Christmas – we were not the richest folks, and I think the rich cookies cost too much in butter to make all year around.

In my books, foods always make an appearance, and in my Decadent Publishing novella, Unwrapping Scrooge, the heroine, Molly, a good Nova Scotian girl, eats shortbread during her Christmas in England, bringing back memories of home.

So, try this one out. Especially wonderful with a glass of cider or eggnog, or a nice cup of hot cocoa!

Easy Shortbread

1 cup soft butter (unsalted if you’re health conscious, though my mum used salted)

1/2 cup confectioners' sugar

1/4 cup cornstarch

1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour

Preheat oven to 190*C (375*F), while you furiously stir up that butter - or whip it with an egg beater. Stir in the sugar, cornstarch, and flour as you go, keeping it smooth and even. It should become like a fluffy, lumpless, paste. Spoon dollops of the dough on an ungreased cookie sheet, about two inches apart. Bake for 12 to 15 minutes. The cookies should stay white, with maybe some toasted colour at the edges, but they need to be somewhat hard. Cool on racks before storing. This recipe should make about twenty cookies, but this will depend on your dollop size.

Now, these are clearly not the best of diet foods, but you can adjust the nutrition and sinfulness by choosing your butter carefully. However, barring any major health issues, I say live a little and enjoy a full-fat, full-flavour cookie. It’s only once a year, and if you offer a dish of these up at a gathering it’s unlikely you’ll be able to steal more than one!

Thanks to my mum for the recipe.

Enjoy, and happy holidays!

- AH

YUM YUM YUM. What else do you need? TODAY! Cold Nights, Hot Bodies!

2011-12-14T00:04:00.027-06:00

All my life I’ve been the quiet bookworm, the office mouse. It hasn’t bothered me. Immersing myself in erotic novels has kept me wriggling on the edge of my seat at work and firmly entrenched in my own fantasy world at night.

Though one thing is bothering me—my damn virginity. If only I could find a sexy bedroom expert to introduce me to the delights of having a lover. Someone handsome and charming, who can rival the hunky alpha males in my books. I have a very vivid, very well-fed imagination—he’ll have to keep up.Then, one bitterly cold night, thanks to a devious, conniving so-called-friend, the perfect opportunity to rid myself of this pesky virginal problem comes along. Before I know it, the heroes in my novels have come alive in the person of Shane Galloway, who’s pleasuring me with every trick in the book and wheedling into my heart in the hottest possible of ways.
RUN, DO NOT WALK TO BUY THIS ONE: http://www.jasminejade.com/p-9705-cold-nights-hot-bodies.aspx
So Like you need a nibble?????? GEEZ. WHY????? sheesh.
Here it is anyway!

“I want you, Shane, I want you to take my virginity.”

“Ashley, are you sure?”

“More than sure.” Over his pants, I rubbed my palm up the length of his erection, marveling at its solidity and size. “Please don’t leave, not now, because that would be the worst thing to have ever happened in my life. That would be something I could never undo.” And it was certainly something that didn’t happen in my books.

Suddenly his lips hit down on mine, strong and assertive. “If it’s really what you want then I’m not going anywhere.” He breathed into my mouth. “Except to bed…with you, right now.”

“Yes, yes, it’s what I want.” My stomach flipped with excitement. I’d persuaded him to stay. I’d grabbed my opportunity―quite literally.

Letting go of his erection, I looped my hands around his neck, pressing the entire length of my body into his until his cock was squeezed tight between us. My heart thumped and my skin was alive with new, interesting, wild sensations.

“I told you, it’s been a while for me,” he said, pulling back to look at my face. “Your vampish little virgin thing may have me reaching the finish line early if you’re not careful.”

“I’m sure we can make more than one finish line.”

He chuckled and I sensed the last shred of tension and uncertainty leave him. “Yeah, you’re right.” He smoothed his hands to the back of my bra. “We have all night and we’re well and truly snowed in so what’s the rush?” He undid the clasp with a finely tuned movement and the lacy cups fell from my breasts.

“No rush,” I murmured even though impatience was bubbling like a cauldron deep within me.

His gaze drifted downward. “You have great tits,” he said. “Pert and pretty.” He stroked his thumbs over my nipples. They twisted into tight buds, as if straining for more of his attention. “Has anyone even done this to you before?” he asked.

“No,” I said on a shaky breath, watching his every move the way a hawk watches a mouse. “Never.”

“So I’m guessing no one has done this either.” He bent and kissed over the rise of my right breast, his soft lips inquisitive as he traced the mound.

“No,” I managed.

Shifting his shoulders, he pulled my erect nipple deep into his hot mouth.

I buried my hands in his thick mop of hair. “God, no,” I gasped. “Not that either.”

He switched to the other breast and used his hands to feed my hypersensitive flesh gently into his mouth. I closed my eyes and tipped my head to the ceiling, it felt divine, warm and wet, tingly and strong. His tongue was injecting white-hot lust into my veins.

“Ah, you’re sweet all over,” he said, straightening and pulling me close again. My damp breasts pressed against his scratchy chest. “I’m going to make this right for you, Ashley. I’m honored you’ve chosen me. You won’t regret it.”

“I know.” I touched my fingertips to his stubbled jawline. “I know, Shane. I trust you.”

With one quick movement he scooped me into his arms. I clasped my hands around his neck as his strength surrounded me. He began to walk toward the bedroom.

“We’re not doing it on the sofa?” I asked.

“No, we’ll do the sofa later, your first time should definitely be in bed,” he said, stepping through the doorway. His eyes widened. “And wow, what a bed.”

I glanced at the four-poster. Huge and luxurious, it did look the perfect place to lose my virginity.

Shane carried me over and set me down so I was sitting on the edge with my feet on the floor. I watched in silence as he moved the darkly wrapped chocolate from the pillow and placed it on the bedside table.

Straightening, he looked down at me, his gaze so hot it was like a lick of flame across my bare flesh. He frowned and took a leather wallet from his back pocket, flipping it open and pulling out a green-foil-wrapped condom. “I’ve only got one,” he said, “but when we need more there’s a machine in the gents’ downstairs.”

I nodded, pleased he was thinking about contraception and safety. I couldn’t, anticipation of what was going to happen in the next few minutes had taken over my brain. I was buzzing all over. It was as if I was in my own novel, I was the heroine and he the hero. And my goodness, what a perfectly exquisite hero I’d been blessed with.

Shane toed off his shoes and peeled off his socks. Reached for the button on his pants and yanked the zip free. He pushed them down, stepping out and kicking the knot of black material to one side.

I sat motionless, just staring at the big bulge tenting his navy cotton boxers.

“You okay?” he asked, stilling in front of me.

Clearing my throat, I looked up his long, lean body shrouded in shadows from the one low lamp in the room. His abdominal muscles were faintly defined, his pectoral muscles square and his nipples small, dark discs. “Yes, I’m fine.”

He stepped closer. His groin came level to my face and the heady scent of his skin radiated toward me.

Desperate to touch him, I traced the line of fine silky hair that led from his navel to the waistband of his boxers.

He tensed.

I glanced up at his face. “Can I?” I asked.

The corner of one side of his mouth twitched. “Be my guest.”

AND JUST CUZ you and I both need this, here he is LARGER, baby, LARGER!

Costume designer, my heroine of SANTA, CUTIE (#2 on bestseller list at ARe!)

2011-12-11T13:50:00.002-06:00

The most fun I have ever had researching a book was for SANTA, CUTIE's heroine, Susanna Corrigan. Yes. I had to travel. Ouuie. I had to party, dine, gamble, stay in fab.u.lous suite and ask questions of people.
What does Susanna do?
She is a costume designer for a Shakespearean Festival. For this, she must be artful in rendering vibrant clothing which can be discarded quickly for changes, yet be accurate to time, place AND conflict and character for The Bard's plays.
I came across her in...of all places...Las Vegas where I knew she initially served as the warder for mimes in a famous resort hotel in Sin City. Perhaps you recognize these places?

Here you see a few of those mimes I think she dressed:

TODAY, SANTA, CUTIE debuts! Need a nibble of my newest cherry?

2011-12-06T00:05:00.002-06:00

Of course you do!

Susanna Corrigan believes in Santa Claus. Always did. So a Christmas-time flight to Alaska for a one night stand with a man chosen for her is a perfect gift. Fun and great sex with Mr. Right Now fits her bill for no strings, no commitments.

Then hunky Gil Santana laughs with her, buys her dinner and take her dancing–and Susanna asks herself if she can resist the temptation to make Gil more than a temporary affair.
Your nibble: (Copyright 2011, Cerise DeLand. All rights reserved.)

Gil Santana promised himself one more lap in the pool before he treated himself to lunch and for a chaser, a snifter of Armagnac. He extended his arm in the pool, ready to push off once more, but his eyes snagged on movement at the far doors. His gaze glued to the perfect vision who walked through them and his mouth fell open.

Through the ladies’ spa entrance came a female who took his breath away. The way she walked. Like a queen. The way she pushed back her shoulder-length hair into a ponytail and rubbed her hands together in glee like a kid eager to jump in the creek on a hot summer day. She was, undoubtedly, the most beautiful woman he’d seen here at the resort or in fact, anywhere.

Even in Hollywood.

Hey, Santana, that is the plan, man. You’re here to find a woman who isn’t like the aggressive types in Los Angeles. So what if this one strikes you as….

Luscious.

He blinked. She strolled to a lounge chair and inched out of her flip-flops.

Five-five or so. Red hair. Lush, wavy hair the color of merlot. Never-from-a-bottle, intoxicating red hair. Oval face. Dark eyes. Damn! What color?

She looked around. Didn’t spot him, thank goodness. Then she smiled to herself. Padded over to the shallow end, stuck her toes in the water, and grinned.

He swallowed hard and didn’t make a move. He wanted to enjoy her. She shook back her hair and pulled at the bottom of her suit. Snapped it beneath the crease of her gorgeous, firm ass and took the steps down slowly into the water. She was quite incredibly lovely.

Quite incredibly built.

Madre Mia. With breasts. Half moons. Nipples pebbled beneath the white spandex of her conservative, one-piece suit. Hips like God should give all women. And thighs. Trim. Knees. Cute. Long, long, long legs.

Down boy. His cock did not obey. And Gil had to agree with the big guy. This woman was worth the salute.

Stop it, Santana. You act like a drooling teenager.

Yeah, but, wow, did he hope she was his for this 1Night Stand thing.

How could she be?

Yeah, true.

She looks exactly like the type you don’t want. She looks like a wannabe movie star who’ll do anything to get a part. Including wearing a sign, Casting Couches R Us.

Visit my website for more goodies: http://www.cerisedeland.com

SANTA, CUTIE, I want a MAN in my stocking!

2011-12-05T00:11:00.001-06:00

For a gal like Susanna Corrigan who always believed in Santa Claus, refusing to keep his gift of a perfect man would be rude? And foolish, right?

SANTA, HONEY, I want a MAN down my chimney for Christmas!

2011-12-04T00:01:00.025-06:00

Remember that sultry Eartha Kitt song? SANTA, BABY, is just what Susanna Corrigan craves for the Holidays! This is one grrrreat fun-filled holiday song and here are a few stanzas:

Santa baby, just slip a sable under the tree, for me

Been an awful good girl

Santa baby, so hurry down the chimney tonight

Santa baby, a '54 convertible too, light blue

I'll wait up for you dear Santa baby, so hurry down the chimney tonight

Think of all the fun I've missed

Think of all the fellas that I haven't kissed

Next year I could be just as good

If you'd check off my Christmas list

Boo doo bee doo!"

For a gal like Susanna Corrigan who always believed in Santa Claus, refusing to keep his gift of a perfect man would be rude? And foolish, right?

1Night Stand Holiday Anthology has all the sub-genres to Make Your Day!

2011-12-03T00:02:00.019-06:00

Lovely, eh? I read all these Sunday and oh, my, what a great time! (Helped me recover from all that turkey prep!)

Straight contemporaries
Werewolf
Sci fi space traveler and shapeshifter.

Something for every reader and oh, my, Big Somethings for romance readers. All erotic. All divine stories.
Run, do not walk!
This is the print verison cover.
Go now to Decadent Publishing!
www.decadentpublishing.com

What's Santa got in your stocking?

2011-12-02T00:05:00.021-06:00

Hope it is this DYNAMITE anthology, Madame Eve's Holiday Anthology from Decadent Publishing!
Mine is the lead story in this collection that include my buddy, DESIREE HOLT, STACEY KENNEDY, CLARISSA YIP, REBECCA ROYCE, AND LIIA ANNE WHIT!
In mine, SANTA, CUTIE, Susanna Corrigan flies to Alaska for Christmas wanting only a 1Night Stand with a man chosen for her.
What she gets in her stocking...(and not just in her stocking!) is Gil Santana.
Swoon.
A man really really meant for her. In more ways than one!

Got a man who takes A LONG TIME COMIN'?

2011-12-01T00:01:00.000-06:00

LUCKY YOU!
Here's mine:

Welcome Jane Rochester & her SOUL MATE, her new 1 Night Stand story!

2011-11-27T00:03:00.001-06:00

First off, thank you for letting me crash your blog today, Cerise! I’m thrilled you let me take over your space for awhile.

For those of you who don’t know me, my name is Jane Rochester. I’m a new erotic romance author, and I’ve just had my first story published with Decadent Publishing’s 1 Night Stand Series. I’m pretty excited to be able to share my stories with others, and I hope to be able to announce some more exciting news later.

But I figured while I was here, I’d talk briefly about paranormal romance in general. Why we like it. What keeps us reading about vampires, even when we think the “trend” has about fizzled out. I think vampires are getting a bad rep, and they don’t necessarily deserve it. I think everyone started to get tired of the vampires once they began to sparkle. Even so, who doesn’t wish for tall, dark, and handsome to walk through the door. And if he’s got fangs and a little bit of mystery and danger attached… woo! I’ll take him if you won’t!

There are tons of paranormal creatures out there that are slowly making their way into our stories and bookshelves. And I love them for it. Faeires? YES. Lost gods? OH YEAH! But at the end of the day, I still sometimes want to turn to a good vampire novel. I could wax poetic about the reasons we love them so much. The very sensual nature of a creature that has to suck your neck to feed. But I think every reader has their own opinion. Mine? I think they’re a taste of the forbidden, and everyone wants a little piece of that.

What about yours? Tell us a few. Why do you love vampires? Hate them? Wish for some other specific type of creature?

And since I’m here, and I love vampires, I will put the blurb for my own submission to the wealth of vampire literature:

Soul Mate

After her friend buys her a date from Madame Evangeline’s 1Night Stand service, Nora isn’t sure she can go through with it. Especially when she sees her date walk in. He’s way out of her league in more ways than just looks.
Angus MacInnes knows his time as Enforcer of his vampire clan is slowly driving him mad. When his brother sent him on a date, he assumed it would be a bust from the beginning. He didn’t expect to find the one woman he’s been hoping would appear for the last few centuries.
But can a vampire Enforcer smooth his rough edges enough to convince Nora that they’re Soul Mates?
Buy Link: http://www.decadentpublishing.com/product_info.php?products_id=375&osCsid=hivk6ohi7luvairc2n60d5a6q3

Nov. 30: your last day to get TOYS for 99 cents--and enter to win a FIRE!

2011-11-26T13:50:00.001-06:00

Then enter the contest to win the KINDLE FIRE! WHERE? At the blog:

Lingerie! Oo, la la!

2011-11-13T11:52:00.000-06:00

YES, you know I am crazy for this stuff!
Whetting your appetite for more, more, more, I am over at Delilah Devlin's blog today, showing you yum yum goodies. http://www.delilahdevlin.com/blog/
Why?
Well, my newest heroine in a new series I write, KNIGHTS IN BLACK LEATHER, is about to open a lingerie shop in a tiny town in Texas.
What's unusal about this town?
The men are good and plenty~and the women wear little more than a smile.

Welcome the heroine of GREY's LADY by Natasha Blackthorne!

2011-11-11T00:08:00.026-06:00

Grey’s Lady is the story of a wealthy New York merchant price, Grey Sexton, who falls for a poor but beautiful seductress, Beth McConnell. Yet, for all their social and economical differences, at their most basic level, Beth and Grey are very similar. This story explores how these similarities threaten to tear them apart before love can overcome the fear of being vulnerable.

Both Beth and Grey suffered isolation and emotional neglect in childhood. Grey grew up as a privileged only son, heir to Sexton Shipping, one of the fledging nation’s largest mercantile fleets. Grey’s father was a stern businessman who did not understand his daydreaming son and held him at a distance. A child in this position might take solace in a closer relationship with his mother. However, Grey’s mother was chronically ill and unable to bear his childish energy. She kept to her chambers and died while he was still quite young.

I will let Beth tell her story in her own words.

Why should men always have the power of choice when it comes to sexual and romantic relationships? Is it right that we women have no choice but to sit and wait for a man decide to honor us with his declarations–usually uttered in the form of a demand? And all we as women may do is say “yes” or “no” and hope we have made a wise choice. The man still has the power to break his promises and it will be our good name and heart that bears the damage.

My mother fell into an adulterous affaire with an unknown man and as a result I was created. Her husband put her out of their house. I would have been borne in the almshouse if not for the kindness of her employer. After my mother’s death, I would have gone to the foundling home without my kindly benefactress. My unknown father also had his power of choice, the choice to abandon me. How fair is it that men have all the power of choice?

Oh, you ask what about the gentlemen? Ha! The gentlemen. They are the very worst.

A gentleman once declared passionate love for me. He said this so ardently, his beautiful brown eyes shone with sincerity. I was young. I was naïve. I believed him. I trusted him and gave my heart wholly into his keeping. And as went my heart, eventually so went my virtue.

Do you what happened next? Surely, I don’t have to tell you. You know how these maudlin stories go. He married someone else. A lady. Someone of his own class. His took his power of choice. He became a respectable family man and I was left being a soiled dove. I had a good cry over it. I may have drank a little too much at his wedding celebration. What a pitiful little fool I was. But I did not wallow in my self-pity for long. So men have needs and desires? Well, I also have needs. I also have desires. Why should men have all the power of choice? Why should they have all the enjoyment in life?

I take my own power of choice now. I chose whom, when and for how long and I select only the most handsome, wealthy, and powerful of gentlemen.

Yes, I know you are asking do I not fear discovery? This is a worry and I take it seriously. Truly I do. I live with my half-brother and his family now. He is very protective and very touchy about matters of honor. Our mother was not faithful to his father. Now he takes such matters so seriously. Too seriously. If he had his way, I would stay home all the time, working in the backroom of his cobbler shop with one eye on the children. But honestly, though I love my nieces and my half-siblings, life there is dreary. It’s all work, work and more work. Everything is shabby, everything seems to stay gritty and grimy no matter how hard I work to keep things clean. There are always more shoes to repair. I swear my eyes shall go crossed trying to sew by candlelight night after night. I never get enough sleep or time to myself. If I couldn’t go out and seek my adventures, I should go mad. I have my mother’s wild blood in me and my desires can run so high I fear they shall consume me.

I could marry a nice man and he would carry me away from all of this. I would have my own cozy home and hearth. My benefactress has introduced me to a nice young minister and to a nice young but struggling legal clerk and a nice young medical student who trembled all over and went pale when I said good morning to him. I have no interest in nice young men. It’s the wealthy, powerful, arrogant gentlemen who fascinate me. I know they will never desire me for a wife but they shall burn for me. They shall remember me.

How do I protect myself from discovery? I limit my liaisons to one single meeting. I never meet with my gentlemen again, no matter how desperately they implore me. And they do implore me. Though I am poor, the child of adultery by an unknown man and powerless in my society, I have something gentlemen desire. I have beauty, and thanks to my mother’s wild blood, I understand their hot lusts better than the women of their class. I do gain a measure of satisfaction out of leaving them burning for more. Burning for me. No gentleman shall ever forget the one afternoon he spent with me.

Today is a special day for me. Mr. Asahel de Grijs, otherwise known as Grey to his friends, is coming to my favorite bookseller to give a lecture on privateering. He is a New York man, the owner of Sexton Shipping which has a fleet of over forty sea going vessels. He is rumored to be the wealthiest gentleman in America. I know this is not true. I know exactly who is the wealthiest man in America. But Mr. Sexton is among the top three wealthiest men in our nation. He is also politically connected and quite powerful. He would be the brightest feather in my cap. I think I shall wear my shabbiest dress because it is always more thrilling when these gentlemen cannot resist the tattered, poor little bastard girl. They are slaves to their own greed for beauty.

I don’t really deride gentlemen for their focus on beauty. I appreciate a handsome face and well-made masculine form. Well, if Mr. Sexton’s physicality matches his other attributes, then I shall be entertaining a gentleman today. In private. In his carriage. But only for today. Afterwards, he shall burn for me. He will never forget me.

“Are you hungry?” he asked, his tone front-parlour-polite.

“No.” She couldn’t possibly eat. She’d been pent up with desire like a caged cat for two weeks. Now, so close to being beneath him again, she could barely keep herself from swooning from the excitement.

“You know, for a moment there, I thought you were about to bolt.”

“No, never.”

“That’s a relief.” He laughed without smiling and pressed something into her hand—a key. He whispered his room number. “Go up. I’ll follow shortly.”

“I haven’t much time.”

“Very shortly.” The edgy promise in his voice sent a bolt of desire twisting through her belly. Her knees melted to jelly and she wobbled.

“Careful.” His strong hands gripped her shoulders, steadying her, his face showing none of the emotion pounding through her own body. How could he remain so unaffected?

Impulse seized her and she caught hold of his lapels. “Kiss me.”

He leaned closer. Heavens, anyone could come along and catch them. Oh the risk… But her breath quickened and her nipples stiffened, straining against her stays. She closed her eyes, tilted her head up. Waited.

And waited.

“How many men since me?” He laid his large hand at the base of her throat and a thrill went chasing through her. “Look me in the eye.”

Her lids fluttered open and his gaze pierced into her with such intensity she gasped. “It has only been two weeks.”

“Answer me, Beth.”

Another thrill trembled through her. Fear or anticipation? She couldn’t say. “None.”

Still holding her throat, he studied her for several long moments. She set her jaw, refusing to waver under his scrutiny.

He bent and his mouth pressed hers, hard and hasty. Passion spiralled, took her soaring to the stars. Lassitude weakened her and wetness seeped between her legs. He lifted his head. She tightened her hands on his lapels, trying to pull him back. He resisted, his eyes trained on her like a stag with a doe.

Kiss me. Just kiss me, you arrogant jackanapes.

“Now, go.” He released her, set her veil back in place and left her there.

She gaped at his departing back, watching how he moved, so tall and proud. Over-proud. Did he have any idea what a rarefied class he found himself in? She didn’t go around asking just any man to kiss her. She had very high standards and she shared herself with only a select few. She was bestowing quite an honour on him and yet he reacted as if she were the one who ought to be grateful. And to add insult to injury, he hadn’t even kissed her. Not truly.
THANKS, NATASHA!
Now, dear reader, do run to buy your copy of GREY's LADY: http://www.amazon.com/Greys-Lady-Carte-Blanche-ebook/dp/B00630ZCP4/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1320423899&sr=8-1

Boot Scootin' Boogie Blog tour by Natalie Acres! A Hot Ride!

2011-11-07T00:01:00.034-06:00

Thank you for hosting a blog stop during The First Annual Natalie Acres Boot Scootin’ Boogie Blog Tour!

I’m excited to share information about the Cowboy Boots series in celebration of my new release, Cowboy Boots and Unsettled Debts. The third book in this romantic suspense saga, Cowboy Boots and Unsettled Debts is by far the ‘hottest’ of the series.

A Siren-Bookstrand LoveXtreme title, Cowboy Boots and Unsettled Debts introduces readers to Abby Rose and her team of seven fellow operatives. With a deadly mission in front of them, Abby’s team members are forced to face regrets as they come to terms with the fact they’ve fallen in love with one of their own. Now, with Abby taking an inside position on a very dangerous mission, Abby’s men work around the clock to make sure she leaves this assignment alive!

Hold on tight! This series moves faster than the hit TV show ‘24’!

Releasing November 7^th,Cowboy Boots and Unsettled Debts, Book 3 in the Cowboy Boots Series

Blurb:

Seduction turns deadly when Abby Rose, an agent with the Underground Unit, decides to put a provocative spin on revenge. Her plan to sleep with a cartel leader backfires when fellow operatives refuse Abby the opportunity to face her enemy alone.

Abby’s fellow agents begin the fight of their lives. After discovering Abby will use her body to lure in the man who killed her father, and their command leader, seven highly trained operatives cope with high tensions as each man comes to terms with feelings never previously acknowledged.

This team isn’t fighting for another cause or plotting the best way to take out their mark. The stakes are much higher. These men will take up arms and meet their greatest challenge as they work together to protect the woman they admire and love.

Excerpt:

Rated R for content and language

Ace snarled. “I will spank her when this is over.”
“Sure you will,” Casey said. “About like Porter plans to put a dildo in her pussy and paddle her twat.”
“I never said that,” Porter said, keeping a keen eye on Abby.
“Talk about that kiss and I’ll deck you,” Ace said.
“Damn, those lips were sweet,” Porter teased.
Ace faced him. “I wasn’t kidding.”
Porter took a deep breath. Sometimes Ace’s attitude was a real obstacle. He was a smart-ass SOB when he wanted to be. Standing about six foot four, Ace was nothing more than layers of muscle. The only soft spot the man possessed was the one Porter held in high regard, too—Abby Rose.
“I say we take him out right here,” Casey said, always ready to jump the gun.
Casey looked like a kid, and very often Porter reminded himself Casey wasn’t a child, hard to do since the guy looked like a surfer boy of about eighteen. Only a year separated them. Porter was twenty-nine. Casey followed only a year behind.
Still, Casey was a trained killer just like the lot of them. Under normal daily circumstances, he was such a klutz and a clown, but when he aimed his gun and pulled the trigger, no one had a more accurate shot.
Fowler folded his hands atop the table. “I’m ready for this to be over.”
“What’s wrong, Fowler,” Ace taunted him. “Afraid Juraz is gonna tap that?”
“He won’t be a-tappin’ that. I’ll promise ya.”
Porter and Ace exchanged a knowing stare. Porter shook his head in warning. It wasn’t worth the argument. They all recognized the possible scenarios. The best they could hope for was the most favorable. If Abby went to bed with Juraz, they wanted her to kill him before she was forced to fuck him.
Unfortunately, they needed information from Juraz before she pulled the trigger. And he probably wouldn’t open his mouth unless she first opened those long, shapely legs.
Copyright © 2011
http://www.bookstrand.com/cowboy-boots-and-unsettled-debts

Welcome, Mahalia Levey who knows THE PRICE OF DEFIANCE!

2011-11-06T00:04:00.005-05:00

Hi Cerise,
Thanks for having me on your blog. For those of your readers who don't know me, I'm multipublished and write a mixture of genres that include: Interracial romance, Contemporary romance, Military Romance, African American romance, BDSM, Shapeshifting Demon horror/paranormal dark erotic romance, Shapeshifting Tigers, Gargoyles and an assortment of other animals, I'm dabbling in Sci Fi and have one Cosmic short romance. My book lengths vary from 8 thousand words to forty-seven thousand words. I like variety and I go where the characters in my head lead me! I'd love to give a back listed copy away of one of my previous books to one winner today!
my links are www.mahalialevey.com www.mahalia2010.wordpress.com and www.twitter.com/hales3000 . You can find me on Facebook by searching Mahalia Levey. I have a fan page and an author page!

The Price of Defiance Available from Decadent Publishing.
America Patterson loves living on the edge. Living a double life, she car models by day and engages in illegal street racing by night, knowing she's one of the best. Underneath her flawless facade lies a young woman filled with turmoil. When her new found hobby lands her in hot water, she finds she may be in over her head.
Alejandro Escovedo is summoned home after his Mixed Martial Arts fight to find his best friends sister in jail, he knows he must intervene. Their explosive past gives him all rights where she’s concerned. He’s determined to end her dare-devil ways by finding the trigger to her self-destructive behavior.

Excerpt: Copyright 2011, Mahalia Levey. All rights reserved.

Antiseptic…sterile…death… The smells assailed her as she woke up. Amy raised her hand to feel her head and felt the tight pinch of handcuffs on her right hand. “Where am I?” She focused her blurry eyes until her vision cleared and saw a police officer sitting next to her.
“In the hospital for observation,” the uniformed officer answered.
“Why am I handcuffed?” she asked. Confusion clouded her judgment.
“You’ve been under doctor care for twenty-four hours. The EMT’s were able to rouse you while en route here. I read you your rights while transporting you in the ambulance. Do you remember why you were arrested?”
“No.” She paused to gather her thoughts. “My head hurts.”
“My name is Officer Blake. Do you know your name?” Officer Blake took out his pen and pad to take notes.
“America Patterson,” she answered.
“That’s not what the drivers’ license in your purse says. We’ll print and book you later,,” the officer stated and pulled out his radio.
“I’m going to jail?”
“Normally, people who vandalize private property, drive with reckless abandon, race illegally, and possess a fake identification card go to jail.”
America cringed. “Where’s my car?”
“Don’t you want to know if you harmed anyone?” he asked.
“I know I didn’t. I drove into the warehouse because I knew it was abandoned.” His rude tone annoyed her. She put her free hand to her head. “It hurts.”
“What’s left of your car is impounded for evidence. Lady—whatever your real name is—is there anyone you can call?”
“No…yes,” she said.
“Which is it, no or yes? You’ll need to be bailed out.”
“Where are my clothes?”
“What clothes? You had to be cut out of your car with the jaws of life. Your shredded clothing and broken heels are bagged for evidence, along with your purse.” He reached over and unlocked the cuff to free her hand then gave her his personal cell. “You’re damn lucky to be alive and relatively unharmed. Make the call. We’re leaving as soon as the doc clears you.”Amy heard the lecture in his voice. She took a deep breath and gulped back the fear of being escorted to a jail cell. She dialed her brother, Saint Vincent’s number.
“Hello,” a worried voice answered.
“Hi.” Amy sniffled.
“America, where are you?”
“Saint, I’m in big trouble.” Amy gripped the cell tightly to her ear. “I’m at Truman Memorial Hospital, about to be taken to jail.” She started to sob when reality dawned on her.
“Thank God, you’re alive. I’ve been going out of my mind since the link to the wreck was sent to my cell phone. Sit tight. We’ve been fielding police and the media, trying to protect your professional name. Sis, Alejandro demanded to be the one to handle the situation.”
“I’m sorry for scaring you.” Her brother and his team of misfits were all she had while growing up. Being named after their country of conception and proved just how zany her family was. Saint Vincent got his name chopped in half to Saint. “Is this going to hurt your business?” She winced at the thought of seeing Alejandro again after so long.
“No. Alejandro will make sure you have a smooth transaction. I’m forwarding him your info now. Sit still and relax. Can’t have the baby of the family locked up and forgotten.”
Her voice dropped an octave. “Can’t you come? I haven’t seen him since—”
“Miss, we’re ready to transport you to the police department,” Officer Blake interrupted.
“I gotta go.” Amy snapped the phone shut and handed it back to the officer. He was kind enough to leave, allowing her to change into the scrubs they’d sent for. She rapped and opened the door after toeing into the slip-on canvas shoes. “I’m ready.” Head dropped low, she allowed them to escort her to the jailhouse that was a ten-minute ride away.
Being booked took longer than she’d expected, and it mortified her. A nifty machine imprinted her fingerprints electronically after they took her mug shot. The issue with her identification became clear once she had a chance to speak and separate her professional identity from her personal one. When they finished processing her fingerprints and mug shot, she followed them through general population and looked at all the criminals on the way to her holding cell. The door buzzed and opened, and she was ushered in. She cast a glance at the officer, who shook his head, locked the door, and turned his back.
I’m not a criminal.

Toy Stories! Out everywhere for 99 cents!

2011-11-02T10:43:00.000-05:00

One of 7 great toy stories!

You want, you need to have all 7 of these stories in your hot little hands!
Yes, they are all out now on Kindle, Smashwords and Allromanceebooks.com! I will get all the links and post here for you.
And to make your day sweeter still, if you answer each question in the contest, you will be entered to win a KINDLE FIRE from the Toys-4-US Seven Sassy Gals!
Hurry, hurry and have a wonderful set of great stories. I read them each. I sighed. I laughed. I loved them all!
For latest news of all, go to:
http://toy4ustales.blogspot.com Our Blog!

Tomorrow, tomorrow, 99 cents tomorrow for each of these hot little numbers!

2011-10-31T00:02:00.002-05:00

BAD LADY BARONTON~a nibble of Meta Mathews' newest Regency!

2011-10-27T10:00:00.003-05:00

I am so tickled to bring you a nibble of Meta's newest Regency. She has such a talent for these. Remember her LADY CHAMBERLY's CHOICES? Loved it.
Thanks so much, Cerise, for letting me visit your blog today and talk about my latest erotic Regency, Bad Lady Baronton. This was a fun book to write, partly because I grew so fond of my characters and partly because I enjoy writing about the Regency period.

Here’s a brief description of the storyline:

Thoughts of a marriage of convenience with the new Earl of Baronton horrify Lady Madelina, so she plans to discourage him by pretending to be a woman of ill repute. Her plan backfires when she discovers he’s not the monster she’d been led to believe, but instead a lover who can pleasure her in ways she’d never imagined.

Having inherited a title he didn’t want, along with the expectation he’ll marry a woman he’s never met, Garett decides to investigate her before he introduces himself. Then he meets a beautiful woman who blatantly offers herself, and their sexual compatibility astounds him. Too late, he discovers the woman he wants as his mistress was supposed to have been his bride. Getting himself out of this situation will take all the skills he learned during the Peninsula War, and more.

Buy it at http://www.jasminejade.com/p-9528-bad-lady-baronton.aspx

Care for a sample?

“I must discover some way to keep from marrying that monster,” Lady Madelina Anderson declared, staring at each of her four sisters, all of whom were grouped around her in the small parlor of Baron Place. “I simply must.”

Lady Nora, the next to oldest, patted her elder sister on the knee. “Never you fear, Maddy dear. We’ll think of something.”

“But what will we do if you don’t marry him?” Queenie cried. At fifteen, she was the youngest and the most emotional of the sisters. “He’ll toss us out of the house and we’ll perish. Or worse, we’ll be taken in by different families and be separated. I’d rather die.”

“Nonsense,” eighteen-year-old Ophelia declared. “You know Aunt Louisa would never allow that to happen. She’ll see to it that we have a home.”

Ever practical Parmelia looked up from her embroidery. “I agree that Aunt Louisa would see to it that we have a roof over our heads, but how? Her dower house is too small to accommodate all of us.”

“I knew it.” Queenie’s voice wobbled and tears filled her huge aqua eyes. “We’ll be separated. I’d rather die.”

“Yes, yes, Queenie,” Maddy muttered. “We know you’d rather die, but don’t do so just yet. I promise I’ll keep us together. Give me a few minutes to think.”

The sisters obediently fell silent, and Maddy turned her head to gaze out the window into the undulating green leaves of the large oak just outside. As eldest, she bore responsibility for the futures of her sisters. It was not their fault that Papa had frittered away his small inheritance on bad investments, and really, each girl was pretty enough not to require a huge dowry to attract a husband.

Nora, at nineteen and a half, was the true beauty of the family with golden blonde hair and regular features. Tall and slender, she carried herself well. In addition, she was quite accomplished at the pianoforte and with her watercolors.

Ophelia was certainly the most striking with her red hair and green eyes, while little Queenie with her silvery blonde hair held promise of growing into a diamond of the first water.

Even dear Parmelia, who was clearly the plainest with her brown hair and hazel eyes, was far from being homely.

Still, no matter how much beauty her sisters might possess, Maddy was aware that they needed much more. And they deserved more than marriage to a country squire. They were, after all, daughters of an earl, and each should have been assured of a Season in London where she would have been exposed to the most eligible men in the ton. Perhaps, if she agreed to marry that monster from the other branch of the family…

But no, she simply couldn’t sacrifice herself in that way. Her earliest recollections included tales of the debauchery and cruelty inherent in the descendents of her great-great grandfather’s brother. In addition to being cursed with physical abnormalities, that branch of the family was rumored to revel in the most unseemly behavior. In fact, she had it on good authority that the current earl, her fourth cousin, had sat out the war in a remote estate belonging to the Marquess of Chamberly. Several men, so the story went, belonged to a club that was devoted to nothing but pleasures of the flesh, and they’d thus whiled away the years of war while braver men fought and died.

No. She could not marry such a man.

But how could she in good conscience refuse him if the futures of her sisters were in peril?

What are others saying about Bad Lady Baronton?

Mandy, a reviewer for Night Owl Reviews, gave Bad Lady Baronton five stars and wrote:

This is my first Meta Mathews romance and I think it was written wonderfully, with just the right mix of detail and heartfelt sentiment. The emotion and tender feelings felt realistic and easy to relate to. It came to be about the love, not the sex, although Ms. Mathews did give us the explicit sex that I think you'll enjoy. You'll get warm-and-fuzzy feelings when you read Bad Lady Baronton and you'll surely hate to see it end, as I did. It was so good I wanted it to go on and on. I look forward to reading much more from Ms. Mathews!

Toy Store, anyone? Toy Story, anyone? yes, please

2011-10-16T00:01:00.001-05:00

See all 7 and get hot and bothered!

2011-10-11T00:07:00.004-05:00

7 Sassy Gals with 7 Sassy Tails! ah, no! TALES!

2011-10-10T00:04:00.010-05:00

What happens when seven sassy women get together for a little wine, a few laughs and some inspiration?

YOU get 7 Sassy Tales!

Each of them coming to you on the same day, at the same time for the same Sassy price of 99 cents!

And if you read each one, you get to answer the questions and be entered in a drawing to win a Kindle FIRE!

Need the rules and regs?

Of course, you do. Go here: http://toys4ustales.blogspot.com

More than that, you need to see the covers, sigh over the men and the stories and then tell your friends about TOYS-4-US series, coming November 1 to digital stores!

So who are the Sassy Seven?

Allie Standifer, http://www.allie-standifer.com/

Brenna Zinn, http://www.brennazinn.com/

ME! Cerise DeLand, http://cerisedeland.com/

Desiree Holt, http://www.desireeholt.com/

Nicole Austin, http://www.nicoleaustin.net/

Regina Carlysle, http://reginacarlysle.com/

Samantha Cayto, http://www.samanthacayto.com/

And you must go here to see all the FABULOUS COVERS: http://toys4usbooks.wordpress.com

Come back for nibbles of each of the wonderful stories about 7 women who don't take no for an answer from the men who have, until lately, eluded them.

My buddy, Myla Jackson debuts RIVER BOUND!

2011-09-27T00:05:00.024-05:00

River Bound

Bound and Tied, Book 3

Blurb:

What do a madame and a bounty hunter have in common? They want the same man.

When Rosalyn Smythe, aka Madame Rosie, steps aboard the Marie-Dearie, she hopes it’s the end of a year-long search for her runaway fiancé, Dalton Black. Her cabin holds a surprise: James McKendrick. Notorious bounty hunter, old lover…a man only too happy to help her clear the air—and her heart—of her murdering, thieving bastard fiancé once and for all.

In disguise as a riverboat gambler, Dalton is determined to find who framed him for killing two U.S. Army soldiers and who stole the gold they were carrying. He wants his life back—and his woman, who just happens to be on board and on the arm of his former best friend.

Convincing James he’s innocent is easier than winning back Rosalyn’s heart. Especially since Rosalyn seems to be enjoying their competition for her affections a little too much. There’s only one place to work out his dilemma. In bed.

As the sheets become unbearably hot, threads of evidence leading to the real killer are unraveling, leading toward one fateful card game—and one man who’s hell-bent on making sure Dalton has nothing left to lose.

Samhain Publishing
Amazon
Barnes and Nobles Nook

Check out more of Myla's Bound and Tied Series by visiting her website at

http://www.mylajackson.com

Chapter One

Summer 1861

Rosalyn Smythe stood at the dock in West Helena, Arkansas, trunks stacked two-deep beside her. She wore her best gown and hat as she waited to board the Marie-Dearie riverboat bound for Memphis, just a few hours upstream.

“Ma’am.” A riverboat porter in his crisp uniform stepped up beside her. “If you’d like to go to your room, I’ll bring your trunks to you.”

“Thank you.” Rosalyn walked the gangplank, the gentle sway of the riverboat bringing back so many memories she had to remind herself to breathe. The last time she’d seen Dalton Black had been on the Marie-Dearie nearly a year ago when he dove into the Mississippi and swam away to avoid the marshal and his deputies.

Rosalyn remembered that night as though it was yesterday. That was the same night Dalton had proposed. Two shocks in one fateful night.

As she stepped onto the deck, Rosalyn fingered the engagement ring she kept on a chain around her neck. She told herself it was a reminder not to let herself fall for a card sharp, cheat and thief ever again. Deep down, she knew it was a lie. In the darkest corner of her mind her body trembled at the prospect of being with such a bad, dangerous man. But then, she knew Dalton hadn’t been the thief the marshal claimed he was. That he hadn’t stolen the U.S. Army payroll and run. Her heart skipped a beat. That he hadn’t used her as a front to get to the soldiers in charge of transferring the money.

The gambler had blinded her to a lot of things. His way with words had made her think he cared. The wicked things he had done with his hands made her blood flow like liquid fire throughout her body, spurring desires so combustible she had burst into flaming passion every time she was alone with him. She hadn’t been a naive miss, prone to believing every sweet-talking man, yet she’d fallen for him completely.

Aboard the Marie-Dearie, memories flooded over her, reminding her of the temptation that was Dalton Black, from his glossy black hair and rakish good looks, to his body of a god, strong and beautiful.

Rosalyn hurried to her room, the sunshine suddenly too bright, too revealing. Damn it.

As the owner of a very successful bordello, she’d seen it all, done it all and knew the odds of gambling with a gambler. Yet she’d fallen for Dalton Black harder than a teenage girl in love for the first time. And not because he was all that nice to her, but because he had the air of a rake, someone who would use her deliciously and walk away. Only he hadn’t walked away, he swam away.

She’d been so in love that she’d turned over her business to a manager, left her home and followed the man onto the river to live the life of a gypsy. Hell, she’d given up everything, and what did she have to show for it? When the marshal had come for Dalton, the lawman had tried to implicate Rosalyn as the gambler’s accomplice. It took some fancy talking and a slick escape plan to elude the law and escape to the wilds of Colorado gold rush country.

But she knew she couldn’t run forever. Rosalyn wanted closure on this particularly dark chapter of her life. And if it meant finding Dalton Black, so be it. She trembled, her core heating, the warmth spreading throughout her body at the thought of seeing the gambler again.

She stepped through the door of her stateroom, tugging the gloves from her fingers, anxious to touch herself, to relieve the ache building deep inside. She didn’t need a man, she didn’t need Dalton. Hell, she knew how to pleasure herself.

The door swung closed behind her, closing with a click.

“Hello, Roz.”

Rosalyn spun, her heart hammering against her rib cage, hope burgeoning. “Sweet Jesus!”

“No, not Jesus.” The man chuckled. “Has it been that long that you’ve forgotten me?”

Rosalyn’s pulse slowed only slightly as she got a good look at the man dressed in brown trousers, matching jacket, crisp white shirt and a dark cowboy hat slung low over his eyes. The mustache had been trimmed and a few lines had appeared next to his eyes, but there was no mistaking James McKendrick the bounty hunter.

“Oh, it’s you, James.” She turned her back on him and tossed her hat and gloves onto the quilt-covered bed, her heartbeat still galloping. Ah, dear, sweet James. She should have married James when he’d asked three years ago. But besides great sex, he didn’t bring quite the spark Dalton did. “What brings you to the river?”

“Same thing that brought you.”

Rosalyn faced the man, her brows rising. “A little gambling? I thought you’d given up gambling.”

“I have. I didn’t come to gamble and neither did you. I got word a man fitting Dalton Black’s description boarded the Marie-Dearie down in New Orleans. I suspect you heard the same.” His mouth tightened. “Like you, I came for Dalton.”

The look was new to her and gave her a jolt. He appeared almost dangerous when his face drew into a frown. With her body already on fire at the thought of seeing Dalton, Rosalyn pressed a hand to her belly, her pu**y pulsing. “You think that’s why I came?”

“I don’t think it, I know it.”

“Well, you’re wrong.” Rosalyn turned her back on him. She’d never been able to lie to James. The three of them, James, Rosalyn and Dalton, had been so close, sharing everything from their dinner wine to their beds.

The sound of boots crossing the wooden floor made Rosalyn tense. Would he touch her like he had so many times before? Would he kiss her throat and run his hands over her body, pushing aside the clothing as he went? Her breathing quickened.

James’s cowboy hat flew across the room, landing on the washstand. His hands slipped around her waist, and he pulled her against his hard body.

Rosalyn sighed and leaned against him. How long had it been since she’d been able to lean on anyone? For six months, she’d lived on a mountain with two couples, sharing their lives and their beds, but not their hearts. All the while her own heart had been back east, aching for a man who may or may not have ever loved her. And another who’d shown her in every way that he did.

James.

He turned her in his arms and bent to take her lips in a gentle, soul-searching kiss.

Rosalyn twined her fingers around his neck, pulling him closer, needing his embrace, needing the strength he represented when she faced Dalton. James was everything a woman should want. Only it hadn’t been enough for this woman.

The kiss deepened, James’s tongue pushing past her teeth to claim hers, sliding along its length. One hand slipped down to her derriere, cupping her through the folds of her traveling gown and dragging her against him.

The ridge behind the buttons on his trousers pressed into her belly. The deep ache surged in her core. She couldn’t forget the nights she’d spent lying with James and Dalton on either side of her, snuggled safely between the two men she’d come to love. Men who accepted her in spite of her ties to the Rose Palace bordello.

When her lips left his, Rosalyn leaned her forehead against James’s chest. “What happened to us, James?”

“You made a choice.”

“I did, didn’t I? For this past year, I’ve asked myself over and over if I made the wrong choice.”

“Did you come up with an answer?”

She sighed. “No.”

“No, you didn’t make the wrong choice, or no answer?”

“No answer. I came up with no answers to all the questions I asked myself.” Rosalyn rested her hands against James’s chest and stared up into his gray-green eyes. “You are perfect in every way. Why didn’t I choose you?”

“Because you loved Dalton more.”

She stood in James’s embrace, unable to look away. “Right now I want to hold you, to be in your arms.” Her fingers went to the buttons on his shirt. “To feel your skin against mine. Make me feel alive again.”

He caught her fingers, and he held them away from his half-unbuttoned shirt. “Are you sure that’s what you want? I’m not anxious to get hurt again.”

“I’m sorry I hurt you. Let me make it up to you. Let me make love to you.”

“And when Dalton shows up?”

“I’ll cross that river when I get to it.”

“No deal.”

Rosalyn looked into James’s eyes. “Don’t you want to make love to me? For old time’s sake?”

His grip tightened until the pain made her wince.
He let go and stepped away. “More than you’ll ever know.”

***

GET IT! YOU WILL LOVE IT!

Baby, I'll Find You! Find Jennifer Skully now!

2011-09-14T00:01:00.007-05:00

Thanks so much for inviting me to blog, Cerise! A little background on myself, as Jasmine Haynes, I write erotic romance for Berkley Heat and LooseID, and am the author of the paranormal mystery Max Starr Series. I also write funny romantic suspense as Jennifer Skully. My latest is Baby, I’ll Find You.

I have to say that my favorite characters to write are elderly people. The older generation just has so much knowledge, and they’re pretty darn hysterical. In my Max Starr Series, I introduce readers to my hero Witt’s mother, Ladybird Long. She is so much like my mother that my mom would kill me if she knew! But that’s why the series is laugh out loud (in addition to being poignant, sexy, and mysterious), because of my mom and Ladybird Long. In Baby, I’ll Find You, my latest by Jennifer Skully, Isadora Winters is my favorite secondary character. She was born in my mind as, thanks to a PBS fundraising weekend, I watched Tom Jones sing “Delilah” on the Ed Sullivan Show. Here’s a You Tube Link for it. I’m sure you can see why Isadora went wild for Tom. He made me quite sweaty, too! The Scrabble group Isadora belongs to came to me as I was playing Scrabble with my mother and my aunt, two prim and proper English lades. They changed all the rules on me! And they looked words up in the dictionary before they played them! That’s just wrong! Of course, they didn’t use any of the words Isadora and her friends used (which are naughty, I’ll warn you!), but by the end of that Scrabble game, we were all laughing so hard, we had tears streaming down our cheeks. So I hope you will read the Scrabble scene and think of my mom and Auntie Dorothy.

Here’s a brief blurb for the book.

Jami Baylor has lost her job, her fiancé, her hopes, and her dreams all on the same day. But she believes in fate and destiny, and after finding Colton Amory’s CD in a thrift store grab bag, Jami knows it’s serendipity that she’s heard his song now. “Baby I’ll Find You” speaks to her heart, right when she needs it most. So, off she goes to the wilds of Yosemite to discover why Colton Amory hasn’t written another song in seven years.

The only problem? The man who wrote such beautiful music turns out to be a self-pitying jerk. Or so it seems, until Jami digs deeper.

Seven years ago, Cole Amory had a flourishing musical career and a little girl who was his pride and joy. In one split second, he lost it all. He hasn’t written a lyric or played a note since. Buried in a small Yosemite town, he’s now a fry cook at a fast-food joint. And he doesn’t need a woman with stars in her eyes opening all his old wounds and guilt.

Can two people with nothing left to lose find it all?

To read an excerpt, check out my blog for Aug 15! The e-book is available on Kindle Nook Smashwords, the Apple ibookstore, and the POD version will be coming. You can earn a free book, too! Learn how at the end of the e-book!

Thanks so much for having me, Cerise! Readers can find me at www.jasminehaynes.com, Facebook, and Twitter. I’m also doing a free erotic read, a chapter every week, on my blog, www.jasminehaynes.blogspot.com. I invite everyone to come by!

Our drought, our fears

2011-09-12T16:01:00.016-05:00

Here in south Texas our drought continues and takes a disastrous toll. On cattle ranchers, farmers. On businesses.
But also on the animals.
Here are Mama and Baby in our back yard, which normally this time of year does have tall grasses. Crisp, brown but tall. Now? Not so much.
And there is, trust me, not a drop to drink out there for the creatures of the earth. Soon, we wonder if we ourselves will stand in water lines. (FYI, we have had no rain, nada, zip, zilch since...ready?...APRIL.)
But I digress.
We worry about our furry friends.
And do we dare put out water for them to drink?
No.
Why?
Well, the situation is so desperate here that if we did put out water in any container, not only would we have every coyote, bobcat, deer and armadillo within a hundred miles, but it would create a competition in our back yard. Of a disastrous and bloody kind.
So.
Enjoy the picture.
Worry about us down in gasping, boiling, dry as a bone Texas.

How do I love thee, oh, many sub-genres?

2011-09-09T00:05:00.031-05:00

Regency, medieval, contemporary Texas! Loving all these periods, I also write them! The challenge to change my voice has never been one!
While I attribute that to my undergrad and grad studies and my extensive world travels, I also attribute my ability to shift to my childhood when reading was an inexpensive way to pass my summertime. I was an only child, you see, and so I found great comfort in my local library! To my mother's dismay, I loved reading her nursing books. And to my father's confusion, I liked reading his plumber's journals!
Say what?
Yes. And to this day, I understand what might be wrong with heating systems, cooling ones and regular water pipes. (Here in parched Texas, we have problems with the land so dry that the underground pipes shift, bend and crack. The water wells break down. The air in the system groans and moans. Okay, enuf, you say!
But now you know that Cerise is a good plumber. None of that fine knowledge is in any of my books, but now that I mention it....

The Bunny who came to survey our garden

2011-09-06T00:06:00.001-05:00

When our beloved doggie passed away recently, the morning of that sad event we saw this bunny come sit next to our garden. For hours, he sat there, legs straight out in back of him, looking into our kitchen window. Intently.
As if he came to say goodbye to our pal.
Then we did not see him at all until 4 days later...when we brought our long-time pal home from the crematorium.
Then, as you see here, he came to peer into our herb garden.
And later, he sat right down, legs spread out in back of him, gazing into our kitchen window as if to say I came to mourn with you.
Could he have come just to join us in our wake?
We felt he did.
The aura of his presence was so striking. So palpable.
Have we seen him lately?
Only sporadically.
Never does he sit as the day our dog died or the day we brought him home to be us forever.
We go to the windows often and look out into what is becoming, given our extreme drought here in Texas, a barren wasteland. We wonder where our fellow mourner is, how he fares, if he will return.
We hope he does. We hope he can.
We wish he would return and sit and dream awhile.

Vitamin P! Got any?

2011-08-27T12:47:00.000-05:00

Vitamin P.
Ever heard of it?
Me, neither. Until the other day in a magazine, the writer espoused a regular dosage of Pleasure. Got any for yourself?
Connected to digital devices of every kind, we are definitely hyperactive.
Example? Last night on a newscast covering Irene, all four people on a boardwalk in New Jersey were walking into the camera view with cell phones to their ears.
Really folks. Sure, they were calling home to tell their families, "I'm on TV. Turn in!"
But really! My question is, why the heck were these people out on the BOARDWALK, rain pouring down, ONE WITH A BABY STROLLER, calling home when they should have been in their cars and, as their Governor so improperly told them, "to get the hell off the beach"? I want to know why they were on their phones (and why the one with the baby stroller wasn't well outta there yesterday)?
More than that, I wonder why the heck they were connected via cell phone when their brains are not connected to their common sense?
Habit?
Addiction?
I vote for both.
I have Rules about how I use my electronic devices.
I don't do email when I travel.
I turn my cell phone off when I'm not using it or not expecting any calls.
I don't text. Ever.
If you want me, you have to email me or call me during normal human being type hours. I do the same for my friends.
I turn off my computer every night at 5, 6 at the latest.
I cook dinner. A really fine one.
I may read at night or I may watch movies.
The news I get comes from the NYT on line and anything else on line until I fold clothes after dinner and watch CNN and MSNBC or maybe (my newest fave) HGTV. (Wanna buy a house in Paris? London? Belize?)
My Blood Pressure is fine.
I work out 2-3x a week.
And my newest addiction is Dance Jam class on Saturdays.
WHAT's your addiction? What are your Rules for electronic devices?
What can you change to give yourself a dose of Vitamin P???

Joy Ride~You need one! Desiree Holt's got one!

2011-08-22T00:01:00.031-05:00

Welcome my lovely pal and talented author, Desiree Holt, who celebrates her newest release, JOY RIDE with a great giveaway! Drum roll!
Here she is:
I look at the places my life has taken me and hope that I was smart enough to enjoy them all while I was there. I had great experiences working as a reporter for weekly newspapers, covering everything from local political meetings, to the trial of a man who shot his wife because she wrecked his car, I once did a tour of thirty stores in one day interviewing Santa Claus. It’s a good thing I didn’t wreck my car! I’ve done things both sane and insane, like promoting the opening of a shopping center by sending a band up in a hot air balloon and stopping traffic for four miles in every directions.

But I think the real richness of my life came from my years managing rock bands.

Rock musicians are a breed unto themselves. The music is their life, and one of their first goals is to be able to move their practice sessions from someone’s garage to a real practice studio. Sometimes they’re lucky and they get to practice far enough out of civilization that only the cows and horses can comment. Other times the poor manager gets to field phone calls from neighbors and—if you’re not lucky, the police—about that “awful sounding stuff”. But wherever they practice, it’s all about the music.

The sound.

Their sound.

And the music is great. It’s good. It’s terrific. The success of a good song can give you the same high as really good sex. The success of your client can take you to orgasmic levels. And despite all the pitfalls, there’s nothing like being at the top, even if the bottom is always just a misstep away.

Last year I went to Johnny Depp’s Viper Room to see a performance by an excellent rock band, Run Devil Run. The moment I stepped into the room it was like stepping into my past, surrounded by memories, excitement and hot music. The person who drew my attention, however, was the bass player. Can you say sex on a stick? He was sooo into his music, and so “hawt” on stage you could feel the energy and electricity sizzling from him. I knew I had to write a story where the hero was based on him.

Check out this shot of him.

And so Joy Ride was born.

The traditional story of the good girl and the bad boy, set against the world of rock music. I hope you’ll come along for the ride with Emma and Marc.

And to celebrate, Decadent Publishing will give away a copy of Joy Ride to one lucky person drawn from those who comment today.

Available at: Decadent Publishing, Amazon, Sony, All Romance eBooks.

Also, celebrating the opening of my Café Press store where you can purchase all kinds of items with the logo of Lightnin’, the band in Joy Ride.

Just go to www.cafepress.com/desireeholt

Blurb:

Emma, the good girl poster child, is running from a life she suddenly sees as grey and suffocating. A life where she’s successfully buried all her hopes and secret dreams. Until the night she wanders into Aftershock and is immediately drawn to Marc, the hot bass player with the band. Marc doesn’t much care for the groupies who hang around the band. He wants a woman he can create a life with that’s a counterpoint to the craziness of the rock music business. When he sees Emma for the first time something inside him cracks wide open. Just one sizzling glance between them and he’s sure he’s found the woman he wants. But as the relationship grows, there’s a huge stumbling block: Emma won’t tell him her name. The sex is fabulous but he wants more. So does Emma but her fear of everything falling apart builds a barrier she can’t seem to cross. Marc is taking her on the joy ride of her life, but will her own insecurities destroy everything?

Excerpt:

Clutching the cold beer bottle in her hand, she wedged her way between gyrating bodies, hypnotized by the music until she reached the front of the crowd…and stopped at the edge of the stage, mesmerized. The bass guitarist stood with one foot balanced on the monitor in front of him, his body leaning into the sound. His head was thrown back, dark hair flying around his face as he pounded out the rhythm of the song they were playing. He was wild, uninhibited, totally immersed in his music. He moved with an incredible grace to the accented beat, hips thrusting as his clever fingers plucked the strings and slid on the neck of the guitar.

For one incredible moment, Emma had the feeling he was playing only for her and she realized she really had been struck by “Lightnin’.” Permanently electrified by it.

A surge of heat raced through her, and it wasn’t the kind that emanated from the tightly packed sweaty bodies. Instead, an electric excitement gripped her, sending a charge of unfamiliar sexual thrill to every nerve. Her breasts tingled and between her thighs, she felt a throbbing as deep as the sound of the bass. At first she stood stiffly, clutching her drink. People jostled and shoved her as they kept time to the beat. She took two quick swallows of the beer, grimacing at the bitter taste. But as the alcohol eased her tension, she found herself catching the rhythm of the music and trying to mimic the movements of the bass player, totally caught up in the seductive lure of the song. For one crazy moment, she was gripped by an uncontrollable urge to jump up on the stage, and bump and grind with him. Her! Emma, the good girl!

Clumsily juggling the beer bottle, she slipped the thin strap of her purse over her head so it lay crosswise between her breasts. Her focus still on the bass player, she swayed to the beat, hips moving, rocking. When the song ended, the bass guitarist threw back his head on a final note and then looked out into the crowd, peering beyond the glare of the stage lights.

His eyes seemed to find hers as if pulled by a magnet, and a fist slammed through her.

Ohmigod!

Historicals, at the movies or in print? What's the purpose?

2011-08-19T00:02:00.001-05:00

As a professionally trained historian (with grad degree in the Old Stuff), I love to write historical fiction and read it.

A few nights ago, a professor of American history gave a big slam on prime time TV to the new movie, THE HELP. Her critique was, IMHO, the one of the "More Knowledgeable Academician" telling the lowly world how inaccurate, improper and downright disgraceful the film was to have portrayed that time and place and characters with joy, humor or compassion. Her conclusion was that the film is a gross glossing over of the truth.

Now, first, I must tell you, I read this book months ago. Loved it for its humor, compassion and finely drawn characters. Most of all, I loved it for its portrayal of the times and the milieu. I lived through that time and I remember it well. And while I lived in a fully integrated city and went to public school in one, I also went to college with women (and men) from the Deep South. I know what my friends thought and how they lived. I listened to them as we watched riots and hosings, the aftermath of the murder of Medgar Evers and Dr. King. I visited the South with my friends, met their parents and siblings. And while I am not a professional historian of slavery in America, I can say all of the following with certitude:

1. No book, non-fiction or fiction, can portray the total truth of a period or a people.

2. One book, non-fiction or fiction, can explore only one angle, hopefully, well.

3. One author, especially a fiction author, does not aspire to write the definitive picture of a person, place or period. (If she does, she'll never finish that book.)

4. The author's job is to pick one premise, one theme and one or two morals of the story. If she's doing her job well, she's going to use the best of her talents to accomplish that limited goal.

5. This author chose to portray a group of white women and a group of black women whose intertwining relationships were representative of a culture and a period.

I think she accomplished her goal well.

If she didn't accomplish this TV historian's goal well, she didn't have to.

And clearly, since THE HELP continues to strike a chord in hundreds of thousands of people who have read and continue to read it--and smile and laugh and shake their heads and feel the pain of those characters--the author did her job.

That is the only thing she was supposed to do.

The only job any author of fiction has or should.

Pesky little issues of self-publishing: Q & A

2011-08-17T00:00:00.007-05:00

Want to learn more about my journey into self-publishing?
Today, I have a blog up at http://goddessesofstorytelling.blogspot.com talking about Questions you should ask yourself about this venture!

To see how well I did, you may buy the book here on AMAZON:
Lady Starling's Stockings
It is also now available on B&N Nook, Apple platforms and many others!
All are available for 99 cents.
Enjoy!
Ciao, bella!

Joy Ride~You need one! Desiree Holt's got one!

2011-08-12T10:20:00.000-05:00

OUT TODAY!
Another long lovely trip into romantic fantasy with Desiree Holt!
The set up?
As her thirtieth birthday approaches Emma Blake takes a bold step to shake up her very proper life – she goes to a rock club for the first time in her life and is instantly drawn to Marc, Malone, the electrifying bass player in the band. Throwing caution to the winds she goes home with him, something the “proper” Emma would never have done. Stunned by the erotic night they spend together, Emma also feels an emotional connection forming, and she’s frightened by the intensity of everything. So frightened she refuses to tell Marc her name. But not so frightened she doesn’t go back again. And again. And again. At night she loses herself in his arms. By day she’s fighting not only the confusion in her mind but the fallout from her former lover and from her family, who can’t understand what’s happening to her. As the band’s career is about to take a huge leap forward, an event causes Emma to run from Marc and from the love growing between them. Can she get past her hangups and reach for the joy ride of her life?
WHERE TO BUY: www.decadentpublishing.com
ENJOY!

Delectable! LADY CHAMBERLY'S CHOICES! 5 STARs

2011-08-05T00:14:00.032-05:00

Lady Chamberly's Choices
Love Regencies? Love sexy romantic ones?
I know you do. You'll love this one, too!
LADY CHAMBERLY'S CHOICES by Meta Mathews is a treat. What is the plot?

After the Marquess of Chamberly unknowingly participates in the sexual humiliation of Lady Eliza Warren, he feels honor bound to propose. But she wants nothing to do with him—or any other man for that matter. Her forced introduction to acts of a sexual nature convinces her that she can never willingly give a man access to her body. Still, she can’t convince her body that it doesn’t still desire the marquess’ touch.

Determined to right the wrong he’s done to Lady Eliza, Chamberly agrees to marriage on her terms—in name only. He assures her that if anything physical ever happens between them, it will be by her choice. Fortunately, she tends to want him. The challenge is to keep her safe until she chooses to give in to her desires.

Eliza was to recall later that she’d been smiling that afternoon when the new footman interrupted her letter writing. She’d almost finished a missive to her older sister, Martha, who was married to Baron Preston and lived in Sussex. Martha always enjoyed stories involving the antics of their youngest sister, seven-year-old Abigail—who called herself Abby-gal because she thought that was her name.

So, Eliza had written, when Abby remembered she had imprisoned the kitten in Mama’s sewing basket, she ran back to the sitting room to release Boots and discovered the feline had entangled herself in several colors of thread, and in the process destroyed the order of Mama’s basket. Were it not for poor Abby’s condition, I believe Mama would have paddled her on the spot.

“Excuse me, my lady.”

Eliza jumped, not having heard the footman enter the drawing room. What was his name again? Mitchell? Marshall? Whatever it was, he moved too quietly for her taste. He stood practically at her elbow, and she hadn’t even heard him enter the room.

She suppressed a sigh, placed the quill back in its stand, and turned in her chair to face him. “Yes?”

“You have a message, my lady.” He grasped a folded sheet of paper in his hand but made no effort to hold it out to her. Instead, he merely stared at her. Eliza narrowed her eyes. His expression bordered on a sneer, but that made no sense. Footmen didn’t sneer, especially footmen who had been in the family’s employ for only two weeks. They were generally eager to please so they would not lose their position.

But this fellow continued to stare, and he certainly appeared to sneer. Eliza searched her memory and finally recalled his name.

“Thank you, Mayhew.” She nodded toward the paper he held. “May I have my message, please?”

He leaned forward to hand her the letter, then pulled back quickly as though to avoid her touch.

Irritated, Eliza turned her back on him and unfolded the paper. The writing was bold and black.

We have Abigail. If you want your feeble-minded little sister returned to you in one piece, you will follow the instructions in this letter carefully. Otherwise, your sister will disappear forever.

First, you will make an excuse to forego any activities that might have been planned for this evening and retire early.

At ten o’clock, you will make your way to the back door leading out into the garden. There you will be met by a man who goes by the name of Nate. Nate will escort you to a house where you will be the dinner guest of a man and whichever of his followers he chooses to invite.

You are to obey anything and everything Nate or one of your dinner partners tells you to do. If you follow instructions successfully, you will be returned to your home unharmed, and when you arrive home, you will find that your sister is safe in her bed.

Should you fail to obey or successfully follow instructions, your evening will be prolonged and your sister will be turned loose in one of the worst of London’s slums. Considering her limited mental capacities, I doubt she would live a long life, and certainly it would not be a happy one.

Her future is in your hands.

Delicious Danger: Any book by Desiree Holt and certainly this one!

2011-08-03T00:04:00.014-05:00

YEP! She did it again! Another sizzler by Desiree Holt! Today at EC is Delicious Danger!
The scoop on what's Delicious?
Kelly was shocked when her Caucasian Ovcharka Xena bonded with Rick Latrobe. The dogs are known for linking with only their owners. She’s even more shocked at the intense sexual heat that sizzles between her and Rick. When she tumbles into bed with him at the very first opportunity, experiencing a night of erotic bliss in his arms, she knows they have something special.
But Xena is very much aware when an attempt is made on Rick’s life, and the dog drives Kelly crazy with signals of danger as a shipment of arms is stolen in Iraq. Rick is nearly killed and Kelly and Xena are ferried to the secret clinic he’s taken to. As Rick heals and they race to find the mastermind behind the plot, the sex between them heats to the boiling point.
The link? Buy it here: http://www.jasminejade.com/p-9393-delicious-danger.aspx

BROCK's HELLION: a blistering beautiful read!

2011-07-27T00:04:00.016-05:00

In print, BROCK's HELLION appeared a few days ago at EC!
Lemme just say, WOW.

Brock is cool, calm and in control. Except when it comes to the feisty hellion who pushes all his buttons for the sheer fun of watching his patience snap. Far worse than the intense desire to choke her is the alarming, all-consuming compulsion to tie Tink to his bed and fuck her into next week.

Tink is no wimpy damsel waiting for a big strong man to rescue her or take over her life. Oh, hell no. She does her own thing, her own way, when she damn well feels like it. The last thing she wants or needs is some overbearing man bossing her around. Though she’d like to torture him with pleasure.

One night of explosive passion pushes Brock’s restraint past the limit. And hidden behind the cold-hearted bitch, he discovers a woman who longs to surrender to a man she can trust.

Come hell or high water, he’s going to be that man.

This book contains a smokin’-hot scene involving three men and one lucky woman.

The link: http://www.jasminejade.com/p-9468-brocks-hellion.aspx

Naughty Nature: Got One? Get One!

2011-07-22T00:03:00.001-05:00

My buddy, Allie Standifer has a new one out today in the 1-800-DOM-HELP series and lemme just say, my eyeballs are on fire!
Here's the setup:

Aria’s always had a secret need to give up her normally tightly held control, but she’d never dared to act on it. Until one night a mysterious card with 1-800-DOM-help appears in a very personal place. For the first time in her life Aria’s taking a chance on fate and the promise of a stranger to discover her every veiled desire.

ER doctor Mac Hudson has always known who he is and what he wants. Now he’s looking for a sub to explore all the erotic cravings and fantasies he wants to share. One hidden glimpse of Aria and Mac’s ready to claim the petite sub in every way he can.

A single night of passion is all she expected, but with her handsome Dom she got so much extra. Now Mac’s asking for more and Aria doesn’t know if her Naughty Nature is up to handling a dominate alpha male for more than a single encounter.
Here's the Link: http://www.jasminejade.com/p-9461-naughty-nature.aspx
Get your own Naughty Nature today!
I personally really want the SKIRT...The Man, too, but the Skirt to get The Man.

PART 3: MY SELF-PUB LIFE or How I learned to love new aspects of publishing

2011-07-20T17:20:00.000-05:00

Sorry for the delay on posting Part 3. I got totally off my feed when Amazon Kindle put up Lady Starling's Stockings within 12 hours of my Post for Review! Yes. I got hysterically happy.

Trust me. You will too after you have put hours and hours into this!

Onward with my further adventures!

Yesterday, after discovering that the book was up and for sale (and had gone through their review process so seamlessly), I was relieved but also trying to catch up with myself!

What did I have to do?

1. Notify and thank my friends, my freelance editor and my graphic designer/formatter who had done so much to make this happen.

2. Send the cover, blurb and excerpts to my website designer.

3. Get on Facebook and tell the world.

4. Try to post it on NovelRank, through which I track my books on Amazon. Alas, this did not occur quickly. Glitch in system perhaps? I was able to add it to my list today.

5. Realizing I still needed to add an excerpt to the Kindle page, I have spent (no lie) the last few hours attempting to do this. Result? It seems a sample is available if one asks for this by clicking right on the page. Oh, duh.

6. Now I must also go in and find ways to list it in various Kindle promo vehicles. Not certain what all of those are yet, but I will return and list them for you!

7. Have I tried to put this up on Smashwords for Nook, etc., and ARe yet? No, but I will soon.

8. Meanwhile, I am all too aware of the fact that I must send this out for reviews. Because this is self-pubbed, only I can do that. I have a few ideas in mind for reviewers and of course, I will purchase advertising for LADY S., as I do for each of my books. Perhaps I will buy more than I usually do, just to become a pervasive commodity!

9. One interesting aspect of publishing on Kindle I learned was to not only put the book into the proper categories, but today, I tagged them appropriately too.

What are categories? Think divisions of the library: Fiction, General, Romance, Erotica, etc.

What are tags? Think sub-genres or descriptives: Regency, Historicals, Romance, Erotic Romance, etc.

All in a days work, eh?

10. One thing I heartily suggest you do before you publish (and this is for already published authors who have books up on Kindle) is to become an Amazon Affiliate so that you can earn money from Amazon for the sales of your books from your website, etc.

Part 4 of this series will soon come after I post the formats through Smashwords (into various vendors like Nook, Kobo, etc.) and into AllRomanceEbooks.com. I will be intrigued to see what happens in ARe as I sell a tremendous number of books through that vendor.

Please Follow this blog to be aware of my next Parts of this Series. I will discuss how to select a designer, an editor, how to be efficient and smart about it all and save yourself time and money.

Then too I will talk about strategies and how well I think this book accomplished my own goals.

Thanks for reading--and happy publishing!

LADY STARLING'S STOCKINGS out at Amazon for 99 cents!

2011-07-19T08:23:00.001-05:00

FOR 99 cents!
Buy link:
Lady Starling's Stockings
And do read Part 2 of my self-pubbed journey below in the next post.
Part 3 begins tomorrow!

Part 2: MY SELF-PUB LIFE or How I learned to love new aspects of publishing

2011-07-19T00:02:00.084-05:00

My latest thriller with Desiree Holt & available now: Until Midnight

Now that I had a viable story, I knew what was coming was the Picky-Picky Part, all those pesky details that can make you or break you in any biz.

What did I face?

The formatting came first. The very thought of all that text formatting and coding made my head spin. What did this girl do?

Yes, I downloaded the guides for Kindle and Smashwords. I read. I pondered in my heart if I could do this or even wanted to.

Concurrently, I read the wonderfully informative emails posted on the RWA-PAN loop (to which you may belong if you are a published author under RWA's guidelines). I read them, but more importantly, I took notes and I kept them in a special folder. THIS has permitted me to return time and again to re-read vital bits of info. Authors there came to share their experiences and their advice. The topics ranged from whether or not to buy ISBNs, how to post as more than one name, one type of genre, how to avoid errors of up-loading. Oh, the fun we have. But invaluable to me. And I am, once more struck by how much I have benefitted from belonging to RWA for almost 30 years. Yes. I was 12 when I joined.... I digress!

And also at the same time, I created my copyright pages. Advice on how to do this begins with the dictum to not use the copyright symbol because the formats do not like it. But then comes the other part of which text to use. There are many! For this book, I used one for those who write historicals with reference to real people, now long departed, but nonetheless needful of clauses. This book refers to Napoleon's brother-in-law Murat and to the new king of France in this period. As for all else around the hero and heroine, many who did perform their functions, such as the English ambassador, needed to be disclaimed. Pesky, but true! Hence, this search for copyright and its citation took TIME. So did the writing of my bio, edited to be useful for this book and current listings of reviews pertinent to the book! Advice from me: Beware the details that will consume time and effort but must be correct to be useful!

Back to our discussion of formatting and reading the Guides!

So, how did I do with the Guides? I dunno, maybe I'm just thick, but much of it was like reading gobbledygook-pooh-pooh-pa-do. I had to re-read them. Take notes. (We always used to say in financial services that the jargon is in there to impress and keep people OUT of the profession. When I wrote financial issues for The Washington Post, the editors loved my stuff because I wrote for the common man and woman.) Armed with my insights (and I use that term loosely), I tried to develop a text that looked like what they declared they needed. Did I get it right?

To be honest, I am not certain. Why? Because at this point, I had spent a few hours and time is big money to me. Hence, I hired a formatter to do this task for me. Chicken, yes, you may call me that perhaps. But as a colleague of mine says, (Mary Jo Putney) she did not want to burn up her own mental Bytes with skills that someone else had mastered. That's me! I LIKE professional help that saves me heartaches. But mostly to me, Heartache Time IS money. Heartaches kill my creativity, bog it down in Things That Make Me Wince. Ergo, the formatter for me. And in my case, my graphic designer also provides this service for others of her clients who hire her for the cover design. (And yes, you may write to me privately and I will share her email with you, as I will for my professional editor. A list of all comes later in another part of this series.)

As of earlier today, I have completed the forms on my own Amazon Kindle Publishing page. I have posted the hi res of the cover. I have sent the .mobi file format given me by my designer and sent the whole package off for REVIEW.

Drumming fingers.

Waiting now.

Takes 24 - 72 hours for them to decide if they like your cover, text and if you have filled out all the blanks correctly, completely.
Tick tock. Tick tock....
TOMORROW, Part 3!

PART I: MY SELF-PUB LIFE or How I learned to love new aspects of publishing

2011-07-18T00:01:00.028-05:00

My latest Regency! Lady Varney's Risqué Business

Am I ready this week finally to put up a 99-center at Kindle?
Oh, yes. But my journey into self-pubbing a book in digital format has been a journey! A BIG ONE!
Loving the success of my erotic Regencies, and cascading down a hill of delight after a week of SIX five star reviews for different books from different sites, I am giggly, jittery and in a panic.
Why?
I hate new learning curves. AND THE ONE FOR THIS has been gig-i-normous!
But I wanted to try this for many reasons. What are they? They begin with the fact that I thought this 99 cent push would increase my readership numbers and complement what I do at EC, Total-E-Bound and Resplendence. (I also have a few books rights' reverted to me from my print books and I wanted to learn how to do all this to get them out into the digital world.)
My goals in place, my strategy developed and I kept on going.
The first task, create a plot and characters I adore!
Now my challenge as an author is to see and feel the people before I write them. No outlines. No character charts. Nah. Not for moi. I have got to SEE these folks. This Takes Time. Usually 2 or 3 a.m. Time. You feel me.
Then, I need to know the conflict and I have to SEE the story. For me, this means visualizing the scenes and their dialogue.
Then, what? We come to my first WONDERFUL benefit of self-pubbing: I went, dear reader, SHOPPING. Not for shoes. Not for clothes. Or purses. Shopping for a LOOK. Yep. You get me. ART.
Now, for some this is a quick affair. For me? I spent my life in corporate and government PR and advertising. So art means the world to me. And if one benefit of self-pubbing is that I am going to be able to choose my branding look with art, lemme just say, it will be precisely what I want. So my shopping was a joy and I indulged myself in it for hours, days, days and days. I hear you as you say, wow, where is this art?
I will show you. Soon. (she teased.)
Having found the art to go with my plot, I knew what artist I wanted and I approached her. Yes, she is a pro and she had done work for me before and yes, I did love it all! Having worked with artists for decades, I can tell one who has not only software but skills AND an artistic eye. For me, this artist has it in spades and she understands romance and erotica. Vital to have an artist who knows your genre and the audience's needs.
Within one email and exchange of ideas on the art I had chosen, this artist had my perfect concept back to me within days. Fueled now by the beauty of what my product would look like, I moved in fully to the task of writing the book.
Let me just say, the writing was not hard.
Oh, no. Never has been. I submerge, go into Flow and do not come out until it is done and I am happy with the product.
However, what happened after I thought I was finished was a bit of a rough go.
And what happened? I walked away, as I always do and asked myself (as you, Dear Author, also ask yourself), what's missing? What did I not say? What did I not include? How might this be better?
And as I asked, I did something I usually NEVER do: I sent it to a Beta reader.
As a professional writer now for many decades, I learned long ago the only person I must please is my editor. Without one, what's a girl to do, eh?
I had an answer! I have friends, accomplished, delightful, HELPFUL friends. I sent LADY STARLING'S STOCKINGS to her and she raved! She adored it! Big hit, she proclaimed. Great conflict and resolution. We talked about this and that in the plot and I felt better. Relieved!
Result? I stopped worrying that this story was not up to my own standards OR that of my accomplished friend's.
Next step?
One I am used to. Send it to an editor. Now this person I know well, too. She is a professional fiction editor, an expert copy and line editor and one I knew would comb my manuscript for the elements it needed to make it, dare I say, superb. Especially if it already...wasn't.
This person I paid. Gladly. I am not a sloppy writer. I am good at grammar and spell check is my pal, but occasionally I will omit a word, a bit of logic, an emotion that might make the work perfect. I knew this editor would find all those pesky things.
And she did.
What's more--and I knew this would happen--during the interim, I had thought about my story. In the shower. In the car. Cooking. Dining. I re-read it one day. OH. I. FELT. WHERE. THINGS. NEEDED to be added!
So when my friend/copyeditor came back to me, I rejoiced at her comments and her copy edits. Yes, she had done what I, in my creativity, failed to see or do.
The result?
I edited as per her suggestions here and there. Then I went in and added those things I FELT it needed. And viola! In the end, the work had roughly 3000 more words! Not bad. I re-read them, too. All necessary, I concluded.
What was next?
Return for Part 2: My Self-Pub Life or How I learned to love New Aspects of Self-publishing!
When? Tomorrow!

Night Mission? Oh. You. Bet! Desiree Holt is in the house!

2011-07-13T17:56:00.000-05:00

Navy SEAL Gabriel Walker didn’t think he was asking too much, just a hot woman with some brains who made his down time between missions pleasant. And maybe a little but more. Forty-something Maggie Fitzpatrick wanted a younger man with a sex drive to match her own and even smarts to hold a conversation. And maybe a little bit more. When Madame Evangeline paired them for the one night stand neither of them expected the explosive chemistry, the very hot sex…and a littler bit more.

Need a nibble?

Course you do!

"The first thing he noticed was the living room of the suite, decorated like a room from the mid-1800s, only with modern upgrades. The second thing–which should have been the first–nearly made his heart stop. A nearly-naked woman lounged on the couch, wearing the shortest, sheerest…whatever the hell it was called, that he’d ever seen. He hoped his jaw didn’t become unhinged when it hit the floor, or that she expected a lot of conversation right off the bat.

No question about it. I am definitely locked and loaded.

“Hi!” She flashed him an incendiary smile, her low, seductive voice hinting at her Texas heritage. “Come on in. I’ve been waiting for you.”

He lifted an eyebrow. “Have you, now. All your life?”

“I don’t know. You tell me.” She laughed softly.

She rose languidly from the couch and the sunlight pouring in through the sheer curtains left nothing beneath her shortie to anyone’s imagination. If he’d ordered a dream woman, this would be her.

Oh, wait. I did. And here she is.

Gabe dropped his duffel by the door and strode over to where she stood on ridiculously high slip-on stiletto heels.

“Well. Let’s finds out.”

He grinned down at her, placed his hands on her shoulders and bent his head. The moment his mouth touched hers, a jolt of electricity sizzled through him. Her mouth tasted every bit as good as it looked, and when his tongue slid inside, she tasted better than finely aged bourbon. She molded herself to him, her full breasts pressing against the hard wall of his chest, her slender fingers rubbing up and down his arms. He let his tongue wander everywhere inside her mouth, licking the slick, inner surfaces, drinking from her as if he’d never be able to get enough. When she glided her own tongue over his, he tightened his grip on her and sucked her deep inside his mouth.

“Well,” she gasped when he lifted his head, the pulse at her throat hammering wildly. “Hello to you, too.”

BEST BOOK of the WEEK for UNTIL MIDNIGHT!

2011-07-08T10:26:00.000-05:00

Whipped Cream's Best Book Sundae!

A fast-paced and exciting read from the very first paragraph, this story is truly riveting and magnetic in its intensity. Rarely have I found a more erotically thrilling and satisfying affair than the one between this powerfully sexual and dynamic couple. The voracious and undeniable passion they have for each other slams into them the instant they meet and is urgently and immediately answered.

Nicole is a sexy, independent woman who is also a highly trained security professional with her own agency. Adam is a human weapon of assault and defense for military, Massad. They are thrown together in a private resort in Mexico by mysterious circumstances, expecting solitude and rest rather that the full-scale assassination attempts that Nicole has become the target of. They meet suddenly when Nicole is shot at and Adam is there, out of nowhere, to save her life by taking out the assassin. That is only the beginning of their mysterious and unexpected battle.

The intensity of these two type-A personalities and their open and straight-forward approach to their wild, abandoned sex completely captured me. Their fierce attraction creates a raging hunger that they have no desire to deny. This results in an unexpected and unbelievably hot experience that follows them throughout a dangerous and exhausting adventure. Nicole and Adam become competent and exciting partners in this clever and gutsy crime thriller.

The pace and suspense of the story and the explosive energy of the love affair is addicting. There is just the right amount of tension and complexity to the plot, which is compelling in itself. I was impressed with the superior and subtle character development and the nearly flawless flow of dialog. Add to that the chemistry between the highly intelligent and active main characters and it spells winner.

Until Midnight kept me on the edge of my seat and was a fun, roaring-hot read. I have nothing but praise for Desiree Holt and Cerise Deland, and will follow this series wherever they lead. If you appreciate high voltage romance and adventure, and quality writing, then you will want to read this story.

Here is an eloquent quote from this highly romantic tale: “Yes, she craved him. Like sunshine and rain. And for an excitement and delight in living that she had never known until he took her in his arms and loved her with that fabulous body.” I hope you enjoy, Until Midnight as much as I did.

Cougar? Need inspiration? Try newest Nicole Austin

2011-07-07T12:45:00.000-05:00

OUT IN PRINT! Cougar Hunt http://www.jasminejade.com

Summer of the Cougar by Nicole Austin
With the big four-oh looming, Larissa Cross is more than ready to shed the
roles that have defined her and make drastic changes. Gone are the widowed
Army wife, soccer mom and empty nester. She’s even setting aside the
schoolteacher until fall.

A naughty challenge issued by fellow erotic romance booklovers on their blog
Tempt the Cougar, has come at the perfect time and ignited Rissa’s
competitive drive. It’s going to be a glorious summer full of hot younger
man lovin’ for a new cougar on the prowl. Rawr!

Tattooed and pierced fireman JD Harmon is tempting prey but there’s much more to the hunk than his bad boy good looks. A one-night stand isn’t in his plans, and sex—no matter how mind-blowing— won’t distract him from his goals. JD intends to tame the wicked cougar and stake a claim on her heart.
Locked and Loaded Samantha Cayto
Former army-turned- ER doctor Grace McKinnon is through with going to bed
with nothing more than fantasies and a yearning to resurrect her personal
life. She’s determined instead to take the Cougar Challenge with a flesh and
hot-blooded younger man. She discovers the perfect opportunity steaming up
the curtain of exam room four.

Captain Mark Bennington has been locked and loaded—ready for action—since
meeting Grace. He’s on a mission to heat up the Boston nights while on leave
This sexy older woman is lighting his way, fulfilling double-time every sex
wish he’s ever made. But it’s going to be the toughest fight of his life to
convince her to take a chance on more than just a fling.

Copping a Feel Lexxie Couper
Darci-Rae Whitlam doesn’t know which is more disturbing, receiving scads of
obscene phone calls—or getting so turned-on by said phone calls. Then
there’s the email from her American friend, Rachel, taunting Darci with
something called a Cougar Challenge. Just the thought of seducing a younger
man is enough to permanently soak her knickers. No wonder her
ever-disapproving sister thinks she’s oversexed!

Cybercrime Detective Jarrod St. James is investigating a case of stolen
identity. He quickly learns the fiery redhead claiming to be Darci-Rae
Whitlam is the real deal (his shoulder trapped in the jaws of her gargantuan
dog might have sped that decision along). He really should go back to Sydney
continue tracking the imposter who’s operating a phone-sex business in
Darci’s name…but the woman proves too tempting. Job be damned, he has to
have her. The fact she’s got a titillating challenge to complete only helps
his case.

Darci just may be the fastest cougar to snag her cub yet. Being the victim
of a crime has never been more fun!

Bang-on great words for I CAUGHT THE SHERIFF

2011-06-30T16:53:00.000-05:00

Over at Whipped Cream today, a few wonderful words about my sheriff and how she gets her man!
Need a bang up 4th? Want to see how we do it in Texas?
You know you do.
Here it is:
Lex Coltrane has a thing for the new sheriff, a woman named Lana.

This story has sexual tension from the beginning and it [never] stops even when Lex and Lana enter into a sexual relationship. The pacing is fast, the dialogue crisp and Lana comes across as not only a tough law woman, but one who knows what she wants in and out of the bedroom. In this particular case it’s Lex and the author did a great job showing us why. He’s sexy, smart and wants Lana no matter what.

The sex scenes are very hot and there’s something for just about everyone’s taste in erotic stories. Sometimes I laughed at Lana and wanted to cheer her on when she hooks Lex. I liked the idea that not only had the author chosen to make the law person female in this story but also enjoyed that Lana was a modern woman in other aspects of her life too.

I thought the story would have a different ending and the one the author chose surprised me. It was satisfying and if you’re looking for a ‘quickie’ read for a hot summer day or night, this one fits the bill.
http://www.whippedcream2.blogspot.com/?zx=e48e73c7292634
KISSES TO THE FOLKS at WC!
I Caught the Sheriff

Laugh of the DAY!

2011-06-24T00:00:00.000-05:00

George Lopez reads his own version of romance novels--with heroes that are Working Stiffs!

http://www.lopeztonight.com/episode_recaps_and_highlights/blue_collar_romance_novels.php

WINNER WINNER!

2011-06-22T15:29:00.003-05:00

THANKs to all of you who came for the bag of goodies contest and the giveaway goes to...drumroll!
Debby236. (Do email me your snail mail addy!)
THANKS AND ENJOY!
Kisses to all who are so excited about LADY VARNEY'S RISQUE BUSINESS!
She sits on 3 top 10 best seller lists and I am tickled!

HOLT & DELAND ROCK IT OUT! TODAY!

2011-06-18T00:09:00.000-05:00

GAMES, FUN AND PRIZES WITH DESIREE HOLT and ME! WHERE?
http://www.cyberlaunchparty.blogspot.com/

Desiree!

Can you resist a Texas Ranger?
Skye Chamberlain can't!

This is the first of monthly ROCK PARTIES by the 2 of us. You do not want to miss the fun as we celebrate our newest releases!

Slurplilicious cover, STRONG ARMS OF THE LAW--and a nibble!

2011-06-15T00:07:00.006-05:00

Every woman values the strong arms of the law. Especially Skye Chamberlain.
Why?
She’s a crime writer and she’s in a heap of trouble since she saw a murder by the leader of a Mexican drug gang. But that’s not her biggest problem. Oh, no.
For two months now, she’s been cooped up in witness protection in a teensy weensy house with the biggest, toughest, most maddeningly charming Texas Ranger.
And he?
Rex Martinez thinks this sassy piece of Anglo ass is the sweetest, wildest chick to ever give him a hard-on.
How can they survive two more weeks of this torment--and keep their hands off each other?
Link:
http://www.jasminejade.com/p-9414-strong-arm-of-the-law.aspx

Excerpt (copyright 2011, Cerise DeLand):
What was wrong with her?
Cabin fever was one thing.
Horny is another, Skye.
She fell backward against her bedroom door and rubbed her palms over her aching breasts. God, how she wanted his hands on her. His mouth. His cock. His everything.
Two months in the wilderness with the Lone Ranger has you stupid for him, Skye. So what if he’s built like the Starship Enterprise? All right, all right. So he’s droll as John Wayne. Handsome as the devil. Wise as an owl. And endowed like a rock-hard porn star.
Ohhh, stop this! He’s only interested in you because you’re his only choice. Bet the girls all drool over him at the local dancehall. Texas Ranger, white hat, big gun, big hands and huge balls.
Get over it, Chamberlain!
All you want is a good roll in the hay.
But that wasn’t all she wanted. Not from Rex Martinez. No sir. From him, she wanted more than one great fuck. She wanted all day, all night. His honed muscles plastered to her body. His thick, rasping bass voice rubbing her senses, letting her feel him deep inside her pussy, all the way up in her cunt, his thighs rocking against hers.
She pushed away from the door, strode to her closet and stepped out of her panties. She wanted to be surrounded by strength like his.
Mountainous strength.
Indominable.
Like she’d never known.
Like she’d only read about in novels.
A man so centered, so realistic, so sure of himself and what he was meant to do in the world, that she was in awe of him.
How she even got a few words out to talk with him had begun to astonish her. And she was never enthralled by anyone. Years in the savage realities of the ER. She knew it. So did her editor, and it was how she was able to go into some rough crime areas and do research. How she kept her cool and her stomach from up-chucking. How she made her living. Even this gig that had gotten her in so much trouble with this Gonzaga clan, had not frightened her. At first.
“Blonde, built and begging for it,” was how her editor billed her desire to come to South Texas and see if she could meet any of the Gonzagas. “You have to be safe out there, Skye. No series is worth getting killed for. And you know this familia is one of the most cruel along the Rio Grande. I do not want you kidnapped or maimed. Get another plot. I can do without this story.”
“But you can’t, Chuck,” she’d told her boss at her publishing house. “Journalists aren’t going in any more. Hell, even if a newspaper has the research staff, they think twice about sending them in to Mexico. But these Gonzaga boys are women’s worst nightmare. Importing sex slaves from Asia into Mexico and across the border into Texas. Kidnapping women from the border towns and forcing them into prostitution in bordellos in Chihuahua and Monterrey. Last year, they kidnapped two female sheriffs. One they killed, but the other one we think they have kept alive in Nuevo Laredo. This makes the basis for a great novel.”
He had agreed to the angle, but hated the fact she would be such a blonde Anglo target. But she had lucked out. Renting a house across the American-Mexican border in Nuevo Laredo, she had attracted the amorous attentions of the man whom many suspected of being the familia’s second in command. He was hot for her and ready to make her his own special puta, too, when she’d heard him admit to killing three women. Then the next night, she’d witnessed his buddy kill three females. Skye had been able to feed information to the Texas Rangers about that and a raid the Gonzagas planned on an all-girl’s high school in Texas. They had caught the murderer and then put the second in command behind bars. Skye was their star witness against both men.
The Gonzagas put a price on her head.
“And here I am,” she whispered, looked back at the bedroom door and decided what to do with the rest of what the odds said would be a shorter life than she predicted. “Here I am, Rex Martinez, wanting you.”
She strode, naked as a bird, to the door. She opened it and there he was. Her Ranger, still standing in the same spot she’d left him.
Surprised, he moved only his brows as his baby blue eyes flamed at the sight of her nude body.
“You know what I think, Ranger?”
“Got me, honey.” Truth was, his gaze said he got her lips, and her nipples and her bellybutton and her blonde-haired pussy.
“I think the trial might be too long, and your paycheck too small.”
“To do what?”
“Wait.”
Come to AUTHOR ISLAND http://www.cyberlaunchparty.blogspot.com/ on 6/18 for the first HOLT and DELAND ROCK IT OUT book blast! Fun, prizes!!!

HOLT & DELAND ROCK IT OUT! Party & prizes!

2011-06-09T18:01:00.000-05:00

Two books, two authors, gobs of giveaways!
June 15! At www.authorisland.com
DETAILS TO COME!

Take 1 Rancher, add whip--and a woman he loves and you get....

2011-06-07T00:03:00.000-05:00

CRACK THE WHIP by~ drumroll~ Desiree Holt!

Go to http://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-crackthewhip-544207-144.html

This will make your day divine!

What's it about?

When rancher Reece Halliday met the new manager of his fetish club, Rawhide, he was shocked to see Katie Warren, the woman he'd loved and lost because of his sexual preferences. But a lot of time has passed and Katie has discovered the lure and satisfaction of BDSM―including the pleasurable sting of the single tail whip. Will Reece be able to lure her back into his arms―and bed―when he cracks the whip during their private sessions?

“So maybe if you tell me how it happened, I’ll answer your question about me.”

“Fair enough.” He set his cup back in the saucer. “Remember Chad Willoughby, my college roommate?”

Katie nodded.

“Chad’s brother was into the life big time. When Chad graduated from law school, he got Chad a guest pass at the private fetish club he belonged to and said he could bring a friend.” He looked down. “I’d…been to a club twice before when we were together. But never did any more than watch,” he added quickly. “That’s when I brought everything up to you. I was fascinated with the lifestyle and wanted us to try some of these things together.” His grin was rueful. “My idea didn’t work out so well, as I remember.”

“No. It didn’t.” If only she hadn’t reacted so badly. “So what happened at the club?

“It seemed I was finally going to experience the things I’d only fantasized about. Chad’s brother arranged for each of us to have a sub for the evening along with a trained instructor.” He paused to sip more coffee.

“And?” she prompted.

“To be blunt about it, I discovered a desire for it I didn’t even know I had. It was the most explosive night I’d ever had sexually. And that’s taking nothing away from what you and I had together.”

“But you wanted more.” Oh, she was sure of that. She felt a trap opening, yawning like a big hole before her. “On a regular basis.”

“I did. A lot more. And more often. I for sure couldn’t look for action anywhere around the Hill Country. You know how conservative the ranching community is. Not even my brothers know about my…preferences.”

Katie gave him a quizzical look. “So what did you do?”

“Joined the club in Tampa Chad’s brother took us to. They have an arrangement for guest privileges in other clubs around the country. I…took a lot of business trips.” He stopped to take another swallow of coffee.]

“Your brothers didn’t ask questions?”

He shook his head. “I timed my trips to coincide with legitimate business. Conventions. Meetings. Whatever.” His eyes raked over her face possessively. “But here’s the plain truth. I really wanted you, Katie. I wanted it all. You and the life.”

“Which is what led to the scene in our hotel room.” When she so childishly ran away. It wasn’t just the things themselves he was proposing. It was the total implication, the fear that she could lose herself in him completely. A very dangerous edge.

He grinned. “Yeah. That was some scene. I still remember how you looked, spread out…”

“Stop.” She held up her hand. “That’s not what I meant. Can we stick to the conversation at hand?”

The look he gave her nearly incinerated her dress. “Afraid to talk about it, sugar?”

Nibble on my new cherry, LADY VARNEY!

2011-06-03T14:04:00.003-05:00

LADY VARNEY’S RISQUE BUSINESS is a bit of funny business that I hope you enjoy!

A nibble of my newest cherry?

Available at Resplendence, but also at Allromanceebooks.com where I am dying to rise on that list (as my other Regencies did there). Help me out, will you? http://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-ladyvarney039srisquebusiness-549359-160.html

He hurried her along the hall and into an alcove. “While I am relieved to hear that you are not pregnant—”

“Hush! Are you an idiot?”

“Mad, delusional, a cretin in the mix!” He stepped inside a tiny hallway lined with cupboards and closed two doors on either side of the four foot space. “Call me any name you like, my Puss. You are driving me out of my head!”

“Well deserved, too!” she blustered as he pulled her into his arms and she once more felt the marvelous sensation of being captured by him. Held against his warmth. His might.

“Not by half, you minx. You cash my bank notes. But you will not receive me at home. You avoid me at church. Walk around me in the Park. I am reduced to waylaying you like a highwayman at a party on Wednesday afternoon!”

A laugh bubbled up from her throat but she squelched it. “We have nothing to say to each other.”

“No,” he said with dour tone. “We have so much to say that only this will do.” He caught her chin, wrapped one arm around her waist and kissed as he had that first night in her drawing room. Long and lavishly. Repeatedly. Killing her reason and her resolve.

Her fan slid from her fingers. Her hands pulled him closer. These past weeks, she’d pined for him like a schoolgirl. She’d relived every moment in his arms, in his bed, even in his rose garden at his cottage. She had cried and mooned and railed at fate for what she could not have.

He took her mouth with ravenous delight, trailing kisses across her cheek and down her throat to her bodice. His hands molded her to him and suddenly, she felt his fingers lift her skirts and slide to her pussy. Caress her seam. “Darling, I am so delighted you wear none of those ridiculous pantaloons. You are so plump and wet for me,” he murmured and what words came next became a serenade of all the endearments he had declared in his cottage and all that still lived in her heart.

He undid his flies, and plunged up inside her. Against the cupboard, she braced herself and gave over to the rapture of his possession.

He was warm and turgid and—

Something shattered.

Tinkled all around them.

“Don’t move,” he warned as he held her tightly.

“What?” she asked soundlessly, her cunt so full of him, her breasts so needy of his kisses she thought she’d scream.

Blinking repeatedly to clear his vision and his head, he glanced about them. “Dear god, sweetheart, we’ve broken the family crystal.”

She surveyed the tiny room and the astonishing wreckage. “Justin. Oh, hell! We’re in the butler’s pantry!”

Cowboys? Randi Alexander's got 'em! A giveaway, too!

2011-05-30T00:00:00.002-05:00

New Release and Book Giveaway!

Thank you for having me as a guest today. Like Cerise, I enjoy writing cowboy erotic romances, and I love reading them as well. But why do so many erotic romances feature cowboys?

We usually think of the physical characteristics of a cowboy first; the muscles and the hat, the boots and the strong jaw. Well worn jeans and eyes that could cut steel if he's riled up…or melt a heart when he's charming. A deep voice and an intimate drawl that sends skitters up a lady's spine. And then there are all the fun accessories a cowboy uses, like whips and ropes.

And that's all good and sexy, but there's more to the mystique. In my opinion, a cowboy is the strong, silent type who prefers to keep himself under control, emotionally and physically. He possesses an inherent virility that makes him the perfect romantic hero, and the perfect catch for a spunky heroine.

He's a gentleman, first and foremost, and protects what's his, and will even help protect what isn't his, if asked. A strong sense of right and wrong guides him in everything he does.

A cowboy needs patience and a firm hand to spend long hours riding herd on livestock, or training horses, or climbing on a rank bull for that eight second ride. And those traits come in handy when he's set his sights on seducing his woman. Patience, because he knows he'll get what he wants, no matter how long it takes and how much persuasion she requires. And a firm hand in the bedroom to assure her pleasure…as well as his own.

I hope I've captured the true essence of the cowboy in my hero, Chase, from my new release, Chase and Seduction Here's a blurb and an excerpt to give you a taste--or a nibble, as Cerise says.

Country music superstar/actor Chase Tanner has yet to be denied anything–and he’s never wanted anything or anyone more than gorgeous screenplay writer Reno Linden. So when the film they are working on is finally finished, Chase decides to turn up the volume on seducing Reno.

Reno Linden lived a quiet, rural life until she was thrust into the Hollywood scene when her book was adapted to film. Chase Tanner is larger than life, sinfully sexy and hell-bent on getting her into bed. Skittish after a failed wedding engagement, Reno risks the plunge into Chase’s arms, and is surprised that her good girl self can keep up with bad boy Chase.

Though Chase returns to his cowboy roots often, and Reno cherishes the time spent with him on his ranch, the two find their careers pulling them in different directions. Will their attraction survive the glitz and stress of fame?

EXCERPT: Over 18 only

“Woman! Don’t make me come after you!”

Reno straightened, showing him her profile. “You could never catch me, old man.”

“Old?” Chase leapt to his feet, and she jerked, dropping the flower. “I’ll show you old.” He stalked toward her.

She let out a shriek and bolted in the opposite direction, laughing crazily.

He took a hop, then ran hard and fast, and was upon her in seconds. Grabbing her around the waist, he lifted her off her feet. “There’s no getting away from me, Reno.”

She slapped at his hands. “Let me go, you evil letch.”

He released her, only to grab one wrist, bend and grab her opposite knee, and lift her over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry, her warm skin rubbing against his, kindling a fire in each nerve she touched.

She squealed and laughed. “Chase, you put me down.”

Dominating her this way sent a rush of desire through him, and her weight felt like a feather as he strode back to their blanket. Reaching up, he swatted her behind. “You hush now.”

Her indrawn breath was followed by a soft moan. Then she asked, “And if I don’t hush?”

To celebrate the release of Chase and Seduction, I'm giving away, to one lucky *commenter, an e-copy of my novella Her Cowboy Stud. Just leave a comment today and we'll choose a winner tomorrow. *Commenter must be 18 years of age or older to win.

I'm also giving away a cowgirl hat to one subscriber to my newsletter. For more details, and to sign up for this contest, please go to my website, RandiAlexander.com And while you're there, you can read the first chapter of Chase and Seduction.

Good luck, and thank you!

Randi

RandiAlexander.com

WildAndWickedCowboysBlog

Buy Chase and Seduction at The Wild Rose Press Wilder Roses

What has reading romances taught our sons and daughters?

2011-05-29T12:11:00.003-05:00

What have we taught our children about love and romance simply by having the books in the house?
I have a few thoughts on this and tomorrow (Monday) I post on http://www.saucyandsinfulreviews.com to show you how these discussions happened in our house!

Come over and read our family dialogue!