Wednesday, December 30, 2009

Guest author Jean Hart Stewart's new book--a taste

GET READY for a yummy taste of Jean's newest!

Gareth was lost, and knew it. He could practically hear his self-control shattering like a piece of thinnest crystal. Fighting desperately to retain some semblance of restraint, he shuddered as he watched her undress quickly. He wanted to help, but knew he didn’t dare touch her or he might lose what little control he still possessed. He stripped off his own few garments. Then he led her to his bed as fast as he could walk. Strange, he was barefoot and he didn’t limp at all. His Morgana must know plenty about magic herself. He lay her on the bed and followed her down, lying as close beside her as he could. Trembling, he held himself still. He could not, he would not take her as quickly as his rampant body urged. Like entering her in one stroke and claiming her immediately.
Then Morgana reached out one tentative finger and traced a path down his bare arm, leaving little shock waves behind as she caressed his curving muscle. That was more than he could withstand, and Gareth rose over her with a swiftness unexpected from his large frame. He had just enough presence of mind to finger her enticing curls, and found them delightfully wet. She was blessedly ready for him, and he placed his member in her entrance and then started to inch his way in.
Merlin forgive him, this was too sudden. He tried to stop, or at least slow down.
Morgana didn’t help matters by seizing his hips and urging him on. He groaned and then surrendered to the irrepressible desire shaking them both and plunged himself to her core. A few strokes later he covered her lips with his, ecstatic to know she was with him all the way, as he groaned and then swallowed both their cries of delight.
They climaxed together with an ecstasy even greater than their last joining.
Although their breathing calmed, he did not move from her body. He did prop himself up in his elbows, but didn’t withdraw from the precious link they still shared. He’d like to stay in her perfect body forever.
“How are you, my dearest love? I know I went much too fast, but I couldn’t seem to help myself. It seems I’ve wanted you too much, and for too long.”
She brushed back the lock of dark hair inevitably drooping over his eyes. Always unruly, now it was simply doing what it wanted, as it dropped right back down.
“Don’t move yet, Gareth. It’s so right to have you there. You fill me completely. Do you think I’m a wanton for liking this? I certainly feel like one.”
“If so, I want you stay this way. I love wicked wenches.”
She swatted at him and then her eyes grew even rounder. Her fingers grew bolder, and she traced his nipples in sensuous circles. Suddenly she stopped.
“Gareth, I can feel you growing inside me again. Is this normal?”
Both books are available at or at the Cerridwen section of Ellora's Cave. link is .

Saturday, December 26, 2009

Fellow author Afton Locke and her new release are BURNING UP THE HOUSE

Inspiration: On my trip to Scotland, I had the misfortune of catching a cold and of course it rained a lot. All I wanted was something HOT. After deciding I wanted to do story about hot wax, I knew this would be the perfect setting.
Other books by Afton, available at Ellora's Cave:
Cicada - paranormal/light BDSM
Sexual Energy - futuristic m/m/f menage
See for excerpts, trailers, and more.
Tandy travels to Scotland ’s Loch Enya castle to attend a BDSM convention she hopes will overcome her control-freak tendencies. When Bryne pulls her into his room of fire, she fears she’s stepped into the lair of a crazy man. But as he mesmerizes her and sears her with his hot passions, she consents to a BDSM session of hot wax play that turns out to be the most intense journey of her life. Entrusting her body and mind to him might heal her, but the elemental fire fairy has an agenda of his own that threatens to consume them both in flames.
Excerpt (Rated R):
An Excerpt From: CANDELABRA
Copyright © AFTON LOCKE, 2009
All Rights Reserved, Ellora's Cave Publishing, Inc.

“Welcome to Loch Enya Castle ,” the ruddy-faced bus driver announced. “Are ye ready for the thrills awaitin’ ye?”

Thrills? Oh yeah. I’m thrilled enough to throw myself under the tires of this bus.
There should be a law against such cheerful bus drivers, Tandy Davis thought as she tried to rub the dampness out of her long, red hair. She was wet and miserable and her sinuses threatened to explode any minute from a lousy head cold.

“This historic castle is five-hundred years old,” the driver went on. “Rumors say it’s haunted but if you hear any bumps or screams, it’s most likely The Smoky Daggers, the wildest BDSM group in all of Scotland . You might be doing some screamin’ of yer own, I daresay,” he said, guffawing at his own joke.

Whatever had possessed her to go all the way to Scotland and experience BDSM sex? It had seemed like a great idea when she’d signed up for it. After almost losing her job and driving her family and friends nuts, she’d decided to finally do something about her “control freak” tendencies.

Little did they know the “seminar” she planned to attend was really her first BDSM session. What better way to learn how to hand over the reins than to be a sub? The hot sex would be a bonus. It had been way too long since she’d had sex…

I can’t do this, she thought as she got off the bus with the others and entered the gray, stony and very depressing-looking castle. Submissive sex with a total stranger? No way. She collected her ancient room key and orientation packet from the front desk.

Tandy squinted at the map as she stumbled up a winding flight of stairs and down a dark hallway to her room. With its stone walls and fireplace it looked just as foreboding as the outside. Warming her hands over the heater, she peeked through the drawn velvet drapes at the foggy, gray loch outside.

A pigeon cooed from somewhere on the complicated roofline. Chicken, it seemed to say. How could she face everyone back home knowing she’d chickened out?

She opened the orientation packet and saw the list of activities she’d signed up for—bondage, the ultimate challenge for a control freak, and wax play because she and an old boyfriend had messed around with a candle once and it had been kind of fun.

She decided to go to the orientation, which was in an hour according to the schedule. Then she’d skip tonight’s session and play tomorrow by ear. But first she desperately needed a nap.

* * * * *

Hours later, Tandy bolted upright and cursed. It was twilight—gloaming as they called it here. She’d slept for hours, missing the orientation and the evening BDSM session had already started. If she hurried, she could tell her assigned partner she was too sick to participate.

Taking her key, she got all the way down the hall before she realized she’d memorized the room number for her session but had forgotten her castle map. Oh well. How hard could it be to find?

Minutes later, she was hopelessly lost. She’d given up on finding it and was just trying to return to her room. When she found a door that resembled hers, she turned the key and breathed a huge sigh of relief when the door swung open with a squeak.

So why was there a naked man hanging from her ceiling? Another man flicked his whip impatiently with one hand and applied lube to his own cock with another.

“Excuse us,” he said. “We’re in the middle of something.”

Obviously. “I’m terribly sorry,” Tandy muttered. “I must have the wrong room.”

She closed the door and frowned at her key. How nice. They must use the same lock for multiple rooms here. She kept walking until she found another door like hers. This time she decided to knock first. A woman with pins and clamps lacing her nipples opened it.

“Top of the evening to you, little chickadee. Care to join us?”

Inside, men and women wearing various chains and clamps eyed her like prime tenderloin.

“Some other time,” Tandy said hurriedly before she shut the door.

Enough was enough. If she stumbled into one more scene like that, she wasn’t sure she’d make it out of the castle alive. BDSM? What had she been thinking? She decided to go downstairs and ask for directions.

On her way, she found a door she was sure was hers. She crossed her fingers and knocked. Her heart sank when it opened. Wrong again and she’d already viewed more than enough kink for one night.

Instead, she found herself face-to-face with the best looking man she’d seen on this entire trip. Dark, wavy hair brushed his shoulders, matching the neat goatee against his pale skin. But his eyes were what snared her. They were the color of brandy and as intense as a hawk’s. They blazed as if lit from within by a fire.

She forgot all about finding her room. She even forgot she had a room.

“Good evening,” he said, bowing to her. “I’ve been expecting you.” His voice, thick with an almost Shakespearean accent, sounded as historical as he looked.

Since he wore a leather vest with laces over a white peasant shirt, he must be part of the BDSM group and into role-play. Heat flooded Tandy’s face when she looked down and noticed an erection straining against his snug, brown breeches.

“N-no,” she stuttered. “I’m lost. This isn’t—”

But before she could finish her sentence, the man grabbed her wrist. Warmth and energy radiated up her arm from his touch as he pulled her inside his room—which appeared to be on fire—and closed the door. What the hell kind of scene had she stumbled into this time?

Then she was up against the wall, pinned in place by his gaze on her face, hands on her forearms and erection pressing against her pelvis. Everywhere he looked and touched, he scorched her. There was something unusual about him and it wasn’t just his historical outfit.

The flames burning behind him and all around them danced before her eyes in white, yellow and orange streaks until she couldn’t see anything else. The harder she breathed, the more she noticed the acrid tang of smoke in the air. Stunned, she couldn’t have screamed or moved even if he’d released her.
Find more about Afton at:
Ciao, bella!

I will return in the New Year with more AFTERNOON DELIGHTS and excerpts from my 8 new releases coming in 2010!
Join me--as I recover from a broken arm!!!! Arghhh!
Happy 2010!

Thursday, November 26, 2009

A nibble of something ELSE for you today

Because everyone needs a change from that turkey today, I am giving you an exquisite (and exclusive) serving of my new cherry, AT HER SERVICE, out MONDAY at
NOT only is this romantica, but it is a romatic suspense set in 1208 England!
Feast on this, my lovelies!

She licked her lips. He’d teach her how to use them on him.
She spread her arms out. He’d show her how to welcome him into more than one embrace.
On cat’s feet, he padded across her little carpet and kneeled on the bed. It rolled beneath his weight. Yet, she lay there still and waiting for his lead. His cock stirred. He had never been so painfully hard and he had to sink himself inside her soon again or die of her lack. With a flick of his wrist, he peeled the fur away. The pale ivory of her skin had him pausing, fighting down a compliment to the beauty before him. He did it mutely, quickly, running his palm over her shoulder, her shapely arm, her long fingers, the indentation of her waist and the swell of her hip to the curve of her calf and the delicacy of her toes. Ah. He would begin with those.
He shifted to the foot of the bed—and with his move, he detected she gave a sigh of relief. But he had finer plans in store.
With one giant hand to her left foot, he wrapped his hand around her arch and bent to suck her little toe. She jerked in surprise, but he was ready for her and held her to the ticking. She froze. He smiled no smile and set his tongue along the ridge of her other toes. In objection or delight or mayhaps both, she rolled to her back. The glory of the Countess Atherton was spread before him once more—and this time, he had the patience and the presence of mind to absorb the sight of her perfection. Fingering her big toe on one foot, he grasped the other ankle and held her to the bed. For conquest’s sake, for his own delight, he forced her feet apart to view at his leisure now that most vital place that was solely his to lick and suck, to savour and to fuck.
Her cheeks grew pink. She grunted and tried to loose her feet from him, but years of training in the lists and scores of battles in the East, had built strength his delicate Elise could never match. Still, she tried to kick him off. To no avail. She sat up to pummel him. He yanked her ankles with such force, she fell back on the mattress with a yelp, the bedclothes and her glorious big breasts bouncing in the effort.
He slid his hands up her calves. The skin so soft he almost wept. Her knees so rounded, he kissed their flawlessness. Her thighs, so plump but firmly muscled, he squeezed the indentations in admiration for the way she must have held her horse as she rode the beast. The way she would now ride the beast in him.
His hands reached her bushy mons. The wealth of hair that covered her mount of Venus when he’d glimpsed her in the pond years ago as they’d swum together had blossomed in these ten years like a forest. Her cuny hair was a whiter hue than the gilding of the hair on her head. But this—he splayed one set of fingers into her froth of curls—this was his to tease and please, to part and claim. He fingered her labia apart. She moaned, but did not thrash, her duty to let him have her converging with her aged and her newest desire for him. Her glistening cuny lips were drenched in rosy colour that made him narrow his eyes. The smell of her—the meld of her liquid spice and her delicate soap—flared his nostrils. And he bent to spread her fruit and feast on the meal spread before him. He had always enjoyed eating a woman, but Elise was his one true love. The brew she created intoxicated him better than the finest wine and he could feast on her forever and never grow tired of her sugary fare.
In one long swath, his tongue laved her from her cream-covered core to her tiny pearl of love. His fingers holding her open for him, he kissed her jewel and with the tip of his tongue, he circled her and gave her tiny little licks of love that drove her to a mute keen. She arched in delight, but he ran one hand up to her stomach to gentle her.
“I give you more than any man, Elise,” he soothed and caressed her skin down to her groin, then plunged a finger inside her liquid walls. “I always have.” He pulled her heavy lips open with one hand while he stroked inside her with the other. But he could tell one finger was not enough to abrade her and so he shot another inside her. And in approval, she growled deep in her throat. He returned to her rosy hard button to kiss it, lick it and press loud little sucks against it and make her whimper with delight.
He grinned as she ground out, “Have me, Simon. End this torture.”
But for the desolate years that he had dreamed of this, her plea coupled with these two brief fuckings was small recompense. Torture, she called it, torture, she deigned it. She had not one inkling of the meaning. He would show her. He would make her acknowledge him. He’d make her talk to him sweetly. He’d make her linger with him for hours. Before he lifted a finger from her fabulous form, he’d make her sing in mad delight and beg to keep him inside her cunt forever.
So he ran his hands up to her ass cheeks, nuzzled her curly little mound once more, licked her navel and with one swift move, lifted her and flipped her over in the bed. The air left her lungs as she fell face down. She moaned in protest, but he hovered over her, giving her no time to rise, as he scooped her up under her waist, pressed her buttocks to his groin and reached down to invade her cuny once more with determined and demanding fingers.
“You think you know torture? This is it, Elise.” He swirled his fingers over her tight, dew-soaked nub and swept down into her cunt to gather more of her love liquid and bathe her lips and cuny hair with it. “This is what torture is, my countess. To want a fuck. To need a cock. To need one special one, but to have none. To be caressed.” He demonstrated with deft fingerings. “To be rolled and petted into a frenzy and to yearn for the only hand that can give it you. But find no relief.” He pulled his hand away.
“No! Simon!” She panted, trying to grab his retreating hand.
He eluded her.
Instead, he forced her hips back against him while he inserted his cock between her ass cheeks and shifted to get himself up higher near her flowing cunt. Then, as he had her where he wished, he stroked her slit with his long aching member.
But he groaned. The need to have her hot little quim surround him and squeeze him dry made him shudder. The night was long, was it not? And he was just beginning.
But to fuck her face-to-face again when her mind was still so far from him roiled him. And he growled in his own frustration and ran a hand up her back to press her down. He bent and licked the perfect plump ass cheek that rose to greet him, then claimed the other with a wet lashing of his tongue. She gave a small cry and tried to turn. But he wrapped a hand around one thigh, hoisted her higher and with one open palm tapped her slit. The yelp she made died into a cry of delight. Smiling at her joy in his wicked ways of love, he promised himself to spank her harder and longer another time. For now, he sent two fingers inside her cunt to draw forth a thick coating of her white cream. She moaned, thinking probably that he would caress her more there. Instead, he withdrew and drove one finger inside her tiny nether hole. And she froze.
“There is more to a fuck than you’ve learned, my lady.”
(Copyright 2009 Cerise DeLand)

Saturday, November 21, 2009

Musings on turkeys, pirates and what I've learned from my broken wing!

As I relearn how to type with my broken left arm, I will regale you with a few new ideas that have come to me.
NOTE: Some are light, others not. All center on what I will be grateful for next Thursday...but am really thankful for every day.
1. Having only one good arm and hand has given rise to thoughts of those who are physically disabled.
Living close to the US Army's major burn center and rehab unit for amputees here in south Texas, I see out and about many men and women who have given their limbs and risked their lives for us. I often thought the men and women who fought in Vietnam to have been extremely brave--and I saw many of them when my spouse was in the Army and we were stationed in the Orient.
But this new wave of young soldiers seer my heart and mind.
My own disability these past 4 weeks has given me a fresh look at the moment-to-moment choices they must make. How to put that shirt on. How to floss my teeth. (NOT easy!) How to get in and out of the shower, off balance as I am. How to style my hair. Oh,boy, as my buddy Janet Evanovich would say in a Plum novel. I CANNOT lift that hair dryer which I recently bought that weighs, ye, gods, 8 pounds and now feels like 50!
I have even more compassion for these veterans of war and loss and daily challenges. (When we were in the ARmy and abroad, I often had nightmares of being left alone on a battlefield when no one could hear me or come for me, wounded as I was.)
I have even more desire for peaceful solutions to world problems.
We have enough hardships in our day-to-day lives.
2. Turkey. Ah. The bird I hate to wrestle with. But do. Have done.
And now, next Thursday? I am grateful that I...
Yep, MY broken wing means no bird shall sashay into my kitchen!
What will we eat???
Cerise will tell you, my lovely readers who have hungered (I KNOW, I know) for more AFTERNOON DELIGHTS, lo, these past few weeks of my disability.
We will have (with 3 cooks doing the work): (in order of appearance)
Coffee with home made scones. Blueberry. Served with French Quince marmalade and butter.
Then we will meander along, making omelets of cheddar and salmon, green onions and fresh parsley from our herb garden. THIS is accompanied by a tall, tall pitcher of Bloody Marys. I may have one too. My first alcohol in weeks, since I am still on happy pills for the pain.
What next?
Later in the day. Three perhaps. We'll sit down to a crown roast of pork, stuffed with fresh stuffing of thyme and rosemary (from our garden, too!) with porcini mushrooms. Mashed garlic potatoes and a wonderful saute of asparagus with almonds and parmesan.
To go with?
A pinot noir! Hubby loves them from Oregon.
3. My last thought is short and not so sweet. But I did want to register my growing anger at the number of pirates out there of our work. WHO DO THESE PEOPLE THINK THEY ARE?
This is rape. Theft. Criminal activity.
I am appaulled that we authors and artists of other mediums can work so hard only to have idiots splash our works everywhere and take the money.
OFF with their heads!
Down with pirates!
Ciao, bella.
Write to tell us what are you grateful for!!!!

Monday, November 16, 2009

Welcome guest author, V J Devereaux with NIGHT MOVES

Welcome V J Deveraux and her new release, NIGHT MOVES, with this muy caliente cover!
Go over to to purchase this one NOW!
Here is a nibble:
Unlike her last internet date, at least this was a high-class bar. It was dark, as all bars were, but there wasn’t any plastic. The accents were brass, not chrome, and the bar was real wood—soft, warm wood. That was promising. Even better, they had a piano player softly singing old standards as background music, not Muzak or vapid fake jazz.
Raphaela—Rafi to her friends—walked into the room confidently, negligently tossing her chestnut hair over her shoulder, hoping to hide any indication of uncertainty.
She wasn’t intimidated by the luxurious surroundings, or even the circumstances. Not really. Though some considered her job blue collar, that didn’t mean she couldn’t handle herself in these circumstances. She was pretty certain she could handle most situations, certainly in a place like this.
Nor was she uncomfortable with men’s eyes on her. She had gotten used to that about the time she had grown breasts. While she had been something of an early bloomer, she had bloomed very…healthily…as someone had put it. She didn’t have a problem with it. She liked sex a lot more than most, it seemed. But sometimes men forgot that there was a woman attached to the body, a person.
What was worse though was that it sometimes seemed as if one man weren’t enough to satisfy her. She was affectionate by nature and that had become a liability, rather than a bonus. Her love life hadn’t been stellar lately and her choices were a bit limited. Her hours were unpredictable and her job not very glamorous.
Internet dating had helped to narrow down the options, except when people lied. They lied a lot. They posted ten-year-old pictures, took off coke-bottle glasses. How could you start any kind of relationship well when you started it with a lie, a lie that indicated that you didn’t like yourself that much? A few extra pounds did not mean looking as if you were trying to smuggle a basketball under your shirt.
Frankly, she was getting a bit tired of it all but she was lonely and there were days when it would be nice to have someone to come home to. And to play with. She was normal, more or less, and healthy, with a slightly overactive sex drive. She smiled a little at the thought.
Still, what was a girl to do? She wouldn’t meet anyone remotely interesting any other way.
There was the usual assortment of businessmen of various heights and sizes sitting around the bar, one or two who looked intriguing and were probably married. She wouldn’t mind making a little conversation though, if this didn’t work out. Intelligent conversation.
One of her favorite songs was playing as she made her way to the bar, sat and ordered a drink.
Michael watched her walk into the bar, pleased to find that there were no surprises there. She was exactly as advertised, if anything, the picture hadn’t quite done her justice. The camera couldn’t capture that slight air of wry amusement. While she wasn’t classically beautiful, she was lovely, her eyes very pretty, bright and curious. Those pretty eyes were blue, a little stormy, her mouth finely shaped and firm.
She moved in rhythm to the music, her hips swaying, a small smile playing on her lips as she walked to the bar. He liked that too.
Her body?
He sighed in pure pleasure. That was very nice, just shy of hourglass, her breasts high and firm, hips rounded but tight, proportional. The dress was marvelous—fluid silk in a color to match those incredible eyes. It shifted over her body as she walked, the neckline revealing enough of her breasts to entice. Her legs were phenomenal, shapely and well muscled, with a dancer’s taut calves.
According to her online profile, she had eclectic tastes—everything from music to literature. That was important. He liked well-rounded women. He had to be able to talk to them. She liked almost everything he liked—most music but not the kinds he loathed, had read everything from the classics to fantasy and admitted to liking romance novels rather than acting as if she were ashamed of reading them. She seemed fairly open-minded as well as honest. That was also important.
Overall, he liked what he saw. Now, if only he liked what was inside the skin. He watched as she leaned an elbow on the bar to wait.
Michael walked toward the bar as she turned to see him coming.
Now, Rafi thought, that is very nice.
He was tall, a little shy of six feet or thereabouts, with a thick head of wavy black hair that fell nearly to his shoulders. A little long by today’s standards but at least he hadn’t buzzed it all off as so many men did these days. She didn’t want to run her fingers through something that felt like a horsehair sofa or a plush doll, she wanted to run her fingers through hair…and that was hair to run your fingers through.
Then there were his eyes, a brighter blue than her own, beautiful. His mouth was a little full, sensual. His features were aristocratic, his nose slightly aquiline. But that mouth…had she mentioned that she really liked his mouth?
He was undeniably handsome. Then there was his body. She took a breath. He moved loosely, easily, gracefully. That was very promising. Men who moved that well vertically tended to move that well horizontally too. There was a hint of muscle beneath the dress shirt, the suit fitting him beautifully, obviously tailored. She couldn’t help but wonder what he looked like naked. What was hiding underneath that marvelously fitted shirt? She wouldn’t mind running her hands over that crisp material to feel if those muscles were real.
Sex just seemed to pour off him, from the light in his eyes to the way he stood, the way he moved.
A rush of heat went through her. Maybe she’d get the chance to find out. There was a strong resemblance to the picture on the internet. She’d hit the jackpot. He was walking straight toward her.
It seemed that he was her date.
(Copyright 2009, V J Douglas)

Friday, November 13, 2009

A nibble of my new cherry, AT HER SERVICE

AT HER SERVICE is my first erotica in medieval period of 1207, England. Historicals offer an author such a range of issues that aren’t available to a writer in contemporary settings. So I am thrilled to introduce in this book, Simon de la Poer, Knight to King Richard of England and now to his younger irascible brother, King John.
A man renowned for his skill fighting the infidel in the Holy Land with Richard, Simon has also served as a mercenary to the Knights Templar and the Knights of St. John.
Now he is home in England and sent by his sovereign to save a lovely young countess from her childless predicament.
Countess of Atherton, Elise Dumond is married to an old and dying man. The earl cannot give her a child and therefore, cannot save the extensive lands of Atherton from ravenous neighbors. King John approves a risqué plan by the old feeble Earl of Atherton to hire Simon to sire a child with Elise.
Torn by her vows to a man who has not been a sweet or loving husband, Elise fears she will lose not only her soul but also her heart to the man she once knew as a boy and the one she loved above all others.
Needy as both Elise and Simon are to culminate years of longing for each other, they must also contend with those in the castle who would tear them apart with lies…and murder.
Here is a taste of AT HER SERVICE!
Winter, 1207. Cumbria, The Marches, England.
The smoke from the tapers made her guests’ eyes water, and though she brushed a finger under her lashes to rid herself of one tear, Elise Dumond could still see Simon de la Poer at the back of the great hall. God preserve her, she would see him if her eyes were closed. If she were blind. Indeed, if she were dead, she would see him in hell. And, oh, would it not be sweet succour to die and know she would remain in his company forever and end this torture of being parted from him for all these endless years?
She fiddled with the stem of her goblet and drank back more red wine. Then drank again, unnerved by the sight of the man who had taken her in his arms as a youth and put his firm, hot lips to her own with sweet promises of a lifetime of love.
Who had he delighted like that these past twelve years?
Ha! She took another draught.
Who had he not ravished in his bed? In Londontown, the fabled knight Simon de la Poer was reputed to have bedded any woman of noble birth desirous of spreading her legs for him and paying him her weight in gold to compensate him for his services. Elise caught back a sob of jealousy for all those women he’d touched, for all those he had kissed and to whom he’d whispered pretty words of devotion as once he had to her.
She put forth her cup for the maid to refill. The girl scurried over, understanding her mistress was in the mood to drink. Drink myself to distraction. Drink myself to oblivion. Unbidden, her eyes drifted towards the back of the hall, past the tiny man and the tall, dark Oriental who were Simon’s odd companions. Her gaze locked on the man she wished she did not see.
Christ in His Glory, this man was unmistakably the warrior they called Knight Divine. Simon de la Poer, who had earned his moniker attacking the Infidel in Jerusalem with his lord King Richard of England, possessed all the imposing aspects of a man with whom any woman would desire a night in heaven. He had matured to a massive build. Tall as the sconces, broad in the chest as two men, muscular in his black velvet tunic, his grey hose hugging his bulging calves, he seemed Herculean.
She wished she could tear herself away from eating him up with her eyes. Wished she could ignore his quicksilver stare that met her own. Wished she could refuse her husband’s order to offer up her immortal soul to keep what was hers here on earth. Yet she had no choice but to obey her husband and strip herself bare then lie down with her noble lord in their marriage bed tonight—and invite Simon de la Poer to join them.
(copyright 2009, Cerise DeLand)
Available at November 30!

Wednesday, November 11, 2009

Welcome guest, author Teri Thackston!

Howdy, Cerise, and thanks soooo much for inviting me to guest post on your blog. This Texas girl is recently home from an exciting trip to the northeast part of our wonderful country. Pennsylvania and Ohio are gorgeous at this time of year—all the colors and that nip in the air and those winding, hilly roads.

I visited one of my sisters and her husband for a bit in PA, and then she and I hit the road for Richfield, OH to take part in the very first Romanticon. This reader/writer conference was hosted by Jasmine-Jade Enterprises, the mother company for Cerridwen Press and Ellora’s Cave Publishing. Workshops and focus groups, food, friends, and books—and of course the “Cavemen” cover models— were available in abundance. We even danced the night away at a psychedelic sixtie’s party—in bellbottom pants, love beads and miniskirts! This was a truly first-class event that I’m already putting on next year’s calendar.

One particular cause for celebration for me was the news that western romances are still popular among readers. That’s great since my newest book from Cerridwen Press is a western romance. THE SALVATION OF CAPTAIN BEN CHANDLER is the follow-up to my first western romance THE ABDUCTION OF MISS JENNY CHANDLER but it can be read as a stand-alone book. Here’s a quick summary:

“Heading home to Texas after the Civil War, Confederate Captain Ben Chandler catches Clarity Breckenridge stealing the stallion he bought in Kentucky. Clarity says she owns the horse but Ben heard that Clarity is dead. When a killer tries to permanently keep her from proving her identity, Ben whisks her—and her horse—to Texas.

“Ben’s family is dead, his lover is gone and he suffered so many near misses during the war that he just wants to hide back home. When Clarity’s presence threatens to bring him painfully back to life, he resists his growing attraction to her.

“Meanwhile Clarity’s vow to return home and prove her identity is strained by her growing attraction to Ben. But a horrific event in her past makes her afraid she could never fully offer her heart. They have to flee a killer—and their own pasts—to find love and new lives together.”

And here’s a short excerpt:

Clarity didn’t know if she wanted to cry or kick Ben Chandler in his backside. The latter action would certainly ease some of her tension.
As he turned his back on her and went back to covering the dead men with dirt, she looked at his rear and considered it. It made a fine target and it wouldn’t take much for her to lift her foot and swing it.
He leaned down to scoop up another shovelful of dirt and his britches stretched tight over his backside. The heat that burned her face when he’d threatened to gag her had been a simple warm ray of sunlight compared to the inferno that shot through her now. She’d never known a man’s backside to be such a compelling sight. Why, the way he stood, she could see the outline of almost every muscle and—
Whipping around, she clutched her injured wrist against her stomach and strode away from the gravesite. “Wicked thoughts, Clarity,” she muttered. “Wicked, wicked thoughts.”
Reaching the spot where the Rebel had piled the belongings of the dead men, she knelt to study them. Her tailbone protested as she did so and she found herself longing for a warm bath in which to soak her aches away. But she probably wouldn’t see a warm bath for a long time yet.
Reaching out with her uninjured hand, she picked up one of the wallets and opened it. To her surprise it was filled with crisp Union currency in large denominations. She counted it quickly.
“Oh my.” She turned toward Ben Chandler. “One of those men was carrying more than a thousand dollars.”
He dropped a last shovelful of dirt over the grave and then turned in her direction. “Did he carry any identification?”
She looked back inside the wallet and found several sheets of paper. Drawing them out, she unfolded them. “These look like letters. Addressed to ‘Brother Samuel’.” She turned over the first letter. “This one is signed ‘Seth’.”
“Is there an envelope?” Carrying the shovel, Ben started toward her. She noticed that he was limping again.
“You’re hurt,” she said.
He walked past her to his horse and opened one of his saddlebags. “Is there an envelope?” he repeated, his voice tight.
She looked inside the wallet again and found an envelope. Drawing it out, she looked at it. “Yes. And it’s addressed to Samuel Lott with the Seventeenth Kentucky Regiment Infantry. One of those men must be Samuel Lott.”
“Good. Now we know who to return the money to.”
Something seemed to fill her throat for it became a little difficult to breathe. She watched Ben as he limped toward her with a battered cotton haversack hanging from one hand.
“You’re going to return these things to their families?” she asked, eyeing the empty sack.
“What else would I do with them?” He held out the sack. “Put everything in there.”
Clarity smiled as she took the sack and put the wallet and the letters inside it. “You see, Mr. Chandler? I was right about you. Only a good man would do something like that. You could easily have put this money in your own pocket and just ridden away.”
Ben released what sounded like a breath of frustration. “Hurry up.”
She scooped up another wallet, some loose currency and a couple of pocket watches and pushed them into the sack. She started to hand the bundle to him but then drew it back against her chest.
Ben cocked his head to one side. A rather unpleasant smile curled one side of his mouth. “Only a good man would return those things to their families, Miss Breckenridge. You said it yourself.”
She got stiffly to her feet, still clutching the sack to her chest. Ben Chandler had saved her life but, honestly, she didn’t know that he was the good man she suspected him of being. Maybe he’d agreed to bury them just so he could get his hands on their valuables. She didn’t want to believe that of him but how could she be sure?
“But a thief would take those things and that money and run with them.” Ben advanced toward her as she backed away. “Some men might figure they’d earned that money by saving a young woman’s life.”
She stopped backing up and he stopped advancing. For several moments they stood in the road, surrounded by horses, watching each other. Shame brushed through her as she debated whether or not she could trust her rescuer with the possessions of the dead men.
Finally, he stopped smiling, turned and walked to his horse. Mounting, he walked the mare close to Sir Robin, reached down and picked up the end of the rope that hung from the stallion’s neck. He turned to look back at Clarity and then, tipping a finger to the brim of his hat, he rode away.
Stunned, Clarity watched him trot down the road with her stallion trailing behind. Determination gripped her and she walked to the dappled mare. Looping the drawstring of the haversack over the pommel, she mounted with one-handed difficulty and then set out after the man who she wasn’t quite sure she could trust.

Thanks again, Cerise, for inviting me to your blog. Happy autumn, everyone!

Book Length: Plus Novel
Book Type: Ebook
Publisher: Cerridwen Press
ISBN: 9781419921544

Wednesday, November 4, 2009


Dear friends,
Yep. I flew too high to the sun 2 wks ago Wednesday--and broke my left arm & sprained my left ankle!!
Because one is never enough!
And 2 seems so much more exciting!
I am a good patient, if not patient, at all!
I promise to return soon.
One thing being disabled does do is require you to feed your mind with that towering TO BE READ pile! I HAVE HAD A DELICIOUS TIME READING my buddies' works!
Back soon with AFTERNOON DELIGHTS. (Saw RACHEL RAY use one of my recipes on her show today!!!!!!!!! HUMPF!)
Also do admire my updated cover for first in my new SWORDS OF PASSION medieval erotica series AT HER SERVICE to debut Nov. 30 at!
Video coming soon!

Saturday, October 17, 2009

PARIS EXPOSE up for Book of the Week!

Hubba, hubba! Over at Whipped Cream, they have nominated PARIS EXPOSE for best of the week!

Thursday, October 15, 2009


As you think of slipping into something more comfortable for your afternoon delight, I want to offer to you today a few thoughts on the season.
Here in south Texas, days are getting cooler. Although 80s to some is still hot hot hot, I want to offer to you today a few ideas to make it hot hot hot inside to accompany
Might I suggest a few great pairings?
Smoked salmon, sliced thin nigh unto transparency. With scotch. The best you can buy. Served neat. Straight up. One or two fingers. That's for the depth of the pouring, not...other things.
Serve that with toasted French bread slices, olive oil drizzled on top before toasting.
Perhaps add an offering of fresh goat cheese, room temperature so that the creamy texture just flows over the toast and makes a luscious coating, should you care to top it with the salmon. Or just eat your salmon from each other's fingertips.
The fragrance to go with this?
Might I suggest rosemary, thyme or a winter citrus? As candles, room scent or scent for your drier and your linens, these add a bit of the autumn to your repast and your interlude.
Ciao, bella!
(copyright Cerise Deland, 2009)

Wednesday, October 14, 2009

4 1/2 Cherries for PARIS EXPOSE

I am delighted that the reviewer over at WHIPPED CREAM gave my PARIS EXPOSE 4.5 cherries!
Cherries for Cerise!
What a concept!
She said: "...bring a fan, and plenty of ice water, you’ll need it."
Hope you have a chance to go over to and take a bite out of Paris. My last trip there was April 1, 2008 and oh, did I love it. What's NOT to, eh, cherie?
The places in the tale are ones I visited...and adored. So I thought, what better way to share them than to write about them as a tale of love?
Want to read the entire review? Go to:\sure-by.html
Enjoy the story, too!
Know, too, that over at YOU GOTTA READ REVIEWS, that reviewer began her post with this about PARIS EXPOSE: "Wow…let me say that again, WOW!!"
And at romance Junkies, they said: "Cerise DeLand takes readers on an erotic Parisian adventure with a sexy Frenchman and believe me escargot, wine and the Eifel Tower have absolutely nothing to do with the sort of antics these two enjoy. Deanne and Andre share similar interests and complement each other beautifully so it’s great fun to envision the scenes – sexual and otherwise – between them. Ms. DeLand’s characters are charmingly realistic and their encounters are definitely memorable, add in the romantic Paris aura and you have a sizzling read sure to sweep you away from reality for a little while."
What are you doing next April?

Saturday, October 10, 2009

Proof that Nectar of love is good for you

Bella, hurry to your local wine store and indulge yourself in reds.
I just read in the latest issue of Wine Spectator magazine that women who drink 2 glasses of red each day experience more satisfaction with their sexual lives.
What's more, this is the conclusion of an official study by the University of Florence. Now, what could be more affirmative and encouraging than to know that academics find proof that moderate amounts of wine aid your sexual health?
Those marvelous Italians concluded too, that among those in the study, older women had higher satisfaction rates than younger. Proving, of course, that you are never to old know. AND also proving, as if we did not know, that older women make beautiful lovers.
What's your favorite red?
At home as the days turn to autumn and temperatures decline (ah, yes, it is south Texas, dear ones, so OUR decline hovers in the area of seventies, but still....), we are drinking Torres family vineyards, Sangre de Torro. Blood of the Bull. Smooth, rich. Great with steak. Or last night, meatloaf! Yes, comfort food.
We've also recently had one of our faves, pinot noir. Label? Almost anything from Oregon.
None of them is very pricey.
Ciao, bella.
Here's to your sexual health!

Tuesday, September 29, 2009

Welcome guest author Adele Dubois!

DESERT NECTAR by Adele Dubois
Line: Twilight
Book Length: 220 pages
Book Type: Trade Paperback
Publisher: Ellora's Cave Publishing
ISBN: 9781419959691


“The erotic moments are incredibly well-written. An all-around great read.” ~ Reader Views

Sonny Wild Horse of the Tohono O’odham Nation is a danger to a woman’s heart. Though he lusts after Caitlyn Spencer, his desire to live inside two conflicting worlds—the Sonoran Desert of his youth and the California coast where his future as a photographer is assured—tears the lovers apart.

When Sonny disappears inside America’s most hostile desert, Caitlyn borrows a unique Thunderbird convertible and embarks on a desperate search. The car is equipped with a powerful but endearingly kinky GPS navigator that grants wishes. Though not exactly a genie, “Guy’s” system locates whatever his driver needs most.
And Caitlyn needs to connect erotically with Sonny. Again and again. If only she can find him in time.


“Exceedingly erotic and beautifully written” ~ The Romance Studio

On her forty-sixth birthday, Marybeth buys a red convertible, equipped with the latest GPS navigation technology, and runs away from her painful divorce. At the mouth of the Mojave Desert she finds sexy, thirty-year-old USMC veteran Jake stranded with his disabled motorcycle, and gives him a lift to Nevada.

What Marybeth doesn’t know is that her GPS navigator has led her straight to the man she wished for to heal her broken heart. Though the GPS is not exactly a genie, his system grants him the power to locate whatever Marybeth needs most. What she wants is revenge, laced with a hot, studly young lover. GPS takes wishing upon a star to a new and very real technological level, as he makes Marybeth’s wildest, most sultry dreams come true.
Adele Dubois is a former journalist who writes erotic romances that receive consistent outstanding reviews. Titles include DESERT NECTAR, DESERT WILD, DESERT FEVER, INTIMATE ART and DREAM TRAVELER. REV ME UP coming soon! Please visit Adele on her website at

Friday, September 25, 2009

Feast your eyes on Fran's trailer for her newest


Good morning, Cerise! Thanks for inviting me to be your guest Blogger today. Today is very special to me because my newest book has just been released from Ellora’s Cave!
This is my fourth book, and is titled Her Own Set of Rules.
You know, when my first book (Out of Her Dreams) was released a few months ago, I was a nervous wreck. I had promoted the book for over three months before it was released. I taught myself how to create book trailers, and I started several blogs and websites on every known social system I could find. It was quite a learning experience for me. Then came the “big day”. I waited tensely for the reviews to come in. He think I nearly got an ulcer…but then came the reviews…marvelous reviews! I took a few deep breaths, and got ready to start all over again.

When my second book was released in July (Hallie’s Cats),
I did the same thing, getting my trailer(s) out there…chatting up the book and worrying myself into a tizzy about how well it would sell, and so on. LOL! The big day came again. Another terrifying wait for reviews. A not-so-great first review. Not bad, but definitely not great. A fan wrote to tell me how disappointed she was that I hadn’t written another great book like Out of Her Dreams. I swallowed and tried to shake it off, but couldn’t quite do that. But subsequent reviews began to trickle in, and they were far better…much better than the first one. It appeared that fans loved OOHD so much, they expected the next one to be exactly like it. But Hallie’s Cats has picked up its own share of fans, too. And I bit the bullet and started all over again.

My third book, from a different publisher (Dictated by Fate), was released in August by Resplendence Publishing. I found myself running through the same steps, doing the blogging, the trailers uploaded to YouTube and Blazing Trailers …and putting excerpts and blurbs on every Yahoo Group created. And again I waited. The first review was marvelous…

You see…writing is a series of things. First, you write that great book. (At least, you hope it’s great) and then you promo the heck out of it so that people know it’s coming…so that they will be waiting eagerly for it. And then you can do nothing but sit back and watch…and wait…and keep on promoting, hoping that enough folks will buy it to make it worth the thousands of hours of time you have put into it. Praying that the pirate sites don’t start giving your work away before you even see a penny of profit.
And now I am sitting here staring at the walls, wondering if all that promo actually worked, or if I was just spinning my wheels.
I have heard from many experienced authors that once your e-book is off the new releases page, and hidden in the dense jungle of “back-list” books, it will never surface again, and so you must constantly be writing new books so that readers will look at your back list and perhaps purchase.

Unlike print books, e-books don’t sit on a shelf in plain view at your local bookseller, inviting the reader to pick them up and read the back cover. And the far smaller E-publishers do not routinely spend millions of dollars promoting authors and books, like the big New York Houses do, as they work feverishly to get another best seller. It is mostly up to the author to do the promo work after the big release day.

I have created websites for each of these books, and I invite readers to check them out. On each website I have added the wonderful reviews each book has received, plus the cover and blurb and a hot excerpt. Readers can browse to their hearts’ content, and they can even purchase the book from the website. One-stop shopping, and all that! LOL!

Now, I did bring along a blurb and excerpt from Her Own Set of Rules, plus the video I created for it. But I would love it if you would also take a look at my prior releases…just to humor me? Thanks so much!

Her Own Set of Rules

Although deeply in love with her husband of ten years, Haley is yearning for the deep sexual satisfaction that Harry just isn't giving her. Her dearest friend suggests she have an affair. But not just with any man...with Krissa's younger brother, who has had a crush on Haley since they were kids. Krissa wants her little brother happy. And she wants her best friend happy.

Nervous, but desperate to try anything that will make her feel like she is alive again, Haley agrees to meet Josh. The last time she saw him, he was just 16, tall and gangly...and on the brink of delicious manhood. Haley once had a mad crush on him, too…but he was three years younger, and peer pressure is hell.

Josh has always been crazy for Haley. She's married...but getting around an inattentive husband is not the hardest thing to do. Josh wants another shot at the delicious girl he fell in love with so long ago. At 26, he isn’t gangly anymore. He’s a man who can give Haley what he wanted to give her back then, but was too young to offer. His gain…Harry’s loss.

Except Harry isn’t giving up on Haley…he wants the hidden temptress that lurks inside his unresponsive, seemingly frigid wife…and when she seems to suddenly bloom into what he wants, he is so thrilled he couldn’t care less if it was another man who awakened her. He has the woman he married back, and he isn’t about to give her up!

Haley decided not to see Josh again, but he won’t take no for an answer. Desperate, he calls her at home, and Harry takes the call. Now Haley has a major dilemma…Josh wants her…and Harry wants her…and she wants them both. What’s a girl to do? Keep both? But how?


Josh dropped his gym bag with a thump and reached for her. Krissa wrapped her arms enthusiastically around her little brother as he swung her off her feet then set her back down on the doorstep. “I missed you, Krissie! When’s supper?”

He was always hungry. Had something to do with the size of him, he figured. Standing six foot six inches, and weighing in at a clean, lean two hundred and fifty pounds, he had a hard body because he worked hard for a living. He grinned down at his sister and laughed as she swatted at his hands and flushed prettily.

God, how he had always loved to watch Krissa and Haley giggle like that and put their pretty blonde heads together, thinking he couldn’t hear them if they whispered. Shit, he’d heard every damn word. But he never let on. He learned too much information to want to tip them off to the fact his hearing was excellent, even across the room.

“Haley here yet?” he asked casually, and Krissa grinned up at him conspiratorially.

“Be patient! You know I had to damn near threaten to break off our friendship if she didn’t agree to come. You know Haley…she’ll be here if she promised.”

He’d switched jobs to come back to Spring City and be closer to family"and Haley Grant. No, Haley Gregory now. But what the fuck? Getting around a husband wasn’t the hardest thing he’d ever done. And from what Krissa had told him, Harry Gregory was a fairly inattentive husband. So much the better for him. He’d waited twelve years for a piece of Haley, and a husband wasn’t about to stand in his way now. He’d fallen hard for her when he was a gangly ninth grader and she was the Junior Prom Queen.

He had wanted her from the day she flashed her hot little breasts at him. He’d only been fourteen, but when he’d seen those delightful morsels bared for his delectation, and her fingers pinching them to tease him, he’d decided she wouldn’t be averse to letting him touch them. If she hadn’t hooked up with Harry Gregory, and if Harry hadn’t been so fucking possessive of her, Josh would definitely have sampled those nipples.

Over the twelve years that had passed since she’d dared him to taste her, he’d savored that memory. He had compared those lush, youthful breasts to every other set he’d tasted and licked, and all the rest had faded from his thoughts once he’d enjoyed them. Oh, he loved fucking and sucking. He’d gotten damn good at it over the years. But it had all been practice…practice for the next time she bared those amazing round globes to him…and he planned to see them again"soon.

As Krissa led him into the kitchen, he waved at Jim, who’d poked his head out of the living room and yelled a welcome. Talking with Krissie and Jim was appealing, but right now, food was his objective. Food then a hot shower. Krissie had invited Haley over tonight, and he wanted to be clean and sweet-smelling for her. Oh yeah. For what he planned with Haley tonight, he wanted to be sweet and clean all over.

Josh had always had it bad for her. But Harold Gregory was the jock-stud-prom-king dude who had stolen her away after graduation before anyone less almighty got a shot at her. And Haley wasn’t one to take on some gangly kid three years behind her in school and dump Mr. Hotstuff.

When Haley had married after graduation, Josh hadn’t gone to her wedding, even though he’d been included in the invitation. He’d spent that whole day walking by the stream that bordered the pasture a couple of miles from his house. He’d walked there with Krissa and Haley many times. He’d imagined her smiling up into his face, tucking her slim arm around his waist as he bent to catch those lush lips in a hungry kiss. He’d gone home and jacked off pathetically as he thought of that prick Harry Gregory taking her to bed when it should have been him, Josh Barnes, in that bed with her, fucking her blind.

Josh Barnes had been a gangly, awkward and fairly shy kid back then. And that wasn’t what a girl like Haley wanted. But he wasn’t a gangly kid anymore, and he’d had enough experience with women to know that what he had to offer was not something a woman would stick her nose up at. Oh yeah. He had big plans for tonight.
* * * * *
Haley was nervous. She checked her hair and her makeup three times before sliding out of her car and making her way to the wooden front porch of Krissa and Jim’s home. Hesitantly, she climbed the three steps to the front porch and pressed the doorbell button.

She almost lost her nerve, and was debating on making a run for it when the door swung open, and she found Joshua Barnes standing there.

Filling the whole damn doorway.

Her eyes must have shown her shock, because his crookedly sexy smile was enough to blow her away. “Hi! Um, is Krissa here?” Her voice sounded breathless even to her. My God! She was acting like a teenybopper on her first blind date.

She almost lost her courage as he stood aside to allow her to step inside the house. He was so tall. And so gorgeous. Oh…my…God! He was all prime, succulent male. Leaning in slightly as she scooted past him, she couldn’t hide her telltale blush as she didn’t quite manage to keep her breast from brushing his chest. She heard the quick inhalation of his breath and knew he wasn’t immune to her, either.

Her nipple tingled as if she’d leaned into an electric wire fence. Fighting down her glandular reaction to his appearance and his proximity, she stepped into the familiar foyer, and wrapped her arms around her body as if that might insulate her from his potent presence. The experimental contact told her what she had wanted to know"he was very much aware of her sexually. What she hadn’t counted on was her own reaction to the little brush of tight nipple to hard, delicious male muscle! Holy shit. Was she nuts to be here? Had she been kidding herself? Deluding herself that all she wanted was to regain an old acquaintance with the neighbor’s kid?

Haley bit the corner of her lip as she turned to face him in the tight confines of the tiny foyer, waiting for Josh to make the next tentative move. He moved slowly, and she watched as he closed the door, and shot the lock home.

Thanks again for inviting mew, Cerise! Here are the URLs to my book websites…
Out of Her Dreams:
Hallie’s Cats:
Dictated by Fate:
Fran Lee’s Romance Website:

More of Fran's scintillating fiction!

And another FRAN LEE! Paranormal, anyone?

Fran's Other Great Works you must READ!

Thursday, September 24, 2009


PLUG for my newly released HER THREE-WAY MERGER! A menage you need to read!
There, I did it, again!
On to the goodies for your luscious love in the afternoon, si?
Today, we do something to warm you, in addition to your Delight's ingenuity:
Gnocchi with tomatoes and garlic. With a Pinot Gris to bring out the richness of the flavors.
Yes, bella. We must cook today, but I promise you the prep is a quickie. Unlike your interlude, si, we KNOW, which lingers and stimulates.
Yes, well. Back to this business. What do you need at the store?
An Italian Pinot Gris. A good one will begin at approximately $15, and oh so worth it.
You want a box of imported gnocchi. Si, from Italia.
Butter. 2-3 cloves of garlic. (You don't want to overpower the fresh fleshy taste of the potato in these little balls.) And one large tomato.
Before your DELIGHT arrives, boil the gnocchi according to directions. Strain and reserve in a heat-retention serving dish. (Corningware is good! Have aluminuum foil ready to cover this, if you don't have a top for that dish.) Then in a small saute pan, saute in 1T. butter, your garlic until transparent and then add the diced tomato, juice and all! Mix with the gnocchi and keep it warm in low oven until your Delight arrives...and the festivities begin!
Another tiny meal that completes your affaire--and complements your nutrition.
Ciao, bella! Enjoy!
I am off to a family wedding and will not see you until Oct. 8 with another AFTERNOON DELIGHT, but soooooo many of my buddies are coming over to guest blog!
FRAN LEE this Friday and ADELE DUBOIS next Tuesday!
(copyright 2009, Cerise DeLand)

Sunday, September 20, 2009

Another bite of my new cherry, HER THREE-WAY MERGER

Sienna undulated before Cord, her hands cupping the undersides of her breasts and swirling to some soft music in her head. She closed her eyes and shimmied so her breasts bobbed.
He groaned. “Sienna.”
“Shh,” she told him and began to croon a love song she knew asked something about “how long has this been going on?” And as she danced, she thumbed her tender nipples, pointed them toward him and then lifted each in turn to her mouth. Letting her tongue dart out, she titillated the tip of one, then went for the other.
“Sienna, honey.” Cord crawled to the end of the bed like a lion, his cock and balls dangling as he reached for her.
She eluded him. “No, no, sweetie. My show.” And she stood before him, her hands wending their way down her ribs to her waist and tangling in her wet pussy hair, pulling wide her slick labia, spreading her thighs and letting him see her hungry little kitty.
He cursed as she found her own clit.
Fingers of steel clamped around her wrist. “I,” Cord growled, “own this cat.” (Copyright 2009, Cerise DeLand)
Now don’t you need a bigger taste????

Thursday, September 17, 2009


Liquor is liquor, right?
OH, very wrong.
Here is my recipe for the best MARGARITAS you will ever make--and I'm dubbing them, HER THREE-WAY MERGER margaritas because that is what Tate Ryder makes for Sienna Galvan and his brother, Cord in my newest from EC!
First, you need GREAT tequila, baby. Herradura Silver.
Cointreau. OR Grand Marnier.
Limes. Salt. Wide-rimmed Margarita glasses. Lime Juice, bottled.
Salt the rims of your glasses. Refrigerate them!
Then in a shaker, with cracked or shaved ice--or none, blend for each person:
1 oz. tequila
1 oz. EITHER Cointreau or Grand Marnier
1/2 oz. lime juice
Shake. Either serve with the ice or strain it, if you prefer without.
SIP this drink! Strong and luscious, this drink is for the courageous!
And what to serve with these for your AFTERNOON DELIGHT? Something substantive, or you won't remember the joys of the day.
Chili is good. Easy to make early AND it is nutritous.
THAT recipe comes next week!
Did I tantalize you?
Hope so.
Go read HER THREE-WAY MERGER to see what happens when the three drink these babies! The Quickie comes out Friday at
CIAO, bella! (Copyright 2009, Cerise DeLand)

Sunday, September 13, 2009

Just got my newest cover for my Nov. 30 cherry

I am stunned. This is my new cover for my medieval to be released Nov. 30 from Total-E-Bound!
He is scrumptious, tormented and a delicious lover! Of course, he has marvelous taste, don't you think, with the strand of pearls he bought from a caravan when he served as a knight with King Richard in the Holy Land?
More to come on Simon de la Poer, the man the English call Knight Divine, starring in the first in my Swords of Passion series, debuting with AT HER SERVICE November 30!
And next Friday, hope you are going to indulge in HER THREE-WAY MERGER, a menage from (EC)!!!!

Thursday, September 10, 2009


Bon Jour, Cherie!
Today, we cook a bit!
What? Crab Cakes. Baltimore style!
I grew up in Balamer, east side and west, and there are no crab cakes like those made there! (In fact, the other day, I said to my best beau, let's hop a flight to BWI, go to OBRYCKI's Crab House, order a dozen steamed crabs, eat and fly home!)
AH, fantasy is good for the soul! Alas, here is my more prudent answer:
Buy 1 lb of lump crab. ADD: 1 egg, beaten, 1 cup of plain bread crumbs, 1 t. flour, 1/2 t. to 1 T. of OLD BAY seasoning, 1/2 t. Worcestershire, and fresh parsley, if you like!
Pat into 8 mini-cakes and fry to a golden brown in butter.
Hot or cold, served between Ritz crackers and on the side, with cole slaw, these babies will thrill your AFTERNOON DELIGHT. And after you feed each other, do lick the tiny bits of crab from each other's fingers.
Serve, as they do in Charm City (wow, it was never called THAT when I was a kid!), with cold, cold beer! (copyright 2009 Cerise DeLand)
CIAO, Bella!

Thursday, September 3, 2009

Tuesday, September 1, 2009

WELCOME to author KATE HILL & her new release!

Kate Hill is a Romantic Time Machine! Welcome, Kate!
Historical romance has always been a genre I've enjoyed. The first real romance novel I ever read was a medieval historical and it hooked me on romance in general.

In a way, historical romance is like a time machine that lets you experience the excitement of the past laced with the fantasy of true love. As a reader I enjoy being drawn out of the present day and into the word of Vikings, gladiators, pharaohs, knights and the many other settings sprinkled throughout our past. As a writer I love learning about history through research. Some time periods I especially enjoy, such as the Viking age, ancient Rome and the American Revolution.

If you love historicals, too, what draws you to them and which time periods do you enjoy most?

Kate Hill is a vegetarian New Englander who loves writing romantic fantasies. When she's not working on her books, she enjoys reading, exercising, and researching vampires and Viking history. Visit her online at

Her new release? NORTHMAN’S PASSION by Kate Hill From Ellora's Cave

Erik Ice Tooth is used to getting what he wants. Undefeated in battle, no man is his match and no woman resists him, until he meets Bera, daughter of his King.

Disgusted by the hulking brute who asks for her hand in marriage, Bera adamantly refuses him, but Erik is determined to have his way. He abducts Bera, vowing to prove to her that theirs is a match made by the gods. He has many lusty tricks in store for the unsuspecting Bera. Will she be able to resist this sexy warrior?

To read PLEASURABLE PUNISHMENT, a free short story related to Northman's Passion, visit

Saturday, August 29, 2009

New menage! HER THREE-WAY MERGER from EC

Sept. 18 my yummy menage debuts from EC, HER THREE-WAY MERGER!
Sexy exec Sienna Galvan never mixes business with pleasure until she calls a meeting with the two hunky football stars who used to be her next door neighbors and her teenage fantasies. But Cord and Tate Ryder take one look at how sweet little Sienna has grown in to an irresistibly luscious lady and they make her an offer she can’t refuse--three-way negotiations on their sofa, their yacht--and their bed. Thrilling to their risqué explorations of her body, she revels in having them both at her command, together and separately. But when they drive a harder bargain than she imagined, she must find a way to do what’s right for her business and what’s best for her heart.
Here is a nibble for you: (copyright 2009, Cerise DeLand)
Tate sauntered forward with three large green-tinted glasses, trimmed in salt and limes. He handed her one, another to Cord. “Our best white tequila, baby. Straight from Mexico, by boat. Ours. We’ll take you out later.”
“Oh, I don’t think I should.”
“Don’t think.” Cord gave her a little hug and her nipples pebbled, yearning to be played with. “Let’s enjoy the reunion.”
Can we do that in a bed? Sienna gulped at her raw desire while her traitorous pussy pulsed. “Sure.”
“To the three of us.” Tate led them all to raise their drinks in a toast. His gaze drifted down from her mouth to her pointed breasts and her bare legs, then checked Cord’s eyes and nodded to him. Finally, he winked at Sienna. “Long overdue to have you here, baby.”
She shifted at the very idea that she could have them. Have them both. Now. Here. After all these years of wanting and needing their bodies inside hers. Envying other girls who had. No!
She trembled and sat straighter. She was not going to be had here. She was going to buy their land, cut their check, get their signatures on the deed and get back on the road to Houston. And sanity.
“Thanks,” she managed, lifted her glass and took a long, welcome drink. She let the cool liquor slide down her throat and closed her eyes. She had to cool off here before she melted from desire. She took another sip, licked the salt from the rim and let her tongue whisk it from her lower lip. But when she looked up, both men watched her every move.
Tate crouched down in front of her, putting his drink to one side and wrapping his cool fingers around her ankles. Then she noted how a huge bulge peaked his trousers.
She wriggled beside Cord, who placed his drink on the side table.
“How was the drive down from Houston?” Cord asked, two of his fingers now making patterns on her shoulder.
She clenched her thighs together to please her demanding pussy. Damn, what did she have to do here for relief? Excuse herself and go tickle her clit in the bathroom?
“Hey, honey?” Cord flowed closer, his fingers trailing down her shoulder toward one of her breasts. “The drive here?” His kiss-me blue eyes smiled down into hers. “From Houston?”
“Right. The ride.” She blinked. “I loved it. It’s about time they finished that piece of highway. I needed some time to think about this reunion.” She let her eyes dance from Tate’s into Cord’s.
His sashayed down her throat to her breasts where her nipples were now standing tall, hard as rocks, dying to come out for a romp. “Why’s that, honey? Surely you know how you have changed from the chubby whiz kid who tutored us in math.”
“Calculus and algebra,” she corrected him in a rush to douse the raging need for him between her swelling labia.
“Whatever.” Cord grinned so broadly that his dimple appeared and he flowed closer. Now with his chest flush to her side, she felt her skin prickle with a sheen of desire. “We never forgot you.”
“Wow.” She whispered as his endearment made her press her knees together in another pitiful attempt at self-denial. But her nipples were so needy now they abraded her lacy bra. She squirmed in her seat, as more thick cream soaked her thong. “Wonderful to know.”
Cord’s lambent gaze darkened to a stormy blue. “Did you ever forget us?”
“No, how could I?” How could I stop dreaming of having you both? Even one was too much to hope for! But she smiled broadly, instructing herself to be coy, cool, play their game. Play them off. Get what she wanted."

Thursday, August 27, 2009

AFTERNOON DELIGHT #12 -- A taste of the Orient today!

How about a quick, refreshing nibble that is Chinese?
The day before go to the store and buy 2 chicken breasts (boneless & skinless), rice vinegar, sesame oil, scallions, 1 green pepper, 1 lime, cilantro and your favorite wraps. (For this, I like the ones that are flavored with garlic and green onions.)I hope you have soy sauce at home. If not, buy that, too.
Do add to your grocery cart, your favorite Chinese or Japanese beer. Yes, beer. Bubbly joy for the afternoon!
The night before, slice the chicken into long strips, then marinate them in 2 T. of rice vinegar, 1 T. of sesame oil, and the juice of the lime. Add black pepper and just a light dust of salt.
The next morning, as you wash your sheets and other linens in sea grass-scented fragrances, broil the chicken to a luscious brown. Cool.
Slice your green pepper in long lovely strips, and cut your scallions on the long bias. Yes, this is different, and it gives the impression of lovely lithe grasses blowing in the wind! Toss those together in a dusting of soy sauce and cilantro leaves you have plucked from the stems with your own fingertips! Warm the wraps if you wish before your Delight arrives.
Arrange all on a huge serving plate. Add o-hashi, or chopsticks to enable you to assemble your scrumptious repast.
Serve with cold beer, warm wet hand towels (like they do after a meal in the Orient) and a warm and loving heart!
Thank you. Or as the Chinese say, Shia, shia. Or the Japanese, Domo arigato!
Oishi des, ne? (Delicious, yes?)
(copyright 2009, Cerise DeLand)

Thursday, August 20, 2009


A different twist today begins with a brunch menu. Surely, you could use it for the afternoon, or an early evening affaire. But...let me begin.
First, have you tried any of the new body lotions that include the scents of cucumber, melon or watermelon? Oh, do try one for this repast! They smell delish AND they are very light and elusive. Just what you want to go with this lovely little, but hearty brunch menu.
What do you need?
One yellow onion, two gold potatoes, 3 eggs, butter and finally, a clove of garlic and a bit of parsely, only if you wish!
Slice the potatoes very thinly. If you have a slicer, do use it, bella. Slice your onion very thinly, too. Heat an omelete pan on medium for a minute. Melt 1 T. of butter. (Yes, I am devoted to high quality and low quantities of fats.) Quickly add your onion--and if you wish to add your diced garlic, do so after your onion has given up its divine aromas and begun to brown.
Add in your potatoes and cook to tender. This can take 5-10 minutes, and the thinner your potatoes, the faster this is done.
Add in 3 beaten eggs. Then the dust of chopped parsley, if you like. Flip when you have an egg mixture that is binding all together. And what do you have?
A lovely dish, that is part omelet, part potato and onion cake. In Spain, this is a morning dish or a light luncheon.
Open a bottle of spritely white cava, serve with fresh strawberries and you have the makings of a scrumptious afternoon.
Ciao, bella! Enjoy!

Thursday, August 13, 2009


Ready for another luscious, but good-for-you-and-your-Delight treat?
Today, we are going Middle Eastern.
With a good bottle of wine from Greece (Santorini) or Israel (the Golan Heights), let's try this accompaniement:
Buy a fresh goat cheese, 3-5 oz. Do check the pull date for the freshest on the shelf. Buy one produced locally if you wish, but one from abroad will be more authentic, don't you think? These come with chives, garlic, and so on, but plain is lovely, too.
Buy fresh pita bread. Six pita is more than enough for two!
Then purchase a container of Greek organic yogurt. My container the other day weighed 5.3 oz and was a thick, creamy blend that had just a bit of tang to it.
What to add? Ah.
Buy one cucumber. Then minutes before your Delight arrives, peel it, then halve it, scrape out the seeds if you must, but I leave them in for texture. Then quarter the halves and slice into chunks. Add to your yogurt, along with chopped cilantro. (Yes, you may use a knife on the herbs for this dish, bella, because you will not be giving them too long exposed to the air to brown those lovely curly edges!) Add a dash of cayenne, celery salt and garlic salt.
Serve your pita whole. In the Middle East, they are served whole so that diners can break them apart with their hands. Very sensual then, to be able to feed each other, eh? Put out your feta, cube it if you wish, and serve with toothpicks. Then, put out your cucumber yogurt. All for dipping into with the bread!
White wine from Santorini, chilled overnight, or red from the Golan is superb with this light little repast!
For your air scent, try a verbena. Or some are now made with cucumber scent!!!
(copyright 2009, Cerise DeLand)

Thursday, August 6, 2009


The most delightful part of our garden is our herbs. We grow only a few--basil, parsley and cilantro. But wow, do they go into a lot of what we create.
And worry not, bella, because if you like them, too, these herbs are inexpensive to buy in the store.
Today, we make a nice little repast, gloriously lead by basil, parsley, garlic and good Italian olive oil.
What is it?
Why, your own pesto!
In a blender (in order of appearance here), stack 1 cup loosely packed basil leaves. Tear them off the stem, cara. Same with 1 cup of parsley. Add in 1/2 c. of olive oil. 2 large cloves of chopped garlic. And 1/3 c. freshly grated parmesan. (Add pine nuts if you like, but they are expensive and I tend to skip them.) Blend! Pour into a glass jar, freshly washed, and then refrigerate.
For your afternoon delight, buy a good bottle of valpolicella, a red from the eastern areas near Venice. Also, buy a few Italian salumes like hard salami, cotto and if you like prosciutto, all sliced very thinly.
Then buy a package of cherry tomatoes, good mozzarella in a chunk. Cut up the cheese into cubes. Alternate a tomato with a piece of cheese. Add green and yellow or orange pepper slices for drama. Arrange on a plate and serve atop a light dusting of fresh greens, toothpick edge fanned out so that you can pick them up easily. Drizzle all with your fresh pesto. (Use the rest of your pesto as a base for your own salad dressing, and for a rich addition to chicken dishes, close to the end of cooking so that you do not brown the herbs!)
Serve with your red wine and selection of sliced salumes.
Be sure to save your greens--and toss with a full salad later.
But for your air today, buy a candle of lime or lemon. The aroma is fresh and will complement the strong flavors of your pesto.
CIAO, my darlings! Until next Thursday, be well, eat heartily and live long!
(copyright 2009, Cerise DeLand)

Thursday, July 30, 2009


Getting hotter out there, bella.
Today, only a few minutes of cooking for you and your Delight!
In fact, go early to the grocery store where they offer fresh fish. Have them steam one pound of fresh shrimp (not previously frozen!) with a hearty, hearty coating of OLD BAY. Tell them you want them hot hot hot, ma cherie.
Buy 1 lemon and 1 lime, a can of frozen limeade and hopefully, you have on hand at home good tequila or a rum. Mix your limeade, cut up your lemons and limes and add 1half of each type to the pitcher. Add in 2 jiggers of tequila or rum for a nice zing. If you prefer wine to the liquor, you can add to your limeade (mixed to directions on the can), equal parts cava, prosecco, (both bubbly) or a good riesling.
Be sure to set out your shrimp to come to room temperature before your Delight arrives. Why? So that you can peel them easily and feed each other. (A note of caution: Do eat these tasty shrimp after you have both enjoyed each other in your special way. The spice in the Old Bay is so strong that it can burn your skin, long after you have finished dining.)
If you know your Delight is a hard man to satisfy, then do buy 2 pounds of shrimp and/or buy whole wheat crackers for substance. Put your crackers on a cookie tray, brush with good olive oil, dust with dried oregano and garlic salt. Then heat in a 400 degree oven for only 2 minutes! No more! You want them toasty, not burnt!
This is a hearty small meal for those who want to remember the spicy bits of the day long after night has fallen!
(copyright, 2009 Cerise DeLand)

Thursday, July 23, 2009


Waving hello, my lovelies!
That time of the week to prepare a new luscious adventure in eating for your special Afternoon Delight!
Today, I have a light, light, light suggestion for you.
First, a subtle white wine of light alcohol. After all, you must return to work after your grande little affaire, no? I suggest this week a savignon blanc. (A crisp change from a chardonnay, which may not appeal to your Delight. Too girly, oui?)
Chill it well. Four hours, at least.
Then, because up here in the northern climes it is soon to be hot hot hot summer, let's cool off after our affair with soup. Oh, yes. Do stay with me!
A subtle gaspacho of (ready?) two large tomatoes, half a green pepper, half an orange pepper, half a yellow onion, green tops of 2 scallions, all diced. Add to this, one can of tomato juice (or V-8, if you're into that), a dash of tabasco, salt to taste! Stir in at the last moment before your Delight arrives, a handful of torn (not cut, but hand torn) parsley. Charming because it adds more color, more drama, bella!
You are done! Add a few croutons, if you wish. Serve in lovely little cups and do spoon out the delicious treat to each other!
Until next Thursday, CIAO!

Thursday, July 16, 2009


Good morning, bella! For tomorrow’s afternoon affair, we start today with preparations.
At your grocery store, buy a pint of strawberries, one lime, one plump orange and a good bottle of Spanish cava or Italian prosecco. Add to this list a hearty crunchy country style bread, half a dozen eggs, plus a medium size tomato and an onion. Both should fit in your palm. At home, I hope you have a wholesome honey, garlic and Spanish or Italian olive oil (to match your choice of wine.)
On the morning of your grand little affair, do prepare your fresh sheets with a spray of lime and verbena, so refreshing in the hot hot hot summer. (My advice here is to also find a bathroom cleaner in the same scent as your sheets. Doing a bit of cleaning with this before your Delight arrives adds a delicious fragrance to the whole afternoon, cara.)
Then, begin your sangria. First, chill your wine for at least 4 hours.
Mix 3 T. of honey and a dash of cinnamon to washed, quartered strawberries. Add a few dashes of pourable brown sugar—or fine white so that it dissolves easily. (No graininess, please!) Add the juice of the lime and throw the rinds into the strawberries. Cut 3-5 luscious slices of orange and half them. Throw them in, too. Refrigerate to let the strawberries breathe and ooze their luscious red juices in the sweet lime and pungent orange. Every hour or so, stir the mixture. Fix the sweetness if you need more. But don’t make it too rich. You want to taste your wonderful bubbly wine when you add it at last!
Just before your Delight rings your doorbell, dice up the tomato and onion and one clove of garlic. If you have tears in your eyes when he arrives, do let him think you were crying in anticipation of the coming joy of the afternoon.
Then, when the two of you have decided refreshment is most welcome, pour 1/8 cup of olive oil into a very hot skillet. Brown your onion first, bella, so that it begins to caramelize and bring out the sugars, then add your garlic to translucence. Beat your eggs. Pop your loaf of bread into a 375 degree oven as you add your eggs to the hot skillet and scramble them with the garlic and onions. Add the diced tomato as the eggs begin to stick. Either serve as an omelet or a light scramble.
Have your Delight put your strawberry mix into a pitcher. Have him add 10-14 cubes. Then, have him pop the cork on your light wine and pour it into the pitcher. Stir.
Serve your sangria in margarita glasses, if you have them, or a small bowled glass. You want to be able to pick out the strawberries and the orange slices and feed them to each other.
A delightful, sinful little repast for two lovers who need to replenish their energies for the rest of the afternoon!
Until next time, bella, drink lightly, eat thoughtfully—and love wholly!
(copyright 2009 Cerise DeLand)

Tuesday, July 14, 2009

Guest today, Linda Mooney and her LORD OF THUNDER

Read Linda Mooney’s erotic tale, LORD OF THUNDER
Book 1 of the "Thunder" Trilogy
An erotic fantasy romance novel by Linda Mooney
Available from Whiskey Creek Press Torrid
Annie Mayall was a young bride, brought to Montana in 1940 by her new husband to start their new life soon as he struck it rich in the promised silver mines. Abandoned for three long desperate and lonely years, Annie was forced to survive by herself in the wilds of the mountains. Until one stormy night brought a severely wounded stranger to her tiny one-room cabin. A stranger both mystical and fascinating. A stranger who not only brought her happiness, but a kind of love she never knew existed.
A stranger who was not of this earth.
Warning: This book contains mutilation, abandonment, total isolation, harsh and unbearable weather, blood-letting, attempted homicide, attempted angel-cide, snoopy but concerned neighbors, close confinement, promises kept, and unusual uses for a feather.To read an excerpt and to order:
Also Available! EENIE MEENIE
A horrific short story by Gail Smith (Linda Mooney w/a)
From Red Rose Publishing
To read an excerpt and to order:
**And if you send her a receipt or proof of purchase for EENIE MEENIE, she’ll send you a PDF of another brand-new horror short story FREE!
Write her at:
Something lives in the big black plastic garbage bag. Something that isn't human. Something that depends on the goodwill of others to provide it with food. Fortunately, it's not particular if its meal is dead, long dead... or alive.

Friday, July 10, 2009

WELCOME my pal, Desiree Holt and her new EC release, LETTING GO!

I am thrilled to welcome my buddy and critique partner, Desiree Holt to my blog!
Here is a tasty nibble of her new LETTING GO!
For Kari Loftin life was all about control, in every aspect of it. But she realized that at forty-two she had managed to shut out every form of pleasure by keeping a tight rein on herself. With her beloved Cubs on a winning streak, she tossed away her control for one night and ventured into the world of Petey’s Sports Bar. Little did she expect to meet a hot young stud like Riley Tucker, who showed her a side of herself she’d never dared to explore. One night together and Riley wanted more. Much more. Could Kari get past the age difference—something that didn’t seem to bother Riley at all?
And the nibble!
He settled his hands, big and warm, on her shoulders, the heat from them burning through her t-shirt. While she watched with wide eyes he bent his head and licked her lips. Just a very, very light sweep of the tip of his tongue but she felt it all the way through her breasts to her womb. Heat crept over her skin and the beat of her heart tripped over itself.
“Mmm, good.” He licked his own lips, then slid his hands up to cup her face. “I knew you’d taste delicious.”
His mouth came down on hers again, his lips like rough velvet. She was sure he’d be the kind to attack voraciously but instead he seduced her mouth. He nibbled at each lip, his teeth teasing around the shape of her mouth, his tongue touching each tiny bite. He rubbed his lips against hers, then drew in her bottom lip and sucked on it gently.
Her bones felt like wax and more liquid soaked her panties. She felt as if she was suspended in space, attached only to his wonderful mouth.
When his tongue pressed against the seam of her closed mouth she opened with a sigh and thought how good he tasted. It swept inside, pleasantly shocking her as it stirred the nerves on every inner surface. Not an inch was left untouched—the roof of her mouth, the insides of her teeth and her cheeks, the pebbled surface of her own tongue. Tentatively she stretched it out to touch his and in seconds they were tangled together.
He kissed even better than he looked. She couldn’t breathe. Every bit of air was trapped in her throat. She lifted her hands and wrapped her fingers around his wrists, not to pull him away but to hold him in place. Her brain felt fuzzy, her body weightless and she wanted this kiss to go on forever.
Then a switch snapped on in her head and she tore her mouth away from his. Inbred insecurity reared its head and skittered along her spine.
“Wait,” she gasped. “Wait, wait, wait.”
He lifted his head and took a step back. “For what? What’s wrong, Kari”
“I have to tell you something. Please.”
He frowned at her. “Like what? You’re married?” He lifted her left hand, the ring finger glaringly bare. “No ring, unless you’re one of those liberated women who doesn’t think they’re necessary.”
“No, no.” She yanked her hand back. “It’s not that.”
“So what else could it be? You’re really a man who loves cross-dressing? Hell, I think it would be very hard to fake luscious breasts like those.” He skimmed the palm of one hand over her. “Yup. Real and made for touching.”
She took a step backward, wet her lips and let out a breath. “I’m forty-two.”
Riley stared at her, confused. “And?”
Why is he being so stupid? And why did I come upstairs with a man eleven years younger than me?
“I’m forty-two years old,” she practically shouted. Get it out now and get it over with.
“And that’s a problem how? I’m sorry. I don’t get it.”
She clenched her fists in frustration. Why wouldn’t he understand. “How old are you, Riley? Thirty? Thirty-one?”
He shocked her by bursting out laughing. “Jesus, Kari. For a minute you had me scared there. I thought there was a real problem.”
(copyright 2009, Desiree Holt)