Sunday, March 31, 2013


   Cerise, darling, thank you so much for inviting me to blab about my latest book! I always have so much fun when I visit you!
   Today I am celebrating the release for my sexy funny short story, Man Hungry, the tale of what happens when two practical jokers are matched up on a blind date. This book was so much fun to write, I just had to share. It’s a really quick, fun read. I’ve attached the blurb and excerpt below so you get a taste!
   I also wanted to let you know that I have an exciting new book coming out in April, Rebound, which I have talked about below.
   Oh, and this is important! Today is the LAST DAY to enter my Tiara Giveaway.
   Well…until I decide to give away another. My bling closet is getting kind of cluttered. (But darling, if you’re going to be a hoarder, shouldn’t you be hoarding bling?”)
   There’s still time to enter to win my Tiara and a copy of Man Hungry! To enter, just sign up for the Royal Hotsheet (Sabrina’s Newsletter). Newsletter subscribers are eligible to win all coming contests as well as random giveaways. Because, have I mentioned? Tiara closet? Cluttered?
   Send an email with "Enter Me" in the subject line (this is erotica, after all) to If you want to win a copy of Man Hungry, mention that in the body of the email!
   The drawing will be March 31, 2013. It is a completely random drawing. I made it a point to have the one person on the planet who ABSOLUTELY DOES NOT CARE about the results draw the winner.
   That is, after all, what teenage sons are for.
   Remember, only one entry per person, but if you refer your friends you will earn bonus entries.
Refer Your Friends Bonus Entries
   Tell your friends about Sabrina York, Her Royal Hotness. If they sign up for Sabrina's Hotsheet you earn another entry, plus a chance at a Referrals Only drawing for more bling. (NOTE: They must tell me that you referred them in the message box so I can give you credit).
   Good luck!!!

   Now that we have that out of the way, here’s the taste of Man Hungry I promised!
   MAN HUNGRY by Sabrina York
   Blind dates are hell. At least that’s what Justin thinks before he’s set up with Jessica, a sizzling-hot schoolteacher who captures his heart—or at least his lust—at first sight. He can’t let their date fail so he does what any sane, rational prankster would do—he pretends he’s there to meet someone else. A man-hungry schoolmarm.
   Jessica knows full well that Justin is her date, so she decides to have a little fun and show him exactly how man hungry a “schoolmarm” can be. And Jessica’s hunger is all for Justin. On the dance floor, atop a table, up against a door…she just can’t get enough.
    This is an Ellora’s Cave Quickie, so be ready for a wild ride with lots of action—and ultimate satisfaction—packed into a sizzling short story.
An Excerpt from Man Hungry 
Copyright © 2013 by Sabrina York, 2013
All Rights Reserved, Ellora’s Cave Publishing , Inc.

By reading any further you are stating you are at least 18 years of age. If you are under the age of 18, it is necessary for you to exit this site.

   “You’ve got to save me.”
   Jessica blinked as the most gorgeous man she’d ever seen slipped into her booth and grabbed her hand. She barely registered the intrusion. His grasp was that warm.
   “I beg your pardon?” She lifted her voice above the blare of the band. It was a country band and a country bar—not her preference but a girl had to do what a girl had to do to meet a decent guy.
   “Please. You look like a compassionate soul.” His crooked grin, ringed as it was by a scruffy beard, made rivulets of excitement trickle down her spine, as did the tantalizing dent in his chin. His eyes, large and brown and fringed with long, thick lashes, glinted with humor. A deep dimple sliced through one cheek. His Stetson, from which dark curls erupted, was tipped at a jaunty angle. He batted his lashes—a move that frankly should be against the law. “Can’t you find it in your heart to save me?”
   His Dallas drawl made her mouth water—she’d always had a thing for cowboys with dented chins—but she stiffened her spine against his appeal.
   She did not need another puppy dog lover. She’d had enough of those in her life. That’s why she was here. To meet her friend Penny’s staid, stick-in-the-mud lawyer cousin. A guy she could have a future with. Who liked country music. And country bars.
   He was probably a Republican.
   Good. She hoped he was.
   She hoped he was a grown-up as well.
   Nope. No more puppy dogs for her. She’d made an oath. And she was bone-tired of cleaning up their messes on the carpet. Against her will, her lips twitched. She did love those puppy dogs. And this one was damn cute.
   She cleared her throat. It was clogged with arousal. “Save you from what?”
   Her cute cowboy slash puppy dog shot a look around the crowded bar and hunkered lower like an outlaw hiding from the sheriff. “The dreaded man-hungry spinster.”
   A laugh bubbled through her. As pickup lines went, at least his was original. And entertaining. She lifted her beer to disguise her amusement.
   “Oh. Sorry.” His gaze danced back to hers. “I meant to say the dreaded man-hungry spinster schoolmarm.” He offered a charming, self-effacing grin.
   Jessica stilled, bottle halfway to her mouth. She was a spinster schoolmarm. Well, an unmarried teacher at least. Close enough.
   The cowboy leaned in. His warm breath skated across her cheek. It was all she could do not to nestle right up against him. Melt, maybe. “Just dance with me. Please? One dance before I have to resign myself to the misery of a blind date?”
   Jessica’s belly lurched. “You’re meeting a blind date?”
   Oh. Crap. So was she. She was a spinster schoolmarm here to meet a blind date.
   Oh. He couldn’t be Justin. Could he? She narrowed her focus on his face, nearly distracted by the lazy droop of his lids, the full lips, his scent as it wafted toward her every time he moved. He didn’t look like the guy in the tux down the line from Penny in her wedding photo, the guy with the short-cropped hair and formal posture.
   The stodgy lawyer.
   Her attention snagged on his jawline and a shiver raced through her. She had a thing for a hard, square, dented chin. Yeah, his hair was longer, he was definitely scruffy and he was dressed in a very unlawyerlike long-sleeved t-shirt, jeans and cowboy boots. But she’d recognize that chin anywhere.
   “Ho yeah.” He nodded and an unruly curl escaped onto his forehead. “My cousin’s friend.” He sent her a pleading look. “Did I mention she’s a schoolteacher?”
   Certainty stirred in her gut—along with the little demon of mischief that lived there. He was Justin, her date.
   He just didn’t know it.
   Oh, this was going to be fun.

About Sabrina York
Sabrina is an award winning author of erotic romance with nearly a dozen titles available, ranging from sweet & sexy erotic romance to BDSM to erotic horror. Connect with her on twitter @sabrina_york or Facebook.
Check out Sabrina’s books and read an excerpt on her webpage ( or explore on Amazon or at Ellora’s Cave.
·       Adam’s Obsession: Contemporary Erotic Romance  
·       Extreme Couponing: Contemporary BDSM
·       Folly: Erotic Regency
·       Man Hungry: Erotic Contemporary
·       Pushing Her Buttons: Contemporary BDSM  
·       Rising Green: Steamy Erotic horror
·       Training Tess: Contemporary BDSM  
·       Trickery: Magical Domination  
·       Tristan’s Temptation: Contemporary Erotic Romance  

Coming Soon from Sabrina York: Rebound, Book One of the Tryst Island Series.
Fall in Love on Tryst Island…
When a group of friends share a vacation house, wild hijinks, unexpected hook-ups and steamy sex ensue. And true love. Did I mention they all find true love? And steamy sex?
Rebound by Sabrina York
A Tryst Island Erotic Romance
Kristi Cross has had the hots for her friend, Cameron Jackson as long as she could remember, but she knows she’s not his type. She’s nothing like the women he dates. So when he suggests they play for a kiss over a game of Hearts, Kristi can’t resist. Even if she loses, she wins. Because she’s finally going to taste him.
 Of course, one kiss can quickly become something altogether steamier, especially when both parties are on the rebound…

Friday, March 29, 2013

Rose, Exposed - Sex and Marriage in the 1930s

Thank you for hosting me today. I’m excited to discuss sex and marriage in the 1930s and my recent release, Rose, Exposed, a multicultural historical erotic romance set in the 1930s.

This post is part of the official Rose, Exposed Blog Tour (3/26 - 4/09).                  
The grand prize for the tour is vintage-style rose earrings for pierced ears (U.S. shipping address only).
To be eligible, COMMENT on this post. Comment should include the historical time period and geographical setting (when and where) you’d most like to see in a romance.
The tour winner will be announced at on April 11th.

Sex and Marriage in the 1930s

Today, when a man wants to have sex with a woman, he usually dates her and might even live with her if he wants it on a regular basis. People tend to get married later, after living together, or not at all. In the 1930s, however, the subject of marriage came up a lot faster in conversation. Try watching a classic movie and then a modern one. Count the number of times the word marriage is used in each. I bet you’ll see a big difference. If a man wanted to get a woman into bed, he knew marriage was the most practical way to get there.

The relationship between marriage and sex has evolved over time and will surely continue. Historically, marriages of convenience were common. This common plot device in historical novels features two strangers who find themselves in close proximity, which kindles a new flame. Also, young ladies commonly moved from the home of their family of origin directly to that of their husband. From birth to widowhood, men ran their lives. Finally, social mores prevented unmarried girls from being seen with men without a suitable chaperone. Courting had a lot of restrictions and always had marriage as the tangible goal.

By the 1930s, however, the old social mores were changing. Dating -- spending time with a man with the goal of fun instead of marriage -- began in the 1920s. Some women even lived independently as single, working women before marriage.

In my new release Rose, Exposed, the heroine struggles with morality. Torn between duty and desire, she wants to enjoy the passion of married people without the marriage because she doesn’t want to be told what to do for the rest of her life by yet another man. In the prequel, Plucking the Pearl, the heroine also struggled with the morality of the times. A reviewer said I did a nice job striking the right balance. I hope I’ve achieved it in the sequel as well.

Rose, Exposed

Publisher:  Ellora's Cave Publishing
Release Date:  27 March 2013
eBook ISBN #:  978-14199-45205
Stay tuned for reviews and more:

(I love creating trailers for all my books!)

When Leroy Johnson gets promoted at the new oyster plant on Pearl Point, all he cares about is working hard. When he meets the flirtatious artist Rose Wainwright, however, nothing matters except getting her to the altar and into bed. Healing from a recent loss, he’s not about to let her go too.

Because Rose’s strict, social-climbing father doesn’t approve of dark-skinned Leroy, they court in secret anyplace they can find. Although Leroy’s raw passion can convince her to do almost anything, why can’t he understand she needs freedom, not marriage?
Her father wants her to be white, but Leroy wants her to be black. Playing both sides of the fence leaves this young biracial beauty exposed in more ways than one.

Excerpt (explicit)
Rose, Exposed - Copyright © AFTON LOCKE, 2013 - All Rights Reserved, Ellora's Cave Publishing, Inc.

“You’re so…dark,” she exclaimed. Instead of the disdain he expected, he heard fascination.

Come on, lady. Don’t tell me you’ve never seen a colored man before.

“Yes, I’m dark,” he agreed as he politely removed her hand, “which is why it’s not a good idea for us to sit alone together in this car. Someone might come along and jump to the wrong conclusion.”

A conclusion that could get him beat up or worse with the Klan close by on Oyster Island.

But before he could stop her, she clasped both sides of his face and pressed her sweet mouth to his. Aw, hell. A man only had so much self-control, and she’d just shattered his. Unable to stop himself, he plundered her delicate mouth. Her lips reminded him of rose petals, and he sucked the sweetness out of them as if he were a bee. The more he tasted, the more he wanted.

She opened, giving him access to her even sweeter tongue. His penis strained, hard and now wet, against his undershorts. Hell, even his balls must be twice their normal size. Taking a big breath, he pulled away from her.

“We can’t do this. You’re white.”

She looked down at her upturned palms. “Then I really do look white?”

Leroy frowned. “Aren’t you?”

For the first time, her smile disappeared, making him shiver in his wet clothes. “The truth is, I don’t know what I am. I suppose that’s why I took this foolish drive.”

She must be biracial then, he realized, and not forbidden after all. The thought made him want to dance on the hood of the car. She still looked white, though. If he didn’t have the time to court a girl his own color, he sure didn’t have any for a complicated one like this.

“Kiss me again,” she demanded.

Without waiting for him to answer, she locked her hot, damp mouth on his again and tugged hard on his shoulders. Before he knew it, he was on top of her on the front seat. He wished her dress weren’t so thin when two round breasts pushed against his chest and long, slender legs shifted restlessly under his. Dizzy with the scent of rain and her, he froze.

At that moment, nothing mattered except finding out if her cunt was as sweet and yielding as her mouth. He didn’t care if the entire Klan showed up, knocked on the window and caught him thrusting between her legs on this slippery leather seat. It had been too damn long since he’d had a woman. He needed to stop this while he still could.

“Do you know what you’re asking for?” Lust had turned his voice into a husky croak.

She laughed and touched his face again. “I don’t know. What am I asking for?”

This girl was crazier than he’d first thought. What if someone less honorable than himself had stopped instead? She could’ve been raped.

“A whole lot of trouble.” He sat up. “Look, this is not the time or the place. Now let’s get you home.”

The sooner he could be rid of her—before she derailed him from his job, family, and everything else that mattered—the better.

WIPs Coming Soon

Rose, Exposed is the sequel to Plucking the Pearl, an interracial historical erotic romance.
I have two more books planned for the Oyster Harbor series. Next up for romance are Sadie and Henry.

In addition to interracial/multicultural historicals, I also plan to keep writing erotic contemporaries.
Can an older woman find love with a hot male stripper? My current WIP, Two Hours to Entice, will answer that question.

Where readers can find me

I will be attending EC’s RomantiCon Oct 10-13, 2013 in Canton, Ohio -
Don’t miss the book signing on Oct 13th.
I’m also hosting a Fabulous Fusion workshop with Koko Brown and Eve Vaughn to celebrate interracial erotic romance for EC’s Fusion line.

Newsletter - The Love Chronicle:

Café au Lait Book Club:

Monday, March 11, 2013

HIS DELECTABLE COOK: in the dining room, on the kitchen table, on the floor...

I am so delighted to debut my cover for my late Regency-early Victorian, HIS DELECTABLE COOK. Don't you think this is wonderful? Lickable? Tempting?
The story stars a young woman who answers an advert for a position as cook to the new earl.
Does she know he is such a rogue?
Does she anticipate that he likes to share his women with his staff and his younger brothers?
Might our little cook relish the very idea?
You must come and learn.
No date yet for this single release. But it is in the anthology, AT YOUR SERVICE, for to be released June 30!
Need a nibble?
Of course you do!
Copyright, Cerise DeLand 2013.

     Bess Deveraux stood before her new employer, prim as a blushing bride, which she most definitely was not, and proud as the virago she wished to become. And all because the man she faced was precisely the type of master she had yearned for since she first discovered the joys her body could give her six long years ago. He embodied all the essential qualities she desired in a lord and master: He was handsome, self-possessed, filthy rich and scandal-ridden. At the moment, he was also astonished at her appearance before him. The tick in his left cheek told that tale.
     “Mrs O’Brien assures me you are qualified for my household.” Lord Taryn Wentworth sat, loose-boned, maddeningly louche, in a large leather chair examining her from across his sun-dappled library.
Betty flushed with pride at her accomplishment to jump the gauntlet of the acerbic housekeeper and appear before him as the woman’s choice for the cook’s position. The servant had riddled her with questions for hours about her previous experience and her employers.
   “She informs me you are experienced with supper parties and balls.” One long well-muscled leg across the other, Wentworth pursed his full lips together as his searing sapphire eyes assessed her chin, her throat and her bosom in the cook’s shapeless white attire.
   At his gravelly base voice, Betty refrained from shifting on her feet as her nipples peaked high and hard against the rough cotton of her new uniform. She was so right not to have donned a corset this morning. Nor worn any pantalets. After all, she had taken this position to be free of all social restraints.
   “Betty!” Mrs. O’Brien chastised her to respond to the man who had recently inherited this Mayfair house, an older pile in Dorset, an earldom and twenty thousand a year income. “Do answer his lordship.”
   Betty locked eyes with him, the rogue. “I was not aware it was a question.”
   “Careful, girl,” O’Brien growled.
   Betty caught his lordship fighting a smile. “Yes, of course. Pardon me, Went— “ No, not so familiar, Bess! “Sorry, my lord. I am very accomplished at preparing party menus. Game, beef, puddings.”
   “Red snapper?”
   Betty suppressed a chuckle at his lewd reference. How like the scoundrel to try to make her laugh. “I have it on good authority that my fish is superbly prepared. Always in a savoury sauce.”
   He rubbed his lower lip with the tip of one index finger. “How are your sweet things?”
   When properly prepared? “They melt in your mouth.”
   “Tempting,” he conceded with a tour of her body from generous breasts to tiny waist and the length of her legs. She had heard his eyes could scald and titillate. Her cunny swelled with the proof. “And what of your cakes? Do you work with chocolate?”
   “I can bake one for you, my lord.”
    Irritable and commanding this morning, are we, my lord Wentworth? Hmm. “Of course. Marzipan. Vanilla glaze. Whatever you—“
   “What do you do with strawberries? Peaches?”
   The devil. Her nipples pebbled like strawberries. Eager to have those luscious lips of his sucking them. And her peaches? She squeezed her pussy walls together. Yes. Her peaches were plump and ready to be bitten into. “Such delicacies, I offer ripe and sugared with—”
   “Ices?” he cut her off with a narrowing of his sparkling eyes and a shift in his chair.
   Uncomfortable, my lord?  This is your fault, you realize. You did ask. “Yes. Sculptured, my lord. Swans, birds and—“
   “I see,” he said though what he was looking at was her nipples peaking against the muslin uniform.    “Where did you learn to carve ice?”
   “In the house where I grew up, my dearest friend was the cook.”
   His cool façade fell from his face at hearing this tidbit. “Was your friend, the sculptress, also expert with her dishes?”
   “A fine chef, my lord. My father became enchanted with her finesse and claimed no one could make a soufflé that compared. I learned much from her.”
   “Such as?”
   Ah. You taunt me at your own risk, Wentworth. “She declared if one fed a man what he loved, he would return, hungry forevermore.”
   “Astute of her.” He, over the shock of gazing at her heart-shaped face and limpid eyes, grew more relaxed. Even jovial.
   “True, my lord.” Betty rocked back on her heels, bolder now that she had him in conversation. “She was most particular instructing me on how to prepare any organ from a large animal, most especially his brain.”
   He arched a brow at her. “For example, what?”
   “How to tenderize a big piece of meat.” She used her hands illustrating her passion to pull and draw on one specific part of a male animal.
   O’Brien cleared her throat.
   Betty clasped her hands behind her back, rising on her toes and thrusting out her heavy breasts. “I roast a succulent duck, as well. Do you like duck, my lord?”
   “I appreciate all things succulent, Betty.” He flashed a smile at her, a rueful twitch of that libertine’s mouth. One Bess had to trace and taste very soon. “Leave us, Mrs. O’Brien.”
   “My lord, I depart here in the morning for the house in Dorset as you requested,” the housekeeper bit off her words, miffed at her dismissal from this interview, “but I have not yet discussed the menu with her for tomorrow evening and with a new butler and footman—“
   “I will tell her what to serve.” Wentworth waved the woman toward the door, though his gaze locked on Betty’s. “She will inform you after I am done with her. You may go to your duties, Mrs. O’Brien.”

Friday, March 1, 2013

Downloading books for free? What do these robbers gain?

Three hundred million Euros. Approximately $270 million.
That is how much money piracy in Spain amounts to, according to a recent analysis there.
In the United States, currently the total reaches an astonishing $3 billion.  (See: )
Yes, B for billion.
But in my own pocket, or I should say out of it, I see an OUCH factor that amounts to THOUSANDS of dollars.
I am not alone.
So many of my friends/colleagues have the same problem.  Whenever one person downloads one novel, they steal approximately $1.50+ from me. If they then email that book to someone else, the amount multiplies.
Now, I can say that I write for a living. My colleagues do too.
Recently, I saw that one book of my novels on one pirate site had been downloaded 496 times. (And I have sent take down notices to this site before, so they have robbed me multiple times!) So for that one book, I have been robbed of $744.00.
That is not chicken feed.
What could I do with that money?
Pay my grocery bill. Help pay my mortgage. Save it in my bank account for my old age.
What did the thief do with the $3.99 he/she deprived me of?
Buy a bag of chips?
Buy a new mascara in the dime store?
Reading a novel is one of the most inexpensive and long-lasting entertainments. For a very small sum, a reader gets to enjoy many hours of pleasure in a quiet, serene way. Is that not worth something more than being ripped off?????
This craziness has got to stop and the only way to do it is to write about it CONSTANTLY. To download an author's book for free is a crime. It is larceny. Theft.
I am out to catch thieves. EVERY DAY.