Wednesday, February 26, 2014

WILD WICKED WEEKEND is what's for February fun for readers in San Antonio!

     The Sensational Six ladies who put on Wild Wicked Weekend ( last weekend are taking a big BREATHER!
      Well, really, if you saw our emails to each other in the past 2 days and if you've been to FB lately, we are not taking too much time off from planning for next year. We are EVERYWHERE!
     No lie.
     Tickled that we are, Desiree Holt, Regina Carlysle, Brenna Zinn, Samantha Cayto, Dalton Diaz and I are—to put it bluntly—tuckered.
    I slept for 11 hours last night, 8 the night before.
   This year we grew by more than 33% in our registration numbers. Next year, to keep it intimate and fun, we'll cap it at 150. Yes, CAP the registration. Could The Menger handle more? Sure. But we six want to be certain that we can deliver what we have done for the past 2 years: a fun, intimate, comfortable, easy, low cost vacation with authors whom you love!
    Really, we figure that is about what we can manage well and deliver a fun party for every reader and fan!
     For those of you who did not go, what did we provide?
    Well, according to our guests, we gave them FAB meals, courtesy of The Menger catering. We had fajitas and guacamole that you could just slather on your skin. We had desserts your grandmother would have devoured.  We had pasta that melted in your mouth. Salads and soups! Wow. And we didn't have to wash any of the dishes! Such relaxation!
    But what really melted in our mouths were our wonderful, fun-loving hosts, Cole, Taylor and Antonio. Yes, you must go to our FB page : #wildwickedweekend and take a look at some of the pix! Great guys and what terrific sports to play Sex Position Gumby (our faces HURT from laughing for 3 hours!) and give out all those baskets and baskets of prizes!
   Did you hear that we had a to-die-for Drag Queen Competition? Oh, they were superb. And the MC was a hoot. Will we have them next year?
    Oh, you must stay tuned to learn!
    One of our guests said she need a week to recover. Darn. I may need more. I even had blisters on the balls of my feet, I stood up and partied so much! Garrr.
   What do you need to know for next year?
    That the Sensational Six are going to deliver another wonderful, (educational???), fun, comfortable, intimate atmosphere at The Menger in February. Hey, even the weather cooperates with us and gave us 70 degrees and walkable joy last week.
    And here is the back page of our schedule to give our wonderful sponsors a big RAH RAH for helping us rock and roll in San Antone!

Friday, February 14, 2014

Regency Romps! My new cover reveal for LADY VARNEY'S RISQUE BUSINESS!

My new branding look and re-release of best-selling
What do you think?
Do you like the feel?
The colors?
The white space?
Yes, my own cherry logo, too!
This cover debuts my new branding look for my Regencies, a process that took me a long while, spending (gulp!) HOURS in stock sites.

As a former PR and Advertising exec and owner of my own business for more than 20 years, deciding on a new branding look was one of my first priorities for reissuing Regencies whose rights had been returned to me recently. Yes, I will self-pub these.

I wanted to experience the opportunity to create one look, one brand, one market outreach that would (hopefully) place me in the minds (and hearts) of Regency romance readers.

When you write for a house, they decide the covers. With a series, the artists in house do try often to give you an individual look, but not always.
Defining yourself across different publishing platforms creates the challenge of giving readers a look to search for and immediately identify as this author's or that.

Too often too, I find that certain graphic designers who are popular are giving their clients within a sub genre the same kind of look.  For Regency, we often have the house in the background or the landscape indicating a manor.

Here, I wanted a look more sweeping, brighter and in keeping with the fact that my Regencies are very sexy and have been, by nature of the houses that published them, considered erotic. Indeed, I hold forth that mine are very similar to many historical romance novels.  While that is for the reader to decide, I nonetheless wanted to position my novels as close to those. And this is the result.

What do you think?  Would you pick up LADY V. and what would you expect the story to be from looking at the cover?

Wednesday, February 12, 2014

Dark Duke, Your Regency fix from Sabrina York! Hubba hubba!

The Third Book in the Scorching Noble Passions Series by Sabrina York Releases!

Fans of Sabrina York’s steamy Regency series have been eagerly awaiting the release of Dark Duke, the third book (following award winning Folly and Dark Fancy) in which Edward Wyeth, the Dark Duke of Moncrieff, finally meets his match in the form of a flame-haired Scottish spitfire.

Noble Passions: Follow the decadent exploits of friends and enemies as they find love and passion in the glittering world of the Regency—and its dark underbelly. Each book is a stand-alone read.

If you’re new to the series, download Sabrina’s free teaser book at to read blurbs and excerpts for this popular series. Each book in the series is a stand-alone story.

Enter to win a signed print copy of Dark Fancy (Helena and James’ story—Book 2 in the Noble Passions Series) on Goodreads! 

Dark DukeSabrina York 

Noble Passions, Book Three
Edward Wyeth, the Dark Duke of Moncrieff’s life has been turned on its end. His well-ordered home has been invaded. By destitute relatives. From Scotland. How on earth can he write Lord Hedon’s salacious novels with hellions battling in the garden and starting fires in the library? But with the onslaught has come a delicious diversion. His cousin’s companion, the surprisingly intriguing Kaitlin MacAllister. He is determined to seduce her. Using her desperate need for funds and her talents as an artist, he convinces her to draw naughty pictures for his naughtier books…and he draws her into his decadent web.

But Kaitlin has a secret. She’s fled Scotland—and a very determined betrothed. When Edward’s cousin is kidnapped and held in her stead, Kaitlin is honor bound to return to her homeland and rescue her—much to Edward’s chagrin.

Because suddenly he can’t bear the thought of Kaitlin marrying another man. He can’t bear the thought of losing her at all.
A Romantica® Regency historical erotic romance from Ellora’s Cave

By reading any further, you are stating that you are at least 18 years of age. If you are under the age of 18, please exit this site.
An Excerpt From: DARK DUKE
Copyright © SABRINA YORK, 2014
All Rights Reserved, Ellora's Cave Publishing, Inc.
   Edward skirted the mêlée in the garden and made his way to the far end of the estate, where there was nothing but flowers and trees and a placid little pond. Nothing to attract diminutive fiends bent on mischief. He would sit in the folly until his temperature returned to normal.
   Perhaps until spring.
   Dear God. He’d had no idea having the Wyeths of Perth take over his house would be such a nightmare. If he had suspected as much, he would have turned them away at the start. They would probably have crawled in under the door. Through the cracks in the flue. Vermin had a way of finding entrance.
   But now. Now they were here.
   He had to get rid of them.
   Perhaps he could send them back to Scotland.
   Scotland would revile him for it, but he had little use for rocky tors, lochs and sheep.
Then he thought of Violet and his heart lurched. It would crush her to be trundled back to what she referred to as “the bleak wilderness.” She was looking forward to a glittering season in London. She was seventeen. She needed a husband. A husband of quality. That might be difficult to find in the wilds of Scotland.
   And Ned. Ned was twenty. He was just starting to find his way with the ton. He’d made some friends—decent fellows. He’d even been receiving invitations to game at White’s.
   The two of them—the normal two—deserved better than being lumped in with the rest.
   He whacked at a rosebud as he passed. It exploded into a flutter of petals. He refused to feel any sympathy.
   He couldn’t send them packing.
   Then what?
   Hell. He was a duke of the realm. He had six houses spread throughout the empire. Why hadn’t he thought to purchase a spare in London?
   That was brilliant.
   He would. He’d buy them their own house. Move them all, lock stock and—well, maybe not the barrels, as the older boys did like to drink. He’d move them all into their own domicile.
   With Aunt Hortense. Let her manage them.
   His life would once again be orderly. He would be the master of his own abode. Free to pursue the life of a wealthy dilettante.
   He rounded the bend with a satisfied smile on his face. The trickle of the fountain in the pond was a balm to his tormented soul. Birds sang in the trees. The sun—well, it almost shone. It was a beautiful day.
   Soon, the world would be right again.
   Soon, they would all be gone.
   He skipped up the steps of the folly with a lightness of heart he hadn’t felt in ages. A book on the bench snagged his attention and his mood dipped, but only a bit. Someone had been here. But they were gone.
   He picked it up and flipped through it and stilled.
   Good God.
   It was a sketch book.
  The first page was an attempt at this scene. The flowers and trees, the pond and the little fountain. Not very good. But the second arrested his attention. It was a simple line drawing of Violet. And it was stunning. The artist had managed to depict her beauty, but also captured that glint in her eye, the particular quirk of her lips. Her soul.
   The next sketch was one of Ned, showing a brash young man, standing insouciantly with his hands shoved into his pockets, whistling a silent tune. The next was of the twins—whatever their names were—dark heads together plotting some manner of mayhem.
   It was so realistic Edward expected them to leap from the page and whack him with a cricket bat.
   But it was the last sketch in the book that stole his breath. It was a portrait, in profile. His own face.    But not an Edward he would ever recognize. This man was heroic, tragic, a solitary soldier. It was only a few lines drawn in charcoal, but it revealed so much about him. Things he didn’t want anyone to ever know.
  It was horrifying. And remarkable.
  “Your Grace.”
  He snapped the book shut and spun around.
  Of course. What’s her name. The girl. The owl. From last night.
“Oh, you found it.” She stepped into the folly and took the book from his hands. He did not know why he let it go.
   “You left it here.” An accusation. Really? He hadn’t intended for it to come out like that.
   She chuckled. “I had to go rescue Hamish. I was coming back.”
   “What…why did you have to rescue Hamish?” This was her work? She saw him like that? And hell, she was a damn fine hand. How he would love to turn such talent to…darker purposes. What a pity she was such a prude. The kind of work he could offer her would make her rich—rich enough to quit serving as Violet’s companion.
   But she would never do it. No decent woman would.
   He must be crazed, truly crazed, to even think on it.
  The gripping sketch of his wounded countenance lingered in his brain. If she could do that, if she could see through to his soul and bring it to life on paper—
  “And then he got stuck. In the tree. So I had to rescue him.”
   Lord. She’d been talking. He’d missed the entire explanation. No matter. The question had been purely rhetorical.
   “How long have you been drawing?”
   She winced, clutched the book to her breast. He recalled what fine breasts they were. “I… What?”
  “How long have you been drawing? You’re quite good.”
   “You looked at my book?” She squawked as though he’d just admitted to peering up her skirts. The lemony face returned. A beetled brow and pursed lips. It was, upon reflection, rather adorable.
  “It was lying here.”
  “You shouldn’t look at someone’s sketchbook.”
   “You shouldn’t leave it where it can be found.” He crossed his arms over his chest and grinned at her. Damn, he loved her accent.
   She sputtered. “I told you. Hamish and Tay—”
   “Taylor. Hamish and Taylor were building a fort in a tree—”
  “Yes. Yes. I know. You had to rescue him. Tell me, have they always been this much trouble?”
  She blew out a breath. “You have no idea.”
  They both laughed. It was a nice moment, because it seemed, for that brief flash of time, they were friends, bound in mutual misery.
  And then he went and ruined it by letting his lust intrude. “So tell me, what did you think of that book?”
  She tipped her head. “What book?”
  “The one I gave you last night.”
   She blinked several times, as though she had to try very hard to remember. “Oh. That book. I didn’t read it.”
  He stepped closer. “Ah. You like to look at the pictures, then?” He knew the sort.
  “Look at the… What? No, your Grace—”
  “Edward.” He infused his voice with a low thrum.
  “Your Grace. I didn’t have a chance to open it.”
  Why petulance curled within him, he had no clue. “What do you mean you didn’t have a chance to open it?” She was supposed to have read it. Or at least looked at the pictures. She was supposed to be gazing at him, right now, with a dewy look.
  She brushed an invisible speck from her skirt. “There was…a distraction.”
  Well hell. “What kind of distraction?”
  Her lips pursed. The look she shot him was not dewy in the slightest.
  Still, he wanted to kiss her.
  He wasn’t sure why. She was certainly not the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. But her face had character and charm—especially when she smiled. Her figure was full—the way he liked them—but she didn’t show it off to its best effect. In fact, if he hadn’t known what lay beneath the thick layers of crinoline and bombazine, he would have been fooled. She was prickly as a hedgehog and smacked him down at every turn.
  So why did he want to pull her into his arms and smother her mouth with his?
  Perhaps because of all those things.
  Then again, perhaps just because.
  So he did.
  He took the girl—whose name he could not remember, whose face he could not forget—into his arms and kissed her. It was a gentle buss, as kisses went, but extremely sublime. Because he’d surprised her.
  Her lips were open, as though poised to speak. He took full advantage, sweeping in his tongue to dab  at hers, nibbling and licking and tasting her sweet breath.
  The prick at his side was not a surprise. He’d expected it.
  He lifted his head and stared down into her eyes. Her expression was dazed and determined and perhaps a little dewy. “Not this time, darling,” he murmured. He took the knife from her hand and tossed it aside and then pulled her more fully against him.
  And ah. She was soft. Sweet. Her breasts pressed against his chest. Her hips molded the cradle of his groin. Of course, he was the one doing the molding, but she didn’t fight him.
  No. She sighed and tipped her head to the side so he could deepen the kiss. She tasted like ambrosia.      A tantalizing flavor of cinnamon and woman and surrender. His ardor rose, and with it, his cock. He rubbed it against her belly.
  She stiffened and tried to push away, muttering something into his mouth that sounded like “No.”
  He changed his tack, running his lips down her cheek and along the line of her jaw to nestle in the crook of her neck. She shuddered. Some groan-like sound emanated from her throat. She clutched at his hair.
  Thusly encouraged, he sucked at the tender skin of her neck. Nipped.
   “Oh! Saints preserve us,” she whispered.
   “The saints don’t care,” he responded, switching to the other side of her neck. He found a spot that delighted her even more and feasted there. In her distraction, she didn’t stop the palm skimming over her ribs to cup a breast.
   He encased her. Ah. Exquisite. Full and round and pliable. He thumbed a nipple, testing its rigidity.      She dipped as her knees gave way. He caught her. Swung her up in his arms and carried her to the bench.
   From long experience, he knew better than to give a woman a moment to think. So as soon as he had her settled across his lap and firmly braced against the wall of the folly, he kissed her again. With one hand, he stroked her nipples while with the other, he slowly drew up her skirts.

About Sabrina York
Her Royal Hotness, Sabrina York is the award winning author of over 20 hot, humorous stories for smart and sexy readers. Her titles range from sweet & sexy erotic romance to scorching BDSM. Connect with her on twitter @sabrina_york, on Facebook or on Pintrest. Check out Sabrina’s books and read an excerpt on Amazon or wherever e-books are sold. Visit her webpage at to check out her books, excerpts and contests. Free Teaser Book: And don’t forget to enter to win the royal tiara!

Enter to win a signed print copy of scorching Regency romance, Dark Fancy on Goodreads!

Like my Facebook Author Page
Follow me on Twitter @sabrina_york
Check out my Pintrest boards:
Check out my Barnes & Noble Author page:

Books by Sabrina York
Brigand (Erotic Regency, Ellora’s Cave) —Coming soon
Heart of Ash: A Tryst Island Erotic Romance (Erotic Contemporary)
Tristan’s Temptation (Erotic Contemporary, Ellora’s Cave)

Monday, February 10, 2014

#5 in Sabrina York's Scorching TRYST ISLAND series, out at 99 cents! DO IT!

The Fifth Book in Sabrina York’s Scorching Tryst Island Series Releases!
Fans of the Tryst Island Books have been eagerly awaiting the next installment. Not only is it here, it is premiering at a special introductory price as a thank you to loyal readers. 
The scorching follow up to bestselling Rebound, Dragonfly Kisses, Smoking Holt and Heart of Ash, Devlin’s Dare will release at a special price of 99¢ for two weeks, before going to its regular price of $2.99 on February 15th.

If you’re new to the series, check out the Tryst Island Trailer: or download Sabrina’s free teaser book at to read blurbs and excerpts for this popular series. Each book in the series is a stand-alone story.
DEVLIN’S DARE—Book 5 in the Tryst Island Series
A No-Strings Fling Becomes Something For Which He Will Risk All
Devlin Fox has always been a player. A horny bee flitting from flower to flower. He has no idea why the sexy minx he meets on the way to Tryst Island affects him the way she does. Arousal—for her—hits him like a fist to the gut and he can’t stop thinking about her.
But Tara Romano doesn’t “do” commitments. For good reason. When she proposes they be “friends with benefits,” Devlin can’t figure out why the idea annoys him so much. It should be the perfect scenario. A gorgeous, alluring woman who only wants him for his body… He wants, needs, more from Tara, so he hits upon a plan to turn their no-strings-fling into something lasting. A series of tantalizing dares—dares Tara cannot resist.

Excerpt from Devlin’s Dare
Book 5 in the Tryst Island Series

By reading any further, you are stating that you are at least 18 years of age. If you are under the age of 18, please exit this site.

That’s Devlin Fox?” She glared across the restaurant. It wasn’t bad enough that the gorgeous guy she ran into on the ferry turned out to be friends with the douche in the ascot she’d been running from. No.
He had to be her worst enemy too.
Damn. Damn damn damn.
“You know him?” Bella asked.
“He writes a Foodie Blog.” Tara glowered around the table, trying hard not to snarl. Or pout. “He gave Stud Muffin a bad review.”
“What?” Cam squawked.
Jamie shook her head. “Why did he do that?”
Tara crossed her arms over her chest. She’d spent her life learning her craft. Spent her life savings opening her own bakery. Spent years building clientele. Then, with one crappy review, business had tanked. Totally into the toilet. In one fell swoop, many of her regulars had stopped coming in.
She wasn’t sure she’d be able to make the bills this month, which was devastating.
And all because of him.
It was unfair for one man to have so much power.
And why had he panned her bakery? “Because I don’t have gluten-free.” She muttered, then added, under her breath, “Big baby.”
Still, gluten-free was a huge deal in Seattle. She’d spent the past week working up recipes. And fantasizing about wreaking vengeance on a certain blogger.
It had been a mere fantasy, until now. But now…
Kaitlin shifted closer, drawing Tara’s attention. “What are you thinking?” she asked in a whisper, her features tight.
Tara froze. It didn’t do to think around Kaitlin. Not that the elfin redhead read minds, or at least that’s what she claimed. But she seemed to know things.
“Nothing.” Tara made it a point to bat her lashes.
Kaitlin’s nose rumpled, as though she smelled something nasty. Like a lie.
But hell. Tara couldn’t tell Kaitlin what she was really thinking because Kaitlin—the sweet, innocent soul that she was—would try to talk her out of it. Ramble on about Karma and shit.
No, Tara couldn’t tell anyone what she was really thinking about.
Because she was plotting revenge.
She was going to get Devlin Fox back. And she was going to get him good.
* * * * *
“Hi there.”
Devlin turned on the barstool, his trademark smile firmly in place. Everything within him froze. It was her. That little slice of heaven from the ferry. Damn. She was as hot as he remembered.
She sidled up next to him and the chatter of the bar receded. Fascination—and something else—rose.
“Well hello there.”
He liked her scent, something floral and light. He liked her heat as she pressed against his side. She lowered her long lush lashes and peeped up at him through the fringe. Damn, that was sexy. She licked her lips. That was sexy too.
“I never got to thank you,” she purred.
“Th-Thank me?” Was that her hand? On his thigh?
Shit yeah.
“For saving me.” Her fingers flexed. “I would have tumbled to my death if you hadn’t grabbed me.”
“I doubt you would have tumbled to your death. Disfigurement, perhaps. Dire injury. But not death. Don’t exaggerate.”
She laughed, a low chortle. “Well… Thank you.” She leaned closer and whispered, “Can I buy you a drink?”
Devlin blinked. He’d been hit on in bars before, but no woman had ever offered to buy him a drink.
She might just be a perfect woman. “Sure.”
“What’s your poison?”
“Whiskey sour.”
She signaled to the bartender.
“So…I’m Devlin.”
“Devlin.” She cooed. Actually cooed.
“And you are…?”
He jumped a little as her hand skated up his thigh. His pulse skipped. “I…ah…yes. But what can I call you?” He had a pretty good idea where this was headed, and he wanted to know what to cry out as he sank into her steamy depths. It was only polite to know a woman’s name at a moment like that.
She pursed her lips, as though she were thinking it over. Or thinking about something else. Her thumb snaked up. Nudged his balls, ever so lightly, and through thick denim, but he felt it like an electrical charge. “Call me Sugar.”
“Sugar.” Oh yeah. She was sweet.
“Would you…like to go for a walk?”
“A walk?” His cock lurched. All thoughts of that drink faded.
“It’s a beautiful night…”
She looked over her shoulder and then threaded her fingers in his, leading him toward the back of the bar. He didn’t know why they weren’t heading for the front door, but didn’t much care.
She was a beautiful woman. She wanted him. And he was just drunk enough to follow her anywhere she led.
He shot a glance at Parker who sent him a thumbs up.
They barely made it out the back door of the bar before she kissed him. Damn. Backed him up against the wall, raked her fingers through his hair, pulled his head down and took his mouth.
And damn, she was a good kisser. She ate him with heat and passion and carnivorous zeal. He responded in kind, thrusting his tongue into her mouth. He nearly passed out when she sucked on it, nibbled it, toyed with it. He couldn’t help imagining her doing the same to his cock.
Her palm roved over his chest and made its way down to his hips. He didn’t dare move as she slowly teased the band of his jeans. She pulled back and held his gaze as she popped the snap.
“Mmm,” she murmured, reaching in. His eyes crossed as she molded his length. Squeezed. “Such a big boy.” She licked her lips and his brain short-circuited. When she went to her knees before him and blew a hot breath on him through the cotton of his briefs, he nearly lost consciousness. “I want to taste you,” she said. “Take off your pants.”
Holy God. Yes.
In a frenzy, he kicked off his shoes, and ripped off his jeans, hopping from one foot to the other. He held still, frozen in place, as she hooked her thumbs in his briefs and eased them down revealing his eager cock. She dragged his underwear down until they pooled at his ankles.
He heard the catch in her moan. Felt the trace of a warm finger around his swollen head and down to the base. He shuddered.
“Ah. Yes,” she said, coming close. Her heat caressed him. His knees knocked. She fisted him. Pumped. Once. Twice. Blood pounded at his temples. Thrummed in his cock. She bent closer. Her damp breath kissed the head. “Such a big dick,” she said.
If he’d been in his right mind, her tone would have warned him, but he wasn’t in his right mind. He was a little drunk and a lot horny and there was a gorgeous woman on her knees before him with his cock in her fist. Her mouth hovered over the tip.
Yes. Yes. Just a little more…
She released him and stood up in a rush. Her beautiful, seductive expression morphed into something bitter. He gaped at her, stunned.
“Yeah,” she said, propping her fists on her hips. “You, Devlin Fox, are a big dick.”
And then she left. Whirled on her heel and left him standing there, half-naked, leaning against the grimy brick wall behind a grungy bar.
And she took his jeans.
About Sabrina York
Her Royal Hotness, Sabrina York is the award winning author of over 20 hot, humorous stories for smart and sexy readers. Her titles range from sweet & sexy erotic romance to scorching BDSM. Connect with her on twitter @sabrina_york, on Facebook or on Pintrest. Check out Sabrina’s books and read an excerpt on Amazon or wherever e-books are sold. Visit her webpage at to check out her books, excerpts and contests. Free Teaser Book: And don’t forget to enter to win the royal tiara!

Enter to win a signed print copy of scorching Regency romance, Dark Fancy on Goodreads!

Like my Facebook Author Page
Follow me on Twitter @sabrina_york
Check out my Pintrest boards:
Check out my Barnes & Noble Author page:

Books by Sabrina York
Brigand (Erotic Regency, Ellora’s Cave) —Coming soon
Heart of Ash: A Tryst Island Erotic Romance (Erotic Contemporary)
Tristan’s Temptation (Erotic Contemporary, Ellora’s Cave)

Wednesday, February 5, 2014

"Obvious talent and cleverness of DeLand's writing and plotting…" makes her SENSE AND SENSIBILITY a great read!

Jeep Diva Reviews had a few heartrendingly wonderful words for my erotic adaptation of Jane Austen's SENSE AND SENSIBILITY.

Oh, be still my foolish heart!

I am so tickled that I did a screen shot and put it here for you. But do please go to Jeep Diva's site as well and enjoy her golden words, not simply for me but about others' works as well. /#comment-16724