Saturday, June 28, 2014

Brenna Zinn interviews her newest stripper in Iron Rods series! A Scots dreamboat with a grrreat bod!

Brenna Zinn
Hopefully you’ve already heard about Iron Rods, the best little fictional strip club for women in Texas.  If you haven’t let me fill you in. 
Iron Rods is the first book in a series about a rundown strip club for women in Austin. At the beginning of Iron Rods, you learn that the club is a bone of contention between the owner, Austinite and half-crazy old man, Lyle Truitt and his estranged New Yorker son, Bennett Truitt.  Suffering from neglect and mismanagement, the club is in bad shape, including the shoddy dancers.  Then Tatum Reynolds, a down-on-her-luck University of Texas graduate with a Master of Dance degree, takes over and begins its slow return to its former glory. 
In book one, several strippers, past and new, make an appearance. I’d like to give you an opportunity to meet one of them – my favorite – the Masked Man.
The Masked Man is exactly that.  He auditions for a place on the stripper team wearing a mask and never takes it off.  The only things Tatum knows about the mystery man is that his real name is Mack Garner, he speaks with a
Scottish accent and he has to keep his true identity under wraps.
Interviewer: Hello Mack, if indeed that is your real name. Congratulations on being selected as one of the strippers for the new and improved Iron Rods.
Mack: Thank ye. And Mack is my real name. My accent may be as fake as a three dollar bill, but I carry it off well enough. Dinna ye think?
Interviewer wipes mouth from the pooling drool: Yes. Absolutely. Nothing like a good looking man with a Scottish accent.
Mack: The ladies seem to like it well enough. The more they like what they see and hear, the more they like to tip.  Ye ken?
Interviewer: Oh.  I ken, alright.  So just between us and everyone reading this blog, why the need for all the secrecy?  I mean, really.  It’s not like you’re an FBI agent or a guy under the Witness Protection Program, right?
Mack: *chuckles* I ken what you’re doing, Lass, and it won’t work.  What I will tell ye is that I have a job where my work as a stripper would be frowned upon.  And I dinna want to lose my job.
Interviewer: Fair enough.  Then let’s talk about how you got into stripping.  Have you done it long?
Mack: No, not at all.  I’ve never stripped before, except maybe for a few lasses I dated.  And then it was before I took them in my arms and had the kind of sex with them that curled their toes. But I have danced since I was a kid looking for something to do with my time. I grew up with my granddad, Jamie McKenzie, who truly is from Scotland, and I got into dancing after school to keep myself out of trouble until ol’ Jamie could come fetch me.
Interviewer: No stripper experience?  That’s surprising.  Didn’t Tatum Reynolds, the manager of Iron Rods, make you the lead stripper?
Mack: Aye. She did. I’m as stunned as you.  Clearly the woman has a keen eye.
Interviewer *swallows hard*: It wouldn’t take a keen eye to see you’re an extremely handsome man with talent.   So, um, do you have a girlfriend? Any women in your life?
Mack: No girlfriend. The only woman in my life is my boss and she about drives me crazy.  She has a stick up her backside that’s hard to get past. I wish she would lighten up a bit. Get off my back and into my bed.
Interviewer: Excuse me?  I didn’t hear that last part.
Mack: I said I wish she would get off my back and smile a bit. The woman never smiles.
Interviewer: Now that you’ve had a chance to meet the other strippers, what do you think of the “Men of Iron Rods”?
Mack: For the most part, they’re a fine group of fellas.  There is one though that seems to have a pretty fair-sized chip on his shoulder. Not sure what his problem is – yet. But I have a feeling we may bump heads if he doesna watch his step.
Interviewer: Interesting.  What’s this man’s name?
Mack:  I dinna know what his real name is.  Dinna care, really. His stage name is Archangel. Thinks he’s the bloody star of the show. But we all know who that is, now don’t we?
Interviewer *nodding furiously*: Yes we do.  Speaking of stage name, what’s yours?
Mack: Ack, well, we’re still figuring that out.  Tatum has been saying that the hot thing going on these days is BDSM.  What the bloody hell is BDSM?
Interviewer: Does she mean Bondage, Domination, Sadism and Masochism?
Mack: Well, well now. I dinna ken for sure.  Is that what that means? I had no bloody idea. Verra interesting.
Interviewer: Tatum is right, you know.  BDSM is extremely popular these days.  I’m curious to find out what she has in mind.
Mack: You and me both, Lass.  You and me both.
Interviewer: That about does it for our time today.  Anything you want to say before we wrap up this interview?
Mack: Aye. My story, Masked Secrets, is the second book in Brenna Zinn’s Strip Club series. If you liked Iron Rods, book one. You’re gonna love Masked Secrets.

Click HERE to purchase Iron Rods from Amazon.

To read more about Iron Rods, Masked Secrets and the third book in the series, Dirty Politics, go to www.IronRods.NET.

Here’s an excerpt. Enjoy!
   Watered-down drinks were the last straw. The wild concoction of emotions brewing within her bubbled over. The time for calm had passed. She needed action. Something to release the rage and hurt trapped inside. She’d had enough of being stomped on by life, and by God she would not sit still while this seedy little club stepped on her as well.
   Tatum picked up both drinks and marched to the bar, fury feeding her temper. Something in her day was going to go right, and having a decent drink to dull her pain wasn’t too much to ask for. So what if Conan the bartender looked as though he could snap her in half. If he so much as blinked the wrong way, she’d jump over the counter and make him wish he’d never poured a drink in his life.
   The bartender had his broad back to her and appeared deep in conversation at the end of the bar with another man she hadn’t noticed before. How she could have overlooked the stranger was a mystery.
   The man looked up and made eye contact with Tatum. Out of nowhere, fire popped and sizzled through her, scorching senses that had been dulled by the oppressiveness of the club. For a mesmerizing moment, she stared at the stranger, unable to look anywhere else.
   Black hair groomed to perfection, a handsome face with an honest-to-God square jaw and wearing the kind of slick suit and tie she’d only seen in magazine ads, he looked like a modern-day aristocrat.    Some big shot who was completely out of place in a dive like Iron Rods.
   Why such a good-looking man was here to do anything beyond strip she didn’t know and didn’t give a flip, she reminded herself. Tonight she was on a mission to forget her troubles and find some kind of satisfaction. If the stranger couldn’t help her in either regard, then he was little more than eye candy.
   She plunked down the cocktail glasses. A harsh thud sounded as they hit the wood counter. The bartender glanced over his shoulder. His face still appeared impassive, though his eyebrows now arched a bit higher on his forehead.
   “Yes?” he asked.
   Tatum steeled her resolve and straightened her spine, hoping all six feet of her looked formidable to a man who probably crushed boulders with his bare hands. “If these drinks have a shot of pure vodka in them, then I’m the governor of Texas.”
   The bartender said something to the stranger then turned around and made his way to where Tatum stood. Her skin grew cold as she noticed the hint of a grin pull at the corners of his lips. How could a person look more intimidating with a smile on his face?
   “You saying I watered down your drinks?”
Though the music in the club was loud enough to vibrate through the floor and up her calves, she easily heard his deep bass voice. A tremor of fright added to the quaking in her legs. Scared or not, she’d started this and she wouldn’t stop until she had two cocktails to her liking.
   “I’m saying there’s no more alcohol in these glasses than there is in the Colorado River down the street.” Allowing the full impact of her feelings to give her strength, she took a step closer and pressed her stomach onto the padded vinyl that trimmed the bar. “My friend spent a lot of money for these drinks and I aim to make sure we get what we paid for. So how about you taking that unopened bottle of vodka there on the back shelf and trying one more time?”
   The large bartender’s nose flared and the muscles in his thick neck and arms flexed. Before he had a chance to say a word, the man at the end of the bar spoke.
   “It’s okay, T. Do as the lady asks.”
   The big man shot her a look that could have frozen hell. “Fine. As the lady likes.” Without breaking his glare, he roughly grabbed two glasses and dropped them on the counter before reaching for the vodka.
   And just like that, the polished stranger in the fancy suit single-handedly shut down her attempt at blowing the steam she’d built up.
   In a perverse way, Tatum didn’t feel appeased. She might have gotten her way, but pumped-up energy still surged in her system. If only she could punch a wall or kick over a chair. She needed to do something, anything, to relieve her bottled-up tension and lock down the pheromones that unexpectedly decided to show up to the party.
   The good-looking man wasn’t making her struggle to calm down any easier. Over the stacks of papers littering the end of the bar, he stared at her, and not in a pleasing way. He appeared amused, almost smug, as though she had just provided his evening’s entertainment.
   She pushed her attraction aside and allowed her irritation to hitch a half notch.
   “Are you the manager here?” she asked, making her way down to the end of the bar.
   He punched the end of the pen he held and tossed it onto an open file. “I guess you can say I am. Is there a problem?”
   His tone sounded a little too bored for her liking. He might not be hard to look at, but he had pompous ass written all over him. “As a matter of fact there is. Have you taken a good look at this place lately? It’s a dump. The lighting sucks, the dancers aren’t good-looking and couldn’t dance to save their souls, and the bartender is serving lousy drinks.”
   He tilted his head. “You don’t say.”
  His prissy, holier-than-thou attitude provided just the spark she needed to stay ignited. “Yes, I do say. You should be ashamed of yourself and this place. It’s the worst club in Austin.”
   “And yet you’re here.”
    "I—” Tatum started, but faltered in the wake of his unexpected retort. She blinked several times, too flustered to speak. Weren’t managers supposed to be nice to their customers? Even rich, snobby managers?
   The stranger stood and Tatum’s gaze continued up until her head tilted back. Powerfully built, he not only stood several inches taller than her, he dominated the space around her. Though he might not be as humongous as the bartender, he radiated a fierce but intelligent intensity that commanded her attention. Here was a man used to getting what he wanted.
   “You think someone else can do better?” he asked.
   Her mouth watered as she watched the play of muscles behind his snug shirtsleeves and listened to the deep voice that poured over her like warm molasses. Good Lord, the man was virile.
   Not permitting herself to be influenced by intimidation or lust, she raised her chin and said the first thing that came to her mind. “I think a drunk monkey could do better.”
   “You looking for a job?”
   Her mouth fell open at his audacity. She might be fast on the uptake, but he was faster and better.
   Perturbed, Tatum planted her fists on her hips. “You calling me a drunk monkey?”
* * * * * * * * * *
Iron Rods
Strip Club Series, Book 1.
By Brenna Zinn

ISBN  9781419947179
Book Length:     Novel
Publisher:  Ellora's Cave Publishing Inc.
* * * * * *
Brenna Zinn Bio and Contact Information

I remember reading about Texas in an Illinois grade school and thinking I probably would never see the great state where real cowboys ride their horses to work every day and everyone wears western hats and boots. Then again, I never dreamed I would elope in Gibraltar with a Navy man who hailed from the Lone Star state. But here I am, smack dab in the middle of Texas, still married to the same wonderful man and boasting not only the greatest daughter on the planet, but three dogs that are as big as long horns.

In between grade school and now, my journey through life has taken me all over the United States, as well as many places throughout the world. Using my travel experience as a guide and peppering in interesting characters I’ve met along the way, I love nothing better than weaving tales of romance and leaving readers yearning for adventures of their own.

Discover more about Brenna Zinn and her books at her website
On FaceBook at Brenna Zinn
At Twitter at @BrennaZinn
On GoodReads at Brenna_Zinn

And at the Iron Rods website: www.IronRods.NET

Monday, June 23, 2014

Desiree Holt does #giveaway to 1 who posts! Celebrates her newest

Welcome to Rawhide, the most exclusive private dungeon in San Antonio, Texas. If you’re lucky enough to be invited, you never know who you’ll run into there.

Spurred to Submission  is the 6th book in the series and takes a little different turn.

A Recommended Read from All Romance eBooks.

Be sure to leave me a comment. One lucky person will win a copy of Rawhide #1: Crack the Whip.

When the death of their fathers brings Zoe Hampton and Max Cameron back to Big Spur, she hopes for two things—to show the hot shot New York lawyer she’s not a little girl anymore and the ranch he hates could actually ease the pain of the past. She’s got her work cut out for her on both accounts, and she doesn’t know whether to kick Wade into next week or jump his bones.
Wade hates the ranch almost as much as he hated his father, and the only reason he’s home is to bury one and sell the other. But the old man’s will puts a hitch in Wade’s plans. Zoe spurs the Dom in him to take her over his knee for a spanking they’ll both enjoy. Even finding release at a private BDSM club becomes impossible.…until the night Zoe follows Wade to Rawhide.

“Will tells me we’ve got a good crop of calves to brand this year.”
Wade’s voice behind her startled her out of her reverie and she lost her balance, tumbling into the pen. Before she could get to her feet he had climbed in beside her and stood looking down at her.
She spit dust from her mouth and glowered at him. “Aren’t you even going to offer to help me up?”
 He stared down at her then shocked her by lowering his body over hers, his legs bracketing her as he knelt in the dirt. His long fingers wrapped around her wrists, holding them down to either side of her head, imprisoning her in the dirt. His grip was so tight as to be painful, and it shocked her to realize that it gave her pleasure.
Wade bent low over her until his face was just inches away. His eyes darkened to the color of burnt chocolate again and a muscle ticked in his cheek. He wasn’t as unaffected as he wanted her to think. That kiss yesterday might have been meant to frighten her, just as he was trying to do now, but it was very clear he was affected by it. Probably more than he wanted to acknowledge.
Instead of struggling Zoe lay on the ground beneath him, waiting to see what he’d do next.
“You know what I’d like to do to you, little girl?” he ground out.
“What?” The word came out in a breathy rush of air. “What would you like to do to me, Wade?”
“Things that would scare the shit out of you.”
He was holding her forcibly in place, apparently unaware she wasn’t attempting to get up. He was holding most of his weight on his knees so he didn’t crush her but she was essentially completely helpless. His crotch was practically at eye level and there was no mistaking the prominent bulge. Oh, yeah. He was as hard as she was instantly wet.
“You think so?” She licked her lower lip, seeing the heat flare in his eyes again and knowing she was pulling the tiger’s tail. “You might be surprised.”
He stared at her for so long she wondered if he ever planned to speak or move. Without warning he rose to his feet, pulling her with him. Imprisoning her wrists with one hand he swept her over his shoulder and stomped into the barn with her. Before she realized what he was doing he carried her into the tack room and slammed the door shut, sliding the bolt into place to keep it locked.
“Big talker,” he ground out. “Let’s see where that big talk gets you.”
Grabbing a coiled length of rope hanging on a peg he wound it around her wrists, tying it off and fastening the other end on a nail high up on the wall. Her arms were now stretched high over her head, forcing her to stand on tiptoe. Wade kept his gaze locked with hers as he worked, obviously watching for signs of fear or resentment or—who knew what. She knew she should be terrified, or at least alarmed. This might be Wade, who she’d known since she was born, but in the twenty years since she’d last seen him, who knew how much he’d changed? What he’d become? Her brain told her she should either demand he release her—or beg him. But her brain seemed to be disconnected from her body. The edge of fear crawling through her was wrapped in a blanket of suddenly exploding lust.
Who knew how much his control and dominance would turn her on? She could take this as far as he could.

Des says she will give away a copy of Rawhide #1, Crack the Whip, to one lucky commenter!

Sunday, June 15, 2014

THE EYES OF BAST, paranormal shapeshifter, by fabulous Lisabet Sarai

The Eyes of Bast by Lisabet Sarai is a fabulous, erotic paranormal/shapeshifter romance!

Trust your heart. Follow your dreams.

Shaina Williams' grandmother bequeathed her that wisdom, along with a old pendant from the Islands, carved from an ocelot's tooth. When instinct tells Shaina to visit the feral cat trap she'd set in Central Park, she listens to that inner voice, She discovers she's caged a magnificent black tom, but the cat inexplicably vanishes after she tends to his wounds. Seeking the errant feline, Shaina encounters instead a handsome stranger whose slightest touch sets her body on fire. As the day dawns after a night of ferocious passion, her mysterious lover is forced back into his true shape - the tomcat she'd rescued.  

Born a cat, Tom was transformed into an unwilling shape shifter by a sorceress who craved a human plaything to satisfy her perverse lusts. Centuries old and irresistibly powerful, Delphine Montserrat will stop at nothing to find her runaway familiar. Shaina vows to do whatever is necessary to defeat the vicious but seductive witch and save the man she believes is her soul mate – even though it might mean losing him forever.

Buy Links

Amazon US

Amazon UK

The Eyes of Bast was an experiment. I created the novella as a serial, writing and posting a chapter each month as part of my regular website update. I've never tried this approach before. Although I'm usually more of a plotter than a pantster, I had very little idea about what would happen next. Each month, I'd reread the previous installment, to help me maintain continuity, and then I'd just sit down and write whatever came to mind.

The process was remarkably liberating. I could set my imagination free.

The bulk of what I write is targeted for a particular publisher and often, a specific call for submissions. I usually have a predefined theme and both a minimum and maximum word count. These constraints shape my creative process. My internal editor is constantly active. Would the publisher object to this language? Was I taking too long to get to the clinch? Was my take on the theme close enough to satisfy the requirements?

With The Eyes of Bast, I was writing for my own pleasure – and of course that of my readers. The story could be as long (or short) as it needed to be. I could write sweet or raunchy, depending on my mood.  I could introduce plot twists as they occurred to me, without worrying too much about plausibility.

I was writing purely for the fun of it. What a novel concept!

I'm actually pretty pleased with the way the tale turned out. I especially like the dramatic ending, which borrows a bit from horror tales. And I'm delighted by the depths my villain ultimately revealed. I have a problem writing bad guys (or in this case, bad girls). Delphine Montserrat is one of my better evil-doers.

I hope my readers agree.

Excerpt – Rated PG

Tom finally broke the kiss and leaned back with a sigh. “Ah, Shaina! I should never have allowed you near me. But I was so very lonely... I wasn’t thinking straight. Now I’ve put you in danger too.”

“Danger? What kind of danger?” I reached over to flick the switch on my reading lamp, so I could read his expressions. Then I seated myself cross-legged at his feet and clasped his hands in mine. “Tell me, Tom. Tell me everything.”

“You will not believe me.”

“How could I not believe after – after what I saw this morning?”

His brows knotted together. “I never wanted you to see – I was careless...”

“But I did see. And now I know, at least something about you. But I don’t know enough to help you out of whatever trouble you’re in. Tell me the whole truth. I promise I’ll keep it private, if that’s what you want. And I promise I won’t be shocked.”

Tom’s lush mouth twisted in a grimace of disgust. “You might not be able to keep that promise. But never mind. You’ve asked. I’ll tell you.”

He stared off into the distance, above my head. “I was born in a small town in coastal Maine, about seven years ago.”

“Seven years...?”

“I was born a cat.”

I choked down my cry of surprise. How could it be...?

“Yes. I was born under a wharf. I spent the first six months of my life as a black kitten, a stray living off the scraps from the fishing boats and clam shacks. Then she caught me and made me her prisoner.”


“I don’t even want to utter her name. There’s danger in the very word. She is a witch, centuries old, a practitioner of the darkest arts – the epitome of evil. Out walking one evening along the rocky shore, she caught sight of me and wanted me as her familiar. It was easy for her to lure me into her clutches.

“At first she just used me to facilitate her spells. The rumored powers of black cats are more than just legend. Before long, though, she began to experiment.”

His ominous tone sent a chill through my naked body. I pulled the towel around me.

“You see, her advanced age hadn’t diminished her lust. Quite the opposite. She wanted a sexual plaything, someone she could use to satisfy her perverted desires. A male body she could own and control. So she delved into her books of magic, seeking a spell that would turn her poor innocent feline familiar into a man – at least when she wanted him that way.

“Her first attempts failed.” Tom shuddered at the recollection. “She barely managed to save my life. I guess she’d grown fond of me at that point – in her own twisted way.”

“Oh, Tom...”

“Finally, she found a ritual that would change an animal into a human during the hours when the sun was banished from the earth. I’ll never forget the terror of that first transformation, when I found myself wobbling on two legs in front of her naked body. It was even worse than what came after.”

“What was that?”

“Oh, Shaina – I was human, but scarcely a man. I was barely thirteen.”
* * * * * *
About the Author

When I was a little girl, my dad would make up stories for my siblings and me, fabulous sagas about ghosts and monsters, magical races with mysterious powers, heroes on impossible quests, hidden treasures awaiting only the most courageous seeker. I blame him for my lifelong fascination with the magical and miraculous.

Now that I'm grown up, I create my own tales of wonder, weaving in generous portions of human desire with its potent enchantments. In my paranormal tales, love works the most powerful magick.

Find out more about me and my books at my website, Lisabet's Fantasy Factory ( and my blog Beyond Romance ( I also hang out on Goodreads ( and Amazon (  I also have a VIP readers email list where I share release and contest information and run exclusive monthly giveaways. To join, just email me: lisabet [at] lisabetsarai [dot] com.

Thursday, June 12, 2014

#sealsgoinghot now! NERO is out! Do you BURN for a #Navy #SEAL? BURNING FOR NERO out now!

Need a SEAL?

Of course, you do!

What is all the fuss about?

This book is:
  • SEALs
  • military
  • friends to lovers
  • unrequited love for more than a DECADE
  • a lady who needs multiple Os
  • ...and gets them!
  • a man who needs only one woman...and gets burned...then happy.
  • a child who wants a grown up male friend
  • a mother who wants a father for her child
  • a military family who love their kids, their neighbors and the job they do
  • a big July 4th Bash
  • a swimming accident
  • 110 pages that singe your fingers and your eyeballs
  • make your heart race
  • and other parts of your
  • Cuz you gotta read the book.
  • And if you need more convincing, go to yesterday's post for a LOOOOONG EXCERPT!
  • Then?
  • Lick your fingers. They're burnt.


And ARe:


Did you ever BURN for a man? BURNING FOR NERO tomorrow in #sealsgoinghot series!

#2 in SEALs GOING HOT series
On sale everywhere
Tomorrow everywhere! Nero burns you up! 

Navy SEAL Tony Nero, goes home for July 4th weekend to see his family and finds there the woman he has tried to forget for more than a decade!

On leave due to an injury, Navy SEAL Tony Nero heads home for a little R&R and some Fourth of July fun. When his buddy’s widow Cass Phillips picks him up at the air station, Tony figures he’s in for a sexually frustrating few days. He’s had the hots for the blonde siren for years, but his best friend won her heart first. Even though Ray’s been gone more than a year, Tony bets Cass isn’t interested in any man. Not him. And especially not another SEAL.

Cass has a bone to pick with longtime friend, Tony. After her husband died, he was the closest thing her little boy had to a father figure. His visits stopped abruptly and her son doesn't understand why. Neither does she. She's also unable to quench her growing need for the tough and tender man. She's already loved and lost one SEAL, but that doesn't stop her from burning for Nero.
Need a nibble of Cerise’s newest cherry?
Of course you do!
Copyright 2014, Cerise DeLand. All rights reserved.
Wild to leave, Cass headed through the French doors. Across the patio to the lawn, she sank in the lush grass. Catching herself time and again from turning an ankle, she strode toward the boathouse. She stayed there whenever she visited, not wishing to sleep in the room she and Ray had shared when Ray was alive. Jon still slept up at the main house with his grandparents, thinking it a vacation from Mommy and ordinary restrictions. Tonight, Cass needed the solitude the hideaway offered.
The moon was bright and she made her way quickly. She got to the steps before Tony’s hand grasped her wrist, the strength of the man she wished to escape halting her in her tracks.
“Stop. Cass, stop.”
“No.” No, she would not cry or beg or scream. She couldn’t demean herself like that. She took a step, but the giant in her path caught her against him. With just one arm, Tony could trap her.
Against his formidable body, against her better judgment, she wanted to simply stand there, never move.
He crushed her close, nearer than he ever had before, and she felt the power of his presence. His one good hand pressed her fully against him, then glided down her spine to press her hips to his. She caught her breath. He was hard. And he wanted her.
She turned to leave.
“Stay. Stay.”
She shook her head, her gaze beyond him. “Let me go, Tony.”
“I don’t want to.” He lifted her chin with his injured hand. “Look at me.”
Bravery was her forte. Hell, she’d been a warrior’s wife. To face this one was easy peasy. Right? She met his gaze.
Not the viper, not the seducer, not her friend, this man gazed down at her and absorbed her distress with sympathetic eyes. “You don’t want to go, either.”
“I couldn’t watch—” Oh, lord. Had she really blurted that? She was botching this.
“She came on to me, Cass.”
She stared at him, caught between delight at his words and regret at her. If she had more nerve, she could own up to wanting him. If she weren’t so stuck in her friendship rut, she could make a move on him. Was her pride more important than finding out if he could care for her as more than a friend?
“Listen to me.” He stroked the small of her back. “I didn’t encourage her. Why would I, Cass?” His last words were so raw, she barely heard them. But the sorrow in them thrilled her and she looked up at him again. “Why would I when I just want to be with you? Tell you how I loved your song and dance with Jon. Praise you and say you are the finest mother, babe. Why would I want to be with her when you’re the one I want to talk to? Huh? Tell me.”
She was speechless with joy.
He cradled her near him as if she were fragile china. The feel of him was heaven, like coming home to a safe place she’d never known existed. He dropped kisses to the crown of her hair and his gentleness stunned her so that she wrapped her arms around his waist and burrowed into him.
He groaned and stepped out of her embrace.
Unbalanced, she stumbled.
But he clasped her hand and pulled her along, striding like a mercenary on a mission toward the front door of her boathouse. At the threshold, he halted, dropped her hand and looked down at her, a muscle in his jaw jumping. “Invite me inside, Cass.”
An order, a metaphor, a plea. His words were all of them and she reveled in their potential. In one lunge, she swept open the screen door and pulled him inside.
He whirled her against the inside wall, pinning her there with his body and cupping her throat. “Tell me why I’m here.”
Words would be too much, too soon. She’d show him. She undulated against him, this man she had watched and wanted for months now. Wrapping her arms around him, she brushed her mouth against the corded column of his throat, nuzzling the hollow beneath his Adam’s apple. She parted her lips to taste the musk of his very healthy body. She rose on her toes, pulling him closer, nestling her puckered lips into the hollow beneath his cheekbones. She slid her mouth to his and he waited, still as stone, letting her lead.
Ah, god. She had hungered for this decadent taste of him for so long. She’d been so careful to tease apart her motives. Tony was kind, caring, no clone of Ray. No substitute either. She wanted him for his sweet, bad self. Could he want her because she was different from any other woman he took to bed? She paused to examine him.
“Don’t stop now. What’s in your eyes is too raw to be best friends with benefits.” He grabbed a fistful of her curls and yanked her head gently. “I won’t trespass. Our ties are too old, too strong. So, whatever I’m here for say it, or I’m leaving and we forget this ever happened.”
“Stay.” She took his mouth as if she were a dying woman, needing only the succor he gave. His lips were firm and willing. She grabbed him by the shirt, yearning to hold all of him, lose herself inside  him. “I want all of you.”
“Since when?”
“Months and months.”
Growling, he pressed flush against her from chest to thighs He seized her lips, bestowing sizzling kisses, grazing her tender flesh, scouring her mind. He sent his tongue inside the cavern of mouth and probed and plunged, fierce, claiming and testing. She mewled.
Breathless, he yanked away. “I’m hurting you.”
“No.” She curled her hands around his neck and drew his mouth once more to hers. “I need you to need me like that.”
“Christ, baby.” He sucked on her lips. “I’m trying not to gobble you up.”
“Damn. You’d better.”
He stopped, surprise living in his gaze, feral, dominant. This was that other Nero. Predator. Marauder. The sight of him in his splendor made her knees quiver. “What else can I do for you?”
When had any man ever asked her that? She licked her lips. “Multiple orgasms.”
He nodded, grinning. “Your wish is my command.”
Helpless joy flooded her. She’d grown so tired of Ray’s selfishness, she’d questioned any man’s desire to satisfy her in bed or out. The one man she had opened her legs for last year had turned out to be a total dud. All slap and tickle, full of sound and fury signifying nothing but meh. “You can deliver, huh?”
“Complain to me at any time,” Tony whispered with such utter compassion, that she realized he understood she lacked inspired loving. “One rule though,” he said against her mouth, his hand stroking her spine.
To have this man in her bed, inside her, this man to roll with and rock with? Oh, yes. Yes. “Name it.”
* * * * * * *

Wednesday, June 4, 2014

IRON RODS, Best Little Strip Club in Texas! Get it now by Brenna Zinn!

   Here’s a little secret about Austin, Texas that one might not know about unless you’re a lady actually living in or around Austin… Austin does NOT have a strip club for women.  Yes.  You read that right.  There are zero, nada, zip, zilch strip clubs for women in Austin, Texas.  Sounds crazy, I completely feel you, but it’s true. 

 I found this information out the hard way.  It was late, I was at a big birthday party for a girlfriend and we all decided that a trip down to the local strip club would be an excellent way to wrap up what had already been a pretty fabulous party.  After looking everywhere on-line for a club, we concluded we were SOL (shoot out of luck).  A true downer and quite a shocking surprise.  After all, Austin is a good-sized city loaded with women.  How could it be that the city would have several clubs for men to see women dancing, but none available for women?
From this experience, an idea was born.  Why not create a fictional strip club for women based in the heart of Austin – South Congress Avenue? Imagine the fabulous characters who can work in the club or visit the club, I told myself. Why, there would be enough characters and situations to write an entire series of stories!
   And I was right. There ARE loads of interesting characters and situations that I’ve invented for a new series, the Strip Club Series, from Ellora’s Cave Publishing.  
Iron Rods, the name of the fictional strip club, is the first book in the series. In this book the reader learns some of the back story behind the club, the club’s crazy owner, the owner’s estranged New Yorker son Bennett Truitt, and the Iron Rods staff.  But that’s not all.  Readers also see how the club changes from a rundown, hole-in-the-wall to a budding renewed club with the help of the book’s heroine, Tatum Reynolds.   
     For more information about Iron Rods, the Strip Club Series, how to get a FREE Iron Rods koozie, as well as author Brenna Zinn, check out the Iron Rods website.  www.IronRods.NET
   To buy the book from the Ellora’s Cave website, go to
Here’s a sexy little taste of the story…  
   He’d be a fool to walk Tatum inside and take a stab at the chance to bed her again. There was no future for them. They both had to know that. Making matters more complicated, this was her home. If he did sleep with her, what would come next? Most likely there would be an awkward scene where he thanked her for the marvelous fuck and left out any discussion about business. Then he would grab his clothes and make a quick exit.
  He couldn’t possibly stay the night. Doing so would suggest there was more to their relationship than he wanted her to believe. Definitely more than he was ready for. Yes, she was incredibly sexy and strangely entertaining. And yes, he felt so much at ease with her that he’d found himself dreaming up excuses to be around her. But a line had to be drawn somewhere. He wasn’t the kind of man who involved himself in relationships.    Relationships eventually lead to deep feelings. Deep feelings, he’d discovered the hard way, lead to heartache.
   Hadn’t he already had enough heartache to last a lifetime?
   “Want to come in for a drink?” she asked. “I don’t have any Scotch, but I have cold beer.”
Tatum had to know inviting him into her home meant more than just providing him a cool beverage. Before they finished their first drink, he would have her shirt off and her jeans unsnapped. After that, he wouldn’t stop until she lay spread-eagle on her bed, his mouth attached to the little nub of her clit where he would let his tongue flick until she shouted his name from pleasure.
    Was he a wild beast devoid of principals and decency? No. He might not have been born a gentleman, but he’d certainly been raised as one. He needed to allow her a way to reconsider her offer. It was the right thing to do. Plus he needed a moment to think carefully through his answer. His dick might be ready to accept her most generous overture, but that little brain had a tendency to get him into trouble more times than not. Look what a mess it had already landed him in.
   “A beer sounds great, but I don’t want to put you out.”
    “You won’t be putting me out at all,” she said, digging her keys out of her purse. “My roommate is in Houston for a few days, so it’s just me at the casa. I’d love to have your company.”
   Bennett’s nerve endings sizzled beneath his skin. The beating of his heart quickened and became irregular.
  Damn it all! He shouldn’t be considering going in her place. Doing so was wrong, wrong,   WRONG!
   His fingers tingled at the prospect of stroking her soft tan skin. A light tang of waterworks already filled his mouth in anticipation of kissing her lips, sucking her nipples and licking the sweet folds between her spread legs. If his ramrod-hard cock throbbed with any more force, the damn thing would tear through his slacks.
   He wanted her more than any other woman he’d ever had the pleasure of having sex with.    What did Tatum possess that inexplicably drew him to her?
   Bennett pulled the key from the ignition. “Then my company you shall have.”
   He would undoubtedly pile more regrets to his mounting list in the morning, but his body once again trumped his common sense. Tatum had given him a huge green light to proceed.    How could he resist?
   Tatum flipped the light switch once she opened the door to the townhouse. “Make yourself at home while I get the beers.” She tossed her purse on a table and then scurried off to the kitchen. “I’ll only be a second.”
   Although the place smelled slightly of smoke, it was clean and contained matching furniture. Much better than anything he’d anticipated. The second-hand couch and stained carpet he’d imagined didn’t exist. He frowned as he took a quick look around, not happy that his father might be right. Perhaps he did have a tendency to look down from his high horse and expect the worst of people, especially Texans. He was proud to be raised in a family of means and have high standards, but he couldn’t live with being a snob. Mean-spirited bullies who were better than everyone else were the types of people he’d had to deal with growing up. How had he let himself become one of them?
   Breezing into the living room with a longneck bottle in each hand, the flyaways from her ponytail framing her face, Tatum had never looked more beautiful. The simple V-neck T-shirt and jeans she wore accentuated her womanly curves. Red Western boots added length to her already long legs.
   To hell with the drinks. I want you now.
   As she drew close and handed him a beer, he plucked both bottles from her grasp and set them on the coffee table.
   “What are you—”
   Before she could finish her question, Bennett tugged her to him and covered her mouth with his. She still tasted of chocolate cupcake. With little effort, he parted her lips and swept his tongue over and around hers, picking up even more flavor from her earlier treat. Lord, but he was an absolute fool for chocolate, not to mention this tantalizing woman.
   He wrapped an arm around her waist and slid the other around her neck, then drew her tightly against the length of his body. Tatum groaned into his mouth and bright sparks flashed before his closed eyelids when her hip ground against his stiff cock.
   Without the benefit of sight, he raked his fingers through her pulled-up hair until he located the ponytail holder. Slowly and carefully, he slipped her long locks free. He repeated the process of combing her hair through his fingers, reveling in its softness. When his hand passed through the silky ends, he placed his palm on the curve of her back and then bunched the cotton fabric of her shirt in his grasp. A quick yank freed the T-shirt from the confines of her jeans.
   Rather than break their kiss to remove her top, he lowered his hand through the slight gap between her back and the band of her jeans. His fingers caught on what felt like a taut string. Following the thin strand, his hand found the narrow cleft between two round ass cheeks. He stretched his arm and the tip of his middle finger as far as he could, trying to reach into the depths of the warm crevice, but met disappointment. He settled for rubbing his palm over one tight globe and then the other before grabbing a satisfying handful of the tight flesh.
   She moaned, filling his mouth with a titillating low vibration and the delectable taste of sweet chocolate. His dick immediately responded by leaping behind his boxers.
   “Where’s your room?” he asked in a strained voice, tightening his grasp on her ass. After their earlier experience on the hard surface of a desk, no way he was going to fuck her on anything other than a comfortable bed tonight.
   Tatum nodded toward a hallway.
   “Take me there.”
* * * * * *
Discover more about Brenna Zinn and her books at her website
On FaceBook at Brenna Zinn
At Twitter at @BrennaZinn
On GoodReads at Brenna_Zinn

And at the Iron Rods website: www.IronRods.NET

Tuesday, June 3, 2014

The Marquis and The Mistress by best selling #Regency author, Dominique Eastwick out now!

Lord Simon James Winston, seventh Marquis of Breckinridge, can have anything he wants, except the woman he loves. After Chandra, his lover of two years, spurns his marriage offer, he does his best to forget her. When friends discussed the services of Madame Eve one night over cards, it seems like just the thing to get him over his heartbreak.
Mrs. Chandra Mallory wants nothing more than to marry her lord, but deep-hidden secrets threaten to destroy that dream. On a whim, the widow calls on the services of Madame, hoping a night of passion can help her move on.
Can one evening heal past hurts and concerns and help a marquis and his mistress realize true love is always worth the chance?

“What?” Shaking his head to clear the memories, he walked to the closed door at the other end of the room. He opened it and cursed upon seeing the large four-poster bed, draped in rich red-velvet bedding. Images of her stripped bare, her pale skin in contrast to the deep colors, hardened his cock. “It appears Madame Eve thinks of everything.”
“There is also a bathing chamber attached to that room.”
“Imagery I didn’t need.” Because if thinking of her naked in bed wasn’t enough, her in a warm bath certainly was.
She touched his shoulder. The simple gesture broke the small thread holding his self-control. Quicker than she could blink, he twisted and pulled her roughly into his arms. Claiming her mouth, he darted his tongue inside when she opened on a surprised gasp. He wound a hand around her waist and jerked her close so she felt how much he wanted her, while threading fingers into her hair, yanking at the pins holding it in its perfectly-coifed bun.
He waited for her to shove him away. Slap his face. Anything to give him a hint he had stepped over the line. But, with a deep moan, she circled her arms around his neck, drawing her small frame up for even closer contact. He deepened the kiss, backing her into the wall, tugging at the layers of fabric in her skirt and gathering them up past her hips. He placed his knee between her bare legs. The damned woman wore no undergarments.
The idea both angered and aroused him.
Buy Links
Barnes and Noble


Where you can Find Dominique
Twitter @dominieastwick

Hashtags. #houseoflords #regency #romance #shortstory #1nS

Meet the House of Lords 

The DUKE His Grace Wolfe Thane, Duke of Foxhaven (The Duke and the Virgin)
The MARQUIS Lord Simon James Winston, Marquis of Breckinridge (The Mistress and the Marquis)
The EARL Lord Andrew Masterson, Earl of Windenshire (The Earl and the Virgin Countess)
The VISCOUNT Lord Jonathon Railey, Viscount of Aunton (The Viscount and the Heiress.)