Monday, December 31, 2012

Celebrate the New Year with the Napa Valley Naughties


Announcing the first release of the Napa Valley Naughties by Sonia Hightower
Ladies Uncorked
There’s a reason the room on the ladies only wine tour is so cheap… There’s only one bed!
But it’s big enough for three…

Blurb:
Girls just wanna have fun and what better way to do that than a weekend wine tour? Rozella needs a break from caring for her mother and her friend Nicole is newly single and in need of a respite from her own troubles.
Their eagerness turns to mild dismay, however, when they discover they got a great deal on a fancy hotel room only because they’re apparently sharing a bed...a bed big enough for three. Will they make use of it? They may have a willing bedmate in the form of a sexy tour guide. But first, they must uncork their inhibitions.
Excerpt:

His gaze perused first Nicole, then Rozella, the glint in his eyes appreciative. Rozella busied herself pouring him a glass of wine. She willed her hands not to shake as she offered him the glass. “You’ve been left out of the festivities. I’m sure you’d like to make up for it now.”
He accepted the glass with a twitch at the corners of his mouth. “Yes, I assume I will.” He watched her as he took his first sip. Rozella saw the moisture of the wine on his lips and fought the urge to lick them. But then again, what was stopping her? Isn’t that what he was here for? Did they really want to waste time with their life stories?
As Nicole led him to the bed and sat down with him, her own wine glass in hand, Rozella decided not. They weren’t interested in life stories tonight. The sexual tension in the air was palpable.
She grabbed her own wine glass and gulped greedily, watching as Nicole set her own aside to place one hand on Blake’s thigh and one on his back, leaning in close. The whitish-gold liquid stung her throat and caused her eyes to tear. She wasn’t used to drinking so quickly, and the wine from Vespera’s was more potent than a store bought vintage.
Nicole and Blake were whispering to each other, smiles lighting their faces. Rozella set her glass down, grabbed the wine bottle, and approached them. She gestured to Blake’s empty glass as she held the bottle out. “More?”
“No.” He grinned, set his glass on the nightstand, and rose to stand before her. His chest was almost touching hers. Her nipples hardened beneath the material of her dress. “Maybe after,” he murmured right before he caught her mouth with his own.

Available on Amazon and Secret Cravings Publishing.


And there's a contest. :-) Be sure to check out the other blog sites for another chance to enter. 

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Wednesday, December 19, 2012

Amber Kallyn's Birthday Bash

 http://wp.me/p10Tqd-p2
Welcome to Amber Kallyn’s Birthday Bash. We’ve got some great giveaways for you to win!


I love the holidays, but not necessarily having my birthday fall smack dab in the middle of them, LOL. But this year, I’d like to do something special for my readers. Over 25 authors and bloggers have come together to celebrate my 24th birthday (I won’t mention how many years I’ve turned 24 again ;)

We have some wonderful prizes, and all you have to do is leave a comment at the participating blogs to win. Easy.

And don’t forget, Bloodstorm (Heart of a Vampire, Book 1) is currently free right now for an early present : )


Grand Prize

One commenter will win their choice of a NOOK Simple Touch™ with GlowLight or a Kindle Paperwhite (Upto $140 value)

Ebooks from the following Authors
            Paloma Beck            (Coming Home, Contemporary romance)
            Jami Grey                  (Shadow’s Edge and Shadow’s Soul, Urban fantasy)
            Zrinka Jelic               (Paranormal romance)
            Christine Fairchild   (An Eye For Danger, romantic suspense)
            Marian Lanouette    (If I Fail, Mystery)
            Sylvia Hubbard        (5 Ebooks)
            Kenra Daniels          (Safe Heart and Kassern, Paranormal romance)


A $40 Gift card to either Amazon or B&N

Plus, there will be giveaways at some of the other blogs : )


How to win
The contest is open from Dec 19th to Saturday the 22nd. Hop to all the blogs. The winner will be chosen from the commenters on all participating blogs. Leave a comment at each blog for additional entries to win. That simple : ) Winner will be drawn on Sunday the 23rd.
Enjoy meeting new authors and book bloggers, and good luck on winning the Birthday Bash Prizes.
Blogs

Saturday, December 15, 2012

The Tide Breaker Spotlight with Sonya Watson


Blurb: Once upon a time, there was a sixteen year-old girl that lost both her parents under unusual circumstances. Abrianna was lonely and found some comfort in the arms of her boyfriend, Michael. Life turned grim when she realizes that a man, who was once the enforcer of fate, wanted her to die. The disgraced enforcer had taken great steps to ensure Abrianna’s death and planned to do this by enlisting the help of humans and creatures without their knowledge. Evil had washed over the land the humans named Dainesville. Abrianna had the power to heal the land and when she did she would return prosperity to the lives of the townspeople. When the time came for Abrianna to stand alongside her half-brother, Stephen, to fight the coming evil she did so without hesitation. Life ended. Darkness fell. Love faded. The End?






Author Bio: Sonya was born in Mandeville, Manchester, Jamaica but moved to Canada eleven years ago. She discovered writing when she was eleven. However, was unable to pursue it since she lived in a country where writing was impractical. She rediscovered the art during third year at York University. Kinesiology, the program she was enrolled in, was no longer simulating and found herself questioning her purpose in life. This led her to poetry and poetry led her to writing novels.

Thursday, December 13, 2012

An Affair Across Time Square


An Affair Across Times Square – Book One
 Layla Morgan is tired of getting into trouble, and getting hurt. And she fears her wild nature is going to strike yet again. But maybe this time, she’s finally met the guy that can stand close enough to touch her inner flames, and not get burned. 
Tyler Lachlan doesn’t stand a chance of resisting the delicious distraction of the mystery woman across Times Square. He’s sure there’s more to her than her sultry voice and mahogany thighs, but he doesn’t know if he’s willing to risk his career to find out.  
Could what began as a voyeuristic affair across Times Square develop into something more? 

Author’s Bio
Rachell Nichole is saucy mama who writes Sizzling Romantic Entanglements. She is the author of An Affair Across Times Square, Spicy with a Side of Cranberry Sauce, and A Marietta Wedding. Rachell lives in New York with a mountain of books, a loving family, and an evil cat named Godiva that she adores.

Excerpt:
An Affair Across Times Square: From Chapter Two 
Layla froze as he came back into view.
Gorgeous. A trim goatee covered his square jaw, making him look distinguished. She’d never thought Times Square was so big and small at the same time. Before, she hadn’t really thought of it at all except with some barely concealed disdain. She watched as he went about what appeared to be normal business, his thick shoulders bunching with every movement. He shuffled a few papers on his desk, sat down, and fiddled with his computer. Not once did he look out his window again. Layla ignored the sinking feeling at his lack of attention.
She refused to open the curtain the rest of the way and try to entice him, as much as she wished to. Because this could be almost as dangerous as another affair with a married man. So she contented herself with watching him until he looked up. Her breath caught in her throat. He shook his head and returned to his work. Could he feel her watching him? He glanced at her again. Could he see her watching him? She held his gaze through the half-inch gap in the fabric and waited, holding her breath until he looked down again. She dropped the curtain.
Her plan to release some steam and settle down had been blown to shreds, because now her stomach was knotted with the what-ifs. The soft carpet against the backs of her thighs tickled, urging her to move. Her body still felt too sensitive, too aroused. She needed to shower and get her head screwed on straight. And stay as far away from her window as possible until she figured out what to do.
Grabbing the edge of the table, Layla pulled herself up and slid off her high heels, using the solid surface beneath her fingers for support. She walked on shaky legs through the living room and kitchenette area, then into her bedroom and to the bathroom, refusing to look back and steal a glimpse. Thank God the curtains in the bedroom were closed too. She set her glasses on the sink. Had he been as turned on as she was?
She closed herself into the bathroom. Mulling over the ideas in her head, she rolled down her black thigh-highs one at a time. Maybe she could leave her curtains open tomorrow morning when she got home just to see what would happen. He probably wouldn’t even be there. She didn’t know whether to be relieved or disappointed about that. She shook her head, deciding it didn’t matter.
After unhooking her bra, she tossed it and her panties in the corner with the rest of her dirties. The maids must love me. Though, of course, they did, and she knew it. They’d told her before that they didn’t mind taking care of her, and for that she was grateful. She turned on the hot water and stepped into the shower. She let the heat seep into her muscles and relax her shoulders. Sitting down in the tub, Layla grabbed the stopper and let the showerhead fill the basin with water. She lay back until the water covered her stomach, all the while trying to decide if she should give in to her wild nature and torture Mr. Times Square.

Tuesday, December 11, 2012

Taking a Chance on Love


First of all, thanks to W. Lynn Chantale for sharing her blog with me today! 
Many of us have had our hearts broken, either by a long-ago love or a more recent one. But what do you do once that happens? Some women might decide to make their ex's life miserable. For example, leaving nasty messages on their old love's answering machine or driving by his house to see if another woman's car is parked there. But that kind of behavior can leave a woman in trouble with the law and is definitely not recommended. It's not a great idea to set oneself up to be the subject of the next episode of Snapped. 
Some women turn their anger and sadness inward and may end up over-indulging in Pepperidge Farm Milano cookies, Little Debbie snack cakes and pints of Ben & Jerry's (New York Super Fudge Chunk is my favorite). Even worse, some ladies turn to alcohol "to drown their sorrows." Again, bad idea. These women are only hurting themselves in the long run.
They say the best thing to do, once you've fallen off the horse, is climb right back on again.  In other words, the best way to get over an old love is to find a new one.  The heroine of my erotic romance Uncollared is trying to get back on that horse herself.
Not that she's looking for love. No, that's the last thing on her mind. She's hurt and angry after her Dominant, Philip, ends their relationship. She knows she'll never love any man the way she does Philip, but also realizes that she can't mourn him forever. When another Dom, Chess, makes her an offer, she decides to continue exploring her submissive nature while keeping her heart safe.
Here's a bit more about the book:


Submissive Mia Manetti is devastated when her first Master uncollars her just as she was hoping for a permanent relationship with him. Trying to move on, she agrees to sub for a powerful and sexy new Dom.
Chess Ryan has wanted Mia from the first moment he saw her at Club Restraint, but it was always "hands off" because she belonged to his friend Philip. Now, thanks to that friend's maneuvers, Mia is finally his. But only for a little while.
Mia finds it increasingly difficult to keep her feelings in check as she experiences erotic delights with Master Chess, sensual and sexual fantasies that she's never known before. Is she setting herself up for another heart ache?
Guilt, secrets and misplaced pride all keep Chess and Mia from being completely honest with each other. As they connect sexually and emotionally, they realize their relationship has grown too serious to be called "play". How far are they willing to go as Master and slave?

Mia has no intention of letting her heart get broken again. But she finds it very hard to resist her new Dom's charms. Can she keep her emotions separate during all the sexy adventures they share? 
Erotic excerpt:
He sat up and pulled the shirt over his head with her assistance. “Now you,” he said, unbuttoning her blouse and divesting her of the bra. Leaving her nude.
She wriggled a bit farther down his body, straddled his thighs, and unzipped his jeans. No need to ask the ultimate question—boxers or briefs?—because there was nothing at all between the denim and his hot, eager cock. Already hard, it grew even harder and larger as she trailed her fingers down the shaft. Mia swirled her finger around the head, smoothing a bead of precum into his silky flesh.
She wanted to get both hands in there, massage his balls while she held his cock, but there wasn’t enough room. She raised herself to her knees and tugged at his jeans. Chess lifted his ass to let her pull them lower on his thighs. With a sigh, Mia sank down on his legs, inhaling the musky scent of his arousal.
She took her time fisting his cock, enjoying the way his smooth skin moved fluidly over his steely hardness. With her other hand she caressed his sac, gently rolling his balls until they grew tight and drew up close to his body.
Chess grasped her hand. “Enough. I don’t want to go off too soon.”
The thread of need in his raspy voice pleased Mia, and her lips curved in a little smile of satisfaction. He was enjoying this. Though she was the submissive, tormenting him like this made her the powerful one.
She leaned forward and kissed the middle of his hairy chest. She kissed his left nipple. Then she nipped it.
“Umph!” He lightly smacked her ass, then rubbed it. “Bad girl.”
Mia smiled. She enjoyed being bad.
Let’s see if I can be worse still.
She draped her arm over the edge of the sofa and lifted the carton of vanilla ice cream, now melted. Little by little she drizzled the creamy liquid onto him in her best impression of Jackson Pollock. Chess’s torso became her canvas, the spoon her paintbrush. The “paint” adorned his chest in aimless swirls and squiggles.
Mia rested on her haunches to admire her artwork. Chess gazed at her, his eyes glittering, heavy-lidded. His lips were full and rosy, as though he’d been kissed. Lust shot through Mia like an arrow heading straight to her pussy. She wanted to kiss those lips, lick them, bite them.
But he hadn’t invited her to. So she would simply content herself with the rest of him.
What Mia doesn't realize is that Chess has a secret, one that could destroy their relationship just as it's starting up. As her feelings for him deepen, Mia has to decide how much she wants him, and if she cares deeply enough to risk her heart to keep him.
That's what we all must ultimately decide—are we going to let a past hurt keep us from loving again? Most of us, fortunately, decide to move forward and give love another chance.  And most of us are glad we did.
Thanks so much for hosting me today!
Nona Raines
Hot Contemporary Romance
Edgy ~ Emotional ~ Erotic
www.nonaraines.com

Saturday, December 8, 2012

The Lawman's Librarian by Rebecca Brochu

Blurb:  
When Sheriff Nick Grey is talked into playing Santa at the local mall by his devious sister Lana he fully expects to have a miserable time.  What he doesn’t know is that Lana has convinced Peter DeKell to play one of his elves.  Peter’s the town’s librarian and the object of Nick’s affection since they were both children.  The only problem is that while the entire town knows that the Sheriff is head over heels for the quiet librarian, Peter seems at best oblivious and at worst not interested.  

After being faced with the temptation of Peter in tights Nick finally breaks down and asks Peter to dinner and is elated when he accepts.  When disaster strikes in the form of an ill-timed kiss Nick has to make a choice.  Is he willing to finally give up on being with Peter?  Or will the lawman fight for his librarian’s affections?

Teaser Excerpt:  
He tastes better than Nick had ever imagined, salty but not too bitter, and he still smells like soap and fresh clean skin.  Nick sucks slow and hard, his mouth sliding up and down Peter’s shaft in an easy rhythm while his tongue swirls around and across the head of his cock, pausing every now and again to dip into his slit and wiggle slightly.  Peter’s moaning and thrashing, trying to buck his hips up but unable to escape the iron grip Nick has on his hip.
Nick just loses himself in the act, in the taste and feel of Peter hard and throbbing in his mouth, in the knowledge that he finally has him where he’s always wanted him.  Peter’s panting and calling his name above him and tugging gently at his hair in warning, but Nick ignores it.  He wants Peter to come, wants to taste it, to have him lose control inside of his mouth with the knowledge that Nick was the one who drove him to such extremes.
Peter comes hard and suddenly across his tongue, and Nick swallows it down and keeps sucking.  He cleans Peter with his tongue, makes sure to get every drop there is and then keeps going until Peter is tugging at his hair harder, his cock too sensitive for what Nick’s doing.
He finally pulls off, but he doesn’t really give Peter a chance to recover.  Instead he grabs him by the hips and flips him over onto his stomach so he can spread him open and press his tongue against his hole.  The normally tightly furled muscle is loose from Peter’s orgasm and Nick just presses inside ruthlessly.  Peter moans low in his throat and squirms, but this time he’s pressing back into Nick’s mouth instead of trying to escape.
He fucks Peter slow and steady with his tongue, bites gently at his rim just to feel him jump and twitch, and then slides a finger in alongside his tongue just to hear him whine high in his throat.  Nick keeps going, adds another finger and then another, licks around them and between them, loosens Peter up for his cock because he wants nothing between them, not even the slick slide of lube.
“Nick.  Nick, please, please I’m ready.  I’m ready, Nick.  I want it, I want it, come on, Nick, please. Give it to me.  Come on, come on, come on!”  Peter groans and presses farther back onto Nick’s tongue and hand, and Nick growls and pulls himself away slowly, like it’s painful to leave and it really kind of is.
“Fuck, Peter.  Fuck.  God, I can’t wait.  I can’t.”  Nick’s frantic now, his own cock is full and heavy, curving up towards his stomach and leaking desperately.


Thursday, December 6, 2012

A Ghost For Christmas be Kacey Hammell


After receiving a long weekend at an elegant hotel beside the majestic Niagara Falls as a Christmas gift, Jodie Gibson is determined to do nothing but relax and enjoy the scenery. And, okay, just maybe meet someone who makes her toes curl.

Sebastian is sophisticated, tall, dark and gorgeous--everything a woman fantasizes about. But he's also an 18th century ghost. He haunts the halls of the hotel, seeking the one true love that can help him find peace… 



Excerpt © Kacey Hammell

As she peered into the reflective glass, a face appeared behind her. Jodie whipped around and fell back against the window. 
Oh my fucking God!
Before her, in what looked like a shimmering bubble, stood the most breathtakingly beautiful man she’d ever seen. Dressed in a white shirt and black pants, he had dark unruly hair and striking, magnetic blue eyes that held her in place.
Jodie blinked, uncertain, scared and breathless.
How was it possible? She’d read the newspaper clippings, yes, but it was unimaginable to think ghosts might actually walk among the living. 
Not everything made sense. She only believed in things that could actually be seen, felt and touched. This seemed surreal.
Stunned by the apparition before her, dressed in what looked like centuries-old clothes straight out of Esquire, he seemed to look straight through her, and his smile warmed her clear to her toes. Lord, she was in trouble. 
“Hello.” Soft and gravelly, his voice alone seduced her…all the way to her toes. Her body quivered and her center tightened. 
Whoa. What the hell am I thinking?  There’s a ghost in front of me and I’m ready to jump his bones. Not bloody likely.
“What are you doing here? Get out.  I don’t care who you are, you’re leaving, right now.” 
He frowned. “No need to be frightened.  I’ve been here for centuries.”
Jodie laughed, and not one to wilt like a scared little girl, stood tall. “This is all a joke.” She looked around, up and down, and all over the room. “Are there hidden cameras somewhere?  Hey, Ashton, if you’re behind the camera, you can come out now.  I’ve been Punk’d good. Thanks and all, but I’d like to get on with my evening without you.”
 “Who is this Ashton? What is a punk?  A rake, perhaps?” he asked.
Jodie squinted.  “A rake?”  She hadn’t ever heard that term spoken, but had read it in historical romances. No one talked like that these days. “No. Never mind, it’s not important. Listen, I just want you to go. I want to enjoy my evening.”
His smile was gentle. “I’m sorry, my dear, but this evening every decade is the only time I am visible to the human eye. I never miss a chance to watch the Falls.”
Every decade…
“You’re telling me you do this every ten years? How old are you?”
“I was born in 1781. That makes me—”
“Two hundred thirty-one,” Jodie whispered, legs weak. She grabbed the back of the chair nearby and sat down. Were such things even possible?
Jesus. 
An eighteenth century ghost stood before her. 
Merry Christmas to me. 


Available at…



Readers can learn more about Kacey’s books/contact her via …




Wednesday, December 5, 2012

Meet Michaela Winters


Good Day fans and readers of Decadent Decisions. I’m very pleased to be here today. W. Lynn Chantale asked that I fill in for her as she’s been, uh well, detained at this time. Let me introduce myself, I’m Michaela Winters, Mike to my friends. My story, Winters’ Thaw, releases this Friday from Evernight Publishing.

I’m a well known defense attorney in Genesee County and after this last case, I’m looking forward to having time away from court and all the fun that goes along with it. Thankfully my vacation coincided with the holidays.

Lynn did ask if I had any holiday traditions, well I don’t have many. I didn’t have the best home life and celebrating things like Christmas was just another reason for my family to get twisted.

That’s why I was hoping to start a few new traditions with my husband, Brock Logan. He’s the strong, silent, overprotective type and generally will drive me crazy keeping me safe, but I know he loves me...well maybe. Things haven’t been that great between us and that’s probably why he decided we needed to spend the holidays at our cabin in Northern Michigan. He did the whole nine, tree, presents, but there was one thing he forgot to tell me. Someone is trying to kill me. Well I have a surprise or two for my husband. He’ll just have to wait for Christmas day.



“Are you sure we’re stuck here?” This was not the way she envisioned spending her two weeks away from court. Her last case had been grueling and she’d only won on a technicality, but knowing she had time to recharge before she went back to defending the sometimes guilty and unjustly accused innocent eased the sting of the almost loss. Having to spend the next several days with Brock Logan...well she’d rather be in contempt of court.
Warmth enveloped her back. She stiffened. When had he moved? The crisp scent of his soap and masculinity teased her senses. She bit her lip against the moan of pleasure. One of the things she always liked about him was he didn’t wear cologne just the natural musk God gifted him.
Now he’d trapped her between the heat of his hard body and a cold window, her scooped-neck tee insufficient barrier to both. She closed her eyes as he shifted and his arm circled her waist. Desire simmered in her veins and dampened her panties.
“You heard the officer. The roads are closed,” he murmured near her ear.
His breath tickled the delicate shell, sending shivers of want to her nipples. They puckered painfully beneath her shirt. She tried to move closer to the window, only he held her more firmly against his unyielding frame.
“That doesn’t mean you should invade my personal space.”
He chuckled. The low sound wrapped around her like warm fudge. She wanted nothing more than to hear him laugh in the confines of a bedroom while they were both naked and sweaty. She tamped down on the thought, but his solid physique at her back and the bulge wedged against her buttocks conjured all sorts of naughty images.
His lips feathered over the exposed skin just below her ear. Need ignited and blazed a fiery path from tit to clit. She locked her knees to keep the ache in check. As if sensing her state, he cupped her breast and his thumb circled the taut nipple through her shirt.
She couldn’t stop the moan of pleasure from easing between her lips.
“I plan on doing a lot of that while we’re here,’ he whispered.
With great effort, she wrenched from his arms and stared at his reflection in the glass. Was she so easy that a few caresses and some kisses could muddle her brain? This man ruined a case for the greater good, nearly destroyed her career, not to mention wedged a nice little chink in their relationship. Michaela couldn’t let her traitorous body dictate to her heart, no matter how wanton he made her feel.
She drifted her gaze over him. He was rugged, all sharp edges and rough planes. Sandpaper would only refine and hone his persona. He needed someone soft yet strong enough to withstand his arrogance. Why she ever thought she could maintain a relationship with the man and remain unscathed spoke more to her belief in love and romance rather than the logic of them as a couple. What a fool she was.
Still, the man was absolutely gorgeous. Average height, but she loved to run her fingers over his taut, chiseled muscles.  This time her pulse leapt in response. No use in thinking like that. There was no way she was going to let him get that close again, at least not for a long while. She scanned the room. Logs for the fire were piled next to the hearth, the kitchen was well stocked and when they arrived, Logan hadn’t brought anything into the cabin other than their bags. That meant...


Tuesday, December 4, 2012

Some Are Sicker Than Others by Andrew Seaward



In A.A. they say to wait at least a year before entering into a relationship, the idea being before you can love someone else, you must first learn how to love yourself. But what if loving yourself just isn’t possible? What if in order to love yourself, you must first know that you can be loved? 
During a mandated recovery, Monty Miller, a young, suicidal alcoholic, falls deeply in love with a cocaine addict named Vicky, who offers him a reprieve from his life of self-sabotage. Against his sponsor’s warnings, Monty hinges his entire recovery on Vicky, believing he can stay sober for her rather than doing it for himself. But when Vicky is killed in a hit-and-run on their way home from a meeting, Monty is forced to confront the truth; he didn’t really love her. He was just using her as a way to cope without alcohol.  
Filled with the guilt of this revelation, Monty embarks on a mission to drink himself to death. But, his family intervenes and has him committed to Sanctuary, a rehabilitation facility high in the foothills of the Rocky Mountains. There he meets Dave Bell, a former all-American track star turned narcissistic crack addict, and the driver responsible for Vicky’s death. 
Can Monty forgive Dave for his unspeakable atrocity and finally find the courage to forgive himself? Or will he follow his addiction to its inevitable conclusion, using self-pity and blame as excuses to give up on life?
Based on the author’s own personal experience with substance abuse and addictive relationships, SOME ARE SICKER THAN OTHERS transcends the clich├ęs of the typical recovery story by exploring the incomprehensible demoralization of addiction and the thin, blurred line between codependence and true love.   


Author Bio:
Name a hospital in Pennsylvania; I’ve been there. A rehab in Texas; I’ve stayed there. I’ve been strapped down to hospital beds, thrown into drunk tanks, and locked in padded rooms no bigger than a broom closet. I’ve woken up on railroad tracks, passed out on park benches, and even slept in a dumpster once because I was too drunk to realize what it was. And for what? A moment of numbness, a flicker of tranquility? No. I realize now, that the reason I drank was because I was too afraid to admit who I really was. I’m an artist. A storyteller. A writer. An author. It took me a long time to finally admit this, and now that I have, I can’t stop. 
My debut novel, SOME ARE SICKER THAN OTHERS, takes you on a hellish journey inside the diseased mind of the addict. From a codependent alcoholic wracked by an obsession to drink himself to death to a former all-American track star turned washed-up high school volleyball coach with a dependency on crack…the characters in my novel will haunt, taunt, and challenge your preconceived notions of what it means to be an addict or alcoholic. Some of you will laugh, some will cry, others will see themselves in the characters’ lives. Either way, I hope you enjoy the story, because, in the end, it’s not only my story…it’s everybody’s. 
Do you have a tag line: I used to think I was a pretty sick person. Then my parents sent me to drug & alcohol rehab in Anaheim, CA. There I learned a universal truth about addicts and alcoholics; though we may all be sick…Some Are Sicker Than Others. 

Excerpt: 
“It was a beautiful night. The moon was out and the stars were shining, like diamonds impregnated in a coal-black sky. What a wonderful night to be clean and sober. What a wonderful night to be alive. To think, all he had to do was quit drinking and he could’ve felt like this his entire life—no more shaking, no more seizing, no more getting up to puke in the middle of the night. If he’d just listened to his parents and stopped a little sooner, he could’ve avoided all those years of suffering and pain. All those nights of lying face down in a puddle of his own blood and urine, praying for God to come and take him away, his hands around a bottle, his head above the porcelain, and that sick, vile poison bubbling inside his veins. Those trips to the emergency room in some random state hospital just so he could get pumped full of fluids and strapped down to a bed, while nurses with bad breath, bad hair, and bad makeup stuck a tube down his dick just so he could pee. Christ, what a fucking nightmare. Thank god it was finally all over. Thank god he finally found a way to stay clean.” 

Monday, December 3, 2012

In the Hot Box with Brock Logan



Hi All. I had the opportunity to interview one of my newest characters, Brockridge Logan, from Winter’s Thaw coming Dec. 7 from Evernight Publishing. He asked me to meet him at his place of employment, the U.S. Marshal office. I’m not a big fan of government building. I can’t bring my cell phone inside and these places are so poorly lit I’m literally blind for the first five minutes after I enter. The security guard got a little snippy with me, until I showed him my cane. 
Anyway I’m having a little trouble locating Deputy Logan at the moment. *peers around the large waiting area* An official seal is on the aged tiled floor and metal detectors cover the entrances. As I stand trying to collect my bearing and give my eyes time to adjust two men approach.
“W. Lynn Chantale?” One says. He stands in the only available light, so I can’t see his face.
“Uh, yeah.”
“You got identification.”
I reach in my pocket for my license and both move a hand to their hip. “Relax, you asked for ID and I’m trying to comply.” Once my identity has been verified yet again, the goon squad escorts me to a windowless room. Before I can blink they have me handcuffed to a chair.
“Really? I usually get names and dinner before the relationship goes to kink.” Great. Just great. This is what I get for creating big bad government characters. I lift my arm, setting the chains to rattling. “Seriously is this necessary?”
“They stay on until I determine if you’re a threat.”
Wait. I know that voice. The two men exit the room. The door snapping shut has a ring of finality to it. Clothing rustles and a man...well muscled man emerges from the shadows. I’m such a sucker for a man in a suit and his is tailored to accentuate all his assets.
“A threat. Pu-leeze,” I scoff. “Half the time I run into the walls in my own hallway. Who have I allegedly threatened, Brock?”
“Michaela Winters.”
I sit back in my chair, the cold metal resting against the back of my hand. “Is this because you were dangling over a balcony?”
He crosses his arms. I try not to sigh in appreciation when the fabric moves with him.
I arch a brow. “So you’re mad?”
“These are very serious allegations, W. Lynn.”
I shrug. “That’s fine, but the longer you keep me here, the longer you dangle over a balcony, or get shot at, or maybe never find Michaela.” I lean forward and look him in the eye. “Remember how long it took to get you two together the first time?”
He nods, a speculative gleam in his honey-brown eyes.
“I can delete that whole scene or better yet not write the ending at all.”
He grabs the chair across from me, flips it around and sits folding his arms on the metal back. “If that’s the case, then I’ll just keep you here, until you see things my way.” A long pregnant silence fills the room. 
Each tick of the clock on the wall is audible. Faint voices drift through the door as footsteps shuffle past. Sweat trickles between my shoulder blades. Did I mention it was hot in here too? I resist squirming in my chair beneath his scrutiny. I will not be bullied.
The chair squeaks as he stands. The metal legs scrape against the cement floor as he returns it to its correct position. “Perhaps some time alone will help sway you.” He crosses the room.
“Could I at least get a bottle of water while I wait?” I holler as he exits and the door closes. I glance at the shackles on my wrists. I really need to stop writing characters with handcuffs.


Blurb:
The holidays can be murder. Someone is out to kill Michaela Winters, but she has more important things to worry about, arguing with her husband and when to tell him he’s going to be a father come to mind.
Brockridge Logan realizes the mistake he’s made and he’s willing to make amends. His solution is to whisk her away to their cabin up north where he can seduce and keep her safe.
When an ice storm closes the roads and traps them in the middle of nowhere for the duration of the holidays. A marriage will be mended, but will it be too late with a killer on the loose.

Excerpt:
“Are you sure we’re stuck here?” This was not the way she envisioned spending her two weeks away from court. Her last case had been grueling and she’d only won on a technicality, but knowing she had time to recharge before she went back to defending the sometimes guilty and unjustly accused innocent eased the sting of the almost loss. Having to spend the next several days with Brock Logan...well she’d rather be in contempt of court.
Warmth enveloped her back. She stiffened. When had he moved? The crisp scent of his soap and masculinity teased her senses. She bit her lip against the moan of pleasure. One of the things she always liked about him was he didn’t wear cologne just the natural musk God gifted him.
Now he’d trapped her between the heat of his hard body and a cold window, her scooped-neck tee insufficient barrier to both. She closed her eyes as he shifted and his arm circled her waist. Desire simmered in her veins and dampened her panties.
“You heard the officer. The roads are closed,” he murmured near her ear.
His breath tickled the delicate shell, sending shivers of want to her nipples. They puckered painfully beneath her shirt. She tried to move closer to the window, only he held her more firmly against his unyielding frame.
“That doesn’t mean you should invade my personal space.”
He chuckled. The low sound wrapped around her like warm fudge. She wanted nothing more than to hear him laugh in the confines of a bedroom while they were both naked and sweaty. She tamped down on the thought, but his solid physique at her back and the bulge wedged against her buttocks conjured all sorts of naughty images.
His lips feathered over the exposed skin just below her ear. Need ignited and blazed a fiery path from tit to clit. She locked her knees to keep the ache in check. As if sensing her state, he cupped her breast and his thumb circled the taut nipple through her shirt.
She couldn’t stop the moan of pleasure from easing between her lips.
“I plan on doing a lot of that while we’re here,’ he whispered.
With great effort, she wrenched from his arms and stared at his reflection in the glass. Was she so easy that a few caresses and some kisses could muddle her brain? This man ruined a case for the greater good, nearly destroyed her career, not to mention wedged a nice little chink in their relationship. Michaela couldn’t let her traitorous body dictate to her heart, no matter how wanton he made her feel.
She drifted her gaze over him. He was rugged, all sharp edges and rough planes. Sandpaper would only refine and hone his persona. He needed someone soft yet strong enough to withstand his arrogance. Why she ever thought she could maintain a relationship with the man and remain unscathed spoke more to her belief in love and romance rather than the logic of them as a couple. What a fool she was.
Still, the man was absolutely gorgeous. Average height, but she loved to run her fingers over his taut, chiseled muscles.  This time her pulse leapt in response. No use in thinking like that. There was no way she was going to let him get that close again, at least not for a long while. She scanned the room. Logs for the fire were piled next to the hearth, the kitchen was well stocked and when they arrived, Logan hadn’t brought anything into the cabin other than their bags. That meant...




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