Dying to Love Her with Dana Lorraine and a Contest

Hi everybody! Dana Lorraine here. Let me first take a moment to thank Lynn Chantale for hosting me on her blog today. I’m a debut author and I really appreciate her giving me a chance to introduce myself and my little sexy book to her readers.

Dying to Love Her was just released last week from Ellora’s Cave. Yippee! It’s a hot paranormal erotic m/f/m ménage with plenty of sweet to keep those of us who are die-hard romantics happy too. I’ve included the blurb and there’s also an excerpt. By the way, if you hate to diet and exercise you’re going to love this book. Go ahead, read below to see what I mean.

Oh…and there’s a Rafflecopter contest I’m offering so sign up for that too.

Happy Reading!

Blurb: 

When Melanie Woodson joins Empriva Fitness she expects to lose weight, not gain two sexy vampire personal trainers. With an exercise regimen that includes passionate horizontal workouts, fat-burning orgasms and lusty words of encouragement, she’s in serious danger of forgetting their relationship is based on a business agreement and not mutual attraction.

Alec Kosta and Rook Abernathy, best friends and owners of Empriva, have waited over a century for the right lifemate to come along. Now that they’ve found Melanie, with her endless curves and quick wit, they’re ready to give up countless lifetimes to spend just one with her.

But time isn’t on their side—they’ve tasted her blood and now mere days are all they have to convince her their love is real or risk losing their chance to be with her forever.

Excerpt:

Melanie Woodson did a whiplash-worthy double take, her gaze locking with that of the gorgeous guy in the limo. Her steps faltered in time with her heart and she lost her ability to breathe. No way could that look be meant for her. And then he smiled, all cocky and delicious. Dizzying warmth swept through her body. The heat he sent her way left little doubt—he had lowered his window to check her out.

The sides of her lips quivered and she worked them into something she hoped resembled a smile.

Mr. Gorgeous, eyes as bright as the lights lining the city street, responded with a seductive, hungry lick across his lips that jumpstarted her stagnant steps.

She’d been without this kind of flattering attention too long. Melanie swallowed down hard and fidgeted with her hair. Usually, she did the sizing up as a booking agent for a premiere modeling agency. Men like him only turned on the smoldering routine for her when they wanted something, like a high-profile booking.

Rather, he gave off the vibe that he wanted to book a room for them at The Ritz.

If she had any chutzpah she’d pull her v-neck sweater down an extra inch or three, saunter over and show him that a hotel room wasn’t necessary. The limo gave them plenty of room to get to know each other better. But her hectic work days, the lonely nights and the extra pounds she’d packed on during the last few years had robbed her of the energy and confidence to kick her chutzpah back into gear.

Who am I kidding? The guy wears sex appeal like a second skin. I’ve probably got a yard of toilet paper stuck to the bottom of my boot. Melanie’s cheeks flushed hot. She gave her feet a little shake while hurrying along the busy sidewalk, just in case and peeked over her shoulder one last time.

His pucker-perfect lips launched a thousand fantasies. With a wistful sigh, she entertained a particularly steamy one involving whipped cream, her nipples and his tongue as she walked into Empriva Fitness, the most exclusive fitness and weight-loss center in New York City.

The door flew shut behind her. Melanie rode out the lingering sensations of desire as she approached the muscled man seated behind the reception desk. She breathed easier taking note of the dark-paneled wall that blocked the rest of the facility from view. Those gyms with the expansive windows and wide-open lobbies intimidated her. No way could she exercise knowing her spandex-covered ass was on display for the whole world to see.

Melanie signed in, bypassed the empty chairs and searched through the assortment of magazines fanned out across a table. She grabbed a mindless gossip tabloid, looked up and lost all interest in the celebrity cover story.

Mr. Gorgeous stood by the entrance and suddenly the room felt like the waistband of her skirt—tight.

He treated her to a devilish wink and her heartbeat sped past its target rate to a cardiac-arrest pace in seconds. On the upside, she might be burning calories.

Had he followed her inside?

The possibility made her tummy churn. She hadn’t flirted in forever. Considering her dating track record, she’d never done it effectively either. Melanie dropped the magazine, whipped around and hurried across the room hoping with a little more space between them she might actually think of something witty to say.

She didn’t need to see him to know he watched her every move. The prickles of heat climbing her spine told her so. Self-consciousness didn’t have time to settle in—not once she saw his picture hanging on the wall. Curious excitement sharpened her nerves and she had to get a closer look.

Mr. Gorgeous hadn’t posed for the photo alone. In a vibrant trance, she skimmed her fingers over the glass-covered image of the magnificent man beside him. Dark sensuality radiated from his hard-edged smile, so different from the playful sexiness of Mr. Gorgeous. Both flavors of masculinity whet her appetite and she licked her lips wanting to sample both.

“Perhaps if you’re nice to me I’ll arrange for you to touch the real things.”

Copyright © DANA LORRAINE, 2013

Dying to Love Her Amazon  Ellora's Cave  ARe
             
Website    Facebook   Twitter   Pinterest  Goodreads

************************CONTEST ALERT CONTEST ALERT*************************

http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/share-code/Y2VlM2JkMDkxZmFjMWZkY2U0N2Y5NTFhYmY3YzUzOjE=/

Kink Me Up with Em Petrova

As an erotic romance author, I spend a LOT of time thinking about sex. In fact, there are days I live, eat, breathe, and watch sex. I’m always looking into fun new ways for my characters to connect. To me, realism is best, though. I could read about the sexiest BDSM ever but deep down, I know I’ll never play in that way. Yet I’m not exactly vanilla.

I know a lot of you fall into this category. Let’s call ourselves Dark Chocolates—decadent and rich. So what happens when your partner is milk chocolate or even cookies and cream? Well, we have to spoon-feed him bits of dark chocolate at a time to get him accustomed to it.

How do you ask for more kink?

1. Play teacher. Let him walk in on you draped in a silk cloth. Then ask him to tie you up with it. Make sure you have a safe word—always! If either of you are uncomfortable, it’s not going to be a good experience.
2. Read a hot book. I happen to know an author who writes scorching hot sex. *wink* Read a passage aloud to your lover or let him read over your shoulder. Bounce your foot while reading and say, “Listen to this, babe.”
3. Turn on the tube. Yep—instead of connecting by turning off the TV, tune in to a sexy flick together. Find something that pushes both of your boundaries and ask what makes him hot. 

Communication is everything! Read on for a sexy excerpt of my latest release in the Rough Boys series UNTOUCHED, now available from Ellora’s Cave http://www.ellorascave.com/untouched.html

EXCERPT RATED ADULT:

Mason choked the engine of his chainsaw and adjusted it until it was purring. Much like Eva last night.

The vibrations of the saw ran up his arms and through his shoulders. He squinted up at the treetop, assessing it once more. Never could be too careful. Loggers died every year. Even those with a ton of experience like him had accidents.

He tried to shift his night with Eva from his mind so he could focus on bringing down this white oak. The top was heavy on the right side but he didn’t want it to fall that direction. If it did, it would take out a solid thirty-incher that could be cut in a second wave.

He wanted this particular tree to shoot the gap he’d cleared to the left, which meant some fancy saw work was needed.

The wind was nonexistent and the air still after his regular faller, Tommy Cook, had just felled a tree. Two hundred yards away, he was busy select cutting too.

Mason approached the tree and set his saw blade at an angle. The teeth cut through the thick bark and wood like a hot knife through butter. He pulled the blade back and dug in again, drawing the saw upward to cut a wedge from the trunk. Wood dust showered his arms and coated the backs of his gloves. It burned his nose and he sniffed deeply, loving the scents of the sap and the pull of exertion in his veins.

Using the point of his saw, he tapped the notch he’d cut. It dropped to the forest floor soundlessly, disappearing into the shallow drift of snow around the trunk. Circling the tree, Mason set his boots precisely, prepared to jump back in the event that the log kicked out.

Then, glancing around quickly to ensure no one was within distance of this tree, he set the blade at an angle on the backside of the cut. As the trunk was severed in two, it tipped. Cracking and popping noises sounded even through his hearing protection. He felt the smile of satisfaction spread across his face.

With a scream, the white oak plummeted, the top branches ripping through the limbs of other trees, brushing them in farewell. It slammed to earth with a resounding wallop.

A cheer went up from across the clear-cut. Mason looked up to find Tommy sending him a wave of camaraderie. He cut the power on his saw and thwacked his hands against his thigh to dislodge the sawdust from his gloves. The cracked brown leather gloves had been his father’s and one of the only things Mason had saved of the man’s personal possessions.

He’d found them on a high shelf in the entryway. Drawing them down, he’d brought them to his nose and inhaled the tang of leather and sawdust. Both scents he associated with his dad.

He set his saw on the fallen trunk and pulled off his glove. A shock tore through him as the sweet aroma of Eva’s arousal struck him. He’d spent all night loving her. Even this morning he’d fingered her to completion before allowing her to climb from his bed. Christ, he could hardly wait to get home to see if his sheets smelled of her.

He’d barely kept himself from begging her to stay longer. Returning her to Osborn’s house to pick up her little car had spurred that deep possessiveness in him again. Osborn had come outside to harass them about where they’d gone. Mason had put a stop to it, but not before Eva was as flushed as a Christmas rose.

He brought his fingers to his nose and inhaled. His balls clenched instantly at the scent of her he caught there. He’d promised to call her later tonight, but he felt like a goddamn teenager, dying to pick up the cell and call her now. Immediately.

What was she doing? Now that he knew she had a child to care for, he envisioned her in several different scenarios—the boy nestled on her lap as she read a story or seated on the floor building a block tower with him.

Why hadn’t he seen it before? She wore her motherhood like she displayed her femininity. She was always caring for people. Even hand-feeding Osborn a tartlet last night.

Mason wanted to jump in his truck and race to her house right now, and that scared the hell out of him. He’d never known such longing, even with his ex-wife. Eva and his ex were like heartwood and rotted wood though. One was strong and beautiful, something wood connoisseurs prized. Mason knew heartwood when he saw it.

Trouble was, he wasn’t going to stick around Salzburg Springs for long. He’d already contacted the company he’d left when his dad died a year ago and been told he always had a job with them. In fact, they wanted him as soon as possible. His roots weren’t firmly entrenched in western Pennsylvania, but they were plunging deeper after last night.

He mentally kicked himself. He never should have toyed with Eva. She deserved much more than a bachelor with a bent for rough play in bed.

Fires flared in him at the memory of her response to that heavy hand. She’d come unglued when he pinched her nipples so hard. And her skin had lifted to him when he tugged on her hair. How far could he push her?

Thanks for reading! I’d love to hear from you. Leave a comment for a chance to win book 1 of The Rough Boys series—Blown Down! http://www.amazon.com/Blown-Down-ebook/dp/B00666KWTQ/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1368121534&sr=8-1&keywords=blown+down

Hot Pursuit

Many thanks to Lynn for answering my call for guest spots on Face Book to talk a bit about my new release with Ellora’s Cave in the Blush line.  She was very gracious and let the pushy guest invite herself on over. *Looks around for coffee cake and tea*

The story is called Hot Pursuit and it truly is a chase across the globe. It’s a fun romp if I do say so myself. My heroine is more than a bit sassy and many times I debated having her save some small animal to make her more appealing to the reader. She’s a bit abrasive to start with but she’s a lawyer so she has an excuse. Her journey in this story is to find out exactly what kind of person she is and I hope the reader is as surprised as Evangeline herself was when we arrived at THE END.

No blog post would be complete without a word about the hero. In this story, he’s part German, part British and is very yummy. Think Clive Owen on a particularly well-shaven day. Our hero is an Interpol agent who is intense and dogged in his pursuit of justice. Or is it the pursuit of the lawyer that’s making him so intense? Hmmm. 

BLURB:

Blush sensuality level: This is a sensual romance (may have explicit love scenes, but not erotic in frequency or type).

Racing across the globe to help a client isn’t part of corporate lawyer Evangeline Fleet’s normal legal services, but this is no ordinary client. She’s the beloved daughter of an old family friend. In her efforts to save the girl, Evangeline gets in over her head when sexy Interpol agent Cecil Waugh enters the picture in hot pursuit of her client. He follows the lawyer on an international chase from New York City to Rio de Janeiro where they forget their differences for a moment and fall into bed together. Before the sheets can even cool Evangeline makes a daring escape, leaving behind her lover.

Relentless in his quest to find Evangeline’s client, Cecil continues the chase across Europe. But it soon becomes unclear who his main target is—Evangeline’s charge, or the spitfire of a woman herself. Only time will tell how hot this pursuit will become.

Book video:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1m1Ek3-nhX4&feature=youtu.be

EXCERPT:

An Excerpt From: HOT PURSUIT Copyright © JILLIAN CHANTAL, 2012 All Rights Reserved, Ellora's Cave Publishing, Inc. Barbara buzzed Evangeline’s office. Van was on the floor on her ab cruncher, dressed in a pair of black leggings and a sports bra. “Hang on, I’m across the room,” she yelled in the direction of the speaker. She rose, walked to her desk and picked up the headset. “Yeah. What? It’d better be a Federal judge or something. You know it’s my workout time.” She tapped her toe, impatient to get back to her exercise. “Not a judge but an Interpol agent. On the phone. He insisted I interrupt you.” “Barb, who do you work for? Me or that guy?” “You.” “Well, then. What’re you going to tell him?” “That you can’t be interrupted?” “See, that was easy, yeah?” “Yeah, boss. Should I get his number?” “Tell him I’ll call him back in thirty minutes. What’s his name?” “Cecil Waugh.” Van doubled over in laughter and held on to her stomach. “Oh God, what would a Cecil Waugh look like? A nerd in taped-up horn-rimmed glasses with his pants belted under his armpits and a pen protector in his shirt pocket?” “You’re terrible.” Barbara snickered. “And you love me for it.” Van laughed. “Yeah, right. I’ll tell him you’ll call back.” “Thanks.” Van hung up and finished her workout. She took a quick shower in her private bathroom. She dried her hair, curling under the ends of her pageboy cut and put on a red merino-wool pantsuit for the depositions she had scheduled for later in the morning. The suit was double breasted with three large buttons on an asymmetrical bodice. She slid on her red patent-leather stiletto pumps with the pointy toes, the ones she called her Wicked Witch of Manhattan shoes. She wanted to look especially tough since the lawyer on the other side was from Miami and had a reputation as a real asshole. She thought she might need to use the pointed toes on his butt. Kick some ass, as it were. Van nodded at herself in the mirror. Yep, the red is the right choice. Makes me feel more powerful. And it doesn’t hurt that it looks good on me. She grinned over her vanity, pinned on a white topaz broach, flattened the collar of the suit jacket and walked to her desk, ready for the day’s challenges. Before she could take her seat, her phone buzzed again and Barbara said, “That Waugh guy—” Van yelled into the speaker, “What? The nerd with the pocket protector on the phone again? He sure is an impatient little nerd, isn’t he?” “Er. Not exactly, boss—” Van’s door burst open and banged backward on the jamb. A gorgeous man with dark hair hanging over his brow, dressed in khakis and a polo shirt that showed off his toned biceps, strode into her office. There was no sign of a pocket protector anywhere on the man. He said, “Cecil Waugh, Interpol.” He thrust his hand toward her as if to shake hers. Ignoring his hand, furious that he’d come into her office uninvited, gorgeous or not, she said, “What the hell do you think you’re doing? Barging in here?” He dropped his outstretched hand to his side. “You didn’t call me back like your secretary said you would. I have a witness on the lam and you know where she is. I’m not a patient man, so I came over here to get some answers. Nerd that I am.” His gaze raked over her body with a sneer and he added, “Your secretary said you were too busy to come to the phone when I rang up earlier. Was that a lie? To avoid my call so you could keep hiding your client? Is obstructing justice a hobby with you?” “You rude son of a bitch. I’m not sure you have any authority in this country and you certainly have none here in my place of business. I have no obligation whatsoever to tell you anything. I definitely have no obligation to take or return your call. I suggest you leave before I call security.” She sat in her chair and reached toward the phone. “Look, I’m sorry I barged in but there’s some urgency to the situation. I’m not trying to be rude but I need to speak to Senoia Griffin. Now.” She glared at him. Held his stare for a full twenty seconds. Then, not breaking eye contact, she picked up the phone, pushed a button and said, “Leo, I need you in my office right now. I have an intruder.” Cecil said, “All right, all right, damn, I’ll go. Call off your security dog. But this isn’t over. Not by a long shot. I’ll be back with a warrant. Soon.” He turned to walk out, stopped and looked back. He looked her up and down for the second time then turned toward the door. She gasped at the audacity of the sneer he’d had on his face as his gaze raked over her. “Lots of luck with that warrant, buster. You’re in New York now. I think you’ll find that people here have rights. Now get out of here, you jerk.” He stalked out of her office, the door slammed behind him, so hard it rattled in the frame. Again. She got up and walked out into the secretarial area. Barbara stood there looking at the suite door and Van said, “Not so much a nerd, huh?” Barbara shook her head. “I know I’m wet. God, what a man.”

BUY LINK: http://www.jasminejade.com/p-10324-hot-pursuit.aspx 

Visit me on the web: www.Jillianchantal.com

Twitter: https://twitter.com/JillianChantal 

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/#!/jillian.chantal 

Sinful Truth and a Giveaway

As I sit here at 6:15p.m. on a Monday, desperately clutching my mug of coffee to stay awake because it’s grey and drizzly outside, I’m struck by a sense of ennui.

Boredom.

Pointless yawning sighs.

Until my cat knocks over his entire bowl of food, causing me to slosh my coffee all over myself and scream loud enough to wake the poodle, causing him to bark and leap at the door like marauding zombies are upon us and this ten-pound curly-headed canine is the last hope for humanity. Tears. I have tears, and palpitations, and an asthma attack.

Yeah. I don’t do with being startled very well.

One might even say I’m a bit of a weenie. A wuss. A total chickenshit.

But I’m okay with that. I’ve put in my time. I played tough in high school, when my two best friends made it their mission to watch every scary movie that ever existed. 

All the Halloweens, Friday the 13ths, Pet Sematarys, Childrens of the Corns, Hellraisers, Screams, Creepshows, and damned if I can remember what else they forced me to watch through cajoling, whining, ridicule, and straight up bullying. As a result, even to this day I become nearly catatonic at the sight of the Scream mask. I’d post a picture, but then I’d never be able to come back to this blog. And that would be sad, because I wouldn’t be able to give you a copy of my scary book.

Yup.

I wrote a scary book. 

It’s sexy too, but it’s a LOT scary. It’s an erotic horror romance entitled SINFUL TRUTH. In homage to all the creepy films my besties forced me to watch, I’ve written a book so scary that it gave me nightmares the last time I read it. A short excerpt for you:

I skidded to a halt, unable to process what my eyes were showing me. Rafe dropped to his knees beside the now-dead woman and ripped the remnants of her shirt open, baring her bloody breasts. Davis crossed the crinkling leaves until he reached them, then he and Rafe lowered their heads to the wound. I turned away as the wet sucking noises started and my feet pounded the earth without my brain saying go. 

The woods got darker as I ran, my panicked breaths too loud. Quiet, Bry, they’ll hear you! If they hear you then you’ll be next! 

But I couldn’t stop the desperate sob that burst from my chest when footsteps started pounding behind me. 

“You fucking bitch! I told you to stay in the goddamn car!” 

Tears streamed from my eyes as I ran, jumping over a fallen log just in time to avoid tripping. A muffled curse behind me indicated Rafe might not have been so lucky. 

My lungs burned and my legs ached but I couldn’t stop running. Which way was the car? If I could get there first, I could get the hell out of here. I shouldn’t have gotten out of that damn car in the first place. I should have stayed put. But then would I really know what he was capable of? Oh god, what could I do? He’d killed someone and he knew I saw him do it. He’d kill me next. 

The fickle moon hid behind another cloud, making it impossible to see more than a few inches ahead. I knocked into trees, branches grabbed at my exposed skin, the stinging pain lashing me forward. I was lost, so very lost. I couldn’t hear what was behind me. I couldn’t tell what was in front of me. Terror drove me on for three more steps. 

Unseen hands gripped my arm and clapped over my mouth, smothering my scream before it began.

So what do you think? Love it? Hate it? Want to read it? Let me know below, and we’ll select one random commenter for a FREE ebook copy of SINFUL TRUTH! 

And in the meantime, I’ll be cleaning coffee off my computer and cat food off the floor. The glamorous life of an erotic romance author…

~Regina

www.reginacole.net