Book Spotlight-Waking Up in the Wrong Bed by Natalie Anderson

From the back of the book:

When film location scout Ellie Summers sneaks into a colleague's hotel room with seduction in mind, she's thrilled by her own daring!

But the smug morning-after glow morphs into red-faced mortification when she wakes in the arms of a total stranger! Ruben Theroux might be fine with the situation, but a flustered Ellie most definitely is not.

Ellie's only defence against this very attractive guy is to insist they're friends only--strictly no benefits! But Ruben isn't a successful businessman for nothing--they'll be good together, and he's happy to play dirty to get what he wants....

[After making the most mortifying mistake of her life, Ellie has been determined to keep Ruben at bay. Especially now she knows who he is and how he’s completely wrong for her… She’s determined to put him on the ‘friend’ level—only trouble is Ruben is resisting that assignment and Ellie’s hormones are totally on his side!]

“You can’t resist it can you?” she teased as she came out of the pool house, ready to join him. She too had showered. Now his clean shirt was clinging to her wet body beneath.

Ruben pressed the spa bubbles on full to hide how horrifically extreme her affect on him was.

“Resist what?” he asked vaguely. Thinking about sex all the time? Hell he wished he could get her out of his head, or at least get some other woman in. He’d never been unhealthily fixated on one lover like this. He blamed it on the absolute excitement of waking to discover a hot, perfect lover straddling him. Pure fantasy come to life. 

Of course he couldn’t help thinking of it and nothing but. Of course he’d had to finangle a way of getting her back in his bed – even just for a weekend. Only it wasn’t proving to be as simple as he’d planned.

“Seeking out pleasure,” she shook her head and shivering as she stepped carefully into the steaming water.

“I work hard so why shouldn’t I enjoy play time?” He sent her a sideways look and jeered lightly. “Nothing wrong with relaxing and celebrating and enjoying pleasure. We should appreciate it when something feels good.”

“Don’t think you can get me to yes by glamorising hedonism,” she answered equally flippantly.

“But you know how good it was. You told me how good it was.” And he’d loved hearing it. “The best ever.” And he couldn’t get past it now, not when she was doing the wet tee-shirt thing in a hot tub.

“It’s bad form to compare lovers,” Ellie said primly sitting on the opposite side of the spa from him and determinedly not looking at his bare chest. She didn’t believe for a second that he actually felt the same way – she hadn’t been his best lover ever as well.

“I’m not doing that,” he laughed. “I’m merely reminding you that that night with me was the best sex of your life. I can’t understand why don’t you want a repeat of that.”

“Because it wasn’t real,” she said simply.

“It wasn’t real?” Ruben’s tease vaporised. “Wasn’t real?”

In a heartbeat the relaxed, teasing atmosphere snapped to stormy. Ellie’s suddenly feverish temperature couldn’t be blamed on the bubbling water.

“No, it wasn’t real,” she insisted.

He stared at her. “It was the best sex of your life,” he declared again, almost defiantly daring her to deny it.

“Okay I’ll give you that,” she cleared her throat. “But don’t you think that’s because it was such a fantasy? Like a dream?” Her half dreaming state had made the memory even better. “So good it couldn’t have been real.” 

His obsidian gaze narrowed in on her, compelling more of an explanation from her.

“I didn’t know you. You didn’t know me,” she faltered. “We can’t ever recreate that scenario.”

“So you think our being together again would be a disappointment?” he asked, incredulous.

“It would have to be,” she muttered. “Don’t you think?”

“No I don’t. You’re not curious to know for sure?”

“I…” Of course she was curious. It was hard containing that curiosity. But she didn’t want to taint that memory with disappointment, nor did she want to mess up her opportunity at work.

“You liked fantasy sex.”

“So did you,” she defended.

“Yeah,” he admitted with a wolfish grin. “There are other kinds of fantasy sex.”

She swallowed. “I’m not into kink.”

He chuckled. “I can come up with many, many simple, sweet fantasies if you like.”

She licked her lips before realizing what a revealing piece of body language she’d instinctively performed. She put her hand to her mouth and rubbed – as if she could deny the yearning there.

“Ellie.”

Oh help, that had her toes curling, but the rest of her was paralysed. She couldn’t walk, couldn’t run. She just waited as he took the two paces through the water. So close she had to tilt her chin to maintain eye contact – which she was damn well determined to do. So close she could feel his breath, could feel her own muscles weakening as excitement erupted.

He inclined his head, lowering it almost enough. “You want fantasy?” his lips barely moved as he challenged.

Waking Up In The Wrong Bed is available from: 

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Waking-Wrong-Harlequin-Presents-Extra/dp/0373528809/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1342816014&sr=8-1&keywords=waking+up+in+the+wrong+bed

Barnes & Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/waking-up-in-the-wrong-bed-natalie-anderson/1109150710?ean=9780373528806

And will be on the shelves in bookstore from Mid-August.

USA TODAY bestseller Natalie Anderson writes fun, frisky, feels-good contemporary romance for Harlequin Mills & Boon and Entangled. With over twenty books published, she’s also been a Romantic Times Award nominee & a finalist for the R*BY (Romantic Book of the Year). She lives in Christchurch, New Zealand with her husband, four children and what feels like a million ducks. Find out more at her website http://www.natalie-anderson.com  and be sure to sign up for her newsletter there as she often has subscriber only eTreats!

She’s also on Twitter @authornataliea and Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/authornataliea

Outside the Law with Kara Lennox

Tell the readers a little about yourself.

I've been writing stories since I was old enough to hold a pencil. My first few books were written as Karen Leabo for Silhouette Romance, Desire and Intimate Moments, and Bantam Loveswept. As Kara Lennox I moved to Harlequin American and Intrigue, then to Super Romance. Perhaps I have a short attention span? The stories I love most are romantic suspense, and at Super Romance I've finally found an outlet for the longer, more complex and suspenseful stories that are so much fun for me. All of my Supers are in the Project Justice series, which so far has six books (the fourth is out this month, Outside the Law). I grew up in Texas, spent some time in Kansas City, and recently transplanted to Southern California and LOVE IT.

As an author, do you take time to read? If so, what do you like to read and who is/are your favorite author/s?

I definitely take time to read, and my taste varies widely, everything from lush historical romance to tense mainstream thrillers. Right now I'm reading Ben Franklin's autobiography, a book by Robert Crais, a J.D. Robb (all at the same time) and a writing book by Donald Maass. Janet Evanovich is one of my favorite authors, as is T Jefferson Parker, Jasper Fforde, and a bunch of others. Whoever I'm reading at the moment becomes a favorite author, at least temporarily. 'Cause if I don't love a book, I don't finish it. Life is too short.

How do you stay motivated when the Muse is uncooperative?

My muse is well trained, and when I sit down to write, she's usually there. That said, sometimes I am distracted by other things, especially with all the social networking choices, gardening, crafts and artwork. I have to be very disciplined to turn off all that other stuff and write. It's hard work!

If you could go anywhere in the world on a romantic getaway, what would you do and where would you go?

My favorite getaways are cycling vacations. When you climb a big hill with your sweetie and make it to the top, sweaty and winded and triumphant, it's a bonding thing. Then at the end of the day you can relax with local cuisine and wine. We go to some very interesting places--Serbia, Bulgaria, Victoria Island. This summer we're going to the finger lakes in upstate New York.

What is the hardest thing for you to write?

Love scenes! It's not that I'm shy or embarrassed, but I've written so many, and it's a challenge to come up with some fresh way to describe it. (I've probably written a hundred loves scenes!)

If you could live the life of one of your characters who would you be?

I wish I could be as efficient and organized as Jillian (not to mention young, beautiful, skinny and stylish). She appears in all of the Project Justice books (I think) first as billionaire Daniel Logan's personal assistant, and later in her own story as an intern trying to prove herself as an investigator. But I wouldn't want to actually be any of my characters, as they have way too much drama in their lives and bad guys try to kill them. They end up in a good place, true, but I wouldn't like all the angst leading up to the happy ending. I'd rather write about it than live it, LOL.

The tag line on my blog is ‘Indulge Your Inner Romantic.’ What do you do to indulge?

My inner food critic, I guess. I love going out to eat and for a while I was a restaurant reviewer. My husband laughs at me because I get so much pleasure from food and he really just doesn't care as long as he doesn't go hungry.

What do you like to write about the most? The least?

Cops are my absolute favorite. I am fascinated by murder investigations and serial killers. I love putting characters in danger, getting them shot, having them almost die. What do I least like writing about? Well, once when I was a freelance writer, I had to describe a chicken processing machine. And fork lift parts. After that, anything else is a picnic. 

Thank you so much for having me as your guest!

I will give away one autographed copy of Outside the Law, my March Harlequin Super Romance, by random drawing from among all those who comment on this blog. Here is the link to the book's Amazon page, where you can read an excerpt: http://www.amazon.com/Outside-Harlequin-Superromance-Kara-Lennox/dp/0373717679/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1329265136&sr=8-1

Book Spotlight with Stephanie Draven's The Fever and The Fury

Revenge is a dish best served hot!

Phaedra, a fury, is bound to make Lieutenant Luke Lazaros atone for his supposed crime, but her usual method of inflicting pain doesn’t work very well on a phoenix with the power to be reborn every time he dies. However, each rebirth leaves him with an overwhelming need for sex. Phaedra’s new plan: to drive Luke mad with desire.

But Phaedra has never touched anyone—even herself—except to cause pain. She’s an innocent when it comes to pleasure…but Luke isn’t. His touch is a revelation, arousing a passion in Phaedra that is as delicious as it is terrifying. For no matter how much she wants Luke, giving herself to a man risks awakening her goddess’s wrath.

A multi-published award-nominated author of paranormal romance. Stephanie’s critically acclaimed  Mythica series asks: What if the monsters of ancient mythology still walked the earth...and what if you found out that you were one of them? Currently a denizen of Baltimore, Stephanie lives with her favorite nocturnal creatures–three scheming cats and a deliciously wicked husband. And when she is not busy with dark domestic rituals, she writes her books.

Website / Facebook / Twitter

Excerpt:

She'd already killed him twice this week. 

Monday, the harpy bitch grabbed the wheel just as he was making a tight turn on a cliff-side highway. The car jumped the barrier and exploded in a fiery crash of glass and twisted metal at the bottom of Moraca Canyon. 

On Wednesday morning, he'd chanced taking a shower and she dropped a hair dryer in with him, sending a deadly shock through his wet body. 

It wasn't even the weekend and she was already trying to kill him a third time. 

Luke had awakened to the sinuous slide of her body atop his and, for one groggy moment, he'd enjoyed the carnal sensation of a woman in bed with him.

Then her knee came crushing down on his windpipe. 

Now Luke thrashed upon the mattress, grabbing at her supple thighs, trying to throw her off.  The curve of her breast brushed his arm, her moist lips parted and she clutched at his face as if she were going to draw him into an intimate embrace…just before fingernails like talons cut his flesh to bloody ribbons. 

Or at least that's what it felt like.

With the lightest touch, she could put an ordinary mortal man in complete agony. But he wasn't an ordinary mortal man and she should have known better than to touch him.

"Atone," the fury demanded, her voice driving needles of agony into his spine. “Atone!”

Luke was desperate enough to consider it. Anything to get rid of her. Anything to make the pain stop. Anything that might relieve him of the memories that haunted him. The blood in the sand and all the lies…

Take the money, Luke. There'll be more where that came from. 

His traitorous lips parted in surrender, ready to tell the fury whatever she wanted to hear, but then he felt his square jaw clench tight in stubborn refusal. 

No. Screw atonement and regret. Luke would rather die again. 

Her lithe legs wrapped around his waist like a vise. They were locked together as tightly as lovers and in blind suffering he banged the back of his skull on the headboard. It started like a fever, a sexual rush of heat that seared its way through his veins, pulsing through his hammering heart, racing to his groin.

Damn it. He liked this villa, but he'd burn the place down to get free of her if he had to. Sparks leaped from his fingertips to the bedsheets and the scent of scorched linen rose to his nostrils. The fire would obey him—it was the one goddamned thing in his life he still had any control over—so Luke made the fire rise higher, engulfing them both in a flash of flames and searing pain. 

His bones went white-hot, molten beneath his skin, and he screamed. He was turning to ash. He was burning her too, burning her alive. He could have held onto her. He could have forced her to share his torment to the bitter end, but he flung her away. And her tumbling body was the last thing he saw before he died….

Phaedra was accustomed to inflicting pain, not suffering it. But now every cell in her body screamed in protest as her burned skin rose up in blisters. She was immortal. She could never die. That didn't mean she couldn't feel pain, and making this man miserable had somehow become her own personal torment. 

She lay dazed in agony on the floor, smoke filling her lungs while Lieutenant Luke Lazaros burned alive before her very eyes. Gods of Olympus, he was stubborn. He should have broken by now, but he was only getting more unmanageable. None of the men she'd been sent to torture had ever been so obstinate. Then again, she'd never been unleashed upon a phoenix before.

In the light of the crackling blaze, Phaedra's blistered body healed, new pink flesh knitting over the old with miraculous speed, and it occurred to her that the fire alarm wasn't shrieking. A quick glance up at the scorched ceiling told her that he'd disabled it. That he'd planned for this exact circumstance. He was handy that way. Good with modern gadgets. And a born strategist. He'd started anticipating her. Adapting…

All at once, the conflagration on the bed extinguished itself and a burst of air dusted her with Luke's charred human remains. A bit of stagecraft on his part. 

Of course, she'd seen him do this before—rise from the ashes as a new man, his dark curly hair cut in sharp military style, his name and blood type displayed upon frayed patches on his desert fatigues. A backpack full of cash in his right hand. 

This was how he looked the moment he was war-forged. The instant he stopped being an ordinary mortal man and became a monster. But as many times as she watched him die, she couldn't enjoy it. Watching him now, she took no satisfaction in his shudder of revulsion at the feel of a new body that wasn't his own. Nor did it encourage her to see the half hostile, half haunted look in his eyes as he tried to remember himself. Shaking his head as if to fasten upon his old memories, he caught her look of dismay and gave a dark smile-that-was-not-a-smile.

"What's the matter?” Luke asked. “Didn't expect me to be so hot in bed?"

Given that she was clutching the burned and blackened remains of her clothing against her body, Phaedra didn't appreciate the sexual innuendo. It didn't surprise her though. Every time the lieutenant was reborn, he battled overwhelming hunger. He'd be ravenous now, for food, drink…sex. 

Still, he grabbed one of his white dress shirts from a drawer and tossed it to her. "Here. You can wear this."

The gallant gesture was starkly out of place considering their situation. Phaedra eyed her nemesis as she fastened the buttons, disconcerted by his scent on the shirt and how it mingled with the perfume of her newly healed skin. "Does this mean you're ready to be redeemed, Luke Lazaros?"

"Just means I was brought up right," Luke said through his teeth. "And that an officer falls back on his training in a crisis. Or maybe I've just always fantasized about a leggy woman wearing nothing but my shirt. Until I get rid of you, I might as well improve the scenery."

"How many times must we go through this?" Phaedra asked, ignoring the predatory glare in his eyes. She rose to her feet. She was tall, but he was taller. She was hard-bodied and imposing; even before they felt the torture of her touch, most men had the sense to cower. But not this man. "There is no getting rid of me, Lieutenant. Once a fury is unleashed upon a criminal, she's unbreakably bound to him until he atones or is driven to insanity."

"I'm not a criminal," Luke snapped. "And I will find a way to be rid of you."

I hope you do find a way, Phaedra thought. Because she was every bit as stuck with him as he was with her.