Crimson Lust-Release Day Blitz

Felicity Hahn is a thief on the run in Ireland. She can’t go home and spends every day hoping Interpol doesn’t catch up with her. But when she steals a crimson-red necklace, she may have gotten more than she bargained for.

Cian Finnegan is a vampire who was turned outside the gates of Castle Tullamore over three hundred years earlier. He chases the woman who stole his necklace back to the Castle, now a hotel, both to recover his possession and because her scent makes him as hard as hell.

Can the magic of the Emerald Isles give these two a happy ending, or is it too late for them both?

Author’s website - www.rebeccaroyce.com 

Author Tagline – Anything Can Happen, Expect That It Will

Author Bio 

As a teenager, Rebecca Royce would hide in her room to read her favorite romance novels when she was supposed to be doing her homework. She hopes, these days, that her parents think it was well worth it.

Rebecca is the mother of three adorable boys and is fortunate to be married to her best friend. They’ve just moved to Texas where Rebecca is discovering a new love for barbecue!

She's in love with science fiction, fantasy, and the paranormal and tries to use all of these elements in her writing. She's been told she's a little bloodthirsty so she hopes that when you read her work you'll enjoy the action packed ride that always ends in romance. Rebecca loves to write series because she loves to see characters develop over time and it always makes her happy to see her favorite characters make guest appearances in other books.

In Rebecca Royce's world anything is possible, anything can happen, and you should suspect that it will.

Spicy with a Side of Cranberry Sauce

Spicy with a Side of Cranberry Sauce – Book Two (expected release date December 2012)

Amy Easton is hell-bent on making this Thanksgiving holiday perfect for Dad, and herself. But when she arrives at Martha’s house, she quickly realizes she is in way over her head. She has no idea how to run a holiday, especially one in someone else’s home. What will Dad’s new girlfriend think when Amy screws it all up?

Mason Rider is blindsided by the woman in the grocery store headed for the last can of cranberry sauce. He lets her charm him right out of it and leaves with a non-committal maybe that she’ll call him next week. He should be more focused on helping mom through her first post-divorce Thanksgiving, but he can’t help but lust after the Kindergarten teacher with a hard edge. 

When he comes home to find the sexy cranberry-stealing blonde and her father in Mom’s house, his holiday hook up plans burn to cinders. Will he be able to resist Amy’s temper and spontaneous nature, or will his desire force him to break a promise he made to his mother?      

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.

Website / Blog / Facebook

Excerpt:

Spicy with a Side of Cranberry Sauce: From Chapter One 

Where the hell was the cranberry sauce? 

Amy Easton turned down the aisle of baking goods, searching for the last item Martha needed her to get. She had to find the damned can. This holiday would be perfect if it fucking killed her. The chain on her boots jangled as she hunted. The gallon of milk and box of stick butter froze her hands, but they’d been out of carts and Martha needed them both for first thing in the morning. 

She dodged an older lady pushing a heavy cart as she careened around the corner at the end of the aisle. She still didn’t spot the display. The stock boy had told her it was on aisle six, and here she stood at the end of aisle six, empty handed. Sighing, Amy turned and headed up the aisle again, her eyes roving left and right. She forced herself to slow down, fearing she’d miss the display. 

Thanksgiving just wouldn’t be the same without it. 

Martha had said the same thing earlier that evening when she’d sent Amy to the store. The woman was a Domestic Goddess. The way Mom used to be, the way Amy would never be. So when Martha had panicked after being unable to get in touch with her son on his way from the airport, Amy had volunteered to go get it. She’d be useless in the kitchen tomorrow, so it was the least she could do. Besides, it got her out of the house and away from the smooching her dad and Martha kept doing when they thought she wasn’t looking. 

It was sweet, really. And Amy couldn’t be happier with the way Dad was slowly coming back to life under Martha’s tutelage, but she could do without seeing her dad making out. She wanted to throw up her hands or punch something. Where the hell was that damn can?

There! 

She spotted the display across the end of aisle six. One lonely can of cranberry sauce sat on the shelf, as if it had waited just for her. She hadn’t thought Martha would be the kind of person to leave the shopping till the last minute, but apparently a few things had slipped her mind this year. With Amy and her dad down visiting, she wouldn’t be surprised if Martha had been a little worried about how things would go. 

A tall man with reddish brown curls was coming down the aisle diagonal to her. Heading for that damned can. She didn’t know where else to go around here to find one. She had to get to that can first. She picked up the pace and just as he turned the corner, she body checked his cart, flying back on her ass and dropping the milk and butter, just as the can of cranberry sauce flew off the shelf toward her.

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? 

Buy Links – Amazon / Loose ID / Fictionwise / Barnes & Noble

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.

Website / Blog / Facebook

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.

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

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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 clichés 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. 

Website / Facebook / Twitter / Amazon

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.” 

Her Perfect Man by Nona Raines

Kim Hansen has terrible luck with men. When her sexy downstairs neighbor shows a more-than-neighborly interest in her, she's suspicious. She's been burned too many times, by too many guys. Steamy sex is one thing, but Charlie Keller is smart, hot and successful—so what more could he want with her?

Though Kim does her best to shut him down, Charlie's not put off by her attitude. He doesn't scare easy. Kim thinks she's clever, using sex to maintain an emotional distance and to keep him off guard. But Charlie sees through her tough exterior to the tender heart beneath.

But Kim needs to be won over. Sure, their bedroom action is awesome, but given her past mistakes, she's convinced Charlie is too good to be true. Just too perfect. But if Charlie has his way, he'll prove that he's the perfect man for her.

Genre: Contemporary erotic romance m/f

Buy links: The Wild Rose Press

Nona Raines became hooked on romances when she first picked up "The Flame and the Flower" by Kathleen Woodiwiss (and she's not telling how long ago that was). Romances may have changed since then, but her love for a good love story has not. She's been writing off and on for years, but it was only when she joined the Central New York Romance Writers Association that she finally gained the support and confidence she needed to complete a manuscript. 

Nona lives in upstate New York with her many pets and is currently working on her next novel. A former librarian, she enjoys reading books of all genres and discussing them with others. She is thrilled to finally be able to call herself an author and looks forward to hearing from readers.

Website / Facebook

Excerpt:

Kim pulled open the door and began "Look, I just want to…" Her voice trailed off and her mouth went dry as she got a good look at him. This was Charlie?

Gone was the preppy polo shirt he'd had on last night. Today he wore a black T-shirt that stretched tightly over his chest. A warm, hard chest that she remembered touching last night. Kim's heart thumped.

He'd changed last night's Dockers for a pair of jeans that hugged his thighs. Heat flashed through her as she recalled sitting on his lap and how hard he'd been for her. Oh, God, she couldn't help it. Her gaze went to his package, which filled the front of his jeans beautifully.

Her eyes flashed to his. "You like?" he asked. The same words she said to him last night.

She opened her mouth, but no words came out. He was the same man, but different. And not only had the clothing changed, so had his demeanor. This Charlie was not the geeky schoolteacher or the helpful downstairs neighbor. This Charlie was a really hot guy. And from the way his blue eyes lasered her, he thought she was hot, too.

"Are you sober now?" His voice was taut.

"Huh?" She blinked. "Yeah."

"Good." Before Kim had time to wonder at his question or feel insulted by it, he stepped inside, kicked the door shut and hauled her into his arms.

He didn't so much kiss her as devour her—as though he were taking up from where they left off last night, before his conscience made him leave. Kim had no trouble catching up.

Dark Seraphine and KaSonndra Leigh

"Mom always says the angels walk among us. She forgot to tell me that sometimes they're not all fluffy and nice."

Seventeen-year-old Caleb Wood has seen people he calls the walkers since he was a baby. It didn't take long for him to realize something…no one can see these strangers but him. They never stuck around or tried to touch him. And they never said a word. That was until one day on the first day of class in his senior year when an incredibly gorgeous girl strolls into his life…and things are never the same again.

Soon Caleb realizes he has stepped into the middle of a growing conflict between two celestial races. And his ability to see the invisible ones, the half-breeds that want to modify the human race, just might be the only hope both he and the mysterious, but infuriating Gia have of making it out alive.

About the Author:

KaSonndra Leigh was born in Charlotte, North Carolina. She now lives in the City of Alchemy and Medicine, North Carolina. Her two sons, aka the X-Men, have made her promise to write a boy book next.

She holds the MFA in creative writing, and loves to play CLUE, Monopoly (the Indiana Jones version), and Pandora's Box (good writer's block therapy). She lives in an L-shaped house with a garden dedicated to her grandmother. It has a secret library complete with fairies, Venetian plastered walls, and a desk made out of clear blue glass.

Website / Facebook / Twitter

Excerpt

There was no one in the classroom besides the two of us. To admit this girl made me feel a little shaky sounded weak. I put on a manly face, squared my shoulders, and sat in the desk behind her. The little kid in me still wanted to run away like a baby, though. 

And then she laughed. 

It was a high-pitched giggle, a normal girl’s sound. That wasn’t right. I don’t remember any of the other spirits laughing before. 

“So you wanna run from me, huh? Go ahead. I’ll just find you like I always do, Caleb,” she said, still facing the chalk board in the front of the classroom. Her voice was smooth like a musical instrument, maybe a flute. Nah. It was more like a harp. I could listen to it all day. 

But even her sexy pipes didn’t change the fact that she just read my mind. How did she do that?

“Are you going to run, or stay? I need a quick answer, because I have a lot to do today.” She turned her head to the side a bit. 

“I don’t run from anything,” I said, trying to ignore the prickle in my underarms. Good thing I used my dad’s deodorant this morning. That old-timers stuff was strong enough to knock out anything. 

She didn’t scare me as much as some of the other walkers, my nickname for them. But I wasn’t ready to get her digits either. As a baby, I remembered talking to a few of them. That ability disappeared sometime around my thirteenth birthday. This was the first time I spoke to one in four years. 

“What are you people: angels, ghosts, or zombies?” I asked, my voice squeaking on the last syllable. What a dork. 

“Can’t you be a little more creative?” She turned around in her seat to face me, an amused expression on her ridiculously gorgeous face. I sucked my breath. Her strange amber-hazel eyes pierced through me. The word beautiful didn’t do enough for this walker-girl. 

“I thought I was pretty creative,” I said.

“Nope. Your ideas suck,” she said with a smug face. 

“Nice. Thanks,” I said, getting annoyed.

“And I don’t sparkle in the sun, either. So scratch that one off your list too.” 

I frowned. “Then tell me the right answer. And you can go ahead and explain how I won the honor of being stalked?”

“I’m a creative mix of many things. Feel better now?” She tilted her head. Blue-black hair flowed around her face as if it were made of silky thread. “So others have come before me?” She seemed to be talking to herself rather than asking me. 

“Maybe,” I said. Why should I tell her everything? One thing I did know. At this rate, I was probably going to be committed to the loony ward on the first day of school. 

“I’m going to need your help soon, Caleb. You have to be ready,” she whispered, her face suddenly serious. Right then, I knew my world was about to change…forever. 

Who is the Dark Seraphine? Find out in September, 2012.

Book Spotlight- Mommy Blogger by Carla Caruso

Stella lands a fab job as a mommy blogger. The catch is she’s never had children. Plunged into a world of insanity every mother faces, she must learn to cope as her lies build upon one another. A sexy ex comes into the picture, forcing her to choose between him or the job and a handsome ‘keeper’ of a coworker. It can’t last forever.

About the Author:

Carla Caruso has worked as a newspaper and magazine journalist, government PR and fashion stylist. Mommy Blogger was inspired by applying to write for a parenting website at the start of her freelancing career, pretending she was a mom – when she really wasn’t. Her clueless article ideas, needless to stay, didn’t make the cut – though, the experience at least gave her the premise for a fiction plot! Carla is a member of Romance Writers of Australia.

Website / Publisher / Amazon

Excerpt:

Cleo continues, “Most of our team work freelance from home or part-time in the office. You met Angelique in admin before. There’s also Bethany in accounts, who makes girly accessories for the site under her own label, and Topaz, who helps with packaging and postage. Oh, and Noah, of course, our webmaster—”

A deep male voice, behind me, cuts in. “My ears are burning.”

I swing around and my heart gets a jumpstart. The guy in question is not your garden-variety, weedy IT type. More like a young John Corbett, with mid-length, wavy, brown hair, sea-green eyes and a tall, well-built figure, clad in a fitted, charcoal tee and faded jeans.

Noah extends a hand toward me. I feel the warmth of his hand enclosing mine, before I remember mine’s Oompa Loompa colored. He smells of manliness and soap. Mommy blogging suddenly got a whole lot more interesting.

“Hey,” he drawls. 

“Hi, I’m...Stella.” Yup, just forgot my name. 

Noah’s gaze lingers on mine. “Your our new girl then?”

“Apparently.”

He nods slowly, as though sizing me up. “You’ll fit right in.”

“Oh, thanks,” I manage, but my mind screams: What’s that mean? That he could see me donning maternity jeans or possibly that I look like a MILF? Or worse, a GILF? (A Grandmother I’d Like To...)

“Look forward to seeing you at the next meeting,” Noah says, dropping my hand. Darn.

“Meeting?” I ask mildly as Noah strides away. 

There were meetings? I had imagined being a faceless blogger, squirreling away in tracky-dacks in my home office, laughing to myself, while re-runs of Sex and the City played in the background.

Spotlight: Rescuing a Runaway Bride by Honey Jans

Samantha Logan is a runaway bride. Jake Ramsey is a PI on a stakeout. When they meet in the dark after midnight all their formerly suppressed desires explode. Samantha so needs to prove her sexiness after finding her fiancée in the sack with another woman and Jake has wanted his bosses daughter for years. But will the fire burn out when she finds out he’s here to arrest her brother? To find out come along on the thrill ride as they battle her kinky ex-fiancée, espionage, and each other. Will Jake be able to rescue this runaway bride?

About the Author:

Honey Jans lives in a small Midwestern town with her husband and true inspiration. She is a born romantic with an extraordinarily vivid, yet kinky, imagination.   Honey loves writing erotica and hopes that her stories add a little spice to her readers lives.

Website / Blog

Excerpt:

Samantha Logan parked her car in front of her family’s dilapidated summer cabin in the north woods of Wisconsin and let out a demoralized sigh. Chicago’s morning newspapers would expose the entire disaster, complete with the glaring caption ‘Runaway Bride’. What they wouldn’t say was that after she caught the rat bastard with another woman Grayson St. James had freaked out so much he’d damned near killed her. It was an accident she kept telling herself but she wasn’t taking any chances by sticking around to hear his feeble apologies.

She’d gone to his condo needing to know if they were sexually compatible. The answer hell no, made her lips curve in a rueful smile as she remembered him grunting and sweating over some naked blonde bimbo who was going down on him. The fact he wanted sex wasn’t the shocker. The fact he didn’t want it with semi-virgin her was a huge wake-up call. This time around she’d choose a lover more carefully. What she needed was a teacher, some ideal hunk who’d teach her all about sex. And being academically minded she’d already mentally compiled a list of qualities her erotic arts instructor would need. The first being completely honest, she wouldn’t settle for anything less. The second being able to make her toes curl as she came. But first she was going to hole up here until the furor died down. In retrospect she realized Grayson’s betrayal had probably been just the boot in the butt she needed to shake her out of her safe little workaholic life.

With that thought in mind she climbed out of her almost paid off clunker and walked up the rutted path to her hideout. If she were in luck the key would be in the old hiding place on the ledge above the door. Reaching up on tiptoe she smiled when her fingertips encountered cold metal. Great, things were finally going her way.

Steadying her shaking hands, she stuck the key in the lock, and tried her damndest to turn it. The darned thing wouldn’t turn. It was probably rusted shut. Just her rotten luck. Good and mad now she rattled the rusty lock trying to force it.

Then suddenly the door jerked open taking her with it as she fell into the dark cabin. Crashing to the floor she let out a gasp when some linebacker-sized guy jumped on her taking her down in a rolling tackle that left her flat on her back under him. What the fuck, have I stumbled across a squatter? Because there is no way Grayson or my father and his private dicks could know I’m here.

Trying to suck in air she futilely kicked out at him giving him her best mixed martial arts moves learned during a free crash course due to her new contract with Max’s Dojo. And groaned in frustration when she couldn’t even land a decent punch as he blocked her every move with the stealth of a ninja. Then he captured her wrists in one brawny hand as he began running the other down her struggling body. Just then she finally drew in enough air into her starved lungs to scream realizing too late he smelled hauntingly familiar. It couldn’t be?her luck couldn’t be all bad.

He froze on top of her, if possible, pinning her harder to the floor and she heard him bite back a curse…a slightly southern totally snarky curse and wanted to die. It was. Oh dear heavens her nemesis and teenage wet dream Jake Ramsey.

“Stop your goddamned caterwauling, brat,” he bit out.

Her breath caught in her throat as his oh-so rugged body pressed intimately against hers, the steely brand of his cock damned near burning her sex through her panties. Damn she had to say she wanted to hire a sex instructor. Jake Ramsey was sex on a stick and his big work-roughened hand still cupping her quivering breast made her burn. On cue her nipple budded wantonly against his hot rough palm as a heat wave swept through her.

On top of her he sucked in a breath, his hand tightening on her breast and she thought she was going to die of bliss. Then he went absolutely still muttering what sounded like a curse and she wanted to cry. Great she’d shocked him…again. This was the part where he let her go and gave her the lecture for improper young ladies which had been his job way back when he first came to work for her father as part of Logan Industries Security Force. At least the dark would save her the humiliation of him seeing her blush.

Then the lights snapped on and she groaned. What did he do, install a timer? It’d be easy for the thug who now headed her dad’s security team. She gazed up at him needing to know if he’d changed in the seven years she’d been away, since he’d run her off really. She’d hightailed it for college early after he’d rejected her advances and hadn’t looked back until now.

His gray eyes were still hard and watchful, but they softened a bit as he looked down at her turning into a molten silver glow that took her breath away. There was something decidedly dangerous about the former soldier turned Logan Industries Security Chief. Unfortunately looking at her would no doubt cool his ardor. He hadn’t wanted her when she was eighteen why should now be any different? She didn’t fool herself that she was a great beauty. Her curves were too generous and her sassy independence turned off most men. But instead of his hard-on shrinking it grew against her making her gasp with surprise.

Instinctively she pressed against him pushing her luck. Then he rubbed his thumb over her hard nipple and she trembled, a moan pouring out of her throat. Since when did he want her? Or was this some new interrogation technique? A good cop, sexy bad cop thing designed to drive her nuts?

“What’s the matter, sugar? St. James not so good in the sack?” he gritted out through clenched teeth.

What was the question? She looked up at him with lust-fogged eyes. Oh yeah, is Grayson a flop in the sack? She never found out but she wasn’t about to admit it to the hunk. “None of your dang business, goon.”

“Answer me or I’ll take your sexy ass over my knee,” he growled.

Her toes curled at the huskily voiced threat even as her bottom heated up. Did he really think she had a sexy ass? She’d been reading erotic romances telling herself she was getting ready for her marriage. Now she knew different, she’d been getting ready for her sex instructor. Jake Ramsey disreputable as he was might make the perfect erotica one-o-one teacher. “Really?” she asked, knowing she sounded more hopeful than she should.

The Hardest Book I’ve Ever Written

So, this title is a bit misleading in that it assumes I’ve “written” the actual book. Let me clarify, this should be “writing” as the particular story has become something of a challenge for me! BUT, I love the story, and I can’t wait to share it with my readers. I love it so much, in fact, that I wouldn’t dream of scrapping it. However, while the story itself is great, my writing of the story was lacking some. Yes, I’ll admit it. 

I’m not going to be giving away even the remotest inkling of what this story is about – well perhaps one hint – it has vampires in it! Beyond that, my lips are sealed! But what I will talk about is what exactly it is that I’m failing so miserably at! Drum roll please…

AGING! This particular story starts with a very dark scene from my heroine’s childhood. It then moves on to her teen years, then skips forward a couple year, and then finally to current time a couple years after that. It’s not epic, but it does show certain scenes throughout my girl’s life that are poignant in some way and, frankly, need to be written for the story to work.

I’ve personally never written from the perspective of a child, and I tend to write with a fairly mature, even eloquent, style while still being blunt and avoiding flowery euphemisms. I’m not tooting my own horn … that’s just my “sound” if one were to analyze it. This “sound” does not bode well with the flow of a child’s thoughts and processes, and it has been a challenge for me to break from this style. I’m now retooling a number of the scenes, and I will tell you it is difficult, because though I’m tackling this problem, I don’t like the new “sound” of my writing. It’s appropriate, and I believe well written for the age of the character, but it doesn’t have my normal flow, and that’s been extremely difficult to diverge from. 

All that said, this has been my most challenging manuscript to write because it has pushed me outside of my comfort zone. But I’m going to say it again, I LOVE THIS STORY… And I promise, I will share it with you soon. 

Elizabeth Finn is a contemporary erotic romance author. To read more of her heroines, check out her two recent releases, The Devil’s Pawn and Brother’s Keeper. Visit Elizabeth at ElizabethFinnFiction.com or email her at ElizabethFinn77@gmail.com – she’d love to hear from you!    

When Ashton is left orphaned after her parents are murdered, her life becomes a hell she could never have imagined. Left to fend for herself, and responsible for a debt she doesn’t owe, she is swept into a life as a gentleman’s escort at a private men’s gaming hall. Her new manager makes it abundantly clear he doesn’t appreciate her inexperience, innocence, and shyness. On the contrary, he despises everything about her.

Derek can be “difficult,” she’s been told. And however dark and handsome he may be, he terrifies her in a way that chills her to the bone, but leaves her begging to understand him. As they are pulled along together, more secrets and threats than either one could ever conceive are revealed, and a common enemy emerges. This enemy will stop at nothing to bring Derek to his knees while using Ashton as the greatest pawn in his torturous game.

Will Derek be able to let down his shield of cold, harsh emotion before it’s too late? Will he be able to sacrifice himself to save Ashton, or will they both be destroyed by the secrets of their pasts?

About the Author:

 Elizabeth Finn is an Iowa native, where she lives with her husband and son. By day, Elizabeth is a Human Resources Specialist, but by night, she checks her professionalism at the door and immerses herself in the world of writing erotic romance. Look for more to come from Elizabeth Finn.

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Excerpt:

Once in the fitting room, Derek takes the chair again while I start to remove my clothes. I intentionally wore ugly, stretched-out, white cotton underwear that is entirely too big on me in the event he should be here. My mouth isn’t the only thing that can get me into trouble—my sarcasm knows no bounds when I’m unhappy.

As he sees the appalling excuse for an undergarment, his eyes move up to mine, narrowing darkly at my obvious defiance. I look coolly back at him before looking away dismissively. My anger and resentment of him from the humiliation he subjected me to the previous morning, not to mention his treatment of me over the past two weeks, have charged me into a bold, fiery bitch that no longer cares what retribution I might face. While my tongue usually gets me in trouble, today I decided to let my underwear do the talking.

Jacob enters with an armful of dresses for me to try on, and he cringes as he takes in my defiant granny panties, hated the world over by men, including, apparently, gay men.

He turns to Derek, and with a scrunched-up face, he worries out loud. “The dresses aren’t going to lay right over those…” He tosses a nod in my general direction.

Derek wastes no time at all reassuring Jacob and striking back at me. “No worries. Ashton was just taking them off. She won’t be wearing underwear anymore.”

I glare defiantly back at him as I drop the loose fabric to the floor. He returns the glare for a moment before letting his gaze travel down my body to my sex, and as it lands there, smoldering with heat, I turn abruptly from him, intentionally showing him my backside instead. I look to the mirror in front of me, and I catch his eyes flit away from me in annoyance. He worries his lip with his thumb and index finger as he contemplates, and the slightest of smirks crosses over his mouth. Jacob is standing by looking from one to the other of us, obviously wondering just exactly what he’s gotten himself in the middle of.

Derek finally looks back to Jacob. “Get on with it.”

I try on one after the other of the dresses. Some are perfect; Jacob pins in additional alterations in others. Derek sits by bored, only glancing up from his cell phone occasionally. One such occasion is when Jacob remarks that I’m “just not curvy enough for this one.”

Derek looks up to Jacob, but he shifts his eyes to mine before commenting, “Yes, well, if you can figure out some way of making her look female, you let me know.”

Jacob again lets his eyes pass between us, seeming to wonder all the while what he’s missing. As I hold Derek’s eyes with my own, my anger falters, and the pain that is behind my fury pushes through. I try to wrangle my tears into submission, but it’s no use. In defeat, first one, and then another spills from my eyes and slides down my cheeks. Jacob regards my state and excuses himself from the room.

I stand on the hemming block in the center of the room, refusing to look at Derek. But he’s looking at me, and as my hurt continues to work through my entire body, I let my tongue do what it does best. “Why do you hate me so much?”

He says nothing, but stands and moves to me. Reaching around behind me, he pulls the zipper of the dress down, and then, returning his hands to my shoulders, he pulls the straps down, exposing first my small breasts, and then the rest of my naked body as it falls to the floor.

He leans in to my ear and speaks. “You don’t know anything about me.” He then takes me by the hand and pulls me to stand in front of the mirror, and leaning to my ear once more as I watch him in the mirror, he speaks gently. “Lean forward and put your palms on the mirror.”