Nicola’s Sunday Shoutout: Margaret Madigan
Today’s Sunday Shoutout goes to Margaret Madigan, whose delightful new erotic romance Faerie Fate is now available from Evernight Publishing and other online purveyors of fine erotic romance. Take it away, Margaret!
Holly Spencer is a 22-year-old IT major who’s ready to graduate and find her place in the world. What she really wants is a good job and a condo with a view.
But when she’s rescued twice in one day by a mysterious man who claims to be a fae warrior, she’s plunged into a world she grew up believing existed only in fairy tales, and forced to run for her life from warring factions who all want her dead.
Shadow’s on a routine mission when he runs headlong into Holly–the soul mate he’d given up on ever finding. Even though she refuses to believe they’re meant for each other, he fights to protect her from the very thing that brought them together, even when it means making a dangerous deal with Fate to save her life.
Holly struggles with being told who she’s supposed to love. Shouldn’t it be her choice? But as little by little Shadow kindles her passions and wins her trust, Holly realizes that a life with Shadow may very well be just where she belongs.
Story Excerpt
She still had to face the things that caused her fear, and as much as Shadow made her feel safe, she couldn’t quite let go of the responsibility of taking care of herself. She couldn’t in good conscience give him any hope when she had no idea what she faced in the next few days. That kind of trust required more than she was ready to give just yet. Still, resisting the temptation to give in to their attraction was becoming more and more difficult.
“I know you’ll do everything you can to protect my life, and if I survive this mission, we can talk about my heart,” she said, resting her head on his chest.
“You’ll survive,” he said. “I’ve already saved you twice. I’ll do it as many times as I need to.”
“As I recall, the last time it was a team effort,” Holly teased. “If I hadn’t shifted form, you wouldn’t have been able to carry me away.”
She heard his laugh rumble in his chest. “Very true. That just proves what a good team we are.” He pushed her back just a little to look her in the eyes, “And as I recall,” he said, a wicked grin spreading slowly across his lips, “the last time I saved you, you wore nothing but a smile. Is that going to be a habit?”
“You wish. What does that have to do with anything anyway?”
Still holding her close, he traced the line of her dress, down one shoulder, across the valley between her breasts, and back up again, making her shiver.
“Nothing. I was just thinking how impressive it was.”
Where To Buy
Evernight Publishing
Amazon
All Romance Ebooks
BookStrand
About Margaret Madigan
Author of romance and science fiction with Entangled Publishing and Evernight Publishing.
Oregon Ducks fan.
Donut and pastry addict.
I like cats.
When I’m not writing you’ll find me in a college classroom teaching English, or working as a literary agent for an amazing agency…and of course, wrangling my family.
Where to find Margaret Madigan
Fabulous Friday Reads: Opportunity Knocks
Let’s kick off this bloody hot weekend (well, it is where I am) with my sister from another mister L.D. Blakeley and her debut novel Opportunity Knocks, now available from Evernight Publishing and other purveyors of fine erotic romance. Take it away, lady!
A million thanks for having me on your blog to talk about Opportunity Knocks! This release means so much to me since, not only is it the first novel in my Laissez Faire series, it’s actually my FIRST novel (why start small with a standalone, when you can jump right in with a series, right?).
The Laissez Faire, itself, was inspired by an actual music and art festival that takes place in Northern Ontario each summer; and my main characters, Gill and Tommy, are based on two lads I encountered at said festival. When the fictional versions of these two sprang to life in my head, they brought friends, family, and roommates along with them and I knew from the very beginning that Tommy & Gill’s story wasn’t the only one that needed to be told.
I hope people enjoy reading their tale as much as I had writing it.
Small-town security guard Gill Martin has lived in Mystique Pointe his entire life. His dating prospects are non-existent and he doesn’t particularly like his job, but at least it’s better than unemployment. Besides, he hasn’t got any better ideas.
Big-city artist Tommy Hearne knows exactly what he wants out of life: a successful art career and a successful relationship. He also knows that living in Liberty City is his best chance for pursuing both. Unfortunately, for him, neither of these pursuits seem to be panning out quite to his liking.
When Tommy and his misfit band of friends roll into town for the Laissez Faire, Mystique Pointe’s annual music & art festival, worlds definitely collide. A fiery tryst sparks more than just a lust connection, but what happens when the weekend is over?
Story Excerpt
Tommy followed closely behind Gill as they made their way out to the parking lot. He did a quick head count and realized that there were only five of them and that lap-sitting wasn’t going to be on the menu after all. But when Kat took out her keys to trigger the unlock remote and Tommy saw the responding lights on a tiny Fiat 500, he almost cheered. There was barely room for two grown men in the back seat. Good thing he was willing to make the sacrifice and let the others ride in comfort.
“Amy, why don’t you sit up front?” Kat had opened the driver-side door and was about to climb in when she added, “You can pull the seat forward and let the two leggy boys have a bit more room. Sorry, Tommy—looks like you’re gonna have to squeeze in on top.”
Tommy had never been so happy to be the short man out. He waited to see which side of the car Alec chose, and made sure he was at the opposite door. And when Gill climbed in, his T-shirt rucked up slightly, giving Tommy the most delicious glimpse of skin above the most perfect denim-clad bubble butt he’d ever seen. Oh, thank goodness for well-lit parking lots.
“You getting in?” Gill had an expression on his face Tommy was unable to read. Although, if it they’d been working with a bit more than car lot lights, he was sure he’d be able to see another blush staining that handsome face.
Poking his head inside the car, he carefully leaned across Gill’s lap and braced himself on Alec’s leg before climbing in entirely and sitting carefully on top of Gill. There really wasn’t a lot of room in Kat’s car. Despite only being five-foot-eight, Tommy still had to keep his head ducked down to avoid bashing his skull against the roof. He also used it as more excuse to snuggle down closer to Gill. But, hey—not my fault the girl drives a Fiat!
“Sorry it’s such close quarters guys. The car was a graduation gift from my grandparents. I wouldn’t have picked it, but who says no to a free car, right?” Kat caught Tommy’s eye in the rearview mirror and winked. Yeah. Definitely not his girlfriend. Tommy didn’t get the feeling she was upset about his crawling all over Gill. Potential matchmaker, maybe? “Luckily the campground isn’t that far, so you won’t have to suffer long.”
“I don’t mind. Really.” Tommy wriggled slightly and rested his fingers at the back of Gill’s neck. It couldn’t be classed as a grope. He still wasn’t a hundred percent sure if that would even be welcomed. But it was a touch, and a delicate one at that. And it was enough for Tommy to feel the shiver that it elicited from Gill.
“Sorry, Gill. Hope I’m not crushing you.”
“Oh. No. You’re fine.” Gill’s voice was low and slightly hitched. His glasses had started to creep down his nose and Tommy reached up, without thinking, to adjust them.
“Don’t want to lose those.” They were so close that, had it been a colder night, Tommy’s breath would have fogged Gill’s lenses. And, fuck, didn’t that send indecent thoughts straight to his groin. Images of fogging up the car windows with Gill or, to be precise, images of what they might be doing in order to cause said situation, sent a message straight to Tommy’s dick. He fidgeted slightly, not wanting to reach down and adjust the hard-on he’d hoped he could keep at bay.
He was about to fidget again when the sound of Gill clearing his throat distracted him slightly from the problem at hand. And alerted him to another. Of course, describing the feeling of Gill’s answering erection under his ass as a problem couldn’t have been further from wrong. Gloriously, heroically magnificent, perhaps. But not a problem.
Tommy turned slightly to make eye contact with Gill but found the other man uncomfortably looking in the other direction. He twisted slightly, making sure his ass did a slow grind into Gill’s crotch as he did so. Yep. That got his attention.
Where to Buy
Evernight Publishing
Amazon US
Amazon CA
Amazon UK
All Romance eBooks
BookStrand
About L.D. Blakeley
A pragmatist with a romantic soul & a dirty mind, L.D. is a fan of horror movies, hot sex, and Happily Ever Afters. Easily distracted by shiny things, she’s a slightly neurotic, highly ambitious dreamer who enjoys dabbling in photography & pretending she can carry a tune.
In another life, L.D. was a newspaper reporter, an entertainment & music writer, travel writer, website content editor, and a marketing shill. Now she prefers to spend her time writing hot, steamy fiction (with a healthy dose of romance) about intriguing, sexy men. Of course, whether these pretty boys end up between the sheets with other gorgeous lads or up against a wall with a spicy and spirited heroine, all depends on which direction her imagination takes her on any given day.
Although she dreams of living some place isolated with an endless supply of wine and an infinite number of titles on her eReader, she currently lives in down-town Toronto with her husband and their rock star cat.
Where to find L.D. Blakeley
Website
Blog
Facebook
Twitter
Tumblr
InstagramGoodreads
Amazon Author Page
Mid Week Tease: Behind the Iron Cross #MidWeekTease #MWTease
It’s Wednesday? Well, we all know what that means! Courtesy of the lovely and talented Sandra Bunino, I’m sharing another teaser from Behind the Iron Cross, my delightfully kinky historical MMF romance set in 1923 Berlin. Here’s a flashback sequence where an 18-year-old Kat learns what her uncle’s Parisian friend Giselle really does.
Enjoy, and make sure to hit the list after the teaser to see other great Mid Week Teases!
In the aftermath of World War I, Berlin has become a hotspot of decadent pleasures, and American millionairess Kat Tracy is determined to enjoy each and every one of them with Sam Hellman, her late brother’s lover and her convenient “fiancé.” But when the two of them meet Friedrich von Bader, a former German Army officer turned reluctant prostitute, their wicked games take on a new meaning.
Dinner had been just as splendid as predicted, and Giselle had promised to take Katherine out at some point for tea and shopping. But Uncle William had run into some company owners at dinner and was inveigled into an impromptu business lunch the next day. Bart had slipped out of the hotel at a ridiculously early hour (or simply hadn’t come back in the first place, Katherine guessed). Her lady’s maid/chaperone Alice was pleasant enough (a huge improvement on the unfortunate Jane), but the poor woman was also a martyr to migraines. One of the dreadful headaches had struck just that morning, and Katherine had insisted that Alice go lie down in her room with a damp rag over her eyes until the dratted thing had run its course.
Which left Katherine at loose ends. She mused over the idea of visiting Notre Dame or the Louvre, but neither idea held much appeal. It wasn’t until she found one of Giselle’s letters in her trunk that a wonderful idea came to her.
It had been even easier than she’d thought. The doorman of the hotel had been more than happy to summon a large black taxi cab for her, giving the address in the ninth arrondissement to the crabbed driver. Feeling wonderfully daring, Katherine had made sure to tip the doorman, and the driver when he finally pulled up in front of the beautiful cream stone building with green shutters and black ironwork balconies full of greenery.
Surely visiting times in Paris didn’t differ that much from Bridgeport, Katherine reasoned as she went up to the large green door with its immaculate paint and gleaming brass trim. And Giselle had invited her out, after all. If the Parisian woman was otherwise occupied, the arrondissement’s collection of shops and galleries looked intriguing enough for an afternoon’s browse.
The door opened, revealing a maid in the classic black French uniform. She gave Katherine an oddly bold look, scrutinizing her from head to foot. “May I help you?”
“I’m here to see Madame Giselle, if she’s available.” Katherine held up the envelope with Giselle’s address on it in lieu of a calling card.
The maid smiled, her manner relaxing a bit. “You must be the new girl. Come in. But make sure you use the rear entrance from now on.”
Katherine frowned. The new girl?
Before she could say anything the maid stepped back, waving her through into a pretty little foyer tiled with a black and white chessboard floor and decorated with a huge arrangement of fresh flowers on a polished wooden table. The delicious scent of the flowers perfumed the air, but Katherine barely had time to appreciate it as the maid turned on her heel and headed up a flight of wide marble stairs. She had to hurry to keep up, grabbing her skirts as gracefully as possible and lifting them as she followed the maid to the second floor.
“Excuse me, I think I should explain—” Katherine tried to say as the maid stopped in front of a polished oak door.
“No need,” the maid said cheerfully. “Madame Giselle pays me very well. What happens here is no business of mine.”
Katherine tried to make sense of the words as the maid swung the door open, ushered Katherine into a little office that overlooked the boulevard. “Madame is busy with a client at the moment, but I’ll tell her you’re here as soon as they’re finished.” With a nod, she closed the door.
Boggled, Katherine turned in a circle to study the room. It held the unmistakable stamp of Giselle’s taste, from the comfortably upholstered green velvet chair behind the Louis XIV desk to the Tiffany lamps that would light the room at night. What it didn’t hold was an answer to the maid’s nonsensical phrases.
Madame is busy with a client. Katherine had assumed that Giselle, who always wore the most stylish gowns in a variety of greys and blacks, was a rich widow of one of Uncle William’s business partners. Now, however, she realized that she didn’t know very much about the elegant Parisian woman at all. Perhaps she teaches piano, or is a singing teacher. With Giselle’s warm honey voice, Katherine could easily imagine her as a retired opera singer who only took the most promising pupils. Did she think that we would look down on her for being an instructor? I can’t think of anything more wonderful and romantic than being an opera singer.
A muted sound, almost a cry, came from the far end of the office. Curious, Katherine headed there, studying the bookcases that lined the wall. After a moment she puzzled out that the central bookcase was actually a door painted to match the bookcases on either side. At eye level was a little circular flap attached to a small screw.
A brief touch revealed that the flap swiveled up, revealing a peephole. Katherine put her eye to it.
And gasped.
Powered by Linky Tools
Click here to view this Linky Tools list…
Marvelous Monday Reads: A Conquest Like No Other
Happy Monday, folks! Let’s kick a hot and sultry August off right with the steamy new erotic romance A Conquest Like No Other from Emma Anderson, now available from Evernight Publishing and other online retailers of erotic romance. Enjoy!
When Nikki Greene is kidnapped by a crime boss, the last thing she expects is for an even more dangerous man to rescue her. She’s already survived one brutal attack by a man claiming to care for her. She’s not in the market for love, even though her tattooed hero awakens urges she never expected to feel again—and some she’s never felt before.
Viper, a renowned playboy, doesn’t want a mate. He likes the freedom of taking a different partner to bed each night. But the moment Nikki enters his life, his bachelorhood is doomed. Now he must work past Nikki’s trust issues to win a place in her life and bed. He’s determined to prove that her scars are only skin-deep and together they can have it all.
But trouble is coming for Nikki. A menacing presence lurks on the fringes of her world, waiting for the chance to prove to Nikki that revenge isn’t sweet, but it is deadly. Can Viper save her this time, or will he lose her for good?
Story Excerpt
Nikki slumped with her back against the closed front door. To say she was relieved to see Viper leave was an understatement. Again her hormones reacted to him. Why they had to come to life after three years, she had no idea. And even worse yet, for her best friend’s new brother-in-law. The situation had disaster written all over it. Even if her fear would allow her to make a move on the unsuspecting man, her conscience wouldn’t. As he had pointed out, they were now family. And she couldn’t risk Gabby’s happiness by throwing herself at Viper. It would lead to uncomfortable family gatherings.
Pushing herself off the door, she attempted to eject her sexy rainbow-colored angel out of her mind as she went about getting herself ready for bed. By the time she was snuggled under the blankets, she was exhausted. Half an hour later, sleep still refused her. Her body needed something—something she knew B.O.B. could provide.
Reaching across to her bedside table drawer, she pulled out her purple vibrator. This silicone cock had been the only form of male company her body had allowed over these last three years. And he never disappointed her, except when he ran out of batteries.
Throwing the blankets back, she quickly removed her pajamas. The cool air hit her sensitive nipples, causing them to harden further. They were begging to be teased. Her hand molded around her tiny breast, roughly massaging it. The harsh manhandling had more juices leaking from her already flowing pussy. Her thumb and index finger found her pebbled nipple, pinching it hard.
A groan escaped her as her hips lifted from the mattress, seeking out its partner. The hand that held B.O.B. travelled lower. B.O.B.’s head circled her hypersensitive clit. Electricity raced through her whole being, enticing her orgasm closer to the surface.
As if on its own accord, B.O.B. found her entrance. Scooping up some of her escaped juices, it slowly entered her. Each thrust took her higher, but still it wasn’t enough to take her over the edge. Suddenly Viper’s image popped into her mind. No longer were her fingers pinching and pulling at her nipples. Instead, his mouth had engulfed her breasts, his teeth worrying her nipples and sending shock waves throughout her whole being. As for B.O.B., he had been replaced as well. Viper was carrying her body to the heavens, and she welcomed it. Her imagination took the fantasy further.
Her legs widened, allowing room for Viper’s large body. The thrusts were coming harder and faster. Her orgasm quickly approached, catapulting her over the edge. Still Viper’s body continued to drive into her. Suddenly he pulled out and turned her. With her head on the mattress and her backside in the air, he slammed back into her. At this angle it was enough to encourage another orgasm to make itself known. It danced around the edges, avoiding her pleas for completion. More punishing thrusts were delivered from behind. Then it came, a command her body seemed to be waiting for.
“Come for me, sweetheart.”
Light burst behind her closed eyelids right before she screamed her completion. As she tumbled back to earth she felt tears falling from her eyes. Her head was turned to the side, allowing the sheet and mattress to absorb them. It was then that she realized how uncomfortable she was. True to her fantasy, her backside was in the air, while her head rested upon the bed. One arm held her balanced while the other one was under her body. Her hand was between her legs, holding B.O.B. in her pussy.
As she went about cleaning B.O.B and remaking her bed she expected embarrassment to consume her. It never came. In its place was confusion. How could that fantasy have felt so real? In her mind, she felt his body against hers. Never before had any of her masturbating sessions felt like that.
The man she was trying to view as family had somehow accomplished the impossible. In her mind, he had truly been with her in this bed. Yet the fear that usually accompanied the idea of being sexually involved with a male was absent. How was that possible? Why was he having such an effect on her?
This man with his brightly painted skin and rusty red hair had her craving things she didn’t think were possible to ever want again—a sexual relationship. His messy locks with their just-out-of-bed look called to her fingers. They desperately wanted to delve into his thick mass of hair. His plump, kissable lips had her mouth watering and her chin itching. In her mind she could see the stubble rash that would appear after a kiss from her new fantasy go-to guy. How was she ever going to look at that man again without blushing?
She was glad that she didn’t have to see him every day. Otherwise she suspected her rampant hormones would have her doing something impetuous. With her hormones in overdrive she knew it wouldn’t be long before she threw herself at this man who was only being friendly with her because of Gabby’s relationship with Devil. She needed to minimize her exposure to Viper. It was the only way she wouldn’t embarrass Gabby and herself.
Where to Buy
Evernight Publishing
Amazon
All Romance eBooks
Bookstrand
Where to find Emma Anderson
Bookstrand
Reader’s Email
Author’s Email
Facebook
Blog
Tsu
Google+
Amazon
Goodreads
Manic Readers
Fabulous Friday Reads: The Racing Driver’s Wife
Let’s kick off this lovely weekend with Raven McAllan and the latest entry in her smouldering new series, Their Wives. The Racing Driver’s Wife is now available from Evernight Publishing and other purveyors of fine erotic romance. Take it away, Raven!
What is it with some men and their attitudes?
Hot bods, hot blooded and often hot tempered. You know, speak first, regret it later.
Yeah, them. They might make you shiver quiver and tingle—however that level of hotness can be hard to live with. They can’t help themselves, bless them, sometimes, when they try to shield their love from all the nasties that could affect them.
And we all know how damned annoying that is. Why do they think we’re such fragile little flowers we can’t cope. Because if they think that, sometimes, we begin to think it as well…
And that’s where the problems can start…
My first book in this series, called Their Wives is already out. (The Rock Star’s wife)
Racing driver Gael Lorenzo is used to taking his life in his hands, if only he could say the same for his errant wife. He meant his wedding vows, and there will never be another woman for him, but what can he do to win her back?
Darcy thought she knew the risks of being married to a man who lives for his sport. The reality of the race track, however, proves too much for her. Nevertheless, giving Gael up entirely, is not an option either.
When circumstances force them back into each other’s company, neither one of them can let this chance go. Together they are stronger than apart, and their marriage is worth fighting for, isn’t it?
Story Excerpt
Gael Lorenzo ducked the remote control as it flew through the air in his direction, and caught it in one hand.
“How on earth you ever get from A to B when your coordination is so bad I have no conception,” he said as he walked into the room and put the control down on the table. He made sure it was well out of Darcy’s arm reach. He knew how sneaky she could be if she thought the occasion warranted it. Damned if he wasn’t more nervous then before a race. He was under no illusion that the next few moments were going to be sticky. “That was more likely to hit the window than me.”
Darcy made a sound somewhere between a scream and a snort. “Ass. You scared the living daylights out of me. And as for your one-upmanship, how on earth you lie so successfully and don’t bat an eyelid, I have no conception,” Darcy said. “‛My wife is my life’,” she parroted and rolled her eyes. “Oh yeah, that’ll be right. After your car, your team and…”
“And nothing, cara.” One-upmanship? He’d thought he was very restrained. He made no mention of open doors, lack of security, self-preservation or the like. “You believe what you will, but I speak the truth. If my wife would let it be so.” He shrugged. “Then it would be. However, she chooses to live her own life, and I have to accept that.” He winced as he became oh-so-very Italian. It was a measure of his concern and the knowledge of just how important this meeting was.
Darcy turned toward the television where the bouncy idiot he’d had to endure warbled on in her happy-clappy manner. Gael braced himself. He knew what was about to come, and he’d hoped to speak to Darcy beforehand. It seemed a tractor and trailer, and a laden log lorry who just knew they owned the road, had put paid to that. He’d spent twenty minutes breathing their fumes, before passing in a spot only the brave or foolhardy would use. It wasn’t that you couldn’t see any oncoming traffic—the road ran straight for nigh on half a mile. It was the width of the ruts and gravel that was tricky. Gael got by with no more than an inch on each side and a dozen or so scratches from the gravel where it jumped up and scored the paintwork. As it was a hire car, he guessed that his chance of a cheap rental ever again had just disappeared down the toilet.
“…and so you say this woman is lying?” The voice reverberated around the room. “In fact you’re happily married? There is a wife, but she’s not hidden away somewhere? So why isn’t she with you? Are you estranged?”
Darcy turned to him, and if he had one wish, it would be to banish the pained look in her eyes. Heaven help him, he’d done his best to avert the interview, but some ferrety reporter had discovered he was married and of course it was full bodied fodder for the gossip columns. Gael knew fine and well how his boring, no companion, race, practice, test, train and sleep regime annoyed them. Even more so because in his youth he’d kept most of them in business.
“Cara, I…”
“Shh, I’m listening to what my husband has decided to say.” Darcy turned her back on him. “Even if he chooses not to say it to me. Strange, that.”
Gael spent a few seconds admiring the curve of her spine and the way a few tendrils of reddish brown hair tickled the nape of her neck before he shrugged and wandered into the kitchen. After several wrong attempts he found mugs and coffee and set the stovetop machine on the hotplate to percolate.
It was inevitable this day would come, but he wished it hadn’t been mid season, where his chances for in-depth discussion would be few and far between. Unless he could persuade Darcy to accompany him to the track, and after today there was less likelihood of that than persuading her to fly to the moon.
He was pouring the liquid into two mugs when a sound alerted him to her presence. She leaned against the doorjamb, her long legs bare and a tiny skirt and strappy top covering what needed to be covered to preserve her decency.
“What a load of cobblers you spouted. ‘My wife has a busy life and we prefer to have our time together without interruptions. Those moments are precious and I’m greedy enough not to want to share them with anyone else. Lucky for me she feels the same’.” Darcy parroted his explanation in the interview in a sarcastic tone. “Yuck, so icky-sicky. Why didn’t you just divorce me?” She held her sunglasses by one of the arms and spun them around before jamming them on her nose. “You have grounds. I left you.”
It was a pity, because Gael could no longer see her eyes to gauge her reaction to his words. “Sadly I couldn’t find any Italian coffee, but I’ve done the best I could.”
“You get whatever was on offer and lump it. I buy for myself, not for unwelcomed guests.”
He winced very theatrically, and was immediately ashamed when she coloured and looked away from him.
“Why should I divorce you? I took my vows in all faith, and intended to abide by them. I still do. In sickness and in health, in good times and bad. Etcetera. The fact we are apart does not negate my love for you. That strengthens every day. It is above everything. It’s your choice not to be with me, and I have to accede to your preference.” He took a swallow of coffee and grimaced. “It was pigs’ swill on sale, cara. You were robbed if they called it coffee. False advertising.”
“Join the real world, caro. See how the most of us live.”
Where to Buy
Evernight Publishing
Amazon US
All Romance eBooks
BookStrand
About Raven McAllan
A multi-published, best selling author of erotic romance, Raven lives in Scotland, along with her husband, in a house much too big for them—their children having flown the nest—surrounded by beautiful scenery, which inspires a lot of the settings in her books.
She is used to sharing her life with the occasional deer, red squirrel, and lost tourist, to say nothing of the scourge of Scotland—the midge. As once she is writing she is oblivious to everything else, her lovely long-suffering husband is learning to love the dust bunnies, work the Aga, and be on stand-by with a glass of wine.
Where to find Raven McAllan
Website
Blog
Personal Facebook Page
Author Facebook Page
Twitter
Amazon US Author Page
Amazon UK Author Page
Nicola’s Sunday Shoutout: Wren Michaels @authorwren
Today’s Sunday Shoutout goes to Wren Michaels, whose new book Vexed is now available from Evernight Publishing and other online purveyors of fine erotic romance. Take it away, Wren!
Thanks for sharing in the release of my first full-length novel! I hope you enjoy reading about Kena and Luc as much as I enjoyed writing them. There’s plenty of action, romance, and Vodou for everyone! I did a little Q&A about the book:
- How did you dream up the dynamics of your characters? Originally the story was going to be completely different when I wrote the first 5000 words or so of the book. But after I came back from the 2014 Romantic Times convention in New Orleans, I was inspired to write something with a Vodou/NOLA flair. So the book took a twist and became so much more than I ever imagined. I wanted a strong heroine and an alpha male. But Luc ended up being more of an Alpha/Beta blend. He’s not really one or the other. He’s quite complex. Kena ended up being a witty heroine who took things into her own hands.
- Do you have any habits that get you in the writing frame of mind? Music is my biggest influence. I listened to mainly instrumental gaming soundtracks while writing. But one of my Critique Partners burned me a CD of music she thought would be perfect for this book, and it was filled with great songs by The Black Keys, Rolling Stones, Zepplin, Jack White and Muse. It ended up really making scenes come alive for me.
- How much real life do you put into or influences your books? In this book I tried to make the characters reflect their Vodou based deities. I did take some artistic liberties and spun a few things, but I did a lot of research to make sure a lot of the intricacies of their actual descriptions and quirks made it into the story.
Vodou stole her life. A gay ghost stole her boots. And the man who stole her heart stole her memories. Kena plans to get it all back.
Ex-cop Kena’s life is filled with regret, beer, and Cheetos. That is, until her ghostly roomie sends her dumpster diving, leading her to a sexy stranger named Luc and a fate she’d rather not remember. As Kena’s memories resurface, so do her feelings for Luc, the man she’s secretly been in love with for the last thousand years. And he needs her for more than a stroll down memory lane.
Vodou spirits, known as Loa, have been trapped in human form, and are trying to make their way back to the spirit world. But Luc’s brother is possessed by a vengeance demon conjured at the hands of NOLA’s crime syndicate kingpin. Saving him means damning herself to a spirit prison in a loveless, arranged union with the very man she’s supposed to rescue. But not helping Luc’s brother sentences him to death, leaving New Orleans in the hands of black magick, and losing Luc forever.
Story Excerpt
After stripping out of the wet clothes, I wrapped the towel around myself and wandered out to his room. On the bed lay a white long-sleeve button-down shirt. With a hard swallow, I dropped the towel and picked up the shirt, pulling it to my face. I took a long, hard sniff. Laundry detergent. Of course. Did I think it would smell like him?
Like he’d give you a dirty shirt to wear, Kena.
Thankful he didn’t witness me in idiot-mode, I slid myself into the shirt and was caught mid-button when he knocked at the door.
“Are you decent?” He pushed the door open a crack.
“I’m clothed, if that’s what you mean. Decent is debatable at the moment.” Purposely leaving the top three buttons undone, I worked my way to the bottom button as he walked in.
He halted mid-stride and looked at me. His chest rose and fell in quick spurts, training his eyes over me from head to toe. Veins traversed the length of his arm as he clenched his fists at his sides. “I don’t wear underwear, so I apologize I have no bottoms. It’s all I had that was long enough to cover you.” His position relaxed as he leaned against the mahogany armoire.
“Anything’s better than cold, sopping-wet clothes.” I ran a finger through my hair, now slowly drying into loose stringy curls.
“So, are you going to tell me what happened tonight?” Folding his arms across his broad chest, bulging muscles stretched the navy-blue fabric barely covering his biceps.
I shook my head. “Not until I get some honesty from you, big guy.”
With a tilt of his head, he donned a sly grin. “You haven’t asked the right questions.”
“Is this a game for you? Do you enjoy messing with people’s lives? Do you get off on some fucked-up high being in total control?” My fingernails burrowed into the palm of my hand. Everything in me wanted to slap the shit out of him and then ride him like a cowboy.
He pushed off the dresser and walked over to me, lowering his head coming to a stop inches from my face. “You’re the one in control and yet you refuse to acknowledge it. You refuse to let your mind accept it. Stop playing and start being.”
“What do you want from me?” I yelled, a little louder than intended.
“I want you to be you. I want you to”—he stopped and dropped his gaze to my lips, and then slowly made his way back up to my eyes—“come back.”
“Kiss me.” The words rushed from my lips without another thought. My heart hammered so hard in my chest I thought it would shatter my rib cage.
His breathing quickened. A low growl rumbled in his throat. “Don’t do this to me, Kena.”
“Don’t do what? You’re the one doing things to me.” I slammed my hands against his chest and he sailed across the room, his back hitting the dresser behind him. “Shit! I’m sorry.” I reached out for him with a trembling hand.
Fuck, I’d done it again.
He shook his head and straightened himself up. In a blur of movement, he shot across the room and grabbed onto either side of my shirt, yanking me up to his face. “You want me to kiss you?”
“Yes,” I said in more of whooshing sound than a word.
He pressed his lips against my neck and his fingers curled into the fabric of the shirt, pulling me onto my tiptoes. “You don’t even know who I am.”
“I don’t care.” Words no longer made sense to me, only his touch spoke a language I could understand.
He laughed as he pushed me against the wall. Gripping the back of my head with the entire palm of his hand, he splayed the other across my cheek, his thumb resting against my jawline. Tilting my head back, he hovered his lips over mine. “You will.”
His lips crushed against my mouth.
With a sweep of his tongue, he devoured me into a kiss the likes of which I’ve never experienced before in my life. He punished my mouth with his tongue, sliding it over mine in a delicious dance of ecstasy and aggression. His hold on me was not that of violence, but of passion. The way his fingertips eased against my face, yet held me there as if he was scared to let go, revealed a vulnerability. He may be a man of few words who knew how to play the vague card, but his body and actions gave him away.
I arched into him, and he pinned me back against the wall with his hip. Clawing at his shirt, I ripped it out of his jeans and slid my fingers over his heated skin. A surge of energy rushed my fingertips as they glided along his body, electrifying me.
“Fuck, Kena,” he hissed, pulling back from the kiss.
In a movement so fast it blurred everything around me, he shot out the door, slamming it behind him. He left me gasping, clinging to the wall behind me just to remain standing. My legs wobbled like Jell-O as I stumbled to the bed and collapsed. He sucked all the air from my body and replaced it with an ache, a driving need for more of him.
What the hell was he?
Where To Buy
Evernight Publishing
Amazon
All Romance EbooksBookStrand
SmashWords
Barnes & Noble
About Wren Michaels
Wren Michaels hails from the frozen tundra of Wisconsin where beer and cheese are their own food groups. But a cowboy swept her off her feet, and carried her away below the Mason-Dixon line where she promptly lost all tolerance for snow and cold. They decided they’d make beautiful babies together and they got it right on the first try. Now Wren lives happily ever after in the real world and in the worlds of her making, where she creates book boyfriends for the masses to crave.
Where to find Wren Michaels
Adventures in Medicine
So back in April I woke up with my left knee hurting. Since that’s my good knee (I dislocated my right knee in 1984 and chipped the underside of the patella, requiring surgery to reset it. Since no one told me I would need PT to break the resulting adhesions, it’s been borked ever since), I swung directly into treatment mode with ice, ACE bandages and NSAIDS.
It got a little bit better. Then it got worse again. Then it got better, then it got worse, etc. I finally got fed up with hobbling everywhere and waking up in pain every night and made an appointment at an orthopedic specialist on Monday. Whoa. The building looked like a five-star hotel, check-in and payment were all done on a tablet, and my knee x-rays were done in-house and digitized for the doc’s analysis. Orthopedic medicine has come a long way since 1984, let me tell you.
The doctor himself was very nice, addressed me as “young lady” (I didn’t want to disabuse him of his illusions but I suspect we’re the same age), and told me that I had a bit of arthritis under the kneecap which was causing the pain. He also confirmed that there was no need for surgery (YAY!!!) and that meds and PT should be sufficient to resolve the problem. After some discussion I wound up getting a scrip for Celebrex (yes, I know all about the side effects. I’m not taking it every day, and I won’t take it once I get the knee back up and running, but right now it’s damned nice to have nothing hurting for the first time since April) and an appointment with a physical therapist, and will go back in a month for review.
They took x-rays of both knees, I’m assuming for comparison, and he did say, “You know your other knee isn’t normal, right?” I explained about 1984. He said, “Yeah, that would do it.”
Fast forward to today, where I had my first PT appointment. The nice therapist put my through my paces and we discovered that my muscle strength in my left glute/hamstring/hip is, in a word, pathetic. Since impact exercises like walking and jogging are not really a good idea right now, I’m to swim, cycle, do a very moderate amount of elliptical, and perform a series of low impact isometric exercises that will strengthen the surrounding muscles and keep the joint lubricated. I have one PT appointment a week for the next three weeks, and after that we’ll re-evaluate and see if I can discontinue PT and do everything on my own. The therapist couldn’t say whether or not the exercises would actively help my borked knee, but they can’t hurt so I’m to do them on both legs.
In addition to the thirty minutes of cycling and low-impact exercises at PT, I just finished fifteen minutes of gentle lunges, squats, and step ups in the pool as requested by my therapist. I am walking like an orangutan, but by God I did it. Now I just need a Pilates ring and I’m all set. The cats are going to LOVE the floor exercises, I know that already. “Mom’s on the ground? She must want to play with us, yay!”
Mid Week Tease: Behind the Iron Cross #MidWeekTease #MWTease
Guess what? I’m not posting anything from Behind the Iron Cross this week! I know, I know, but it’s because I’m deep in edits for Deep Water and I decided I wanted to mix things up a little bit. So here’s a tease from a WIP I’m calling Pharaoh’s Desire, in which hunky grad student Kellen Fox accidentally summons a time-traveling pharaoh and his queen and winds up being pressed into personal service between the pair. In this scene, Kel thinks he’s hallucinating, but Pharaoh Senekenre is about to set his mind straight (so to speak) about that.
Enjoy, and make sure to hit the list after the teaser to see other great Mid Week Teases!
“I know this is going to be a weird question, but has anyone ever told you that you look exactly like Pharaoh Senekenre?” Kel said.
The man smiled. “Well, yes, seeing as I am Pharaoh Senekenre.” His smile widened, becoming a thing of sexy delight. “Who did you think I was, young scholar?”
Kel found himself grinning back at the handsome man. “Well, a hallucination, to be honest. So you’re telling me you’re Senekenre. Fourteenth king of the 17th Dynasty. You’re a genuine Egyptian Pharaoh, and you’re standing in front of me. Alive.”
Something flickered in Sekenenre’s eyes, sharpening them. He gazed around the chamber, finally spotting the deconstructed bed, and went pale under the bronze tan. “Gods above and below,” he whispered. “It worked?”
“What worked?”
The pharaoh spun back to Kel. “Amhemet’s plan,” he said, fear and excitement warring in his expression. “Have I traveled to the future as he promised?”
Kel blinked. “Uh…”
“He said he would use his magic to send us to another time for a single night.” Senekenre stepped to the display case holding the hematite scarab, pressing his palm against the glass. “It was the only way to secure a future for my queen and myself. He said that when the right man found the spell and invoked it, the bridge would be formed, and we would be transported.”
The words hidden inside the scarab blazed through Kel’s mind. Amhemnet, first advisor to Pharaoh Senekenre, calls on you, O Ra. Help me build a bridge for Pharaoh and his Queen.
His brain blipped into neutral for a moment. “Wait. You’re telling me this Amhemnet guy used magic to send you to another time? To this time?” he managed.
“Yes, thanks to you. I take it you invoked the spell?”
“If you mean I read it out loud, yeah. I didn’t know it was a spell.” Swallowing hard, Kel forced himself to reach out and touch Senekenre’s arm. It was warm under his fingertips. “Oh, shit,” he whispered. “I’m not hallucinating. You’re real. You’re really here!”
“Yes, I know.” Senekenre came closer, stopping just a foot away from Kel. At this distance, Kel could see the dark five o’clock shadow under the other man’s tan skin, and Senekenre’s thick, sooty eyelashes. “You thought I was a dream, young scholar?”
“Uh, yeah.” The logical part of Kel’s brain screamed at him to step back, get the hell away from the exhibit space and its time-traveling visitor. The rest of his brain just wanted to ogle Senekenre’s broad shoulders, cut abs, and sleekly muscled legs. The man wasn’t bulked out like a gym rat, but he was definitely in prime condition. “I mean, we don’t get a lot of visitors from the 17th Dynasty, you know?” He winced at how idiotic he sounded. “I’m sorry. This is all a big shock to me. Could we start over again, sir? Sire? Your majesty?”
“Sire will do, young scholar.” Senekenre’s head tilted to one side, openly considering him. “But what land is this, that produces such beautiful men?”
Aaaand the long-dead pharaoh is flirting with me. Holy shit. Kel couldn’t remember anything in the research materials about Senekenre being gay or bi. But that didn’t make it impossible, either. His pulse sped up at the pharaoh’s jaw-droppingly sexy smile. “Uh, you’re in the United States of America, sire. It’s a country far to the west of your kingdom, across a large ocean. It didn’t exist in your time.”
“Oh. And are all the men here like you?” Senekenre said, stepping closer. He reached out to stroke the line of Kel’s jaw. “Such pure, smooth skin, and your hair, the color of a winter sunset. If you were of my time, I would make you a member of my court, simply so that I could look upon you every day.”
Kel licked dry lips, willing his cock to behave itself. “Just look?”
Senekenre smiled. “Hmm. Perhaps … kiss?” He leaned forward, brushing his soft full lips against Kel’s.
Oh, holy God, yes. Kel relaxed, letting himself sink into the kiss. The pharaoh’s lips were masculine, but full and very warm. Senekenre’s tongue slipped between his lips and he met it eagerly, licking and teasing. Senekenre devoured him in return, sending shocks of need along Kel’s nerves and straight to his groin. His arms slid around the pharaoh’s waist, fingers playing along the hard, ridged small of Senekenre’s back.
They both pulled back at the same time, panting and grinning. “Wow,” Kel said. “If that’s how royals kiss, I can understand the interest in William and Harry.”
“Who?”
“Never mind.” He dove back in, sucking one firm, full lip between his own, then the other. The pharaoh chuckled against his mouth, tongue darting in and out in an achingly sensual tease. One hand came to rest on Kel’s chest, then trailed down his body, brushing against his hardening cock.
Kel gasped softly, twitching. “Oh.”
Senekenre made an approving noise. “You like that, I take it?”
“Oh, yeah.”
“Good. I have never seen this type of clothing before. How does it come off?”
Powered by Linky Tools
Click here to view this Linky Tools list…
Wicked Wednesday Reads: Bella’s Beast
It’s time once again to help you over your Hump Day and spice up your week. Today I’m featuring the deliciously spooky Bella’s Beast by the talented LeTeisha Newton. Take it away, LeTeisha!
Isabella Thomas has a problem that she can’t take care of. Her brother, Nate Thomas, is a compulsive gambler that can’t say know to the rush of another big win—no matter the losses that have taken everything from Isabella to save him.
This time, Isabella has no house, car, or funds to give up for collateral and her only option is Elijio Vargas, the Beast of the Darkness, a man cursed to walk in the daylight as a wolf. The Beast chooses to save her brother—under one condition: Nate’s debt is now Isabella’s, and the new deal is for her body.
Isabella can’t stop herself from giving in to Elijio, and he can’t stop himself from remembering that he does have a heart, and she’s quickly stealing it. Will Isabella be saved, or will Elijio have to show just how much of a beast he has to be?
Story Excerpt
She stared at Elijio’s broad back, so in awe that she felt her blood quickening as he moved. His muscles rolled under the black T-shirt he wore, his long legs eating up the distance in dark jeans. His attire didn’t fit the home in any way. He struck his own path. Had she lost her mind? She’d planned to do this, give herself to save her brother, but the reality was more than she bargained for. She had seen the heat in his eyes, the bulge in his pants when he’d told her how she’d pay him. She had no doubt that he would make demands on her body.
I’d pay him, her subconscious screamed, and Bella shook her head. She had to be going crazy. She was supposed to be meeting her fate as a dutiful and honor bound sister, not an eager woman wanting the touch of a man who set her soul on fire. She tried to be the former, but her body was acting the latter. Elijio pulled a slim phone out of his back pocket as she followed him, and she heard, barely, his conversation.
“I need Pace … Yes.” He paused with the phone to his ear. “It’s Elijio. Pace, I’ll pay the debt for Nate Thomas.” Elijio raised one eyebrow before narrowing his eyes and spoke slowly into the phone. “He’s covered. He needs to be home, in one piece and no worse than he is right now, within the hour.” He paused once more, listening into the phone. His voice, when he spoke again, was colder than ice. “Don’t make me find you, Pace. We both know that isn’t what you want.” He listened again. “Good. I’ll have the amount wired. How much? Done.” He disconnected the call and slid the phone back in his pocket.
“Twenty million,” he said to her.
“What?” she stammered.
“That’s how much your brother is in for. Twenty million. I’ve taken care of it. If you need the proof, my butler will bring you the paperwork and you’ll get proof of life within the hour.”
Bella stumbled, nearly falling, but Elijio spun and grabbed her, faster than should have been possible. She sucked in her breath, that same familiar shock twisting through her. Heat blazed over her nerve endings as she curled her fingers, gripping his biceps in confusion. No one, ever in her life, could make her lose her head like he could. His eyes dilated as he started at her, nostrils flaring as he inhaled roughly. His tongue flicked out of his mouth, as he ran it over his lips, tasting the air. God help her, but she wanted him to taste her. She gripped him harder, pulling him toward her without even realizing what she was doing until his face was close to hers. She felt heavy, her pussy throbbing with her heartbeat and her mouth going dry. She wondered what he would taste like. If his tongue would be slick and cool, or hot and damp. She wanted him. She wanted to give in. She couldn’t look away from those eyes.
“Please,” she whimpered, not sure if she was asking for his kiss, or begging him to release his spell on her. She gasped, but before she could say anything, his mouth was on hers. His tongue slid into her lips, sliding wetly against hers. He didn’t ask, or seek, he dominated. He disentangled her arms from his biceps and made her clasp her hands up over his shoulders and behind his neck. His strong hands gripped her head, turning her head for a better fit. His lips, full and yet firm, glided over hears with masterful ease. She moaned, the juice-laced taste of his tongue making her head spin. No other part of his body other than his hands and mouth touched hers, but she felt the connection deep in her gut. Her nipples hardened, her stomach shook, and her pussy moistened. This was desire, this was lust. All thoughts of being here for payment flew from her mind.
She couldn’t think of any reason not to be in his arms. It felt too right. Too explosive to ignore. She pushed against him. The rock solid shape of his abs slid against her ribcage as her breasts were crushed against his diaphragm. Again she was struck by his height, and the way he curved around her. Her touch must of triggered something because he gathered her up into his arms and lifted her off her feet. He broke the kiss and nipped her bottom lip. She swallowed convulsively as he sucked his way down the side of her throat. He bit at the pulse at the base of her throat.
“Ah,” she cried out as he licked the sting away, only to do it again.
This man was rearranging her, and she couldn’t fight it. She sank into him, tightening her arms around his neck and sliding her fingers into his hair.
He growled, the sound rumbling through her as he pushed her up against a wall. The shock of the cold had her arching her back, forcing her body even closer to him. The shift rubbed his cock over her teasingly. She wrapped her legs around him on instinct and he ground his cloth-covered cock against her. Her thighs shook as she held him close and fought the urge to open wider for him. She whimpered and moaned. She thrashed against him and pulled him close. She fell under the wave of his desire as he took her mouth again in a punishing kiss. She could do nothing more than hold him tight against her. His hands left her back and traced their way to her front. He lifted enough away from her to mold her breasts, plumping them with skillful strokes.
“That’s right, baby, give in,” he said, and his voice galvanized her. What was she doing?
“Stop,” she said, between deep breaths. His eyes flared with something, something she couldn’t described before he stepped back, letting her fall to her feet hard enough to jar her teeth.
“You knew what you were here for.”
“Give me a second,” she said.
“I did my part of the bargain, but it’s just as easy to change it. Each time you sleep with me, it’ll take a million off your debt. I’m sure this is the best paying job you’ve had in your life.” Before she could think she reached up and slapped him, the sound echoing in the hallway. Her hand stung from the impact. Elijio roared. Actually stepped back from her, crouched, and roared. The sound filled the hallway, and sending fear curling through her.
He didn’t look like a man. His teeth were sharp, like canines, his face twisting and contorting until he didn’t look human, and his eyes snapping to gold. She screamed, frozen, until he took a step forward.
Where to Buy
Evernight Publishing
Amazon
All Romance eBooks
About LeTeisha Newton
Writing professionally since 2008, LeTeisha has spanned from Fantasy to Interracial Romance on her road to getting the jumping characters out of her head. Most days she’s pretty color blind, unless it’s a great shade of red (then she can’t ignore it). Other times she’s plotting her next twenty books and then remembering that the computer can’t read her thoughts and doesn’t type at lightning speed. Either way, she just can’t seem to get enough of quill to paper…or eh…keyboard strokes, apparently.
Where to find LeTeisha Newton
Mid Week Tease: Behind the Iron Cross #MidWeekTease #MWTease
It’s Wednesday? Well, we all know what that means! Courtesy of the lovely and talented Sandra Bunino, I’m sharing another teaser from Behind the Iron Cross, my delightfully kinky historical MMF romance set in 1923 Berlin. Yay — sex!
Enjoy, and make sure to hit the list after the teaser to see other great Mid Week Teases!
In the aftermath of World War I, Berlin has become a hotspot of decadent pleasures, and American millionairess Kat Tracy is determined to enjoy each and every one of them with Sam Hellman, her late brother’s lover and her convenient “fiancé.” But when the two of them meet Friedrich von Bader, a former German Army officer turned reluctant prostitute, their wicked games take on a new meaning.
The Fräulein wiggled past him and sat, hands resting on the chair arms. She’d taken off her tailored suit in the bathroom, and was only wearing a grey silk chemise now. He could smell her perfume and the scent of her skin, and a hint of something warmer, more intoxicating underneath.
She peered down at him, bistre eyes revealing nothing. “Have you ever kissed a woman between her legs, colonel?”
The idea was dizzying. “No,” he confessed.
“Good. I can teach you the proper way to do it, then.” Her hands moved to her lap, sliding the grey silk up her thighs in a slow, teasing movement, like a curtain rising. His mouth went dry when he saw the tops of her stockings and the black satin garters revealed, and then the dark curls he’d fantasized about.
She spread her thighs, revealing the glistening flesh there. The warm scent intensified, wafting into his brain and lighting it up with desire. “Isn’t it pretty?” she murmured, running a slender finger down and up the dark pink lips, catching on the tiny nub that crowned them. She rolled her fingertip around it, humming at the sensation. “Oh, that feels so nice. I want you to kiss me here, on my clit.”
She eased closer and he stretched until he could feel her heat on his lips, smell that rich, earthy scent that was the core of a woman. Hesitantly, he brushed a kiss over the tiny nub, catching it between his lips a little and dragging them across it. A louder hum was his reward.
“Do that again,” she purred, “then lick it.”
He followed her orders, surprised at the salt-sweet flavor of her. He tried running the flat of his tongue across the nub, flicking it with the tip of his tongue. This time, she gasped.
“Initiative. I like that,” she laughed. The instructions continued; mouth the supple outer lips, tease the delicate frilled inner lips with little sucking nibbles, slip his tongue deep inside her and press hard against the upper wall. He did it all, feeling his face grow wet with her juices as he licked, sucked, and kissed her.
He returned to her clit, stroking it now with his tongue and listening to her little encouraging whimpers and moans. He almost gasped into her when a warm, wet finger stroked between the cheeks of his ass, carefully pressing against the furled muscle there until it was allowed in.
Powered by Linky Tools
Click here to view this Linky Tools list…
Nicola Cameron Writes 