Category Archives: Evernight Publishing
Note to self
Must stop haunting the Evernight website to see how close Two to Tango is to the top of the Coming Soon list (it’s currently at number 3, by the way). The final edits have been turned in with a most appropriate dedication, I dare say, and I know Sour Cherry Designs are currently working on the cover, so I could have a cover and publication date any time now.
Checks inbox.
Yep, any time now. Aaaaaaany time now.
Have I mentioned how much I love ebook publication? It soothes the impatient 3-year-old in me.
Okay, on to other news — as of yesterday I hit the midway point on Breaker Zone (also had an almost 6K day, which was astounding), which means it’s all downhill from here. I really was hoping to have the MS done by tomorrow, but when you get handed not one but two sets of edits to be turned in within two weeks those get first dibs on your time. But it’s all okay because with any luck I’ll be typing The End in a week or so.
And that’s just fine with me because, Lord, Iron Cross is singing a siren song and I really, REALLY want to polish that baby off and 1) get it sent off to my betas, 2) clean it up, and 3) start the submission process to agents. I’ve got a really good feeling about this one, people.
Marvelous Monday Reads: Unholy Matrimony
Hello, and welcome to another edition of Marvelous Monday Reads, angels! Today I’m participating in a blog tour for Roane Publishing to promote their latest publication Unholy Matrimony by Sonny Zae.
To celebrate the release, Roane Publishing is giving away an eCOPY of UNHOLY MATRIMONY, as well as a $10 Amazon Gift Card. To enter the raffle, click here.
And now, here’s an interview with the main character supplied by Roane Publishing — read on!
What do you look for in a woman?
Interviewer: Tell me, Sonny, as an infamous lover, what do you look for in a woman?
Sonny: The word is notorious, as in Sonny the Scoundrel, the notorious lover. As a lover, I am both infamous and notorious. Have you never done an interview before? Did you not hear the stories about me? As to what I look for in a woman, she should be lovely, of course, tall and willowy, with long, cascading hair. But she should also be able to work and cook and clean, so she can have big, muscular arms.
Interviewer: Ah, I think I know where this is going. You like a big, strong woman who can slap you around a little, don’t you.
Sonny: No, do not be ridiculous! It is only so she can work hard, supporting me if necessary.
Interviewer: Fine, I’ll take your word for it, for now. But I know what you like, and know your penchant for falling for women who keep a tight rein on you.
Sonny: Contrary to the ugly rumors that persist about me, no woman has ever put a bridle on Sonny the Scoundrel.
Author: What about a riding crop?
Sonny: No comment. What happened to your questions about the women I prefer?
Author: Right. So, tall and with long hair and big biceps is how you like your women. What else? A good sense of humor?
Sonny: No.
Interviewer: Wealthy?
Sonny: Certainly. That goes without saying.
Interviewer: What about personality?
Sonny: Optional.
Interviewer: Come on, that is the most important part of finding love, isn’t it? What was it about Ariella that drew you to her?
Sonny: Fair enough. Ariella has personality, and loads of it. She is a very smart girl and knows how to get the better in any business deal.
Interviewer: And your respect that? Admire her for it?
Sonny: Of course.
Interviewer: But could you trust her?
Sonny: Certainly not!
Interviewer: Then how could you find her so attractive?
Sonny: It is … I suppose because she is so much like me, both strikingly beautiful on the outside, and ruthless and calculating on the inside.
Interviewer: So, what is the probability of impending marriage?
Sonny: Pretty good, if she plays her cards right.
How will you survive on your own once Grandpap is gone?
Interviewer: Sonny, how old is your grandfather, the wizard Zuthar Zaeffom?
Sonny: Older than the oldest tree in the forest.
Interviewer: And how old would that be?
Sonny: He must be drawing up on one-hundred and fifty years of age.
Interviewer: That old? How old are you?
Sonny: Thirty-three.
Interviewer: So then, hold on, if your mother was thirty when she gave birth to you, then at the time you were born, Grandpap would be around one-hundred?
Sonny: If you say so. I never engage in tasks so mundane as mathematics. It is quite beneath me.
Interviewer: Have you never wondered how old your grand-sire was when he begat your mother?
Sonny: No.
Interviewer: So, in your world, it is of no concern to bear a child out of wedlock?
Sonny: It is considered most inappropriate.
Interviewer: Then how did your Grandpap avoid being punished by the villagers?
Sonny: He is a wizard! No one talks back to a wizard. He can do what he wants, when he wants.
Interviewer: Then what about you? What will you do when he is dead and is no longer around to protect you whenever you get your … tail feathers in a trap?
Sonny: It will be a problem, I am sure. No one in the village cares overmuch for me. When Grandpap kicks off, I will not have a champion here.
Interviewer: What will happen?
Sonny: The villagers will likely chase me into the woods with torches and scythes.
Interviewer: What is your plan for that day?
Sonny: Plan? I have no plan … save running for my life.
If you could have only one wizarding power, what would it be?
Interviewer: Sonny, if you could have only one wizarding power, what would it be?
Sonny: That is the most difficult question you have asked me. There are so many magical powers I have coveted. Let me see. Of course, my first thought is that I crave the desire to turn objects into goald.
Interviewer: Alchemy?
Sonny: Yes, most definitely. Then I could glamour any number of stones or twigs to look like goald, and I would be able to drink for free every day for the rest of my life.
Interviewer: What about the ability to mesmerize?
Sonny: True, that would be a wonderful magical power to wield. But at times it could be a bothersome amount of work to push people around. I would much rather they anticipate what I wanted and do it without needing to be compelled by me.
What is your most outrageous secret?
Interviewer: Tell us, Sonny the Scoundrel, what is your most outrageous secret?
Sonny: What secret do I harbour that I would never want anyone to know? Only that I am a warm, sensitive, and caring person deep inside.
Interviewer: Oh, come on! I read the story.
Sonny: What do you mean?
Interviewer: I suppose there could be a good person hidden deep inside of you, but no one has ever seen that side of Sonny Zaeffom. Seriously, what would shock the people who know you if they were ever to find out?
Sonny: Truly, I have no secrets.
Interviewer: I could interview everyone in your village and dig up some dirt.
Sonny: Oh, very well. My shameful secret is that I once tricked a visitor to our village into dressing up as a … no, that was not a secret. Ummm, you will tell this to no one?
Interviewer: Of course not. What?
Sonny: Strange, as I have never told this to anyone, and have buried it so deeply in my memory that I have not thought about it in years.
Interviewer: Go on.
Sonny: As the grandson of a wizard, it is no secret that I have a pedigree that shames every other person around me. I never violate my station in life by doing common labor. Work is for peasants and dull-witted clods. But despite that, I once … umm, this is very hard for me to talk about.
Interviewer: Take your time. Would you like a cup of tea?
Sonny: Do you have any ale? Tea does not loosen tongues. As I was saying, I had occasion to visit a distant relative several years ago, who lived in a distant village. Hagan was a cooper in the village of Trowspood, widowed and with a small daughter. His daughter was exceptionally cute, only five years old, with curly brown hair and the most serious eyes I had ever seen. When I arrived, he was finishing an order of oak barrels. Hagan’s customer had arrived with a wagon and waited for Hagan to finish the last barrel.
Interviewer: What did you do during this time?
Sonny: I … played with the child. I entertained her, played games with her, and kept her busy and happy until Hagan had finished his business. There was not much day left. Hagan cooked an evening meal and we talked and downed a few ales, then went to bed. By the next morning, when I set out to walk home, she was calling me “Da-Da.” Is that not the most wonderful thing you have ever heard?
Interviewer: So your deep, dark secret is that you once spent a day with a young child and actually didn’t hate the experience?
Sonny: Umm … yes. Do not think me a monster.
Interviewer: Well, as sordid as that all sounds, you haven’t answered my question, haven’t admitted to some dark, hidden personal shame. What is so bad about being tricked into doing manual labor? Or amusing a small child for a few hours?
Sonny: You really expect me to answer that?
Interviewer: Yes, I do. Or I shall not give you this shiny, new quarter, as promised.
Sonny: Oh, very well! Why is it painful to talk about? Because I actually enjoyed it! I labored with my hands, cleaning the child’s face when she was covered in food, and carrying her around like a mere pack animal. Several people in Trowspood saw me do so. At least they were not aware of how I debased myself, did not know who I was or where I was from. There, are you happy now?
What is the most dastardly deed you have ever done?
Interviewer: Sonny, what is the most dastardly deed you have ever done?
Sonny: Oh, I cannot pick a single favourite out of all of my achievements.
Interviewer: It doesn’t have to be the worst thing you have ever done, just one of the many really terrible things you have done.
Sonny: Very well, but it is still a difficult choice for me to make. Let me see. Once, when Abnelius and I went to Cappersham’s tavern in the early afternoon, Abnelius drank so much that he fell over outside the tavern and I could not rouse him, he was so besotted.
Interviewer: So the dastardly deed was that you were a bad influence on this Abnelius fellow?
Sonny: Oh, no, I was not the bad influence, Abnelius was. That is not what the story is about. Abnelius is as old as Grandpap, but much shorter and scrawnier, with skinny little bow legs. But he can put away the ale, he can. But on this particular evening, he did not hold it well, and staggered outside to relieve himself and did not return. When I found him, I could not get him to wake up.
Interviewer: That sounds like a problem.
Sonny: Surely it was! He was buying. And without him, Capper would not let me back into his tavern.
Interviewer: What did you do?
Sonny: What could I do? I waited for him to revive, to regain his senses.
Interviewer: Are you telling me that you waited patiently for him to sober up?
Sonny: Of course not! I searched his pack until I found one of his energy slugs. They can revive a besotted man quite quickly. You just slip one up–
Interviewer: No! I don’t want to hear any more, not about the slug. So then, when he revived, you two went back to drinking?
Sonny: Yes. But before I administered the slug, I … ummm, changed his attire a bit.
Interviewer: I’m afraid to ask, but … what did you do?
Sonny: Dressed him up like a girl. He did not notice. But the men in the tavern did. They thought it was the funniest thing they had ever seen. I had a fancy bonnet on his head, and nicked Roswitha Ulver’s bloomers, the bonnet and bloomers where the only clothes on him. And I rouged his lips up to a bright red.
Interviewer: What happened then?
Sonny: A fight, of course. Abnelius may not have been alert enough to tell what I had done to him, but he had enough wits to lose his temper. Abnelius is always able to lose his temper. So when the mule drover laughed at him, he lit into the drover like a rooster after a bull.
Interviewer: Was he injured?
Sonny: Abnelius? No. He may be a scrawny old wizard, but he is still a wizard. And he fights dirty. It was one hell of a scrap, it was.
Interviewer: What were you doing during this time?
Sonny: I did the only thing I could do, under the circumstances. I slipped around and drank every cup dry as the other people in the tavern watched the fight.
What is your most secret ambition?
Interviewer: Let’s talk about your future. What is Sonny Zaeffom’s one secret ambition? What is the one thing you would most like to do in life?
Sonny: One thing? Hmmm. Well, this may sound rather bizarre to you.
Interviewer: Go on.
Sonny: I was once told a crazy story by Grandpap’s best friend, Abnelius.
Interviewer: Who is that?
Sonny: Abnelius is a wizard from a nearby village. He specializes in healing. He and Grandpap have been best friends forever—and Grandpap is very old, one-hundred forty-five, I believe. Anyway, Abnelius comes by on occasion to visit Grandpap, to eat and drink and share an evening. Abnelius is even stranger than Grandpap, which is quite a feat—though all wizards are mighty strange. Anyway, one night when Grandpap had to go and do some magical chore for a neighbor, Abnelius and I had a good time, drinking all the ale in our house. Just for fun, I asked Abnelius to tell me about alchemy, and he told me about Grandpap’s younger days, when he my grandsire was considered the most likely up-and-coming wizard, the wizard most likely to solve the riddle of alchemy. Abnelius told me all about Grandpap’s alchemy wand, how it seemed to actually work, and how a rival wizard caused it to be destroyed.
Interviewer: This is all very interesting, but do you have a point? What does this have to do with your secret ambition?
Sonny: Do have some patience. Abnelius claimed that Grandpap had figured out the secret of alchemy and was on the cusp of becoming the most successful and acclaimed wizard of his generation. But then it was ruined by a rival wizard, supposedly when that wizard was under the influence of … too much ale. So, in jest, I said to Abnelius, would it not be most wonderful if one could use a magical wand to both conduct alchemy and stir up a fine drink?
Interviewer: What did your friend Abnelius say?
Sonny: He gave me a sideways look and asked how I had heard such a strange tale. I told him it was not a tale, but just a thought that had come to me in the moment. Abnelius grew serious and informed me there were rumours in the wizarding community that such a thing was possible, that it was possible to construct a wand which could create both spirituous drink and goald.
Interviewer: What is your secret ambition?
Sonny: I would do almost anything to have such a wand, to be able to sit back, wave a wand, and create a fine drink at a moment’s notice. One would not even need goald, then, would one?
Interviewer: That is tremendously ambitious of you.
Sonny: Indeed! But I have even more ambition than that.
Interviewer: Do tell.
Sonny: You will wonder why you did not think of this. What would you do if you had a wand, a wonderful and powerful magical implement, wherein you did not even have to go through two separate incantations to make goald and fine drink?
Interviewer: I have no idea what you are talking about.
Sonny: Of course not! You are not the genius that I am. But I suppose you want to know what I am hinting about?
Interviewer: I suppose I can’t end this interview until you tell me?
Sonny: Very well, if you insist. My secret ambition, what I would do if I had such a wand, is … please, remain seated for your own good. I would be able to mix up a fine drink with the wand, then after I tossed it down, the magical wand would do its duty and strange things would happen inside me, just as you must suspect by now.
Interviewer: I have been suspecting strange things going on inside you since the beginning of this interview. What, pray tell, would be the result?
Sonny: The drink would produce goald in my bowels. What do you think of that?
Interviewer: Your secret ambition is to, to—
Sonny: Yes. I would be the first person to have shat out goald.
Interviewer: This interview is over. Does your Grandpap have any potion that could wipe the last few minutes from my memory?
Sonny is so handsome, he doesn’t need magic to get what he wants, except when he gets into trouble. And, he’ll do anything for love or money, except work. So, the thought of marriage represents the worst of all possible worlds, a danger he avoids at all costs.
His plans for getting rich the easy way—by stealing—go awry when he meets Ariella. She is not only lovely to look at, but just may be as slippery and greedy as he. Better still, she becomes highly stimulated at the prospect of helping him hijack a treasure.
But, in addition to helping him steal “goald”, the cunning Ariella might just steal his scoundrel heart.
Story Excerpt
“Tell me where you hid the amulet.” Her lips touched my ear lobe and I almost lost control of my spleen. “Confess your theft, and I will reward you, will complete the passionate interlude left unconsummated last night.”
“For you, my dear, I would confess anything.”
“Go on, do tell.”
“I confess my desire for you, my passion is aroused by your touch.”
“That is not what I want to hear. Confess you took the amulet, and tell where you hid it.”
“I will.” My heartbeats pounded in my ears. “But first, caress my trouser weasel, stroke it as you were doing last night.”
“Oh, no,” she cooed into my ear. “You tell me where the chicken foot is, and then you will be rewarded.”
I smiled to myself, despite my predicament. Such moments in life were few and far between, moments when fools thought they had the better of me, then discovered they needed to curry my favour, instead of the other way around. “My dear, I will confess nothing. Abler men than you—well, men, at least—have tried to break my spirit, and all have failed.”
“Where is the chicken foot?” she hissed, grasping my ear and twisting it. The pain was sharp and delicious.
“I do not know!” Strangely, it was true.
“Liar! Tell me, or I shall kick you.”
“Kick me if you must, but I refuse to tell you.” I fervently hoped she would carry through her threat. “What will you do with the wedding gifts? I shall tell the people of your village it was all your idea.”
“Oh, my! Dear me!” Ariella responded, mock fear dripping from her lovely lips. “Do you think they will believe you, a stranger, over a beautiful and innocent young girl?” She punctuated the question by kicking me in the gut.
“That did not hurt,” I lied. “Throw your whole body into it. Do you have a pair of pointy shoes? Kicking me with pointy shoes might at least discomfit me…while you are kicking, at least. The pain fades almost immediately and you shall never get the truth out of me at this rate.”
Where to Buy
Roane Publishing
Amazon
Amazon UK
Barnes and Noble (Coming soon)
KOBO (Coming soon)
Smashwords
Bookstrand
Goodreads
About Sonny Zae
Sonny Zae lives in a small town on the edge of reality. His only remarkable characteristic is imagination. He ignored his grade school teacher’s repeated admonitions to stop daydreaming and get to work.
Sonny’s book WIZARD SEEKING TROPHY BRIDE, is also available on Kindle. It is a story about the exceptional difficulties involved in finding love and happiness for an elderly and strange wizard, not to mention the difficulties of dealing with an elderly relative—an elderly relative who is also a wizard.
Marvelous Monday Reads: Open World – C.O.V.E.N.
Yes, it’s Monday once again, angels! Let’s ease into the week with another edition of Marvelous Monday Reads with Open World – C.O.V.E.N. by Casey Moss. Here’s a peek at how Open World came to be:
The world of C.O.V.E.N. (Clans of Vegas – Endless Night) first appeared in Evernight Publishing’s anthology Keyboards & Kink (available here: http://www.evernightpublishing.com/keyboards-and-kink/ & at other fine e-tailers) in Casey’s story, AFK.
In AFK, we saw a peek into I-D-8 Entertainment’s in-production MMORPG: Clans of Vegas – Endless Night, also known as C.O.V.E.N. when Beth and another gamer got sucked into the game for real.
Now, when it comes to Open World, it’s actually made up of parts from two novellas that had been previously published. Those stories were my very first published ones released in 2008 under my alter ego’s name. A few years ago, I received the rights back on them, and they sat in a file until this year. There’s been some major work done to revamp them from a sci-fi’ish plot to the computer gaming one present in the book today. I am so excited these stories, and more to come in the C.O.V.E.N. world, have found new life and a great new home with Evernight Publishing.
In the story, Open World, some of the employees of I-D-8 have joined together for a LAN party to test the game. For definitions on the computer gaming term: open world, check out http://www.techopedia.com/definition/3952/sandbox-gaming.
The world has broken out in wars. Las Vegas has been ravaged by chemical warfare and is now home to several clans and creatures.
Welcome to I-D-8 Entertainment’s newest game: Clans of Vegas—Endless Night.
Friends and family have gathered for a crunch time playtest of C.O.V.E.N.. When a horrible thunderstorm hits, everyone’s sucked into the game for real. In the MMORPG, Hope Collins is kidnapped by Buzz and forced to submit to his whims. Her boyfriend, Alden, has to delay his quest of defeating a clan’s prince to save her, but time and circumstance don’t seem to be on his side. Faith Collins is bombarded by strange dreams brought on by Buzz. Her boyfriend, Tavis, learns to dream walk, but can he help break the spell she’s under and save her before she’s lost to him?
C.O.V.E.N. is more than just a game. It’s a whole other world.
Story Excerpt
He homed in on the guy, and repulsive vibes poured over him. Thoughts, full of ill intent, infiltrated his mind.
The man’s here to claim. Conquer. End game…power.
The prince had changed his name, but to what he didn’t know. He couldn’t fault the man on that kind of switch. He and his buddy, Tavis, had assigned themselves new names, too.
Alias or no, though, the royal’s presence was a cause for high concern.
Does he know of mine and Tav’s existence? Our ultimate mission?
He calmed his thoughts, fixated on the man again. Answer—negative. Good.
The prince didn’t know about the two of them, but the man did have the same plan…make nice with the family to apprehend one of the two daughters, or the cousin if need be.
He snorted. Same plan. Yeah, right. In the prince’s case, his eagerness to have one of the women stemmed from nefarious reasons.
Den’s eyes shot open. The black of the grill and the off-white concrete appeared less vibrant than they had moments before. The light of day dimmed more. He blinked, then looked up. The sky had darkened with the formation of thick gray clouds. The forecast had mentioned a thirty percent chance of showers, but everyone believed if it were to rain it wouldn’t happen until much later or the storm would fizzle after it spent itself in the upper elevations.
Frustrated over his uneasiness due to the perplexing vibes, his trying to rationalize the afternoon and the changing weather, he ran his fingers through his hair.
And what the fuck were all those thoughts about? Mirroring that of my C.O.V.E.N. character and the quests I’ve been on? Nothing like this ever’s happened before. Did the programmers do something to the game to affect us?
As one of the level designers on the development team, he’d been a part of the alpha-testing and minor playtests during the creation process. Mr. Gott, the head honcho of the whole design department, thought implementing a lot of tests along the way would cut down on major changes during the last phases. From what he understood, the closed-beta test he, Mr. Gott and several others had performed a handful of weeks ago to check a couple of clans, hadn’t turned out as well as expected. Hence the LAN party, a crunch time playtest to see what was going on before they implemented another beta run. All the designers and programmers, along with any friends and family members who were interested in giving C.O.V.E.N. a try, were present.
Except if there’s something in the game that’s going to mind fuck everyone, shouldn’t we call it a day? I didn’t sign on for crap like this. I’m sure no one else has either.
Where to Buy
Evernight Publishing
Amazon
All Romance eBooks
Bookstrand
About Casey Moss
Casey Moss delves into the darker aspects of life in her writing, sometimes basing the stories on reality, sometimes on myth. No matter the path, her stories will take you on a journey from the light-hearted paranormal to dark things unspeakable. What waits around the corner? Come explore…
Where to find Casey Moss
New from Evernight: Planet Alpha #planetalpha
Announcing Evernight Publishing’s exclusive series…
PLANET ALPHA
The year is 2050. Earth is quickly becoming uninhabitable. The seven continents are shrinking as flooding devastates the land masses. Crime and disorder are rampant among the dwindling human population.
There are only two safe havens in the galaxy capable of supporting humanoid life. Xyran is a world of power-hungry demons and Planet Alpha is home to a fearless warrior race.
The males on Planet Alpha need mates. Infertility has plagued their race for decades. The answer lies on Earth where tempting females are waiting to be saved. When their enemies attempt to claim the spoils of a dying world, only the strongest will get their prize.
The first book in this sci-fi ménage series is here:
BONDMATE by J.J. Lore
BONDMATE is now available on Evernight Publishing and most major online book retailers.
BROKEN by Erin M. Leaf
(Coming May 16)
PROPOSITION by Beth D. Carter
(Coming Soon)
Look for more PLANET ALPHA books coming soon to Evernight!
Nicola’s Sunday Shoutout: Lynn Rae and Peri Elizabeth Scott
Hello darlings! Today’s Sunday Shoutout goes to Lynn Rae and Peri Elizabeth Scott, whose new book Prohibited is now available from Evernight Publishing and other retailers of fine erotic romance.
In the early 1920’s in Lima, Ohio, John MacDonald Adair hides his speakeasy from the law, and his mixed heritage from the KKK, mingling with the rich, piling up the cash and taking his pleasure within the ranks of the flappers who patronize his speak.
Lilly Townsend is a serious, modern woman, a suffragette and temperance advocate with nothing to hide and no patience for the frivolity of the times. And she doesn’t break the rules—yet.
Such disparate souls should never meet, but Fate conspires otherwise. Powerless against overwhelming chemistry, and something far deeper, Mac and Lilly must make some difficult choices and face down societal mores—together—to attain their happily ever after.
Story Excerpt
Making her way up the wide stone steps to the porch, Lilly shifted the pie to one hand and pressed the doorbell with the other. There was a barely discernible chime through the leaded glass and walnut door but no other sound. She waited and pressed the button again. The door opened with a rattle and creak.
When she recognized the person glaring at her, all the breath left her body in a gasp. It was Mac Adair. Of course. Of all the people in Lima who could have purchased this house next to hers, it would have to be that man.
He narrowed his eyes at her and propped his arm across the door opening as if to deny her entrance. He was wearing a soft-looking red shirt with far too many buttons unfastened, and sturdy black trousers. When she realized he wasn’t wearing an undershirt and she could see the tanned muscles of his chest, her arms weakened and the pie wobbled and dropped from her useless hands.
Stifling a shriek, Lilly flailed for the pan but it was too late to catch it. Spraying its contents, the pie landed on the porch with a sickening squash and the entire pastry top cracked apart as reddish goo welled up like heart’s blood. Scarlet gobbets clung to her forearms and the front of her embroidered linen dress.
Horrified, she looked up to find Mac Adair still staring at her, although his features had smoothed away from the frown he’d worn earlier. The corners of his mouth twitched with disgust or amusement at her predicament. Lilly knew her own mouth was gaping open but she was frozen with embarrassment and powerless to close it.
****
Stricken might be too strong a word for Mac to apply in this circumstance, but it came damn close. Perhaps another might find humor in this beauty brought to her knees by some version of slapstick, but he was mortified for her.
It wasn’t lost on him, this neighborly gesture of welcome, although no doubt she’d have painted a black daub on his door to warn others had she known he lived here after the way he’d treated her in his speakeasy. Mac fumbled for his handkerchief.
“Here, let me…” He squatted to reach out and pat the worst of the spill from her wrist then thought better of it and offered the cloth to her to apply instead.
Trembling fingers snatched it from his grasp, the slight contact sparking a frission of static up his forearm. Lil patted at the sticky fruit and flakes of pastry, lips set in a thin line as she visibly regained her composure. Not that her full, bee-stung mouth could compress into a truly regimented grimace.
“Thank you.” A quiet, dignified murmur at last. She raised her coffee brown eyes to his again, the long lashes sweeping up to unveil returning self possession. His heart pounded harder, and another part of his anatomy responded as well, refusing to listen to his brain scold.
As awkward as a boy in the company of his first crush, Mac struggled to his feet, offering her the hand not occupied with the detritus of the pie as he did so. Lil reached out to take it, and their fingers met amidst the gooey residue as he helped her up. He felt his lips twitching and registered a similar movement of Lil’s. Laughter bubbled over, a welcome warmth that enveloped his senses, and he guffawed in response.
“Mac Adair.”
“Lilly Townsend.”
“My pleasure to meet you, Miss Townsend. Please come in and you can freshen up.”
“I think it will take more than a mere freshen up. And it’s Mrs. Townsend, but please call me Lilly. After our two, um, disparate meetings…”
She was married? How had he missed that fine gold band? Married to that sap.
“Ah—” What in hell was that man’s name she was with last night? “So, Walter is your husband.”
“Walter? Heavens, no! My husband passed four years ago.”
The rush of relief at the news made his knees weak—he was a total bastard for welcoming such news. “I’m sorry for your loss, Lilly.”
“Thank you.” She stared at him expectantly and he shuffled backwards into the foyer. Lilly gracefully followed, only to come up short.
“Do you have a powder room on the main floor?”
“There’s a newly constructed bath just off the foyer.”
Carefully disposing of the ruined pie in his sterile kitchen, he hustled back to the porch with a rag and a small basin of water. He hadn’t cleaned a floor on his knees in, well, ever, but the flies were gathering.
When Lilly emerged, the stuff of her dress sported large, spreading damp spots tinged with an unfortunate hue of pink, the same hint of blush remained on her cheeks.
“I had no idea you were my aunt and uncle’s new neighbor.” The frost was back in her tone.
“Or you wouldn’t have deigned to make me a welcome to the neighborhood pie. Let alone cross the threshold.” Damn it, he was biting back as a dog snaps at flies.
She flinched at his comment and held her head even higher. “I definitely wouldn’t have. You own a speakeasy! Your reputation—”
“My reputation? I’m a businessman, Mrs. Townsend. I serve the public, at least those who seek my services. And if memory serves, you were in my speak just last night. How might that have impugned your reputation, I wonder? Or perhaps it reflected who you are beneath the trappings.”
If he could have ripped out his tongue by its very roots he would have done. Lilly’s breasts lifted and fell rapidly in response to his set down and he tore his eyes away from that bewitching sight to meet her very hurt gaze, swiftly being hidden by outrage and disdain.
“I know who I am beneath my trappings. Mr. Adair. Who or what do you hide behind yours? My slight lapse in judgment last evening, correction, serious lapse in judgment won’t be repeated. Of that I can assure you!”
Hell’s teeth, she was lovely! All flashing eyes and high color. He couldn’t resist pushing her harder.
“I knew my first impression of you was correct.”
She sputtered. It was fascinating to observe, those succulent lips parting with fury.
“If you consider calling me priggish and straight-laced an insult, sir, you’re sorely mistaken. I’m simply fine with your assessment. At least I’m contributing to the moral compass of this world, unlike some people who undermine the very fabric of—oomph.”
It was just too much. Too much of everything. She had slipped a verbal dagger between his ribs and pierced his conscience. Coupled with her intense appeal, he felt pushed over the brink and reacted to both quiet her and soothe his abraded soul.
Her wealth of hair spilled from its gathered twist on the back of her head as he pulled her roughly into his arms, soft curves imprinting against his chest. He caught a glimpse of her wide, startled eyes before taking her mouth with his own in fierce possession, plundering the seam of her lips. Groaning with the effort of suppressing his lust—he longed to sweep her up and carry her into the parlor where a fainting couch reposed—Mac contented himself with kissing them both senseless.
Where To Buy
Where to find Lynn Rae and Peri Elizabeth Scott
Evernight’s Book Boyfriend Blog Hop! #bookboyfriend
The Book Boyfriend Blog Hop is back and better than ever!
The authors of Evernight have a brand new team of swoon-worthy book boyfriend candidates. A sexy assortment of cowboys, Doms, detectives, millionaires, royalty, vampires, soldiers, and shifters are just a click away.
Get ready to find your next book boyfriend…
Hi there! I’m Nicola Cameron, and welcome to my website! Due to a missed communication on my part Evernight didn’t get the name of my chosen Book Boyfriend in time for the promotional material, so guess what? You get TWO Book Boyfriends for the price of one!
So, let’s talk about the romantic lead of my M/M paranormal erotic romance Trickster and my official Book Boyfriend, Delaney Smith. Tall, handsome, a coyote shifter and genius programmer, and currently CTO at Trickster Technologies, Delaney also dates shifters exclusively — humans are just a little too bland and boring for his tastes. Walking back into the office after vacation, he gets the shock of his life when he finally scents his mate.
Who just happens to be a male contract programmer hired by Trickster while Delaney was on vacation. The fact that Mark Fellowes is a man doesn’t bother Delaney. The fact that Mark is completely and undeniably human … and straight … and has a girlfriend … well, that’s a whole ‘nother story.
So yeah, their relationship starts out on a slightly rocky basis. And to prove it, here’s a teaser:
Delaney ended the call and tossed the phone on his bedside table. He understood the importance of finding out who was trying to hack into Trickster’s servers. But God, this was a shitty time to make him play Sherlock, especially with his mate as the target.
Leaving his bedroom, he headed to the guest room and knocked on the door. “Mark? Can I come in?”
There was no answer. He opened the door and peered inside. Mark’s open bag was on the bed, and the bathroom door was shut. Behind it, he could hear the sound of the shower.
His natural curiosity kicked into gear. Quietly, he slipped into the room and closed the door behind him, ignoring the faint flicker of guilt. Well, nosing around is what coyotes do, he reasoned. And Scott pretty much ordered me to check him out, so I’m just following my Alpha’s orders.
Mark’s bag turned out to hold nothing but a clean set of casual clothes, some underwear, and a dress shirt, suit, and tie. Delaney took a deep breath, savoring the warm, woody scent wafting up from the clothes. A powerfully attractive image of shucking off his clothes and joining his mate in the shower came to him. I could scrub him clean all over, yeah, then kneel down and rim him until he’s begging–
His enhanced hearing picked up a soft moan. He stepped to the bathroom door, listening. Another moan, almost muffled by the sound the falling water, and a familiar slicking sound.
Delaney went hot all over, and his cock sprang back to life. Oh, fuck. He’s jacking off. He’s four feet away and he’s jacking off. Fuck, that’s so not fair.
His hand drifted to the front of his slacks, massaging the thick ridge there as he listened to his mate pleasure himself. When Mark grunted hard and came, Delaney was almost right behind him. Gritting his teeth, he pulled his hand away, willing his heartbeat to slow down as the shower stopped.
The bathroom door opened and Mark stepped out, rubbing a towel over his hair. Another one was wrapped around his narrow hips, and Delaney wanted to take it off with his teeth.
He cleared his throat. Mark yelped and spun, bumping into the dresser next to the bed. The towel around his waist started to slip, and Delaney caught a glimpse of pale, muscled hip before Mark yanked the terrycloth back into place.
Panting, he glared at Delaney. “Jesus Christ, what is wrong with you?” he yelled. “Do you even know how to knock?”
“I did,” Delaney said, trying to sound innocent. “You didn’t answer so I got worried. Didn’t know you were in the shower until I came in here.” And you were coming in there.
Trickster can be purchased from the following retailers:
Evernight • Amazon • Barnes & Noble • All Romance Ebooks • Bookstrand • Smashwords
Now, what’s up for grabs in his blog hop?
- One lucky hopper will win a $100 Amazon Gift Certificate sponsored by Evernight Publishing.
- Plus, I’ll be giving away a goodie basket of books, chocolate, and custom jewelry from Belaurient Arts.
How to enter? Answer this question in the comments below…
Question: If you could be any kind of shifter, what kind would you be?
Be sure to leave the answer and your email address to be eligible to win a prize. Each comment gives you an entry for the grand prize (one per blog hop stop).
Keep hopping to the next author or blogger. After you’ve met each hero click here to vote for your favorite book boyfriend. You’ll earn an extra grand prize entry!
You’re one step closer to meeting your next Book Boyfriend…
Powered by Linky Tools
Click here to enter your link and view this Linky Tools list…
My original boyfriend choice for the blog hop was the oh-so-sexy Scot Rory MacLellan, the romantic lead of my soon-to-be-published M/M SF erotic romance Two to Tango. Rory is a roguish intergalactic art thief who stumbles across suicidal archaeologist Dmitri Grigoryev during a heist and accidentally kidnaps/rescues him (it’s complicated). When the cops think Dmitri is Rory’s inside man on the heist, they have to go on the run together, and hijinks ensue!
I chose Rory as my Book Boyfriend because while he’s a thief, he also has a strong set of principles (as Dmitri quickly finds out). If you hurt someone Rory cares about, he’ll make damn sure you regret it. He’s also funny, quick-thinking, and empathetic despite a childhood that could best be described as “sterile.” Oh, did I mention he was a dyed-in-the-tartan romantic, too? You’ll understand what I mean when you get to the onboard dinner scene (who brings fine china and crystal into space, anyway? Someone who’s determined to woo a cranky archaeologist, that’s who).
I’m looking at a release date sometime in May, so stay tuned!
Look what arrived in the mail today!
I stepped out to check on a storm in the distance, and found a storm on my own doorstep! The back has a blurb from The TBR Pile and the standard description of the story, and it all looks so great! Even better, I’m having lunch tomorrow with the woman who’s in the dedication so I can give her a print copy of her very own. Hmm — I’ve never autographed an erotic romance before. Better come up with something clever toot sweet.
In other news, Breaker Zone and “The Art of Grant Management” continue apace — I’m hoping to have the short story finished and submitted to the Executive Assistant antho by Monday, and I’m really pleased with the way I’m revamping Breaker Zone. In a way, having to take such a detour on it has been a good thing because it’s made me look at the three leads more closely and adjust their personalities in a more realistic fashion.
Luckily that won’t be necessary for Book Three (tentatively titled Deep Water), since the main characters in that one will be Poseidon (yes, the big man gets his own book), his consort Amphitrite, and someone who is going to turn out to have a very interesting past relationship with both of them. I hope people don’t mind that 1) I’m changing lead characters with each book, although Ian, Aphros, and Bythos will play a major role in each book, and 2) not all of the books will be M/M/M. Only the first two will be M/M/M — Book Three will be M/M/F, Book Four M/M/M/F/F (yeah, that’s gonna be interesting), Book Five M/M/F, and Book Six M/F. It’s just the way the story is working out in my head.
Happy April 1st!
Well, it took me a week but by gum I did it — I got the taxes done and off to the accountant (yes, we use an accountant — between my multiple income streams and Ramón’s job, it makes much more sense for us to let a professional crunch the numbers for us), finished four covers and sent them off to their respective publishers, helped a former web design client move all his stuff to a new system, got the latest podcast episode up and out, and even upgraded my laptop to Mavericks. All of this by today as planned. I rule.
Now, all I have left to do today is add 3K to Breaker Zone, add some more wordage to the short story I’m submitting to Evernight’s Executive Asssistant anthology, do my hour in the gym, and wash clothes so that I’ll have something clean to wear tomorrow, and then I can … um, pretty much go to sleep, I guess. Never mind — I’ll have some free time tomorrow.
Oh, and I need to eat. I keep forgetting to eat. I’m not tooting my own horn here — I’m an idiot about it who gets wrapped up in a project, and doesn’t realize until 12 hours later that I’m practically crippled and my stomach is screaming at me.
On a closing note for all you poets out there who enjoy the bawdier side of the art form, the inimitable Colby Keller and his peripatetic partner Karl Marxxx are hosting a Big Shoe Diaries Poetry Contest (NSFW) to honor April as National Poetry Month. Head on over there to find out all the details and see Colby read Robert Burns’s poem “Nine Inch Will Please a Lady” in an amazingly good (and astoundingly sexy) Scottish accent.
Nicola’s Sunday Shoutout: Doris O’Connor
Today’s Sunday Shoutout goes to the magnificent Doris O’Connor, whose gorgeously hot new book Through the Dom’s Lens is now available from Evernight Publishing and other purveyors of fine erotic romance. And now, here’s Doris!
Thanks so much for having me here today.
I read an interesting article recently, about what Men really see when they look at you, and you could sum it up as such.
Whatever you don’t like about yourself, chances are your man loves it, because it makes you unique. Add to that my gran’s saying that men want something to hold onto when they fuck…(yes, she really did say that to me, when I was modelling back in Germany and starving myself to be skinny)… and I do wonder why so many of us struggle to just accept what and who we are.
Sure, there will be men who prefer skinny women, just like there will be men who prefer curvy ones, and plenty of other themes in-between. We all have a type we go for, after all.
Here comes another saying from my dear gran. For every pot there is a lid. In other words there’s someone out there for everyone. Sometimes you just need to kiss some frogs before you find your prince.
Now, in Sally’s case she kissed one rather ugly frog that made her not only wary of men, but means she hates her picture taken. Add to that the fact that she really wants to experience the lifestyle, and it narrows the field even more.
So, when her sister asks her to step in for her at this photo shoot, she can’t resist temptation, even though she is full of self-doubt and apprehension.
It falls to Master J to convince her that she is exactly who he’s been looking for…
Sometimes doing a favor can change your life forever.
Never one to rate her curves, Sally thinks her glamorous sister has lost the plot. Stand in for her at a photo shoot with the most sought after bondage photographer ever?
She’ll be laughed out of the studio, or arrested, or both. However, the temptation to actually meet the man she’s been secretly lusting after for months proves too hard to resist.
Junsako cannot believe his eyes, when Sally turns up. It’s been a long time since the Dom in him felt such an instant pull to anyone. All those curves will look beautiful in Shibari suspension, and Sally proves to be a born submissive. If only she would let go of her body issues and see the beautiful woman he sees through his lens.
Only one thing to do—convince her—with as much kinky sex as possible.
Story Excerpt
“I want you to do something for me, pet. I want you to close your eyes and remember that feeling.”
She frowned at him, but her eyes fluttered shut and after a while she smiled.
“Good, you’re there in your mind?”
“Yes, Sir, I think so.”
“Good girl, now open your eyes and look at the screen again.” She tensed immediately and her smile slipped, but she did open her eyes and glanced at the screen. He’d changed the image to a slide of the process of her being bound. The first one showed her stood in front of him, looking nervous as hell, and she tensed even more when she saw it.
“What do you see, pet? Truly look at the picture, past the body, concentrate on your facial expression and remember how you felt.”
She bit her lip, and her nose screwed up in concentration, but eventually she answered him.
“I was nervous…” she glanced at him and then continued in a whisper, “and turned on.”
“Good girl, now the next picture. What do you see?”
In this shot she was half in her chest harness and blindfold, and Junsako hardened as he, too, remembered the heady thrill of binding her soft flesh in the rope. The picture didn’t do the eroticism of the art justice. In his mind’s eye, however, he heard her soft sighs and mewls, he felt the rope slide through his fingers and mark her skin, as she sank further into that blissful state of submission.
Sally remembered it, too, if her increased breathing and the dampness seeping through his sweat pants were any indication. He didn’t say anything else, afraid to break the moment, just continued to bring up picture after picture, until she wriggled on his lap, and he was hard enough to pound concrete again.
By the time they were back at the picture he intended to use, tears were falling down Sally’s cheeks, but she was smiling this time.
“Thank you, Sir, for helping me remember what it felt like. I still see a fat woman, though. I know I’m not skinny and … oh.”
The breath whooshed out of her lungs when he stood up with her and flung her over his shoulder. It was a matter of moments to cross the distance to his bedroom, and Sally shrieked when he threw her on the bed face down.
Before she had even stopped bouncing he grabbed her ankles and yanked her down until her ass hung over the edge with her knees on the floor. He kicked her legs apart, and took a moment to admire the view in front of him. With a flick of the remote he turned on the ceiling spotlights. The soft lighting illuminated Sally’s shapely ass. With her legs spread wide, he had a perfect view of her glistening pussy. Her cunt got wetter the longer he just stood there and watched her, and when she tried to push herself up on her elbows he urged her back down on the bed with his hand flat on the small of her back.
“Stay still, pet. It amuses me to watch you like this. You have the most perfect ass, my love. It will look even more beautiful when it’s pink from my hand.”
Sally whimpered, and more of her juices slipped out of her clenching hole.
“I’m going to spank that ass now, and then I’m going to fuck it. My little pet will like that, I think. Give me a color, pet.”
****
Sally’s heart beat so fast in her ears she was sure she’d have fallen to the floor had she not been lying down already. Junsako’s dirty words made her so wet her juices were sliding down her inner thighs, and she found it difficult to concentrate on his words.
An open handed spank to her left ass cheek stung, and before she could open her mouth another one followed to the right side this time.
“I asked you a question, pet. What color are you?”
“Gr-green.” She murmured the words into the cover, as he dug his fingernails into her tender skin and grabbed a generous handful. That should have mortified her, but somehow it didn’t.
“I can’t hear you, pet.”
His strained voice soothed her concerns. He sounded like a man aroused, and it gave her an enormous thrill that he wanted her just as badly as she wanted him.
“Green, Sir. I’m so green. Please don’t stop. I—”
The next spank set her ass on fire and sent her further up the bed, until her hips dug into the edge. It was padded, with little hard nobbles, and just the right height to stimulate her clit, as she discovered with the next few well-placed open handed swats from his hands. He hit a different spot on her ass every time, and with the added stimulation from the torture devices attached to the side, she was close to coming in record time.
Higher and higher she flew until time lost all meaning, and all that mattered was the breathtaking pause before he spanked her again. When he finally stopped heat radiated from her ass all over her body in rolling waves of bliss, and she ground herself against the edge. So close, she was so damn close.
Junsako grabbed her hips and pulled her away from the bed, and Sally whined her protest.
He kissed her shoulder, and chuckled into her neck, as his whole body seemed to engulf her. His hard cock nestled in the cleft of her ass, and he delivered little bites along her back, parallel to her spine. Every sharp sting made her moan, interspersed as it was by his murmured words.
“So beautiful, my pet. This luscious body belongs to me, and you will not come without my permission, will you, pet?”
PLUS: Check out a Bonus Scene from this story here on Doris’s blog.
Where To Buy
Evernight Publishing
Amazon
Amazon UK
Bookstrand
All Romance E-books
About Doris O’Connor
Glutton for punishment would be a good description for Doris… at least that’s what she hears on an almost daily basis when people find out that she has a brood of nine children, ranging from adult to toddler and lives happily in a far too small house, cluttered with children, pets, dust bunnies, and one very understanding and supportive husband. Domestic goddess she is not.
There is always something better to do after all, like working on the latest manuscript and trying not to scare the locals even more than usual by talking out loud to the voices in her head. Her characters tend to be pretty insistent to get their stories told, and you will find Doris burning the midnight oil on a regular basis. Only time to get any peace and quiet and besides, sleep is for wimps.
She likes to spin sensual, sassy, and sexy tales involving alpha heroes to die for, and heroines who give as good as they get. From contemporary to paranormal, BDSM to F/F, and Ménage, haunting love stories are guaranteed.
Where to find Doris O’Connor
Website
Blog
Twitter
Facebook
Pinterest
Evernight Publishing
Amazon
All Romance E-books
Bookstrand















