Thanks, Delilah, for hosting me on your gorgeous blog.
I brought a friend.
Well, a creation–although by now Daniel and David Ho’omalu and their family feel more like people I met in Hawaii. Their South Kona Coast beach enclave, Nawea Bay, feels like an actual place that I can visit next time we fly to Hawaii for a spring vacation.
These larger-than-life brothers sprang to life on a visit to the Big Island two years ago.
‘Why don’t you write a story set here in Kona?’ my husband asked. He might as well have hit me over the head, so big was the impact of his statement. Wherever I go, I spin stories in my head. This talent has gotten me through many a long car trip, when the three males in my family converse about guy stuff—cars, trucks, guns, etc.
I’d already begun a story on our long drive up to Hawaii Volcanoes Nat’l Park, but I didn’t … oh, this is embarrassing! I didn’t take it seriously. I know, right? I’m a romance writer, how could I NOT take my imaginings seriously? Well, because although I had 4 books published I was still, in my own mind, an amateur.
Then this last year, God gave me two hard shoves toward turning pro. My step-father died, leaving my dear mom alone on her rural property in Central Montana. And my husband lost his sales job to the recession, leaving me the breadwinner in the family. Suddenly my writing became an important part of our family’s support system.
I gave up my favorite activities—shopping, golf, and leisurely lunches with friends. I still made sure to exercise, but when I wasn’t doing that or teaching, I was writing. Without even noticing, I’d turned pro. This is not a pity party, either. I believe God works in his own way to turn us the way we need to go.
Through the long rainy Pacific NW winter, I spun my Hawaiian imaginings into a romance saga. Hawaiian Heroes; Walking in Fire was published in April of this year, and Hawaiian Heroes II; Rolling in the Deep followed July 31st. Hawaiian Heroes III; Blooming in the Wild will debut in November, and Hawaiian Heroes IV sometime early next year.
Let me tell you, I looked forward to going to Hawaii in my vast imagination every evening and weekend! Lush and beautiful, volcanoes soaring at your back, the surf lapping at your toes, the warm air heavy with the scent of plumeria … the beautiful Hawaiian people enjoying their home. Tourists relaxing in this carefree setting—the perfect milieu for sexy romance.
You can immerse yourself in beautiful Hawaii, too, just by picking up one of my Hawaiian Heroes books. And I promise the series will go on, and be followed by many other red hot romances. Because I am a romance writer … and a pro.
Here’s a taste of Hawaiian Heroes; Rolling in the Deep.
Desire as deep and dark as the sea…danger as close as a heartbeat.
Daniel Ho’omalu’s intimidating physique, tribal tattoos and mane of black braids frighten most women before they get close enough to discover he likes to play rough. Pile on his perilous vocation as one of a secret society of island guardians, and he’s painfully aware he may never find a mate.
One look at Daniel, and Claire Hunter knows she’s found the man of her sensual dreams. Without hesitation she sinks her teeth into the challenge of landing the big Hawaiian in her bed. But while he clearly wants her, he won’t bite back.
Daniel is certain the beautiful haole is too young and innocent to handle his dark sexual needs. Despite their determination to ignore each other, the island casts its spell, and in one explosive night, Daniel learns that Claire is more than a match for him in every way.
When Daniel must leave her side and dive to the depths of the sea to foil a gang of drug smugglers, Claire trusts that their powerful bond will bring her lover back safely to her arms. But his vow of honor to protect his people could be the one thing that breaks her heart.
Warnings: Big, hot, tattooed Hawaiian hero who likes it rough—in bed and on the beach. Going deep takes on a whole new meaning in this tropical heat wave.
“Your little outfit turns me on,” he said. “I’d like to eat you up. Just like a pūpū. Got it?”
“Oh,” she mumbled. “Th-thanks for clearing that up.” Oh, God, she was going to dissolve in a puddle at his feet. Her insides were melting, and he’d barely even touched her.
He bent his head, leaning in, inhaling as if he were sniffing her perfume, leaving her breathless with shock. He was doing it again, bewildering her with his powerful sexuality.
“Does that turn you on, when I talk dirty?” he murmured.
All he had to do was breathe. “Maybe. What else you got?”
His eyes narrowed, and he lifted his hands, reaching around her to plant them on the post behind her, enclosing her in the circle of his mighty arms and chest. She could feel his warmth, as well as a deep prickling—as if he had some kind of force field around him, a current running between them. And she could smell him, that scent of the sea mixed with the hot, musky scent of healthy male. Her knees went weak.
“I’ll show you what I got,” he rumbled. “And then I’m gonna give you one and only one chance to run, wahine. And you better take it, or I’ll have you, every way I can think of. Because I’m done fighting this.”
Then he kissed her. Fast and hard, like he had before.
He nudged her mouth open and slid his tongue inside. The pressure of his kiss increased until he had her back against the pole, and he was devouring her like a starving man, his tongue tangling with hers, their teeth banging. She hardly noticed that—oh, he tasted even better than she remembered. She wanted to kiss him for days.
His huge arms were shaking, as if he were fighting the urge to grab her. As if she wanted a chance to get away. She slapped her hands on his chest, hot and smooth under his tattoos, and ran them down over his abdomen, ridged and powerful, to his narrow waist. Wrapping her arms around him, she held on, digging her fingers into his back, into the hard cushion of muscle under his smooth skin. Her breasts flattened against his chest, she arched her hips, trying to get closer. Closer, hell. She wanted inside him.
He groaned, deep in his chest. Ripping his mouth from hers, he took a deep, shuddering breath and glared fiercely into her eyes.
“This is. Your. Last. Chance,” he grated through clenched teeth, his breath gusting damply on her face. “I’m not—holding you.”
“Does it feel like I want to get away?” she demanded breathlessly. “I won’t break, Ho’omalu.”
“Awright den.” His arms closed around her, and he kissed her again, hard, while he pulled her tight against him, and ground himself against her, his erection raking her pubis. Her legs parted weakly, her insides turning to liquid heat.
He turned, carried her a few steps and lifted her against the wall, hauling one of her legs up around his hips while his mouth continued to ravish hers. She moaned into his mouth, and he answered by pulling up her sarong, baring her mons, clad only in the string bikini.
Leaning back, he peered down at her, cupping her mons in his hand, stroking his thumb over the thin fabric that covered it. “Fuck, that’s pretty,” he said hoarsely. “I’m gonna have you with my mouth next time. But now, I gotta get inside you.”
“Yes,” she whimpered, tugging at his shorts.
He dealt with them, his face close to hers, grabbing a swift kiss. “You want it bad, don’t you?”
“I want you bad, you big dumb-ass! Hurry, damn you.”
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Thanks for stopping by,