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Sam Cheever: Are you Headed for a Lump of Coal This Christmas?
Friday, November 28th, 2014

I’m definitely getting coal in my stocking this year. Yeah, it’s true. I try so hard to be good. I really do! But I have a demon sitting on one shoulder and she’s so much more fun than the angel on my other shoulder. What’s that? You don’t believe me? (Apparently you’ve never read one of my books!)

For you doubters, here’s a laundry list of my sins:

  1. I torture my characters. Yeah, I really do. It’s part of my job. And to make things even worse, I enjoy it! LOL
  2. I write dirty books. Yup, my characters are nice people but they’re always doing dirty (yummy) things. I don’t know how that happens. I really don’t.
  3. When I’m in thrall to one of my stories, I sometimes go weeks without cleaning my house. I usually give in about the time fist-sized fur tumbleweeds skim across my floors when I walk through. (That doesn’t take as long as you might think, since I have 13 dogs!)
  4. I corrupt others. I not only write dirty books, I entice others to read them. (cue evil grin and waggling eyebrows). In fact, I work really hard at enticing others into debauchery with me. You should try it, it’s fun and burns calories!
  5. I’m totally, completely unrepentant. I’ll do it all over again next year. In fact I might double down on it. Because it’s how I roll. #:0)

Yeah, there’s a lump of coal in my future. Probably lots of them. But I look at it this way, diamonds come from carbon (as does coal). My lump isn’t really coal at all. It’s just a 10 karat diamond in its nascent form. Now that’s what I’m talkin’ about!

Merry Christmas everybody!


He just wants her to take life a little more seriously. She’s decided he could have a point. Especially now that somebody wants her dead.

Dolfe Honeybun broke up with Blaise Runa because her party girl ways were driving him to distraction. Unfortunately, out of sight does NOT mean out of mind. And when his favorite party girl sees something she shouldn’t and finds herself being chased by a cold blooded killer… reason shuts down and Dolfe’s heart takes over. If only he can get to her in time!

Book page

* * *

I like big butts and I cannot lie…

Dolfe’s head jerked off the pillow, groggy from an unusually deep sleep. His heart pounded as he reached over and shut off the phone. Cursing Blaise. The ringtone had been her idea. She’d told him, grinning, that it would remind him of her every time it rang. Dolfe silently berated himself for not changing it to something mature and soothing.

She’d been right. The tone did remind him of her…of the lush firmness of her perfect backside…the velvet feel of her skin…the sensual tang of her delicious scent.

God knew he didn’t need any more reminders of Blaise. Her essence was infused in every fabric in his home. Her presence saturated every cell of his existence. A battered paperback behind the sofa cushions…a bottle of siren red nail polish shoved to the back of his medicine cabinet.

She was everywhere.

Dolfe had thought breaking up with her would be enough to exorcise her from his life.

What an idiot he’d been.

He opened his eyes and squinted at the clock. Three flippin’ AM. He groaned, flopping back to the pillow and closed his eyes, determined to ignore whoever the asswipe was who thought it was a good idea to call him in the middle of the night.

For a brief, enticing moment he thought he might be able to do it. Go back to sleep. His muscles softened…his thoughts clouded… He took a deep breath, expelling it softly…

I like big butts and I cannot lie…

Dolfe growled his frustration and grabbed the cell, stabbing at the button to answer it. “This better be fucking good.”

Silence met his growled, less than friendly greeting. No. That wasn’t completely right. If he listened carefully he could hear breathing, soft and staccato. “Who’s there?”

A tiny squeak. Panic swirled through Dolfe. “Blaise? Is that you? I’m sorry, honey. You woke me up. What’s wrong?” He didn’t know how he knew it was her. He just did, in that instinctive, age-old way of lovers who’d been, even for a short time, totally in tune with each other.

“He killed her.”

The simple statement, thick with tears, ripped through whatever grogginess Dolfe might still be feeling and tore him from the bed. He was reaching for his jeans even as he spoke again. “Who killed who, honey. Tell me you’re all right. Let’s start with that. I need to know right now that you’re okay.”

She pulled air into her lungs in a shaky breath. “I’m okay. But…” Another squeak, “He saw me, Dolfe. He’s coming after me.”

Dolfe scrubbed a hand over his face. “Shit. Okay, honey, listen to me. Get someplace public. A busy restaurant or something. Sit down at a table facing the door and wait for me. Watch for me. I can be there in minutes. Just tell me where you are.”

A soft sob, the sound of the phone dropping, crashing against something.

Dolfe’s guts heaved into his throat. “Blaise!”


Book page


Author Bio:

scIMG_7837USA Today Bestselling Author Sam Cheever writes romantic paranormal/fantasy and mystery/suspense, creating stories that celebrate the joy of love in all its forms. Known for writing great characters, snappy dialogue, and unique and exhilarating stories, Sam is the award-winning author of 50+ books and has been writing for over a decade under several noms de plume.

If you haven’t already connected, Sam would love it if you Liked/Followed her wherever you enjoy hanging out online. Here are her online haunts:

Amazon Author Page:  

Eva Siedler: 3 Reasons to Let an Aircraft Mechanic Turn Your Wrench
Thursday, November 27th, 2014

A quick note…

thanksgivingFor you Americans out there, Happy Thanksgiving! I hope you’re spending the day with family and aren’t stuck in some airport. I’ll be sitting down to the table with mine and giving thanks for all my blessings. Now, on to our regularly scheduled program… :)

* * * * *

3 Reasons to Let an Aircraft Mechanic Turn Your Wrench

Nothing is sexier than a book boyfriend who lives to keep others safe. Firefighters, military men, and police officers fill the romance genre—and for good reason. Aircraft mechanics don’t garner a lot of page time. Maybe it’s because the job isn’t glamorous or even one people care to think about. Mechanics are the grease-smudged faces behind the curtain, the unseen force keeping you in the air. Being married to one myself, I’ve seen every side of these mysterious men. Here are a few of the perks of the breed.

#3 Cocky calm.

Aircraft mechanics are a little like cardiologists. I’ve yet to meet one who wasn’t cocky as all get out, at least when it came to his job. On any given day these mechanics are responsible for the safety of hundreds or even thousands of people. No room for the wishy-washy in a field like that. And no matter how comfortable you are with the miracle of flight, when you’re cruising along at four hundred miles per hour and the airplane makes one of those godawful metal-grinding noises, it’s nice to have your man squeeze your hand and assure you that there will be no fiery death today. The phalange needs oiled, that’s all. On more than one occasion my husband even fixed the plane we were flying on before departure, saving us from a lengthy delay. If that’s not sexy, I don’t know what is.


#2 Joining the Mile High Club doesn’t necessarily involve a cramped lavatory.

Making love at 32,000 feet can be a beautiful thing. Yet every time I’m forced to step foot in one of those germ-ridden closets being passed off as a bathroom, I’m amazed anew that there even is a Mile High Club.

But fear not, amorous adventurers, I have two words for you: ferry flight. This is usually a short flight used to relocate an airplane. Say a plane lands in Cincinnati, Ohio, but needs to go to the airline’s base in Columbus for more extensive maintenance. A barebones crew then flies the jet to Columbus without paying passengers. The captain may permit certain people, such as a mechanic and his guest who are trying to get to Columbus to remain onboard.

The atmosphere on a ferry flight is completely different. No passengers to appease, fewer regulations to follow. The crew is at the end of a long day, most likely in the mood to either joke around or simply fly in peaceful silence. With the latter you and your mechanic are left to entertain yourselves. Hmm . . . All those empty seats and a flight attendant who’s only too happy to leave you alone. What’s a girl to do?


Which leads us to . . .

#1 He knows how to use his equipment.

There is no engine too complex, no G-spot too elusive for a man who knows how to use his quick mind and strong, calloused hands—and all other tools at his disposal. Le sigh.


Eva Siedler was born in Columbus, Ohio to parents who enjoy the kind of epic love most people only read about. She didn’t inhale books or scribble stories in a notebook during study hall. Because writing necessitated reading. And she HATED reading. Every paragraph was a battle, and she couldn’t seem to stay awake through the first ten pages. It wasn’t until her own love story unfolded and a colicky baby started keeping her up at night that Eva discovered what good fiction can do for the soul. Writing wasn’t the path she imagined. It’s the path she was born for, and so much better than she could have dreamed.

* * * * *

Las Vegas Layover


Coastal Airlines mechanic Sebastian Brisbane is on his way to Las Vegas to fix a broken jet. But after one look at his sexy, travel-sized seatmate, he’s more concerned with revving her engine than fixing the plane’s.

Clara Howe will do anything to fulfill her aunt’s last wishes to have her ashes spread in Vegas. A one-night stand isn’t on the itinerary, but when Clara accidentally pricks Sebastian’s temper, along with his passion, only one thing is certain: It’s bound to be a bumpy ride.

SamhainAmazonBarnes and noble

Jan Scarbrough: Intimacy makes the love scene work—it’s a “romance” novel, after all
Monday, November 24th, 2014

Long before romance novelists wrote explicit sex in their novels, women were reading romance. After all, it was the romance stupid. Women wanted to read about the developing relationship and falling in love.

Tiffany Tyer describes four powerful romance novel love scenes in Beyond the Bedroom Door: Most Romantic Love Scenes. She puts it very well when she says, “Romantic love scenes aren’t really about flowery words, soft lighting, or a specific setting. They don’t have to be slow or lengthy. It’s about the connection between the hero and heroine, a relationship that has been carefully crafted to bring the romance to a certain point, where the love scenes become truly memorable.”

In thinking about this blog post, I searched the Internet and found a lengthy, but interesting article in Psychology Today (online). The article, Intimacy: The Art of Relationships by Lori H. Gordon, was published December 31, 1969 – last reviewed on August 30, 2004. The author talks about how our modern culture does not provide our biological need for intimacy.

Ms. Gordon explains, “… our cultural talent for commercialization has separated out sex from intimacy. In fact, intimacy involves both emotional and physical closeness and openness. But we wind up confusing the two and end up feeling betrayed or used when, as often happens, we fail to satisfy our need for closeness in sex.”

That’s why a love scene in a “sweet” romance where the bedroom door closes on the couple can be as emotionally satisfying as the most popular erotic novel. It’s the presence of emotional intimacy that we enjoy reading.

To me, the new standard for a love scene comes from Diana Gabaldon’s Outlander, a Starz original series. The wedding night between Jamie and Claire was a mixture of sensuality and humor, a sweet and sexy unfolding of their relationship together. If you haven’t seen the Starz version of the book, it’s worth finding a way to view it.

Love scenes work in romance novels when they combine the two types of intimacy—the emotional and the physical. The physical can be explicit or implied, but without emotional intimacy, the love scene will fall flat and fail to satisfy.


jsJan ScarbroughJan Scarbrough is the author of the popular Bluegrass Reunion series, writing heartwarming contemporary romances about family and second chances, and if the plot allows—horses. Living in the horse country of Kentucky makes it easy for Jan to add small town, Southern charm to her books, and the excitement of a horse race or a competitive horse show. A member of Novelist, Inc., Jan has published with Kensington, Five Star, ImaJinn Books, Resplendence Publishing and Turquoise Morning Press.


* * * * *

jsKentucky Blue Bloods 200-300

No one crosses Parker Stuart, caretaker to his family’s thoroughbred racing empire. Parker retaliates against anyone who dares slight him or his blue-blooded British family, especially Regina Ward and her poker-playing father. The previous spring, Reggie had had the nerve to walk out on him after a torrid, three-week affair. Now, when Parker arrives in Kentucky to collect his family’s winnings, he’s determined to settle the score with the lovely Ms. Ward.

Regina Ward doesn’t consider herself a damsel in distress. After all, this is America, and she’s accustomed to depending upon herself. However, when her father loses four of the yearlings from their central Kentucky horse farm in a poker game, Reggie knows it’s up to her to save what’s left of her family’s homestead and her proud Kentucky heritage. Can she do it when Parker Stuart, the most arrogant and infuriating Brit she’s ever met, shows up in the Bluegrass?


Visit Jan at
You can also follow Jan on Twitter @romancerider
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Augustina Van Hoven: Ghosts
Sunday, November 23rd, 2014

Have you ever walked into a room and known you were not alone?  Have you ever thought you were by yourself only to catch a movement in the corner of your eye?

Throughout history there have been sightings of the spirits people and animals that have long ago passed away.  Every language spoken on earth has a word for ghost and every culture has ghost stories.  It is part of the human psyche to both fear and be fascinated by thoughts of the afterlife and those who have gone there before us.  There have been opinion polls taken that show approximately one third of the population believe in the existence of ghosts.

People have reported seeing spirits in graveyards, old buildings or any number of outdoor locations.  Sightings have been reported ranging from the mere sense of a presence to seeing apparitions of people or animals, sitting, standing or walking about.  There are often reports of a mist surrounding these figures and a notable drop in temperature when they are present.

There are many people who actually hunt for ghosts.  They call themselves paranormal investigators.  These ghost hunters often use electronic equipment to help them find and record spirits.   The equipment can range from audio or video recorders to digital thermometers, night vision scopes and EMF meters.  The SyFy channel has had a television show for many years called ‘Ghost Hunters’ that follows a team of paranormal investigators to various sights in hopes of finding ghosts.

My debut novel, THE KISS OF A ROSE, is at its heart a ghost story.  The chorus of the song, “Kissed by a Rose” sung by Seal was my inspiration to write it.  I heard the lyrics of the chorus one day and had a flash of a grave stone partially buried in snow and a blood red rose lying at its base.  The rest of the story developed from that point.

Belief in ghosts is a very personal and emotional matter.  How among us hasn’t lost a loved one for whom we would give almost anything to see and speak to just one more time.

I believe there are spirits who walk the earth among the living.  I have had the experience of being alone in a room and feeling a hand brush my arm.  So I ask you, have you ever seen a ghost?

Augustina Van Hoven
Proving Love is Strange
THE KISS OF A ROSE – Now available



In 1882, Rose Van Buren loved the wrong man and paid for it with her life. Now, more than a century later, the angel Gabriel has granted her another shot at living. In exchange, she must convince a smart, handsome, up-and-coming lawyer to set aside his lofty ambitions.


Stephen Winship is headed straight for the governor’s chair. He has a brilliant career, solid allies, and a seemingly perfect girlfriend. But night after night he finds himself dreaming of a heavenly beauty, a luminous but long-dead girl. Like some altered Ghost of Christmas Past, she shows him her own tragic tale in order to “save him.” And he’s beginning to see Rose is risking her heart as much as baring her soul. Yet falling for her will cost him everything—and open him up to a happiness he never imagined.


Lizzie Ashworth: Jarrod Bancroft (Contest & Free Read!)
Friday, November 21st, 2014

Hi Devlin Fans! I’m Lizzie Ashworth, and I’m here to heat you up, which is a good thing considering how d*** cold it’s been lately. Perfect weather to snuggle up indoors and dream of hunky men.

What’s your favorite cold weather fantasy? Mine? A fire crackling in the woodstove and a man naked and ready, like the scene I painted in one of my blog posts. Here’s an excerpt:


Chris drained the glass. The room reflected the golden glow of the fireplace, and light from the flames flickered against the side of his body and face accenting the pale streaks in his hair, the curve of his mouth. The image of him there, in her cabin, struck Emily like a blow, sucked away her breath. Suddenly she knew what would happen next.

He set the glass on the hearth, took her glass, and brought his body next to hers in one fluid movement, so fast she couldn’t register on the reality of it. And yet, it seemed like he moved in slow motion. His lips brushed over hers. His arms came around and pulled her tight against him.

She spread her hands over his shoulders as their mouths crushed together. He smelled like heaven, crisply scented with his tantalizing aftershave, a hint of wood smoke, and his own musky odor. Like carved iron, his bulging groin pressed against her. Announcing his intentions. Making himself known.

Well, she knew. And that was all she knew. Her mind had become a mush of little more than blind response to his embrace, his tongue, the exploration of his hands over her waist, hips, buttocks. Her breasts became swollen and inflamed.

He walked her backwards to the couch, landed her there, and knelt between her legs. Oh, dear God in heaven, it took only seconds for him to unzip her jeans and tug them down her thighs, and then his thumb had found a warm welcoming home within the wetness. She cried out, so intense was the sensation of this man’s hand on her there. She bit her palm, struggling for control.

In fleeting moments, Emily questioned whether she should put up some kind of resistance instead of yielding instantly to his every move. But the question was not only far away and indistinct, it was also absurd. This was exactly what she wanted, what she had longed for over the months, years, since she had first found herself caught in Chris’ muddy green stare. She could no sooner form a strategic seduction plan than she could whistle Deck the Halls. She was completely in his thrall.

He removed her boots, jeans, panties, and she lay like a rag doll on the soft upholstery as he sucked, licked, and probed with his tongue and fingers until her nipples jutted like stones. She clung to his shoulders where his muscle rippled like a river current. She stroked her fingers through his thick blond hair. She flailed from side to side as his hands pushed her knees into the air and tucked her feet at her sides until the whole center of herself had been exposed. Open to his nipping teeth and thrusting tongue, she whimpered as his fingers stroked in and out.

I have no shame. The thought formed and then vanished.

She wept as he brought her to climax, tidal waves of heat and spasm that raged from the top of her head to the soles of her sock-clad feet. Surges still rolled through her belly as he brought the head of his cock to the flooded center of her sex, nudging only briefly then plunging in.

Oh dear God, this was life and death captured in an instant. His cock spread her open and filled her up, drove to the heart of her soul, to the very core of her being. He thrust long and hard but slowly, so that after a few moments, she opened her eyes and saw him watching her.

“You like that,” he grunted, sliding in deep. Again.

“Oh, yes,” she gasped. “Yes.”

He held her thighs in a tight grip, remaining on his knees while he fucked her. Somehow his shirt had disappeared and sweat lay on his chest in a glistening sheen. His muscles flexed and strained as he took his time fucking her, his breath coming in slow heaves, paced, calculating…


Ladies, I want your hot winter fantasies. Let’s hear it. I’ll pick a random winner from the responses posted by Thanksgiving. The winner will receive a free ebook copy of Jarrod Bancroft Book II and Book III. Book I is already free at all ebook retailers.

Want to see Jarrod? Feast your eyes!

Jarrod promo


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Nancy Corrigan: Making the paranormal world believable?
Thursday, November 20th, 2014

People are drawn to the unknown. It’s a truth about human nature that has allowed us to evolve and grow. From a young age, we want to understand why the world is the way it is and how things work. I remember my children at that inquisitive age were every other word out of their mouths was ‘why.’ Adults harbor the same need to understand the unexplainable, but we’ve also learned to fear the unknown. It’s why horror movies and scary tales of aliens and other worlds are so popular.

As a writer, I love taking an aspect of the paranormal world and offering a plausible scientific explanation. It adds to the mystery of the genre, and in my opinion, makes it more exciting. You’re left wondering—could vampires, demons, and ancient gods be real? Our ancestors thought so. Every ancient culture has myths and folklore that detail a variety of paranormal creatures and how they fit into their world. It begs the question of why there are all these stories from different parts of the world about the same mystical beings.

I don’t have an answer to that, although the whimsical part of me wants to believe they knew something we don’t. What I do have is some insight on how I wove in a few possible explanations for the creatures in my newest release—Mist Unveiled, book 1 of the Elemental Desire series.

In the world of the Elemental Desire series, Ragnarok is coming. (In case you don’t know, Ragnarok is the final battle between the Norse gods. It marks the death and rebirth of the world. According to the Norse myth, Ragnarok is cyclic, much like the seasons.) In Mist Unveiled, global warming has triggered the early slide into the end of the world. Melting icebergs have released a dangerous enemy and the players of the final battle have awoken too late to prevent it. They’re left scrambling to understand a world that no longer believes in the old gods or their warnings.

Humans have ignored the cautionary tales of old world and turned to science to help them solve their problems. They no longer look to myths to explain the unknowns, and it’s their need to understand ‘why’ that just might ensure this Ragnarok is the final one.

Do you know of any other Norse myths? What are your favorites?

Mist Unveiled

mist unveiled

Elemental Desire, Book 1

Cat has one love in her life—science. Facts rule her, not passion. At least it doesn’t until an unknown deadly virus claims her sister’s life. Cat’s quest for answers takes her to Greenland and drops her into the arms of the one man who sways her devotion from logic to passion. Rune stirs her lusts, ignites her desires and fuels her carnal cravings, but he isn’t simply a lover, nor is he human. He’s a weapon, one that has the potential to save or destroy her.

Rune, a child of the mist, awakens into a world hovering on the verge of destruction. Rising temperatures have released his enemies from their frozen prison without his knowledge. He searches for them but finds Cat, a human with the power to save him and the world. He hungers for her—blood, body and soul. Every moment of shared passion convinces him of the truth—she’s his greatest treasure, one he’ll die to keep.


Unable to resist the scent of heaven that had lured him to her in the first place, he buried his face into the fall of her raven hair. She smelled of something fruity and exotic. He couldn’t place the scent, but it compounded his craving. He wanted to devour her.

Deep breaths filled his lungs with her signature fragrance. Dizziness gripped him. He tightened his hold on her to stop himself from swaying and unleashed his will to influence her. With the few drops of his blood in her body, he wasn’t sure it’d actually work, but he had to try something.

“Calm down. I’m not going to hurt you.”

She hiccupped. The fingers scratching at his back stilled. He waited a moment for her to succumb completely to his order. Her tense body and rapid heartbeat didn’t lessen as they should have. More expletives whipped through him at the implications of her resistance. He took another breath to calm his racing pulse.

“You’re going to bring the authorities here. They’ll harass me, maybe toss me in jail, all for kissing you. You don’t want that.”

“Don’t I?”

Shit. He dropped his forehead to her shoulder and reined in his power. It was pointless to expend the energy if she was resistant to it. “No, you don’t. You can’t blame me for losing control when faced with temptation. You’re beautiful, Cat.”

She turned her head. He eased back and met her probing eyes. “How do you know my name?”

Purchase Links

Add Mist Unveiled to you TBR at Goodreads!

Author Bio

A true romantic at heart, Nancy Corrigan is convinced there’s a knight in shining armor for every woman (or man), but you won’t find damsels in distress in her stories. She adores pairing alpha heroes with woman strong enough to match them and bring them to their knees. She also enjoys flipping the traditional roles in romances because her motto is—love and people should never be forced to conform to anyone’s norm.

She holds a degree in chemistry and has worked in research but now focuses on ensuring quality. She considers it the perfect outlet for her as she’s the first to admit she has some OCD tendencies. It carries over into her writing life too. While engrossed in a novel, she has a habit of forgetting to eat and sleep. Fortunately, she’s married to her own knight in shining armor who understands her oddities and loves her anyway. They reside in Pennsylvania with their three children, dog, snake and guinea pigs. Her other interests include tattoos, animals, classic cars and all things spooky and sexy.

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Cora Blu: Ridge Book III Brothers of Element Series (Contest)
Monday, November 17th, 2014

Thank you Delilah for hosting me today.

My name is Cora Blu and I write interracial/ multicultural contemporary and underwater romance.

cbBlog picture for Delilah

In this series, the heroine’s nationality depends on the surroundings. So we get to see women from around the world become ocean queens.

Ridge is the third novel and fifth book in the Brothers of Element Series and I believe he’s my sexiest male yet. Always known as the bad brother, it’s his turn to have a mate.

Brothers of Element is the story of six tiger shark shifter’s that rule the ocean and through a curse have the responsibility of protecting the corals existence. A particular coral, Clear Coral, holds their ability to shift.

Each male, resides over a different body of water.

They have a dream where they see their mate. It’s up to them to find her before the coral begins to die. Their combined DNA is what feeds her because the females have a connection to the ocean.

Crisis: Ridge is king over the arctic protecting the shifters that call it home. Polar bears are under his protection. His human life mate tags and studies the polar bear for a living. And she’s the local bush pilot land.

Svetlana, will know him from her dreams, but she has no way of knowing he’s real until he claims her.

Here’s an excerpt of the moment before he would bring her into his underwater world:

He hadn’t bothered to shift and heal his wounds, not wanting Svetlana to leave work before he arrived. It was close to the shore, and he could get her into the ocean unseen. Crossing the street to the short expanse of open field, he stayed to the shadows, walking along the back of the brick building crunching through the surface of the undisturbed snow. He ducked avoiding the security camera under the eaves. Slipping in through the delivery door he waited in the shadows of the smaller office, while some old rocker blared out something about sucking on a chili dog… and dribbling off, whatever Bobby Brooks where so he could do what he pleased.

His moistening mouth went slack, as he gaped at the voluptuous site. Svetlana shoved the chair back and wiggled her hips swaying her arms over her head as she moved around the office. A seductive grin tugged at the corner of his lips. He’d have to find this music so she could dance for him in their bedchamber at night. Hungry for more, he let his gaze sweep around following the sensual gyrating she did when she…hell…bent over her chair to type on her keyboard. Ridge’s chest burned with the picture before him. No gap between her thighs—perfect.

When the song changed, he logged to memory the name John Cougar Mellencamp. The song changed again and someone named Rod Steward began singing about young hearts and then another asking if you want his body and think he’s sexy.

He thought Svetlana was sexy incarnate—to tease him in public and exhaust him in private. Adjusting the erection tearing at his zipper, he rested on his heels. Ridge sucked in a long draw of the cool air, calming the animal beginning to stir within him. Hell, his animal was fighting mad, wanting to get out and see what had awakened the shark.

His female was tall with curves, lots of them…well-rounded female curves.

Ridge popped into her mind to witness the fantasy of her thoughts.


Svetlana danced with him in her private thoughts…him.


To find out more about the underwater goodness of the Brothers of Element Series, check out book I, Dagger. They’re not your average shifter.

I will send a paperback copy of Ridge, to one person leaving a comment below.

Thank you, Cora Blu
Cora’s Amazon Author Page
Cora’s Website