Hey there! I just looked at the calendar. Where has this year gone? I don’t know how 2014’s been for you, but it’s blown by me. And next week’s Thanksgiving, which means if I blink it will be Christmas. Another blink and it will be 2015! It’s time to start thinking about my New Year’s rez list. Do you do one? Do you always have “Lose weight” at the top like I do? Maybe I won’t even bother putting it on the list this year because I don’t want to bomb the first item on the first day. 🙁

So, it’s Saturday, which for some means a day off and time to kick up the feet and spend some quality “me” time. Maybe read a book…? Is that what you do? Tell me about your Saturday!

If you post a comment today, you’ll be entered
to win a free copy of the story below!

Oh, and one last thing before I share a fun excerpt from one of my favorite Lone Star Lovers novellas—I’ll be sending out a newsletter soon, filled with goodies you won’t want to miss. So, if you’re not already signed up, here’s the link: Newsletter Signup.

Breaking Leather

One for remembrance…one for healing…and one to seal her heart forever.

Lone Star Lovers, Book 4

Chrissi Page has tried to find one man who heats her bed the way the Kinzie brothers did one shameful night years ago. She’s failed miserably, leaving her with no choice but to bank that inner fire—and keep a lid on her inner bad girl.

She’d been weak, unable to choose between three men who appealed to her in different ways. And when they’d confronted her as a tease, anger had boiled over into a passion so wild, she’s still trying to live it down.

Since that night, Ezra, Cade and Joshua have individually sown their wild oats with pretty much the entire available female population of Two Mule, Texas. Yet nothing erases the attraction they still feel for Chrissi. And when she ends up stranded on the road near their ranch, it’s their last chance to turn their mutual obsession into an unusual proposition.

One weekend, three on one. If she can’t stand the heat, they’ll let her go on with her life. And try to find a way to live with the hole she’ll leave behind in theirs.

Warning: A girl who thinks she can’t have it all, and three brothers who set out to prove otherwise. One on one, two on one, and three on one; bondage in the wild; a bit of riding crop action. And a pickup truck load of emotion.

Chrissi Page raised her cell phone in the air, staring at the screen. No bars. Not even a hint of one skinny, green nub. “Oh, come on,” she moaned as her radiator hissed behind her. “Damn, damn, damn.”

She’d been tempted to ignore the CHECK ENGINE light when it first appeared, wanting to take the chance she could limp back into Two Mule. However, the steam seeping from under the hood had pretty much killed that hope.

Today was not the day for her car to break down. Not so far from town. Not so close to their ranch. Any minute now one of the Kinzie brothers might happen by.

They’d stop because they’d never leave a woman stranded.

They might not let her go because of their shared past.

And she didn’t know if she had the strength anymore to fight fate or her own inexplicable needs.

Macy Pettigrew, her best friend and boss, had sent her to the Dunstan house to make sure the owners had followed her suggestions to increase the house’s curb appeal. Never mind that there wasn’t a curb. Not really even a road—more of a caliche-covered goat trail that meandered up a steep hillside, rutted from runoff during recent summer storms.

Something must have happened to her car on the run up that hill. She’d heard the rocks pinging against her undercarriage but had been too busy thinking about Ms. Dunstan’s handsome neighbors. She’d been afraid she’d pass them or that they might stop in to see old Lettie Dunstan, the widow selling off her roughhewn, century-old home.

Chrissi had forced a smile on her face, looked at the potted plants the old woman had placed in pretty window boxes and admired the paint she’d used to spruce up the weathered door and window frames. The junk the old woman’s husband had accumulated, and that she hadn’t had the heart to part with after his passing, was gone from the front lawn. And lo and behold, grass was beginning to grow to fill in the brown patches where engines and tires had lain.

Macy would be pleased. They had a potential buyer. One who’d relayed an offer via email, which had checked out with the mortgage lender. Details Macy had been eager to handle herself, leaving the showings to Chrissi.

Chrissi heard a powerful engine rev. She slowly lowered her arm and glanced nervously over her shoulder. A metallic sage pickup truck pulled off the road behind her, and her stomach dropped to her toes. She’d known the moment her CHECK ENGINE light had shone that this was going to happen.

And good Lord, it had to be Ezra Kinzie. His dark gaze narrowed on her through the windshield, the intensity of it feeling like the hissing heat of a brand against her skin.

He opened his door and stepped down, slamming it with a decisive shove. Everything Ezra did was deliberate. He never wavered once a decision was made.

Long ago, he’d decided he wasn’t going to fight his brothers for her. If she wasn’t going to decide among them, then she’d have to take them all.

And, Lord help her, she had.

She’d never gotten over that night, had never been able to push it to the farthest corner of her mind when she lay down to sleep. Just the memory of it made her hot, cold, wet…

And horribly ashamed. Anyone could have seen them beneath the bleachers at the homecoming game. Gossip hadn’t followed, but that didn’t make her any less self-conscious when she strode down the sidewalk on Main Street.

Someone might know. Someone might tell. The thought of that sordid night being revealed left her feeling nauseated. Her life had been circumspect ever since, her love life nonexistent.

They’d left her scarred. Unable to move on.

Not because they’d harmed her physically, but because she hadn’t been able to shake off the terrible attraction that tempted her every single day since that fateful night.

Boots crunched on the gravel at the side of the road. The brim of Ezra’s straw cowboy hat left his ice-blue eyes in shadow.

She straightened away from her car and squared her shoulders.

“Havin’ trouble, Chrissi?”

“It just showed up,” she said under her breath, determined not to let him see how flustered she felt.

One side of his mouth quirked up. He glanced up at the sky, squinting against the bright Texas sun before leveling that devastating stare on her again.

Her belly clenched, and she fought hard not to give him any clues about how he still affected her. Just the rumble of his deep voice always made her think of crisp, cool sheets and hot, slick skin.

Her glance flicked over his body-hugging dark tee, noted his well-developed chest, the bulge of his biceps, his taut abdomen. She started to sweat. “Will you call a tow truck for me when you get home?”

A frown dug a deep crease between his dark brows. “Get in my truck, Chrissi. I’m not leavin’ you on the side of the road.”

“I’m not goin’ anywhere with you, Ezra Kinzie,” she said tightly.

A muscle rippled alongside his jaw. “I’m just offerin’ you a place to wait out of the sun. And a cool drink. Nothin’ more.”

His features were stern, his jaw rigid, but the heat blazing from his eyes mesmerized her, made her want to sway toward him. The intensity of that unblinking stare made her wish he’d take the decision right out of her hands. She’d never willingly take that first step. Her days of following his commands were over.

Chrissi swallowed hard and broke from his glance, looking down the road and praying someone else would appear over the crest of the hill. She needed rescuing from the deep emotions roiling inside her—from the temptation his large, hard frame embodied. However, only the shimmer of heat waves rose off the black tar.

A trickle of moisture dripped between her breasts, gliding along one curve—and just like that, her imagination replaced the slide of that hot little bead with the tip of his tongue. She turned away from him and dragged in a couple of deep breaths, trying to stiffen her resolve, but the only things hardening were the tips of her breasts. She crossed her arms over her chest and lifted her chin, then turned to aim a glare at the one man who had the power to make her knees quiver.

So many memories swamped her as she stared into his handsome, rugged face. So many regrets sat like soured milk in her gut. He’d been “the one” until she’d succumbed to a dark sensual greed.

Too bad she couldn’t turn back the clock about seven years. She’d make damn sure she’d never let him take her hand and pull her into the shadows.

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!

~~

Connect with me online at my website and blog, http://lizzieashworth.com/
Friend me at https://www.facebook.com/liz.ashworth.524
Like my Facebook author page at https://www.facebook.com/AuthorLizzieAshworth?ref=hl
Goodreads Author Page: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7171772.Lizzie_Ashworth

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

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.

Excerpt

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?”

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Add Mist Unveiled to you TBR at Goodreads! https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/23248146-mist-unveiled

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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Just a quick note! This is what the ranking for SEALs of Winter looks like this morning! 

Kobo and Barnes & Noble are just as crazy! Thanks to everyone who bought the book! And keep those reviews coming.

Now, enjoy an excerpt from Nicole Morgan’s Remind Me. ~DD

* * * * *

After 12 years of marriage, Priscilla Blackwood has decided to leave her husband. Retreating to their mountain cabin, she hopes the time away will help heal the heartache she feels from leaving the only man she’s ever loved.  When Max Blackwood returns home to find out that his wife has left him he is devastated. Refusing to give up on her or the life they’ve built together, he sets out to find her before it is too late. When a winter storm hits, his plan to rescue their marriage careens off course.  Will being stranded together in a blizzard be enough to repair their broken relationship? Or will Max be forced to say goodbye to the woman who stole his heart so many years ago.

Excerpt

His chest contracted and expanded in painful successions. Everything he’d become had been inspired by her. She’d walked by his side, fought for their life together, and become more than a wife…she’d become his reason for being. To not have her, to live without her, it was too unbearable for him to consider.

He couldn’t help himself from reaching down and wrapping his arms around her and holding her tight. To his surprise, he didn’t feel clothing or pajamas. He couldn’t remember much of what happened after he got here. Feeling her naked skin made the rest of it inconsequential.

She felt unbelievably good under his touch. His fingertips gently rubbed at her back, trailing along the curves of her shoulders and sides. As he allowed his hands to wander further down, he felt the round globes of her ass and palmed them in his hands.

His cock instantly responded to her soft body and began to thicken and harden underneath her. He breathed in deeply and took in the scent of her hair. The familiar smell of that minty shampoo she always used made the moment that much more real.

“Cilla,” he whispered while gently brushing the hair from her face.

She stirred in his arms and looked up at him through sleepy eyes. “Max. Are you okay?”

“I am now.”

“Your head. It looks worse this morning.” She reached up to touch it, but her actions were halted.

He raised his arms and placed them underneath hers, pulling her up to him. He didn’t wait for an invitation or a sign of acceptance. He just took what he wanted, what was already his, and what he had no intentions of letting go.

He crushed his lips against hers and swiped his tongue inside her mouth. The delicious flavor of her kiss had never tasted so sweet. Her soft body melted against his as she met every part of his kiss. Her tongue stroked against his as they fed off of one another.

Her acceptance was one of the many things he loved about his Cilla. Such a sweet and loving wife, but in bed she could set his soul on fire. She never held back or pretended to hide her true self. She embraced her sexuality and how good they were together.

He lifted his hips and ground his cock against her body. Dropping his hands, he slid one between their bodies and searched for the warmth between her thighs. It didn’t take him long before he found exactly what he had been pursuing. Her closely shaven hair felt like freshly spun silk underneath his calloused fingers.

He let out a groan filled with a combination of frustration and delight. He loved Cilla anyway he could get her, but he’d always preferred a smooth shaven pussy. It was a predilection of his that she never seemed to forget. Proving, as always, that she loved to please him.

He slid his fingers past the slick folds of her pussy and dipped his middle finger inside. A whimper tore from her, which he quickly swallowed. He loved feasting on the lascivious noises that came from her. They were like fuel to his fire, encouraging him to take more.

Hot juices coated his finger as he continued to play with her, ensuring her readiness for him. He pulled his finger out and worked her wetness up and down along her slit. With his thumb he pressed against her clit and strummed it. He alternated his pressure, touching soft and then hard, moving faster and then slower. He continued the taunt until her body started to squirm against him. His cock twitched in anticipation when he felt her start to move. He knew his Cilla and knew she was past the point of no return.

Pulling his hand out from between them, he lifted her up, effectively breaking their kiss. They stared at one another breathlessly as he pushed her back until she hovered over his cock. She straddled him as he positioned himself at her entrance. With his cock fisted in his hand he looked into her eyes like he had so many times before. They were blue and absolutely breathtaking. There wasn’t a spec to her irises that he didn’t know. He studied every microscopic millimeter of those eyes and knew them as surely as he knew her body. He sensed her hesitation despite her readiness. He knew they needed to talk about her letter, about why she did it and about so many things. This wasn’t the time, though. He needed this, and from the gaze he saw in her eyes, he knew she did, too. She didn’t say a word as he pushed himself forward. Her head dropped back and her body arched into his thrust.

Sweet Jesus.

Max grabbed onto her hips and squeezed her soft skin. She held him so snug in her wet heat. Each and every time felt like the very first. He couldn’t count the moments he’d told her their bodies were made for one another. It was a fact that had been proven to him over and over again. Her pussy held him like a velvet laced vice. There was nothing as exquisite as having his cock held by his Cilla.

Purchase links:

Publisher: http://www.evernightpublishing.com/remind-me-by-nicole-morgan
Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Remind-Me-Romance-Nicole-Morgan-ebook/dp/B00PPE2GZI
ARe: http://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-remindme-1681979-149.html
Barnes & Noble: Not yet available
iTunes: Not yet available
Kobo: Not yet available
Google: Not yet available
Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/494005
Bookstrand: http://www.bookstrand.com/remind-me-mf

Author Bio:

Nicole Morgan is an author of erotic romance novels, which more often than not have a suspenseful back story. Erotic romance mixed with good old-fashioned whodunit. While she’s written everything from contemporary to paranormal her leading men will more than likely be wearing a uniform of some kind. From military to police officers, she has a love for writing about those who protect and serve. From her very first novel (which turned into a four book series) about Navy SEALs to her more recent releases you will be sure to find a few twists and turns you were not expecting.

She also has a recurring monthly column in Book & Trailer Showcase’s eMagazine, is a proud member of the Romance Books 4 Us Gold Authors, as well as being a Sweet and Sexy Diva. In addition, Nicole is one third of the scintillating trio, Mile High Muses and is the twitter coordinator for Marketing for Romance Writers.

Find out more about Nicole and her books by visiting her website, blog, Google + Page, Twitter, Facebook and her Yahoo Group, Nicole’s Think Tank.

Keep up to date with Nicole:

http://AuthorNicMorgan.com http://www.authornicolemorgan.blogspot.com http://www.amazon.com/author/nicolemorgan http://www.twitter.com/authornicmorgan https://www.facebook.com/AuthorNicoleMorgan https://www.plus.google.com/u/0/+NicoleMorgan/posts http://www.pinterest.com/AuthorNicMorgan/ http://www.instagram.com/authornicmorgan https://www.goodreads.com/NicoleMorgan

Buy Links: Kindle | Nook | Kobo | iBooks

Ready for another sexy SEAL book? Well, it’s here! And only $.99—for a very limited time only. So don’t wait to order it! And for those of you who do pick up a copy—read it! We need your reviews!

What do you think? Do you love that cover?!

Thank you Delilah for hosting me today.

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

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.

Shocked.

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

What’s an author to do when he or she gets back the rights to a number of previously published books? There are several choices, one of which involves diving headfirst into the world of self-publishing. Another is to seek out another publisher, but that’s not necessarily a slam-dunk if you haven’t developed a relationship with that publisher by having a record of publishing original material there. A third option is to utilize a self-publishing service such as the one that several agents offer alongside the material they actually represent to publishing houses.

When I got rights reverted on thirty-four of my oldest Ellora’s Cave titles a few weeks ago, my first impulse was to self publish them myself. So far I’ve managed to put out three novels, which leaves me with twenty-nine to go. It’s not as simple as it sounds at first!

The simplest thing was to give the books new titles, and engage my favorite cover artist to give each book a fantastic, new cover that reflects it and gives it the “look” I envisioned. Here are the results.

Next, I had to do revisions—A Very Special Favor needed to be toned down a little from its original bestselling version, and to have characters incorporated that will become additional stories in a new, original western contemporary series tied into “Rand”, a novella I wrote for the bundled set, Men of Calder County. This took a few days—and required finding a great formatter, because formatting anything longer than a short story was beyond my supply of patience.

I decided to put out the twice-reverted Bliss House as the updated, sensual but not erotic iteration that didn’t involve a lot of revision, complete with its gorgeous, new cover art by Syneca and formatting by Wizards in Publishing. That went a little smoother, so I decided to put together an EC series as one book, Roped, Hitched & Lassoed, since the novellas were closely tied together. Making them into one novel took a little doing.

Because I’m moving away from the erotic romance toward highly sensual, contemporary romance featuring one man and one woman, I plan to do two boxed sets of an EC series, led off by a new novella that will be perma-free and introduce the characters in the boxed sets. This will be my last major revision and self-publishing venture of the older books, and they may include another original or two, to come out early next year.

The rest? I’m going to give them to one of the self-publishing services so I can go on with my current work. That will include my historicals, fantasies, vampires and other miscellaneous books that outlived their usefulness at Ellora’s Cave. I considered coming up with a new pseudonym for my nonerotic stuff, but decided that it’s all I can do to maintain one name—so I’ll be Ann Jacobs erotic, and Ann Jacobs light, for my fiction, and Ann Jacobs craft for the nonfiction book I’m getting ready to publish on self-editing. 🙂

This is new, exciting and a little mind-boggling. The vision can be modest, or it can be lengthy, in the case of erotic romances specifically written as erotic. Language that was frankly sexual may need cleaning up, particularly when the presentation will be “EC light”. Some books that were three or more novellas may be compressed into a single longer novel, which I’ve done with one of my EC series so far, in order to reinvent them as a longer, still erotic novel that involves the same BDSM theme that carried through the series originally.

About Ann:

Cats, orchids and kids, not necessarily in that order–these are things I like other than writing about lusty Alpha heroes and happy endings.

I started writing back in the early ’90s after I’d retired from my first career as a CPA/hospital financial manager. For a while my life revolved around my family, but by the time the  kids had all started school, I found time to fantasize and to start putting the conversations my characters kept whispering in my ear down in writing. (It helped, obviously, to have discovered by that time that the personal computer did wonders toward mitigating my incompetent, error-riddled typing skills.) By the millennium I had sold five books and an erotic novella before I hit a snag.

You see, my muse screamed at me to write hotter, forget the euphemisms and pry open the bedroom doors. My characters wanted to get uninhibited <gulp> outside where they might be spied upon. Come to think of it, I didn’t even slam the bedroom doors closed in any of the five Berkley and Kensington releases although I did tone down the realism as far as language went, and I refrained from letting my hero and heroine have sex in semi-public places. I wanted to write Romantica (TM), though I didn’t even know what it was at the time. New York wasn’t ready for the ways my characters wanted to misbehave.

Then, in 2002, along came Ellora’s Cave. I was in heaven! Twelve years and eighty-seven books later, I’m writing what I love: erotic romance, a perfect combination of sex, sensuality, deep emotional involvement and lifelong commitment—the elusive fantasy women often dream about but seldom achieve.

Learn more about Ann and her books at her website: http://annjacobs.mobi/