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Archive for March, 2017



Lizzie Ashworth: The Escape (FREE READ)
Thursday, March 9th, 2017

Hello Delilah fans! Spring is upon us, most of us at least. Libidos stir in days of budding flowers and warm air. What better time to enjoy a torrid romance?

I’ve got a freebie for you again this month, but fair warning—giveaways with future blog posts may not include frequent freebies as they have in these past few months. If you want to never miss a giveaway, subscribe to my once-a-month newsletter. That’s where to nab freebies plus notices of upcoming releases, juicy tidbits, and other good stuff. Sign-up at http://eepurl.com/bHOyS9 and be assured that your info goes no further than my fingertips. The newsletter is free and you can unsubscribe at any time.

Now to a brief confession: sometimes when I write a story, it keeps on living after I quit. I consider that a success as far as writing goes, but it can become quite the nag. After nearly two years, the nagging that surfaced after I finished writing “The Captive” became deafening. So I’ve written a second installment, “The Escape,” in what seems destined to become a lengthier tale.

“The Captive” is a short story set in the late 9th century England when the Saxons and Danes were fighting over control of the land. Seeking a brief time of secret pleasure with a captured Danish warrior, Elspeth Lady of Hystead hides away in a remote cabin on her estate and has the man delivered to her. Her aging invalid husband will be none the wiser. Yet an unexpected problem arises and it has nothing to do with her husband. It has to do with this stunning man standing before her, tied and injured, his long blond hair partially hiding the disdain in his intense stare. This was not what she expected.

Not at all.

Book 2, “The Escape,” is a novelette, available at your favorite bookseller.

So here you go—use this code RE54R for your free copy of “The Captive” at Smashwords—and always remember, Indie authors thrive on your reviews!

~~~

About Lizzie Ashworth

A bit about me – I live in the wilds of the Ozark Mountains with three cats, two hound dogs, and whichever child has taken up temporary residence between grad school and relocation. I’ve been writing my entire life and can’t express how wonderful it is to share stories with readers like you. Every book comes from the heart in the hopes that you will find a bit of pleasure within those pages.

Follow me for free erotic short works, hot photos, and the occasional rant on my blog at http://lizzieashworth.com/

Like my Facebook author page for updates on other nice and naughty works https://www.facebook.com/AuthorLizzieAshworth/

Enjoy some amazing eye candy? Check out my Pinterest page https://www.pinterest.com/ashworthlizzie/

Elizabeth Harmon: An Interview with HEATING IT UP’s Alexei Zaikov (Giveaway)
Wednesday, March 8th, 2017

Delilah, thanks for the chance to come on your blog and share one of my favorite things about my new release Heating It Up: A Red Hot Russians Novella.  Heating It Up has a unique setting—a remote research station in Antarctica, and while that’s one of my favorite things about the book, as a romance fan, we know that the hero is the sexy icing on the cake.

So it’s with pleasure that I introduce Heating It Up’s hero, Alexei Zaikov, the head of the Amity Bay Antarctica station and my latest Red Hot Russian.

Welcome, Alexei.

Spasibo! That means thank you in Russian.

Alexei, as the head of an Antarctic research station, you have an interesting job. Tell us a little about it.

As station manager, I am a bit like mayor, a bit like sheriff and a bit like a psychologist! It is my job to see that Amity Bay runs smoothly, even though our buildings are old and need repair, and Antarctic climate is like nowhere else on earth.  I also must see everyone stays safe and follows the rules, which isn’t as simple as it sounds. Here is where psychologist part comes in. The people who call Amity Bay home come from all over the world. Some had hard lives before they came here—not that living in Antarctica is easy! But our isolation means we have to accept our differences and find ways to get along. People at Amity Bay are like family, and it’s one of the things I love about living on the Ice.

What are some other things?

Living here fulfills a dream I’ve had since I was a boy, and my mother gave me an old globe. I knew someday, I wanted to go to the big white continent at the bottom. I was born and raised in Siberia so cold has never bothered me. I’ve been to the South Pole, climbed Mt. Eurebus, which is an active volcano, and spent time in Dry Valley, an unearthly landscape that resembles Mars.  This land is so beautiful and also very strange. There are lakes and a mountain range buried beneath glaciers. There are animals in the waters no one has ever seen.  Icebergs that are blue and green, a waterfall that is red. And a lake that never freezes.

Besides the cold weather, what’s hardest about life on the Ice?

While the isolation has brought people here together, it’s hard being so far from people I love. My father is in Russia, my brother Misha and his wife live in America. We stay in touch online, but I don’t get to see them as much as I would like. I would like to find someone to share my life, as Misha has with his Amy. But as station manager, I can’t start something with any of the women who work for me, and women I meet off the Ice, lose interest as soon as they find out I spend most of my time in Antarctica. Those ones it doesn’t bother, usually because they have something to hide, as I learned the hard way.

What would make me happy is if I could find a woman who does not work at Amity Bay, but loves the continent as much as I do. Maybe one day, I will meet someone like that.

Curious about Red Hot Russian Alexei’s chances to find the woman of his dreams in the frozen wilderness of Antarctica? Download Heating It Up: A Red Hot Russians Novella, now at a limited time sale price, and enjoy this excerpt:

A woman?  Dread prickled inside Alexei’s clothes. “Hello?” His voice echoed in the emptiness.

He started up the stairs, every sense alert. Who was she? How did she get here? Most of all, why would a woman hide out alone in an empty building during an Antarctic winter?

The second-floor landing opened into a library.  In the middle of the room, was a worktable, covered with drawings. Stunned, he picked up a drawing of a luminous green iceberg that looked more like trapped emeralds, than ancient plankton and sea plants which were the real cause. Again, came a startling thought of Quinn’s secretary Nora, with the ethereal green eyes.

From behind, a floorboard creaked.

He spun around; coming face to face with someone he’d never expected to see again. Her once-ruby lips were pale and taut, but there was no mistaking those eyes.

“Put it down. Now.”

* * *

Amazon:
https://www.amazon.com/Heating-Up-Red-Russians-Novella-ebook/dp/B01NBI008P

Barnes and Noble
http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/heating-it-up-elizabeth-harmon/1125305385?ean=2940153876726

Kobo
https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/heating-it-up-a-red-hot-russians-novella

Apple ITunes Books
https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/heating-it-up-red-hot-russians/id1185123438?mt=11

Smashwords
https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/684794

Goodreads:
https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/33292473-heating-it-up

 

Giveaway

NEW RELEASE #GIVEAWAY WIN DIGITAL COPIES OF THE FIRST THREE BOOKS IN THE RED HOT RUSSIANS SERIES.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

About the Author

Elizabeth Harmon loves to read and write romances with a dash of different.

A graduate of the University of Illinois, she has worked in advertising, community journalism and as a freelance magazine writer. She feels incredibly blessed to have a career that allows her to spend her days imagining “what if?” and a loving family that keeps her grounded in the real world.  Her debut novel, Pairing Off is a 2016 RITA Award Finalist.

An adventurous cook, vintage home enthusiast, occasional actress, and entry-level figure skater, Elizabeth makes her home in the Midwest, where life is good, but the sports teams aren’t. She loves to hang out on her front porch, or at her favorite local establishments, enjoy good food and wine, and talk writing with anyone who will listen.

Follow Elizabeth: Website |  Facebook  |  Twitter  |  Amazon  | Goodreads | BookBub |  BookLikes  | Google+

Flashback: Sweet Succubus (Sexy Excerpt & Contest)
Tuesday, March 7th, 2017

I’m up to my eyeballs in work! I feel like a broken record! I’m eking out stories here and there, editing and releasing golden oldies, editing for clients, but there are soooo many distractions (grandma’s care, kid’s doctor’s appointments, flu!) that writing has been taking a bit of a back seat. Today is the day I get back in the saddle with a new-ish story—the Happy-Ever-After for Viper from my Night Fall series. I wrote a rather sweet & sad short story for him a while back. Now, I’m adding the pages folks wanted to reunite Viper with Mariah. So, in between edits, I’ll be pounding out pages. Watch me fly! Where’s the coffee?!

Comment for a chance to win one of these stories!
“Attagirls” would be helpful!

Sweet Succubus

Sweet Succubus

Melanie Bradshaw is driven to horny desperation by her torrid dreams. When she finally acts on her desires, things go horribly wrong and she witnesses the murder of an overly amorous lounge lizard—whose body disintegrates before her eyes.

Detective Moses Brown isn’t thrilled to get another “full-moon case”…until he meets the delectable Melanie, who took a walk on the wild side straight into vampire territory. Moses doesn’t know why vamps are interested in her, but until he can find out, he’s going to stick to her like glue, doing his best to ignore their instant attraction.

But pretty little Melanie has designs on his body. Her hunger for sex is voracious, even downright insatiable. As the mystery surrounding begins to unravel, keeping her safe—hell, keeping himself safe from her—presents some interesting complications…

Get your copy here!

Excerpt…

The door creaked, footsteps padded his way. He flipped the sheet she’d given him, covered his hips, then leaned up on an elbow to peer over the couch.

She hovered near the bedroom doorway, a thin nightgown draping her slender curves. “I just wanted to make sure you’d be all right…on the couch.” Her teeth bit into her bottom lip. Her eyebrows drew together.

She didn’t look worried, but rather, annoyed. Moses gave her a faint grin. “It’s a little short. The couch, I mean.”

“I could sleep here. You can have the bed.”

He shook his head, knowing he’d be in hell sleeping in sheets drenched with her feminine scent. “Get some shuteye, Melanie. You’re safe.”

She remained in the doorway, her expression awash with indecision. “Why are you doing this?”

“I’m one of the good guys,” he murmured, wanting her to relax. Needing her to move inside her bedroom so he could relax.

She came closer, hovering beside the couch.

Her expression was fluid, gliding from anxious to something he was afraid to read too much into. Cursing himself for being a horn-dog, he dropped his legs to the floor and sat up, careful to keep the sheet masking his hard-on. “Sit.”

“Okay.” Melanie came around the couch and hesitated over the space he’d made, then, instead of sitting beside him, eased over his lap.

Moses held his breath, his hands clenching the edge of the sofa. “Melanie, what’re you doin’?”

Her hands clutched together in her lap; she didn’t meet his gaze. “I’m sorry. I don’t have anyone else.”

She sat square on his erection, crowding it down against his thigh. Not something she could miss, but she wasn’t shying away.

All she wants is comfort, he reminded himself. “Well, hell,” he muttered, and raised his arms to enfold her. He sat back, taking her with him, letting her curves settle against his chest.

“You want me,” she said bluntly.

Moses rolled his eyes. “Yeah, and how do you know that?”

She snuggled closer to his chest, wriggling her soft ass against his growing erection. “Do you really need me to answer that?” she asked. Before he could respond, she continued, “And…you’re very nice.”

“I’m not,” he said, starting to sweat as her bottom shifted again. He wished he could clutch her hips and hold her still, but the thin fabric of her nightgown was hardly any barrier at all. “Don’t kid yourself.”

“I wouldn’t mind,” she whispered, her face nuzzling into his neck before she tilted back her head to meet his gaze.

“Mind what?” he asked, lungs tightening.

“Sharing a bed.” She ground down against his cock. “Taking care of this. I owe you.”

“You don’t owe me a damn thing.” But girl, I’m not shoving you off my lap either, am I?

“I was looking for a hook-up,” she whispered, swallowing before looking away. “It’s why I went to the bar.”

A hook-up. With a stranger. His stomach turned. Why that bothered him so much wasn’t something he wanted to examine too closely.

The fact that she looked away briefly was telling. As much as he wanted to fuck her, he wasn’t about to take advantage of the fact that, obviously, she was scared and embarrassed. His hand caressed her back. “Why don’t you have a boyfriend? You’re pretty. Plenty sexy. You shouldn’t have to resort to havin’ sex with a stranger.”

“I haven’t lived here all that long. I haven’t met anyone. I work in a library with a bunch of women.” She raised her head, cupped the side of his face with her palm, and swiped a thumb over his bottom lip. “I’ve wanted to feel this mouth on my skin since I first saw you.”

Moses growled deep in his throat. But he shook his head, striving for sanity, for safety, one last time. Last thing he needed was to get mixed-up with her. Mixed-up with anyone. He walked in a dangerous world. The darkness clung to him like dirt. Sometimes, it followed him home.

Even though it killed him, he said, “I’m not what you want, sweetheart.”

She gave a soft snort. Her lips tightened. “Look, truth of the matter is, I’m scared as hell. Freaked out, really.” Her fingers tightened into a ball on his chest. “And I know what I want…what I need,” she said, swallowing hard, “is dick.”

Moses blinked, not believing what just came out of her sweet mouth.

She leaned forward and kissed his cheek. Her expressive eyes held a militant gleam. “Do a girl a favor. I need to be fucked. Long and hard. And I think you have exactly what I need.”

“Damn girl,” he whispered, his cock twitching its own halleluiahs.

“I want sex. Nothing more. No strings. Promise.”

Taking a deep breath to still his excitement, he tried one last time to do the right thing. “If all you want is to be held while you sleep…”

She leaned away and began to smile. A catlike grin that said she knew she had him. She climbed off his lap then crawled over him again, this time spreading her thighs, straddling him. “I’m not sleepy. For days, I’ve had the most lurid, raunchy dreams—every time I close my eyes. It’s why I couldn’t stand it one night longer. I need this. I need you. Right now, Detective Brown.”

With her steamy center bearing down, grinding against his covered shaft, he gave up. He let her move against him, watched her eyelids fall, her sweet mouth open as she moaned and dragged her pussy forward and back along his shaft. He dragged away the sheet from between them. Only her thin panties and his briefs were between them now. Both were wet.

His hands cupped her butt, and he lunged upward, long strides taking him to her door, right toward her bed. Her clothes lay in a puddle beside it, the necklace she’d worn dropped carelessly in the center. He stepped around the mound then leaned over the mattress and crawled to the center on his knees, one hand still clutching her soft bottom, keeping her hot pussy pressed tightly against him.

When he knelt in the middle of her soft bed, he bent, depositing her there. Her hands clutched the hem of her nightgown, and she wriggled to pull it over her head. He shoved down his briefs, getting them to his knees before she took over, her cheek sliding against his abdomen, making the muscles jump, as she reached to push the shorts off his legs. Her mouth pressed a kiss against the tip of his hard cock, but he shoved her back, too aroused, too desperate to be nice now.

Not that she seemed to mind. The corners of her sweet mouth lifted in a siren’s smile as she laid her arms on the bed, stretched out at her sides. He tucked his fingers under the waistband of her panties and tugged them off. Then she slid her heels up to bend her knees and parted her thighs.

As he looked at her sex, red and glistening, his balls drew tight against his groin. “Ever had a brother?” he rasped.

“Think I can’t take you?”

“Last chance.” He arched a brow. “I’m not little.”

Her laughter was soft and husky, sexy as hell. Her fingers wrapped around his shaft and squeezed before falling away.

Well, he’d given her an out. If she wasn’t worried, he wouldn’t be either.

Leaning over her, he tapped his cock against her center once, then pushed inside. She was small, tight, but so fucking hot he couldn’t be gentle, not now. He tunneled deep, groaning as he worked his way inside her, slick heat surrounding him every inch of the way.

Even as tiny, as slender as she was, she took him. Without hesitation or complaint, her throaty cries punctuating the air, hips churning to urge him deeper still.

“Lord have mercy,” he moaned. “Hold still. Just a minute,” he said, gasping.

Her nails dug into his ass. “Don’t stop. Not now. Detective Brown, move!”

Moses tried to hold back. Reached deep for control, but she was touching him, raking his skin with her nails, undulating so sweetly, so urgently, her pussy tightening all around him, gripping him, squeezing with feminine contractions that rippled up and down his shaft.

And already she was coming. Hard. Her head digging into the mattress, her mouth stretched wide. A choked scream ripped from her throat.

He caved, hammering her, pounding so deep, so hard, the bed jerked and scraped on the hardwood floor, the headboard thudding against the wall with each powerful surge of his hips. Only Sidney had ever been able to withstand his full-on thrusts. But this little woman, this tiny, fragile thing, writhing like a wild animal trapped beneath him, was taking it, taking all of him.

“Sweet Jesus…fuck… Oh, goddamn,” he said as his balls exploded, streams of cum shooting through his cock, filling her until he was sliding, churning in liquid so hot and thick he kept right on rocking, unwilling to end the sweet, wet pleasure.

But at last his strength gave, and he sank against her body, resting his chest against her quivering breasts. Her legs and arms were wrapped tightly around him, her face snug in the curve of his neck. When her mouth glided in the sweat coating his skin, he realized with a start he’d fucked her without ever kissing her, without ever touching her intimately. He’d crawled right over her and fucked her like a whore. And he hadn’t given a thought to using a goddamn condom.

He felt like an ass.

Ashamed, Moses buried his head in the bedding. Her hands made long, slow glides up his sides, over his back, soothing him. Dragging in deep gulps of air, he raised his head and pushed up on his hands to take his weight.

Her features were soft, her skin dewy and pink. Her eyes blinked sleepily and a smile spread slowly across her face. “Thank you.”

Disgust at himself had him curling his lips. “Don’t. That was…a huge fucking mistake.”

Her smile faded, and her brows drew together. “Because you’ve already got someone?”

“Because I’m a cop. And I’m supposed to be protecting you.”

“I asked for this. I needed it. And it was…good.”

Moses growled, irked now. Good? That’s all she had to say about sex that had his body still shaking in the aftermath? He gritted his teeth, pulled out of her silky heat, then climbed off her and rolled to his back at her side.

“Name’s Moses. I’ll sleep on the left.”

 

Melanie shot Moses a glance, but he wasn’t looking her way. His forearm covered his eyes. She wasn’t fooled. He’d been into it. Deep into her. Maybe he didn’t like the fact she’d come on to him. Maybe he was the kind of guy who liked to make the first move. Or maybe he really was disappointed in himself that he’d let down his guard.

However, she didn’t believe for even a moment that he hadn’t felt as pulled, as compelled, to have sex as she had. The sex had been raw, hard, and fast. Far too urgent for him not to have felt how special the coupling was. He’d rivaled the dark fantasies swirling in her dreams.

For now, however, she’d let him have his sulk. She had a few things to figure out anyway. Least of which was why she felt such a strong attraction to a man she’d just met—beyond the biological urges that had led her into trouble in the first place.

In the meantime, he wasn’t going anywhere, and she felt safe with his large body sprawled beside hers. Safe at last. Even if he was sulking.

Her lips twitched, a grin tugging, wanting to stretch, but she suppressed the urge, sure that if he peeked her way he’d be in a real huff.

Instead, she gave a little sigh, rolled to her side toward him, and tucked her body close, ignoring the way he stiffened for a moment before his hand curved over the back of her head and held her closer.

Never had she felt like this. Thrilled to her toes but wrapped in warmth, cozy and safe. She closed her eyes, rested a hand over the dull thud of his heart, and drifted into sleep.

It started again, even before she sank deep into the dream. Part of her aware she stroked his skin. Part of her floating away, drifting toward the ceiling, gazing down curiously at the couple entwined on her bed.

As she watched, Moses’s features grew lax in sleep. His legs twitched. The length of his cock, still drying in the air, lay curled against his thick thigh.

Her attention snagged on his sex. Read the rest of this entry »

Lynn Crain: The Joy of Collaboration
Monday, March 6th, 2017

Every once in a while, as a writer, you run across a group of people that you just know are special. I know quite a few such women and am fortunate enough to collaborate with many of them in things like critique groups, writing events and the occasional anthology. Now every group has their specific things like a critique group may have a deadline to get your story submitted whereas a submission for an anthology will be different.

It occurred to me during my last such effort with the Sin City Romance Writers, that each of those groups, especially those doing anthology projects have a few things in common. Here are six important factors needed for a successful anthology collaboration.

  1. Describe the Project ~ When being part of an anthology, you want to know just what you’re getting into before you join. Here are some good questions to ask:
    1. What is required?
    2. How are the writers assigned their portions? Do they just submit a story or are they given a specific task?
    3. What are the critique criteria?
    4. How is the editor chosen?
    5. Who does the formatting?
  1. Set realistic deadlines ~ This is very important when one is trying to put together an anthology as opposed to a boxed set. Boxed sets are where the stories are already done while anthology stories are normally something new the author has written. Thus more time is normally needed to do a regular anthology. Here’s a list of some of the deadlines normally needed during an anthology project:
    1. Submission date ~ when the authors need to submit their story.
    2. Editing date ~ when the stories be edited.
    3. Formatting date ~ when the stories be formatted for ebook and print book versions.
    4. Pre-order Date ~ when the anthology will be available for pre-order on all the big venues.
    5. Release date ~ when the book is set for release.
  1. Specify Ownership ~ Early on in the process, all the participants need to decide just who owns the work. Chances are the stories will be still be owned by their authors but the publishing house, and in most cases the group itself, will ‘own’ or rather ‘lease’ the rights for a certain period of time. Even if you are a group of friends, it is always a great idea to have a contract in place to make sure everyone follows the same set of rules. Also, contracts vary from publishing houses, so make sure you understand just what you are signing.
  1. Money ~ It all comes down to money and frankly, it doesn’t matter if you make a little or a lot. You still need to decide just how you’re going to allocate the income and deal with the expenses. If this is publishing house, you will know from your contract just what the royalty rate will be. Most expenditures on your part will be for marketing.

In a group situation, you may have decided to put this in the contract as well. Normally, the income is divided equally. In our case, we had a marketing clause that outlined just how much money each of us would put into the marketing pool.

  1. Marketing ~ This is one of the hardest parts when doing an anthology. Sometimes, by the time people get to this phase, the thrill is gone and they aren’t pushing as much as they should be. Still, for our group, we put our minds together and came up with a marketing plan that worked for us all. It did require that we put money into the plan and then do whatever we could on our own as extra. The very fact that we sat down and planned it all out is what makes it work. There was tones of discussion on just what had worked for people and what hadn’t.
  1. Reward yourselves ~ Once it’s all over and things are done, reward yourselves with a group dinner where you can plan your next anthology.

Hopefully, I’ve simplified the whole collaboration thing a little for those of you thinking about doing an anthology with a group of writer friends. One thing to remember, writing is a business and even if you are friends, you need to approach it that way.

Now you tell me if we did okay on our project, Decades of Love!

Decades of Love

Love hits the jackpot in these six seductive tales, each set in a different decade in the hottest, wildest, most sinful of cities – Las Vegas.  In Elizabeth Spaur’s Miss Atomic Bomb, a beauty pageant brings a cowboy and city girl together.  A desperate singer finds new hope with a not-so-jaded casino owner in B.A. McIntosh’s Home at Last.  In Lynn Crain’s, Hooked on a Feeling,  two Vietnam vets get a second chance at love while facing enemies at home.  A rodeo star falls hard for a showgirl in Diane Deeds’s Total Eclipse of the Heart.  In Kay Phoenix’s An Unexpected Knight, a hero on a mighty steed captures the heroine’s heart. A good girl learns that being bad can be very, very good in Tami Cowden’s It Happened One Vegas Night.   Mobsters and G-men, cowboys and showgirls, singers and dancers, and even a knight in shining armor  all find that Sin City is not just a place to have fun – but  also a great place to fall in love.

It Happened One Vegas Night by Tami Cowden

Jorja Knox has been a good girl all her life, but all she has to show for it is a cheating fiancé. Now she wants to try being bad. But when you work for the FBI, being bad just isn’t done.  So her brother’s Las Vegas wedding seems the perfect time to take a walk on the wild side. After all, like the commercials say, what happens in Vegas ….

Las Vegas lawyer Tony Santori has always walked a very straight line, steering clear of his uncle’s mob connections. But being a good boy in Sin City loses its appeal when a drop-dead gorgeous blond “tourist” from Denver decides he is her Vegas fantasy. The last time the FBI tried to get to his family through him, he was left heart-broken. This time, he’s spotted the bluff. This time, he’ll be the one who wins.

Hooked On A Feeling by Lynn Crain

Now that she’s returned home from the Vietnam war, all Reggie Genarro wants to do is forget she’s part of the infamous Vegas Genarro mob family. True, her father had broken the mold by becoming one of Las Vegas’ premier prosecutors, but it doesn’t negate the fact that her name has caused her more problems than it’s worth.

When she finds Michael Vanzetti, an ex-lover from her time in Vietnam, dumped in the trash by her great-uncle Sonny’s goons, she knows it’s time to confront her family ties to the mob instead of ignoring them. This may prove an impossible task as her feelings for Michael may overwhelm her before she can meet with her uncle.

Michael Vanzetti, on undercover assignment from Army Intelligence, is stunned when Reggie Genarro comes to his rescue. She’s all he ever wanted in a woman but he could never prove it to her while they were stationed in Vietnam. She never made it any secret that her family was mob connected. So, he volunteered for the assignment to find out how involved her family was with the Asian drug and weapons trade in hopes of seeing her again.

Total Eclipse of the Heart by Diane Deeds

Cody Hunter, a talented young bull rider, is in Las Vegas in 1986 for his first National Finals Rodeo. Cocky and overconfident from a good year, he is, however, haunted by the death of his best friend by a rank bull. Cody now considers all bulls as demons to be conquered.

Las Vegas showgirl, Sandy Keyes, can dance any position in the Celebrations revue. However, her current move to topless performer isn’t sitting well. She would never consider it, except she needs the extra money to repay her brother’s gambling debts.

Sandy knows nothing about the rodeo, but when she meets Cody, she encounters an exciting world wholly removed from her city life. She especially likes how he treats her like a lady. But she doesn’t need the responsibility for another man who never grew up.

Cody must face his demons, including riding the devil bull, Total Eclipse, in order to win Sandy’s heart. However, this cowboy has a difficult road ahead to convince the city mouse to join him in his country life.

Home At Last by B.A. McIntosh

After four years on her own in foster care and another three searching, Ella Montgomery has finally narrowed the hunt to her little sister’s last known location – Las Vegas. It’s been seven years since she’d last seen Emma, and Ella would do anything it takes to bring her family back together, including moving to Vegas with nothing but a few bucks, a talent for singing and her dreams.

Casino owner Luke McBride’s businesses are wildly successful, yet his personal accomplishments always leave him feeling unsatisfied and empty. Restlessness haunts him until one fateful night a beautiful and mysterious new lounge singer catches his eye.

Luke is determined to get to know the lovely Ella better despite her reticence. His persistence catapults them on a journey that demands they learn to trust each other, or risk heartache.

An Unexpected Knight by Kay Phoenix

Sarah never expected to see Kyle again, let alone to have to work with him.

Kyle became a Knight, not guessing “the one that got away” would be the one he’d rely on each evening.

But, magic can still happen in King Arthur’s arena.

Miss Atomic Bomb 1953 by Elizabeth Spaur

All Lily Genarro wants is a family of her own. If only she wasn’t a pawn in a war between two Chicago Families. Her uncle thinks he’s got a way to save her –make her the next Miss Atomic Bomb. Nobody asked Lily what she wants, so she comes up with a crazy plan to sabotage everybody else’s ideas and do things her way.

Back home from Korea, all Jack McFadden wants is to get back to work on his family’s ranch. He’s too solitary for his mother’s taste. She insists he get off the ranch and back into the world and has just the job to make that happen – escort his little sister when she competes in the Miss Atomic Bomb Pageant.

The last thing Lily and Jack expect to find at this crazy pageant is love. The pageant might be a bomb, but their love is explosive.

Welcome to Sin City!

We’re the Sin City Romance Writers and we welcome you to the wonderful Las Vegas landscape. We hope you love our take on the decades that made Vegas what it is today. We’re a diverse group of authors with many different careers from CPA to lawyer, geologist to graphic artist and even intelligence screening. We have done it all. Each of us have a passion for writing, our families and Las Vegas even though many of us are transplants from other places. We call Vegas home and as everyone knows, home is where the heart is.

While this is our first anthology, it will not be our last. Please connect with us at one of the venues listed below. Learn about us as a group and about us individually. And we promise, what happens in Vegas may just stay here. Or not. Read us and see.

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Kathryn Lively: Cover Reveal – If You Want It
Sunday, March 5th, 2017

I had all these plans. You know what plans are, right? They’re the dreams you want to turn into reality, and before you get started all the drama you never expected comes avalanching on top of you. It’s how my 2017 started, but we actually have to go a bit further back.

I had a nice Christmas, spent with family out of town. It was bittersweet considering it was the first one without my late mother-in-law, but we did our best to stay upbeat. I spent the day afterward relaxing and making my kick-ass 2017 goal list in my journal.

Then I got a call from my boss. Business experienced a downturn, and she decided to close. I got laid off on the day after Christmas. 2016 killed all the cool celebrities and a job I loved.

I spent all of January in a fog, laser-focused on finding work. I took what freelance I could to help us stay afloat in case unemployment didn’t kick in. I basically lost an entire month, and still have little memory beyond tweaking my resume and attending interviews.

During this time, too, I had a book accepted by Decadent Publishing, and now that I have gainful employment I can be happy about it.

A bit rushed, too. It’s time to promo, so here I am to present you with the stunning cover for IF YOU WANT IT. This is my first sports-hero romance, and my second with a BBW heroine. I was inspired by many visits to Central Virginia for the setting, and by small-town romances I’ve enjoyed from Kristan Higgins, Susan Mallery, and Debbie Macomber. I enjoyed being in this world as I wrote, and if you’re looking for a sweet-ish romance with a field goal-worthy kick I hope you’ll give it a try. IF YOU WANT IT comes out later this month, but you can visit my Amazon page at http://www.amazon.com/Kathryn-Lively/e/B004FW06U8/ and receive notification when it’s live.

IF YOU WANT IT

The days when people called Winnie Segal “Sea Cow” are long over. She’s still a big gal, and everybody around her’s gone all PC and “Yay, body acceptance,” but once in a while something dredges up a bad memory. This time, the trigger is Cory Levane, former high school star quarterback and current NFL legend, former high school crush. After a triumphant career he’s come home to show off, so Winnie thinks. She’d rather design and sell her artwork than give a damn, yet the garden in which she grows her damns thrives.

After one month of early retirement, Cory is climbing the walls. He thought coming home would provide cheer and inspire him to plan his future, but people treat him like a celebrity instead of an actual person. He’s happy about one thing, though: Winnie Segal hasn’t changed—she’s still gorgeous and funny as ever, and talented. If he weren’t so damn tongue-tied around her he’d let her know.

The opportunity to work together on a project has Cory anxious to get closer, and leaves Winnie suspicious of his motives. Winnie doesn’t let comments about her weight get to her as much these days, and while Cory never made fun of her in school, he never attempted to start a friendship, either.

Winnie keeps a tight hold on her heart, and Cory knows it will take more than his football skills to get her to pass it to him.

About Kathryn Lively

Things you need to know about me:

I am the author of several novels and stories. Currently I self-publish and have works through Totally Bound and Decadent Publishing.

I have seen every episode of M*A*S*H at least four times. I’ll binge watch it again, make no mistake.

I minored in German in college and continue to learn the language. I aim for fluency but will be happy with a strong reading knowledge.

I knit Doctor Who scarves. I am currently working on a fourth one.

I enjoy reading historical fiction and biographies.

I have seen Rush in concert ten times. Voluntarily.

I am working on my next book. Always.

I enjoy making lists.

You can connect with me on Twitter at @MsKathrynLively and sign up for my newsletter at http://eepurl.com/bq-RML.

Flora Dain: On “The Masseur”
Saturday, March 4th, 2017

A couple of years ago, I was looking forward to the most wonderful summer. At the start of it, my first novel was due out; two months later, my second; and two months after that, my third. A whole trilogy in one year! I was over the moon. One small thing—I also faced an operation. Nothing major but still scary, and guess what? My first ever launch date was the very same day as my op.

Stuff happens.

But the coincidence preyed on my mind. Weird or what? I have to admit it skewed things. Everybody close to me knew about the op, but I kept my launch date quiet, a secret treat for a tricky day.

Luckily all went well, but it set me thinking. Suppose I’d faced something really bad? And it came at around the same time as a life-changing upheaval of some kind, like a break-up or a death in the family?

And supposing I’d once been famous—a musician, maybe, or a sportswoman, and for some reason I faced another, more personal loss at the same time, that I was too ashamed to admit to anybody because of seeming vain—the loss of all that was left of my skills or my talent?

How big a treat would I need then?

If I had a little cash put by, maybe I’d splash out on some serious pampering—a luxury spa with extras. And if a gorgeous hunk on the staff happened to flirt with me, then hang it, for once I’d flirt right back. I’d take everything on offer, no holds barred. I’d be paying, right?

And my hero? Would he be the usual dark, brooding romantic type, twitching with issues and playing hard to catch? Let’s say he’s blond for a change, a calm professional, paid to please, deft and discreet as a skilled waiter or footman. I’m not dumb. I know he’s paid to be nice to me. But hey, I’m doing the paying, so he better be pretty damn good at it. When I splash my cash I make every penny count.  So what he’s a sex object? We all know the score, and for once I’ll let rip and enjoy myself, even if deep down I know that the way I’m treating him makes me and my situation all the more pathetic…

So here comes “The Masseur”, a gentleman and a professional, good at what he does and worth every cent, and my heroine’s extra special treat before she faces something hard in her life. In my story, precisely what she faces is left unsaid—we don’t need to know the detail. We only need to see its effect on her to taste the full sweetness of her final discovery.

I do hope you enjoy it!

Sex Objects

 

From “THE MASSEUR” by Flora Dain appearing in Sex Objects…

Gunder Olsen was tall and blond—well built, well honed and good-looking. When he was around the sun seemed to shine, the ship seemed to steady. He had fair Viking hair that gleamed gold in the sun and blue Viking eyes that darkened to charcoal when he got excited—which wasn’t too often, being on the cool side of Nordic. But when he touched you…

He drew the women like flies. Lily suspected he brought Landales a lot of customers. As a newcomer here she was more than willing to take everything on offer, including all the hidden extras. And if massage came in the form of Viking divinity, so much the better.

“You can turn over now.”

She lingered on his arm as he half lifted, half shifted her onto her back and stood looking down at her, solemn and perfect.

“You’re still very tense. You have a beautiful body.”

Whoa. Did masseurs say that? Her eyes widened. He was smiling as he watched for her response.

“It’s true. You work out?”

“Never.” She wanted to giggle.

“I could put you on a program. Just to tone the muscles here and here.

She moaned as he touched her lower abdomen, running his fingers over her soft skin, making her tingle. He was watching her intently now, Thor brewing the storm.

His voice deepened. “You permit?”

She nodded and held her breath as his hand moved lower, scooping away her modest towel and searching deep into her groin.

“This arouses you?”

“You think?”

He knew it did. They’d performed this ritual every day since she’d got here. First her arms and hands, then her legs, back and breasts, and now her pussy. It was like he knew how much she wanted it, how much she needed his magic touch to grant her release.

To start with she’d been embarrassed. He’d leaned over her and explained in his rich dark voice and his light foreign accent that she needed to relax and he could smell her, he knew she was aroused. It was nothing to be ashamed of and in his professional opinion she needed relief badly.

She still blushed at the memory.

Now he paused, his fingers already inside her, his eyes dark as graphite. She felt a trickle of juice down the inside of one thigh.

“Is this okay?”

Should she let him do this? Was it allowed? Did it cost extra? She held his gaze, his eyes dark as night now. Was he aroused too?

“It’s wonderful. But—” She broke off, a little pink. She’d thought about this.

His lips flexed like she’d said something funny. “But—what?”

“Only if you want to.”

He grinned. “Know what? That’s the best offer I’ve had all day. Lie still, Lily. Part your legs for me.”

She closed her eyes. She was close already and getting closer, her climax building under his expert touch. She was about to burst into bloom like a cactus in the desert…. With a sob she arched under his hand and gave herself up to his fingers and their glorious gift of release…. “Yes.” She shrieked out loud at the intensity of it and lay entranced, buffeted by its aftershocks, letting rapture lap over her in waves of heat that ebbed away leaving her glowing and content.

She opened her eyes and felt a tear trickle into her hair. “Forgive me, I’m so sorry. It’s just—it’s been so long….”

“Hey. Don’t apologize.” In seconds he’d hoisted her upright and put his arm round her. He folded his other hand around her breast and squeezed gently. It was startling, hot and yet somehow comforting. He laid his cheek against hers and she caught a whiff of his cologne, citrus mingled with something darker, feral.

“I know. I can tell. Don’t cry. If it feels good we do it, okay? If it makes you relax we do it. Whatever it takes. That’s why you’re here.”

She nestled against him, relishing his embrace. Their hour was almost over. Soon another woman would be lying here, moaning for more under his magic touch…. Lily suppressed the thought. Who was she to argue when a Viking god ordered her to come? Why spit in the wind?

* * * * *

Curious for more? Then do read the rest of my story in Sex Objects: Erotic Romance for Women, Delilah’s brilliant new story collection for Cleis Press.

If you enjoyed this, you might like to try some of my other books.

The Wolfe Trilogy is an intriguing mix of thriller, ménage and light BDSM. A  teacher-cum-poet forms an intense but tricky relationship with a wealthy, handcuff-fixated CEO whose business is being challenged by her ex.

Suiting Saffina is a trilogy set in Regency times. A willful heiress meets her match when her rakish guardian returns from abroad to take her in hand and find her a suitor. His tastes and his methods are strict and unusual, but her choice of lovers defies all his plans.

Kinky Week, my latest novel, is a light BDSM ménage comedy. A ditzy young sub, eager to please her strict older partner, risks harming his distinguished legal career.

* Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/Flora-Dain-720798664632939
* Good Reads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6950358.Flora_Dain
* Amazon author page: https://www.amazon.co.uk/Flora-Dain/e/B01N9AB0HY
* Twitter: @Flora Dain
Email: floradain@aol.com

Lynn Cahoon: Ski Trip, anyone?
Friday, March 3rd, 2017

As a newly divorced woman, I wanted to do something just for me. So that winter, I rented cross country skis and drove the thirty minutes to Bogus Basin, a small ski resort near my home town. I felt reckless. I worried about my car breaking down on the snowy two lane road. I worried about falling and hurting myself. Who would take care of my son? How would I pay my bills without the income I brought in from my second job waitressing? Why was I even spending my only free Saturday morning doing this stupid thing?

Then I pulled the car over in the cross-country parking lot and stepped out into another world. The air felt cold and clear on my face. I bought my day pass, strapped on my skis, and headed down the trail. All of a sudden, my worries disappeared and all I could think of was the routine of my workout. Left, right, left, right. The pace was slow, but steady and as I wound my way around the mountain, I realized that my new life could be like this exercise. One step at a time. Sometimes, I got to slide down a small hill taking advantage of the ease, then I had to climb another one to repeat the process.

I realized my skiing was a metaphor for life. Sometimes it’s easy, maybe goes a little too fast, and sometimes you have to work for what you get. I loved those mornings when I was able to get away from the day to day of my busy life and experience some joy.

So when I was writing the second book in the Cat Latimer series, I wanted a way for Cat’s retreat guests to learn more about each other as well as find the zen I had found that morning on the ski hill. Of course, fiction never quite turns out the same as the reality it mirrors, so the guests found more comfort and relaxation in the ski lodge bar instead of on the slopes. And that’s a whole ‘nother story.

Have you ever tried something new, just for you?

Fatality by Firelight

 

Cat Latimer’s Colorado bed-and-breakfast plays host to writers from all over. But murder is distinctly unwelcome . . .

To kick off a winter writing retreat, Cat and her handyman boyfriend, Seth, escort the aspiring authors to a nearby ski resort, hoping some fresh cold air will wake up their creative muses. But instead of hitting the slopes, they hit the bar—and before long, a tipsy romance novelist named Christina is keeping herself warm with a local ski bum who might have neglected to tell her about his upcoming wedding.

Next thing Cat knows, her uncle, the town sheriff, informs her that the young man’s been found dead in a hot tub—and Christina shows up crying and covered in blood. Now, between a murder mystery, the theft of a rare Hemingway edition, and the arrival of a black-clad stranger in snowy Aspen Hills, Cat’s afraid everything’s going downhill . . .

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Excerpt

The world outside still clung to the previous night, the shadows not quite releasing their hold to the breaking light over the mountain ridge outside Aspen Hills, Colorado. With the first rays of morning, the fresh snow glistened and covered the lawn all around 700 Warm Springs.

Cat Latimer, owner of the Warm Springs Writer’s Retreat, housed in the old Victorian, sat at the kitchen table drinking a mix of hot chocolate and coffee. With a dab of freshly whipped cream, Cat thought Shauna’s winter concoction was just about the most perfect drink ever invented. Her friend, Shauna Mary Clodah, had taken over the role of cook, planner, and manager for the writing retreats. Shauna was a petite, pretty, Irish redhead that cooked like an angel. The small group sitting around the table was drinking the “virgin” version of her mixture. Later, the retreat guests would have the option of adding a shot of Bailey’s Irish Cream or Kahlúa to their cups, an invitation to the muse.

Right now, her guests were tucked in their beds, sleeping. Which was where she wanted to be instead of sitting here in the kitchen. But then she took in the smell of coffee and chocolate mixed together and she sighed in delight.

“I can’t believe you’re taking the group up the mountain. I thought this was supposed to be about writing. They aren’t going to get many words written by spending the day skiing.” Uncle Pete had become a regular at the breakfast table, both when the retreat was in session and when it was just Cat and Shauna milling around the empty house. Her uncle was Aspen Hills’ police chief and Cat’s closest relative.

“It’s part of the Colorado experience.” Cat explained, thinking about her own manuscript sitting on her computer waiting for her to make time to write. The phrase making time to write was a joke. She either wrote or didn’t, and today her word-count chart would show a big fat zero, unless she had the mental energy when they returned from skiing. During the first retreat, she’d managed to get a few pages written—before one of her guests wound up dead in his room. This retreat she’d promised herself that she’d focus on her own work, even when they had guests. Shauna was in charge of the day-to-day activities when the retreat was in session. Cat’s job was to be the resident writer and set a good example as a professional writer. A job that sometimes was harder than other days, especially if she got drawn into a Facebook rotating loop of cute kittens or the occasional photos of hot guys—or worse, one simple question that grew into a research project on the entire history of the Salem Witch trials.

Today was about building relationships and having experiences. Writers needed both.

About the Author

Lynn Cahoon is the author of the NYT and USA Today best-selling Tourist Trap cozy mystery series. Guidebook to Murder, book 1 of the series won the Reader’s Crown for Mystery Fiction in 2015. She’s also pens the recently released, Cat Latimer series. A STORY TO KILL, book 1, came out in mass market paperback September 2016.She lives in a small town like the ones she loves to write about with her husband and two fur babies. Sign up for her newsletter at www.lynncahoon.com

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