Today, I’ll be flying back to Arkansas. Romanticon is over. I had a great time hanging out with my sister, daughter and friends. But I’m ready to be home.

Yesterday was more restful than I expected. For whatever reason, the powers that be didn’t think I’d be there for the big booksigning event, so there wasn’t a place for me. That’s the third time this has happened to me this year. I can’t figure out where I earned that kind of karma, but a couple of you will benefit from my bad luck. I went up and down the line of authors there—and I think there were around 60 of them—to get signatures on cover flats and the conference book bag. I have tons of things to fill two bags actually. I’ll give the first one the day after tomorrow—keep posting!!

I also picked up some interesting jewelry for giveaways. So stay tuned. In the meantime, I have one more little excerpt. A nasty one, since I don’t think you’ll believe me that it’s sexy. 😉 If you’re not over 18, don’t read another word! Our hero and heroine are still in the brothel, being forced into “entertaining” the guests.

The whore-mistress stepped between them, her face red and her eyes glittering. “Finish it.” She dug a finger under his chin to lift his glance. “You really don’t have a choice.”

Shaking now with fury, he ground out, “I am not an animal.”

“Don’t pretend you’re anything but what you are. A barbarian. The women you will serve want nothing less than every bit of your strength.”

“Do they wish to be raped?”

She gave a feminine snort. “It’s not rape. They want to be overcome. To be forced, yes. But they surrender to your mastery of their own free will. Do not disappoint us. There are far worse things that can befall you if you’re stubborn.”

Her gaze whipped to Fatin. “You wish an agreement. I won’t even consider it unless you prove the men you brought me are every bit as feral and savage as you promised.”
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Don’t forget to comment for a chance to win a grab bag of prizes from Romanticon!

Romanticon has been a blast—especially seeing all the little dramas and debaucheries through my daughter’s eyes. Sis was her dance partner, which saved my feet—thanks, Myla! Today’s the booksigning. I hope to see some of you there. You don’t have to buy a book to say hello!

Here’s another excerpt from Enslaved by a Viking. Forgive Eirik for being a little rough when he first gets his hands on Fatin. A man’s dignity can only stand so much. Click on the cover to order it now! Oh, and I changed the countdown number. I really don’t know what day it is. 🙂

“Have you ever seen the like, Calliope?”

The awe-filled tone of the woman beside her made Fatin pause.

“I must have the dark one. Did you see him at the auction? His cock is twice the size of my husband’s.”

The women giggled and moved away, seeking a word with Aliyah while they pointed toward the dark one, Eirik.

Fatin didn’t want to care that the man they bargained to have had been the one she’d been most reluctant to steal.

From the first moment she’d heard his name spoken by the mining camp supervisor on New Iceland, she’d fixed her sights on the Ulfhednar heir, even knowing that kidnapping one of the ruling class was a capital offense. The temptation had been too great. A chance to exploit his plight and the unsavory practice of sexual slavery was more than she’d hoped for.

Why had he kept his identity a secret for so long? Did he fear he’d be killed the moment he did expose the crime? The excuse was plausible. Still, she didn’t think much frightened the man who’d surprised and enthralled her at every turn. Perhaps he hoped to escape and avoid the humiliation of having been bested by a woman, a situation made all the worse by his gentle treatment of her.

She’d posed as a contracted sex-thrall at the remote mining camp. As soon as he’d entered the small, curtained sleep chamber she’d been assigned to await his pleasure, he’d been eager to take her. Moments after yanking closed the curtain, he’d slid away the blanket she’d used to hide her naked form. As any man presented with a whore for his use, he’d begun without any thought except for his own pleasure.

However, once he’d plunged inside her, and she’d gasped, shocked by the fierceness of his invasion and the size of his sex, he’d gentled his assault, taking the time and care to pull her into an arousal so strong, she’d felt a moment’s regret about causing him harm.

“What is your name?” he’d murmured against her lips as she’d straddled him while he sat at the edge of his sleeping bench.

“Fatin,” she’d whispered, meeting his gaze, liking the heat banked in his blue eyes.

His chest had expanded, pressing against her swollen nipples. “You please me,” he’d said, in his deep, rumbling baritone.

She’d felt a twinge of conscience, knowing what she would do.
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OMGah!—yes, I’m channeling Jessica Simpson—I have Internet! And it’s fast! It’s only because EVERYONE’s downstairs dancing with the Cavemen. Yeah, it’s actually Friday night right now, but since I had connection, for once, I’m not wasting it.

I’m having a wonderful time. My daughter’s downstairs, pretty, and you know the guys are enjoying that—I don’t expect to see her until much later. My sister’s probably right up there on the dance floor with her, grinding on a Caveman. However, I shall remain virtuous. I have work to do. 🙁 Copyedits are due for Five Ways to Sunday.

I’m here with another excerpt, trying to whet your appetite for the book coming October 4th. One click on the cover will take you to Amazon.com where you can purchase your copy while it’s still being offered at a reduced price. And yes, it’s print and full length, and the sexiest thing you’re gonna read this Fall.

It was a long-standing joke among Ulfhednar warriors that when they perished on a battlefield, they would tell the Valkyries who came to deliver them to Odin’s hall that they’d prefer the fiery underworld of Muspellheim. For Icelanders had lived so long on their frozen world that searing heat seemed a more fitting paradise.

However, Eirik Ulfhednar knew the truth. The realm of fire wasn’t a mythical land. Due to one fateful error, he’d landed there, and the sultry heat of this godless place wasn’t anything to be envied.

Despite the fans circling high above the garishly appointed salon, the temperature of the room where he stood was sweltering, the air stifling and thick in his lungs. Sweat gathered on his forehead and glazed his bare chest.

For the first time, he was thankful for the inadequate and embarrassing clothing he’d been given. The linen garment draping his hips allowed air to cool his nether regions.

However, the fabric was so thin he might as well have stood naked before those gathered to examine the new arrivals—or “offerings,” as the whore-mistress called them. A term that somehow made him and the men standing in a straight rank behind him seem less human, more like a feast spread out on a banquet table to be devoured. A feast of twenty rugged Icelanders—all with their long hair slicked back in queues behind their heads, their muscular bodies oiled and perfumed like women, and wearing the same transparent swath of fabric about their hips and silver cuffs around their wrists that proclaimed them the lowest order of slaves—sex-thralls.

Every trace of their proud heritage had been erased except for their large, rugged builds—the very qualities that had precipitated their capture and enslavement.

“I count only two guards inside this room,” Hakon murmured beside him, lifting his chin to point toward the tall wooden doors at the entrance of to the salon.

Called Hakon the Bold on their former world, Eirik’s new comrade was just another of the captives being paraded to satisfy the lusty appetites of the Heliopolite elite. All female, thank the stars.

Eirik gave an equally subtle nod toward the windows overlooking the landscaped grounds. Lush green grass, oases of tall flowers and leafy trees, couldn’t hide the armed guards patrolling openly around the facility’s perimeter. “I’ve counted six soldiers so far. Armed with stunners. We haven’t shields to protect us should we try to make a break. They could take us all.”

Hakon grunted. “But we have hostages. Or are you too squeamish to harm women?”

Eirik gave him a narrowed glare. “I wouldn’t hesitate, not for a second, to do what I must to secure our freedom.”

His companion’s casual shrug belied his sharp scrutiny. “I thought I should ask, given how eagerly your body reacts to the vicious bitch that brought us here.”

Not accustomed to having his motives questioned, Eirik bristled. “If I grow hard in Fatin’s presence,” he bit out, “it’s because I envision all the ways I will make her suffer.”

Hakon chuckled. Suspicion cleared from his face. “Good to know you will not shed a tear over her death.”

However, as furious as Eirik was with the woman they discussed, the thought of standing over her lifeless body gave him a moment’s pause. His chest tightened uncomfortably.
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I’m in Akron, sitting in the business office of the hotel because the promised Wi-Fi connection doesn’t work. I missed blogging yesterday due to travel. By the time we all (sis and daughter) arrived here, I was too tired to care.

Anyway, I’m here at Romanticon, hangin’ with the supermodels, seeing old friends (writers and readers), and enjoying watching my daughter’s reactions to everything around us. She’s heard me talking about conferences for years, but this is the one she’s breaking her cherry on. 🙂

To celebrate the release of my latest “Vikings in Space” story, I’m going to give you juicy excerpts for the next few days. Comment and you’ll be eligible for a fun grab bag of swag from Romanticon! I’ve already been gathering trading cards, pens, bookmarks, and assorted “stuff”. I hope to get some autographed books along the way too!

His suffering…

Though proud and strong, Eirik, heir to the Ulfhednars kingdom, found himself seduced and taken from his homeworld by a bounty-hunting vixen, who sold him into slavery. Purchased by a wealthy, Consortium-backed brothel, he is kept at a heavily guarded and secure breeding facility, where he is forced to feed the lustful whims of Helios’s elite at night. He bides his time, waiting for a chance to escape and get his revenge on the woman who betrayed him…

Her satisfaction…

Once a sex thrall, Fatin earned her freedom through service. Now, as a bounty hunter, she is determined to earn enough to buy her sister’s papers from the same brothel she escaped. For this, she abducts a brutishly handsome, breed-worthy specimen from the Viking planet and delivers him to auction. But her desire for justice and his desire for freedom may consume both of them in a passion neither wanted—or can resist.

Eirik tried not to breathe too deeply. The rotten, sour smells of his dark, dank prison already made his skin stink. He didn’t want the awful stench inside his lungs or belly.

He hadn’t seen the other prisoners, not after they’d been herded like cattle through a chute once the hatch had been opened at the side of the ship and his keepers applied prods to their backsides to move them out in single file.

With only brief impressions of his new home, of searing heat and blinding, harsh sunlight, he’d shielded his arm over his eyes and stumbled down the gangway, through the iron-barred alley that disallowed any thoughts of escape.

He’d been led to this cell, deep inside an enormous stone building. A brief glimpse of an open arena, and then he’d been shoved down two flights of narrow stone steps.

Once they’d slammed the solid door and slid the eye-level window closed, he’d been left alone, no sounds penetrating his prison other than the hum of the light above him, and the sounds his own body made.

His thoughts drowned it all out, screaming inside him. He’d wanted to beat his fists against the door, rail at his captors, but he didn’t know if anyone watched him, and wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of knowing how close to abject despair he was coming.

Hel, he’d even suffer Fatin’s derision, her cold, calculating touch, just to feel or hear another human being.
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One quick note! Tonight at 8 PM CST,
I’ll be chatting live at Righteous Perverts!

Yes, another new release! I’ve barely had room to breathe this month so much is happening. Bitten in the Big Easy is a two-book anthology, with stories from Paisley Smith and myself. Yes, they’re lesbian romances, but even if that’s not your usual kind of read, you’ll be caught up in the drama. The sex is hot, but the stories are every bit as thrilling. The world our sisters Cissy and Elena live in is dark and filled with enemies. You won’t want to miss the first installment in the Femme Noir series!

Here’s an excerpt…but don’t read any further if you’re not 18 or older!

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Elena could only watch, shivering in terror. Those words reverberated in her mind.

First, I wish to play…

How many times had that phrase played inside her dreams as she’d relived the horror of her incarceration in Erzsébet’s palace? Most days she slept nude, atop the covers, because even a hint of restraint sent her deep into her nightmare. How did this woman, this human, know her weakness?

Think, think. You aren’t an animal. You are only at her mercy if you allow it.

How many times had she reassured herself with the same lie? And yet, she forced her breathing to slow, her heart to still. Whatever potion Cassia had used to paralyze her had worn off. Only a haze at the periphery of her vision remained, causing her sight to narrow to a tunnel. Would Cassia drug her again if she knew she’d recovered? If she banged against her cage, could she free herself in time?

Best to wait. What had she meant, there will only be one night? Did Cassia intend to kill her?

Not that Elena was afraid to die. She’d considered committing another terrible sin a few times during her long life. But the thought of dying now, not by her choice or hand, enraged her.

Some of her thoughts must have shown in her eyes.

Cassia stepped closer, slipping her hands between the flat iron slats to bracket Elena’s cheeks with her palms. She pressed so close her warm breaths gusted softly against Elena’s skin. As Elena drew in the hot, humid scent, her pussy grew engorged and her teeth sank into the hard rubber ball.

“Surrender to me, my beauty. There’s no need to fight. You want this. You want me.” Cassia came closer still, her lush mouth parting. The kisses she pressed on Elena’s face between the bars were soft and wet. Her tongue darted out to lick the sweat beading on her brow.

Anger and desire mixed with regret that the other woman’s tenderness was only a ploy. Tears pricked the backs of Elena’s eyes, but she refused to let them well. She blinked furiously, glaring all the while even though her body was beginning to melt.

How truly twisted am I? Sure, she feared the confinement but she was aware of the structure of the cage, of the opening behind her bottom. Memories of the horrific pleasures she’d enjoyed so long ago swam inside her mind while Cassia cupped her face like a child’s to reassure her.
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Pssst! The grab bag contest winner is named at the bottom of this post!

First off, have I told you all how incredibly awesome you all are? I need help with titles—you deliver dozens of ideas! I need help with menage ideas—you little perverts come up with some completely rockin’ ideas! 🙂

Anyway, I thought I’d give you a heads up. Tomorrow, Bitten in the Big Easy, a two author anthology with two hawt as hell stories releases from Ellora’s Cave! It will be the first book in the Femme Noir series, which will include vampires, witches, ghosts and demons. Read on for a glimpse inside…

Bitten in the Big Easy

“Butterfly” by Paisley Smith

Vampire Narcissa Csintalan is in a New Orleans bar, waiting on her tardy sister Elena, when she develops a raging fang-on for the bar’s sinfully sexy, butch bass player. The bite marks on the songbird’s neck put her at the top of Cissy’s must-feed list.

Butterfly Baudelaire has sworn off strays, but the blonde coming on to her has a killer pair of fangs and looks like she knows how to use ’em. Butterfly’s not banking on the bite Cissy takes out of her heart—or the fact more than her well-spanked bottom is in danger from her vampire lover.

“Gilded Cage” by Delilah Devlin

Since her turning, Elena Csintalan has wrestled her inner demon on a nightly basis. She never expects her limits to be tested—until she finds herself drawn to a tawny woman whose lush curves make her eyeteeth spike. Before she knows it, she’s dangling inside an iron cage, one that’s frighteningly familiar. And the punishment she endures is oh so divine…

Despite a surprising empathy she feels for the vampire she’s captured, Cassia proceeds with her coven’s plan—drain Elena of her blood at the height of orgasm to complete a potion that will protect them from Elena’s maker. Cassia scried the darkness coming their way, and the monster has a name…the Countess Elizabeth Bathory.

Elena approached Jean Lafitte’s Old Absinthe House from Bienville Street, skirting the sidewalk, striding in long steps, enjoying the cloying heat, the mingled scents of life and decay, sniffing delicately when she passed a sewer grate but not minding the odors all that much. Tonight, little would spoil her mood.

The tavern looked good for its age—although not as good as Elena. Not a single wrinkle marred her face. Not that she was mindful of her beauty. She only recognized it as fact, having come slowly to acceptance, acknowledging her beauty not as a gift or a curse.

She dressed simply. Straight-legged blue jeans, a black tank and black military boots. A black-banded watch sat on her left wrist. Her hair was pulled tightly into a ponytail at the back of her head. Her only concessions to her femininity were the large white-gold hoops she wore in her ears, and only because she liked the way they bumped against her cheeks.

Still, as severe as she’d dressed, Elena drew attention. She had a model’s long, lithe frame and moved as fluidly as a cat. Again, facts she was aware of but not duly self-impressed.

She’d reached the point in her long life where little mattered. Not friendships, because they were fleeting. Not money, because it could be gone in a single day, as she’d known now twice in her lifetime. Little interested her. She’d seen most of the world. Done everything. Her primary constant was the hunger that drove her even now, when she was wishing she could ignore it just a while longer.

The other constant was her sister. And she was meeting her tonight for the first time in ten years.

Her stomach growled loudly and Elena growled right back, alarming a musician carrying a guitar case so much so that he stepped onto the street to make a wide arc around her.
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Whatever you need to know about the book before you buy it is just a click of the cover away. Read the blurb, read and exceprt. And when you’re ready to buy, here are a couple of links:

Buy at Samhain
Buy at Amazon

There are a couple of things you can do that I would sincerely appreciate:
1) If you read it, offer a review of the story, on Amazon and/or Samhain’s site, so that the next person who clicks on the book page will know what you thought. People really do read those!
2) Head to the Amazon page and “tag” it. When someone types in “cowboy” and “menage”, you will help them find my book!

Now, I get to sit back and wait to see what you thought. I really hope I hit your sweet spot. 🙂

The winner of the Bored Fairy and a Book contest is…Monique Ito! Monique, contact me regarding delivery of your prizes!