The winner of the download, by random number generator is, Charlene!
Charlene, congrats and be sure to email me to arrange delivery of your story!

* * * * *

Have to be quick! My satellite’s been mostly out last night and this morning due to storm activity. No, we haven’t seen a twister, but there’s cloud cover and we just had a hellacious thunderstorm. So no time to chat!

Enjoy the excerpt, then follow the links to the other Snippeteers’ websites for more!

If you post a comment today, you’ll be entered to win
a free download of this short story!

A little peek deserves a little punishment…

Afraid to spoil their friendship, Emily is reluctant to act on her attraction to the two sexy men next door. However, when she’s caught spying on them, the men decide a little punishment is in order…

Beads of condensation, glittering jewel-like in the sputtering candlelight, ran in rivulets down the sides of Jason’s ice-cold beer.

Detail I shouldn’t have been able to note, given the fact I was thirty feet away.

As I lowered my nephew’s toy binoculars, I reflected that I had indeed sunk to a new low. You see, my bedroom window conveniently overlooked Jason and Robert’s backyard. A fact that probably never registered with the previous tenants, but one that proved too delicious to ignore after the arrival of the handsome duo. Privacy fencing, which ran down to the pier that jutted into the lake, separated the row of houses where we lived. It was high enough the neighbors on either side of ours couldn’t see into their yard, but lucky me—I had the perfect view.

Upon discovering this, I had began a furtive surveillance. One that had me cringing in embarrassment each time I greeted them in passing and feeling even more ashamed when we struck up a friendship.

We’d shared meals, drinks, late afternoon swims, watched football games together on their wide-screen TV. And still, I peeked into their backyard, waiting for those moments when they popped outside to mow the lawn or catch a few summer rays. Their bodies gleamed with sweat while raw lust warred inside me, along with the fear that I’d mess up our relationship if I let the guys know how I really felt.

My convenient perch on the windowsill afforded me a window into their private lives, and from the very beginning, I was hooked. They’d become an obsession, one frustrated by the fact they treated me like a kid sister, rather than a woman one of them might desire.

And therein lay another problem. I’d resisted the urge to seek a deeper relationship because then I’d have to choose. My libido was completely fickle, lusting after Jason’s muscled physique, then sighing over the possibilities of what Robert’s tall, bony frame and large feet hinted at. That their personalities were perfect bookends, fierce and funny, confused my heart as well.

Lucky, lucky me. I licked the sweat gathering on my upper lip while this night one of the handsome men living next door tilted his bottle and took several long sips. The look of pure bliss that softened his otherwise stern features made my chest ache.

I watched the movement of Jason’s throat as he worked it down, imagining him sipping at my overheated flesh. My skin began to tingle. My nipples beaded, crowding uncomfortably against my lace bra. My thighs clenched as a delicious wash of arousal seeped to wet the crotch of my plain panties.

The sigh he emitted as he set the bottle on the table was echoed by my own painful groan. Watching either of them had never caused my heart to skip a beat like that hint of a moan sliding on the tail of Jason’s long exhalation.

Sure, it was hotter than hell out there. I too felt the effects of the enervating heat. Record temperatures had strained the region’s resources and planned service interruptions began that night. But something about that sigh felt…un-subtle, exaggerated, maybe even dramatic. And Jason was too straightforward a man for that.

I blotted sweat from my forehead, asking myself again, What am I doing?

Only this time, my peeping hadn’t been deliberate. I’d rushed home from work and showered quickly to beat the scheduled brown-out. Then I’d stripped to my underwear, pulled back the curtains, and opened the window, hoping for a breeze to cool my skin. Sitting limply on the sill, I waited for the world to flicker into life again.

That’s when I’d noticed him, sitting in a lounge chair alone in the dark.

He wore his usual work “uniform”—khaki trousers, white shirt and a tie. Tonight, the tie hung loosened and askew, his collar opened beneath it.

Despite the lack of electricity, I could see it all. Moonlight silvered his dark hair and reflected bright as a beacon against the white shirt. The golden light from the large Citronella candle leant warmth to his skin and the amber bottle he held between his hands.

As always, he was lovely to watch, but tonight, his expression drew my attention more than his breath-stealing features. A sullen slanting of his brows, a bit of pout plumping his masculine lips, an edgy energy to his slight movements—he was either irritated or aroused.

Wanting an answer to the “either-or,” I watched. My forte is observation; my people-radar exquisitely tuned to body language and a voice’s tonal cues. My curiosity and my lust were caught. No way could I back away from my window now.

The bottle tapped the table as he set it aside. A long-fingered hand tugged the knot of his tie, dragging it from his neck.

When he began to undo the row of buttons down the front of his shirt, I settled deeper on the sill, leaning closer, but taking care to keep my pale body hidden behind the sheer curtain.

The edges of the shirt parted over a broad, nicely muscled chest. My gaze zeroed in on taut lean abs dusted with dense fur the same color as his close-cropped black hair that stretched nipple to nipple then ran along a thin dark line to slip beneath his zipper.

His hand stroked his chest, scratching through the hair, the faint crinkling sound causing my own chest to tighten, my nipples to surge.

A light sheen of sweat glimmered on his chest and belly. Again, my tongue swept my lips, tasting salt, and I imagined I lapped the dew right off his skin.

When a lazily roaming hand slid over his belly, I tensed, fascinated as he swept the flat plane. Would he be hard or desk-soft? His stomach looked firm. So, I enjoyed fantasizing that he was and touched my own stomach, following his path.

His hand slid down to the knot bulging behind his fly, and he cupped it. Squeezed.

My own hands itched to replace his and grew still, clenching against the fantasy of holding his burgeoning cock as it roused. My cheeks heated and my breaths shortened. No need to tease my own body into arousal, moisture already soaked my panties.

The buckle clanked open, and the belt slid sinuously from the loops as he lifted his hips and pulled it free. A flick of his thumb and the button at the waistband of his trousers opened. His zipper rasped as it slid down.

Dark fabric formed a vee-like shadow as his hand rooted beneath his waist, and then he slipped the long, gleaming column of his semi-aroused sex from the flap at the front of his boxers and wrapped his fingers around it.

I swallowed the liquid pooling in my mouth. I blinked to moisten eyes that had grown dry and scratchy as I stared, wide-eyed. My breaths grew ragged, a little choked, and I must have made a noise, because suddenly his head swung my way.

His gaze narrowed on my bedroom window.

Holding my breath, I froze, hoping his gaze couldn’t penetrate the darkness.

But a crooked smile slowly stretched his lips, and his hand tightened around himself and began to pump up and down the thickening rod. All the while, he stared at me.

Jason knew I watched but didn’t seem to mind. I let out a deep, trembling breath and continued to stare, my own body heating, growing increasingly aroused in tandem with his hardening cock.

His head turned away, and his hand dropped from his engorged cock. It fell against his belly with a soft, muffled thud. Heavy, hot, thick—I knew its girth would stretch my mouth.

Another sound intruded. The chime of my doorbell. I bit back a curse and drew away from the window, slung on my robe, then headed downstairs to the front door.

Robert stood on the stoop, a lazy grin on his face, a sweep of lank blonde hair covering one eye and two beers dangling from his fingers. He was shirtless. Low-riding, blue knee-length shorts encased slender hips and revealed long legs. His large feet were bare. “Thought you might like to join us.”

“Us?” A pinch grabbed my belly and I repeated stupidly, dragging my glance upward again to lock with his.

“Jason and I?” His head tilted, and his pale blue eyes studied me.

Did he know what Jason was up to? He hadn’t been in the back yard. Maybe he didn’t know and the invitation was issued without a carnal subtext.

Not like I hadn’t enjoyed a beer or dinner at their place before, but those times had always been a “friend thing.”

“Are you okay? You look a little flushed.” The teasing glint in his eyes, and more, the narrowed focus of his stare, told me he knew exactly what I’d seen. His gaze slid beyond my shoulder into my darkened living room. “Keep us company until the lights come on?”

Modern Love….

Now here’s a topic that will certainly get you a wide array of answers, and the remarkable thing is – every one of them will be “correct” to the view that expresses it. We all see romantic in a different way, and what is highly romantic for one person is a total turn off for someone else. Erotica is for many an expression of romantic thought, for others it’s a variation on pornography.

What defines the word/concept that is romance? I have my view, and I’ve stated it often. What is your definition? What is romantic in your mind? Is it the explicit sexuality of erotica? Or the gentle awakening of sweet love and passion? I think we all carry the two aspects within us, and depending on what situation we’re in, one is always more appropriate than the other would be.

In romantic fiction, the barriers have long ago been crossed and forgotten. We’re in an “anything goes” sort of atmosphere, and in truth if you look at the vast array of publishers who are now publishing the minted genre “erotic romance” you can see the diversity of definition. I don’t think a lot of what is being labeled in that genre is either erotic or romantic, but that’s my personal mindset and I accept it as such.

I grew up reading Harlequin’s Presents imprint–in fact my first “grown-up” book purchased was a title from the relatively new imprint called “Moon Witch” by Anne Mather. It made me a lifelong fan of her work. I still remember the 34-year-old hero, and it’s been a few years! The line has changed with the times and it’s still their most popular imprint. A few years after I discovered these books, I began buying the racier ones, and they were fabulous, too. (And, yes, I remember my first title in that line, too!) I always come back home to Presents, because for me, the type of stories are the definitive romance stories. Larger than life heroes, the Alpha-male as they’ve since labeled him, exotic settings–in my case, I can’t get enough stories set in Italy–and scorching, tension laden awakening to burning and enduring passion. For me, that’s romance!

So, what are your favourites and what is it that sets them apart in your mind as the definition of romance? Do you prefer detailed sexuality, or the sensual middle-ground, or even behind closed doors love scenes? I’m curious, and would like your thoughts?

Ironically, I’m one of those authors who actively avoids the sex scenes in my books until I absolutely have to deal with them, so how in hell did I end up writing three ménage stories back to back? Believe me, no one is more surprised than I am by this strange turn of events. All three of these books are currently in the top ten best-sellers for the publisher who contracted them, too. Apart from the trio of lovers in these stories, when I wrote Stolen Rapture, I discovered one of my vampires was a dominant, and my heroine was waking to her submissive nature, so that was another new element for me.

I can’t really say that I’m wildly enamored of this kind of story, but it’s certainly been fun to touch the genre, and I might very well get back to it, if in small ways, for future stories. I like mixing genres as most of my readers know, so taking ménage, as requested by the publisher for their anniversary print release, then adding in a paranormal element with my sexy vampires–it was, I admit, a lot of fun! I hope you’ll enjoy this peek at Stolen Rapture… I’ve already been asked to create a story for the secondary male of the trio, and he’s speaking loudly at the moment, so I may not be able to ignore him for much longer!

We’ll do the usual, and I’ll offer one of our visitors today a free eBook of any title on my site, as well as a surprise that I’ll post to you! So, let’s hear your thoughts?

STOLEN RAPTURE

Publisher: http://bit.ly/XpxQeh
Bookstrand: http://www.bookstrand.com/stolen-rapture
ARe: http://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-stolenrapture-638196-139.html

When work brings Deluna Jordan face to face with a man who knows her better than she knows herself, she soon discovers he shares everything with his boss, including lovers…and a thirst for blood…and she is about to become the lucky recipient of all their desires…

Rahve knew the instant Cord and his playmate arrived. He turned and even with a room between them, he could smell sex. He snorted silently. So Cord had fucked her already tonight. That explained the limousine service. His eyes swept over the woman, cataloging the elegant dress, the voluptuous curves that were just a little too rounded for current fashion, and the sparkling hazel eyes that were still a little dazed from orgasm.

He went to join them.

“Nice of you to show up,” he said to Cord.

“Screw you,” Cord snapped, then laughed. “This,” he turned to the woman at his side, “is Deluna Jordan. Baby, this is my partner—”

“Boss.”

“Partner,” he repeated, ignoring Rahve’s correction, “Rahve Falcon.”

“It’s lovely to meet you, Mr. Falcon,” Deluna said, offering her hand. He took it and brought her fingers to his lips, kissing the backs of them very softly. She stared in surprise.

“Rahve,” he requested. “Cord’s told me a lot about you. It’s nice to put a face to the name. Welcome to my home, and thank you for coming to the party.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Cord hasn’t told me a lot about you,” she replied.

“I’m not surprised,” Rahve answered. Falcon was genuinely amused. Cord watched him with thinly veiled suspicion. “Would you like a drink?”

“Thank you, that would be lovely.”

Rahve was being summoned from the other side of the room and his dark eyes flickered with annoyance that was easily read. He excused himself and on his way to the agitated woman waving less than discreetly to him, he stopped and directed one of the waiters to bring her a glass of champagne.

“Be careful around him,” Cord advised. “He’s interested in you.”

She stared at him, eyebrow raised. “You can tell that from hello, can you?”

“I’ve known Rahve a lot of years, baby,” he said, tone ominous. “He enjoys dangerous games.”

“And you don’t?” There was ice in her voice, making the words caustic in tone.

Cord’s blue and green gaze was hard when he met hers, and she shivered.

“You like my games,” he stated. “Rahve plays by different rules.”

She shrugged with false indifference and strolled into the crowd, fully aware of Cord’s eyes watching every move she made. The night was going to be a long one. The thought had barely passed into her awareness when she felt someone staring at her, the look almost a tangible touch that brushed her spine and made her entire body tingle.

There are things Cord should have told you. Rahve’s voice was inside her head somehow and she looked around, trying to locate him in the large crowd. Chills that had nothing to do with the actual temperature make her quiver. She closed her eyes, her equilibrium gone as the room faded to grey shadows. Her last thought was that she’d never fainted in her life, and this was not the time to start.

Denysé
“Live the Romance, Become the Fantasy…”
** Predators & Editors Best Author 2012 **
Website: www.denysebridger.com

Click on the cover to order!

Since the theme is my choice today, I thought I’d introduce you to an exciting new story! Crescent Moon will release on June 4th—or at least the first installment of the book will release on that date. The scary part for me? It’s not all written. Once the first part releases (the first five chapters), readers will have a chance to interact with me to let me know what they think about the story, and maybe to influence the rest of it! I have just two parts completed and am working on the third. There will be eight altogether. This will be a full-length novel by the time I am done, but you will only have to pay $1.99 to begin reading, and then every two weeks, a new installment will be shipped automatically to your Kindle. You won’t have to pay another penny.

What’s Crescent Moon all about? I’m not 100% sure.

The story’s still germinating. I do know that the first part begins in ancient Egypt with my heroine who lives an exalted life as the wife of a god. You will get a hint of her predicament when you read the following scene. Then the story picks up in New Orleans with a gruff, damaged cop, Juste Henry Boucher, who finds the heroine during a robbery investigation at a local museum. That’s pretty much all I know, except that demons are rising…

Because I’m so excited about this project, I have a special prize to offer one lucky commenter today. Let me know how you like the story so far. Be sure to check out the book at Amazon (just click on the cover!). The prize? A pair of earrings, handmade by me. Silver and lapis lazuli. Something Egyptian-themed to go along with the book! I will choose a winner Sunday night! Enjoy the excerpt!

From Crescent Moon:

One last time, her mind drifted, peacefully content…no shadows or disquiet to disturb her…allowing her to separate the parts of herself, first body from spirit…and then the mournful, dying part of her soul to dwell forever in the pit, while what remained, the part that would be born again, floated upward on golden wings. 

Her sprit ba left her mortal shell and spread its wings, flying through the small bright hole in the ceiling, leaving behind her swaddled human form, which lay on a bare wooden bench.

One, two, three strong surges of her fluttering wings and she flew toward the sun, free at last and feeling grateful to her husband for his generous gift. Her wings caught an updraft and she held them still, floating on the wind, the glorious waning sun warming her back.

Her spirit flew above white limestone cliffs and past a deep quarry littered with enormous blocks of carved stone. A sudden gust riffled through her feathers, forcing her to fly west, high above a barren valley.

But at last, her ba tired, circling downward, searching for the great river to lead her home. But no familiar white-washed city dwellings, no temple walls lay below. No fields of cotton and wheat.

Confused,  she made her way back to the dismal pit. Not wanting to enter, she flitted around the opening, feeling weary and afraid. Something dark awaited her. Some horror in the shadows.

And then she spotted the man with the dark watchful gaze, standing beneath the opening, his arms outspread to catch her…

Her heart pounded against her chest, the sound intruding on the vision. Khepri’s eyes slammed open.

Freedom was only a dream, a memory. How long had she been sleeping?

Slowly, Khepri grew more aware of her surroundings. Pressure enveloped her from head to toes. Frayed edges of linen strips surrounded her eyes. An ache centered in her head made her want to gasp, but when she tried to draw a deep breath, the constriction around her chest made the movement impossible. She couldn’t feel her fingers or toes. Her body, other than her head and chest, was numb.

Something was terribly wrong. Short, panicked breaths huffed in the silence.

She blinked, bright sunlight streaming through a hole in the rock ceiling above, blinding her, making her eyes tear. Unable to turn her head, she peered beneath the fringe of her dark lashes, through the openings left in the fabric, gazing upward. Her sight cleared slowly, but was filtered as though looking through the gauzy curtains that surrounded her bed in her tiny house inside the temple walls. But the haze obstructing her sight wasn’t merely physical. It was a thin curtain pulled over her mind. One placed there. Purposely, to confuse.

Her head reeled, not understanding, not recognizing where she lay.  The sickly-sweet scent of frankincense tickled her nose.

“Precious little warrior, you are awake.”

If she could have drawn a deep breath, she would have spit. Sudden fury trembled through her body. She didn’t understand what was happening, but knew he was the one to blame. She wanted to rage against him, ask how he dared abduct her. She was Amun’s wife, his mortal consort. But the only sound that scratched from her throat was a tiny whimper.

“You have questions,” he crooned from beside her. “We have little time. Pharaoh’s army marches. They will find us soon. We must bury the nameless one, hide him before they can entomb him. No one must ever find his body. He will not sleep in a sarcophagus. No texts will be written to reawaken him, no mask placed over his head so that he may recognize himself in the afterlife. He must not rise.”

Her lashes drifted downward. She remembered the moment the handsome, lying vizier stepped off the plank lowered from the side of the barge.

“Pharaoh is dead,” he’d said, his voice uninflected.

Her heart had grown still. The news was devastating to be sure, but why had he traveled so far from Luxor to tell her?

And then snippets of memories bombarded her mind.

Khepri moaned, spreading her lips and baring her teeth to catch the edges of the strips surrounding her mouth, but they were stiffened and wouldn’t give. Her eyes rounded in fear as she realized how dire was her predicament.

He bent closer, his dark eyes alight with sympathy. But then he moved away. Taking with him his masculine scent, musk she’d found attractive. The odor mocked her now.

Although she feared him, she wanted to cling to the sight of him. Didn’t want to feel so alone, so trapped and helpless. Perhaps she could reason with him. But he was insane. Would no one stop him?

Deep in her mouth, she gurgled, nearly choking on the tears that leaked from her eyes and burned the back of her throat. “Please,” she whispered. From a distance, she heard his footsteps. He drew nearer, holding in one hand a slender reed with one end frayed and trimmed to form a brush and dripping red paint, and in the other a palette, red pigment swirled. He leaned over her and made strokes on the coverings enclosing her chest, down her belly, splitting over her thighs and moving down to her toes.

“What are you doing?” she rasped, as some of the cool liquid seeped through to touch her skin.

“Painting spells, Khepri, Amun’s wife. Introducing you to Set, the protector of souls, entreating him to keep you close until you are needed. To hide you from Osiris so your soul will not be judged. Not yet.”

“Until I am needed? I am needed at the temple.”

He tsked and continued to paint, accompanied by the soft chuffing sounds of bristles rasping on resin-hardened fabric.

Her tears quickened, soaking her skin beneath the wrappings and leaking into her hair. “I am The God’s Wife. You have no right.”

He sighed and strode back into view. When he leaned over her, sympathy no longer shone in his eyes. A deep furrow dug between his sharp dark brows. “I need quiet to think,” he said, his words peppering her like hard pellets. He placed a hand over her nose and mouth, cutting off her air.

Panic made her gurgle, but she was unable to fight. She stared upward at his gleaming eyes until darkness closed over her vision.

* * * * *

Be sure to check out the snippets on these other authors’ blogs:

Myla Jackson
Lauren Dane
Leah Braemel
Caris Roane
Eliza Gayle
Jody Wallace
McKenna Jeffries
Shiloh Walker
Taige Crenshaw
HelenKay Dimon
Lissa Matthews
Felicity Heaton
Mari Carr

Elle kindly offered to give away three prizes! The winners were chosen by
random number generator. They are Karen C, Elizabeth H, and Sharon Chalk!
Congratulations,  ladies!  I’ll send your emails along to Elle so that she can get
with you to arrange delivery of your prizes!

* * * * *

Just Because

I’ve been in a writing funk for the past couple of weeks and I need something to cheer me up. Nothing gives me greater pleasure than to make readers happy. If it’s by the escape I provide, the happily-ever-after I deliver or just saying hello, I hope I make someone else happy in my work. So for all the readers out there, enjoy a good book, take a little journey and have a little fun between the pages. I know where you’re  coming from and enjoy where you’re going to, because I’m a reader too! That’s how I got my start. I love to read, and I love the satisfaction of a great story with a  happy ending.

Leave a comment on why you like to read for a chance to win the prize I’m giving away today in honor of my latest book release VOODOO FOR TWO (CAJUN MAGIC series). The prize? A book and a toy bug. The bug because it’s one of the characters in the book. The book, just because.

Elle’s Bio:

Elle James spent twenty years in South Central Texas, ranching horses, cattle, goats, ostriches and emus. A former IT professional, retired Army and Air Force Reservist, she’s proud to be writing full-time, penning intrigues and paranormal adventures that keep her readers on the edge of their seats or laughing out loud. Now, living in northwest Arkansas, she’s given up wrangling cattle and exotic birds to wrangle her muses, a malti-poo and a yorkie. When she’s not at her computer, she’s traveling, out snow skiing, boating, or riding her four-wheeler, dreaming up new stories.

Social Media:
Website | Blog | Facebook | Twitter | GoodReads

Voodoo For Two Buy Links:
Buy at Amazon
Buy at B&N

About Voodoo For Two:
Be careful what you wish for…

Determined to marry the most eligible bachelor in the parish to save her family, Lucie LeBieu turns a “love bug” loose to cast its Voodoo spell. What she doesn’t count on is hitting two targets—the golden boy congressional candidate, and her Cajun-hot ex. To set things right, she must undo the spell before she falls into bed—-and back in love—with a certain down and dirty heartbreakin’ cop.

Undercover investigator Ben Boyette is back in Louisiana on special assignment when he runs across his old flame, brewing up trouble as usual. But when hometown threats turn deadly, Lucie’s life is on the line. Determined to protect both her and his politician assignment from falling victim to a murderer, Ben finds that he’s the one who’s falling hard…for the irresistible bayou temptress.

We have a winner (chosen by random number generator)! Our winner today
is Diane Smith! Diane, congrats! Email me to let me know which email
address you want your free book sent to!

* * * * *

Ooops! I’m late getting this up. Had dogs to walk, cats to feed, a litter box to clean, and an 8-year-old to feed. It’s my last day of house-sitting and I can’t wait to get back to my writer’s cave! I can’t write as well or fast anywhere else. I want to sit in my padded leather executive chair—the one shaped to the contours of my butt. TMI? Probably, but I’ve been thinking about that chair all week!

So today, I’m posting an excerpt from my Lone Star Lovers series. There are 6 books in the series. If you haven’t read them, the books are all set around one town, but they are “2-fers”—every two books is closely connected. I did that purposely in case someone wanted to try a book, but didn’t want to read the entire series to understand how everyone interrelates. I’m thinking I need a closure for the series. Whether it’s one story or two, I’m not sure. Those of you who have read some of the stories, do you want to see more? Although, I do have an idea for a new series centered around a family of mixed-breed Comanches with a love for “sharing”…. You tell me which you want more!

I took a break from the Lone Star cowboys to write about the brothers on the Triple Horn Ranch. The last book in that three-part series will release sometime in July. And I’ll be writing some paranormal stories, too… So cowboys, demons, and witches—that’s what you can expect to see from my Samhain novellas in the coming months.

If you post a comment today, you’ll be entered to win
a free download of this book!

“…Put into the mix three sexy brothers who happen to be cowboys and who are hot for one lucky female? You have a sexual, erotic masterpiece!” ~5 Stars and Top Pick!, The Romance Reviews

“…Delilah Devlin just makes this type of story such an adventure as well as a hot ride… You will never go wrong with a Delilah Devlin story and you will never be disappointed.” ~5 Cherries, Whipped Cream Reviews

“Cleverly written, Breaking Leather breaks the mold when it comes to ménage stories… Highly recommend.” ~Sizzling, 4 1/2 Stars, Sensual Reads

“…The characters themselves are fantastic. All three men are alike and yet very unique. Chrissi is a strong woman and her character is flawless. Add in some wonderful support characters and you’ve got one robust set of characters and one outstanding story that shouldn’t be missed.” ~5 Hearts, The Romance Studio

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

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. Read the rest of this entry »

Thank you Delilah for letting me guest blog today, because today’s a very special day for me. It’s Release Day for COLLECTOR’S ITEM, my new paranormal romance from The Wild Rose Press.

To find her missing aunt, a headstrong shapeshifter joins forces with a cynical Alpha to investigate an illegal hunt club, but when their plan backfires can she escape a trap of her own making?

To celebrate this special day, I’m sharing a little about the development of my shapeshifter story. Also, I’m inviting everyone to enter my COLLECTOR’S ITEM Release Week Contest, running now through May 23rd. See details below!

Paranormal stories are often about hiding the reality of being dual-natured from the rest of the world. I chose to have shapeshifters living openly in the population, but they haven’t been “out of the closet” for long. In my world, the emergence of shapeshifters was motivated by a threat to their survival–the Collectors. The Collectors is a secret society of human hunters. Their goal: to capture, hunt, and kill shapeshifters–the Ultimate Big Game. The Collectors have been so successful, shapeshifters are forced to seek legal rights and protections or become an “endangered species.”

When creating COLLECTOR’S ITEM, I decided that I wanted to use a feline shapeshifter instead of a werewolf. Nothing against werewolves, but I’ve always been a cat person. Also, by not choosing to do werewolves, my shapeshifters would not be tied to the moon’s cycles, giving them more autonomy. However, the biggest difference in my shapeshifters is that I gave the animal side of my shapeshifters their own names and distinct personalities.

The heroine, KT (Katarina Teresa) Marant, shares her consciousness with Andi (Andromeda). The hero, Peyton Allers shares his consciousness with Max (Maximilian). The animal personalities fulfill the role of “side-kick,” and provide a bit of comic relief as well.

The story of COLLECTOR’S ITEM begins when a member of KT Marant’s family disappears and KT Marant immediately suspects the Collectors. As the trained, but inexperienced Female Alpha of the Marant Clan, KT has the skills but lacks the knowledge to follow through on her suspicion. Enter Peyton Allers, an undercover Alliance Protector and Alpha in his own right.

EXCERPT:

Peyton Allers struggled to contain his temper as he faced the “princess” of the Marant clan, AKA Katarina Teresa Marant. Because a high-blood princess had slipped her leash and made herself a target for the Collectors, his cover and his operation were blown. No simple “chip & tip” would do for this Collector’s Item, damn it!

Added to the inevitable hysterics and demands for protection, he’d be elbow deep in politics. God, he hated politics. Bowing and scraping while maneuvering to find the best location to stick in the knife.

Not with this one, his jag, Max asserted.

The princess stood behind the couch, hands on hips, a tiny crease between her eyebrows while she looked from Massey on the rug to him and back. No hysterics in sight, Peyton noted with relief. Points for restraint.

Alpha, said Max.

Princess, Peyton countered. Even they had their moments of intelligence, but he knew better than to expect more.

To see how this all works out, I invite you to read COLLECTOR’S ITEM, now available from The Wild Rose Press.

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THE CONTEST: One lucky person will win a COLLECTOR’S ITEM mug filled with caffeine and chocolate! Rules are:

1. LIKE my Denise Golinowski/Author Page on Facebook = 1 Entry
2. TWEET about Collector’s Item using #collectorsitembook and @DGolinowski = 1 Entry
3. POST a comment here and mention that you’ve completed #1 & #2 = 1 Entry
4. WAIT – I’ll be drawing a lucky winner on May 23^rd and post the winner on my Denise Golinowski/Author Page
5. EXTRA CREDIT – LIKE FB page for COLLECTOR’s ITEM – Collector’s Item/Golinowski = 1 Entry

Easy Peasy you can have 4 entries in the drawing.

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ABOUT DENISE: Denise Golinowski has always been a writer. A hopeful romantic, she gravitated to fantasy and romance.  She is a PRO member of the Romance Writers of America, Virginia Romance Writers, and James River Writers.  A native of Richmond, Virginia, Denise lives with her uber-supportive husband and one devoted lap kitty. She is currently working on a Contemporary Paranormal Romance involving another member of the Marant Clan—KT’s older brother, Peter Marant.  You can find her on facebook at Denise Golinowski/Author and at her blog, Golinowski’s Gambol.

A Winner!

I forgot all about this! So sorry! For my defense, I have been a little busy. Still am. If you saw yesterday’s post, you have an inkling why. 🙂

Anyway, I used a random number generator to pick the day and the winner’s name. The lucky winner gets one handmade (by me!) “Night Crow” pendant with black leather cord necklace. I painted and inked it, then threw in some crumbles of silver leaf. It’s very pretty and dark.

From Tuesday, April 23rd, the winner is…Teresa Hughes! Teresa, congratulations!! Send me an email with your snail mail address, and I will get your pendant into the mail!

A Brand New Contest

Let’s make this super easy. Since I have so many books coming out in June, I’ll help one reader with her book budget!

What can you win? An Amazon gift card worth $20!

What do you have to do to win? Simple. Comment on my blog—on any posting, from now thru May 30th! I’ll choose a winner at random from among all the comments. Good luck!

A Question

My DVR is filled to bursting with shows I’ve taped and hope to have time to watch soon. Last night I watched the season finales for NCIS (love the very special Tony DiNozzo!) and NCIS: Los Angeles (you thought I’d love on LL, right? Oh he’s still  hot, but Marty Deeks is stealin’ my heart!).

Of course, both shows left us with maddening cliffhangers. What both shows also gave us were two long-time-coming kisses. Tony finally kissed Ziva—on the freakin’ forehead! Dang-it! But did you see Marty kiss Kensi? I wanted to see him grin afterwards, but I’m guessing he’ll be regretting the impulse in the new season when she puts him firmly back in “partner” status.

What about you? Are there any shows that are just killing you? Will Juliette ever fall back in love with her Grimm? Will Patrick Jane ever catch Red John? Have we really seen the last of Lena and H.G. in Warehouse 13?