I’m at the RT Book Convention in Dallas, TX right now!! It’s in my backyard actually since I’m a Texas girl. Yea!!
This will be my second RT to go to and this year I’m bringing my mom. So excited and love it when she goes to cons with me.
Last year the convention was in New Orleans and I had a blast!! Here are a few of the wonderful people I got to meet. Maya Banks, Shayla Black, Kiera Cass, Damon Suede, Sylvia Day, and EL James. OMG and so many more.
Love all of them!
So here’s a question….what author would you LOVE to meet? And why?
Doesn’t have to be romance. It can be any genre! My favorite answer will win an e-copy of any of my individual titles.
Have a super duper awesome rest of your week and I’ll check back when I get home and pick my answer!!
Need a little extra sizzle to get you through the day? May I suggest a bit of kink…. 🙂
The books in the Members Only Series can be found here…
Jennifer Kacey is a writer, mother, and business owner living with her family in Texas. She sings in the shower, plays piano in her dreams, and has to have a different color of nail polish every week. The best advice she’s ever been given? Find the real you and never settle for anything less.
For weeks we’ve been bombarded with the various issues surrounding the events which occurred over the past few months in Ferguson, Missouri. As I write this story on December 1, 2014, there is a story of a father of six pushing his way through the protesters to get to one of his three jobs so he doesn’t get fired.
What does this have to do with writing romance novels you might ask?
In WHAT A RICH WOMAN WANTS (Samhain Publishing, May 2015) the hero is a mixed race former gang member turned sheriff’s deputy who is starting a program in his community to help young men like he was. He had little family structure and not the best start in life economically or educationally. Where are young men in his situation supposed to turn? In Niko’s case he follows his childhood friend into a loosely formed street gang and only escapes when he’s forced to make a choice between his friend and his son. (Niko first appears in A FOREVER KIND OF GUY, Samhain 2012)
I watch the continuing coverage about racial issues and Ferguson in particular and I wonder what it is we can do? Mostly, it seems, what we do is say to ourselves, “Oh, that’s too bad, but it’s not my problem.”
What I love about Niko is that from his perspective what kids need is guidance and support. Somewhere to go (if there’s no one at home for them) that isn’t the street. A safe place where they can get help with homework, a snack, friendship, counseling, mentoring. A place to play sports where the focus is learning to get along with others and working as a team not necessarily winning. Niko wants to give these kids the tools they need to be successful in life. He wants to keep them alive, off the streets, and out of prison.
Niko’s a bit idealistic but he believes in what he’s doing and he’s passionate about it. He sees a situation he thinks he can change and he does something. It isn’t easy. He’s forced out of his comfort zone and takes risks to accomplish his goal.
I wish there more heroes out there like Niko. Guys who really understand what it takes to turn your life around and who are willing to give back to the communities and help people who are where they once were. If more of them stood up maybe the rest of us would be there to stand behind them.
WHAT A RICH WOMAN WANTS
He knows she’s out of his reach. Until she reaches out to him.
Braddock Brotherhood, Book 4
Right about the time Lesley Robinson’s father’s stroke left her in charge of his Fortune 500 company, she adopted her housekeeper’s sick baby and divorced her philandering husband.
She’s survived the past six years by building an impenetrable wall around her emotions. But when a hunk of a sheriff’s deputy turns up at her office to apply for a grant from the company’s foundation, her distrust of men and relationships takes a direct hit.
Niko Morales clawed his way out of gang life to build a new one grounded in law enforcement and a passion to help disadvantaged youth. So, Lesley needs a companion for an upcoming social occasion? He’s no gigolo, but for his community center, and maybe for her, he’ll wear the monkey suit.
Without any apparent effort at all, Niko sneaks under Lesley’s cool façade, shaking up everything she believed about herself. But when their relationship is threatened by the sins of others, they’ll both have to step up—and out of their comfort zones. Or they’ll lose the one thing they want most: each other.
This should have released last Friday, but the story got lost in limbo then suddenly appeared today on Amazon! Yay! It’s the latest in my series of short story releases, and a fun way to introduce you to my very dirty mind. The cover isn’t as colorful as some of the other short stories I’ve released, but it depicts the mousy heroine of my story to a T. And don’t worry! She doesn’t stay mousy or shy for very long.
If you’d like to sample more of my short stories, just click on a cover here:
What’s cool about this? Amazon has a new program called Kindle Unlimited. It’s like Netflix for books. You pay one price, $9.99 for a subscription, and then you can download as many books as you can read that month. But if all you want to do is read a shortie, the price to you is just $0.99–less than a cup of coffee!
Nip-n-Tuck
Follow a shy seamstress’s adventures with an online suitor that don’t go quite as planned…
A short excerpt…
Gabby Brown heard the distant ding of the bell above the shop door and checked her watch. Noon. At last. She’d been nervous all morning and had stuck her fingers with pins until the pads tingled. She’d ushered out the last customer fifteen minutes ago, and then hurried to the restroom to run her fingers through her curly hair and gloss her lips. She wore her “uniform”—a cardigan over a plain, button-down blouse, a dark, knee-length skirt, and comfortable shoes.
The clamps she’d attached to her nipples were concealed beneath her padded bra. The slim, short vibrator was already inside her; the remote tucked into a pocket of her sweater.
She glanced at her reflection, pleased with her plain appearance.
I can do this, she told herself. It wasn’t as though they were complete strangers. Perhaps she didn’t know what he looked like, but he’d learned her secrets, her passions while sharing his own. He’d slowly stoked a fire inside her, promising her a discreet thrill. The first of many.
For a woman who had somehow let her youth slip by, the chance to live out a few of her favorite fantasies was too enticing to ignore. He’d promised an elicit pleasure. A test run, of sorts. To save embarrassment or hurt feelings, they’d also agreed to hold off discussing future engagements until they could meet again that evening online. And because she’d admitted she was shy about revealing her body this first time, today she would remain fully clothed.
Leaving the bathroom, she pulled back the curtain separating the store from her fitting room. Her glance landed on the long lean body faced away, looking at a pair of ugly plaid golf trousers. When his hand reached for the hanger, she smiled.
Their pre-arranged signal.
Forcing away her smile, she entered the room and strode quietly up behind him. When she stood beside his shoulder, she enjoyed the fact she had to tilt back her head when she turned to meet his gaze. He was bigger than she’d thought he’d be. “Would you like to try them on?”
The face that turned her way was more handsome than he’d led her to believe. A strong angular chin, a blunt nose. Dark thick eyebrows framed a pair of curious brown eyes.
A frown dug a line between those dark eyebrows then his gaze flicked to hers again. “The pants are ugly as hell,” he murmured.
“I’ll help you with them, if you like. You could try them on for size,” she said, suddenly breathless, flirting with her eyes and lips. She bit her bottom lip, and then released it with a little laugh.
His slow, answering smile melted her. It was crooked and dug a dimple into one cheek. He was younger than she’d initially thought, looking at him.
Eager now, she grabbed the hanger, clamped her hand around his fingers, and tugged him along. “Come with me.”
And he did, much to her relief. There was no sign he was disappointed with her appearance. No reluctance in the drag of his feet. Just a quirk of his eyebrows and a quick glance around the shop.
“Don’t worry.” She glanced at the bell above the door. “We’ll know if anyone comes in. I’ll be quick.”
He cleared his throat but ducked through the curtain to follow her inside her little room.
She knew what he saw. A dingy little airless room. A sewing machine on a dented work table. A rack crammed full of clothing she’d already mended, shortened, let out… She was a seamstress—not a sexy job—at least, not until he’d convinced her otherwise.
“This is where you work?” he asked, his voice sounding slightly bemused.
She lifted a shoulder. She’d warned him the shop wasn’t much. “I make a living.”
“Doing…alterations?” His eyebrow quirked.
“Exactly. But we don’t have a lot of time. Marlon will be back from lunch in half an hour,” she said, mentioning the shop owner who’d employed her for over ten years. She lifted her chin toward the pants still clutched in his hands. “Try them on. We’ll discuss the fitting.”
Both eyebrows shot up this time. “Right here?”
The playacting was fun but now that she’d seen him, she wanted action. “If you’re shy, you can use the restroom, but there’s no need. Not with me.”
He gave a slight snort, shook his head, but set the pants on her work table. He took off his sports coat, loosened his tie, and then toed off his well-shined black shoes. When his hands paused at his belt buckle, he rested his gaze on her for a long moment.
She decided to make this a little easier. She strode toward him, shooed away his hands, and holding his gaze, she unbuttoned his waistband and slid down the zipper.
A muscle straddling his jaw flexed. “This a full-service establishment?”
Her grin dug a dimple into her cheek. She liked his sly wit. “I live to serve,” she said, giving him a wink.
“You’re pretty,” he whispered.
He sounded surprised. So she believed his words. “Thanks for saying that. I hardly ever go to the bother of makeup, but I wanted to look special today,” she admitted, feeling heat rise along her neck.
“Today’s special,” he said, his voice uninflected.
“Yes. “ Grabbing his waistband, she dragged his pants off his hips. Her gaze dropped to the erection tenting his boxers. “Very special,” she whispered.
His trousers fell around his ankles, and she knelt to hold them while he stepped out. She liked his legs, liked the dark hair cloaking his olive skin, the muscle tensing in his thighs as she stood, her hands grazing him lightly as she came up.
She reached for the bright green golf pants and dangled them off a finger.
Again, his eyebrows shot up.
“Like we agreed,” she said breathlessly. “Put them on.”
“But…”
Oh, nice touch. She shook her head at his reluctance, raising her finger like a schoolteacher to scold him. “Let me work…first.”
About the time I started writing a short story about a guy who gets set up on a blind date by his busy-body co-worker, my partner and I took a trip through Central Europe. It was mid-July, warm (but not too hot) and sunny, with lots of tourists. While not our usual time of year to travel, it gave me plenty of material to expand my story.
We flew to Zurich, Switzerland, then traveled by train the rest of the vacation, going to Salzburg, Klagenfurt, and Vienna, Austria; Prague, Czech Republic; and Berlin, Germany. Reaching Vienna, we toured through Hapsburg history throughout the city, and the premise for The Bastard’s Key was born. I imagined the tourists around me as characters in the story, from the hunky German train conductor to the dark-haired young man leading a tour through one of the museums.
As we continued through our trip, the story unfolded, ideas rushing to my mind incorporating the local scenery and people. I imagined the bomb on the train and having to detach the last couple cars. Several of the meals I described in the story we actually had. We’d hiked up Kapuzinerberg in Salzburg after disembarking from the train and found a beautiful overlook of the city. I found myself thinking about the main character, Heath, and what his reactions would be to the beautiful city with the excitement of adventure and romance layered on top.
The Bastard’s Key incorporates the Swiss and Austrian legs of our journey, as well as another two-day trip I had in Paris. The vacation we took became fodder for the suspenseful erotic romance published a couple days ago. As I continue to travel the world, I look forward to inspiration taking hold and pulling me willingly along through not only my own vacation, but the experiences of my potential characters.
****
You can read about Heath and Anton’s first adventure The Bastard’s Keyhere. The second story in the series, Pennington’s Conquest, will release in the Spring of 2016 with MuseItHOT Publishing.
Excerpt:
He strode into the lavish bathroom and locked the door. The knocking started as he stepped into the shower, but Heath, ignoring it, closed the glass door and turned on the warm water to mask the sound.
“Heath, please let me in.” Anton’s muffled voice through the door was barely audible over the spray of the shower. Water cascaded down Heath’s body. It was his first shower in almost two days. He moved under the spray, drowning out Anton’s knocking and pleas as he tried to rinse away the horror of his recent experiences. The water brought a measure of peace to his tired body.
The scent of lavender surrounded him, and he discovered a bar of soap. Small flecks of purple revealed the source of the soothing fragrance, and he ran the bar over his torso.
He attempted to think about his situation rationally. Everything he owned was burned and under the ruins of his apartment building except for the contents of his backpack and that damned key around his neck. He couldn’t go back to work because at least one person was trying to kill him. It would rip him apart if any more innocent people were hurt because someone was after him. Although two of the would-be assassins were in a mangled car at the bottom of a steep cliff, there may be more than one other out there wanting him dead.
Anton. What about Anton? He could’ve snatched the key several times, not even telling him what it meant. He could’ve let Heath die three times, but saved his life. Not only did he give Heath a place to stay, he made love to him like he meant it. Not just steamy sex, but sultry, sensual lovemaking. There was a spark of something strong inside Heath. It wasn’t lust or desire, but a deeper rush of emotion. A new feeling, stronger than any he’d experienced in any past relationship.
Heath lost track of how long he stood under the hot water. Steam swirled around him, and he noticed that his smooth skin began to prune. With a sigh, he turned off the water. A plush white towel waited for him on a heated rack, and he pressed it close to his body as he dried off.
Wrapping the towel around his waist, he released the lock on the door and peered into the bedroom. The ornate bed was now made up, and the change of clothes from his backpack was laid out and ready for him. A small piece of paper along with a freshly cut red rose lay on top of his jockey shorts.
I’m sorry. –A
The note was short and to the point. Heath inhaled the strong fragrance of the rose and put it in the glass of water by the bed. A knock at the door hurried his dressing. He pulled on the jockey shorts and jeans and went to answer the door.
It was Violet. She stood there with a tray holding two teacups and a silver tea service.
“Good morning, my dear.” Her gaze raked up and down his torso, and she sighed. “All the hot ones are gay.”
“You’ve been saying that since I met you.”
“Well, it’s true. This is the first time I’ve seen that luscious slim chest of yours. I love dark-haired men.”
“I’m a bit scrawny.”
“Nonsense, Heath. You’re a hottie. Tea?”
“Uh, sure.” He wasn’t really sure, but Violet was a force of nature not to be questioned. She poured out two cups of tea and plopped herself down, handing one to him.
He held his nose over the teacup. Citrus and mint. “Where did you get this? It’s my favorite.”
“Your desk at work, and I told your boss that you had a family emergency and wouldn’t be back for a few days.”
“Hmmm.” He sipped his tea. The taste was familiar and comforting.
“Anton really enjoyed your date. The hike and picnic wasn’t a ruse to get close to you.”
“Did you know what was going on?”
“My dear, you are hot, young, gay, and single. You were the perfect match for my Anton and damned lucky he noticed that key. I never saw it.”
Heath raised an eyebrow. “Then why did you set me up with those three losers before you introduced me to him?”
Violet laughed. “Well, it took me a bit to realize you were perfect for him.”
“He said he worked in the medical industry.”
“Yes, well. He couldn’t exactly tell you that he fought international criminals, could he?”
“I suppose not. So what happens next? Where do I go? That guy is still out there, and I’m worried that he’ll find me here and hurt you two.”
Violet chuckled again. “Don’t you worry one bit about us. Those idiots will never get in here, and what happens next is up to you.”
“What do you mean?” His confusion clouded his thoughts.
“Life’s thrown you a curveball. Are you swinging at it or hiding in the dugout?”
Heath sat back in the chair and sipped at his tea. He looked out the open window, taking in the blue sky and the sparkling ocean on this crisp autumn morning.
There really wasn’t an option. He couldn’t hide for the rest of his life. He’d be in danger either way.
He looked back at Violet and grinned. “Batter up.”
****
Brent Archer began writing in 2011 at the nudging of his cousins. His first story sold, and he was hooked! Stay tuned for the May 14th release of his short story A Ride Home as part of Neil Plakcy’s Take This Man anthology. Preorder it here.
Visit his website to keep up on upcoming releases, and follow him on Twitter: @brentarcherwrit.
I am often asked what drew me to write paranormal romance. Sometimes I am even asked by the uninitiated what paranormal romance is. To the latter, I typically answer that it’s Twilight without the fade to black (not entirely accurate, but it helps people understand). As to the former—as a kid, I loved fairy tales. Dragons, wizards, magical objects and enchantments tickled my imagination. As I grew older, the fairy tales evolved into fantasy novels with higher stakes, lengthier quests, and more mature themes. I love the escapism offered by these foreign, imaginary worlds.
Paranormal romance is an adult twist on my beloved fairy tales. The elements are the same; oftentimes you see magic, otherworldly creatures, quests, and imprisonments. But the genre also offers the exploration of feelings and satisfaction of a romance novel. You root for the main characters. You are pulled along as they fight to come to terms with their internal struggles and outward battles and finally achieve their happily ever after together.
I love and appreciate all the subgenres that Romance has to offer. I’ve loved reading about different time periods and have a weakness for books with hunky cowboys or swashbucklers on the cover. But for me, it’s the element of the fantastical, the foreign and magical, that sells me on paranormal. My books offer mythological creatures, other worlds, and plenty of sexy spice.
When I set out to write my Phoenix Warrior series, I chose a different mythological creature—the phoenix—as my inspiration because it was relatively uncharted territory. The Phoenix Warriors are hunky immortals guarding the human realm and I’m told my books have lead to some “inspired” time in readers’ bedrooms. Whether you are new to paranormal or have read dozens of authors, I hope you’ll give my sizzling series a try.
I am grateful to Delilah for inviting me to share my thoughts and my books on her blog. I would love to hear from readers. Have you explored all the subgenres that Romance has to offer? What draws you to a particular subgenre?
About the Author: Karida Clarke is a romance writer with a penchant for anything otherworldly. If it has scales, fur, poisoned talons, throws fire or casts magic spells, it might find its way into her stories. Karida likes her heroines multifaceted and her males swoon-worthy, Alpha-style. She believes that relationships matter more than things and places. In her free time, Karida enjoys lacing up for long runs and cooking ethnic cuisine. Pet peeves include Saran Wrap and people who don’t put their shopping carts away. Karida has an M.A. in English Literature, is a former college English instructor, and currently writes for a small newspaper. She lives with her nerd-tastic husband and two spunky kids in Ohio.
There’s something to be said for starting over. Every once in awhile, life gives you the change to just wipe everything away and start fresh. Three and a half years ago life handed my family and myself just such an opportunity. My husband was offered a job in Austin, Tx. He had a great job in Illinois, where we were at the time. Both our families were there with us. We were established. But who can turn down the chance to start all over again? It’s an adventure. It’s a defining moment in life. The chance to stake a new claim and prove you can do it. So we did.
When a group of my Austin writer friends asked me about writing a story for their anthology, Romancing Austin, I wanted to tell a similar story. I wanted to tell the story about somebody getting a fresh start. And Juliana was born!
Do Over
Bad things happen—even to good girls.
Juliana was angry and heartsick when her fiancé left her at the altar. But she wasn’t going to let that stop her from going on her honeymoon to Austin, Tx. She needed a vacation—an adventure to shake things up. And the tattooed man she meets at a bar would make an excellent holiday fling. But Luke knows a good thing when he sees it. His job it to discover extraordinary people. He’s not going to let Juliana slip through his fingers.
But Do Over isn’t the only story in the anthology! There’s a little bit of something for everybody in Romancing Austin:
On sale for .99! Former rock star Dex Reed throws a wild comeback party in his Austin penthouse, and seven romances heat up the night.
No Quitting Allowed, Rebecca Royce
One last assignment and then Lana is quitting her job, quitting Austin, and moving on with her life. Until Jake stumbles into her and changes the direction of her whole world.
Twisted, Cara Carnes
Caleb “Colt” Douglas agreed to close out Twisted Delirium’s sold out world tour with a gig at SXSW for one reason–win back the woman he left behind.
Do Over, Chandra Ryan
When life offers Juliana a fresh start, will she follow her heart or play it safe?
Consortium, Riley Bancroft
Record exec Holt Michaelson married the enigmatic Chloe to keep his assets safe from a vindictive competitor, but after a fiery encounter with his new wife, he’s determined to claim her as his own, body and soul.
Tall Order, Irene Preston
Dylan made the worst mistake of his life when he chose his career over Aston, but tonight he’ll take a risk on Aston even if it’s too late.
Enchanted, Evelyn Berry
Stripped of her magic, fairy princess Aurora is torn between her duty to her imperiled family and to a brilliant musician who holds the key to their freedom…and her heart.
One Night with the Vampire, Jax Garren
Tonight Alex will finally possess the woman he’s craved, but Sofia’s dangerous family secrets threaten to tear them apart.
You’ve been thinking about those lips, that smile, that accent for days, weeks, months, years. Now, the universe has aligned and here you are. Anticipation, a.k.a. foreplay, whether verbal, body language, or physical adds a whole new level of HOT to any encounter. It’s the major premise behind my joint adventure with Author Lindsay Cross. Take a peek and answer the question at the bottom of the post for a chance to win a copy of Enemy Mine or Versions.
ANTICIPATION
A Heart and Handcuffs Anthology
Love is all you need… Really? Tell that to her unattended lady-boner. Sure, she and her husband had a love so strong it shouldered the weight of children, careers, in-laws, and out-laws, but the zing of excitement had grown into comfortable expectation.
He knew things had gone to hell in handcuffs. Work choked him on files and felons. Home’s honey-do lists weren’t much better, because nowhere on the to-do list did it say, “wife.”
They had love, but how did they get back to lust?
With a little bit of Anticipation…
Anticipation contains two sizzling ten-thousand word short stories. In Megan Mitcham’s story “Climax,” a busty—and brainy—redhead arrests her police-chief husband and shows him exactly what she’s had to do to get by without him for the last two months. In Lindsay Cross’s story “Need,” a work-from-home mom pushed to the brink pushes back, revealing her un-sated desire and forcing her Dominant to reestablish his role.
ISBN ebook: 978-1-941899-12-0
Release: May 2015
Length: 170 pages
Excerpt
“Why’d you insist on coming with me? This isn’t exactly your thing.” Lindley held up a gloved hand and fanned her fingers at him.
Fox’s broad back faced her. He typed furiously on his cell with the thick collar of his overcoat up on both sides. “What? Oh.” He turned his dark gaze on her. The ruddiness in his cheeks from the spring wind outside faded to sheet-white. “Damnit, Lin.” He looked away so quickly he almost snapped his neck. “I still don’t understand how it’s your thing.” He shoved the phone inside his pocket and gripped the table he leaned against with both hands. “When we met you seemed so normal.”
“I am normal.” She grinned, pleased with herself for shaking him up enough to get him talking. He’d been so quiet on the car ride over, stuck in the mire of his thoughts. And now that she’d seen the tip of the proverbial iceberg that had wrecked their sex life she wanted to know more.
“You have brains all over your gloves and you’re not about to hurl. That’s not normal.” His shaggier-than-usual locks moved in time with his shaking head.
“Sure it is. You like to solve puzzles. It’s part of the reason you became a police officer. Every case for you is an intricate weave of timelines, witnesses, evidence, leads, and documentation. Well, I like to tell people’s stories when they can’t.”
“So, what’s White’s story?”
“This bastard got shot in the head.”
Fox’s shoulders shook. He doubled over and the most glorious sound filled her morgue. She hadn’t heard his laugh in so very long. Sure he’d laughed with the kids, but not with her, not that real belly-rolling laugh, in too long. He buried his face in his arm. “Oh God, it smells awful in here.” The coat and thickly-corded muscles muffled the words.
Lindley let the sound wash over her, soothing the ache in her heart. “It’s good to hear you laugh,” she breathed through the thin face mask.
“It’s good to laugh. It’s been a long time.” With that, the last of his mirth dried up.
“So why’d you come with me?”
“The logical thing for James to do is run, but why’d he kill White in my office, in my chair? Nothing was stolen. Nothing was out of place.”
He resumed his grip on the table.
“A final FU?”
“Or it’s a threat.”
A tiny tendril of fear threaded itself around her heart. She strived to make light of the situation. But really, a man who’d eaten barbeque in her back yard had murdered the buddy he’d picked up on his way to their house. She could only blow off so much.
Lindley secured the metal spreader inside White’s entry wound and wiggled her fingers into his brain matter. “Why would he threaten you?”
“I pushed for the bust on Chino and his gang based on things we learned from following White and James.”
“Chino!” The tendril coiled tight and her fingers slipped off the tip of the metal slug.
“He’s not a problem for us. He knows how the system works. He’s a bad guy, but not The Godfather make-a-big-statement type. He’ll post bail within the hour. Whether he goes to jail or not, James is the one with the issue. He won’t have a prayer of showing his face in this town again. No matter what he says, Chino will believe he informed for us, and he’ll end up fish food.”
“And that’s not a statement?”
“It’s a little one.”
“Okay.”
“James stealing the money was an FU to the force. White in my office was personal.”
Lindley pushed everything aside, concentrated, and steeled her grip. “I found the slug.”
“Great. Can we go now?”
“Can you grab me a small evidence bag and open it?”
He sighed and moved to the wall of metal cabinets and drawers behind her. “Can you bring it over here. If I don’t see the body, I’ll do better.”
“I still don’t understand how you made it through seven years as a detective.” Lindley sidled up next to him and dropped the hunk of compressed metal into the open bag.
“I could look at that as evidence. This is like finger painting or sculpting with brains, and guts, and… Okay, I’m about to gross myself out.”
It was her turn to laugh. Finally. Fox’s wide eyes and reciprocating smile said he enjoyed the sound as much as she did. They shared a moment together. He moved in, but his gaze dropped to her hands. He hit the brakes.
“So, can we go now?”
“I have to clean him up, and then me. It’ll take another hour, maybe.”
Fox looked at her extra-large clock on the wall. “One o’clock. I’ve officially been awake for thirty hours.”
“Sissy. It doesn’t get good until you’ve hit the fiftieth. Mental function shuts down and you find you can sleep standing up with a candy-bar hanging out of your mouth.”
“If this place didn’t freak me out so much, I’d already be asleep. You know I like my eight hours.”
“I know you haven’t gotten that many in a row in a while.”
“I haven’t gotten a lot of things in a while.” His shaky finger brushed a group of stray hairs from her forehead. “I’m sorry.”
“Not as sorry as I am.” She leaned into his hand. The tiny bit of skin-on-skin contact bolstered her resolve.
Let me know what you think in the comments and remember to leave your email address so I can alert the winner!!! Which does it for you contact all the way or anticipation?
*~*~*~*
Megan was born and raised among the live oaks and shrimp boats of the Mississippi Gulf Coast, where her enormous family still calls home. She attended college at the University of Southern Mississippi where she received a bachelor’s degree in curriculum, instruction, and special education. For several years Megan worked as a teacher in Mississippi. She married and moved to South Carolina and began working for an international non-profit organization as an instructor and co-director.
In 2009 Megan fell in love with books. Until then, books had been a source for research or the topic of tests. But one day she read Mercy by Julie Garwood. And Oh Mercy, she was hooked!
Megan lives in Southern Arkansas where she pens heart pounding romantic thriller novels and window steaming erotic romance. Follow her on Facebook, Twitter, Pinterest & Goodreads!
Love all of them!
Jennifer Kacey is a writer, mother, and business owner living with her family in Texas. She sings in the shower, plays piano in her dreams, and has to have a different color of nail polish every week. The best advice she’s ever been given? Find the real you and never settle for anything less.
Brent Archer began writing in 2011 at the nudging of his cousins. His first story sold, and he was hooked! Stay tuned for the May 14th release of his short story A Ride Home as part of Neil Plakcy’s Take This Man anthology. Preorder it 
I am often asked what drew me to write paranormal romance. Sometimes I am even asked by the uninitiated what paranormal romance is. To the latter, I typically answer that it’s Twilight without the fade to black (not entirely accurate, but it helps people understand). As to the former—as a kid, I loved fairy tales. Dragons, wizards, magical objects and enchantments tickled my imagination. As I grew older, the fairy tales evolved into fantasy novels with higher stakes, lengthier quests, and more mature themes. I love the escapism offered by these foreign, imaginary worlds.
