UPDATE: The winner is…pc!
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Did you know I have a complete series of BDSM books centered around Memphis cops? The Delta Blue series was a complete blast to write and ended with Book 5, Once is Never Enough. Read the sexy excerpt below then leave a comment for a chance to win one of the stories in the series!

Mondo is a legendary Dom and Master at the La Forge club. He’s helped his Memphis PD friends navigate the BDSM world and find the women of their dreams. Now, the vice cop and Dom is the last single man standing. But Mondo’s waiting for the right woman, one strong enough to match his dark passions, and he’s sure a timid grade school teacher definitely won’t make the short list.

Sunny Boudreau is content with her somewhat vanilla life, But when a trio of lovers moves in next door, she’s drawn to them and their group of friends, especially a certain tall, dark, and dangerous Dom.

Mondo tries to warn Sonny off, but her first taste of the club only whets her appetite and ignites her desire to prove she’s exactly the woman Mondo needs.

Excerpt

Viewing the submissives beginning to line up like wallflowers at a high school dance, Mondo Acevedo curled his lips in distaste. Not that the women and men weren’t attractive. A few actually were. Any other night, he might have been tempted to take a couple of them to his private room where he’d work them over, giving them the attention they craved while providing himself the escape he needed.

Not that he was interested in assuaging more than his frustration. Sex wasn’t the goal. Not when one particular woman haunted his thoughts—and such an inappropriate choice for his heart to settle upon, but what could he do?

Wasn’t he always lusting after someone he couldn’t have? Thoughts of a waif with slanted green eyes and straight, silky black hair that brushed the tops of her buttocks blew through his mind, unsettling him again, and he made another restless circle around the large salon.

Tonight, the muted lighting and plush red sofas weren’t inviting—not when he imagined draping a pale torso over a sofa back and stroking a firm bottom with his favorite deer-hide flogger. Something that stroked like a caress when laid across an ass with steady strokes but flicked fire with a snap of his wrist. He’d have her cunt dripping honey into the deep upholstery while she rubbed her small breasts on the velvet.

Mondo’s cheeks billowed around a quick exhale. Why was he torturing himself? He wasn’t one to moon over a woman. He’d never spared a second thought for regret over the path he’d chosen for himself. By his nature, he was dominant. By his training, he was a Dom. No pretty little schoolteacher, no matter how lush her mouth or pink her pretty pussy was, would change his nature.

Read the rest of this entry »

I try not to do puzzles too often, because I love variety on my blog. However, my dd took this terrific photo, and of course, my first thought was that it would make a terrific puzzle!

So, here it is…

Most everyone has heard of a bucket list. For those who haven’t, a bucket list is a comprehensive wish list of ideas, achievements, and experiences that a person strives to accomplish in his/her lifetime. Bucket lists have no set number of entries or right or wrong listings. Each list is individualized by its creators. Some people share what’s on their list with others while some choose to keep their list private. Some people do not have a list at all and never make one. Just as there are no correct or incorrect listings, it’s neither good or bad to have (or not have) a list. It all depends on the person and his/her point of view.

So, why am I discussing bucket lists and rehashing information that is common knowledge? Well, as I was thinking of my own bucket list and running my mouth with friends and writer colleagues about our current works in progress, I began to see a pattern in romantic encounters we’d either shared in real life or have written about in our works. I decided to take a closer look to investigate if there exists a type of romance bucket list—not necessarily one that most people hope to accomplish, but rather, activities that most people have engaged in during their lifetime. And sure enough, there seems to be. As you guessed it by the title, I’m going to list them here.

Now before I begin, I need to make a disclaimer. This list is in no way comprehensive. If you feel I’ve omitted something that should be on this list, please comment on this post. Also, if any brands are mentioned, it is not an endorsement of any sort. This post is not sponsored by or affiliated with any brand or company.

Now, onto the list. This list is not in any particular order of importance. The numbers are ordinal only.

1. Kissing beneath the mistletoe. Yes, people actually do this, perhaps not as much as in the past because fewer people seem to hang mistletoe during the holidays. And maybe that’s because the Hallmark Channel has purchased all of the mistletoe because they seem to have an abundance of it in their holiday movies.
2.  Long walks on the beach with one’s lover. I’ll admit that this is not anywhere to be found on my personal list. Being assaulted by windblown sand and squishy stuff between my toes isn’t my cup of java (and I don’t even drink coffee). But I’m not hating. This looks super romantic—for others.
3. Watching the sunrise (or set) together to end a wonderful date.
4. Stargazing with that special someone in a remote location where the rest of the world fades into nonexistence.
5. Making out in the backseat of a car/truck/SUV (you get the gist…automotive). This classic throwback still occurs. “Lover’s Lanes” do not appear to be the designated hotspot to engage in this deed, but there are plenty of other locales.
6. Feeding each other. Perhaps only germaphobes will think this isn’t hawt. Nearly, every person I talked to/interviewed said they thought this was a loving and intimate act. And the food being fed doesn’t matter. However, if you’re interested, the four most common foods that I heard listed were chocolate, strawberries, grapes, and desserts in general.
7. Dancing cheek-to-cheek even when the music stops playing. Y’all when this happens, this is how one knows he/she is really into a person There is no disputing the chemistry and romance when this occurs.
8. This includes isolated foot, back, head, or neck as well as full body massages and does not distinguish between giving or receiving. This does not include massages given in those “suspect” parlors. That’s another type of list (“The Client List”). Oh, and scented oils and lotions are a bonus.
9. Hot tubs, jacuzzies, and showers, oh my! Bathing or soaking together turns up the heat level to scorching. Steam rooms also were mentioned but not as frequently. I’m going to assume that may be due to most people having less access to steam rooms. Bubble baths popped up multiple times. (Get it? popped up as in bubbles… Yes, I’m a bit corner. Okay, a lot corny.) Anyway, Bubble baths were mentioned frequently, however, they were mentioned as “solo” guilts of pleasure.
10. Private stripping/pole dancing. This wasn’t one I expected (and honestly, I’ had to side-eye many of my friends … lol), but this seems to be a very popular thing. Oh-bee-kay-bee. It made the list. Have fun with it. It’s all good.
11. Spending a day in the park and eating food from park vendors. A very simple and inexpensive date but still romantic. Who said romance needed to cause bankruptcy, maxing out the Mastercard, or require a bank loan?
12. Initially, I categized this with park activities. However, it became evident that romantic picnics frequently happened outside of parks (e.g., rooftops, beaches, observation points, even living rooms. So, picnics had to have a separate listing.
13. And speaking of living rooms, sharing a bottle of wine in front of a fireplace, although the beverage does not necessarily have to be wine. Hot chocolate/cocoa had a high listing, too.
14. Breakfast in bed prepared by a lover. And some of you probably were thinking I’d forgotten to add this to the list. But nope, here it is—saving the best for last. This is a granddaddy staple to the list, in my opinion, even when the mean is burnt to a charcoal consistency and the kitchen sink looks like an atomic bomb hit a navy mess hall. It’s the thought that counts.

That’s it for this list. Well, not really. There are several more items that were frequently mentioned, but I arbitrarily decided to stop at fourteen. If you would like a part two of this list, let me know in the comment, and I will be happy to oblige.

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Or at least this should be my ideal summer day…
This is a picture I took! Enjoy the puzzle!

When I’m stressed out, the family knows exactly what helps me find a little sanity—a treasure hunt!

Yes, my dd took me to the thrift store again. I’ve been working on two sets of edits that are both due tomorrow. My eyeballs are bloodshot, and I tend to stare into space when I’m in the middle of conversations. Those two clues gave away my sorry state. My dd dragged me out the door. Really, she had to.

Which means, I also can’t spare the brain matter to think of a lively topic for today’s blog, so I told my dd to snap a pic of my finds…

My daughter looked dubious when I had her try to arrange them all into something presentable. She doesn’t get it. Maybe you will.

Let’s move in a circular pattern, clockwise from the upper left corner. The orange box is a treasure trove of out-of-date road maps! She shook her head. “Who needs maps, mom? We have apps.” Huh. I know that. However, maps are very useful in mixed media art. I can make paper beads, decoupage, use them for collaging, etc. She had the nerve to roll her eyes after I finished my defense of the map box.

See that thing in the background that reads “pony beads”? Well, it’s a large plastic bag crammed with art supplies, from foam glue sticks to paint sticks, to sequins, pom-poms, pony beads, ribbon, and on and on. I bugged my eyeballs at her. “You have kids underfoot all summer. Don’t you think some arts and craft activities will be helpful? Now, you don’t have to raid my stash!”

Two sewing patterns. Yes, I know. I can only sew straight lines. The patterns aren’t to help me sew a dang thing. I want them for some mixed media art and collaging. No boos and hisses from all you sewing-persons out there.

The packs of scrapbook papers and paper doilies? Self-explanatory, I think. Mixed media and Gelli prints. Duh.

The blue doily? My mom loves doilies, and I’m just not that wonderful a daughter to want to crochet one for her…

Lastly, the To Do pad. Because I had to have it. It’s paper. It says “To Do”. Nuff said.

 

My dd and I flew down to New Orleans for a couple of days. Why? Because we needed our NOLA fix! It’s a 7-hour drive, but we did it in two days anyway. It’s all the window of time we had. We took the 15-year-old and the 5-year-old with us. Both are great travelers, and we had a blast!

We stayed in the Bourbon Orleans Hotel—in Room 644—which is haunted! The 15-year-old had an “experience”, but that’s her story to tell. She’s always been surrounded by weirdness like that. Usually, she never notices, but we see it around her—this time… Well, she was a little freaked out…

This is a pic inside our room. My hair!!!! My dd set the rules. No makeup. No hair products. This is what a few hours of intense humidity does to my hair! Had to “dress it up” with Snap Chat!

Scary, right?! 🙂

Most of the trip was about doing our favorite things—eating, shopping, hitting the voodoo stores—get readings in Jackson Square. Here’s the 15-year-old getting her very first.

She also got to roam Bourbon with her mom at night! She loved it! Says she wants to live there someday. She’s soooo my grandaughter!

And did I mention shopping? That was the 5-year-old’s greatest joy. She loved her “mud-bug” beaded necklace, and we had to get her a mask!

Had to say no to the hat, but boy did she look cute!

Now, back to our haunted room…

If you Google Room 644, you’ll find plenty of mentions. James Franco stayed there. Paranormal investigators, too. The hotel was a orphanage run by nuns in its past, and one of the nuns jumped out of this dormer window…

I woke up middle of the night and took some shots with my “ghost camera”. I usually get tons of human shadows and ghostly orbs, and I got some orbs in this room, but he strangest thing was this red pinpoint of glowing light that kept moving across my viewfinder. I can see it when I blow it up on my screen, but trying to show it to you on my grainy blog is another thing. Maybe you can make it out midway down the window here, on the left side panel between the 6th and 7th slats…

It looks like just a tiny spot here, but I stood in the same place and took photos of the window, not moving the camera, and that glowing spot moved left to right. Best I could do, folks. 🙁 The pics aren’t as cool as the ones I’ve taken in the Crescent in Eureka Springs. If you want to check out my ghost photos from there, click on these links: Road Trip — Haunting at the Crescent Inn Hotel, Ghostly Orbs in the Crescent.

UPDATE: The winner is…Tamara!
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Love panther-shifters? Love a sexy Cajun drawl? Enjoy the excerpt and enter to win it!

Comment for a chance to win a free download of Bad Moon Rising!

Bad Moon Rising

 

On a whim, romance author DiDi Devereaux decides to travel to remote Louisiana bayou country to take possession of a house she inherited from a reclusive relative. But before she reaches her destination, she drives her car into a ditch to avoid a large animal that leaps into her path. Rescue comes in the form of a sexy sheriff, whose gruff demeanor seems to hide a feral attraction. As DiDi settles into her new home she finds herself torn between her attraction to the sheriff and the raw, handsome bad boy whose offer to help her renovate her home is a little too convenient and tempting.

Nothing in Bayou Noir is what it seems. When strange things begin to happen, her natural curiosity leads her into danger…

Get your copy here!

Read an excerpt…

DiDi hit SAVE and shut down her computer. Her newest story was beginning to pull together—or at least, the characters were coming alive. The external plot of her novel hadn’t yet gelled, because she hadn’t discovered what secrets the sheriff and the bad boy hid.

But the characters were now fully fleshed—the two men appealing to her heroine in ways DiDi understood all too well. The question she still struggled with was which man her heroine would ultimately choose. The thought made her smile.

DiDi closed the computer lid. Of course, Sheriff Breaux and Bobby Sonnier were the models for her two heroes. All the while she’d described her heroine’s first meeting with the men, she’d described her own feelings, and how her curiosity and body had both been aroused. Which man did she, DiDi, prefer? Funny, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d thought a man so disturbingly attractive. But in this remote location, within a single hour, she’d met two.

She stretched her arms above her head and glanced at her watch—two o’clock AM. Since she was a night owl by habit, she didn’t worry. However, the room was warm. The AC chugged along, but didn’t seem to cool very well. Upon returning to the room, she’d changed to cutoffs and a tank top, but the fabric stuck to her skin. Maybe drinking something ice-cold would cool her enough to rest comfortably. She slipped the pass key into her back pocket, tucked a couple of dollar bills into the front one, and let herself out of her room.

Outside, she breathed in the thick, humid air. The night was quiet except for the distant, blended hum of insects and frogs. Maybe it was the cloying heat, but she felt restless and aroused. Her thoughts swirled with the erotic fantasies she’d been spinning into a story.

A woman caught between two men.

On the outside, one wore a white hat, the other dressed like he’d just dragged himself out of bed. But inside, both souls were painted with the same darkness.

The soda machine stood next to the office, so she walked barefoot along the sidewalk, slid her money into the slot, and hit the button for a Coke. The machine shuddered, but nothing dropped into the well at the bottom.

“Damn.” She hit the button again. Nothing. Cursing, she bent and stuck her arm up into the opening, found the bottom of her can lodged at an odd angle, and rattled it until it dropped into her hand.

When she straightened, she held the can away and opened the tab, letting it spray outward.

The can was icy cold, and she drank down several gulps before turning back to her room.

DiDi drew up short. A car had parked in front of her room. A sleek Caprice with the township’s emblem and blue lights on the top. Sheriff Breaux stood with his arms crossed over his chest, watching her.

Had he seen her wrestle with the coke, her butt in the air? Would she ever catch a break with the guy?

DiDi made herself straighten her shoulders and sauntered toward the large man. Did he always wear that expression—so dark and intense, so watchful? She caught the way his narrowed glance scanned her bare legs and feet, and she shivered.

She’d take his frown over a smile from another man any day—the gesture did things to her. Challenged her. Made her tingle in all the right places. “Evenin’, Sheriff,” she drawled, walking closer.

“Miz Devereaux,” he said, nodding.

“DiDi,” she replied, curving her lips. “I thought we were getting friendly.”

His expression didn’t soften. “It’s late. Doesn’t a city girl like you know it’s not safe to be alone outside after dark?”

“Tell me,” she said softly, teasingly as she leaned against her room’s door. “This is a small town. What should I fear? And is the danger sporting four legs or two?”

His features stilled. He stepped closer and looked down his nose.

A move like he was trying to intimidate. She didn’t know why, but his stance aroused her.

“Bayou Noir is a quiet town,” he said, his voice dead even, “but you’re a beautiful woman. More temptation than man or beast might be able to resist.”

DiDi blinked, all bluster gone. Heat soaked the crotch of her panties. He thinks I’m hard to resist? “Looks like I don’t have a thing to fear with you here, Sheriff.”

His lips crimped in irritation, and he shook his head. “Told you before, Mason,” he bit out. “Seein’ as how we’re friendly now.”

Two could play this game of chicken. She stepped close enough she could smell him. “What if I like sheriff? I like a man being in charge.”

His nostrils flared. His eyelids fell. “Careful, chère…”

“Am I really that hard to resist?” DiDi lifted her chin.

He didn’t answer, but his gaze fell to her mouth.

DiDi knew she’d roll her eyes if a character in her book licked her lips at a time like this, but she couldn’t resist the tease. She stroked her bottom lip, wetting it and watching Mason’s eyes narrow further, homing in on the simple little motion.

“You like playin’ with fire?” he muttered, his voice guttural.

“I’m not playin’.”

His eyes were shadowed, a touch sinister and frightening.

She couldn’t have said why, but she wanted to rattle him. Answer his challenge with one of her own. DiDi leaned into Mason, pressing the hand not holding the soda against his chest and rising on her toes. When her mouth approached, she saw his lips part.

But he held still, watching her with that dark, steady gaze.

She placed her lips against his and rubbed, and then did it again when he still didn’t move. Pulling back, she gave him a slight glare. His expression hadn’t changed, but that didn’t defeat her. No way could she be this hot if he wasn’t returning some of the heat.

Plus, he hadn’t warned her away with a word or a gesture, hadn’t moved back either. Not exactly a no.

Angling a hand backwards, she set the soda on the windowsill and reached up to clutch his shoulders, pushed her chest against his, snuggling closer, and kissed him again.

His hands curled gently around her waist.

Her heart sped up, her body melted. She pressed her lips harder.

However, Mason pushed her away…but his fingers didn’t let her go.

Rather than reach for him again, DiDi curved her fingers into her palms. She’d never thrown herself at a man like that, without an ounce of encouragement. Feeling like a fool, she pushed at his hands. “Don’t worry,” she said, unable to hold his steady stare now that she’d humiliated herself. “I promise I won’t attack you again.”

“DiDi.”

“What?” she snapped, lifting her face, hoping to salvage her pride.

“Dammit.” His lips slammed on top of hers. His hands let go of her waist and glided around her back, pulling her against him. And then he was walking her backward, pushing her against her door while he devoured her mouth.

DiDi thought she’d been ready for his kiss. Ready for whatever he’d bring, but under the onslaught, her head swam, her knees weakened. She locked her fingers behind his neck.

Scents intensified—the smell of thick, green forest, the exhaust of his car, his aftershave, the unique smell of his masculine musk.

Sounds—an indistinct hum before—returned, becoming louder. Crickets chirped, frogs croaked. The wind sifted through the trees, rustling leaves and creaking branches. And his heartbeat grew loud enough, insistent enough, her own matched its beat.

And God, the lush, wet thrill of that kiss! His mouth was hard, his tongue sinfully fluid, sliding along hers then tangling and twisting until she had to suck on it to keep him still and savor the sensual connection.

DiDi felt as though she drowned in a perfect moment, falling deeply into lust, her body shivering and bending toward him.

Mason broke the kiss. His gaze raked her face; his jaw tightened. “Better get inside an’ lock that door, chère.”

“And if I don’t want to?” she asked breathlessly, looking deep into his dark eyes.

“Gimme your key.”

Relief made her knees shake. He’s coming inside. She dug into her pocket for the key card and handed it over. He swiped the key and pulled down the latch next to her hip. Then he tossed the key toward the bed behind her and grasped her waist.

DiDi began to reach up to enfold him in her arms—

Scowling, Mason pushed her backward and closed the door in her face.

“Fuck,” she whispered. That had never happened before.