My latest book is a slightly futuristic erotic romance called Programmed To Protect, which revolves around very human police agent Leith Wyatt who falls in love with a Beautiful Doll sex robot named Ginger on a planet called Tau Cetus.

Wyatt and Ginger truly love each other, each in their own way. And together, they manage to save their world from the threat of annihilation.

Ironically, last week my hubby and I were watching a DVD of the movie Her with Joaquin Phoenix and Scarlett Johansson. Have you seen it? It’s a powerful story of how humans can project exactly what they need onto another person, or, in this case, a high-tech operating system named Samantha (voiced by Johansson). Joaquin Phoenix was amazing in his very emotional portrayal of a lonely writer who falls in love with an OS.

And recently I read a news report about emotional robots going on sale in Japan next year. A walking, talking robot named Pepper from a company called Softbank has been designed for companionship, and is supposedly capable of reading human emotions. Japanese billionaire Masayoshi Son says the aim is to develop “affectionate robots that can make people smile.”

So this seems to be a trend.

But… Can artificial intelligence really offer the kind of companionship that humans crave? The closeness, the intellectual stimulation, the emotional support? It’s definitely what I portray in Programmed To Protect. Ginger was exactly what Wyatt wanted, and Wyatt was exactly what Ginger needed.  Still, my book is a work of fiction.

Could an actual human being be happy with a machine?

I think I was so affected by the movie Her because I could easily see operating systems that are customized to an individual’s needs becoming highly addictive. I mean, just look at how smart phones have already become indispensable to us!

And who wouldn’t desire a cyber best friend or virtual lover who is always there at the touch of a button? No complicated relationships, no messy emotions, just the perfect companion, always available when you want them.

Scary to think that human interactions could someday be considered too much work.

What do you think? Can artificial intelligence really offer valuable human companionship? I’d like to hear your opinions. And I’ll pick one commenter to win an e-book copy of my story Programmed To Protect.

In the meantime, here’s a short excerpt…

“Are you really not familiar with Beautiful Doll sexbots?” programmed Titus Veraine asked.

Leith Wyatt hesitated. “Of course I know about them. Everyone does. Or, rather, did, since they’re no longer being manufactured. But I never saw one in person.”

Veraine shook his head. “Damned shame. All the Dolls have been re-commissioned.” He paused, then winked. “Except for a select few.”

Wyatt’s eyebrow went up. “What do you mean ‘a select few’?”

Veraine gave Wyatt a sly smile, and jerked his head for Wyatt to follow him. The two men walked over to what looked like a small utility closet. Gripping the handle of the door, Veraine slowly eased it open.

Wyatt’s mouth literally dropped open at what he saw there. A naked female, eyes closed, obviously a Beautiful Doll. The sexbot had gorgeous red hair that flowed down to caress her creamy white shoulders. Double-D breasts that tempted him to reach out and fill his hands with their lush fullness. Curvy hips that would cradle a man while he sank himself deep inside her. Hell, even her lips were full and pouty, an unspoken invitation if ever Wyatt saw one. The robot screamed sex; he could feel himself responding just at the mere sight of her.

Veraine’s sly smile widened. “This is Ginger. She was Beautiful Dolls’ most popular model.”

Wyatt blinked. Ginger was the most popular model? He could certainly believe it.

“She’s in her hibernation mode right now.” Veraine glanced at the Doll. “Ginger? Say hello to Leith Wyatt.”

The Beautiful Doll slowly opened her eyes, and Wyatt’s jaw dropped even further. The sexbot’s eyes were a deep, emerald green, and had an almost starburst quality to them. They were beautiful.

“Hello, Leith Wyatt,” she purred.

Good God. The sexbot’s voice was a verbal caress, smooth as silk. Those two simple words were an erotic come-on in themselves. Wyatt felt himself get even harder. He threw Veraine a glance, unable to hide his look of amazement.

Veraine laughed, then shrugged. “Hey, I’m working day and night programming soldiers for the High Council. I deserve a little…stress relief.” He glanced down at his watch, then back up at Wyatt. “Listen… I, um, I’m going to go out onto the floor for a few minutes. Yeah. I’ll be back in ten minutes.” He tilted his head toward Ginger, then lowered his voice. “Beautiful Dolls are history, my friend. If you were ever curious about them, you should…indulge…that curiosity while I’m gone. It could be the only chance you’ll ever have.”

Wyatt stared at Veraine, speechless. Was the man actually suggesting that Wyatt have sex with the Doll while Veraine was out on the factory floor?

Veraine gave him that sly smile again. “Ten minutes. I’ll close the door on my way out to give you privacy.” He threw a glance at the sexbot. “Ginger? Why don’t you demonstrate your special brand of fellatio for agent Wyatt while I’m gone?”

“Yes, Titus.”

With that, the programmer turned and left the lab, pulling the door firmly closed behind him.

What the hell—

Trying to rein in his frantic thoughts, Wyatt anxiously turned back to the Doll. Ginger was smiling at him, a sweet smile, exposing perfect white teeth. Damn, she was beautiful, the most beautiful woman he’d ever –

Stop it! She’s not a woman, she’s a machine!

Ginger reached out a hand to grab onto his belt, and then sank gracefully to her knees in front of him.

“Wait…wait!” Wyatt’s panicked words sounded desperate even to his own ears. But what exactly was he desperate for?

Was he desperate to stop her, or desperate to know exactly what she was capable of?

No. This was insane. He couldn’t possibly let her perform fellatio on him, not even her own ‘special brand’ of fellatio, whatever the hell that was, despite the fact he was hard as a rock and very willing to find out.

‘Beautiful Dolls are history. You may never have this chance again.’

Damn Veraine for putting that thought into his head. The sexual skills of a Beautiful Doll were legendary, but Wyatt had often wondered whether the legend was actual truth or just a good marketing ploy.

This was his chance to find out.

“No, no, I can’t.” He had a job to do here. One that certainly did not include a detour for oral sex.

Ginger looked up at him, her perfect smile fading. “If you refuse, Titus Veraine will be angry with me.”

Wyatt paused. Veraine had given her an order, and she was programmed to please.

Before he could figure out the best way to deal with this outrageous situation, Ginger’s grip on his belt tightened, holding him in place, while her other hand slowly but determinedly eased down the zipper of his blue dress pants.

Dear God. The robot Doll had the strength of twenty men. He couldn’t stop her even if he  tried.

‘So don’t try,’ that wicked voice in his head argued.

Wyatt’s body shuddered in surrender, and his eyes rolled back into his head as the Doll’s mouth closed around him.

I hope you enjoyed that excerpt from Programmed To Protect!

Many thanks to Delilah for letting me blog today.  Remember to comment on my question: can artificial intelligence offer real human companionship?  I’ll pick a winner at random to win an e-copy of Programmed To Protect.

And if you’d like to know more about me, check out www.jennaives.com or connect with me on Twitter @JennaIvesAuthor or on Facebook http://on.fb.me/1gxFlZn!

Thanks,

Jenna

Big Dreams…

When Jess packed up her belongings and fled her small hometown in Kansas, she never looked back. Free from her family’s dark past she was finally able to pursue her lifelong dream as a professional dancer. She never expected to find herself at his door…or at his club.

Nikolas was unlike any other man she had ever met. Sexy…Alluring…Predatory. Dangerous. The kind of man with more secrets than even she had. Every instinct warned Jess against knowing him further, but she always did like playing with fire…

Nikolas Roman took one look at Jess and knew she was trouble from the very start. But something about the defiant twist of her mouth and the wide, haunted eyes of a damaged soul touched him in places he had long ago thought dead. He knew he needed to stay far away from her for his own sanity, but like a moth to a flame he was helpless to resist…

Working at Takers Gentleman’s Club was the last place Jess thought she would find herself, but she quickly learned how the game was played. See what you want, take what you can get…but at what cost?

Fallen Angel – Part I

Excerpt:

Time to face the music. Do or die this time.

She had tried everything at this point. Knocked on every door. Stood in every line. Went to every audition.

Nothing.

Don’t call us. We’ll call you.

She was so sick of that shit. If she heard it one more time, she would scream bloody murder.

It had been over six months since she arrived in New York. Her money was close to non-existent. If she didn’t do something soon, she would be completely broke.

Thank god her best friend Allison lived there. She would have been homeless otherwise.

“What the hell am I doing here?”

Allison wrapped her arm around Jess’s shoulders. “It’s no different than dancing on a Broadway stage. You’ll make a ton of money, and you have the rest of the day for auditions. What’s not to love?”

“Right. And tell me you’re not just trying to make me feel better.”

“Well…yeah. I am.” Jess punched her arm.

“What? It’s true.” Allison laughed, yanking her hair.

“Trust me. How long have I been here, Jess? I know we had different plans when we were kids. But plans change. This is how it has to be for now, ok? Just for now. Until that first gig comes through. So come on. Don’t chicken out on me. I told him you’d be here. He’s expecting you.”

They walked through the doors of Takers Gentlemen’s Club. Jess scanned the room to see who was there.

The place looked empty, thank god. Her eyes darted around quickly, nervously, taking it all in. The stage, the tables. The VIP Room.

The club definitely looked less seedy from the inside. It wasn’t Broadway, that’s for sure. But it helped.

“I cannot believe I am here right now.” She muttered under her breath. Allison must have heard her. She shot her a look. Urging her to shut up.

Jess ignored her. “Allie…I need a line. Some kind of rush to make me go through with this. Hook me up?”

“Jesus, Jess. If Nick catches you-”

“Allie, just give me some coke, will you? I need it to calm my nerves.”

She sat down on the edge of the stage, dipping her pinky finger in the bag Allison held out. She sniffed, feeling the rush up her nose. Instantly feeling ten feet tall. Like she could fly.

Much better. Her nervousness depleted, but not entirely.

She continued scanning. Looking for a reason, any reason at all, to run like hell. And not look back.

That’s when she saw him.

His dark looks gave him a dangerous, yet vulnerable air. Making her want to take him in her arms and hold him…and seek her own protection.

He wasn’t exactly what you’d call beautiful. But lord, the man had something about him.

He walked across the club to where they were standing. She took in a deep breath as her chest tightened.

She literally could not breathe.

Jesus. Get a fucking grip.

“Who do we have here?” His voice was deep. Confident. Sexy. Used to being obeyed, without question.

“This is the girl I told you about, Nick. The one auditioning for the open slot.”

Allison pushed Jess forward. She glared back at her. She felt like she was on display at an auction block.

He looked Jess up and down. She could swear she saw him lick his lips.

Yep. No reason at all to feel that way.

“Where you from, kid?”

“Manhattan.”

“Really. New York, eh?” His tone was mocking.

Jess cleared her throat. “Kansas.”

“Ah. Better.”

“I wasn’t trying to lie. If that’s what you were thinking.”

“I wasn’t aware you were a mind reader.”

“I’m not.”

“Then how do you know what I’m thinking?”

Jess bristled. “I don’t. If you recall, I said, if that’s what you were thinking. Never said that’s what you were thinking.”

Nick eyed her sharply. Jess willed herself to watch her smart mouth. It always managed to get her in trouble. Allison looked like she was turning a shade of green.

“So what’s your name?”

“Why do you care?”

“Jess!” Allison shot her a look she ignored. She was irritated. Tired of feeling so defensive.

It reminded her of her father.

“Because I own the fucking place, that’s why.”

“Again, why do you care?” She gave a humorless smile that didn’t meet her eyes. “All that fucking matters is that I get onstage and take my clothes off, right?”

“You got a massive chip on your shoulder. Anyone ever tell you that?”

“Anyone ever tell you that you ask too many questions?”

Nick stared at Jess for a few seconds and finally burst out laughing. She had nerve, that’s for sure. He’d probably killed men for less. She almost wanted him to spare her the same mercy.

Anything would be better than her shitty life.

www.amazon.com/Fallen-Angel-Adult-Romance-Book-ebook/dp/B00NW2UB8Y/
Bio

(transposed to the third person at an attempt to appear more mature *grins cheerfully*)

well…alisa did stuff and is still doing stuff. only now she has two boys crazy enuff to want her as their mommy. hey, at least she tried to warn them, so her job is done. she doesn’t like to capitalize, partially because she likes how lower case letters look visually, but mostly out of laziness. please don’t judge. it could be you. and she would say, hey. you’re alright, buddy. you’re ok in my book. now c’mere for a hug. the hug might be pushing it. air kiss? you are strangers, after all, with only a mutual love of poor grammar.

she lives for a world full of controllable anatomically correct, android men programmed to meet her specific feminine needs (wink, wink, nudge, nudge with a big waggle of the eyebrows). who look like the rock. and ian somerhalder. and idris elba. and that’s it she promises. variety. gotta have variety, right?

but alas…apparently that exists only in johanna lindsey’s genius mind. so until then, she enjoys her incredibly warped sense of humor. she reads tons of erotica and romantic, drippy goo that makes her heart go pitter patter. then she thought, hey. what, she said to herself. (softly, of course, so no one finds out she is indeed, 2 nuts short of a fruitcake) maybe you should write this stuff too. maybe someone will like it and maybe buy it. so she said, huh, you think? then she said, well…yeah, i wouldn’t have suggested it…(inserts sarcastic tone) and then she was like lose the attitude, ok? then she was all, would you just shut up and write, already? sheesh! and she did. 🙂

links:
Official: http://alisaandersonbooks.wix.com/alisaandersonbooks
Blog: http://bitchesbewritin.com/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/AlisaAndersonBooks
Amazon Author Page: http://www.amazon.com/Alisa-Anderson/e/B009IEA6A8

Hi Delilah and all you fabulous readers out there! *waves* Thank you so much for having me today! My romantic suspense, Maximum Risk, released this month so I’m very excited to be here! Thank you so much for sharing it with me!! 

Contest: In honor of my release I am giving away an e-book copy of any one of my books (go to my WEBSITE to choose) to one lucky commenter so please leave me a comment with your EMAIL so I can contact you if you win!!

Today I’m sharing 10 things about my hero from Maximum Risk, Quinn Wolff. I had so much fun writing him I hope you enjoy reading about him too!

1. He founded Wolff —an elite, private-sector security firm that specializes in personal & corporate security, high risk missions into dangerous places, hostage/kidnap/fugitive recovery, intelligence gathering.
2. He has five brothers who run Wolff Securities with him. And one feisty sister.
3. He is a former PJ—pararescueman.
4. He is the oldest of the siblings and he takes the responsibility and protection of the family very seriously.
5. He’s inflexible when it comes to that protection.
6. He wrote the Wolff Securities handbook, but when it comes to loved ones and the heroine, Avery, the book goes out the window. Much to his unease.
7. His favorite food is his mother’s pot roast.
8. He loves Sunday dinner at his parents’ house and their traditional football game afterwards.
9. He would die for his family or the one he is protecting.

***BONUS***

For everyone who signs up for my NEWSLETTER you will receive an e-book copy of my short story, Taking Chances ($.99 value) for FREE!

Thank you for having me today, Delilah!! I just want to send out a big THANK YOU to all my readers out there! Without you I wouldn’t be here. My wish is to one day meet each and every one of you so I can personally thank you for your generosity and support!  All my best,  Jennifer

Maximum Risk

It should have been a simple rescue mission…

Retired Pararescueman, Quinn Wolff, wrote the book on how to stay alive during a mission when he founded Wolff Securities, an elite private sector security firm. When he fast-ropes down to save missing humanitarian aid worker, Avery Marks, in the remote mountains of Azbakastan he isn’t prepared for the brave, stubborn woman who challenges the rules he wrote in order to protect her.

But when it comes to matters of the heart nothing is simple…

Avery Marks learned a long time ago to take care of herself, but when her convoy is attacked, her friends and coworkers murdered, she has to rely on the aid of intensely capable and handsome, Quinn Wolff to get her safely out of the country. His skills keep her alive, but his kisses put her in danger. In danger of losing her heart. That’s a risk she can’t take ever again.

Content Warning: Sexual content

Excerpt:

Copyright © 2014 Jennifer Lowery

Gut-wrenching sobs choked her as she brought the truck to a skidding stop in front of Quinn’s house. She fumbled with the door handle and nearly fell on her face when it opened. Leaving the door wide open, she ran into the house and straight to her bedroom where she slammed the door. Quinn’s borrowed bloody shirt lay on the floor, tainted with Ryan’s blood. Her own blood.

Memories of what they’d done to her flooded in. The pain. Her screams. The times she couldn’t scream. The missile hitting the Land Cruiser. Scott taking a bullet.

Oh God.

Unable to process, Avery pummeled the fabric with her fists. Over and over she swung until the pain in her arms overshadowed the pain in her heart.

A pair of arms wrapped around her from behind, picked her up off the ground and swung her away from the bed. Still aching inside, she kicked and fought to be free. The arms held tight, body taut.

“Let me go.” Her heel landed a blow and sent a jolt of pain up her leg, which only frustrated her more.

“Avery, stop.”

Quinn’s gruff command penetrated the emotions pounding inside her. Avery deflated like a balloon and slumped in his arms, chest heaving. Quinn’s chin touched the top of her head, his chest rising and falling in sequence with hers. He still hadn’t put her down; her feet dangled off the ground. The way he held her, tucked against him, made her heart ache even more. Almost as if he couldn’t let her go.

For just a moment she allowed herself to lean on him, letting him hold her close until it felt like they were fused. She didn’t analyze why she did it, or why he let her. Simply let it happen.

Quinn tucked his head into her neck, voice gravelly, his breath hot on her skin. “Goddammit, Avery.”

Mouth dry, she nodded her head in understanding. She didn’t need the words. What was done was done. She couldn’t take it back.

Gently he set her feet on the floor and she winced. They stung like she stood on a bed of glass. Before she could guess his intention, Quinn swung her into his arms and carried her out of the room. She wrapped her arms around his neck, too worn out to fight. Her gaze followed his tanned neck to the strong line of his jaw. His profile was rigid, lines of fatigue bracketing his eyes. So much strength and so much pain. He wore his emotions inside like a warrior. She admired that after the spectacle she made of herself.

Author Bio:

NY Times & USA Today bestselling author, Jennifer Lowery grew up reading romance novels in the back of her math book and on the bus to school, and never wanted to be anything but a writer. Her summers were spent sitting at the kitchen table with her sisters spinning tales of romance and intrigue and always with a tall glass of ice tea at their side.

Today, Jennifer is living that dream and she couldn’t be happier to share her passion with her readers. She loves everything there is about romance.  Her stories feature alpha heroes who meet their match with strong, independent heroines.  She believes that happily ever after is only the beginning of her stories. And the road to that happy ending is paved with action, adventure, and romance. As her characters find out when they face danger, overcome fears, and are forced to look deep within themselves to discover love.

Jennifer lives in Michigan with her husband and two children. When she isn’t writing she enjoys reading and spending time with her family.

Connect With Jennifer:
Author Website   Facebook   Twitter   Romance Recipes

Buy the Book:
Amazon
Barnes & Noble
Kobo
iTunes

Other Books by Jennifer Lowery:
The Maze (Book #1, ATCOM)
A SEAL’s Song (Book #1, SEAL Team Alpha)
Hard To Handle (Book #1, Sawyer Sisters Trilogy)
Hard Core (Book #1, Onyx Group)
Murphy’s Law
Taking Chances (short story)

Well, I finished a book yesterday—well, a novella anyway! Yay! It’s called Rules of Engagement and involves a Navy SEAL, and it’s related to my Lone Star Lovers series… I love Two Mule, Texas so it was natural my SEAL came from there. Not that there’s any kinky threesomes in this story. My guy is strictly a one-woman man. Can’t wait for you to read it, but you’ll have to wait until the Winter of SEALs box collection releases next month.

It was a huge relief finishing it before I leave for the NINC conference tomorrow. I still have work to do while I’m there, mostly editing, but no hard deadlines for a little while. I can breathe again. When I return, I have to knuckle down to finish another story due very soon. How did I get myself backed into a corner with so many stories to finish before the end of the year?

So, I’m thinking about hanging out a shingle to offer editing services to other writers. Anyone have any experience doing that? Any advice to offer? I’ve run a critique group since 2003. I’ve edited for Cleis since 2009. I do think I have a lot to offer. When I lay down my schedule for the new year, I’ll need to consider how I’ll organize my time.

But that’s not the question. I know there are people out there, like me, who are busy and up to their elbows in work all the time. And then there are folks who are able to break away at the drop of a hat to go shopping with friends, take a vacation, whatever. The point is some people either have a natural knack for time management or maybe they blow off their commitments to have fun.

Which are you—busy as a bee or living la vida loca?
If you’re living that more stress-free life,
how are you doing it? I sure want to know!

Hey there! I wrote the title of the blog and now “busy as a bee, as a bee” to the tune of “It’s All About the Bass,” is in my head. Anyways, I thought I’d poke my head in the door today to say hello. It’s early morning here and I haven’t really woken up. Needz coffeeeeee….. Hear the zombie voice there?

Speaking of zombies… Anyone watching Walking Dead? Wow, what a season so far! So many questions to be answered. I’m still waiting to find out whether that strange scientist dude is really just a crazy who thinks he can save the world. Where’s Beth? What did the preacher do? And now poor Bob…

Walking Dead is filling the void for me now that Outlander is on hiatus. And you ask how a horror-drama based on a comic book can replace a verra sexy Highlander in a kilt? Both take me places. Different places, for sure, but the acting, the action, the story—all those keep me dying to see the next episode.

And workwise? I’ll admit I have been up to my elbows in commitments, both writing-wise and art-wise. This past weekend I participated in an art tour as one of the stops on this scavenger-hunt-like tour where the public moves from one artist’s studio or shop set-up to the next. My dd and I worked hard to be ready with enough stuff—paintings, pendants, and bracelets. We did well, or at least much better than last year. So we’re happy and have plenty of incentive to keep making things. We just need to find more local events to set up a booth at.

Two things happened this weekend during the tour that stood out.

One was a crotchety old woman who was extremely rude to my daughter. First, she told her what she had to put in her shop because it was “expected.” Then she asked her, “Where did you learn to talk like that?” Well, the question itself wouldn’t have been so rude except for her delivery which was cold and snippy while she looked down her nose at Kelly. My daughter just kept smiling and told her she’d moved a lot as a kid, being a military brat. The woman persevered. “But where?” Kelly said she lived many places in the States and in Germany and Ireland. “Well, that explains what’s messin’ up your accent.” Whew!

Okay, so we don’t sound like rednecks! Bite me. I don’t judge you, lady! That’s what I wanted to say, but my daughter has a business to maintain, and then she confessed she gets that a lot. Folks think she’s uppity because she speaks in a neutral, middle America, newscaster’s accent. Rude much, people?

The second thing that stuck out was the “Redneck Flashmob.” Funniest thing ever. I swear, fifteen people came in at the same time, grandma on her walker, men in overalls and Duck Dynasty beards, down to teenagers. They were a cheerful group. I told them they looked like one of those YouTube flashmobs but the only thing missing was the dancing. Of course a few of them gave me a little Twist. 🙂

Great weekend, but now I have to get my head straight again. I have a book to finish by tomorrow night. And I have to pack for a trip to Florida (the NINC conference is there). I’m a little freaked out about flying with this ebola thing going on. But I’ve already paid for the ticket and the conference, the hotel’s on the beach… I have to go, don’t I?

The Guardians of Dacia Series

Romania has been called the mystical land of paranormal beings and creatures of the night. Before the Romans conquered their land, Dacia was a mystical land of magic and folk-lore until one man and his army destroyed the closely woven fabric set by the gods between man and beast. Now, cursed by their gods over two thousand years ago, one immortal clan struggles to maintain their private world while still learning to live and protect their human brethren as their enemy seeks power to destroy the new world.  But as the clans face extinction, a new generation of Dacian blood emerges to unite the clans once more. The world as they know it may never be the same.

Immortal Heat

Dacian Historian…  Determined to study ancient Dacian folk-lore abroad, Marilyn Reddlin’s plans are cut short when she is abducted by a dark-haired stranger who insists she’s in danger. The only danger she’s in is losing herself to her abductor’s inexplicable seductive energy. Draylon Conier teaches her there is more to Romania than myth and fairy tales while sweeping her into a wild adventure of paranormal mystery and intrigue.  Dacian History…  Thousands of years trying to pay back a debt, Draylon Conier is finally able to do so. Sent to capture a young, American student who is in danger while in Romania, he just has to send her back home. Easy enough for him. Unfortunately, Marilyn Reddlin is determined to thwart his every attempt—even telepathy. But there is more to her than meets the eye and the closer he gets to her, the more danger she is in, not only from the ancient immortal Dacian clans he’s trying to protect her from, but also his own sexual need.  History just got a lot harder.  They must find out what connection Marilyn has to Dacian history before Draylon destroys her when she succumbs to Immortal Heat.

Excerpt 

“Gods breath, Marilyn.” Draylon cupped her face, holding it in his large hand. “When I told you to do something to stop me, I meant in a physical way. You managed to do the one thing that would take me down in any form. Not for one moment would I try to dominate you without it being mutual. I don’t care how fast, how far we go, I won’t go any further than what you are okay with. And never, ever give yourself to a man without feeling the strongest of desires to do so.”

She shivered, but not from the cold, alpine winds against her naked skin. Draylon’s sultry voice touched her exposed soul. Her heart thudded inside against her breast and she felt the sudden urge to be wrapped in the security of him—nothing more, nothing less.

He shook his head with a sad smile. “Only when you feel you can trust me.”

Donovan met them at the base of the stairs, undeterred by their nakedness and handed Draylon large, thick blankets. Wrapping one securely around her first, Draylon kissed her forehead gently as if placing a blessing upon her. Donovan escorted her up the stairs into the warmth of the fortress. She turned to watch as a black wolf darted off into the distance.

Author Bio and Links

Born in north-central Michigan, Loni Lynne still loves the quiet woods, lakes and rivers in Otsego County and the Victorian era bay side houses of Little Traverse Bay. But after decades of moving around the country as a child and twenty-five years of marriage to her personal hero, she calls western Maryland her home.

Serving in the United States Navy didn’t prepare her for the hardest job ever, being a stay at home mom, to her two wonderful daughters. After years of volunteering as a scout leader, PTA officer, and various other volunteer positions, all while still writing snippets of story ideas, her husband decided it was time for her to put her heart to finishing a story. He gave her a laptop, portable hard drive and his blessings to have a finished manuscript, ready to be sent out to the masses in one year. He created a writing monster.

Immortal Heat was her first idea six years ago and has gone through many revisions since then. In the meantime another story took hold, Wanted: One Ghost and it became her first published book in 2013. Now with the help of her friends, family and friends of the romance writing community, she’s pursuing her love of telling stories written from her heart.

Links to Immortal Heat and Loni Lynne:

Amazon Page for Immortal Heat, Book 1 of The Guardians of Dacia series: http://www.amazon.com/Immortal-Heat-Guardians-Dacia-Book-ebook/dp/B00NHDED50/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1410880327&sr=8-1&keywords=Immortal+Heat

Facebook Page for The Guardians of Dacia series: https://www.facebook.com/TheGuardiansofDacia

Loni Lynne’s website: http://www.lonilynne.com

Loni Lynne’s Facebook Page: https://www.facebook.com/lonilynne

Loni Lynne’s Twitter Page: https://twitter.com/LoniLynne1

Loni Lynne’s Goodread Page: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7115619.Loni_Lynne

Hi all,

I’m here today to introduce you to PRIMAL, the second story in my new Overwatch series.

This series is the first time I’ve gone into writing something with the knowledge that I was building a series, so it’s been a whole new ride for me. Delilah can attest to the fact that just the thought of plotting and thinking ahead can send me into a panic. LOL

While Unfettered was the first story of the series it was more of a short 15k intro sort of thing. (And it’s free everywhere right now. (see more and read and excerpt HERE. )  PRIMAL is our first step going deeper into the Overwatch world.

While the characters will have Overwatch in common, the stories are not all “In the club” if that makes sense? So, you’ll see the club, and get to know the members, and take a walk in their lives. And hopefully you’ll want more of them, because I plan to have more of each character in every following story. As I get deeper into the club, the stories get longer. LOL  The joys of learning to write a series.

So I’d like to invite you to come on this ride with me. I think its be a helluva a good time!!

Below you’ll see the details of Primal.  One thing to note is that it is on sale at All Romance eBooks right now at the regular price for a soft opening. Or you can pre-order for only 99 cents at  iBooks * Barnes and Noble * Amazon.com * Amazon.ca  (release date is set for October 24)

If you post a review online, at any online bookstore, before October 24 just email a link to the review to helper@sashawhite.net and you will be entered into a draw for one of three Online Gift Cards ($10)

BDSM club owner Adam Kessler is no one’s hero. He joined the army to get away from the gang-life that had taken his brother, only to come home to heartache. He doesn’t hide his dominant side, and he doesn’t hesitate in his need to protect or enforce his particular brand of retribution on those who’ve earned it. There’s no way in hell he could walk past a man hassling a woman in an empty parking lot and do nothing. Only when the confrontation is over and the voluptuous blonde turns eyes filled with desire to him, does Adam realize he’s in trouble.

Psychologist Olivia Hamilton grew up with the proverbial silver spoon, and has never regretted spending more time on her career than on romance, until she meets Adam Kessler. He’s dark, he’s dangerous, he’s deliciously dirty…and she wants him.

Passion burns quick and hot between them and soon they’re caught up in an intensely carnal relationship that neither can deny. But when Olivia’s life is threatened and she learns just how dangerous he can be, will it be too much for the civilized psychologist to handle, or will she truly accept the man and win her hero’s heart?

For the rest of the day, Olivia tried desperately not to think about the man who made her feel so much more than safe. It was no use though. Three days and three nights go had gone by since she’d met Adam, and each one of those days she’d thought of him, and each night she’d dreamt of him.

Never had she wanted a man like she wanted him, and she didn’t even know him. It was crazy, and that was something coming from a clinical psychologist who understood crazy.

The psychologist in her said to get over it. He was a white knight fantasy, an effect of the shock and trauma of being attacked and nearly raped.

The woman in her said she go for it. Live a little and indulge her dormant wild side for once.

She rarely indulged in anything anymore. Somehow, her life had become work, work, and work with the occasional dinner date that ended in mediocre sex to satisfy the human need for touch. It wasn’t enough anymore.

So, later that afternoon, after her last client of the day left, she closed her files and left the office.

It was early Wednesday evening by the time she parked in the same lot she’d dropped Adam off late on Sunday night and turned her car off. She took a deep breath, picked up her phone, and dialed his number.

He answered before the second ring and, at the sound of his voice, everything she’d planned to say fled her brain. “I’m here,” she said.

Fortunately, they still seemed to be on the same wavelength. “Are you sure?” he asked.

Was she? She wasn’t a stupid woman. By all accounts she was, in fact, very smart. Intellectually, what she was about to do wasn’t so smart, but instinctively, she knew she could do nothing else. This man got to her.

“I’m sure.”

A relieved sigh gusted over the phone. “Where are you? Exactly?”

She told him, and a few seconds later she saw him round the corner of the warehouse in front of her. Heart pounding she disconnected the call and climbed out of the car to meet him in the lot. He strode forward, his powerful body covered in loose jeans and a white T-shirt with an unzipped hoody over it.

She was way overdressed in the suit she’d worn to the office that day, but she hadn’t taken the time to go home and change. She’d left the office early, and still had to battle rush hour to get there. After three days, she hadn’t wanted to wait any longer to see him again.

“How are you?” he asked.

She smiled. It was funny how those three words were so common, yet sometimes they meant so much. The concern in Adam’s whiskey-colored eyes made it clear he meant his words; they weren’t just some polite nicety.

“I’m good. No after effects at all. Except the headache of having to go in and formally press charges, that is.” She smiled ruefully.

He nodded.

They stood there, face-to-face, in another parking lot, not speaking. It was weird. Normally the silence would feel uncomfortable for her, but with him, she didn’t mind. Just being with him somehow made everything feel normal. No, not normal. Right. Being with him, sharing space with him, felt strangely right.

Then he spoke. “Why did you come?”

“Um.” She licked her lips, suddenly unsure. Maybe it was all in her head. Maybe he didn’t feel the same pull she did. Maybe—

“Are you here just to get laid, or are you interested in me as a man and a person?” He stepped closer, reached out to grasp her hand and her wildly careening thoughts calmed. “I’m asking because I want to know if you’re staying for dinner after I fuck you so hard you’re gonna have trouble walking tomorrow?”

Her breath caught in her throat. If any other man had spoken to her like that she’d have slapped him so hard his head spun, but the flicker of tenderness lurking beneath the heat in Adam’s intense gaze made his coarse words an incredible turn-on.

Who was she kidding? Everything about the man was an incredible turn-on

Olivia pulled herself together. “Dinner after sounds good,” she said with a grin.

He tugged on her hand, and she followed when he turned and strode back toward the building. Adam pushed through the front door of the warehouse but stopped halfway through the next.

“Close up for me, Bash. If you need me, you know where I’ll be.”

She caught a glimpse of a boxing ring and a young guy skipping rope before the door closed and Adam led her to a door she hadn’t even noticed to the left in the entryway. He shoved a key in the lock, opened it, and led her up the narrow set of stairs there without saying another word. When they reached the top, he let her hand go and kept walking while she stalled, checking out the open-space loft of the converted warehouse.

It wasn’t that big, maybe a thousand square feet, but it had a rough beauty to it. Sort of like the man himself, she thought as she watched him stride across the concrete floor to the huge bed against the far wall. He’d let go of her hand when they’d reached the top of the stairs, and she realized it was for a reason.

He still wasn’t a hundred percent sure of her. If he was, he would’ve walked her right to the bed himself. Instead, he stood next to it, watching her, waiting for her to go to him on her own.

“I feel like I need to warn you,” he said.

“Warn me?” she asked as she glanced around the loft, taking in the shelf full of books, the closet and bathroom doors, the comfortable sofa and arm chairs, and the big metal cabinet in the far corner than had a large lock on it.

“You’re a lady, with a capital L, but I don’t want a lady in my bed.”

Her gaze snapped back to him. What the hell? He didn’t want her?

“Don’t misunderstand me,” he said, as if he could read her mind. “I want you, but I won’t be treating you like a lady, and I need you to know that all you have to do is say No, or Stop, and I’ll stop.”

“What will you be treating me like?” she asked.

“A woman who’s passionate enough to match my hungers with her own.”

Oh, Lordy. Breathe, Olivia.

“And what do you hunger for?” she forced out in a breathless voice.

He smiled, and it had enough of the devil in it that a little tingle of unease ran up her spine. “Control,” he said simply. “Complete sexual domination of my partner.”

“Sounds…wonderful,” she said, meaning it. Like most women, she had fantasies of submitting to a strong man who wanted nothing more than to give her pleasure. She was strong and in control all damn day long. Giving up control in exchange for pleasure sounded good to her. And there was no doubt in her mind that Adam would give her pleasure.

“Good,” he stated. “You masturbate?”

“Of course I masturbate.”

“Show me.”

“Now?” Heat flooded through her. Arousal mixed with excitement and embarrassment.

His expression didn’t change, he just waited to see if she would leave or do what he said.

Part of her wanted to leave. Just say “screw that” and walk away. But a bigger part of her was eager to strip down and do whatever he wanted. Intellectually, she’d understood there was a freedom in simply following. What she’d never really got until that moment was the strength required to do so. Saying she’d give up control was easy, but the reality of it, of laying herself bare both figuratively and literally, required an enormous amount of inner strength. Did she have that?

Hesitant, she studied the man in front of her.

He should scare her, what with his predatory air and closed-off expression, as if he really did expect her to turn and leave. But instead of fear building inside her when she looked at him, it was fascination and an eagerness unlike she’d ever felt. If she turned and ran, would he chase her?

A shiver danced over her skin, making her nipples pebble and her pussy pulse.

Before she could think twice, her hands were up and her fingers were slipping the buttons on her blouse undone. Keeping her gaze on him, she continued to undo them as she walked toward him. When she stood less than a foot from him, her blouse hung open and she shrugged it off, letting it fall to the floor.