Writer’s Support

I’m a believer that writers need a lot of support.  The family- making sure the writer gets the time in to write, for some, maybe read what they wrote, if the writer wants to share. To rejoice in the milestones, to spread the word….and so on and so forth. I know not every writer has that. I’ve heard stories where the families don’t show that kind of support, and that startles me. I am surrounded by so many people that do show me support. My mom and dad have a copy of my book. In fact, my dad snatched my proof copy and wouldn’t give it back until he finished the story.  My dad has always been an honest person, and he was touched by my book. He shares my excitement with all the milestones so far. He is the one that gave me the love of reading, and was never ashamed to admit that I’m a faster reader than he is. Lol.

My mom used to buy me tons of books, and it’s because I wanted them! Christmases, I got piles and piles of books! She bought me the spiral notebooks and pens so that I could write. I wrote my first poem at 12, after suffering the loss of a neighbor who was far too young to leave this world, and so I wrote about it. I stuck the poem in my headboard and I guess my mom came across it, and showed it to our neighbor, the grandmother of that sweet baby girl we lost.

My husband, who is also another honest person. Sometimes he’s blunt, even too blunt. But he supports my dream of writing, and he read through my now published book, edited it, formatted it, helped with the print copy process, and even shares it on his Facebook wall for his friends to see. He doesn’t read romance, he’s more of a fantasy reader (Terry Goodkind, David Farland) but he enjoyed my book.

My best friends, some of my writer buddies and partners….Where would I be without any of them?  Could I write without the support of others? I think so, but it’s still really great to have those on my side, to share the ups and downs of this process.

Most of all, to bloggers/revewiers and readers. They are the driving force for me. Yes, I’d write just for the sake of writing, I always have, but it’s the response that I’ve gotten already that tells me I’m doing something right as a writer. I’ve gotten some great reviews that brought me to tears, and frankly, I’m still in the clouds. I may not come down for awhile.

If you’re a writer, I hope that you always follow your dreams, even if you do or don’t get the support, but know that there’s always someone that loves what you do.

I just wanted to share my thoughts on that today.  Thank you for allowing me to do thank, thank you for reading, and thank you to my host today for sharing my words.

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The magic of Christmas has been lost to Jacob Winston. At the suggestion of his ill sister, Jacob takes a job as a Secret Santa at the mall, hoping to restore his Christmas spirit. Even that doesn’t seem to work, until a special little boy ambles up to make a very special wish…

Cheyenne Jensen is struggling to raise her two kids without the help of her ex-husband who refuses to acknowledge his daughter’s existence and doesn’t provide for the son he does. This Christmas is shaping up to be as heartbreaking as the last, until her son Ben’s kind actions lead a stranger to them.

Ah, but it’s Christmas time and the magic has begun.

When Jacob and Cheyenne meet, neither can deny their immediate attraction to one another. As situations arise that require they spend more time together, their feelings grow stronger and stronger.

With Christmas fast approaching, the pair learn what matters most in life. Now, if only they could ditch the ghost of Christmases past.

Maybe this holiday will bring some wishes come true- for everyone after all.

Excerpt from The Secret Santa Wishing Well: 

Jacob wasn’t far from her mind even when they weren’t talking.  Ben brought his name up constantly, admiration and love in his voice.  He really liked Jacob.  One night while tucking him into bed, Ben said something that melted Cheyenne’s heart.

“The wishing well with Santa worked.  He brought Jacob to us.  Jacob made sure my wish came true.  He really does know Santa!”  He’d said sleepily, closing his eyes with a big smile on his face.  But the words he said rang in her ears.  What was his wish?  With everything going on lately, Ben’s wish had slipped her mind.

So when Jacob called that evening, she mentioned it to him.  Asked him.  “What was Ben’s wish that day, Jacob?”

“Hmm?” he asked, obviously startled.  Distracted again.

“Ben said that the wishing well with Santa worked, that it brought you to us.  I’m curious what his wish was.”  Cheyenne leaned back into the couch, covering herself with the blanket.  She wanted to turn up the heat, but debated against it.  Ben and Desiree were warm enough, so why couldn’t she get warm?  If she turned the heat up anymore, she’d suffocate.  Not to mention the electric bill.

Jacob hesitated before answering.  “He wished for you not to have to work so hard.  That he could have a family, a daddy that loved him.”  Oh, Ben.  No wonder he thought Jacob was the answer.  Jacob had been there ever since the wish, since Ben met him.  He thought Jacob would be the daddy he always wanted?  That’s why he was so happy when he saw Jacob and Cheyenne exchange a hug or a quick kiss.

He had his sights set high.  Way too high.  While she wanted the best for Ben, he couldn’t go on thinking that Jacob was going to be a dad to him.  Jacob had his own life, though he’d been sharing time with them, it wouldn’t last long, would it?  With whatever he was dealing with that kept him at a distance, she predicted it wouldn’t.  Call it a fear, call it intuition, call it stupid, but when someone didn’t give their undivided attention and seemed to be shrouded in mystery, it couldn’t end well.

Cheyenne willed the tears not to fall.  What a wish for a six year old.  While her pride for her son was evident, the fact that a little boy had to wish for things like that tore her up.

“Cheyenne?  You okay?”  Jacob’s deep voice made her heart beat faster.

“I was just taken back.  Wow.  He shouldn’t have to wish for love from his father.  That’s terrible.”

“It is.  But you’re doing all you can.  You can’t control what his dad does, Cheyenne.  You have to know that.  Ben looks up to you.  He thinks the world of you.”

“He’s growing up too fast.  Sometimes he’s so much wiser than six.  I don’t always know how to react, or feel about that.”  A chill ran down her spine, spouting goosebumps on her arm.  She tried to shift positions, cover all of herself.  “I wish you were here.” She blurted.

Oh God, why did I say that out loud?  What was I thinking?

“I didn’t expect to hear that from you.”  Jacob’s voice went low, raspy.

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All About Nikki: Nikki Lynn Barrett lives in Arizona with her husband and son. She’s an avid reader, a dreamer, and loves everything about books. She runs a book blog, an online used bookstore, and writes various genres of romance. Nikki can also be found outside with her camera when a storm is near, snapping photo after photo. Her dreams of becoming a writer started when she was young, when she started writing books in one subject notebooks by the fifth grade. The Secret Santa Wishing Well is her debut book. You can visit Nikki’s site at: www.nikkilynnbarrett.blogspot.com for more information. She is working on her next book. Nikki would love to hear from readers. Email her at nikkilynnbarrett@yahoo.com

Facebook page: http://www.facebook.com/NikkiLynnBarrettauthor
Twitter: @Stormgoddess925
GoodReads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6583655.Nikki_Lynn_Barrett

Your Kink is not My Kink

Hi everyone. My name is Lynn Townsend, and Delilah’s been so kind as to let me guest with her today. I really appreciate the opportunity. I have a story entitled “Big Trucks” in her upcoming anthology, Smokin’ Hot Firemen. It’s been exciting to work with Delilah, as I’ve really enjoyed her work. I wrote “Big Trucks” in a fever of excitement in about three days – I found out about the CFS maybe a week before it was due – because my uncle, several cousins, and my grandfather were all volunteer fire and rescue.

I’m loud and proud about being an erotica writer. If someone asks me what I do, I tell them. My family – some of whom are excessively conservative – all know. I’ve been really upfront; they’re welcome to read my work or not, approve of what I do or not. I honestly do not care. As a note, if you’re a friend of mine, I never, ever expect you to buy my books just because you know me. I won’t ask you about it. If you tell me you bought it, tell me you liked the story, great, I’m happy to run my mouth, but I am never going to put you on the spot about it. You don’t have to like my work just because you like me.

Which leads me nicely into my topic of discussion for today;

Your Kink is not my Kink.

I’ve had a couple people come up to me, eyes all shifty, and whisper, “Do you really like that stuff… bondage and spankings and stuff?” Usually they’re referring to my story in Lustfully Ever After, “Garden Variety,” which is sort of bondage-weird.

The entire stalk shuddered, forcing her to wrap her arms around it, holding her balance.  “Liked that, did you?”

The vines around her shifted, moving, enclosing her.  Thick coils wrapped around her thighs, forming a swing, spreading her legs.  Her feet left the tentative safety of the stalk and Jackie was cradled in the air, supported only by the vines and leaves.  More vines looped over her arms, encircling her wrists like manacles.

Gentle tendrils, like fingers, explored her body.  She groaned, arching against the containment of the vines.  A vine twined in her thick blonde hair, tugging, prickling against her scalp.  More vines formed, touching her, caressing.  Jackie writhed, helpless against the overwhelming sensations.  Vines wrapped themselves around her breasts, tugging at the sundress until it was shredded, baring her skin.  The tendrils, like fingers, rolled her nipples, teasing them firm and taut.

The vine in her hair pulled, arching her spine, drawing her head back to bare her throat.  A tendril snaked up her leg, nuzzling at her soft, sensitive inner thigh.  Jackie shrieked with sudden wanting, her hips bucking against the maddening, seductive caress.  The tendril teased, achingly gentle, rubbing against her suddenly molten clit, drawing moans and whimpers from her mouth.  It tickled around her feminine folds, exploring, teasing, withdrawing each time she felt the tension building across her shoulders and chest.

Jackie cried out, thrashing against the vines that held her mostly immobile.  Her breasts ached, nipples hard, as the vines twined around the round globes, squeezing and teasing the tips to rosy peaks.  She could barely move as the vines tightened, pulling her thighs apart and her arms up, stretching her to every sensation, beyond her capacity for thought, leaving only molten desire, tinged with frustration.

“Please, please,” she begged, cresting up towards relief, then pushed back again as the vine between her legs slowed its relentless torment.  Slow and easy, the vine stroked her clit, plump and wet.  It flicked and squeezed, rubbing, caressing.  Jackie grew hot, her muscles shaking and contracting desperately.  Sweat beaded across her forehead, along the column of her throat.  She panted for breath, air burning in her lungs.  A final spasm and she shattered into a million pieces.  Cries of rapture and relief forced from her throat as she came, shuddering intensely.

Confession time: I adore a genre of Japanese animation (called anime) that’s referred to as hentai. (Hentai is a kanji compound that essentially means “sexually perverted”.) You can look it up, if you care to. It’s pretty strange and often very non-consensual. And I love it. Tentacle perversions, girls who can only orgasm if their sisters are touching them, demon sex ninjas, raising Lucifer from hell in an all girls’ school…. I watch yuri and yaoi (lesbian and gay erotic animation… yaoi actually translates to something like “goes nowhere, does nothing.”)

Despite my deep delving into perversion – some of which comes through in my work, as it very much did in “Garden Variety” – I also have some sexual hang-ups. (Humans are just weird.)

I don’t like anything food-based. The idea of someone drizzling honey or chocolate sauce, or whipped cream onto me and licking it off? Ug. It makes my spine crimp up and I get all cringe-y. And that’s considered a pretty mild kink, as far as kinks go. I hate being sticky. Hate it, hate it, hate it. Over the years, I’ve managed to work myself up to tolerating flavored lubes, but that’s probably as far as I’m ever going to get.

But just because in my real life, I would never, ever, I have a strange fascination with reading or watching other people do things that I wouldn’t. Shokolada is a wonderful guy I met a few years back at a sci-fi convention. He’s an amazing cross-dresser. He keeps his beard, I’ve never seen him in make-up, and doesn’t try to “pass” as a woman. He just likes wearing dresses and has the most awesome legs I’ve ever seen. Tina freaking Turner wishes her legs looked that good. Wow.

Anyway, Shokolada (http://chocmess.com/mess/)  runs a website that talks about the sexual fetish, WAMming, Messy Play, Sploshing. Whatever you want to call it, it’s generally a pie upside the head. I would not really be amenable to participating in this particular fetish, either on the giving or receiving end.

But man, I’ll tell you, I can’t stop reading about it. It fascinates me. Reading about it can get me feeling all twitchy and wanting someone to kiss and pet me. Just, don’t put pudding in my ear, ok?

His kink is not my kink. But his kink is okay.

No judgement here. I wouldn’t want to do it, but I’m certainly glad that other people do!

And that’s what writing erotica is about; finding what you like. There’s certainly a lot of stuff out there.

And the most important thing to remember is, just because you don’t like it, that doesn’t mean it’s wrong. Humans are weird.

When I’m not guesting at someone else’s site, I can be found at my own blog, Paid by the Weird, (http://paidbytheweird.blogspot.com/) or on Facebook  (https://www.facebook.com/LynnTownsendwriter) generally being obnoxious.

Good Morning! I’m so excited to be blogging here today.

When I first sat down to write this story, I never believed I could take a very short story and spin the plot out to where it is today. In the past few years, I’ve learned that what you plan on writing out doesn’t always turn out as expected. In the beginning, Amara and Marisol was a f/f story with no plans on adding a hero to the mix. Out of nowhere this strong male who met the females through The Delightful Kitten made an unforgettable entrance that couldn’t be oppressed. My sweet heroines found in him the mate who could complete them emotionally, and physically. I’m excited to have readers take a journey into the world of the Kanima and into the lives of three unique individuals, one who fought tooth and nail most of the way.

Amaranta Costa uses her Kanima as an avoidance tactic, until the one person she cherishes most is taken from her. When Gavin Ford enters the fray uninvited, she’s forced to accept the help of his pack to find her mate.

Trusting others isn’t her forte. Though her inner jaguar accepts him hands down, the woman in her fights his dominating, take-control nature. Unlike Marisol’s soft personality, Gavin’s wolf challenges her at every turn. She can find no escape. His abrasiveness both sets her on edge and pleases her. She finds being in Marisol’s arms isn’t enough; the all-consuming need to be his burns to her core. There’s no denying the chemical attraction arcing among the three of them.

Will she reach out, and accept the love and support waiting for her?

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Mari flicked a gaze between them and nudged her, leaning down to whisper in her ear. Amara jumped so fast at her words their heads collided.

“That fucking hurt. You have a head made of steel, Amara.”

“Damn it. Baby, I’m sorry. You surprised me. I can’t believe you think I’m interested in him,” she hissed low, offended by the accusation.

“You’re acting funny. Really odd. I’ve never seen you behave this way.”

“Drop it, sexy. I don’t want dick.”

“Keep on lying to yourself,” Mari volleyed back. Amara barely heard the last few words out of her lover’s mouth.

“Marisol.” Amara growled. “Drop it now.” Damn crazy woman goaded her into anger. Seeing the red haze begin to cloud her vision, she took a few calming breaths to shove her jaguar back in place.

“Ladies?” Gavin moved to come between them.

“Back off, mongrel.” Amara turned her body to the side, shoving Gavin with all her strength away from them. The bulk of his large frame crashed into the wall, knocking knick-knacks onto the floor. Draven and Theron both rose, she assumed to intervene.

“Kitten, sheath your fucking claws.” He extricated himself from the raining sheetrock and paint to stalk over to her. Rage sparkled in his eyes. He reminded her of a Berserker. Not good. Her calculations told her she could take him and win. The accuracy of such thoughts, when balanced against her ego, said otherwise. “No, you didn’t just call me some ridiculous, endearing term. We’re fighting right now. Stupid dog.”

“Oh, shit.” Mari squeaked and slid from her arms to Draven’s. Amara’s jaw dropped open. Her girlfriend wasn’t going to rub her back and calm her down. Instead, she took a front row seat. Heat suffused Amara’s face. By the look of things, the lapdog brothers of his stayed back, intent to watch, not interfere. In a dark alley on an equally eclipsed night, she’d find herself worried to go up against him. He drew his body larger with every step he took toward her. Amara quaked in her boots, not from fear but from the new awareness sparking within her. A feeling she didn’t like one bit.

Her heartbeat danced a new cadence as she fought between darting away and standing her ground. So what? A little plaster is good for a person. She curbed her rampant thought.

“We don’t have time for this. There’s a madman loose. I must hunt.” Hackles raised, she backed up a step for each one he took closer to her personal space. Gavin could easily reach out and shake her like a rag doll but apparently chose not to. She had no idea what his aim was or how to strategize a way out of venting his anger. Her gaze honed in on the growing bulge in his pants. When he turned from her and walked over to Marisol, she sucked in a deep breath, a sigh of relief. He murmured something to her girlfriend and she nodded her head yes to him.

“What are you two conspiring to do?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Gavin snapped her way, baring his fangs. He pivoted, heading in her direction, his jawline twitching.

Every assassin knew all entrance and exit points in a house. In the position she found herself against the far wall, nowhere to go, her only way out was to fight. I don’t want to hurt him.

Where her traitorous thought came from, she hadn’t a clue. He drew closer to her by taking larger steps than her small ones away from him. His scent hit her nose and her jaguar paced under her skin. Her pussy began to throb. To ache. Gods, the slight twinge intensified, bringing her to her knees. On wobbly legs she rose to stand her ground, defiant, her claws unsheathed for self-preservation. Her mouth salivated, wanting a taste. His eyes glimmered in amusement. She watched him trace his bottom lip with his tongue. Her nipples hardened from the sensual act. A brief thought of what his lips would feel like grazing along her skin flitted through her mind.

“What are you afraid of?” His coarse question broke through the erotic thoughts stream-lining in her head. The second he stepped close enough to cage her body between the walls and his chest, she faced self-truth.

“You. Me.” Her second word was lost to their audience as his mouth crushed down on hers and she was taken in a tailspin of sensations. His possession dragged her into an abyss of dark pleasure. Anger never tasted so good. She heard herself moan and couldn’t stop herself from running her hands up his chest, her body leaning into his for more. Gavin angled his head to part her mouth with his tongue. The taste of him sent shards of electricity to pulse between her thighs. Her needy cunt creamed. Startled by his effect on her, she struggled to break free, and realized she’d just become an active participant in Gavin’s kissing game, with her mate as audience in the room with them. Guilt overwhelmed her and she panicked. Gavin nipped her bottom lip between his teeth and bit. The look on his face told her they were by no means finished yet. He gave her one additional suckle, let go, and pushed off the wall out of her close proximity. Like a beast guarding his territorial rights, she watched him scowl at the additional members of his team who’d come in at an inopportune time, including some she-bitch to the right of the room, whose attitude hit her full blast.

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Contest:

I have a wonderful Satin and Steel coffee mug and keychain to give away. Comment with your email address for a chance to win. For additional chances, like me on facebook and follow my twitter @hales300

Author Bio:

Being smart and sassy with a great sense of humor comes easily for Mahalia Levey. An avid reader of books, she found herself enchanted with disappearing completely into the worlds authors created. One day she vowed to herself she’d be one of them. Then family life came, and college right after. Swayed from her childhood course of action, it took many years for her to get

back to that place she held dear as a child. Now she is running full steam ahead to keep up with the many ideas flowing freely. She plans on taking her work to higher levels and expanding her genres. Her main focus is giving her readers variety. Her works in progress include paranormal, fantasy and mainstream romance. Taking characters and watching them grow past what she’s imagined is her true passion.

www.mahalialevey.com
www.facebook.com/mahalialevey
www.twitter.com/hales3000
www.goodreads.com/mahalialevey

Fedora is the winner! Congratulations! ~DD

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Sandra Jones’s Casting Couch

I’m so excited to be a guest on Delilah’s blog. We’re in the same RWA chapter, and I can tell you, she’s a fabulous lady.

I’ve been writing the first draft of a new historical, and I’m spending countless hours online researching to get all the historical details correct. By day, I’m a librarian, so I find research half the fun anyway—I’m just weird like that, I know!

One thing that I can’t resist is finding pictures of actors who best fit the characters I envision. My current hero is based on a fairly popular actor, so finding pics of every angle and expression he wears is a breeze. Admittedly, I’m kinda crushing on him…but I think we’re all supposed to fall in love with our heroes at least a little. J

If I ever sell one of my stories for a movie, I’d be tempted to offer a few suggestions for the stars. For my casting couch, I’m looking for men who look great in chainmail, kilts, or cravats. Think Mr. Darcy, William Wallace, or Lancelot. Would the actor look alpha in a ruffled, unbuttoned shirt? If so, he’s my guy! Here are a few of my current obsessions:

Taylor Kitsch
Joe Maganiello
Gerard Butler
Ian Somerhold

Who would you want to see on a casting couch? Leave a comment for me on Delilah’s blog, and I’ll give one commenter a copy of the ebook!

The Author

Sandra Jones is the author of sensual historical romances. She worked as a bookseller and as a librarian, where she indulged in her love of old books. When not researching or writing, she enjoys being with family, reading, and watching British TV. A self-proclaimed history geek, she currently lives in a 1905 Greek revival home in the Mississippi Delta.

Sandra loves to hear from her readers: visit her website www.sandrajonesromance.com or on Twitter: sjonesromance Facebook or Pinterest

Sandra’s latest is HER CHRISTMAS KNIGHT, a medieval romance story included in FIVE GOLDEN RINGS: A CHRISTMAS COLLECTION, available in ebook now from Avon Impulse and in paperback in January.

FIVE GOLDEN RINGS

by Sophie Barnes, Karen Erickson, Rena Gregory, Sandra Jones, Vivienne Lorret

The holidays are a time for wishes, magic and, of course, love. Celebrate the season with this delightful collection of Christmas tales. What better way for Connor Talbot, Earl of Redfirn, to spend the holidays than convincing Leonora Compton that the only match she needs to make is with him!

The Duke of Ashton has had three years to plan for his perfect Christmas present—the Lady Eleanor Fitzsimmons as his wife. Now, all he has to do is convince the reluctant lady …

Phin Baldwin does not believe in Christmas magic … until the clever and beautiful Ginny Overton gets it into her head to show him how wonderful it can be when wishes come true.

Just returned from the Crusades, marriage is the last thing on Sir Caerwyn’s mind. But will he be able to resist Lady Nia, the thief of his boyhood heart, when she tempts him yet again?

Responsible Ethan Weatherstone is determined to save Penelope Rutledge—and her reputation—from her silly scheme, but can he save himself from the temptation of her lips?

Excerpt

He stepped away, leaving her still half-swallowed in the unfastened chain mail. God but she still stirred him, even dressed in pounds of armor. The shapeless form forced his eye to her beautiful face and made him long for the rest of her body hidden beneath. “Aye, you’ve become an excellent rider, skilled with a lance. But underneath all Padrig’s trappings, you’re still female.”

“I practice at the quintain more days than not, and I’m a good horsewoman. There was no combat in the event, so I was never in any danger. You must admit I convinced you.” Her face brightened and she stood straighter. “I’m sure you would say it was Serena’s influence again. Just like three years ago, the last night in our keep, before you left. You and I were to meet. When you arrived I wasn’t alone…”

His chest tightened. He’d kept the memory at bay for too long to let her remind him. He barked, “Now you want to tease me! Aye, you deceived me today, and you betrayed me then. What point are you trying to make?” Mayhap she enjoyed pushing the knife deeper into his heart.

 “Caerwyn, you’ve never believed me, but I’ll say it again. I’ve never been with another man. Look,” she turned her back to him, gathering her braids in one hand and twisting them up to hold on top of her head. “Do I look like a woman from behind now?”

“You know you do not.”

“I practice in mail often. My father disapproves, of course. Serena’s worn it only once. In armor, she would look like a man from behind, don’t you think?” She moved closer to the bed, took hold of the thick banister. When she glanced over her shoulder at him, the sight of her posture, so sensual, so seductive, yet so unpracticed…sweat glistened on his brow.

“Aye. I suppose…”

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A huge happy holidays to everyone, and a special thanks to Delilah for having me here so I can talk about my latest release, One Dom To Love. It’s the first of a new, super-sexy serialized tale called the Doms Of Her Life, about one tempestuous woman thoroughly in love with two men and their fight to see which Dom will come out on top. These characters are very special to me, and I had SO much fun writing this with my co-authors Jenna Jacob and Isabella LaPearl. We hope you enjoy them, too.

Since it’s December, and I know some of you are probably a little chilly (don’t even get me started on how much I hate winter), I thought I’d heat you up with a little blurb and excerpt from the book:

Raine Kendall has been in love with her boss, Macen Hammerman, for years. Determined to make the man notice that she’s a grown woman with desires and needs, she pours out her heart and offers her body to him—only to be crushingly rejected. But when his friend, very single, very sexy Liam O’Neill watches the other Dom refuse to act on his obvious feelings for Raine, he resolves to step in and do whatever it takes to help Hammer find happiness again, even rousing his friend’s possessive instincts by making the girl a proposition too tempting to refuse. But he never imagines that he’ll end up falling for her himself.

Hammer has buried his lust for Raine for years. After rescuing the budding runaway from an alley behind his exclusive BDSM Dungeon, he has come to covet the pretty submissive. But tragedy has taught him that he can never be what she needs. So he watches over her while struggling to keep his distance. Liam’s crafty plan blindsides Hammer, especially when he sees how determined his friend is to possess Raine for his own. Hammer isn’t ready to give the lovely submissive over to any other Dom, but can he heal from his past and fight for her? Or will he lose Raine if she truly gives herself—heart, body, and soul—to Liam?

EXCERPT

Raine drew in a shuddering breath. “You heard my argument with Hammer. I’m not very good at being submissive, I don’t think. When I lose my temper, I’m awful at controlling what I say. I mean to be good… I think I’m doomed to disappoint you.” For whatever reason, that thought nearly made her cry again. Her throat closed up. Embarrassment stung. “For my own selfish reasons, I want to say yes. But you’ve been beyond fair. I can’t be less so. The truth is, I probably can’t be what you want or need.”

He smiled gently. “We’ll never know unless we give it a whirl. I’ve the desire and patience to help you. What have you got to lose, lass?”

Hammer was already lost to her. “Nothing, I guess.”

“Precisely. We’ll have an enjoyable battle of wills, you and I. I promise, you’ll not be bored.”

A tremor passed through her when his broad hands surrounded her waist. This man could never be boring, not when he ignited every red-blooded cell in her body with a single touch.

“Take a chance, Raine,” he coaxed. “Have you not shed enough tears from these lovely eyes? You could do worse than a big bastard like me.” He chuckled, clearly trying to lighten the mood. “I’d try my best to make you feel good about yourself and the two of us together.” Read the rest of this entry »

Thank you Delilah for inviting us to cause chaos on your blog today. This is a release day for three of us and we can’t think of a better place to spend it! We know you love SciFi erotic romances as much as we do!

We thought we’d start from… well… the start, talking about the very first words readers see – our titles. Names are so important and the name of a story is no exception.

Christine d’Abo – Lust Rebooted

My story is a mix of erotic sci-fi, adventure with a dash of comedy. The main challenge that the heroine Zoe is faced with is the arrival of a sexbot named Sam and the jealous reaction from her sentient computer, Rupert. One wants what it can’t have, and the other has what it can’t appreciate. Zoe is faced with the choice of having to save one over the other when their computer mainframe is infected with a virus. I wanted a title that would show both the erotic nature of the book, and still somehow capture the computer elements.

Ria Candro – Bonded

I came up with the title for Bonded once I discovered the plot of my story. The heroine, Inara, has a mission to complete, and discovering she’s meant to be mated to a pod of Spygians goes against everything she’s planned. Much as she’d love to indulge with these dreamy hunks, she can’t afford to be sidetracked.

Here’s a brief excerpt from the story highlighting her dilemma:

Ah, that was right. How could she forget about the Spygian mating ritual? She didn’t know much about it, other than that all pod members were to be present. The thought of what it might possibly entail sent a shiver of lust raging through her body. She almost wished she truly was his mate…

Forcing herself to stand straight and strong, she looked him in the eye. “I’m afraid we have a problem then, for I cannot promise anything more than a night of bliss.”

She barely had time to see his face fall in clear disappointment before the leaves crackled and Valeron appeared in the clearing, his arms full of dead branches. Reading the tension in the air, he stopped cold, his gaze going from her to Neichon and back again.

Finally he moved toward the center of the clearing and dropped the branches to the ground. “We’ll probably need another batch.”

“It’s already growing dark.” Neichon’s gaze lifted upward, to where the pink and purple fingers of dusk already crept across the sky. “I’ll get some more wood and check for sight of the Malucons while I’m at it.”

As Inara watched him leave the clearing, she fought the unaccountable feeling that she’d just let something magical go. That was a ridiculous notion. She had her own destiny, and it was not to be bonded to a pod of barbarians. No matter how sexy, delicious, and utterly f***able those barbarians might be.

Of course her Spygians are determined to convince her she’s right where she belongs.

A.M. Griffin – Dangerously Mine

Dangerously Mine was originally a self-pub called Taken: Eva. When I got picked up by Ellora’s Cave I had to change the name because they already had a book named Taken. Per their policy, they don’t publish books with the same title, which is a really good policy. I can’t be expected to compete against Jaid Black.

I have to admit, titling didn’t come easy for me. Many of my author friends actually have expressed joy with titling their works (which makes me want to hurt them).

Mine was easy to come up with. Eva Smith is taken from Earth and sold into slavery to an alien. She’s petite and feisty, so being anyone’s slave was not sitting well with her. Throughout the book she is constantly reminding Taio (her owner) that she is not his slave. Taio of course doesn’t believe a word of it. Regardless of what Eva thinks or says, Taio has claimed Eva for himself.

Dangerously took more work to come up with, but when it finally popped into my head it clicked. Eva is a martial arts expert and as I said before, doesn’t want to be owned or controlled by anyone. She finds herself in a couple of fight scenes, one of which she ends up killing one of Taio’s Royal Guards.

Hence, the title Dangerously Mine was born!

Cynthia Sax – Warlord’s Bounty

Khan, the hero of Warlord’s Bounty, is the Warlord of Chamele 2, the richest and, in Khan’s opinion, the best planet in the Chamele system. This has made Khan a target. He has a huge bounty on his head, placed there by his enemy. Zeta, the heroine, is a feisty bounty hunter, seeking to collect the bounty on Khan. Although she is aware of the saying “the bigger the bounty, the more dangerous the fugitive”, she needs the credits for a bounty-hunter school she supports. She’s determined to get her big, bad male, in more ways than one.

Warlord’s Bounty was the perfect title, a marriage between the careers of a strong heroine and an even stronger hero. It was also a nod to Delilah’s wonderful Warlord’s Destiny which I absolutely LOVED. Lord Tetrik was a yummy hero, very much a Warlord.

Writers, what are the stories behind your titles? Readers, what are some of the best titles you’ve read?

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Lust Rebooted

By: Christine d’Abo

Zoe is all alone on an outpost monitoring a lonely quadrant of space. It’s nearly Christmas and all she has for company is her computer AI, Rupert. She isn’t expecting a present from Xion Corporation to help pass the time, but when she opens the box to find a sex bot, a whole world of steamy entertainment possibilities come to mind.

When Zoe activates Sam she doesn’t realize the trouble she’s in for. Sam takes Zoe to sexy new heights and Rupert does a stellar impersonation of a jealous boyfriend. Zoe struggles to ground herself in reality despite her growing lust, but it’s becoming more and more obvious she’s falling in love. But with who—Sam or Rupert?

When a computer virus is unleashed on the outpost, Zoe must choose—or risk losing them both.

Buy Link:
http://www.ellorascave.com/lust-rebooted.html

Christine d’Abo’s Website:
http://christinedabo.com/

Bonded

By: Ria Candro

When Inara crash lands on a deserted planet, the last thing she expects is to run into two stunning men from the planet Spygia—who claim she is their mate. While she’d love nothing more than to indulge in a steamy encounter—or two or three—with these gorgeous hunks, she’s on the run from the barbaric Malucons who decimated her home planet of Chivea. And she’s on a mission to find her cousin, the only other Chivean survivor. Nothing, not even the promise of paradise to be found in the Spygians’ arms, is going to stop her.

When Inara refuses to be bonded to them, Neichon and Valeron strive to uncover what secrets she’s hiding before they unveil a few of their own. How will their reluctant mate react when she learns she’s destined for, not two, but four Spygian men?

Buy Link:
http://www.ellorascave.com/bonded.html

Ria Candro’s Website:
http://riacandro.wordpress.com/

Dangerously Mine

By: A. M. Griffin

After aliens invade and conquer Earth, Eva is transported to a distant slave trading planet. Escape and freedom are her only priority, but none of her martial arts training prepared her for what she faces. She finds herself enslaved to the warrior King Taio. Eva’s drawn to this sexy alien male who ignites her heart and body.

Taio is disgusted with the idea of owning a slave—until now. From the moment he sees her, he knows Eva is his for the taking. Torn between lust and duty, Taio knows nothing will stop him from protecting his little warrior.

Buy Link:
http://www.ellorascave.com/dangerously-mine.html

A.M. Griffin’s Website:
http://www.amgriffinbooks.com/

Warlord’s Bounty

By: Cynthia Sax

The bigger the bounty, the more dangerous the fugitive.

Khan, a Chamele warlord, has a huge bounty on his head. His enemy is willing to pay an outrageous amount to secure him. Khan wants to be apprehended, especially if the bounty hunter capturing him is a brown-eyed female with razor-sharp daggers and an even sharper tongue. He’ll allow her to subdue him sexually, his passion and prowess not inhibited by restraints, and when she collects her bounty, he’ll collect his revenge, killing his enemy and claiming his little bounty hunter forever.

Zeta doesn’t do forever. She captures the worst scum in the galaxy and trades them for credits. Khan is fierce and sexy and the most dominant male she has ever encountered, but he is also a fugitive, and once she sates herself with his body, she’ll betray him. It is her job.

Buy Link:
http://www.ellorascave.com/warlord-s-bounty.html

Cynthia Sax’s Website:
http://cynthiasax.com/

Eeks! I was supposed to post this on Sunday, but you know I’ve been working so hard it completely slipped my mind! Sorry, JoAnne! The blog tour continues…

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Irish Kisses Pub Quiz — post 3

Today’s Question: Band-Aid’s Do They Know It’s Christmas, the UK Christmas chart-topping record was to raise funds for… what?

HOT WINTER KISS Released 30th November 2012

Book four in the bestselling Irish Kisses series.

Tasty treats await you.

PARINGS: m/f
FLAME RATING: four
GENRE: contemporary romance
PUBLISHER: www.decadentpublishing.com
PAGE COUNT: 47
CONTENT: May to December / Tinsel Play / Irish Castle / Snowed In / Holiday Romance

Hot winter kisses to warm broken hearts….

Sick of tending to everyone else’s needs around the holidays, divorced barmaid and granny Sandra ferries it from London to Belfast. All she wants for Christmas is some peace with a romance story in front of a roaring fire in a remote Irish castle. What she gets is a most unexpected Christmas present from her friends at Bell’s—A 1Night Stand with a young Irishman.

Can she hack it in the real world of romance, or are life’s complications and treacherous snowstorms best left to the pages of a book?

Newly widowed Ardan Draighean owns Ballygalley castle. Once run as a hotel with his late wife, the stone building now serves as a home for him and his son. After hearing about Madame Eve’s matchmaking skills, he contacts her in search of the perfect match. Although much older than him—by fifteen years—Sandra is his ideal woman. He be damned if he’ll let a good story get in the way of his happy ever after with her.

Hot winter kisses are all this couple needs to stay warm this Christmas, but will the heat stay long after the magical season of mistletoe has finished?

AMAZON US: http://www.amazon.com/lm/R2WFCBFWNDA9ZI
MORE BUYLINKS: http://www.joannekenrick.com/p/hot-winter-kiss.html

HOT WINTER KISS Chapter one, part two

She refused to head back to London to spend her time off babysitting her grandchildren while her daughter and son-in-law enjoyed themselves, as she did every year. She loved the little ones, but this once, she’d decided to put herself first. Shaun—her boss back at Bell’s Irish Pub in London—may have thought himself clever by suggesting Irish castle hopping, but he hadn’t considered Sandra’s Law. If anything can go wrong, it will.

She pulled out her mobile—she had programmed in the number for her hotels in case of an emergency—and hit speed dial. An Irish lady on reception answered and rushed to arrange a car to pick her up from nearby Laverty’s pub. The driver would take maybe an hour and a half to reach her, but she’d be waiting in the warmth and be at her destination before hot cocoa time. The lady had even offered a bowl of soup upon arrival, although the kitchen had closed.

With the promise of peace ahead of her again, she immersed herself in the seasonal spirit surrounding her. Even threw a couple of pound coins in the Salvation Army’s collection box and requested they play “White Christmas.” The group in their stern navy outfits and funky hats changed sheet music and piped out her request. Stupid idea. She cursed herself for wallowing in holiday misery and tried to block the image of her ex-husband down on one knee while he presented a ring box to her on Christmas Eve. Seemed like only a year had passed since she last kissed him. Other times, it was as if he’d been gone forever.

She clutched at her empty ring finger and a shudder raced over her. “Too fanciful. I expected a ‘fairytale romance,’ he said. Pft, what does he know? Romance does exist…and not just in storybooks. I will find love. I will.”

Four children scurrying past her with grins and rosy cheeks nearly knocked her to the ground. A woman lagged behind, weighed down by dozens of bags. Sandra offered to help, but the lady moved past, her face a mask of stress, and didn’t respond. Maybe she was mentally checking she had the stuffing and trimmings for the family feast. Heck, she’d usually be in the same shoes this time of year. Instead, she’d nothing but herself to think about. She tugged the woolen scarf tighter around her neck before turning the corner and crossing the road to Laverty’s.

To be continued in Irish Pub Quiz post 3, Laura Kaye’s blog (link in rafflecopter)

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About the Author

Born n bred Brit, JoAnne Kenrick grew up in a wee sea-side town in North Wales and has enjoyed a variety of vocations such as holistic healer, window dresser, and ghost tour guide. Having lived in Wales, England, and Scotland with her dear family, she finally escaped the dull British summers to reside in sunny Australia. After two years, they moved to the States where she endured three harsh winters in Minnesota. She now lives in North Carolina with her husband, two kids and two puddy cats. When they aren’t demanding her attention, or jumping on her head, she strums away on the keys of her little laptop, creating worlds and adventures she could only ever dream of. Come across the pond and faraway….with JoAnne Kenrick! www.joannekenrick.com

Get exclusive sneak peeks at her new and upcoming releases by signing up to her quarterly newsletter here: http://tinyletter.com/joannekenrick