Today’s round of snippets are all about fight scenes. Here’s one of my faves.

Post a comment today and enter a drawing to win a free download of this story!

“…STONE’S EMBRACE is a wonderfully descriptive story…The mix of Greek mythology with Christian elements is intriguing and adds to the subtle layering of eroticism and exoticism…this story is fantastic and a super-hot read!” ~5 Angels, Fallen Angels Reviews

“…The sex in the book was off the charts hot!…It was a wonderfully different story with a strong characters and a fun plot that left this reviewer breathless!” ~5 Stars, Just Erotic Romances

Lust trapped them in darkness…only love can free them…

Petra Pedersen has lived as a recluse all her life thanks to a genetic double whammy—a strange deformity and a shameful power inherited from the father she will never know. The power to incite lust in men and women with just a touch.

Exploring the garden of the mansion she’s just inherited, she comes across a fascinating stone gargoyle whose raw, passionate expression draws her to caress its broad chest. Her imagination follows her fluttering fingers. As she closes her eyes and gives herself up to the arousal, something shifts beneath her touch.

Long ago, failure to stop a demon battle trapped Octavius in a prison of stone. Freed by the woman’s incendiary touch, he doesn’t hesitate to unleash his pent-up rage and desire in a blistering fury. Yet once the haze of lust clears, he discovers he isn’t really free after all.

They are both trapped in another realm where he must choose between his last chance for redemption or returning Petra home…

Warning: Sex with inanimate objects, lusty m/m/f ménages with gods…it’s all good when the reward is freedom.

Louisiana 1909

Octavius rammed his shoulder against the heavy oak door. The lock and hinges gave and the door crashed backward with a satisfying thud, raising dust that sifted through the air like silver-gilt fireflies in the moonlight. Wary, he stepped across the threshold. Inside, the house was dark, the air thick—too heavy to be natural.

He knew, without reeling in the psychic tether that kept him chained to the Grigori, that Bacclum was here. That the bastard had found the demon. He prayed he wasn’t too late to save Bacclum from his own insatiable lust for power. The consequences of his failure would mean his own end.

He should have known that Bacclum planned mischief that night. The mixed-blood angel had been too eager to see Octavius take a rare walk among humans, encouraging him to attend a masked ball at a wealthy residence inside the French Quarter.

While Octavius had enjoyed the rare opportunity to mingle among sweet-smelling women, secretly laughing as he pretended a lever inside his vest controlled the movement of his wings and thrilling to the many strokes of soft hands along his ribbed folds, Bacclum had snuck away. But not before he’d assured himself that his watcher’s vigilance had been dulled by the herbs stirred into his drink. If Octavius hadn’t noted the uneasy glances of the sloe-eyed woman who’d gulled him, he might have drunk the full measure. As it was, his head still swam and his loins throbbed with unabated lust.

The sound of crashing furniture and the low rumble of a masculine voice drew him up the staircase and down a hallway toward the sliver of golden light, fanning outward from a partially opened doorway. Sliding his back close to the wall, he gently pushed open the door and peered around the corner into a room lined with shelves of books.

Bacclum’s dark head was bent toward his chest, his thighs braced around the demon, his hands wrapped around a straining throat.

I’m not too late, thank the gods. “Let go, Bacclum!” Octavius growled as he stalked toward the Grigori steadily strangling the demon he clasped. Read the rest of this entry »

Seeds of Inspiration

First, let me take a moment to thank Ms. Delilah Devlin for inviting me to guest post on her blog. I cannot express enough my gratitude for her selfless support for those of us striving to amp up our writing successes. You’ve made all the difference, Delilah, and you are much appreciated.

Now, what I thought I’d talk about today are those triggers that spark our story ideas. So many times readers express their amazement on how writers come up with all these great story ideas.

I’m not sure why it baffles them so much. You’d think real life wasn’t strange enough to provide an endless stream of ideas. Really?

Anyway, I thought I’d throw a few of mine out there, and then maybe you could add some of yours. If nothing else, it should be entertaining. If we’re lucky, this conversation will spark something in those of us searching for our next great seedling.

My current WIP began when I watched a Sunday afternoon Lifetime Network Movie about a girl who pretended to be pregnant for a school project. Lately, the notion of broken couples reuniting has been a burning theme in my soul. Thus, Parent Project is born. This one’s still in the early stage, but you can probably imagine where I’m going with it.

Shaken Vows merely began with a brief conversation between our hunky sheriff and my husband at the gas pump while I sat in the truck observing, and conjured up all kinds of possibilities.

On another occasion, for hours I stared at a white page on a pathetically blank screen. Nothing seemed to be working that day. So, I thought about the books I’ve read, and what made the exceptional ones memorable. Searching through my bookcase, I pulled out a novel that I remember had brought me great joy. This was when they used paper with the printed words on the pages. Ancient, I know.

The scene opened with the hero walking in on his fiancé in bed with another. So, sparked Reckless Dreams. Of course, it’s my own story, with a completely different plot, but the seed came from one of my favorite novels.

Then, of course, we had a fire next door. A boatload of hunky firefighters, cops, and other officials came to the scene. Before the embers burned down, Familiar Flames began germinating.

That’s enough about me, and mine. How about letting us know what sparks your ideas. Who knows, it could boost those creative juices in all of us.

Hope you enjoyed my post, and I look forward to hearing what you think.

Thanks again, Delilah, for having me. It’s great being part of your circle of friends!

Please come visit me anytime at my place. I would love to have you:

Joyce
https://joycepalmer.net

Thanks to Delilah for inviting me here today. I admire her so much. She not only writes a lot of books, she writes damn good books.

I just started a new series, Miracle Interrupted, and the first story, MUST WORSHIP CATS, is a novella that introduces the village of Miracle, Wisconsin, with a population of 629. Some of the quirky people of the town are introduced as well. It’s all in a cat’s point of view, so there are no sex scenes. But in the next story…

STARDUST MIRACLE is a contemporary with magical elements. There are a few sex scenes on the tamer side, but at one time I called it ‘the penis book,’ because I used the term so often. The frequent use of the word wasn’t on purpose. It just came up. (Pun intended.) It starts when the heroine, Becky, catches her minister husband with another woman.

I just counted and I used ‘penis’ 12 times and ‘erection’ 5 times. I’d changed some of the ‘penis’ mentions to ‘erection’ during a revision, because I really don’t want everyone to think of it as ‘the penis book.’ I’d much rather them think of it as the book they loved and can’t wait to read the next story in the series (which will be out in July).

Here’s an excerpt from STARDUST MIRACLE that shows the first ‘penis’ scene after Becky bursts into her husband’s office at church, with the intention to surprise her husband:

Sitting on his couch, wearing only his white shirt, Jim stared at her as if she were his worst nightmare. So did Diana Kellman, who wore nothing, her brunette head lifting from his lap. Her fingers wrapped around his erect penis.

Becky put her hand over her mouth. She wanted to puke. She wanted to scream. She wanted to cry. But all she could do was stand there, a long, low moan ripping out of her throat. The sound of an animal in pain.

“Becky.” Jim put his open hand on Diana’s head and shoved her away from him. Diana fell on her butt on the gray and blue striped rug that Becky had found for Jim four years ago at an estate sale in Wausau. Diana squealed as Jim grabbed his pants and stood.

“It’s not what it seems.” Jim held his pants over his penis. As if Becky hadn’t seen it before.

Becky welcomed a hot rush of whirling anger. No, not anger. Fury. She took a deep, shuddering breath. The excitement was gone. The moan gone. The feeling that she’d been stabbed in the heart… Gone.

“You mean you weren’t getting a blow job?” she asked, and her voice only shook a little. She glanced at Diana, who was scrambling to her feet. Becky turned her head away and spotted Jim’s cell phone on his walnut desk. Instead of running out of the office, she crossed to the desk.

“Please, Becky,” Jim said. “We can talk.”

She heard the clink of his belt and without even thinking, as if something from above guided her, she picked up the cell phone, clicked on the camera, and whipped around, holding the phone like a weapon.

“Becky, no!” Jim shouted, one foot raised to put inside his pants leg, his penis not erect anymore but not completely flaccid, hanging in a curve like a tired rubber hose.

Diana was bent over, reaching for her panties, her butt toward Becky, but at Jim’s shout she glanced behind her.

Becky snapped the camera.

I hope you enjoyed the excerpt. I’m curious. What would you do if you walked in on a scene like this?

One commenter will win a digital copy of STARDUST MIRACLE.

Edie Ramer
https://edieramer.com

I’m on a roll with tons of pages to write today. So I’ll keep it simple…

If you were given a $100 gift certificate to spend in any store,
where would you chose to redeem it and on what?

Evelyn is the winner of the free download. I’ve sent Kathleen her email address!
Thanks everyone for playing! ~DD

LET’S TALK CHOCOLATE

Delilah, thanks so much for inviting me to stop by your blog today. I’m excited to be here! I think we all agree that it goes without saying that Delilah is a master (mistress?) when it comes to erotic romance. Unfortunately, I can’t say the same about myself. I concentrate on Women’s Fiction, and you’ll find my books much tamer than Delilah’s. In fact, I only recently lost my virginity (when it comes to blog-writing, that is!).

Fatty Patty is my debut novel, released on May 15^th. Patty Perreault is the overweight heroine whose childhood nickname was Fatty Patty. Though she’s now an adult, Patty still remembers the cruel childhood taunts from the very same school playground where she’s now a teacher. The novel deals with Patty’s struggle to confront her self-esteem issues, put down the fork and give her heart a try. But poor Patty has a real problem with food… specifically, chocolate.

So, let’s talk chocolate. It’s like a wonder drug, a magic elixir that tastes great. Chocolate soothes. Chocolate calms. And chocolate can also magically add an extra layer of fat to your thighs overnight. Believe me, I know what I’m talking about. When I was in high school, I weighed 300 lbs. People back then said ‘You carry it well’, but I suppose that’s because I’m 5’11” and the pounds were spread over a larger frame. But facts are facts, and the fact is that for years, I wore size 28+ pants. I lost the extra pounds more than thirty years ago, and now easily fit into a size 10. How did I do it? I loved chocolate so much, I decided I’d be better off if I gave it up for good. But it wasn’t easy saying goodbye to one of my favorite foods. According to my research, chocolate is the number one food American women crave. Chocolate stimulates endorphin production, triggering happiness and pleasure. It also contains serotonin (an anti-depressant), theobromine and caffeine (stimulants), plus it’s loaded with antioxidants (protecting against aging).

Here’s a little excerpt describing some of Patty’s inner turmoil when it comes to dealing with chocolate.

EXCERPT FROM FATTY PATTY:

I don’t drink, I don’t smoke, I don’t do drugs. If chocolate is like a drug, I probably qualify for Chocoholics Anonymous. But first, I’d have to be willing to give it up. Which I’m not. I’m not an addict. Besides, everyone deserves a treat now and then. And I’ve been good for so long—how many days now?— and I’ve only lost four pounds.

Tyler offering me that cookie on the playground earlier this morning started the ball rolling. All day long, I couldn’t let go of the thought of chocolate. And instead of hitting the pool on my way home from school, I detoured to an out-of-the-way party store on the other side of town where I grabbed a six-pack of my favorite candy bars. Why? There’s got to be a reason. But at the time, I didn’t want to think about the why. I didn’t want to think, period.

I just wanted the chocolate.

The first candy bar was gone as soon as I hit the car, before I even fastened my seatbelt. I barely tasted it as it slid down my throat and it only whetted my appetite for more. I ripped into the lush caramel and rich dark chocolate of the second one as I nosed the car out of the parking lot. I gnawed through the third wrapper with my teeth as I pulled into traffic.

And now that Priscilla’s finally off to bed, the other three are waiting.

I creep up the stairs, school bag in hand, and slip through my bedroom door. I throw the lock, then flop on the bed in the darkness. Moonlight filtering through the window is my only witness as I peel the wrapper off the fourth candy bar, settle back in the pillows and savor the lush sweetness filling my mouth. I’ve deprived myself far too long. The second gooey bite is even better than the first. Chocolate bliss. I’ve died and gone to heaven.

Polishing off the fifth candy bar takes a little longer. The craving is gone and I force myself to finish. I’m in no rush to unwrap the sixth candy bar. My stomach feels queasy. Maybe it would be better to stash it somewhere and save it for later. But if I don’t eat it now, that one last candy bar will be staring me in the face tomorrow morning… a big gooey reminder of what I’ve done. I rip off the wrapper and stare at the chocolate. Tomorrow, I promise myself. Starting tomorrow, I’ll put myself on a brand new diet. Starting with breakfast.

Food. Ugh. My stomach lurches and I drop the candy bar. My breath reeks of chocolate and I stumble into the tiny bathroom off my bedroom. I use my toothbrush like a weapon, attacking the enemy sugar on my teeth, scrubbing away the contraband. I swish water back and forth under my tongue, around my teeth, spit it in the sink. Somehow I find the courage to face myself in the mirror. It’s not a pretty picture. Hollow, bloodshot eyes; mascara staining my face. I don’t recognize this person.

What is wrong with me? Why in God’s name did I do this? What happened to my resolve? What happened to my dreams of being thin?

What would Nick think if he saw me like this?

No more chocolate. Never again.
Read the rest of this entry »

Yesterday’s Winner!

The winner (by random number generator of the free download of Handy Men is…#6: Nina! Nina, send me an email to arrange delivery of your prize!

Sunday Report Card

Not a stellar week. I completed two chapters on my paranormal story and one chapter for the Samhain Western. I put together the After Midnight Fantasies newsletter and participated in a “Live Chat with the Pros” for ERWA. And I’ve been working on promo for my upcoming releases, She Shifters and Cowboy Lust.

This next week, I need a minimum of 4 chapters’ progress on the paranormal. Three chapters on the western. If I don’t, I have to do the walk of shame, because I’ll be boxed into a corner with my deadlines. So send those positive thoughts!

Sneak Peek at Fournicopia

First, isn’t it the greatest title ever?! How about this logline?

Here’s what happens when a cop meets the doughnut girl of his dreams…
and she’s a Domme…

Did it make you smile? Intrigue you? Then it worked!

How about this cover?

Not the handsomest guy, but I love that he looks like he’s surrendering to her. That’s what Gus does in this book. Want to meet my boy? Read on…

Unedited excerpt from Fournicopia:

Gus Taggert knew it was a cliché. A cop in a doughnut shop. The officers waiting for him to arrive for the sergeant’s morning meeting didn’t like making the run because of the inevitable roll of the eyes or smartass grin they’d get standing in line.

However, he didn’t mind being the “doughnut guy”. The plus for being the brunt of any jokes was that he ate for free. That was okay with him. He took any pointed looks or lame jokes in stride. He was an affable guy. Hard to rile.

He’d learned long ago to stifle his anger and look for the good in people, even when they messed up. Being oversized and strong, he’d always had to be more careful throwing his weight around. People could get hurt, and that wasn’t why he’d been drawn to law enforcement. He wasn’t a bully in a uniform.

Gus liked being a cop. Liked what it stood for. Loved the dark navy uniform and the camaraderie of his brother cops. He didn’t mind that his closest buds were all moving on to bigger and better things. He liked being a beat cop. Liked patrolling the neighborhood he lived in and getting to know the people he protected.

His father had been a small-town cop, and his father before him had been the sheriff of their little Arkansas berg. But then his mom had moved to Memphis—not because she’d wanted to, but because when his mom and dad divorced, she’d wanted to start fresh where everyone didn’t know her business and didn’t whisper to her ex about who she was seeing next.

Gus had missed his old school and friends, but had a natural gift for making new ones. That he was big and brawny, quick on his feet despite his size, had made him a natural for the football team.

And that’s where he’d met Jackson Teague and Craig Eason, who surprisingly enough wanted to be cops, too, when they graduated.

They’d all gone to college together, applied for the police academy and been accepted. That’s where they’d met the remaining members of their current posse, Beau McIntyre and Mondo Acevedo.

So, Gus was never lonely. He had his peeps, a job he loved, a city that kept him on his toes. And today, he was on his way to explore a new doughnut shop.

Mondo, although now in vice and no longer attending the station-house morning meetings, had given him a roll of bills the night before. “Treat the guys to doughnuts. On me.”

Gus had glanced at the roll. “This is too much.”

“Not for the place I want you to go.”

He should have known from the gleam in Mondo’s dark brown eyes that something was up, but Gus liked to think the best of people. Maybe Mondo really did just want to treat the guys to something special.

Well, it was special all right. Not like any doughnut shop Gus had ever seen before. He stood on the street in front of the small store front, eyeing the painted glass window with its pink awning, and felt the first rumbles of misgiving.
Read the rest of this entry »

Answer: Revenge Sex. Nuff said, right?

“Ok, first I am going to contact Delilah and see if she has the number for “Handy Men” because I have some things I just know they can take care of.” ~ 5 Stars and TOP PICK!, Night Owl Reviews

“Delilah Devlin’s stories are always fun, entertaining and totally hot. Bringing together unsuspecting people is what she does best. No one even can come close. Grab the lounge chair, put on some SPF 40 and spend some time with her sexy, sweaty and provocative playmates. You won’t regret it!!” ~ 4 Cherries, Long and Short Reviews

“Ms. Devlin has eroticism dripping from the pages of HANDY MEN!… HANDY MEN is sexy, sizzling and sinfully good!” ~ Joyfully Reviewed

“HANDY MEN packs a lot of punch with very few pages. The characters are three dimensional, well developed and their sexual encounters are off the charts.” ~ Lynette’s Two Cents

Two very handy men mend a divorcée’s broken heart…

Rather than cry over spilt milk, a newly divorced woman throws caution to the wind and decides to seduce her neighbor’s handsome handy man.

Jeff isn’t stupid—Pamela tossed those screws into her sink to get his attention! The fact she’s beautiful and vulnerable convinces him she needs “special” attention. When he has her hot and horny, he surprises her with his partner Casey and a threesome.

What starts for Pamela as a wild, no-holds-barred fling quickly gets stickier as the guys push for something longer lasting.

The impulse came like a flash of lightning—hot and searing—all the way to the bone. An idea born of a need she hadn’t felt in a long, long time…and inspired by one red-hot handyman in butt-hugging jeans and a t-shirt.

The man fired the militant gleam in her eyes as she brushed bronzing powder across her cheeks and swiped carmine “eat me” red lip stain across her mouth. She didn’t give herself time to rethink the decision, reaching for the phone before her usual, cautious self reasserted control. No more couch potato cry-ins for her. No more self-imposed exclusion while she figured out what to do with the rest of her life. Today, a new Pamela Dwyer was reaching for the damn gusto.

The anger felt good. Especially after the shock she’d received moments ago when she’d surfed the web for the latest gossip about her ex.

One glance at Andrew’s Facebook page, and Pamela’s confusion over what the hell had happened to her life dried up. He’d blocked her from his page, but his profile picture had been changed from Andrew’s handsome, craggy face to the soft innocence of his newborn son’s.

The picture said it all. And no doubt every one of their friends here in Austin, who’d rallied around her when he’d left, would now pour out their congratulations to him while privately agreeing he’d done the only thing he could do to be happy.

Tears had stung her eyes, but she’d refused to let them fall. Instead, she’d blinked them away, closed out the screen and glanced through the blinds at her immaculate lawn. The perfect lawn and landscaping to surround the perfectly appointed house she’d won in the divorce settlement.

But back to that lightning strike… Read the rest of this entry »