I decided to give a present to myself after Christmas…well it wasn’t really a Christmas present per se, but it was definitely a present. Something I’ve been wanting for a really long time. Sixteen years to be exact.
And what was it you ask?
A tattoo. *super cheesy grins and a happy dance and a curtsy all rolled into one*
It’s a set of rainbow butterflies (five of them) and a set of pink hearts (two of them) that are in an arc around the curve of my left breast. And before you ask – no I’m not going to post a picture. Don’t want to offend any of your innocent sensibilities!! *grins*
And each piece of it means something to me and that’s why I placed it close to my heart. It’s a reminder to be true to myself, and be who I am and F**CKING own it! Every second of every day!
And what’s SO awesome is this is a…let’s call it a trial tattoo…I already have a small butterfly on my back (my nickname growing up was butterfly – thus the obsession with butterfly ink) and I want quite a bit more ink on my back. This piece is to make sure my body can handle the ink and isn’t allergic to it so many years later.
And that brings me back to sixteen years in the making. I got my butterfly tattoo two months or so after I turned 18 when I’d just started the journey of finding me. I’ve wanted more ink ever since, but I didn’t want a tattoo just to get one though I’ve been tempted once or twice. I want every drop of ink in my skin to mean something. Not just something, something important. And now I’ve got that, and the next step in my journey is going to be a VERY colorful one!!!
Hopefully, by my next post in Feb I might actually have pics to share of the tattoo on my back! Sure hope so!!
To spread a little leftover Christmas cheer I’m going to give away some swag of goodies and maybe a few naughty additions just because I can!
All you’ve got to do is comment to win! Tell me your favorite tattoo story, your own, or someone else’s, or a tattoo you have or want to get! Seriously, if it involves a tattoo it counts!
Members Only, Book Three
Skye has spent her life being the perfect daughter for her prominent, wealthy parents. She says all the right things, wears all the right clothes…and lies through her teeth about the kind of sex she needs. The bland “gentlemen” she dates don’t know a thing about what gets her going—and when they find out, they run screaming. In her deepest, naughtiest dreams, she finds a man…or two…who knows just how to tie her up and tease her until she’s begging for more. But those guys don’t really exist, do they?
Jackson wants one thing for Christmas, and her name is Skye. He’s watched her from afar for ages, biding his time, waiting for his chance to give her the kind of pleasure she craves. And this Christmas he’s going to get his way. He’s enlisted his buddy Nick and the two of them are going to give Skye a holiday treat she’ll never forget.
Inside Scoop: This holiday threesome features bondage and spanking benches…and creates whole new uses for Christmas lights and candy canes.
A Romantica® BDSM erotic romance from Ellora’s Cave
Jennifer Kacey is a wife, mother, and business owner living with her family in Texas. She sings in the shower, plays piano in her dreams, and has to have a different color of nail polish every week. The best advice she’s ever been given? Find the real you and never settle for anything less.
UPDATE! Pam Howell is the winner of The Pulse! Congrats, Pam!
* * * * *
So What Happened To That Other Chick?
Do you ever read a book, and it wraps up nicely and all, but you can’t help but wonder what happened to the heroine’s best friend? The one that kinda stole the show a bit?
That’s what happened to me after I wrote The Pulse, Book 1 in the Pulse Trilogy. I couldn’t stop thinking about Jenna, Emily’s roommate on the Tracks, where they lived together in the FEMA camp set up in Grand Central Terminal, selling their bodies to the soldiers for an extra ration.
Jenna was fun for me, because while Emily was able to accurately look at the horror going on around them in my dystopian, post-apocalyptic New York City, Jenna looked at the exact same situation as one big opportunity. She was an office manager before The Pulse hit— but she came into her own on the Tracks, quite enjoying her myriad of sexual adventures, thankyouverymuch.
So when, in The Escape, Book 2 in the Pulse Trilogy, the wool is pulled from Jenna’s eyes, and the truth closes in around her—that she’s in danger, and better run, fast—everything changes.
I loved having the opportunity to take a woman like Jenna out of her element (because, for her at least, she was very much in her element in the camp) and take everything from her. Put her on the run. Have her chased by the sexy soldier sent to capture her and bring her back to the Tracks.
Because, you know, I like to mess with my heroines. Getting them into trouble is half the fun. And when Jenna can’t manipulate Private Barker and must team up with him instead, well… smexytimes abound 😉
If you haven’t yet read The Pulse, Book 1 in the Pulse Trilogy, I’m gifting a digital copy to one commenter today.And if you haven’t read The Escape, Book 2, yet… take a look, because it just released from Simon & Schuster Pocket Star on Amazon, B&N,iBooks, Amazon UK and wherever ebooks are sold 🙂
Here’s the blurb for The Escape, Book 2 in the Pulse Trilogy:
In Book Two of the erotic dystopian Pulse Trilogy, Jenna escapes New York City only to be tracked down by a soldier who might be her only hope of survival.
Jenna doesn’t know if she believes what Emily and Mason told her—that America is rebuilding and a better life awaits her outside of Manhattan. But with the power grid down and no connection to the outside world, Jenna will die if she stays at Grand Central’s FEMA camp, selling her body to soldiers.
Private Ken Barker is sent to capture Jenna when she escapes—but Jenna knows he’s one of the good guys and tries to seduce him into joining her. Their passionate sex kindles something even stronger than lust between them, and when Barker goes back to Grand Central he sees the horrors there with new eyes.
Now it’s his turn to escape the city, and he knows he must take Jenna with him or she’ll die at the camp. On the road, they’ll start a new life together, hoping against hope that the electricity between them will prove more than just a spark—that together they might finally light up their dark nights.
****And now, an adults-only excerpt you won’t find in the sample pages!
Barker couldn’t tear his eyes away from her full breasts, naked and so beautiful. It had been too long. God, how he wanted to wrap her in his arms and forget everything, for just one night.
No. Don’t do it. You can’t do it.
“Put your shirt on, Jenna.” He turned his back to her, confident she wouldn’t escape in the pitch-blackness outside the room, not with the way she’d clung to him earlier.
He waited for her to tease him again, but she didn’t. He heard the sounds of her putting her shirt on. The bed creaked when she sat on it.
“I must really disgust you,” she said softly. “I’m sorry.”
“No,” he said, swallowing hard. “You do not disgust me. Not at all.” He knelt down on the carpet and looked up at her pretty face. “You’re incredibly beautiful, Jenna. I want you, I do. But I refuse to take advantage of you.”
“I’m offering myself to you.”
“Would you have done that back in the day? Before the Pulse?”
“Everything’s different now.”
Barker got up and sat beside her on the bed. “Everything’s different, but I’m not. At least, I’m trying not to be.”
“See?” Jenna wrapped her arms around him, surprising him with the ferocity of her embrace. “You’re a good guy, Barker. You don’t want me to die. Don’t take me back there.”
Her body felt so good pressed against his, so right. Here, unlike the Tracks, they’d have real privacy. A bed. They could lose themselves in each other’s arms and pretend everything was normal, if only for a few hours.
“Are you hungry?” he asked. “I have food, in my bag. Water.”
“Yes.” Her voice sounded so small, like a child.
He pulled his bag on the bed and opened it. “I have a sleeping bag. We’ll use that as a blanket, okay? On the bed.”
Jenna smiled. “That sounds lovely. I haven’t slept on a proper bed in a long time.”
Barker smiled back. “I have two weeks of rations, because they didn’t know how long it would take for me to find you. We can eat until we’re full, if we want.”
“I don’t even remember what that feels like,” Jenna laughed.
He handed her two thick pieces of bread, and several strips of dried meat. It was chewy, but it did the trick.
They ate in uneasy silence. What would happen when they were done eating, and it was time to go to sleep?
He wasn’t sure how long he’d be able to resist her.
“Barker?” she asked, swallowing some water. “Do you miss your girlfriend? Is that why you don’t want to be with me?”
“I can’t even remember what she looks like anymore. Whenever I try to picture her face, it’s not quite right. So I don’t try anymore.”
“Why did you give me your ration that time?”
Barker shrugged. “Because I wanted to go to sleep that night, knowing you were sleeping too. Not—not being abused by one of the assholes who call themselves soldiers.”
“Sometimes I like it, though. A lot of times. Does that bother you? That I might like being a whore?”
Her long, unkempt blonde hair fell into her eyes, and he resisted the urge to touch her, to smooth it in place for her.
“I guess it’s better that way. Better than being like some of those other women. The ones who show up for morning rations with bruises. But don’t ever call yourself a whore again.”
His anger simmered within him. Fuck. He wished he could shoot the Colonel himself and take over, make everyone toe the fucking line and get their shit together.
Whoa. Where did that come from?
Something about this entire situation, being with Jenna, seeing her fear about being killed—it made him see everything he thought he knew about the camp in a different light.
Could he really trust the Colonel?
“Thank you for dinner, Barker.”
“I’m glad I got an opportunity to feed you,” he said.
“Let’s go to bed,” she whispered. “But . . . I sleep naked. Just thought I should warn you.”
Barker laughed, his mood considerably brightened now that his belly was full, and they were safe for the night. Alone. In a bedroom, with a bed.
And with a beautiful woman who was throwing herself at him.
“Fuck it,” he said, and set his rifle down on the dresser top.
He noticed her eyes follow his movements, but she quickly looked back at him, and grinned.
“Well, hello there. Glad we’re finally on the same page.”
She started to pull her own top off again, but Barker pulled her in close, and stripped it off for her, running his hands along her curves. Her hips flared out despite the lack of any extra meat on her, and he held her ass through her pants, his cock hardening.
“Fuck yeah, soldier,” she murmured against his lips. “Let’s do this.”
Critically-acclaimed author Shoshanna Evers has written dozens of sexy stories including Amazon Erotica Bestsellers Overheated, and Enslaved, Book 1 in the Enslaved Trilogy, as well as the post-apocalyptic dystopian Pulse Trilogy from Simon & Schuster Pocket Star. Her work has been featured in Best Bondage Erotica 2012 and Best Bondage Erotica 2013, the Penguin/Berkley Heat anthology Agony/Ecstasy, and numerous erotic BDSM novellas including Chastity Belt and Punishing the Art Thief from Ellora’s Cave Publishing.
The non-fiction anthology Shoshanna Evers edited and contributed to, How To Write Hot Sex: Tips from Multi-Published Erotic Romance Authors, is a #1 Bestseller in the Authorship, Erotica Writing Reference, and Romance Writing categories on Amazon.
Reviewers have called Shoshanna’s writing “fast paced, intense, and sexual…every naughty fantasy come to life for the reader” with stories where “the plot is fresh and the pacing excellent, the emotions…real and poignant.”
Shoshanna used to work as a syndicated advice columnist and a registered nurse, but now she’s a full-time smut writer and a home-schooling mom. She lives with her family and two big dogs in Northern Idaho.
Have you ever had an obscene phone call? Did some part of you enjoy it and the anonymity of the call? How long did the call last? Hmmm? Keep reading if you’d like to see the prize you could win.
I only had one and my husband had to spoil it! (He’s my EX now, but not because of that.)
My husband was home for a sandwich when a call came. He was there to eat, not talk, so I answered the call. The caller’s polite questions sounded like he knew me, like he was someone I should know, so I kept talking. The Ex kept asking who was calling and talking loudly in the background. Hubby wanted me to get off the phone and fix his lunch. I could call back later, after he went back to work.
When I told the guy I didn’t recognize his voice, he explained that he liked to call strangers and talk about sex. OK! Finally! My first obscene call! I wanted to see how far he would go, but with my spouse, who had no sense of humor, asking questions about why I didn’t hang up I couldn’t. When the stranger asked if I liked to talk about sex I told him my husband was there and we could both talk. He hung up. I guess he wasn’t into having a Ménage à 3, and my Ex certainly wasn’t.
He wasn’t amused that I would talk to a strange man, and I wasn’t amused that he spoiled my ONLY sex call!
Sooo, I created an obscene phone call scene with the villain of Protective Instincts and the heroine and her reaction to his words . I’d like to know how you react to this scene. Are you 100 % turned off or even a tiny bit curious? Could this be rewritten to make it work for a sexy scene or is it sexy in an odd way?
Half asleep, Brit reached for the ringing phone. She was disoriented from a dream that left her breathless. She’d seen Tommy’s body fly over the hood of the truck that hit him. She’d heard herself scream. Then she’d seen a masked man staring at her, his look menacing. When he’d started toward her, she’d turned and run ’til she couldn’t catch her breath.
The pleasant fragrance of the garden sized arrangement in her dining room now permeated her bedroom, cloying, oppressive. She glanced bleary-eyed at the luminous clock. Two o’clock? Who’d call at this hour but family with an emergency? She snatched up the handset.
She cleared her throat and gathered her wits about her. “Hello.”
“Havin’ a real nice night, sugar?” The voice, raspy, deep, and very southern made her skin crawl.
“Who are you calling?” She tried to sound reasonable. “Wrong number? Please check your numbers before you call again. You keep getting me instead of whoever…”
“Did you enjoy the little romantic surprises, darlin’?” His voice was a cross between a caress and an insult.
“Surprises? What surprises?” At that moment, she realized. Her chest constricted. She bolted upright in bed so quickly her head swam.
“Aren’t the flowers gorgeous? Beautiful flowers for a beautiful lady. Intoxicatin’ fragrances, huh?”
“Who are you? Am I supposed to I know you?”
“Not as well as I know you, lovely lady.”
“Why – How did you change my order? Who are you?”
“You deserve beautiful things,” he purred.
“But you shouldn’t send me gifts. I mean it.” She didn’t recognize his voice or the lazy southern drawl. “The flowers were extravagant. The food was way past too much.” She hit her pillow.
He seemed to ignore her. “You need a new robe, silky, sheer, and black, Sugar. That’s some sexy body under all that terry cloth, smooth, sweet, warm from sleep. Are your beautiful, white breasts aching to be touched?”
Brit gasped, yanked bed covers to her chin. Someone had been in her house, had invaded her space. Her expensive dinner, the one he’d had sent, threatened to come back up. “Look, whoever you are –”
“Is the sweet place between your thighs wet, Darlin’? Bet you’re wanting it as much as I do.” A long pause was followed by, “Oh-h-h, Sugar, love the old claw foot tub. I can wash your ….”
She’d hoped to learn who the pervert was by using her head and staying calm. Don’t let him get to you. She swallowed hard before she could speak without choking. “I’m too tired for this,” she started to hang up. She’d hit star-whatever, then call the police. Maybe she’d use a neighbor’s phone, so he couldn’t listen.
“Bet your heart’s just pumpin’ away, ‘ma bella’. See you soon. Think about me, Darlin’. See you in my sweet dreams.”
If you’d like a PDF copy of this book, respond and leave an email address. I’m considering using a scene like this in a book I’m writing but not necessarily with the villain.
After two days of driving, the fam and I are at our destination. We’ll be staying in the wilds of Virginia, about an hour from Washington, DC. I say wilds, but there’s a little sarcasm in my voice. Yes, the house I’m staying in is on a hilltop all by its lonesome, but it’s hardly the wilds when you can reach a shopping mall inside ten minutes. Still, it’s lovely. A little chillier than Arkansas at the moment, but not bad.
If I tell you I’m staying at my ex’s with his girlfriend, will you think I’m terribly strange? We’ve managed to keep a friendly (not too friendly, mind you!) relationship over the years. We genuinely like to see each other, catch up on what’s happening in our lives, reminisce, etc.
I do find it strange that it took us going our separate ways to find out what we really wanted out of life. He has his thriving business; I have my thriving writing career. He’s much more social than I am, so living in a more populated area suits him fine, while I love my countrified isolation.
Family remains very important to us, so keeping things friendly really isn’t an effort. And it’s one less stressor in a life full of challenges. Which makes me wonder, have you ever had a relationship like that? A post-breakup friendship?
I have guests lined up for the rest of my visit here; just thought I’d poke my head in the door and say hello. Ciao for now! ~DD 🙂
Have you ever read a romance where the hero passes gas (my two-year-old daughter calls it “tooping” not to be confused with “twerking” thank you), belches or actually goes, um, number two? Ewww and gross. No way would any hot hunky hero in a romance novel do those things.
Thank God for fiction!
I was in my late twenties when I picked up my first romance. I instantly fell in love with the genre and would take a tote to the library and fill the bag with dozens of books. My mom was so funny. She went all serious on me and told me to be careful and realize that what I was reading was fiction. Romance doesn’t happen the way it’s portrayed in novels and I shouldn’t compare my husband (we were newly married at the time) to the heroes in romance books. She’d actually made me laugh over her “words of wisdom.” But I understood what she’d meant. Romances are fantasy, a break from reality and a way to escape into another world.
As a writer, I love making up stories, but I also can’t help putting a touch of my reality in them. No, I’ve never murdered anyone or had to worry about how to dispose of a body like my villains in my romantic suspense novels. But in each one of those books there are quick peeks into my reality. For example, in Shadow of Danger (Book 1 CORE Shadow Trilogy) my heroine could bake a mean chocolate chip cookie and she had a gnome fetish. Not to brag, but I’m kinda known for my chocolate chip cookies and have over two dozen gnomes in my yard and house. There’s also a scene with a cranberry bog. When I was on a business trip with my husband, I ended up seated at the bar next to a couple from Wisconsin. I was writing Shadow of Danger at the time and had the story set in Wisconsin. It turned out the couple was not only from the area my story took place, but the husband was a cranberry farmer. Okay, how many cranberry farmers have you met in your life? Me? He was my first, and because meeting them was so random I decided I had to do something with a cranberry bog. I’m not going to tell you what I did. Let’s just say it was…killer.
I also add touches of my reality in my contemporary romances. My latest release, Love Me or Leave Me is actually based on the HGTV reality show, Love It or List It. For those of you who haven’t seen the show, here’s a quick premise: Homeowners explain why their house no longer works for them (no space, layout, had more children, etc.). The show’s designer renovates the house hoping the homeowners will love it and want to stay. Meanwhile the real estate agent shows the homeowners houses they could purchase with the hope they’ll list their home.
I’ve seen just about every episode (what did we do before DVRs?). Every time I watch the show, I wonder what the designer would do with my house or what the real estate agent would say if he walked inside and took a look around. When my husband and I bought our home we had two babies. Now we have four kids. The bigger they grow, the smaller my house becomes. So when I came up with the idea for Love Me or Leave Me I decided to use my house as the home in question. As I started developing the story, I would walk through my house and imagine what my heroine would do with it. I had a lot of fun writing this story, making imaginary changes to my house and trying to decide whether or not I would want to stay if we ever had an opportunity to be on a show like this.
And while you’ll find some of my reality in Love Me or Leave Me, you’ll also find a whole lot of fiction. One of the best parts of being a romance author is being able to create romance and watch it bloom. My hero, Carter, and my heroine, Brynn, were a fun couple to write, especially when I had them turning up the heat (wink, wink). That being said, I’ll never forget what my mom had told me—romance novels, as a whole, are fantasy. But, I have to admit it sure is fun to play out those fantasies in my reality (great big wink).
Love Me or Leave Me
Carter James, real estate agent for the hit reality show, Renovate or Relocate, has been crazy about the show’s designer, Brynn Dawson, for years. He’s been aching to take their friendship to a new level and when he gets his chance to spend a hot, sensual night with her and fulfill his wildest fantasies, he falls hard for Brynn. When the director of the show reveals that Brynn could possibly be fired, Carter knows he has to act fast before she’s booted from the show. He’ll not only jeopardize his reputation, but he’ll go behind her back to help her keep her job. Knowing Brynn’s pride is also at stake, he hopes his deception doesn’t come back to haunt him in the end. He can’t imagine life without the woman he loves.
Brynn has been aware of Carter for years. How good he smells, his sexy smile, his lean, muscular body, his big, rough hands and what she’d like him to do with them. When she takes a chance by going from friends to lovers, she risks both her heart and their friendship, but discovers it’s the best decision she could have ever made. Despite having her job on the line, she also knows that as long as she has Carter by her side, she can get through anything. Until she finds out what Carter’s been up to. Hurt and betrayed, her emotions raw and her love for him tested, she’ll have to decide whether she can move past the deceit and love him or if his lack of faith in her will force her to leave him.
I didn’t pick up my first romance novel until I was in my late twenties. Immediately hooked, I read a bazillion books before deciding to write one of my own. After the birth of my first son I needed something to keep my mind from turning to mush, and Sesame Street wasn’t cutting it. While that first book will never see the light of day, something good came from writing it. I realized my passion, and found a career I love.
When I’m not writing contemporary romances and dark, romantic suspense novels (or reading them!) I’m chasing after my four kids and two neurotic dogs.
Thank you for hosting me today. I’m excited to talk about the spice RED PEPPER, and my latest release, Stripper With Spice, a contemporary erotic romance.
Raging Red Pepper
I’m one of those people who cook intuitively. Unless it’s dessert, I use a dash of this and a handful of that. With most spices, you can sprinkle liberally without worrying too much about overdoing it. Not so with red peppers. Put too much of that in the recipe and you’ll make people break out in a sweat, dash for the water glass, and maybe even experience pain for a while.
When I was in Texas last year, I stocked up on Texas food mixes, including chili. That turned out well since I could adjust the amount of pepper I put in there according to the handy instructions. Chili is kind of like a romance novel. It has various heat levels, and the highest is not usually for the faint of heart. Later, I ordered chili mix from a different company. Those instructions were the same deal. Adjust the heat level by how much habanero pepper you put in. But this kit also included a standard spice pack. It looked as if it had plenty of dried red pepper in there, but I figured it’s standard, right? So, I threw in the whole pack and chose the mild level for the habanero. After a couple mouthfuls of that chili, flames were blowing out of my ears and my husband couldn’t even eat it. Live and learn. I’ll never disrespect red pepper again, despite what the directions say.
When peppers are fresh, they can be hazardous to the cook as well. My family grew peppers for the first time and gave me some. As I’ve discovered, anything out of the garden is usually ten times more potent than the washed-out stuff you buy at the grocery store. I cut up the pepper along with the onion and threw it in. Not long after, my hands were on fire. When I got into a hot shower, I thought my skin was going to blister and fall off. I was in agony for hours! The next time my family offered me garden peppers, I said, “No thanks. I’ll stick to the dried stuff.”
Handling peppers can have serious implications for sex as well. These can be painful or titillating, depending on your point of view. And certain parts of the body (ahem) are more susceptible than others. When I write the first draft of a book, my sex scenes are sometimes a little rushed because I’m just trying to get the facts down. I add sensuality layers during my polishing phase.
One thing I learned from taking a class was to make the love scene uniquely belong to the characters. Because food was a big part of the plot of my story and Carlos’s family owns a Mexican restaurant, a hot pepper came to mind. That simple addition made the love scene take off. Janice and Carlos go from making fajitas together to sharing a peppery kiss and ending up on the couch in a scorching reunion. Throughout the book, Carlos is like a hot pepper, exciting but unknown and potentially painful. Janice learns to be a master chef, using just the right amount.
Getting back on her feet after unemployment, Janice treats herself to an erotic-romance convention. After winning a two-hour fantasy date with Carlos Aguilar, a young stripper, she decides to have a one-time fantasy fling.
When Carlos entices her back to the bedroom—and a few public places—for more sizzling sex, he unleashes her passions, including a secret desire to be a chef. Janice learns there’s more to this heartthrob than a hot body, but job security comes first.
To convince her he’s more than a fantasy, Carlos teaches her trust with his body. But when that trust is finally tested to the limit, she’ll be torn between clinging to safety and taking a chance on a whole new life.
He looks and sounds so serious and honest, how can I not be completely convinced? His words echo inside my head as he grips both sides of my face and lowers his mouth to mine in slow motion. The thrill bubbles return to my bloodstream as if the elevator cable has just snapped, dropping us to the basement.
Unlike last night’s, this kiss is slow and full of promise. He samples my mouth as if we have all the time in the world. A flash of mint-flavored tongue pierces my soul, tearing a moan from my throat. With one hand still on the button, I raise my other to his shoulder. Feeling the bare, hot skin there fuels my desire, pushing me dangerously close to the edge of self-control.
“Do you want this as much as I do, Janice?”
God, yes. I need more…all of you.
I reply by sliding my hand across the tiger-striped fabric over his back. The warm satin, with muscles moving under it, is just as sexy as bare skin. His hips dance against mine—rubbing, thrusting and teasing. My fingers move to the worn waistband of his jeans at his side, wanting to pull them off. My body throbs, needing him as I’ve never needed anything before.
When he pulls my finger off the close-door button, the door opens to reveal an annoyed looking family of five waiting to get on. The parents, obviously noticing Carlos’ wild vest and our heavy breathing, exchange a disgusted look.
Carlos takes my hand and leads me off the elevator. My heart races as we walk down the corridor. Luckily, the carpet absorbs the trembling in my legs so it doesn’t make a sound.
He stops at one of the doors. I fixate on the way he slides his keycard from his back pocket and inserts it into the door reader. It’s something I’ve done myself a million times without thinking, but this is different. This is foreplay.
The door responds with a little click and a flashing green light. I guess we just got the green light for wild, hot sex. My heart accelerates even more. If it goes any faster, he’ll have to call a paramedic. I can read the headline now.
Boring financial analyst dies from anticipating sex with a hot cover model.
I check my watch. Fifteen minutes have passed.
“We still have plenty of time.” He ushers me inside and closes the door behind me.
The room is completely dark because the drapes are drawn. It’s as if we’ve entered a private cave, hidden from the world. This is it, I think as Carlos flips on a dim lamp. We’re really going to do this. We’re going to have sex.
“Come in and make yourself comfortable,” he says.
I stay where I am but gaze around the room, noticing with approval how neat he is. His clothes hang in the closet and his toiletries are laid out on one corner of the sink. The smoky-brown bottle probably contains the mysterious mesquite scent. I wish he were a slob so I could tell myself it would never work between us.
It doesn’t take long for my attention to stumble across the centerpiece of the room, the large bed. Is it another stage? Is the perfectly pressed red cover the curtain? Unlike the platforms we shared for the photo shoot and lap dance, this one is completely private.
What if he doesn’t like my performance?
Coming Soon
Rock My Boat
Workaholic CEO Rhonda Simms embarks on a Caribbean cruise to create an ad campaign for a big maritime freight client. She finds it impossible to concentrate, however, when Simon Mann, a blue marlin shifter, sets his sights on her. From a private, hands-on safety briefing to a wild ride in the ocean, he rocks her ordered world.
Simon drowned years ago in a shipwreck caused by Rhonda’s client, and he’ll do anything to be a normal man again. As his mate, Rhonda is the only person who can help him.
Tired of being so responsible, Rhonda is ready to let loose with a shipboard fling. Mating with Simon could cost a lot more than her virginity, however. Will she stick to her present course or will she let this sexy alpha rock her boat?
This story will be part of the Tall, Dark & Alpha boxed set, which will release 10 March 2014.
This post is part of the Stripper With Spice Blog Tour.
The grand prize for the tour is the winner’s choice of a wall-mountable black scroll spice rack or The Spice Lover’s Guide to Herbs and Spices book (U.S. shipping address only).
To be eligible, COMMENT on this post. The comment MUST relate to the spice I’m posting about in at least ONE of these ways:
1) How you cook with it or use it in food OR
2) How you use it as a natural remedy OR
3) How it reminds you of a particular man or intimate encounter
One of my favorite philosophical discussions with my husband is “who is more worthy?” — the son that has always done the right thing in his life or the son after a life of indiscretions discovers his honor? Is one more deserving than the other? And, at what point would you consider the two sons equal, if at all?
Needless to say, it brings some lively discussions over our dinner table.
A certain level of jealousy would develop between brothers and maybe that’s what forces them to extremes. The righteous son may long for a life without expectations or use his honor as a weapon against the brother who has none. The other may want what his brother has, but cannot find the right path home.
At what point is the second son unredeemable? What is the tipping point of change?
I’m a sucker for a bad boy turned good and love to believe in second chances. The prodigal son returns. There is something to be said about testing a character’s virtue and knowing the limits. Turning your back on the easy road takes courage, let alone the level of determination needed never to return to old ways.
I happen to love this type of conflict, so much so, Soul Awakened, my second book in the Key to the Cursed series, is based on this theme. Two brothers could not be any different. One (Bomani) raised in the warrior camp, fighting for his life and elevating to the level of Legion Commander on courage and will alone. The other (Bakari) lived a life of luxury and wealth, using his power to feed his lust and greed, until one fateful day. After years of imprisonment and torture, Bakari claims to be a changed man.
Years of rivalry and hatred stand between them. One woman to love. Can Bakari rise from the ashes to claim her? Who will be the victor? Love for blood or honor.
I want to hear what you think. Who is more worthy of Kendra’s love?
Or who do you root for: Team Life of Honor or Team Bad Boy Turned Good?
Commenters will be entered to win a $10 Kindle Gift Card/or equivalent eBook.
Kendra, an Egyptologist and demi-god in waiting, is the key to unlocking Bakari, the Egyptian God of Death, from his cursed slumber. Desperate to free him, she inadvertently binds herself to the god with a spell that only death will undo. To save Bakari from himself, she may have to sacrifice her innocence, and possibly her soul, before he becomes his family’s worst enemy.
HAUNTED BY SINS OF THE PAST
Bakari awakens to a world at war and a beautiful woman who has tethered his soul to hers. In the wake of his self-destruction Kendra is his only hope of salvation, but another has vowed to keep Bakari from the one thing he craves most— his Parvana. His butterfly.
Reviews:
Night Owl Reviews:Reviewer’s Top PICK/ 5 Stars (Abigail, Feb2013) : “I know other readers are going to love this series as much as I do. Get settled in for a thrilling paranormal tale.”
“I don’t know where to begin to describe the absolutely marvelous job that the author does in not only creating a wonderful world with so much depth and detail, but a story line the has the mystery and intrigue that will keep you glued to the pages.”
Only the strongest love can unlock the souls of the Underworld
In her pursuit of a nursing degree, Jean Murray aspired to see the world and joined the Navy. At the end of 2011 she said a heart-breaking goodbye to her Navy family and retired after twenty years of military service. Although her dreams of writing full time have yet to come true, she continues her writing journey and draws inspiration from her travels abroad. She enjoys spending time with her family and of course, writing about the “Carrigan sisters and their mates, Gods of the Underworld,” to bring you the next installment of the Key to the Cursed series.
Author Jean Murray brings a wonderful new spin to the paranormal world with her Egyptian Underworld gods. She broke ground in the paranormal romance genre with Soul Reborn and now continues the Key to the Cursed journey with Soul Awakened.
Jennifer Kacey is a wife, mother, and business owner living with her family in Texas. She sings in the shower, plays piano in her dreams, and has to have a different color of nail polish every week. The best advice she’s ever been given? Find the real you and never settle for anything less.
Critically-acclaimed author Shoshanna Evers has written dozens of sexy stories including Amazon Erotica Bestsellers Overheated, and Enslaved, Book 1 in the Enslaved Trilogy, as well as the post-apocalyptic dystopian Pulse Trilogy from Simon & Schuster Pocket Star. Her work has been featured in Best Bondage Erotica 2012 and Best Bondage Erotica 2013, the Penguin/Berkley Heat anthology Agony/Ecstasy, and numerous erotic BDSM novellas including Chastity Belt and Punishing the Art Thief from Ellora’s Cave Publishing.
Have you ever had an obscene phone call? Did some part of you enjoy it and the anonymity of the call? How long did the call last? Hmmm? Keep reading if you’d like to see the prize you could win.
I didn’t pick up my first romance novel until I was in my late twenties. Immediately hooked, I read a bazillion books before deciding to write one of my own. After the birth of my first son I needed something to keep my mind from turning to mush, and Sesame Street wasn’t cutting it. While that first book will never see the light of day, something good came from writing it. I realized my passion, and found a career I love.
