The winner (chosen by a random number generator) of this story  and a $5 Amazon.com
gift certificate is…Pat Freely!  Pat, congratulations and email me
to arrange delivery of your prize! ~DD

A Perfect TRIfecta!

We’re already at the third book in this series. And what a sequel it is. I get more reader mail for this one than the others. Truth be told, this story worried me because it was all about the sex. I told my loopies before it released that the book’s a total fuckfest. Guess y’all like nasty, nonstop passion. 😉

Here’s the commercial again—that is, what the contest is all about. Stick around for tomorrow when I’ll share a scene from TWICE THE BANG. And remember, it’s ready for pre-order now! Here’s the link: Twice the Bang

THE CONTEST: Every day of the countdown, I’ll give away one free download of that day’s prequel book and a $5 Amazon.com gift certificate to one lucky commenter. If on that day, you win a download of a book you already own, I’ll let you choose a commenter to give that free download to, but you get to keep the gift certificate! Then on Tuesday, I’ll choose a name from among all the people who posted during this countdown and award a $25 gift certificate.

Playing with pain can put you in a world of hurt…or bliss.

Playing switch in front of a La Forge BDSM club audience was supposed to be a one-time fling. A favor for a friend. Instead, when Craig Eason realizes he’s caught the attention of an enigmatic, powerful Dom across the crowded room, he senses this could be the man he’s been looking for to test the boundaries of his own sexuality.

Firefighter Aiden Byrne is a very private man with strong S&M longings he keeps in check for everyone else’s safety. His sub, Jennifer Callum, thinks she likes it rough, but he can’t let go the way he’d like to. Until one defiant stare from the handsome cop on the La Forge stage causes Aiden’s most dangerous needs to uncoil from the deepest, darkest part of his soul.

With the blessing—and active involvement—of his sub, a seduction is set in motion that ends in a scene that shakes them all to the core…

Product Warnings: Contains a powerful, burly firefighter who plans to take everything a hot cop thinks he knows about himself and send it up in smoke. Please replace the batteries in all your smoke detectors before reading this book. Contains scenes with m/m/f, m/m, spanking, flogging, restraints, and one wild orgy of pleasure.

DO NOT READ THE FOLLOWING UNLESS YOU ARE OVER THE AGE OF 18!!

Craig hadn’t known he needed that reassurance until it was given. Be free. It sounded so simple. He’d explore what was here. Figure it out as they went forward. Or not. Everything depended on what lay in store for him inside the private room.

He rapped his knuckles against the door. It opened. Jenn stood in the doorframe completely nude. Her body gleamed with oil. Her skin was flushed pink and her eyes were lazily roaming his body. “You’re wearing too many clothes.”

He’d considered stripping in the changing room and entering the salon naked, but hadn’t wanted to be waylaid by anyone looking for a player. Not tonight. So he was still in his jeans and tee. “I came straight here,” he said, not looking beyond her happy smile to see if Aiden was in the room.

She stepped back and gave a wave of her hand. “I’m already prepped. Had a massage. Aiden likes to arrive after everyone’s ready.” She glanced up to the camera in the corner and gave a little wave.

So Aiden was watching. Without him even in the room, Craig tensed. “Did he leave instructions?”

“I’m to get you ready. Lube you up,” she said, biting her bottom lip to hold back her smile. “If you have no objections.”

“It’s not my place to object,” he said softly. He strode past her, shut the door, then stood still while she began to strip him, bending first to remove his sneakers and socks, then kneeling to unbuckle his belt and slide it free.

When she unbuttoned his denims, she glanced up and gave him a quick smile. “It’s not like I haven’t seen your dick before—“

“Or blown it,” he muttered.

She arched a brow. “But it does feel different, doesn’t it?” Read the rest of this entry »

The winner (chosen by a random number generator) of this story  and a $5 Amazon.com
gift certificate is…Toni Whitmire!  Toni, congratulations and email me
to arrange delivery of your prize! ~DD

FOURnicopia!

And we’re back! I love the countdowns. Invariably, someone stumbles through the door and says, “How did I miss these books?” To which I answer, “I don’t know! I tried to get your attention the best way I could with this dang title!”

You know I giggle over that title to this day. It’s ornery and nasty—and perfect for the story! Fournicopia isn’t the most popular of the Delta Heat stories, and I think I know why. For some reason, women like their men to be Doms. What I think they believe when a man isn’t the dominating partner is that he’s also not a strong alpha male. WRONG! At least so far as Gus is concerned, it’s 100% wrong. But you have to read the story to see what I mean. 

In case you didn’t see the details concerning the contest in yesterday’s post, I’ll repeat them!

THE CONTEST: Every day of the countdown, I’ll give away one free download of that day’s prequel book and a $5 Amazon.com gift certificate to one lucky commenter. If on that day, you win a download of a book you already own, I’ll let you choose a commenter to give that free download to, but you get to keep the gift certificate! Then on Tuesday, I’ll choose a name from among all the people who posted during this countdown and award a $25 gift certificate.

Gus Taggert knows a setup when he sees one. When one of his police officer buddies sends him on a doughnut run to one particular doughnut shop, Cornucopia, he hesitates. It’s too frilly and pink. However, the woman behind the counter serves him more than a couple dozen gourmet doughnuts, she gives him a mini-lesson in submission—something he’s eager to learn more about. When she orders him to see her that night at the BDSM club, La Forge, he’s more than eager to obey.

Newly vetted Domme, Aislinn Darby, has a sub she’s eager to take for a test run. The large, burly cop is the kind of alpha guy she’s been dying to tie up and spank. However, after she takes him through his paces, she finds herself more than willing to let him take control, something she hasn’t enjoyed with a man before. Gus’s brand of loving is addictive, but now she’s doubting herself and her own ability to control a scene. She has to have him back for one more go, only this time, she’s going to do it with a crowd around them to ensure he doesn’t forget who’s in charge. She bribes him into submission. Accept her dictates, and he can have her any way he wants as reward.

What Gus wants is Aislinn in the middle of a scene he orchestrates himself with the help of three of his best friends.

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 black 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.” Read the rest of this entry »

The winner (chosen by a random number generator) of this story  and a $5 Amazon.com
gift certificate is…Ronnie Cornett!  Ronnie, congratulations and email me
to arrange delivery of your prize! ~DD

FIVE Ways ‘Til Sunday!

I don’t think I’ve ever had as much fun dreaming up a new series as I have with Delta Heat. The fun began with the titles! Five Ways ‘Til Sunday… Fournicopia… A Perfect Trifecta… Now, there’s Twice the Bang—or there will be in just 4 days! I built the countdown right into the titles. Not very subtle, huh? But you got it, right?

From now until Tuesday, I’m going to remind you about the stories that came before, then give you a peek inside Twice. And if you follow along, you’ll get a chance to read some sexy excerpts, but also qualify to win some fun prizes.

THE CONTEST: Every day, I’ll give away one free download of that day’s prequel book and a $5 Amazon.com gift certificate to one lucky commenter. If on that day, you win a download of a book you already own, I’ll let you choose a commenter to give that free download to, but you get to keep the gift certificate! Then on Tuesday, I’ll choose a name from among all the people who posted during this countdown and award a $25 gift certificate. Incentive enough to follow along?

Let’s start! This was the first book in the series, and the first time my lovely band of police officer brothers considered sharing a woman. Once they saw how powerful it could be bringing a woman into their circle to pleasure and cherish, it became their initiation rite.

“FIVE WAYS ‘TIL SUNDAY was an awesome read…” ~4.5 Stars, Night Owl Reviews

“Delightfully quick read, you are so consumed in the story it is difficult to put it down…” ~Sensual Reads

Sometimes a man’s just gotta call for backup…

Marti Kowalski is all wrong for Officer Jackson Teague—he just won’t listen to reason. She didn’t finish high school, runs a bar. Has a tattoo and a blue streak in her hair. Yet he still wants to marry her? She can’t say she’s not tempted, but she’s got a bucket list to complete before she ties the knot.

Not just any bucket—more like a fifty-five-gallon drum of sexual wishes so explicit, there’s no way one man, even Jackson, can fulfill them all.

When Marti turns him down again, Jackson doesn’t give up, he insists on knowing why. That’s when she shows him her list. He takes it, thinks about it—and calls on the only men he can trust: four buddies from his academy graduating class.

Between the five of them, he’s sure they can come up with a plan to check off every item on her list in one wild, wicked weekend. That is, if she has the nerve to follow through—and if he can bear to share her.

Warning: Five men on a mission to break down the resistance of one determined woman. Author suggests readers keep their significant others on speed dial. Not responsible for accidental 911 calls.

Marti Kowalski waved a hand blindly behind her at her desk, swiping the inventory sheets she’d slaved over for two days, and her telephone, to the floor. She didn’t care about the mess—or by the crunch—the loss of her phone. Right this moment, she had Jackson where she wanted him—too far gone with want to worry what damage he might cause.

His body was hard; his expression carved to a lustful edge, which promised the kind of sexy interlude she preferred—something spontaneous and surprising.

Even after all the months they’d been seeing each other, he managed to surprise her. Like now. He’d pulled her from the door of the ladies’ restroom and goose-stepped her with her arm bent behind her back to the manager’s office, growling menacingly into her ear about the wicked things he’d do to her.

Ma’am, keep quiet and I won’t hurt you.

She’d shivered at the menace in his voice, but he’d rubbed her hip gently to remind her this was just a game. She had to hand it to him. He knew what made her hot. Read the rest of this entry »

The winner of the download, by random number generator is, Charlene!
Charlene, congrats and be sure to email me to arrange delivery of your story!

* * * * *

Have to be quick! My satellite’s been mostly out last night and this morning due to storm activity. No, we haven’t seen a twister, but there’s cloud cover and we just had a hellacious thunderstorm. So no time to chat!

Enjoy the excerpt, then follow the links to the other Snippeteers’ websites for more!

If you post a comment today, you’ll be entered to win
a free download of this short story!

A little peek deserves a little punishment…

Afraid to spoil their friendship, Emily is reluctant to act on her attraction to the two sexy men next door. However, when she’s caught spying on them, the men decide a little punishment is in order…

Beads of condensation, glittering jewel-like in the sputtering candlelight, ran in rivulets down the sides of Jason’s ice-cold beer.

Detail I shouldn’t have been able to note, given the fact I was thirty feet away.

As I lowered my nephew’s toy binoculars, I reflected that I had indeed sunk to a new low. You see, my bedroom window conveniently overlooked Jason and Robert’s backyard. A fact that probably never registered with the previous tenants, but one that proved too delicious to ignore after the arrival of the handsome duo. Privacy fencing, which ran down to the pier that jutted into the lake, separated the row of houses where we lived. It was high enough the neighbors on either side of ours couldn’t see into their yard, but lucky me—I had the perfect view.

Upon discovering this, I had began a furtive surveillance. One that had me cringing in embarrassment each time I greeted them in passing and feeling even more ashamed when we struck up a friendship.

We’d shared meals, drinks, late afternoon swims, watched football games together on their wide-screen TV. And still, I peeked into their backyard, waiting for those moments when they popped outside to mow the lawn or catch a few summer rays. Their bodies gleamed with sweat while raw lust warred inside me, along with the fear that I’d mess up our relationship if I let the guys know how I really felt.

My convenient perch on the windowsill afforded me a window into their private lives, and from the very beginning, I was hooked. They’d become an obsession, one frustrated by the fact they treated me like a kid sister, rather than a woman one of them might desire.

And therein lay another problem. I’d resisted the urge to seek a deeper relationship because then I’d have to choose. My libido was completely fickle, lusting after Jason’s muscled physique, then sighing over the possibilities of what Robert’s tall, bony frame and large feet hinted at. That their personalities were perfect bookends, fierce and funny, confused my heart as well.

Lucky, lucky me. I licked the sweat gathering on my upper lip while this night one of the handsome men living next door tilted his bottle and took several long sips. The look of pure bliss that softened his otherwise stern features made my chest ache.

I watched the movement of Jason’s throat as he worked it down, imagining him sipping at my overheated flesh. My skin began to tingle. My nipples beaded, crowding uncomfortably against my lace bra. My thighs clenched as a delicious wash of arousal seeped to wet the crotch of my plain panties.

The sigh he emitted as he set the bottle on the table was echoed by my own painful groan. Watching either of them had never caused my heart to skip a beat like that hint of a moan sliding on the tail of Jason’s long exhalation.

Sure, it was hotter than hell out there. I too felt the effects of the enervating heat. Record temperatures had strained the region’s resources and planned service interruptions began that night. But something about that sigh felt…un-subtle, exaggerated, maybe even dramatic. And Jason was too straightforward a man for that.

I blotted sweat from my forehead, asking myself again, What am I doing?

Only this time, my peeping hadn’t been deliberate. I’d rushed home from work and showered quickly to beat the scheduled brown-out. Then I’d stripped to my underwear, pulled back the curtains, and opened the window, hoping for a breeze to cool my skin. Sitting limply on the sill, I waited for the world to flicker into life again.

That’s when I’d noticed him, sitting in a lounge chair alone in the dark.

He wore his usual work “uniform”—khaki trousers, white shirt and a tie. Tonight, the tie hung loosened and askew, his collar opened beneath it.

Despite the lack of electricity, I could see it all. Moonlight silvered his dark hair and reflected bright as a beacon against the white shirt. The golden light from the large Citronella candle leant warmth to his skin and the amber bottle he held between his hands.

As always, he was lovely to watch, but tonight, his expression drew my attention more than his breath-stealing features. A sullen slanting of his brows, a bit of pout plumping his masculine lips, an edgy energy to his slight movements—he was either irritated or aroused.

Wanting an answer to the “either-or,” I watched. My forte is observation; my people-radar exquisitely tuned to body language and a voice’s tonal cues. My curiosity and my lust were caught. No way could I back away from my window now.

The bottle tapped the table as he set it aside. A long-fingered hand tugged the knot of his tie, dragging it from his neck.

When he began to undo the row of buttons down the front of his shirt, I settled deeper on the sill, leaning closer, but taking care to keep my pale body hidden behind the sheer curtain.

The edges of the shirt parted over a broad, nicely muscled chest. My gaze zeroed in on taut lean abs dusted with dense fur the same color as his close-cropped black hair that stretched nipple to nipple then ran along a thin dark line to slip beneath his zipper.

His hand stroked his chest, scratching through the hair, the faint crinkling sound causing my own chest to tighten, my nipples to surge.

A light sheen of sweat glimmered on his chest and belly. Again, my tongue swept my lips, tasting salt, and I imagined I lapped the dew right off his skin.

When a lazily roaming hand slid over his belly, I tensed, fascinated as he swept the flat plane. Would he be hard or desk-soft? His stomach looked firm. So, I enjoyed fantasizing that he was and touched my own stomach, following his path.

His hand slid down to the knot bulging behind his fly, and he cupped it. Squeezed.

My own hands itched to replace his and grew still, clenching against the fantasy of holding his burgeoning cock as it roused. My cheeks heated and my breaths shortened. No need to tease my own body into arousal, moisture already soaked my panties.

The buckle clanked open, and the belt slid sinuously from the loops as he lifted his hips and pulled it free. A flick of his thumb and the button at the waistband of his trousers opened. His zipper rasped as it slid down.

Dark fabric formed a vee-like shadow as his hand rooted beneath his waist, and then he slipped the long, gleaming column of his semi-aroused sex from the flap at the front of his boxers and wrapped his fingers around it.

I swallowed the liquid pooling in my mouth. I blinked to moisten eyes that had grown dry and scratchy as I stared, wide-eyed. My breaths grew ragged, a little choked, and I must have made a noise, because suddenly his head swung my way.

His gaze narrowed on my bedroom window.

Holding my breath, I froze, hoping his gaze couldn’t penetrate the darkness.

But a crooked smile slowly stretched his lips, and his hand tightened around himself and began to pump up and down the thickening rod. All the while, he stared at me.

Jason knew I watched but didn’t seem to mind. I let out a deep, trembling breath and continued to stare, my own body heating, growing increasingly aroused in tandem with his hardening cock.

His head turned away, and his hand dropped from his engorged cock. It fell against his belly with a soft, muffled thud. Heavy, hot, thick—I knew its girth would stretch my mouth.

Another sound intruded. The chime of my doorbell. I bit back a curse and drew away from the window, slung on my robe, then headed downstairs to the front door.

Robert stood on the stoop, a lazy grin on his face, a sweep of lank blonde hair covering one eye and two beers dangling from his fingers. He was shirtless. Low-riding, blue knee-length shorts encased slender hips and revealed long legs. His large feet were bare. “Thought you might like to join us.”

“Us?” A pinch grabbed my belly and I repeated stupidly, dragging my glance upward again to lock with his.

“Jason and I?” His head tilted, and his pale blue eyes studied me.

Did he know what Jason was up to? He hadn’t been in the back yard. Maybe he didn’t know and the invitation was issued without a carnal subtext.

Not like I hadn’t enjoyed a beer or dinner at their place before, but those times had always been a “friend thing.”

“Are you okay? You look a little flushed.” The teasing glint in his eyes, and more, the narrowed focus of his stare, told me he knew exactly what I’d seen. His gaze slid beyond my shoulder into my darkened living room. “Keep us company until the lights come on?”

Modern Love….

Now here’s a topic that will certainly get you a wide array of answers, and the remarkable thing is – every one of them will be “correct” to the view that expresses it. We all see romantic in a different way, and what is highly romantic for one person is a total turn off for someone else. Erotica is for many an expression of romantic thought, for others it’s a variation on pornography.

What defines the word/concept that is romance? I have my view, and I’ve stated it often. What is your definition? What is romantic in your mind? Is it the explicit sexuality of erotica? Or the gentle awakening of sweet love and passion? I think we all carry the two aspects within us, and depending on what situation we’re in, one is always more appropriate than the other would be.

In romantic fiction, the barriers have long ago been crossed and forgotten. We’re in an “anything goes” sort of atmosphere, and in truth if you look at the vast array of publishers who are now publishing the minted genre “erotic romance” you can see the diversity of definition. I don’t think a lot of what is being labeled in that genre is either erotic or romantic, but that’s my personal mindset and I accept it as such.

I grew up reading Harlequin’s Presents imprint–in fact my first “grown-up” book purchased was a title from the relatively new imprint called “Moon Witch” by Anne Mather. It made me a lifelong fan of her work. I still remember the 34-year-old hero, and it’s been a few years! The line has changed with the times and it’s still their most popular imprint. A few years after I discovered these books, I began buying the racier ones, and they were fabulous, too. (And, yes, I remember my first title in that line, too!) I always come back home to Presents, because for me, the type of stories are the definitive romance stories. Larger than life heroes, the Alpha-male as they’ve since labeled him, exotic settings–in my case, I can’t get enough stories set in Italy–and scorching, tension laden awakening to burning and enduring passion. For me, that’s romance!

So, what are your favourites and what is it that sets them apart in your mind as the definition of romance? Do you prefer detailed sexuality, or the sensual middle-ground, or even behind closed doors love scenes? I’m curious, and would like your thoughts?

Ironically, I’m one of those authors who actively avoids the sex scenes in my books until I absolutely have to deal with them, so how in hell did I end up writing three ménage stories back to back? Believe me, no one is more surprised than I am by this strange turn of events. All three of these books are currently in the top ten best-sellers for the publisher who contracted them, too. Apart from the trio of lovers in these stories, when I wrote Stolen Rapture, I discovered one of my vampires was a dominant, and my heroine was waking to her submissive nature, so that was another new element for me.

I can’t really say that I’m wildly enamored of this kind of story, but it’s certainly been fun to touch the genre, and I might very well get back to it, if in small ways, for future stories. I like mixing genres as most of my readers know, so taking ménage, as requested by the publisher for their anniversary print release, then adding in a paranormal element with my sexy vampires–it was, I admit, a lot of fun! I hope you’ll enjoy this peek at Stolen Rapture… I’ve already been asked to create a story for the secondary male of the trio, and he’s speaking loudly at the moment, so I may not be able to ignore him for much longer!

We’ll do the usual, and I’ll offer one of our visitors today a free eBook of any title on my site, as well as a surprise that I’ll post to you! So, let’s hear your thoughts?

STOLEN RAPTURE

Publisher: https://bit.ly/XpxQeh
Bookstrand: https://www.bookstrand.com/stolen-rapture
ARe: https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-stolenrapture-638196-139.html

When work brings Deluna Jordan face to face with a man who knows her better than she knows herself, she soon discovers he shares everything with his boss, including lovers…and a thirst for blood…and she is about to become the lucky recipient of all their desires…

Rahve knew the instant Cord and his playmate arrived. He turned and even with a room between them, he could smell sex. He snorted silently. So Cord had fucked her already tonight. That explained the limousine service. His eyes swept over the woman, cataloging the elegant dress, the voluptuous curves that were just a little too rounded for current fashion, and the sparkling hazel eyes that were still a little dazed from orgasm.

He went to join them.

“Nice of you to show up,” he said to Cord.

“Screw you,” Cord snapped, then laughed. “This,” he turned to the woman at his side, “is Deluna Jordan. Baby, this is my partner—”

“Boss.”

“Partner,” he repeated, ignoring Rahve’s correction, “Rahve Falcon.”

“It’s lovely to meet you, Mr. Falcon,” Deluna said, offering her hand. He took it and brought her fingers to his lips, kissing the backs of them very softly. She stared in surprise.

“Rahve,” he requested. “Cord’s told me a lot about you. It’s nice to put a face to the name. Welcome to my home, and thank you for coming to the party.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Cord hasn’t told me a lot about you,” she replied.

“I’m not surprised,” Rahve answered. Falcon was genuinely amused. Cord watched him with thinly veiled suspicion. “Would you like a drink?”

“Thank you, that would be lovely.”

Rahve was being summoned from the other side of the room and his dark eyes flickered with annoyance that was easily read. He excused himself and on his way to the agitated woman waving less than discreetly to him, he stopped and directed one of the waiters to bring her a glass of champagne.

“Be careful around him,” Cord advised. “He’s interested in you.”

She stared at him, eyebrow raised. “You can tell that from hello, can you?”

“I’ve known Rahve a lot of years, baby,” he said, tone ominous. “He enjoys dangerous games.”

“And you don’t?” There was ice in her voice, making the words caustic in tone.

Cord’s blue and green gaze was hard when he met hers, and she shivered.

“You like my games,” he stated. “Rahve plays by different rules.”

She shrugged with false indifference and strolled into the crowd, fully aware of Cord’s eyes watching every move she made. The night was going to be a long one. The thought had barely passed into her awareness when she felt someone staring at her, the look almost a tangible touch that brushed her spine and made her entire body tingle.

There are things Cord should have told you. Rahve’s voice was inside her head somehow and she looked around, trying to locate him in the large crowd. Chills that had nothing to do with the actual temperature make her quiver. She closed her eyes, her equilibrium gone as the room faded to grey shadows. Her last thought was that she’d never fainted in her life, and this was not the time to start.

Denysé
“Live the Romance, Become the Fantasy…”
** Predators & Editors Best Author 2012 **
Website: www.denysebridger.com

Click on the cover to order!

Since the theme is my choice today, I thought I’d introduce you to an exciting new story! Crescent Moon will release on June 4th—or at least the first installment of the book will release on that date. The scary part for me? It’s not all written. Once the first part releases (the first five chapters), readers will have a chance to interact with me to let me know what they think about the story, and maybe to influence the rest of it! I have just two parts completed and am working on the third. There will be eight altogether. This will be a full-length novel by the time I am done, but you will only have to pay $1.99 to begin reading, and then every two weeks, a new installment will be shipped automatically to your Kindle. You won’t have to pay another penny.

What’s Crescent Moon all about? I’m not 100% sure.

The story’s still germinating. I do know that the first part begins in ancient Egypt with my heroine who lives an exalted life as the wife of a god. You will get a hint of her predicament when you read the following scene. Then the story picks up in New Orleans with a gruff, damaged cop, Juste Henry Boucher, who finds the heroine during a robbery investigation at a local museum. That’s pretty much all I know, except that demons are rising…

Because I’m so excited about this project, I have a special prize to offer one lucky commenter today. Let me know how you like the story so far. Be sure to check out the book at Amazon (just click on the cover!). The prize? A pair of earrings, handmade by me. Silver and lapis lazuli. Something Egyptian-themed to go along with the book! I will choose a winner Sunday night! Enjoy the excerpt!

From Crescent Moon:

One last time, her mind drifted, peacefully content…no shadows or disquiet to disturb her…allowing her to separate the parts of herself, first body from spirit…and then the mournful, dying part of her soul to dwell forever in the pit, while what remained, the part that would be born again, floated upward on golden wings. 

Her sprit ba left her mortal shell and spread its wings, flying through the small bright hole in the ceiling, leaving behind her swaddled human form, which lay on a bare wooden bench.

One, two, three strong surges of her fluttering wings and she flew toward the sun, free at last and feeling grateful to her husband for his generous gift. Her wings caught an updraft and she held them still, floating on the wind, the glorious waning sun warming her back.

Her spirit flew above white limestone cliffs and past a deep quarry littered with enormous blocks of carved stone. A sudden gust riffled through her feathers, forcing her to fly west, high above a barren valley.

But at last, her ba tired, circling downward, searching for the great river to lead her home. But no familiar white-washed city dwellings, no temple walls lay below. No fields of cotton and wheat.

Confused,  she made her way back to the dismal pit. Not wanting to enter, she flitted around the opening, feeling weary and afraid. Something dark awaited her. Some horror in the shadows.

And then she spotted the man with the dark watchful gaze, standing beneath the opening, his arms outspread to catch her…

Her heart pounded against her chest, the sound intruding on the vision. Khepri’s eyes slammed open.

Freedom was only a dream, a memory. How long had she been sleeping?

Slowly, Khepri grew more aware of her surroundings. Pressure enveloped her from head to toes. Frayed edges of linen strips surrounded her eyes. An ache centered in her head made her want to gasp, but when she tried to draw a deep breath, the constriction around her chest made the movement impossible. She couldn’t feel her fingers or toes. Her body, other than her head and chest, was numb.

Something was terribly wrong. Short, panicked breaths huffed in the silence.

She blinked, bright sunlight streaming through a hole in the rock ceiling above, blinding her, making her eyes tear. Unable to turn her head, she peered beneath the fringe of her dark lashes, through the openings left in the fabric, gazing upward. Her sight cleared slowly, but was filtered as though looking through the gauzy curtains that surrounded her bed in her tiny house inside the temple walls. But the haze obstructing her sight wasn’t merely physical. It was a thin curtain pulled over her mind. One placed there. Purposely, to confuse.

Her head reeled, not understanding, not recognizing where she lay.  The sickly-sweet scent of frankincense tickled her nose.

“Precious little warrior, you are awake.”

If she could have drawn a deep breath, she would have spit. Sudden fury trembled through her body. She didn’t understand what was happening, but knew he was the one to blame. She wanted to rage against him, ask how he dared abduct her. She was Amun’s wife, his mortal consort. But the only sound that scratched from her throat was a tiny whimper.

“You have questions,” he crooned from beside her. “We have little time. Pharaoh’s army marches. They will find us soon. We must bury the nameless one, hide him before they can entomb him. No one must ever find his body. He will not sleep in a sarcophagus. No texts will be written to reawaken him, no mask placed over his head so that he may recognize himself in the afterlife. He must not rise.”

Her lashes drifted downward. She remembered the moment the handsome, lying vizier stepped off the plank lowered from the side of the barge.

“Pharaoh is dead,” he’d said, his voice uninflected.

Her heart had grown still. The news was devastating to be sure, but why had he traveled so far from Luxor to tell her?

And then snippets of memories bombarded her mind.

Khepri moaned, spreading her lips and baring her teeth to catch the edges of the strips surrounding her mouth, but they were stiffened and wouldn’t give. Her eyes rounded in fear as she realized how dire was her predicament.

He bent closer, his dark eyes alight with sympathy. But then he moved away. Taking with him his masculine scent, musk she’d found attractive. The odor mocked her now.

Although she feared him, she wanted to cling to the sight of him. Didn’t want to feel so alone, so trapped and helpless. Perhaps she could reason with him. But he was insane. Would no one stop him?

Deep in her mouth, she gurgled, nearly choking on the tears that leaked from her eyes and burned the back of her throat. “Please,” she whispered. From a distance, she heard his footsteps. He drew nearer, holding in one hand a slender reed with one end frayed and trimmed to form a brush and dripping red paint, and in the other a palette, red pigment swirled. He leaned over her and made strokes on the coverings enclosing her chest, down her belly, splitting over her thighs and moving down to her toes.

“What are you doing?” she rasped, as some of the cool liquid seeped through to touch her skin.

“Painting spells, Khepri, Amun’s wife. Introducing you to Set, the protector of souls, entreating him to keep you close until you are needed. To hide you from Osiris so your soul will not be judged. Not yet.”

“Until I am needed? I am needed at the temple.”

He tsked and continued to paint, accompanied by the soft chuffing sounds of bristles rasping on resin-hardened fabric.

Her tears quickened, soaking her skin beneath the wrappings and leaking into her hair. “I am The God’s Wife. You have no right.”

He sighed and strode back into view. When he leaned over her, sympathy no longer shone in his eyes. A deep furrow dug between his sharp dark brows. “I need quiet to think,” he said, his words peppering her like hard pellets. He placed a hand over her nose and mouth, cutting off her air.

Panic made her gurgle, but she was unable to fight. She stared upward at his gleaming eyes until darkness closed over her vision.

* * * * *

Be sure to check out the snippets on these other authors’ blogs:

Myla Jackson
Lauren Dane
Leah Braemel
Caris Roane
Eliza Gayle
Jody Wallace
McKenna Jeffries
Shiloh Walker
Taige Crenshaw
HelenKay Dimon
Lissa Matthews
Felicity Heaton
Mari Carr

Elle kindly offered to give away three prizes! The winners were chosen by
random number generator. They are Karen C, Elizabeth H, and Sharon Chalk!
Congratulations,  ladies!  I’ll send your emails along to Elle so that she can get
with you to arrange delivery of your prizes!

* * * * *

Just Because

I’ve been in a writing funk for the past couple of weeks and I need something to cheer me up. Nothing gives me greater pleasure than to make readers happy. If it’s by the escape I provide, the happily-ever-after I deliver or just saying hello, I hope I make someone else happy in my work. So for all the readers out there, enjoy a good book, take a little journey and have a little fun between the pages. I know where you’re  coming from and enjoy where you’re going to, because I’m a reader too! That’s how I got my start. I love to read, and I love the satisfaction of a great story with a  happy ending.

Leave a comment on why you like to read for a chance to win the prize I’m giving away today in honor of my latest book release VOODOO FOR TWO (CAJUN MAGIC series). The prize? A book and a toy bug. The bug because it’s one of the characters in the book. The book, just because.

Elle’s Bio:

Elle James spent twenty years in South Central Texas, ranching horses, cattle, goats, ostriches and emus. A former IT professional, retired Army and Air Force Reservist, she’s proud to be writing full-time, penning intrigues and paranormal adventures that keep her readers on the edge of their seats or laughing out loud. Now, living in northwest Arkansas, she’s given up wrangling cattle and exotic birds to wrangle her muses, a malti-poo and a yorkie. When she’s not at her computer, she’s traveling, out snow skiing, boating, or riding her four-wheeler, dreaming up new stories.

Social Media:
Website | Blog | Facebook | Twitter | GoodReads

Voodoo For Two Buy Links:
Buy at Amazon
Buy at B&N

About Voodoo For Two:
Be careful what you wish for…

Determined to marry the most eligible bachelor in the parish to save her family, Lucie LeBieu turns a “love bug” loose to cast its Voodoo spell. What she doesn’t count on is hitting two targets—the golden boy congressional candidate, and her Cajun-hot ex. To set things right, she must undo the spell before she falls into bed—-and back in love—with a certain down and dirty heartbreakin’ cop.

Undercover investigator Ben Boyette is back in Louisiana on special assignment when he runs across his old flame, brewing up trouble as usual. But when hometown threats turn deadly, Lucie’s life is on the line. Determined to protect both her and his politician assignment from falling victim to a murderer, Ben finds that he’s the one who’s falling hard…for the irresistible bayou temptress.