What does a coffee CEO and reggae bandleader have in common with a cup of coffee?
-Hot
-Strong
-Keeps you awake all night
-Great to wake up to
When I planted the seeds of romance for Latasha, the heroine’s best friend in Jamaican Temptation, I didn’t know which man she’d actually get with in the next book. Fast forward to the day I sat down to write this book, and I still couldn’t decide. She demanded BOTH men. I’ve learned never argue with the characters, so here is her fantasy…
Having grown up in foster care, Latasha looks forward to a stable happily-ever-after with K.C., her Jamaican boyfriend. But his band, Caribbean Climax, is flat broke. When Jonathan Lance, CEO of Third Mountain Coffee, propositions her for one paid night of ecstasy, she does it for her and K.C.’s future.
Jonathan has admired Latasha from afar since the day he met her, but his company comes first. His father, who controls part of it, would never approve of an interracial relationship. After the business transaction, however, emotional ties remain, and Latasha is torn between two men who differ in every way.
And when the unthinkable happens, will her choice be easier—or impossible?
K.C. planted a proprietary hand against the small of her back as they stood in front of him. “You the one paying,” he told Jonathan. “What you want us to do?”
“Kiss her.”
Every nerve ending in Latasha’s body sizzled as K.C.’s dark, sensual lips lowered to hers. Knowing the other man observed them made everything feel twice as erotic. The stiff hairs of her boyfriend’s moustache scraped her upper lip. Jonathan had a slight one as well. Would it feel similar?
She rested her hands on K.C.’s shoulders when he slipped his tongue into her mouth. Her nipples hardened against the thin material of the dress, making her wish she’d worn a different one, with a bra.
Gentle but persistent, his lips claimed every bit of her mouth. He hadn’t kissed her so thoroughly in a long time. She guessed he wanted to give Jonathan a good show so he could get his money’s worth. Or maybe he wanted to prove no one could pleasure her as well as he could.
Whatever his reasons, she’d enjoy the ride. This wasn’t so bad. She could think of tougher ways to earn money.
When he finished, her fingers were interlaced in his braids, practically supporting her weight because she’d gone boneless. His tongue had also gone so deep she ached to taste the rest of him.
Encircling her waist, K.C. turned toward Jonathan. “Dat suit you all right, mon?”
“Perfect.” Had the other man’s eyes grown bluer since she’d last glanced at him?
“What next?” K.C. asked.
“Take off her dress. Slowly.”
Oh crap. Things just got difficult. A deep, insistent ache filled her cunt as K.C. stood behind her, giving Jonathan a full frontal view. She shivered as her man slid one thin strap off her shoulder, then the other, and unfastened several buttons.
The tight dress clung to her hips, which luckily kept it from falling straight to the floor. But her exposed breasts pebbled with gooseflesh. The nipples, already erect, swelled into large peaks.
She didn’t even have to look because she saw her nudity mirrored in Jonathan’s eyes. Her flesh burned, feeling raw and exposed. When K.C.’s hands slid down her sides, to push the rest of the dress past her hips, she covered half her face with a palm and clapped the other across one of her breasts.
“God, your tits are so full and beautiful,” Jonathan breathed. “I knew they would be.”
She stepped out of her sandals to steady herself, but the deep beige carpet caressed her bare feet, making her feel more erotic.
“Wait! I don’t know if I can do this.”
What was wrong with her? She had to earn that check and help K.C. keep his band. Convincing him to do this shenanigan had been harder than herding elephants. It was too late to chicken out.
Both men waited, silent, as they watched her.
After taking a shaky breath, she fanned her flushed face and nodded. “Sorry. I’m okay, now.”
“You sure?” K.C. asked.
“Take your time, sweetheart,” Jonathan said. “We have all night.”
It’s been a while since I’ve done a list. Well, not really, but that’s not going to stop me from writing this one. So, with no further introduction, I’ll begin.
Taking a candlelight bath together with bath oils and rose petals. The mutual bathing is romantic. Everything else is tricky. First, not all bath oils smell so hot. Be sure to select a scent your partner will enjoy. Second, be certain there is a safe place to set the candles. Sure, there will be plenty of water (not necessarily a good thing, but I’ll get to that later), but the last thing a person wants is to bump a candle over while getting busy and setting the shower curtain or a bath rug ablaze—unless arson and pyromania are the things that turn you on. (BTW, I have a half dozen Def Leppard songs in my head now.) On the flip side, one doesn’t want to prematurely douse out the flame and have to fumble out of a slippery tube in the dark. Either situation possibly could lead to a 9-1-1 call. Third, rose petals smell great but not so much when they are clogging your drain. But don’t worry. Your plumber will love you even if your wallet won’t.
Going on an outdoor picnic. This can be super romantic but not if you fail to check the weather conditions first, place the blanket on a mound of fire ants, do it during lovebug mating season, forget the mosquito spray, bring an open container to a place where alcohol is prohibited, select a site that is overly crowded, or attract a bear.
Calling in sick at work to spend the day with your significant other. This only works if you plan on staying in the entire day or you’re the boss. There’s always that one coworker itching to rat you out if they see you galivanting about town went you’re supposedly in bed with a fever. I know what you’re thinking. You’ll spend the day out of town. Ha! Keep these precious Disney words in mind: “It’s a small world after all”. Multiple times, I’ve been in locations over a hundred miles from work (taken off with permission) and bumped into coworkers. Once, I bumped into my supervisor, who, incidentally, had given me a hard time about approving my time off.
Going skinny dipping in a public pool, sauna, hot tub, or beach. Be warned, if caught there’s a possibility of going to jail, being given a fine, or both. Worse is if your body isn’t swimsuit ready, your unintended spectators may laugh, point, heckle, and post photos/videos on social media.
Cooking a romantic dinner for your partner. It’s only romantic if you do the dishes, too.
Placing an inedible object in your partner’s drink or meal. All I can say is, I hope you’re up-to-date on performing CPR or your partner has a very good dental plan.
Allowing your partner to sleep in. Check the calendar first to ensure you aren’t allowing your partner to miss his/her sister’s or best friend’s wedding or not being present for that important business meeting that could lead to a promotion/raise.
Writing a love poem. Let me rephrase that. Taking credit for a love poem you didn’t write, especially if you plagiarize from a famous poet and your partner is a literature major.
Treating you partner out for a night on the town but forgetting your wallet/purse. This also doesn’t work if you’re over the limit on all of your credit cards. Hint: Look, if you can’t afford an expensive date, plan an inexpensive one. There’s plenty of romantic activities that won’t macerate the piggy. Your partner will understand.
Lip syncing a romantic song. Even if you’re tone deaf and can’t hold a single note for three seconds, your partner would prefer to hear your voice massacre a song rather than watch you lips sync. So, go ahead and belt it out.
Don’t forget to visit Creole Bayou again. New posts are made on Wednesdays. If you have any questions or suggestions about this post or any others, feel free to comment below or tweet me at @dolynesaidso. You also can follow me on Instagram at genevivechambleeauthor or search me on Goodreads or Amazon Authors.
Enjoy sports romance? Check out my new adult romance, Defending the Net, being released in November. It is the second in my hockey series and guaranteed to melt the ice. Preordering information coming soon. Crossing the line could cost the game.
Missed the first in my hockey romance series? Don’t worry. Out of the Penalty Box, an adult romance where it’s one minute in the box or a lifetime out is available at https://amzn.to/2Bhnngw. It also can be ordered on iTunes, Nook, or Kobo. For more links where to purchase or to read the blurb, please visit https://bit.ly/2i9SqpH.
Copies of all my books and stories are available in paper, eBook, and audio on Amazon, iTunes, Kobo, and Barnes & Noble. The links are listed in my Writing Projects page (https://bit.ly/2iDYRxU) along with descriptions of each of my novels or stories.
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Hi, Delilah. I’m happy to be with you today as we ease (hopefully) into fall.
Well, if I ever doubted Climate Change and Global Warming, which I never did, this summer proved that our Earth is going through some troubling times. The Rim of Fire in the Pacific is working overtime. The glaciers are melting at a shocking pace giving us an actual Northwest Passage. The super volcano at Yellowstone is starting to worry me. And here in Maine we had the summer from hell.
It started slow with a snowstorm in mid-April (the morning of my birthday on the 20th actually, what a birthday present), cold weather for our annual International Marathon in late June, and then finally in July the 80 degree temps set in and lasted for two months. Normally we get a couple of days of 80 degrees in late August early September, but this year was a scorcher. It was made worse by the fact that most homes and business in Downeast Maine don’t have air-conditioning. In fact, last night I was considering going out to my car and turning on the A/C and sleeping in the back seat!
I was so looking forward to a bumper crop of raspberries and blackberries. Spring was glorious with their blossoms. But it was so hot that most of the berries scorched on the vine. Just shriveled up like raisins.
The heat has been especially bad on our wildlife. I’ve seen no deer or moose, just some signs of coyotes and a bunny that has stayed with us visiting every morning and evening when the temps are a little cooler. I haven’t seen a single hummingbird and normally they are numerous. But a bird built a nest in the top of my propane tank and laid some eggs. One is still there, unhatched. I think it got too hot before the poor thing was ready.
But some good things came out of this strange weather. My yard turned into crispy weeds instead of lush rye grass, so a saving on my landscaping expenses. The bugs were scarce until just the last week or so because we had an almost rain-free season. Then last week the mosquitoes, and we have huge ones up here, realized that if they didn’t get busy and start biting, their summer would be wasted.
Now the weather is turning. Today the high is 63 degrees and I saw a flock of Canadian Geese beginning their yearly migration south this morning. And with the cooler temperatures, all my apples (I have many trees, wild ones) will be ripening. I’m madly searching for a recipe for crabapple jelly now. And I have several trees near my house with apples the size of cranberries. I wonder how I prepare those?
However, now that it’s autumn (almost) I’m anticipating my most productive time of the year. I’ve just received the edits from my editor for my next book, The Russian Phoenix, the prequel to the last book in my High Tide Suspense series, Precious Stone. It’s what I call a fictional memoir—the story of a young Russian girl, her turbulent life in the 20th century including the Romanov Jubilee year of 1913, and her life adapting to the changes that threaten to overcome her during the rest of the century. It will be published in just a few weeks.
I’ve also started research on my next series, Wolf Moon. I’m very excited about that. I get to use my bachelor’s degree in anthropology! The first book, and I don’t have a title yet, is about a Shoshone girl, Glory, from the Wind River Reservation in Wyoming. The series begins in 1949 and each of the books in the series uses as the protagonist, one of the sons-daughters on the family tree of Glory Grey Wolf. There’s some mysticism, some politics, some adventure! Visit my Facebook page, www.facebook.com/AuthorMinEdwards where I’ll keep you up-to-date with my progress.
Have a perfect Autumn!
Min
Min’s Books
A gift of thanks to a young girl from the Tsar more than 100 years ago… and now the Russians want it back.
Collee McCullough, the owner of The Bakery in Stone Bay, Maine, has a perfect life until early one morning men in suits come calling. She has something someone dangerous wants. Something that her Russian great-grandmother Natasha took when she fled Russia in 1913. Too bad great-gran never told her family what she had or where she left it.
Jake Elsmore, visiting Stone Bay to sell his mother’s house, walks into The Bakery for a cup of Earl Grey tea, but gets more. There she is. A sprite in a flour-dusted apron, stepping out from behind a big burly policeman; a lovely, fiery-haired fairy toting a shotgun while two men are laying insensate on the floor of her shop. Looks like that tea will have to wait.
Russia: 1913. A time of celebration; a time of turmoil for Russia. But for Natasha it’s a time of horror.
Natasha, a young cousin of Alexandra Feodorovna Romanova, the Empress Consort of all the Russias, is eighteen and living a life she never dreamed. The year is 1913, the 300th Jubilee Year of the Romanov rule and it has been filled with fêtes, balls, and excitement.
But the night of the last ball of the season a burgeoning love affair goes horribly wrong and she’s kidnapped and whisked out of Russia. Her adventures change her life in ways she could never imagine and take her far from home. But her travails forge her into a strong, resourceful woman of the new century.
Look for this, coming soon!
*~*~*
About the Author
Min Edwards is the pen name of archaeologist, former bookstore owner, and eBook designer (A Thirsty Mind Book Design), Pam Headrick. She is a life-long Texas girl who on a whim decided to leave the heat of Central Texas and move to her property on the coast of Maine. What was she thinking? Now Lubec, the most eastern town in the USA is her home. She writes from a desk near her kitchen window in an almost 200-year-old farmhouse overlooking apple trees, mating pheasants, rabbits which turn from brown to white in the winter, and the occasional moose. Just down the road is her private beach which is unfortunately not sand but shingle… small stones which have been tumbled by the surf for eons. And they sing when the 30-foot tides of the area wash over them. Her muse and constant companion is Zach, a 12-year-old black German Shepherd who offers comedic relief when she needs it… like when one of her characters is not following orders or a plot has imploded and it looks like it’s time to start over.
Throughout history, The Lady, Goddess of the Lycan world, has gifted werewolf packs with humans who carry her mark. Theodora Morrissey’s plans to return to college for her graduate degree are ended when she is awakened by an otherworldly voice on a rarely used airstrip in Nebraska. Injured and disoriented, she has no idea the discoloration on her back has marked her as a Seer, and that she is now a possession—and the prisoner—of the Novus Pack of Lycans.
To the Novus pack, the word of their leader, their Laird, is the law. With compelling gray eyes and long dark hair, Raider Black rules his pack with intelligence and ruthlessness. To cement the security of his pack, Black has committed to mate another Packleader’s daughter. But he’s finding it impossible to fight his attraction to the pack’s alluring new Seer, claiming her as his own.
Sweet, fearless, and unintentionally funny, Theo upends Black’s world and pushes the boundaries of his rules. How far is Raider willing to go, and what will he sacrifice, to save both his pack and the human Seer who’s found a way not only into his bed, but his heart?
Series: Romancing the Seas Book 1 Genre: Contemporary Romance, Erotic Romance, Romantic Comedy, Holiday Romance Publisher: Boroughs Publishing Publication Date: September 11, 2018
When Piper’s job sends her undercover to spy on Jack – the beyond sexy hook-up she can’t stop thinking about – she is forced to decide if her job is more important than her happiness.
HAPPINESS HAS A PRICE
Captain Jack Spencer owns and runs a whale watching company, Ahoy, Matey. When his business takes off, a jealous rival wants him and his company gone. Jack has no idea the delectable Piper Goldhirsch is tasked with scuttling everything he’s worked for – he’s too caught up in their magnetic attraction and her web of lies.
Piper Goldhirsch, head reporter for the tabloid TV show Business Buster, is all work and no play. When she and the all too tempting Jack Spencer have a one-night stand that turns out to be the greatest sex of her life, she is haunted by the powerful magic between them. Sent undercover to expose his whale watching business, she is torn between her assignment and the first man she has ever wanted. With her happiness on the line, Piper has only one choice.
She lifted her bare foot. He held her ankle with more delicacy than she’d expected from such a big man. As he slid the flat back onto her foot, his thumb grazed the indent near her anklebone. She shivered at the sensation. This close, the ocean blue of his eyes shone with intensity as he watched her. What did he look like beneath the costume and makeup? She’d noticed his sexy, crooked smile and the roguish way the corner of his mouth lifted up, as if he knew something she didn’t. His fingers wrapped around the back of her ankle, then stopped. She met his hungry eyes and nudged her leg forward into his hand. His fingers slid up an inch further, moving in a slow, barely there caress.
“I realize it’s none of my business,” he said. “But earlier, out in the ballroom…I don’t know what your friends said or did to make you upset, but if I can help at all, I’d like to.”
“I’m okay. Just shaking something off.” She took a sip from the wine bottle as she watched him. She moved her foot closer to his chest urging his hand closer to her calf. His long fingers stroked her flesh.
She closed her eyes. “Mmm, that feels nice. Don’t worry about what they said. You got a name, pirate?”
“Jack.”
His tone was serious. She looked back down at him and smirked. Two could play that game.
“Oh, of course. You’re Captain Jack, and I’m Little Red Riding Hood. C’mere.” He stood and met her eye to eye. At five feet nine, she often had a vantage point in height in the workplace, which served her well when she wanted to be intimidating, but he had well over four inches on her, easy. His big, muscular frame towered over her. She took another sip of wine and walked her fingers up the buttons of his waistcoat. “Can I level with you, Captain Jack?”
“Yes.”
She pushed aside the question of why she felt so at ease with him when all she’d wanted was to be alone and smoothed her palm over his white pirate shirt, his strong pectoral muscles firm beneath her fingers. When she next spoke, her voice broke as she remembered why she’d sought solace in the first place; she’d gotten a man and his whole family deported.
“See, I’ve had a hell of a hard year. I’ve pushed myself and made magic happen in ways I didn’t think I’d ever be able to, but that magic comes at a price, and I’m not okay with it. Every single day, people want a piece of me. And on normal days, I can handle it. But right now, all I want to do, since you’re here,” she moved closer, her lips inches from his, “and I’m here, is to forget it all and make some magic of our own I can hold onto, even if it’s just this little moment.”
His chest rose and fell as he scanned her. Clarity and kindness were evident in his eyes beneath the desire, and she knew she could have a little fun with him. She noticed that his palms clenched the more she rubbed against him. She smirked, grabbed the lapels of his waistcoat, and crashed her lips onto his.
THE WOMAN WAS unreal. Her thick, pouty lips moved against his, and no sooner had she kissed him full on the mouth than he seized her around her wasp-sized waist and laid claim. She was the sexiest woman he’d ever seen, and her curves were soft and perfect in his hands. His tongue sought entrance to her mouth, and she met him eagerly. She tasted like strawberries and wine, and he groaned as his fingers slipped into her curls. It had been forever since he’d kissed a woman. She scored full check marks in every category, and then some.
Chances were she merely wanted a nice make-out session, but his body already demanded more. He wrapped his arms around her, spanned his hand against her back, and traveled down to the curve of her delectable ass. She shivered against him; the movement went straight to his hardened cock. He nipped her lower lip as he squeezed her bottom.
“Oh, you are one big firecracker, aren’t you? Tell me your name.”
She wrapped her ankle around the back of his calf as she hauled him in close. “No names,” she breathed.
He kissed her and moaned when she rubbed her core against him through their clothes. All right, he’d play along. For now. But he would take the lead.
About Roxanne D. Howard
Roxanne D. Howard writes sizzling erotic romance with Boroughs Publishing Group and The Wild Rose Press. She is a U.S. Army veteran, and a Columbia College alumni. She loves to read poetry, classical literature, and Stephen King. Also, she is an avid Star Wars fan, musical theater nut, and marine biology geek. Roxanne resides in the western U.S., and when she’s not writing, she enjoys spending quality time with her husband, children, and furry companions. Roxanne loves to hear from her readers, and encourages you to contact her via her website and social media.
Okay, I’m going to come right out and admit it. My confession/admission might get me in trouble with some erotica readers, but I have my big girl pants on and can take it.
There’s a popular among some people erotica genre that focuses on a submissive/dominant relationship that IMO takes a relationship to the extreme. I’m talking about daddy/baby scenarios. I admit I’ve only read a couple of them all the way through, but I’ve read enough blurbs to feel I understand how they’re structured. In essence (and correct me if I’m making this too simple) the dominant male insists that the female under his control act and is treated like a small child, complete with diapers and a crib. For reasons I don’t get, the women go along with the treatment. They might object in the beginning, but then it seems, something kicks into their brains and they decide to explore and even enjoy the situation. Often the so-called hero has staff or relatives that help raise the ‘child’. The whole house is set up to accommodate what doesn’t seem at all like playacting to me.
Okay, here’s where I jump on my soapbox. No way do I see any redeeming qualities in a man who treats a woman like that. I also don’t think much of a formally independent woman who goes along with such a demeaning show.
That said, to each their own. After all, I often write about capture situations. Note that I didn’t say the word fantasy since in my stories, the capture and its aftermath is the real deal and not some play situation the characters have agreed to. A shrink might say I need help. All I know is a lot of readers buy into those stories, and I’m here to thank them.
Wolf’s Storm
Forced together by a mountain snowstorm and their smashed cars, two loners are fated to spend a night together. Once the cabin door closes behind them, need takes over. They must have sex, only sex, not a relationship. But the nearby dark wolves have their own agenda.
Thank you, Delilah, for having me as a guest blogger on this special day!
Today is my birthday. Many people I know stopped caring about birthdays sometime in their mid-twenties. After that pivotal 21st, which marked the ability to go bar-hopping using your actual ID, birthdays seem to be just one more reminder of the slippage of time. One more year older and, if you’re lucky, one more year wiser.
Some people don’t care for their birthdays because it’s another step towards their own mortality. Others, like my husband, simply don’t like the attention.
I am not one of these people. I love my birthday. It’s the one guilt-free day of the year I get to enjoy being fussed over, and I can be as lazy as I like. And I get pie – because everyone knows, there’s no calories in anything you eat on your birthday.
Over the years, I’ve had some truly terrific and truly terrible birthdays. My 21st birthday was spent in a foreign country, mostly by myself, watching Princess Di’s funeral. Kind of a letdown. My 39th, however, was one of the best I ever had, with a surprise party back in my hometown that included friends and family I hadn’t seen in years. My adult stepchildren even made the five-hour trek north to be there.
I’m now firmly ensconced in my 40s, and I still love marking my birthday as much this year as I did when I was 5, 16, or even 39. With every passing year, I find I give one less care – about what people think, about what society expects, about what a woman my age is supposed to be/think/do. Instead, I can focus on what I love – my family, my friends, my writing. It’s incredibly liberating.
Each birthday, to me, isn’t a step closer to “old age” or “knocking on death’s door”. It marks the passing of yet another amazing year – one that saw two more published books, children’s milestones, a special anniversary. And it presents another challenge for the next year. If this year was so good, how am I going to make the next even better? I don’t know… but I can’t wait to find out!
*~*~*
Cate Tayler is a beach baby, born and raised on the Connecticut coastline. She met the love of her life while serving in the US Air Force, and after extensive overseas travel, they are now raising their four children in the wild suburbs of Maryland.
Love Me Harder, the next installment in her Mystic Point series, releases October 1st.
Take two spicy chefs. Stir in a meddling mentor and a deadline for success. Pepper with hot sex and longing looks. A recipe for love…or will it all go up in flames?
The First Course…
Juliet Winslow earned her saltiness. The sassy chef made a fresh start in Mystic Point after divorcing her cheating bastard of a husband. Now the renowned head chef of the local French bistro is living the free life she wants, surrounded by good friends and the occasional casual fling. Until one tempting night with a scrumptious cowboy gives her a taste of what she’s missing.
The Main Course…
Nate Faulkner is on a mission. After discovering the truth of his parentage, the cowboy chef left his Montana home determined to prove his worth to his family and the father he yearns to know. His chance comes when his mentor agrees to invest in a restaurant with him, a small French bistro in a beach town in Connecticut. Nate has big plans for reinventing the place, but the tasty head chef who comes with the business is cooking up all sorts of distractions and threatening to throw his carefully planned menu into chaos.
Dessert…
A battle of wills is being whipped up in the kitchen. The harder Juliet and Nate fight against the attraction simmering between them, the hungrier they get for one another. But do they have the right ingredients for a happily-ever-after?
