You’re not supposed to pick favorites with your kids or your novels. But hey, I’m a rule breaker. I won’t confess to having a favorite child. A waterboarding expert couldn’t get it out of me. My favorite novel on the other hand… Vail Tucker made it impossible for me to keep it under wraps. Take a peek…

Warrior Mine Excerpt

In little less than a second Vail had a decision to make. Option one, continue the draw, shoot her in the head, and hope he could grab the detonator before she depressed it. Option two, leave his gun where it hung, attack with bare hands, get the detonator before she depressed it, and then find out who the hell she was and why she’d broken into his office. Deciding on option two, he released the gun and coiled slightly to strike. But a closer look brought that train to a grinding halt.

A long lever compressed between a slender metal box and her palm. That, combined with the distance she put between them, railroaded a surprise attack.

“Listen carefully,” she demanded in an even tone. “I do not wish to harm any of you nor steal your secrets. But, if you push me, I will lay waste to us all and have completed my task all the same. Do you understand?”

“Yes.” He held his body loose, waiting for any opening, while he catalogued the intruder.

Five-eight, maybe five-nine. Slender frame. Full breasts.

Not important at the moment, Tucker. 

                Still, he couldn’t help but notice how the thin cotton fitted the pretty mounds and dipped at the sway of her waist.

He moved on. Belt with extra magazines. Knife strapped to thigh. Bulge at ankle, probably a small cannon. Dark, sad eyes. Light caramel skin. Smooth. Long lashes.

Again, not important.

                Heedless of the warning, his body stirred.

“Open your left desk drawer.”

Tracking his options, he did as she asked, knowing what came next.

“Remove your gun with two fingers, place it in the drawer without putting your hand inside, then close it.”

Her gaze didn’t rove like his had, but speared him in the solar plexus. A nice trick to watch the surrounding area and your target at the same time.

“What is it you hope to accomplish with this misadventure?”

“Secure your sidearm. Then we’ll talk.”

“I don’t expect talking ranks high on your to-do list,” he said, dropping his weapon into the shallow drawer and pushing it closed.

“It is my list.”

“Really?” For a reason completely concealed from understanding, the words, ‘I think we’d fare better with action,’ tickled his tongue. He swallowed them, but his brow and smirk refused to fall in line.

She surged forward one brimming step. The gloved hand not holding the key to their possible doom snapped to her hip. Her gaze rose and lanced his own.

“Yes,” her sweet voice lashed like the end of a whip.

Vail remained still and watchful, a ready predator to his unsuspecting prey. She calmed in stages, as if summoning all her strength to rein a simmering rage. Again he inspected her eyes. There was no more accurate tell about a person’s mental state than the eyes. They were windows all right—he just didn’t think soul described what they revealed. Intent. Sanity or the lack. Direction. Fear. Malice. Truth and lies. If only they’d differentiate the lies from the truth.

The hue of her big rounds matched his coffee—devoid of cream or sugar—and the eyes that stared back in the mirror every morning. Only where his gave nothing away but the chill of earth’s poles, hers revealed everything. Passion. Fear. Determination. Stability.

“Don’t make this more difficult than it has to be.”

“For you?” he asked.

“For me. For you, Mr. Tucker. For your agents and organization. For your secretary.”

She’d done her homework because she knew just how to tweak him to get the desired results. His people and the security of his organization trumped it all, even his own wellbeing. Most of his people were currently on mission, but the lives of the few who remained were in his hands. Plus the lives of those on the thirty-one floors above them. Yeah it was late, but more and more people put in grueling hours, striving for that next corporate rung or avoiding home life. He couldn’t make a move without endangering their lives. So he’d ride this wave a bit further and look for a safe break for land.

“How can I do that? What’s your name?”

The mask moved around her mouth, but she didn’t speak. A smile, maybe, or a frown. He hated not being able to see her face. The tiny gestures lost behind the knit also gave vital clues to a person’s intentions.

“Pick up your phone, hit only the top left button for your secretary, tell her you need a boost and this coffee isn’t doing the trick. You need her to go get you a triple shot espresso.”

“Would you like anything?”

“I’d like for you to quit being a smart ass.”

Warrior Mine – Base Branch Novel 4
A silver fox learns new tricks.

The Base Branch office in Washington D.C. is so heavily fortified it makes Fort Knox look like a 7-Eleven. After twenty years in covert ops, nothing fazes Commander Vail Tucker. When a lightning bolt of feminine fury crashes into the interrogation room, holds him at gunpoint, and takes over the task with his prisoner, he’s more than surprised. She escapes without a trace, but Vail is unable to remain dispassionate. He must know what is so important the beguiling woman would risk her life to find it.

Carmen Ruez is deadly and desperate—a combustible combination. Born into the remnants of the Arellano Felix Organization, drugs and violence kept her in a gilded cage—until a twist of fate showed her the roots of their riches, making her yearn for freedom. She works for it. Fights for it. But her brother crosses the line to keep her loyal to the treacherous family she is determined to leave behind. Following instinct, Vail uncovers Carmen’s motives and is galvanized by a protective instinct he hadn’t known he possessed. Determination and desire force them to work together to defeat those loyal to Carlos Ruez and the AFO. But are those traits enough to make them fight for a future together?

Tell me in the comments below who your favorite book boyfriend is and what quality made him achieve that rank and one lucky commenter will win a digital copy of Enemy Mine, the first installment of The Base Branch Series.

—

Megan Mitcham
Sizzling Suspense – Are you sizzling yet?

The Base Branch Series
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With the holidays over, it’s time to jump head first into the New Year. This means resolutions. Even if you don’t do New Year’s resolutions, it’s a great time to focus on the things you want to invite into your life for 2015.

I do a mini-business plan that I review with a writer friend each year. We talk about what we want to write, what conferences/appearances we want to attend, and what kind of money we expect to earn. Our reporting and New Year goal setting call takes about two hours to get through. But by the end, we have a master plan. A plan I break down into a calendar plan, then a monthly to do list, then weekly goals. It’s all very complicated, but it works for me.

Personal goals, though, are harder for me to make, track, and, unfortunately, keep. In 2012 I focused on getting healthy and lost fifty pounds through diet and exercise. I wish I could say I kept it off. I haven’t. Once I got comfortable, I started missing workouts and the chips jumped into my cart and somehow, there was Coke in the fridge again.

I just had hip replacement surgery in November, so my eating patterns have been crap for the holidays and my exercise, nill. However, I’m determined to change than starting January 1^st. I’m reaching for the healthy rather than the easy for 2015.

Another area I’m thinking about making changes in is my willingness to try new experiences. Maybe not crazy new, like bungee jumping. I want to make room in my life for other things like local museums I’ve driven by and always wanted to visit. Or the walking path I’ve always wanted to try out.

So what are your New Year’s resolutions this year? Or do you make them?

Lynn

If the Shoe Kills

The tourist town of South Cove, California, is a lovely place to spend the holidays. But this year, shop owner Jill Gardner discovers there’s no place like home for homicide. . .

As owner of Coffee, Books, and More, Jill Gardner looks forward to the hustle and bustle of holiday shoppers. But when the mayor ropes her into being liaison for a new work program, ’tis the season to be wary. Local businesses are afraid the interns will be delinquents, punks, or worse. For Jill, nothing’s worse than Ted Hendricks–the jerk who runs the program. After a few run-ins, Jill’s ready to kill the guy. That, however, turns out to be unnecessary when she finds Ted in his car–dead as a doornail. Officer Greg assumes it’s a suicide. Jill thinks it’s murder. And if the holidays weren’t stressful enough, a spoiled blonde wants to sue the city for breaking her heel. Jill has to act fast to solve this mess–before the other shoe drops. . .

“Murder, dirty politics, pirate lore, and a hot police detective: Guidebook to Murder has it all! A cozy lover’s dream come true.” –Susan McBride, author of The Debutante Dropout Mysteries

Links –
Amazon – https://www.amazon.com/Shoe-Kills-Tourist-Trap-Mystery-ebook/dp/B00KM9O6SQ/ref=la_B0082PWOAO_1_3_title_0_main?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1413423386&sr=1-3
Nook – https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/if-the-shoe-kills-lynn-cahoon/1119633675?ean=9781601832405&itm=1
Goodreads –https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5857424.Lynn_Cahoon
Twitter – https://twitter.com/LynnCahoon
Facebook –https://www.facebook.com/LynnCahoonAuthor
website – https://lynncahoon.com/
Amazon author page – https://www.amazon.com/Lynn-Cahoon/e/B0082PWOAO/ref=ntt_athr_dp_pel_pop_1
 

Bio

USA Today and New York Times, best-selling author, Lynn Cahoon is an Idaho native. If you’d visit the town where she grew up, you’d understand why her mysteries and romance novels focus around the depth and experience of small town life. Currently, she’s living in a small historic town on the banks of the Mississippi river where her imagination tends to wander. She lives with her husband and four fur babies.

Excerpt –

The holidays were supposed to be a time of goodwill, celebration, and community. You couldn’t tell it from the glares going around the table as Mayor Baylor talked. Earlier, the leader of our little town had the group eating out of his hand. Then all hell broke loose. Focusing on the uproar going on at the Business-to-Business monthly meeting, I wondered if the shop owners gathered around the mismatched tables had even seen the calendar. As South Cove’s council liaison, I volunteered my shop each month for the meeting. I’m Jill Gardner, owner of Coffee, Books, and More, and president of the I-Hate-Mayor-Baylor Club. A red-faced Bill Simmons, chair of the business council and owner of South Cove Bed-and-Breakfast, stood at the front of the table, trying to get the group to quiet down.

            Aunt Jackie issued a shrill, earsplitting whistle, two-finger variety. My aunt could make me smile even in the worst situations. She’d been a rock the last year during all the craziness that had been my life. Now I didn’t know what I’d do without her help with Coffee, Books, and More. Or without seeing her on a daily basis.

            The room finally quieted. I’d been the city council liaison with the business community in our little coastal California tourist town for the last five years. I’d never heard this kind of uproar over a mayor’s mandate before. Maybe the Honorable Mayor Baylor was losing a bit of his power over the group.

            “Look, I know it’s a bad time for many of us to take on a charity project, but think of it this way, you’ll have an extra pair of hands for the season.” Bill pulled out what he’d thought would be his trump card.

            “I don’t understand what you’re all so upset about. I got you free help for the busiest season of the year.” Mayor Baylor glared at me, like their reaction was my fault. “These people want to work. We need to be charitable in our attitude.” This time, his scowl was full-on directed at me.

            I put on my sweetest smile, the one I saved for the few customers I truly didn’t like. “I’ve already signed up the coffee shop to participate. How about the rest of you?”

            “Not all of us have South Cove’s finest working part-time in our shops.” Darla Taylor, owner of the winery and editor of the local news for the South Cove Examiner, sniffed. “I heard he couldn’t place these losers anywhere else so Ted paid the mayor to take on these stragglers.”

“That is totally unfounded speculation,” Mayor Baylor blustered, his face turning a bright shade of scarlet. He turned his stare from me to Darla. “I hope I won’t see anything close to that being reported in the Examiner.”

I turned my head so no one would see my smile widen. As one of the local media, Darla’s nose for rumors was spot-on. Ted Hendricks, program director for Bakerstown’s welfare-to-work program, had come to our tourist town of South Cove with an offer. Ten participants would work for eight weeks with a local business in an intern capacity. South Cove was their last chance.

The mayor’s gaze shifted down the table, landing on Josh Thomas, a strong Mayor Baylor supporter. Except even I could see that His Honor wasn’t winning any points with his friend today.

            “Delinquents. You want me to let a delinquent run wild in my store. Talk to my customers and probably scope out my merchandise so they can rob me blind when I turn my back?” Josh owned Antiques by Thomas, the most recent business to open its doors on Main Street. Today, he pounded a chubby finger on the table.

            “Of course, you’d have a problem with this. You don’t even know that they are kids, or if they had trouble with the law. Just because someone is down on their luck doesn’t mean they are a bad person,” Sadie Michaels shot back. Sadie, owner of Pies on the Fly, was my main supplier of desserts for the coffee shop. And a strong advocate for the underdog in any fight.

            We’d gone down this path before. Josh and Sadie rarely saw eye to eye on any discussion. For my part, I liked the way she called him on his prejudice and narrow-mindedness. Bill tried again to short-circuit the argument he saw developing. “We don’t have time for a political discussion on the topic. This is a done deal. They’re coming today for the initial meet-and-greet with a walk through town.

Welcome to 2015!

I hope you all enjoyed heralding the New Year in, and that you aren’t suffering crushing hangovers. I was sensible. When my daughter suffered a migraine, I told her to go to bed and went home. I watched reruns of Chicago Fire and missed the apple/peach/whatever falling altogether. But I believe you should herald in a New Year doing something you intend to continue throughout the year—which makes watching Chicago Fire the perfect entertainment for me. I intend to have sexy men, some of them firefighters, roaming through my imagination all year long. 🙂

I also intend to have exciting guests on my website this year—some familiar, some brand new friends. So let’s begin the way we intend to continue… Meet my brand new friend Rhenna Morgan. ~DD

Most people believe Eden no longer exists. Lexi Merrill’s about to learn they’re wrong. A hard-working bartender with a self-sufficient backbone and a wary nature, she knows pickup lines like a second language. So, when Eryx Shantos barges into her world with too-smooth words and a body to back it up, she locks up her libido and vows to keep her distance.

Eryx has other ideas. As king of the Myren race, Eryx is duty-bound to enforce the laws preventing exposure of their existence to humans. Yet The Fates have led him through his dreams to Lexi, a temptation he doesn’t want to resist. The question—is she Myren, or human, which makes her forbidden fruit?

When Eryx’s nemesis tags Lexi as his next target, Eryx insists on taking her home where he can keep her safe. Lexi had no idea “home” would mean the one-and-only land of creation…or that she’d trigger a prophecy that could doom her newfound race.

Add to your Goodreads TBR List at: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/23269158-unexpected-eden

Buy Links
Amazon   B&N   iTunes   Kobo   ARE   Amazon Canada   Amazon UK    Kensington

Author Bio

Rhenna Morgan writes for the same reason she reads—to escape reality.

Yes, her life rocks—two beautiful little girls, a great husband, a steady job, and the kind of friends that would take you out back if you hurt her. But, like most women, she’s got obligations stacked tight from dusk to dawn. So, when the world gets her down, she slips into something…less realistic.

Romance is a must. So is a steamy romp (or four). Nothing thrills her more than the fantasy of new, exciting worlds, strong, intuitive men, and the sigh of, “Oh if only that could happen to me.”

So, if you’re picking up one of her books, expect portals into alternate realms and men who’ll fight to keep the women they want. Romantic escape for the women who need it.

Author Links
Website: https://rhennamorgan.com/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/RhennaMorgan
Twitter: https://twitter.com/rhennamorgan
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/8596977.Rhenna_Morgan

Excerpt

Slow breaths in, slow breaths out. All Lexi had to do was focus on the thump of Rihanna’s latest hit, keep the drinks flowing, and stick to her half of the bar. The mother lode of testosterone on Jerry’s side couldn’t sit there all night. Could he?

“Don’t suppose you’ve noticed, but there’s a scrumptious not-from-around-here type giving you the eyeball.” Mindy grinned and handed over the latest round of drink orders.

White t-shirt, killer muscles, and dark chocolate hair halfway down his back? Yeah, she’d noticed. Repeatedly. And every time she went for a visual refill, his silver gaze shocked nerve endings she’d long thought dead.

“Drop it, Mindy. Guys like that are an occupational hazard and you know it.”

“Honey, that man is way past hazard. More like Chernobyl.” She leaned into the trendy concrete countertop. The modern pendant lights spotlighted her platinum hair and ample cleavage. One thing about Mindy—she knew how to work her assets. “I’ll bet the fallout’s worth it.”

“It’s packed tonight. You gonna get those drinks out and stash a few tips, or waste ’em on eye candy?”

Mindy’s dreamy smile melted and she pulled the loaded cocktail tray close. “All work and no play, huh?” She shook her head and turned for the crowd. “Have fun with that.”

Well, hell. Another social interaction down the toilet. At twenty-five-years-old, you’d think she could handle a little female bonding in the form of man-ogling. Especially when four of those years had been spent tending bar. But damn it, some things weren’t meant for discussion. Her overactive man-jitters being one of them.

Crouching to snag a fresh bottle of vodka beneath the counter, she peeked behind her. Lips guaranteed to make a girl forget her name curled into a sly smile.
Busted.
She spun away too fast and scraped her forehead against the rough edge of the bar. “Sonof a fucking, no good piece of shit.”

Head down, she counted to three and fought the need to check for witnesses, thankful the music was loud enough to cover her curse. The graceless gawker routine wasn’t normally her deal, but for the last thirty minutes she’d come up woefully short in the finesse department—and it was all the dark-haired man’s fault.

New bottle ready for action, she faced two middle-aged men dressed like frat boys and settled into her pour-and-bill groove. The routine was a comfort, a stabilizing rhythm to counterbalance the ever-present gaze heavy on her back.

“Hey, Lex.” Jerry smacked her shoulder and motioned behind him, never breaking stride as he headed for the register. “Tall, dark and handsome wants to see you.”

She wouldn’t look. Not again. The giggling trio of barely legal blondes fighting their way into ordering range wasn’t nearly as nice on the eyes, but at least they kept her anchored. “Since when did you take up matchmaking?”

“Since the guy offered me a Benjamin to make sure it was you who took care of him.” What? She spun.
The stranger met her surprised stare head on, his smirk a potent mix of humble and confident. “Sold me down the river, did you?”

“Damn right.” Jerry winked, shoved a stack of wrinkled bills into the register, and swaggered toward the waiting blondes without so much as a wish for good luck.

Lexi huffed and took an order from the none-too-shabby twenty-something guy right in front of her on principle. Mystery man could cool his jets for a minute or two. Besides, if his banter matched his looks, she’d need every second she could get to batten down the hatches.

She filled orders with slow deliberation and an extra bit of bravado, grabbing snippets of recon where she could.

A vicious looking man sat next to her dark-haired hunk. Lazy raven waves fell to a hard jawline, a tightly trimmed goatee making his harsh face a downright menace. Entirely the wrong selection for wingman material.

Out of customers and bar space, she faced both men and wiped down of the counter. “What can I get you?” The catchall phrase came out shakier than she wanted, and tried to cover it with an intensive, yet completely unnecessary study of the bottles stocked below the counter.

“You disliked my tactic.” God help her, the man had a voice to match his face. An easy glide that left a slow burn in its wake. Kind of like fifty-year-old Scotch. “I admit it’s not my style, but I was desperate.”

Not exactly the approach she’d expected from a hottie, but it did help ease her tension. “There’s not a thing desperate about you and we both know it.”

He answered with a megawatt smile that damn near knocked her off her feet. Utterly relaxed, he rested muscled forearms on the bar and raised an eyebrow. “Have dinner with me.”

She shouldn’t be able to hear him in such a crush, let alone register a physical impact, but damned if she wasn’t processing both loud and clear. “I don’t even know you.”

He offered his hand. Long, strong fingers stretched out, showing calluses along his palm. “Eryx Shantos.”

Wingman stared straight ahead, his aqua eyes cold enough to freeze a soul.

“Lexi Merrill.” As their palms met, a rush fired up her arm and down her spine, and she shook as though she’d cozied up to a blow dryer in a bathtub. She ripped her hand away and rubbed the tingling center up and down her jean-clad hip.

Eryx didn’t so much as blink, his sword-colored gaze glinting with dare and determination.

Maybe fatigue was taking a toll on her imagination. Or the flu. Or a desperate need to get laid. Gripping the bar for support, she took an order from a cute little brunette trying to avoid a middle-aged, bald guy’s come-on.

Except for a slow pull off his beer, Wingman stayed stock-still. His angry expression screamed, “Stay the fuck back.”

“Now you know me,” Eryx said. “Have dinner with me.”

“I have to work.”

“Then lunch.”

“I work then too.” A lame excuse, but true. Two jobs and part-time college didn’t leave a lot of room for being social. Not that socializing ever managed to work in her favor.

“Breakfast, then.”

A half-hearted laugh slipped out before she could stop it. “You’re persistent, I’ll give you that.”

“You have nooo idea.” Wingman tipped his longneck for another drink, fingers loose around the dark glass despite his tight voice.

Eryx shot him a nasty glare.

“Your friend doesn’t talk much.” Lexi grabbed a few empties and dunked them in a tub of soapy water.

“His name’s Ludan. And he may not be able to talk at all by the time the night’s over. Depends on if he manages to keep his tongue intact.”

“Yo! Need a few Bud Lights.” Two college-age men in need of a manners class shoved their way to Ludan’s free side.

Ludan straightened and pushed the men back a handful of steps with nothing more than a glare.

No way was she dealing with the fallout from a brawl, even if the young punks could use the lesson. “Stand down and kill the scary badass routine.”

Ludan faced her, his eyes a shade closer to white than blue. It took a tense breath or two, but the muscles beneath his black t-shirt relaxed and he smirked. He eased down on his barstool and snagged his beer. “Your woman’s got bite, Eryx.”

She snatched a pair of Buds from the cooler and popped the tops off. “I’m not his woman.”

“Not yet.” Eryx’s calm retort landed between them—part taunt, part promise.

It’s midnight, New Years Day, Hogmanay is just about done and the real party is about to start!

First-footing takes place in Scotland and by some people in northern England. Roots to this tradition go as back as Viking invasions and have changed little. How it works is that the first person to enter a home after midnight starting the new year should be a man with dark hair and carrying tokens cementing good luck for the residents. The most common tokens are a lump of coal, whisky and an oat cake and in return, uisge beatha, water of life (whisky), and food are shared.

Sound fun? It is because throughout the night, as long as the chilled limbs can move, and one more dram can be shared, first-footing continues, house to house, party to party.

By the way, all the parties are not finished after a few days. In case you find yourself in Scotland during January, then you have about three weeks to get rid of the Hogmanay and First-footing hangovers to prepare for Burn’s Night on the 25^th. What does one do in memoriam for Robert Burns besides quote a poem or two? Drink whisky and address the haggis, of course. Serious stuff and yes, there will also be men wearing kilts and pipers at these festivities as well.

If you can’t make it to Scotland, then don’t despair, recreate the fun in your own home with a little help from the internet. Search out recipes, cook some simple things, and share with your family and friends along with a wee dram or three of whisky. A new experience is a great way to launch a new year with a bang!

My latest release is Horse, a historical western erotic romance, and the first book in The Bloody Bucket series. Jack Murphy, Horse, is straight off the boat from Ireland. The American Civil War was finished, rebuilding was starting and he made the trip. There was no way he could follow tradition and dedicate his life to the church as a second son normally does. That was his path in life if he stayed. He started out in New York City, but soon realized it wasn’t for him and moved to Texas. Life in Cowler was exciting, never quiet and serene, and he loved every moment because of her, MaryKate Thompson. You can pick a copy of Horse by Tilly Greene up at All Romance, Amazon, BN, iBooks and Smashwords.

Thank you, Delilah, for giving me the time and space to share my love for Scotland and its history, and my Irishman in Horse. Having just returned from spending the holidays in England, it’s all about that place across the pond for me today.

Tilly Greene
Scorching romances full of twists, turns and ties.
www.tillygreene.com
Blog│Facebook│Pinterest│Twitter

Whether traveling or sitting in her office, Tilly Greene researches and writes erotica and erotic romance novels in a variety of genres and sub-genres like shape shifter, paranormal, contemporary and futuristics, and themes such as BDSM, multiculturalism and ménages. Every day she looks forward to writing about women who are independent and confident, the men who love them, and their twisting passionate path to each other.

Who doesn’t like a gift, even if late? My favorite part about Christmas (as cheesy as this sounds) is giving gifts. Well, it’s the recipient’s reaction that really does it for me. There’s nothing better than the smile of a person you love, except knowing you put it there.

While I let you spend the holiday with your family, I didn’t forget about you. Tell me what is your favorite part of the holidays in the comments below and I’ll give you a digital copy of Versions, the first installment in the Blacklist Series! (Be sure to leave your email address in the comments!) If you love it, tell a friend.

Versions Excerpt

At the most swank eatery until le Diplomate a few blocks up, they passed an outcropping of glass framed in thick rustic metal and then turned right. Through the concrete entrance the hostess’s practiced hands ushered them across the stone floor to their waiting friends.

“Rin!” Jen squealed, hopping from her smooth wooden chair. “Get out. I freaking love your hair. And that dress. Oh my God, are those Choos?” The exuberant brunette fanned herself with Barcelona’s extensive drink menu.

The crowd around them didn’t skip a beat, caught in the din of their own merriment. This place did that and Rin was ready for some indulgence of her own.

“Perfect timing.” Zack’s green eyes shifted behind her, toward the kitchen.

Jen’s breath caught and she leaned to the side, peering around the outfit she’d just gushed over. “Forget your Choos and get a load of our waiter. Please be our waiter. Please be our waiter.”

“They’re called servers,” Gregory chimed with his charismatically crooked grin. He stood, leaned forward, and planted a big one square on Rin’s lips. She released Nate and wrapped Gregory in a fierce hug. “And these days they tend to sue when ogled too forcibly. So, no groping.” He winked and set her back next to Nate.

“Lawyers,” Rin mirrored her best friend’s lopsided grin. “Always spoil the fun.”

She and Nate laughed for the first time since the text, but none of their friends noticed. They all stared in unabashed awe at the person coming to take their order.

“I’m ready to pick a team and erect my flag in the dirt. This guy seals the deal. Gay all the way. Sorry, ladies, but this nugget of manliness has finally made a decision.” Gregory smoothed his hand over the cream cable-knit sweater that hid his leanly muscled physique.

“Erect your flag or your dick? In the ground or our server?” Jen asked. “I have zero qualms about calling him a server because I’d let him service me any day.”

“I prefer the latter.” Gregory sat wide-eyed.

“Something’s wrong with you two,” Zach announced.

“But I don’t see you looking away,” Nate noted. “And I hope y’all know what you want to drink. Jen and Greg, your prayers are answered in three, two…”

Rin couldn’t get over her friends’ reaction to this guy enough to turn and look for herself. She needed this camaraderie to ease the sting of loneliness, even though Nate’s beefy hand wrapped securely around her upper arm. The realization of the superficiality of their relationship—crazy text or not—raised the curtain and left her standing on stage in nothing but her sparkling personality.

“Evening, gentlemen. Ladies.” The silken honey of the unfamiliar voice coated her nakedness in a soothing balm. The waiter cleared his throat. The low rumble vibrated very near her ear. “What can I get you, miss?”

She canted her head in his direction. Surprise smacked her square in the face.  Smoldering bedroom eyes gazed into hers. The crystal blue orbs pierced through a strong brow and straight into her soul. Rin stepped back, stumbling over Nate’s feet. A thud sounded her landing against her boyfriend’s hard chest.

“Whoa, there,” the waiter said, maintaining an invisible grip on Rin that made it impossible to look away.

Blond hair only a shade darker than her own sat in disarray across his forehead, but was shorn close around his ears. The hint of a beard hugged the strongest jaw she’d ever seen. Lips the perfect shape and fullness for hours and hours of kissing would have softened the blow his appearance delivered, if he’d only smile.

“You startled me,” she said by way of explanation for her odd behavior.

“Wasn’t my intention.” He said the words, but his head ticked to the side and his eyes flared in a way that opposed them.

“What’s your name, gorgeous?” Jen asked.

“Call me Luck,” the waiter said, holding Rin’s befuddled gaze.

Nate steadied her and shifted to place himself between her and the…her and Luck, but a massive party of suits poured in to their left. They crowded the walkway with banter and briefcases. The man screwing with her head—more than her shrink ever had—could have stepped to the side of the table toward Zach. Instead, he stepped forward, crowding her with his sharply muscled chest tucked neatly into a waiter’s white button down. Chiseled forearms and lightly sun-kissed skin shown at his rolled sleeves.

Whether someone shoved him or he took a dive she wasn’t sure, but his sinewy chest suddenly plastered her front. One arm wrapped around her waist, catching her in a subtle dip. His other shot out to the chair back to steady them. She swore she heard Gregory moan. Luck’s muscles in action did something sinful to her psyche.

“Jackass, I’m not into threesomes,” Nate blustered just behind her head. She’d see him, if she’d tear her gaze off Luck. But she couldn’t.

Luck lifted his heavy blue gaze from her for the first time and squared it on Nate. “Me neither.”

Versions – $0.99
https://www.amazon.com/Versions-Blacklist-Book-Megan-Mitcham-ebook/dp/B00PL71GOQ/ref=asap_B00D25T9WK?ie=UTF8

Megan Mitcham
Sizzling Suspense – Are you sizzling yet?

The Base Branch Series
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The house my grandmother owned in the 50s and 60s was supposedly haunted by a ghost she named Ethel Beth. This house was located in Los Angeles, not far from Century City, in a neighborhood of homes. In fact, it was a rather nice neighborhood (probably still is). Nothing spooky about it, really.

Ethel Beth had been known to open windows (the kind that had to be pushed upward), turn on lights, and throw hats out of a closet. I never witnessed any of her antics, but more than one person admitted to seeing these things. Now, whether this was a story that people loved to get in on, or Ethel Beth really existed, I’ll never know.

And while I loved to visit my grandmother and listen to the stories, I wasn’t always so keen on spending the night. Every noise spooked me! I never saw any sign of Ethel Beth, though (maybe she knew I was scared).

But the stories always intrigued me. Ghosts intrigue me. So when my husband suggested I write a book with a ghost, I thought, why not? And that’s how Ghostly Liaison was born (to be released on January 19, 2015 through Lyrical Press/Kensington).

Avoiding love is hard. Catching a killer can be fatal…

When Rob’s sister passed away, she left him her dog and her house. He can handle the dog part, but he doesn’t need another home. Especially a fixer-upper the neighbor swears is haunted. Then he meets Bridget, who’s working on getting her life back together after a car accident left her scarred in more ways than one. She can’t pass up Rob’s offer of free lodging, regardless of the shape it’s in. Or the roommate that’s part of the package. She’s never believed in ghosts, but now she’s living with one who wants Bridget’s help in catching a killer. There’s only one problem: the killer has unfinished business…

So… If you saw ghosts (and didn’t die of fright), would you tell anyone? How might you go about doing that? Well, this is how Bridget tells Rob in the following excerpt from Ghostly Liaison:

Rob scooted closer and placed his hand on her knee. “The whole incident was in the papers. Could we please talk about something less depressing?”

Bridget’s heart sped up from his touch. “Like…like what?”

“I don’t know. Movies, TV, the weather.” He removed his hand from her knee and stroked her fingers. His warmth zinged through her extremities.

Her heart went from double-time to whoa-baby-come-to-mama. She had to stop his advances and sitting with her legs wide open was probably inviting him in. She lowered her knee and straightened. Wrong move. That only gave him more room and he scooted closer.

He smelled good—of soap and wood—and grasped her hand before she could pull it away. “What are you afraid of, Bridget? Did some guy break your heart?”

“Sure, what girl hasn’t had her heart-broken.” She stared at his lips. Would it be so bad if they kissed? Kisses were just kisses, not a commitment. “How is it you’re still free? You a playboy?”

His smile made his eye gleam. “Not a playboy. Never found the right woman. Until…maybe…now.”

He held the back of her head. With the sound of blood rushing in her ears, she closed her eyes. He brushed his lips across hers and she leaned into them. What started out soft gradually became hard, almost as if he was staking a claim. She opened to him and he thrust his tongue in, exploring. He tasted better than she imagined, a mix of beer and pizza and something uniquely him.

He rubbed his thumb against her nipple and she moaned into his mouth. It had been too long since someone had last touched her. She craved everything he had to offer.

Slowly, he trailed his hand down her body, ending at her core. Frozen in place, she gradually thawed as he stroked her. She grew wet for him. Tentatively, she placed her hand on his chest, wishing the shirt would disappear. The buttons were at her fingertips. Could she slip her hand in?

He was nuzzling her neck when her mind cleared. Shit! Charlie was probably in the room.

Watching.

“I see dead people.” Hell’s bells. That had come out all wrong.

*~*~*~*

Buy Links (available for pre-order)

Amazon: 
https://www.amazon.com/Ghostly-Liaison-Stacy-McKitrick-ebook/dp/B00OZUMI7E/ref=sr_1_7?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1414875823&sr=1-7&keywords=stacy+mckitrick
Barnes & Noble:
https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/ghostly-liaison-stacy-mckitrick/1120657538?ean=9781616506377
Kobo:
https://www.kobobooks.com/ebook/Ghostly-Liaison/book-GzLyRUdu9Eala9IQ1BMMDw/page1.html?s=imnGgimVgEy0ZdR5BRjfTw&r=1
Google:
https://play.google.com/store/books/details/Stacy_McKitrick_Ghostly_Liaison?id=AFgcBQAAQBAJ
Kensington:
https://www.kensingtonbooks.com/book.aspx/31120?category=313157

Stacy McKitrick fell in love with paranormal romance, decided to write her own and found her passion in life. She used to work in accounting, now she spends her time with vampires, ghosts, and aliens. Born in California, she currently resides in Ohio with her husband. They have two grown children. www.StacyMcKitrick.com

I was asked this the other day. Never thought about it before actually. It was just an “is”. An “is” I am immensely thankful for!

So I sat down and actually thought about it. I have quite a few reasons. So go get a nice cold….err….warm beverage and get comfy.

1. Sex sells. This one is really easy and pretty much genre wide. Sex is awesome. People like it and they like to read about it.

2. The advent of the e-reader. You can be ANYWHERE with an e-reader and you can read ANYTHING without being afraid people will judge you. That’s hot for a lot of people. You could be reading War and Peace, or The Bible, or Debbie does Cleveland. That’s awesome! So as long as you don’t start moaning in the middle of the park you’re all set. Well I guess you can moan in the middle of the park but make sure you know how to cover it with a cough.

3. And since we’re on the topic – let’s talk about people feeling judged. Seriously. I think some people have decided to take it upon themselves as the judge and jury of the entire human race and they are vocal about it. Damn. I wished they’d just shut it. Yeah. That would fix a lot of the problems in the world. Everyone is entitled to their opinion. Yes They Are!! No doubt about it. But you know what? THEY DON”T HAVE TO SHARE IT. With social media, forums, blogs, groups, etc. Lots of like-minded people can come together to discuss their favorite books. No judging. Just awesomeness!

4. Empowerment – I think a lot of readers of erotic romance feel empowered by reading things that turn them on. Things that maybe made them feel less than in the past but now their desires are more main stream. Validation is intoxicating.

5. And I’m going to end with More is MORE. I know for me personally soft and sweet romances just don’t do it for me. It’s nice…and all…but it’s just not what I’m looking for to fill my precious free time. And I read one and I NEED another one when I’m done. I NEED to know I have more yummy smut waiting for me.

So to celebrate smutty awesomeness let’s have a giveaway! To one lucky poster I’ll be giving one spanking “giggle” new e-book copy away of Nico’s Curse.

Just leave me a comment below and let me know why erotic books cream your twinkie!!

And don’t forget to sign up for my newsletter! Awesome new releases and giveaways and tidbits of yummytastic info about me.

Thanks for reading and here’s a bit of info to tantalize you into giving Nico a chance to win your heart…

Domenico was cursed six long years ago by a witch determined to teach him a lesson. A lesson in life, loss, and understanding that to love is to put someone first…always.

His only escape from his beautiful prison is a dating site called Crossroads. He can choose only one woman a year to contact. One woman to convince, in nothing more than a week, that he’s worthy of her love. But there’s a catch. She must fall asleep during a video chat so he can crawl through his laptop into her world. Then all bets are off.

His curse becomes his salvation when his beautiful submissive Rose is nothing but a dream away.

A Romantica® BDSM erotic romance from Ellora’s Cave

Buy Links
Amazon Kindle
Barnes & Noble
Ellora’s Cave

Need a bit more on the kinky and naughty side? I’ve gotcha covered!!

The books in the Members Only Series can be found here…

Together In Cyn
Haleigh’s Ink
A Very Ménage Christmas
Duke’s Valentine
Orgasm University
Accidental Voyeur
Roman’s To-Do List
Laila’s Lies
Jenna’s Consent

Stand Alone

Buried Permission
Beneath the Pages
Nico’s Curse

Jennifer Kacey is a writer, 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.

Website – https://www.jenniferkacey.com/
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