UPDATE: The winner is…Fedora Chen!
*~*~*

Happy Octoberfest, y’all. This is one of my most favorite months of the year, next to Christmas. I start decorating October 1st and leave all the pretty fall décor up until the day after Thanksgiving…and then it’s Christmas at the Boon house—LOL.

Of course, this year it’s super special because I’m a MiMi to my first grandchild. Technically she was here last year, but she was only a few months old so she couldn’t really enjoy it herself. Now this year, we’ve already planned her Halloween outfit, which consisted of buying stuff, and then I tweaked it to make her outfit unique. I can’t wait to put it on her and take her out Trick Or Treating. I only hope she doesn’t FREAK OUT when she sees all the other people in costumes. However, she’s loved the big scary blow up things at TARGEE aka Target.

If you follow me at all, then you’ve probably seen a few…thousand pics of RomyGirl, but just in case, I’ll share a little collage of some sneak peaks we were given from her Fall Photoshoot we did at a local Pumpkin Farm just outside of our hometown.

Now, for some fun… Tell me what your favorite season is for a chance to win a print copy of my latest book Two For Tamara, Ravens of War book 2, which just released on October 15th. Be sure and pop over to my Facebook page, Elle Boon Facebook, and tell me or email me at elleboon@yahoo.com.

Oh, and check out Two For Tamara!

Now Available
Two For Tamara
They will Stop At Nothing, To Protect The Woman Destiny Created For them.

WHEN YOU SEE A VISION OF YOUR OWN DEATH… Tamara Mejia decides she will not take living for granted, knowing it was going to be sooner rather than later. When two gorgeous men burst onto her own personal horizon, giving her all the more reason to grab onto every bit of joy and happiness they have to offer, she takes it.

THEY’VE SPENT THOUSANDS OF YEARS SEARCHING FOR THEIR ONE… Rafe and Vin were created by Zeus, the God of War. They are elite soldiers called the Ravens of War and have been best friends for thousands of years. Now that their latest task is over, having found the lost Goddess, their own need to find their Fated becomes paramount. When they meet Tamara, all their protective instincts and deepest desires roar to life.

WHEN LIFE THROWS THEM A CURVE… When an old enemy kidnaps Tamara and whisks her off to Hell, it’s up to Vin and Rafe to find their Fated mate. But they soon realize that finding her isn’t going to be quite so easy, not when their enemy chooses to use her as a bargaining chip. Not when the game involves the Gods, and the stakes are raised. Will the power of the Ravens be enough to save the woman they love?

Two worlds collide in this thrilling second installment of Elle Boon’s Ravens of War series…and these larger than life warriors are just getting started.

Content Warning: Crazy demonesses (is that a word…yes ‘cause I made it up), Zeus unlike any you’ve heard of, and piles of sexy demi-gods. Intended for mature audiences.

~Joyfully Reviewed~ All bets are off when the gods get involved in Two for Tamara, the second story in a unique new series. Two for Tamara is a gritty, complex romance with the occasional tense and scary moment. The Ravens of War series is building into something special.

~NightOwl Reviews~ This is the second book in a series by author Elle Boon. She’s developed a world where gods from mythology are real and unusual powers common. Her heroes are tall, strong and answer to Zeus. However, don’t expect just romance because there is a fight between good and evil that carries through the series. Unexpected allies show up in this story changing the way things are done. Better still though is the female lead who is strong, independent and quite capable of giving the two men who want her a run for the money. Bits of humor pop up regularly giving some of the more violent scenes a bit of relief.

~The BookChick Blog ~ I really enjoy how Boon weaves together a dash of mythology with a whole lot of sexy and fighting off a horrible baddy in between. It definitely leaves me eagerly waiting to read about them.

If you enjoy romance, mythology, and intrigue, then you will definitely appreciate and enjoy the Ravens of War series.

Buy Links:
AmazonUS: https://amzn.to/34K5nKj
Ibooks: https://books.apple.com/us/book/two-for-tamara/id1477727155
KOBO: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/two-for-tamara-1
NOOK: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/two-for-tamara-ravens-of-war-2-elle-boon/1119782921?ean=2940163598069

*~*~*

Oh, and if you’ve not read book 1, Selena’s Men, you should totally check it out as it released just over a month ago.

Selena’s Men

Ravens of War Book 1

A Goddess unknown by all even herself…

Stolen from her birth parents as an infant, Selena lived her life as a normal human, loved by her adoptive parents until tragedy took them from her. Life had given her more knocks than most could take, but she was determined to survive, even when faced with death. Until she came face-to-face with two men who offered her so much more. But could she face what loving them could cost her?.

A set of Demi-Gods…

Max and Malcolm King were once warriors called the Ravens of War for Zeus. They’ve searched the Earth for the one woman to complete them. They’ve fought alongside battlefields for thousands of years, protecting humanity from demons and beings bent on destroying all that’s good in this world. Now that they’ve found their Fated, the one female who they’d give their life for. Will it be for nothing when they find out who her father is?

Are they doomed before they ever begin?

They’re determined to keep Selena safe, knowing every way to kill a man or demon, yet neither were prepared for the ultimate foe to resurface. They’d help defeat Cronus, the God who was bent on destroying Zeus and all the other Gods and Goddesses on Olympus all those years ago, however it seems they’d not done a good enough job. Somehow, the God has found a way to wreak revenge, and this time he’s taken something more precious than Olympus. Will the Ravens be able to save Selena this time, or will they lose the most important thing, their Fated?

Buy Links:
AmazonUS: https://amzn.to/2LgKCgm
AmazonAU: bit.ly/2ZsZ9j7SelenaAU
AmazonCA: bit.ly/30NyhqlselenaCA
AmazonUK: bit.ly/2LdHYJsSelenaUK
iBooks: bit.ly/2NkAxShSelenaapple
KOBO: bit.ly/2Hje2tgSelenaKOBO
B&N: bit.ly/2Zke3mySelenaBarnes

GOODREADS: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/47886032-selena-s-men?ac=1&from_search=true

~Joyfully Reviewed~ A sexy engaging new series begins with Selena’s Men. The Ravens of War introduces hot, intelligent characters in an original storyline that totally entertains readers. This series has a great start.

~NightOwl Reviews~ Selena’s Men a new take on Greek Mythology and introduces a group of immortal warriors called the Ravens of War. Ms. Boon had done a wonderful job of world building for the story and introducing the characters. Her story line is well thought out and keeps the readers engaged. It is a hot and sexy read from beginning to end.
friend.

~ The BookChick Blog~ Selena’s Men, Ravens of War was a smartly written sexy ménage romance story that contained a bit of everything — myth and legend, gods and goddesses, good vs. evil, sexy twins, and a band of equally sexy immortal warriors. Elle Boon spins a tale that puts a creative spin on the tale of the Greek gods and the titans. But, the story is less about the gods and the “human” who the story centers on, Selena Ramos.

I’m not a real opera buff, but there are certain operas I listen to over and over. I love Carmen because that’s all we studied in my fourth year high school French class. Tosca is near and dear to my heart because a co-worker who was an opera fanatic walked me through the elements of the libretto and score. Die Fledermaus is light and fun and Willie Stark an awesome three dimensional examination of a flawed conflicted man. Because of my fascination with myths and legends, the four operas in Richard Wagner’s Ring Cycle are particular favorites.

This past summer, I listened to Live at the Met performances of the entire Ring. In one of the between act discussions I learned of a contemporary African-American adaptation of the first opera, Das Rheingold. In that version of the opera, the sought-after gold is James Brown’s first gold record. This inspired me to try my hand at an adaptation of my own. My version would be set during the Reconstruction/Gilded Age.

Imagine my surprise and dismay as I grappled with the issue of incest in the second opera, Die Walkure/Die Valkyrie. Incest? Really? Yikes. But how on earth could I have been surprised after all the times I’ve listened to or seen this work performed? Had the beauty of the music and the splendid interpretations of the artists somehow pushed the issue to the background? Or had my attention instead been focused not on the taboo, but on an injustice highlighted in the story?

I read an article that explained Wagner intended to set true love in the taboo of incest against the immortality of society’s support of loveless arranged and abusive marriages. How could I not side with Sieglinde’s search for true love? How could I condemn her for finding it with her brother Siegmund when her husband Hundig is such a pig? Wagner’s critics and audience agreed. Die Walkure/Die Valkyrie met with tremendous approval when it premiered in 1870 with only one contemporary critic insulted by the absence of morality in the storyline.

The Merriam Webster dictionary defines a taboo as “a prohibition imposed by social custom or as a protective measure,” “something that is not acceptable to say, mention, or do,” and “a prohibition against touching, saying, or doing something for fear of immediate harm from a supernatural force.”

As noble as Wagner’s intent is/was, I couldn’t bring myself to emulate it in my story. I’m not saying Wagner felt incest shouldn’t be taboo. Come on. Who of you out there isn’t creeped out any time you hear Donald Trump’s quote about Ivanka, “If she wasn’t my daughter, I’d date her” or that picture of teenaged Ivanka sitting on daddy’s lap? Shudder. Double ick.

I admire Wagner using his art to force his audience to think about why they railed against incest but didn’t have an equal amount of outrage about marriage as a tool of oppression. No guts, no glory, right?

Using a taboo to throw a spotlight on the hypocrisy of a societal practice is an integral part of Die Valkyrie‘s story. If I want to craft an adaptation worth telling, worth reading, I had to find a way to use a taboo to focus on an issue of injustice. I found my answer in my setting. The taboo in my story wouldn’t be incest but miscegenation.

Anti-miscegenation laws were only one of the vehicles used to control non-Whites everywhere in the United States — and especially the newly freed Blacks — during the Reconstruction/Gilded Era years. It wasn’t until 1948 that a ban on interracial marriage was struck down for the first by the California Supreme Court (Perez v. Sharp) and not until 1967 were bans on interracial marriage declared unconstitutional by the U.S. Supreme Court (Loving v. Virginia). Miscegenation would be the perfect taboo to use in my story about the struggle of African-Americans to survive and thrive in the latter half of the nineteenth century.

I don’t know if my story will have the power and beauty of Wagner’s or any of the works other artists have crafted to enlighten as well as entertain, but at the very least I hope my story will celebrate the triumphs of former slaves and African-Americans born free who claimed their share of the American dream.

One Breath Away

Sentenced to hang for a crime she didn’t commit, former slave Mary Hamilton was exonerated at literally the last gasp. She returns to Safe Haven, broken and resigned to live alone. She’s never been courted, cuddled or spooned, and now no man could want her, not when sexual satisfaction comes only with the thought of asphyxiation. But then the handsome stranger who saved her shows up, stealing her breath from across the room and promising so much more.

Wealthy, freeborn-Black, Eban Thurman followed Mary to Safe Haven, believing the mysteriously exotic woman is his mate foretold by the stars. He must marry her to reclaim his family farm. But first he must help her heal, and to do that means revealing his own predilection for edgier sex.

Hope ignites along with lust until the past threatens to keep them one breath away from love…

Excerpt

Pastor Morton’s wagon pulled away from Harvest Home’s front porch only after Mary bolted her cabin door.

She lit the kerosene lamp then waved goodbye to him and his passengers through the window. The lamp remained on the sill, not in welcome but in warning.

Its glow flickered over the revolver she kept nearby. She’d been taken by surprise in Weston. She’d never be taken without a fight again.

She gave the gun barrel a pat then skipped toward the kitchen, a spring in her step. A hope in her heart. The refrain of Good Night Ladies played happily in her mind.

Good night ladies. Good night ladies. Good night ladies, we have to leave you now.

Home at last, she’d see if meeting Eban meant this night would be good.

Since her ordeal, her sex rivaled the Chihuahuan Desert in dryness. Yet Eban’s gaze had summoned the fragrant flow that even now moistened her core. Could it be her body had finally healed? She swayed, dizzy with expectation.

Buy Links:
Wild Rose Press – https://bit.ly/2HOu3qc
Amazon – https://amzn.to/2VT5u0F

UPDATE: The winner is…Nancy Gilliland!
*~*~*

I’m releasing a story I wrote a while ago that was part of a series, but I’ve revised it to stand on its own. It’s one I loved writing, because I let my imagination run wild inside the stories I read when I was a child and completely in love with mythology. This is mostly based on Greek mythology and, of course, the reader gets to meet the dark and dangerous God of the Underworld, Hades. Well, you get to see quite a bit of him, actually. 🙂

Be sure to enter to win the contest, and read the very naughty excerpt I’ve included below…

Contest

Comment for a chance to win a $5 Amazon gift card! 

Is there a particular country’s/region’s mythology you love best?

Gargoyle’s Embrace

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

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

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

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

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

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

Pre-order your copy here!

It will be free to KU subscribers for a limited time!

Read an excerpt…

At the end of the path, she exited the dense, tall foliage into a clearing. A gazebo, its lattices intact but in need of paint, stood against the darkening forest. To her left a stone bench sat next to a large statue. The fading sunlight limned the statue and lent its surface a pearlescent sheen. The figure of a winged gargoyle, its massive body upright, its arms and wings outstretched as though ready to take flight was so exact, so detailed, she couldn’t help but stare. “Oh, my.”

She crept closer. Oddly, the large statue wasn’t supported by a sturdy base. Instead, the feet of the mythical creature were mired in dirt and grass. Vines crept up the thickly hewn calves and thighs, curling around and around. Leaves like ivy and blooms of honeysuckle entangled to clothe his naked body, even twining around the masculine appendage rising between his thighs.

She wondered how such a large statue remained supported by only the two feet planted in the dirt and thought the artist must have been truly gifted to achieve the balance. Entranced, she could only stare in awe at the massive object.

Shadows accentuated the outline of the long muscles cloaking his legs; light sparkled on the bulging, straining curves; veins tracked along arms and thick, leathery-looking wings.

While she stared, she realized there was nothing stopping her from touching it with the bare pads of her fingertips. She’d touched intimately only one masculine body in her life and had learned to her dismay the dangers. But this figure carved in stone couldn’t respond to her curse, and she could indulge her curiosity about his masculine form.

Timidly, she touched his knee, opening her palm over the cap. Surprised, she pulled back her hand. The stone wasn’t cool to the touch. Perhaps it had soaked up the warmth from the sunlight. The surface was so smooth it had felt real, almost pulsating.

The allure of the forbidden was too great to resist, and she pressed her hand against his thigh, trailing it upwards, admiring the sleek, hard muscle. But vines impeded her exploration.

She reached up and took the uppermost strands and peeled them away, one by one, exposing his body to the fading light, unwinding them as she moved around him. “Almost like undressing a man,” she mused whimsically.

When the vines lay in long tendrils on the ground, she stepped between his bent thighs and stared into his face. Here wasn’t the bug-eyed gargoyle she’d expected, but rather he wore a warrior’s fierce grimace, frightening in its intensity.

She smoothed her fingertips over his heavy brow, caressed the sharp blades of his cheekbones and blunt nose, and traced the curve of his thinned upper lip and the surprising fullness of the lower.

“How would such a man’s lips feel beneath mine?” she whispered.

She glanced over her shoulder at the house that seemed farther away than it had when she’d first entered the garden but found no curious glance trained her way through the windows.

She shook her head, her mouth curving slightly. “If Mr. Spalding sees anything, I will tell them it must have been someone else.”

Turning back, she gripped the tops of the figure’s broad shoulders, stood on her toes, and grazed his mouth with hers. The texture of the warm stone was soft, deceptively malleable, but perhaps it was only the give of her own lips as she brushed over his again.

She dropped down, her glance following the flow of her hands as she cupped and molded the densely muscled chest, swept over the hard whorls of hair, marveling over the detail. The abdomen, a study of tautly ribbed slabs, caused her breaths to deepen and her imagination to imbue them with life that rippled gently beneath her caress.

Downward she trailed her hand, halting just above the whorls framing the phallus, and again, she noted the veins tracing along the long shaft, the finely carved cap, so smoothly sanded there wasn’t a single rough edge or bump to mar the surface. Her hand smoothed up, then down, then dropped away. She’d gone too far.

The engorged state of the statue tempted her beyond common sense. Beyond her own natural modesty. Moisture dampened her sex. Her heart fluttered. Her breaths betrayed a ragged texture.

Waning sunlight glimmered through the trees, flashing bright orange, then faded. Darkness settled around the garden, and still there were no lights beaming from the house.

No one could see her in this dark, lonely garden. No one would be disgusted or repulsed by the impulse that burned inside her.

She’d lived alone so long, repressed desires that were natural for a woman, due to the curse that kept her separate from others.

Her touch couldn’t arouse this beast-man, couldn’t incite him to rape. For once, she could pretend she was any other girl, learning the wonder of completion with something other than her own fingers. She could pretend she held a lover inside her embrace, one who wouldn’t be so consumed with lust that her pleasure was forgotten. She could take what she desired to serve her own needs.

Petra stepped backwards and dropped her gaze from his stony, unseeing glance, nevertheless embarrassed by what she contemplated. Just once, she’d heed the urge. Just once, she’d dare something indescribably erotic. Tomorrow, she’d be surrounded by the workers the executor had hired to complete refurbishing the house, and again, she’d hide her true nature within gloves.

She opened her blouse, her fingers gliding down the row of buttons. Her bra opened with a deft twist, and she dropped both items onto the ground beside her. She stepped from her slide-on mules, unbuttoned her jeans and pushed them down her hips.

When she was naked, she succumbed to the urge to cover her breasts as she approached the statue. At the last moment, she reached behind her head and removed the clasp, letting her hair fall like warm silk between her shoulder blades.

The bend of his upper thighs made a convenient perch, and she stepped onto one thigh then slid her left leg around his waist. Holding his shoulders again, she squatted over his cock, finding the nudge of the warmed marble, and circled her pussy over the blunt tip.

The feeling was indescribable. And almost enough to send her over the edge. She did it again, moaning when liquid seeped from inside her to anoint the rigid tip. Growing more breathless, she knew she must slow down, must breathe, must savor this moment because she didn’t know if she’d ever find the courage to try this again.

Wrapping her hands around his thick neck, she leaned toward him, kissing his open lips, sucking on the lower, pretending he was alive and responsive to her overtures. And she sank, slowly, her slick folds consuming his cock, inch by inch, her moisture and warmth heating up the thick phallic stone she rode as she began to move on him.

Her heartbeats quickened, growing louder. “Can you hear them?” she whispered. “Can you hear my heartbeats? How they tremble for you, my gargoyle?”

Petra rose and fell, her body melting inside and out, growing slick with desire and sweat. Her breasts rubbed against his stone chest, chafing softly, her nipples blooming. Her belly undulated, rocking slightly forward and back as she thrust downward, her inner walls stretching to surround him.

He filled her, the notches of his hips and the strength of his shaft supported her as her limbs weakened the closer to release she climbed.

Her eyelids fluttered downward, and her mouth gaped open as fine ripples began to climb along her inner walls, vibrating around his solid cock. And then her mind flew, imagining a pulsing tension emanating from the cock lodged so deeply inside her, imagining that the stone gave slightly as she sank then rocked, shallowly stroking inside her.

It wasn’t until something soft caressed her shoulders and back that she opened her eyes.

The expression of her stone gargoyle was no longer gray and frozen, but dark and taut; his dark eyes stared back at her. The wings were no longer spread, but folded forward, surrounding her in heat and trapping her against his body as he brought her to the ground.

But it was too late to scream because her orgasm erupted, bowing her back, shoving her pelvis hard against her demon lover’s as the rhythmic pulsing swept over her body, causing her to tremble and moan.

With the corners of his lips curving upward, Petra’s heart thudded against her chest. Indeed, her curse was so vile she’d incited lust and awoken a stone god.

My daughter is in Italy attending a real estate seminar. She is also a coach, just like I was for several years. She works for the same mentor I loved, and who trained me to be a great saleswoman. Without his backing, I knew I was going to be trampled to death with the highly competitive field of knife-throwers-in-the-back. I felt I was too nice to sell.

I learned so much, and laughed so much, hearing all the mistakes people make in that business. I laugh about all the mistakes I’ve also made in writing. Some of the naïve views I had about writers and the writing process.

So Christen dropped the bomb that my mentor told a story about me in the seminar today. I’m just a bit obsessive about these sorts of things. I’m dying to know what the story is. Was it the bathing suit story? Or the time I sold a condo to a couple who looked like they were both women, and the title company informed them California (at that time) didn’t allow them to take title as husband and wife. And when one of them stood up, grabbed the back of her pants and said, “But I am a man,” we thought we were going to see the full Monty, but she got out her driver’s license, proving she was in fact, a man.

One of my old pals reminded me that I used to sleep under the stage at these big events, before I was one of the ones on stage. That way, I got a front row seat! Or the fact that I taught a whole bunch of agents I was training how to ride the service elevators so we didn’t have to wait to be part of the crowd waiting for one and running out of time to pee.

I also remember my son, who became a Navy SEAL, was 5 and spoke to my mentor at that time. “You know my mom, Sharon Hamilton?” And of course he did. “I think she’s a great Realtor,” Mike answered. My son replied, “Yes she is. She’s the best Realtor in the whole world. Did you know that?” He walked out of the ice cream store without looking back, satisfied he’d laid the proper facts on him.

Our past makes up so much of our stories. All the people we met, the families we raised, the seminars we went to, and churches we attended. Strange family gatherings. It’s all soup and it goes into the writer’s toolkit, right?

Have you bought your copy of Jake yet?

How about my first paranormal SEAL: The Trident Legacy?

See you next time. I’ll bet you have some fun stories as well.

Sharon Hamilton