UPDATE: The winner is Keri Richards!
*~*~*

A Quick Note about CONTESTS!

These contests are still open!

1. Procrastination is my middle name… (Contest)
2. Cynthia D’Alba: Two SEALs in Paradise (Contest)
3. Today’s! (Details below!)

A Reminder to Authors!

Call for Short Story Submissions!
(Click on picture to learn more!)
Deadline November 15th!

A Sexy Excerpt!

The walk to her bedroom was as slow as she could manage. She didn’t want him knowing how badly she wanted this. He’d think her completely desperate.

But when she crossed the threshold, he was already stripping. Just as eager, just as breathless as she was.

The sight of his bared chest left her gasping. Wide-set shoulders with thick mounds of muscle on top and at the corners of his shoulders.

Breasts bulging, rippling as he flexed involuntarily with the clenching of his fists. “You sure about this?”

Maybe he asked because she’d halted, and her mouth was hanging open. She toed off her shoes, stripped her tight tee over her head and unclasped her sports bra before she looked at him again. A good thing, because he was naked, and the lower half of him was equally ripped, equally breath-stealing. His huge, ridged cock made her mouth water.

It turned upward, as thick and imposing as the rest of him. She couldn’t wait to feel the pinch of his girth stretching her from the inside as he crammed inside her. But first, he rolled a condom down his length.

She shoved down her shorts and briefs and headed straight for the bed, pulling back the coverlet and exposing the clean sheets she’d swapped for the drenched set she’d woken in earlier.

Here was a more appropriate, licentious fuck. She didn’t have to feel guilty about wanting it. Didn’t have to worry about losing everything she valued, including herself respect. She climbed onto the bed, knowing he was staring at her ass and rolled to her back, before slowly spreading her legs in invitation.

A low groan, sounding more like an animalistic growl, rumbled from him, and she smiled and reached down to trace the edges of her folds.

He stomped forward, staring down at her sex, then gripped her ankles hard and pulled her toward the edge of the bed. When her legs draped over it, dangling toward the floor, he knelt between her thighs, spread her with his fingers, and bent to run his tongue along her damp slit.

Gillian closed her eyes on a sigh and lifted her legs over his broad shoulders, snuggling her bottom closer the end of the bed as he continued to lick and suck, his teeth capturing an inner fold and nibbling on it for a moment before his tongue stroked into her entrance and swirled.

She moaned, and her chest rose faster with her labored breaths. Like she’d run miles. When fingers joined the teasing strokes, she heard the wet sounds as her inner lips clasped moistly around his thick fingers, and then she smiled because he burrowed deeper at her body’s lewd invitation, pumping inside her, stretching her with a third, and then a fourth finger.

When his lips latched onto her clit, she couldn’t suppress the cry he surprised from her. Thick digits continued to sink inside her, stretching her, making her pussy pulse as she began to undulate her hips, climbing toward the apex.

But then he pulled out of her and backed away, abandoning her when she’d been ready to let go. He gripped her hips hard and shoved her up the bed. His knees landed on the mattress between her spread legs, and she lifted them high, but he nudged her bottom roughly to scoot her higher. When he was satisfied, he grabbed her legs and urged them around his hips, then prodded her sex with the blunt, round head of his cock. His gaze locked with hers, his hands flattened on the mattress beside her shoulders. When he had her undivided attention, he took a deep breath and stroked deep.

She was wet, ready, but not prepared for his size. She cried out, and then bit her lip, not wanting him to stop or even slow the forceful motions that thrust his cock deeper and deeper into her body, until his balls slapped her tender perineum.

There was nothing smooth, nothing easy about the way he made love. He powered into her, grunting at the end of each thrust, forcing an equally unfeminine grunt from her lips that pleased her primitive, primal core.

She’d feel bruised, sore, used when he was done, but satisfied like she’d never been before.

Her arms wound around his shoulders, and she pressed her cheek against his hot throat, feeling tears leak from between her tightly squeezed eyelids. She didn’t know why she cried, but he forced powerful emotions from her just as he forcefully, brutally took her body.

Her bed thudded heavy against the wall, the sound pulling her away, giving her something else to think about rather than how shattered she felt, and she laid back her head, opening her eyes to meet his fierce gaze.

“Did I hurt you?” he growled.

“Yes. Please don’t stop.”

A gust of laughter shook his chest, and he hiked her legs higher around his waist and slammed harder, his strokes shortening, quickening.

She couldn’t catch her breath. And she was quickly flying apart. She raked her fingers down either side of his spine, digging deep.

He grunted again, gathered his knees closer to her, laying his chest on top of hers and resting his forehead on the mattress beside her face.

Gillian skimmed her lips along the edge of his ear, licked a trickle of sweat sliding alongside his cheek and nuzzled closer, waiting, waiting….until the tension he built with his hard, sharp strokes finally coaxed her orgasm into full bloom. She gasped into his ear, clung hard to him, and gave a keening howl as it ripped through her.

His release came quickly on the heels of her own. His choked breaths and gasps added texture to the slowing staccato of his last strokes. Then he was falling over her, wrung out, his cock jerking inside her as his breaths rattled through his chest.

*~*~*

Be looking for this one, coming soon! It’s the sequel to Sin’s Gift, and a very sexy paranormal!

Contest: Do you watch paranormal television shows? What’s your current fave? Answer for a chance to win a free copy of one of my recent releases!

NOTE: I know the first book is up at $0.99 already, but Reina is working with KDP to get the deal going for the other too! So check back!

Okay, so I want you to know he is still alive and breathing, but only because jail is real.

I’m used to the rolled eyes when I talk about romance, but hey… to each their own… and I love myself some romance. And there are people who are uninformed and then there are people who are willfully ignorant. I chose to believe he was part of the first group and asked him.

“Have you read stories about Greek Mythology?”

“Of course!” He seemed affronted that I’d even ask him such a silly thing. “Greek Mythology is classic storytelling!”

He knew I had him when I smiled. Not my normal smile, but that teeth-baring alligator grin that usually makes my son cringe and walk away, because he knows I’m about to take a bite out of someone.

“Oh good… well let’s talk about Greek Mythology. The obvious start is King Lycaon. Some forms of his myth tells the story of how Zeus turned him into a wolf as punishment for trying to trick him into eating human flesh.”

“Sure,” he shrugged, “but that’s just one—”

“Well, what about Arachne. Athena changed her into a spider.”

“Okay, but—”

“Apollo mourned the death of the youth Hyacinth, changing him into the flower we know today.”

He gave me a sullen look. “And?”

“There are a ton of examples, but let’s just remember how many times Zeus had to change his form or the form of others just to get some love… physical love. So…”

Yes, I verbally beat him into submission with examples of what he considered “real fiction” — but what am I getting at here…

Mythology… origin stories… are a human way of trying to understand ourselves and where we come from. We see ourselves in nature, sometimes ascribing attributes of nature’s other creatures to understand what we feel inside. We’re skittish as a colt. We’re hungry as a bear.

We even roar like lions.

We find animalistic characteristics as both desirable and undesirable in ourselves… of course we’re going to seek them in our heroes… our lovers…

I guess that’s why I love writing shapeshifters so much. Heroes and Heroines who can not just dabble in those behaviors, but come by them naturally.

A shapeshifter trio of brothers, bears from the Orsino family who search for their perfect mate and find them in equally amazing women…

A tiger shifter who finds himself with the Catch 22 of all time—keep the secret of his kind… or save the woman who is his perfect match?

Where wild nature and the cultivation of love collide and co-exist…

It gives me the warm fuzzies… You too?

*NANOWRIMO – November is National Novel Writing Month – the group of writers I’ve belonged for more than ten years started as folks who participated in this event

Her UnBearable Protector

The head of Orsino Security was hired to protect her for a week. Instead, his bear wants to claim her forever.

It takes one look for bear shifter Salvatore Orsino to know that Natale Durante isn’t just his client… she’s his mate. His first instinct is to lay Natale’s curvaceous body over his shoulder, find a den, and claim her with his bite. But, this beautiful head-strong woman only grudgingly endures his protection even as she welcomes him in her bed. He’ll have to set aside his bear’s need to mark her until he’s eliminated the threat to her life. Once she’s safe, he’ll turn all his energies convincing her that he isn’t after a short-term dalliance, he wants her, with him… forever.

Natale Durante knows that Durante Fashion House is on its last legs. Her new line, designed for women of every size and shape, is her last attempt at saving her family’s legacy. But there are those in high fashion who prefer that things stay the same—curves belong on the road, not the runway. When complaints and hate mail escalate to threats of bodily harm, her father hires a bodyguard—Salvatore Orsino. He’s over six feet of deliciously seductive muscular male and a distraction she can’t afford. One look from him and she wants her infuriatingly persistent protector to rip off her clothes with his teeth, or she might do the same to him.

Can Salvatore eliminate the threats to Natale or will he lose her before he has a chance to claim her?

Get your copy here!

The Tiger’s Innocent Bride

When he saw his mate for the first time, her life was in danger. Keeping his Tiger a secret was no longer an option.

Every day was a struggle for Tiger Shifter, Devlin Kerr. Booted from one Police Department due to his ‘questionable attitude,’ he’d landed in Sylvan City determined to give the career another go. What was an Alpha to do?

Three weeks of even more bull and inside politics was already souring him on law enforcement all together when his Captain suckers him into working extra security at a society event.

A society event that ends in gunfire and blood.

And smack dab in the middle of the crosshairs? His mate.

Secrets be damned, Devlin did what it took to save her and suddenly danger is coming at them from everywhere.
Death, he could handle. Mayhem? Sure, just another walk in the park.

People going after his mate? That wasn’t going to fly. He was going to do whatever it took to keep her safe from danger…
…but who was going to keep Paige Lundin safe from him? Less than a day after they’d met, she was The Tiger’s Innocent Bride.

*This is Book 1 of the Sylvan City Alphas Series. As the series goes on you’ll meet Alphas of a number of different species who will find their mates amongst the citizens of this city, complete with lush woods and fields as well as a concrete jungle. These hard-edged heroes and their lusciously-curvy mates are turning this island into a shifter paradise filled with Happy Ever Afters*

Get your copy here!

I make my living as a freelance writer and editor. Therefore, I find that my standards for professional quality content differ from that of many self-published authors, because I cannot separate the quality necessary for my clients from the quality necessary for my own stories.

Being an avid reader as well as a writer and editor, I encounter far too many self-published books that make me cringe. From misused apostrophes to malapropisms to incorrect grammar to tense switches between past and present so frequent as to give H. G. Wells whiplash, these writers lack understanding of what I call the mechanics of language.

However, correct grammar in itself does not translate into good writing. Writers who commit the sins attendant upon poor language mechanics also and often fail to grasp the intricacies of good storytelling: minimize passive voice, avoid information dumps, use adverbs sparingly, reduce expository description to only that which is necessary, and eschew obfuscation. (If you didn’t get the two instances of irony in that last sentence, then you probably shouldn’t consider yourself a professional writer.)

The hallmark of a professional writer lies in the skill with which he or she executes an idea.

If one subscribes to the literary authorities regarding story plots, then one must also admit that every overarching plot has already been written. In his 2004 book, The Seven Basic Plots: Why We Tell Stories, Christopher Booker declares that literature has only seven basic plots that storytellers everywhere and in every medium continuously recycle: 1) overcoming the monster, 2) rags to riches, 3) the quest, 4) voyage and return, 5) rebirth, 6) comedy, and 7) tragedy. (Yes, the plots can and do overlap within a story.) Other authorities cite the number of distinct, archetypal plots to six, nine, and thirty-six. The Guardian reported on an academic study, conducted in 2016, that analyzed commonalities among the plots of 1,737 stories. According to the article, the two most popular plot archetypes basically fall into two general story arcs reminiscent of Oedipus and Cinderella.

For those who write romantic fiction, the Cinderella archetype reigns. Look at practically any story within the umbrella genre of romance or its myriad sub-genres and you’ll find that requisite happily ever after or HEA ending. Sometimes, the HEA is temporary, labeled in the industry as happy for now or HFN. Regardless of whatever tragedy befalls the protagonists throughout the story’s journey, the story ends on a note of hope and happiness.

Those who write romance then ought to understand that their overarching plots are not original. What is original is how the author treats that selected plot. The permutations upon a well-used plot often fall within the parameters of certain sub-genres, of which the most obvious copy of the Cinderella story is the billionaire romance. The tired old plot becomes fresh with the addition of unusual circumstances that affect the characters, with the writer’s skill in creating witty repartee, and the writer’s ability to convey emotion and ambiance such that that reader shares the main characters’ experiences.

Great storytelling requires more than a good idea, because all the good ideas have already been used. Great storytelling demands expert execution and manipulation of language to refresh the old idea and give it new vigor.

Bear of the Midnight Sun

After a thousand years, immortal polar bear shifter Sindre finally finds his mate—on a talk show. In the city where anything goes, an impromptu wedding is just a taste of what’s to come. Startled into going through the ceremony, Miranda can’t stop the big, virile man from staking his claim on her and releasing her bear. Sindre can’t believe his good luck and will do anything to keep his mate at his side, up to and including taking marital advice from Atlas Leonidus. An independent woman with a successful career, Miranda melts at his touch and shuns his control, except she can’t control her bear.

Pre-order your copy here!

About the Author

Holly Bargo has over 25 years of professional writing and editing experience. She has published 20 books spanning the fantasy and romance genres and writes from the perspective of having made all the mistakes and helping other writers learn from those mistakes. Her latest book, Bear of the Midnight Sun, will be released on October 31, 2018, in both e-book and print format. Holly lives on a small hobby farm in southwest Ohio.

UPDATE: The winners are…Katherine Smits and Mary Preston!
*~*~*

First, thank you so much, Delilah, for hosting me on your blog. Much appreciated.

Since it’s Halloween month, I want to talk to you about ghosts and the five haunted cities you should put on your Bucket List (“Things To Do Before I Leave This Earth”).

Not long ago, I was browsing through my back list of books and came to a surprising realization—many of my books have ghosts between the pages. The translucent spirit is usually a secondary character (at least, so far – lol). I had to ask myself two questions: 1) Why do I gravitate toward writing about dead people… er, I mean those who have crossed over and, 2) Does it have anything to do with seeing them as a child? Yes, you read that right—I started seeing ghosts about the time I turned three years old.

My wonderful Mom, now 91 years young, will vouch for me. She remembers those days with excellent recall. Every night, I insisted there were little people sitting on the coving near the ceiling of our very old home. I remember being frustrated that she couldn’t see them like I could.

I still don’t know if that’s why I write about them but it’s an interesting theory, isn’t it?

Anyway, back to the haunted cities. If there’s any way you can get to these ghost-sighting places, you should really check them out. You won’t be disappointed.

1) Savannah, Georgia

It’s believed that Savannah was built on American Indian burial grounds, which goes hand-in-hand with hauntings. It was also the site of Revolutionary and Civil War battles and yellow fever outbreaks. Best-selling novel Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil boosted the city’s spookier side, putting such locales such as Bonaventure Cemetery on the national radar.

Or go the DIY route and take your pick of haunted restaurants, like The Pirate’s House or The Olde Pink House. If you’re brave enough, spend the night at a haunted hotel: Room 204 at the 1790 Inn & Restaurant is reportedly visited by a ghost named Anne. She can be heard crying after turning off the lights. The Marshall House was once used as a hospital during the Civil War and yellow fever outbreaks, and tales abound, from ghost children who bite to soldiers carrying severed limbs. Other majorly haunted sites include Moon River Brewing Company, which was the city’s first hotel in 1821, and featured in an episode of Ghost Adventures.

2) Washington, D.C.

The White House, The National Theatre and Hay-Adams Hotel are among the city’s haunted hot spots. Get the lowdown on its seedy past with Washington DC Ghost Tours, Scary DC or Washington Walks. However, The U.S. Capitol Building, which was built in the mid-1800s, is filled with specters, from construction workers to politicians (John Quincy Adams actually died there). In fact, there’s even a “demon cat” that appears right before national tragedies.

Historical hauntings also happen at The Octagon House. Dolley Madison, wife of president James Madison, lived there for a spell, and loved throwing parties; she’s sometimes seen in her party frock. Less happy occurrences in the mansion’s past include rumored murders and unexplained deaths. If you take a self-guided tour of the now museum, don’t be alarmed to feel cold spots on the staircase or hear knocking inside the walls.

3) Chicago

The Great Chicago Fire of 1871 lasted two days and killed at least 300 people. However, even worse was the 1903 fire at the much-touted fireproof Iroquois Theater, which killed more than 600 people at an afternoon performance. In fact, the alley behind it has been nicknamed “Death Alley,” after those who jumped to their death to escape the fire. It’s also where recovered bodies were temporarily placed. The Oriental Theater now resides on the spot, and people have seen ghosts in period dress, heard screams and smelled smoke.

Try your luck by booking a room at the Congress Plaza Hotel, said to be overflowing with ghosts. Room 441 is believed to be among the most haunted, with a woman that shakes the bed, shadowy figures and projectile objects. Even scarier, there’s a sealed shut room with no doorknob on the 12th floor. You probably wouldn’t want to spend the night there anyway. Weird Chicago Tours and Chicago Hauntings cover more haunted spots around the city.

4) San Francisco, CA

The lawless gold rush period and the 1906 earthquake, which triggered a fire that killed at least 3,000 people, likely contributed to San Francisco’s haunted present. However, Alcatraz Island is also notoriously haunted. Tales of death, murder and insanity surround the prison that once held mobster Al Capone. You can visit at night for the chance to experience cold spots, whispering in empty cells and sounds of slamming doors. Learn about other haunted sites, from the USS Hornet to Chinatown, with San Francisco Ghost Hunt Walking Tour, Haunted Haight Walking Tour or SF Chinatown Ghost Tours.

Although about an hour from the city, it’s worth detouring to visit the Winchester Mystery House, whose history is just as fascinating as its hauntings. Long story short, a medium advised Mrs. Winchester to never stop building a house in order to prevent ghosts from haunting her. Mrs. Winchester took this to heart, and after 38 years of endless construction, the result was 160 rooms with baffling architecture, from doors that open into walls to staircases that don’t lead anywhere. Ironically, despite her efforts, Winchester is most certainly haunted; take a candlelight tour in October and watch out for lights turning on or Mrs. Winchester herself calling your name.

5) Portland, Oregon

At one point, Portland was considered one of the most dangerous port cities in the world thanks to prostitution, gangs, opium dens and gambling rings. One of the most persistent stories from this era is about the Shanghai Tunnels, which are underground tunnels that connected hotel and bar basements to the docks. Originally intended to transport goods from the waterfront, they’re rumored to be where hired hands in the 19th century would kidnap, or “shanghai” men to work as slaves on ships bound for Asia. Victims would be dropped into the tunnel via trapdoors found in bars and imprisoned in cells until their ship set sail. Some ghost tours such as Beyond Bizarre Ghost Tour, Haunted Pub Tour, Hawthorne Ghost Tour and Shanghai Tunnels/Portland Underground Tours start at Hobo’s Restaurant, where there’s a basement entrance to the tunnels. Besides hearing screaming and crying, people report seeing Nina, a prostitute who met an untimely end at the bottom of an elevator shaft of what’s now Old Town Pizza.

Happy Ghost Hunting!

* * *

I’d like to share an excerpt from my most recent book Comes A Specter, Book 2, Ghostland Series. Several reviewers said the ghost scared the bejeebers out of them (although they loved the book).

Excerpt:

A haze of gray mist swirled around the spirit’s form, his human form. If the situation weren’t so serious, Sutter could have shouted with joy. He took in the ghost’s visage. A quiver hung from his shoulder, stocked with sharp, pointed arrows—a sign he’d transformed into the fierce warrior who once walked the earth. Steeped in blood (no doubt from his recent kills), his clothing hung in tatters around his massive frame—a vest made of animal hides, a breechcloth and fringed leggings. Sutter’s gaze traveled to his painted, pock-marked face. Yellow and white stripes marked his forehead and chin, and black circles blended into his dark eyes. For a brief second, Sutter’s insides quivered and ropes of tension knotted every cord and fiber of his body.

Bleary, unearthly eyes speared Sutter when the wraith raised a hand of claw-like fingers and pointed at his enemy’s chest. The wind, much like the sound of a thousand women wailing, keened into the deafening silence. Fire exploded from the ghost’s eyes—flames the fires of Hell couldn’t compete with.

Sutter shouted over the infernal noise and flames. “You are not welcome here! Hear my words, you are dead!”

Like a misty cloud of energy, Ten Wounds lurched forward, a staccato rhythm of hisses and howls spewing from his foam-drooling mouth. Sutter had never imagined such a demonic apparition.

Read More On Amazon

* * *

Contest! Contest!

To qualify to win a luxurious, specialty bar of soap (from Keta’s favorite vendors) sign up for my Newsletter HERE and leave your email address in the comment section below. Two winners will be selected and the soaps mailed out several days after this post.

I’m a Texan. And proud of it. You know the old saying “Everything’s bigger in Texas”? Folks here don’t just say what it is, we illustrate it. We don’t get thirsty, we get “so dry we’re spitting cotton”. We’re not busy, we’re “busy as a one-armed paper hanger. Weather is “hotter than a summer revival” or colder than a well-digger’s knee (or other parts of the anatomy). If we feel like someone is dishonest, we “wouldn’t trust him any farther than we could throw him,” because none of us “fell off the turnip truck yesterday.”

If my grandmother shivered involuntarily, she “bucked a rigor”. Instead of swearing out loud and getting switched with a peach tree limb, my uncle muttered “GARDEN SEED” whenever he got angry. At the end of a lecture, my mother always told me to “put that in your pipe and smoke it.” If someone came to visit, my grandfather sometimes said, “Well, look what the cat dragged in.”

I never questioned this colorful slang until I started writing. Some people love it. Some people don’t like it at all. They consider it cliché. Or they don’t know what it means.

My next book will be about girl who lives in present day deep east Texas, and I hope to use some of the colorful sayings I love the most. Either people won’t “cotton to it” or it will work “slick as a whistle”.

Susan A. Royal
Xander’s Tangled Web (fantasy, mystery)
https://tinyurl.com/yconklde
In My Own Shadow (fantasy, adventure, romance)
https://tinyurl.com/bqbxm41
Book trailer
https://youtu.be/Wbg8Z-12ojY
Not Long Ago (time travel, adventure, romance)
https://tinyurl.com/85vgye3
Book trailer
https://youtu.be/vOIQVdWUigU/
https://susanaroyal.wordpress.com
https://susanaroyal.com
All books available at MuseItUp, Amazon, B&N, Goodreads

About the Author

Born in west Texas and raised in south Texas, Susan shared a 100-year-old farmhouse in a small east Texas town with a singing ghost for years. Now she lives in the country.

Mother of three and grandmother of six, she comes from a family rich with characters, both past and present. Susan’s grandmother shared stories of living on a farm in Oklahoma Territory and working as a telephone operator in the early 20th century. She learned all about growing up in the depression from her father and experienced being a teenager during WWII through her mother’s eyes.

Susan loves taking her readers through all kinds of adventures. So far, she’s written two books in her It’s About Time series, Not Long Ago and From Now On, and is working on book three. They are time travel adventures about two people who fall in love despite the fact they come from very different worlds. In My Own Shadow is a Fantasy adventure/romance. Xander’s Tangled Web is a YA fantasy with romance. Look for her books at MuseItUp/Amazon/B&N.

Want to know more? Visit susanaroyal.wordpress.com for a peek inside this writer’s mind and see what she’s up to. You never know what new world she’s going to visit next.

The title confuse you? It’s not an alien invasion, although that idea is sparking an idea in my mind… I just wanted to make sure I had your attention!

Today, I want to let you know about a story I wrote quite a while back, but which has received a facelift and a brand new look. It’s the first of two stories in a super sexy paranormal series entitled Veiled Alliance. I’ll publish the two I have then give you time to read them. If you want more in the series, let me know! There are demons (skinwalkers!), a psychic, and a fallen angel in this one, and you’ll get a glimpse inside a secret police precinct that deals in the woo-woo stuff. I had fun revisiting this one. I hope you love it, too!

Sin’s Gift

Veiled Alliance, Book #1

When police officer Sinead O’Rourke returns to duty months after being shot in an incident that claimed her partner, she knows it’s not going to be easy. Despite being cleared of any negligence, her fellow officers still wonder whether she’s responsible for his death. One more problem is that everyone knows she claims to have seen his ghost. After months of rehabilitation and lying like hell about the fact she’s not seeing spooks anymore, Sin’s determined to get back into the saddle.

Jake Chappa doesn’t want to partner with Sin. Been there, done that—couldn’t keep his hands off her the first time around. She’s too much of a distraction, and her penchant for rushing into trouble scares the heck out of him. Despite wishing she’d quit her job, he’s still deeply attracted. When an armed robbery goes down and something happens that rattles Sin to the core, he’s right there—ready to cover her back and her sweet body.

Get your copy here!

UPDATE: The winner is…Debra Guyette!
*~*~*

This coming Tuesday, the first of two books (so far) in my Veiled Alliance series will release. This is one I wrote a long time ago, and now that I have the rights back… Well, we’ll see how you like it, and whether you want more stories. It’s super-sexy, and a different kind of paranormal.

Read an excerpt below, and see if this is something you might like to see more of!

Leave a comment for a chance to win one of my Night Fall stories!

Sin’s Gift

When police officer Sinead O’Rourke returns to duty months after being shot in an incident that claimed her partner, she knows it’s not going to be easy. Despite being cleared of any negligence, her fellow officers still wonder whether she’s responsible for his death. One more problem is that everyone knows she claims to have seen his ghost. After months of rehabilitation and lying like hell about the fact she’s not seeing spooks anymore, Sin’s determined to get back into the saddle.

Jake Chappa doesn’t want to partner with Sin. Been there, done that—couldn’t keep his hands off her the first time around. She’s too much of a distraction, and her penchant for rushing into trouble scares the heck out of him. Despite wishing she’d quit her job, he’s still deeply attracted. When an armed robbery goes down and something happens that rattles Sin to the core, he’s right there—ready to cover her back and her sweet body.

Pre-order your copy here!

Sexy excerpt…

Jake didn’t let her have any room to slam her door in his face. He skipped up the steps behind her and practically pushed her through the door. The urgency gripping his entire body had him on the verge of exploding.

She didn’t demur. Didn’t utter a single protest. She also didn’t look back at him as she headed to her bedroom. She undid her utility belt, drew her weapon from her holster and locked it in the safe under her bed. Then she stood and began to strip. First her uniform shirt, then the Kevlar vest. Her bra. She toed off her boots and unbuttoned her pants. Only then did she glance up.

Horny as hell, the edgy anger that rippled through him was potent, explosive. He turned on his heel and stalked into her bathroom, bending to twist the faucet handle and start the shower.

No long leisurely bath. A shower, and she wouldn’t be taking it alone. He stripped, dropping his belt and clothing on the counter, and stepped under the water, letting it sluice over the top of his head, hoping it would take the edge off—make him a little less dangerous.

When the curtain swung back and she stepped inside, his stomach sank. Anger flared in her gaze, and her chin rose. This wasn’t going to be an easy reacquaintance on either of their parts. She was ready for a battle.

She reached for the shampoo bottle and turned away, ignoring him while she soaped her dark red hair.

Jake’s hungry gaze swept down her nude back, noting bluish bruises on her side and ass, along with admiring her lean, almost boyish figure. He lingered over her heart-shaped backside, wanting to reach over and cup each firm globe in his hands.

“Quit staring,” she said, not looking back.

“I’m not,” he lied, a smile quirking up one side of his mouth.

“I can feel it, crawling all over my ass.”

“Always loved that ass.”

“Yeah, well it isn’t yours anymore.”

“Then what are you doing here? With me?”

“It’s my goddamn shower.” She stuck her head under the water and long ropes of suds slid down her skin.

Jake began to relax a bit. The hard bite of her voice was all too familiar. God, the sex was gonna be great. He reached over her shoulder, deliberately sliding along her skin, and grabbed the soap from the tile dish.

Her back stiffened, and she slowly turned. Her chest rose twice, lifting her round tits. Then she placed her hands on either side of the stall and spread her legs shoulder-width apart. Just like old times. Her signal she wanted him to wash her down.

Jake ground his teeth, felt the flex of his jaw and the tightening of his shoulders, then went down on one knee in front of her. He rolled the bar of soap between his hands then dropped it on the floor of the tub and reached straight for her breasts.

Sin’s breath hissed between her teeth on a long indrawn breath, but her gaze locked with his. He rubbed his hands around her small, round breasts, careful not to touch her tender nipples, drawing out the moment because he feared she’d cut it short. Afraid she’d remember she had reasons to hate his guts.

She stared into his eyes, and slowly, her body softened, rocking slightly into his hands, urging him without words to touch her cinnamon-colored nipples.

He relented, gripping them between his slippery thumbs and fingers, and tugged rhythmically. She had the most sensitive nipples, had nearly come a couple times when he’d plied them relentlessly.

Her lips opened around another indrawn breath. “Lower.”

Jake smoothed his hands down her sides, careful of the bruises, and along the front of her belly, slipping a fingertip into her belly button before drawing away to soap his hands again.

When he looked back up, her lips trembled, and she spread her legs a little wider.

Breaking with her gaze, he lifted his hands between her legs, staring as he worked the suds into her auburn thatch, then circled deeper, scraping his fingertips along her outer labia.

Her thighs began to quiver, and he didn’t hide his smile. He had her now. Her resentment was melting away, for now, beneath the quivering. The only time Sin didn’t like being in control was when desire rode her hard.

He swirled his fingers along her slit, fingered between them, then thrust one digit up inside her.

“Jake!”

“It’s okay, baby,” he murmured. “Everything’s okay.” He rinsed her with handfuls of water then spread her lips and leaned close, nuzzling her sex with his nose and mouth, rubbing the coarse stubble sprouting on his cheeks and chin to chafe her tender flesh.

Her legs wobbled, and he urged her to drape a leg over one shoulder, and then crouched lower and tilted his head to run his tongue along her seam, slipping between her folds to stroke inside, then curling his tongue upward to flick at her hooded clit.

Sin rocked forward and back, shuddering hard, and he rewarded her submission by thrusting two fingers inside her. He pulled up her folds to expose her reddening bud and latched his lips around it, sucking it hard.

Her fingers clutched his head as she jerked against him, and he could feel how close she was. Her pussy clasped his fingers, and soft moans, one after the other, rose inside the shower, echoing around them.

As much as would have liked to finish her now, his balls ached; his cock was stiff and riding high. He gripped her hips, kissed her pussy and shoved upward to his feet. “Get to the bed,” he said, wincing at the harshness of his voice.

Sin didn’t hesitate, stepping over the rim of the tub and grabbing a towel which she used to blot her skin as she strode to her bed.

He didn’t bother taking the time to dry off, following on her heels, dragging away the towel, then turning her and pushing her down on the mattress.

Sin scooted backward as he climbed over her, allowing her only enough room between their bodies to crawl to the center of the bed. Then he lifted her legs, urging her thighs around his hips. He dipped to capture her lips and rooted at her sex with his cock, until he found her entrance and slid into her slick cunt.

Jake flung back his head, his eyes squeezing shut. “Jesus, fuck!” He wanted to take her slow, wanted to make it last, because he didn’t know whether she’d ever be weak again and need his brand of comfort.

But his body felt ready to explode. He glanced down, catching the glitter of tears in her eyes again. Damn, she never cried. He pulled out slowly then sank back inside, trying to savor the clasp of her pussy around his shaft, the silken texture of her inner walls. But it was too late. He was too far gone. He pulled out and slammed hard inside her, then did it again and again, until he bucked wildly against her, stroking deep and hard.

Not deep enough. He pressed her legs upward, slipped his arms under her knees, and crammed the fronts of her thighs against her chest. He hammered at her cunt, but he wasn’t the only one unraveling.

Liquid spilled from deep inside her, washing him in welcome. He came so fast all he could do was clench his teeth and force his hips to keep rocking against her, until at last he felt the little convulsions that rippled up and down his cock.

When his arms began to shake, he let go of her thighs, allowing her to ease them down his sides.

He didn’t move off her, wasn’t giving her space to think about what just happened, because he didn’t want her to kick his ass to the floor. Instead, he cupped her injured cheek and the top of her head and lay down on her, sliding his mouth over hers to keep her lips busy.

The way she kissed him back, slowly rocking her lips, her tongue lightly skimming his, felt a whole lot like she was memorizing the taste and feel. Like she expected this to be the last time. Again.

And while he knew it would be better for both of them, he thought he just might want to die rather than walk away again. So, he broke the kiss, pushed his softening cock deeper into her, and leaned on his elbows to look into her face. “I don’t wanna talk.”

Her chin jutted. “Never do.”

“I don’t want us to say things we’ll want to take back. Not tonight.”

“You want to pretend?”

“I want to stay with you.”

Her eyes narrowed, spearing him. “What’s the matter? Haven’t gotten any lately?”

“You’re starting…” he warned.

Sin huffed out a breath. “All right. So, maybe I haven’t gotten any lately either.”

He shook his head. Every discussion led to an argument. No matter how large or small. “So, we’re agreed. No talking.”

Her eyelids dipped. “What if one of us needs to give a little direction?”

A smile tugged at his mouth. “Now, O’Rourke, you know there’s only one person who gives the orders in this bed.”