Sunday, December 4, 2016

Book Blitz: Winter Thrillz by T.L. Katt


Winter Thrillz
T.L. Katt
Publication date: December 2nd 2016
Genres: Adult, Paranormal, Romance
Two short paranormal romances: Tigress and Talons. Explore debut author T.L. Katt’s world of paranormal romance.
Tigress
Jestin, in need of a vacation, takes a break to the mountains where strange events send him exploring the woods. What he finds changes his life forever.
Talons
It’s an ordinary day when Meg gets scooped up by a creature. She awakes in her own bed believing it was only a dream, until she finds puncture marks under her arms. In fear that she’s been injected with a virus, she flees to solve the mystery — finding much more.
This book is meant for mature audiences 18 and above.
TALONS EXCERPT:
“Oh, Miss Meg, you don’t look good. Your cheeks are flushed red like a tomato.” Elsa placed the coffee on the nightstand beside the bed and brought her hand to Meg’s forehead. Worry wrinkles creased her chocolate hairline and brow. “You’re burning up, and what are all those splotches on your legs and arms? We need to cool you down!” Elsa ran out of the room, leaving Meg to stare at her body covered in splashes of red inflamed skin. A fever and illness would explain the hallucinations she dreamt the night before.
Within minutes, Elsa returned with a cold cloth that she placed on Meg’s forehead. “This will cool you off while I draw your bath.” Like a small black whirlwind, Elsa had the bath water running and was slipping off Meg’s gown and lowering her into the tub of chilly oatmeal water. Meg knew better than to resist Elsa’s efforts and complied.
Shivering beneath the cold water brought her back to her dream and the frozen air. She could almost feel the large talons beneath her armpits and the acute pain the creature’s claw had caused. She brought her left hand instinctively to beneath her under arm and felt a hole the size of her pinky. She removed her hand and drew her arm up over her head. “Elsa, do you see anything?”
Elsa’s eyes grew twice their average size. “What happened?” she asked, bringing her fat fingers to the hole and rubbing gently across it. “Does it hurt?”
“No, it’s just a big hole. It feels like someone stuck me with a centimeter-sized needle.”
Elsa reached over and grabbed a vanity mirror off the counter and positioned it where Meg could see the hole. She stared at it, her mouth gaping with fear as she realized last night had not been a dream. She had been abducted by something that stuck her and most likely drugged her. She couldn’t go to the hospital with this, not after the disappearance of her husband and the mystery that surrounded the strange death of the man thought to have been guilty of murdering several people. No, she was a doctor and would take and analyze her own tox screen.
“Elsa, help me out of the tub, I have work to do!” Sensing the urgency of her tone, Elsa did as asked, against her own judgement. Meg was her friend but also her employer. Meg threw her bathrobe on and rushed through the house with lightning speed, not stopping as she yelled, “Tell Amy I had to leave town for a few days.” Her voice trailed off, leaving Elsa seated on the lip of the tub in a quandary.
As Meg sped through the house, she could feel the sun’s heat nipping at her skin even though a thin layer of snow covered the ground. She had no time to close the drapes to the many floor to ceiling windows that enclosed her home. She had fallen in love with the large amounts of sunlight that streamed in, giving the house a warm, cozy feel — but not now. Today, she hated the light and the tendrils of heat that ebbed across her exposed skin. With a speed far beyond her ability, she was but a mere flash streaking through the home.
In the basement, she tore through boxes of lab equipment; setting aside test tubes, needles, flasks, a hot plate, and microscope. She had used the equipment to analyze the sample her colleague and college dorm mate — now FBI lab rat — had collected from the sociopath’s blood. The sample had been small but enough to tell her the toxin he was injected with was unknown and deadly to him. When it interacted with his blood, within seconds the agent destroyed every blood cell in his body. It acted as a virus exploding each red blood cell from the inside out like over inflated balloons. Yet when she mixed the toxin with her own blood it mingled, restructuring the hemoglobin protein in a way that allowed it to carry more oxygen throughout the body.
Meg found the large bulging vein in her arm. Without hesitation, she withdrew a vial of blood.

Author Bio:
T.L. Katt lives in the south eastern U.S. with her two fur-children Crescent and Gibbous. She dabbles in graphic design, creating all her own covers, and writes stories that are more truth than fiction. Her favorite genres and writing preferences are paranormal and fantasy.

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Saturday, December 3, 2016

Author Interview with Jeanne St. James


Find the original interview from 10/18/16  here: https://authorsinterviews.wordpress.com/2016/10/18/here-is-my-interview-with-jeanne-st-james/comment-page-1/#comment-12227

Name   Jeanne St. James
Age   48
Where are you from  I live in south central Pennsylvania

A little about your self (your education Family life etc)
I live with two farting French Bulldogs. I have my Bachelor’s in Criminal Justice and I have a background in law enforcement. My first book was published in 2009, but I’ve been writing since I was 13.

Fiona: Tell us your latest news?
After taking a six year hiatus from writing, I’m back out it and in 2016, I’ve had/am having four books published with Loose Id. And I have one more submission in my editor’s hands and another releasing 1/3/17. 

Fiona: When and why did you begin writing?

I began writing when I was thirteen as an escape. I think I still write as an escape even 35 years later! I write characters I’d love to hang out with.

Fiona: When did you first consider yourself a writer?

I think when I finished my first manuscript at fourteen. I probably have it hidden away somewhere.

Fiona: What inspired you to write your first book?
I was a reading fiend and I wanted to write category romances. Well, that never happened I took a manuscript I wrote for Silhouette (way back in the day) and turned it hot and steamy and sold it as an ebook back in 2009.

Fiona: Do you have a specific writing style?
I’m a pantser (write by the seat of your pants). I figure out characters and a basic premise and the characters take me where to go.

Fiona: How did you come up with the title?

My latest release is a m/m erotic romance trilogy entitled Rip Cord. There’s three novellas:
Rip Cord: The Reunion & The Weekend (released as one edition)
and Rip Cord: The Ever After
I just liked the name Rip Cord for the main character who is a pro NFL football player.

Fiona: Is there a message in your novel that you want readers to grasp?

Since it’s LGBTQ, I hope it carries the message that all people regardless of sexual preference should be accepted.

Fiona: How much of the book is realistic and are experiences based on someone you know, or events in your own life?
None. It’s all fiction, though I have a few LGBTQ friends. I’m all Allie.

Fiona: What books have most influenced your life most? a mentor? I think when I read Laura Kinsale and Katherine Sutcliffe back in the day, I was so enthralled by their books, their emotional characters, I was pulled in and wanted to write just like. (I don’t write like that, believe me. I wish I did!)

Fiona: Are there any new authors that have grasped your interest and who  is your favorite author and what is it that really strikes you about their work?
I recently found J.R. Ward’s Black Dagger Brotherhood series, which I’m really enjoying and I stumbled over Emma Chase’s Legal series and I LOVED it. I like her writing style and the humor

Fiona: Name one entity that you feel supported you outside of family members.

He’s not family, so I’d have to say my boyfriend. He was the one who kept encouraging me to get back to writing. I’m grateful for his encouragement.

Fiona: Do you see writing as a career?

It could be. I work full-time, but if I could swing it I’d write full-time. Though I’d probably end up a hermit and never leave the house.

Fiona: If you had to do it all over again, would you change anything in your latest book?

No. I can’t look behind. I have to keep moving forward and write the next book. I feel like every book I write, I become a better writer.

Fiona: Do you recall how your interest in writing originated?

Just from me being an avid reader when I was young and through my teenage years.

Fiona: Can you share a little of your current work with us?
I just submitted Brothers in Blue: Marc to my editor. This is the second book in my Brothers in Blue trilogy. The first book was recently released. Here is a one of my favorite passages. I laughed while writing it:

With the excuse that he was looking for Menace, Marc wandered casually into the living room to find—
His father sat at one end of the couch, while Leah reclined with her feet in his lap.
What the fuck!
His father was actually rubbing her feet. He was tempted to call his mother into the room to stop the shit he was seeing.
Leah’s eyes were closed as she laid her head back on the arm of the couch, a crocheted blanket tossed haphazardly over her, clearly not covering her breasts or her long legs.
Totally unacceptable.
His father was talking in a low voice, tell her about how he remembered doing those quick turnaround shifts and how they sucked. And when he got home, Mary Ann would always massage his feet and draw him a nice hot bath.
He was playing the sympathetic flirt.
Oh today was just full of fucking surprises.
His father looked up at him, a teasing smile on his face. “Did you just growl?”
Marc cleared his throat. “No, I had a tickle.”
Leah’s eyes popped open as his mother bustled into the room, shoving Marc out of her way. Now things were going to get ugly. No one messes with his mother’s man. She’d put an end to it. Any moment now. Just wait.
Mary Ann approached the couch, straightening out the blanket over Leah and tucking it around her. “Well, aren’t you sweet, Ron, rubbing her feet after an exhausting day. You should take some lessons, son. Your father knows how to take care of a woman.”
But Leah wasn’t his Pop’s woman, she was his… rookie.
Marc wanted to pull his hair and run out of the room. But instead, he stood there like a dumbass in stunned silence, watching the bizarre display before him. His parents must have been abducted by aliens. No other explanation for it.
“I crocheted that blanket for Ron twenty years ago. Didn’t I, hon?”
His father’s “yep” and nod of his head didn’t slow his fingers from pushing on the soles of Leah’s feet.
A long, loud fart filled the room and all eyes turned toward Marc. His eyebrows shot to his hairline and heat flooded his cheeks. “That wasn’t me! That was Menace!”
The half-grown puppy lifted his head for a second when he heard his name, then went back to licking his balls.
On her way back to the kitchen, his mother patted Marc on the cheek as she passed him. “Sure it was, honey, sure it was.”
He heard a noise from the direction of the couch and when he glanced over, Leah was almost purple as she smothered her laughter.

Fiona: Is there anything you find particularly challenging in your writing?
I like very Alpha males (type A personalities), so I have to remember to dial my heroes down a little bit, because I don’t want them to come across as abusive.
 
Fiona: Do you have to travel much concerning your book(s)?

No, but that would be a great excuse. I love to travel, I just don’t do it for my books.

Fiona: Who designed the covers?
Depends on what book. Usually the publisher picks the artist. The artist who did the Rip Cord covers was Syneca Featherstone.

Fiona: What was the hardest part of writing your book?
Not getting distracted. Life is very busy and having the Internet is a bad, bad, bad distraction for me.
 
Fiona: Do you have any advice for other writers?

Keep writing, ignore bad reviews, value your readers, and their good reviews.

Fiona: Do you have anything specific that you want to say to your readers?

I appreciate all of my readers. And I would love to hear from you, I’m very approachable. You can get hold of me through my website, blog, or FB page.

Fiona: What book are you reading now?
I am reading Ugly Love by Colleen Hoover.

Fiona: Do you remember the first book you read?
No. Probably Dr. Seuss!

Fiona: What makes you laugh/cry?
My dogs. I laugh when they are doing something goofy or I cry when I have to say goodbye.

Fiona: Other than writing do you have any hobbies ?
Baking, cooking, and growing an organic vegetable garden.

Fiona: What TV shows/films do you enjoy watching?
My favorites are reality shows on The Food Network, raunchy shows like Shameless, funny sitcoms like The Last Man on Earth.

Fiona: Favorite foods / Colors/ Music
I love ethnic food. I just love to eat! My favorite color is black. And when it comes to music, my taste is eclectic. I’ll listen to almost anything except country music.

Fiona: If you were not a writer what else would you like to have done?
Been a baker. I love to cook and bake.

Fiona: Do you have a blog/website? If so what is it?
My website is: http://www.jeannestjames.com
My blog is: http://jeannestjames.blogspot.com

Author Bio:
JEANNE ST. JAMES is an erotic romance author who loves an Alpha male (or two). She was only 13 started writing when she started writing since it gave her an escape from teenage angst! Her first paid published piece was an erotic story in Playgirl magazine. Her first erotic romance novel, Banged Up, was published in 2009. She is happily owned by farting French bulldogs. She writes M/F, M/M, and M/M/F ménages.

She has a few new releases coming up in 2016 and 2017. So keep an eye on her website at www.jeannestjames.com or sign up for her newsletter.

Author Links:

Website: http://www.jeannestjames.com
Blog: http://jeannestjames.blogspot.com
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/jeannestjames
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/jeannestjames/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/JeanneStJames
Amazon Author Page: https://www.amazon.com/author/jeannestjames
Goodreads: www.goodreads.com/author/show/3082300.Jeanne_St_James
Newsletter: www.jeannestjames.com/newslettersignup

 

Double Dare

Loose Id: http://www.loose-id.com/double-dare.html
Amazon: (Kindle) https://www.amazon.com/Double-Dare-Jeanne-St-James-ebook/dp/B003CT387S/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF8
iBooks: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/double-dare/id396187135?mt=11
Kobo: https://store.kobobooks.com/en-us/ebook/double-dare-23
Barnes and Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/double-dare-jeanne-st-james/1021446250?ean=9781607375029
Google Books: https://play.google.com/store/books/details/Jeanne_St_James_Double_Dare?id=-dkcBAAAQBAJ
aRe: https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-doubledare-418163-146.html


Banged Up:

Liquid Silver Publishing: http://liquidsilverpublishing.com/product/banged-up/
Amazon: Kindle https://www.amazon.com/Banged-Up-Jeanne-St-James-ebook/dp/B002X78TZQ/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF8
Kobo: https://store.kobobooks.com/en-us/ebook/banged-up-9
Google: https://play.google.com/store/books/details/Jeanne_St_James_Banged_Up?id=9IqLAwAAQBAJ
aRe: https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-bangedup-374682-149.html
iBooks: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/banged-up/id527069927?mt=11
Barnes & Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/banged-up-jeanne-st-james/1107218979?ean=9781595785947


Brothers in Blue: Max (Book 1)

Loose Id: http://www.loose-id.com/brothers-in-blue-max.html
aRe: https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-brothersinbluemax-2127550-149.html
Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Brothers-Blue-St-James-Jeanne-ebook/dp/B01LX0SZ3P/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1475187489&sr=8-1&keywords=brothers+in+blue+max
iBooks: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/brothers-in-blue-max/id1159966365?mt=11
Google Books: https://play.google.com/store/books/details/Jeanne_St_James_Brothers_in_Blue_Max?id=lAwnDQAAQBAJ
Barnes & Noble (Nook): http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/brothers-in-blue-jeanne-st-james/1124708976?ean=9781682522219
Kobo: https://store.kobobooks.com/en-us/ebook/brothers-in-blue-max


Rip Cord: The Reunion & The Weekend (Books 1 & 2)

Loose Id: http://www.loose-id.com/rip-cord.html
Amazon (Kindle): https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B01M59O308/ref=x_gr_w_bb?ie=UTF8&tag=x_gr_w_bb20&linkCode=as2&camp=1789&creative=9325&creativeASIN=B01M59O308&SubscriptionId=1MGPYB6YW3HWK55XCGG2
Barnes & Noble (Nook): http://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/%22Jeanne%20St.%20James%22?Ntk=P_key_Contributor_List&Ns=P_Sales_Rank&Ntx=mode+matchall
Google Books: https://play.google.com/store/books/details/Jeanne_St_James_Rip_Cord?id=Gds8DQAAQBAJ
Kobo: https://store.kobobooks.com/en-us/ebook/rip-cord

Friday, December 2, 2016

First Chapter Friday! Double Dare by Jeanne St. James

 
DOUBLE DARE
 The Dare Menage Series, book #1
Jeanne St. James
Genre: Contemporary Erotic Romance, LBGTQ, BDSM
Loose Id, LLC

https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/32296110-brothers-in-blue


What could be better than waking up next to a hot guy? Waking up sandwiched between two of them.
 
Quinn Preston, a financial analyst, is not happy when her friends dare her to pick up a handsome stranger at a wedding reception. What better reason to give up men when her previous long-term relationship had not only been lackluster in the bedroom but he had cheated?

Logan Reed, a successful business owner, can't believe that he's attracted to the woman in the ugly, Pepto-Bismol pink bridesmaid dress. And to boot, she's more than tipsy. After turning down her invitation for a one-night stand, he finds her in the parking lot too impaired to drive. He rescues her and takes her home. His home.
 
The next morning Quinn's conservative life turns on its ear when Logan introduces her to pleasures she never even considered before. And to make things more complicated, Logan already has a lover.
Tyson White, ex-pro football player, is completely in love with Logan. He has mixed emotions when Logan brings home Quinn. But the dares keep coming...

Publisher's Note: This book contains explicit sexual content, graphic language, and situations that some readers may find objectionable: Anal play/intercourse, BDSM theme & content, male/male sexual practices, menage (m/m/f).

Loose Id | Amazon | B&NGoogle | iTunes | Kobo
ARe
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Chapter One


Logan Reed jammed a finger into the neck of his white oxford and pulled. He needed some fucking air.
What the hell was he doing here anyway?
As he surveyed the church, a bead of sweat popped out on his forehead. His breathing had become shallow and quick. He was going to hyperventilate right there and pass out, making a fool of himself in front of everyone.
He realized one of the ushers was speaking to him.
“What?”
“Bride or groom?”
Bride or groom? Did he look like a bride?
All he wanted to do was strip off his stiff shirt, strangling tie, smothering jacket; throw on a soft, worn pair of jeans and one of his comfortable shirts; sink into his couch; toss his feet on his coffee table; and chug a nice, frosty beer.
Ah, now that was a fantasy!
But here he was, standing in a monkey suit in a church, about to be struck down by lightning at any second. He blew out a long breath to settle his thumping heart.
Logan stared at the confused usher. Unfortunately he understood the feeling.
“Neither.”
“Are you okay?”
Logan had vowed to himself to never do this again. Never be in a church again.
He reminded himself he was only there to observe. He didn't have to participate. But it didn't help. Anyone with as many sins as Logan should have been barred from religious houses. That should have been a law. But it wasn't.
For chrissakes, he had to get a grip. This was a wedding, not a crucifixion.
He had promised his sister he would be here. And even though Logan was a sinner, he never broke a promise. Never.
The usher cleared his throat.
“Dude—”
Logan pinned the suddenly flushed, sweating kid, whose suit looked two sizes too big, with a glare. “Dude?”
He watched the teen's Adam's apple bob up and down a couple of times before he felt a whoosh of air against him, and someone grabbed his elbow. Hard.
“Logan! How nice of you to get here on time.” The female voice was singsong and syrupy sweet. And it held a lot more meaning in the tone than in the words.
Logan turned to face his sister. He had to look down because she was nearly a foot shorter than him. “Hey, Shorty. Good timing.”
The petite brunette gave him a tight smile. “I see that.” She turned to the usher. “We're with the bride,” she said sweetly. “We'll just seat ourselves. Thank you.”
The usher looked relieved, and Logan almost felt bad. Almost.
The grip on his elbow tightened, and without warning, his sister dragged him down the aisle and over into one of the pews on the left.
Sit down,” Paige said through gritted teeth, even though her face held the biggest smile.
He sat.
She smoothed her dress and tucked it ladylike as she settled into the pew beside him.
“Jesus Christ, Shorty. What the hell is your problem?”
Logan watched her plastered smile falter.
“Logan, you are in a church, for God's sake. It's not the best place to take the Lord's name in vain. And if you keep doing that, I might have to move to another pew so when lightning strikes you dead, I'm in a safe spot.” She smoothed her done-up do and gave a pacifying smile across the aisle to the older couple staring at them, mouths agape.
“Hey, I didn't want to be here in the first place.”
“I ask you for one favor—”
“One? Hmm. You must have a short memory.”
“Okay, okay. Knock it off. Believe me, I appreciate your coming.”
“And the thanks I get is a bruised elbow?”
“Sorry, I thought you were going to make that guy piss his pants.”
“Well, shit, he called me dude.”
“Oh yeah, that's so much worse than you calling me Shorty.”
“I thought you liked it—” Paige elbowed him in the gut before he could say anything besides “ooof.”
The wedding march started, and the double doors opened to reveal the bride.
His sister owed him big-time.
* * * * *
Quinn Preston almost choked on her Alabama slammer when her friend elbowed her in the ribs. “Ooof.”
She saved her drink before it could spill all over her ugly bridesmaid dress. Yeah, that would have been a shame: to ruin such a nice, frumpy, pukey pink taffeta dress. One the bride had said she would be able to wear in the future. Like to a cocktail party. Or maybe her own funeral. Yeah, right. No one in their right mind would want to get caught dead in this thing.
Ruining the dress wouldn't have been a loss, but losing her drink would have. She was drinking slammers for a reason—to get good and drunk.
Lana nudged her again. “You see that?” She nodded her head toward the back of the room.
“What?” Quinn really didn't care what Lana was excited about. She just wanted to get this day over with. She was tired of watching the happy couple. She was tired of pasting on a plastic smile for the photographer. And she was really tired of listening to the sappy congratulations. All things she might never have—the wedding, the husband, the bridal bliss. And something her parents never failed to remind her. Especially now that she was in her early thirties. And single. Again.
“Not what. Who.”
“Huh?” She sucked on the dainty little straw the bartender had put in her drink. Hardly anything would come out of it. Maybe it was designed just for stirring. She pulled it out and threw it onto the bar. She really needed one of those big giant straws that came in those fancy frozen drinks.
“Him. Over there.” Lana grabbed Quinn by the shoulders and turned her around to face whatever had caught her friend's attention.
“Oh, him.” She took a deep draw of the punchlike drink, only there wasn't a bit of punch in it. Not the fruit kind anyway.
“Yeah, him.” Lana dragged out him like she was sucking on a maraschino cherry and enjoying the sweetness on her tongue.
Quinn didn't even take a good look. Men were on her shit list at the moment. She didn't care how hot they were. The potent drink in her hands was all the company she needed. She smiled into her glass; it was the best date she'd had in a while.
Another pink taffeta blur whizzed up to them, out of breath.
“Jeez Louise. Did you see that hunk of man meat?” Paula, another victim of the wedding fashion nightmare, was flushed and had a bead of sweat running down her chipmunk-like cheeks. “Do you think he's single?”
Quinn raised one shoulder in a half shrug and turned back to the bar. It was bad enough when the three of them had to stand next to each other at the altar, then throughout the grueling pictures, followed by having to sit beside each other at the head table. All in that awful pink froth. But now that it was all over, and they had done their duty for their friend Gina, there was no reason they all had to stand there looking like someone threw up Pepto-Bismol.
She leaned into the bar and asked the semicute bartender the time. When he answered that it was six, she gritted her teeth. They had only been at the reception for an hour. It was way too early to bail.
Damn.
With a sigh, she turned back to her friends. They were still ogling the male eye candy across the room.
Paula's sigh drifted over her. “I wonder if he likes women with a little meat on their bones.”
A little meat? She opened her mouth to correct Paula, but shut it quickly. Her friend didn't need to be on the receiving end of her miserable mood.
“Quinn, I bet he'd make you forget Peanut.”
Quinn winced and took another long draw from her drink. She loved the flavor and the tanginess on her tongue. And she was trying to forget Peanut. She hated the nickname her friends had called her ex-boyfriend, Peter. Once they had actually called him Peanut in front of his face—by accident, of course. Right. It had taken her a while to brush that one under the rug. He had never liked her friends after that.
On the other hand, her friends had never liked Peter from the beginning. Unlike her parents, who loved the bastard. Probably more than they loved her.
“Yeah, Quinn, he could probably fuck your brains out, and you'd never remember that douche again.”
Quinn frowned at Paula. She noticed her friend's string of pearls hiding in the skin around her neck. Quinn's hands automatically went to her neck to finger a similar necklace—a part of the stupid wedding costume. Ugh. She hated pearls!
She hated taffeta. She hated pink. She hated frilly dresses.
She took a long swig from her glass.
And she hated Peter. The asshole.
His gift to her last Valentine's Day wasn't an engagement ring. Oh no, after five long, wasted years of dating the shit, he couldn't have gotten her a ring. Nope. Instead he sent her a text message.
That was it.
A stupid little text message. One line.
We've grown apart and I've found someone new.
She deserved more than that. Something better. After all those years of loyalty, standing by his side, being the “good, proper” girlfriend. As Peter had expected. As her parents had expected. The girlfriend any decent man would want on his arm. Right?
Not even a sorry. Not even an explanation. Nothing.
And the next day, FedEx had delivered a box with all the things she had left over at his apartment during the last half decade.
Quinn emptied her glass and turned back to the bar, blocking out her friends' chattering over that man.
She needed another man like she needed a hole in the head.
She slid her glass over the bar top, and before she could ask for another, a deep voice washed over her.
“Put her next drink on me.”
Dumb ass. The drinks are on the house. She turned to ream whoever it was, and stopped. Her mouth opened, but nothing escaped.
“You look like a fish out of water with your mouth hanging open like that.” When he smiled, the lines around his eyes crinkled. He was tan, an outdoorsy tan, not a manmade one. And he had beautiful green eyes. Shit. She had never seen such beautiful eyes on a man. His nose was a little crooked, like it had been broken, and it made him even more beautiful. No. Not beautiful. He was… He was…
Quinn closed her mouth and swallowed hard. He was so unperfect, he was perfect. His hair was a dark brown with natural highlights, more proof he liked being outdoors. It was long and pulled back into a neat ponytail.
She hated long hair on men. But it was right on him.
He had a beard that wasn't a beard. It was like a longer five-o'clock shadow.
She hated facial hair.
He had a strong, corded neck that disappeared into a stiff dress shirt. The collar had been already released and one more button undone below that. The knot of his tie was loose and hung crookedly from around his neck.
The sleeves of his crispy white shirt were rolled up to his elbows, and his forearms were tan covered in dark hair. His hands…
Oh. Damn.
His hands were large. They were working hands. They weren't soft and pampered. But calloused and thick and strong.
Capable. Capable of doing all kinds of things.
Quinn's nipples hardened under the scratchy taffeta.
His hands could do all kinds of dirty, nasty things.
Things Peter had never wanted to do…
Quinn ripped her gaze from him and spun back around to the bar, bracing herself against it for a second to catch her breath. She grabbed her fresh drink and took a gulp.
“Whoa. Slow down there.”
She pressed the cold drink against her forehead in an attempt to cool herself off.
She needed to go change her panties, she was so freaking wet.
She could feel his heat next to her; his body was like a furnace. She wanted to plant her hands on his chest and feel how hot he really was. Her fingers convulsed around her glass.
“Are you okay?” The deep timbre of his voice sent a shot of lightning down her body, landing right in her pussy.
Quinn could only nod her answer.
He palmed her bare shoulder and turned her to him. He stared down into her eyes, his lips widening into a smile.
His lips. Oh man. Those lips probably could do all sorts of things to her, with her. Lips that were made for more than kissing…
Yes.” Oh my God, she thought. That was the kind of yes she blurted when she was in the midst of an orgasm. At least from what she could remember. It had been so long since she'd come…with a partner, anyway.
She felt the heat crawl up her neck, and she stepped back, breaking the contact.
“I…I'm fine.” She cleared her throat. “Thank you for the drink.” She took another sip before raising the glass to him in thanks.
“It was nothing.” When he laughed, her knees almost buckled. “Enjoy it.”
He stepped away and then paused. But it looked as though he thought better of whatever he was contemplating, and he continued on his way.
Quinn leaned back against the bar and let out a shaky breath.
She was suddenly flanked on either side by her friends. She had been so distracted, she hadn't even realized that they disappeared.
“Quinn—”
“Quinn!”
“Oh. My. God!”
“I told you he was hot!”
“Oh! I wish I weren't married already.”
“I wish he liked chubby chicks.”
Quinn couldn't take any more. She raised her palms in surrender. “Stop. Enough.”
“But, Quinn—”
“But nothing,” Quinn answered Paula.
“You're just going to let him walk away?”
“Paula, he isn't going anywhere. Unfortunately I'm not going anywhere. We have to be here for two more hours, at least.”
Lana said, “Are you going to let Peter ruin the rest of your life? All men aren't assholes like him.”
Quinn harrumphed and took another sip of her slammer.
“Why don't you at least dance with him?”
“No.”
“Why not?” Lana asked.
Why not? Because if she did, she might come right on the dance floor? Because she might end up in a puddle of her own juices? The picture in her head shocked her: it was of her lying in a heap in the middle of the dance floor in the throes of an orgasm. Surrounded by all the wedding guests…
This drink was stronger than she thought.
“Because no one is dancing yet.”
“Sure they are. Look.”
Quinn glanced over at the area cleared for dancing, and sure enough, a crowd of people were out there shaking their groove thing. Quinn had been too busy trying to get her drink on to notice.
From the looks of the participants on the dance floor, a few of them had been partaking in the open bar also. Even the bride and her new husband were bouncing and shimmying in the crowd.
At least they were a happy couple.
Quinn took another drink.
Lana frowned at her. “Are you just going to drink tonight, or are you going to do something about your situation?”
“Situation? What situation?”
“Getting laid.”
Quinn checked over her shoulder to see if the bartender was listening. He was. He had a big grin plastered on his face. Great.
The father of the bride came up and asked for a gin and tonic. While he was waiting, he turned to them. “Hi, girls. Enjoying yourselves? You look great in those dresses. My wife picked them out.”
Oh joy. Quinn would have to remember to smack—she meant thank—her. She couldn't wait to rip the scratchy, ugly piece of shit off.
All three women gave him a smile but bit their tongues. Eventually he wandered away, and Lana and Paula jumped right back to harassing her. Good thing they were her friends.
“C'mon. It's not going to hurt to have a one-night stand. Look at him.”
“I already saw him.” Holy moley, she knew they meant well, but they were getting on her last nerve.
“Yeah, and we saw how you were drooling too.”
She had not drooled. Her hand automatically went up to her mouth.
Paula said, “He probably isn't interested in you anyway.”
“Yeah, you couldn't get someone like that. You attract losers like Peter,” Lana said.
If they thought their reverse psychology was going to work, well, it wasn't.
“Looks like he's with Paige Reed, anyway.”
Quinn's gaze shot over to the corner of the ballroom where the tall man stood next to the petite, dark-haired beauty. Paige Reed. Figures.
“I thought Paige was dating Connor Morgan,” Quinn mumbled.
She must have mumbled loud enough, because Lana answered her. “She is. Connor had to fly to Australia for something to do with his job.”
“So why is she with him?” Quinn asked. Why was she so curious all of a sudden? Why did she care?
She didn't. She nursed her drink. After one and a half Alabama slammers, she was starting to feel pretty tipsy. She wasn't used to drinking. And when she did drink, she usually had wine, not hard liquor, and especially not such a hard-hitting mix of liquors.
Paula leaned into the both of them and said in an exaggerated whisper, “Maybe he's an escort,” like it was a scandal, and then laughed.
Maybe he was an escort.
He was probably worth every penny too.
His back was to them now, but that just gave Quinn the opportunity to study how broad those shoulders were in his dress shirt. When he moved, the fabric bunched and pulled with his muscles.
Lana gasped, jerking Quinn out of her thoughts. “He's not an escort! That's Logan Reed, Paige's brother. I haven't seen him since we were kids. Holy shit, did he grow up.”
“I'll say.” Paula agreed. “Quinn, I dare you to go ask him to dance.”
“Not interested.”
Lana joined in. “Yeah, I dare you too. Don't be a wuss.”
If she were a wuss, she wouldn't have come out in public in this pink atrocity. And the matching shoes were killing her feet. The last thing she needed was to be dancing. She'd be crippled.
“That's a double dare, you know, with the two of us daring you.”
Oh, boy, a double dare. She would definitely do it now—not. “You're crazy.”
“No, you are, if you pass up this opportunity.”
“How do you know he's available?” Quinn asked them.
“You don't know until you ask him,” Lana said. “But if I remember correctly, his wife left him a while ago. There had been some rumors…”
There had been some rumors about her and Peter too, but rumors were just that: rumors. She didn't take any stock in them.
Paula suddenly shouted, “Truth or dare?” making Quinn jump. It was like they were teenagers all over again.
Lana quickly said, “Truth.” And bounced on her toes like she was fifteen.
Jesus, would someone please put a bullet in my head? Quinn needed to be put out of her misery.
Paula asked Lana, “Do you shave or wax?”
“Shave. Okay, Quinn, your turn. Truth or dare?”
Quinn was not playing this juvenile game. It was stupid; she was not going to fall into what was clearly a trap.
“Truth.”
“How bad was Peter in bed?” Lana asked.
Damn. She wasn't going to answer that one. Even as drunk as she was. She didn't want to relive their vanilla, boring lovemaking. And she definitely didn't want to admit it or talk about it.
There was only one thing left for her to do.

About the Author:
JEANNE ST. JAMES is an erotic romance author who loves an Alpha male (or two). She was only 13 started writing when she started writing since it gave her an escape from teenage angst! Her first paid published piece was an erotic story in Playgirl magazine. Her first erotic romance novel, Banged Up, was published in 2009. She is happily owned by farting French bulldogs. She writes M/F, M/M, and M/M/F ménages.
She has a few new releases coming up in 2016 and 2017. So keep an eye on her website at www.jeannestjames.com or sign up for her newsletter.


Thursday, December 1, 2016

Book Blitz: The Illusion of Ecstasy by Nicole Loufas


Illusion of Ecstasy
Nicole Loufas
(2nd Dose in the Thizz Series)
Publication date: December 1st 2016
Genres: Contemporary, New Adult
When Dani discovered the cash hidden in her attic, she had no idea the problems it would bring. With the help of the Marino’s, Dani is able to launder her father’s dirty money, but their help comes with a price. Her relationship with Matt.
Not wanting to hurt Dani’s future or freedom, Matt removes himself from the equation to keep everyone safe. But when it’s time to go home, he has to decide which is more important – watching his little sister grow up or returning to the girl of his dreams.
Nick is determined to make good on all the bad he’s caused, and has finally accepted his role as a Marino. Fate doesn’t make it easy for him. Especially, when he returns from Europe to find Dani is falling apart. With Matt out of the picture, Nick contemplates a future with the only girl he’s ever loved.
In the conclusion to Thizz, A Love Story, follow Dani, Matt, and Nick on a soul-searching journey into adulthood. The Illusion of Ecstasy explores the emotional tribulations they encounter without the help of thizz. How to deal with real emotion becomes the biggest obstacle of all on their road to maturity.
EXCERPT:
Nick and I circle each other for a few minutes. I wait for him to make the first move. He always makes the first move. To my surprise, he just keeps circling and smiling. Finally, I go for it. I lunge, and he falls against the padded headboard. Wood cracks. I keep wailing on him with the pillow. Nick grabs me around my knees and takes me down. He tries to pin me using a move I taught him. He has no chance. I arch my back and twist my body. Before Nick can take his next breath, I’ve got him flipped over. We’re both breathing heavy. I hold Nick by the neck, not too hard. I don’t want to hurt him. Not really. I’m lying on my back, my arm wrapped around his neck as he’s lying beside me, sort of in front of me. I feel his hand tap out at the same time the screen on the front door squeaks open and then slams shut.
Nick starts to laugh when Dani appears in the doorway.
She takes in the room. The comforter on the floor, the sheets askew. Nick in my arms. She’s trying really hard to keep a straight face. “Am I interrupting something?”
“Just working out some aggression,” Nick jokes and breaks free.
I want to ask what she’s doing here, but I suspect Nick had everything to do with it. The phone call, changing the sheets, it makes sense now. That thoughtful motherfucker.
“I can come back later,” she teases and breaks into a huge grin. Her face lights up. She only beams like this when she’s high. There is only one person who could’ve given her pills.
Nick jumps off the bed and wraps Dani in his arms. He pulls back and kisses her on the forehead. Her eyes flutter closed, and all I can think is—karma is a bitch.
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Author Bio:
Nicole was born and raised in California. She claims to be a San Francisco native, however she's lived in both Northern and Southern California. She credits her creativity to the fact that she attended 12 schools between kindergarten and her senior year in high school. Her nomadic childhood allowed her to reinvent herself often. Some might say she was a liar. While others see the stories she told as a coping mechanism. Twelve schools, in six cities, in twelve years - give her a break. Today she channels her storytelling ability into writing novels. Long story short - kids that lie become writers.

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Wednesday, November 30, 2016

Book Excerpt and Blog: Whitley Cox


Love, Passion and Power: Part 1
Whitley Cox
He was her new beginning; she was his undoing...

When personal trainer Kendra Black saw millionaire Justin Williams walk through her door all she saw was money and a practiced swagger. A man who's used to getting what he wants, especially when it comes to women. But Kendra is startled to realize that there is more to Justin than meets the eye, he’s kind and funny and brilliant, and she wants him, desperately. Unable to resist Kendra or her fiery spirit and zest for life, right from the start, Justin pursues her, only her troubled childhood holds her back. She’s been running from love for so long, she doesn’t know how to stop and let it catch up.
Elated when Kendra finally gives into their attraction, Justin jumps in with both feet, only his hectic and demanding life continues to interfere, and Kendra’s past comes creeping back and the two are tested. When the couple embarks on a daring, passionate and physical adventure, Justin discovers Kendra’s secrets and fears while exploring and uncovering his own wild and dark desires.



Love, Passion and Power: Part 1
The Dark and Damaged Hearts Series Book 1
***Coming January 29, 2016***
Available for pre-order

Excerpt

“This is a nice place,” Sam cooed as we stumbled into Justin’s house around midnight. “You guys live here together?” she loosened her tie and started undoing the buttons on her blouse. This chick didn’t waste any time!
“No, no!” I corrected, perhaps a bit too quickly, causing Justin to give me a questioning look. “It’s… this is not my decorating taste. Too modern and sterile.” Justin raised his eyebrows in mock surprise.
“So you don’t live together?” she asked again, taking her blouse off and tossing it on to the couch, revealing a very sexy, lacy, white push-up bra that was doing a damn fine job of pushing up her delicious looking tits.
“No,” I repeated. Justin went into the kitchen and poured us all a sniffer of Brandy. I couldn’t take my eyes off of her breasts, they were magnificent. All I wanted to do was run the pad of my thumb across her nipples and bury my head between their pillowy softness. Suddenly I felt very self-conscious about my own modest B-cups.
“Are you guys a couple?”
“We’re working on it,” he cut in. Handing each of us a short boxy tumbler of liquor. I took a sip and it burned my throat causing me to cough a bit.
“So should we take this to the bedroom?” Sam sing-songed as she circled behind me and started unzipping my dress. It fell to the ground like quicksilver, leaving me standing there in a strapless cream and black bustier with matching thong. The inhale of Justin’s breath told me he was surprised and pleased with my choice of lingerie.
“Yes, let’s!” he added eagerly, having already removed his jacket and starting to loosen his tie and unbutton his dress shirt.

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Okay! So, I'm the newest of the newbs when it comes to all things bloggy, so please bear with me. I'm not exactly sure how it goes, or what to talk about. These days I spend the majority of my time ready mommy blogs and sighing in quiet thanks, when I learn that I'm not the only woman out there who has had fleeting thoughts of selling her child on Etsy and using the money to fund a live-aboard trip to the Galapagos. Kids are time suckers. And sometimes they just suck. I'm excited to apart of this diverse and talented group of women and I can't wait for my books to start rolling out, and I can really dive in deep and get to know my readers. 

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Tuesday, November 29, 2016

Release Day: Triple Cursed by Shakuita Johnson

triple-cursed-by-shakuita-johnson-blitz-banner
triple_cursed-400


The end is near...
Death is coming for them all...it's only a matter of time. Who will die and who will live? The monsters are no longer hiding and they have murder in their hearts.
A challenge has been issued and it's time to soak the fields in blood. A power thought long ago banished has resurfaced and she only has one thing in mind: total destruction.
Can the powers-that-be ban together in time to stop her and unleash their weapons upon her or will the world, as they know it, cease to exist forever?

 

About the Book

Triple Cursed
by Shakuita Johnson
Series
Dark Indiscretions #4
Genre
Adult
Urban Fantasy
Paranormal Romance
Publisher
Independent
Publication Date
November 29, 2016

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Connected Books in the Dark Indiscretions Series

dark-indiscretions-1-0-dark-indiscretions  dark-indiscretions-2-0-monster-unleashed  dark-indiscretions-3-0-seer-destined  triple_cursed

About Shakuita Johnson

shakuita-johnsonShakuita Johnson is a 31-year-old Psychology major. When she isn't going to school or working, she is doing what she loves most. Writing. She started writing in middle school. She would write poetry in her room or the middle of the night. Then she was introduced to short stories in a creative writing course her senior year. Her love for paranormal and supernatural started with R.L. Stine Goosebumps books and TV shows, Anne Rice Vampire Chronicles, and Christopher Pike books. She is an avid reader with over 100 books on her bookshelf and 1000 plus on her iPad. She also loved to watch Charmed and Buffy the Vampire Slayer with her mom.
Dark Indiscretions is her first novel and is a Paranormal Thriller. She has followed it up with Dark Indiscretions: Monster Unleashed, Dark Indiscretions: A Prequel, Dark Indiscretions: Seer Destined and Rumspringa (Dark Indiscretions #3.5).
She also released her Dark Romance which has a bit of suspense entitled And So She Waited.
She is currently working on her first erotica serial Kiss and Tell: Encounters of a Prostitute and the final two Dark Indiscretions books.

Shakuita's Links

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Monday, November 28, 2016

Author Interview with Cailin Briste

WELCOME TO ONE OF OUR OWN RWBB AUTHORS: CAILIN BRISTE!

Genre: Science Fiction Romance, Erotic Romance

What’s the kinkiest, sexiest thing you’ve ever done:

Hmmm. I’m not sure I want to admit to that. The biggest stretch for me, something I wasn’t totally comfortable with but did any way, was sex in public. And, no, it didn’t get easier on repeat. And, no, we never got caught.

How bad do you get with your writing, are we talking just suggestion or down right bondage?

Downright bondage. I go way past bondage sometimes into things that may make my readers uncomfortable, but it always has purpose behind it. In Maon the first kink scene included cock and ball torture. Dr. K had a hard time reading that, but it was integral to who Maon was and how he perceived himself. In this instance, it wasn’t about sex.

What’s the best thing you’ve ever written—the best line?

I’m not sure I have a best line I’ve written, but I do have a scene I love. Here’s a bit of it:
Randolph settled back and took a swig from his beer. “I don’t get the puke joke. Something about Selina’s pink dress.”
“Morning sickness,” Shane said.
“God, kids.”
“He bought it lock, stock, and barrel,” Shane agreed.
“Better him than me,” Randolph said. “Just being at a wedding scares the crap out of me.”
Shane laughed. “No worries. There’s not a Tallavan woman alive that’d marry either one of us. Off planet, we do the asking. We’re safe.”
“Mmmpf,” Randolph agreed.
Shane’s book is first in the series, so those who are reading it in publication order already know that Shane has found his one true love. And as far as Randolph being safe, not a chance. He’s next up.

If you could have any movie star take on a role as one of your heroes, who would it be?

I’ve played with the celebrity cast for Shane and blogged on my selections for Shane and Adrianna In Shane: Marshal of Tallav, Joe Manganiello would play Shane, and Rachel McAdams would play Adrianna. I’ll be posting more about the fantasy casts for both Shane and Maon: Marshal of Tallav in the future. I also have Pinterest boards for each of my novels that include cast photos and a board just for the House of Shirley (fashion design house) from Maon.

Size counts… on average how loooooonnnnnggg do you like your (um, how do we put it delicately) manuscripts to be ;> (in words silly, not inches) and how steamy?

My novels run between 90,000 and 100,000 words. My short stories run between 6,000 and 7,000 words. I’m working on a novella which I think will be about 20,000 words.

What are the hardest scenes to write for you?

The more emotionally intimate a scene becomes the harder it is for me to write. I tend to pull back and not get to the true heart of the scene. My editors don’t let me get away with this.

How close in real life have you gotten to one of your fantasies?

If you leave out fantasies that are not physically possible (yet – science fiction can become science fact), then I would have to say I’ve come close. The only factor that would keep me back would be the willingness of Dr. K. He was my fantasy come to life when I first met him, and he still is today.

Do your books have a message you want your readers to grasp?

I’m not a happy-for-now person. My books all have a happily-ever-after (HEA). Because I believe in marriage, my characters get married. I also like to play with viewpoints in my novels. So, the Sons of Tallav all come from a matriarchal planet where they struggle with their masculine nature in a society that has swapped traditional male/female roles. I explore what that would be like for dominant alpha men and how they struggle to find their HEA. if there's a message in that, it would be that inflexibility in society will always make life hard for those who don't fit the mold. But I don't preach that in the book. I can't stand books that make their "message" more important than the story. My books are all about the characters and their stories.

What would you want other writers and your readers to know about you?

I read as much as I write, and I think that makes me a better writer. While I write science fiction romance, I love Regency romance, mysteries, thrillers, fantasy, and military science fiction. Each of these genres influence my writing. For example, when I began writing the Sons of Tallav series set in the Federation several millennia in the future, I drew my own star map and figured out lots of technical details for how people traveled in space. Some of this is found in the books, especially Shane, but most of it was worldview building for myself, to get a sense of that universe. My readers didn’t need to know all that stuff, but I did. I’ve uploaded a Sons of Tallav glossary of terms to my free page that goes into greater depth for those readers who want more detail on my worldbuilding.

I also am very appreciative of advice and feedback from anyone willing to give it. When it comes to others' impressions of my book. I want to know the good, the bad, and the ugly. So, please post reviews of my books and let me know what you think. If there’s something you hate, I want to know. But I’ll also admit to wanting to know what you liked. I don’t write for myself. I write for you.

And finally, anything you would like to share with us, an excerpt, a tidbit, or anything else about yourself?

I’ll share a tidbit from my upcoming release Maon: Marshal of Tallav. This is the first time Maon sees Selina as a Domme. She’s disguised, so he has no idea who it is.
He caught a flash of color. Shit. He came to an abrupt halt, exploring the vision across the room. Burnt-orange corset, a tiny black skirt, full latex hood with a flame feathered mask, and black leather stiletto boots. Everything about her sizzled fiery hot. The flogger and whip hung at her hip and the riding crop in her hand screamed Domme. The sizzle didn’t stop at her accoutrements. The sight of her seared Maon. It wasn’t physically possible for a woman that small to have legs that long. Or was she just perfectly proportioned? Whatever. He would suffer burns to be near her.

Author Bio
Cailin has been writing fiction for five years and non-fiction for two decades. Her non-fiction work has been published in magazines and in a non-fiction anthology. She’s a member of Romance Writers of America, the RWA Fantasy, Futuristic and Paranormal Chapter, and the RWA Passionate Ink Chapter.

Cailin likes to flip convention on its head, creating a universe in which each planet is a study in different what ifs. What would happen to alpha men on a matriarchal planet where the women are not Dommes in the strictest sense but certainly have the attitude down pat? How would society handle it if girls born on their new planet developed empathic senses? Cailin throws her characters into these settings, heroes and heroines whose kink is a major defining attribute of their personality.

Links to reach Cailin Briste: Website | Blog | Email | Goodreads | Pinterest | Facebook | Twitter