Friday, April 30, 2010

Flirty Friday-

Have you ever?

Would you ever?

Made love in a public place?

Was it the adrenalin of you could get caught?

Was it the heat of the moment?

Was it the thrill of being naughty?

Who started the heat of the moment?

Did it start discreetly?

Was it filled with passion?

So, have you ever? I'll admit it- I have. When? Where? That's between me and the walls...or the trees...or the- well, you get the point. Naughty is as naughty does.

Thursday, April 29, 2010

Thursday 13 by Jacqueline Paige

Have you ever craved something?

Whether it’s good for you or not?

You know what I mean, the joy of something sinful

on your taste buds ...

Here are 13 things that might fit into that category.

I have a real sweet tooth . . .

Tuesday, April 27, 2010

Humpin' Like a Dirty Dawg

Wednesday is popularly known as hump day... yep, midpoint and downhill to the weekend. Of course, ‘hump’ also has its own naughty use as a description for the sex act... at least, back in my day.

Never being into the whole *humpster doin’ it thang*, I’m not up on the latest and greatest usages for HUMP. Maybe, you all can enlighten me.

Still, the other day I was lamenting the lack of spitfires out there in media landia. Except, for those intrepid, fiery-tongued heroines in our romance novels... well, where the hell are they hiding these days?

Where is Scarlett O’Hara? Where is the sassitude of Katherine Hepburn as she takes on Spencer Tracey? What happened to the blazing battle of the sexes? Remember John Wayne and Maureen O’Hara? Gee, even Doris Day had ear-steaming, *I’m gonna get him* spunk that had Rock Hudson desperate to earn her love.

Anyway, it got me thinking, always dangerous... or, it got me inspired to begin one more WIP... always dangerous because I’m wading in them. At least, I’ll never be without a story idea.

So, here’s as far as I’ve gotten in my western futuristic...

Humpin’ Like a Dirty Dawg

April 03, 2027

Dawg Remington stalked inside the Buckaroo Blue, a lightweight honky-tonk bar and the town’s only thirst-quenchin’ establishment. He thumped his denim-clad, dusty ass down on the nearest bar stool, and waited. Around him, the dancing crowd gathered in anticipation of the local band, Outlaw Crew.

Once his parched throat was good and wet, a spin on dance floor with a couple of the ladies was to his liking. And, if anything consensual developed, well, his cock stirred, a bronc wantin’ to bust out for a woman wild enough to ride him the way he was partial to, at times.

“Dawg, what’da want?” Crow Sun hollered. “Got a shipment of Black Dew Ale, if you have a hankerin’.”

Why not go with his taste buds? He could afford it now. “Yeah, shoot a bottle over, Crow. No, better. Slide a mug over, too. Foam being as tasty as it is.”

In moments, he gripped the cool bottle and Crow gave his famous arm-swing sliding the mug along the bar’s slick surface.

“Coin or tab?” Gayle called out, Crow’s better half, once he’d seized the mug.

Deciding he didn’t want to concern himself with paying a tab in case he got fucking lucky, Dawg dug a silver coin out of his shirt pocket’s inner pouch. Placing it atop his thumbnail, he sighted Gayle. “Comin’ your way, sweetheart.”

“Ready and willin’,” Gayle returned.

Dawg flipped the large coin toward her. With ease she caught it, deftly trapping it between her palms. “Your eye is as good as ever,” he complimented.

“Your coin is as good as ever,” she sang back sassily.

Before pouring the premium ale, he swung his gaze over the crowd, habit because a man could never be too careful about who might be gunnin’ for his hide. And, he hoped to spot a few frisky females.

“Hell,” he muttered under his breath. She was here. Miss Smart Mouth. Talk about gunnin’ for him. Every time she got a chance she shot him down verbally.

Course, to be fair, he’d given her good cause in the beginning. He’d done the unforgivable, mocking her when she’d been thrown from a young horse she’d been training. His funny bone had gotten the better of him, since she’d gone sailin’ through the air, and landed square in a rose bush.

Oh, he’d tried giving her a private apology for his lack gentlemanly manners. She’d stuck up her nose, turned on her heel and sashayed away from him as if he talked about stealing her virtue. The war over the roses, as he thought of it, was on then. A true lady would have accepted his apology.

Uncapping the ale, Dawg poured with ritual deliberation, thoroughly enjoying the dark amber liquid flowing down the side of the glass mug. A thick head of foam was his reward, along with the appetizing fragrance of hops, malt, and the fresh robust smell of wheat and oats.

It had taken about a decade, but some of the niceties of life had returned, one of them being Black Dew Ale. Raising the mug, Dawg took an appreciative swallow. Yep, damn fine way to whet his whistle. He’d spent the day teaching others how to fly the small planes they’d been able to salvage, and were now in the process of manufacturing.

Since he also had business in town, and with sundown streaking across the far horizon, he figured some relaxation was in order. Taking his time he savored a few long draws before taking a hopeful look over his shoulder. The band had arrived and were setting up. As always, many of the youngest ladies stood in a horseshoe shape ogling the three renegade-looking types.

A few more women entered the bar. Suzie gave him a wave, her gaze inviting. He saluted her with the mug. He’d never been with her biblically, given she and one of his buddies, Grady had an on and off lust-hot romance. Must be off, if Suzie gave him the eye-flashing come on. But, Dawg was leery of wading into those sweet female waters.

Grady had one helluva a right hook and besides, his engineering skills were crucial to their plane manufacturing venture. Dawg had rarely stepped into another man’s territory when it came to women or anything else, and he wasn’t about to start now. Swigging down more of the ale, he felt its mellowing affects.

“Dawg,” a sweet little voice trilled his name. He turned on his stool, meeting Maisy’s dark brown eyes. Not only that, her gal group accompanied her, including Miss Smart Mouth, otherwise known as Skylar.

Maisy smiled, a woman trying out her wings. “How did Ben do with his flyin’ lessons today?”

“Passed with flyin’ colors, Miss Maisy. Your brother is a right good pilot.”

Dawg ignored Skylar’s irritated glare.

Maisy cozied up to him, her hip touching his knee. “You in the mood for a swing around the dance floor once the music begins?”

“Oh for gawd’s sake, Maisy, he’d older than dirt.” Skylar crossed her arms, her gaze scorching, and Dawg figured he should be smelling his own cooked flesh. “Not only that, he’s grime from head to toe.”

“Good honest dirt is appealing. Besides, I like him the way he is,” Maisy shot back.

“Suit yourself. But I hear tell, he’s a bust ‘em, then leave ‘em high and dry kinda cowpoke.”
Skylar mockingly emphasized cowpoke.

Truth to tell, Maisy wasn’t his kind of woman, and not just because of her relatively tender age. But if it was going to ruffle Skylar’s feathers, well hell, he’d give her a whirl or two.

“These boots are made for dancin’, Miss Maisy. Once the music gets going I’d like stepping the beat with you.”

Maisy smiled widely, her gaze glimmering with hope. Damn, he hadn’t meant to give her the wrong idea. Even if was achin’ to be with a woman, it wouldn’t be her.

“Why don’t you act like a real gentleman and go wash up?” Skylar arrowed her voice. “Oh, and don’t forget to shave. That grizzle your sporting has to be several days’ growth.”

“Skylar, you must be hurtin’ his feelings, carrying on like that.” Maisy spun around eyeing her friend. “I told you I like him all... well, grizzled and mature.”

“What did you expect? You know we get along like feuding skunks.”

“I’ve never even seen feuding skunks.” Maisy planted her fists on her overly slim hips.

“Well, I have. They were having a stink war over who was gettin’ under the Smith’s porch. Yup, turned right around like drawing gunfighters. Only they lifted their tails threatening each other.” Halting, Skylar drew on him, aiming her irate gaze. “This is your fault, Dawg breath.”

Something snapped inside him like a machine belt tearing apart. Somewhere deep inside, and Dawg figured he was about to do something he’d regret for a long, long time. Most probably. That didn’t stop him from letting go of his mug.

“Dawg breath?” He arched his brows. Calm as when he’d faced down the enemy during the battles to protect their Colorado river territory, Dawg stood, facing down his adorable little nemesis. “Darlin’, I’ve about had it with that mouth of yours.”

She didn’t back down an inch. If anything her chin jutted out farther. “Humping Dawg, that’s all you are. Why don’t you tell Maisy the truth about yourself?”

Heck to hell, were those actual sparks leaping out of her eyes? He damn well intended to find out. Dawg gently lifted Maisy out the way, then strode toward Skylar. Quickly, her friends parted, giving him a direct path to the smart mouth spitfire, who appeared ready to give him the fight of his life. If she’d been wearing her pistols, she might have drawn on him.

“Humpin’ Dawg?” He halted. Towering over her, he bent over until they glared face-to-face.

“Damn humping Dawg,” she paused, then delivered the coup de grace, “A humping dirty Dawg, if you prefer.”

Good God, why hadn’t he noticed her ripe-for-the-taking lips? He did now. Using his arm like a steel band, he trapped her against him. Swooping down he claimed her mouth good and hard.
Pure shock kept her still, at first. When she started to struggle, he wrapped his other arm around her. He’d intended to kiss her fast, then let her go. Not now. She tasted sweeter than heaven. More, his cock strained against his jeans, and fought like a beast to get inside her sweetness.

He’d always been attracted to her physical beauty. He’d had no idea how much until now. And, he sure as fuckin’ hell wasn’t letting her go. She fit him like no other woman. It was time for him to tame himself a spitfire. Or, she could tame him. Dawg didn’t care.

He knew what he wanted. Her. Skylar, the smart mouth.

He ground his lips on hers in a kiss that finally had her responding enough to give him hope he’d awakened a mustard seed’s worth of desire in her.



Savanna Kougar

~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance ~

Author of ~

All Shades of Blue Paradise
Red Lioness Tamed
When a Good Angel Falls ~ In Print
Tangerine Carnal Dreams
Murder by Hair Spray in Gardenia, New Atlantis ~ In Print
Black Cat Beauty
Her Insatiable Dark Heroes ~ In Print
Stallion of Ash and Flame ~ In Print ~
Branded by the Texans ~ Coming in August 2010 from Siren-BookStrand

Character Interview: Mace Walker, FBI Agent

Interview with Mace Walker, FBI Agent
(from BANGED UP)

1. Mace, what made you want to become an FBI agent?

I know this may sound corny, but I really wanted to fight crime. I considered becoming a police officer but love challenges and I knew it was a challenge to get into the FBI. I can't resist a challenge whether it has to do with my job… or getting the attention of an attractive female.

2. How long have you done it? Is it in your genes?

Right out of college. I obtained my B.S. in Criminal Justice with a minor in Spanish.

Since I speak Spanish it didn’t take much to learn Italian. I sort of look Italian so the agency thought I’d fit right in with the Mafia. Manni Spinozi is one of the worst mob bosses out there. After three years of being a junior agent, I went undercover to infiltrate the Spinozi family.

No, it’s not in my genes. My father was a college professor. No one that I know of in my family was in law enforcement.

3. Have you ever shot anyone?

Yes. I’ve shot several subjects. I’ve killed one out of self-defense. He was actually Spinozi’s brother. He shot me first when I was “made” by the family. Half of my thigh is gone. It’s an ugly injury and put me out of commission.

4. So you are out on disability right now? How do you like that forced vacation?

Yes. I am doing physical therapy, trying to redevelop the remaining muscle in my thigh. I walk with a slight limp when it is bothering me. I want to work my way back to full strength so I can get back to work.

I needed a break, so I’m not complaining too much. But I wish it was just a vacation and not a “recovery.” I was getting pretty worn out physically and mentally playing the role of a mob thug 24/7.

5. Are you glad to be home?

Yes, I was gone – deep undercover – for two years. So it’s nice to be back home, being myself and not having to act a part.

Though I came home to find a stranger in my house.

6. A stranger? Who was it?

Yes, I had no idea someone was living in my house besides my sister. It has made being home a little more interesting. And that’s putting it mildly.

You’ll have to read Banged Up, which is my story, to find out who she is.

7. Do you have any siblings?

Yes, one sister, Maxi. She was living in my house while I was away undercover. But I came home to find out she had married and went on an extended European honeymoon. Apparently, she let this stranger live in my house while she is gone.

8. How about love interests?

A man doesn’t kiss and tell. But if you really want to know, again, you’ll have to read Banged Up which available now at Liquid Silver Books.

9. What do you think about a story that was written about you?

I found it interesting… I can’t complain about the steamy scenes and I really liked the ending.

Find out more about Mace Walker in Banged Up by Jeanne St. James – available NOW at Liquid Silver Books ( You can read about Banged Up, including an excerpt, at her website at

Keep up to date with erotic romance author Jeanne St. James by checking out her blog at, her MySpace page at, her Facebook page at And she Twitters at

Jeanne also has a m/m erotic novella, Rip Cord, a BESTSELLER at Phaze as part of their “rebel” themed Heatsheets ( and a m/m/f interracial ménage a trois, Double Dare, at Loose Id (

Monday, April 26, 2010

Author of the Week: Nicole Gestalt

I wanted to interview Nicole this month since her release with Phaze Touch of Silver came out!!!! Nicole is a bit of a hero of mine from what I've learned from her and the bit I know of her. Currently she's  making a living as a writer and artist.

Living in England has to be so beautiful but I hear her is here in New Hampshire with her partner.

She's a busy woman and writes as: Heidi Cook (General fiction), Heidi Morbannaon (Science Fiction and Fantasy), Talu Briar (Horror) , Melissandra Clover (Certain joint works) and Nicole Gestalt (Erotica) and runs her own blog at The Gestalt Bourdour.

So Nicole, you're a busy woman. Surely you find time to let loose and have some fun. What’s the kinkiest, sexiest thing you’ve ever done: hmm…I think that would be telling *wink* but….read my books and you might get an idea from them.

How bad do you get with your writing, are we talking just suggestion or down right bondage? It varies from book to book, Summer of Fire for example is a hot little piece of romance a couple brought together during a series of arson attacks. Whilst Melting Point: Breaking the Mould takes place in a BDSM club and has scenes of wax play in it.

Certainly you write other genre's but your erotica sounds hot. I'm sure you have your favorite stories but what's the best thing you’ve ever written—the best line? That’s an easy one…though maybe a little cliched. The best thing I’ve ever written were the words: The End. When I wrote them on the first story I’d ever written I knew I if I could finish one I could finish more, it gave me such a boost to my confidence that I’d been able to get even that far.

I felt the same way--it's exhilirating, isn't it? :> 

A lot of romance writers pin up pictures and music, even watch movies. It always leads to the question, if you could have any movie star take on a role as one of your heroes, who would it be? Hmm…I think I’d love to have Terrance Zdunich (the screenwriter and actor from Repo! The Genetic Opera – if you’ve never seen it do so!) to play Kevalan the icy hero from my fantasy Cold Fire. He has such a great range of looks and expressions that personally I think he would be perfect for the role.

I haven't seen that... I'm going to have to google him. It's always interesting to check out the hotties around here and there's always a new one. Ahem... okay back to the interview.

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? I like them to be the size they want to be. Sometimes a story is only so long and there is no amount of provoking and nudging that will make it longer. That’s why I have stories that span a large variety of sizes. The same goes for steam, sometimes the characters don’t want to do anything more then hold hands, other times they are tugging at each others clothes even if you don’t want them to. It’s really all about letting the story itself dictate pace, length and steam.

Nearly every author has their own opinion on that and their reasons - always interesting. Beyond your own writing hangups, what are the hardest scenes to write for you? I have two that really make me squirm, dialogue and violence. The dialogue it always takes me a while to get into especially if there is a lot that one of the characters has to tell. Whilst with violence, its all about setting the scene up and then using what is around and remembering that it is there, in my upcoming story Touch of Silver I have a fight scene that takes place in the middle of the desert. It’s between the two werewolves so in preparation of writing that scene I sat and watched numerous nature programs that had various big dogs and cats at play watching how they held their opponent and sometimes pray.

That's a new one. Usually most romance writers aren't thinking violence. You've got me intrigued. How close in real life have you gotten to one of your fantasies? 3,167 miles

Wow, such an exact distance. LOL.

Well, I guess we've run out of time. I could ask a lot more but what would you want other writers and your readers to know about you? I’m very ecceltic in my writing – just look at my other pen-names in my journals (My main journal is: from there you can find links to my others) and you’ll see. So don’t ever expect one ebook from me to be the same as the next! I’ve been writing since early 2007 since I learned to write in 2006 (I got amnesia in 2005 and promptly forgot everything so had to be totally re-taught) I guess that is the most interesting thing about me. Well there are lots more, but you would have to ask the right questions to get those *wink*

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

My next ebook Touch of Silver will be released with Phaze in April it’s a delicious werewolf story with f/f and m/f scenes. Here is the blurb for it:

When Tammy arrives in town to find everywhere but a single bar closed and shuttered as if in preparation for a storm her curiosity is aroused. Little does she realise exactly what kind of storm is approaching, as she is swept up into a world apart from her own. A world of excitement and danger, one that she could never have believed existed. One that will herald many changes, and not merely for her as she experiences the touch of silver.

That sounds really good. I wish you the best of luck with your release and hope to see a lot more from you.
Thanks for letting me interview you!!!!

Interview with one of the Queens of BDSM, Lissa Matthews

Lissa's one of our authors here at Romance Writers Behaving Badly and I was interested to learn so much about her -- supposedly she loves all things BDSM. Hmmm... wonder what her house looks like. She's not just fascinated by BDSM but is also into fetishes (my kind of woman... hmmm. maybe I should have asked her about that one episode of Bones with the riders and ponies. Ahem, back to business...)

Before getting into the nitty gritty details, you have to check out her very purple and very hawt website, . If you read to the end, you'll even find she's given us a bit of a surprise to start your week.

So let's get started.

Lissa, it's good to see a contemp/paranormal author who really gets into her work. And I love the little surprise  you pulled together for our readers. Now, since your stories are all about kink, I've gotta ask, what’s the kinkiest, sexiest thing you’ve ever done:

Well, there was the… and then there was the… and I can’t forget that time that…

LOL. Sounds like a biography would be a great sell for you. Just how bad do you get with your writing, are we talking just suggestion or down right bondage? Downright BAD

Hmmmm... we'll have to get back to that one. I wanna know more. But besides the downright kinky, what’s the best thing you’ve ever written? The best line? Some of the personal accounts I’ve written that haven’t been for public consumption are the best things because they are so honest.

Interesting, if you can make real life good, your fiction must be even better.

Talking about real life, if you could have any movie star take on a role as one of your heroes, who would it be? I have no idea. I don’t model my heros or heroines from Hollywood.

Keepin' it real then. I like that. Except for that new secret fantasy I have of TJ Thyne. Sigh....

TJ is kind of short... for you does size count… I mean, 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? I want the pages on fire steamy. And I am learning to like them… longer, thicker.

Longer and thicker hmmm... sometimes that's the hardest part of writing a story - getting the length right but what are the hardest scenes for you to write? Oddly enough, the sex.

I'm finding that to be true too. Some people write from experience. But how close in real life have you gotten to one of your fantasies? Ummm, yeah, I plead the 5th. LOL. Nearly everything I’ve written, I’ve done.

The sex scenes should be a piece of cake for you then :> 

Back on track... What would you want other writers and your readers to know about you? I drink way too much coffee, I love what I do, I hate waiting, and I’ll write anyone into a book *grins*

And finally anything you would like to share with us, an excerpt, a tidbit, or anything else about yourself? Oh, I’m always happy to share an excerpt. Since I mentioned Simple Need earlier, I’ll give you a naughty little taste of it.

Simple Need excerpt:

She was on him in a second. The force of her launching herself at him pressed him back against the wall of the building as she pulled his mouth down to hers. Maybe she wasn’t as buttoned down as he’d first thought.

Her kiss was hungry and desperate. He hated that she’d been driven to need what he could give, but at the same time, he’d give it all and then some, grateful that he had what she needed. He was suddenly very glad that he’d stopped at the bar on his way home.

His arms wrapped around her and he turned them, reversing their positions. With a groan, he tore away from her mouth only to trail kisses along her jaw. “Put your legs around me.”

“No, I can’t. I’m too heavy. You can’t hold me up.”

He nipped at her neck and tugged on the skin with his lips, wanting to soothe the anxious edge in her voice. “My build is deceptive. I may be slim, but I’m strong enough. Trust me, I can do it. I’ll help you.” And to show her he meant it, he reached down and wrapped one hand around the back of her knee and lifted her leg up around his thigh. He pressed into her harder. “Lift your other leg, baby. I’ve got you, I swear.”

Her hands slid up his arms and her fingers gripped his shoulders as she lifted her foot off the ground. He shifted slightly and caught both her legs in his hands as he moved her up the wall with his body. She was heavy against him, but god, it was a glorious heavy and he fucking loved it. Her soft body and full curves welcomed him into the plushness and his cock strained against the zipper of his jeans where the heat from the juncture of her thighs teased him.

“Shit, woman. You’ve got to be the sexiest…” His lips captured hers again before he finished his statement. Tongue met tongue, breath mingled with breath, and as her hands slid up over his head, his fingers flexed around her thighs and ass, wanting her naked. She rocked against him and he shoved himself against her, the fucking through their clothes a frustrating and delicious friction. Could she feel the ridges of his cock piercings through the double layer of denim separating their flesh from one another? He sure as hell could. He felt them rubbing the inside of his jeans. What would she think, how would she react to seeing the metal along the shaft and through the head? He wondered these things and a lot more in the space of a few seconds and then stopped wondering altogether.

Forcing an end to the kiss, Vinter looked into her face, his hips still pumping against her. She tightened around him and gasped air into her lungs with her lower body bearing down. She was going to come. He could see it in her face, feel it in the tensing of her muscles. The street lamps, the parking lot lights showed everything in her expression.


It was a whisper as he surged up hard. It was a whimper as he ground into her.

He was going to have her this way back at his place with the exception that they’d both be naked. He was going to hoist her up against the door, the wall, set her on the kitchen counter, anchor her on the back of the couch, and fuck her. There wasn’t going to be a single surface left untouched in his house when he got through with her.

Then, after a little recovery, he was going to start all over again. Outside. On the porch, on the hood of his car, in the grass.

She moaned and he strained not to come in his jeans, but when she stiffened first, and then bucked and shuddered in his arms, he lost it. His cock pumped semen against the denim but he had no complaints. Fucking her like that had been hot, erotic and one of the damn sexiest things in his life.

When he thought he could talk and make some sense, he gave it a shot. “C’mon, let’s go. There’s so much more I want to do to you that doesn’t involve the wall outside my bar.”

“Um, yeah, okay. Let me just make sure I’ve got my AmEx card. I wasn’t planning on this tonight.”

Her voice was still breathless, soft, a little gravelly and sexy as hell, but her thoughts were calm, rational. He wanted her to let go of that control. He needed to help her let it go. “Why do you need it?”

“For the room.”

“Room? Hotel room?” She nodded. Oh hell no. “We’re not going to a hotel. We’re going to my place.”

“Oh. No. No, a hotel is a better idea.”

His lips trailed kisses along her jaw, his cock was still throbbing in his wet jeans, and she wanted a cold bed in a room with cold walls? “Wrong. My bed is a better idea. It’s the best fucking idea.”

She sighed and he steeled himself against the rejection she was about to deliver. He wasn’t going to back down on this, though. They needed time to explore this hotness, this insane hunger he was feeling inside. And that wasn’t something they could do in a hotel room. Besides, she couldn’t scream in a hotel room and he wanted her screaming his name.

“Vinter, this isn’t going to work. I just wanted…”

“To not be noticed, to be anonymous, to try and understand why you let him use you, even though you didn’t know he was doing it at the time. You wanted a drink. You wanted to forget. You wanted something different because the normal things aren’t taking care of you like you need. Yeah, baby girl, I know. Trust me, okay? By morning you won’t remember his name and you won’t want to forget mine.”He lowered her legs to the ground and held on to her until he was sure she could stand on her own. He wasn’t even sure that he could, but where there was a will, there was a way and he had a will to get her naked and in bed and have his way with her.

“Your place is too personal. It…”

“It’s just what you need. You need personal. A lot of personal.” He bent his head and tugged at her bottom lip with his teeth. “C’mon. You know you wanna…” After tweaking one of her nipples through her shirt, he turned and disappeared around the side of the building where he’d parked his car. When she walked around the corner, he was leaning against the trunk as though he had all the time in the world, as though he wasn’t wearing a pair of jeans with a load of come in them. For a few minutes, he allowed himself the doubt that she’d follow him, but he’d seen it in her eyes that her lust would win out. Part of her might believe she didn’t want or need this, but that was a small part compared to the part of her that craved getting naughty with him.

Saturday, April 24, 2010

Sinful Saturday: Banned Books

Some of the most sinful items across the world are what I wheel and deal in everyday: books. Throughout history there has always been a prejudice towards books that share knowledge either disapproved of by the church or kept away for the greater good of the people. Most of these banned books are some of my favorites. Here are just a few of my favorites from the erotic genre:
There are a variety of reasons for book banning, but one of the most common reasons seems to be because it is obscene or "offensive to morality or decency; indecent; depraved: obscene language",
"causing uncontrolled sexual desire","abominable; disgusting; repulsive". Given that reaction do you think books should be banned like this or treated as free speech? Do you agree with the banning?

Friday, April 23, 2010

Flirting With Proverbs on FLirty Friday!

I said dirt bike, not flirt bike!

THE WRITTEN WORD . . . Flirting With Proverbs

Did you know that the invention of writing was first achieved by the Sumerians of Mesopotamia somewhat before 3000 BC and by Mexican Indians before 600 BC? Egyptian writing began about 3000 BC and Chinese writing by 1300 BC.

And what about in the New World? Scientists have now uncovered evidence of what is believed to be the earliest form of writing ever found in the New World. The discovery was based on glyphs carved on a cylindrical seal used to make imprints and on greenstone plaque fragments found near La Venta in Tabasco, Mexico. The writings were produced during the Olmec era, a pre-Mayan civilization, and are estimated to date from 650 B.C.

Fascinating stuff, writing. Writers angst over it, study it, FLIRT with it, and strive hard to construct sentences that when strung together will produce the next best seller. Writing comes to us in a thousand venues, novels, essays, magazine articles, billboards, and even eulogies.

One of my favorites is proverbs. Yes, I’m a proverbs nut. So few words and so much meaning. Today, I leave you with a few of my International favorites to ponder. With some, their meaning is clear, others you might have to think about for a minute. I hope you enjoy them as much as I do.

Pray that you will never have to bear all that you are able to endure.
Jewish Proverb

If a man is destined to drown, he will drown even in a spoonful of water.
Yiddish Proverb

When the sky falls we’ll catch larks.
Irish Proverb

A lie travels round the world while truth is putting her boots on.
French Proverb

Write kindness in marble and write injuries in the dust.
Persian Proverb

However long the night, the dawn will break.
African Proverb

Keta Diablo writes for Phaze, Amber Quill Press, Ravenous Romance and Noble Romance. You can find her on the web at Author Home, and (Author Blog)

New Releases for April and May,

Holding On To Heaven, (Available now) an erotic romance/historical, AMAZON KINDLE

The Devil’s Heel, (Available now), Gay Fiction, NOBLE ROMANCE

Hot and Sticky, (Available May 10), Gay Fiction, AMBER QUILL PRESS

Crossroads: Shadowland, (Available May 17), Gay Fiction and the 4th book in the best-selling CROSSROADS series, PHAZE PUBLISHING

Thursday, April 22, 2010

My suitcase is loaded with my 13 favorite books

In honor of the Romantic Times convention, for which I leave on Tuesday:

The 13 books I will be getting signed at RT.

Watch out. I'll probably in crazy stalker mode, lol. And what about you? Who are some of your favorite authors and which of their books would you wait in long lines to get signed?

Tuesday, April 20, 2010



I was planning on writing my first post on this blog about my newest eBook, but things have occurred and it’s meant that the release date won’t be for a while. Instead I’m going to write about time.
Not a really interesting subject you might think but it’s something that each of us is controlled by even if we fight it as much as we can.

There is never enough time for us to do the things we want. Not enough time to go to the places we want – yet perversely time is the one thing that seems to drag on when we are given something we don’t want to do. We use time as an excuse but how many of us actually take the time to think, to just sit and breath or to fantasise (after all it is something we all do even if some do it more than others)?

As a writer I get told by people often they would write but can never find the time, and I know how precious those few minutes can be if they are all the free time you have in the day. Really we all need to make the most of the time we have and live it to the full – no regrets.

So if there was one thing you have always wanted to do but have ‘never had the time’ try and make yourself the time and see where things go. And whilst we're all at it, let's find some more time to read many more fabulous books!

Oh and do tell! - What is the one thing you've always wanted to do but haven't had the time?

Series... gotta love 'em!

I absolutely love both writing and reading series. As a reader, I love getting to visit characters again. It's fun to see them live out their happily ever after, even if its only in a few scenes. If a book is powerful enough, I feel like the characters I read have become friends. Who doesn't like to check in with their friends every now and again, right? That's how I feel about series anyway.

As an author... well I guess my reasoning is the same. I love writing little bits and pieces of their lives after the I Love You, and they lived happily ever after :) There's something about it, about writing them that little extra story, about seeing them interact with the characters again that I just can't seem to get enough of. Both of my current releases, Satisfy Me and Bliss are both part of the Malone Brothers series and my upcoming release, Wild, is part of a new series I started.

I think I enjoy it more and more each time.

Do you like reading or writing a series? What are some of your favorite series you've read?

Monday, April 19, 2010

Manic Monday

"It's just another manic Monday
I wish it was Sunday
'Cause that's my funday
My I don't have to runday
It's just another manic Monday"
- Lyrics originally written by Prince (1986)

The word manic comes from the Greek word manikos, which means "mad" or "from madness". Makes me think of the lyrics to It's a Mad, Mad World. Hmmm....

I like another definition of Manic: an excessively intense enthusiasm, interest, or desire; a craze.

I like Mondays because the kids are back in school and I have time to write again. I get all giddy with excitement and intense enthusiasm.

I don't like Mondays because the kids are back in school and I find that I really don't have time to write. It drives me MAD.

Manic Monday.

I simply want to strip off my clothes, crawl back under the sheets and feel a hand slide over my hips, fingertips brushing my skin. A firm grasp pulling me closer. Fingertips traveling through the valley between my breasts followed by stokes of a tongue. Hmm... to feel a seductive heat spread across my body. I want feel a warm breath caress my neck as lips seek my mouth; a hard body pressing against mine with promise of taking me to delirious heights.

*sigh* But... I have deadlines due, phone calls to make and cub scout meeting to prepare for.

Manic Monday.

Feel free to visit Mary Quast's website and her blog Romantic Interludes.

Sunday, April 18, 2010

Sultry Sunday- Heating up the weekend

The moment has can feel the anticipation...your bodies have become one.

He needed more.

With her legs wrapped around his waist,he pushed up on his hands to take some weight off her.

They were moving in unison. A perfect rhythm. A perfect fit.

“You’re going to make me come,” she cried out and clutched his buttocks and pushed him deeper into her.

He didn’t need anymore prodding when she exclaimed her upcoming release. Putting his body weight onto one arm, he reached down to tantalize her button. Within seconds she yelled out the most pleasurable cry of sexual liberation. Hearing her shout his name just as she came provoked him to follow suit.

His release was fast and furious. His body shuddered as he unloaded inside her and from deep within his soul an animal like growl erupted.

They were one

Saturday, April 17, 2010

Sinful Saturday

There's something so wicked and sinful about those historic rogues: ruff and tumble Lord, a dashing Duke, or who can forget those sexy Highlanders. But take a Duke with an axe to grind and a sexy woman worth her weight in gold, willing to risk it all, and you've got sizzling hot tension and romance.

Such is the tale of Jennifer Haymore's new story Touch of Scandal from Grand Central Publishing. Check it out below:

The last thing Garrett, Duke of Calton, expects to find while tracking his sworn enemy is the delectable, mysterious Kate. This beautiful servant girl rouses a longing the battle-scarred ex-soldier had never hoped to feel again. But when she turns out to be the sister of the man he seeks, he’s convinced he’s been betrayed.

Kate knows her duty to her family, yet how can she ignore Garrett’s powerful pull on her heart? Or the heady temptation of his stolen-and sizzling-kisses? Scandal has followed the duke since the war. Now the greatest shock of all is on its way-the one that can separate Garrett and Kate forever.

Layers of clouds drifted across the horizon and the dipping sun lowered behind them, infusing them with red, oranges, pinks, and purples, and sending streams of color out over the pond he’d used as his bathing spot for the past week.

Garrett reapplied the pressure round her waist. “Who are you?” Even to himself, he sounded menacing as hell. He clenched his free hand, prepared to clamp it over her mouth should she attempt to scream for help from her accomplices. “Why are you here?”

She glanced over her shoulder at him, sparks lighting her dark eyes. Her lips twisted into a rueful expression. “Must I answer that?”

“You must.”

“Can I…?” Her chest rose beneath his forearm as she took a deep breath. “Might I look at you while I do so? I daresay this is a rather awkward means of conversing with a person one hasn’t properly met.”

He considered for a moment. “Very well. But I’m not letting you go.”

“Of course.” Slowly, she turned within the circle of his loosened arm until she pressed against him from chest to groin. She tilted her head to look up at him. “That’s better.”

Theoretically she should complain that this was still an awkward way to converse with someone who wasn’t even an acquaintance, but Garrett didn’t point out the inconsistency. He was somewhat more concerned with stifling his body’s reaction to her. As if he were a long-dormant volcano flaring to life, blood boiled in his veins, and his skin heated from the inside out.

He took a deep breath, trying to calm his raging blood. It made no sense. Few women had this effect on him. The two who instantly came to mind possessed elegance and beauty in spades, while this woman didn’t possess either of those attributes. Katherine was brown and drab, with pale lips, coffee-colored eyes that seemed too big for her face, and shoots of dark hair poking out haphazardly from her cap. Her body was tall and thin—too tall and too thin, perhaps—and her dress plain. All in all, her outward appearance reminded him of England in the dead of winter. Dry and somber. Lifeless.

And yet…she was alive. Somehow beneath all that dullness, she sparkled. She was radiant. He couldn’t tear his eyes from her face. From those luminous eyes. Her glow must be infectious, because in such close proximity to her, something he’d thought dead deep inside him sprang to life.


Her voice trailed off, and he lifted a brow. “You…what?”

She licked her lips. “This is embarrassing, sir. I’d really rather not tell you.”

“Embarrassing?” He didn’t understand. Either she was spying on him with the intention of relaying his activities and whereabouts to his enemies, or… He couldn’t think of an “or.” There was simply no other reason for the woman to be alone in this lonely, abandoned place.

“Well…yes. Quite embarrassing.”

When he didn’t respond, pink tinted her pale cheeks.

“Perhaps we could just shake hands and I’ll continue on my way?” She bit her lower lip in anticipation and gazed at him from beneath her lashes.

Garrett stiffened. It wouldn’t be so easy to manipulate him. Once, maybe, but not anymore. “I don’t think so.”

She released her breath in a whoosh. “Oh.”

He tightened his arm around her, wedging her against his body. A pretty rose color suffused her cheeks, and she’d plastered her arms to her sides as if she were afraid to touch him—or didn’t know how—and he considered the possibility that she’d never been this close to a man.

He ground his teeth. “Tell me.”

“I…I was watching you,” she breathed.

“I know that much,” he bit out. “Why? Don’t lie to me.”


He held her close, every muscle in his body braced to hear his enemy’s name. William Fisk. The man who had made his life a living hell for the past eight years.

“Because…well, because you’re quite interesting,” she finally said. “And…” Again, she began to tremble.

“And?” he growled.

The column of her pale throat moved as she swallowed hard. “And…you’re…you’re so beautiful.”

Her flush deepened. Garrett stared at her with narrowed eyes, searching for signs of guile. He found none in the wide brown eyes that gazed up at him, nor in the flush that now bordered on crimson, but God knew he was no expert at discerning treachery and deceit.

She must be lying. He was damn ugly, inside and out. Ruined by the violence of war and betrayal and heartbreak, and of too many years of living a lie.

She studied him with her eyes that widened minutely as she interpreted his expression. “No. No, you’re wrong,” she whispered with absolute conviction.

“What are you talking about?” he snapped.

“You think I’m playing you false, but I’m not. I am very bad at telling lies. I’ve abandoned lying altogether, for I’m discovered every time.”

He shifted his stance. His instincts told him she was innocent of treachery, but his instincts were invariably wrong in such matters. And yet, he couldn’t ignore them. Was he playing the fool yet again?

“Please forgive me. It was horrid of me to invade your privacy.”


“But you see, this is my pool.”

He raised a brow. “Is that so?”

She nodded. “I come here often.” She gestured with her chin in the direction of the castle ruins. “People often visit the castle to explore and have picnics and such, but they never come out this far, and the pool is rather secret, hidden as it is. I never encountered another soul here until I saw you.”

He believed her, despite himself. Against his will, his anger faded and his muscles relaxed. “When was that?”

She hesitated, then answered, “Eight days ago.”

He’d arrived at Kenilworth eight days ago. He’d set up camp in an abandoned, ruined cottage near the castle, and he’d found the pool during his exploration of the area. It had been a fine, summery day, and the cold, clean water had lured him. He’d stripped off his clothes and dived in to wash the grime of travel from his body. He’d returned often since.

“And how many times have you spied on me?”

She broke her gaze from his eyes and dropped her chin to stare at his chest. “Four times. I… ” Her voice dwindled.

He reached up to press his palm against her cheek, forcing her to look up at him. She blinked, and for the first time, he saw that her lashes were long, thick, and dark, gracefully framing her vibrant eyes.

He trusted her. He might regret it later, and he thought that likely, but he couldn’t continue to intimidate a woman he innately trusted. But he didn’t let her go. Not yet.

“What is your name?” Katherine asked softly.

He sucked in a breath. Best not to get too specific. “Garrett.”

“It’s good to meet you, Mr. Garrett.”

“No. Just Garrett.”

She nodded. “Where are you from, Mr…uhm…Garrett?”

He shook his head slightly. “Where are you from?”

“Kenilworth,” she answered readily enough, but her lips twitched. “Well, I suppose you’ll insist upon being mysterious.” She nearly scowled at him as she studied him. “You almost have a London gentleman’s accent…but not quite. There’s a touch of something else there, something I’ve never heard. Something foreign.” She shrugged. “Which means that until you inform me otherwise, I shall be forced to stand by my first theory of your origin.”

“What was that theory?”

“I concluded you must be from Olympus.”

He choked on a laugh. “Olympus? Why?”

She groaned, and the flush bloomed over her cheeks again. “My mama is right. I’m a silly chit who shouldn’t speak at all.”

“I like the way you speak.” The words flowed out of him before he could check them, and he snapped his mouth shut.

Her lips spread into a wide smile. It lit up her face, infused her lips with color, and made her eyes sparkle and dance with mischief. Holy hell—she was beautiful. Incredibly, devastatingly so. She stole the breath from his lungs. Stunned, he dropped his arm, freeing her.

She stepped back, still smiling. “Well, I have the unfortunate quality of being too blunt, I’m told. But I see you and I suffer from the same malaise.”

She hadn’t turned and sprinted. In fact, she seemed to have no plans—or desire—to escape from him.

“What malaise is that?” he asked stupidly. He couldn’t get enough air. His brains had turned to porridge.

“You didn’t intend to compliment me about the way I speak. The words escaped your mouth before you could stop them. It happens to me, too. Incessantly.”

He answered that with a wry smile of his own. “It seldom happens to me. Perhaps your condition is contagious.”

“Perhaps it is. Perhaps you should run away from me. I could be detrimental to your health.”

It felt so odd, so foreign, to smile. The realization was enough to flatten his lips.

Her smile faded too. “What’s wrong?”

He paused, studying her. Why not speak the truth? If she was honest, she’d understand. If she was up to something, it would serve as a warning. “I cannot be certain you’re to be trusted.”

“Oh.” She cocked her head, and her eyebrows squeezed together. “Is that why you’re alone out here? Because you don’t trust anyone?”

His jaw tightened. “Something like that.”

“Sometimes it can be difficult to trust others, but I do believe most people are good. Though goodness can be near impossible to detect sometimes. Don’t you think so?”

Once he might have agreed with her, but now… “I don’t know.”

She looked down, kicked at the dirt with her mud-caked shoes, then looked back up at him with shining eyes. She opened her mouth to speak, but as if she thought better of it, she clamped her lips. Her tongue darted out to lick them.

“What is it?” His voice was a gruff whisper. He couldn’t tear his eyes from her lips. Plump. Enticing.

“Who betrayed you so terribly that you cannot trust a simple countrywoman?”

Her voice was soft, sympathetic, and nearly compelling enough for him to respond with the truth. He nipped the compulsion in the bud, quickly taking a different tack. “How old are you, Katherine?”

“Will you call me Kate?”


“Thank you.”

He liked the sound of her name, so he said it again. “How old are you, Kate?”

“Two and twenty. How old are you?”

She wasn’t as young as he’d thought. Still, she was far too young for him. Too sweet for him. Too innocent. Too…different. He had no intention of selecting a bed partner any time soon, but when he did, he’d make certain the woman was experienced. And as jaded and cold as himself.

“Far older than you,” he said quietly.

She smiled again, and his blood surged. God. Tamping down his lust, he pushed his hand through his wet, tangled hair. He resisted the urge to command her to stop smiling.

“How old?” she demanded.


She released a breath through tight lips. “Pfft. Hardly too old to befriend someone such as me.”

“Befriend?” he asked with a raised brow.

The suggestion in his tone escaped her. “I don’t have many friends.” She clasped her hands together in front of her brown skirt. “But I believe I should like to be a friend of yours.”

“You’re too trusting,” he said in a low voice. If he were any other man, her virtue would be in peril. Hell, her virtue was in peril.

“Am I?” She studied him, her eyes seeming to dive into his soul. Surely if they could do that, she would see the blackness residing there, and she’d flee for her life.


Slowly, she shook her head. “No, I don’t think so. You won’t hurt me.”

His lips twisted. “You think not?”

“I know it,” she said in a low voice.

“You are too naive.”

Her eyes darkened at that, and they flickered away. “You’re wrong about that.”

He clenched his hands into fists, stifling the protective instinct that overcame him at her words. He wanted to demand to know who’d caused that shadow to pass over her face, and then he wanted to go beat the hell out of that person.

It had been a long time since he’d felt much of anything. Surely these sudden, strange emotions weren’t natural, nor were they logical. Garrett felt as if he was awakening from a months’-long slumber and was struggling to reassimilate into the world of the living.

She had done this to him. As they spoke, she brought him to life. How was it possible?

He pushed out a measured breath, reined himself in, and tried to conjure the response of a gentleman from his fractured memories.

“You don’t understand,” he said as gently as he could. “You cannot sneak up on a man, watch him bathe, speak to him the way you’ve spoken to me…”

“I wouldn’t,” she said. “I wouldn’t sneak up on any man, nor would I speak to him the way I’ve spoken to you. I’m not stupid.”

“I could be dishonest. I could be a criminal, a murderer.” He said the words through clenched teeth as a shudder of revulsion slithered down his spine. “A rapist.”

“But you’re none of those things.” A frown line appeared between her eyes as she gazed at him. “Are you?”

“I could be.”

“You aren’t.”

The thought of this guileless woman stepping into the path of some predator made him want to grab her and shelter her. He might possess some honor, but not many men would resist this kind of temptation. Out at twilight beside an abandoned pool, a beautiful woman blatantly flirting with him . . .

He ground his teeth. “How can you know?”

“At first . . . I wasn’t sure. Or maybe I was. I think maybe I always knew, deep inside. But now, after having spoken to you—” she shrugged, “—I just know.”

“You shouldn’t be out here alone, ever. It could be dangerous.”

“I’ve come out here alone for my entire life, and I’ve never been in any sort of danger whatsoever. Not once.” She tilted her head at the pool shimmering silver-orange in the decreasing twilight. “This is my private place. My thinking place.”

He swallowed, imagining her stripped bare, swimming in the pond. Imagining swimming with her, touching her, making her shudder in his arms…

Damn. He rubbed his temple to expel the images. Those thoughts were wrong. Depraved. Hell, the ink wasn’t even dry on his divorce and he was already debauching a maiden in his dark fantasies.

“I apologize,” he said tightly. “I didn’t mean to intrude.”

“I’m glad you did.” She shifted from foot to foot. “As I said, I think you’re very . . . interesting.”

“You should stay away from me.” He took a step closer to her, close enough to feel the sweet heat cascading from her body. She smelled of cinnamon and pine.

She stood her ground. “I don’t fear you.”

“I’m dangerous.”

“Perhaps,” she breathed. “But not to me.”

“Associating with me will only bring you pain.”

“How can you say such an awful thing?”

“I have that effect on people.”

She reached out and brazenly placed her hand flat on his chest, scorching him through the thin linen of his shirt. “So be it. But no matter how much pain associating with you might bring me…” Her words dwindled as he pressed his palm over her hand.

She stared at his hand engulfing hers on his chest. Raising his other hand, he touched one finger to the soft skin beneath her chin and pressed upward.

“Tell me what you were going to say.”

Her eyes shone, and she blinked. “I’ll never regret it.”

Bending his head, he touched his lips to hers.


Friday, April 16, 2010

Finding The First Crack By Carol Storm

To me, the most exciting moment in erotic fiction is not the big explosion in the middle or the torrent of passion at the end. It’s the first crack at the beginning – the special moment when the heroine lets her guard down just enough to let the hero know she’s not a perfectly sculpted ice princess after all. And it’s the same moment that the tall, strong, iron-clad hero reveals his first glimmer of inner warmth as well.

How does the heroine let down her guard? Maybe she admits she was wrong about the hero – like after they’ve encountered the real villain for the first time. But usually it’s not with words, just a gesture. Her body language shifts just a little, from confrontation to acceptance. And the hero picks up on that and provides firm but subtle male reassurance.

Let’s try this out using a typical scene from a hot genre:


“I didn’t know Fangs was a vampire club,” Polly stammered. As they staggered out into the alley, Mike Bitewell threw his brawny arm over her shoulders, and for a moment she relaxed, leaning into his male strength.

“I used to be one of those guys,” he told her, his voice gruff.

Notice how the heroine is the one who appears vulnerable, yet the hero feels the need to confide in her. He’s protecting her with his greater strength and knowledge, yet when she signals trust he responds by revealing a weakness of his own. A good first crack leads to hotter fireworks every time!


CAROL STORM'S latest release is GLORY AND THE CLEVER CAT, available now at Noble Romance. Come and visit Carol at her blog, THE STORM REPORT.

Thursday, April 15, 2010

13 MORE Crazy-assed Texts from Last Night

13 MORE Crazy-assed Texts from Last Night

Note: I did my first “13 Crazy-assed Texts from Last Night” for my Thursday Thirteen on my own blog today, so I decided to continue it on our RWBB blog. If you want to see the first post it is here:

I laugh my ass off every time I visit this site Sometimes I laugh so hard that I cry. People submit texts that they received to this website. I’ve decided (with tissues in hand) to go through and pick out some good ones to share for my Thursday Thirteen. I hope you “appreciate” them as much as I do.

By the way, the number is parenthesis before the text is the area code from where it was submitted. And on one last note, I have not altered any of these, so the misspellings and grammar issues, etc., are all the fault of the texters!

1. (562): omg, he ripped it...he ripped my night. ever.

2. (505): Thank you for holding my vodka while the police let me ride their horse.

3. (843): I had my own version of the Hangover last night. I woke up to a disassembled Christmas tree, shit on the futon, and a hamster in the bathroom with a necklace on that said "Feed Me Bitch." I don't own a hamster. I don't know what I drank last night, but I want to do it again.

4. (219): Dude, I just saw a bird vs. squirrel fight. A car won.

5. (812): The sex was so good, I called my ex during the 2nd time just so he could hear. Is that mean?

6. (540): so i woke up. still drunk and discovered my roommate in the living room passed out dick-in-hand watching porn.
(1-540):What did u do?
(540): turned the porn up and opened the windows so everybody goin to class could see him.

7. (520): just friend requested my arresting officer from last night. too soon??

8. (734): So he said if we had sex he'd take me to Build A Bear. My virginity is so worth a trip to build a bear.
(810) You’re 20.

9. (949): while fucking on the counter the whip cream was conveniently right next to us. i love thanksgiving

10. (641): Last night I got a napkin with 4 names & numbers: Katie, Ellen, Kylie...and Brandon.

11. (404): you made your cat watch a peta video with you, so you could show it how just how good its life is

12. (404): What part of "waking up in the crawl space of my house with a raccoon" sounds like a good night to you?

13. (403): I want to poop on a bird, just to show them what it's like.

These are a few I found entertaining, but there are many, many more. Have you ever gotten an unbelievable text? If so, share!

Here's a special announcement from a fellow Romance Writer who Behaves Badly:
"Today at Long And Short Reviews, Noble and Phaze books romance author Carol Storm is giving away a FREE story, LADY BELLASTON'S LOVER. DON'T MISS IT!!"