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?

Time

Time

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?

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.

Sultry Sunday- Heating up the weekend

The moment has come...you 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

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.

Excerpt
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.

“I…”

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.”

“Because…”

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.”

“Yes.”

“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?”

“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.

“Thirty-four.”

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.

“Yes.”

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.


 

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:

CAROL STORM’S UNTITLED URBAN FANTASY

“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.

www.carol63storm.blogspot.com

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: http://jeannestjames.blogspot.com

I laugh my ass off every time I visit this site http://www.textsfromlastnight.com/. 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 vagina...best. 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.
(734) IT'S BUILD A BEAR!

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!!" www.longandshortreviews.com

Humpday Help - Chocolate

Monday began like any normal Monday after Spring Break...and yet I survived.
After taking hubby to the airport, I was on my way to the Cub Scout Shop when I ran over a mysterious thumping thing. Once in the Scout Shop parking lot, my 4 yr old and I watched as my poor tire hissed a final hiss then lay flat on the pavement. I went to pop open the trunk to retrieve the spare, but due to the declining age of this "classic" vehicle the trunk was stuck in the closed position.

After a sigh then a laugh, I called a wrecker. Mr. Wrecker came to my aid and saved the day. (No, he wasn't a hottie... just a normal Joe.) I've learned to keep a sense of humor and look at life as an adventure. But ... the truth is... I have a stash of chocolate! Chocolate makes everything better.

Yep... the good stuff.


Bittersweet (50% cocoa) - for unlimited consumption after long days at work, enduring a child's temper tantrum at the market, and calmly handling any roadside emergency.

Dark (35% cocoa) - at least on bar after successfully managing a 4 yr old,an antsy tween, a demanding teen, and a phone call at the same time; completing dinnertime, bath-time, story-time, and bedtime before 10:00pm.

Now that it's Wednesday... aka Humpday... the week has not improved with the exception of a new guinea pig for the youngest child. If anyone is looking for me, I'll be wallowing in chocolate. Oh... pass a glass of wine, please.

Exploring Sensuality with Food

It's really hard to write when I like to eat, food is sensual, and I happen to be on a diet. Right now all I can think of is ice cream, chocolate, and cake. What I can eat borders along the line of fruit--at best. How am I supposed to make fruit as sexy as the slide of ice cream with syrup and whipped cream or chocolate squares with peanut butter melting on my tongue? I had to delve into yummy, simple ways to make fruit that are just as satisfying after a good roll in the hay. This is what I came up with:


Bananas Foster

Grilled Chocolate Banana’s

California White Cheddar and Apples

Fruit Nachos

Cherries Jubilee

Mango Melon Soup

Pear Ginger Sorbet

Mexican Pineapple Water

Fresh Strawberry Granita

Amaretto Strawberries

Watermelon in Rose Lime Syrup

Those are some of my favorite sinful treats that are much better for you--and more alluring, than a cake or cookie. Sex is exercise and is certainly good for the waistline. Why not keep that good thing going by reaching for something sensual that will give you enough energy for round two?

Erotica~ Old West Style

I just finished the second book in  my series, The Bounty Hunters: 5 Card Stud.   The tough hombre` at the left is the image in my mind I have of Snake McCallister, bounty hunter and all around Texas bad-ass.

Sometimes readers shy away from western romance, thinking perhaps there's nothing erotic or sexy about the Old West.

Hah! Talk about a world of chauvinist males where female submission was supposedly a way of life.   I think history recorded the male version. I like to take that myth, and play the what if game.

What if a woman wasn't submissive?  What if she had real sexual needs, with no one to satisfy her body's cravings? Would her otherwise strong will, bend to that of a man who gave her the release she yearned for?

Or would that man find himself so driven by the lust that consumes him, that his normal control and common sense might fall victim to her will?

Eden Pace, meet Samuel McCallister. He's a stud on the make, 1880's Texas style.

Blurb: Five Card Stud

Bounty hunter, Sam McCallister only knows two smart women. When he meets Eden Pace, he has to up his count to three. Eden faces him across a poker table and is all set to clean out his pockets. But Sam has a few cards to play she's not expecting.The lady is the prettiest woman and the best card sharp Sam's ever met. She's also wanted for murder and he's got a handbill with her picture on it, just waiting for him to take her in.

Sam's got five cards he carries in his pocket he calls reminders. When Sam meets Eden, he finds himself in a high stakes poker game with his heart on the line, and all five reminders don't help him at all. After he takes the lady gambler into custody, he finds out she has a few tricks of her own. Eden is no shy miss. A widow determined to do her own outlaw hunting, Eden is following the man who killed her husband. She uses seduction to free herself from her bounty hunter captor, only to discover that she's got more trouble chasing her than Sam McCallister. Ansell Black,the most dangerous outlaw in Texas, is hunting her, and it will  take all of Sam's skill to save the woman of his dreams. 

 Adult Excerpt: 5 Card Stud

Sam McCallister had to remind himself that Eden Pace was wanted for murder. He’d given her a chance for explanations and she’d rejected it.  Both things got his full attention. He’d expected tears, maybe pleas for mercy.  She’d thrown him off stride when she unfurled her cards and started her strip tease. 

Eden Pace calculated every move and it pushed Sam to stay ahead of her. It disappointed him in a way yet unexplored, that she bartered for her release with her body.  He wasn’t surprised, but he’d thought her a cut above an easy woman. That he’d been mistaken, seasoned his desire with contempt. He couldn’t help but wonder how often she used sex to smooth the path of her travels.

 Maybe he’d care in the morning, but now, the mystery woman had chosen seduction as her weapon. She’d named the game, offering him a taste of heaven to let her walk away.

“Taste me,” he invited her. He was caught in a web of lust more powerful than any force he’d ever handled before. He didn’t expect it, and was caught by surprise when she sank to her knees between his legs.  Her hair brushed against his thigh, and his cock swelled bigger, jutting toward what it wanted.

“Christ,” he shuddered, already under her spell as she nipped along his inner thigh and moved toward his groin with lips and teeth.  Eden’s face was flushed, her full bottom lip pink against the ruddy cock she tasted.

He didn’t suppress his groan of pleasure when she sipped delicately along his hard length, stopping to swirl her tongue, or trace a thick vein. Then she explored the slit at the end, tasting the pre-cum that seeped there.

She lapped the head with feathery strokes that made him want to jut his hips and thrust deeper into her mouth and down her throat. But he didn’t.  He held onto his control as she licked him like a kitten eating up cream.

God what a mouth she had. She wasn’t shy about taking what she wanted either. Sam had been fucking women since he turned fourteen. He’d tried every position or method of coupling known to man or woman and enjoyed every one of them. As he watched the woman part her lips and take him, he appreciated her skill at the same time he rejected her knowledge. Then he forgot everything but pleasure.

 Nibbling her way down his shaft, she applied lips and tongue in a wet caress.  When she shrugged delicately against his thigh, he widened for her, spreading his legs and shifting to give her more room. He couldn’t suppress the growl he emitted.

Her skin was hot where she leaned against his leg.  He reached down and squeezed her breast as she worked his cock with her lips. The rounded globe was both soft and firm in his grasp. His hand closed tighter, wanting.  He thumbed her rigid nipple and felt her shudder against him as she buried her face between his thighs.

 First the left testicle, then the right enjoyed the soft caress and tantalizing miracle of her mouth.  His nuts were so hard and tight he risked shooting his load right then, but he set his back teeth, gripped the arms of the chair, and let her play.

“Easy sweetheart,” he murmured as her black hair cascaded around her face and she tilted her head for better access.  Eden rolled the hard balls in his sack between her tongue and the roof of her mouth and Sam spread wider, encouraging her.  “Don’t stop, Eden. Use that pretty mouth on me some more.”

God it was an erotic sight watching her work her lips and tongue back up his cock.  Sam loosened the knot that still confined her hair, and when it tumbled free, he stroked the back of her head, savoring the exquisite feel of her worshiping his flesh.  The silken mane hung almost to her hips, cascading in a shimmering mass. He drew it away from her face to better see what she did.

Eden was flushed, her eyes glazed with passion as her lips played along his length, nuzzling his flesh, enjoying him.  Sam didn’t know many women who liked this form of love play, but it was clear Eden was one of the few.

By the time she reached the top, Sam’s control was lost.  “Play times over sweetheart.” When her lips surrounded the head of his cock, he cupped her face and thrust into the warm moist heat of her mouth, withdrawing, and then thrusting again.  “Take more of it,” he ordered her.  She widened her jaw upon demand, and he angled her head to take him deeper. 

 He had intended to have her pussy first, but his cock had other ideas.  “Suck on it,” he guided her effort to take his size.  “Relax your throat and let me in, Eden.” His directions were unnecessary.

She adjusted her position and swallowed his length, throat muscles caressing the sensitive head.  Her hands came up to fondle his balls, as she rested her head against his thigh opening her throat for his thrusts.

Eden made a humming sound, and the clasping muscles vibrated around his pumping cock. Sam lost his control, coming in hot spurts of cream that she drank from him.  He cradled her head as she greedily swallowed his release.

Her tits bumped against Sam’s calf as she milked him with her mouth. Sharp nails raked his thigh to add yet another point of sensation and his hips came off the chair, bucking upward in short jabs that spewed his seed into her. At the last moment, she gripped his hips with her hands, pulling him deeper.

When Eden had drained the last drop of cum from him, Sam sank back and closed his eyes savoring the extraordinary pleasure she’d just given him.

Delicately, she stroked his left thigh with her hand, prolonging the ecstasy as he sucked air into his lungs and fought to regain his hold on sanity. “Hang on a minute Eden and I’ll satisfy you.” 

His head was spinning from the power of the climax. It had knocked him almost senseless for a moment. Sam barely noticed when the silken head left his thigh. She got his attention a moment later, though. When he heard the click of a cocked hammer, he opened his eyes.   

“I’ve found my own release.” Her husky reply mocked him as she stepped into her clothes and pointed the gun at him. 

5 Card Stud~ Coming Soon

Sultry Sunday

“I want to taste you and then have you taste yourself on my lips,” he said when their lips parted. “Okay?”


She nodded because she didn’t trust herself to speak. Her heart fluttered and she felt a twinge between her legs.


He lay down next to her and unrelentingly kissed her with a passion she’d never felt before. He scooped her into his arms and held her tight against his body. She could feel his heart beating alongside her own.


His right hand found its way up her shirt and hastily found her breast. As he fondled it she could hear moans of pleasure escaping his mouth in between their passionate kisses.


Her hands were exploring his upper body through his clothing. She could feel his rippling muscles through his shirt and it sent a wave of excitement through her body. The twinge between her legs was rapidly mounting.


When their lips parting both gasps for their own breathe.


“Damn,” he muttered.

Sinful Saturday: Erotic Jewelry

 (Their not pierced, but their sexy enough for me not to care so much. Good, no?)

Erotic jewelry is not really a staple in erotic romance or erotica. I've been trying to figure out why that is, and the only thing I could come up with was jewelry is ultimately a distraction from the other naughty bits on display. Despite the wide history that body piercing has in increasing sexual arousal, sometimes the vision of a pierced bit acting as the aphrodisiac, it's still a wonder to me that the actual act or inclusion of piercings is still somewhat taboo in a mainstream erotic world. Which brings me to the intriguing history of erotic jewelry in the all the naughty places! Some of my favorite things to ogle and a definite instant turn-on!

Nipple Piercing: A piercing that can lead to a tingling taunt in the bedroom, these were once used a symbol in the Roman Army to show rank and reinforcing their masculinity. It also shifted to a right of passage for British and American sailors who had conquered a vast amount of longitude and latitude. They briefly caught a resurgence of popularity with women the 1890's but it died out until after World War 2.


Navel Piercing: A tantalizing piercing that can both illicit a shiver of response or connect to a more lower piercing in more intimate places, navel piercings weren't used by native tribes nor does it have a long history. It was simply made into a pop culture phenomenon from music videos and fashion icons in the nineties increasing in popularity because of the ease in hiding it under clothing. 

Tongue Piercing: Though used as an alluring accessory in the bedroom with the various vibrating rings that are out on the market, a pierced tongue used to mean a tribute to the gods in Aztec culture. It also symbolized a way to suck evil magic out of someone's body.

Personally, I just think piercings are a fun and alluring way to accessorize. For the most part they are easily taken care of, fun to manipulate (with clean hands), and easy to remove leaving barely a scar. Though not appropriate for most professional atmospheres, most workplaces are embracing the freedom of piercings as they evolve from a simple nose stud to a line down the spine several inches long. But hey, it's all about what gets your rocks off right?

For me piercings have always terrified me, which is why when I get them the adrenaline rush is like no other. It's total turn on for me putting my flesh in someone's hands and hoping it turns out okay. Now, granted, I do a painstaking amount of research before I get pierced, but it is still one the sexiest things to me. I look for those same traits in those I'm attracted to, seeking out lean, tattooed, tall men with piercings and tats knowing that they've gone through the pain I went through--and liked it.

In the coming months I think I'm going to make an effort to put the art of body jewelry back into erotica. I'll let you know how it goes, cool?

Spice it up...Flirty Friday

Every couple needs to keep the spark alive. Switch it out every once in awhile...











Whether it's a gentle kiss on the neck for no reason...












A new sexy negligee in his favorite color...











An outfit that's totally out of character for him...















A special alluring look that she's not expecting...










A night out on the town with a hotel room waiting your arrival...

Thursday 13

My Thirteen Favorite Romantic Movies



1. Some Kind of Wonderful









2. While You Were Sleeping









3. Ghost









4. When Harry Met Sally










5. Gone With the Wind










6. Pretty Woman









7. Legends of the Fall









8. The Notebook











9. Pearl Harbor








10. Sleepless in Seattle










11. Titanic









12. Love Story










13. Pride and Prejudice







So there you have it, my favorite thirteen romantic movies. So what about you? What are some of your favorites?

Shh...It's a Secret

I have a secret.

No one's seen it yet, but eventually it will come out. It won't be noticeable, unless you pay attention and read the books I write.

I've no problem sharing my secret and aside from one other person, you will be the first to hear it.

For reasons that I haven't begun to understand yet, there is always a yellow chair in my books/series. There's nothing special about this chair, it changes every time depending on the characters and situation. It morphs to suit the needs of the character who owns the chair. It's indiscriminate, both males & females own it. A constant is that it is always there and it is always some mustard yellow color that the character can't decide why they like. Usually they don't. However, the chair always means something.

I'd like to take this opportunity to share some of the marked differences:

In a few weeks, my Sci-Fi romance, Midnight's Ghost, will be released with Liquid Silver Books.

The ugly, didn’t-match-anything yellow fabric stitched to the chair’s metal support system had been through a hell of a lot with me and even though Midnight's Star had gone down in flames, I hadn’t been able to let the chair go. Luckily it had been easily salvaged from the wreckage after I recovered from my injuries and the chair was installed on Eidolon after Dad had been killed and the ship was left to me. It still bore the scars of the Midnight's Star crash as I wasn’t about to repair them. They were like badges of honor to me. A display of the life I had once lived, the mistakes I had made because I had been young and impetuous.

While my first release, Flash of Dark, doesn't have such a chair, it's only because the chair in that series wasn't meant for those characters. Instead it is characters the reader will meet in the second book of that series, Blood Fever, due out this summer.

The oddly shaded yellow color of the upholstery did nothing to enhance the woman sitting in the chair, but the bright beams of moonlight set her aglow. Then again the chair would stick out like a sore thumb with any décor. It was ugly and pitiful with its dark curve of antique wood leg. He’d never taken the time to throw it out because it wasn’t a priority. Now he was glad he hadn’t.

And most recently, in the story I just complete the first draft on.

Satisfied with her position, he moved away to lower himself into his favored chair several feet away from her. This room had always been about indulgences and this chair was certainly no exception. That indulgence was why he kept the piece of furniture down here instead of up in his loft. Besides, it didn’t fit his living arrangements upstairs and wasn’t even comfortable – at least for extended periods. The color didn’t even match anything else in the room, aside from the sunny yellow throw pillows of the same shade on the couch across the room.

Is it because I can't think of anything else? No, of course not. Is there some different meaning that I secretly harbor some desire to own a yellow chair? Nope. There is no deep dark meaning. It's simply mine.

But now I've shared it and now I have to find something else that's mine. ;^)

If you're a reader, is there some thing an particular author writes such as this that you find yourself liking (the first one for me that comes to mind is the button Roarke always keeps with him in the ...in Death series of books)? If you're a writer, is there something like this that you find yourself developing? It doesn't have to have some deep meaning, just something that's fun and adds a touch of you to each story you create.

Let me Speak I have a Voice

“Come on it should go this way.” Voice A states.

“No I want it this way.” Voice B defends

“You better let me speak or…” Voice A warns.

“Or else what?” Voice B shoots back.

“I won’t say a word and we’ll see how far you get without me.” Voice A said with no inflection in the tone.

“Okay lets compromise.” Voice B suggests.

Voice A and B watch each other then sit down to discuss.

This is a mythical conversation between a writer (Voice B) and the characters (Voice A).

As a writer it is hard when you have vision of how a story will go then it takes a different turn because of how the characters want it to be. Characters have personalities, wants, desires, and opinions just like anyone else. I learned long ago to let them flow as they are supposed to. I learned to work together instead of against each other. This helps me create vivid real people and paranormal beings that make you want to laugh, cry, fight, and love with them. Writing takes a mix of all parts working together.

Don’t get me wrong in no way it is always roses and harmony but I’ve learned to work together. This is about getting the best story out to you the reader. In the process of creating characters that live you must keep true to the characters. Years ago this was hard for me. I had a vision I wanted but it didn’t ring true to the characters. When I realized in order to make the best book I would have to get deep inside the characters psyche I learned to listen and get their personalities so it rings true. It is a balancing act that you work on for each book to get it just where it needs to be.

Even when I read I can tell if a “voice” of the characters. I don’t know if that’s just me but I do and I enjoy novels that the characters voice is real more. Even some characters that stick with me even after the story is finished I take with me as I sleep. They pop up in my dreams. That to me is a sign of a great book. Characters that stay with you afterwards and make you wonder what is going on in their lives.

With my own characters that I have already written I don’t have to wonder. They pop up in my dreams also letting me know they are still there. When I am on a roll with a new character they won’t let me sleep or have a moment to myself.

LOL. Yeah my mind is full and I love it.

My question to you. How does the characters in any novel you have read or written speak to you?

****

Taige Crenshaw is a multi-published author with books available at Ellora's Cave Publishing, Liquid Silver Books, Loose Id, and Total-E-Bound. Taige has been enthralled with the written word from time she picked up her first book. It wasn’t long before she started to make up her own tales of romance. With novels set in today, in alternate dimensions, or in the future she writes with adventure, fun sassy heroine’s, and sexy hero’s. Always hard at work creating new and exciting places Taige can be found curled up with a hot novel with exciting characters when she is not creating her own. Join her in the fun, frolic, interesting people and far reaches of the world in her novels. You can find out more about Taige at her website: http://www.taigecrenshaw.com or blog: http://www.taigecrenshaw.com/blog.

The Bunny Hop

Join us and hop down the bunny trail through the Bunny Hop Blog Tour. Take a trip through nine blogs of 'egg-ceptional' hunk biographies that will make your blood heat up, make the butterflies in your abdomen flip with ecstasy and a warmth rise from deep within and twinge.

Find and collect all the Bunny Hop 'egg' words in each blog and at the end of the blog send an email to dawne.prochilo@yahoo.com with ALL the words for your chance to be in a drawing for fabulous and erotic romance ebooks plus a special grand prize of an autographed copy of Mary Quest's Tormented Soul.

So hop, bump, grind, rub...do whatever you have to do to meet all our scrumptious men



Meet Our Naughty Authors


Mary Quast

Savannah Kougar

Dawne Prochilo

Madelyn Ford

Gem Sivad

Elise Hepner

Chloe Waits

Becca Simone

Jeanne St James

Thursday 13

13 Ways to Say "Kiss Me" From Around the Globe

1. German: Küss mich!
2. Spanish: Besamé
3. French: Embrassez-moi
4. Dutch: Kus me
5. Portuguese: Beije-me
6. Italian: baciami









7. Hawaiian: Honi mai
8. Japanese: Kisushite
9. Russian: tsyeluj menya
10. Polish: daj buzi
11. Chinese: wen wo
12. Arabic: Boosni
13. Romanian: te rog saruta-ma