Sunday with ShapeShifter Seductions ~ Purple Boots

Here's the latest X-Flash Scene at SHAPESHIFTER SEDUCTIONS

Meet Prudence Penelope, a pea-parrot shapeshifter, her mink shifter sub, Danny, and the elusive Burgess, an Aussi Penguin shapeshifter.

Purple Boots, A Mink Stole and Jingly Bells...
by Serena Shay

Prudence Penelope sashayed down the hall towards sin. There wasn’t a more appropriate name for the room painted in arousal red and containing apparatuses which must have been designed in hell.

"Breathe." Between the gentle reminders to continue taking in air and the tippy-tap of her purple fuck me boots Penelope assumed everything would be okay.

Dante’s call letting her know there’d be a room ready at the pleasure club by six left her floored. While Penelope adored spending time at Dante's, especially in sin, no way could she maintain her word to Burgess under such strain.

In fact, the last thing she wanted was to be anywhere near reminders of the orgasms she'd given up.

Dante however insisted she be there at six and follow each directive he set down.
1. Wear the boots. Tied tight and all the way to the top—no folding them over.
2. Wrap the mink around her throat.
3. Only bells allowed beneath her trench coat.
4. No orgasms.

Rule four became almost impossible to follow considering where the bells from three were laced. She smiled though as Danny's coarse little tongue slid up her neck and behind her ear.

"I'm excited to, Daniel. Two months is far too long to be apart from our blue-haired penguino.”

Burgess had been called away on some super secret, not to be divulged, mission so long ago. The wait for his return began to grind on their nerves.

The last night they shared together he'd requested one thing from both she and Danny—stay celibate until he returned. By the final orgasm wrung from one another, Penelope hadn't seen a problem in remaining sex-free. She’d thought he would only be gone for a short time, but as seven days turned to thirty the urges became harder to ignore.

When one month bled into two, she and Danny neared their breaking point. Being highly sexual in nature they needed a release, but a promise was a promise.

“Okay, we must to calm down.” Penelope tugged at her boots one last time and straightened out the trench coat. “I’d adjust the bells too, Daniel, however that would force me to break my promise, 10 steps away from our Aussie.”

Penelope reached for the handle and pushed the door open, unprepared for the sight that greeted her.

“G’day, Mistress Penny…”

Too long without has turned Mistress Penelope into something of a terror...not letting us see into that room was just mean.

Serena

Flipping for Construction Boys

I'm celebrating my book release this week! Flipped came out last Saturday, and I'm spreading the joy of sexy construction workers.

Both heroes in the story are manual laborers. Which means they're good with their hands...

Mario works as a construction foreman. He gets to spend all day supervising a crew of laborers.

Like this guy:

And Carter is a landscaper, so he can work without a shirt.

Carter and Mario have been best friends for years. They recently joined forces to flip a house. That means a lot of together time as they nail and screw.

But back to the original topic of this post. My new release! Here's a blurb:

Carter Hope would do just about anything for his best friend. When Mario gets the bright idea to buy a POS house together to flip and sell, Carter swears he’s out of his mind. Unfortunately, Mario Gutierrez is hard to resist. After one weird conversation at a bar, and one meaningful look across their empty beer bottles, Carter isn’t sure he’s not the one flipping for his friend.They’re both tops, so to make this work, one will have to give in and roll over. Will Carter’s past let him find new happiness with his best friend?

How about an excerpt?

"Good night, Carter."

Carter's feet shuffled to a stop. Shit. He said my name. He rarely used his name in a good-night, and now he’d used his entire name—not just the first syllable—in that sexy way that suggested all kinds of things they could do rather than sleep. Carter forced his feet to carry him forward and clenched his teeth all the way to the bathroom. He kicked the door shut, braced his arms on the vanity, and took a few cleansing breaths.

He listened as the water ran in the kitchen, then the clink of the drinking glass being set on the top rack of the dishwasher. Carter didn't have to watch to know every move the man made. He could picture the scene as clearly as if he stood next to Mario.

He'd run a hand through his hair, leaving tunnels in the thick black strands. Then he'd start undressing before he made it to the staircase down to his apartment. They'd been friends for a decade, and roommates for close to five years, so Carter knew every pattern the guy had.

Carter turned on the faucet. Partly for distraction and partly to splash some water on his face. Before he could lean over the sink, he had to unzip his fly and pull out his cock. He throbbed. Throwing his head back, he gripped his prick and pulled.

"Oh, fuck." Tingles began almost immediately. Every damn nerve ending in his body stood at attention and buzzed with the tension. Before another stroke, he let go and stiff-armed the countertop again. He sucked in huge amounts of air and blinked rapidly until his vision cleared. Okay, so he'd end the night with some solo play. But not here. He'd wait until he lay in bed with The Late Show turned up to cover his squeaky springs and his own moaning.

He shoved Mario's image out of his spank bank and focused on brushing his teeth. By the time he left the bathroom, his body had cooled down to a slow simmer, but not enough to rezip his fly, so he just tucked his dick into his underwear as best he could. Trying to keep his mind off how damn good his orgasm would be tonight, he crossed the living room to the kitchen because Mario had left the light on—as usual.

Once dark, the entire old house seemed to settle in, curl up like a cat in front of a fireplace. Carter stood in the kitchen, staring at the closed door that stood between him and his best friend. He wouldn't let the thought of walking downstairs and taking Mario into his arms form in his mind. Not going to happen.

So why wouldn't his feet move?

He relaxed his jaw to breathe through his mouth. His eyes started to water from staring at the dark door, but he seemed glued in place.

Go to bed, Carter. The sooner you get to sleep, the sooner you can put this weirdness behind you. He repeated the order a few times before he took a step backward. Just as he did, the door opened.

Mario entered the kitchen, wearing nothing but his boxer shorts. He kept hold of the doorknob. Even from across the room—lit only by the neighbor's back porch light shining through their uncovered windows—there was no mistaking the desire oozing out of every pore.

Carter squeezed his eyes shut. He could not imagine shit like this about his best friend. When he opened his eyes, the man stood close enough to touch.

"I'm sorry, Car. God, I'm sorry. I know I shouldn't be up here." His words blended together in one long syllable. A clear sign of Mario's anxiety. Some people talked louder when agitated; Mario talked faster. "I don't want to fuck things up between us. You're my best friend. You can tell me to leave. Just say the word and I'll go downstairs, and we'll forget I ever opened that door. We can blame the liquor. Or, God, please tell me—" Mario took another step until his breath washed over Carter's heated skin. "Tell me it's okay. Tell me you want this too, and let me kiss you." Mario's voice had never sounded so damn sexy. The rumble went straight to Carter's balls.

Carter couldn't speak, the alarms going off now drowned by the desire pumping through his veins. He reached up, hooked Mario around the neck, and brought their foreheads together.

"I want this."

If you'd like to read the first chapter, just visit my website.

Thanks for helping me celebrate my new release! Now I'm going to enjoy a nice cold lemonade.

~Olivia Brynn

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Flipped from Silver Publishing

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Evocative Art

The Guardian 

The work of artist, David DeVary , inspired me this week.

                             Rusty                    Rodeo Rider          We're Comin' Thru              
I'm working in my Eclipse Heat series wip, Trouble in Disguise right now. These pics helped me "find" and develop my heroine, Beau (Miracle) Beauregard, a woman disguising her identity to pursue her career as a bounty hunter.
Trouble In Disguise (Snippet):

His name was Robert McCallister, his handle, The Deacon. Vetted by his kinship to Charlie Wolf and her own instincts, Miracle Beauregard made sure their paths crossed often, which wasn’t that hard, since he took it upon himself to give her advice whenever he could. He’d been waiting in front of the Sundown Sheriff’s Office three weeks  before and laid into her.

“Rock salt? Kid, I hope you know that’ll swell up and jam your gun if you’re not careful. And what the hell are you doing chasing bounty with that kind of ammunition?”

“I aim to leave ‘em alive fer ya to redeem their souls later, preacher man,” she’d drawled.  He was so dadblamed bossy, she’d had to prick his temper some, just for the fun of it. He’d rumbled, actually growled, making him seem even more like a bear. She’d loved it.


But there wasn’t a thing bear-like about him on the day she saw him cut down Luke Johnson in a shoot-out. The outlaw had been in a bar in Abilene. She’d been tracking him for a spell and had the paper on him. Johnson didn’t know her. Shucks, she could have surprised him and taken him out without leaving him dead. Deacon just inserted himself in the mix and took over.

As soon as he came through the saloon doors, Johnson recognized him and went for his gun. The outlaw got off his shot but not before Deacon drew his weapon and delivered a bullet that struck the man over his heart. McCallister’s movements had been smooth, steady and fast as a snake strike. All had taken place in less than the time it took to fry an egg.

Deacon ignored her, crossed the floor and slung the dead man over his shoulder, carrying him from the bar. Before she left town, Mari  made it a point to step in the bounty hunter's path. “McCallister, Johnson was in my sights. Ya got in my way in there.” She included a slab of honey and advice with her complaint. "Coat the wound in this, it'll heal it." 

When he stood staring down at her home remedy, she said, “’Twon’t take but a dab of that to fix up that bullet crease.” She resisted the urge to take the honey and smear it on his cheek herself. Johnson’s bullet had come real close to sending McCallister to meet his maker.  “Bears like honey,” she added. “Ya can eat the rest.”


She felt silly after she told him that and made a point of leaving Sundown right after. But, the pattern for their encounters was set that day. Boss me, you’ll get back the same.

How about you? Does art inspire you? Certain songs get your muse flowing, your thoughts perking?

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New release: A Scent of Longing....a vampire romance

On Friday, April 13, Decadent Publishing released A Scent of Longing, a 1Night Stand story. It’s my fifth published erotic romance and my first paranormal. I’ll let the characters introduce themselves with a brief sketch:

Name: Lily Dansen

Age: 28

Occupation: Graphics designer. Has her own business.

Favorite article of clothing: Pink pajamas printed with white cartoon sheep

What she can never have: All the normal things, marriage, children.

Her biggest secret: She was turned into a vampire by a former lover. Hasn’t told her parents; only her best friend knows.

Why she agreed to a date arranged by 1Night Stand: Her friend signed her up, and transitory trysts are all that’s left for her.

What she’s adamant about: Won’t date vamps. They can’t be trusted.

In her own words: “I can’t date. I’m a vampire now. I’m also a terrible judge of character.”

Name: Luc Fortier

Age: Looks 35, in reality 376

Occupation: Antiques importer

Physical description: Dark hair, very light blue eyes that change color with his emotion

What he can never have: A mate. Who would have a man like him?

His biggest secret: He’s a Half-Breed, an abomination shunned by vampire society

Why he agreed to a date arranged by 1Night Stand: To help out Madame Eve and fulfill the vampire fantasies of her clients

What he’s adamant about: This date will be last. It’s too painful a reminder of what he’ll never have.

In his own words:  “You know what I am now…I had hoped you could overlook my mixed race.”

A Scent of Longing blurb:

Lily Dansen refuses to date vampires. The last time she trusted a one, he turned her. She agrees to a date arranged by 1 NightStand, believing that a quick tryst is all that’s left for her.

A 376-year-old half-vampire, half human Luc Fortier can’t continue to satisfy the vampire fantasies of young ladies while his dreams go unfulfilled. He vows to bedazzle one last date before he calls it quits.

Neither Luc nor Lily expect more than an evening of passion, but they haven’t counted on Madame Eve’s superior matchmaking skills.

An Excerpt from A Scent of Longing

“Someone named Madame Evangeline emailed me to confirm my appointment.” Lily Dansen nailed her best friend with an accusing stare. “What did you get me into?”

Her feet curled under her on Lily’s sofa, Roxie Fairchild braved her scowl without a flinch. “It’s for your own good. You’ve moped around long enough. You need to live again.”

“Date, you mean.”

“Date. Have sex. Get wild and crazy. Anything!”

“No man will go out with me once he’s finds out what I am. What happens if I do to someone else what Phillip did to me? I couldn’t live with myself.” Bitterness etched Lily’s voice.

“You’re nothing like Phillip.” Her expression gentle, Roxie squeezed Lily’s hand. Her touch felt feverish, but Lily knew Roxie was fine; she was the afflicted one. “You have a long future, and you can’t spend it alone.”

Lily’s brunette curls bounced with the shake of her head. “I can’t date. I’m a vampire now.” The corners of her mouth drooped. “I’m also a terrible judge of character.”

“You’ve made some bad choices,” Roxie agreed.

“Married. Wanted for armed robbery. Vampire….” Lily ticked off the losers she’d had the misfortune of dating.

“That’s why Madame Evangeline’s 1Night Stand service—”

“—is a bad idea.”

“—is a good idea,” Roxie continued. “You can get your feet wet before you dive into the dating pool. An evening of hot sex with no strings attached will help you get your mojo back.”

Lily scrunched her nose up with distaste. “I don’t see how sleeping with a stranger will help me regain my confidence. And what if he has some horrible disease?”

Roxie chuckled. “A, that’s what condoms prevent. B, Madame Eve screens her candidates carefully. And, C, you’re a vampire now! You’re immune to everything, right?”

“That’s the only positive thing.” Lily hugged herself. The golden color she’d acquired basking on Santa Monica Beach had faded to pasty white, and she would never be able to tan again. If she so much as stepped into sunlight, she’d sizzle like a potato dropped into a deep fryer. And speaking of which, she couldn’t eat french fries anymore either. Or pizza. Or chocolate. But none of those things mattered.

Her throat constricted, and she swallowed. “I’ll never have children.” By turning her, Phillip, the rat vampire bastard, had stolen her chance of motherhood.

“I know, sweetie.” Roxie’s voice brimmed with sympathy. “And damn Phillip for that. But maybe, when you’re ready, you could adopt?”

“Who’d give a baby to a vampire?”

“How would they know?”

“There’d be home visits from a social worker or daytime meetings with an agency, which you know I can’t do!” She raised her hand to halt further painful discussion. “Please, can we talk about something else?”

“All right.” Roxie blinked and smothered a tiny yawn. “Sorry about that.”

“It’s not your fault.” She was out of sync with the world. The clock had struck midnight and her friend could hardly keep her eyes open, but Lily was wide awake. That pointed to another reason she couldn’t date—how could she explain her unavailability during the day?

“There’s no way Madame Evangeline could find a guy who would suit me.”

“She has a gift for connecting people. Besides, I know you. I filled out your online application with your likes, dislikes, and character traits.”

Annoyance warred with curiosity. Curiosity won. “What did you say about me?”

Links:

Decadent buy link 

Amazon buy link 

ARe buy link 

Cara Bristol blog/web site 

New Cover Art

Coming soon from Ellora's Cave 

Blurb:

Missouri Hess spends more time hiding her gifts than using them.  Unfair but true, after she makes suffering disappear, folks want her to go away too. Content living alone in the hills of West Virginia, she ignores those who call her witch.

On the night of a full moon, she works her magic to save a beast’s life. Though she’s accustomed to ingratitude, she doesn’t expect to be bitten for her trouble. With that little nip, her world begins to shift.

As a government operative with special abilities, Thomas Hunter works for a sub-agency of the NSA. He’s a shape-shifting jaguar and on his new assignment, the hills are teeming with more than possums and snakes. Thomas has been brought in to track his own kind, but after a certain red-haired witch saves his hide, beast and man have only one thing on their mind–a woman named Miz.

Now Thomas needs to keep them both alive long enough to convince the independent healer she needs a familiar by her side.

Visit me @ Gem's Place  /  Newsletter  /  FB  /  Twitter 

Welcome Randi Alexander

New Release, Contest, and Book Giveaway!

I'm so glad to be here today! Thank you, Becca, and all the Romance Writers Behaving Badly. I'm Randi Alexander and I write cowboy erotic romance. I'm published with The Wild Rose Press' Cowboy Kink line. My second Cowboy Kink, Her Cowboy Stud, was recently released.

My big giveaway during April's blog tour for Her Cowboy Stud is a messenger bag filled with adult toys. (Actually, the bag is filled with a gift certificate to Pureromance, but it seems more exciting to say it's full of delightfully naughty goodies.)

Initially, I was going to select the toys to put in the bag. I found a lovely purple vibrator, purple nipple clamps, fuzzy purple handcuffs, a combo flogger/feather tickler (purple, of course.) But then I thought about how different people's tastes are.

In Chase and Seduction, there's a little slap and tickle, a little light bondage. In Her Cowboy Stud, it's more intense. Trace is a Dom, Macy's a sub, and when they meet, yee-haw! They're using ankle spreaders and nipple clamps and floggers and vibrators. I just let my imagination go wild. (I even surprised myself, a little bit!)

Interestingly, I read one review of Her Cowboy Stud that was very complimentary to my writing and the plot, a very high score for the book. But she mentioned that sex toys were used, and warned readers that they'd have to look away if they were squeamish. I found that very interesting.

I wanted to ask the reviewer what her definition of sex toys is. Is it just the vibrators and butt plugs that give her the heebie jeebies? Or is it the floggers and clamps and candles, too? Is bondage equipment (handcuffs, spreaders, etc.) too much, also? Which part made her need to fast-forward to the next scene?

What are your thoughts? How much is too much in a sex scene? What makes you go "Ewwww!" and skip pages? Or is it all good and interesting for you, and the more toys the better? I'd love to hear your opinion.

BLURB:

Trace McGonagall’s quiet life on his Houston stud ranch is shaken up when gorgeous Macy Veralta arrives to claim an inheritance left to her in his uncle’s will. Trace sees her as just another gold digger, but he also can’t resist her curvy body. When she hints at being the perfect submissive to his Dom, he has to have her.

Macy wouldn’t have been three months late to claim her inheritance if she’d known Trace was sin in jeans. The cowboy’s dominant bearing and the smoldering glint in his eyes send shivers to her toes and stirs images of being bound in his bed and disciplined at his hand. But could Trace’s perfect seduction be part of his plan to reclaim her inheritance?

EXCERPT: 

Slowing his pace, Trace eased his cock out of Macy's tight core and reached over the side of the bed for the purple bag. He dumped the contents onto the mattress beside them.

She blinked a couple times. "What are you up to?" Her voice came out hazy but her sly smile conveyed her interest.

How dark were her submissive urges? The toys he'd dumped out were basic. A rabbit vibrator, a smaller anal vibrator, heart-shaped nipple massagers, a vibrating cock ring, and a tongue vibrator. All of them could be used to enhance their sex, but his tastes ran wilder. He needed to bind, to whip and clamp. Would that be too much for her? Would it send her running?

She lifted the nipple vibrators. Grinning, she asked, "For you or me?"

He chuckled. "You. Definitely." He opened the package and pressed the button to start the vibrator on one. Holding her breast in his big hand, he affixed the suction to her hard nipple.

She jumped and her breath left her with a smile. "I like that." The second vibrator caused a similar reaction, and she reached her hands over her head and grasped the pine rungs of the headboard.

His cock twitched and his balls tightened just watching her. Shit. He'd love to tie her to it, tease her and pleasure her until she cried for mercy, but that would have to wait for the next round. He needed to be inside her slit, and damn fast or he'd embarrass himself.

Picking up the big vibrator, he waited for her eyes to lock on his and wagged his eyebrows. "You won't be needin' this any more."

She laughed, a soft, tortured, seductive laugh. "No. I have my own stud, now." She glanced down at his hard rod, which made it jerk and weep for release.

"Try this," she said, reaching for the cock ring and pressing the button to turn on the vibrator through the cellophane packaging.

Hell, how would he get it on his shaft without shooting his cum? He needed a minute. He set it on her stomach, letting the vibrations tickle her bellybutton.

Macy writhed, her muscles long and sleek as she arched her back and circled her hips. He ached to be inside her sweet cunt, pumping, answering her primal rhythm. He looked away, hanging on to his control by sheer force of will. His gaze fell on the vibrating butt plug, packed in a bag with a bottle of lube. Yes. He could see how open she'd be to anal play. He held up the bag, and repeated her words. "Try this?"

A shiver rattled her body as she whispered, "Yes."

*********

To celebrate the release of Her Cowboy Stud, I'm giving away, to one lucky commenter*, an e-copy of my new erotic romance short story anthology, Cowboy Bad Boys. Just leave a comment today and we'll choose a winner tomorrow. *Commenter must be 18 years of age or older to win.

I'm also giving away a custom-made messenger bag and a $50 gift certificate to Pureromance to one subscriber to my newsletter. For more details, and to sign up for this contest, please go to my website, RandiAlexander.com  And while you're there, you can read the first chapter of Her Cowboy Stud.

Good luck, and thank you!

Randi

RandiAlexander.com

WildAndWickedCowboysBlog

Her Cowboy Stud available at The Wild Rose Press Wilder Roses

Kindle version is available at Amazon.com

Friday Whimsy

Are you a Triskaidekaphobe? Translated--Afraid of Friday the 13th? 

Tris (greek for three) deka (greek for 10) phobe (an individual affected by a certain fear) effectivey a triskaidekaphobe fears the number thirteen, or situation that involves anything in a 13 sequence... When a group of 13 objects is divided into two, three, four or six equal groups, there is always one leftover object.

It is believed that Loki in the Norse pantheon was the 13th god. This was later Christianised into saying that Satan was the 13th angel.  (source)

You're not alone if you feel anxiety on Friday the 13th. More than 80 percent of high-rises lack a 13th floor. Many airports skip the 13th gate. Hospitals and hotels regularly have no room number 13.

On streets in Florence, Italy, the house between number 12 and 14 is addressed as 12 and a half. In France socialites known as thequatorziens (fourteeners) once made themselves available as 14th guests to keep a dinner party from an unlucky fate.

Hope your Friday 13th is a good one!

Gem

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But you don't *look* like a smut writer

Recently I got some good news in this aspiring-writer adventure, and I was so gleeful I shared it with some buddies. They said the expected congratulatory things and then asked me to tell them a little more about the story in question. I mentioned that it was erotica.

Silence.

Scuffling.

"But I thought you wrote, you know, other stuff." I could hear the mad blushing over Skype.

I 'spect they had me pegged as writing...what? The twenty-first-century version of Little House on the Prairie? And more importantly, why? Because I'm a mid-thirties soccer mom who couldn't balance on fetish footwear to save her life and doesn't wear her pasties out in public? Because I bake a mean pumpkin cake and coo over kittens and don't make a habit of hanging up nudie artwork in my living room?

My guess is that most erotica writers don't wear their club leathers down to the Wal-Mart. Probably most don't even own spreader bars, just some inspirational pics on their hard drives to get them by. I further guess that my very shocked friends have passed by an erotica writer or two in the aforementioned Wal-Mart and never once knew it.

See, we look like normal people. Hell, we are normal people. Just, as I'm finding out, normal people with really fun jobs.

--
Cross-posted at vivienjackson.com

Excerpt from DEEP BLUE

by Becca Simone

To celebrate the release of DEEP BLUE (last Thursday), I wanted to tease you with a short excerpt.


She blinked, twice, because this amazing man had to be a hallucination. He leaned toward her across the railing, the muscles in his powerful, bare torso flexing with the movement. His gaze held hers as he moved closer and closer, and then his eyes closed as his mouth touched hers. For just a moment, Kate couldn’t move, and then she gave in to the kiss. He tasted slightly salty, as if he’d been swimming in the sea, but his mouth was hot against hers. When his tongue grazed the seam of her lips, she couldn’t help opening to him, and he thrust inside, swirling and dipping until she had to wrap her arms around him to keep from falling to the deck floor on her rubbery legs.

Suddenly, the air squeezed from her lungs and darkness surrounded her, then the sensation of falling, downward, downward. Shards of ice water knived into every pore of her skin as the sea swallowed her screams.

Available now|Bookstrand

* * * * *

Becca Simone writes contemporary erotic romance from her home in the Pacific Northwest. You can learn more about Becca on her website.

X-RATED Snippet starring Zance, Timber Wolf Shapeshifter

COMING SOON...

From the Kougar's Writing Den ~ my latest WIP ~

Her Midnight Stardust Cowboys

X-RATED *Unedited* Snippet starring Zance, Timber Wolf Shapeshifter

NOTE: This is from Chapter Thirty-four, so the heroine and her heroes have gotten to know each other.

~~~~~~

His mate's smoky green eyes settled on his face. "How do you want me?"

Every which way but loose, Zance's mind answered.

"How about lettin' this big bad wolf mount that beautiful ass of yours?" Zance felt his wolf growl with need low in his loins. "But only after I get a long taste of those pearly breasts of yours, sweetheart."

A wild little moan escaped her. Her breaths quickened, and she raised upward rolling toward him. Zance stared, appreciating her trembling voluptuous breasts.

"Rough as she can handle, right, darlin'?" Behind her now, Dontoya stroked her back.

"Looks like you're the big bad wolf for the job," she crooned, playing the seductress.

Yet, Zance heard her shy side. Rising, he knelt on the bed, his shaft bobbing near her rosy mouth, swollen from Dontoya's kiss.

"Lollipop," she sultrily murmured. Reaching out, she daintily slid her thumb and forefinger up his length.

Zance's breath jerked inward, and his abdomen muscles tightened, looking like an old-fashioned washboard. She stopped at his engorged head, then slipped her fingers down his shaft.

Dontoya moved off the bed, silent as a big cat. "Headed for the bathroom. You're on your own, pard, till I get back. Careful, darlin'. Looks like Zance-dog's six shooter is about to fire."

"Yep," Zance groaned out, but couldn't move for the life of him, even as his cock turned into an achy torch.

"Suckable," she praised. Her fingertips caressed his crown, her touch so delicate Zance thought it rivaled the touch of an angel. And he damn well liked it. Too much.
~~~~~~

Sherilyn wasn't looking for a hero to save her and her horses... but two shapeshifters, Zance and Dontoya, found her.

~~~

Dreaming of a Wolf Shapeshifter Cowboy...

Savanna

Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance ~

New Contract

Call Me Miz
Coming soon from Ellora's Cave.

Blurb: 

Missouri Hess spends more time hiding her gifts than using them. Unfair as it is, after she makes suffering disappear, folks want her to go away too. Content living alone in the hills of West Virginia, she ignores those who call her witch.

On the night of a full moon, she works her magic to save a beast's life. Though she’s accustomed to ingratitude, she doesn’t expect to be bitten for her trouble. After one little nip, her world begins to shift. 

As a government operative with special abilities, Thomas Hunter works for a sub-agency of the National Security Administration. He’s a shape-shifting jaguar, and on his new assignment, the hills are teeming with more than possums and snakes. Thomas has been brought in to track his own kind, but after Miz saves his hide, beast and man have only a motorcycle riding woman on their mind. 

Now Thomas needs to keep them both alive long enough to convince the independent healer she needs a familiar by her side.

Hi, everyone. I'm sharing news today about signing my first contract in a new genre. I once wrote a short paranormal western blog series about a healer in the Old West. I called it Cat Nip. It was pure whimsy, I had fun with it, but set it aside to write more traditional westerns.


Not too long ago, I revisited the short 2500 word Free Read and decided there was a story yet to tell about my main character's descendants. Encouraged by some author friends, I wrote a contemporary, paranormal, novella set in rural West Virginia, titled it Call Me Miz, and held my breath when I subbed it.


I'm happy dancing now. Call Me Miz was contracted by Ellora's Cave for their Twilight Line/Shifter Icon. No cover yet, but I found the above picture on a stock photo site and bought it because it reminded me so much of  my Harley riding heroine, Missouri Hess.

*****

For release dates, news updates, contests and a little historical whimsy, sign up for Dreamcatcher Ezine, a monthly newsletter read by Gem's Fans.
Subscribe Now (next issue, April 1)

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Happy Release Day to Me!!!

I am SO excited to finally have a new story out. DEEP BLUE releases today from Siren-Bookstrand. My publisher gave it the steamiest rating of "Sextreme." Gotta love that! It's different than anything I've ever written before. Here's the blurb.

Under the light of a full moon and lurking in the restless waves of the deep blue sea, someone or something watches a ship cutting through the dark waters.

Insurance fraud investigator Kate Hargrove is looking into the disappearances of women from a cruise line. She soon “disappears” herself when pulled undersea by a giant sea creature. Now, this beauty is trapped beneath the sea with a desperate beast.

100 years ago, Thaddeus Ryker was cursed and banished to the ocean depths. He has only three more days to find someone to love him in his monstrous half man/half sea creature state or he’ll spend eternity as a monster of the sea.

When her terror subsides, Kate realizes she’s both attracted to and repulsed by Thaddeus. As she gets to know him, she discovers a sexy, haunted man. Can she learn to love him – a monster – in just three days?

Available now!

Bookstrand

You can learn more about Becca on her website, Facebook

or follow her on Twitter @BeccaSimone.

New release Shattered Glass by A.C. Katt from MLR

Blurb-

Liam knew he loved Milo, even as a kid. But their fame and fortune can’t buy him the happiness of taking Milo out of the closet and be able to freely express their love. Unfortunately, there is someone out there who will do anything to tear them apart. He conspires to break up the lovers in the most vicious way possible.

Six years later, Liam is older, wiser, and has rebuilt his life after the devastating loss of his lover. Forced by his loyalty to a friend, Liam agrees to a working reunion with Milo. When they realize what was done to them, they band together to uncover the web of lies that pulled them apart.





EXCERPT-

I need you so



I’ll love you forever



Give me your hand



I’ll never let go



Words without Music, Milo Stamis



Milo’s entire body flattened against the connecting door between the two suites. He got as close as he could allow himself. Liam needed time to adjust, and Milo couldn’t force the issue again. Hadn’t he learned his lesson? He never gave Liam the time he needed to grow and learn.



I grabbed, I always grabbed. I took him too soon. I should have let him have boyfriends, dates. I was selfish.



Milo lost himself in memories of other times they’d made love. How he’d needed to worship his baby’s body with his hands and tongue, but Liam got there first, making him shake and shudder, his mouth everywhere. Liam’s tongue traced the rim of his navel and the trail of hair which crossed his hard stomach to the juncture of his thighs where his cock stood straight up, leaking.



Liam called it a happy trail. It made Milo laugh, until Liam licked around his groin and somehow maneuvered his head to a place beneath his balls, where he accessed the sensitive underside of his cock, and the pendulous set of balls in danger of tightening up to shoot their wad too soon. Liam kissed and bit the skin beneath his cock and caressed his balls. He took each of them in his mouth and rolled them with his tongue.

Liam worked his mouth around to Milo’s ass. Liam swiped the crack with his tongue in an intense, rhythmic motion, until Milo’s clenched cheeks relaxed and flowered for Liam. Liam’s tongue moved between his cheeks to the tiny puckered rosette waiting for him. Liam dove in, circling the outside of the small pink center with a sweeping motion, then Liam plunged his tongue within.

The kid began to shake, and Milo worried he didn’t like what he did. But Milo didn’t have time to explain Liam got an A+ in lovemaking. He was so hard, so emotionally high thinking about how he would nail his Liam, he hadn’t given a thought to telling his baby how good he made him feel. He frantically grabbed at Liam’s torso and brought him up to the top of the bed.



Reaching over to the nightstand, he opened the drawer for a bottle of lube. “Baby, I’m going to fuck you. But we need to lubricate your ass. I don’t want to be responsible for hurting you and clouding your first experience with any lingering pain. Lay on your side.”



“I can take you. I know I can,” whimpered Liam in a frenzy of need.



Milo didn’t listen. He took the lube and slathered his fingers. Reaching down to Liam’s ass, Milo began to massage his cheeks, As he caressed the high hard muscle, he reveled in the satin texture of Liam pale skin, which made such a startling contrast to the long, thick, straight ebony hair touching his shoulders and back. Milo sunk his face into Liam’s curtain of hair as he spread Liam’s cheeks. Taking his two largest fingers, he circled Liam’s hole, stretching his anal passage. He worked him for ten minutes until Liam’s desperate moans reminded Milo that Liam needed this connection as much as he did.



He rolled Liam over so they were face to face, pushing Liam’s knees to tuck up under his chin. He forced a pillow underneath his baby’s lower back. This allowed Milo full access to Liam’s mouth, cock, and hole. His fingers probed Liam’s passage, searching for the elusive sweet spot.



He knew he found it when Liam cried his name followed by, “Please, Milo, please, take me. I’m forever yours. Come inside me. I want you inside me!”



Milo looked down and lost himself in Liam’s violet eyes. Yes, his baby wanted him. Milo’s eyes blazed in passion. He pulled on Liam’s leg, bringing him up and closer. Liam took his own arms and placed them so they helped to angle his hole for a direct hit by Milo’s ready cock. Milo could wait no longer. He took his cock and shoved it toward Liam’s bright pink hole. Nothing held him back from claiming what he’d always thought of as his. He pushed. Liam bore down, and Milo moved past the sphincter muscle into his tight, hot passage.



Liam moved his muscles, clenching and relaxing, massaging Milo’s cock. Milo couldn’t wait for Liam to adjust. Liam salved his conscience by yelling, “Move, Milo. I need you hard and quick, now!”



Milo began to pound into Liam. Soon his body and his brain coalesced, and all that was left was the feeling produced by his dick in Liam’s hole. Over and over and over, he rammed into Liam ass, his balls slapping his baby’s cheeks. Milo needed more. His mouth moved over Liam’s skin. His hand stroked his baby’s long slender cock as it twitched between them. Liam shout showed a complete loss of control.



“Good, Milo, so fucking good. God, I love you…deeper, harder. Please don’t stop. Love me, please, love me. I need you to love me so much.”



Milo felt the beginnings of his orgasm at the base of his spine. It traveled from his brain, along his spinal cord, through his balls and sent electrical shocks to his cock. He began to cum. He felt like he shot an endless flood of cum into his baby’s ass. He imagined the passage painted in his seed, coated with his scent, marking his lover as his and his alone. He felt Liam’s dick explode in his hand, the jism shooting up and over Milo’s chest and under his chin. Milo lay on top of Liam and smeared the cum on his chest, over Liam’s body, spreading Liam’s seed between them. They lay silent, staring at each other in wonder. How did this happen?



Milo kissed Liam on the forehead, and when Liam tried to speak, Milo put his finger to Liam’s lips. “I’ll be right back, baby.”



He went into the bath and ran warm water. He dumped the ice from the bucket and filled it. He soaped up a wash cloth and brought both the bucket and cloth back to bed. Milo went to Liam and washed him with great tenderness, kissing and loving each area he cleaned. He rinsed the cloth in the water and wiped down his own chest. He left the bucket and cloth on the nightstand, slipped under the covers, and pulled Liam in close. Liam pinned him to the mattress with his leg bent up over Milo’s stomach and his nose somewhere near his nipple. Milo sighed. It would take some time to get used to sleeping on his back, but he wanted Liam this close, so he only had to reach out and know he lay there beside him…


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Because I love it

A conversation that I’ve had a few times in the past and more recently got me to thinking. A lot of blood, sweat, time, sleepless nights and tears go into anything that you love. Whether it is sewing that fabulous outfit, painting a picture, crocheting a throw or any other number of things you do. With each it takes all of what I mentioned above on my your to get to that finished point. It is the same with being a writer. Let me break it down.

Blood – I’ve typed so hard that I’ve left blood on the keyboard or gotten paper cuts while reading through pages of my manuscript. Hey paper cuts hurt something awful. (grin). I put my figurative blood into each book I write. My heart and soul are on each page.

Sweat – I’ve broken into lots of sweat as I pounded away at the keyboard trying to get a scene just right. Talked with a reader which I love to do. Since I am shy this is the hardest for me. Hush those who know me that are laughing. I am shy, just not with those I know and am comfortable with. But I digress. I’ve sweated about a variety of things. Waiting anxiously to hear back on a submission. Edits for my book. Opened a review of my book.

Time – The amount of time spent with writing the book, doing self editing, then again self editing, crit partner editing, your editing again and then off to publisher who you will have to wait for a response. And if you get that all lovely response of “yes” then even more waiting to get to the process. When in the process even more waiting to get through the process. Then after process even more waiting to actual release. Then release then more waiting to see what people think. Whew I am tired of even imagining the time. Yet each moment is worth it. So worth it all.

Sleepless night – The idea in your brain that will not understand that you are sleeping that forces you out of bed in search of paper to write it down. The book you are writing that will not let you rest until that last scene is just so or that last word is complete. The excitement of a new project. The wait for the submission that you sent. Or waiting for a note/call from your editor on something.

Tears – Oh the tears I have cried as I write a scene in a book or read a letter from a reader who actually got the story as intended. The awesome review that said that one phrase that made you smile that the story did as you intended it to do. The bad review that even though they didn’t like the story there was something constructive in it that you took away for future reference. The tears of completion that you finished the story and it was written to the best you could get it. The tears of relief for the contract that you went after or publisher you wanted that story to be with. The tears of making hard choices that will be best for your career.

I could go on and on with a list of what all the things above mean in correlation to writing. I’ve been asked many times why do I write. My quick response is “it’s in my blood, soul and heart”. The more complex one is “because the blood, sweat, time, sleepless nights and tears go into it because I love it.” I get lots of confused looks when I give the complex one so I usually give the simple explanation. With the complex response I’ve never tried to articulate what I meant until now. There are so many layers to it all. So much to say. If you think about it all those points cover many things you do in your life. I have many creative outlets that I pursue. I draw, love to sew, do crafts and cook. Each are things I love and that I want to be my best at.

No matter what you are pursuing. The things that you put your heart into – that you bleed for – figuratively and in reality. The things that bring you closer to people you would never have expected to have anything in common with. Things that may, take time away from family and friends. What you sweat over because you want it to be you upmost best and create a reaction – good or bad. The nights you cannot sleep because your thoughts are consumed with whatever project you are working on. Or the wonder when it is seen by the world and how will they react. The tears you shed to get there, between going there and as you get there. Each tear has a purpose to make you go forward. They each make you learn and grow.

In each thing you do that involves blood, sweat, time, sleepless nights and tears none of it matters because it all boils down to one thing. You do it because you love it.

Taige Crenshaw
http://www.taigecrenshaw.com/
…increasing the sizzle factor

Blog: http://www.taigecrenshaw.com/blog
Chat Group: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/crenshawcafe
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Wilde Rapture - When a woman ducks into an alcove at a wedding she meets the man who is intriguing and will tempt her.

Buy here at Total-E-Bound.