Romance Writers Behaving Badly

Thursday Thirteen – 13 Things to Do with Whipping Cream

2012-02-16T00:01:00.005-05:00

Now that Valentine's Day is past, the chocolate is all gone (sob) but there is still a couple cans of whipping cream in the fridg. Here's a few ideas of what to do with them.

1. Of course… top off some yummy chocolate pudding, or hot apple pie, or ice cream. Wait a minute. Come on now… let’s add some spice to it!

2. Dip strawberries into it and feed them to your special someone. Swirl the whipping cream upon the lips and lick off together.

3. Make a whipping cream bikini or matching whipping cream undies and lick them off each other.

4. Place cut up banana pieces, strawberries, pop rocks candy onto naked belly (or any body part of your choosing) add chocolate syrup then top with whipping cream. Allow your dear honey bunny to lick it off. If you’re daring, try this and add a scoop of ice cream. Wowza!

5. “Hershey's syrup, whipped cream, and a Catwoman mask.” – Men’s Health magazine. Okay…? Sorry, I can’t do the Catwoman mask thing.

6. Now this old album cover gives me a few ideas I simply can’t express in words. What’s an album? If you don’t know… you shouldn’t be reading this post.

7. Oh, you need the obvious idea? Then simply cover your partner’s hottest spots. You have to lick the cream away to get to the “goodies”. Duh.

8. Need a little warmth while you play with all this whipping cream? Try this recipe: 1 cup heavy cream, whipped, add 1 ounce orange liqueur such as Grand Marnier, and whip together. Ladies - let your honey put this mixture wherever you might want him to pay a lot of attention to, cut he’ll probably be there awhile.

9. Add some strawberry syrup to the whipping cream then put it in the freeze for a bit before placing dollops onto nipples. The flavor and the cold enhances the … uh… pleasure.

10. Run a line of whipping cream along the backbone of your partner then slowly… I mean slowly lick it off. Don’t ever rush licking. A burp or gas of any kind can be rather embarrassing in a moment of passion.

11. Whipping cream, blindfold, handcuffs, and pineapple flavored edible warming oil. Need I say more?

12. Arm yourselves with cans of whipping cream; be sure to be naked, commence whipping cream war. Note: shower afterwards may be just as much fun as the war.

13. “Have your guy lie back comfortably on the bed; spray whipped cream from his naval to his upper thighs. Begin slowly licking it off the body areas above and below his package. After each lick, kiss his mouth with your lips covered in whipped cream, bring your mouth back below his belt. Slowly lick all the whipped cream off his body — except the cream directly covering his penis and testicles. Not until he’s aching should you finally indulge there.” – Cosmopolitan magazine. (Recommended by Laura Berman, PhD, sex therapist and creator of the DVD series Dr. Berman Can Help)

OHHHHHH…. HONEY….. I HAVE WHIPPING CREAM……

Funny Cats Contest - Pictures!

2012-02-15T00:01:00.010-05:00

What am I saying?

There are few things cuter than kittens. They are cuddly, playful, innocent, and most of the time -- sweet (not counting certain demonic felines). Perhaps that's why there are entire sites dedicated to pictures of them doing odd things. I'm a cat person myself. I even write characters who are catlike.

Crazy captions that explain what cats might be up to are what make a site like LolCats such a fun place to hang out. Today, I have a group of images for you. The goal is to pick at least one image and write a caption for it. What might the kitten be saying or doing?

I'll do my best to pick one as a winner, who will get a download of choice from my backlist. Check here for the list of books you can choose. http://kayelleallen.com/Books.html

Ready? Here are the entries. (Instructions repeated below)

#1

Okay -- now that you've seen the pictures, here's what to do. Pick a number, write a caption in the comments, and then pick out the book you'd like if you win. I'll announce the winners in the evening on Fri, 2/17. You are welcome to email me to provide your contact info, rather than leaving it on the blog. Send it to kayelle.allenATyahooDOTcom. (FYI - if you write out your email in this fashion on the blog, it is less likely to be picked up by spambots and recognized as an email address). I'll email you your book in pdf format (unless you request otherwise). Once more, that booklist: http://kayelleallen.com/Books.html
- - -

About the Author
Kayelle Allen is an award-winning, multi-published author. Her heroes and heroines include badass immortals, warriors who purr, and agents who find...well, the unfindable. And sometimes (shh!) make them disappear again. She is known for unstoppable heroes, uncompromising love, and unforgettable passion. You can find her on the web in these places:
Homeworld http://kayelleallen.com
Facebook http://facebook.com/kayelleallen.author
Twitter http://twitter.com/kayelleallen
Blog http://kayelleallen.blogspot.com

Happy Valentines Day!

2012-02-14T08:19:00.000-05:00

Below, in a sweet snippet from my Eclipse Heat title, Quincy’s Woman, Lucy and Quincy have quarreled and Lucy decides a valentine may help her make up.

I hope you enjoy!

Happy Valentines Day, Everyone!

Gem

WEB / FB / Twitter

Excerpt Monday - Queen of Hearts

2012-02-13T00:01:00.003-05:00

Queen of Hearts by Mary Quast

Striking a pose left her breathless. A red ribbon wrapped around his black top hat, resting at an angle over his right eye. The shoulders of his tuxedo coat accented his broad shoulders. The coat opened to reveal a red vest, blue bow tie and black shirt. Josh stood with his feet wide apart, black tails of his coat hung behind legs clad in black. He wore fingerless red and black gloves with one hand resting on a carved rabbit head on his white cane. His other hand was fisted at his side with tension.

Lifting her eyes back to his face, Josh's eyes bore into her soul with need and desire. His jaw was taunt, until his lips slowly slide into a sexy smile.

When Josh spotted Jenny standing next to Tracie he saw the flush in her face and enjoyed the moment of watching her eyes travel across his body. He imagined feeling her eyes and fingers on his body without clothing. Taking a moment to admire his Queen of Hearts, she was incredibly sexy.

Black leather boots fit tight up to her knees. Her risqué gown was black velvet, trimmed in white satin with red hearts on her bodice. The long part of the gown was open in the front along with the skirt hiding what most desperately wanted in the shadows of the material. Jenny's hair was pulled back tight with a crown of crystals upon her head. She wore makeup and red lipstick fit for the queen. Resting her weight on one leg, holding a glass of champagne in one hand, she looked like true royalty.

His, yes, tonight and forever, she would be his.

With determined strides he crossed the room; his eyes never leaving hers. Josh noticed her lips part. Ruby red lips simply desiring to be kissed.

"You made it!" Tracie laughed. "The costume is so you. You’re such a Mad Hatter."

Josh stopped so close to Jenny he could feel her heat. He tipped his hat to the ladies but only focused on one. He carefully took the champagne from Jenny.

"Well, I'm mad," handing the glass to Tracie, he raised an eyebrow at Jenny.

Her lips parted as if she was going to speak but Josh decided not to let a word escape. He moved forward placing one hand firmly on her back and pulled her close. With the other hand he cupped her head and brought his lips down on hers. She tasted so good, he could certainly get used to kissing her every day...all day. Her lips parted allowing her tongue to dance with his.

He felt her body wilt slightly as she let out a moan when his lips left hers for a moment. His grip tightened on her.

Queen of Hearts is a FREE READ for the month of February.

READ IT NOW

Cupid's Choice Bog Hop at ShapeShifter Seductions

2012-02-11T03:19:00.003-05:00

Here's the first few paragraphs of my post for the Cupid's Choice Blog Hop.
~~~

The Were-Huntress, Cupid's Victim

Like background music, Selakiah smelled the woman's werewolf lover. The smiling blue-haired barista placed a second cup of Cappuccino, sprinkled with cinnamon, before her.

Without taking her gaze off Zuquotti, the mercenary-for-hire werebeast striding toward the coffee shop from across the street -- not for a fraction of a second, Selakiah thanked the young woman, then lifted the cup and took a small sip.

"Delicious," she praised.

"You're new in town. Planning on staying in our fair Talbot's Peak for awhile?" the barista chattily asked.

There weren't that many customers. Selakiah assumed it was because the lunch crowd had departed. Even though, shapeshifters and supernaturals were the main population of this off-the-beaten-track town in Montana, many of them appeared to have regular jobs and careers. So she'd observed the past three days.

"Depends," she answered. "I'm a working girl...as in private investigator," Selakiah added because of her snow bunny outfit, her generously displayed cleavage.
~~~

More at ~ shapeshifterseductions.blogspot.com/2012/02/shapeshifter-seductions-cupids-choice.html ~
~~~~~~

~ Have a Magickal Valentine's Day ~

Savanna

Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance ~

Forbidden Pleasures, Forgiven Desires

2012-02-08T00:01:00.003-05:00

Peter was an assertive man, in complete control of his life and work. But in his closest relationships he was a natural submissive, and he had been searching for a dominant partner for as long as he could remember. Dissatisfied with his relationships, he had sought the services of a professional Mistress. Lisa enjoyed her work as a sadistic Dominatrix, exploiting his masochism and they soon became good friends. It seemed as if he had everything he needed, and his search was over. Then he met Suzy and fell in love with her, they were brought together by a quirk of fate. She had her own agenda, but there was something unspoken, something below the surface that drew them together, but would she love him? and if she did, would he be able to live a life denying his need to be dominated?

Forbidden Pleasures, Forgiven Desires is out now from House of Erotica.

It is available from Amazon UK, Amazon US, All Romance eBooks and many, many more.

Excerpt:

He kissed her mound of Venus and using his tongue with a feather light touch, he slowly traced the line between her outer lips from the tip of her vulva all the way down the length of her labia. Then slowly he moved his tongue up and down, caressing the outer lips, he gently began prising the lips apart as if he were trying to open the sensitive petals of a delicate flower. She whimpered softly as he gained that intimate access, and drank from the juices of her passion, and like a cat lapping up cream, he was scooping up her precious nectar, burrowing his tongue deeper inside her and along the moist furrow of her sensitive channel.

She groaned and shuddered again as his tongue continued its sensual and meticulous exploration of her inner lips, he could feel the tiny spasms in the side walls of her cunt gripping his tongue as he was coaxing them apart, and as he probed deeper, sending her into spasms of ecstasy, he guided his tongue along the full extent of her labia, but every time he was within reach of her clitoris he would stop and continue his delightful teasing. Her heart was pounding and her heavy breathing was interspersed with sighs and groans of pleasure as he continued down until he had almost reached her anus. With his hands beneath her he gently prised her cheeks open. She shrieked and gasped as he moved his tongue and began rimming her sphincter.

The tension was becoming unbearable, she cried out shaking her head from side to side, desperate for that touch that would take her over the edge and give her the orgasm she desperately needed. She needed him to reach her nubbin, she was aching for him to take it between his lips and suck it hard, the way she wanted to suck his cock, and she was becoming frantic with lust.

Her sighs and groans were accompanied by a desperate writhing, as she fought against her natural instinct to grab him by the hair, and pull him forcefully into the core of her lust to assuage her craving, but she resisted the urge and struggled with the rapturous intensity of his slow and deliberate teasing. Again he moved his tongue along the full length of her, sucking and drinking her juices, and as he moved higher, his top lip brushed against the exposed tip of her clitoris, and she cried out in ecstasy.

By now her libido was in overdrive, her secret, hidden fantasies were coming alive, her imagination was running riot, making them more intricate. She felt as if she were outside of her body watching him surrendering to her, taking her pleasure from him as he gave himself to her, and as she exploited him with her thoughts, she cried out and she could feel her body trembling involuntarily, under the excruciating torment and tension that was building up within her...

Tasty Tuesday - Amaretto Brownies

2012-02-07T00:01:00.001-05:00

I love finding yummy recipes using some of my favorite ingredients... that is anything with chocolate!

Now that Valentine's Day is coming, I thought of this particular one. I highly recommend making with your honey.

Nothing is better than having fun together in the kitchen!

Amaretto Brownies

1 1/2 sticks butter 1/4 tsp. salt

6 oz/ semi-sweet chocolate 1 1/2 c. nuts chopped pecans & walnuts mixed

3 whole eggs 1/3 c. amaretto liqueur

1 1/3 c. sugar

3/4 c. flour

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Grease a 9X13 inch baking dish. melt butter in microwave. Add chocolate and stir continuously with spoon until melted. Add eggs and sugar. Stir well. Add flour and salt. Stir well. Add pecan and walnut mix. Stir well. Spread into prepared pan. Bake for 30-35 minutes. Cool. When cool, poke with fork. Pour amaretto over brownies. Refrigerate overnight. Makes 24 servings.

Now get cooking!

Short Stories from Erotic Autor Kris Andersson

2012-02-03T00:01:00.002-05:00

An excellent collection of three short stories

with gay themes from well-known

erotic author Kris Andersson.

The stories include:

While the Wife’s Away: When the boss suggests an evening meeting at his home and makes it quite clear that his wife is away for the night, you can guarantee that there will be more than statistics and spreadsheets on the agenda – and by the end of the night a new sort of business partnership has been created…

Masters and Servants: It’s hard losing your job – and even harder looking for something new. But just how far will one man go to impress the boss? From steamy encounters in the office to lust in the potting shed, this is one job search that proves especially stimulating!…

The Sin of Father Anthony: When a new priest arrives in town, one lapsed Catholic decides it’s time to start attending Mass again – but he has more than absolution on his mind as he uses his girlfriend to get closer to the true object of his desire…

While the Wife’s Away and Other Stories is out now from House of Erotica.

It is available from Amazon UK, Amazon US, All Romance eBooks and many, many more.

Excerpt:

As I walked into the room he smiled, that smile I had seen the first time we met, the smile that had led me to his home tonight.
He was dressed as I had fantasised he would be – black suit, crisp white shirt, black tie, even the black patent shoes.
He held a glass of red wine in his hand but placed it on the coffee table as I approached.
No need to talk this time, no time for questions and answers. I simply moved towards him, placed my hands on his shoulders and then pulled him towards me, my hand moving up to feel his neck and the back of his head as we started to kiss and his arms encircled me.

I'd somehow known that it would come to this, even though we had only met 24 hours earlier in rather more formal surroundings.
He’d welcomed me into that panelled room, a sophisticated space for our first meeting, but the way he looked at me, just a flicker of recognition that promised far more than we were there for, suggested there was something not on the formal agenda that would have to be addressed pretty quickly and as we shook hands, the hold lingered for just a second longer than required, as though our fingers already wanted to be better acquainted.
He was considerably shorter than me but stockier too, the bulky frame of a man past his prime perhaps but that didn’t bother me because I’d always enjoyed sex with men who knew what they wanted from years of experience.

OTHER BOOKS BY KRIS ANDERSON.

When In Rome...

2012-02-01T00:01:00.001-05:00

Tea at my house.

Before we had children, my hubby and I had the privilege of traveling, and we got to see some interesting places in the world. We enjoyed Rome and Naples in Italy, and also saw the town of Aviano, nestled far to the north. Trying new food was adventurous, especially when you couldn't understand the menu. One thing we always got was tea with breakfast.

The hotels where we stayed all came with breakfast served in the salon. We were in Rome on one of our last days, and the way they served tea was different from everywhere we'd been. At this hotel, they poured hot tea and hot milk into your cup at the same time, with a pot in each hand. The tea was incredibly good. Neither of us had ever had better back in the US. With our guidebook in hand, we managed to ask what kind of tea the hotel was serving. The waiter understood us, and with one finger in the air for us to wait, said, "I go see."

Hubby and I got out a notebook so we could write down the name of the tea and find out if we could buy some before we headed home. The doughnuts there were nothing like here, either. They were heavier, more like a thick pastry than a cake. I've never had anything similar anywhere else, and wish I could say I learned the secret, but alas -- that never happened.

But the tea... that's where the fun part of this story comes in.

The Coloseum in Rome.

The waiter returned after a few minutes. He bowed at our table, all full of smiles and with a wise expression. "The tea" -- he told us -- "iss called the leep-ton." Leep-ton... Lipton?! Hubby and I started laughing.

As it turns out, the tea was the loose leaf type, and I learned how to make it in a ceramic pot, let it steep, and enjoy it that way to this day, many years later. I no longer drink it with milk, except on rare occasions. Not that I don't like it that way -- I prefer it with milk -- but milk robs tea of all its antioxidant power. Too bad. But, when in Rome... well, you know how the rest of that goes.
---
About the Author

When Inspiration Strikes

2012-01-31T06:03:00.000-05:00

I was thinking about inspiration. As an author ideas come from a variety of things. Anything can spark an idea that can be put into a novel. For instance I had a candy craving and I also saw a woman who had afro.

The two ideas I had I worked into a series I am working on. In book two of my series there is a candy shop that the hero and heroine of the book frequent. They both have a sweet tooth. The candy shop owner will eventually have his own story and get to fulfill the idea spark I had from craving candy.

In the series I will use the fro idea for a supper club where the main characters go to. The owner of the super club will be getting her own book. I will be writing in a sixties theme night using my afro idea spark. :)

Inspirations for ideas are all around. Taking something that happens in the everyday life then using it create a concept is a fun thing to do. The unexpected can lead to so much more. Any little thing can give you an idea spark, which will be your concept for the next book.

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

Blog: http://www.taigecrenshaw.com/blog
Chat Group: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/crenshawcafe
Newsletter: http://www.taigecrenshaw.com/newsletterandgroups.shtml
Free Reads Site: http://www.satinnotes.com/

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.

Guest blogger: Kris Andersson

2012-01-30T00:01:00.000-05:00

I have always felt that being a writer is something like being a parent…you should love all your children but, try though you might, there will always be one who is a particular favourite.

In the case of my first trio of stories, While the Wife’s Away, I must confess that I really do have a favourite, perhaps because it was the one I nurtured, developed and saw take on a life of its own over the greatest period of time.

I first had the idea for what was to become The Sin of Father Anthony – a deliciously naughty title I hope you’d agree – around 20 years ago, though at that point it was going to be the story of a middle aged woman seducing a young priest.

It was only many years later as I started to concentrate more of my time on writing adult fiction that I realized the story would work just as well in a gay setting – in fact, it works even better.

At its heart, of course, is the concept of the celibacy of the Catholic Priesthood and although I’m sure there are many priests who follow their vows of chastity scrupulously there must be just as many more who succumb to the natural urges that every man experiences – and that was the starting point for my young hero and his sexual adventures.

It’s the classic story of forbidden fruit, the desire for the thing we know we shouldn’t have but which we cannot resist and will do anything to attain.

But the thing that surprised me the most was the way that, as I started to write, I discovered a story that really did have a life of its own.

The old priest’s relationship with his lusty housekeeper and the narrator’s nights with a busty choir mistress just seemed to develop naturally as the original simple narrative – no more than just one sex scene and no back story – began to develop.

The greatest shock though came when my young storyteller decided to hitch hike to Scotland – not something I’d ever considered for him in the first outline - and was picked up by a tattooed trucker.

I still don’t really understand where the image of a big butch, hairy chested bloke emerging from a bathroom in nothing but stocking and suspenders came from but it’s one that turned me on and I hope it will do the same for you too.

The image of St Sebastian, punctured by arrows as he smiles down on the act of love below him is, I admit, my little tribute to the great Derek Jarman and his classic film Sebastiane.

I have had one complaint that The Sin of Father Anthony is blasphemous and should never have been written.

It came from somebody who claims to be a devout Christian and church goer – at which point I felt obliged to inquire why somebody of such strong convictions and faith was reading adult fiction in the first place!

I suspect his outrage was fuelled by the fact that he actually found the story extremely stimulating and sexually provoking…and I hope you will too.

*****

While the Wife’s Away is a collection of three gay short stories from well-known erotic author Kris Andersson.

Available now:

Amazon UK|Amazon|All Romance Ebooks|Barnes & Noble

While the Wife's Away: When the boss suggests an evening meeting at his home and makes it quite clear that his wife is away for the night, you can guarantee that there will be more than statistics and spread sheets on the agenda - and by the end of the night a new sort of business partnership has been created.

Masters and Servants: It's hard losing your job - and even harder looking for something new. But just how far will one man go to impress the boss? From steamy encounters in the office to passion in a scenic lift and shower room to lust in the potting shed, this is one job search that proves especially stimulating!

The Sin of Father Anthony: When a new priest arrives in town, one lapsed Catholic decides it's time to start attending Mass again - but he has more than absolution on his mind as he uses his girlfriend to get closer to the true object of his desire and give him a night he’ll never forget. From lusty housekeepers and choir mistresses to a hairy trucker with a taste for stockings and suspenders, this is a story packed with sexual thrills for a young man on a personal mission to satisfy his gay passions.

*****

About Kris: Kris Andersson is an award-winning writer - and occasional actor - who specialises in gay erotica. His work has been described as both pacy and steamy. His current titles include While The Wife’s Away – a collection of three stories - Acts of Passion and A Special Gift. A fourth title is expected to be published very soon and will take Kris in a very different direction, a gay love story set against the horrors of the First World War and its aftermath.

Sunday with ShapeShifter Seductions ~ Blue Water Dragon

2012-01-28T22:17:00.003-05:00

Pic from ~ desktopnexus.com

From SHAPESHIFTER SEDUCTIONS ~

Sunday howls and yowls, shapeshifter lovers.

When I learned it was the Chinese Year of the Dragon, and not just any dragon, but what some are calling the Blue Water Dragon, I entered a slight state of shock. Why, you might ask... then again, it may be of no particular interest to you.

Still... here it is. In my 2012 erotic romance fantasy, WHEN A GOOD ANGEL FALLS, published on August 13, 2008, there is a secondary character, Dragon Leader, Xanuvvi, who is a blue water dragon.

If you interested in an excerpt from the book that stars Xanuvvi, click on over to TITLE MAGIC.

For today's flash scene, of course, I couldn't resist letting you meet Xanuvvi, Blue Water Dragon Leader, prior to his appearance in When a Good Angel Falls.
~~~~~~

Xanuvvi, Blue Water Dragon

"Why must you leave our realm?"

Queen Crysuthess spoke in her feminine pouty voice. However, Xanuvvi heard her true concern over his leaving, and her wish they remain lovers.

"You know of my alliance with Earth's angelic guardians, my sweetling." Xanuvvi used the power of his voice to stroke her. "The one called Zerr Dann has contacted recently. His mission is crucial to saving us from the dark siders as well as bringing about the salvation of humanity and Earth."

"It is true those of evil intent have already damaged the dimensional wall between our worlds with their use of death-wave weaponry. The fools," she contemptuously added with a dismissive lift of her shoulder. "And yet, how will you fare? There a few dragonkind remaining."

Xanuvvi caressed a strand of her hair, then twined it around his finger-claw, well knowing his touch would soothe the Queen. "Thessi," he addressed her with his pet name for her, "the gathering has begun. There are already ten Rainbow Dragonicas residing at the great caldera -- singing to alleviate Mother Gai's pain, and balance her forthcoming land changes. They are welcoming my presence."

Her sigh could have caused a path through the sea, it burst out with such keening force. "I know it is a matter of positive fate, Nuvvi. Yet... I depend upon your constant strength and wisdom."

Even though, they were alone, she left unsaid what they'd both come to crave, the impassioned strength of their lust-rolling together. He knew why. Their feelings for each other could never be fulfilled.

She would mature and desire only one of her kind for a mate. While he, having glimpsed his far future, being the magickal beast he was, knew another was destined to be his loving mate.

"If you wish for the force we call Good to ascend, and bring the harmonics of benevolence to our realm, then I must leave, my Thessi. I must use my powers to assist humankind, to assist Zerr Dann in his divine mission."

She didn't speak, and he felt her deep contemplations. Her small hand stroked the clawed hand he'd placed on her lovely little shoulder. "One more night... my Nuvvi. Is that too great a wish?"

His answer was to stroke the back of his claw along the sensitive skin of her neck, as she carnal-adored.

***

Spiraling furiously while also whirling the leviathan-sized length of his body, Xanuvvi pierced the dimensional fabric. Since he could not afford to enter the realm of Earth at the thinnest point, the Great Pyramid as it was known in Egypt -- oh, sweet memories of Queen Cleopatra and the grace of her hands upon his scales -- because of what he called the robot-zombie guards of the Illuminatti.

Instead, Xanuvvi penetrated as close to his dragon allies as possible. Forced to hold his breath because of the slime-heavy, sulfurous water of the Yellowstone caldera, he pumped his tail like a rising Loch Ness monster.

Once he finally speared through the boiling nastiness that passed for a form of water, he continued his momentum. Xanuvvi prepared to summon his magick. It had taken the remainder of his physical strength to remain airborne in the dusk, overcast sky.

Even so, he refused to gasp in draughts of the wintry air for two reasons. One, a dragon leader had his pride. Two, despite the utterly ridiculous connection between sulfur and dragons on Earth, he despised the taste of the odiferous mineral, and the thick muck still clung to his muzzle.

Unfurling his wings, Xanuvvi spread them wide to dry the webbing rapidly. A snort of fire from his nostrils would do the job, but that would foil his plan to stay as inconspicuous as possible.

To keep himself aloft, he cast forth a matrix bubble to float within. Getting his bearings, even if he was spotted, was crucial. He wanted to wing with all due haste to the Rainbow's stronghold once he discovered the location.

What, hey! Xanuvvi closed his eyes inhaling wave after delicious wave of the most seductive female scents. Trapped in the heavy moist air, the potent, in-heat perfume responsible for stiffening his breeding staff was being carried on the rising night wind.

But not merely female, no, these mating fragrances belonged to shapeshifter women, most of them wolven. If his nostrils were to be trusted, a whole thriving colony of shapeshifters lived nearby. If his magickal senses were to be believed, there were also many breeds of supernaturals living among them.

Stunned to his fiery watery core, Xanuvvi snapped his eyes open, and stared in that direction. The Rainbows did not expect his immediate presence, and he could mentally commune with their priest -- offer an explanation.

The lure impossible to resist, he aimed his conjured bubble and soon rode a wind-stream toward the colony. Both good and evil, the hero and villain, the drama of the colony played out in the energies he witnessed before his mind's eye.

To his great joy, Xanuvvi also heard the rippling music of a pristine lake, rare on Earth. He could cleanse himself, make a decent appearance, introduce himself to one of his stature. With that end in mind, he sent forth a seeking fire, a frequency that would find the leader, one of the highest nature.

***

Seized with the yen to view the night sky, to howl and speak his secrets to the moon, Dante bounded up the spiral staircase that led from the top floor of his new supperclub, the Midnight Stardust, to the small hidden gazebo atop his subterranean club. He'd recently created the romantic setting for him and his beloved Kitty.

She had adored it, and they'd spent precious time together smooching in each other arms, and gazing at the starry midnight sky through the lacing of branches above them. Now, he needed alone moments -- time to let his fur down, or out.

The supperclub had steadily gained in patrons, and the dance lessons were especially popular. Satisfied that all was going smoothly with his customers and crew, Dante stepped outside, and drew in a lungfuls of the cold crisp air.

The next instant, he spun around, his neck hair bristling, sprouting. Dante growled, the warning from the pit of his belly.

The huge dragon standing about thirty feet away smiled benignly, and didn't move. "Shall we introduce ourselves? I am Dragon Leader, Xanuvvi, of the Blue Water species."

His voice boomed yet somehow the timbre matched the sound of the wind.

With his instincts giving quarter, and sensing no immediate danger, Dante eased his stance. "Dante, werewolf. Is there something I can do for you?"

"Perhaps, shapeshifting lessons are in order. Gaining a human form would be of benefit to my mission on Earth. Perhaps also, you can explain why there is such an abundance of delightful feminine fragrances here."

Dante grinned, his confidence returning. "Tell you what, Dragon Leader, if you can reduce your size I'll give you the grand tour."

"Splendid. That I can achieve. Xanuvvi will do as a form of address. May I call you Dante?"

"Yeah, sure thing." Dante watched as Xanuvvi slowly morphed to a far less imposing height. "Hey, how about this Year of the Dragon," he bantered. "Want to fill me in on all the details?"
~~~~~~

~ Have a Magickal and Miraculous New Year of the Dragon ~

Savanna

Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance ~
~~~

Cowboy Love

2012-01-27T11:03:00.002-05:00

Feeling the cold outside?

Turn up the heat~

Curl up with a cowboy tonight!

Gem's Place (blog) / Website / FB / Twitter

13 Reasons Why I Read Romance

2012-01-26T00:01:00.005-05:00

There are many reasons to read Romance, but here are thirteen I think you'll enjoy.

I read for the heroes.

1. Falling in love is a wonderful feeling, and watching someone fall in love is the next best thing.

2. Seeing a hero and heroine overcome conflict and end up together at the end of a story makes me feel good.

3. The world is full of sad stories and disappointments, but the happy ending of a Romance book is something I can count on.

4. There is a subgenre within Romance for any kind of book I want to read, from Science Fiction to historical, paranormal to suspense, and everything in between.

5. I like reading about wounded alpha heroes whose heroines help them get back on the horse and get going again.

6. Tough and sassy heroines who kick ass and take names make my day, and my favorite Romances always feature them.

7. What could be finer than a Romance set in the Highlands of Scotland?

8. I grew up reading Science Fiction, and never understood why the book stopped just when the story got to the sexy part -- SciFi Romance is one of my favorite genres.

9. Romances are often part of a bigger story -- battling a monster, saving the world, defeating prejudice, healing a family -- and they make the bigger picture worth more because they showcase true love.

10. A romantic heroine who realizes her own worth, power, and strength, and who finds herself working side by side with a man she trusts are priceless.

11. One of the most intriguing subgenres of Romance is called M/M, or male male, and features two heroes. I think if a little testosterone is good, a lot must be awesome.

12. Is there anything sexier than a vampire who falls in love, and must overcome his clawing, innate hungers in order to woo the mortal he loves?

13. The heat level of a Romance can be whatever I want it to be, because within all those varying subgenres is a level of sensuality that is right for me. They can be as sweet -- or as hot -- as I want to read.

Why do you read Romance?

---

Humpday Help - A Little Indulgence!

2012-01-25T00:01:00.002-05:00

It's the middle of the week... Happy Humpday... and you might find yourself needing a little bit of help to "get over the hump". My advice: A Little Indulgence!

Invite your girlfriends over for an evening of papering and homemade facials.

Relax in comfy-cozies.

Offer red wine and chocolate.

Prepare for some serious gossip.

Here are the simple recipes from my grandmother who stopped aging at 60.

Problem skin: mix oatmeal with water to form a paste.

Normal to oily skin: egg white

Dry skin: egg yolk

After deciding on the right treatment for your skin type, spread the mixture on our face and allow to dry. Rinse thoroughly with cool water. Follow up with your favorite moisturizer or toner.

Cherish this time with the girls. Get silly, have some laughs, and relish every moment. You will find your stress level decreased and you'll not only be ready to deal with the rest of the week but look great while doing it!

If Wishes Were Husbands

2012-01-24T00:01:00.000-05:00

Description

When Rachel invents the perfect husband, she thrills her friends with tales of his wonderful cooking, enthusiasm for housework and amazing sex! Until her invention takes on a life of its own and her fantasy husband appears on her sofa. Suddenly married to a man with only three things on his mind, she finds out why you should be careful what you wish for.

Elizabeth Kyne has created a brilliant romantic comedy in the tradition of Bridget Jones.

Rachel re-invents herself when she moves back to her home town of Aylesbury; with a new job, a new house and a new haircut. But people’s eyes glaze over when she tells them about her life as a forty-something singleton who works in accounts. So why not spice things up a bit? Why not tell her new hairdresser and her new friends about her fantastic husband? Everyone wants to hear about Darren, the man who cooks her amazing meals, cleans the house and takes her to bed for orgasmic sex three times a night! What a shame he doesn't exist…

…Until she comes home one night and finds Darren sitting in her lounge. And everything she said becomes true: from his sensuous food to his skill in bed. So real, that she believes it.

Not as if living with a perfect is man is… well, perfect…

She can’t find anything because every time she puts something down, he tidies it away. Then there’s the shock of the credit card bill from buying all that gourmet food. Not to mention the sex! Three times a night is great at first, but sometimes all she wants at the end of the day is a sandwich and some sleep.

Then Rachel decides that Darren has to go - and that’s when her troubles really begin.

Elizabeth Kyne takes the absurdities of the modern woman's quest for love and turns them into an enjoyable romp. She finds the comic in everyday situations, from buying a dress to experimenting with hair dye at home. While, underneath, she comments on the pressure to find the perfect husband and how that quest is doomed for us all.

This is a full-length novel which comes in at 340 pages in trade paperback (84,000 words approx.).

If Wishes Were Husbands is available in eBook format, from all good retailers including Amazon UK, Amazon US, Smashwords, iBooks (UK), iBooks (US), All Romance eBooks and Barnes & Noble (Nook).

The trade paperback can be purchased from Amazon UK and Amazon US.

Excerpt:

There was something different about it when I walked into the hallway. The light was on in the lounge and there was a smell that wasn't quite right - sort of perfumy. I stood for a moment, looking at the soft glow coming from underneath the lounge door, trying to remember if I'd left the table lamp on. The police say to always leave a light on in your house when you're out to deter burglars. Except, I'd just taken on a mortgage and was trying to keep the electricity bill down.

I turned the handle of the door and entered.

The glow wasn't coming from the table lamp, but from a collection of candles on the coffee table. I froze. I would never risk burning down my new house by leaving lit candles unattended - not as if I'd lit them in the first place.

I tensed at the sound of creaking upholstery. A man's head poked up from the sofa. "Hello Rachel," he said. "Had a nice time?"

I screamed.

Fear, anger and panic inside of me all at once, scrambling my ability to think straight. I turned left and right and left again like a trapped wild animal, searching for something - anything - I could use as a weapon. I grabbed the tiffany lamp from the phone table next to the radiator and held it to my chest - a barrier between me and him.

"Whatever's the matter?" He got up from the sofa and approached me.

My heart racing, my breath panting; I backed off and bumped up against the lounge door I'd just closed behind me. The cord of the lamp snagged tight at the socket. I was ready to yank it free from the plug and beat him to death with it if I had to. "Who are you?"

"It's me."

He took another step. I flinched.

"It's Darren."

Whirls of confusion made me dizzy. "No." I shook my head. "No, no, no, no, no, no."

"Are you all right, darling?"

"You're not real." I said it more to convince myself.

"Rachel, what are you talking about?" He smiled - an amused smile. "Of course I'm real - look at me."

He stood with his arms out wide. He was handsome and slim with a full head of black hair swept across his forehead and a toned body beneath his clothes. He was tall enough to be manly - almost six foot - but not too tall as to dominate me. He was the type of man my fantasy Darren might be - if he were real.

"How did you get in here?"

"I live here," he said.

"No. This is my house. I paid for it. My name's on the deeds."

"Rachel darling, it's our house. We bought it, remember? Are you feeling all right?"

He moved as if to get closer, but I lifted the lamp higher, ready to take a swing at him. It tugged at the flex again.

"Rachel--"

"Stay there."

Stuck between the need to protect myself and my instinct to run, I tried to think. He'd got into my house somehow, he knew my name and knew about Darren somehow. No ordinary burglar could do that - surely? A conman could go through my rubbish and find out stuff about me, but only a few people knew about Darren.

It was a wind up. It had to be a wind up. God, let him be a wind up, and not some mad psycho rapist.

"Did someone put you up to this?" I said.

"Rachel, what are you talking about?"

He wasn't going to admit to it. Fine. But this prank had gone beyond the point where it was funny; not that it had been funny in the first place.

"Don't move." I threatened him with the tiffany lamp again.

He obeyed.

Keeping the lamp in one hand, I used the other to delve into my handbag. I rifled past hairbrush, purse, petrol receipts, half-used tissues, until I found my phone. With hands shaking and heart pumping - not taking my eye off the stranger for a moment - I called Sheila.

It rang. Good, her mobile was still on. It kept ringing. I willed her to pick it up.

At last she answered. "Yeah?" A sleepy voice down the phone line.

"Sheila? It's Rachel." My voice trembling. "I don't know how you did it - ha ha, very funny - but you can tell him to leave now."

"Wwwhat?" she slurred. "Rachel? What're you talking about?"

"The man you snuck in pretending to be Darren."

"What? Rach, Darren's not real." A heavy sigh. "I'm tired, hon. We'll talk about it tomorrow."

"Sheila, don't--" I shouted.

--hang up.

The line went dead. I hit re-dial. It went straight to voicemail.

Bugger.

The Darren-man was still looking at me. Like a dog looks at his master when it can't understand why the human is behaving strangely. "Why don't you come and sit on the sofa," he said in a soothing voice. "I can pour you a glass of wine and then we can make love."

"No!" I screamed, loud enough to wake the neighbours.

He was larger than me, stronger than me. If he attacked me, I could fight back, but he would win. I started to wheeze. I put my hand out to the doorframe, leaned against it, trying to slow my breath. It brought back playground memories of childhood asthma. I hadn't had an episode for years and I wasn't going to be flawed by it as an adult. I willed my breathing to slow.

I told myself he wasn't going to attack me because it was just a joke. Some male escort Sheila had booked while we were at the pub and given my spare key to during one of her many supposed trips to the toilet.

"Look," I said, gathering myself together. "I know you've gone to a lot of trouble, and you're really impressive, but I haven't got time for this now. You can tell Sheila you got me and we can have a laugh about it down the pub another time. But right now, I'm tired and I need some sleep because I'm starting a new job tomorrow. So, if you don't mind, I'm going to go to bed now and you're going to leave."

I left the sanctity of the doorframe and placed the lamp back on the phone table, keeping my eye on him all the time. Without my weapon, I was even more vulnerable, but he didn't make a move. If he'd been a burglar or a rapist, he would have taken his opportunity there and then. With relief, I knew at that moment, he was part of a practical joke. The man - whoever he really was - was a damn good actor, and that's all.

With added confidence, I walked right by him like I owned the place.

Damn it - I did own the place. Minus a £100,000 debt to the bank.

I caught a whiff of his cologne as I went past, mixed with his manly scent.

Tasty.

If I hadn't needed a decent night's sleep, I might've taken advantage of the practical joker to see how far he was prepared to take his little act. I kept on walking, through to the kitchen, where I ran myself a cool refreshing glass of water. When I returned moments later, I found him gone. Thank goodness. Boy was I going to have words with Sheila when I next saw her.

In some ways, though, it was too bad. It was about time I gave my libido a workout. But - hey! - easy come, easy go.

I went upstairs to bed.

A Hero By Any Other Name

2012-01-23T08:00:00.001-05:00

So I started a new work in progress. Again. I've got about twelve in my wip file. I think I might have a problem, but that's a whole 'nother post.

When I start a new book, all my heroes are named John, and my heroines are Jane (my obsession with names beginning with J is a whole 'nother post as well) This is because my characters start talking, then I can figure out their names as I go. This particular book is book two of a sequel, so I already have hero #1 picked out. His name is Dean, and while I don't remember the process of picking out his name, the name evokes a certain image in my mind. Someone preppy. Neat, clean cut, organized and picky. Which is exactly how this character grew on the pages.

So this new wip hero tells me suddenly that his name is going to be Jay. I told him in no uncertain terms that this wouldn't work (his sister was already named in the previous book Falling Star as Jade, and what parents would name their kids Jay and Jade? Don't answer that.) But I liked the image that the name Jay evoked in my mind. A bit tough, a bit vulnerable.

Then it hit me that my sister's husband's name is Jay. And his middle name is Dean. So that's out (Hah! I win this round, unnamed hero!)

So he's back to John. Did I mention my obsession with J names?

I wrote my book Fine Print entirely, and even submitted it to a publisher back in 2009. To celebrate the completion of the novel, I bought my favorite author Sandra Brown's latest book and lo and behold, her MCs had the same names as mine. I couldn't bring myself to change Derek's name, so Julie became Kara. It took me a while to see her as Kara since I'd just spent months getting to know her as Julie.

Yes. A "J" name.

Maybe I think about this stuff too much, but each name means something to me. For example, I had a babysitter named Tori (Victoria). She was awful. I have horrible stories which I won't relate here, mostly because my mind has probably "enhanced" the memory and made her worse than she actually was. This is why I'll never have a heroine named Vicki, Victoria, Tori, or anything related. I did have an irritating woman named Victoria in my book PreView. I think she fills out that name perfectly.

My apologies to any Victoria who reads this. I'm sure you're all lovely women. Be nice to children.

So back to my hero. I'm so picky with this name thing, I might have half the book written before I name the poor guy. I need a name that goes well with his last name (Graham) and one that embodies his personality as I know it so far (ex-cop, oldest brother, protective, private).

Any suggestions?

~ Alanna Coca

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Six Sentence Sunday - Handcuffs & Silk

2012-01-22T00:01:00.000-05:00

"Beautiful." She ached to touch his skin. "I need to see more."

He began unbuttoning his shirt but she stopped him, stepped closer and took the buttons in her fingers. Working slowly, she admired every inch of skin revealed with her movements before caressing the smooth, tanned skin warm under her palm. His eyes never left the floor as she slid his shirt off broad shoulders. No scars, no tattoos, only perfection spread taut over impressive muscles.

A 1 Night Stand Story

Stephanie "Stiff" Johnson, is a tough Las Vegas cop who many men find too intimidating to date. Steph begins to wonder if something is wrong with her so she turns to Madame Eve to find a man who could be the yin to her yang, even if it's just for one night.

Hunter Morgan left behind years of living as a sub to a female Domme in New York. Upon return to his hometown, he questions whether he wants to continue with the "lifestyle" or find something different. Turning to 1 Night Stand, he hopes to sample his options.

A simple one-night stand opens a whole new sensuous world to both.
Genre: Contemporary romance, erotic romance, BDSM

BUY NOW

Sexy Re-telling of Snow White by Lucy Felthouse

2012-01-21T00:01:00.006-05:00

A wedding, an evil plan, a love story and a sacrifice

are the order of the day in this modern retelling of Snow White and the Huntsman.

Susie White and her stepmother-to-be have never seen eye to eye, despite all of Susie’s best efforts to be friendly. Eager not to spoil her father’s happiness, Susie still agrees to be bridesmaid at their wedding. When the big day comes, she meets Louise’s right hand man, Scott. Susie had never believed in love at first sight until that moment. The pair hit it off, sharing a mutual dislike of Louise and her wicked ways. Their camaraderie quickly develops into something more, and they date in secret until it’s time for Susie to leave for University – and freedom. Unfortunately, Scott has an earth-shattering revelation, which means the two of them of them must work together to unravel Louise’s evil plan, before it’s too late.

BUY NOW

Excerpt:

I should have known my stepmother was up to something when she offered to help me move all my stuff to my University digs. It wasn’t like her to be civil, much less helpful, but I figured that she was happy I was moving hundreds of miles away, and therefore would do anything to make sure it happened as quickly as possible.

As my father’s only child, I’m the sole heir to White’s Bites, a massively profitable confectionary company based in Wiltshire, England. My stepmother had made no secret of the fact she resented that she wouldn’t get a stake in the business, should anything happen to my father. Of course, the reason for this was that my father knew the first thing the witch would do was put the business on the market to get her greedy little hands on the cash. I, on the other hand, loved White’s Bites and would continue to run it to the best of my ability.

We’d never seen eye to eye, my stepmother and I. However, it wasn’t the usual ‘child resents someone trying to replace their parent’ syndrome, it was her that resented me.

My mom had died of cancer when I was fifteen. My father and I were devastated, as you’d expect, but I’d always urged him to get on with his life. After all, it’s what mom would have wanted, and I certainly didn’t want my dad to be lonely when I got married and left home.

So, a couple of years later, when dad met Louise and they started dating, I was thrilled. He was happy, therefore so was I. Soon it became more serious and dad wanted me to meet her. I was excited, but nervous.

When the time came and Louise had walked into our house, I’d been in awe. Don’t get me wrong, my mom had been beautiful, but in a natural way, as if she didn’t realise, or care. But Louise clearly did. Her gorgeous hair was perfectly quaffed, and her attractive features were enhanced by expertly applied makeup. Her outfit looked like something from a fashion magazine. I managed to pull myself together before she saw me standing there, all slack-jawed and stupid-looking. Walking towards her, I’d held out a hand.

“Louise!” I’d said, beaming, “I’m so pleased to finally meet you. Dad’s told me so much about you.”

She’d smiled thinly and without any real emotion. “Charmed, I’m sure, Susan.” She’d shaken my hand gingerly, as though she was afraid she’d catch something. I’d half expected her to wipe her hand on her clothes afterwards.

“Oh please, call me Susie.” I’d said, ignoring her odd behaviour. I’d been eager to get on with the woman, knowing it would please my father. “Everyone does.”

Another tight-lipped smile. I’d tried hard to make conversation with her and make her feel comfortable in our home. But I never felt like I was succeeding. At first, I put it down to her being nervous or shy, but as weeks and months passed, I still never felt as though Louise warmed to me. I never bothered my father with my concerns. After all, as long as she liked him, what did it matter?

While Louise and my father were just dating, things weren’t too bad. They went to restaurants, the theatre, the cinema, and so on. I didn’t see her very often, and therefore didn’t have to put up with her frosty behaviour towards me.

Naturally, everything changed when dad told me he was going to ask Louise to marry him. He’d sat me down to break the news – fortunately – and I’d done my best to act delighted. Luckily, dad hadn’t noticed anything was amiss, and as he’d chatted about ceremonies, honeymoons and Louise moving in, a cold shiver had run up my back. This could not end well.

BUY NOW

Lucy Felthouse is a graduate of the University of Derby, where she studied Creative Writing. During her first year, she was dared to write an erotic story - so she did. It went down a storm and she's never looked back. Lucy has had stories published by Cleis Press, Constable and Robinson, House of Erotica, Noble Romance, Ravenous Romance, Summerhouse Publishing, Sweetmeats Press and Xcite Books. She is also the editor of Uniform Behaviour and Seducing the Myth. Find out more at http://www.lucyfelthouse.co.uk. You can also find her on Facebook and Twitter. You can also subscribe to her newsletter at: http://eepurl.com/gMQb9

Wild & Wonderful World of BDSM

2012-01-20T00:01:00.001-05:00

An erotic novel by bestselling author Justine Elyot.

In the internet age, it should be easy for like-minded fetishists to find and connect with each other. Or so Cherry thought. Her decision to enter the wild and wonderful world of BDSM leads her to some interesting and unexpected places. She soon finds herself on 'the scene' and her insatiable curiosity takes her to orgies, slave auctions and mansion houses full of trainee submissives, but where will she find her perfect dom? Will Cherry ever meet her match?

Meeting Her Match was released 12th January by Xcite Books,

and is available from Amazon UK and Amazon US, All Romance eBooks.

Excerpt:

A direct order. I can never defy one of those, and I didn’t want to anyway. His suit was well cut and, while he must have been in his forties at least, he had that still, calm air of authority that floored me and filled my dreams.

He stood, gesturing me up, and I followed him to the bar, where he bought me – without asking what I would like – a mineral water, plus a whisky for himself.

‘I don’t want to be accused of taking advantage of tipsiness,’ he told me, nudging the water glass down the polished bar top. ‘Now, let’s sort a few things out. You strike me as curious about certain aspects of human sexuality, am I right?’

I coughed into my glass, feeling as transparent as the crystal waters within.

‘Is it obvious?’

‘To me it is. Probably not to the world in general. How curious are you?’

‘Moderately.’

‘There’s nothing moderate about what I do … What’s your name?’

‘Cherry.’

‘Stuart.’

‘Pleased to meet you.’

‘Well, Cherry, I like to be master in my own bedroom, if you catch my drift. Does that interest you?’

I gulped. What should I say? I rather thought the fiery spreading blush on my face was saying it for me.

‘It might,’ I muttered.

‘Does it or doesn’t it? I don’t have time to waste.’

His stern tone caught me right between the thighs.

‘Yeah. I suppose it does,’ I admitted, a mite sulkily.

‘Good. Though I think we’ll need to discuss your tone, young lady.’

Oh my God, he was killing me. “Young lady”. I was positively pre-orgasmic, especially when he raised an eyebrow in a way that couldn’t say “you’re getting spanked” any louder or clearer.

‘Drink up,’ he ordered. ‘Are you here alone?’

‘No, with a friend.’

‘Good. You can tell her you’re going home with me, and that you’ll call her by eleven so that she knows you’re safe.’

‘I’ll … tell her that.’ I looked around the bar for her, finally locating her in a darkened alcove, snogging some guy with a beard like a King of Leon. Sex on fire indeed.

I passed on the message, slipping it between her and the hairy one like a credit card of information. Her reply was a swallowed grunt.

‘I’ll be at home then,’ I reminded her brightly, feeling a broad hand descend on my shoulder. SM Stuart was not about to let me get away. I had been hooked like an unsuspecting fish, and now I was in the net I wouldn’t get out until I was being sizzled over the flames of his fire.

‘Where do you live?’ he asked, yanking me backwards, away from the bar.

‘Near South Parade Pier.’

‘Good. Not too far.’

It wasn’t until we were in the taxi that the insane foolishness of the idea hit home. Taking a strange man home for kinky sex – how on earth would that stack up on the risk assessment form? Not well at all, I realised with a sickening lurch of the stomach.

But then he pulled me towards him and into a long, hard kiss, and the lurching became something else, something much sweeter and less easily dismissed, something that squeezed all of my good sense into a tiny ball and batted it down between my legs, which were trembling.

It was mad and it was stupid, but I wanted sex – real, good sex – so much that I was prepared to follow my cunt wherever it led me that night.

Stuart’s mouth was firm and hungry, and his hand landed with a wondrous heaviness on my thigh, edging up the hem of my skirt, kneading its way to heaven, regardless of the taxi driver.

Luckily, the ride was not long enough for him to reach my stocking tops. The skirt was mid-thigh when he paid the fare, helped me out of the cab, and escorted me, hand on elbow, up the path to my apartment block.

Once inside the door, he held me out at arm’s length and said, ‘You’re wearing stockings and suspenders, aren’t you?’

I nodded.

‘Sounds to me like you were out looking for somebody to take you home and fuck you. You don’t wear stockings if you don’t think they’ll be seen.’

‘They make me feel sexy,’ I defended myself.

‘You want to feel sexy because you want a good seeing-to, Cherry. Am I right?’

I chewed my lip, avoiding his eye.

‘Maybe.’

‘I’m right. And what kind of girl wants a good seeing-to, hmm?’

He pulled me closer, sliding one hand down my hip and around to pat a bum cheek. Oh, I could see where this was heading. And I liked it very, very much.

‘A bad girl,’ I said softly.

His lips quirked, and his hand fell a little harder on my quivering bottom.

‘That’s right, Cherry. A bad girl. And what do bad girls get?’

Good sex.

‘They get punished?’

‘Try adding a “sir” to that.’

‘They get punished, sir.’

‘Nice. And true. They do get punished. But first, since you’re dying to show off your naughty underwear, I want you to stand over by that chair and lift your skirt for me.’

He dropped my arm and nudged me back a couple of feet, so that I was in a good position for him to rake his eyes from my bob-cut hair to my strappy sandals. Standing with his arms folded and his brows gathered, he waited for me to follow the instruction.

I felt like laughing and shivering at the same time, but I did as I was told, turned up the hem of my skirt and lifted it coyly to my waist.

‘Oh yes, I see,’ he said. ‘Very nice. And do you call those knickers?’

I stared down at my shaking hands on the fabric. They weren’t exactly substantial, it was true. I was glad I hadn’t opted for the Spanx tonight after all – though, on second thoughts, they would at least have been appropriate.

The knickers I was wearing were tiny breaths of lacy air, patterned with glittery starbursts. I only knew they were there at all because they were soaking wet at the crotch. I wondered if the damp patch was visible. If not, it was certainly sniffable. I could smell myself all right.

‘Turn around,’ he said, and I was grateful to remove myself from the intense scrutiny and present my back view instead. The knickers weren’t thong-backed, but they stretched tightly across my rear, almost transparent, so that he would be able to follow each curve to its conclusion.

‘That’s a lovely bottom you have there,’ he commented, moving up behind me. ‘No, don’t let go of the skirt.’ He put a hand on my lacy cheeks and rubbed them slowly up and down. I let out a tiny moan, bending my spine infinitesimally forward to give him optimum access, hoping for a quick dip between my legs. ‘And one that needs a lot of attention, I think.’

He removed his hands and sat down in my armchair.

‘Now put your lovely bottom over my knee, Cherry, where it belongs.’

Christ, I was more turned on than I’d ever expected to be outside my horniest fantasies. For a dizzying moment, I thought this was worth any risk, even though my rational mind knew that only a brain-dead, sex-crazed zombie would entertain that thought.

I drooped over his lap, trying to work out how to get over it in the most dignified manner, though God knows what any remnants of dignity were doing in my fevered brain at that point. Unable to compute logistics, I kind of threw myself across the middle section of his thighs, kicking my legs in the air until he smacked them down so my toes brushed the carpet.

‘Now, think about where you are,’ he said softly, his hand renewing its hypnotic circular pattern across my exposed bum cheeks. ‘Take a moment for the full humiliating reality of your position to sink in. Where are you, Cherry?’

I clenched my thighs, his low, authoritative voice tickling the space between them like a sonic vibrator. I wished I’d had more to drink. It would have made the verbal aspect of this scenario so much easier.

‘I’m over your knee.’

‘That’s right. But you missed a bit, Cherry. An important little word.’ His palm hovered dangerously over my rear curves.

‘I’m over your damn knee?’ I hazarded, with an irrepressible snort. Oh dear. It seemed I was discovering a hitherto-unknown minxy side of myself.

The smack was swift and remorseless. I yelped, quivering beneath his hand.

‘I’m surprised at you, young lady,’ he told me. ‘I see I’m going to have to deal with you quite thoroughly. No, the missing word you are looking for is “sir”. Now, repeat the sentence for me, Cherry.’

Thursday Thirteen - 13 Way to Cook Up Some Passion

2012-01-19T06:22:00.000-05:00

One thing I love about winter the wonderful smells wafting through the house while I bake on cold mornings. Anyways, while I was making some banana nut bread my mind started wandering about other ways to have fun in the kitchen… without kids around that is.

1. Wearing only an apron will stop any man in his tracks.

2. Be silly and wear an apron that says “Hot Stuff”…. Ask him to undress and put on one that says “Grill Master”.

3. Check at your local “lovers lane” type of store for an apron style teddy. Oooo… how about a maid or chef costume!

4. If you are clothed, the kitchen sometimes gets a bit too hot so try stripping down to your birthday suit one piece at a time. Sometimes it can be fun to let him watch but not taste… uh… I mean touch until it’s done.

5. Better yet… imagine your honey walking in to see you at the stove wearing only your birthday suit!

6. Hmmm…. Try sipping a glass of red wine while cooking. How about some special food such as anything dipped in chocolate?

7. Yummy scents such as pumpkin, cinnamon, vanilla or even a batch of fresh cookies can get that blood flowing.

8. Make something with oysters or chili peppers – items known for being aphrodisiacs.

9. Cook with your honey. Use your fingers to mix ingredients, lick each others fingers, or have a food fight.

10. Blindfold each other and taste test foods prepared with a variety of textures, tastes, and temperatures. Take turns feeding each other.

11. So the heat is on and you’re naked? Sit on the counter or lay on a table while he stands at the edge, wrap your legs around his waist.

12. Can’t stop stirring that sauce? No problem! You keep stirring while he snuggles up to your back for a rear entry position. Make sure you put in a request for extra neck nibbles.

13. Getting too hot? Oh, hell with it! Just throw him on the floor, poor the wine all over him and lick it off!

Excuse me… I need to run to the market for some more red wine.

Do you have a kitchen fantasy?

Adult Toys in the Future

2012-01-18T01:07:00.000-05:00

Toys!

I've been doing research on sex toys of the future (no, really!) and needed to know what types of vibrators are available now, so I could think about how they might be different in the future.

I'm open to suggestions and ideas! Here's a link for your own research, and a cool image of samples I came across on a site.

Adam and Eve

Below is a scene from At the Mercy of Her Pleasure in which the heroine is using a sex toy that has some futuristic connotations. If you can think of new ideas for this... I'm interested.

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**Warning: At the Mercy of Her Pleasure contains smokin' hot sex, humor, and angst. This combination has been proven to be addictive.**

Setting up the scene: Captain NarrAy Jorlan of the Resistance has returned from hiring thief Senth Antonello for what he's been told is a simple retrieval of confiscated goods. In fact, he's aquiring a locket into which a secret code has been inscribed. That code leads to the final step of NarrAy's parent's research, and is the reason they were murdered. The actual mission starts in the morning, so right now, NarrAy is taking the night off to relax. A Better, her genetic code has been enhanced for every aspect of life; she sees, hears, thinks, moves, and responds at rates beyond human. You wouldn't think that this half-human, younger thief would interest a woman who knows her own mind and is no stranger to controversy. In truth, a little bit of innocence may be exactly what she needs.

-------------

After her debriefing, NarrAy returned to her cabin. She locked the door and set the privacy indicator to full block, then kicked off her high heels and took off her red party dress. The liberation movement had spent a tradestandard month raising funds for this mission, and she couldn't waste one drak of it. But even the combined cost of their party clothes, flying to Tarth via an empire-class sleepliner, reserving the finest suite in the biggest hotel, ground transportation, and the flight back hadn't come close to what they'd paid to hire Senth.

She laid a hand against her chest. “Please let him be worth it.”

Wearing only a pair of the red thong panties Encie had purchased for her as part of the mission, she hung the dress inside her bagbot and stuffed the shoes into their cubby. She stepped back and took in the meticulously arranged articles of clothing, hung according to length and grouped by color—most of them red—and nothing she'd ever pick for herself. One of the drawers had panties and bras folded and placed with their cups tucked into one another, each bra lying beside the others in neat rows. Thongs were grouped by color. The smaller drawer held an array of cosmetics, none of which she recognized. Beyond her preferred fragrance-free soap and moisturizer, the rest belonged to the persona she'd display during the mission.

At the Mercy of Her Pleasure.

NarrAy chuckled. “I know Encie did all this.” The plain white cotton briefs NarrAy wore under her uniform were conspicuously absent. No doubt still crammed into her top drawer and mixed with white bras and gray uniform socks. No one inspected drawers or closets in the officers' quarters. The ship's droid staff laundered and pressed her uniform, cleaned her entire cabin, and made the bed. She'd long since given up any pretense of personal organization anywhere but in her work, and she had an aide for most of that.

What mattered were results, and results were what she was known for.

She toed the drawers shut, slipped off her panties, and stepped out of them, leaving them on the floor. She glanced back at the bunk and then tossed herself onto it. She rubbed one foot against the other, hands linked behind her head. The high heels had no arch supports, made her feet ache, and put stress on her shoulders and lower back. Yet women wore them routinely so they could walk around on tiptoe for the purpose of attracting men.

All I have to do is enter a room and my pheromones grab them by the nose. She chuckled. Among other parts.

She drew up one foot and began rubbing the arch. Encie had painted NarrAy's toes a light red to match her fingernails. Supposedly the special glossrylic applied to her nail beds guaranteed they wouldn't chip or peel, and changing color was as easy as touching a wand to a color sample, which then transferred to her nails with a single tap on each.

She arched her foot, lowered it, and then massaged the other for awhile. The tight dress had left a mark across her chest, and a thin line still showed against the fair skin of her bosom. She slid one finger along it, then applied more pressure with her thumb. The organic process of a firm touch, even of her own skin, stimulated her pheromones.

Her breasts tingled with the initial release, her nipples tightening into hard buds. NarrAy gasped at the unintended arousal. The mingled scent of vanilla and butter made itself evident. In such a confined space, the effect of the sugar-cookie scent was instantaneous. The scent of other Betters had no effect, but her own sent her into bliss. Her feminine parts warmed and became instantly wet. She writhed against the cotton blanket, its texture stimulating her even more.

“Damn it! I hate when my body does this to me.” She got up and took two steps toward the private head within her cabin for a cold shower. No, that would hurt before it helped, and my pheromones are still going to be in the room. Even the ship's ventilation can't remove them all. She turned and set one knee on the bed, opened a drawer tucked into a panel, and grabbed the egg-shaped toy on top of the other items. I never have to rummage through drawers for this little baby. I use it way too often not to know right where it is.

She sat, felt for the remote under her pillow, turned on the tiny screen, and chose her preferences. Let's see—Penile size: Kin. Diameter. What? This setting isn't on the human penis size. Are Kin that much bigger? How do you calcu—Screw that. She chose Circumference instead. Bigger than I can get one hand around, so that would be… She hesitated and then tapped the Six key. Wait. This is Tradestandard inches, and Senth's a HalfKin. She changed it to seven. Length. NarrAy chuckled, tapping the Nine key. Hey, a girl can dream, can't she? Movement. She keyed through her choices. Thrusting, Vibrating, Rotating, Half Rotations, Custom. She chose the last and then clicked Thrusting and Vibrating. It wouldn't actually move. A weight inside the toy would plunge against the rounded tip and then roll back. The last option was Speed. With a grin, she selected Slow. Oh yeah. Gonna do a Kin, gotta make it last.

She reclined on the bed. While she'd been setting her preferences, the egg had warmed itself to her body temperature and begun secreting lubricant along its surface. She drew back one knee, reached down, and inserted the toy.

The silent instrument activated at once. It lengthened and widened in smooth increments, soon filling her. NarrAy relaxed her body and allowed the toy's sensations to overtake her. Its gentle vibration made a constant thrum against her G-spot. The feel of a cock thrusting into her made her moan.

Feels so real. So good. Mmm. So so good. She cast aside the remote and placed her feet wide apart.

---

About the Author
Kayelle Allen is the founder of The Author's Secret, a company that coaches authors in building their brand names and helps them learn how to promote their work. She is also an award-winning, multi-published author who writes immortal characters, and is the creator of the Kin -- warriors who purr. She is known for unstoppable heroes, uncompromising love, and unforgettable passion. You will find her on the web in these places:
Romance Lives Forever Blog http://romancelivesforever.blogspot.com/
Romance Lives Forever Group http://groups.yahoo.com/group/romancelivesforever
The Edge of Peril - World of the Immortals http://groups.yahoo.com/group/edgeofperil/
Homeworld http://kayelleallen.com
Facebook http://facebook.com/kayelleallen.author
Twitter http://twitter.com/kayelleallen
Books: http://kayelleallen.com/Books.html

Saturday With ShapeShifter Seductions ~ 2012 Predictions by Gypsy Red Wolf

2012-01-14T04:41:00.005-05:00

New Year greeting-yips and tail wags from your Gypsy Red Wolf.

Tonight the dog star, Sirius... really the wolf-soul star... rules the midnight grandeur of our Montana sky. As the new year began, our beloved Mother Moon, growing ever more pregnant with light, entered the sign of Venus-ruled Taurus from the sign of Mars-ruled Aries.

This means the fierce flames of inspiration meet the beauty and love inside each one of us. During this year of 2012, our creativity is born anew, and our hearts will be on fire with love. This bodes well for those who are mated and those who are seeking their right mates.

To enter this year's blaze-sparkly vibration of love from the Sacred Universe, a never-ending swirl around each and everyone of us, join me at the Midnight Stardust Supperclub. Along with my performance every Saturday night at the Interspecies Pleasure Club, I am now one of the ballroom dance instructors.

My precious loup-garous, my precious ones of every breed-type and beautiful stripe, I promise the elegant, the enthralling, the enchanting pleasures of gliding within your loved one's arms at Dante's new supperclub. It is all what we need during this evil-raging, staging-of-chaos times by those who have succumbed to their darkest natures -- those cunning rabid beasts who battle to destroy the Light shining inside those of us who walk with the Mother Wolf Goddess.

Yes, yes... my crystal ball summons... once again, my howling and yowling friends, and all those who have made Talbot's Peak their new home this year... so many of you, and I welcome everyone with the embrace of my heart... it is time to gaze into my trusted, from the time of the ancients, wolfen-ancestral crystal ball... now un-clouding as if a winter storm passes and blue skies appear.

Time once again to put pen to paper in the old-fashioned way. Digital bytes interfere with the higher vibrations of our star-sparkling universe... ah yes, the predictions are piling up like our recent heavy snowfalls, I see.

Only for you, dearest readers of the G&B Gazette, I will reveal the secrets of the coming new year -- the much maligned, yet media-celebrated year of 2012. Don't believe the movies by the way, my wise ones. Garbage and chewed bones in, garbage and bone fragments out, as they grunting-say. ~yip-yip giggles~

Ah, my shapeshifter and supernatural brethren, has not the past year flown by, fast as riding the great swift wings of a golden eagle? And that brings us to my first prediction. Ascension. A mystical, airy purple-nude-fairy word, yes, to be sure... however...

We will rise as eagles. Or we will plummet like arrows who have missed their target. This will be true for you as a lone wolf individual, or as a member of the community pack. Only caring for each other and hunting for the benefit of all will allow for a well-fed spirit and a well-fed belly.

For, we have arrived at the apex of many cycles in time. It will be as if winter, fall, summer and spring converge and all the forces of nature crash together becoming one magnificent and tumultuous season. One never to be forgotten. Our wolf songs will be howled to the bright full moon with deep emotion, and someday in remembrance.

Yes, as has been forecast by many, severe land changes are here. I see the gnashing fangs, the ripping claws of Mother Earth. She will be cruel at times. She will also be loving and benign to those of us who remain connected to her energies, to those of us who dance and run with our wild spirits upon her surface.

Ah, loud howls of warning, dear ones, I see rough, trying periods ahead for many of us. Now is the time to hunt, to forage whenever the weather offers a friendly paw. Now is the time to prepare and store like our squirrel neighbors. Do so, and every difficulty will be overcome.

Picture me suddenly leaning closer... my crystal ball is brilliant, bold in what is being revealed. Yes, yes, there it is! Despite the feisty snarling year of 2012, be of good hope. Our handsome alpha champions of Talbot's Peak charge forth to savagely protect us, once again.

I am watching their strong fangs flash, ferocious as slashing knives. They are triumphant against every enemy. Even though, yes, in truth there are too many of our foes to count.

Truth, another giant trend for this New Year of 2012, slays the most wicked on Mother Earth like a squadron of hungry and ruthless dragons. Watch for it.

As a final note, my furry, feathered, skin and scaled brethren, our Brother Sun is entering a fickle, not-for-the-faint-of-heart cycle. Beware, and dare to prepare the caves and shelters of your choice.

As always, I remain available as your personal psychic advisor.
~~~

Your Gypsy Red Wolf

~ Psychic to the Furry, Feathered, Amphibian and Scaled Shifter. Humans now included ~
~~~~~~

~ Have a Magickal and Miraculous New Year ~

Savanna

Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance ~
~~~~~~

13 Sex Tips

2012-01-13T06:40:00.000-05:00

In honor of my favorite day, Friday the 13th, I'm posting 13 sex tips to boost your love life.

It's important to remember that sex should be fun.

1. Massage each other
Invest a little money in some oils and candles and then try massaging each other. Make sure you lie on your front and just let the hands and fingers do the walking. And, if neither of you are squeamish about it, foot massage can also be very erotic. It means you can massage each other at the same time, should you so wish.

2. Small kisses
Work your way all the way down the body using little butterfly kisses. Use your tongue sparingly and try not to snog. Instead lightly caress his skin with your lips. The longer you avoid his genitals, the more turned on he'll get.

3. Change the scenery
Try making the living-room or another room the scene for some action. If it makes it easier and more comfortable, bring down the duvet and some cushions/pillows.

4. Pleasure yourself in front of each other
This might take a bit of getting used to, but both of you will become enormously turned on, whether you're the watcher or the watched.

6. Get minty
Suck an after-dinner mint and wait until there's almost nothing left. Then go down on your partner. The sensation will be unlike anything they've experienced before.

7. Watch yourselves
Getting down to it in front of a mirror can be very erotic. If you don't have a mirror in your bedroom, try moving one from another room. Many women never really see their genitals and it can be a turn-on to see what's going on down there.

8. Go 69
It's a tried and tested technique, but if you've never tried it before, then now's the time to give it a go. After all, what's better than both of you having oral sex at the same time.

10. Use your whole body
Sex isn't just about the bits below your belly button and above your knees. By exploring each other's bodies from top to toe, you may even find new erogenous zones that get each other going.

11. Toy story
Introducing a vibrator into the bedroom can have a dramatic effect. Whether you use one on your fella, or let him use it on you, it doesn't matter, as long as you have fun.

12. Get slippery
Using a lubricant is not only useful for making sure there's no nasty rubbing, but it can make the sensation of touching each other more sensual.

13. Try some aphrodisiacs
Whether they work or not is still open to debate, but it adds something to the foreplay, if you're feeding each other asparagus or drinking hot ginger extract. Remember, sex is fun, not a chore.

When she’s not busy writing contemporary romance novels, novelettes, and short stories, Mary Quast doles out sensual tips and yummy eye candy on her blog “Romantic Interludes” where her Thursday Thirteen lists have earned the nickname of “Dr. Ruth of the Blog World”. She also can be found lecturing college classes on the importance of Journal writing.

Visit Mary's website or her blog.

13 Ways to Gain Readers

2012-01-12T00:35:00.001-05:00

How to Gain Readers.

Write well. Triple check your spelling. Punctuate properly. Readers today have been exposed to a wide variety of writing due to the internet and have learned to be discerning. A poorly written, misspelled book will be passed over in short order.
Use proper formatting. Kindle, Nook, Smashwords, Lulu, Createspace, etc. each has its own requirements for formatting. Follow them to the letter. Whatever the requirements say should be done -- do it. These services know what the programs will do and what it takes to make them work best. Follow their advice. A hard to read book gathers no interest.
Along those same lines, when posting quotes to the web, in email, on Yahoo Groups, and so on, never use "curly" or "smart" quotes (the type that curl toward words on the left, and away on the right). Many programs and emails cannot read the code that word processing programs use for these, so they substitute code to try to make sense of what they see. Instead of your quoted text appearing as: "I didn't do it." The reader sees:
tm&*I didn#@*$t do it.98cm&
Imagine an entire page of this. ARGH! Mind boggling. Go into the autocorrect features of your word processing program and turn off these types of quotes (and look at all the tabs -- they are in more than one place), then, using the Replace command on your editing toolbar, replace all " to ", and ' to '. It will look no different to you in the replace command dialog box, but the computer will change all the codes and the formatting on the other end will come out right. Your readers will thank you.
Use only a simple serif or non-serif font (like Times New Roman, Arial, or Calibri.). Readers who do not have a special font loaded on their computers will see plain text (such as Courier) because their machines will substitute the fancy font for a default one.
Provide good content. If you have interesting information to share with your readers, they will come to you. Whether you use blogs, Facebook, Twitter, or other services, content is the number one reason people will follow you. "Getting your name out there" is a byword. Everyone wants to know how to do it. How do you gain friends on Facebook and so on? How do you get people to read your book? The answer is to give them solid content, well written.
When promoting your book, provide a "set up" -- a few lines so people know what the scene or excerpt they are about to read is about. Help them understand the characters, so they don't feel they walked in during the middle of a conversation.
Share your work on more than your website and your blog. Yahoo groups, Facebook, other authors' blogs, Goodreads, and other places are good places to share your material with readers.
Use Twitter to generate interest in your books by sharing tidbits and snips of dialog or scenes. Believe it or not, there are Twitter accounts that post entire stories, each less than 140 characters long. Try delivering your hero or heroine's lines in successive tweets. Not all of them, mind you -- just a few to create curiosity.
Share promos with other authors. If you and another author have similar books (say vampire romances) hold a contest together. You promote your book and hers to your readers, and vice versa. You will both gain. I've done this with friends over the years and gained not only readers, but best friends who will promo with me at the drop of a hat. You can't beat that.
Be honest with your readers. Do you have a blog? Tell them when you're struggling and ask for advice or feedback. Note: I didn't say whine. ^_^ But if your dog died, your kids are bugging you, the boss is a jerk, and your car's in the shop -- say so. Show your human side. Let the GRRR out now and then. Just don't go over the edge and freak out on them.
Let your characters come out to play. I created a Yahoo email account for my character Luc Saint-Cyr, and he emails readers who write to him. Yes, it's me, and we all know that, but I stay fully in character when I write as Luc, and readers love it. If you want a sample, you can email him yourself. He's luc_saint_cyr@yahoo.com and he will answer you. He joined my yahoo group Romance Lives Forever and has participated in chats. "Luc" logs on in one browser while I'm in another so we can both take part. The trick is to remember who you are while in each window! More than once, he's had to type, "Kayelle, please talk on your own keyboard." LOL Readers have had a lot of fun with this. They flirt with him outrageously, and it strokes the Man's ego like you wouldn't believe. It's good for my muse.
Tell people you meet that you're an author. Carry your business cards or bookmarks. When I'm at a bookstore, or looking at books at the grocery store, I invariably start talking to the woman who's standing next to me. Especially when she picks up a book I already own, or am about to buy. Or she's buying an author I've never heard of before. I ask questions. Somehow it always leads to sharing my own story. I hand over my card. I once got an email from someone who said she'd met me in a doctor's office several years before, and wanted to let me know she'd bought one of my books and loved it. Made my day. So tell people.
But the best way to sell book one is to write books two, three, and more. Readers want to sense that you are a wellspring of ideas and content to whom they can go for answers. If you can meet that need, you are well on your way to being a best selling author.

---

About the Author

Romance Lives Forever Blog http://romancelivesforever.blogspot.com/
Romance Lives Forever Group http://groups.yahoo.com/group/romancelivesforever
The Edge of Peril - World of the Immortals http://groups.yahoo.com/group/edgeofperil/
Homeworld http://kayelleallen.com
Facebook http://facebook.com/kayelleallen.author
The Author's Secret http://facebook.com/theauthorssecret
Twitter http://twitter.com/kayelleallen

Release Day: Reckless in Moonlight

2012-01-10T05:00:00.000-05:00

Women lead busy, active lives. Wehave families, husbands, jobs, hobbies, community commitments. Often times inour drive to “do” for other people, we can lose part of ourselves and surrenderour needs to those of others. We put other people first.

Dana Markus, my 45-year-old heroinein Reckless in Moonlight, is like that. Dana played by the rules. She wasfaithful to her husband of twenty-three years, tried hard to be a good motherto their daughter, worked hard at her job and did everything expected of her.And then her husband leaves her for a much younger woman.

The infidelity delivers a hardkick, but the divorce gives Dana an opportunity to explore needs and desiresthat she’d suppressed for so long.

I wanted to create a heroine thatwas real, who struggled to balance all the things that modern day women have ontheir plates, and I particularly wanted to create a heroine who was older thanthe norm in most romances.

Reckless in Moonlight Blurb

Forty-five-year-old Dana Markusknows a full moon makes people act crazy. It’s why they call the power companywith stories about aliens disrupting the earth’s climate. It probably explainswhy her ex-husband left her for a girl scarcely older than their college-agedaughter. It definitely accounts for why she impulsively invited the neighbor’shunk of a son over for a skinny-dip. And why 28-year-old Lon Corbin accepted.

Lon doesn’t think much of the massof rock orbiting the earth, but he does think he’s the luckiest man alive whenthe sexy divorcee he’s admired from afar invites him into her pool. He knowsshe has reservations about their age difference, but he’s planning to show herin a very physical way how good they could be together if she’ll give him thechance.

But when their simmering privatepassion boils over into a public relationship, family pressures and schemesthreaten to split the couple apart.

The moon brought them together-- but will it save them?

Reckless in Moonlight Excerpt

Back and forth, back and forth,Lon Corbin ran the sea sponge over the hood of his car. If it seemed odd thatsomeone would wash his vehicle at night, well, the moon was full, and no oneknew better than Dana Markus that moonlight compelled people to do strangethings. Why else was she ogling the neighbors’ twenty-something son like he wasa strawberry dipped in Godiva chocolate?

And Lon offered so much toenjoy. A tiny moan of appreciation escaped her lips. From the top of his head,covered by thick amber hair, to his bare tippy toes, his majestic, youthfulbody inspired her to stand and salute. Strong, broad shoulders and a smoothchest decorated by lickable flat nipples tapered to slim hips and powerfulthighs that were hugged by faded blue jeans. His legs weren’t the onlyimpressive body parts the fabric molded; the heavy denim cupped a massive bulgefurther showcased by the wetness of the fabric.

He’d soaked himself cleanthrough with the hose. Water droplets sluiced down his arms, his chest, hisflat abdomen…and led the way to his thick sex.

Lon dipped the sponge into thebucket again, then swirled it over the hood, round and round, making circles toensure he got every spot. Every one. Dana admired a conscientious man who paidattention to detail, who took pride in a job well done.

He dipped again. Oops. Hesplashed himself with the soapy water. Dana licked her lips as her gazefollowed the bubbles’ journey over his chest and down his ripped abdomen, wherethey soaked into the waistband of his low-slung jeans.

Oh, to be those bubbles!

Another moan, louder this time,erupted from her throat and drew Lon’s attention. Their eyes met across theiradjacent driveways, and he flashed an all-American, 100 percent sexy grin.

“Hot, isn’t it?” His low voicevibrated like distant thunder, and Dana knew he wasn’t talking about the airtemperature but rather the sexual tension that snapped and sizzled like alightning strike between them. She almost could smell the ozone.

“Scorching,” she agreed. “Can Igive you a hand with that?” She eyed the dripping sponge he held in his largehands.

“I was hoping you’d ask,” hesaid, with a grin. His ready acceptance of assistance lit a fire in herstomach. For months she’d watched Lon from afar, never exchanging more than apolite hello, never imagining she’d have a chance at anything more thana greeting. Dana glided across the driveway, tugged by the seductive promise ofLon’s gaze as if she were tethered to him, and he was reeling her in. Everystep heightened her arousal. Her breasts felt heavy, her nipples tightened, andbetween her cream-slickened thighs, her swollen cunt pulsed hungrily.

Standing next to him, she couldsmell the detergent in the bucket and a manly, soapy scent that emanated fromhim, along with the even sexier aroma of clean sweat.

“Do you have another sponge?”she asked as she scanned the dark street for activity. No traffic. Nolate-night dog walkers. Perfect.

“You don’t need one.” Lon tossedhis into the pail and propped his sexy ass against the car’s fender.

“No?” She ran a finger over hischest and circled the nipple. It perked under her touch. A sharp current ofdesire zinged through her clit. “What do I need?”

“You need cock,” Lon said andunzipped his pants.

The ShapeShifter Seductions Calendar ~ January 2012

2012-01-08T16:57:00.001-05:00

Meet Jamie and Lamar, Two of Talbot's Peak Calendar Boys

Created by Rebecca Gillan for SHAPESHIFTER SEDUCTIONS. Here's the web address to download your copy for "January 2012" ~ rebeccalgillan.com/SSS-January2012.pdf ~
~~~~~~

~ Have a Magickal and Miraculous New Year ~

Savanna

Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance ~
~~~~~~

Savanna Kougar is the best-selling author of twelve ebooks, with six books in print. She pens love stories because that’s her deepest heart. She writes in the futuristic/fantasy/paranormal subgenres because that’s her fiercest passion. And, she writes erotic romance because she ferociously enjoys ripping the damn doors off.

2012 Calendar Hunks

2012-01-04T01:25:00.000-05:00

It's a new year, and we need new calendars, so I'm sharing some great new calendars you can get online. Of course, this requires some behind the scenes videos to make the fun complete. I hope you enjoy these. =^_^= I know I did!
---

Aussie Bum Swimwear

What year was this? Do we care?

Swedish Nobility Calendar 2012 -- Horsing around, anyone?

Here's to a new year that's delightful and full of surprises.

---

About the Author

Kayelle Allen is the founder of The Author's Secret, a company that coaches authors in building their brand names and helps them learn how to promote their work. She is also an award-winning, multi-published author who writes immortal characters, and is the creator of the Kin -- warriors who purr. She is known for unstoppable heroes, uncompromising love, unforgettable passion. You will find her on the web in these places:
Homeworld http://kayelleallen.com
Facebook http://facebook.com/kayelleallen.author
Twitter http://twitter.com/kayelleallen
Blog http://romancelivesforever.blogspot.com
Romance Lives Forever - Group http://groups.yahoo.com/group/romancelivesforever
The Edge of Peril - World of the Immortals http://groups.yahoo.com/group/edgeofperil/

The Author's Secret
http://theauthorssecret.com
http://facebook.com/theauthorssecret

New Year's Eve at the Galactia Ecstasy

2011-12-31T23:37:00.004-05:00

Romance lovers, Happy New Year on the first day of 2012.

About seven thirty in the evening on this New Year's Eve, I glimpsed a shooting star while I was sky gazing, and admiring the planet Venus.

"Wish upon a star" immediately came to mind, sang through my mind. When I wrote my Otherworld flash scene several years ago, I asked myself then what I wished for most... if wishes came true for celebrating New Year's Eve.
~~~~~~

New Year’s Eve at the Galactia Ecstasy

The nearly backless gown of heavy satin flowed over Shestry’s body in long elegant lines. Feeling extraordinarily beautiful, she languidly arranged herself in front of the full length mirror. Her curves appeared to be streamlined by her evening gown, the rich deep color of burnt gold.

She smiled with sheer sensual enjoyment at her reflection.

“Sis, hoop-di-doo, you’re going to drive the gents c-r-a-z-y over the moon.”

Entering her lavish dressing room with his usual flair, Jaxter sauntered to his favorite lounge chair and settled himself.

“I’ll be thrilled with good dancing partners, if you must know. I’m not going as part of the cattle call to be some man’s wife. Or is that the ‘heifer call’ market? Regardless, you men can keep to your own lives and leave me out of them for a good while.” Moving toward her brother, Shestry swept up her glitter evening bag. “Is Alexa waiting for you at the supper club?”

“She’ll be swinging into my arms once we arrive. I just gave her the tinkle and heard her sweet voice.” Jaxter held up his wrist phone, his grin one of ‘let’s go make merry’.

“What’s the latest on the parents?” Shestry gave her fancy upswept hairdo a final pat, then let the natural sway of her body take over as she walked toward her personal portal.

“They’re going to let us kiddies play and dance the night away. They’re planning to join us an hour before midnight, sweets.” Rising with athletic grace, Jaxter adjusted his tux’s black silk bowtie, then followed after her.

In moments, they stood inside the welcoming foyer of the Galactia Ecstasy, a supper club arching high above one of their world’s largest cities. The posh glimmer of furnishings, in shades of amber, surrounded them as they glided toward the immense, bowl-shaped room that was composed of a central dance floor and two upper levels for dining, partying and viewing.

“Jaxter!”

Alexa’s excited squeal penetrated the celebratory atmosphere with arrow-like ease. The petite brunette, who owned a doll’s perfect figure, flew inside her brother’s open arm. Shrugging adorably and flirtatiously, she tilted her head all the way back, and smiled without an ounce of pretense at him. Her eyes glowed with intimacy. Alexa closed them, pursing her brilliant red lips for his kiss.

Jaxter obliged for several instants, then wrapped her close against his side. “See ya later, sis. That gleaming dance floor is pulling on the soles of our shoes like magnetic plasma.”

Shestry fondly gazed at them both and gave a nod. “Greetings, Alexa. See you two much later.”

Free to pursue her own evening delights, Shestry pivoted toward the second level entrance. Straightening her shoulders, she held her head high and let the gown’s design have its way with her walking stride with what she called her ‘elegant slink’.

***

Drauz halted in his tracks. He’d been seized in the same way the gravitational pull of a sun captured his galactic ship, an occasional problem. Only his gaze continued to move, following the gorgeous woman, as she swayed like a breeze-blown reed toward the exquisitely appointed ramp, that led up to the second level dining area.

The sumptuously curved, yet slender beauty with hair the color of gold, bronze and rubies combined, obviously belonged to this world. Still, she hitched his cock to a full-standing salute, despite having satiated himself with several women during the past few days.

Surprised by the power she wielded over him, Drauz swiftly stepped behind a splendid drape that sectioned off a gentlemen’s lounge. Glancing over his shoulder, he was relieved to see no one was about. Already his hand transformed to beast claws.

His desire for the woman had catapulted his sex hormones so fiercely and so fast, his body threatened to shift into his most primal nature. He was known as a Dragonlion on his world.

Slipping the tiny vial out of his pocket with his un-transformed hand, Drauz tipped it up and drained its contents. The natural potion would tamp down his libido, for now. As quickly as it had occurred, his beast claws disappeared and his hand returned.

Without thought he trailed after the woman, his predator instincts fully engaged. Her fragrance enchanted him, reminding him of the most potent and delectable spices. The moment he caught sight of her, close to an empty dining table, he strode in her direction.

She stood alone, casually leaning on the translucent rail, enjoying the dancers below. The extreme roundness of her ass was displayed to carnal perfection by the high sheen of the gown she wore. Drauz licked his chops and told his beastly cock to behave in a gentlemanly fashion.

He could tell by the feminine language of her body and by her scent, she expected a man to woo and win her with more than his exceptional prowess between her thighs. A low roar of need rumbled up from the core of his being. He didn’t let it out.

“Who are you?” she asked without turning around. Intentionally, she kept her posture dismissive and her gaze riveted on the dazzling whirl of dancers.

“The man who is about to plead for a dance, once your favored piece of music begins.”

She spun around then, and their gazes collided. His breath rushed inward, as did hers. Reaching back, she steadied herself by clutching the rail. Drauz knew it would be a mistake to touch her yet. He forced himself not to sweep her against him as both an act of passion and protection.

***

Ignoring her ridiculous pants of breath, Shestry stared into the black-golden eyes of a Magollov, a race she knew little about, that is, except the obvious. His stature was larger, his frame more muscular than the men of her world. The deep brown-gold coloring of his suede-like skin subtly glowed. His furred lion ears pricked forward with sexual interest. Though, he’d kept his long tasseled tail discreetly behind him.

‘Lovely, aristocratic mane you have’... those were the words that wanted to fly past her lips. Instead, Shestry spoke her second thoughts. “Are you able to dance with any manner of competence, and perhaps, a dash of style?”

A glint of amusement transformed his gaze from bold intensity to a wicked playfulness that appealed to her. “Should I demonstrate with another partner? Or will you trust my word?”

Shestry tilted her head, all too aware of his hypnotizing gaze, and all too aware that she sizzled as a woman inside. “Will I require another partner? Or do you posses the stamina to dance all night?”

“My stamina is yours for this New Year’s celebration.” His gaze roamed over her face, devouring every detail. Her nipples tightened when he briefly dipped his gaze to the swells of her breasts, revealed by the gown’s v-plunging neckline. “Shall I order us a sustaining platter of delicacies and a bottle of bubbly? Your preference, of course.”

“You are an adventure I would like to taste. Prove your worth on the dance floor and I am yours for this New Year’s celebration.”

***

She promised him nothing, not even her name. She offered only her devoted company for her world’s night of elegant revelry. Drauz knew that. He didn’t care. He’d keep his needs tamed for her. This woman with eyes like far-away, beckoning blue stars. With lips that invited his plunder. With pale golden skin that demanded the rough arousing strokes of his tongue.

He presented his arm. “But dance with me, and my worth I shall prove.”

***

Feeling as sensual as the satin of her gown, and as molten as the color, Shestry placed her hand on the Magollov’s handsomely carved arm. One night of dancing surrounded by the crystalline fantasy of the supper club, with a man who didn’t belong to her world, a man who could never belong to her. Why not ferociously enjoy?

With suave attentiveness, he escorted her toward the long spiraling ramp, and they moved downward. It was as if she tread on air. “May I feel the caress of your tail tassel on my face when we dance?”
~~~~~~

~ Have a Magickal and Miraculous New Year ~

Savanna

Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance ~

Happy New Year!

2011-12-31T11:11:00.005-05:00

Hi, everyone. It's count down time to 2012. I'm posting my new cover and a subscriber's link in case you decide to check out my Dreamcatcher Newsletter this month. My latest serialized novella begins at midnight tonight. Come on, don't be shy--Flirt.

Subscribe Here:

Happy New Year!!!

Gem

WEB / FB / Twitter

13 Ways to Be a Humble Writer

2011-12-29T00:01:00.004-05:00

Happy New Year!

Christmas is finally over and we're settling in for winter. A new year is at the entrance, nosing about, waiting for its chance to get in. I decided to share some humor I've learned over the past few years about being a writer. With tongue planted firmly in cheek, here we go...

1. Being humble is rule #1. Never tell anyone you wrote a book. It's okay to write it, but keep the news to yourself. If you wrote a good book, people will find it without you saying a word.

2. Don't post any information about your book online, especially on places such as Facebook, Twitter, Yahoo Groups, or blogs. If in doubt, see #1.

3. If someone wants to buy a copy of the book from you, sell it for no more than what it cost you to obtain. It's not humble to expect people to pay more than you did.

4. Cover art is not necessary. A book's quality should never be judged by its outside. "Never judge a book by its cover" is an axiom.

5. Do not set goals. A true writer only writes when inspired, therefore, goals are counterproductive.

6. Wait for inspiration. Be ready to write, but don't worry about muses or looking for inspiration outside yourself. True inspiration comes from within and should not be sought. When it's real, it will come.

7. Editing is for those who don't get it right the first time. Don't write anything down until you know it's correct. This will save you time and energy, not to mention paper, ink, and erasers.

8. If your computer is on, you should be writing. Remind yourself of this. Guilt can help you stay focused.

9. Games are counterproductive to writing. There is a school of thought that they are helpful by enabling you to relax. However, this can also lead to indulgence, and should be avoided by a hard-working writer.

10. Physical exercise requires time away from your desk. Avoid it.

11. It's all right to eat all your meals at your desk. Dinner or lunch with the family is time consuming.

12. Cleaning house is maid's work. Writers write. Stay at your desk.

13. Don't give advice on the web.

Gotten any really bad advice lately? Other than #12, I can't agree with anything posted here.

Happy New Year everyone. =^_^= Here's to success in 2012!

---

About the author

Kayelle Allen is a multi-published author who writes immortal characters, and is the creator of the Kin -- warriors who purr. Find Kayelle on the web:

http://kayelleallen.com

http://romancelivesforever.blogspot.com/

http://facebook.com/kayelleallen.author
http://twitter.com/kayelleallen

Merry Christmas Everyone!

2011-12-23T09:31:00.000-05:00

Elizabeth looked up at Noah, memorizing this moment for the rest of their lives. The wedding had been a magnificent affair, but she'd been so distracted by her desire to have it over, she could barely remember the trappings of the event.
Now they stood together, man and wife, waiting for the musicians to begin. Noah's face was flushed. She suspected he was nervous with half the county watching them. She squeezed his hand reminding him she was his partner now in all things.
The first notes of the Bride & Groom Dance sounded, signaling the beginning of the song and their committed relationship. Carefully, Noah turned her into his arms, holding her closer than Grandma Alice would approve. His voice was a rough parody of his usual gentle tone when he asked gruffly, "Shall we dance?"

Elizabeth's Waltz is a short story I've written in serialized form for my Dream Catcher Newsletter subscribers. The vignette is complete and at midnight tonight the downloadable file will be available for a limited time @ Gem's Place.

Happy Holidays, Everyone!

WEB / FB / TWITTER

Thursday Thirteen: Defining Success

2011-12-22T01:00:00.000-05:00

If I’ve learned one thing about success, it’s that there’sno surefire way to achieve it. It’s route is personal and for most of us,circuitous. It zigzags, double-backs and sometimes leads us down dead-ends. Butit’s out there. Waiting for us – if we’re willing to take the risk and persevere.

Here’s what some famous people had to say about success:

Sometimes in life you don't always feel like a winner, butthat doesn't mean you're not a winner. -- Lady Gaga
You always pass failure on the way to success. -- MickeyRooney
I couldn't wait for success, so I went ahead without it. --Jonathan Winters
Most people give up just when they're about to achieve success. They quit onthe one yard line. They give up at the last minute of the game one foot from awinning touchdown. -- Ross Perot
Success is how high you bounce whenyou hit bottom. -- George S. Patton
Success is falling nine times and getting up ten. -- Jon BonJovi
There is no point at which you can say, "Well, I'm successful now.I might as well take a nap.” -- Carrie Fisher.
To guarantee success, act as if it were impossible to fail. -- DorotheaBrande
Success seems to be largely amatter of hanging on after others have let go. -- William Feather
How do you achieve success? Well,for one thing, you don't define it before you achieve it. -- RobertBrault
Some people succeed because theyare destined to, but most people succeed because they are determined to. -- Author Unknown
Success and failure. We thinkof them as opposites, but they're really not. They're companions - thehero and the sidekick. -- Laurence Shames
If at first you do succeed - try tohide your astonishment. -- Author Unknown

What If You're Not in the Mood

2011-12-21T00:27:00.001-05:00

What do you do when it's "The Holidays" and you are feeling like Scrooge? When it's like having writer's block for Christmas? How do you handle it when you feel like curling up and just snoozing through the season?

Surely I am not the only one who feels like Christmas is becoming all commercials and sales. I am even working toward "selling" a free class on blogging by reminding authors that many readers will have empty Kindles and Nooks to fill on Christmas morning. Am I adding to the overcommercialization of the holiday?

At what point do you reach saturation with the entire jingle-bell-rock background music and heave Santa off a cliff? =^_^=

No, I'm not depressed or a Scrooge. I'm enjoying this Christmas more than I have in the past. I have a 15 month old grandbaby to cuddle this year and I love seeing Christmas through his eyes. But I sense a kind of creeping de-fun-ization that threatens the joy of the season.

So, talk to me. Have you ever dealt with this? How do you handle it when your family is looking at you to provide the Ho Ho Ho and all you have is Ho Hum?

To encourage answers and comments, I'm offering a download of any single book on my backlist. I'll give away one download to every unique commenter (meaning different people), up to ten commenters.

That ought to put at least a few people in a festive mood for the holidays. Leave a comment, and then email me with Season in the subject, and tell me which of my books you want.

You can find my backlist here: http://kayelleallen.com/Books.html

Howliday Greetings from ShapeShifter Seductions

2011-12-21T00:26:00.003-05:00

Howliday greetings, shapeshifter lovers.

The Winter Solstice, that magical time of year when the light returns, is now upon us. The Christmas season, a miraculous time of the year, will highlight the miracles that are about to play out in 2012. This prediction is directly from Volcano, my cherub hero in When a Good Angel Falls.

I wish one and all the merriest holiday season.
~~~~~~

...a real nice gift from Santa...

"Who gives an elf?" Srynna grumbled as she wriggled down the sooty narrow chimney. What a gig, leaving toys for good shapeshifter girls and boys -- actually gift certificates, good for any store in Talbot's Peak.

Yeah, holly jolly, this was Christmas eve hell. At around 110 pounds she could just see herself hoisting an enormous Santa Klaus bag while sneakily moving from house to house, unscented by keen-nosed predator types -- at least, the gift certificates were tucked close in a small waist pouch.

Sure she could morph to invisible for short periods of time, avoiding detection, but that didn't include a bulky bag. Frigging cold, on the verge of exhaustion, and with hunger sticking her belly to her backbone, Srynna wasn't in a merry, festive mood. It's not like most shifters expected Santa, and left out cookies and milk.

Thank the good Christmas fairy -- who she knew personally -- this was her last stop.

"Stuff the holly wreathe up your..." she muttered as she squirmed, and suppressed the urge to sneeze from the dust and soot.

How Dante had talked her into this... well, because as a half-human she'd needed the money, and the werewolf could be charm itself when he wanted. Plus, with the promise of a plum job at his newest club, the Midnight Stardust... Srynna just hadn't been able to refuse.

So, here she was nearly trapped, about to have a coughing fit, about to wake up a whole household full of --

Suddenly, Srynna plummeted downward. A scream exploded up her throat, but was somewhat muffled by the chimney. With a hard bruising thump, she landed square on her butt. An ember that hadn't completely died burned through her thin slippery breeches, and she shrieked in pain.

With survival in mind, Srynna slapped at her hind end until the smell of smoke lessened. She scrambled out of the fairly large hearth only to smack into something she couldn't see, something very furry. As it toppled, she tumbled over it, and realized it must be a giant stuffed toy.

Performing a flip to regain her feet and get the crap out of this den of possible horrors, as in her being featured for Christmas dinner, Srynna felt the needles of a real pine tree prick her face. Unable to stop her momentum, she crashed full-on into the huge, heavily decorated Christmas tree.

With a screech of pure panic, she wrestled the confining, needle-sharp boughs trying to make good her escape. The string of lights fought back, tangling around her like a ball of mating snakes. Simultaneously, the decorative bulbs pummeled her when they didn't break into painful shards.

Struggling harder to free herself, all Srynna got for her valiant effort was the mighty pine on top of her, the victor. Buried beneath the tree alive, and entombed by sizeable Christmas presents, she desperately tried to think of a way to escape this deck-the-halls hell.

Even if she could untangle herself, and crawl her way through the maze of heavy limbs, Srynna realized she couldn't vanish to save herself. Her energy was sapped.

Tears leaked from the corner of her eyes. She'd allowed herself to hope her future would be brighter once she arrived in Talbot's Peak. Her kind, an ancient elf and human lineage, had barely avoided being eradicated once the age of machines had begun, and the old ways of magick faded.

Now that magick returned as the dominant force, her kind was still not welcome in most elfin communities. She'd been welcomed by Dante and his crew, and had even begun to feel as though she fit in... now...

With a strangled sob, Srynna twisted trying to ease her way out of the imprisoning light strings. Feeling a draft of air, she stilled. The tree rose as if hauled upward by the hand of a compassionate angel.

But she knew better. Feral eyes, bright as the Christmas tree lights if they'd been turned on, cut through the room's inky darkness. Their amber-emerald beam landed directly on her.

"Now that's what I call a real nice gift from Santa," a lazy deep voice drawled.

Despite her fluttering heartbeat, and the icy fear racing through her, Srynna snapped, "I am not a gift."

"Oh?" the obviously wolfen voice asked. She watched the tree settle against the fireplace mantle. Then those predator eyes slowly devoured her whole before she heard, "I beg to differ. You look like the perfect tasty gift to me," he paused and loosely folded his... were those brawny hunky arms? "Although, little elf, the trip down the chimney did take its toll on your pretty holiday wrapping."

"I told you I am not... never mind. If you would kindly get me out of these lights, I'll leave the gift certificate... and, and be on my way... on my merry way," she added, hoping 'in the spirit of the season' he would let her go.

"Dante didn't tell me he was sending such a fetching little elf. He only said not to mistake you for prey."

"How do you... I mean Dante told me he hadn't..." Srynna gulped hard. "This was supposed to be a secret Santa sort of thing."

"I work at the club. Overheard him recruiting you. But I missed the best part. Seeing you, little elf." He'd stressed 'seeing' in that turn-a-girl-on growly voice of his

"I'm not an el..." But why explain anything to the bare-chested, and from what else she could see in the darkness -- why explain anything to the eye-candy, overly handsome werewolf?

Yeah, so her ears were pointed. And, even if she was from an elfin lineage, being called an elf was worse than a curse word to her, given how often she and her kin had been ostracized. When all they'd wanted was a home, a place to be, and belong.

Suddenly bending toward her, he swept his gaze over her length. "Are you hurt?"

"Hurt," she burst out. "How could I be hurt? The chimney was too small, then widened and I fell 'hard' onto a live ember. Of course, I'm a dreadful mess. Hurt? After stumbling over that furry beast you call a toy, your Christmas tree tried to murder me..."

His mouth caught hers, his kiss so warm and enveloping, Srynna let herself kiss him back. Then, before she knew it, his lips deserted hers, and he was unwinding the light string, his touch tender and surprisingly efficient.

"Damn good thing, everyone else is at the grandparents. Your fall from grace, my cute Christmas elf, would have woken up the dead."

"Why? Are you zombie by night?" She'd fired wild with that silly zombie remark, but frazzled didn't even cover the state of her nerves.

"Sleep like a zombie sometimes." Gently, he unwound the last of light string from her ankle. "Don't think I'll be sleeping now." Clasping her waist with both hands, he swung her upward, and she dangled before him like a new toy. "You're bleeding," he stated the obvious.

Bristling, Srynna snarked, "That's what happens when you're the victim of a vicious Christmas tree attack."

As he continued to hold her before him with ease, inspecting her with his gaze, Srynna wondered just how strong the wolf beast was. She certainly felt like his prize doll.

"I'll take full responsibility for my rabid Christmas tree, little elf. Zhangar is my name, Srynna."

So Dante had told him her name. Just elf-ing great.

"Let's get you taken care of and cleaned up." His gaze met hers, flaring with what could only be described as ravenous, eat-her-up desire.

Oh, help me please... any good-hearted fairy.

"I don't want to be cleaned up. I want to leave. I'll just leave... leave the gift certificate and --"

"What kind of gentleman would I be? If I didn't take care of all your scrapes and bruises. Dante would have my furry hide," he added after a moment. Amusement definitely colored his tone. Not any fear of his alpha boss.

"I was feeling lonely," he continued, his voice gruffly sexy, "playing Santa and setting everything up. But I'm not complaining now because I want to unwrap my gift in private."

With that he spun her around, and lifted her higher. As she hung like his personal ornament, Srynna could palpably feel his gaze on her butt. And she knew he didn't only check her burned cheek.

"Thank you, Big Red Guy," he rasped.

The next thing she knew, he was pressing a soft kiss on the blistered area. Srynna stilled, stunned by the sudden turn of events. When he slowly, patiently licked her exposed flesh, she realized two things. He was healing her burn, and she'd never felt so wanton in her entire life.

With her breath coming out in needy bursts, Srynna grabbed hold of his hands with her much smaller ones. Her butt moved of its own volition closer to his mouth. "Oh, more," she panted out.
~~~~~~

~ Have a Magickal and Shapeshifting Winter Solstice ~

Savanna

Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance ~

And the winner is....

2011-12-19T15:22:00.001-05:00

CONGRATS TO

STACEY SIFERD

the winner of

Stuff Your Stockings Christmas Blog Hop

Romance Writers Behaving Badly Gift Basket.

This basket includes: Rip Cord ebook from Jeanne St. James

PDF copy from Savanna Kougar’s backlist

Download of Alitus, Tales of the Chosen from Kayelle Allen

PDF download of Handcuffs & Silk from Mary Quast

Bound by Obsession from Christa Paige

$10 gift card to The Wild Rose Press from Becca Simone

A copy Perfect Strangers from Gem Sivad

Stuff Your Stockings Christmas Blog Hop 2011

2011-12-16T00:01:00.150-05:00

Welcome to the Stuff Your Stocking Blog Hop. You probably just hopped in after enjoying some sweets from Rhian Cahill, the author of the delicious Coyote Hunger Series.

Now grab a Holiday beverage, sit back and relax... time to enjoy your time with Romance Writers Behaving Badly.

Remember to leave a comment for a chance to win

a Romance Writers Behaving Badly Gift Basket.

This basket includes:
Rip Cord ebook from Jeanne St. James

PDF copy from Savanna Kougar’s backlist

Download of Alitus, Tales of the Chosen from Kayelle Allen

PDF download of Handcuffs & Silk from Mary Quast
Bound by Obsession from Christa Paige
$10 gift card to The Wild Rose Press from Becca Simone
A copy Perfect Strangers from Gem Sivad

Enjoy some Romantic Interludes on your next stop of the Blog Hop.

Because of the season, there is one question romance writers hear often....

Are you naughty or are you nice?

Let's see what the authors of Romance Writers Behaving Badly have to say.

To quote the beautiful Mae West, "When I'm good, I'm very good. But when I'm bad, I'm better." I like to be naughty in a good way. Fill my Christmas stocking with silk scarves, chocolate, whipping cream and steamy sex I'll be happy all year. Or at least for a few hours until I need a nap.

Merry Christmas! ~ Author and Artist Mary Quast lives in a log home affectionately named "Camp Run-A-Muk" located in the woods of Michigan with her husband, three sons, and a collection of animal family members.When she’s not busy writing contemporary romance novels, novelettes, and short stories, Mary doles out sensual tips and yummy eye candy on her blog “Romantic Interludes”

~~~~~~

Naughty or nice... hmmm... I'm like the little girl with the curl... I can be very, very nice. But when I'm penning one of my erotic romances, I can be very, very naughty.

~ A Short Shapeshifter Erotic Romance for Christmas ~

Consumed by curiosity, Kaily gives herself to a mystery man for Christmas.

Will Dylan be able to resist her waiting naked, but gift-wrapped beneath his tree?

Excerpt ~

Chapter One:
Santa Baby, Waitin' Just for You

Rarely reckless, Kaily flung off the negligee she'd first thought to wear. It landed in a red ephemeral heap beside the tastefully trimmed Christmas tree.

So what if she'd just broken into his house...well, she hadn't exactly broken in...more like she spied on him until she found out where he hid the extra key...lodged in a crack of the frame above the door of the Victorian mansion he'd resurrected from certain crumbling death, and now obviously treasured.

There was only one thing Kaily could see amiss in the traditional holiday atmosphere he'd created with the help of the town's local historical club -- a garish red ribbon. The long sash had a simple bow attached to one end, and practically shone despite the low lighting.
Kaily stared at the unexpected invitation.

Certainly, the river of red ribbon didn't belong on the floor as a decoration, and she couldn't see anywhere else it belonged...except wrapped around her.

Since she was giving herself to him as a gift for Christmas...well, why not?

Wildly inspired, Kaily plucked up what looked to be about three yards of ribbon. After strategically emphasizing her full breasts, she arranged it around her naked body. Naked that is, except for her gold ankle bracelet, her 'I want to seduce you earrings'...and a whimsical pair of faux-fur trimmed santa boots.

Heck, Kaily reasoned, if he was gay he might just chuckle a ho-ho-ho, and turn it all into big ole joke...and she'd turn her bare tail, and escape as quick as possible. If he wasn't gay, but didn't want to take what she was offering, Kaily hoped he would have a holly jolly laugh at her expense as he politely showed her to the door.

It was all too true, her curiosity raged out of control even causing her sleepless nights. The object of her desire had sauntered into Kaily's small town last December. He'd paid cash on the spot for the dilapidated but proud old Victorian mansion, according to Becky Starks the one realtor.

With a vengeance, and despite the winter weather, Sexy Strange Man as she'd thought of him then had set about restoring the mansion. He'd also made certain to gain the good will of everyone in town...well, almost everyone.

Nessie Jones, the town's librarian, didn't like Dylan. Of course, Nessie didn't like anyone anyway, for whatever reason she could find. The love of her life was books and a mystery man she claimed to be married to that no one ever saw.

Behind Dylan's back, Nessie always curled her lip and wrinkled her nose, as if his deodorant had failed in its job...which might be case, since he always smelled smoky and impossibly virile to Kaily.

Even though she did try to avoid him, because of her obsession with knowing more about him why make herself look like a prize-trussed fool in front of everyone by groping him with questions still, they were always running into each other, and Kaily always became turned-on, and positively inebriated by his scent.

Okay yes, Kaily admitted, now she did look good and trussed up, the way the length of red ribbon wound around her body. At least, by what she could see. There was a slice of her reflection in the tall narrow mirror near the fireplace mantle.

With the bow dangling from one hand, Kaily wondered if she should position it over her well-furred pussy not completely covered by the ribbon. Or maybe, the large showy bow should nestle between the swells of her breasts...or be placed like a centerpiece above her ample-enough cleavage.

"Ooooh...Santa baby, waitin' just for you," she crooned like the song, then pursed her lips in an attempt to look sexy.
~~~~~~

Blurb:

Kaily has been consumed by curiosity ever since Dylan suddenly appears in her small town. Surreptitiously, she watches the mystery man restore a rundown Victorian mansion, all while his charm and sincerity gain him the good will of most everyone. This is especially true when he volunteers to become the annual Santa Claus for the children at the town's park.

The problem for Kaily: No one really knows anything about Dylan's past or where he came from. With her attraction to him growing day by day, she becomes a driven woman. On a desperate whim, she gives herself to him as a Christmas present. Will Dylan be able to resist her waiting naked, but gift-wrapped beneath his tree?
~~~~~~

Now Available for 99 cents at ~ SMASHWORDS & AMAZON

Coming Soon to other ebook vendors.

~~~~~~

Have the merriest of holidays!

Savanna

Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance ~

~~~~~~

Naughty or nice? Hmmmm...I write steamy, historical westerns. Guess the readers will have to check out one of my books and decide. Pinch of Naughty is coming soon from Ellora's Cave. Quincy's Woman, Perfect Strangers and Five Card Stud are available now.

B&N / Amazon / ARE / Ellora's Cave

Visit Gem @ WEB / TWITTER / FB

Am I naughty? Or, am I nice?

This is an interesting question that requires deeper thought and a bit of evidence. An examination of sorts just might give us the answer.

First let me look at the following picture. Go right ahead and look too. You too can take Christa’s simple, two-step Naughty or Nice test.

(Pillow Fight)

Now, to determine one’s status as naughty or nice it is good to define what each means.

naughty (ˈnɔːtɪ)
— adj , -tier , -tiest
1. mischievous or disobedient; bad
2. mildly indecent; titillating

nice /naɪs/
— adj,
1. virtuous; respectable; decorous
2. suitable or proper

Since we have something to refer to now, let’s examine another picture….

(Beach Santas)

A few notable quotes might help for a reference point:

Let's be naughty and save Santa the trip.
Gary Allan

It is nice to be important, but it's more important to be nice.
John Templeton

(You are looking at the pictures again aren’t you?)

I know that my mind does not have any virtuous, respectable or proper thoughts in it, right now. So, that’s all the evidence I need to diagnose my present state of mind….

I’m NAUGHTY But…
I’m also NICE because I shared that lovely photo with you!

So who is with me in the naughty group?

May you have the naughtiest, nicest Christmas Day!
Christa www.christapaige.com

Click for your next stop on the Blog Hop

13 Things About Snowmen

2011-12-15T00:01:00.000-05:00

I've been entertaining children while parents go Christmas shopping, so I hope you'll pardon my sidestep into the land of goofy one-liners about Snowmen. =^_^= These were adorable, and I found some images that go right along with them. My favorite is the last. Ah, if only that worked for people, too.

1. What do you get when you cross a snowman with a vampire?
Frostbite.

2. How do you know when there is a snowman in your bed?

You wake up wet.

3. What does a Snowman take when he gets sick?
A chill pill.

4. What does a snowman’s wife put on her face at night?

Cold cream.

5. What is a Snowman’s favorite Drink?

Ice Tea.

6. What kind of cakes do snowmen like?
The kind with lots of frosting.

7. What happened when the snowgirl had an argument with the snowboy ?
She gave him the cold shoulder.

8. What do snowmen wear on their heads?
Ice caps.

9. What's the difference between snowmen and snowladies?
Snowballs.

10. What do snowmen call their offspring?
Chill-dren.

11. What happened when the icicle landed on the sowmman’s head?
It knocked him cold.

12. What do ou call a snowman in summer?
A puddle.

13. How does a snowman lose weight?
He waits for the weather to get warmer.

Have a fun holiday filled with the wonder of innocent play and fun.

Cold Nights, Hot Bodies

2011-12-14T07:03:00.005-05:00

Friend and fellow author, Lily Harlem’s newest release will be available today @ Ellora’s Cave. Yikes, I need Teflon coated gloves to handle it. It's hot, hot, hot!

Blurb:

All my life I’ve been the quiet bookworm, the office mouse. It hasn’t bothered me. Immersing myself in erotic novels has kept me wriggling on the edge of my seat at work and firmly entrenched in my own fantasy world at night.

Though one thing is bothering me—my damn virginity. If only I could find a sexy bedroom expert to introduce me to the delights of having a lover. Someone handsome and charming, who can rival the hunky alpha males in my books. I have a very vivid, very well-fed imagination—he’ll have to keep up.

Then, one bitterly cold night, thanks to a devious, conniving so-called-friend, the perfect opportunity to rid myself of this pesky virginal problem comes along. Before I know it, the heroes in my novels have come alive in the person of Shane Galloway, who’s pleasuring me with every trick in the book and wheedling into my heart in the hottest possible of ways.

Excerpt Link:

Check out Cold Nights, Hot Bodies @ Ellora’s Cave

Buy Today

Judging a book by its cover

2011-12-13T00:01:00.000-05:00

I admit it. I judge books by their covers. Unless I am familiar with the author, when shopping for books, I go first for a great cover, THEN I read the blurb. It's never the other way around.
I thought it would be interesting to go to different erotic romance publishers and check out their new releases and see what covers catch my eye.

Do you think they're as awesome as I do, or would different covers have captured your attention?

Sex. Cowboys. Sepia-toned cover. Yes, yes, and yes.

This woman just looks so naughty and sexy, I can't wait to read her story!

Love the title, for one. The colors also drew me in. And it just looks like a fun read.

Three hot guys and a shark? I'm so there.

Multiple hot guys. Beautiful, artistic cover--love the black and white.

I honestly don't know why this one captured my eye. I don't find the hero particularly appealing, but something about his expression just drew me in. And the hot (literally) colors. This cover just screamed for me to buy the book.

How do you choose books? Cover? Title? Author? All the above? None of the above?

Excerpt Monday - Perfect Strangers

2011-12-12T00:01:00.005-05:00

NEW FROM GEM SIVAD
2012 EPIC AWARD FINALIST
2011 PASSIONATE PLUME WINNER
2010 EPIC AWARD WINNER

BLURB Lucy and Ambrose Quince share fiery passion in and out of bed; they love hard but fight often, both having opinions and tempers. But Lucy mysteriously disappears in 1874, leaving the Double-Q ranch and all she loves behind. Three years later, scarred in mind and body, Lucy is drawn back to Eclipse and the life she’s forgotten—including a snarling, lustful husband.

Although she claims she can’t remember him, Ambrose hasn’t forgotten a damned thing. Lucy left him and he owes her nothing. Trouble is—his heart remembers too, and Lucy’s the only woman who’ll ever own it.

EXCERPT
They rode hard and silently. The stranger didn’t offer his name, and Lucy didn’t ask for it. It was sufficient to know that he was kin to her children and once, to her. She didn’t doubt that at all.

It was midmorning Friday by the time their exhausted mounts carried them into Eclipse, where the day’s entertainment had already begun. Folks were lining the streets—wagons and buckboards served as the gallery.

Lucy and her escort were behind the tightly packed crowd, too far from the gallows to reach it in time, but from horseback she had a clear view of the accused standing with the rope around his neck, feet planted defiantly, ready to swing.

Suddenly she locked gazes with the man about to be executed. Unsheathing the Winchester, Lucy hitched it to her shoulder and took aim.

Her new relative pulled his gun. “Put it away, lady. You’re not shooting anyone,” he warned her.

He had a choice—he could stop her with a bullet and let his brother strangle at the end of a rope or let her take her shot. She didn’t wait to discuss it. Steadying the rifle against her shoulder, Lucy sighted down the barrel and pulled the trigger.

Her bullet found the rope, cutting him loose at the same moment the hangman dropped the hatch. Ambrose Quince plummeted through the trapdoor, landing in a heap on the ground.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” her brother-in-law said, kneeing his horse into motion as Lucy chambered another round, following him through the gantlet of staring faces and the fifty guns trained on her. As they neared the law officials standing by the gallows, the expectant audience quieted, straining to hear the coming exchange. It wasn’t necessary. The sheriff cursed loud enough for all to hear.

“Goddammit, Ham, he’s been tried and found guilty. You didn’t have no call to cut him loose. That was a brand-new rope. Yer gonna pay for it and spend some time in jail for yer interference.”

Lucy paid no heed to the lawman, more interested in the man on the ground staggering to his feet. He was taller than his brother, with the same shaggy black hair and hard features. His picture hadn’t done him justice. He’d only looked stern before. Now he looked savage.

She nudged her horse toward the prisoner, ignoring the loud threats of the sheriff as he harangued. It was a bizarre occasion—her seated on her horse, pushing through the crowd toward an unknown man to whom she apparently was married.

Time hadn’t been kind since the photographer had captured Ambrose Quince’s likeness but when he turned his head and looked at her, she could see it was the same man she’d viewed in the tintype.

Lucy looked around for the children, being more interested in finding them than releasing the cold-eyed stranger she’d just saved. She could feel his eyes following her and like a magnet, her gaze returned to him. She was glad his hands were tied behind his back because even shackled as he was, his fingers opened and closed as though he wanted to strangle someone.

At the moment she had an uneasy feeling it might be her neck his fingers craved. As Lucy stared down at him he drawled, “It took you long enough to come home, Lucille.” Her name—Luseeaal—seemed stretched to ten syllables—hanging in the air between them, mocking her.

The sheriff’s curses piddled out as the crowd abandoned him, closing around her to hear her reply. The Winchester made an impressive noise as she chambered a round.

Leaning forward she asked, “Mr. Quince, where are my children?”

Ambrose looked surprised at the same time the sheriff said, “That ain’t Lucy Quince. It’s someone shammin’, pretending to be her.”

“Why would you say that, sheriff?” It wasn’t an accident when Lucy turned the rifle toward the words and left Ambrose standing, still bound.

The sheriff gulped, noticeably shocked when he faced the barrel of her Winchester. He dropped his hand from the gun he’d been reaching for and said, “Lucy Quince didn’t give a damn about her children when she was here, and if you’re who you say you are, you walked away from them without even a kiss my ass or goodbye. The Lucy Quince I knew wouldn’t have asked about her children.”

Lucy said, “I just hate it when a man tries to beat a woman down with words.” She pulled the trigger and shot a hole next to his foot. Dirt kicked up and splattered both him and her brother-in-law.

Ham didn’t even flinch but the sheriff stumbled back, swearing, “Jesus Christ, Lucy, they’re over in the wagon.” He’d given her children front-row seats.

If the sheriff hadn’t pointed at them, she wouldn’t have recognized them from the tintype. Three years was a lot of growing time for youngsters. Lucy added another count to the list of horrors committed against her. She’d lost time with her children.

She faced them from the back of her horse, suddenly devoid of the courage needed to climb down and stand before them.

The girl, who had neatly braided hair the same brown color as her mother’s, glared at Lucy from aquamarine eyes that matched her own. “You’re not my mama. Mama was a lady and she was beautiful. You’re not my mama. My mama’s dead.”

Lucy judged the little girl to be about eight years old. Her freckles stood out on her round cheeks and she trembled in shock, having just witnessed her father snatched from sure death.

The boy with his arm around her shoulders had changed just as much since his picture. Then he’d been stocky, baby chubbiness not quite melted away. In the picture he’d looked at his mother—at Lucy—with eyes of adoration.

Now, even sitting, she could tell that he’d grown taller, thinning down like his father. His hair was black and he pinned her with an accusing stare that screamed he’d never seen her before. But his words said different.

“No, Brody, she’s our mother all right. And now they can’t hang Pa because she’s alive.”

Lucy was satisfied to see her children had inherited her intelligence. Together, the kids stood up in the wagon and turned to the sheriff.

The little girl spoke first. “Sheriff Bailey, this is our mama. You need to turn loose our pa.” Quivering bottom lip or not, she delivered her order without hesitation.

Lucy turned her rifle and horse back toward the sheriff to lend her encouragement.

Ham had already cut their father free. Now Ambrose stood chafing the blood back into his hands, an almost smile curling his lip as he watched his children take on the law.

There was no doubt that he was grinding his teeth when his gaze swung to her. Curious, she returned his stare. In her other life, she’d apparently taken a predator to husband. Now she tightened her grip on the rifle, thankful for her Mondays of target practice.

He didn’t waste words but mounted the horse his brother led forward. Lucy didn’t know where home was, but the brothers made it clear she was accompanying them there. Her son handed his pa a hat that looked huge in the young boy’s hands but settled on top of Ambrose’s head with a firm fit.

Suddenly the sheriff took it upon himself to lecture and interrogate her. “Lucy Quince, you can’t just ride back into town and take up where you left off.”

She ignored him ’til he demanded, “Where have you been hiding?”

Lucy inexplicably hated the man so much she had to stop herself from shooting him. “That would be none of your business, Sheriff. I’ll take that up with those who need to know.” When the lawman tried to ease closer, she chambered another round, making no pretense about where she aimed.

He backed off fast, sputtering, “I’m the sheriff and you can’t threaten me.”

“I’m not threatening you. I’m telling you a fact. I don’t answer to any man who would sit children in a front-row seat to see their daddy get hanged no matter his crime. If it’s an elected official you are, these people should remember that and send you packing the next time they vote.”

Her finger itched on the trigger of the Winchester every time the miscreant opened his mouth. He took note of that and sidled away.

Unexpectedly, a man rushed from the bank as though he’d just realized he was missing something important. “Here now, here now, what’s this? What’s the holdup? Get on with things.”

Evidently the hanging wasn’t going fast enough to suit him since there were people blocking the bank entrance on what should have been a business day. When he saw her, he stopped in his tracks and backed up, white in the face. “Lucy?”

“Do you know me?” She edged her mount around to face him.

“Of course I know you. I’m the Eclipse Bank President, Stephen Pauley.” His self-important expression turned to doubt as he studied her.

Recognizing which threat was greater, Lucy shifted her rifle enough to keep it steady on the sheriff, dismissing the banker as unimportant. “It appears that people in Eclipse didn’t anticipate my arrival.”

Pauley shouldered his way closer ’til he stood next to her horse, looking up. “I’ll come out to the ranch when you get settled. We’ll talk when we don’t have an audience.” He nodded his head toward the children and the two Quince brothers.

She shook her head, not keeping her rebuff quiet. “If I have reason to need banking services, I know where you work.” Done talking, she backed Sheba to the buckboard, her rifle up and ready if anyone in the crowd decided to dispute the day’s outcome.

While Lucy had made herself the center of the spectacle, the brothers had readied to leave. Now Ambrose rode his horse next to her, nodded at his son and pulled his hat lower over his eyes. “Let’s get on home, Alex.”

The boy picked up the wagon reins and the Quince family set out, leaving the townsfolk to figure out if they were satisfied with the show they’d witnessed.

Lucy had plenty of time to think as she traveled with her silent escorts. Her almost-dead husband hadn’t said another word to her since his greeting, but he kept his horse jammed up close to hers, pushing at her every time she tried to slow down. Ham sectioned her off from the other side and the children bounced in the buckboard as everyone clipped along at a good pace.

She kept her arsenal handy, although she remained unafraid except when she felt the eyes of her children on her. She didn’t have any memory of them or their father. But whoever had knocked her around and disfigured her hadn’t stolen her wits.

First, she’d called herself Quincy Smith. She remembered adding the Smith because Roberta said she needed a last name. But from the time she’d started to mend, she’d had the word Quincy in her brain.

Second, if she’d had doubts before, seeing her daughter eliminated them. Brody was a miniature Lucy without the harsh overlay of life.

Frustration gnawed at Lucy when her memories remained hidden. She knew nothing more than what had happened in the three years since she’d come awake in Buffalo Creek.

Her face had been left untouched, as if her murderer wanted her identity known. The person or persons who had done that to her still remained undisclosed and nobody appeared interested in why or how she’d disappeared.

It occurred to her as she rode between the two grim ranchers that somebody in Eclipse was probably suffering from heart tremors about now. She’d risen and returned from the dead and it appeared her resurrection was an inconvenience for everyone except her family. It was odd to think of the two children and the hard-faced Quince man that way, but impossible to think otherwise.

The day was hot and lather from three horses flecked her skirts as the brothers kept her centered between them. It began to get irritating. After Lucy gave Ham a warning look, he put some distance between his horse and her mare.

Ambrose didn’t show the same respect. Finally, after he’d jammed against her leg for the third time, Lucy shook her boot loose from the stirrup on his side and waited for daylight to show between the horses. Then she lined up and let fly, catching his knee with a solid thump from her heel.

He glared at her but she didn’t care. It had felt good, as if she’d delivered a blow for past injustices. She was satisfied she’d made her point when he kept his distance the rest of the ride. When they reached an open gate that fronted a well-used dirt path, Lucy passed under the Double-Q sign mounted above the ranch yard entrance stoically. Here is where I’ll find the answers to who I am.

Ambrose dismounted and automatically turned to help Lucy from her horse. In former days she would have criticized him for ungentlemanly behavior had he not done so. Today she’d already stepped down and crossed the space separating her from the wagon.

Instead of heading for the house, she took hold of the harness and steadied the animal, waiting for Alex and Brody to climb out. No one thanked her and she didn’t look as though she expected it.

Brody hopped down and ran over to hug him hard, burying her face against his side for a moment. He lifted her high in his arms so she was eye level with him. “Guess the Quinces made it through another one together, Sugar Plum.” Then he caught sight of Lucy watching and set Brody to the ground.

“Take your mama to the house, Brody,” He turned to his son. “Alex, carry her satchel in for her.” Lucy remained outside the circle of conversation, listening as if she wasn’t being discussed.

“Where should I put her things?” Alex posed the question.

Brody answered vehemently, “She’s not sharing my room.”

Ambrose looked at his wife as the kids squabbled over where to put her. The heat of the day, his unexpected survival and the incredible reality of Lucy’s presence all contributed to a dizzy rush. His voice was gruffly hoarse, roughened by the squeeze of the rope earlier and the emotion that clogged his throat now. “Put her stuff where it belongs—in our room.”

Appearing disinterested in the discussion, Lucy studied the ranch yard as though she’d never seen the place before. But when Alex moved to take her satchel, she shook her head. “I need to rub down my mare and grain her.”

Ambrose wanted her in the house, suddenly anxious, as if she might disappear if he looked away. For all his control, he had to keep swallowing to wet his mouth before he could speak to her. “Go on in. I’ll see to the mare when I unhook the wagon.”

Rifle in hand, she silently followed their son into the house, taking time to look around at the weed-infested yard as she walked to the porch.

It did look a shade different from when she’d been here before. Her money had paid for the extras. The paint she’d insisted on covering the adobe block with was chipped and the once-red shutters were a rusty brown.

When they’d first married, he’d tried to explain that the Texas sun would steal the color and the wind and weather would sand away the paint, but Lucy had never been one to listen.

She’d come from back East and she had standards. If he’d heard that word once in his eight years of marriage he’d heard it a thousand times before she’d left. Standards.

There were more changes than a little paint. Her money had paid wages for the housekeeper and her money had bought the fancy cushions and covers on the furniture. Hell, her money had bought the furniture. He’d been land-poor and cattle-proud, and he still was.

When Lucy disappeared, Steve Pauley had been more than pleased to shut off the flow of cash from Lucy’s bank account. Without it, the house and kids had suffered. But they’d made it. At least as soon as we get this herd to market the Double-Q will be solvent again.

Perfect Strangers by Gem Sivad now available

2011-12-11T00:01:00.001-05:00

A book in the Eclipse Heat series.

Lucy and Ambrose Quince share fiery passion in and out of bed; they love hard but fight often, both having opinions and tempers. But Lucy mysteriously disappears in 1874, leaving the Double-Q ranch and all she loves behind. Three years later, scarred in mind and body, Lucy is drawn back to Eclipse and the life she’s forgotten—including a snarling, lustful husband.

Although she claims she can’t remember him, Ambrose hasn’t forgotten a damned thing. Lucy left him and he owes her nothing. Trouble is—his heart remembers too, and Lucy’s the only woman who’ll ever own it.

Available now from Ellora’s Cave!

READ AN EXCERPT

Reader Advisory: This book contains rape and graphic violence. This title was previously published elsewhere as Intimate Strangers, but has been extensively revised for Ellora’s Cave.

GEM SIVAD

2012 EPIC AWARD FINALIST

2011 PASSIONATE PLUME WINNER

2010 EPIC AWARD WINNER

2011-12-10T02:00:00.002-05:00

Holiday romance flashes, holiday eye candy, prizes galore... how about a Kindle Fire, want to win one?

Have a magickal holiday season!

Savanna

Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance ~

Flirty Friday - Pinch of Naughty

2011-12-09T00:01:00.001-05:00

Need something to heat up a cold winter night?

Coming this month from Ellora’s Cave!

Cyrus Burke works hard for every penny he makes. Being a successful rancher is about being a good businessman and he prides himself on knowing where to cut costs. His housekeepers are round the clock employees providing night duty too. When Mrs. Lacey applies for the position, she looks like a promising candidate. Delicious in fact, as smooth and creamy as a tasty tart.

Eleanor Lacey is rich, ruined and furious. She’s either divorced, or widowed before the final decree.With her marital status in question, a fortune rides on the decision of Connecticut lawyers. Having devised a scheme to regain her place in society, Eleanor visits Texas relatives. Once there, posing as a needy widow with a fine hand at making pastries, she adds some zest to her previously pallid dish of life.

Recipe for hot love~Mix together one wickedly unscrupulous widow and one arrogantly masterful man, throw in a dash of decadent desire, stir in a pinch of sizzling naughty and turn up the fire.

Gem Sivad Ellora's Cave ISBN: 9781419936555

GEM SIVAD

2012 EPIC AWARD FINALIST

2011 PASSIONATE PLUME WINNER

2010 EPIC AWARD WINNER

Thursday 13 - Thirteen Holiday Hotties

2011-12-08T09:09:00.002-05:00

It's the wonderful holiday season and Santa's helpers are pretty busy.

However, I managed to capture a a few to take their photos.

Enjoy!

1. Lovin' the mistletoe.

2. I hope this elf doesn't sleep through Christmas.

3. There's the 6 pack.... where's the pizza?

4. A gift for lil ol me? How sweet!

5. These boots were meant for walkin'.

6. This gal makes sure the reindeer take off.

7. Not sure if I want to know what she can do with that candy cane.

8. Hmm... what's in the sack, Santa?

9. Feeling a little steamy? Better cut back on the hot cocoa.

10. I love snowball fights... they usually end with a tickle fight.

11. I think somebody needs some help with the lights.

12. Sparkly.

13. Uhm...Naughty?

Okay.. for an extra TT bonus... I'm letting you in on a secret. The 8 reindeer are actually shapeshifters.

HAVE A NAUGHTY CHRISTMAS!!!!

Give the gift of life this year.

Please take time to read this article

13 surprisingly easy ways to help homeless pets

Mary Quast - Writing sensual romance with a creative soul.
As an artist and erotic author, Mary Quast paints the word images stimulating the imagination.

Thursday 13 - Sex tips to boost your love life

2011-12-08T00:01:00.000-05:00

It's important to remember that sex should be fun.

1. Massage each other

Invest a little money in some oils and candles and then try massaging each other. Make sure you lie on your front and just let the hands and fingers do the walking. And, if neither of you are squeamish about it, foot massage can also be very erotic. It means you can massage each other at the same time, should you so wish.

2. Small kisses

Work your way all the way down the body using little butterfly kisses. Use your tongue sparingly and try not to snog. Instead lightly caress his skin with your lips. The longer you avoid his genitals, the more turned on he'll get.

3. Change the scenery

Try making the living-room or another room the scene for some action. If it makes it easier and more comfortable, bring down the duvet and some cushions/pillows.

4. Pleasure yourself in front of each other

This might take a bit of getting used to, but both of you will become enormously turned on, whether you're the watcher or the watched.

5. Try a new position
We're all creatures of habit and like certain positions more than others, but try something new for a change. Whether you go on top for a change, or do it standing up, you may find a new position that really does it for you both.

6. Get minty
Suck an after-dinner mint and wait until there's almost nothing left. Then go down on your partner. The sensation will be unlike anything they've experienced before.

7. Watch yourselves
Getting down to it in front of a mirror can be very erotic. If you don't have a mirror in your bedroom, try moving one from another room. Many women never really see their genitals and it can be a turn-on to see what's going on down there.

8. Go 69
It's a tried and tested technique, but if you've never tried it before, then now's the time to give it a go. After all, what's better than both of you having oral sex at the same time.

9. Dress up
Find out what each of you find sexy, whether it's uniforms, French maids or something else and then put on an outfit. Then you'll have to act it out a little. It's great fun and also a way to spice things up.

10. Use your whole body
Sex isn't just about the bits below your belly button and above your knees. By exploring each other's bodies from top to toe, you may even find new erogenous zones that get each other going.

11. Toy story
Introducing a vibrator into the bedroom can have a dramatic effect. Whether you use one on your fella, or let him use it on you, it doesn't matter, as long as you have fun.

12. Get slippery
Using a lubricant is not only useful for making sure there's no nasty rubbing, but it can make the sensation of touching each other more sensual.

13. Try some aphrodisiacs
Whether they work or not is still open to debate, but it adds something to the foreplay, if you're feeding each other asparagus or drinking hot ginger extract. Remember, sex is fun, not a chore.

Romance author and Artist Mary Quast lives in a log home affectionately named "Camp Run-A-Muk" located in the woods of Michigan with her husband, three sons, and a collection of animal family members.

As a professional artist, Mary Quast answered the call to express herself creatively. With her descriptive writing style she has developed a knack for creating passionate characters and realistic settings. These features are prominent in her published novels of the "Soul Series".

When she’s not busy writing contemporary romance novels, novelettes, and short stories, Mary doles out sensual tips and yummy eye candy on her blog “Romantic Interludes” where her Thursday Thirteen lists have earned the nickname of “Dr. Ruth of the Blog World”. She also can be found lecturing college classes on the importance of Journal writing.

Visit Mary's website or her blog Romantic Interludes


Romance Cover Model Jimmy Thomas

Romance Writers Behaving Badly

Thursday Thirteen – 13 Things to Do with Whipping Cream

Funny Cats Contest - Pictures!

Happy Valentines Day!

Below, in a sweet snippet from my Eclipse Heat title, Quincy’s Woman, Lucy and Quincy have quarreled and Lucy decides a valentine may help her make up.

I hope you enjoy!

Excerpt Monday - Queen of Hearts

Cupid's Choice Bog Hop at ShapeShifter Seductions

Top 13 Reasons Why Not to Read Romance

Forbidden Pleasures, Forgiven Desires

Tasty Tuesday - Amaretto Brownies

Short Stories from Erotic Autor Kris Andersson

When In Rome...

When Inspiration Strikes

Guest blogger: Kris Andersson

Sunday with ShapeShifter Seductions ~ Blue Water Dragon

Cowboy Love

13 Reasons Why I Read Romance

Humpday Help - A Little Indulgence!

If Wishes Were Husbands

A Hero By Any Other Name

Six Sentence Sunday - Handcuffs & Silk

Sexy Re-telling of Snow White by Lucy Felthouse

Wild & Wonderful World of BDSM

Thursday Thirteen - 13 Way to Cook Up Some Passion

Adult Toys in the Future

Saturday With ShapeShifter Seductions ~ 2012 Predictions by Gypsy Red Wolf

13 Sex Tips

13 Ways to Gain Readers

Release Day: Reckless in Moonlight

The ShapeShifter Seductions Calendar ~ January 2012

2012 Calendar Hunks

New Year's Eve at the Galactia Ecstasy

Happy New Year!

13 Ways to Be a Humble Writer

Merry Christmas Everyone!

Thursday Thirteen: Defining Success

What If You're Not in the Mood

Howliday Greetings from ShapeShifter Seductions

And the winner is....

Stuff Your Stockings Christmas Blog Hop 2011

13 Things About Snowmen

Cold Nights, Hot Bodies

Judging a book by its cover

Excerpt Monday - Perfect Strangers

Perfect Strangers by Gem Sivad now available

Flirty Friday - Pinch of Naughty

Thursday 13 - Thirteen Holiday Hotties

Thursday 13 - Sex tips to boost your love life