Tuesday, December 9, 2008

New! From Red Rose Publishing!

Sand Castle
A sweet contemporary romance for the Christmas holidays
by Linda Mooney

Terrie Myers never believed life would give her a second chance at anything. Little did she understand the draw of a little girl with dreams of a knight in shining armor. Or the magic of hope that would turn those dreams into reality.

Now On Sale Here

She had finished washing the few dishes she’d used for supper when there was a knock on the door. Terrie’s eyes immediately went to the clock radio sitting on the table. It was a little past seven. Who on earth could be?
Madge. Maybe it was Madge.
Point Maddin had very little if any crime. Mostly petty thefts, graffiti spray painted on fences, and a few slashed tires. But after living in Tulsa as long as she had, Terrie had qualms about leaving her home unlocked, or opening her door without knowing first who was on the other side.
“Who is it?”
“Uhh, Paul Leeds. Are you the lady who played with Molly on the beach today?”
Well, what do you know! The girl did name the knight after her daddy!
“Hold on!” she quickly unlocked the door. She opened it, and literally gasped to see the man standing on the other side.
In the porch light she could see he was tall and broad-shouldered. Dark reddish-brown hair, maybe chestnut. And the most gorgeous blue eyes she’d ever seen on a human being. Vaguely, she wondered if he wore colored contacts.
“Uhh. Yeah. What’s wrong? Is something the matter?”
“Oh, no! Nothing’s wrong. In fact, Connie told me about you taking the time to play with her. No, uhh...” He held out the net beach bag Terrie had left behind. “Molly said this was yours.”
“Thank you.” It was difficult to breathe. It was like his presence was sucking all the oxygen out of the place. She reached out to take the bag, and her whole body trembled.
Good Lord, what’s wrong with me?
“I also wanted to thank you...Terrie, right?” He smiled, and Terrie swore she could feel herself beginning to puddle all over the plank flooring.
Why don’t you ask him inside? a little voice whispered inside her head.
Are you nuts? He’s a married man!
“Yes. I’m sorry. Terrie Myers.” She held out her hand. The moment she did, she knew she was done for.
Sure enough, when his warm fingers closed over hers, Terrie had to clutch the door just to keep herself on her feet. She was amazed she still was able to speak coherently.
“Terrie. Well, thank you for being such a good neighbor.”
“Yeah. Connie told me you were from Tempe.” A little giggle escaped her. “Quite a contrast between here and there.”
He laughed softly. So softly she wished she could press her cheek to his chest and listen to it echo. “I don’t think you could get much more of a contrast than between those two places. Are you a permanent resident here, Miss Myers?”
For a moment there Terrie got the distinct impression that the man wanted to be asked in. But that wouldn’t be kosher.
“Umm, pretty much so. Now. My family’s owned this place for several decades. I’ve just recently moved back myself...on a permanent basis.” She managed a smile and hoped he wouldn’t notice how nervous she was.
Or maybe he did. At least he realized she wasn’t going to invite him inside.
“Well, I need to be getting back to the house. Thank you again, Miss Myers. Next time you come by, you’re welcome to join us for hot chocolate. Or some spiced cider, being the season and all.”
“Thank you. That sounds nice.”
He made a half-hearted gesture, like a wave, and left the porch. Terrie stepped outside where she saw him get into a small sports car before driving away. Going back inside her bungalow, she wondered how the Leeds managed to find their way to Point Maddin, population two hundred and fifty-eight, when most of the out-of-towners were down during the summer months.
More than that, Terrie wondered how she was going to keep from dreaming tonight about the good-looking Mr. Paul Leeds without feeling any sort of guilt.

Monday, December 8, 2008

A Walk in the Woods by Jessica Freely

In the Shades of Autumn Taste Test anthology.

Blurb:Heartbroken over a cruel prank played on him by his crush, George isn’t watching where he’s going. The next thing he knows, he’s fallen headlong into love.

Buy Link:


George wasn’t sure if the offered part was for real or just a ploy to get him to Nate’s room, but he didn’t care. A great shot at a good part or an afternoon of wild sex with the hottest guy on campus: it was all good.

He arrived at Nate’s to find him alluringly clad in hip-hugging sweat pants and a thin tank top. Nate was just putting the finishing touches on the dragon costume, and his arms and face sported a few, adorable smears of green paint. But he wasn’t alone. Rebecca Haines and Victor Chessel were there as well, lounging on the bunk beds.

Nate handed George the script, and asked him to read a few pages. But after only a few lines, he stopped him.

“Do you like me?” Nate asked.

George stared at him. His heart pounded. “Yeah, you’re nice.”

Nate shook his head, his smile crooked. “No. You know what I mean. Do you like me like me.” He pulled his shirt off, revealing a sculpted chest and honey-gold skin. His rose-brown nipples peeked out from a light dusting of curly blond hair. George swallowed. His mouth was dry, all of a sudden.

Nate stood close to George. George could feel the man’s body heat. It made him sweat. He tried to get his breath under control. “I… uh…”

“You’re gay, right?”

George nodded. He shot a glance over to the bed, to Rebecca and Victor. They were a couple, he knew that. They looked on with grave eyes and reassuring smiles. What was this, some kind of group sex thing? Or were they just trying to be welcoming?

Nate draped one arm over George’s shoulder and cocked his hips. “Well?”

George glanced over to Rebecca again, and she gave him a little nod. He wasn’t really sure if this was his scene, but… this was Nate Hollingswood, after all. How could he turn him down? With a sigh, George put his hands on Nate’s hips, closed his eyes, and leaned in for a kiss.

The next thing he knew, something rough and papery bumped him in the mouth. He opened his eyes.

“Psych!” said Nate, grinning, holding the papier-mâché dragon mask in one hand and pointing at George with the other. “Like I’d do a skinny freshman like you!”

George reddened. On the bed, Rebecca and Victor were laughing their asses off. “And in front of us, too. How desperate are you?”

George looked between the three of them, searching for something to say. He felt like he was going to throw up. He fled the room, their laughter and taunting voices dogging his heels as he ran.

Even now, it echoed in his ears, drowning out the sounds of birdsong and the rustle of the wind through dry leaves. Though his eyes told him that the park was beautiful, all his mind could focus on were the scornful faces of Nate, Rebecca, and Victor.

Which was undoubtedly how he tripped. One moment, he was trudging along, his hands in his pockets, his head down, cursing his fate and wondering if he should change schools, and the next he was sprawled on the ground beside a large pile of dead leaves, the wind knocked out of him.

Great. He couldn’t even walk straight. Looking down, he noticed he’d torn the knee of his jeans. Could this day get any worse? He flopped back onto the leaves, no longer caring if anyone saw him. So what? To hell with all of them, he decided. Nate Hollingswood was an asshole. Why should he care what Nate and his fawning acolytes thought?

He took a deep breath, staring up at the trees overhead, noticing as if for the first time the splendor of their fall display. Myriad shades of red, orange, yellow, brown, and purple lit the woods with their glory. He sighed. Somehow, just lying here, cushioned by a pile of dead leaves and taking in the blue sky and the brilliant colors, he felt better.

That was when he noticed movement in the leaf pile. He sat up again. This pile of leaves was large, rising as high as five feet or more in the middle before tapering off again at the other end.

Anything could be hiding in here.

Visit Jessica's blog for m/m news, culture and free fiction: http://friskbiskit.com

Friday, November 28, 2008

Scars by Jessica Freely

Blurb: In Scars, David and Seth begin to experience repercussions from the night they met. The police have found the body of the gang member Seth killed to protect David, and the other gang members are out for revenge. David's employer, Mr. Haverstock, is keeping tabs on the case and is asking David a lot of questions. When new information that links Seth to a prior murder is revealed, David's trust in Seth is tested. Meanwhile, Seth's search for a job hits a major snag and he resorts to old habits. David's quest to learn the truth about Seth's past may uncover more than he wants to know.

Buy link: http://www.torquerebooks.com/index.php?main_page=product_info&manufacturers_id=119&products_id=1637

Closing up the book shop, David marveled at what a difference a day could make. Yesterday at this time he'd been bored, lonely, about to be… He shook his head and focused on Seth, standing by the door, waiting for him. Now he had someone to walk home with, someone to make love with, someone to share his home and his life with. All of his fantasy men from the books he read -- Scaramouche, d'Artagnon, Sakr-el-Bahr -- paled in comparison to the flesh and blood reality of his true hero, Seth.

As they walked home David took comfort in Seth's proximity. He was tired now, and the euphoria from the sex was dying down and they were coming up on the place where it had happened.

Seth, as if sensing David’s unease, edged closer to him. "It's okay."

David nodded. "I know." And he did. The empty lot next to the Stamping Plant brought back bad memories, but he knew he was safe with Seth. His real fear was not for himself. "But… the cops were investigating this morning. Mr. Haverstock told me."

Their feet echoed on the pavement as Seth became even more quiet than usual. At length he sighed. "I guess that was bound to happen."

Even though there was no one around, David lowered his voice. "We should have disposed of the body somehow. I never even thought of that."

Seth shrugged. "Me neither but then, I didn't expect… Anyway, don't worry about it. The only person who can ID me is you."

"What about those other two guys, the ones who ran away?"

"No," said Seth. "They're Lions."

"The gang?"

"Yeah. They won't go to the cops. They handle a thing like this themse--"

For the first time since the night before, true terror gripped David by the guts. "Shit!"

Seth waved his hands. "It's okay. No, no. Don't worry."

David grabbed Seth by the arm and started dragging him at a trot. "Let's go." He looked up and down the street. It was empty, which was not unusual at this time of night. What with the economy around here, a lot of people had moved out of state. Vacant lots and abandoned buildings were as common as occupied ones.

Seth refused to be dragged. He continued to walk at a normal pace as David tugged on his arm like a yappy dog. "You're only calling attention to us."

He was right. David went back to walking normally, beside him, but he kept scanning the street. "You need new clothes, and a shave. And tie your hair back so you won't look the same. Anybody's looking for you, they'll be looking for a homeless guy. Not you."
"…they'll be looking for a homeless guy. Not you."

Seth bit back a gasp of surprise. In wonderment, he let those incredible words sink in. The night was dark and chilly, and dangerous, but it was as if he and David walked in a little bubble of warm light. His body, still filled with pleasure from their lovemaking, felt relaxed and the cool air felt good on his skin. David was beside him, whole and unharmed and real. This was real.

When he thought of what he had escaped from, and what he had settled for, walking home with David like this was far beyond anything thing he could have imagined or hoped for.

They came to the apartment building and David fished the key out of his pocket. "I'll have to get another one made," he said with a smile.

Seth smiled back and tried to ignore the sudden thickness in his throat. He didn't want to waste another single moment on tears. He'd nearly cried again after their lovemaking tonight. Surely, David was getting sick of that. It was just that this was so new, so different from anything he'd expected. It was all such a beautiful dream, and of course, Seth knew that they'd awake from it eventually. Something would put a stop to this -- the police, the Lions, the differences between them. But for now, he wanted to savor every second of this special time.

David opened the door and Seth followed him into the small apartment made even tinier by the shelves and shelves of books lining nearly every wall. They shed their jackets and draped them over the arm of the large, overstuffed armchair in the living room. David turned to him and wrapped his arms around Seth's waist and it was the most natural thing in the world for Seth to circle David's shoulders with his arms. The two of them fit together perfectly. Like they were made for each other. Seth smiled and shook his head, silently laughing at his own sappiness.

David tilted his head, looking up at him. "What is it?"

"Nothing. Just… everything."

David's smile was tender, his laugh understanding. "I know what you mean."

Surprise made Seth blink. Could it be that this turn of events was just as unexpected and precious for David as it was for him? He thought of David living alone here with his books. As yet there'd been no mention any family or friends. Looking at David now, he saw the loneliness in his eyes, the longing. There was only one answer.

Seth bent his head and captured David's mouth in a kiss. Soft and tender, their lips caressed each other and their tongues met in a sweet, slippery dance of taste and touch. They wrapped their arms around one another tighter, bodies pressing together as the kiss deepened, as they drank from one another all the love, companionship and desire they longed to give and receive.

Visit Jessica's blog for m/m news, culture and free fiction: http://friskbiskit.com

Thursday, November 20, 2008

The Coldest Kiss by Joanna Wylde

ISBN: 978-1-59632-825-9


Nobody dies tonight.The words trauma nurse Summer Kelly found written in the steam on her bathroom mirror make no sense, and they disappear as quickly as the phantom lover of her dreams. How could she know that Death himself has fallen in love with her? And how could she resist him? He's perfect in every way, from his incredible physique to the slightly-tilted slant of his exotic eyes.He'll make her body sing, leave her begging her for his touch, and all she has to give up to be with him forever is...her life. It's time for Summer to decide -- will she accept the Coldest Kiss?

Publisher's Note: This book contains explicit sexual content, graphic language, and situations that some readers may find objectionable: Graphic trauma center situations.


October 30, 3:00 p.m.

Summer's lover leaned back against the pillow, reaching out with one hand to touch her cheek. She nuzzled him, allowing her gazes to run over his form. Light hair, just long enough to look a little shaggy. Chiseled features, with high cheekbones and eyes holding a touch of Asia.
And then there was his body.

Dear lord, his body… She'd never met anyone built like that before, just like someone out of the movies. Smooth muscles worked under nearly hairless skin. Buff without being bulky, he had the look of a man who could run for miles, swim forever, capable of chasing down anyone without even trying. How she wound up with him she had no idea, but she'd be damned if she'd ever let him go.

He ran his finger along her chin and then reached up, tripping it across her lips. She gave a low, throaty chuckle, catching it in her mouth. She sucked it in, tasting the slightly salty essence of him overlaid with her own musky juices. He'd had that finger in her earlier, and just the thought of it was enough to make her wet.

Damn, the things he knew how to do with that finger.

Summer suckled him deeper, willing him to sense through her mouth how much she wanted him, how he made her complete, how his very scent made her want to crawl deep into his body and stay there forever. She reached down with one hand under the sheets, following the hard line of his abs to the hard length of his cock already rising under the soft fabric. Mmmm, that's the stuff. Hot, hardening quickly. She felt along his smooth length, musing for the thousandth time at the contrast between the hardening bulk under his still slightly loose skin. She played the loose skin a bit, rubbing it against the stiffness underneath until there was no give left in his flesh.

He sighed, leaning back and allowing his eyes to close. They both knew her next move.
She pulled her head away from his hand, allowing the finger to slowly slide free. He smiled softly, anticipating. Then she leaned over him, kissing his lips, his chin, the soft skin at the base of his neck. Just the slightest bit of stubble, not enough to be rough against her flesh, but enough to remind her that before her lay a true male. He might allow himself to remain passive, but she knew just how much coiled strength his form held. He lifted his hands up to her shoulders, kneading them, offering her the slightest bit of pressure downward. She gave a low laugh, filled with the power of a woman who knows how much she's wanted.

"You know the rules. Don't get greedy," she said, shrugging him off. At the same time she gave his penis a bit of a squeeze, emphasizing her point. He nodded, that satisfied smile growing broader. They both knew how to play this little game; they'd been together forever, each day building on the next.

She kissed down his chest, his skin scraping slightly against her moistened lips. Shoulder blade, the edge of his pectoral, and then dusting around one nipple. She saw the small, brown flesh there tighten, little nubs ringing it as he stiffened up. His penis hardened under her fingers, and he gave a little groan. Summer's tongue flicked out, playing with the nipple. The muscles of his chest went hard with tension and she knew she'd pushed him almost too far.


She allowed her tongue to trail away from the nipple, following the hollow between his pecs down to his stomach, licking over the ridges of his taut abdominal muscles. She paused at his navel, tongue darting in, and then gave another throaty laugh as his already tense body tightened further. Without further teasing, she dropped her head and pulled his cock into her mouth, sucking it in deeply. She tasted him, traces of the salty sweet seed she knew he longed to spill into her body. Yum. Twice now he'd come, but the man was unstoppable, always ready to share himself with her.

She bobbed her head up and down on him, sucking in and letting go, working with her tongue to give him as much pleasure as he'd given her this evening. Love filled her heart, spilling over throughout her entire being. She wondered if a woman could burst from love, from the profound sense of joy and excitement that came from being with the person who formed the other half of your soul.

He groaned and his hips bucked up under her mouth. She pulled him in once more and then --
-- the scream of her alarm clock broke the moment. She looked up at him, panicky, and found nothing. Instead her eyes snapped open on an empty bedroom in a cheap apartment.

Reality set in.

Another fucking dream, and they always ended just as things were going to get really good. Well, not always, but still… How bloody unfair was that? And why did they all have to be about that creepy guy at the hospital? Although to be fair, he wasn't actually creepy, he was hotter than hell. She saw him in the ER all the time, but never could figure out what he did. Not a medical professional, he always wore a suit. Nobody else seemed to notice him, or at least they never mentioned him. Probably a lawyer; they liked trauma centers. Vultures, all of them. Every accident was just a lawsuit waiting to happen.

The hot water of the shower did nothing to improve her mood. She certainly felt as sore as she might after a night of intense sex, and she stretched her limbs, feeling them creak and pop. This must be part of aging. She'd be thirty this year, and while it hadn't ever seemed that old, maybe this was the first sign.

Summer stepped out of the shower, and stood looking at the mirror blearily. Everything would be fuzzy until she got her contacts in for the day, but there was something weird about the misty surface. She leaned in, peering like an owl, feeling positively elderly. Was it her imagination, or was there something written on it?

Dear God, there was. Clearly, as if someone had dragged a finger through the condensation.
Nobody dies tonight.

She blinked, fumbling for her glasses to double check. Nothing but steam covered the mirror. No words, just one crazy woman peering around like a deranged owl. Lovely. Horny and losing her mind -- just the right way to start the day. Hopefully things would be better once she got to the hospital. Her patients needed the best she had to offer.

Copyright 2008, Joanna Wylde

To order this book or read other works by Joanna Wylde, please visit: http://www.joannawylde.net/

Tuesday, November 4, 2008

Virgin by Jessica Freely

Virgin by Jessica Freely

ISBN: 978-1-59632-741-2

Buy Link: http://www.loose-id.com/detail.aspx?ID=758

Blurb: Joam is an eighteen-year-old auto mechanic whose cruel boss barely pays him enough to live on. He sleeps on a cot in the back of the shop and dreams of making love with a hot cowboy, but he can't let anyone know he's gay, and his boss has other reasons for keeping him a virgin. Then one day Joam's fantasy boy walks into the shop and Joam discovers that in order to free himself and protect his newfound love, he needs to embrace the very things he's worked hardest to hide.

Dressed in tight cutoffs, a midriff T-shirt, and a straw cowboy hat, Blake was the spitting image of Joam’s fantasy, an imaginary cowboy who rode into his dreams nightly. His erection was back. Had Blake noticed? Was he even gay? He looked gay but appearances could be deceiving.

He struggled with the issue all the way back to Beulah. Even if Blake was gay, he probably wouldn't want him; and if he was a hustler, as Joam suspected, there was no money to pay for sex. Fresh anger at Higgs shot through him. He was going to miss out on probably his one and only opportunity to have sex with a real live man and it was all because of that asshole.

But wait…Blake had said he didn't have much money. That meant he didn't have much money for the car repairs either… Maybe they could work something out…

If Joam ever got up the nerve to say something. They were almost in town already. Come on, he thought. A second ago you were ready to go a week without food for the sake of getting it on with this guy, what's the hold up? Afraid he'll say no? What's another humiliation in the greater scheme of things? And he's a stranger -- he'll be gone soon, taking your secret with him. There'll never be a better chance. "Why are you dressed like that?" he blurted.

All this time Blake had been silent, looking out the window, seemingly at ease, but now he tensed. There was a pause. At last he said, "I had to leave town in a hurry. I didn't have time to change."

Joam tried to ignore his disappointment. "So that's not what you usually wear? You were at a costume party or something?"

Blake laughed, but it wasn't a mean laugh. Joam knew it wasn't a laugh at him even before Blake said, "Oh my god. I'm sorry. It's just this situation. This is just so… Look. You seem like a decent guy, Joam, so I'm just going to tell you the truth and trust that you're not going to beat me up and leave me by the side of the road --”

Joam just managed to stifle a gasp. Blake thought he might hurt him? He'd been in the doorway of the office. Had he seen Joam with the chair? Had he seen more? Joam had thought nothing more had happened but there was no way to be sure. He turned to look at Blake just as Blake was finishing his sentence.

"-- I'm a hustler. A gay hustler."

Joam couldn't help it. He smiled then forced himself to look back at the road. They were in town now, just passing Sam's. "Don't worry," he said. "You've been nice to me. You shared your food with me. I would never hurt you. I --" He glanced over again, his last words unspoken. I want to make love with you.

The worry lines creasing Blake's forehead relaxed. He smiled back. "You're a good guy, Joam. I'm lucky I found you."

Sweating, Joam brought the truck to a stop at the blinking red light. The way Blake was looking at him -- so open and friendly -- he felt…seen, for the first time since his mom died. This was better than Jasper January. Suddenly brave, he said, "I don't have any money, but…I could fix your car for free."

Blake blinked in surprise.

Not wanting to see the distaste in his face, Joam looked away and concentrated on pulling the truck into the parking lot of the service station. What was he doing? What if Blake agreed but only because he had no choice? What was he going to do then? Let Blake "service" him because he held the power of car repair over him? Was that what he wanted?

Blake's tenor voice came to him, sweet and warm. "I think I understand what you're suggesting, Joam, and I think that would be lovely."

The words unleashed a torrent of emotion inside him and undid the last of his restraint. Lovely! He slammed the truck into park, heedless of the Olds on the hitch, which lurched forward with a crunch and a splintering of glass. The headlights. Fuck it. Higgs had some good ones, he'd steal 'em and install them when he did the other repair. His hands shook as he fumbled with his seatbelt and at last got it off.

He threw himself across the seat, grabbed Blake by the shoulders and kissed him hard. Blake's lips were soft and his stubble scraped against Joam's cheek, igniting every nerve in his face. Blake's shoulders beneath his hands were round and hard, like twin boulders. Their mutual arousal perfumed the close air of the truck cab and made Joam drunk. His dick, already sore from near-constant arousal, throbbed painfully. He took a deep breath and fought for control. It would be so easy to lose himself. As if of their own volition, his hands sought out the fly of Blake's shorts. "What…what do we do first?"

Blake's hands, warm and strong, closed over his fingers and squeezed, stilling their frantic efforts. "First, we go someplace private. Is there someplace we can go where we won't be interrupted?"

His heart sank, thinking of his cot. He didn't even have a curtain to close off the corner. Higgs could come in at any time and find them. Frustration brought tears to his eyes.

"Hey," Blake's voice was as gentle as the hand that stroked the side of his face. "What about that motel you mentioned? Could we go there?"

"I don’t have any money."

"I have enough, for tonight anyway."

Joam blinked, disbelieving. "But you're… I'm supposed to pay you."

"You're going to fix my car, remember? Besides, I'm going to have to pay for the room anyway. I need a place to sleep tonight." Blake's voice and his gentle hands calmed Joam. "It's okay."

Joam believed him.
Visit Jessica's blog for m/m news, culture and free fiction: http://friskbiskit.com

Friday, October 17, 2008

Best in Bed by Cheryl Dragon

Close friends can be an amazing gift or a major pain in the ass. Tonight one of my friends definitely chose to be the latter. Lori, Jen, and I shuffled into Jen's one bedroom apartment done in classic styles with everything meticulously organized and accessorized straight out of Ikea.

I kicked off my uncomfortable clubbing shoes with the chunk heels that set off my black jeans and red scoop neck fitted top. My cleavage was my best asset. Then I removed the red chandelier earrings that had been bugging me all night. "Lori, I think you are completely overreacting."

"I'm not, Marina." Lori slumped into an overstuffed chair and pulled her blond hair into a twist off of her neck and secured it with a clip. She was flawless in a stylish but elegant print dress that showed off her slim figure. "It's my thirtieth birthday and my life is over."

Lori had a flair for the extreme and dramatic. I guess that helped make her a good lawyer. She was either going to love her birthday or hate it. Clearly, she'd chosen not to embrace her new decade.

"It'll all look better over coffee and chocolate." Jen broke up our fight as usual and headed for the kitchen. She was neat as a pin in a brown dress with tiny pink flowers. It wasn't too revealing at all.

Lori and I had met in college. There was no holding back when we conversed and no hard feelings for our complete honesty. Jen was a newer addition. She'd moved into the third spacious apartment on our floor of the downtown Chicago building about a year back. Our bluntness hadn't rubbed off on her yet.

We preferred to hang out in Jen's apartment because she was neat and a chef. She had pretty copper pots and pans suspended from her ceiling and ropes of garlic that scented the whole apartment. Lori and I have never complained about being guinea pigs for her latest creation. Hopefully Jen had something good tonight because Lori was in a hellacious mood. Normally I contributed to the party as the designated bartender. Unfortunately, hard liquor wouldn't help tonight.

"You turned thirty, not sixty." I peeled off my black leather jacket and tossed it on Jen's couch before flopping down next to it. Out of habit, I began detangling my hair from the costume jewelry necklace I'd chosen. Grabbing a clip from my jacket pocket, I pulled my massive locks up and off my neck. No men here so the need for beauty was over.

The scent of coffee brewing filled the loft and I hoped it would help calm Lori, the caffeine junkie. Until the coffee was ready, I could try to distract her. "Take off those super high heels.
You're bitchy because your feet hurt."

"No, I'm not." Lori took off the shoes anyway. "You don't understand. You have six months until you turn thirty. Jen has nearly a whole year. This birthday makes you think. It makes you depressed."

"No, it's just a number." Jen offered chocolate covered scones and Lori began picking at one immediately. She was naturally skinny and a true blonde. No amount of junk food put an ounce on her. If she weren't my friend, I'd probably hate her. Of course, she envies my cleavage so we're even.

"Try a disaster. My twenties are over. No husband, no big house in the suburbs, and no kids." Lori slumped.

"No one to pick up after, less to clean, and no stretch marks. It could be worse." I grabbed a scone for myself and smiled as Lori glared at me.

"I've wasted my twenties." Lori's fist hit the coffee table.

"No you haven't," I groaned. This would be a very depressing and gray Chicago winter if Lori didn't get over this. The convenience of the three of us living on the same floor of the same building made winter socializing nicer. If Lori kept on this soapbox, however, it could make me want to tunnel my way through the snow barehanded to be anywhere else. "You've done a lot so far."

"Marina is right." Jen jumped in. "Lori, you're a top associate with a big law firm. The name is so fancy and long I can't even remember it. And your dad had no hand in getting you that job or your law degree. You'll make partner before you know it. All those hours of work got you where you are. That is not a wasted decade."

I added, "Most people who get married in their twenties end up divorced. You're taking your time, we all are. None of us are married. Are you saying we're all failures?"

"No, I thought I'd at least have met the right man by now. Maybe not be married but at least have found him. Now all the single men have kids or ex-wives. Who wants that baggage? And you two have it easier. I've got family pressure to get married and have a bunch of kids. Both of my brothers are married and settled and all I hear from my mother is how so-and-so's daughter is engaged or got married, or is having a baby." Lori moved from the sofa to the floor and focused on lighting a lavender scented candle on the coffee table. Her blue eyes stared at the flame as though it would have the answer. I wasn't about to play into her dramatics.

"Well you won't find a man sitting around here. None of us will. There were certainly none worthy at the bar tonight." Jen began to look depressed, like Lori, as she wiped off her tawny lipstick before biting into her scone.

I'd had enough. "Fine, that's it. I'm changing the subject. Lori, what's the best sex you've ever had?" I headed to the kitchen and opened a bottle of wine. Coffee was not going to cut it tonight.

Lori rolled her eyes at me. "This is not the time for Truth or Dare, Marina."

BUY LINK: http://www.pinkpetalbooks.com/bookstore/product_info.php?products_id=885

Best In Bed~~~~~~~~~~~~Available Now at Pink Petal Books
Arresting Abby~~~~~~~~Coming 10/21/08 to Loose Id

Thursday, October 16, 2008

Wicked Desire by Tory Richards

Maggie Myers returns home to rebuild her life and to escape her stalking ex-husband. To local small town sheriff Matt Dillon she’s more trouble than he needs. But the lady has enough sass and curves to tempt a saint. Well, he never claimed to be a saint, and Maggie is about to find out she’s been teasing the wrong man.


He threatened more than her peace of mind. Maggie was feeling things she hadn’t felt in a long time, yearnings long buried. She wanted to get closer to Matt if that were possible. Her fingers began to twitch beneath his hand, her palm smoothing against his flesh in an innocent caress. She shifted her leg cautiously, catching his indrawn hiss.

She wanted to feel more of him, so much more. Fire erupted inside her. She broke free of his gentle restraint and let the caress take her where it would, where he would let it. Knowing she would only get singed if he didn’t feel the same way.

In a lightning fast move Matt surprised her by grabbing her wrist and flipping her over. He moved over her body, pinning her on the bed. She gasped with surprise, powerless to move against the steely fingers encircling her wrist. The blood coursed through her veins like a spinning tidal pool, leaving her breathless at the intensity. Their eyes locked, their breaths becoming one. His expression was fierce, his eyes blazing down at her. He looked savage, like a hungry animal close to the end of his control.

“Do you know what you’re inviting?” His voice was hoarse with obvious need, almost angry. His nostrils flared with every breath he took. His gaze dropped to her lips, and Maggie parted them, running her tongue over them in anticipation of his kiss. “I wont be gentle, Maggie. I haven’t been with a woman in a long time.”

It came out like a threat. Did he want to hear her say no?

Whiskey Creek Press TorridAuthor's Website: http://www.toryrichards.com/

Wednesday, October 15, 2008

Courting Trouble by Renee Knowles

Renee Knowles

Length: 30,000 words

Rating: SpicyGenre: Historical Romance—Regency Period

Buy Link: http://www.thewildrosepress.com/index.php?main_page=product_info&products_id=896&zenid=dbda62af524fdca2ddfc368a5545f0ce


Lord Anthony Darby is determined to marry a wife with an exemplary reputation. Then he sees his childhood companion, gorgeous, scandalous, Lily Kennyon again. And all he wants is her in his bed. He decides to avoid her. Until her father makes him an irresistible offer: he'll sponsor Anthony's entry into an exclusive club, if Anthony will accompany his outcast daughter to society events. Can Anthony resist Lily's sensual lure? Or will his hunger make him lose control?

Lily has always rued her impulsive nature. Never more than when her defiance led to an accident, which paralyzed her sister. Afterward, she decided if her sister would never marry, neither would she. Yet she wants to experience lovemaking. So, when Anthony courts her, she devises a plan to seduce him. But she fears she's falling in love. Then she discovers Anthony's attentions were all part of a pact with her father…

A line of hot desire raced from Anthony's fingertips, up the length of his arms and down his spine. There was something vibrant and enticing about her. Her movements were spontaneous, not forced. She was so different from the lifeless ladies he'd been forced to dance with lately.

And, devil take it! She was Lily Kennyon. Little Lily Kennyon, whom he'd carried to the manor when she was three and had scraped her knee at one of his mother's garden parties. Who used to chase frogs and put them under her sister's pillow at night and pay the devil for it in the morning.

Apparently she still courted trouble. What had he been thinking to engage her in a dance? According to Hartwell, she'd quite a scandalous past.

But the pain in Lily's eyes when the countess had insulted her had crippled him. He hadn't seen her in eight years, yet he still felt the need to come to her rescue. Although, as his hand held hers and his temperature rose, he thought perhaps he was the one who needed rescuing.

"You don't have to do this," she said. "We're not children anymore. I can take care of myself."

"It would appear that I do." He twirled her. "Seems your fondness for causing havoc hasn't diminished with time."

She stiffened in his arms. "Then why concern yourself? I would have found a way to diffuse the situation."

"I had no desire to see my sister's assemblage become a spectacle." Anthony tightened his hold on her waist.

Her gaze narrowed. "You do yourself a great disservice in dancing with me, my lord."


"You will tarnish your own reputation. Although perhaps a charity dance won't be held against you."

He couldn't resist the urge to smile at her wit, but that only seemed to inflame her further.

Her eyes sparked. "What the devil are you smiling at?"

"A charity dance? Maybe I merely wanted to discover why you would challenge Lady Fairchild-Darben? From what I've heard you've been playing fast with your reputation. Why invite further scandal?" He whirled her with the steps of the dance, his breath coming fast.

Anthony was patently trying to ignore the brush of her skirts against his limbs, and the warmth of her skin radiating through the layers of her dress.

"If anyone should know the consequences of scandal," she said, "it would be me. I've lived it."

"As have I, Lily." For years he'd lived with rumors of his mother's unfaithfulness.

Anthony searched her eyes. "Perhaps you'd like to tell me the reason you've fallen out of favor with the ton? We could compare notes, Little Fleur."

"Still calling me by that juvenile name?"

"I have a weakness for them. As I do for the truth. Why did the countess make such a cruel remark to you?"

She bit her lip and glanced away. "It's a long story."

"Seems I'm a captive audience."

"It appears—" she took in the crowd "—that I have more of an audience than you."

As he spun Lily, he noticed several people were indeed staring, among them a sneering Lord Chamberlain, and Lily's father, Colonel Kennyon.

Damn and blast. Had he spoiled his chances with the colonel?

His alarm must have played out on his face, because Lily huffed and tried to pull away. "You're as stubborn as ever, Anthony Victor. You fed me sermons when I was a child, but I've no intention of being lectured any more this night."

Anthony held on, a tight smile pasted on his lips.

"Countess or not, she had no right to be so cruel to me."

"Perhaps, Lily. But she could ruin you with a word."

The music stopped. A sad, sardonic smile played at the corners of Lily's mouth, belying the sheen that had come into her eyes. "Then I have nothing to worry about, Anthony. For I am already ruined."

* * *
© Renee Knowles 2008
Renee Knowles
Sensual, Sassy and Slightly Sinful
Going Topless-"A must read.."--5 Stars--Euro-Reviews Out Now! Siren
Courting Trouble--Regency Historical--A Wild Rose Press Bestseller!
Guilty Pleasures--A Siren-Bookstrand Bestseller!

Good Enough for You by Robie Madison

Good Enough For You By Robie Madison

Publisher: Ellora's Cave
ISBN: 9781419918865

Buy Link: http://www.jasminejade.com/ps-5221-50-good-enough-for-you.aspx
[please note that there will be no buy option until the 24th]

my website: http://www.robiemadison.com/

Book 1 in the Heartbreak Anonymous series.

Brent arrives on Daisy’s doorstep with a lot of regret and a little hope. It’s been three years since they’ve spoken and Brent is haunted by the hell he’s endured since then—not least of all the circumstances that tore them apart. As he prepares to ring her bell, he lets his memory linger on happier times—on the spontaneous, intense passion they experienced behind the closed door he’s hoping will open.

The moment she sees Brent at her door, Daisy knows her “back to normal” life is about to change. As the memories start flooding back, Daisy’s attempts to block them prove futile. But while she remembers the pain and anger, Daisy has other memories of Brent—like his strong hands and the way they touched her. She might not have forgiven him yet, but she’s reluctant to forget him.

Now that the door is open, it’s up to Brent to make it right between them. It’s up to Daisy to decide if he can.


Copyright © ROBIE MADISON, 2008
All Rights Reserved, Ellora's Cave Publishing, Inc.

She sneaked another peek in his direction while he was eating. He had the wide shoulders of a quarterback. Wearing a suit the exact brown of his eyes with a patterned tie, he looked as though he’d stepped out of the pages of a magazine ad. The glimpse she had beneath the jacket at his cream colored shirt suggested he had a very lean torso. Idly, she wondered if his chest had a smattering of dark hair that arrowed straight down to his groin.

“I at least had the decency to let you keep your clothes on the other night.”

“What?” Startled, she looked up. His eyes were bracketed by tiny lines of amusement, but there was an undercurrent of tension behind his smile.

“Let me put it this way. If it weren’t for this tablecloth, those eyes of yours would have had me stripped bare-assed naked by now.”

Her fork clattered onto the plate and her hands flew to her face. “I wasn’t…” she started to say as a blush flushed her face. Then she laughed. “I was, wasn’t I?” She sounded amazed at her own audacity.

“Yes.” He flashed her a smile so heated she was surprised he didn’t singe the tablecloth. “I’m glad you like what you see.”

Unable to hold his stare, she picked up her fork and resumed shoving pieces of lettuce around her plate. “Are you fishing for a compliment, Mr. Chadwick? Because I have to tell you, you don’t look like any computer geek I’ve ever seen.”

“You checked me out?”

“Of course. You found me.”

He nodded, as if he hadn’t expected anything less. “I asked around last night. You didn’t look like the artsy type then.” His eyes appraised her, again. “You still don’t. And the name’s Brent.”

“Artsy type, huh?” She flashed him a teasing smile... “Are artsy types compatible with computer geeks?” If their kiss was anything to go by, the answer was a no-brainer.

Instead of smiling back, he set his knife and fork down on the plate. “Don’t know. Sometimes I get so caught up tinkering with this and that, I lose track of the time. Forget where I’m supposed to be.”

Despite his seemingly casual tone of voice, Daisy sensed he was trying to tell her something important.

“I know what you mean,” she said, absently flaking the meat off her salmon fillet. “When I paint, I become absorbed in my canvas to the distraction of the rest of the world.” She glanced at him to make certain he understood they shared a common approach to their work. “And you made it to dinner on time, Brent.”

This time he did grin, rather sheepishly. “Yes, well, my mind was on other things today. Besides, I wanted to be sure.”

“About what?”


“I see,” she said, finally understanding what they were both still doing at the restaurant, despite the sizzling attraction between them, when neither of them seemed particularly interested in eating dinner. Like her, he didn’t want to burn out the flames that flared between them in a one-night stand. When he’d told her he wanted to see where their relationship could lead, he’d been talking long-term.

Across from her, Brent shoved his plate aside. With a nod in her direction, he said, “I take it you’re finished with your food too and aren’t interested in dessert.”

There was no point in denying the first part of his statement since all she’d been doing for the past few minutes was creating an artistic design of green leaves and pink slivers of salmon on her plate. However, before they left the restaurant, she decided it was past time to teach him a lesson about issuing commands and making decisions on her behalf. Artsy types were sensitive about such things. He looked hopeful when she pushed her plate out of the way and lifted her linen napkin off her lap.

“Oh, I don’t know,” she said. “I rather fancy a dessert.”

Brent frowned, his eyes tracking her movements as she lifted the napkin higher and swung it out over the edge of the table.

“The only thing you have to remember to do is to keep your hands on the table.”

Without offering any further explanation, she let the napkin drop onto the floor. Then, before she lost her nerve, she slid off her chair and under the table.

Wednesday, October 8, 2008

After the Fire by Diana DeRicci

New Release October 6th
Buy Link http://tinyurl.com/3veogy

ISBN 978-1-59578-486-5


Crystal blue eyes fringed in dark golden lashes lifted to his. Something surged between them, a spark, a lightning bolt. It didn't matter but he felt it. Blood rushed against his ears at the intensity, and he felt his cock pressing against his jeans, demanding. Her hair sparkled as the energy gathered around her. Both of them staring at the other in her small kitchen. Desire. It was in her eyes, in the tentative parting of her lips. Lips he suddenly had to taste.

His hands grasped her hips, his thumb knowingly fitting right over that damn tattoo. Just the thought of it being there made his heart race. He wanted to taste it so badly, craved to drag his tongue over the indent of her hip until she was mindless for him. She squeaked when he lifted her easily and sat her on the counter.

"Damn it Shar," he growled just before he claimed her lips. He pushed her knees apart and sank between them, holding her prisoner beneath his hands, his fingers anchoring her solidly before him. She gasped in shock, stiff and unyielding beneath him, those crystalline eyes wide with surprise staring at him. "Kiss me, Shar. Just this once." Her breath panted against his mouth, turning his lust on its ear.

He had to have one before he realized his mistake and let her go. Forever.

She whispered a moan and he shuddered. Between one breath and the next she went pliant, leaning into him and he plunged between her succulent lips. The kiss was an assault, an all or nothing claiming. He couldn't do this again. He knew that, but he had this moment and he wanted all of it. All of her.

She heated beneath him like gasoline thrown on a bonfire, the blaze of her own desire sinking into his flesh. It was seconds away from causing him a complete malfunction. Instead of pulling back, he wrapped his tongue around hers and caressed her until she made a hungry whimper deep down in her body. The pressure beneath his zipper became immediately painful at the low sound. Liquid desire licked at his nerves and he pressed harder, yanking her closer until her pelvis fit right against his cock, her legs wrapping around his body, mindlessly desperate for some kind of relief. His eyes crossed behind closed lids at the feeling of her.

Her ankles hooked behind his thighs, tugging him even tighter, pressing him urgently into the heat between her legs. The searing touch of her fingers surprised him with their heat as they traveled upward, framing his chest then his shoulders. He pushed into her palms when she dug her fingertips into his hair, grasping him as tightly as he held her.

He sucked on her lower lip, delving between the lush pair with a relentless rhythm wanting to recreate the same tempo over and over, in many more ways, in more delicious places. She was sweet and seductive to his senses, her tongue dancing against his. She pulled him into her own mouth and suckled on him like a lollipop, her tongue dancing over his with wicked intent. He felt reasoning explode at the exquisite torture, imagining her mouth wrapped around his throbbing flesh and repeating until he couldn't think of anything but the heaven she was giving him.

He leaned back with a harsh groan, gulping air, barely achieving a scant inch between their bodies where she held him anchored to her. Pebbled nipples strained against the stretch cotton of her halter, pushing toward him, begging for attention. He felt compelled to comply. He dipped down and swept his tongue over one. She cried out at the contact and he acted on instinct. He wanted to hear her cry out again. For him.

Thursday, October 2, 2008

The Rea Cheveyo Chronicles: Kiana by Rayne Forrest

Captain Ian Logan of Terra commands the most powerful starship ever built, the Rea Cheveyo. Adjutant Kiana ni Jamallan of Adonica is trying to escape the notice of her corrupt superiors. What she can’t escape is Ian’s notice. When an Adonican freighter goes missing and Kiana uses a mental ‘push’ to maneuver her way onto his ship, Ian seizes the opportunity to get closer to the lovely adjutant.

Unable to resist the advances of attractive, tempting - but human - Ian, Kiana risks the censure of her government. Enlisting Ian’s help to save a missing crew, she treads a dangerous path with the destiny she was born to fulfill on one side and Ian on the other. One misstep and she’ll lose both.

As their worlds collide, Kiana is forced to choose between fulfilling her destiny—or following her heart.


Kiana dozed off, slowly, as her imagination let her sleep in Ian’s arms. A gentle touch on her hip woke her. She scrambled to sit up and blinked Ian into focus.
Ian touched her face. “You looked so peaceful. Perhaps I should not have disturbed you.”
“I’m glad thee did.”
“Don’t thee know, Ian Logan?”
His jaw worked. He looked away. When he spoke, his voice was low, and rough.
“What should I know, Kiana? That I’ve put you in an awkward position? That anything you do is used against your family? That us being alone together is reported back to your superiors?”
“Thee are a good man, that thee care about these things.” She laid her hand over his. “Do thee know more?” Kiana beat back the temptation to open herself up to her gifts and feel his emotions.
He looked at her, his gaze naked with desire. Her heart skipped a few beats, and then started to pound. Her stomach did a strange little flip, and the ache deep inside her flared back to life.
“I know I want you. And I know, for your sake, I can’t act on it.”
This man’s honor would keep him from her unless she said just the right words. A single tear slid down her cheek.
“I want thee, Ian Logan. I do not care the right or wrong of it. This one time, I want something for myself. Can thee understand?”
He swallowed hard. “I don’t want to hurt you, Kiana.”
“I know. It is my choice. I choose thee.” She slipped her arms around his neck and raised her lips to his.
Ian’s arms came around her and tightened. He pushed her down beneath him and claimed her mouth. She felt the breathy rumble in his chest as his lips moved on hers. His hand quickly found its way under the softness of the robe and cupped the roundness of her bare bottom. She gasped in surprise, arching to him. His strong fingers caressed lightly down the back of her thigh and brushed across moist, tingling flesh. She tried to open herself more to him, but his body and her gown pinned her. She made a frustrated noise, and he pulled away.
Very slowly, almost reverently, he pulled the trapped fabric from beneath him and slid it up her legs as she watched. It pooled in small ripples, covering her pelvis. The cool air brushed her limbs. Ian bent and kissed the inside of one quivering thigh. The breath clogged in her throat.
He inhaled sharply. She knew he’d caught the scent of her arousal. He slipped his hand under the fabric, resting it in the soft valley where her leg joined her body. Kiana’s hips jerked up to him.
The robe freed, he slowly stretched out beside her, settling them into a tangle of arms and legs.
Kiana tugged on his shirt, freeing it from his trousers. She slipped her hand beneath it and caressed Ian’s warm skin. Small ridges of muscle covered his ribs, and she lightly traced them with one finger. Gooseflesh rose in her wake.He took her hand and guided it to the bulge of his erection. He opened the snap of his pants with quick fingers, an unspoken request, and permission, for her to touch him as she wished.
Her inner flesh clenched. The tingling gave way to an insistent throbbing, a drumbeat pulse at her core that filled her with a desperate need. She moved her hand across the bulge, learning his shape. Would he hear her if she sent the thought to him?
Teach me.

ISBN (E) 978-1-60313-202-2

Rayne Forrest

Wednesday, September 24, 2008

Celtic Love Knots, Volume 10, by Kiki Howell

Purchase at Whiskey Creek Press Torrid
ISBN : 978-1-60313-311-1

Celtic Love Knots, Volume 10 includes the following two stories:
“Sexual Magic”

“The nostalgic smell of old magic reached her as her hand gently passed over the bindings of the Books of Shadows. Each journal held within it a part of her heritage. Each was written by one of her ancestors of their lives, their spells, their beliefs and more.”
A cast circle of sexual magic, an ancestral Book of Shadows, and a sexual magic spell cast in desperation hundreds of years ago leaves Caitlyn angry that her destiny may have been tampered with.
Now, she needs to know if she is meant to be with Brent, a man who often doesn’t understand her ways but to whom she is undeniably pulled.

“Tailltean Marriage”

“Are we still going through with it?” A deep voice blew warm breath into her hair, and a muscular chest sent a delicious warmth through her back.

“Having second thoughts as the time draws near are we?” She laid her head back against him to comfort herself as she had so many times before.

“No way. As of tonight, Allena Collins, you will be my wife for one year and a day.”

Ten years ago at their first Lughnasadh, Allena and Devyn made a pact to go through a Tailltean Marriage, a trial marriage, if they were both still unattached on Lughnasadh the year they turned twenty-eight.

Even though Allena and Devyn have been best friends sharing everything for years, once their hand fasting ceremony is over they fear that sex will change their friendship.

Melisa at Simply Romance Reviews said of Celtic Love Knots, Volume 10: “the plot was great…it definitely had the spice…”

Visit Me At:
http://kikihowell.author.googlepages.com/ to enter my Reader Contest to win a Celtic Love Knots Slave Bracelet. Hurry Contest Ends Sept. 30! http://kikihowell.blogspot.com/ to read excerpts
www.myspace.com/kikihowell to add me as a friend

Coming Soon From Whiskey Creek Press Torrid:
Mystic Stones, An Anthology January 2009The Witch’s Beast, A Torrid Twisted Tale April 2009

The Centurion and the Queen by Minnette Meador

a historical romance by Minnette Meador
(eBooks) – Resplendence eBooks - http://www.resplendencepublishing.com/m8_view_item.html?m8:item=30-200-105-422-1

Amazon - http://www.amazon.com/Centurion-Queen-Minnette-Meador/dp/1934992054/ref=pd_bbs_sr_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1208623883&sr=1-1

Blurb: Centurion Marius is a tough leader to his men, despite the shame that drove him from Rome. Delia is sister to an uncaring Corieltauvi tribal king, warrior queen to her people. The last thing she expects is to find herself craving the touch of an enemy. Thrown into the clash between 80,000 angry Britons and 10,000 Roman soldiers, they find themselves on opposing sides, in love, and unable to stop the future. The revolution that sparked their desire...could now destroy them.

“Ms. Meador weaves a beautiful story that I could not get enough of. Her characters are so full of life and were enjoyable to read. The setting was great too…This is one author that I would love to read more. The Centurion and the Queen is a book that will please those that love steamy romance to historical nuts. I was impressed with the balance between the two and recommend this book.” – Coffeetime Romance – 4 Cups

“This book was my first one by Minnette and I'm looking forward to reading more of her works. She brings you into a new time and very quickly has you integrated into the lives and settings of her characters. You feel for them like they are your friends and easily develop emotional bonds with them and their community. I encourage you to try out Minnette's work and see how enmeshed you will become in her wonderful settings. This book pulled me in and I read it in two sittings, just before bed and right when I awoke.” 4.5 - Nightowl Romance
Excerpts: http://www.minnettemeador.com/minnette_home_new_003.htm

a historical romance by Minnette Meador
Sequel to The Centurion & The Queen
(eBooks) – Resplendence eBooks - http://www.resplendencepublishing.com/m8_view_item.html?m8:item=58-200-105-422-2

Blurb: The Boudicca revolt has been squelched, the tribes of the Iceni and the Trinovantes have been exterminated by the Roman Governor of Britannia, Suetonius. He has sworn his revenge on the remaining tribes for the Celtic insolence.

Marius and Delia are now King and Queen of a broken Celtic tribe, and Marius has to use all his skill and cunning to help his hunted people as they flee before General Suetonius' sword. Reluctantly donning the mask of the liberatio mysticus, the “phantom” that hides the scattered tribes, the couple recruits Marius' ex-Roman century and what few Celtic warriors that remain to face the deadly Roman machine. They struggle to keep their people together and prevent the rest of a nation from fading into history.

But they are threatened by secret plots, jealousy, and a new enemy that hammers a wedge between them, a wedge that even an unborn child may not be able to dislodge when Marius falls under the charms of Delia's sworn enemy. Sacrifices will have to be made to save their people, to keep the nation together, to survive the Roman rage. In the end, it may be more than their love or their lives they lose.

Excerpts: http://www.minnettemeador.com/minnette_home_new_005.htm

Monday, September 22, 2008

A Hard Day's Night by Shara Bloodstone

A Hard Day's Night by Shara Bloodstone
ISBN-13: 978-1-60272-314-6 (Electronic)

Just back from school abroad and on the dean's list for her prudent behavior, Zoe Weiner moves in with her dad for the summer. With the super energy of an over-achiever, she's ready to run his mega-successful restaurant before completing her last year of college. But when exotic out-of-towner Jonte Barbera tempts her with erotic pleasures hitherto unknown, Zoe is seduced by his good looks and charm, and her suppressed wild streak emerges. She soon finds herself accepting Jonte's hedonistic offerings, burning the candle at both ends between exhaustive late-night work and extreme play. When Zoe's high school sweetheart Dane Clark returns to town, however, deeper emotions seize her, and the balance between excessive carnal pleasures and artful living becomes a true contest of character. Will Zoe learn the difference between lust and
love, and choose the man who is right for her, before she loses everything, including herself?......

Contemporary / The Arts / Chick Lit / BDSM (Light) / Interracial / Multicultural / Ménage / Group / Contains Some Lesbian Content Heat Level: 3 Extended Novella (31k words)


Jonte pushed his lips to one side and tried to figure out the best way to get Zoe up into the Jacuzzi. Kayla called over to ask what was up.

"Your friend Zoe, here," Jonte called back, "is wasted and won't get up."

Between giggles, Zoe whined, "I can't--I'm too high!"

Jonte bent down beside her. "Here, let's start by getting you into a robe, anyway."

He grasped her little dress by the hemline and yanked it over her head. It got caught around her breasts because, instead of leaning forward to help, she started wiggling around. The truth was, she felt weird about stripping naked in front of a guy she barely knew, even though she was high--and in spite of Kayla's lack of inhibition.

"Zoe! Help me out here," Jonte said, frustrated.

He finally succeeded in removing the layer of cotton that separated Zoe's skin from the external world.

She laid back against the lounge chair, undressed down to her mango-colored thong.
Jonte breathed a sigh of relief. "Look at that pretty body," he said. "Come on, let's get in the hot tub."

When he tried to yank her up, she still remained dead weight.

"I want my robe," she insisted.

An exasperated sigh escaped Jonte, but he set about helping her into the robe. He managed to get an arm into a sleeve and drew the bulk of it behind her back. After he stuffed her other arm into the other sleeve, Jonte pulled the terrycloth lapels around her. She squirmed, finagling it into place before plopping right back down against the lounge.

She grinned and spoke with a silly accent. "I no can get up right now, Jonte. You go in the Jacuzzi. I be in as soon as I can."

Jonte shook his head in disappointment. "Shit, girl. You got to get it together." Zoe merely shrugged, too wasted to care.

A moment later, Jonte headed for the hot tub.

Zoe turned her head enough to see him slip off his robe. The sight of his magnificent, naked physique made her jellied muscles seek to melt into utter compliance underneath him. He placed his robe neatly over the one he’d brought for Kayla and turned toward the Jacuzzi.

Outside lights hadn’t been turned on in the Weiner’s backyard. Illumination emanated from a light somewhere inside the house, the dim light beneath the Jacuzzi waters, and the moon rising in the blue-black sky. Roy had seen to it that tall fences kept neighbors with a proclivity for spying from leering over at their backyard activities. Zoe figured this had lent a feeling of security to Jonte and Kayla, prompting their immediate disrobing. As for her, well, a sense of modesty tended to keep her from jumping as readily into nudism as her friends.
Seeing Jonte naked in the moonlight, however, his cocoa-colored skin glistening enough to outline his well-developed muscles, she thought she might be able to overcome any predisposition toward shyness.

From where she lay, Zoe had to tilt her head back to keep watching Jonte walk toward the Jacuzzi steps. Between the sinewy thighs that carried him to the edge of the lively waters jutted his smooth, dark cock at half-mast. Even semi-erect, Zoe was impressed by its size.

He stepped onto the first step, into the churning waters. “Mmm,” he said, “nice ’n’ hot.”

She watched him descend another and splash water over his chiseled abdominals until the water reached his waist. Steam rose from the surface as he scooped up handfuls of heated liquid and rubbed it over his substantial biceps, neck, and head.

Zoe lost sight of him when he immersed himself fully. She turned back around and relaxed, wondering when the effects of the recreational drugs she’d ingested would wear off enough to give her back her energy. Lying there, she could hear Kayla and Jonte enjoying the delicious sensation of immersion in the hot water.
Available at www.amberheat.com

Sunday, September 21, 2008

The Hanged Man by Diana Castilleja

Titania gripped the knob of her closed dressing room door and took one more cursory look around before meeting her band onstage. Without warning, an undulating wave of anger and hatred slammed into her, and she staggered backward with a cried squeal of alarm.

Her first terrified thought was that someone had discovered her, and she yanked in her mental barriers to block the waves of emotion. She forced air in and out of her lungs. Bowing her head, she let her eyes drift closed as the onslaught continued without mercy. Sparks scattered in front of her vision as she stilled, completely frozen, and fought for control. She concentrated, forming a solid wall between herself and whoever was out there. She knew without a doubt it was a man, close, at the bar by the stage. It took work to be able to breathe normally, keeping the pressure of his emotions at bay.

He had come to kill; she knew that with a certainty that chilled her to the quick. His hatred pulsed, feeling thick around her. There was a tang of insolence in his hatred, a sense of omnipotence. She studied the waves, unraveling them, and found…emptiness. A dark chasm where his soul had once been.

She shuddered with a convulsive shake, ripping her thoughts back to her own mind. Her eyes snapped open, her entire being feeling colder than she'd ever felt in her life. Her arms wrapped around her body, and she rubbed herself in reaction. She took a deep breath, feeling relief blossom inside her when she focused and found herself still ensconced in her dressing room.
She had touched death and was still living.

She jumped a foot seconds later when a knock echoed through her door. "Tani! Hey, come on. The natives are getting restless."

"Coming," she shouted through the door. She swallowed down the quake that dared to grip her. She pictured the strongest walls, the thickest barriers she could imagine, adding a prayer for strength before she reached for the door again. It was going to be hard to do her show with him in the audience.

Laney, her backup singer, stood right outside when she found the strength to come out of her sanctuary.

"You feel him too, don't you?" Laney asked, taking one look at Titania's taut features, and then casting a furtive glance to the darkened stage.

"How could I miss him?" Titania shuddered again. "Cold, so cold." She stood staring at nothing, but feeling everything. Like a cold hand had found her, gripped her and wouldn't release her.

"Hey, if you can't get on the stage, don't make yourself sick over this." Laney looked backward over her shoulder and called out to her husband.

Houston put an arm around Laney immediately, taking in their drawn faces in a glance. "You two going to be all right?"

"I have to do something about this," Titania told them, feeling the man's intent and knowing she had no other choice.

"You're kidding, right?" Laney's green eyes grew. "You'll pass out trying to fix this. I don't think you can reach this one. Even I can feel him, Titania," she breathed. "Easily."

"I have to try. Someone is going to die tonight. I know it. That's why he's here. I have to try," she repeated, imploring her friends for their support.

Houston passed a hand over his hair, watching Titania. His shoulders tightened in indecision. Both she and Laney were pale and wide-eyed, feeling the absolute desolation of the man in the crowd. Titania could tell even Houston sensed a touch of overflow from the guy lying in wait, and he had nothing but his natural instincts to go on. Houston's watchful gaze kept moving out to the darkened stage then flickering back over the girls with decided concern. That was all the sign she needed to know Houston knew he was out there too.

"All right," he murmured with hesitant approval. "Do your thing. I know you would without our blessing simply because he needs it."

Titania's eyes unfocused as a shiver tore over her frame with little warning. "He's not the only one. Someone else… He just got here. So much hate," she whispered, her voice sounding far away, even to her own ears. Her vision shot up to them, a new chill sliding up her spine.
"Whatever happens tonight, you two stay safe."

Laney gripped Titania's arm. "What are you talking about? You've never given us a warning."

"I've never felt this before." Titania's head swiveled in slow motion to the darkened stage. "It's only between them," she said with a small touch of relief. She swung back around, her gaze unrelenting. No matter what her night brought, she'd make sure her friends weren't caught in the middle between the two men whom she could feel so easily. "I mean it. When this is over, get everyone out of here. We'll meet at the hotel tomorrow afternoon."

"Is the party here, or onstage?" David, their drummer, joked as he sauntered up to the trio. He caught Titania's expression and stuttered to a stop next to them. "Oh, Lord. How bad is it?"
"It's bad," Houston said. "Two sets, no encores."

"Gotcha." He made a pistol out of his fingers, clicking his tongue at Houston. "Don't worry, Tani. We got your back. We also know you can't help yourself either," he told her in an understanding, brotherly voice.

"Thanks, guys." She took a steadying breath. Her arms fell to her sides, having forgotten they were wrapped around her body. "I'll be fine. There's always someone out there. He's just very angry tonight."

Houston leaned over and kissed her forehead. "And you're an angel in disguise. Just be careful," he warned her, his brown gaze assessing with his warning. She nodded, knowing how far she could push after years of being in the public's eye.

Her smile was weak but heartfelt as the men flanked the women to take their places on the pitch black stage. Justin was already onstage, swinging his guitar onto his shoulder. He nodded once as David spoke to him, climbing onto the dais where his drums were.

Titania took a long, deep breath. She heard Houston start the count and felt herself relax, felt the first chords reach her as his music always could. The welcoming cheer made her smile. Houston was incredible on the guitar, a born talent.

Before she could have second thoughts, she began to sing and did what came naturally, her gift flowing from her in waves, and prayed she could save the one who had been targeted.
* *
Please visit my website for monthly updates and information on the coming release for '09!


HeartFast by Linda Mooney

They were the Guardians, sixteen special men and women with incredible powers. They lived on a world that, eons ago, had suffered a devastating plague that had rendered more than half its population unable to reproduce. In order to assure the survival of their species, the HandFast law was enacted. Every month, twenty couples, complete strangers, were drawn by lottery—couples whose sole purpose would be to procreate.

It was a cold and impersonal law, but it worked.

When StarLight and Master Hunter heard their names called out to be HandFasted, their neat, orderly lives were turned upside-down. Gone was the comfortable companionship and brother-sister working relationship.

Now they were forced into an intimacy neither had wanted, nor expected.Neither were they prepared for the overwhelming passion they would find in each other's bodies, as well as in their hearts. But things would only get more complicated and dangerous, because someone had deliberately placed their names in the lottery as the first step in destroying their world and every Guardian living.

An OUTSTANDING READ from Simply Romance Reviews

HeartFast was not just a satisfying romance, it was also a mind-teasing mystery and science fiction read as well. Visual imagery was well written, and the mystery surrounding the unsanctioned handfast skillfully told. While I can usually figure out what's coming, this story kept me guessing to the end.

Emotionally conveyed, StarLight and Master Hunter's story was equally touching, painful and poignant to read. I look forward to further stories in this new series.
-- Christine, Simply Romance Reviews

HeartFastAn erotic sci-fi romance by

Linda MooneyAuthor’s website: http://www.lindamooney.com/

Publisher: Whiskey Creek Press Torrid(ebook) ISBN# 978-1-60313-293-0(print)
ISBN# 978-1-60313-292-3

Buy Link:

Size: 102.5K (super novel)Heat rating: sensuous/explicitTrailer: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NkVf9dYYgkk

Sexual Deceptions 1 by Rayne Forrest & Brenda Williamson

Sexual Deceptions 1 - Brenda Williamson & Rayne Forrest

Mischief at Midnight by Rayne Forrest
Madelyn Murphy isn’t your typical spoiled rich girl. She only has one household drone, after all. Why? Because she’s so liberal, she does her own cooking.

Triple D Drones’ owner, Dallas Dyson, has made a fortune in the service drone industry. He’ll even lend a helping hand himself if someone’s in a pinch.

When Madelyn’s service drone breaks just before a dinner party, she calls Triple D Drones for help. When the new “Dallas” prototype shows up to lend a hand, Madelyn finds she needs help with more than serving dinner. Isn’t service what a Triple D drone does best?

Slave of Saharic by Brenda Williamson

Renn Saharic needs a new Interactive Partner. At an auction selling replicas of women, he picks out the one he wants, but is outbid. However, luck is on his side when the new owner thinks the replica is broken, and sells Renn the love doll. Taking her home, Renn grows attached to his new possession and plays with her as if he were a boy in a toyshop, wishing she were real. Cadie is a slave from the planet Ceres. She pretends to be a replica to escape and ends up on Earth and in the hands of a new master that has no idea she’s real. While devising a plan for her freedom, she discovers Renn isn’t as bad as other men she’s known. His gentle passion makes it hard to leave. But love can’t be real if she stays to be the Slave of Saharic.

ISBN:ebook: 978-1-60313-377-7print: 978-1-60313-376-0

Surrendered Victory - KC Kendricks

Now available at Amber Allure
#2 Bestseller June 2008
#4 Best Seller, second quarter

Dalton makes Reed tingle in all the right places. Now Reed’s ready to answer the question that’s haunted his every failed relationship. Is he really gay?

Reed walked into Dalton’s life and everything changed. This time, Dalton won’t hide the fact he’s gay from anyone, even his son.

Together they surrender all to each other and claim the ultimate victory - love.


…Dalton's hand rested on the table, palm down, relaxed. The pale band around his wrist where he normally wore a watch showed off his suntan. Slowly, he rolled his hand over. Anyone watching wouldn’t think a thing about the small gesture, so easy and natural as he did it. But I knew it for what it really was.

Invitation. Promise. Please.

My own personal Rubicon lay before me. The line that once crossed changed worlds. What was would cease and what was to be would come to life with the touch of that hand, and I trembled in the face of it.

Always before I’d shied away from this moment, running from the commitment the acceptance of truth would bring to my door. There would be no more denials, no more flight. If I crossed my Rubicon, I would be forever changed.

The freedom that beckoned took my breath away in much the same orgasmic way Dalton did…
For the complete adult excerpt, please visit :

ISBN 978-1-60272-283-5

Also available - Passion's Victory

ISBN-13: 978-1-60272-330-6

KC Kendricks