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."


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:

Wednesday, October 15, 2008

Courting Trouble by Renee Knowles

Renee Knowles

Length: 30,000 words

Rating: SpicyGenre: Historical Romance—Regency Period

Buy Link:


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:
[please note that there will be no buy option until the 24th]

my website:

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

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