Sunday, October 16, 2011

Double Deuce by KC Kendricks

Contemporary gay romance mystery
available now at Amber Allure

Free spirited Ian Coulter works hard and plays harder. An ex-cop turned private investigator, Ian enjoys meeting new men and making new friends. A night out ends up with one man on the floor at his feet, and another asking for his help. Big trouble’s brewing in little Amethyst Cove, and Ian’s a step behind. He’s quick to see Rick Mohr is the man holding the flare at the end a long, dark tunnel.

Undercover agent Rick Mohr walks a fine line, serving two masters. Insider trading, counterfeit printing plates, and a blown-up yacht have Rick stuck between two Federal agencies, one of which has been compromised. Rick has to discover the mole before it’s too late. When Ian Coulter walks into his life, Rick grabs the chance to salvage his assignment with both hands.

It doesn’t take Ian and Rick long to discover joining forces, and sharing resources, has definite perks - ones not found in any departmental manual.


“And yet, here you sit across from me.”

“For one thing, this is the first time I’ve actually gotten a look at you. No one ever said you were so…” He paused and blinked at me.

I helped him out. “Hot?”

Rick grinned. “The very word I was searching for.”

“You’re full of shit, Rick Mohr. What do you really want?”

“I’ve heard you like to have fun—safe fun. Was I misinformed?”

And they called me a slut. Rick had me beat for moving in on a guy fast. “I love to have ‘fun—safe fun,’ but I don’t know you. I haven’t seen you around at any of the local haunts.”

“Well, you know how it is. Boy meets boy. Boy falls in love. Boy gets dumped after eleven years and has to work hard to get back into the swing of things.”

I tapped the wide silver band he wore on his left ring finger. “Hmm. I’ve heard of that. Some weird word that starts with an ‘R.’”


I snapped my fingers. “That’s the one! Can’t say as I have any first-hand experience with it.”

Rick sighed. “I actually liked it, although I thought it would have a longer shelf-life.”

I sipped the lemony drink I’d had such a craving for. That craving, and another stronger one, was about to land me in trouble, I just knew it.

“I’ll tell you something, Rick. I don’t like men who cheat on their partners.”

His level gaze met mine. “I don’t have a partner. I have an ex-partner.”

“Why not take off the ring?”

“Truth? I’m not quite ready to have guys hitting on me. Maybe you can help me get over the hump.”

Years of cruising men, of reading their body language and looking into lots of pretty eyes gave me a good read on him. He wasn’t being honest with me about something, but it had nothing to do with the ring, the ex-partner, or the fact he liked to have control of the situation. The little voice inside, the one that never steered me wrong when it was time to cut and run, was silent, and I wanted to learn more about him.

The bottom line was we both wanted to get laid, no strings attached. I could do that for him. Call me Dr. Love or whatever. He wanted over the hump, and I was more than happy to help him out with that.

“So, Rick, why don’t we finish our drinks, then blow this joint and go find a more private place?”


The intensity of Rick’s gaze slammed into me.

“What if I told you I could give you something concrete?”

Cold sweat broke out under my arms and across my back. I shivered and sucked in a deep breath. “This isn’t the place to discuss business, Mr. Mohr.”

Comprehension flickered in his pretty eyes. He reached across the table and covered my hands with his. My skin prickled with a new awareness of him. I had the sudden urge to give him about eight inches of concrete, regardless of how bad an idea it had become.

“You’re right, of course.” I got another shock as he raised my knuckles to his lips. “How about a little stroll on the beach? We can kick off our shoes and roll up our pant legs and get our feet wet. Get comfortable with each other. Whataya say?”
A walk outside was better than a hook-up inside. For all I knew, he worked for Earl Fox and had on a wire. This could be a set-up. That’s how paranoid I was about Foxy. I pulled away from the warmth of his touch and kept my voice pitched to where only Rick could hear me.

“We’ll take my car. I’ll bring you back later. And I want you to put your cell phone in your car and leave it.”
“I understand your caution, but it’s unnecessary.”

“I’ll be the judge of that, thank you.” I set my hat back on my head, slid off the bench seat, and held my hand out to him. He took it and uncurled his long, lean body out of the booth. I had to look up at him, and I’m no little fellow at five-eleven and one hundred seventy-nine pounds of carefully crafted muscle.

His arms came around me and I realized just how big a man he really was. His lips brushed my ear as he whispered to me, “I’m going to enjoy this.”

Before I could think, much less ask him what the fuck he was talking about, his mouth covered mine. I opened my lips to protest, and his tongue slipped past my poor defenses. Little stars danced behind my closed eyes. My arms slid around his neck.

Familiar heat coiled low in my belly when his tongue danced over mine. My balls tingled as my over-eager cock hardened, swelling relentlessly to an aching fullness. I inhaled, and, under the warm, spicy scent of his cologne, breathed in the rich, earthy tang of an aroused male.

Rick’s big hand cupped my left ass cheek and pressed me tightly to his pelvis. The hard ridge of his dick met mine and I hazed on the rush of testosterone flooding into my blood. I needed to sink my root deep in this man and hear him beg for more.

What was left of my sanity shouted I was in big trouble when his lips trailed fire along my jaw line and down my neck. I ignored it and cupped his balls in front of all witnesses, covering his bulging zipper with my palm. At least eight inches.

His big hands stroked up my back, then down my sides. I leaned over into the booth and grabbed my drink with shaking hands.

What the fuck had I just allowed to happen?

ISBN-13: 978-1-61124-185-3
Contemporary gay romance mystery
available now at Amber Allure

KC Kendricks
website at:
mailing list at:

AVALANCHE! - Excerpt - Erotic M/F Contemporary by Carolina Valdez

With the cold weather settling in, it seems appropriate to take a look again at this Amber Heat story from my backlist. My interest in the Winter Olympics sports crops up here. Seri's professional drama is roughly modeled after the experience of Peekaboo Street, an athlete I admired. I was crushed when injury shattered her career, and the thing about fiction is you can write the ending any way you wish.

In a world where we sometimes have no control over fate, that's a great deal.


Copyright 2007 Carolina Valdez
Cover Art Copyright 2007 Trace Edward Zaber

Buy Online

After a serious crash in competition, ski patrol leader Seri Lohan, a Super G gold medalist, will never compete again. Chad Jenkins, next year’s hope for another downhill gold for the U.S., is seriously injured on Seri’s patrol watch, and she volunteers to take care of him.

Years ago, Chad broke her heart. She’s determined not to let him do so again, but, trapped with him in a chalet by a blizzard, all the old sensual tensions and longings emerge. He desperately needs her help and isn’t above using seduction as a means to keep her with him. If she succumbs, what will it do to her relationship with the man who’s asked her to marry him? What will it do to her heart?


“So cold,” he murmured.

“Keep him warm. He mustn’t get cold again,” the ER doctor had said.

She’d covered him with all the blankets in the chalet, brought the heater up to full strength, and stoked the fire, but she had to admit she was cold too. Cold and tired. The storm still raged outside. With this awakening, she’d brought him through the hours they’d said she’d have to wake him to be sure his brain wasn’t bleeding, and now her body hurt all over from mental and physical exhaustion.

He’s cold. I’m cold. Oh, what the hell, she thought, he sees me just as an old friend. I refuse to sleep in a chair.

In the bathroom she removed her after-ski boots and outerwear, rid herself of the discomfort of a bra over her full breasts all day and shed her black panties. She slipped under the covers beside him wearing only her long, black silk thermals. He stirred and quieted. She curled near him, just close enough to share her body warmth.

Falling instantly asleep as if drugged, she stirred briefly when she felt someone brushing the tendrils of hairs that had escaped from her braid back from her face. Opening her eyes, she saw that she and Chad now faced each other.

“Hi,” he said, his voice soft. He smelled of antiseptic and soap. In the flickering light of the banked fire, his eyes had darkened to lapis lazuli.

That’s who he is in real life, she thought. Someone deep and mysterious who keeps his thoughts close to his chest. This was the Chad she knew.

“Hi,” she whispered back.

His lips, warm and soft, closed on hers.

Desire threaded through her body. Alarm bells rang distantly in her head. Thankfully, Chad went back to sleep, and she didn’t think he was aware she hadn’t returned his kiss. It had been shit hard, but she hadn’t done all the things she’d wanted to do with that mouth, that desire-igniting mouth with its warmth and all encompassing sweetness.

Nothing had changed since high school. And she was a fool...


Friday, October 14, 2011

New Release: Red Satin Chistmas, trans lesbian erotic romance

Who ever said you can't feel Christmassy in October? Sure you can! Just get yourself a candy cane and a copy of Red Satin Christmas, and you're all set.

For those who aren't yet familiar with my Red Satin trilogy, it's a love story between Regan, a butch Cree lesbian, and her long-time friend Maisie, a male-to-female transsexual. So... let's see... I guess that makes Red Satin Christmas an interracial trans lesbian erotic holiday romance.

Red Satin 3: Red Satin Christmas
Series: Red Satin , Book 3
By: Giselle Renarde | Other books by Giselle Renarde

Published By: loveyoudivine
Published: Oct 13, 2011
ISBN # 5075_1074
Word Count: 29,395
Heat Index

This is a Christmas of firsts for girlfriends Regan and Maisie. Maisie hasn’t returned to her hometown since beginning her transition from male to female. Her mother and sisters welcome her with open arms, but what about brother Jerry? Is he just going to ignore her forever? And who is this mystery woman he’s brought home for the holidays?

Regan figures she’s just along for the ride, lending her girlfriend support, until Maisie’s mother surprises her with a special dinner guest. Regan hasn’t spoken to her hard-drinking Cree father in years, and he’s the last person in the world she wants to sit across from at Christmas dinner. Can Regan finally trust the man who’s once again claimed to have changed for good?

Together, Regan and Maisie face drama beyond their wildest imaginings. Will their trials during this eventful family Christmas challenge their bond… or vanquish their limitations?


It was one of those wake-ups where you’re not quite sure where you are
at first, and for a couple seconds you don’t even care because it feels
so good to be alive. And then everything that happened the night before
comes flooding to mind, and the morning takes a sharp turn…

Regan had slept on her side, which put a crimp in her neck, but Maisie
was pressed right up against her back, enfolding her in the world’s
warmest arms. Even if she’d wanted to, she couldn’t have moved. Regan
was right at the edge of Maisie’s little twin mattress.

When the world came into focus, Regan stared straight ahead, at the
lower shelves of the bookshelf in her girlfriend’s childhood bedroom. It
was most definitely a space decorated for a boy—royal blue walls with a
Toronto Maple Leafs border, autographed souvenir baseballs from when
the Jays won the World Series in ’92 and again in ‘93—but Regan tried to
ignore that fact as much as she tried to ignore the erection lodged
firmly between her ass cheeks. Morningwood was something Maisie couldn’t
help, and Regan knew her girl would find it humiliating if called
attention to. Penises were not Maisie’s favourite thing in the world,
and she had especially harsh feelings toward her own. Regan thought
Maisie was the most beautiful woman in the world, penis or no penis, but
of course she’d respect her girl’s wish to downplay the existence of
that appendage.

Maisie shifted, making soft moaning noises in her sleep, her long silky
nightgown rippled against Regan’s naked back. God, it felt good to have a
woman’s soft fabrics against her skin. Regan never wore stuff like that

The winter sun hadn’t yet risen, and Regan couldn’t see a clock
anywhere, but she figured it must be pretty early because she couldn’t
hear anyone wandering around in this house full of people. She had a
faint need to pee, but just couldn’t bring herself to leave a warm bed
and a hot body.

As Maisie carved her own path from sleep to wakefulness, her curvaceous
body stretched and writhed. Regan felt the motion against her back like a
giant caterpillar. And then that wave halted, and she knew Maisie had
swum her way back to consciousness enough to realize her body was
betraying her. For a moment, she was stone, and then her soft arms
retracted from around Regan’s naked form. When Maisie rolled away after a
night in such close proximity, Regan felt it like a stab in the gut.

“Morning, Beautiful,” Regan whispered before she’d even turned to look
at Maisie. Self-fulfilling prophecy—even with a few stray specs of
stubble growing in, Maisie was the prettiest girl Regan had ever known.

Still, Maisie buried her head beneath a pillow and moaned, “Charmer.”

...You can read the ENTIRE first chapter at loveyoudivine or All Romance ebooks!...

Buy Now from:

Sunday, October 2, 2011


Missing, Presumed Dead
(An Amethyst Cove Mystery)
by Christiane France
ISBN-13: 978-1-61124-182-2 (Electronic)

Private investigator and ex-cop, Greg Stewartson, is on his way to bed when his Hollywood-producer brother, Vance, shows up on his doorstep. With him is the handsome, sexy, and blond Tim Fensham, the brother of Vance's latest girlfriend, movie star Petra Lianne. Vance says Petra went missing more than a month ago after last being seen in Amethyst Cove. He has new information, but the police refuse to follow it up. They’ve closed the case, declaring the actress "Missing, Presumed Dead."
But Vance and Tim don’t believe Petra is dead and ask Greg to take the case. After Greg agrees, Tim stays to help him find Petra, while Vance returns to L.A.
Greg doesn’t want or need help, and wishes Tim would leave, too. He’s attracted to the man and figures the feeling may be mutual, but he doesn’t mix business with pleasure and he doesn’t need the distraction of Tim staying in his house. He also doesn’t like the way Tim keeps trying to interfere in the investigation, or the unexpected moves Tim puts on him during a power failure.
Still, Greg can’t tell Tim to take his case elsewhere for fear of upsetting Vance, but he does tell Tim to back off. The trouble is, Tim is not a very good listener...

...While Tim went outside to fetch his overnight bag, I collected the used mugs and empty beer cans, put them on the tray and took the tray out to the kitchen.
When he returned, I locked the back door, but didn’t bother resetting the alarm. If he decided to go back outside for whatever reason, I didn’t want the damn thing going off and waking me up. “If you want to come with me, I’ll show you where you’ll be sleeping. There’s an extra blanket in the closet if you’re cold, and there are soap and towels in the ensuite. If you need anything else, I’m in the room across from you.”
We’d made it halfway down the hall leading to the bedrooms when the lights went off, yet again. Tim cannoned into my back, almost knocking me over.
“Sorry about that. I hate the dark.” He gave a shaky laugh. “Always have. Scares the living crap out of me. Makes me jumpy as hell. Clumsy, too.”
Oh, yeah? I’ve seen more than a few clever moves over the years, but when it came to making the best of an opportunity, this guy was beyond good. Believable, almost.
He cuddled closer, presumably to prove his point, then wrapped his arms around my body, and I felt his hot breath tickling my neck. “I hope you don’t mind me hanging onto you like this.”
Mind? Why should I mind? The power’s never off for more than a minute, two at the very most, so I had no reason to worry about things getting out of hand. “It’s okay. You’ll be fine.”
Whether I would be fine was a whole different story. His heat, his scent, the way his hard cock was pressing against my crack was such a turn-on, I figured I might as well enjoy the thrill while it lasted. All I had to do was relax…one, two, three, four. Any second now there would be light. Five, six, seven, eight, nine… By the time I got to ten, my imagination had taken off and I didn’t care if the damn lights never ever came on again.
He was nibbling my ears and stroking my dick, and it didn’t take genius mentality to know where things were headed. But what the hell? Maybe he really was afraid of the dark rather than an opportunist, and if something we both wanted kept his mind off his fears where was the harm?
Just when things started to get really hot, the lights flashed on and off a couple of times, then came back on to stay.
He relaxed his hold and gave another shaky laugh. “Sorry about that. I didn’t mean to get quite so carried away. I guess what they say about fear being a powerful aphrodisiac is true.”
Oh, sure! The guy is edging in on forty and this is the first time he’s discovered the connection? I don’t think so. I may live in a small town, but he has to know us small-towners are not that naive. “You think?”
“Not really, no.” He visibly relaxed and treated to me to a soft, sexy chuckle that raised everything on my body, including my hopes, as he reached out and stroked a finger down my cheek. “You could have pushed me away.”
“True. I could also have screamed rape. Problem is living out here with my nearest neighbor working nights, I doubt anyone would have heard.”
“Would you have wanted them to hear?”
“Not particularly.” I smiled. This was California, and tall, good-looking, blond-haired, surfer-dudes are a dime a dozen. But there was nothing stereotypical about Tim. For one thing, he was much older than your average surfer dude, and while most surfers are just good looks and muscles, this guy had all that plus charisma to spare. His blond, sun-streaked hair looked natural, and his deep blue eyes were a turn-on all by themselves.
“You sure about that?”
“About as sure as I can be.”
The wanting was there on both sides. It was so damn obvious what was about to happen, and I needed to put a stop to it, now. This was where I was supposed to force a laugh, shuffle my feet to cover any embarrassment, and get back to showing Tim to his room. Except I knew I couldn’t do any of that. My rule of not mixing business with pleasure was about to get broken, and there was nothing I could do about it. At least, nothing I wanted to do...