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Prize: A print copy of my novel Adored. http://www.jasminejade.com/ps-7772-138-adored.aspx
Winner will be announced: February 10th at this site and at my website: www.tinadonahue.com
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Why We Love to Tame Alpha Males. . .
You know the kind of guy I’m talking about - impossibly masculine and confident with a wolfish grin, that glint of unashamed hunger in his eyes. As readers, and as writers, our hearts beat a bit faster when that kind of hero comes alive on the page. We feel the heroine’s pulse leap. We understand her caution. This guy’s going to change her life – he’s her freaking destiny whether she realizes it or not, whether she wants it or not. . .at least at the moment.
Through the chapters, we watch and live their carnal dance – eyes meeting, hands touching, mouths merging. Every time she resists, he seduces her back into his embrace while we read on and sigh.
And yet, we’re not satisfied until the heroine tames her sexy beast, bringing out the love beneath the lust, the commitment she demands and knows exists. There’s something so fundamentally primal and satisfying about watching a perceived imbalance of power between a male and a female with the woman turning the tables on the guy and bringing him to his knees to worship her, to want her for his own.
It’s the starting premise for many of my erotic romances, including my latest – Deep, Dark, Delicious. When Eden and Rafe first meet at Miami’s Master Chef Competition where he’s a judge and she’s a contestant, there’s an undeniable sexual intensity between them. Dominant and unashamed, Rafe knows what he wants – Eden in his bed. She, on the other hand, has been hurt emotionally in the past and is rightfully cautious. Their interplay is shown in this scene, which opens the book shortly after the contest has ended.
Rafe moved past the contestants, his dark eyes scanning the guests, searching.
Eden’s mouth went dry as he turned toward her.
One of the competition’s producers stopped him. With her arm slipped through his, the fortyish woman led him to the advertisers, among them Luis Famosa. Luis owned this penthouse and De Cocina Foods, which provided the competition’s hundred-thousand-dollar prize.
Rafe greeted the elderly man as one would in Europe or in this country’s immigrant enclaves, with a warm hug and a kiss on both of Luis’ age-furrowed cheeks. The two men were among the most successful Cubans in Miami. Luis’s food warehouses dominated the market. Rafe—a thirty-three-year-old celebrity chef, restaurateur and one of the competition’s judges—owned a number of award-winning restaurants, had a line of popular cookware and books and served as the TV spokesperson for numerous products.
The kind of man who could have anything or anyone he wanted.
A tormenting heaviness settled between Eden’s legs, the same now as when he’d judged her dishes in the contest, his rich mouth and beard-shadowed cheeks mesmerizing her. Why she wanted him wasn’t a mystery. Like all rational women, she found his raw sexuality irresistible, the stuff of indecent fantasies. Not that she would act on it. Her mother’s missteps taught her the danger of hungering for a man. Besides, she should hate him for eliminating her last entrée which cost her the prize.
The three other judges had raved about her island flatbread, cinnamon sweet potatoes and Chicharrones de Pollo—the Dominican version of fried chicken. And then Rafe spoke, his voice resonant and lyrical with a hint of his native Spanish. “You have greatness in you. This effort, though good, wasn’t worthy of your talent.”
Her stomach had sunk even as her nipples puckered so tight they hurt.
Damn him. She guzzled her cocktail. Rafe nodded to whatever the male producer said. The movement freed more of his hair, the chocolate strands skipping over his brow. He lifted his heavy crystal glass, tasting his drink. Bacardi Gold shone on his bottom lip.
Eden forced down a swallow. Despite how her mind cautioned, she longed to lick the rum away and stroke his satiny mouth with her tongue. To rest her face against his neck and feel his accelerating pulse as she pushed his shirt over his broad shoulders and down his sinewy arms. To kneel before him, her nose to the dark tangle of hair above his cock, fragrant with musk. To know the seductive promise of his belly and thighs pressed against hers.
He gave Luis a parting hug, much like a favorite son to a beloved father, then turned and met her eyes.
Blood drained from Eden’s face and returned so quickly her body didn’t know whether to be hot or cold. Lightheaded, she shivered a bit with each.
Eyes fixed on her, Rafe approached, his expression ordering her to stay put, daring her not to move.
Disobedient, she backed into one of the wide towering columns, a fruitless attempt to flee what her body coveted. Above, stars twinkled through the domed glass ceiling. Here, the pool glistened beneath the light of the torches, the flames’ reflection streaking gold over the blackened water.
Rafe reached her. She caught his scent, a sun-baked fragrance more caressing than the summer’s night air—warm, sultry, virile. Her legs went doughy. She locked her knees.
If he noticed, he didn’t let on, though his attention did sharpen, a handsome predator homing in on his prey. Lips turned up in a direct smile, he offered his hand. “Eden.”
His vibrant baritone embraced her name with stunning familiarity, disconcerting her further. She shook it off. After tonight, she’d see him on TV or in print advertisements, nowhere else. She’d make certain of it regardless of her lust. She cleared her throat and slipped her coolish, damp fingers over his. His palm was dry and rough, betraying his humble origins. “Chef.”
“Rafe.” His smile brightened with his gentle admonition, saying he enjoyed being in charge.
An image rose unbidden in her mind. She saw herself in Z, his flagship restaurant, bent at the waist over one of the linen-draped tables as startled patrons and wait staff looked on. Ass high, thighs spread, she posed as he’d commanded, awaiting his touch. He wouldn’t shove her dress up her thighs and over her cheeks to have her. He’d fold the gauzy cotton inch by inch, forcing her to anticipate what would come. Panting in expectation, with the chilled air-conditioning glancing off her naked buttocks, she’d remain still, her position imploring him to mount her, use her, punish her if she didn’t obey.
Moisture gushed from her sheath. Heat scalded her face and throat. “Rafe,” she amended. Her voice vibrated slightly.
He stroked her thumb. A glow slithered up her arms, settling in her chest and dipping to her legs. Her lids slipped down.
It took Eden a moment to open her eyes and focus. To the side, a young male server offered an hors d'oeuvre tray of firecracker shrimp and roasted Cuban bread. Disinterested, her attention swung back to Rafe.
His eyes remained on her. “Were those appetizers prepared using your recipes?”
“No.” She studied his mouth, breathless at its sculpted beauty. “Alexander’s.” The competition’s winner.
Rafe arched one dark brow. “Thank you, no,” he said to the server, his attention riveted to her. The boy turned away. Rafe added, “Wait.” His thumb resumed stroking her hand. “There’s no need for you or any of the other staff to return. The lady and I don’t want to be disturbed. Understood?”
Eden’s stomach made a funny lurch, a combination of excitement and fear at Rafe wanting them to be alone.
What follows is an Alpha male’s pursuit of a woman who won’t be caught so easily, much to his initial surprise. In her own way, Eden brings Rafe to his knees in a manner he never imagined. To have her, he must convince her of his unwavering love.
And that’s why we love to tame Alpha Males. :-)
Deep, Dark, Delicious is available from Ellora’s Cave: http://www.jasminejade.com/ps-8080-50-deep-dark-delicious.aspx
My website: www.tinadonahue.com
My blog: http://www.tinadonahue.com/blog/
Deep, Dark, Delicious YouTube video trailer: http://www.youtube.com/tinadonahue
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