Beginning January 1, 2013

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Monday, January 31, 2011

GUEST BLOG: NAIMA SIMONE

A History Lesson for the Ages

A friend of mine, and fellow author, is working on a book whose heroine is a real historical figure. I was blown away by the rich color of the story…not to mention how believable it read in spite of the book being a paranormal. The heroine had been so alive—perhaps because at one point in history she really had been.
Of course I realize my friend took creative license with the character but it started the ‘ol thought process flowing. What historical figure would I love to find myself changing the landscape of time and scandalizing academia with? What dashing man of mystery or royalty or infamy would I want to whisk me off my feet in a torrid tsunami of love? What dominant, confident man of strength and command would I love to get a little freaky-deaky with? Well, besides the obvious nominees like King Arthur, Merlin, Denzil Washington—he is an historical figure in some circles!—a few candidates came to mind… 

Sooo, I bet you thought this was going to be a blog about which historical men would make wonderful, sexy, brooding heroes…and in all honesty, it was meant to be. But then I text my twin sister—the  history teacher who had been downing Nyquil all day—about who she thought should top the list and…well…here’s the conversation…

Nina: What about Jaguar Paw?
 Me: I hate u.
 Nina: Emperor Chen?
Me: *fist bump ala Friends*
Nina: I didn’t watch Friends like that. What’s that mean?
Me: *$&#^@#$ !
Nina: That’s not nice. I’m trying to help u! Bruce Lee?
Me: Aha. You might actually have something there oh 8-eyed one.
Nina: What about the Dali Lama?
Me: Go take some more Nyquil. It’s safe, I promise…
Nina: Black Beard.
Me: Bad teeth.
Nina. Henry the VII?
Me: How did u know I found him sexy???
Nina: Something’s wrong with u…
Me: It’s the company I was born with.
Nina: Ivan the Terrible? I think he gotta bad rep because of that whole impalement thing…what about the Count of Monte Cristo?
Me: Yeah and the whole murder anyone who disagreed with him thing…and the Count of Monte Cristo wasn’t real!!
Nina: Yeah…and then there’s him killing his son…BUT all that didn’t start until his wife died. I mean ur a writer put a spin on it!
Me: I can’t put a spin on insanity.
Nina: John Lennon? Attila the Hun?
Me: John Lennon was a freak and Attila isn’t a sexy name.
Nina: He was not! How u gonna speak about the man like dat? And what about ‘ol Alex (Alexander the Great). He was a double dipper! And Solomon (King Solomon) ain’t no sexy name either! Reminds me of Geico!
Me: I think Solomon is very distinguished *sniff* Song of Solomon, yo? And John was freaky, admit it. Who knew what him and Yoko did while high and naked??
Nina: U hit a nerve, yo! You are a blasphemer! What about Mahatma Ghandi?
Me: I hate u. Now who’s the blasphemer! Besides he didn’t believe in personal wealth. Nora Roberts couldn’t sell him!
Nina: Why u trying to be like Nora Roberts?
Me: I’m just saying ain’t nobody going to believe in the romantic side of a man who don’t have two dinero to rub together. I mean where would we meet for dinner? His mat?
Nina: No dinner but “hubba hubba” *eyebrows going up and down*
Me: On a thin mat? I’d be too worried about my booty being bitten by something…
Nina: If he’s doing it rite u won’t even be worried about that. *eyebrows again*
Me: Good nite, Nina. More Nyquil and remember…a spoonful of sugar makes the medicine go down. Medicine go down…Medicine go down in the most delightful way…*hum*
Nina: Oh well…goodnite…

Never did determine who my heroes were…

Naima Simone, a new author with Ellora’s Cave Publishing and Breathless Press, is a member of RWA’s Southern Magic chapter, mother of Thing 1 and Thing 2, a lover of everything Vin Diesel and the husband who tolerates this affair. Come visit Naima at http://naimasimone.com and http://naughtyauthorchicks.blogspot.com !

Friday, January 28, 2011

GUEST BLOG: ASHLYN MONROE

Muses, Inspiration, Etcetera.

Whatever you call the place your ideas come from you know when you’ve been inspired.  I find that driving is my time to get inspired.  For me the voice note feature on my BlackBerry helps me remember those flashes of story.  Music is often the catalyst.  When I hear a sexy tune, or an emotionally charged lyric it congers my characters making daring escapes and having passionate love scenes in my warped imagination.  I love to hear what inspires other writers.  A common theme is music but I’ve heard some unique muses too. 

The best part about being creative, writing, painting, sculpting, singing, whatever floats your boat is sharing it with others.  I respect creative people because I know how much heart and soul goes into the work and how much personal pressure and fear you feel the first time you “unveil” it.  I can’t tell you how freaked out I get when someone who knows me, the mom/coworker/boring me, reads my work.  I always wonder if they’ll be weird with me.  My male supervisor read one of my shorts; he couldn’t look me in the eyes for a month.  This was both funny and awkward, but when you write erotica, it happens. 

I’ve never had a wild ménage, flown on a space ship, or kissed a werewolf.  However, when I’m imagining my characters doing those things I get the fun of going along for the ride.  Without imagination, I can’t imagine how bad my life of day job, laundry, helping the kiddos with homework-rinse and repeat-would be.  I never want to give up writing.  Even if nothing every contracted again, I’d still write.  My stories come from somewhere I need to be and writing is the only way to travel there.  The only way to describe it to someone who doesn’t write is to say it’s like finding the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow.  When I write all my wildest dreams come true.  I love it, and I hope you’ll love reading my stories as much as I love creating them.

The only thing that’s been negative about this experience of being a published author is pirates.  I’m such a whiner when it comes to pirates.  I hate seeing my hard work given away randomly by strangers; it’s a backhanded compliment.  If you know someone who downloads pirated books, please tell them how much it sucks for the author.

Wednesday, January 26, 2011

GUEST BLOG: WENDI ZWADUK

I Just Can’t Do It, Captain!

I have a good friend who told me all about the fun of fetishes. She had a couple in particular and was more than happy to tell me the fun of such activities. Actually it was great because I can use it for a story for later. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized there are certain things I know nothing about. Beyond that, there are some I just plain don’t understand. I’m a firm believer in letting the characters do what they will do. Okay, but there’s an issue. You can BS your way through some things, but there are some that unless you know exactly what you’re doing you will look like a fool.

So yeah, I listened intently and went about my business. 

You’d think I’d take the info and file it away. You’d be wrong. I ruminated on it. I decided to figure out what my characters wanted to do that I had no clue about. It was rather eye-opening.
I’ve never been in a D/s situation. Not that I don’t want to, just never came to mind. I know exactly what it’s like to be told what to do, but I have no idea the craving, the need for this interaction. I can imagine something like it, but I’d feel less than on my game to try to write about. Another one I just don’t get is the fetish wear. I’m talking the harnesses and the leather with the rings. See? I’m not even sure what they are technically named. You’ll notice my characters don’t seem to go in that direction. Not that they can’t. They just seem to be rather tame.

But here’s where the problem lies. Recently some characters came to the forefront who wanted me to tell their story. I have no idea what it’s like to live in a committed ménage. I’ve lived with roommates that felt like I was the parent, but not a sexual relationship. These three were in a committed ménage and split. Problem? Two of the three want to get back together. Problem one is my lack of knowledge in living in a ménage situation. Problem two? They have a D/s relationship. One character is very much so the Dominant and the other two are happily submissive. The more I write the Dominant, the more he demonstrates less severe Dominant attitudes. I truly wonder if the act of being a Dominant is subjective. I want to let the character do as he pleases, but I also don’t want him to come across as a wimp or a fake.

Am I going to take the easy way out and say I can’t do it? Some days I’d like to. It’s the truth. At the same time, the easy way seems to be just that—easy. I’ll keep doing research and try to at least get a grasp on what a D/s relationship is so I can better tell their story. 

Never let it be said I didn’t suffer (albeit, without much suffering) for my art.
Wendi's newest book, Tangled Up, was released this week from Total-E-Bound Books.

About the author: Thanks for enjoying this work by Wendi Zwaduk. By day she’s a SAHM of one son, two dogs, and two cats, but at night she lets her inner muse run wild and writes tales of love won, lost, and won again. If she’s not at her computer, she can be found at her local dirt tracks cheering for the Late Model cars or haunting the local library in search of new authors. Check out her blog http://www.wendizwaduk.blogspot.com and website www.wendizwaduk.com.  



Monday, January 24, 2011

GUEST BLOG: ROXANNE RHOADS

Fear and Sex- Forever Intertwined
By Roxanne Rhoads
 
Fear and sex have always been intertwined.
For most of us at some point in our lives sex has been connected with fear and fear has been connected to sex- fear of having sex, fear of getting caught having sex, fear of getting pregnant or catching something because of sex, fear of sex for the first time or fear of the first time with someone new…
Fear can be erotic, it can be an aphrodisiac. Fear can make you feel really alive. Your heart races, your blood rushes through your veins, your temperature rises and your senses are on high alert- and all of this can make sex even more exquisite.
Consider the dating ritual of the male taking the female to a horror movie or a haunted attraction- she’s frightened, he can put his arms around her, comfort her, then later when alone that closeness can become something much more erotic. Fear becomes an aphrodisiac; the horror creates a need for life affirming, pleasurable actions to drown out the fear.
What’s more life affirming and pleasurable than sex?
Another role fear plays in our sex lives are that we are often attracted to the things we fear.
Some men are attracted to powerful women, sexually aggressive women- women that they fear, women that will dominate them.
In some cultures men are so fearful of women they do anything and everything to thwart their control and power- from surgically altering their bodies so they can not feel pleasure or be attractive or just hiding them under layers upon layers of clothing. Thankfully most of us women in the US don’t have to worry about such things, but no these practices still exist in our modern world is fearsome in its own way.
But I digress. I would rather concentrate on the more pleasurable aspects of fear.
Consider women who adore the bad boys.
Bad boys are forbidden and sometimes scary. We know they are wrong for us. Bad boys can be dominating, dangerous, big and completely fearsome- and that makes us want them even more. Some of us see bad boys as a project we can fix while others just want to ride that dangerous rollercoaster of fear and arousal.
Nothing shows how strong our attraction to bad boys is more than the surge of popularity of paranormal romance and paranormal erotica books.
Supernatural bad boys are the ultimate combination of fear and sexual attraction.
Consider the vampire who could snap us in two or drain us of blood before we could do anything about it, yet we crave him like no other.
How about the ferocious werewolf who could rip us to shreds? But oh yes we are attracted to his animal magnetism.
How about the seductive demon who displays danger more than any other creature yet his sexuality is so forceful, so apparent we just cannot deny him?
Fear and desire, such a delicious combination – especially for the paranormal predator and those of us drawn to them.
I love reading paranormal romances and paranormal erotica. It is both and escape and a desire driven thrill ride, a safe one at that because in the real world would we really want to date vampire? Hmmm…that’s a discussion for another time. :-)
I also love to write paranormal erotic romances, the little tingles of fear thrown into the attraction are delicious little tidbits that make being a writer such an awesome job.
One of my favorite stories that I have written is Eternal Desire. It displays a lot of the combinations of fear and arousal- the blood racing, heart beating, fear tasting so sweet…
Eternal Desire is set in New Orleans during Halloween- that’s a recipe for a frightening aphrodisiac isn’t it? Toss in vampires, ghosts and a gorgeous stranger and you have everything you need for an arousing fear filled erotic cocktail.
In my newest release An Unexpected Evening fear and sex mingle once again in an erotic tango for two involving a centuries old vampire who a bit of a recluse and a young witch who wants to see the real man hiding under those fangs. Her enthusiasm for life and thrills won’t let him stay hiding in his shell any longer. But can she handle the intensity he unleashes?
It’s a delicious little paranormal story with just a hint of kink.
~Roxanne Rhoads
 
 

Friday, January 21, 2011

GUEST BLOG: CHARLOTTE STEIN


Endangered Species

My problem is that I can never decide. I’m never quite sure which I want more: chocolate double dream delight, or perfect praline parfait? I just don’t know, because on the one hand chocolate is awesome. But on the other hand…ohhhh, praline.

Which is why, I think, that so often I simply can’t resist merging the two in some heavenly mess of nuts and cocoa and God knows what else. I’d mix the two with my body, if I could. I’d swim in a great pool of chocolate praline goo, churning that unctuous concoction until I went blind from sweet treat overload.

But I digress. About sweets–what a shocker. When what I really wanted to talk about was my inability to choose between hot and hot, and how it often means that my stories wind up with one dominant guy, and one submissive guy.

Because as much as I love a steely eyed hunk with bending-you-over-the-credenza-roughly on his mind, I also love a good beta. You know the kind I mean–a guy who isn’t afraid to be a little vulnerable. A guy who doesn’t mind taking a little of what he’s been doling out. A guy who understands that bending over in the bedroom doesn’t mean he’s a softy in real life, you know?

Yeah, I love that kind of guy. And I find myself gravitating towards him, too, because you see him so rarely in erotic romance. He’s like an unrepresented minority, a species that’s going extinct in the wild. The RSPCA keeps putting up appeals on his behalf on the television–please save the lesser spotted and totally sexy Submissive Man. This gentle beast, when startled, can spring for the hills. But slick him up with lube and slide him across the bed and he’ll be yours for life.

And being a kindly sort, I find I can put aside my love for alphas for a moment (there’s one in my novella Closer, and one in my novel Control, so I feel he’s been dealt a fair hand) and give a little time over to the beta man. The submissive man. The man who knows what he wants in the bedroom and it isn’t always what’s expected.

Which is why I wrote Giving. If you do take a chance and buy it, I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. And the lesser spotter Submissive Man salutes you, for your hard and dedicated work in the wilds of erotic romance.

You can find Giving here:


And here’s a brief blurb:

Clarissa Levinson’s boyfriend has asked for a very unusual birthday present this year. He wants her to fulfill three wishes, and all of them require Clarissa to push her own personal boundaries and become the boss not just at work, but in the bedroom as well.

His kinky demands initially make her nervous, but the more she gives him what he wants, the weaker her inhibitions become. In fact, she’s starting to really like being the one in charge. Who knew domination could be so much fun?

Charlotte Stein has published many stories in various erotic anthologies, including Fairytale Lust from Cleis, and Sexy Little Numbers, from Black Lace. Her own collection of short stories, The Things That Make Me Give In, was named one of the best erotic romances of 2009 by Michelle Buonfiglio. She also has novellas and a novel out with Ellora's Cave, Total-E-Bound and Xcite, and you can contact her at her blog: wwwthemightycharlottestein.blogspot.com
 




Wednesday, January 19, 2011

GUEST BLOG: Wendi Zwaduk

Carry that Weight, Carry That Weight A Long Time

Yeah, I stole that line from the Beatles. I don’t think they really care. Why? Because it’s just a line.

Do you buy that?

I don’t.

In some ways, it’s nothing. It’s just a line. They made millions of dollars. They won’t miss the royalties on one measly line. 

But I look at it this way, they wrote the line and they have it protected under their artistic license. If I use their line and don’t give them credit, it’s a violation of their rights.

So why am I worrying about the Beatles? It’s not so much the Beatles, although they are a favorite band. It’s the principle of the thing. It’s not cool to thieve. And it hits very close to home for me. I write. I love writing. I love hearing from my readers and knowing my words made a difference. It makes me feel good when they tell me they want to know about one of the secondary characters. 

But it grinds my gears when I see my words being passed around. I’m not talking about friends sharing a paperback book back and forth. That’s fine. It’s not exactly the easiest time for any of us. 

I’m all for getting things free and all for finding new authors. What I don’t like is piracy. It doesn’t matter if it’s copying a Metallica song, downloading a version of the Beatles without permission, or making an ebook available for anyone to download simply because it’s “tough on everyone”.

Why am I on this soapbox? Simple. I don’t write to make lots of money. I write because it’s my passion. I write because I have characters who want their stories told. There’s blood, sweat, tears, and a part of my life in those words, no matter how long or short. I and all other authors, be it Stephen King, Nora Roberts, or even the reality show contestants who score a big book deal, don’t deserve to have the work we’ve slaved over treated as worthless. 

No, I’m not saying what Stephen King writes is worthless. Far from it. What I’m saying is when someone puts a copy of one of his or one of mine or anyone’s books in digital form, up for anyone to download, we lose. The author loses the royalties he or she deserves.  

We want to be paid for the job we do. We want to get paid for doing what we love. When someone pirates a book, then the author loses. The person downloading the story actually loses too because the person who offered the book for download is violating the rights of the author. It’s just like those warnings on DVD’s telling you not to copy a DVD because it’s against the law.

It’s not pretty and it’s not fair.

I’m not saying you shouldn’t tell your friends about new authors. By all means, spread the love, but do it legally. 

Besides, ebooks are cheaper than print books in most cases and when stored on the computer, ereader, or other digital devices it weighs a lot less. 
~~~~

Wendi's newest book, Tangled Up, is scheduled for release on January 24 from Total-E-Bound Books.

About the author: Thanks for enjoying this work by Wendi Zwaduk. By day she’s a SAHM of one son, two dogs, and two cats, but at night she lets her inner muse run wild and writes tales of love won, lost, and won again. If she’s not at her computer, she can be found at her local dirt tracks cheering for the Late Model cars or haunting the local library in search of new authors. Check out her blog http://www.wendizwaduk.blogspot.com and website www.wendizwaduk.com.  

Monday, January 17, 2011

GUEST BLOG: SEDONIA GUILLONE

 In Delicious Love Triangle, Hana is a clothing designer. She is a popular designer of of looks for the fashion tribes of Tokyo and works for one particular shop that features her work. The fashion tribes are a phenomena in Tokyo. 

The various styles originate spontaneously and are a vibrant part of the culture of young people in that city, changing every few weeks, literally. The looks there differ from anything we’re used to seeing in fashion – they’re fun, whimsical and very visually alive, incorporating so many different elements into one outfit. My favorite name of one of the types of fashion is Gothic Lolita. You can imagine. When I did my research for this story in order to portray the heroine, Hana, I went to http://www.style-arena.jp/en/ . However, the story opens with Hana being laid off from the store where she works because the owner’s new wife wants her position. Well, as the story unfolds, Hana finds a new, much, much better position!

In addition to be a clothes designer, Hana is a talented mangaka (Japanese for graphic novel artist). This is an example of one of her sketches.




Delicious Love Triangle

No sex between roommates! This is the rule that Hana and her two best friends, Hiko and Shinji live by. So, Hana decides, it’s not really breaking the rule to ask her two handsome buddies to pose in erotic positions for her while she sketches what she hopes to be the manlove graphic novel that will launch her career as a manga artist. After all, Hiko and Shinji are both straight. Even better, they’re both agreeable to the plan. It’s the perfect arrangement until…

Seeing Hiko and Shinji together arouses Hana to no end. How will she be able to control herself watching their naked bodies entwined, watching them engage in acts that are the stuff of her wildest fantasies? What’s more, bit by bit, the three of them are starting to break their most important rule.
Hiko and Shinji have both been in love with Hana for a long time and out of their love for her, they’ve respected her stupid rule about no sex. But when Hana asks them to pose for her, they see their perfect chance to do away with regulation and get the woman they love into a position of their own.

Content warning: Contains male/male sexual acts, voyeurism, exhibitionism and multiple partner sex.

Excerpt:
Ohhh. Hana covered her mouth to stifle her cry. Then she blinked. Was this possible? 

Keeping her hand firmly over her mouth she sank to her knees in the hallways and leaned forward as much as she dared. Her heart leaped into her throat. Had Hiko really just rolled on top of Shinji? Were they really naked in the bed together, their mouths locked together in a deep hot kiss?

The soji was slid back the few inches she’d left it when she’d gone back to her room to draw, fully expecting that Shinji would leave after her to go to his room. How absolutely wrong she’d been.

Her heart pounded, sending heated blood down every vein in her body. She could just feel it, like darts of fire. The searing warmth concentrated at the apex of her thighs, which pulsed now, and her breasts felt suddenly full and heavy, her nipples grazing her camisole.
Like lovers, her two friends undulated in the bed, their bodies entwined. Hana blinked again, still thinking the vision would dispel. But it didn’t. Hiko’s muscular body and pale skin contrasted with the tan hue of Shinji’s slim, leanly muscled frame. Shinji’s legs were locked around Hiko’s hips, the soles of his feet resting on the backs of Hiko’s sloping thighs. Like every yaoi manga she’d ever read, the two men sighed and moaned, and emanated passion.

Guilt assailed her. She was violating their privacy, spying on them like this. But then, they shouldn’t have left the door slid back, right? She started to turn, pulled back by another masculine moan. Her gaze whipped up to the bed. Hiko had pulled from Shinji’s kiss and now nibbled at the other man’s collarbone. One of Hiko’s large hands spanned Shinji’s hip.
The throbbing in Hana’s pussy intensified. She sat, frozen, staring at them, feeling her eyes stretched open as wide as they’d go. Hiko’s tongue came out and licked across Shinji’s dark nipple. Shinji arched his back, as if to push his flesh deeper into Hiko’s mouth. Hana stifled another moan, lest her friends catch her spying. Her cheeks burned mercilessly, both with excitement and guilt, yet she couldn’t have moved even if someone had set her on fire.

Gleaming ribbons of cum still streaked the two men’s muscles. Hana realized Shinji had climaxed all over Hiko when she’d passed by the door on her way to the kitchen for a drink of water. Hiko skimmed thick fingertips over Shinji’s stomach, gathering the milky fluid. Lifting his mouth from Shinji’s chest, he leaned back. Hana’s mouth gaped open. In all the years she’d known Hiko and Shinji, she’d never seen either of them naked. Hiko’s erection pointed upward with the angle of his body. Thick and veined, it jutting from a nest of inky black pubic hair that fanned around it and funneled into a thin trail up to his navel.

She gulped, her eyes feeling as if they were bulging from her head. She shifted her a few inches and felt then how swollen and moist her pussy was. Her gaze locked onto Hiko’s movements. He was smoothing the cum up and down the shaft of his cock. He gathered more cum and reached down, between Shinji’s legs. Ohhh. His thick fingertips worked over Shinji’s hole while Shinji groaned and arched his back. Shinji was a natural uke, the way he submitted to the man who was preparing to take him.

Coming soon to Ai Press (www.ai-press.net) In the meantime, please come and check out our current titles by D.H. Starr, Sedonia Guillone, Lee Ash and Madelynne Ellis.

Multi-published, award-nominated author, Sedonia Guillone lives on the water in Florida with a Renaissance man who paints, writes poetry and tells her she’s the sweetest nymph he’s ever met. When she’s not writing erotic romance, she loves watching spaghetti westerns, Jet Li and samurai flicks, cuddling, and eating chocolate. She writes both man/man and man/woman erotic romances and is the owner of Ai Press, an erotic romance publisher of digital and print. Find an array of titles to suit all your fantasies at www.ai-press.net





Friday, January 14, 2011

GUEST BLOG: ANNIE NICHOLAS

 Menage a Trois

Though the idea of being part of threesome sounds enticing, in reality I think it quite a challenge.  Keeping a stable relationship between two people is tough without insert another personality to the equation. How do you keep feelings from getting hurt and jealousy from blooming?

I’ve never been part of such a relationship, though I’ll admit to the fantasy.  Many romance books have started including ménage a trios and my next release has one but I didn’t want to write about it blindly.

Did I go out and have a ménage? LOL. No, my husband is too alpha possessive to believe in sharing and to be honest, so am I.  Instead, I gathered my nerve and asked. It surprised how open people are about their relationships and I gathered as much info from this treasure trove as I could.

From what I learned, there seems to be two different kinds of ménages.  One where there is the central couple who asks a third to join them for sex but with very little emotional attachment. The other is where all three are equally involved, sexually and emotionally.

I decided to give myself a migraine and chose the second option by not only writing a ménage between three lovers, but a deranged love triangle, where the affection is more turbulent than a whirlpool bath.  Love triangles can be a mess but if a resolution can be found, it makes life so much sweeter.

What is your opinion in the ménage a trios?


Caught between two vampires, Connie is torn between Rurik, the one she loves and Tane, the one she’d love to stake.

Hunger burns in Connie Bences’ soul--she craves the blood of her vampire lover, Rurik, but it’s not satisfying her needs anymore. It’s driving her insane. Desperate to find help, Rurik brings her to Rio Des Janeiro, where Tane rules the vampire nation.

The back-stabbing vampire almost killed her and Rurik when they’d first met, then used them to obtain his crown.  She would rather stake him, but the small drop of Nosferatu blood he’d forced her to drink in Budapest is blooming into a bond, one which ties her life to his. One he won’t hesitate to manipulate.

He admits to binding her so Rurik would have to remain at his side, but their timing couldn’t be any worse.  The betrayer finds himself betrayed. Tane’s rule is in upheaval and he’s forced to place his trust in two people who owe him no allegiance—her and Rurik.  In the middle of a power struggle, Connie fights to keep her lover, but didn’t plan on Tane slipping into her heart.



Excerpt:

The cab pulled in front of the hotel and the doorman helped me out after I paid for the ride.

“Senhora, are you well?”

I turned my head from searching the streets for my pursuing vampire. Still no signs of Rurik. Could it be possible? Did I win?

“Senhor Rurik, I didn’t see you in the cab.” The doorman’s comment made my hopes drop like a rock.


My lover’s hands rested on my shoulders before he whispered, “Gotcha.”

“Motherfucker.” I shrugged off his hands then stomped through the entrance to the elevators, leaving a wide-eyed doorman and a grinning vampire.

When I hit the up button, the doors slid open. Rurik stopped them from closing with his hand and stepped inside. He cornered me and leaned in for a kiss.

“Hold on.” I pushed against his chest, but may as well have tried to stop a bus. His lips brushed along mine with a feathery skill that curled my toes as his hands caressed my waist then my ass.

“You did good.” He spoke against my mouth.

“I made it to the door. We should consider it a win.” With a quirk of my eyebrow, I gave him a shove and tried to squeeze past his solid mass. The elevator stopped on our suite’s floor at the top of the building. I didn’t get far.

Rurik flung me over his shoulder one-handed. “No, it’s a loss but I’ll reward you for good effort.” He entered our room and crossed to the bedroom.

I twisted around as we passed the bed. “What are you doing?” My heart skipped a beat, the pace quickening.

He opened the closet door, pushed the clothes aside and set me in the small space.

“Don’t you dare lock me in!” The walls felt close and even though the ceiling towered over me, the space lacked air. I reached out the doorway to grasp at anything to help pull me out.

Rurik clasped my hands to his chest. “Connie, when have I done something you didn’t like?” The calm in his voice soothed me enough to listen and the use of my real name drew my attention. He didn’t use it often. Not giving me anytime to respond, he slipped my shirt over my head.

“Sex? Here?” I glanced over my shoulder to the sparse clothing on the closet rod and a cute pair of black heels on the floor. I planned to wear them later to the fireworks at the beach.

He skimmed my shorts and panties off my hips then knelt to remove my running shoes.

“I’m sweaty and I smell.”

As he stood, he pressed his clothed body to mine and reached around me. “It makes you spicy.” The bra clasp sprung behind my back. It tumbled to my feet, allowing my nipples to harden as the cold air conditioning hit them. He stepped back, his hungry stare never leaving my cleavage.

I didn’t know this game. Closet sex? If he kept the door opened, maybe I could manage. He sort of won the hunt and got to be the boss for the night. Next time we needed to change some rules to the game, I’ve never managed to escape. Either he tracked prey very well or I sucked at running away.

Rurik told me once I subconsciously wanted to get caught.

He yanked off his t-shirt and exposed a fine set of six-pack abs.

Maybe I did want him to catch me.

A discarded black silk tie lay on top of the dresser. He picked it up and snapped it against his hand.
The sharp crack made me jump and retreat farther into the closet so I stood under the rod. Getting whipped didn’t turn me on, but I needed to remember this was the vampire who’d given up being the Overlord of Budapest to be with me. Not once in the last seventeen months had he hurt me, no matter how extreme his tastes, or how vigorous our bed play. His smile reassured me and I placed my trust in him.

“Raise your arms and grasp the bar.”


I obeyed his order, swallowing around a dry throat.

With quick sure motions, he tied my wrists to the wooden clothes rod. The soft silk tie bit into my skin while a hunger sparked to life. Not just for the flesh that rippled with lean muscles in front of me, I wanted the blood pulsing in his veins.

It got worse every night. Different things set it off, I never figured them out, but the impulses have been getting stronger. It gnawed at my soul, this craving for Rurik’s blood.

With a tug, I tested my bonds.

“There’s no point in struggling. I’m very good with knots.” He undid his pants and stepped closer, a stern thin frown made him sexier. “You put some effort in escaping this time.” His whisper brushed the skin on my neck. “I appreciate it.”

“So where’s my reward?”

His icy blue eyes sparkled with amusement though his face remained grim. Dark smooth hair framed his fine, high cheek bones, the hair longer than when we met. He’d gone from a slick controlling aristocrat to a sultry fun lover. We left his city after he killed his insane Nosferatu master and traveled the world, which brought us to Rio for New Year’s Eve.

Rurik’s gaze traveled down the length of my body. The intensity of it, the desire held within, made it seem solid enough to touch me. “We should have played this game a long time ago, Bunny.”

I kicked out my foot. “Don’t call me that.”

He jumped back and grabbed my ankle. The pulse in his neck quickened and the urge to partake in his blood began to burn inside me. I needed it, craved it, couldn’t wait to sink my teeth into him. Wiggling naked almost in mid-air, I struggled to free my foot.

His feral grin intensified as he snatched my other foot and his hands slid up my legs, supporting my weight until he knelt before me with them over his shoulders.

Oh my, I now understood what my reward would be. Maybe I should have let him capture me sooner. A shiver ran up my spine at the touch of his hands. I relaxed into his grip.

“Rabbit.” He rolled the ‘r’ and made it purr from his throat, aiming the vibrations of his voice at my bud. The arrogant bastard knew how to push my buttons and how much power he held over me. Thank goodness he didn’t abuse it--much.

His voice grew huskier as he repeated my pet name. It made me tingle, I couldn’t stop my eyes from fluttering shut. Sharp fangs nipped at my thighs. “You will get thoroughly rewarded.”

Buy Now Link:   www.liquidsilverbooks.com  and available at other online bookstores.
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Annie Nicholas

Wednesday, January 12, 2011

GUEST BLOG: LIA SLATER


Tell us about your latest release.
My latest release is the third book in the Were Legends series, titled Were Blood. It's a scorching story between a feisty Were and the Vampire who's holding her captive. Any book in the series can be read as a stand alone but it might be more enjoyable to read from the beginning.


What is your favorite thing about being a romance writer?
The passion and emotion that drips out onto the page. There's nothing like the feeling of writing a moving scene, whether it includes sex or not.

What does your heroine love most about your hero? Least?
Well, besides the fact that Worth is gorgeous--tall, tanned, and tempting--Blanca loves that he's hard working. He takes care of the ones he loves and withstands a large amount of pain to do just that. What she likes least is that he's a Vampire. She has a history of being a blood slave, which creates a ton of conflict for these two.

How would you describe the world you've built?
I would describe it as a dark, sexy fairy tale. The Were Legends series is set in a made up world with its own rules and conflicts. The women wear gowns and the men wear, well, nothing most of the time. LOL! It's somewhat similar to medieval times but has bits of contemporary in there as well.


Which scene in your book do you think will leave the reading squirming in their seat?

I hope they all will. In Were Blood, I amped up the sexual tension in the beginning since I knew these two would NOT be jumping into bed together right away. If I had to choose one scene in particular, it would be the first oral sex scene on top of the kitchen table. This drives my heroine mad with lust.

What's your secret to writing a steamy scene?
I try to get deep into the character's head and show the reader how each touch, scent, taste, and sound affects her or him. Details that lure the reader in (hopefully!).


Do you have any advice for the budding erotic romance writer?
Toss those inhibitions out the bedroom window and dig in.

Where can readers find your books?
The Were Legends series can be found at Ellora's Cave. Direct link to Were Blood: http://www.jasminejade.com/pc-8752-45-were-blood.aspx

Fatal Exposure, an award winning erotic romantic suspense, can be found at:  http://www.thewildrosepress.com/wilderroses/index.php?main_page=product_info&products_id=728


All my books can be found online at Amazon, Barnes & Noble and several other online stores.




Lia Slater thinks the world would be a better place if everyone read romance novels. There's so much to learn from the storylines. Love. Loyalty. Confidence. Passion. Desire. Conflicts would be resolved with happy endings. And, of course, the sex would be mind-boggling.
Lia is well on her way to helping the world become a better place by writing steamy romance with heart-pounding emotion.
Thanks for having me!

If you're an author of romance, spicy to erotic, and you'd to do a Writer with Sizzle interview on my blog, feel free to email me.
Lia Slater

lia@liaslater.com
www.liaslater.com
www.liaslater.blogspot.com










 

Monday, January 10, 2011

GUEST POST: DAWN RYDER

High Heels…when did they begin?

High heeled shoes actually go back quite a ways into history. The first ones which snared my interested were known as pattns. They make their appearance in the middle ages. They are more of a second shoe, one that you slipped into to protect your delicate tapestry shoes when going outside. There are reports of them being between eight and thirty inches high. With the higher ones, women needed help walking.

High heeled shoes had different meanings too. The Venetians wore ones they called Chopine. These high heels were difficult to walk in and rumor had it they were designed by husbands seeking to keep their wives from liaisons. Even if that wasn’t true, they were sure to slow you down and ensure you were seen. If you were unmarried, it might be a clever ploy to attract suitors.  

The more modern form of the high heel appeared during the 1500s. Instead of being a platform style shoe, a two part model appeared. The heel was solid and attached to a more flexible piece which ran the length of the foot. A practical use of this was that the heel was used to help keep the boot in the stirrup. Boots for men and women began using a low heel. More fashionable were the lavish models worn at court. Many had expensive buckles or silk ribbons.

When I was doing research for Improper Seduction, my new book from Brava, I noticed heeled shoes making appearances in Henry VIII court. Now, they came and went but seem to have begun with Catherine de Medici. She was queen of France and rumored to be short. Anne Boleyn, Henry’s second wife adored French fashion and had several pairs of heeled shoes. Henry never wanted to be out dressed so his court was often lavish and those attending must have had to seek out the newest fashions.

In the early 1700s, France's King Louis XIV (The Sun King) decreed that only nobles could wear red heels and that no one might wear higher ones than himself. His were often five inches tall and decorated with miniature battle scenes. High heels began going through periods where the wearer tapped their foot to make it smaller and other such things. With the French revolution, Napoleon actually made heels illegal. But Marie Antoinette went to the scaffold wearing a pair.





In the New World, high heels didn’t fair well. They were considered lavish and sexual. The Puritans banned them. In the Colony of Massachusetts a woman could be tried for witchcraft if she wore them because she was obviously attempting to ‘enchant’ a man. Heels didn’t catch on in America until the Victorian era.

I think I like the velvet ones best and even snuck a few pairs into Improper Seduction. When I write as Dawn Ryder, it’s fun to play with heels but I wanted to take a moment to talk about where they came from. Some things haven’t changed! You can find an excerpt on my website MaryWine.com and Improper Seduction in stores this month! You can also find lots of excerpts on my DawnRyder.com website of more erotic tales. Cheers!

Mary Wine/Dawn Ryder

Writing was something I did as a teen for my younger brothers. My father used to take us on road trips in a motor home and I would lie in the upper bunk with my brothers just concocting stories as the miles went by. Adult life landed on my shoulders along with babies and it wasn’t until a few years ago that my first book, Dream Shadow, just showed up in my head. Grace, my heroine refused to leave, so one night I began to write and rediscovered my love for writing.

Since that first novel, I’ve written many different genres and enjoyed each one. Each character always seems to have their own flavor. Historical costuming has been my other true love and that accounts for my recent run of historical novels. I’m the one that truly enjoys crawling around old land marks and learning about the people that once stood on that same spot. Stories come to mind when I read old bronze markers and my imagination takes flight when I walk on the same cobblestone floors that an earl once did.

My family and I enjoy our southern California home; they even put up with me dragging them to the Magic Kingdom as often as I can. We enjoy historical reenactment too. My sons are the only boys in town that think out-growing their top hats is cause for alarm. My writing desk sits next to several sewing machines that have a constant ‘in progress’ historical garment of some sort sitting on it. When my husband and I go to a formal dinner, it’s often in tails and bustle because we love our Victorian evening wear.