The cover will be revealed in it’s full glory on Monday. So for now you’ll have only the banner to stare at. AND I will be announcing some self pub news this coming week as well. I’m so excited!
Unedited Snippet from BA2: Goal: A Mate (due out Feb 27th from Etopia Press)
“Brandon,” she whispered, voice rough and low.
“Kelly,” he murmured. Brandon paused, azure depths darkened to the color of sapphires. His tongue flicked out to trace the seam of her lips. She opened up for him without a single complaint, her own tongue slipping out to meeting his. With a groan, he kissed her, exploring her mouth. The taste of deep, rich whisky washed over her taste buds, making her yearn for more. It was warm and sweet, with undertones of cinnamon and something more.
He pulled her head back, allowing him to deepen the contact. She moaned and arched her chest. One of his fingers blazed a path along her jaw and down her throat to trace along her neckline.
She wished she was naked, her flesh exposed to his touch. Needing to do more than just sit and let him take what he wanted, she lifted her arms and sunk one hand into his hair, gripping it tight to hold him where he was. With her other hand, she unbuttoned his shirt slowly until she could part the panels and touch him in a way she’d only dreamed about. His skin was feverish. With each flex of his muscles, his chest rippled. Maybe it was the whiskey or her exhaustion, but she couldn’t find a single reason not to be kissing him right now. In fact, all thought had evaporated.
The roughened tip of his finger teased her, dipping into the valley of her cleavage and withdrawing, before blazing a path of fire along the bottom edge of her sweater. Each pass made her top feel tighter, her breasts seem fuller, as if the simple wool fabric couldn’t hold back their bounty. He hooked his index finger into the dip and tugged. The threaded hem scraped against her chest, sending a ripple of sensation around her torso. She whimpered and arched her back, urging him on without words to tear, take, cup, squeeze.
He didn’t do any of those things. Brandon removed his hand and coasted down over her breast in a light tease before slipping down her side and behind her. She felt the cloth pull away from her torso before it was lifted up. With a sigh of relief she raised her arms over her head. He let go of her ponytail, yanked off her sweater, and dropped it to the floor.
She scooted back, allowing him to look his fill at her bare breasts. Under his scrutiny, her nipples pebbled and goose flesh rose on her arms and across her chest. She watched emotions flit across his face: desire, awe, happiness, acceptance, relief. Each of those sentiments was echoed within her. She wanted to reach out, cup his face, and kiss him. There was no way to say this was the alcohol talking. The buzz of the whiskey had faded away to nothing.
“Put your hands behind your back.” His voice was ragged and torn like a voice caught by the storm and distorted. He reached for his belt.
She didn’t ask what he intended to do. All she knew was that she wanted whatever it was he offered her.
“Do you trust me?” He stared at her.
-End of Snippet-
The Rights to the Vampiropolis books have been returned to me and will be revised and re-released later on.
Thank you for your support!
Last year I chose Ellie Goulding’s Burn for 2014. For 2015 I choose Jessie J’s Masterpiece.
Jessie J- Masterpiece
Enjoy and Happy New Year! May your 2015 be Blessed, Prosperous and Filled with more Happiness than Sadness and more Joy than Anger.
Starting 2015 I hope to start re-releasing several books that I’ve gotten the Rights back. All of them will be revised and some will be broken up to be stand alone books. Here’s a list of all the books that I have the Rights back to and will be revised and re-released through self-publishing. I’ll post when I have more info on when some of the books will be out again.
With His Mind
In Her Fantasies
Children of Earth:
Catering to Haley
Small Town Lovers:
Ba’al & Bondage
Seducing the Wallflower (will kick off a new trilogy)
Chocolate Bliss (will kick off a new series)
Unsealed Desires (will be put into new series with Chocolate Bliss)
Dog Sled (New Title)
Chocolate Shock (will kick off a new series with a new title)
Demon’s Captive (will possibly start a new series or be a stand alone)
Mating Fever (Originally part of a charity anthology)
When You Wish Upon a Pixie
The idea started a few weeks ago when I was trying to figure out what to do with Cinnamon Swirl bread that was going stale. I had an idea of using it in a French Toast recipe but didn’t want to do just the usual recipe so I asked some friends for ideas and the wonderful Lissa Matthews and Leah Braemel gave me some suggestions I could work with. I settled on using Gingerbread spices (since I liked them and beyond coffee I don’t work with them in cooking.). I Googled Gingerbread Recipes for spice measurements and turned to the Food Network for the French Toast components (how much milk to use, how many eggs, etc.). I settled on using Robert Irvine’s French Toast Recipe as a base and made adjustments. Here’s my recipe:
Cinnamon Swirl Gingerbread French Toast
7 slices on Pepperidge Farm Cinnamon Swirl Bread (maybe 8 if you can work it)
1/4 teaspoon Nutmeg
1 teaspoon Ginger
2 tablespoons Brown Sugar
1/4 teaspoon Ground Cloves
1/4 teaspoon Ground All Spice
1/4 Cup Milk
1/2 teaspoon Vanilla Extract
Mix spices first and set aside (I mixed them the night before so I had less work in the morning). I measured out the milk in a measuring cup, added in the extract and mixed that together before I added in the first egg, a spoonful of the spice mixture and stirred. I repeated the process until I’d used up all the eggs and spices then poured it into a glass baking dish. I soaked the bread for 1 min per side. While I waited for the bread to be ready I heated a pan and put in a large hunk of butter (I use Smart Balance Butter Spread) and added a bit of olive oil to keep the butter from burning. Once it was all melted and the bread was ready I started the frying. Once done I topped with powdered sugar. You can douse on some maple syrup. I suggest having bacon with the toast. (Charlene, you know I couldn’t leave out the bacon. My Super Twin Jodi Redford would’ve disowned me for a minute or so. Can’t have that).
The taste of Cinnamon and the Gingerbread spice mixture was light so I didn’t get a lot of heat. If you are feeling more daring or are more advanced in cooking than I am (I only cook/bake once in awhile when I’m so inclined), you can adjust the spice levels to your taste.
A quick Thank You to Jessica Coulter Smith for helping me with the directions.
Ryan Porter is a sculptor, and beneath his callused hands, even the most rigid metals bend to his will. So, too, does his girlfriend Megan—a confident, strong woman who delights in submitting to Ryan’s dominance in the bedroom.
Megan is a Mountie, and she’s spent the past few years in the arctic following her career dreams. Family obligations kept Ryan at home, but their love survived the distance thanks to several hot visits. A Mountie always gets her man, and Megan is bound and determined to keep Ryan.
Now Megan’s with Ryan for the holidays…but how long will this visit last? She’s always been willing to do anything Ryan desires, but will he finally tell her that all he needs for Christmas is her?
I NEED YOU FOR CHRISTMAS
Copyright © 2012 Leah Braemel
The glow from the slumbering embers shifted across the ceiling and into the corners of the dark room when Meg lifted herself up on one arm and peered over Ryan at the clock.
“Hey, what are you doing awake this early?” Ryan brushed her hair from her face.
“I’m used to getting up around now. Did I wake you?”
“Nah, I’ve not slept much.”
Could have fooled her, he’d been so still through the night. Though come to think of it, she hadn’t heard any of that soft snore he normally did.
“I couldn’t stop thinking. About you.” His voice deepened on the last statement. “Thinking about how I wanted to kiss you.”
“What stopped you?”
“I didn’t want to wake you.”
“So what’s stopping you now?” She turned until her lips touched his. Another deep drugging kiss, thoroughly ravishing her mouth, leaving no doubt that he was in charge. There was no hint of softness about him when he broke off the kiss and stared down at her.
“I love you.” Without waiting for a reply, he skated his lips down her cheek, peppering kisses down the length of her throat while his hands traced down her belly, over her hips and between the smooth skin of her thighs.
He knew just the spots that turned her muscles to goo beneath his fingers, his lips. Moans built in her throat, escaped in shuddering hitches. Her skin tingled everywhere he’d touched, small sparks that burrowed and heated her blood.
“Get on your hands and knees, Meg.” His tone reminded her of one of her instructors at the training academy.
Her blood heated, raced through her belly to pool at the juncture of her thighs. “Yes, sir.”
Heat flared in his expression. Approval of her whispered response, her immediate submission.
When she’d first met Ryan, she’d only just realized how much a guy taking charge in the bedroom was the key to her sexual satisfaction. It had been a pleasant and exciting surprise their first time making love that while he’d treated her with love and respect that he expected in return, he’d revealed an innate dominance.
It wasn’t that he was a capital-D dom, nor was he into all the master/slave crap she heard bandied about in the news, but he’d sensed without her asking that she needed someone else to take charge of closing the proverbial bedroom door to all her worries and concerns.
Once she became a Mountie, and she took the duty for other people’s lives in her hands, the trust she had in letting go and turning all her worries over to him became like a drug.
Warm breath heralded the first touch of his lips against her thigh. His fingers parted her folds, and seconds later, his tongue flicked out and feathered over her clit.
How she managed without his touch for so long was beyond comprehension. Everything was right in her world when she was in his arms. All her worries, her concerns, evaporated, instead replaced with a Ryan-induced euphoria.
*HARLEQUIN COVER ART: Cover Art Copyright© 2010 by Harlequin Enterprises Limited permission to reproduce text granted by Harlequin Books S.A. Cover Art used by arrangement with Harlequin Enterprises Limited. All rights reserved. © and ™ are trademarks owned by Harlequin Enterprises Limited or its affiliated companies, used under license.
Sex hot enough to burn their worlds down…
Pietro doesn’t think he has time for love. Being a demon king and part owner of Seven Sins Inn leaves him little time for women. But when his friends claim that they’ve found the perfect match for him, Peitro is determined to prove that he doesn’t need a set up–he can find his own date, thank you very much. Undeterred, his friends send him to investigate a “problem” at one of the Inn’s guest functions, where Pietro sees the woman of his dreams, right there in the very kissable flesh.
Paranormal negotiator Callisto Monroe went to the Seven Sins Inn for a friend’s wedding, hoping she could scope the place out for work. But she didn’t plan on being swept away by the hot, dark-haired demon, or spending a weekend having the hottest sex of her life. All that’s well and good. But when things get too hot to handle, how is she supposed to protect her heart?
Author Note: This book was previously published under the title Mudslide but has been revised for redistribution.
“I’m not like the rest of my kind. I have no desire to hurt you or look down on you. In my brief dealings with mortals, I have found I like them very much. Especially you.” He finally turned to look at her, eyes glittering with intensity. The ruby gaze dropped, looking her over.
Arousal flared hot within her, her stomach tightening into knots. Liquid heat slipped down, and her pussy throbbed as her panties dampened, tingling with need. An image of his fingers slipping over her thick nether lips, teasingly slow, rose in her mind.
Projection. The demonic talent of projecting images into the mind of a susceptible victim, or in this case an object of desire—her. She shifted, trying to stave off the ache, and the picture changed, a tongue replacing the fingers, tracing the sides of her labia before circling her clit.
“Take off your panties. I want you to touch yourself, show me those beautiful lips,” he ordered.
Her clit ached, thudded insistently. Her nipples pulsed at the low growl of his voice. A glance at his crotch showed her the large bulge pressing against his fly.
“Is that for me?” she asked, raising the hem of her skirt. The idea of doing this for him didn’t put her off—in fact, the tension in her body increased as her juices dripped onto her thighs.
“Yes, every inch of me is for you. I ache to be inside you.” His voice dropped lower, to a whisper, his words increasing the heat between them. She wanted to see him, see the pulsing length that showed her his desire.
“Show me. If I show you my pussy, you show me your cock,” she teased.
“You’re playing with fire.” He groaned and spun the steering wheel sharply. The car jerked hard to the right and stopped, engine still running.