Archive for the ‘Jodi Redford’ Category

Book Spotlight: Kinky Klaus by Jodi Redford

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Kinky Claus by Jodi Redford




‘Tis the season to be naughty…


The only thing worse than the annual office Christmas party is attending the stinkin’ thing alone. Refusing to consign herself to that fate yet again,
Marissa Wagner throws her normally sensible self aside and does what any newly adventurous—okay, desperate—woman in her shoes would do—she hires a male
escort. But when he arrives for their pre-party introduction her situation goes from problem solved, to one holy whopper of a complication. Her paid-for
dream man…is also her best friend’s brother.


Trig Campbell has been in the escorting biz long enough to realize there’s a risk of being set up with someone he knows. Never in a million years did he
count on that person being Marissa. Out of all of Jane’s friends, Rissa’s always been the less wild of the bunch. Now that fate’s in his corner, he’s more
than game to help her explore her bad girl side and play out every kinky fantasy they can. Getting past her doubts is no easy feat. Fortunately he knows a
thing or two about cranking up the carnal heat, and soon he and Marissa embark on a week-long intensely erotic journey that leaves them both shaken and
craving more.


As their time together draws closer to an end, Trig is haunted by a question he’d never expected to face. What possible future can a gigolo offer a woman
like Marissa? And can he let her go when the time comes?


Warning: This book contains a player well-versed in the fine art of sin, a good girl who’s about to find out how delicious it is to be bad, enough kinky
uses for a candy cane to make an elf blush, and verifiable proof that Santa does indeed come more than once a year.



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Excerpt #1:


He gently chaffed her hand between his. “Rissa, it’s okay. This isn’t much different than a blind date. Only we have the benefit of already knowing each
other. That’s kind of a good thing, don’t you think?”

“Uh, no.”


She gaped at him like he’d suddenly sprouted an extra head. “Because you’re Jane’s brother. And you’re younger than me.” She darted a look toward the
nearest table before leaning closer to him and dropping her voice to a whisper. “Also I freakin’ paid for you.”

All three of her concerns were expected and no simple barricade to bust through. Best to start with the lowest on the calamity scale. “You’re what, five
years older than me, tops? Don’t think that even qualifies you as a cougar.”

She grimaced. “Oh God, you would have to use that word.”

“I happen to think older women are hella sexy.”

She offered him a peevish look that was downright adorable. “You just said I’m not that much older than you.”

He shrugged. “I’ll make an exception for you.”

That finally earned a ghost of a smile from her. Just as quickly as it appeared, the mesmerizing sight vanished and she frowned, her eyes widening slightly
behind her tortoise frame glasses. “You aren’t suggesting we go through with this!”

“Why not? According to the information I was given, you need a date for your Christmas party, and I’m available. I don’t see any problem with this

She dropped her focus to their linked fingers. Despite her effort to hide her face he still made out the fierce blush creeping across her cheeks. She
cleared her throat. “Trig, I—I just don’t think this is going to work out.”

“If you’re worried what Jane will think, trust me, I have no plan to tell her about any of this.”

She returned her stare to him. “Does she know what you do for a living?”

He grunted. “No. That info would go over like a bag of bricks with my sis. She has a hard enough time with my other side job.”

Her brow furrowed. “Other side job?”

So apparently Jane hadn’t spilled the beans to any of her friends. Or at least not to Marissa. Not that he was necessarily surprised, given how his sis
viewed his decision to put off going back to school to get his MFA. Not much he could do about that until he got a decent chunk taken out of his already
sky-high student loan.

He scrubbed a hand over his jaw. This was another conversation he’d never anticipated occurring. Might as well get it all out in the open though. Shit, if
the escort thing hadn’t scared her off by now his other gig likely wouldn’t be the final straw breaking the camel’s back. He hoped. “I dance for an
all-male revue.”

She double blinked. “You’re a stripper?”

“Not full time, but…yeah.”

“Huh. No wonder you’re in such amazing shape.” Her scrutiny drifted to his chest before quickly flicking back upward to his chin as if she were deeply
mortified at getting caught red-handed checking him out. Considering the amount of women who visually molested him on a daily basis—even with his clothes
on—her reaction was adorably goofy.

He bit back a grin. “I’m glad you noticed.”

She rolled her eyes. “You can stop pretending that you don’t know your body is the Eighth freakin’ Wonder of the World.”

He chuckled. “Not that I don’t appreciate the flattery—especially coming from you—but that’s a pretty hefty claim to make without seeing all I have to

Her eyes widened again. Oh yeah. She’d definitely picked up on the underlying invitation he’d snuck in there. He deliberately dropped his gaze to her
mouth. “If you want a demonstration before actually buying the goods—”

“Trig.” Her coloring rivaled the hat she’d tucked in her lap.

His face physically hurt from grinning so hard. “I was only going to suggest that you should come watch me at Sinners Friday night.”

“Oh.” She shifted restlessly in her seat. “I’m having dinner with my mom that night.”

It was a good bet that was a lie, judging from the way she stumbled over her words and immediately averted her gaze. “Then I guess you’ll have to take me
sight unseen.” He brushed his thumb along the outside of hers. “Unless you’d prefer a private dance back at your place.”

She squirmed on the bench again. “Is that something you regularly offer your clients?”

“No, though sometimes they ask. Most of the women aren’t looking for anything sexual, believe it or not.”

“H—have you ever slept with any of them?” A rosy flush crawled upward along her neck. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. It’s really none of
my business.”

“No, you deserve to know, and I don’t mind disclosing the information.” He took a deep breath and expelled it slowly. The last thing he wanted to do was
scare Marissa off, but he also believed in being one hundred percent honest when it came to his sexual history. “I’ve never accepted money to have sex with
a woman. What they pay me is strictly for what’s on the agreement form. But a couple of times there have been mutual attractions that led to stuff
happening after I got off the clock.”

He continued tracing her finger, following the curve down to the base of her thumb. He’d never found the simple act of holding a woman’s hand to be this
intimate and erotic. Then again, he probably wouldn’t have the same response if it wasn’t Marissa. Which just went to show the effect she had on him. How
fucking mind blowing would it be having his cock buried deep inside her, feeling her hot and liquid around him while her nails raked his back? He lifted
her hand and bit the tip of her finger, scraping it lightly with his teeth.

Her lips parted on a breathy exhale. The sound wrapped around his cock and squeezed. He released her finger but kept caressing her hand. “Invite me back to
your place, Rissa.”

Yes, he was pushing her. Hard and fast. It might very well backfire on him and she’d run out of the shop in the next two seconds. But he’d never been one
to back away from going after what he wanted. And what he wanted was Marissa—naked, gasping, and coming her brains out underneath him.


Excerpt #2:


Jane herded them to the escalator and they rode it to the second floor where they braved the cosmetic counter ladies and their arsenal of noxious perfume

Doing her best to contain her coughs, Marissa ducked into the women’s evening wear section and bee-lined for the sales rack. She spotted a zebra-print
number that resembled a bandage rather than something a sane woman should be seen wearing in public. Quickly hiding the ensemble behind an oversized
sweater before Jane could pounce on it, Marissa continued appraising her choices. A respectably understated emerald green velvet sheath caught her eye and
she freed it from its place of honor between a pair of leather skinny jeans and a powder blue cashmere cardigan.

Situating the dress against her front, she pivoted sideways. “What do you think of this?”

“Simple and sexy. I like it.”

She jerked her head up and gaped at Trig’s grinning mug. Before she could get her mouth to function she was interrupted by Jane’s perfectly timed
appearance. Spearing her brother with a fierce look, Jane sidled next to Marissa. “What? Your bromance already on the rocks? Guess you shouldn’t have kept
him waiting while consorting with us peons.”

“No, Jack texted me that he had an emergency pop up.” Trig propped his elbow on top of the clothes rack and flashed a smile that made Marissa squirm.
“Looks like I’m all yours.”

“Lucky us.” Snorting, Jane turned her attention to the dress Marissa was clutching. She clucked her tongue. “Not enough cleavage. Or leg.”

“You’re not dressing me like a hoochie mama.”

Her expression pained, Jane glanced at Trig. “On second thought, you might come in useful. Clearly I need all the help I can convincing Polly the Prude
here to wear something that wasn’t designed for Bingo Night at the convalescent home.”

Marissa rolled her eyes.

“Occasion?” Trig inquired. Judging from the wicked twinkle in his irises he knew damn well what the dress was for.

“My office work party,” she gritted between her teeth.

“The game plan is to get her laid while she’s there.”

Marissa was torn between the desire to throttle Jane for that comment or crawl into the security of the nearest clothes rack to hide. That last option
sounded like the wiser choice when Trig’s mouth tipped upward at one corner.

“Oh yeah?”

Marissa shook her head adamantly. “Don’t listen to her. She doesn’t know what she’s talking about.”

“Bullshit.” Jane flicked her wrist. “Everyone knows office parties are for faxing photo copies of your ass to your ex and/or freaky sex with that
questionable guy from the mailroom. Preferably you’ll kill two birds with one stone by getting it on atop of said copier.”

“I really worry about you sometimes.” Marissa risked another peek in Trig’s direction. He was still eyeing her with blazing interest. Fairly certain he was
mentally calculating the proper alignment required for Xeroxing her naked fanny, she hugged the dress tighter to her chest and inched toward the fitting
rooms. “I’m going to, uh, try this on.”

Jane grumbled under her breath and stalked to a display of designer evening gowns on the opposite side of the walkway. Her credit card already cringing in
anticipation of what her friend would attempt to foist on her, Marissa scooted around Trig. He surprised her by falling in step next to her, and she slid
him a questioning glance.

“Thought you might require some assistance getting out of your bra.” Crooking his arm around her shoulder, he flashed his teeth in a wolfish grin.

She smothered a laugh. “I’m sure you have plenty of experience in that department, but fortunately mine unhooks in the front.” Oh Lord, why did she tell
him that? Discussing her undergarments sure as hell didn’t help her situation.

“I’d never live with myself if you broke a nail fiddling with the hook.”

“Your concern for my manicure is touching. Truly.”

“Oh, there will be plenty of touching involved. Most likely some licking and sucking too.”

Her nipples tightened at his teasing promise. She really shouldn’t be enjoying this flirty seduction as much as she was. Clearing her throat, she gave a
pointed look to the arm he’d draped around her.

Sighing in exaggerated dejection, he dropped his arm. “You know where to find me when that stubborn clasp gives you problems.”

She stepped forward—and killed her squeak when he delivered a light smack to her ass. Flustered, she slashed a look over her shoulder to ensure that Jane
hadn’t caught the gesture. Her best friend was still absorbed with the task of scrutinizing the overpriced dresses in the adjacent department. Gusting a
relieved breath, Marissa pointed her finger at Trig. “Stop being so naughty.”

“You haven’t seen anything yet.”


Excerpt #3:


Trig positioned himself on his mark behind the curtain. Frank signaled the DJ and gave Trig a thumbs-up before shuffling out of sight.

“Ladies,” the DJ’s voice boombed through the speakers. “How many good girls do we have in the house tonight?”

A smattering of catcalls echoed beyond the curtain.

“Dirty liars.” The DJ’s retort was met with raucous laughter from the crowd. “All right, now let’s hear it from all the bad girls out there.”

The entire club damn near shook under the exuberant “Woohoo’s” and “Hell yeahs” from the women.

“That’s more like it. Fortunately for y’all, we’ve got a special guest who flew in all the way from the North Pole to tantalize you with his own pole.
Which one of you sexy bitches wants to sit on his lap and tell him about the big package you want stuffed in your stocking?”

More rowdiness erupted from the patrons.

“What’s that? I can’t hear you.”

The volume of the ladies’ shouts and all around insanity increased by a thousand fold as they vied with each other to be the one picked. The hoopla was all
for show and to get them worked up and their wallets loosened. The woman had already been chosen, thanks to James’s perpetual boner.

“He sees you when you’re sleeping. He knows when you’re awake and fucking hornier than hell.” The improvised line triggered the loudest series of hollers
yet. “He knows when you’ve been bad or good. So you better be baaaaad, for goodness sake. Because we have the one…the only…Kinky Claus in the house!”

The velvet drapes lifted with a dramatic swoosh and the deafening cheers of the crowd nearly drowned out the opening bars to Santa Claus Needs Some Lovin’.
Their excitement energized him, filling him with the heady rush he always experienced when he was in performance mode. In that moment, he was Kinky Claus.

Strutting to the center of the stage, he worked the ladies, teasing them with dirty hip rolls and promised flashes of skin he didn’t completely deliver on.
The women ate it up, and several of the more rambunctious ones up front shook their tatas in encouragement. He’d been in plenty of strip clubs throughout
his life, both as a performer and an occasional patron. He had to admit that women were hella more wild and crazy than his male counterparts.

From the corner of his eye he spotted Frank approaching one of the tables. Damn. He’d completely forgotten to check out Miss Five ahead of time. Not often
he got the opportunity to do that before the female was hauled up onto the stage.

“Looks like we have our lucky lady.” The DJ’s announcement drifted over the cacophony of music and boisterous female chants of, “Kinky Claus! Kinky Claus!
Kinky Claus!”

Taking that as his cue, Trig pivoted and claimed the chair set up to the left of him. In other routines he typically started off with the female seated,
but this particular act initially called for a bit of role reversal. He glanced toward the stairs leading up to the stage, fully expecting to see Frank
with the woman in tow. Nada.

Frowning, Trig peered toward the table to determine the holdup. Frank’s burly frame blocked most of the view, but from what Trig could detect, Frank was
dealing with some reluctance from Miss Five. Occasionally they got a shy one. Not often, but it did happen. Usually everything worked out fine once they
got up here and Trig put them at ease. Hell, half the time they ended up not wanting to leave the stage. It was always the quiet ones who surprised him the
most and he had the best fun with.

The other women at Five joined in Frank’s efforts to coax their tablemate into abandoning her seat. Their encouragement must have done the trick, because
Frank suddenly stepped aside with a pleased grin. That’s when Trig had his first unobstructed view of his soon-to-be lap partner. He stared at Marissa,
shock punching him dead center in the solar plexus. Damn good thing he was sitting down, otherwise he’d be flat on the floor.

What the hell was she doing here?

Duh, you invited her, moron. Never in a million years would he have thought she’d take him up on it. Not after the way they ended things last night.

Shit. How was he going to get through this routine? All of the full-on body contact and suggestive grinding.

The candy cane.

Oh sweet Jesus. Not the candy cane.

Cover Reveal: Hurricanes and Handcuffs by Jodi Redford

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Cover Reveal

Hurricanes and Handcuffs by Jodi Redford

Release Date- Feb. 1st




Gabrielle Scott is fed up with helping her playboy boss seduce and woo his countless bimbettes courtesy of her culinary masterpieces. Yeah, the pay is
good, and you can’t beat the luxurious digs she’s treated to as his resident personal chef. But she can’t afford the frustration of living under the same
roof with the one man who drives her crazy in every possible way. The damnable truth? She’s in love with the irredeemable bastard, and the only way she’ll
get over him is to get naked under him. The plan? Attend Jax’s annual Mardi Gras ball incognito and entice him into a hot night of sin—right before handing
in her resignation.


Jaxon Noble always gets what he wants. Especially when it comes to the opposite sex. So when Gabbi shows up at his party in an eye-popping costume and
outrageously flirts with him it’s a foregone conclusion that she’ll finally be his. About damn time the stubborn woman came to her senses. He’s more than
happy to go along with her game, and the combustible heat they generate together proves it was well worth the wait to have her. But when morning comes and
Gabrielle calmly announces she’s quitting, Jax is faced with the sobering fact that perhaps money can’t buy everything. Or more to the point—the only
person who’s ever meant anything to him.


For someone who’s used to winning at all costs, losing Gabbi isn’t an option. And Jax will pull out every sweet and sexy trick to convince her to take a
chance on a forever with him. Even if it means handcuffing her to his bed.


Warning: This book contains a sassy chef, one determined bad boy billionaire, Fur-lined handcuffs and inappropriate consumption of beignets, several sinful
drizzles of honey, and enough sizzling chemistry to set off the smoke alarms.


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Perfect Chemistry Blog Tour

Release Blitz Perfect Chemistry by Jodi Redford


Perfect Chemistry by Jodi Redford

August 11, 2014


Perfect Chemistry blurb:


When it comes to sexy geeks, Leo Martinez and Devlin Hawke are as hot as they come. But falling for the wrong guy has always been Sidney Chase’s forte.
She’s not about to submit to her inner bad girl by giving in to her secret fantasies about her sex-on-a-stick bosses. When she’s accidentally exposed to
the supercharged aphrodisiac in their lab, Sidney tosses aside her inhibitions and unknowingly provides her bosses with an eye-popping display of self
lovin’ courtesy of the office security cameras.


Despite their mutual craving for Sidney, Leo and Devlin made a pact long ago to keep her off limits. The last thing they’d wanted was to scare off their
best PA by overwhelming her with their kinky tendencies. Witnessing the arousing effects of their aphrodisiac elixir on Sidney changes everything. Not only
is she the answer they’ve been looking for in regards to fine-tuning their formula, she’s the perfect woman for them. And with a little help from one
helluva sinful science experiment, they’ll prove that love is far more potent than anything manufactured in a bottle.


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My First Movie Monster- Jodi Redford

Thanks to the awesomesauce Selena Illyria for inviting me to share my first movie monster experience. I’ll admit that when she mentioned the topic I had to really think on this one for a bit. You see, I’ve watched a crapton of horror and monster movies and it was TOUGH to remember where my love for this particular genre of film initially took root. But then the answer slapped me upside the head. SWAMP THING. Holy crapola, I’m kinda ashamed to admit that it took me a whole five minutes to recall the epic experience of this movie. For those not familiar with this cinematastic masterpiece, it stars the reigning queen of all things awesome and campy, Adrienne Barbeau, as well as another of my favorite actors, Ray Wise, who portrays Doc Holland—AKA Swamp Thing. One of the things I love about this movie is that the monster is actually the hero. Which of course means he gets the girl, right? I know what you’re thinking. A walking mutated plant-man. It’d be like dating a philodendron. Or worse, a podocarpus. But I guess when you’re trapped in the jungle and your options are limited, a girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do. Let’s just hope that she’s got a green thumb, or that relationship is doomed.


Sweet Sizzle

Only 99 cents at Amazon  Barnes & Noble  ARe  Itunes

sweet-sizzle-fb-coverValentine’s Day—the bane of Rory Sinclair’s existence. Hard to forgive the one holiday responsible for the single most moronic decision of her life. If it was up to her, she’d skip anything to do with cupid, but with her business partner home sick with the flu, she’s stuck delivering a bunch of cookie bouquets to a local firehouse. Who knows, maybe she’ll cure her Valentine’s Day neurosis and heat up the mattress with a hunky firefighter. Her plan of donning some edible undies and getting her freak on goes up in flames though the instant she steps through the doors of Station 5 and spots Bennet Jackson—the man responsible for her decade long Valentine’s Day boycott.

No matter how hard he’s tried, Ben has never gotten over the innocent girl he foolishly let slip between his fingers. When Rory unexpectedly crashes back into his world, he figures it’s his only shot at righting the wrongs of his past and getting her back in his bed and his life. For good. Unfortunately, she has other plans. Ones that don’t include him. He’s well aware that she has every reason to despise him, but if there’s one thing he’s up for, it’s a challenge. Because there’s no way in hell he’s losing the woman of his dreams again. And this time he’s prepared to pull out every dirty, sexy, and hotter-than-sin trick to convince her to stay.

For more on Jodi:

13 Days of Halloween: Jodi Redford


Hot Seat Interview with Jodi Redford

13 Days of Halloween Edition

Please Welcome Jodi Redford to the Hot Seat. Jodi is known for her scintillatingly sexy, sweet and funny stories that can touch your heart and have you reaching for the…ice.

I have the Cabana Men set up a comfy leather chair for Jodi, put out the peanut butter cookies and some coffee, and adjust the spotlight.  Once everything is set up, I snap my fingers have the dragon Cabana Men lead her in and settle her in her seat.


Ready for the Q&A? Okay, here we go!


  1. Okay, so you are trapped in a cave with a hell hound, demon, dragon and a space pirate who would you choose to help lead you to safety?


JR: What? I have to leave the cave?!? Whhhhhhyyyy? There’s a hell hound, demon, dragon, and space pirate in there! *clings to cave wall*


Okay, if I absolutely have to leave—I dunno, maybe the cave is being redecorated or something—I’d chose the dragon to lead me to safety. Because hello, dragon. Mr. Hot Breath is basically a walking Bic lighter. Will need him for igniting that fire for the search party to find…eventually. >.>

SI: Good choice and don’t forget he can bring you food and keep you…warm at night.

  1. Hey! Stop staring at the leather clad butts of the Cabana Men, pay attention. Okay, you are given handcuffs, a piece of silk and a flogger what do you do with those items?

JR: *Stares a little harder at leather clad butts of the Cabana Men* Hm, I have NO IDEA what I would do with those items. I suppose I could turn the handcuffs into bracelets, and depending on how big the piece of silk is, make a snazzy sarong out of it. The flogger could probably make a nifty hair accessory. I foresee a fashion trend in the works here.

SI: You’d use it for fashion? Are you a pod person? You’re not thinking of using those items for anything dirty? *is shocked*

  1. You are stuck on an island what five things do you hope is stuck with you?


JR: Assuming I still have the handcuffs, piece of silk, and the flogger…the 5 must-haves would be my Ipod (Because I need my music for Disco Night with the Natives), my IPad and perfect internet connection (Because more than an hour without internet and I turn into Jack Nicolson’s character from The Shining. Bad news for the natives.), coffee and my Keurig machine (See explanation for item #2. Very similar outcome.), and last but not least, chocolate. I know that’s technically 6 things, but making me forsake chocolate is cruel and unusual punishment.

SI: *makes mental note to keep axes away from Jodi* Chocolate is it’s own food group and I saw on the internet that it’s also a veggie cause it grew from a plant therefore it’s salad or something.

  1. Space Pirates have kidnapped you. You manage to conquer the Captain and make him your man toy. You have to rename your ship and give yourself a moniker worthy of the Dread Pirate Roberts. What do you name your ship and what is your Pirate name?

JR: Aye, I get kidnapped by space pirates on nearly a weekly basis, so I’ve already put great thought into this one. My ship would of course be the Millennium Penguin, and my pirate name is Runs With Scissors Iron Britches LaRoux. If that isn’t worthy of striking terror into the hearts of pretty much everyone, then I don’t know what is.


SI: Millennium Penguin. We really do share a brain. Running with scissors is very dangerous.

  1. You write some super sexy stories. What makes a hero sexy? What turns you on about them? Other than their dirty, dirty mouths.


JR: Hm, there are so many different aspects that go into making a hero sexy. For me, it has a lot more to do with his personality and how he treats the heroine than anything else. I like a hero with a bit of a wicked sense of humor. It shows that he has a fun side, and doesn’t take himself *too* seriously. I absolutely LOVE a hero who isn’t afraid to talk dirty now and then. But sometimes he doesn’t need to say anything at all. A naughty grin can speak volumes, and leave the heroine wondering exactly what raunchy scenarios are tumbling around in his deliciously dirty mind! Another major turn on for me when it comes to heroes is his ability to make the heroine feel like she’s the center of his universe. When they’re together, she is his complete focus. And I don’t just mean when they’re setting the bed sheets on fire, either. If danger is around the corner, his first priority is guaranteeing her safety. A fiercely protective hero is UBER sexy!


SI: Which is why your heroes are uber awesome!

  1. Your heroines are so awesome, vulnerable but strong and funny and open minded. What inspires you to write such wonderful heroines?

JR: Oh man, you’re making me all sniffly here, Se. I’m so glad you like my heroines. ? Honestly, my main inspiration is probably all of the wonderful women who populate my daily existence and are true heroines in their own right. I truly believe as women, we’re all strong, weak, brave, scared, interesting, flawed, colorful, quirky, beautifully imperfect creatures. That’s a great character goldmine, amiright?

SI: *hands over the tissues* Absolutely! Hear! Hear!

  1. You are a mischievous minx, you know that? What shenanigans has your hell hound gotten you into lately that will turn into a story?


JR: Oh my goddess, that hell hound is a handful, lemme tell you! I don’t care how cute his buns are, they’re getting smacked next time he digs out under my fence again. Do you have any idea the number of questioning looks you get posting a Lost sign for a hell hound? Good grief. Maybe I should just invest in getting an Invisible Fence and be done with it. Hm, as far as shenanigans go, he’s currently trying to talk me into signing up for boxing lessons at the gym. Probably because it’s a convenient excuse for him to hang around and ogle women in skimpy bra tops and shorts. We shall see what insanity brews with this endeavor.

SI: Boxing lessons? Is that a bit dangerous? Or maybe he’s trying to convince you to write a boxing hero story? Could be worse, he could’ve talked you into trying MMA!

  1. What is your ideal unwinding day after finishing a story? Do you just veg out or get cracking on a new story ASAP?


JR: Usually an 18 hour nap sounds fantastic after wrapping up a story. Sadly, this rarely gets to happen. Instead I usually spend a few hours going over the million emails I’ve been neglecting during deadline. Once that’s out of the way, I’ll usually reread the story yet again because I’m obsessive that way. Once it’s deemed acceptable, I’ll shoot it over to my editor, and then immediately read the book again, whereas I find five typos and at least two unfortunate instances of using “balling” rather than “bawling”. Every. Frickin. Time.


Lately I’ve been working on back to back deadlines, so usually that means jumping right into the next book that’s due. This is actually good though, because I can rarely make my muse sit on an idea for more than a few days anyway.


SI: Don’t worry, I get taut and taunt mixed up. Ugh. Stupid n! That’s awesome, my muse is a scattershot, she’s all over the place with ideas.


  1. What stories can we look forward from you that will go on our auto-buy list?


JR: Well, my next release is Three Ways to Wicked. It’s the first in a brand spanking new series, and features a scorching M/M/F romance between friends. One of which happens to be one of those gloriously dirty mouthed heroes I’m so fond of. Then sometime next year we’ll see Triple Knockout hit the cyber shelves. It’s another super smexy M/M/F ménage centered around two boxers and the little sister of their best friend. Forbidden love and men who know a thing or two about ropes. What’s not to love? After that, I’ll be working on the next That Old Black Magic book, as well as a super seekrit project with a certain someone. 😉 LOTS of fun stuff in the pipeline!


SI: So excited!

  1. Please tell everyone where they can find you on the interwebs.


My author website:

Author blog:



Thank You so much for sitting in the Hot Seat. I let the Cabana Men lead Jodi out to the spa. Hopefully they’ll give her some plot bunny worth inspiration.



Something dead this way comes…


That Old Black Magic, Book 1


For ten long years Griffin Trudeau has managed to keep his paws off Jemma Finnegan, best friend and leading star of his kinkiest fantasies. As her appointed cat familiar, indulging those fantasies with the delectable witch is strictly forbidden. But when Jemma shows up at his door with seduction in mind, control goes right out the window.


Too late he realizes making love to Jemma is the trigger that launches a zombie apocalypse.


Jemma’s been dealt a double whammy: she’s just discovered she’s a witch. And Griff has been hiding whiskers and a tail. Oh, and if her life wasn’t crazy enough, a dead voodoo queen needs her blood to raise a legion of zombies.


There’s one plan that might work to increase Jemma’s powers so she can put an end to the looming holocaust. A sexy threesome with Griff and Logan Scott, a werewolf familiar with a history of rubbing Griff’s fur the wrong way. A cat and a wolf playing nice, much less sharing? It’ll take a miracle.

Product Warnings

A witch, tiger and wolf doing naughty things. A dead voodoo queen doing evil things. And zombies doing zombie things. Get your shovels ready.

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“So what’s going on in there?”

Logan propped his elbow against the frame, giving her a close-up view of his barbed-wire tat. Now that she thought about it, the symbolism seemed appropriate. Tangling with the lusty werewolf was bound to leave a few scratches. “Just Clarissa taking care of some coven business. Nothing for you to worry your pretty little head over, darlin’.”

She narrowed her eyes. “That managed to be both evasive and sexist.”

“Damn, and here I wasn’t even tryin’.” He chuckled. Taking advantage of his momentary distraction, she reached around him for the doorknob. He scooted sideways, forcing her hand to smack into his abdomen instead. His bare, firm-as-marble abdomen. Her fingertips brushed the warm hollow of skin resting just above the low rise of his button fly. Sucking in a sharp breath, she yanked her arm away and shuffled back several steps.

“Don’t stop now. Things were just getting interesting.”

“I, uh, just have to go and…um…yeah.” She spun and stumbled in the direction of the kitchen before she did something really stupid, like follow the silky trail of hair disappearing beneath the waistband of Logan’s jeans. With her tongue. That thought sent her tripping through the entry of the kitchen. She jerked to a halt when she spotted Griff in front of the stove, stirring the contents of a large stockpot. He was notably shirtless too, which put the mouthwatering expanse of his back on dazzling display. She stared at the muscles shifting beneath all that golden, velvety skin, her suspicions bubbling. It was too damn weird and convenient that both Logan and Griff were standing around half naked all of a sudden. Unless some devious shirt monster was making its rounds in the neighborhood, there was definitely something afoot.

And where was everyone else, anyway? She craned her neck, scoping the dining alcove for signs of Ms. Peach or Gloria.

“Hey, baby. You’re just in time for a taste test.”

She whipped her head around at Griff’s zippy tone. Now she knew something was up. Griff didn’t do chipper, particularly not thirty minutes after snarling at her like a pissed-off Tony the Tiger. “What the hell is going on?”

Griff tried for a guileless look. Oh yeah, he didn’t do innocent well either. “I’m getting lunch ready.”

“Without your shirt on?”

“It’s hot in here.”

Well…that was certainly true. Even without Griff’s muscle-icious torso making her girl parts all warm and tingly, there was no denying the temperature in the kitchen hovered between muggy and melt-your-panties-off miserable.

Griff dug a spoon out of the drawer and ladled some of the sauce he’d been stirring. “Tell me if this needs anything.”

Her intuition warning her to be on the lookout for any sneakiness, she hesitantly crossed to the industrial-sized, stainless-steel stove. She tried to wrestle the spoon from Griff, but he insisted on feeding her the concoction himself. Almost from the instant the tapestry of flavors met her tongue, a seductive ripple of heat unfurled inside her, tightening her nipples beneath the sundress’s snug, smocked bodice. Griff’s thumb traced the outline of her lower lip. Holding her gaze, he lifted his finger and slowly licked it clean. If the humidity didn’t melt the crotch of her panties, Griff demonstrating his perfect oral skills sure as hell would.

“What do you think? A pinch more salt and pepper?”

She stared into Griff’s dark-as-sin pupils. Clearly he was waiting for her to answer, but damn if she could concentrate on anything beyond the flush of arousal making her dizzy with hunger. Only it wasn’t food she was lusting for at the moment. Knees wobbling, she clutched the counter. “W—what’s in that sauce?”

“Butter, egg, milk. The usual Béchamel ingredients.”

Sure, and a liberal dash of horny goat weed and Viagra thrown in for good measure. She had no idea why Griff was trying to get her juiced up for sex. He knew damn well that all he had to do was breathe and she’d gladly tackle him to the floor and ride him until they were both properly yippee-ki-yayed out. Which left only one possibility.

He was about to spring some hellaciously scary sexual request on her. If a midget and a monkey strolled in right now, she was so out of th—

“Looks like the party is revving into high gear.” Logan ambled into the kitchen, his expression wicked and wolfish.

Her focus shifted between the two gorgeous specimens of male flesh on decadent display, and the puzzle pieces began locking together. Oh, sweet Jesus. Her heart frantically tap dancing, she snatched the embroidered dishtowel resting on the counter and blotted her perspiring forehead. Either the heat and the sauce were getting to her, or Griff and Logan. More than likely, all four.

She shot Griff an accusing glare. “Now I get it. You think the three of us having sex will fix everything, and I won’t have to worry about Nettie luring me to the dark side. Did it even occur to you to give me a say in this decision?”

Griff thunked the spoon on the stovetop before giving her his full attention. “Christ, do you honestly think you wouldn’t get a say? Damn it, you know I’d never force you into doing anything you don’t want.”

She plunked one hand on her hip and waved the other hand at the stockpot. “But you weren’t averse to a little cheating, courtesy of your pasta à la sex sauce.”

“I just wanted you to feel more comfortable. Relaxed.”

“Turned on,” she added, arching a brow.

A guilty flush spread from Griff’s jaw to his cheeks. Chuffing a laugh, Logan joined them at the stove. “Catman had good intentions, sugar. The potion in the sauce is designed to loosen inhibitions and supersensitize erogenous zones you didn’t even know you had.” He flicked a glance in Griff’s direction. “Maybe you better give her a demonstration.”

She snorted. “Trust me, he already did.”

Logan’s mouth curled in wicked devilment. “You only got a small taste of the potion’s capabilities. To truly appreciate its gift to the fullest, you need to ingest it in a more…intimate manner.” Before she knew what he was up to, Logan unlaced the ties securing the sundress to her shoulders and pushed the bodice down, exposing her breasts. Gasping, she shot him a startled look. He awarded her a crooked smile. “Don’t worry, you’re gonna enjoy this.”

Something warm and sticky stroked her nipples. She jumped at the unexpected sensation, her gaze shooting to Griff’s sauce-coated fingers as they painted her areolas with the creamy substance. He lowered his head and followed the path of his fingers with his tongue, sparking a new conflagration of fire inside her. She shivered and Griff peered up at her, his eyes blazing. Curving an arm around her waist, he stood and claimed her mouth in a hot, devouring kiss. He tasted of Béchamel and exotic spice. Of magic and sex. She wrapped her fingers in his hair, tugging him closer, ravenous for more. Their tongues rasped in a mating dance and she wiggled against him, her nipples aching for the sumptuous devotion of Griff’s mouth.

Logan’s knuckles skated the length of her spine. “Noticing the effects yet?” She mewled a response and he chuckled. “Excellent.” He worked the dress over her hips and the garment floated to her feet. His feather-light touch skimmed above the elastic of her bikini, teasing the dimples near her tailbone. She arched against Logan’s hand, her knees turning to jelly when he palmed her ass and gave it a good squeeze. He snuggled close behind her, so close she easily detected the hard ridge of his erection suggestively rubbing into her. “I’ve got something for ya, darlin’.”

Oh yeah. No mistaking that.

Griff’s mouth trailed to the crook of her neck, and something soft and silky caressed her cheek. She reached for the fabric, but Logan swept it behind her head.

“Not yet. First I want something in return.”

She licked her lips, a hot liquid rush of excitement pulsing low in her belly. “What?”

“A taste.” Logan’s teeth scraped her earlobe, making her breath stutter. He moved lower and tongued the pulse point beneath her ear. “Same as you gave Catman.”

A whimper escaped her and Logan tilted her head, his fingers tunneling in her hair as his lips glided along hers. Sucking her tongue into his mouth, he gave her a sneak peek at the devastation he could wreak on her body. If she let him. The question was, would she?

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Get Introduced to Jodi Redford (If you haven’t already)

First of all, a big thanks and squishy hug to the awesometastic Selena Illyria for inviting me to come hang on her turf today so I can share a bit about my upcoming release, Lover Enraptured. For those who aren’t familiar with my Thieves of Aurion series, this is the second book, and it follows the complex, spark-filled relationship between fae thief, Jerrick Hunter, and his mentee and ex-partner, Avily Donahoe. Although Jerr and Avi were secondary characters in the first book, Lover Enslaved, they made it clear from the start that their story wouldn’t stay on the backburner. There’s big time unresolved issues between these two. And if there’s anything I love to write, it’s characters who create some serious friction—in more ways than one!


Looks like someone’s knees are going to get a workout.

Thieves of Aurion, Book 2

Avily Donahoe has dated way too many losers trying to get over Jerrick Hunter, the man who taught her everything about the life of crime she left behind. Now he has the balls to show up and ask her to pose as his sub, complete with skimpy leather outfit, to get inside a no-faes-allowed sex club?

Oh, hell no. If anyone’s going to be wearing next to nothing, it’s going to be Jerrick…as her bitch.

Five years ago, Jerrick realized the lonely kid he’d taken under his wing had grown into a tempting, desirable woman—and he’d cut her loose. If gaining her help now means hitting his knees with a leash and a collar, so be it.

But soon their front escalates into an all-too-real erotic game where the prize is the one thing that tantalizes him beyond reason. Their hearts aren’t the only thing they’ll lose if they fail. It could mean the end of everything—and everyone—they know and love.

Warning: This book contains male groveling, the occasional blindfold and feather tickler, wicked sex magic, and a fae thief who isn’t afraid to wear ass-less chaps when the job calls for it.


Jerrick was starting to come to the conclusion that the smaller the package, the more potential for testing his patience. Despite being half his size, Avi possessed the ability to drive him to the limits of his sanity.

After their showdown in the bathroom, she’d calmly ordered him into the kitchen—where he was currently making her a salad while she kicked back on the sofa. She was taking this whole getting-into-character to an exasperating extreme. He knew she was doing it to prove a point, and he even understood why.

What she didn’t understand was the dangerous fire she was meddling with.

There was a reason he desperately needed to be the one holding the reins in this charade, and it had nothing to do with some farfetched notion of refusing to kowtow to a woman’s demands. As long as he remained in control of himself, everything would be okay. He could treat this job like any other and stay cool and professional in the process. But with Avi pushing him and stripping his defenses, what hope did he hold of resisting the potent pull of her?

He had to. Giving in was not an option. Popping a cheese cube into his mouth, he squinted at her profile. “It’s bloody cold in here. Can I put my damn shirt back on?”

“The lower temp is good for your metabolism. We wouldn’t want you developing a spare tire around your gut.”

“I appreciate your concern for my health.” Somehow or other, he’d find a way to get her back for this. “What else do you want in your salad?”

“Maybe a few slices of the Nahimi melon.”

He opened her cooler and inspected the contents of the crisper bin. “Looks like you already polished it off.”

“Well shoot.”

He waited for her to demand he drag his ass down to the grocer. Or perhaps produce some magical seeds and till her a garden so she could have her blasted fruit.

“Guess you’ll have to skip adding it. Chop up the rest of the cooked hen on the second shelf and toss it in instead. I need my protein, you know.”

Undoubtedly so she could keep her lungs nice and strong for bossing him around.

A minute later, meal completed to her exacting standards, he carried it to the sofa. She patted the cushion next to her. Before he even sat down he knew what her next request would be.

“You can feed it to me.”

Biting back a growl, he speared a serving of the greens and crispy poultry with the fork and held it to her mouth. Her lips closed around the metal tines with an mmm of pleasure that wrapped around his cock and refused to let go. Yes, she definitely drove him insane. In more ways than one. He battled the potent desire to suck the remaining few speckles of dressing from her berry-vinaigrette-glossed lips.

“Does it meet your approval, my precious?” His voice sounded strained and gruff to his own ears.

Her smile was as sweetly delivered as his endearment. “Color me impressed. Didn’t know you had it in you to cook. You’ve always avoided any domestic activity like it’s a fate worse than death.”

Damn sassy woman. Even if she was right. “It’s a salad. Not much cooking involved.”

She surprised him by snatching the fork from his grip. At bloody last, she was putting this ridiculous dominatrix stuff to bed for the night.

Truthfully, her roleplaying wasn’t the only thing wreaking havoc on his tightly strung patience. Sitting next to her and not running his hands all over her silky skin was killing him. Their brief contact in the bathroom only added kindling to the fire crackling between them. If he wasn’t careful, he stood a good chance of getting burned.

He needed to remove himself from temptation. Now. Desperately clutching the frayed strands of his willpower, he started to shove up from the cushion.

Avi stalled him with her hand on his thigh. His entire world narrowed to the distracting pressure of her splayed fingers. He didn’t immediately notice the fork waving inches from his face. “Wha—?”

She shoved the greens into his mouth, effectively shutting him up. He chewed the offering, his wary focus never leaving her face. She scooted closer and tucked her legs over his lap. A rush of familiarity swept over him. How many times had she curled into him like this? Too many to count. And just like those other occasions when he’d sweated through her need to cuddle, he questioned his ability to keep his hands safely out of the danger zone.

Popping another savory morsel of poultry into his mouth, she looked him square in the eye, her own twinkling with a devilment that put him on high alert. “Put your hand on my leg.”

He returned her stare for a long moment, attempting to decipher if this was part of her cover or something else. Something that’d ultimately prove a far tougher test to his control.

“Don’t make me punish you for your disobedience, Jer.”

The mock sternness in her tone did funny things to his gut. Or maybe the sudden stiffening of his cock had something to do with the lazy swirl of her fingertip along his abdomen. Hard to tell.

Extra emphasis on hard.

If he was smart, he would have called an end to their training right there and packed it in for the night, but apparently his intelligence had migrated south for the winter. “What punishment are you intending to dish out?”

“Well…” She set aside the forgotten plate of salad and straddled his lap. Her fingers drifted along the delicate swells of her hips, the soft scritch of her nails raking the supple leather providing an erotic soundtrack. “If you won’t touch me, maybe I should make you watch me do it.”

Surely she didn’t mean that the way it sounded. “Avi—”

She pressed a fingertip to his mouth. “No, you had your chance. Now you’re going to pay the price.”

Oh, he held no doubt of that. Particularly when her hands ghosted upward, tracing her rib cage and higher still to the fullness of her breasts. She rolled the pads of her fingers over her nipples, mimicking the motions he’d used earlier in the bathroom. His lungs suddenly felt equally as constricted as his damn briefs.

She licked her lips, the sultry haze of desire in her eyes nearly doing him in. “Did you like touching me? Do you wish you could do it right now? Would you caress my breasts, or maybe slide your hand up under my skirt and find out how wet I am?”

Sweet goddess. He hissed a breath between his teeth. “Don’t play this dangerous game with me.”

“Why? Worried I’ll crack through that legendary control of yours?” One palm swept lower and hovered temptingly near her mound.

Sweat broke out on his forehead. He’d never been more grateful for the hindrance of a skirt. Ironic, considering he usually cursed them to hell and back for slowing his seduction progress.

The heated glimmer in her eyes making him infinitely nervous and aroused, Avi lifted onto her knees and tiptoed her fingers along the creamy-smooth expanse of her thighs. Hypnotized, he watched the slow crawl of her hemline ascending toward her hips. The black lace triangle of her panties popped into view, and his shaky exhalation snuck loose before he could rope it into submission. Damn. He was a fucking sucker for sexy underthings.

Then again, he was a fucking sucker when it came to Avi. Period.

“Do you like what you see?” She leaned forward until her lips grazed his earlobe. “Or should I give you something even better to watch?”

His brain screamed one answer while his cock piped in with an entirely different response. Not trusting the words that might jog loose of his mouth, he swallowed hard. This close, he could smell the sweet heat of her. Beneath the luscious floral essence, he easily detected the feminine musk of her arousal. It was driving him out of his mind. He longed to hike her up into his arms and bury his head between her legs, fill his nose with the heady intoxication of her pussy, right before he filled her with his tongue.

She leaned back, awarding him some room to enjoy the show. He knew he was in some serious trouble the instant she hesitantly stroked over the fabric covering her crotch. She was soaked. The slick, succulent sound taunting him verified it. No need for him to see or feel her wet, velvety flesh firsthand.

But he wanted to.

Dear gods, how he wanted to.

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