Posts Tagged ‘13 Days of Halloween’
First I’d like to thank the authors and publishers who participated. I truly appreciate. Maybe we could do something like this next year with even more prizes. Thank You to all you who read and commented you guys rock!
Etopia Press’ Winner:
Chris Marie Green’s Winner:
Jodi Redford’s Winner:
Missy Welsh’s Winner:
Loose Id’s Winner:
Sindra van Yssel’s Winner:
Qwillia Rain’s Winner:
Renea Mason’s Winner:
Lexxie Couper’s Winner:
Dahlia Rose’s Winner:
Tara Lain’s Winner:
Selena Illyria’s Winner:
Winners please contact at selenaillyria826 AT gmail DOT com. You have until 8th of Nov. to contact me.
Thank you again to everyone for the posts and the comments. Hope you had a safe and fun Halloween.
We know this time of year could offer up the creepy and spooky. But what about the sexy and mysterious? Maybe you need a Ghost or Dragons or maybe a Scottish Werewolf or maybe a Vampire to spice up your holiday?
Maybe Ghosts are your cup of tea?
How about a Ghost to spice up your Halloween? This book went through a few re-writes but in the end I loved William and Alyssa. In the beginning William was an arrogant ass who used people and didn’t really value them. When he meets Alyssa he finds not only new creativity but also love. Will the curse cost him the woman he loves?
Lonely No More
Lonely No More
Excerpt Rating (PG-13): Could She?
Genre: Paranormal, Contemporary
Five years ago on Halloween, author William Moore carelessly broke up with a witch. Needless to say, she didn’t take it well. Cursed to a lonely non-life as a ghost, trapped in his own home, he never expected to do more than exist in the world his ex had created. Except now he’s got a new roommate in the form of fellow author, Alyssa Washington, and he doesn’t anticipate his strong attraction to her. As their simmering emotion sparks life within, he yearns to become mortal once again.
Can his newfound feelings give him what he wishes for most?
I curse you, William Moore. By the moon and the stars. By the elements of life. Your body shall know the meaning of emptiness. Your soul shall be tied to these walls. You will hunger and thirst for nothing. Here on this land you shall remain until you know the meaning of love.” Irena hissed again. “I curse you, William Moore, for your insensitivity, your callousness and inconsideration. You will be tied to this house, never to leave it as you so clearly wish not to. I curse you, William Moore, until you find true love.”
Fire blazed through William’s body. His back bowed and his mouth opened on a silent scream. He writhed on the bed while Irena’s magic burst through him. His bones were melting, muscles being stretched taut. His heart was threatening to beat out of his chest, and pain shot through his brain, almost as if it was about to explode. He couldn’t think, breathe or move. Time passed lazily, yet swiftly at the same time. Squeezing his eyes shut, he prayed to whatever gods would listen, pleading with them to make it all stop.
Finally the fire ceased and a burst of cold shot through him. Shivering and weak, he eased his body back onto the mattress. He opened his eyes. At first the room seemed bleary, but after a moment his vision began to clear. The room appeared the same. The soft red-orange glow of the fire danced on the ceiling, the lingering scent of sex and perfume hung in the air. Turning his head slowly, ignoring the pain, he saw that the furniture looked the same–at least the items in his vision were.
He hissed when he felt the muscles in his legs jump. His stomach flipped and he moaned. He slid his arms around his abdomen and rolled over, groaning as he went. Pain wracked his body as his head began to pound again. As his body began to calm down, he rolled onto his back, panting. His eyelids felt heavy as exhaustion took hold. He tried to grasp at consciousness but it eluded him. After what seemed like an eternity of fighting, finally he drifted off to sleep. Night became day and then back to night.
The moon rose high above the trees that surrounded the house. William awoke with a start and, looking around, he tried to place the room he lay in. He had dreamed that he’d been floating over his body and throughout the house. He had watched the day pass, levitating and observing normal life as it rolled on. Now awake, he rolled out of bed, the pain in his body had ceased. He felt solid enough. Rising, he walked over to a set of double doors and undid the latch. Pushing them open, he breathed in the night air. He strode out onto the balcony and surveyed his property. Closing his eyes, he began to move haltingly, controlling his movements and breathing as he started his tai chi exercise. He let the concerns of his life float away.
In the distance he heard the door downstairs open and footsteps pounding their way up the stairs. His assistant’s voice called out to him, “Hey, Will! Willll? I have some papers for you to sign that the publisher needs ASAP.”
The door to his bedroom banged against the wall, followed by a gasp. “Oh, my God!”
The horrified words were followed by loud thuds, thumps and a clatter of something metallic falling on the wooden floor. Frowning, William pivoted and entered the room, his mouth open ready to ask what was wrong, when he saw the reason for Maggie’s shock. There on the bed, lay his naked body. It took him a few seconds to comprehend everything he saw.
Once it had sunk in, he dashed toward Maggie and started shouting at her. “I’m right here! Maggie, I’m right behind you!” He reached out to touch her on the shoulder, and watched in horror as his hand slipped right through her. He held his hand before his face, it seemed solid enough. He tried again, and the same thing happened.
Deciding to deal with that later, he tried talking to her. “Maggie, I’m right here. Maggie.”
She didn’t move, just stood before his bed staring at his naked body.
How about Vampires for Halloween?
Writing Trapped was so much fun. I wanted to write a story where the hero had to pursue the heroine and fight for her, to convince her of his true affections. Rysen and Kit were so much fun to write for and I would love to write for them again. Rysen is such a naughty vampire with a dirty mind.
Excerpt (R), Feeding
Genre: Paranormal, Interracial
Kit has never forgotten the cruel way Rysen rejected her as a possible consort over a hundred years ago. She’s striven to get stronger, pushing her attraction to him down and using her anger as fuel.
Rysen has always regretted the way he rejected Kit. As much as he loved her, Rysen despised the way her clan tried to use her as a political gambit for power and protection. But he never stopped wanting Kit, trying to make her his in every way possible.
When enemies attack, they use old magic to seal themselves off and stay safe. But now they find themselves trapped with a century of hunger rising between them….
Publisher’s Note: This book contains explicit sexual content, graphic language, and situations that some readers may find objectionable: Anal play/intercourse, domination.
“I felt your anger and insecurity. I had to come see for myself.”
She tried to jerk her arm away from his grip, but he refused to let go. “You’re aroused, my darling. You’re aroused by me.”
“Go to hell.” She refused to tell him just how aroused he was making her.
“Been there, got the T-shirt. Do you need help dressing?”
“No, let go of me.”
“So you can sway on your feet and fall over? I think not. Allow me to support you.”
“Pervert. You just want to watch me get dressed.”
“That is quite true. I am a pervert. You bring out the letch in me. I want nothing more than to watch you bend over as you put on your jeans. I want see that sweet ass exposed to my gaze. I long to part those deliciously rounded cheeks, fall to my knees, and lap at your anus until you become aroused, your pussy dripping with need for my cock. I want to tease you until you squirm against me, urging me to fuck you long, hard, and deep. I want you to admit you want my cock up your ass, in your pussy, and in your mouth. So yes, darling, I am a pervert.”
She shivered at his words, each syllable causing her aching channel to clench with need, gushing more cream. Her clit throbbed as her nipples tightened even further.
“I want to watch you put on your tank top. See those delicious nipples of yours pressed against the thin fabric of your shirt. I want to take those nipples in my mouth and suck on them while my fingers sink into your pussy, feel your juices slip over my hand and down my forearm. I want to finger fuck you until you come all over my hand, until the air is heavy and pungent with the scent of your sex.”
The image inflamed her. She wanted what he was saying so badly. Her cunt clenched with need. She felt the beginnings of an orgasm tightening, curling, writhing within her. She tried to control it, stop it, but it only twisted tighter, increasing the ache and fire between her legs.
“After that, I want to throw you against the wall and sink into you, balls deep. I want nothing between us, my darling. I want to feel your pussy spasm around me each time I slam into you. I want your legs wrapped around my waist, my hands holding your wrists up high over your head as I fuck you. I want to sink my fangs into your throat as I pound your pussy. I want to feel you come all over my cock, your cream slipping down my balls, over my thighs, and then I want to come inside you. I want to pump every last drop of my seed into you. I want to fuck you until my scent is rubbed into your skin. Yes, my darling, I am a letch. I am a pervert. For you, I will be all that and so much more. Don’t think for a second that once I have you, I won’t possess you, fuck you in private and in front of everyone. I want everyone to know who you belong to. Everyone.”
Need a Werewolf to have a Howling good Halloween?
Scottish. Kilted. Werewolf. Find out what happens when Iain shows Katherine what’s under his kilt.
Iain just wanted someone to help take the edge off before the full moon rose in a few days. When he met Katherine in the pub he felt he had found the perfect person to help him with his problem.
Katherine could not resist the kilted stranger who caught her eye at the bar. When he offered her a night of hot sex she couldn’t say no.
But what happens when she finds out that the stranger is her boss’s son?
The barman came over, smiling at her. “Another one for the road, lass?”
“Nope, I’m done for the day. How much –” She was stopped when he held up his hand.
“Already taken care of, love.” He nodded his head toward the man at her side. She rolled her eyes and sighed. Turning on her stool, she looked at him. His smile said it all. He thought he was going to get rewarded for his thoughtfulness. Not tonight, pal, she thought.
“I’m not going to sleep with you, give you a blow job or a hand job just because you bought me a drink. It was your money you wasted. Now if you’ll excuse me, thank you and good night.” She turned all the way around and hopped off the stool, hating the fact that she was only five foot three inches, and she had to jump down. Her booted heels clunked on the old wooden floor.
She just made it beyond the threshold when she felt a hand wrap around her wrist and jerk her back. Her spine hit the wall and two hands framed her head. His face was a contrast to the darkness of the entryway. “First, I never asked you to pay me back. Nor did I ask you to sleep with me, or give me a blow job or a hand job. I’d have loved for you to offer, but I didn’t ask. So don’t assume you know anything about me just because I buy you a drink.”
She was speechless.
“I did kiss you, not because of the drink, but because I wanted to, and besides, you were staring at my kilt. You were wondering if it’s true what they say, weren’t you? I can tell you with great certainty that it’s all true,” he murmured as his lips brushed hers.
Maybe two Dragons are what you need to fire up your holiday?
I wanted to write a story for the fantasy mentioned in Dragon Ugly. I didn’t have time or room to write it but I knew that Brent would want to fulfill his mate Carissa’s desire to have sexy in a bookstore. I loved revisiting this couple and I can’t wait to write Fletch’s story. I even know his heroine and his story.
Excerpt Rating (PG-13),
Series: Halloween Heat II: Dragons at Samhain
Genre: Paranormal, Interracial, Ménage
It’s Samhain and Brent wants to fulfill Carissa’s fantasy of sex in a bookshop while it’s open. With help from Fletch he’s going to make it a hot, steamy night she’ll never forget.
Carissa only wanted to spend more time with her mate she didn’t know what to expect when they arrived in the mountains to visit his parents. After dressing her as a French maid, him as Highway man and their friend Fletch as Zorro, she’s pretty sure that he’s taken her fantasy to a whole new level.
Samhain has always been a magical time, now it’s about to get a whole lot hotter.
Author Note: This story comes after Dragon Ugly!
Carissa’s heart thudded against her ribcage as she allowed Brent to guide her past the shops declaring Halloween and Samhain sales and discounts. Children dressed up in various costumes rushed past them, chased by harried parents. None of that really registered. Brent’s solid, roughened palm against hers, the heat rolling off his body in waves, the aura of sexual determination and arousal coming from him wrapped around her. Her own desire pulsed between her thighs; her nipples tightened and ached for his touch. He’d dressed her tonight in a sleeveless French maid costume with crotchless panties and no bra. Cool night air brushed against her overheated sex, teasing her throbbing clit.
Fletch trailed behind them in a Zorro costume, complete with cape and mask. Brent had decided that the Highwayman costume was more to his liking, complete with a cape and mask of his own. Both men looked dashing and dangerous. A thrill raced down her spine as she glanced back at Fletch, who’d decided to go the scruffy route with a bit a coppery colored beard on his jaw. Brent’s darker five o’clock shadow made him look just as fierce. He had insisted that during the fantasy her wrists would be bound behind her back and she would be blindfolded so she wouldn’t know who was doing what. Carissa hadn’t thought that far for her fantasy, all she’d known was she wanted to fuck in a bookstore. Brent had taken it to a whole new level.
She’d even overheard them talking of using nipple clamps to help increase her pleasure. None of that mattered as much as being with the man she loved, her mate. Her wolf was just happy for a change in scenery. At the end of the night, when the clock struck Midnight, they would all shift, Brent and Fletch into dragons and Carissa into a wolf. According to Brent’s parents, it was a way to welcome Samhain in your purest form. New place to explore, and a new experience to add to the ones that Brent had brought into her once boring life.
They continued on down the block, passing more kids and parents and dodging late night drunks who were leaning on each other for support as they walked down the sidewalk. The air was filled with softness and anticipation, as if the world was holding its breath for the Witch’s New Year, when the veil between man and the dead was the thinnest. Or in this case, when the veil between mortals and the paranormal blended together to become one.
Tension shivered along her muscles as her arousal and excitement blended together. She hid her eagerness to act out this fantasy and move on to the next. Brent led the way, and she rushed to catch up with him.
“Whoa there, lover,” Carissa called out. “We have time, there’s no rush.”
Maybe a bit of Mystery is more your speed?
My last offering is from the Draven’s Crossing series. This book ties up the serial killer storyline started in Tempestuous Crossings and starts something new. I really enjoyed writing the ins and outs and trying to figure out how to lay out the mystery part of the book. Here’s a snippet.
Out Now at Purple Sword Publications
Draven’s Crossing: Hidden Diversions
With so many distractions, can they catch a killer before someone else dies?
Their passion may be the death of them…
Werewolf Chief of Police, Torger, is running into walls while tracking the Draven’s Crossing serial killer. No matter what he tries to do, he can’t find the clues needed to stop the terror that stalks the streets of his city. Things aren’t helped by his attraction to dragon shifter, Draven City News Reporter, Isadora Jones. With political pressure and bodies mounting, can he get through all these distractions to the truth before it’s too late?
Reporter, Isadora Jones wants to help with the investigation into the serial killer but Torger refuses to let her. She decides to do it on her own, but her world goes upside down when the killer sets his sights on her. Under Torger’s protection, they start to put the pieces together but will it be too late for them?
Things go from bad to worse when another killer appears. Draven’s Crossing just got a whole lot more dangerous.
Purple Sword Publications:
The sweetest perfume drifted under his door. He snorted and sat up. She was near. His eyes had already adjusted to the darkness. He saw a shadow move in front of his door but it didn’t go to the guest room across the hall. He waited; the seconds ticked by. Each moment like a drip of water on his face, it seemed to last forever and there was no end in sight. He swallowed. His lips became dry as his heartbeat sped up. The jangle of a hand on the door handle rang in his ears. The delicate shells prickled at the musical sound. He waited. His heart stuttered and then crashed against his ribcage in a heavy drum beat. His body heat spiked as his wolf waited. Need coiled in the pit of his stomach. He licked his lips again, hoping, praying for what, he didn’t know. All he saw was that if she didn’t do something soon, he would. And then there would be no turning back. Everything would change for them, and he wasn’t sure how everyone would react or how everything would land.
As the seconds ticked by, her shadow remained at the door. The hand had stopped jiggling. Opening up his senses, he allowed her emotions to wash over him. He tasted the tang of hesitation with the sweetness of eagerness. All of it was tinged with the bright spice of lust. Underneath it all, there was Isy’s own unique natural scent. Not wanting to let the torture for both of them continue, he called out, “Isy, you can come in.”
Purple Sword Publications:
Contest Time: Comment with your favorite paranormal creatures and be entered to win a print copy of Demon Heat with two stories one from myself and one from the awesome Milly Taiden. As well as a copy of Dragon Ugly! Good Luck!
Hi everyone! Happy almost Halloween. I’m Tara Lain and I write the Beautiful Boys of Romance. Thanks so much to Selena for inviting me to share in the 13 Days of Halloween.
When I was a kid, Halloween was almost bigger than Christmas as a favorite holiday. I’m an Army brat and we lived all over the world on Army bases and posts. Whether we were in Japan or New Jersey, Austria or Long Beach, all the kids united over Halloween. Army housing is in rows or courts, all identical, and in those days, walkable and safe. We’d take huge bags, sometimes pillowcases, and head out in our costumes. Running from house to house, we’d sometimes be lined up eight and ten deep at the doors. Trick or Treat! We loved the houses where the moms made popcorn balls held together with marshmallow, but you had to eat them quick or their plastic wrap cover would come off and get all the other candy sticky. People who gave whole candy bars became the names repeated on the kid grapevine, and we’d all be sure to show up there. But my personal favorites were Nickel Nips and candy lips. Yes, I’m showing my age. Those can only be found in retro candy stores now along with Beemans and Blackjack gum. We’d run home and pour our booty out on the dining room table, then head back out with more room in the bags while mom and dad sorted through the goodies they wanted for themselves!
Today, we don’t get much Halloween. We live on a very steep hill with no sidewalks and where the doors of houses are far from the road. It’s a great place to live — but a bad place to Trick or Treat. We frequently get no visitors with bags at the ready. But that’s okay. It would be tough to ever live up to my childhood memories.
As it happens, I’ve written a Halloween story. It’s called Trex or Treat and it all takes place on and around one very sexy Halloween. It’s in the Halloween Heat IV Anthology. If you’d like to win it, please do two things.
Leave me a comment with your email address sometime before the end of the 13 Days of Halloween
Like my Facebook Page if you haven’t already. www.facebook.com/taralain
And you’re invited to visit my website at any time. We do a lot of fun contests and drawings. Drop by http://www.taralain.com Thanks so much for coming by. : )
Josh Harris doesn’t have time to be gay. A busy college professor and devoted single-dad, Josh tries to be happy with only his son for company. But then Bradley “Trex” Trexler moves in across the street with his step-brother, Bogo, and sets up his house for Halloween. Josh’s son Ernie can’t wait to go, so Josh dresses up like a movie cowboy and saunters over. But at the end of a long, dark hall he meets another sharpshooter — with a bead on Josh. One trip blindfolded into the dark house of horrors changes his view of the world. And the “adult” party Trex has planned in the bounce room puts an end to Josh’s life-as-usual. Maybe this Halloween Josh can have Trex and treats.
Once they got into the room, the door behind them closed with an ominous thud. Kids’ screams came from somewhere in the back of the house. The kind of screams that meant that something awful just happened and it was great. The crystal ball flickered. “Ennnter my housssse of horrrroorrrr.”
Yikes. Something horribly tickly swept the back of Josh’s neck.
A curtain pulled back to reveal a long dimly lit hall. Josh nudged Ernie. “I think we’re supposed to go that way.”
Ernie got the big eyes again. “You wanna?”
“I think we better.”
The walked past the crystal ball that was now smoky and stepped into a hall. Lights came on in front of a mirror. Josh started and Ernie gasped. They both laughed at their own reflections — a lean cowboy and a little super hero. Suddenly a small Darth Vader stepped into the hall. Ernie giggled as the little Darth walked slowly toward him. Ernie stepped out and approached Darth at an equally portentous pace.
Finally, they were nose to nose. Darth reached out and flipped up his visor. “Hey, Ernie. Come on, let me show you the cool decorations in my room.”
Ernie looked back at Josh. “Can I, Dad?”
“Sure. Stay out of trouble.”
The two boys ran out of the hall. Josh looked around. Where should he go now? Back outside?
A voice came from the other end of the hall. “I’m not sure there’s room for two gunslingers in this town.”
Josh looked up. Doc Holliday, aka, Trex, stood at the other end of the hall. Black hat, dark three-piece suit, a gun at his side, and a delicate handkerchief tinged with blood — the clue to the character since Holiday had died of TB. The western garb looked perfect on that tall athletic body. The real Holiday never looked so good. Josh wanted to drool.
Josh smiled, but Trex didn’t break character. His gaze, steady and dangerous, rested on Josh’s face. Okay two can play. Josh scowled like a man who gazed into the sun all day and chewed the stump of cigar in his mouth. He rested a hand on his toy six-shooter. “You want to try me?” The words were out. Crap, what did he just say?
Trex/Holiday sauntered toward him, spurs jingling. He came face to face with Josh and cracked a hint of a smile. “Show me what you got.”
“Uh, oh I…”
Trex reached up and took the unlit stogy. Then he slipped a hand around Josh’s neck and pressed a hot mouth over Josh’s lips with a hint of warm tongue. Holy crap. Their hats bumped and Josh’s fell backwards. He grabbed for it, their teeth knocked together, their noses squashed and Trex pulled back laughing. “I guess we know that cowboys didn’t spontaneously seduce each other. Too much shit to get in the way.”
Josh knew his eyes were wide and he was having trouble keeping his breath even. “Doing a little cowboy experimentation, are we?” He reached down and grabbed his hat from the floor and put it back on.
Trex waved a hand down Josh’s body. “Hey, you come in looking that great, you gotta expect some admiration.”
“Dad! Dad!” A small human missile flew into the hall. Thank God Ernie hadn’t arrived a moment sooner. The boy stopped. “You gotta come see me bob for apples and shit.”
“Okay, be right there.” Ernie ran back toward who knows where. Josh looked at Trex. “I think I’ve been summoned. Where are they bobbing and shit?”
Trex laughed. The low chuckle tingled in Josh’s cock. The guy was too sexy. “Follow me.” He put a guiding hand on Josh’s shoulder which was enough distraction to make Josh stumble. The heat of Trex’s lips lingered despite the awkwardness of the kiss.
Josh nodded toward Trex’s costume as they walked. “What made you decide on Holiday?”
“I didn’t think you’d miss my subtle clue.” Trex flashed the handkerchief. “Doc may have loved Big Nosed Kate, but I’ve always found his devotion to Wyatt to have gone a bit beyond the call of duty. And you decided the Man with No Name was gay?”
“Maybe he had so little to say to all those outlaws because he really wanted to discuss china patterns.”
Author blog: http://www.taralain.com/blog
Tara Lain writes the Beautiful Boys of Romance in LGBT erotic romance novels that star her unique, charismatic heroes. Her first novel was published in January of 2011 and she’s now somewhere around book 23. Her best-selling novels have garnered awards for Best Series, Best Contemporary Romance, Best Ménage, Best LGBT Romance, Best Gay Characters, and Tara has been named Best Writer of the Year in the LRC Awards. In her other job, Tara owns an advertising and public relations firm. She often does workshops on both author promotion and writing craft. She lives with her soul-mate husband and her soul-mate dog in Laguna Beach, California, a pretty seaside town where she sets a lot of her books. Passionate about diversity, justice, and new experiences, Tara says on her tombstone it will say “Yes”!
Hot Seat Interview Dahlia Rose
13 Days of Halloween Edition
I set up the Hot Seat and place plates of mini cheesecake petit fours in different flavors on the side tables along with a large mug of coffee and carafe of java just in case. Once everything is perfect I instruct the Military Cabana Men to escort Dahlia into the room. As soon as she get settled and the spotlight is on I get to the questions.
First off I have to say Happy Birthday! It must be awesome having your birthday and your favorite Holiday, Halloween, all in one month.
DR: Thank you! I like the whole Military Cabana Men thing you’ve got going on and the treats. Now if you find a Stonebridge look alike I’m never leaving. LOL. I love my birthday and Halloween in general. It feeds the dark side of my Scorpio nature. I spend all year planning for October, the month of debauchery, as I like to call it.
SI: Stonebridge, purrrrr. *shakes head* What were we talking about again? Right, October, Birthday, Halloween.
Besides cheesecake and world peace what do you want for your birthday?
DR: Well besides those, I usually want kindle, nook or I-tunes cards. In fact I just ask for gift cards in general, I’m really hard to shop for. People don’t really understand my taste in clothes (I’ve been known to wear tutus just because) LOL. My style matches my moods I believe, so, family and friends usually give me cards and I get to pick out what I want. That way we’re all happy.
SI: I love that! I ask for GC too. It’s much easier because it’s like giving money only it’s to your favorite store.
Now you write some seriously HOT romance with some sexy Heroes where do you get your inspiration from? What does it take to make Dahlia’s list of Hotness?
DR: My inspiration is mostly military or law enforcement. I like alpha males, guys who will pin your arms above your head and kiss the hell out of you. It’s like that song by Bonnie Tyler “I Need A Hero. He’s gotta be strong. He’s gotta be fast and he’s gotta be fresh from the fight. “ That’s how I see my heroes the type of guy that will fight for you and love you hard. The guy that will take your temper and then say I still love you and you cannot control our relationship, It’s fifty-fifty. I write really strong heroine because I don’t think there is such a thing as a weak woman. In a crunch we can come out on top and if you can’t it’s weakness of will. But even so it takes a strong man to deal with a strong woman so I always hear I need a hero when writing. A sexy defined abs, great thighs hero. LOL
SI: Like Stonbridge? Oh yeah. *grin* Excellent point. Also, now I have that song stuck in my head.
Since it’s Halloween what is on your Must Watch List? What TV Shows and Movies should people have at the ready along with the popcorn and candy? Other than Sharknado and RoboCroc.
DR: You can never go wrong with Halloween with Mike Myers for the season of scary. While I love Sharknado and those movies for the sheer carnage. If you want to be scared watch my all time favorite movie IT with the scary clown. I’m not about the gore factor in my Halloween movies, I want to be scared and to think “Could this really happen?” World War Z will do that and Dawn of the Dead. There’s also The Haunting, A Haunting in Connecticut and Any of the Ridley Scott Alien series. The list could go on but I think you can pick up any of these and get the scare factor.
SI: No! No! No! *covers eyes and starts to cry* No IT! NO! Weirdly enough I can take watching the Alien series and not be scared. *shivers, sips some coffee* Can’t go to sleep. The clown will get me.
How would you describe your perfect Halloween? And what Halloween paranormal creature would you say is the Ultimate Halloween Hero?
DR: My Halloween is in two parts. Each year we do the Halloween fest uptown where hubster, the friends and me can get costumed up and dance the night away. We find a theme and go with it, it’s like my birthday party except with people we don’t know. LOL.. Halloween night its me at home, I bake themed cupcakes and treats and we also get costumed for the night. Hubby takes the younger kids trick or treating while I stay home and man the three cauldrons full of candy. People come over, eat or just hang out and take pictures around the house. So it’s a fun time.
Ultimate Halloween Hero… You’ll think I’m crazy but I don’t really have one. I kinda like the evil guys on Halloween. I root for Mike Myers to kill everyone. Seriously who would stay in a town where you know a crazy killer who can’t die comes back every year. That’s PTSD right there. And how do the kids whose half naked saying “Johnny quit playing” don’t know ‘hey that’s not Johnny and run away from the exit. Don’t get me on that tangent. LOL I root for the evil killers on Halloween.
SI: Sounds like a good time! Mmmm, cupcakes. You and I are in total agreement. Those kids and their stupidity. *shakes head* All the screaming, can’t stop talking, running in heels stupidity. *grabs a plate of cheesecake and takes a bit to calm down*
You’ve been kidnapped by Dragon Shifter Military Men who are at war with Werewolves and Feline Shifters. Who would win? Or How would you try to broker a peace between them?
DR: Wow, you just floored me with this one and I have to think. First off my Military Dragon Shifter clan will win, fire trumps everything and those bad boys can breathe fire (Damn Military Dragon Shifter unit plot bunny!) But I’d broker peace probably by me being the mate of the head of each clan. LOL see how I stuck myself in a ménage there? Who would say no? Not me!!
SI: *snicker* Plot bunny? Did I give you a plot bunny? You’re very clever Dahlia. Very clever. *nods* Nice solution. We like.
I know you’re a Whovian. What is it about Doctor Who that makes you say, YES! That’s what I’m talking about? Who’s your Doctor and if the TARDIS appeared on your front lawn and The Doctor gave you a free pass to anywhere in time and space where would you go?
DR: I watched Dr. Who all my life and it just makes you think. Each incarnation of the doctor comes with a whole new personality but with the memories of all the rest. It’s a complicated mind that knows he is immortal could leave earth to fend for itself. Yet, he defends it and finds comrades in our ranks to travel with. Each episode he is faced with a dilemma. The fact that none of them know how deadly he can really be and how hard it is for him to open up about anything draws me. You see the internal struggle as much as the outward battle. I’m in love with Stephan Moffet’s mind and The Doctor’s as well.
Now if the TARDIS landed on my front lawn, (oh please, please please!) I’d go to a Weeping Angel planet.. I love those things!! Then I’d go forward in time to see my kids all grown up and their kids etc., to see how their lives were shaped. I’d be blessed to know that what I taught them helped shaped their future and without me they will be ok. But since I plan to be around until I’m 110, God willing. I’ll see a lot of that anyway.
SI: A Weeping Angel planet? But…but…Can’t blink, don’t blink, can’t blink, don’t blink, what was that?
What is one Guilty Pleasure that Dahlia Rose is willing to admit to? It’s just us and well, the Cabana Men, but they won’t talk.
DR: I have many guilty pleasures *snicker* One I’m willing to admit too…. Hmmmmm. Ok I get bored and think of ways to prank my kids and Husband, regularly. I also talk out these plans with the posters in my office. (Do Not Judge my crazy LOL)
SI: Crazy can’t judge crazy.
Back to business. What can you tell us about your upcoming or latest release? What sizzling new story do we have to put on our must buy list if we haven’t already gotten it?
DR: Ok so far SWAT Chronicles “Wicked” was released last month and it had great reviews Book 2 One Tough Cop is coming in October. Also Billionaires and Baby Rattles a twin billionaire’s book written with Tressie Lockwood will be released October 18th. Tempest The Wolf that is book four of my Cajun Mate series will be in November and Seal it with a Kiss and a few other Christmas themed books in December. It’s a lot so my sleep time has been cut until I complete my WIP schedule. I am also working on “Still The One” Etopia Press.
SI: WOW! So much awesomeness. *Gives Dahlia more coffee and cheesecake*
Thank You so much for wanting to do a Hot Seat Interview. Wasn’t so bad was it? Please tell the readers where they can find you on the internet (Website, FB, Twitter, etc).
Find me at….
www.facebook.com/fansofdahliarose (This is my fan page and a contest is going on as we speak.)
DR: Thanks for having me and I’d like to take at least two cabana boys home ?
SI: Of course, just return them after Halloween, we’ll need all the help we can get to clean up.
Once the interview is over I have the Cabana Men escort Dahlia out of the room, of course bringing the cheesecakes and coffee with them. Wouldn’t want the Dahlia Coffee-Less Monster to be unleashed in the world.
SWAT Chronicles Book 2 “One Tough Cop”
Maxwell Kincaid worked in the NYPD long enough that most things didn’t surprise him anymore. The detective who preferred to work alone admitted to himself long ago that he was jaded. So when he was called out to a hostage situation at a Women’s Shelter in the middle of the night. To him it was another job that kept him out of his warm bed. Until he heard the sobs behind the maniacal screaming of the hostage taker and the woman begging for help pleading for the life of her unborn child. It struck a cord in him and Max was determined to save everyone, to save her. In the midst of the chaos after storming the house Max ended delivering the baby of Nicole Henry. From the time he looked into her eyes and the face of the newborn, something shifted in his life. He wanted to show her every man wasn’t cruel and used their hands to abuse. Max was never one to believe in love at first sight but it hit him like a lightning bolt. Nicole and the baby needed tender loving care and he was the man to give it.
BUY Now Link SWAT Chronicles “Wicked “ Book 1
Contest of the Day: Comment to win a copy of One Tough Cop. Contest closes at Midnight. Good Luck!
Hot Seat with Renea Mason
13 Days of Halloween Edition
I put out some Halloween oriented Petit Fours and some wine. I signal for the tuxedo clad Cabana Men to bring her in. Once she’s settled under the spotlight I get the interview started.
1) Happy Halloween! Will you be dressing up this holiday? Or do you just relax and admire all the costumes?
RM: Happy Halloween to you too! Thanks for having me.
I’m not much for costumes, but I do love admiring how creative people can be.
SI: Me too! And you’re very welcome!
2) Your latest release Symphony of Light and Winter seems like the perfect book to curl up with and read while celebrating Halloween; A lover who comes back from the dead, sexiness, six sex mysterious men with a supernatural secret…. *clears throat* I it hot in here? Moving on, what can you tell us about Cyril, why should he be considered an Ultimate Halloween Hero?
RM: Well… Cyril is the calumniation of all things supernatural. He’s a god-like, sometime sprouts wing like an angel, casts magic like a wizard, has fangs and leads a cabal of sexy otherworldly men.
He believes his existence has in someway sparked the greatest paranormal legends throughout time.
3) Your heroine Linden has a pretty cool gift of reading people. If you had her ability how would you use it during Halloween?
RM: I’m too pretty good at reading people, but just like Linden every now and then I’m thrown for a loop. Halloween is all about wearing the mask, perhaps putting away the lens and simply pretending is the best approach.
SI: That’s an interesting take on it!
4) If you could be any Halloween Femme Fatale: Elvira, the Bride of Frankenstein, A vampire who would you be?
RM: Oooo… That’s a tough one. I think… Morticia Adams from the Adam’s Family. Great family and passionate husband–who could ask for more?
SI: I LOVE Morticia! The Adams family rocks!
5) What would you say are your favorite Halloween treats? Ones you can only get during this time of year.
RM: Anything chocolate – Nestle Crunch, Milk Duds, Rollos
Thank goodness it’s only once per year.
SI: And now I want some chocolate, lol.
6) Werewolf, vampire or other? Who would you say is the Ultimate Halloween Creature of the Night?
RM: I was raised on Anne Rice so vampires are always at the top of the list. There is something so powerful about a creature that can make someone beg for death. The seductive nature of the vampire increases their deadliness.
SI: Vampires were my doorway drug to the paranormal, lol.
7) What would you say is your perfect Halloween night? Costume? Giving out candy or watching scary movies with your honey on the couch, popcorn and wine at hand?
RM: After a night of trick or treating with the kids, a large glass of wine while curled up on the couch while watching “The Shining.”
8) If you were dropped into Linden and Cyril’s world which of the six guys would you pick and why?
RM: I would say Cyril, but his curse would make that impossible. So of the remaining six… Overton. He’s sexy, sophisticated, kind, loyal, but still lethal.
SI: Overton sounds dreamy!
9) What do you have coming up that we can put on our must buy lists.
RM: Set to hit before the holidays, is a short story called The Impostor’s Kiss. It’s about Cyril’s time in seventeenth century Scotland. It can be read as a stand-alone story or as a supplement to the Symphony of Light Series. There are subtle ties to Book Two in the Series, which is tentatively titled Between the Waters. The second novel is still in progress but look for it first or second quarter next year.
SI: So. Can’t. Wait!
10) Please tell us where we can find you on the internet.
Thank you so much for wanting to do this Halloween inspired Hot Seat.
RM: Thank you so much for having me!
SI: Thank you for agreeing!
One woman. Seven men. All bound by one man’s undying devotion.
Fundraiser Linden Hill has a knack for reading people. She always knows which conversations will put a prospect at ease, which drink will loosen a patron’s lips—or his wallet, and how cleavage will make a donor sweeten the deal. She’s even foreseen her dateless weekends four hundred and sixty-four times in a row.
But ten years after watching life drain from her former mentor’s and first love’s eyes, her skills for divining the predictable are lost. When Cyril returns, he’s still gorgeous, but this time he’s beyond human, far less dead, and pissed. His lack of memory drives him to desperate acts, and his turbulent re-acquaintance with Linden pulls her into his war with a creature hell-bent on his destruction. His group of six supernatural men share a tantalizing secret, but despite the hunger, it’s love that leads her to sacrifice everything to save him…
Love Paranormal Romance? Some readers have described it as Fifty Shades meets Twilight and the Black Dagger Brotherhood. While others say it reminds them of the Night Huntress or Dark Hunter series’. But most agree it’s unlike any paranormal romance they’ve read. What do you think?
About the author
Renea Mason writes steamy romances to help even out the estrogen to testosterone imbalance caused by living in a house full of men.
When she isn’t putting pen to paper crafting sensual stories filled with supernatural lovers, she spends time with her beyond-supportive husband, two wonderful sons and three loving but needy cats.
She is also a founding member of the Coffee Talk Writers. http://coffeetalkwriters.com/
Thank you to all my current and future readers.
#reneamason, #symphonyoflightandwinter, #eroticromance, #romance, #erotic, #paranormal, #paranormalromance, #cyril, #linden, #overton, #etopiapress, #amazon, #barnesandnoble, #allromanceebooks, #kobo, #coffeetalkwriters, #coffeetalk
Buy the book
Amazon.com (available at most international Amazon sites – Italy, Germany, Japan, Canada, UK etc.)
Follow Renea Mason
A short excerpt to whet your appetite.
18 + Mature content
My amusement was interrupted by the absolute last thing I needed. Cyril. As if being in a room with a bunch of men who wanted me but didn’t know why and hated me for it wasn’t bad enough. In his black custom suit, he radiated power. He pulled at his cuff links as he stopped to survey the room.
Instead of trying to make my escape, I seized an opportunity to antagonize him. I was really starting to enjoy tormenting him.
“Good morning, Grim, it is nice of you to join us.”
“Grim. Ha! She called him Grim.” Rhys clapped his hands as he laughed.
Cyril didn’t acknowledge me or Rhys’s comment. He stood there for a very long time and looked around the room at each man. Nobody met his gaze but me. Cyril’s fists clenched at his side, jaw tight, and face furious.
“I warned all of you,” he addressed the room. He didn’t growl but rather wrapped his words with a subtle menace.
“Leave them alone. You know this is entirely your fault. If you would just think things through, you’d stop fucking everything up. I do have to say, of
all your fuckups, this one is certainly the most impressive and entertaining from my perspective.” I winked at Overton, who managed to glare at me even with his head practically bowed. Why were they so fucking subservient to him?
The next thing I knew, I was yanked from my seat and hoisted onto the counter. Cyril grabbed my ass and pulled me to the edge, forced my legs open, and stepped between them. He wrapped his arms around me and placed his head against mine. It wasn’t his voice I heard but rather his mind. It felt like when I talked to myself but somehow I knew it was him. Strange, he had tone and inflection while communicating.
“You need to stop showing off in front of my men. Yes, I fucked up, but do you really want them to give in to their urges? Do you think you can fend them off? I could toss you to them and see how far you get. Is that what you want? Maybe I should let them have their way with you and pull up a chair to watch. I want you to think about something before you start to defy me. I’m the only one who can keep you safe. So it’s best you stop being a smart-ass for five seconds and listen to me. I’m going to do something that will piss you off. I’m warning you now it’s for your own good. You need to go along with it, no matter how angry you are at me. Don’t fight me. I’ll try to fix this but until then, I need to take a few precautions.”
I wasn’t sure how to respond. If I thought something, could he hear me? Was this two-way communication? I tried to push him away.
He tightened his grip and his voice was in my head again.
“Stop it! Let me remind you that I have a special connection with these men. Not only can I read their thoughts but I can’t block them. I don’t have to try to receive them. I know exactly what each person in this room, besides you of course, is thinking right now.”
So that’s what Overton meant when he said Cyril had ways of finding out.
“The thoughts that assaulted me when I entered this room would make a porn star blush; every one of their little fantasies featured you.”
The voice growled. “Don’t laugh. I won’t pretend I’m not jealous and angry. I am. But if you knew the things they were thinking you’d better understand why I need to do what I’m about to do. Do you see Dominic over there? Let’s just say his tastes run a little dark. Ever spend considerable time naked with your hands bound behind your back and a ball gag in your mouth? He’s picturing you that way, this very instant.”
I stiffened. That didn’t at all appeal to me.
“Thor seems to think that you’d enjoy all of us taking you at the same time.”
And he seemed so quiet and sweet.
“Sinclair wants to shove his cock down your throat until you choke, all the while telling you how it’s your entire fault. Rhys is thinking of how you would look sprawled out on the hood of his new sports car, and Overton…”
“NO!” I yelled.
It seemed like a violation of privacy with Overton. Unlike the others, I considered him a friend. I respected him too much.
“See, like it or not, I’m going to tell you what he’s thinking since it pisses me off the most. He thinks I’m going to fuck you right here on this counter, to lay my claim. Once he gets past the fantasies of watching me fuck you, which he finds exceptionally arousing…”
There was a momentary pause to the voice and when he started again, he was angry.
“He then knocks on your bedroom door after you run crying from the room. You invite him in and he holds you in his arms while you cry about how I violated and humiliated you. He wants to comfort you. He wants to be your savior. He wants to save you from me. But he knows he can’t.”
I felt the moment he left my head, because a sudden wave of dizziness came over me.
With no more words, he tilted his head and placed his lips against mine. I fought the rigidity that tried to seize my body. I knew it was best to give in. I wouldn’t fight him, but I knew every time he got close, I ran the risk of losing myself. I was still way too angry to just give up.
His lips danced with mine as he nestled himself between my open thighs.
Was Overton right? How far would he take it? If it did go too far, would I be able to stop him? He was such a fucking weakness for me I honestly didn’t think I would.
He was gentle and softly stroked my back as his tongue made love to my mouth. With one hand he cupped my ass and pulled me flush against him, and with the other he reached up, cupped my breast, and squeezed hard. His kiss grew frantic and I became caught up in the sensation, forgot where I was, and that I had an audience. He pushed me hard against his erection as he rubbed himself rhythmically against my core. “You are mine. You belong to me. Now say it! Let them all know who you belong to.”
Was he kidding? I hesitated.
He ran his fangs up the side of my neck in warning. He whispered in my ear, “Say it. You need to say it. Let them hear it come from your lips.” His hand drifted from my breast to the hem of my nightgown and pulled up one side so it rested in the crease where my leg met my hip.
Somehow the part of me that knew he was right surfaced, and the stubborn part of me took a momentary vacation. If I was his, they wouldn’t dare defy him. It would keep me safe.
His fingers toyed with the edge of my panties before tugging the fabric to the side to allow him to stroke my moist skin. He positioned himself at the juncture between my legs, allowing my naked flesh to gather friction from his cloth-covered cock.
“Yes, Cyril, I’m yours.”
With that, he struck. His fangs pierced my neck. The second of pain from his bite passed and the pleasure grew, igniting my veins with liquid desire. One arm tightened around me, pulling me harder
against his cock. The other held my head while he sucked harder. Each pull he took was linked to the sensitive place between my legs. He ground his hips into mine and I moaned. The first wave of climax hit, tensing muscles and pushing my breath out in a rush. This was new. He could do this just by biting me?
I shook in his arms as he drank. Tremor after tremor seized me as he took his fill. I was so caught up in the sensation I only vaguely noticed the moans and growls that escaped from behind his teeth. With one final pull, and a thrust of his hips, he finished with a crushing embrace as he removed his teeth from my neck.
“Mine!” he roared. He enveloped me in his arms and held me close. He dipped his head to lick closed the small punctures on my throat.
I threw my head back. My breathing slowed as the cloud that had invaded my head receded.
Son of a bitch! I just came in front of everyone while sitting on the kitchen counter!
I was afraid to open my eyes but when I did, he stared back.
He nuzzled my cheek. “I’m sorry. I only want to protect you. If you’re mine, no one will dare touch you. I needed to lay my claim but I didn’t want to take anything you hadn’t already offered. Since you’ve replenished me before I thought this might be more acceptable.”
I was angrier with myself than him.
He caressed my arms and back. When I mustered enough courage to look around, we were the only
people in the kitchen, with the exception of Overton, who stood in the doorway holding the keys to my car.
Cyril softly lifted my chin so that my eyes would meet his. “Again, I’m sorry. I know I end up saying that far too often. But I need you to know, hearing those words from your lips…ah, hell. I can’t even explain it. Perhaps someday, you’ll utter them in truth.”
He placed his forehead against mine, took a deep breath. “Fuck. Maybe Overton is right. Maybe someone should save you from me.”
Pilgrim. Witch. Wonder Woman. Ghost. Clown.
Those were the things I dressed up as for Halloween. I had been a candy bar one time as well, but that was because I already had the costume from a school play. Same as the roller skating reindeer. I was Blitzen.
There are few things I remember about Halloween as a kid. I remember that my mom made all my costumes (a skill I didn’t learn, sad to say). I remember the candy,too. But unless there was something related to it, like a fall festival or something, I simply don’t remember it. Since I’ve been married, it’s never been a big deal in our house. It’s not the first thing on the kid’s minds when October rolls around. Heck, my son never even thinks about it until the day of…
In years past, instead of Halloween in the neighborhood, we went to fall festivals, carnivals, theme parks. We had experiences, did things, and there’s something wonderful about those memories. My son was always some sports figure (baseball, racing, football) and my daughter was always some animal (though when she was little, she was a powder puff girl, but she does her best to make me forget that)…
Horror movies aren’t big in our house, either. And we sound downright boring. We are. Unashamed, too. But there are pumpkin patches and corn mazes to add to our ‘let’s do something’ attitude toward Halloween.
Candy is the one thing that remains the constant, even as we grow up.
When I was little it was the wax bottles with liquid inside, candy necklaces, pop rocks, tootsie rolls, and Necco wafers. It’s fun to see some of the candies still around. Though now there’s Skittles, banana tootsie pops, caramel apple candy, and every flavor of M&M and candy corn.
Did you have a favorite costume as a kid? A favorite candy you hoped someone was giving out?
Leave me an answer in the comments and I’ll enter you to win a copy of one of my books from my backlist or one of my books set to come out over the next month… Here’s a peek at one of them…
A few years ago, Brax traded in his suit and law degree for part ownership in Love and Tattoos and hasn’t looked back. Inked from head to toe, full of business smarts, and an affinity for loud music and hard sex, he’s got life right where he wants it.
Until the girl he can’t stop craving comes home looking a little lost and acting a little odd around him.
The corporate advertising firm in Philadelphia that she buttoned up her carefree personality for has laid her off. Now her art feels less than inspired, her sex life is nearly dead, and the one thing worth having in the midst of her discontent is off limits.
Brax’s cockiness dares her to believe he knows her better than she knows herself and when he promises he can help her find what’s missing, she reluctantly agrees to his little game. The challenge he lays out comes with a few strings, the suggestion of stripping, and the temptation of ink… But, they’ve never really been that close. How could she possibly lose?
The late afternoon sun warmed his back and a cool Fall breeze blew against the front of his body as he walked toward the deli to pick up his dinner. Small local businesses lined the street in this revitalized area of downtown. A pub that specialized in craft brewed beers, an art supply store with an upstairs gallery, a bookstore that catered to local up and coming authors, a small coffee roaster and homemade dessert shop, among others. Everything in the area was about hands on, handmade, locally created. It wasn’t unique because it was happening all over the country, but it was special. It showed determination and individuality, two things Brax embraced.
The deli, Jamie and Friends, where Brax had called in an order, made the best brisket sandwich he’d ever tasted. They’d perfected it in Jamie’s father’s backyard last summer and it was indeed, perfect. Just thinking about it made his stomach grumble in protest of of how long it was since he’d eaten last. Breakfast. A strawberry pastry and a Red Bull. Not exactly a meal fit for a king.
He rounded the corner, wrapped his hand around the door handle, and that’s when he saw her reflection in the glass. He turned and took a couple of steps. His stomach could wait for a few more minutes.
Her hand tightened around her pencil but when she looked up, shielding her eyes from the sun, her lips parted in a smile. “Hi Brax.”
Did she know he heard the tightness in her voice, that he saw the strain on her face? “Fancy meeting you here,” he remarked casually.
“You said you were going to get coffee and head home.”
“I have coffee.” She pointed to the paper cup to her left on the table. “And after I finish it, I’ll be going home.”
“An answer for everything,” he muttered under his breath. She’d been defensive about her art around him and he was tired of walking on the proverbial eggshells whenever they were around each other. He wasn’t a timid man. He wasn’t nervous around women. He didn’t have to be, but Annie? He’d been trying to find an in with her, trying to get her to smile at him. Just once…
Confusion knit her brow. “What?”
“Nothing.” Brax shook his head. “May I sit?”
Brax pulled the metal and wood chair from under the matching table and sat across from her. “What are you working on?”
“Just doodling.” The answer was evasive at best, something he’d had to get used with her. She quickly closed the notebook and cradled it to her chest in a move Brax didn’t understand. She’d been that way around him for a while now and was starting to piss him the hell off.
Then again, he had to keep reminding himself, in the months she’d been home, she hadn’t quite been herself. “Then why hide them from me?”
She shifted in her seat. “I’m not hiding anything. They’re just not important.”
“Okay.” He’d let the subject drop. For now.
“What are you doing here?” she asked. “Do you need me to come back to work?”
“Nah,” he waved the question off. “Just picking up something to eat. Beth is handling things until I get back.”
“Beth,” Annie said softly. “Of course.”
Brax watched her closely. “Yeah.” He wanted to know what she was thinking but even if he asked, she wouldn’t tell him. They’d never been the share everything friends, but things had been easier between them in the past. What the hell had changed?
“Y’all made a good decision to bring her on. She’s amazing with abstracts and the work she can do with writing is amazing. Her calligraphy is unmatched.” Brax nodded in agreement. “Yes, she is.” Beth was a new hire at Love and Tattoos, the tattoo and piercing parlor Brax owned with Annie’s brother, Joe. They’d been business partners for about four years and best friends since college. Brax had the feeling Annie was a little envious of Beth, but he couldn’t put his finger on why she would be. Beth was younger, blonde haired, blue eyed, tall, tall, slender, and a kickass tattoo artist, and Annie was…not.
Annie was so much more than her looks, her body, and her talent as an artist.
Annie was… Everything. Including Joe’s sister. If Brax could have banged his head against the table without drawing attention to himself, he would have.
He fucking knew better than to fall for a friend’s sister.
She picked up her coffee and glanced somewhere over his shoulder, giving Brax a brief moment to indulge the fantasy of licking her throat, from the hollow at the base up to the dimple in her chin.
Her short hair, black and razor edged, framed her round face and sunlight glinted off the rhinestones at the corners and sides of her black rimmed glasses. She had beautiful hazel eyes, more green than brown when she was happy, more gold than green when she wasn’t.
Brax loved looking at her and counted himself lucky that he’d never been caught staring. No one, especially she nor Joe, knew Brax had a thing for her, but it was time he change that. “When is your food supposed to be ready?” She was looking at him again. He blinked slowly and stretched back in his chair to hide the fact he’d been memorizing the way her chest rose and fell as she breathed, the way her faded Nikki Sixx t-shirt stretched across her breasts.
“When I got here,” he replied easily. “I’ll be right back.”
Brax took a deep breath as he walked into the deli. He had to get himself under control. Joe was out of town at a tattoo convention and it was the first time since Annie had come home that Joe wouldn’t be hanging around. This weekend was his chance to make a move, to draw Annie out, to stake his claim.
Thank you, Selena for having me. I hope all of you have a wonderful and safe Halloween.
The Hot Seat with Qwillia Rain, Becka and Rick
13 Days of Halloween Edition
I set up The Hot Seat to accommodate three people and put out lemon cakes and mini pumpkin pies and some spiced apple cider. Once I’m ready, I signal the Cabana Men dressed in leather to escort my guests in. Once they’re settled in, I begin the interview.
Qwillia settles onto one of the chairs, her legs curled under her while Rick takes a throw pillow from the sofa and sets it on the floor, helping Becka onto it before taking a seat on the sofa behind her, his legs on either side of Becka as she relaxed back against him.
1) Thank you all for allowing me to interview you. I take it you guys are looking forward to Halloween, what with it being Rick’s birthday and all.
Qwillia: Halloween has always been my favorite holiday because I love dressing up and trick or treating.
Rick stayed quiet, but Becka spoke up: We’re having a small party at our house for the kids. Mattie and Bryce and Mike and Lyssa are bringing all their kids. Jacob promised to stop in for a bit and Dayton and Elf may show up with Noelle. Dante flies in on Saturday to spend the week before he heads back to Mexico and the Dulce Oro.
2) A little birdie told me about Diablo Blanco Club’s Midnight Masquerade. What happens there, or is it a secret? What’s the best part of the party? What’s the worst?
Qwillia: Readers can get a glimpse of the party in Rite of First Claim, but I’m hoping to revamp a deleted scene and make it into a short story so readers can see some of the more interesting aspects of the Midnight Masquerade. As for the best part of the party, for me it’s the lead up to midnight because the subs get to mix and mingle with the Doms. The worst part is after selections are made and the couples or groups disperse.
Rick chuckles: But that’s the best part (looks down at Becka) Right, Boo? (Becka smiles and leans back into Rick’s touch.)
3) Other than your birthday what do you look forward to most about Halloween?
Becka laughs: Having Mattie, Bryce and their kids over. Daddy loves having all the kids to tease and tell scary stories to.
Rick grumbles: Only because he likes to make me do the monster under the bed routine before bedtime.
Becka grins up at him: You love it and you know it.
Rick remained silent, but his look promised retribution and Becka’s expression didn’t seem to mind.
4) Can you give us a hint as to what you’re dressing up as?
Qwillia: If they were going to the Midnight Masquerade, Rick would wear a tuxedo and Becka would have to wear a costume.
Becka fought a smile but lost: Danny, our oldest, has already decided he wants us to dress up as a lion tamer and a lioness.
Rick shook his head: Your father should never have taught him how to pick locks.
5) Halloween always seems like a magical night. Anything can happen; all the candles lit, the jack-o-lanterns and of course the candy and parties. What would you say your ideal Halloween would be?
Qwillia: For me, I would love to explore a real haunted house one Halloween. Or spend Halloween with the Ghost Hunters on some location.
Rick chuckled and shook his head: Only you would intentionally seek out something to scare you.
Qwillia: You betcha. I enjoy the paranormal even if I don’t write the genre.
6) Can you tell us a bit more about Diablo Blanco Club and where we can find out more about it?
Rick: The Diablo Blanco Club has been in operation since the early 1800s in Southern California—before the state was even a territory. If you go to Qwillia’s blog you can see the various books she’s written about the club members.
Qwillia mumbles in irritation: Except yours.
Becka patted Qwillia’s hand: You’ll get it finished.
7) Now I know you love pumpkin pie. What other treats do you love to make during this time of year?
Qwillia: Caramel apples, hot spiced cider, and my grandmother’s gingerbread cookies.
Becka peeks over to where Rick is offering a demonstration on the use of a tawse, she whispets: Rick likes to make old fashioned popcorn balls and caramel popcorn … but you didn’t hear that from me.
8) If you could go anywhere to celebrate Halloween where would you go?
Qwillia: Stanley House near Denver, Colorado or the USS North Carolina in Wilmington, North Carolina (both are reputed to be very haunted.)
Rick: The dungeons of the Diablo Blanco Club.
9) What do you have coming up for us? What tasty tidbits will be going on our must buy list?
Qwillia: As I said earlier, I’ve decided to try converting a deleted scene into a short, fun Halloween story. It’ll be an interesting tour through the dungeon of the Diablo Blanco Club during the Midnight Masquerade.
10) Please tell us where we can find you on the internet.
Facebook Fan Page: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Qwillia-Rain-Fan-Page/234065069968987?ref=hl
Thank you for allowing me to interview you. I have the Cabana Men escort them out along with the goodies.
Rite of First Claim
All Romance Ebooks: https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-riteoffirstclaim-1006137-147.html
What’s a Dom to do when the submissive he wants runs from the feelings between them?
From the moment he met Lyssa Lawrence, Mike Halsey knew what he felt was love — not lust. Convincing her has been an uphill battle even after the two steamy hours they’d shared at the Diablo Blanco Club four years earlier.
Lyssa Lawrence wished the man who claimed to love her wasn’t so damned appealing. Eight years of denying the pull of her submissive nature almost went up in smoke four years ago, but she’d gathered the nerve to tell him ‘no’ when he asked for more. She’d have stayed away for good if her biological clock hadn’t hiccuped, threatening her dreams of motherhood.
In the same way she’d strategized her success in fashion design, Lyssa worked out a plan to get the baby she wanted. The Diablo Blanco Club’s annual Midnight Masquerade would provide a number of potential donors to choose from. What she hadn’t bargained on was Mike’s interference through an arcane Club rule.
When Mike invoked Rite of First Claim, Lyssa finally became his. Now, he has one month to prove that the role of his submissive was one she was born to play.
A stone frame accented the unique arched doorway, and a second brim of stone edged the frame. The letters etched into the gray rock were worn down by time and the weather, but each was still visible when she looked close.
“El diablo supone; el Dios sabe; los actos blancos del Diablo,” a man’s voice whispered into her ear.
Lyssa jumped at the amused tone. “Excuse me?”
The man beside Lyssa stepped into the glow of the lanterns that were shaped like medieval sconces on either side of the entrance. His hazel eyes glittered down at her. “The devil supposes; God knows; the white devil acts.”
A neatly trimmed goatee framed his mouth, accenting the full lower and slightly thinner upper lips. The whiskers were the same jet-black as the hair he’d pulled back and secured at his nape. The way he held himself and the self-control emanating from him gave more than enough of a clue that he was one of the Club’s dominants. His tailored tuxedo only confirmed it.
“The words.” The man motioned to the doorway’s decoration with his chin. “That’s what they mean.” His eyes twinkled with humor in his handsome face as he leaned back against the stone pillar to watch her.
Lyssa nodded at him. “I know. A friend of mine told me years ago.”
“Wouldn’t happen to be anyone I know, would it?”
“No.” Lyssa shook her head and grinned. “It was long ago. When I first moved to San Diablo.”
“With your sister, Mattie?”
Lyssa looked at him and finally recognized the man. “You’re David Henderson, aren’t you?” Heat filled her cheeks as an image of this man and his friend, Dayton Kringle—her target for the night—sharing a woman in the lounge of the Club four years earlier entered her mind. She’d joked with her sister about what it would feel like to be caught between a private dick and a hard Saint Nick. How ironic would it be if she were to actually experience it? She held her hand out to him.
He nodded and grinned. “And even with a wig on, I recognized you. You’re Lyssa Lawrence.”
His big hand wrapped around hers, but instead of a friendly handshake, he lifted her hand to his lips and brushed a gentlemanly kiss against her knuckles. The warmth of his breath took away the chill in her fingers for a moment.
After releasing her, he continued, “If a friend told you the motto when you first arrived, it must have been one of your foster brothers.”
The accuracy of his guess made Lyssa start. Then a wisp of memory surfaced. “I remember hearing you’re a detective.”
“Investigator. So was it one of Gino’s boys?”
The nerves relaxed in her belly at the mention of her foster father. It was possible David only recalled the information about her and her sister because he’d been tasked to do a background check on her sister when Mattie first started working as Bryce’s personal assistant twelve years ago. Lyssa admitted, “Yes, it was one of Gino’s boys. I’d forgotten about the inscription being there.”
David stepped aside as another couple ascended the stairs to the front of the Club. He guided Lyssa away from the steps with a hand at her elbow. “I’ll bet Gino tanned his son’s hide for bringing you out here to begin with.”
“Marco was scrubbing hulls for a month.” Lyssa laughed as she recalled the punishment her foster father, the owner of a small boatbuilding and repair shop, had meted out. Her gaze returned to the stone engraving, then drifted back to David.
He extended his hand. “Would you allow me to escort you, or are you having second thoughts?”
Lyssa looked at the hand he held out to her. She might have dressed for her intended target, but nothing said she needed to center her attention exclusively on that man. Considering David posed a likely candidate, it made sense she take the opportunity to acquaint herself with him. Her intended quarry might already be inside or en route. Either way, Lyssa knew what she was looking for, and she wouldn’t settle for less. “No, no second thoughts. As for your escort, I would like that. Thank you.” Lyssa allowed him to settle her hand in the crook of his elbow and draw her through the entrance and into the Club.
Unlike other fetish clubs she’d seen online or had described to her, there were no dimmed lights or curtained hallways leading to private rooms. Instead the paneled walls and crown molding exuded a sophistication and respectability equal to any of the exclusive country or yacht clubs up and down the California coast. These little details made it easier for her to keep her emotions under control. And staying in control, especially tonight, was paramount to the success of her plan. She didn’t dare give in to the temptation to submit to a dominant, no matter how much a part of her craved to do so.
The majority of the guests were dressed in evening gowns or tuxedos. The only ones in costume, like her, were submissives—both those owned and those looking for owners. Scanning the faces, she identified several of her potential donors, but she was careful not to stare at them in a way that might arouse unease or make them leery of her approach. She ignored the tiny pain that twisted her heart when Mike wasn’t among the guests. Forget the fantasy and face reality, Lyssa.
“Smile. We aren’t that scary,” David whispered, his warm breath stirring the hair of her auburn wig over her ear.
A tingle slid up Lyssa’s spine.
“You’ve been here often enough to know we don’t bite.” A wicked grin lifted his lips. “Well, not unless you ask us to.”
Contest: Comment with your favorite Halloween treat to be entered tow win a copy of Rite of First Claim!
Hot Seat with Missy Welsh
13 Days of Halloween Edition
Today’s Hot seat is with the lovely Missy Welsh. Today we’ll be discussing werewolves, trying to redefine words, phrases and objects and what she has in store for us in the future. I have the Cabana Men from the pool sector lead her in and settle her down with some wonderful pumpkin brownies and a carafe and mug of hot chocolate. Let the Interview begin!
1) Thank You for wanting to do this Hot Seat Interview. Tell us about your upcoming release?
MW: Thanks so much for having me here today!
So ISHERWOOD is about Cas Maine and Finnegan Webb. They’re both searching for several things missing from their lives, like security, stability, connection and love. Interwoven into their romance is Finn’s nephew’s traumatic past, his sister’s broken heart, their small town’s dying economy putting pressure on everyone, something mystical forcing werewolves into their shifted form, and lots of secrets that will shake up everything.
SI: Sounds like a wonderful multi-layered story.
2) What about werewolves screamed “write me” to you?
MW: I had the idea, “What if something forced a wolf to shift and THEN he found his mate?” So Cas wanders into a small town called Isherwood, is forced to shift, and he’s a “dog” when he meets Finn, his mate. How does Cas get out of his dog suit to get his man? What made Cas shift? And answering those questions led to new questions and complications that, I think, created a really interesting story where being a werewolf was only part of what’s going on.
SI: You’re making me really want this story to be out now. 🙂
3) Tell us about the characters. What do we need to know about Isherwood?
MW: Cas is half-human and gay. Those are things that have been historically difficult for wolf society to accept (in this story world). While it is getting better, Cas has only known the prejudice, so he’s cautious whenever he finds himself on a new pack’s territory. In the beginning, he’s really just trudging through life and trying to find a place he can call home.
Finn feels incomplete and helpless in a lot of ways. His last boyfriend walked out on him for a younger model, his nephew has issues, his sister has some too, their little construction company is failing… He’s not on solid ground and he’s struggling every day. When a little dog enters his life, it’s like Finn gets a spark back in his life.
The town of Isherwood has the biggest secret, so I won’t give that away, but it’s a place that saw better days not too long ago and the key to reviving it lies with Cas and especially Finn. Pretty much everyone’s life in this story would be improved if Isherwood was restored.
SI: Sounds like I’m going to be reaching for a tissues. Can’t wait to read it.
4) Would you do more werewolf stories? I know you have another one, that I loved but would you love to dive back into the werewolf world?
MW: I have this 4- or 5-book monstrosity that I’ve been tinkering with for a couple years now that introduces all the VIPs in my werewolf/vampire universe. Technically, the first 3 or so would be prequels to ISHERWOOD and YOURS FOREVER. I think I also have a Buffy-like spinoff story I could explore afterward, but it’s all just fun right now. I won’t move on publishing any part until they are all completed, but oh yeah, there are weres in my future.
5) I was lucky enough to get to read a sneak peek and I adore Cas. You create such wonderful well rounded, beautiful characters. What makes you say yes, I need to write you? What makes a hero Missy worthy?
MW: Oh, that’s a tough one. With most of my characters, I think I start out with one thing that makes me want to dig deeper. For Cas here, I wanted to see him handle the insta-love mates thing when there wasn’t anything insta about it. For Finn, well, he has some secrets he doesn’t even know about that impact his entire family, so rooting those out and discovering the hero in him kept me going.
SI: Sounds like a lot of secrets are going to be spilled. *grins*
6) A little birdie told me, okay, you told me, there were several subplots in this story. Would you say Isherwood is your most complicated story to date?
MW: YES! Lordy, there were THREADS and SUBPLOTS and TWISTS in this thing. As a short story writer from way back, I’m used to writing about 1 to 2 people and their issues in a limited timeframe so watch the clutter, right? Then I get into ISHERWOOD and suddenly I’m diagramming and making lists and waking up out of a dead sleep with thoughts about missing something. Most people will probably read this story and be like, “THIS is complicated? She’s delusional.” But for me, this was epic.
SI: Nope, nope, you’re not alone. It’s part of being an author.
7) Now you know that I’ve accused you of redefining words and phrases, candy cane and docking comes to mind. When writing do you think okay people aren’t going to think of this item/phrase the same way again or are you so into it that you don’t notice?
MW: It really tickles me whenever someone thinks I’m shocking. I’m so not IRL. George’s candy cane cock from AN ANGEL GETS HIS WINGS came from a photo of some young man’s erection that had a definite hook to its profile. Wicked Welsh – because Missy is sweet and would NEVER – wondered what that sort of shape might feel like for his partner…and decided it would be grand! And then Mal cock-docking with Wes in THE DOOR INTO SPRING, well, why not play with a foreskin if you have one? (That was out of “research documentaries” of course.) Honestly, I didn’t think either would make anyone gasp which just goes to show how corrupted I am by this Welsh woman.
SI: Oh sure, blame it on Wicked Welsh, uh huh. I see how this goes. I suppose you’re going to claim that Missy is an angel too?
8) Okay, I’ve gotten that off my chest. Now you know I love your stories, you make me cry, laugh and fall in love with your characters. What story would you say says this is me as an author, this is who I am and this story should be the one you read first?
MW: MY SUMMER OF WES because Mal is me. Not completely me, obviously, but a lot of me went into making him. I’ve experienced bullying, parental apathy, social isolation, and the fear of reaching out because what if no one’s there. By giving Mal everything he’s ever wanted and needed through Wes, I gave myself a Prince Charming and a Happily Ever After. It’s not a perfect story, but my heart went into making it. If you want to know me and my work, read MY SUMMER OF WES.
SI: I heart that story so much.
9) What do you have coming up that we must get our greedy little hands on?
SI: For 2014, I’ve committed to AQP for a ghost story, a May-December, a dragon shifter, and – if I can swing it – I’d like to do a couple sequels for Loose Id. And now that I think of it, some of those are probably going to have you looking differently at spirit possession, twist ties, and baseball bats. Brace yourself, Se!
SI: So much yumminss on the way, can’t wait!
10) Please tell the readers where they can find you on the internet (Website, FB, Twitter, etc.)
Book News Newsletter: http://eepurl.com/vKWLz
Thank you so much for sitting in the Hot Seat. I signal the Cabana Men to lead Missy out to relax by the pool.
Thanks for having me!
Finn’s internal alarm had him waking up at almost six o’clock on the dot, as usual. What was very much not typical was the fact he was wrapped around a naked man. Cas… Finn smiled and cuddled closer, nuzzling into that soft, red hair when he felt it on his nose. He smelled like a spice—cinnamon maybe—but also like a lot of sweaty sex.
The heart-pounding need, that feeling from last night that drove him to plunder and claim, wasn’t there anymore. Finn sighed and held Cas and just knew… He’s mine.
Never before had he fallen so fast for someone. He couldn’t stop thinking that this was crazy and maybe reckless and possibly detrimental to his heart, but… Comfortable, familiar, and…fulfilling too. Finding puzzle pieces or Mister Right—the clichés were real.
Hopefully, Cas felt the same. Please.
Cas made a snuffling-snorting noise and rolled over. Finn lifted his head, watching as Cas fit himself tight against Finn’s chest. Cas’s arms were between them, his hands tucked up under his chin, and his head bowed. When he curled up one leg, Finn raised his up and let Cas have the space between his thighs while Finn’s leg rested on the outside of Cas’s leg. Cas took a deep breath and sighed it out like everything was now perfectly right with his world.
Finn smiled and sighed too, wrapping his arms back around Cas’s head and shoulders. In looking down to kiss Cas’s ear, Finn paused.
At the base of Cas’s neck, right near his shoulder, was a football-shaped bruise. Damn. There were darker points in the bruise from his teeth. Will Cas be pissed? He’d been into it when it happened, asked for it even, but maybe he hadn’t meant for Finn to mark him so deeply. Or publicly since it would be easy to see above the neck of the T-shirts Cas usually wore.
Since Finn was supposed to leave early because of the welcome party—or whatever it was—which had been his compromise for getting to sleep over, he decided to wake Cas up now. Much as he didn’t want to leave at all, well, they had a couple things to work out.
Didn’t mean he couldn’t play a little, of course.
“Cas?” he whispered. Louder, he said, “Oh Cassie.” Nothing. Finn palmed Cas’s butt and gave him some deep squeezes. “Cassie-pie, wake up.”
Cas chuckled, then blinked sleepily at him. “Cassie-pie?”
“Yep. And we’re keeping it because you answered to it.” Finn winked at him.
“Ugh. Bedroom only,” he said with a one-eyed glare.
Finn kissed those puffy, pink lips softly. Cas hummed and his hand roamed Finn’s back, down over his ass, and along his thigh. Keeping the kisses sweet, Finn used his calf to pull Cas closer. Cas made more happy noises and rocked into Finn, their groins rubbing, cocks firming up. Want to wake up every morning just like this.
Finn looked at Cas, his strong, masculine face worry-free and so young like this. But then Cas frowned and sighed.
“You need to go, Finn. Remember?”
Since he’d promised to leave before sunrise and it was well passed that, he took advantage of the time until Cas might notice how light the room was. What could it hurt?
“Just give me a minute or two.” He switched their legs around, so Cas’s was over Finn’s hip, then he massaged that amazing, little ass. “Then I’ll go.”
“A minute or two?” Cas chuckled, but he pressed into Finn’s hand encouragingly.
Finn smiled and nibbled on the pale pink earlobe in front of him. “Want to see how fast I can make you come?”
“Oh fuck.” Cas moaned, now rubbing his thickening cock into Finn’s belly.
Taking that for consent, Finn pressed a finger into him and rubbed back as Cas moaned and seemed to open right up for him. He slid his finger deep and played around in there, loving that soft tightness.
Nope, he didn’t want to. He rolled them over so he was on top and pushed Cas’s knee up onto his shoulder. It had Cas undulating his cock and balls against Finn’s abs while Finn had plenty of room to play with Cas’s hole.
He was sticky with lube and moist from sleeping squished against Finn all night. “Can’t seem to get enough of you,” Finn said before mouthing Cas’s chest, heading for a tight, pink nipple.
Cas said, “Oh God,” but then he went still. His abs contracted against Finn, and now Cas said, “Shit.No.”
Finn looked up and saw Cas’s eyes wide open, something like shock on his face.
“Off,” Cas sort of grunted, shoving at him. “Oh fuck. Get off me, Finn!”
He moved back, his heart rate kicking up. “What’s wrong?”
“No.” Cas clutched at his stomach and rolled to his side. “Not yet.”
“Cas, what’s wrong? Are you in pain? Did I—” Oh Jesus. If I hurt him…
“Finn,” he said, shaking now. “Sorry. So s-sorry.” There was agony in those bright blue eyes before he squeezed them shut.
“Come on, baby,” he begged and touched Cas’s shoulder. “Tell me what’s wrong. Let me help. Please.”
Cas opened his mouth and a sound like a groan came out, but then it went deeper, a growl, as he squeezed his eyes shut and something awful started happening. His skin erupted with red-gold hairs, hisbones moved underneath that, and suddenly, his face elongated, giving him a snout like…
“Oh, Jesus Christ!”
…like a dog. A little, red dog with blue eyes.
Hot Seat Interview with Sindra van Yssel
13 Days of Halloween
Today’s Hot Seat Interview is with the scintillating Sindra van Yssel who has written some very steamy books. I set out some petit fours and coffee and have the Dom Cabana Men bring her into the room. After she settles in I adjust the spotlight and get to work on finding out more about this fantastic author.
1) Thank you so much for agreeing to do this Hot Seat Interview with me. I just finished reading Dom and Domme and just loved it.
Thank you Selena, it’s a pleasure to be here. Dom and Domme is one of my favorite books.
2) What inspired you to write Dom and Domme?
SvY: I like to break out of the mold where everyone is either a dominant or a submissive that seems to pervade a lot of BDSM books. Some people do find a role that suits them best, and stick with it. But there are a lot of people in the BDSM scene who switch. Maybe they submit to their life partner, but are dominant with casual partners. Maybe they just like variety. Maybe they start out on one side of the flogger and find they like the other more later on. In some gay male BDSM subcultures there’s even a notion that one should start out as a submissive and serve a sort of apprenticeship before asking another man to submit to you. I wanted to reflect the reality that people don’t fit into neat little descriptions, but they can still make their relationships work.
SI: I love that!
3) I loved Gray and Elizabeth. Their dynamic was fascinating. How difficult was it for you to write two characters who both wanted to be in charge?
SvY: Oh, very, very difficult. I should win a prize or something. See me suffer for my art!
Actually, a lot of the dialog wrote itself. Gray and Elizabeth have two very strong conflicting motivations – they absolutely want to be in charge, and they love the other person. It was often very easy to see how they’d handle the situations they put themselves into. I think they were actually easier to write than most.
SI: I love when that happens, it makes the writing of those stories such a joy.
4) Gray and Elizabeth found balance in their relationship and was able to find a common ground. From a writer’s perspective how did you plot out the balance between them to make sure that both characters got what they wanted without losing their core essence? Or did you just let it ride like a panster?
SvY: That was the tricky part. My approach is usually to write the first 10,000 words or so pantser style, and then to write an outline… which I may or may not follow exactly if something better comes to mind, but if I do veer off I usually write a new outline for the remainder. Gray and Elizabeth didn’t so much veer off as find a different path to the same ending.
A lot of BDSM books, and romances in general, don’t really require the characters to give up anything to be together… and that’s fine, and idyllic. But there’s something very lovely about two human beings being willing to make compromises, too… and Gray and Elizabeth find that maybe they aren’t exactly who they thought they were, in some ways. It’s a growth thing for both of them.
SI: Very true to life.
5) You’ve written such wonderful Doms and Subs. Which would you say is more difficult to write?
SvY: I’d say subs are harder to write well, on the whole, but it really depends on the book and the characters. There’s a delicate line – one wants a character to be assertive, but a submissive has to be yielding as well, and it’s more often the subs lines I have to rewrite as they head off too far in one direction. Doms are a challenge because they want to be in control, but there’s a line between being dominating (good) and domineering (bad).
6) Dom and Domme is part of a series that has three books in it so far. Are there anymore stories you’d like to tell in this world?
SvY: I don’t have a plan to write a fourth book – the idea for a long time was to feature Amanda in the third and last book, which I did with Brat and Master. If an idea comes up I’ll certainly be happy to revisit, but I don’t have a character who from the previous books that’s calling out for a story.
7) What was your favorite part of writing the three books in the series?
SvY: I found Elizabeth and Amanda (especially in the third book, where she’s more than a bit character) the most fun to write – I think because they are both feisty. I mentioned that I tend to write the first 10,000 words or so off the cuff, and almost always those are the most enjoyable to write. That’s true of these three books as well. It’s particularly true in Blonde and Owner, because I love the way Vincent comes to the rescue and takes control.
SI: Feisty characters seem to just come forward and tell you what they’re about rather than be sneaky and hold back like other characters.
8) Will we get to hear from Gray and Elizabeth again?
SvY: Maybe. I’d actually love to write about them more, if I could just write about them, because I think they have an adventurous life together ahead of them, but the way romances work that would have to be in the context of someone else’s story. I don’t think there’s anything unfinished about their story, but it’d be fun to just let them romp a bit 🙂
SI: Maybe just a mini story sneak peek into their busy lives, after all Gray is a professor and Elizabeth has a new business.
9) Can you tell us what your latest or upcoming release is that we will want to buy as soon as it comes out?
SvY: Please Sir, the 3rd book in the Submission Island Tetrology, is due out November 8th from Ellora’s Cave. His Little Treasure, a Bondage Ranch book, will be out from Loose Id sometime around January.
10) Please tell readers where they can find you on the internet (website, FB, Twitter, etc.)
Thank you so much for doing this interview with me. I have the Cabana Men escort her out of the room.
OUT NOW! Dom and Domme
Blurb: Master Gray Merritt is looking for a sub one night at Excess, a BDSM night club, but instead he finds Betsy Castle, the college lover that still haunts his fantasies. Betsy is now Mistress Elizabeth, and she has some fantasies of her own that don’t involve Gray being on top. They agree to try to reconnect by having vanilla sex, but neither of them is willing to let it stay vanilla for long, and the struggle to be on top begins.
One night isn’t enough for either of them, but how can two people used to being in control manage to make things work? If there’s a will, there’s a way, but they’re both going to have to put love before control.
Gray Merritt clasped Joe’s meaty hand and shook it hard. Joe was a fixture in the local scene even though the big burly man wasn’t really a part of it. Joe had been a bouncer at Excess as long as the place had been in existence. Seven years. As far as Gray knew, the man had no interest in any of the kinky games people played behind the dark steel door, but he knew everybody.
“Been a long time, my man,” said Joe.
“Weeks,” acknowledged Gray, not sure whether he was agreeing or disagreeing.
“Some fine, fine looking ladies on the inside,” Joe said. Gray wasn’t sure when Joe had started saying ladies and stopped saying pieces of ass, but it was a good change. “Some I haven’t seen before. One or two that are your type.”
His type. Joe meant submissive. Gray nodded. “I’ll have to check ’em out, see if I get lucky.”
“Do you ever get unlucky?” Joe shook his head. “Man, I don’t remember seeing the day.”
Gray shrugged. “It happens.” He had a good reputation as a caring dom who could give a sub what she needed, and a little empathy went a long way. Excess was a membership or invitation only club, and Joe was posted to make sure it stayed that way. Any sub either knew Gray already or knew someone who would vouch for him.
Gray walked in, declined the offer of a glass of wine from the waitress in the leather French maid outfit, and scanned the place. He let himself take in the pretty parts of the scenery. Most of the time when he came to Excess, he was content to hang out with friends. Subs would come to him, meekly avert their eyes, and he would play with one if he thought his whims and her desires would match that evening. If they didn’t, it never bothered him. He’d rather be picky than risk a bad scene. But tonight was different. Tonight he definitely wanted to get laid. And Betsy Castle was to blame.
It had been ten years since he’d seen Betsy. They were lovers their entire last year of college, way before he’d discovered BDSM. He’d thought they might build a life together, although there had never been any promises. Certainly the sex was blistering hot. Whether he’d find vanilla sex with any woman quite that arousing again, he didn’t know. Still, the memory of her–with her full breasts and rounded thighs, her soft, plump lips and darkest chocolate eyes–was enough to give him a raging hard-on. He didn’t know if she’d be at the reunion, but there was always a chance. She hadn’t shown up for the five year, so she probably wouldn’t be there for this one either, but he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about the possibilities.
She’d gotten a job on the West Coast, San Francisco. He was blurry on the details, something in finance, in the foreign currency markets, working for a big English bank. Great pay for someone fresh out of college. She’d offered to take him with her and put him through grad school, but he wasn’t going to spend his life playing second fiddle to a woman. He supposed he had a little of the dominant in him even then. Or maybe he’d been plain stubborn. Too stubborn to let her know he wanted her to stay with him, because he knew it was selfish to deny her the golden opportunity. Too stubborn to write her so much as an e-mail once she’d left. She’d been just as stubborn. He wondered if she still thought of him. He doubted it.
He shook his head to clear his mind and started scanning again. He wasn’t after novelty tonight. He didn’t need to find yet another way to get a woman off. He just wanted a nice soft woman with a tight pussy and an insatiable appetite, a submissive he could enter time and time again until both of them were exhausted and satisfied. He didn’t think he’d find anyone to make him forget Betsy, but at least he would lack the energy to jerk off to his memories.
He spotted Amanda near the center of the room, talking to the waitress. She would do nicely. She didn’t want a collar any more than he wanted to collar anyone. She was wearing the sort of outfit she usually wore when she was trying to attract dominant attention, which was most of the time: a purple leather bra under a translucent white blouse tied to bare her stomach, and a plaid skirt that didn’t cover her ass. Her blonde hair was tied up, and her fake black-rimmed glasses were firmly in place, more librarian than schoolgirl, but what the hell. She’d never said no to him yet, and she knew full well any man would love to take those glasses off and make her long hair fall down around her shoulders. She was scrawnier than he would have preferred, but she was always fun. And what had she said to him the last time they’d played? “Anytime.” He knew she didn’t say that to everyone.
He strode down the five steps from the gallery, where people lounged and chatted, to the pit, as the regulars called it, and walked over to her. The pit was full of bondage equipment, some in use, some not. He ignored the scenes going on around him. Normally he appreciated seeing how other people did things, hoping to pick up ideas, but tonight he couldn’t care less. He intercepted Amanda after she took two cups of white wine, one in each hand. Offering a dom a glass of wine was one of many ways a sub could show interest without seeming impertinent. He suspected that was exactly Amanda’s plan. He was simply making sure it was him.
He took the glass out of her left hand and smiled at her. “For me?” He didn’t usually drink at Excess because alcohol and BDSM could be a bad mix. But one glass wouldn’t affect him.
She stopped and lowered her eyes. “Master Gray.”
He pushed her chin up. “Good girl,” he told her.
She still averted her eyes, which wasn’t a good sign. Something was definitely wrong. “Are you okay, Amanda?” It didn’t matter what his needs were tonight; if a friend needed a friend, thatwas what he’d be.
“I’m afraid, Sir, that I’m spoken for tonight.”
He blinked. The two glasses weren’t part of a come-on, after all. He handed her back the glass. On any other day he’d have let it go. But this time he asked. “Who is he?”
“Not a he this time. She. A new mistress at the club. I think she’s a pro domme.”
He vaguely recalled Amanda swung both ways. He smiled and nodded, graciously he hoped.
“Well, you’ll have to introduce me at least. Maybe she and I can come to an arrangement.”
She blinked at him twice. He was willing to bet her heart sped up at the thought. He was also willing to bet an offer to buy her from her mistress for the night would push all the right buttons. Even though he usually found auctions silly and the idea of buying someone ludicrous, since Amanda was her own woman except for a few hours at a time, he loved to please.
“Yes, Sir,” said Amanda. She walked across the pit, weaving her way politely around the backswing of a hefty dom flogging his petite sub. Gray followed. Mark had made Jolene’s bottom a pretty shade of pink, but she was tougher than she looked. Mark was getting a workout.
Sitting alone on a chair was a voluptuous leather-clad beauty. Her face was turned away, looking out the smoky window at the moonlit river beyond. She wasn’t very tall, although it was hard to tell for sure with her sitting down; still, in thigh-high boots with stiletto heels, her legs looked long, and there was healthy expanse of soft thigh between the top of the boots and her high-cut leather shorts. The tight corset she wore pushed her full breasts up so nicely he could almost imagine it was his hands doing the pushing. It was clear she was all soft woman in that austere outfit. Too bad she was a domme.
“Mistress Elizabeth, Master Gray requested an introduction.”
The domme turned and took the glass of wine. “Thank you, Amanda.” She looked up at Gray, and he found himself staring into the deepest chocolate brown eyes he’d ever seen.
“You!” said Mistress Elizabeth.
He didn’t have to ask. He’d never forget those eyes or the rest of her. No wonder he’d instantly thought of his hands on her breasts; the last time he’d seen her, his hands had been roaming her body, feeling her softness, trying to make good-bye sex something so good she’d want to come back for more. His cock was instantly, painfully hard. He wanted to climb on her, push her shorts aside, and fuck her senseless right then and there.
“My, my, my. Gray Merritt,” said Betsy. Her voice had lost some of the southern drawl it used to have, but it was still her voice. “I thought I’d play with a girl today–women are so much simpler and more sensible–but I could make an exception for you if you’d like to be my boy toy.”
Amanda’s jaw dropped. “Boy toy? Master Gray?”
Gray’s lips slowly curved into a smile. He wasn’t thrilled about Betsy having used his last name in front of Amanda, because he valued his privacy. Dr. Merritt, physics professor at RadsonUniversity, preferred not to be connected to Master Gray. He didn’t call her on it. Seeing him here might have been as much of a shock to her as seeing her had been for him. “Funny, I had been planning to play with a sub, but I’m happy enough to master you instead.” How many times had he played that scenario in his head? He’d lost count. He leaned forward until he was an inch away from her, nose to nose, eye to eye. “It’s been a while, Betsy.”
Her breath was hot against his, and for a moment, he thought she was going to go for it. Her gaze softened, and then she set her jaw. “It’s Elizabeth now, Gray. Mistress Elizabeth. No one calls me Betsy.”
“You two know each other?” asked Amanda.
“We go way back, don’t we, Betsy?”
“Uh-oh,” said Amanda.
Betsy stuck out her jaw and tilted her nose up until she had to look past it to see him. “I’m no sub, Gray, never was and never will be.”
Gray didn’t back up an inch. “Me neither.”
“You could both play with me,” said Amanda, her voice getting ever quieter.
Gray pulled Betsy half out of her chair, pressing his mouth hard against hers. Her lips parted, responsive, yielding for a moment as his tongue entered her mouth.
Then he felt her grab his hair and force his head back. That didn’t end the kiss, however, as her lips followed him, her tongue wrestling with his.
Damn her lips feel good. He tried to shake her hand out of his hair, but of course that only caused her to pull more. He’d never seen her hair anything but short before; now it hung in long and luxurious black waves over her shoulders. He grabbed it and tugged. He knew he was stronger than she was, but he’d never used his strength against a woman who wasn’t fully willing, and he steeled himself to pull only slightly harder than she was. He had more to grip, that was all. She bit his lip, hard, and he tasted blood. Reluctantly, he let go. So did she.
“Damn, Betsy.” He wiped his lip with his arm, which he instantly realized was a mistake. Scratch one white shirt. That bloodstain wasn’t likely to come out.
“Fuck, Gray.” She kicked the chair to the side as she stood up. Even in those heels, she was several inches shorter than he was, but it didn’t seem to faze her. She stood toe-to-toe with him, staring him down. He stared back. Neither gave any ground.
“Ten years, you never wrote.”
“Ten years, you never did either.”
People were gathering around, making a half circle around the two of them. Amanda took a step back, joining the spectators, and Gray felt a twinge of guilt. He was violating one of the club’s big rules, breaking into a scene negotiated between two other consenting adults. The only reason he hadn’t gotten busted for it was Betsy and Amanda hadn’t gotten hot and heavy yet. Normally he would have found the idea of watching the two of them a turn-on, but right now he wanted to pick Betsy up, put her over his shoulder, and carry her out of the club. He’d have to hold in the caveman impulse for now. It was painfully obvious Betsy wasn’t going to consent to that kind of treatment. He was only a Neanderthal when it was mutually satisfying. He took a breath.
Betsy stood legs apart, her hands on her hips. That she hadn’t called him on the carpet for busting her scene was the only thing that gave Gray any sense of optimism the confrontation might turn out well. And what did he want anyway? He wanted to fuck her, sure. He wanted her back in his life, maybe. She was almost certainly only here for the weekend, with her high-finance career and all in California. What the hell was she doing here? And when had she become “Mistress Elizabeth”?
He took in the sight of the soft curves. Watching her breasts swell and strain against the black leather of the corset wasn’t going to help him think. He shifted his gaze back to her face and saw her plump lips curve slightly at one corner. She’d caught him looking, and she wanted him to know his wandering gaze had been noticed.
“I’m sorry,” he said. He hadn’t had to apologize for much in his years of going to Excess, and the words felt strange. “I was taken by surprise. I didn’t expect to see you here, of course. Can we start again?”
Betsy nodded and turned. “Amanda.”
“Yes, Mistress Elizabeth.” Amanda stepped forward but didn’t kneel the way Gray half expected her to.
“I’m sorry to have been distracted. If you wish, I will proceed as we discussed, as is my obligation to you for your lovely gift of submission. Or, if you prefer, I will release you.”
Amanda nodded. “It’s no fun to serve someone who would rather be elsewhere, Mistress. And besides, I don’t really wish to have Master Gray pissed at me. Please release me.”
Betsy nodded. “You are released, Amanda, and thank you for the glass of wine.”
Gray knew Amanda would have no trouble finding a play partner. She never did. Still, he appreciated her graciousness. “Amanda, I owe you.”
“I’ll take you up on that sometime.” Amanda curtsied and stepped back out of his line of vision.
“Thank you, Betsy,” Gray said.
Betsy glared at him. “Elizabeth.”
“Elizabeth,” Gray conceded through gritted teeth. He let out a breath, then dropped his voice low so the onlookers couldn’t hear. “You know what I’ve been dreaming of for ten years?”
Betsy’s face softened, and her eyes twinkled. “What?”
“Of taking you, stripping you naked, tying you to my bed, and fucking you until you scream.”
She chuckled. “What a coincidence.”
He wasn’t nearly enough of an optimist to think she wanted what he wanted. “How so?”
She leaned forward and rubbed her breasts against him. He could feel the boning of the corset digging into his flesh, and it didn’t feel at all like the soft Betsy he remembered. She smiled up at him. “I’ve had this dream of taking you, stripping you naked, tying you to my bed, letting you pleasure me, and then teasing you until you beg me to let you come.” She took a step back and smirked at him.
Right. “Not going to happen.”
“You’re not going to top me,” Elizabeth told him, “but don’t worry, no one else is either. There’s only one way I like it. That’s with me on top.”
“What a coincidence,” he said, matching her earlier tone. This was getting nowhere, and the gossip-hungry crowd wasn’t helping. He glanced around. “None of this is any of your business, so scram.”
He would normally be more polite, especially as some of the people were his friends, but she’d gotten under his skin and good. A few walked away, enough so those remaining felt self-conscious and followed. He turned back toward Betsy. “So, Elizabeth, how’ve you been?”
“Very well, actually. And you?”
He thought for a moment. He had tenure at the university, taught two classes a week, had a big research grant, and had a wide variety of sex partners. Something was missing, to be sure, but he didn’t feel like he had a right to complain. “Fine, fine. Taking the world of finance by storm?”
“I quit after a year.”
“You what?” It was the thing that broke them up, and she quit?
She shrugged. “I started doing a few dominatrix gigs on the side, and it wasn’t long before I realized it paid nearly as well and was a heck of a lot more fun.” She took note of the expression on his face and added, “People change, Gray. I’m sorry you thought I was obligated to stay in one line of work to satisfy your ego.”
Ouch. Was that it? He didn’t like to think so, but it was too close to what he had been thinking for him to refute it.
“You’re a full professor now, one of the fastest to tenure of any faculty in the history of our alma mater,” Elizabeth told him. “Very impressive.”
She’d obviously taken the time to look him up. He smiled. “Boned up before the exam at the reunion, I see. Just like old times.”
“Except some of the boning back then wasn’t studying.” She licked her upper lip seductively, and his cock twitched. No, some of it hadn’t been. Some of it had been hard, hot, sweaty sex, in the bed, against the wall, wherever. And the way she licked her lip reminded him of what her lips had felt like around his cock.
“Good point. You can have some more of that action if you like. All you have to do is submit to me.” He reached out, stroked her cheek, and then slid his hand down to her neck. Right where a collar would go. She tilted her head to let him. For a moment, he thought he had her.
She brought her hand forward and gripped his rigid cock, kneading it through his pants. A little friction made it ache. He had to have her, or he was going to be thinking about her hand there for the next ten years.
“I’ll get you off, Gray. Just like old times. I’ll have you gasping and squirting hot, wet cum. Maybe I’ll let you come on my tits. Would you like that? Or if you’re very, very good, I might even let you come inside me.” She licked her lips again, indicating where. “All you have to do is follow instructions. That’s not very much to ask, is it? You know I won’t hurt you.” She squeezed his cock extra hard, and he was about to tell her that was something very much like hurting, but it felt too damn good. He wondered if she could feel him pulse through the fabric. “And you really want to come, don’t you, Gray?”
He grabbed her around the waist and held her firmly so she couldn’t escape what he was going to do next. All’s fair in love and war. He wasn’t entirely sure if this was love or war as he grabbed her crotch and insinuated a finger under the inseam of her shorts. Moisture rewarded his touch immediately. “I’m not the only one,” he said, trying not to look at the shocked expression on her face. She tried to wiggle away. There was a club safe word–mayday–and she could use if she really wanted to be let go. Assuming she’d read the rules. If she wanted to be a dominatrix at Excess, she’d better have read the rules.
“Get your finger out of my pussy, Gray,” she whispered.
“Only if you quit squeezing my cock, Betsy. You want me. Face it.”
For answer, she squeezed harder. If it was meant as a power play, she’d be better off going for his balls, but if she did, he was sure he could make her regret it. If her point was he wanted her as badly, well, damn straight.
“Elizabeth,” she said.
It took him a moment to remember he’d called her Betsy several seconds ago. Elizabeth was going to take some getting used to, but he could see why “Mistress Betsy” didn’t have the same ring. Although it wasn’t like he was ever going to call her Mistress anyway. “Fine. My house or your hotel?”
“What’s wrong with right here, right now?” Elizabeth asked, challenging him.
There were private rooms at the club. It wasn’t unheard of for people to have sex in the gallery, but it was usually done at least somewhat discreetly. Even at Excess, some things were gauche. For a change, though, he barely cared. “Sure. I’ll come to San Francisco and fuck you in front of your friends, just to make it equal. Let’s see if the Orient room is busy.” At least that room didn’t have too much traffic in front of it. All the rooms had small windows at head height through which people could watch from the gallery, partly to satisfy the desire of the voyeurs, partly to facilitate education in techniques, but above all to secure everyone’s safety.
“How about the dungeon room? That way if you decide you’d like to worship me…”
“Dream on, B-Elizabeth.”
She chuckled at his recovery.
“That’s prime voyeur territory anyway,” Gray went on. “Not that I mind being watched, normally, but…” He left the rest unspoken. It would be a lot easier for her to submit if she didn’t feel like she was being humiliated in the process. If he said it, she’d only tell him it wasn’t going to happen.
“But we have private business to attend to, don’t we? Very well.” She spun on her spikes and walked off in the direction of the Orient room. For a first timer, she’d made herself quite acquainted with the layout, but then Betsy had always done her homework.
Whose guest is she anyway? The idea that it might be some guy made a knot tighten in his chest. He knew he had no right to feel that way after ten years. And damn her for making it look like he was following her when he knew and she knew going to the Orient room had been his idea. He hurried after her, caught up, and opened the red door in time to invite her into the Orient room like a gracious host.
Copyright © Sindra van Yssel
Contest: Comment to win a copy of Dom and Domme.
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!
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.
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*
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.
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.
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!
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!
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!
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.
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!
Please tell everyone where they can find you on the interwebs.
My author website: http://www.jodiredford.com
Author blog: http://www.jodiredford.blogspot.com
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.
A witch, tiger and wolf doing naughty things. A dead voodoo queen doing evil things. And zombies doing zombie things. Get your shovels ready.
http://store.samhainpublishing.com/that-voodoo-p-6116.html http://www.amazon.com/That-Voodoo-Black-Magic-ebook/dp/B0042P5I9W http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/that-voodoo-you-do-jodi-redford/1100397908 https://itunes.apple.com/us/artist/jodi-redford/id411077972 http://www.allromanceebooks.com/storeSearch.html?searchBy=author&qString=Jodi+Redford
“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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