Posts Tagged ‘Guest Blogging’

How Excited Can One Girl Be?

I don?t know?but I am super excited! The first story I ever wrote is now out in?wait for it?audio!? J The Seeds of Dawn: Book One ? Dreams was the first book I ever wrote, but not the first to be published. It was, however, my first print book and now my first audio!

Book one in The Seeds of Dawn Series

Anabella?s dreams bring her to David, but is he the salvation she?s looking for?

Anabella Pouge is plagued with powers she can?t control, making her life far from normal when all she wants is ordinary. Change is coming her way when she must flee with a man straight out of her dreams.

David Sanders is sent to find Anabella. Without her, the future of his wolf pack is in danger. Forced to travel to the middle of nowhere, David finds Anabella might mean more than just his pack?s survival.

Will the two make it back to the pack in time? Can Anabella and David accept each other and the coming changes to their lives?

Reader Advisory: This story has been previously released as part of the Over the Moon anthology by Total-E-Bound

EXCERPT:

By reading any further, you are stating that you are 18 years of age, or over. If you are under the age of 18, it is necessary to exit this site. Copyright ? Jambrea Jo Jones, 2010 All Rights Reserved, Total-E-Ntwined Limited, T/A Total-E-Bound. Excerpt From: Dreams David Sanders sat in the diner in the podunk town of Robinsville, ready to give up. His alpha had sent him to this rat hole of a town to find Anabella Pouge and bring her back to the pack. When Russell Masters gave an order, you followed it or risked the consequences. Finding Anabella was like searching for a needle in a haystack. No one in town knew anything about her, and when he showed her picture, he caught a vague sense of recognition but nothing firm. He didn?t know if his being a stranger factored into their response and if the town was circling the wagons to protect their own, or if they really didn?t know anything about the woman. David had been in town three days, and he knew he would have to call Russ this morning to inform him of his failure. He?d never let his alpha down before, and being the bearer of bad news left a bad taste in his mouth. Hopefully, Russ would tell him to come home, but David feared that would not be the case. He couldn?t stay in the town much longer. The urge to change to his wolf form rolled over him constantly, but David didn?t want to risk transforming in this unfamiliar place. Frustration at his failure made the urge stronger, and each day he struggled more with the wolf within. Where the hell could she be? David waved the waitress over for a cup a coffee. He pulled his phone from his pocket to call Russ, then he caught a scent in the air?a new fragrance, fresh and musky all at once. It smelled like home and set off a hunger he?d never felt before. He turned, trying to locate the source of the essence. Then he spotted her, and his body went on high alert. The woman made his heart stop. Beautiful didn?t even begin to describe her. The goddess?all curvy and lush?caused his libido to go haywire, making his cock swell and throb. Usually lust didn?t hit him this hard or fast. It had to be the heavenly aroma coming from the woman. She looked to be close to six feet with long, flowing red hair. He wanted to tangle his hands in it and pull her to him for a kiss. He tried to shake it off, but the urge became stronger, almost like a spell compelling him to go to her. When she turned around, their eyes locked. He could easily drown in their liquid, green depths. She blinked, and the spell shattered until her tongue darted out to lick her luscious, red lips. He felt his cock swell even more. Her face turned a beautiful shade of rose. David wondered if she could see the tent his dick created in his pants from looking at her. He got up from his table and took a step forward then hesitated when he noticed her backing away. She slipped out of the diner, but David?s eyes never left her. It appeared he?d found Anabella Pouge.

This book was first released in the Over the Moon Anthology and just recently come out as an individual release.

http://www.total-e-bound.com/product.asp?strParents=&CAT_ID=&P_ID=935

The above link is for the solo book, but if you go to the audio page you can hear a snippet of the story.

Hi!

Here’s a look at two new covers.

Strange Hollow: Seducing a Wallflower ?(Cover by April Martinez) Coming soon to Liquid Silver Books:

Cover for Bedtime Stories:?Inspiration (Cover By Renee George) Coming Soon to Changeling Press April 1st (yes, I know, LOL):

28 Days Tour: Hell?s Angel by Jackie Kessler

Blurb: Where can an angel find comfort? A lonely banished angel sits outside the gates of Paradise, lamenting the joy she has lost. When she is joined by a fallen archangel, she learns that one doesn’t need to be in Heaven to experience bliss.

Hi! I?m Jackie Kessler, and I like to write about demons and angels, among other things. When I heard about the 28 Days of Heart, and that all proceeds would be going to the American Heart Association, I knew I wanted to write a Hell story for it, one that was about connection, and possibly even redemption.

The angel called Angel first appears in my second book, THE ROAD TO HELL, but you don?t need to read it to understand why Angel is alone outside the gates of Paradise…or why she feels so horribly alone. And you don?t need to read the first book, HELL?S BELLES, to know who the archangel is that she meets. (But of course, I hope you **will** read the books!)

?Hell?s Angel? is somewhat of a departure from the Hell on Earth series in that it?s not humorous, it?s not written in first person, and it?s not about the former succubus Jezebel. Whether you?re new to Hell on Earth or if you?ve read all the books and novellas, I think you?ll enjoy the story.

Buy Link:http://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-hellsangel-402743-140.html

Books and stories by Jackie Kessler:

Hell on Earth series:
Hell?s Belles
The Road to Hell
?A Hell of a Time,? Eternal Lover
Hotter than Hell (mass-market reissue coming September 2010)
?When Hell Comes Calling,? Lilith Unbound
?Hell Is Where the Heart Is,? A Red Hot Valentine?s Day
?Hell?s Angel,? 28 Days of Heart
?Hell Bound,? Those Who Fight Monsters (coming fall 2010)
Hell to Pay (date TBA)
?Hell?s Fury,? Mammoth Book of Hot Romance (date TBA)

The Icarus Project series (with Caitlin Kittredge):
Black and White
Shades of Gray (coming June 2010)

Young Adult novels (by Jackie Morse Kessler):
Hunger (coming October 2010)
Rage (coming spring 2011)

Jackie Kessler on the Internet:
http://www.jackiekessler.com
http://www.jackiemorsekessler.com
Deadline Dames: http://www.deadlinedames.com
League of Reluctant Adults: http://reluctantadults.blogspot.com
Twitter: @JackieKessler, @JackieMorseKess
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/jackie.kessler

Mating Rituals

Excerpt-?Staring straight ahead, Marohka Taunton avoided eye contact with every man she passed. Moving along the edge of the dance floor, she wove her way back and forth across the assigned path. Her steps, jerky and clumsy, she hid her natural smooth gait. No man, in his right mind, craved an ungraceful wife. At least, she hoped not.

With the stairs a few steps ahead, she tasted victory and allowed herself a sigh of relief. “Thank goodness.”

A masculine voice in front of her chuckled. “It?s not over yet, princess.”

Marohka paused to inspect the stranger. The laughter reflected in his warm brown eyes?surprised, the intelligent focus?intrigued, and the dark spark of interest?captivated.
A foreign response slithered through her chest. Butterflies fluttered in her stomach. Her heartbeat rang in her ears. Her hands turned clammy. Awareness of the man claimed her senses.

His face, framed by dark brown hair, showed rough lines of strength and fortitude. A crooked nose, a square jaw, and a chiseled chin marked his unique personality. Added together, the sum indicated the man rarely backed down from a fight. He?d stand up for his beliefs and defeat his opponents. His lopsided grin with a dimple at the corner of his mouth teased her.

A silly feature on such a stern face. The little mark claimed her heart and spoke of a rare sense of humor, a trait absent in most men.

A tingle ran down her spine. Her toes curled. Either as an appealing partner or a worthy adversary, the man presented a dangerous combination. Right then, without question, Marohka decided never to cross paths with him again.

“It is for me,” she responded to his comment. She lifted her chin a little higher and repaired the chip in her armor with a sassy comeback. “But you?re welcome to any of the girls behind me. I?m sure they?ll enjoy your charm.”

Marohka lifted her skirt and swept up the stairs. The sound of his laughter spoiled her intended snub.

ISBN:?978-1-935348-58-0
Genres: Fantasy Romance
Book Length: Novel
Heat Level: Spicy
Find at?www.amirapress.com my website?www.tinagayle.net

This is the second story I?ve written with these characters.The first can be seen at Fiction with Friction, called Obsession.

*******************

The mouthwatering scent of traditional Thanksgiving fare mingled with the moist, fruity scent from his shower as Ferris emerged from the bathroom. Hesitant, he stepped into Max?s bedroom, letting his eyes adjust to the darker room as he draped his towel over the back of a cushiony indigo settee. ?Sir, aren?t we going out??

?We are. Later.? His master set a small platter of turkey meat amidst the array of the food dishes that sat at one end of the long, sturdy table Max usually used for drafting or cutting fabric. The table had once been a fine, dark wood dining table and this afternoon its normal covering was gone so it could serve as one as well, although the setting was noticeably lopsided with all the food at one end and just a single, incomplete place setting at the other. ?But first, you and I must eat.? Max busied himself with lighting the candelabra set in the center. ?You know how those people are. The food there will be scarce if present at all.?

True. They were due to have Thanksgiving with a group of friends from work, most of whom were militantly image-conscious. Ferris had worried what might be served for dinner, sure that the normal fattening foods would be out. Leave it to Max to take care of him.

Ferris smiled, enjoying Max?s good mood. They had been dating just a little under a month, almost inseparable since Ferris had proclaimed himself on Halloween. It had taken a lot of nerve and some help from a friend, but Ferris considered the night he?d worn that sexy white rabbit costume and opened up to Max, who had been dressed as the Queen of Hearts, the best night of his life. Although, many of his nights with Max since had been the stuff of his fantasies as well. He?d discovered that the man with whom he?d been obsessed for three years had turned out to not only be sexy as hell and an astoundingly inventive lover, but he was also personable and surprisingly down-to-earth. Strange to find in a man who was a star designer of clothing and more. He looked so exotic with brown slanted eyes, slim, androgynous face and an abundant cascade of rich raven hair, but he had a wicked sense of humor and something about him just made you trust him. Well, made Ferris trust him, at any rate.

Ferris waited while Max finished what he was doing, completely comfortable with being naked. It?s how Max preferred him and Ferris couldn?t deny the thrill he got when those dark eyes watched him. The only ?clothing? Max insisted on was the fitted white collar Ferris now wore to show the world who he belonged to, which Ferris wore with pride. Truthfully, he preferred Max to be naked as well, but he didn?t mind the shimmery black silk drawstring pants that Max now wore. Besides, he wore nothing else, his slim, toned torso gleaming in the light from perhaps two dozen candles lit about the periphery of the room. His long hair was pulled into a loose tail that banded between his sharp shoulder blades and his face was bare of the cosmetics he would apply for going out into the public. The setting was intimate. Cherished. Ferris felt that he belonged.

Max finished lighting the candles and set down the Zippo. He poured a glass of red wine, sipped from it, then set it beside the plate-less place setting at the end of the table with the chair. Smiling, he held out a hand to Ferris. ?Come, bunny.?

Ferris went gladly, taking the extended hand and stepping into the warmth of his master?s personal space.

Max smiled down at him, gazing lovingly at his face. ?Hungry??

?Yes.? Ferris let his gaze tell Max that he was hungry for more than just food.

Chuckling softly, Max brushed his lips over Ferris?s brow, the tip of his nose, then his lips but that was all. He stepped toward the table and patted the plate-less setting. ?Up you go.?

?Me??

?Yes.?

Ferris?s cock had begun to fill when he stepped out of the bathroom to see Max?s preparations. It swelled even more as he started to get an inkling of what Max had in mind. Max helped hoist him up until his butt sat in the middle of the placemat. ?Good.? Max picked up a pair of heavy, gilded candlesticks and held them out to Ferris. ?Here.?

Curious but willing, Ferris took them.

?Now.? Max picked up his engraved Zippo and used it to light the red candles stuck in the holders. ?You will hold these and you will not let the flames go out. Understand??

Ferris eyed the thick tapers and tested the weight of the candlesticks. Each one of them had to be a good pound. ?Yes, sir.?

?Good, bunny.?

?Sir??

Max set the Zippo down. ?Yes??

He was pretty sure he already knew the answer to his question but it didn?t hurt to get confirmation. Max rarely discouraged questions. ?How will I eat??

Max smiled, reaching up to cup Ferris?s jaw to tilt his head back. ?I will feed you.?

Ferris whimpered as Max took his lips in a deliciously involved kiss. He clutched the candlesticks, thankful they were so thick and heavy that they wouldn?t bend in his grip. He drank in Max?s taste, a little frustrated that he couldn?t touch his master?s skin. But he knew Max would make it worth it. Not once had he left Ferris remotely unsatisfied. When Max drew his lips away, Ferris left his head tilted back, eyes closed, lips parted, knowing that this look often encouraged Max into more kissing.

But this time a thumb swiped over his lower lip. ?I could eat you up.? He laughed softly as he stepped back. ?But, perhaps, we should try some of the excellent fare I?ve ordered.? He took a sip of wine, offered one to Ferris, then set the glass down and headed for the food at the other end of the table. ?You may set the candles down if you wish. Just don?t let go and don?t let the flames go out.?

Thankful, Ferris let the wide, solid bases clunk on the tabletop to either side of the placemat, wary of the flickering flames at the tips of the tapers. He glanced over his shoulder and watched Max fill a small plate with bites of food. He used his fingers rather than the utensils that sat among the platters. Ferris shivered in anticipation every time Max sucked his fingers clean.

?We won?t get anything like this tonight,? Max mused as he made his selections. ?I imagine there?ll be an overabundance of tofu and raw vegetables.? He rolled his eyes. ?Not that both don?t have their place, but this is Thanksgiving.?

Ferris smiled, relieved to hear it. Max was just as body conscious as any of his co-workers, but daily, rigorous morning workouts and a natural high metabolism kept him sleek and toned.

?Do you like dark meat, Ferris?? Max purred, returning to his place between Ferris?s knees.

Ferris focused on the long, elegant fingers that dunked a juicy bit of turkey into thick, dark gravy. ?It?s my favorite, sir.?

?Me too.? He lifted the bite to Ferris?s lips and slid it in when Ferris opened up. ?Although, there is something to be said for white meat.?

Ferris grinned, chewing as Max fed himself a bite of turkey, getting the dark versus white meat reference. He had decided that Max was at least partially East Indian, his skin tone well beyond olive and approaching mahogany brown. Ferris himself could not be more pure, Nordic white from the pale pink tips of his toes to the natural platinum blond of his hair. The two of them were a study in opposites, a fact that Ferris treasured. Max seemed to appreciate it as well.

Meat grease and gravy covered Max?s fingers as he fed Ferris another bite. This time, he let the tips of his fingers linger, allowing Ferris to lap at them. ?I happen to enjoy traditional Thanksgiving fare. My mother used to love cooking Thanksgiving dinner and it was the one time she allowed us to help.?

Ferris lit up. ?You helped cook??

Max chuckled, licking his fingers clean. ?I did.? He picked up the glass of wine that sat by Ferris?s hip. ?I was in charge of mashing potatoes and making pies.?

Delighted at this peek into Max?s past, Ferris sipped the wine he was offered. ?How old were you??

Bemused, Max set down the glass after Ferris declined a sip and scooped up fluffy, garlic-scented mashed potatoes onto three fingers. ?Oh, that was from about the time I was six until I was twelve.? He offered the fingers and potatoes to Ferris and watched as it disappeared into his mouth. ?Do you like??

Ferris let his eyes roll and hummed. ?Very much. Did you make this??

?Oh no.? It looked like real regret in those dark eyes. ?You know very well I don?t have time to cook.?

?I could cook for you.?

Max considered him as he had some potatoes himself. ?Could you now??

They continued eating, talking of favorite Thanksgivings gone by. Ferris brimmed with joy at being allowed to see this personal side of his lover. In the few weeks they?d been dating, most of their relationship had consisted of seduction, sex and pillow talk. Max was usually too busy for much else. Ferris understood but it made this leisure time all the more special.

He almost forgot he was naked. Until Max dropped a greasy tidbit of meat into his lap. They both looked down at it, a small scrap of brown that left an oil and gravy trail over the pale skin of Ferris?s belly and landed on his thigh, right by his cock.

Max grinned as he put aside his small plate of food. ?Oops.? He planted a hand in the center of Ferris?s chest and nudged him back.

Swallowing, Ferris leaned back until his was propped on his elbows, fists tight around the candlesticks he faithfully held.? Now he knew why Max had left this half of the table devoid of food. Meantime, Max placed his hands on Ferris?s thighs and leaned in to pick up the turkey with his teeth. Ferris could no more help the whimper that bled from his throat than he could the jump of his cock at the nearness of its master.

?Mmmm.? Max licked up the gravy trail beside Ferris?s navel. ?It tastes better this way.?

With a wicked smile, he rounded the table to procure another handful of turkey. He set most of the warm meat on Ferris?s belly. After feeding Ferris a tidbit, he trailed another bite toward Ferris?s groin, very careful to avoid the filling red cock. Ferris tried to watch, tried not to squirm, tried to be a good plate as Max alternately nipped up pieces of turkey and lapped at his skin. He obediently opened his mouth when Max offered him a bite but he didn?t really taste anything, far too focused on the attention Max lavished on him. Mashed potatoes came next, piled at the apex of his groin so Max had to nuzzle in to get his freshly trimmed pubic hair clean. Grease, gravy and butter got all over Max?s cheeks and chin but he didn?t seem to mind. Ferris would never look at a green bean the same way again after the way Max used them to trace patterns on his belly, thigh and even his balls.

?Are you full yet, bunny?? Max asked, voice muffled as he lapped the stalk of Ferris?s cock. He?d yet to touch the tip in anyway but his wayward attentions had brought Ferris full to bursting.

?Y-yes, sir.?

Max suckled one of his testicles. ?Don?t you have room for dessert??

Ferris?s eyes went wide. ?I don?t know.?

?Mmm, we?ll see about that.?

Ferris groaned, willingly bending his knee at Max?s prompting so his heel rested on the edge of the table. It opened his crotch more, allowing Max better access to that sensitive space behind his balls and the greedy little pucker beneath. Max lapped and suckled him, driving him crazy. Ferris cried out, giving his master his voice, knowing that Max needed to hear his enjoyment. He only barely remembered to keep a death grip on the candlesticks.

?Don?t move,? Max advised, standing.

Ferris watched him round the table, glad to see that the black silk pants were tented. At least he wasn?t the only one on edge.

Max returned with a pumpkin pie.

?Sir??

?Yes.?

Max chuckled, picked up the dinner knife and set the pie tin on Ferris?s belly. Ferris hissed at the jolt of cool metel but it? warmed almost instantly. He watched Max slice the pie completely, then set the knife aside. He picked up a slice and the canister of whipped cream Ferris hadn?t seen him place.

Cream fizzed out onto creamy orange brown goodness. ?Do you like pumpkin pie, bunny??

?Yes.?

?You?re not just saying that to make me happy??

?No, sir.?

?Good boy.? Max brought the pie to Ferris?s lips, leaving him no choice but to take a bite.

Spicy sweet exploded on his tongue. He groaned, chewing as Max took a bite himself.

?Oh yes, that?s delicious.? He shared the slice with Ferris, bite after bite, until that first piece was gone. He waited until Ferris swallowed before picking up the second slice. ?You?ll have to forgive me. I?m going to have to eat this one by myself.?

Eyes wide, mouth open in shock, Ferris watched Max upend the slice and smear it over his cock. The pie itself was just a little colder than room temperature but it might as well have been ice for the jolt it sent through Ferris. Creamy custard coated his shaft and a patch of his belly as well. Some even melded onto his balls. Max took a moment to admire the mess, then he added a healthy dose of whipped cream up the line of Ferris?s cock.

?Mmmm.? He set aside the whipped cream. ?I don?t believe I?ve ever seen pie look more scrumptious.? Calmly, he reached behind him to pull the chair up to the table. ?I?ll bet it tastes even better.?

?Oh God!?

Ferris?s leg fell to the side, his heel still on the edge of the table, as Max dove in. He took his time lapping at every bit of the mess he?d made. Finally, the tip of Ferris?s cock found its way into the heat of Max?s mouth, mixed in amongst fluffy pie and melting cream. Ferris held on, held back. The solid bases of the candlesticks rattled in his shaky grip. He never wanted this to end but knew that he wouldn?t last much longer. Especially not when Max?s slick fingers toyed with his anus then boldly slid home.

Ferris?s head fell back. ?Ungh! Max? I?m? can I???

Max had one hand wrapped around the base of Ferris?s cock while the fingers of the other toyed with that spot inside his body that was guaranteed to melt his brain. ?Come for me, bunny.?

Ferris was nothing if not obedient. No sooner had Max?s lips closed around his tip than his body convulsed, his balls drew up and hot cum rushed out of him. Max kept his lips open, catching most of it but allowing a good amount to dribble back down Ferris?s shaft to mingle with the other stickiness that coated the younger man?s skin. Then, just to extend Ferris?s exquisite torture, he slowly lapped at cock, belly and groin until he?d cleaned most of the mess. By then, Ferris?s back was flush on the table, candlesticks held in a loose grip as he stared dazedly at the ceiling.

?Mmmm. A most excellent dessert,? Max declared, standing.

Ferris glanced down and his attention snared on Max?s hands as they drew the tie of his drawstring pants. Max?s cock emerged, full and flush, and like Pavlov?s dog, Ferris salivated.

Max let the pants fall and reached for the bottle of wine. ?Well, done, bunny. You even managed to keep hold of the candlesticks.? Unconcerned with his hard on, he poured the rest of the liquid into the glass and drank. ?You may let them go now, bunny.? Max held the half empty glass over Ferris?s chest. ?Have a drink.?

Slowly, still dazed from his orgasm, Ferris pried his fingers from the candlesticks and sat up. Rather than reach for the glass, he braced on his arms and parted his lips. Max?s dark smile was worth the submission. He placed the rim of the glass at Ferris?s lips and tilted the liquid into his mouth.

?You are perfection, my sweet,? he murmured as Ferris drank. ?What did I do to deserve you??

Ferris licked his lips as Max drew the glass away. His attention immediately fell to Max?s upthrust cock. ?I don?t? I?m not??

Max?s hands came up to cup his head, tilting his face up. ?Shhh.? Lips pressed to lips, parted to allow tongues to play. ?And now,? Max murmured over Ferris?s lips, ?for the digestif.?

Ferris asked before he could think to stop. ?A what??

?You?ve heard of an ap?ritif? A drink before dinner?? Max took a step back, holding out his hand and nodding to indicate Ferris should hop down.

Ferris obeyed. ?Yes.?

Max sat on the wide, solid chair, still holding Ferris?s hand. ?A digestif is a drink after dinner. Or –? he tugged Ferris?s hand and guided him to kneel on the chair, straddling his lap, ?– in this case, an after dinner treat.?

Ferris was all for that. He willingly adjusted under Max?s guidance until he was exactly where Max wanted him. The same place he wanted to be: with Max?s cock bumping hard and promising against the crack of his ass. He clutched the sturdy back of the chair as Max used one of his hands to spread Ferris?s cheeks while the other pressed his cock to Ferris?s entrance.

Max kissed at his neck as his fingers tested Ferris?s hole. ?Let me in, bunny?? Max murmured right above Ferris?s white collar.

?Always,? Ferris sighed, amazing Max even felt the need to ask.

His entrance stretched and squeezed, taking Max in one slow glide. Once Max?s cock was fully seated, Max?s hands began to roam, stroking Ferris?s back and buttocks. Ferris knew that sign. He was to take over. Clutching the back of the chair, he made good use of his thigh muscles to pull himself up and mostly off Max?s cock before sliding back down. Soon enough, he got used to the position and found a groove, fucking himself on Max?s cock, with Max?s murmured encouragement. His own cock was spent but tried to rally as he worked Max toward orgasm. He adored the way Max groaned, how he grew louder, how his caresses grew rough and his nails scraped the skin of Ferris?s back. Ferris whimpered, striving to move faster, wanting Max to tumble over that brink into ecstasy and know that he took him there.

When Max stopped him he obeyed but cried out in dismay. Not wanting to lose that heated warmth inside him.

?Shhh, bunny, stand up.?

No sooner was he on his feet than Max spun him around, bending him over the edge of the table. They both cried out as Max shoved back in, nailing Ferris?s g-spot with a force to send tingles racing through his limbs. The table was a little too tall for Ferris. His toes barely touched the carpet as Max pinned him to the table and began to truly fuck him. Crying in gorgeous agony, Ferris clutched the sides of the table and begged his master for more. Max draped his heated body over Ferris?s back, tangling fingers in his hair to pull his head aside. Ferris adored the clamp of lips and teeth to his neck, wishing Max were a vampire so he could drink Ferris dry. Ferris was quite sure he could die happily on the spot.

The table shook, platters bouncing as Max pounded into him. The wine glass tipped, rolled and toppled to the floor. One of Ferris?s candlesticks fell over into the remains of the turkey platter. Neither man could have cared less.

?God. Ferris.? Ferris knew that sound, knew Max was close.

?Yours. Always. Max.?

The words might have done it. Or it might have been coincidence. Regardless, Max grunted, keened softly, then tensed as he came deep inside Ferris?s body.

Ferris slumped on the table, spent, wrecked and ecstatic. Max braced on elbows above him, breathing heavily, the weight of his tail of hair draping his arm, Ferris?s arm and the table. He kissed the back of Ferris?s neck, shoulder, ear.

?Are you all right, bunny??

?Mmmmm.?

?Mmm. You need another shower. And so do I.?

?Yes, sir.?

Max twined his fingers with Ferris?s. ?Up.?

It took a little time, but soon Ferris was standing on wobbly legs, arms wrapped around Max?s slim waist.

Max stroked white hair back from his face. ?I?m thankful for you this year, bunny. You are the light of my life.?

A grin split Ferris?s face. ?I?m very thankful for you too, sir.? Before he could add an ?I love you? Max?s mouth closed on his. Max was not yet comfortable with the words. He thought it too soon. But Ferris knew. This thing between them could be nothing other than love.

As far back as junior high, Jet used to write sex stories for friends involving their favorite pop icons of the time. To this day, she hasn?t stopped writing sex, although her knowledge on the subject has vastly improved.

An ardent fan of fantasy and science fiction sagas, Jet prefers to live in a world of imagination where dragons are real, elves are commonplace, vampires are just people with special diets and lycanthropes live next door. In her own mind, she?s the spunky heroine who gets the best of everyone and always attracts the lean, muscular lads. She aids this fantasy with visuals created through her other obsession: 3D graphic art. In this area, as in writing, Jet?s self-taught and thoroughly entranced, and now regularly uses this art to illustrate her stories or her stories to expand upon her art. Only recently, through the wonders of the digital age, has Jet, a self-proclaimed hermit, been able to really share this work with others.

In real life, Jet lives in southern California with her boyfriend of over a decade, his daughter and father and too many cats. She has a bachelor?s degree in acting, but her loathing of auditions has kept her out of the limelight. So she turned to computers and currently works in product management for a software company, because even in real life, she can?t help but want to create something out of nothing.

Good morning everyone. My name is Stevie Jones. I?m also one of the ladies from the Cougar Challenge. My story is called Sin on Skin and was penned by Mari Freeman. As you know, the cougars all met up and became friends at a conference and have blogged together ever since.? Well, Monica and I have been friends for a long while before that. We both work for a large corporation in North Carolina. She?s the one who dragged me into all this younger man stuff. My task today is to interview Mari Freeman. But first I wanted to thank Selena for having us. It?s been a lot of fun doing these interviews.

Stevie: So, Mari. Do you do all the things in this book in your real life?

Mari: LOL. Um?no. I seem to get that question a lot. I think it?s very common for people to think that just because I write about something, it?s something I do.

Stevie: But, you were an executive with a large company before you quit corporate life and started writing erotic books. And you are a rather Type A, take charge kind of girl.

Mari: Executive might be pushing it, but I was in management for a telecom corporation and a project manager. As for take charge, I?m a red-headed, Irish female. What can I say? But, I am not Stevie.

Stevie: Prove it.

Mari: Pushy little thing, aren?t you. Fine. You got a tattoo in this story. I don?t have one. You have a longing for younger men. My man is a year older than I am.

Stevie: Yeah. But he looks ten years younger than you, so he counts as a younger man. Qualifies as cougar to me.

Mari: Enough about that. Ask me something about the story. This is supposed to be about the story, not me.

Stevie: Can?t stand the heat, huh? Okay. Where did you find the inspiration for the extremely sexy Errol?

Mari: That one?s easy. The artist who did my younger man?s tattoo was named Errol. I told Errol when I met him that I?d use him in a story some day. He didn?t look exactly like your Errol, but he was a very interesting person. Errol?s looks were for Samantha Kane. The book and the hero are dedicated to her.

Stevie: So you and Samantha are friends like Monica and I are in the book?

Mari: That?s right.

Stevie: I told you.

Mari: Told me what?

Stevie: Stevie, me?I am part of you.

Mari: Well, yes. But not in the direct way you?re insinuating. Every one of my characters has some of me in them. They have to. I have to be able to connect at some base level with each character to make you real. I have to find some bit of them real.

Stevie: So does that translate to the sex scenes?

Mari: Stevie Jones. Quit trying to make this interview about my sex life. We wrote this story about you and your discovery of a hot younger tattoo artist. You?re the one who went out on a limb and experimented with the Dom and his playroom full of toys and furniture- Not me. Why don?t you put up the excerpt now and say thanks to Selena for having us?

Stevie: Fine. Sin on Skin is the Sixth book in the Cougar series, but isn?t out yet. To find out more about the books and the fabulous characters and authors, go towww.TempttheCougar.com. You?ll get all the info on when each book is ready. Thank you for having us, Selena! It?s been fun giving Mari such a hard time.

For more from Mari Freeman, go to www.marifreeman.com

Sin on Skin Excerpt, coming soon to Ellora?s Cave www.JasmineJade.com

?So, what is it Stevie needs??

She wasn?t sure what to say. Wasn?t sure how to verbalize it. She tried to think back to the characters in the stories and what had most appealed to her from their experiences. What had made her so hot?

?Honesty will get you exactly what you want. Maybe not exactly how you thought you wanted it, but the truth will help you.?

His voice made her want a lot of things. But how did she say what she wanted without sounding like a slut? She took another drink

?I want to be completely sexual, with no hangs-up, no fears.? She looked at the floor. ?No accountability for the success of the experience. I want to be the object of the experience. I want sex to feel like something other than a chore.?

?You want to be a slut?? He walked past her, not looking her over yet, no judgment in his voice. ?You want your body to be the instrument of pleasure for others? Is it that simple? We can start there.?

She looked down. He was right, of course. It wasn?t that simple, but he?d given her something to play with.

?Say it for me, Stevie. Tell me what you want.?

She took a deep breath. Yes. That was exactly what she wanted to be. ?I want to be a slut.?

In no particular hurry, he turned to her. A wily smile came across his face. His eyes moved hungrily up her body, stopping at her chest. She held the glass in both hands so her arms were covering her breasts His glance darted to her eyes and he expectantly raised his eyebrows. It was an unspoken order. Stevie dropped her hands to her side.

?That?s my girl.?

The praise was for more than simply anticipating his demand, it was for her appearance.? His eyes were heated and his jaw tense. This young, hot man was not looking at her as if she were old or skinny. It was clear Errol liked what he saw.

?Through the next door is the playroom. We?ll start with a little intro to submission for you, my executive slut. That?s what you want? To be played with and used and have no need to moralize or worry about internal inhibitions? For me to take the responsibility for you being a dirty girl??

He pushed open the door to her right. She walked past him into the next room and he pointed to a small bench at the far end. ?Walk to the bench. Bend over it and put your hands by the cuffs.?

Stevie was surprised at her lack of fear. The fact that he was fully clothed and standing there watching her as she walked away almost naked was so sexy. It made her feel sexy. She couldn?t remember ever feeling particularly sexy when she was naked.

The room was dim and larger than she?d anticipated. The walls were dark, with near life-sized photos of nude, highly tattooed men and women every six feet or so. A couple of long racks with lots of hooks holding the tools of Errol?s nighttime trade graced the walls on opposite sides of the room. Light flickered from artificial candles in sconces on the walls. The sensual lighting made her skin look warm and inviting.

She strutted without looking back, glancing at the unusual furnishings placed around the room. Some she recognized from her favorite erotic stories. There were three different benches for various spanking positions. In the far corner was a large St. Andrews Cross. She passed a tall metal cage and a swing that hung from the ceiling, and every piece of equipment had plenty of space around it. There were beanbag chairs and large wedge-shaped cushions scattered everywhere. She figured when this place was full, it could accommodate close to fifty people.

She stopped at the bench Errol had indicated. It was almost waist high and at least three feet in depth?to support her upper body, she guessed?with a kneeling platform at the base. Like most of the equipment, soft black leather covered both the bench and the platform. Supple green-leather cuffs were attached to chains fastened to the edge of the bench farthest from her. Stevie bent forward. Her naked stomach shivered from the cold of the leather as she lowered to rest her head on the bench. Her arms reached out in front of her and her hands hung over the far side of the bench, next to the cuffs. Her legs had naturally spread to avoid the kneeling platform, her feet firmly planted on either side. Her ass was open and exposed and so was her pussy.

Music started playing in the background, but she still heard Errol?s approach from behind. ?Now, tomorrow night,? he said as he moved in front of her and knelt so they would be eye to eye, ?there?ll be a party here.?

He?d removed his shirt. Stevie looked over his muscled chest and could now see the entire tribal design. It covered his left shoulder and snaked across his chest, appearing alive and moving in the low lighting. She caught the smell of fresh soap. ?This room will be full of players and voyeurs.? He buckled the first cuff on her small wrist and looked her over with hungry eyes. As he spoke, he ran his fingers down her free arm. The gentleness of his touch made her wonder if the books about all this had been correct.

He got the second buckle latched and tested the chains with a little tug. ?How are you, Stevie?? He looked her in the eye. The lengths of chain allowed her to reach far enough forward to touch the design on his shoulder as he knelt in front of her.

?I?m okay,? she said as she traced one of the designs. Okay was an understatement. She felt the leather of the cuffs on her wrists and it was as if, by fastening those simple restraints, Errol had set her free of all her hangs-ups. She didn?t care if her boobs were too small or if she was over forty. Laugh lines didn?t matter here. She didn?t care about budgeting initiatives or maintaining quality testing standards. She wanted his hands on her now.

Mari Freeman Bio:

Mari Freeman lives, disguised as a normal suburbanite, in central North Carolina. When not penning romantic erotica, she enjoys horses, hiking, traveling, good food and friends. An outdoors girl at heart, you can often find her by the pond with laptop fired up, fishing line in the water, and her imagination running wild.

In her previous lives, she has held an interesting array of occupations. She?s been a project manager, a software testing manager, sold used cars, pumped gas at a truck stop and worked in a morgue.

Mari?s favorite stories include Alpha females in love with even more Alpha males, finding the clash of passionate, strong willed personalities fascinating. She writes contemporary, paranormal, and a little science fiction/fantasy.

Find her on facebook -?www.facebook.com/marifreeman – ?follow her on Twitter @marifreeman

Hi there everyone. I?m Rachel Bridges, the protagonist in Mari Carr?s erotic romance book,?Assume the Positions. I?m here today with the author and she?s agreed to talk with us about why she decided to write my story. Welcome Mari.

Mari: Hi Rachel. Thanks for inviting me.

Rachel: I think the question that is first and foremost on everyone?s minds is ?Why cougars??

Mari: Well, I have to admit with Ciana Stone approached me about participating in the anthology I was a bit worried about what I would write. I?ve never penned a story based on a May/December romance. I immediately starting thinking of a premise, trying to decide what my cougar lady did for a living, where she?d been and what had driven her to search for a younger man. Then?pow?you were born!

Rachel: And I?m so glad I was. The hero of my story is Ethan and I just want to say a big thank you for making him so hot! He?s an injured cop who comes to me for physical therapy. Is Ethan based on anyone you know in real life?

Mari: He is a compilation of a bunch of young male teachers who work at my high school. They?re a great group of guys and on occasion, we all go out for happy hour. I?m a relentless eavesdropper and line-stealer! I?m always listening to conversations and there are actually a couple lines in the book that the guys said that I thought were funny, so I used them.

Rachel: I noticed that you used a lot of humor in?Assume the Positions. Ethan and I spend a lot of time joking around and laughing.

Mari: I?ve always incorporated humor in my books, but I will confess that with your story I was working toward writing a true romantic comedy. I hope the readers will find it funny!

Rachel: A great deal of the sex scenes in the story revolve around the Kama Sutra. Where on earth did you get that idea?

Mari: I like to bounce my story ideas around with a group of writer friends. As I was discussing the budding relationship between Ethan and Rachel, one gal, Jambrea suggested that Rachel use Kama Sutra positions in her treatment of Ethan?s injury. She was sort of joking and we laughed, but the idea stuck. Next thing I know, Ethan?s giving Rachel a copy of the book and telling her to pick out her favorite positions.

Rachel: There are other characters in the book as well. What is their role in the story?

Mari: Part of the premise Ciana suggested with the anthology was that a group of older women meet and become friends at Romanticon. Through their conversations, they discover they all have a passion for cougar books. When they return home, they create a blog?a place where they can go to chat about their everyday lives as well as share some of their wildest fantasies. One night, Monica dares the ladies to put their money where their mouth is. Stop fantasizing and start living the dream. Next thing they know?the Cougar Challenge is born.

Rachel: And am I correct in saying that this blog you mention really exists?

Mari: Yes, it?s up and running and ready for some visitors to come and share the cougar love! The link is http://temptthecougar.blogspot.com/

Rachel: Can you share an excerpt from Assume the Positions?

Mari: I?d love to!

Excerpt

?Potential Younger Men for Cougar Challenge??

She prayed to God he didn?t know what the concept ?cougar? stood for. She?d only learned of the term while reading her erotic romance novels. She?d been shocked to discover how much the idea of an older woman hooking up with a younger man turned her on, pushed her hot buttons.

?It?s just something silly, something stupid really. Give me back my notebook and we?ll get started on your exercises.?

He ignored her and she watched as he scanned the list of names. When he closed the book with a snap, she flinched at the unfamiliar look on his face. She?d never seen him look so serious or?angry. ?What are you doing, Rachel? What the hell is this list about??

She took a step back, confused by his reaction. Over the course of the past two months, she?d felt a friendship forming between her and the young cop. As a result, she found her fears, her anxiety over the challenge falling from her lips, uncontrolled. Even though she was sure she was making a mistake, she told him everything?from meeting her friends at the conference to the blog to the dare to sleep with a younger man. She didn?t leave out a single detail and through her entire confession, Ethan was quiet. In the end, it was his silence that unnerved her more than his initial anger.

?So there,? she said at last. ?That should keep you busy in the teasing department for months. I?m an insane, horny-as-hell woman who?s actually contemplating throwing herself at a younger man as part of a dare. And before you say anything, yes, I know?I?m old enough to know better.? She walked away from him as she said the last, too embarrassed to see what he was truly thinking written on his face.

She?d only made it two steps when he reached out and gripped her forearm, turning her back around. ?Old enough to know better?? he asked. ?You think you couldn?t land a younger guy??

?Maybe I could,? she said, surprised to find him taking this conversation so seriously. ?I mean I don?t think I?m unattractive, just sort of ?out of practice? with the whole dating scene.?

Ethan grinned and she spied the usual mischievous sparkle in his gaze she?d grown accustomed to over the past few weeks. ?Wish you?d mentioned this horny problem of yours earlier, Rach.?

?It?s not something a polite woman advertises,? she said.

He continued pulling her toward him until they stood face to face, close enough that she could smell his skin, a pleasant combination of fresh shower, soap, and?yummy?man. Rather than look up, she stared straight ahead, placing her line of vision at the top of his chest. There was no way she could look at his handsome face and not spend the rest of their session imagining him naked. He wore a tight T-shirt and she could just imagine what his bare?sculpted in smooth skin?pecs would look like. She swallowed heavily, her mouth watering at the sight.

?Isn?t that a shame?? Ethan added. ?Advertisements like that sure would take a lot of the guess work out of dating.?

?I haven?t been doing a lot of dating since my divorce from Voldemort.?

?Mm hmm.? She watched his throat move in response to her words and felt certain if she hadn?t been standing so closely, she wouldn?t have heard the small, guttural sound?a growl??that emanated from him. Did it make him angry to hear her mention her ex?

?Look at me, Rachel,? he said as she felt his gaze bore through the top of her head.

?I am,? she said, her eyes remaining locked in place, several inches below his chin.

He reached down and gently forced her head back with firm fingers at her jaw. She took a deep breath and faced him. His head was cocked to the side, his lips painfully close to hers. An impractical woman would lean forward and initiate a kiss. A woman without any common sense would rise up on her tiptoes, close the gap separating them and take a nice, long taste of him. An adventurous woman?her mouth stroked his briefly, and her mind struggled to understand how he?d gotten close enough for that touch. She was certain he hadn?t moved.

Her lips brushed his again, but rather than move away, she continued to push closer.

Rachel: I?m afraid that?s all we have time for. Is there anything else you?d like to add or share?

Mari: I?d love to put in a quick plug for my other Ellora?s Cave series, Wild Irish. Book one, Come Monday, releases on November 6. You can find a blurb, excerpt and see the cover here -http://www.jasminejade.com/ps-7770-50-come-monday.aspx.? I?d also like to invite folks to check out my new and improved website. I?ve done a bit of rearranging of the furniture and I?m tickled to death with the results. You can find it at www.maricarr.com.

Bio:

Some people fall apart on their thirtieth birthday, others on their fortieth.??For Mari Carr, thirty-four was the year that took her down.??After she spent the day crying and saying, ?I haven?t done anything I thought I would,? her husband finally asked what was left undone.??Her answer was simple?she hadn?t written a book or decorated her house.???So do it,? he said.

Six years later, the house is sparkling with fresh paint and new furniture and her computer is jammed full of stories?novels, novellas, short stories, and dead-ends.??The lesson:??it?s never too late to achieve a goal or two!

High school librarian by day and mother of two teenagers, Mari Carr found her time for writing by squeezing it into the hours between 3 a.m. and daybreak when her family is asleep and the house is quiet.

Website: www.maricarr.com

Blog: http://internationalheat.wordpress.com

Hi! My name is Monica Allen and I’d like to thank Selena for letting me guest blog today. **waving at Selena**

Today I’m interviewing Samantha Kane. Sam writes erotic romance for Ellora’s Cave. She’s got an historical series called Brothers In Arms, about veterans of the Peninsular War, as well as a WWII and a science fiction romance. But what I really want to talk to her about is her new contemporary story, Play It Again, Sam, part of the new multi-author series Cougar Challenge. You see, that book is about ME. Yep, that’s right. It’s about my very own personal cougar romance.

Let’s start at the beginning, which was RomantiCon, Ellora’s Cave’s recent convention. I met a group of ladies there, standing at the bar ogling the gorgeous EC cover models, and we bonded. And one of the things we bonded over was our love of younger men. Let’s face it, they’re sexy as hell, have stamina out the ying yang, and are just plain fun to look at. Especially without their clothes. (See examples below.)

Together we started a blog called Tempt The Cougar. I know, isn’t that a great name? And we like to post eye candy and lament the lack of younger men, and romance in general, in our lives. Well, we used to do that. Until I challenged all of my friends, myself included, to go out there and find a younger man to fulfill our fantasies. Having issued the challenge, I felt it was my duty to get the ball rolling. So with a vague, and in hindsight not very good plan, I set out to find a younger man. Not the man of my dreams, just a likely prospect for some incredibly hot sex. Guess what? I found that and more!! LOL

So I posted about my adventures at Tempt The Cougar and the very next day I heard from none other than Samantha Kane. Wanting to know if she could write my story. Was she kidding?! Needless to say I jumped on that idea. Not just because the whole story is funny, and extremely sexy, but because I wanted other women my age, (I’m 38 by the way), to know that there is life after divorce, or at 40 (I’m close enough to count.)

Sam:  Um, hello? I thought this was supposed to be an interview about me.

Monica: Well, I had to give them some background, didn’t I? They have no flipping clue who I am, after all.

Sam: Okaaayyy. So, first question?

Monica:   How old are you?

Sam:  What? **thunks head on desk** I have that posted right on my website, you know. I’m forty-two.

Monica:  Oh, man. What was that like, the dreaded 4-0?

Sam:  No biggee. Seriously. I was like, so what, I’m forty. Big deal. I didn’t feel any different than I did at 39. But then I hit forty-one. And suddenly I was IN MY FORTIES. That was the tough one.

Monica:  So that’s when you became obsessed with younger men?

Sam:  I what? Wait a minute! You’re the one with a younger boyfriend, not me. My husband of thirteen years is 10 months older than I am. Not that I don’t find some younger men attractive, but I’ve always been a sucker for weathered and experienced. I’ll still take Bruce Willis and Jimmy Buffett over any younger man out there.

Monica:  Wow. You don’t get out much, do you?

Sam:  Excuse me?

Monica:  I mean, as soon as I walked into that bar and saw Sam I felt like I’d been hit smack right between the eyes by a wall of gorgeous. Hot, blond, young, built, with a world-class ass. You don’t see that on your average geezer.

Sam:  You are so incredibly shallow I’m embarrassed for you.

Monica:  Right back at ya. But seriously, I was tongue-tied. And then he introduced himself and we talked for hours and I realized he was more than just an incredibly hot guy. He has the total package, you know? Funny, sweet, good-looking, smart, and holy mackerel is he a master of the bedroom arts. Whew!

Sam:  You are completely unfamiliar with the notion of TMI, aren’t you?

Monica:  You know, Sam, for an erotic romance writer you’re pretty white bread. Tell us about that.

Sam:  Well, I grew up in the mid-west, the youngest of four kids. I had your typical, fairytale, white bread, wholesome upbringing. My parents are still wringing their hands over what went wrong.   I was always breaking tradition and ignoring boundaries, and when I began writing romance I naturally gravitated toward erotic romance. But you’re right. I am a little bit conservative for an erotic romance writer. Which may sound kind of funny, since I’ve written mostly ménage up to this point.

Monica:  Um, Sam, in case you’ve forgotten, my story is a ménage, too.

Sam:  Well, yes it is Monica. Although, Sam and Josh do not have a physical relationship, which makes your story slightly different from my Brothers In Arms, for instance, which is m/m/f. Sam and Josh were hotter than the sidewalk in July when they took you to bed and fulfilled your fantasies, however. You are one very lucky woman.

Monica:  And don’t I know it! But it was always Sam for me, from the very start. Josh is an absolute sweetie, and he’s Sam’s best friend, but we never clicked on an emotional level.

Sam:  I hope I got that across in your book, Monica. Did you know that your friends from the blog are going to have their stories published by EC, too? I told some of my writer friends about you guys, and they wanted to tell all your stories.  As a matter of fact, Edie’s story is coming on November 11, and it was written by Lynne Connolly. Other stories will be coming from writers Dalton Diaz, Desiree Holt, Mari Carr, Mari Freeman and Ciana Stone.

Monica:  OMG! That’s fabulous. You know, when we met we were all at different crossroads in our life, although we didn’t know it. The blog and our friendship really helped us all go out and start living again. You know the old cliché, forty isn’t fatal.

Sam:  LOL  No, it isn’t. You know my last child and my first book were both born when I was 39. My forties so far have been the best decade of my adult life. I wouldn’t trade them for anything.

Monica:  What a great way to end the interview!! I hope I didn’t take over. But, to make amends for my blabber mouth, I’m going to decorate this interview with some of my favorite pictures from Sam’s blog and website. (Most of these guys are all younger. I’m just sayin’. She may deny it, but we all know she loves younger men as much as we do.) And an excerpt from her book. I picked a hot one. This is one of my favorite memories. Enjoy!

Monica Allen has always been attracted to younger men. She even married one. But after the divorce, she thought she was through with them for good. Then she meets a group of ladies at RomantiCon, and they form a blog celebrating younger men, Tempt the Cougar.

After another lonely Friday night, Monica challenges her friends to each find a younger man to make their fantasies come true. She doesn’t have to marry him—been there, done that, threw away the t-shirt. But for a night of hot sex? Hell yes.

But Sam Lincoln refuses to be just a fantasy. He’s a graduate student with a yen for older women and he may have just found the one to make his own fantasies come true. With a little help from his roommate Josh, Sam fulfills Monica’s deepest desires. Can he convince this sexy cougar to give him a chance at happily ever after?

It didn’t take long to get undressed. Monica sighed with regret at how little attention was paid to her new black, cougar lingerie in comparison to how much it cost. All Josh and Sam seemed to care about was getting her naked. Okay, maybe that wasn’t so bad. As Sam crawled toward her on the bed with a determined glint in his eye, she was actually sure that was pretty darn good.

“Mine,” Sam said in a voice that defied anyone to argue with him. Monica gulped. She had absolutely no intention of arguing. She was so his. So totally, absolutely, embarrassingly his that she was a little worried. This was all for fun, right? She shook off her unease. It was part of the game. She was into what they were playing. She’d had no idea at the bar that Sam would be like this. That he’d be so dominant when it came to sex. Or that Josh apparently had a submissive streak.

She smiled at Sam like a cat at the canary. “Yours,” she said, adding slyly, “first.”

“Yes,” Josh murmured triumphantly from his corner of the bed. He smiled back at Monica.

Sam watched the exchange. Without saying a word he reached out and pressed his hand against her cunt, one finger gliding through the moisture there. Monica moaned and clutched the sheets as her hips bucked into his touch. Sam just rubbed that finger on her until they could all hear how wet she was. “For me,” he said.

Monica couldn’t deny it. “For you,” she gasped.

Sam’s smile was predatory and made Monica shiver with desire. God, she had no idea she’d like a man like this so much—a take-charge, take-no-prisoners, fuck-you-blind kind of man. She felt her feminist side blush guiltily as her slutty side rolled around in her submission like a cat in catnip.

Sam pushed his finger inside her and Monica met the breach with a thrust of her hips, driving him deeper. Her back arched. “Oh, that feels so good,” she purred. “It’s been so long since I’ve had something that doesn’t run on batteries in there.”

Josh laughed and moved closer to them as Sam lay down next her, draping his leg over one of hers, preventing her from spreading her legs wider. “Keep them close,” he whispered. “It makes you tighter.”

She clenched on his finger inside her. “Mmm,” he murmured nuzzling from her ear to her mouth. “Yeah, Blue Eyes, just like that.”

He kissed her then. It was a good thing, because she’d been about to demand that he kiss her. All right, she admitted to herself, beg him. She’d been about to beg him to kiss her. And it was worth begging for. He ate at her mouth as if it were a delicacy. She’d never had anyone kiss her like that, as if her taste, texture, everything was the most delectable thing they’d ever had. She just about melted into the bed when he tenderly licked the corners of her mouth. It was crazy, but for some reason it made her weak and wild at the same time. As if he knew how much she liked it, he did it again.

And that was it. That was why she liked this game so much. Because it was all about her. All about what she wanted, what she liked, what she needed. Sam was attuned to every nuance of her reactions, somehow anticipating what she’d need before she even realized it. He hadn’t been lying earlier when he’d said that watching her live out her fantasies was his fantasy, not if his actions were to be believed. She could tell he liked ordering them around. But so far all that he’d asked had been for her pleasure. Oh, yes, she liked this game a lot.

He was fucking her so deliciously with that finger. She fucked it back, fucked him back, the anticipation of fucking his cock burning her up inside. Suddenly she felt fuller, a pinch of stretch and it burned a little. She broke the kiss on an indrawn breath, one knee pulling up as the other remained trapped under Sam’s leg.

Sam’s fingers stopped moving in her and he just lay there pressing them inside. He’d added another, that was what she’d felt. “Are you okay?” he asked quietly, his mouth still so close to hers she felt the words on her lips.

She nodded. “I…it just surprised me a bit.”

He began to move his fingers again. It felt good again, the burn gone. “You’re tight, sweet thing. How long has it been?”

She bit her lip as he thrust a little harder, a little deeper.

“Answer me.” His voice had gone all deep and sharp again. She shivered, anticipation and arousal building.

“Over a year. Since before he left.” She hated to admit that. Hated to admit that no one had wanted to fuck her for over a year.

“He was a moron.” That was Josh.

Monica huffed out a laugh. “His new wife doesn’t think so.” She turned to look at Josh and smiled. “But you’re right. He is a moron. Because he never, ever made me feel like this.”

“That’s all I want,” Sam growled into her neck, “to make you feel like this. Better than this.” His fingers drove into her again and she moaned as her back arched again. “Good?” he rasped in her ear.

“So good,” she said in a voice that sounded suspiciously like she might cry. But only because it felt so good. So amazing.

“Don’t ever waste your time on morons, again, Monica,” Josh told her, leaning down and kissing her shoulder. “Not when we can make you feel so good.”

Out Now at Ellora’s Cave!

Urban Fantasy Week

What a great idea this is!? With vamps, weres, and zombies flying around the Internet like viral videos, I wish we could all dress up like our favorite monsters and drink bubbling hot chocolate out of honest-to-goodness cauldrons while we do this deal.? Hang on, lemme get my fangs?

And no, that?s not the reason some form of the word ?bite? appears in every title of the books in the Jaz Parks series.? Nothing fake about the canines on my vampires.? Especially my hero, a nearly three hundred-year-old Rom (that?s the don?t-punch-me word for gypsy) named Vayl, who?s decided the only way he can tolerate his own company in the 21^st century is to blend.? Rub shoulders with humans, even work with them day-to-day as if he doesn?t constantly crave their rich, red blood.? How?s he pull it off?

That?s part of what you learn as you move through the series with him and his partner, Jaz.? Yeah, they?ve got a bigger agenda.? As assassins for the CIA?? Huge.

In my latest book,?Bite Marks, the goal is as monumental as ever.? Eliminate the person who wants to destroy NASA?s Australian based eye-to-the-sky?without knowing his or her identity.? Or why the gnomes who?ve orchestrated the whole event don?t recognize the shaman yanking their puppet strings.

I?ll tell you this about Vayl.? If somebody had been jerking him around, he?d have frozen those strings like icicles and turned the marionette master into an ice sculpture.? Because he?s cool like that.? Until he lays his smoldering green eyes on you and then it?s all hot breath and whispered promises from dusk until dawn.? Wanna meet him?? Here?s your chance!

Once Bitten, Twice Shy

Another One Bites the Dust

Biting the Bullet

Bitten to Death

One More Bite

Bite Marks?officially releasing October 29, 2009

–
Jennifer Rardin,
Author of the Jaz Parks Series

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Paranormal Gets Real

Shirin Dubbin 10/17/09

I’m sitting on a flight pondering what makes the paranormal feel real. Which is tough ’cause my whole body itches like the dickens. Wait! Before you run screaming with visions of internet communicable disease allow me to explain. Twenty-four hours ago I stood on a gorgeous Tybee Island beach and bore witness as my good friend married her big ole teddy bear of a honey.

Such a beautiful wedding. Such vicious bugs.

We were swarmed by biting gnats who left my skin scored with dozens of itchy red bumps, in places as varied as my right armpit (strapless dresses) and lower left buttock (and here I thought ‘kiss my ass’ was just a figure of speech.) Things got so bad the writer in me began to envision the bugs were zombies sent to infect the bridal party?[Ow. Swat. Smack. Smile for the camera] by a vengeful undead queen?named?ooh I know, Faye Tality, who was once in love with the Groom. Heh. Can’t you see it?

[cue melodramatic music] Four bridesmaids sway down the beach in tea length gowns of silk taffeta; though every step is punctuated with stinging they demurely use bouquets and shoulder shrugs to displace the swarm’s vicious attack. White sand stretches before them and the sky is full of cotton candy clouds. The maid-of-honor nods at the guests. A smile plays across her perfectly glossed mouth. The moment would be perfect if she didn’t have gnats up her skirt nibbling on her ‘cookies.’ Oh well, the show must go on.

The Bride appears, resplendent in a one-shoulder column of handmade lace, the sash at her waist chosen to match her maids. The Groom’s heart stops. Then begins again in a happy rush.

The make-up artist has painted the Bride’s face in the manner of an Egyptian Queen and she will not break the illusion no matter how many gnats get trapped between the lace and the underskirt of her gown, ?Ow.? Swat. Smile for the camera.

The Groom extends a hand to his bride. She stops short, a puzzled look on her face. Her lips part. He waits. Entranced.

?Uungh,? she says, ?Brainnnzzz.?

Her eyes glow bright red before she shambles past the Groom, leaps and wraps her entire body around the good Reverend. Pandemonium breaks out as wedding guest go running, pell-mell, down the beach only to be picked off by voracious bridesmaids. The Bride smiles then bites into the Reverend’s head like an apple. The only thing that saves him is the metal plate in his skull–a souvenir from his days at war?

Could you see it? As much as I’d like to take credit and tell you it’s because I’m a great writer. It’s not. It’s because most of that story is true, or because you’ve been there in some capacity. You’ve attended a wedding or have been a bridesmaid. Maybe bugs have attacked you or perhaps birds. Or you’ve been so bored you found yourself hoping a gathering of people would be attacked by zombies (you know, just to spice things up a bit.) Either way you can relate.

It is the marriage of real and fantasy that makes paranormal fiction work. When the author imbues a story with elements the reader can identify with, or has experienced, it makes the fantasy elements all the more real. That’s especially true of Urban Fantasy where metropolitan grit meets fae glamour and I believe it is what makes the sub-genre so popular.

I first realized this after the release of my book, Keeper of the Way. Every time I learn someone has read it I get excited and end up asking what part they liked best. To my surprise most folks chose a scene I’d think least likely to show up on a list of faves. While riding in a limousine my main character, Nia’Mora, is confronted by her parents. She will sooner or later experience The Twinning, her race’s method of choosing a mate, and they want her to face facts. The scene is simple, depicting a woman as she struggles to reconcile her parents’ wishes with her own:

Excerpt from Keeper of the Way

?Nii,? Tul’Leah said in an infamous ‘this is disappointing but I’m sure we can correct it’ Mama tone. ?Why do you persist in wearing those sunglasses both sun and moonrise??

Nia’Mora sighed and slipped the sunglasses off her face. She couldn’t be angry. It was a reasonable question. Her spring-green eyes found her mother’s lavender ones. ?Mima, I need a little more time. I don’t want to be bound yet. I don’t?I don’t know. I’m just not ready for a bond-mate.?

Her father, Ramender, harrumphed, the sound so comical Nii and her mother burst out laughing.

Truth was, she knew exactly why she didn’t want a mate. Only she couldn’t say it out loud. Deep-rooted fear held her back. Fear that once her mate got into her head–knew her more intimately than one could know their own flesh–he would denounce her as the biggest freak ever; refuse to live with her; spin her around and boot her right out the front door. That would destroy her.

She shuddered. A visceral memory of the male in the dry cleaners suddenly rode her body the way she wished she could ride him. Each of her pleasure points pulsed with need. The precautions she’d taken not to meet his gaze hadn’t spared her receiving psychic impressions of his power and prowess. Closing her eyes, she forced him out of her head in sections. He didn’t go easily. Something in the masculine scent, the sense of comfort, and the need he evoked within her lingered at the periphery of her consciousness, as if some part of him had taken root there. This could get tricky. Hopefully she’d never see him again.

So what if her fears were irrational? She had been the weird one her entire life–born with the very human ability of foresight. Elves didn’t deal in premonition. As immortals, they believed in the now and relished the lessons of the past. Her sense of humor added to her Aftermath Cleaner skills made popularity possible. Foresight would have nixed it. Not that it ever made her lonely or an outcast. She had loads of friends who loved her to bits, but even those closest had a hard time figuring her out. She was an odd bird. Like a dodo amongst phoenix. Phoenixes? Either way?

?Sunray.? Her father’s voice drew her gaze. He looked the part of a Bollywood hero, his raw silk sherwani tunic switching from maroon to blue each time the Jaguar passed beneath a streetlight. The Indian-style suit fit him like a dream.

Strange, at almost two centuries, her father was considered a youngster among their people. The years didn’t age the Amaranthine. It refined them. Her mother was over six hundred summers but would give any thirty-year-old mortal woman fits.

?Sunray, the path you take to avert your destiny will lead you to it,? her father continued. ?Soul meets soul when eyes meet eyes. When your bond-mate shows up, those sunshades won’t make a pixie’s shrug of difference.?

Though Nia’Mora is an elf and over 88 years-old many people could identify. One reader, Nicole, said if a kick-ass heroine like Nii dealt with the same day-to-day trails she did maybe she could be a fabulous leading lady too. Very cool.

This revelation stuck with me and I began to notice the everyday life details my favorite authors build into their stories. Allergies, taste in music, candy addictions combined with golem mechanics, boys raised in cemeteries or reformed gangster vampires.

As I finish revisions on my latest book, codenamed Dreams, I’ve kept this in mind. In the excerpt below I worked to give the griffons similar qualities to a family pet, named the bar inside a library after a well-known book (I know but I’m weird), and invoke thunderstorm imagery. It is my hope details like these make my brand of Paranormal Urban Fantasy Romance all more real for you–but you’ll have to let me know.

Stop by and visit me on my web site http://fan-fatale.com/

And if you’d like, and I hope you would, pick up a copy of Keeper of the Way

Amazon (link: http://www.amazon.com/Keeper-Of-The-Way/dp/B002HJV4Y8/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1255399635&sr=1-1)

Red Rose Publishing? (link: http://redrosepublishing.com/bookstore/product_info.php?cPath=23_70&products_id=447)

Fictionwise (link:?http://www.fictionwise.com/ebooks/b93868/Keeper-of-the-Way/Shirin-Dubbin/?si=0)

Excerpt from my upcoming WIP, Dreams:

The end of that thought brought him to stop at the stones steps leading into the big ass library in question. The Libros Arcanum, every library in existence or had ever existed–all and none simultaneously. The pair of griffons standing guard sprang to life and bounded circles around Keoni. Their heads dipped beneath his hands and lifted forcing him to pet them. The Hawaiian patted their feathered heads and furred flanks heartily. One jumped up and laid its front paws on his shoulders.

?Easy,? he said grinning at their antics and impatiently swishing tales. He knew what they wanted and materialized the comic books from memory. Flipping one to each, he chuckled as the pair gulped their treats down in single snaps of their beaks?

Keoni left the griffons behind and took the steps two at a time. Before he reached the top the studded bronze doors swung open in anticipation of his arrival. He stared into the nothingness. Churning clouds of raw Dreaming flickered before him, internally lit by bursts of lightening. You had to know where you were going when dealing with the Libros Arcanum. Otherwise you’d step off the stone entry, drop into unformed imagination and never stop falling.

?For Whom the Tale Tolls,? he told the library and it leapt to his request. The clouds became modular and began to fold and flip into new shapes. Its movements reminded Keoni of a grid that decided to become a cube and then, just as suddenly, the interior of a bar.

With the basic structure of the library’s pub in place the lines softened into the curving backs of chairs and archways. Iridescent building blocks took on wood tones and grain or thinned into glass. The hum of bar patrons rose as they faded into view and solidified.

?What’s up big man? You’re late,? Jay said leaning back into one of the square leather couches and throwing his feet up on the matching ottoman.

Keoni flopped down into the armchair near his reclining friend, ?I’m never late, always right on time.?

Excerpts of Keeper of the Way and Dreams copyright ? 2009 Shirin Dubbin. All Rights Reserved.