Mari Carr's Blog, page 109

Power Play

Today marks the release of the fifth book in my Black & White Collection, Power Play, at Samhain. I had a great deal of fun writing this book. The Black & White books are a series of stand-alone stories that share only one thing–a theme–Wicked Fantasies. As I started work on Power Play, I tried to think of what wicked fantasy I would like to explore. A friend suggested I write a book about a Domme. It's not something I've tackled before, but y'all know me. I like my heroes Alpha, with a capital A. I toyed with the idea for a bit, even wrote out a scene or two, but my characters kept fighting for control. Before long, I'd created two dominant personality, each fighting to be top dog. Next thing I knew, the story exploded into a modern-day Moonlighting with two headstrong, stubborn, confident people struggling to work together and falling in love along the way!

There's only room at the top for one person…at a time.

A Black & White Collection story.

Back on American soil for the first time in nine months, Reed Donovan is ready to blow off some steam. The beauty he spots at the local bar not only catches his eye, she snags him by the balls when she announces she's always fantasized about having sex with a stranger—a fantasy he is more than willing to help come true.

Explosive fireworks over, Francesca rebuffs his invitation to dinner. While the sparks may fly between them physically, she doesn't believe they could spend more than a few minutes in the same room without arguing. Her suspicions prove correct when Francesca reports for her new position the next morning—and discovers she's been hired as Reed's new marketing partner.

When Reed and Francesca immediately begin butting heads about future pitches to prospective clients, Reed proposes a bet. For the next three presentations, they'll both make a pitch. Whoever wins the campaign also wins a fantasy.

The competition is fierce—and hot. And the hotter it gets, the closer they come to the brink of something they never intended…or expected.

Wicked fantasies anyone? Up for some sex in public, sex with a stranger, sex in an office, sex in a bar, sex with a Dom, and bondage sex? Good. Strap in and hang on. 

Excerpt:

Reed Donovan stared at the flat-screen TV in the corner of the bar, and though his eyes were seeing the baseball game, his mind wasn't processing a single aspect of it. He leaned back in his chair and tried to shake off the lingering traces of jetlag. Two days earlier, he'd flown back to the States after nine months in London. He only had tonight left to recover from the trip before he returned back to work bright and early the next morning.

He picked up the drink in front of him and took a long, deep swig. His throat was parched and his mouth dry. Clearly the stress of his day job was affecting his mind, messing with his head. He'd gone to London in the early fall to clean up the mess the former manager had left in his company's branch office.

"Have to admit I didn't think you had it in you to be quiet for so long."

Reed looked up and found his cousin, the owner of the bar, looking down at him. He gestured to the chair across from him and watched Carter sit.

Reed lifted his glass. "Trying to drink away some of my damn tiredness. Not looking forward to going back to work tomorrow."

"Nine months is a damn long time to uproot from your home, Reed. And I know you hate playing the admin role, know you've been gritting your teeth every minute of these last few months, wishing you were back doing what you love."

"Uncle Brian needed my help getting the London branch back under control. The last manager only managed to run the damn thing into the ground. It was my job to clean house, to put the pieces back together."

Carter leaned back in the chair, put his hands behind his head and studied his face. "So what's stuck up your ass? You're home now. Figured you'd be happy and celebrating that little fact."

Reed rubbed his eyes wearily. His cousin was right, he should be doing flips around the bar. Instead, he felt tired, irritable. "You want me to make a bulleted list for you?"

Carter grinned. "Is this gonna be a long presentation, Mr. Exec?"

Reed leaned forward, not bothering to acknowledge his cousin's joke. "Number one, I'm pissed as hell about Brian sending me to London. I've worked my ass off for that man for years and I don't appreciate being used as a lackey to do his goddamn dirty work. I'm going into his office tomorrow and letting him know it's not something I ever intend to do again."

Carter winced. "Damn, man. That's not gonna be a fun conversation."

"You're right. It's not. Number two, while I was off wasting my MBA skills playing office manager, he let my marketing partner lose two prospective clients to The Wilkerson Team. I could have landed those accounts if Brian would have let me do my job."

"Sounds like your partner sucks."

"You're missing the point, Carter. If I'd been there, those companies would be The Donovan Group's clients."

Carter waved a waitress over and ordered a whiskey, straight up, before gesturing for Reed to continue. "Anything else you need to get off your chest?"

Reed leaned back. "Frankie Carlyle."

"Who's that?"

"The bastard who stole my deals. Some hotshot upstart from The Wilkerson Team."

"Ah, so you've finally got some competition, eh?"

Reed narrowed his eyes. "Hardly."

"Damn, you're a sore loser. Always have been."

Reed wanted to argue, but figured it was pointless. Carter knew him too well. "Lucky for me, I never lose."

Carter burst out with loud laughter.

Reed scowled. "I'm simply going to tell Brian I'm not cleaning up any more messes. I'm a marketing guy and if he'd let me do that job instead of shipping me off to goddamn London for nearly a year, Frankie Carlyle wouldn't have two jobs that should have been mine."

Carter sat up, leaning across the table to slap him on the shoulder in a supportive way. "You and I both know anger doesn't win an argument with Brian. He had his reasons for sending you away. Whether or not he cares to enlighten you on the whys of it is another matter entirely."

Reed nodded, but didn't elaborate on his real concerns regarding Frankie Carlyle. He'd seen print copies of the presentations that landed the deals. They were good. Very good. And there was a small part of Reed that wondered if he could have landed the deals if he'd been around.

He attempted to stretch a tight kink out of his neck. He was stressed out and tired. There were three more big bids looming in The Donovan Group's immediate future and Reed intended to land every single one of them. Carlyle was about to meet his match.

"Earth to Reed."

He glanced across the table and realized his cousin had been speaking to him.

Carter gave him a grin and shook his head. "Damn, man. Grab yourself a woman and get this aggression out of your system. You gotta blow off some steam before you talk to Uncle Brian or you're bound to get your ass fired."

Reed snorted and nodded. Carter was probably right. He scanned the bar for the first time since he'd walked in tonight. He hoped to spot Genevieve. Though he didn't date—his job didn't allow him much time for romance—he did enjoy the occasional hook up with Vivi. When he spotted her in the corner of the room, he smiled.

Carter caught the direction of his gaze and nodded his approval. "Good call. Vivi will cure what's ailing you."

"I think she just might."

He grinned, about to stand, when a woman seated at the bar turned to retrieve something from her purse and caught his attention. She was clearly a businesswoman. Her expensively tailored suit, the briefcase at her feet, and the Droid she was typing into fast and furiously all proclaimed her role. He could only see her in profile, but he was taken aback by the delicate curve of her face, the single loose tendril of jet black hair that had escaped her stylishly pinned-up French twist. She appeared to be tall, with long legs that just wouldn't quit. She was slim and, much to his chagrin, the size of her breasts was concealed by her suit jacket. He was a breast man through and through.

As he continued to watch her tap away at the tiny phone screen, he wondered for a moment what it was about her that was holding his attention. She was lovely, yes, but he'd seen more beautiful women. And while her body—what he could see of it—was hot, Vivi was just as shapely, just as sexy.

However, there was something about the way she held herself as she sat at the bar, quietly sipping from her glass of red wine. She simply exuded confidence and the image struck him as vaguely familiar, though he'd bet his entire lifesavings he'd never seen her before. He stared at her for several moments before he realized Carter had turned to see what he was looking at.

"Ah, the fair Francesca," his cousin said.

"Francesca?"

Carter gestured toward the beautiful woman. "She's a regular here. Comes in a couple times a week. Sometimes alone, sometimes with friends or colleagues. Trust me when I say you should stick with Vivi."

"Why?" He wasn't sure what prompted his question. Until Carter spoke, he'd had no intentions of approaching the woman. Now that his cousin had piqued his curiosity, he wasn't so sure.

"Because she's the female version of you, Reed. Powerful, successful, used to being in control. She wouldn't go for that macho routine of yours. Women like her aren't into men like us. When she settles down, it will be with a nice, biddable man who doesn't mind a woman who wears the pants in the relationship. That's sure as hell not you."

Reed turned his attention away from the woman's face and back to his cousin's. "You seem to know quite a bit about her."

"We've talked, just about stuff in general, nothing personal. She's smart and she's funny, but she's also…" Carter paused, and Reed sensed his cousin was searching for a word he couldn't find, "…dominant."

"Dominant?"

Carter shrugged. "I don't mean in a leather-wearing, whip-wielding way, but yeah, she's, well, hell, she's you, but with boobs and nothing dangling between her legs."

Reed laughed. "So you're warning me away?"

"Honestly? Yes. You're feeling sort of down right now and you need a pick-me-up, not more complications. Vivi's made to order, no muss, no fuss. You two can get together, wrinkle the sheets for a little while and come tomorrow morning, your perspective on life will be clearer."

Reed glanced at Vivi and knew his cousin made a good point. Being with her was easy, relaxing, comfortable. They knew what the other liked in bed and neither of them expected a morning after courtesy call. Simple.

Then, from the corner of his eye, he saw Francesca move, turn her face toward the room. Her gaze met his and held. He leaned forward in his chair. It was the first time she'd acknowledged his presence. He narrowed his eyes, wondering what she was seeing. Was she feeling the same attraction? The same fascination? She studied him for only a fraction of a minute, mere seconds, but in that time, Reed felt as if he'd been shocked by the electrical current flowing between them.

"Should have saved my breath," Carter said, rising.

"What?"

"I've never known you to take the easy way. Good luck, bud. You're going to need it." Carter turned and walked to his office, leaving Reed alone.

He looked at Vivi once more. She'd drop everything to spend the evening obeying his every command if he walked over and offered the invitation.

He didn't.

Instead, he stood and walked toward the bar, toward Francesca.

Claiming the empty seat next to her, he waved the bartender over. "Hi Joe. I'll have a Guinness, and get another glass of red for Francesca here."

She'd already been looking at him as he ordered, but when he mentioned her name he noticed the slightest narrowing of her eyes.

"Do I know you?"

He shook his head. "No. My cousin Carter owns this bar. He mentioned your name to me."

She digested that information as he studied her face. She was gorgeous. Now that they were in closer proximity, he was able to spot the slightest amount of her generous cleavage through her blouse.

"Up here, babe," she said pointing to her face, when his eyes lingered too far south for a second too long.

He grinned at her joke. Oh yeah. She was everything his cousin described. Trouble in a thirty-four D cup. Good stuff.

"So, your cousin suggested that you buy me a drink?"

"No." Reed pointed to where Vivi still sat behind her. "He told me to buy her a drink."

Francesca glanced over her shoulder. "Pretty girl. Did you miss your mark? Need me to draw you a map? Help you get over there?"

"My sense of direction is just fine."

She rested her chin on her hand and, for the briefest moment, he wondered what the hell was going on in her mind. Then the bartender returned with their drinks and distracted her.

She sighed heavily as she looked at the full glass of wine. "I really shouldn't drink this. I've had two glasses already. I have a big day at work tomorrow and attempting it hungover isn't a good strategy."

He grinned. She clearly wasn't drunk. He wasn't even sure he'd call her tipsy, but she was definitely enjoying the relaxing effects of the wine.

"You strike me as the type who can handle her alcohol. And anything else that might come her way." It was an obvious come on, but he didn't care. There was something about her that screamed sex…and something else. Some elusive something he couldn't put his finger on.

He took a sip of his Guinness. The alcohol was working on smoothing his rough edges too. His neck wasn't stiff anymore and he was feeling looser, freer from the stress of work.

She leaned closer, her cheek still resting on her hand. "You know, I've always had this fantasy."

He moved toward her. Her voice was low, husky, sexy as hell. "Oh yeah?"

"Sex with a stranger."

Her words hit him like a punch in the stomach and his groin filled the maximum weight recommended for his pants in three seconds flat. There was no way he could adjust them without drawing her attention to his dilemma. Then he grinned and made the adjustment anyway.

Her eyes followed the motion of his fingers.

"Up here, babe," he teased, mimicking her words.

She laughed. "You're really Carter's cousin?"

"Yep, I'm Re—"

She cut him off quickly with a wave of her hand. "No. You tell me your name and we stop being strangers."

She had a point. And a set of knockers that had him feeling lightheaded.

Taking a deep breath, he decided to go for broke. "Where do you wanna do this?"

"Follow me."

New Release Contest

I'm celebrating the release of Power Play tomorrow at Samhain. What better way to YEE HAW then with a contest! It's a simple, overnight one. Simply tell me which ebook from my backlist you'd like to win and what format. I'll choose a winner at 8 a.m. EST tomorrow morning and announce it here and on the Samhain cafe group.

Good luck and thanks for stopping by!

Quote of the Week

"I've been drunk for about a week now, and I thought it might sober me up to sit in a library." - The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald

Saturday Snippet

This week's theme involves the dark moment. Any fiction story worth it's salt will have that one moment where everything looks hopeless, dire. Typically, it's the turning point, the spot where the protagonist has to pick him or herself up by the bootstraps and move on or simply give up. Hopefully, they don't give up!

Today's snippets is from my latest release, Any Given Sunday. This story was fraught with dark moments as the three main characters try to come to terms with their feelings for each other. This is no simple menage.  Thought I'd share a racier snippet today, so I'm putting a rating of NC-17 on this!

Excerpt:

"When did life get so complicated?"

He grinned. "There's nothing complicated about this. You just have to give yourself to me, Lauren. Submit to me."

He backed his words up with a kiss and she let herself be swept away. For several moments, she simply let her lips say all the things she couldn't find the words to express. She did want him. She did want this. Problem was…she wanted so much more.

The tenor of the touches changed. Sean's lips firmed and he pressed harder. His tongue no longer seemed to stroke her mouth as much as it came in and conquered. Always a gentle lover, Sean took her by surprise with his rough kiss.

He pushed her down on the bed, coming over her, never breaking the union of their lips. He reached up with his hands, tangling them in her ponytail, tugging at her hair. Her body flew into overdrive with his forceful grasp. She spread her legs and wrapped them around his hips as he began to drive his jeans-covered cock against her pussy. Desperation seemed to lace Sean's movement. Lauren wondered what prompted it.

He continued to lay siege to her lips and though she tried to break away, tried to put some distance between them in an effort to find air, he held her immobile, hostage to his whims.

"Sean," she whispered, but he swallowed her words, kissing her harder, driving his tongue into her mouth.

Her mind fought him, tried to force this stranger away, but her body was held in his thrall. She tightened her legs as he thrust against her faster. He was driving her arousal higher with each touch, each unspoken demand.

She tried one last-ditch attempt at feeble resistance. Dragging her nails along his back, she scratched him. Hard. She grinned when she heard his hiss of pain. She'd scored a point.

She was surprised when he released her hair and reached for her hands. Grasping them tightly by the wrists, he pulled them above her head, holding them against the mattress.

"Trust me," he said against her lips, his words deep, powerful. He didn't give her a chance to respond. He merely punctuated his command with another hard kiss.

She tried once more to free her lips from his. She needed to breathe, needed space between them so she could think. He was driving her arousal higher with each touch until she found it impossible to form a coherent thought. He adjusted his grip, holding both her hands with one of his while the other took control of her head. His implacable clasp told her he could easily possess her.

She continued to fight, to struggle—though the effort was halfhearted at best. The combined feeling of his cock against her needy center, his fingers in her hair, his lips and mouth consuming her as he held her immobile against the bed, was working some sort of magic on her.

His tongue swept along her lower lip before diving into her mouth again. Suddenly the fight went out of her. She brushed her tongue against his, letting her arms lay slack in his grip.

She understood. She knew now where it was Sean wanted to take her and for the briefest of moments, submitting to him sounded heavenly. She was tired of fighting him, fighting her attraction to Chad, fighting this incredible feeling. To hell with the consequences. She knew wherever Sean led, she'd follow willingly.

The hand holding her ponytail loosened and Sean pulled away only an inch, his gaze capturing hers.

He gave her a victorious grin. "You're mine, Lauren."

She tried to assimilate his words while the riotous emotions rocketed through her body. One word kept pounding in her brain, taking up the same rhythm as the blood coursing through her veins.

Submit. Submit. Submit.

Isn't that what she'd just done? Put herself in Sean's hands? Given him control of her body? Yes. She had. She thought she'd be more uncomfortable with the realization, but her mind and body seemed to agree on only one thing. She wanted to give him everything she had to offer, but she needed more.

Sean pulled her T-shirt over her head, bending down to take her pebbled nipple between his lips. He sucked hard, the rough suction sending impulses along every part of her body. She pushed her hips against his, needing more stimulation, more sensation. Her body was on fire, held hostage by his mastery.

As he stripped her pants off, she reached to shed his clothing as well.

"Put your hands back on the bed." His voice was deep, firm.

"I want to see you."

Sean paused. That charged moment was all she needed. His face told her he would have his way on this and she put her hands back on the pillow by her head.

"I know what you need, Lauren," he said. "Now let me give it to you."

His lips returned to hers and his kiss washed away every other thought. All she needed was relief.

Then, the image of Chad's face flashed in her mind.

"God," she groaned when he pulled away to suck on her breast once more. Her mind was running in a million different directions, her emotions on system overload. Sean moved farther away, knelt between her open legs. His gaze drifted from her pussy, slowly up her body until it landed on her face.

Then he reached forward and pressed a finger inside her. She groaned. She'd been waiting for that touch but it still wasn't enough.

"You need more," he said, his eyes holding hers captive.

She nodded.

"Tell me what," he prompted.

"Another finger," she whispered.

He complied, adding a second finger to the first, the thrusts still shallow, still not creating the incredible friction she'd grown accustomed to.

"You need more," he repeated. "Tell me."

"Harder," she begged. "Faster."

Again he took her at his words, driving her to the peak of her climax quickly. Even as her body flushed with heat and need, it wasn't enough.

"Tell me," he said once more. "I'll give you everything you need, Lauren. Everything."

"You." She reached for him but he was too far away. His eyes narrowed and she remembered she wasn't supposed to move. She put her hands back on the bed. Pleased by her acquiescence, he quickly opened his pants, bent forward, placed his cock at the entrance to her body and shoved inside in one firm, hard, beautiful thrust. He filled her in an instant, a millisecond, but still…

"What else, Lauren?"

Her eyes had closed when he'd entered her, but now they flew open. "What?"

He smiled, setting a steady rhythm as he fucked her into oblivion. Even as he moved, she knew he waited for an answer.

Her body was flying on autopilot, heading toward the orgasm it desired, and basically it didn't give a shit about the fact he wanted to talk.

"God," she cried, when he hit that one spot, deep inside. Lights flashed behind her eyelids. She reached up, gripped the tops of his strong arms, searching for something to anchor her to this spot, this moment.

"Tell me." Sean paused just seconds before her climax. Her body trembled in pain as he withheld what she needed most.

"No!" she yelled, but he didn't move.

"You want more, Lauren. All you have to do is ask."

She found it difficult to breathe, the air in the room stifling hot.

As she looked into his beloved face, she saw determined lines around his eyes and mouth and in that instant, she realized.

He knew what was missing.

"Chad," she whispered.

He smiled and began to thrust harder, faster. Somehow she'd freed them both with her confession. It was out in the open. With her confession made, she felt lighter, freer, alive. Her hips rose to meet Sean's, the pounding pleasure of his lovemaking driving her straight into the white-hot magic.

She screamed as she came, a cacophony of words flying from her lips, Sean's name, Chad's name, words of love and forever.

"Yes," she heard Sean hiss, and then she felt the hot splashes of his release fill her.

He would give her everything she wanted. Everything.

For several moments they clung to each other and Lauren let herself remain adrift in the blissful aftermath. The real world would return too soon.

Any Given Sunday is available at Ellora's Cave.

Check out some more dark moments by these awesome authors!

Leah Braemel

Lissa Matthews 

McKenna Jeffries

Taige Crenshaw

Delilah Devlin

Eliza Gayle

TJ Michaels

Lauren Dane

Jody Wallace

Sasha White

Quote of the Week

It is our choices that show what we truly are, far more than our abilities.  ~Albus Dumbledore, Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets by JK Rowling

Saturday Snippet

This week's theme is music. I thought I'd share a snippet from my debut Carina story, Do Over.

Excerpt:

When the parking lot was almost completely clear, he turned to her. "Happy anniversary, Faith."

Her brows lowered. "Our wedding anniversary isn't until next Tuesday."

He shrugged. "It's close enough. I wanted to celebrate it with you here."

"At the high school?"

He chuckled. "No, here. In Carlylse. Home."

She smiled at his words. "This place hasn't been home in nearly thirteen years."

"It'll always be home. Too much of our lives happened here for it to be anything else."

She nodded, knowing he was right. Then, he picked up the present and she blushed. "I feel terrible. I didn't get you anything yet."

Truth be told, she hadn't planned on buying him much more than a card. After twenty-five years of marriage, a simple card exchange and dinner out had sort of become their standard routine. There wasn't too much that either of them really wanted and with two kids in college, spending money on anything frivolous seemed like too much of a waste.

"You give me plenty, Faith," he said, tapping her nose playfully, and she had to take a quick breath to fight back the tears at his unexpected, sweet comment. She loved her husband and she knew for a fact that he loved her, but neither of them spoke in flowery phrases. Every night of their lives together, they'd kissed good-night and said the words, "love you," but after awhile, the meaning behind the words was lost in the rote pattern.

Looking down, she carefully opened the beautifully wrapped package. Pulling off the lid and digging into the tissue paper, she was surprised to find a photo album. She started to open the cover, but Troy's hand covered hers.

"You can only look at the first page," he said.

She looked up, the question in her eyes, but he didn't give her time to voice it.

"This is only the first stop in our celebration. One page for each place. I'll tell you when you can turn the page."

She looked at him for several moments, trying to assimilate this man and this incredibly romantic gesture with the easygoing guy who'd been leaving wet towels on her bathroom floor year after year.

Opening the photo album to the first page, she saw a picture of her and Troy the night of their senior prom. They hadn't come to the dance together, but they'd certainly left the gym hand in hand. His original date had come down with the flu, canceling the morning of. She'd come with Travis Scottsdale, her first semi-serious boyfriend and asshole of the century. Ten minutes after arriving at the dance, he told her he wanted to break up with her, leaving her sitting alone while he proceeded to make out in the corner with Amber Cooper.

"Oh my gosh. Look at us. We're so young."

"And sweaty," Troy joked. "We danced our asses off that night."

"It didn't help that the AC in the gym didn't work." Faith grinned at the memory.

"Must've been at least a hundred degrees in there."

Faith looked back at the photograph. "Where did you get this picture? I've never seen it."

"It was in the pocket of that letter jacket. I can't remember exactly where I got it. I think Judy Hayes gave it to me a couple weeks after the dance. I'm pretty sure I was supposed to pass it along to you."

"And obviously you forgot." Forgetting little things was a special talent of Troy's. She always had to remind him it was garbage day or to stop on the way home from work to pick up the dry cleaning.

Troy shrugged. "I was a teenage boy falling in love for the first time. Believe me, I was not about to give up that picture. I looked at it all the time."

This time, she couldn't hold back the tears his kind words provoked.

"Troy," she whispered.

He bent forward. "Kiss me," he murmured. Their lips touched. They'd kissed a million and twelve times in their lives, but this kiss, gentle and sweet and innocent, reminded her of their first. It was in this parking lot after the dance and she could still remember the excitement she felt when Troy Wainwright offered her a ride home. They'd gotten into his car and before he started the engine, he'd turned to her and said the exact same words.

Kiss me.

The request and the action had taken her breath away that night and she was feeling the same lightheadedness now as she had then. As soon as the memory entered her mind, she pulled away with a gasp and looked around. If she wasn't mistaken, this was very nearly the same parking spot.

"Our first kiss."

He grinned, pleased she'd remembered. "Yep. Right here. In front of the school." He turned on the radio and slid in a CD. Pushing Play, he pointed back down to the photo album as the sounds of Fleetwood Mac drifted through the speakers.

For the first time, her gaze traveled from the picture on the left page to a letter protected under the plastic film on the right page. It was written to her in Troy's handwriting.

"What's this?" she asked.

"Read it."

Faith,

You and I have known each other nearly our entire lives, traveling the same path through elementary, middle and high school. While we were acquaintances through those early years, I feel like I never really knew you, never saw you until the night of our senior prom.

            Betsy Jordan coming down with the flu was probably the best thing that ever happened to me, even though I didn't realize it at the time. I remember how pissed off I was after her mother called and said she couldn't go to the dance with me. I almost stayed home that night, but my mom insisted I put the rented tux to use. You know my mom— waste not, want not.

            I came late and by the time I got there, that dickhead, Travis had left you sitting all alone. I knew you all had been dating, so I was surprised when I saw him with Amber. I can still remember the look on your face as you watched him dancing with that other girl. You were so pale and yet, so strong. I could see how hard you were fighting not to cry, to hold on to your dignity. It was like a light went on inside me. I'd passed you in the hallways for years and never really looked at you, but that night, you were the most beautiful girl I'd ever seen and I wondered why in the hell I'd never noticed it before.

            I was nervous as shit when I walked over to you and asked to sit down. You smiled at me and I felt like somebody had punched me in the gut. Talk about an instant attraction. We talked and laughed and after awhile, we started dancing. The last song of the night was "Landslide" and I took you in my arms and we slow danced while Stevie Nicks sang. After the dance, you said I could drive you home and we had our first kiss in the parking lot. I fell in love with you that night even though I was too stupid at the time to know it. When I dropped you off at your house, I asked if I could call you again and you said yes. I smiled the whole way home, thinking about you.

            Even after all this time, I only have to think about you and I smile.

Love, Troy  

Do Over is available at Carina, Amazon, Barnes and Noble, Sony, and All Romance Ebooks.

Why don't you listen to some tunes from these great authors too?

Lissa Matthews 

McKenna Jeffries

Taige Crenshaw

Delilah Devlin

Eliza Gayle

Shelli Stevens

TJ Michaels

Lauren Dane

Jody Wallace

Sasha White

Any Given Sunday

Well. I can't decide if it's one of the happiest days of my life or a bittersweet one. Today marks the release of Any Given Sunday, the last book in my Wild Irish series. I have to say these books have been a year and a half labor of love for me and I'm so very, very sad to see it end.

At the same time, I'm feeling such an amazing sense of accomplishment. I did it! I'm not going to lie…there were a couple of times when I worried about being able to finish! LOL. Waiting for Wednesday and Any Given Sunday were particularly difficult stories for me to write. I love romantic comedy–humor comes to me easily so I sort of breezed through Ruby Tuesday, Friday I'm in Love and Saturday Night Special.

Any Given Sunday, like Waiting for Wednesday, was a bit heavier, the emotions a bit tougher to tackle. My editor remarked that Sunday was easily the most emotionally intense story in the bunch. I think a lot of that had to do with the fact that I was just so sad to say goodbye to the Collins clan! Sean, like Riley, was a favorite character of mine, so I wanted to make sure he got his happily-ever-after. And, of course, there was the little mystery surrounding that fight in Come Monday that had to be wrapped up!

So…here it is. Any Given Sunday. Finally! I hope you enjoy the story.

Wild Irish, Book Seven

The child who is born on the Sabbath day, is bonny and blithe and good and gay.

Sean Collins is happy working at the family pub and sharing a house with the woman of his dreams. He and Lauren are equals in every way, including in bed, where they burn the sheets. Life is good. Even if he must hide a couple of secrets to keep it that way.

Lauren is madly in love with Sean. They share everything—almost. She can't deny sensing…something. A certain feeling when she, Sean and their friend Chad are all together. But she doesn't press. How can she when she's not being completely forthright herself?

Chad is feeling pretty miserable, and renting a room in Sean and Lauren's home has only made it worse. In a house filled with secrets, Chad's are doozies.

When an opportunity arises to explore their deep desires, the trio plunges into a sex-filled, emotionally charged ménage. Long-buried feelings are revealed, changing their lives irrevocably. Whether for better or worse, only Sean, Chad and Lauren can decide.

Read an excerpt.

Red Hot Winter!

Quote of the Week

"You never really understand a person until you consider things from his point of view . . . until you climb into his skin and walk around in it." – Atticus Finch, To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee

It's Free!!!

I hope everyone has recovered from their New Year's Eve celebrations and that you can spend today relaxing with loved ones! I'm so excited to be able to usher in 2011 with an exciting announcement! Rough Cut, the third book in my Black & White Collection, is going to be a free read at Amazon and Barnes and Noble from now until Jan. 14! Woo Hoo! If you haven't had a chance to check out this story, why not take advantage of trying it now for FREE?! Books in the Black & White Collection are all standalone–they only share a theme (wicked fantasies), not characters, so you can read them in any order.

Rough Cut

When the screen fades to black, all that remains is love.

Ty Ransome. Reigning king of Hollywood, producer, actor, Look Magazine's Hottest Man Alive. He has it all—until he reads a book of short stories that touches him in places kept carefully hidden from the tabloid gossip mill. There's only one way to meet the introverted writer—invite her to Tinsel Town to work on a script. The moment he sees her, he realizes why her work haunts him. There's something missing in his life, and it's her.

Gwen steps off the plane with reservations. For one thing, her darkly sexual stories are hardly movie material. Then there's Ty's reputation as a ladies' man. Yet she's won over by his charm and agrees to stay on for a week to get to know him before making her decision. And as the days go by, she discovers there's far more to Ty than a handsome face.

They eat, drink and breathe the characters in their screenplay, re-enacting scenes that delve into the BDSM realm, setting Ty free to unleash his powerful cravings and exposing Gwen's deepest needs. Needs she set free on paper…but is not sure she's ready to make a reality.

Warning: This title contains all the following Tinsel Town essentials: explicit sex on a movie set, anal play in a mansion, BDSM with a hot movie star, capture fantasies while writing a screenplay, bondage in a limo, and, oh yeah, some graphic language—sorry about that.

Excerpt:

 "Now this is the way I like to wake up," a deep voice said beside her.

Gwen opened her eyes, briefly surprised to find her face only inches away from Ty's. She blinked a few times to make sure she wasn't dreaming, then their nighttime conversation drifted back through her consciousness.

"You were supposed to stay on your own side." Her voice was gruff with sleep. As she came fully awake, she became aware of his hand lightly rubbing a bare bit of skin at her waist, beneath her T-shirt.

"So sue me." He leaned so close to her the only air she could feel was that of his soft breath on her cheek. His hand stopped caressing her waist and instead gripped it, pulling her even closer to him.

"I don't think this is a good idea," she whispered, despite the fact her hands were resting, unresisting, on his chest. She'd placed them there to push him away, but instead the traitorous things were exploring the rock-hard definitions of his pecs.

"I think a kiss in the morning is always a good idea."

"Just a kiss?" She cursed her sudden breathlessness.

"Just a kiss, Gwen." She was shocked by her disappointment until he added, "for now."

His lips brushed hers and her body shuddered at the impact. His mouth wasn't gentle, it wasn't easy. He took her lips with a roughness that proclaimed his possession. He took everything she offered with her lips and tongue and demanded more. His hands drifted up to her face, engulfing her cheeks in his firm grip, turning her head exactly the way he wanted it. His teeth nipped at her lower lip and she thought for a moment she heard him growl before his tongue plunged into her mouth, tangling with hers. She'd never been kissed like this in her life and the feeling was heady. It made her dizzy, giddy, reckless and she suddenly realized she wanted more. Hell, she wanted all.

She reached up and held his face to hers, twisting her fingers in his hair. He mimicked the action with her own long tresses and she was amazed by her reaction to his rough touch. Each time he pulled her hair, the sensation of pain flowed pleasurably down her body, causing her hips to flex, searching for relief. Her body felt as if he'd set it aflame and she found her reactions shockingly animalistic.

"Harder. Pull harder," she begged and he responded in turn. His lips trailed along her face, his rough beard scratching her sensitive skin until he reached her ear. He bit her earlobe, pulling her hair at the same time and she cried out, her hips gyrating wildly.

His hard body came over hers as he took control of her wrists, dragging them above her head and holding them firmly in place with one of his hands. She sensed he knew what his actions were doing to her as he pressed his covered cock firmly between her legs, letting her feel the proof of the desire they shared. She wanted to scream at him to take off his pants and give her what she needed, but instinctively she knew he would refuse her.

"Shhh." He tightened his grip on her wrists while planting soft, sweet kisses on her face. "Calm down, gorgeous."

She was panting, frustrated, and she foolishly felt as if she were on the verge of tears.

He leaned back at the sound of her soft cry, the look on his face a perfect mixture of shock, awe and naked, red-hot desire.

He smiled as she struggled to regain composure, her body screaming for relief.

"I can see there will be no such thing as innocent kisses with you," he said.

She blinked rapidly, determined he shouldn't see the tears threatening to fall. Christ, she was a fool.

"I-I, shit." She struggled to free her hands. He released her and she pushed him away. He moved over easily and she realized she wouldn't have been able to budge him if he hadn't permitted it. She walked away from the bed, pressing her back against the wall for support.

"This is not, I mean, I don't—" She was gasping for air and her voice and her body betrayed her, shaking uncontrollably.

He sat up slowly and she knew he was deliberately keeping his movements unhurried lest he frighten her. "Gwen, you didn't do anything wrong."

She wanted to laugh at the understatement of his words. He'd pulled her hair, held her down and she'd responded like a bitch in heat. He didn't think that was wrong, weird?

"I told you before, Ty. I want us to keep our relationship professional. Sex muddies the water. You know that."

"No, I don't think I do. Gwen, there's nothing wrong with admitting that we're attracted to each other sexually. Shit, I can't think of anything I want more than to tie your lovely body to that bed and bury myself between those hot thighs of yours."

"Stop it! Stop saying stuff like that. It isn't going to happen. Ever."

He scowled at her words and rose from the bed, crossing to where she stood, trembling. "Well, I think you and I are about to have our first disagreement."

He leaned toward her as she pressed her body flat against the wall. He caged her in, grasping her hands by the wrists once again and pressing them against the flat surface, just above her head. "You and I are most certainly going to have sex, Gwen. Hard, hot, incredibly intense sex and you're going to love every minute of it."

"You smug, conceited—"

"Pull your pants down," he said as he loosened his grip.

She wanted to deny him, wanted to drive her fists against his chest and tell him to get the hell away from her, but his deep voice, his demanding words spoke to the loneliest part of her soul and she felt as if she'd been sunk neck-deep in quicksand.

"Pull them down now," he repeated, his voice commanding. Clearly he expected her to comply. This was so wrong. God dammit, it was wrong. And yet her body felt alive for the first time ever.

She reached for the waistband of her pajama bottoms and she slowly shimmied the soft cotton over her hips. The material fell to her ankles and she stepped out of it, never taking her gaze off his determined face.

"Good girl," he murmured and she raised her hand to slap him for his condescending comment. He caught her wrist and pressed it against the wall. "You don't want to do that."

She closed her eyes in surrender and he released her hand.

His dominant actions, his powerful words, were truly soothing her weary soul, despite the fact her head was demanding she run away from him. Ty Ransome was the one man who could be her complete and utter downfall, yet rather than escape, she found herself relishing every touch, every word he offered.