Mari Carr's Blog, page 70

Quote for the Day

Found another quote that I really liked!

“Dreams come true; without that possibility, nature would not incite us to have them.” – John Updike

Saturday Snippet

Today’s theme is author’s choice…so let me see…

How about a sneak peek of Bachelor’s Bait? It releases on November 7 and it’s available for presale now. It’s book 3 of the Cocktales series and Sophie’s story.

Snippet:

“Charlotte?” Sophie was annoyed to find the coat-check room unattended. She’d been an idiot to trust Charlotte to keep an eye on it. The woman was too flighty to take the task seriously. She was a regular at the bookstore and when Sophie had foolishly mentioned her problem finding volunteers to help work the event, Charlotte had stepped forward. Sophie had accepted the offer, ignoring the voice telling her Charlotte only wanted to help so she could ogle the cream of society’s crop in a glitzy setting.

Now she was staring at an unprotected room full of expensive shawls and jackets.

“Shit,” she muttered. “Can anyone say liability?” She stepped behind the check-in counter and into the room, intent on finding the extra flyers. Then she’d track down her “volunteer” and read her the riot act for leaving her post unattended.

Spotting the box in a corner, she crossed the small space and bent to retrieve it.

A wolf whistle sounded from the doorway.

Sophie rose quickly but the damage was done. Clearly she’d given someone an eyeful of her ass wrapped in its tight skirt.

Marc leaned against the doorframe, looking far too pleased with the view she’d offered.

“Wow. Sexist much?”

He gave her a seductive grin. She wished her body would stop responding to him so forcefully. Her stomach clenched, her pussy dampened and she was grateful for the box in her hands or Marc would see them trembling.

He was unapologetic. “When I see something beautiful, I feel the need to appreciate it.”

“And being the classy guy you are, you thought you’d whistle at me like a construction worker.”

“I thought you might prefer that response over the first idea that popped into my head.”

“Which was?”

“Stroking my hands over that gorgeous ass you just displayed for me.”

The battle between Sophie’s head and body flared. Her ass cheeks clenched, longing for that caress. Her less visceral side offered a reply. “Then you made the right call because I would have kneed you in the balls. Hard.”

He nodded. “That’s what I thought. Hence my whistle from all the way over here.”

His tone was light and friendly, making it impossible to take offense at his comments. The closet wasn’t that large but his assessment was correct. Several feet protected his balls from her knee.

Sophie subtly pressed her legs together and tried to force air into her lungs. Apparently the space between them wasn’t that safe after all. She flushed as her body heated at their proximity—and semi-privacy.

The observant man’s dark-blue eyes narrowed.

He must be hell on juries. He notices far too much.

He stepped into the room. She tried to hide her shock when he closed the closet door behind him. The darkness was cut by a mellow glow provided by the low-watt fixture hanging in the center of the ceiling, and instantly she was reminded of nights spent beside a dying fire in her family’s large living room. She was a sucker for a fireplace.

Marc’s deep voice cut through the silence. “Maybe I was wrong.”

Her eyes tried to adjust to the dim lighting as he continued to move closer. “About what?” Her throat tightened, making her words sound thick and far too loud in the small room.

Marc didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he took the box of flyers out of her hands, setting it on the floor. “You know I’m going to start coming by the bar, right? I feel the need to become a regular.”

“Why? You get some sick pleasure out of annoying me?”

He shook his head, his voice laced with humor. “No. That’s just a bonus.”

The answer was completely unsatisfactory, even though Sophie liked the idea of him stopping by. Despite her better judgment, she wanted to see him more too. “Then why?” she repeated.

“Because I’ll want to do this again.”

He leaned forward and kissed her.

Bachelor’s Bait is available for presale at Amazon and Barnes and Noble.

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Five for Friday

This week’s Five for Friday comes from Rough Cut.

Chapter One

Setting the stage

“You need to get up, Bambi. This isn’t the way to win a part in my movie.”

“But you haven’t let me show you how talented am I,” whined the buxom blonde Pamela Anderson wannabe.

“Oh I have no doubt you’re talented, but this isn’t the time or place. I’m waiting for—”

“The windows in this limo are tinted black. No one will see.”

Ty swatted away the woman’s hands each time she attempted to grasp his family jewels, wondering how in the hell he got into messes like this.

“That’s not the point. I’m at the airport to pick someone up and the flight has already landed.”

“So your friend can join us when he arrives. There’s plenty of me to go around.” Bambi thrust out her barely covered breasts. Those babies must have cost her a pretty penny.

“I’m picking up a woman.” He hoped that fact would deter the so-called actress.

“Man or woman. I’m not fussy. She won’t be disappointed either.”

Ty tried not to growl in frustration at the woman’s relentlessness. He’d asked the temp agency to send over a secretary and he’d expressly stated No actresses. Miss Bambi Starr was quickly pushing him to the brink of losing what the tabloids liked to refer to as his infamous Ransome temper.

“I’m going to tell you one more time to get up, Bambi.”

His words fell on deaf ears as the woman finally managed to get a hold on the zipper tab of his suit slacks. Of course, her death grip on his balls had distracted him a bit. Her head began to lower toward his lap and he hastily put his hands in her hair to push her back.

Unfortunately, at that exact moment, the door to the limousine opened and Gwen Preston was ushered in, unaware of what was happening until she sat down and his driver slammed the door behind her.

“Oh.” Gwen’s eyes widened at the racy image he and Bambi were presenting. “I’m sorry. Shit. I-I—”

She quickly turned her face away from them and Ty could see from her reflection in the window that she’d closed her eyes tightly. The loveliest blush crept up her slender neck. Jesus, an innocent woman. He’d lived in Hollywood so long he’d forgotten such a creature existed.

As Gwen’s hand crept to the door handle, he quickly reached out to grip her wrist. “Wait.”

She turned to look at him, her face a mixture of anger and surprise.

“Bambi.” He pushed the silly actress away from him and then opened his car door quickly—all with one hand. He refused to release Gwen. “I want you to go sit up front with my driver.”

When she looked as if she intended to argue, he let the reins of his temper go. “Now!” He shouted loud enough that both women in the car jumped. His yell also attracted the unwanted attention of a dozen or so people milling around the outside of the airport.

“It’s Ty Ransome,” someone screamed. He pushed Bambi out of the car and slammed the door. Bob, his driver, slid down the glass partition, no doubt realizing a mob of fans were about to descend on the car.

“Sir?” Bob asked, awaiting instructions.

“Give Bambi one minute to join you up there. If she isn’t in this car by then, leave without her.”

Bob nodded and slid the glass back up.

Ty glanced over and noticed Gwen quietly taking in everything with a scowl on her face. From her perspective he must look like the world’s most heartless bastard—getting his jollies from some bimbo before kicking her to the curb. Dammit. This was not the way he’d planned for this meeting to go. He desperately wanted—oh hell, he needed Gwen to work with him on the project he’d invited her to California to discuss.

“You can let go of me now,” she said tersely.

“I can explain.” He heard the front passenger door slam and the car took off with enough speed that he and Gwen were thrown back against their seats just as cameras began to flash around them. With the car in motion, he released her wrist.

“You don’t owe me any explanations. I’m a big girl, and I’m perfectly aware of what was going on. Perhaps you should ask your driver to pull over so Bambi—was that her name?”

He nodded once and struggled to regain control of his increasing ire. “Gwen—”

She ignored him. “So that Bambi and I can switch places. Clearly she wasn’t done and as I have no intention of finishing what she started, I’d hate for you to die of an acute case of blue balls.”

He took several deep breaths, hoping it would calm him down, but clearly nothing was going to make today better. It had started its downhill spiral when his personal assistant quit first thing this morning. Then his chef had inadvertently set a small fire in the kitchen because Ty’s insane ex-girlfriend had decided to sneak into the house and put his favorite pair of Gucci leather dress shoes in the oven. As a result, he’d asked his manager to change all the locks in his house to prevent the woman from enacting any other petty acts of revenge.

Then the co-producer for his current project threatened to walk over some minuscule plot point and the studio bitched about the amount of money he’d spent on the film he’d just completed. The fact they stood to make a killing on the movie didn’t matter. Greedy bastards always wanted more. Between the temp agency siccing Bambi on him and Gwen’s refusal to listen to his explanation, he felt as if his head was going to explode.

“I can only imagine how it must feel for a man with your legendary sex drive to—”

“You may want to reconsider finishing that statement,” he barked. “Not one more word, Ms. Preston. I mean it.”

“Tell your driver to drop me off at the nearest hotel. I think our negotiations have ended.”

He shook his head, unsure where his anger toward Gwen had come from, but the fact of the matter was his cock had been soft as a down pillow when Bambi had been trying to blow him. That state had changed rapidly the second Gwen entered the limo. She looked different in real person, considering he’d only ever seen her once on a television interview. She was a petite, willowy redhead with porcelain skin, unusual in sunny California. Her bright blue eyes flashed sparks of anger at him, yet despite her ire, he was assailed with an instant attraction.

He was used to beautiful women. Hell, he was surrounded by them twenty-four seven. Gwen wasn’t beautiful by Hollywood standards, yet she was certainly striking, even alluring.

“Oh no, Gwen. Our negotiations haven’t even started yet.”

“I thought that you were different, but you really are as arrogant and chauvinistic as the tabloids say. I don’t usually believe those rags, but I think they were dead-on where you’re concerned. I’m going to tell you one more time to let me out of this car, Mr. Ransome, or I swear to God, I’ll slap you with a kidnapping charge so fast it’ll make your head spin.”

He grinned at her, aware the look only fueled her anger further. They’d corresponded through email and phone calls regularly during the past few weeks and he had felt they were striking up a friendship. He regretted his harsh words, but he couldn’t shake the image of her on her knees in front of him. He’d have to make amends, because he wasn’t about to let her get away, regardless of her paltry threats.

“Gwen, I apologize for my rudeness. I can assure you I am the man from the phone calls. Today, well, my only excuse is that it has been a rather long, painful day.”

“It’s only ten a.m.”

He nodded and sighed heavily. “Nonetheless, I am sorry. How was your flight? Pleasant, I hope?”

She narrowed her eyes at his abrupt about-face and quick change of topic. “Mr. Ransome—”

“Ty,” he corrected her. She’d been calling him Ty on the phone for weeks and he loved the sound of his name spoken in her sultry voice.

She shook her head and started to refuse, but he reached over and placed a gentle finger against her lips.

“Call me Ty.”

He could tell by her erratic breathing she wasn’t as unaffected by him as she seemed. Perhaps she was also feeling the overwhelming heat that was making it difficult for him to concentrate despite the cool air-conditioning blowing over them.

“Mr. R—” He pressed his finger harder against her lips. For a moment, he considered silencing her another way—by placing his lips against hers. He could just imagine using his tongue to caress her mouth, to slowly study the contours of her warm, sweet lips.

“Say Ty, Gwen. Say it right now.”

“Ty,” she whispered.

Blown away by her capitulation and the sexy, husky nature of her voice, he shook his head, trying to regain his wits.

What the hell was he thinking? Christ, he knew what he was thinking—he had a hard-on that could drive nails into concrete and that lack of blood to the brain was driving him to say stupid shit. Dominant by nature, he was usually able to keep his darker side under wraps, especially around strangers. However, Gwen didn’t feel like a stranger. She felt like someone he’d known forever and he could tell by the flush on her face and soft panting that she wasn’t immune to his commands.

However, she was looking at him with suspicious eyes. Anxious to recover lost ground, he cleared his throat. “Now that we’ve gotten the issue of names out of the way, I think we should discuss a timeline for writing the script. Figure out a schedule and draft a rough outline of the story. I’ve taken the liberty of setting you up in my guest house for the duration of your stay.”

“I haven’t agreed to write anything and I’d prefer to stay in a hotel. I believe I mentioned that on the phone.”

Her voice was calmer and he was pleased to see her earlier anger had abated. Her confidence was reemerging. It was that self-assurance that led him to issue his offer. He’d seen an interview she’d done several months ago on a local cable channel. Her poise and quiet intelligence had spoken to him so deeply he’d gone out and purchased everything she’d ever written.

When he’d read a collection of short stories she’d co-authored entitled Evening Songs, his attention had fallen from her to her co-author on the book, Michael Haynes. It was Haynes’ story “The Darkest Night” that had sparked his serious interest and planted the seed of turning the stories into a screenplay.

For weeks, he’d attempted to find the elusive writer and had almost given up hope. Then one night, he’d met a producer friend and his wife in New York for drinks. The wife worked in the publishing business, so he’d casually mentioned Haynes. She’d told him that Michael Haynes was actually a pseudonym for Gwen Preston. Gwen had written all the stories in Evening Songs, including “The Darkest Night”.

“I think you’ll discover I didn’t get where I am today because I accept the word no easily. Why don’t you save both of us a lot of time and wasted energy by merely agreeing? You said yourself in our last email communication that you were fascinated by

Hee hee–that’s where it ends!

Rough Cut is available at Samhain, Amazon, Barnes and Noble, Sony and ARe.

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Quote for the Day

Thought I’d share a quote I read that I really liked.

“To be yourself in a world that is constantly trying to make you something else is the greatest accomplishment.” – Ralph Waldo Emerson

Anybody near Canton, Ohio?

This weekend, I’ve been participating in Ellora’s Cave’s Romanticon. Today is the big “open to the public” book signing from noon to 4 p.m. Not sure if any of y’all are close by, but I sure would love to meet you. Directions and details can be found here. The cavemen will be there too!

Participating authors include:

Anderson, Heidi Lynn
Andrews, Liz
Anson, Cris
Austin, Nicole
Avet, Danica
Barrymire, Lea
Booth, Karen
Brice, Dee
Bristol, Sidney
Brookes, Sara
Brown, Koko
Bryan, Tiffany
Cale, Emily
Carlisle, Lisa
Carlysle, Regina
Carnes, Cara
Carr, Cassandra
Cavanaugh, Virginia
Cayto, Samantha
Cheever, Sam
Claire, Angela
Coddington, Kathleen
Coi, J.K.
Cole, Regina
d’Abo, Christine
Daniels, Kristin
DeLand, Cerise
Devlin, Sasha
Diaz, Dalton
Dohner, Laurann
Doyle, Karla
Drake, Isabelle
Duvall, Ruby
Ellis, M.A.
Evers, ShoShanna
Fenichel, A.S.
Fox, Lisa
Freeman, Mari
Garson, Dena
Green, Bronwyn
Griffin, A.M. *new author!
Harbin, Mandy
Hawley, Francesca
Hill, Joey W.
Holt, Desiree / Rochelle, Judith


Hunter, Aline
Jacks, Cindy
Jacobs, Ann
Kennedy, Stacey
King, Sherri L.
Kulig, Kathy
Lafleur, Lynn
Langford, Kaenar
LaRose, Jennifer
Lash, Kathleen
Laurey, Rosemary / Oh, Madeleine
Lee, Cindy
Lee, Fran
Linger, Voirey
Llewellyn, A. J.
Locke, Afton
MacKenzie, Evie
Matthews, Lena
Mayburn, Ann
Mays, Judy
McKenna, Cara
Miller, Cait
Nina, Tara
Paulin, Brynn
Poole, Kate
Rainey, Anne
Robinson, Sky
Ryder, Cristal
Rylon, Jayne
Stivali, Karen
Stockton, Frances
Storm, Ruby
Summers, Sierra
Thorn, Lacey
Trace, Piper
Vaughn, Eve
York, Sabrina

Saturday Snippet

Today’s theme is rain on me. Because when it rains…it pours. Thought I’d share a snippet from White Knight. Shea is having a very, very bad night. Lucky for her…there’s a white knight ready to rescue her!

Snippet

“Where’s the new waitress?”

“She was sick. I sent her home early.”

“Home?” Travis immediately felt a shard of panic.

“Yes. I know it’s not a familiar concept for you, but typically it has four walls, a roof, pictures of smiling people and food in the refrigerator.”

“Jack’s a lucky man,” he deadpanned.

“I know. I have work to do. Nighty-night.”

He hung up. Where the hell could Shea have gone? She clearly didn’t have a home to go to. He watched the monitors carefully, ticking off the twenty minutes after Bill’s departure, hoping she would emerge from the bathroom, that she’d found a way to hide herself.

When she didn’t appear, his anxiety took over. Glancing toward the window, he saw a flash of lightning pierce the sky followed by a loud boom of thunder. The rain had started as a drizzle but now a full-fledged storm was in effect.

Shea was out in that. And she was sick.

Grabbing his raincoat and an umbrella, he cursed himself for a fool, wondering where in the hell he’d begin his search. All he knew was he needed to find her. Needed to know she was safe.

Stepping out into the driving rain, he crossed the parking lot to the street. He looked both ways, studying the signs, hoping for a clue. Glancing directly across from him, he spotted the diner. And Shea sitting in a booth by the window.

He sighed in relief. That didn’t take long.

As he walked into the diner, he immediately noticed her damp clothing clinging to her shivering body. He suspected she’d been waiting in the rain, hoping for a chance to get back into the club before it closed. Her trembling hands were wrapped tightly around a coffee cup. She coughed and Travis frowned at the deep, congested sound.

He took a seat at the table next to her booth. “Lousy night.”

She looked up at his voice. Besides the waitress, they were the only two people in the place. Once she determined he was talking to her, she smiled slightly and nodded.

He gestured to her wet clothing. “Looks like you got caught in the storm.”

“Yeah,” she said. “Forgot my umbrella.”

The waitress interrupted. He ordered coffee. While the woman went to get his drink, he looked at Shea. “You had dinner yet?”

She shook her head, though he spotted the suspicion in her gaze. He suppressed a grimace. He must look like king of the losers, trying to pick her up in a diner. Screw it. By the end of this night, she was going to know exactly who he was. “I was about to order a sandwich. You want to join me? My treat.”

“Oh no, I couldn’t. We don’t even know each other.”

He could tell she was hungry. From what he’d observed, she lived on cereal bars and peanut butter sandwiches. She was painfully thin and he ached to change that.

“I’m Travis, the only other person in L.A. crazy enough to be out on a night like this.”

“I’m Shea.”

He picked up his menu and slid into the seat across from her. “Nice to meet you.” He handed her the menu. “And despite the fact I did just say I was crazy, I can assure you I’m harmless. Mostly.”

She took the menu from him but didn’t look at it. “I’m not really hungry, but thanks for the offer.”

Now that he was closer, he could see the dark circles under her eyes, made more prominent by her pale skin. She was definitely sick.

“If you don’t mind me asking, you don’t look like you feel well. Shouldn’t you be home rather than out on a rainy night?”

She closed her eyes and sighed sadly. “I’m, um, staying with a friend. I accidentally got locked out and I don’t have a key.”

Her comment wasn’t too far from the truth. “Staying with a friend? So you’re here on vacation?”

She shook her head. “No, I just moved here. I haven’t had a chance to find my own place yet.”

The waitress delivered his coffee and topped up Shea’s. “You two want anything to eat?”

Travis shook his head, revising his previous plan. She wasn’t well enough to eat. He intended to get her back to the club as soon as possible. First he needed to gain her trust. If he told her who he was too soon, she was likely to run off.

“Where are you from?” he asked.

“Vegas.”

He lifted his coffee cup and Shea raised her hand in warning.

“That coffee’s terrible,” she confided quietly.

He took a cautious sip. It was strong as shit and thick as paste. Just the way he liked it. Putting the cup back down, he grinned. “It’s okay. At least it’s hot.”

She crinkled his nose. Clearly she didn’t think that fact redeemed it.

“What brings you from Vegas to L.A.?”

“I needed a fresh start.”

It was an innocuous answer and fired a whole list of new questions in his mind. “Sounds dire. What happened in Vegas?”

She laughed softly. “Given the city’s motto, I’m afraid I’m not at liberty to say.”

“Has to stay there, right?” he joked.

She stifled a yawn. She was worn out. He watched her rub her eyes, battling to remain awake. He was overcome by the urge to bundle her up and drag her back to the club.

“Were you born in Vegas?”

She nodded. “Yep. I’m the embodiment of a bad Vegas cliché. Daughter of a stripper.”

“And your father?”

She raised her eyebrow. “Really? I need to answer that? I have no idea who my father is. Not sure my mother knows either.”

There was no anger in her response. In fact, he thought he saw a glimmer of humor there. “Wow, cliché in every sense of the word.”

“In so many ways, it’s not even funny.”

“I take it you didn’t follow in Mom’s footsteps?”

She grimaced. “Hell no. I’m never taking my clothes off for money.”

Travis cleared his throat uncomfortably, considering all the times he’d offered women cash to masturbate in front of him for his pleasure. Hell, he made his living from a club that enticed the audience with bare skin and fake sex.

“I waited tables in Vegas for a few years after high school. Started living with this guy I was dating. Life was okay for a while, I guess. One night I came home from work. My boyfriend had lost yet another job and was drunk off his ass. I lost my temper. He lost his and he hit me. After he passed out, I realized I was about a million miles from where I wanted to be.”

Travis clenched his fists, wishing her asshole boyfriend was around right now. “What did you do?”

“I cleaned out my bank account, threw a few things in a bag and bought the cheapest bus ticket out of town.”

“Los Angeles?”

She nodded. “There are worse places to end up.”

“When you say fresh start, you mean fresh start.”

She smiled, wincing slightly, but the effort seemed to cause her pain. She rubbed her temples wearily and he assumed she was suffering from a headache. “Yeah. It was probably impulsive and dumb, but I don’t regret it.”

“Even now? When you’re sitting in wet clothes in a diner in the middle of the night because you’re locked out of the club?”

She looked at him, her gaze suddenly suspicious. “What?”

He stood slowly. “Come on, Shea. I’m taking you home.”

Her face completed the transformation from shock to sheer panic in less than a second. “I told you. I’m locked out.”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a key ring. “And I have the key that will get you back into Scoundrels. Let’s go before you shake yourself out of that booth. Your chills are getting worse.”

“Who are you?”

White Knight is available at Ellora’s Cave, Amazon, Barnes and Noble, Sony and  All Romance Ebooks.

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Five for Friday

Today’s Five for Friday comes from book 2 in the Wild Irish series, Ruby Tuesday.

Chapter One

“Oh. My. God,” Riley murmured behind her.

Teagan Collins struggled not to roll her eyes as she turned to see what had elicited such a response from her younger sister. Riley was the queen of sarcastic humor and no doubt she’d spotted someone who would now fall victim to her cutting wit. Typically it was a comment about the way someone dressed or styled their hair. She knew the rest of the family found Riley’s little remarks funny, but sometimes she felt they were just plain mean.

“I’m late start—” She broke off mid-sentence when she saw her sister actually appeared to have gone pale. “What’s wrong?”

Riley stuttered a few moments before she could speak. “It’s…it’s h-him.”

Teagan turned around and glanced at the men drinking in the pub. Summer was Baltimore’s peak tourism season—it was currently a Tuesday night in late fall. To say the crowd was sparse was putting it lightly. A few regulars sat at the bar, hanging out with her pop and her brother Tris, fighting rather loudly over the results of Sunday’s football game. It was clearly going to be a long, hard winter as the Ravens didn’t appear to be winning enough to suit this pack of rabid fans.

An older couple, Mr. and Mrs. Tibbs, occupied a table near the stage. She smiled when she saw them. They were quite possibly as close to groupies as she would ever get. She wasn’t foolish enough to aspire to singing greatness. She knew achieving fame and fortune as a professional singer was as likely as winning the lottery. Besides, her love for music centered more on songwriting than performing, but she did appreciate the kind comments and encouragement the elderly couple gave her each week when she took the stage.

The only other two people in the place were strangers to her. She studied the two guys who sat in a corner booth, engrossed in what appeared to be a serious conversation. One was blond and somewhat handsome while the other had dark hair and an unattractively bushy beard. His face was in shadow, making it difficult to distinguish his features. She guessed they were both in their mid-twenties.

“Him who?” Teagan asked.

“Sky Mitchell,” Riley whispered, her voice almost reverent.

“Who’s Sky Mitchell?”

Her sister’s gaze left the two men and traveled to Teagan, wide with disbelief. “Are you freaking kidding me? Tell me you’re joking.”

“About what?”

“You honest to God don’t know who Sky Mitchell is?” Riley asked, her voice laced with genuine amazement.

“Should I know who he is? Did you go to high school with him or something?” Teagan glanced back at the table and tried to decide if either of the men looked familiar. They didn’t, although in all fairness, the lighting in the pub was dim and the dark-haired man had a baseball cap pulled down low over his face.

“High school!” Riley said. “Don’t I wish! Sky is only the lead singer of the hottest rock group on the radio these days. Please God, tell me you’ve heard of The Universe.”

Teagan nodded, her eyes narrowed. She’d have to live under a rock not to have heard of The Universe. “Of course I’ve heard of them. I just didn’t know the name of their lead singer. Besides, that’s not really my kind of music.”

“Oh, that’s right,” Riley began. Teagan braced herself for the words she knew were coming next. “They sing songs that were written in this decade.”

“There is nothing wrong with folk music, Riley. Nothing wrong with enjoying songs that have some deeper meaning than ‘I wanna get laid’.”

“You know, not all songs revolve around sex these days.”

Teagan shrugged. “I wouldn’t know since I can’t understand a word any of them is screaming—uh, sorry—singing.”

“Sky’s not like that. His voice is pure gold. And he is tee-totally hot.”

Teagan looked back at the men, certain neither of them really fell into that category. “Which one is Sky?”

Riley groaned. “Holy shit. I honestly can’t believe we carry around the same genes sometimes.” Teagan silently agreed. “He’s the one in the hat, wearing the fake beard.”

“How can you tell he’s Sky Mitchell? I can’t even see that guy’s face.”

“I would know that hunka-hunka burnin’ love anywhere,” Riley joked.

“Aw jeez. Well, I’ve officially been in this conversation five minutes longer than I wanted to be. I’m going to go sing.”

“In front of him?” Riley asked. For the first time in her life, Teagan thought her sister seemed to eye her with an air of respect.

“That’s the general idea.”

“You aren’t nervous?”

“Why in the world would I be nervous? I sing in front of strangers practically every day.”

“But that’s Sky Mitchell,” Riley pointed out.

“So you keep saying.”

Riley took a step back and studied Teagan’s appearance with obvious distaste. “Why don’t you run upstairs and put on some makeup first? Maybe change out of your hippie garb. I’ve got a smoking-hot, red leather miniskirt that would—”

Teagan shook her head. “My outfit is fine. Why don’t you go get dolled up for him? You’re clearly interested.”

Excitement sparked in Riley’s eyes. “I can’t believe I didn’t think of that!” She turned toward the stairs that led to the family’s apartment. “Holy hell. I almost offered Sky Mitchell to you. What the fuck was I thinking?”

“I have no idea,” Teagan muttered, secretly amused Riley would actually think for one second she’d go after a rock star.

“Don’t let him leave. I’ll be back in a flash. And please, Teag, don’t sing your usual shit. Sing something contemporary, upbeat—freaking sexy.”

Teagan narrowed her eyes. “Gee, I don’t think I know any songs like that.”

Riley was too distracted to notice the smartass remark. “You’re a songwriter, for chrissake. Make something up. Just don’t let him leave this bar ‘til I get back.” With that, Riley disappeared and Teagan fought to regain her composure, her energy. Conversations with Riley tended to wear her out.

Her sister Keira had moved out over the summer to shack up with her handsome English professor, Will, leaving Teagan to share a bedroom with their younger sister. Despite the fact that her brother Killian was currently stationed in Iraq and her baby brother Sean had found his own apartment, there were still four Collins kids left at home. And sometimes she thought Riley should actually count as more than one sibling. Her sister was a handful on a good day.

She glanced at the two men in the corner again and panicked for a moment when the blond man rose to leave. Riley would seriously freak out if they were gone when she returned. The two men shook hands and she overheard Sky say he’d meet his friend back at the hotel later. The blond left and Sky leaned back for a moment. She watched him take in the room, his eyes only briefly brushing over her as she stood in the center of the room with her guitar. Then he opened a notebook and picked up a pen. She walked to the stage, wondering what he was writing.

Probably his memoirs. No doubt one of those VH1-style nightmare tales of the poor, pitiful rock star who’s overcome drug abuse and endless orgies to go on to bigger and better things.

She struggled not to roll her eyes at the thought as she took her place on the stage and quickly tuned her guitar. She smiled at the patrons and sang a few of her favorites—songs by John Prine, Leonard Cohen and Nanci Griffith. As she sang, she kept one eye on Sky—who continued to write in his notebook, only glancing up occasionally—and one eye on the staircase to the apartment. Riley sure was taking her sweet time getting ready. Of course, knowing her sister, Riley had decided Sky Mitchell was worthy of what the family had jokingly dubbed the “Saturday Night Special”. Riley spent hours primping prior to going out and partying until the wee hours every Saturday.

From the standards, Teagan moved on to some of her original material, singing four songs the patrons of the bar had heard often. She smiled when the regulars sang along during the chorus. She loved singing her own songs the best. The music never failed to move her.

She decided to end the set with a new song she’d just finished writing that morning. She was proud of the song, Maybe Tomorrow, and felt perhaps it was one of the best she’d ever written. At least it fit into Riley’s request for an upbeat song. It had a fun, whimsical melody with playful words. As she began strumming the guitar, she felt herself floating away to what she thought of as her happy place. Every now and then, she’d simply lose herself in the music, in the sheer joy of singing and playing. She let her voice flow around the words and weave itself into the sounds coming from her beloved acoustic guitar. The guitar had been her mother’s before she died and it was Teagan’s most cherished possession.

As the song ended, she was surprised to realize most of the chatter in the bar had died down. Instead of the polite applause she was accustomed to, she received hearty cheers from the old guys at the bar and Mr. and Mrs. Tibbs had risen to their feet. She grinned and thanked them.

Putting her guitar down on the stand, she’d forgotten all about Sky Mitchell—until she stepped off the small stage and bumped into him at the foot of the stairs.

 

Sky watched the colorful gypsy descend the two steps of the stage, not even aware of the fact he was crowding the small space at the bottom until she ran into him. She stumbled slightly and he quickly wrapped his arms around her waist to steady her. He was surprised to discover how small and shapely she was beneath her voluminous clothing. With her long, flowing skirt and baggy, loose-fitting top, he’d been unable to discern if she had any figure at all.

Ruby Tuesday is available at Ellora’s Cave, Amazon, Sony, Kobo, All Romance Ebooks and Barnes and Noble.

Want five more? Check these out.

Jambrea Jo Jones

Bianca D’Arc

Lila Dubois

Rhian Cahill

Lexxie Couper

Have Monster, Will Travel

Have you read a book by Lila Dubois yet? If not, try this one! She has a new release out today called Have Monster, Will Travel. It’s part of her uber-smart and clever Monsters in Hollywood series at Samhain.

She’d always heard Hollywood was full of monsters. She didn’t know they meant actual monsters.

Monsters in Hollywood, Book 4

All of Hollywood is talking about Calypso Production’s new top-secret action movie, and Joanna is tapped to be the Production Designer. There’s just one big issue: the lead actors are monsters. Literally.

Bound by tradition and discipline, Tokaki’s clan of shapeshifers has maintained the old ways even as they’ve retreated from the human race. When members of another clan come up with a plan to expose and explain their hidden existence, he agrees to help. As the warrior who trains all others, he knows how to inflict both the maximum, and minimum, amount of damage. Because of this experience he’s asked to become something they call a “stunt coordinator”.

When Joanna and Tokaki meet it’s electric, and not just because Joanna watches him shift from a massive white tiger into a handsome, naked man. Tokaki is fascinated by the outside world, especially Joanna, who’s colorful in more ways than one. When he takes Joanna to a hidden temple deep in the Chinese mountains, neither expects she’ll be risking her very life. In order to save the woman he loves, Tokaki must turn to his family for help, risking the secrets his clan has kept for a millennium.

Product Warnings

This title contains an artistic woman, a demanding warrior, and sexy misuse of temple grounds.

Here’s Lila!

Thank you very much, Mari, for letting me guest blog! I have to give you credit because as I was writing this I reached a point where I wasn’t sure how much trouble the heroine’s actions were going to cause. When I asked you, you said “mortal peril!” and so off went the heroine, into mortal peril!

I’m delighted that finally, many years after Gone with the Monster came out, Have Monster, Will Travel, the fourth book in the Monsters in Hollywood series is being released October 9th.

Available from: Samhain Publishing –  Amazon –  B&N

I love movies. I don’t know many people who hate movies. Though I do have an uncle who hasn’t been to a theater since the release of the original Star Wars because he said after those anything would be a let down. I went to the University of Southern California, which has one of the best, if not the best, film school in the country. This meant that I spent four years getting dragged to indie film screenings, getting up at dawn to be an extra in student films, and rolling my eyes at the pretentiousness of my film friends. Those friends have now moved on to some exciting jobs in film and TV, and they were the inspiration for the series.

In Have Monster, Will Travel production is gearing up for the movie, and the band of friends—owners of the production company making the movie—aren’t enough. It takes hundreds of people to make a movie, and it was time to start meeting some of them in this book. Joanna is hired to be the production designer—which is a very cool job. Check out this link for a real life production designer’s site. But it’s not just human crew they need. As a race of warriors fighting isn’t a problem for the monsters, but real fighting and choreographed fighting for the silver screen are very different things. Since no human stunt coordinator could design the fights for the massive, winged monsters, they bring in the most revered fighter and trainer among their people—Tokaki—to act as stunt coordinator.

Joanna and Tokaki are attracted to each other from the start, but they’re from very different worlds. Joanna finds out first hand just how dangerous Tokaki’s world can be, and Tokaki learns what it means to move heaven and earth to be with the one your love.

If you’ve read the other Monsters, then I hope you enjoy Have Monster, Will Travel. If you haven’t read them this is a great place to jump in. You can discover, along with Joanna, just what it means to find out that monsters are real.

She’d always heard Hollywood was full of monsters. She didn’t know they meant actual monsters.

All of Hollywood is talking about Calypso Production’s new top-secret action movie, and Joanna is tapped to be the Production Designer. There’s just one big issue: the lead actors are monsters. Literally.

Bound by tradition and discipline, Tokaki’s clan of shapeshifers has maintained the old ways even as they’ve retreated from the human race. When members of another clan come up with a plan to expose and explain their hidden existence, he agrees to help. As the warrior who trains all others, he knows how to inflict both the maximum, and minimum, amount of damage. Because of this experience he’s asked to become something they call a “stunt coordinator”.

When Joanna and Tokaki meet it’s electric, and not just because Joanna watches him shift from a massive white tiger into a handsome, naked man. Tokaki is fascinated by the outside world, especially Joanna, who’s colorful in more ways than one. When he takes Joanna to a hidden temple deep in the Chinese mountains, neither expects she’ll be risking her very life. In order to save the woman he loves, Tokaki must turn to his family for help, risking the secrets his clan has kept for a millennium.

–

Here’s the Prologue from Have Monster, Will Travel

© Lila Dubois

They wouldn’t be able to keep the secret much longer.

“What are our options?” Lena sat at the head of Calypso Production’s conference table, the Los Angeles County Museum of Art visible through the floor to ceiling windows at her back.

Jane sat at her right, a copy of the script in front of her. “Without the rest of the pre-pro crew, we can’t go forward. We need more people.”

“If we bring them on, we have to tell them the truth.” Luke, Lena’s boyfriend, tapped his fingers restlessly on the table.

“No. No more people. We have to keep this quiet for as long as we can.” Margo’s voice was grim. The usually sassy Latina was dressed causally in a T-shirt and jeans, hair back in a loose ponytail. Her fiancé was seated next to her. The over six-foot tall Runako leaned forward, planting his elbow on the table hard enough to rattle the cups.

“I’ll protect you.” Before Runako had, er, kidnapped Margo, the real magnitude of what they were doing hadn’t hit the five friends who owned Calypso Productions. They’d known they were taking on something big when they agreed to make a movie about Runako, Luke, Henry and Michael’s people.

When Runako and Margo fell into the hands of those who wanted to dissect and kill Runako barely escaping, the project had gone from exciting challenge to grim life-or-death battle. If they screwed this up, they would lose more than production costs.

“Once it’s out that we’re releasing a monster movie in the summer, everyone will start asking who’s working on it,” Lena said. The reality of Hollywood was that if they were going to produce a summer blockbuster, they needed to attach blockbuster names to the project, above the line.

“It’ll come out at some point anyway, and wasn’t that all part of our publicity campaign?” Cali, the movie’s director, held up a copy of a Hollywood tabloid, folded back to a picture of Akta with Runako, Henry and Luke on the red carpet at a charity gala. They’d purchased the tickets and sent Akta, who was a recognizable star, with the guys as a way of introducing them to Hollywood.

The caption under the picture read, “The stars of Calypso Production’s top-secret new project. Akta Patel and her unknown escorts.”

Akta tipped back in her chair, bracing her knees on the conference table. She sat between Henry and Luke, who would star in the movie with her. Calypso Productions had only recently learned that Henry and Runako were both actors—Henry considered the best actor of their people. They’d started script read-throughs, and it fell on Akta to give them, along with Luke, a crash course in acting for the screen. Jane, the resident screenwriter, had written the script for them, so they’d basically be playing themselves, but still, if they didn’t translate to the camera the whole thing would fall apart.

“Our publicity campaign is to make sure everyone falls in love with them,” Lena said, gesturing around the table at the guys, “so that when the movie comes out, and then they come out, they’ll already have people on their side.”

“We know that, we helped come up with that plan.” Cali wasn’t known for her patience. “But I’m telling you, we’ve gone as far as we can with just us. Two producers, half the lead actors, a screenwriter and a director don’t make a movie. If we’re serious about starting production—” Cali motioned to Margo, who, in her role of line producer, had been working up start-date-less timelines. “—we need a production schedule, we need the rest of the above-the-line people. We need to know how we’re making this movie.”

“What does above the line mean?” Runako looked to Margo.

“It basically means anyone who could have any real influence in how the movie is made, or the storyline.”

“But we are all here.”

Margo grimaced slightly. “Yes and no. We know what we want to do, we have a lot of it figured out, but usually a casting director is above the line, and in our case special effects may have better ideas as to how to shoot this. Special effects—which usually means actual real effects like blowing up cars and fake blood—means we need the special effects coordinator.”

“But it will be easier to make, we won’t need all those special effects…” Akta interjected.

“Fucking actors.” Cali threw her hands back. “So when Runako’s character dies do you want me to actually kill him? What should I do on the second take?”

“Fine, sorry. What do you need?”

“At least a director of photograph, production designer, VFX supervisor and special effects supervisor. Location scout. Casting. SpecFX make-up since we have no idea what it will take to make-up these three.” Cali jabbed her finger at the men. “Akta, don’t talk to me about how you were art director on some crappy indie film or I swear to God I’ll come across this table. We need big guns.”

“Who are you thinking?” Lena’s voice was calm as she tried to keep the tension down.

“If we’re serious about keeping this tight, I know who we could get to serve as PD. She’d be able to pull up-and-comers in visual and special effects.”

There was a beat of silence as everyone put together who Cali was talking about. The four men seated at the table looked blankly at each other.

“Uh, Cali, she hates you.” Jane bit her lower lip.

“Yea, I don’t know why.” Cali slumped back in her seat, tugging on the frayed cuff of her USC sweatshirt.

“You told her she was getting fat senior year.”

“She was getting fat, and I said it in a nice way. I thought she’d appreciate the heads up. Sixty hours a week in front of her computer or sketching crazy stuff while eating those weird fish crackers was not doing her any good.”

“There’s no nice way to tell someone they’re getting fat, and telling her she was fat was the least of what you did,” Akta said.

“Well, now she’s one of the best creative minds in the industry.” Lena was twirling her pen as she considered. “She’s never handled a summer action film, but she’s an amazing designer, has contacts at Industrial Light and Magic, and she knows everyone.”

“Exactly. We need her.”

–

Want more? Click here to read the full first chapter.

ISBN 978-1-61921-091-2

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Saturday Snippet

There’s nothing in the world like a best friend. Today’s snippets explore this very special bond. In White Knight, Emma and Travis have been best friends for years.

Snippet:

“There you are.” Emma came up next to her. “Do you have a minute?”

Shea nodded and felt ice form in the pit of her stomach. She’d been living on pins and needles waiting for Travis to tell Emma about her sleepovers in the club, but so far he’d kept her secret. “Sure. What’s up?”

Emma pulled her to a quiet corner. “That’s what I was hoping you could tell me.”

Shea bit her lip. The jig was up. “Emma, I—”

“Jessica is here to take over your tables for the rest of the night.”

Oh God. She was fired. She became lightheaded from panic and her voice failed.

“Travis has requested that you bring dinner for the two of you up to his office. When did you meet Travis?”

Confused, Shea struggled to take a breath. “I’m not fired?”

“Fired?” Emma’s surprised tone sent a wave of relief through her. “Why the hell would you be fired?”

“I don’t know,” she hedged. “It was just the way you said Jessica would relieve me.”

“God, Shea. You’ll have to get a clue sometime and realize I like you. You’re the hardest-working, most reliable waitress I have. You’d have to do something pretty terrible at this point for me to fire you. But don’t let that tempt you to try,” she finished with a wink.

Shea smiled uneasily. How would Emma feel if she knew the truth?

“That still doesn’t explain how you know Travis and why he’s arranged for you to have a night off so the two of you can have dinner. He never socializes with the staff and he never goes out on dates, so you’ve sort of floored me here. I’m dying of curiosity.”

Shea tried to come up with an appropriate answer. She didn’t want to appear like one of those girls who slept with the boss to get promotions or raises or something. “We ran into each other at that diner across the street a few days ago. He recognized me and started a conversation.” She decided it was best to stick as closely to the truth as possible.

“Must have been some conversation.”

Shea shook her head. “I didn’t think so. Just normal, run-of-the-mill sort of talk.” Liar, liar, pants on fire.

“Well, you obviously impressed Trav. He said dinner was your choice. Go on over there and give Bill your order. He’ll put it in for you. Travis said you were to sit at the bar and have a glass of wine while you waited.”

“Controlling much,” Shea murmured.

Emma laughed loudly. “You don’t know the half of it.” She studied Shea with appraising eyes. “But I think you may be good for him. I don’t see you as a pushover.”

“Gee, thanks.”

Emma looped her arm through Shea’s and led her to the bar. “All I mean is, you need to keep that backbone of yours stiff. Don’t let him run roughshod over you, talk you into things you don’t want to do.”

Shea paused, causing Emma to stop walking. “What sort of things?”

Emma shrugged. “I don’t know specifically. I mean, despite the fact I consider Travis one of my best friends, there are parts of him he keeps hidden from me. He has lots of secrets, but I’ve heard gossip over the years. Ordinarily I dismiss it, but the stories all seem to travel along the same vein.”

“What kind of stories?”

Emma hesitated. “He’s a wonderful man. All I’ve ever wanted is for him to find someone who’ll make him happy. Unfortunately he seems determined to live the rest of his life sequestered in that damn office, playing Big Brother. He watches everyone else have lives while denying the same for himself.”

Shea had discovered all that last weekend. Regardless, she knew Emma was trying to distract her from the real truth. “What stories, Em?”

Emma grinned. “See what I mean? You’re too damn smart. I was trying to let that subject drop before I stuck my foot in my mouth any deeper. All I’m going to say is he seems fond of some rather unique sexual practices.”

Shea gasped.

“No,” Emma interjected quickly. “I don’t mean anything bad or painful. Just unusual.”

“Unusual how?” Shea recalled Travis’ demand that she not touch him. She’d wondered constantly about that odd request, and his panicked reaction when she didn’t comply. Something was terribly broken inside Travis. She’d sensed it almost from the start. The caregiver in her wanted to fix it.

Before Emma could respond, her cell phone rang. She glanced at the number and rolled her eyes. “Christ.”

She clicked the answer button. “Yes, Travis?”

Shea looked over her shoulder at the security camera. Big Brother indeed.

Emma proceeded to answer Travis in a string of simple, annoyed answers. “I’m not. Fine. Whatever.”

She hung up and gave Shea a guilty grin. “He told me to stop trying to scare you away.”

“Can he hear what we’re saying?”

Emma shook her head and pointed to the camera. “No, but unfortunately he’s very good at reading body language. If this place weren’t packed to the rafters, I’d flip him off. Let him read into that what he would.”

Shea laughed and continued to the bar. “Maybe we should let this conversation lie. I’ll consider myself warned.”

White Knight is available at Ellora’s Cave, Amazon, Barnes and Noble, Sony and  All Romance Ebooks.

Want more snippets?

Rhian Cahill

Jody Wallace

Leah Braemel

Shiloh Walker

McKenna Jeffries

Taige Crenshaw

Shelli Stevens

HelenKay Dimon

Lauren Dane

TJ Michaels