Mari Carr's Blog, page 76

Five for Friday

I’ve been trying to think of something new and fun to do on my blog and I’ve got it! This week I’m kicking off something I’m calling Five for Friday. Each Friday I will post the first five pages of one of my books. My hope is if you haven’t read it, it might make you want to pick the story up.

I will warn you…I’m being true to the five pages. If page 5 ends in the middle of a sentence…well…it ends. LOL. I’m going to fire it up with the first five pages of Erotic Research, my very first book.

Chapter One

“Me and my big mouth,” Julia muttered as she dragged in the third load of wood to stack beside the fireplace. The snow hadn’t stopped falling since she’d arrived and, while the cabin was certainly toasty, she didn’t relish the thought of being buried alive by snowdrifts for the entire winter. Sure, she was used to being alone, but at least at home in New York City, she had the option of personal contact if she desired it. When the walls of her tiny apartment started to close in on her, she could always hit the market or Starbucks to see other human beings.

Coming to Ross Phillips’s rustic escape, this extraordinarily luxurious cabin nestled high in the mountains of West Virginia, to start a new novel—especially at the beginning of January—had not been one of her more brilliant plans. Actually, it was Ross’s fault—this reckless venture to the wilderness. He’d goaded her into it like he did most things.

“You’re in a rut,” Ross had told her. “What you need is a change. A major change.”

Unwilling to confess to her totally hot, though thoroughly arrogant, editor that he was right, she let him convince her to escape the city in the dead of winter with relatively little fuss. The fact was she had been battling boredom with her chosen path in life, although truth be told, when he made the suggestion for change, she thought he’d merely meant she should take a vacation.

Historical romance novelist by trade, she’d spent the last ten years of her life buried in her small apartment with her beloved cat, Duke, writing about damsels in distress, hunky lords and knights, and glorious adventures. In other words, she’d been living inside her head, creating worlds and men who could never exist in this lifetime.

Two months ago, Duke had gone on to that kitty castle in the sky and Julia’s world had fallen apart. Depression set in as she realized her best, and now only, friend was her editor—simply because a cat had died.

She hadn’t had a date in nearly three years—which was the last time Ross attempted to set her up. Ten minutes into the evening, Julia knew the blind date would end like all the others. The man would never meet the standards she’d set in her mind for the ideal man. Feigning a migraine, she escaped the disastrous dinner before dessert only to be raked over the coals by Ross the next morning for not giving the man a fair chance.

Even now, she could recall his frustration and anger toward her. She could hear his voice like it was yesterday.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” he had yelled into the phone. “Alex Saunders is a great guy. According to him, you didn’t give him the time of day.”

“I’m sure he is a perfectly nice man,” Julia had answered, feeling guilty for not putting forth more effort. She knew Ross was worried about her spending so much time alone; however she couldn’t help but be surprised he thought she would be attracted to Alex. “He’s just not my type.”

“Oh hell, not that again. Jules, we’ve talked about this. It’s 2005, not 1815,” Ross said, exasperation thick in his voice.

“I know what year it is, Ross.”

“Do you?” Ross asked. “Do you really?”

“We’ve had this conversation before.”

“That’s right, we have. And could it be because you insist on turning yourself into an old maid? Christ, Jules, you’re nearly thirty years old. It’s time to get out there. Live a little.”

“I am perfectly happy with my life the way it is and I am not nearly thirty. I’m only twenty-seven. I like my freedom and I don’t need a man. Why can’t you trust me when I say that?”

“Because it’s not normal, Jules. Living in self-imposed seclusion is not normal. When’s the last time you got laid?” Ross asked.

“I don’t think that’s any of your business. You’re my editor, Ross, not my pimp!”

“Jesus, Jules,” Ross began.

“And my name is Julia. You know I hate that nickname.”

“Jules,” Ross said calmly, ignoring her request as usual, “honey, you can’t stay locked up in that apartment writing romance novels twenty-four seven. It’s not healthy.”

“I would think you’d be delighted I’m working so hard. My last four books topped the best-seller list and I’ve won the True Heart award twice.”

“Don’t insult me, kiddo. I would hope after all the years we’ve known each other, you would know I consider you a friend, not a client. And as your friend, I’d prefer it if you wrote less and lived more.”

Julia’s heart softened as she recalled his words to her that day. Ross was a good friend to her. For the past decade, he’d been her main connection to the outside world, which is why she had foolishly agreed to his idea of a change. Rather than suggesting a relaxing cruise, however, his idea of a major change was actually a new genre.

Erotic romance. According to Ross, the market for these hot books was booming. He’d given her a box full of titles, encouraging her to read them and see what she thought.

For the past month, she’d been immersed in capture, bondage, BDSM and ménage-a-trois stories. She learned about domination, submission and the toys—my God, she didn’t know such things existed. Butt plugs, whips, paddles, vibrators, nipple clamps. She didn’t have a clue about any of these things and now Ross wanted her to write about them. While she had to admit she was intrigued, she also knew no amount of imagination was going to get her out of this mess. Ross had insisted she write erotica and, while still in a sensual haze from her readings and depressed over Duke’s death, she’d foolishly agreed to try.

Granted, she was technically not a virgin, but she couldn’t help but wonder if there was a statute of limitations on virginity. How long could you consider yourself experienced without actually having sex? She’d had sex with two, almost three men in her life—her high school beau, her college sweetheart and a nearly disastrous one-night stand. While her high school and college boyfriends had both been very sweet men, the bed play had certainly been nothing to write home about—mainly innocent exploration and vanilla sex.

Her lack of experience seemed to be in direct contrast to Ross’s wealth of practice and skill. For all the dates she seemed to lack, Ross Phillips more than made up the difference for both of them. Like Baskin-Robbins, he had a flavor of the month and it was always unique, different and exotic. A steady parade of gorgeous women seemed to make their way through his bedroom—so many in fact, Julia teasingly nicknamed him “Hef”, likening him to Hugh Hefner and his Playboy Bunnies.

The sad truth was she hadn’t had sex in nearly a decade, except for that near miss almost five years ago which had been an unmitigated disaster and the main reason she’d sworn off men and sex forever. She still couldn’t think of that night without blushing regret. She’d gone to a Christmas party at the home of one of her publishers and gotten a little inebriated. Actually, she’d gotten a lot inebriated. She hated social events and was terrible at small talk. She was supposed to hang out with Ross, but…

Ross had shown up with Bridget, his buxom blonde on-again, off-again girlfriend, or—as Julia liked to refer to her—slutfriend. The woman looked as if she’d come from the catwalks of Paris, in a shimmering silver dress cut so low in the back Julia was sure one quick turn and her entire rear end would be exposed. She was dripping with brilliant blue sapphires hanging from her ears, neck and both wrists, no doubt an early Christmas gift from Ross.

Julia rolled her eyes as the saying “a fool and his money are soon parted” drifted through her mind. The woman was a barracuda. Once she sank her teeth into a man, she didn’t let go until she’d devoured him and his bank account whole. Julia had tried numerous times to convince Ross that Bridget was shallow and money hungry, but he simply teased her about being jealous and continued his unsavory association with the bitch. All Julia could figure was Bridget must be one hell of a lay because two minutes of listening to her imperious demands would make any sane person run for the hills.

Unfortunately, tonight Julia had been counting on having Ross to hang out with, to ease the awkwardness of being there alone, but apparently Bridget, who supposedly wasn’t going to be able to attend because of a photo shoot in L.A., must have managed to swing a late flight back to the city.

Much to her relief, Scott Jenkins, one of the company’s new accountants, struck up a conversation and Julia, glad to not have Ross see her standing alone looking like a wallflower, was happy to participate. She and Scott spent the night ensconced on one of the couches in the living room laughing and talking and drinking. For once, she felt desirable, even pretty.

Not that she thought she was ugly. The fact was Julia considered herself to be extremely ordinary. Medium height, medium weight, brown hair, brown eyes—boring, boring, boring. She was nothing like the steady stream of supermodels constantly hanging off Ross’s arm. Not that she was jealous, like he thought. Well, not too jealous anyway.

From the way Ross kept looking across the room at her, it was obvious he was as surprised as she was that someone was taking an interest in her. Feeling slightly annoyed by that, and more than a little tipsy, Julia continued to giggle and flirt, pleased to be able to rub Scott’s interest in Ross’s smug face. Maybe now he would finally see her as a real woman, not the little-sister type, whom he constantly felt compelled to take care of and lecture to about her shyness, wasted youth and lack of social life.

Shaking herself for her somewhat-continuing obsession with her editor, Julia tried to focus on the man in front of her. While Scott was attractive, she didn’t feel overwhelmed by his appearance as she did with Ross. Ross Phillips was a natural athlete, who towered over her by at least six inches. It was his chiseled face that served as the model for nearly all of her romantic heroes, although she would never tell the cocky bastard that. He already had an overinflated opinion of himself and she considered it her calling in life to be the one woman to help him keep his feet firmly planted on the ground by not gushing over his every word and smoldering look. Not, of course, that he ever directed any smoldering looks toward her.

Glancing across the room, she studied him. He wore his jet black hair longer than he had when they’d first met, and she liked it. In fact, it was this new rugged look of his that had inspired her to write her first pirate novel, which was turning out to be her best-

Hee hee–sorry. That’s where the page ends. If you’d like to keep reading, Erotic Research is available at Samhain, Amazon,  Barnes and Noble, Sony, Fictionwise, and All Romance Ebooks.

Wild Kisses!

Wild Kisses – the print anthology of Any Given Sunday and Wild Irish Christmas is available now!

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.

AND

Wild Irish, Book Eight

“To Conall Brannagh.”

Ewan took the bottle from his father. “Who?”

“Conall Brannagh,” Patrick repeated. “If your mother had chosen him over me, none of us would be here tonight.”

It’s Christmas Eve, and the Collins siblings have given their father a precious gift. All seven have gathered together to spend the night in his apartment above the family pub, the warm, loving home where Patrick and Sunday raised their large brood.

You’ve witnessed each child find their happy-ever-after. Now gather ’round the tree and share a bottle of Jameson with the Collins family while Patrick shares the story of how he won the heart of Sunday, his true love, his soul mate…and the mother of his seven Wild Irish.

Wild Kisses (print combo of Any Given Sunday and Wild Irish Christmas) is available at Amazon and Barnes and Noble.

Hot Jocks!

It’s time for HOT JOCKS IN JULY! I thought I’d share a snippet from my hot jock, Trey. He was the third in the Happy Hour menage and he found his happily ever after in Slam Dunk.

Slam Dunk excerpt:

“Hey guys,” Cheryl called out as she walked into Tully’s. “Look who I found in the parking lot.”

Trey glanced up and, for a moment, he felt as if he’d been sucker punched. Ellie Hunter followed Cheryl and Lucas to the table.

Then Trey’s grin grew and he stood. “Take a wrong turn, Coach Hunter? Harper’s Ridge is on the other side of town.”

Ellie smiled, but before she could speak, Grace answered. “I invited her. We ran into each other at school today.”

Trey frowned, looking at Ellie. “Why were you atPreston?”

“I had a new teacher meeting to attend. I was checking out my classroom when I ran into Grace.”

Jamie looked at Grace. “Why the hell would you go to school on the last day of summer?”

Grace blushed slightly. “I wanted to work on my bulletin board.”

Lucas laughed. “Nerd.”

Grace threw a pretzel at Lucas’s head while the others laughed. Ordinarily Trey would have been amused by their antics, but he was too busy trying to wrap his head around the idea that Ellie “Hottie” Hunter was now his colleague rather than his competition. She looked smokin’ hot in short shorts and a T-shirt that showcased her perfect curves. Trey felt his cock stir.

“Here,” Trey said, grabbing a chair from an empty table nearby and placing it next to his. He suddenly felt the need to have Ellie in his space, close to him. “Have a seat.”

Ellie acknowledged his friendly gesture with a quick nod of thanks and sexy smile as they sat down.

Lucas grabbed an empty glass and filled it, passing it over to Ellie. “So you left Harper’s Ridge, huh? Finally decide you wanted to teach at a good school with a winning athletics program?”

Ellie rolled her eyes. “You must be Lucas. Grace warned me about you.”

Lucas wiggled his eyebrows. “Oh yeah? You like bad boys?”

Trey narrowed his eyes at his friend, annoyed. While they were both known as being flirts—and players—Trey didn’t like the idea of Lucas hitting on Ellie.

“Bad boy?” Trey scoffed. “Jesus, Lucas. You’re as much a bad boy as Justin Bieber.”

They all laughed as Lucas playfully punched Trey on the arm.

Ellie took a sip of the beer. “I needed a change of scenery,” she replied in response to Lucas’s earlier question. “Prestonhad an opening in the science department, so I took it.”

“What about coaching?” Trey asked, surprised she would give up something she’d so obviously loved.

She shrugged. “There wasn’t an opening to coach basketball atPreston. I mean, that is unless you wanna quit and hand the reins over to someone who actually knows a bit about the sport.”

He grinned. Oh yeah, suddenly Trey wasn’t dreading the end of summer. This school year was looking to be his best yet. It wouldn’t be hard going to work if Ellie was there providing the eye candy. “Not likely. Besides, considering the fact I took my girls’ team to the state championship a couple of years ago, I’d say I know plenty about the game.”

Ellie wasn’t daunted. She leaned closer and Trey caught the light scent of her perfume. Damn, she smelled good. “Word on the street is you’re not going to see that much success this year. Four of your starters graduated in June, which leaves you with a young bench. Anybody can coach naturally talented players. You think you’re up for teaching a bunch of newbies?”

This was what Trey had missed at the basketball conference. Nobody kept both his feet firmly planted on the ground like Ellie Hunter. “Oh, I’m up for it, sweetheart. You don’t have to worry about that.” Actually, at the moment, he was up for quite a bit. He hoped Ellie didn’t look down or she’d see exactly how much he enjoyed sparring with her. His cock was rock hard and threatening to bust a few seams in his pants.

“Where the hell did that summer go?” Cheryl said, waving to the waitress to set them up with another pitcher. “I’m warning y’all now. I’m drinking and dancing my ass off tonight. I’m fucking depressed.”

Trey topped up Cheryl’s glass. “You say the same thing every year at this happy hour.”

Cheryl shrugged. “Why do you think I had Lucas pick me up? I came prepared. DD and all.”

“Speaking of dancing,” Trey said, when the sound of Usher filled the room, “I lined up a few classics in the jukebox for us.”

Jamie groaned. “Christ, man. You picked all black music, didn’t you? Bet you didn’t fire up one single country song.”

Trey stood up and gave Jamie a shit-eating grin. They constantly waged this friendly battle over music. “My dollar, my picks.”

He was surprised when Ellie rose quickly. “I love this song.” She grabbed Trey’s hand and led him to the bar’s tiny dance floor. Cheryl and Lucas were hot on their heels and Trey noticed Grace leading an only somewhat reluctant Jamie as well.

He started to move to the music, watching as Ellie lost herself to the song. Holy fuck. She could dance.

After years of Grace and Cheryl’s hilarious attempts at keeping up with him on the dance floor, he was blown away by Ellie’s natural grace and rhythm. She had some sexy-as-hell moves for a white girl. On top of that, she knew all the words to the song. When she mouthed along with Ludacris about wanting “a freak in the bed”, he resigned himself to the fact that he wasn’t going to make it through this night without jerking off to relieve his hard-on.

Ellie turned around and moved against him. For a second, he tried to hold her away, knowing there was no way she wouldn’t be able to feel his erection. Then, he figured what the hell. There was nothing he wanted more than to feel her tight ass rubbing against him. He reached for her waist and pressed her closer. If she was surprised by his actions—as well as his cock rubbing against her lower back—she didn’t show it. In fact, she moved slower, more sinuously.

Trey gritted his teeth and tried to ignore how good her body felt against his. Her long brown hair was pulled back in her usual ponytail and he wondered what her hair would look like down, loose around her shoulders. Or better yet, he could wrap that ponytail around his hand and use it to direct her mouth to his cock as she sucked him off. A myriad of red-hot images passed by his eyes as he danced with her. No other woman had ever inspired this much lust in him, but a few minutes with Ellie never failed to drive his thoughts straight to the bedroom.

He moved his hands higher on her waist, his hands slipping beneath her T-shirt as she continued to gyrate in time with the music.

He’d never danced with Ellie, never had more than short conversations with her at conferences and before games, but he’d always watched her. Always been aware that whenever she was around, the rest of his surroundings went a bit blurry, all his focus directed at her.

He was attracted to her. He’d never denied that to himself, though he’d certainly worked hard to hide the fact from his friends. Grace and Cheryl would take a great deal of pleasure knowing he had a crush on Ellie Hunter and knowing them, they’d work overtime to try to hook them up. Grace was always trying to set him up, telling him he needed to settle down.

Ellie turned around to face him, but he didn’t release his grip on her waist. Instead he let his fingers slide over the smooth, soft skin of her tiny waist.

Suddenly it dawned on him exactly how small she was. Looking down, he noticed the top of her head only came to his shoulders. Her powerful personality had always made her seem taller to him.

She continued to dance and her new position gave him a bird’s eye view of her breasts. She wasn’t overly endowed, though she certainly had plenty to fill his palm. She sported an athletic build, trim and firm and fit. He considered all the ways she could use her physical strength in the bedroom and his cock twitched. Jesus. This wasn’t good.

Slam Dunk is available at Samhain, Amazon, Barnes and Noble, Sony, Kobo and All Romance Ebooks.

CONTEST – Simply tell me what your favorite sport is to be entered to win your choice of an ebook from my backlist.

Want more hot jocks? Check it out.

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The Theory of Attraction

Delphine Dryden and I are drinking buddies from way back! No…seriously, we are! Met the lovely Del at Romanticon a couple years ago. I was holding up the bar with a couple of friends when she and Christine D’Abo walk in. They pull up a couple of stools near us, we all start chatting and next thing you know, we’re up in my hotel room doing Dream Machine shots (for those of you who don’t know, that’s a lick of salt, shot of Patron tequila, chased with….wait for it…cotton candy!).

Del has a new book coming out today at Carina Press and she let me have a sneak peek. I loved it. Like “couldn’t put the freaking thing down even though my hubby was giving me dirty looks because we were on vacation” loved it. Del asked if I’d do a little pull-quote thingy for her (I was and still am so honored that she asked), so I thought I’d share that with you as well as the deets about the story. YOU MUST BUY THIS BOOK!

Big Bang Theory meets erotic romance. Only Delphine Dryden could pull off a beautiful, funny, sexy as sin story like this! Her characters leap off the page and make you root for the nerd. Hell, I wasn’t just rooting for the nerd…I was lusting for him. I want Ivan! Quirks, brain, flogger and all!

The Theory of Attraction

Order for Kindle or Nook

Camilla can set her watch by her hunky rocket-scientist neighbor who jogs past her window each day. She relishes each glimpse of his shirtless abs, and is dying to see more. But it’s hard to connect with a man who doesn’t seem to know she exists…

Ivan feels at home in the lab, not in social situations. When he finally approaches his attractive neighbor, it’s not for a date—he wants tutoring in how to behave at an important fundraiser. Ivan doesn’t expect the chemistry between them to be quite so explosive, and is surprised when Cami actually accepts his proposal to embark on a series of “lessons”.

Cami soon discovers Ivan’s schedule isn’t the only thing he likes to be strict about—he needs to be charge in the bedroom as well. She’s shocked at how much she comes to enjoy her submissive side, but wonders if a real relationship is in the equation…

THE THEORY OF ATTRACTION (ebook) comes out today from Carina Press. Later in 2012 it will also be available as an audio book from Audible.com.

Excerpt

He hissed through clenched teeth, pulling away for a second and then pressing forward with a groan to pin me to the wall. His hips ground against me, and I shivered as his hands left the wall and circled my upper arms.

“I don’t play these games out in the real world, Cami.” His voice was rough, almost resentful. Torn, he sounded torn. I felt a surge of raw hope and need, even as he said everything he could to deter me. “I know how to fuck. I like to fuck. I just don’t do well with people, and I have very particular tastes.” He had worked his hands forward between me and the wall now, and he cupped my breasts and plucked sharply at my nipples through the infamous shirt. “I can’t be nice about it. I’m tempted by you, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t, but I’m not like the men you’re used to. I don’t do sweet. This isn’t what you’re looking for.”

“If you don’t know people,” I gasped, biting my lower lip as his fingers tugged and tweaked the already pebbled peaks, “you shouldn’t make assumptions about what they’re looking for. I want this. I want you.”

I curled my hands over his in encouragement, and he responded by pulling his hands away only long enough to slip them under the shirt and then back up to resume his previous torture.

“You don’t even know what this is.”

“Then tell me. What are you, into cross-dressing? A furry? What is the big deal?”

Ivan yanked his hands from under my shirt, grabbed my shoulders and spun me around to face him. His expression was grim, his eyes stern and ominous in the scarlet glow. He said he was tempted, but he seemed to be looking for something from me, and I felt frustrated beyond words that I didn’t know what it was. I wanted to give it to him. Short of putting on a fur suit, in that moment I would have agreed to about anything. Maybe that was what he needed to see.

“I like to be in control.”

“I think I got that part.”

“No.” He squeezed his eyes shut, gripping my shoulders at the same time as though he was trying to force the understanding into me. “Camilla, I like to be in control. And for my partner to give up her control to me.”

Slowly, very slowly, a picture was beginning to form in my mind. “You mean like tying people up and stuff?”

That earned a smile. “Sometimes. But there’s more to it than that.”

“Like ordering people’s food for them? And quizzing them on the movie?” And why did that suddenly seem like the sexiest of all possible things?

“You didn’t pay attention to the movie at all, did you?”

I shook my head, unable to speak in the face of the intensity in his eyes as he leaned closer.

“Bad girl.”

Oh holy fuck.

Saturday Snippet

Reunited and it feels so good. Nothing makes for good reading like a red hot make up scenes. Today’s snippet is from Slam Dunk.

Snippet:

She picked up a napkin from the table, twisting it in her hands. “But I have done something like that before and I nearly destroyed my career in the process. I made an ass of myself and I’m so afraid…”

Her words drifted away, but she didn’t need to continue. Trey knew what she was scared of. Knew there was a day of reckoning coming for Ellie. For both of them. Whether she was ready to admit her feelings or not, Trey had long ago accepted that he was head over heels in love with her and—colleagues or not—he intended to pursue a relationship, love, rings, kids. The whole shebang.

But not tonight. Tonight, she needed a break from the emotions, time to sort out her hurt feelings over Joel and her confused feelings for him.

He stood and reached down for her hand. “Dance with me.”

Ellie let him lead her to the floor, wrapping her arms around his neck and stepping closer as the Little River Band song “Lady” played. Dancing was something he suspected they’d always share. Both of them content to lose themselves in the music, the soothing rhythm.

Ellie sighed. “My mom used to listen to this song all the time.”

Trey laughed. “That’s because it’s the whitest song on earth.”

Ellie giggled and put her head against his chest. “Ah, that must be why I like it so much.”

Trey swayed slowly, savoring the feeling of her. His life never felt quite as right as the moments when she was with him, in his arms. She still hadn’t said she loved him, but Trey was hopeful. They faced a long road and there was a hell of a lot more to say, but whether Ellie knew it or not, she’d taken a step toward him tonight. Not away.

She’d come to Tully’s to talk to him rather than her usual cut-and-run. It gave Trey hope and for the moment, he was happy. They’d sort out the rest later.

Slam Dunk is available at Samhain, Amazon, Barnes and Noble, Sony, Kobo and All Romance Ebooks.

Want more snippets?

Megan Hart:Read in bed!

Leah Braemel

Jody Wallace

Eliza Gayle

Mandy M Roth

Lissa Matthews

McKenna Jeffries

Myla Jackson

Taige Crenshaw

Shiloh Walker

Delilah Devlin

HelenKay Dimon

Lauren Dane

Shelli Stevens

Cowboy Christmas Round Up

Guilty Pleasures will be featuring some of today’s HAWTEST Cowboy/Western Romance authors and they asked me to participate! Woot! My blog post goes live today. They also have daily prizes and a Grand Prize!

 

Twister

Anyone up for a party game? Lexxie Couper’s Twister is out today. It’s the third book in the Party Games series she’s writing with Rhian Cahill and it is made of AWESOME! The idea behind the series is inspired–centers around people who meet in a social setting while playing party games with a wickedly sensual twist. The first book, Suck and Blow, as well as the second, Truth or Dare, are available now. Today…it’s time for a little Twister!

Twister

Getting the upper hand—and foot—was never this naughty.

Party Games, Book 3

As the man who snared the reins of his father’s global media empire and propelled it to new heights, Lachlan McDermott is accustomed to people jumping to obey his every command. He knows he is painted as handsome, arrogant and influential with the power of information at his control. But no one knows he’s got a weakness. Only one. And now, that weakness is in his house. Braless.

Über successful fashion photographer Cameron Winters used to be the super-model known only as Kole. But Kole dropped out of sight a long time ago. Only one thing can bring Cameron out of her self-imposed exile from public life: a man who doesn’t know she exists.

The trouble is, when Cameron comes face to face with Lachlan at an exclusive Sydney party, he immediately brings out the “Kole” in her. And Kole doesn’t bow down to anyone. Not even the one man who monopolizes her fantasies.

When they’re pitted against each other on the Twister mat, surrender isn’t part of the deal, and getting tangled up is only the beginning. Especially when their secrets keep getting in the way.

Product Warnings

Read in private. Contains a sexy, brooding, smoldering, dominating Australian Alpha male hero who will make you want to take your clothes off and beg to play.

EXCERPT:

“Your turn, McDermott,” Mac said beside him.

“Gotta pay to play, Mr. McDermott,” the referee said on his right. The man stepped forward from the crowd and Lachlan bit back a snort, recognizing the weather reporter from one of McDermott Media Corp’s breakfast television programs.

“Pay?”

Mr. Weather’s Fine and Sunny cleared his throat. “Piece of clothing, please.” He held out a hand, palm up, and Lachlan had to admire the man’s courage. It wasn’t everyday one found themselves asking for an item of clothing from the very person ultimately in charge of one’s career. The person who could destroy said career with just a word.

But you won’t. Because you aren’t a prick with a God complex. You aren’t your father, despite the lust you’re feeling for a model. You do know how to have fun, you just don’t. And this type of silly, harmless fun is exactly what you need to get your mind off her.

At the thought of the damned supermodel somewhere in his home, Lachlan toed off his boots and shot his best friend a quick look. “I’m going to make you regret this, Harris.”

Mac laughed. “Can’t be anything worse than the last meal you cooked.”

With a chuckled growl, Lachlan hooked his fingers under the waistline of his polo shirt and, in one single move, yanked it up over his head. The cool air flowed over his bare chest, pinching his nipples into hard points. He heard a few appreciative oohs, a wolf whistle and then Mac snatched the shirt from his hands before Lachlan could finish withdrawing his arms from the sleeves.

His best friend laughed. “That’s my ruthless Media Mogul Balloon Boy.”

The gathering horde let out another cheer, louder this time.

The Twister referee cleared his throat again and turned back to the masses. “So, who’s game to take on the Lachlan McDermott in a game of Twister. One piece of clothing is all it—”

“I’m game.”

The throaty call came from behind Lachlan a second before a long, slender arm extended over his shoulder, equally long, slender fingers loosely holding something black and skimpy and bra-like. Except no bra Lachlan had ever seen was made with so little fabric. Or made his balls rise so quickly and his dick harden so painfully.

Damn.

Kole stepped out from behind him. Her body heat caressed his bare chest as she slid past him, her unhindered breasts brushed his arm. Her stare held his for a fraction of a second before, with a curl of her lips, she crossed to Lachlan’s award-winning weatherman and handed over her bra. “I’ve paid,” she said with a seductive smile, and he couldn’t help but notice her nipples pressed against the flimsy silver strip of fabric she wore as a shirt. Her light blue eyes met his across the Twister mat as she slipped first one stiletto-heeled sandal and then the other from her feet. “Now, Mr. McDermott, let’s play, shall we?”

And the winner is…

I want to thank everyone for participating in the Misplaced Scavenger Hunt. We had SIXTY-FIVE entries. I can assure you I’ve never had so many folks play along for a contest, so it was very exciting for me!

And now…without further ado…the winner of the Kindle is Heather Egtvedt. I will be in touch about your prize.

I hope everyone had a restful weekend and thanks again!

4th of July Blog Hop!

Just in time to celebrate freedom of speech and the right to read it, comes the Celebrating Independence Blog Hop!

There will be fireworks, BBQ, and if you’re lucky something extra special!

So here’s how the hop goes…each of the participating authors listed here is running a contest on their blog! Make sure you stop by all the stops on the hop. You won’t be disappointed!

Contest starts Sunday, July 1, 2012 and ends Wednesday, July 4, 2012 at midnight.

My contest is quite simple! Just tell me what your favorite thing about the 4th of July is. One lucky commenter will win their choice of an ebook from my backlist.

Saturday Snippet

It’s Say Anything weekend again and today’s snippet comes from my latest release, Misplaced Princess.

Snippet:

Hunter ran his finger down the pretty blonde’s arm, enjoying the flirting and easy banter. He’d hit the bar after seeing his idiot brother off at his gate. They’d flown the station helicopter toSydney, leaving so early this morning it had still been dark. Hunter had a couple of hours to kill while he waited for the flight mechanic to refuel the chopper and clear him for take off.

“So you live on a cattle station?” the blonde asked. He’d forgotten her name the second she’d said it. One of these days he was going to have to learn to pay attention to details like that.

“Yep. Farpoint Creek. My family’s owned it forever. Established it back in the 1800s.”

The woman feigned interest, but Hunter could see the disdain in her eyes. She was clearly a city girl and the idea of living out whoop whoop in the Outback was less than appealing to her. Lucky for both of them, he wasn’t considering taking this game of slap and tickle out of the airport.

She leaned closer, accidentally brushing the side of his arm with her breast. They’d started their flirting at different tables. Then he’d joined her. After a few minutes of sexual innuendoes, he’d given up his seat across the table and moved over to share her side of the booth.

“You know, I’m a member of the Qantas Club.”

“Is that right?” he asked.

“I was actually thinking of heading over there and freshening up before my flight. They have showers in the lounge.”

“Showers, eh? Bit bloody fancy.”

She dragged her hand along his leg, starting at his knee and working her way up. He liked a woman who knew what she wanted and wasn’t afraid to grab it. His dick twitched when her hand crept closer.

“Wish I had someone to wash my back,” she purred.

He started to offer his sudsy services, but something on the PA caught his attention. “What did she say?”

“What did who say?”

The PA announcement was repeated. Dylan Sullivan, please meet your party at the customer service desk located at terminal one.

What the hell? Dylan wasn’t here. At least, he bloody well shouldn’t be.

Hunter reluctantly pushed the woman away while silently cursing his brother. “Sorry, love, but I gotta go do something.” Dylan would pay dearly for costing him a shower with this beauty in the high flyer’s club. He retrieved his hat from the table and put it back on his head.

“You’re leaving?”

Hunter nodded regretfully. “Yeah. Afraid it can’t be helped.” He threw enough cash on the table to cover both of their drinks and a generous tip for the waitress. “Sorry.”

He walked toward terminal one, trying to figure out why Dylan wasn’t jetting away fromSydney, getting closer to making one of the dumbest mistakes of his life. He’d loaded his brother on a plane headed forNew Yorkover an hour ago.

Hunter had spent most of their morning trek to Sydney trying to convince Dylan that taking off halfway around the world to hook up with some broad he’d met on one of those stupid online dating services made him look pretty desperate.

He’d also pointed out that precious little could come of this trip, besides getting a piece ofNew Yorktail. Dylan lived and worked on Farpoint Creek cattle station. InAustralia. Trying to hook up with some American chick wasn’t exactly practical.

Dylan, ever the romantic idiot, seemed to think Annie had the potential to be his soul mate. Jesus, his brother had actually used those words—soul mate—and was supposed to be headed toNew York to prove that asinine fact.

Had Dylan missed his plane? Hunter couldn’t figure out how. They’d made it to the departure gate in plenty of time. And if so, why would he page himself rather than ask the customer service rep to page Hunter? Maybe Dylan had given his own name as well and the lady had fucked it up.

He glanced at the crowd standing around the service desk as he walked toward the terminal. He and Dylan weren’t lacking in the height department. If his dickhead brother was around, he sure as hell wasn’t standing up; he’d tower over these people. Add the fact he and Dylan hardly ever took off their bloody hats and Hunter should be able to spot him a mile away.

He started to get in line at the desk to ask who’d paged Dylan when a woman walked up to him.

“You’re here!” she said.

Hunter tried to place the woman’s face. She looked vaguely familiar. “I am?” His mother claimed he’d been cursed with a sarcastic streak as wide as Farpoint since the day he was born. While his mum found it annoying, Hunter had never found a good reason to curb that personality trait.

The pretty woman smiled. “I was starting to worry.”

Before he could tell her she had the wrong bloke and should go ahead and hang on to her anxiety, she took a step closer and threw her arms around him.

The hard-on Hunter had managed to batten down as he’d walked away from his potential shower partner reemerged when her firm breasts brushed against his chest. Bloody hell. Who knew the airport was such a great place to pick up women? He might have to fly to Sydney International more often.

Never one to pass up an opportunity, he accepted the embrace, loosely wrapping his arms around her back. The lovely lady was just the right height for him and had some sexy curves. He liked a woman with meat on her bones.

She pulled away slightly and he started to release her, but she kept her arms wrapped around him and upped the ante, kissing him.

It started as a sweet, friendly kiss, but Hunter wasn’t having any of that shit. She smelled and tasted too good. He grasped her soft face and held her close. He turned his head and deepened the kiss, pressing her lips open so he could get an even better taste. He was thrilled when her tongue met his halfway. Jesus. This chick could kiss.

Misplaced Princess is available at Ellora’s Cave, Amazon and Barnes and Noble.

Want more snippets?

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McKenna Jeffries

Myla Jackson

Taige Crenshaw

Delilah Devlin

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Shiloh Walker

Shelli Stevens

Zoë Archer

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