Cerise DeLand's Blog, page 23

A #Regency lady must dress for breakfast, lunch, dinner in, dinner out, more. Cost of that is...?

Opera Dress, left. Promenade Dress, right.
From: 1811 Ackermann's Repository. Google books     Readers of Regencies love their fashions. In an age marked by the simplicity of line, the simplicity of the look of the cloth, plus the growth of types of cloth available to dressmakers in Great Britain, women regarded their fashion as the key to their success socially.
     Fashion has always signaled status. The decrees of kings (think Louis XIV) and queens (think of Elizabeth I) and various injunctions of parliaments (think sumptuary laws during war times) have limited supply of types of fabrics and inspired protection of home-grown markets.
     But in Britain during the Regency, despite the harassment of a few French frigates and the Barbary pirates, those in Britain enjoyed the variety of fabrics shipped to their shores. Ladies adorned themselves in muslins and silks, satins and laces of all types from many ports of call.
     Here, for your enjoyment, I list a few types of garments and their accompanying costs. My aim is to show you what it might have cost a family to dress their darling girl or cost a lady to dress herself.

( Note well: I take these prices from Cunnington, C. Willett, English Women's Clothing in the Ninetheenth Century. 1990, pp. 34-73. These pages describe women's clothing during 1800-1821. In other words, this is the period of the Napoleonic Wars ending in 1821, the crowning of the Prince Regent in summer of 1821 as George the Fourth, and therefore by strict accounts, the end of the Regency. Also note as Cunnington says, that the costs he found here were ones he could find in advertisements and therefore, they may be the norm, not the most expensive nor least.)

Morning:
Nightgown: cambric muslin, 1+ pounds per yard (2-3 yards necessary)
Morning dress: 15-21 pounds each (ready made)

Undergarments:
Corset: 18+ pounds each
Drawers: cotton, at 3+ pounds each
Pantaloons: worsted, from 14+ pounds each
Petticoat: muslin, 3 pounds
Silk stockings with cotton feet: 7+ pounds a pair

Day gowns, at home:
A gown, muslin, 20+ pounds ready made
shoes: satin or kid, 4+ pounds a pair

Dinner attire, at home:
A gown, merino crepe at 5 pounds per yard
               sarcenet at 7/6 per yard
             
Dinner attire, party, full dress:
Gown:  5-7 pounds per yard  x 3 yards      
Hat/headdress: 4-7+ pounds each
Gloves: long over the elbow, 1+ pound per pair
Shoes: satin, silk, embroidered, 4+ pounds a pair
Cape/redingote: velvet at 7 pounds per yard

And to dress well, other accoutrements are necessary. They would include reticules, fans, parasols, handkerchiefs, and that final bit of embellishment, jewelry.

Now, at minimum of one each of these, we see that our lady's wardrobe costs 123+ pound sterling.
Note my summary here does not address the needs of a young gel making her first Season. Nor does it talk about levels of dress for different types of affairs each of which requires a degree of refinement, all translating to higher costs.
In today's money, how much does that translate to?
If the pound sterling in 1811 is now equal to 70+, then 123 is now equal to:
GBP = 8,622
And that amount in current USD = $13,081.00
With this kind of outlay, one can readily see why conserving fabric was not only a very good practice in all households, but protecting dresses with scarfs and collars and removable cuffs was sound financially. Then too, cutting down dresses to fit not only young girls in the household but also servants was a very practical matter.
Evening dress, left.  Promenade Costume, right.
1812 Ackermann's Repository. Google Books Descriptions of above fashions, 1812 Ackermann's Repository.
Google books.

Cerise asks, With 10,000 a year, is Mr. Darcy really a rich #Regency man?

Darcy fans ask the burning question: How well would Lizzie Bennet really live after she married Mr. Darcy?
That leading statement that he had “ten thousand a year” sounds rich…but it’s enlightening to learn the facts.
To help you savor the possibilities of stepping into Lizzie’s shoes, I found a wonderful website that translates previous years’ British pounds into current British pounds. So for your titilation, here’s a sample of the real cost of living for Mr. Darcy and his bride. I’ve added to the cost of a hired carriage ride and the cost of paying his servants’ salaries. (Yes, all costs are those I took from original sources of the period, give or take a few years on the publication date of Jane’s PRIDE AND PREJUDICE which is 1813.)
A London carriage ride, hired hackney, 1-2 miles(ex: Charing Cross to Hyde Park Corner)                                    1-2 pounds
Ladies hat, chip straw                                                                 18 pounds
Lace trim, 6 shillings per yard
Gown: Fine India Muslin, white, 13 per yard*                        39-65 pounds(3-5 needed for full length dress)*Sewing extra(Alternate fabric: chintz 7-8 pounds per yard)
Dinner party, food and wine, for 16-20                                         20 poundsDinner for family of 4, 3-4 courses                                                  5 pounds

To educate (a daughter) at boarding school, includingTransportation to, from                                                                   43 per year
Recommended expenditure for running complete household: This from one current expert in the period...and the category that breaks the bank. Watch and see! 33% of all income should go to household expenses                              330020% to servants’ salaries, equipage (i.e. horse, carriage)                        2000TOTAL:                                                                                                  5300
So, let’s do the math!Darcy has income of 10,000 pounds a year.To run his country home, he spends 55% a year of 10,000 =  5300. pounds
He gives one dinner party a month x 12 =  240.1 ball for 100 = (equivalent of 5 dinners) = 200Total entertainment of others per year     =                                        440.
5 new dresses for his wife, Lizzie = 65 x 5= 3255 new hats for Lizzie,                              18 x 5=   90Total for Lizzie:                                                                                       415.
What remains for him to expense:·      Clothing for himself, rest of family·      Education for children·      Books, entertainment, etc.·      His club dues, social responsibilities·      Etc.And of course, the total to run his London townhouse is not listed here. That amount would be approximate to that of running his country estate. So add another 5300 poundsto his annual expenses as a gentleman.
And by that rule of thumb alone, he would already be in debt by several thousand pounds.
And what does 10,000 pounds in 1813 equal in British pounds today?638,000 poundsConverting that into American dollars at today’s inflation rate, we get$1,329,000.90
Darcy is a millionaire. But if he’s running two households, I hate to say this, he’s in financial trouble.My Regency gentlemen are not broke. And I hope you will read all of the novels in which they star...and lavishly spend their riches on new wives!Do anticipate my newest release, MASQUERADE WITH A MARQUESS, #3 in my REGENCY ROMP series! Soon, my dahlinks, soon!

Desiree Holt creates sizzling danger in new series, THE OMEGA TEAM! Starts today!

Welcome to The Omega Team, my newest action/adventure/romance series. To tempt you into their headquarters, Book #1 Raw Edge of Danger is FREE!!!! Yes, FREE !! Only available at Amazon. Hope you love it enough to take home all three stories.Book #1Raw Edge of Danger For Grey Holden the mission was simple: get the goods on the bastard selling guns by the truckload to terrorist. Guns that were used in a firefight that killed his best friend. Lucky hadn’t been too lucky that night. Setting up shop in Tampa, where Lucky’s house was, where the money Lucky left him is held, and where the traitor rides high as a politician, he sets a course to take the man down and brand him for the trash that he is. Athena Madero has seen the fat cat politician waltz once too often on sexual predator charges at the police department. It sickens her and forces her out on leave and on a mission to get proof that will destroy the man once and for all. When these two collide, it’s a tossup which sparks hotter: their resentment for the intrusion of the other or the sexual chemistry that threatens to burn them alive.
Book #2Mission ControlKrista (Kris) Gauthier and Mason Rowell are like oil and water from the moment they meet. He never expected the team from Mission Control, the security agency made up of former military, to send a woman to lead the team he hired to fix his problem: find out who is helping smugglers cross his land from the border. Their antagonism is only heightened by the sexual attraction that keeps blazing out of control. Neither of them is happy about the fact they keep falling into bed together and Mason, who values his unattached existence, can’t wait for the team to be finished and Kris to be gone. But when the bad guys are identified and caught and Kris is wounded in the process, the thought of losing her nearly destroys him, and makes him take another look at their relationship. 
Book #3Lethal DesignSomeone is putting a kink in Shannon McRae’s very orderly life. The video games she designs aren’t about electronic battles or gory crimes. Her projects include team building exercises for executives. It’s bad enough she’s plagues with possessions moved out of place, flat tires, strangers following her at night. But most importantly, someone is messing with her current project, corrupting the file so she has to rework it over and over. When activities escalate Athena Madero, decides it’s a case for the top security and protection agency The Omega Team, which she owns with her partner with Grey Holden. Owen Cormier has been isolated emotionally most of his adult life. Twelve years fighting wars haven’t made him warm and fuzzy. Then he discovers his new client is the one night stand he could never get out of his mind. When the case is over, will he just be able to walk away?

SEALs are hot for @cerisedeland's MILITARY MONTH! Yum!

AMAZON BUY LINK:
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If you were saved by a SEAL from an abductor in a sizzling desert, you'd be grateful. You'd want to thank him. You'd also be astonished he came to visit you in the hospital and that he asked after you. You might even fall in love...and  seek him out to tell him that.               * * * * *Getting in the party mood for a weekend away with his SEAL teammates is no easy deal for “Zeus” Calderon. He’s hung up on a woman he saved from terrorists months ago, but he should be able to forget a gutsy blonde reporter who showed resilience and humor under fire. Shouldn’t he?
Kim Stansfield got the instant hots for the hunky Navy SEAL who led her out of harm’s way—and she’s got proof Zeus feels the same about her. He’s stubborn, but she’s devised a plan to conquer him.
When she shows up in Key West and surprises him on the beach, Zeus learns that once in a lifetime a man meets a woman he can’t forget—and every day without her is no easy day.

Excerpt, CONQUERING ZEUSby Cerise DeLand, 2012-3. All rights reserved.   Pissed at himself for leaving Coyote and Ghost at the rockin’ Friday night beach bar scene hours earlier at Sunset Pier, he pushed through his temper and used it as fuel. Of all the women in all the joints in the world, the blonde bombshell who doesn’t walk in there tonight is the one I want.    He pounded through the waves, spotting someone lean and female strolling the beach with a sizable dog.   They were harmless. He had jumped in naked. No matter. Whoever it was would be long gone by the time he hauled his bare ass up the sands toward the house.    SEALS ON FIRE:       PRINT:  http://amzn.to/Uo5CSG        EBOOK:  http://amzn.to/1ndo6Sf   He angled for the shore, fighting memories of doing a door-to-door in an Egyptian shantytown to find her. His team had landed the night before, marched hours over abandoned desert to the tribesmen’s village, then fanned out to search for her and her two fellow hostages. Amid machine gun fire, he discovered her in a tin-roof lean-to, weary and weak, dehydrated, blindingly beautiful and bravely smiling at him in her filthy rags.    “Keep your head down,” he had whispered, pushing her to sit beneath the edge of the window in the hovel where the Bedouin tribesman had tied her to the post of an old iron bed frame.   With a classic profile, Nordic and tall, Kim Stansfield, reporter and hostage, stared at him, sunburned and dazed from hunger and thirst. Despite her dire condition, she smiled, pointing at his face and the green and brown desert camouflage paint that disguised his features. “Are you wearing make-up?”   “What? You don’t like a man to wear foundation?”   He fluttered his lashes at her, whipped an MRE drink from his vest and shoved it toward her. “Guzzle this.”   Grasping the pouch with shaking hands, she downed it while he sawed off her chains with his Spyderco blade. She coughed, choked, then hacked some of it back up.    “Cancel the guzzle. Sip it. Let me see how fit you are.” He ran his hands over her body, checking for sprains or injuries from beatings. God knew what these animals had done to a blonde Western woman who didn’t suit their ideals for dress or habits. After seven days of captivity, her body was still sleek, but limp from lack of nutrition. Outside, the rat-tat-tat of machine gun fire and bursts from his buddies’ Sig Sauers told him his team had run into her captors and it was his job to snatch her and run.   “I can’t go with you,” she rasped, wiping drops of the liquid from the corner of her mouth with the sleeve of her dirty linen abaya.   The hell you can’t. He shot her a look that spoke his thoughts. But hostages, especially women, needed assurances. He knew how to do that. Grandmothers, mother, sisters and cousins.  He had gentled them all.  The only man in a huge Tex-Mex family since his father had passed away when he was a baby, Jesus “Zeus” Calderon knew how to talk to women. “You’ll be fine. Do as I say.”   This female, he knew, tended not to follow anyone’s orders. Not her newspaper editor’s. Not the American government’s. He had studied her top-notch professional background and her tough-as-nails character, all as part of his team’s mission prep. She might look like a runway model, but she was an Amazon in spirit and truth. Though she hailed from preppy American and crusty British diplomatic stock, Kimberly Morran Stansfield was a dare devil, thirty-one-year old investigative journalist who spoke fluent Arabic and had used her excellent skills to file stories from Bengazi and    Cairo during the Arab Spring. For more than three years in the Middle East, she had strolled through gunfire, air strikes and riots. Seven days ago, while working an angle on famine in Egypt after the overthrow of Mubarak, she had been abducted and held for ransom by a renegade tribe of Bedouin.    “You don’t understand,” she objected, clutching his shirt in one fist. “They expected you. Planned for you.” She coughed again and he fretted about how deeply the spasms wracked her. “They’ll kill my cameramen Johnson and Hassan if you take me. Said they’d torture them first.”   “No, they won’t.”   “But—"   “We’re getting your two guys. No worries. Then we’re putting down your captors.”   “How many are you?” she asked, the reverence in her voice a prayer.   “Enough.” He smiled at her then and it was as if the sun multiplied into a thousand more when she grinned back at him. “Drink all of that. Fast as you can. It’s got your meds in there.”    She had a chronic condition of high red platelets. That was the reason the SEALs had come for her and her two colleagues as quickly as they had. Delay by even two more days and she would have died. Besides, this particular group of Bedouins had shown their hand at violence last year when they had kidnapped a French female television commentator. That woman they had brutally tortured and killed. Without a cause, save their own enrichment, this nomadic group tried to ransom those whom they abducted. And they always abducted women.    “They’re cowards,” he told her as he checked her bare feet, concluding he would simply carry her with him. “And they’re dead meat.”   Laughing hoarsely, she put a hand to her temple and swayed in delight. “Woosy. Think I’ve had too much to drink. Can you do that? Take them all?”   “My only job is you.”   She had laughed then, giddy with the strength of the MRE. Drawing his face down to hers, she planted a big fat kiss on his cheek. “Color me grateful, SEAL of my heart. Your wish is my command.”* * * * *     COME VISIT my website for more delicious tales: http://cerisedeland.com

Desiree Holts' WOLF MOON howls! Out today!

I have a longtime love affair with the wolf. Yes, he’s a predator. Yes, he kills. But he is such a majestic, magnificent animal that I am drawn to him again and again. Today launches a new wolf shifter series for me­.
Hot Moon Rising
A new wolf pack gathers…Survivors of the devastation wrought by developers and a more savage pack, the Moonlight Wolf Pack struggles to find a new home for itself in the heat of Central Florida. Here you will meet Jesse and Charlie, the sheriff’s deputies who are their liaison to the human world; Alexa and Liana, the women they married; Derek Sawyer and Rand Molina, leader and lieutenant of the Moonlight Pack; and all those who make up their wolf family as well as those who will join them in the future.
It starts with Wolf Moon…Shapeshifter Alexa Morgan fled her home in the north when her relationship with a human ended in disaster and the clan alpha shunned her. Now living in Florida, against all her better judgment she finds herself in a hot relationship with Jesse Farrell, the cop next door.  Despite her knowledge that the relationship is doomed, she cannot stay away from him. When Jesse, a gang task force member, is hurt one night on the job, Alexa begins to spend her nights tracking him, keeping him in her line of sight, determined to protect him. But she’s terrified of his reaction when he discovers her true nature. Will he accept her or bolt as her other lover did, leaving her destroyed once again.And continues with Venus Moon and Blood Moon
Catch the special flash sale! For three days only, beginning today, Wolf Moon will be on sale for 99 cents.
Excerpt:The sound of the doorbell startled her. On tiptoe she peered through the peephole. She was stunned to see Jesse on her porch, dripping wet and shifting from one foot to the other.She yanked the door open. “What’s wrong? It’s pouring rain. Why aren’t you inside?”“Can I come in, please?”“Oh, sure. Come on.” Yes, bring your fantastic body into my house.“Sorry to bother you. I left my key on the counter this morning.” He raked his wet hair back from his forehead. “Stupid, stupid, stupid.”Jesse always carried his car keys separately.“In case I’m ever attacked,” he explained, “I don’t want anyone having a key to my house. I can keep an extra one of yours too, if you want.”Another link to him she should have avoided.“I’ll get it,” she told him now, “but come into the kitchen. You look like a drowned rat and you must be freezing. At least get that wet shirt off and let me make you some coffee.”“I’ll drip all over your place,” he protested.“Tile floors are easy to mop.” She took his hand. “Come on. I’d feel terrible if you got pneumonia and I could have prevented it.”In the kitchen, she flipped the switch on the coffeemaker while he took off his shirt. Then she handed him a large towel from the stack in the laundry room.“You look exhausted. Bad night?” Her heart pinched at the weary sight of him.Jesse scrubbed a hand over his face. “Every night’s bad with the gangs. We’ve got a couple of new ones out there ramping up their so-called initiation requirements. That makes it pretty tense on the streets.”He was a member of the sheriff’s gang task force, a thankless and dangerous job. On the night streets, he was a shadowy figure in jeans and t-shirt looking to stop trouble before it started. Even in a county as small as Palmetto, gangs were a big problem, many of them migrating south from Tampa.She’d taken to waiting up for him, reassuring herself that once again he was home safely. If only she could find a way to protect him. Well, there was one if she transformed. But she had no idea how he’d feel about a giant redwolf following him around the county.She ran a critical eye over him, noting his soaked jeans and pulled out another towel. “You’d better take off the rest of those clothes and let me put everything in the dryer. Coffee should be ready in a minute.”“I’m all right, Alexa. Honest. I just need to get some sleep.”How about in my bed?
Here is where you can get Wolf Moon:AMAZON: http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_noss?url=search-alias%3Ddigital-text&field-keywords=Wolf+Moon+desiree+holt&rh=n%3A133140011%2Ck%3AWolf+Moon+desiree+holt
ARe: https://www.allromanceebooks.com/prod...
KOBO: https://store.kobobooks.com/en-us/ebook/wolf-moon-hot-moon-rising-book-1
Meet the author:Known the world over as the oldest living author of erotic romance, and dubbed by USA Today as the Nora Roberts of erotic romance, Desiree Holt has produced more than two hundred titles in nearly every subgenre of romance fiction. She is a winner of the EPIC E-Book Award, an Authors after Dark Author of the Year and of the Holt Medallion. She has been featured on CBS Sunday Morning and in The Village Voice, The Daily Beast, USA Today, The Wall Street Journal, The London Daily Mail and numerous other national and international publications. She enjoys football and reading and her three cats, who are her constant writing companions.
“Get out the ice water and fan…Desiree Holt delivers smoking hot alpha heroes and red hot romances.” Lea Franczak, USA Today Happy Ever After blog
Learn more about her and read her novels here:www.desireeholt.com www.desiremeonly.comwww.facebook.com/desireeholtauthorwww.facebook.com/desireeholtTwitter @desireeholtPinterest: desiree02holtGoogle: www.desiree02holt
LinkedIn: www.LinkedIn.com/desiree01holt

Normandie Alleman gives us a hunky WEBMASTER!

An online connection. Masked by anonymity. No cameras. No pictures. Curiosity ignited to intrigue.
I thought I knew what I was getting into, but had no idea how far we would go...
My intention was to test the waters, dip my toe in the wading pool. Instead I surrendered to the world of seduction and submission as he submerged me--body, mind, and soul--into an ocean of eroticism. 
Emails, texts, and hidden identities, were one thing. But now, coming face-to-face with the mystery man, the star of my fantasies, both terrifies and completely thrills me.  If all goes according to plan, he will intensify the exquisite bond we share by transporting me to that glorious intersection between agony and ecstasy. If not, everything we've built will come crashing down around us, destroying my dreams in the process.
Either way, there is no going back. Because I want more. Much more.He always says, "For every ounce of pleasure, a price must be paid."
And I am going to pay...
Warning: If you’re not a fan of dirty talk or dominant alpha males, “Her Web Master” may not be for you, but if you're looking for a filthy online boyfriend who will make your toes curl, meet Sophie’s mysterious Dom.

Excerpt – (Abridged Prologue) Rated R:
I stared at the ice cubes in my glass, all that was left of my first drink. I was only allowed two, so I relished the sensation as bourbon sank deliciously into my bloodstream, numbing me ever so slightly. I tried to wait patiently for the next cocktail to arrive, but patience had never been my strong suit. An only child, spoiled rotten by my parents who’d all but given up on having children when I came along, I wasn’t accustomed to waiting. But today of all days, I needed that next drink to calm my frayed nerves.      The restaurant at the Omni Hotel wasn’t crowded, about what one expected on a Thursday late afternoon. The elegant décor looked to be the result of a recent remodel, and I wondered who had done it. My mother would want to know the name of the designer. She served as the director of Fort Worth’s Junior Cotillion, as well as on a number of museum boards, and she’d taught me to stay abreast of all things related to the arts, but right now considering the hotel’s new look only helped distract me from an imminent meeting with the most important man in my life.       I was excited yet anxious because this would be my first meeting with my lover.       Our first meeting face-to-face.      He’d left strict instructions for me to sit at the table he reserved for us. He requested I sit with my back to the entrance. This tricky move on his part allowed no way for me to see him as he entered. If his intention was to control and torture me, it was working. A loose strand of hair tickled my cheek, so I tucked it behind my ear. My hair wasn’t choosing this inopportune moment to misbehave. It always misbehaved.      I watched for the waiter, again wanting that drink, but as much as I hated being outside my comfort zone, I loved the naughty, decadent feeling I got from doing something simply because my Master told me to. When I submitted to his demands, I stepped outside my safe little world, the one where my ex-husband ignored me for years, where all my friends had children, where I felt inconsequential. With him I wasn’t invisible. He relied on me.       Sure it was for things of a sexual nature, but to me, that was something, and I felt fulfilled for the first time in ages.      A few months ago, when I’d been supremely pissed at my cheating husband, I went online. I admit it, I’d been looking for trouble, which was mind-numbingly easy to find. I hadn’t intended to find a darker side of myself with needs that could never have been met by my philandering husband.  I’d never meant to find someone. I’d merely been looking, searching—for what, I wasn’t sure.       What I did find was a whole new world of dominance and submission, self-inflicted pain as well as pleasure, and sexual satisfaction with a stranger. A man who reached out and touched me in corners of my soul I hadn’t known existed. We spoke every day, I performed sex acts upon myself at his command, and sent him reports on the intimate and sometimes humiliating tasks he gave me. I was his submissive, and he was my Master, and every aspect of our relationship took place over the internet. I addressed him as “Sir”, but in our chats he went by the moniker, “MC.” We communicated only via Skype, email, chats and the occasional phone call. That is, until today.I always insisted we not use a webcam, even though he implored me to do webcam “sessions.” My privacy was of the utmost importance to me, so I always refused. I’m a kindergarten teacher at one of Fort Worth’s finest preparatory schools! I couldn’t take the risk of being videotaped during our play sessions. So the only notion I have of what my Master looks like is a product of my imagination. But today he flew to Houston to meet me in person. To have a real “play date.” In the flesh. A chill ran across my flesh, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. The waiter set my second bourbon in front of me. Always cognizant of my manners, I thanked him with a smile. I had been born into one of the wealthiest families in Texas and I’ve been given every advantage. I attended the right boarding schools, wore the right clothes, and behaved as any proper debutante should. And what had that gotten me? An unfulfilling marriage to an unfaithful jackass and a lifetime of trying to meet other people’s expectations rather than my own. I sipped my drink then smiled. But not today. Today I was doing what I wanted for a change.I would finally meet the man who dominated me for the past four months. My stomach roiled with anticipation. What would he look like? Would it matter? Of course whatever he looked like, he wouldn’t be the “Master” I’d daydreamed about. Things never worked that way. It would be like conjuring an image for the hero in a book, and when a movie is made, the actor never matches the character in your head. Always a disappointment.I’d tried to prepare myself for that from the beginning. I never pictured MC to be a handsome movie star. Instead, I envisioned him as rather average, with salt-and-pepper hair and kind features. For some reason I pictured him wearing glasses, possibly he had a beard. In any case, it wasn’t his physical appearance that was captivating. MC awakened a primal response in me. He exposed my mind to a world in which I could be open about my sexual desires. A world where the wanton girl inside me was encouraged to come out and play, rather than squelched and pushed into a back closet where she had always lived. He controlled my sexuality, sensing my deepest, darkest needs. And it didn’t hurt that he made me feel cared for and cherished at a time when I desperately needed that. I wanted to please him.Draining my second drink, I considered a third. I sighed deeply at the thought of the swats that MC would rain down on me for breaking his two-drink maximum. It made me wriggle in my chair, and the excitement between my legs spread down into my toes. My phone showed it was 5:12, and my tummy tightened. Any minute now… He told me he would be here at 5:15. The wait had been both excruciating and delicious at the same time—a perfect reflection of our relationship, a testimony to both pain and pleasure.“Close your eyes, my pet.” The familiar voice came from behind my chair. It was a sound I’d come to crave and hearing it sent shivers of anticipation dancing down my spine. Suddenly, I wanted to freeze that moment in time, to stop things while things were still beautiful between us, before reality could mar the fantasy.A hand circled my nape. His touch was like an electric current, setting my skin aflame. I leaned back against his fingers, shamelessly aching for more, though I knew I should maintain my composure because we were in a public place. But it was all I could do not to moan out loud. He wrapped my long hair over his wrist and gripped it firmly. “I see you were looking at your phone. Did you think I’d be late?”“N-n-n-no.”“Good. I’m going to sit beside you, to your left, but you will keep your eyes closed until I tell you to open them. Do you understand me?”“Yes.”“What did you say?” He pulled my hair tight, and I immediately wondered if anyone in the restaurant noticed.“Yes, Sir.” My heart thumped hard in my chest. “That’s better.”He let go of my hair, and I yearned for him to touch me again. I kept my eyes closed, though I knew I must look an odd spectacle. “Was that your second drink?”I nodded.“I expect you to answer me properly.”I squirmed in my seat. “Yes, Sir.”“Would you like another one?”“Yes, but you said I could only have two.”“Do you plan to be a good girl today?”“Yes, Sir.” “Since you followed my directions so well and this is something of a special occasion, you may have another one. What would you like?”“I’ll have a bourbon and water, please, Sir.”“That’s a mighty strong drink for a young lady.”I wasn’t that young, but I appreciated the chivalrous thought. “My grandmother taught me that if you drink bourbon and water it won’t sneak up on you the way sweeter drinks will. That way a lady can always take care of herself.”“Smart woman, your grandmother.”I listened as he ordered more drinks, my eyes closed the whole time, feeling ridiculous. Then I gave up and lowered my head, pretending to look at the ground. I’d spent my entire life being worried about what people thought of me. It was exhausting, trying to be perfect all the time.Part of me was dying to cheat, to open my eyes to see what this dynamic man actually looked like, while the other part was enjoying the game and wished it could go on forever. Because once I saw his face, nothing between us would ever be the same. The fantasy would disappear, replaced by a yet-to-be-known reality, with only a few of the fragments of our mutual projection remaining.
Available at Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B01770ILLA and on Kindle Unlimited.
About the Author: A former psychologist, Normandie has always been fascinated by human behavior. She loves writing quirky characters that are all too human. Fiber arts, baking, and Pinterest are a few of her favorite pastimes. She lives on a farm with a passel of children, hunky husband, and a pet pig who’s crazy for Red Bull. If you’d like up to the minute new release info on Normandie’s books text RACYREADS to 24587.
Twitter at https://twitter.com/NormandieA
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Website: www.normandiealleman.com
Sign-Up for Normandie’s Book Club and get a FREE book: http://eepurl.com/tECW5
Amazon Author Page: http://www.amazon.com/Normandie-Alleman/e/B00BNUDVFW

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6893037.Normandie_Alleman

4 brothers, 4 love affairs, 1 family curse, 12 mos. bestselling THE STANHOPE CHALLENGE #99cents on all @cerisedeland #regency!

BUY LINKS:

ARe  AMAZON    NOOK KOBO   iBooks Celebrating with reduced pricing on all my Regency romances!

The details!

HER BEGUILING BUTLER is 99 cents, reduced from $2.99

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LADY VARNEY'S RISQUE BUSINESS, Regency Romp #1 also 99 Cents!
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RENDEZVOUS WITH A DUKE, 
Regency Romp #2 is 99 cents
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LADY STARLING'S STOCKING'S is 99 cents! (note well: This book is erotic romance. Buy it only if you prefer a more frank intimacy in your romances.)


LADY STARLING’S STOCKINGS http://amzn.to/VG35Bk

Military Month @cerisedeland 's bringing you ELITE GHOSTS w Sabrina York! Hot hot hot!

For more than two years they’ve been ghosts. Nothing but names on empty tombstones. Men and women forced to fade into the background after being pulled from the rubble. Dead Marines saved from a fate worse than death, but ordered to stand down while their lives disappeared all around them.Some knew it could happen if a mission exploded. Double cro Target: Tungsten by Heather Long Bradley “Tungsten” Peck. Marine. Lover. Friend. He’s the man who can get anything, find anyone, and accomplish every goal. At least he was, before he lost the only woman who mattered…he won’t stop until he gets her back or she puts a bullet in him.
Zinc's Heart by Rebecca Royce Zinc has nothing to prove--and everything to lose.
Lithium’s Rescue by Sabrina York He will save her…unless she saves him first.
Thallium's Submission by Anna Alexander From now on the only orders he will follow are hers.
Nickel’s Wounds by Saranna DeWylde Hell hath no fury like a Marine who’s lost her way. Beauty was once her currency, but for a woman who can’t feel anything but agony, she has nothing left. Except the vengeance that could destroy the one man whose love could teach her how to save herself.
Titanium’s Sacrifice by Jennifer Kacey Titanium. Warbucks. Commander. Brother. He is all of those things. And none of them. Giving up everything to save the men and women under his command was easy until it comes to one…last…sacrifice.
Lithium’s Rescue by Sabrina York He will save her…unless she saves him first. Michelle Parsons is on the run. She has evidence of a plot that could destroy the country, but in order to stop her boss and his extremist cohorts from taking over the US Senate, she needs to get the information into the right hands. Trouble is, her contact, the only man she trusts, has been neutralized. She’s all alone. No one can help her.No one, but the Elite Ghosts.It’s a shame then, that when Benedict Butler—Codename: Lithium—shows up to bring her in from the cold, she doesn’t know if she can trust him or not. And when their relationship evolves into something more…he’s not sure he can trust himself either.She does something to him, changes him. Heals him, somehow. And in the end, it’s difficult to say who rescued whom.

Read an Excerpt of Lithium’s Rescue!    Michelle stared at her phone as the realization that Ralley was watching her every move—had been watching her every move—whipped through her in a howl of horror. She should have known. She should have guessed.    She was well aware of ASTCORP’s capabilities—of the sensitive information they collected and processed…and how they got it. She should have assumed Ralley would keep the same leash on his employees.The thought of being watched, listened to, spied on infuriated her.   “Fuck you, Ralley,” she snapped, though he had long ago ended the call. Still, she was certain he heard. He had ears everywhere.   The hell she would wait here for someone to come and collect her.   If Ralley knew everything—and she had to assume he did—she’d never walk away from such an encounter.   She went inside and yanked the curtains closed, even though she knew, if Ralley had eyes on her, he’d be using a thermal scan as well. Shutting him out made her feel better. Then she quickly collected her purse, cash stash and a change of underwear—as well as a knife from the kitchen—and headed for the door.   She had no idea where she was going, other than away, but that would make it harder for Ralley to find her. She didn’t have family or friends outside work. No predictable patterns. She’d slip away in the night to the bus station or the train station and hop on the first transport out of town. Wherever it was going, she would—  She froze as the horrifying sound of a lock snicking shot through the silent room.  Her eyes widened. She lifted the knife.  Hell! Why hadn’t she turned off the lights?  The door eased open with an eerie creak. No one stood in the opening, but Michelle knew better. Someone was there. The barrel of a Sig appeared, capped with a long silencer. Michelle sucked in a breath and ducked back against the wall. When a hand emerged, she slashed it with the knife and, when it clattered to the ground, she executed a roundhouse kick into the doorway in the spot she assumed a face might be.  She got it right. Her assailant flew back with a bellow, slamming into the wall in the hallway.   She bolted forward through the door, but he rallied quickly and caught her around the waist.   With a howl, she kneed him in the crotch and gave him a healthy punch to the kidneys. She knew all the spots where a man was weak. She’d been trained for hand-to-hand combat since birth.  But he was trained too, and he was bigger. Stronger. A stocky, burly sort with a squashed in face and piggy eyes. And speaking of piggy eyes, when he slammed into her, launching them both back into her apartment onto the floor, she gouged at his.  His response was a clout to her cheek.   It stunned her, but only for a moment.  A moment too long.  He captured both her wrists in one hand and pulled a long KA-BAR from its sheath.   The bastard smiled then, revealing a hatred for dentistry. “He wanted you alive, bitch,” he growled in a thickly accented voice. Russian, if she wasn’t mistaken. Funny what little details filtered in when one was about to die. “It wouldn’t be hard to convince him this couldn’t be helped.”  It was disturbing, the way his eyes glinted as he set the blade to her neck, as though slicing it would bring him a great deal of pleasure.  A flicker of movement behind him caught her attention and her gaze shot to the doorway. She didn’t even bother to wince when his compatriot appeared. It was hardly a surprise. These sorts rarely worked alone.  She didn’t know why her focus locked onto the newcomer’s face, why something rose within her, a wail of denial, a wash of regret. Because he was, this second villain, drop dead gorgeous.  In that second, that fleeting moment of time before she died, a great wave of sadness swamped her. In another world, another universe, another dimension, if such things existed, she would want a man like him. He was tall. Broad. Beautiful.  Their gazes clashed and his eyes narrowed. A muscle bunched in his cheek. Something that might have been cold fury rippled over his features.  And then he moved.  To her shock, he grabbed her assailant around the neck with a muscled arm and levered him to his feet. The knife clattered to the floor. The first man howled and flailed, kicking and scratching at the second in a frenzy to be free. He whipped down, throwing the second man over his shoulders and onto the ground—but the beautiful warrior bounded to his feet and faced his foe with a snarl.  They circled each other, there in the foyer of her apartment, each taking the others’ measure.   Michelle would have run, but they were blocking the door, damn it all anyway.  She grabbed the knife though, as it was in range, and scuttled back. She needed to be ready to face the victor when this was over. She had no idea why they were fighting over her, no idea who the second man was, but it hardly mattered. She wasn’t leaving with either of them. She didn’t trust anyone.  It was probably completely idiotic that deep down, in the well of her soul, she hoped the handsome man won. Being handsome didn’t make him a good man. In fact, it often meant the opposite.  The two men came together in a bone-crunching rush. The fight was furious. Fists and grunts and pummeling. The dull thuds of flesh on flesh. The crack of bones. The wet retort of splattering flesh.  It quickly became clear, the pig-eyed man didn’t stand a chance.The warrior, the beast, demolished him with clout after ruthless, savage clout. With one crushing punch, he sent the smaller man teetering back onto the carpet. He didn’t move.  Michelle paid him little mind. She kept her eyes on the victor, the large and looming man with a sinfully beautiful face. Though she held the knife before her, it trembled.  He stared down at the broken man and his lips quirked in what might have been a smile. Or not.    He cracked his knuckles and turned his attention to her. His eyes were cold, emotionless. His expression harsh.  “Strip,” he said.   Just that one word.  Strip.
Elite Ghosts Buy Links Elite links
AMAZON - http://amzn.to/1L4YkMY
B&N – On release day
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KOBO – http://goo.gl/9WguaE
Smashwords - https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/584025


Release Party, November 11:https://www.facebook.com/events/160175867667709/Jigsaw Puzzlehttp://www.jigsawplanet.com/?rc=play&pid=123e72b63e10 Trailerhttps://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lO-2s_JCkGo
Sabrina’s Tiara Giveaway!http://sabrinayork.com/elite-ghost-release-party-prizes-excerpt/
About Sabrina York
Her Royal Hotness, Sabrina York, is the New York Times and USA Today Bestselling author of hot, humorous stories for smart and sexy readers. Her titles range from sweet & sexy to scorching romance.  Visit her webpage at www.sabrinayork.com to check out her books, excerpts and contests. Get updates, alerts and giveaway announcements from Sabrina here: http://eepurl.com/bj8tKb.

Jessica Subject's #3 Alien Attraction out now! Excerpt is yum!

Alien Attraction Alien Next Door book three By Jessica E. SubjectErotic Sci-Fi RomanceISBN: 978-0994843111 She wants to be more alien.He wants to be more human.Born a galaxy apart, will Angela and Chal have a chance at love, or will their extraterrestrial secrets leave them running to stay alive?Available From:Amazon US / UK / Canada / Germany / Australia All Romance | Barnes & Noble | Coffee Time Google Play | iBooks | Kobo | Smashwords Add to Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/27280631-alien-attraction
Related titles: Alien Adoration (Alien Next Door book one) Alien Admirer (Alien Next Door book two)
Excerpts:Excerpt 1 (PG)“We need to talk.”Tossing the clothes and keys inside, she stood in the entrance, blocking his view of her home. “No, we needed to talk last Saturday, last Sunday, or Monday even. Not today. It’s too late. I get the message. You’ve avoided me all week, because you weren’t away on business. I heard you enough times slamming cupboards, drawers, and arguing with the voices in your head.”“With my brother.”“Whatever. Plenty of time to come over and talk.”She ducked inside and shut him out, but couldn’t quite latch the door, Chal obviously pushing on it from the other side.“I know what you are.” The words came out in barely a whisper, but loud enough for her to quit fighting him. “I know what that thing is on the floor behind you, and even though it’s giving me a killer headache, I’m still here because, as I said, we need to talk.”Grabbing the front of his shirt, Angela yanked him inside, and locked the world out. “Fine, what do you know?”Excerpt 2 (Adult)Resting his palm on her hip bone, he resisted the urge to scoop her up in his arms and take her to the bedroom. Could living in this part of the world be so easy for his kind? “What about you? Could you fall in love with an alien?”She smiled, her body relaxing again. “I am absolutely sure I could.”“What about a regular human being?” Slowly gathering her skirt up her legs, he waited for her answer. Would she reject him?“Could I fall in love with someone from Earth? Sure.” She moved her hand down and began to rub his inner thigh. “If that someone is you.”Lust oozed out of her pores, accelerating his desire. He sat up, anxious to kiss her sweet lips. So soft and tender. She wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned back, pulling him on top of her. Chal plunged his tongue into her mouth the way he wanted to experience other parts of her.Angela held the hem of his sweater, drawing the material up until he was forced to draw back for a moment to get the dang thing off. As she trailed her palms up and down his back, Chal slipped his hands under the skirt of her dress. He yearned for more. All of her. No internal warnings with his neighbor. Every inch of his being encouraged him on, to make the ultimate connection with the woman who said she could love an alien.Clasping her waist, he ran his thumbs along the edge of her undergarments. With a throaty moan, she thrust toward him. Encouragement?He lifted his head and gazed into her honey-colored eyes. “Do you want this?”She nodded and pulled him back down, claiming his mouth the way he yearned to claim her. When she elevated her hips, he slid his fingers beneath her undergarments and shimmied them down her thighs. Bio:Jessica E. Subject is the author of science fiction romance, mostly alien romances, ranging from sweet to super hot. Sometimes she dabbles in paranormal and contemporary as well, bringing to life a wide variety of characters. In her stories, you could not only meet a sexy alien or two, but also clones and androids. You may be transported to a dystopian world where rebels are fighting to live and love, or to another planet for a romantic rendezvous. When Jessica is not reading, writing, or doing dreaded housework, she likes to get out and walk with her giant, hairy dog her family adopted from the local animal shelter.Jessica lives in Ontario, Canada with her husband and two energetic children. And she loves to hear from her readers. You can find her at jessicasubject.com and on twitter @jsubject.Website/Blog | Newsletter | Twitter | Facebook | Pinterest | Goodreads | Amazon | Authorgraph
Full links:Amazon US: http://www.amazon.com/Alien-Attraction-SciFi-Romance-Next-ebook/dp/B0176HGYXG/?tag=jesesubaut-20Amazon UK: http://www.amazon.co.uk/Alien-Attraction-SciFi-Romance-Next-ebook/dp/B0176HGYXG/Amazon Canada: http://www.amazon.ca/Alien-Attraction-SciFi-Romance-Next-ebook/dp/B0176HGYXG/Amazon Germany: http://www.amazon.de/Alien-Attraction-SciFi-Romance-Next-ebook/dp/B0176HGYXG/Amazon Australia: http://www.amazon.com.au/Alien-Attraction-SciFi-Romance-Next-ebook/dp/B0176HGYXG/
All Romance: https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-alienattraction-1913726-340.html?referrer=553a3537cadb6Barnes & Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/books/1122861523Coffee Time Romance: http://www.coffeetimeromance.com/BookStore/pubs_product_book_info/indie-authors-jessica-e-subject-c-152_242/alien-attraction-p-14302Google Play: https://play.google.com/store/books/details/Jessica_E_Subject_Alien_Attraction?id=6QTPCgAAQBAJiBooks: https://geo.itunes.apple.com/us/book/alien-attraction/id1053185636?mt=11Kobo: https://store.kobobooks.com/en-ca/ebook/alien-attraction-1Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/588127?ref=jaysubject
Website: http://jessicasubject.comNewsletter: http://eepurl.com/eX1ZwTwitter: http://twitter.com/jsubjectFacebook: http://www.facebook.com/pages/Jessica-E-Subject-author/205759796126370Pinterest: http://pinterest.com/jessicasubject/Google+: https://plus.google.com/u/0/100079570422204018357/Amazon Author Page: http://amazon.com/author/jessicasubjectGoodreads Page: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4959083.Jessica_E_Subject
Authorgraph: http://www.authorgraph.com/authors/jsubject

Burn for a SEAL? Try 5 star BURNING FOR NERO @cerisedeland's for Military Month!

This is the BURNING cover
AMAZON DIDN'T LIKE! Too much skin!BURNING FOR NERO by Cerise DeLand is #2 in SEALs GOING HOT series!    Who is Nero? Tony Nero is a SEAL going home for July 4th weekend to see his family and the woman he has tried to forget for more than a decade!    On leave due to an injury, Navy SEAL Tony Nero heads home for a little R&R and some Fourth of July fun. When his buddy’s widow Cass Phillips picks him up at the air station, Tony figures he’s in for a sexually frustrating few days. He’s had the hots for the blonde siren for years, but his best friend won her heart first. Even though Ray’s been gone more than a year, Tony bets Cass isn’t interested in any man. Not him. And especially not another SEAL.   Cass has a bone to pick with longtime friend, Tony. After her husband died, he was the closest thing her little boy had to a father figure. His visits stopped abruptly and her son doesn't understand why. Neither does she. She's also unable to quench her growing need for the tough and tender man. She's already loved and lost one SEAL, but that doesn't stop her from burning for Nero. THIS IS THE NEW AMAZON COVER!
BUY LINK:
http://amzn.to/1leONHu
Need a nibble of Cerise’s newest cherry? Of course you do! Copyright 2014, Cerise DeLand. All rights reserved.    Wild to leave, Cass headed through the French doors. Across the patio to the lawn, she sank in the lush grass. Catching herself time and again from turning an ankle, she strode toward the boathouse. She stayed there whenever she visited, not wishing to sleep in the room she and Ray had shared when Ray was alive. Jon still slept up at the main house with his grandparents, thinking it a vacation from Mommy and ordinary restrictions. Tonight, Cass needed the solitude the hideaway offered.
   The moon was bright and she made her way quickly. She got to the steps before Tony’s hand grasped her wrist, the strength of the man she wished to escape halting her in her tracks.   “Stop. Cass, stop.” And hoping you need more of these fabulous men, here is
the complete series:
AMAZON  ARe    NOOK   Kobo   iTunes     “No.” No, she would not cry or beg or scream. She couldn’t demean herself like that. She took a step, but the giant in her path caught her against him. With just one arm, Tony could trap her.Against his formidable body, against her better judgment, she wanted to simply stand there, never move.   He crushed her close, nearer than he ever had before, and she felt the power of his presence. His one good hand pressed her fully against him, then glided down her spine to press her hips to his. She caught her breath. He was hard. And he wanted her.   She turned to leave.   “Stay. Stay.”   She shook her head, her gaze beyond him. “Let me go, Tony.”   “I don’t want to.” He lifted her chin with his injured hand. “Look at me.”  Bravery was her forte. Hell, she’d been a warrior’s wife. To face this one was easy peasy. Right?   She met his gaze.   Not the viper, not the seducer, not her friend, this man gazed down at her and absorbed her distress with sympathetic eyes. “You don’t want to go, either.”   “I couldn’t watch—” Oh, lord. Had she really blurted that? She was botching this.   “She came on to me, Cass.”    She stared at him, caught between delight at his words and regret at her. If she had more nerve, she could own up to wanting him. If she weren’t so stuck in her friendship rut, she could make a move on him. Was her pride more important than finding out if he could care for her as more than a friend?    “Listen to me.” He stroked the small of her back. “I didn’t encourage her. Why would I, Cass?” His last words were so raw, she barely heard them. But the sorrow in them thrilled her and she looked up at him again. “Why would I when I just want to be with you? Tell you how I loved your song and dance with Jon. Praise you and say you are the finest mother, babe. Why would I want to be with her when you’re the one I want to talk to? Huh? Tell me.”   She was speechless with joy.   He cradled her near him as if she were fragile china. The feel of him was heaven, like coming home to a safe place she’d never known existed. He dropped kisses to the crown of her hair and his gentleness stunned her so that she wrapped her arms around his waist and burrowed into him.   He groaned and stepped out of her embrace.   Unbalanced, she stumbled.    But he clasped her hand and pulled her along, striding like a mercenary on a mission toward the front door of her boathouse. At the threshold, he halted, dropped her hand and looked down at her, a muscle in his jaw jumping. “Invite me inside, Cass.”   An order, a metaphor, a plea. His words were all of them and she reveled in their potential. In one lunge, she swept open the screen door and pulled him inside.   He whirled her against the inside wall, pinning her there with his body and cupping her throat. “Tell me why I’m here.”   Words would be too much, too soon. She’d show him. She undulated against him, this man she had watched and wanted for months now. Wrapping her arms around him, she brushed her mouth against the corded column of his throat, nuzzling the hollow beneath his Adam’s apple. She parted her lips to taste the musk of his very healthy body. She rose on her toes, pulling him closer, nestling her puckered lips into the hollow beneath his cheekbones. She slid her mouth to his and he waited, still as stone, letting her lead.   Ah, god. She had hungered for this decadent taste of him for so long. She’d been so careful to tease apart her motives. Tony was kind, caring, no clone of Ray. No substitute either. She wanted him for his sweet, bad self. Could he want her because she was different from any other woman he took to bed? She paused to examine him.   “Don’t stop now. What’s in your eyes is too raw to be best friends with benefits.” He grabbed a fistful of her curls and yanked her head gently. “I won’t trespass. Our ties are too old, too strong. So, whatever I’m here for say it, or I’m leaving and we forget this ever happened.”   “Stay.” She took his mouth as if she were a dying woman, needing only the succor he gave. His lips were firm and willing. She grabbed him by the shirt, yearning to hold all of him, lose herself inside  him. “I want all of you.”   “Since when?”   “Months and months.”  Growling, he pressed flush against her from chest to thighs He seized her lips, bestowing sizzling kisses, grazing her tender flesh, scouring her mind. He sent his tongue inside the cavern of mouth and probed and plunged, fierce, claiming and testing. She mewled.   Breathless, he yanked away. “I’m hurting you.”   “No.” She curled her hands around his neck and drew his mouth once more to hers. “I need you to need me like that.”   “Christ, baby.” He sucked on her lips. “I’m trying not to gobble you up.”   “Damn. You’d better.”   He stopped, surprise living in his gaze, feral, dominant. This was that other Nero. Predator. Marauder. The sight of him in his splendor made her knees quiver. “What else can I do for you?”   When had any man ever asked her that? She licked her lips. “Multiple orgasms.”   He nodded, grinning. “Your wish is my command.”   Helpless joy flooded her. She’d grown so tired of Ray’s selfishness, she’d questioned any man’s desire to satisfy her in bed or out. The one man she had opened her legs for last year had turned out to be a total dud. All slap and tickle, full of sound and fury signifying nothing but meh. “You can deliver, huh?”   “Complain to me at any time,” Tony whispered with such utter compassion, that she realized he understood she lacked inspired loving. “One rule though,” he said against her mouth, his hand stroking her spine.   To have this man in her bed, inside her, this man to roll with and rock with? Oh, yes. Yes. “Name it.”