Delilah Devlin's Blog, page 386

Bibi Rizer: Why a Book is Seldom Just a Book

I hear a lot of complaints from bloggers and reviewers about “cliffhanger endings” and books that don’t work as a standalone. I sympathize, of course. Myself, I’m in a constant state of briny froth about what might happen next on the TV show Vikings. But the other hand, as an author, I know all too well why some books just never end.  Let me tell you a little story to illustrate:

Like a lot of indie authors, I also publish books through traditional publishers. For me, I focus traditional publishing on my YA books. So I published two books from a series a few years ago and I had a third book sort of mapped out in my head. I knew what kind of trouble I was going to get my rather troublesome heroine into, but I hadn’t quite worked out how I would get her out of trouble – that would work itself out in the first draft.

I called my editor at the publisher just wanting to run a few things past her and she gave me the bad news that they didn’t think they would go ahead with a third book in the series. “Marketing, money, sales, format but we’d love to see what else you have…blah blah blah”. All I heard was the plaintive weeping of my heroine. I literally thought “What am I going to tell her?” I had gotten her into a mess and now I would never get her out of it. It was like she was trapped. Days went past where I existed with a kind of constant sense of doom, worrying about her as though she was my own child.

It was weeks before I could even write anything else. I wanted to continue her story. When you spend two books with a character as their author they become part of you. My heroine is only seventeen when the second book ends. What‘s to become of her? Will she get through high school without getting suspended again? Will her relationship succeed? Will she ever make that trip to New York she’s been so looking forward to? If I don’t write her story I might never know. Only in writing things about the characters I love can I fix their destinies. Without my intervention, anything could happen – good things or awful things.

Even when I write books that are neatly tied up at the end with a satisfying and believable happily ever after I find the world I’ve created continues churning along. In Electrify Me, which ended with an HEA for the two leads, there was a small character called Levi. As I read my final draft I thought “He seems a little tightly wound up. Maybe he needs a holiday”. That holiday became Objectify Me. In Objectify Me Levi’s best friend Buck obviously has a slightly worrying drug habit. Buck is going to get himself clean in Purify Me, the next novella in the Fireworks Series. Will it ever end? Maybe not.

Small characters may seem inconsequential to readers, but to authors they often have complete backstories as well as just as many hopes and dreams as the main characters. Unless I kill them off (which is often a temptation) their problems become my problems. And sometimes they get their own whole book. Furthermore despite our best efforts in tying up every loose end even for our main characters, sometimes “happily ever after” is actually “happily until something horrible happens and then we start all over”.

So when you’re getting frustrated about a book that ends on a cliffhanger or a series that never seems to end, spare a thought for the author. If you want to know what happens next to a beloved character all you have to do is buy the book and read it; we have to write the darn thing.

Read my Blog: http://bibirizer.com/

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A Question… (Contest)

My day will be full of diapers and Spongebob today! I’ll have my feet propped up on the ottoman and my laptop on my knees. But it will be flung aside a dozen times as I chase down the 19-month-old—she tends to put things in her mouth that don’t belong there. Her favorite “food” right now is her Honest Company diapers. At least she’s no longer eating her crib—we traded the wood one for an industrial metal crib. 

Anyways, my day will be exhausting. So I thought about what to do for a blog today, and I’ve got nada. It’s 6:10 AM, and there is no inspiration. Yes, I have new releases to talk about, and if you want to know about them, just click on the covers below, but for right now, I’ll ask a simple question and offer you a bribe to answer it.

Post a comment today, and you’ll be entered to win a free download from either my Lone Star Lovers series or my Delta Heat series! Here’s the question…

Which month of the year has the best aromas?

LOL. Easy right? If you love the scents of honeysuckle and pina colada tanning lotion, you might love July. Love the smell of roasting turkey…? You get the drift.

And just a reminder, I do have two sexy, fun-as-hell stories out there right now…

  

Here’s a short excerpt from Johnny Blaze!

Johnny Blaze stood, framed by the curtain, his fireman’s hat tipped low in front, the stage lights gleaming on the shiny top and shadowing his features. His tanned chest and ripped abs were bare except for red suspenders–thankfully, attached to yellow turnout pants. His large feet were encased by black boots. He raised a finger and curled it–twice.

I shook my head, glancing behind me to find the stairs, but gentle pressure on my shoulders forced me to my knees.

“Gotta crawl, Bridget,” biker dude drawled. “All the way on your knees.”

He knew my name? Kneeling, I cut him a quick glance. “I’m in a skirt.”

His smile gleamed white against his darkly tanned face. “I know. Sweet how that worked out.”

And because I knew I’d been set up, and that I couldn’t back away from the challenge now, I bent, pulled my skirt down in the back to cover my ass, and started to crawl on hands and knees toward the fireman who stood stock still, his hands fisted on his hips.

Lord, he looked so much like my inappropriate crush that what had been a trickle became a warm gush against my panties. I imagined it was him, that he had me in my bedroom, crawling toward him and his lovely baggy pants. The things I’d do…

Only the closer I drew, the deeper my suspicions grew.

His chest rose and fell too quickly–not something I’d expect from a guy who hadn’t yet danced his way around the stage. His expression was hidden, but the angle of his jaw, so rigid, so still, reminded me of the new fireman in my hometown I’d been lusting after for weeks.

Rather than contemplate my very embarrassing trek across the stage, I thought about the man who’d been on my mind since I’d first spied him. The reception desk at the library faced the front door, which had wide glass panels looking onto the main street and the fire station on the other side. I’d spent weeks leaning on an elbow and sighing over the new guy, the one Syl said was single and not a player. She’d been trying to hook me up for weeks, inviting me to drop by with cookies for the men–something I’d done in the past, but which I’d refrained from doing since his arrival because I didn’t want to seem too eager or desperate.

Besides, what would someone who looked like that want with me?

I kept crawling, but suddenly, two thick legs gripped my waist. Biker dude straddled my waist, but kept his weight from me. With one hand gripping my shoulder, he gave my ass a slap.

“Don’t stop now,” he said loudly, slapping me lightly as I crawled faster, his body hopping to keep pace with me. The problem was, his thighs dragged at my skirt, and soon I felt cool air brushing against my bottom. I tried to reach back, but he was in the way. “My skirt!”

“Don’t worry about it, sugar! Gotta have those birthday spanks.”

My face got hotter; I started to sweat. I crawled, tugging his thighs along with me until I was three feet from Johnny Blaze, who had yet to move.

Biker dude stepped away. I pulled my skirt back over my ass, one cheek burning. A chair appeared beside me. Johnny moved, sat with his legs spread, and patted his muscled thigh.

The gesture was deliberate. I shook my head and glanced up again, seeing his face for the first time. My jaw dropped.

With a flourish, he tossed his hat away, grabbed my upper arm, and hauled me over his lap, face down.

Pushing up, I tried to lean away, but he stuck his elbow in my back, and I collapsed, the undersides of my breasts riding the side of one huge thigh. “What are you doing here?” I whispered harshly.

“Giving you your birthday present,” he drawled.

Lexi Post: Unexpected Eden (Contest)

Thanks for having be back, Delilah! I love visiting your blog to talk about the inspiration for my latest story. This one is the second in my Eden series titled Unexpected Eden.

I write erotic romance inspired by the classics. I know, sounds strange, but it so works. Believe it or not, the Eden series started when I read an Emily Dickinson poem. Yup. Instead of the typical death, nature, or religious subject matter, the poem “Wild Nights. Wild Nights!” was very passionate and that caught my attention because she was known as a recluse and a spinster. What fascinated me was a reference to Eden in a nontraditional way and so I created the planet Eden. There are some basics for every reader to know about Eden.

On Eden only males are born.

No one wears clothes as that would be an insult.

It’s a minimum of two men to every woman.

And each Edenist is born with an ability related to his Kindred which is obvious by his birthmark.

Unexpected Eden was actually inspired by a Dickinson poem titled “Come slowly Eden.” This is another passionate poem that focuses on a bee and a flower but in a rather sexual context. So in my story, the flower is Serena, a pyrotechnic expert who works on sci-fi movies, and the bees are a couple of Edenists, Jahl and Khaos. Though the men would like to go slowly when it comes to convincing Serena to stay and be their beloved, they only have a week, so slow can’t be in their plan. However, Serena is a pretty confident woman with strong ties to her family, so staying on Eden for a vacation is fine but more than that is a problem.

Will there be more to the series? Oh yeah. Dickinson wrote over 2,000 poems, so I’m guessing there’s a good dozen that reveal this inner passion that is so at odds with what we know about the poet. I may just have to explore every one of those particular poems through Eden!

Always, Lexi

For a chance to win the first book in the series, Cruise into Eden, enter the rafflecopter below.

Unexpected Eden Blurb (Coming April 24 – up for pre-order):

Serena Upton wonders if she’s been transported into one of the science fiction movies she works on with her pyrotechnics skill. It certainly seems so when she’s rescued by three hot, naked men from another planet. She’s whisked away to Loraleaf, their home in the jungle of Eden, with the expectation that she will become their beloved. As they cater to her in every way, she begins to understand what it means to be their chosen one.

Jahl and Khaos risked everything, even the brother of their heart, to bring Serena home, but grief and self-doubt, etched in stone by their own families, seems insurmountable. Their only hope is that she can fill the void in their lives. They succeed in sweeping her up in their erotic passion, but they are unable to capture her heart.

Though Serena cares for Jahl and Khaos, she’s convinced she’s not the answer to their damaged souls. It’s better that she return to her family on Earth before she cares too much. That is, if she doesn’t already.

Pre-order Link

Unexpected Eden Excerpt:

Jahl stood there, his face and body hard but his heart a scarred mess. She wanted to comfort him, tell him he was worth so much more, but his pain was so old. What made her think she could make a difference. “I don’t know what to say.”

“There’s nothing to say. It’s history. You are the future.”

“Me, why me?” She backed up another step, Jahl’s gaze too focused on her.

He moved covering the space between them in two strides. His hands grasped her shoulders, but not roughly. “Because you are our chosen one. We want you for our beloved.”

It was too much, too fast. “But why me? Why am I your chosen one. Why not another woman, why not Toni for example?”

He titled his head in confusion. “You are not Toni. You are Serena, caring, curious, helpful, interested in other planetary life. We have watched you and waited until we could make Loraleaf safe for you and others who would follow you.”

“Others?” She started to feel like she was in a sci-fi horror movie. Would cloning be next? Is that why all these men had such amazing physiques and got along so well? Suddenly, she wished Sandale was here to help her calm down.

Jahl’s face softened as if he sensed her rising panic. “Yes, other women. Many filoz have been waiting to woo their woman to Eden. Some have already begun. They waited for us to bring you, so that you could help others understand, transition to our life here at Loraleaf.”

Her heart went out to him. But understanding what he wanted for his people and being sympathetic toward his cause did not convince her to give up her own life. She stared into his dark blue eyes. They begged her to stay though the word “please” had yet to cross his lips. She didn’t want to hear that word from him…ever.

She lifted her hand to his face. Unlike Khaos, he didn’t hesitate, he grasped it in his own and kissed her palm.

“I think I need to learn more about Eden and Loraleaf.”

He nodded. “You will.”

“You have had six years to learn about me, but I just met you a couple nights ago. I need get to know you as well.”

His gaze left hers and in the silence, she thought he would refuse to share himself. But he finally focused on her again. “If that is important to you, I will tell you what you wish to know.”

Her heartbeat sped at his concession.

“But make sure it is necessary because some parts of my life are not pretty.”

She swallowed. “I understand.”

“Good. Now I must go and attend to other concerns. Do not leave the house until I return.” He leaned down and gave her a kiss. It started as a quick good-bye kiss, but after he’d brushed her lips, his arms wrapped around her and he pulled her close. “Serena.” He breathed her name against her lips before his tongue invaded her mouth and the kiss turned erotic.

Heat flared in her belly and she welcomed his taste. His hand tilted her head to better his access to her mouth, and she held onto his shoulders as her world tipped.

He pulled away, looking bemused by his own actions. Without a word, he turned on his heel and strode out of the room.

She sank to the floor, her knees too weak to support her, her mind too jumbled to think and her heart torn in a million directions. What the hell was she doing?

About Lexi:

Lexi Post is a New York Times and USA Today best-selling author of erotic romance. She spent years in higher education taking and teaching courses about the classical literature she loved. From Edgar Allan Poe’s short story “The Masque of the Red Death” to Tolstoy’s War and Peace, she’s read, studied, and taught wonderful classics.

But Lexi’s first love is romance novels. In an effort to marry her two first loves, she started writing erotic romance inspired by the classics and found she loved it. Lexi believes there is no end to the romantic inspiration she can find in great literature. Her books are known as “erotic romance with a whole lot of story.”

Lexi is living her own happily ever after with her husband and her cat in Florida. She makes her own ice cream every weekend, loves bright colors, and you will never see her without a hat.

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Elle James: Lions, Witches & Wolves–Oh, my! (Contest)

POSSESSING THE WITCH is my Harlequin Nocturne releasing April 1st! What a great book to release on April Fool’s Day. The second in my Dark Lord Series following THE WITCH’S INITIATION.

This story is another twist on Beauty and the Beast. Did you watch the television show Beauty and the Beast back in the late 80’s with Ron Pearlman and Linda Hamilton? I loved it! It was dark, edgy and full of romantic tension. I’ve given a different take on this story with the Chicago underground tunnels that were built back in the early 1900’s to deliver goods to merchants in the downtown area. It was not all they’d hoped it would be and soon the tunnels fell into disrepair and were shut off to the public.

 Or were they?

In my world, the misfits and mutants found their way into the tunnels and made them home. My hero, Gryph Leone, is a shifter, raised in below Chicago. Given the best education by his adopted father, he learned to make a very good living despite his location.

Selene Chattox is one of five sisters who live in Chicago and help fight paranormal crime because they are gifted witches. Dive into their world and take a walk along the dangerous tunnels beneath the city of Chicago. You never know who or what you will find!

****For a chance to win a $5 Gift card***

Join my newsletter and come post a comment here letting me know you did and tell me about your favorite paranormal show, series or movie.

Possessing the Witch

Amazon | Nook | Kobo

IBooks

A spirit witch and a recluse unite to save their city 

Gryph Leone keeps a low profile because he considers himself a freak of nature. But when his powerful senses detect a woman in distress, his lion takes over. Before he knows it, he’s in a losing battle with a wolf shifter. And then a beautiful woman with bewitching eyes and her own secrets finds him.

Selene Chattox didn’t know what—or who—she’d find when she followed her premonition to the river’s edge. When she discovers Gryph, the spirit witch brings the injured stranger home, determined to resist the intense desire he evokes in her. But as he heals, they know fate has brought them together as they track a ruthless killer through the tunnels of Chicago. And as their passion ignites, so does the danger…

About the Author:

New York Times and USA Today Bestselling Author ELLE JAMES also writing as MYLA JACKSON is a former IT professional and retired Army and Air Force Reservist. She writes romantic suspense, mysteries and paranormal romance that keeps her readers on the edges of their seats to the very end of every book. When she’s not at her computer, she’s traveling to exotic and wonderful places, snow-skiing, boating, or riding her four-wheeler, dreaming up new stories.

Website | Blog | Facebook | Twitter | GoodReads | Newsletter | Amazon Author Page

J. J. Lore: Embrace the Outliers

There are a lot of unseen pressures on a writer. We have to pick the right characters, come up with a great plot, find our ‘voice’, put words on the page, and get to ‘the end’. Once we’ve done that, there’s the whole process of polishing, submitting, and waiting for approval or rejection. If you’re lucky, you sign a contract and have the awesome pleasure of ripping your story apart to please editors. Don’t get me started on the delight that is promotion, or the vast, unexplored sea of self-publishing.

When I embarked upon this work, it wasn’t with some great plan in mind. I had ideas, wrote them down, and with great trepidation let someone else read it. As I delved deeper into the erotic romance genre, I despaired. I didn’t have any vampires or shifters, no BDSM, no motorcycle gangs or heroic SEALs. Heck, I didn’t even use bad language! Those were the things on the market so that’s what people wanted, right? Therefore, if I didn’t write that, there weren’t going to be any readers for my stories. Why bother?

After some metaphorical and literal hand-wringing, I squared my shoulders, cracked my knuckles, and got back to it. Writers write, and that’s what I am. Everything else is secondary. As I worked, I came to realize that there is room for my sorts of tales. My heroes are confident and considerate and my heroines are humble and hard working. They go through experiences that bring them to a place of trust and respect. I can’t think of characters who deserve sexual fulfillment and a happy ending more than they do! My audience might be smaller, but once I find them, I know I can give them an entertaining read. What I’ve come away with is the realization that there’s room for everyone; all sorts of heroes, all kinds of adventures, every sort of kink.

 

While on a clandestine visit to Earth, Prince Edem of Alpha and his bondmate Mallet by chance meet a humble cook who intrigues them. The impulsive prince feels a brief fling with an exotic human female sounds like the perfect way to conclude their travels, while his more pragmatic bondmate urges caution.

Despite all the reasons to avoid her, the Alphans seek her out, intrigued by her prickly pride and defiant disposition. For her part, Corrine is intimidated by these imposing and mysterious alien men, but finds herself overwhelmed by their determined courtship.

Edem and Mallet convince themselves their deepening feelings for Corrine do not have to include bonding, since such a commitment is forbidden by the King and subjects of Alpha, determined to keep the bloodline pure. But when danger threatens, the three are forced to choose between having the galaxy at their feet or losing each other forever.

Buy Links:

http://www.amazon.com/Ruled-Planet-Alpha-J-J-Lore-ebook/dp/B00U8389HK/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF8

https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-ruled-1758583-340.html

http://www.evernightpublishing.com/ruled-by-j-j-lore/

http://www.bookstrand.com/ruled-mmf

About J. J. Lore

J. J. Lore needs three things; strong, black coffee, time to write, and…well…you can guess the third. When she isn’t inventing fantastical tales filled with passionate people, she’s shaking sriracha on whatever she’s eating or reading about the Justinian plague. For updates on her bestselling erotic romance releases, visit her at http://mllesnarratif.com/j-j-lore/ or follow on Twitter @JJLore1

Ruled excerpt:

They made her shake. She’d thought it was first with anger, then fear, but as Mal eased his mouth against hers while Edem circled his fingers down her back, she knew she was shaking with lust. How had she gotten here? She’d been so insulted by the gift she’d rushed to them thoughtlessly and had somehow admitted to them she was frightened of sex, but now was barely able to keep on her feet for the heat blooming in her pussy.

Someone’s hands were pulling at the hem of her shirt, and she drew away from Mal to glance down and discover Edem had insinuated his fingertips underneath the material and was now rubbing along her bare waist. Her skin tingled. Mal reached for her buttons and had the front of her shirt open before she realized what was happening. When the cool air reached her nearly exposed breasts, she automatically reached to bring the edges back together, her breath rushing in and out with a mix of desire and caution.

“Let us see and touch. Just here,” Edem said softly as he caressed her lower back. Mal stared at her, his eyes darkening as he gave a slight nod. It was stupid to even consider it, but she seemed to be doing lots of stupid things lately. This could be the test. She could say no and hope they would stop. Would they let her control this? She didn’t want to say no yet, though. She sucked in a breath and urged her stiff fingers to cooperate as she released her grip on the shirt. She was wearing a bra, so she could say no when then tried to remove that final layer and expose her.

Edem let out a sigh and tugged at her sleeves, her blouse falling from her shoulders. She couldn’t stop her shiver as the cool air trickled across her back and stomach. Mal tightened his grip on her waist, and with a start she realized he had a sizeable erection and it was pressed into her belly. Normally, she’d shy away, but somehow knowing how aroused he was pleased her rather than made her anxious.

Mal trailed his fingers along her collarbones. “You’re lovely.”

“So delicate,” Edem chimed in, and she glanced at him, wondering what he thought of her faded, repaired bra. He was a powerful man on his planet and was probably used to women who were perfumed, groomed, and attired in beautiful chiffons and laces. She failed on all counts.

Sliding his hand along her side, Edem cupped one of her breasts, pushing her flesh slightly up. Her nipple contracted in a painful nub, and she inhaled deeply. He ran his thumb over the sensitized bit of flesh, and the material of her bra bit into her.

Mal dipped his head her way, long strands of his dark hair trailing along her bare shoulders. He pressed a kiss to the top swell of the breast Edem was holding, and she shook at the sensation of both of them caressing her in synchronicity. She clenched her hands in confusion. She wanted to touch them but wasn’t sure how. She’d always been confused and tense with the few men she’d been with, which had undoubtedly contributed to her discomfort with the act.

Soft lips nibbled at her neck, and she leaned away from him, not to avoid the touch as she should, but to allow him more room. The ticklish sensations crept over her nerves, and she compulsively reached up to clutch at Edem’s head, her fingers sinking into his surprisingly silky hair. He bit her throat gently in response, and a surprised moan burst from her. Before she could think further, Mal had fastened his mouth over her nipple and pressed his teeth to the sensitized flesh. Her whole body jolted uncontrollably, and she cried out, unable to hold back the sound of surprise and excitement.

“It would be better without this,” Edem whispered in her ear as he ran his fingers under the shoulder strap of her bra. Mal rumbled against her breast, and she reached her other hand out to trace into his hair, careful to avoid those curving horns. “May I?”

Sm{B}itten is here!

Here’s hoping you’ve gotten your copy and are happily reading it! If you have time, I hope you’ll post a review somewhere. Help another reader decide whether it’s worth their time and money! And if you haven’t bought your copy—the time’s now! It’s only $0.99, but that price won’t last long.

True love bites!

Emmy Harris knows she’s not perfect. She has a little extra padding and isn’t the brightest bulb, but you’d think she was a sexy rock star the way everyone at a certain night club treats her from the moment she walks through the door. In fact, the two sexiest men there can’t seem to keep their hands off her, until one of them sweeps her away to his private domain. A girl like her isn’t going to waste a chance like that! So he’s a little rough and likes to take a nibble or two while he pleasures her. For a girl who didn’t know she’d never experienced a full-blown orgasm before, Dylan’s eccentricities are delicious!

Dylan O’Hara only wants a night of passion to slake his lusts, but finds Emmy is a full-bodied, red-blooded siren whose innocence and humor draw this Master vampire like a moth to a red-hot flame. When Emmy attracts the attention of a serial-killing vampire, Dylan vows to protect her, but he fears he’ll lose Emmy once she discovers he’s not quite human…

Buy at Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Kobo

Brent Archer: A Thousand Words…At least!

When most of us glance at a picture, we see the main subject we’re looking at: a person we know, ourselves, the new house our friend just bought, the bride and groom at our cousin’s wedding. Most of the time we don’t really examine the full photo. All those details in the background hidden in plain sight. As I’ve embarked on my writing career, I’ve come to see pictures as worlds of their own, crammed full of inspiration. Each piece of the photo can be a story in itself.

My short story, Aboard the Aquitania, is set on the HMS Aquitania in the Roaring Twenties as part of a steamy anthology called Flappers, Jazz, and Valentino. In doing research for the story, I found old pictures of the luxury liner on the internet, and one of the pictures really stuck with me. It is the shot of the main dining room. While my main characters Penny, Mikey, and Johnny sat at one of the tables with their smart tuxedos and black bow ties, the other tables held heartbreak, consternation, joy, you name it. Did Lillian Gish enjoy dinner at that very table on the prior crossing? Did Charlie Chaplin stand on the balcony overlooking the room with his signature cane? Did a waiter get fired for spilling soup on a New York socialite at the second to last table on the left?

The background of a picture can be a fascinating place to look for inspiration. As I examined this photo for details to describe, I thought about the stewards who came in to tidy the room before it opened to the passengers. Maybe one took a drag off a cigarette as he straightened a tablecloth while another of his fellow crew watched from behind a pillar longing to touch him. The artwork on the ceiling had to be painted with scaffolding and a lot of precision. Perhaps the artist had a lover waiting in one of the cabins while he worked. This photo alone holds far more than a thousand words worth of stories, each a potential short story or novel.

So next time you look at a picture, peruse the background. Who is sitting at the back table in the distance smiling happily at the couple in the foreground? Who is the lady on the bench shading her eyes from the sun behind your cousin catching his Frisbee at the park? Find the story lurking behind the main subject and see how many words it’s worth.

****

You can read about Johnny, Mikey, and Penny’s adventure Aboard the Aquitania here in House of Erotica’s Flappers, Jazz, and Valentino edited by Jillian Boyd.

Excerpt:

The three friends strolled along the promenade, and descended the stairs two decks. Entering the First Class Foyer, Johnny noted several couples milling in the spacious room around pillars holding up the artfully painted ceiling.

Mikey looked around. “Terrif.”

Penny nodded. “Indeed.”

Johnny led them though the throng, and opened the door to the Louis XVI Restaurant. Round-backed wooden chairs surrounded small, round tables. Greek pillars supported an upper level balcony overlooking the dining room. The ceilings sported glittering chandeliers and a large, ornate painting over the center of the room.

“Good evening, gentlemen. A table?”

Johnny turned his attention to the maître d’. The middle-aged gentleman standing before them gestured to a table by a window.

“Thank you, yes.”

He pulled out the chair for Johnny. “Your waiter will be with you shortly.”

“Cheers.” Mikey pulled out his own chair while the waiter pushed the chair under Johnny as he sat. He walked away with a backward glance and a smile.

Mikey chuckled. “He’s a bit of a vamp, isn’t he?”

Penny laughed. “Sure enough.”

Johnny cocked his head. “What do you mean?”

The other two men at the table exchanged glances.

“Is nobody home? He’s keen on you.”

Johnny took the menu. “No he’s not.” He studied it, ignoring the taunts of his friends.

A young dark-haired man in a white shirt, bowtie, and black slacks approached them. “May I get you something from the bar?”

Johnny admired his kissable lips and slender form. “Rum and coke.”

Mikey put down his menu. “Screwdriver.”

“Nothing for me.”

Johnny and Mikey turned to Penny. “You what?”

“I’ll have something after dinner.”

Johnny rolled his eyes. “Our friend will have a Highball.”

The waiter nodded and left them. Johnny turned to Penny.

“No drink? What’s eating you?”

“Nothing. I just want a clear head for later.”

Mikey’s eyes narrowed. “Why?”

A faint smiled formed on Penny’s lips. “Mind your own beeswax.”

 

Brent Archer began writing in 2011 at the nudging of his cousins. His first story sold, and he was hooked! Stay tuned for the May 8th release of his first novel, The Bastard’s Key, the first installment of his Golden Scepter series.

Visit his website to keep up on upcoming releases, and follow him on Twitter: @brentarcherwrit.

 

What are your passions?

You already know I have a new sexy shorty out (The Long Road Home) and a new Vampire book coming tomorrow (Sm{B}itten), so I won’t belabor the point that you should be reading or anticipating reading—besides, I’ll be sending out a newsletter tomorrow, talking both of them up!!

Instead, I’d love for you to share your passions. You can talk about them or send me a picture to post here. I’ll check throughout the day for new entries!

My new passion (besides jewelry making and altered art dominoes) is painting. I’m not very good at it. But I don’t care. I get a very warm feeling in my gut when I finish something new. And it’s sooooo portable! I have a mini-watercolor set, a small watercolor notebook—both of which I can cram into a purse, my Blackwing pencils, and off I go—just add water! And when I paint something ugly—like that pear to the right—I do my Zentangle scribbles all over it.

So, you’re turn: What are your passions?

 

From Angel Shaw

Why Sm{B}itten? Isn’t it like naming a boy Sue?

Reminder: Yesterday’s contest is still ongoing. A winner will be chosen tomorrow!

* * * * *

I get that you think the title of Monday’s upcoming release is unpronounceable. I do. And it wasn’t that I couldn’t make up my mind between Smitten and Bitten, even though, in my story, Emmy Harris is both. I didn’t want to choose. I wanted both. Et voilà! Sm{B}itten! Next, you ask, why didn’t I use parentheses around the B? Simple, the squiggly enclosure is prettier! And there you were thinking there might be something deep or magical about why I entitled my book something so strange (you didn’t? I’m disappointed!). One thing’s for certain, you won’t forget it, right? Well, if you want to say my title out loud, you’re welcome to call it what I do: Smuh-bitten. 

At any rate, the book comes out on Monday. Not long now, and I’d like to give you a peek inside. Have you pre-ordered your copy?

True love bites!

Emmy Harris knows she’s not perfect. She has a little extra padding and isn’t the brightest bulb, but you’d think she was a sexy rock star the way everyone at a certain night club treats her from the moment she walks through the door. In fact, the two sexiest men there can’t seem to keep their hands off her, until one of them sweeps her away to his private domain. A girl like her isn’t going to waste a chance like that! So he’s a little rough and likes to take a nibble or two while he pleasures her. For a girl who didn’t know she’d never experienced a full-blown orgasm before, Dylan’s eccentricities are delicious!

Dylan O’Hara only wants a night of passion to slake his lusts, but finds Emmy is a full-bodied, red-blooded siren whose innocence and humor draw this Master vampire like a moth to a red-hot flame. When Emmy attracts the attention of a serial-killing vampire, Dylan vows to protect her, but he fears he’ll lose Emmy once she discovers he’s not quite human…

Buy at Amazon | Barnes & Noble | More venues are coming Monday!

Excerpt:

Be warned. Emmy Harris doesn’t think like most romance heroines. You’ll get a glimpse of her funny little mind here…

At his urging, Emmy couldn’t hold back another second. She dug her fingers harder into his hair and pulled. “Come with me,” she said, her voice tight. And then she whimpered. The experience was too much. He was too much—Mr. Stamina. Too hard and lean and beautiful. His lovemaking was astounding and—something she never thought she’d admit—too strenuous. She panted like she’d run laps, something she’d never ever do.

He shook his head and continued the deep thrusts that pounded against the gate of her womb. Buried to the hilt, he ground his pubic hair against her clitoris until she was so sensitive to the scrape, she thought she might come out of her skin. And she was right effing there, could feel the tension wind tighter in her core.

But she wanted him with her. This one last time, she needed the whole enchilada. “Baby…bite me.”

He stopped. His arms grew rigid and his nostrils flared. “Don’t move,” he said, his voice holding a note of desperation.

“I want you, Dylan. All of you.”

“Dammit! Emmy, do you even know what you’re asking?”

“For you to trust me to be strong?” She lifted her hands to his cheeks. “Do you think I haven’t seen your other face?”

His entire body shuddered, and he closed his eyes. “Then watch,” he whispered.

Breathless with curiosity and a tinge of fear, she held still beneath him. His eyes opened—not the dark orbs she knew were green—but glowing circles that reflected the waning moonlight, like an animal’s. The better to see me.

His cheekbones lifted, popping and cracking as his face reassembled into the monster mask, his skin stretched tight around it. His lips curved above teeth that slid over his human set, long and razor sharp, the longest at the four corners of his smile. The better to eat me.

The most miraculous part of the transformation was the muscle that grew rigid and strained beneath his skin, stretching him outward, turning the arms that held her knees to stone. And his cock was one of those things hardening and enlarging, pushing deeper without a flex of his hips. The better to fuck me.

A low growl rattled in his throat, and for a moment, Emmy had doubts she was really ready for this. Something was wild and primal about that growl. But then his tongue, longer, rougher, swiped along her throat. Her skin grew numb. She relaxed. He’d considered her comfort—part of the man was still inside the monster. Angling her head to the side, she held her breath.

His teeth sank slowly into her neck, burning at first, then he drew, sucking her blood, and pure sensual heat spread from her neck, moving downward and tightening her breasts and belly.

His enlarged cock pushed inside her, pulled out, and pushed again. His thrusts were so powerful her buttocks left the bed with each stroke. Still, he kept a steady rhythm that soon had her wishing he’d move faster, harder, rougher. And she told him so.

He growled in response—the Big Bad Wolf buried between her legs, and she reveled in the power to make him lose control and be the beast for her.

That she could inspire the beast in any man was a revelation.

A New Shorty, Contest, and a Question… (Contest)

Thanks for your help earlier this week with deciding which cover we should use for the Viking book. The authors had too many opinions, and I thought, why not ask readers? You tend to make more instinctual choices than we do, because we way overthink.

So it’s Friday….! Yup. New shorty. This one was in Penthouse magazine! If you look at the Penthouse cover below, it’s the “Raunchy Road Trip.” Such a proud moment. And the story has some naughty, light S&M. Remember, it’s free to KU readers and just $0.99 for everyone else. I hope you’ll pick it up. Click on the cover to check it out on Amazon!

The Long Ride Home

 

Ride along with two soldiers, just returned from war, who find sweet release in the long ride home…

Note: This book was previously published in Penthouse Magazine and the Duty and Desire anthology, but has been revised and expanded.

*~*~*~*~*

Excerpt:Glancing toward Sergeant Maddox, I noted the hard edge of his jaw, the hand wrapped so tight around the steering wheel that the muscles in his forearm tensed. I didn’t have to crawl inside his head to know he didn’t want me there. So why had he told me to get in?Was he attracted, too, but reluctant to act on it because he was still my superior? Like I’d ever tell a soul. He should have known me better than that. We’d been through hell together, and yet I’d never presumed on the bond, never asked for favors.Did he want me to make the first move so he’d know my expectations, know just how far I wanted this to go? I smiled at the thought of all the fantasies I’d stored up over the months. And I was finally here–alone with a man who was still feeling edgy and angry.Maybe I could help him out a bit. And maybe, he’d see me as more than a fellow soldier who’d shared the bench seat of a deuce-and-a-half truck a time or two. One I’d been driving when he’d had to talk me through a hail of gunfire as our transport convoy had come under attack.I unbuckled my belt, ignoring his deep frown. I turned in the seat and reached for the buttons of his jacket, flicking them open then parting each side.He didn’t say a thing, but his nostrils flared, his jaw sawed tighter.I gripped the front of his t-shirt, bunched it in my hand, and tugged it from his ACU trousers.His stomach jumped, and he sucked it in, making just enough room for me to get my fingers behind the waistband as I unbuckled, unbuttoned and tugged down the zip.

“Dammit, Hollister,” he said, his voice rough as gravel. “You’re gonna get us both killed.”

“Not if you keep your eyes on the road,” I said, tilting up my chin. Then I leaned over his lap, folded down the elastic band of his boxer briefs and pulled his cock upright.

*~*~*~*~*

The Contest

Leave an answer to the following question in the comments and you’ll be entered to win a copy of any of the shorties in the Amazon carousel below EXCEPT The Long Ride Home. That one, I hope you’ll purchase on your own!

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If you wrote a naughty story for Penthouse ,

which friend or relative could you never tell?