Delilah Devlin's Blog, page 418

4 Days to ONCE IS NEVER ENOUGH! (Contest)

UPDATE: The winner (chosen by a random number generator) is…bn100!

Congrats, bn! I’ll be in touch shortly to arrange delivery of your prize!

* * * * *

Next Tuesday, the last of my Delta Heat books releases! Yes, I know—there are some of you out there who will be very sad to see the last of my merry band of Memphis PD cops. I had fun writing the five stories in this trilogy, but all good things must come to an end. But don’t you worry. You will very likely be seeing these same characters floating through a new series of stories I’ll be writing about a Memphis firehouse, so don’t cry too hard.

Now, if you’ve missed the prequel books to Once is Never Enough, there’s no time like now to catch the heck up. Over the next few days, I’ll be spotlighting scenes from the prequels and offering chances for folks to win a free book—nope, not Once! And if you’ve already read all the prequel books, I’m sure there’s a downloadable book somewhere on my backlist you might enjoy. So y’all come play!

Post a comment today, and you’ll be in the running

to win a free download of Five Ways ‘Til Sunday !

“FIVE WAYS ‘TIL SUNDAY was an awesome read…”

4.5 Stars, Night Owl Reviews

“Delightfully quick read, you are so consumed in the story it is difficult to put it down…”

Sensual Reads

Sometimes a man’s just gotta call for backup…

Marti Kowalski is all wrong for Officer Jackson Teague—he just won’t listen to reason. She didn’t finish high school, runs a bar. Has a tattoo and a blue streak in her hair. Yet he still wants to marry her? She can’t say she’s not tempted, but she’s got a bucket list to complete before she ties the knot.

Not just any bucket—more like a fifty-five-gallon drum of sexual wishes so explicit, there’s no way one man, even Jackson, can fulfill them all.

When Marti turns him down again, Jackson doesn’t give up, he insists on knowing why. That’s when she shows him her list. He takes it, thinks about it—and calls on the only men he can trust: four buddies from his academy graduating class.

Between the five of them, he’s sure they can come up with a plan to check off every item on her list in one wild, wicked weekend. That is, if she has the nerve to follow through—and if he can bear to share her.

Warning: Five men on a mission to break down the resistance of one determined woman. Author suggest readers keep their significant others on speed dial. Not responsible for accidental 911 calls.

Marti Kowalski waved a hand blindly behind her at her desk, swiping the inventory sheets she’d slaved over for the past two days and her telephone to the floor. She didn’t care about the mess—or by the crunch—the loss of her phone. Right this moment, she had Jackson where she wanted him—too far gone with want to worry what damage he might cause.

That his body was hard and his expression carved to a lustful edge, promised the kind of sexy interlude she preferred—something spontaneous and surprising.

Even after all the months they’d been seeing each other, he managed to surprise her. Like now. He’d pulled her from the door of the ladies restroom and goose-stepped her with her arm bent behind her back to the manager’s office, growling menacingly into her ear about the wicked things he’d do to her.

Ma’am, keep quiet and I won’t hurt you.

She’d shivered at the menace in his voice, but he’d rubbed her hip gently to remind her this was just a game.

She had to hand it to him. He knew what made her hot.

Jackson bent her over her desk and shoved up her blouse. His head ducked to pluck a nipple with his lips, and then he bit it.

“I wasn’t expecting you,” she gasped, her fingers digging into the rigid Kevlar armor he wore beneath his dark shirt. “You’re on duty. Thought you didn’t cross that line when you’re wearin’ the uniform.”

His head reared back. His dark eyes flashed. “Shut up, ma’am. You draw any attention, and I might have to get rough.”

So he was still playing the role. She widened her eyes. “Please, sir, I’ll do anything.” She tried to infuse a little angst into her voice, but inside she was laughing uproariously.

A glint of humor in his gaze might have just been the reflection of the overhead light because it quickly extinguished. He bared his teeth. A hand snuck between her thighs. A finger tucked beneath one side of the crotch of her panties and tugged. Elastic stretched and gave. His palm crammed against her bare pussy.

There was no hiding how turned on she was. Not when cream smeared his hand.

“Fuck, you’re hot.” He drew back, gripped her by the waist and gave her a little shake—just to remind her who was in charge here.

Her head bobbed backward. Her heart skittered at the strength in those large, hard hands. He could so easily hurt her, but was careful to give her just the right kind of pain.

Nostrils flaring, he did a good impression of a criminal intent on doing her bodily harm. She guessed he saw enough of them in his line of work to mimic the look.

He leaned in and whispered in her ear, “Sure this is the way you wanna play it?”

“Baby, don’t stop now,” Marti moaned.

His grunt accompanied the tightening of his hands on the corners of her hips. He gave no warning and whirled her around, then pushed gently on the back of her neck until she folded over her desk.

Her short leather skirt lifted. Hands gripped her cheeks and squeezed. His mouth pressed against her skin.

She huffed. “What kind of a rapist are you?”

“One with an ass fetish.”

She giggled and reached back to push him away, wriggling on the desk like she wanted to escape. “Stop,” she whispered huskily. “Stop or you’ll be sorry. My boyfriend’s a Memphis PD cop.”

Another grunt was his only response. He straightened, his hard body rubbing against the back of her thighs and ass. An arm clamped over her lower back, holding her down. A zipper scraped. His cock nudged against her folds, thick, insistent—lord, Jackson was completely into this naughty game. He found her entrance and drove deep inside in a single, merciless thrust.

Her body arched off the desk. “Oh shit!”

“Did I hurt you?” he muttered, deeply embedded, but unmoving.

Didn’t he know how to play this game? “You’re gonna pay, you bastard,” she said with an edge of a sob in her voice, but she wiggled her butt to let him know it was okay to proceed.

He withdrew slowly then stroked deep again. This time his hands slammed the wood on either side of her shoulders. “Stick it up higher, slut,” he growled. “My balls are bangin’ the desk.”

Slut? He’d never called her that before. She held back a chuckle, hoping the playacting wouldn’t end too soon. Jackson could only keep his focus up to a certain point. Not that she’d truly mind it when he dropped the act. Knowing she was the reason he couldn’t stay in control gave her deep satisfaction. She rose on tip-toe and tilted up her ass.

His cock crowded through juicy, engorged walls, filling her up like no man ever had before. Maybe he really was that big, or maybe she’d never been so excited. Jackson was the best lover she’d ever had—the most adventurous with the most stamina. That his body was ripped like a bodybuilder’s only added to his dangerous appeal.

She gave a short, throaty groan. “Ohmygod, that feels incredible.”

Sharon Hamilton: The Power of Transformative Love

I think I always knew I’d be a romance writer. I can remember thinking about it when I went to bed at night. For several years in my early teens I’d think up stories about dark prince heroes who were misunderstood by society, but who would and could be healed through the power of my love. I dreamt about being kidnapped in a coach as I was taken to my palace, held for ransom and then falling in love with my captor, and never wanting to leave him. I saw the face of a dark-haired man in my dreams, like it would become my future. And in a way, it did.

I don’t know if this is what every young girl dreams about, but I did. I was drawn by the power of love and how it made people become better people, how it transformed everyday existence into something miraculous.

Stories such as Beauty And The Beast and Phantom are filled with a similar sister fantasy. The power of love takes a hulking power dark individual and reveals in them their true higher self, the beauty of that special part of them that allows love to warm their doorway. Gives them the courage to act with integrity, to do the right thing in the end. The Beast allows Belle to go, and she decides she loves the strange creature who will sacrifice his own future to assure her of one. The Phantom, driven by his obsession with Christine, finds it in himself to free her when she confesses her true love for him.

In my Navy SEAL stories, I try to portray an elite warrior, trained to the highest of combat readiness, one of a handful who can pass the tests physically and mentally, who are driven to do what they do for the love of their country, the men they serve with, and the innocents they strive to protect. They are driven to do the right thing, even when it costs them their lives. Because they have that ethos, that love of life and the bond of brotherhood, anything is possible. The highest calling to them is that juice of life that makes them want to be the best of the best.

We get criticized often for our simplistic stories of love and the Happily Ever After we write. Almost like there is something more noble about writing “the way it is,” instead of writing about the fantasy of what could be. As romance readers, I know you would disagree with that. You’d probably smile and feel sorry for the person who said such folly.

But no one can dispute the facts that over 50% of all the books that are sold are romance novels. And far from being a fad, the trend is spreading throughout the globe. What a fantastic time to be a romance writer.

What about you? Do you believe in the transformative power of true love?

Sharon Hamilton

Life is one fool thing after another.

Love is two fool things after each other.

Author Page ** Sharon’s Blog ** Sharon’s Website ** Facebook**Twitter

Sharon’s Newsletter

Nancy Corrigan: Ten Unique Things About Small Towns

My Royal Pride series is based in a small farming community in Pennsylvania. There are several factors that made me pick this setting for my books, but the main reason is that I love small towns. It’s much different living in one versus a city. I’ve lived in both and here are the top ten differences I’ve noticed.

In a small town…

There’s often only one diner, one drugstore and one fancy restaurant. (Fancy is defined as having a menu, whether it’s a paper or a laminated one.)
There are multiple bars, sometimes one on every street.
When you walk into any business, people welcome you be name.
Dating your best friend’s ex-girlfriend is common and acceptable. So is running into multiple exes in any given day.
The best person to ask for gossip is usually the mailman.
Discussions on everything from world peace to the local chili contest can be had at the local diner.
You don’t have to worry about getting locked out of your house. It’s rarely locked and if for some reason it is, your neighbor has a key.
People will notice a change in your routine immediately and question you about it.
If you get in trouble, everyone will find out and never let you forget it.
And finally…when you need help, there’s always somebody there to give it to you.

Favorite Obsession

Nancy Corrigan

Book 3, Royal Pride

Centuries after what should have been a blessing from a goddess, Mira has gone from the chosen daughter to a woman shamed. She’s found a tentative peace among her family and the females they’ve chosen to mate. And despite the potentially fatal consequences, Mira has found the one thing she never thought she’d have—love. Josh is the only male she’s ever wanted, desired and burned for, and he’s the only man she can never hope to keep.

One glance into Mira’s exotic feline eyes and Josh is lost. She’s everything he never knew he wanted and loving her becomes a passion he can’t deny. The obstacles keeping them apart seem insurmountable, but Josh knows he’s the man Mira needs. With every passionate encounter, every stolen touch, his certainty that he and Mira belong together grows. He’ll defy every shifter decree and fight to his dying breath to convince those around them of the truth—Mira belongs to him, mind, body and soul.

A Romantica® Paranormal erotic romance from Ellora’s Cave

Forbidden love…Undeniable passion.

Author Bio

Nancy Corrigan believes in unending love and epic tales with a paranormal flare. She enjoys transcending the boundaries of reality to take her readers on an erotic, emotional and romantic journey.

She resides in Pennsylvania with her husband and three children. When she’s not weaving sizzling fantasies, she works as a chemist in a pharmaceutical lab.

Purchase Links:

Amazon

Kobo

Publisher

ARe

B&N

Social Media links:

Website

Facebook

Twitter

Pinterest

Goodreads

Youtube trailer

Meg Benjamin: The Recycled Character

Chico Burnside is one of the two heroes in my new release from Samhain, Hungry Heart. It’s my eighth novel set in Konigsburg, Texas, and Chico has shown up (or at least been mentioned) in five of the eight. He was always a secondary character, the bouncer at the Faro tavern, best friend of one of my heroes (Tom Ames in Brand New Me), part-time employer of one of my heroines (MG Carmody in Fearless Love) and all-around stand-up guy.

But I always wanted to do something else with Chico. He had so many possibilities. He was a Very Big Guy, to begin with, a type I’m partial to. He had a dry sense of humor, and he knew when to use his slightly terrifying presence for maximum effect. The more I played around with Chico as secondary character, the more I knew I wanted him to have his own book and his own heroine. But it took me a while to figure out who that heroine would be.

Readers made a few suggestions, but they were always along the line of the woman Chico dated in Brand New Me—tough girls who’d been around who seemed to be the type to show up with somebody like Chico, or somebody like the man Chico had seemed to be in the other books. But I knew there was more to him than that. And I wanted to give him a Significant Other who’d shake things up a bit.

Enter Andy Wells.

Andy is another recycled character since she showed up briefly in Long Time Gone. Andy’s an administrator with the Texas Department of Environmental Quality. I enjoyed the idea of a shy scientist and a bouncer, particularly a bouncer who had a lot of hidden talents and a large, curious family. Nobody in Konigsburg expects these two to be together, but they are. Andy has a little trouble dealing with that, but Chico knows he’s struck gold.

I loved dealing with Chico again, and I loved giving him someone who really appreciates him, which Andy definitely does. In fact, she becomes the only woman in history to refer to him as Hon, a fact that seals her status as his One True Love.

Here’s a bit of their first real date:

“We’re here,” she said.

He looked up. His truck was parked at the curb. Her porch light gleamed in the darkness. A couple dozen steps, and she’d be home. He pushed the front gate open, then followed her through.

Okay, you’ve got this. No problem. Except, of course, that he didn’t. He hadn’t felt this awkward since middle school.

She turned on the top step, looking down at him, or as down as she could look when they were basically nose to nose. “This is where I say I had a great time and thank you. Which is true. I did have a great time. And I do thank you. But it still sounds sort of weird to me.”

He frowned. “Why weird?”

She gave him a slightly rueful smile. “Because it’s such a routine thing to say. I feel like I should come up with something better.”

He shook his head. “I’ll take it.” His right hand moved to the back of her neck, almost without his thinking about it, and he drew her lips down to his.

Random thoughts drifted through his mind. She was so soft, so warm. How long had it been since he’d touched a woman like this? Kissed a woman when it wasn’t just a prelude to something else, when kissing was the main event?

He moved his hand up to the back of her head, let his fingers slide into her hair, trace the shape of her skull. He changed the angle of the kiss, brought his tongue to her mouth and tasted her.

Honey. Sweetness. A hint of fragrance. Gracious Lord above.

And here’s the blurb for Hungry Heart:

Peace, love, and barbecue—with a big order of sexy on the side.

Konigsburg, Texas, Book 8

Sous chef Darcy Cunningham is less than entranced with small-town Konigsburg’s obsession with barbecue. But her future career as a chef de cuisine requires expanding her culinary horizons, so she talks the Barbecue King, a.k.a. Harris Temple, into taking her on as his apprentice.

However, learning Harris’s professional secrets wasn’t supposed to include falling for his spicy blend of smoky sexiness and laid-back charm.

Chico Burnside specializes in flying under Konigsburg’s small-town radar, but lately life has been going a little too smoothly, even for him. Hoping to shake things up a bit, he talks Harris into teaming up for Konigsburg’s first barbecue cook-off. But once shy scientist Andy Wells catches his eye, Chico’s got more on his mind than brisket. Like enticing her out of her shell to show her just how tenderly a big guy can love.

As the competition ignites, so does the romance. Until a natural disaster threatens to derail Konigsburg’s dream team before the grills even get good and warmed up.

Warning: Contains hot sauce, hot sex, and a whole lot of smokin’ action.

Samhain Store | Amazon | Barnes and Noble

Cora Seton: What makes a cowboy so irresistible? (Free Book)

I’ve thought a lot about that as I’ve written my Cowboys of Chance Creek novels. First and foremost, I think it’s his pride in his work. We all know a lazy cowboy won’t remain a cowboy for long. Ranch work requires long hours and backbreaking labor in all kinds of weather. A cowboy can’t be a wimp and he can’t be a slacker, either. And a hardworking, honest man never goes out of style.

A cowboy’s rugged individualism adds to his draw. He can work with a crew to bring in the cattle or build a barn, but he’ll never be dictated to and he’ll never back down from his principles. A man with a mind of his own will always be sexy.

All that hard work develops muscles, and let’s face it—we love muscles. Cowboys don’t get those puffed up steroid-induced he-man muscles, either. They get the real deal: long, lean, rock-hard biceps that can help lift a hay bale or fix a fence, or pick you up and carry you to bed.

Last but not least, let’s not forget his sense of humor. It’s quiet, it’s dry, and it’s lurking when and where you least expect it. Getting a smile out of a cowboy is enough to set your heart a-flutter. But getting a full-on laugh out of one brings joy you can hold onto for a rainy day.

I love cowboys and I love writing about them. I hope you’ll enjoy reading about them just as much. Check out my Cowboys of Chance Creek series which starts with The Cowboy’s E-Mail Order Bride (Free!) and ends with my latest release—The Cowboy Rescues a Bride. Check out my follow-on series, The Heroes of Chance Creek, which begins with The Navy SEAL’s E-Mail Order Bride (available now in the SEALs of Summer Box set and available on May 20 as a stand-alone novel).

 

Joy Daniels: Inspiration from Music City, USA

I love country music. Love the sounds, the stars and the lyrics. In the car I can resist turning up the volume and belting out the words at the top of my lungs. (One of the things that I love about it is that I can actually understand the lyrics and I’m not totally embarrassed to sing them in front of my kids.) It’s a newfound love for me – growing up in New York City, you don’t hear much country. But since I move to Maryland, the northern tip of the South eight years ago, I’ve become a big fan. (I’ve also gotten into NASCAR, but that’s another story. Literally –I wrote about NASCAR in my debut release Revving Her Up :)).

Why do I love country music so much? It’s about real life. Situations that we all face. Problems and triumphs everyone can relate to. So many times I’ve found myself nodding while listening to a song on the radio. I know what that feels like. That’s happened to me. I enjoy listening other kinds of music – alternative rock is my fave for dancing around the living room – but no styles speaks to my life the way country does. And I can’t count the times that I have listened to a country song and thought I could write a story about that.

And I have! My latest release Nashville Trio, A Music City Ménage follows the passions of Ashley Ford, Rob Porter, and Ty Monroe through the highs and lows of love and passion in Music City, USA. Nashville Trio combines both friends-to-lovers and second-chance storylines into a romantic and sexy m/m/f novel, which I had a blast writing.

Nashville Trio was inspired by my overall love of country music, as well as some of its greatest recent hits. More than any other story I’ve written to date, Nashville Trio had a very definite soundtrack that kept me pumped from the first page to the last. (And if Rob Porter reminds anyone of a certain New Zealand/Australian country crooner and part-time American Idol host, that’s not a coincidence). Here’s a list of some of the songs and stars that helped me bring Nashville Trio to life:

Country Girl (Shake It For Me) – Luke Bryan
Famous in a Small Town – Miranda Lambert
A Modern Day Prodigal Son – Brantley Gilbert
Boondocks – Little Big Town
The Good Stuff – Kenny Chesney
You Gonna Fly – Keith Urban
I Hold On – Dierks Bentley
Whatever It IS – Zac Brown Band
Stuck Like Glue – Sugarland
Come Back Song – Darius Rucker
Redneck Woman – Gretchen Wilson

Country music fans will recognize those names and probably most of the songs too. If you’re not familiar with country music, but want to learn, this is a great list to start with.

Here’s more about the novel inspired by those songs, Nashville Trio, A Music City Ménage, available now at most online e-book sellers:

Music City, USA.

After years of hard work country music duo Sweet Talk is on the verge of success. Singer Ashley Ford swore off the romantic entanglements that cost her mother her musical career, but her playing has fallen flat. She needs a spark.

Where inspirations strikes

Co-singer Rob usually find his pleasure with men, but when Ashley runs back to the arms of her ex lover Ty, he realizes that he’s no longer content being only a friend.

A tangled trio

Pride kept Ty from pursing Ashley to Nashville. When Ashley returns to his bed, Ty vows not to give her up again, even if it means sharing her with a man he finds aggravating – and surprisingly attractive.

When secrets and ambition seem poised to destroy her chance to be a star, Ashley must decide if she’s willing to risk it all for a Nashville Trio.

Thank you Delilah for letting me share my crazy country passion and my new release!

Now let’s hear from y’all – love country or hate it? Who are your fave singers? What songs make you crank the volume and sing? Time to confess!

About the Author:

Joy Daniels writes romance that’s Smart, Sexy and Down-to-Earth. She loves erotic romance because it allows her to expose her characters completely – strengths, flaws and scars. She’s originally from New York City, (and still a loyal Yankees fan!), but since moving south, she’s developed passions for NASCAR and country music. Both feature in her recent stories. In addition to writing (and reading!) she enjoys yoga, belly dancing, and growing veggies in the Washington, D.C. area with her scientist husband and two curious kids. She loves to hear from readers so drop her a note at authorjoydaniels@gmail.com, stop bywww.authorjoydaniels, or find her on Facebook at https://www.facebook.com/joy.daniels.author.

A Question…

First, thanks to everyone who purchased Her Only Desire. I hope you’re busy reading it, and when you’re done, I hope you’ll leave a review or tell a friend about it. I’d love to be able to write more books in that series, but it really depends on you! If you love it, you’ll tell someone about it!

I’m busy starting a new project today. I spent yesterday drafting brief descriptions of the stories in a new series. Something to follow the Delta Heat cops books. This series will follow a group of firefighters at one firehouse. More sexy fun, I promise! So, while I craft that opening scene, here’s a question for you…

Of all the simple little pleasures you enjoy in life, which do you enjoy most of all?

I can tell you, my simple pleasure centers around a cup of tea… I love spending time with my daughter’s family. It’s a nearly nightly thing, meeting for a cup of tea, talking about our day, playing with the kids, and maybe watching a movie or surfing Pinterest for fun jewelry or craft ideas. We know life is fleeting, so we do our best to stay closely connected. At the center of it all is that cup of tea. There’s something magical and calming about sharing it.

Ashlyn Chase: Writers Be Crazy (Contest)

Some people may not know that I was an RN in the psychiatric field for many years. I found it fascinating, mostly because we’re still learning so much about the mind, personality, and behavior of human beings. Now toss into the mix a creative brain and you have something really interesting.

Someone once told me, “You don’t think like other people.” She was a fellow writer and didn’t mean it as an insult. She meant it to help me…and it did.

Writer Juliet Bruce, PhD paraphrased creativity researcher Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi best when speaking of creative people. “Instead of being an individual, they are a multitude.

“Like the color white that includes all colors, they tend to bring together the entire range of human possibilities within themselves. Creativity allows for paradox, light, shadow, inconsistency, even chaos – and creative people experience both extremes with equal intensity.”

I think she meant to say the color ‘black’ since white is the absence of color and black is what you get when you mix all colors together. Oh well…I went to Mass College of Art, so you can blame it on them.

Here are a few qualities he lists, as Bruce summarizes and I identify:

A great deal of physical energy alternating with a great need for quiet and rest. (*Check)
Highly sexual, yet often celibate, especially when working. (*Check with husband.)
Smart and naïve at the same time. A mix of wisdom and childishness. Emotional immaturity along with the deepest insights. (*Um…yup. Double check.)
Convergent (rational, left brain, sound judgment) and divergent (intuitive, right brain, visionary) thinking…(*What left brain? The only sound judgment I demonstrate is letting other people take care of the rational stuff.)
Both extroverted and introverted, needing people and solitude equally. (*Check—especially at writers conferences.)
Humble and proud, both painfully self-doubting and wildly self-confident. (*More about this later.)
May defy gender stereotypes, and are likely to have not only the strengths of their own gender but those of the other as well. A kind of psychic androgyny. (*?)

For more, see Bruce’s post “Understanding Creative People” – and Csikszentmihalyi’s classic book Creativity: Flow and the Psychology of Discovery and Invention, plus his article “The Creative Personality: Ten paradoxical traits of the creative personality.”

It’s that intensity (passion) that can get us writers into trouble, in my opinion. Speaking of painful self-doubt…John Lennon had huge issues with self-esteem. Even during the height of Beetle Mania, he thought he was a fraud.

I vacillate wildly, just as mentioned—especially after reading a review. Horrible thoughts go through my mind if a review is a bit negative. Everything from “What’s the matter with that broad? Can’t she recognize my brilliance?” To, “Oh, God. I’ve been found out. I suck. I’m a hack, and now everyone knows it.” For self-preservation, I no longer read consumer reviews. They seem to be the harshest and my assistant would have to talk me off a ledge.

But when I receive a fan letter (okay, these days it’s an email) I realize I’m doing what I was meant to do. I’ve entertained someone. (Yay!) Even so, I have a hard time using the word ‘fan.’ I have readers. When someone calls themselves a fan of my work, I’m flattered and humbled. When they call themselves a fan of me, my mind goes a little numb. No—they can’t mean that. They don’t know me.

Or do they? How much of who we are goes into our books?

Thomas Wolfe said, “Every novel is an autobiography.” (*Gulp.)

Even though I’ve never met a vampire or werewolf, I have the type of creative imagination that makes them very real. They live in my head. They speak to me and all I do is take dictation. (Talk about crazy!) If they are real to me, they become real to my readers—and apparently that is happening. I received an angry letter because my heroine was “selfish” when she let her true love give up his immortality for her.

Something to note is that I had a different ending to that story—one that the reader would have loved. An editor made me change it, and all I can think now is, “Why did I let myself be pushed around like that? I suck.”

Well, dear reader, I apologize! I shall try to be true to myself and my characters in the future. I’ve always thought of myself as a “girly-girl,” but I can fight like a man if I have to. (That must be where androgyny comes in.) If an editor again tries to force me to compromise part of my story that makes sense, I will drag said editor into the middle of Times Square and…

No. I really won’t. But I’ll be more assertive. I promise.

Here’s where a lot of creative writers (including romance authors) are showing their testosterone levels. We’re taking charge. We’re self-publishing our books. And we’re doing it our way.

Many are just dumping their agents and publishers and have decided to handle the business as well as the creative parts of publishing. The big benefit of this is keeping a much higher percentage of the profits. Even among these authors, the smart ones will hire artists and editing professionals to make a good product better—and then keep the rest.

Some authors (like me) are becoming ‘Hybrids.’ We continue to work with professional publishers and agents for some books, but we self-publish other projects on the side. The self-published books are called ‘Indies.’ My first Indie is The Cupcake Coven (release date May 5, 2014.) Here’s a quick promo:

Pretty Wiccan Rebecca Colby borrowed money from her father to start her bakery, and now he’s calling the loan due. When she learns he fell off the gambling wagon and owes big money to some scary people, she has to start making a profit—quickly—and hope the loan shark takes payment plans before anyone has an “accident.”

Hot cowboy Dru Tanner is looking for his missing sister who left Texas to explore their New England Wiccan roots. She’s the only family he has left and losing her is not an option. Dru has to hide the fact that he’s not Wiccan long enough to infiltrate a Portsmouth, NH coven, which is the only lead he has.

Dru needs a job and a place to stay. Rebecca needs cheap help, and he’s willing to work for nothing. Perhaps he can pick her brain about Wicca and she can learn how to run a business from a ranch foreman—if lust doesn’t drive them crazy first.

Log line– *This was written by Dorine Linnen of Romance Junkies, but it’s better than the one I wrote. LOL

“Entertainment abounds when a coven of witches whip up a few spells to help their friend hold onto her bakery while losing her heart.  Can a long distance romance work between a cowboy and a baker if they believe in magic?” 

I hope you’ll give my crazy brain a chance to entertain you.

The Cupcake Coven should be available at all e-tailers (like Amazon and Barnes and Noble.com) for only $2.99.

Print copies cost a little more, but you can have your library get one. Every sale will help me continue this insane path I’m on. I want to thank my blog host Delilah, and thank you for your support and encouragement.

Here’s a picture of a bracelet I made and will give to one commenter on Delilah’s blog! I know she makes beautiful jewelry too, but just like writing, our styles vary.

 

Biography of Ashlyn Chase

Ashlyn Chase describes herself as an Almond Joy bar.  A little nutty, a little flaky, but basically sweet, wanting only to give her readers a satisfying experience.

She holds a degree in behavioral sciences, worked as a psychiatric RN for several years and spent a few more years working for the American Red Cross.  She credits her sense of humor to her former careers since comedy helped preserve whatever was left of her sanity.  She is a multi-published, award-winning author of humorous erotic and paranormal romances, represented by the Seymour Agency.

She lives in beautiful New Hampshire with her true-life hero husband who looks like Hugh Jackman with a salt and pepper dye job, and they’re owned by a spoiled brat cat.

Where there’s fire, there’s Ash

Sign up for my newsletter right from my home page:

www.ashlynchase.com While you’re there check out my news and reviews.

Join my facebook fan page: https://www.facebook.com/AuthorAshlynChase

Chat with me: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/ashlynsnewbestfriends/

…and I tweet as GoddessAsh. https://twitter.com/#!/GoddessAsh

Ask me to sign your ebook at www.authorgraph.com

Amazon Author Page: http://www.amazon.com/Ashlyn-Chase/e/B002BOJ4FK/ref=sr_tc_2_0?qid=1360590343&sr=1-2-ent

Here I am at Barnes and Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/Ashlyn-Chase?csrfToken=geodGFzkRvda1FrJApOPBCffGhh2gw7E&store=allproducts&keyword=Ashlyn+Chase

HER ONLY DESIRE is here! (Contest news!)

It’s here! It’s here! And I can’t wait for you to read it!

The moment Tilly Floret sees the sleek Bentley driving down Main Street, she knows trouble has arrived in her sleepy little town. A mysterious job posting keeps appearing at the diner where she works, and she can’t resist applying. No matter that the entire town of Bayou Vert is whispering about the wealthy, powerful man behind it all and his scandalous return home. The moment his ice-blue eyes meet hers, he ignites an all-consuming desire she never imagined possible, one she can’t deny.

Ex-navy SEAL Boone Benoit never thought he’d set foot in Louisiana again. As soon as Tilly starts her new job in his pleasure club, he senses a kindred soul. One who has carefully guarded secrets of her own-and a simmering hunger for the taboo rites of mastery and submission. The only difference is she doesn’t yet know it. Now as Boone tutors Tilly in the tantalizing world of leather and lace, she will shed her every inhibition and surrender to him, body and soul.

Order Paperback

Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Books-A-Million

Indiebound | The Book Depository

Order Ebook

Kindle | Nook | iBooks

Read an Excerpt

The blurb isn’t one I wrote–and it misses some key points I think will matter to you:

1) The guys in the book are all former SEALs, who followed Boone when he left the navy to establish his spec ops company.

2) The story is set deep in the Louisiana bayou—the perfect setting for a murder, deep dark secrets, and soul-crushing despair.

3) You’ll read the story, and then wonder where the next guy’s Happy-Ever-After is. Promise.

Readers! Read the story, then do me a big, humongous favor—post a review. Somewhere. Anywhere. Amazon’s nice, because they sell the most books and I’d love for readers to find me there. Then there’s Nook, iBooks, etc. Don’t forget Goodreads… Reviews don’t have to be long or even eloquent. Readers want an honest voice telling them their money will be well-spent. And thank you!

Bloggers! If you’d like to host me or talk about my book, just let me know! I’ll show up bearing gifts!

And if you’d like to follow along on a blog tour, there will be gifts along the way, and an Amazon gift certificate at the end. I’d love to see some friendly faces!

5/05   Night Owl Reviews

5/05   Coffee Talk Writers

5/06   Haloangel Reads 

5/06   Kawehi’s Book Blog

5/06   Books And Their Seven Deadly Sins

5/07   Cherry Mischievous

5/07   Dirty Girl Romance

5/08   Mythical Books

5/08   Paranormal Romance and Beyond 

5/08   Scorching Book Reviews

5/09   Binding Addiction

5/10   Book Lovin’ Mamas

5/11   Monlatable Book Reviews

5/11   Snarky Mom Reads…

5/13   For Whom The Books Toll

5/14   Eclipse Reviews

5/15   Karen Swart

5/16   Darkest Cravings

5/17   The Lusty Literate

5/18   deal sharing aunt

Her Only Desire–tomorrow!

Tomorrow, Her Only Desire releases. If you’ve read me and like my sexier stories, then you’re in for a treat. HOD is naughty fun, that just so happens to feature a very wealthy ex-SEAL who lives deep in the south Louisiana bayou and happens to share a penchant for BDSM play with his ex-SEAL buddies when he’s not saving the world. If you don’t already have it pre-ordered, I’ll make it easy. Head here — Amazon | Barnes & Noble | BAM.

Will it help you decide “yes” if you know the next one’s on its way?

 

I’ll share a little excerpt from His Every Fantasy. Forgive any typos or grammatical errors. It hasn’t been fully edited yet. And this is only a tease, because hey, I want you to want these books….

“We started something, back in the room.”

His eyes gleamed in the torchlight. “And I’d be a bastard to let it go any further.”

“Why did you let me kiss you?”

He opened his mouth to say something, but then clamped it closed.

“Didn’t you want me to kiss you?”

His eyelids slid down before he speared her with a dark look. “You’re a virgin, Kara. And you just said your first time should mean something.”

The intensity of his gaze made her nipples tighten. “And you think that my first time with you wouldn’t?”

“I’m not the one for you.”

“Couldn’t you be the one…for now?” She paused, hating the pleading note in her voice.

Again, his Adam’s apple dipped. The arm holding her tensed.

She might have been inexperienced, but she knew what she wanted. And she sensed he wanted her every bit as much. She grasped the hand he still held curled, and slowly peeled open his fingers. He barely breathed as she brought it to her breast.

At first, his fingers laid against her, stiff, unmoving.

Knowing she had to be the aggressor, at least for now, she pointed a finger and dug it into the underside of his jaw, urging his face closer.

Despite the war he fought evident in the tightening of his jaw, he inched forward. His eyes glittering, his face hardening.

But she wasn’t afraid of that fierce look. It only made her hotter…there between her legs where her sex was swelling, moistening.

When only an inch separated their lips, he curved his fingers around her breast, and she pushed against him, filling his palm.

Turning her face, she rubbed her cheek against his, enjoying the scrape of his whiskers. “There’s only one thing Lucio was interested in,” she whispered. “One thing that made me valuable. If my virginity doesn’t exist anymore…”

“Don’t ask me that, baby.”

She didn’t—at least, not with words. Instead, she rubbed her bottom against his lap, against the large hard knot beneath her. Her deepening breaths pushed her breast harder against his fingers.

And finally, he cupped her fully, rubbed his thumb against the turgid peak.

Letting her head fall back, she sighed, surrendering herself—if only he would take everything she offered. “Sergei, I’m not a baby.”

 

She spoke with conviction, her voice sure and steady. Sergei cursed himself for this lust he could barely control. Already, and despite his best intentions, his fingers were working her stiff little peak. His cock thickened, throbbing beneath her squirming ass.

But she was a virgin. The last he’d had was Afya, and he’d been nearly as green as she’d been all those years ago. What Kara wanted from him was wrong in so many ways. She needed comfort, to know she was safe. From Las Omegas, from him.

But her eyelids were dipping dreamily with every tug he gave her nipple. Her warm body was nestled against him, soft and wanting. Thawing the hard, cold places inside him. “This Lucio isn’t likely to let you go simply because you’ve lost your hymen. Men like that don’t let go. Ever.”

“All the more reason why I need you, Sergei,” she said, her voice tighter, her finger tracing the back of his neck. “Give me something beautiful. Something Lucio can never give me.”

His whole body tightened in rejection at the thought of another man taking her. “He’s not coming anywhere near you. He’ll never have you.”

“Please.” She slid her palm along his cheek, her finger rubbing his bottom lip. “Please,” she repeated softly.

Her pleas caused a pang inside his chest. Her soft, slender body was beginning to move restlessly. A signal his own horny libido found difficult to ignore.

Well, there were ways to distract her from her purpose. Pleasurable ones that would give her release and help her relax. Ways that wouldn’t leave him feeling empty and like he’d failed to keep her safe. He leaned over her and kissed her mouth, groaning because he knew he’d be in blue-ball hell for what he was about to do.

When he pulled away, he saw her breaths were shorter; her eyes were darkened with passion. Her mouth was swollen—and so lushly tempting, he wished he could take it the way he was dying to, but fuck, he she was a virgin. Still, his cock jerked at the thought of her plump lips closing around him.

Her gray eyes were like little mirrors reflecting his desire. She stared back, her arm around him, her body pressing on his cock which was getting fidgety beneath her bottom. Something she didn’t miss, because she slowly rubbed against him.

He placed a hand on her thigh and gave it a squeeze, a warning to stop, but she only smiled. The temptation was there, her willingness shining in her eyes. Slowly, he moved his hand down her leg and then swept upward, smoothing up a petal of her flame-colored dress.

Kara’s fingers bit into his shoulder and she parted her thighs, giving him permission to continue. Her inner thigh was soft and smooth. Her pussy was hot as he cupped it, his fingers spreading, two on either side of her satin-cloaked lips, one dipping in between to finger her opening. Saved from intruding by the fabric of her underwear, he applied pressure, waiting as the narrow seam grew wet, soaking his fingertip.

Her lips parted, a ragged moan seeping from between her pursed lips. She inched her thighs wider and leaned against his arm, her breasts rising and dipping faster with each shallow breath.

He poked at the fabric, rimming her entrance, circling around and around, and then moved upward to find her clit. The tight nub was rigid to the touch and her breath hissed when he tapped it. When he paused, preparing to withdraw, she reached between her legs and pressed against his hand. “Touch me. Please.”

Damning himself for being weak, he slid his fingers under the band of her underwear and touched her sex directly. Moist, fragrant heat surrounded his fingertips as he slid between her folds, tracing them up and down.

Again, her lips pursed and she ground down on his cock, her bottom squirming so deliciously he gritted his teeth against the sensations rocketing through him. He’d love nothing more than to ease open his pants and slide her onto his cock, but he was in control here—the one tasked with keeping her safe. However, her shallow pants and gently rocking hips were doing a number on his good intentions.

Sergei continued to fondle her while he wrestled with his conscience. He tugged her lips, rimmed her opening, but never penetrated, mindful of her inexperience. But he was loathe to leave her without providing a hint of the pleasure he could give. Wetting a finger in the well of her wet pussy, he transferred the moisture to her clit and gently rubbed it. He knew his finger was slightly callused, and by her sharp breathy gusts, she was sensitive, so he returned again and again for more lubricant, careful to keep her tiny bud wet while he swirled.

Her eyelids dropped to half-mast, a thin sheen of sweat sprouted on her forehead and upper lip. Her teeth bit into her lower lip, and she sucked it inside as her body grew more and more tense. One thigh pressed hard against his torso while the other widened.

Her skirt inched higher and higher, until it swathed her hips and he was looking down at her sex, his fingers disappearing beneath a scrap of red satin. She was soaked, so was his hand, but he couldn’t stop, not until he’d given her what he could, without betraying his unspoken vow.

When he heard a tight moan seep from between her lips, he leaned to whisper in her ear, “Let go, now, baby. Come for me. I’ve got you.”

Her head dropped back, and she arched.

He held her against him, while he circled faster, pressed a little harder against the hard nub. At last, she came, her eyes rolling up, her mouth opening, her thighs tensing, then at last, relaxing while she hung inside his embrace, limp and replete.

Sergei had never seen anything so beautiful. Her abandonment sent a wash of possessive heat throughout his body. His cock was unbearably tight, his balls hard as stones. But he gathered her up against his chest and held her close until she began to stir.

Her eyes blinked open, and she stared upward, a frown drawing together her brows as her focus narrowed.

“You’re welcome,” he drawled.

Her eyebrows lowered. “You think you did me a favor?”

“No, I gave you a gift.”

“It’s not what I wanted.”

“And yet you’ve drenched my legs.”

“Huh.” She pushed against his chest, then slid her legs to the side, standing. She wobbled for a second, but batted away the hand he extended to steady her. “That wasn’t what I wanted at all.”

Maybe it was because he was hard as a post, but hearing her, irritation flooded him. “You’re a virg—”

Kara pressed a hand over his mouth and bent toward his face. “Don’t repeat that. I know very well you have no interest in fucking a virgin. That you just did this poor little virgin a huge freaking favor.”

Sergei grabbed her wrist and pulled her hand from his mouth. “I’m protecting you,” he gritted out.

She bent closer until her face was level with his. “I don’t need your damn protection.” Her chest was billowing around her angry breaths, but her face suddenly fell. “Don’t you want me?”

That dejected look was more than he could take. He cursed under his breath, and reached for her, bringing her body between his open thighs while his arms encircled her. Again, she perched on a thigh, and he kissed her, hard, while he dragged her hand and cupped it against his straining cock. “Does this feel like I don’t want you?”