Delilah Devlin's Blog, page 422
April 4, 2014
Erin Nicholas: Up By Five (Contest)
I have been fascinated with the influence of birth order on personality for a long time. Probably ever since I met my husband. J
I’m the oldest of two girls. My husband is the youngest of seven—and six of those seven are boys, with his sister being the oldest.
I’m a decision maker. I’m even what some people (my first grade teacher for instance) might call bossy.
My husband… isn’t. He goes with the flow. The first three Thanksgivings we had with his family, I offered to bring something. Something good to impress them right? Something real. But my husband was in charge of asking his sister what we should bring.
Dinner rolls. Brown and serve.
Yep. That’s what we brought. Because my husband just went along with whatever they said and his sister would never dream of having the baby actually do something.
New to the family I went along with it. For awhile.
But we’ve been together almost twenty years now. We no longer bring dinner rolls.
And my husband is no longer in charge of making family plans.
I love writing about families. There’s just so much built in drama and emotion J Family always plays a role in my characters’ lives—for better or worse—but I’ve written a new series where the family is the core, driving force behind many of the attitudes and conflicts in the books.
Specifically, a group of siblings. A boy and four girls. An older brother with four younger sisters.
Yep. FOUR. YOUNGER. SISTERS.
If you’re thinking “poor guy”… you’re right. Conner Dixon has been tortured for four books by having to watch his sisters—who are more than just younger siblings, he’s raised these girls since their father died—fall in love. And not just in love… in love with four of Conner’s best friends.
Yeah, poor guy.
Well, now it’s his turn. And it was absolutely as entertaining to write his love story as I thought it would be.
As I’m finishing this series up, I have to admit that the sibling bond was even stronger and more a part of the books than I’d expected. Sometimes you can’t plan this stuff. And when it happens naturally, it’s even more fun.
The birth order of the Dixon siblings is, oldest to youngest (and this is not the exact order of their booksJ)
Conner: the protective big brother
Amanda: the oldest girl who tries to take care of her little sisters and protect her big brother
Emma: the wild child. The one who tests all the boundaries.
Isabelle: the side-kick. She’s right there with Emma getting into trouble and raising hell, but Emma’s the instigator. Usually.
Olivia: the baby of the family. The sweet one. The optimist. The one who wants everyone to be happy.
Conner took this quiz and turned out as a typical first born. How about you? 
You can get to know Conner and his four feisty, fun sisters in the Counting in Love series!
She’s the One- Amanda Dixon
It Takes Two- Isabelle Dixon
Best of Three- Emma Dixon
Going for Four- Olivia Dixon
Up By Five- Conner Dixon
Up By Five
Releasing: April 8th, 2014
He’s in the middle of the last thing he wanted… and the best thing to ever happen.
Ace paramedic Conner Dixon has sworn to never live with another woman after raising his four younger sisters. They have been giving him gray hair since they lost their father fifteen years ago. Now they’re all in love and Conner’s ready to retire—from worrying, fixing problems and cleaning up messes.
Of course, when his fellow paramedic, Gabrielle Evans, needs a place to stay after her apartment burns down, Conner can’t say no. But it’s no problem—Gabby’s just one of the guys.
Gabby’s penchant for poker and her ability to overhaul a transmission definitely make her different from Conner’s usual women. She also has no interest in getting involved with him. Conner’s crazy mix of family and friends is the last thing Gabby needs right now. She has her sights set on medical school in the fall and knows success depends on focus and commitment.
But within forty-eight hours of moving in, Gabby’s in the middle of a family crisis that could disprove all her I-don’t-need-anyone bluster and Conner’s in the middle of the last thing he wanted—a girl and all her stuff, all over his stuff. Still, the more she makes herself at home, the more he thinks that’s maybe exactly where her stuff should be. For good.
Warning: Contains a girl who thinks she wants to be just one of the guys, a guy who happily proves why that won’t work, and a very good reason to buy cinnamon roll icing-you know, other than for use on cinnamon rolls.
Tour Schedule:
4/1 I am, Indeed
Redheads Review it Better
4/2 Rage, Sex and Teddy Bears
4/4 Riverina Romantics
Delilah Devlin
4/7 S.J. Maylee
All I Want and More
4/9 Housewife Blues and Chihuahua Stories
All Things Romance
The Book Pushers
4/11 A Book Lovers Review
Ex Libris
4/15 Reading Between the Wines
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/20526645-up-by-five
Author Bio:
I’ve been reading romance since my mom first let me into her book cupboard when I was about fourteen. LaVyrle Spencer, Julie Garwood, Debbie Macomber… they took my ‘happily ever after’ ideas from animated princesses to real people in the real world.
I’ve been writing romance almost as long. Many a family car trip was spent with my head bent over a spiral notebook in the back seat. I’ll confess that my very first attempts at fiction were fantasy and paranormals, influenced by my father’s love of the Lord of the Rings, The Chronicles of Narnia, and the original Alice in Wonderland. If Harry Potter had been around, I’m sure he would have been on the bedtime story shelf as well.
But it wasn’t long until I started writing about true love and that’s where I’ve been ever since.
I’m so thrilled to be able to share these stories with you! I hope that they make you smile, sigh, maybe even choke up a little. Most of all, I hope that they help you believe in magical things like first kisses, the spark of passion, and the power of true love.
Website: http://www.erinnicholas.com/
Blog: http://erinnicholas.blogspot.com/
Facebook Fan Page: https://www.facebook.com/ErinNicholasBooks
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/ErinNicholasAuthor
Twitter: https://twitter.com/ErinNicholas
Nine Naughty Novelists Blog: http://ninenaughtynovelists.blogspot.com/
NNN Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/the9NN
Giveaway:
Erin will be doing a few things. She is hosting a tour-wide giveaway of a $25 gift card with Amazon/Barnes & Noble. She also wants to have a giveaway of any one (1) of her backlist books at each tour stop. And as a thank you to all the bloggers participating, she will be giving away a $15 Amazon/Barnes & Noble gift card. Bloggers have to post on their appointed day by 8 a.m. (PDT) in order to be entered. Please put the rafflecopter on your stop. For individual stop giveaways, please limit the time to 7 days.
Rafflecopter Code:
a Rafflecopter giveaway
Rafflecopter Link:
http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/share-code/NmU0NzZhNDU2ZTQ4YWU2MGQwYTFjOGUzM2IzZjY4OjM2/
April 3, 2014
Jacqui Jacoby: It’s a Launch Party!
With my book coming out I started to Google “launch parties” and everything I found dealt with large venues that were rented and inviting the businesses in town with the town’s officials. It was all about sales and presence.
And that is not what I wanted. I didn’t want an “event”. I wanted a celebration with my close friends and family of what I had accomplished.
I took the concept of ”launch party” and I pulled it into an intimate setting and started planning what I saw as the perfect way to celebrate years of hard work.
Invitations were done word of mouth and by Facebook. Nothing fancy.
Food was planned; just a cake and ice cream with a variety of beverages. For the cake, it took three calls in town to find a baker who could make one with a photographic image on it instead of mere icing.
Suggested decorations for the venue:
* About six or eight small place cards set around the room with character facts. In my case “Jaime doesn’t like chocolate” (above) and “Stephen doesn’t listen to anything produced after 1979.”
* A playlist that represents your book playing softly in the background. For us, it was Stephen’s classic rock.
* Recipe cards might be featured. One recipe that works for him, one for her. I made the Sangria that Jaime loves and served it in cups the color that matched the cover of the book. Guests took the cards home.
* 8.5 X 11 covers of the book displayed in acrylic frames. Not only for this book, but others, if you have them. I put them around the room with a note on two: “Ask Me about My Next Book.” It was a great conversation starter.
* A couple of disposable cameras for guests to use to capture spontaneity.
* Balloon bouquets, steamers, silk rose petals here and there. Things that say “party”.
* Most important: Your new release displayed. Stacks standing next to one that stands alone and strong. Keep a pen handy if someone wants a copy autographed. We sold ours at cost to our friends and family.
A Launch Party doesn’t have to be an official occasion to promote name and sales. Sometimes it can be a mere celebration of this wonderful thing you worked so hard to achieve. Let your family be there with you. Have your friends come and see why you were always so busy. And have fun. In the end, that’s all it is about sometimes!!
April 2, 2014
Heather Ashby: Age is Just A Number (Contest)
I’ve been a sport flirter since the first grade. I played first string in middle school and was a varsity flirter in high school and college. I was stationed in Norfolk, Virginia for my tour in the Navy, and with a ratio of one hundred men for each woman in that town…well, you do the math. Talk about a kid in a candy store.
But wait. Why is the title about age if this blog is about acting confident, sensual, and flirty? Simple. Harry S. Truman may have been president when I was born and I may write about heroes and heroines who are younger than my children, but I’m not giving up flirting any time soon. I plan to be a force to be reckoned with when I check into my nursing home some day.
In French Women Don’t Get Fat, Mireille Guiliano has this to say about older women: “The French rightly acknowledge there is a particular mystique to une femme d’un certain age, an expression with layers of meaning, including respect but also worldliness and hits of seduction. In Europe men naturally find women of this age group desirable, even sexy, and are often caught turning to look at them.” Embrace it, ladies. Just because one has reached a certain age, doesn’t mean she can’t continue to let her confidence and sensuality shine through in a look or a smile—that might possibly be held a nanosecond too long. On purpose.
I’m a happily married woman of 37 years, so the kind of flirting I’m talking about is no longer wooing some guy into bed (unless it’s Mr. Ashby, who has no complaints about being married to a romance author.) It might be a little banter with a salesman at the hardware store. Or striking up a conversation with a handsome man while waiting for your train. Maybe sharing a laugh about something witnessed together in public. Perhaps a smile with your thank-you for a gentleman who has held the door for you. Instead of seduction, it’s more “Catch and Release.” You get the rush of catching the fish, but you’re not planning to take it home.
Sometimes it’s not appropriate to actively flirt, but that doesn’t stop me from checking out guys I might want to put in a book. As a romance author, I get to chalk it up as “research.” I write a Navy romance series called “Love in the Fleet.” Since I live near the Navy base about which I write, there’s plenty of research available. If I go to the base gym to work out around 0730 on Friday mornings, the crew of the USS Stud Muffin is there performing Command Physical Training. I get to watch the show—completely incognito in my old lady body—and they have no idea I’m taking mental notes. I mean, who knew a man’s pecs could behave that way when he’s doing pull-ups? Just because you’re on a diet, doesn’t mean you can’t look at the menu.
One day I was standing in line at the base post office, silently ogling the back of the flight-suit-clad pilot in front of me. I’m sorry, but there’s just something about a guy in a military flight suit. Not sure if all the pilots are sexy as hell or it’s just the addition of the flight suit—which is doubly sexy when they roll back their cuffs—as this pilot did. Now, flight suits have zippered pockets on the arms and legs to stow survival gear when flying. So this hot pilot goes to pay for his postage by unzipping his shoulder zipper and pulling out a credit card—which was pretty sexy in itself. But then he turned his head, smiled at me over his shoulder, and said, “You won’t tell anybody about my little secret hiding place, now will you?” I managed to smile back and say, “No,” which was difficult because I had already melted into a puddle of goo on the post office floor. Here’s how that experience played out in Book 2 in my series, Forget Me Not, about a playboy Navy pilot named Sky Crawford:
Sky flipped through his Rolodex of smiles, selecting just the right one because he would need the receptionist on his good side if he was going to get on any side of Dr. Untouchable. Usually chicks that didn’t fall for his I’m-the-bad-boy-of-your-dreams-honey smile succumbed to his aw-shucks-golly-gee-ma’am grin. Worked like a charm.
Certain he had Lillian’s attention, Sky unzipped a shoulder pocket in his flight suit and extracted his credit card. He glanced around dramatically, leaned over the desk, and said in a low voice, “You won’t tell anybody about my little secret hiding place, now will you, Lillian?” She took the card, her smile filling the room with sunshine. Too bad he wasn’t interested in the receptionist because it was clear he had her hook, line, and sinker.
Ladies, why do many of us read romance novels? Because we love that rush of new love, affection, and attention. Just because you may no longer be a teen, a twenty-something, a thirty-something, or even a forty-something, (and some of us will keep counting) age is just a number. Attitude is everything. Stand proud, embrace your sensuality, and let your beauty shine through—especially when there’s a hot guy around. Just don’t forget to throw the fish back if you’re not supposed to be taking home trophies.
Thanks for inviting me today, Delilah. I’d like to leave a question with your readers and an e-copy of Forget Me Not for one lucky commenter. Do you enjoy a bit of flattery and flirting now and then? (And if you’d like to stay in touch with the captain of the sport flirting team, Sky Crawford, feel free to LIKE his Facebook page: facebook.com/SkyCrawfordFanClub)
Blurb for FORGET ME NOT:
Suffering from Peter Pan Syndrome and survivor guilt, Navy helicopter pilot and renowned playboy, Brian “Skylark” Crawford, swears he’ll never marry, uncertain he deserves happiness—besides there are too many hot chicks to choose from. War widow and veterinarian, Daisy Schneider, swears to love only animals after her Marine pilot husband is killed in Afghanistan—but work fails to ease her loneliness or the guilt that she might have saved him. Between one matchmaking, rescue cat and a fiery battle with drug runners at sea, the fur flies as Sky and Daisy learn valuable lessons about life, love, and second chances.
Forget Me Not: http://alturl.com/wb6ru
AUTHOR BIO:
Heather Ashby is a Navy veteran who taught school and raised a family while accompanying her Navy husband around the United States, Japan, and the Middle East. In gratitude for her Army son’s safe return from Afghanistan and Iraq, she now writes military romance novels, donating half her royalties to causes that support wounded warriors and their families. Forgive & Forget, Book 1 in “Love in the Fleet,” was voted “Best of 2013” by Suspense Magazine. She lives in Atlantic Beach, Florida with her husband and two rescue cats.
www.heatherashby.com
Twitter: www.@HAshbyAuthor
facebook.com/HeatherAshbyAuthor?ref=hl
April 1, 2014
A Sneak Peek at HER ONLY DESIRE…
On May 6th, I have a full-length novel releasing with Grand Central’s Forever Yours line in both paperback and ebook. It’s just the sort of tale all those 50 Shades of Grey fans should love. It’s available for pre-order now!
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 restraint, she will shed her every inhibition and surrender to him, body and soul.
Buy at Amazon | Buy at Barnes & Noble
The sound was faint and haunting, entering his dreams like a distant echo. A metallic tinkling drifting closer, coming and going, like tiny golden bells worn on a waving arm.
Boone Benoit awoke in a sweat. He lay still for a moment, searching the darkness around him, remembering the layout of the furniture in his bedroom, but finding no new shadows to cause alarm.
But he heard the tinkling in the distance and slipped out of bed. Opening the French doors that led onto the balcony, he stepped out into the humid night air and listened.
Nothing. He must have imagined the sound. Or maybe the gardeners had installed wind chimes, and they’d stirred in a breeze. Although, right this moment, the thick bayou air was perfectly still.
Another door opened farther down the balcony. From the corner of his eye, Boone saw his right-hand man, Sergei Gun, step outside.
“You okay, boss?”
“I’m fine, Serge. Just thought I heard something.”
“Want me to have the guards take a look around the grounds?”
He began to shake his head. His unease at being back was clearly playing with his head, and he wasn’t happy about it. He’d only been back a day, but in Bayou Vert, news traveled faster than CNN across backyard fences. For all he knew, someone might be there in the dark, staring down the barrel of a rifle. “Yeah, have them make a round. And find out if someone put up wind chimes.”
Serge’s head canted.
He probably wanted to ask why, but knew Boone well enough to refrain. Boone and those closest to him had secrets they all kept close to the chest. For good reason.
“What do you want them to do if they find chimes?”
“Shoot ’em,” Boone said with a grim smile.
Serge’s teeth gleamed in the shadows. “Get some sleep, boss.”
“You too.”
Boone stepped back inside and lay down on the bed, closing his eyes and trying to relax, but he strained to hear the telltale sound—golden bells on a bracelet, tinkling at the end of a pale arm.
Dragging in a deep breath, he wondered if he was ready for this. Ready to return to his childhood home. Ready to face his past and the terrible thing that had happened here.
Likely, the sound had been only a dream, dredged up by his own feelings of guilt. A blood-soaked memory. Boone acknowledged the guilt. Accepted it. But now was the time to face the part he’d played. Dead calm settled around him and he drifted off into an uneasy sleep.
*~*~*~*~*
Clotille Floret waved a lazy hand at a fly buzzing, although even that felt like too much effort in the stifling heat. She went back to washing down small bistro tables and chairs outside the restaurant, not that anyone in their right mind would want to sit outside on a day like today.
Still, Mae insisted. Didn’t matter what the season was, things had to be done in a certain order. And since she was the one signing Tilly’s paychecks, Tilly didn’t bother arguing. It wasn’t like Tilly had anything better to do. Life in the bayou was unchanging—summer’s even more so. There was no Walmart, no movie theater, no entertainments to speak of other than the restaurant and Tater Cribb’s tiny bar, which boasted four concrete-block walls, AC that worked most of the time, and a jukebox that played hits from the ’80s since he’d never bothered updating the selection. Tilly knew every tune by heart.
Like a Southern-fried Brigadoon, this seedy little bayou town had been stuck in a single track. Unmoving and morose. After her mother had died and her aunt and uncle had moved away, Tilly had been marooned here, trying to make ends meet to set things right for her brother. Only her efforts were too little and too late.
Sweat trickled from her brow into her eye, and she swiped it away with the back of her hand. She’d dawdled outside long enough. A string of chores awaited her inside.
The sound of an automobile approaching drew her attention, and she watched a dark limo slide down Main Street, dark windows hiding the passenger, the engine a low, contained rumble. Unease shivered through her, tightening her belly. The day everyone in town had sworn would never come had arrived.
As the vehicle drew near, she couldn’t help but pull down the edges of her Daisy Dukes. Somehow, the thought of flashing her ass cheeks to the man who rode by in that impossibly luxurious black Bentley seemed a little too stereotypically trashy. Never mind that was how she earned her best tips.
The car’s appearance in Bayou Vert was noteworthy enough that LeRoy Duhon stepped out of his bait shop. And Cletus Guidry wiped a greasy rag as he strode from the bay of his auto repair shop to watch. He was likely drooling. Fat chance he’d even get to change the oil on the sleek beauty. Up and down the short block, townsfolk gathered on the sidewalk. A presidential candidate on a baby-kissing campaign tour couldn’t have gotten more attention.
The only person who didn’t come outside was Tilly’s boss, Mae Baillio. Mae stood inside the restaurant, watching through the screened windows. Her dark hands folded over her middle, and her gaze followed the car like it was a hearse, leading the way to the graveyard.
Boone Benoit’s return might have felt like that to her. Tante Mae had known the young Boone, remembered the scandal all too well. She’d been working for Tilly’s aunt at the time.
Even for Tilly, the slow procession felt…ominous. She’d been a tween when the tragedy struck, and although she’d cried buckets of tears in the days after, she’d recovered, showing the resilience of a child. Not so, the rest of her family. They’d worn the pain like open wounds, never letting them heal. Something she hadn’t understood until she’d found the little treasure box.
She turned her back and walked into the restaurant, striding up beside Mae as the car slid out of sight.
“Man’s got brass balls,” Mae whispered, her voice hoarse.
Tilly shivered, wondering if everyone felt like she did. Like the ground would begin to shiver and shake before opening up a huge jagged gash to swallow the entire town.
Change was coming. Wasn’t something anyone in the bayou was likely to embrace. Hurricanes came and went, flattening buildings then sweeping them out on rising tides. The town took Nature’s violence all in stride. But this was different. Darker. A reminder of the scar left on their collective souls.
“Thought for sure he was only prettyin’ up his house to sell it,” Tilly said softly, placing a hand on Mae’s tense shoulder.
“Saw it in the cups. He be here to stir up trouble.”
Although Tilly didn’t believe in the portents the older woman read in her tea leaves, she couldn’t shake the thought Boone Benoit was back for justice. Not something she could voice aloud, because most folks thought he’d escaped a rightful lynching.
Mae shook off her hand and crossed stiff-legged to the corkboard, where yet another list of jobs opening at the plantation had been tacked just that morning. As often as Boone Benoit’s foreman put up the notice, Mae tore it down and wadded it in her fist. The crisp page crackled as her brown fingers balled it tight.
Not that Tilly had needed more than a quick glance when the large, muscled foreman sauntered inside day after day to post yet another notice. The position that made her uneasy was still there. Still open.
She didn’t dare apply. Not just because everyone she knew would be appalled. The secret she’d kept bottled inside was too near the surface of her emotions to risk being anywhere near Boone Benoit.
And yet, how could she not? The money from her cashed-in 401(k) was gone. Her house sold. The only way she could rescue Denny from the group home that so frightened him was a better-paying job. Shaking her ass for the male customers at Mae’s Cafe wouldn’t get her what she needed, and that left her with only one alternative.
“Saw you lookin’ at da board,” Mae said, her dark eyes cold and narrowed. “You know you’re only buyin’ trouble. You should go back to da city. Can’t take care of Denny if you don’ take care of yourself first.”
“Denny could never live in the city.” The thought saddened her. Denny wasn’t quite right. Moving him with her to the city simply wasn’t an option.
“Maybe you should just let him go.”
Tilly shook her head. It was something she had considered, although she was too ashamed to admit it.
The bell above the restaurant’s door tinkled.
Tilly gave Mae a quick tight smile, and then pasted on a bigger one as she turned. Her lips froze. “Oh. Hey there, Leon.”
Sheriff Leon Fournier tilted his head, and his gaze skimmed quickly over her thin tank only to linger on her long, bare legs. “Nice to see you, Tilly.”
Tilly rolled her eyes. “Answer’s still no. Want your coffee with cream?”
“Ain’t everything better with cream?”
She ignored his amused drawl, skirting past him without touching. Once behind the counter, she breathed easier and busied herself pouring coffee into a Styrofoam cup, hoping he’d take the hint he should take the coffee with him as he left.
Leon leaned a hip against the counter and pointed toward the window. “You see Benoit skate through town like he owned it?”
Tilly arched a brow. “Doesn’t he? Half the men not out shrimpin’ are workin’ on his place.”
“Thought he was gonna sell it.”
“Maybe he’s gonna meet a realtor there,” Tilly mused, hoping her statement was true.
Leon’s lips pursed. “Haven’t seen it go up on any of the real estate websites.”
She arched a taunting brow. “You know how to use the Internet?”
His eyes narrowed. “Girl, what you got against me?”
“Not a girl, Leon.” Her fingers wrapped around the edge of the counter. “And maybe I don’t like bein’ stripped every time you look at me.”
“Cain’t help it,” he said, smiling. “I’m a man. Somethin’ sweet as you comes back to town… Mmm-mm…” He shook his head and gave her another look.
A leering look that made her annoyed. There was no denying he was a handsome man with his thick chestnut hair, broad chest, and dark uniform. Too bad he knew it. “Here’s your coffee,” she said, plunking it down on the counter. “You have a nice day, Sheriff.”
But Leon didn’t take the hint, and instead, settled on a stool. He opened the lid and silently reached out his hand to Mae, who handed him two sugar packets with a stern look.
“Didn’t think you liked sweet. Just spicy,” Tilly said. “Isn’t that what you told me yesterday when you came by for a cup of Mae’s shrimp gumbo?”
“I can like both, sweetheart. ’Specially when it’s served just right.”
She leaned over the counter, moving into his space.
His eyelids dipped, and by the flare of his nostrils, he drew in her scent.
“When are you gonna give up?” she said, dropping her voice. “I’m not interested.”
He laughed. “Sugar, I’m the best you’re gonna get in this town.”
Fingers tense, she rubbed her rag near his cup, pushing it toward the edge of the counter.
But he caught the cup before it toppled into his lap. “If you’d burned me, I might have had to arrest you for assaultin’ an officer of the law.” His eyebrows waggled up and down and a grin stretched. “You want a little time in lockup? That make things easier for you?”
This time, she laughed and shook her head. “Leon, were you always such a lech?”
He chuckled and slid off the stool.
The bell tinkled again.
The large muscled construction foreman from Maison Plaisir strode in, his glance going to the sheriff, to whom he gave a nod. Then his gaze casually slid to Tilly.
“The best I’m gonna get, huh?” she murmured, straightening from the counter. To the foreman, she said, “Can I get you somethin’, Mr. Jones?”
The foreman drew a paper from his back pocket, folded once.
Without glancing down, she knew the paper was another notice. “When are you gonna give up?” she chided in a friendly tone. “Mae’s just gonna put it in the trash again.”
His mouth twitched. “Position’s still open, Miss Floret.” He handed the paper directly to Tilly, gave a nod to Leon, then left.
Her mind went blank. He wanted her to apply?
“What’s he talkin’ about, Tilly?” Leon stared.
Ignoring the suspicion in his voice, she looked down at the sheet and the job highlighted in yellow at the top.
Hospitality Executive.
The salary listed right below was higher than the amount had been yesterday. Too high to ignore. With that much extra cash, she could afford to rent a place for her and Denny in no time.
“You’re not thinkin’ about workin’ out there,” Leon whispered. “It’s different with the men. No female in her right mind would go there. Especially not someone like you.”
“Someone like me?” she said, her back stiffening.
“Well, pretty. Young. Especially if he’s back for a while.”
“Doesn’t appear there’s been any more trouble around Boone Benoit. He’s more than redeemed himself.”
The sheriff’s lips turned into a sneer. “Spendin’ time in the navy as a SEAL only means he’s learned more efficient ways to kill.”
“He was never prosecuted,” she said, feeling stubbornness tighten her grip on the paper.
“Only ’cause his daddy made everything disappear and my daddy was willin’ to help.”
Tilly jutted her chin. “Both your daddies should have let the law run its course. He might have been acquitted.” Her gaze met his and held.
Leon’s doubtful expression only echoed the prevailing sentiment. Boone Benoit had beaten a murder rap.
“Don’t do it, Tilly.”
“You’re not the boss of me. Think I want to work here forever?”
“You’re a smart girl. Got yourself an education.” His hand waved at the folded paper. “You can do more than this.”
Her pulse pounded. “Think I haven’t tried? I can’t work on a boat. This town doesn’t have any other jobs I can get hired for besides waitin’ tables. Who around here runnin’ a family business wants to hire me? No one’s wife or mother would stand for it.”
“Mae’s gettin’ on in age. Maybe you could take over someday.”
“And in the meantime…” She glanced down at her frayed shorts and a pang shot through her gut. “I used to wear Donna Karan and Jimmy Choos.”
“No need to get snooty.”
“I’m not. Just makin’ a point. If this,” she said, waving the sheet, “is my only opportunity, I have to take it.”
A muscle flexed alongside his jaw. “Don’t say you weren’t warned.”
Tilly sighed. “I appreciate your concern. I do.”
His eyelids dropped a fraction. “Might help if he knew you were datin’ the sheriff…”
She laughed, and then punched his shoulder. “Not even if you were the last man on earth.”
“You’re a hard woman.” He shook his head.
“I’ve had to be.” And she’d have to stiffen her spine one more time. Boone Benoit’s posting was just too tempting to ignore, especially for a woman who couldn’t help but flirt with disaster.
March 31, 2014
Sharon Hamilton: WHAT MAKES A GOOD AUDIO BOOK? (Contest)
J.D. Hart as Pirate!
I’m sure all of us have heard an audio book we could hardly wait to get, only to be disappointed with the narrator. Choosing the right one is so important. Although I think I just got lucky in choosing J.D. Hart to narrate my books, I went through a learning curve. Here are some of the things I’ve learned:
As a reader, you know you can search Audible by narrator, right? That means, if you find a voice you love, you can go online and see all the other books he/she has narrated and listen to them as well. This is not something I knew when I first started out, nor did I know that loyal listeners would travel to one author from another when a good narrator is found.
As an author, chose a narrator with an already existing following of some kind. Perhaps this person is an actor with fans, or is involved in the music industry and has fans. Or chose a narrator who is willing to or knows how to promote you as the author. Many will do this, but not all of them will. It is so helpful when your narrator can bring fans to your listening audience.
Make sure you take into account the number of characters, accents and special voices you will need for your books, and make sure your sample narration covers some of these. That way, you get an audition of the narrator’s true skills, not just a portion. If you are sensitive how women’s voices sound, for instance, with a male narrator, make sure they read a part where you have the H/H (two most important parts of the romance novel) speaking in dialogue. Or an action scene, or a little of both (a tip from Bella Andre). You’re going to have to get used to a stranger reading your sex scenes aloud. Get over it. You’ll pick yourself up off the floor and learn to actually like it. Honest.
Make sure you allow proper time (usually 1.5 hours for every hour of narration) to properly proof, listen and assist the narrator in giving the kind of command performance you want.
Do you want one narrator or two? It can be difficult to edit if there are two parties, but some authors feel having two voices helps readers get a flavor of their story. In my case, I didn’t want that. I wanted the listener to fall in love with the voice I’d chosen, just as I had. I thought they’d be annoyed having to listen to anyone else’s.
You can ask questions about timing and how the narrator handles edits. In this way, you will find out how easy he/she is to work with. Remember, this is an intimate partnership. If you haven’t done one before, you will be excited and nervous as heck when you hire your first and you hear your words translated into the spoken word. Almost like a first date. Your narrator will see the flaws in your story, your writing, errors in grammar and diction, as well as reveal very personal things about your story as he/she tells it—again, the narrator becomes a character in your book, and the reader/listener hears it through his/her interpretation.
Don’t be afraid to be frank if you don’t like some thing. Make sure you listen to chapters slowly at first to make sure you are on the same page about things. You don’t want to have to ask for several chapters of re-do. In the end, it is your story, and you are paying the bills, in most cases. You deserve to get what you want.
No matter how good a narrator is, some readers/listeners will not be comfortable with that voice. They may have read the character a different way. I have some people that won’t listen to an audio book because they want the experience of the character they created in their own mind.
WHAT IS AMAZING ABOUT THE AUDIO BOOK is that we aren’t duplicating the experience of reading, WE’RE ENHANCING it. It is a different art form. We’re deepening the experience for the reader/listener.
At Tucson Festival of Books earlier this month, I asked readers what they liked to use. Last year, people were split 50/50 over using an eReader and a paperback book. This year, I was told over and over again, “I use them all. I read on my smart phone, I read on my computer, on my tablet as well as the print book. If I like the book, I buy the print, eBook AND the Audio Book.
THIS FACT WAS HUGE FOR ME. If not than for any other reason, authors who are not doing audio books are missing the boat.
In short, I just plain lucked out. It could have been a horrible experience and I just jumped in. But I found the most kind and talented guy in the world to do my stories. I’ve learned to ask for what I need, which took some getting used to on my part. I’ve learned to trust him, to allow him to take the lead where he knows best, and to just shut up and let him work.
It has been one of the highlights of my career to get involved with the six audio books I’ve done with J.D. Hart. And the fact that they are selling well, is only testament to how good he is at what he does.
Here’s a little treat for you, a sample reading and a book trailer with his voice. Enjoy!! Leave a comment here and one lucky person will win an audio book of their choice from the six we have recorded. Tell me something you either like or don’t like about audio books, or reveal if you are an audio virgin. We’ll see if we can do something to take care of that right away.
Book Trailer, Cruisin For A SEAL.
Sample Narration, Honeymoon Bite (Marcus/Anne)
Books 1-4 of the SEAL Brotherhood are on Audible now. Books 1 & 2 of the Golden Vampires of Tuscany series also out on Audible.
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
NYT and USA/Today and top 100 Amazon bestselling author Sharon Hamilton’s award-winning Navy SEAL Brotherhood series have been fan favorites since they were first released. They’ve earned her the coveted Amazon author ranking of #1 in Romantic Suspense, Military Romance and Contemporary Romance, as well as Gothic Romance for her Vampires of Tuscany and guardian angels. Her characters follow a sometimes rocky road to redemption through passion and true love.
Her Golden Vampires of Tuscany are not like any vamps you’ve read about before, since they don’t go to ground and can walk around in the full light of the sun.
Her Guardian Angels struggle with the human charges they are sent to save, often escaping their vanilla world of Heaven for the brief human one. You won’t find any of these beings in any Sunday school class.
March 30, 2014
Michele Drier: Bring on fantasy!
At a mystery writers’ conference last week (yep, I write those, too) I was talking to another author (male) and the subject of what women want came up.
Well, the subject was 50 Shades of Grey. When authors get together they always want to talk about books that sell millions of copies.
If we could figure out the formula, we’d sell millions, too!
The conversation went beyond book sales, though. The guy was truly wondering why millions of women bought and read the book.
“Do women want to be taken against their will? I thought that was rape,” he said.
Whew, this was way beyond my understanding of all women’s psychology and fantasies.
Fantasy is the key here, though. Many women have fantasies of having sex when they have some hesitation. But it’s the wooing, the convincing that matters. The woman’s pleasure is paramount in books like 50 Shades.
This book opened the floodgates for BDSM literature, as well as bringing erotica out of the shadows. And looking at the number of books and oceans of sales, women have wanted outlets for their fantasies for a long time.
I have an acquaintance who looks like someone’s grandmother. She should be rocking in a chair by the fire, knitting afghans and reading to her grandchildren. Instead, she writes erotica—pretty hot erotica—and I always wonder when I see her together with her husband of maybe fifty years.
When I read 50 Shades I was beginning to write The Kandesky Vampire Chronicles. I didn’t want my characters to go down the BDSM route, but I surely wanted my protagonist, Maxie Gwenoch, a regular woman, to have a complete fantasy. She was falling in love with a vampire. She loved his caring, his competency, his money, his lifestyle, his urbaneness.
And the fact that he was five hundred years old, had made love to countless women and knew his way around a woman’s body was a giant plus.
In SNAP: White Nights, the seventh book in The Kandesky Vampire Chronicles, the relationship between Maxie and Jean-Louis deepens and a new romance between Nik and Jazz begins. Jazz now has Maxie’s previous job as Managing Editor of SNAP, and Nik is a four hundred year old vampire and a leader of the Kandesky family. Nik’s been with women over the past centuries and Maxie knows Jazz is in for a treat.
My conversation at the conference didn’t resolve anything and the guy went away still not knowing what women want. I couldn’t figure out how to tell him that sometimes we don’t want to be responsible, sometimes we want our partners to (gently) coerce us, sometimes we want romance and always we want foreplay.
A few hundred years of experience would help a fantasy, too.
*~*~*~*~*~*
Michele Drier was born in Santa Cruz and is a fifth generation Californian. She’s lived and worked all over the state, calling both Southern and Northern California home. During her career in journalism—as a reporter and editor at daily newspapers—she won awards for producing investigative series.
SNAP: White Nights the seventh book of her paranormal romance series, The Kandesky Vampire Chronicles, was published March 20. She’s working on the eighth book in the series, SNAP: All That Jazz, scheduled for publication in late spring 2014.
She also writes the Amy Hobbes Newspaper mysteries, Edited for Death and Labeled for Death. A third book, Delta for Death, is coming in 2014.
March 29, 2014
Check out “Cowboy Culture”
I’m not feeling like myself at all. This time of year’s always terrible for me—allergy season. I cough all night, dose myself with cough syrup and Nyquil, and then sleep around the clock. With so much work on my plate right now it’s very inconvenient! But I’m taking time away from my desk today to rest. So no new posting from me, but I can point you toward something really fun and interesting.
Megan Mitcham, one of the fabulous contributors to Cowboy Heat, posted a blog about “Cowboy Culture” on our collection website. Go check it out. Give her some encouragement, because I do believe she has more on the subject to share!
March 28, 2014
Taige Crenshaw: Idea Spark Realized
There have been many times I’ve been asked how I come up with ideas in my novels. I’ve discussed how anything can spark an idea. Below is the original information about an idea spark I had because of something I saw.
Idea Spark – A Fro Affair
I was on my way home the other day when I passed this woman who was sporting a slamming Afro hairstyle. The woman’s fro was big, high and poufy. I think it was a wig but it was so good I couldn’t tell. She was also sporting the clothing to go with the fro. She looked fierce. People were turning and looking at her. Me included. People were complimenting her on her look. Like any good diva she said thank you graciously and kept strutting. As I watched the woman stepping looking cool and fierce my mind was racing.
Yep another idea was taking shape. As I walked home I thought of the Fro. The idea took shape for a book with a woman in a fierce fro and clothes to match.
A fro brought so much more than viewing pleasure. It brought an inspiration. I’ve mentioned before that there are inspirations for ideas all around you. Taking something that happens in the everyday life then using it create a concept and make it yours. The unexpected can lead to so much more.
Any little thing can give you an idea spark.
~~~~~~~~~~
This idea spark has now been realized and has lead to scene in my upcoming book More than Temptation (Singleton, Book #3). That ‘fro and her fierce look stuck in my mind and I knew I would use it for the future. Which I have done. That is one idea spark off my list. Yay!
I have notebooks where I write down things that spark an idea that I can use for something future. Ideas are all around in everyday life and I can be having a conversation which can get the mind going with something that will end up in a book. Or as with the ‘fro was it can be something I saw and it ends up in a story. I love just sitting and watching what is going on around me. So if you see me staring off into space that probably means something had sparked an idea and I’m plotting a future scene. I’m adding to my idea spark. *wink*
****
Taige Crenshaw is a multi-published author with books available at Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Liquid Silver Books, Loose Id, and Totally Bound. Taige has been enthralled with the written word from time she picked up her first book. It wasn’t long before she started to make up her own tales of romance. With novels set in today, in alternate dimensions, or in the future she writes with adventure, fun sassy heroine’s, and sexy hero’s. Always hard at work creating new and exciting places Taige can be found curled up with a hot novel with exciting characters when she is not creating her own. Join her in the fun, frolic, interesting people and far reaches of the world in her novels. You can find out more about Taige at her website: http://www.taigecrenshaw.com or blog: http://www.taigecrenshaw.com/blog.
Immortal Bloodlines — A stubborn woman is hard to capture, but once you have, what do you do with her? Buy here
March 27, 2014
Missy Jane: Hello Spring!
Every year for spring break I take my four daughters on a road trip up into the Texas Hill Country and subject them to the (they think) torturous ritual of having their pictures taken among the wildflowers. This is a tradition I love because Texas wildflowers are my favorite and I love any opportunity to take photos of my girls. Unfortunately, this year has been overrun with winter. I wasn’t sure we’d ever see spring, but finally proof it has arrived is here: Bluebonnets.
We didn’t take our annual road trip because of the weather. Plus I have a new job this year and no paid vacation time. So, I took two days and we did things around town instead. But I was thrilled to finally see Bluebonnets blooming in a few spots around Houston. I have to admit I haven’t been writing much lately and I think the dreary weather is partly to blame. Being a pantser, I really can’t force myself to write or nothing good comes of it. Spring is one of the most inspiring times and I already feel the characters shoving each other to be heard first.
My most recent release is an erotic romance. It’s the sequel to Erotic Images released by Ellora’s Cave a couple of years ago. This one is called Erotic Influence and is just as hot. To be honest, I even had to cut a couple of sex scenes. For the first time ever, my editor let me know my characters were having a little too much fun. This is a stand-alone book with a couple of related side characters that were the main characters in the first book. Wes, the photographer in the first book, has a new subject to shoot. Rick is a healthy, hunky, twenty-something that does the erotic photo shoots because he enjoys them and likes the extra money. Then he meets Annie and realizes she could use the money too. Talking her into taking her clothes off for the camera is a whole other issue.
Sequel to Erotic Images.
Annie may be a shy twentysomething who spends her days keeping track of her wayward teenage sister, but Rick noticed her living across the street as soon as he moved in. Now he can’t stop fantasizing his sweet, innocent neighbor and wanting her has become an obsession. He just has to convince her to give him a chance instead of always running away.
Annie has plans for her life but has to help her sister get into college first. Then Rick comes along and proves to be a help as much as a distraction. All she has to do is pose for his friend, an erotic photographer. Not only will she earn the money needs for her sister’s college fund, Rick’s erotic influence just might liberate her enough to become his woman too. It’s a chance she’s more than willing to take…so long as no one finds out what she’s doing.
A Romantica® contemporary erotic romance from Ellora’s Cave
Buy it here: http://www.ellorascave.com/erotic-influence.html
Other than taking road trips to see the wildflowers, I love playing online. You can find me here:
http://www.authormissyjane.com
http://msmissyjane.blogspot.com/.
https://twitter.com/msmissyjane
https://www.facebook.com/pages/Missy-Jane/208776832491620
Ms. Missy Jane is the alter ego of a married mother of four who was born and raised in Texas. A few years ago she finished reading a book by Mercedes Lackey and thought “Now, what if…” and a monster was created. Missy now spends most of her time lost in worlds of her own making, alternately loving and hating such creatures as vampires, shape-shifters and gargoyles (to name a few). When not writing, she spends her time reading, taking photos of her beautiful daughters and training her husband to believe she’s always right.
March 26, 2014
Miranda Baker: Girl Trouble in Hindsight
I am a straight-up sucker for those “things you wish you could tell your younger self” posts. Even though I have kids and know better, there are some crazy things I wish I could tell my younger selves. I’m sure I wouldn’t appreciate them, but if I had a time machine, I might give it a shot. For example, I wish I could tell my ten-year-old self not to curse so much. It’s too late now, and a career in professional kitchens didn’t help my potty mouth. Now I have to turn to my kids and say, “You know you aren’t allowed to say that word, right?” They nod, so I follow up with, “But since you probably will, pay attention to context. Cursing inappropriately sounds ridiculous.”
I would tell my high school self not to be such a tease. Those poor boys! I’d tell her a few other things I’ve learned, too…including that intimacy has physical, emotional, and spiritual consequences. I tell my kids they have to be prepared for all those things. Boy, oh, boy, do I hope they listen!
I’d tell my college self to keep writing. I believed an English professor who didn’t believe in me, and lost a decade. Fortunately I spent the decade cooking and met my husband, so I guess I’d have to tell her to keep writing WHILE cooking.
I’d tell my thirty-something self to memorize the symptoms of postpartum hemorrhage. Twice. Because doctors don’t know everything, and you don’t get politeness points for being an easy patient if you bleed out.
I wonder what I’ll want to tell my forty-something self in ten years? With the way things are going, I bet it will be something like “Work less, live more.” My husband suggests “Have as much sex as possible.” I think I’ll get a jump on both, just in case. No regrets!
Do you have a message for a younger self? Which self? What is it? All commenters will earn an entry in my GIRL TROUBLE birthday giveaway, so please leave me a way to contact you (Twitter handle, e-mail address separated by spaces, etc.). Prizes will involve leather, shiny things, books, and gift cards. Winners will be picked on my birthday, April 8th. Giveaway is International. You must be 18 to enter. Incorrect or incomplete entry voids entry. (So don’t forget that contact method!) Winner will be chosen by a random method and will be contacted within 2 days after the contest ends. Winner has two days to claim prize. Entry constitutes agreement to the rules and confirms age.
There are no safe words for love.
Come Again, Book 4
Bonita Pritchard has tried everything to get over the one woman she can’t have, movie star and secret lover Kat St. James. Yoga, tantra, psychotherapy, even BDSM. Nothing has helped for long.
Hanging on the thinnest thread of denied desire, Bonita heads for Hollywood to get her Kat fix, fully intending to return straight home to her sex-toy boutique, Come Again. Until she sees the surprise Kat has in store for her.
Playing the talented bad girl kick-started Kat’s career twelve years ago. Now she’s famous, filthy rich…and totally miserable. Leaving Bonita in Norton was a mistake, and she’s planning one last attempt to fix it—by transforming her king-sized closet into a dungeon. And using her training as a Domme to satisfy her lover’s latest kink.
Soon, their white-hot need for each other transcends their desire to protect Kat’s heterosexual screen-siren image. But when compromising pictures surface, Kat realizes there’s only one way to beat the tabloid gossip that’s tearing them apart. Fight fire with fire…
Warning: This book contains kink in the closet, sexy games in an SUV, and D/s in the middle of the living room. And love strong enough to break all bonds.
Excerpt:
Bonita leaned forward and paid her fare. “You can go. I’ll be fine.” Probably. Maybe. She scrubbed her knuckles across her cheeks and rubbed her eyes, a niggling, gypsy fear stealing around the edges of her mind. Kat didn’t know she was coming. She could be working late or partying with a houseful of people. Heck, she could even be out of the country.
The driver got her bag out of the trunk and left it under one of the two palm trees that flanked the front walkway. He jumped back into the taxi and zipped down the driveway. Before Bonita could really consider her half-formed plan of throwing up in the astonishing, brightly tiled fountain, two uniformed security guards appeared, no doubt notified by the other goons at the front gate.
“Good evening, Miss. We’ll need to see your bag before you enter the house.” Bonita suppressed a giggle at being called “Miss”. The security guard was all of twenty-something to her round thirty. She said nothing as they waved their metal-detecting wands around her body and checked her bag, instead focusing on the calming gurgles and the truly stunning Talavera tile work of the fountain.
“Thank you, Miss.” The guard rang the bell for her and nodded politely, then silently disappeared around the side of the house with his partner. Without a warning sound, the front door swung open.
Bonita stared at Kat.
She was ten times more beautiful than she had been in her last movie. Twenty times more magnetic. And about a hundred times more distant. Each film took her further out of reach.
The reality of their situation ripped into Bonita with the punishing lash of a whip. She had been foolish to come here.
“Hello, Beauty.” Kat’s voice was pitched for privacy, and she wrapped her tongue around the words as if she could taste them, teeth flashing.
Saliva rushed to Bonita’s mouth, and blood rushed everywhere else, her long-standing, automatic reaction to being near Kat. She wanted her, immediately, hopelessly and helplessly, any way she could get her. She was drawn to Kat’s fearlessness. Her beauty. Her bad-girl, gonna-f***-you-’til-you-drop, bone-deep sensuality that was so different from Bonita’s restrained desires.
She tried to tune all of that out and focus on the not-so-hopeless part. Kat had long ago chosen her career over love, but Bonita didn’t need love. She just needed Kat once in a while.
She swallowed. “You answer your own door? I’m impressed.” Oh hell, three years of virtual silence and the best she could come up with was lame sarcasm? That wasn’t what she’d meant to say at all.
“Don’t be. I knew it was you.” Kat tossed her head. Her inky-black hair rained over her proud shoulders. Kat’s hair had been an untamable mane since childhood. Even when her mother had been able to catch her and hold her down, she had never been able to get a brush through all of it. “Come on in, little Beauty.”
“I’m not little.” Bonita squared her shoulders.
“No, but you’ll always be younger than I am. I like to keep you in your place.”
“Two months, Kat. Two months younger than you.” Bonita tried to brush by her, but Kat put a lazy hand on her bare arm. Her jasmine scent made Bonita dizzy with longing, so she held her breath. At least once a month, she would wake from a dream and swear she could smell the warm, seductive scent on her pillow.
“Aren’t you going to kiss me hello? How long has it been?” Kat asked.
“You know as well as I do how long it’s been.” She stumbled over the words. Why did Kat always do this to her? Her tongue felt thick in her mouth. Her brain couldn’t quite bridge the synapses. Her skin felt dry and taut. She couldn’t tear her eyes away from Kat’s dark gaze.
“Aside from polite e-mails and skillfully timed voice messages, I’m positive that I haven’t heard from you in three years, darling.” Kat let a bit of Western New York slip into her voice. “And you never answer when I call. Caller ID has given me a f***ing complex.”
Kat held her hostage in the doorway, stroking her arms and making the hairs stand on end. Bonita’s breath whooshed out of her lungs. This was why she kept her distance. Being near Kat was dangerous to her self-control. Yet here she was, square in the lioness’s den, planning to bait her, no less. She was a total masochist.
“I’m here, Kat,” she said quietly. “Can’t that be enough for now? Can’t I just be here? With you? Can’t we spend some time together?”
“Of course, Beauty.” Kat drew Bonita into the house and shut the door behind her. There was more of the pretty tile in the entryway, textured terra cotta inset with smaller, more intricately designed squares. Hardwood floors stretched beyond the tiled foyer, and to the left, a carved wood staircase with a wrought-iron railing hinted at more grandeur above.
For a moment Bonita thought she was safe. Then Kat’s lush curves trapped her against the door. “I’ve missed you. I’ve missed our games. You’ve always been my most responsive audience.”
“Kat,” Bonita began, her voice leaden with warning, but she couldn’t get another word out before Kat pushed away from her.
“Don’t.” Kat turned her back and walked to the wide stairway that seemed to extend to the heavens. “Come on. I have something to show you.”
Excitement burned in Kat’s eyes, but Bonita also sensed loneliness and a black weariness that broke her heart. She could ignore an insult and resist a dare, but she could never walk away when Kat truly needed her. At this moment, Kat could have been asking her to join her in hell, and Bonita would have said yes, just to keep her company.
Tough Kat. Beautiful Kat. Selfish Kat.
Bonita had watched her transformation from afar, driven back every so often, yes, just like that dumbass moth after the flame, to get the thrill that only Kat could give her. And every time Bonita had subsequently run like hell. She was as captivated by Kat’s unbelievable beauty as the rest of the world, but she had never been fooled into believing her harmless facade.
Bonita stepped forward and took the hand Kat offered. Desire juxtaposed with fear rushed through her. It was a heady mix, especially when it was followed by the sure knowledge that nothing short of nuclear war could stop them from making love.
Match lit.
Buy GIRL TROUBLE from:
AMAZON
B&N
SAMHAIN PUBLISHING
About Miranda Baker:
It makes me chuckle to think about all the romantic short stories I wrote in my rather too literary creative writing classes in college. If only one of my professors had steered me toward popular fiction! On the other hand, if I had discovered my calling back then, I wouldn’t have gone to culinary school, I wouldn’t have met my husband, we wouldn’t have had three children and I wouldn’t have turned to erotic romance to get my mojo back during all this hair-raising kid raising.
If you’d like to chat more, please visit:
My den of iniquity http://www.mirandabaker.com
My home away from home https://www.facebook.com/MirandaBakerfans
My favorite hangout https://twitter.com/Miranda_Baker
Thanks for visiting me today, and thanks to Delilah for having me! I hope you’ll share a comment and enter my GIRL TROUBLE birthday giveaway!
