Delilah Devlin's Blog, page 446
August 2, 2013
Guest Blogger: Taige Crenshaw
There is a subtle rhythm that beats when you read. One you probably don’t even notice it.
From that first word of any book you read it pulls you in and takes you on a journey. Each step gives you various beats that resonate with you. That first blush of meeting and the little catch that you get when you read it. The foray of the characters as they do that dance of seduction, which keeps your heart racing as you wonder when will they will do it or will they at all. Then when they do, your pulse skyrockets with each kiss, caress and thrust as they come together.
Then you go on the journey of their affair. The up rhythms of them getting to know each other after the sexual encounter. A laugh at their antics, which makes your body move in time with them. That little sound you make as something they do pleases you. The humph as they act the fool. The sway as you enjoy this journey that makes you go up then down and all around. When that obstacle comes and your fist clenches while your heart wonders how can they fix this and the tears fall with the person most devastated after that moment. Then ultimately the triumph they get when they overcome it all to be together. Your soul rejoices and you love it. Once done you exhale and that dance is done at least until the next time.
All this is rhythm that comes from within. One that is individual as each of you. No two rhythms you feel are the same. Heck when you reread the book, the rhythm changes. I love reading books and how it makes the rhythm of my soul move. And this is what I work for when I write. A rhythm that will resonate in a reader. Make them become part of the fabric of the dance I am creating in my story.
As I write and the story progresses I feel the back beat of many rhythms that drive the story. Make it pulse in my soul as I put it on paper. I’ve been called everything from writer, author, storyteller and all the in between. I am all those things and so much more. Of all the names I’m called, I like to call myself … Rhythm Maker.
****
Taige Crenshaw is a multi-published author with books available at Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Liquid Silver Books, Loose Id, and Total-E-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.
Dark Callings
—When faced with your destined bond you either accept or face the consequences.
August 1, 2013
Catch me at Quixotic Orchid!
Today, I’m at Quixotic Orchid! She’s talking about Smokin’ Hot Firemen and her experience reading it! There’s a very short interview with me. And she’s offering a free copy of the printed book to one lucky commenter, so head on over there now!
July 31, 2013
Guest Blogger: Chandra Ryan
When I grow up I want to be a…
Hang on…I’m thinking. That’s a really big decision.
I’m just kidding. Actually, I’ve reached that age now where I am things. Which is kind of a weird realization when it hits you. You’re in college with the world open to you one day and the next you wake up and you suddenly are things. Wife, mother, and writer are the top three answers I give when people ask me what I am. There are, however, a million subsets to those answers. As any wife, mother, writer will tell you. I’m a housekeeper, a cook, an accountant (not a great accountant but I did do our taxes last year so I’m taking it), a crisis manager (two young boys, one house!), everyone’s personal assistant, and the resident taskmaster. Yep, a whip is constantly on my Christmas wish list but Santa hasn’t delivered yet. This is the year, though. I can feel it. I’ve been a very good girl all year long. I promise.
Still, as much as I love my life, every once in a while I see a help wanted ad and think, I could do that. I’ll fantasize about the life change for a couple of days and then dive back into whatever work-in-progress I’ve got going on. Things I’ve daydreamed about doing? Being a birth doula—I had one with the birth of my first son and Oh.My.God was she phenomenal. Also working in PR. Mainly for politicians and police departments. This usually happens when I see a story on the news that’s handled so poorly I know I could do a better job spinning it. Tends to go something like this, “Who goes on the news and says there’s no way to stop the current alien invasion? Your job is to foster hope and keep the masses from rioting. You say, “We’re looking into all avenues of diplomatic resolution available to us.””
Yes, that was made up. There is no alien invasion. Though that would make an awesome story. File that little mental ramble under stories for another day. But it does kind of bring me to the point. One of the things I love so much about being a writer is with each new story I get to recreate myself. I’m never going to be a rancher on a settler planet. But when I was writing Ulterior Motives, I got to think like one. I got to visualize what her life would be like, what challenges she’d face, and what she’d be looking for in that perfect mate. It’s what I love the most about writing. I get to think like another person in another life. And then, when I reach happily-ever-after, I get to return to the life that’s perfect for me.
Which is all fine and good. But what about this rancher, you ask?
Universal Defiance, Book One
On a rural settler planet, Kat must resort to putting out an ad to find a husband. She doesn’t expect to find love—that’s a dream in these parts—just a partner to help work her ranch. Then the devastatingly handsome Jasper answers her ad and turns her on in ways she never dreamed possible. Too bad he’s not who he says he is.
Jasper doesn’t know what he’s getting into when he ventures undercover to investigate a legal claim against Kat’s ranch. But after a toe-curling night under her roof and in her bed, he’s willing to do anything to stay there. He can’t say no to the tough-as-nails businesswoman who makes his body come alive.
When people start getting hurt, though, both Kat and Jasper have to decide how valuable one piece of land is. And the ranch that brought them together might be the very thing standing between them.
A Romantica® sci fi erotic romance from Ellora’s Cave
Buy links:
When he opened the door to the guestroom, though, the blaring of an alarm stopped him from going any farther. At first he thought he’d somehow triggered the noise but as soon as he smelled the first wisps of smoke, understanding filled him. Something was on fire. He wanted to rush out into the safety of the open grounds but he fought against the instinct. He had to make sure Kat got out as well.
He raced back to the bathroom to find her standing in the hallway, wrapped in nothing but a towel, with her dark hair flung over one shoulder in a curly mess. There were no tears or hysterical rants despite the fear clearly reflected in her expression.
His job required him to make quick assessments of situations and he excelled at it. But sometimes that left him blind to the more subtle aspects of life. He’d seen a competent businesswoman when he’d first laid eyes on Katarina Maxim. She’d been nothing but efficient and practical from the moment she held her hand out to him. But now, as she shivered in front of him with alarms going off in the background, he realized how much he’d missed in that original assessment. He’d seen her as a businesswoman but the person standing in front of him now possessed so much more.
The vulnerability of the moment and her calm resolve in meeting it added to her strength and touched him.
“I came to find you as soon as I heard the alarm.”
“Most men would’ve gone to battle the blaze first.”
His heart sank at her words. She saw him as a coward. Not that it mattered how she saw him. He wasn’t really trying out for the role of her husband. As soon as he finished his report, he’d be on his way back to his real life. But her words still stung. He’d like to be the hero at least once. To be the one who rushed in and saved the day.
“Don’t look at me like I just kicked your damn puppy. I meant that as a compliment. Most men stupidly let their hormones control them and they tend to get in the way,” she added as she walked past him. “I’ve never been impressed with the gender as a whole.”
He felt fairly certain they did not share the same understanding of the word “compliment” but didn’t dare ask for a clarification as she bustled down the hallway all businesslike.
Author Links:
Website: http://www.chandraryan.com/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/chandra.ryan
Twitter: @ChandraRyan
Bio:
Being from a rather nomadic family, Chandra Ryan loves to travel and meet people. But she’s found that sometimes, like when you’re stuck inside because of a good old-fashioned Southwestern heat wave, you have to make do. Fortunately for her and her loving family, who don’t like seeing her suffer from cabin fever, she’s found creating new people and places equally as fascinating. Also, you’re a lot less likely to spill your ice tea.
July 30, 2013
Catching up with CRESCENT MOON…
I’ve been neglectful. Granted, I’ve had a bucketload of releases lately, so I can understand how you missed this one. Good thing is, this is a story that keeps fresh thanks to a lovely new innovation by Amazon. Crescent Moon is a Kindle Serial. What is that, you might ask? Kindle Serials are stories published in episodes, with future episodes delivered at no additional cost. Four episodes of my serial have already released, and another will be ready in a day or two. New episodes are delivered every two weeks.
Something to look forward to every two weeks. How fun is that? And as for the book… You know it’s going to be sexy, right? Add mummies coming back to life, Nile crocodiles inhabiting the canals of New Orleans, and an Egyptian god or two lurking in the darkness, and you have to know what happens, right? Khepri has been resurrected to fight an ancient evil. Armed with knowledge of the modern world that she can access like an encyclopedia, she still has difficulty relating everything she knows to what she experiences. Her attraction to one particular man is most concerning.
Here’s a mockup of the print cover. When all the installments are published, the book will be issued in its entirety in print for those of you who must have paper. Pretty, isn’t it? 
I hope you’ll give my story a good look. I love Khepri and Justin Henry Boucher, her exasperated New Orleans detective/protector. Here’s a little taste of the sexy…
Excerpt from Crescent Moon…
“You should wait for someone special, cher. I’m too rough around the edges. Too old for you.”
“How old are you?”
“Thirty-five.”
Her mouth curved. Age was not an issue. She’d been born millennia ago. “I will defer to greater wisdom, and let you choose how we do this, Justin Henry Boucher.”
His hand curved around hers, which lightly gripped him. For a second, she thought he would push her away again, but the hesitation was followed by his fingers squeezing around hers, firming her grip to ride the long column up and down. The soft cotton separating her fingers from the evidence of his desire was no barrier at all.
As they glided together, their breaths deepened. “I want to see you,” he said, his gravely tone deepening.
“A light,” she said. “Something soft.”
He withdrew and she sat up on the mattress as he strode away. The bathroom light ignited. He disappeared inside for a long moment, the sound of a drawer opening then sliding closed. Silence followed, and then he pulled the door partway closed after he reentered the bedroom. Just enough light remained to see the grim set of his jaw, the wildness in his eyes.
Khepri liked the hint of violence restrained in his flexing, bare chest. Her gaze trailed downward to his undergarment—shorts, the word echoed inside her head. “Remove them, please,” she said, her voice thin, high . . . nearly breathless.
His mouth curved up at the corners. His fingers tucked into the waistband and he shoved the shorts down his thighs until they fell to the floor. Then he stood still while she stared.
“Turn,” she said, sliding her legs over the side of the mattress.
When he turned sideways, light gleamed on the taut skin stretched by his burgeoning erection.
“I never thought a man’s part could be beautiful. Of course, I’ve seen men naked . . .” Something thin was stretched over him. She fingered the edge.
“It’s a condom,” he said.
Condom. Sheath. Birth control. Something inside her cringed. Still she touched him, noting the thin sheath did little to prevent her enjoyment of the silky feel of his skin, the heat emanating from his core. Her fingers encircled him, but her thumb didn’t meet her longest fingertip. “Are all men made like you?”
“You aimin’ to find out?”
She liked the hard edge of his voice. It hinted at possessiveness. But she didn’t want to anger him. “I’m thinking that if it’s true, then I needn’t worry we’ll . . . fit.” She glanced up and caught a flare of heat in his dark blue gaze. And because she wanted to see that flare again, she stood, pulled the top of her pajamas over her head, and then pushed the bottoms off her hips. He’d already seen her nude, no surprises there, but she wanted nothing between them. Not fabric. Not space.
She stepped closer. Moisture glazed her belly, but she didn’t look down as her gaze locked with his. She’d seen wetness glinting on the tip of his sex. Her gaze greedily followed his as he glanced down, attention narrowing on the mound of her sex and sweeping upward to snag on her breasts.
Cupping them, she lifted both, offering herself. “My body burns for you, deep inside.” With quick flicks, she thumbed her nipples. “These ache for your kiss. Please, Juste. Take me.”
His jaw tightened, his nostrils flared. When he moved, his hands cupped the notches of her hips and drew her closer. “Last chance. Tell me to go, sweetheart.”
She smiled, moisture filling her eyes. “I have no desire to send you away. Take me. Teach me. I am yours.”
Juste held her hips and stood there, damning himself for being weak. If she didn’t change her mind and quick, he was going to fuck her—every way he’d imagined since he’d roamed his hands over her soft skin while he’d bathed her.
Ever since her bath, he’d been hard and horny. Sick in his belly because he knew he was all wrong for her. She was his responsibility. And whether she was truly innocent, or simply couldn’t remember the last time she’d had a man, or was outright lying about the fact, he shouldn’t be here. Not with his dick slicking her belly and his hands curling around her trim hips.
Worse, he was too far gone to even be gentle. When she’d nuzzled his neck, he’d seen images of him taking her, from behind, from on top, her legs wrapped around his waist and then his neck . . .
Then and there, he’d known he was a goner. Hell, he’d been resigned since he’d turned off the bathroom light and headed to the bed with a rubber coating him, instead of heading straight to the couch.
He wasn’t a gentleman. Wasn’t good, not deep inside. Lately, he was ruled by his anger and his lust. And he was angry with her for tempting him. And lust? Sweet fuck, he couldn’t look at her fingering her own nipples without being jealous he wasn’t the one giving her that pleasure.
It was inevitable—her being in his bed, him staking his claim, driving deep. Once he’d discovered her in that crate and unwrapped her like a present, like a gift from God, he’d been lost.
Lost his damn mind. No turning back.
He picked her straight up by the waist and turned. Her legs bent as they met the mattress, and he crawled onto the bed, his knees on either side of her thighs and hips, his hands still clutching her, shoving her not so gently toward the center of the mattress.
Her gaze never left his face. If she’d blinked or shown a moment’s fear, he’d have reared back and fled. But she met his gaze, boldly fascinated, dipping to his mouth then back up, an invitation he was accepting.
When he had her where he needed her on the bed, he eased down, blanketing her lithe, supple form, his hard contours crushing hers until he came up on his elbows.
Her fingers tracked the edge of his jaw.
In his mind, he saw them flirting with the flared edge of his corona. “I have to have you,” he growled, his groin tightening painfully as he resisted the urge to grind against her tender belly.
“It is . . . inevitable,” she whispered. “Amun’s will.”
Fuck, she felt it too. “So don’t bother fightin’?” he muttered.
Her smile was very nearly a smirk.
“What are you playin’ at?” He narrowed his gaze.
“I’m not playing. But you are worrying too much about what this means.” Her finger traced his bottom lip. “Relax. Give yourself. Find your pleasure. Help me find mine.”
Her pleasure. She was a virgin. Maybe. He groaned and closed his eyes, forcing out the words through a tight jaw. “I don’t know how to do this.”
She laughed softly. “That I don’t believe. You are too beautifully made. Women must follow you home.”
“Not talkin’ about . . . lovemaking,” he said, wincing because he’d nearly called it something else. “Making love” wasn’t part of his normal vocabulary. But then, the women he brought home knew the score. And if they hoped he’d call back, well . . . he was sorry, but he didn’t do repeats. Those got sticky, and he didn’t like sticky.
So what the hell are you doing, you horny bastard?
Juste knew he was entering dangerous territory. The last thing he wanted was to hurt the girl, but he didn’t see any way around it. If he couldn’t have her, he’d die. Just once.
He snorted because already his mind was leaping ahead to the next encounter, and the next . . .
Rather than keep thinking thoughts that shook him to his core, he lowered his head. His lips met hers and that spark he’d felt before, the one he’d pretended didn’t matter, shivered through his frame, sparking the top of his spinal cord and shooting straight down his back. His groin drew up, balls tucking tightly against his body. And good lord, his dick had never ached this badly.
Her slim, long-fingered hands soothed the back of his neck, and he realized his mouth had frozen atop hers. He hadn’t kissed her so much as mashed his mouth against hers. Not that she seemed to mind. Her wide eyes stared back; the stiff tips of her breasts poked him.
Juste drew a deep breath, called on what little control he had left, and angled his head, aligning their noses. He’d show her how this was supposed to be done—even if it killed him to go slow.
He rubbed her mouth gently, eating at her lips, his tongue sneaking inside her mouth as she gasped in surprise. He nearly smiled, but continued exploring. He discovered her mouth was softer than any he’d ever kissed, and that she tasted just right. Sweet, but not too sweet. His tongue swept inside, teasing hers, gliding and thrusting like he wanted to do below. To his great surprise, she quickly reciprocated, mimicking his actions, even to the soft suctioning he began against her mouth.
He cradled her head, liking the added control and the fact his fingers tangled in her thick, warm hair. “Ain’t you ever been kissed?” he growled.
“By you,” she nodded. “Right now.”
He shook his head, but believed her. She was a quick study, but the shocked gasps and the way she followed his every action proved her innocence. Which caused his heart to thud against his chest.
Dread settled in the bottom of his belly. If he did this, if he took what she so enthusiastically offered, he couldn’t just walk away. He’d be bound. Not for life or anything, but to making sure she stayed safe, that she was happy when he left. He couldn’t get up off the bed and wash her off his skin the same way he had every other woman he’d played with. Somehow, he didn’t think he’d forget her as fast.
Again, he sank, trailing his mouth along the jut of her jaw, then smoothing his lips down her neck, lifting on his hands and knees to scoot lower, knees spreading to clamp around her thighs, her knees, and then arriving, at last, with his head hovering over those hard-tipped, impudent little breasts.
He liked their pert, round shape, their youthful firmness. Liked the beige color of her nipples, just a shade or two darker than her golden skin. Smooth as velvet, their surface tickled his mouth as he circled, rubbing them over and over.
Her hands gripped his shoulders and squeezed, and his lips tightened in a feral smile. He knew what she wanted, even if she couldn’t form the thought. He fluttered his tongue at a rigid bead.
Beneath him, her belly quivered. Her back curved, forcing more of her breast against his mouth. But he pulled back, continuing to lick the tiny bud, ignoring the soft, keening moan she made, the fingertips digging into his skin.
When at last he latched onto her nipple and sucked, air hissed between her clenched teeth.
“Too much?” he asked, lifting his head to stare down at the reddening tip.
Gasping, she shook her head, a wildness in her eyes that matched his own galloping heart.
“Do you like it?”
“I’ve pinched them before, when I used that phallus . . .”
He grunted and gave her a scowl. “You gonna tell me this ain’t any better?”
“No.” Her eyes glittered with unshed tears. “This is so much more. My skin . . . Please, Justin.” She cupped her other breast and pushed it up, offering herself again.
Because his foster mama had raised a polite boy, he took what was offered and gave her back his silent gratitude, licking and sucking, tapping it with his tongue, before finally chewing gently until her belly undulated beneath him and her legs moved sinuously between his knees, trying to open.
Relenting, he raised one knee at a time while she slowly opened her thighs, letting him look down at the sweet sexy treasure she exposed. Juste went lower, kissing her belly, gliding his hands and his mouth down her smooth skin, pausing to plunder her navel, before going lower still. When he was level with her mound, her hand snuck between them and she cupped herself.
He glanced up, recognized the dawning shock for what it was. “I want this, Khepri. Swear you’ll like it.”
She shook her head, her mouth opening.
To give a protest, no doubt, but he bent, stuck out his tongue and licked at the seams of her clenched fingers, watching as her eyes grew smokier and darker, pupils dilating. At last, she spread her fingers, allowing him to tongue the tangy flesh she protected.
Prickles of awe at her trust, at the feeling this was as he’d suspected all along—more than he’d bargained for, more than just sex—raised gooseflesh on his arms. Something about her drew him in. Instinctively, he knew he’d be changed by sharing intimacy with her. Irrevocably.
The burning, insistent ache in his groin never eased, but he slowed again, savoring the journey. He cupped her harder, hugging her bottom, gliding his cheeks against her inner thighs. She was so wet and tasted like an ocean breeze. He growled and burrowed deeper, his nose and chin shoving away her fingers until only his mouth covered her pretty, nude pussy.
He drew her lips into his mouth and tugged and licked. Then stuck out his tongue to feather the edges of the pink inner lips. He didn’t miss her thinning breaths, the shivers that quaked her thighs, or the pulsing, involuntary clasping of her sex.
Cupping her bottom tenderly, he raised her. “Spread your thighs wider,” he said, his voice hoarse.
Without hesitation, she complied, the movement exposing her opening and stretching the thin membrane covering her clit. Glinting red and swelling, the round nub was impossible to resist. He glided his tongue over the smooth knot, ignoring her broken cries and the fingers pulling at his hair.
He licked and soothed until the thin hood receded entirely and his lips could close around the small nub. Then he suckled there, his tongue continuing to push against it inside his mouth. With a slow move, he snuck a single finger inside her, circling her opening, testing her acceptance of his intrusion.
Issuing a long sigh, Khepri raised her legs.
From the corner of his eyes, he watched them straighten, her toes curl.
Her back curved too, her head digging into the mattress while her hands cupped and caressed her breasts. She was so beautiful, so natural, not a false note or warble. When the shivering grew harder, he set her down and crawled up her body, letting his cock drag against the inside of one thigh as he came over her.
Her eyes were deep wells, her mouth wet and trembling. He kissed her lightly, then bit her lower lip. “Pay attention.”
Her mouth pursed and she blew out a breath. “Justin—”
“Cher, hold on tight.” He shook his head, cutting her off. “I’ll be gentle as I can.”
July 29, 2013
A quick note…
I was supposed to have a guest today, but I forgot to send Dakota Byrd a reminder, and she forgot all about me, too. So, it’s just me. If I can get hold of her, maybe she’ll be here tomorrow. 
I have a full day, so no time to chit-chat except in quick bites today. I wanted to remind you that Wednesday will be end of this month’s contest! There’s a $20 Amazon gift card up for grabs, so you still have time to enter. All you have to do is post comments. Easy, right?
I’ll leave you with a question, because I love reading your answers…
If you could skip one 60-minute time slot every day, which would it be?
For me, I start to drag around mid-afternoon, so I’d choose 2-3 PM.
July 28, 2013
Inspiration everywhere…and a question!
The family made a weekend trip to northern Arkansas in early June. I hadn’t had a chance to look through photos since, but today flipped through a few. One of my favorite parts of the trip was going through Blanchard Springs Caverns. I came away with lots of interesting shots like this one. Tons of pretty formations…
I didn’t expect to get this shot since I was using my little Canon PowerShot and it was on the far side of the cave, very high up, but this looks cool and mysterious right? Some think it looks like the Titanic. I think it’s Atlantis…
This is my favorite shot. It’s the only part of the caverns where I picked up orbs, which makes sense since its right near the mouth of the cave and people could have stumbled in, but wouldn’t have gotten too far in the dark before they expired. My little Canon is my ghost camera. I’ve posted shots I’ve taken before in haunted places, and she never fails to find the spirits lingering in the dark. If its dust or whatever floating in the air, how come I only ever see these things where you expect to see ghosts—and no where else, hmmm…?
If you’d like to see more orb shots, check out the links below. In Crescent 1, you will see more than just the orbs!
Crescent 1
Crescent 2
Seattle Underground
Same camera at Jesse James’ childhood home. See the image I caught in the glass? My daughter says it’s just a trick of sunlight and the trees. I think not. I’m a writer, where would I be if I always looked for a logical explanation? Couldn’t spirits manipulate the light and trees to send a message? I am here!
Do you believe in ghosts?
July 27, 2013
Snippet Saturday: A Long, Hot Summer
I’m late getting this posted today! If I haven’t mentioned it before, my daughter is expecting to give birth at any time. Last night, she thought she might be going into labor, so I stayed at her place babysitting dogs and cats and a kidlet, while she made another trip to the emergency room. It was a false alarm, but now we’re all wrung out.
Today, I thought I’d introduce you to the last of the Triple Horn Brand stories. Think Texas cowboys, a hot summer on a cattle ranch… The theme running through all the books is the fact the Triplehorn boys never, ever moved on from their first sweethearts. The books are a bit sweeter, and a couple of them involve women who were inappropriate matches back in the day, but they’ve all been given second chances to fall in love all over again. This last one even involves a little ménage play, something I know you love to see with these Texas cowboys.
Hope you enjoy the snippet. A Long, Hot Summer releases on August 13th, so you have time to read the other two books before diving into this one. If you’d like to go ahead and pre-order the book, click on the cover! I do a nice little wrap-up at the end of this book so you can see all the Happy-Ever-Afters…
If you post a comment today, you’ll be entered to win
a free download of one of the prequel books!
One shared past. One weekend to make things right—and make it last forever.
The TripleHorn Brand, Book 3
Sarah Colby has never quite managed to shake off the emotional scars her ex-husband left behind. Nor has she been able to shed the shame of the one indiscretion that still haunts her memories.
When she asks the Triplehorn Ranch for help to move her cattle to an auction, the man they send has her working double-time to shore up the walls around her heart. He’s older now, harder—and hotter—but he’s the same Tommy Triplehorn she couldn’t resist all those years ago.
Tommy couldn’t be happier that his brothers have settled down, but he’s feeling a little smothered by all the domesticity. At the same time, carousing and drinking no longer appeal—and he thinks he knows why. Sarah Colby.
He’s waited too long for her to get over being ashamed of what they shared. He’s old enough to know what he wants. It’s her, and he’s going to use every second of their time together to dismantle her resistance. Even if he has to call in a little backup.
Product Warnings:A cowboy on a mission to prove to the woman he loves that the only number that matters is the number of fantasies he’s willing to fulfill—even if it means sharing her for a night.
She forced herself to uncurl her fingers. What was she doing? Looking for problems? For judgment? Was she simply hoping to find a compelling reason to send Blake on his way like she’d done the past eight years with every other man who’d approached her since her husband’s untimely death?
Sarah forced herself to uncurl her hands in her lap. In any other situation, she’d have been comfortable, in charge. But here, knowing Blake wanted to marry her, that he’d expect intimacies at some point, left her cold inside.
A damaged heroine in a romance novel, she certainly was not, but she had been tainted by a violent man. Left untrusting and wary. Glad for a long while for her self-imposed celibacy.
Pretending ease with the man sitting across from her seemed an insurmountable task. Who was she fooling? Sooner or later, he’d make a move and she wasn’t entirely sure how she’d react. Would she flinch or lean away? Or simply freeze in place?
The more she considered the idea of intimacy with this man, the more the knot in her stomach hurt. The last thing Blake wanted was problems. He had his life mapped out. He hadn’t looked any further than skin deep to determine she was his next move.
So although he’d be disappointed in the short term, she knew she couldn’t string him along with hopes she’d learn to deal with a husband in her life and bed. Before the salads arrived, Sarah made her apologies and quietly excused herself, leaving a befuddled Blake without a clue what he’d done wrong.
She headed straight to her car, hat in her hand, not looking around the dark parking lot. A scuff of gravel sounded, and she instantly regretted waving Blake back into his chair when he’d offered to walk her out. She cupped her keys, spreading her fingers around three to use as a weapon.
“You didn’t stay for dinner,” came a quiet voice behind her. Smooth as whiskey. Achingly sweet. Tommy Triplehorn.
She tossed back her hair and glanced over her shoulder. “You didn’t stay for whatever…”
The corners of his mouth twitched. “My taste buds must be off. She was too sweet. What’s your excuse?”
Sarah blew out a breath and turned, facing the young man who had plagued her thoughts since their long-ago affair—no intention whatsoever of answering his question. “You’re looking good, Tommy.”
Lord, not the smart thing to say, but the plain unvarnished truth. Dark-brown hair worn short, thick shoulders and arms, thighs, heavily muscled… She darted her gaze back up before she exposed her fascination, only to linger on his handsome face. Age had carved maturity into his features, honed them to sharp-edged masculine lines. He presented an arresting picture, although she did miss the old softness in his now-piercing gaze.
A muscle along the edge of his jaw tightened. “When are you gonna face the truth, Sarah?”
She shook her head, swallowing down the hot lump that burned the back of her throat. “I have to go home,” she said hoarsely, turning and jamming her key into the lock, but scraping the paint on her car instead.
He stepped closer, pressing his body against her back and reached around to gently cup her hand until she released the keys. Then, pushing long enough she felt the tension in his tall frame, he unlocked her door and dangled her key ring until she grabbed for it.
Tommy planted his hands on either side of her and nuzzled her hair. “Ever ask yourself why it is I can do this, move into your space, touch you, without you goin’ cold as a block of ice?”
“No.” She wasn’t lying. The last thing she wanted was to remember. She kept the memory of how they’d been together closely guarded, even from herself.
“Didn’t think so. Or you wouldn’t have let all this time pass, even though we both know you belong to me.”
She shook her head. “I don’t belong to you. There is no you and me. We’re all wrong, Tommy.”
His head nodded, rubbing her cheek. “Because I was too young. But sweetheart, age stopped bein’ a good enough reason when I stopped bein’ a teenager.”
“We should never have—”
“Not then. I know it was a mistake. For you, anyway. I have no regrets. But there’s no good reason now.”
He nuzzled the corner of her neck and her knees quivered. She had to be strong. Good Lord, what if someone saw them like this? “Look at me Tommy,” she said staring at their reflections in the window. “Look at us. That’s why we don’t belong together.”
Tommy’s brows lowered as he stared into his reflection. “I don’t understand what it is you see that I don’t. If it’s age, that’s not good enough, Sarah. Not anymore. I’m sick and tired of pretendin’ I don’t care.”
She turned inside his arms and met his gaze with a steady one of her own. “You should respect my wishes. I told you no eight years ago. I haven’t changed my mind.”
Tommy leaned away, dropped his head and stared at his clenched hands for a long moment. When he raised his head again, his gaze bored into hers.
The weight of that steady stare settled in her core, and she shivered beneath the raw intensity of his expression.
“Hear me now, Sarah Colby. I’m not givin’ up on us. Everywhere you go, I’ll be there. Waitin’ for you to come to your senses.”
She scoffed, while inside a traitorous part of her body rejoiced. “You sound like you intend to be my stalker.”
“If that’s what it takes to make you understand I’m serious…”
Sarah shivered, hearing the conviction in his deep voice, reading the icy resolve in his gray eyes. The tender cowboy she’d known years ago had been replaced by a man with dangerous edges.
* * * * *
Be sure to check out the snippets on these other authors’ blogs:
Lauren Dane
Shelli Stevens
Leah Braemel
Jody Wallace
Caris Roane
Eliza Gayle
Lissa Matthews
Mandy M. Roth
McKenna Jeffries
Shiloh Walker
Taige Crenshaw
HelenKay Dimon
TJ Michaels
July 26, 2013
Guest Blogger: Myla Jackson (Contest)
Do you feel like you are several different people all wrapped up into one person? That life is pushing each of those persons in different directions and you can’t quite seem to bring them all together?
This has been my theme for the past few years. Especially since I started writing under two different pen names. I’m a wife, a mother, a grandmother and a business owner (not just writing). And I’m two different authors: Myla Jackson and Elle James.
Myla is my sexier, not afraid to try a ménage a trois and a little spanking and bondage type of gal who enjoys funny stories based around interesting characters and settings. While Elle likes to speed through stories blowing stuff up and riding in the fast lane of action and adventure.
What I find difficult sometimes is balancing the different sides of me. In order to satisfy my readers, I need to keep stories coming. Ask any author…it’s hard to keep writing enough stories to satisfy readers voracious appetites as one author. Try being two!
So how do I handle it? I write like my hair’s on fire!
Leave a comment about all of you for a chance to win
the prize package of one of my
Elle James books:
THE WITCH’S INITIATION
And I hope you enjoy the following blurb and excerpt from my most recent Myla Jackson release.
Boots and Roses
by Myla Jackson
Welcome back to the Ugly Stick Saloon!
Bunny Leigh really shouldn’t care that her ex is days away from getting remarried. Yet the fact he’s getting hitched to the woman he cheated on her with stings more than she cares to admit.
It’s that sting that drives her to impulsively throw a bid in the annual Ugly Stick Saloon Cowboy Auction. To her surprise, she lands not only one of the best-looking men in the tri-county area, but two. The prospect of keeping up with two younger men has the shy florist quaking in her flower pots.
Little does she know, best friends Cory McBride and Jack Monahan made doubly sure their favorite florist won them both. But now they have their work cut out for them, convincing her they want more than one steamy night. They want a chance at forever.
Warning: A cop, a cowboy and a flower shop owner make the petals fly! And look what happens when the Ferris wheel stops at the top. Bring a fan, the heat’s rising at the Ugly Stick Saloon.
Samhain Publishing | Barnes & Noble Nook | Amazon Kindle | Kobo
Coming once, coming twice…SOLD!
© 2013 Myla Jackson
For forty-five minutes, Bunny left the paddle on the bar, refusing to give in to her loneliness and bid on a paid-for pity date. One by one the men paraded around the stage, women bid and the gavel banged. One by one the chance for a date passed and Bunny slipped deeper into a blue funk.
Her lips still tingled from the contact with Cory’s and Jack’s, and she raised her hand to touch her mouth. No vibrator had affected her as much as those earth-shaking kisses. Once again, Bunny considered Audrey’s words. Maybe it was time for her to get out in the dating pool again and give love a second chance.
“Hold on to your belt buckles, ladies,” Charli said with a flourish. “Here to introduce the final act, the woman who made the Cowboy Auction possible, Audrey Anderson.”
Audrey stepped up on the stage with Deputy Monahan holding her arm. The owner of the Ugly Stick Saloon took the microphone from Charli and faced the crowd, her face straight, serious.
Ladies, it’s been brought to my attention that we’ve had several instances of sexual misconduct against our own Deputy Jack Monahan. I ask you to please keep your hands to yourself and respect the man who was brought here to keep the peace.”
One woman yelled, “Boo!”
The room full of women joined her, all shouting, “Boo!”
Bunny smiled. If she wasn’t mistaken, Audrey had something up her sleeve and she was playing the audience.
Audrey winked. “Oh, so you like playing dirty?”
As one, the women yelled, “Hell, yeah!”
“Then let’s raise the stakes. For the first time in Cowboy Auction history, we’re offering up a two-fer.”
The ladies roared their approval.
Despite her resolve to remain unaffected by the goings on in the saloon, Bunny leaned forward, a tingle of anticipation rippling through her body. Cory hadn’t been offered up for auction yet and he’d hinted at a surprise. Was this it?
“All our cowboys have been fabulous sports about this auction, but the last bidding opportunity we’re offering tonight is special and near and dear to my heart. Please welcome the two-fer deal of Cory ‘The stripper so hot you’ll singe your fingers’ McBride…”
Cory danced out on the stage, wearing a vest, boots and leather chaps over a black G-string. The only thing not showing was his package, and it was swelled enough to give every woman enough information to go on. The man was hung.
Bunny sucked in a breath and held it while her pulse pounded so loud she could barely hear herself think. Her deliveryman had been in her sex dreams and fantasies more and more often lately. Now this… Holy smokin’ cowboys!
Audrey continued, “The other half of this dynamic duo is our very own man of peace, Deputy ‘Pull over and let me frisk you’ Jack Monahan!” Audrey handed the microphone back to Charli.
Deputy Monahan joined Cory center stage, slipping his uniform shirt off, exposing shoulders as broad as Cory’s and equally tanned and gleaming with a fine layer of oil.
Holy rock stars! Between the Adonis blond beauty that was Cory and the dark, rugged sex appeal of Jack, Bunny could barely breathe.
The crowd exploded in a frenzy, all the paddles raising in the air as the bidding started.
Bunny perched on the edge of her stool, her body trembling.
The two men danced around the stage in sync to bump-and-grind music barely audible over the cacophony of women yelling and whistling.
Bidding started at five hundred dollars and shot up from there.
Not that I’m interested in bidding. Bunny mentally calculated what she had in her bank account.
Audrey handed the numbered paddle to Bunny. “I’ll match you dollar for dollar.” She shrugged. “I won’t keep one of them, but I want to contribute to the cause. This way I can, and Jackson won’t have heartburn about it.”
“I can’t bid on those two. I wouldn’t know what to do with one man, much less two!”
Audrey’s brows rose. “Seriously? Oh, honey, you really do need to get out more often. Did I ever tell you about the day I danced for Jackson, Mark and Luke on Jackson’s thirtieth birthday?” She tugged at the front of her shirt. “And I don’t mean two-stepping.” Audrey fanned herself. “Making me hot just thinkin’ about it.”
“Audrey, you’re much more free-spirited. I’m…I’m…” Bunny glanced down at the paddle in her hand. “Not.”
A soft hand rested on Bunny’s shoulder and Audrey leaned close. “How do you know if you’ve never tried to be?”
Bunny shrugged. “I’ve always focused on getting my business going, getting my finances straight—”
“Puttin’ your lousy ex-husband through school. Yeah, I can see where that gotcha.” Audrey shook her head. “That’s all well and good when it comes to running a business, but what about givin’ yourself a second chance at love?”
“I don’t need a second chance. Once was bad enough. I don’t think I’m ready to float that boat again.” Although the two men on the stage could more than set her sails. Holy hell, they were built like brick houses, all muscle—hard, finely chiseled muscle.
“If not for love, then date for fun or a release from stress.” Audrey threw her hand in the air.
Why not satisfy your sexual fantasies? Anything to get you out of your shell, girlfriend.”
“One thousand dollars!” Charli shouted into the microphone. “Ladies, this is twice the spice for the money. Don’t stop now.” She nodded toward the throng. “One thousand one hundred from number forty-one.”
“A thousand dollars?” Bunny did the math in her head. “I’d have to sell a lot of roses to afford those two.”
“Raise your paddle. Remember, I’ll double whatever you can afford.”
Even as Bunny shook her head, her fingers tightened around the paddle’s wooden stick. “I can’t.”
“Yes. You can. It’s just a date,” Audrey insisted. “Think about what Cory can do with that whip. And Jack has handcuffs.”
Cory cracked the whip, and number thirty-seven raised her paddle, bumping the bid up another one hundred dollars.
Bunny’s heartbeat accelerated. She had over two grand in savings for a rainy day and maybe to pay off her ex when she got a little more saved. That money was not earmarked for a hot date with two sexy men.
It still galled her to no end that Ray got half of her business in the divorce, Texas being a community property state. Out of the “goodness of his heart” Ray had let her keep the flower shop, as long as she paid him for his half over time, as a loan. He never let her forget it either, always giving her his unwanted opinion on how to run the flower shop. Spending so much money on a date would have him questioning her ability to stay in business. He might even foreclose on his loan.
“Going once,” Charli said.
“What?” Bunny’s breath caught and she leaned so far forward on her stool she almost slid off.
“Going twice.” Charli paused. “They’re a steal at twelve hundred dollars. Come on ladies, won’t one of you bid thirteen hundred?”
Bunny’s hand shook, her grip clenching on the paddle. Before she could analyze her actions, she raised her paddle.
“Is that Bunny Leigh back there near the bar?” Charli shielded her eyes from the glare of the stage lights. “Y’all gonna let Temptation’s best florist go home with the two most drool-worthy men in the county?”
Cory and Jack stared across the room, straight at Bunny, both smiling.
Her pulse accelerated until she thought for certain her heart would jump right out of her chest. Her gaze panned the room, praying someone else would raise a paddle quickly before she bought the cowboy and the cop.
Charli grinned, and before anyone else could get a paddle above shoulder-high, she pounded her gavel on the podium and shouted, “Sold!”
Myla Jackson/Elle James’s Bio:
Myla Jackson aka Elle James spent twenty years livin’ and lovin’ in South Texas, ranching horses, cattle, goats, ostriches and emus. A former IT professional, Myla/Elle is proud to be writing full-time, penning intrigues and paranormal adventures that keep her readers on the edge of their seats. She has 39 works with Harlequin, self published works under pen name Elle James, over 40 works with other publishers including Samhain, Elloras’ Cave, Kensington and Avon and 18 works self-published under pen name Myla Jackson. Now living in northwest Arkansas, she isn’t wrangling cattle, she’s wrangling her muses, a malti-poo and yorkie. When she’s not at her computer, she’s traveling, out snow-skiing, boating, or riding her ATV, dreaming up new stories.
Social Media:
Myla Jackson Website | Blog | Facebook | Twitter
ELLE JAMES Website | Blog | Facebook | Twitter | GoodReads
July 25, 2013
Guest Blogger: Charlotte Copper
I AM A PARANORMAL ROMANCE WRITER AND PROUD OF IT!! And when people say that vampire romance – or werewolf romance, or pick-your-paranormal romance- is dying out, I wonder what other band wagons those people jump on and off of. Do these people follow whatever team is winning at the time?
I read paranormal romance for two reasons: 1) I like romance because I like the “happily ever after”, and 2) I often find normal romances a little boring, and the paranormal aspect gives the story that extra twist and edge. (And if you want your books really edgy, try reading an erotic paranormal romance!)
Don’t misunderstand me, there is nothing wrong with non-paranormal romance, it’s just not my personal favorite.
Does this mean I won’t read a book without a supernatural element? Of course not. I’m really enjoying the latest explosions of dystopia and steampunk….neither which are new, just finally getting the exposure they deserve. I also have some plain old-fashioned Nora Roberts romances on my shelf (although I have to say, they have been sitting there, unread, for awhile.)
Anne Rice’s Interview With The Vampire came out in 1976!! Kelley Armstrong’s first Otherworld story Bitten was released in 2001. I read paranormal then, and I’m reading it now. Yes, some fads come and go, but for real paranormal romance fans, these dark and interesting heroes and heroines will stick around.
And since they say it is best to write about what you know….I write paranormal romance. My first book, Silver Blade, is an e-novella published by The Wild Rose Press, and it is about Oz McAvoy, a demon hunter. His supernatural edge is just what my heroine, the sexy and attractive Angela Knight needs in her life.
So, how about you…do you like your romance spiced up with a little bit of the supernatural? Let me know, or just leave a comment in general.
I’ll be giving away a pdf copy of Silver Blade to two readers randomly selected from all of those who leave a comment for me on the blogs I visit during my tour. (Visitors can have multiple entries if they comment at more than one blog. Dates & sites for my tour can be found on my website.)
Here is an excerpt from my proudly-paranormal romance, Silver Blade:
“You’re a stripper?” Oz sounded surprised. “Hot. Very hot.”
Yes, it certainly was. Why did he have this effect on her? She opened her window a little more. “I was for all of about three days. I didn’t go to Vegas planning to be a stripper, but it was easy work and paid well. At least I thought so until I found out the extra things my boss wanted me to do. So I quit. I was auditioning for one of the casino shows when an opportunity came up. The casino wanted attractive girls who were smart enough to deal blackjack while wearing a bra and chaps, and who could still concentrate while being hit on a hundred times a night. Pays good; tips are great.”
“Hot and smart. Nice combination. Pull in up there.”
Angela turned at the nameless grey mailbox and began the short trip down the dirt drive. The tiny farmhouse sat lonely, surrounded by an empty expanse of grass and then forest. She pulled to a stop in front of the small two-story structure.
“Look, Angel, I would love to invite you in right now for lunch, but after that stripper story and watching you walk around in those jeans and boots all morning, I have to be honest—food is the last thing on my mind.”
Angela’s gaze fell to Oz’s lap. His obvious erection fought against the green hospital pants. She chewed her lip as she glanced back up to meet unabashed lust in his eyes. Forget being held in his arms, she ached to feel his powerful hands all over her body. Desire warmed between her legs.
She turned off the engine and opened her door. “Luckily, I think lunch is the most overrated meal of the day.”
~*~*~*~*~*
I’ll be giving away a pdf copy of Silver Blade to two readers randomly selected from all of those who leave a comment for me on the blogs I visit during my tour. (Visitors can have multiple entries if they comment at more than one blog. Dates & sites for my tour can be found on my website.)
Silver Blade is available from Wild Rose Press at http://bit.ly/14E2JUg
Or through Amazon at http://amzn.to/10EnetM
You can contact/follow Charlotte at the following:
Charlottecopper.author@gmail.com
July 24, 2013
Guest Blogger: Alisa Anderson
So right now as we speak I am in the middle of a cross-country move. My landlord decided to list her house for sale and gave us the opportunity to get out of our lease early. So the good news was that we saved thousands of dollars by leaving almost two whole months early. The bad news? We were leaving two whole freaking months early. You ever try that shit with two 7 year olds, two dogs and a cat? Yep. Every inch the freaking nightmare it sounds. Plus, suddenly, we had all of three weeks to get pack and get out instead of the almost three months we originally had. Which also meant since my roommate had to give her job proper notice, we still had six weeks left here in the state we were moving from, so we decided to cut costs and move into an extended stay. Super fun, lemme tell ya.
So…my mom volunteers to take the boys to make some of the move easier and even though honestly they truly were the biggest help picking up books and moving them for me, having to deal with entertaining them in the tiny little hotel room with which we are currently residing just would not have been fun. After much back and forth, we decided to each drive five hours to meet each other and make the drop. Um. So to speak. *grins*
In the midst of it all my oldest pup Asher, who’s not really a pup, but will always be my baby boy, decides it would be fun to ingest rat poison. Oh, and not just one tray of it. Try three. While we were moving and getting rid of furniture in the garage, totally forgot we had it down because typically he’s not roaming in that area. He was that day. And had it not been for my oldest son who noticed it, we would never have been any the wiser. Not to mention I helped things right along by dismissing it saying he ate something else, since OF COURSE if he HAD consumed it, he’d be, like dead immediately, right?
WRONG. SO VERY, VERY WRONG. *sighs again*
Apparently this type of poison operates as a one big giant blood thinner for rats, I guess. They eat it, they go away and a couple of days later, and ummm….basically, they bleed to death. It’s rather gross, actually. So you can imagine what it does to dogs. Basically the same thing. And since he was super awesome enough to eat three…well….you can do the math.
If you guess fun times had by all…you’d be so right. So right it’s scary. You must have ESP.
O_0
Yeah.
So. Because he’s not the size of a rat obviously, it’s not going to affect him immediately, which is what we were looking for. We thought we were in the clear since a few days went by and he seemed fine. And all joking aside, if anyone has this happen to their dog or cat, please understand the worst thing you can do is wait.
Long story short, few days later, he stopped eating, pretty much lost all interest in anything, because at this point he was bleeding out and no one knew it. He finally collapses and we think he’s dead, and we’re all sobbing hysterically, until wait, he lifts his head. My mother tells us to get him to the hospital where they tell us he doesn’t look good. Humans and animals need to have a red blood cell count of around 45-50%. 9% is pretty terminal. His was 10%.
His only shot was vitamin k and a blood transfusion to give the vitamin k time to work and make his blood clot, since the poison pretty much destroys your ability to make vitamin k, and even then it’s no promise he was going to make bit. Thank god my sister, aka his fairy godmother had a credit card and a bleeding heart (pun intended) and paid the gazillion dollars required to keep him overnight give him the transfusion. Thank the lord he only needed one because since I’m not a bestselling author YET, I truly don’t know what I would have done.
But I digress. My dog made it, and is sitting next to me right now recovering very slowly. Plenty of rest, no stress, no movement unless needed. Large doses of vitamin k to help his blood clot. Right in the middle of my move, right? Yup. And of course our hotel room is the last damn room down the hall and the poor guy walks practically a freaking mile every day.
Every time I want to complain about my situation, including the fact that I was supposed to be using this time to work on book three of the give & receive series, including the fact that when I pulled out my computer to work on said book, my cat steps on my keyboard and totals my hard drive, destroying everything I didn’t back up in the past year (see this http://slingwords.blogspot.com/2013/02/alisa-anderson-keep-backup-copy.html where my past self warned my future self about this very thing, and I neglected to listen)….I smile serenely (or at least pretend to) and look at him.
My back may hurt from the crappy hotel bed, but bleeding internally pretty much trumps everything. And if you knew him, you’d know that’s the look he was giving me. Like…oh, sweet bitch. Spare me the bullshit.
And I get it. Asher has forgiven me for being stupid and allowing rat poison to be placed in my home.
So…I suck it up. And decide to be grateful, that at least I email myself my work, even if I stopped when the move got crazy. So maybe I did learn something.
*clears throat and looks at nails*
Just not everything, I guess.
How’s your summer going, kids?
What would you risk, to get what you wanted ?
For Ty, Lena and Danny, they’re about to find out as they cross the boundaries from all things safe to an arena that will test love, friendship and loyalty. An arena that’s forbidden, taboo…and oh so tempting. In their world sex, money and excess are all a game of give & receive, were any wish can be granted if you just ask…
Lena Blake: Life was supposed to have gone back to normal. After all…It’s been months since that night at Sadist. Months of reliving, remembering, experiencing…each moment. Over and over again. Oh yeah, she remembered. Every. Vivid. Illicit. Detail. Like it was yesterday. What she did. Who she did it with. Her best friend. And Danny…the one who had carved out her heart years ago. There to witness it all. An act so public, so voyeuristic, so forbidden, she was still feeling the intensity between them all. The lines were crossed now. There was no going back. Not even if she wanted to.
If she were honest she would admit she didn’t…
Tyler Malone : I knew I risked a lot doing what I did. I risked my friendship, with the one person I trusted and loved most of all, even if she can’t…or won’t see it. I played a dangerous game with Blake, too, but he either needs to step up…or step back. I put everything on the line for just one night. And hell yeah, it was worth it. She’s worth everything. I love her just as much as he does, maybe more, since I accept everything about her, even her love for him. Life is all about the chances you take. To succeed you have to gamble. Play big…or go home. And I play to win. At all costs…
Danny Blake: Seeing her that night with Ty, watching her come undone, made me realize for the first time the life I could have. I saw her. Really saw her, body and soul, and I know now, the ache for her never truly went away. It only intensified over the years, with a need bordering on obsession. My one addiction I could never get clean of. I need her like air.
In the high stakes game of give & take, you have to risk everything.
Winner takes all…and to the victor goes the spoils.
Book II of the Erotic Romance Novella Series, Give & Receive.
Excerpt:
“Come with me, Lena.”
“No.” Yet her fingers continued moving, unhurried and restrained as she fought for control.
“Your mouth is so warm…so wet. Take it all, baby…suck it. Just like that. I’m spilling pre-come all over my hands, Lena. It’s all for you. I wish you were here to lick it off. Why are you fighting this?”
“I’m not listening.” Her breath caught, and her fingers still continued to have a mind of their own as they slid in between the walls of her pussy, caressing her clit, sliding over the slick folds.
Traitorous sluts, her fingers. Every blasted one of the little monsters.
Couldn’t trust them worth a damn. They did whatever they wanted.
“Yes, you are. And you’re getting yourself wet with the thought of me pushing my cock into your mouth. Sucking it off for me. Tasting my come. Knowing you’re responsible for getting me this way. You’re enjoying the control and you should, love. I know from experience. It’s a heady trip, isn’t it?”
He heard her breathing increase in pace over the phone.
“Would it be so wrong to admit, just this once, I turn you on? That this, whatever it is, gets you off?” Ty’s voice strained as he struggled to manage his emotions. If he could wait just a little bit longer, he knew it would be big. He knew she was ready to break soon. He wanted to be there with her. Every step of the way.
“Fine. You turn me on. This. Turns me on. Ridiculously. Satisfied?” Lena felt her nipples harden through her shirt and she had to feel them under her palm. She twisted her left nipple, painfully, maliciously and she whimpered out loud. Not enough. Like an itch she couldn’t scratch, her fingers, her hands…weren’t enough.
She needed him.
“Tell me what you taste like. Tell me now.” Her voice was low…sexy personified, deep, as she pinched her clit and shivered at the light sting.
“Salty…sweet, slightly bitter. Just like you said. How did you know?”
Lena gave a dark, husky laugh full of promise. It made his balls draw up and tighten as his cock continued to pulse and throb under his tutelage.
“I’m just that good.”
“Modest too.”
She had to take a breath before she answered. Liquid heat ran down her thighs as she caught another breath before answering.
“Oh come now, love. Modesty is for people who can’t deliver the goods. And we both know that’s not true, don’t we?” She savored the exquisite torture of her fingers, now thoroughly wet and buried deep inside her pussy.
“It’s too bad you’re not here with me, Ty.” Lena’s voice became breathy as she stroked her clit with increased rhythm. She was wild with need now, beyond caring about anything but how she felt, how gloriously, amazingly wanton she felt.
“Do you know what I would do if you were? I would straddle you between my breasts. Sliding that big, thick cock up and down, getting slick with all that come. Lapping up every bit of spill from your thighs and your chest. Making my nipples slippery with your come. Rubbing myself all over you. And then…are you still with me, gorgeous? I would sink down on top of that hard stick of yours and take you inside. I’m so tight, Ty. Can you feel how tight I am?”
“Sweet fuck you are tight. It’s like I almost can’t fit.”
“I’ve done my pussy push-ups, Ty. So glad you noticed.”
“Pussy push-ups? Oh god. I can’t. Ahahaha…Please stop.” Ty’s laughter sounded gravelly and painful as he struggled not to pass out. Only she could make him laugh at the same time he wanted to fuck her into oblivion. She would find every live wire on him triggered to detonate at her slightest touch. She really would be that fucking good.
Damn her infuriating ass, straight to hell. She thought she had this all under control, didn’t she?
Clearly he needed to shake some things up again.
Ty managed to zip up his pants and grinned to himself, opening the car door and glancing around, making sure no one saw him running up the steps to her front door. He grabbed the spare, unlocking her front door and letting himself in.
She started stroking herself, faster, harder, pinching her clit just a little, her breathing ragged. “Oh shit…” Lena murmured, and began to pant. “Get me off, Ty. I need you.”
She didn’t even hear him approach. “I would be glad to.”
Lena screamed out loud.
Available NOW…Buy books I & II together and save:
Bio:
(transposed to the third person to appear more mature *grins cheerfully*)
well…alisa did stuff and is still doing stuff. only now she has two boys crazy enuff to want her as their mommy. hey, at least she tried to warn them, so her job is done. she doesn’t like to capitalize, partially because she likes how lower case letters look visually, but mostly out of laziness. please don’t judge. it could be you. and she would say, hey. you’re alright, buddy. you’re ok in my book. now c’mere for a hug. the hug might be pushing it. air kiss? you are strangers, after all, with only a mutual love of poor grammar.
she lives for a world full of controllable anatomically correct, android men programmed to meet her specific feminine needs (wink, wink, nudge, nudge with a big waggle of the eyebrows). who look like the rock. and ian somerhalder. and idris elba. and that’s it she promises. variety. gotta have variety, right?
but alas…apparently that exists only in johanna lindsey’s genius mind. so until then, she enjoys her incredibly warped sense of humor. she reads tons of erotica and romantic, drippy goo that makes her heart go pitter patter. then she thought, hey. what, she said to herself. (softly, of course, so no one finds out she is indeed, 2 nuts short of a fruitcake) maybe you should write this stuff too. maybe someone will like it and maybe buy it. so she said, huh, you think? then she said, well…yeah, i wouldn’t have suggested it…(inserts sarcastic tone) and then she was like lose the attitude, ok? then she was all, would you just shut up and write, already? sheesh! and she did.
Alisa Anderson
http://www.houseofalisa.com
http://www.amazon.com/Alisa-Anderson/e/B009IEA6A8
http://www.alisaanderson.wordpress.com
http://www.facebook.com/AlisaAndersonBooks
https://twitter.com/bitchesbewritin
