Lisa Fox's Blog, page 29
August 9, 2016
It’s #NationalBookLoversDay!
Celebrate National Book Lovers Day in style and read lots today!
Filed under: Holiday Tagged: Awesomeness, Books, NationalBookLoversDay, Read
August 6, 2016
August 5, 2016
August 4, 2016
I’m Going To Wild Wicked Weekend!
Yay! I hope to see you there!!!
Filed under: News Tagged: Appearance, Conference, Lisa Fox, Romance, Wild Wicked Weekend, Writing
August 3, 2016
Out Now—Passion’s Last Promise (Club Aegis #4) by Christie Adams
Passion’s Last Promise (Club Aegis #4) by Christie Adams
Blurb:
Hers to protect…his to serve…
When a failed kidnap attempt leads to CEO Dr. Simon Northwood acquiring a bodyguard, he isn’t prepared for close protection specialist Ros Edwards, a former captain in the Royal Military Police. Experienced submissive though he is, having a woman stand between him and any further threat is completely untenable.
Assigned to protect the genius behind a project of national importance, Ros unexpectedly encounters the most delicious man she’s met in a long time. As a Domme, she’d love to play with him, but even if he weren’t in need of her professional skills, there’s no way he’s submissive.
A determined man. A stubborn woman. When passion flirts with danger, the last promise is the toughest one of all…
Buy links:
Amazon: http://getbook.at/PLP
All Romance eBooks: https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-passion039slastpromise-1940493-147.html
iBooks: https://itunes.apple.com/book/passions-last-promise/id1131728778?mt=11
Kobo: https://store.kobobooks.com/en-us/ebook/passion-s-last-promise
*****
Excerpt
“Problems, Miss Edwards?”
“Not at all, Dr. Northwood.” She turned towards him and slipped the smartphone back into her jacket pocket. “A minor logistical issue, that’s all. Is there something I can do for you?”
“I was wondering if we were still on schedule to depart for Oxford as planned.” From what he’d heard, Simon had his doubts.
“Of course, sir. As I said, a minor logistical issue.” She paused, fixing him with her coolly assessing gaze. “I was just about to make coffee—would you care to join me?”
He had a conference call in a few minutes, his third of the day, but Simon suddenly found himself more in need of a shot of caffeine, and another opportunity to try to goad her into going Domme on him. He’d been trying all week, and this morning was the closest he’d come yet. He strode over to the desk to call his PA.
“Alicia? Can you let Martin know that he’ll be handling the finance call in ten? Give him my apologies—something’s come up that requires my attention elsewhere. Thanks.” He replaced the receiver and turned his attention back to his bodyguard. “I don’t mind if I do, Miss Edwards.”
She gave a brief nod in acknowledgement. He watched her disappear into the adjoining kitchen, only to hear seconds later the crash of breaking glass followed by the colourful and creative cursing he was coming to associate with his beautiful bodyguard. Simon headed for the epicentre of the disaster.
As if someone had flicked a switch, his nonchalant attitude came to an abrupt end. Ros was running her hand under the tap, washing away the blood that was oozing from a cut to her hand. Broken glass littered the worktop and the floor.
Simon’s protective instincts kicked into action, sweeping aside all thoughts of provoking her again. He grabbed the first aid kit from one of the cupboards. “Let me help.”
“It’s all right, I can manage.”
“No—you can’t. What happened?”
To his surprise, she allowed him to take her hand in his. Strong and capable, it was at the same time neat and feminine, with short but immaculately manicured nails. No rings, but as he’d told himself the first time he’d checked, that didn’t necessarily mean anything.
“Kamikaze glassware.” Ros glanced up at the open cupboard. “When I was getting the mugs to make the coffee, I accidentally nudged a couple of tumblers. They decided to take their name seriously and try out for the Olympic gymnastics team. I can tell you now, their technique sucked.”
Simon pressed his lips together, trying not to laugh at the latest glimpse of her taste in humour. She’d caught him unawares like that once or twice before, with a little nugget of dry wit. “What were you trying to do? Catch them or juggle with them?”
She shot him a dark scowl. At that precise moment, she looked more like the recipient of a sense of humour bypass, then he realised she was more annoyed with herself.
“I was picking up the pieces. Some of the shards started slipping out of my hands and I grabbed at them on instinct. Stupid thing to do. At least it’s not my right hand.”
He quirked a questioning eyebrow.
“Trigger finger.” She waggled the digit at him. “Can’t pull a trigger if I’m bandaged up.”
“Or if you end up slicing through tendons.” Simon’s slightly harsh tone was a reflection of his discomfort at the way she spoke so candidly of using firearms. “A dustpan and brush might have been safer than trying to pick up the broken glass.” He nodded in the direction of the tall corner cupboard.
For a moment she looked like she was about to argue, but then the change in her expression and a tiny, careless shrug acknowledged the truth of his words. Simon turned his attention to her injuries. There were some superficial cuts but the main one wasn’t as bad as he’d first thought—she’d probably get away without needing any stitches in it. Having confirmed there was no glass in the wound, he pulled on some surgical gloves and ripped open a sachet containing an antiseptic wipe.
She was standing so close now. He tried not to be distracted by the calm rise and fall of her breasts, or the subtle floral scent of her perfume. He tried not to respond to her steady gaze resting squarely on him. He tried not to think of the probable reasons why a former RMP officer never even flinched at the sting of the antiseptic.
Having put a couple of Steri-Strips on the cut, he then made the move that was his downfall. It was the small, insignificant act of glancing up at Ros’ face. She was staring at his hands in rapt fascination, lips slightly parted, almost inviting a kiss.
Carpe diem. The Latin phrase blazed through Simon’s mind like a meteor. She hadn’t responded to provocation, so perhaps a different tactic was called for. He swept aside the memory of the altercation they’d had a few hours earlier, focusing instead on this moment.
Simon pulled off the surgical gloves with a snap. In a club, he’d never dream of doing what he was about to do—it went against everything he’d been trained for, but this was an opportunity he couldn’t afford to miss.
Before Ros could move away from him, he took her uninjured hand in his and raised it to his lips. Before his inner voice could convince him he was making a huge mistake, he pressed a gentle kiss to her palm.
“Dr. Northwood.”
He wasn’t expecting the sound of his name to send a delicious shiver through his body. The formality, though…just as guilty of that as she was, maybe even more so, but he wanted it to end. “Simon.”
Desire would be held back no longer—he claimed the sweetness of her mouth, and prepared to take his punishment for crashing through her boundaries…
*****
Author Bio:
After winning an erotic short story competition, Christie Adams waited over twenty years to follow it up with her first full-length erotic romance. The second publisher she approached picked it up, and after a brief spell with them, she moved into the exciting world of indie publishing.
When she was asked about how she got into writing, Christie realised she’s been putting pen to paper—or fingers to keyboard—for longer than she thought. It all started in her teens, with stories featuring characters from her favourite TV shows—usually action dramas—but in her imagination, those characters were given a romantic life to go with the all-action one their audiences saw.
From there, she progressed to romantic novels featuring characters of her own invention, but success eluded her until she spotted the erotic short story competition in a magazine.
Christie lives in north-west England. When not at the day job, she can usually be found wrestling with the characters in her latest novel. Occasionally she finds time for sleep, and maintains her social skills through, among other things, regular attendance at a pub quiz, which forces her to think about other things besides plots and characterisation.
Filed under: Guest Blogger Tagged: BDSM, Christie Adams, Erotic, Passion’s Last Promise (Club Aegis #4)
August 2, 2016
SALE! One Kiss is Just $0.99!
ONE KISS, is still on sale for JUST $0.99! Check out the first book in my Midnight Kiss series while the sale lasts!
Get it everywhere!
Amazon – http://goo.gl/kUhg13
B&N – http://goo.gl/ywuET7
Kobo – https://goo.gl/dlC1ly
iTunes – https://goo.gl/YIv9gi
One Kiss by Lisa Fox
Blurb:
Sometimes one kiss can change everything.
New Year’s Eve is supposed to be a night for celebration and new beginnings. For best friends Kat and Dean, it is a nightmare filled with disastrous dates and enraged ex-girlfriends!
Lucky for them, they’ve got each other to help laugh off the embarrassing, and downright inappropriate, moments. But then midnight rolls around and neither of them have anyone to kiss…
There’s no doubt this is a night they will always remember.
The real question is whether it will be a night they want to forget…
An Excerpt From: ONE KISS
Copyright © LISA FOX
All Rights Reserved, Harper Impulse, a Division of HarperCollins Publishers
CHAPTER ONE
Kat spun around when her cell phone rang, and the stiletto heel on her brand new shoes snapped, knocking her off-balance. She crashed down on the living room carpet with a loud thump, grunting out a string of vile curses. Her short, sparkly dress twisted around her hips as she scrambled to get up, and a few sequins fell off when she collided with the coffee table. The phone slid off the glass top, bounced twice, and hit the floor. She snatched it off the ground as the last bars of “Tank!” played, brought it to her ear, and winced as the missed call beep blasted her eardrum.
“Son of a bitch,” she muttered, and checked the caller ID to see who had caused her all this grief. Dean. It figured. Her eyebrows furrowed. She hadn’t expected to hear from him for another few days. He was supposed to be out somewhere swank tonight, spending a very expensive, very exclusive New Year’s Eve with his girlfriend, Marine. The more expensive, the better. Marine wouldn’t settle for anything less. And she would not be happy if she knew he was calling Kat in the middle of their date. There had to be something wrong.
She slipped off her broken shoes as she called him back, grimacing when she tossed them into the trash can. It was a damn tragedy to have to throw out a cute pair of shoes. This was not a positive omen for the evening.
“Hey, Kat,” he answered on the second ring, and the familiar sound of his deep voice made her smile. Dean had a way of always making her smile. He also had a way of getting under her skin and driving her crazy too, but right now it was good to hear his voice. She’d missed him a lot during the Christmas break.
“Hey, yourself.” She switched the phone to her other ear and pushed open her bedroom door. Going out tonight was probably a bad idea. She was beginning to regret letting Ron talk her into this ridiculous blind date. If there was any time left to back out, she would have. Well, maybe that wasn’t entirely true. She was kind of excited. Curious anyway. She’d been so stagnate lately. It was time to shake things up. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing. I just got back and I wanted to say hi.”
“Huh-huh,” she said, allowing him to hear the skepticism in her voice. This was not a “just say hi” call. Something was up. She could feel it. “I thought you’d be out with Marine by now.” She knelt down in front of her closet and pushed her half-unpacked suitcases aside. Her shoulders sagged as she peered into the dark, chaotic recesses. She was never going to find anything in there. Why had she never organized? Maybe that ought to be her New Year’s resolution. She dug around and pulled out a pair of red, patent leather Mary Jane’s, which she examined and promptly tossed aside. Definitely not right. “What are you guys doing tonight?”
He took a deep breath and exhaled. “Mari and I broke up.”
Kat sat back on her heels. That was news—and not the bad kind. The last time she’d seen them together, Marine had been clinging to Dean’s arm as hard as usual. Found someone with a bigger wallet, did she? formed on her lips, but she bit the words back. He knew exactly how she felt about Marine. He didn’t need to hear it right now. “What happened?”
She heard the phone shift and knew that he was raking his fingers through his thick, curly hair. It was what he did whenever he was upset. “It started out like it always does, you know? She bitched about my job, cried over all the money I was ‘losing’ by not going somewhere else, and then she got all twisted, went on this rampage about how we can’t get married if—”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” She shook her head so violently, her hair got caught on a button of the only business suit she owned. She winced as she pulled herself free, ripping out a fair amount of hair in the process. “Please don’t tell me you proposed to her?”
“What? No. But it’s what she wants.”
I’ll bet. Marine was no fool. She was entering her late twenties and while she was a working model, she wasn’t one of the elite. One day very soon she was going to be nothing more than an old face in a sea of younger, fresher faces. For women like Marine, marrying well became the next logical step. Dean was an excellent candidate. He was young, ambitious, an award-winning designer on the ground floor of a successful boutique web design and marketing firm. He’d already been headhunted a number of times by the corporate giants. If he ever decided to make a move, he’d be able to name his price. And, as an added bonus, he looked great in a suit. “I don’t understand. You broke up over that? You guys have had that fight a million times before.”
“Well, this time when she left, I didn’t stop her.” He paused. “I haven’t heard from her since.”
Good riddance, she almost said aloud. He deserved so much better. “When was this?”
“Tuesday.” She heard him sit down on his couch, the familiar creak of the springs in the background. “Right after the holiday dinner.”
Kat’s mouth dropped open. “Before Christmas? Dean, that was over a week ago! You’re just telling me now?”
She could feel him shrug, see his sheepish grin. “You were in California, and I only got back from Colorado last night. There was nothing you could do.”
She huffed in reply and dove back into the closet. There was probably something she should be saying, some comfort she should be offering, but he didn’t really sound all that upset, and a deep, mean, little part of her was glad Marine was gone. A deep, selfish little part of her actually rejoiced. “So, what happens now?”
He didn’t get a chance to answer because Kat yelped as a pile of boxes fell down around her head.
“Kat,” he called, his voice sharp with alarm. “Are you all right?”
She couldn’t help but smile. She knew without any doubt that he was on his feet, that he’d leapt up the moment she screamed, and was ready to jet over to her place to save her immediately. Sir Galahad had nothing on Dean. Sickening as it was, it never failed to strum a cord way back in the depths of her black, little heart. She wasn’t used to people wanting to care for her and every time he did, it left her feeling a bit unbalanced, yet oddly touched. But, no matter how sweet, it was the reason behind most of his problems. He was a sucker for a female in distress—or at least the ones who were convincingly in distress.
“I’m fine,” she said, pressing her palm against the side of her head where the corner of a box had struck. She supposed she should have been grateful there was no blood. A great, big river of blood gushing out of her head would only have made the night that much more awesome. “I’m trying to get ready for Ron and Alan’s party.”
“I didn’t think you were going.”
“I wasn’t.” She had intended to stay home and work, maybe have a glass of champagne alone at midnight, but then Ron approached her the day after the holiday dinner with his idea, and she had randomly said yes, surprising both him and herself. A sigh escaped her lips as her gaze touched the disarray spanning out into the center of her bedroom. She should have stuck with her original plan.
Filed under: News Tagged: Kindle Sale, Lisa Fox, Midnight Kiss, New York City, One Kiss, Romance, Sale
July 30, 2016
Saturday Video – Frozen “In Summer”
I don’t know about Olaf, but I’m certainly melting this summer.
Filed under: Saturday Video Tagged: Frozen, In Summer, Melting, Olaf
July 29, 2016
July 28, 2016
Tirgearr Publishing Summer Sale!
Tirgearr Publishing is having an awesome sale on all their titles! Get 50% off some of the HOTTEST romance titles out there! Including my very own, ONE NIGHT IN NEW YORK CITY!
Filed under: News Tagged: Beach Reads, New York City, Romance, Sale, Sexy, Summer Reads, Tirgearr Publishing
July 27, 2016
50% Off One Night in New York City!
Use the code SSW50 at checkout for 50% off ONE NIGHT IN NEW YORK CITY! Get it in all digital formats at Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/551789
One Night in New York City by Lisa Fox
Copyright © LISA FOX
All Rights Reserved, Tirgearr Publishing
A piercing whistle sliced through her thoughts as a bike messenger flew past her, startling her back to harsh reality. This city, that dream—none of it was real. She had failed. Sorrow punched her chest, but she gritted her teeth, fighting against the raw emotion. Anger. That was what she needed. Anger was good. Strong. It kept the humiliation—the absolute dismay—at bay. Anger was an emotion she could be into. Anger wasn’t helpless, and neither was she. She took a deep breath, adjusted her backpack, and straightened her spine.
She lifted her foot, ready to take that ever important first step forward, but suddenly there were arms around her waist, pulling her sideways. She didn’t have time to think, struggle, or even fully process what was going on before she was enveloped in the strong embrace of a stranger.
A short huff of surprise escaped her lips as he swung her around, his body hard against hers. She peeked over his shoulder and watched a gigantic steel bin overloaded with colorful magazines hit the curb right where she had been standing. The man in the gray metal newsstand threw open the side door, a move that would have hit her square in the face. The news guy waved to the delivery man as he hoisted the basket into the stand. The driver tapped his horn once in reply, then sped off in his white van.
She turned her head to thank her savior and promptly lost all ability to speak. The breath left her lungs in a single whoosh as she gaped at the man holding her. He was stunning, absolutely devastating, with his artfully messy black hair, long sideburns, sharp cheekbones, and a dark, stubbly beard. But it was his eyes that held her, captivated her, made her heartbeat take a pointed jump. They were vibrantly blue, but dark, more like indigo, deep and full of brilliant starlight. The entire city faded into the background when she looked into those eyes, the whole world far, far away.
She slowly took in the planes of his handsome face, and when she reached his mouth, a spark of pure want sizzled from the top of her head right down to the soles of her feet. Heat crept up her neck, warming her skull. His gaze flicked to her lips, and she lifted her chin ever so slightly toward him. She was hyperaware of his body against hers, the warm press of him from shoulders to knees. She dragged her gaze back up to meet his, and his eyes twinkled with mirth as he looked down at her, a small, knowing smile playing on his lips. She was suddenly all too aware that she was gaping at him like some star-struck teenager—and that he knew it. Embarrassment quickly replaced her desire, and she ducked her head to hide the furious blush spreading across her cheeks. She couldn’t have been more mortified if she had puked on his shoes.
“Sorry,” she mumbled, as she extracted herself from his embrace. She needed to put some space between them before she did something even more awkward. It felt a little too good in his arms, and she might conveniently forget they were perfect strangers if she held on any longer. She took a decisive step away from him, trying not to feel all that she was feeling.
He released her, flashing her a wide grin complete with deep dimples and bright, white teeth. “No apology necessary. Are you all right?”
Zoe chewed on the inside of her cheek as a new rush of lust swept over her. Dark hair, dimples, and a British accent. He was just too much. Her gaze meandered over the tall, lean length of him. Black leather shoes, thigh-hugging jeans, untucked navy blue shirt, the sleeves rolled up on his forearms, a heavy, titanium watch on his wrist, no rings on any of his fingers. She raised her eyes a little higher, taking in the breadth of his chest, the top button of his shirt undone, exposing the hollow of his throat, a hint of collarbone, then up to those damn, exquisite blue eyes.
“Let me buy you a drink,” she blurted out. She’d never been a shy girl, and if there was one thing she’d learned while pursuing her goals, it was that you had to seize every opportunity while you could. He was gorgeous. This was not a chance she was going to squander if she could help it. “To thank you for saving me.”
“Nonsense. I could not allow a woman I just rescued from certain dismemberment by news vendor to buy her own drink.” He placed his hand over his heart. “A hero does no such thing.”
A huge smile spread across her face. This was better than she’d dared to hope. “My hero, huh?”
Filed under: News Tagged: Contemporary Erotic Romance, Kindle Sale, Lisa Fox, One Night in New York City, Romance, Sale, Sexy
