Ginger Voight's Blog, page 5

Valentine #12: Devlin. A Master... for hire. #RomanceWeek

What is the name of today's Valentine?



How old is he when we meet him?

Late twenties. Old enough to know better, young enough to not care.

What stands out most about him?

He's built for your pleasure, a chameleon who can change to fit your every need.

Nice guy or douche?

That is the question, isn't it?

Favorite moment with him?

Okay. So. This story came about after my bestie and I were talking like besties do. He asked me if I would ever pay a guy to have sex. I was raised in the conservative South, around the first few notches in the heart of the Bible Belt. Paying for something as salacious as sex is strictly forbidden... and as such, deliciously taboo.

So I gave it some thought. If I had the means and desire, *would* I pay for sex? Could I pay for something that would ultimately mean nothing, except scratching some itch?

The more I thought about it, the more I could see why someone would. Instead of dating scores of men to keep yourself occupied, you could order what you wanted, when you wanted. When you needed. I'm sure I'm not the only woman who has pulled that slot machine handle and ended with duds more times than you care to admit. Maybe they're an ass. Maybe they're a basket case. Maybe they can't find he clitoris with two hands, a road map and a flashlight. Imagine just calling a number and a hot man shows up on your doorstep, ready to meet your every command. No muss. No fuss. No strings. He knows what to do and do it *well.*



Whether you call him once or a hundred times, there are no weirdo emotional commitments, just good ol' fashioned, red-blooded passion at your beck and call whenever you wanted it.



That sounded like a fun little playground for someone like me. I'm an Alpha Female. I like to be in control. I prefer the chase if I'm in charge of it, that way I know exactly what I'm going to get and what I can tolerate. If someone pursued me it'd freak me the fuck out, essentially turning the predator into prey. And I don't do "prey."

But with a Bad Boy for hire, he has certain rules to follow. MY rules. We can go right to the brink of danger and dangle our tippy toes over the line without any real risk.

I find that sexy. Having a man who knows what I need and is focused solely on giving it to me, SEXY.

Devlin Masters. Sexy. It's his job to be. And he's damned good at it.

Devlin shadowed me as I walked Gus and Lucy to the door. I stood waving after them long after they disappeared down the pathway and into the darkness beyond. Devlin finally reached around me to close the front door with one hand, which ultimately pinned me between the solid, hard wood of the door and the solid, hard wall of his chest. He leaned forward, towering above me, so close that I could feel the heat from his incredible body. His gaze swept over me, as if peeling away every inch of my clothes with nothing more than a look, before it finally settled on my face.

My eyes met his. This was where it got complicated, I knew. We could spend the rest of our night ‘talking’, but I hadn’t paid to talk. I could have had that with Oliver without paying one thin dime. I had wanted something more than that, and had for a long, long time. I knew it, and I suspected that Devlin knew it, too. He was, after all, a professional.

So what now? Did I take a green light for granted here, or what? Did I simply ask for sex? Or did wait for him to make a move? Did we talk about it, or just go at it like a couple of people might on a “real” date? The clock was ticking and I had absolutely no idea what to do next.

He answered my silent questions with a slow, confident smirk as he locked the door behind us with a resounding click. He leaned forward, his mouth so near to my skin I could feel his breath against me. My knees nearly gave way when he said, “Alone at last.”

I nodded, gulped hard and licked my lips. He chuckled a bit before he turned back to the living room, tugging my hand in his so that I would follow. “You should get us some glasses, Coralie,” he murmured as he reached for the bottle of champagne to uncork it.

I nodded dutifully and scurried around the corner to the kitchen, returning with a couple of cobalt blue champagne flutes. He shrugged out of his jacket as I perched on the sofa to pour us our wine. It was a wonder I didn’t spill it everywhere. I couldn’t wrench my gaze away from his body if I tried. Those broad shoulders… that solid chest…the promise of that bulge in those slim-fitting pants…and for the next couple of hours or so it was all mine, bought and paid for.

#NNNff…

My pulse raced as he sat next to me, so close that I became intoxicated on the spicy, woodsy scent of his cologne. I was sure he could see my hand tremble when I handed him his glass.

Those sultry eyes rendered me mute as he stared at me. Finally he raised his glass. “To old friends and new beginnings,” he said in a voice so soft, it felt like an actual caress.

I nodded as I clinked our glasses together. I couldn’t tear my eyes from his supple mouth as he drank. Again, I drained another glass. I reached for the bottle, but Devlin leaned forward to grab my hand. “You’re not going to need that,” he murmured in a low voice that sent a shock wave to my core.

“I’m—I’m not?” I stammered.

He shook his head. My head was floating as high as a cloud as he took the glass from my hand and set it on the coffee table in front of me. He eased back against the couch, capturing my face with his hand. His thumb brushed rhythmically over my cheek as he stared down into my face. “I think I know what you want, Coralie. I definitely know what you need. The question is… do you trust me to give it to you?”

My eyes widened as I stared up at him. Slowly I nodded. I stared at his mouth as it descended towards mine, closing over my lips finally in a soft, sensual kiss.

What do you love about him?

He's powerful, which I find hot as hell. He can take what he wants without stealing it like a thief, because he knows how to make it something you want more than you've ever wanted anything. He'll command. You'll gladly acquiesce because he can mold himself into any fantasy. And he can assess that need in an instant, paying attention to all the details.

What do you hate about him?

He's secretive. He's jealous. His dark side is fairly dark and more often than not, his demons drive him. That's the thing about power. There is always price to be paid.

If you went on a date, where would you go?

Anywhere I fucking wanted.

Who inspired him?

Oddly enough, I inspired him. He's a Scorpio male, which fascinates me as a Scorpio female. I've never dated one or been intimate with one, mostly because - like I said above - relinquishing that kind of control to another person would be terrifying. So instead I gave him all of my qualities, good and bad, to have that experience within the safe confines of a book.

“Seriously, Lucy? Do you really want to risk your life this close to your perfect day by ingesting a poisonous bug?” I asked, making a face.

Devlin chuckled. “Scorpions aren’t poisonous, they’re venomous. They have to sting you to do real damage, and these bad boys aren’t stinging anyone anymore,” he said as he motioned for two shots.

I shuddered anyway. “Yeah, no thanks.”

“No stomach to try a delicacy?” he teased.

“Not even a little bit,” I assured him. Yet strangely, knowing he was willing to do so only made him more exciting to me.

Clearly I had gone over to the dark side.

“And how do you know so much about scorpions, mister?” Lucy asked him.

He shrugged. “Let’s just say the subject has always fascinated me. People are so scared of them, but really, they’re mostly misunderstood. Plus, I’m a Scorpio,” he added, which suddenly explained why he had a sexy tribal scorpion tattoo trailing across his lower abdomen, heading towards exciting places south of his waistband.

Lucy, who had already gone through her astrology phase, chuckled. “That explains so much. It also gives me an idea.”

“Should I be scared?” he asked her as the bartender placed two scorpion shots in front of them.

“Always,” she grinned. They toasted with their drinks. I had to give Lucy credit. She didn’t even hesitate as she threw back that shot, swallowing the scorpion whole with nothing more than a cough or two to choke it down.

Devlin, on the other hand, drained the shot but kept the scorpion between his teeth, laying it out on his impressive tongue before he chewed it like it was a mouthful of caviar. Our gaze never wavered and that smirk never faltered. He kept me close to him though I squirmed and shook my head when he reached for a kiss.

“Eww, no!” I giggled as I turned away.

“Come on,” he encouraged with that damnable smirk. “A dangerous kiss for a dangerous girl.”

“You’re dangerous,” I corrected.

Those eyes entrapped me once more. “And that’s what you love most about me.”

Who might play him in a movie?

I've crushed hard on James McAvoy since I saw Penelope years ago. My crush took a pretty big hit with the movie Split, which shifted my crush status to "it's complicated" - (not unlike Colin Farrell after Fright Night.) Suffice it to say, if you need someone with intensity that can fit into whatever role he needs to play... he is now an indisputable choice.



Do you have a special song that reminds you of him?

Devlin is full of surprises. It stands to reason. You buy a guy to fit your fantasy, you kind of lose him in the character. But Devlin is so, so, so much more than that. He let me know fairly early on he was a classical pianist, which surprised me as much as it surprised everyone else...

Lucy plopped herself down in front of the baby grand in her magnificent suite, and proceeded to pound out the most off-key rendition of chopsticks I had ever heard. It made all of us groan, but she didn’t care. Finally Devlin edged me off of his lap.

“I’m sorry, Lucy. I can’t let you do that to that beautiful instrument.” He waved her away before he took his place on the bench.

“You know how to play?” she asked with an arched eyebrow.

“I’ve tickled a few ivories,” he assured as he sent me a naughty little wink. He then cracked his knuckles, tossed back his hair placed his hands over the keys.

I don’t know what any of us were expecting him to play, but I am fairly certain none of us expected him to launch into a classical piece, Pachelbel’s Canon in D. The more surprising part was how well he played it. He started slow, to create the atmosphere, allowing the music to lift us all on this swell of emotion he created with each note. This was more than a rehearsed piece of music. This was a song from his soul. And it was simply beautiful.

Lucy, Gus and I stared between ourselves in stunned disbelief. Of all the things I expected to learn this week, finding out Devlin Masters was some kind of piano virtuoso was nowhere on the list. It shamed me instantly. I had begun to see him as one-dimensional because that was the nature of his business—but that was not the whole of the man. Not by a long shot.

I studied him as he played, as if watching someone else entirely. He held the proper posture, his back strong and straight, striking a commanding silhouette in front of the grand piano. His dark hair tickled his neck near the collar of his shirt as he subtly tossed his head in an unconscious response to the music. Those incredible eyes closed, losing himself in the piece as his strong fingers confidently struck every key. It was clear with the emotional depth he demonstrated in this impromptu performance that he was more deeply faceted than I had previously thought.

I had to wonder what other things he had to show me.

We were speechless when he was done. It took a full second or two for us to applaud, after which he said, “I really should get around to taking lessons someday.”

Inadvertently this opened my musical inspiration up big time throughout the series, introducing me to classical pieces I had never heard before. This one is probably my favorite, from a scene in MASTERS FOREVER.



But the song that stands out the most is the one that I struggled to find. After I found out Devlin could play, it became a no-brainer that he'd play a song for CC. But what would he play? I needed it to be affirming but not overly committal. He couldn't pledge his love for her by this early scene in their relationship, but I wanted him to express wonder at all she was. And if it featured piano, all the better. After some extensive research, I came up with...



This song inspires a couple of scenes in the book, the second of which reduced me to tears. Imagine someone saying that to you and really meaning it - especially if you've never really had anyone say that to you before. I literally sobbed, thinking this would be the romantic ideal. It touched my heart.

Here's where it gets interesting... a few months after I wrote this, my husband came home from work one day *insisting* that I needed to hear this song he heard on the radio, saying it reminded him of me in every way.

I'll let you guess which song it was while I go get some tissue...

Any "Easter Eggs" planted with this book boyfriend?

We've already covered several of the bases. He's a Scorpio, check. That song, check. That everything figures so prominently in Vegas, where I got married, check. One of the bigger issues I dealt with was the ridiculous nature of clothes sizing for "plus-size" women, and the whole nature of "plus-size" in general. I used some of my own experiences when it comes to shopping for clothes as a basis behind the argument, including some of the (smaller) sizes I've worn in my life, only to be corrected in reviews that this book couldn't have been written by a woman because these sizes would have made her HUUUUUUUUUGE.

Such is the chance you take planting such personal Easter Eggs I suppose...

Where can we find him?

We start our journey with Devlin in MASTERS FOR HIRE, which on sale today for only $0.99. That's the fairy tale romance version. It doesn't get down and dirty until book two, MASTERS FOR LIFE, which is where the fantasy falls apart. Finally, in perhaps my most erotic book ever written under my real name, everything explodes in MASTERS FOREVER. But the story doesn't end there. Thanks to Graham Baxter, Devlin earns his own place in the Groupie Universe, so they cameo in other stories, such as FULL-FIGURED FLOOZIES.

And it all starts with a bargain of $0.99 - which is a significant discount off of Devlin's hourly rate.

I may be biased, but I think he's worth every penny...

Valentine #11: Jonah Riley, pure Southern Comfort

What is the name of today's Valentine?



How old is he when we meet him?

Twenty-four.

What stands out most about him?

He's a solid, stand-up guy. He says what he means and means what he says.

Nice guy or douche?

He's one of the nicest guys I've written. But he has his douche moments. He's young. He's got a temper. It gets the better of him sometimes.

Favorite moment with him?

My dad died when I was eleven. He pretty much filled my world as my caretaker back in the day, so losing him tore a gigantic hole in my life. Thanks to my aunt, his sister, who took care of me in those dark days that followed, I had a never-ending stream of books to read. They were Harlequin romances she used to get four at a time, those thin little white-cover novels that a fast reader could demolish in a day. There were stacks and stacks of them and I inhaled them, clinging particularly to the men I read about since I was suddenly without any strong, male influence in my life. No brothers except older stepbrothers I barely met and hardly knew. No grandpas. All my uncles lived out of town. But within those books I could feel protected again. I could step into those romances, the wide-eyed ingenue, and the hero could save me from my loneliness and despair.

Most ran together, quite honestly. The books were formulaic. I knew what I could expect. Pretty soon I got burned out on generic happy endings. They no longer rang true to my ear. Bad things happened. Things weren't perfect. Right around that time, I found my first Janet Dailey book, "Six White Horses." I remember the name of the book and I remember the story, which is more than I could say for dozens I read around the same time. One, it was one of her Americana series, so it was set in the South. Being a proper Southern girl, this pleased me. Two, the hero was a gigantic ass and the heroine was true Oklahoma grit who wasn't going to take ANY of that mess. They HATED each other, but man there was some serious heat between them.

When I set out to write a Southern Romance of my own, I dug DEEP into this dynamic. It is my personal ode to a story that changed forever how I look at romance.

Thank you, Janet.

I headed out to my truck by ten-thirty. Before I could turn the key, I spotted someone across the parking lot kicking and screaming at a POS special with its hood up.

That someone was wearing ripped blue jeans and a hoodie.

I started the truck and drove slowly over to her section of the darkened, mostly abandoned parking lot. Most of the crowd, including those who were giving her the most grief, was inside getting their buzz on, listening to the next act.

I rolled down my window as I got to her. “Having trouble?”

She whirled around to glare at me. When she saw my face she rolled her eyes. “I’m fine,” she said as she turned around to the stalled vehicle.

I stopped the truck and slid out. “You may be fine but your car is on its last leg.” I glanced down at the engine, which looked to be about a hundred years old. “Let me give you a ride.”

She glanced me over with disdain. “Yeah, no thanks.”

“Fine, then how about a jump?”

“How about get lost?” she snapped. “Go play Boy Scout somewhere else.”

She was clearly pissed, but I would have been too after what happened after her gig. “I’m just trying to help.”

“I don’t need your help,” she spat.

“Look, I know it’s been a rough night…” My comment was cut short when she whirled around, a tiny, fiery bundle of fury.

“Don’t you understand English? Get lost!”

My blood started to boil. “Fine! Stay here all night. See if I care.” I turned toward the truck, but before I got to the driver’s side I stopped myself. I tried to remind myself that she wasn’t angry with me. It had been a shitty crowd, with a bunch of drunk assholes ready to jump all over her like they deserved to. I couldn’t very well leave her there, not with all the aggressive jerks who had tried to ambush her in the club. They wouldn’t stop at no, and that was no kind of guy to run into in a dark parking lot. I took a deep breath before I turned back and walked over to the car.

Her eyes widened as I approached. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“I’m helping you,” I told her before I circled her waist with my hands and lifted her away from her car so I could figure out what was wrong with it. “Too bad you’re too damned stubborn to see that.”

“Fuck you!” she spat, hissing at me like an angry cat.

I ignored her as I fiddled with the engine. I sidestepped her to climb inside and turn the key. Nothing. I got out, rounding to the front of the car to test the connections. Despite the ancient car, the battery was new. I retrieved my tools from my truck and within a minute her car fired to life. She stood staring at me, stupefied.

“Connection was loose,” I told her as I put my tools back in the box. “Shouldn’t give you any more trouble.”

I put the tool box back in the bed of the truck before I hopped in the cab and gunned my own engine. She walked, reluctantly, to my window. “Thank you,” she managed.

I looked her in those big doe eyes, which were a lot more contrite than angry. “You’re welcome.”

“I’d offer you money, but…” She trailed off, looking embarrassed.

I held her gaze for just a minute longer before I said, “Don’t worry about it. Finding out there’s a woman under there and not some feral cat is payment enough.”

I left her sputtering behind me as I squealed out of the parking lot.

What do you love about him?

He's all the best part of a good Texas man. He's got honor. He's got fight. He's got a big heart. He would do anything for his sick sister or his grieving mother. He's not going to settle. He's going to meet every challenge head-on. He is the very definition of cowboy the fuck up.

What do you hate about him?

He's stubborn as a mule. He can be pushy. He's young, still, so he can be immature. Things had come relatively easy for him growing up, it takes a little adjustment to be told "no."

If you went on a date, where would you go?

A picnic in the countryside.

Who inspired him?

I grew up in Texas, so I know a little bit about Texas men. He was all the good stuff, poured into tight-fitting blue jeans.

Who might play him in a movie?

More of who *should* have played him. I've only had one perfect Southern Ideal since 1985, and that was this guy..



*Sigh*. Orry. Where do you go from there, honestly?

Do you have a special song that reminds you of him?

Like most of my music-driven stories, there are a lot of songs that crafted Jonah.







And, of course, the duets...



BUT, having said that, this is their love theme to me.



Any "Easter Eggs" planted with this book boyfriend?

You know, I can't think of anything offhand.

Where can we find him?

SOUTHERN ROCKER BOY is Jonah's story, which is free today. SOUTHERN ROCKER CHICK is Lacy's. They are told from dual perspectives because I really wanted to examine the idea, "There's his story, there's her story and the cold, hard truth." We get to see how that all plays out in SOUTHERN ROCKER SHOWDOWN. But the story doesn't end there. Jonah and Lacy become part of the Groupie Universe, so they pop up in FULL-FIGURED FLOOZIES.

Valentine #10 - Your #fridayreads takes you back to what coulda been.

What is the name of today's Valentine?



How old is he when we meet him?

Six, nine, twelve, fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, twenty-two, twenty-eight, twenty-nine and thirty-eight.

What stands out most about him?

He is Jake Ryan. If you understand that reference, this book is the PERFECT book for you.

Nice guy or douche?

He's a douche who thinks he's a nice guy. Or a nice guy who doesn't realize he's being a douche. It goes either way.

Favorite moment with him?

Here's what you have to understand about The Leftover Club. It is my ode to unrequited love. That era of unblemished hope of things that might come is quite a remarkable thing. Every moment carries delicious weight. Time loses all meaning. Every comment is reexamined and reanalyzed into perpetuity. Every near-touch, every breathless moment wondering might end in a kiss, makes the heart stop and the mind race. That shit is intoxicating to me, almost more so than the conquest in many ways. So I decided to devote a book to it. Dylan is a mix of every crush I've ever had, every guy that "got away." He's based on my first kiss on a schoolyard, that first "real" kiss by a pool, that boy who was extra nice to me because he wanted to "let me down easy" when I chased him around like a puppy, that guy who "saw" me and didn't run away, virtually making one of the darkest times in my life more bearable, and his echo I find in several guys that followed. He's that guy I loved/wanted without telling, but he always knew, and he still made me feel special, less weird and okay even if he didn't feel the same way.

In a way, they were all that guy. So it's fitting that they all found their way into Dylan Fenn.

There's no way I could pick a favorite if I tried.

Dylan grabbed my arm and propelled me out toward his car. He said nothing as he unlocked the door and thrust me in the passenger seat. He revved the engine once he got in, and then screeched around in an illegal U-turn as he pointed the car towards home.

“That was stupid, Roni,” he finally muttered once we hit the Pacific Coast Highway. “You can’t go alone with guys like that. They’re only after one thing.”

“Not from me,” I said softly.

“From anyone,” he corrected. “All those guys want is an easy lay.”

“I’m not an easy lay,” I snapped. “I’m a virgin.”

He stole a brief glance. “For now.”

I was starting to get angry. “What is that supposed to mean?”

He sighed. “Insecure virgins are a number one target.”

“You’d know,” I snapped.

He pulled off the main road and headed down toward the beach, pulling into the parking lot and killing the engine. He swiveled to face me from his bucket seat. “Is that the kind of guy you think I am?”

I held his gaze for as long as I dared. Finally I looked away. “I don’t know what kind of guy you are.”

“I’m a guy who cares about you,” he said softly, which forced me to look at him again. “I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

It was hollow comfort. I had been hopelessly infatuated with Dylan Fenn since I saw him ace a spelling bee in the first grade. A lot of good that had done me over the years.

Silence stretched on indeterminately between us until finally he said, “Truth or dare?”

My eyes met his. “What?”

“Truth or dare?” he repeated.

“There are no merry-go-rounds here,” I pointed out.

He conceded that point with a nod of his head. Then he reached across me to pull a joint from the glove box. He lit it up, inhaled deep, and then handed it to me. I took it begrudgingly and gingerly took a hit. “Hold it in,” he instructed, and I did. “Good. Give it a few minutes and you’ll feel like you’re right back on that merry-go-round.”

After I finished coughing and sputtering, I leaned back against my seat and closed my eyes. Just like he said, within minutes I felt like I was flying. “Truth or dare?” he repeated softly.

I didn’t bother to open my eyes. “Truth.”

“Would you have slept with Todd if he had asked?”

I exhaled slowly. “I don’t know,” I finally said. And that was the God’s honest truth. “It’s not like anyone has ever asked.”

“Would you have kissed him?” Dylan persisted.

“I don’t know. Probably. I mean look at me, Dylan. I’m a cliché. Sweet sixteen and never been kissed.”

“I think you’re forgetting something,” he said softly.

I glared at him. “That wasn’t a real kiss.”

A long moment passed before either of us spoke. “You’re right,” he finally conceded. “It wasn’t. We were just kids and it was just a silly dare.”

Though I long suspected it, it hurt to hear him say so. I started to look away but his hand curled around the back of my neck and pulled me back. “This is a real kiss,” he said before he leaned toward me and his mouth landed on mine.

I was in shock. I gasped, which parted my lips, a clear invitation for him to deepen the kiss. I tasted the alcohol on his tongue as it slid between my lips and meshed with mine. Inside I went up just like a roman candle. A rush of emotion flooded over me and I had no clue what to do with it. I sat rigid in my seat, as if I moved, or even breathed, I’d wake up lip-to-lip once again with my pillow.

His fingers tangled in my hair as he deepened the kiss, a moan of his own locked in his throat. His breathing was ragged as he broke apart. I knew my eyes were big and wide as I stared at him, unsure what to do next. He sighed as his eyes scanned my face. Gently he brushed my hair from my face before planting a long, lingering peck on my lips.

Without another word, he scooted back to his seat, started the car and pulled out of the lot towards home.

What do you love about him?

Like I said, he's a combination of all my unrequited crushes. Like the very first boy who turned my head when I was six, he is smart. Like my first great "love" when I was twelve, he is as funny as he is sweet. He looks like an idol, and makes me swoon like one too. Yet he's accessible, just close enough to touch even though I know I shouldn't. He's everything I wanted, when all I could do was want it, silently and from afar. He is everything I fear might be too good for me.



What do you hate about him?

He is walking angst. You never know where he's coming from, even if you think you do. He's just as scared of getting close as you are, so the missed opportunities stack up, which makes him want to give up entirely. Instead he'll chase after things that feed his ego, because that's how he copes. Deep inside he's still an abandoned little boy.

If you went on a date, where would you go?

We'd picnic on a forgotten merry-go-round in an abandoned park.

Who inspired him?

The better question is who *didn't*. I will say this much: the "club" is very much a real thing.

Who might play him in a movie?

If we're going for "the ultimate boy," I guess we could go with...



Do you have a special song that reminds you of him?

Oh, the songs...



All the songs...



SO many songs...



Ultimately, though... there could be only one.



Any "Easter Eggs" planted with this book boyfriend?

You'd be hard-pressed to find something that WASN'T an Easter Egg in this story. That first kiss story was lifted right out of my "real" life. My dad died when I was young, which left me with a big hole in my life to fill. This was done best by my childhood friend, who just happened to be gay. At one point, my mom and I lived with another family, a divorcee and her two kids. (He was also the cutest boy in that grade, which meant I had a TON of new "girlfriends" as a result.) That scene with the high school coach was based on real events. Most of the things Roni loved, I loved, from the shows that she watched to the music she listened to. I embellished a LOT, so no experience is *exactly* the same, but there couldn't have been more of me poured into it if I wanted.

Where can we find him?

THE LEFTOVER CLUB. For now, anyway. A reader asked me if I would consider writing a story about Meghan, and, given how old she'd be right now, that is certainly a possibility. I think she'd fit into my Groupie Universe quite nicely, actually.

Until then, you can take a stroll back in time and read The Leftover Club, which is free today only.

Valentine #9 - Xander, My Sexy Brit

What is the name of today's Valentine?



How old is he when we meet him?

He is 26.

What stands out most about him?

He's a sexy Brit smack in the middle of the Lone Star State. Let's just say... that stands out.

Nice guy or douche?

He's arrogant, but he's not a douchebag. He doesn't need to take anything away from anyone else to be completely assured who he is and what he can do. I guess you could say he has an ego, but he's not a maniac about it.

Favorite moment with him?

Xander brings with him a lot of heat. He knows what you need. He knows he can give it to you. He's excited to see you transform into the kind of woman he already knows you are, and won't let you wuss out of living your life right on the edge... where he can catch you, and you will fly. When you find a guy like that? Perfect seduction, even if you're determined to fight it. There's no staying a "good girl" around the likes of Xander Davy.

Joely stared helplessly back at her grinning friend as Xander pulled her to the crowded dance floor. The dance tune gave way to a Peter Gabriel classic, made popular in an iconic movie from her youth. Xander responded by pulling her closer, fitting her against his strong lines of his hard body. She gulped hard as her eyes drifted up to meet his. Those brown eyes, lightened with gold and green flecks, studied her intensely.

“What are you doing?” she finally said.

“Dancing with a beautiful woman,” he murmured in response as his gaze drifted lazily towards her mouth. “It’s one of the perks of going to a nightclub.”

“Please,” she scoffed. “You’re just taking pity on me because you think I’m some middle-aged reject.”

His eyebrows lifted. “So you think you know what I’m thinking, do you?”

All her senses were overloaded. She hadn’t been this close to a man in a very long time, even before Russell’s affair. Xander’s young sculpted body made all her senses go haywire. She held onto anger, because it was the only bullet left in the chamber of her common sense. “You tell me,” she said.

He leaned down next to her ear and murmured, “I think I already did.” His hand, which had been placed squarely on her back, splayed out as it traveled down the contour of her spine, coming to rest on the small of her back, pushing her into him. For a second there she forgot to breathe. “It’s not Spring Break in New Orleans, but it’s not a bad way to spend a Friday night.”

She glared at him. “Novanna was making all that up.”

“You never got drunk in New Orleans?” he asked with an innocent cock of his eyebrow. She sputtered in response, which made him chuckle. “You hide it well under this domestic veneer, but I get the feeling there’s a tigress under there somewhere. I’m just waiting for her to come out to play.”

“What do you think my mother would say about this?”

He ran his other hand down her arm to clasp her hand. “I don’t kiss and tell, love. Your mother doesn’t have to know. No one has to know.” He brushed his thumb against the palm of her left hand, which wedding rings no longer graced. “Just you and me alone, no restrictions, no limitations. Sounds kind of nice, doesn’t it?”

She glared at him. “So I’m just some one night stand, wham, bam, thank you ma’am?”

He held her closer so she could feel the promise of his hard body. “You can decide that for yourself.”

What do you love about him?

I've been a sucker for a British accent since I fell for Davy Jones at the grand ol age of nine. Add dark hair and mesmerizing eyes, you basically have my trifecta of temptation. Ahem...



What do you hate about him?

He's too good to be true. With a guy like that, you know only heartache can follow.

If you went on a date, where would you go?

His place. And I might never want to leave.

Who inspired him?

Like I said, Brits have had a long-standing appeal to me. In my life, I've met a few that came along when I was feeling down aobut myself, and proceeded to make me see myself in a whole new light. This was for them.

Who might play him in a movie?

It'd have to be someone who could smoulder, but also someone who could bring the fun of a younger man in a younger man/older woman romance.



Do you have a special song that reminds you of him?

This helped inspire the Dallas scene...



Any "Easter Eggs" planted with this book boyfriend?

I set this story in my hometown, so there were a lot of affectionate nods to how I grew up.

Where can we find him?

BACK FOR SECONDS. (For Now.) It is also free today only.

Valentine #8 - Nicholas. The Tortured Prince.

What is the name of today's Valentine?



How old is he when we meet him?

Eternal.

What stands out most about him?

His raw intensity. He sees everything. He knows everything. You can feel his touch even before he enters the room.

Nice guy or douche?

That is the question, isn't it?

Favorite moment with him?

One of the things I love/fear about Nicholas is his intensity. It's the kind of raw power that, if he were to touch your hand, you'd know all the mysteries of the universe, but you might lose yourself forever. It would be more than simple attraction. Getting close to him would feel like stars were colliding. Imagine all of that coming at *you*. He wants you. He knows you want him. It's not even a matter of if anymore, but when. You can see it in his eyes. You can hear it in his voice. Maybe, just maybe, it's an echo. Maybe, just maybe, it's some invisible string tethering you to some previous life where you had once consumed each other. The force is so strong that maybe you're a little scared at first. But deep down inside you're titillated. And you're powerless to stop it, and why on earth would you want to? It's like balancing on a high wire but all you can feel is the wind on your face and the stars at the tips of your fingers.

Yeah, I've never had that until there was Nicholas.

She barely heard the knock at the door around midnight. She thought for a moment it was Michael, but as she walked closer to the door her heart revealed who really stood on the other side. She didn’t even need to hear his voice. Even through two inches of wood his hold on her was undeniable.

“Adele? It’s Nicholas.”

She gasped, unsure of what to do. Her first impulse was to fling the door open and fly into his arms, but at the same moment she wanted to get as far away from him as possible. She needed to keep her head, and there was no doing it the moment that she looked into his eyes. She shook as she stammered, “You know, I’m really not feeling all that well, Nicholas. I think it may be a bug. I’m just going to get some sleep. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

There was a pause. She held her breath, hoping that he would not see through her feeble lie. “What’s wrong, Adele?”

Her heart broke at the question. “Nothing's wrong.”

“I’ll feel better if I could see you,” he said, and she could hear the longing in his voice. It was the same longing she felt and subsequently cursed. “I’d feel better if you didn’t,” she finally said. A long moment stretched on and she started to think he had gone.

“Don’t do this,” he said in a wavering voice. “Don’t push me away.”

She didn’t answer. She couldn’t answer. Everything within her wanted to hold him just one more time—one more time before she had to kill him. Fate was indeed a cruel bitch, much crueler than Adele had ever thought possible. How could love demand so much? She sobbed softly.

“Don’t you know how long I’ve waited for you?” he cried through the door. She shook her head, forcing away the memories, forcing away the feelings. “You’ve waited for me too. You know it.”

Just as she started to walk away he said, “You love me. Remember.”

In that moment she was swept away into a memory she never would have believed belonged to her. She was wrapped in Nicholas’s arms in an ornate four poster bed, her leg was draped over his barely clad hip and he kissed her along her neck and over her bare breasts. His kiss consumed her, his eyes dark with passion. Her voice was husky with desire as she begged him to make love to her. Her nails raked down his back, on her left hand a ruby ring that he had given her because she had promised herself to him, till death do they part.

She watched in her mind’s eye how his strong hands spread across her soft, ivory flesh, branding her with his touch, setting her soul on fire with each kiss she could feel on her cold, cracked lips hundreds of years later.

And now here they stood again, their love defying death itself. Time rearranged so they could be together once more. Adele pulled open the door and rushed out to feel him alive in her arms again, screaming, “I remember!” into the shrieking wind of the night.

What do you love about him?

He's mysterious and powerful.



What do you hate about him?

He's mysterious and powerful.



If you went on a date, where would you go?

A place that looked like a castle. A place where he'd reign and I'd be his queen.



Who inspired him?

I wrote this the year after my first husband died. You could say I was working some things through.



Who might play him in a movie?

I needed dark hair, dark eyes and raw sexual chemistry, which is my own personal kryptonite. My original prototype for this character in 2004...



Do you have a special song that reminds you of him?

I have an entire SOUNDTRACK. But this will always be their love theme to me. I cry every time I hear it.



Any "Easter Eggs" planted with this book boyfriend?

Aside from the obvious symbolism that pretty much captures all the people I love, there was a moment where Michael, Adele's best friend, trots out to meet her on the schoolyard where she was tasked with running a mile and she couldn't do it. He walked with her every step of the way back to the finish line. That was a real experience with one of my soul mates - my best friend, Jeff.

I also crafted the equally mysterious Thaddeus after one of my adolescent fascinations, which makes this book a loving homage to being a teen in the 80s.



Where can we find him?

MY IMMORTAL is a stand-alone story. (For Now.) It is also free today only.

Valentine #7 - Jace Riga. My Hero.

What is the name of today's Valentine?



How old is he when we meet him?

In his twenties.

What stands out most about him?

Physically, you can't miss him. He's an amputee who still likes to live on the edge, riding motorcycles, getting tattoos and chasing every dream he believes he can catch. He's also got these intense green eyes that see right through to the heart of you.

Nice guy or douche?

Jace is the best of the best, and not just because he was a soldier who lost his leg on the battlefield. He's a hero of the heart. He believes in faithfulness. He's got honor. When he says something, you can take it right to the fucking bank. The things he went through could have hardened him, but instead they made him wiser, more centered, than he already was. Like all my best guys, he doesn't see women as a collection of parts that have to be arranged in a certain way to earn his interest. He looks deeper than the superficial. On Everything. He values the whole picture. On everyone. He's the closest to perfect I could ever hope to get.

Favorite moment with him?

There are so many, but one that stands out is when he takes off his artificial leg. It's such a poignant moment where he's the most vulnerable he could possibly be. He's about to show his biggest "imperfection" to someone he genuinely cares about, someone who is so insecure that she doesn't feel like she can ever deserve him because she's not perfect. In bearing his soul, he hopes to convince her to do likewise. It's a moment of absolute trust. Sex, sh'mex, it's one of the most intimate scenes I've written.

That night I didn’t give anyone else a chance to keep Jace company during his midnight swim. I was at the pool by eleven-thirty, where I sat with my feet dangling in the water as I waited.

Jace seemed startled to find me there as he walked over to one of the lounge chairs. “I wasn’t expecting to see you here,” he said offhand as he dumped his towel onto the chair.

“I’ve wanted to come down for a while,” I admitted. “Every midnight for two weeks,” I added softly.

The look in his eyes was intense as he sat on the chair. “Why didn’t you?”

“They told me this was your time. I didn’t want to impose.”

He chuckled. “I thought they were just uncomfortable.”

I shook my head. “They love you, Jace. They never wanted you to feel embarrassed.”

“I’m not,” he stated simply. His eyes never left my face as he proceeded to remove his artificial leg. I watched as he removed the prosthetic, and the supporting garments underneath, such as the sheath and the socks. When he stood, he didn’t waver. He hopped easily over to the edge and dove into the deep end.

I watched as he swam over to me, only breaking surface to pull himself up in front of me. “Come in with me,” he suggested softly.

I shook my head. “I don’t have a swimsuit.”

His hands ran up my bare legs to the edges of my shorts. “So?” Our eyes met and locked. He couldn’t really be asking what I thought he was asking. Before I had any chance at all to argue, he grabbed my arms and pulled me into the water.

“Jace!” I squealed as I toppled into the cold pool.

He wore a self-satisfied smirk. “Refreshing, isn’t it?”

Playfully I splashed him, and then swam away before he could retaliate. He was quick on my heels. He lifted me up and dunked me again.

“Of course you know,” I retorted, “this means war.”

I swam after him and then lifted him up to dunk him. We chased each other, splashed each other and played together for long, blissful, uninterrupted minutes. When we finally had to catch our breath, we swam lazily over to the shallow end by the steps. He propped himself up on one arm.

“That’s so much more fun when there’s someone else here,” he said with a crooked smile.

I nodded. Even though I wasn’t planning on getting in the pool, it had been way more fun than I imagined.

“There’s still one problem, though,” he said as he studied me thoughtfully.

My breath caught. “What’s that?”

“You’ve seen what I normally don’t show the world. I think it’s only fair that you show me something, too.” His eyes traveled across my face and down to the wet shirt clinging to me like a second skin.

“You’ve seen it all,” I tried to argue as I crossed my arms in front of myself.

“No, I haven’t,” he insisted as he pulled my arms to my side. “But I’d like to,” he added as his eyes engulfed me, searching for all there was to see. “Show me, Jordi. Don’t be afraid.”

There were tears in my eyes as I searched his for any hint of insincerity. “Jace…”

His eyes darkened as he lowered his head towards mine. His lips playfully toyed with mine until I couldn’t help but respond. He deepened the kiss almost immediately as my lips finally parted. I groaned as I slipped my arms around his neck and pulled him closer.

His hands ran up my back and into my hair. He lifted me easily as he swung me over his lap. I braced myself on the cement behind him. I could feel him strain for my body. “Show me, Jordi,” he said again.

“Someone will see,” I protested but he shook his head.

“No one comes down here, remember? Not once, in all these weeks. We’re all alone,” he promised. “I’ve been dreaming about this moment for months. Don’t make me wait anymore,” he begged as his hands slid up my arms.

My voice was small, like a squeak. “You don’t know what you’re asking.”

“Yes, I do,” he said. “That’s why I am asking it. Show me,” he commanded again.

What do you love about him?

Gestures above.

What do you hate about him?

I can't hate on Jake. I simply can't. He has my heart. I guess the only thing I can hate is that he isn't real.

If you went on a date, where would you go?

Hopefully a boat on a lake on a movie lot, where he'll sing to me.



Who inspired him?

He must be a remnant of a past life or something. He was already in there somewhere.

Who might play him in a movie?

Okay, so... don't laugh but my physical prototype for Jace was a young John Stamos.



But since John is a *tad* older than the Jace character, I had to go find another dark-haired, green-eyed guy. I think he will do nicely...



Do you have a special song that reminds you of him?

Oh yeah. This is their song, one they perform on stage together. She's on stage, singing, yearning for her hero, and then somewhere you can hear the rumble of thunder as a motorcycle circles her. Finally at the big moment at the end, he bursts through a flaming ring to skid to a stop beside her.

Swoon.



Any "Easter Eggs" planted with this book boyfriend?

I can't even talk about it. This was a very personal story, and affects me in much the same way Kate's storyline on This is Us does. It's a kick in the gut. I literally tossed the computer away from me at one point because it just hurt too much to wear this particular skin. Her fears are the same. Her insecurities are the same. Sadly, several of her biggest enemies are the same. Jordi's trainer tells her at one point, "You're a joke and you always will be." Once upon a time that was said to me, verbatim.

Jordi and I share a lot in common, but she's a lot braver than I was.

Where can we find him?

You get to know Jace in FIERCE, which is free today only. The saga continues in UNSTOPPABLE and concludes in EPIC. But the story isn't done. Like Graham and Vanni before him, he showed up in a number of titles, listed below:

ENTANGLED
THE UNDISCIPLINED BRIDE
MASTERS FOREVER
MASKED IN THE MUSIC
FULL-FIGURED FLOOZIES

He's even in my biker Wyndryder saga, which will be republishing hopefully sometime this year.

When I need a hero... I know just who to call.

Valentine #6 - Jake Dalton. My original Prince Charming.

What is the name of today's Valentine?

Jake Dalton



How old is he when we meet him?

Mid-twenties.

What stands out most about him?

He's an old soul. He sees world in a deeper way than most.

Nice guy or douche?

One of the nicest guys I've had the pleasure of writing. He was the first of my romantic heroes that broke through the traditional romance standard and fell for the Rubenesque heroine, even when he had a whole field of more socially acceptable beauties to choose from. He had to be the best of the best.

Favorite moment with him?

Jake and Shannon were the best of friends. They had a certain intimacy between them that only best friends can. It's a safe place where you know what the other person is thinking or feeling, you don't even have to question. See, that's what is missing out of a romantic relationship in the beginning. There's always will they or won't they? Do they or don't they? That's where the butterflies come in, when you have that glimmer of hope they feel about you the way you feel about them, but you don't really know for sure. Every now and then, though, there's this spark of something more as the friendship tries to catch fire. This was the first real moment I truly felt Jake go from her best friend to something more, because he gave ME the butterflies. It was only a split second, but it resounded inside of me like a thousand bells. Kind of like any other "first spark" moment I've ever had in real life...

They ducked inside the limo and were alone at last.

Except for the camera, but Shannon was quickly learning how easy that was to forget.

They sat close together, comfortable old friends.

“I’ve missed you,” he said. “I don’t know what to do with my nights without my favorite IM buddy.”

She laughed. “I’ve seen the video. You have plenty to keep you busy.”

He chewed the corner of his mouth to conceal his embarrassed grin. “Well, you know.”

She nodded. She knew. As much as he’d begun this journey to help her reclaim what Rex stole, he was still human.

“So what’s it like for you? I don’t get to see any tapes,” he reminded her.

Purple feathers and misplaced underwear flashed in her mind. “Thank God.”

That got his attention. “Okay. Now you have to tell me.”

Her entire face turned red as she shook her head. “No way, buster. That’s not how this game is played.”

“You know,” he said, donning his best German accent, “ve have vays of making you talk.” He held up two hands in prime tickle position, which made her giggle before he even touched her.

“You wouldn’t dare!”

He dared. He dove right in and tickled her until she was laughing so hard she could barely breathe. “Okay, okay!” she gasped. “Uncle!”

Mercifully he stopped, but he didn’t move. As she caught her breath she realized that he had her pinned against the seat, their faces mere inches apart. Time stood still as she stared into those baby blues up close. She had dreamed of being in his arms like this, but nothing compared to actually being there. She could feel every muscle as his warm, hard body pressed against her.

“Well?” he whispered with a crooked grin.

“Well what?” she whispered back, having completely forgotten the original line of questioning.

Jake seemed extremely amused. He didn’t move an inch. “What goes on at the Bachelorette Pad when I’m not around?”

“Oh,” she said. She licked her lips which drew his gaze that direction. The butterflies in her stomach clog danced their way to her feet when his eyes briefly glanced down at her mouth.

“Gossiping. Grooming. Sacred shaving rituals. You know. Girl stuff.”

He nodded, but he didn’t look as if he believed her.

And he also didn’t look like he had any intention to let her go. He held her so close she knew he could feel her tremble. Minute by minute, she grew more and more visible, not only as a woman, but as a woman who was developing feelings for a man.

“Jake,” she said softly, almost pleadingly.

His gaze drifted to her mouth and voice was warm like butter when he said, “Shannon.” She had never heard her name said like that before, from anyone, especially her best friend. It promptly turned her insides into goo.

Shannon couldn’t take it anymore, even if it had been part of their overall plan. She scooted out from underneath him to open the tiny refrigerator. “Soda?” she asked without looking him in the eye.

What do you love about him?

He's completely swoon-worthy. An homage of every romantic hero I'd ever read about or watched in a movie.

What do you hate about him?

Like many men, he's thick as a post. He's not stupid, he just has a problem getting a clue. But he has his reasons. We see what we need to see to protect ourselves.

If you went on a date, where would you go?

The great thing about this book was that we got to go on a lot of dates together, and one thing always proved true: No matter where you went or what you did, it was better because he was completely present in the moment.

Who inspired him?

My husband mostly, because I consider him one of my best friends. He brings that humor to my life and he also never lets me get away with the bullshit, like any great friend. And, like Jake and Shannon, my relationship with Steven took me by surprise. I wasn't looking for forever when I met him, but somehow forever found me.

But there were some other influences written in. Hal inspired a lot of Jake's "zen" side. That completely in the moment thing is totally Hal.

Who might play him in a movie?

Hum, good question. How about...?



Do you have a special song that reminds you of him?

I have a song that reminds me of them.



Any "Easter Eggs" planted with this book boyfriend?

One of my favorite scenes in the book is when they head to Vegas for one of their dates, and stand out in front of the Bellagio Fountains. They are at a point where neither can tell the other how they really feel, so they think they need to be apart because that's what the other wants. I deliberately set the scene in this exact spot because standing in front of the Bellagio and hearing this song touched me so much it made me cry. The longing and agony of unrequited love.



Where can we find him?

You get to know Jake in LOVE PLUS ONE, which is free today only. He has also cameoed in the FIERCE
trilogy and in ENTANGLED
. Since he is Alex Fullerton's best friend and Shannon went on to produce a reality TV show with Graham, he's bound to show up anywhere, like any of my best characters.

Enjoy getting to know Jake. (I know I did.)

Valentine #5 - Graham Baxter, my ultimate White Knight

What is the name of today's Valentine?

Graham Baxter



How old is he when we meet him?

He's in his 40s.

What stands out most about him?

He's a major music mogul, powerful and affluent.

Nice guy or douche?

He's one of my nice guys, but man does he have his moments. Going forward... he's definitely one of the wounded douches that my readers seem to love.

Favorite moment with him?

Many of my favorite moments include spoilers, so I can't use those. Instead, I'll take it back to the beginning with him as well. When I first wrote this scene, I had NO idea that Graham was going to be such a key player in my universe. Andy and Vanni were in Las Vegas, where she was working with the band. She wanted him. He wanted her. But he was there with his then girlfriend Lourdes. Vanni tried to convince Andy it wasn't what it seemed, but it was a major thing keeping them apart, because duh. Anyway so my poor Andy was all by herself during one of the parties and I decided SHE needed someone to come along and pick HER first. Andy Foster is no sad sack, following the Great Vanni Carnevale around like a puppy. She was amazing and deserved to be recognized for it. So I wrote in this temporary character, someone completely situational, who would give her a boost to her ego because she needed it. Well, Graham Baxter decided to set up camp to stay and changed the whole story around on its ear. In fact, he was the one who rewrote the original ending for Groupie.

My love for him knows absolutely no bounds.

I quietly exited the balcony area after they left the stage, heading back downstairs to the club that hosted the huge after-party celebrating the first night of the concert series. At first I didn’t see any of the guys, and I felt a little awkward standing there by myself looking like a lost rabbit.

“I hate these things,” I heard a male voice say from behind. I turned to see the manager I sat next to during the first couple of acts. His name was Graham something-or-another, and he had flown in from L.A. to support the opening act.

We had only shared insignificant small talk during the concert, but he was a familiar face at least. “Me too,” I said. “Someone needs to tell famous people not everything is cause for celebration.”

He laughed and then looked down at the empty glass in my hand. “Can I get you another?”

“Sure,” I said, and followed him over to the bar.

He ordered my drink and then turned to me. “Andrea, right?”

“Andy,” I corrected. “And you’re Graham…?”

“Baxter,” he supplied in good humor, then handed me my drink. “So do you work at a firm in Los Angeles?”

I shook my head. “I’m actually just a writer from Nashville, doing a favor for a friend.”

He laughed. “I guess that’s not so bad then. You can come out here, have fun, then go back to the real world on Monday.”

I smiled. “That’s the idea.”

“In that case,” he said as he put his glass on the bar, “Allow me to contribute slightly to the debauchery. Dance with me.”

I started to shake my head but out of the corner of my eye I saw Vanni walk into the room with Lourdes on his arm. I swallowed down the handful of rocks that had mysteriously appeared in my throat, smiled at Graham and said, “Sure.”

He walked me to the center of the floor, and of course the minute we get out there one of DIB’s more suggestive tunes played overhead. Graham rested his arm around my waist and casually pulled me close. “They’re really good,” he said near my ear, referring to the band. “It kills me Jasper Carrington got to them first.”

“Timing is everything,” I remarked as I tried not to look at Vanni, where he stood now with Lourdes at the bar.

“If they ever want a change in management, give them my number,” he said.

I chuckled. “I will.”

He looked down at me with a devilish grin. “And you can have it too. You know, in case things get too boring in Nashville.”

I laughed. He had to be at least forty-five years old, with short, dark hair and a touch of silver at the temples. But he had the warmest brown eyes I had ever seen and a nice smile. There were worse ways to spend an evening in Las Vegas than flirting with a harmless stranger.

I glanced back over at the bar only to spy Vanni and Lourdes dancing close in the corner. This caused me to grip Graham’s shoulders a little tighter, which he seemed to take as a green light to pull me even closer.

The beat of the song was sensual and intense, like a quickening heartbeat. “Say my name,” Vanni crooned from every speaker overhead. “I’ve got what you’ve been waiting for.” I closed my eyes and allowed Graham to swing me around the floor with some fancier footwork. I followed where he guided, surprised my feet even knew what to do to keep up. It didn’t take long for me to realize some other dancers had moved out of our way to watch us dance.

Some of the other guys in the band had come into the club and set up a table in the back with Jasper, who had now arrived. Felix watched me curiously as my dance partner led me into a sexier move in time to the beat. As the song ended Graham dipped me backward with a playful grin and I giggled in spite of myself.

We walked back to the bar. “Not bad for a guy who hates these things.”

“Necessary evil,” he informed. “Besides, my wife insisted we take dance lessons for our wedding.”

I glanced down at his hand. I hadn’t noticed a ring. “You’re married?”

“Occasionally,” he responded in good humor. “It’s an expensive hobby, I’m afraid.”

He perched on the barstool next to mine. “How about you, Andy? Anyone special waiting for you in Nashville?”

I nodded. “His name is Simon.” Graham’s grin faltered just a tad. So I went on. “He’s extremely jealous. And a cover hog. And can unravel a roll of toilet paper in ten seconds flat.”

His eyebrow rose, then together we said, “He’s a cat.” He laughed and then leaned closer to me. “So it wouldn’t be extremely inappropriate then if I gave you my phone number?”

“I suppose not,” I said with a slight blush. “After all that’s information I need if the band ever decides to make a change in management, right?”

He glanced over to where Jasper sat with the band, along with Vanni and Lourdes. Then he looked back with a serious expression. “It may be in poor taste and completely self-serving for me to say so, but I hope that they do. Jasper knows how to make people but he also knows how to break them, too. It can be a toxic environment. He’s going to offer the sun and the moon but God help the person who crosses him. And sometimes that just means standing up for yourself or your principles.”

I looked back at their table. Graham’s warning echoed what Vanni had said back in Brooklyn. His life was not his own, and he felt powerless to change it. Graham dug a card out of his coat pocket, pausing only briefly to write something on the back.

He slipped the card across the bar toward me. I reached for it and he placed his hand on mine. “That warning goes for you too,” he added. “In case you need it.”

His eyes were kind and sincere. Almost fatherly. “Thanks,” I said.

He motioned for the check. “And on that note, I think it’s time I return to the normal, quiet world of my hotel room.” He took my hand in his and brought it to his lips. “But thank you for a lovely dance, Andy from Nashville.”

He graciously paid for both of our tabs, and my eyes lingered after him as he departed. He stopped only momentarily at DIB’s table to say congratulations to the band and to Jasper, who didn’t seem all that pleased to see him. I used the distraction to look down at the business card. My eyes widened when I caught the name of his company. This wasn’t some mid-tier manager. This was Graham Baxter of Baxter Mega-Worldwide Media Corporation… the only record label in the country that could stand toe to toe with Jasper Carrington.

More curious I flipped the card over. The message he had written: Room #1225.

It was a gentlemanly way of orchestrating a booty call, I supposed. But I put the card in my purse anyway. I had no intention of going to his room, but the business information might come in handy someday.

What do you love about him?

This is a solid, solid man. He knows what he wants. He knows how to get it without hurting anyone. He knows how to make things happen. He's kind. He's respectful. He's a grown-up. While Vanni was all fireworks and goosebumps, Graham was as steady as a rock. He provides foundation and security. And if you're the lucky woman who can recognize it, he will give you the whole fucking world.

What do you hate about him?

Because he's a powerful man, he doesn't like it AT all whenever he's not in control. (I relate to this SO much.) He becomes the worst part of himself, and I had to break him down quite a bit, particularly in Rock Star - where I put both him and Vanni through the ringer. He was so fixated on what HE wanted that he became manipulative and quite unkind. It wasn't pretty. And due to events that happened in Masked in the Music/Full-Figured Floozies, it's only going to get MUCH worse from here.

If you went on a date, where would you go?

Los Angeles is Graham's town and he rules over it like a king. We'd likely end up at one of his favorite restaurants or perhaps some red carpet movie/music events, where he'd introduce me to all of the beautiful people who sit atop the charts or rule the box office.

Who inspired him?

My pat answer to this has always been my husband, Steven. Steven's that steady guy, the good guy, the rock. He's the one who took one look at me when I looked like this



... and saw something of value. To me, these are the sexiest guys. When he was with me, he didn't see what other guys saw. He saw my talent, my brain, my sense of humor. Whereas far too many men find those qualities the *bonus* on top of sexual attraction, those things WERE what attracted him. He always treated me like a queen. I was floored when, on our first date, he kissed me - deeply - for the rest of a crowded restaurant to see. By then I was pretty beat up by the world, believing the lie that if I didn't lose the weight or make myself perfect like all the magazine covers said I should, I'd never be worthy of love. I was on the outside looking in to the world around me, even in my most intimate relationships. I was still that fat girl who was good enough to romance on the down low, but nothing you'd ever show the world you'd chosen. But Steven never cared what other people thought. He found me sexy and decided to show me. It was revolutionary. He's the kind of guy that, when we go to events with other women, he will go out of his way to make sure THEY feel special too. One memorable moment was when we went to Hal's Charmageddon party and he was the lone guy at a table with mostly single women, and made sure to buy each one of them a rose so they wouldn't feel left out. Like Graham, he is the ultimate White Knight.

But now I kinda see that Graham was *me* in a lot of ways in that story. Due to the personal nature of the events that inspired Groupie, I was also the lone woman out much of the time, the steady rock people could depend on, but one ultimately discarded because there was no fireworks and goosebumps.

Quite an epiphany for a Sunday morning. O_O I guess this is why I'm not done with Graham yet...

Who might play him in a movie?

Like Vanni, I cast this guy from the start, too. With another member of my elite Laminated List...



Do you have a special song that reminds you of him?

Oddly enough, I don't. Will have to think on this one...

Any "Easter Eggs" planted with this book boyfriend?

Apparently a big one, considering the epiphany above!

Where can we find him?

Where CAN'T you find my beloved Graham? You first meet Graham in GROUPIE. His story, however, really picks up in ROCK STAR, which is FREE today only. I try to give him some closure at least with MOGUL. But he's a major player in SO many of my books, my ultimate White Knight who comes in right when my characters need him to work his magic.

FIERCE
UNSTOPPABLE
EPIC
ENTANGLED
THE UNDISCIPLINED BRIDE
SOUTHERN ROCKER BOY
SOUTHERN ROCKER GIRL
SOUTHERN ROCKER SHOWDOWN
MASTERS FOR LIFE
MASTERS FOREVER
MASKED IN THE MUSIC
FULL-FIGURED FLOOZIES

It is in Full-Figured Floozies, in fact, that Graham's perfect world comes crashing down (again.) My favorite guy will soon need a White Knight himself, which means another book with Graham, with Andy, with Vanni...

Like in almost every single one of my books, there's so much more story beyond the HEA, including a MAJOR war between Graham and his nemesis Jasper Carrington.

It's gonna be so good, you guys. And it's coming by 2018.

(But don't worry, there's PLENTY to read in the meantime...)

Valentine #4 - The one... the only... Vanni

What is the name of today's Valentine?

Giovanni Carnevale - otherwise known as Vanni.



How old is he when we meet him?

Pushing 30, which is kinda old for an emerging rock star but he had quite a few reasons to put off his dream. You can learn about those reasons in his prequel, "Vanni."

What stands out most about him?

He's walking sex and he knows it. Voice. Presence. He was born to be a star.

Nice guy or douche?

"Or"?

Favorite moment with him?

How can I pick just one? I guess we'll just have to start at the beginning...

I was still smiling when the bartender slid a beer my way. Before I could dig any money out of my wallet, a strong hand cut across my chest to lay a few bills on the bar. “It’s on me.”

I turned right into the glistening, naked chest of Giovanni. My eyes shot up to his, and he hovered over my 5’5 frame with lanky grace.

“Thanks,” I offered as I hid behind the long neck bottle.

“Thank you,” he said.

“For what?”

He leaned down toward me and whispered in my ear, “Great scenery during the show.”

I caught his lopsided grin as he glanced down at my expanse of cleavage. From the heat in my face, I knew I must have blushed at least two shades of red. “I didn’t think you noticed,” I replied as I looked away.

“I notice everything,” he assured me. “Especially when it’s put there for me to notice.”

I wanted to deny it but I couldn’t. “You know what they say,” I quipped. “Play the hand you’re dealt.”

He just laughed. “That wasn’t a complaint. I quite enjoyed the view. I wanted to see more but it was a bit like looking into the sun during an eclipse.” He leaned on the bar. “Be careful how you wield that weapon.”

I tipped my beer toward his chest, which was now dangerously close to my own. “Ditto.”

This made him laugh even more. “I guess we’re even then.”

“Not really,” I answered.

His eyebrow rose. “No?”

I took another sip of liquid courage. “To be even I’d have to take my shirt off.”

It was a brazen thing for someone like me to say. Not that I didn’t know how to flirt, or even be sexy, it was just never something I’d say to a half-naked man I didn’t even know.

But if he could play havoc with my senses by being on sex overload, I could return at least some of the favor.

His eyes deepened as he leaned toward me. “You have a point. Maybe we should go somewhere and rectify this grievous injustice.”

This was where I should have handed him my hotel key, but I wasn’t that far out of Tennessee. I cocked my own eyebrow. “Or you could just put your shirt on.”

He tipped me a mock salute. “Well played.” He made no move to put a shirt on, mind you. If I wasn’t imagining things, he actually scooted a little closer to me. I could barely see past those incredible eyes that were doing wonderfully sexy things to me without having to leave the room at all.

I cleared my throat. “Shouldn’t you hang around to see what Jasper Carrington has to say?”

He bestowed a sexy smirk. “Iris tells me I should always leave them wanting more. What’s more attractive than a star you can’t quite catch?”

Indeed.

He motioned to the gyrating crowd in the center of the bar. “Care to dance?”

“I don’t really…,” I started, my standard protest cocked and ready to fire. But he wasn’t listening. He grabbed my hand in his and was already leading me through the crowd onto the tiny dance floor. It was so crowded and so tiny that we ended up plastered together, as if the glistening sweat from his earlier performance bound us together like some sort of sensual adhesive.

I didn’t even really know how to dance, so I let him lead the motions from the moment his arms locked around my waist. My breath caught when his fingertips pressed into the soft, generous curves of my backside. He ground against me in time to the music, a primal thundering beat that pulsated between the sexually charged lyrics. When he started to sing directly into my ear, I nearly melted right to the floor. His breath was warm against my neck and I felt his open mouth against my skin. In that moment the world disappeared. I was faced with one inescapable truth.

I had just been hit by lightning—and his name was Giovanni Carnevale.

What do you love about him?

Those eyes. That hair. That *voice.* He oozes sex and you can't help indulging just a little taste. He's charming. Romantic. Talented. Wounded. Lost. Fearless. You could easily lose yourself in him forever just trying to figure him out, yet he'll always surprise you.

What do you hate about him?

That ego, man. He needs more attention and more love than you could ever give him, though you will want to try until you can't try anymore. He'll pull you in with surprising vulnerability, which will make you want to save him almost as much as you want to strangle him when he self-destructs and breaks your heart all over again.

Or so I'm told, anyway. ;)



If you went on a date, where would you go?

Knowing Vanni, he'd want to make it memorable. New York City is his town, so he'd probably encourage I enjoy every bite of the Big Apple, but I'm not sure we'd get too far away from his Brooklyn apartment...

Who inspired him?

That is the question, isn't it?







Who might play him in a movie?

I actually cast this character when I sat down to write, selecting a guy who sits securely and uncontested atop of my own personal laminated list. If you're going to indulge a life-long fantasy, you might as well, right? However, Vanni morphed into his own guy so I have NO idea who might play him. Still waiting on lightning to strike. Open to suggestions...



Do you have a special song that reminds you of him?

What song DON'T I have for Vanni?





But as far as a love theme... there was really only one.



Any "Easter Eggs" planted with this book boyfriend?

So many. So, so many. The places they traveled. The things they did. The people they met. The whole story itself was deeply rooted in my own personal fantasies, while working through my own personal experiences. I'll just say this, Andy's circle of friends was based on real people - Iris in particular.

Where can we find him?

You first meet Vanni in GROUPIE, which is free today only. The story continues in ROCK STAR, which we will talk more about tomorrow, and concludes with MOGUL. There's the prequel, VANNI, but if you would rather move forward than backward, pick up the following books:

FIERCE
UNSTOPPABLE
EPIC
ENTANGLED
SOUTHERN ROCKER BOY
SOUTHERN ROCKER GIRL
SOUTHERN ROCKER SHOWDOWN
MASKED IN THE MUSIC
FULL-FIGURED FLOOZIES

Do yourself a favor and indulge yourself in a little Vanni today. Unless, of course, you need your bad boys to be mostly good... in which case you might want to skip this Valentine and wait instead for who's coming tomorrow.

Valentine #3 - Mateo Bravo

What is the name of today's Valentine?

Mateo Bravo.



How old is he when we meet him?

Mid-to-late 20s.

What stands out most about him?

He has a very commanding presence considering his modest station in life. I had to meet those meager circumstances with a much stronger personality, and he definitely rose to every challenge.

Nice guy or douche?

He comes off as a douche, but it's really just a big chip on his shoulder. That's probably true of a lot of men, come to think about it.

Favorite moment with him?

When he puts Peyton in her place. She is a BIOTCH when we first start this story. And she's god-awful to him, proudly demonstrating every single hateful bigoted characteristic that Mateo has grown to despise from the rich and entitled over the years. She's used to running the show and thinks the world around her is there to do her bidding. When he realizes that she wants him, he takes *great* pleasure showing her that she can't snap her fingers and he'll come running. I think this is where I fell in love with him, actually.

“From the unused feel of your kitchen, I guess we’ll start with the basics. This,” he held up the pan, “is a pan. It is commonly used to heat food.”

She crossed her arms in front of her. “There’s no need to patronize me, Mr. Bravo.”

He grinned. “I like the sound of that coming from your lips, Miss Prescott.” He put the pan on the counter and walked over to where she stood. He grabbed her hands in his, turning them over to inspect their softness. “You’ve never even washed a dish, have you, Princess?”

Her eyebrow arched defiantly. “That’s what I pay other people to do.”

His dark eyes glittered as he stared down at her. She felt like she hit a nerve, but he was decidedly pokerfaced. “Better watch out,” he said in the same good humor. “You leave enough chores to the hired hand, and your husband may run off with a maid who isn’t too good to get her hands dirty.”

She snatched her hands back, which made Mateo smirk even more. He turned back to the sink, filling the pan with water. He placed it on the stove, turning the heat up to medium. He then leaned against the counter and crossed one foot over the other to watch her. Long moments passed without his saying a word. He just inspected her from where he stood. His eyes traveled over her face, down her exposed décolletage, and down toward her endless legs, shown off by the short hem of her skirt.

The longer he didn’t say anything, the antsier she got. She ended up crossing her arms across her chest, which she had originally bared for his benefit. To have him so brazenly inspect the goods without crossing the four feet between them made her feel cheap somehow. And she didn’t like it.

So she turned the tables on him and inspected his form as well. Every inch of clothing he wore clung to his body, which even in a relaxed state showed off the impressive cut of his muscular form. His thighs were powerful and strong, and his chest strained against the thin cotton fabric of his T-shirt. The bulge in his pants hinted at a promise not yet fulfilled, and the longer they stood there in that awkward silence made her fidget even more. Neither one seemed willing to be the first to close the gap between them and act on the undeniable chemistry that crackled in the air.

It was yet another battle of wills.

She could easily imagine walking over to him, or he to her, and stepping into that strong circle of his arms. He would lift her up on the counter and step easily between her legs, which would close behind him until her ankles locked. He’d dive into her neck, nuzzling against the graceful slope, nibbling at her lightly scented skin as her fingers crawled down his back and up again under his shirt.

She could practically feel his solid muscles under her fingers, which curled in a tight attempt not to rush over to where he stood and climb him like a jungle gym.

His eyes were dark and from the hint of a smirk he wore, she knew that he was following her thoughts exactly. The longer they stood there, the more they indulged this erotic game of chicken. Neither was ready to yield the power to the other by making the first move.

Instead they stood four feet apart the entire ten minutes it took the water to boil. When he moved to turn off the burner, she actually took a breath in relief. He moved the pan onto another, cool burner, then he crossed over to where she stood. “Lesson one: how to boil water,” he said with a slight grin. Softly he added, “You just have to leave things alone until they get hot enough.”

She gulped. Just as she was about to respond, assuming that the seduction part of their evening had commenced, Mateo turned for the door. “Tomorrow night we’ll talk about something more advanced. Like melting butter.”

She was flabbergasted as she chased him to her front door. “Are you kidding me? An entire lesson on how to boil water?”

He shrugged as he tossed, “Like I said, we have to start with the basics,” over his shoulder. He didn’t stop until he got to the door, which is where Peyton finally cornered him.

“If you think I’m paying $1500 for a couple of ten minute lessons, you’re crazy.”

Another damnable shrug. “You agreed to two lessons per week at that rate. Nothing was ever said about their duration.” He paused as he looked down at her. “But you’re right. We haven’t taken care of everything.”

He shut the door and then turned to face her. As he advanced toward her, she unconsciously took steps backward until he had her pressed up against the wall. His head dipped toward hers until their mouths were a breath apart. She felt the hard lines of his body pressing into hers as he held back his kiss in sweet torture. Finally she gasped, “What do you want?”

He bent even closer until their lips nearly met. “The check,” he said with that evil grin.

With an angry snarl she pushed him away. “Fuck you,” she said again, and again he replied, “Maybe someday. But not today.”

What do you love about him?

He's a deeply layered guy. He'd be easy to dismiss on the face of it, and a lot of people would. I wanted a "regular" guy to get a shot at romance, so I turned the tables and made HER the rich one. But how he was able to stand on equal footing to her every step of the way, despite the labels that could have kept them separate, indicates a powerful confidence and strength that money simply can't buy.

What do you hate about him?

He's a deeply layered guy. For all he does, he shows very little. His true intentions haven't always been pure. His hatred is understandable, but it helps nothing if he perpetuates it.

If you went on a date, where would you go?

He's a cook, so I imagine a HELL of a home-cooked meal. But a glass elevator would be okay too. (Chapter 11. Woof.)

Who inspired him?

He was born in my imagination. The whole story took me by surprise, particularly the subplot.

Who might play him in a movie?



Do you have a special song that reminds you of him?

It'd have to be something sexy. Because, damn.



Any "Easter Eggs" planted with this book boyfriend?

The elevator scene was inspired by real life events. That is all I am at liberty to say.

Where can we find him?

You get to meet him in THE UNDISCIPLINED BRIDE, but my Bravo caterers show up in a TON of books, including FULL-FIGURED FLOOZIES.

Stay tuned for a hot new Valentine tomorrow.