Lorraine Nelson's Blog, page 20
August 6, 2012
New Release!!! Ecstasy Entwined by Ju Dimello!
It’s my pleasure to host my friend and cp, Ju Dimello, in honor of her
second release with Ellora’s Cave. Ecstasy Entwined will have you riveted to your seat as you read the story of how a vamp and a siren get together. I loved it! And I’m sure you will, too. Don’t you just love that sexy cover?
Blurb:
A siren whose voice can kill and a vampire who strips her fears along with her clothes. Over the phone or with sex toys, this vampire hopes to deliver some fangtastic orgasms.
Elena is lonely, until she meets Gregory. The hot, mysterious vampire shatters the barriers she’s erected around her heart. She sheds her inhibitions, reveling in her sexual surrender. But a true relationship is out of the equation since her voice might kill him.
Gregory has never allowed his lust and need for blood to mingle. The mind-blowing sex with Elena not only strains his control, but also brings out a hidden dark streak. Does he dare hope she can assuage the dangerous need she’s ignited in him?
Ready for more? Here’s an Excerpt:
Chapter One
“My voice kills people.” Her sultry voice faded into a whisper as she delivered the truth he’d been waiting for.
Gregory Lathrop covered the mouthpiece with his hand and swore. What were the freaking odds?
Elena.
Her name whispered across his brain and settled in his chest. Intrigue warred with the overflowing, yet inexplicable, emotions she sparked in him.
He leaned back into the chair, hoping to ease his fierce erection. Instead, the movement backfired.
Shit!
The slide of the zipper against his cock, even through his briefs, made him ache as much as her voice did.
She was so controlled and spoke so damn softly that he wondered what it’d take to make her scream. He wanted to be the one who unleashed all her pent-up passion.
Fascination was a mild word for the curiosity she evoked. The shades of beige and brown—colors he’d chosen specifically for their calming properties—decorating his office barely reined in his clashing emotions. An eternal war raged within him, where hope battled caution. Hope persuaded him to take a chance, not let his potential mate slip by him, while caution born out of memories of vampires slaughtered by humans held him back.
Since he’d started the midnight helpline as a cover-up to provide a hope of refuge for preternatural beings, nothing should surprise him much. The vampires he employed to work the night shifts directed any mortals who called in to a different section while working to earn the trust of immortals.
He’d been obsessed with her from the moment she’d called his helpline. The unbidden attraction could fall into either category—good or very bad.
He clutched the phone as tightly as a lifeline and let out a strangled growl. “That’s the secret you’ve been holding out on me for months?”
He sensed her hesitation. Of course she’d be wary. Anyone would be. Inevitably, they came together in the end. Elena was no different. Once she opened up completely, he’d let her know about their underground immortal network and bring her in. Until then, he’d keep up the charade.
Any paranormal calling the nocturnal helpline needed a lot more than a vampire’s thrall to let down their guard. As one of the oldest among his kind, he’d perfected the art of coaxing the information he wanted.
“You can trust me with anything, Lena.”
Her breath hitched. “Yes.”
Even the slightest sound from her lips sent his imagination toppling over the cliff. She stirred his lust and taunted his hunger as if she were born for the sole purpose of tormenting him with fantasies.
Try as he might, he couldn’t prevent the surge of bloodlust, even on the phone. Not even when she’d just admitted who she was, or rather, what she was. Though his life spanned millennia, he’d never encountered a real siren.
Even in the middle of his work night, all he could think of was her—naked and sprawled for his pleasure. Spreading her pale thighs. He’d lick her glistening juices while working his fingers into her tight ass, driving her mindless with frenzy. She’d moan, beg him to fill her, to fuck her. His control would be sorely tested with her mewling cries and throaty demands. He wouldn’t give in, no matter how much he wanted to bury himself in her tightness again and again. He’d hold on until she shattered beneath his sensual onslaught and then he’d start all over. He’d…
He shook his head, clearing the dangerous, yet enticing, images. Over the centuries, he’d never met anyone who could churn such emotions within him. And now, all he could think of was getting her naked. Impossible over the phone, but he hoped she’d give him more details. Eventually.
The vampire in him didn’t want to wait for such formalities, but he held on, exerting every inch of patience he possessed rather than tearing through all of New York, ripping the ends of the earth apart to get to her. The sane, logical part of him warned him to take it slow. She’d come to trust him enough to share her secret. He needed to go one step at a time, hoping for more. Knowing the sensible recourse of his actions wasn’t the issue—controlling himself was. Insidious whispers filled his brain, logic driven away by feral lust.
“Tell me what you’re thinking, Gregory.”
Her words brought him back to the conversation with a wry smile. She never shortened his name, as if she still inhabited an era where using proper names was the trend. He should know, having lived through enough of them to tell the tales. Except, he’d never had anyone to share them with.
“Gregory? You still there?”
His name, spilling from her in that soft breathy voice, only heightened the lust fogging his brain. Crossing his legs didn’t ease the incessant throbbing down south. He let out a pent-up breath of frustration. “Sweetheart, if I don’t hear from you again, it might just kill me.”
There. Let her handle the truth!
“You sure know how to make a woman feel better.” Her broken laugh sounded suspiciously like a sob.
His instincts clamored to reach out to her, to protect her. “Elena, are you all right?”
“I suppose I am. I’m not sure.”
“What the hell—on earth—do you mean?” He attempted, but failed, to quell his concerned growl. What was she unleashing in him?
“I wonder why I’m living anymore.”
Concern washed over his undead heart, tension coiling in his guts. This wasn’t about him or about the darkness threatening to consume him whole. The one female he cared about was losing it and all he could think of was himself and his crazy urges?
Get your shit together, Lathrop.
Cursing silently, he sat up straighter. She’d trusted him enough to reveal the truth. He could very well deliver the practiced speech, give her the required information necessary to hook up with other immortals and be done with it. Done with her.
Even the thought of letting her go made him want to roar his denial.
“There’s always a purpose to life,” he started, and gritted his teeth. He sounded as if he was a freaking philosopher and, hoping he made sense, he spat out the rest. “Even if we aren’t aware of it right now.”
Hopefully she wouldn’t ask him what he meant or expect further explanations. The thrall in his voice could calm her down and he wasn’t above using a little of his powers where, or for whom, it counted the most.
“Tell me what happened.”
She sighed. “I slept with one—a man.”
Fury crashed, mingling into his system as though a potent poison. Did the man hurt her? If he’d even laid a finger on her, Greg wouldn’t hesitate to tear him apart limb from limb.
“The sex was fun. Even refreshing,” she continued, seemingly unaware of the fear, for her, rampaging through him.
His voice went low, dangerous to his own ears. “But?”
Her sniffles turned into hiccups as she obviously controlled her urge to bawl and his heart squeezed. So brave, his little warrior, and so alone. Just like him.
“He died.”
“What? How?” He bellowed right into her ears and regretted his shout the moment the line went silent. She needed his assurance, not his outburst. Her confusion, and the identity crisis that had propelled her to seek assistance from his helpline, seeped through the barrier around his heart, urging him to battle on her behalf.
“What exactly happened?” he asked. “And when?”
“Umm—a couple of years ago.”
Decades, he surmised by the hesitation in her voice, but waited for her to open up and spill her guts. He’d never been so affected by another’s plight to date. Sleeping with women, yes. Embroiled in their emotions, no, never.
Not since the fateful day he became a vampire. “Speak to me, love.”
Her tears washed away the momentary panic that arose with his use of the L-word. Each sob tore at him through the distance separating them. She hiccupped again. “One moment everything seemed fine. I think I cried out and then…”
“Go on.”
“Then he twitched a bit and went still. I immediately called the cops. The coroner pronounced him dead of a cardiac arrest. But I—I know it was my voice. I killed him, Gregory.”
Survival of a vampire depended on listening to the unsaid and watching out for the unseen. He’d long ago learned to trust his instincts and they now screamed to get to her, to ease her pain and keep her demons at bay.
What would her blood taste like?
He’d heard whispers, of course, of the one woman capable of taunting his lust and igniting a rampant need for blood. He’d sneered at those rumors, chalking them up to old wives’ tales. Fucking was for pleasure and blood necessary for survival. He’d never let either mingle or get out of hand—his cock and fangs, literally. The hunger searing through him threatened to shatter his illusions to pieces.
She needed him; she just didn’t know it yet.
Thankful he’d had the foresight or plain common sense to install soundproofing in his office, he readied himself to explore the unparalleled fascination he seemed to have developed for her over the past few months. Time to up the stakes.
“Sweetheart, I have a sure-fire way to help you forget. You up for it?”
For a moment, he was afraid she didn’t hear him, wouldn’t respond to the verbal thrall he’d put her under.
A terse few seconds passed before a small sound came from her end. “Maybe.”
Battling his relief at her acquiescence and the increasing onslaught of lust settling in his groin, he took a deep breath and let his control slip more than a bit. “Focus on me, Lena.”
“Gregory…?”
Her soft hesitation spread as if it was a wildfire, heating his bloodstream. The hiss of the air conditioner was the only sound in his office before he cleared his throat and began his seduction.
“What are you wearing tonight?”
You can find Ju at:
http://www.facebook.com/ju.dimello
Purchase Links:
http://www.jasminejade.com/p-10225-ecstasy-entwined.aspx
http://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-ecstasyentwined-906328-340.html
August 4, 2012
New Release: Talbot’s Ploy by Kastil Eavenshade
The spotlight today is on a very talented fellow author at Evernight Publishing, Kastil Eavenshade, and her new release, Talbot’s Ploy . Thank you for coming to visit today, Kastil!
Thank you, Lorraine, for giving me a little room on your blog. It is much appreciated. Today, I am here to offer a sampling of my latest book Talbot’s Ploy. Based in 18th century France, it’s a story about two friends who become lovers. While it’s not my first dip into the m/m pool, it is my first historical. Pop goes my cherry on that one!
In Talbot’s Ploy, I wanted to show the struggles–without getting overly preachy–of a gay male in that time period. I found a lot of resources to draw on, especially on the terminology and punishment should they get caught ‘in the act’. I really enjoyed creating the character of Talbot. He was, at first, just going to be the minor character, but his personality wore me down. What a naughty diva in wolf’s clothing he is. Please enjoy the excerpt below.
BLURB:
Talbot Sauvageot has kept his wicked lifestyle underground for several years, going from one lover to the next. Decadent rake to females by day, passionate lover for his latest male companion at night. When he is forced to flee Paris or face the guillotine, Talbot realizes none of the men he has bedded over the years burns at his soul like his dear friend Maxime LaRue.
Forced into seclusion in the forest of Bois de Lunor, he receives an invitation from Maxime for their yearly gathering at his estate in Varanguebec. One that Talbot has avoided the past few years. Refusing to submit to a life without love, Talbot schemes to discover if his childhood friend shares the same taste in pleasure as he.
Will Maxime submit to Talbot’s ploy or cast his friend in the shadow of death?
EXCERPT:
“Paris?” Talbot snorted. “It is nothing but a vile city filled with close-legged maidens. No place for a refined fornicator such as myself. Now if you’ll excuse me, gentlemen, the sun stings my eyes and the cognac does nothing to alleviate my symptoms.” Talbot stood, grasping the liquor bottle. “To your health and happiness, Maxime. May your cock find your bride-to-be wet and willing.” He pressed the bottle to his lips and took a long drag before staggering to the doors leading inside.
“I see his flare has not diminished stuck in the countryside.” Delron chuckled. “Hearty congratulations, my friend. Though I do ponder onto where we shall have our gatherings should this marriage stick.”
“I am sure Talbot will dust off his abode and send invites soon enough.” Maxime waved his friend off.
“Have you not heard?” Landis said.
“Heard what?”
“Talbot’s father has disavowed any and all rights to his inheritance for his insatiable need to stick wick in whatever dark crevice that shines when he is within his cups.” Landis leaned back in his chair. “I assumed he would confide in you since your relationship has been closer than any of us.”
Maxime rubbed his temples. When Talbot had arrived for their yearly get together, early and unannounced, he’d thought nothing of it. His friend often showed up at the spur of the moment and Maxime opened his doors wide. “He has told me nothing and I shall not discuss it unless he brings it up. I have known him long enough to know something must have happened beyond his rakish nature.” Maxime stretched his legs. “Stay, friends, for as long as you wish. I have to make ready for my bride.” He bowed slightly to his friends, offering a smirk and a wink, and walked away.
Inside, Maxime rung his hands and paced along the great hall. If his father knew about Talbot’s inheritance being stripped away, he would force Maxime to send him away. Men without titles had no place in their upper echelon. A cold feeling slithered inside his belly and he headed for the stairs leading to the guest chambers. He couldn’t let last night and the news Landis shared hang like a black cloud.
At the end of the hall, Talbot leaned against the stone wall. He teetered to one side as he downed the last of the amber liquid in his bottle. Maxime frowned. He wanted his friend sober for their conversation. His friend’s head swiveled and Maxime stared into Talbot’s icy blue eyes.
The oppressive heat of the upper level accented by the high sun had Maxime sucking in a deep breath. He tried to rationalize that the thick air left him short of breath and not the way Talbot’s shirt lay open. Beads of sweat glistened on his bare chest.
“Talbot.”
“You cannot marry her, Maxime.” The bottle slipped from Talbot’s fingers. It clanked on the floor but did not shatter. He stumbled along the wall.
“I have no choice.” He tensed as the smell of alcohol hit his nose.
“There is always a choice.” Talbot came inches from his face.
Maxime pressed against the wall, his gaze never leaving Talbot’s. “Non, my friend. I must marry. It will not lessen our friendship. I will always welcome you under my roof.”
“Even if a rake like me invades your bedchamber?”
Maxime let out a nervous laugh, the heat of Talbot’s skin searing his flesh. “I trust you, mon ami. You have been in many beds but none were married women.”
“It is not your future wife that should be cautious.” Talbot claimed his mouth and Maxime groaned against the invasion.
Stalking Links:
Blog: http://kastil.wordpress.com/
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/#!/KastilEavenshade
Twitter: https://twitter.com/#!/PamBitner
Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5283903.Kastil_Eavenshade
Purchase links for Kastil’s Blog-o-rama Tour of Decadence™:
http://www.evernightpublishing.com/talbots-ploy-by-kastil-eavenshade (For a limited time, save 15%)
http://www.amazon.com/Talbots-Ploy-ebook/dp/B008R3OFNA/ref=sr_1_3?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1343731338&sr=1-3
http://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-talbot039sploy-903011-145.html
http://www.bookstrand.com/talbots-ploy-mm
Kastil is also offering a copy of Talbot’s Ploy to one lucky commenter. Draw date, August 12th.
August 3, 2012
Q & A with Joanne Stewart!
Today I welcome Joanne Stewart to my blog to help celebrate the release of her debut novel, The Playboy’s 
Baby. Congratulations, Joanne!!!
Joanne and I first met while haunting the Harlequin online forums, asking questions, and learning from the pros of romance. I’m so pleased to be part of her blog tour for this wonderful story. So, sit back, relax, and enjoy getting to know Joanne as I interview her.
First, the bio…
Joanne Stewart
J.M. writes what she likes to call sweet and spicy contemporary romance. She’s a stay-at-home mom by trade, married to her very own hero. They live in the Great Northwest with their two boys and two very spoiled puppies. J.M. has been devouring romances for as long as she can remember. Writing them has become her passion.
Welcome, Joanne!
Hi Lorraine! Thanks for having me!
What first decided you on writing?
A dream, actually. It was all very random. I had a dream one night, and it bugged me for days. I saw a story in that dream and it called to me, demanded to be written down. So one day I did, and this story emerged.
Your books are classified as Contemporary Romance. Everyone needs a little romance in their lives, but I’m curious. What draws you to write this type of story?
Oh, I’m a sucker for a good love story. I’m such a sap. lol I’ve been reading romance since I was a teenager. I don’t even remember how I picked them up, but I’ve been hooked for a while. I love watching two people fall in love. Almost everybody wants to fall in love, it’s what most people search for, sometimes their whole lives. And of course, I’m a believer in fate, that there’s someone out there for everyone. I like watching people find that someone. Reading itself is a fantasy for me. I want to get lost in someone else’s world, and these are my modern-day fantasies.
Where did the idea for The Playboy’s Baby come from?
Ahahaha. I was afraid someone would ask me that. I originally started this book over seven years ago, so I don’t actually remember anymore. But…I was reading a lot of category back then, and I recall this being my twist on the secret baby and the wealthy hero themes.
What comes first, names of H/h, location or plot?
Names first, almost always. I usually get the characters first, so I get at least the first names. Then location. I usually have to drag the plot out by its toenails. lol
Are you a plotter or pantser?
I’m a bit of both. I used to be a pantser all the way. I could set down with a vague idea and a couple of characters and just write. But as my craft grew and I actually learned how to write, I find that I need a few things before I can really dig into a book. I need to know my characters a bit. Who they are, names, a bit of background, at least some of their GMC, and what my premise is. Then I let the characters take me. I don’t actually formally plot. It’s more ideas in my head. I don’t write anything down. So over time, the idea usually evolves.
When do you find the time to write? What is your typical writing day/night?
I’m a housewife, so I don’t work outside the home. So I have all day to write. Typical day starts at 6am, when the dogs get me up and demand breakfast. Then it’s coffee and checking email. Writing is whenever the mood strikes me, off and on in between housework. I stop for lunch.
Do you ever have trouble getting into the ‘writing zone’?
All the time. Happens a lot lately, actually. I find that I have to be in the mood sometimes and I’m one of those writers that if I force it, all I’ll get out of myself is pure crap. I tend to psyche myself out a lot. I worry about everything and it sucks up my creativity. So these days, I’m trying to get back to basics. Trusting myself and remembering that I love doing this. It’s hard sometimes when I get caught up in trying to write the next bestseller.
My characters ‘speak’ to me as I write their story. Do yours?
Yes. They keep me up at all hours of the night, won’t let me sleep, and they shove me aside and take over my novels. “No no no, we’re doing it this way.” And if I don’t do it right, they stop speaking to me. And that’s a bad thing because then they pout. Or throw a fit. Either way, I get no sleep until I meet their demands. 
If you had to describe yourself, what three words best suit you?
Oh this is hard. Empathetic, soft-hearted, family-oriented. Wait, that’s four words. lol Not when they’re hyphenated. You’re safe!
If someone else described you, what three words would they use? *evil grin*
Oh now this one depends on who you ask.
Strangers or people who don’t know me well… Quiet, nice, mysterious
My husband or people who know me well? goofy, emotional (not always a good thing), big-hearted
Do you think you’ll try your hand at different genres in the future? If so, which ones?
I would love to write a paranormal. I have an idea and a scene I’ve written down, but I don’t really have a paranormal brain. Most paranormals are shifters and vampires. IOW, alternate reality stuff, and I’m all about realism. I prefer my fantasies to be something that could actually happen. So, I don’t have a plot for it yet. But I’d love to write one.
What pearls of wisdom would you like to impart to aspiring writers?
Write from the heart. Learn your craft, of course. Work to strengthen it and make it the best you can be. But write from the heart. Someone’s going to kill me for saying this, but I say forget trends, forget shoulds and shouldn’ts. Write a story from the heart and it’ll find its place in a reader’s heart.
And I say this because I can get caught up trying to write what I think people want, rather than doing what’s right for my characters and the story. It gets me stuck sometimes, because I can’t write according to a trend. I have my own style and I know it. So I find freedom is simply telling my story, my way, then trusting that somewhere out there is someone who wants to read it. So that would be my advice to others. Be you and write from the heart, from your heart. I think it transfers onto paper. You can tell a book that came from someone’s heart as opposed to one written for a trend. The ones that touch the heart are the ones people talk about, that people pass on to their friends. At least, I do anyway.
Favorites:
Author? Diana Gabaldon.
Book? Outlander
Car? The “bumble bee” car from the Transformers movie. I had to look that one up. It’s a Camaro. In orange.
Color? I have two—blue and lavender
Desktop or Laptop? laptop
Dessert? brownies, but really, anything chocolately, gooey, and cakey. So cookies are up there, too. lol
Holiday? Halloween. Makes me feel like a kid. I miss it now that my own aren’t into it anymore.
Movie? Oh geez, this one’s hard. The Green Mile, City of Angels, Grease (both of them).
Vacation Spot? the beach. Give me some soft, warm sand, a bit of sun (okay, I live in Seattle—give me a lot of sun! lol), and the ocean.
The Playboy’s Baby recently released through Etopia Press.
I love the cover!
Thanks! Me, too!
What prompted you to write this story? How long did it take?
It took roughly three months, but it did get revised along its journey to being published.
What prompted me to write it? Honestly? I haven’t the foggiest. lol As I mentioned, I started this book years ago, so I don’t actually remember where the idea came from or even when the characters came to me. I’ve been wracking my brain and coming up blank. lol But…I wrote about the first three chapters way back then and hit a speed bump. Some personal stuff cropped up and I hit a road block in my writing. A major case of writer’s block. Couldn’t write to save my life, so those first three chapters were all I was able to pull out of myself.
When I finally picked up the “pen” again, this was the first story I completed. What prompted me to finish it was the need to complete it. The characters were calling to me. I hate the thought of them not getting their HEA. I couldn’t just leave them hanging.
What characteristics/personality traits make your hero and heroine memorable?
My heroine, Emma, is the type of woman who puts herself last. She puts her family first and always has. She’s lived her entire life doing everything for everyone else. Helped raise her sister when her mother was sick, then gained custody of her sister when their mother died. At the start of the story, her sister has died, and she’s left in charge of her niece.
Dillon. He was fun to write. He’s a big guy, but he’s a big teddy bear. He has a big heart, and he’s a bit of spoiled brat. He’s wealthy and he likes it that way, but he made his own money. He thinks someone needs to take care of Emma and he’s determined to be the man to do it. He has a reputation as a playboy he admits he earned, but he’s grown up and trying to change his image. When he finds out he has a daughter, he doesn’t deny it or try to get out of it. He steps up to the plate. I think he’s the kind of guy girls want to rely on, lean on.
Can you share the blurb?
They can’t forget the past, but is it enough to create a future?
When an accident leaves her guardian to her six-month-old niece, Emma Stanton must return to her small hometown of Hastings, Montana to find the one man she’s spent the last eight years trying to forget. She and Dillon had grown up together–he was her sister’s best friend. But that hadn’t stopped him from sharing a kiss with Emma that had followed her through the years. Now, not only must she break the news of her sister’s tragic death to Dillon, but she must risk the only family she has left and tell him he’s the baby’s father.
Wealthy nightclub owner Dillon James has been used for his name and money one too many times, so when he comes face-to-face with Emma Stanton and her gorgeous lips, he’s determined to keep things light. All he wants is to be the father his daughter needs, to make up for not being there for her and her mother. But spending time with Emma, as she shows him the ropes of caring for his daughter, is wearing down his defenses. Perhaps it’s time he took a chance on love.
If only he can convince Emma to take a chance on him…
Excerpt?
When his hands shifted down, reaching for the button of her slacks, an awful memory flashed like lightning in her mind’s eye. In the span of a heartbeat, she was back in that darkened car, her arms pinned above her head, helpless while her attacker tried to pull off her pants.
Shaking, acid rose up the back of her throat. She caught Dillon’s wrists and wrenched her mouth from his, fighting a near-overwhelming urge to shove away from him altogether and run like hell. This was Dillon. He’d never hurt her. Knowing that, didn’t stop the panic from seizing her chest in a vice grip that refused to let go.
“Not so fast.” She sucked in a deep breath. Her breathless voice trembled. “Please.”
Dillon’s hands paused and he pulled back, confusion and concern puckering his brow. “You okay?”
She shook her head, her voice already starting to wobble. “I had a bad experience once.” She felt like a fool, a child, but prayed he’d understand. Fear stuck in her chest, refused to let her breathe, and she couldn’t stop shaking.
He studied her, his dark eyes moving over her face, and then his jaw tightened. “Somebody hurt you once.”
When she nodded, embarrassment heated her face.
Regret and torment filled his eyes and he stroked her cheek with the back of his fingers. “God, I hate that thought. Do you want to stop?”
“No. No. I want this. I want you.” She wanted fear to stop dictating her life, to experience passion. She wanted it with him. “I trust you. I feel safe with you. I just…I need to go slow.”
Understanding dawned in his eyes. His expression softened. “I’m going too fast and it scares you.”
She hated admitting it. Hated it still had that effect on her, but nodded nonetheless. “I’m nervous.”
“Come on.” He took her hand, pulling her behind him into the living room. Once there, he took a seat on the sofa and patted his lap. “Sit with me.”
She climbed onto his lap, sitting sideways on his knees, and he wrapped his arms loosely around her waist. His arousal pressed into her bottom, hard against his zipper, but he didn’t otherwise move, didn’t demand anything more. Rather, he stared into her eyes, for so deep and so long she lost herself in the infinite depths.
Finally, he lifted a hand and cupped her cheek. “You’re in control of this. When you’re comfortable with me again and you want more, you let me know. If you don’t…” He shrugged a shoulder. “We’ll just sit here and I’ll get to hold you for a while. Okay?”
Sounds good, Joanne! Where can you be found?
Website: http://authorjmstewart.com
Blog: http://jm-stewart.blogspot.com/
Facebook Fan Page: http://www.facebook.com/pages/Author-JM-Stewart/129990420383155
Twitter: https://twitter.com/JMStewartWriter
Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/3159044.J_M_Stewart
Purchase Links:
Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/The-Playboys-Baby-ebook/dp/B008RPKBMM
All Romance ebooks: http://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-theplayboy039sbaby-905734-149.html
Barnes and Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-playboys-baby-jm-stewart/1112343120?ean=2940014920773
In the near future, it’ll also be coming out in Sony and on Kobo books, but right now, these are the only ones I have. I’ll update my website as the links come available.
Joanne is graciously giving away a copy of her new release. Winners will be announced on August 10th. All you have to do is leave a comment and include your email addy for a chance to win. And, in case you missed one, here are the links for the blog tour. The more you comment on, the better your chances of winning. Best of luck!
This is my first blog tour, so I kept it small. There are four copies up for grabs!
Aug 6th—Empi Baryeh– http://empibaryeh.wordpress.com/
Aug 7th –Tara Chevrestt — http://wwwbookbabe.blogspot.com/
Aug 8th –Ju Dimello — http://judimello.blogspot.com/
July 22, 2012
Blessed Homecoming Blog Tour
Hello to all my writing and reader friends. Just wanted to update you on a couple of great things.
As of today, Blessed Homecoming is topping the charts at Bookstrand…#3 in Inspirational, #4 in women’s fiction, #52 in contemporary, and #87 in Mainstream Romance. I am honored to have my book in the top 100 in all its categories.
Thank you for your support! ♥ you all! http://www.bookstrand.com/blessed-homecoming
The virtual online blog tour for my latest release, Blessed Homecoming, ends today. Have you commented at each stop to increase your chances of winning? I’ll be picking one winner on July 31st. Will it be you? Here’s a recap of the blog hostesses and urls, just in case:
Date
Host/Hostess
Blog url
13
Lorraine Nelson
http://lorrainenelson.wordpress.com
13
Tara Chevrestt
http://wwwbookbabe.blogspot.ca/
14
Leigh Savage
http://leighsavage.blogspot.com/
16
W Lynn Chantale
http://wlynnchantale-decadentdecision...
17
Isabella Olivia Ellis
http://isabellaoliviaellis.blogspot.com
18
Krista Ames
http://networkedblogs.com/A14vq
20
Krystal Shannan
http://www.krystalshannan.blogspot.ca/
21
Pam Mongol Bitner
http://kastil.wordpress.com/2012/07/21/pimp-my-book-blessed-homecoming-by-lorraine-nelson
22
Doris O’Connor
http://thetardisscribbles.blogspot.com/?zx=764a701e81ce6f81
Reviews for Blessed Homecoming:
Tara Chevrestt‘s review, July 13, 2012 (Editor and reviewer)
I’m not big on Christian Fiction. My blog followers will know that. However, when this manuscript hit my inbox, I saw a real good story. Even if you don’t go for God this or God that, there’s strong theme of forgiveness and letting go of your demons… because if you can’t let go of the past, how can you move on into the future?
Wendy is pregnant and alone. Her husband is in jail after beating her. She heads home to her parents to recuperate and give birth. She never wants to love again. That leads to a world of hurt.
Jake is the handyman just going house to house to escape his own past. He doesn’t want to be around a pregnant woman remind him of all he’s lost…but there’s something about Wendy, and there’s something about the Danforth family. Slowly his faith in people is restored.
Love blooms. But we all know that past comes back to haunt us and it does for these two. Wendy must escape her ex husband again, and Jake needs to forgive someone himself.
A sweet, clean read that explores love, learning to trust again, forgiveness, and the close bonds of family.
Stacey Jo Siferd‘s review, Jul 13, 2012
Blessed Homecoming by Lorraine Nelson is the ‘first’ of a few great things. Released July 13, 2012 by Breathless Press, this book is the first inspirational romantic suspense by Lorraine Nelson. It is also the first release in the new line ‘Blessings’ by Breathless Press. Blessed Homecoming also happens to be the very first inspirational based romantic suspense book I have ever had the pleasure of reading and reviewing. I am, as always, ecstatic to read and review another phenomenal book by Lorraine.
Honestly, I could go on forever, shouting accolades and praise for Lorraine’s talents! Every time I pick up one of her stories, I know without even reading the blurb…the book will be wonderful. She has the ability to weave tales that make you fall in love with her characters and her writing. Her stories are like that cozy nook you curl up in to read and relax, made for you and always warm and welcoming. I’ve often found myself thinking I’d been reading the words of a friend, telling me stories of her family and herself. Realistic tidbits, almost as if they are part of her history with a twist here and there. I always enjoy virtually travelling to Canada with Lorraine. Who could ask for a better companion?
Yes, this story of Wendy Danforth and Jake Roberts touches on and mentions God and faith. Both of which seem to be in short supply around the world as of late. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not an expert on religion or God and I am not the first person anyone would ask about either of those subjects. But, I do have my own views on faith and what it means to me. That should count for something, right? For now, let me tell you about this wonderful book.
Blessed Homecoming is a clean, sweet, non-violent, wholesome story that as Lorraine Nelson says; “This is a book that mothers can share with their daughters and women can share with family and friends without worrying about content.” I agree. Lorraine has combined a heartfelt story with just enough romantic suspense to keep even the ‘anti-faith/religion’ readers interested and loving it. Honestly, it was different from what I normally read and it was a welcome, refreshing change. This book gave a sometimes pessimist like me, a few moments of pause and reflection on my own outlook. Isn’t that what a great book should do?
I LOVED these new characters Lorraine introduced us to. Their inner and outer turmoil were realistic and believable. Immediately, I was hooked into the drama of this family. Their individuality and their voices were strong and made this normally smut-loving reader feel completely welcome in the Danforth story. The Danforth’s love for their daughter was inspirational and even made me a bit jealous. Who doesn’t want to have parents that love them unconditionally and always welcome them with open arms? Wendy’s family was picture-perfect. Jake Roberts was a man any woman would dream of falling in love with and his inner demons make him completely irresistible (in my opinion). The villain of this story resembled the many real-life, everyday villains many women have had the unfortunate opportunity to have cross their path. I’d love to hear more from all of them. The plot, characters, editing were all beautifully executed. All in all, it was a ‘blessing’ for me to read this book. Stories like this make my job a lot easier.
Let’s talk about what I feel is the main idea of this story: Faith
**Faith is defined by the Merriam-Webster dictionary as follows;
1. a.): An allegiance to a duty or person.
b.) (1): fidelity to one’s promises (2.): sincerity of intentions
2. a.) (1): belief and trust in and loyalty to God (2.): belief in
the traditional doctrines of religion
b.) (1): firm belief in something for which there is no proof
(2): complete trust
3.:something that is believed especially with strong conviction
For everyone, faith means something different. It’s an individual opinion, belief and way of life. Some people only believe in the things they can see. Others believe with their whole hearts in the unseen. There are those who have no faith in anything or anyone. There is no right or wrong when it comes to faith, you simply have it or you don’t.
Blessed Homecoming pointed to faith in God quite often and everyone will notice that. But what I found to be the most inspirational were the inferences to the characters having faith in themselves. When these characters realized they could trust not only each other, but also themselves, they were able to embrace life with hearts full of happiness. Shouldn’t we all have that feeling? Honestly, I believe we all should trust ourselves and have faith in our own worthiness and abilities. Once you have that, it makes the rest a lot easier. You’re able to find all of the wonderful things in life whether they are sent by God (if you believe) or simply because you deserve them. To me, having faith in general is one of the most amazing gifts you can give yourself and the world.
If you need an uplifting, amazingly ‘real’ story with no fluff to brighten your day and inspire you…Blessed Homecoming is a must read for you.
I am so pleased with these reviews! To know that my writing has touched the hearts of readers is a blessing in itself. I so love hearing from my readers! It’s important to know what works and doesn’t work for you as I continue to craft stories of love and mystery. You can find me at the following locations:
http://www.lorrainenelson.weebly.com
http://www.lorrainenelson.wordpress.com
http://www.facebook.com/LorraineNelson.Author
http://twitter.com/#!/lornelca
http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5254629.Lorraine_Nelson
http://www.amazon.com/Lorraine-Nelson/e/B005XMAYFQ/ref=ntt_athr_dp_pel_pop_1
http://www.thetalentcave.com/index.php?option=com_content&view=article&id=82&itemid=4
Blessed Homecoming is also available at:
http://www.breathlesspress.com/blessed-homecoming
http://www.amazon.com/Blessed-Homecoming-ebook/dp/B008L16TTG/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1342970262&sr=8-1&keywords=Blessed Homecoming
http://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-blessedhomecoming-866875-149.html
July 17, 2012
Spotlight on Doris O’Connor!
Today I welcome Doris O’Connor to my blog. She is a multi-published author of erotic romance. It’s my pleasure to have her back with us to celebrate the release of her newest title, Tiger Scars.
Warning: Explicit language, BDSM, menage
Blurb:
Can some scars ever truly heal?
Cherie ran away from Ink once. She is not going to get the chance to do so again, but helping her heal will take all of his skills as a Dom. Using Shibari, Knife play, and Ménage sex, he shows her that pleasure can be found in the things that haunt her.
Emotionally and physically scarred Cherie has sought refuge at Club Ink, where she keeps everyone at arm’s length. When Ink forces her to face up to her demons, does her submission hold the key to her future happiness? Or will their shared past destroy them once and for all?
Not hot enough for ya? Here’s an excerpt:
She was so fucking beautiful it hurt to look at her. With her arms cuffed high above her head her bountiful tits displayed beautifully, her abundant curves covered in the marks left by his claws, his cum drying on her belly, all he saw was his woman, his mate. He ground his teeth and forced his tiger to stand down, aware of Cherie’s renewed agitation. She yanked on her restraints, her expressive eyes deep pools of molten chocolate widening in fear.
“Stop fidgeting.” He delivered the words with a quick open-handed swat to her mound, and Cherie’s hips bucked off the bed. She bit her lips, and he smiled at her moan when he trailed his index finger through her wet pussy lips and up towards her anus. Her increased scent and the renewed gush of moisture coating his hand told him all he needed to know, and he breathed a sigh of relief. Thought of punishment went out of his head, and instead he followed his tiger’s instincts and lowered his head. He inhaled the sweet scent calling him, his fingers digging into Cherie’s thighs to spread her wider still. Her nether lips opened beautifully, so all of her quivering, glistening cunt was there for him to feast over. He had to taste her, to bring her to the brink of orgasm again and again. His smile turned wicked, and he blew against her wet folds. Cherie bucked underneath him, her long drawn out hiss of pleasure music to his ears. He allowed himself one long, slow, lick along her slit, and then bit down on her clit.
Every muscle in Cherie’s body tensed; her breath hitched; her thighs trembled and clenched around his head, and his smile deepened. Nothing used to bring her to the brink faster. He blew against the engorged bud again and allowed his claws to run out. He dug them into her thighs just hard enough to break the skin, to remind her who was in charge.
“Do you need help keeping these open for me?” He growled the words into her pussy, allowing himself another slow lick of her sweet juices, before he raised his head to look at her.
Eyes wide as saucers, her skin flushed, Cherie shook her head, and Ink withdrew his claws and sank his thumb into her nether hole.
His tiger roared at the mark of his possession, Cherie’s whimper of submission making Ink’s cock harden in record time again.
“I can’t hear you, girl.”
He trailed the fingers of his other hand along the lips of her cunt, swirling it slowly around her pearl, and Cherie panted her answer.
“Sorry … no … oh … yes … please. Oh God, don’t stop.”
He flicked her clit once, twice, and inserted another finger into her sphincter, all the while keeping up the circling motion around her clit, designed to drive her higher and higher. His balls grew tight, and his tiger growled at the soft feminine moans filling the air.
He’d played with plenty of willing and experienced subs, and trained lots of new ones, but nothing beat the sweet responsiveness of this woman. That she would give herself so trustingly to him after everything that had happened to her, blew him away. The tell-tale tightening of her quivering muscles under his fingers told him how close she was, and he stepped up his assault.
“Remember who owns your orgasms, baby girl.”
His warning just seemed to excite her further, and he groaned watching her body climb. His cock throbbed, and he tortured himself by rubbing it along the velvet skin of her hip, leaving a wet trail of his pre-cum behind. It took every ounce of his self-control to not just allow himself to slide deep into her welcoming heat. She’d fit him like a glove the first time round, so tight and hot, it had been a miracle he’d had managed to pull out and not spill his seed inside her, like his tiger had urged him to do. He’d only ever lost control with Cherie. From the minute his tiger had scented her all those years ago, he’d known she was his, and she always would be. But he was older and wiser now, and they had a lot of ground to cover still, until they could even think of moving on. The reminder how much was at stake here focused his sole attention on the woman writhing underneath him. Her body tensed, her skin flushed all over, and just as she was about to fly off into ecstasy he withdrew.
Her eyes flew open, and she tried to tense her thighs around him to stop him from leaving. Silly little tigress played right into his hands. He bit down on the soft skin of her inner thigh and slapped the globes of her ass. The red imprint of his hand stood out against the pale skin, and Cherie froze the minute she realized her mistake.
“I’m, sorry, Sir. I didn’t mean to.” Her husky whisper had him harden to the point of pain, and he slapped her ass again, satisfied to see the shudder going through her. A few more slaps followed, each one making her wetter until she twisted onto her side of her own accord, grinding her thighs together to get herself off. He put considerable more force behind his last slap to her now red-hot ass and then pulled her down the bed as far as he could, stretching her legs wide and turning her on her front.
“Such pretty words, but you don’t mean them, do you?” He stood back perusing her, and he chuckled at the mutinous look she threw at him over her shoulder.
Much better, baby. Show me some of your sass.
“Yes, I do. I’m sorry, Sir.”
He had to look away to hide his smile, but oh it felt good to have her goading him whilst she was completely at his mercy.
Tiger Scars is available through Evernight and wherever ebooks are sold.
http://www.evernightpublishing.com/ti...
Places to find Doris:
Spotlight on Rebecca Brochu!!!
Love in the Land of Fire.
BLURB:
In a world where one is either the ruler or the ruled Enforcer Josiah Marx, a dominate who’s almost given up on finding a partner, takes a case and finds himself drawn to Rafe Zweil, a submissive with a complicated past. Can the two overcome all the obstacles that stand before them and between them to find love in the Land of Fire?
EXCERPT:
“Shit!” Josiah immediately holsters his gun, wraps one hand around Rafe’s shoulder and spins him around until they’re face to face. Anger flares through him, anger at himself for not recognizing the other male sooner, anger at Rafe for not being where he was supposed to be in the first place. It all comes spilling out of him before he can think twice about it.
“What in the fuck were you doing? What in the hell possessed you to leave the apartment? I’ve seen your test scores, Zweil, so you’ve got no excuse for acting like a fucking idiot!”
Josiah shakes Rafe hard once before letting go of the submissive as if burned. Raking a hand through his blond hair he stalks towards the nearest switch and turns the dial all the way up until the apartment is flooded with light. In the now bright room he can see Rafe’s face clearly, can see an anger that matches his own rising up in the man, which is at odds with the mostly meek behavior he’s shown to Josiah since they’ve been together.
“I wasn’t aware that I was a prisoner, Marx, or that you’re apparently my warden. Although I suppose that was a foolish assumption to make. After all a cage is still a cage even if the bars are pretty this time around.”
“Damn it all to hell, Rafe, that’s not what I meant and you fucking know it!”
“Are you sure about that, Josiah? Do you really not want to keep me locked away, hidden from the outside world like every-fucking-body else seems to?”
Josiah has no control over himself as he lunges forward, buries one hand in Rafe’s silky hair and yanks the submissive forward. Their lips meet harshly, all teeth and no finesse and Josiah runs his tongue roughly along the seam of Rafe’s mouth, a pleased growl rumbling in his chest when the he opens for him. Josiah sweeps inside, his tongue tangling hotly with Rafe’s even as he begins to crowd the submissive against the nearest wall.
They fit together perfectly, the long lean plains of Rafe’s body slotting into the more thickly muscled valleys of Josiah’s as if they’d been carved from the same single piece of stone, broken and divided and only now reunited. Josiah groans low in his throat at the feel of Rafe pressed against him and his cock hardens instantly at the combined sensations of touch and taste. Rafe echoes his groan and the sound of pleasure from the submissive doubles Josiah’s arousal, making him helpless to do anything but press closer, driving their bodies together and Rafe further against the wall.
Their tongues slide against and around each other, spit slick and eager to taste, to consume one another. Josiah knew it would be like this, knew it would be perfect and all-consuming the moment he laid eyes on Rafe. His hand loosens its tight grip in Rafe’s hair and slides slowly through the cool, thick locks to curl firmly around the back of the submissive’s neck, unable to control the impulse to completely dominate the other male. Rafe breaks the kiss, gasping for air and moaning openly as his head tips back, pressing deeper into the grip on his neck and exposing his throat and collar to Josiah’s hungry gaze.
It’s an instinctual move, the desire to show off for a dominant, the urge to entice a fitting and worthy partner with his unclaimed status, and the sight of it has Josiah practically snarling in victory. Rafe wants him as well, wants to be claimed on some level as much as Josiah wants to be the one doing the claiming. If he didn’t, if their desires didn’t match to some degree, Rafe would not respond so beautifully, would not be showing off his collar and trying to entice Josiah into claiming him.
His hand tightens slightly, as his head dips down until he can taste Rafe’s neck, can rack teeth and tongue across the tempting expanse, and suck tiny bruises into the vulnerable skin. He runs his tongue across the smooth surface of the collar, tongue flirting with the inlaid rubies and dragging lightly across the sensitive area where silver meets skin. Rafe bucks against him and Josiah tightens his hand in reprimand, pleased and aroused when he can actually feel Rafe’s knees weaken at the silent command even as the submissive obeys and stills.
Josiah pulls himself away from the mesmerizing taste and feel of Rafe, dragging his lips and tongue up across the exposed side of his neck so that he can whisper hotly in the submissive’s ear.
“Such a good boy, Rafe, such a sweet, beautiful boy. You were made to be ruled, made for me to own.”
He claims Rafe’s mouth in another searing kiss, reveling in the breathless gasp and shaky moan it prompts.
“You’ll be so pretty for me, won’t you? So sweet and delicious when I have you begging, wanting what only I can give you. I can’t wait to have you bare and spread open before me.”
Rafe shudders, a full body tremor that Josiah can feel perfectly, and it goes straight to his cock. He urges Rafe’s arms above his head with his free hand before grasping them both tightly and pinning them back against the wall. He feels Rafe go still against him, the tiny, almost unnoticed rocking of his hips stopping abruptly, but it doesn’t really register with him, doesn’t penetrate the fog of lust and need that’s slowly taking him over.
“P-Please, Josiah.”
The plea comes out quietly, almost too quietly, and when Josiah hears it he takes it as a plea for more, more touch, more sensation. Just more. So he rocks his body against Rafe’s again as he mouths at the sensitive skin behind his ear. He loves the feel of his cock rubbing against the submissive’s, even muted as it is by the multiple layers of leather and cloth. It’s a heady feeling, something he wants more of even though it’s enough to drive him mad. He wants Rafe bare, wants to feel all of that silky skin against his own as he takes the other man down and apart.
“Oh the things I’ll make you do. I’ll make you love me and what I can give you.”
Available at Evernight and wherever ebooks are sold.
http://www.evernightpublishing.com/lo...
Links to find Rebecca:
Evernight Publisher: http://www.evernightpublishing.com/rebecca-brochu/
Blog: http://rbrochu.blogspot.com/
Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B008DMDK5E
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/AuthorRebeccaBrochu
Twitter: https://twitter.com/#!/RayShippou
Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5159900.Rebecca_Brochu
July 15, 2012
Spotlight on Adonis Devereux!
Today’s spotlight is on the husband/wife team of Adonis Devereux. Welcome! Take it away!
Thanks for having us today! Hi, we’re the husband-wife writing team of Adonis Devereux. You know what’s different about us? I’m sure you’re all aware of how it’s trendy for romance novels to have both the heroine’s and the hero’s points of view. Well, since we’re a husband-wife writing team, we have the advantage of the right writer writing the right gender. The Mr. writes the chapters with the hero’s POV, and the Mrs. writes the heroine’s!
We’d like to introduce today our fifth erotic romance novel set in the fantasy world of Gilalion, a place where anything is possible, especially love against all odds. The Soldier’s Lotus explores themes of slavery, revenge, and unexpected love between a white woman and a black man. Saerileth, the heroine, comes from a small island nation dependent on the larger and more powerful nation on the mainland. When she meets Darien, the large, sex-god navy captain, she remembers him from her past, though he does not recognize her.
If you haven’t fallen into our world yet, now’s your chance. And don’t forget to check out our backlist, all titles coming from this erotic, fantastic world.
Comment below for a chance to win not only a free copy of The Soldier’s Lotus but also the map that accompanies the novel!
Don’t forget to “like” our Facebook Author Page for access to exclusive content including maps and recipes. Happy reading!
And now for their latest release…The Soldier’s Lotus. 
Blurb
One death. Saerileth had trained all her life for one death. From the time her clan had been massacred when she was five years old, until now, thirteen years later, Saerileth has sought one death. Now that she has attained the rank of full-blown Lotus, she has been sent by the Red Lotus guild to the foreign city of Arinport. But Saerileth has other plans, and the one death she seeks is more to her than the guild’s plans for her. Saerileth’s plans go awry, however, when she meets Darien, the brave soldier from her past, whom she had never expected to see again.
Darien alters everything, simply by being there, and Saerileth is swept up into a world of intrigue and assassination that makes seeking her one death even harder. But her mission of vengeance is difficult to reconcile with being the soldier’s Lotus, and in the end, Saerileth’s choice will affect three nations.
Be Warned: multiple partners, ménage sex, anal sex, m/m sex, spanking, erotic asphyxiation.
Excerpt
“I must enter you now,” Darien said, and Saerileth’s eyes widened.
“Why?”
“To prevent my crew from taking you themselves and dividing you as common spoil.”
“Can you not just order them not to?”
Darien shook his head. “They found you. If I renounce salvage rights to you, they can claim them. The only way to put you utterly beyond their power is to make you my legal concubine.”
“Then why do you not just tell them I am?” Saerileth shifted on the divan and crossed her ankles.
Darien glanced back at Kamen who stood in front of the door and looked straight ahead, bending his concentration on the invisible air. He did not make eye contact with Darien. Something serious ate at him, something that had started the moment Saerileth came aboard.
“I tried that once,” Darien said, returning his attention to the girl he knew he must couple with. “There was no contract, no witness. I didn’t want to take the girl against her will, so I faked it. We Sunjaa are the People of the Word, as you probably know. If it isn’t written down and witnessed, it didn’t happen.” Darien did not enjoy talking about this, but he wanted Saerileth to understand. “Well, my crew went ahead and raped her anyway, and I wasn’t able to do anything about it. She was their salvage, and I had failed her.”
Saerileth stood and let her pallav fall. Darien drew in a long, deep breath. Her beauty was divine, every line and curve perfect. “Your pain is fresh, as if this happened yesterday. You are a man of deep feeling.” And she laid her hand on the bare part of his chest that lay exposed from his loose shirt.
Her flesh was still cold from the seawater, but her touch was like fire on his skin, sending hunger through him. “I will take you, then.” It was half statement, half question. He laid his hands on her shoulders, feeling her delicate frame beneath his strong, soldierly hands.
All Saerileth did was look up at him through her long, black eyelashes and nod. That sent Darien over the edge. He picked her up and kissed her mouth, tasting her lips as if they were fruit. She was half his size, and he easily wrapped his arms around her back, bringing his hands to her opposite sides. She threw her arms around his neck as she kissed him back with equal fervor. Her legs were wrapped around his waist, and due to their size difference, she was practically perched on his massive, muscular frame. To Darien, she was no weight at all. He had carried heavier sacks of grain.
Saerileth unwrapped her pallav from her left forearm and tossed it away. With both hands free, she ran her fingers across Darien’s close-cropped hair. Between kisses, Darien could catch glimpses of her body. Under the pallav, she wore a short shirt that left her midriff bare, and the skirt she wore, though tight, accommodated a wide range of movement. The material was elastic enough to allow her legs free reign.
Darien laid Saerileth down on the divan and lay on top of her, though he rested most of his weight on his forearms and one knee that wedged itself between the cushions. So much for the pristine state of the divan! But to Darien, this moment made his saving it worth it. He wanted to be rough with Saerileth, but this was her first time with him, so he promised himself he would be gentle. By the way she ground against him and the way she deep-kissed, Darien guessed she was skilled in sex, but he could not know whether she had ever taken a man of his size inside her before. Considering she was dressed as if she had just come from the Dimadan, he guessed she had not. The Sunjaa were better endowed than the Zenji, and Darien was better endowed than any other Sunjaa he knew. And he had seen a lot of cocks in his day.
Saerileth blindly yanked at his breeches, and he blindly yanked at the shirt that hugged her breasts. They could not stop even for a moment to look at what they were doing; he needed more of her kisses. He did not want to miss one taste. He was greedy for this beautiful, pale stranger, and her clear desire for him only served to make him abandon all reason. His growl slipped past her tongue, and she responded by sucking on his bottom lip. His cock swelled, and he was obliged to reach down and loosen the strings so that his cock might burst free. When it did, it slapped against Saerileth’s belly with such a smack that she gasped and pulled away from Darien. Her eyes searched his in wonderment, as if she had discovered hidden treasure. She gazed into his eyes as her hand found his cock. Once she touched it, she smiled at Darien, let slip a light laugh, and fell to kissing him again.
Where we are:
How to purchase:
Thank you both for coming to visit today. Best of luck on your tour.
July 14, 2012
Writing…a busy life!
Tomorrow is my birthday!
Now, at my age, you don’t normally broadcast the fact, but I’ve earned every one of my gray hairs. LOL Although, I must say, my life is more fulfilling since I started writing again. This birthday I actually want to celebrate and I’m doing so by 
presenting a little surprise to my readers.
Evernight Publishing has agreed to let me hold a one day sale. That’s right! Tomorrow, July 16th, all four Thunder Creek Ranch books are on sale for only $1.99 each! That’s quite a savings! So if you’ve started the series, or are wanting to read about my sexy cowboys, tomorrow is the time to buy. This is my way of saying thank you to each and every one of you who have supported me on this journey. I love you all! I’m currently working on Book 5 of my Thunder Creek Ranch series and hope to submit it for publication soon.
I’ve been so busy writing, editing, promoting, writing, editing, and promoting, that I hardly have time to breathe these past few months. On top of that, I blog, try to keep my website up to date, and edit for others.
Bad Boy Blake is finally finished and subbed to Ruby Lioness Press. Next up, I have a trilogy to write for RLP, contracted on proposal. Not sure I like writing to a deadline, but I’ll see how it pans out.
I also won a pitch with Harlequin Intrigue and the editor requested a partial. It’s almost ready to go. Fingers crossed. They have a terrific distribution system and guaranteed sales.
Blessed Homecoming is my 9th release since Oct/2011. I also have releases in August, September, and November, plus Book 5 and maybe 6 in there somewhere for my TCR series with Evernight.
The Hudson trilogy is scheduled for release in Jan, March, and May, 2013, with the print edition of Bad Boy Blake also releasing in May.
Add to that, school’s out and my oldest grandson is allowed to visit more. Love him dearly, but when he’s here, he’s MY boy, wanting all of Grandmom’s attention. He just turned 8 and we had a party for him Friday.
So life won’t be slowing down for me anytime soon. Wish me luck and don’t forget to follow my virtual blog tour for a chance to win Blessed Homecoming, my first inspirational romantic suspense.
July 13, 2012
Spotlight on Tara Chevrestt!!!
It’s my pleasure to help Tara celebrate her newest release through Ruby Lioness Press, Maiden Behind the Mask. Tara has edited all my books through BP and in the process we’ve become firm friends. I enjoy her sense of humor and her down to earth responses to life and its idiosyncrasies. Tara’s writing is varied and eclectic, but very, very good. If you haven’t read one of her books yet, what’s stopping you?
Blurb:
When Catalina Rodriguez is attacked by a would-be rapist and rescued by the dashing Ricardo Garcia, she not only becomes more aware of the handsome man, but also vows that she’ll never be a damsel in distress again. Using the timeless method of blackmail, she convinces her uncle to teach her to fight and becomes a masked crusader in the night, saving other damsels from robbers and rough handling.
However, scandalous rumors and dwindling funds force Ricardo and Catalina to marry. Not immune to each other’s charms, their marriage starts fiery, but when one of Catalina’s nightly escapades results in dire consequences, she is forced to spurn her husband’s amorous advances…or reveal a secret that could turn him away from her forever.
Ricardo’s not a man to be cuckolded or left in the dark. Is his wife having an affair with El Capitan, the masked savior? If so…they will both pay.
Sexy Excerpt:
Ricardo began to back her toward the large bed in the center of the room, still devouring her mouth with his own. He stepped away from her long enough to undo the ties at his breeches, watching her for any sign of fright or doubt. Only desire and curiosity shone in her dark eyes. He had barely tugged on his ties when his rigid manhood sprang out of its confines and into the open air. Slightly embarrassed he hadn’t been smoother in his disrobing, he struggled to come up with some reassuring words of nonsense and love.
But his bride surprised him yet again.
“Well,” she said with a smile, “that hombre is saying olé, loud and clear.”
He blinked, his rigidness clutched in his hand, not knowing whether to laugh at the joke or be offended as their wedding night wasn’t a time for laughing and his manhood was certainly nothing to jest about! But as Catalina offered him a smile—a smile so sweet, how could he but forgive her?—and stepped forward to replace his hand with her own. Aye, Dios Mio! I could fall in love with this woman. I could get drunk on her charms every night.
And as his breeches fell to the floor and her fingers found his buttocks, he decided he was, indeed, drunk, and he hadn’t had a drop of tequila. He wasn’t going to need it.
http://rubylionesspress.com/shop/maid...
Author Bio:
Tara Chevrestt is a deaf woman, former aviation mechanic, writer, and an editor. She is most passionate about planes, motorcycles, dogs, and above all, reading. That led to her love of writing. Between her writing and her editing, which allows her to be home with her little canine kids, she believes she has the greatest job in the world. She is very happily married.
Tara also writes as Sonia Hightower. Sonia writes the racy stuff and argues that she was here first. She just wasn’t allowed to be unleashed until the last year.
While Tara and Sonia continue to fight over the laptop and debate who writes the next book, you can find buy links, blurbs, and other fun bits on their website: http://tarachevrestt.weebly.com/index.html or their Facebook page: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Tara-Chevrestt-Sonia-Hightower/218383211513877.
New Release!!! Blessed Homecoming
I’m pleased to announce the release of Blessed Homecoming, my first inspirational romantic suspense through Breathless Press. It’s the first release in their new line, Blessings. When I started writing this book, I challenged myself to write something that was wholesome, faith-based, and therefore an entertaining ‘clean’ read, unmarred by cursing, sexual endeavors, drinking, or dancing. Needless to say, I am extremely pleased with the result. This is a book that mothers can share with their daughters and women can share with family and friends without worrying about content.
Join me now as I introduce you to Wendy Danforth and Jake Roberts, both of whom have emotional baggage and need the kind of healing that only comes through love and faith.
Blurb:
The hometown girl and the handyman both carry emotional baggage. Are they destined to remain friends or is there room in their hearts for more?
***
Wendy Danforth is preparing to be a single mom, her ex-husband in jail for spousal abuse. She returns to her hometown, to renew her faith and to heal. Caught off guard by the handyman in residence, attraction hits, swift and piercing, but she quells her unruly emotions, in no hurry to get involved in another relationship. Besides, at almost nine months pregnant, she wasn’t exactly looking her best.
Jake Roberts, hired to renovate the Danforths’ house, took one look at his employer’s daughter and wanted to run far and fast. He hadn’t possessed an ounce of faith or been around a pregnant woman in three long years, not since his wife and unborn son died in an auto accident. They become friends, and when her ex-husband escapes custody, he steps up to protect Wendy and her unborn child. Will the danger and close proximity test their friendship? Or will it lead to more? Can Jake regain his lost faith, or will it elude him forever?
Excerpt:
Their evening walk took them down to the creek, where they crossed to the middle of the footbridge and threw breadcrumbs to the procrastinating ducks. Didn’t they realize it was time to head south? Maybe it was a good omen that the weather would stay mild longer this year.
Wendy enjoyed the changing colors of the surrounding foliage brought about by the evening frost. The air was crisp and clear, and she inhaled deeply. There wasn’t even a scent of smog to make her hold her breath, as in the city.
The trek back seemed to take forever. Her back was hurting, and her feet were swollen so badly her shoes became tight, and she began limping. Her parents had walked ahead, leaving only her and Jake on the path. He noticed her struggle to walk, casually took her arm in his, and helped steady her until they got to a bench.
“Here, have a seat.”
He knelt at her feet, undid the laces on her sneakers, and took them off. He massaged her feet to get the circulation going again before replacing the sneakers and retying them more loosely. “Does that feel any better?”
A tingling zip worked its way from his fingertips to the bottom of her belly. It was a good feeling but one she’d have to be wary of, as she didn’t want to be dependent on this—or a man—in any way. The massage had rejuvenated her poor, tired feet. His touch had been gentle but firm as he’d worked his magic. “Much, thank you. I thought of tying them looser, but it’s so difficult to reach my feet these days, I figured it was easier to keep plodding along.”
“Discomfort of any kind can wear a person down. Next time, don’t wait until you’re limping and sore. Ask for help.”
“Next time, I’ll make sure to tie them looser before we head out.”
“Do you want to rest a while longer?”
“Yes, please.” She patted the seat beside her, and he sat, staring off into space, as if he didn’t dare look at her. “Where did you learn to perform a massage like that?”
For a minute, she didn’t think he would answer, but when he did, the words were totally unexpected.
“It was part of our training in medical school.”
“Really? What did you study?”
“I was a doctor.”
“Was?” She had visions of a malpractice suit or something ending his career.
“Yes.”
“Am I being too nosy again?”
“Yes, but I know that won’t stop you, so ask your questions.” He smiled, taking the sting out of his words, and sat back on the bench, slightly turned toward her, his arm running along the back of the seat.
“What made you quit?” she asked softly.
“My world fell apart when I lost Emily and Timothy. She was in her last trimester…as you are…and died en route to the hospital. At first, the doctors thought they could save the baby. They were wrong. He was stillborn.”
“Jake, I’m so sorry.”
He acknowledged her words with a nod, then continued. “I was out of town at a convention when the call came in. Frantic to get a flight out, to get back to my family, I was almost ready to kill to get a seat on the next plane. Luckily, I didn’t have to. They put me on standby, and half an hour later, the flight took off with me on it. But it was too late. They were already gone.”
“I can understand your need to grieve for your family, but why give up what you’d studied so long to do?”
“A doctor takes an oath to preserve life, all life, but the violence that erupted inside me at the airport carried through to my family’s drunken murderer. All I could think of was revenge, an eye for an eye, a life for a life. So I resigned, and when the trial was over, I sold everything, packed up, and moved on. I couldn’t stay, couldn’t cope with the memories and the guilt, even after months of intense therapy.”
“What did you have to feel guilty about?”
“I should’ve been there. I should’ve been the one driving that car. It should’ve been me that died that day.”
“No, Jake. You have to believe that the Lord spared you for a reason. There’s a purpose in life you have yet to fulfill.”
He pulled away from her, and she missed the comfort of his arm behind her. His reaction was swift, his posture tense, and his hands balled into fists. “What kind of God allows an innocent woman and child to die like that while their murderer walks free?”
“Only God can answer that, Jake. But why did the courts allow the man his freedom?”
“I’m not sure. After the first day in court, I attacked him, and the judge banned me from proceedings. They sentenced him to one year in a rehabilitation program. He’s out now, and it’s taken everything I have in me not to hunt him down. That won’t bring Em and Timmy back to me.”
The anger was still there, simmering just below the surface, as evidenced by his words. She’d opened this can of worms with her nosy questions, but how could she make it right?
“Nothing can do that, but you’re the only one who can preserve their memory. Don’t allow it to dim from hatred and bitterness. It’ll destroy you in the end.” The baby gave a mighty kick, reminding Wendy of her presence, and she rubbed her belly. Jake had suffered a great loss, but his grief and healing wouldn’t be complete until he found a measure of peace.
“I don’t have your faith, Wendy. All I can do is try to get by from one day to the next.”
She placed her hand on his knee and spoke softly. “By helping the people you come into contact with.”
“It’s called earning a living.”
“No, I don’t think so,” she said as she searched his eyes for sincerity. “It’s more than that. I think you’ve got money tucked away. You work at carpentry jobs as a way to pass the time until you figure out what direction you want your life to take for the future.”
His expression closed, and he rose to his feet. “I don’t have a future here or anywhere else. It’s time to head back.”
Before she could clamber to her feet, her cell phone rang, and she motioned for Jake to wait as she fished it out of her pocket and answered. “Hello.”
Her query was met with silence. She tried again. A pause. “Hello! Who is this?”
Just as she was about to press the disconnect button in frustration, maniacal laughter erupted from the phone. She froze in terror, and it fell to the ground with a dull thud.
Jake was quick to snatch it back up and place it to his own ear.
“Who is this?” he demanded.
Available now at Breathless Press:
http://www.breathlesspress.com/blesse...
I so love hearing from my readers! It’s important to know what works and doesn’t work for them as I continue to craft stories of love and mystery. You can find me at:
http://www.lorrainenelson.weebly.com
http://www.lorrainenelson.wordpress.com
http://www.facebook.com/LorraineNelson.Author
http://twitter.com/#!/lornelca
http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5254629.Lorraine_Nelson
http://www.amazon.com/Lorraine-Nelson/e/B005XMAYFQ/ref=ntt_athr_dp_pel_pop_1
Thank you for helping me celebrate this new release. Please follow along on my blog tour and comment daily for several chances to win a free download of Blessed Homecoming. Remember to leave your email address so I can reach you. Winner to be announced on July 31st.
Blog Tour Schedule:
Date
Host/Hostess
Blog url
July 13th
Lorraine Nelson
http://lorrainenelson.wordpress.com
13th
Tara Chevrestt
http://wwwbookbabe.blogspot.ca/
14th
Leigh Savage
http://leighsavage.blogspot.com/
15th
Krista Ames
http://www.apassionforromance.blogspot.ca/
16th
W Lynn Chantale
http://wlynnchantale-decadentdecision...
17th
Isabella Olivia Ellis
http://isabellaoliviaellis.blogspot.com
18th
Laura Horwitz
http://www.laurabhorwitz.com/roadnottaken
19th
Marissa Dobson
http://www.sizzlinghotbooks.net/
20th
Krystal Shannan
http://www.krystalshannan.blogspot.ca/
21th
Pam Mongol Bitner
http://kastil.wordpress.com/
22th
Doris O’Connor
http://thetardisscribbles.blogspot.com/
