Monday, June 29, 2009

The Busy Month of June

Well, June’s been quite the busy month for me. I’ve had three releases this month. Can’t hate that, huh? One was a vampire and his assistant, the other was a couple of cops, the third was a military guy and an FBI guy. What a crowd! They’re all three erotic romances, though the excerpts I’m putting up aren’t erotic—sorry.

I’m gonna put the covers here because…well, it seems like the place to do it.

I know, the one is a regular Sip cover, but hey, it’s pretty, right? Who doesn’t like a nice, red, cocktail? And there’s a cherry in it. Pretty festive, I think. And the Chapel cover, so cute. Very creative, right? And check out Counting Midnight! Now that’s a seductive cover, don’t you agree?

Lucky is the Sip, and it’s a bit short, so I’m just going to link it to the excerpt page.

Don’t Ask is part of an anthology called Going to the Chapel at Torquere Press and there are two other authors in it as well, with two other, very hot, as well as snuggly stories. (Jenna Jones and Alexa Snow )

Don't Ask

by J.J. Massa

“Coffee, Penelope, would you please?” Zack asked as he passed his secretary’s desk.

Though she was an Army sergeant, Penelope Raines preferred not to stand on ceremony. They’d been instant friends since their first meeting, and he didn’t doubt that she knew most of his secrets. He'd told her half of them, and she’d likely guessed the rest. When others were present, they maintained a formal relationship; otherwise, they were relaxed with each other.

“Coming up, Z.” She aimed a commiserating smile his way, turning toward the break room.

He strode into his small office and kicked the door closed behind him. Groaning, he collapsed into his office chair, his face sinking into his crossed arms resting upon his desk.

Moments later, when the door creaked open, he didn’t look up. He smelled the strong coffee and knew that Penelope hadn’t let him down.

“Just put it on the desk, Pen,” he said into his forearm, not moving his face from his arm. “Hey, d’me a f’vr?” he mumbled, lifting his head a fraction of an inch, “Gimme the Pavarato file ‘n lemme know when Ag'nt Thayer heads this way.” He dropped his head back into the crook of his arm, wondering when his luck would improve.

He heard the sound of the cup landing on his desk, but Penelope didn’t leave. He didn’t stir for a moment until, after several long seconds, still without looking up, he mumbled, “Pen? You need something else?”

“I was coming in anyway, Smith,” Agent Thayer spoke finally, amusement thick in his voice.

Zack shot to his feet, nearly knocking over his chair. Automatically, he snapped to attention, groaning inside when he realized he’d done it. He heard the other man’s chuckle and reached for his coffee, nonchalantly taking it from the other man, hoping to hide his embarrassment.

“Now, what kind of a good soldier gets caught unaware like this?” Falk mused, causing a hot blush to sweep up and burn Zack’s cheeks.

“I, I, um, you…” he stammered, feeling like a fool. Sucking in a deep breath, he stood up straight. He was six feet and two inches tall, muscular and attractive, and he knew how to use it to his best advantage. Why wouldn’t it work on Agent Falk Thayer? “I wasn’t expecting you to just walk in,” he objected, carefully sipped at the strong brew.

“I didn’t ‘just walk in,’” the other man told him calmly. “I stopped at your secretary’s desk. She had your coffee.” He nodded toward the liquid crutch cupped in Zack’s hands.

Zack couldn’t understand it. Falk Thayer had medium brown hair, medium brown eyes, and regular features. The other man was easily four inches shorter than he was. How he could be so unremarkable and so intimidating at the same time, Zack just didn’t know. But he was.

“Um, yeah,” Zack looked away and took another deliberate sip of coffee. “Well, what is it you want me to do?” he asked grudgingly.

The third release should be put up any minute now. It’s called Counting Midnight and was the second book I ever wrote. Maybe it shows…Of course that makes it a re-release, though with some minor changes. It's coming to Midnight Showcase Fiction in the next day or so. It’s been a year or two since it’s been available. I was trying to make it all scary but not too scary vampire…well, you’ll have to see how I did. Oddly enough, even though I love reading about vampires, the idea of something getting on my neck? *shudder* GROSS… No biting, please. Ick.

Counting Midnight by J.J. Massa

For the first time in centuries, Vasile felt like crying. The feeling was at war with the towering anger he’d felt when he first saw her sitting there. Even so, rage still bubbled inside of him. He wasn’t done with Nina Caruthers.

His Nina had a soft, sweet, husky voice and a mischievous sense of humor. But, she’d left him. He had thought her dead. Now, here she was in his offices, applying for employment.

She wouldn’t get away from him again. He didn’t know if he would punish her or how, but she would not get away.

He didn’t look up when she entered the room. He was still gripped with rage at her for leaving him. The fact that she let him think she was dead infuriated him further. Vasile sat reading her paperwork, forcing himself to show no emotion. With difficulty, he kept his anger in check.

She gracefully lowered herself into a chair near his desk and sat quietly. He watched her covertly but didn’t say anything. His mind reached out to hers, finding definite changes. He could feel her natural shield but it was not nearly as strong as it had been.

Beverly brought the coffee in a minute later. Nina thanked her for it and indicted that she could leave. Vasile would have been annoyed by such impertinence usually, but this time, he said nothing.

Finally, he could ignore her no longer. He could feel her scrutiny. Looking up, he found her eyes traveling over his face. He smiled in amusement when she met his eyes. His little Nina was “checking him out”. He probed her mind wondering what she thought of him. It seemed that the young lady liked what she saw. She was embarrassed to be caught looking. A little of his fury melted away–only a little.

“Welcome to Velicescu Finance, Miss Caruthers. I understand you are interested in employment with us,” he told her, focusing on her face. He’d need to look in her eyes to embed his “link” into her thoughts.

She sat still and quiet for a few more seconds. He didn’t quite know what she was thinking yet—she seemed to be organizing her thoughts. She was pale and more than that, she looked fragile. He noticed that her hair was a good deal shorter than it had been two years ago. Had it been cut?

“Thank you, Mr. Velicescu. Other members of your administrative staff have asked me to come aboard. It is your endorsement we await. Of course, we all understand that your vision for the future may be different than that of your staff.”

She waited patiently having given him the perfect escape. Now it was up to him. He stared at her over his tented fingers. He could tell that she didn’t know who he was.

Searching for answers in her mind, he found many changes in her. Her mind seemed raw, bruised.

Nina’s forehead furrowed. “Mr. Velicescu, have we met before?” He arched a brow at her. A blush stole up her cheeks. “I’m sorry, Sir. I’m sure we haven’t.” He could feel a small ache bloom behind her eyes.

“Miss Caruthers? It says here that you left your last job rather abruptly. Although you have done some consulting during the last six months, there is quite a gap in your history.” Looking over the papers, he said, “Just over a year and a half. Can you explain that?” Vasile fixed his icy black gaze on her blue-green eyes.


Also, I just started the Part 2 of my newsletter story, Sovereign of the Dragon. I hope you’ll check it out. And don’t forget the Monthly Monster (or Myth)
See you later!

Saturday, June 27, 2009

It's All in the Jeans

Blurb -
Libby swallowed nervously. If he rejected her now she’d leave the park and never return. However, what she saw on Logan’s expression wasn’t rejection. As he took his fill looking at her, she let her eyes roam down to the prominent bulge in his pants. My…it was a wonder it didn’t burst right through his zipper! Without realizing what she was doing she reached forward and touched him to see if it was as hard as it appeared, sliding a naughty fingertip down the pulsing length. He was made of steel. And she couldn’t wait to have him inside her.

He sucked in his breath, his penis jumping strongly beneath her finger. His heavy lidded gaze slid down Libby’s exposed body in a slow, heated caress that made her heart pound and her pulse race. She felt her breasts swelling for attention, her nipples tingling almost painfully with excitement. Lord, it was a wonder she remained on her feet she was so turned on. And all they’d done was kiss so far.

What was Logan waiting for? Libby was all but asking him to make love to her. Didn’t he recognize the signs? Surely he wasn’t a virgin!

"Ah, Logan?" she questioned after a moment, curious as to why he hadn’t made his move yet when she expected him to sweep her into his arms and ravish her. His eyes swung lazily up to hers, the question in them apparent. "Ah, you’ve been with a woman before, haven’t you?" Her finger continued to toy with his erection. "Because if you haven’t, I can show you what to do with this."

The crooked grin spreading slowly across his face was sexy as sin, and Libby felt the heat of embarrassment crawl up her neck and span across her cheeks when she realized her mistake. All at once the wolfish look in his eyes was backed up with a predatory gleam, and his intentions became very clear.

He was about to make a meal of her.

"I thought I told you Libby, I like it slow and easy." His words reminded her of what he’d said that night at the bar. Before she was prepared he wrapped an arm around her waist and hauled her up against him. She was the one catching her breath now, feeling the ridge of his desire against her. "And looking is the best part," he finished in a voice of smooth velvet.

Tory Richards

Tory Richards Newsletter

Hey y'all, don't forget to join my new monthly newsletter! First one comes out in July and the yahoo join link is located on my blog.


Friday, June 26, 2009

Lust In Space

No that's not the title of my newest release, but I always wanted to say that.

Now available from Amber Heat:


Join Lyndi Lamont for a journey into the far reaches of space where the people of two different worlds come together to form an alliance. The clash of cultures leads to unexpected desires and Stellar Romance.
An ancient fertility goddess blesses the union of two archeologists.

A magical coin draws two lovers together from two different planets.

A diplomat violates the laws of two worlds to be with the woman he loves.

Included are: Alliance: Fertile Ground; Alliance: Galactic Affairs; Alliance: Cosmic Scandal

(Note: the individual stories are also available in e-book format.)

In this excerpt from Alliance: Galactic Affairs, Erok, a Ziganese pilot with ties to the space raiders and contraband on board, is rescued by a Mhajavi ship.

When his vessel had been towed aboard the Mhajavi ship, Erok opened the door and leaped out. He’d never felt so trapped, angry and helpless as he had sitting in his spacecraft, unable to move. He took a deep breath and tried to relax his tense muscles. He was thankful his rescuers were Mhajavi. At least there was a chance they hadn’t been looking for him.

When a tall Mhajavi male entered the cargo bay and greeted him, Erok held out his hand in greeting. He was relieved when the other man shook it and politely introduced himself as Belarav, captain of the Charaka.

“Thanks for the rescue,” Erok said.

“Glad to help. Our engineers can assist with engine repairs.”

“No need,” Erok said. “I can fix it myself.” He’d rather not let anyone else on board.

“As you wish. However, we will have to do an inspection of your craft. Security reasons.”

“Of course,” Erok agreed reluctantly. He doubted they’d find his treasures. The secret compartment was well hidden, but if they tapped into the ship’s computer files, there was no telling what would happen. “I’m not transporting any hazardous materials.”

The captain smiled. “Good to know. In the meantime, please come with me. There’s someone who wants to speak with you.”

Erok had expected to be questioned, so he wasn’t surprised when the ever-polite Mhajavi led him to a small conference room. Erok entered and the door closed behind him. He was surprised to see the person waiting for him was a civilian and a woman. She was young and attractive, her tall, lithe body dressed in a black body suit that showed off her slim curves and contrasted with her skin, a warm shade of golden brown. Her short hair was dark brown, framing an angular face with large, almond-shaped brown eyes that tilted up slightly at the corners.

“Welcome to the Charaka, Captain Erok. My name is Jahni.”

When she held out a hand in greeting, he took it in his. “Thank you for rescuing me.”

“It is our pleasure to be of assistance.”

Her hand still rested in his, and he had to control the urge to pull her into his arms and kiss her senseless. Gods knew, he felt senseless enough himself. It was as if she had him mesmerized. It made no sense. Though attractive, she wasn’t his usual type of woman, being more slender than well-endowed. Still, arousal hummed through his veins, and his cock grew heavy with desire.

“Believe me, the pleasure is mine,” he murmured. “I’m not good at waiting.”

She withdrew her hand from his finally, but she didn’t step back. “You were lucky we answered your call. A disabled ship is easy prey for space raiders. You must have been worried.”

He shrugged one shoulder. The raiders were the least of his worries, but he could hardly say so. “One of the hazards of the job. I was glad to hear a friendly voice, though. It was getting lonely out here.”

Her lips curved into a smile, and he suppressed the urge to run his tongue along her full lower lip. He had to force himself to pay attention to her question.

“Isn’t loneliness another hazard of your job? Since you don’t seem to have a crew.”

“I don’t spend all my time in space, thank the gods. I like people too much.” He took a small step closer to her. “Let me revise that. I like women too much.”

Her mouth quirked. “I imagine you have quite a reputation on your home world.”

“You have no idea.” He reached out to touch her hair, soft and silky, then ran the back of his hand along her jaw. “I especially like Mhajavi women.”

Her eyes widened and she swallowed. “Really? Why is that?”

He rested his hand on her throat, feeling her pulse racing beneath his fingers. “I’ve found the women of your world to be warm, generous and loving. Beautiful and sensual. Confident in their worth and their sexuality.” He let his voice drop and leaned closer to her. “In fact, I’m addicted to Mhajavi pussy.”

A small gasp escaped at his blunt talk, but she made no move to back away. Sliding his hand around to the back of her neck, he pulled her head closer until their lips met. When she kissed him back, he slipped his other arm around her waist and pulled her closer. Slanting his mouth across hers, he deepened the kiss, closing his lips over hers. He used his tongue to trace her lips, focusing on the fuller bottom lip, sucking and tugging on it. She let out a sigh, and he slipped his tongue inside her mouth. She clutched his shoulders as her breath hitched in her throat.

He drew back slightly so they could both catch their breath. She stared at him, her pupils dilated. “This shouldn’t be happening,” she whispered. “I’m supposed to be interrogating you.”

Click here for more on my Alliance series.

Lyndi Lamont

Thursday, June 25, 2009

Sex and the Action Hero/Heroine

I love writing suspenseful action scenes.
I love writing hot sex scenes. (Could be ‘cuz I love my hot heroes!)

So I guess it’s only natural that I combined my two passions into one in my July single title release, Object of Desire (Red Sage Publishing—July 15, 2009).

But melding my two loves wasn’t quite as easy as I’d thought it’d be. What’s most difficult about writing erotic, adventure-packed stories? Finding a break in the suspense action for some sex action!

In Object, Laurel Blackwood and Devon Mallory are both trying to get their hands on a legendary gem—for different purposes—and they’re constantly being shot at! (Okay, trying to kill them was almost as much fun as finding creative ways and places for them to make love!)

With bullets flying and boats blowing up and terrorists tracking their every move, I wasn’t sure these two were going to hook-up outside a shoot-out!

Luckily, Laurel and Devon are highly passionate characters, with massive sparkage between them. And the life and death situations they constantly find themselves in really gets the endorphins flowing and the hormones raging, until they literally find a way to stop, drop and take a quick tumble!

The secret, I believe, to sex and the action hero/heroine is taking advantage of the natural tension that’s created by the dangerous, life-threatening situations in which the characters are immersed. They have to always be aware of their surroundings and the perils inherent to their adrenaline-junkie lifestyles. They’re putting themselves in grave danger when they make love, because it diverts their attention—that ups the stakes and makes for even hotter chemistry! Plus, there’s a sense of urgency because the bad guys can bust in at any time…. And yet, a sexy action H/H wouldn’t skimp on satisfying his or her mate—no matter how dire the consequences of the stolen moment.

All of this leads to more intense feelings between the two, which culminates in not just a sexually charged, action-packed story, but an emotionally charged one as well!

And if that’s still not enough to burn up the pages, add a mysterious gem rumored to spark one’s deepest passion and darkest desires…

Excerpt from Object of Desire by Calista Fox
(on sale July 15 at all major bookstores, online and at; pre-order through and!)

5 Blue Ribbons from Romance Junkies!
4 Stars from Romantic Times Bookreviews!
"Bombings, kidnappings and hot, hot sex fill the pages of this engaging story. Not only are the alpha hero and heroine strong, they have intriguing flaws too."

Laurel whirled around, fists raised, prepared for battle. But her victory was short-lived.

Devon’s fingers had snapped the hook on her bra a moment before she’d employed her strategic moves. The lingerie had sprung open beneath her black T-shirt as she’d turned on him. The cloth bag containing the fire opal, which had been tucked neatly between Laurel’s full breasts, dropped to the ground, right between her parted feet.


“Hmm,” Devon mused with arrogance as he rubbed his ribs. “Isn’t that interesting?”

Laurel glanced down at the jewel, which had worked its way out of the bag when it hit the ground. The early afternoon sun caught the corner of the shield-shaped gem and a bright flash of crimson infused the vibrant orange, setting it ablaze with fiery light that illuminated the small clearing in which Laurel and Devon stood.

For endless moments, they both stared at the opal, each rendered speechless. The spectacle surrounding them was breathtaking. The gem itself was stunning. It glowed warmly as though basking in the brilliant, golden rays that filtered in through the lush foliage.

Laurel was unable to take her eyes from the vision at her feet. Her breathing grew shallow as something dark and mysterious stirred within her.

A moment later, a rapacious need tore through her body, stealing what little breath she had left. Her gaze shifted to Devon. Desire coursed through her as hot and bright as the shimmering light from Ah Kinchil’s fire opal.

The excitement racing through her body built to an intense throbbing that targeted the heart of her. Her nipples tightened as the material from her unhooked bra grazed the sensitive buds with every sharp breath she took. Her passion was instantly sparked, and its all-consuming effect was enough to make her forget everything but the gorgeous man standing before her.

“Devon,” she gasped. She had to have him. Now!


From Belize to New York to San Diego to France, Laurel Blackwood and Devon Mallory encounter danger wherever they go! And the sparks fly between them as they try to recover a legendary gem, save the kidnapped son of a Belizean dignitary, and escape a deadly terrorist cell. And whenever these two are around water, there’s even more trouble to be had!

To celebrate the July release of my novel, Object of Desire, I’ll be giving away “One Hell of an Island Adventure” beach bags filled with fun beach items, goodies and books! And one lucky reader will win an autographed collection of five Secrets anthologies (volumes that feature my novellas) and the first autographed copy of Object of Desire!

Visit me at for more details and to enter to win!



Wednesday, June 24, 2009

Flash and Fun Under the Three Suns

Nope, this bloggie isn’t what the title probably suggests to you... perhaps, you imagine flashing your bikini-clad, sexier-than-hell-body before all those hunky tanned men at the beach... yes, you’re romping or strolling with sensual allure along a white sand beach. Every male can’t help admiring your amazing looks... three suns? Okay, you’re on an out-of-this-world vacation, staying at an intergalactic paradise with three suns... wow, I wouldn’t mind writing this story... if I had time.
Time being the operative word here. But, I digress.
Actually, this is just a title to intro a piece of flash fiction I wrote recently that incorporated the day’s flash-ing theme of THREE. One of the main reasons I write flash fiction and serial flash fiction is because it’s darn fun and challenging – keeps the ole noodle nimble like working all those word puzzles does. Plus, the upside is, I’m never lacking for that next story to write.
Without further adieu ~

Flash of Trifecta Dating ~

For a world with three suns it was dang cold. Svenra hugged herself, shivering as badly as an ancient landing pod.
“That’s what I get for making an out-of-this-world date,” she muttered, gazing skyward at the glistening purple haze of night.
Of course, her almost transparent bodysuit was little protection. Her nipples proudly poked the silky glimmer fabric. Instead of dark deep pink, her nipples shimmered with silvery aurora colors tinted by pale pink, their rigid texture faithfully displayed.
Why had she allowed her Aunt to persuade her into this lunacy?
“Oh, yeah, I was in heat then.” Svenra scowled.

Easing his cock into another position, Dascerr emitted an eager groan. Already the three ridged rings of his cock were swollen with need. That was going to make a stellar impression on the beautiful woman who waited for his appearance. His telescopic gaze, a feature of his race, moved over her svelte, yet exceptionally lush body. If he’d been here for a lust orgy instead seeking a bride, his manhood could have rule.
He growled a warning to his cock, then strode toward his tail-flicking impatient date. He was unforgivably late. Seeing her had briefly paralyzed him with ball-throbbing pleasure.

Svenra whipped around at the sound of a long purposeful stride, her tiny feline ears pricking forward. Resisting the urge to step back, she fastened her gaze on the warrior beast of a male who approached, his race canine. Was her beloved Aunt insane? Still, he was a hunk of burning-lava sexuality. The kind of male she fantasized about, but didn’t realistically want. Or, did she? She sniffed his odor for her, and was pleased.
Dascerr halted before his date. His voice missing in action, he stared at her lovely features, her emerald-aqua eyes. In honor, he bowed three times.

Staying with the theme of Flash Fiction, I have a western-paranormal serial flash I’ve been penning, 200 hundred words a day, that I feature on my *blog* called, Courtship on Another Earth. Currently, there are 177 episodes. Once, I can get some ‘time’ (slipping away at supersonic speed, I swear) I plan to feature it on The Romance Studio Blue forum at ~ Savanna Kougar ~ the Fantasy Lair.
And now, for some promo-bragging ~ not easy for most of us to do. However, I am proud of this recent achievement ~

Three weeks on Siren-BookStrand’s bestseller list, *8* days at NUMBER TWO... let your appetite for pleasure rule, indulge in the Insatiable Dark brothers.

This is what one reader wrote after living the pleasure ~
Savanna Kougar's Insatiable Dark Heroes lit the fires of my desire, fanned the embers into flames, wound the coil of my need, yadayadayada...
I know all about sizzle, but Savanna can write a sex scene that revs into life every indecent, lusty, thought I've ever had. I went looking for dh after i read one passage
(He says bravo too)

Sexcerpt ~

“Do what you want.” Zotorro slid his hands beneath her, seizing the globes of her creamy voluptuous ass like a primitive. “I know what I want. Her butt filling my hands while I stroke inside her tight little hole.”
Zavier trained his gaze on Zotorro, as did Zent and Zion. A split second later, he asked what the three of them wanted to know. “You were with her?”
“You f—” Zion compressed his lips, looked down at her, then spoke. “All the way?”
Zotorro regarded them for the barest instant. “Once.” Blinking, he stared down at her kwim, his whole body tightening as hard as his cock. “Not like this.” He struck inside her swiftly, then paused, seemingly savoring the moment as if bliss itself wrapped around his rod. His entire face was a picture of rapture. “God, I want her. I’ve always wanted her. Wendra, I want you.”
He plunged again, deep, then halted. His hands worked the beautiful flesh of her ass, molding and squeezing possessively. “Next time I’m tonguing your clit, baby.”
Deliberate and with no compromise, he speared his cock in and out of her, his rhythm fast. His jade eyes burned like live coals and remained on her face. She had thrown her head back as far as she could, her expression one of abandoned pleasure. Zent and Zion fondled the swells of her breasts, idly pinching her nipples. They roved caresses along her sides, reveling in her shape.
Manacling her wrists in one hand, Zavier captured her hair, twisting the heavy silkiness around his fist. Kneeling, he pulled downward just enough to keep her trapped the way that would give her more pleasure and make her utterly theirs at the same time. She moaned, a fragile sound of feminine helplessness, a surrender to her need for them, for what they could do to her and make her feel. At her core that’s what she wanted. Though, he knew there was still a part of her that wanted to fight for her independence. Her ecstasy kept her a willing hostage.
Zavier devoured her lips with his gaze. They were ripe like juicy strawberries, their shape both sexy and adorable. Her mouth was a luxury he wanted use of, often—beneath his lips and on his body.
“That’s it. Do her.” Zent’s growl was crude, carnal. He scraped his nail up her teat.
Zavier merged his awareness with Wendy enough to gauge how she reacted to Zent. Bursts of new arousal coiled through her overriding her shock.
“Give it her.” Zion followed with his own growl, caught up in the heathen rut Zotorro performed, his cock owning her kwim. Bending to her bright red nipple, Zion lightly bit down several times.
She cried out, her eyelids winging open fast. “Yes. Oh God, yes, more.”
“That’s it, Wendra princess,” Zotorro roughly sang to her. “How hard do you want it? Harder?”
“Harder.” She was barely able to speak beyond her raging ecstasy.
“Give it to her harder. Make her tits dance for us.” Zent tweaked her tall rigid nipple, then sank his nails in. He pulled her teat straight up and tweaked hard, alternating over and over again, as Zotorro increased the pace of his long wicked thrusts.
“Shake her for us,” Zion darkly encouraged. Raising his head up, he clamped her nipple between his fingers and twisted.
“Harder, Wendy, I’m going to give it to you harder.”
“Please.” She panted.
“Yes, baby.”
She screamed softly and continued with each pounding lunge of Zotorro’s cock. Her gorgeous body jiggled and shook with each thrust, an erotic enticement that had them all groaning low in their throats.
And had them all planning on what they were going to do to her next. Zavier knew, witnessing it on their stone-carved faces, and in the fierce, hot way they handled her body. Hell to the Almighty, he knew what he wanted to do.
And he knew what he wanted to make her do. Once he took care of her and made certain she was okay.
“Just a little harder, Wendy,” Zotorro harshly rasped. “And you’ll be flying in flame around my rod.” His body gleamed with sweat, his muscles defined as splendidly as any ancient god’s in their exertion.
“You never thought you’d want it this hard, did you?”
She gurgled a scream of bliss. The flushing stain of her climax traveled up from her mound.
“Did you?” Zotorro demanded. He sank his cock inside her, a final ruthless thrust. His orgasm glowed over his physique, and glowed his eyes to white fire. Then he nearly collapsed, his pleasure so overwhelming he nearly lost consciousness.
Springing up, Zion and Zent grabbed his arms, supporting him.

Reviews ~

ParaNormalRomance Reviews by Annette

By Romance Junkies Reviewer: Noelle




Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance ~
How many Superheroes does it take to satisfy one woman who dances like a fire-goddess?

Wendy & the Dark Brothers ~ Zavier, Zent, Zion and Zotorro ~ invite you to read their love story ~
HER INSATIABLE DARK HEROES ~ what does it mean when The Harbinger arrives on a world devastated by weather wars...where super powers are given to a few... a superhero fantasy from Siren Menage Amour: Siren-BookStrand ~ ~ ~

Monday, June 22, 2009

Taste, Touch & Smell

If I had to pick a single sense as my most responsive, I'd pick smell. Scents linger with me longer than flavors or textures, perhaps because scent is a sense that has a direct line with the brain. I've had the senses on my mind since Friday, when, during an adult toy party, I had opportunity to smell and taste a lot of massage oil, body lotion and lube - scents and flavors from cinnamon and almond flower to strawberry margarita and orange creamsicle. You name a flavor, I licked it off my arm Friday night.

I was especially intrigued by a product called "Basic Instinct," a synthetic pheremone concoction based against essential oils. The formula smelled different on each of the other 8 women at my party, as it bonded to natural body scents. Interesting to discover it smells different on my husband than it does on me - and had further differences on sweaty skin compared to dry, normal-temp skin. ;)

All this taste, touch and smell brings to mind John, the hero of ALL THE WOMEN IN PEARL, my newly contracted sequel to ALL THE TREES IN PEARL. Taste is John's trigger sense and he can't look at his lady without remembering the mingled flavors of honeysuckle syrup and her lips. Even after more than ten years apart, the flavor-memory returns with sharp, strong clarity.

You'll find out more about John and his lady, Collette Carver, when the book advances into different stages of editing, but in the meantime, I'd love to know what scents, flavors, textures take you to a distant memory. Does coconut remind you of massaging suntan oil into a lover's skin? A certain detergent's fragrance put you in mind of a special night spent in a nice hotel? Tell me more.

After Dark, Meet the Reaper

Hello, everybody. Summer is finally here, but I'm already looking forward to Halloween. That's when you can expect the next installment in the Dareville series, to be called Don't Dare the Reaper. It will release right around the time I'll be at the Authors After Dark conference in New York, so I'm pleased with the synchronicity. I'll have lots of goodies to share at that event, plus sponsorship of a premium item! You have to attend to find out what it is.

With this Halloween short, coming in October from Phaze Books, comes an interesting left turn through Dareville. Like my short Dulce, which only alluded to characters in the series (and I may bring back the principles of that story for something new), this story should not really be considered part of the Dareville canon. In terms of chronology, it will be set after the events of A Winter's Dare, and if you're paying attention that would put this work in October of 2006.

I understand when readers are into a contemporary, there comes the tendency to apply the action to the current day. Because Truth or Dare released in 2004 and the subsequent novels are set almost immediately after each other, time passes more slowly in Dareville. Nobody is Twittering quite yet, and W. is still the President. I have to be very careful with cultural references when writing these stories so everything remains accurate. If you read the Kinsey Millhone mysteries by Sue Grafton, you'll notice it's set the same way. A is for Alibi came out in 1982, and Grafton has it set so subsequent stories are happening one right after the other. Of course, it doesn't make sense for a detective to work only one case a year. I'm assuming Kinsey doesn't use Twitter, either.

Eventually I'll have Dareville catch up to the rest of us, don't worry.

Another point about Reaper that sets it apart from the rest of the series is that this one is sort of a paranormal. I'll let you figure it out from the blurb in progress:

En route to a sexy Halloween soiree, Cal and Sue Briscoe are involved in a car accident and...die?

Stranded between layers of the veil, they cling to each other with the hope that whatever happens, they will stay together. As the Grim Reaper - a handsome fellow introducing himself as Gil - tries to discern their fate, the Briscoes take advantage of the moment out of time to celebrate what could be their last chance for love...or the beginning of a new life.

Still tweaking it, I hate blurb writing. I will say this, however: it ends well.

Friday, June 19, 2009

Tickle My Fancy!

As a writer of erotica and erotic romance, I am often asked what qualities I look for in a lover. Topping the list, is trust – I must be able to trust my lover with my body and my spirit – but close on the heels of trust, my lover must have a BIG….sense of humor!

I LOVE to laugh. I love smart, funny movies, silly pets, kookie relatives, whimsical greeting cards, sarcastic comic strips, and witty word play of all kinds. Yes, I even believe puns have a place in this world – even if it’s only to illicit rolling eyes and a groan of disbelief. Humor gets us through the tough times and makes good moments better. While I might have a problem with a lover who made jokes at the moment of climax (unless they were REALLY funny), post-sex snuggling is a fine venue for comedy. It indicates comfort and closeness like few other things do. And hey, falling into bed laughing is a great prelude to lots of heavy panting and shocked gasps.

Lately, my writing has tended to be pretty heavy stuff, and often the sex has involved cataclysmic, world altering events. The sequel to my award-winning erotic fantasy, Woman of the Mountain, is largely about dominance and submission and it's full of peril and danger on a cosmic level with characters who are darkly romantic, whether they are on the side of the goddess Zenthe or her nemesis, the god Kahmudj. Several of the stories I've sold recently fall more into the realm of hardboiled or noir fiction and, although there are humorous moments in “Calendar Girl” which will be in Peep Show (Fall, 2009) and “St' Nicholas' Eve” in Like a Sacred Desire, they are not funny tales. My story “Timbre” in the upcoming Best Women’s Erotica 2010 has a pretty straight tone, and while you might grin at the naughty voyeurism the protagonist is encountering, laughter is probably not – or at least I hope it’s not – going to be the lasting impression.

So, with all this serious sex going on, it's been a delight for me to have an alternative to turn to when the other stories begin to feel too dark. I've been working on a funny "space opera" story that has all the elements of erotic-fun that I enjoy. Witty characters, humorous situations, and a wonderful “gag” side kick to play off the heroine as she stumbles through her misadventures. I’ve not decided on a title for this piece yet, but the heroine – Stella – is the kind of character I like to crawl into when I need to smile while I tap away on the keyboard. She’s a spaceship courtesan who spends her last few dimes to try and escape the sordid life she’s lead. Of course, her “escape” is not without its sexy – and funny – escapades. Is the book erotic? Oh yes. Is the sex funny? Some of it certainly is, and that’s very much the point.

Of my older work, by far the lightest thing I've published is The Passions of Pearl. This was another story where I put my tongue firmly in my cheek, took the fairy tale of Snow White and put my own spin on it. Set in Colorado during the silver rush, the story focuses on the adventures of Pearl – a maid in a boarding house occupied by seven miners. When she’s given some herb-enhanced apples by an elderly woman, the fun begins!

Here’s an excerpt from Pearl:

The sweet music that swirled around her was joined by a deep harmony as natural as…


Sound asleep, lying across the dining room table, Sumner sawed away at slumbering trees.

And it was a tall tree that drew Pearl’s lustful gaze. A tent had formed in Sumner’s britches, his cock pressing against the material of his trousers as if it were about to burst through the thick material.

Pearl tiptoed to the table and put the mugs down. She didn’t know why Sumner was home so soon, but she knew if Ira caught him asleep on the table, the curmudgeon might flog the poor young man to death.

She reached out to shake Sumner awake, but her gaze again returned to the stiff peak of his trousers. The others shouldn’t be home for hours, and Pearl knew the best way to wake the sleeping miner.

Careful so as not to rouse him yet, Pearl unbuttoned the flap of Sumner’s pants, and before she could even finish, the long slab of his cock pushed through to free air like a man emerging from deep water…


Laughter can be incredibly sexy, and while sex has many facets, at its core it is about pleasurable satisfaction. Bonding as lovers, shared excitement and sensation, exercised dominance and submission, pain and denial – these are all sides of the beautiful gem of sexual union. Along with a throaty growl or a passionate gasp, laughter can be one of the most arousing sounds.


Born in Virginia and raised on a sailboat, Angela Caperton has spent extended periods of her life traveling and living abroad. Her travels have given her an appreciation of the world in all its forms and she is always on the lookout for the next adventure. Her eclectic erotica spans many genres to include romance, horror, fantasy, science fiction, contemporary, hard-edged noir, whimsical and what she calls contemporary-with-a-twist. Her erotic fantasy Woman of the Mountain won the 2008 Eppie for Best Erotica. Look for her stories published with Cleis, Black Lace, Circlet Press, eXtasy Books, and in the indie magazine Out of the Gutter.

Visit Angela at and

Thursday, June 18, 2009

Homecoming by Regina Paul, comments on being a bestseller...

Found out recently that my scifi m/m romance Homecoming hit the Top 10 Bestseller List at Eternal Press! Can you say, "doing the happy dance?!" LOL That makes two of my books that are both on their publisher's bestseller lists. For obvious and maybe not so obvious reasons this makes me ecstatic. As a full-time freelance writer, I write for both money and pleasure. My non-fiction writing which includes, content writing, articles, copywriting, and even e-books pays the rent, utility and other assorted bills that we all have to pay to survive. However, my stories are my pleasure writing, and while I also enjoy writing non-fiction as it gives my brain a break from figuring out plots, motives and such, when I write fiction is when I really get to let my brain go so to speak. I can let my characters talk to me and tell me their stories so I can share them with you. Needless to say, that my stories are being enjoyed by others is in my mind a real achievement. So, thank you to all my readers that made that possible, I would not be where I am if not for you.

In case you missed it, here is the blurb and an excerpt for Homecoming. :-)

Crew left his older lover Eagle to go into space, realizing his lifelong dream. He was not ready to settle down when Eagle wanted to make their bond formal. Eagle, a professor, has no use for space faring. Crew knows Eagle was deeply hurt and angered by what he believed was Crew’s desertion.

Now Crew is back. He’s not sure what kind of homecoming he will find. Will the man who still holds the keys to his heart and desire make him welcome or only tease and then reject him in revenge?


His mind made up, Crew walked over to Eagle, slid the jacket down his arms and threw it aside. Then holding his lover’s black gaze with his own, he unbuckled the belt at Eagle’s waist. He almost smiled when he saw Eagle’s eyes narrow, but kept it inside instead. Grabbing the end of the belt that held the buckle he pulled until it slid out of the loops of Eagle’s dress pants. Then still holding Eagle’s eyes, he dropped to his knees and rubbed his cheek against Eagle’s cloth covered erection. His lover’s scent wafted from the cloth, and Crew’s own cock which had never really gone down from before, hardened even further. He pushed his face into Eagle and continued to inhale the beloved scent. Eagle’s hands tangled in Crew’s sunny locks holding Crew in place as a groan wafted from above him. Long minutes later Crew unbuttoned and unzipped the man’s pants, sliding both the pants and Eagle’s boxers down his legs to his knees.

Wednesday, June 17, 2009

Sigh... my hero. Er, make that heroes!

For my five books at Liquid Silver, I had one cover artist, Laura Givens. I commissioned her to create a banner of my heroes, and she did an amazing job on this picture. Let me tell you a little about each hero, starting on the right and working our way to the left, counter clockwise. Click the covers to find buy info, or the banner to visit my books page.

Senth Antonello - notice the curly hair, impish smile, and the fact that unlike all the others, he's not wearing a tie. In the book Surrender Love, he shows up at a party in his honor dressed in the requisite tux his adoptive father requires (Luc, on the opposite side of the banner), but with no tie. Here's the scene, a fancy dinner at Luc's home in Tarth, where Luc is introducing Izzorah, his new lover, to his family, a few at a time, essentially to spare Izzorah from being overwhelmed by Luc's overactive brood of seven adopted sons, Senth and his half-brother Khyff included.
Luc bent to whisper to Izzorah, "Watch out for my son. He's an inveterate -- er, habitual prankster."

Izzorah smiled up at him over his shoulder and held on to Mehfawni's hand.

Khyffen offered a bow and then his hand, greeting him in Felis. NarrAy, the only Better in the room, gave Izzorah a naughty wink and welcomed him to the family.

When they reached Senthys, Luc's son commandeered Izzorah's hand and then hung an arm around his shoulders before turning with him to face Luc. "So, Daddy, is this my new mommy?"

Blinking, Izzorah sputtered, ears laid back.

Senthys laughed. "Just messin' with you, man."

Luc linked his hand with Izzorah's and brought him back to his side. "I did warn you."

Somewhat recovered, if one could recover after meeting Senthys, Izzorah brought one ear forward. "Yes, you did." He peered at Senthys. "You're a HalfKin."

"No! Really?" Senthys turned to NarrAy. "Am I a HalfKin?"

She looked him up and down. "You've got Kin eyes and fangs, but human ears and no claws or furskin. I think he's right. You probably are a HalfKin."

Izzorah lowered his ears, cheeks a dark peach against his golden skin.

"Wow, Izzorah." Senthys popped him on the shoulder. "Thanks for telling me. Did you know you're a Kin?"

"He should come with a warning label, kosset." Luc kissed Rah on the temple. "Senthys, please try to play nicely."

"Yes, Daddy."

"Where is your tie?" Luc tugged at the open collar of his son's shirt. "One would think you'd never been taught the proper way to dress."

"I had one on earlier, but it got lost in the hovercab on the way. NarrAy ravished me."

She gasped and gave Senthys a backhanded slap on his arm. "Senth!" With a blush, she admitted, "We couldn't find it anywhere."

When Izzorah chuckled, a hand in front of his mouth, Luc couldn't help but join him.
Khyff Antonello is next. A former pleasure slave, he met his wife Mehfawni when she was being groomed to serve as an ambassador to Tarth for the Kin homeworld, Felis. Khyff's loathing of the Kin was legendary; at Senth's birth, he was taken from his human mother and carried off to be slaughtered for being "an abomination" as a HalfKin. Unknown to Khyff or his mother, the Kin elder who took him gave him to human slavers, knowing he would at least live. My first book, At the Mercy of Her Pleasure begins about one month after Senth and Khyff are reunited. Here's a scene where Khyff meets Mehfawni for the first time. He's been coached to let her seduce him; on Felidae, females have all the power. For Khyff, who's been a prostitute or "slake" most of his life, he figures this will be easy. In this scene, Mehfawni, aka Fawni, spots him across the room as Empress Destoiya the Conqueror watches the meeting she'd set up take place.
Khyff turned to see where Mehfawni had gone. She was standing directly behind him. Her gaze lifted from where she'd apparently been examining his ass. She did not look the least embarrassed at being found out. She had big, golden eyes with green flecks, her pupils perfectly catlike, and the longest lashes he'd ever seen. Up close, she looked more human than he'd expected. Her breasts were round and full and the cleavage showing at the neckline teased his gaze.


"Hi," she said back, looking him up and down. "What's your name?"


Her nose wriggled.

She was smelling him. Was that good or bad? He crossed mental fingers and hoped for good. Alitus had told him to use non-scented soap and avoid cologne. Kin liked the smell of sweat.

"Khyff, hmm? Sounds Kin."

He smiled, used to the comment. He sipped the drink. "It's not."

She laughed. "Figured that one for myself." She extended a hand. "I'm Fawni."

He shook hands with her. They hadn't told him she had such a cute nickname. He set his drink on a passing waiter droid's tray. "Like a deer?"

"Like a Kin. My full name's Mehfawni. It means hunter."

He tucked both hands in his pockets, playing it slow, like Alitus had coached. Let her make the moves. Let her seduce you. "Does it fit you, being called hunter?"

"Oh, yes Khyff." She extended one claw and slid it along his jacket lapel. She smoothed the cloth, sliding her hand down to his waist. "It does indeed."

Damn. This is going to be quite a ride.

"So, Khyff. Are you intimidated by sexually aggressive women?"

His cock twitched. Are there women who aren't? I've never met any. "Sexually aggressive women?" His turn to give her body the once over. "No. But you're no woman. You're a Kin female. The way I hear it, your kind is aggressive in everything."

Her fangs showed when she smiled. "Do you have a problem with that?"

The bridge of her nose was higher, flatter than a human's. He liked it. "No. Do you have a problem with humans?"

"No." She stroked her fingers down his lapel again, lingering on the one button of his jacket, near his waist. "Do you have a place?"



Hot damn. He hadn't smiled this much in years.

Alitus had set him up with a penthouse with a fully stocked bar and plenty of snacks. Good sex always ended with the munchies. "I'm staying in the hotel."

"Then, tell me. Why are we still at this party?"
Wulf Gabriel, the supermodel who becomes both lover and the Chosen of Luc Saint-Cyr is next in line. Raised in the same household with Luc, and watching as his father, Thomas worked with Luc in his business and was his right hand man and best friend, the boy grew up respecting the older Luc. However, one fateful night when Luc was away, a burglar broke in and Thomas was killed. Wulf, having only recently learned that Luc was immortal and could be reborn repeatedly, insisted that Luc bring his father back, an impossible for anyone who was not created as an immortal Sempervian. Luc tried everything to convince Wulf gently that his father was in a better place, that he and his mother would always be cared for, but nothing got thru. At last, in a fit of fury, Wulf demanded his mother take him away from Luc's house. Unknown to the youngster, Luc paid for all his schooling, his upkeep and expenses, and kept in touch with Wulf's mother. Twenty years pass. Now thirty, Wulf finds him in a position where the only person who can help him get out of the life-threatening jam he's gotten himself into is to ask Luc's help. Though he'd rather die, he swallows his pride and asks. Luc, surprised to find himself sexually drawn to this handsome man, immediately agrees to help. Below is a bit of their first meeting after twenty years apart.
"It's not that I'm ungrateful for the opportunities I've had. I'd like to actually work. Use my mind instead of standing around getting paid to be stared at. It's brainless and mind-numbing. Most of my co-workers are pretty faces with nothing behind them."

"Ah. Now we're getting somewhere." He stroked the outside of his glass. "As I recall, you have more than one degree. What did you study?"

"Business communications. I picked up a dual degree in business administration and management, then added a third in NETway tradestandard communications."

"Which you gained before the age of twenty-two. You have a wonderful mind. How much time did you spend working in those fields before you went into modeling?"

Wulf pressed his lips together. "You already know the answer."

"Indulge me."

He toyed with his drink before answering. "None."

Saint-Cyr nodded. "Do you remember my advice when you decided to model right after graduation?"

"I can quote you in your own voice, even though you wrote it to me and didn't say it aloud."

"Is that so?" He narrowed his eyes, unwilling to let him see how much it pleased him that Wulf had read his letter. He'd agonized over writing it for days. "By all means, do."

"'Continue to study so you'll be current in your field, my boy.'" Deep voice, perfectly pitched. "'You might want to enter the business world one day.'"

Saint-Cyr tried not to smile too widely. "That was quite good, actually. You must all the rage at parties."

Wulf rolled his eyes. "My mother loved that but I never did it for anyone else."

"Good. See that you don't." Saint-Cyr tapped the table. "Did you follow my advice?"

"Of course not!" That hot, bright smile flashed. "I was far too impetuous." Wulf stirred his drink. "Besides, I thought I'd be rich and famous and wouldn't need to work."

"Ah." Saint-Cyr tilted the nearly empty glass toward him. "And are you?"

"Yeah." He laid the stir on the table. "I didn't count on being bored by that." He sipped the drink, peered down into it and pulled out the lime twist, which he popped into his mouth whole. He moved it to one side of his mouth to speak. "Or that I'd want a new career at thirty."

"Mmm. What do rich old uncles know?"

Wulf covered his eyes. "I had that coming. But to be honest, I haven't thought of you as an uncle in years."


Wulf lowered his head and smiled up at him through his lashes. The seduction in that pose sucked Saint-Cyr's breath away. "Far from it."

He held a hand over his stomach and swallowed against a throat tight with desire.
Alitus Vivaldi is next, moving R to L. A Better, a genetically enhanced generation of children who have grown up after humans stopped the program and ostracized them for their increased ability, brain power, endurance, and intelligence, Alitus moved from being a rescued teen to an adult in the palace of Empress Destoiya, and one of her Jades (a harem member). During a coup, he was the only non-military personnel with her, and used his considerable skills to help her gain access to critical information. When she freed him in thanks, he refused to leave her, so she hired him as her personal assistant. And boy does he assist her personally, several times a day. He's one of the few who can satisfy the immortal empress, and as her spymaster, he is vital to her in more ways than one. Here's a short scene illustrating their highly charged relationship as well as the toll it takes on Alitus.
He scooped her up and laid her gently on the bed. Its cool sheets against her heated skin soothed. Lying beside her fully dressed, he propped himself up to gaze down at her. Alitus took her chin in one hand and tilted her face to his as he bent for a lingering kiss that made her arch against him.

The rapture in his tender touch inflamed her. Alitus was desire embodied in a male form that had been designed for beauty and created for exquisite pleasure. Destoiya intended to plunder his passion until she had her fill of him. She spread her legs wide, inviting him without a word.

"You are so beautiful, Rheyn. " His golden lashes lowered as he took in her body. He slid his fingers between her labia and stroked her, making her arch and cry out. The stark blue of his eyes against their reddened whites spoke of his control, his insistence on caring for her first.

Even in heat like an animal, she recognized his concern for her. She closed her thighs around his hand. "Fuck me, Alitus. Now. Don't make me wait, please!" She left him no time to respond, but devoured him with kisses born of desperate hunger, wrapping her legs along the length of his. She pulled him atop her and reached between them to free his cock. "Fuck me, Alitus. Make me yours. Put your scent all over me."

He angled himself above her and put his shaft at the mouth of her pussy. "How many times do you want me to fuck you, Rheyn?"

"All night, love. All night." She gripped his collar. "Take me. Do me. Get inside me and make me beg."

He rammed into her up to the hilt and stayed there, pressed against her mound. The fullness of him inside her made her groan, greedy for more. His shaft opened her wide. He rocked her, rubbed himself back and forth inside her, pressed against her clit and opened her lips.

She rolled her head from side to side, so lost in passion she could not form words to think. Her lust for Alitus left her unguarded, vulnerable and open. Utter trust in him made her secure.

Alitus slipped an arm beneath one of her thighs as he pulled out, only to slam back in hard enough to make her scream.

"Yes, that's it, love." He rocked into her again. "There's no one here to interrupt us. Scream as loud as you want."

Destoiya braced her arms against the head of the bed and pushed up against him as he slammed into her once more. Her throaty cries erupted as an orgasm shuddered over her. Her ravenous desire demanded more. "Fuck me, Alitus. Take me. Please, please take me. Take me."

"That's right, Rheyn. Cry. Beg. " He put his mouth next to her ear. "Who makes you come all night? Who makes you beg? "

"You. You. Only you. " She twisted her hands in his hair and yanked his mouth to hers in a wolfish kiss. With Alitus pounding into her, she sobbed through another soaring, throat-clenching climax, surrendered fully to the man she loved.
Jawk Brighton, a full-blooded Kin, is next on the list. Jawk's father was one of the first Praetorian guards stationed on Felidae, and he fell in love with a female Kin breeder, one of the lowest castes, yet the one treated with the highest deference when pregnant, even above the clan leaders until after birth. Jawk's father refused to leave her, and smuggled her aboard, married her and then found out she had a son back on Felidae. Since children were taken from breeders early on, she knew only what clan he was in and his name. Rescued and reunited with his mother, Jawk grew up with a human stepfather who showed him the same love he would his own son. All was not well, however, as Jawk hated the Tarthian overlords who made Felidae their base while owning the people nothing, since they only had a treaty and were not part of the empire. The young alpha male meets Luc Saint-Cyr, and sends Luc and Wulf's relationship into a contest to see who can make whom the most jealous, resulting in completely unexpected results. In this scene, Jawk is alone with uber-alpha Luc, who is quite surprised by Jawk's intended seduction.
He rocked his erection against Luc's hard upper thigh. "Put your hands on the wall, arms out."

Luc did as told.

The sight of this man--this man--in submission to him brought a riot of emotions to the fore. Few knew who and what he really was. The thrill of having Luc Saint-Cyr at his mercy … Jawk forced himself to move slowly, to savor the moment. He set his mouth beneath Luc's jaw and huffed a deep breath against the man's skin, using the heat to increase the rich, romtzeet scent. Testosterone. Jawk's growl elicited a gasp. "I must taste you." He gripped Luc's shirt with both hands, yanked it open and swooped in to lick the bared skin.

Luc's husky moan evoked another surrender, this one of pleasure. A fine shiver swept over him, translating itself to Jawk's body every place they touched.

Jawk splayed one hand behind Luc's head, turning him so they breathed the same desire-steamed air. "Do you know what I want to do to you, human?"

With those black, black eyes closed, he seemed more human. Less of a force to be reckoned with, more of a lover. "Tell me."

Jawk growled against Luc's throat. "I want to keep you beneath me, all night. Keep you under my fangs, so I can lick every single inch of your skin."

Luc reached for him.

Jawk growled a warning. "Hands on the wall." When Luc complied, Jawk nuzzled his throat, kissed him in reward. "Good. Good. I'll tell you when to touch me. For now, human, the pleasure of touch is mine to take, yours to give."

"Jawk, I…"


When Luc opened his mouth to speak again, Jawk hissed. Saint-Cyr glared.

"If all you wanted was a boytoy, you shouldn't have hired a Kin." Jawk scratched one sharp clawtip down the man's jaw. "I can smell how hot you are. You want a Kin to dominate you in bed."

"No." Luc shook his head. "I…"

"Shh." Jawk set a fingertip on the flat planes of Luc's mouth. "It's all right for you to want it. Maybe just for one night, but you do want it." He added in a whisper alongside Luc's ear, "You need it. Crave it. And I, my fine human, am going to give it to you."
Last on the left, is Luc Saint-Cyr, the man responsible for everyone else in the picture. He is adoptive father to Senth since the young man was three and captivated Luc by picking his pocket without Luc feeling any movement. He's unoffically adopted Khyff and is watching over him and Mehfawni who are now expecting twins. He's Wulf Gabriel's former lover and must deal with Wulf's bitterness in every aspect of his life; Wulf does not let a grudge go, and he has good reason to be angry with Luc. Read Surrender Love to find out details. Then of course there is the duplicitous Jawk, whom Luc couldn't help but enjoy and love. Luc's heart is huge, big enough for all, but alas, it is spoken for and claimed in the new book Surrender Love, available now through Loose Id. Two more books in the series are coming soon, Surrender Trust, and Surrender Will. Watch for them from Loose Id!
Laura Givens captured each of my heroes in a perfect likeness what what they'd experienced or represented. She's even a character in the book Jawk, and has a gallery on my website, Dark Neon. Visit it here.
Well, now you've met most of my heroes and seen their personalities a bit. Drop by my books page and check out their books!

Chat Thursday Night

Chat TRS - Thursday Night
Hi there,I'm having a chat at The Romance Studio on Thursday night at 9pm EST. Come on over and let's talk about my new book ICE MAIDEN and my other adventures in Time :) I'll be giving away some books, lots of fun, see you there!
Jewel Adams

Tuesday, June 16, 2009


Hot off the press June 14th – from Amber Quill Press/Amber Allure.


Stan Gordon, M.D., is well aware of the unwritten code forbidding sexual liaisons between a physician and those in his charge, but when he provides intimate care for Brian Storm, a seriously injured police detective, he comes dangerously close to crossing the line. When he does, he’s shocked to find desire is forbidden, not by the code but by the emotional demons with which Brian wrestles.

Tortured while working undercover before they met, Brian knows police policy prevents him from sharing the full story with Stan, yet not revealing the trauma in order to heal his emotional scars threatens to destroy their new and deepening love. If Brian can’t overcome what’s been done to him, will Stan leave him to look for a more responsive man? And will Brian be able to resolve his secret fears that he’ll be unable to function as a cop again?


It had been a bad day at work. A multi-car collision on the nearest freeway had filled every available paramedic ambulance and brought them to Stan’s hospital. He and every surgeon on staff they could muster had been in operating rooms all day repairing damaged bodies. Now fatigue had soaked into his bones. Too tired even to remove his clothes and shower, all he’d managed to fix was a sandwich for supper, and he was holding half of it in one hand when the doorbell chimed.

A glance out the peephole showed a police officer dressed in a thick black jacket and hat standing with his back to the door. Stan’s heart lurched. Something must have happened to Brian, and they’d sent an officer to tell him. Before the illogic of that--because no one so far knew they were an item--had soaked in, the man turned, and joy sent Stan’s blood racing through his body. He flung the door wide.

“Hi,” Brian said, his face solemn as he removed his hat.

“What a wonderful surprise, Officer Storm.” He addressed him formally,
tongue-in-cheek. “I didn’t expect you tonight. I just got home, and I haven’t listened to my messages.”

“Didn’t leave one. Took a chance you’d be here.” Brian stepped across the threshold and shut the door behind him. He removed his jacket and let it and his uniform hat fall to the floor. Taking Stan’s sandwich out of his hand, he laid it on a nearby table before drawing him into his arms. He pressed Stan’s face into his shoulder and rocked with him as if he never wanted to let him go.

Tired enough to drop, Stan rested in the strong arms that held him, in the feel of their bodies tight together from head to toe and the rhythmic movement of the two of them set by Brian. Suddenly, the fatigue of the day slipped away and all was right with the world because Brian--a Brian who must’ve conquered the images that had ruined sex and desire for him--was here, holding him. Stan kissed his neck and pulled back. “Hmm. You’re skin’s chilled despite that heavy jacket.”

Brian’s face showed determination as his mouth closed on Stan’s. At first soft and searching as he kissed Stan’s mouth at the corners, his tongue traced the line of his lips and upon reaching center, sought entrance. Stan opened so their tongues could intertwine to taste and seek out the warm moisture inside and draw them closer as lovers. The pressure of Brian’s mouth increased, growing hotter and subtly demanding in an almost frantic way, as his fingers threaded through Stan’s hair and loosened it out of the conservative way it was combed and into a mass of soft curls. Then his hands made a slow journey across his shoulders and down his back, following the long curve of Stan’s spine until they slipped beneath slacks and briefs to cup his butt cheeks. One finger slid in to caress and play with the pucker between them.

Desire, hot and forbidden, flared in Stan’s chest, then shot down through navel and belly to unleash in his groin, instantly causing him to fill until he was hard and ready, every nerve in his being primed for love. Breathless from the delicious sensations roaring through him, he held back and let his lover make love to him.

When the hands slid around from the back to the front to cup and stroke what waited there for Brian’s touch, pleasure caused a soft moan to escape the doctor’s throat. When Brian unhooked Stan’s trousers and slid his briefs and slacks down, he fought to stay upright and not give in to knees weakened by longing. When Brian knelt and took the length of him into his hot, tonguing mouth, Stan fought not to explode that instant, but to let the feelings crescendo to a mind-blowing eruption. Brian’s turn to be loved would come next.

He looked down on the kneeling figure and the dark head so dear to him, so intent on coaxing him to climax. . .and saw a flat trouser front with no tenting created by an aroused dick.

Through a throat so filled with desire and need he almost couldn’t voice the most difficult words he’d ever had to utter, he begged, “Stop, Brian. . .

Available now at

Carolina Valdez

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Passion – Heat - Ecstasy

Monday, June 15, 2009

This blog is not about Adam Lambert

Yes, I know that's a picture of Adam Lambert. I totally admit that. I also admit that I think he's one of the most gorgeous men in the world. Definitely one of the most talented. He totally rocked on American Idol and I ran up my texting bill sending the word VOTE over and over. *_*

However this blog isn't about Adam Lambert. No. Despite the picture and using the name Adam Lambert several times, it definitely isn't about my favorite hottie.

It's about how much this picture of Adam Lambert reminds me of a character in my last book, Surrender Love.

Izzorah Ceeow is a little feral, a little innocent, and all male. A feline-humanoid called a Kin, he's fleeing a world that denies him basic rights, forced into a society blind to his needs, and lives for his music. When a freak accident throws Rah into the care of the most powerful man in the empire, the attention he receives is beyond anything he'd ever dreamed. But is the attraction he feels toward his rescuer gratitude, lust, or a deeper, abiding call to yield all that he is?

His hero is Luc Saint-Cyr. The prestige of his power, wealth, and influence directs an empire scattered across the stars. His word shapes the foundations of business and his financial prowess is of mythic proportions. Yet beneath the myths beats the heart of a man who craves what he has never given and is certain he will always be denied -- steadfast, faithful love.

Surrender Love
It's not rebound, payback, loneliness, or the great sex, and it's way beyond love. It's surrender.

I wanted to give you a good look at this picture, and then show you an excerpt from Surrender Love so you'll know what I mean. Okay, have you looked your fill? No? Okay then click the picture and it should open full size in another window. Then come back. I'll wait, whistling the jeopardy tune -- so please hurry. That song sticks in your head after awhile. *kayelle whistles*

Good! You're back. Okay, here's the excerpt from Surrender Love that I want you to read. In this short scene, we see the dapper, tuxedo-oriented Luc Saint-Cyr's reaction to Izzorah's favorite T-shirt (worn on the cover - below). His jeans match Adam's and this would be a favorite pose for Rah (Izzorah's nickname). Note: Kosset means "utmost treasure" in Luc's native language.

"Hmm." Luc rubbed the hem of Izzorah's T-shirt between finger and thumb. Soft, worn, and hopefully, though it didn't look it, washed countless times. "I've been meaning to ask you about this. It's ripped and stained."

Izzorah pulled it away from his body, looked down at it, and then up at Luc. "So? It's comfortable. I got this when we toured with Iron Soul. Their drummer gave it to me. It's my favorite."

"It's old. Let me get you a new one."

"I don't want a new one. Every rip on here means something. See this?" Izzorah pointed to a black smear on the gray shirt. "That's from helping them paint a banner for their show. And this hole is 'cause I was carrying equipment for Ahneesah Kin, and one of the trunks caught on it and it tore. They all smiled at me for helping them." He grinned. "Do you know how good that made me feel? This rip on the back collar is 'cause the guys and I were playing in the snow on Whinbrice. Tark grabbed me, and we ended up rolling down a hill, laughing like kids. It felt like being home, playing with my cousins. There's a lot of memory caught up in this shirt."

Shaking his head, Luc sighed. Was I ever that sentimental? In any lifetime? He shut the closet door. "Fine, love. I understand. Truly. But you need more clothes."

Those adorable Kin ears of his flattened. "Why?"

"What do you mean, 'why?' Why wouldn't you want more things?"

Izzorah's nose wrinkled. Was he sniffing or about to growl? "I'm a rocker, Luc. Not a model."

"Kosset, I'm not trying to remake you. I know possessions don't impress you."

"What about Wulf?" Izzorah stuck both hands in his pockets. "Is that why he had a closet the size of my parents' house? I don't understand why he kept so much."

"When he modeled, Wulf made a living with his looks, and his appearance itself was a marketing tool for Lucsondis. I'm not comparing you to him."

Izzorah narrowed his eyes. On a human, that would be doubt.

"Rah, you are my prince. You're my heart." He laid a hand over it. "You represent me."

His young lover's ears came straight up. "You're my warrior, and I'm proud of you. I never thought about you feeling the same way." He ducked his head. "I'm sorry."

"Look at me." When he did, Luc bent to kiss him. "You're not used to being mine yet, that's all. When you're seen in public, I want people to know how much I treasure you. I would dress you in solid gold if I could. But since you need to be able to walk" -- he caressed Izzorah's face -- "the finest clothing will have to do."

Izzorah rubbed against Luc's hand and purred. "Yes, Luc. Can I keep this shirt, though?"

"Kosset, you gave up your entire world for a chance at liberty and success. I would never deny you anything. I'd never separate you from the people or things you love."

Izzorah's smile felt like a door to summer had opened on a winter's day.

The design for the shirt on the cover was created by my son, Jamin, pictured with me here. He was dropping me off at the first Outlantacon convention, a new glbt scifi con in Atlanta, and I asked the hostess to take our pictures. I'm wearing my badge and quite unlike me, my glasses. I only need them if I want to see what I'm doing, so I hardly ever have them on. *grins*
I'll be using shirts like these as giveaways at conventions and for prizes on my yahoo group, Romance Lives Forever. Drop in and say hello!
Here is the buy info for Surrender Love.
Genre: Erotic M/M Science Fiction Romance, GLBT Multicultural/Interspecies Action Adventure
ISBN: 978-1-59632-874-7
Heat Level: R=graphic sex, plus extreme cuddling, tenderness, and lovingly playful kisses
Warnings: male/male sex, explicit content, anal sex, violence (referenced, not portrayed)
Format: ebook in multiple formats
Author website:
Author email:

Come over and check out more about the book on my website!

For author Eva Gordon -- Wolves as Archetypes in my Novels

My blog is about why my fantasy and paranormal novels center on wolves as main characters, or spirit guides. In my debut fantasy novel, The Stone of the Tenth Realm, my hero is a Scottish werewolf, an alpha of his own pack. My current work in progress is an epic lycan series, The Wolf Maiden Chronicles to be published by Vanilla Heart Publishing. Book 1, Werewolf Sanctuary will be released early summer 2009 followed by Beast Warrior, which takes place during the Viking era. My totem guide is the raven but my heart guide is the wolf. I'm not alone. Numerous authors are following the call of the wild.

Why is the wolf a common archetype in many myths and stories, even today? Nothing sends a chill down your spine more that hearing a wolf's howl in the night. While at a wolf sanctuary, I spent the night in a trailer on the grounds and was privileged to hear night after night of thirty wolves in their nightly serenade. No sound is more awesome.

Yet in the past the wolf had a more sinister reputation. During the development of agriculture and domestication of livestock people settled down and pushed out old hunting deities. Wolves were vilified as part of pagan beliefs and turned the wolf into Satan's ally. Fear of the wolf once ruled Europe. Wolves were hunted and exterminated. Legends of werewolves were rampant. Little Red Riding Hood and the story of Bisclaveret brought fear to the hearts of many. Many accused of being werewolves were tortured and or burned at the stake.

Today there is more of a movement to save the wolf and what was once considered a savage killer is now becoming a spirit guide for folks who need a strong archetype and for environmentalist who see the wolf as a "spokes creature" for nature. So why is the admiration and fear of the wolf so universal? My own explanation is that the wolf's biogeography, high intelligence; and social interaction helped them enter into the mythos and literature.

The wolf is ubiquitous, found throughout most of the world from the icy Tundra in the Northern Hemisphere to the deserts of the Arabian Peninsula. Even in countries where the wolf is not found such as Australia, there are canines that serve as a wolf proxy such as the dingo. Here in our modern homes and cities our pet dogs are constant reminders of our "wolfen" companion. We after all, created the dog from the ancestral wolf, as our most loyal companion.

Wolves display common social and intelligent behavior similar to our own. They both play and have a strict social status, just as some of our cultures have. They communicate with their kind, much the same way we do, both vocally and in non-verbal ways. We have kings and presidents, they have the alpha pair. Humans low in status such as slaves and peasants certainly were low on the pecking order or in a wolf pack the omega. Wolves also mate for life, which endears them to people who long to have a long and loving relationship with a mate. How romantic! What impressed me the most about the wolf sanctuary was the relationship between two wolves, Beasly and Barksalot. Beasily a white wolf had been rescued from a cruel man who gouged his eyes out, leaving the wolf blind and helpless. He was brought to the sanctuary and became friends with another rescued wolf, Barksalot, who literally became his "guide dog". Beasly grabbed on to Barksalot's tail and would be lead around. Barksalot would also bark to communicate with Beasly. Barking is unusual for wolves. Beasly was unusual in that he was the only blind alpha known. He passed away last year and soon after his two other companions joined him. These similarities to human behaviors let us see the good and bad in us in them.

We long to emulate their hunting prowess. Wolves use team strategy and their powerful carnassials to bring down a much larger prey. Imagine a hero that can do damage without a weapon.

The wolf is universally regarded as creatures of prophesy and omens, and have connections between the worlds of the living and the dead. The wolf is affiliated worldwide with magic, medicine, healing and transformation. In Native American culture the wolf is an important archetype. They had great respect for the wolf and often offered prayers before a hunt to the wolf spirit. Wolf spirit was also powerful medicine for shamans who traveled to the world of the dead. In the New World, there never was an attempt to eradicate the wolf from their land by the indigenous people. In Europe just as in the New World, myths and stories about wolves are universal. Early Europeans Respected the Wolf as Protector and Teacher. From the Steppes of Asia Minor to the British Isles the Wolf was mighty totemic protector. Hecate, an Ancient Greek deity was worshipped as a goddess with three wolf heads. Rome was founded by Romulus and Remus who were fed by the she-wolf, Alcala.

Ancient Celts respected the wolf as a totem and often as a spirit guide. In Ireland, King Cormac was nursed by a she-wolf. In the Viking world to be a member of the Wolf Clan, Ulfhednar was the greatest honour. Viking warriors believed that if they died a heroic death they would be turned into magnificent wolves. Vikings also believed wolves chasing and devouring the sun and moon caused eclipses. Two wolves accompanied Odin, ruler of the Norse Gods. He created the wolves Freki (Hungry One) and Geri (Greedy One) as loyal companions.

Today the wolf is once again a positive force in literature and as an important part of the predator/prey relationship that keeps nature in balance. And those hot one mate werewolf lovers make us long for the coming full moon.

Check out Eva's novels (author website)

More covers on following post...

Subsequent post for Eva Gordon...

Sunday, June 14, 2009

Homecoming by Regina Paul on Top Ten...

I went and checked my publisher Eternal Press's Top Ten List for March and April and discovered that Homecoming was #4! I love it when one of my stories makes the list because it means people are enjoying it. :-) This is one of the first time's it's happened for me, so I'm pretty psyched about it. LOL

Here's a blurb from Homecoming:

Crew left his older lover Eagle to go into space, realizing his lifelong dream. He was not ready to settle down when Eagle wanted to make their bond formal. Eagle, a professor, has no use for space faring. Crew knows Eagle was deeply hurt and angered by what he believed was Crew’s desertion.

Now Crew is back. He’s not sure what kind of homecoming he will find. Will the man who still holds the keys to his heart and desire make him welcome or only tease and then reject him in revenge?


His mind made up, Crew walked over to Eagle, slid the jacket down his arms and threw it aside. Then holding his lover’s black gaze with his own, he unbuckled the belt at Eagle’s waist. He almost smiled when he saw Eagle’s eyes narrow, but kept it inside instead. Grabbing the end of the belt that held the buckle he pulled until it slid out of the loops of Eagle’s dress pants. Then still holding Eagle’s eyes, he dropped to his knees and rubbed his cheek against Eagle’s cloth covered erection. His lover’s scent wafted from the cloth, and Crew’s own cock which had never really gone down from before, hardened even further. He pushed his face into Eagle and continued to inhale the beloved scent. Eagle’s hands tangled in Crew’s sunny locks holding Crew in place as a groan wafted from above him. Long minutes later Crew unbuttoned and unzipped the man’s pants, sliding both the pants and Eagle’s boxers down his legs to his knees.

Paperback from Amazon:
E-book from Coffee Time Romance Bookstore (they're having a sale, and my book is 25% off!)

And my other books.

Mating Season Anthology: No Place to Run from Amira Press, Get Your Copy!
Destiny's Choices from Amira Press
Get your copy today!
Like Free Reads? Check out mine at

Saturday, June 13, 2009

Exciting news!

I'm launching my fist Tory Richards newsletter in July! Join my yahoo group links box located on Romance with an Attitude and website if you're interested.

Sunday, June 7, 2009

It's All in the Jeans - excerpt

Libby led Logan through the front door and into the small kitchen without words, intensely aware that his eyes were on her. For the second time that morning she noticed he was too damn sexy. Several times while they’d been climbing down the tree she’d been conscious of her bottom against his fly, and something else, his erection. The fact that he was aroused had held her captivated and fueled her own desire. The fact that she turned him on fed her wounded ego.

Her gaze moved around the small kitchen. Where was her grandmother? She expected to see her waiting for them there with her first aid kit in hand, but the kitchen was empty. “Gram! We’re in the kitchen,” she called out, hoping her tone conveyed her wishes that she hurry up. Logan’s larger than life presence filled the small area, making Libby nervous.

“The first aid kit’s under the sink!” her grandmother hollered back. “Start without me, I’m temporarily tied up!”

Tied up? Libby frowned but faced Logan anyway. “Take your shirt off, soldier,” she ordered and turned to the door beneath the sink. She couldn’t believe she had Adonis right there in her kitchen, and that he would soon be bare-chested. “I’ll have you fixed up in no time.”

With the kit in her hand, Libby turned back to face him She was forced to take a step back, not realizing he’d moved closer to her. Her gaze fell in the vicinity of his impressive chest, unwillingly recalling what it felt like having her breasts crushed against him. She knew firsthand that Logan’s muscles were every bit as rock-hard and unbending as the old oak tree outside her grandmother’s door.

A pleasant tingle raced through her body, zeroing right in on her puckering nipples. His nipples were taut, too. Libby wandered what he’d do if she were to put her mouth on one and roll it around on her tongue. Lord─where had that thought come from?

Her gaze wandered lazily up the thick muscles in his neck to the firm set of his jaw and tightly pressed lips. The tension on his face and the stony silence in his winter frost eyes showed his anger, but over what? That he was forced to be in her company again?

“You’re not scared, are you Logan?” she teased, placing the kit on the counter next to him and opening it. Libby glanced his way, taking in his arched brow.

“Why would I be afraid of you?” Logan demanded, tugging his sleeveless t-shirt over his head and ruffling his hair in the process. “Unless you’re going to sharpen your nails on me like that damn cat of yours. A few more scars aren’t going to make any difference now.”

“Rufus isn’t my cat,” Libby corrected, pulling a cloth and some antiseptic from the kit before facing him again. Oh my! She paused from what she was doing, momentarily mesmerized by Logan’s naked chest. Adonis had a few puckered scars but it didn’t disguise the definition of muscles that even now were tightening beneath her curious gaze. She gulped, her heart skipping a beat.

“Not a very pretty sight,” he said at her hesitation. “There’s more.”

Libby’s gaze slowly moved up his chest, detecting the anger in his clipped words. A muscle twitched in his lean jaw and then her eyes met his. What she saw there caused her breath to lock in her throat. Libby knew when a man lusted after her and it wasn’t always evident in outward signs. Logan’s fierce expression revealed his hunger.

“I wasn’t staring at your scars.” It was the truth. Libby had been enthralled with the powerful shape of his male form. How the width of his broad shoulders tapered to a lean waist and hips. His jeans didn’t disguise the thickness of his solid thighs nor the fullness behind his zipper.

Lord, he must be huge! Her body responded to the thought of what it would feel like being filled by such an impressive…then right in front of her eyes the object of her interest jumped. She raised her eyes to find Logan watching her like a predator waiting for the right time to swoop.

“Gram!” she called out nervously.

“What are you afraid of?” Logan asked in a low tone, repeating her earlier challenge.

Libby squared her shoulders. “Nothing. Turn around so I can douse those scratches with antiseptic.”

He complied, presenting his back, and Libby caught her breath on seeing the damage done by Rufus’s sharp claws. Despite the scratches marring his flesh, Logan’s shoulders and back were smooth, evenly tanned and beautifully sculptured. She found that her hand was shaking when she raised it to clean the pencil-thin lines beaded with blood.

Logan’s muscles tensed the second Libby touched the soaked cloth to his skin. “I’m sorry if I’m hurting you,” she said softly, gently dabbing the wounds. He only responded with a heavy sigh. “If it’s any consolation you don’t have to worry; Rufus has had all his shots.”

“I wasn’t worried about it.” His tone was short and abrupt, ending the conversation before it had really started.

When all the blood was cleaned off, Libby reached for the tube of antibiotic cream and carefully spread some across each scratch. Beginning at his shoulders, she worked her way downward to the hollow in his back where it disappeared into his jeans. As her fingers smoothed the ointment into a scratch above his belt, Libby couldn’t help but admire his tight buns so enticingly displayed in well-worn jeans. She released a sigh that revealed more than it should have.

Without warning Logan spun around and he was suddenly facing her at only a breath’s distance. The kitchen was closing in on them. She would have taken a step back if it hadn’t been for the magnetic pull of gunmetal eyes.

She found her wrist seized. “That’s enough,” Logan said, his chest heaving with each breath, his expression sharp and hungry. He slowly pulled her closer.

Tory Richards