Saturday, February 25, 2012

Rake's Honour
by Beverley Oakley
I love to write about women stifled by convention and duty and my erotic Regency romance Rake’s Honour is no exception.
Miss Fanny Brightwell is burdened by her mother’s expectation that she will trade on her beauty and marry well, to save the family’s dwindling fortunes. Fanny’s mama has given her one week to win a marriage proposal from the man of her dreams, the dashing rake Viscount Fenton. If she fails, then she will be forced to marry the ageing libertine, Lord Slyther.

In the extract below, Fanny has just been taken by her cold, ambitious mama to meet her detestable suitor.

You can see why the bold – though nonetheless, innocent – debutante will take such huge risks later in the book to secure the affections of the irresistible Fenton.


“Ah, but, Miss Brightwell, your misfortune is that you have miscalculated, and my fortune is that it gives me all the bargaining power in the world.”

Her already great horror was compounded as she felt Lord Slyther’s hand upon her neck, gently caressing her skin. Frozen, unable to move as she accepted the truth of his assessment, she trembled as she tried to assimilate his words. Until last night, she had conducted herself with all the decorum required by a chaste innocent, hopeful of contracting a suitable marriage. True, she wasn’t decorous by nature, but only the gleam in her eye when a handsome gentleman showed interest would give her away, surely? Not her actions. Her mother had spent her lifetime trying to subdue that reckless, adventurous streak Fanny had inherited from her ill-fated father and, until last night, Fanny could not have been accused of anything that would compromise her reputation.

“It is true, my lord, that I accompanied Lord Alverley to Vauxhall, alone, in masquerade,” she whispered, “but my virtue is unblemished.”

“Surely the boy tried to kiss you.” In the firelight she saw Lord Slyther’s stained teeth bared with prurient interest before he burst out laughing. “You didn’t enjoy it, eh? Well, that’s good, because as your future husband it’s my job to show you how to kiss. Now stand up, Miss Brightwell, if you please, and face me.”

Fanny rose, silent while her mind whirled at this new and dreadful situation. Her mother was in the next room with Antoinette. When Fanny emerged with Lord Slyther to announce the news of their engagement, Lady Brightwell would clasp Fanny tenderly to her bosom in perhaps the only gesture of genuine pleasure she’d ever extend towards her eldest daughter—the daughter upon whom she was pinning all her hopes. All the family’s hopes, Fanny amended silently. Either she or Antoinette was required to make a decent marriage if the Brightwell family was not to slide into worse than simply genteel poverty. If Fanny was not prepared to sacrifice herself to this horror, there would be no more rubbing shoulders with the haut ton. No, she’d be rubbing the chilblains of some crotchety old woman to whom she’d be paid companion, while Antoinette worked as a governess and their mother lived out her days beholden to her detested cousin, having never forgiven Fanny for failing in her duty.

“Show me your ankles.”

Fanny swallowed down her surprised outrage, only raising the skirts of her cerulean blue lutestring gown when he repeated the command, his voice now cajoling.

He relaxed deeper into his chair with a sigh. “Such prettily turned little ankles, Miss Brightwell.” He patted his heart. “Indeed, you are going to bring me much pleasure in my dotage. Now let me feel your ankle, if you please. That’s right—raise your leg upon the footstool so I may bend forward and caress your pretty little limb.”

At this, Fanny objected while trying not to cry. Never had she been so demeaned in all her life. “With all due respect, my Lord, I committed no sin greater than conversing alone with Lord Alverley.”

“And kissing him.”

“One kiss—”

“Your reputation is besmirched, Miss Brightwell, and only I will be prepared to overlook it once it becomes public knowledge. Now, if you please, my dear, raise your little ankle over the arm of my chair so I may stroke it for you while we discuss the terms of this marriage you’re in no position to refuse.”

Sucking in a shuddering breath, Fanny raised her leg, hooking her ankle over the arm of Lord Slyther’s chair, bracing herself against the horror of the liberties he was about to take.

When his fat, bejewelled hands clasped her calf and began to stroke the contours up to her garters, just below the knee, she tried to transport herself back to the evening before, when in the arms of the thrilling stranger she had discovered her body’s responses to pleasures unknown. It was no use. Lord Slyther’s loathsome touch put him in the league of some wart-ridden toad, crawling, fat and oily to the touch.

At least she had the protection of a sheath of white silk, but when he tugged at the ribbon of her garter and slowly eased one stocking down to her ankle, she felt her defences all but crumble.

Beverley Oakley wrote her first romance novel when she was seventeen. Drowning the heroine on the last page (p550!) was, she soon discovered, not in the spirit of the genre so her romance-writing career ground to a halt.

A new world of romance and adventure opened up to her in a thatched cottage in the Okavango Delta, in Botswana, with a handsome Norwegian bush pilot then, later, in the back of Cessna 404s during low-level survey sorties over the French Guyanese jungle and Greenland’s ice cap. Cocooned for eight hours at a time with a lonely survey pilot was, she discovered, a great apprenticeship for a romance author.

Rake’s Honour is her first erotic Regency Historicals published by Total-e-Bound. It recently received a 5 Star rating from Just Erotic Romance Reviews. Another two erotic historicals are scheduled for later in the year.

You can find out out more about her books at:

You can buy Rake's Honour at:

Thursday, February 23, 2012

Over My Head with Wendi Zwaduk

Over My Head
Wendi Zwaduk
Heart Attack Collection
m/f, contemp, action/adventure, anal play
Available here:
What happens when two opposites realise they have more in common than expected?

I’m a dancer…and a damn good one. I work at the Silver Steel Gentlemen’s Club. My hard and fast rule? No freebies and no office dating. Except for Slade. Hard, fast, slow, gentle...I don’t care. I’ll take him any way possible. But he’s not that into me.

Or so she thinks. I’m a bouncer at the Silver Steel. Astra doesn’t realise I see her—I can’t help myself. She captivates me every time she’s on the stage. I want her, but I have a...problem. I’m not at the Steel to pick up chicks or even work the room. I’m there to stop the influx of drugs into the community. Yeah, I’m a cop. But if the job means sampling the dancers... Well, as long as I keep my heart out of it, I’ll be fine.

I hope.

Reader Advisory: This book has a kick ass hero, a dancer with all the right moves, hot sex, a little mutual anal play for good measure and mention of drug use.

Too God damned cold.

Sergeant Randy McCall blew warm air into his hands and waited for the heater to bring the temperature in the car to a liveable level. Damned force could’ve given him a car that had a working heater. He bounced his feet in a vain attempt to jumpstart his circulation. A break—he needed a fucking break and his Corvette. The ‘vette had a sweet heater, but like the rest of his life, it sat in storage. He’d been undercover for more than six months and still hadn’t made any headway.

“Slade, my man, you are so fucked,” he murmured to himself in the idling car. He glanced around the parking lot. The rest of the girls had gone home. Good. He hated to see them straggling. He’d been in the area long enough to know the Silver Steel Gentlemen’s Club was in the worst part of town. The worst. If he hadn’t been on the drug case, he’d more than likely be investigating the latest murder in the red light district—back doing the normal cop stuff.

Was there a normal anymore?

Randy shifted and twiddled with the radio knobs. It wasn’t much of a consolation, but his best friend, Drew Alwyn, had wandered through the club. Malsam probably had him preparing to go under, too. Randy shook his head. They should just close down the damned club.

He tipped his head back and ran his hand over his face as the warmth from the heater finally cut through the chill in the car. A vision of his dream girl formed in his mind. The honey blonde hair curling past her shoulders. Her creamy skin shimmering with glitter or a fine sheen of sweat. And then there were those eyes. The colour of good brandy as she stared up at him, taking him deep into her mouth. A knock on his window brought him out of his fantasy. Shit. Randy cleared his throat and reminded himself he wasn’t Randy, he was Slade McMann—bouncer and hard ass. He then chastised himself for slipping into a daydream. Too fucking close to getting himself into trouble.

I am Slade.

The knocking grew louder. “You okay?”

Slade turned. The eyes he’d been fantasising about stared back at him from the other side of the fogged glass. Part of him wanted to be irritated. The rest of him rejoiced silently. Astra Lee. He rolled the window down an inch, cursing that he’d fogged the glass.

“Are you okay? I thought you were dead.” Astra shivered. “Slade? I need you.”

Now those were words he hadn’t expected to hear. Sure, she winked at him all the time and gave him occasional free lap dances, but wasn’t that the job of the dancers—tantalise without getting too close?


He shook the thoughts from his head. “Get in. We can talk in the warmth.” He rolled his window back up, careful not to lose too much precious heat.

Astra slid into the passenger seat and rubbed her arms. “Colder than the Arctic, isn’t it?”

Slade glanced at her bare hands. “Where are your gloves, little girl?” He took both her hands in his. “You’re going to freeze.”

“My gloves grew legs and walked out while I was onstage.” She shivered next to him. “Sorry. The car died and I need a ride.”

“I didn’t see your car in the lot.” He squeezed her hands, working the circulation back into them. “Mine’s the only one here.”

“I know.” She averted her whisky gaze. “I walked here.”

“What?” Slade forced himself to remain calm. “You should’ve said something.” Astra danced as ‘Sexyback’ and had been in a relationship with the club owner, Salazar ‘Tiny’ Balthazar. He shouldn’t care who she fucked, but the thought of her lying down with the tattooed man churned his stomach.

Why it mattered to him, Slade didn’t know. Wasn’t like she’d sleep with him. He wasn’t even who he claimed to be.

“Because it’s at my brother-in-law’s garage. Wouldn’t start and my brother-in-law said it was the starter… I don’t know.”

“I can look at it tomorrow, if you want.” Slade clamped his lips together. If he talked to her much longer, he’d say something foolish.

“You can’t do any worse.” She laughed, a low, throaty laugh that sent sizzles through his veins. “How about you just take me home? I’m pooped and those damned heels hurt after an hour or two.”

“You got it.”

He wasn’t thrilled he’d have to let her go when then got there, but hell—if he said he thought about her late at night surely Astra would thank him…and take off. He put the car into gear. He missed her touch even though he barely knew her. He pulled out of the lot and into the street, careful not to skid on the freshly fallen snow.

Wendi Zwaduk - Romance to Make Your Heart Race
Also writing as Megan Slayer - Sometimes It's Fun to Squirm
Friend us both on FaceBook and Follow us on Twitter!

Its always better on dirt!

Tuesday, February 21, 2012

SJD Peterson~*~It's all in the touch: Romance A-Z - Laura Tolomei

SJD Peterson~*~It's all in the touch: Romance A-Z - Laura Tolomei: The Leader SERIES: Virtus Saga #4 AUTHOR: Laura Tolomei GENRE: GLBT, Gay, Ménage, Fantasy, Paranormal, Romance, m/m, m/m/f, m/m/m/m/f ...

Monday, February 20, 2012

Whispers Publishing is giving away a KINDLE!

Join Whispers Publishing for our 6th Anniversary Celebration all February long and get a chance to win a Kindle!

Visit the Whispers Publishing blog every day here:

Find the CAPITAL AND BOLDED LETTER in the blog post, blurb, recipe, etc, and write it down. Each day there’s a new letter. On February 29 (Leap Year-yay!), collect your last letter to solve the puzzle. Then email the message the letters spell out to with KINDLE in the subject. All names will be put into a drawing to win a Kindle!

See you there!

Whispers Publishing

bestselling interracial/multicultural romance

Wednesday, February 15, 2012

Coming Soon...

Releases February 28th from Decadent Publishing

Protection. Adventure. Love.
It's all found within The Arms of the Law...

Detective Isabella Knowles, a tough-as-nails cop, lives by the law, and knows what she wants out of life. And it doesn't include marriage or all that comes with it. Everything Isabella has ever known seems like an illusion when a new relationship makes her feel more alive than ever before.  She isn’t happy about it and fights it every step of the way.

Burned by his fiancé years ago, seer and P.I., Brady Jacobs never wants another commitment in his life.  But his bachelorhood and heart are threatened when he has one of his visions and see a killer striking too close to the woman he has recently come to love.

Danger lurks close to home and neither Brady nor Isabella like that they can’t control every situation…especially matters of the heart.

Excerpt, Kacey Hammell, © 2012

“What’s this? A party and no one told me?”
At the newest addition to the conversation, Isabella’s pulse accelerated double-time. She looked toward the door
Man, I don’t need this today.
Brady Jacobs walked—no, sauntered—into the office and heading toward Ethan, spared her not a glance.
Black denim jeans encased his firm, shapely ass like a second skin and a black T-shirt with sleeves rolled over his beautiful biceps. He looked good enough to eat. A flood of heat coursed through her body. Brady was a man who was confident in himself and when he entered the room, there was a ripple effect. Everyone sat up to take notice of him and women practically swooned, eager to catch his eye. But Brady rarely gave any one woman the time of day. He was adamant about keeping his personal life private, and his no-commitment rule was always in full force. Something he was always upfront about with the ladies.
“Hey, pal. Great game this morning.” Brady slapped Ethan on the back.
“Shit, Jacobs. You kicked my ass and then some.” Ethan chuckled. “My head just wasn’t in it today.” Isabella could see Ethan’s gaze move again toward the newspaper on Alicia’s desk.
If it wouldn’t be obvious, I’d snatch it and run to burn it.
“Morning, Ms. Alicia. How’s my sugar-girl today?” Brady headed over to Alicia’s desk, ruffling her hair as he stepped behind her, as if she were his little sister.
Leave it to Brady. Always make the ladies feel special.
“Get lost, Jacobs. I’m sick of seeing you around here,” Alicia said flippantly.
She must really be pissed about the photo. Isabella let out a frustrated sigh, causing three sets of eyes to look her way.
“Morning, Brady.” Isabella smiled, hoping she looked like a woman with not a care in the world. “What brings you to the precinct this early in the morning?”
Brady’s gaze held hers for seconds longer than she would have liked.
“Actually, I came to see Alicia. I need to go over the Vaughn case with her. I had another vision last night.” He spoke without hesitation.
Trenton’s finest P.I. had become the city’s favorite after his first vision had saved the Walker twins eight years ago. The twins, then seven years old, had wandered off into the woods behind their family home one afternoon. When they didn’t return to the house for dinner that night, their frantic mother had called the police, begging someone to help her find her missing boys.
Within hours, an Amber Alert had been called and hundreds of citizens and every cop available had combed the Walkers’ woods, looking for the boys. After six hours without success, exhaustion had set in with many of the volunteers. Everyone had worked tirelessly, but when there seemed to be no hope in sight, Brady showed up, at a frantic near-run, and charged into the woods. Within thirty minutes, he came back out with a boy tucked under each arm.
Only after the Walkers had been calmed, the boys tucked into bed, did Isabella and Connor question Brady. With much resistance, Brady confessed to his ESP, the visions that had begun during his stint in the Marines.
Most times, out of nowhere—Brady could be sleeping, driving, taking a shower—and a vision would claim him. In the eight years since the Walker incident, Brady had probably saved more lives than most cops.
While he didn’t have visions for every beating, murder, kidnapping, or mugging in New Jersey, high-profile incidents seemed to find a channel in Brady.
With each high-profile case solved successfully, Trenton’s citizens claimed him as a favorite son. If a child ran away, parents would hire Brady to assist in bringing them home. If there were a murder, police at a dead end would call Brady in.
No one thought anything unkind about him or his visions.
It made his P.I. business a huge success and he took it all in stride. Isabella admired him for it.
“Damn, Brady. Why didn’t you call me immediately?” Alicia growled in a disgruntled voice.
“I am telling you, Alicia. I had to get the whole thing in order before contacting you.” Brady shook his head and headed for the window overlooking West Street, the one she had just moments ago been staring out of.
“Well? What have you got for me?” Alicia demanded.
With a chuckle, Brady turned back to Alicia. “Impatient damn woman, aren’t you? Just like your cousin. Always impatient for more.”
Isabella felt her cheeks burn and prayed Brady wasn’t being an ass on purpose to start further questions running through Alicia’s mind. She didn’t need them from her.
“If people would deliver, Brady, I wouldn’t need more,” Isabella declared with some satisfaction. His eyes turned a darker grey than their normal silver color.
Don’t mess me with me and think you’ll win, big guy.

Mark your calendar for February 28th to grab your copy! 

Readers are welcome contact me at
And follow me at …

Tuesday, February 14, 2012


I'm going to let you in on a little secret. I love writing about cop heroes! (See GOOD COP, BAD GIRL; PROTECTIVE CUSTODY; THE CUTLER BROTHERS SERIES, SAMANTHA and the DETECTIVE!) There's just something about a man in uniform, I guess. Especially the ones who come with their own handcuffs!

So, to embrace that, I'm starting a new series called THE BADGE BUNNIES SERIES. It's all about women who have a thing for hot and sexy cops, and the first book is called SEDUCING OFFICER BARLOWE.

Happy Reading!

Gotta Love a Guy Who Comes with His Own Handcuffs!

Harley Miller has always fantasized about having sex with a cop. So, when hunky Royce Barlowe comes to her rescue after her car breaks down, she can't resist flirting with him. One thing leads to another and soon she's kissing him.

Going further than that right there on the side of the road is crazy and impulsive, not to mention reckless, but neither one can help themselves and soon he's cuffing her hands behind her back and fulfilling her wildest fantasy - which turns out to be hotter than anything she's ever imagined.


“I have a confession to make, Officer,” she said softly.

He drew her bottom lip into his mouth and sucked on it. “Is it something I’m going to have to arrest you for?”

An image of him pushing her up against the wall and frisking her popped into her head, and she stifled a moan as her pussy spasmed.

“I don’t know.” She trailed her fingers down his abs to caress his belt. “Is fantasizing about having sex with a hot cop a crime? Because I’ve fantasized about it for a long time.”

Officer Barlowe’s eyes took on a deliciously dangerous glint. But instead of kissing her again like she’d thought he would—or even unbuckling his belt and pushing down his pants so he could slip that magnificent cock of his in her pussy—he lifted her down from the car’s hood and spun her around.

Harley threw him a confused look over her shoulder. “What are you doing?”

His sensuous mouth quirked. “Playing into your fantasy.”

She opened her mouth to ask how he intended to do that, but all that came out was a soft, “Mmm,” as he slowly ran his hands down her body and back up again.

“If I were going to arrest you, I’d first have to frisk you,” he whispered in her ear. “Just to make sure you weren’t concealing any weapons.”

His breath stirred her hair, making her shiver.

“Nope, no weapons here.” He cupped her breasts, giving her nipples a squeeze through the fabric before slipping his hand between her legs. “What about here?”

She moaned as he thrust a finger in her pussy and wiggled it back and forth.

“No weapons here, either.”

He slid his finger out to fumble with something on his belt. Harley was about to look over her shoulder to see what he was doing when something cool and metallic snapped around her wrist. Handcuffs. A quiver of excitement raced through her as he gently pinned that arm behind her back and cuffed it to the other one.

She caught her bottom lip between her teeth. This was even better than her fantasies.

He put his mouth to her ear again. “Spread ‘em.”

Buy it on Amazon Kindle!

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"Stories so hot, they'll make your cheeks blush!"

Monday, February 13, 2012

Valentine's Eve - Contains Explicit Content

Happy Early Valentine’s Day!

Love is a crazy ride not for the faint of heart. Only when we are ready to embrace the fear of the unknown will we truly take the ride. Love does not have to be gentle to be meaningful, and may even seem cruel in some ways. However, when you find someone you fully give your heart to—you cherish every twist and turn.

My upcoming book, Finless, set for release April 2012 from Secret Cravings Publishing will take readers on a dark journey of intensity, sexuality, and self-discovery. All on the route to finding-LOVE. Please read an excerpt from my upcoming-Finless.

“Nathaniel took the riding crop from the hanging rack on the wall.  He slid the leather against her skin and would occasionally lightly smack the stiff shaft of the crop against her bare skin.  She started to melt into the cuffs, as the adrenaline high started to pulse in her veins.  With each stroke of the crop, he used more force and the leather began to leave welts on her exposed skin.  These would be lightly bruised areas tomorrow which Lily would wear like a trophy for a few days until they healed. 

Nathaniel put the crop back in its place and took control of the bullwhip.  He cracked the whip away from her generating an loud echo in the basement.  She shuddered slightly in delighted anticipation, knowing the whip would be cracking against her bare back and buttocks.  Nathaniel walked up to Lily and slid the “popper”- the tip of the whip- evenly against her shoulder blades.  “You want this, don’t you, Lily?”  “Yes, Master”, was her soft, yet dogged reply.

Nathaniel walked away from Lily just far enough for the “fall” of the whip to land against Lily.  Instant angry streaks appeared across her backside as she stood firmly, unmoving, as he wielded the whips’ crack expertly across Lily’s body.  Lily began to float in her mind to this place of warmth and contentment.  She never felt such peace of mind as when Nathaniel took control and gave her the physical release no one else ever had.

When he was satiated of the need to execute his power physically onto Lily, he finished by  unlocking her from the rack and bending her over the dungeon stocks and taking her from behind as he drove his pulsing cock into her hot waiting center. His release mingled with her sweat and dripped down to the dungeon floor as he turned and walked away and up the stairs to leave once again.”

My current release, “On Ellicott Street”, is sweeter, yet still demonstrates what happens when we truly find the courage to fall in love. Take a peek at an excerpt from my now available novella-

“They spent the next few hours sleeping peacefully. Their bodies spooned tightly as nesting dolls. Neither Cassie nor Eli ever experienced the depth of a connection as they shared that night. As the dawn opened to a bright, sunny day, Cassie awakened before Eli. She spent several minutes lying still listening to his deep, even breathing. She enjoyed the way his arm held her tightly to him. In the lazy haze of awakening, she closed her eyes and took in each place their bodies touched. From the way his chin nestled against the top of her head, to his arm firmly against her abdomen pulling her into his own midsection, she felt it all. Even her back feeling his taut muscles, only faintly softer in their relaxed state.

Cassie then directed her attention to his more intimate areas. It was clear Eli possessed a very satisfying masculinity by the semi-hard state the morning brought upon him. She moved ever so slightly to adjust her hips to fit more fully against his growing arousal. Cassie decided Eli’s hesitancy to consummate their union must be challenged. She needed to feel him deeply inside her, even if he had second thoughts.

* * * *

Eli’s peaceful sleep turned to a vivid dream of ecstasy the more Cassie moved against him. Not sure if reality or wishful thinking had his body going, he chose to follow the lead of his desires. He dared not open his eyes for fear his Cassie would vanish. Was she really in his bed snuggled closely to him? Further, was she really enticing him with those luscious hips rubbing ever so subtly against his hardening shaft?”

I hope you enjoyed the excerpts of two of my love creations. Please find ‘On Ellicott Street’ now available at the following distributors:

And, please stop by and say hello at my blog:

I hope you enjoyed our time together today, I hope to see you soon!

Sunday, February 12, 2012


A contest for all readers - you'll find excerpts by many authors in sweet romance, m/f and gay erotic romance. To enter, read excerpts and leave a comment. A winner will be selected from all those who commented.

Post on either the Amber Quill Readers Yahoo group

Or/and on

NEW FEATURE of the AmberHeatReaders Group is an Author Spotlight each Friday of one of Amber Quill's authors. Anne Brooke was in the headlights February 10th. Offering a giveaway is the prerogative of the author, but you'll find many books offered.

COMING updated Amber Quill Press Website with a new look, PayPal, and all kinds of other bells and whistles. Watch for it.

Carolina Valdez

Saturday, February 11, 2012

ShapeShifter Seductions ~ Cupid's Choice Blog Hop ~ Where the Paranormal Rules

Here's the first few paragraphs of the my post for the Cupid's Choice Blog Hop.

The Were-Huntress, Cupid's Victim

Like background music, Selakiah smelled the woman's werewolf lover. The smiling blue-haired barista placed a second cup of Cappuccino, sprinkled with cinnamon, before her.

Without taking her gaze off Zuquotti, the mercenary-for-hire werebeast striding toward the coffee shop from across the street -- not for a fraction of a second, Selakiah thanked the young woman, then lifted the cup and took a small sip.

"Delicious," she praised.

"You're new in town. Planning on staying in our fair Talbot's Peak for awhile?" the barista chattily asked.

There weren't that many customers. Selakiah assumed it was because the lunch crowd had departed. Even though, shapeshifters and supernaturals were the main population of this off-the-beaten-track town in Montana, many of them appeared to have regular jobs and careers. So she'd observed the past three days.

"Depends," she answered. "I'm a working in private investigator," Selakiah added because of her snow bunny outfit, her generously displayed cleavage.

More at ~ ~

~ Have a Magickal Valentine's Day ~


Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance ~

Friday, February 10, 2012 Diane Story: Kindle Store Diane Story: Kindle Store

Dragon's Bar – Being True to Yourself

This month the first book in my Whisper series is scheduled to release. Dragon's Bar is about two independent characters who have decided to accept themselves instead of conforming to the expectations of others.

The hero, Cal, is a female shapeshifter who has chosen to live as a human male. By doing this he rebels against two shapeshifter rules. Among his kind, male and female shifters should practice only shapes that are considered male or female, and they should never live in a single form.

Cal identifies as a human male and has the courage to live as such. In life and in fiction I admire people who are true to themselves. Sometimes it's difficult to stand up and say "This is who I am, like it or not."

In creating Cal and his lover, Max, I thought about times in my life when I stated my opinion and stood behind it, even if it wasn't popular. I also thought about the times when I didn't and should have.

In Dragon's Bar, the heroine, Max, is at the point in her life where she's stopped hiding and is about to stop running. Her issues stem from her family's lack of acceptance of her magic because her power feeds off sex.

She's spent her life ashamed and alienated from her family, but when she arrives in Whisper and meets Cal, she realizes she's not alone.

Dragon's Bar is about two people who meet and are instantly attracted to each other. It's about hot, supernatural sex, but it's also about being true to yourself. By opening up to Cal, Max learns she's a unique person in a town where individuality is celebrated.

About Kate

Kate Hill is a vegetarian New Englander who loves writing romantic fantasies. When she's not working on her books, she enjoys reading, working out, and researching vampires and Viking history. You can visit her online at

Dragon's Bar by Kate Hill
Coming in February 2012 from Changeling Press


Shunned by her family because of her sexual magic, Max leaves home and finds herself in a small New England town called Whisper. Feeding off sexual energy but having no hope of finding true love, Max considers her magic more a curse than a gift. Then she meets Cal.

The sexy owner of Dragon's Bar has supernatural secrets of his own. As an outcast shapeshifter female who has chosen to live as a human male, Cal has found a home in Whisper. He knows Max is his soulmate but can these two unlikely partners learn to trust each other completely?

The following excerpt from DRAGON'S BAR is for readers 18 and over.

Max stood and slung her bag over her shoulder. She paused in front of the painting. "I like this."

"Thanks. It's mine."

Raising an eyebrow she turned to him. "You're talented."

"I don't know about that, but painting helps me relax." He stood so close behind her that she felt the warmth of his body and the buzz of his sexual energy. She aroused him too. She sensed it.

A moment later, he confirmed her suspicions by brushing her hair aside and whispering in her ear, "Why are you really here, Max?"

She closed her eyes and leaned toward him. Cal's hand settled on her waist. Some women might be afraid of their big, leather-clad, soon-to-be boss making a move on them. Others might try to sue him for sexual harassment.

Did he do this to all his staff members? Pressure them for sex? Is that why Amber had seemed so uneasy when she heard Cal had hired her?

If that was the kind of game he played, then he deserved the consequences of messing with a woman whose pussy could literally pleasure him to death.

"Like I said. I want a new start." She turned and faced him, moistening her lips.

His hands settled on her waist, warming her. She slid her arms around his neck and cupped the back of his smooth head. He had a strong neck. She liked that.

"Are you coming on to me?" she whispered against his lips.

"If you want me to."

"And if I say no am I fired before I start?"

"Of course not."

Whether she believed him or not no longer mattered. Her hunger flared. If she didn't fuck right now, she'd have to find someone else. Why look for another victim when this guy was obviously willing?

"I've never seen a woman look this hot," he admitted, staring at her. "Your eyes are almost glowing. They look amazing."

"I was thinking the same thing about you," she whispered, running her hands over his chest.

His mouth covered hers in a passionate kiss. He tasted like mint, felt hot and hard and carried the scent of fresh, manly cologne.

Max closed her eyes and enjoyed the feel of his body against hers. She opened her mouth to his tongue and hers met it, matching him in hunger.

When the kiss broke, she breathed, "Do you have condoms? Never mind. I've got 'em." She tugged away from him and unzipped her backpack. She removed a condom but didn't bother with lube. He turned her on so much that she was already soaked and ready for him.

Even with her magical hunger, she usually took more time than this to warm up, but she'd never met anyone like Cal.

Thursday, February 9, 2012

Going for What You Want

In my newest release, Captive Moonlight, my heroine, Charlotte, has her fiance taken from her. She has to decide what she wants and if the hero is worth giving up what she has and putting her life in danger. That obviously happens or there wouldn't be much of a story there. *grins*

Things can be in real life too. Making a decision on what's safe or reaching for what you want. I'm kind of stunned that it's February already. I've slipped with some of my goals already, but yesterday morning, I told myself that it doesn't matter. What does matter is picking myself up and going for what I want. It lit a fire in me, and I'm feeling a lot better.

I hope that helps everyone else to keep going with what they want too. But, if that's not good enough, below I have a steamy excerpt from my novella. I hope you enjoy! I'd love to hear what you think.

Genres: Paranormal, Action Adventure/ Suspense, Wildest West, Werewolves
Series: Wolves of the Wild West, Book 3 (Multi-Author series)
Length: Novella

Buy Now

A gentlewoman will do whatever it takes to rescue her captive werewolf betrothed.

When her betrothed, Joe, is taken captive by a group of men looking for werewolf laborers, it's up to Charlotte to track him down and win him back -- even if that means putting her own life in danger.


Charlotte wrapped her arms around Joe's broad torso and scraped her fingernails gently along the length of his muscular back. His breath came out quickly against her skin as he brushed feather-light kisses against her neck.

He nudged her thighs apart. Anticipation built within her as his hand dipped to her pussy. He parted her wet folds with his callused fingers and pushed one finger inside her.

She moaned, enjoying the tantalizing sensations his skilled attention brought about. She looked into his eyes, and he grinned down at her. The look of masculine satisfaction that he could please his lover was written clearly on his face.

She opened her mouth to protest when Joe removed his finger, but then he thrust his firm cock inside her, filling her so completely in one smooth stroke.

Charlotte dug her nails into his back. Joe's eyes nearly rolled back in his head, and she couldn't help but smile as he arched into her touch. Her betrothed liked a little pain with his sex. Not much, just nails and some teeth. Then again, it was befitting of a werewolf.

They didn't talk much about that side of who he was. She figured he would share what he wanted with her. Sometimes he did, but she suspected he preferred to pretend like they were both normal. People were too quick to judge others by their race, or even species, these days.

Charlotte didn't care about any of that. Being with Joe was her only need. She trailed a fingertip across his cheek while her other hand continued to dig into his flesh.

He met her gaze. His eyes, normally dark brown, were now wolf amber. "What did I do to get such a sweet lady like you?" he said, his voice gravelly and low.

She laughed, but the sound caught in her throat as his lips caressed her breast. "I wonder that too. Maybe it was destiny."

He flicked his tongue over her nipple before pulling it into his mouth. He sucked on it, bringing pleasure sweeping through her. His other hand trailed along her full hips, which he insisted made her curvaceous and luscious.

She liked his answer.

He thrust even faster. Desire built within her as they reached ever closer toward climax. Charlotte leaned back against the pillow, clinging to him as he became the only thing real in her life. "Joe..."

Joe brushed kisses up from her breast to her neck until he finally placed a kiss on her lips. "Yes, love?" Hunger filled his eyes as he watched her. "You're getting close. So tight." He slid in and out in longer strokes.

He knew what she liked. "I love it when you talk like that." Her body clenched as orgasm rushed toward her. She gasped and gripped his back. Joe covered her lips with his, ravishing her mouth until she didn't know which way was up. He was the hungry wolf to her somewhat innocent maid.

She writhed, and only Joe's strong hands kept her in place as he thrust into her. She screamed her pleasure into his mouth as wave after wave of ecstasy cascaded through her.

Joe went still as he shot his seed inside her.

After a few moments, he pulled away. His breath came out in harsh pants. He propped himself up on his elbow and smirked at her. "I'll make an honest woman of you yet. Such a blissful marital life we'll have." He chuckled.

She cocked an eyebrow at him. "Get right on with it soon before I start sprouting gray hairs."

His eyebrows rose, and he leaned back over her. "Saucy girl. Maybe I'll have to show you what I'd like to get right on again with." He pressed his hard cock against her thigh. Yet another perk of his being a werewolf. "Maybe I'll..." He froze, and his nostrils flared. "Damn it. Your maid must be coming to check on you."

Her eyes widened, and she hopped out of bed. She stared at the door, hoping her maid, Betsy, wouldn't come in without knocking. Charlotte needed to look presentable before that happened. While she liked her maid, Betsy might feel obligated to tell Charlotte's father what she had been doing with Joe. That would not bode well.

Glancing at the other side of the room, she saw Joe shove his feet into his boots. He had dressed quickly, but then when one had supernatural speed... Before she could blink, he had crossed the room to her.

He stared down at her. "I'll call on you tomorrow after I complete my work and chores."

Charlotte stretched up on tiptoes and pressed a kiss to his lips. "I look forward to it." A soft creak of the hallway's wooden floor reached her ears. She hurriedly pulled on her dressing gown and sat in front of her vanity, picking up her brush. She'd be able to fabricate a tale for Betsy if she needed to. Joe opened the window and jumped out. Only the faint sound of his boots hitting the ground gave him away. They didn't have much to worry about since her window faced a rarely used alley.

The soft footsteps stopped outside her door. Charlotte ran the brush through her brown hair, pulling at a few tangles. She hoped Betsy would go back to sleep and not disturb her. After a brief pause and another squeak, the footsteps retreated again.

Charlotte sighed in relief, but she waited a moment more. When she was sure it was safe, she dashed across the room and closed the window. Joe was heading toward the main street. His gaze turned to meet hers as if he knew she was there. He smiled and tilted his hat.

From the shadows, a group of four men rushed at Joe.

Buy Now

Wednesday, February 8, 2012

Follow Your Heart

by Em Petrova

When I received my November 2010 issue of the Romance Writers Report, I was surprised to see an ad for Go Red for Women. As most of you know, Go Red is the American Heart Association’s campaign to educate women about the prevention of heart disease. As this topic is very close to me, I fired off an email to the RWA, letting them know how fabulous I think it is that they support the cause.

I'm a 36 year old mother of 5. My first daughter passed away in infancy from a heart defect. Ten years later, I started to get short of breath walking upstairs to do chores or tuck my kids into bed. Chronic fatigue plagued me, and I chalked it up to waking too early, doing too much. I’d just emerged from a seven-year-long writer’s block following my daughter’s death, and I hated that I had to struggle to find energy to write again.

When the chest pains began, I ran to the doctor. After a few tests, it was determined that I have a major heart condition called Aortic Valve Regurgitation. I was born with a faulty valve, which over time, stopped working efficiently, and now it's leaking severely. Eventually, I'll need a valve replacement, which is no small thought to a busy mom!

I have daily symptoms. Living with angina or shortness of breath are so normal to me, I actually notice when I feel healthy. And believe me—those instances are few and far between.

I thank God every day for my wonderful husband, who takes a big load off me, and for my kids, who understand why Mom won’t go into the swimming pool with them. Also, I plow on for my writing career, which has just hit its stride.

I began writing at the age of twelve, and during my teen years was hardly ever seen without a Bic pen (generously gnawed on the end) and wide-ruled spiral bound notebook. Of course, those first stories were young adult, Flowers in the Attic meets Stephen King’s Misery novels. After the fog of my daughter’s death cleared, I picked up the pen again and began to write a broad range of genres, but at the heart of the story, there was always romance.

On October 1, 2010, I celebrated the release of my debut novel, Runes, and simultaneously mourned my daughter’s Angel Day. Later that month, I sold three more books—one of these a literary fiction novel with over forty previous rejections—and two of those sold in two days!

I love my life, and though my health is not what I wish it to be, I encourage all of you to follow your dreams, no matter what obstacles arise.

Most women won’t have the heart condition I have, or suffer the loss of a child, but we all must care for ourselves. Go Red helps us to learn how. Thanks for hearing my story and supporting the cause.

Em Petrova

American Heart Association

Monday, February 6, 2012

Werebunnies Gone Wild

Werebunnies Gone Wild by Stephanie Beck

Some things in life ooze sweet, soft funness…like bunnies. Not rabbits, rabbits can be badass (Roger Rabbit, anyone?).
Bunnies, however are sweet and make me think of cozy blankies
and itty bitty twitching noses.

Yeah, werebunnies aren’t like that.

Sex-crazed with a collective one track mind, werebunnies demand one thing: pleasure. The cost
doesn’t matter, the consequences are inconsequential and in a pinch they turn to cupcakes and porn—and not the cheap kinds, either.
The werebunny world turns only for the werebunnies. The men who happen to enter into their orbit tend to be ones whose appetites lend them to jumping right in to the often naked fray.
No happily ever after is required for the werebunnies. Their plans already include being happy and the world is full of men, so attachments simply don’t happen.
The men who happen to cuddle up to the werebunnies are expendable. They bring their hard cocks and willing mouths to the party, but whether they make it any further is up to the
werebunnies…who simply don’t care what happen to the guys after they’ve served their purpose.
Get to know the werebunnies of the F*ck Like Bunnies series.
Bunny Club:
When rumors about a sex club lead them to the real thing, Jarrod and his cousin Alex think
they’ve found nirvana. Filled with bubbly blondes and luscious brunettes, the Bunny Club is any man’s wet dream. Surrounded by their sexual fantasies, they settle in for an unbelievable night filled with women, sex and pleasure unlike anything they’ve ever dreamed. When the sex turns weird and men start dying at the hands of the gorgeous women, Jarrod’s and Alex’s plans to get laid are put on the back burner in favor of escaping the Bunny Club with their lives—if they don’t die with smiles on their faces first.
Air Bunnies: Second in the F*ck Like Bunnies series—wicked werebunnies worldwide!
Jake’s missed fight might cost him his job. Desperate to get to Malaysia, he follows a fellow traveler’s advice and gets a seat on Double Ear Air. An airline bent on sexy customer service, where the flight attendants offer much more than peanuts and stale pretzels—and don’t adhere to those pesky rules against the mile high club and giving head in the aisles. Just when he’s ready to make Double Ear Air his carrier of choice, Jake learns the ugly secret of just who, or rather what, the women really are. To survive to his destination, Jake will have to keep a bevy of horny, blonde werebunnies sexually satisfied or risk being a snack for a pack of ravenous succubus

Saturday, February 4, 2012

Review: The Demon Waiter by Laura Tolomei

Review: The Demon Waiter by Laura Tolomei

Pre-Order Odd by Leigh Ellwood

I am pleased to announce that ODD, my story with the All Romance Perfect Strangers series, is now available for pre-order! This is an exclusive download through ARe, only $1.99.

Click here to order.


Opposites do attract...hard and fast. Greg Hargrove has a ticket to the hottest party in town: Drew Bradley's annual Odd Ball. Dressed for the theme as one half of a popular sitcom duo, Greg doesn't expect to meet his match and engage in a secret night of passion while the festivities rage on. When handsome Rick Wade falls on his radar, however, Greg decides to partake of more explicit party favors. Is Rick more than a one-night stand, though, or can Greg look forward to many passion-filled reruns?

In the ten years Drew Bradley hosted his annual Odd Ball, people knew to expect two events: sometime toward the end of the evening Drew would lose his pants, and the two winners of the Best Oscar and Best Felix costume awards would immediately hook up afterward and live happily ever after. That many of the happy couples continued to come to the big party as their chosen television personas stood testament to their host’s impeccable matchmaking—and entertaining—skills.

Greg Hargrove personally didn’t care if either happened on his watch. After years of watching siblings primp and prepare for the biggest bash in town, he’d finally reached the requisite legal drinking age and could now attend. Though he’d never seen the television show that inspired the theme of the party, he’d gleaned enough by living vicariously through older friends—and researching YouTube clips—to know the score.

On November fourteenth, Felix Unger was asked to leave his apartment. This request came from his wife...

There was more to the prologue, he knew, but in his excitement Greg thought himself fortunate to recall his own name, much less those of characters from a TV show that ceased airing first run episodes long before he was a “glint in the mailman’s eye,” as his brothers liked to tease.

Greg adjusted his Yankees ball cap and smoothed a hand over his three-day-old stubble. It itched like hell, but he wanted to shoot for realism even if he didn’t win the grand costume prize. Would be nice, though, since neither of his older brothers had won before, and Greg had heard Drew didn’t skimp on the goods. Last year’s couple, he’d been told, won matching gold watches. At the front door of Drew’s McMansion of a home, a wiry, unsmiling man with a long nose looked down at Greg over his John Lennon glasses. “Your invitation?” He held out a pale, almost wrinkleless palm.

“Sure.” Greg surrendered the requisite card given to him by his brother Joe, who couldn’t make it this time. Joe hadn’t kidded him when he warned about the exclusivity of the event. What the hell went on here that required protection against crashers?

The butler-bouncer, for lack of a better description, peered down at the invitation for a long moment, as though determining its authenticity. Then, curling it in his bony hand, he addressed Greg. “You may access all designated party rooms with the exception of the VIP area, and you must stay in character. How everyone behaves throughout the evening will determine the final judging for the contest.”

“Got it.” Damn, people sure took this party seriously. At least, going as slovenly Oscar rather than uptight Felix, Greg believed he could blend in easily. Acting like a slob came naturally to him anyway.

“Good.” The man startled Greg with a warm smile that completely softened the landscape of his face. “Enjoy yourself.”

Greg passed through a wide foyer of gilt-framed mirrors and Queen Anne occasional tables to reach the main party area. Drew Bradley certainly didn’t hide his wealth, and Greg wondered how the guy came into his money. According to rumors, he’d either inherited it or invested wisely in the early days of Internet IPOs. Either way, the guy was apparently loaded.

On seeing the vast living room filled with partygoers, Greg realized the host didn’t spare any expense for this gig, either.

A shorter, blond Felix, crisp and clean in pleated beige slacks, white Oxford, and a green sweater vest, approached from the left and offered a can of Schlitz.

“You’re new,” he said. It wasn’t a question.

Greg nodded. “Yeah, I just got in,” he said, his attention still drawn to the room. A thick white line divided the space, half the room appointed with elegant antiques and servers bearing silver trays of fancy hors d’oeuvres. A string trio played in one corner. Not a speck on the carpet.

The other side, by contrast, looked as if a tornado had hit. Junky couches peppered with tortilla shards crowded the space, and plastic bowls of pretzels and chips sat everywhere. No coasters under cans, no napkins. A group of Oscars gathered around a flat screen television, watching a hockey match.

Amid the activity, though, Greg did notice how the guests crossed the line to interact with each other. A female Felix turned up her nose as her Oscar companion offered her a bite of a dripping sandwich, while a Chinese Oscar got his hand slapped when he tried to touch a vase on the Felix side.

Greg’s new Felix friend chuckled. “No, I meant you’re new here, period. I’ve been coming to this party since the very first year. I would have remembered you.”

“Oh?” Greg finally turned to see how handsome his companion looked despite the stuffy demeanor. This Felix stood straight, a good head shorter than Greg, and possessed a serene quality he usually found attractive. Greg liked his men slim and tended to favor twinks, though he’d not before considered anybody older. If what this man said was true, he had at least six to ten years on Greg. The Odd Ball admission required guests to be at least twenty-one.

Greg folded his arms and regarded the Poindexter. “What makes you think you could single me out?” he challenged.

Friday, February 3, 2012

My heroes have always been quirky

I have to confess, I love heroes who are masculine, but not macho and who are best described as quirky.

I think it all started way back with A Wrinkle in Time and Calvin O'Keefe. Oh yeah, I had a crush on him. I love Daniel Jackson from Stargate SG-1. Brainy with a big heart, and an innner stregth. Yes, I even like Ron from Kim Possible. Forget Orlando Bloom in Pirates of the Carribean, it was Johnny Depp who made my heart go pitter pat. And yes, a part of me really respects Depp for his roles because they aren't always macho or Alpha, and it takes great talent to pull them off. I love Big Bang Theory with all four nerds. Leonard is definitely my favorite.

I enjoy Alphas sometimes, don't get me wrong. In Kinley MacGregor's, Master of Desire, I mean who doesn't fall in love with Draven? But I fell for Simon at the same time *dreamy sigh*. I hurrahed when he got his own novella and read it several times. Probably the closest to an Alpha hero that I love is Mal from Firefly. But he's not afraid to be quirky and dress in women's clothes to pull off a job either.

So are there any non-macho heroes who have you at hello?

May the muses have heroes

Mechele Armstrong