Mahalia Levy is in the Spotlight!

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Mahalia is giving away the following prizes when her tour ends:

3 winners will receive an eBook of choice from the KISS ME series and their choice of any one Mahalia’s backlist eBooks.

2 runners up will receive a SWAG pack (US/CANADA ONLY) If winner is international they will receive an eBook of choice instead.

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RAFFLECOPTER LINK: (please use this link if above code does not work)

Book One of the Kiss Me Series Rhapsody Cover

Neveah Harris finally has her chance. Two albums in a row she’s worked with Crimson Rage’s Vocalist/lead guitarist. From his perfectly styled hair to the faded jeans and tee’s he sports, she’s quickly becoming groupie fan number one.The only problem is, he doesn’t notice her dropped jaw every-time he enters the same room. Her age and weight are issues she must face in order to drum up enough courage to get his number.
Wade ‘Garrick’ Stevens is psyched to work on the newest cover for his band mates. They have a vision that only one sexy graphic artist can bring to life. The last two sold goldmines thanks to her brilliance. Underneath her professional front he senses she may be into just more than a working environment, which is just fine with him.
Years younger than her, he plans to convince her on one date. He’s sure sparks will ignite.

AVAILABLE AT: Publisher | Amazon | All Romance Ebooks

Shut Up and Kiss Me
Book Two of the Kiss Me Series SHut Up and Kiss Me Cover

Brought up in a traditional family Carrie Stevens fights the bounds of propriety and flaunts her deviance with no regard to personal consequences. With one exception…her big brother’s wishes where his band is concerned. The sparks that fly when she’s around the one taboo she’d love to date are only a tempting siren’s song, until she sees there’s more to Shea than she’d originally thought. The sexy drummer might just make her lose her heart, if he can put her past to rest.
Shea McNamara has been in love with Carrie Stevens for years. Running in the same circle as her isn’t easy. Her choice in men irks him but she’s in his blood as much as the drums he loves to beat. All he has to do is convince her there’s more to life than the fast lane. With her flirty attitude he refuses to allow her to call the shots.

AVAILABLE AT: Publisher | Amazon | All Romance Ebooks

Kiss Me Like You Mean It
Book Three of the Kiss Me Series KissMeLikeYouMeanIt_LRG

One gigantic mistake threatens to bring Carlie Steven’s world crumbling down. Everywhere she turns she’s faced with reminders of the drunken moment leaving her friendless, expelled from her Ivy League College. With Jackson out of the country singing for the troops, his empty home will give her the breathing room she needs while coming up with a game plan to fix her situation.
Playing guitar used to be enough for Jackson Laurant. For years he’s played the part of not giving a fuck. Too many one night stands in the bag leave him wanting what his two friends have found. With only a handful of shows left on the tour, his mind wanders to the off limits Carlie Stevens. For years, he’s denied the brewing attraction. When he finds she’s taken up residence in his home. He may have the in he’s wanted for too many years to count.

AVAILABLE AT: Publisher | Amazon | All Romance Ebooks

Being smart and sassy with a great sense of humor comes easily for Mahalia Levey. An avid reader of books, she found herself enchanted with disappearing completely into the worlds authors created. One day she vowed to herself she’d be one of them. Then family life came, and college right after. Swayed from her childhood course of action, it took many years for her to get back to that place she held dear as a child. Now she is running full steam ahead to keep up with the many ideas flowing freely. She plans on taking her work to higher levels and expanding her genres. Her main focus is giving her readers variety. Her works in progress include paranormal, fantasy and mainstream romance. Taking characters and watching them grow past what she’s imagined is her true passion.
In her personal life, she vowed never to own a minivan and has so far succeeded in not being the soccer mom. The proud mother of one teen and two pre-teens is not easily flustered. Between sports and art classes for the eldest, she takes time out during the day for herself. Her one love, best friend of twelve years has finally caught her. They bought their first house together and are compromising over interior decorations.
Connect with Mahalia:
Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads

KISS ME LIKE YOU MEAN IT Blog Tour Schedule – 8/01 – 8/10

8/01- Vampires, Werewolves & Fairies Oh My!
8/02 – Book Monster Reviews

8/02- Kelly P’s Blog

8/03- Tome Tender

8/03- CS Maxwell’s Blog

8/04- Miscellaneous Thoughts of A Bookaholic

8/04 – Offbeat Vagabond

8/05- Smoldering Heat

8/06 – My Secret Romance

8/06- Bookin’ It Reviews

8/06- Dalene’s Book Reviews

8/07- Babbling About Books

8/07- Literal Hotties Naughty Book Reviews

8/08- Wicked Readings by Tawania

8/08- Fandom Fanatic

8/09- You Gotta Read Reviews

8/09 – Christine’s Blog

8/10- Book Lovin’ Mamas

8/10- Shayna Renee’s Spicy Reads

8/10- Sassy Book Lovers


~*~*Welcome Patricia A. Knight~*~*

Hers to Command Button 300 x 225

Hers To Command
Verdantia Series Book One
Patricia A. Knight

Genre: ♂♀♂ Erotic Romance, Sci-fi/futuristic

Publisher: Troll River Publications
Date of Publication: 6/4/2013

ISBN: 978-1-939564-10-8

Number of pages: 193
Word Count: 73,428

Cover Artist: Truenotdreams

Book Description:

Conte Camliel Aristos deTano, Ari, has long spurned the marriage forced upon him. Princess Fleur Constante, his contractual bride and the beautiful future queen, though young and inexperienced, is willing to risk everything – including her own sanity – to save her planet.

The inhabitants of the sentient planet, Verdantia, are poised on the precipice of extinction following a brutal invasion by an off-world, nomadic horde. Verdantia’s capital, Sylvan Mintoth, must have its failing energy shield restored, or the planet is doomed. The Elders know the shield can draw energy from only one thing—a very arduous and grueling coupling of two specific people pre-chosen by the planet, Herself, and promised by prearranged marriage contract.

Verdantia draws strength from the duo, but the sentient planet whispers to Ari that a third is necessary – Ari’s aide de camp, Visconte Doral deLorion, an angelically handsome, skilled assassin who silently surrendered his heart to Ari long ago.
The trio struggles to make this surprising partnership harmonious, pushing through pride, scars of past abuse, fears of inexperience and distrust. To save Verdantia, they must overcome their individual weaknesses and realize their full potential. Only the tetriarch and their combined synergy, can harness Verdantia’s immense power to shield its citizens from invasion.

Book Trailer:

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About the Author:

Patricia A. Knight is the pen name for an eternal romantic who lives in Dallas, Texas surrounded by her horses, dogs and the best man on the face of the earth – oh yeah, and the most enormous bullfrogs you will ever see. Word to the wise: don’t swim in the pool after dark.

I love to hear from my readers and can be reached at or

Check out my latest “Hunk of the Day,” book releases, contests and other fun stuff on my face book page:






It was perhaps an hour later when her guard tapped lightly. “Your Highness.”
“Yes, Eric.”
“Conte DeTano is here.”
“Please admit him.” She watched from her seat on the chaise as Ari strode into the room.
“Your Highness.”
“Conte,” she smiled. “Please, sit.”
“I prefer to stand if it is the same to you, Your Highness,” he replied curtly.
“It is not. I dislike having you loom over me like a bomb about to explode.”
A laugh startled from his lips and he smiled as he sat down in the chair Patricio had vacated.
He is so handsome when he smiles.
“My second-in-command sent me some troublesome news today. I am out of sorts. I didn’t mean to direct my temper at you, Your Highness.”
“Apology accepted. I would like it very much if you would call me Fleur. You did before.”
“Yes, well. Being balls-deep between your legs creates a certain intimacy,” Ari said with a wicked grin. “If that is your wish, Your Highness, Fleur, it is.”
Heat crept up her cheeks. He says the most unexpected things. Taking a deep breath, she regrouped, handing Ari the scroll. “Tell me about this.”
He scanned carefully as he unrolled the stiff parchment. He stopped midway, then rolled it back up. With a soft chime of medallions, he re-tied the ribbons, placing it on a low table beside him. “What is it you wish to know?”
Oh dear. She studied his austere expression, trying to decide on a diplomatic way to start. “Why is marrying me so distasteful that you would flee the planet for fifteen years?” She winced inwardly. Tactful, Fleur—very subtle.
Ari’s eyes narrowed and his fingers started drumming on the arms of the chair. He rose and paced to the window, then stood looking out.
“It was not the thought of marriage to you that was distasteful. What was distasteful was the thought of a marriage to anyone based solely on my genetics. It is how you breed animals, not people. I am not a stud horse to be bred to Patricio’s favorite mare.” His back stiffened. “My apologies. I did not mean…”
“Please, Ari, sit down,” she interrupted. Patricio’s ‘mare’? Ouch.
“I prefer to stand,” he responded curtly, not moving from the window.
She rolled her eyes in exasperation. “I am not used to speaking to someone’s backside half-way across the room. Will you at least turn around?”
A smile flickered. He turned. “I didn’t want to ‘loom’.” Laughter lurked in his eyes, and a half-smile turned his lips.
He really is quite extraordinary. A soft laugh escaped her. “Thank you.”
He nodded and folded his arms across his chest, then crossed his legs at the ankles as he leaned back onto the windowsill. The heavy muscles of his arms and chest stretched his black knit sweater, and the black leather leggings tucked into his over-the-knee boots left little for her to imagine. Such a handsome man.
Something about the way his eyes explored her body sent heat up and down her spine then straight to her lady-parts. She remembered the weight of him as he lay atop her. She remembered looking up into his gold-flecked eyes, feeling his mobile lips caressing her cheeks, feeling the rough brush of his beard on her tender inner skin as he—mind on present business, Fleur!
“Ahem,” she cleared her throat. “So, have you given this contract any further thought? Do you still find it so distasteful?” Oh, by the gods, Fleur, show some subtlety. What is wrong with you?
“Why? Are you going to ask me to marry you?” He eyed her dispassionately.
She held his gaze steadily. How did this conversation get away from me? “Not today.”
“Good.” He looked at the timekeeper on her table. “Your Highness, I am very short on time. I will continue this discussion with you another day.” He started toward her door.
“You haven’t answered my question, sir!”
“Yes. No,” he tossed over his shoulder as he left the room.
Argggh! She slumped back onto the couch. Yes? No? What? She replayed their conversation.
Have you given this contract further thought? “Yes.” Do you still find it so distasteful? “No.”
Her mouth gradually developed a delighted smile.

Welcome Author Marni Mann


Seductive Shadows
by Marni Mann
Contemporary Erotic Romance
Publisher: Booktrope
Release Date: July 17, 2013
Heat Level: Sizzling
Word Count: 86,000

Available at:
Amazon –
Kobo –

Charlie is a passionate, sensually inspired art student, desperately seeking an escape from an abusive past that haunts her and a tragic accident that emptied her heart. Scarred and unable to love, her yearning for physical pleasure and contact leads her into a tantalizing, dangerous world of power and seduction. The anonymity of the deal offers security, the money provides financial freedom, and the madam’s authority is the mother figure she longs for.

But the thrill of the mansion and its arousing dominance quickly fades when she meets the renowned yet mysterious Cameron Hardy, whose intense, baby blue eyes send a nervous flutter through her core. He’s sexy, and not in a subtle way. Cameron stimulates her art, intellect and desires. Just as he begins to break through her emotional boundaries, Charlie discovers a devastating connection between her past and her scandalous work at the mansion, shattering everything she thought to be true.

Provocative, intoxicating and erotic, Seductive Shadows is the unforgettable tale of a young woman’s discovery as she learns to forgive, to love and be loved, and to find redemption amidst a memorable journey that will captivate your mind and stimulate your soul.

Warning: This title is intended for readers over the age of 18 as it contains explicit sex scenes and/or situations (including a f/f scene, multiple partners and light bondage) and adult language, and may be considered offensive to some readers.

About the Author:
A New Englander at heart, Marni Mann is now a Floridian inspired by the sandy beaches and hot pink sunsets of Sarasota. She taps mainstream appeal and shakes worldwide taboos, taking her readers on a dark and breathtaking journey. When she’s not nose deep in her laptop, she’s scouring for chocolate, traveling, reading, or walking her four-legged children. Visit her at mmann-authorphoto

Connect with Marni Mann
Website –
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I wasn’t a prostitute. I was an artist who used her fingers to paint a fantasy and her body fulfilled it. The muse, or the canvas, but always the artist. And when I was desired by men was when I felt the most creative.

Just because I was hired to provide pleasure, didn’t mean I couldn’t enjoy every moment of passion and every uninhibited deviant thought. I was turned on by the cameras that would point toward my bed, the lust that would be whispered in my ears, and playing out the fantasy that I would compose. Not knowing anything about these men, what the top half of their faces looked like, their names, meant they also knew nothing about me. I would never have to discuss my past or the accident; the only thing I would have to unzip would be my lingerie. I would have enough money to pay off my mother’s debt in a reasonable amount of time and take more than one class a semester. The arrangement was perfect.

But then I met Cameron. With icy, baby blue eyes so intense…he was sexy, and not in a subtle way. Bold and confident, he inspired my art and challenged my emotions and, for the first time since the accident, I felt a strong connection to another person.

I had a burning desire to trust Cameron, to escape the dark life I had been leading and reveal to him the wounds of my soul…until I discovered a devastating connection between my past and the mansion. And in the midst of all the truth I uncovered, I learned my life was in imminent danger….

Prize is a $10 Amazon Gift Card AND a $10 Starbucks Gift Card from Marni Mann. Contest is tour-wide, open internationally and ends August 7. Must be 18 years of age or older to enter.

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RAFFLECOPTER LINK (for those unable to use the code above):


CJ Ellison is in the Spotlight!

Avoiding Mr Right Banner 450 x 169

Avoiding Mr Right
Walk on the Wild Side, Book 2
C.J. Ellisson

Genre: erotic romance

Publisher: Red Hot Publishing


Carla Johnson thinks issuing orders to a lover will keep her heart safe and leave her in charge of her own destiny. Afraid for Carla’s future, her best friend Heather implores her to change her self-centered ways, handing her a list of love life mistakes to steer clear of:

1. Casual Sex
2. Friends with Benefits
3. Avoidance of Intimacy

Carla ignores the list—unwilling to face she might have a commitment problem. Until she invites a co-worker to her place one night. She instantly regrets the hum-drum sexual encounter and discourages the accountant from pursuing her.

Andy Shea refuses to become another lover the feisty blonde dumps. It’ll take a patient man with a strong hand to unlock Carla’s sexual awareness and win her heart. He’s up for the challenge to convince her he’s the one—and eager to prove this number cruncher won’t make a boring bedmate.

Amazon Goodreads
About the Author:

C.J. Ellisson is the USA Today Bestselling author of the NYT Bestselling book, Vanilla on Top, the bestselling V V Inn series, and several erotica shorts. She lives in northern Virginia with her husband, two children, two dogs, and a fluffy black cat who makes her sneeze.

Unlike most full-time authors, she’s also battling severe chronic illness. C.J. works daily to put her Lupus into remission and continues to fight numerous bacterial infections while her immune system slowly attacks her body.

She turned to writing when she could no longer work outside the home and claims the escape of penning contemporary fantasy, erotica, and erotic romance has helped save her sanity.

To learn more about C.J. and her other books, please stop by the author’s website or visit her on facebook at

Chapter One

“Casual Sex,” I say, twisting the phrase so it sounds like a bad thing. “There. I said it.” I look across the table and meet my best friend’s dark, knowing gaze. “Happy now?” Unable to hold her penetrating stare any longer, I reach for my tepid chai latte, grateful it’s tasty even cold.

“I know you think I’m being a shrewish bitch, Carla. But it’s for your own good.” Heather picks up her favorite vanilla cappuccino and takes a drink.

“And why is that, exactly?” Regret gnaws at my stomach. Why did I let myself get dragged into this conversation during my lunch hour? “Sure, you found your great ‘one-and-only’ guy, but I don’t think that’s going to happen with me.”

Heather ignores me and taps her finger on the small sheet of paper on the table between us. “Next one.”

Geez, this feels like a one-woman intervention, and despite the jokes I could make over that realization, I’m really not enjoying it. The pleading on her compassionate face has me glancing at the slip of paper once more. “Friends with Benefits. Oh, come on, that too? I kind of like that one. Makes it much easier to stay friends when the guy winds up being dumb, but not bad in bed.”

Heather’s mouth sets in a firm line and I plow ahead to the last item on her unhelpful “list” of what she sees as my love life faults. “Avoidance of Intimacy. Seriously? You think I do all this crap?” A knot of anxiety sits in my throat. “I’m not a fun-loving chick all the time, you know. I have been searching for the right guy.” The right guy who’s perfect in the sack and magically disappears before dawn. “Just haven’t found him yet.”

“Really?” she counters, showing a touch of backbone my once-shy friend didn’t have a month ago. “And none of them were worthy of your time after you slept with them, huh?”

A grimace twists my face and I try to smooth my features. “It’s not like that—I swear.” Secretly I fear it’s exactly like that. And what the hell does that say about me? That I’m a slut? I’m not. I like sex but I don’t sleep with just anyone like her darned unasked for list of faults implies. “They weren’t good matches for me.”

“Uh-huh. Sure.”

“Why are we discussing this…,” I gesture to the paper between us, “list of yours? I’m a careful woman. I always make sure they use a condom. My instincts are good. I’ve never been in a situation I couldn’t handle. What happened to make you think I needed—no wanted—your input in my love life?”

Heather’s strength deflates and I feel like I’ve kicked a puppy. “It’s because I care about you, Carla, and want to see you happy. You keep up with this casual approach to relationships and you’re going to be alone for the rest of your life.”

A snort erupts from me. “Like that’s a bad thing? I’m not afraid of being alone. In fact, I’m quite all right with it.” I resist the urge, just barely, to throw her words from a few weeks ago in her face. She was the one afraid of winding up alone and eating microwave meals-for-one her whole life. Not me. Never me.

My goal has always been to find an exciting, independent man—one who’s a great lover and wants nothing emotional from me in return. I gaze out the window of our favorite coffee shop, staring at the pelting rain washing the city streets. Maybe my relaxed attitude would be better suited in Europe. Seems like the Puritanical ideals of America are still going strong, no matter how much women struggle with equality. If I were a guy no one would bat an eye at my desire for a lover with no emotional attachments weighing us down.

An exciting man who’s good in bed. That’s not too much to ask is it? We’re in “the city that never sleeps” for crying out loud. There’s got to be a few guys who learned something in the sack since college, right? Maybe I can find one who isn’t emotionally scarred from a long-term relationship and where the woman taught him a thing or two. That would be hitting the relationship lottery in my book.

Don’t forget good looking, great body, successful career, a big dick…

Yeah, a girl can dream, right?

Aware I need to get back to work, I glance at my watch then gather the remains of my meal. We say our goodbyes and I race into the rain, pulling up the hood on my stylish raincoat for the three-block trek to the office.

Heather likes to forget—I’m not like her. I’ve always known what I want in my life and in my bed. She and Tony met at the exact time she was ready to blossom. My sexuality bloomed a long time ago and I quickly became disappointed with the unknowledgeable lovers I invited into my bed. Hell, when the first few trysts were a let down, why go back for more?

It’s pretty sad, really. They all appeared to be so promising during our initial dates.

Despite Heather’s list making me sound like a “good-time girl,” a phrase I hear a lot from my mom, I actually practice a lot of decorum when choosing a lover. They all have ambitious careers, their own apartments, aren’t married, and know how to treat a lady with manners. I don’t have a set laundry list of physical attributes the guy has to have, but I do want a man who cares enough about his health and appearance to not be slovenly or obese.

Unlike Heather, I never sit on the sidelines waiting for life to come to me—I actively seek adventure and always will. Who says a woman needs a man to be happy? I’m happy as I am on my own. And I intend to keep it that way—not hung up on a guy like my mom was with my dad. When he left us, she was devastated and it changed her outlook on life forever.

Avoiding large puddles and dangerous sidewalk grating, I wish I would’ve changed out of my heels before dashing off to meet Heather. A short woman like me learns the benefit of being on equal eye level in the advertising world. Doesn’t hurt that I look great in them, too.

The awning to my building appears and I gratefully step under it and push back my hood. I unzip the coat and flap the sides, knocking off moisture before entering.

“Hey, Carla,” a masculine voice calls from the doorway.

I look up to see one of the company accountants holding the door for me. “Thanks, Andrew.” I step through, avoiding eye contact with him.

He’s tried to make casual conversation with me for months, and I’m always polite but careful not to lead him on. I mean really, he’s an accountant. Could a job be more unexciting? Just stick him in an IT position and buy him a ticket to the next Trekkie convention in town.

One thing I’ve learned while shopping for an exciting man—I won’t find one in a humdrum job like his. I’m not saying Andrew is boring, he seems nice enough. But his job sure as hell is unexciting, which decreases his chances of being a stimulating guy by eighty percent.

While we walk across the lobby to the elevators, I sense him fidgeting beside me, perhaps too nervous to talk. I smother a smile at his awkwardness. Honestly, he’s not bad looking—no beer gut and he dresses okay. Maybe I should hook him up with Katrina from yoga class. She’s been on the prowl for a decent man.

He clears his throat as we step into the elevator. “Do you have time later to talk about the Stringer account?”

My ears perk at the mention of my largest client. “Of course. Is something wrong?”

The doors whisk closed and we ascend to our floor. “No, nothing’s wrong. I was looking over the latest numbers and think I’ve found a way to free up some advertising money in their budget that isn’t working where it is now. Might help you up-sell them to a larger ad space in the areas that are working.”

“Sounds good.” I smile, the first genuine one to grace my face since I met Heather for lunch. “Your cubicle or mine?”

His blue eyes crinkle at the corners as he returns my smile. “Come to mine, I’ll show you the spreadsheets.”

Hours later I hang up the phone with Jennifer Stringer, the owner of the largest independently owned fabric distributor in the legendary New York garment district. She was thrilled with Andrew’s findings and eager to pour fifty thousand more into the current advertising campaign. We helped to increase her business twenty percent in the last three months. Satisfaction for a job well done warms me, filling me with a sense of completeness like no encounter with a man ever has.

A sigh escapes as I relax into my chair. Damn, talk about a long week. It’s Friday and after five. I stifle the urge to chant TGIF and log off my computer, eager to shake the stresses of the week from my shoulders.

IMs flew around the office ten minutes ago and people are gearing up to meet at the bar down the block for drinks. I freshen my lipstick, straighten my desk, and grab my bag. Andrew stands the same moment I do and our eyes meet across the cubical walls. “Are you going tonight?” I ask him.

Interest lights his eyes. “Yup.”

He runs a hand through his short brown hair, the gesture making him appear more confident. Too bad he’s boring, he’s almost handsome. “Great, I owe you a drink for that tidbit you shared after lunch.”

A small smile turns up his mouth as he walks down the opposite aisle toward the door. “Just one? Could have sworn my ‘tidbit’ helped you make your monthly quota a week early.”

I laugh at his ballsiness. “Maybe I’ll buy you two. But don’t get your hopes up.”

A spark ignites in his blue depths as his gaze travels up and down my length. An awareness tingles through me and I can’t deny, he looks different, somehow. He’s only a few inches taller than I am in heels, which makes him a couple of inches shy of six-foot. His shirtsleeves are rolled up to reveal corded forearms with a light dusting of hair. With warm heat banked in his gaze, his average looks jump a thousand points.

I brush off the sudden interest spiking in my gut. I can’t let an office romance begin to brew. I told Heather I wasn’t doing any of the things she accused me of. No matter how much I might wish otherwise, I highly doubt a co-worker with benefits is much different than the friends with benefits on her sheet.

As a large boisterous group of our co-workers join us in the elevator, I resolve to steer clear of any temptation offered by Andrew at the bar. No way in the world could he be a good match for me.

~*~*Welcome Tracy Cooper-Posey~*~*



Tracy is giving away the following prized when the tour ends:
Grand Prize: $30 Amazon GC
2nd Prize: $15 Amazon GC
3rd Prize: a signed paper set of Kiss Across Time (North America) or an eBook set if international winner.
Runners-up: 6 runners up will receive eBook sets of Kiss Across Time.

a Rafflecopter giveaway


Kiss Across Time, Book 1
Genre: Time travel, MMF ménage romance, contemporary and historical settings
Format: eBook and print
Short novel length
Available at Amazon: Amazon Kindle | Amazon Print

*KISS ACROSS TIME will be FREE from July 24 – 28 for Kindle*Pageflex Persona [document: PRS0000026_00025]

A single kiss can change more than one life…or two.
Taylor Yates is fired for insisting the Fifth Century Arthurian poet, Inigo Domhnall, existed. When she hears Domhnall’s lyrics in a death metal song, she engineers a meeting with lead singer, Brody Gallagher. An unintended kiss sends them spinning back to the poet’s time, when Saxons were pillaging King Arthur’s Britain.
Brody’s all for kissing her again. More, he wants her to kiss his friend and lover, Veris, to see what will happen. When Veris’ kiss sends them back to the time of the Vikings neither man is willing to let Taylor simply walk out of their lives.
But Brody and Veris are more than lovers and sexual playmates, as Taylor learns when they investigate the kisses that send them across time. The secrets they share have the power to completely alter her life.

Pageflex Persona [document: PRS0000026_00025]KISS ACROSS SWORDS
Kiss Across Time, Book 2
Genre: Time travel, MMF ménage romance, contemporary and historical settings
Format: eBook and print
Short novel length
Available at:
Amazon US | Amazon US Print | Amazon UK | Amazon UK Print | Smashwords | Kobo | All Romance eBooks | B&N Print

Taylor Yates never dreamed growing up she would end up happily living with two drop-dead sexy vampires and time-hopping through their thousand years of personal history. Her life is complete…or is it?
When she finds herself at the seige of Jerusalem during the first crusade, Veris doesn’t know her at all and doesn’t want to. Worst of all, he and Brody are total strangers, and Taylor drives a wedge in deep between them by trying to seduce Veris at their first meeting—not something a lady of the day does if she wants to keep her head.
Taylor and Brody must woo Veris using the customs of medieval England, win his heart and his full commitment before Jerusalem falls in four days time—or when they return to their own time, their lives as they know them will be gone…

KISS ACROSS CHAINSPageflex Persona [document: PRS0000026_00025]
Kiss Across Time, Book 3
Genre: Time travel, MMF ménage romance, contemporary and historical settings
Format: eBook and print
Short novel length
Available July 1, 2013:
Amazon US | Amazon UK | All Romance eBooks | Kobo | Smashwords

It is four years since Taylor and Brody almost lost Veris during the First Crusade. Now they know how to control time jumps, they have settled into a very nearly perfect, nearly human life, raising their daughter Marit.
When Brody defies Queen Tira to protect Marit, the three of them jump back three days in time to collect evidence the queen set up Brody for a drug bust in retribution. The jump sends them back to Brody’s personal nightmare: Fifth century Constantinople.
While Brody survives as a flogged slave, Taylor masquerades as the wife of an aristocrat and searches for Brody to release him. They must wait for Veris to find them before jumping home and Taylor watches each brutal chariot race, wondering if this will be Brody’s last. Brody once died in the Hippodrome and he is human this time, too….

Tracy Cooper-Posey is an Amazon #1 Best Selling Author. She writes erotic vampire romances, hot romantic suspense, paranormal and urban fantasy romances. She has published over 50 novels since 1999, been nominated for five CAPAs including Favourite Author, and won the Emma Darcy Award.

She turned to indie publishing in 2011. Her indie titles have been nominated four times for Book Of The Year and Byzantine Heartbreak was a 2012 winner. She has been a national magazine editor and for a decade she taught romance writing at MacEwan University.

She is addicted to Irish Breakfast tea and chocolate, sometimes taken together. In her spare time she enjoys history, Sherlock Holmes, science fiction and ignoring her treadmill. An Australian, she lives in Edmonton, Canada with her husband, a former professional wrestler, where she moved in 1996 after meeting him on-line.

Catch up with Tracy at her:
website | Amazon | All Romance eBooks | Smashwords | Kobo | Facebook | Twitter.

Tracy Cooper-Posey’s KISS ACROSS CHAINS Tour Schedule
July 1 – July 31

7/01- Book Monster Reviews (Guest Post)

7/02- Close Encounters with the Night Kind (Guest Post)

7/03 – Romance Junkies (interview)

7/04 – Toot’s Book Reviews (series spotlight)

7/05- You Gotta Read Reviews (interview)

7/06- Riverina Romantics ( guest post)

7/08- Book Lovin’ Mamas (guest post & series spotlight)

7/09- Brynna Curry’s In Shadows Blog (series spotlight)

7/10- Night Owl Reviews (series spotlight & giveaway)

7/10 – Book Pages & Dripping Ink (series spotlight)

7/11- I Smell Sheep (guest post)

7/12- Curse of the Bibliophile (interview)

7/14- Literal Hotties Naughty Book Reviews (series spotlight + reviews)

7/15- The Next Chapter (interview and series spotlight) + reviews

7/16- United by Books (series spotlight)

7/17- Romancing the Book (series spotlight + reviews)

7/19- Celestial Reviews (series spotlight) + reviews

7/20- The Reading Café (series spotlight + reviews)

7/21-Offbeat Vagabond (guest post) review later

7/22- Literal Addiction (guest post + series spotlight)

7/22 – Page Flipperz (series spotlight)

7/23- Vampires, Werewolves &Fairies Oh My! (Guest post) reviews

7/24- Cocktails & Books (series spotlight)

7/25- Wicked Readings by Tawania (series spotlight & reviews)

7/26- Mad Hatter Reads (interview)

7/26 – Coffee & Characters (series spotlight)

7/27- Smoldering Heat (guest post)

7/27 – Tiffy-Fit’s Reading Corner (series spotlight + reviews)

7/28- Mimmi’s Musings (series spotlight)

7/29-GraveTells (guest post)

7/30- Salacious Reads (series spotlight)

7/30 – My Secret Romance (series spotlight + reviews)

7/31- Fandom Fanatic (series spotlight) and reviews







Where Did All The
Long-Haired Heroes Go?

While short hair for men is the fashion right now in the early half of the twenty-first century, I can’t help but bewail the diminishing numbers of heroes with long hair.

When did it stop being sexy?

In Romanceland, heroes throughout history and into the realms of the paranormal have enjoyed long locks for decades. They adorned covers and posters for years and years after more-than-collar-length became old fashioned in the real world.

There are some historical periods where long hair was the norm: Scotland, throughout its wars of independence, the Regency period, when a man tied his hair back in a queue, and most of the 17th, 18th and 19th century.

There are many more, but these are the most popular historical romance periods with the exception of medieval England…but even there, a long-haired hero wasn’t completely out of place. It was only knights with their restrictive helmets who regularly chopped their locks.

In fact, one of my medieval romance books, Heart of Vengeance, was first published with a hero on the cover with long hair, even though he has shorn hair in the story (he’s a knight as well as a lord). But that first edition was in the late nineties, when long hair on romance heroes was common, even desirable…

If you head back even further into British history you bump up against Roman Britain. While the Romans certainly favoured well-trimmed pates, the tribes they warred against did not.

The Anglo Saxons who invaded Britain once the Romans pulled back to Rome were also proponents of long hair.

Then you can slide into the fantasy realm, where long hair on a hero is almost mandatory.

And yet, and yet…

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Have you noticed, lately, that if the cover features the hero at all (which is becoming more common in some romance genres – like urban fantasy romance), then often, his head is cut off by the top edge of the book, or the title, which means you can’t see if he has long hair or not.
Just as often, if you can see his head, the hair is neatly trimmed regardless of the genre or era the book is set in.

It’s as if Romanceland wants to have its cake and eat it, too. Is it that cover designers, publishers and marketing people are afraid that the cover will look…old fashioned? Even some of the romances I have read lately that are set in eras or locales where long hair would be perfectly natural on a hero, the book gives him short hair (sometimes without reason), or fails to focus on the length of his hair at all, as if it is easier to simply not acknowledge his full appearance than risk putting off a more modern-oriented reader.

Personally, I think covers and books should describe a hero as he would have been back then, or in that fantasy world, rather than trying to insert a hero of modern and fashionable appearance in our real world into the mind of the reader.

It’s just a bit of a cop-out, don’t you think? Or would you find it awkward to read about a hero with long hair, even if it is appropriate to the period?



Author Spotlight–Sarah Makela



Surrendered Banner 450 x 169






Titania’s Court, Book 4


Sarah Mäkelä




Genre: Erotic Fantasy Romance




Publisher: Total-e-Bound Publishing


Date of Publication: July 12, 2013




ISBN: 978-1-78184-376-5






Number of pages: 47




Cover Artist: Posh Gosh




Total E Bound




Book Description:




A mercenary who skirts light and dark must protect a reclusive Seelie noblewoman, but when they discover a common link, they must surrender…




Niamh McNamara has always been a little different from the rest of the Seelie Court. Their natural mirth and playfulness is something she has to force, so she won’t stand out much during the midsummer’s festivities. That becomes nearly impossible when an attempt is made on her life by a violent masked fae. Content with seclusion, she’s unhappy when the queen requests her back at court to meet her new bodyguard.




Doyle Kearney is mercenary who skirts the light and dark courts. Some think he’s Unseelie, while others are sure he’s Seelie. When Queen Titania brings him to protect a sullen noble, he almost refuses—he’s a warrior, not a bodyguard—until he sees Niamh. His body reacts to the golden goddess, but he can’t forget how his noble parents had easily tossed him aside to protect their titles. He questions if she’ll do the same if he surrenders his heart.




Short Excerpt:




Summer’s warm magic glittered in the night air. Nature drank deep of it and flourished with life and growth. The delightful party playing out around Niamh McNamara didn’t interest her one bit. As a member of the light court, she should’ve enjoyed the merry festivities that Midsummer’s Eve brought on, but her sour mood wouldn’t let go of her. Then again, she’d never been like the rest of her people.




Darkness constantly ached within her chest beneath her golden appearance. Before she’d been able to ignore it, but now it wasn’t so easy, especially after overhearing whispers about her from the other members of court. Hiding away had helped, but she couldn’t always stay hidden.




Queen Titania had requested her presence back at court for a while, and when the queen asked, one didn’t say no. The queen held a special interest in seeing Niamh, as a female noble, commit to a worthy relationship. At Niamh’s age, she should’ve at least had one potential suitor, yet she did her best to avoid them and had been fairly successful.




Niamh took another sip from her goblet. The faeries around her sang, laughed and danced, yet she could barely gather the enthusiasm to smile. How cruel life was that she had to watch their happiness while she didn’t share their feelings.




There were men who seemed determined to court her. The more she dissuaded them, the more eagerly they flocked to her. A familiar male elf took her elbow to sweep her off to dance, but she brushed off his hand. “Sorry, I’m not interested in dancing at the moment.”




Another reason why she preferred to stay away from court these days. She hated presumptuousness and what tended to happen next.




His face fell, and confusion creased his brow. The lady next to Niamh gawked at her like she was crazy before grabbing the male’s hand and waltzing away with him. The lady leaned close to him and whispered something, causing them to both break out into laughter.




Niamh bristled. She didn’t want to feel like an outsider amongst her own people.




A happy, albeit drunken, pixie flew by her, nearly colliding with her shoulder. The tiny being apologised in a high-pitched tinkling voice, then it was gone, darting away to join a group of pixies near the mead.




Most of the pixies there had already drunk their share. Their amorous personalities, combined with the summer’s fertility magic, heated the group until their moans of pleasure chimed through the warm breeze. Others nearby reacted to the intimacy, their clothes slipping off in their fervour.




Yet another sign of how nature’s power innately affected the Seelie.




The group she stood with were still chatting merrily amongst themselves, though their attention was beginning to drift to the playful fledgling orgy.




Niamh slipped away into the forest, making sure no one saw her. She needed a break from the laughter and shallow niceties. Her face ached from the plastic smile she wore for the party. Once safely out of view, she leaned against a tree and let out a ragged breath. Her fake smile fell, and she stared into the sky between the leaves. If only she were home, away from the misery of joy she had to force. Warmth and happiness permeated the air around her, but a part buried within her retracted from those emotions, shying away from the silky caress. Most of the time, she wondered if she had something wrong with her. Darkness held solace for her while light made her aware of what she lacked.




The snap of a branch startled her, and she peeked around the tree. No one was there. Thoughts about her inner darkness dissipated. Her shoulders tensed, and she strained her ears to hear more signs of movement. Another twig snapped behind her, and she nearly jumped out of her skin.




Before her stood a man in an elaborately decorated mask, which covered most of his face. A dark hood and cape cloaked the rest of him, making it impossible to distinguish any of his features. He was most definitely fae like her—he had that kind of aura. He must’ve hidden his wings beneath his grand cape.




She looked him over with a frown. Why was he here, away from the party? Especially dressed as he was? I left the party behind to rest, not to give someone the opportunity to make my acquaintance in private. She sighed but forced herself to smile.




A scream caught her attention from the party, turning her towards the sound, but the laughter that followed reassured her that everything was still safe.




The foreboding man spun her to face him. He clasped his hands around her throat, and slammed her folded wings back against the tree. Her head bounced against the hard oak. She clawed at his glove-covered hands, trying to get him off her, trying to draw air into her lungs.




He smashed her against the tree again, but his grip slipped slightly.




“What do you want?” she squeaked, gulping in air.




“You. That’s what I wanted.”




She’d never heard this man’s voice before. How could he want her while she couldn’t figure out who he was? He must’ve used glamour so she wouldn’t recognise him.
















About the Author:




Sarah Mäkelä lives in North Carolina with her husband and cats. When she’s not writing, she enjoys reading, computer and video games, and travelling all over the world. She is a member of Romance Writers of America, as well as the Heart of Carolina Romance Writers and the Fantasy, Futuristic, and Paranormal chapters.




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~*~*Welcome Ann Gimpel~*~*




Alices Alpha Button 300 x 225











Elements of Great Storytelling

I’ve thought about this a lot lately since I ran into a spate of uninspired books, both on my Kindle and in Books on CD. I will say, though, that in the latter format, a gifted actor reading an audiobook can make even a mediocre story come to life and can gloss over awkward grammatical constructions so they aren’t quite as noticeable.

How about if we start with characters? It goes without saying they need to be three dimensional, which means they have thoughts, feelings, and actions that are congruent with their personalities. In my opinion, if a book doesn’t have characters that reach out and grab your heartstrings, then it’s DOA. It can have the most inspired plot in the world, but it’s wasted if readers don’t care about the characters.

Alrighty, so we have decent characters. Maybe not great characters, but they’re good enough you want to pick up the book to see what they’re going to do next. Plot determines the next moves in a book. Plot is basically the story that the book tells, but it’s how we get from point A to point B that weeds out talented writers from the rest of the pack. Brilliant plotting is tightly woven and the writer’s hand is all but invisible. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve been somewhere in a book and something happens that just screams “convenient plot twist.” As an aside, this is why all writers need someone—crit partners, publishers, editors—to be a fresh pair of eyes. No matter how seasoned a writer is, he (or she) can’t see the foibles in his own writing. Not all of them, anyway. Another plotting issue is plot threads that go nowhere. They look intriguing, but the writer just never gets back to them.

A corollary of plotting is pace and tension. The plot has to move fast enough to draw a reader along, yet not so fast as to lose them. Writers accomplish this by inserting pacing into the plot and building/releasing tension. Of course certain genres, like horror, have a whole lot more tension than most romances. But even romances—the good ones—have a big, dark moment when it seems like the hero and heroine will never be able to bridge the gap between them. This introduces tension and draws readers into turning pages to see what’s going to happen next.

I think I’m probably like most writers in that I write the same type of fiction I like to read. For me, it’s fast paced, with strong characters that collide with one another. Lots of passion. Lots of angst. Big, dark moments that are really big and truly dark. In a lot of ways, writing isn’t so different from being a psychologist. Not everyone will like what I write. I don’t expect them to. Not everyone likes Stephen King, or any of the really big names of our time. Likewise, I always told my patients that the first couple of sessions were “getting to know one another,” and seeing if we were a good match. Just like I’m not the right author for everyone, neither was I the right therapist. That’s just common sense, really.

What sings to you in books you read? Why do you adore your favorite author? If you had to pick great characters versus great plot, which would it be?


Alice’s Alpha

By Ann Gimpel


Publisher: Liquid Silver Books



Release Date: 7/1/13

35,000 words


Genre: Paranormal Romance/ Spicy hot shifter ménage story


Book Description:


Snared by the shifter mate bond, Alice’s carefully tended wasteland of a heart cracks wide open.


It’s 1936. Thirty-year-old Alice has almost given up finding a man. Between civil engineering and mountain climbing, her interests are so masculine she scares men away. A poor route choice lands her next to horror movie star Lon Chaney’s cabin deep in the Sierra Nevada Mountains. She’s wary when Jed, a strikingly handsome man, offers her shelter.


By the time she discovers he’s clan leader for a pack of wolf shifters, she’s in way too deep to back out. Her carefully tended wasteland of a heart cracks wide open and all her preconceived notions shatter. Snared by the mate bond, Alice discovers passion hot enough to change her forever. She’s just getting used to Jed when his clan brothers show up, and she discovers she’s mated to all three.














…Alice sputtered. The stranger had just accused her of shoving Brent over a cliff. “How dare you?” she cried. Her face heated from more than the fire. She balled her hands into fists at her sides.

“Well.” He cocked his head to one side. “I wasn’t there. You’re on your feet, and he isn’t. What is he, your husband?”

She gritted her teeth. “No.”

“What then? Brother, cousin—”

“He’s just a friend and it’s really none of your business. If you’ll unlock the door, I’ll take my chances with the mountain lions.” Alice grabbed her lantern and her pack and strode toward the door, eying the windows as possible escape routes. They could work. She’d have to unlatch the wooden shutters, but still… “You can have my ice ax. I don’t need it anymore.”

He shot her a blinding smile. His eyes glowed like exotic gemstones. She blinked. Alice had never seen such a gorgeous man. Red-gold hair fell to his shoulders. His face was more than handsome. He had a high, broad forehead and sharply cast cheekbones. His teeth were very white and very straight. What would it feel like to run her fingers through that wonderful hair, to stroke his tanned skin?

She shook herself mentally. I have to get out of here. Alice covered the remaining distance to the door and rattled the knob. “Let me out. It’s against the law to hold people against their will.”

“You’re being hasty. I apologize for suggesting you injured your friend. Please,” he gestured toward a carved wooden sofa with colorful cushions in front of the fireplace, “I’m not being a very good host. Have a seat. Let me get you a drink.”

“I don’t think so.” She curled her fingers around her pack straps. A spicy, exotic scent filled her nostrils. It seemed to be coming from him. A cross between bay rum and musk made her nose twitch. Alice tried to cling to fear and outrage, but felt them slipping away. She took a step closer to him before she realized what she was doing. Her gaze fixated on his lips. She wanted to feel them pressed against hers, needed to lose herself in his arms.

What’s wrong with me? How could I be so attracted to him? She struggled to regain her equanimity, but her body had other ideas. Her gaze swept lower. When she realized she was staring at his crotch, she got hold of herself. Heat flooded her face. She hoped he hadn’t noticed the direction of her gaze.

“Please,” he repeated and extended a hand, “I don’t even know your name. Like I said, I haven’t been much of a host.”

Alice swallowed hard. It didn’t make sense, but she wanted to run into his arms and wrap hers around his lithe frame to see what it would feel like right up against her. Her nipples hardened again, and her breath caught in her throat. It was like he was making love to her from ten feet away. For one wild moment, she wanted to strip her clothes off and…

“Here.” He walked to her and pried her pack and lantern out of her hands. She tried to hang onto them, but her fingers wouldn’t cooperate. Close like that, his lush scent surrounded her. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. Christ! For the first time she understood the phrase “It smelled good enough to eat.” To her horror, Alice’s lips parted and turned upward, as if she were waiting for a lover to kiss her. What the hell is happening to me?

She shook her head hard and took a couple steps away from him and her pack. She couldn’t think. Hell, she could barely breathe. Her crotch was wet; it throbbed with need.

“Your name?” He set her pack next to a chair and moved to her side.

“Alice.” Her throat was thick. It was hard to talk.

He tugged her wet jacket off her shoulders and draped it over a chair. “Well, Alice, how about if you sit by the fire and I’ll bring you something to drink. Food, too, if you want. Your boots look pretty wet. Maybe you’d like to take them off.”

She tried to tell him that no, she needed to leave, but the words wouldn’t come. There was a part of her—the wise part—that wanted to run like hell. The rest of her couldn’t have left if someone lit a firecracker under her ass. She breathed in his scent. It was like a balm, heating her nerve endings and soothing her fears at the same time.

She watched his graceful form move to the kitchen alcove. He had a high, tight ass and long legs. She wondered again what his skin would feel like beneath her fingers. Alice caught a glimpse of herself in a mirror mounted to one side of the fireplace. Spots of color rode high on both cheeks. Her eyes glowed. Her nipples were fully visible pressed against the fabric of her wool shirt, and so were the curves of her breasts. She bit her lower lip and chastised herself for not wearing a bra. She’d hoped Brent might get … ideas if he could see more of her body. Except she flaunted it right and left, and he never did. And now here she was with a stranger—

Am I so desperate I don’t care anymore, just so long as someone has sex with me? It didn’t feel like that, though. Not really. It was more like she’d known Jed in some other lifetime and had some sort of bond to him. Alice rolled her eyes. I’m being ridiculous. It’s just nerves and exhaustion catching up.

“Here you go, sweetheart.” He pressed a glass into her hand and set a plate on the coffee table near the fireplace. “Come on. Sit. You must be exhausted.”

Alice sat, but it was because her legs didn’t want to hold her up anymore. To her surprise, he knelt and unlaced her boots. Once both layers were loosened, he tugged first one and then the other off. “Just as I thought,” he murmured. “Your socks are soaked.” He stripped them gently off her feet and hung them over the table’s edge nearest the fire.

It did feel good to get her heavy boots off. Alice wriggled her toes. They were cold. Almost as if Jed could read her thoughts, he rubbed her feet between remarkably warm hands. Her body sank back against the cushions. She took a sip of whiskey; it burned all the way to her stomach. She followed it with another. Her free hand moved with a will of its own. She yanked it back before it buried itself in Jed’s shiny hair.

He pushed back on his heels and rose in a single, fluid motion. In moments he was back, kneeling by her feet. He wrapped a warm towel around them. She moaned softly. “Where’d you get that? Surely you don’t have electricity all the way out here.”

He laughed. “It was on a hook by the fireplace. The fire warms the stones so anything hanging next to them gets toasty.” His blue gaze latched onto hers. “Relax. Everything will be all right. Have a bit more whiskey. It’s from Ireland and more than twenty-five years old. There’s bread and cheese on the table.” He winked at her, a slow, lascivious wink, which made her heart beat faster. “Let me spoil you a little.”

“I really shouldn’t.” Her words lacked conviction. She knew it. Worse, so did he.

He rubbed her feet through the towel and then wrapped it around one while taking the other in his hands. He massaged her weary arches and the ball of her foot with knowing fingers. “Do you always do what you should?”

The sexual innuendo was unmistakable. Her swollen pussy lips and clit thrummed with tension. She took another sip of whiskey, letting it roll around on her tongue. It was rich and oaky, like liquid gold. “Usually.”

“What’s that saying? Good girls never have any fun.” His fingers worked her toes, and then shifted to the top of her foot and her ankle.

“I climb mountains. Most girls don’t do that.” Her head buzzed pleasantly from the liquor. I should eat something. If I don’t, I’ll be drunk in no time. Alice leaned forward and took a slice of cheese from the blue earthenware plate on the table in front of her. She wrapped a piece of bread around it and took a bite. The bread was flaky and fresh. It tasted homemade.

The longer he worked on her feet, the more she wanted him. Alice was mystified. She’d masturbated her lust away before, but what was happening to her now was in a whole different league. She’d never felt she’d die if she didn’t come. It didn’t take much to imagine those strong hands moving up her calves, settling between her legs, and… Her hips twitched. She covered the involuntary motion by shifting her position on the couch.

“I was talking about fun, not mountaineering.” He rubbed the spaces between her toes with gentle strokes.

“But they’re the same.” Her face heated again. The special place deep inside her ached to be filled. She wished she knew more about sex. It just wasn’t the sort of thing people ever talked about, though. She’d hunted down medical texts in the library, but they hadn’t been terribly helpful, other than giving her names for intimate body parts.

“There’s more than one way to have fun.” Jed wrapped the foot he’d been working on in the towel and switched to the other. “Is it still warm enough, sweetheart? Would you like me to get another?”

“No, really, I’m fine.” Alice was flustered—and so aroused she couldn’t think. She rubbed her thighs together. Maybe there’d be some way she could sneak off to the privy. Her head would be clearer if she made herself come. She drank some more whiskey. Between that and his suggestive comments about good girls and fun, the sensitive nub between her legs throbbed mercilessly.

She settled into the feel of his hands on her flesh. Her feet really were tired. The heavy, two-layer mountaineering boots didn’t have much give to them. They were made by a German manufacturer, and the standing joke in the climbing community was you had to adapt to them because they’d never bow to you. The next time she raised her glass, she was surprised to find it was empty. Alice set it on the table and leaned back against the cushions.

“Would you like more?” His voice was rich and smooth, just like the whiskey.

She shook her head. “I’ve probably had more than enough. I—” Alice stifled a gasp. He’d bent his head and taken her big toe in his mouth. He sucked gently, and then ran his tongue down the underside of her foot. Her hips writhed against the sofa cushions. His mouth moved to her second toe and he sucked harder. He ran a nail down the underside of her foot, and then did it again.

Heat roared through Alice. Her arousal from moments before was nothing compared with what was happening to her now. Her thighs fell open. Fingers moved between her legs. Momentarily confused, she was horrified to discover she’d jammed a hand atop her vulva and was rubbing her clit through layers of pants. She tried to drag her hand away, but her body had other ideas. It wanted to come. Had to have release or she’d die.

Her face heated with lust and humiliation. She glanced at him. One of his hands was buried in his crotch. The swell of an erection tantalized her and made her even hotter. He must have sensed her gaze on him because he raised his face from her foot. “Just let it happen, sweetheart,” he murmured, voice raspy with passion. “We needed to start somewhere. If you were any closer to coming, you’d be there. Go on, rub yourself. Or,” something feral and untamed blazed from the depths of his blue eyes, “I can do it for you.”







About the Author

Short Bio:


Ann Gimpel is a clinical psychologist, with a Jungian bent.  Avocations include mountaineering, skiing, wilderness photography and, of course, writing.  A lifelong aficionado of the unusual, she began writing speculative fiction a few years ago. Since then her short fiction has appeared in a number of webzines and anthologies. Several paranormal romance novellas are available in e-format. Three novels, Psyche’s Prophecy, Psyche’s Search, and Psyche’s Promise are small press publications available in e-format and paperback. Look for two more urban fantasy novels coming this summer and fall: Fortune’s Scion and Earth’s Requiem.


A husband, grown children, grandchildren and three wolf hybrids round out her family.

@AnnGimpel (for Twitter)


 Long Bio: 


Ann Gimpel is a mountaineer at heart. Recently retired from a long career as a psychologist, she remembers many hours at her desk where her body may have been stuck inside four walls, but her soul was planning yet one more trip to the backcountry. Around the turn of the last century (that would be 2000, not 1900!), she managed to finagle moving to the Eastern Sierra, a mecca for those in love with the mountains. It was during long backcountry treks that Ann’s writing evolved. Unlike some who see the backcountry as an excuse to drag friends and relatives along, Ann prefers her solitude. Stories always ran around in her head on those journeys, sometimes as a hedge against abject terror when challenging conditions made her fear for her life, sometimes for company. Eventually, she returned from a trip and sat down at the computer. Three months later, a five hundred page novel emerged. Oh, it wasn’t very good, but it was a beginning. And, she learned a lot between writing that novel and its sequel.


Around that time, a friend of hers suggested she try her hand at short stories. It didn’t take long before that first story found its way into print and they’ve been accepted pretty regularly since then. One of Ann’s passions has always been ecology, so her tales often have a green twist.


In addition to writing, Ann enjoys wilderness photography. She lugs pounds of camera equipment in her backpack to distant locales every year. A standing joke is that over ten percent of her pack weight is camera gear which means someone else has to carry the food! That someone is her husband. They’ve shared a life together for a very long time. Children, grandchildren and three wolf hybrids round out their family.


Welcome Natalie Gayle!

natalie (2)

Excerpt of Finding Judgement by Natalie Gayle

TJ Walsh looked to the left, and then the right, before releasing the clutch while gently depressing the accelerator. The big old Kenworth bonneted prime mover growled as it launched forward. Once the front left tyre was almost at the edge of the road, she palmed the wheel and spun it to the right with everything her small frame had. The engine roared, looking for another gear. She tapped the clutch to disengage, slipped the gear stick into neutral, and then tapped the clutch again to slide the shifter into a higher gear.

The beast rumbled forward, picking up speed; she started to straighten the wheel as she watched the long milk tanker behind her clear the gate posts. It was an intricate dance: one hand on the gear stick, one on the massive steering wheel, both feet on the pedals, one eye on the mirror, and the other on the road.

She shifted twelve times and swapped to a higher deck before she coaxed the big prime mover and trailer up to seventy kilometres an hour. The road was far from great; it was a narrow country road. The type you had to put half your vehicle into the rough when another car passed.
It was just on dark and she was running late. There’d been a problem with the pump at the dairy for moving the milk from the various tanks. So what should have taken about thirty minutes had taken the better part of two hours.

TJ needed to get home. Her mum was not good. Not good at all. She was in the middle of yet another bout of chemo and her younger brother and sister needed some direction. TJ placed a quick call and let them know she was running a couple of hours late. She tried to be around as much as possible to help out. Not just around the house but as an adult figure. Even though she was barely twenty-four herself, sometimes she felt closer to forty.
Her mother, Rosemary, had been battling breast cancer on and off for the last eight years. The doctors were hopeful they had it all this time but they’d said that at least twice before. There were never any guarantees with cancer.

She let out a huge sigh as she settled in to navigate the roads, shifting up or down two or three gears as the terrain dictated. She was rolling across the Numinbah Valley floor, heading back into the outskirts of Brisbane to drop off the milk her tanker contained.
Oh, how life can throw curve balls, she thought. Just over two and a half years ago, she’d been about to finish up her degree in physiotherapy. Then her father and eldest brother had been killed in a truck accident. They’d been driving two-up on a long haul between Adelaide and Brisbane, close to three thousand kilometres each way.

Her father had been driving and the coroner’s report said he’d been under the influence of amphetamines. She knew in her heart this was total rubbish because there was no reason for her father to have taken the drug. That’s why Alan was with him—to share the driving.
Something didn’t add up but there was no way she could prove it.

You can read Rory and TJ’s story, Finding Judgement for yourself at:

Book Blurb—Finding Judgement

Rory Southall’s dreams have been haunted by the beautiful blonde pixie he’d helped three months ago. Imagine his surprise when his next assignment is to investigate none other than the very same woman.

TJ Walsh is holding on to her family’s trucking company by a thread. For the last two and a half years, she’s been trying to keep the debt-ridden business afloat and her family fed. She’s driven and desperate to make ends meet. But she remembers every detail of a chance meeting three months ago with a handsome stranger.

What happens when a simple supply chain investigation morphs into a deadly web of lies and deceit and TJ finds herself squarely in the middle of it? It seems that very same handsome stranger has rescued her again, but how could that be? And how exactly does the illegal genetically modified products he’s investigating have anything to do with her?

How will she cope with knowing the danger is much closer to home than she thought? When everyone seems to be gunning for them, can she find love and salvation with Rory before it’s too late?

About the Author

I recently discovered those school vocational assessments are really interesting and probably correct! Who would have thought hey? You see I clearly remember taking one of those in Year 11 (for my US friends I think that equates to junior year in high school). Anyway semantics. Well the results came back indicating that I should pursue a career in writing and something else. What that something else was I can’t remember but the writing thing stuck in my mind.
Sure I’d always liked English and had already developed a ravenous appetite for romance novels by the age of sixteen – but who becomes a writer straight out of school? So to cut a long story short I went to Uni and studied Business and ended up managing large scale IT projects shortly after.
I can’t complain it’s been a great career and I’ve done some awesome projects and meet some incredible people and I won’t be giving it up anytime soon. Anyway I’ve messed around with a couple of “secret” novels over the years and I finally decided to get serious and finish one. Hence “Finding Trust” came about. And about twenty years later I’ve finally proved a vocational assessment correct, because I love writing!
As to some other stuff about me, I live on the Gold Coast, Australia. I love spending time with my family and friends. When I’m not sitting behind a screen playing with IT or writing you might find me down the beach playing in the waves on a jet ski or a bogey board (both are uber cool). When the weather turns a bit cooler (doesn’t really happen on the Gold Coast), we like to head for the snow. I’ve discovered I have two kids that are kamikaze skiers – they must take after their father. He’s always at me to “release the handbrake.” Apparently I’d ski so much better. I call it a healthy understanding of self-preservation and gravity!
I like to think I can fit in a few workouts and martial arts classes each week. This tends to be a figment of my imagination more than reality unfortunately. I am trying to remedy this, but those damn characters just keep demanding to have their stories told and well – there’s always another good book to read!
I hope you enjoy mine.
Please drop me a line I’m active on FaceBook, Twitter and of course here! I’d love to know what you think of my books and well let’s be truthful – I love talking about books whether they’re mine or someone else’s. Fiction is just so much more fun than reality!!!
Happy Reading
Natalie Gayle

Welcome Cassandra Carr

On Display-Cassandra Carr- Banner

On Display
Cassandra Carr

Hunter wants Olivia, and the feeling is mutual. She decides to take her secret attraction public and show up at the club where he’s bouncing, ready to lay everything on the line to snag him. Hunter can’t believe his luck, and soon makes his own move on the woman he’s lusted after for months. Things heat up between them during an exciting—and exhibitionist—evening that leaves them both anticipating more sexy times to come.
An Exotika® contemporary erotica story from Ellora’s Cave

By reading any further, you are stating that you are at least 18 years of age. If you are under the age of 18, please exit this site.

An Excerpt From: ON DISPLAY
Copyright © CASSANDRA CARR, 2013
All Rights Reserved, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.

Shit, where did he go?

“Nice dancing.”

Olivia jumped and a large hand shot out to steady her with a solid grip to her waist. She looked up. Hunter. “You scared me.”

“I see that.” He tilted his head. “You look flushed. You okay?”

“Yeah. I just get hot when I dance.”

“You were hot before that.” A shocked expression flitted over his face before he looked down and coughed. Olivia had to fight a laugh.

Well, at least it’s more evidence he’s interested.

He shifted his weight, crossing his arms over his chest, and she had to suppress the urge to drool. The man was beautiful. There was no other way to describe him. Olivia loved his hair. It was thick and wavy and when it was down it hung to his shoulders. His face was angular as if he had some Native American ancestry and his chocolate-brown eyes could be either intense or full of mirth, depending on his mood. She’d spent more than one night with her Hitachi Magic Wand, imagining his full lips skating over her heated skin.

That same skin was definitely warm now. If she’d thought dancing had made her sweat, this was torture. How was a woman expected to just sit there and
let hotness like Hunter go unexplored?

“Do you, um,” Hunter gestured toward the back of the club, “want to get some air?” Her eyebrows drew down. There was no exit that way. Clearing his throat and sending her a smile, he continued. “There’s a patio no one uses on a night like tonight when it’s so freaking hot. It was a smoking patio, now Vince uses it for private parties and stuff.” Hunter looked away and then back at her. He was babbling. It was adorable and sexy all at the same time.

“Sure, that sounds good. Can’t be any hotter than it is in here.”

He laughed. Dimples. I’m a dead woman. “Yeah, it’s like an oven, isn’t it? The air-conditioning is no match for all the people.”

She attempted to hop off her barstool without flashing him and realized he’d never let her waist go. His other hand joined in the act and he brought her gracefully to the floor. “Thanks.” He was dangerously close and Olivia hoped like hell she’d have the courage to make it known how much she wanted him. Maybe he’d make it unnecessary.

He placed a hand on her back right above the swell of her ass and guided her through the crowd and toward a dimly lit hallway. As Hunter leaned in, his breath fanned over her ear. Olivia shivered. “We don’t keep the lights on anymore. It discourages people from coming back here now that there’s nowhere for them to go.”

Olivia nodded mutely and Hunter guided her farther into the recesses of the hallway until they came to a door, which he pushed open and held for her.
She took a few seconds to assess her surroundings. “Wow, this is really nice.”

He closed the door behind them. “Yeah, now that the smoke smell is finally getting better and Vince added some crap customers like, it’s not bad.”
Her hand shot up to cover her mouth after a laugh tumbled out. Hunter grinned and those dimples made another appearance. “I’m sorry.”

“About what? Laughing at me?”

“I’m not laughing at you. I’m laughing at your description of this area. ‘Crap customers like’?”

“You know what I mean.” He gestured to the various potted plants scattered throughout the area and the grill in the corner. “Customers love the trees
with the little white lights, no matter how boring and common they are now. And the grill? I don’t remember the last time that was used, except at our
employee party about eight months ago.”

“Fair enough.”

He caressed her cheek. “You have no idea how gorgeous you look in the moonlight.”

She shook her head with a chuckle. “That’s quite a line.”

“Not a line. The truth.” Before she could comment further, he’d moved his hand to the back of her neck and brought her face to his. “I need to kiss you.”


Their lips met and Olivia moaned. As if that was the sign he was looking for, Hunter snaked his other arm around her waist and pulled her flush against him, sliding a thick thigh between her legs as he deepened the kiss. His tongue demanded entrance to her mouth, and with a sigh, she opened to him. Hunter wasted no time, pushing inside and exploring her depths. Her tongue chased his when he retreated and he groaned.

Even if they went no further she’d have fodder for hundreds of nights of fantasies. Oh, could the man kiss. He put his entire body into it, slowly stoking the fire inside her. Finally they came up for air, both panting.

He leaned back a little more and fixed a heated stare on her. “I’m on break with about twenty minutes left. I need you.”
She couldn’t deny him. Hell, she didn’t want to. “Then take me.”