Friday, July 30, 2010

Happy Release Day to Nicole Austin!

Happy release day to Nicole Austin! I love cougar stories so I can't wait to read this one :)

Summer of the Cougar
By Nicole Austin

A standalone title in the Cougar Challenge series.

With the big four-oh looming, Larissa Cross is more than ready to shed the roles that have defined her and make drastic changes. Gone are the widowed Army wife, soccer mom and empty nester. She’s even setting aside the schoolteacher until fall.

A naughty challenge issued by fellow erotic romance booklovers on their blog, Tempt the Cougar, has come at the perfect time and ignited Rissa’s competitive drive. It’s going to be a glorious summer full of hot younger man lovin’ for a new cougar on the prowl. Rawr!

Tattooed and pierced fireman JD Harmon is tempting prey but there’s much more to the hunk than his bad boy good looks. A one-night stand isn’t in his plans, and sex—no matter how mind-blowing—won’t distract him from his goals. JD intends to tame the wicked cougar and stake a claim on her heart.

Thursday, July 29, 2010

Happy Release Day to Juniper Bell!

My Three Lords by Juniper Bell
Available now at Ellora's Cave

How is one innocent country girl to choose between a Duke, a Marquis and an Earl? Must she?

When Miss Alicia Silverwood marries the Earl of Dorchester, he whisks her off to Notre Plaisir, a country manor where erotic surprises await in the company of three powerful lords.

The young Earl needs a wife and heir. The cynical Marquis de Beaumont needs a playmate. And the commanding Duke of Warrington needs a reason to live. As for the new Lady Dorchester, she’s about to discover the true nature of her own sensual needs. On top of that, she’s falling in love.

It might take a miracle for Lady Alicia and her three lords to come to an arrangement that makes them all happy. Or perhaps all that’s required is a little scandalous rule-breaking.

Reader Advisory: Contains an m/m/f/m ménage with brief m/m sex, as well as a deflowering and much sweet loving.

Monday, July 26, 2010

Isabel Roman--Sex and Subterfuge Virtual Book Tour

Please welcome my special guest today, Isabel Roman who's here chatting about her new release Sex and Subterfuge. The topic today? How does writing a menage scene differ from a scene with a couple. Take it away, Isabel!

Okay…interesting topic! I’m game. A ménage sex scene as opposed to just a couple scene.

Pronouns. I know, I know, it’s rather mundane but it’s the truth. Too many he’s or her’s and it’s confusing. Who’s doing what to whom?

Keeping all 3 occupied at once. Can’t have anyone getting bored. *wink*

Keeping in the forefront of the reader’s

mind the exotic-ness of the situation. Even if this isn’t a new experience, it isn’t of the norm in today’s society. It’s about the passion, the pleasure, and yes, even the love. But it’s not a threesome you see walking down the street, it’s a couple. Or at

least that’s how most people perceive it.

Placement of hands: Unless they aren’t human, humans aren’t contortionists or plastic man. They can’t wrap a hand around a bunch of times or touch you just there from across the bed.

I guess if you’re comfortable enough writing a couple sex scene (m/f, m/m, f/f) you’re comfortable enough writing more. As long as you remember everyone involved, that is. And if you’re comfortable—or adventurous—enough to try a ménage, then don’t balk. Don’t stop half way, don’t chicken out, go for it! (In any way you so desire *G*)

The topic really got me thinking!

Thanks for having me today. I have a free Dark Desires of the Druids: Choose Your Own Adventure (link:

Readers find a copy of Dark Desires of the Druids: Sex & Subterfuge here (! Or here (

And thanks for being here! Now let's get to that sexy book of yours :)


A master magicker, Morgana Blackthorne has a tenuous hold on her following. When a strange Englishman arrives on her doorstep with news of other druidic magickers, and magicker problems, she’s intrigued but suspicious. There hasn’t been contact between the American and European druids in over a hundred years. Plus she has her own worries and doesn’t need the handsome earl adding to them.

Lucien, Earl of Granville, left England to seek out the Blackthorne Druid line and discover what they’ve been up to since contact was lost. Once he and Morgana meet, their mutual attraction distracts him from his purpose. Embroiled in her problems, he finds himself more concerned with her welfare than is practical for a passing affair.

When I invited you into my bed, it never occurred to me I wouldn’t want you to leave.

There are darker forces at work and the hunger of a weak magicker desperate for power. Will Lucien convince Morgana of his true feelings before things spiral out of control? Or will the surrounding subterfuge tear them apart?


[After Lucien and Morgana return from intimidating a French smuggler into handing over a case of dangerous and illegal venom used in making potions.]

“I need to speak with him,” Morgana said. “I’ll send him along later.”

James’s eyes narrowed at her, but he nodded. Even in company he barely tolerated, he’d never question her. Especially in company he barely tolerated.

Lucien watched her with a quizzical expression and she smiled. The parlor door closed silently behind her. They wouldn’t be interrupted by servants. Now was the time.

Since we met,” she said confidently and closed the distance between them. “I’ve been attracted to you.”

He nodded, caressing her cheek with the knuckles of one hand. “I’ve felt the same way.”

“Good,” she whispered, voice husky, lips a breath from his. “Come upstairs with me.”

Lucien tried to recall a time when a woman was bold enough to seduce him, and could not. Morgana was different from his previous lovers and far, far more daring. His entire being was focused on her, on her body. Thoughts of their night, the venom, and André’s mysterious buyer swept from his head the instant she kissed him.

Now, both half naked, his lips trailed down her thigh, over her knee, to her delicate ankle. Up the other leg, over the delicate swell of her hip. He looked at her in the dimness of the room. And in the shifting shadows, her eyes were a deep recess that drew Lucien in and captured him. In those interminable minutes before their lips touched again, he felt himself drowning in her; her taste, her scent, her very essence.

Their lips touched softly, gently at first. Flesh on flesh. Then she opened her mouth under his and drew him in. He watched her eyes flutter shut as she gave herself over and he pulled her closer, determined to have all of her this night.

Tiny, invisible tendrils wound around them, drawing them to each other, into each other and together they crossed that final barrier. He felt her hands move up his sides, over his shoulders to caress his neck, only to wind themselves around and pull him even closer, molding her body to his – perfectly.

Lucien thought he knew what it was to give into lust. To know that rush, and revel in it for as long as it lasted. Thought he’d experienced everything there was to experience when it came to matters of the flesh. As her hands tugged off his shirt, slowly roaming the bare flesh underneath, he discovered he was wrong.

Morgana sighed his name. “Lucien.”

Friday, July 16, 2010

Happy Release Day to Annabel Joseph!

Congrats, Annabel! Sounds like Deep in the Woods is too hot to handle ;)

Click here to view larger image

Deep in the Woods
By: Annabel Joseph

Read excerpt

Sophie finally finds the courage to reenter the Atlanta BDSM scene after extricating herself from an abusive relationship. At a local munch, she meets Dave, a funny, laid-back erotic photographer. When she sees him again later at a dungeon, Sophie is surprised by her strong attraction, and nervous about starting a new relationship, but Dave eases her fears. They embark on a sexy, thrilling D/s relationship and Sophie finds healing and fulfillment in Dave’s arms.

But Sophie is still haunted by nightmares of her past. On a dark night in the woods with Dave and his friend Ryan, frightening memories overtake her. She knows that in order to move on, she must uncover the tragedy that haunts her subconscious.

Sophie’s quest for answers brings her face-to-face with her previous tormentor. She finds herself once more in the deep woods, not only fighting for answers…but also for her life.

Reader Advisory: Contains m/f/m ménage scenes and brief but graphic violence.

Monday, July 12, 2010

Guest Author Kaily Hart

Please welcome my guest, fellow Ellora's Cave author Kaily Hart! She's blogging today about what it's like to be published for the first time. Take it away, Kaily---

If I could think of one word to describe what it’s been like as a new author, it would be ‘emotionally draining’. OK, that’s really two words, but I couldn’t think of a great one-worder! I really mean it in the best way possible. As we go through life, we experience many firsts, some more memorable than others. As a newly published author, I’ve been lucky to experience many, many firsts to date. For Picture This, I seem to have struck a bonanza and they all seemed to come within a very short space of time!! They’ll always be mine, and they’ll always be special and I’d like to share them with you:

I wrote my first novella. [Picture This, duh…]
I submitted to my first epublisher. [Ellora’s Cave]
I received my first revision request.
I got my first offer for publication.
I executed my first publishing contract.
I got my first editor. Yay, Grace! [notice comma before name!!]
I received my first edits! [goodbye en-dash]
I got my first cover.
I received my first release date!
I had my first heart attack [no, just kidding, but sometimes it felt like it!!]
OMG, June 29, 2010 and I’m a published author for the first time! [I got me a buy link!]
My first review! Woohoo! [Tiger Lily, I love you]
My first feedback from a reader [Rita, you’ll always have a special place in my heart]
My first interview as a published author [Cari, you petitioned and you got it, baby!]

So, how does it feel? It’s exhilarating, scary, empowering, anxiety-ridden, incredible, nerve-wracking, moving… LOL. Seeing a pattern here? Yeah, like I said, emotionally draining, but in the absolutely, positively, best way possible!!! The coolest part of all of it so far has been reader feedback by far. Many have reached out to me directly to say how much they’ve enjoyed the book, the characters, the story. To be able to touch someone in some way? Well, it’s why I write!

If any of you have read my book and happened to look at the dedication, Picture This is dedicated to all aspiring authors. It wasn’t that long ago that I was in those ranks and I won’t forget that anytime soon. I may have achieved the milestone that all writers strive for, but it’s not an end. I see it as a beginning. It’s the first rung on the publishing ladder for me and I really hope there will be many more milestones or rungs along the way. Actually, I hope it turns out to be more like an elevator, rather than a ladder!

As well as being an incredible journey to date, it’s also been a foundational learning experience. As a writer you learn constantly, about the craft of writing as well as the business aspects of it. Going through revisions and edits with an editor was an invaluable experience. Being involved in promotion has been a very steep learning curve but amazing and getting to see your work out there in reviews? Almost surreal. As a writer I don’t think I’ll ever stop learning, nor would I want to.

Writing is still as hard as it was before, possibly even more so because there’s the pressure of creating another story that’s not just as good, but better than the first. Suddenly, you’ve built expectation out there and you have to try and live up to that. Ah, the never ending cycle of hope and anxiety for the writer!! So, what am I focused on now? Well, I’m still basking in the success some, but I’m hard at work on my next book, of course!

So, I showed you mine, you show me yours! Anyone care to share any of their memorable firsts?



Desperate and young, Jillian Moore did something she knew would one day come back to bite her in the ass. She’d posed nude. For money. Years later, and on the fast track to a successful career, she’s still haunted by her mistake. She can’t help but wonder when her past will catch up with her.

Samuel Steele is not short on female attention, but the women who warm his bed pale in comparison to the fantasy he’s created of the seductive temptress in the painting hanging prominently in his bedroom. A fantasy that has ruined his once satisfying sex life. When he discovers that her exact likeness works in his building—for him—things get…interesting.


Oh my God, Samuel Steele was a walking, talking wet dream.

She’d drooled from afar plenty, but up close he was downright gorgeous. Every woman in the place, and even some of the guys, had checked out his tight butt, flat abs and broad shoulders, and although he’d never worn anything but a suit to the office, that didn’t stop imaginations from running riot. His hair was dark and thick, his skin tanned, and regardless of the time of day, his jaw always seemed darkened with at least a day’s beard growth. And his eyes. She’d never been close enough to make out their color before, but they were a dark, piercing gray. They should have looked cold, but the way he was looking at her made her wonder if someone had turned off the air-conditioning.


Follow Kaily's Virtual Book Tour at Goddess Fish Promotions or click one of her links to find out more about this fascinating author!

Book buy link -

Blog -


Twitter -

Wednesday, July 7, 2010

Happy Release Day to Natalie Dae!

Please show some love for my fellow Ellora's Cave author, Natalie Dae! Congrats on her new release, Magenta Starling. You won't want to miss this hot, hot read; pick up your copy today!


Cursed at birth, Dion is a demon who has searched for his beloved for centuries. Upon meeting Morgan, he knows she’s the one he’s been waiting for, the one woman he can love forever, the one woman capable of helping him break the curse. However, Jistin, the curse-giver, has other ideas…

Morgan longs for a relationship and release from her solitary life aboard her yacht, The Magenta Starling. She longs for Dion—who’s not all that he appears. When he reveals his feelings for her, Morgan allows Dion to take her to his world, the realm of Thradmos. Her love for him growing even as she struggles to accept his reality, Morgan realizes she would do anything for him—including give up her life in the real world.

At a party held in celebration of Dion’s impending freedom, Morgan is snatched away by Jistin. In a final battle, Dion will fight not only for his freedom, but also that of his beloved, lest he be cursed for all eternity…and lose Morgan in the process.


Copyright © NATALIE DAE, 2010

All Rights Reserved, Ellora's Cave Publishing, Inc.

At anchor in the deepest part of the bay, Morgan’s large yacht, The Magenta Starling, bobbed intermittently on languid evening waves. Morgan stood on deck, leaned on the prow rail and took in the lit shoreline, a pitch sky the backdrop to golden lights. The ocean crept up the beach as though unsure of its welcome, yet retreated just as slowly. Music filtered from the bars and clubs, a cacophony of mingled beats, unrecognizable as any individual tune. A carnival atmosphere raged ashore, the same as every other summer night—nothing unusual for this part of the world, where holidaymakers partied hard and spent their cash fluidly.

Morgan smiled. If only they knew what their cash could buy here.

A taxi-boat chugged toward her yacht, the tall floodlights illuminating white foam in the smaller vessel’s wake. Morgan made out two occupants—the captain and her client. He’d telephoned earlier and requested an evening appointment, but she’d been fully booked this sultry Friday. As soon as the call had ended, her cell rang again—her last evening client cancelling. She’d contemplated another night alone before a rush of abandonment gripped her. She’d contacted Dion and informed him of the free slot.

Now she released a harsh laugh at the pun. She hadn’t been filled in a long time. Unwilling to give herself to just anyone, she rebuffed any offers from clients wishing to include sex with their spankings. No. She wanted a genuine relationship, not men who visited her for what they couldn’t get at home.

Morgan sighed and ousted the dismal thoughts. Tonight she would once again play a part. The role of a woman in total control. And revel at being in Dion’s company.

The boat drew nearer, so she straightened and smoothed the front of her dress. Unusual for a client to request a little black frock that wasn’t made of rubber, but Dion always did. Still, she wasn’t complaining. Her normal attire would have been hell to work in tonight. The heat still lingered despite the cooler breeze, an almost stubborn refusal to be gone and give respite. She wiggled her toes in strappy black sandals and peered at the boat as it chugged alongside hers with a splutter-chug-burp. The captain waved and smiled, his gap-toothed grin dull in a face tanned deeply by the merciless sun. Dion stood, his back to her, hands in suit trouser pockets. The cut of his jacket appeared expensive, as did that of his blond, wavy hair, and Morgan deduced he’d had it trimmed since she last saw him.

“All right there, missus? I’ll be back at eleven then?” the captain shouted, the engine noise and burble of the ocean from its propeller muffling his words.

“Yes, thank you.” Morgan smiled, though her gaze remained on the man in his boat.

Dion turned in slow motion and revealed his profile, one she had seen in her dreams day and night since he’d first set foot on her yacht. He faced her, his skin bronzed, white shirt open at the neck. Tawny chest hairs peeked through the gap and set her heart racing.

God, I want to fuck him.

He gave a lazy smile and stooped to pick up a picnic basket, his gaze remaining on her. Excitement fluttered in her stomach and she swallowed to wet her suddenly dry throat. He walked toward the side of the taxi-boat and Morgan leaned over the rail to relieve him of the basket he held aloft. Though curious as to what lay inside, she stilled her tongue and placed the basket on deck.

Dion turned to the captain. “I will call you later. I may not be ready by eleven.”

His voice, so cultured, reminded her of olden-day gentry. The captain saluted and Morgan frowned. For all Dion knew, she had another client booked after him. But in truth his audacity heightened her desire.

Dion held the rails of her yacht ladder and Morgan stepped back as he hauled himself aboard. His aftershave wafted in the humid air and she inhaled as deeply as she dared without alerting him to what she was doing. Undertones of bergamot and lemon assailed her, images of him naked and at her mercy dancing through her mind. Her cheeks heated and her pussy grew wet. Dion eyed her, his brown eyes harboring…lust?

Morgan swallowed again and clasped her hands in front of her. The taxi-boat sped off back to shore, and she bent down and gripped the basket handle. Dion’s hand covered hers and he lifted the basket between them. Dion’s palm was warm against her fingers and Morgan stared up at him, into eyes that set her clit to throbbing, and wished, wished…

“Good evening, Morgan.”

His smile, a slight tilt of his head and a wink jellied her knees.

Damn him for making me feel like this when I can’t have him!

“Good evening, Dion. What’s in the basket?”

She began to lift the lid but his free hand pushed hers away, their fingers entwining. Heat rushed to her face and she cursed the telltale stain that would surely alert him to how she felt.

“Oh, just a few things.” He uncurled her fingers from the basket handle.

“Things?” She quirked a brow.

“Yes. Shall we?” He motioned to the steps that led below deck. “Or would you rather play outside tonight?”

Her stomach churned and excitement swirled through her. She glanced around—no other boats in sight—and said, “Oh, outside should be fine. Besides, if anyone approaches, we’ll hear their motor.”

“And if anyone watches us through a telescope, we will be none the wiser.”

Morgan stifled a gasp and Dion laughed, loud and hearty, quelling the momentary flare of panic inside her. She shoved the thought of Peeping Toms from her mind and breathed deeply, willing herself to take command. Without her tools, though, she floundered, hands by her sides.

“I’ll need to go down and get—”

“I told you,” he leaned in and whispered beside her mouth, “I’ve brought some things…in the basket.” He kissed her lower lip.

Startled, she jumped back and a high-pitched “Oh!” escaped her. Dion had never crossed the line before, had never kissed her.

Does that mean…?

“Right,” she said on a ragged sigh, heart skipping a beat, legs lust-addled. “Let’s have a look insi—”

“I rather thought we would reverse roles tonight. I want to take charge.”

Monday, July 5, 2010

Four Brothers Clan, Book Two Excerpt

Excerpt Thrown to the Wolves, Book Two, The Four Brothers Clan Series featuring Sébastien

Sébastien des Quatre-Frères watched his brother survey the enclave, set up in the heart of what les étrangers called The Everglades.

All was running smoothly today—as usual—but Sébastien couldn't help but sweat Matéo's scrutiny. Not that Sébastien would admit it in a million years, but Matéo always made him nervous. Not to mention that Matéo overreacted to everything these days, but with good reason.

Quinna slipped up to him, her honey-brown hair glinting in the scant sunlight. Scrubby Cypress foliage cast patches of shadow across her face. Her expression tugged at his heart; her pink lips pressed together as though she didn't know what to say.

Relax, she communicated with her thoughts. It's been quiet today. And he's only here to help.

Her hand grazed his bare arm. He tensed away from the contact. Shh. He'll hear you.

I'm channeling only to you.

Doesn't matter, Quinna. He hears everything.

“It's true. I do hear everything.” Matéo walked over to them and kissed Quinna's cheek. “And it pisses off my older brother.”

She lowered her head, dropped her gaze, and bowed deeply.

“Quinna, how long have you known me?” He lifted her chin. “Have I ever asked for this kind of deference from anyone, much less someone I think of as a sister?”

She rose to face him. Her voice sounded tight and thin like it always did when she was nervous. “No, Téo.”

“That's better. How have you been, ma chère?”

“Good, thanks. And you?”

“I'll be better when we figure out why les anglais are here.”

If they're here,” Sébastien chimed in.

“Your subjects are sure they're here and it frightens them.”

With the abomination Matéo had put down last season and now two scouts missing didn't help the rumors.

“Let's get back to the chateau. If the trespassers are here, I don't want my presence to scare them off.”

Sébastien set his jaw at his little brother's arrogance. Well, his younger brother. Physically bigger, more gifted at the Ancient Arts, and higher ranking, the word 'little' didn't fit Matéo in any way, shape or form. Lupine or otherwise. Instead, Sébastien tucked a lock of glossy black hair behind one ear and held out his hand, motioning for his brother to precede him.

Thursday, July 1, 2010

Hour of the Wolf, Book One, Four Brothers Clan Series

Hour of the Wolf, Book One, Four Brothers Clan Series featuring Matéo
Available now at Cobblestone Press


Reese Emmerson's annual summer vacation to the solitude of Smith Mountain Lake started off normally, but then voices in the night tear her from her peaceful slumber. Not that this is unusual. She's been hearing the thoughts of others for as long as she could remember.

Now, the thoughts of two wolves are intruding on her consciousness. Wolves? Yeah, she really must be losing it. Then again, there may be some thing more dangerous going on. Without the help of a beautiful stranger, Reese will fall prey a sinister obsession.


More than anything else, Reese Emmerson craved quiet. Not that she needed to escape from the hustle and bustle of Fredericksburg—as if the university town she called home could be referred to as hustling and bustling. She longed most for respite from the whispering.

One would think, for a person of Reese’s abilities, the daytime hours would be toughest, but this wasn’t the case. Daytime whispers were usually innocuous. Pick up a gallon of milk. Don’t forget dinner tonight with the dean. Chem paper due. French Lit paper due. Art History paper due. As an assistant professor of English Lit at Mary Washington University, she lived near campus, and there were always lots of whispers about papers due. These mundane things she could block out. Not like the voices she heard at night.

Does she know I’m screwing her roommate?

That’s it. Today was the last time I cut myself. For real, this time.

C’mon, take drink, you little bitch. Then you won’t be too good for me.

Help me. God, somebody help me.

I need something to come down. I need to sleep.

Reese understood a longing for deep, dreamless sleep. She rarely enjoyed a full night’s rest. Some random whisper would wake her; then her own worries would kick in. and she’d be up for the rest of the night. The hour of the wolf—that was what her father, Gene, called it. That time after midnight but before dawn when all one’s worries came home to roost. Fear preying on itself, using vulnerability and fatigue to inflate its importance. Reese knew the phenomenon all too well.

But at the cottage, the whispers couldn’t reach her. Situated near Smith Mountain Lake, but far enough into the woods that she had no neighbors for miles in each direction, the cabin gave her a much needed sanctuary. Even on the drive down, the whispers weren’t too bad except when going through Richmond, particularly Jackson Ward. Junkies and whores and gangbangers, oh my! Too much sorrow to block out there. But past that onslaught of desperation, Reese could turn up the radio and think for a little while that she was just like everyone else. It was one of her favorite games: pretending to be normal. But she wasn’t.

Own your copy today