I am happy to be here on Brenda’s Blog. I am hot romance author Daryl Devoré and I have brought along my newest release – Darien's Desire – book 2 in the 2 Hearts ~ 1 Love Trilogy.
Blurb – You've read What Happens in Bangkok and now you need to know what's next.
It's complicated is not only her relationship status, but the definition of Erika Bailey's life. She loves managing her drag queen club in Bangkok, Thailand, but her rock star boyfriend resides in North Carolina. And to top it off, her father threatens she must stay away from Darien or lose the Pink Flamingo. Does she protect her club or her love?
Darien Scott, Grammy award winning international superstar, wants nothing more than to wake up in the arms of Erika, the woman he loves, but contractual obligations force him to exotic video shoots and an isolated movie set with one of Hollywood's sexiest stars.
With the feeding frenzy of social media trending every aspect of Darien's life—real or not—it's hard for Erika to know the truth. Will she be able to see through the lies and trust Darien? Or will evidence from damaging Internet rumors condemn their relationship?
"I'm going to spell something. You tell me what it is."
Erika looked at him. "You're kidding?"
"Nope. Trust me." Darien stretched his arm up and fondled her breast, stroking her clit with his tongue. "What letter was that?"
"A. R. I. E. N. Darien."
By the sixth letter in his name, she was panting. A dribble of sweat ran down her cheek. She pulled her knees up and dropped them open. "L.O.V.E.S. Oh God! Hurry."
He lifted his face and planted a small kiss on her bush. "I really need to come up with a motion that indicates a space between the words. How about this?" He waggled the tip of his tongue back and forth across her throbbing nub.
"Oh, so I should go back and start over." He swiped his tongue in a D shape.
"Oh fuck. D. A."
At the third letter in her name, she bucked her hips. "Don't stop. Please. Don't."
Several alphabet strokes later, Darien paused. "Hmm, what comes after the I in Erika?"
"K!" The letter exploded from her lips.
He drew the K then the A and finished by lapping his tongue up the between the folds of her lips.
Her body burned. She stood on the edge of a precipice and needed the slightest of nudges to blissfully sail over it. One more touch. She waited.
Darien knelt and met her gaze. She wanted to tell him to touch her, but her words were cut off by her rapid pants.
"And now for something totally crazy. Come here."
Daryl Devoré (@daryldevore) lives in an old farmhouse in Ontario, Canada, with her husband, a large aquarium full of fish, a black cat named Licorice and some house ghosts. Daryl loves to take long walks up her quiet country road, snowshoe across the back acres, and in the summer, kayak along the St. Lawrence River. She's touched a moon rock, a mammoth and a meteorite. She's been deep in the ocean in a submarine, flown high over Niagara Falls in a helicopter and used the ladies room in a royal palace. Life's an adventure and Daryl's having fun living it.
Where to find Daryl Devoré
Blog - https://daryldevore.blogspot.ca
Facebook - https://www.facebook.com/Daryl-Devore-Erotic-Romance-Writer-280168402052520/
Twitter - http://twitter.com/daryldevore
Google+ - https://plus.google.com/u/0/107866370365154406917
Book Blitz: Sea WItch tour by Stacey Rouke @Rourkewrites Hosted by Lady Amber's Reviews @agarcia6510
Title: Rise of the Sea Witch
Author: Stacey Rourke
Genre: YA Fantasy/ Fairy Tale and Folklore
Cover Designer: Najla Qamber Designs
Publisher: Anchor Group Publishing
Hosted by: Lady Amber’s PR
Details of the sea witch’s banishment have been exaggerated. The body count that preempted it was not. Once an illustrious princess, her hands and tentacles were stained with the blood of thousands. No one could comprehend how the hooks of madness dragged her down from her life of privilege.
Born Princess Vanessa of Atlantica, the ambitious young royal was one of two children born to the great King Poseidon. She and her brother, Triton, were groomed from birth to rule. Yet only one would ascend that coveted throne. While carefree Triton flits through his training with a cavalier demeanor and beguiling charm, Vanessa’s hunger for her father’s acceptance drives her to push herself to the limits of magic, and combat to become a leader worthy of her people.
When war against the humans ravages their once regal kingdom, political sides are chosen. Factions from the seven seas challenge the existing leadership, pitting Vanessa against her brother in a vicious battle for the crown. Traitors are exposed, dark family secrets revealed, and a once strong sibling bond is strained to its breaking point.
Only when the ink black waters from the ultimate betrayal rescind, will the truth be known of how the villainous sea witch rose with one name on her vengeful lips--Triton.
Release Party: https://www.facebook.com/events/1444262982284035/
RONE Award Winner for Best YA Paranormal Work of 2012 for Embrace, a Gryphon Series Novel
Young Adult and Teen Reader voted Author of the Year 2012
Turning Pages Magazine Winner for Best YA book of 2013 & Best Teen Book of 2013
Stacey Rourke is the author of the award winning YA Gryphon Series, the chillingly suspenseful Legends Saga, and the romantic comedy Adapted for Film. She lives in Michigan with her husband, two beautiful daughters, and two giant dogs. She loves to travel, has an unhealthy shoe addiction, and considers herself blessed to make a career out of talking to the imaginary people that live in her head.
Visit her at www.staceyrourke.com
Facebook at www.facebook.com/staceyrourkeauthor
or on Twitter or instagram at Rourkewrites.
I admit that in the past I was a princess. They weren’t kidding when they called me … well, a spoiled twit.” Tentacles rolling and churning beneath me, I turn to the newest member of my little garden with effortless grace. Arms thrown out wide, I grant the shriveled polyp a beguiling smile. Those around him tremble in fear, pulling as far away from him as their roots deep within the ocean floor will allow. “Through rather unfortunate circumstances it became mandatory I mend my ways. And, yes, some of the techniques I employed earned me the title of villain.”
“Never, my Queen,” Floteson murmurs. Coiling around my upper arm, he drapes himself across my shoulder.
Jetteson’s oily scales lovingly brush my cheek. “Every one of them was deserving of your wrath.”
Shoulders curling in, I pucker my lips which are freshly glossed by a crimson sea-flower and tenderly scratch each of them under their chins. “How horrible can I be to be so adored by such sweet babies?”
“She shows us nothing but love,” my darling zebra sharks chorus.
Their unwavering dedication soothes me, allowing me to expel a calming breath that bubbles in a wreath around my face.
“I am not the horrible beast many think me to be. Yet I feel it is your own misconceptions that brought you here, and led to … well, you know.” Floating passed my ornate vanity mirror, which seems out of place in the dreary cave I call home, I suck in my cheeks. Turning my head one way and then the other, I inspect my reflection. A smug smile curls the corners of my lips. The woman staring back at me is positively voluptuous with power, mayhem swirling within her clay-gray eyes. “Undoubtedly, you’ve heard rumors of my banishment.”
Hitching one eyebrow at my newly planted polyp, I watch him squirm under the weight of my attention.
“Do you even know my true given name, I wonder? Before hateful whisperings from the farthest reaches of the Seven Seas dubbed me The Sea Witch, I went by another name: Princess Vanessa of Atlantica. I harbored dreams of bringing peace and happiness to the kingdom … as their noble queen.”
Jabbing my hands on to my ample hips, I turn in a swirl of black and purple. “I’m not sure if that pitiful pout is caused by your deep longing to hear more, or if you’re mourning the loss of your shriveled limbs. But,” with a theatrical roll of my wrist, I snap my fingers—my cauldron sparks to life, an ethereal green glow simmering from within, “I choose to think the former because it’s about me … and all of my favorite things are.
“It would be predictable for me to say it all began with the death of my mother. Predictable and false.”
Water rushes beneath me with one mighty flap of all my tentacles. The power of the act propels me over to my alchemy shelves, where my fingers flick over the exposed vials. Some days I seek to terrorize my captives, calling out each ingredient or dangling it over their heads before tossing it into my brew.
Tongue of porpoise.
Eye of cuttlefish.
Shell of sea turtle.
I won’t lie and say watching their complexions green and bug eyes bulge isn’t a guilty pleasure of mine. For the moment, however, a wave of generosity—brought on by the mention of my mother—prompts me to toss them in without my usual theatrics. Each is received into the cauldron’s wide-mouth drum with a puff of smoke and spray of sparks.
“As much as I loved my mother, losing her didn’t drive me to madness as some would have you believe.” Hearing the melancholy in my tone, I bristle. “Far from it, in fact. I would have subjected myself to an abysmal existence of the mundane in honor of her memory. No, it was after the black flags of mourning had been strung through the kingdom, after the spectacle of her funeral procession had passed, that my descent began.”
Throwing one final ingredient into the cauldron, a veil of greasy smoke wafts from its rim. Images begin to form within the haze: the king’s regal quarters, and a formidable frame seated in a high-backed chair behind a massive stone desk.
Crouching down, I position myself eye level with the miniscule scene unfolding. My tentacles coil into tight knots beneath me. “This was the night … the night when I was touched by magic for the very first time … and loathed it to my very core.”
Within the ghostly image, the curtain to the king’s quarters is pushed open. A heavy set nursemaid with stripes of gray in the messy twist of her bun swims in. On one hip she balances a cherub-faced baby that’s only two months shy of his second birthday. Blond ringlets halo his head. Both his eyes and cheeks are ruddy from crying. The frazzled servant’s other hand clings to that of a raven-haired princess who rubs at her tired, violet eyes with a chubby, toddler fist.
“If you aren’t following along yet, that princess is me,” I explain to my captive audience. “The maid softly shushing my younger self is Loriana. Oh, how dear she was to me. She was a servant in the castle, tasked with tending to my brother and I. That little sunset orange tail poking out from behind her belongs to her son, Alastor. He was Triton’s best friend and would become much more than that to me ...”
“Sire,” respectfully bowing her head, Loriana readjusted her hold on Prince Triton, “I hate to interrupt.”
My father, King Poseidon, pushed his chair back from the desk in a swirl of water and sand, and rose in greeting. To the rest of the kingdom, he was known as simply the supreme ruler of Atlantica. To me, and my juvenile ignorance, he was the God of the Sea who towered over us all. I envisioned all of his enemies, and anyone that ever wished me harm, falling to their knees and trembling before his commanding presence. His hair and thick beard were the red of Precious Coral. Muscle rippled over every inch of his exposed torso. His narrow waist tapered into an emerald green tail that perfectly matched the shining jewels of his eyes. Countless times I had examined the lines of his face in search of some similarity between the two of us. None could be found. Triton had his smile, and later—when adolescence hit—he would inherit his strong chin. Me? Every inch of me was a lackluster shadow of my mother’s regal beauty. Where her eyes and tail sparkled like freshly polished amethyst, mine seemed dull by comparison. Or, perhaps the lighting from the pedestal I’d built for her in my mind shone for her with a more flattering shimmer.
“The hour is late. I welcome the interruption.” Poseidon set his fish bone quill onto the desk top, and positioned its stone cradle on top of it. “How can I be of service, Loriana?”
“It’s the children, Your Highness.” Her face a mask of maternal sorrow, Loriana gave my hand a quick pulse of comfort. “This is the first night they have ever tried to go to sleep without a lullaby from their dear mother. I’m afraid I can’t seem to calm their troubled little hearts.”
Poseidon’s broad chest expanded with a deep inhalation, and tipping his head he exhaled a flurry of rushing water and bubbles. “This is a troubling time for us all,” he agreed. Crossing the room with one stroke of his tail, he extended his hands to receive Triton. My brother waved his arms in eager delight, wriggling into the security of Father’s strong embrace. Inching forward, I blinked up at the mighty king. He floated past without so much as ruffling my hair. “I’m afraid I don’t have your mother’s gift of song, but perhaps we could sit a spell and find peace in our togetherness.”
Honoring her position outside of the room, Loriana gave me a gentle push forward to follow my father. Casting a tentative glance over my shoulder, I did just that. Poseidon swirled Triton around, eliciting a giggle that crinkled the corners of his ocean blue eyes, before the king collapsed on the sea sponge sofa with his darling son on his lap. I perched on the very edge of the far cushion, uninvited and unnoticed.
Before that moment our father had been more of a … hmm, how to put this delicately? A figurehead in our lives. We knew of him and regarded him fondly, but unfortunately his kingly duties allowed our primary interactions to be those staged for political potency. Our mother, the lovely Queen Titonis, spent her days caring for my brother and I with only Loriana to aid her. Now, Poseidon had no choice but to pick up the yolk. For Triton this transition seemed to be going swimmingly. I, however, was getting as much attention as the Orca-bone end table.
Hands under the little prince’s pits, Poseidon turned Triton to face him. “I was so proud of how you behaved during the processional today,” he gushed. “You honored not only me, but your mother’s memory when you clasped your tiny fist over your heart and held your head high as her carriage passed.”
“Follow Nessa.” Triton looked to me with love, his tailfin a muted clap when connecting with Father’s lap.
“Your sister has two whole years of further training and experience than you, my boy.” Poseidon’s shoulders raised, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “You exhibited the poise of a true leader.”
My lips clamped shut to stifle a sob, his words stinging like a slap. I had just as much right to the throne as Triton, but this was the first moment I became painfully aware of who he longed to see succeed him. It would not be the last … or the most painful.
“She held her curtsy so long, merfolk threw flowers!” Alastor, a year and a half older and far more eloquent than Triton, darted into the room to brazenly interject. Mahogany waves curled over his earlobes, adding dimension to his round little face that resembled a bubble. The boldness of his gesture quickly shriveled under Father’s menacing glare.
“The son of a servant entering the king’s quarters?” Father boomed, one eyebrow raising in question. “One might question your upbringing, lad.”
“A thousand apologies, Your Majesty!” Loriana blushed from her neck clear up to her earlobes and snapped her fingers at her wandering boy. “Alastor, come here at once!”
Shoulders sagging like a stone cast to the depths, Alastor returned to his rightful place in the hall. The heat of his topaz stare bore into me as he paddled along, searching for even the slightest acknowledgement of his noble deed.
I had none to offer.
My own gaze had drawn away from my brother, laughing while Father tickled his cheeks with his beard, to scan the items neatly arranged on father’s desk. Inanimate objects which earned his attentions daily just by being. On the right side, closest to his scrawling hand, sat the quill. Its fat little ink pot was perfectly positioned perpendicular beside it. In the center of the desk, weighted by stones carved with the royal crest, rested a stack of scrolls awaiting the king’s notice. On the left-hand corner, Poseidon’s late night snacking needs were met by a plate of rolled and seasoned seaweed puffs.
The ink pot lured my attention back as if calling to me.
I had never had to work for attention in any capacity. My mother had always given it freely, and in limitless supply. Since she had been taken from me, I had unquenched needs: hugs, stories, and all of that … drivel. So, yes, I thought about acting out. I toyed with the idea of knocking over that little clay pot and letting the ink flow to ruin the staged perfection of father’s space. More than that, I wanted to. I wanted to hear him shout out my name in his menacing vibrato, because at least then he would have to acknowledge me. While my hands stayed folded neatly in my lap, as the good little mergirl I was, something within me I had never felt before reached out. Palpable energy, only I seemed privy to, crackled through the water to cradle the pot in its hold. I could feel it, poised and ready, awaiting my command. Biting my lower lip to fend off a threatening grin, my essence gave barely a nudge and the ink pot tumbled. A thick black cloud exploded over my father’s desk, staining the scrolls and ruining the once delectable wraps.
“Vanessa!” thundered my father, rocketing off the sofa. “Look what you’ve done!”
I turned toward him with feigned remorse … and screamed. The howl of terror tore from my chest until my gills ached and my throat was raw.
There was a buzz of activity: Poseidon calling to the nursemaid, Loriana swimming in as fast as her fins could carry her, Triton wailing in fear, Alastor trying to shush his friend from the doorway to which he’d been banished. I neither saw nor heard any of this.
Floating in the center of the room, bobbing with the current, was my mother.
Not the serene vision of loveliness I had known her to be that was full of life and love. Heck, I even would’ve happily settled for the slumbering beauty she appeared to be during her funeral. In vast contrast, the entity hovering before me had chunks of flesh gnawed away by assorted sea beasts. Cracked, ashen lips curled into a snarl. Black ooze bubbled through her teeth, dripping from her chin and clouding the water. My scream reached a fevered pitch, spots dancing before my eyes. The ghoul, who in life sang me to sleep, reached for me with one hand that had been gnawed to bone.
You see, by using magic I opened a door and allowed the darkness in. The cost being more than I could bear, I vowed to myself—as my consciousness waned—never, ever to dabble with such things again.
Oh, the lies we tell ourselves …
Welcome Stacey! So glad you agreed to share a little more with the readers. I'm sure they will be fascinated to learn more about you. Let's begin the interview when you're ready.
About the Author
Tell us a bit about yourself and your family. Don’t give away any secrets but what are you about? I am a wife, mother, daughter, aunt, sister, and friend. I have two giant St. Bernards, am creeped out by garden gnomes, love to travel, and I can hear the call of really pretty shoes all the way across a crowded mall. True story!
One of your favorite quotes? “Write drunk, edit sober.” -Walt Whitman and “Writing is the socially accepted form of schizophrenia.” -E. L. Doctorow
What dreams have been realized as a result of your writing? Winning a writing award, having readers that consider me one of their “One-click” writers because they trust and enjoy my work, throwing a successful book event (shout out to all my Once Upon a Book attendees!) and being able to make a career doing what I love. I have more dreams and goals for my work, but I am very proud of the journey thus far.
About the book
Tell us a little bit about your book? Rise of the Sea Witch is an origin story of a mermaid princess by the name of Vanessa that will one day become the sea witch we all know for her boisterous fabulousness, Ursela.
How did you choose the genre you write in? Fantasy always appeals to me, because there are no limitations. My imagination thrives off that!
What are you currently working on? I said I would never, ever write a vampire book. I’m writing a vampire book. Never say never!
If you gave one of your characters an opportunity to speak for themselves, what would they say? Vanessa would probably ask me why I couldn’t give her a single break in Rise of the Sea Witch! Poor gal embarks on some rough seas.
Is there anything that you would like to say to your readers and fans? Thank you. From the bottom of my heart, thank you. I would not be where I am today if it wasn’t for all of you and that means more to me that you can possibly imagine.
Cookies or Cake? Cookies
Ice tea or lemonade? Tea
Night or day? Day
Laptop or desktop for writing? laptop
Favorite color? Blue
Happily Ever After by Ruth A. Casie
Back Cover Copy:
From a fall from literary stardom to becoming the heroine in her own romance story, Beth Holmes has turned around her career and her love life. She owes it all to one very special person.
Jarred Watson has loved Beth since he read her first novel and suspected the heroine was the embodiment of the author. But the road to romance was fraught with pitfalls. He almost lost everything because of a conniving agent and a little white lie that got out of hand. At the eleventh hour, with honesty and hard work, their book sales are off the charts and a movie deal is in negotiations.
Interfering families and changed plans take their toll. Will they go their separate ways or will Holmes and Watson continue their literary collaboration and personal partnership in order to find their own happily ever after?
“I don’t know why I let the town council talk me into co-chairing the July Fourth celebration.” Her biting tone wasn’t meant to deceive him. She was very aware why she agreed. The offer at Christmas played to her wounded ego.
“They convinced you Beth Alexander would draw more people than last year’s co-chair. Even Jean agreed.”
“Yeah, easy for Jean to say. She’s my agent with no idea what it takes to run an event like this. More to the point, she’s not in Havenport herding cats. So why am I doing this?”
“Because you love it. You whip up people with your passion. That’s how you convinced me to do the book signing with you at the fair tomorrow.”
“If I remember correctly, I ‘whipped you up with my passion’ quite nicely before you left. You didn’t complain.” Images of their last night together flashed in her mind. They’d spent the day at the beach.
He wore his diving brief, which left nothing to the imagination. His broad shoulders, well-defined abs, and trim waist were romance-cover worthy. Dark wavy hair set off hazel eyes, which held a look of warmth and desire. Their lovemaking was more than heart-stopping strokes and touches. Much more. She leaned her forehead against the cool glass of the porch window to counter the heat threatening to burn her to a crisp.
“You still there, or did I hit a dead zone?”
“I’m here. Lost in the vision of ‘whipping you up.’” She stepped to the side table, breaking the conjured spell, and took a long drink of lemonade. The tartness quenched her thirst, but didn’t satisfy her other craving. That had to wait until Jarred got home.
“Yeah, me, too.” His voice rumbled with a soft, teasing laugh that he usually combined with a smart-ass Bruce Willis smirk.
She needed to get her mind on something else. She was so past mooning over him like a love-struck teenager. Her inner teen giggled. No, she was definitely a love-struck thirtysomething.
RUTH A. CASIE is a USA Today bestselling author of historical swashbuckling action-adventure time-travel romance about strong women and the men who deserve them, endearing flaws and all. Ruth also writes contemporary romance with enough action to keep you turning pages. She lives in New Jersey with her husband, three empty bedrooms and a growing number of incomplete counted cross-stitch projects. Before she found her voice, she was a speech therapist (pun intended), client liaison for a corrugated manufacturer, and international bank product and marketing manager vice president, but her favorite job is the one she’s doing now—writing romance. She hopes her stories become your favorite adventures. For more information, please visit www.RuthACasie.com or visit her on Facebook, @RuthACasie, Twitter, @RuthACasie, or Pinterest RuthACasie
Personal Blog: http://www.ruthacasie.blogspot.com
Facebook Author Page: http://www.facebook.com/RuthACasie/
He was the cause of her fall from literary stardom until he became her salvation #AuthorLove #Romance (add a short link to your blog)
Desiring Lacey – A Fantasies Unmasked Novel – Book 1 by Erica Lynn #AuthorLove #Romance #EroticRomance @Ms_Erica_Lynn
Desiring Lacey – A Fantasies Unmasked Novel
$3.99 or FREE in KU
Lacey Wilson is a lot of things. She’s beautiful. Sweet. A little sassy. And about to be divorced. Now, on the verge of turning thirty, she’s on a mission to find herself, both emotionally and sexually. No attachments. No baggage. No problems. But when her best friend convinces her to attend a private party, where masked men and women go to have a little anonymous fun, she finds herself staring into the eyes of the most incredible man she’s ever seen, and caution gets thrown to the wind. After all, what’s just one night?
Cameron Jennings likes to keep things simple. He helps out at his father’s garage during the day, then goes home to a few beers and TV. No muss, no fuss. Until one night when he’s working as the doorman at a private party, and meets her… Once he slips the purple mask over Lacey’s eyes and gets a taste of what she has to offer, he’s done for.
With Lacey on a mission to rebuild her life, and Cameron completely infatuated, will she be able to convince him they could never have a real future after the way they met? Or will he prove her wrong?
“Look, the girl from last night isn’t me. She’s not here. I’m
truthfully not interested in one-night stands or a friends-with benefits
type situation. Not that you care, but my life has been pretty
hellish over the past year, and I’m desperately trying to get my head
on straight and work on some things.” Such as jumping into situations
headfirst like an idiot with men I don’t know. “I’m just saying, she was fun
and a little on the easy side. It’s fine, it was an experiment, it is what it
is. But you want to ask her out, and all I can offer is me.”
Cameron narrowed his eyes and studied her face, and Lacey
couldn’t help but feel as if he could see inside her. “I don’t think she
was easy. I think she was there to have a good time, and I sincerely
hope she did. And anyway, who says she’s all I want?”
Lacey gave an exasperated sigh and threw her hands in the air.
“Then what is it you want?”
“I want to take you out. You know, on a date.”
Cameron turned toward the back counter and grabbed a small bag
from the side, then placed it in front of Lacey.
She hadn’t noticed it when she’d looked over the food, but her
curiosity was definitely piqued.
He opened the bag and pulled out a wrapped sandwich, then
placed it in front of her. The paper crinkled as he pulled it back to
reveal an absolutely sinful grilled cheese sandwich. “I get why you’d
think I’m only interested in messing around again, and it’s okay. All
things considered, I can’t really say I blame you. But the truth is I
want to get to know you. Stassi mentioned you didn’t care for
lunchmeat, so I made sure to get something you could eat. Their
grilled cheese are the best in town.”
Lacey’s stomach growled at the decadent smell of the food as he
pushed it closer. “I know, they’re my favorite.”
“You see, Lacey, I care about all of it. Let me take you out on a
proper date. We’ll start over. No funny business. I promise I’ll be an
“Ha.” Lacey unwrapped the rest of the sandwich and tore off a
large piece. “A gentleman would have brought tomato—”
“Soup?” Cameron reached back in the bag, pulled out a small
container of tomato soup, and placed it in front of her. “Yes, he
Lacey opened the container and smiled up at Cameron. Hmm. Mr. Too Handsome is kind of adorable…
Barnes & Noble
Lynn is the author of yummy, erotic goodness. She lives in Houston, TX with her husband, daughters, and dogs. She considers the beach to be her happy place and, as fate would have it, fell in love with her husband after a day of sun and sand.
She’s a self-proclaimed reality TV junkie, and especially loves The Real Housewives. In her few and fleeting spare moments, she loves to settle down with a nice glass of wine and a sexy book.
Social Media Links:
Facebook Group: Erica Lynn & All Things Sexy
AMAZON US: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B071F7FPQ9/
AMAZON UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B071F7FPQ9/
AMAZON AU: https://www.amazon.com.au/dp/B071F7FPQ9/
♥♦♥ BLURB ♥♦♥
Zach Taylor, an escort in Sydney, living in Hobart, enlists the help of Natasha Peterson when his teenage friend, Mia, runs away. He soon finds out that the ‘dragon’ is really more of a kitten. And although Natasha, Mia’s teacher, is attracted to him as well, she has her own problems to deal with, not to mention her initial reaction to Zach’s occupation.
Will Zach’s job keep him from a chance to be with Natasha?
Life is good for teenager Mia Levesque. But when Darren Schuster shows up in Hobart, she knows something is up once Sophie and Mark cut their weekend away short and rush home in the middle of the night. When Sophie won’t answer Mia’s questions, emotions run high, and Zach confirms Darren’s identity to Mia. Disappointed, angry, and feeling alone, Mia runs away.
Will life settle back into a routine for Mia once she finds out about the stranger in her life?
New Beginnings have given the Levesque girls a new start in life, will More Beginnings be another chance for them?
♥♦♥ EXCERPT ♥♦♥
Zach Taylor’s young neighbour, Mia, let out a long sigh as she joined him on his front porch and sat next to him on the swing. Enjoying a cool lemonade, he invited her to grab a soft drink from the fridge as well. It was a warm summer day, and the air showed no sign of cooling down. A lot of people in Hobart were weary of the unusual hot spell for the very southern Australian city.
With another hefty sigh, Mia raked through her long, blond hair and stared into the distance. “Honestly, Zach, she’s a dragon. I’m sure she does it on purpose. She doesn’t like me. She thinks I’m spoilt.”
The dragon in question was Miss Peterson, Mia’s high school English teacher. There was no doubt that Mia liked school, and she enjoyed her classes. And even though English wasn’t her worst subject, it certainly was the toughest one, with Miss Peterson piling on homework one after the other.
Zach took a sip of his drink before he replied, “Hey, pumpkin, settle down. What’s that supposed to mean you’re ‘spoilt’?”
She lifted her shoulder in a slight shrug. “You know!”
Raising his brows, he replied, “Actually I don’t know! Isn’t she Sophie’s good friend?”
Another shrug. “Kind of, I suppose. They used to do the boxing stuff together, and since Soph’s carrying a baby, they go and enjoy coffee and cake instead every once in a while.”
Ignoring his chuckle, she went inside and helped herself to cold lemonade. She opened the can with a simple click as she returned outside and took a long sip.
♥♦♥ MEET THE AUTHOR ♥♦♥
Iris Blobel was born and raised in Germany and only immigrated to Australia in the late 1990s. Having had the travel bug most of her life, Iris spent quite some time living in Scotland, London as well as Canada where she met her husband. Her love for putting her stories onto paper has only emerged recently, but now her laptop is a constant companion.
Iris resides west of Melbourne with her husband and her two beautiful daughters.
Next to her job at a private school, she also presents a German Program at the local Community Radio.
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In the Southern town of Lafayette Falls, a new life brings together a woman with everything to lose and a doctor with everything to prove.
When a sickly infant is surrendered at the Lafayette Falls Medical Center, and orphaned soon after, pediatrician Aaron Kendall arranges to adopt him. After a painful divorce, the busy baby doc is about to realize his own dream of becoming a father when the baby’s beautiful estranged aunt turns up. She doesn't exactly approve of the Kendall bachelor pad complete with Aaron's cranky dad and wacky brother, forcing Aaron to form a risky alliance with her.
Country singer-songwriter Lia Montgomery barely knew her half-sister, but she's determined her tiny nephew goes to a good home. If only she fit the bill herself, but her stressful life on the road is no place for a baby. Yet despite her misgivings, as she gets to know Aaron, she realizes the smart and sexy doctor is everything a child could want in a dad and more unsettling, everything she's ever hoped for in a man. After all she's put him through, is it too late to form a family and maybe put a song in the good doctor's heart?
Aaron looked across the table at his brother and for a moment, all the fear and heartache bottled up inside him exposed itself in his voice. “I can’t go through losing a son for the second time.”
Stevie’s brow netted in a worried frown as he sat up straight. “Okay.” He tented his fingers. “So you’ve gotta get tight with the girl.”
“What are you talking about?” Aaron continued to squash the aluminum can. “I have nothing in common with Lia Montgomery.”
“You have the baby,” Stevie pointed out. “I know that’s not what you want, but it is what it is. And you need to make the most of it. Bro, women are not that hard. Listen to me. You’ve got this chick whose sister just died so she’s got all this guilt and grief going on. And then there’s the sister’s sick little baby. Okay, so what’s Lia gonna do? I mean, she’s family. She’s gotta do something or she’s gonna feel like crap about herself.”
“Stevie—” Aaron tried to cut in.
“You’re going at this ass-backwards by trying to scare her off. How’s that working for you? Acting like a jerk? No wonder she wants the baby transferred.”
Aaron threw the ball of crushed aluminum at Stevie, who caught it. “Just putting the truth out there,” Stevie said. “Of course, I know why you’re an asshole, but she doesn’t.”
Aaron glared at his kid brother, but he didn’t say anything.
“You gotta put on your sad face. Like this.” Stevie’s face crumpled so that he looked on the verge of tears. “It works every time. I promise.” He grinned. “You need to say you’re sorry for how things went today. Keep on the sad face. Then you tell her you really could use some help because the baby doesn’t have any clothes.”
“What? He’s in an incubator. He doesn’t need clothes.”
“It’s not about the baby needing clothes. For chrissakes, do you know nothing about women? It’s about shopping. The magic word. Shopping,” Stevie reiterated. “Tell her you’d like for her to pick out some clothes for the baby and, hey, decorate the nursery, too. She’ll go wild. Shopping for baby stuff. That’s like mainlining heroin for women.
“Tell her you want her to pick out some toys, too. And then you go from sad face to hopeful face. Like a dog waiting for a treat. And you say that with her help, you think you can be the best dad ever. Bingo! You win! She’ll be thrilled because she’ll get to feel good about herself and she’s getting to help with the baby. You got her hook, line, and sinker.”
“What’s crazy is you sitting out here, covered in sweat, having a pity party about the past. You’re missing the opportunity of a lifetime if you know what I mean. Call her.”
“I can’t call her. I don’t have her number.”
“You didn’t get her number? Holy shit.” Stevie threw the ball of aluminum back at Aaron who caught it. “You know, that’s standard protocol.”
“Maybe,” Aaron replied. “But in this case, she’s not available.”
Stevie leaned forward. “Every chick is available if you play your cards right, bro.”
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Award-winning author Patricia Preston writes mainstream romance, historical romance and comic short stories. She is represented by the Seymour Agency. She is the author of a mainstream contemporary romances, Love Heals All, for Kensington Books/Lyrical Press imprint. She has several other e-book titles available including a historical romance, TO SAVE A LADY, set in the French Quarter during the Battle of New Orleans. She also has a short story anthology, DIXIE DARLINGS, available in print. Besides writing she loves music, photography, graphic design, and visiting her favorite historical locales including the French Quarter and the Natchez Trace.
You can visit her website at www.patricia-preston.com
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No man can resist a siren’s song…
Cassie must convince a CEO to give her interior decorating company a chance at his offices in order to stay in the black. But even using her half-siren voice, he refuses. What can she do to change his mind?
Daniel Davis has a secret he’s paid hundreds of thousands to keep that way. Now when exotic Cassie marches into his office, he can’t stop thinking about her and makes her an offer. Be his date for a high-profile party and he’ll consider her company for his office redecorating project.
After an accident, Cassie gives Daniel her blood to heal him. Trouble is, if she can’t keep him alive, he’ll become a soulless ghoul.
Worse, someone is out to kill him. Can Cassie keep him alive…both in fighting her nature and from whoever is after him?
Cassie rummaged through Daniel’s kitchen. Where did he hide the alcohol? The refrigerator was full of Styrofoam and plastic containers, a carton of milk, and… Who puts peanut butter in the fridge? She took it out and placed it on the counter. At least she could have a snack while she searched for a beer. Finding the silverware, she dug out a large spoon and dipped it in the peanut butter. They nutty flavor coated her tongue and she sighed with pleasure. Okay, so cold it tasted it good, but smearing it on bread would be nasty work.
Her mouth pasty and dry, she spotted a cabinet at the far end of the cabinets. A wet bar! She seized a bottle of whiskey and downed most of it as she walked into the living room to check on Daniel.
He lay on his back, his legs dangling over the arm of the couch. Dark circles lined his closed eyes, but his breathing was steady and deep. At least the guy didn’t snore. Was he cold? She picked up a jacket that was draped across a leather chair and, a bottle of alcohol hanging in her hand, she trailed the jacket up and over his legs.
When he grasped her arm, she murmured, “Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you.”
He blinked at her with dilated pupils, his lips full and inches from hers. “Am I dreaming?”
The huskiness of his voice sent a shiver through her.
“Then I can do this.” He stretched his other hand, grasping her behind her head and drawing her lips down to his.
He tasted soft and warm and delicious. Like chocolate and oranges. Moaning against his lips, she let the whiskey slip from her fingers and it rattled onto the wooden floor beside her. Daniel’s hands lifted her further onto the couch, until she was partially straddling him and somewhat kneeling. Hot desire shot through her and she nearly ripped off his clothes.
Her hands weaved into his dark hair. Inside, her siren side called, demanding to satisfy her sexual needs, then devour him. No, she must control this. Couldn’t she for once have love? Have a future with a man that made butterflies dance in her stomach whenever she was around him?
His hands snaked underneath her top and caused her breath to hitch. This was wrong. Oh, but it felt so good as his fingertips brushed across her sensitive nipples, sending delicious tingles throughout her body. She pushed up on her hands, but he teased her with his tongue. His hands kept massaging and causing her to yearn for his touch. For his flesh, for his warm blood to coat her tongue and fill her.
“No!” She tore away from him, falling on her butt. Before he could reach out and touch her again, she scrambled backward until she hit the crystal coffee table. Her teeth weren’t retracting and, if he got too close, her control would break and she’d kill him.
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Lyric: Book 2.5, Claimed series - Kindle edition by Andrea R. Cooper, Covered Creatively. Literature & Fiction Kindle eBooks @ Amazon.com.
Lyric: Book 2.5, Claimed series - Kindle edition by Andrea R. Cooper, Covered Creatively. Download it once and read it on your Kindle device, PC, phones or tablets. Use features like bookmarks, note taking and highlighting while reading Lyric: Book 2.5, Claimed series.
Andrea has always created characters and stories. But it wasn't until she was in her late twenties that she started writing novels.
What happened that ignited the writing flame in her fingers? Divorced, and disillusioned by love songs and stories. They exaggerate. She thought. Love and Romance are not like that in the real world. Then she met her husband and realized, yes love and romance are exactly like the songs and stories say. She is now a happy wife, and a mom to three kids (two boys and a girl).
Andrea writes paranormal and historical romance. When not writing or reading, one may find Andrea dancing in Zumba.
She believes in the power of change and counting each moment as a blessing. But most importantly, she believes in love.
Author Website: www.AndreaRCooper.com
Andrea R. Cooper
Andrea R. Cooper writes contemporary, fantasy, paranormal and historical romance novels.
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Andrea R. Cooper. 2,522 likes · 5 talking about this. Fantasy, Paranormal & Historical Romance Author www.andreaRcooper.com
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The latest Tweets from Andrea R. Cooper (@AndreaRCooper). Author, reader #Romantic suspense #fantasy, #PNR, #historical romance writer #YA author as A.R. Cooper Wife ...
My First Love Blog Post
Take the journey with Leigha Uvari as she becomes a woman, meets her first love, and juggles the big issue of life.
Seeing him, Zain Devold, for the first time as he climbs onto the bus to start at his new school, moving from the big city to this group of small towns and the gated community that holds all the amenities of life.
Leigha is too young to know what love is, all she knows is that he makes her heart skip a beat and she gets weak in the knees. Befriending his sister keeps her close to him. Loving him from afar because she cannot tell him how she feels.
During their budding friendship, he realizes her real intentions. Wanting to lose her virginity to him more than anything. He will not allow it. Finally getting him to express the way he feels about her. Leigha creates this great love affair in her mind, but it's it all in her head?
Then he is gone. Disappeared info the night. No explanation, no note, no phone call. She never learns why they left. Even when she sees their parents coming and going from the house, there is no way Leigha will ask what happened or where the love of her life is? She believes there will never be this profound of a love for another man again.
Nine years later, two children and one failed marriage, Leigha is bartending at one of the taverns in a small town outside of the gated community in which they grew up. Learning of his Mother's death makes her wonder if he will return with the rest of his family.
Sauntering into the tavern, exhausted and full of sorrow, Zain Devold bellies up to the bar to get drunk, chase away the hurt that lives inside from losing his Mother. Leigha comes to take his order. They stare at one another for what seems like an eternity. All of the questions she has must wait. The pain on his face is extremely thick.
As the night goes on and the tavern empties they have time to talk. She closes the joint for the night letting him stay while she cleans. She can't seem to make him leave. Not just yet.
Will Zain finally accept the one thing that Leigha so willingly wanted to give him as teenagers? One night of pure passion, an ecstacy that she knows only he can give her. Or will they leave the past where it belongs? In the past....
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This excerpt from My First Love is how my actual first real kiss happened...
Next thing I know his face is coming toward mine. My first real kiss! Opening my lips, ready to feel his, except his lips are closed, so they go straight into my mouth. Pulling back, completely embarrassed. Zain smiles.
Coming back at me again, I pucker, his lips are open. Mine go straight into his mouth. Totally mortified now, he laughs which makes me laugh.
“One more try,” Zain puts his hand on my cheek, “Open your lips just a little,” Doing as he says, he moves in again.
Our lips meet, and fireworks go off in the room. Zain moves his lips, and I follow his lead. His hand leaves my cheek, going around to my neck, pushing my lips harder into his. Forcing them open further, his tongue slips between them. Our tongues mingle as the kiss deepens, our breath quickens, and our free hands start to roam.
His hand touches me in places that no boy has ever dared. A thumb grazes across my nipple, and my body goes into overdrive. Rolling him over straddling him. Feeling the hard shaft up against my private place, my bottom half starts to move. Didn’t tell it to! Was like my body automatically knew what to do.
Bre is the mother of 2 grown ass boys, grandmother to a beautiful 4 year old girl and another sweet lil girl that she will get to meet in October! So excited!! Bre and Mr. Starr have been together for almost 11 years.... He is a serious pain, but none of this would have happened without him. He knew her dream was to write books for the world to see, he gave her the push and courage to go for it!
Besides reading and writing, she loves music. Can't play an instrument to save her life and her signing voice has gone to hell but that doesn't stop me from singing in the shower or at the top of her lungs in the shower. (Yeah, she dance too :D )
Love is a long journey.
Lisa Benedict needed a date for a bar mitzvah, but when the escort she hired arrives he’s not just good looking, he’s also kind, gentle, and protective. He makes her feel sexy again and she wants to keep him around. But she doesn’t know that the terrible abuse Gale suffered at the hands of one of the Hollywood elite keeps him from being able to trust her no matter how much he wants to.
Gale loved being with Lisa and her sons, but when she put a contract in front of him, he thought she wanted to enslave him as another woman had threatened to. He fled. Months later, with some therapy behind him, he wants to try again. Will she be willing to take him back after the way he stormed out?
And if she does, can he trust her to not reject him when she learns the truth?
“Help me, Gale Wallace. You’re my only hope.”
Gale grinned. “I love that movie.” Too bad they couldn’t stay in tonight and watch it. They could cuddle on the couch, eat popcorn, and repeat their favorite lines. He swallowed. He should not be thinking of his client as a person. It would make the whole date more difficult. But it was impossible not to, especially when she was treating him as an equal.
“Me, too. See, we already have something in common.” She set aside her glass.
“We met at the Starbucks near where you work.”
“Yes, and we ended up chatting.” She patted his knee again.
“About Star Wars.”
She laughed and it was full of joy. "Of course we did. After coffee, we decided to have lunch. My ex had the boys last weekend, so we went to Brandywine on Saturday."
“And you asked me to come with you this weekend.”
“Perfect. I did kind of invite you last Saturday.” She stroked his arm and then yanked her hand away. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to manhandle you.”
“Actually, to sell it, you will want to.” Not entirely true, but Gale was enjoying being touched by her.
“Oh good.” She rested her hand on his forearm again. “I should probably know what you do. I suppose you want to be an actor. You’re good-looking enough.”
“I tell people that I’m a model, but I do want to get into acting. What do you do?”
“I work for ABN in development picking which shows are green lit for production.”
“That sounds important.”
She shrugged. “I guess it would be if I had any power at all.”
If he leaned in right now to kiss her, what would she do? Kiss back? Slap him? Too soon to tell.
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Christa Maurice spends a lot of time lost in imagination. When not writing, she loves to travel and has spent several years living overseas. She spent four years living in Abu Dhabi where the temperature was always hot, the sunrise and sunset were pretty stable year ‘round and she could go weeks without speaking to a man who wasn’t selling her groceries. You know that happens to a woman living in what amounts to a harem situation? She spends a lot of time talking about shoes and thinking about men. Which brings us right back to being lost in imagination.
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Dr. Brianna Scott looked forward to sleeping away her staycation, until a lucky windfall meant an upgrade to palm trees, an ocean view . . . and the sexy Dr. Matt Gaelen. She’ll play and have fun, but can a holiday fling really turn into a soul mate for life? Doubtful.
Matt has no radar for sniffing out gold-diggers and protecting his heart. Until now. Brianna is more turned off than turned on by his wealth. What are his chances of getting her to overlook it? Dubious at best.
Improbable and uncertain, iffy and unlikely – the typical path to love.
Perfectly Skeptical . . . love when you least expect it.
She stopped in her tracks and squealed, almost bumping into a man standing on her porch. He put out his hand to steady her.
“Oh my god, you scared me,” she said, taking a deep breath.
Laughing blue eyes looked back at her. “Sorry about that. I was just about to knock, but you beat me to it.” His eyes swept the length of her. “I was sent to see how you’re doing.”
Brianna stiffened. “I’m fine. Why?” She hadn’t advertised she was going away. Her parents and Maisy were the only ones who knew where she was.
“You haven’t been out and about.”
Who’s keeping tabs? And who would send this dark-haired, all muscle, all-male hunk with the relaxed island smile and disarming blue eyes? Not her parents, that’s for sure. Maisy? It was entirely possible. Maisy’s reach was surprisingly long.
Don’t live a little. Live a lot. Maisy, you’re a cheeky devil, sending a male escort. He looked at her with a patient smile, waiting for her to catch up. Something about a tropical paradise and his sexy bod made her consider. Brianna narrowed her eyes at him. “Are you married?”
“Do you have nail fungus?”
He blinked and his smile faltered. “No. Are you feeling okay?”
“I’m feeling great.” She stepped closer to him. His eyes darkened. He didn’t step away. What the hell – she could play this game. Be cool. Fake nonchalance. Cultivate some of that swagger that came so easily to Maisy. Her heart pounded, but he didn’t need to know.
She went on her toes and brushed her lips against his. When he responded and took control, Brianna felt a tingle from her head to her toes. She pressed closer and felt the hard muscle of his chest through the thin shirt he wore. He caressed the bare skin of her back and skimmed her waist. She opened her mouth to take him deeper and their tongues danced. This wasn’t the kiss of a boy. This was the kiss of experience. Maybe Maisy had it right – if you were going to play, you might as well play with top-of-the-line equipment.
He ran his hands down her arms and then gripped them gently and pushed her away, breaking off the kiss. Brianna raised startled eyes to his and made a noise in protest.
“I’m sorry.” He stepped back, putting more distance between them, and cleared his throat. “I think you have the wrong idea. I’m Matt Gaelen. Dr. Matt Gaelen.” He ran his hand through his hair. “Jerome and Maria were worried because you hadn’t shown up at the restaurant, so they asked me to come and check on you.”
“Jerome and Maria. Owners of the villas?”
Uh-oh. “You weren’t sent by Maisy?”
“No, I don’t know a Maisy.” He grinned. “Though I wish I did.”
She felt a flush rise on her cheeks. So much for living it up. “I’m very sorry,” she said stiffly. “That was a misunderstanding.” She grimaced. “It won’t happen again.” She’d stay well and truly hidden under a rock of mortification.
He raised an eyebrow. “Well, I’m happy to see you’re fine. Better than fine.” He smiled. “I’ll let them know.” He turned and jogged down the steps. And then he stopped and looked back. “But it does seem a shame that it won’t happen again.”
Brianna blew out a breath and watched him go. That wasn’t embarrassing. She cringed. This was precisely why she wanted solitude and privacy. She shook her head at herself and picked up her towel. The light was fading, but she still had time for a quick dip to cool off.
Let that be a lesson learned – well two, really: don’t jump to conclusions, and Dr. Matt Gaelen is an excellent kisser.
Perfectly Skeptical, a Perfectly Series novella, is one of 25 brand new, exclusive romances in the Tropical Tryst boxed set. Escape to the tropics with award winning, USA Today and NYT best-selling authors.
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Linda O’Connor started writing a few years ago when she needed a creative outlet other than subtly rearranging the displays at the local home décor store. It turns out she loves writing romantic comedies and has a few more stories to tell. When not writing, she’s a physician at an Urgent Care Clinic (well, even when she is writing she’s a physician, and it shows up in her stories :D ). She hangs out at www.lindaoconnor.net.
Laugh every day. Love every minute.
Amazon Author Page: http://www.amazon.com/Linda-OConnor/e/B00S7CNLEA