by Lyndi Lamont
Steamy Paranormal Romance
Imagine a world filled with magic, a tormented knight, a damsel in distress, an evil sorcerer...
While picking herbs in the woods, Princess Ilona is rescued from a woodsman by a wolf. When the creature licks her wounds, it is suddenly transformed into a man. A very handsome, very naked man who makes passionate love to her in a glade.
Cursed by an evil wizard, Rolf was trapped in wolf form until he tasted the blood of a royal. Now he must escort the princess on a hazardous journey back to the castle to stop an ill-fated wedding.
Passion flares between them, but both know there is no future for Ilona and her werewolf. Or is there? In a world where magic and passion combine, anything may be possible.
Note: Watch for the sequel Tova’s Dragon, coming later this summer.
She sat frozen, her back to the tree. Oh, gods, don't let it see me. She tried to cast an invisibility spell, but to no avail. The wolf looked at her, golden eyes gleaming, mouth open, showing off large, sharp teeth. She closed her eyes and gripped her throat with both hands. Quaking with terror, she listened as the animal padded toward her. She felt its hot breath on her cheek.
Opening her eyes a slit, she stared into the face of the wolf. Sad eyes stared at her, and her fears receded. Perhaps he'd been tamed. She reached out with what was left of her powers, but sensed no immediate danger. "Good wolf," she stammered.
She held out one shaking fist, and the wolf sniffed it before licking her knuckles. It moved closer, sniffing her clothing. To her surprise, the animal hunkered down beside her and laid its head on her leg. Carefully, she touched it, stroking the soft fur.
Relief flooded through her. Saved by a wolf, of all creatures. "Thank the gods you showed up when you did. I'd no wish to be ravished by the likes of him."
The wolf lifted its head and seemed to smile up at her, mouth open, tongue lolling.
She smiled at the canine as she continued to pet it. "Grateful I am for you rescuing me, but 'tis not exactly what a girl dreams of. Where's my knight on a white steed? 'Tis he who is supposed to do the rescuing."
When the wolf lowered his head, sniffing between her legs, she laughed and pushed it away. "Rude creature."
The animal responded by sitting up and resting its head on her breast. She put both arms around it and hugged it close, dropping a kiss on its head. "Do not misunderstand, Sir Wolf, but I still wish you were a knight. A strong, handsome knight like my Werner."
The familiar sadness filled her at the memory of her husband. "I miss him so much, you know. Dagmar says another knight will come for me, a handsome knight to protect us and make sweet, passionate love to me."
The wolf whined and raised his head to lick her cheek. Laughing, she tried to push him away, but he licked her full on the mouth. She closed her eyes, stunned when her powers came rushing back, like a flood of magic coursing around her.
Turning aside, she summoned her basket to her side. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the wolf jump up, staring at the basket. Her vision seemed to blur as the wolf's face slowly became humanlike, then shifted back. She must have hit her head harder than she'd thought if she was seeing things. She closed her eyes and shook her head, but the aching had receded.
When she peeked again, the wolf was gone, and a naked man crouched in front of her. A handsome, well-built man with shaggy brown hair and golden brown eyes.
Interview with Sir Rolf of Klosterlupe:
Thanks for sitting down with me today, Sir Rolf. I just have a few questions for you. What can you tell us about your birthplace?
All I know is that I was born somewhere in the Kingdom of Velosia. When I was but a small cub, er, lad, my parents dropped me at Klosterlupe where the monks took me in. Apparently small werewolves are unable to control their shifts. People without magic have no idea how to deal with a situation like that. Still, I would like to learn who my people are some day.
What schooling did you have?
I was educated at Klosterlupe, home to the Brotherhood of the wolf, a chivalric order, where I was trained in the knightly arts.
What is your job?
I am a knight in the King’s Guard.
What is your most important goal?
Protecting my princess and her family, of course. I owe her a great debt, not to mention she is the love of my life.
What is your worst fear or nightmare?
Being trapped again in animal form and unable to shift. That was most disconcerting!
Lyndi Lamont is the racy alter ego of romance author Linda McLaughlin. Writing sexy stories gives her a license to be naughty, at least between the pages of her books! She has written several full-length novels plus numerous short stories and novellas, ranging from historical to futuristic. She believes that love is unending and universal, and enjoys transporting her readers into a different world where her characters learn that, in the journey of life, love is the sweetest reward.
Find her online at:
Twitter: @LyndiLamont https://twitter.com/LyndiLamont
A Daring Desire
The Dare Ménage Series, book 4
By Jeanne St. James
Genre: Contemporary Erotic Romance, Ménage, MMF, Interracial
Take two defense attorneys, add one troubled NFL QB who needs them, and what do you get? Hot, sexy conflict.
Gryff Ward made a serious mistake when he hired the hot-as-hell defense attorney Rayne Jordan as an associate in his high-profile legal firm, even though she’s one of the best. Now he’s struggling to keep it professional, especially when she insists on calling him “Boss.”
Rayne’s been attracted to the firm's top attorney ever since her interview. And she’s well aware that calling the conservative man “Boss” drives him crazy…in a very good way.
Add Trey Holloway, their newest client, a troubled NFL quarterback, into the mix. Tension arises when it’s clear that both Gryff and Trey want Rayne and Gryff is willing to fight for her. However, Trey doesn’t hide the fact that he wants Gryff too.
Now Gryff’s having a hard time fighting not only his attraction to Rayne but to another man. Even though he stubbornly refuses to admit his deepest, darkest desires.
Then Rayne takes control. She’s determined to have them both in not only her bed but her life, and she won’t give up until she does.
Note: This book in the series can be read as standalone. It includes an HEA ending. It is intended for audiences over 18 years of age since it includes explicit sexual scenes between all three characters.
Trey knew this might be a bad idea.
A really bad one.
But, he figured it could be worth the risk. Though, last time he was in a bar thinking he would get lucky, he got arrested and then suspended from the team, instead.
And now he was down five hundred grand.
Five. Hundred. Fucking. Grand.
He figured he had two good reasons to cough up that much scratch. One, his career might come to a screeching halt if he didn’t, and two, he needed to hire the best to represent him, who, with any luck, would get his charges dismissed instead of going through a lengthy legal process. Because if they weren’t, it would delay him getting back on the team. And a loss of possibly getting a Super Bowl ring.
He fucking wanted that ring. He could taste it.
Grae Ward said his brother was the best. However, Trey didn’t fork out those ridiculous funds simply because of Gryff and Rayne’s reputation. Though, once he met both of them he knew he wanted no one else.
He wasn’t just talking representation in a court of law. He was talking about his bed. Though, he couldn’t figure out who he wanted more. The hot male attorney with an ass that wouldn’t quit. Or the hot female attorney with an ass that wouldn’t quit.
So, what the hell, why not both? Right?
Right. Though, Gryff probably wouldn’t cooperate with his little plan, even though the man got turned on when Trey “flirted” with him. That reaction left Trey with no doubt that Gryff wasn’t completely against the idea of being with another man. Whether that stubborn guy wanted to admit it or not.
Yeah, there was no mistaking the hard-on Gryff got when he pinned Trey against the wall.
Now, as he sat at the bar surrounded by stale smoke and after-work drinking habits, he questioned his idea of tricking Gryff here to the bar.
He ran a finger down the sweating glass of his Jack and Coke. The one he had only two sips from.
Because he needed to be sober for this.
He’d be a fool otherwise. Plus, he needed to keep his “nose clean” or he’d watch his five hundred G’s go up in smoke. Poof.
The door opened and some fresh air rushed into the dank bar’s interior, reminding the occupants for a split second that there really was a life outside this drinking hole. He had picked this particular place because he hoped no one would recognize him, and if they did, they’d likely leave him alone.
When he first walked in and moseyed up to the bar, eyes had landed on him. Along with looks of recognition and curiosity, he even scored a few chin lifts from some of what looked like regulars. But, so far, no one had violated his personal space.
Even the bartender had left him alone after serving him.
Trey’s eyes tracked the broad, dark man approaching him.
And the guy didn’t look happy. Not pleased at all.
Get it on Amazon for $2.99 for a limited time or FREE on Kindle Unlimited: http://amzn.to/2pTQYpW
About the author:
JEANNE ST. JAMES is a best-selling erotic romance author who loves an Alpha male (or two). She was only thirteen when she started writing since it gave her an escape from teenage angst! Her first paid published piece was an erotic story in Playgirl magazine. Her first erotic romance novel, Banged Up, was published in 2009. She is happily owned by farting French bulldogs. She writes M/F, M/M, and M/M/F ménages. Want to read a sample of her work? Download a sampler book here: BookHip.com/MTQQKK
To keep up with her busy release schedule check her website at www.jeannestjames.com or sign up for her newsletter: http://www.jeannestjames.com/newslettersignup
Find Jeanne here:
Amazon Author Page: http://tinyurl.com/JeanneStJames
Review & Book Crew: https://www.facebook.com/groups/JeannesReviewCrew/
Jake Hargate is a man with a past. Born into a rich and powerful political family in Massachusetts, they were all raised to believe one thing: protect the family's interests at all costs. After leaving that life behind, Jake finds love and happiness married to Max Krause, a Dom, and Ally Renjel, a submissive. Being Max's submissive gives Jake the security he needs, and topping Ally gives him the control he craves.
But when a political scandal threatens to ruin Jake's brother, a prominent governor who hopes to move up the political ladder, Jake is drawn into a dark world of vengeance he swore he'd never enter again. Jake's family gives him a choice: help them or risk the life he cherishes with Max and Ally.
Deciding to do whatever it takes to protect Max and Ally, Jake is drawn into a world of darkness. Will Max and Ally be able to rescue him, or will Jake be lost forever?
Note: This book contains double vaginal penetration.
A Siren Erotic Romance
Lear went to his favorite chair and sat down. He leaned back, crossed one leg over the other, and tapped his fingers on his thigh. If Baldwin’s marriage fell apart, his own life would go to crap. Not only would he be out of a very cushy, well paying job but he’d also lose access to the best pussy he’d had in a long time and the child it produced.
It was better for everyone to keep everything moving forward as planned. And in order to do that they had to make sure the public kept believing that Baldwin and Eleanor were happy and very much in love despite the rumors. Problem was Phoebe Jones was determined to get to the bottom of this affair thing and ferret out the truth.
“Phoebe may be snooping around, but she doesn’t know anything yet.”
“Tell that to my press secretary,” Baldwin said dryly. “She’s been fielding calls from that woman every day. And we’re both tired of it.”
I bet you are. It’s probably because it’s interrupting your fuck sessions.
“Really? I thought you liked having a reporter on your ass day and night.” Lear grinned savoring the little jab. His brother was a namby-pamby, he needed to have a little dirt shoved in his face on occasion.
As Baldwin’s senior adviser, aka crisis manager, it was his job to watch Baldwin’s back at all times. When there was trouble, he handled it. Why this escaped Baldwin’s brain now irked him.
“Fuck you too, Lear.”
“Whatever.” Lear checked his watch. He hoped he’d be able to get the airport early, so they could take off ahead of schedule. He reasoned it wouldn’t matter too much if he was late since he was using Baldwin’s private jet. “Are you done losing your mind? Because I have a job to do so back off and let me do it.”
He pulled the phone away from his ear while his brother yelled and ranted. He rolled his eyes as he waited for his brother’s caterwauling to end.
“Feel better?” Lear asked.
“For now, assuming you do your damn job,” Baldwin said. “How are you going to fix this?”
“Do you really want to know, or do you want to see the result?”
“Of course I want to know,” Baldwin snapped. “That’s why I’m talking to you.”
A smart politician would have said no, preferring to keep his hands clean, but not Baldwin. He was too controlling for his own good. In forty-two years, Baldwin had not changed one bit. He was still as high-handed as ever despite the everyman persona he showed to the public. His arrogant and dictatorial manner was legendary among his staffers and the servants that kept his house in tip top shape.
Lear knew Baldwin thought of him as just another lackey to do his bidding and not a partner in his bid for the White House. If there weren’t bigger things at stake, he would have dropped Baldwin a long time ago, leaving the asshole and his lofty political ambitions far behind.
“I’m going to use Dalcourt,” Lear said.
“What about him?” Baldwin asked.
“He’ll get that reporter and anyone else she’s alerted off of your back,” Lear said. “They’ll be too busy tearing apart his life to even think about you or your...friend.”
“Dalcourt is your big solution? I knew I should have went with Smith.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Lear asked.
“It means it’s a stupid idea. He’s not going to roll over and play dead for you,” Baldwin said.
“Yes he will,” Lear said. My talent is wasted working for him.
“Because he will. God, man you are infuriating. Father always said you had the brain of an ox.”
“I won’t say what he said about you. Mostly because it will piss you off too much and I still need your help.”
Lear sighed. “My God you are a pain in the ass.”
“Are you just going to give that reporter Dalcourt’s name and address and hope for the best?” His tone walked the line between bitterness and incredulity.
“No. A little birdie is going to tell her that I’m leaving town and that it has something to do with this affair thing. Naturally she’ll follow me, I’ll get her to meet me and then I’ll dangle our little brother in her face. The story will be so juicy she’ll have to bite.”
“Why don’t you do that here?” Baldwin asked.
“Dalcourt doesn’t live here. He lives in some dinky town in Wyoming called Wildsage. And I’m luring her to Wyoming to make sure she does her job and latches on to him, there. I can’t risk her getting distracted by you and your antics.”
“What if she refuses to bite and decides to return here?” Baldwin asked. The uncharacteristic fear in his voice was unnerving.
“She won’t. If you knew what I know about Dalcourt, you’d be drooling over this too,” Lear said.
“Finding dirt on Dalcourt is damn near impossible. He’s too shadowy,” Baldwin said. “You have got to tell me what you have on him.”
“I can’t. I’ve already said too much. The less you know about this the better it is for you and me.”
Baldwin laughed even louder. “You think that little pipsqueak scares me?”
“I didn’t say that. It’s my job to make sure your name stays out of these things and that’s what I’m doing.”
“Okay, okay.” Baldwin fell silent. “Once he finds out you that you’ve fucked him, he’s going to be pissed.”
“He won’t find out unless you tell him,” Lear said.
“I’m not going to tell him. But he will find out nevertheless. Doing that sort of thing was his job remember?”
“Okay so what if he does,” Lear said.
“You just need to be prepared.”
“I am because I know how to get him where he hurts,” Lear said.
“What if he manages to get that reporter off his trail?”
“He’ll have no choice but to do what I say if he knows what’s best for him,” Lear said.
“You’re a killer Lear, you know that don’t you.”
“That’s why you have me on your team,” Lear replied.
“Dalcourt’s our brother, why would you even think about doing that to him?” Baldwin asked.
We all have to make sacrifices for the family and it’s time he made his. “Don’t worry about it. I have to go or else I’ll miss my flight. I’ll talk to you later.”
Lear ended the call and glanced at his luggage beside the front door. He checked his watch. He had just enough time to get to the airport, to check in and head to the bar for a drink. He needed a few drinks before he dealt with his younger brother.
Buy Link- Siren Bookstrand- http://www.bookstrand.com/book/bound-to-them
Peyton lives in Michigan where she dreams of summers that aren't so humid. She and her husband have been married for over a decade years and he often lends a helping hand or opinion or two when she's writing a steamy scene.
She loves to travel and hopes to make it to a romance writers convention sometime soon to meet her idols in the genre without getting too much "stalkage" in.
When she is not on the net, she is reading about the life of her latest "book boyfriend" or creating one in her own works. If you'd like to to contact her. Drop her an e-mail. She loves hearing from her fans and admirers.
My Blog: Hot, Sexy and Shared- Erotic Romances by Peyton Brittany Clarke- http://peytonbrittanyclarkewrites.blogspot.com
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
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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…
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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.
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