Grab your favorite beverage, relax, and let me tell you a story…

After Midnight - Black Phoenix #1

Re-edited, revised edition October 2013

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December 30, 2013

Cassie Scot Mystery Series Tour #GF_CassieScot

I would like to welcome Christine Amsden to my blog today. She's here to tell you about her Cassie Scot Mystery Series with a post, excerpt and giveaway! She will be awarding a $50 Amazon or BN GC to one randomly selected commenter.

The hardest part about writing is…

Letting a story go. I'm working on a spin-off sequel to the Cassie Scot series right now – the one for her friend, Madison. The rough draft is finished, but it needs a lot of work. I just heard back from a critiquer whose insights will help me make the story what it needs to be so at the moment I don't have a terrible rough draft. I have a world of possibilities.

At some point in the life of every story, you have to decide it's done. Not that it's perfect – there's no such thing – but that it's done. Your story remains open to scrutiny and critique, only now it's a fixed point. Immutable. With luck, many will love it, but even if they do there will always be a point in the future when you wish you could just go back and tweak this one little thing here.

Letting go is a transition from what may be to what is. And that is the hardest part about writing for me.

Cassie Scot is the ungifted daughter of powerful sorcerers, born between worlds but belonging to neither. At 21, all she wants is to find a place for herself, but earning a living as a private investigator in the shadow of her family’s reputation isn’t easy. When she is pulled into a paranormal investigation, and tempted by a powerful and handsome sorcerer, she will have to decide where she truly belongs.

Cassie Scot, still stinging from her parents’ betrayal, wants out of the magical world. But it isn’t letting her go. Her family is falling apart and despite everything, it looks like she may be the only one who can save them.

To complicate matters, Cassie owes Evan her life, making it difficult for her to deny him anything he really wants. And he wants her. Sparks fly when they team up to find two girls missing from summer camp, but long-buried secrets may ruin their hopes for happiness.

Excerpt ~ Book One

My parents think the longer the name, the more powerful the sorcerer, so they named me Cassandra Morgan Ursula Margaret Scot. You can call me Cassie.

I've been called a lot of things in my life: normal, ordinary, and even a disappointment. After the Harry Potter books came out, a couple of people called me a squib. Since I haven't read them, I have to assume it's a compliment.

Personally, I prefer normal, which is why the sign on my office door reads: Cassie Scot, Normal Detective.

You have to understand that around here, when your last name is Scot, people are easily confused. Not only are my parents powerful practitioners, but I have six talented brothers and sisters. Plus, my family hasn't always been known for its subtlety. When weird stuff happens around here, the people who are willing to believe in magic are prone to suspect the Scots.

The day I opened for business I got a call from an old woman who swore her cat was possessed by the devil. She also swore she'd read my web site, which clearly stated the types of work I did and did not do. Exorcisms were on the No list, and while I hadn't specified pet exorcisms, I would have thought it was implicit.


Award-winning author Christine Amsden has written stories since she was eight, always with a touch of the strange or unusual. She became a “serious” writer in 2003, after attending a boot camp with Orson Scott Card. She finished Touch of Fate shortly afterward, then penned The Immortality Virus, which won two awards. Expect many more titles by this up-and-coming author.

Website: http://christineamsden.com/wordpress/
Blog: http://christineamsden.com/wordpress/?page_id=200
Twitter: https://twitter.com/ChristineAmsden
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Christine-Amsden-Author-Page/127673027288664?ref=hl
Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/1030664.Christine_Amsden
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December 18, 2013

Mistletoe Madness Blog Hop #win

Welcome to my post for the Mistletoe Madness Blog Hop! 

I'm celebrating the hop with a short excerpt from my new release, After Midnight. Here's what it's about and where you can find it! 

 Excerpt from After Midnight:

“I’m not the type of woman men fall for.”

“I’ve fallen for you.”

Heat flooded her system. She forced herself to breathe, to keep her eyes locked with his. “No you haven’t. You …”

He pushed off the mantel and stepped in her direction. “I, what?”

“Never mind.”

“Finish the sentence, Isabeau.”

“I don’t think so.”

“Then let me.” He closed the distance between them. “You were going to say I haven’t fallen for you, weren’t you? You actually believe him? That you’re nothing more to me than convenient?”

Her pulse throbbed thick and hard. Heat radiated off his body. The scent of him filled her head. She wanted, more than anything, to press herself against him and relive the pleasure of his mouth against hers. Instead, she lifted her chin. “Maybe.”

He leaned in close. So close his breath brushed across her lips. “You believe him, but not me?”

“You are here only temporarily.”


“And I am just down the street.”

“I suppose.” She ran her tongue over her dry lips.

“So the whole thing does seem rather—”

“Don’t say it.”


Something dangerous came and went in his eyes. “Now I’m getting angry.”

His hands skimmed down her sides, slipped under her shirt and settled on her lace-covered bottom. Her breath went uneven. Searing need swarmed her.

“You want something to believe, believe this.” He pulled her into the solid ridge of his erection. She lost her concentration. “There is nothing convenient about the way I feel about you.”


“You think you’re not the type to draw a man’s attention, think again. I can’t stand in the same room as you without wanting to taste you. I can’t taste you without wanting to taste all of you.”

Oh, God. Her knees turned to jelly. A hot, wet pulse came to life between her legs.

“If you can’t see in yourself what it is that I see, feel what you do to me.” Taking hold of her wrist, he placed her hand in the center of his chest.

His heart was racing. She tipped her head back and looked into his eyes. Her bones began to liquefy.

“The way you’re looking at me,” she whispered.

“How am I looking at you?”

“Like I’m important.”

“You are.”

She swallowed hard, wanting to believe him. “Like I’m beautiful.”

His lips brushed across her temple and her eyes drifted shut. “I wish you could see yourself the way I see you. Then you would know how beautiful you are.”

Her eyes snapped open as he spun her in his arms. His hands settled on her shoulders, drawing her back against his chest. She gasped at their image reflected in the trio of mirrors that hung on her wall. When had this become a seduction?

"Hot and sweet, with suspense that'll keep you guessing!"
~Laura Kaye on After Midnight 

About After Midnight:

Can music heal the fractured soul? Or will it tear them apart forever? 

Thirteen years — that's how long Isabeau Montgomery has been living a lie. After an automobile accident took her mother's life, Izzy hid herself away, surviving the only way she knew how. Now she is happy in her carefully reconstructed life. That is until he walks through the door of her bar...

Black Phoenix singer/front man Noah Clark came to Long Island City with a goal — one that doesn't include an instant, electric attraction to the dark-haired beauty behind the bar. Coaxing her into his bed won't be easy, but he can't get her pale, haunted eyes nor her skill on the piano out of his head.

Can Noah help Isabeau overcome the past? Or will her need to protect her secret force her back into hiding and destroy their chance at happiness?

Buy at

For visiting with me today I am giving away:
$5 Amazon or B and N Gift Card
A Music Note Ornament

Thanks for stopping by!

And Don't forget to visit the main hop page to enter the Rafflecopter Giveaway! http://pjschnyder.com/blog/contests/

December 17, 2013

Welcome Guest Blogger Patricia Rosemoor

Holiday Memories

Authors draw on their own experiences, their memories, their desire to give their stories an authentic edge.

Not that I’ve ever run across a dead Santa Claus as does my heroine in HOLIDAY IN CRIMSON...

Crawling around to see what had tripped her, Shelby froze, the breath caught in her throat.
“Oh, Lord!” she croaked hoarsely, unwilling to believe her eyes. For before her, the Christmas lights danced across a ludicrous scene: Santa Claus lay sprawled on his back next to her, eyes open and staring, mouth slack behind the fake beard and mustache. “Hey, Santa, wake up.” 

But of course, Santa doesn’t...

So what about HOLIDAY IN CRIMSON comes from my own experiences?

As a child, I used to look forward to the day when Mom would take me to downtown Chicago to see the holiday windows. My favorites were always windows at the iconic Marshall Field’s, a department store that took up a whole block on State Street. The windows always told a story that captivated me. So in wanting to tell a holiday story, I immediately thought about a department store and a heroine who was in charge of the windows.

That isn’t the only thing about Shelby that comes from my past memories. Shelby lived in my first apartment in the city. Her love of the holiday came from me. She buys one special new ornament each year, so that she has a tree of memories. I used to do that with my husband Edward until a few years ago when I stopped having trees. Now I have lights and wreathes and special ornaments that I hang in the windows.

A really special memory is the scene where Shelby and Rand get to know each other better while cross-country skiing. That was taken from my own experience. Neither Edward nor I had ever been on cross-country skis before. But that year, they did indeed rent them out in Lincoln Park, and we had a huge snowfall. We were terrible at it. I kept breaking through the snow crust and getting stuck with a ski two feet below the surface. I remember having to take off the ski and let Edward help me get it back on. It was an exhausting day. And a magical one. And I had great fun using it in this story.

What makes Christmas magic for you?
Share a holiday memory...

With 95 novels and 7 million books in print, New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Patricia Rosemoor is fascinated with "dangerous love" – combining romance with danger. She has won a Golden Heart from Romance Writers of America and two Reviewers Choice and two Career Achievement Awards from RT BOOKreviews, and in her other life, she teaches Popular Fiction and Suspense-Thriller Writing, credit courses at Columbia College Chicago.

You’ll find Patricia at   Website | Twitter | Facebook | Goodreads


In Holiday in Crimson

Westbrook Department Store’s Christmas party wasn’t that wild–but Santa ended up dead! Window designer Shelby Corbin suddenly finds herself the prime suspect in his murder. CEO Rand McNabb’s romantic attentions both thrill her and frighten her. Is Westbrook’s impossibly sexy co-owner really helping Shelby search for the truth about that fatal night? Or does Rand have a deadlier motive for courting the only possible witness to the crime…

In Nightmare in Crimson

Last holiday, Pippa McNabb’s faithless husband was found murdered in a Santa suit after a Christmas party. Another year, another Christmas party, and another dead Santa – this time, run down by eight tiny reindeer and a sleigh. And this time, Pippa is the prime suspect. Sexy sleigh driver Sky Thornton seems intent on helping her, but is the man who knows too much about her really trying to clear her name, or is he trying to frame her for a murder he committed?

Amazon | Barnes and Noble | Kobo Books | iTunes

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December 14, 2013

Character Quickie: Einstein Senta Augustus Sinclair

20 quickie facts about Einstein Senta Augustus Sinclair: 

Birthday? Not sure. I consider it the day my mistress, Becca Sinclair, brought me home two years ago.
Favorite color? Tan…the color of doggie treats.
Nickname? Bad Dog.
What breed are you? I’m a purebred German shepherd.
Have you been neutered? (Slaps paw over eyes) Yes, it was the worst experience of my life! (Shows one dark eye) Psych! Fooled ya! I was totally out of it, so it was no biggie.
City of residence? Clearwater Beach, Florida
If you were a jelly bean flavor, what flavor would you be? Pepperoni
Occupation? Taking care of Becca.
Hobbies? Getting in her underwear drawer and stealing her thongs.
Favorite song? “Who Let the Dogs Out”
Name one item in your freezer right now? Doggie ice cream treats.
Your greatest fear? Traffic. It can be a bitch.
Most treasured possession? My mistress. She knows how to take care of a dog—love, food, water, exercise, daily grooming—did I mention love?
Special talent? Getting Wolf’s attention by giving him a pair of Becca’s thongs.
Cat or dog? Huh? You’re asking me that? Wolf’s got a cat. (growls deep in throat) Fluffy. (pardon me while I get the taste of the critter’s name out of my mouth. Leans down and licks balls).
Pet peeve? People who don’t love their pets the way I’ve been loved.
Unforgettable moment? The day Wolf carried Becca into our house after she’d broken her nose. I knew then he’d be our alpha.
Dry or canned food? Dry, with canned as a treat.
Favorite guilty pleasure? Pepperoni off Wolf’s pizza. Becca pretends not to notice when he slips me a slice or four.
If you could ask your author one question, what would it be? If she’s going to write a sequel with Cassie and Quinn, will I be in it too?

Einstein is a secondary character in Vonnie Davis's humorous new release, SANTA WORE LEATHERS

Santa Wore Leathers is available now:
AMAZON ~ http://bit.ly/SantaLeathers
BARNES and NOBLE ~ http://bit.ly/1846Aau

December 12, 2013

Candra's Freedom by AJ Nuest


Candra's Freedom, Book II
The Golden Key Chronicles

The key would unlock his future,
and the safety of his kingdom,
but he never imagined the sorceress
would unlock his heart...

Lost in a world she doesn't recognize, Rowena struggles to find her place. Yet her abilities with a blade and the loyalty of a fierce falcon don't discourage the heated advances of the handsome Prince Caedmon, and the connection between them seems much deeper than her troubled heart can recall.

If you are still in love with the Disney princes of your youth, and wish one would show up in your bedroom late at night, then you will love this breathtaking fantasy romance series from AJ Nuest!

~ * ~
Water rained down his body. His sodden shirt clung to each sharply defined muscle in his chest, his leather pants glued to the contours of his rigid thighs. Her heart tripped a beat at the magnitude of sheer, gritty determination forged in the scowl on his brow.

Prince Caedmon was a man on a mission. That was a nice idea for a change.

He finally made landfall, fisted his hands and increased his pace. A few trumpeters blew a half-hearted attempt at announcing his arrival, but their notes blurted like a fat man’s flatulence and faded listlessly in the air. Some people knelt, others remained standing, and several bobbed like apples in a rain barrel, unsure which action to take.

Another victory at denouncing their absurd rituals. Rowena chuckled under her breath. Bravo, sir. Well done.

He locked onto her and she grinned, even when his penetrating stare pierced her like an arrow and he clenched his scruffy jaw. The real icing on the cake would be if he ignored his father. But no, that would never happen. Even as the thought occurred, Prince Caedmon strode straight for King Austiere’s open arms.

Except…wait a second. He wasn’t heading for his father. He marched straight for her.

Oh no…

All the amusement fled her body. She glanced left, then right before meeting his formidable gaze a second time. Of course. Distracted by his gallant swim to shore, she’d forgotten. His dismissal of the pageantry didn’t have anything to do with defiance. He thought them still engaged.

She withdrew a step, but her shoulder blades bounced off the front of Marcelene's ample bosom. Dammit! Pressed inside the crowd, no other escape route was available. And time was quickly running out. Her pulse leapt and her fingertips tingled as if she'd touched Fandorn's lightning catcher. She couldn't seem to draw any air. Great tits above, what was the man planning to do?

~ * ~

Praise for Rowena's Key,
Book I in The Golden Key Chronicles

Love Reading Romance calls Rowena's Key "an enchanting fairy tale for adults!"
Cosmochicklitan says Rowena's Key is a "must read!"

The author slowly leads Rowena and Caedmon into love, so slowly and sweetly it's romantic and classic...and breathtaking. I cannot wait for the second installment of this series. 5 Stars

It was like watching a Cinderella story come to life. Or living one. 5 Stars

Like the best fairy tales, Rowena’s Key captures the imagination and the heart with a bonus undercurrent of spicy romance. 5 Stars

With all the components of a star crossed lovers story, Rowena's Key is a genuine Romance. A.J. Nuest pulls the reader into fantasy alongside Rowena with a realness that will have you hopeful, teary eyed and longing for the next installment. 5 Stars

You need to realize this is a novella, because you will get to the end of this story and be desperate for more. Thankfully, HarperImpulse is releasing each novella in this series in month by month installments, so we don’t have long to wait for the next development of Rowena and Caedmon’s fantasy romance. 5 Stars

The Golden Key Chronicles Release Schedule:

Rowena’s Key:  November 7, 2013
Candra’s Freedom: December 12, 2013
Caedmon’s Curse: January 9, 2014
Braedric’s Bane: February 13, 2014

AJ is a multi-published, award-winning author who lives in the middle of a cornfield in NW Indiana. Her loving husband, two beautiful children and a bevy of spoiled pets have agreed to stay and, in exchange for three rations per day and laundry service, tolerate her lunacy. While she spends most days happily ensconced in crafting romance across a multitude of genres, an underground coup has been percolating. The dogs just informed her the cat is secretly vying for dictatorship.

Website:  http://ajnuest.com
Blog:  http://ajbooks.blogspot.com
Email:  ajnuest@yahoo.com
FaceBook Page:  https://www.facebook.com/amyjo.nuest
Author FB Page:  https://www.facebook.com/amyjo.nuest#!/pages/Tattered-Pages/259835887466
Twitter:  @AJNuest

December 7, 2013

Character Quickie: Richelle Quaid

20 quickie facts about Richelle Quaid: 

Birthday? July 20, 1873
Favorite color? Emerald green
Nickname? None I’ll respond to
Birthmark or scars? Scar across right knee
Siblings? Three older brothers
City of residence? Dry Creek, Montana
If you were a jelly bean flavor, what flavor would you be? Refreshing lemon
Occupation? Daughter of rancher
Hobbies? Attending suffrage lectures
Favorite song? “The Band Played On”
Name one item in your icebox right now. divinity
Your greatest fear? Living an uninspiring life
Most treasured possession? My copy of History of Woman’s Suffrage, Volume 1
Special talent? I’m an excellent bicyclist.
Cat or dog? Love kittens
Pet peeve? People who want me to act proper.
Unforgettable moment? Attending a lecture presented by Susan B. Anthony
Spicy or not? not
Favorite guilty pleasure? Reading adventure tales by James Fenimore Cooper
If you could ask your author one question, what would it be? Why did you place me in such a small town with none sympathetic to women’s suffrage? 

Richelle is the heroine of Wishes On A Star, included in Sweetwater Springs Christmas, a western historical anthology by 11 authors.  

Sweetwater Springs Christmas is available now at AMAZON: http://amzn.com/B00G06W3SA


December 4, 2013

Writer Wednesday: Vonnie Davis

Thanks for having me here today, Sarah. Someone recently asked me how I’d describe myself. I think I’m like a freshly baked French croissant: warm, crusty, wrinkled and flaky. Best served with strong coffee. My writing is often flaky, too. You know how I love to laugh, how I enjoy infusing humor into my stories. The world is too full of sadness, misery and snarky people. I adore kindness and laughter. While my characters aren’t always kind, they do have their humorous moments.

Writing humor isn’t always easy. What strikes me as hilarious might fly right over your head. I have an off-the-wall sense of humor that isn’t shared by everyone and that’s okay. We don’t all want to be alike, do we? I mean, imagine a world full of Vonnie Davis clones. Yikes!

So I have to use a light hand at writing humor. Sometimes, in editing, I tone it down a couple notches. I grew up in the era of slapstick comedy, so some scenes play out in my head like a comedy routine. Take my heroine’s carrying in a large box of ready-to-assemble bookshelves in my Christmas novella, Santa Wore Leathers.

She untied the rope securing her trunk lid over the long box and contemplated the best way to remove the carton and get it inside to her living room. How difficult could it be? She wrapped an arm around the box and pulled, hoping to hug it to her side.
It barely budged. Crap!

Shoving the sleeves of her sweatshirt to her elbows, she put every ounce of strength into the job. She tugged and pulled enough of the carton out of the trunk to allow gravity to upend it onto the street. Then she straightened, shifted her shoulders and used her sleeve to swipe the perspiration from her forehead.

She bent at the knees, put her shoulder to it and lifted the heavy item on an exhale and a loud grunt. Becca staggered under the weight across her shoulder. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. The unmanageable carton weaved her back and forth. For a few seconds, all she could do was stagger.

She made it up the step of the curb to the sidewalk, nearly dropping to her knees with the effort. Thigh muscles quivering with the strain of the weight, she gritted her teeth. “Come on, Becca, you can do this.”

Thank goodness the walkway was only twelve feet long. She tried not to think of the three steps to her porch. Maybe she could drag or push the box up the steps—if she reached them under all this weight.

A loud rumble roared down the street, and her stomach clenched at the familiar sound. Wolf’s Harley eased to the curb.

“Becca! Don’t. I’ll carry that in for you.”

She pivoted to tell him she didn’t need or want his help. The sudden movement threw her load off balance. Arms clasped around the box, she fell backwards and her spine slammed on the hard ground. Air whooshed from her lungs on impact. A loud pop sounded as the box thudded across her face. Pain exploded in her nose and head.

“Becca! My God.” A set of thick male knees pushed into her side. “Here, let me get this off you.” Wolf shoved the box away as if it were no heavier than a bag of tinsel. “Give me a chance to get this helmet off.” Leather rustled and squeaked.

Wet warmth flowed over her lips.

“Oh, sweetheart, looks like your nose is broken.” Strong fingers moved from the bridge of her nose to its tip. The pain made her eyes cross. “Hold on. Let me get my first-aid kit.”

His heat disappeared and running footfalls sounded on his porch. Slowly the spinning stopped, and she blinked to bring the world back into focus. Was her face smashed? She gingerly fingered her forehead, nose and cheeks and grimaced when she pulled back a blood-covered hand.

Einstein was barking like crazy from inside her town house. Bless his canine heart, he knew she needed him.

Wolf settled on his knees beside her again. “Some people bleed more than others when their noses break. Don’t be alarmed.” His voice was calm and authoritative as he snapped on latex gloves. Cool alcohol wipes were gently pressed across her face.

“Ith my noth broken?” My God, was that her voice? Why was she speaking with a lisp?

He shined a light in her eyes. “Good retina response.” Chocolate eyes lowered to within inches of hers, minty breath swept across her face and a lock of dark hair fell across his forehead. The corners of his mouth twitched as if he were trying not to smile. “And, yes, sweetheart, your noth is broken. I’ll do my best to set it so it’s still pretty and straight.”

“Thet it? No!”

Einstein’s barking and whining increased. No doubt he sensed her anxiety.

Wolf gave a nonchalant shrug. “Set might be an extreme word. I’m just going to make sure it’s straight.”

“Are you two at it again?” Mrs. Minelli’s orthopedic shoes came into view. “Oh no! She’s bleeding! Shall I call an ambulance? I can press the button on my senior alert necklace.” She held out a medical medallion strung on a silver chain around her neck. Today, her sweatshirt bore a Christmas tree design with lights that somehow twinkled on and off.

“Thanks, Mrs. Minelli, but I’ve got it covered. I’ll stop the bleeding and carry her inside.”

“What happened?” The elderly woman tapped his side with her cane. “Did you belt her’ cause she wouldn’t get frisky with you?”

Wolf’s hands stilled and he exhaled an audible sigh fluttering the hair at Becca’s temple. His tension was palpable. Under his breath, he muttered, “God, just give me some frickin’ patience here.” Then he aimed his thousand watt smile at the older lady and told her what had happened.

“Well, okay then. I was just going to hitch a ride with Mrs. Bernstein to water aerobics. We broads need to keep our girlish figures. Becca, darlin’, I’ll check in on you tomorrow.”

“Thank you.” Her words trailed after the tottering old woman, her cane tapping as she meandered down the sidewalk.

Wolf’s fingertips firmly pressed into her nose and more stars exploded behind her eyes.

“Don’t touch my broken noth.” She batted away his hands.

“Do you want to be called ‘witch’s beak’ for the rest of your life?”

“Witheth beak? Ith it that bad?” What would her coworkers at the paper think? Still, did this yay-hoo know what he was doing? “If my noth needth thet, I want a profethenal to thet it.”

He tore open a paper packet and removed two gauze cylinders. “I had advanced corpsman training in the Navy before I was recommended for the SEALs. Believe me, I’ve handled worse than a broken nose.”

Wolf shoved the gauze up her nostrils.

More fireworks exploded in her head.

“Ow! You big thithead. You hurt me on purpoth.” Her one hand tightened in a fist. If he hurt her again, she was going to belt him.

Those brown eyes of his held humor. “Thithead? We hardly know each other well enough for such intimacies.” He smiled and tilted his head. “Although, I am getting pretty familiar with your taste in underwear. Einstein left a pair of purple thongs beside my ladder the day I fell off and leopard print thongs at my back door yesterday.”

“Oh, no,” she groaned. She’d never had trouble with her dog running off until this man moved in next door. She could see why a woman might chase after Wolf—an enticing blend of macho, good looks and an unexpected measure of gentleness—but why was her dog so damned attracted to him? And just why was her dog so suddenly set on stealing her underwear?

“What did you do with my thongs? You never brought them back.”

“Tied them to the handle grips of my Harley.” He jerked his thumb over his shoulder.

“You what!” She would kill him.

His head leaned back as deep laughter erupted. “Don’t get riled, sweetheart.” His eyes bore humor and something akin to affection.  

That damn box must have broken my mind.

“Thop calling me ‘threatheart.’”

“Can't.” His fingers were more gentle on her face now. “It's part of my plan. Maybe if I keep calling you sweetheart, you'll start getting sweet on me.”

“Cold day in hell, buthter.”  


There’s only one thing on Becca Sinclair’s Christmas list this holiday season – her very own column in the local paper. And if she can build a huge blog following, her wish just might come true.

Enter Dan “Wolf” Wolford aka the man-whore next door and the new star of Becca’s popular, post-divorce blog about men. A Navy SEAL turned commander of the Florida Marine Rescue Unit, Wolf’s the very definition of the word alpha – and with an endless rotation of women on his doorstep, this hunk on a Harley has Becca and her female followers all hot and bothered!

All Becca wants for Christmas is her newspaper column, right? But when she finds herself the target of Wolf’s irresistible attentions, her snarky comebacks become less and less convincing and, suddenly, she’s not so sure anymore…


AMAZON ~ http://bit.ly/SantaLeathers
BARNES and NOBLE ~ http://bit.ly/1846Aau

Please visit me at my blog: http://www.vintagevonnie.blogspot.com
Or follow me on Facebook: Vonnie Davis.
I tweet under @VonnieWrites, if you care to follow me in the twitterverse.

Psst, Sarah here. Before you go I thought I would share with you one more photo Vonnie sent me. This one is how she imagines Wolf, hero of SANTA WORE LEATHERS, to look. And because I', all about sharing...well, here he is. You're welcome. ;)

December 2, 2013

Welcome Guest Blogger, Inara Scott

Today I have contemporary romance author, Inara Scott visiting. Inara is touring for her new release, FALLING FOR MR WRONG and is sharing a little about her love of eBooks. She will also be giving away one eCopy of her book RULES OF NEGOTIATION and one eCopy of THE BOSS'S FAKE FIANCE so make sure to scroll down and enter the giveaway using the Rafflecopter link.

Why I love E-Books ~ Inara Scott

There are a lot of authors (and publishers) who aren’t fans of e-books. They worry that e-books will mean the end of traditional books. They don’t like holding a Kindle—they want real paper. You can’t autograph an e-book, they say. And don’t even get started on the piracy issues! Ug!

But here’s what I love about e-books. First, the market for new authors and new books has opened up exponentially in the past few years, thanks to e-books and self-publishing. When I go on Amazon to browse for a book, I’ve got thousands of options. If I read romance, I’m not limited to only the most popular authors and genres. I can find just about any kind of book or any kind of author, from male/male romance to historical romances set in just about any country or time period. I can find protagonists of any age and race. And no, they aren’t all good. There’s a lot of awful out there. But I’d rather a marketplace crowded with choice and varying quality than one in which a few publishers are the gatekeepers who decide what small number of books end up on the shelves every year.

E-books make novellas possible. Sometimes you don’t want an entire book, but you want more than a short story. With print publishing, you rarely had an opportunity to read these “almost” novels, because there wasn’t any good way to get them to readers. Now, every author is putting out shorter works between their novels, giving readers glimpses into the lives of secondary characters, or filling in the “what comes next?” questions for readers.

E-books give me an e-reader full of choices. With books at lower price points (yay $2.99!) I am more likely to take a chance on a new author or buy a book that hasn’t been a big bestseller. I can fill up my e-reader before a vacation and take fifteen or twenty new titles, instead of one or two. I can take a long bath and browse in a bookstore at the same time.

I still have shelves full of print books. They’re never going away, at least not for me. But I’m not one of those authors who fears digital books and the way they are changing publishing. If you ask me, the more the better.

Looking for Mrs. Right… 

Single father of three, Ross Bencher, knows the kind of woman he wants: someone predictable, reliable, and safe, who can give his kids the security they deserve. Someone entirely different from high-altitude mountaineer Kelsey. Kelsey bewitches him with her long legs and wild passion and is about as far from his ideal as a woman can get, but try telling that to his body. Or his heart… 

Falling for Mr. Wrong… 

When Kelsey agreed to fill in as a temporary nanny for her best friend’s agency before a big climbing expedition, she had no idea she’d be working for drop-dead sexy Ross Bencher, a man she can’t seem to keep her hands off. She knows if she wants to bring herself—and her father—back alive from the Himalayan Mountains, she can’t afford second-guessing, attachments, or distractions. But Ross’s blue eyes and strong hands leave her gasping…and questioning everything she’s ever known about love… 


“Ross,” she said, swallowing hard to clear the lump from her throat. “I realize I’m not the traditional nanny, and I know I was your last choice for a babysitter. But I can’t do this anymore.”

His gaze flickered from her mouth to her throat.

Her bones began to melt. All at once, her skin seemed to tighten, and her stomach began to fall as her brain fogged over.

He shook his head. “You’re absolutely right. I can’t keep doing this, either.”

“What?” She narrowed her gaze suspiciously.

“Looking at you.” His voice dropped. “Staring at your lips. And wondering if they can possibly taste as good I remember.”

Genre: Contemporary
Romance Length: 200 pages
Release Date: November 2013
ISBN: 978-1-62266-289-0
Imprint: Indulgence

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November 26, 2013

Q & A with Laura Kaye and #HardAsItGets

HARD AS IT GETS is one steamy read! How did you first get into writing?

Thanks so much! And thanks for having me here, Sarah! I’ve been a writer all my life. I’m a historian by training, so writing non-fiction was a part of my job for the fifteen years I worked as a college professor. But I started writing fiction in 2008 in kind of an unusual way. I hit my head on July 4, 2008. I didn’t think much of it that day, but soon after I realized I’d really hurt myself, and it turned out I had a minor traumatic brain injury. As I recovered, I was filled with an amazing urge to be creative, so I started taking guitar lessons (still not very good at that!) and wrote my first novel in 12 weeks (fortunately, I’m better at that LOL!). The experience of writing that first book was truly transformative. It was what I was supposed to be doing, so I revised that book until it sold and kept writing new ones. And I haven’t looked back since!

Why did you choose to write romance?

I had been an avid reader of paranormal romance for years at that point, so I wrote what I loved. But I also picked romance—unconsciously, I think—because to me it’s an incredibly hopeful genre. Romance stories are inherently stories about people who can’t find love or think they don’t deserve it who overcome the odds and find it in the end. In the years leading up to starting writing, I experienced a number of very hard personal losses, so writing in this genre was one way I worked through those issues.

What does “Hard Ink” refer to? What importance do tattoos play in your story?

Hard Ink is the name of the Rixey brothers’ tattoo shop in the Hard Ink series. Nick and Jeremy Rixey are co-owners, though Nick (the hero of book one, Hard As It Gets) prefers to be more of a silent partner, despite Jeremy’s efforts to put Nick’s artistic talents to work. In this series, tattoos are a way people remember, pay penance, or highlight what’s important to them. The act of creating permanent marks on skin has deep meaning to them. And the shop creates a gritty setting where diverse kinds of people meet and interact in the series. I really love it!

Describe Becca—what do you love most about her? And Nick? 

I’d love to! Because I really loved writing these characters!

Becca Merritt is smart and strong and honest and protective. I really loved the way she was willing to stand up for those she loves, even against people and forces who might be stronger and even a little scary. There’s a scene in particular when she dresses down Nick’s Special Forces teammates after a fist fight where I was particularly cheering for her! LOL

Nick Rixey is, omg, so freaking hot, you guys! He’s brooding and tortured and honorable and when he falls he falls so hard. I especially loved Nick’s mix of hard, alpha edges with his artistic side. When Nick shows Becca what her idea for a tattoo might look like on her skin, it’s just scorching!

What significance does the military play in the book?

Military themes are central to the whole Hard Ink series. The military isn’t just sexy window dressing nor is it just there to provide an intriguing backstory. The prior SF guys are this series are entirely defined by their military experience good and bad. It informs their identity, their sense of honor and duty, their view of the world, and of course gives them the skill set required to fight the battles they face in the series. The overall series mystery the characters are working to solve revolves around a military conspiracy in Afghanistan, so even though they’re out of the Army, the military themes are central.

If you could describe your book in a 140 character tweet, what would it be? 

In #HardAsItGets, an ex-soldier joins forces w/his dead commander's daughter to regain his tarnished honor & save her brother from a gang

Is there a particular author or book that has influenced your writing? 

There are a number of authors that have influenced me, but if I had to pick one it would be J.R. Ward. A lot of what I know about how to write sexy, authentic male point of view comes from reading her books. And I definitely learned the importance of a good bromance to a romance novel from her Black Dagger Brotherhood series, too. Given my ginormous fangirling, you can only imagine how flipping excited I was when this happened:

“Edgy, sexy, and full of suspense! A great read from a great new author!” 
~J.R. Ward on Hard As It Gets 

You guys, I bawled like a baby in the middle of a huge workshop put on by my publisher. For real. LOL

What advice would you give aspiring writers looking to get into the publishing industry?

Here’s my advice:

1) Write, write, write. You can’t revise what you haven’t written and you can’t sell what you haven’t written. And the psychological and emotional boost you’ll get from writing “The End” for the first time cannot be overestimated.
2) Revise, revise, revise. That first time you type “The End”? Yeah, you’re nowhere near done. Your book will need to be edited, by you, several times before you ever put it in front of an agent or editor. You get one shot with them, so don’t waste it by not showing them your very best and most polished work.
3) Find critique partners. And your mom, siblings, and best friend do not count (unless you’re really lucky, like me, and your best friend happens t also be a professional author). You need other aspiring writers in your genre who will give you honest but constructive feedback about how to improve your manuscript. Let them catch all the embarrassing goofs and plot holes you thought you caught before it gets to an agent or editor.
4) Want to be a professional, then act it. And by that I mean join the professional organization(s) of the genre in which you write. Through them you will find classes to help hone your craft, critique partner match-ups, networking opportunities, calls for submission, and other opportunities invaluable to breaking into publishing.
5) Don’t give up. You will hear way more no’s than yeses, particularly early in your writing career. Stick with it. Believe in yourself. Give yourself one day to wallow in the rejection and eat a bunch of chocolate and then get right back on the horse. If your first book doesn’t sell, chalk that up to learning and write a second.

What can fans of HARD AS IT GETS look forward to next? 

I’m currently writing four series: two contemporary (Hard Ink, Heroes) and two paranormal (Hearts of the Anemoi, Vampire Warrior Kings). I’ll have books from all four of those releasing in 2014. My next release is Hard As You Can (Hard Ink #2) coming 2/25/14!

About Hard As It Gets: 

Five dishonored soldiers.
Former Special Forces.
One last mission.
These are the men of Hard Ink. 

Tall, dark, and lethal...

Trouble just walked into Nicholas Rixey's tattoo parlor. Becca Merritt is warm, sexy, wholesome--pure temptation to a very jaded Nick. He's left his military life behind to become co-owner of Hard Ink Tattoo, but Becca is his ex-commander's daughter. Loyalty won't let him turn her away. Lust has plenty to do with it too.

With her brother presumed kidnapped, Becca needs Nick. She just wasn't expecting to want him so much. As their investigation turns into all-out war with an organized crime ring, only Nick can protect her. And only Becca can heal the scars no one else sees.

Desire is the easy part. Love is as hard as it gets. Good thing Nick is always up for a challenge...

Read Chapter 1 of Hard As It Gets
Buy at Amazon | Barnes and Noble | iTunes 

About Laura Kaye:

Laura is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of over a dozen books in contemporary and paranormal romance. Growing up, Laura’s large extended family believed in the supernatural, and family lore involving angels, ghosts, and evil-eye curses cemented in Laura a life-long fascination with storytelling and all things paranormal. She lives in Maryland with her husband, two daughters, and cute-but-bad dog, and appreciates her view of the Chesapeake Bay every day.


November 18, 2013

The Key

Story ideas come to me all the time, in many different ways. Sometimes it’s when a character pulls up a chair in my head and begins talking to me, and sometimes, it’s in a dream. The first time I wrote about a young woman and a rock singer (many, MANY years ago) their names were Emma and Joseph and their story came to me in a dream. Although I fell hard for both of these characters, it was apparent right from the beginning that theirs was a story I could never share. Why? Because romance books just didn’t feature heroines with inoperable brain tumors.

I love their story so much…a tale full of pain and happiness, strength and weakness. The story of a woman who dreams of a key – a key to heaven, or so she believes. Turns out it was a key to her future.

The story played out like a movie, from start to finish – one of the most detailed and complicated dreams I’ve ever had. At the end, there was Emma, reading from a journal she had kept through it all. From her initial diagnosis to her first meeting with Joe, from leaving him to their happily-ever-after. A highlight reel of sorts: the good and the bad moments. And so that is how I began writing their story – in a series of journal entries:

September 1

I dreamt of an angel last night. An angel of fair skin and long auburn hair with a white gown made of delicate lace and wings that took my breath. Her arm was stretched out before her, a key dangled from her fingers. Not a car or a house key. Not a key of gold or fancy jewels. A silver key about an inch in length and of plain design. A simplified skeleton key.

I awoke before I could take her offering and immediately began to sketch my angel. To capture on paper the image so clear in my mind. But somehow I have lost the memory of her face – the angle of her cheeks or the shape of her lips – and only that key remains. That silver, uncomplicated form hanging from a basic chain. Why was she offering it to me? What did it represent? I’m afraid to speculate, for deep down, I believe I know what she was offering me.

I saw my oncologist yesterday. My treatment isn’t working, just prolonging the inevitable. And so I made the decision to opt out of further treatment and accept my fate. Then I dreamt of an angel, and a key.

This story lives with me still today. Enough that I have a key collection that began after my dream: skeleton keys, charms of keys and my favorite, a sterling silver key necklace. It comes back to me at the oddest moments, at least once every year. One day perhaps I will finish writing it down. Maybe then I can let it go. Maybe not. It’s hard to say why some things stick with us through the years. Perhaps it was that like Emma, I felt as if that angel was offering the key to me.

November 17, 2013

It's HERE!

The revised edition of my contemporary romance, AFTER MIDNIGHT is here!

Here's my sexy new cover and a tease:

He leaned into her. “If you still want me to stay away from you, you’d better tell me now.”



“Kiss me.”

She didn’t have to ask twice. He dipped his head, settled his lips on hers and plundered. He dragged her against him, and drank in the hot, potent taste of her as he fed on her mouth like a starving man.

She softened, a tiny sound of passion slipping up her throat—an urgent invitation. His pulse leaped. So did other parts of his anatomy. Her fingers burrowed through his hair.

He deepened the kiss, stroking his hands down the sides of her body to settle on her hips. He used them to guide her as he stepped forward once, twice, until her back settled against the trunk of the maple. Awash in the smell of her, the feel of her, he pressed closer, until no space existed between them. Her breasts flattened against his chest, her hips arched into him. Heat from her body flowed into his, sparking a fire. His heartbeat echoed in his head.

AVAILABLE NOW - at a new low price $2.99

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Come dish about Noah, Dominic, Nick and Alex!
Readers in the series groups are the first to find out new release dates and are often treated to exclusive content relating to each series.

November 5, 2013

Hopeless by @authorKeriNeal #blogtour

HOPELESS by Keri Neal

Genre: Young Adult Paranormal Romance 
Release date: November 1, 2013 
ISBN: 1492272221 
ISBN13: 978-1492272229


On her seventeenth birthday, Jade is filled with hope for the future. She and her boyfriend Pen are in love, she is finishing her final year of high school, and she is finally safe from the Fallen, who wanted her blood to fulfill an age-old prophesy. Pen is not as comfortable with the truce they made to protect her, so he makes a new deal with the Arches and leaves Jade alone. 

But not for long. 

A new Guardian is assigned to protect Jade. Blake is rude and offensive, his methods unconventional. Because of his dedication to her she trusts him with her life. Best of all, he knows about the Surge—her telekinetic ability—and is eager to teach her how to control her power. With Blake’s help, Jade learns she can defend herself, with or without the Arches protection, against the evil forces that want her blood. 

Then . . . Pen comes back. 

He doesn’t like the idea of someone else looking out for Jade, but an army of evil is on its way to destroy her, and Jade needs all the help she can get. 



The subtle noise woke me out of deep sleep. I stared into the darkness of my bedroom and waited. After a few minutes I heard it again.

Tap. Tap.

Something was scraping my window. The Santa Ana winds were always heavy this time of year, but the sounds it caused never bothered me before. This was different. Keeping my eyes on the window, I slid out of bed and dug the Louisville slugger out from behind my nightstand. I gripped it hard and tiptoed to the source of the noise.

Tap. Tap. 

It wasn’t getting louder, but I knew without a doubt something, or someone, was outside my window. I approached with caution, ready to start swinging. Then something caught my eye. It was a leaf. I tilted my head to get a better angle, and the rest of the twig took form.

Breathing a heavy sigh, I tossed the bat onto my bed and put my head in my hands. My dreams had been so restless lately. I was starting to hallucinate. I laughed at my paranoia and opened the window to retrieve the stray twig.

The moon was an amazing presence in the clear sky. Summer was ending, signaling the beginning of cooler nights in the Southern California desert. I sucked in the clean air and let it fill my lungs. I loved this time of the year, when most of the smog was chased away by gale-force winds. Leaning out the window I watched the leaves dance on the Mulberry tree. A pair of glowing eyes glared back at me from deep within the branches.

I leapt back. Remembering the open window, I made a grab for the sill to slam it shut. I wasn’t quick enough. The eyes grew a body and pounced. I screamed until I heard footsteps in the hallway. Gary reached into the room and flicked on the switch, filling the room with a light that caused me to wince.

When my eyes adjusted to the room, I noticed several things at once. Gary was standing in my doorway, his Chargers pants and white t-shirt vibrating as he fought to catch his breath. In his left hand was a nine iron. The intruder was unmistakably male. Despite the ski mask, his muscular figure was well defined by a too-small black t-shirt. Both men ignored me as they stared each other down from separate ends of my room.

“Jade had a nightmare. You came to check on her. She was fine. You went back to bed.” The guy’s voice lilted with an accent I didn’t recognize.

The golf club fell out of Gary’s hand and hit the floor. I was having an out-of-body experience. There was no way Gary would fall for this guy’s impression of the Jedi mind-trick. But even as I thought it, he turned on his heel and scuffled back to his room at the end of the hall. I began to panic, the giggling bubbling up from my gut making my breath choppy. If my Surge was ever going to cooperate, this would be the time.

Holding my breath, I closed my eyes and focused on the center of my gut where the Surge originated. Nothing happened. It didn’t make sense; if I lost control when I was upset, then I should’ve been blowing the doors off the hinges. But I didn’t, I just stood there stunned as a feeling of dread washed over me. Behind my eyelids I saw Pen, his beautiful face staring back at me with adoration. He would never know how much I loved him. I was going to die and I was all alone. I opened my eyes with a determination to face my death. The intruder hadn’t moved except to turn his head.

The floor creaked as he shifted his weight and ambled toward me. He reached up and tore off the mask, revealing spiky black hair. His smile was cocky, as if he was proud of himself for being so clever.

Suddenly a pair of arms wrapped around me from behind. I blinked up into the intruder’s eyes, and in the next moment he was gone. I was somewhere else. It was dark, but I could smell pine needles and hear branches crackle as the wind blew through them high above me. I was almost certain I was in the mountains somewhere, but it was too dark to tell. Whoever had brought me here still held me tightly.


I spun around to throw my arms around him. He’d come back! Somehow I knew he wasn’t gone for good. He wouldn’t just leave me forever. Not after what we’d been through. But instead I was faced with dark eyes the color of onyx. A stranger, not Pen, had saved me from the supernatural being. I should’ve been grateful. Maybe shook his hand and exchanged emails. He seemed nice enough as he stared back at me with his head tilted in that way Pen did when he was trying to feel my thoughts.

All of these reactions would have been a normal way to react to someone who had just saved your life. I, however, was not a normal girl.

“Who the hell are you?”


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November 2, 2013

Open Promo for Authors - Bring it on!

Welcome to Open Promo for Authors! Once again I've decided to open the floor (or blog post as the case may be) and allow you, my fellow romance authors, a chance to tell me about your book. Do you have a current or upcoming release? Then I want to hear about it! After all, Christmas is right around the corner. And what's better than a stocking full of books?

I do have a few pesky rules though:

  • The book has to be a romance. I don't care what genre romance, but my readership is romance so we're going to give them what they love.

  • You can post for yourself or you can post about a fabulous new book you can't wait to get your hands on and you think we should all run out and buy.

  • If you include a short excerpt in the post, please include a rating AT THE BEGINNING of the post. Let's be thoughtful of those readers who are uncomfortable with some heat levels. 

  • Also, I reserve the right to delete a post if it promotes objectionable content. (incest, rape, etc.) 

Simple enough, right? Post away!

October 23, 2013

Mid Week PIC Me Up ~ Noah!

It's Wednesday, and you know what that means! No? Okay, maybe you've forgotten since I've been a very naughty author and haven't blogged in a looooooonnnngg time. Let me remind you then...It's Wednesday and that means it's time for Mid Week PIC Me Up. YAY!

If you're a member of my Black Phoenix Reader Group then you've already seen today's PIC Me Up. And if you're not a member may I ask why? We have so much fun over there. Go forth and JOIN!

ANYWAY, I shared this one with my reader group already because the moment I saw it I knew, KNEW, that I was looking at Noah Clark.

Dreamy sigh, right? 

October 15, 2013

Winter's Heat by Cristin Harber

Welcome! Today I'm featuring WINTER'S HEAT by Cristin Harber. I hope you'll take the time to check out this wonderful book. And don't forget to leave Cristin a comment. Not just because she'd love to hear from you, because Cristin will be awarding a $25 GC to Victoria’s Secret, and gifted e-copies of the five titles in the series (starting w/ Winters Heat. Three novels and two novellas) to one randomly drawn commenter during this tour AND the Virtual Super Book Blast tour.

After putting her life on the line to protect classified intelligence, military psychologist Mia Kensington is on a cross-country road trip from hell with an intrusive save-the-day hero. Uninterested in his white knight act, she’d rather take her chances without the ruggedly handsome, cold-blooded operative who boasts an alpha complex and too many guns.

Colby Winters, an elite member of The Titan Group, has a single objective on his black ops mission: recover a document important to national security. It was supposed to be an easy in-and-out operation. But now, by any means necessary becomes a survival mantra when he faces off with a stunning woman he can’t leave behind.

When Titan’s safe houses are compromised, Colby stashes Mia at his home, exposing his secret—he’s the adoptive father of an orphaned baby girl. Too soon, danger arrives and Mia lands in the hands of a sadistic cartel king with a taste for torture. As hours bleed into fear-drenched days, Colby races across the globe and through a firestorm of bullets to save the woman he can’t live without.


Setup- Colby Winters and Mia Kensington are waiting for her attackers to make another move. They’re trying to appear distracted outside a motel room, as if they let their guard down.

What was it like? Oh, man. He had a thing for her in a bad way. Winters bent his head toward her. Their foreheads kissed, and there was no question. While she was with him, she was his. His to protect. His to savor. A woman like Mia was rare. At least he had brains enough to notice.

He never should’ve put her in this position. He could’ve packed her off in a plane, back toward the East Coast. Someone from Titan could’ve kept her safe while he finished his original job. But selfishness and curiosity made it so he wouldn’t push her away. He couldn’t, because an irrepressible desire consumed him, powering lust through his veins.

“Colby.” Her hushed whisper tickled his skin. “What are we going to do?”

His pulse thumped in his neck, and he tightened the forearm wrapped around her waist, melding her onto him.

I’m on the job. Serious danger ahead.

He’d missed it before and couldn’t let that happen again. No time for arousal. No time for fantasies.

Images flooded his brain, searing his senses. He remembered the taste of her tongue. Red-hot cinnamon. A sweet, delicious burn of aphrodisia.

What were they going to do? Where to begin... A million ideas popped to mind, starting with making good use of the wall behind him.

No woman had pressed against him like this, so pliable, supple, and luscious. They had always draped him like sex kittens on steroids. Those other women were as over-sexed and one-dimensional as they were obvious, all self-fulfilling prophecies, and they were the definitive opposite of Mia Kensington.

Before Mia’s hands explored him, before her beautiful body had even disrobed, she toyed with his mind like it was the first of many playgrounds. And he wanted to play so bad.

“I’ve started a list.” His lips flitted over hers. “Want me to share?”

Her eyelashes fluttered. “What kind of list?”

“I have you thirty feet from a bed. What kind of list do you—” A drunken couple stumbled out of the bar. Actually, more likely a john and a pro. He should have seen them before he heard them. “More on the list later, doll.”

Men were coming to hurt her, and his hard-on could pick another time for games.

“Okay, Mia, here’s what we’re going to do. When they pull up, act like we let loose. We had too many drinks.” He motioned to the karaoke bar with a tip of his head, then dipped his lips to her neck, lingering under her ear. “I’m convincing you to come to my room. You’re not putting up too much of a fight. Just enough to keep it fun.”

He nipped her earlobe, and she took a tiny gasp. It made his gut jump. Her taste drugged him, intoxicated him. Temptation was a cruel mistress. Giving him a little and making him wait.

“That’s your plan?”

“Not my whole plan, no. But that’s the part you have to play.” He traced the slide of her neck. “Think you can act mildly interested?”

“You’re crazy.” Her voice was husky. “Men are trying to kill us. How can you think about sex?”

“You’re not?”

“I’m… I’m—”

“You’re what? I’m getting into character. You should give it a try.”

“You’re rubbing your hard-on against me, is what you’re doing.”

“All part of my cover. Believable, huh?” Her innocent act was toast. She was far more like Jessica Rabbit than Snow White. “If I tried to drag you off to bed right this second, you wouldn’t join me?”

There was only one answer. He knew it. Felt it as sure as he felt her body mold against him. She couldn’t fight their hunger either.

Her breaths escalated. The quick rise and fall of her breasts fueled him. Winters cupped her chin in his hands, palms caressing her cheeks. Sweet Mia. If he could freeze this moment, it’d be one he’d put on repeat.

“I would,” she whispered. “But…”

“Forget everything else. It’s just you and me.” He thumbed her lips, dragging the bottom one down.

Slowly, his hands drifted into her hair. Lust hung heavy in the cool night air. Her dark lashes fluttered, and her hard nipples pressed against his chest.

How beautiful would she be naked? How would she feel? Impossibly smooth. He would whisk across her sensitive spots, watching those succulent breasts rise and fall in anticipation. He would make sure she ached for him. As much as he ached now.

His fingers tangled into her hair, and Mia leaned her head back, heavy lidded and heady breaths.

“Shouldn’t you watch for the bad guys instead of torturing me?” Her eyes were sealed shut, defenseless.

His lips grazed her neck, and she purred, the sinful sound acting as a deft stroke to his already engorged shaft.

“You don’t think I can multi-task?” He kissed behind her ear, dancing his mouth down her neck. It was a tease. A simple promise of what was to come. When he had a moment to concentrate on her, he’d do whatever it took—lick, kiss, caress, and suck—to make her cry out for him.

His fingers slid to her nape, trailing to the front of her shirt. The fabric felt fragile under his palms. He was losing a battle to a ripped shirt on a pretty girl, but revenge would be amazing.

“How can you do this,” she nudged her head down to where he nuzzled his erection, “and pay attention to anything else?”

“Can you imagine what it’s going to be like between us when I don’t have to worry about anyone but you?”


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