 Silly Girl ~~~~ Are professional sports just children’s games played by oversized kids? With an all-consuming focus Matthias Jessup has sacrificed his body in pursuit of greatness. But while he’s enjoyed the spoils of being an elite athlete, the physical punishment can only be held at bay for so long. He knows his time is running out and he will have to face his future soon. Sylvia Kinder is obsessed with Matthias' public image. But now that her fantasy has walked into her life, could it possibly lead to a happy ending? She worries if there's any place for her in his world, much less his heart. Drawn to each other on a chance meeting, Matthias must look off the court and discover the real world, while Sylvia will have to find the strength of self to not become lost in a world she doesn’t understand. But those who aren’t ready for a life after the game surround Matthias and are willing to do anything to keep him on the court. Excerpt Sylvia Kinder tingled with heat as she watched Matthias Jessup’s body move with hard, calculated lunges leading to only one conclusion… “Yes!” she screamed, thrusting her arms into the air. “You want a beer?” her best friend Leslie asked. “No, I’m good.” “It wasn’t that good of a shot.” “Yes it was. Do you have any idea how hard it is to dribble into traffic and come out with a basket like that?” “Be honest, do you actually climax when he scores? Because if that’s the case, then I understand why you love the league’s leading scorer.” “Only the trick shots,” Sylvia chided her friend. “And he’s not in the lead right now.” “You’re like a walking sportscaster spouting useless information. I swear you could come up with a stat about how often he takes a dump before a game and its direct correlation to his ability to rebound.” “Matthias doesn’t take dumps, but he does average eleven point six rebounds a game so far this season.” “He’s human, Sylvia.” “If he’s human, I’m an amoeba.” Sylvia couldn’t explain why Matthias Jessup had her undying love, but she’d followed him since he first hit Sports Center at age sixteen. He had it all. Then he was still a little gangly, but now he was tall and fit with the toned body of a god. His milk chocolate skin was flawless. He always sported a perfectly shaved head and goatee; even his street clothes were finely pressed. She remembered the headlines. “There’s a new MJ on the horizon. Check this kid out. Matthias Jessup is a junior at Trinity High School in southern Alabama. Images of the player flashed across the screen. Flying through the air. Finishing an alley-oop. “After the drafting of Kobe Bryant last year, and Kevin Garnett the year before, high schools across the country have been forwarding their star players to the NBA. But this MJ may be the heir apparent to take over when Michael Jordan steps down from his throne.”  About the Author:Michel Prince is an author who graduated with a bachelor degree in History and Political Science. Michel writes young adult and adult paranormal romance as well as contemporary romance.
With characters yelling "It's my turn damn it!!!" She tries to explain to them that alas, she can only type a hundred and twenty words a minute and they will have wait their turn. She knows eventually they find their way out of her head and to her fingertips and she looks forward to sharing them with you. When Michel can suppress the voices in her head she can be found at a scouting event or cheering for her son in a variety of sports. She would like to thank her family for always being in her corner and especially her husband for supporting her every dream and never letting her give up. Michel has been awarded Elite Status with Rebel Ink Press for 2013 and is a Pro member of RWA and Midwest Fiction Writers. She lives in the Twin Cities with her husband, son, cat and new puppy. Author page links: http://www.amazon.com/Michel-Prince/e/B007XWI6OA/ref=sr_tc_2_0?qid=1376775835&sr=1-2-ent http://www.allromanceebooks.com/storeSearch.html http://store.secretcravingspublishing.com/index.php?main_page=products_all&filter_author=126&zenid=861836902e36ed97afcf03f56fda044c http://www.barnesandnoble.com/c/michel-prince I love when I find a unique story. Vampires and werewolves are very prevalent in paranormal romance. But Jill Kaelin writes about UNICORNS. Who didn't grow up with the movies, The Last Unicorn or Legend? Unicorns have always had a place in fantasy and now Jill Kaelin's Hunted takes them to a different level.  Hello Jill and thank you for visiting today. Tell us a little about yourself. Thank you for having me! To start with, I’m a teacher in Florida. I’ve been teaching for ten years now and continue to love it just as much as I did the first year. Probably even more so, because I actually know what I’m doing now. My life was made complete in 1994 when my daughter was born. She’s not a baby anymore, though. She just graduated from high school last year, so I feel super old now. As for writing, I’ve been at it since I was young. Thanks! It sounds like you have an interesting life. I'm a teacher too and it does take a bit to feel comfortable with the techniques of teaching. Now on to some personal questions. If you could go back in time to when you were seven years old, what wisdom or advice would you pass on to yourself? Great question. I would tell myself to never stop daydreaming. I used to get caught at it a lot in elementary school. I remember once in 5th grade, my class was in a portable. There were a lot of windows and my desk was next to one. One afternoon, I imagined a giant, rusty wrecking ball coming towards the portable but I was the only one to see it, so I leapt out of my seat and managed to save everyone from the crash by ducking under a table on the other side of the room. Crazy, right? That’s just one example of the fun ideas that float around in my brain. For what are you grateful? I’m grateful for so many things but I’ll pick my top two. I’ll start with my daughter. She’s an inspiration to me every day. Second, I’m grateful for my career as a teacher because I love the inspiration they give me. I hope I return the favor just a little. If a zombie virus took over the world, how many days do you think you could last before you were infected? And what would you do to postpone the inevitable? Now this I could handle. My sister-in-law, Jenny, is a zombie expert. She knows everything there is to know about zombies, so I would just call her and she’d know exactly how to keep us from being infected. No worries! What television sitcom is most like your family? Why? I’m a reality TV junkie, so it’d be more like one of the housewives episodes with all the drama. But what’s a family without drama, right? What’s your favorite thing to do to relax? Hi. My name is Jill and I’m a Candy Crush addict. (Need I say more?) Let’s find out a little bit about you as an author. Did you always want to be an author? Yes and no. When I was young, I dreamed about writing a book one day and it was always in the back of my mind growing up. But reality hits you pretty darn quick and I didn’t think I could make it financially, so I went into the nursing program. I know what you’re thinking…that I’m not a nurse, I’m a teacher. Correct, nursing isn’t for everyone and luckily I figured that out and went into elementary education. What authors had an impact on you growing up and as an adult? Growing up I loved reading Judy Blume books. Are you There God? It’s me Margaret taught me a lot about life. :) As an adult, Stephenie Meyer had a huge impact on me. Seeing how she created the Twilight saga from just a dream, wrote it because she just felt she had to, and then managed to get published and turn it into a giant empire…what’s not inspiring about that? Do you have any “must haves” with you while you’re writing? I don’t. I like quiet, but can write with music playing in the background also. Early mornings work best for me. The house is so peaceful then. How did you decide to write a Young Adult story? Do you feel passionate about that age? I wanted to right a young adult story because in my heart I am still a young adult. I am very passionate about this genre. It’s my favorite to read and write. Adult writing seems daunting. I’d be afraid of not using enough big words. What have you learned the most from being in the writing business? What haven’t I learned? Gosh, I had no idea so much went into the business. The most educational part had to be during editing. Everything is very technical. When I was in school, (showing my age here), we were taught to double space after each sentence and that was how Hunted was originally typed. During editing, all of those spaces had to come out. Talk about a task! And of course, track changes was something I’d never used before so that took some learning as well. I’ll also add to this that I am still learning how to toot my own horn. I suck at interviews because I don’t like to talk about myself. In this business, if you’re not self-promoting you won’t last long.  Tell us about your latest release: (blurb, excerpt, cover)
The cover is absolutely beautiful and mesmerizing. I could spend hours looking at it. Here’s a small excerpt from a moment in the book that I love. We settled onto her bed and I decided to tell her everything about my life, both now and before. I dug into my bag and pulled out my life book. Unlike my textbook for school, this was just about me, my history…the history of my lives. The cover was ornately decorated with many valuable gemstones, all from my past. Jules gently stroked the jewels and asked, “Are they real?” Very calmly I answered her. “Yes, all of the stones are real. They’re my stones, all given to me by the Kooble…” I paused for a moment. “For each of my past lives.” There, I said it. Jules stared at the gems, and then looked up at me, quite possibly to see if I was joking. She looked back down at the cover of the album and began laughing uproariously. “Yeah…right. There are…like…twelve stone…thingies here!” She managed to spit the words out in between hysterical fits. It took a moment for her to stop, as she saw that I was not laughing with her. I knew she was probably in a bit of a shock from that. I kept my face serious. I allowed her time to think it through and absorb the fact that it was true, that I had lived this life many times. When she did finally stop, her face became very sallow in appearance. Afraid she might pass out, I stood up and sat behind her on the bed and pulled her shoulders down so she was lying in my lap. I stroked her wet hair off to the side with my fingertips and waited for her color to return to normal. She must’ve known she wasn’t handling the news well, because she began breathing in through her nose and out through her mouth, like they taught us in health class. It was amazing to me the things this girl remembered. When her heart rate slowed and her rosy cheeks reappeared, I grabbed my book and held it above her, opening to the first page. “This was the beginning of my life. You see, we’re really only born once, through very unique conditions. My original mother and father were both unicorns, but they were breeders. Breeders are special unicorns with only one purpose…to breed more of our kind, as much as possible. It’s clearly a difficult life for the female unicorn, but the male takes care of her and the young ones once we’re born. When we are first born, we’re actual unicorns. Horse heads with horns and everything. At least that’s how it was back then. We haven’t had breeders in over six hundred years. The father breeder has the job of changing us to look human. His power is very strong. He cares for us as unicorns and when we’re about eight months old, he changes us into what you see today. By the time we’re a year old, we are given away to unis to be raised just like any other baby. My first life began back in the eleven hundreds. I was born, really born, in the year eleven hundred seventy one.” Great excerpt! How did you decide on your story plot? I knew I wanted to write in this genre, but I wanted it to be different. I didn’t want to use vampires or werewolves because at the time they were being overused and that bandwagon was full. I did some research on fairies, but didn’t feel a connection to them. Unicorns seemed a little fantastical, but I liked the idea of being completely out there. So I began to research them and the plot developed beginning with an old folktale about them. How did you choose your characters names and location for your story? I’ve always heard that you should write about what you know. So I used my hometown, Port Orange for this story. I went to the same high school the characters go to in the book and so did my daughter. Some of the names of the characters I borrowed from friends and family and others I made up because they fit. Like Portia for example…she’s a mean girl. She needed a name that fit her character and I think Portia filled that slot nicely. Do you have a favorite scene? Why? A favorite scene…hmmm. I have quite a few, but one of them I enjoyed writing the most was toward the end of the book. The battle scene on the football field. I don’t want to give away too much, but I love the way the plot unfolds there. Do you have a character that you identify with? Who and why? I definitely identify with Skye. She has my sense of humor. Jules and I share our passion for kindness to others. Mike shares my love for cool cars. I think there’s a little piece of me in each one of them…even Portia. Let our readers know how they can get a hold of you… Readers can find me on twitter, Facebook, through my blog, or through my website. Twitter: @jillkaelin Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/Cycle13Hunted Blog: http://jillkaelin.blogspot.com/ Website: http://jillkaelin.weebly.com/ Is there anything else that you want to share… feel free!! I’d like to thank everyone for coming and I hope you enjoy reading Hunted as much as I enjoyed writing it. Thank you! Thank you for stopping by Jill! If you want to pick up Hunted, you can find it at Amazon B&N Inkspell Kobo All Romance Ebooks 
It's wonderful to share books with others. It's like finding a sale on shoes! Today I'm sharing the teaser for The Witch and the Werewolf.  The Legacy of the RedCape Women by Zerlina Valinski
When Tasia discovers her ancestry is tied to the mountains of North Carolina, she's shocked but elated. Finally, she thinks she may have found what she's missed all her life...family. Reaching her ancestral home however, leads her into the path of an Alpha shifter...and secrets some never want revealed. Conal is the Alpha wolf, and the local law, still more than his interest is peaked when he sees the bedraggled woman sitting in his spot. He feels torn over leading her to her grandmother's home...is this the beginning of their story? Or will the past destroy their future? Excerpt: The door swung open and in stepped the biggest man Taisa had ever seen. The plaid button down shirt he wore clung to his broad shoulders. He raked the wet hair back from his forehead, his clothes soaked. His dark gaze swept the room before landing on her. “Who’s he?” Tasia gulped down her water. Her unease was swiftly back. “He’s our Al…Sheriff. He eats here every night and you’re in his spot.” “Oh. Should I move?” “Don’t let him bluster you too bad, he’s a nice guy. I’ll be back with your dinner.” Julia was out of the booth before the Sheriff reached them. Tasia was sure Julia was escaping something, but she just couldn’t figure out what. “You’re sitting in my spot.” The bear of a man towered over her. His voice was so deep it vibrated through her. “Who the hell are you anyway? Is your car parked out front? In my spot, I might add.” “Well, one of the cars is mine, not sure where your spot is though.” “The one with a hungry dog in the back seat.” “I’ll take care of her when I’m done eating. You don’t need to worry. She’s well loved.” “I guess, I can smell the dog all over you.” He made a sniffing sound then glared at her. “Right. Listen, I’ll move as soon as I eat my meal. But, you’re welcome to sit across from me. If you can stand the dog smell.” She grinned up at him. Tasia felt challenged, she did not like it. She was never one to cower when her ire was up. Foster care had taught her to be tough, resilient. Although, this man made her feel dwarfed, but her instinct told her not to flinch. When you flinch, you’re vulnerable. I’m an idiot. I should get out of his way. She leaned her neck back to look up at him. “Go ahead, have a seat.” She motioned to the other side of the booth. “We can share. I don’t bite. And if I smell like a dog. I have been traveling all day with Bella, a she’s a German shepherd. She can’t help how she smells.” “You don’t bite?” He chuckled, the brusque manner fading. “To bad.” He scooted into the bench across from her with the lithe grace of a wolf. Crimson Frost Books Link Cover Art by Suzie's Designs About the Author: I am Zerlina Valinski. I am weaver of tales of sensual erotic romance. My stories will take you to places you have never been. You will see fantastic places and people. I will tantalize you with stories of Weres, Shape shifters, Witches, Warlocks, Fairies, Imps, pagan gods and goddesses and more mystical creatures. I will invite you into their sensual worlds where they don't shy away from the carnal as humans do. They indulge their passion and they love without mortal confines of the human mind. I invite you to partake in these sensual adventures. They will keep your interest. The world is old and there are many beings here. Human's ignorance doesn't eliminate this reality. Humans are frozen in their ways, their beliefs. But not the creatures of old, they're fully aware of the hidden world around us. Come with me to meet them and see their domains. To live with them and to love with them. Author Links: Site Facebook Twitter Join Zerlina Valinski on August 24th at 8PM EST at Crimson Frost Books Discussion Group on Facebook  I'm excited to share this sexy story with you. There's something about finding love and redeeming yourself that always touches my heart! Don't forget to enter the giveaway for a copy of Seeing Red.  Seeing Red by E.L. Esch
What would you do if you lost five years of freedom? If everything you'd ever known was torn away from you, all because the one person you counted on to save you didn't come through? This is the cruel reality for Gabriel “Red” Thatcher, convicted at age nineteen for the murder of his father. Now twenty-five and eight months out of prison, Red has nothing to his name and no one to help him. He is carrying close to him a rage hotter than white flames. Had his sister just testified on his behalf in court, he could have been spared the horrible things that happened to him in the doghouse. Things that'll make him never look at intimacy the same way again. Red can't take swallowing his bitter rage alone anymore. Unable to kill the growing loneliness and ire with time, he heads into the Flower District in search of a gay bar to drown his sorrows. There he meets the bubbly, easy-on-the-eyes Silo Winters. When Red learns that Silo did three years in prison for an accidental oil fire, he brings Silo home, not so much for a wild romp as to relieve his aching loneliness. Besides if anyone will understand Red's pain it'll be Silo, who's gone through some of the same horrors he has. However, he definitely doesn't count on Silo becoming so much more than a sexy shoulder to lean on. Now, if only Red can learn to let him in. Excerpt: The Flower District was named for what many men lost there—that moment when the lily white of a pure man’s soul turned red with his first taste of carnal lust. This was not my case, however. I’d lost the purity of having an untouched body years ago, and to a man I didn’t even love…or want. I sat in the district’s most renowned bar, Divano Messia. I could practically feel eyes cruising over me, but I paid them no mind. I felt bad for the first guy who’d offer to buy me a drink, because I was that one-in-a-million man who wasn’t looking to get laid in a place meant for people looking to get laid. I just wanted to be left alone and drink. Despite this, I let my gaze wander. I hadn’t gotten any in more than eight months, so I let myself have some eye candy at least. Those times in prison didn’t count. I didn’t exactly find the idea of being forced against some concrete wall by a man I hardly knew a good time. If I wanted, I could have one of these men on my arm in an hour’s time, but because of the past, because of prison, I didn’t. I would never take a one-night stand—that was the promise I’d made to myself eight months ago on my first day outside my prison cell, my first day of freedom. Besides, I didn’t have much money to buy a guy a drink. All I had in my wallet today was a twenty, enough for two drinks at most and, if I was lucky, a taxi ride home. I looked down at my reflection in the bar top and sneered. The twenty wasn’t even mine. I hadn’t been able to find work since I’d gotten out of the doghouse, and it stung worse than a rough first time that the money I did have I was leeching off of my sister. I had been for eight months for rent, food, and now alcohol. But as much as I hated being out on the town using my sister’s money, I desperately needed the booze, because if I penned through another to-be-ignored job application sober, I knew I’d blow a gasket. Thus I ordered the driest cocktail Messia served—a Stinger. It hurt my throat to swallow it, but I sucked up the burn and smacked my lips. It wouldn’t get me drunk, but twenty bucks wouldn’t anyway, so at least I could take my mind off all the shit going on in my life by scalding my tongue. When I grimaced at my second sip of the cocktail, a man a few seats away from me laughed. I looked up at him, but he wasn’t looking back. I wondered if he’d even been laughing at me as I profiled his average build and cleanly shaven skull. What attracted my attention the most about him were his ice-blue eyes. I only caught a glimpse when he turned to look behind him, but they were astounding. A pale winter blue, almost stark white, just like icicles reflecting the color of the sky. I could almost smell the clean air and feel the frigid chill of winter when I saw them. Realizing I was staring, I lowered my eyes. Then I caught sight of an array of black bars on the underside of the man’s wrist. A barcode… I gazed back up at his shaven skull and understood, and that’s when he looked at me. He smiled. His teeth were straight and perfect, though strangely not quite as white as his eyes. I turned my gaze away, finding his tattoo again and staring. He must’ve noticed, because he folded his arms to conceal it when I brought my gaze up to his face. Now it could have just been a meaningless tattoo. I’d heard of teens getting barcode tats just so they could scan themselves at stores. He could’ve been inked just for shits and giggles, but I didn’t think so. The way he hid his tattoo from me when he caught me staring…the seemingly pained look in his eyes when he’d folded his arms…his ink was personal. Too personal to have been done for kicks. After all, lots of guys who’d been in prison got tats of their prisoner ID. I knew—I was one of them. Only I didn’t do it to make myself look like some badass, or to brand myself as a rebellious stray lamb. I did it to remind myself that no matter how rough life got, I’d been through worse. Much, much worse… “Silo Winters.” The tattooed man called across the bar. “That’s my name. Yours?” “Red…” A large part of me didn’t want to talk to him, because I knew what he was after. A larger part of me realized from the ink on his wrist that he might have been through the same type of hell I had in prison, and that he, like me, could possibly want a shoulder to lean on to get away from it all. But I wasn’t about to kid myself. This was the Flower District’s most popular gay bar, after all. “Red, like the crayon color?” He rose from his seat and took the one next to me instead. “I guess.” I sipped my drink again and cringed. “Why drink it if you don’t like it?” Silo set his elbow on the bar and his chin atop his palm. “Because I want to.” I drank again, noticing the way he kept eying my cocktail. “Care to offer me one?” He grinned at me stupidly, with his lips crooked and his eyes squeezed shut. And though I kind of found it cute, I shook my head and said, “No.” That quieted him for a minute. “Well, I won’t make you woo me, if that’s not your thing. How about you just take me home and we skip the formalities?” Talk about coming on too strong. Part of me was a bit disappointed this man had ended up just like the rest, mostly because I yearned to hear the story behind the tattoo on his wrist. I looked for it again. Realizing it was hidden, I scratched my own instead. “Sorry, I’m not looking for anything like that.” I promptly asked the bartender for my bill, and then again for my change when he gave it to me. “I won’t rob you or anything.” Silo stared at me as I rose from my seat, an odd pleading look in his bluish-white eyes. “Sorry.” I set a dollar on the bar and left, feeling those icicle eyes burning into my back as I stood up to head out the door. “Hey wait, sugar.” Against my better judgment, I turned back to face Silo. “What?” “I’m not offended by a rejection.” He laughed. “Stay. Drink. That’s why you came, isn’t it?” I narrowed my eyes. He was right. Besides, I’d only finished half my cocktail. “Fine…” I slowly took my seat again. “So what’s got ya sucking down a throat-stinging drink like that, sweetheart?” Silo asked. I hadn’t thought he’d continue talking to me, but as long as he didn’t make any more passes at me, I didn’t mind. “Life,” I grumbled. “Hah! That’s what’s got me here too, sweetheart.” I hadn’t intended to sit with him and talk. After all, I couldn’t give him the night of fun that he wanted. But the moment I saw him, his beautiful icicle-blue eyes captured me. They demanded my attention every time I looked at him. And when I’d felt them on my back as I’d turned to leave the bar, I’d sensed them looking beyond the surface of my skin and down into my core. That was one of the reasons I’d sat back down at the bar. That and my insatiable curiosity about the barcode tattoo on the underside of his wrist. Mostly, though, it was the look of quiet understanding in Silo’s eyes when I caught him staring at my similarly tattooed wrist. Before I knew it, we’d been talking for hours, mostly about things that had no meaning, like our favorite bars in the Flower District. Silo was a huge flirt and hit on me more often than not, but nothing serious. He always laughed when he dropped some cheesy line or batted his eyelashes, almost as if he were emphasizing that it was all a joke. At intervals he still seriously asked me to take him home, and—because of my personal principles—I declined. “Crayon…” Silo said suddenly. He tapped the side of my martini glass with a terribly chewed nail. The ping echoed around the bar, lost in the conversations of other men. “Do you come here every night? I’ve never really seen you around here.” He smiled. I shook my head. “No.” Silo grinned and settled his cheek against the palm of his hand. “I see.” I could see the barcode tattooed on the underside of his wrist again with the way he was sitting, and my curiosity flared up once more. Now normally I would in no way bring up prison, because if I did, the conversation was bound to route back to me and what’d I’d done to get locked up. Normally I avoided the topic like the plague, but here I was with a man who may have gone through that very same hell and all I wanted to talk about was prison since I’d met him, because for the first time in eight months, I’d found someone whose gaze didn’t develop that repelling glare when it passed over the barcode inked into my wrist. And just knowing someone like that existed made my soul cry out to him as a fellow comrade-in-arms. If I was wrong about it all—about him and his past being just like me and mine—then oh well. I would take that chance, because eight months of having no one to talk to were driving me crazy. If I did turn out to be wrong about him, then he’d simply become just another stranger judging me silently with his pale, wintery eyes. So as casually as I could, trying to show Silo I wouldn’t care no matter how he answered, I asked, “So I’ve noticed you’ve got a barcode tat. Shits and giggles, or have ya done time?” while tapping my ink. “You finally asked, huh? I wondered who would be the first.” Silo chuckled, almost spat as he raised his head and looked at my face. He shucked off his leather jacket and pointed to a fleshy red burn on the right side of his neck. “Three years.” Silo craned his neck as if to give me a better view. “Trespassing. Apparently I’m dumb enough to cause an oil fire right in front of my own face.” I scratched my wrist. “You didn’t?” “Fucking tank fell off the truck. Driver started the vehicle and then…” Silo clenched his fist before my face and then stretched his fingers wide. “Boom. Luckily it was a small tank, but there I was, a twenty-three-year-old nitwit proving the size of my balls to a couple of drunk college buddies. A convenient excuse. They convicted me on the cigarette I’d thrown to the ground minutes before the tank just rolled off the truck and started a fire. I’d tossed the stupid thing right next to the truck’s tire too, and of course there were no witnesses of it being an accident. My college friends had bailed on me, afraid of getting caught. Bullshit. I just got out a month ago.” Silo held up his hand and ordered a Balalaika when the bartender was within earshot. The bar master exchanged a nod with Silo, turning to find his mixer. When Silo received his drink, he sipped it daintily, his anger seeming to have already cooled. “Ah, that’s good. I missed this damn place.” “Amen to that.” I held up my drink in a hypothetical toast. Silo sipped his cocktail with a finesse that matched the catlike grace with which he handled the glass. As he brought the glass away from his lips, he smiled sadly at the barcode tattooed on the underside of his wrist. “You have one too, huh?” He gestured at my similarly placed ink. “What do you think possesses us to remind ourselves of the shit we went through in there?” I laughed, merely because I was happy to understand what he meant. “That it only gets better?” I snorted. “Or worse.” I examined my ink and shook my head. After what had been done to me in that hellhole, I could only pray that things couldn’t possibly get worse. “So were you one of those dudes who couldn’t stand the blood, Silo?” “Pft, no. Tattoos don’t hurt that much. I actually thought about getting another.” He stopped to take a drink of his cocktail. “Funny.” He grinned. “You didn’t say anything about my name being weird. Most people would’ve brought it up by now.” I shrugged. “What would I say? My name’s a crayon color.” I paused, thinking long and hard about saying what I wanted to say next. I passed my eyes over Silo’s figure openly. “I’d rather mention something about that fine body.” Silo sputtered into his drink and ended up swallowing more laughter than cocktail. “Oh, you’re finally coming around, huh?” No, he was wrong. I wasn’t looking for any more empty sex in my life. I glanced at Silo and silently apologized for hitting on him, because I hardly had any intention of having yet another forced, emotionless romp. But that nagging fellowship I felt between Silo and me was just too strong to ignore. Maybe his relentless flirting had simply taken its toll on me, because I actually wanted to take him home now just to be close to him, the man who neither judged nor feared me. So when I simply shrugged, I hoped Silo knew how I felt. “Don’t come on to me half-assed.” Silo smiled despite his words. He took a swig of his cocktail, twiddling his thumbs around the stem of his glass when he set it back down on the bar. “If you don’t find me attractive, I can go back to the end of the bar.” “N-no!” I stuttered. “I meant what I said—you do have a nice body. I just—” “You ever been fucked in prison, Crayon?” He looked me up and down and shook his head. “You look too built to have been bullied like I was.” He snickered, almost like his words didn’t carry the horrors of his past. The question hit me so suddenly that my mouth went dry. I almost felt like he knew what was going through my head, as if his ice-blue eyes were reading me. So it was true, then—he’d gone through the same shit as me and more in prison, and that was when I knew for sure that I wanted to take him home with me. Because, like I’d hoped, he wasn’t judging me. He understood. I regarded Silo’s quiet trepidation with care, knowing I was treading on eggshells now. Little did he know, he was doing the same. “No,” I lied. Buy Link: Loose-Id About The Author: I can mostly be found staring into the screen of my PC or laptop into all hours of the night, hyped on caffeinated soda and likely procrastinating something important by losing at Internet Checkers or browsing the web (The day I win a game of Internet Checkers is the day I can write more than a few pages at once without procrastinating). When I'm not doing that, I'm either out being my nerdy self or, of course, writing. I've been writing since the fourth grade, and have no plans to stop. To me, one of the greatest pleasures in life is being able to create worlds and characters whose lives I can share with others. Author Links: Website Facebook DeviantArt Blog Giveaway: E. L. Esch is giving away a digital copy of Seeing Red during her tour. For a chance to win please fill out the Rafflecopter Below.  Blurb:
An award-winning choreographer must face the only man she's ever loved then lost when they are teamed up to work together at a gymnastics camp for Olympic hopefuls. Claire LeMay is at the top of her game - she's head of a prominent gymnastics facility with her gymnasts winning awards for her outstanding choreography. Now her biggest challenge is to coach alongside the man she's avoided for three years after he demanded she live in his shadow instead of forging her own path. After sinking every penny of his inheritance into his state-of-the-art gymnastics facility, Justin Black has achieved his dream. But even with hundreds of members and well-trained coaches, when Claire's presence invades his space, he reluctantly admits she's the one thing missing in his life. Oblivious as to why she walked out on him three years ago, he attempts to call a truce. As their old passion tumbles out faster than a gymnast sprinting down the vault runway, they realize they are in the same impossible position as they were three years ago. Are they destined to repeat the same old routine or will they be able to choreograph a new one? Review: I love books about second chances. Claire and Justin are both opinionated and hard-headed. Their relationship before suffered from it. The distance, the competition and the lack of listening bring their previous romance to a halt faster than a fall off the uneven bars. While they had a lot in common, it was that hard-headedness that kept them from being together. I get it. I got my feelings hurt and walked away. I never looked back....for all of about two weeks, then I was too proud to call. Claire is like me. She wanted the perfect guy but also wanted some say in things. Basically she couldn't see the hot perfect guy from the bossiness of her parents and the world around her. Justin reaches out to Claire and it works. He's getting her to think about him and he's willing to dig a bit to find out the truth. I love that he's able to admit when he makes a mistake but then goes and does it again! At least he's smart enough to learn from his mistakes. Ms. Kamryn tells a story that is sure to delight the reader. The sex is steamy and the relationship works. The ending will have you remembering all those romantic movies that you've secretly watched and adored. I loved the secondary characters of Claire's friend and her sex-starved hook up! They will keep you laughing! If you enjoy a fun read filled with compelling characters and the exciting backdrop of  As a teacher, I enjoy sharing my passion for books with my students. When I find a book that they will enjoy, I'm happy to share. This looks like another great story for Young Adults and Adults alike. June visits to share her thoughts and don't forget to enter the giveaway at the end!  It’s Harry Potter meets the Celestine Prophecy in this magical and thrilling ride! The McTish Series is an explosive adventure through a dimensional Gateway into another world, a world of beauty and magic, Coranim…a land of insight, thought and possibilities, that sits beneath the enchanted Gilley Forest. There is local legend in the small town of Grandlochcheshire that has been passed down for a 100 years about the mysterious disappearance of the Chickering family, that trails on the coat tails of the equally shocking abduction of the Skeffington Union Rails heirs, Connor and Shelbe. The circumstances that follow this notorious tale enter into the modern world of Benjamin and his two best mates. One day Benjamin watches from behind the Rhododendron as a mysterious little woman steps out of a taxi in front of the cream colored house with the forest green trim next door and in one synchronistic moment their eyes lock and a series of visual snippets of unfamiliar events unfold in his mind’s vision. His razor sharp sixth sense allows him the freedom to explore the extrasensory messages coming at him in a frenzied speed, like a derailed freight train. And when Benjamin finds a peculiar old relic of a key in his grandmother’s garden shed, he could never know his world was about to change forever. Annabel and Mathilda, two sisters who have moved to Grandlochcheshire from America, have become more than mere friends to Benjamin, they have all become the three Muskydeers (Mathilda’s mispronounced version of Musketeers, which was a huge laugh and of course it stuck), as they are plunged head first into this curious journey. In the Gilley Forest they discover that the path they have chosen is inundated with many obstacles as well as intrigue. Alliances are made with the Forest clan of Gnomes known as the Set, and with the aid of the Vila sisters, Sethina and Morel, as well as some surprising and unexpected allegiances, the three friends take on the test that is the Grandfather Tree. They must stay on the pre ordained Path of prophecy, portended by the ancient seer Pajah Set, whose ancestry comes from the home of the oldest living beings on the planet, the Elves of the Darmon However, this is no easy task for the Muskydeers as they have the foulest of sorcery hunting their every move, the powerful dark beauty known to all as Tar Vigorn. This ruthless Queen is not without humor however, and loves a good game of cat and mouse, as long as she’s the cat. With her biting sense of sarcasm and calculated taunting, she knows just how to unnerve the young Benjamin. Her phantom army known as the Blunt are searching for a way into the Grand Tree and will stop at nothing to infiltrate the pristine world beneath his giant roots. Once in Coranim the children make the acquaintance of the greatest Medicine Elder alive, Esmerelda Fet. A most powerful Light Sorceress with a brazen in your face attitude and a thick Irish brogue, who guides the trio on their Path of destiny. “All tings be possible ya wee chil’ren, if’en ya put yer mind to it! Thar be nothin ya can’t accomplish. Ya just need ta be placin all yer carage inta tha middle of yer core whar yer Spirit shines…an ya can do anythin! Ha!” Filled with many wonders, and home to the Fet clan of Gnomes, Coranim is a magical world of art, sound, thought, invention and discovery….and home to the World Library of Identity, with none other than Dunston Tibbitts at the helm. Every being on the planet has a book dedicated to the entirety of their lives. Dunston reports to Benjamin, “according to what I see here now, this very minute, whatever it is that you are seeking will show itself today and change your Path immediately. It will put you into a whole new dynamic as they say.” What could alter the overpowering trajectory Benjamin has followed to Coranim? How will it change his life? Find out as our three heroes delve into the mystic, as well as their own inner character, as you watch from the edge of your seat. Book Two, Benjamin Mctish and the Wizards of Coranim, coming 2013 The ExcerptWell, that’s very odd, thought Benjamin. He had never noticed the peculiar looking key, hanging from a very worn and tattered green ribbon, on the rusted nail in the garden shed before. The garden shed was not a traditional shed in the least. Even though the walls were constructed from very old worn out wood, the interesting element was the solid glass roof. It was a very unusual version of a greenhouse, and the permanent home of the most rare and beautiful of begonias, grown by his grandmother Emmagene. It also doubled as Benjamin’s secret hideaway. The design was one of a kind, built by his grandfather, Owen McTish, way back before Benjamin was even born. The wood came from an old abandoned farm on the outskirts of town. The remnants from the farm had sat in the big fields on the edge of the Gilley Forest for close to a hundred years or more now. The property was part of a long forgotten estate that had iron clad deeds and legalities making it impossible to tear down. Save for some wood that was sold off at auction, (which was now the main body of structure to the McTish garden shed), along with some rusted antique barnyard equipment, nothing had been touched in all these long years. The passed down rumors of the mysteries surrounding the Chickering farm was still local legend with all the residents, but especially with the children, in the small town of Grandlochcheshire. And here he was now, sitting in the garden shed built of the same wood that had housed the infamous Chickerings all those long years ago, staring at a mysterious key. Benjamin sat upright from his perch on top of the pile of burlap bags that covered the mound of hay his grandmother stored in the shed for new seedling cover and stared up in utter disbelief at the mysterious key. His grandmother enjoyed the smell of fresh hay, as it reminded her of her youth on her family’s horse ranch. This resulted in her always keeping much more hay than she truly needed under the burlap, making this a particularly cozy little spot for Benjamin to lounge about. As an added attraction, it also happened to be in direct sight of the door and most of the surroundings, and proved to be the perfect lookout for any uninvited guests. Benjamin whipped his head around quickly and scanned the shed for any movement. Nothing out of the ordinary, no one else around, no sounds of any kind, he thought. He sat still and stared into the air before him, going into his deeper mind to hunt down an answer. After a moment he continued his search around the room. The light coming in from the glass ceiling was soft and dark grey as it was about to rain. This added a touch of anxiety to the moment, as Benjamin’s all too familiar feeling of questioning arose. Everything appeared to look the same as it did every other day that he could remember...except for that confounding and peculiar key! The hairs on Benjamin’s arms stood straight up and a flush washed over his entire body and he knew something big was about to happen. Benjamin had the ability to know things that other people never realized. He knew secrets about people, their inner workings, even before they knew about it themselves. It wasn’t like he could see dead people, or tell you what you had hidden in your pocket, or anything like this. It was more about sensing things. He had gut feelings, but in a bigger more expanded way. He was rather good at telling you when your Aunt Gertie was going to show up at your door, or where to look for the lost cat. However, he was really good at knowing if something was significant or not, if something needed a further or deeper exploration. It had always been this way for Benjamin. When something was about to occur he always had a warning it was coming. The hair on his arms stood up and an extremely powerful tingling from the bottom of his toes would rush up over his body. His heart would pound and a little sweat would instantly gather on his face and neck. His breathing would speed up and his eyes would widen in anxious search of the source of his alertness. Many times these sensations came with lightning rapid visions and sounds. And always attached to these pictures was a deeply felt emotion clinging along for the ride. Benjamin hesitantly turned back around slowly, like he was moving through thick syrup and stared at the hanging piece of tarnished metal. He had a very uneasy feeling about this key. In all his years of living with his grandparents he had never seen the key dangling in the shed. Nor, in fact, had he seen its equal or anything remotely close to this anywhere in the whole of the household. He estimated the key was somewhere around nine inches in length and looked as old as the hills...Or the Gilley Forest, came the distant thought to Benjamin for an unexplained instant. It was intricately designed with marks that Benjamin couldn’t make out from where he was sitting. An impending alarm flooded Benjamin’s mind as he began his slow concise descent off the mound of burlap covered hay. He inched his way toward the foreign old relic of a key. The key with a worn out tattered green ribbon to match, that hung from an equally rusted old nail pounded soundly into the beam of the garden shed, that was home to Benjamin McTish and all that he knew. As Benjamin approached the key he couldn’t take his eyes off of it. It was like a magnetic beam was pulling him closer and closer to his target. Benjamin reached up on his toes and removed the key from its mysterious home on the old nail. The weight of the key surprised Benjamin, he hadn’t expected it to be as heavy as it was. He turned it around and around in his hands, studying every line of the design. When suddenly, by accident, he noticed that at a certain angle when he looked at it almost sideways there appeared to be...words! Words and symbols in some kind of extraordinary language that Benjamin had never seen before. Benjamin’s heart started racing and his breathing grew louder. His eyes widened and he quickly took the key over to the potting bench in the middle of the shed. The bench stood immediately under the huge expanse of window ceiling and in between two other tables that were filled with pots and dirt. He laid the key on the top near the corner, in the strong growing light of the imminent storm. The eerie cast that the light makes when it is so bright, yet dark at the same time, gave illumination to the key on the table’s edge. The table was a perfect height for Benjamin to scrunch on down with his hands on his knees at eye level with the key. He marched back and forth, squatting and repositioning himself for every possible discoverable view of this curious relic without actually touching it. This small, yet significant, distance gave solace to Benjamin as he went deep into dissecting thought. Just as he was about to pick up the key to examine it closer for details, the door of the shed flew open. A burst of exuberant and animated voices came at him so fiercely that he jumped from the sudden fright, scratching his shoulder on the edge of the table behind him. “Blast it!” he groaned. Quickly recognizing the voices of his two best mates, Annabel and Mathilda, he grabbed the key with stealth speed and put it in his back pocket. He pulled his jumper over the protruding end of the key to hide it and turned around to see what the commotion was about. There was Annabel in her familiar flower-printed rubber cowboy boots and her younger sister Mathilda in her ever more familiar lavender tutu, with today’s addition of a yellow, red and green plaid rain slicker and hat. All her wild orange curls were peeking out everywhere around her face and she held something tightly in her closed up fist. The girls were in the middle of a heavy debate. “....and it always does,” Mathilda was saying in mid sentence. “That’s not true,” Annabel defended vehemently, “Where do you get these ideas from anyway, you’re just too weird for words Tildie. I mean it. You really are starting to bug me. I just wish you would find some friends your own age already, as if anyone would be friends with you, and leave me alone!” shouted Annabel with force as she kept walking towards Benjamin. With this, Mathilda stopped dead in her tracks and looked up as her sister walked away from her. Her eyes began to instantly fill with huge blinding hot tears. Benjamin could see Mathilda beginning to lose it completely and he could also see the rage in Annabel’s trudge towards him. He made a small gesture with his eyes for Annabel to turn around. However, before Annabel could understand what Benjamin’s coded expression meant, Mathilda’s sweet little round face was rapidly contorting. With this her little shoulders were bouncing up and down from the weight of her silent wailing. This was the kind of crying that one makes when the hurt is so sudden that your brain can’t react as fast as your body. Instantly your eyes fill up and closed all at once. Unprompted, Mathilda’s clenched fist opened and the three gum balls that had been held prisoner, loosened their stickiness in slow motion and fell to the ground, leaving dots of candy flavored red, green and white imprints on her sweaty palm. She held her stiff sticky little rainbow colored hand open like it was something defective and unattached to her. Her rain hat was falling down over her forehead from the jiggling of her bouncing shoulders. And then with all the force of her tiny little person...it came. A huge pile of hurt rushing out of her mouth and filling the room, instantly covering Annabel in shame. When Annabel finally turned around and saw the incredible anguish of her words, her heart practically popped out of her body. She ran with urgency back to her sister and fell to her knees. Wrapping her arms around Mathilda she urged, “Oh Tildie, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean it...really, I didn’t mean it. Please Tildie, you know I love you. Please stop crying.” Benjamin stood behind Annabel and attempted to help the situation by reassuring Mathilda that she was indeed his best mate, equal only to her sister Annabel, and he couldn’t imagine one without the other. “Blimey Tildie, we’re the THREE Muskydeers ein’t we?” offered Benjamin. Finally the gentle coaxing of love from her sister began to slow Mathilda’s seemingly relentless sobbing. Now she had hiccups mixed in with gentle sobs and loads of snot. Annabel took her own sweater sleeve, spit on it a little, picked up Mathilda’s sticky hand and wiped it. Mathilda whimpered through a very runny nose and all the wetness of tears and snot caused a big slobber bubble when she spoke, making the word gum balls come out gum bowls instead. “I di.dent know...B.Bellie...I just...oh no! I dr..dropped the gum bowls...I’m s..sorry Bellie...” Attempting not to giggle, Annabel assured her baby sister with a small smile, “Ssshh Tildie, it’s okay, we can just wipe them off, it will be fine.” Benjamin nodded in reassurance from his end. Annabel wiped her sister’s tears and her profoundly running nose with the back of her sweater sleeve and propped her rain hat back up on her head. Then the sisters leaned in, resting their foreheads against each other, they looked deeply into one another’s eyes for a very long moment. Slowly a small smile started to grow between them. With this Mathilda threw her arms around Annabel’s neck and Benjamin exhaled a deep breath of relief. The Wickcliff girls were the most truest and best mates that Benjamin ever had, without exception. It had been almost a year since he sat in his bedroom window and watched in curious amusement as the moving van unloaded the entirety of the Wickcliff belongings into the two story cream house with the forest green trim, next door to his grandparents.  About June M. Pace
June lives with her soon to be husband and best friend Ray, his youngest son and their two dogs, seven chickens and two ducks, in Santa Cruz Ca. Ray’s two older kids live respectively in LA and San Francisco. June spends her days writing and sometimes painting her well known series of Rock n Roll icons.This series of work, the McTish characters, are a part of June in every sense of the word. “This work brings a deep sense of joy and passion for me in a very profound way, like nothing else that I do.”  Have you ever done something that you'd never done before? Were you scared? Nervous? or Excited? Today, I ran my first 5K. It was the Dirty Girl Obstacle and Mud Run in Grand Rapids, Michigan. Three friends signed up with me, Julie, Robin and Erika. Erika, Robin and I hadn't ever done a 5K or any other type of race. But we had a good friend Danielle who'd faced Breast Cancer this year and won. We wanted to honor her and do this event for her...but also for us.  There were twelve obstacles in the race. Walls to climb over, tunnels of mud to crawl through. A huge cargo net to climb up and ring a bell. Each one had space between them that allowed us to run or walk. We were excited to be off when they started us at 8 am. We'd justified in our minds the different obstacles and accepted the spaces between. But it was the hills of sand and the mountains we had to run up and down that we hadn't counted on.  There were hilarious moments. My bra hook got caught in one of the nets that I was crawling under and had to get some help unhooking myself. Each of us splashed the other whenever we got to the mud bogs. But the most memorable part of the day was the support of everyone, even complete strangers who stood to help others who came down walls after them. We yelled encouragement and "hoots and hollers" whenever someone made it through the obstacle, even if we didn't know them. It was a community of women who came together to donate to end breast and ovarian cancer. It wasn't a day at the spa or mud bath. It tested each of us physically and emotionally. But it was one of the best days of my life. 
What a hot cover? who wouldn't love a man with hair like that? I want to run my hands through it. Check out the blurb and excerpt from Spanish Flame.  Spanish Flame by Patricia Bates
Can an ex-con and a Spanish noblewoman find love? Ex-convict, Adam Butler, is a man hardened by betrayal and violence. When he lands in Spain, his only intention is to find a paying job so he can buy his way further west, far away from the memories of his past. Wealthy and beautiful Evangelina Ortega yearns for the ability to marry for love even as her father is forcing her to wed a man she's never met. When she arrives at her betrothed's estate, she meets Adam Butler, a man with secrets and a checkered past. Can the Spanish lady and the ex-con find happiness or will their love be destroyed by her father's determination to regain the family honor? Note: This book was previously published under the title In the Hands of a Stranger, but it has been substantially revised. Excerpt: Adam glanced behind him at the sound of hooves on stone and watched the elegant carriage roll to a halt in front of the main house. Black, trimmed with gold, the exterior of the coach gleamed in the rapidly sinking sun. The doors were covered in intricately gilded patterns of silver and gold, and pale curtains fluttered in the breeze. The team that pulled it matched the rig—six midnight black horses pranced in their harness as the doorman climbed down and set a step by the door to allow the passengers to disembark. Adam watched as the door opened and a young man of maybe thirteen hopped out, followed by a young woman a couple of years older. She was dressed in gray traveling garb, and her long, full skirts dusted the ground as she walked. Around her head white lace crested and fluttered with each movement of her head. Adam felt his breath catch when a dark-haired beauty stepped out of the carriage. The long, intricate lace veil she wore covered her elaborately styled hair but did little to hide the ebony strands. Rounded with delicate cheekbones, and a high upturned nose, her face was flawless, beautiful—unlike any other woman's he'd ever seen. Her olive complexion was so different from the aboriginal women his father had employed. He shivered as her eyes lifted away from her older companion and met his. With the force of a kangaroo kick, attraction slammed into him. He inhaled, frozen, unable or unwilling to break eye contact. Her eyes widened a degree, and he saw her plump lips part in a soundless gasp before she ducked her head, a wave of pink staining her cheeks. He glanced away as he walked toward the team. He wasn't the son of an affluent man here; there was no room for anything between them, not now. As Adam strode forward to hold the horses, he caught the look of disparagement, the lack of emotion in the depths of the older gentleman's eyes. Adam stared at the wealthy, distinguished man for a moment then began to unhitch the wheeler. "You will do well," the man said, venom lacing his words, "to keep your distance. A criado has no place near royalty." The well-dressed gentleman stared down at him, condescension in his eyes. Adam lifted his head to glare at the self-important man. "Señor, welcome to Los Santiago Hacienda." Buy Link: Beachwalk Press About the Author: Reading has been such a large part of my life. I cut my literary teeth on such authors as Louis L'Amour, Nora Roberts and Janet Dailey. For me it wasn't such a jump from reading the wonderful tales these authors spun to imagining my own. Soon I was writing poetry, short stories and by junior high I'd written my first full length romance novel. Since then I've taken my love of history and my passion for writing and combined them into what I hope will continue to prove a successful career. With six books contracted, four of which are currently available in print. All are available in electronic format with the last two ebooks due for a release in May and the other in the summer. I'm currently working on three projects, an erotic paranormal romance featuring a witch who loves Christmas, another Ancient Ireland novel, rich in the history of the Irish Celtic peoples, and plotting out a Cowboy Series tentatively titled "The James Gang". Of course I've got a lot more on the go. I'm developing and growing my editing company with some amazing authors, working on polishing my concepts and plans for upcoming books within the paranormal genres, and keeping up on my writing and being a full time mom, working outside of the house…it's amazing what one can manage in a 16 hour day. Author Links: Site Twitter Facebook {Buy the Book} To Catch a Princess by Caridad Pineiro #giveaway #blogtour #romanticsuspense8/21/2013
 What a hot cover! I'm so excited to share this story with you. Caridad has stopped by to share her thoughts with you about sex... yep, I said sex! She is offering a wonderful set of giveaway prizes to one lucky winner. Make sure you enter below. Thank you for letting me visit with you today, Melissa. I appreciate you letting me drop by to talk about something that interests all of us . . . Sex. LOL! I figured since your blog is titled Sexy Between the Covers, I'd share some sexy secrets. First, it's tough work writing about sex. Seriously. I know that's hard to believe, but it is. Especially after as many books as I've written. In each and every book there are multiple scenes and for each and every couple, I like to find unique emotions and actions that define who they are, especially during such an intimate time. Will it be fast and furious or slow and sensual? Will it change from the first time to the last? Those are all things I consider as I approach that scene. Slowly at first. Thinking about what to do. How to heighten the tension. Heighten the passion. Rise you up ever higher and higher until . . . Sigh, satisfaction. It's a tough job, but someone's got to do it. And the research is tough. Okay, I hear the snickers across the Internet. Ladies, get your minds out of the gutter, please. I mean like the research into new and interesting toys and lotions and all kinds of things, especially for a very erotic story. It's not all hands on research. LOL! TO CATCH A PRINCESS is sexy, but in a very tender and emotional kind of way. The characters both have issues to deal with, including the fact that their parents have arranged for them to marry. Neither Tatiana or Peter want for someone else to decide who they will marry, but damn if they can't keep their hands off each other! Falling into love will be rough for them since there's a lot to get over in the story, especially since they can't be distracted if they want to stop the thief who is planning on stealing millions in jewels from an upcoming charity event that Tatiana has organized. It was interesting for me to develop the scenes with them and their personal way of coming together. I found that there was a lot of humor and banter between them since they were both battling the attraction. Humor was the way they dealt with it, which made for some fun times both before, during and after the sexiness. Laughter is sexy. I fell in love with my hubby because he could make me laugh and he still does. Laughter and lightheartedness fit these characters who are about to face some very difficult times together. Laughter was the uniqueness that made their sexiness special and just theirs. For each book, I explore that for the characters so that their experiences, and yours, will be new and different in each story. What do you think is sexy? Do you like it fast and furious, slow and sensual, or a mix of both? I'd love to know (especially since right now I'm working on something uber sexy!)  About Caridad Pineiro New York Times and USA Today bestselling paranormal and romantic suspense author Caridad Pineiro wrote her first novel in the fifth grade when her teacher assigned a project – to write a book for a class lending library. Bitten by the writing bug, Caridad continued with her passion for the written word and in 1999, Caridad’s first novel was released. Over a decade later, Caridad is the author of more than thirty published novels and novellas. When not writing, Caridad is an attorney, wife and mother to an aspiring writer and fashionista.  Untold wealth, a loving family, a solid career in America: the only thing Princess Tatiana lacks is the one thing she really doesn’t want—a husband. Unfortunately, her parents have just arranged her marriage to a royal from the old country. Are they kidding? It’s the twenty-first century! Police Detective Peter Roman is a royal living incognito … and escaping a secret that has haunted his family for years. He’s been quietly in love with his best friend Prince Alexander’s sister for as long as he can remember. Little does she know that he is secretly the Grand Duke to whom she is unwillingly betrothed… When a series of high-end jewelry heists threatens Tatiana’s exclusive charity exhibition in glamorous Monaco, the two must trap the clever jewel thief before he strikes again. In a fight for their lives, Peter’s secret identity is revealed. With danger and passion increasing to the breaking point, she must decide: catch a thief…or trust the heart of her true love. Excerpt: Despite his family’s wealth, Peter had never flown in a private jet. It was a completely different experience, and one he wasn’t quite sure he liked. But then again, he wasn’t a fan of flying under any circumstances. Logic told him this was a far safer mode of transportation than a car or train, and that crashing was less likely than getting hit by lightning, but he couldn’t keep from imagining that every little bump or whine of the engines was the beginning of a death plummet. As the plane banked to one side and the cabin rattled with a bit of turbulence, he clenched his hands on the arms of his seat and gritted his teeth. He must have made some kind of noise because Tatiana looked up from the papers she had been reading for the last hour or so. “Looking green, much?” “I’m fine,” he managed to bite out past the tension in his jaw. She grinned with amusement, then contained it. Unbuckling, she walked to the seat that faced his and sat. “Took me a bunch of flights before I got used to it, too.” “Feel like a fool,” he admitted, thinking that he was losing hero points with her in a major way. She laid her hand on the taut muscles of his thigh and smoothed it reassuringly. “Let’s get your mind off the flight.” His eyebrows shot up in surprise, one thought paramount about how she could accomplish that. As she realized where his mind had gone, she blushed, and waved her hands. “No way, not the mile high club.” “Hell, no. Alexander would shoot me just for thinking about it,” he kidded, and actually managed a chuckle, but his comment only brought additional color to Tatiana’s cheeks. “You thought about it? Really?” she asked with a slight stammer. The plane did another little bounce, but the last thing he was thinking about now was dying. All he could think about was Tatiana and him in the bedroom on the plane, making love. “You’re a beautiful woman, Tatiana. I’d have to be dead not to think about about it,” he confessed.
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What a hot cover? If you love stories that sizzle, this is a story for you! I love sharing new to you authors and books!  Stolen Moments by Tara Mills
Ella knew what Neil wanted when he called, what they both wanted. Did she dare? Was an hour of passion worth the lies, broken commitments, and the risk of getting caught? Yes. Excerpt: Acutely aware she was the only woman in the place, she felt every set of eyes track her walk through the bar. Leaving several stools between herself and the next patron, she hung her purse off the back and used the rung under the chair to hop up onto the elevated seat. The bartender sauntered her way and Ella made her hushed request, "White wine, please." He had to uncork a new bottle but she was relieved to see it was a decent California label. Now she waited, sipping her wine. The negligible amount of calm she'd possessed when she walked in here faded with a self-conscious whimper. She glanced at the door then at her phone once again, checking the time and warring with herself about calling him. The more uncomfortable she got, the more she kicked her toe against the foot rail. Unfortunately, the sound drew the attention of a couple of patrons as well as the bartender. She hooked her heel over the stool support below. It was the only way to keep from fidgeting. Ella felt exposed and out of her element sitting in a place like this, nice as it was, at two o’clock on a weekday afternoon. She wanted to fold herself up small enough to hide out in her purse, but that wasn’t going to happen. The minutes stretched on and her anxiety over being approached by one of these men increased. She sent out a silent mental message to those in the room. Just leave me alone. Ignore me. I’m not here. A subtle brush, very faint across her back, made her turn. The warm body and even warmer smile on the handsome face gazing down on her caused Ella’s heart to start beating in double time. She breathed a big sigh of relief. Neil looked too good for words. He casually drew his hand over the back of her chair, his finger teasing her as it skimmed across her shoulder blades. His smile deepened when she let out a soft, involuntary moan. “I hoped you’d come. You look beautiful, Ella.” He slid onto the stool next to her. She felt the heat of her blush, the pounding of her heart. “You know I can’t stay long. I shouldn’t have come in the first place. Neither should you. What are we doing? If anyone sees me I don’t how I could possibly explain this.” “I understand your fear.” He covered her hand and gave it a squeeze. “We’ll be careful. You need to trust me. Try to relax.” "I’m trying. I am. It’s just ... the more we do this, the more chances we take that someone is going to find out." She looked down at Neil’s hand, conscious of the weight, the strength in it resting over her own. Oh god, she was going to waver. She knew she would. She always did—but only for him. All he had to do was ask. Then it came, his low, seductive invitation. “Stay with me, please? Give me an hour.” Crimson Frost Books Link Cover made by Nekkid Designs About the Author: I write stories I like to read--contemporary romances with identifiable characters and themes. Life is hard. Love makes it bearable. If you enjoy stories with heat and humor, I have a title for you. I'm a pampered wife, lucky mom to three amazing sons and one wonderful daughter-in-law, and I recently became a very young grandma. I should probably underline the word very. Oh heck, why not the word young too? Nah, you get the picture. I'm also the daily monitor of one naughty dog with attitude. Author Links: Site Facebook Twitter Join Tara Mills on August 24th at 8PM EST at Crimson Frost Books Discussion Group on Facebook 
It's always fun to share a book tour with you. Emily Wood's third book in her Rags and Riches Series is a must for her fans. Check out the excerpt and blurb today.  The Right Kind of Wrong by Emily Wood Rags and Riches Series Book 3 Maybe only someone who's been behind bars can understand how to set her free. Fresh out of jail, Jamie Pierce is desperate to change his ways and become a better person. He wants to earn enough money to get out of London for good and live a quiet life somewhere in the country. But then he meets Harriet Jones, a beautiful young fashion designer who is plagued by self-doubt, and suddenly leaving doesn't seem so simple. Harriet has spent years trying to win her father's affection, but time and time again she's been left feeling that she just isn't good enough. When she starts to fall for her rough-around-the-edges neighbor, she knows her father would never approve. It was only meant to be a fling, but maybe the person who seems so wrong for her could be just the kind of person she needs. Can Jamie help Harriet learn to believe in herself, or will she remain trapped in her own prison of self-doubt? Content Warning: explicit sex Excerpt: "I guess that's a hint for me to go." Jamie sighed. "Shame, I was enjoying myself." He hopped off the stool, and despite the rising panic about her work, Harriet felt a warm glow at his words. "Really?" "Geez, don't sound so surprised. Why wouldn't I be enjoying myself in the company of a beautiful woman?" Jamie stared down at her with that burning, intense gaze of his. Harriet squirmed. Years of being criticized had made her unable to take a compliment. "I'm not beautiful." She broke her gaze away from his, and looked back at her work. Work was what she knew, what she understood, not compliments and looks of strange, gorgeous men whom she had invited into her home with no real idea why. She felt his fingers under her chin, lifting her face so that she had to look back up at him. Even though she resisted slightly, his fingers were firm. "You are the most beautiful woman I've ever met," Jamie told her, and he looked so serious. Harriet wanted to believe it. But she knew she wasn't beautiful. "Can I kiss you again?" There was a fleeting moment of indecision in his eyes, like maybe he shouldn't, but all Harriet wanted was for him to kiss her again. "Yes." Her voice was trembling. There were so many reasons why she should have said no. But she wanted this. She wanted Jamie. His eyes fixed on hers until his soft lips found hers. Harriet savored his gentle kiss this time, marveling at his skill to ignite a passion within her that she wasn't even sure she had. When he pulled away, Harriet was left breathless. "You seem nervous," Jamie said, taking her hand, which was physically shaking. "I…I haven't touched a man since my husband and I separated," Harriet admitted. Jamie's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "You seem too young to have been married already." "Yes, well, it didn't work out," Harriet said bitterly. She looked away, trying to push down the emotions that threatened to resurface—rejection, abandonment, the feeling of never being good enough. But she was good at controlling the pain by now; she'd been doing it ever since she was a child. "I'm sorry." The fire between them was in danger of fizzling out as they stood there awkwardly, but then Jamie kissed her hand. "Anybody would be a fool to leave you." Jamie pulled her closer and started kissing her again. He tasted of beer, and Harriet hated the taste usually, but like with everything else, he made the wrong seem so right, and she loved it. She kissed him like she couldn't get enough. Boldly, Harriet raised her hands up to cup his face, the beginnings of stubble feeling grainy against her palms. She was more turned on than she could ever remember. Harriet pulled away, suddenly nervous. It wasn't like her to do things like this, and it scared her just how much she wanted it. "It's okay, we don't have to take this any further. We don't really know each other," Jamie said a little breathlessly. Harriet tried to hide her disappointment, but she knew he was right, and she wasn't the kind of girl to be this forward. "But I'm up for it if you are." Jamie's voice was more serious, and his words sent waves of desire through her body. Given her tendency to overthink things into inaction, she decided to let her body take over. There were a hundred reasons why she shouldn't do this, but she was going to go with the one reason she should—she wanted to. Buy Links: Beachwalk Press  Rags and Riches Series Book 2 A choice between two men? If only it were that simple. Melissa Morgan seems to have it all…her modeling career is taking off and she's engaged to one of the most eligible bachelors in London. But when she finds Jonathan cheating on her again, Melissa finds solace in the arms of Riley, a sexy bar owner trying to recover from the heartbreak of his last relationship. Melissa shouldn't even want Riley, but she can't seem to stay away, especially when she finds in him everything that's missing in her relationship with Jonathan. Melissa knows she has to make a hard choice, and when it comes to choosing between the life she's always wanted and the man she's falling in love with, she might find out that she can't have the best of both worlds. Beachwalk Press Buy Link  Rags and Riches Series Book 1
Can mixing business and pleasure ever result in a happy ending? When sexy, rich Lawrence Russo asks Mia to come and work for him in Italy for two weeks, she jumps at the chance. After all, it beats pole dancing, and the salary he offers her is practically obscene. A relationship quickly begins to develop between the two, but Mia can't help but wonder if Lawrence's feelings for her are genuine or if he feels he's just paying for a service. Even if their relationship is strong enough to survive her insecurities, what will happen when somebody from her past shows up and threatens to reveal her deepest, darkest secret? Beachwalk Press Buy Link ~~~~ About the Author: I have always believed that the best stories are the ones that you can't put down, the ones that transport you to a different place and make you believe in the characters. This is exactly why I write… I have always loved the escapism that reading and writing provides, and there is nothing more exciting than imagining your own set of characters, and then letting them practically write the story for you. Writing has always been a dream of mine, and I'm lucky to have the kind of people around me that have always nurtured and encouraged my passion. I live a cozy little life in Wales, and when I'm not writing I'm taking care of my young family, studying for a degree in Classical Studies, and training to become a nail technician. I love traveling to new places, meeting new people, and experiencing new things…it's all great inspiration for my books! Author Links: Site Facebook Twitter 
Don't you love finding a new favorite series or author? This story with a twist is sure to capture your heart!  11 Month Inn by Mac Rome
Lost on the Appalachian Trail, Carl Baker finds a hidden cabin called the 11 Month Inn. Inside he meets beautiful women ranging from small to towering, and finds his feelings growing fast for petite, sexy and lonely Rue. But as he learns more about the inn’s residents and their mystical secret, Carl faces a difficult choice. Does he leave without Rue to return to the life he’s known, or stay with her and leave his world behind? Excerpt: Carl came to the edge of a clearing. Before him was a log cabin – a huge log cabin. It was two stories tall. There were three windows across the top floor and two on either side of the door at the center of the front. There also was a large, wrap-around porch with a roof. The timber, while weathered, appeared to be from native trees. Carl quickly realized why the light he’d seen appeared to be from a campfire. It was firelight, but from various sources. Inside he could see candles through three windows and a kerosene lantern through a fourth. Fireplaces could be seen in the remaining two windows. As he approached, Carl spotted a small sign to the right of the door, made of the same wood as the cabin. It read, “11 Month Inn.” Although he hadn’t planned to stay at any kind of hostel or motel, this was too appealing to Carl. He walked onto the porch. Then he spotted her. She was peering through a ground-floor window at him. She had a heart-shaped face and beautiful red hair. Her complexion was pale, and her eyes ice-blue. Those big eyes were staring at Carl, looking amazed. He could tell she was tiny. Even so, the window was so low she was forced to lean over, the scoop neck of her blouse revealed ample breasts for her size. Carl stopped and waved. He wanted to appear friendly to whoever was here – and especially to this petite beauty. She stood up straight, showing off a tiny waist and a butt just round enough to be magnificent. Her left hand to her chest, she waved with her right. Then she ran backward into the room. After a few seconds, Carl heard the groan of old hinges in front of him. The tiny woman had opened the door. She beamed up at him. “Hello.” “Hi,” Carl replied. “I saw your sign. Do you have any rooms?” The woman shifted her weight onto one foot, looking up at Carl. She nodded. “There’s always a room here. Come on in.” Carl entered. “I’m sorry I don’t have a reservation.” “That’s okay,” the woman answered. “No one has a reservation except those of us who live here.” Carl grinned. “I’m Carl Baker.” The woman held out her hand. “I’m Rue.” Crimson Frost Books Link Cover Art by Nekkid Designs About the Author: Mac Rome is a lifelong resident of the Great Lakes region of the United States. He’s experienced life in the Appalachian foothills, along the Ohio river and in the flatlands of the former Great Black Swamp, and in large cities, small towns and rural areas. He’s a student of ancient lore and mythology and a lover of cultural exploration, history and dialects. He writes fantasy, science fiction and romance. Author Links: Site Blog Facebook Twitter Join Mac Rome on August 24th at 8PM EST at Crimson Frost Books Discussion Group on Facebook 
Do you love books with danger and suspense? Mystique Rogue will keep you guessing and falling for the characters.  Mystique Rogue by Diane Taylor
Scarred and cynical, Carmen Marshall and her security team are hired to protect master Illusionist The Rogue, and his white tiger. What should be a simple case of protecting a client is made even harder by the mysteries surrounding him, and the very real danger of someone wanting him dead. With both The Rogue and his tiger proving to be more then they seem, an unknown enemy, and a powerful desire haunting her, Carmen's job is proving more of a challenge than she'd ever imagined. Will the flames of passion burn to ashes, or will they consume all involved. Excerpt: Carmen grunted. "Divvy up the bonus equally between the four and put my usual fee in the bank. I don't need the bonus and these guys do. Now, what else have you got on your list of clients that you're planning to foist on me, in my innocence?" "Innocent, my ass. Miss Marshall you're the least innocent woman I know." Daria shuffled her papers on the desk, then looked up at the video camera. "What do you know of The Rogue?" Carmen shrugged. "He's a master of illusion. No one knows what he looks like underneath his mask, which makes him somewhat of a forbidden fruit to the female persuasion. Those who have tried to come on to him have gone away either pissed off or in tears. Those who have claimed to have slept with him aren't believed. The ones which are rebuffed proceed to slander and smear his name, which is really useless because he never responds to bullshit like that unless it really gets messy, then the person responsible gets a talking to." She made quotation marks in the air with her fingers. "Rumors run thick and fast about what's underneath the mask. They run the entire range of being horribly disfigured to just an affectation so he can go out into public with it off and not be recognized." She smiled slightly at Daria, "The rest of the rumors are just too outrageous to think about." "Anything else, Oh Great Abundance of Wisdom?" Her boss grinned. She smiled and took another drink of her coffee before responding. "Flattery will get you everywhere, Daria Randall. As a matter of fact, the tabloids and the internet have commented that his crew and stage hands are very tight lipped. Even his manager won't spill the beans about the props or how his illusions are done, no matter how much money is offered. More than a few people have attempted some of his more dangerous stunts, trying to duplicate and or improve on them." Carmen arched an eyebrow and looked meaningfully at her boss. "With very fatal results. At the beginning of each performance, everyone is warned not to try these stunts. They make the statement which basically says anyone attempting them is doing so under the full knowledge they were warned ahead of time." Daria nodded, "Well, according to his manager, someone's trying to sabotage his performances and possibly turn him into an illusion, permanently. From what I've read in the report I have on my desk, all the mistakes have been caught before the actual stunt was performed. But the manager wants to find out what in hell is going on and put a stop to these incidents before something really does go wrong. He's paid double the usual fee, wanting to ensure you and your team will personally handle the assignment. He said The Rogue has specifically asked for you, saying he wishes a face to face meeting before he signs any agreement." Carmen's eyes widened. "You know my rule on that, Daria. It's held true and every client has agreed to it. If he wants a video conference, we can arrange a time and place. But I do not meet face to face." "Oh come on, you can do it just this once." Daria's eyes widened and became pleading on the video screen. "If he doesn't meet you in person, he won't sign the contract. When I mentioned your rule, he said, and I quote, 'If this woman is afraid of me, then perhaps you should fire her and hire more men. At least they aren't afraid to meet face to face.'" Crimson Frost Books Link Cover Art by Nekkid Designs  This week my book Three's a Crowd is on tour. We're stopping at a variety of sites to share the blurb, excerpt and bio.
I hope you get a chance to drop by and say hello! To see where I'm going to be, check the updated links on: http://www.cblspromotions.com/2013/08/booktour-threes-crowd-sequel-to-second.html  I've drawn my winner! Thank you to everyone who stopped by to share their crazy things they did for a boyfriend/girlfriend. I liked the validation that I wasn't the only one who'd done something silly over a guy. Drumroll.... The Winner of the $5 gift card is Heather Sharpe. I've contacted her by email and will send her card as soon as she gets back to me! Thank you again and make sure you keep checking my blog. There's often giveaways and such going on!! 
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