RomCon Reader- July/August 2014 by RomCon

WINNERS!

SHAYLA BLACK & LEXI BLAKE:

T HEIR V IRGIN S U CCES S

JULY/AUGUST 2014

ISSUE #2

Cover Spotlight: SHAYLA BLACK & LEXI BLAKE Shayla & Lexi talk about their bestselling Virgin series--and what’s next.

Genre Spotlights: 14

SCI-FI: CAROLYN JEWEL

Book Excerpts: 20

Using the real world in far away stories.

URBAN FANTASY: TINA MOSS & YELENA CASALE A Touch Of Darkness

PARANORMAL: MICHELE CALLAHAN Michele’s love for werewolves is revealed, an excerpt from Tame Me with a link to a FREE read!

ROMANTIC SUSPENSE: ROBYN ROZE

Kade’s Turn

An interview plus an excerpt from Chain Of Title.

CONTEMPORARY TONYA KAPPES Everyone loves small towns.

HISTORICAL: JESSICA JEFFERSON An interview plus an excerpt from Taming Miss Tisdale. Cover image credit: Frauke Spanuth

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ROMANTIC SUSPENSE: TIFFANY SNOW

EROTIC ROMANCE: JAYNE RYLON Swinger Style

HISTORICAL: EILEEN DREYER Twice Tempted

reader question featuring LEXI BLAKE

Reader Rated Books: 35

NEWLY RATED BOOKS

ROMCON JUDGES SAY...

“Do you include tidbits from your life in your stories? Hint: shoes!

Industry Update: 42 WINNERS 10

THE RISE OF THE INDIE AUTHOR

By Jim Azevedo from Smashwords

JULY/AUGUST 2014

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Editor’s Note From the Desk of Michele Callahan What do we want? Authors, Authors, Authors! Jennifer Zane and I spent most of last week at the RWA National writer’s conference toting the readers’ ‘Wish Lists’ that we collected at RomCon ‘14 along with and a lot of business cards. We went to signings, classes, and every event we could to track down the authors you all requested for RomCon 2015. The end result? I think 2015’s Reader Weekend will be fantastic! We’ve got some exciting changes coming down the pipeline for next year. First, we’ve moved RomCon Reader Weekend 2015 to SEPTEMBER 25-27 in Denver, CO. Save the date! Second, we’re going to have two amazing events at the 2015 Reader Weekend with a new special guest hostess, the lovely and talented Barbara Vey! She will host a new event called “Sweet Saturday Night,” opposite our bachelorette party, for those who enjoy the not-quite-sowild side of the romance genre. And she’ll also be leading our Sunday morning Reader Round Table - readers talking to readers about books, books, books. (And what will we have there? Lots of what? Yes. You guessed it...BOOKS.) We hope you enjoy this August edition of the RomCon Reader. Let us know what you think, and enjoy the rest of your summer. School will start soon, and we’ll all be wishing for lazy summer days by the pool with a good book. :) Happy Reading. Michele Callahan Michele Callahan is a certifiably obsessed romance fan, an author, and the founder and President of RomCon®.To find out more about Michele and her books visit her website: michelecallahan.com.

RomCon® & The Readers’ Crown® are registered service marks of Romance Conventions Inc., 992 S. 4th Ave Ste. 100-422, Brighton, CO 80601 CORPORATE OFFICERS: Founder & President: Michele Callahan Vice President: Jennifer Zane RomCon® STAFF & VOLUNTEERS: Websites and Social Media: Blog Scheduling: Karen Docter Blog Winners: Cynthia Woolf Advertising: Jennifer Zane Book Cover Store: Jennifer Zane Stock Photography: Jennifer Zane Graphic Design: Tabatha Hansen, Jennifer Zane Content Editor: Michele Callahan Social Media Coordinator: Lori Kander Erotic Romance Group: Kasi Alexander Reader Rated Bookstore & Readers’ Crown: www.readerratedbookstore.com heather@romconinc.com Reader Judges: 500+ and counting Elite Level Reader Judges: In no particular order - (Thank you!) Amy M., Janon S., Candace C., Debbie S., Lori Y., Lorie K., Jessica D., Rebecca C., Pua T., Elaine B., Toni L., Pat R., Jan K., Dottie A., Christina M., Anita M., Laura Y., Amy W., Sheila H., Wendy P. RomCon® 2014 & RomCon® U Convention Convention Director: Michele Callahan Programs and Author Liaison: Karen Docter Programs: Maggie Mae Gallagher, Cynthia Woolf Registration and Staff: Michele Callahan RomCon Stock Photos: www.romconstockphotos.com Art Director: Jennifer Zane Advertising: RomCon Reader eMagazine: Ciick here. RomCon Website: Click here. Questions: heather@romconinc.com

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RomCon速 2014 Check out the great photos from RomCon 2014 and RomCon University, which were June 19-22 throughout the magazine!

HUNDREDS OF GOODIE BAGS!

BRIDAL SHOWER MANIA AUTHOR HOSTESSES JULY/AUGUST 2014

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RomCon速 2014

AN AMAZING AUTHOR SIGNING ...SOME FAMILIAR FACES

Jenna Bayley-Burke

Laci Paige

Elizabeth Essex

DeLaine Roberts

Tiffany Snow

Geri Foster

Karen Docter

Debra Holland

Suza Kates

Heather Graham

Patience Griffin

Zoey Derrick

Virginia Cavanaugh

Cherry Adair

Allie Pleiter

Lexi Blake

Michelle Major

Barbara Vey

Jody A. Kessler 8

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Mina Khan JULY/AUGUST 2014

RomCon Elite Judges say.... A ‘COULDN’T PUT DOWN’ BOOK THAT’S WORTH TALKING ABOUT!

Wendy

Ionia

Lori

JUST A LITTLE TABOO BY MALLORY RUSH

WORTH A CHANCE BY VI KEELAND

I truly loved this book. It was a true love story of real life.

I loved this book. Even being set in the 90’s there were a lot of things that applied to every day life now. The characters were charming and the story was a lot of fun. Mallory Rush is a great author.

Great Job. I had a hard time putting it down as I was wanting to read the mystery side of the story as well as the romance.

Debra

Amy

Amy S.

NO PRINCE CHARMING BY A. PAYNE & V. BLUE

SUPER NOVA BY JAYNE RYLON

MY WICKED NANNY BY ANN MAYBURN

Loved it! Killian and Claire were great characters with great chemistry.The sensuality between them was so hot I had to make sure I kept a fan and water close by! The story grabs you from the very beginning and takes you all the way through to the end.

This is a great read as part of the Hot Rods series.You never know what to expect, but it’s always sizzling hot.

Love this story! I will be looking for more by this author!

Tammy

Olivia

MULLIGAN’S MAGIC BY DEB STOVER A fantastic follow-up to Mulligan’s Stew, the story captured me so much that I went to your website to read the Mulligan Christmas post. Deb Stover you have a way of weaving your worlds of romance with elements that draw the reader in completely and I, for one am now a fan for life.

DARK OBSESSION BY TERRI MOLINA

CHRISTMAS KNIGHT BY KIMBERLY LLEWELYN

Truly loved this book. Great job! Can’t wait for more from this author.

Want to read the latest in romance? Want to find great new authors? Want to share your favorite books with others in the RomCon® Reader? Be an Elite Judge with RomCon® and your name could be here! Click here to learn more.

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THE RISE OF THE

INDIE EBO

n June I had the privilege of presenting three workshops at RomCon, and I was able to meet some amazing authors in the process. I’m humbled not only by the incredible stories these authors have written, or are about to write, but also by their personal journeys to success. Some authors dreamed of becoming published authors since they were little, while others discovered their talent later in life. Their common trait was their passion to create great stories. During my workshops I touched upon several key trends that are changing the publishing industry, and how these changes are impacting the author community. One of the most important trends emerging today is the rise of self-published (“indie”) ebook authors. Indie ebook authors are quickly realizing they have some important advantages over their traditionally published counterparts, which in turn, is fueling the indie ebook author revolution. It wasn’t always like this. When Smashwords launched, back in 2008, a lot of people thought our founder, Mark Coker, was crazy. After all, ebooks only accounted for about 1% of the consumer book market in the US. Who in their right mind would launch a company targeting a market that seemingly didn’t exist? If that wasn’t bad enough, Smashwords launched as an ebook self-publishing platform at a time when 99.99% of writers aspired to be traditionally published, not self-published. In 2008, nobody aspired to be a selfpublished author. Why not? If you chose to self-publish, it was like admitting your work wasn’t good enough to get picked up by a publisher. The stigma associated with being a self-published author equated to being a “failed author,” so self-publishing was the option of last resort. By the end of 2008, Smashwords released just 140 titles by 90 authors. Fast forward to today. As I write this, in July 2014, Smashwords now has more than 96,000 authors and small, independent presses who’ve collectively released over 318,000 titles. We’re seeing more and more authors who are now considering ebook self-publishing 10

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as their option of first resort. No one’s calling Mark crazy any more. So how did this change--from authors aspiring to be traditionally published to authors aspiring to selfpublish--happen so quickly? There are several reasons, but I’ll touch upon just a few of the here. First, ebook publishing and distribution has been democratized. Authors are realizing they don’t need a big New York publisher to get their ebook published, nor do they need a big publisher to get their ebook distributed into major ebook retailers and libraries. The ebook printing press and distribution to global ebook retailers is free and available to any author, anywhere in the world. Second, you can’t argue with success. Every week, indie ebook authors are scaling bestseller lists within several genres at all of the ebook retailers. Indie ebook authors are also now regularly appearing on, and scaling, bestseller lists of traditional media outlets like the New York Times and USA Today. Third, indie ebook authors have some significant advantages over their traditionally published counterparts, such as: Faster time to publish: Assuming you have a completed manuscript and book cover image, you can literally publish your ebook in a matter of minutes. Compare that to months or possibly even years working with a traditional publisher. Global distribution: Every major ebook retailer is aggressively expanding internationally, and indie ebook authors have the tools to reach this global market today. And those tools are free. Never go out of print: Let’s say you were fortunate enough to get a major, traditional publishing contract. Let’s also say your publisher ensured you received distribution into some of your favorite brick and mortar bookstores. At that point, the clock starts ticking. If your physical book didn’t start selling right away, after about 30 days the retailer would take the book off the shelves, box it up, and ship it back to the publisher for a full refund. But ebook sales develop differently.

BY JIM AZEVEDO WITH SMASHWORDS

OOK AUTHOR Readers have time to discover your book, and because you maintain control--see the next point below--you have the opportunity to update your ebook to make it more discoverable, enjoyable, accessible and affordable. Your ebook is not a static object once it’s published. It must be nurtured, and you are in... Control - As an indie ebook author your retain total creative control over your work. If you published your ebook with a less than stellar cover image, you have the power to add a new, professional quality cover image. You have the power to lower your price or run price promotions any time you want. You can update your categories or add keywords to make your book more discoverable. If your book’s description is dull, you can rewrite it so it sounds more compelling. Plus, you are in control of your book’s length, its story and its characters. The final creative opinion is yours alone. Lower expenses - Since you’re in business for yourself, you don’t have to contend with the same type of overhead concerns as the large publishing houses, such as the cost of Manhattan high-rise office space. Your low overhead enables you to offer your book at a significantly lower price than a traditionally published book. That lower price enables you to reach more readers. Readers are price conscious. Put yourself in the shoes of a consumer. If you’re trying to make a purchase decision between two books of comparable quality, yet one is priced at $2.99 and the other is priced at $12.99, most likely you would choose the $2.99 book. According to Smashwords data that tracked the sales of 250,000 titles over a 12-month period, we found that ebooks priced at $2.99 and $3.99 sold about four times as many units as books priced at $7.99 and higher. With every sale, authors gain two benefits. The first and most obvious is money from the sale. But the second, and arguably more important benefit, is that the author gains a reader. Readers can turn into fans. And fans can turn into super fans. Super fans are the ones who command their friends and family to go out buy this great book that they just finished reading. Super fans are also the first ones to preorder your next book

before it’s even released. Your ability to price lower and reach more readers faster is perhaps your greatest long term advantage as an indie ebook author. Earn more per book - Just because you can price your ebook lower doesn’t mean you’ll give up anything when it comes to earnings. Typically, indie ebook authors earn 60-80% of their ebook’s list price as their royalty. Compare that rate with a royalty rate of 12-17% for a traditionally published ebook author. So not only can you price lower and reach more readers, you’ll still earn more per book sold. In the history of the written word, there has never been a better time to be an author than right now. There are tools available for you that make ebook publishing fast, free and easy, but there is no such thing as a free tool to help you right a great book. With the power to publish also comes the responsibility to act like a superb publisher. Honor your readers with a great book, and chances are they’ll honor you back with reader word-of-mouth. Download the following three Smashwords ebook resources for free: 1. Smashwords Style Guide: Covers the step-by-step process to help authors prepare their manuscripts for ebook conversion. No technical jargon, lots of pictures. 2. Smashwords Book Marketing Guide: Provides 41 tips and techniques to help authors reach more readers, all at no cost to implement. 3. The Secrets to Ebook Publishing Success: Unveils 30 best practices of the most commercially successful indie ebook authors.

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Sci-Fi & Urban Fantasy

Sci-Fi

Urban Fantasy

JULY/AUGUST 2014

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Sci-Fi & Urban Fantasy

CAROLYN JEWEL

rue fact: I did not own a car until I was in my thirties. Once I was on my own, I always lived where public transportation was good. If I needed to drive somewhere, which happened rarely, I rented a car. Otherwise, I walked, biked, or took public transportation. I lived for years in Berkeley, California. I went for long walks with headphones, music, and lots of thoughts about whatever book I was working on at the time. When I moved to San Francisco, I also walked a lot. When my son was born and he turned out to be a colicky baby, I walked a lot at night with him in the stroller. Because I was a pedestrian, I saw neighborhoods at slow speeds. Things look different when you’re passing through in a car, or on a bus, for that matter, than when you’re walking. You can wave to people working in their yards, or stop and tell them you love their roses. You see what cars are parked where.You know what it smells like, whether the trees are big or small, the kinds of houses there are. When I started my My Immortals Paranormal Romance series, I thought, at the time, that it would be complicated enough setting demons and magicusing humans in a normal, everyday world without also struggling with setting. So I used Northern California where I grew up and live now. This definitely made things easier. But it also means that I regularly revisit, even if only in my imagination, all the places I walked, and that has been a lovely, wonderful, benefit. Sometimes I wonder what the people who lived there when I was walking through would think if they knew I’ve staged magical fights between demons and humans in their neighborhoods. I guess they’d think I’m crazy. But it sure is crazy-fun to write!haracters. It doesn’t matter all want to be loved and accepted.

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“Well thank God for any favors to come her way. Randi was about to get in trouble for the unauthorized use of magic.”

Sci-Fi & Urban Fantasy

EXCERPT FROM: DEAD DROP a My Immortals novella from the anthology Alpha’s Unleashed

allace turned around and, oh, geez, Randi stood way too close. Her stomach hollowed out with a pinch that hurt this time. She couldn’t avoid bumping into the other woman. She yelped and lifted her arm in an attempt to keep her paper cup of water from spilling all over her and the kitchen floor. The collision wasn’t an accident. No, of course not. “God, Wallace. Do you have to be so clumsy?” Randi’s smile fooled everyone, including her at first, until Wallace had become the target of the woman’s dislike. “Sorry.” The apology was automatic, and she wished she could take it back. “I didn’t know you were that close.” Randi bumped her again—again not an accident. There wasn’t anyone here to see. Water sloshed up against one side of her cup. The pit of her stomach turned into a black hole. The woman lurched back a step.“Ouch!” She looked at Randi-with-an-I and decided she’d had enough. “Now what?” Randi’s mouth went tight. “What the hell did you do?” “Nothing.” Wallace stared at the paper cup in her hand.Whole. Full of water. Her stomach remained hollowed out. There wasn’t much worse than a pissed off witch who hated people like her. People like her meaning “not very talented.” In all fairness, other obvious reasons for Randi’s issues with her appeared not to be a factor. She was doing her best to keep an open mind about that. Some people were not nice. That was Randi. They were in the kitchen at Maddy Winters’ Kensington home, two bus rides and a long, long walk from Wallace’s South Berkeley apartment. Randi lived in San Francisco and drove a red Lexus. Randi hooked a finger in the cup Wallace held and jerked. Water went airborne. The black hole in her mid-section shifted, and it was like being on the ocean in bad weather; her usual reaction to conflict—it made her sick to her stomach. There was a hiss, and then the only thing

left of the water was steam, and that odd hollowness in her stomach, and the nausea. She’d been reacting to conflict like that since foster home number three, starting when she was eight or nine. She was twentysix now, and nothing had changed. Randi staggered back a step, one hand on her upper chest. Her mouth and eyes twisted up in pain. “What the—ouch.” “Are you okay?” Wallace had never, ever been able to see anyone in distress and do nothing about it. She reached for Randi and got her hand slapped away. “Listen to me, you no talent street bitch.” Street bitch was Randi’s favorite rhyme for “street witch.” A term, it so happened, that barely applied to Wallace, and one that Randi didn’t use when others were around to hear. She’d been called a lot worse. A lot. “I don’t know what you did, but that was out of line.” Randi put her hands on Wallace’s shoulders and shoved. “You are nothing. Nothing, you hear me?” Wallace hit a limit she hadn’t known she had. For the sake of getting along, she’d put up with a lot of bullshit from Randi. Dozens of verbal jabs disguised as jokes that Wallace let slide because she did not want the stress. But this? Crossing into the physical? No. “Leave me alone, Randi.” Randi leaned close. “If you ever do that again, I will harm you.” “Maddy won’t like that.” They both heard a commotion from the living room. Randi lowered her voice. “Who do you think she wants around in the long run? A no talent like you? Or me?” She set her weight on one hip. “I really don’t think there’s going to be any contest.” Wallace willed the woman to settle down. The calmer and more peaceful Wallace was, the calmer others were. That had been her lifelong observation. After years of being picked on as a girl, taunted for being poor, for being an orphan, for being tall, being black, too smart, too dumb, not black enough, for being different, she’d developed a gift for internal serenity. “What the ever loving hell?” Maddy Winters strode into the kitchen where Wallace and her nemesis JULY/AUGUST 2014

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Sci-Fi & Urban Fantasy stood in silence. Her pointy-toed shoes clicked with authority, and her eyes were big and wide and fixed on Randi. Well thank God for any favors to come her way. Randi was about to get in trouble for the unauthorized use of magic. “Randi?” Maddy was all of what, five feet tall and a hundred pounds soaking wet? There wasn’t a single person in his house who wasn’t afraid of Maddy if she was angry. Not so for Wallace. She could be angry enough to end the world, and she wouldn’t scare anyone. Not that she would ever get that angry, but if she did, she wouldn’t impress anyone. Nobody, but nobody, took her seriously in that respect. Her one, meager, talent had nothing to do with magical power, though it had kept her alive through a lot of unpleasantness. Without her ability defuse a volatile situation, she’d have been dead a long time ago. “I’m sorry, Maddy.” Randi smoothed her golden hair into place. “I guess I overreacted.” “What happened?” “I was getting a drink, and she was here.” That was a familiar tone of scorn. Maddy shot Wallace a glance. Wallace kept her expression neutral. Nothing would touch her. Randi was all about the wide-eyed incredulity. Honestly, you’d think she was the nicest person in the whole world. “She jostled me.” “Say what?” Wallace lost a bit of her I don’t give a shit about this attitude. “You ran into me.” Randi pointed at her. “And I was just so hyped up from our practice, I couldn’t stop myself. I didn’t mean it, Maddy. Honestly, I didn’t. You know I’m working on my control.” Randi’s saccharine smile disappeared when she faced Wallace. “I apologize. I should not have used magic against anyone, but especially someone as defenseless as you.” True. It was true, and she, from her place of disturbed serenity, summoned a smile. Her stomach stayed empty, and it was making her lightheaded. God, she wanted this to be over. Back to no one paying attention. She’d just sit in the back, failing at everything, and they’d all just leave her alone. “I got fed up.” Randi bounced up on her feet. Quite the trick in those shoes. She looked to Maddy for support. Wallace couldn’t tell what Maddy thought, but nothing good, considering her frown. “Fed up over what?” Maddy said. 16

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“Wallace. We’re all fed up with her. I’m sorry, Maddy, but she contributes nothing. It’s just so much easier when she’s not here.You must have noticed that. And then she was in here giving me a hard time.” “No. No I was not.” She did not raise her voice. She’d seen this dynamic played out way too often to think that being angry would help her right now. Her lack of talent, and her deep and abiding desire to avoid conflict, however, did not mean she had to listen to Randi tell lies with that innocent who me? voice. Wallace ignored the emptiness biting at her stomach, that seasick-like movement. Randi’s anger smoothed out. And then she smiled, but that was because most of the others walked into the kitchen. Maddy’s frown did not change. Wallace looked past Randi and crumpled her paper cup. Great. Palla and Moeletsi Tau were at the head of the line of onlookers. The Yin and Yang of male perfection those two; fit, cut, gorgeous, one white and one black, one an utter asshole, and the other the most patient being on earth. The rest were woman Maddy insisted had talent, coming in from the living room where they’d been practicing according to the rules Maddy laid down. Aside from Palla and Moeletsi, they were all street witches, and all of them had more talent in their little fingers than she had in her entire body. “It’s about time someone said something. Your incompetence. You hold us all back. You don’t belong here.” Maddy held up her hands. She caught Wallace’s eye and there was a thousand years of understanding there. More of the same old bullshit. Wallace might not be much of a witch, but there were things she had in common with Maddy that nobody else did. “Stop it. Right now.” Palla leaned against the counter nearest to him and crossed his arms over his chest. He had a five o’clock shadow going, probably for show, given what he was, and he looked scary as hell. Not for show. He nodded at Wallace. “She dead drop you?” “Whatever that means.” Nothing good, that was for sure. “Did she cut off your magic?” He had a deep voice, not a trace of accent. Pure white California. Someone in the back of the crowd laughed. That was directed at her because Wallace didn’t have much magic to cut off. “No, sir.” She hated herself for that. Calling him

Sci-Fi & Urban Fantasy sir. But her years spent on the streets and in and out of various shelters had drilled into her the safety in showing respect to someone in authority. “No, sir, she did not.” He gave her one of his patented fuck you, bitch glares. She didn’t take it too personally. Palla was an equal opportunity hater. “Did you dead drop her?” Randi whirled on Palla. “She absolutely did not.” “That’s enough.” Maddy Winters had a lot of presence. Enough to make Palla lapse into silence. The kitchen got quiet.

Contact Carolyn: http://www.carolynjewel.com

http://www.pinterest.com/carolynjewel/ http://www.facebook.com/CarolynJewelAuthor

Author Bio Carolyn Jewel Sci-Fi Author

arolyn Jewel was born on a moonless night. That darkness was seared into her soul and she became an award winning author of historical and paranormal romance. She has a very dusty car and a Master’s degree in English that proves useful at the oddest times. An avid fan of fine chocolate, finer heroines, Bollywood films, and heroism in all forms, she has three cats and a dog. Also a son. One of the cats is his.

https://www.twitter.com/cjewel

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RomCon速 2014

FABULOUS EVENTS ALL WEEKEND LONG

ROMANTIC SUSPENSE CHAT PANEL

IMPROV- WITH ROMCON FLAIR 18

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PARANORMAL READER PARTIES

FUN & GAMES WITH YOUR FAVORITE AUTHORS

INTIMATE CHATS JULY/AUGUST 2014

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Sci-Fi & Urban Fantasy

urban fantasy EXCERPT:

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Sci-Fi & Urban Fantasy

Winner: 2014 Readers’ Crown Award Best Urban Fantasy

assie moaned as the remnants of the attack wore off. She opened her eyes to stare into her dream man’s gaze. Oh, just great. I need to dream about him again? Her body already tingled with pleasure at the familiar vision.A trench coat molded to his tall frame. Across his chest, droplets of water clung to a black shirt, then dripped down to run over his dark jeans and heavy boots. Gabe. The name came to her. How do I know his name’s Gabe? Reality flooded back with a vengeance, the whole encounter snapping into focus as if the picture emerged from a snowy TV. What she didn’t recall was what happened after and why this man was now here, in her apartment. Her gaze darted around the room, looking for something to use as a weapon. Bookcases lined the far wall with plenty of thick books inside, but she’d never make it past him to reach the shelves. A tiny statue of a marble angel stood on top of the old TV just a foot out of her reach. Next to the TV sat an opaque yellow vase with a couple of long-stemmed white calla lilies. Neither the statue nor the vase, she decided, would be adequate for the job. When she couldn’t find a satisfactory weapon, she opened her mouth to yell. Before she could utter a sound, Gabe moved so fast she saw him in nothing more than a blur. His hand covered her mouth and he breathed into her ear. “You fainted. I had to get you home, off the street. Please don’t scream. I mean you no harm. I promise.” As if to punctuate his last words, he took his hand away. Cassie suppressed the rising terror as she considered the situation and chose anger instead. She narrowed her eyes and curled her hands into fists. “How did you find out where I live if I was unconscious?” she said, her body tensing in the fight or flight response. “Your wallet. I went through it.” “Oh...” Her hands remained fisted. “You’re a strong woman, but you shouldn’t direct your anger at me.” He went to touch her shoulder, but she flinched away. “Look,” he said. “There’s something we need to talk about. But first tell me, how long have

you had these headaches, this pain?” “How do you know about them?” Her voice raised an octave higher. “I just know. I also know what they mean. Do you?” He seemed eager to hear the answer. “I’ve had these episodes forever,” Cassie said, unsure why she answered him. “They’ve been getting worse lately.” Her head titled to the side. “Are you a doctor or something?” “And have you ever felt any other feelings or sensations during or after the headaches?” Gabe went on, ignoring her last question. “Yes...Maybe...But how on earth would you know?” “Tell me more,” Gabe insisted, his voice flowing smooth like water. She pressed her lips together and shook her head. “Enough. I’m not telling you anymore until you tell me what the hell is going on, who you are and what you want from me.” Cassie heard him whisper under his breath, “Easy...” It seemed more instructions to himself than to her. She ignored it and waited for his answer. “Cassie, I know everything I’m going to say will sound crazy to you, but you’ve got to listen to me. Haven’t you ever wondered at all the weird things happening to you over the years, at the feeling you get with the headaches, the energy?” She was about to interrupt but he raised his hand to silence her and continued, “This is not going to be easy for you to understand but...there’s more to you than you think.” And I thought I was crazy. Cassie started to tremble. “What’s that supposed to mean?” “Well...you’re not exactly...technically...you’re not...” He struggled with whatever he was trying to get out. “Just say it.” Gabe locked his gaze with hers. She didn’t look away. She couldn’t. “You’re not completely human.”

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RomCon速 2014

SWAG & GOODIE OVERLOAD!

PARANORMAL

JULY/AUGUST 2014

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PARANORMAL

SPOTLIGHT AUTHOR

MICHELE CALLA I

have always loved werewolves. And Vampires. And hot aliens. And…you get the idea. When I write, I tend to go dark. I have been known to give myself nightmares upon occasion. (I totally could not live in Stephen King’s head.) I was thinking about werewolves. Why are they so darn hot? Personally, I think it’s because they are so close to animal instinct. Scent. Touch. Pack families. That primal existence has always appealed to me. One day, while daydreaming (I do that a LOT and occasionally will miss highway exits, turns, whole buildings while driving…) I dreamed of a pack of wolves that lives with a very strict code of honor, where women have the right to choose their males, but the men also have a chance to win them over… without sight or scent. Just touch. I think the way a man touches a woman speaks to how he feels about her. Is his touch hungry? Caring? Passionate? Tender or hurried? Dominant or exploratory? I wanted to explore what would happen if a woman had no other sense to rely on to choose a man, but the way he touched her. I find the idea fascinating and sexy. No preconceived notions. No pretty faces or scars to sway a lover’s opinion. Then Nika showed up in my head and started talking to me. She’s a powerful werewolf shifter. Passionate and courageous. She’s a fighter. It’s her night to be claimed, but she’s been rejected by the one male she wanted. So, now what? What happens when the hot, alpha werewolf of her dreams walks away on the very night she is forced to choose a mate? What if the other males who try to claim her know she in love with another? Will they seduce Nika into submission? Will another male’s kiss

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scorch her soul? Will she be forced to resist her own body’s traitorous desires? Surrender to a new lover? I wrote this short werewolf story for fun, and loved it. Eventually, I’d like to explore other members of the pack. They’ve been waiting while I finish up my Timewalkers and launch my hot alien, sci-fi series, the Chimera. But until these smoking hot werewolves get to take center stage, I hope you all enjoy this FREE READ. Happy reading!

EXCERPT FROM TAME ME

he cold night air caressed Nika’s overheated skin and caused tendrils of steam to float up from her flesh like tiny ghosts rising and dancing in the moonlight. Naked beneath the traditional claiming robe, the bright white and translucent, the garment fell to her feet in a silken wave meant to tease every male present with glimpses of her ripe body. Male voices floated heavy on the night’s breeze with only one other woman in sight to attend her. The female was next in the line of claiming, a mere two months younger than Nika, Alana also happened to be her very best friend. “Are you ready?” Alana waited to place the ceremonial silk over Nika’s eyes, her hands shaking worse then Nika’s. “No.” Nika shook her head and searched the

PARANORMAL

AHAN gathering crowd of single males. Many were here from neighboring packs, men who would not honor a prior relationship, men who would not give her quarter for her foolish silence. They watched her, lust and need in their eyes as they inhaled her scent on the air and growled at one another like dogs fighting over a bone. “What have I done?” Alana wrapped her much cooler fingers around Nika’s bound hands and squeezed in a show of support. “Don’t worry. I good man will claim you, a male who won’t allow any of these weaklings to touch you. There are only a handful of males who could hope to win a challenge this night, and none of them will if a Recon stakes his claim. And a strong male $$will claim you.” Nika appreciated her friend’s efforts to reassure her, but she wasn’t convinced. She wanted Ryland. She’d had a chance to make her desires known to the entire pack, but she’d been a scared little rabbit, afraid Ryland would laugh at her if he knew. Ryland had been her childhood playmate and friend. He was young by pack standards, but strong. The pack Alpha had made him a Recon Scout. All future Alphas were in Recon, but he was only a year older than she and most of the males didn’t claim a mate until their third decade. She hadn’t even considered anyone else as a possible mate. Then again, none of the others from her pack had appealed and Ryland had never shown the least bit of interest. She’d resigned herself to hoping a gorgeous and irresistible hunk from a neighboring pack would sweep her off her feet. From the growing number of males in the moonlight, it appeared she’d been granted her stupid wish. Tonight was the first quarter moon since she’d reached the Age of Ascension. Tonight she would be

claimed by one of the single males, and that male had until sunrise to convince her to keep him. Few women resisted, but it had happened. Just last month in fact, when the Alpha’s daughter had rejected the male who’d tried to claim her. It was the first time in two decades a male’s claim had been denied. Nika grinned at the prospect of shocking them all again. She had to. She hadn’t realized how badly her body burned for Ryland until he’d walked away from the village last night, told her he wouldn’t return until after the claiming. She’d searched for him for two days, running the hills in her wolf form, always a step behind the stronger, faster wolf. In the end, she’d given up the hunt and left him her token. She could only hope he’d find it and understand. If not, she was about to spend the next few hours blindfolded and seduced by one of the large males milling around the edges. There were over twenty single males present but she only wanted one, and he wasn’t here, had no idea she desired him... JULY/AUGUST 2014

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PARANORMAL Alana stepped behind her and placed a cool hand on her shoulder. “Kneel, Daughter of the Moon, and accept the cloak of truth.” Nika knelt on the soft earth and closed her eyes. The scarf of black silk covered her eyes, blinding her to vanity. The male who claimed her would have to woo her with his strength, his skill, and his touch. No words were allowed, and Nika’s sense of smell had been sabotaged by the herbal concoction the old healer gave her that afternoon. The drink killed her sense of smell as well as guaranteed no child would result from the evening’s activities. She truly would be blind. Alana whispered one last reassurance in Nika’s ear, “He’ll come for you.” Nika shuddered and tested the strength of the bonds around her hands. Not unbreakable, not for a werewolf like herself, but the submission they symbolized suddenly chafed. She didn’t want any male but Ry touching her. Unfortunately, she’d already messed that up and now she’d have to pay the price. Her new plan was to survive the night’s seduction, reject whichever male was unlucky enough to try to claim her, and resume her hunt for Ry on the farthest edges of their mountain territory tomorrow. If he rejected her, fine, but at least she’d know and would be able to live the rest of her life with no regrets. “Who would claim the Right of Seduction this night? Challengers, step forward.” The Alpha’s command boomed through the small clearing and silence descended through the woods. Alana gave her shoulder one last squeeze and walked away, leaving Nika to face her fate and the males eager to tame her. There was a massive movement and Nika’s heart pounded as she heard the preliminary sounds of battle. Her ears were working just fine. There were at least five men jostling, growling, and threatening each other. She wanted to roll her eyes, but the effect would’ve been completely lost behind the black silk. All she had to do was survive this night, after that she’d have the right to seduce any single male of her choosing. She’d be allowed to tie him down and claim her own Right of Seduction. The shuffling, growling and posturing noises died down and Nika held her breath. “Three warriors claim the Right of Seduction this night. So be it.” The Alpha’s aged voice quieted the forest again. “Let their names be written in the archive.” Nika heard the dutiful scratching of a pen, and 28

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then a pregnant silence that stressed her nerves to nearly breaking before the Alpha spoke again. Three males willing to fight each other for the right to touch her. Goose bumps broke out over her flesh and she shivered in the cold night air. Anticipation, or dread? She wasn’t sure which. “Warriors, you know the rules. Break them, and you will be executed. Foreign brothers, we will give no quarter to you should you step out of bounds.” Nika’s chest squeezed. Foreign brothers. Men from another pack were here, men who were about to touch her...unless. She had one last chance. She straightened her shoulders and pictured Ryland’s broad chest, his tight ass and perfect jaw. It was his hooded gaze she imagined boring into her soul as the Alpha finally addressed her. “Daughter of the Moon, we honor you this night. Three fine warriors would claim you as mate. They have the right to know if your heart still beats in your chest, or if it travels with another.” Truth in all things. That was the pack way. The men had the right to know if the woman they attempted to claim was in love with another man. Didn’t mean it would stop them, but they would know what they were up against. “No heart beats in my chest, Alpha. It has been given away.” “And is the warrior you would accept as mate here this night?” Nika hung her head, ashamed and embarrassed by the truth. “No, sir. He is not.” A low growl sounded from one of the three who stood just a few feet before her. Great. Somebody loved a challenge. The Alpha proceeded with the ceremony and addressed the warriors present. “Knowing her heart belongs to another, do you still wish to claim her?” Could it be that easy? Would they walk away? The Alpha’s sigh dashed that small hope. “So be it. Two warriors remain, and they claim the Right of Initiation.” Nika raised her head, hope filling her, making her dizzy. Initiation to their touch with single a kiss. If she didn’t respond, they’d walk away. No suffering through hours of lust and agony, denying the male any true pleasure. One kiss each. She could do that…

PARANORMAL

I hope you are enjoying Nika’s journey. To continue reading this FREE erotic short story, visit http://michelecallahan.com. See you soon!

Author Bio Michele Callahan Paranormal Author

Contact Michele: http://www.michelecallahan.com http://starboundlovers.blogspot. com/ https://www.facebook.com/michele. callahan.142 @michelecallahan

ichele Callahan is a wife, mother, romance and science fiction addict, and founder of RomCon, the only Fan Convention geared toward women who read romance and genre fiction. She suffers from a dangerous case of sci-fi/fantasy fever and never turns down an opportunity to sit through a Star Wars, True Blood, or Matrix marathon. Her favorite things in books; hot heroes, superpowers, freakish things that can’t be explained by modern science, and true love! Her past jobs include fast-food drive through goddess, nurse’s aide, cashier, anatomy & physiology instructor, medical office manager, and entrepreneur. When she’s at home her life is ruled by her family plus two 100 pound rescue dogs and their wagging tails (which should really be classified as dangerous weapons).

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Romantic Suspense

UTHOR INTERVIE with Spotlight Author

hat are you most proud of in your personal life?

My marriage. I’ve been married for twenty-six years to my high school sweetheart (known him thirt are still best friends. No one else can make me laugh the way he does and the older you get, the mo

to do—trust me.

What is your favorite quote, by whom, and why?

I have many, but one does stand out that relates to writing: write something you want to read. I don’t know who to cred I do take it to heart. My primary reason for writing is to create the kind of stories I want to read. I hope others will wa What’s your favorite place in the entire world?

Without doubt, my favorite place in the world is home. I have everything I need there and live with my three most favorite It doesn’t get much better than that. I took a fabulous trip with my mom in 2013 to Peru, Brazil and Argentina. The high Picchu and Iguassu Falls—truly incredible, and I highly recommend it. But like every trip I’ve ever been on, my favorite pa How did you come up with the title of your latest release?

Chain of Title is a pun. First, it has to do with the way the main character, Shayna, describes marriage and her relationship to do with a large parcel of land for which the chain of title is at issue and becomes a contentious catalytic point in the Tell us about your main character?

Shayna Montgomery is in the second act of her life, having just ended a twenty-five-year marriage. For the first time, s and has rediscovered who she is during the three-year separation and subsequent divorce from Frank Chastain. She is and reevaluates the life she has been living, deciding to dust off the dreams she’d shelved long ago when she chose to aspirations. It is a rebirth for her and not one her family and friends are happy about. Is Chain of Title realistic?

Well, the book is fiction, but it’s entirely plausible. Chain of Title is about secrets, choices, forgiveness and how the chara obstacles placed in front of them. Most of us will not experience the extremes the people in my story do, but we’re a degrees, by our own choices and those of others. Will there be a sequel to Chain of Title?

It is possible but not necessary. Chain of Title is a standalone novel; however, the epilogue lifts the veil and, in doing s of change. The pragmatist in me understands that HEA’s in life and fiction are temporary. Nothing lasts forever. The o change. My stories reflect that truth.

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EW:

Romantic Suspense

Robyn Roze

ty-five years) and we ore laughing you need

dit for this quote, but ant to read them, too.

e people in the world. hlights: seeing Machu art was coming home.

p to it. Second, it has story.

she is without a man s strong, independent follow her husbandâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s

acters respond to the all affected, to varying

so, reveals the winds one constant in life is

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41 41

Romantic Suspense

EXCERPT FROM CHAIN OF TITLE

“

A man like Frank Chastain doesn’t just drop to his knees for no good reason, Shayna,” Sara Jordan chided discretely.

“Then maybe you should marry him, Sara,” Shayna retorted. “You could certainly live with him banging a twenty-something, couldn’t you? After all, that’s just what men do, isn’t that what you told me? I shouldn’t make more out of it, just let him get it out of his system. He’s a powerful man. That’s what powerful men do, right?” Sara’s face shaded red. Shayna’s unrestrained, all too public remarks had begun to draw attention from nearby tables. “Lower your voice, Shayna,” Charlotte whispered next to her. “Why? Is Frank the only one allowed to make a scene?” Shayna spat back. “You have to know this has been hard on him, Shayna. The last few years have been tough on a lot of businesses, and when half your money has been tied up and then is just gone, well, it makes things a bit more difficult,” Charlotte said in a pompous professorial tone. Shayna looked around the table, making eye contact with each woman. She snorted loudly and started laughing, causing palpable discomfort in the group. “So, let me get this straight, ladies. The fact that I took half of Frank’s money has meant that he can’t pull as many strings for your husbands—right? Can’t oil the wheels; can’t pay the kickbacks that keep you all in your Jimmy Choos, Prada, and Chanel?” Sharp inhales and exhales blustered indignantly around the table. Shayna slammed her hand on the table to the resounding clatter of cutlery and fine china. It was as if all the air sucked out of the room at that moment. Shayna continued in a low throaty tone. “Allow me to set the record straight. I didn’t take anything. I earned every cent. Think of it as a return on my investment, beginning with my initial 42

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investment that started Frank’s business in the first place, not to mention my investment in a twenty-twoyear marriage that ended when my ungrateful husband chose to humiliate me by banging his twenty-year-old receptionist. A situation I’ve no doubt everyone at this table but me knew about. You didn’t think enough of me to clue me in. Don’t worry, though. I understand why you didn’t. You simply wanted to maintain the status quo, not to mention we were never really friends anyway—more like business associates.” Shayna sat back in her chair and drummed her fingers methodically on the table as the stunned group gaped at her. “I have participated in and perpetuated this charade long enough. I don’t want to play anymore.” Shayna stood and gathered her purse. Looking around at the women she added, “By the way, you all owe me, so I’m sure you won’t mind divvying up my bill.” With that, Shayna turned and cut through the highend restaurant booked with Mt. Pleasant’s movers and shakers. She could already hear the whispers and feel the stares, but she simply smiled, unperturbed, and strolled out as confidently as if she owned the place— because if she wanted to, she could.

Romantic Suspense

Author Bio Robyn Roze

Romantic Suspense Author

Contact Robyn: http://www.robynroze.com/ http://www.facebook.com/ robynrozeauthor http://www.twitter.com/ robynrozeauthor http://www.pinterest.com/ robynroze/

am a wife and mom who masquerades as an accountant by day. By night, or whenever I can fit it in, I live my childhood dream and write romantic suspense tweaked with some thrills. The heroines I create vary in age, life experiences and skills, but all are independent and on journeys of self-discovery, which lends itself to a women’s fiction voice, as well. Now you know: I am an unrepentant genre jumper. I may even decide to blend, or jump into, other genres along my writing path. Only time will tell, and that’s the really fun part: seeing, and reading, what happens next. I hope you will consider joining me. And if you have the time, please visit any of the other web platforms I frequent. I love hearing from readers!

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Romantic Suspense

KAD irritation. Moving again, he finally caught a glimpse of her face as she turned away from the metal detector.

ored, Kade glanced at his watch. He’d gotten there early. They’d since fixed the metal detector and now the line to get in the courthouse was slightly backed up. Shifting his weight, he leaned against the wall and looked casually back at the entrance, making mental notes of those in line. Hello. What have we here? Kade’s gaze swiveled back to the spot in line where a woman stood waiting. She had the most unusual shade of hair he’d ever seen. He couldn’t see her face yet, she was a little thing, but her hair stood out in the crowd. It was the color of the sunset, golden with a hint of rose. Without even thinking about it, Kade moved from his position by the wall, drawing closer into the crowd just to get a better glimpse of her. He was close enough to hear the security guard when he spoke to her, his voice booming out. “Kathleen! How’s it going on this fine day?” Hank asked her. Kathleen. Kade liked that. But he still couldn’t see her face or hear her reply to Hank. Her voice was too soft to carry. Someone stepped in front of Kade, temporarily obscuring his view, and he had to tamp down his

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For a moment, he couldn’t breathe. She was beautiful, her face and smile radiating youth and innocence. Even from where Kade stood, he could see she had blue eyes. Of course she did. Her skin was the color of cream and was flawless, a hint of pink in her cheeks betraying the chill in the air outside. She looked like a fairytale princess who’d just stepped from the pages of a storybook. Kade stopped in his tracks. He’d unconsciously taken several steps toward her. What was he going to do, ask her out? Yeah, he could see how that would go: “Um, excuse me, you don’t know me, and if you did, you’d probably run screaming the opposite direction, but can I buy you coffee or dinner, then take you to my apartment and spend the next several days in bed with you?” As a pick-up line, it wasn’t one of his better ones. Kade watched as she walked away down the hallway and turn a corner out of sight. It didn’t matter. He could tell without even speaking to her that she wasn’t his type, his type usually being the kind that weren’t looking for more than a quick hookup where names were optional. A step above having to pay for it, but not by much. Kathleen looked like the kind of girl who liked flowers and slow-dancing, who’d no doubt never had a hard day in her life, or any cause to ever, ever hold a gun. She was the kind of girl you fell in love with and

Romantic Suspense

DE’S TURN EXCERPT COMING AUGUST 25

brought home to mom. That caused a long-buried pang to echo through Kade and he pushed the thought aside. Christ, what was he doing? Going all gooey-eyed and maudlin just because he saw a pretty girl? Obviously, he’d gone too long without killing someone. Maybe Junior… But no. Blane would get pissed if he killed that little snot. Not that he couldn’t make it look like an accident, but Blane would know and then Kade would have that to deal with. Kade took another sip of coffee, then tossed the rest in a nearby trash can. As he did, he heard screams and commotion coming from down the hallway where Kathleen had gone. He followed the crowd, moving quickly through the press of people until he was able to see what the problem was. The girl, Kathleen, was being held hostage by a man wearing a rumpled suit and desperate expression. He held a knife to her throat. Well, fuck.

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ON THE ROAD

San Antonio, Texas

TEXAS BBQ AT THE BUN N’ BARREL!

THE ALAMO

SILLY TIMES WITH BARBARA VEY

Contemporary

CONTEMPORARY

usa today bestselling author

Tonya Kappes: Readers Love Small W ho doesn’t love driving through a small town where everyone waves at you when you drive by, take their time crossing the street, or belly up to the local watering hole for an ice tea or cold beer to catch up on the latest gossip? I admit it. I grew up in a very small town in Kentucky. I knew everyone by name and if I didn’t…I asked. By the end of the conversation I could tell you where they came from, what they were doing in town, and their entire life history. Just like any teenager…I couldn’t wait to get out of that small town.After all, before I got home, my parents already knew who I was with and what I had been doing before I could even tell them.Word got around fast. I moved away to a city and loved that everyone didn’t care what I was doing or who I was doing it with. Not many years after I had left my small town, I found myself dreaming about my hometown. I wondered what everyone was doing. If they were stopping by the local drug store for a fountain drink or if they were just being lazy on a porch swing talking to the neighbors (gossiping of course) or what the crazy cat lady was up to. As a writer I tapped into those feelings and started to make up my own town with characters that had problems and gossip would swirl around about them. It was a perfect beginning to plotting my new series A LAUREL LONDON MYSTERY. In CHECKERED CRIME, my small town has all the comforts of everyone knowing everyone and the local hangouts, but it also has the side of the family that most people want to keep in the closets-the crazy, wacky ones! OR those romantic hook-ups that need to stay buried in the closet. I love writing and incorporating that one quirky character in all of my novels. There is always one crazy 50

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town folk in every small town that everyone knows. In my new series, A LAUREL LONDON MYSTERY, the reader will get the warm, fuzzy small town feeling with the ups and downs of a romance along with the hysterical fits of laughter of petty crime thief Laurel London who has lost her job as a port-a-potty salesmen. Of course, no one in town wants to give her a job because of her past, which a past is a hard thing to overcome in a small town—but hot, hunky police officer Derek Smitherman believes in his old pal and helps her out. Little does she realize the extended hand of help leads to a connection to the mob, putting her on the watch list of Walnut Grove, Kentucky’s newest resident, Jax Jackson. Jax is an undercover FBI agent and forces Laurel to become an informant or he will bring up federal chargers from her past discretions. The thing with a small town, one good deed will wipe your past clean. With that in mind, Checkered Crime is full of murder, mystery, romance, and laughs in a small town setting that becomes as much of a lead character as Laurel London. Small towns create a sense of belonging for the reader. The communities of characters all know each other, giving the reader a more character driven story. Plus we all know that delicious secrets and juicy scandals all happen in small towns giving the readers an amazing full-body character that holds many mysteries that is waiting to be told.

“How did you selling po

CONTEMPORARY

SNEAK PEEK: Checkered Crime

Towns

get fired from ort-a-lets?”

“

Chapter One Thank God you’re here,” I hollered to Derek Smitherman who had his head stuck under the hood of a car, his usual position. I slammed the door of the old VW van. “Thanks for lunch.” I waved off the guy I had hitched a ride with after our lunch date. I adjusted my black wrap dress so it was wrapped in all the right places. Contorting his body, Derek stood up and turned around. He took the dirty oily rag from the back pocket of his blue mechanic overalls and wiped his hands, leaving some smudging on them. He pushed the largeframe black glasses up on the bridge of his nose. It was a shame he covered up that body; I bet every single woman in Walnut Grove, Kentucky would take their car to him for all of their repairs if he wore a white v-neck t-shirt and a pair of snug Wranglers. Most of the time women got lost in his steel-blue eyes, so bright against his black hair. But if they only knew what was underneath all the clothes… For years Derek and I used to go skinny dipping in the river until one day our stares lingered a little too long, and we realized our bodies where no longer those of little kids. Derek had grown into a hot dude right before my eyes and I never saw it coming.Too bad I could only think of him like a brother. “I need your help.” I stuck my hands out to the side like I was on a balance beam, trying to keep my fivefoot-eight frame upright on my high-heels because the loose pieces of the beat-up concrete walkway made me a little wobbly. I grabbed the lanyard from around my neck with my Porty Morty’s ID stuck in the clear pouch and threw it in my bag. “I’m not going to need that any time soon. What about that help?” I hopped onto a piece of concrete slab that was mostly intact, once again having to readjust the wrap dress. “I learned my lesson a long time ago that before I agree to help you with anything that I better have all the details of what it is you want.” His brows frowned, his eyes narrowed. “Every single detail.” “Simple. I need a car.” I took the toe of my heel and JULY/AUGUST 2014

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CONTEMPORARY batted around a piece of loose concrete to avoid all of the questions that were going to follow. “No way, no how am I going to help you out.” Derek looked over my shoulder at the beat-up van. His five o’clock shadow was a little thicker than normal. The gears grinded before the driver of the VW gave us the peace sign and took off. I took a couple steps forward and rubbed the back of my hand down his chin. “No wonder you can’t get any ladies. Clean yourself up.” I messed up his hair. He jerked his head back. He quirked his eyebrow questioningly. “Who was that?” He asked in a “good ole boy” voice and jerked his head to the right, getting a better view of the VW. “Gary. . .um. . .Barry I think.” I shrugged off his interrogation. “Lunch Date Dot Com.” “Good grief.” Derek shook his head. “I’d rather stay single.” Lunch Date Dot Com was a dating website where you met for lunch on your lunch breaks. I didn’t even bother to read the guy’s profile before I accepted his lunch offer because I was starving and I needed a ride to come out here and see Derek. “So what about that car?” I wiggled my brows that were in desperate need of a wax. Given my current money status, I was going to have to settle for Trixie’s hot pink jeweled tweezers she picked up on her weekly run to the Dollar Store. “I don’t think so.” Derek resumed his position under the hood of the elevated car. “Besides, where is your company car from Porty Morty’s?” “I got fired,” I murmured. I adjusted the tight black Diane Von Furstenberg dress I had picked up from the local Salvation Army. Wrapping a piece of my shoulderlength honey-colored hair behind my ear, I batted my grey eyes and used fifteen hundred dollars cash to fan my face. “I’ve got fifteen hundred dollars.You can use it to fix that little concrete problem you have.” I pointed to the chipped-up material. “Laurel London, did you say fired?” Derek swiftly turned back around and waved a wrench in the air until he saw the cash.There was a little twinkle in his eye. I knew Derek like the back of my hand. He loved cash just as much as I did. I waved the dough under his nose. “That is why I need a new car.” When I heard a faint sniff as the cash passed his left 52

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nostril, I knew he was on the line. It was time for me to hook him and reel him in. “Trixie will skin my hide if I take that stolen cash.” “Stolen?” Okay. I was officially offended. “You think I stole this money? I want you to know,” I jerked my shoulders back and cocked my chin in the air. His eyes were on the cash. “This is guilt money from Morty. That no good sonofa…,” I muttered a few curse words under my breath. “See, why do you have to go around talking like that?” Derek asked. His face contorted. “That along with your…um…sticky fingers don’t make me want to do any sort of favors for you anymore.” “Sticky fingers? Geesh.” I threw my hands in the air. “When is this town ever going to get over that?” “Over it?” He laughed. “Over it?” “Yeah, heard you the first time.” I spoke softly and narrowed my eyes. “You have pick-pocketed every single person in the town, not to mention how you hacked into the Wilsons’ accounts after they took you in.” “Oh that. Phish!” I gestured. “That was seven years ago. I was fifteen years old. Besides, it wasn’t like you weren’t right there with me.” I tapped my temple and then brushed a strand of my hair behind my ear and again fanned myself with the money. Clearly the sticky, humid weather wasn’t doing me any favors. “I clearly remember you threading the fishing line on the Quantum Rod and Reel you had on your Christmas list. I played Santa, that’s all.” I shrugged, recalling all the crappy Christmas presents the orphanage gave all of us year after year and when I had decided to use the Wilsons’ credit card to buy all the orphans real Christmas presents. “It was your chance to get out of the big house and you blew it.” Derek shook his head. He put the wrench in his back pocket and crossed his arms in front of him. “Anyone would have given their arm to get out of there and have a real Christmas for once.” True, true. I didn’t have a leg to stand on with his argument. I admired Derek. He got out of the orphanage with a great job and was working on his dream to become a police officer. He was almost finished with night classes at the University of Louisville. “You didn’t tell me the truth about those Christmas presents or I would’ve never shown up to meet you.” Derek’s lip turned up in an Elvis kind of way exposing a small portion of his pearly white teeth and deepening

CONTEMPORARY CONTEMPORARY the dimple on his cheek. A distant twinkle flickered in his blue eyes. “You sure were believable when you told me they bought all the presents for the orphanage. Genius in fact.” He pointed his finger at me. “I credit you for me wanting to be a cop. Since I know how you work, I’m going to be able to figure out how criminal minds work.” “Ha, ha.” I slowly clapped my hands. “Very funny,” I sneered. “That was then.” I waved the money again. “Before I made myself an honest girl and got a big girl job.” “Getting fired from Porty Morty’s is a big girl job?” Derek chuckled. “How did you get fired from selling port-a-lets?” I wasn’t sure, but I detected a little hint of sarcasm in his tone. “Morty let me go. Something about overhead and people aren’t using port-a-potties anymore.” My mouth dipped down. “Where are the people pooping?” Derek’s nose curled up. “Got me.” I shrugged. “Anyway, I need a set of wheels. That old 1977 beat-up Caddy was Morty’s. He let me borrow it because my job was to get all of those outdoor venues to use Porty Morty’s at their events. He made me give it back. I need a new set of wheels to find a job before Trixie finds out. She is going to kill me when I tell her Morty let me go.” Kill might be a strong word to use.

Contact Tonya: http://tonyakappes.com/ https://www.facebook.com/ groups/208579765929709/

Author Bio Tonya Kappes

Contemporary Author

onya has written over 16 novels and 4 novellas, all of which have graced numerous bestseller lists including USA Today. Best known for SOUTHERN SMALL TOWN MYSTERIES charged with emotion and humor, and filled with flawed characters, her novels have garnered reader praise and glowing critical reviews. She lives with her husband, two very spoiled schnauzers and one exstray cats in northern Kentucky and grew up in Nicholasville. Now that her boys are teenagers, Tonya writes full time but can be found at all of her guys high school games with a pencil and paper in hand. Come on over and FAN Tonya on Goodreads.

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SHAYLA BLACK & LEXI BLAKE:

T HEIR V IRGIN S U CCESS

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ne of the fun things about writing is getting to put so much of yourself on the page. That’s even more interesting when it’s two people writing together—Shayla Black and Lexi Blake.We firmly believe that when we craft stories about things we love, that passion conveys to readers and makes the book more dynamic and alive. Naturally, we wouldn’t write romance if we didn’t love it, but we often go further, crafting heroes, heroines, and plotlines that reflect things uniquely us, alone and together. When we start a new Masters of Ménage book, we talk not only about characters and plot, but also about the elements we want to add into the books to give them our flavor. We get a kick out of adding quirky events, settings, and backstories and often write characters involved in activities that reflect our individual interests. For instance, we love our pets and deeply enjoy writing about four-legged friends. Shayla is a big cat person, so when you read about the crazy orange tabby in Their Virgin Captive, Mr. Snuggles, that’s a combination of two things: a bit of parody about Shayla’s very spoiled kitty, Meow, and a running joke we share about someday writing cozy mysteries with a cat sleuth called…you guessed it, Mr. Snuggles. We won’t really do it, but it’s a good laugh at times. Lexi, however, is a dog lover. Sir was a tongue-in-cheek way to poke fun at all those alpha males while also showing their softer sides. We’re both very much into fashion and design— shoes and bags for Lexi, interior design for Shayla. We’ve had several characters who are a little obsessed with shoes and love describing them. Sometimes Lexi finds designers and clothes in fashion magazines, and those pictures become inspirations for the characters. Lexi often uses her own pieces as inspiration. When Kinley hugged her Louis Vuitton in Their Virgin Hostage, she definitely got that directly from Lexi—and Law not understanding why she wanted a bag with someone else’s monogram on it came from Mr. Blake!

her knowledge of flooring, architecture, contractors and demonstrate that she’s watched just enough HGTV to be dangerous. She had a blast finding—and mentally redecorating—the perfect house to give our heroes and heroine in which to live out their happily ever after. And the ghost? Oh, yes. We might really like those ghost hunting shows on TV. When we talked about Annabelle’s grandmother leaving her a house in the French Quarter, it only made sense that she would hang around a bit to ensure her only grandchild is healthy and happy. The heroes of Their Virgin Secretary have a lot to deal with—a puppy who likes to chew on shoes, a house in the middle of a major renovation, and a killer stalking their woman, so it seemed natural to give them a meddlesome, lovable ghost. After watching numerous paranormal hunting shows, we believe we’re almost experts. What are we getting next to share and explore? Yep, a ghost hunting kit! What fun extras are we putting in the next Masters of Ménage adventure? We’re going to change scenery a bit and head to England with Their Virgin Mistress. We’ve both traveled extensively in England and love the country. A few years back we even rented a flat and lived in London for a few weeks, learning the city and how it works. So we’re going to write British heroes and an American heroine. We’re fairly certain she’ll have great shoes, a posh pad, and a crazy hobby or two. Find out what next April 14!

New York Times & USA Today Bestselling Author

TheirVirgin Secretary featured several of our favorite things.Annabelle is very fashion forward.The black-andwhite Pradas she wears were ones just bought by a friend of ours. Having Annabelle renovating a house in the French Quarter gave Shayla a chance to incorporate

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Their Virgin Secretary Masters of Ménage #6 Now Available at Amazon, iTunes, Kobo, Barnes & Noble, All Romance eBooks, and Smashwords! Three determined bosses… Tate Baxter, Eric Cohen, and Kellan Kent are partners for one of the most respected law practices in Chicago. But these three masters of the courtroom also share a partnership in the bedroom, fulfilling the darkest needs of their female submissives night after night. Everything was fine—until they hired Annabelle Wright as their administrative assistant. One beautiful secretary… Belle felt sure she’d hit the jackpot with her job, but in the last year, the three gorgeous attorneys have become far more than her bosses. They’re her friends, her protectors, and in Belle’s dreams, they’re her lovers, too. But she’s given her heart to them all, so how can she choose just one? An unforgettable night… When her bosses escort her to a wedding, drinks and dancing turn into foreplay and fantasy. Between heated kisses, Belle admits her innocence. Surprise becomes contention and tempers flare. Heartbroken and unwilling to drive them apart, Belle leaves the firm and flees to New Orleans. That leads to danger. Resolved to restore her late grandmother’s home, she hopes she can move on without the men.Then Kellan, Tate, and Eric show up at her doorstep, seeking another chance. But something sinister is at work in the Crescent City and its sights are set on her. Before the trio can claim Annabelle for good, they just might have to save her life.

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ne year, two months, and four days. Four hundred thirty days all totaled, but he hated to calculate their time together that way. It depressed him. Ten thousand three hundred twenty hours wasn’t much better, considering that was how long he’d gone without sex. Because that was how long it had been since he’d first laid eyes on Annabelle Wright. She’d walked into his office with her resume in hand, and he’d just stared, dumbstruck. He didn’t believe in love at first sight, but he’d found lust in that single glance. Oh, yeah. He’d taken one look at the goddess applying for a job and known exactly why he’d gone to the gym five times a week since he’d turned seventeen. But love? He’d taken a whole week of consideration before deciding that he had fallen in love with Belle. After all, he was a careful man. He liked to think things through. “Indulgence leads to chaos. Dominic is going to rue the day he let that sub run wild.” Kellan frowned at Kinley. Tate just swiveled his gaze toward the dance floor. “Who is that?” Kellan’s gaze shot straight to the dance floor and he scowled. Belle danced with some overgrown ape whose smile seemed way too friendly. She looked gorgeous in her emerald cocktail dress. Its V neck and body-fitting lines showed off her every curve. She wasn’t a tall woman, but those crazy-sexy black shoes she wore made her legs look deliciously long. Tate had no idea how women maintained their balance on those high, thin heels. He was pretty sure, however, they would look great wrapped around his neck. The only thing he didn’t like about the way Belle looked was the animated expression she turned up at the lug hanging on her. Then she laughed—a sound that always did strange things to his insides. Eric slapped a big hand across his back. “Chill, buddy. That’s Cole Lennox. He’s a PI here in Dallas.We’ve used his company before. He’s happily married. I don’t think he’s trying to mack on our girl.” Tate still didn’t like it. “Why isn’t he dancing with his own wife?” He was rational enough to know that jealousy was a completely illogical response in this situation. Technically, Belle wasn’t his. She’d never even gone on a real date with him. They’d had lunch exactly fifty-two times over the last year, but they’d mostly talked about work. He’d

taken her to happy hour fifteen times, where she always ordered vodka tonics, Cîroc or Grey Goose with a half a twist of lime. They’d still talked about work. And the weather. None of that counted, though, because she’d treated him like a colleague, not a boyfriend. He hadn’t kissed her or made his intentions clear, so he had no right to be jealous that Belle danced with another man. For once, he didn’t care if he made less-than-perfect sense. Kellan pointed to the other end of the floor. “He can’t. His brother is dancing with her. They’re twins and I’ve heard they share.” “Really?” Tate sat up and sent a challenging glance to Kell and Eric. “I’m seeing a pattern here. The Lennox twins married the same girl. Those three oil tycoons over there have one wife, and we all saw the trio of royal princes walk in with their bride. Hell, the whole board of Anthony Anders decided to marry the same woman. But it can’t work for us? Explain that.” That was the argument Tate had heard from Eric and especially Kellan for the past year, ever since the night they’d sat around the office and each admitted they were crazy about their new secretary. Administrative Assistant. Office Manager. Belle had changed her title more than once. She took exception to the term secretary, but Tate thought it was kind of hot. Kellan sighed, turning toward him. “Just because it works for other people doesn’t mean it would work for the two of you.” “The two of us? Really? You’re still going to play it that way?” Eric challenged. “Tell me you don’t want her, too.” Kellan’s eyes hooded. Tate had made an almost scientific study of his friends in an attempt to really understand them. Kellan had four major expressions that he used like masks. This particular one Tate had named “stubborn asshole.” Kellan used it a lot. “Of course I want her. I’ve never denied that. She’s a beautiful woman, not to mention lovely, kind, and very smart. If I was interested in getting married again, I would be all over her. But I’m not, and I doubt she’s the type of woman to have no-strings-attached sex.” “I want strings.” Tate needed to make that brutally clear because his partners seemed to constantly forget. They should take notes during their conversations the way he often did. But again, no one asked his opinion. “I want to be tangled up in all her strings. She’s the one.”

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Author Bio Shayla Black Erotic Author

Shayla Black (aka Shelley Bradley) is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of over 40 sizzling contemporary, erotic, paranormal, and historical romances produced via traditional, small press, independent, and audio publishing. She lives in Texas with her husband, munchkin, and one very spoiled cat. In her “free” time, she enjoys reality TV, reading and listening to an eclectic blend of music. Shayla’s books have been translated in about a dozen languages. RT Bookclub has nominated her for a Career Achievement award in erotic romance, twice nominated her for Best Erotic Romance of the year, as well as awarded her several Top Picks, and a KISS Hero Award. She has also received or been nominated for The Passionate Plume, The Holt Medallion, Colorado Romance Writers Award of Excellence, and the National Reader’s Choice Awards. A writing risk-taker, Shayla enjoys tackling writing challenges with every new book.

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Author Bio Lexi Blake

Erotic Author

Contact Lexi: www.LexiBlake.net https://www.facebook.com/ lexi.blake.39 https://twitter.com/ authorlexiblake

Lexi Blake lives in North Texas with her husband, three kids, and the laziest rescue dog in the world. She began writing at a young age, concentrating on plays and journalism. It wasnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t until she started writing romance that she found success. She likes to find humor in the strangest places. Lexi believes in happy endings no matter how odd the couple, threesome or foursome may seem. She also writes contemporary Western mĂŠnage as Sophie Oak.

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“

Do me a favor, okay?” Sabra couldn’t take anything else today. “Sure.” Holden scrubbed his hand through his hair then over the beard stubble she wanted to rub against like her cat when it smooshed its face against the corner of the couch in a compulsive display of scent-marking. “Don’t talk to me. I can’t argue right now. Not with you or anyone else. Shut up and drive. Fast.” Sabra knew she was weak where this guy was concerned. His disgust had prompted her to resign. Shameless, she licked her lips as she scanned him from head to toe. Unruly hair, a strong jaw and a mouth that was quick to curve into a crooked smile—complete with dimples—for the right person. Badass prep defined his style. A soft, worn hoodie covered a Henley. A navy and gray wide-striped scarf somehow only made him look sexier instead of dorky. Trim and fit, she bet he had more definition than it appeared beneath his clothes. Jeans tattered by work and genuine wear versus a fashion factory hugged his perfect ass and framed his package just right. If he lingered, she might make another request of him. One she would regret in the morning. Like so many other things that had happened in the past twenty-four hours. “Can do.” He didn’t ask for permission. Instead, he simply plucked her from the ground and swung her into his surprisingly strong arms. Within seconds, he’d used her fob to unlock her car, whisked her toward the vehicle that lit up in response, then deposited her gently on the passenger seat before rounding the hood to join her. “Lincoln and Town, above the pizza shop,” she instructed as if he were a cabbie instead of a hotrodder. Sabra leaned her head on the window and

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tried not to catch glimpses of his capable handling as he quickly rearranged the mirrors then pulled onto the dark street, heading toward her apartment. Why the hell did he have to choose now to reappear in her life? She ignored the stinging in her eyes and the part of her that would love to unload on him. To confess what she’d done. Try to make amends. Or use him to erase the pain ripping her apart. Truth was, she didn’t deserve him after what she’d done. It wouldn’t be fair to either of them to cross those lines, tangling pleasure and pain, reminding them both of what had happened. Because of her. When they pulled into the alley behind her apartment, she didn’t know whether to be relieved or sad at how quickly they’d gotten there. It took her three tries to find her door handle. He appeared outside, opening it for her and hauling her from the vehicle before she had her shit together. Pathetic. Why couldn’t she do anything right around this man? And why did she want to prove to him that she wasn’t as lame as he assumed she was? He wrapped an arm around her waist and practically carried her up the stairs. At the top, he used the only other key on her ring to unlock her apartment. When he attempted to usher her inside, she stumbled over the threshold, ending up plastered full-length against him. Heat flared through her core. Before she could think better of it, she’d coiled her arms around his neck. With that much contact, she had no hope of resisting the magnetism between them. Instead, she fused their mouths. He didn’t shove her away. Several heartbeats pounded through her as Holden returned the kiss with interest, making her toes curl. If

Erotic

Author Bio Jayne Rylon Erotic Author

the world hadn’t already been off kilter, he’d have tilted it on its axis. His taste, the suave seduction of his mouth on hers and his palms cupping her ass all combined to fire her up. He inched forward, then pivoted, trapping her against the door jamb. His hands pinned her wrists over her head, and his body held her still as he plundered her parted lips. Sabra let him take, allowed him to use her and guide them both through blazing pleasure. Her nipples dug into the firm heat of his chest. His hard cock nudged her belly as they strained toward each other. She gave herself into his care and he rewarded her trust with rapture. Until he yanked backward. She nearly fell on her ass without his support. “Damn you.” He banged his fist on the doorframe above her head, making her jump. “That isn’t what I came here for.” “S-sorry.” A flush stained her cheeks. How much mortification could one woman withstand in a day? Quitting before she could get fired for insubordination had sucked. Holden’s rejection was twice as bad. “Really. I screwed up. Everything.” Before he could reach out for her or bash her again—his disgust wounding her much more than fists ever could—she tucked inside and closed the door, locking him out of her home. And her life.

ayne Rylon is a New York Times and USA Today bestselling author. She received the 2011 Romantic Times Reviewers’ Choice Award for Best Indie Erotic Romance. Her stories used to begin as daydreams in seemingly endless business meetings, but now she is a full time author, who employs the skills she learned from her straight-laced corporate existence in the business of writing. She lives in Ohio with two cats and her husband, the infamous Mr. Rylon. When she can escape her purple office, she loves to travel the world, avoid speeding tickets in her beloved Sky, and–of course–read.

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Historical

Jessica Jefferson Interview with Jessica Jefferson Tell us a little about yourself? I write historical romance. I’ll read most anything, but love writing regency. I make my home in north-central Indiana. I used to live a lot closer to Chicago, and I’m still a little traumatized from the move (it’s only been ten years). I like to think that I live in “almost Chicago”, but in all reality I’m closer to Ohio than Illinois. I used to work two full time jobs – one in healthcare, the other as mother to two girls – ages 8 and 3. Now, I’m a full time writer and mother, with a dab of healthcare here and there. Can you give us some insight as to your personality? I’m very high energy. I need to be doing something all the time and it’s hard to sit still. I’ve been told there’s medication I can take for that, but I digress. I’m perky—always smiling and cracking jokes. People generally assume I’m a hugger, but I’m totally not. What are you reading right now? Three Weeks with Lady X by Eloisa James. As soon as her books are available for order, I’m all over it. I don’t think she’s written anything I didn’t like. I actually met her in an elevator at a convention recently and was completely star struck. I don’t even know what I said I was so flabbergasted, but I’m pretty certain it was not one of my finer moments. I also just finished Collette Cameron’s newest regency, The Earl’s Enticement. Collette’s one of those authors who just does a great job capturing the regency feel and has a really clean writing style that I envy. How do you prefer to do your writing? I prefer to write in long blocks, binge-writing, hidden away inside my office. But I’m a mom, so more often than not I’m scribbling notes on scrap paper during my girls’ gymnastics practice. Why do you write historical romance? Because I love to read historical romance. Historical romance combines two things that I enjoy immensely – history and HEA. I love the dynamic between a hero and a heroine, and I’m a sucker for a happy ending. Some call the genre predictable - I think of it as comforting. I like knowing that in a span of a few hundred pages I’m going to meet two individuals and be witness to their love story and subsequent happy ending. Tell us about your latest work? Taming Miss Tisdale is book two in the Regency Blooms series. It’s about Miss Tamsin Tisdale, a fiery hoyden who is sent away from London till she can, in a sense, be ‘tamed’. While in the country, she meets Mr. Marc Winston—a gentleman she believes to be genuine and nothing like the Society men she’s used to. Only, Marc isn’t the honest man she thinks he is. His secrets not only jeopardize his relationship with Tamsin, but his place in Society as well.

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Historical Historical

EXCERPT FROM TAMING MISS TISDALE:

arc watched the faint outline come across the dense morning fog, becoming more discernible as it approached. The tall, thin figure was riding along at a perilous speed, given the morning’s lack of visibility. He thought perhaps it was some gangly young man misguided in the fog. It wouldn’t be the first time someone accidentally stumbled upon the vast property that made up his family’s immodest estate. Then the fog parted in an almost biblical manner, revealing his gross inaccuracy. Were those . . . breasts? Marc closed his eyes and thought for a moment. Typically, women didn’t ride alone at such an hour and they certainly didn’t wander unexpectedly across his property. It’d been quite a while, his last birthday to be exact, since his last intimate encounter with a woman—a gift, compliments of St. Regis—so there was always the possibility that perhaps his half-drunk, sexstarved mind had conjured up the sensual image. He shook his head, opened his eyes, and looked back again toward the horizon. Yes, those were most certainly breasts. And she was most definitely not a young man.The woman’s riding habit pulled taut against her body as she raced toward him. Her hair was blowing behind her—various hues of auburn and gold, like wild flames curling about in the wind. Then a decidedly feminine voice burst through the morning’s silence, interrupting his self-doubt. “Oh, thank goodness I found you!” This was no mirage. She was indeed very real. And very loud. Marc watched, dumbfounded, as the girl—no, woman—slowed her approach. “Pardon?” he called

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Historical back, certain he couldn’t possibly have heard her correctly. “I’m so happy I’ve found you,” she repeated, nearly breathless. “Well, not you specifically, anyone really. I’ve been riding in circles for close to an hour now, and I’d just about given up all hope of finding someone when I spotted you. My cousin warned me about the altitude of these hills and how I mustn’t underestimate the density of this blasted fog. Of course, I didn’t listen and got myself thoroughly turned about. You see, I’m forever regretting not listening.” She rode closer still and he could see her quite plainly now. She was tall and lanky, her riding habit revealing a rather trim frame. His focus quickly shifted from her slender build to her smile. It resembled nothing of the demure, timid smiles he’d become accustomed to seeing within his social circles. This smile was wide, revealing a number of straight ivory teeth, and seemed to extend to every facet of her face. Even her eyes, large and dark, appeared to be smiling.

No, blue. They were an impossibly dark shade of blue. Then she gave her head a little shake, throwing a mass of unruly ginger curls over her shoulders, captivating him entirely. He was fascinated, but not by anything she did. Rather, it was what she didn’t do. She didn’t fuss at or apologize for her disheveled appearance. She sat atop her mount, brazen in all her wild, chaotic glory.

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Were they brown?

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Author Bio Jessica Jefferson Historical Author

WE HAVE WHAT YOU NEED TO SUCCEED. Annual Writer & Fan Convention Custom & Pre-Made Book Covers RomCon Stock Photos Readersâ&#x20AC;&#x2122; Crown Contest 120,000 Visitors/Month New eMagazine! RomCon Reader New! Reader Rated Bookstore

essica Jefferson makes her home in northern Indiana, or as she likes to think of itâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;almost Chicago. She is heavily inspired by classic sweeping, historical romance novels, but aims to take those key emotional elements and inject a fresh blend of quick dialogue and comedy. She invites you to visit her at jessicajefferson.com and read more of her random romance musings. Compromising Miss Tisdale and Taming Miss Tisdale from Soul Mate Publishing, available now on Amazon!

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EXCERPT:

athering the weight of the curtains, Alex stood just behind and below Fiona. Exactly where he had the best chance to inhale that curiously erotic scent of cinnamon, and enjoy the unmarred slope of her derrière. Just close enough for his body to go instantly on alert, as it always seemed to do around her. “Let. Go,” he finally heard, and looked up. She was glaring down at him and tugging on the material. He grinned. Her eyes went unnaturally dark, the pupils dilated, her breathing shallow. Ah, so he wasn’t the only one who felt the surprising attraction. With tortuously slow movements, he eased out the material, running his hand up so that it accidentally brushed against hers. He heard a sharp intake of breath and almost broadened his smile. He knew it was cruel, but he couldn’t help it. Suddenly he wanted to know that the attraction he felt was truly shared. That she was as unsettled as he. As aroused. He eased out a bit more, this time accidentally brushing against her hip. It truly was an accident. It didn’t stop his body from clenching even tighter, or her from jumping back. He caught her again just as she was about to fall off the ladder. “You might want me to hang these,” he offered, an arm around her hips. “Might be less dangerous.” “Oh, I doubt it,” she managed in a breathy voice, not moving from his grip. “After all, if I get you in a position to be precariously balanced with your hands full, I might just be tempted to shove you all the way through the window.” He grinned. “You never would. Windows are expensive.” She tilted her head a bit, and her hair gleamed copper. “Hmmm.” “Trying to think of a way to give in gracefully?” “Trying to figure how long it would take to afford a new window.” He laughed out loud. “Minx. Come, it would be easier for me to reach. I am taller than you.” Putting his foot on the first rung, he lifted himself closer. “And to

be fair, not that many people are.” “I only stand five foot ten,” she protested. He grinned. “And the average English male stands about five foot nine. In his boots. With a hat on.” She scowled, but he saw the humor glint again in her magnificent blue eyes. “Believe me, Lord Whitmore. I am well aware of the fact.” Grinning, he put his foot on the second rung, just beneath her. And then he made the mistake of looking into her eyes. Her blue, blue eyes that were suddenly black with arousal. He heard the sharp intake of her breath and saw the erratic pulse beating at the base of her long white throat. His own body reacted just as it had every time he’d gotten close to her. He focused in on her, his grip on her tightening. Still she didn’t move, caught in the circle of his free arm, her hip pressed against his chest, her mouth just above his. All he had to do was climb another rung, and he could satisfy a four-year-old craving. His heart was galloping suddenly, and he could feel a bead of sweat roll down his back. He could see a glow on her forehead, her upper lip. Her eyes widened, as if she could read his thoughts, and he could scent something new. Arousal. Need. Hunger. His own body was shaking with it. He swore his cock had taken on a life of its own, and his brain simply shut down. He leaned a bit closer, his foot still on the step beneath her and paused, giving her a chance to escape, to clout him on the head if necessary. She didn’t. She watched him the way prey might a raptor, unsure and wary. He didn’t blame her. He wasn’t certain how much control he had over himself. Slowly, so he didn’t startle her into tipping the ladder, he rose up and set his other foot on the rung. She was frozen in place, one hand fisted around the blooddeep velvet, the other clenched against the ladder, as if she was still uncertain whether to use it. She didn’t. She inhaled, her mouth opening just a bit, as if there wasn’t enough air. As if she were struggling to stay afloat. Sink, Alex wanted to say as he lifted himself face-toface with her, mouth-to-mouth. Sink into me.

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