Monday, July 6, 2015

Monday Author/Book Spotlight - Rosanna Leo`s Predator's Trinity



I'm so happy to have the lovely Rosanna Leo visiting today! Check out the latest in her shifter romances, Predator's Trinity, which releases August 24th!



SAYING GOOD–BYE TO A SERIES AT THE RIGHT TIME

Thanks so much to Vicki for hosting me today. I’m getting ready to launch my new paranormal romance Predator’s Trinity, Gemini Island Shifters 6. It releases at Liquid Silver Books on August 24. I must admit, it was a book I didn’t necessarily see coming.

When I began the Gemini Island Shifters series a few years ago, I envisioned completing the series with about three books. And yet here I am, getting ready to share the latest on book 6. And I can now tell you with certainty, there will be two more books after this one. I already have them charted out in my head and I know where those romances will head.

How does an author know when to end a series? It’s not always an easy choice to make. However, I’ve known from the beginning I didn’t want to draw it out to a point where readers would object. There’s nothing worse than hearing fans say they feel the series should have ended ages ago. Everything has a natural life. To prolong it needlessly is wasteful and sometimes laughable.

For a time, I honestly believed book 5, Predator’s Fire, might have been the end for me. But then a villainous wolf shifter by the name of August Crane popped onto the scene, making things difficult for my brave-hearted gang of shifters from the Ursa Resort.  The entrance of this villain provided a whole new arc and a level of darkness the series had never seen before.

Because of him, I had conflicts to resolve. Will they all be resolved with Predator’s Trinity? In a manner of speaking, but smaller, heartfelt conflicts will arise. These new troubles will form the basis of books 7 and 8.

At that point, I know I will have given my readers an exciting ride and that it will be time for the rollercoaster to pull back into the station. And when my fans disembark, I hope the one thought careening through their minds will be, “Let’s do it again!”

If you haven’t read the Gemini Island Shifters series, you can find it at Amazon, B&N, Kobo, ARE and at www.lsbooks.com.

Predator’s Trinity will be available August 24 at Liquid Silver Books, followed by these other sites. Add it to your Goodreads TBR list at: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/25670112-predator-s-trinity







Blurb:

Librarian Suzan Marsh is an empath and has always felt assaulted by the feelings of others. She has had to distance herself from the people in her life, raising a mental barrier to ward off unwanted emotions. When wolf shifter August Crane abducts her, he breaks through the walls she constructed, forcing her to accept a frightening new truth.
Jaguar shifter twins Percy and Byron Moon are familiar with the evil ways of August Crane. Because of him, their childhood was destroyed. Because of him, their way of life at the peaceful Ursa Fishing Lodge and Resort is threatened. And they won’t rest until he is dead.
When Crane drags Suzan into his cult and decides to make her his “concubine,” Percy and Byron know they must save the human woman. Their connection to her is strong and they cannot deny the dream they always held close. That they could share a woman and make her their mate.
But even after rescuing Suzan, none of them are free from Crane’s clutches. The wolf shifter has plans, ones that involve the demise of every shape shifter at the Ursa Resort. Not only must Percy and Byron keep Suzan safe, they must convince her to accept them both. In order to stop Crane from hurting everyone they love, they must learn to fight together.

Excerpt:

After her shower, she toweled off and dressed in the clothes provided, choosing a pretty green V-neck T-shirt to accompany the jeans. Everything fit perfectly, from underwear to outerwear, as if the Moons had already known her. It boggled her mind, but she couldn’t lose the sensation they were connected by more than just circumstance. Her instincts never lied. After slipping into a pair of soft white socks, she made her way toward the kitchen.
She heard Byron and Percy before she saw them and stopped to catch an excited breath. When she heard what they said, she paused a moment longer.
“How’s your jaguar holding up?” Byron asked his brother.
She knew it was Byron. Despite them being identical twins, there were slight differences in their voices. Byron’s was the smoother voice. Percy’s had the odd touch of sexy gravel.
“My dumb cat,” replied Percy on a near growl, “was up all night long. He keeps pawing at me, trying to get to her.”
Her? As the burn of jealousy sizzled in Suzan’s gut, she gnawed on her bottom lip in a futile attempt to quell it. Maybe Percy had a girlfriend and he was dying to see her. Maybe he couldn’t wait to escape the cabin so he could meet up with this woman and, well, let his jaguar loose.
“Yeah,” Byron said. “My cat’s in agony, too. I think my ribs are black and blue inside, it pounds them so much.”
Oh, great. She wasn’t sure why this information astounded her. Of course men like them would have girlfriends. Hell, they might have mates. She hadn’t bothered to ask, had she? She’d already heard the mate bond was a powerful thing, that it would drive any shifter to distraction, both sexually and emotionally. Why had she been naïve enough to think these men might be single? She knew enough to know the good ones were always taken.
She’d been so stupid to think they had a bond. Bullshit. Clearly, her empathic tendencies had let her down for the first time.
“I can’t believe how quickly my jag … recognized Suzi,” said Percy.
Oh. Last she heard, she was the only Suzi around here.
Byron grunted. “I feel the same way. I’ve never felt like this. My head’s not working properly. Fuck, I couldn’t even hold a bowl of eggs without losing it. Percy, we need to discuss things. Seriously.”
“I know.”
“If Suzi is the one we’re meant to share, we can’t afford to make any wrong moves, especially with Crane in the picture. We need to support her and not let our egos get in the way.”
“Agreed.”
If Suzi is the one we’re meant to share…
Holy hell.

Predator’s Trinity will be available August 24 at www.lsbooks.com. Look for it soon at Amazon, B&N, Kobo and ARE.



Author bio:
Rosanna Leo is a multi-published, erotic romance author. Several of her books about Greek gods, selkies and shape shifters have been named Top Picks at Night Owl Romance and The Romance Reviews.
From Toronto, Canada, Rosanna occupies a house in the suburbs with her long-suffering husband, their two hungry sons and a tabby cat named Sweetie. When not writing, she can be found haunting dusty library stacks or planning her next star-crossed love affair.
A library employee by day, she is honored to be a member of the league of naughty librarians who also happen to write romance. Rosanna blogs at www.rosannaleoauthor.wordpress.com

Author Links:


Sunday, July 5, 2015

Sunday Ramblings- July Blog Letter



I thought I would do something new starting today. Since I don`t do a newsletter (when the heck would I have time?!) I thought I would start a monthly blog letter. This way my friends, fans, followers and family can catch up on what's what! So, with that in mind, let`s jump into things! 

Where the heck did June go? I swear I just blinked and an entire month passed by. I hope the summer is treating you well and that you're taking time to kick back and enjoy yourself. My hubby, daughter and I are heading to Niagara Falls at the end of the month for a day trip. We're all really looking forward to it as we don`t get much vacation time. Having farm animals that require daily upkeep means we can't go for extended trips. Which is okay since we do love our critters . . . although it sure would be nice to head to Greece for a week. *sighs dreamily* Are you heading anywhere this summer?



On the writing side it`s been wonderfully productive and exciting over the past few weeks. Long Change released on June 26. If you haven`t grabbed a copy I'll include buy links at the end of this post. I'm busily working away on An Erie Garden Party, the third Lake Erie shifter novella. It`s going really well. I love being able to slip into the mystical world of skunk shifters from time to time! I'm not sure what I'll start after I get Templeton`s next book done. Perhaps another Venom novel? Or another M/M romance. I had the best idea for one earlier today . . .

The cover reveal for Clean Sweep is scheduled for July 11th. I'm so excited to show you the amazing cover art for Jane and Tore's book! I hope you love it as much as I do. The first Venom book is slated to release on August 17th and I have some fun posts and excerpts planned to help lead up to the big day, so drop back often!



I'm thrilled to be able to pass along the news that I recently signed two contracts. One with Ellora`s Cave for the next novella for everyone`s favorite hockey playing jerk, Victor Kalinksi! Two Man Advantage 2 - Game Misconduct will pick up shortly after the first book finished. Fans of Dan and Vic will want to make sure they grab this second book as things are about to go all sorts of crazy for our two Cayuga Cougars!

The second contract was for a gay May-December romance that Torquere Press picked up. It`s called Life is a Stevie Wonder Song and it was one of those muse inspired stories that fly from your fingers. I think it took me two weeks to complete much like Two Man Advantage 2, which I completed in three weeks! When the muse is on a roll I try my best not to slow her down. I fear I would get steamrolled if I tried.




And we have no hockey. *heavy sigh filled with sadness* I've turned on a few baseball games but they just seem to be lacking something . . . like ice, skates, a puck, and body checks. NHL training camps cannot open soon enough for me. On the upside, my bestest buddy Michele and I have two games slated to attend in the fall. One in September to see the Pens play a preseason match-up in Johnstown, PA against Tampa Bay. And a run to New York to catch the Rangers play on the Saturday after Thanksgiving. COME ON ALREADY FALL! Sorry. That just slipped out.

Guess that`s all I have to pass along in this month`s blog letter. Please feel free to ask about any books you may have questions about, whether its release dates or just if a special-to-you series is in line to be written. I'm always happy to chat with folks about my books, chickens, hockey, or any other thing that tickles our fancies. Don`t be shy. I adore talking with my friends. Just ask my husband, he'll tell you about how I love to talk. ;)

Skate hard and love deeply,

V.L.





Collegiate superstar goalie Boone Crockett seems to have the world at his feet. He’s rich, handsome, attends an elite college and is a hot prospect for the pros. Pity all that is a front for a deeply closeted and troubled young man.

All Boone’s life plans are shattered when flamboyant ex-figure skater Preston Gordon, an orange-haired twink, shows up to audition for the team’s mascot position wearing sequins, scarves and toe picks. His moves on the ice send Boone into his own pirouette of frustrated and reluctant desire.
As senior year progresses Boone slides deeper and deeper into a dangerous depression, Preston’s sensual strength the only thing he has to hold on to. If Boone can’t keep from plunging through the thin ice he’s skating on, it could take a twink to make the big save.

Reader Advisory: This story has graphic sexual language and scenes—no closed bedroom doors (or other rooms) here!
A Romantica® gay erotic romance from Ellora’s Cave



Buy Links:





Saturday, July 4, 2015

Friday, July 3, 2015

Friday Author/Book Spotlight- Kathleen Ball`s Cinders' Bride



I'm thrilled to have fellow SCP and Tuesday Tales author Kathleen Ball here on a special Friday edition of my Author/Book Spotlight. Her newest historical western, Cinders' Bride, just released this week!



Blurb- Shannon McMurphy travels to Asherville, Texas as a mail order bride expecting to marry a rancher. Instead, her intended is a saloonkeeper. Her refusal to marry enrages John Hardy and he slices her cheek with a knife so no other man would want her. She runs into the street and no one helps her until Cinders comes along.


Sexy, Rancher Cinders saves Shannon and offers her a job. To protect her reputation he marries her. They both agree it’s a marriage of convenience. He admires her spunk and willingness to learn everything about surviving the Texas frontier. He waits for her to ask to go home but she never does.

They learn a lot about each other through, stolen horses, Indian troubles, a cattle drive and the busybodies of the town. Their attraction for each other grows, but can they learn to trust enough to love?

Excerpt—
Shannon McMurphy jolted awake as the stagecoach came to an abrupt stop.
“Asherville, Texas folks!” The driver yelled.
“This is it, Asherville, Texas,” the brown-toothed man sitting across from her announced. He spit once again on the stagecoach floor and leered at her. “Are ya sure ya want to get hitched to Ole John Hardy? I can be your husband if ya like.” He leaned toward her and she quickly turned her head from the fetid smell of his rotting teeth. She wished he wouldn’t speak.
Shannon shuddered, trying not to glance at him. He’d made her uncomfortable with his stare the whole last leg of her trip. Until then there had been other passengers and he behaved himself, but now she never wanted to be in his company again. Opening the shade, she looked out the coach window. The bright sun made her eyes squint from the glare.
It didn’t look to be much of a town but beggars couldn’t be choosers, and in this situation, she was definitely the beggar.
The driver opened the door, and Shannon expected to get off first, but the nasty passenger pushed past her and left. Maybe this is what manners are in the West.
The driver extended his hand. She took it and carefully stepped out of the stagecoach. Taking a deep breath, she released his hand and glanced around. Where was Mr. Hardy? He promised to meet the stage, but she saw no one else on the wooden walkway. He was probably delayed at his ranch. Being a successful rancher must be hard work.
The driver put her bag down next to her and she smiled her thanks. “You wouldn’t know—”
“I usually drive straight through Asherville. I have a schedule to keep and can’t stand around jawing. Never had time to meet the folks.” He stroked his black mustache and shrugged. “Someone will be by to pick you up. A man would have to be crazy to leave a pretty gal like you standing out here alone and unescorted.” He climbed back on the coach, grabbed the reins and yelled. “Haw!”
Not one to stand around waiting for something to happen, she grabbed her bag and strode down the boardwalk. There wasn’t much in the town to recommend itself. The biggest building was the saloon followed by the mercantile. On the other side of the street, she saw, a place called Eats and next to it was a barbershop. Somehow, through Mr. Hardy’s letters, she anticipated booming town, not a sparsely populated wide spot in the road. There was a sign on the bank, which said, closed, and someone had nailed a plank of wood across the door to the Sheriff's office.
She plodded to the mercantile hoping they’d know where her intended could be. If nothing else, the store would get her out of the blazing sun. She stopped before entering and slid her hands down her skirt trying in vain to remove some of the dirt and wrinkles. All she'd created was a big puff of dust around her. What she wouldn’t give for a bath, but it would have to wait.  Maybe she could ask for a cup of water to wash away some of the grit in her mouth.
The bell dangling above the door rang as she entered the mercantile, and immediately everyone stopped and stared at her. She always believed that first impressions mattered greatly but there was no help for it now.  Plain and simple, she was covered in dirt. Smiling, she nodded in greeting to the customers.
A tall, well-dressed woman in her thirties, patted her dark hair in place. She stepped from behind the counter and headed right for Shannon, putting forth a big, gracious smile. “Welcome. You must be new around here. I’m Edith Mathers, and I'm the proprietor of this fine establishment. Are you and your husband settling in our town?”
“It’s so nice to make you’re acquaintance. Actually, I’m here to marry John Hardy. Perhaps you could tell me where I might locate him?”
A hush fell over the entire store. As she glanced around, she noted many patrons staring at her with their mouths dropped open.
“Do you think he got tied up at his ranch? If it isn’t far perhaps I could rent a driver and a buggy to get out there?” A few of the customers whispered to each other. Her heart thumped painfully against her ribs as a shiver went up her spine. “Is something wrong?”
Edith took her bag from Shannon and led her to a fine upholstered chair near the window. Edith gestured for her to sit down. “Oh dear, how should I say this?”
Shannon sat in the chair and her shoulder slouched. “Is he dead?”
Patting Shannon’s hand Edith shook her head. “No, honey, John doesn’t own a ranch. Oh my, what did you say your name was?”
Her stomach knotted and she felt the blood drain from her face. He didn’t own a ranch? He deceived her. “Mrs. Mathers my name is Shannon. What do you mean? Do you know where he is? I’d like to talk to him.”
“He’s at the saloon. He owns it.”
Shannon jumped up. “Is it all right if I leave my bag with you? It appears I have something to straighten out.”
Edith nodded. “Of course.”
Seeing something akin to pity as she passed by the other customers, she lifted her chin and straightened her back as she marched down the walk to the saloon. The scarred, wooden, swinging doors intimidated her. They were imposing as she stood gazing at them trying to gather her courage. A saloon? There had to be a mistake.
The clinking glasses and roars of laughter stopped the moment she stepped through the doors. She didn’t care if they gawked at her, she had to locate Mr. Hardy and get an explanation.
“It’s not often we get a pretty little thing like you entering my place.”
Her heart dropped when she set eyes on the speaker. She studied the rotund man with dirty, greasy, dark hair and the look of the devil in his eyes.
“Are you John Hardy? The John Hardy who proposed marriage to me?” She held her breath wishing for him to say no.
“You must be my Shannon.” He smiled showing the lack of bottom teeth. He stepped in front of her and peered her up and down, his gaze lingering on her breasts. Putting his arm around her waist, he turned so they were both facing the rag tag bunch in the saloon. “What do you think fellas? A new one to add to my little doves?”
The crowd cheered as she tried to loosen his bruising grip. “Now look here, you disgusting liar! You misrepresented yourself. I’m not marrying you or becoming one of your little doves. I’m sure I can find another groom much better than you.” She wrenched free from him.
“Better than me?” he snorted, his voice full of anger.
“Not better than you, I meant someone more suited to me is all.” Glancing out of the corner of her eye, she could tell he wasn’t buying it.
“Are you refusing to marry me?” His body tensed and his eyes narrowed as he grabbed her arm again.
Without thinking, she nodded. The back of his hand flew at her face and sent her crashing into the wall. She stumbled and lunged for the door, but John grabbed her by the hair and led her to the bar. With his elbow, he pinned her head to the countertop as he yanked her hair, forcing her to face him. Quickly she lunged for the door, but John grabbed her by her hair and led her to the bar pinning the side of her face to the top.
Fear paralyzed her and she couldn't move or breathe as John slid the knife blade across her face. The throbbing pain made her scream as he threw her out the doors and onto the dirty street.
John followed and laughed as she wiped the blood from her split lips. “No one will want you now. You might as well get inside before everyone sees how hideous you are.”
Reaching up she touched her throbbing painful cheek and felt the blood before she brought her hand in front of her to confirm it. He’d slashed her face with the knife. The pain almost blinded her as spots crowded her eyes, but she held on. “I’d rather be dead than be with you.” Her voice trembled as she tried to put on a brave front.
John growled and stepped closer. “I can arrange that for you.” His dark eyes flashed at her and she saw such darkness in his eyes that she truly believed him capable of killing.
The world seemed eerily quiet as she pushed herself up from the hard packed dirt, only to fall back down. Her ankle hurt. Tears filled her eyes, as she glanced around. There stood the women from the mercantile, staring, and their eyes full of terror. She’d get no assistance from them.
John Hardy strutted into the street and laughed while he gestured for two of his men to pick her up. “Come on, honey, it’s time for our honeymoon.”
She heard the clomping of hooves and the turn of wagon wheels behind her but the wagon didn’t stop to help her either. By this time, a crowd had gathered and now there were men standing with the group of women. She tried to plead for help with her eyes but they glanced away.
Two men grabbed at her to haul her back into the saloon when a loud cocking of a gun erupted from behind.
“Put her down.” A man's voice threatened.
John stepped forward, thrusting out his chest. “Listen, Cinders, this is none of your business. It’d be in your best interest to leave things be.”
The world began to dim and spin, the smell of blood was the last straw. She fainted.



Other news—Finalist in the 2015 RONE Award for Spring’s Delight
Bio-
Sexy Cowboys and the women who love them...
Finalist in the 2015 RONE Awards
Finalist in the 2012 RONE Awards.

Top Pick, Five Star Series from the Romance Review.



Kathleen Ball writes contemporary and historical western romance with great emotion and memorable
characters.
Her books are award winners and have appeared on best sellers lists including

Amazon's Best Sellers List, All Romance Ebooks, Bookstrand, Desert Breeze Publishing and

Secret Cravings Publishing Best Sellers list. She is the recipient of eight Editor's Choice

Awards, and The Readers' Choice Award for Ryelee's Cowboy.

There's something about a cowboy..


   

Thursday, July 2, 2015

Celebrate Freedom Blog Hop & Gift Card Giveaway





Hello and welcome to my blog! I hope that you enjoy visiting and that you will drop by all the wonderful authors who are taking part in this great hop!  I have to confess that I had a wonderfully moving post written about marriage equality for this hop. Trust me, it was a good one! In the post I asked people to recall this very simple message:




Imagine how thrilled I was on 6/26 when SCOTUS ruled that same sex marriages are now legal in all fifty states! I have been a vocal supporter of marriage equality for years! Boy did I celebrate on June 26th with all my LGBT friends! Generally it would make me mad to have to rewrite a blog post. Not this time. This time I am ecstatic about the fact that I had to edit this post. So yes, let`s celebrate freedom. The freedom of every American to legally wed the person they love, regardless of gender. Wave the rainbow flag proudly, my friends! #LoveWins 







Collegiate superstar goalie Boone Crockett seems to have the world at his feet. He’s rich, handsome, attends an elite college and is a hot prospect for the pros. Pity all that is a front for a deeply closeted and troubled young man.

All Boone’s life plans are shattered when flamboyant ex-figure skater Preston Gordon, an orange-haired twink, shows up to audition for the team’s mascot position wearing sequins, scarves and toe picks. His moves on the ice send Boone into his own pirouette of frustrated and reluctant desire.
As senior year progresses Boone slides deeper and deeper into a dangerous depression, Preston’s sensual strength the only thing he has to hold on to. If Boone can’t keep from plunging through the thin ice he’s skating on, it could take a twink to make the big save.

Reader Advisory: This story has graphic sexual language and scenes—no closed bedroom doors (or other rooms) here!
A Romantica® gay erotic romance from Ellora’s Cave



Buy Links:



*~*~*

For a chance to win a $5 Amazon gift card, simply tell me what your favorite freedom is. That`s it. No liking pages, making tweets, or leaping through flaming hoops. Leave me a comment about the freedom that you enjoy the most and your contact info. I will randomly pick one winner on July 6 from the comments below. If you do not leave your email address I will have to pass over your entry. I simply do not have time to track people down on the internet. So make sure you comment and include your email address! 

Please take a moment to drop by the other wonderful blogs that are participating--







Monday, June 29, 2015

Tuesday Tales - Stiff



Hello! It`s time for Tuesday Tales.



Today we have another chapter for Wind in White Birch and our word prompt is "Stiff".

This week's episode has explicit content of a sexual nature. If that offends now would be the time to move to one of the other TT blogs.



Don`t forget to visit the other talented Tuesday Tales authors. Thanks for stopping by!




            Somehow, we managed not to break our necks running up the wide curved stairwell. I wanted to stop and drink in the ambiance of Jonah`s other woman, but his insistent gentle tugs on my hand persuaded me to put lodge admiration on the back burner. His room was located at the very top of the steps. I slowed considerably when we entered his sleeping quarters.  There were small oils hanging on the rich buttery log walls and a fireplace banked low for the night, this one with a screen that had a meandering bear artfully made into the grillwork. It was his bed though that grabbed my attention, aside from the obvious reason.
            The frame for the queen-sized mattress was cedar logs about as thick as my leg that formed a canopy around the bed. The coverlet was bluish-green and thickly ticked. There were no drapes or swags dangling from the logs over the bedding. A short table rested at the end of the bed where some people would have a hope chest. This table held volumes of books on its shelves. Two nightstands flanked the bed and held lamps that appeared to be made from flat tribal drums. A pair of snowshoes hung above the logs that made up the headboard. To the left of the masculine sleeping spot was a tall coat rack from which dangled some of Jonah`s outerwear.
Two oak dressers sat under artwork with a woodland scheme. The windows had long drapes that puddled on the floor, done in a dark green and cobalt pattern to match the duvet. I stood on a huge round area rug that was hunter green with flecks of gold and rust. The room was masculine, rustic, and vastly appealing because of its manly vibe.
            “Will it do?” he asked, still clasping my hand. I nodded dreamily. “You can still say no,” Jonah said, tipping his head to the left. I shook my head. “You didn`t lose the power of speech did you?” the man inquired. Again, I shook my head.
“No, I was just stunned at how beautiful this room – this lodge is,” I told him. He squeezed my hand.
“You`ve only seen this room and the living room,” he pointed out, reaching around me to push the door closed. The latch clicking caused my skin to prickle in anticipation.
“You want to give me the grand tour?”  
“Later,” he said, pulling me into his chest. He lifted my hair from my neck and placed his lips under my ear. “You don`t want to sight-see now, do you?”
I wiggled in his firm embrace, rubbing myself against him. “Not really,” I groaned when his teeth nibbled a path to my collarbone.
            “Good.” His words vibrated into my ear. I arched against him. He left my ear to claim my mouth. The kiss was hot and wet: a vibrant and erotic display of how he planned to love me. Slowly at first, with gentle caresses, then faster and rougher, hands gripping and fingers clawing. Our clothes were shed quickly, without care for buttons or snaps. Jonah slid his hands down my bare ribs as he suckled my neck like a vampire fresh from the coffin. His leg slid between mine. I asked him to hurry. The man spun us around smoothly, his hands now lifting me upward. I wrapped myself around him like a wanton vine embraces a lamppost. The goose-down mattress enveloped us when we fell into it. The air left my lungs in a rush when he landed on me.
            “Sorry,” he muttered into my mouth, kissing his way across my jaw then downward, stopping to taste the hollow of my neck.
            “Don`t be.” I held him close, intoxicated by the weight of him pressing me downward. His hair streamed over my face and shoulders as he made his way to my breasts. His tongue found a nipple. My back bowed as my fingers dug into his wide shoulders. He toyed and teased, flicking and nuzzling until I was begging. His mouth was warm and wet. I writhed wildly under him, arching my back to give him more, rubbing my foot up the back of his thick thigh, running my palms over his back, arms, sides, and tight ass. The feel of hard muscle flexing and contracting under his skin as he moved made me mad with want.
            Jonah released one peak then rose up to taste my mouth before moving onto the other breast. He slid to the side. I groaned at the loss of his body flattened against mine. Then his hand danced down my ribs and over my pelvic bone. I stopped bemoaning the heat of his chest when his fingers slid through sodden gold curls. My knees fell apart. Jonah made a sound like a Kodiak bear. His name bounced around the bedroom in a woman`s heated exhalation that I realized only after a second had passed was mine. His fingers were already slick as they slid into me; one, two, then three. His thumb stroked my clitoris one single time. That was all it took. I blew apart like a dandelion blow in a hot summer wind.
             I could feel his eyes on me as he brought me into a convulsing frenzy with just his fingers. The orgasm ran on and on, each rotation of his fingers deep inside me combined with the sweep of his calloused thumb began another tsunami of breathless pleas for more while I threw sheets and pillows around like a crazed woman.
            “You looked just as beautiful as I knew you would,” he purred like the puma whose claws dangled from his corded neck. I made some sort of sound that slid off into nothingness when he left me for a moment.
            “Jonah . . . God . . .”
            “Yeah, I know,” he told me, quickly tearing open then rolling the condom over himself. I welcomed him back enthusiastically, locking my arms and legs around him. He slid into me slowly, his brow resting on mine as my body stretched to accommodate his stiff length. Our soft sighs intertwined. I wanted to say something profound as I`m known to at times.
            “Jonah?” I gasped as he began moving within me.
“Hmm?” His dark eyes found mine.
“I got nothing,” I moaned. He chuckled then pulled out until I feared he would leave me then he thrust deeply, all the while staring at me with burning eyes. I threw my head back and gave up on talking.
“Look at me,” he ground out a few moments later. I couldn`t think or speak. He was moving so quickly and so forcefully now my hands were over my head to protect my skull from the log headboard. My eyes flickered open. “I want to see you leave your body.”
He didn`t have to wait long to see me fly away. The next orgasm blew me to tiny bits like a mirror hit with a mallet. I heard myself panting his name. Jonah buried himself in me, letting my internal convulsions pull him over the top. I watched him in fascination. Teeth bared, neck corded, shoulder muscles and biceps twitching and flowing as he tried to get as deep as he could. He was breathtakingly beautiful and ruggedly masculine in his release. When the worst of the tempest was past, I reached up to push damp hair from his cheeks. He smiled awkwardly, balanced above me as he was.
“I love you,” I whispered, cupping his sweaty cheek with my palm. He lowered his mouth to mine, kissing me with such passion I feared I might weep.
“That is music to my ears,” he whispered breathlessly over my lips. “Gano: da.” He kissed me once more, rolled to the side and pulled me with him, the blankets barely covering our flushed skin. “Night song,” he huskily explained the Seneca term before I even asked. “I want you to sing about your love for me every time we share a bed.”
I was fully prepared to sing those lines to him every night from here on out. For now though, I was content to lay here in his arms and listen to the strong wind wuthering through the white birch.


Copyright 2013 ©by V.L. Locey

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Monday Author/Book Spotlight-MO Kenyan`s Once Upon a Playboy



Please welcome another Secret Cravings author to our little corner of the interweb! Today MO Kenyon is here to fill us in on her book, Once Upon a Playboy.






Blurb:
Karma’s a bitch. Life is too, and DJ found that out the hard way, but his alter-ego provides the perfect place to hide. In his playboy persona, he can escape the betrayal, the wounds, and the guilt of his past—after all, life in the fast lane leaves little time for anything other than women, drink and the high life of self-gratification. For the first time in his life, DJ is living free and loving every minute of his emotionless existence.

Then he meets Eve—sweet, perfect Eve, the most unlikely stalker imaginable. Innocence is a powerful weapon in the right hands, and love is a broadside guaranteed to bring down even the most hardened playboy. It has all the makings of a happy ending, right?

But Karma’s a bitch, with a vindictive knack of twisting to past to destroy the future. With DJ and Eve torn apart, victims of revenge and their own weaknesses, Karma wins again. Or so it seems…

Excerpt
DJ had never run away from anything in his life, until this moment. He couldn’t explain it, but his heart had kicked into gear when he looked into those deep, emerald eyes. She was trouble, and DJ couldn’t afford that kind of trouble at the moment. He was here trying to find himself, not his heart. He took out his phone and called Ava. “Change of plans. Meet me at my cabin instead.”

DJ gave one backward glance and instantly regretted it. Now he knew why they said once you decide to move on never look back. Eve, that was her name, it had to be creational. She was standing at the window, watching him with a look in her eyes that he hoped didn’t mean more than a normal crush. DJ knew how to handle girls with crushes. He gave them a kiss, a night of sex, a piece of jewelry and it was ci vediamo mai, as they said in his mother’s language. And for those who didn’t understand, see you never. However, emerald didn’t look like the type a man had fun in the sack with and waved goodbye to. Not without taking a serious blow to the heart. That was damage he couldn’t take at the moment. Falling in love was definitely not an option.

Then walk away. Stop staring at her. Don’t notice how perfectly the sun illuminates her glowing face. Look away from her thick hair that you would love to bury your fingers in as you kiss her. And, for the love of God, do not look into her enchanting emerald eyes.

“Mio Dio, don’t do this to me now.” DJ wasn’t a religious man, but when he came across a woman like Eve, it was hard not to believe in divine intervention. He put on his sunglasses and half-ran, half-walked away.

A night with Ava, followed by a binge of sex with a few willing names he had in his phone directory, and in a few days he wouldn’t remember Eve. Deciding never to go back to the coffee shop was also an added advantage. If he didn’t see the object of his…desire…no, torture, he wouldn’t think about her. Out of sight, out of mind.

DJ walked down the path that led to his beach cabin. It didn’t help that it was only a hundred yards from the café. He would have to look into moving. DJ stopped in his tracks and laughed at himself. He couldn’t believe that he was willing to go through so much to avoid an attraction… that’s what it was. Love at first sight was saved for little children and their fairy tales. This was real life. Kono knew that, so did Reno and now Rayne. He needed to focus his attention on helping his big brother with their sisters. Thinking about the love he had for two of the most important girls in his life was bound to overturn the…fascination, for want of a better word, he had with Eve.

For the moment, burying himself deep into a vivacious redhead with the talent of making a man buck in bed like a fish out of water would have to do. DJ stepped into his cottage and stripped off his shirt and jeans. He poured himself a glass of whisky and sat by the window, waiting. The moment he looked at his watch there was a knock on the door. Even though Ava regularly dropped by for sex, he never gave her a key. A key symbolized more than he was willing to give. It meant walk into…no, invade…my life when the need arises. Come snoop in my things. Put my drawers in disarray as you arrange yours. And in DJ’s bathroom there was definitely no room for two toothbrushes.

DJ opened the door and Ava greeted him with a smile and a bikini top that showed more than it should. Her bare legs peeked from under the sarong she was wearing. With one sweep of his gaze he took her all in. That was the moment he knew he was fucked, screwed, done for. Instead of pulling Ava into his arms and devouring her sexy body, he got the urge to shut the door in her face. His survival instincts kept him from doing it. Instead, he stepped back and let her walk in.

“Hallo, darling.” The sway of her hips seemed more exaggerated with each step she took. “I had to change my outfit since you changed our rendezvous place. I thought you liked the coffee there. It is morning.”

Ava swirled around and, by the frown on her face, DJ knew they were about to get into it.

“Whisky, this early in the morning? I know it is happy hour somewhere, but that somewhere is not here.” She looked down at her watch. “It’s barely ten o’clock, for Christ’s sake. I will not have an alcoholic for a beau.”

“Then it’s a good thing I am not your beau.” DJ threw back the contents of his glass and sat back in an arm chair. “Take your clothes off.”

“I see you got a head start.”

“Stop talking and start stripping.”