Judith Leger

Sinfully Scandalous - Rosalie Stanton

2012-01-16T15:35:00.000-08:00

http://www.liquidsilverbooks.com/

Thou shalt not commit adultery.

It’s an order that Luxi, Sin of Lust, never saw coming. When you work for Lucifer, though, you tend to lay off the questions. She isn’t comforted when she discovers her assignment is to intern for a preacher-turned-politician, especially when her directive goes no further. As Luxi prepares for a long ride to nowhere, she can’t help but wonder if something else is at play…or what the King of Hell has up his sleeve.

Grayson Bailey’s run for state senate is going nowhere fast. The poll numbers are depressing, his campaign advisor is on the verge of a nervous breakdown, and someone out there has a bullet with his name on it. Yet when temptation herself struts through the door with a sassy smirk and an attitude to match, Grayson finds it very hard to remember which obligations are at the top.

The closer Grayson gets to Luxi, the stranger his life becomes. With Election Day—and a psycho with a gun—just around the corner, he can’t afford any detours. And while Luxi never puts her heart on the line, there’s something about this man that tests her resolve…though it might end up costing her more than she can afford.

Rosalie Stanton
"To read makes our speaking English good."
Author of Paranormal & Contemporary Erotic Romance
Website
Blog
Twitter

Goals and Resolutions

2012-01-07T11:47:00.000-08:00

That's the talk around town this time of year. New year, new start I guess. Like a new day, the dawn of this part of our year where we grab hold and hang on tight for the unknown ride toward the end.

Everyone has their aspirations they hope to achieve before the end of 2012.

Me? I want to write and (fingers crossed here) have books contracted this year.

Don't get me wrong. I have a ton of goals but honestly they are carried over from year to year. Some are crossed off while others linger in the pile to be completeed in the future.

So what are your aspirations?

Not just with writing and reading but with anything. Would love to hear them!

JudithLeger

The Visionary Pamela Thibodeaux

2011-12-15T03:00:00.000-08:00

When I first wrote TheVisionary in a 5-subject notebook (where most of my stuff began wayback when) I had in mind a sweet romance featuring m/f twins and their loveinterests. When I first typed the novel, I thought, “this is my light romance!”which was a great relief after some of my other work which dealt with subjectslike domestic violence, grief, and betrayal.

However, one day I sent off thefirst 3 chapters to a friend and her response was, “these twins are awfulclose, you need to be careful.” Of course that made me wonder Why? What happened to them or betweenthem to make them so close (I couldn’t seem to tone down their intense feelingsfor one another). Then one day I walked out of my office into the living roomwhere my husband sat watching a popular talk show. In a heart-wrenching scenethe young man on the show apologized to his sisters because he couldn’t stopthe abuse they suffered at the hands of their father.

I swear, every drop ofblood drained from my body and I began to argue with God…. No! Not that! Anything but that! I can’t write this! I have no experience in this! I’m not qualified asa minister or therapist! God….PLEASE….no. Three days of wavering, threedays of arguing, three days of not being able to sit down and write a singleword and God finally confronted me with…. “Who are you writing for anyway?” Icapitulated and wrote the entire story in 4 months during the busiest time ofyear for a bookkeeper/tax preparer (Jan - April).

BLURB:

A visionary is someone who sees into the future TaylorForrestier sees into the past but only as it pertains to her work. Hailed byher peers as “a visionary with an instinct for beauty and an eye for theunique” Taylor is undoubtedly a brilliant architect and gifteddesigner. But she and twin brother Trevor, share more than a successfulbusiness. The two share a childhood wrought with lies and deceit and the kindof abuse that’s disturbingly prevalent in today’s society. Can the love of God and the awesome healingpower of His grace and mercy free the twins from their past and open theirhearts to the good plan and the future He has for their lives? Find out in…The Visionary ~ Where the powerof God's love heals the most wounded of souls.

EXCERPT #1:

Taylor Forrestier awokewith a muffled scream. Her feet tangled in the bedcovers when she tried to bolt,and she landed on the floor with a thud and a whimper. She kicked free of thesheets and blankets then crawled into a corner. Eyes wide with horror, shetried to make sense of the shadows that danced around her, to separate the onesin the room from those in her mind. Her heart thundered. Breath escaped inshort pants. She drew her knees to her chest, took several deep breaths to keepfrom hyperventilating, then closed her eyes and rested her head.

Shiversovertook her slender frame. A sob escaped. Oh,God, would the nightmares ever cease, the ghosts ever rest in peace?

Resolve straightenedher spine. Eyes still closed, she inched her way to the bedside table. Her handtrembled when she turned on the lamp. The light forced darkness from the room,but only one thing would push it from her mind. Agility born of fear drove herto her feet. She fumbled into a sweat suit, socks and tennis shoes, scraped herhair up into a ponytail, then fled.

EXCERPT #2:

Taylorthrashed about and fought the fear clamoring in her throat. Panic stole herbreath. The monster held her while Trevor grappled with a gun. She struggledand kicked, but the monster held her fast. She had to get away. She had to stophim! She begged and pleaded, but the monster just laughed. His gnarled, horridsound sent shivers of terror through her soul. A blast of gunshot, a flash oflightning, and the scream tore free from her throat and echoed through theroom. The door burst open and strong arms encircled her. Gentle hands strokedand soothed, a soft voice caressed, tender words flowed over her. Taylor buriedher face in Alex’s shoulder while he cradled her against his chest and rocked.

“I’m sorry.I didn’t mean to wake you,” she murmured. A pulse hammered against her skin, atremble shimmered down her spine. She pushed herself closer, found safety andcomfort in his embrace. Alex tightened his arms around her, smoothed her hair.

“It’s okay. That’swhy I’m here and exactly why I didn’t want to leave you alone tonight.”

EXCERPT #3:

Pam took adeep breath and forced herself to calm down. “I love you, Trevor. Why won’t youtalk to me? Tell me what’s wrong.”

“You have noidea what love is.” He hissed through teeth clenched as tightly as the fists byhis side. “Most people have no inkling as to what true love is. True love issticking together when your whole world is falling apart, trusting each otherwhen you can’t depend on another living soul, and being willing to die or killfor each other.”

EXCERPT #4:

Trevorhovered in the place between wakefulness and sleep, darkness and light, heavenand hell. He could hear his sister’s voice, but he couldn’t see her, couldn’tfind her in the darkness, and couldn’t reach her in the red haze of pain andfear. He was hot, so hot. He burned with anger and shame and shook with thefear that kept him bound, unable to get to her. He felt trapped, helpless. Shecalled to him again, but it was the sound of a little girl whimpering. Hemumbled her name, assured her he was there, that he’d save and protect her. Itwouldn’t happen again, he promised and struggled to jerk his hands from theirrestraints, to break through the darkness and rescue her.

EXCERPT #5:

“Thank you for takingsuch good care of me.”

“I’m not through yet,”he mumbled, then slid off the couch and swung her up in his arms.

Fear snuck in,darkening her eyes. She stiffened and opened her mouth to protest. He brushedhis lips over hers and silenced her objections.

“I just want to holdyou,” he whispered and laid his forehead against hers. “That’s all. I promise,”he added, unable to camouflage the need in his voice.

***

He’d offered heranother step to relinquish her fear and trust him. Triumph lit his expressiveeyes when she wrapped her arm around his neck, smiled, and whispered, “Okay,”then snuggled her face against his shoulder and let him carry her to thebedroom.

With exquisitetenderness, he laid her on the bed, crawled up beside her, and took her in hisarms. Taylor felt the strength of his need in the heat and tensed against the hardnessof his body. He eased his grip and propped up on one elbow beside her. His eyespleaded for grace when he stroked the hair off her face and said in a soft,husky voice, “Please don’t be afraid of me; please trust me. I will never forceor even persuade you to give more than you’re ready to.”

They gazed at each otherfor a long, tender moment. She cupped his cheek in her hand, brushed her thumbover his mouth, then curled her fingers in his hair and urged his head down tofasten her lips to his. A low moan escaped his throat, yet he held himselftaut.

Taylor ran her hand over his shoulder and back in a soft caress then wrapped her arms around his waist. “Hold me, Alex, I trust you.”

The emotions reflected in his tone caressed her heart when he thanked her in that beautiful velvety-rough voice. He rolled onto his back, pulled the covers over her, and held her while she slept.

AUTHOR BIO:

Award-winning author, Pamela S.Thibodeaux is the Co-Founder and a lifetime member of Bayou Writers Group inLake Charles, Louisiana. Multi-published in romantic fiction as well ascreative non-fiction, her writing has been tagged as, “Inspirational with anEdge!” ™ and reviewed as “steamierand grittier than the typical Christian novel without decreasing the message.”

Website address: http://www.pamelathibodeaux.com

Blog: http://pamswildroseblog.blogspot.com

Bayou Writers Group: http://bayouwritersgroup.com

BUY LINKS:

Amazon: http://amzn.to/n8as1b

Barnes & Noble: http://bit.ly/o3YrMq

New Release from Jerri Drennen!!

2011-12-01T03:31:00.000-08:00

I had to give my dear friend and fellow crit partner a shout out on the new release of her novel, Her Man Flint!! I love her cover and the insides are pretty good too!

Grab a copy here: http://www.amazon.com/Flint-Department-National-Security-ebook/dp/B006EP1BBC/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1322741974&sr=1-1

If James Bond and Cleopatra Jones had a daughter, Adriana Kent would kick her ass.

Everything Adriana knows about being a top-notch, undercover agent she's learned from her partner, Flint Morgan, in and out of the sheets. That is, until he's caught between those same bed linens with another woman. Heartbroken, Adriana refuses to forgive him. But when 'the other woman' is found dead in Flint's apartment, she steps up to prove his innocence--he might be a womanizer, but he's no killer.

As Adriana closes in on a suspect, she's kidnapped and sent overseas to a sadistic prince who collects women like priceless pieces of art. Now this tough as nails agent finds herself playing the helpless courtesan to a man hell-bent on breaking her spirit. Flint arrives in the nick of time, dressed as a harem girl, fighting off randy guards and surly camels to rescue Adriana so they can fly back to the states to find a way to exonerate him for murder.

Excerpt for Her Man Flint

“Are you going to lie there all day, or are we going to getthe hell out of Dodge?”

The voice was unmistakable. “Adriana,” he growled.

“What? Were you expecting Lindsey ‘Silicone’ Warren,perhaps?” Adriana popped her head out from behind the huge rock in front of himfor a brief second, glared, then ducked behind the boulder again. “Sorry todisappoint you, but that woman wouldn’t break a fake nail to save your arrogantass.”

“Cute.” Flint eased up and clutched his side, puttingpressure on the wound in hopes of easing the flow of blood between his fingers.

“You think she’d care one way or the other if you made itout of here alive?” Adriana continued. “Who do you think set you up anyway?”

“You did,” Flint tossed her way.

She jumped up again, her eyes spitting fire. “The hell Idid. I stopped by Billy’s this morning. He asked me what I wanted when I calledyou yesterday.” With a seriousness Flint had never seen before, she shook herblonde head, her glare boring into him. “I never called you. He told me youwere headed out here, and I knew you were in big trouble. Did you know yourprecious Lindsey dated Hartford?”

“What?” Flint’s mouth slacked in astonishment.

“Yeah, they were a hot item last summer.” Her gaze turnedice cold. “Apparently the relationship never ended. Why would you think I’d setyou up anyway? Believe it or not, I did care for you at one time.”

Adriana abruptly looked up and aimed her rifle, firing at aman who’d popped his head over the ledge, then cursed like a sailor when shemissed the mark. “Move your ass. I’m not going to be your back forever.”

She fired again, this time smiling with satisfaction whenthe man clutched at his shoulder.

“One down.”

Flint scrambled over to the boulder she used as a shield andpulled himself behind it, moving in close to her.

Instantly, her womanly scentfilled the air around him, a perfume he remembered all too well—a sweet,flowery fragrance with just a hint of musk. The stuff had always done strangethings to his libido. Today was no exception. Even in danger and wounded, hefound it difficult to ignore her wonderful essence. Hell, her in general.

“Why’d you come, Dray?” He slid to the ground, his backagainst the rock while he wiped sweat from his brow onto his shirtsleeve.

He glanced back at her with curiosity. Today, her long,ash-blonde hair was pulled away from her face, her perfect ivory complexionsmudged with dirt that no way detracted from her beauty. Her attention was ontheir surroundings—no doubt trying to figure the best way to get them out ofthe mess he’d gotten them into.

He watched her intently, shocked to realize he’d missed her.“Why’d you save me?”

She turned to face him. “We’re partners. Isn’t that whatpartners do?”

“But what about—”

“Forget it. So our personal relationship didn’t workout—that doesn’t mean our professional association at the department can’tcontinue.”

Adriana turned away and fired again, this time at a manwho’d started down the ravine after them. Her shot was off again.

Intense pain cut through Flint’s side as he shifted hisbody. “I owe you one.”

She returned her attention to him and grinned. “Do I get tochoose payment?”

Before he could answer, she turned to the leather-clad manwho was moving again. Taking aim, she fired, hitting the goon in the leg. Theblast sent the assailant firing wildly in the air before tumbling down into thegorge.

“That’s two.” Her triumphant smile said she was pleased withherself.

“We were discussing payment. What’d you have in mind?”Flint’s grin turned to a grimace when another wave of pain sliced through him.

Adriana’s frown deepened as she studied the area. “Let’s getout of this alive, and then we’ll talk.” She pointed to his side. “How bad isit? You think you can run?”

Despite the blood soaking his shirt, he knew he couldscramble if need be. “It’s nothing. I’ll be right behind you.”

“Let’s go.” Adriana raced for the next boulder about twentyfeet away, Flint hot on her heels. On the way, she tried to sidestep sagebrushin her path, but instead hit it head-on and stumbled, rolling to the rockyground and landed hard on her back.

Flint dove on top her as a barrage of bullets flew overthem.

“Man, they really want you dead. Could you get off me?” Shescowled and tried to push him away, her breath coming in quick, uneven gasps.

Flint stared at her flushed face, painfully aware of thesoft yet firm breasts beneath him. Emotions he’d thought long dead stirred himto distraction.

“I’m sure the same thought crossed your mind a time or two.”He studied her face for a reaction, then lifted himself from her.

A hint of amusement danced in her eyes. “No, not dead.Castrated maybe.”

As she rose in preparation to run again, her meaning sunk inand caused Flint’s groin to twitch. “Oh, that hurt.”

He grabbed her arm and pulled her back to the ground asanother bullet buzzed past them.

“Yes, I imagine it would for someone who thought with hisdick instead of his brain.”

Flint couldn’t help but smile. She had such a foul, sexymouth. He reached over and laced his fingers through a loose strand of hair,caressing its soft, silky texture. “Have I ever told you, Dray, that you havethe prettiest blonde hair?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact you have. It was right around thetime you were trying to get in my pants.” She glanced around. “We don’t havetime for reminiscing, Flint. If you hadn’t noticed, people are trying to killus.”

“Right. Well, it is nice,” he mumbled under his breath.

Adriana wiggled away and sat up. “Flatter me later.”

He chuckled, then grimaced when his amusement garnered him akick in the shin.

Another round flew by and ricocheted off a nearby rock,sending them scurrying further behind the boulder protecting them, and remindedFlint that they weren’t forgotten by their attackers.

Hunching over her, he asked, “Where’s your car?”

“Over there.” Adriana pointed to a large formation andalmost lost a finger when another slug zipped past.

She gasped and clutched at her hand, her eyes narrowing onhim.

“Are you hurt?” Flint reached for her fingers, but shepulled away.

“If I lose even a hair on my head, Flint Morgan, you’llpay.”

Like a snake, she slithered toward the large rock where hercar was hidden. A well-timed storm cloud crossed over the sun and cast a shadowover the ravine, giving them the opportunity to make their move to the largerformation.

Flint crawled behind Adriana. He couldn’t help but admireher perfectly rounded bottom, clad in a pair of tan khakis. She really did havethe best looking rear-end he’d ever seen in his life.

“Did I ask you to save my ass?” he asked, his mind nowconsumed by hers, rather than what he should be worried about—getting them outof this mess alive.

“No, but I couldn’t help but recall yours, and I didn’t wantto see it get shot off. Now crawl faster before my ass is the one that ends upwith lead in it.”

He smiled again. The women definitely had wit.

They made their way to a pile of enormous boulders, just afew feet from Adriana’s red Porsche when Flint heard the faint thrum of ahelicopter in the distance.

Adriana cursed. “Who the hell’s coming now—guerillafighters? What if they’re not the good guys, Flint? What are we going to do?”

“Just keep moving. We’ll do whatever we have to. You got anyguns in your car?”

“Yeah, two. No extra ammo, though. Only what’s loaded in myGlock and .45.”

The chopper flew overhead and circled the compound beforefanning out into what was clearly a search maneuver.

“Can you see any markings on the craft?” Flint squinted,trying to make out anything that would give him some idea whether it was friendor foe.

Her green eyes widened and in a soft voice she said, “Idon’t think we’re going to make it out of here alive, Flint. I need to tell yousomething.”

“Oh? What’s that?” he asked, his attention still on thehelicopter above them.

“I wanted you to know—”

“I think it’s Billy,” he interrupted, waving his hands todraw the pilot’s attention.

The craft flew over them once, then landed in an open fielda short distance away.

“Run.” Flint grasped her arm and pulled her toward theaircraft, using a zigzag pattern to dodge stray bullets, while fighting therush of intense whirlwind caused by the propeller blades.

When they reached the chopper, he shoved Adriana inside andjumped in behind her.

Instantly, they took off, hovering just long enough for themto see three men aiming their weapons up in the air.

“Get us the hell out of here, Billy. Before they shoot usdown.” The ping of a bullet hit the side of the

chopper and pounded home theimportance of Flint’s words.

“Right away, boss. Glad to see you’re alive. I thought I wasgoing to have to take you out in a body bag.”

The chopper pivoted forward and left the compound.

“You might have had to if Adriana hadn’t come along. SayDray”…Flint glanced at the blood clotting on his shirt, then looked up to meether gaze. “What were you trying to tell me back there?”

Adriana shook her head. “Nothing. It wasn’t important.”

She turned to stare out the window, leaving Flint to wonderwhat seemed so dire just seconds ago, yet now that they were safely on theirway home, turned into nothing?

Men packing more than just Handguns

http://jerridrennen.com/

A Little Bit of What I Love by Lucy Felthouse

2011-11-29T04:00:00.000-08:00

Thanks to Judith for having me here todayto share a little bit about my novella, LoveThrough Time, which was just released as part of Noble Romance's Timeless Desire collection.

The background of my story is simple – thetheme was chosen for us. "Timeless desire" was to be out theme tointerpret as we wished. I scratched my head for a while trying to come up withsomething that I was happy with, and wanted to write. Once I had the idea,though, there was no stopping me. Because, you see, after then I simply went onto write a little bit of what I love.

I love country houses, libraries and books.I spend lots of my weekends going around visiting country houses and admiringtheir interiors and exteriors. I see a lot of their libraries, some moreimpressive than others, and more houses still which have bookshelves here,there and everywhere.

When I came up with the idea for Love Through Time I immediately knewthat I wanted to set it in a country house. Preferably in a library. Which ishow the idea of making the main character, Emily, a book conservator came about.That way, she could be working with books in a library, inside a country house.

Right there, you have three things that I love, all rolled into one story!

The house in the story, Westbury Manor,doesn't really exist. It's an amalgamation of different houses. I've basicallychosen my favourite features from many houses and put them together to make asuitable setting for my novella. The library, however, is based on a realplace, with some tweaks to make it work better within my story.

It was great fun to write about theseplaces in Love Through Time, and setthe action within places that I'm enthusiastic about and love to visit. It'sstories like this that make being a writer so much fun! I hope that you'll readthe story and be mentally transported to the setting, seeing what I've seen,and exactly why I'm so enthusiastic about it.

Happy reading!

Blurb:

Westbury Manor is a stately home with afascinating past, and when book conservator Emily Stone starts uncovering it,she's startled by what she finds . . . .

Emily arrives at Westbury Manor with a jobto do. She's to clean and conserve all of the books in their impressivelibrary, preserving them for future generations. Not long into her stay at thehouse, she bumps into the night guard, George. She'd expected an old, baldingguy with a comb over, so the hunky chap she actually meets is a very pleasantsurprise. The introductions complete, George leaves Emily in peace to get onwith her job. But when a falling photograph sets off a chain reaction ofghostly events, Emily and George are thrown together in order to find outwho—or what—is causing them. Their investigation uncovers a tragic past, a lostlove, and a stunning secret.

Buy link: https://www.nobleromance.com/Authors/162/Lucy-Felthouse

Excerpt:

Emily received some strange looks andfrowns from the people she passed as she walked across the graveled drivetoward the front entrance of Westbury Hall. She could appreciate theirconfusion. It was closing time for the stately home, and the last of thevisitors were being politely ushered out of the building, yet she was headinginside. She'd been invited. She had a job to do.

An elderly lady stood in the porch, smiling and nodding asshe held the door open for those departing the hall. Most of them seemed in nohurry to leave, stopping to make comments to the woman at the door, thankingher for a lovely visit and so on. Emily waited patiently to the side, allowingthe patrons to leave before attempting to enter. When the staff member—mostlikely a volunteer, Emily thought—caught sight of her, she gave her a politenod of acknowledgment.

Finally, the last of Westbury Hall's visitors moved out,leaving Emily free to enter. Climbing the single, stone step to the threshold,she took the hand already offered her.

Shaking Emily's hand with a surprising firmness, the womansaid, "You must be Miss Stone." Her smart appearance and theintelligence in her eyes indicated that despite her age, she was far from pastit. "I'm Mrs. Thompson, house supervisor."

"I am," Emily replied, dropping her hand back toher side, "but please, call me Emily. It's lovely to meet you. So, housesupervisor? Do you live on site?"

Indicating Emily should step inside the entrance hall, Mrs.Thompson proceeded to close and lock the porch and front doors of the house,securing them in.

"I do," the older woman said, turning back to faceEmily, "I have rooms in a separate building just off the back of this one.So you needn't worry about me disturbing you."

"Oh no," Emily said, worried she'd inadvertentlyrubbed Mrs. Thompson the wrong way. "I didn't mean that. I was just curious.You're more than welcome to see me at work, Mrs. Thompson; although, I'm afraidyou won't see anything terribly exciting."

Mrs. Thompson smiled now, the warmth reaching her eyes. Emilysighed silently with relief. She'd yet to see the extent of the work she had todo, but she'd been told it was no easy task, so she could be here for sometime. The last thing she needed was to upset any of the staff.

"Oh, you'd be surprised, my dear. This is a fascinatingold place. Of course, all these old houses have history, but Westbury Hall's isparticularly rich."

Emily smiled. The woman's enthusiasm was infectious. "Wellthen," she replied, "I can't wait to learn more about it. I hope you'llfeed me full of historical tidbits while I'm here?"

Mrs. Thompson gave an enigmatic smile. Then, startling Emilysomewhat, she turned smartly on her heel and walked deeper into the house. "Come,my dear, I won't hold you up any longer. I'll show you to the library, whereyou'll soon start uncovering Westbury's illustrious history for yourself."

*****

Lucy is a graduate of the University ofDerby, where she studied Creative Writing. During her first year, she was daredto write an erotic story - so she did. It went down a storm and she's neverlooked back. Lucy has had stories published by Cleis Press, Noble Romance,Ravenous Romance, Summerhouse Publishing, Sweetmeats Press and Xcite Books. Sheis also the editor of Uniform Behaviour and Seducing the Myth. Find out more athttp://www.lucyfelthouse.co.uk.You can also find her on Facebookand Twitter.

KevaD - A Dance with Bogie and Bacall

2011-11-23T04:00:00.000-08:00

Hello,Judith, and thank you very much for hosting me here today.

Andthank you, the readers, for dropping by and seeing what we're up to.

I'mKevaD, and I write in a variety of genres, from romance to comedy to horror.

"ADance with Bogie and Bacall" is an innocent tale of two people stumblingthrough life, and the ghost bent on bringing them together.

Blurb:

Radio DJ Scott Kincaid's first caller ofthe night is a lady who died forty-nine years ago. The second wants to knock hishead off. And he thought falling in love would be easy.

Maureenand Frank Johnson shared the kind of romance most people believe only exists inmovies. Until a ballroom fire took Maureen's life.

FranciJohnson grew up hearing her grandparents' love story a thousand times andwishes to find the kind of undying love Frank and Maureen had once upon a time.

DJScott Kincaid just wants the ghost following him to go away. But Maureen thinksthe hunky DJ might be just the answer to her granddaughter's dreams.

"ADance with Bogie and Bacall" came about purely by accident, orserendipity. Not really sure which.

I'dturned on some music while contemplating a love story for the Noble RomancePublishing Timeless Desire Line. On came Bertie Higgins's Key Largo, and that was all she wrote. Or in my case, that was theinspiration for what I wrote. I called up the video on Youtube and played itover, and over, and over, and over… Until my wife begged me to stop. Then Iturned the volume down, hit replay, and continued writing.

Inall fairness, the only similarity between my story and Bertie's song is theinclusion of Bogie and Bacall. In my story, the duo make a film appearance asthe ghost tries to create a romantic moment sure to bring the two young heartsof our hero and heroine together. Chalk up another failure, and implement PlanQ.

However,"A Dance with Bogie and Bacall" isn't all flowers and candy. Life andlove never is.

Here'swhat two readers have said already:

"I adore A Dance with Bogie and Bacall! You owe me abox of Kleenex!" – author Debbie Vaughan

"Hey, Man, COULD NOT put that book down....Verygood...Loved it.." – reader Margie Snyder Heitz

I hope you will too.

Thanks for stopping by, and be sure to click the logo togo to your next stop on the tour.

DavidKentner/KevaD

http://www.kevad.net/

https://www.nobleromance.com/Authors/116

http://www.rainbowebooks.com/store/product_info.php?products_id=4507

Excerpt:

Frank propped his elbow on the ironrailing at the edge of the dance floor and absently watched yet anotherHumphrey Bogart lookalike attired as film noire detective Sam Spade arrogantlystrut across the ballroom, through the forest of faux palm trees and pottedplants with crepe paper leaves. Ribbons of gray tobacco smoke broke and swirledin his wake. The hard, leather heels of his polished shoes clicked a beat onthe floorboards. At a rickety, corner table barely illuminated under theflickering flame of a sconce gas lamp, a Rick Blaine copy in the character'spatented white tux and black tie rose from a wooden folding chair and graspedSam's extended hand. An obvious Vivian Sternwood Rutledge in full aqua gownuncharacteristically scurried across the floor until she stood at Sam's sidewhere she ran her hand over the back of his black suit coat. A glint of a toolong pocket watch gold chain flashed in the dim, orange light. A subtle nod toRick's left, and Sam turned his shoulders to take the hand of a seated NoraTemple resplendently sensuous in a black dress with plunging neckline thattickled the top of the fleshy V of her very noticeable, ample cleavage.

"You're staring," whisperedFrank's own duplicated Nora into his right ear. "Not that she doesn't havea lot to stare at."

"She forgot the necklace. WhenLauren Bacall played Nora, she wore a necklace with that dress in Key Largo.A silver one that clung to the base of her throat and accentuated the gracefulturns of her head. Lauren Bacall isn't only the most beautiful actress to evergrace the silver screen, she makes the clothing and accoutrements she wearsstunning"—he shifted his gaze and lost himself in his wife's glisteninggreen eyes—"just like you do."

A quickly raised hand pinched his jaw atthe chin. "Franklin Johnson, you are such a liar." Maureen's glossyred lips curled at the corners. "But a sweet one." She pushed hisface left. "She's wearing the necklace."

He coughed a hairball of embarrassment.Oops.

Maureen pulled his face back to hers. Inheels, she stood nearly as tall as he did

and leaned in as if to offer up a kissbut stopped a heated breath short. "You want to gawk at a woman's chest,gawk at your wife's."

Frank glanced down. Maureen had capturedthe top of her black silk, body-clinging dress between thumb and forefingerallowing a full view of her diminutive, unclad breasts and perked, pinknipples.

His groin stirred immediately within hisRick Blaine white tuxedo trousers. "You hussy," he heaved out in athick rasp. "Where is your brassiere? Some new moral descent didn't happenwhen we left the 50s behind us." Heat scorched his ears. How had he notnoticed before this? His breath caught. God, she was beautiful.

"Built-in cups just firm enough tohold me in place." She chuckled at his discomfort and released the cloth,then slipped her arms beneath his jacket and around his torso. Inching in tohim, she only stopped when the hardened beads atop her bosom pressed throughhis shirt and against his chest.

"Mmm," he moaned. Her mouthfound his ear. Little nips tugged at the lobe. He stroked the sides of her bodyunder the cool silk. The temperature of her skin headed for sweltering, thesilken material warmed. Sweat beaded under his arms and between his thighs. Shepressed into his thickening erection, which snapped to full attention under atidal wave of arousal.

He allowed himself the publiclydisplayed pleasure of sliding his hands to the top of her buttocks, tracing theindentation with his little fingers. Nuzzling her soft throat, he whispered,"I want to make love to you right now. Let's get out of here."

The six-piece band comprised of threestrings, the leader's clarinet, one sax, and a trombone returned from break tothe small stage at the end of the long room, and oozed into a slow, softrendition of As Time Goes By. Humphrey Bogarts and Lauren Bacalls of allsizes, shapes, and costumes materialized from the shadows of the gas lampsresurrected for this annual event celebrating Bogart's life and death. Thepast's mimes took to the dance floor under tiny squares of haunting light fromthe mirrored orb of the Harvest Moon Ballroom.

"No." Maureen grabbed his handand yanked him into the throng of couples on

the dance floor. "Bogie and Bacallwouldn't let a night like this go to waste . . . and neither will we." Herleft hand snaked its way to the small of his back, her right took his left in apretense of submitting to his "lead." She opted for a closed boxfoxtrot with her body trying to merge with his, their steps no more thanfoot-length shuffles.

"Besides, you haven't given me myanniversary orchid yet. Ten years today, Franklin Johnson. And though I loveyou more than ever, and have borne you three children, you will give memy orchid."

All the blood in him fell to his feet.The room swayed, but not to the music. The mirrored ball spun in a prismaticdervish. A ghostly orchid, fragile and pulsing its matte colors, swirled in andout of his vision.

"Frank? Frank! Are you allright?"

Movement. His. Somehow he moved acrossthe floor—the orchid just beyond his grasp led the way.

"Sit down." The voice from anunseen well belonged to Maureen.

He did as instructed.

"I'll get you some water. I'll beright back."

The orchid hung motionless in the air.He reached out his open palm. The flower settled onto his skin. A smile partedhis lips. The orchid was as beautiful as Maureen. A faint heat emanated fromthe flower's core. He brought the bloom closer. Flames engulfed the petals,burned his hand. Reflexively he dropped the small ball of fire onto the tablewhere it disintegrated into black dust and disappeared.

"Drink this."

The chilled rim of a glass touched hislips. Iced water trickled between them. He gratefully swallowed the mouthful,filtering out the ice cubes with his teeth, and then gulped down the entireglassful of water.

"Come on, pal." A man's voice.Hands under his arms lifted Frank from the chair. "You just need to liedown a few minutes. A little too much bubbly, eh?"

"Our tenth anniversary,"Maureen said. "We had some champagne earlier, but I didn't think he'd hadthat much. My husband isn't a drinker normally. Only on special

occasions."

Frank flopped his head back, watchingthe dark ceiling boards skip past. He tried to count them, but they moved tooquickly as the men on either side of him half carried him from the ballroom.Then his feet scuffed their way up a stairway and into a small room. A lampclicked on. Light under an emerald shade flooded a cluttered desktop. He waslowered onto a leather couch that squeaked his arrival.

Maureen appeared in front of him andhelped him out of his jacket. She loosened his bowtie and unbuttoned hiscollar. Cool air sprinkled his exposed throat.

"I'll have a pitcher of water sentup. Stay as long as you want. Not the first time a guest needed that couch tosleep it off." Two shadows stepped through the doorway into the hall.

"He's not drunk," Maureen saidin a huff. She wiped his face with her open hand. "Are you okay, honey?You scared me there for a minute."

Little by little, Maureen's face cameinto focus. Lines of worry wrinkled her brow. Still, the creases somehow lookeddamn good on her. Age would meet its match in this gorgeous woman. Frankgrinned. "Yeah. Better now. Just got a little dizzy. I guess I should stayaway from champagne that comes in six-packs. I'm fine. Let's get out ofhere." He placed his hands on the cushions and pushed in an attempt tostand.

Maureen countered with her hands on hisshoulders. "You stay right there, Mister, until I'm sure you're allright."

He tilted his head and kissed her wrist."I'm okay. Honest. Let's go home." Something inside him rolled over.An urge, a need of some kind. A desire to leave this place.

"We will, Frank." Maureenguided him downward and placed a throw pillow under his head. "But I wantyou to rest for a few minutes. For me? Please?" She lifted his feet ontothe couch. His shoes thumped on the floor. Cool air swarmed over his stockingfeet, delivering a sense of comfort in its rush. Her hands went to his waist.His belt came undone, then his trousers unbuttoned.

Tension ebbed under Maureen's care.Wrapped in her love, he was as safe as she

was in his. He swept away the orchid asa momentary quirk in the thick tobacco smoke. "Too much champagne,celebration, dancing, and too much confined heat from the packed house crowd.That's all that happened. Nothing to be concerned with. I'm fine. And I stillwant to make love to you."

She arched a brow and ran the tip of hertongue across her red lips. Subtly moving her hips from side to side, shegripped the zipper of his pants and slowly tugged it down; each metal linkclicked surrender to Frank's private lap dancer. A not unfamiliar game in theirbedroom. But they certainly weren't in their bedroom. His interest and erectionswelled.

Ten years of marriage, and Maureen couldstill turn him on in an instant.

"Are you trying to seduce me,madam? I am a married man, you know." He waggled his left hand back andforth. "I have a ring and everything."

Maureen narrowed her eyes, and huskilywhispered, "It's the everything I'm after." She ran a fingerover the cylindrical shape of engorged flesh under his cotton briefs. "Bogieand Bacall wouldn't waste an opportunity like this."

A grin of desire spread across Frank'sface. "And neither will we."

The Story Behind The Story: J.S. Wayne’s “Angels”

2011-11-22T04:00:00.000-08:00

First, I’d like to thank Judith for letting me come over andtrash the place. (Sorry about the half-naked women curled up under the pianoand the thong dangling from the light fixture. Erm . . . uh . . . yeah.)

I’ve been talking a lot about “Ancient Magic” lately, so Iwanted to reverse gears for a moment and discuss the story behind the “Angels”series.

It starts back in my early twenties, when I began to getinterested in comparative religion. At the time, I’d found myself confrontedwith some very weird things I couldn’t fully get my head around, and being thecurious and scientific sort, I started looking for some answers to thequestions these strange experiences had left me with. But every answer I foundseemed to lead to another question, which could only be answered by lookingdeeper in another direction.

I covered a lot of very strange territory during this time,ranging from serial killers to Akkadian fertility rites to the hierarchies ofangels and demons. Then I took this esoteric knowledge and filed it away, butdidn’t do anything much with it (that I’ll admit to in a public forum!). And itsat in my mind and waited for the time I could utilize it.

Now, fast forward to October of 2010. While seekinginspiration for something to write just to kill some time and keep the mentalgears lubricated in preparation for NaNoWriMo ’10, I stumbled across a conteston Writing.com I’d entered once before and won. It had been several months sinceI’d entered this contest, partly because of real-life obligations and schedulesand partly to make sure other people got a fair chance to enter, so I hadn’tbothered with it. But on a gray, foggy, drizzly morning, I started thinkingabout an erotic paranormal romance story.

This was a huge deviation from my normal writing, because Iwas all about urban fantasy and paranormal horror. Sex was fine, even a hint ofromance if it happened to serve the story, but I couldn’t see myself actuallywriting a “true” romantic story complete with a happily ever after. As such, itposed a unique challenge for me.

But what to write about?Vampires? Meh: too many shades of Twilightlately, and besides, I’d already done vampires for my last entry.Werewolves? Same problem. But what else could I write about that had a chanceof being sexy and still dance on that slightly forbidden line I love to walk somuch?

I pondered the problem while driving down to the conveniencestore in our one-horse town. (Actually, this is an unfair assertion regardingwhere I was living at the time: The horse population was approximately twothirds of the human population. Add in the other quadruped residents and thehumans were solidly outnumbered!) I plugged in my MP3 player, hit “Random,” andsettled in for the drive.

The song that came on was Melissa Etheridge’s “Angels WouldFall.” I’ve always liked this song, and found myself singing along. By the timeI arrived at the C-store to take care of my Mountain Dew addiction, the germ ofan idea had begun to form. I paid for my liter of corrosive, probablycarcinogenic go juice, hurried home, and started listening to the song again.And again. And again.

The dreary fog of the day, the chill in the air, and thesong all conspired to unlock some door in my mind behind which all thatknowledge I’d amassed waited. In four hours, I’d completed the first draft of“Angels Would Fall” and submitted it for the contest.

That story became my first contracted story with NobleRomance, and I settled into being an erotic romance author. Soon, though, myinner editor attacked me with a follow-up story. The suggestion was that whileI’d more or less tied up the story in a neat little bow, it needed somethingmore. Perhaps taking a look at how other beings of Moradiel’s stature wouldview his defection from the Host was in order, to fully bring home the gravityof the situation. This idea quickly became “Angel of the Morning,” my second“Angels” tale, and I submitted it in March.

In short order, I had a contract for that, and I went aboutmy business, trying to work on a few other story ideas that had presentedthemselves. But the angels kept circling and wheeling in my mind, and I startedto write another short story. This one was initially supposed to be entitled“Angel of Harlem.”

And here’s where I ran into trouble.

No matter how I tried, I couldn’t make the story cohesiveand self-contained. All the elements were there, but there were just too manypotential threads I’d leave dangling if I tried to force everything I wantedand needed to include in <10k words. So, I fired off an email to Bryl Tyne,my editor at Noble, asking him what he thought about it (admittedly, in a toneof, shall we say, slight panic). I explained the problem and told him that I’dpretty much have to write a novel to get everything in I wanted.

He said, “Go for it!” Three weeks later, Angels Cry wascompleted, and two weeks later, after the beta readers had their way with itand I did a quick rewrite, I sent it off for submission. It released onSeptember 12^th, and remains my favorite romance work so far.

So now you know the tale behind the stories. I hope y’allenjoy them!

Thanks again to Judith for letting me come play today. Keepwatching the tour for more fun tidbits from your favorite authors!

Until next time,

Best,

J.S. Wayne

Find me on Twitter: @jswayne702

Catch up with me on Facebook: Author.JSWayne

Check out my blog: jswayne.wordpress.com

And see my available work at www.nobleromance.com/authors/155

Britta Adams - An Evening At Starlight

2011-11-16T04:00:00.001-08:00

An Evening at the Starlight is a story I wrote forthe Noble Romance Timeless Desire Blog Tour. With such a theme, I knew I'd haveto tap my sentimentality and so I did.

I've been a non-professional genealogist for manyyears and in that time, I've uncovered some incredible stories within my ownfamily tree. One involved my great-Uncle Roy, who died in a flood in 1945,leaving behind a young wife and four small children.

Though I never met Roy, I did meet his wife,Dorothy, many years later, in 1997. She was a frail woman of 82 at the time andwe enjoyed several afternoons talking about Roy and the hard-scrabble lifethey'd shared for all too few years.

"I told him not to go," she said, when Iasked her about the day of the flood. "It had been raining for hours andthe creek had flooded its banks. He went to work anyway and on the way, he andanother man stopped to help a family trying to get some of their things out ofthe house, as the foundation was shaky."

Aunt Dorothy cried when she told me how the wholehouse shifted and came off its foundation, sending Roy downstream, where he wasfound several hours later. "I told him not to go," she said over andover, as tears streamed down her face.

The entire time, she held a tiny photograph of her,Roy, and their oldest daughter, the only image she'd ever had of the man shestill loved, some fifty-two years after his death. "He was so kind, soloving. He loved to kiss."

That story has stayed with me and became the one Iloosely based An Evening at the Starlighton.

Starlight tells the story of Royal and Doe. A youngman comes into the Starlight, a 1940's bar, marital troubles on his mind. Bud,the bar keep, hears him out and then relates the story, in the hopes that Johncan understand the deeper meaning behind the words.

Being a huge fan of noir, I do hope the reader feelsthat vibe.

When it came time to title the story, I discussed itwith my husband and he said, "An Evening at the Starlight." It fitbeautifully and lent to the '40s feel of the piece.

One last bit of trivia. The woman in the frame onthe cover is actually my mother. Her name was Gladys Isabelle Sweener Martinsonand a lovely woman she was. She was Roy's niece and knew him well when she wasa child.

She loved to dance, as did Doe. Mom died in 1999 atthe age of 70 and she is truly missed. I thought it quite fitting that she bethe image of Doe for the story. I think she'd have like that very much.

Here's the blurb for An Evening at the Starlight:

John has a hardtime forgiving and forgetting, and his wife Christie’s tired of trying.

Doe and Royal’slove story reaches through the years and gives hope to a young man who’s losthope in his relationship. An Evening atthe Starlight and a tale of a once in a lifetime love that wouldn’t die mightbe exactly what John needs to move past the hurt and cherish the love he has.

Clickhere to read an excerpt and to purchase An Evening at the Starlight.

Find Brita at any of these places:

Email address: britaaddams@gmail.com

Website/Blog

Twitter: @britaaddams

Facebook

Goodreads Page

Jess Anastasi - The Story Behind The Story

2011-11-09T04:00:00.000-08:00

To talk about my Timeless Desire novella, Savior, I need to go right back to thestart of my Sanctuary Series.

Savior is set inthe Sanctuary universe, five hundred years in the future where an apocalypticwar between angels and demons is tearing the universe apart. Humans are dyingby the thousands, getting caught in the crossfire when battles destroy entireplanets. There is one angel who wants the war to end, who wants humans tosurvive. Archangel Michael is one powerful being. And he has the will and theway to change things for the better.

Honestly, when I sat down to write Sanctuary, a 30,000 word novella, I didn't have some grand schemein mind as to where the overall story was heading. All I knew was that I wantedto write about angels and demons. And I wanted to do something totallyout-there different with them… so why not set it five hundred years in thefuture and have them flying around the known universe in spaceships?

It wasn't until I was well into writing Sanctuary that I realized Archangel Michael was the pivotalcharacter, the master behind the scenes, making sure things got done. And as Iworked on Sanctuary, other ideasstarted coming to me for sequels. The notion of Michael's grand plan and theclimax that will eventually happen were revealed to me gradually. But now(luckily) I have a very clear picture of where everything is headed, the finalbattle, I suppose you could say.

Cadmiel, the Angel of Destiny and hero of Savior, appeared briefly in Sanctuary and I knew even back then thathe would have to get his own story at some point. There was something dark inhis background I couldn't see at the time.

Fast forward a year after Sanctuary was published (over two years after I’d written it) andNoble Romance Publishing's Timeless Desire blog tour came up. I thought theeasiest thing to do would be write a book connected to the Sanctuary Series,and when I thought about the "time" theme, Cadmiel popped into myhead and suddenly I could see his whole story. It just fit so perfectly.

So that's the story behind the story of how Cadmiel's book,Savior came about.

Blurb:

Cadmiel, the Angel of Destiny, knows better than anyone doeswhat a bitch fate can be. Five hundred years ago, the only woman he ever lovedwas killed, shredding his soul and leaving a void in place of his heart.
NowArchangel Michael comes to him with a shocking and forbidden proposal. He wantsCadmiel to travel back in time and save Emilyn. Though Cadmiel wishes beyondall reasoning to do as the archangel asks, messing with time goes against hisown beliefs and the very foundations of angel lore. But Michael doesn't giveCadmiel a choice and thrusts him through time and space, back to 2012.

The first time Emilyn saw the gorgeous man, she was affected on a level shecouldn't comprehend. Cadmiel isn't like any other guy she's ever met, and hemakes her wish love at first sight were true. But there are forces at work shenever dreamed real. In the space of a day, she goes from normal, every-daycollege student, to a pawn in an apocalyptic war between angels and demons.

Emilyn's very life is in Cadmiel's hands. Will he risk the future of the entireuniverse to save her, or let her die and destroy himself in the process?

www.jessanastasi.com / www.jessanastasi.blogspot.com
Singularity - available 17th October 2011 from Noble Romance Publishing
Savior - available 3rd of October, a Timeless Desire novella and Sanctuary spin-off Read the first two books in the series! Sanctuary ...and... Severance - available now from Noble Romance Publishing.

Noble Author Sarah Ballance Familiar Light

2011-11-08T04:00:00.000-08:00

I'll be blunt: writing a novella scares me to death. Creating characters readers will care about in just 10k words is one thing. Developing a solid plot that can be resolved in such a short space is yet another. Put them together and you've got … well, me in a panic.

The concept of FAMILIAR LIGHT started with the "Timeless Desire" blog tour theme. One angle I use often in writing is former lovers reuniting, so the theme was very much in my comfort zone. In this story, my main characters actually parted on good terms: after a hometown summer romance, Laney leaves for college and promises Bridger she will return the following spring. As it tends to do, life got in the way. Years later—out of college and into the real world—she realizes she misses what they had, so she goes back to him.

Bridger doesn't welcome her with open arms, and as an author, I wanted that bit of rejection there. In a way, it keeps it real. What are the odds he sat there waiting for her all those years? Nil! And in fact, as the blurb says, he "tangled a lot of sheets" in the process of NOT waiting, LOL, so there's definitely some bitterness there. I really enjoyed the dynamics of that particular scene! (You can see what happened when they meet again in the excerpt below).

Then, of course, comes the twist.

The challenge I had with FAMILIAR LIGHT was creating the suspense aspect—not because it was required, but because I love romantic suspense and am apparently a glutton for punishment. (Yeah, seriously. Sometimes I wonder what I'm thinking, LOL.) Putting together a suspense plot that can be resolved for these characters in just 10k words was not the easiest of tasks, but fortunately I have a secret weapon: my husband.

Yep, my guy—who has never read a romance book in his life—happens to be fantastic for plotting, so this was the part I dragged him in. I had a basic idea of what I wanted (not a bit of which I can divulge here, LOL) and he helped me fill in the details. Within a couple of hours, I had a plot. Leaving details aside, I can say this: although they got off to a bad start, my characters didn't have a chance to dance around their emotions. The intensity of what they went through and the very real chance they had of losing one another permanently brought clarity to what they wanted . . . and fast.

As for the title, at one point during the process of writing I had an old song from the 80s in my head. Singing under my breath as I wrote, I got the words wrong and came up with "familiar light" where it should have been "different light." And I thought, wow. Epic book title moment! Between the lighthouse—which is centric to the story—and the theme, I had a winner: FAMILIAR LIGHT.

Thank you so much for reading along. I hope you enjoy the excerpt!

Author Links WEB http://www.sarahballance.com/ BLOG http://sarahballance.wordpress.com/ AMAZON http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B003WKYEJI GOODREADS http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4103362.Sarah_Ballance

Blurb

Seven years of longing comes down to just one night.

Laney Kent returns to Barrier Shoals hoping to reunite with her first love, Bridger. She anticipates his reception might be chilly, but what she doesn't expect is to become the victim of a deadly obsession … or that this night with Bridger could be her last.

Bridger Jansen tangled a lot of sheets trying to forget about Laney, but his heart knew what the rest of him refused to admit: he could love no one else. He's determined not to forgive her for leaving him without explanation, but when he fails to protect her from a viscous attack, the person he can't forgive just might be himself. BUY LINK: https://www.nobleromance.com/Authors/97/Sarah-Ballance

FAMILIAR LIGHT Excerpt

"Can I help you?" The gruff question trickled through the cavernous space like water leaking through pipes. He seemed to materialize from the shadows as he strode toward her, the rise of heat from the concrete floor keeping him just out of focus.

But her heart knew.

She swallowed a hard knob of regret. "Bridger?"

He couldn't have heard her—not with the way she clung to his name, as if saying it out loud would be to lose another piece of him. But his step faltered, and the recognition in that interrupted cadence brought the burn of tears to her eyes.

No regrets.

She stood, trembling, as the fifty feet between them dwindled to ten. When he was close enough for her to make out the stubble lining his jaw, his legs stopped moving, but his gaze tore over her. The impassioned glare was without direction, a harsh reflection of the hard lines edging his face. The warm brown eyes she remembered were now a bitter shade of espresso.

"What are you doing here?" he asked.

The words, tense with fury, sent her backpedaling against the concrete wall. Too late, she realized she no longer knew this man. They were kids when they'd parted ways, too naïve to realize they'd never keep those breathless promises. At least she'd been that way. His tone suggested otherwise.

They were alone in the deeply shadowed belly of Barrier Shoals Light. And for the first time within those walls, Laney tasted fear.

"Was I supposed to wait for you?" he asked.

Seven years had passed since her weak-kneed promise to return to him. She didn't have an answer for that.
He took another step, boxing her against the curvature of the rock. He stood close—so close, she had to tip her head to meet his eyes.

And she summoned courage to do it.

"Was I?" he asked, his voice softer now. He leaned closer. The stifling heat morphed into sexual innuendo, his skin slick with sweat, daring her to touch.

She was one careless thought away from taking him up on that unspoken suggestion. Her fingers itched to claw through his hair, to draw him closer until the distance between them evaporated. Memories of frantically grasping for purchase against the stone wall besieged her, curling fear into boundless adrenaline.

"Did you?"

Her words coaxed a slow grin from his sensual mouth. "Was I supposed to?"

The Wisdom of Delphi...

2011-10-28T04:00:00.000-07:00

Time really flies. I can't believe it, but I'm back at Judith'sspot! The last time I was here, Italked about taking a new direction in my writing. Well, it wasn't a'new' direction per say, but it was me getting back to my true passion and thatwas writing fiction.

I had written a couple of books prior to thatpost and spent nearly a decade freelancing as an entertainment columnist,but it was my first time publishing fiction.  I was nervousbut excited at the same time. After all, all the writing, I had done upto that, point put the focal point of the article onto someone elseand his or her accomplishments.

Now, even though I'm writing fiction,the focal point is me: my characters, my story, my dream.  I'mback on Judith's blog to give you an update on my book Tempestuous Tales,(http://www.kandiedelley.com/books/ttales/) which iscurrently out as an eBook.  The feedback I've gotten on it sofar, has been delightful and beyond encouraging. To finally get a chanceto put my stories out there and get this type of response from people is reallya dream come true. For those who havealready purchased the book, thank you for making that happen forme.

Anywho, people are 'gripped' by theconsequences of these characters' decisions in Tempestuous Tales and one characterin particular, Delphi Connors, seems to be getting quite thedebate.  In fact, some readers have already asked me about a 'parttwo' because they feel Delphi's story is notfinished, or as some have said, "It can't be finished!” LOL.

Keep reading to find outwhy!

Delphi Connors is featured in the firststory, Vanishing at Mountain Creek (see location here: )

In this story, Delphi returns to Dallas with a singingcareer that's on the rise. In fact, she's sings background for aninternational pop star. YAY!  Delphi is beautiful, smart and very much the thrill-seeker,who had a sexy man on her arm. However, don't take my word for it; check out a little bit of hisdescription below...

The corners of her lips curled in softdelight as she thought about one hot and steamy weekend that she had sharedwith Marcus in Aruba the year before. She thought of his bare chest and washboardabs springing from the cool, deep blue ocean and how his sculpted thighsglistening in the hot sun, invoked a fluttering in her stomach. The memory of his twinkling hazel eyes and...

Oooh dreamy huh? Where's my ticket to Aruba! Haha. But remember, the key word hereis she 'HAD' a sexy man on her arm. Yepper, Marcus did the fooland cheated on Delphi. When you take adive in heartbreak hotel, you have some decisions to make.  Delphi made hers and, instead of sulking about hisno-good behind, she got back on the road to fulfilling her.

What woman doesn't get toa point in her life where success doesn'tovershadow matters of the heart, especially when her family andfriends are settled, married, or getting married and have a baby on theway? She got desperate, started serialdating, and eventually got stuck in a rut. Actually, she got stuck near Mountain Creek Parkway, a woodsy area in North Texas,and let's just say...the unimaginable has happened--shevanished.

I'm writing this blog so that we can get backto basics. I love technology, but we also need to be mindful of staying(organic, real and intimate) with the people in our lives. If you eversaw that movie 'The Net' starring Sandra Bullock then you know whereI'm coming from. Communicate, not just with social media tweets andlikes, but genuine, pick up the phone and call someone moments. REALconnecting. I have friends who question me when I ask, "Heytext me or call when you make it home." Yes, they are adults and I'mnot trying to tell them how to live their life. However, anythingcan happen on that short trip from the nightclub or restaurantand knowing information like, "the last time you spoke to so -anddo" could help save a life!

Oh and for my friend girls out there...pleasepractice personal safety.  You never know. YOU maybe the one stranded on some deserted road at night with a dead cell battery,flat tire, no money, or a car charger. Personal safety is soimportant. Have an emergency and first aid kit in your car, learn tofix a flat and have a back up cell battery.

Delphi's story is just a reminder to remember yourdreams, the sacrifices you're willing to make to get there and toalways practice personal safety. That'sthe wisdom of Delphi's story.

To read an excerpt from this storyvisit: Vanishing at Mountain Creek (http://www.goodreads.com/story/show/277714-tempestuous-tales)

To read other blog posts about the TempestuousTales visit: Spooktacular Web Tour (http://www.kandiedelley.com/kandie/extras/)

Watch the Tempestuous Tales Video booktrailer: http://youtu.be/fQQYs7APquM
About Tempestuous Tales:

An urban legend becomes a nightmare when three women face tragicconsequences: an unexplainable vanishing, a sadistic marriage, and avisit from beyond the grave, after an ancient talisman grants theirwishes. Tempestuous Tales adds a modern twist to three classic shortstories: The Monkey’s Paw by W.W. Jacobs, Night Drive by Will F. Jenkins andBluebeard’s Bride by Sarah Holland, based on the works of Charles Perrault.

Paperback coming November 2011. Download a free Tempestuous Tales mobile phone or desktop wallpaper here! (http://www.kandiedelley.com/books/ttales/)

AMAZON KINDLE: (http://www.amazon.com/Tempestuous-Tales-ebook/dp/B005M785DA)

BARNES & NOBLE NOOK: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/tempestuous-tales-kandie-delley/1105563551

SMASHWORDS: http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/87652

GIVEAWAY:

Comment to win a copy of Tempestuous Tales ebook!

CONTEST:

Leave a comment and be entered into a drawing to win (list contest awardhere) Just leave a comment on this guest blog posts!

Thanks again for allowing me to visit your blog and have a blessed holidayseason!

LUST AFTER DEATH By Daisy Harris

2011-10-17T04:00:00.000-07:00

Publisher: Ellora’s Cave / ISBN:9781419935053 / Genre: Erotic Paranormal / Length: Novella

In the Pacific Northwest, where life hurries to keep pace withtechnology, a re-animated bride named Josie struggles to escape her creator.

Assassin Bane Connor wants to get the girl to the ZombieUnderground and receive his payoff—a mental reset that will erase his memoriesas well as his guilt. But an attack by a rival faction derails his rescue, andthe wide-eyed female ignites desire like he’s never known.

The newborn stein needs touch to live, and wanting her is acomplication Bane doesn’t need. The last thing a killer wants is a his loverwho can read his thoughts, but if Josie can love him the way he’s programmed,perhaps Bane can find a way to heal his past.

Excerpt:

Josie cocked her head to the sideand her brows drew together. His words jiggled something in her memories, butonly those hidden behind the clouds. None of the images she’d learned toassociate with Adam shed any insight. She stared at his sky-blue eyes croucheddeep in their sockets, and his short blond hair and chiseled face, searchingfor meaning. She flicked through all her interactions with him, looking forpatterns, and found one. “You say that word a lot. What does it mean?”

Bane shifted a fraction. Hisshoulders rolled forward. “I say what a lot?”

For some reason, Josie felt a blushcreep up on her cheeks. “Fuck,” she whispered. The word felt too aggressive andmasculine to say aloud.

Bane raked a hand through his hair,causing the muscles in his shoulder and arm to ripple. He scowled.“Motherfucker!”

Confusion overtook embarrassment,and Josie pounced. “See. There it is again! You use it in so many ways I can’ttell what you mean.” She paused. When he didn’t answer, instead eyed her like abeing he couldn’t understand, she added, “And what’s a mother?”

Bane’s laugh started as a deeprumble. Then his guffaws grew loud enough to scare her. He swiped the back ofhis hand at one weeping eye, then the other. A slow burn of embarrassment creptup her spine. “I don’t see what’s so funny.”

Bane dabbed at his face with anapkin. “Oh babe. That dick who built you really did a half-assed job. And hedidn’t try to…?”

She didn’t understand all the words,but could tell his meaning—all except the last part. Tears stung her eyes.Josie stood from the table. “Thank you for the food. I need to use the restroomnow.” It was true, but not entirely the reason she wanted to get away.

Bane sobered. “Um, yeah. It’s up thehill.” He pointed out the window to a trail leading up from the dock. At thetop of the hill, a brown shack peeked out between the trees. “Do you needhelp?”

She could tell it humiliated him toask, and was glad.

“No. My maker made sure I knew thatmuch.” Josie snatched up the blanket she'd used to sleep and wrapped it aroundherself. She marched out into the cool fall air and positioned her leg to climbonto the dock.

In the still morning, she heard Banemutter to himself. “Fuck, I’m anidiot.”

Josie knew enough to know sheagreed.

DAISY HARRIS

Birkenstock-wearing glamour girl and mother of twoby immaculate conception, Daisy Harris still isn’t sure if she writes erotica.Her paranormal romances start out innocently enough. However, her charactersbehave like complete sluts. Much to Miss Harris’s dismay, the sex tends to getcompletely out of hand.

Ifyou like science-y subplots, fantastical creatures, and red-hot chemistry,you’ll love Daisy Harris. You can find her on Twitter,Facebook and at www.thedaisyharris.com.

The Iron Admiral - Greta van der Rol

2011-10-12T04:00:00.000-07:00

'The Iron Admiral' was the first book Iever wrote. I started it about five years ago and over the years, it hascertainly changed. The book has evolved, as it were, from a crude first attemptto a polished piece. At least, I think so. It has been a journey of discovery,for me and for my craft.

I was going to write science fiction,because that's what I like to read. Not the heavy, hard science fiction,though. I liked the action-packed space opera you find in Star Wars, but Iwanted a bit more science fact. So the Iron Admiral came into being and withit, first thoughts. I was always going to have an admiral at the centre and afemale computer whiz as the other MC. From there my history degree took over asI looked for a plausible setting for my story. My universe would have a vastalien Empire which was starting to crumble at the edges, while the expandinghuman Confederacy would populate only one spiral arm. We would have known abouteach other for a long time but tried to avoid getting in each other’s way untilboth sides couldn’t help it. You could say it was a little like a crumblingRoman Empire encountering the expanding Huns – or maybe the other way around.The theme of the book was always going to be that truth is very much a matterof perspective, a lesson I’ve learnt from studying history.

I've loved the Star Wars universe foryears – but always with belief suspended. My aliens would not be humanoid and Iwould try to ensure my scenarios were supported by science. No flying throughspace into a massive hangar on a battlecruiser without going through anairlock, for instance.

One thing I wanted to do with my admiralprotagonist was to show that these very senior men are sometimes faced withvery difficult decisions. It's easy enough for Lieutenant Smith to indulge indevil-may-care heroics – but admirals can't do that. There's too much at stake.

I have to admit it was something of asurprise to me when I ended up writing a romance. I can honestly say I've neverread an entire Mills & Boon book, although I did enjoy the 'Angelique'historical series back in the day. Both Elizabeth Moon and Anne McCaffrey (twoof my favourites) included some very mild sex scenes in their books – it workedfor me, but I wanted to take it one step further – without going as far aserotica.

The Iron Admiral books are fast-pacedadventures with a romance arc. Here's the blurb for book one, 'The IronAdmiral: Conspiracy'.

Politics. Hatred. Star systems on thebrink of war. A species under threat of extinction from a deadly virus.

Ex-Admiral Chaka Saahren goesundercover to discover the truth. Systems Engineer, Allysha Marten, takes onelast job to rid her of debts and her cheating husband. On Tisyphor, deadlysecrets about the past explode, as Allysha and the undercover agent scramble toprevent the coming holocaust and xenocide.

When the ex-Admiral’s identity isrevealed, she must come to terms with her feelings for a man she thinks causedthe death of innocent civilians, including her father.

In a race against time, Allysha mustset aside her conflicted emotions and trust a man she barely knows. Saahrenmust convince the woman he loves to find the truth as he once more assumes hisposition as … The Iron Admiral.

It isn't the end of the adventure,though. By the end of the book Allysha might be reconciled with Saahren to alimited extent, but she sure isn't ready to marry him. What's more, Allysha'sestranged husband has been tasked by the shadowy Galactic People's Republic todeliver Allysha by whatever means he wishes. If he doesn't – he dies. And sobegins 'The Iron Admiral: Deception', as fast paced and action packed as thefirst book.

GrandAdmiral Chaka Saahren has the rewards of rank…
…but he doesn't have Systems Engineer Allysha Marten. Determined to keep hersafe, Saahren will go to any lengths to win back the woman he loves. Allyshaagrees to temporary employment by the Fleet, hoping to avoid at all costs theman she believes responsible for the death of innocent civilians, including herestranged father.

Sean O'Reilly has a plan…
…and it involves hijacking Allysha and convincing her, one way or another, todo just one more job—a job that would clear his debts and save his hide.

Allysha Marten must come to terms with her feelings…
…in the face of a reality that suggests she is a pawn in a growing powerstruggle, one where she will need all her skills and cunning to outwit aheinous plot that could result in the loss of billions of human lives.

When Allysha decides to tackle the conspirators on her own, she forces an impossiblechoice on… The Iron Admiral.

I had lots of fun writing them and I'mhoping that others will enjoy reading them. Although Saahren's and Allysha'sstories are complete, I've set one more book in the same universe. That will bepublished next year. And yes, there may be others.

BIO

Gretavan der Rol loves writing science fiction with a large dollop of good old,healthy romance. She lives not far from the coast in Queensland, Australia andenjoys photography and cooking when she isn't bent over the computer. She has adegree in history and a background in building information systems, both ofwhich go a long way toward helping her in her writing endeavours.

   - http://gretavanderrol.com/
   - http://twitter.com/GretavdR
   - http://www.facebook.com/Author.Greta.vanderRol?ref=ts

Buy the book from Smashwords printhttp://www.smashwords.com/books/view/45072

Amazonhttp://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_noss?url=search-alias%3Dstripbooks&field-keywords=the+iron+admiral+%3A+conspiracy&x=0&y=0

Omnilit http://bit.ly/fkt0us

You'll find “The Iron Admiral: Deception”on

Smashwordshttp://www.smashwords.com/books/view/93056

Amazonhttp://www.amazon.com/The-Iron-Admiral-Deception-ebook/dp/B005QPAO3M/ref=sr_1_3?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1317441791&sr=1-3

Omnilit

Lillian Grant's Male Order – Reigning Men book One

2011-09-12T05:00:00.000-07:00

Male Order– Reigning Men book One

Sleepingwith her flatmate, Sam had been a mistake—becoming a strip club manager's pimpwas a disaster

Blurb: Meg’s mother can't even saythe word sex. Her great aunt is a nymphomaniac. The few men she’s slept withleft her frustrated. The closest she’s come to sex was as the unwittingvisual aid for hot flatmate, Sam’s, cowboy style, wanking session. No wonderher libido went on permanent vacation and she substitutes ice-cream andchocolate for sex.

With so many hang ups, why does she agree to no strings sex with Sam? Why ishunky, strip club manager Michael bent on seducing her? And why the hell doesshe invest in a male escort business offering extra services?

Sam’s delighted when he convinces Meg to let him go looking for her missing Gspot. A ride on his wild stallion shows her how good sex can be...with theright man. One encounter leads to a dozen. Sam is living every man’s dream, sexwith no commitment, too bad it’s not his dream.

His new life turns nightmare when Michael enters the scene. Will the Irishmansteal her away, or will his involvement in her Male Order business leadto a disaster that gives Sam a chance to prove to Meg their relationship ismore than a sexual rodeo?

www.lilliangrant.com

http://www.liquidsilverbooks.com/books/maleorder.htm

Excerpt

A dull thud, thud, thud accompanied byyells of, “Yeehaw, ride ‘em cowboy,” made Meg roll her eyes and sigh loudly.

“For fuck sake, can you keep it downin there, literally?”

Laura glanced at her, then back at thebedroom door. “What’s he doing?”

Meg shook her head. “You don’t want toknow.” She shuddered with mock horror at the memory.

“Really? Oh, please tell me, or I’llhave to go find out for myself.”

Laura got to her feet, a wicked gleamin her dark brown eyes. Geez, she would, too. Not that the sight of Sam laidback in a reclining chair, wearing only a cowboy hat and white socks, with hishand wrapped around his dick, jacking off like it was an Olympic sport, wouldfreak her friend out. Hell no, she’d probably offer to ride him. She wasn’tabout to let that happen. Sam was too good for the likes of Laura. He deserveda girl a little fussier about where she slept.

Meg jumped up and grabbed Laura’s arm,spilling coffee down the front of her own white shirt in the process. Shit, whycouldn’t she do anything without making a mess of herself?

“If I tell you, will you sit back down and promise never to mention it to Sam?”

Laura retook her seat, her eyestwinkling with amusement. “Oh, this is going to be really good.”

Meg glanced at the bedroom door.Despite her yelling at him to shut up, yips of pleasure still reached thelounge room.

“Go, baby, ride em. You got it.”

She looked back at Laura then staredat a slice of salami on the coffee table. It must be from the pizza Sam hadafter she went to bed last night. What a slob. An extremely well endowedslob, but a slob nonetheless.

“Well? Are you going to tell me ornot?”

Meg sighed. “He’s jacking off.”

Laura snorted coffee all over theplace. Choking, she banged her chest, tears streaming down her face. If Lauradied from asphyxiation, she sure as hell wasn’t telling the paramedics Sam’swanking caused her death.

Between gasping breaths Laura squeaked,“And you found this out how?”

Meg shrugged nonchalantly. No big dealreally. He liked to jack off, a lot, and she wanted to see what had himyelling. How was she supposed to know what he was doingin there? She could feel the heat rising to her face at the memory.

She had shoved the door open and therehe lay in all his glory, reclining chair toward her. The moment they made eyecontact, a huge grin spread across his face as he continued to pummel his dick.

The thought of that monster in hishand still made her panties dampen and her insides throb. The head red andengorged, the shaft decorated with bulging veins, heavy balls bunched up tight between his widespread thighs. She’d been unable tomove until he groaned and shot his wad all over his stomach. The memory of hiswarm spunk spilling from his cock made her squirm in her seat.

The spell had finally been broken whenhe winked at her, asking if she wanted to take a turn on his trusty steed. Shehad turned tail and run out of the house. Hiding in the mall for hours dressedin her food stained hot pink sweats and matching fluffy slippers.

“I went to check on him one afternoonwhen he got to yelling and I found him sitting in his chair jacking off.Anyway, I thought you were here to talk about work?”

Laura leaned forward, her faceflushed. “So you’re not even going to tell me if he’s hung like a horse?”

Having Laura over was a mistake, she madeno secret of the fact she liked Sam. Always going on about his buff body andrippling abs. No way was she going to add anything elseto her best friend’s fantasy life, she already had an overactiveimagination.

Despite all but chasing after him withdrool running down her chin, Sam had shown no interest in her. She wonderedwhy. With her heart-shaped face, willowy figure and immaculately styled longblonde hair, most men found her irresistible. Now she thought about it, Samhadn’t just ignored her not so subtle advances but, as far as Meg remembered,the only dates he had since he moved in were with his right hand. Even if thewomen he met hadn’t seen him in all his naked glory, his cute smile and paleblue eyes would win him many loyal fans. They had sure as hell worked on herwhen he turned up in response to the landlord’s advertisement for someone toflat share with her. She glanced at Laura, who was wrapping a fat blonde curlaround her finger and staring at her waiting for an answer.

Meg shrugged. “More like My LittlePony.” She was shocked at how easily and convincingly the lie slipped outwithout guilt or hesitation. “Now, can we please get back to our discussion?”

With a shrug, Laura put her coffee cupon the side table and pulled a pad and pen out of her bag. “Okay, we need aslogan for Wonder Bites.”

“I thought we did that already?”

“I ran them by Bill. His exact wordswere ‘you girls better get your shit together or you’ll be wearing sandwichboards advertising condoms in a brothel’.”

“Such a lovely turn of phrase, nowonder he’s in marketing. So did he hate both of them? I thought yours trulysucked. ‘Wonder Bites, good all the way from your mouth to the pan’.” Shegiggled at Laura as she pouted in response to her teasing.

“I was focusing on the health aspectsof the cereal. Anyway you can’t talk. You would hardly win the Clio Award foradvertising slogans with ‘Wonder Bites smell funky but taste real good’.”

“They do smell funky. I was just beinghonest. I’m getting sick of all the bullshit.” Meg stretched out the length ofthe couch and stared at the ceiling. She’d become fed up with peddling crap inNew South Wales’ least successful ad agency. How many more lies could she couchin catchy slogans to sell garbage no one wanted? If only she had a product shebelieved in, or a job she enjoyed. “Laura, have you ever thought about doingsomething else for a living?”

“Every day, hun, I’ve even researchedwhat else I could do with my skills.”

A kernel of an idea had been growingin Meg’s brain for weeks. Maybe Laura wouldn’t laugh if she told her. “I wasthinking of going out on my own. You know, setting up my own business.”

“Doing what?”

Meg sighed. “That’s the big problem.”

Laura leaned forward into Meg’speripheral vision. “Funny you should mention starting your own business. I’vebeen thinking the same thing and I might just have an idea we could both use.”

The door to Sam’s room banged open.Meg glanced over at Laura. She’d lost her attention. Turning her head a littlefurther, she could see why. There he stood. Skin glistening with sweat, his onlyattire a less than adequate white towel slung low on his hips and a cowboy haton his head. Every step he took revealed the full length of his thigh, butthankfully not the full length of anything else.

He grinned at them, flashing a perfectset of pearly whites. “Ladies, what are you two plotting now?”

Meg crossed her arms over her chest.“How to kill noisy flat mates.”

She didn’t need to look to know he hadmoved closer. The scent of fresh sweat and musky cologne tickling her noseannounced his arrival. His voice growled in her ear. “I think you enjoy hearingme almost as much as you enjoyed watching me. Maybe if you got out more youwouldn’t find my private life so stimulating. Unless you do really want me, butyou’re too sexually repressed to let go.”

His face hovered above hers. Screwhim. Why did he have to look so damn good when he had that smug expression onhis mug? His blue eyes twinkled with amusement, his full lips quivered withbarely contained laughter.

“For someone so ready to hand outdating advice, I can’t say I’ve noticed you being so lucky with the ladies oflate.”

“Maybe I’m waiting for the rightjockey.”

Meg grinned at him. “Or maybe youcan’t find a jockey small enough to enjoy the ride.”

Her jibe missed the mark. He laughedbefore bending forward and brushing his lips against hers. His breath tickledher neck, making her shiver, as he whispered, “Perhaps you should slide in thesaddle one night and take me through my paces. Then you would find out just howbig my stallion really is.”

Hands on his shoulders, she shoved himaway. It wasn’t the first time he had kissed her, but this time it had feltmore intimate. Not the usual friendly peck and definitely part of his teasing.“Fuck off, Sam. We’re trying to work here.”

SD Grady New Release The Silver Scream

2011-08-10T15:11:00.000-07:00

One of my friends just had a release. I love her cover!!

Publisher: Purple Sword Publications
Author: S.D. Grady

Film school student, Gilda Albright, has taken a job in the newly refurbished Orpheum Theatre as a movie projectionist. The gem from another era prompts her imagination to take flight, and she invites her boyfriend Seth to a private screening. Looking like a movie star from the 50’s, she strips in the spotlight, ensnaring Seth’s lust and drawing the eager eyes of another to her buxom figure. The building takes on a life of its own—fear invades Gilda’s workdays. Will the unseen gremlin let her go or fulfill its erotic obsession with a vision from the past?

Excerpt

Wrapped in Seth’s arms, warm in the afterglow of passion, Gilda listened to the remaining tracks on her CD. She closed her eyes and hummed along. His nose nuzzled her throat; his hands roamed her wide hips.

A buzzing joined the music.

Must be a bad mp3 file, she mused.

It became louder.

She wiggled, pushing Seth off her. “Do you hear that?”

“What?”

She shoved his arms down. “That? The hum? It’s louder, isn’t it?”

He tried to pull her back down. “That’s just me, Gil. Come here, I want another go. Will you dance again?”

“No. Stop it, Seth. The lights are brighter, too.”

Sighing, he sat up. With one eye closed, he looked up at the spotlight. “Those are always bright.”

On her knees, Gilda looked around the auditorium. She pointed at the screen. “That’s creepy.”

He turned to look. He tried to block the flicker from the rotating light and stared.

“Do you see it?” Gilda swallowed against a dry throat. “It’s…”

“It looks a bit like you.”

They both watched the shadowy figure insinuate itself across the silver screen. The ghost moved with the grace of a dancer, but displayed an atypical buxom figure.

Gilda stood up and turned to look up at the porthole. “The projector’s not on. How is it there?”

Seth began to pull on his pants and offered her the gown. “I don’t know, but that means somebody else is in here, and I think we’d better get going.”

“Yeah.” She continued to look from the mysterious figure to the projection booth. “I guess you’re right.” She slipped the dress over her head, settling the straps on her shoulders and smoothing the fabric over her breasts.

The humming returned.

She spun around, trying to focus on the source of the sound.

“Watch out!” Seth’s voice stunned her.

Shannon Leigh - Dark Tales 1: Vampyress

2011-07-27T01:00:00.000-07:00

Originally, I, along with several other authors, had worked on a project for a now defunct publisher. It was based on the old Canterbury Tales by Geoffrey Chaucer. Each author was given a character from the original storyline. I was given the Knight. We had to come up with our own version of our character, and believe me, they were a far cry from Chaucer's originals. While a knight is typically heroic, I wanted to write a different type of hero, one born from darkness and evil. I was really into vampires at the time so I came up with a story about a woman whose last name was Knight, but who became the first vampire. When I moved that story to a new publisher, I revisited the idea, changed, and recreated the main character into one a lot darker, sexier, and mysterious.

In the second version, I focused more on the history of Vlad Dracula and the supposed cruelty of his reigns (he had more than one) and gave the reader a chilling account of how Ivona's character developed as the actions of Vlad impacted her life. While the original had no romance involved, the romantic in me couldn't help but add a devilishly handsome character who hints at the possibility of a link with Ivona's history. I hope to continue this idea with a second story, one that focuses more on the man but develops the idea that he and Ivona do indeed have a link to each other, one neither anticipated. Since the first story focuses on one historical figure who (if the recounts are indeed true) did some things to people that couldn't be anything less than evil, I considered tying the second story in with another infamous person of history, one who committed some equally chilling crimes: Elizabeth Bathory. It was rumored that she had an illegitamate son, you know. Muahahahha....

On a more serious and personal note, while researching Vlad Dracul's history, there were several times when I found myself deeply disturbed and even horrified. There were things he did to people that are so grim and cruel that it makes you wonder if he were even human at all. I found myself in tears many times as I imagined what his victims went through. It certainly made me hope that some of the things I read were perhaps exagerated or even false. I know there's been others in history (Hitler for example) who seemed to have no heart or mercy when it came to killing off what he considered lesser humans. But to try and fathom the depth of wickedness that had to fill Vlad's soul is almost beyond my comprehension. I wonder if that's why I've put off writing the second story. Perhaps I'm not ready to delve into another gruesome history lesson.

DARK TALES 1: VAMPYRESS
Author: Shannon Leigh
ISBN-13: 9781935013105
Genre: Horror
Length: Short Story
Publisher: Wild Child Publishing
Purchase URL: Wild Child Publishing

BLURB:

Cursed to harbor the beast that drove the Prince of Walachia to perform unspeakable acts of cruelty upon her loved ones, Ivona Knight has spent the last five hundred years eliminating all descendants of the Dracula line. Trapped within a remote tavern by a hammering storm, she engages in a storytelling game with her fellow patrons. But as she conveys her tale, she senses a familiar presence emanating from one of the others that stirs emotions deep within her which only one other has ever evoked. Has she found her next target? Or has she become the hunted?

***

EXCERPT:

“What do you propose we do for the next several hours?” The deep voice had a strong southern drawl, the rich baritone filling the cold room with the warmth of vibrant sunshine on a lazy summer day.

Ivona vaguely remembered the sun. Centuries had passed since she’d felt its welcoming rays. It boggled her mind how the sound of this man’s voice brought forth such an ancient and precious memory.

Though he posed the question to the bartender, Ivona had the distinct feeling it held a silent proposition for her. She glanced toward the bar. Sure enough, her inquisitive gaze met a pair of striking blue eyes, overshadowed with thick, but neat, black brows.

The man’s firm, sensual mouth pulled into an appealing grin, his straight white teeth a stark contrast in the weak light. He lifted his shot glass in mock salute before downing the amber colored contents in one gulp. Before either acknowledged the other’s attraction, someone posed another question.

“And what about food?” a mature gentleman called. “I don’t know about the rest of ya, but I’m starving!”
Several others nodded their head.

The bartender stroked his stubbled chin between a thick thumb and forefinger. “Well, I’ve got a sandwich and chips in the back. But it’s not enough to feed all of ya.”

Ivona couldn’t believe how quickly the others dismissed the roaring wind and thunderous blasts outside as the paltry meal became the center of everyone’s attention. Everyone excluding her and the blue jean-clad man propped at the bar. Voices once again rose in excitement as the patrons argued over how to divide the bartender’s offering.

Propping her chin in her palm, she silently watched while the chaos grew, males and females forming sides against each other. It seemed the men favored purchasing a share, but the women disagreed, claiming they should be chivalrous and donate their portion to them. Ivona snickered when one poor soul was threatened with being tossed outside to the tempest after suggesting drawing straws. No matter how much they fussed and argued, no one agreed on how to partition the food.

“I have an idea,” a slight feminine voice butted into the midst of the maelstrom.

Ivona glanced about the room, noticing that no one paid the woman any heed. “I said, I have an idea,” she repeated louder.

Everyone ceased bickering, turning all eyes toward the middle-aged woman seated in the far left-hand corner.

“We’re listening,” the man in the expensive suit sneered.

“I propose we play a game. The winner will get the entire sandwich and the chips. Everyone has an equal opportunity of winning, and since we’re obviously stuck here a while, it will also pass the time.”

Intrigued by the suggestion, the others settled back into their seats. A look of triumph pasted on her otherwise plain features, the woman stood up next to her chair. “Each participant will have a chance to tell a story—real or fictional— without interruption by any of the others. Once everyone is finished, the bartender will judge who gave the best anecdote. The winner takes the spoils.”

Ivona couldn’t believe the ridiculousness of the rules. She had no desire to sit for hours and listen to any of their silly tales. Besides, what qualified the bartender as judge?

She snorted with contempt when, despite her aversion to the idea, everyone else jumped up to make preparations to get started. The room bustled with animation as men hurried to move tables out of the way and women rearranged chairs into a big circle in the middle. Only the blue-jean clad man remained seated.
“Now what?” the young blonde asked, her voice shrill with excitement. “Who goes first?”

Ivona stared at her a moment. Seems she’s forgotten the waiting husband.

“I’d like to hear from the lady in red, if there’s no objection.”

The smooth baritone sung through Ivona’s veins like a bow across a well-tuned cello. A strange shudder worked its way up her legs and centered at the juncture of her thighs, followed by a flash of moisture, a rush of heat. She glanced back at the bar, taking in his attractive physique from the top of his dark head to the rounded toes of his black Harley boots.

He’s straightforward. She liked that. No beating around the bush.

Tall, muscular, well proportioned, the man looked like an athlete. A black T-shirt clung to his broad shoulders, the taut garment stretching to the point of full. His worn jeans hung low on his trim waist and long legs, molding along his muscled thighs and outlining the form at his groin with delicious clarity.

Ivona’s gaze lingered there a while. Bold in her appraisal of his endowment, she had little concern for her bawdy behavior. Nice.

She moved her inspection upward, finding his rugged features equally appealing—face beardless and sharp, profile strong and rigid. He comes from good stock.

His overall form portrayed a lot of history within his genes, and perhaps, quite a bit within his jeans as well. She doubted he suffered from a lack of bed partners. I should like to explore that avenue later.

Amused by her careful scrutiny, he winked. Shifting to lean against the bar, he used one elbow to support his pleasing form. The movement drew her gaze to his muscled chest and flat abs. A leather coat would complete this bad boy appearance. She wondered if a motorcycle waited out back.

***

Shannon Leigh
Amber Quill Assistant Review Coordinator
"Giving readers the O in their erOtica."
Website: http://shannonleigh.org
Newsletter: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Shannon_Leigh_Newsletter/
*Nana's Little Black Book--calling all incubi*
*Chasing Booty--the payoff is too good to pass up.*
*Dark Tales--not your average bedtime story.*